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TE¥-Mn^UTE TALKS 
 
 A.LL SORTS OF TOPICS. 
 
 By ELIPIU BURRITT. 
 
 it 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 /s^i^Xi)' 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1874. 
 
76/2.I1 
 .^^f* 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 
 
 By lee and SHEPARD, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 STEKEOTYPED AT THE 
 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOirNDRY, 
 
 19 Spring Lane. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 A FEW words of preface or explanation may be proper 
 and expected in regard to the character and object of 
 this volume. Almost a generation has passed since the 
 last book of the author was issued in this country. None 
 of the dozen volumes which he wrote in England in this 
 interval have been republished here, or have had any 
 considerable circulation in the United States. About 
 twenty-five years ago a small volume, containing some 
 of his earliest writings, and called " Sparks from the 
 Anvil," was received with much favor by the public, and 
 had a pretty wide reading. The book herewith given 
 to the public contains a selection of short papers on a 
 larger variety of topics, and written mostly in England 
 for a little monthly edited by the author, together with 
 several articles contributed to the press in this country 
 since his return from Europe. He has thought that 
 some of- the readers of his earliest productions might 
 be interested in seeing his later views and sentiments on 
 similar and other questions. As his first book, pub- 
 lished in this country twenty-five years ago, must have 
 
 3 
 
4 Preface. 
 
 been long out of print or out of circulation, he has 
 been all the more encouraged to put forth this volume, 
 which will make its readers acquainted with the spirit, 
 object, and variety of his later productions. Only two 
 or three of them on the same topic are here given, but 
 if the reception of this series should warrant it, a second 
 will probably be issued. 
 
 As the author has been connected with movements 
 that have brought him before the public at home and 
 abroad in past years, and as many incorrect statements 
 in regard to his life and labors have been published in 
 periodicals and in biographical works, he has felt it a 
 duty he owed to the public to present the leading facts 
 in his personal history, as if written by a third person 
 who was well acquainted with them. If they shall be 
 of any use to young men starting in the world under 
 similar circumstances, it will repay him well for the 
 reluctance he overcame in presenting such personal mat- 
 ters to the public. 
 
 If this volume, therefore, shall be favorably received 
 for the sentiments, opinions, and facts it puts forth on a 
 considerable variety of topics, the author will be specially 
 gratified to be thus readmitted into the goodly fellowship 
 of American writers. 
 
 E. B, 
 
 New Britain, Conn., Oct. 21, 1873. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR 9 
 
 INCIDENTS AND OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 Breathing a living Soul into dead Words 71 
 
 The great Cheshire Political Cheese 81 
 
 A rural Evangelical Alliance .• . 94 
 
 A Quaker Meeting in London 102 
 
 The English Day 107 
 
 It's like parting with my own Life 115 
 
 A Model Farmer's Harvest-Home 117 
 
 The Connecticut River 124 
 
 The St. Lawrence and Quebec 132 
 
 Birthplace of Rip Van Winkle 140 
 
 The Commencement Carnival at Oxford. . 148 
 
 GLIMPSES BY THE WAYSIDE OF HIS- 
 TORY. 
 
 Rise and Progress of *' We," or of the National Sentiment. 159 
 
 The ** We" of the Earliest Nation 166 
 
 The ^^ We" of the Hebrew Nation • 176 
 
 The National*' We" of Greece 192 
 
 The Roman Imperial ''We." 206 
 
 Life and Dignity of the English Language 215 
 
 5 
 
Contents, 
 
 SOCIAL AND ARTISTIC SCIENCE. 
 
 The Songs and Songsters of Labor. 227 
 
 Alexandra and Hibernia 233 
 
 The Ante-printing Poets of England 235 
 
 Handel's Messiah in the Crystal Palace. . 235 
 
 The Law of Kindness, or the old Woman's Kailway Signal. 242 
 
 Life of Benevolence in England 2k^ 
 
 The Empire of Public Opinion ; its Intellectual and Me- 
 chanical Powers 250 
 
 INDUSTRIAL AND FINANCIAL QUES- 
 TIONS. 
 
 The World's Working-men's Strike against War 259 
 
 The most Highly -taxed Luxury in the World 2^^ 
 
 POLITICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 Attenuation of Suffrage in the United States 279 
 
 The Greatest and Last of Personal Editors 289 
 
 Woman Suffrage and its Liabilities 298 
 
 NATIONAL AND INTERNATIONAL QUES- 
 TIONS. 
 
 Russia from a Cosmopolitan Stand-point 307 
 
 The Commercial Relations and Capacities of Russia. . . . 31^ 
 
 Russia as a Political Neighbor and Power. . 318 
 
 Turkey's Value to the World 326 
 
 The Cost of small Nationalities 334 
 
 Ireland as an Independent Nation 340 
 
 Birthplace of the Reformation 348 
 
 The Three Grand Armies of Civilization 355 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
TE]^-MnsrUTE TALKS. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Elihu Burritt, the third of that name, was born in 
 New Britain, Connecticut, December 8, 1810, and was 
 the youngest son in a family of ten children, numbering 
 five sons and ^yq daughters. The first of the name, or 
 the remotest traceable ancestor of the American branch 
 of the family, was William Burritt, Avho came from Gla- 
 morganshire, and settled down in Stratford, Connecticut, 
 and died there in 1651. At the beofinninof of the Amer- 
 ican Revolution his descendants took different sides. One 
 branch left New England and went to Canada, with other 
 loyalists, and fought for the British crown ; the other 
 families threw themselves with equal devotion into the 
 American struggle for independence. Elihu Burritt, the 
 grandfather, at forty-five, and Elihu, the father of the 
 subject of this notice, at sixteen years of age, shouldered 
 muskets in that long war. For thirty years and more 
 after the close of the Revolutionary War, the little, hard- 
 soiled townships of New England were peopled by small 
 farmers, owning from ten to one hundred and fifty acres. 
 
 9 
 
lo Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 The few mechanics among them — the carpenters, black- 
 smiths, and shoemakers — were also farmers during the 
 summer months. Indeed, in those months every man 
 and boy was wielding plough, hoe, sickle, or scythe, in- 
 cluding the minister, who generally owned and tilled the 
 best farm in the parish. The father of Elihu Burritt was 
 one of these farmer mechanics, plying the shoemaker's 
 hammer and awl during winter weeks and rainy days, 
 and the hoe and sickle in summer. His son adopted 
 and followed a wider diversity of occupation, and could 
 say at fifty that no man in America had handled more 
 tools in manual labor than himself. Soon after the 
 death of his father, in 1828, he apprenticed himself to 
 a blacksmith in New Britain, and followed that occupa- 
 tion for several years. Having lost a winter's school- 
 ing at sixteen, in consequence of the long illness of his 
 father, he resolved to make up the loss at twenty-one, by 
 attending for a quarter the boarding-school his elder 
 brother, Elijah Hinsdale Burritt, had established in his 
 native village. As every day he was absent from the 
 anvil cost him a dollar in the loss of wages, his earnest 
 desire for more learning was quickened by the expense 
 of each day's acquisition. He gave himself almost en- 
 tirely to mathematics, for which he had a natural taste, 
 aspiring only to the ability of being an accurate surveyor. 
 Before leaving the anvil for this quarter's study, he was 
 in the habit of practising on problems of mental arith- 
 metic, which he extemporized and solved while blowing 
 the bellows. They were rather quaint in their terms, 
 but quite effective as an exercise. One was, How many 
 barley-corns, at three to the inch, will it take to go 
 
Autohiografhy of ike Author. ii 
 
 around the earth at the equator? All these figures he 
 had to carry iu his head while heating and hammering 
 an iron. From this he 'was wont to go on to higher and 
 quainter problems ; as, for example, How many yards 
 of cloth, three feet in width, cut into strips an inch wide, 
 and allowing half an inch at each end for the lap, would 
 it require to reach from the centre of the sun to the cen- 
 tre of the earth, and how much would it all cost at a 
 shilling a yard? He would not allow himself to make 
 a single figure with chalk or charcoal in working out this 
 problem, and he would carry home to his brother all the 
 multiplications in his head, and give them off to him and 
 his assistant, who took them down on their slates, and 
 verified and proved eajh separate calculation, and found 
 the final result to be correct. It was these mental ex- 
 ercises, and the encouragement he received from his 
 brother, a mathematician and astronomer of much emi- 
 nence, that induced him to give up three months, at 
 twenty-one, to a quarter's study. During this term he 
 devoted himself almost entirely to mathematics, giving a 
 few half hours and corner moments to Latin and French. 
 At the end of the term he returned to the anvil, and en- 
 deavored to perform double labor for six months, in 
 order to make up the time lost, pecuniarily, in study. 
 In this period, however, he found he could pursue the 
 study of languages more conveniently than that of mathe- 
 matics, as he could carry a small Greek Grammar in his 
 hat, and con over ivnio), TvnTsig, tvutsl, &c., while at 
 work. In the mean time he gave his evening, noon, 
 and morning hours to Latin and French, and began to 
 conceive a lively interest in the study of languages, 
 
12 Ten'Mlnuie Talks. 
 
 partially stimulated by the family relations and resem- 
 blances between tliem. 
 
 Without any very definite hope or expectation as to 
 the practical advantage of such studies, he resolved to 
 risk another three months in pursuing them. So, at the 
 beo-innino^ of the foUowino; winter, he went to New Ila- 
 ven merely to reside and study in the atmosphere of 
 Yale College ; thinking tiiat that alone, without teachers, 
 would impart an ability which he could not acquire at 
 home. Besides, being then naturally timid, and also 
 half ashamed to ask instruction in the rudiments of 
 Greek and Hebrew at twenty-two years of age, he de- 
 termined to work his way without consulting any college 
 professor or tutor. So, the first morning in New Haven 
 he sat down to Homer's Iliad, without note or comment, 
 and with a Greek Lexicon with Latin definitions. He 
 had not, as yet, read a line in the book, and he resolved 
 if he could make out two by hard study through the whole 
 day, he would never ask help of any man thereafter in 
 mastering the Greek language. By the middle of the af- 
 ternoon he won a victory which made him feel strong and 
 proud, and which greatly affected his subsequent life and 
 pursuits. He mastered the first fifteen lines of the book, 
 and committed the originals to memory, and walked out 
 among the classic trees of the Elm City, and loaked up 
 at the colleges, which once had half awed him, with a 
 kind of defiant feeling. He now divided the hours of 
 each day between Greek and other languages, including 
 Latin, French, Spanish, Italian, German, and Hebrew, 
 giving to Homer about half the time. 
 
 Having given the winter to these studies, he returned 
 
Autohiografhy of the Author. 13 
 
 to New Britain with a quickened relish for such pursuits 
 and a desire to turn them to practical account. In this 
 he succeeded so far as to obtain the preceptorship of ati 
 academy ii^ a neighboring town, in which he taught for 
 a year the languages and other bi^anches he had acquired. 
 This change from a life of manual labor, with close ap- 
 plication to study, seriously affected his health ; so, at the 
 end of the year's teachiug, he accepted the occupation 
 of a commercial traveller for a manufacturer in New 
 Britain, and followed it for a considerable time. He^ 
 now, at the wish of his relatives, concluded to settle 
 down to a permanent residence and business in his native 
 village. In the wide choice and change of occupation 
 for which New England men are inclined and accustomed, 
 he set up a grocery and provision store, unfortunately 
 just before the great commercial crash of 1837, which 
 swept over the whole country, and paralyzed business, 
 and even property of all kinds. He was involved in the 
 general break-down, and experienced a misfortune which, 
 for the time, was grievous to him, but w^ithout which he 
 would have left no history worth writing or reading. 
 Having lost his little all of property by this misfortune, 
 he resolved to start again in life from a new stand-point, 
 or scene of labor. He consequently started on foot and 
 walked all the way to Boston, hoping not only to find 
 employment at his old occupation, but also increased fa- 
 cilities for pursuing those studies which his recent and 
 unfortunate business enterprise had interrupted. Not 
 finding what he sought in Boston, he turned his steps to 
 Worcester, where he realized his wishes to a very satis- 
 factory extent. He not only obtained ready employment 
 
14 Ten-Mimtte Talks. 
 
 at the auvil, but also access to the large and rare library 
 of the Antiquarian Society, containing a great variety 
 of books in different languages. He now divided the 
 hours of the day very systematically between labor and 
 study, recording in a daily journal the occupation of 
 each. "When the work at his trade became slack, or 
 when, by extra labor at piece-work, he could spend more 
 hours at the library, he was able to give more time to 
 his study of the languages. Here he found and trans- 
 lated all the Icelandic Sagas relating to the discovery 
 of North America ; also the epistles written by the Sa- 
 maritans of Nablous to savants of Oxford. Among 
 other books to which he had free access were a Celto- 
 Breton Dictionary and Grammar, to which he applied him- 
 self with great interest. And without knowing where 
 in the Dictionary to look for the words he needed, he ad- 
 dressed himself to the work of v/riting a letter, in that 
 unique language, to the Koyal Antiquarian Society of 
 France, thanking them for the means of becoming ac- 
 quainted with the original tongue of Brittany. In the 
 course of a few months, a large volume, bearing the 
 seal of that societ}^, was delivered to him at the anvil, 
 containing his letter in Celto-Breton, with an introduc- 
 tion by M. Audren de Kerdrel, testifying to its correct- 
 ness of composition. The original letter is deposited in 
 the Museum of Bennes, in Brittany, and is the first and 
 only one written in America in the Celto-Breton lan- 
 guage. It bears the date of August 12, 1838. 
 
 Having made himself more or less acquainted with all 
 the languages of Europe, and several of Asia, including 
 Hebrew, Syriac, Chaldaic, Samaritan, and Ethiopic, he 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 15 
 
 felt desirous of turning these studies to some practical 
 account. He accordingly addressed a letter to William 
 Lincoln, Esq., Worcester, who had been very friendly 
 to him, alluding to his tastes and pursuits, and asking 
 him if there was not some German work which he might 
 translate, for which he might derive some compensation. 
 A few days afterwards, he was dumfounded and almost 
 overwhelmed with confusion on seeing his letter to Mr. 
 Lincoln published in full in a Boston newspaper. Mr. 
 Lincoln had sent it to Governor Everett, who had read 
 it in the course of a speech he had made before a Me- 
 chanics' Institute ; and the author felt as if smitten with 
 a great shame by the sudden notoriety which this unex- 
 pected publicity put upon him. His first idea was, not 
 to go back to his lodgings to take a garment, but to 
 change his name, and abscond to some back town in the 
 country, and hide himself from the kind of fame he ap- 
 prehended. But after a few days he found himself less 
 embarrassed than he anticipated by this premature pub- 
 licity, though he received many kind expressions of 
 fi^iendly interest from different and distant quarters. 
 Governor Everett invited him to dine with him in Bos- 
 ton, and offered him, on the part of several wealthy and 
 generous citizens, all the advantages which Harvard 
 University could afford. These, however, he declined, 
 with grateful appreciation of the offer, preferring, both 
 for his health and' other considerations, to continue his 
 studies in connection with manual labor. 
 
 The following winter, 1841, he was invited to appear 
 before the public as a lecturer, perhaps mostly out of a 
 mere curiosity to see and hear '' the Learned Black- 
 
i6 Ten'Mmiite Talks. 
 
 smith," as lie had come to be called. He accordiDgly 
 wrote up a lecture, trying to prove that Nascitur^ non fit^ 
 was false ; that there was no native genius, but that all 
 attainments were the result of persistent will and appli- 
 cation. He drew this argument from his own experi- 
 ence, as certainly his taste for languages had come from 
 no inborn predilection, tendency, or ability, but had been 
 purely and simply a contracted or acquired appetite. In 
 this lecture he employed, as an illustration of intellectual 
 achievements under pressure of strong motives, the story 
 of the boy climbing the Natural Bridge in Virginia, a 
 description which has been widely read, and which deep- 
 ly impressed the audiences he addressed in New York, 
 Philadelphia, Baltimore, Kichmond, and other cities and 
 towns north and south. In the course of one season he 
 delivered this lecture about sixty times, and he had reason 
 to believe it was useful to many young men starting in 
 life in circumstances similar to his own. At the end of 
 the lecture season he returned to the anvil in Worcester, 
 and prosecuted his studies and manual labors in the old 
 way, managing to write a new lecture in the interval 
 for the following winter. 
 
 Before he appeared in public as a lecturer, he liad tried 
 his hand for a year at editing a little monthly magazine, 
 which he called " The Literary Geminai," half of which 
 was made up of selections in French, and the other half 
 was filled with articles and translations from his own 
 pen. Its circulation was too limited to sustain its ex- 
 pense, so that it was discontinued at the end of the year. 
 But new subjects of interest now supervened to change 
 the whole course of his thoughts, life, and labor. The 
 
Autobiografhy of the Author. 17 
 
 Auti-Slavery movement had now assumed ap aspect and 
 an impulse that began to agitate the public mind and 
 political parties. The subject of this notice began to 
 feel that there was an earnest, honest, living speech 
 to be uttered for human right, justice, and freedom, as 
 well as dead languages to be studied mostly for literary 
 recreation. About the same time, his mind became sud- 
 denly and deeply interested in a new field of philanthropic 
 thought and effort. Indeed, apparently a slight incident 
 shaped the course which led to all his labors in Europe. 
 He had sat down to write a kind of scientific lecture on 
 The Anatomy of the Earth, trying to show the analo- 
 gies between it and the anatomy of the human body ; 
 how near akin in functions to our veins, muscles, blood, 
 and bones, were the rivers, seas, mountains, and arable 
 soils of the globe we inhabit. Before he had written 
 three pages, he became deeply impressed by the arrange- 
 ments of nature for producing such different climates, 
 soils, and articles of sustenance and luxury in countries 
 lying precisely under the same sun, and within the same 
 parallels of latitude around the globe. He was especial- 
 ly struck at the remarkable difference between Great 
 Britain and Labrador, lying within the same belt, and 
 washed by the same sea. It seemed the clearest and 
 strongest proof that this arrangement of nature was de- 
 signed to bind nation to nation, lying even in the same 
 latitudes, by the difference and the necessity of each oth- 
 er's productions ; that it contained a natural bond of peace 
 and good neighborhood between them. He was so much 
 impressed by this evident provision of nature, that he 
 gave up the treatment of the subject which he had 
 2 
 
i8 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 planned, and made a real, radical peace lecture of it. 
 The place and occasion of its first delivery were inter- 
 esting and unique. A Baptist society or church had just 
 bought at auction the celebrated Tremont Theatre in 
 Boston, and they decided to have a course of lectures 
 delivered on '' the boards" before the building v^as al- 
 tered for a place of worship. " The Learned Black- 
 smith " was invited to deliver this course, and he made 
 his first appearance on the stage of a theatre with his 
 new lecture on peace. He had never read a page of the 
 writings of Worcester or Ladd on the subject, nor had 
 he had any conversation or acquaintance with any of the 
 advocates of the cause. But several of these were pres- 
 ent in the large audience, and, at the end of the lecture, 
 came forward and expressed much satisfaction at the 
 views presented, and at the acquisition to their ranks of 
 a new and unexpected co-worker ; who, for the next thirty 
 years, gave himself to the advocacy of the cause so dear 
 to them. 
 
 On returning to Worcester, Mr. Burritt decided to 
 forego and suspend studies which had been to him more 
 the luxuries than the necessaries of a useful life. He 
 accordingly started a weekly paper, called " The Chris- 
 tian Citizen," devoted to the Anti-Slavery cause. Peace, 
 Temperance, Self-cultivation, &c. The circulation was 
 not large, but scattered through all the northern states, 
 and it acquired a pretty large circle of sympathetic read- 
 ers. It was the first newspaper in America that devoted 
 a considerable portion of its space to the advocacy of the 
 cause of peace ; and it awakened an interest in it in the 
 minds of hundreds who had not before given thought to 
 
Autohiografhy of the Author. 19 
 
 the subject. The editor's own mind became more and 
 more deeply engaged in the cause, and, to bring it before 
 the public more widely, he set on foot a little' operation, 
 which he called " The Olive Leaf Mission." He wrote 
 a short article, of about the length of a third of a column 
 of a common neWvSpaper, and printed it on a small slip 
 of paper, surmounted by a dove with an olive leaf in its 
 bill. He sent out at first a dozen copies of this olive leaf 
 to as many papers, on trial, and was delighted to see it 
 inserted in nearly half of them. He was thus encouraged 
 to increase the number from month to month, until he at 
 last sent out a thousand to as many papers all over the 
 Union, two hundred of which gave them insertion. 
 While he was carrying on this operation through the 
 press, the " Oregon Question " came up, and assumed a 
 very serious aspect, threatening an actual rupture be- 
 tween the United States and England. A few earnest 
 men in Manchester, alarmed at the tendency and animus 
 of the controversy, endeavored to arrest both by a special 
 and unprecedented effort. They resolved that the news- 
 papers and political speakers in the two countries should 
 not hold the issues of peace and war entirely in their 
 own hands. One of their number, Joseph Crosfield, a 
 meek, earnest, clear-minded Quaker of Manchester, 
 originated the expedient adopted. It afterwards took the 
 name of " Friendly International Addresses ; " or manu- 
 script letters from English towns, signed by its leading 
 inhabitants, and addressed to the citizens of American 
 towns, expressing an earnest desire for an amicable set- 
 tlement of the controversy, and entreating their co-opera- 
 tion in bringing it about. These friendly addresses from 
 
20 Ten-Mimde Talks. 
 
 England were forwarded to Mr. Burritt. and by him to 
 their respective destinations. He also had copies of 
 them made into Olive Leaves, and sent' to all the news- 
 papers in the United States. Two of them he took in 
 person to Philadelphia and Washington. The latter 
 address was from Edinburgh, and bore the names of 
 Dr. Chalmers, Professor Wilson, and other distinguished 
 men of that city. This he showed to Mr. Calhoun, who 
 read the address, and looked at the signatures with much 
 interest. He cordially approved of the expression of 
 such sentiments in direct communications between the 
 people of one country and the citizens of another, on 
 questions of such vital importance to both, and he prom- 
 ised to do what he could to effect an amicable arrange- 
 ment of the existing difficulty. 
 
 In consequence of his co-operation in this movement, 
 and of his correspondence with the English friends who 
 originated it, Mr. Burritt sailed for England in May, 
 1846, on the steamer that carried out the news of the 
 settlement of the Oregon Question. He proposed to be 
 absent only three months, with the intention of making 
 a foot-tour through the kingdom. But the openings for 
 labor in the peace cause that presented themselves on 
 his arrival, induced him to prolong his sojourn in Eng- 
 land three years ; during which, with the help of a de- 
 voted associate in Worcester, he still carried on '' The 
 Christian Citizen" in that town. A few weeks after he 
 first met his English friends in Manchester and Birming- 
 ham, with their entire sympathy and support, he devel- 
 oped the basis of an international association, called 
 " The League of Universal Brotherhood," designed not 
 
Autobiography of the Author, 21 
 
 only to work for the abolition of war, but also for the 
 promotion of friendly and fraternal feelings and relations 
 between different countries. The signing of the follow- 
 iog pledge constituted any man or woman a member of 
 the association : — 
 
 *' Believing all war to be inconsistent with the spirit of 
 Christianity and destructive of the best interests of mankind, I 
 do hereby pledge myself never to enlist or enter into any army 
 or navy, or to yield any voluntary support or sanction to any 
 war, by Avhomsoever or for whatsoever proposed, declared, or 
 waged. And I do liereby associate myself with all persons, of 
 whatever country, color, or condition, who have signed, or shall 
 hereafter sign, this pledge, in a League of Universal Brother- 
 hood, whose object shall be, to employ all legitimate and moral 
 means for the abolition of all war, and all the spirit and mani- 
 festations of war tliroughout the world; for the abolition of all 
 restrictions upon international correspondence and friendly 
 intercourse, and of whatever else tends to make enemies of 
 nations, or prevents their fusion into one peaceful brotherhood; 
 for the abolition of all institutions and customs which do not 
 recognize and respect the image of God and a human brother 
 in every man, of whatever clime, color, or condition of 
 humanity." 
 
 This basis of association presented a broad foundation 
 for philanthropic labor, embracing objects and operations 
 far beyond those contemplated by Peace Societies proper. 
 To bring these before the public, Mr. Burritt gave up 
 his proposed tour on foot through England, and went up 
 and down the country addressing public meetings and 
 social circles on the subject. Through the most generous 
 aid of Joseph Sturge, of Birmingham, he commenced 
 the publication of ''The Bond of Brotherhood" in that 
 
22 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 town as an exponent of the spirit, principles, and objects 
 of the new association. These commended themselves 
 to a great number of influential persons in all parts of 
 Great Britain. In less than a year several thousand in 
 the United Kingdom had signed the pledge, and an equal 
 number in the United States. The association was 
 formally organized in London, in May, 1847, and took 
 its place among the benevolent societies of the day, 
 and began to work outward to the circumference of its 
 basis of action. One of the first operations it set on 
 foot was one for the abolition of all restrictions upon 
 international correspondence and friendly intercourse. 
 International postage was then almost a crushing restric- 
 tion upon such intercourse, especially between the hun- 
 dreds of thousands of Irish and English immigrants in 
 America and their poorer relatives and friends in the 
 mother country. In September, 1847, Mr. Burritt first 
 developed the proposition of a Universal Ocean Penny 
 Postage ; that is, that the single service of transport- 
 ing a letter across the sea in any direction, or to any 
 distance, should be performed for one penny, or two 
 cents, this charge to be added to the inland rate on 
 each side. Thus the whole charge proposed on a single 
 letter between any town in Great Britain and any town 
 in the. United States was to be three pence, or six cents. 
 A very lively and general interest was manifested in this 
 proposition among all classes. In the course of two 
 winters, Mr. Burritt addressed one hundred and fifty 
 public meetings on the subject from Penzance to Aber- 
 deen, and from Cork to Belfast. Hundreds of petitions 
 were presented to Parliament in behalf of the reform, 
 
Autobiography of the Author, 23 
 
 and the movement in its favor v^as recognized as a popu- 
 lar agitation. 
 
 In the winter of 1847 Mr. Burritt visited Ireland, to 
 explore the depth and distress of the Potato Famine, and 
 to describe it, as an American eye-witness, to the 
 people of the United States. He spent four days in 
 Skibbereen, the most distressed district, going from 
 cabin to cabin, and seeing sights of misery and despair 
 that were harrowing and heart-rending. These he de- 
 scribed in a small pamphlet entitled " Four Days in 
 Skibbereen," which was published and circulated in 
 England, and also sent, through " The Christian Citi- 
 zen " at Worcester, to a thousand newspapers in America. 
 This, with an appeal written on the spot, in hearing of 
 the wailings of the famished creatures that surrounded 
 the little inn at night, may have tended to increase the 
 contributions of food and clothing sent from the United 
 States. 
 
 A few days after the deposition and flight of Louis 
 Philippe from France, Mr. Burritt went over to Paris to 
 endeavor to prepare the way for a conference of the 
 friends of Peace from different countries in that capital. 
 No meeting of the kind had ever been held on the 
 continent, and as the new regime in France had raised, 
 as their banner, '' Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity," 
 the opportunity seemed favorable for inaugurating such a 
 movement. After a few wrecks' sojourn and conference 
 with men most likely to co-operate in Paris, he returned 
 to England, and visited most of the large towns, with 
 the view of securing delegates to the proposed convention. 
 A considerable number of influential men promised to 
 
24 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 attend it, if it should be held, and everything for a while 
 promised favorably. But the "Three Days of June" 
 intervened with their deeds of violence and blood. - This 
 calamitous event barred the way to the proposed meeting 
 in Paris, so that it was held instead in Brussels, in Sep- 
 tember, 1848. Here it succeeded beyond the most 
 sanguine expectations of its friends. The Belgian 
 government and authorities did everything that could 
 be asked of them, and more too, to facilitate and recog- 
 nize the meeting. There were about one hundred and 
 fifty delegates present from Great Britain, many from 
 France, Germany, Holland, and other countries. The 
 sessions lasted three days, and all the discussions and pro- 
 ceedings were conducted and characterized with the best 
 spirit and harmony. An earnest address to the Govern- 
 ments and Peoples of Christendom was adopted and 
 signed by the president and vice-presidents, and presented 
 personally by them, as a deputation, to Lord John Russell, 
 then Prime Minister of England. This address was not 
 only forwarded to all the governments of Europe, but 
 was published in many of the continental journals. The 
 meeting at Brussels, which the English delegates only 
 ventured to call a conference^ was recognized and de- 
 nominated a Peace Congress by both the continental 
 and English press, and it constituted a new and impor- 
 tant event in the history of the cause, and gave to it a 
 new impulse and character. 
 
 The friends of Peace in England, greatly increased in 
 number, courage, and faith by the demonstration in 
 Brussels, now set on foot more vigorous operations. The 
 League of Universal Brotherhood united with the London 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 25 
 
 Peace Society in a special effort to press upon tlie con- 
 sideration of and adoption by the English Parliament of 
 a motion to be brought forward by Richard Cobden for 
 Stipulated Arbitration, or for special treaties between all 
 the governments of Christendom, by which they should 
 bind themselves to refer to arbitration any question 
 which they could not settle by ordinary negotiation. Rev. 
 Henry Richard, the able and eloquent secretary of the 
 London Peace Society, and Mr. Burritt, as representing the 
 League of Universal Brotherhood, travelled together up 
 and down the kingdom, addressing public meetings in be- 
 half of Mr. Cobden's motion. Other advocates of the 
 cause did the same. A great number of petitions were 
 presented to the House of Commons, and other influences 
 brought to bear upon it in favor of the measure. This 
 was brought forward by Mr. Cobden, before a full house, 
 in a most effective speech, followed by a very animated 
 and important discussion. More than seventy members 
 voted with Mr. Cobden, and this debate and division, at 
 the end of so many public meetings, impressed the idea 
 of Stipulated Arbitration deeply upon the mind of the 
 nation, and in a perceptible degree upon all the govern- 
 ments and peoples of Christendom. 
 
 When the movement for Stipulated Arbitration had 
 been brought to this issue, Mr. Richard and Mr. Burritt 
 went upon the Continent to prepare for the Peace Con- 
 gress which it had been resolved to hold in Paris, in 
 1849. The way was now clear and free for convening 
 such an assembly. Some of the most able men of 
 France not only gave their adhesion and sympathy, but 
 their generous and active co-operation, to the undertak- 
 
26 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 ing. An international committee of arrangements was 
 formed to develope and settle the agencla of the congress, 
 composed of such men as Frederic Bastiat, Victor 
 Hugo, Emile de Girardin, M. de Cormenin, Joseph 
 Gamier, Aoguste Visschers, President of the Peace Con- 
 gress in Brussels, Richard Cobden, and other English 
 members. The French government did all in its power 
 to facilitate the congress and give to it the stamp of its 
 approbation. It admitted the whole English and Ameri- 
 can delegation without examination of their luggage at 
 the custom-house, and without any other passports than 
 their tickets as members of the congress. It gave them 
 free access, on the presentation of these tickets, to all the 
 Gajleries of Paintings, Libraries, and Public Buildings 
 in Paris. As a finishing token of its respect, it directed 
 the fountains of Versailles and St. Cloud to be played 
 for their special entertainment — an honor which hitherto 
 had been paid only to foreign sovereigns visiting Paris. 
 M. de Tocqueville, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, 
 invited all the delegates to his official residence, and 
 showed them the most sympathetic attentions and interest 
 in their philanthropic object. Before the opening of the 
 congress, he had invited Messrs. Richard and Burritt to 
 breakfast with him en famille^ and had manifested an 
 earnest good-will to the cause they were laboring to 
 promote. 
 
 The Peace Congress of 1849, in Paris, was the most 
 remarkable assembly that had ever taken place on the 
 continent of Europe, not only for its objects, but for its 
 personal composition. The English delegation numbered 
 about sevea hundred, and were conveyed across the 
 
Autohiografhy of the Author. 27 
 
 Channel by two steamers specially chartered for the pur- 
 pose. They not only represented but headed nearly all 
 the benevolent societies and movements in Great Britain. 
 Indeed, Eichard Cobden told M. de Tocqueville that if 
 the tvy^o steamers sank with them in the Channel, all the 
 philanthropic enterprises in the United Kingdom would 
 be stopped for a year. There were a goodly number of 
 delegates from the United States, including Hon. Amasa 
 Walker, of Massachusetts, Hon. Charles Durkee, of Wis- 
 consin, President Mahan, of Oberlin College, President 
 Allen, of Bowdoin College, and other men of ability. 
 Nearly all the European countries v/ere represented by 
 men full of sympathy with the movement. Victor Hugo 
 was chosen president, and, supported on each side by vice- 
 presidents of different nations, arose and opened the pro- 
 ceedings with probably the most eloquent and brilliant 
 speech he ever uttered on any occasion. Emiie de 
 Girardin, Abbe Deguerry, Cure de la Madeleine, the 
 Cocquerels, father and son, spoke with remarkable power 
 and effect, as representing the French members ; Eichard 
 Cobden, Eev. John Burnet, Henry Vincent, and other 
 English delegates delivered speeches of the happiest 
 inspiration ; Amasa Walker, President Mahan, Charles 
 Durkee, and others well represented and expressed 
 American views and sentiments ; and delegates from 
 Belgium, Holland, and Germany spoke with great earnest- 
 ness and ability. The congress was continued for three 
 days, and the interest in its proceedings constantly in- 
 creased up to the last moment. The closing speech of 
 Victor Hugo was eloquent and beautiful beyond descrip- 
 tion. Emile de Girardin said of it, that it did not termi- 
 
28 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Date, but eternized the coDgress. The next day the gov- 
 ernment gave the great entertainment at Versailles, which 
 was varied by a very pleasant incident. The English 
 members gave the American delegates a public breakfast 
 in the celebrated Tennis Hall, or Salle de Paumes, at 
 Versailles, so connected with the great French Revolution. 
 Kichard Cobden presided, and testified to the appreciation, 
 on the part of the English members, of the zeal for the 
 cause of peace shown by their American brethren in 
 crossing the ocean to attend the congress. A French 
 Testament, with a few words of pleasant remembrance 
 signed by himself as chairman of the meeting, was 
 presented to each of them, and which will be doubtless 
 treasured in their families as an interesting souvenir 
 of the occasion. 
 
 As at Brussels, an address to the governments and 
 peoples of Christendom was drawn up by Victor Hugo, 
 Richard Cobden, and other members of the Committee 
 on Resolutions. This was presented to Louis Napoleon, 
 then President of the French Republic, by Hugo, Girar- 
 din, Cobden, Visschers, and other national representatives. 
 It urged Stipulated Arbitration, Proportionate and Si- 
 multaneous Disarmament, and a Congress of Nations, as 
 three measures for abolishing War and organizing Peace 
 between nations. These propositions were pressed upon 
 him very ably and earnestly by the deputation, and they 
 seem to have produced a deep impression upon his 
 mind ; for within the last few years he has proposed 
 one or two of these measures to the governments of 
 Europe for the settlement of serious questions, and for 
 the diminution of armaments in time of peace. Several 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 29 
 
 young Frenchmen, who attended the congress as- mere 
 boys, were greatly impressed, and when they came to 
 manhood, they organized The League of Universal 
 Peace in Paris, which has become a powerful organiza- 
 tion, and the centre and source of other societies for the 
 same object on the Continent. It was at the annual 
 meeting of this League of Peace that the celebrated 
 Father Hyacinthe delivered one of his most eloqueut ad- 
 dresses, which has obtained such wide circulation as 
 a model of rhetoric, good sentiment, and logic. 
 
 The next Peace Congress was appointed to be held at 
 Frankfort-on-the-Maiu, and it was determined to make 
 it worthy to follow the great meeting in Paris. Mr. 
 Burritt, having prolonged his sojourn in Europe from 
 three months to three years, returned to the United 
 States with Professor Walker, Hamilton Hill, and other 
 members of the American delegation. Oq passing 
 through Manchester, he received the following testimo- 
 nial in reference to his labors for the cause of peace and 
 universal brotherhood, as stated in the Examiner and 
 Times, of that city. It was beautifully engrossed, and 
 enclosed in an elegant mahogany case, and signed in be- 
 half of the meeting by George Wilson, Esq., Chairman 
 of the Anti-Corn Law League. 
 
 " At a meeting of the friends of peace, held in the League 
 Rocnis, Manchester, October 5, 1849, it was moved by John 
 Bright, Esq., M. P., seconded by Sir Elkanah Armitage, and 
 resolved, unanimously, That the lieartfelt thanks of this meeting 
 are due to Elihu Burritt, whose great intellectual powers and 
 high moral faculties, regulated and directed by a deep sense of 
 religious duty, have been devoted, regardless of his own ease, 
 
30 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 and health, and worldljr prospects, to promote the principles of 
 peace ; and wliose eloquent utterance, by speech and pen, has 
 placed before the nations of the earth, in attractive beauty, the 
 doctrine that war is repugnant to the spirit of the gospel, and 
 destructive to the best interests of mankind : That its thanks are 
 especially due for his recent indefatigable and successful labors 
 to bring together, in the capital of a warlike and powerful na- 
 tion, a great congress, at which arbitration, instead of war, in the 
 settlement of disputes between nations, was recommended with 
 a force of truth and eloquence which could not fail to carry con- 
 viction to the millions hitherto looking for no wiser nor better 
 arbitrament than sanguinary conflict : That, regarding the in- 
 fluence he may continue to exercise in promoting peace on earth 
 and good will towards men, as the great promised result of 
 the Christian dispensation, this meeting rejoices that he is now 
 about to enjoy, in his native land, and among his early friends, 
 some relaxation from his exhausting labors, and expresses its 
 ardent hope that he may soon be enabled, re-invigorated in 
 health, and endued with fresh energy, to resume the good work 
 in a field of world-wide usefulness to which he has set his 
 mind." 
 
 On arriving in America, Mr. Burritt was welcomed by 
 the citizens of New Britain with a testimonial of respect 
 and esteem which he prized above all other public ex- 
 pressions of regard that he ever received. An assembly 
 that filled the new Town Hall to overflowing, including 
 a large number of distinguished persons from Hartford 
 and other towns, came together to give him this welcome 
 and token of sympathy and approbation as to his labors 
 at home and abroad. The venerable Professor E. A. 
 Andrews presented to him, on their behalf, the following 
 address, which was seconded by Plon. J. M. Niles, Dr. 
 Bushnell, and other gentlemen from Ilartford : — 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 31 
 
 *'Mr. Bdrritt : Your fellow-citizens here assembled have 
 authorized me, as their representative, to express to you their 
 most cordial welcome on your return once more to your native 
 village, and to the scenes and companions of your early life. 
 You will see, sir, in the circle which surrounds you, not a few 
 of those who here commenced life with you, whose childhood 
 was inured to similar toils, who shared in the same active sports, 
 and who daily resorted to the same humble school-room, where 
 your literary ardor, which ever since those days has burned so 
 brightly, was first enkindled. In the name of each of these, 
 and of all your old associates and early friends here present, 
 and, above all, in the name of your fair friends who in such 
 numbers grace this large assemblage, and by whose hands tliese 
 rooms have been so beautifully adorned for this occasion, I bid 
 you, sir, a hearty welcome, after long absence, to your native 
 land, and to those scenes endeared to you by the memory of 
 kindred and of home. These all, in common w^ith distinguished 
 friends here present from other towns, men to whom our state 
 looks for counsel, and on whom its freemen ever delight to be- 
 stow their highest honors, rejoice in this opportunity of mani- 
 festing their respect for one who, by eminent success in the pur- 
 suit of knowledge, in circumstances of unusual difficulty, has 
 reflected so much honor on his native land. Arduous indeed 
 is that student's path, who, trusting to his own unaided efi'brts, 
 firmly resolves to win for himself that wreath of fame which, 
 like the crown of Israel's first king, is bestowed on those alone 
 who tower in stature far above the surrounding multitude. Such 
 a path, sir, we have seen you tread; and, with mingled emotions 
 of joy and pride, we now congratulate you upon a success so 
 complete that it may well satisfy the loftiest ambition. We espe- 
 cially rejoice that a literary reputation so well earned is now 
 fully known and recognized, not in our own country only, but 
 equally so in foreign lands. 
 
 *' But, sir, we would not, in our admiration of intellectual cul- 
 tivation, forget the still more important culture of the heart. 
 We have witnessed with the highest satisfaction that, while 
 
32 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 eagerly devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, and while minister- 
 ing to your own necessities by laboring daily with your own hands, 
 you have cheerfully devoted your, powers and attainments to 
 the task of elevating the social and moral condition of mankind. 
 To do this, and to do it wisely, is the greatest problem of this and 
 of every age — a problem to be solved in no other manner than by 
 following the teachings of unerring Wisdom. Amidst the con- 
 flicting views of mankind in relation to the proper means for the 
 attainment of this great end, we can still rest in the assured con- 
 fidence that the long night of error will at last draw to its close, 
 and the dawn of that better day will beam upon the nations. To 
 co-operate with the plans of Infinite Wisdom in hastening for- 
 ward this consummation is the proper mission of man. The 
 day, we trust, may even now be near, when organized systems 
 of oppression and violence will vanish away ; when the feebler 
 shall find in the more powerful, not oppressors, but friends and 
 protectors ; and when the controversies of nations — if such con- 
 troversies shall then exist — shall be settled, not by violence, 
 but by the eternal principles of justice. 
 
 ''We are gratified, sir, that your efibrts have been directed, 
 with such flattering success, to the means for removing from the 
 minds of men a belief in the necessity of a final appeal to arms 
 in adjusting national disputes. In this enterprise the wise and 
 good of all nations will bid you God speed ; and surely the bless- 
 ing of the Prince of Peace will rest on those who, in imitation 
 of his example, seek to promote ' peace on earth.' 
 
 "... Once more, sir, in the name of my fellow-citizens, and, 
 may I be permitted to add, in my own name also, I bid you a 
 hearty welcome to your native town. We regret that your 
 visit is so brief, but hope that, short as it is, it will serve to 
 impress the conviction still more deeply upon your heart, 
 that whatever honors await you abroad, in the society of the 
 learned and noble of other lands, you can nowhere be re- 
 garded with more sincere affection than by the people of this 
 village, and by the circle of the friends by whom you are now 
 surrounded." 
 
Autohiografhy of tJie Author, 33 
 
 Mr. Burritt's response to this and other testimonial ad- 
 dresses may be found in his '' Lectures and Speeches." 
 
 After a few weeks in AYorcester, during which he as- 
 sociated Mr. J. B. Syme, from Edinburgh, with his co- 
 editor, Thomas Drew, in conducting " The Christian Citi- 
 zen," Mr. Burritt commenced a tour through most of the 
 states of the Union with the view of securing delegates 
 to the Peace Congress at Frankfort. Many of these 
 were appointed at public meetings, and a goodly num- 
 ber engaged to cross the ocean to take part in the pro- 
 ceedings of that new Parliament of the People. In the 
 following May, 1850, he returned to England, and went 
 with Mr. Richard upon the Continent to prepare for the 
 forthcoming congress. They visited nearly all the prin- 
 cipal towns in Germany, including Hamburg, Berlin, 
 Dresden, Munich, and Stutgart, and had interviews with 
 many of the most distinguished men in Germany, and 
 obtained their promise of co-operation, or adhesion to 
 the objects of the movement. Among others, they saw 
 the venerable Alexander Von Humboldt, Professor Liebig, 
 Tholuck, Hengstenberg, and other eminent men. 
 
 The congress at Frankfort was all its most sanguine 
 friends could have hoped. It was more representa- 
 tive of European countries than the one at Paris. It 
 required two special steamers to convey the English 
 delegates up the Rhine. There were delegates from all 
 the German states, and some from Italy. France was 
 well represented by Emile de Girardin, M. de Cormenin, 
 Joseph Gamier, and others, who had taken part in the 
 Paris congress. Auguste Visschers, President of the 
 Brussels congress, was present and full of earnest activi- 
 3 
 
34 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 tj and zeal. The American delegation was large and 
 influential, including Professor Hitchcock, Rev. E. Cha- 
 pin, Rev. Dr. Bullard, Rev. E. B. Hull, Rev. Mr. Pen- 
 nington, and others from different states. Richard Cob- 
 den was not only a leading spirit on the platform, but 
 was present several days before the sessions commenced, 
 as a member of the Committee of Organization, and gave 
 his invaluable aid to the preparation of the Resolutions to 
 be presented, discussed, and adopted, which were the most 
 difficult, important, and responsible of all the proceed- 
 ings. The German members of the committee were 
 most hearty in their co-operation, and the whole popula- 
 tion of Frankfort manifested a lively interest in the new 
 and strange Parliament that was to be held in the city 
 of German Emperors. Its place of assembly was 
 specially appropriate. It was the great and venerable 
 St. Paul's Church, in which the Parliament of New Ger- 
 many assembled in 1848, in the unsuccessful attempt to 
 reconstruct the great Fatherland on a new basis of Union, 
 Freedom, and Fraternity. Herr Jaup, of Darmstadt, 
 was chosen President, Professor Liebig, Richard Cobden, 
 M. de Girardin, Auguste Visschers, and Professor Hitch- 
 cock, were some of the Vice-Presidents. The congress 
 lasted three days, and all the proceedings were marked 
 with a harmonious and earnest spirit. The same meas- 
 ures as at Paris were discussed and approved, and an 
 address adopted to the governments and peoples of Chris- 
 tendom, pressing upon their attention these plans for 
 '• organizing peace," to use Lamartine's expression. 
 
 An incident of peculiar interest occurred at the last 
 session of the congress. A war had already broken out 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 35 
 
 between Schleswig-Holsteiu and Denraark, upon a ques- 
 tion in which all Germany, especially Prussia, was in- 
 volved. A number of influential men in Berlin desired 
 the congress to express an opinion on the merits of the 
 question, and telegraphed to that effect, asking that a 
 hearing might be given to a commissioner that had been 
 despatched to Frankfort for that purpose. This was 
 Dr. Bodenstedt, a very learned and able man, and ear- 
 nest partisan of the Schleswig-Holstein cause. But the 
 congress could not entertain the proposition, as it w^as 
 precluded by one of its fundamental rules from meddling 
 with any local or current question of controversy. But 
 after consultation with Dr. Bodenstedt, it was thgught 
 allowable and proper that three members of the con- 
 gress should go in a voluntary or individual capacity to 
 the belligerent parties, and try to induce them to refer 
 the controversy to arbitration. Consequently, on the 
 return of the English and American delegates from 
 Frankfort, Joseph Sturge, Frederic Wheeler, and Elihu 
 Burritt left them at Cologne, and proceeded to Berlin, 
 where they met Dr. Bodenstedt and his friends, and pro- 
 cured letters of introduction and other directions for 
 their mission. They then proceeded immediately to 
 Kiel, and had an interview with the members of the pro- 
 visional government, and laid before them the object of 
 their visit. They were well received, and letters were 
 given them to the military authorities of Rendsburg, the 
 headquarters of the army, which was preparing for 
 another battle with the Danes. They repaired to that 
 fortress, and had a long interview with the civil and mili- 
 tary chiefs, and submitted to them the simple proposi- 
 
36 Ten-AIinute Talks. 
 
 tion whether, at that stage of hostilities, they would con- 
 sent to refer the difficulty to arbitration if the Danish 
 government would do the same. Having fought so long, 
 and feeling able and determined to win their cause by 
 arms, they hesitated as to the form of their consent to the 
 proposition, lest it might indicate weakness ; but the 
 deputation put it so conditionally on the corresponding 
 action of the Danes, that they fully acceded to the pro- 
 posed basis of settlement. 
 
 Having obtained the consent of the Schleswig-Hol- 
 steiners to refer the question to arbitration, the deputation 
 next proceeded to Copenhagen, and had several inter- 
 views with the Danish ministers. Here a difficulty of 
 another nature had to be met and overcome. To sub- 
 mit the question to arbitration w^as, to a certain or sensi- 
 ble degree, to recognize the Schleswig-Holsteiners as 
 an independent people, on the same national footing as 
 the Danes themselves. The deputation addressed them- 
 selves to this difficulty with great earnestness and assidu- 
 ity. There is no question that the simple eloquence of 
 Joseph Sturge's goodness of heart, and the plea he made 
 with tears moistening and illuminating the beautiful ra- 
 diance of his benevolent face, impressed the Danish 
 minister more deeply than any mere diplomatic commu- 
 nication could have done. At any rate, the peculiar 
 difficulty involved in the proposed reference was waived, 
 and the Danish government consented to the preliminary 
 steps to arbitration. The foreign minister nominated a 
 distinguished civilian to be put in correspondence with 
 some one chosen to the same position by the Schleswig- 
 Holstein authorities ; and the deputation left Copenha-^ 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 37 
 
 gen, feeling that one stage towards the settlement of an 
 aggravated question had been accomplished. They again 
 proceeded to Kiel, and announced the result of their mis- 
 sion to Denmark, and a gentleman of great ability and 
 judgment was appointed to be the medium of commu- 
 nication with the gentleman appointed by the Danes. 
 Messrs. Sturge and Wheeler now returned to England, 
 leaving Mr. Burritt to conduct the correspondence neces- 
 sary to the gradual induction of direct negotiation be- 
 tween the two parties to the dispute. He remained 
 three months in Hamburg for this purpose, and had con- 
 siderable correspondence with the Danish authorities on 
 the subject. But just as the negotiations seemed on the 
 point of effecting a settlement by arbitration, the Aus- 
 trians marched into Schleswig-Holstein, and sprung a 
 judgment upon the case, and closed it summarily. The 
 effort, however, to settle the question by arbitration, even 
 when the parties were at open war, evidently made a 
 favorable impression upon the public mind, and it would 
 probably have succeeded had it not been interrupted by 
 forcible interference. 
 
 While Mr. Burritt was in Hamburg, he originated a 
 quiet scheme of operations for bringing the spirit, prin- 
 ciples, and objects of the Peace movement before the 
 masses of the people of the Continent of Europe. This 
 was the revival'or application of the Olive Leaf system 
 which he had set on foot in the United States. He first 
 arranged with a newspaper of large circulation in Paris, 
 to insert, once a month, about a column and a half of 
 matter, made up of short articles and paragraphs from 
 such writers as Erasmus, Robert Hall, Dr. Chalmers, 
 
38 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Cobdcn, Chauning, Worcester, Ladd, and other distin- 
 guished authorities. This was called '' An Olive Leaf 
 for the People." The French paper charged one hun- 
 dred francs for each Olive Leaf inserted ; but for this 
 sum it not only printed but circulated all over France 
 thirty thousand copies monthly, and that, too, with the 
 virtual commendation, as well as responsibility, of the 
 editor, effecting a work of enlightenment wliich could 
 not have been accomplished for five hundred dollars 
 through the medium of tracts, even if their distribution 
 had been allowed. The plan w^orked so well in France, 
 that Mr. Burritt entered into arrangements with the 
 leading journals in Germany and other continental coun- 
 tries for the monthly publication of an Olive Leaf of the 
 same character. The conductors of these journals were 
 willing to make liberal terms for the insertion, partly out 
 of sympathy with the matter, and partly because it was 
 put among the selections made by the editor, and did not 
 occupy any space given to paid advertisements. The 
 average price of each insertion in these German, Dutch, 
 Danish, and Italian journals was about six dollars. 
 To make this operation the more effective, it was desira- 
 ble and necessary that it should be conducted very quiet- 
 ly ; that its very origin and support should be virtually 
 concealed from the readers of the Olive Leaves, that they 
 might receive them as from their own 'editors, and not 
 know that their insertion was paid for. On return- 
 ing to England in the spring of 1851, the League of 
 Universal Brotherhood, of which Mr. Edmund Fry, a 
 most indefatigable worker, had become the secretary, 
 resumed its independent field of labor, embracing two 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 39 
 
 special operations. The first was the agitation for an 
 Ocean Penny Postage, the other, '' The Olive Leaf Mis- 
 sion," as just described. Up to this time the ladies of 
 Great Britain had never been especially enlisted in any 
 department of the Peace movement. The Olive Leaf 
 Mission seemed to present a very appropriate and effec- 
 tive enterprise for them. Consequently it was resolved 
 to commend it to their adoption by a special effort. Mr. 
 Burritt, therefore, in visiting all the principal towns in 
 England, Scotland, and Ireland, for the purpose of ad- 
 dressing meetings in behalf of Ocean Penny Postage, 
 generally met, in the afternoon of the same day, a com- 
 pany of ladies of all denominations, at a private house, 
 and explained to them the Olive Leaf Mission, and how 
 easily and quietly they might operate through it upon 
 the public mind in foreign countries. In almost every 
 case, after such an explanation, the ladies formed them- 
 selves into an association, which was called an " Olive 
 Leaf Society," which met once a month, corresponded 
 w^ith similar societies, and raised a certain amount to pay 
 for the insertion of the Olive Leaves in Continental jour- 
 nals. In the course of two years, over one hundred of 
 these ladies' societies w^ere organized, as the result of 
 these interviews and explanations, and they sustained the 
 whole expense of the mission, which was about two thou- 
 sand dollars a year. The Olive Leaves were translated 
 into seven different languages, and published monthly, in 
 more than forty different journals, from Copenhagen to 
 Vienna, and from Madrid to Stockholm. Thus several 
 millions of minds in all those countries were kept con- 
 tinuously under the dropping of ideas, facts, and doc- 
 
40 Ten-Afinute Talks. 
 
 trines which fell upon them as quietly as the dews of 
 heaven. 
 
 The Peace CoDgress of 1851 was held in Exeter Hall, 
 London, during the Great Exhibition, under the most 
 auspicious impulses and tendencies of the universal 
 mind of Christendom. Peace and the brotherhood of 
 nations seemed to be the watchwords of popular hope 
 and faith. These pleasant words of greeting festooned 
 the streets of London, and, as it were, gilded the Crys- 
 tal Palace itself. As it was expected, the assembly in 
 Exeter Hall was the largest and most influential Peace 
 Congress that had been held. There were full two thou- 
 sand present, and about two hundred ministers of diifer- 
 erent denominations sat upon the platform. The venera- 
 ble Sir David Brewster, LL. D. presided, and opened the 
 proceedings with a most impressive speech. Pichard 
 Cobden and other eminent Englishmen spoke with great 
 power. France, Germany, and Belgium were ably rep- 
 resented by members w^hose speeches were earnest and 
 eifective. Eev. Dr. Beckwith, Secretary of the Ameri- 
 can Peace Society, and Mr. Burritt, made the princi- 
 pal speeches as delegates from the United States. A 
 beautiful spirit of fraternal unanimity pervaded the pro- 
 ceedings of the congress, and no one who took part in 
 them will be likely to forget the occasion as long as he 
 lives. 
 
 The following year, 1852, was marked by an event 
 which made it desirable, and even necessary, that the 
 Peace Congress should again be held in England. This 
 event was the cowp d'etat^ which suddenly transformed the 
 French Republic into the Second Empire. The friends 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 41 
 
 of Peace, therefore, met at Manchester ; but though it 
 was a very satisfactory meeting, and well attended, it 
 was far more English or national in its composition than 
 the previous congresses had been. The sudden and 
 violent act of Louis Napoleon produced a profound and 
 angry sensation in England and other countries. It 
 aroused a wide-spread and energetic indignation in the 
 English press and Parliament, and seemed to excite and 
 inflame the old hereditary suspicion and prejudice towards 
 the French nation as well as government. The French 
 press was held back by severe restriction ; but if full 
 liberty for recrimination had been allowed it, the two 
 nations would have been in imminent danger of drifting 
 into war. As it was, that danger was very serious. 
 Leading English journals and public men wrote and 
 spoke with that unrestricted expression of sentiment so 
 characteristic of the English mind and habits. The 
 League of Universal Brotherhood resolved to try the 
 plan of friendly international addresses, as a counter- 
 acting influence against this rising tide of hostile senti- 
 ment. Through their instrumentality, over fifty of the 
 largest towns in Great Britain sent manuscript letters 
 or addresses to as many diflferent towns in France, dis- 
 claiming all sympathy with the unfriendly sentiments ex- 
 pressed by public journals and speakers, and conveying to 
 their French brethren their hearty good-will and assurances 
 of esteem and inviting their earnest co-operation in pre- 
 serving and strengthening amicable relations between the 
 two countries. London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dublin 
 addressed such communications to Paris, Manchester to 
 Marseilles, Liverpool to Lyons, Birmingham to Bordeaux, 
 
42 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 Bristol to Brest, Leeds to Lisle, Sheffield to Strasburg, &c. 
 Most of these addresses were signed bj the mayors and 
 other authorities of the towns, and by a large number of 
 their principal citizens. The one from Glasgow bore four 
 thousand names, including the city authorities, members of 
 Parliament, the heads of the University, and other influen- 
 tial persons. Mr. Burritt was the bearer of these addresses, 
 and travelled over most of France to present them in 
 person to the proper authorities. He also made copiea of 
 every address for all the journals of the town, and waited 
 upon their editors to obtain insertion of them, which was 
 always accompanied with a favorable introduction. Thus 
 the whole French nation were made acquainted with the 
 real sentiment of the English people towards them, which 
 English newspapers and political speeches had greatly 
 misrepresented. The effect or result of this movement 
 cannot be ascertained, but it so happened within a year 
 that England and France were united, as they never had 
 been before, in a great and perilous enterprise, and were 
 seen marching shoulder to shoulder in the Crimean War. 
 The Peace Congress of 1853 was held in Edinburgh, 
 and was marked with several special characteristics. One 
 of these was the presence of John Bright, who had never 
 before attended one of these great meetings. Here he sat 
 beside his old confrere in reforms, Richard Cobden, and the 
 two men spoke for peace with their old inspiration in the 
 Anti-Corn-Law agitation. Another incident of peculiar 
 interest was the presence on the platform of the veteran 
 and celebrated admiral, Sir Charles Napier, who made 
 a vigorous speech, claiming himself to be as good an ad- 
 vocate of peace as the best of them, although he would 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 43 
 
 put down M^ar by war. Cobden's answer to his argu- 
 ments w^as a masterly effort of reasoning powder. Dr. 
 Guthrie, and other eminent men of Edinburgh, took a part 
 in the proceedings, and the meeting was regarded as one 
 of the most successful of the series. 
 
 Immediately after the Edioburgh Congress, Mr. Burritt 
 returned to the United States, and gave himself entirely 
 to the Ocean Penny Postage agitation. Pie addressed 
 public meetings on the subject in many of the considera- 
 ble towns, and also had the opportunity of laying it be- 
 fore members of the legislatures of Massachusetts, Maine, 
 and Rhode Island. A committee was formed in Boston 
 to sustain and guide tlie movement, of which Dr. S. G. 
 Howe was chairman. Having addressed many public 
 meetings on the question in different states, Mr. Burritt 
 spent three months in Washington, seeking to enlist mem- 
 bers of Congress in behalf of the reform. The chair- 
 man of .the postal committee, Senator Push, was quite 
 favorable to it ; and at his request Mr. Burritt drew up 
 a report for the committee to adopt, presenting the main 
 facts and arguments to be urged upon the attention of 
 Congress. Hon. Charles Sumner agreed to bring for- 
 ward the proposition, and Senators Douglas, Cass, and 
 others on the Democratic side of the house, promised to 
 support it. The Nebraska Bill, however, blocked the 
 w^ay from week to week, and as the postponement w^as 
 likely to be prolonged, Mr. Burritt made a tour through 
 Southern and Western States to enlist an interest in those 
 sections. He visited Pichmond, Petersburg, Wilming- 
 ton, Charleston, Augusta, Macon, Milledgeville, and oth- 
 er southern cities, in several of which he presented tho 
 
44 Ten- Minute Talks. 
 
 subject at public meetings, and personally canvassed for 
 signatures to petitions to Congress in behalf of the reform 
 in all of them. And it is an interesting fact, that the 
 first and only petitions from Charleston and other south- 
 ern centres for an object of national interest were pre- 
 sented by Senators Mason, Badger, Butler, and Toombs, 
 for Ocean Penny Postage. From Chicago, on his re- 
 turn journey, Mr. Burritt passed through Canada, and 
 obtained petitions to the British Parliament in Toronto, 
 London, Hamilton, and other towns. 
 
 In August, 1854, Mr. Burritt returned to England, 
 and confined his labors principally to the Ocean Penny 
 Postage question, still conducting the Olive Leaf Mission 
 on the Continedt. The League of Brotherhood now con- 
 centrated its efforts upon these two movements. Under 
 its auspices an Ocean Penny Postage bazaar \\%s held 
 in Manchester, v/hich supplied funds for more extended 
 . operations. A wide-spread and active interest w^as 
 awakened in the subject, which resulted in a deputation 
 of more than two hundred influential men to Lord Aber- 
 deen, to urge upon the government the most forcible con- 
 siderations in favor of the reform. The venerable Sir 
 John Burgoyne, and many influential members of Parlia- 
 ment, and leading men from all parts of the kingdom, 
 formed the deputation. In the mean time, a large num- 
 ber of petitions were presented daily ia the Plouse of Com- 
 mons, where Right Hon. T. M. Gibson had undertaken 
 to bring forward the proposition, and Hon. C. B. Adder- 
 ley, from the conservative side of the house, was to sec- 
 ond the motion. Mr. Burritt went to Holland and 
 Prussia, and had interviews with cabinet ministers of 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 45 
 
 those countries, with the view of obtaiuing their co-opera- 
 tion, at least to this extent — that if England and the 
 United States reduced the ocean rate to a penny, they 
 should engage to reduce their inland charge on letters 
 crossing the sea to one penny. Under the pressure of 
 all this public interest in the question, the English gov- 
 ernment reduced its postal charges to India, Australia, 
 Canada, and to all its other colonies, to six pence for a 
 single letter, and to four pence to France. This was 
 full one half of what was sought in the agitation, and 
 as the government intimated a willingness to go farther 
 after trying the experiment, the movement was virtually 
 closed, as the main argument on which it rested had been 
 met. A long delay attended the second instalment, so 
 that an Ocean Penny Postage between England and the 
 United States and other countries was not fully realized 
 until 1870. 
 
 A war had now broken out and was raging between 
 the Allied Powers and Russia. The Peace movement, 
 in its special operations, was arrested. The antagonism 
 between Slavery and Freedom in America was becoming 
 more and more threatening to the peace of the nation. 
 Mr. Burritt, with the hope of doing a little towards the 
 pacific and equitable solution of this perilous question, 
 assumed, while iu London, the editorship of a small 
 monthly periodical in Philadelphia, called '' The Citizen 
 of the World," published by G. W. Taylor. In this he 
 advocated the proposition of Compensated Emancipa- 
 tion, to be defrayed by the whole nation out of the pro- 
 ceeds of the Public Lands, to be devoted exclusively to 
 this purpose. After a year's sojourn in England, he 
 
46 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 returned to America, and gave himself for several 
 winters to the advocacy of this plan of abolishing 
 slavery ; residing in summer, and w^orking on a small 
 farm he had purchased, in New Britain. Here also he 
 started a weekly paper, called '' The North and South," 
 which had a considerable circulation in both sections, 
 and which he devoted mainly to the proposed measure. In 
 the course of his advocacy, he addressed public meetings 
 in almost every considerable town and village from Cas- 
 tine in Maine to Iowa City, travelling nearly ten thousand 
 miles for this purpose in one winter. In all these meet- 
 ings he put the proposition to vote, and on an average, 
 full two thirds of all present raised their hands in its 
 favor. Having presented the subject in this way to the 
 public, and there being as yet no organized association 
 to support the movement, he endeavored to get up a 
 national convention for that object. He therefore sent 
 out a form of call for such a convention, which received 
 the signatures of nearly a thousand influential men from 
 all the Free States, and from some of the Southern also. 
 The convention was held in Cleveland, Ohio, in August, 
 1856, when a goodly number of delegates assembled 
 from various parts of the country. Dr. Mark Hopkins, 
 of Williams College, Mass., was chosen President. Ger- 
 rit Smith and other earnest anti-slavery men took part 
 in the proceedings. Kesolutions in favor of the scheme 
 were adopted, and a society called The National Com- 
 pensated Emancipation Society was organized, with 
 the venerable Dr. Eliphalet Nott as President, Dr. Hop- 
 kins, Governor Fairchild, of Vermont, and other influ- 
 ential men of diflferent states, were chosen Vice-Presi- 
 
Autohiografhy of the Author. 47 
 
 dents, and Mr. Burritt Secretary. Gerrit Smith gave 
 one hundred dollars, and J. D. Williams, of Ithaca, fifty 
 dollars on the spot to start the society ; and a lew weeks 
 afterwards, Mr. Burritt went to New York to open an 
 office and act as Secretary of the new association. In 
 this capacity he labored to get up state conventions in 
 favor of Cornpensated Emancipation, and these were 
 held successively in several different states. He also 
 plied the newspapers with short articles and paragraphs 
 on the subject, and a very promising and increasing 
 interest began to manifest itself in this peaceful and 
 fraternal way of removing the great incubus and evil 
 pressing so heavily and dangerously on the nation's life 
 and character. Some of the papers in the Southern 
 States published several of these short articles, especially 
 one giving the amount which each state would receive 
 for the emancipation of its slaves. Several of these 
 southern journals began to discuss the proposition in a 
 way that was best calculated to commend it to the con- 
 sideration of the southern mind ; for they based their 
 objections to it, as if intentionally, on the weakest 
 grounds, or on premises of their own adoption. One of 
 the first of these was, that the Northern States never 
 could be brought to put their hands in their own pockets 
 to such an extent, or to give up their portion of the 
 public domain to the extinction of slavery ; that they 
 would insist upon saving their pockets and their con- 
 sciences by putting the whole burden of the system and 
 its abolition upon the South ; that their only plan w^as to 
 kill Slavery by hedging it within an area which would 
 become too small for it to breathe and live in, and where 
 
48 Ten-Mmute Talks. 
 
 it must die of plethora ; that the slaves would impoverish 
 the land as they increased in number, and both would 
 become worthless in some not very remote future ; that 
 the system would thus be stifled under a general bank- 
 ruptcy of the whole South. 
 
 Mr. Burritt labored long and hard to impress upon the 
 northern mind the conviction that the whole nation could 
 not afford to let Slavery die under the financial ruins or 
 general bankruptcy of the South; that we stood in a 
 moral relation to the system which would not justify us 
 in waiting for its extinction by this slow, stifling process 
 of " restriction ; *' that the whole nation ought to bear 
 the burden of its removal ; that it would better " pay " 
 the whole nation to bear it on its strong, broad shoulders, 
 than to let the entire burden crush the South under the 
 general breakdown which was anticipated for that section. 
 He endeavored to demonstrate that the nation had the 
 means in its public lands to buy slavery out of existence, 
 without taking a dollar from the pockets of the people 
 of the Free States ; that these lands, if well husbanded, 
 would yield enough to pay two hundred and fifty dollars 
 per head for all the slaves in the Union, young and old, 
 halt and blind ; and also to produce a surplus of at least 
 three hundred millions of dollars for the good of the 
 slaves, as a kind of '^freedom suit/' after their emancipa- 
 tion ; that the spirit of this great joint act of justice and 
 duty would unite North and South with bonds of fellow- 
 ship which had never existed between them. He pressed 
 upon the public mind, as far as he could, the considera- 
 tion that the nation could not more gratefully recognize 
 the gift of such a continent, before God and humanity, 
 
Auiobiografhy of the Author. 49 
 
 than by consecrating that portion of its domain between 
 the Mississippi and the Pacific to the emancipation of 
 all the slaves within its borders. He urged that this 
 vast domain, if not thus devoted to a great national object, 
 w^ould be alienated by private speculation ; that railroad 
 monopolies and other corporations and rings of capitalists 
 would grab up the whole area, piece by piece, by a cor- 
 rupting process that would impoverish the political 
 morality of the government and nation. 
 
 The scheme proposed began to be favorably consid- 
 ered and discussed. Many petitions to Congress were 
 presented by members of both houses, including Messrs. 
 Seward, Sumner, and others i'4 the Senate. But just as 
 it had reached that stage at which congressional action 
 was about to recognize it as a legitimate proposition, 
 " John Brown's Raid " suddenly closed the door against 
 all overtures or efforts for the peaceful extinction of 
 slavery. Its extinction by compensation would have 
 recognized the moral complicity of the w^hole nation in 
 planting and perpetuating it on this continent. It would 
 have been an act of repentance, and the meetest work 
 for repentance the nation could perform. But it was too 
 late. It was too heavy and red to go out in tears. Too 
 late ! it had to go out in blood, and the whole nation 
 opened the million sluices of its best life to deepen and 
 widen the costly flood. If, before these sluice-gates 
 were opened to these red streams, so hot with passion, 
 one hona fide offer had been made by the North to share 
 with the South the task, cost, and duty of lifting slavery 
 off from the bosom of the nation, perhaps thousands 
 who gave up their first-born and youngest-born to death 
 4 
 
50 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 might have looked into that river of blood with more 
 ease and comfort at their hearts. Although the earth 
 has drunk that red river out of human sight, it still runs 
 fresh and full, without the waste of a drop, before the 
 eyes of God ; and the patriot, as well as Christian, might 
 well wish that He could recognize in the stream the 
 shadow of an honest effort on the part of the North to 
 lift the great sin and curse without waiting for such a 
 deluge to sweep them away. 
 
 The proposition to w^hich Mr. Burritt had given so 
 many years of labor, by speech and pen, was now forever 
 barred by the flaming two-edged sword of civil war. It 
 had been to him one of the most hopeful labors of his 
 life ; one so full of good promise to the nation that he 
 gave to it a kind of enthusiasm which he had felt in no 
 other undertaking. Up to this time he had never stopped 
 to earn money or to acquire property ; and at fifty years 
 of age he was without other resources than what he 
 could find in a small stony farm in New Britain, tilled by 
 his own hands. During the summer he wrote most of 
 his editorials, in his shirt-sleeves, on the head of a lime 
 cask in his barn, pen and hoe alternating through the 
 day. When soliciting signatures to the call for the 
 Cleveland Convention, he mowed an acre on a Fourth 
 of July, and w^rote about twenty letters in his barn the 
 same day, his farm being nearly a mile from the village. 
 A few kind Quaker ladies of New Bedford sent him 
 money enough to pay the postage of a thousand letters ; 
 and the whole sum- contributed by the friends of this 
 peaceful scheme of Compensated Emancipation amounted 
 to about two hundred dollars. At the organization of 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 51 
 
 a National Society at the Cleveland Convention, he was 
 chosen Secretary, and was encouraged more by his faith 
 in the cause, than by any patent facts, to open an office 
 in the Bible House, New York, for the new association, 
 at the rent of nearly three hundred dollars a year. Here 
 he labored night and day to interest the public mind, and 
 to obtain the adhesion of influential men and journals 
 to the cause. He sent out thousands of circulars and 
 printed statements, developing the scheme, and soliciting 
 co-operation in making it successful. But these docu- 
 ments and the rent of the office absorbed all the money 
 which Gerrit Smith and J. D. Williams had contributed 
 at Cleveland to start the society, and they did not bring 
 twenty dollars into the treasury. Unwilling to charge a 
 single meal or a night's lodging upon these small funds 
 of the society, Mr. Burritt had to subject himself to the 
 interesting experience of many a reformer, and tried to 
 live on sixteen cents a day for food. This he effected 
 by using cheap cold water from the pump and a small 
 loaf of brown bread for breakfast and tea, and a twelve- 
 cent cut of meat for dinner. Still there was a wide 
 interest awakening in the cause, though it did not take 
 that pecuniary direction necessary to support a movement 
 involving considerable expense. But " Old John Brown 
 was marching on," and at Harper's Ferry he put his 
 foot on ''Compensated Emancipation" and stopped its 
 march forever. 
 
 Mr. Burritt now settled down upon his little farm, 
 without any regret that he had given so much time and 
 labor to avert a catastrophe which so many thousands, 
 North and South, had predicted and apprehended with 
 
52 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 good reason. After such a long strain of mental exercise 
 and excitement, it was a luxury to him to pull oiF coat 
 and vest and harden his sinews again to robust outdoor 
 w^ork. No farmer ever entered into his occupation with 
 more zest, or more enjoyed the effort to make two spires 
 of grass grow where one did not before. He also 
 exerted himself to awaken a new and deeper interest in 
 farming in the town, w^iere manufacturing had absorbed 
 more of the energy and ambition of the inhabitants. 
 Through his efforts in this direction an Agricultural 
 Club was formed, of which he was appointed secretary, 
 and which for twelve years has met regularly in the 
 winter months to discuss agricultural matters. 
 
 Early in 1863 Mr. Burritt again visited England, not 
 with the expectation of reviving the movements he had 
 originated there, but rather to see old friends and co-workers 
 and revive the pleasant memories of former years. He 
 spent that winter in lecturing upon subjects of general 
 interest in various parts of the kingdom, and in the 
 following summer he set out on a foot tour from London 
 to John o'Groat's. His chief object was an agricultural 
 one — to visit the largest and best farms in England and 
 Scotland, and to take notes of all he saw, which might 
 interest and benefit the New Britain Agricuhural Club, 
 if their value extended no farther. With this view he 
 visited Alderman Mechi's celebrated Tiptree Hall estab- 
 lishment, Babraham, the estate of the late Jonas Webb, 
 the distinguished stock-raiser, Chrishall Grange, the 
 largest farm in England, cultivated by Samuel Jonas ; 
 also the establishment of Anthony Cruikshauk, the great 
 short-horn breeder in Scotland, and a great many smaller 
 
Autoliografhy of the Author. 53 
 
 farms. He reached John o' Groat's on the 28th of 
 September, having made a zigzag walk, sometimes 
 diverging twenty or thirty miles from a straight course, 
 in order to see different farming establishments or sec- 
 tions of country. On his return he m^de his notes and 
 observations into a large volume, entitled ''A Walk 
 from London to John o' Groat's," containing photo- 
 graphic portraits of the distinguished agriculturists 
 before mentioned. He sent copies of this work to the 
 New Britain Club for circulation among its members. 
 The book was published by Messrs. Sampson, Low, & Co., 
 London, and had a good circulation, in two editions, in 
 England. On the 1st of June, 1864, Mr. Burritt started 
 on a foot-tour from London to Land's End, to complete 
 the traverse of the island. On this journey, also, he 
 diverged in various directions from the straight line, once 
 nearly forty miles, to see the largest flock of sheep in 
 England. From Land's End he returned by the western 
 sea-coast, up the valley of the Wye, thence through 
 Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Oxfordshire, and Berk- 
 shire, back to London. During the following winter he 
 lectured in a large number of towns, between Truro, in 
 Cornwall, and Inverness, in Scotland, besides preparing 
 for the press his second book of travels — "A Walk from 
 London to Land's End and Back," which also went to 
 two editions in a few months. 
 
 In the spring of 1865 Mr. Burritt was appointed 
 Consular Agent for the United States at Birmingham, 
 without any solicitation on his part, and accepted the 
 post with some hesitation, and even reluctance, fearing it 
 would be a bar to all literary labor. But after a while 
 
54 Ten-Mznute Talks. 
 
 he found he could manage to write for the press even in 
 the office, with the clerk at the same table, and subject 
 to interruptions every half hour in the day. As it was 
 one of the duties of American consuls to collect and 
 communicate to the Department at Washington facts 
 relating to the industrial pursuits and productions of 
 their consulates, he visited the various manuf^icturing 
 towns and villages in the Birmingham district, and pub- 
 lished a large volume, called " Walks in the Black 
 Country and its Green Border Lands." This also went 
 to the second edition in a few months, and was regarded 
 the first and only popular history of Birmingham and the 
 surrounding district which had ever appeared. On receiv- 
 ing a copy for the Department, Secretary Seward wrote 
 to the author, expressing much satisfaction in regard to 
 the character and value of the book. The next year 
 Mr. Burritt wrote a book called '-' The Mission of Great 
 Sufferings ; " he also collected his previous writings, and 
 published them in several volumes. At the close of 1866 
 his most intimate English friend and co-worker, Edmund 
 Fry, died suddenly on the platform in London, while 
 addressing a public meeting on the Peace question. Mr. 
 Fry had been secretary of The League of Universal 
 Brotherhood until its amalgamation with the London 
 Peace Society, and had conducted The Board of Brother- 
 hood for many years. Mr. Burritt now assumed the 
 entire editorship of the periodical, to which he had been 
 a regular contributor while in the United States. He 
 undertook also to fill it with the productions of his own 
 pen, and the supplying of sixteen large pages monthly 
 made no slight literary task. At the end of the year he 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 55 
 
 changed the name it had borne from 1846 to ^'Fireside 
 Words," with the view of making it more of a general or 
 literary character. He devoted a department of it to the 
 young, in which he proposed to give familiar, simple, 
 " Fireside Lessons in Forty Languages," which cost him 
 much labor to prepare. In addition to these literary and 
 official labors, he accepted invitations to lecture in most 
 of the towns and villages of The Black Country, which 
 service he always performed gratuitously, for the pleasure 
 of making acquaintance with the people of the district, 
 and of helping on their institutions for intellectual im- 
 provement. 
 
 On the election of General Grant to the Presidency, 
 nearly all the United States Consuls in Great Britain 
 were removed to make room for more worthy or more 
 importunate claimants for the situations. Mr. Burritt, of 
 course, was one of the superseded ; which, however, he 
 had but little pecuniary reason to regret, for Congress 
 had cut down the annual allowance of the Birmingham 
 consulate to fifteen hundred dollars a year, although the 
 business of the office amounted to about five million 
 dollars per annum, and cost, for office rent, clerk- 
 hire, and other expenses, over one thousand dollars a year 
 to carry it on, thus leaving the Consular Agent hardly five 
 hundred dollars for his services and support. And, what 
 was a singular circumstance, the more business done for 
 the United States government, the less was the compen- 
 sation of the Agent, as his inevitable expenses were 
 larger, while his allowance was not increased. Mr. 
 Burritt had represented this circumstance to the Depart- 
 ment, who generously rectified the matter in favor of his 
 
56 Ten-Mimtte Talks. 
 
 successor, erecting the Birmingliam Agency into an 
 independent- consulate, with a full salary to the incum- 
 bent. On leaving the post, Mr. Burritt received several 
 gratifying testimonals of esteem from the inhabitants of 
 towns in the district for the interest he had manifested in 
 their institutions. The most prized of these expressions 
 of good-will was the presentation of a set of Knight's 
 Illustrated Shakespeare, comprising eight splendid vol- 
 umes, by the people of the parish of Harborne, a suburb 
 of Birmingham, where Mr. Burritt resided during the 
 four years of his consulate. The following is the address 
 presented by the vicar of the parish at a large public 
 meeting of persons belonging mostly to his congrega- 
 tion : — 
 
 *'Haeborne, May 26, 1869. 
 
 " To Elihu Burritt, Esq., Consul and Bepresentative 
 of the United States of America, Birmingham, 
 
 **Eespected and dear Sir: We have heard with the most 
 unfeigned regret that your residence amongst us is about to 
 terminate. During your four years of sojourn in the parish of 
 Harborne, we have ever found in you a kind and sincere friend, 
 and a warm and generous supporter of every good and philan- 
 thropic work. We are only expressing our hearts' true feeling 
 in saying that we very deeply deplore your anticipated departure, 
 and shall ever remember with the liveliest emotions your oft- 
 repeated acts of courteous kindness. Your aim has always been 
 to forward the interests of the parish from which you are now, 
 on the termination of your mission, about to separate. We are 
 sure the affectionate regard of the parishioners generally will 
 follow you to your new sphere of labor and usefulness ; and it 
 is our prayer and heartiest wish that your life may long be 
 spared to pursue your honorable career, so that by your writings, 
 
Autohiografhy of the Author. 57 
 
 not less than by your example, many may receive lasting good. 
 We take leave of you, dear sir, assured that you will not forget 
 Harborne and its people, on whose hearts your name will long 
 remain engraved. We ask you to accept the accompanying 
 volumes, with this numerously signed address, which we think 
 will, in your estimation, be the most assuring token of our deep 
 regard and affectionate remembrance of yourself, and respectful 
 appreciation of your character." 
 
 To this address Mr. Burritt replied as follows : — 
 
 ** Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen : I am so deeply 
 affected with surprise and other mingled emotions at this most 
 unexpected expression of your good-will, that I do not know 
 what to say, or what to say first. The language of the heart is 
 simple, and my words must be few and simple. With my heart 
 running over with grateful thoughts, I thank you for this rich 
 token of your kindness. To say, ' I thank you,' is a very short 
 and sinfiple expression; but I assure you it means not only my 
 thanks this evening, but thanks that shall last as long as my life, 
 for this precious testimonial of your regard. I say it honestly, 
 that I shall carry the memory of Harborne with me to my last 
 day on earth. The four happiest years of my life I have lived 
 here ; for all my other years I had been a kind of wanderer. I 
 had been engaged in public movements that took me about the 
 world in different directions, and left me no time to settle down 
 in any fixed residence. But here in Harborne I found the first 
 home of my own that I ever possessed, a home in which my 
 happiest memories will live as long as I can remember any 
 of the experiences of past life. Here I found a home-like 
 people and a home-like church, in which I could sit down with 
 them in social sympathy and silent communion through all the 
 quiet Sabbaths of the year, and feel myself one of the congrega- 
 tion, and as much at home with them as if I had been born in 
 Harborne, and baptized in its parish church. It has been 
 to me a rich privilege and enjoyment to say we with you iu 
 all that pertains to the best interests of the parish, just as if 
 
58 Tcn'Miniitc Talks. 
 
 I had cast in ray lot with you for the rest of my days. The 
 beautiful music of your Sabbath bells has been a song of 
 joy to me, and it will come to me in my dearest memories and 
 dreams of Harborne like a whisper from heaven. I accept this 
 splendid gift of your good-will with all the more grateful pleas- 
 ure, as a token, also, that I shall not be forgotten by you when I 
 am gone from your midst. I wish most earnestly to be remem- 
 bered by you all ; and I hope, if my life is spared, to remind you 
 occasionally that my spirit is still a resident of Harborne, though 
 in person I am far away. I should like to have all the children 
 of these schools remember that a man of my name once resided 
 here, who felt a lively interest in them, and loved to see their 
 happy faces in these rooms and at church ; and if I ever write 
 any more books for children, it will be a delight to me to send 
 the first copies to them. The little legacy of my life I shall 
 leave in the books I have written, and it will give me pleasure to 
 tliink that there will be one library in Harborne in which they 
 may all be found, by those who may wish to see what thoughts 
 I have endeavored to put forth during my residence among you 
 and before it commenced. In conclusion, this anniversary is 
 one of deep and affecting interest to me. Four years ago I came 
 into these rooms for the first time with my dear niece, now pres- 
 ent, as strangers to you all. "We had not expected to be recog- 
 nized as residents of Harborne, for we had been here only a few 
 days ; but we shall never forget the warm and generous welcome 
 you gave us on that occasion. Indeed, we were almost over- 
 whelmed with such a hearty manifestation of your kindness to 
 us. Ever since that happy evening in our experience, we have 
 lived in the atmosphere of the same kindness and good-will \ 
 and I desire on her part and on the part of her sister, as well as 
 my own, to thank you most heartily for all your kindness and 
 good wishes on our behalf. These make a good bye which they 
 will remember with grateful sensibility on their voyage across 
 the ocean, in their native land and their mother's home. Both 
 these dear companions, who have made and shared the happiness 
 of our Harborne home, will carry with them, as long as they live, 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 59 
 
 a most pleasant raemory of your esteem and good-will from the 
 first to the last day of our residence among you; and if we 
 should be spared to settle down together again in our American 
 home, we shall often talk over the happy years we have spent 
 here. So far as we can do it in thought, we shall often sit down 
 together in the same church pew we have so long occupied, and 
 fancy we are listening to the same voice from the pulpit, and to 
 the same sweet voices from the choir, and imagine we are sur- 
 rounded by the same familiar faces. We shall connect Harborne 
 with our own native village by a tie of lasting personal interest. 
 I hope the name we gave our delightful home here will be re- 
 tained by successive occupants, so that * New Britain Villa ' 
 w411 be left with you as a pledge of mutual remembrance, as a 
 kind of clasp between the village of our birth and the village of 
 our adoption. Once more I thank you from our united hearts for 
 this splendid, this precious testimonial of your regard. I would 
 thank you again and again for your kindest of words and wishes. 
 I thank you for your generous expressions towards the country 
 to which we belong, and which, to an infinitesimal degree, we have 
 represented among you. I hope the day may come when the same 
 sentiments Avill be felt and expressed between our two great 
 nations as you have cherished towards us and we towards you, and 
 which we have interchanged this evening. It will be the crown- 
 ing remembrance of my life that I have labored to bring about 
 this state of feeling between England and America. And now 
 may Heaven bless you all, both here and in the w^orld to come." 
 
 Mr. Burritt remained in Birmingham several months, 
 after leaving the consulate, in order to set on foot an 
 enterprise v^hich he thought would be of great benefit to 
 a great number of persons both in England and the 
 United States. This had for its object to lessen the 
 hazards of emigrants to America, by . obtaining homes 
 or employment for them there before they left England, 
 to which they might go direct, and not drift about and 
 
6o Ten'Mimttc Talks, 
 
 lose time and money in seeking situations after their 
 arrival. For this purpose he established an International 
 Land and Labor Agency in Birmingham, which so com- 
 mended itself to the confidence of the public in both 
 countries, that the newspapers in each gave it gratuitous- 
 ly all the publicity it needed to make its spirit, principles, 
 and objects widely known and approved. In less than 
 three months after its first opening, more than a thou- 
 sand farms, from Maine to California, were committed 
 to it for sale to English purchasers, varying from five 
 hundred dollars to fifty thousand dollars ; and some of 
 the first sold to such purchasers were farms in New Eng- 
 land. As the Agency was founded on a philanthropic 
 basis, and had no bias or interest in one section above 
 another, the information it supplied, in regard to the 
 climate, soil, productions, advantages and drawbacks, of 
 different states was regarded as very trustworthy and 
 correct ; and soon young English farmers, and men of 
 other occupations, acted upon it, and went out, under the 
 auspices of the Agency, to New England, the Middle 
 States, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and other 
 parts of the country. The Agency also undertook to 
 supply American families with English servant girls, who 
 soon came into great request in different sections of the 
 Union ; it also found employment there for English farm 
 laborers and men of all occupations. While laboring to 
 open and establish this Agency, Mr. Burritt took a lively 
 and practical interest in a new literary enterprise started at 
 the same time in Birmingham. This was " The Midland 
 Illustrated News,'* which, to a certain degree, was to 
 compete with the '' London Illustrated News," with its 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 6i 
 
 vast means and circulation. He contributed a paper to 
 the new periodical nearly every week for many months, 
 out of desire to see it succeed as a Birmingham enter- 
 prise and interest. 
 
 When Mr. Burritt settled down to four years' residence 
 in Birmingham, he had been continuously engaged for 
 twenty years in labors connected with the Anti-Slavery, 
 Peace, Ocean Penny Postage, Compensated Emancipa- 
 tion, and other reformatory movements. Through all 
 this period he had totally abstracted himself from those 
 literary pursuits and recreations of which he had become 
 so fond before he was led into the field of philanthropic 
 effort by the incident already noticed. For it had been 
 impossible for him to pursue these favorite studies under 
 the strain of mental labor and excitement which these 
 enterprises involved. So, when the official appointment 
 he accepted had withdrawn him to a kind of settled 
 private life, and given him time and opportunity to re- 
 vive the studies he had so long suspended, he found that 
 he had dropped out of his memory six different alpha- 
 bets, to say nothing of the words and literature of the 
 languages to which they belonged. But he was very 
 glad to find that these were not entirely lost, but that he 
 was able to recover them easily, and to pursue the old 
 course of study with quickened relish and ability. It 
 had been the dream of his later life to spend a year in 
 old Oxford, to breathe its classic atmosphere and to en- 
 joy its venerable associations, to live and move and have 
 a temporary being in the culture of its centuries of learn- 
 ing. But, instead of a year, he w^as only able to spend 
 six weeks in that grand old city of palaced learning ; 
 
62 Tc7i' Minute Talks. 
 
 still, in this short space he realized all he antici- 
 pated in regard to its. incomparable privileges, elevating 
 companionships, student and social life. The acquaint- 
 ance he made here with Max Miiller, Dr. Bosworth, 
 Thorold Rogers, and other professors and dignitaries of 
 the University, was one of the most enjoyable and profit- 
 able acquisitions of his life. With a strong desire to 
 connect some literary work with his short residence in 
 Oxford as its birth and dating place, he reconstructed the 
 Psalms of David into twelve different lines of reflec- 
 tion, or twelve Meditations followed by twelve Prayers, 
 such as the meditations would naturally suggest. This 
 little devotional work, dated at Oxford, was published 
 by Samuel Bagster & Sons, London, and by Anson D. 
 Randolph & Co., New York. 
 
 Charles Dickens died suddenly a few days before Mr. 
 Burritt returned to America ; and feeling that the spon- 
 taneous and instantaneous sentiment of the world at such 
 a death would be the best monument that could be erected 
 to the great author, he sent a note to the London Times, 
 proposing to collect in a volume the articles that should ex- 
 press that sentiment in the journals and other periodicals 
 of different countries, and requesting their publishers to 
 send him copies for this purpose. A great number came 
 to him from all parts of the world, in all the languages 
 of Christendom. From these he collected ample matter 
 for a large volume, translating much of it from the 
 French, German, Italian, Danish, Dutch, and Swedish 
 languages. Though the best illustration of beautiful 
 diction, noble and generous sentiment, which a hundred 
 eminent writers and clergymen of different countries 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 63 
 
 could produce, none of the publishers of Dickens's works, 
 who had made so much money out of their editions, were 
 willing to bring out this memorial volume, lest it might 
 not pay them the usual profit on their business specula- 
 tions. Still, Mr. Burritt, who had never asked or ex- 
 pected any pecuniary compensation for this work, never 
 regretted having performed it ; for it gave him the satis- 
 faction of feeling that no other living man had so read 
 the mind of the civilized world on the life and charac- 
 ter of Charles Dickens, as he had done in these '' Voices 
 of the Nations " over his grave. The " Household 
 Monument," which he had hoped to see erected in hun- 
 dreds of homes of the admirers of the distinguished 
 author on both sides of the Atlantic, is now preserved 
 and appreciated only in his own, and he deems it worth 
 all the labor he bestowed upon it as such a personal pos- 
 session. 
 
 Mr. Burritt returned to America in 1870, after a so- 
 journ of over seven years in England, during which time 
 he had brought out nearly a dozen volumes in that coun- 
 try on different subjects. It was a delight for him to be 
 again at home in his native town, among kith and kin, 
 the friends and neighbors of his youth, after having spent 
 the most part of twenty-five years in his four different 
 campaigns of labor abroad. He received their old kind 
 welcome from the people of New Britain, who had cut 
 his name broad and deep in the frontlet of an elegant 
 and massive school building in process of construction, 
 on his arrival. He now entered upon the enjoyment of 
 a quiet literary life, while taking part in all the pleasant 
 duties of a citizen of his native town. The compilation 
 
64 Ten-Mimite Talks. 
 
 of David's Psalms iuto Meditations aud Prayers had 
 interested him much in the study of the Scriptures, and 
 he spent several months in preparing a volume of " Sub- 
 ject-Readings " from the Bible, comprising all it said on 
 each of the subjects selected, as Faith, Plope, Prayer, 
 Patience, Love, Peace, Temperance, Industry, &c. In 
 doing this, he often turned over all the leaves of the Bi- 
 ble, from Genesis to Revelation, to find a verse or refer- 
 ence bearing on the subject, not willing to trust to any 
 Concordance. This compilation is still unpublished, and 
 if it should never be published, the labor performed on 
 it will well repay him in the knowledge of the Scriptures 
 he acquired in thus searching them through and through 
 in the work. He next compiled a little volume entitled 
 '' The Children of the Bible," containing all the Old and 
 New Testaments say of and to children, by precept and 
 example. Having accomplished these little works of 
 compilation, he sat down to a subject which had much 
 occupied his reflections for thirty years, and wrote a 
 volume in an assumed style, which must always conceal 
 its authorship, and on one of the most serious subjects that 
 can exercise a human mind. This was brought out in 
 London, in 1872, and has elicited many notices in Eng- 
 land and America, without suggesting any clue to the 
 author, who sent it out into the religious world to stand 
 or fall on its own intrinsic merits, without the influence 
 of a name for or against it. 
 
 Having finished these literary undertakings, Mr. Bur- 
 ritt now entered upon a work which he had had in his mind 
 ever since he used to visit the Antiquarian Library at 
 Worcester, in 1838. He had thought that the books 
 
Autohiografhy of the AtttJior. 65 
 
 professedly written for youDg students, in the languages, 
 were written for their teachers instead, who were to act 
 as interpreters between the author and learner, as if he 
 did not like to have a common pupil come directly be- 
 tween the w^ind and his dignity as an erudite grammarian. 
 Especially in the study of Sanskrit, he was impressed 
 with the lack of simplified expositions of the peculiari- 
 ties of that language, which are so difficult for beginners, 
 of any age, to master. Having encountered these pecu- 
 liar difficulties, which bar the entrance into that and other 
 Oriental languages, he sat down to compile just such a 
 book as he most needed in studying them. This volume 
 is to be entitled " Social Walks and Talks with Young 
 Students among the Languages." The first of the series 
 embraces simplified grammars and reading exercises in 
 Sanskrit, Hindustanee, Persian, and Turkish, put in such 
 plain and easy forms of exposition as will assist the young 
 beginner over the threshold of those languages with less 
 effort and delay than he would otherwise be subjected 
 to. Should this volume be published, it will be the 
 first rudimental work on these languages ever issued in 
 America. 
 
 While engaged in this philological work, the consum- 
 mation of the Washington Treaty opened up a new page 
 and promise for the cause of organized and universal 
 peace. It was unlike any other treaty between two na- 
 tions, for it not only arranged for a High Court of Ar- 
 bitration for the settlement of a very aggravated difficul- 
 ty between the United States and Great Britain, but it 
 preceded that tribunal wdth a kind of preliminary Con- 
 gress at Washington, which developed new rules for the 
 5 
 
66 Ten-AIinute Talks, 
 
 guidance of the arbitrators, and supplied a verj im- 
 portant part of an international code. Thus the con- 
 vention of the High Joint Commissioners at Washing- 
 ton, and the Tribunal of Arbitration at Geneva, were, by 
 far, the nearest approximation to that Congress and High 
 Court of Nations which the friends of Peace had been 
 pressing upon the governments and peoples of Christen- 
 dom for forty years. Mr. Burritt, for more than twenty- 
 five of this period, had labored to impress this prop- 
 osition upon the public mind, both in America and 
 Europe. At the Peace Congresses at Brussels, Paris, 
 Frankfort, and London, he had made this proposition, 
 first developed by William Ladd, the sole subject of his 
 speeches. The arrangement for settling the " Alabama 
 difficulty" adopted and carried out this long-advocated 
 scheme to a most promising extent and success. The 
 friends of Peace in America and England felt that a 
 golden opportunity now presented itself for advancing 
 their great cause to a stage which had so long occupied 
 their thoughts and hopes. A series of public meetings 
 in all the large cities, beginniftg at Boston and ending at 
 Washington, was set on foot by the American Peace 
 Society. Mr. Burritt joined heartily with Rev. J. B. 
 Miles, Secretary of that society, in attending these meet- 
 ings, and spoke at over thirty of them, bearing all his 
 own expenses in the journeys they involved. 
 
 These meetings were designed to impress upon the pub- 
 lic mind the vast importance of the Washington Treaty, 
 and the new rules of International Law, and the High 
 Court of Arbitration it had provided, not only for the set- 
 tlement of the Alabama difficulty, but for the peaceful 
 
Autobiography of the Author. 67 
 
 solution of all similar questions of controversy between 
 nations. Mr, Burritt employed his pen as devotedly as 
 his tongue in behalf of this " new departure ; " and when 
 the fictitious and insincerely tentative '' consequential 
 claims " were foisted into '' our case," he denounced 
 them in the severest language that the leading public 
 journals would admit. As soon as the Geneva Tribunal 
 had made its award, the American Peace Society deter- 
 mined to do what it could to convene a great Interna- 
 tional Congress, in America or Europe, for the purpose 
 of putting the top-stone to that temple of peace which 
 now seemed ready for such a crowning. A call or note 
 of invitation to such a congress was issued, signed by 
 Ex-President Woolsey, Peverdy Johnson, and a long list 
 of eminent men. It was arranged that Mr. Burritt 
 should accompany Mr. Miles to Europe, to confer with 
 leading minds there on the subject, and secure their pres- 
 ence and co-operation at the proposed congress ; but, in 
 consequence of an injury received on a railroad journey 
 just before the time fixed for their departure, he was 
 unable to go on the mission, and Mr. Miles went alone, 
 and met with remarkable success. Before he left, at a 
 full consultation/Mr. Burritt urged a variation from the 
 old Peace Congresses, held twenty years before in Europe. 
 He proposed that the one now to be convened should 
 consist of two entirely distinct bodies, meeting at differ- 
 ent halls in the same city ; that one should be a senate of 
 jurists, consisting of forty or fifty of the most eminent 
 authorities and writers on international law in Christen- 
 dom ; that their express work should be to review all the 
 precedents and authorities extant, add, construct, and 
 
68 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 reconstruct, and elaborate, clause by clause, an Interna- 
 tional Code, clothed with all the moral force which their 
 individual, representative, and collective character could 
 give to it, and which no government in Christendom 
 would be likely to ignore or reject. Then the second 
 body should be a great popular assembly, perhaps num- 
 bering a thousand, of all professions, — philanthropists, 
 economists, ministers, editors, &c., — who should discuss 
 every aspect, point, and principle embraced in the condi- 
 tion and policy of organized and permanent peace. Mr. 
 Miles submitted this proposition to the distinguished men 
 whom he conferred with in Europe, who expressed their 
 approbation of it, as the best way for obtaining that 
 practical result from the congress which would be of such 
 value to all nations. 
 
 The foregoing sketch is given to the public to forestall 
 and prevent any posthumous exaggerations or mistakes 
 wdiich might otherwise appear in some future biography, 
 should the life here referred to be deemed worthy of a 
 notice at its close. All its principal facts and features 
 are here given in the simplest narrative, and if they 
 should be of any worth to any young man setting out in 
 life under similar circumstances, the author will not have 
 lived in vain. 
 
INCIDENTS AND OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 69 
 
BREATHING A LIVING SOUL INTO DEAD 
 WORDS. 
 
 ^' Can these dry bones live?" asked the seer of old, 
 on seeing a valley strewn with them. '' Can these dry 
 bones live? Did they ever live?^' many a reader has 
 asked of himself, on looking over a book-valley filled 
 with lifeless, disjointed words. Yes, many sentences 
 of commonplace words and thin and weak ideas, which, 
 in cold, inanimate type, seem dead to the reader, have 
 thrilled and stirred hundreds to the deepest emotion 
 w^hen listening to them as they fell burning from the 
 tongue. Words are the veins, but not the vital fluid, of 
 mental life. As in the case of the dry bones the prophet 
 saw, a living spirit must pass over and through them 
 before they glow, and breathe, and throb with life. 
 Spoken words are often delivered upon the mind of the 
 listener with a temporary force and impression which the 
 written cannot produce upon the reader. In the first 
 place, listening to a public speaker is a congregate exer- 
 cise, and he can play upon the sympathy of a hundred 
 minds drinking in the same thoughts at the same moment. 
 Even if they were all blind, and could not see each other's 
 faces as they listened, they would be conscious of the tide 
 of feeling that the speaker was raising in the invisible 
 assembly. Thus he has a peculiar advantage over the 
 writer in this simple sentiment of sympathy in a compact 
 
 71 
 
72 • Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 congregation of hearers ; for, in ninety-nine cases in a 
 hundred, the author's words fall upon the mind of an 
 isolated reader without any accessory charm or force 
 that the tongue can give or ear receive. Then, if the 
 preach eir or orator has an impressive or well-modulated 
 voice, he can give to his words a power which type can- 
 not reproduce, or save from evanescence. But the great, 
 capital advantage he has over the writer, though transient, 
 is in the projectile force of feeling he can throw into his 
 words through his voice, eyes, face, and action. Many 
 a speaker, by the very mesmerism of his own heart- 
 power, ha,s raised dead words from the ground and made 
 them electrify a great audience with their startling life. 
 I have seen this effect produced under a great variety of 
 circumstances, and with the simplest words. I once 
 attended a negro church service in Virginia, where a 
 large chapel was filled with slaves of every age. One of 
 their fellow-members had died the week before, and a 
 colored brother on the platform was " improving the 
 occasion." He had gradually brought the congregation 
 to a certain level of emotion by his simple and pathetic 
 tribute of affectionate regard for the deceased. When 
 he had raised them to a sympathetic point, from which 
 they would have easily subsided to a calmer feeling with- 
 out new explosive force on his part, he turned himself 
 half round from the audience and uttered the simple 
 words — "Jimmy lies dere in he grabe." Could those 
 maimed words live ? a classical scholar might ask. Yes, 
 they did live, with a vitality and power that might well have 
 astonished the prophet who saw the dry bones stir with 
 animation. They filled the walls of the house as with a 
 
Incidents and Observations, 73 
 
 mighty rushing wind of human emotion, with sobs of 
 sympathy and ejaculations of intense feeling. Half the 
 audience rose to their feet, and several men and women 
 waved their arms, with uprolled eyes, as if swimming up 
 to heaven in their ecstasy. " Jimmy lies dere in he 
 grabe ! " were the simple words through which he pro- 
 duced this effect. They were the veins through which he 
 transfused three hundred human hearts with the vital 
 i3uid of the feeling which filled his own to this passionate 
 outburst. How cold they look in type ! Who would 
 read them with any interest above the general sentiment 
 which the bare statement is calculated to inspire ? They 
 come to the reader's mind in their bald and isolated 
 meaning, abstracted from every accessory or surrounding 
 circumstance that affected their utterance. No printed 
 words could convey an idea of that outburst of feeling 
 which forced itself into that simple exclamation, of the 
 tremor of his voice, of the expression of his countenance, 
 as the white tears ran down his black face. He stepped 
 to the left edge of the platform as he half turned from 
 the audience. He bent his form and placed a hatid on 
 each knee ; he stretched out his neck as if to look over 
 the sharp edge of the grave ; for a silent moment he 
 trembled from head to foot, in every joint and in every 
 hair of his head ; then, in a voice tremulous with a melt- 
 ing pathos, as if his tears were dropping upon the dead 
 face of their departed friend, he sobbed out, " Jimmy 
 lies dere in he grabe ! " Never did I hear before six 
 words uttered with such a projectile force of feeling, or 
 that produced such an effect upon an audience. 
 
 Another instance I will notice to illustrate the effect 
 
74 Ten-Mimite Talks. 
 
 which mere heart-power in the speaker may give, even 
 to words that may have no intellectual meaning to an 
 audience. The Peace Congress in Paris, in 1849, was 
 perhaps the first public meeting in France in which 
 French, English, Americans, Germans, Spaniards, and 
 Italians ever assembled together to discuss principles and 
 topics in which they felt a common interest. Those of 
 us especially who had labored for months to bring about 
 this great re-union were much exercised with doubt as 
 to the result of assembling within the same walls, and on 
 the same platform, hearers and speakers who did not 
 understand each other's language. This doubt was in- 
 creased by the apprehension of one or two French 
 members of the Committee of Arrangements, that many 
 of their countrymen, after listening for a few minutes to 
 an English speech they could not understand, would 
 arise and leave the house out of sheer weariness of mind. 
 Richard Cobden was the only English-speaking member 
 who could address the assembly in French. So, w^ien 
 our first orator arose to speak, we watched from the 
 platform the faces of the French auditors with lively 
 concern. It was the Rev. John Burnet, of London, a 
 man of much genius and power as a speaker, with a flow 
 and a glow of rich Irish wit and . accent, which always 
 made him a great favorite at home. He had not pro- 
 ceeded a minute before we could perceive the action of 
 the subtile force of sympathy upon the French portion 
 of the assembly. Although not one in ten could under- 
 stand the meaning of his words in print, they came to 
 them from his lips with a force of feeliog that affected 
 them deeply. And when, in the middle of his speech, 
 
Incidents and Observations. 75 
 
 he brought out a noble sentiment towards their nation, 
 the whole English and American portion of the audience 
 arose and gave three great cheers, that made the roof 
 tremble. From that moment to the end of the last 
 session the electric current of sympathy between speaker 
 and hearer was complete, even without intelligible lan- 
 guage as a conductor. On the second day, when an 
 eloquent, impassioned English popular orator was in his 
 peroration, he threw a fervor and force of feeling into a 
 climax sentence which perfectly electrified the French 
 audience. The whole gallery of them, at a great distance 
 from the platform, arose, and scores of ladies waved 
 their handkerchiefs in the enthusiasm of their delight 
 and admiration, though probably not one in twenty could 
 understand a v/ord of English. I was sitting by the side 
 of a French member of the Committee on the platform, 
 whom I had met from day to day, and knew to be unable 
 to read or understand English. He was swaying and 
 tremulous with emotion, and the tears were coursing 
 down his cheeks '' like rain-drops from eaves of reeds." 
 I asked him, in a whisper of surprise, if he understood 
 the speaker. " Non, mais je le comprends ici" (''No, 
 but I understand him here '^ ), said he, laying his hand 
 upon his heart. Here was a striking illustration of the 
 heart-power that may be thrown into common words, for 
 those that produced this wonderful effect would not move 
 any thoughtful reader when cold and laid out in type. 
 
 Still, notwithstanding the advantage the orator or 
 speaker possesses in being able to breathe a living soul 
 into dry words, to give them, as it were, his own eyes, 
 face, voice, and action, the writer often wields a higher 
 
76 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 power, because it is everlasting and unchanging. Men 
 have written, w^ho, from their lightning-tipped pens, have 
 thrown into a few simple words a current of electric 
 feeling which has shot through forty centuries and a 
 hundred human generations, thrilling the sympathies of 
 men of almost every race, tongue, and age. There is the 
 cry of tender and manly distress which Esau uttered at 
 the knees of his old blind father, when he lifted up his 
 voice and wept, and said, in broken articulation, " Bless 
 me also, G my father ! " All the intervening centuries, 
 and all the moral mutations affecting humanity, have not 
 attenuated the pulse of those words. Whoever wrote 
 them threw into them a projectile force of feeling that 
 will thrill the last reader that peruses them on earth. 
 Judah's plea for Benjamin before Joseph, in Egypt, 
 young David's w^ords to Saul on going forth to meet 
 Goliah, and his lament over Absalom, have an in- 
 breathed life and power wiiich will last as long as human 
 language. 
 
 Even what may be called artificial feeling has given 
 written words a power that has moved millions for more 
 than two thousand years. All the theatres built and filled 
 in Greece, Rome, France, England, and America, origi- 
 nated in this inbreathing power, w^hich actors, trained 
 high in emotional education, could throw into sentences 
 penned by some quiet w^riter, perhaps, in his garret or 
 kitchen. How these great tragedians have walked 
 through the book-valleys of dry words and breathed 
 them into thrilling life ! '' What is he to Hecuba, or 
 Hecuba to him ? " What ? why all that Hecuba was to 
 herself in the wildest storm-bursts of her grief. His 
 
Incidents and Observations, 77 
 
 tears, though counterfeit, were as wet as hers. His 
 heart played the bitter discords of woe upon its torn or 
 twisted strings as sadly as hers. His voice broke with 
 the sobbing cadences of sorrow as touchingly as hers. 
 His face and form quivered with all the agonies of her 
 despair. If she had stood up before the audience in all 
 the affecting personality of her experience, she could not 
 have acted out her distress and grief with more life and 
 power. 
 
 It is true these trained actors of feeling avail them- 
 selves of other accessories than their emotional or elocu- 
 tionary faculties. They enhance the force and effect of 
 their impersonations by various kinds of scenic auxiliaries 
 to give them all the vividness of real life. But many of 
 th»m, without any of the trappings of the stage, have 
 breathed a power into simple and familiar v>^ords which 
 has made the hearts of listeners almost stand still in the 
 intensity of their sympathy. I conclude with one illus- 
 tration of this faculty. 
 
 The Lord's Prayer contains sixty-five simple words, 
 and no other threescore-and-five have ever been togetlier 
 on so many human lips. For a thousand years they 
 have been the household, the cradle words of Christen- 
 dom. Children innumerable, in both hemispheres, have 
 been taught to say them in their first lessons in articulate 
 speech. They have been the prayer of all ages and con- 
 ditions ; uttered by mitred bishops in grand cathedrals, 
 and lisped by poor men's children, v^^ith closed eyes, in 
 cots of straw at night. The feet of forty generations, 
 as it were, have passed over them, until, to some indiffer- 
 ent minds, their life may seem to have been trodden out 
 
78 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 of them. Indeed, one often hears them from the pulpit 
 as if they were worn out by repetition. A few pre- 
 tentiously-educated minds may even ask their secret 
 thoughts, " Can these dry words liye? " Yes, they have 
 been made to live with overpowering vitality. 
 
 Edwin Booth, the celebrated tragedian, w^as a man 
 who threw into his impersonations an amount of heart 
 and soul which his originals could scarcely have equalled. 
 He did Richard III. to the life and more. He had made 
 human passions, emotions, and experiences his life's 
 study. He could not only act, hwt fed rage, love, despair, 
 hate, ambition, fury, hope, and revenge with a depth and 
 force that half amazed his auditors. lie could transmute 
 himself into the hero of his impersonation, and he could 
 breathe a power into other men's written words wMch 
 perhaps was never surpassed. And, what is rather re- 
 markable, when he was inclined to give illustrations of 
 this faculty to private circles of friends, he nearly always 
 selected some passages from Job, David, or Isaiah, or 
 other holy men of old. When an aspiring young pro- 
 fessor of Harvard University went to him by night to 
 ask a little advice or instruction in qualifying himself for 
 an orator, the veteran tragedian opened the Bible and 
 read a few verses from Isaiah in a way that made the 
 Cambridge scholar tremble with awe, as if the prophet 
 had risen from the dead and were uttering his sublime 
 visions in liis ears. He was then residing in Baltimore, 
 and a pious, urbane old gentleman of the city, hearing 
 of his wonderful power of elocution, one day invited 
 him to dinner ; although strongly deprecating the stage 
 and all theatrical performances. A large company sat 
 
Incidents and Observations. 79 
 
 down to the table, and on returning to the drawing-room, 
 one of them requested Booth, as a special favor to them 
 all, to repeat the Lord's Prayer. He signified his willing- 
 ness to gratify them, and all eyes Avere fixed upon him. 
 He slowly and reverentially arose from his chair, trem- 
 bling wnth the burden of two great conceptions. He had 
 to realize the character, attributes, and presence of the 
 Almighty Being he was to address. He was to trans- 
 form himself into a poor, sinning, stumbling, benighted, 
 needy suppliant, offering homage, asking bread, pardon, 
 light, and guidance. Says one of the company present, 
 " It was wonderful to watch the play of emotions that 
 convulsed his countenance. He became deathly pale, and 
 his eyes, turned tremblingly upwards, Avere w^et with 
 tears. As yet he had not spoken. The silence could be 
 felt ; it had become absolutely painful, until at last the 
 spell was broken as if by an electric shock, as his rich- 
 toned voice, from white lips, syllabled forth ' Our Father 
 which art in heaven,' &c., with a pathos and fervid 
 solemnity that thrilled all hearts. He finished ; the 
 silence continued ; not a voice was heard nor a muscle 
 moved in his rapt audience, until, from a remote corner 
 of the room, a subdued sob was heard, and the old gen- 
 tleman (the host) stepped forvv^ard, with streaming eyes 
 and tottering frame, and seized Booth by the hand. 
 ' Sir,' said he, in broken accents, ' you have afforded me 
 a pleasure for which my whole future life will feel grate- 
 ful. I am an old man, and every day from boyhood to 
 the present time I thought I had repeated the Lord's 
 Prayer ; but I never heard it before, never ! ' ' You are 
 right,' replied Booth : ' to read that prayer as it should 
 
8o Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 be read caused me the severest study and labor for thirty- 
 years, and I am far from being satisfied with my render- 
 ing of that wonderful production. Hardly one person in 
 ten thousand comprehends how much beauty, tenderness, 
 and grandeur can be condensed in a space so small, and 
 in words so simple. That prayer itself sufficiently 
 illustrates the truth of the Bible, and stamps upon it the 
 seal of divinity.' So great was the effect produced," 
 says our informant, " that conversation was sustained 
 but a short time longer, in subdued monosyllables, and 
 almost entirely ceased ; and soon after, at an early hour, 
 the company broke up and retired to their several homes, 
 with sad faces and full hearts." 
 
 " Can these words live?" Let any man who thinks, 
 and almost says, that they have lost their life by repeti- 
 tion, ask any one of the company that listened to Edwin 
 Booth on that evening to say what is his opinion on the 
 question. But some conscientious persons may possibly 
 object that the effect he produced was dramatic ; that he 
 only gave to the words the force of artificial or acted 
 feeling. Suppose this be granted : if artificial or counter- 
 feit feeling could produce such effect, what impression 
 ought not genuine, emotion in the utterance of that simple 
 and beautiful prayer to produce on an audience ? 
 
Incidents and Cbservations. Si 
 
 THE GPvEAT CHESHIRE POLITICAL CHEESE. 
 
 How few Eaglish or American readers caD see or hear 
 the name Cheshire^ without thinking of the rich and 
 golden cheese associated with it ! The mind, at the mere 
 mention of the word, darts off to those great doubloons 
 of the dairy which so distinguish the famous pastoral 
 county of England. So indissoluble is the association, 
 that the eldest daughter of the county in America, 
 Cheshire in Connecticut, a little Puritan town, felt, in 
 taking and wearing the name, that, next to the religious 
 faith of its English mother, it ought to do honor to her 
 reputation as a cheese-making community. And this it 
 did. The Connecticut Cheshire was hardly a dozen 
 years old when it became noted as a dairy town, and 
 turned out cheeses which would have done credit to Old 
 England's Cheshire. Nor was this all, nor the best. So 
 fully and faithfully did the early settlers of the place 
 cherish this relationship and association, that when a 
 small colony of them pushed their way up into the hilly 
 interior of Massachusetts, they not only called the town 
 they planted and peopled there Cheshire, but they made 
 it more famous still for cheese. One, the joint produc- 
 tion of all the dairies in the town, was the greatest 
 prodigy, probably, that was ever recorded in the history 
 of milk and its manufacture ; especially taking the motive 
 into consideration. 
 
 Early in the present century, to use a popular saying, 
 '' politics ran high " in America. The nation was hardly 
 6 
 
82 Tcn-Mimite Talks 
 
 a dozen years old as an independent state. Its most 
 vital institutions were in process of erection. There was 
 a sharp division of opinion between the chief architects. 
 One set were for building all the states into a rigid quad- 
 rangle, with the national capitol in the centre overshadow- 
 insr and dominatino^ them all. These w^ere the " Federal- 
 ists." The JefFersonian builders were for lowering the 
 capitol by a story, and for giving the individual states 
 more local independence and more unrestricted sunlight 
 of liberty. These were called "Democrats;" and the 
 contest between the two parties waxed exceedingly fierce. 
 From the first a religious element was thrown into it, 
 and made it glow with the hottest combustion of theolo- 
 gical odium. Thomas Jefferson, the great democratic 
 leader, was charged with being an infidel of the French 
 revolutionary school. Never did the '' No Popery " 
 tocsin stir a Protestant community to deeper emotion 
 than did this w^ar-cry against democrats and democracy 
 in the New England States. The Puritan pulpits thun- 
 dered against them and their chief with all the large 
 liberty of pulpit thunderbolts. Only elect Thomas 
 Jefferson President of the United States, and there 
 would be an auto-da-fe of all their Bibles, hymn-books, 
 and sermons ; the altars of New England would be de- 
 molished, and all their religious institutions would be 
 swept away by an inrushing and irresistible flood of 
 French infidelity. 
 
 In the little town of Cheshire, nestling among the 
 middle hills of Massachusetts, a counter voice of great 
 power was lifted from its pulpit against this flood of 
 obloquy and denunciation that rolled and roared against 
 
Incidents and Observations. 83 
 
 Jefferson and democracy. One of the most remarkable 
 men that ever filled a pulpit stood up ia this, and beat 
 back the fierce onset of this odiam against the great 
 political chief he honored with unbounded trust and 
 admiration. This was Elder John Leland, one of the 
 most extraordinary preachers produced by those stirring 
 times. He was a plain, blunt man, of keen common 
 sense, trained for action by a combination of extraordi- 
 nary circumstances to that extent, that he could hardly 
 be called a self-made man. His whole reading and 
 thinking were concentrated upon two great books — the 
 Bible and Human Nature. He knew by heart every 
 chapter and verse of these two vital volumes of instruc- 
 tion. The rude and rough energy of his mind, which 
 his religious faith did not soften, made him a kind of 
 Boanerges in the New England village in which he was 
 born. But these characteristics assumed a more pro- 
 nounced type under the peculiar discipline to Avhich he 
 was subsequently subjected. He commenced preaching 
 in Virginia while still a very young man ; and it was to 
 him the pursuit of usefulness under difficulties, which 
 few ministers in civilized, and few missionaries in un- 
 civilized countries, ever met and overcame. Society in 
 Virginia and the other slave states at the tim.e was 
 morally in a kind of inchoate form, and " the poor 
 whites " were more ignorant and demoralized than at a 
 later period of their condition. To gather up a congre- 
 gation of such a motley character, especially in the rural 
 and thinly-settled districts, and to fix their attention upon" 
 religious truth or serious subjects of reflection, was a most 
 arduous undertaking, At first, the young men, he said, 
 
84 Ten-AIinute Talks. 
 
 would gather together in the large, square pews in the 
 corners of the church and commence playing cards, 
 being screened from general observation by the high, 
 wooden boarding of their pews. To get their ears he 
 had to resort to very eccentric anecdotes and illustrations, 
 in w^hich he managed to convey some religious instruc- 
 tion. What was at first a necessity became at last a 
 habit ; and his pulpit stories, and his odd, but impres- 
 sive manner of telling them, soon attracted large congre- 
 gations, and made him famous as a preacher throughout 
 the state. He was a very sedate man, and his grave 
 countenance never relaxed or changed expression when 
 he was relating anecdotes that melted his audience into 
 tears, or half convulsed them with suppressed laughter. 
 Still he never fell into such wild oddities of manner or 
 matter as distinguished the unique and inapproachable 
 Lorenzo Dow ; but, with all his eccentricities, he main- 
 tained to the last a consistent Christian character and 
 deportment. Indeed, he said, towards the close of his 
 life, that he never smiled but once in the pulpit, and the 
 occasion was enough to justify a slight departure from 
 the rigid rule of gravity. He was preaching on a very 
 warm Sabbath in Virginia. The church was situated on 
 a large green, and the great door, which was directly 
 opposite the pulpit, was thrown wide open to admit the 
 air. " I saw," said he, '' a man come staggering along 
 and take a seat on the steps directly in front of me. Pie 
 soon fell asleep, and commenced nodding. A large goat 
 that was feeding on the green took it for a challenge, drew 
 back, and prepared himself; then, coming up with great 
 force, be struck the poor man in the head and knocked him 
 
Incidents and Observations, 85 
 
 almost into the church. I then had to stop, for it broke 
 the thread of my argument, and I could but smile, while 
 I was recovering my equilibrium, and the poor drunkard 
 was scrambling out of the way of his antagonist." Sure- 
 ly few clergymen could have blamed him for that tem- 
 porary smile under the circumstances. 
 
 Such was the preacher who made intimate acquaint- 
 ance with Thomas Jefferson while lie was in Virginia. 
 The great father of American democracy reciprocated 
 the elder s esteem, and unfolded to him his public life, 
 and all the principles and opinions on which he sought to 
 base the structure and institutions of the young republic. 
 Leland returned to New England, and settled down as 
 pastor for life in Cheshire, Massachusetts. Soon after 
 he commenced his ministry there, the country was shaken 
 from north to south, and east to west, with the most vehe- 
 ment agitation that it has ever experienced. Jeffersonian 
 Democracy or Ilamiltonian Federalism was the question 
 and issue depending upon the struggle. Leland threw him- 
 self into it with all the energy of his political convictions 
 and mental life. He gave the Federal preachers a Roland 
 for their Oliver, and more too. His pulpit shook with the 
 thunder of his rough and ready eloquence. Never did a 
 mesmerist so shape and control the will of a subject as he 
 did the mind of his whole congregation and parish. The 
 influence of his opinions and eloquence reached far out be- 
 yond the limits of the town, and impressed thousands. 
 Cheshire, to a man, followed his lead and followed his 
 convictions long after he ceased to lead or live. For 
 several generations they were born and they died Demo- 
 crats of the Jeffersonian school. No presidential elec- 
 
86 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 tion in America, before or since, ever evoked or repre- 
 sented more antagonism. Tiie religious element was the 
 most irrepressible and implacable of them all. The 
 Avhole religious community, in New England especially, 
 had recoiled from the principles and sentiments of the 
 French revolutionists. Most of the New England minis- 
 ters led, or sought to lead, their congregations against the 
 enemy that was coming in like a flood. If the term may 
 be allowed, they sandwiched the name of Jefferson be- 
 tween Voltaire and Tom Paine. Democrats and infidels 
 became equal and interchangeable terms of opprobrium. 
 But the Puritan politicians were outvoted, and Thomas 
 Jefferson was elected President of the United States by 
 a large and most jubilant majority. 
 
 No man had done more to bring about this result 
 than Elder John Lelaud, of the little hill town of Chesh- 
 ire, in Massachusetts. Besides influencing thousands 
 of outsiders in the same direction, he had brouglit up his 
 whole congregation and parish to vote for the father of 
 American Democracy. He now resolved to set the seal 
 of Cheshire to the election in a way to make the nation 
 know there was such a town in the Republican Israel. He 
 had only to propose the method to command the unani- 
 mous approbation and indorsement of his people. And 
 he did propose it from the pulpit to a full congregation 
 on the Sabbath. With a few earnest words he invited 
 every man and woman who owned a cow, to bring every 
 quart of milk given on a certain day, or all the curd it 
 would make, to a great cider-mill belonging to their brave 
 townsman, Captain John Brown, who was the first man 
 to detect and denounce the treachery of Benedict Arnold, 
 
Incidents and Observations, 87 
 
 in the IlevolutioD. No Federal cow was allowed to con- 
 tribute a drop of milk to the offering, lest it should leaven 
 the whole lump with a distateful savor. It was the most 
 glorious day the sun ever shone upon before or since in 
 Cheshire. Its brightest beams seemed to bless the day's 
 work. With their best Sunday clothes, under their white 
 tow frocks, came the men and boys of the town, down from 
 the hills and up from the valleys, with their contingents to 
 the great ofFeriug in pails and tubs. Mothers, wives, and 
 all the rosy maidens of those rural homes, came in their 
 white aprons and best calico dresses, to the sound of the 
 church bell that called young and old, and rich and poor, 
 to the great co-operative fabrication. In farm wagons, in 
 Sunday wagons, and all kinds of four-wheeled and two- 
 wheeled vehicles, they wended their way to the general 
 rendezvous — all exuberant with the spirit of the occasion. 
 It was not only a great, glad gathering of all the people 
 of the town, but half of their yoked oxen and family 
 horses ; and these stepped off in the march with the ani- 
 mation of a holiday. 
 
 An enormous hoop had been prepared and placed upon 
 the bed of the cider-press, which had been well purified 
 for the work, and covered with a false bottom of the 
 purest material. The hoop, resting on this, formed 
 a huge cheese-box, or segment of a cistern, and was 
 placed immediately under the three powerful wooden 
 screws which turned up in the massive head-block above. 
 A committee of arrangement met the contributors as they 
 arrived, and conducted them to the great, white, shallow 
 vat, into which they poured their contingents of curd, 
 from the large tubs of the well-to-do dairyman to the 
 
88 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 six-quart pail of the poor owner of a siugle cow. When 
 the last contribution w^as given in, a select committee of 
 the most experienced dairy matrons of the town addressed 
 themselves to the nice and delicate task of mixing, flavor- 
 ing, and tinting such a mass of curd as was never brought 
 to press before Or since. But the farmers' wives of Chesh- 
 ire Avere equal to the responsibility and duty of their 
 office. All was now ready for the cou^ de grace of the 
 operation. The signal was given. The ponderous screws 
 twisted themselves out from the huge beam overhead with 
 even thread and line. And now the whey ran around the 
 circular channels of the broad bed in little foamy, bubbling 
 livers. The machinery worked to a charm. The stoutest 
 young farmers manned the long levers. The screws 
 creaked, and posts and beam responded to the pressure 
 with a sound between puiF and groan. It w^as a coai- 
 plete success. The young men, in their shirt sleeves, 
 with flushed and moistened faces, rested at the levers, for 
 they had moved them to the last inch of their force. All 
 the congregation, with the children in the middle, stood 
 in a compact circle around the great press. The June 
 sun brightened their faces with its most genial beams, 
 and brought into the happiest illumination the thoughts 
 that beat in their hearts. Then Elder Leland, standing 
 upon a block of wood, and with his deep-lined face over- 
 looking the whole assembly, spread out his great, toil- 
 hardened hands, and looking steadfastly, with open eyes, 
 heavenward, as if to see the pathw^ay of his thanksgiv- 
 ing to God, and the return blessing on its descent, offered 
 up the gladness and gratitude of his flock for the one 
 earnest mind that had inspired them to that day's deed, 
 
Incidents and Observations. 89 
 
 and invoked the divine favor upon it and the nation's 
 leader for whom it was designed. Then followed a ser- 
 vice as unique and impressive as any company of the 
 Scotch Covenanters ever performed in their open-air con- 
 venticles in the Highland glens. " Let us further wor- 
 ship God," he said, " in a hymn suitable to the occasion." 
 What the hymn was, whether it was really composed for 
 the ceremony, could now hardly be ascertained. But, as 
 was then the custom, the elder lined it off with his grave, 
 sonorous voice ; that is, he read two lines at a time, 
 which the congregation sung ; then he gave out two more, 
 thus cutting up the tune into equal bits with good breath- 
 ing spaces between them. The tune was Mear, which 
 was so common in New England worship that wherever 
 and whenever public prayer was wont to be made, in 
 church, school-house, or private dwelling, this was sure to 
 be sung. It is a sober, staid, but brave tune, fitted for a 
 slow march on the up-hill road of Christian life and duty, 
 as the good people of New England found it in their ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Now, here was a scene worthy of the most graphic and 
 perceptive pencil of the artist ; and no English artist 
 could do it to the life, unless he had actually seen with 
 his own eyes, or could photograph in his own fancy, the 
 dress, looks, and j90se of that village congregation singing 
 that hymn around the great cheese-press of Cheshire. 
 The outer circle of ox-carts, farm and Sunday wagons, 
 the great red cattle that ruminated with half-shut eyes in 
 the sun, and the horses tied in long ranks to the fences — 
 all this background of the picture might well inspire and 
 employ the painter's best genius. The occasion was not 
 
go Ten-AIinute Talks. 
 
 a sportful holiday. Nothing could more vividly and fully 
 express the vigor of political life in the heart of a town's 
 population. The youngest boys and girls that stood 
 around that cheese-press knew the whole meaning of the 
 demonstration, and had known it for six months and 
 more. The earnest political discussion had run from the 
 church-steps to the hearth-stone of every house, however 
 humble, up and down those hills and valleys. The boys 
 at their winter school had taken sides to sharpen the war- 
 Jare, although they all went with the elder and their par- 
 ents in opinion. They shortened the appellations of the- 
 two political parties, and resolved themselves into Dems. 
 and Feds,^ though the most high-spirited boys were very 
 loath to take the obnoxious name of Feds,^ even as a 
 make-believe. For tv/o or three winter months at school, 
 they had erected snow forts, and mounted upon their 
 white walls the opponent flags of the two parties. From 
 these they had sallied out into pitched battle. Many a 
 young Fed. and Dem, had been brought down, or had 
 the breath beaten out of his body in the cross fire of snow- 
 balls, some of which had been dipped in water and frozen 
 to ice in the preceding night. Amid shouts and jeers, 
 and garments rolled in snow, the village youngsters had 
 fought these political battles from day to day and week 
 to week ; and now they stood around the press with their 
 parents and elder brothers, with as clear a perception 
 and with as deep an interest as the best-read politicians 
 of the town could have and feel in the demonstration. 
 Such was the congregation in the midst of which Elder 
 John Leland stood up and dedicated to the great political 
 chief, Thom.as Jefferson, President of the United States, 
 
Incidents and Observations. 91 
 
 the greatest cheese ever put to press in the New World or 
 the Old. He then dismissed his flock with the benedic- 
 tion, with as solemn an air as if they had been laying 
 the foundation of a church ; and they all filed away to 
 their homes as decorously and thoughtfully as if they had 
 attended religious service. 
 
 When the cheese was well dried and ready for use, it 
 weighed sixteen hundred ijounds. It could not be safely 
 conveyed on wheels to its destination. About the mid- 
 dle of the following winter, when there was a good 
 depth of snow all over the country, the great Cheshire 
 was placed on a sleigh, and Elder Leland was commis- 
 sioned to take the reins and drive it all the way to 
 Washington. The distance was full five hundred miles, 
 requiring a journey of three weeks. The news of this 
 political testimonial had spread far and wide, and the 
 elder was hailed with varying acclamations in the towns 
 through which he passed, especially in those v/here he 
 put up for the night. The Federals squibbed him, of 
 course, with their satirical witticisms ; but they caught a 
 Tartar in the elder, who was more than a match for them 
 in that line of humor. Arriving at Washington, he pro- 
 ceeded immediately to the White House, and presented 
 his people's gift to President Jefferson, in a speech which 
 the elder only could make. He gave him some of the 
 details of the battle they had fought for his election and 
 reputation ; how they had defended him from the odium 
 and malicious slanders of the Puritans, and how they all, 
 old and young, gloried in his triumph. He presented the 
 cheese to him as a token of their profound respect, as 
 their seal-manual to the popular ratification of his elec- 
 
92 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 tion. It was the unanimous and co-operative production 
 of all the people of Cheshire. Every family and every 
 Democratic cow in the town had contributed to it. 
 
 The President responded with deep and earnest feeling 
 to this remarkable gift, coming from the heart of a New 
 England population ; receiving it as a token of his fideli- 
 ty to the equal and inalienable rights of individual men 
 and states. This portion of his speech has been pre- 
 served : " I will cause this auspicious event to be placed 
 upon the records of our nation, and it will ever shine 
 amid its glorious archives. I shall ever esteem it among 
 the most happy incidents of my life. And now, my 
 much respected, reverend friend, I will, by the consent 
 and in the presence of my most honored council, have 
 this cheese cut, and you will take back with you a por- 
 tion of it, with ray hearty thanks, and present it to your 
 people, that they may all have a taste. Tell them never 
 to falter in the principles they have so nobly defended. 
 They have successfully come to the rescue of our be- 
 loved country in the time of her great peril. I wish 
 them health and prosperity, and may milk in great abun- 
 dance never cease to flow to the latest posterity." 
 
 The steward of the President passed a long, glitter- 
 ing knife through the cheese, and cut out a deep and 
 golden w^edge in the presence of Mr. Jefferson, the heads 
 of the department, foreign ministers, and many other 
 eminent personages. It was of a most beautiful annatto 
 color, a little variegated in appearance, owing to the great 
 variety of curds composing it ; and as it was served up to 
 the company with bread, all complimented it for its rich- 
 ness, flavor, and tint ; and it was considered the most 
 
Incidents and Observations, 93 
 
 perfect specimen of cheese ever exhibited at the White 
 House. The elder was introduced to all the members 
 of the distinguished party, who warmly testified their 
 admiration of such a token of regard to the chief magis- 
 trate of the nation from him and his people. 
 
 Having thus accomplished his interesting mission, El- 
 der Leland set out on his return journey to Massachu- 
 setts. The great cheese aud its reception had already 
 become noised abroad, and he made a kind of triumphal 
 march all the way back to Cheshire. On arriving there, 
 there was another meeting, hardly second in attendance 
 and interest to that around Captain Brown's cider-mill in 
 the summer. The elder recounted to his parishioners all 
 the incidents of his reception, and presented to them the 
 thanks of the President. Then they all partook of the 
 great yellow wedge of their cheese, which they ate with 
 double relish as the President's gift to them, as well as 
 theirs to him. Thus the little hill town of Cheshire 
 ratified, signed, and sealed the election of Thomas Jef- 
 ferson, who has been called justly the Father of American 
 Democracy. It was a seal worthy the intelligence, pa- 
 triotism, and industry of a New England dairy town, and 
 one which its successive generations will speak of with 
 just pride and congratulations. 
 
94 Te7i'Minute Talks. 
 
 A EUEAL EVANGELICAL ALLIANCE. 
 
 I ONCE spent a Sunday in a rural village in Shropshire, 
 where I saw the best illustration of an evangelical alliance, 
 on a small scale, that I had ever witnessed. It was a 
 small district, embosomed among the hills, and planted 
 wiih clusters of thatched cottages, in threes, fours, and 
 fives, the youngest looking a century old. A few houses 
 of a better sort stood half hidden and half revealed, 
 scattered along the sunny hill-sides, or nestling in clumps 
 of trees in the valley. Here was a genuine rural com- 
 munity, as completely English as it was a hundred years 
 ago. Here you might enjoy to the full the reality of your 
 earliest dreams of an English country village of the 
 olden time. It was delightful to one who loved such 
 dreams to think that, in face of all the sweeping and 
 transforming work of '' modern improvements," such a 
 community could be found, unruffled in its existence by 
 the noisy march of eager civilization. The quietude of 
 seven Sundays in a week seemed to rest upon it. 
 Even the busiest industries of the working days did not 
 break its Sabbath stillness, any more than the chirp of 
 crickets or the caw of rooks could have done. 
 
 The whole parish probably numbered about fifty 
 tenant farmers,, and perhaps four times that number of 
 farm laborers. A clergyman, doctor, and two or three 
 school teachers made up the professional class. The 
 community was too small, poor, and quiet to support a 
 lawyer. To go out from London, or any other large 
 
Incidents and Observations. 95 
 
 town, to spend a Sabbath in such a parish, was to witness 
 and enjoy the most salient and interesting contrasts in 
 society ; and it was one of the richest treats I ever 
 shared. The community was too small for the play of 
 denominational zeal or self-seeking. United, they could 
 only stand with some effort ; divided into sects, each would 
 be a willow stick in strength. Still, few as they were, 
 they could not all be of one religious faith or form of 
 doctrine and worship. Doubtless all the denominations 
 in England were represented in the beliefs and predilec- 
 tions of the rural villagers. But they were obliged to 
 concede and compromise in the matter of these denomi- 
 national opinions and forms, in order to have any social 
 worship at all. For there were only three small places 
 for such worship in the parish. Two of these were 
 unique little buildings of the Established Church, each 
 capable of seating from sixty to eighty persons. The 
 other was a Wesleyan chapel, w^hich would hold a 
 hundred. 
 
 The clergyman, as a minister of the Established 
 Church is called, preached in one of his little churches in 
 the morning, and in the other in the afternoon, as they 
 were a mile and a half apart. He had watched over 
 and ministered to these two little folds for tw^enty-seven 
 years, and he had done it with a single-hearted faith, 
 devotion, and earnestness that had never waned or 
 weakened. The two " livings " together yielded him but 
 a little more than five hundred dollars a year ; but he 
 had a good and comfortable parsonage and a few acres 
 of land rent free. Here, in the quietude of this rural 
 home and rural round of duties, he had kept his mind in 
 
96 Ten-Mmute Talks. 
 
 full and fresh communion with the world of thought 
 outside, with its learning and literature, and bad sur- 
 rounded himself with a large library, which they had 
 filled. No educated man in London could have mingled 
 in these intellectual fellowships or enjoyed them with 
 greater relish. Here he had educated his own children 
 to a high standard of attainment in classics, mathemat- 
 ics, and other college studies, and he had also been a 
 teacher to many of the village children. 
 
 The Sabbath sun arose over the hills, and filled all the 
 quiet valley with its smile and light. My host, the most 
 considerable and intelligent farmer of the parish, was a 
 Wesleyan ; and when I asked him about the order of the 
 day, I found it was to exemplify a very pleasant evan- 
 gelical alliance. We were to go to the Wesleyan chapel 
 in the morning, and interchange with the Episcopal 
 church the rest of the day. So the rector went off to his 
 most distant field in the forenoon, and we went down 
 into the valley, by winding footpaths through meadows, 
 across brooks, and along green hedges, to the little 
 chapel. By similar paths, converging to it from all 
 directions, came men with sun-bronzed faces and hob- 
 nailed shoes, and housewives and girls and boys, show- 
 ino; the ruddv life of out-door work and exercise. When 
 they entered, and walked up the bare wooden aisles to 
 their seats, the house felt their tread to its very rafters. 
 As their preacher was engaged elsewhere, the service 
 consisted of a prayer-meeting, led by my host. It was 
 characterized by all that glow and fervor of spirit and 
 utterance which distinguish the denomination in all 
 countries, and give their social prayers such unction and 
 
Incidents mid Observations, 9^-^ 
 
 power of contagious sympathy as to draw out loud re- 
 sponses to their fervid sentiments from the goodly fellow- 
 ship of worshippers. An incident had occurred a short 
 time before which now quickened their supplications with 
 a personal interest. Two sons of my host had just sailed 
 for America, to make a home in West Tennessee for the 
 whole family. They were only eighteen and nineteen 
 years of age, but were well-educated and pious young 
 men, most affectionately remembered by the whole com- 
 munion of the chapel. It was affecting to see a row of 
 those sunburnt men kneeling, as it were, behind a breast- 
 work of heavy hobnailed shoes, praying with such 
 emotion for the protection and well-being of these young 
 men. They were mentioned in every supplication, and 
 every man who did it on his knees prayed as if they 
 were his own and only sons. 
 
 At three o'clock the service in the little parish church, 
 almost opposite the residence of my host, was to com- 
 mence. Its little bell, hung from a beam resting on two 
 posts at the gable, began to call out the villagers w^ith the 
 smart but small voice of a large dinner-bell. They 
 heard it up the hill-sides and down in the valley, and came 
 at its invitation by footpaths through the fields and by 
 narrow, crooked lanes, hedged head-high with blooming 
 hawthorn. As we were so near the church, we were to 
 start when we saw the clergyman pass. In a few minutes 
 be made his appearance in a companionship which showed 
 the best elements of a true evangelical alliance, after the 
 gospel pattern. He had been a man of medium height ; 
 but from some infirmity in his later years he was bent 
 short at the breast, almost at a sharp angle. On one 
 7 
 
98 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 side of him walked his graceful and highly-cultivated 
 daughter, deeply read in Greek and all scholarly learn- 
 ing, but gentle, and meek, and quiet, with better graces. 
 On the other side of the pastor walked a first-rate 
 specimen of an English farm laborer. He stood full six 
 feet in his heavy, hobnailed shoes, which must, how- 
 ever, have added a full inch to his stature. He had on 
 his head the round felt hat peculiar to his class. But its 
 proud distinction he w^ore in the white smock-frock which 
 it does one's eyes good to see, if he has ever delighted in 
 stories of English rural life. It would be difficult for an 
 American who has not actually seen it to get a good and 
 proper idea of this unique garment. It is altogether a 
 different thing from the old tow frocks worn by some of 
 our farmers fifty years ago, although resembling them in 
 shape. It is as much the uniform of the English farm 
 laborer as is the red coat that of the English soldier ; 
 and he wears it as proudly to church and on all public 
 occasions. It is not only for use on week days, but for 
 ornament on Sundays. It is literally ornamented to the 
 highest conceptions of rustic genius in its make-up. At 
 breast and back it shows the most elaborate embroidery 
 of the rustic needle. Indeed, I have seen some of them 
 (evidently kept for public appe'arance) that seemed to 
 bear in their ornamentation a full month's work of such 
 a needle. When put on white as snow, of a Sunday 
 morning, Joe Dobbin walks; to church with as much 
 self-consciousness as any New York belle in Stewart's 
 best. Then this long, embroidered robe covers, if not a 
 multitude of worse defects, at least defects in the 
 
Incidents and Observations, 99 
 
 clothes it conceals, wliich the wearer would not like to 
 be seen at church. 
 
 It was interesting to see this evangelical triad walking 
 to the sanctuary side by side, representing the refined and 
 rough elements and forces of society. We followed them, 
 and saw and realized in the little church such a pleasant 
 fellowship of creeds and worshippers as I never witnessed 
 before. My Wesleyan host was one of the wardens of 
 the church, and the Wesleyan schoolmaster the pastor's 
 clerk, to lead the readings after him and the responses. 
 He was a stoutish man, with a square, bald head, thickly 
 hedged at the sides with iron-gray hair. The austerities 
 of a Calvinistic creed, or the equally serious cares and 
 perplexities of a schoolmaster's life, had given a stern, 
 iinsunny expression to his face and voice ; but he gently 
 helped the pastor on with his black gown, and smoothed 
 down its crumpled folds tenderly. He then took the 
 clerk's desk, bowed his head in silent invocation, as if 
 '' to the manner born," and afterwards w^ent through all 
 the service with a reverent voice and clerkly emphasis. 
 When the sermon began, he took a seat in a pew by the 
 side of the pastor's daughter ; and they sang psalms and 
 hymns together out of the same book, he leading the 
 tunes. Half the congregation, if such a small company 
 could be so called, was composed of Wesleyans and other 
 Dissenters. But all entered into the services, repeated 
 the creeds, and uttered the responses as heartily as if it 
 w^ere their own mother and only church. The pastor 
 looked upon them all as his own flock, and no shepherd 
 ever watched over his sheep with more interest. Indeed, 
 for twenty-seven years he had kept a Sunday check- 
 
lOO Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 book, as well as week-day diary ; and in this he had put 
 down the number and persons present at every service, 
 for all this long period. The attendance in this one 
 place of worship had averaged about forty persons, 
 young and old, for this space of time. 
 
 In the evening the little evangelical alliance met in the 
 Wesleyan chapel, which was well filled. Their local 
 preacher, a wheelwright from a neighboring village, was 
 now in the pulpit. If his thoughts did not suggest study 
 by the midnight oil, his large, rough hands showed hard 
 week-day toil from sun to sun. His heart was full of 
 gospel truth, and he poured it out in a volume of voice 
 which made the building respond to his own emotion. 
 He had the H difficulty strong upon him, and spoke of 
 the final consummation of all earthly things, when the 
 " helements hof hair " should be on fire, with remarkable 
 force and fervor. But the superfluous H did not impair 
 the meaning of his words, nor lessen their eff'ect upon 
 the audience. I noticed that the vicar's learned and 
 accomplished daughter, who presided at the melodeon, 
 listened to the sermon with meek and reverent attention. 
 She again sat by the Wesleyan schoolmaster, and played 
 and sang by his side as sweetly and devotionally as she 
 did in the afternoon in her father's pew. When the 
 service ended, it was pleasant to see Churchmen, Wes- 
 leyans, and other Dissenters walking home from the 
 sanctuary in a goodly fellowship that lasted through the 
 week, from Sabbath to Sabbath. 
 
 Nor was it only on the Sabbath that they met in 
 religious worship. On every Friday evening there was 
 a service in my host's large kitchen hall, as completely 
 
Incidents and Observations, loi 
 
 English, of the olden time, as one could be. It was to 
 a farmer's retainers what the banqueting hall of the old 
 feudal baron was to his hospitality. It was a long room, 
 paved with brick, and hung overhead with sides of brown 
 bacon, hams, and dried herbs, with a long black gun, of 
 Queen Bess's stamp, lying in the middle, on wooden 
 brackets. One side of the room was bright and glorious 
 with the great jewelry of an English kitchen — shining 
 pans and dishes of tin and copper, of wonderful disk and 
 depth. At one end, and absorbing nearly its whole 
 breadth, was the old-fashioned fireplace, with its seated 
 depths into the chimney, that would hold a whole family 
 inside the mantel. Up and down the centre ran the 
 great table, around which many generations had gathered 
 to their meals. It was one entire slab of English oak, 
 full four feet wide and twenty long, and just as black, 
 and smooth, and polished as ebony. 
 
 Such was the place of week-night prayer, at which 
 this little evangelical alliance met and spent an hour in 
 Christian fellowship. The vicar was always present, 
 and led the devotions ; and what was written in their 
 hearts they uttered in supplication and thanksgiving, 
 without printed book or creed. It was well worth a long 
 journey into the country to spend a Sunday in such a 
 community, to witness " how good and how pleasant it is 
 for brethren to dwell together in unity." 
 
I02 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 A QUAKER MEETING IN LONDON. 
 
 A LEAF FROM MY PRIVATE JOURNAL. 
 
 Friday, May 21, 1852. — This was a day of deep in- 
 terest. Went in the morning to the meeting for public 
 worship in the Devonshire House, which was filled to its 
 utmost capacity with Friends from every part of the king- 
 dom. As a spectacle, no human congregation can sur- 
 pass it in impressive physiognomy. The immaculate 
 purity of the women's dresses, as they sat, a multitude of 
 shining ones, arising in long, quiet ranks from the floor 
 to the gallery on one side of the house, and the grave 
 mountain of sedate and thoughtful men on the other, pre- 
 sented an aspect more suggestive of the assemblies of the 
 New Jerusalem than of any earthly congregation. In a 
 few minutes the last comers had found seats ; and then 
 a deep devotional silence settled down upon the great as- 
 sembly like an overshadowing presence from heaven. 
 The still, upbreathing prayer of a thousand hearts seemed 
 to ascend like incense, and the communion of the Holy 
 Spirit to descend like a dove, whose wing-beats touched 
 to sweeter serenity those faces so calm with the divine 
 benediction. 
 
 The deep silence of this unspoken devotion grew more 
 and more intense, as if the whole assembly were listening 
 to voices which their spirits alone could hear, and which 
 a breath would drown. Then one arose, in the middle of 
 the house, with tremulous meekness, to unburden the 
 
Incidents a7td Observations. 103 
 
 heart of a few brief message-words which it feared to 
 withhold, lest it should sin against the inspiration that 
 made them burn within it. Then, from another part of 
 the house, arose the quavering words of prayer, few, but 
 full of the earnest emotion and humble utterance of faith 
 and supplication. Then moments of deeper silence fol- 
 lowed, as if all the faculties of the mind and all the 
 senses of physical being had descended into the soul's in- 
 ner temple, to wait there for the voice of the Spirit of 
 God. How impressive was the heart-worship of those 
 silent moments ! There was something solemn beyond 
 description in the presence of a thousand persons of all 
 ages so immovable that they scarcely seemed to breathe. 
 The '' Minister's Gallery " was occupied by a long rank 
 of the fathers and mothers of the society, from all parts 
 of the United Kingdom, who seemed to preside over the 
 great communion like shepherds sitting down before their 
 quiet flocks by the still waters of salvation. In the cen- 
 tre sat a man and woman, a little past the meridian of 
 life, and apparently strangers. The former had an 
 American look, which was quite perceptible even from 
 the opposite end of the building ; and v/hen he slowly 
 arose out of the deep silence, his first words confirmed 
 that impression. They were words fitly spoken and sol- 
 emn, but uttered with such a nasal intonation as I never 
 heard before, even in New England. At first, and for a 
 few moments, I doubted whether this aggravated pecu- 
 liarity would not lessen the salutary effect of his exhorta- 
 tion upon the minds of the listening assembly. But as 
 his words beo:an to flow and warm with iucreasino; unc- 
 tion, they cleared up, little by little, from this nasal ca- 
 
104 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 dence, and rounded into more oral enunciation. Little 
 by little they grew stronger and fuller with the power of 
 truth, and the truth made them free and flowing. His 
 whole person, so impassive and emotionless at first, now 
 entered into the enunciation of his thoughts with con- 
 stantly increasing animation, and his address grew more 
 and more impressive to the last. He spoke for nearly an 
 hour, and when he sat down and buried his spare figure 
 under his broad-brimmed hat, and the congregation set- 
 tled down into the profound quiet of serene meditation, I 
 doubted whether it would be broken again by the voice 
 of another exhortation. 
 
 But after the lapse of a few minutes, the woman who 
 sat by thQ side of the American minister — and she was 
 his wife — might be perceived in a state of half-sur- 
 pressed emotion, as if demurring to the inward monition 
 of the spirit that bade her arise and speak to such an as- 
 sembly. It might well have seemed formidable to the 
 nature of a meek and delicate woman. She appeared to 
 struggle involuntarily with the conviction of duty, and to 
 incline her person slightly towards her husband, as if her 
 heart leaned for strength on the sympathy of his, as well 
 as on the wisdom she awaited from above. Then she 
 arose, calm, meek, and graceful. Her first words 
 dropped with the sweetest cadence upon the still congre- 
 gation, and were heard in every part of the house, though 
 they were uttered in a voice seemingly but a little above 
 a whisper. Each succeeding sentence warbled into new 
 beauty and fulness of silvery intonation. The burden 
 of her spirit was the life of religion in the heart, as con- 
 trasted with its mere language on the tongue ; or, what 
 
Incidents and Observations, 105 
 
 it was to be truly and fully a disciple of Jesus Christ. 
 Having meekly stated the subject which had occupied 
 her meditations, and which she felt constrained to revive 
 in the hearing of the congregation before her, she said, 
 " And now, in my simple way, and in the brief words 
 that may be given me, let me enter with you into the ex- 
 amination of this question.'* 
 
 At the first word of this sentence, she loosened the 
 fastenings of her bonnet, and, at the last one, handed it 
 down to her husband with an indescribable grace. There 
 was something very impressive in the act, as well as in 
 the manner in which it was performed — as if she un- 
 covered her head involuntarily in reverence to that vision 
 of divine truth unsealed to her waiting eyes. And in her 
 eyes it seemed to beam with a serene and heavenly light, 
 and to burn in her heart with holy inspiration ; to touch 
 her lips and every gentle motion of her person with a 
 beautiful, eloquent, and solemn expression, as her words 
 fell in the sweet music of her voice upon the rapt 
 assembly. Like a stream welling and warbling out of 
 Mount Hermon, and winding its way to the sea, flowed 
 the melodious current of her message ; now meandering 
 among the half-opened flowers of unrhymed poetry ; now 
 through the green pastures of savlation where the Good 
 Shepherd was bearing in his bosom the tender lambs of 
 his flock. Then it took the force of lofty diction, and fell 
 in a volume of silvery eloquence, but slow, solemn, and 
 searching, down the rocks and ravines of Sinai ; then out, 
 like a little river of music, into the wilderness where the 
 prodigal son, with the husks of his poverty clutched in 
 
io6 Ten-Mmute Talks. 
 
 his lean bands, sat in tearful meditation on his father's 
 home and his father's love. 
 
 More than a thousand persons seemed to hold their 
 breath, as they listened to that meek, delicate woman, 
 whose lips were touched to an utterance almost divine. 
 I never saw an assembly so subdued into motionless medi- 
 tation. And the solemn, impressive silence deepened to 
 a stillness more profound when she ceased to speak. In 
 the midst of these thoughtful moments she knelt in prayer. 
 At the first word of her supplication, the whole congre- 
 gation arose. The men who had worn their hats while 
 she spoke to them, reverently uncovered their heads as 
 she knelt down to speak to God. Her clear, sweet voice 
 trembled with the burden of her petition, on which her 
 spirit seemed to ascend into the holy of holies, and to 
 plead there, with Jacob's faith, for a blessing upon all 
 encircled within that immediate presence. When she 
 arose from her knees, the great congregation sat down, 
 as it were, under the shadow of that prayer, in medita- 
 tion more deep and devotional. This lasted a few min- 
 utes, when two of the fathers of the society, sitting in 
 the centre of the ministers' gallery, turned and shook 
 hands with each other, and were followed by other 
 couples in each direction, as a kind of mutual benedic- 
 tion, as well as a signal that the meeting was terminated. 
 At this simple sign the whole congregation arose, and 
 quietly left the house. 
 
Incidents and Observations. 107 
 
 . THE ENGLISH DAY. 
 
 There has been no day in the life of the American 
 nation marked by such peculiar interest as the '' English 
 Day," at the great Peace Jubilee at Boston. It was not 
 the grand music that made it surpass, in several most 
 happy characteristics, the other days of the long banquet 
 of the world's best melodies, though this in itself lifted 
 the great multitude to a height as rapturous as any to 
 which they were borne by any after-fiood of symphony. 
 There were histories, memories, associations, and co- 
 incidences that gave to the music of those hours a 
 power and effect which twenty thousand trained voices 
 and instruments could not alone produce upon the vast 
 assembly. There were profounder meanings than these 
 alone could express, to be translated into the silent 
 language of the heart by all who witnessed that scene 
 with the attentive faculties of reflection. For it was a 
 scene of sublime representation, as well as the most mul- 
 titudinous concert of human voices ever heard on earth. 
 A great history was enacted as a variation in the loftiest 
 songs that human and metal lips could raise. At this 
 gathering of the nations, two stood face to face in a re- 
 lationship that can never bind two others together by 
 ties so strong and many, by memories so mutual, proud, 
 and precious. The mother and daughter stood there, 
 looking into each other's faces, w^ith the history of a hun- 
 dred years between them, — a century, lacking but a lit- 
 tle, between them and the last of the years when the 
 
io8 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 same parental roof-tree covered them both. One could 
 feel that the common memories that reached across the 
 narrow space between, and dwelt upon thgse years of 
 childhood and motherhood in their common home, made 
 not a '' mournful," but a happy and tender " rustle " in 
 the hearts of q^^^qv^ thoughtful American and Englishman 
 under that vast roofage. This sentiment gave to the 
 thousands of voices that hailed the opening moment of 
 this scene the inspiration of a sympathy that seemed to 
 thrill the building itself. 
 
 It was a moment that only those present could feel and 
 remember in its full inspiration. The first day of the 
 pentecost of music had put the choral mountain of sing- 
 ers, and all the varied singing and instruments of melody, 
 into their best tune for these English hours. The Jubi- 
 lee had opened with that grandest of jail songs that ever 
 lifted the praise of human hearts and lips into the ears 
 of God — Old Hundred. Never on earth before was it 
 sung w^ith such heart and power, and never, perhaps, un- 
 til it is sung anew by the sacramental hosts in heaven, 
 will it be so sung again. The effect was indescribable. 
 No figures nor parallels of speech could give one who 
 did not hear it any idea of the impression it made upon 
 the thousands who sang and the thousands who listened. 
 All the doxologies of the two Englands, Old and New, 
 for a hundred years, seemed to respond with their soft 
 and solemn echoes, and mingled with the flood of molten 
 voices that rolled up and down the choral mountain, as- 
 cending, widening, deepening, and strengthening, until 
 its waves of symphony beat against the lofty roofage of 
 the edifice, and made the pendent flags of all nations keep 
 
Incidents and Observations. 109 
 
 time in fluttering sympathy with the inspiration. If Old 
 Hundred may well be called the Marseillaise for the hosts 
 of the Christian world to sing on their march "to the 
 battles of the Lord against the mighty/' '' Nearer, my 
 God, to Thee," was a song equally happy to close the 
 first day's feast of music ; and if music alone could lift a 
 human congregation nearer to God, then none ever assem- 
 bled on earth could have been raised higher than the multi- 
 tude who listened to that favorite hymn, in which all, from 
 one end of the building to the other, mingled their voices. 
 This first day of the feast was one virtually of rehearsal 
 and preparation for singers and listeners, tuning their lips, 
 ears, and hearts for the morrows that were to follow. 
 Twenty thousand voices, that had given their sweetest 
 music to the Sabbath devotions of hundreds of New Eng- 
 land churches, had poured their best notes, for the first 
 time, into one swelling flood of melody ; and the flood 
 had upborne them to an inspiration of heart and tongue 
 which had never thrilled the same number of human 
 singers before. Such was the preparation for the Eng- 
 lish Day. There was not a man nor woman in the sides 
 of that choral mountain who did not know and appreciate 
 the affinities, histories, and memories that were to make 
 the English Day diff'er from all that were to follow it at 
 the festival. When, therefore, the file-leader of the Brit- 
 ish Grenadier Band emerged from under the great organ, 
 heading " the thin, red line" that slowly threaded the 
 mountainous orchestra to its base before the great multi- 
 tude, there was a scene, as well as acclamation, which it 
 would have done the hearts of the two great nations good 
 to have witnessed and heard with their millions. The 
 
no Ten-Minute Tails, 
 
 thoiisands who saw and heard for tliem grasped the 
 whole significance of the scene and the moment, to the 
 full meaning and inspiration of all the histories, memo- 
 ries, and associations they brought to life. England, and 
 her queen, and her historical centuries, and all our proud 
 inheritance in them, stood there before us in that red line 
 of men, in tall bear-skin caps, facing the palpitating, 
 fluttering mountain of singers. The cheering multitude 
 behind them rolled back the flood of acclamation that 
 rose and swelled from floor to roof, and made the vast 
 building tremulous with the emotion of thirty thousand 
 human hearts, all stirred to the same sentiment of wel- 
 come and delight. There they stood in a line so immov- 
 able that they looked like a row of red statuary, not a hair 
 of their bear-skin caps, nor a border or hem of their 
 coats stirring in the midst of the agitated human sea 
 that impended over them and surrounded them on every 
 side. 
 
 Of course there were minutes of multitudinous cheer- 
 ing, with thirty thousand men and women on their feet 
 with waving of handkerchiefs, which preceded the first 
 note from that " thin red line." There was space in 
 these intervening minutes for the thoughts of other and 
 many years ; for the incidents, coincidents, and associa- 
 tions of the scene and hour. This British band of musi- 
 cians had marched into Boston on the very day, almost a 
 century gone, when their countrymen marched, in their 
 red, brave lines, up the slopes of Bunker Hill, reddened 
 by the first conflict that sundered the English speaking 
 race in the twain of separate nations. This very hour, 
 the same space between, hundreds of English soldiers, 
 
Incidents and Observations. iii 
 
 who fell on that day, were being laid in a thin, red line, 
 in a soldier's grave. They fought and fell in the very 
 uniform worn by their grandchildren before us. They 
 had charged up those embattled heights in the same tall 
 bear-skin caps. The thoughtful minutes were full of 
 memories and associations that reached into the histories 
 of the whole family of nations, and which the scene 
 brought home to our reflections with the freshness of yes- 
 terday's events. This day, fifty-seven years ago, the 
 fathers of this red-coated band before us marched away 
 from the field of Waterloo, at the head of the British 
 army, filling the air of heaven with their grandest strains 
 of victory. And here now stood their sons, in the same 
 uniform and stalwart, solid stature, before us, awaiting a 
 lull in the tempest of cheers to pour forth the mellow 
 music of human brotherhood. Here were the rival bands 
 of France and Germany to listen with the great multi- 
 tude to the British overture, and to respond with their 
 best music, each in the day set apart to its nation. 
 
 It needed but a minute for a mind awake to the inspi- 
 ration of the scene to bring all these historical incidents 
 and associations to a vivid focus of view and reflection. 
 Out of the midst of these, in living presence, the band- 
 leader now gave the signal. As if all those instru- 
 ments had but one breath, their voices poured out a flood 
 of music, so pure, and sweet, and full, that even to call 
 it silvery would suggest a metallic cadence which would 
 not do it justice. Indeed, to common ears it would seem 
 impossible that brass, silver, or gold could be trained to 
 such music of tongue that the natural accent of neither 
 could be recognized in the highest tides of their sym- 
 
112 Ten-Mmtite Talks. 
 
 phony. At their loftiest reach, bugles, cornets, clarinets, 
 and every other instrument, blended in such a soft volume 
 of utterance that it sounded almost with a plaintive ca- 
 dence, and this quality was well fitted to feast a lively 
 imagination with pleasant fancies. As the tall grenadiers 
 stood at the base of that choral mountain, facing its tow- 
 ering heights of spell-bound thousands, they seemed to 
 be rehearsing the experiences of the common mother 
 country since the day when her eldest daughter went out 
 to set up a home of her own. They seemed to be telling 
 a mother's story to such a daughter, not proudly, but gen- 
 tly and tenderly, with a mother's voice, as soft as ever with 
 her first affection. It sounded like a story here and there 
 wet with a falling tear, and tremulous with a sigh at some 
 sad memory that mingled with the thought of intervening 
 years. Then, as if the whole choral host had been touched 
 to deepest sympathy with the sentiment of the story, they 
 arose suddenly to their feet to respond to it. Their re- 
 sponse seemed a spontaneous and instantaneous utterance 
 of that sympathy. Its words seemed to come to their 
 lips as naturally as the smile to their eyes at the first 
 outburst of those enrapturing strains. At such a moment 
 they could not, nor a soul in the great multitude, have 
 thought of any other responding words than " God save 
 THE Queen." 
 
 Never since queens began to reign on earth was the 
 English National Anthem sung by so many human 
 tongues and hearts under one roof. Nowhere under the 
 British sceptre, though the linked continents and islands 
 that own its sway shall belt the great globe itself, will 
 that anthem be so sung again. Here, in sight of Bunker 
 
Incidents and Observations. 113 
 
 Hill, and on the very anniversary of that memorable day 
 in our common history, the granddaughter of George the 
 Third received the grandest choral ovation that ever 
 honored a human sovereign on earth. Twenty-five thou- 
 sand American hearts, and nearly as many of their voices, 
 mingled in the uprising flood, as the one '' voice of many 
 waters." All the vast instrumentalities that human skill 
 could train to musical utterance seemed touched with 
 spontaneous inspiration. The great organ, played by 
 tiller rods as long as a steamship's keel, put in the empha- 
 sis of its mighty bass, and scores of brass cannon, whose 
 swift keys were touched by electric nerves, like the wires 
 of a piano, beat time with the accents of their deep and 
 mellow thunder. Up and down the mountain orchestra 
 and out upon the human sea rolled the ground swell of 
 the anthem. Anon Gilmore, the Napoleon of the Jubi- 
 lee, leaned over on one foot and smote with his wand at 
 this side and that of the vocal mountain, like another 
 Moses at Horeb, and a deepening torrent of melody 
 gushed out into the careering flood. How many thou- 
 sands in that sublime moment wished that Queen Victo- 
 ria had been present in person, to hear how American 
 lips and hearts could sing that anthem ! 
 
 But the climax of ecstasy had not yet been reached. 
 Seemingly as spontaneous as "God save the Queen" 
 had been the response to the overture of the Grenadier 
 Band, we all knew that it was so put down in the pro- 
 gramme. As natural and fitting as it was, its expecta- 
 tion modified the pleasing effect of accidental spontaneity. 
 But what followed was as unexpected as a choral song 
 from the clouds. Hardly had the ebb and flow of the 
 8 
 
114 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 National Anthem subsided into their expiring ripple, 
 when a sudden wave of the leader's wand over that '' thin, 
 red line " brought out The Star-spangled Banner in 
 all the proud glory that the best musical instruments in 
 the wide world could give to it. It was a Roland for an 
 Oliver in the happiest sense of brotherhood. If '' God 
 save the Queen " was never sung with such a concert of 
 heart and voice in England as here under Bunker Hill, 
 it was equally true that ''The Star-spangled Banner'' 
 was never played with such power and effect on the 
 American continent as it was by the British Grenadier 
 Band, as a response to their national anthem. No similes 
 nor illustrations could convey in words an idea of the 
 scene and sentiment of that moment. The incident was 
 as sudden as lightning, and thrilled the vast audience like 
 electricity. All arose to their feet, and their delight 
 deepened into a veritable ecstasy as the grand strains of 
 our national hymn filled the vast building with such a 
 glory of music. Twenty thousand handkerchiefs were 
 waving to and fro like so many white doves waltzing 
 on the wing. Deeper, richer, and grander arose the 
 strains of those incomparable instruments, which seemed 
 to breathe with spontaneous inspiration, and the very 
 building itself appeared to palpitate with the human 
 emotion that deepened at every note. Never since hu- 
 man hymns were sung did one follow the other with 
 such effect upon listening thousands. It was the hap- 
 piest incident of all the festal days of the Jubilee. No 
 moment in the history of the two nations could have 
 made the incident more felicitous, beautiful, and touch- 
 ing. While the astute discussions of wordy diplomacy 
 
Incidents and Observations. 115 
 
 were arraying the two governments in dispute, the two 
 great peoples embraced each other in these two songs 
 with a sense of brotherhood they never felt before. 
 They recognized "the consequential claims" of the old 
 kith and kin, of the. old histories and memories which 
 were their glorious and proud inheritance, as indivisible 
 as one human life. This was the sentiment that led and 
 lifted the tide of emotion to its most rapturous height ; 
 and when the last strain died away murmuring against 
 its end, the great triumph of the Jubilee was felt and 
 owned by every soul present. The English Day was 
 alone well worth the structure of the Coliseum, and all 
 that it had cost of faith, hope, genius, and effort, to con- 
 vene under its roof twenty thousand singers, and the best 
 musical instruments and capacities of the world. 
 
 IT'S LIKE PAETING WITH MY OWN LIFE. 
 
 A MAN and his wife, of middle age, called at our office 
 for some assistance in getting a passage back to America. 
 They were English born, but had resided in the United 
 States many years ; when, having gathered together a 
 little property, they had come to England to visit some 
 relatives much poorer than themselves, though rich in 
 good will. Unwilling to be guests of honest poverty, 
 they invested their little fortune in a small business, with 
 the hope of paying their way, without burdening their 
 relatives or wastinor their own means. But their enter- 
 
ii6 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 prise was a failure, and they lost all their savings, and 
 were left without means to get back to America. In 
 this dilemma they applied to us for aid. They had a 
 beautiful Pomeranian dog with them, a bright, sprightly, 
 affectionate creature, which never had the fear of poverty 
 or hunger before its eyes. We suggested that, even if 
 any benevolent persons should pay their passage home in 
 an emigrant ship, the captain or owners would not allow 
 the dog to accompany them, and that it would not be 
 proper for them to solicit help while in possession of such 
 a dog. They had not thought of this before, and both 
 were surprised and distressed at the idea of parting with 
 their pet. It was born at the time of President Lincoln's 
 assassination, and they had brought it to England with 
 them as a living memento of that martyr-patriot ; and 
 the woman took it up into her arms, and caressed it as 
 if her own infant child. There was a sharp and long 
 struggle between necessity and aifection. It could hardly 
 have been more painful if it were the question of leaving 
 their only born behind them in a strange land. Both 
 sobbed aloud and wept like children. We offered to give 
 them a sovereign for it, and promised to treat it tenderly, 
 saying they must give it up to some one. The woman 
 finally consented, in a flood of grief, to give it over to us, 
 and tried to bring her husband to the same mind. He 
 was a hardy-looking man, with long, crispy, black hair, 
 and " face like the tan." He was dressed like the fire- 
 man on board of a steamer, or half engineer and half 
 sailor. But he could not stand it. He burst into tears, 
 and rushed out of the room to hide his face. His wife 
 entreated him back, and tried to reason with him. The 
 
Incidents and Observations. 117 
 
 dog made several leaps to get up into his arms, and looked 
 at him with eyes seemingly full of the tenderest of 
 human emotions. The poor man looked down upon him 
 for a few moments with a doting fondness which was 
 truly affecting ; then, dashing out of the door, he cried 
 out, " I can't do it ! It's like taking away my own 
 life ! " His wife followed him, weeping, saying that if 
 she could bring him over to the parting they would call 
 again in course of the day. But we never saw them 
 again. 
 
 A MODEL FARMER'S HARVEST-HOME. 
 
 The size and surroundings of a regular old-fashioned 
 farmer's fireside shows the companionships and sympa- 
 thies that lived and breathed in the society that gathered 
 around it in the olden times. That kitchen hearth-stone, 
 depend upon it, was not made so broad and deep for 
 the farmer's wife and children. They constituted hardly 
 half the circle that sat around the red fire-light on a 
 winters eve. The sun-browned men and boys of the 
 plough, sickle, scythe, mattock, and flail, who tilled his 
 fields and ricked and threshed his harvests, ate his home- 
 made bread and drank his home-brewed beer by that 
 fireside, and shared with him and his family the merry 
 and musical illumination of the yule-log. Those were 
 the days when capital and labor, when employer and 
 emiploye^ lived in close companionship and much goodly 
 sympathy. But little by little they have receded from 
 
1 1 8 Ten-Min ute Talks . 
 
 each other socially and in common sentiment. There are 
 a thousand old farm-houses in England with kitchen 
 fireplaces large and deep enough, in frontage and sidings, 
 for a good-sized family, and men and boys to till a hold- 
 ing of five hundred acres ; but, in nine cases out of ten, 
 probably, the laborers have been evicted from that 
 hearth-circle by the new customs of fastidious civiliza- 
 tion, or have emigrated voluntarily to the frontiers of the 
 farm, or even to distant villages. As capital and labor 
 have thus gradually seceded from each other locally, they 
 have equally seceded in sympathy, until, in many cases, 
 a most unhappy state of feeling exists between the 
 employer and his men ; one party trying to get as much 
 labor as possible from the other for the least money, and 
 the other bent upon getting the most money for the least 
 labor. Once in a while this feeling explodes in the con- 
 flagration of the harvests w^hich underpaid or ill-used 
 laborers have reaped and ricked for a stingy-hearted 
 farmer. 
 
 Now, all this is wrong and unnatural, and more so 
 between farmers and their laborers, in a certain sense, 
 than between large manufacturers and the operatives 
 they employ, who must be housed in the whole of a 
 small village. Any custom, new or old, that can be 
 adopted to bring back this old social feeling and compan- 
 ionship is a boon and a blessing to the country. We 
 notice, with much pleasure, the Harvest Festivals that 
 are becoming more and more frequent in agricultural 
 districts. These are very good in their way, and the 
 more of them the better. But they cannot bring the 
 farmer and his own men together in the old happy spirit 
 
Incidents and Observatio7is. 119 
 
 of the Harvest Home in his ample kitchen. We had 
 read of these social and festive gatherings from our 
 youth up, but v^ere never present until a few weeks ago, 
 when we were invited to one by a large and well-educated 
 farmer in the neighborhood of Lichfield. Here it was 
 carried out to perfection in act, sentiment, and enjoyment. 
 It was to us a scene of the liveliest interest, illustrating 
 the spirit of our dream of the social life of the olden 
 time. And, what gave zest to the feast, it was not a 
 compensation for a year's fast of friendly intercourse and 
 sympathy on the part of the host towards his men ; it 
 was the crowning expression of his good will and care 
 for them through the past months of labor. Having 
 made himself a model farmer's home, surrounded and 
 embellished with what a cultivated country gentleman 
 could desire, he had attached all his men to him by his 
 generous thought and care for their comfort. While 
 making grottoes, ferneries, and fountains for the enjoy- 
 ment of himself and his own family and friends, he was 
 laying out recreation grounds for his laborers hard by, 
 where they might play at skittles or other healthy games 
 after their work for the day was done. It was as pleas- 
 ant a sight as any social life we ever read of could pro- 
 duce, to see him at one end of the long table and his 
 foreman at the other, and the space on each side filled 
 with all the men and boys he had employed on his farm. 
 We should like to have had the whole scene photographed 
 to the life of all its features, — the faces with all the hot 
 harvest red upon them ; the surroundings and overhang- 
 ings of the large kitchen ; the deep sides of pendent bacon 
 over the table, and great hams hung at intervals between 
 
I20 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 them ; the side walls garnished with kitchen ware of 
 polished copper and tin ; the grand old fireplace with its 
 social histories legible to the mind's eye, and the happy 
 light of thorough enjoyment which seemed to beam from 
 and upon every countenance. It was a sight that did 
 one good to look at and remember in the toil and en- 
 deavor of business life. Then the spread of good things 
 the table presented was both the picture and original of 
 large-hearted and broad-handed hospitality, giving all a 
 quickened appetite by its sight and savor. '' The Roast 
 Beef of Old England " was here, not only in song, but 
 in substance, grand and luscious. It was represented by 
 a round that weighed forty-five pounds before it was put 
 to the fire, and never could such a bulk of English beef 
 have been roasted to more even and thorough perfection. 
 Few men, we fear, ever arose to say grace over such a 
 feast in a farmer's kitchen. What a knife was that he 
 passed through the savory round ! It was as long as a 
 sword, and thin as the blade of a band-saw. It was a 
 harvest home in the most literal and minute sense, — 
 harvest brought into the house and upon the very table, 
 as well as festooned above it — bouquets of golden wheat 
 and barley ears alternating with field and garden flowers 
 and fruits. If the labor that produced the banquet was 
 a prayer, the eating of it was a praise and thanksgiving. 
 What eyes looked upon the feast, what appetites set to 
 its enjoyment ! 
 
 When the great round of beef and the other concomi- 
 tants of the feast had been cut down half way to the 
 table, and there was a hush in the ring and clatter of 
 knives, forks, spoons, and plates, the social dessert was 
 
Incidents and Observations, 121 
 
 introduced hj the host in a short speech of welcome to 
 the special or extra guests that were present, including 
 his brother from Birmingham, a gentleman from Lichfield, 
 Edward Capern, the Rural Postman Poet, and ourself. 
 Each of us was honored wuth a toast, which v/as received 
 by the men and boys .in the heartiest manner, all stand- 
 ing upon their feet, with the home-brewed in their hands, 
 while they sang a verse or two of an old table song, 
 ending something like this, so far as we could catch 
 the words : — 
 
 *' Eor he is a jolly good fellow, 
 And so say all of us ; 
 Hip ! hip ! hip ! hurrah ! 
 For he is a jolly good fellow," &c. 
 
 Every man and boy sang this refrain with rollicking 
 enthusiasm. We noticed that several of the faces on 
 both sides of the table were rough with the furrows of 
 fifty or sixty years, but every furrow was full of a young 
 heart's light. 
 
 The guests responded to the toasts in short speeches, 
 which were most heartily received. Capern, in addition 
 to one or two full of genial humor, sang one of his own 
 songs, the whole company coming down in the chorus 
 with right good will and voice. Then came the toast of 
 the evening. Our host arose, and proposed the health of 
 his foreman at the other end of the table in a short 
 speech, which ought to be printed and circulated among 
 all the farmers of the kingdom. He spoke of the way 
 he had gone in and out with the men of the farm ; how 
 wakeful was his eye and watchful was his care for his 
 
122 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 master's interests, while he was equally solicitous and 
 active for their comfort, as a friend, companion, and 
 fellow-worker. Then he said how much pleased he had 
 been through the year, not only with their work, but 
 with the spirit in which they had done it. It was his 
 delight to see the face of every one of his men sunny 
 and cheerful, and nothing troubled him more than a 
 sulky or discontented look in the field. For himself, it 
 was his earnest wish and thought to make their life and 
 labor as happy as possible to themselves, as well as 
 profitable to himself; and his wife, their mistress, was 
 one with him in this desire and effort. He spoke in a 
 feeling manner of their devotion to his interests during 
 the past harvest ; how that he had often expressed a wish 
 that they would rest for a while in some of the hottest 
 hours, fearing they would be overpowered with the heat, 
 but that they had gone on with their work without 
 flagging, and even were often in the field at three in the 
 morning drawing wheat or barley. 
 
 The foreman arose, and spoke for himself and the men 
 in a little speech, full of good sense and feeling ; and the 
 whole company, including our host, sang with exuberant 
 heart and voice, " For he's a jolly good fellow," &c. 
 Being called upon several times to say a few words, we 
 dwelt upon the spirit of the feast, as the best illustration 
 we had seen of the good feeling and pleasant companion- 
 ship that should exist especially between a farmer and 
 his men. They should all feel that they were rowing 
 in the same boat, and should all pull together as if mak- 
 ing for the same shore. We told them of the hardy 
 whalers of New Bedford ; how they made a joint-stock 
 
Incidents and Observations, 123 
 
 enterprise of every voyage, ia which the owners of the 
 ship had a certain number of shares, the captain and 
 mate, and every man of the crew, even to the cabin-boy, 
 having each a specified proportion of the stock. Thus 
 they all said ive and our at every furrow they ploughed 
 with the keel, aod every stroke of the oar. Every 
 barrel of oil they took they all looked upon as ours^ and 
 at home it was divided between them according to the 
 rate to each agreed upon before they first set sail on the 
 voyage. Every farm should be carried on in the spirit, 
 if not to the letter, of this arrangement ; so that every 
 man and boy employed upon it should say ive and our in 
 regard to every day's labor, to every sheaf of wheat, pig, 
 lamb, or chicken on the establishment ; or make the 
 employer's interest, wish, and will their own, feeling that 
 they would share proportionately in the prosperity and 
 pleasure they thus jointly produced. 
 
 This idea of we, seemed to please the men, and they 
 gave us the "Jolly good fellow," &c., with great gusto, 
 in response to our speech. A little before twelve the 
 host and guests retired, leaving the men at the table 
 for a little while to themselves. But in a few minutes 
 he w^as called for to give them a parting song ; so he 
 went back to the table and sang them their favorite 
 piece, then shook hands with them all round, and rejoined 
 us in the dining-room, when he gave us many incidents 
 and facts illustrating the pleasant feeling existing between 
 himself and all the hands employed on his farm. For our- 
 self, we never sat down to a social banquet with a greater 
 relish of enjoyment. It realized to the full all we had 
 fancied of the social life of the olden time. 
 
124 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 THE CONNECTICUT RIVER. 
 
 The seers and saints of old speak of '' the strength of 
 the hills " as if they were the special gifts of the Creator 
 to his favored people for their defence. The history of 
 later nations has shown us that they have found more 
 in the strength of the hills than defences against the at- 
 tacks of outside enemies ; that they have drawn from 
 them a moral vigor of character, keenness and activity 
 of intellect, and a love of country which has produced 
 the most enduring and elevated patriotism. But if its 
 mountains and hills are the bone and muscle of the earth, 
 its rivers are its blood, even in the sense of a moral 
 vitality to its human races. No parts or elements of a 
 country are so historical as its rivers, or reflect so faith- 
 fully the character of its people. All the upland streams 
 and rills of their experience seem to run down into their 
 main rivers, and these to take the hue of their moral and 
 political life. 
 
 America has its historical rivers, which mirror the life 
 and character of its different communities just as truth- 
 fully and perceptibly. The Mississippi, the Missouri, 
 the Ohio, and the James are marked each by its histori- 
 cal characteristics. Each not only seems to record, but 
 to resemble, the character of the people settled upon its 
 banks. The two most historical rivers in North America, 
 in the fullness and variety of these senses, are the Con- 
 necticut and the St. Lawrence. To the New Englander 
 and Old Englander no other rivers in America embrace 
 
Incidents and Observatio7ts. 125 
 
 so much of varied record a1ad interest as these two beau- 
 tifally-boimd and iUustrated volumes. 
 
 Tiie Connecticut is the central representative river of 
 New England in almost every sense and aspect of reflec- 
 tion. It runs forever full of the bright, pure waters from 
 New England mountains and hills. Here you find New 
 England at home, in the full play of her life and charac- 
 ter. Here she is at work, with all her infinite and match- 
 less industries, that never pause nor rest, week in, week 
 out, the year around. Here are her representative com- 
 munities, her sample towns, villages, factories, farms, 
 schools, and the houses and cottages of men representing 
 all classes of her people. The long, blue river runs 
 through them and her history, like a self-registering 
 gauge, every mile of it marked by some distinctive fea- 
 ture. Here are two centuries in presence and compari- 
 son, with their- contrasting experiences, which the mind 
 almost unconsciously sets one against the other on the 
 way. For, to make the journey of either river without 
 this exercise of reflection vfould be travelling through a 
 country with one eye shut. 
 
 The Connecticut bears the record of such noble hero- 
 isms as the Rhine, Avith all its mountain castles of old 
 baronial robbers, never equalled. No expedition that 
 ever sailed up or down that river could compare for sub- 
 lime courage and faith with Captain John Mason's fleet 
 of two sloops, that sailed down the Connecticut from 
 Hartford, against the powerful Pequots, with all the able- 
 bodied men of the English settlements on board. What 
 deed of. patriotic daring and devotion in the history of 
 our English race should rank higher in the glory of human 
 
126 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 acts tlian that of this little forlorn hope, when its leaders, 
 in the face of the fortified foe, sent back a part of their 
 handful of men to protect the defenceless homes they had 
 left behind ! Not that they were too many, like Gideon's 
 band, to meet the enemy's host, but because those log- 
 cabin hamlets at Hartford, Windsor, and Wethersfield, 
 wdiich held their hearts' treasures, had been left with too 
 few armed men to defend them. 
 
 Every mile of the river above Hartford has its asso- 
 ciation with the first perils, hardsliips, and heroism of 
 the pioneers of the English colony. This was the Mis- 
 sissippi of New England, on her slow, brave march across 
 the continent. This was her great and unexplored West, 
 the terra incocjuiia^ which she feared to let her oldest 
 children explore and possess. More than once her Colo- 
 nial Assembly voted against this perilous enterprise. 
 Here it was that Pastor Hooker with his flock came out 
 from their long, painful travel through the dark, rough 
 wilderness, and looked down from these green slopes upon 
 the blue river and the winding meads of the valley. 
 Every one of these white, green-shaded towns, on either 
 side as we ascend, has its vivid associations with those 
 first years of peril, heroic daring, suffering, and patience. 
 Each has its own sagas^ its own legends and traditions, 
 like those that entertain the winter firesidfes of Iceland — ■ 
 stories of hair-breadth escapes, of hand-to-hand struggles 
 with the Indians, bears, wolves, panthers, and other 
 aborigines of the forests and mountains. Here is Bloody 
 Brook, with its record of massacre by the tomahawk, 
 which filled all the homes in New England with mourn- 
 iuo^ and lamentation. Onward a little farther are Tur- 
 
Incidents and Observations. 127 
 
 ner's Falls, v/here the swift and unsparing vengeance of 
 the English colonist fell upon the sleeping bands of their 
 fierce enemy. Here is old Deerfield, reposing in the 
 peaceful quiet of its ancient elms, with its very name 
 associated with one of the most stirring events in a cen- 
 tury of Indian w^arfare. A few years ago the house of 
 its first minister, which the Indians tried to burn over his 
 head, w^as still standing ; and its oak door, hacked with 
 tomahawks and perforated wuth bullets, is treasured 
 here as the most precious heir-loom of the village's his- 
 tory. 
 
 This is a mere glimpse at the historical background 
 that reflects an additional feature of interest upon the 
 natural scenery of the Connecticut. This scenery in it- 
 self is as picturesque and pleasing as any American river 
 can show. If it is not so bold and grand as that of the 
 Hudson through the Highlands, its pictures of beauty 
 are hung in a softer light and longer gallery, wdth no 
 blank or barren spaces between them. No river between 
 the two oceans, from sea to source, presents a greater 
 variety of landscapes, or in happier alternation and fjose. 
 The artists of the Hoyal Academy might learn something 
 from nature here in the art and taste of hanging pictures. 
 Of course, they cannot rival nature in having a mirror 
 for the floor of their gallery to reflect the masterpieces 
 oh its walls. For its whole length the river presents its 
 scenery in this double aspect. 
 
 It was a happy circumstance for us that we had the 
 best light possible to bring out these salient features to 
 their best perspective. The sky was overcast with thin 
 clouds, through the folds of which the July sun, between 
 
128 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 the showers, poured, itself unseen, a flood of golden light, 
 like a gladdening smile, now upon this wooded gorge, 
 then upon that bald mountain-top, and its green slopes 
 down. As a veiled artist looking at his own pictures 
 with a pride and admiration that illumine them, so the 
 sun, all through the showery day, beamed and gleamed, 
 invisible, upon a succession of infinitely-varied landscapes, 
 now on this, now on that side of the river, as if to show 
 to human eyes what its own loved best. Nature's statu- 
 ary, painting, and music alternated in the happiest suc- 
 cession on the right and left the whole length of the val- 
 ley. Mountains with fir-haired crowns, and bare, gray 
 faces, looked smiling at the green pastured hills on the 
 other side. Landscapes that laid their heads on the 
 heaving bosom of the purple clouds, rounded into view 
 and out of it at every turn. And here and there the lit- 
 tle mountain rivers and streams lent to the beauty of the 
 scene the music of their white cascades in all the varied 
 cadences of their tenor and treble. 
 
 For nearly a hundred miles of its winding course, the 
 Connecticut hems the opposite shores of Vermont and 
 New Hampshire with a broad seam of silver, which each 
 state wears as a fringe of light to its green and graceful 
 border. Then the river, narrowed to a fordable stream, 
 bends away towards its source from the railway route, 
 w^hich follows the Passumpsic branch, crossing and re- 
 crossing, and playing hide-and-seek with it through the 
 upper towns and villages of Vermont. The scenery to 
 the last, though formed of the same elements and painted 
 with the same foreground and background colors, is 
 varied at every mile by landscapes and views which at- 
 
Incidents and Observations, 
 
 129 
 
 tract and delight the eye as much as if each were the only 
 one of the kind to be seen on the journey. 
 
 I have said that New England will be found at home 
 on the Connecticut in ail the features, faculties, and senses 
 of her home life and character. She is at home on it 
 in all these qualities, as if living, acting, and moving 
 before her own mirror. Here you may see reflected her 
 industrial communities and activities, the endless fertili- 
 ties of her inventive genius, her manufacturing establish- 
 ments and educational institutions alternating with each 
 other, and both blending with a hardy and thrifty agri- 
 culture, in the varied scenery of human industry which 
 fills all the valleys with the beauty and joy of golden 
 harvests, and softens the rugged faces of a hundred 
 mountains wath meadow^ and p-asture for thousands of 
 sheep and cattle. Here is Hartford, at the head of navi- 
 gation for sloops and schooners, with small, if any, ca- 
 pacities for foreign commerce, and with small variety of 
 manufactures. It is one of the smaller cities even of 
 Nev/ England, and with no natural resources for faster 
 growth. But not a city in the wide world, of the same 
 population, can compare with it for the possession and 
 employment of capital in banks and other moneyed in- 
 stitutions. Here is Springfield, sitting quietly under its 
 venerable elms at the junction of four railways, with 
 green arbors built out by nature from the crescent hills 
 to command the best views of the river. Here it is, 
 with " The Arsenal,'' and '^ The House with Seven Ga- 
 bles," which New England genius has made immortal 
 structures. Here, a few miles above, is Chicopee, known 
 abroad as the cognomen of Ames in mechanical reputa- 
 9 
 
130 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 tion. Then conies the river Holyoke, where the whole 
 volume of the Conuecticut has been, as it were, Niag- 
 arized for countless spindles and machinery of every 
 faculty and motion. The mountain Holyoke, with its 
 famous Mary Lyon's School, looks dov/n from its educa- 
 tional heights upon these busy industries, and East- 
 hampton and Amherst, with their institutions of New 
 England learning, side by side with all these mechanical 
 activities, recognize and share in them the intellectual 
 fellowships of practical life. Here is Northampton, 
 shaded by the living elms that Edwards planted and sol- 
 emnized by the theology he preached — -an English town 
 in the characteristics of its social life. Hadley, Deer- 
 field, and Greenfield are agricultural towns, each with 
 the record of two centuries, which would make for it an 
 interesting volume of incident and experience. 
 
 Crossing the line of Massachusetts, the river shows on 
 either side some of the best sam.ple towns of Vermont 
 and New Hampshire. Vermont is virtually the oldest 
 daughter of Connecticut, and we pass through its Wind- 
 sors, Wethersfields, Hartlands, and Hartfords, almost in 
 the same order of succession as in the mother state. 
 These Green Mountain villao^es show " the stren^jth of 
 the hills " as a source of mental and industrial vigor to 
 their communities. These, the greenest in America, 
 produce and present most strikingly this characteristic. 
 They are vast beehives of ingenious industry all the year 
 through, with their cells as full of its honey in midwinter 
 as in midsummer. The highest a sheep can climb sends 
 it down with tlie wealth of its wool, as a bee laden at 
 upland flowers ; and green slopes, that wheels cannot 
 
Incidents and Observations. 131 
 
 mount, flow, as it were, with the milk of grazing herds. 
 Their rushing, dashing streams are all set to the music 
 of machinery, whose wheels beat time to the accents of 
 their flow. Each little river turns daily the pines of the 
 nearest mountain into the framework, flooring, and cov- 
 ering of a two-story house for distant districts void of 
 such timber. To feed the busy mills with it all the year 
 round is the work of the long winter months, when the 
 white Mountains resound and respond to each other 
 wdth the sound of the axe from mornin<2^ till niojht. As 
 the snow begins to soften at the approach of spring, 
 another busy industry is interpolated as an interesting 
 and profitable occupation. These snow-bound hills, as 
 stark and stiff as if girdled with the frigid zone, begin to 
 compete with the tropics, and to rival the products of the 
 warmest climates. They pit their hardy maples against 
 the cane-fields of Cuba and Louisiana, and • challenge 
 them to produce a sweeter sugar than their pellucid juices 
 supply. 
 
 These mountains are as fertile in the production of 
 mental as of manual industries. They set the machinery 
 of thought into ingeoious action to overcome what some 
 may call the inauspicious circumstances of climate and 
 soil. It would illustrate this fertility to take the census 
 of the inventions of minds that receive<l their first bent 
 and stimulus among these snow-bound hills. A single 
 instance will suffice to shov*^ this characteristic. Our 
 landlord at the White Kiver Junction, who carries on 
 two or three large hotels in the White Mountains, and 
 several farms and mills in Vermont, said that three boys, 
 who lived vsi^ith him successively on his homestead, be- 
 
132 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 came inventors of machinery of immense value to the 
 country. The first invented a self-acting jenny ; the sec- 
 ond, a self-operating mule, which saves sixty per cent, of 
 the manual labor once required for the same v^ork ; w^hile 
 the third produced a portable knitting-machine as labor- 
 savin "• as the sewinoc-machine. Within a few miles of this 
 point the sculptor Powers w^as born, and other men who 
 have made their mark in the world. All these varied and 
 blended characteristics make the scenery of the Connec- 
 ticut peculiarly interesting to the observant traveller. 
 
 THE ST. LAWRENCE AND QUEBEC. 
 
 John Quincy Adams, in a short speech to the Cana- 
 dians at Niagara Falls, said that Nature had too few of 
 such master- works to give one of them entire to a single 
 nation ; so she had divided this between two, in equal 
 shares. But, for five thousand miles, from one side of 
 the continent to the other, one may notice this happy ar- 
 rangement of division. Having ascended the Connecti- 
 cut valley to the Canadian line, we come to the beautiful 
 Lake Memphremagog, which, in a quiet summer day, 
 might well merit the name given by the Indians to another 
 lake in the same region, " tlie smile of the Great Spirit J' 
 And this is only one hasp in the azure jewelry which Na- 
 ture has furnished for covering and beautifying the seams 
 between the two territories from the Atlantic to the Pa- 
 cific. The rainbow over the Niagara spans the central 
 
Incidents and Observations. 133 
 
 gateway opening upon each. The St. Lawrence, the 
 Great Lakes, and rivers and waters of the farther west, 
 flowing diversely into two oceans, make, but hide, the 
 boundaries of the two national divisions; just as a com- 
 mon blood, language, religion and law blend, while they 
 bound, the life, character, and destiny of the two great 
 families of the English-speaking race. 
 
 Lake Memphremagog is a body of water between 
 thirty and forty miles in length, and from two to five in 
 breadth, with its bosom studded with islands beautifully 
 embossed. The scenery from the great hotel at its head 
 is like that of the Ehine from the Hotel Bellevue at Bonn. 
 Some of the mountains that soften into blue as they tower 
 up in the distance stand higher on their base than the 
 Rhenish peaks. One of these, the Owl's Head, measures 
 the height of three thousand feet above the level of the 
 lake. One of the largest hotels in the United States en- 
 tertains the visitors at this quiet and delightful summer 
 retreat, and a large two-story steamer gives all who wish 
 it an excursion of forty or fifty miles daily. 
 
 On crossing the line into Canada, a New England 
 traveller observes that Vermont and New Hampshire lap 
 over upon East Canada for a considerable distance, and 
 he notices for a while no marked distinction in the scenery 
 of industry and thrifty life and occupation. Hundreds 
 from these states have settled in the province and mingled 
 with its population, retaining their character and habits, 
 and impressing them upon the whole community. As we 
 proceed northward, we pass through sections where the 
 influence of the old French element becomes distinctly 
 marked. We are soon on the wide and dark battle- 
 
134 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 ground of the axe, where it is winning its slow conquests 
 over these northern forests w^hich have withstood the 
 march of civilization for two hundred 37ears. Here we 
 come into the region of log cabins, huts, and houses, and 
 one is almost surprised to find them so near the New 
 England border. It is interesting to see in them the out- 
 posts of civilized life, occupied by the hardy skirmishers 
 it deploys upon the wilderness to clear the way for the 
 grand march of populous towns and villages. 
 
 Here a field as large as Waterloo shows the marks of 
 the unsparing steel and fire. The defeated pines that 
 stood up to the battle, like serried ranks of grenadiers, 
 now lie upon each other, broken and blackened skeletons. 
 The field adjoining is the scene of a sharp and decisive 
 engagement ^\q years ago ; and the plough is beginning 
 to do its smoothing work, and to furrow it for its first crops 
 of grain. Another field, nearer to the woodman's cabin 
 camp, is the scene of his first encounter with the forest. 
 Ten years ago he smote it stoutly with steel and fire, and 
 now it is a green and level meadow ready for the scythe. 
 Every year he marches upon the flank of the forest, and 
 wins a new field with the axe. He follows slowly and 
 patiently with the plough. His wheat harvests deploy 
 year by year, and push back the wilderness. His log 
 cabin grows with their growth. It becomes a goodly 
 house, the home of a large and industrious family, and 
 the centre of a growing and thrifty village. 
 
 In a few hours a long range of blue mountains indi- 
 cated the course and nearness of the St. Lawrence, and 
 we were soon in sight of that mighty river and of the 
 Gibraltar of America. Both more than equalled our an- 
 
Incidents and Observations. 135 
 
 ticipatlon and conception. The traveller who has ever 
 seen the Bay of Naples and the oldest and strongest cities 
 of Europe, must be peculiarly impressed by the first sight 
 and second sight of Quebec. 
 
 There is not another such city iu either hemisphere, 
 when viewed in all its surroundings and aspects ; nor is 
 there such another river to build such a city on. An 
 American, who has only read of fortified towns in the 
 Old World, is filled by this at first sight with wonder and 
 astonishment. '' Is this really the American continent ? " 
 he will most likely ask himself, as he looks up from the 
 opposite shore to the steep mountainous blufi*, crowned 
 and girded with fortress upon fort, and fort upon battery, 
 from base to the topmost height. The city that belts the 
 foreshortened mountain, below and above the old gray 
 wall that divides it, seems at first view to have been 
 translated whole from the Old World. It makes a har- 
 monious and natural setting for the lofty fortress, and 
 conforms itself to bastions, breastworks, and batteries, 
 filling all the irregular spaces left for civil life and habita- 
 tion from the river upward. 
 
 The citadel is the best stand-point for the aspects of 
 nature which distinguish this prospect above any other 
 on the continent. Certainly, for natural scenery, em- 
 bracing in one vista all the elements that combine to 
 make a magnificent and charming view, no place can 
 exceed this. The eastward view from Stirling Castle 
 does not equal it. Arthur's Seat nor Edinburgh Castle 
 commands such a grand sweep of prospect, embracing 
 such varieties and combinations of features and aspects. 
 The characteristics of Scotch scenery from Marmion's 
 
136 Te^i-Mlmtte Talks. 
 
 stand-point are reproduced here on a larger scale. Here, 
 expanding in the view, is something more than ^' the 
 shores of Fife, Preston Bay, and Berwick Law." Burn- 
 tisland and all the other islands that float on the bosom 
 of the gallant Forth, " like emeralds chased in gold," 
 are overmatched on the broader bosom of this mighty 
 river by islands of nobler round and equal setting. The 
 nearest, tlie Isle of Orleans, is the first jewel of the river, 
 which embraces it with an arm of equal girth on either 
 side. It rounds up to a graceful eminence, crested with 
 woods and fertile fields, and sloping gently to the water's 
 0,^^^ for the whole circuit of thirty miles. On the right, 
 just across the river, a young Quebec is mounting a rocky 
 bluff of almost equal height, crowned with three im- 
 mense forts to match the old city in '^ martial show." On 
 the left, white villages, strung on one street, and marked 
 off by tin-spired churches, extend down the northern 
 shore. Over these and all the green, sloping expanse be- 
 tween, the eye may follow the undulating heights of the 
 Laurentian range, and find in them all that Scott de- 
 scribes. 
 
 '^ And westward far, in purer blaze, 
 On Ochill mountains fell the rays, 
 And as each heathy top they kissed, 
 It gleamed a purple ameth^^st." 
 
 But what is '' the gallant Forth " or "Father Thames," 
 the Khine or the Nile, to the St. Lawrence? or the river 
 of any continent to compare with it for its commercial 
 capacities, its affiliations and connections ? 
 
 Let us descend into the public garden, and from one 
 of the seats uuder the shadow of the twiu-faced monu- 
 
Incidents and Observations. 137 
 
 ment erected to the joint memory of Wolfe and Mont- 
 calm, look off upon the scene below. The river spreads 
 out before us a perfect cross. The St. Charles on one 
 side, and the broad arm of the great river put out on the 
 other around the Isle of Orleans, make a transverse at 
 right angles with the main or direct current. Looking 
 northward, between the masts of the great timber ships 
 at anchor, you see the smoke and red funnel of an ocean 
 steamer approaching. It comes up slowly and softly, 
 with hardly a ripple at its bow to its pier under the cita- 
 del, that looks down upon it from the lofty height as upon 
 a mere river yacht in size. 
 
 Yet that steamer registers three thousand tons, and is 
 only one of nearly thirty that stop at this port on their 
 way to and fro across the ocean. These suggest, but do 
 not measure, the capacities of this river. Let us apply 
 a standard that may help us to a better conception of 
 them. Suppose that Sandy Hook were the Straits of 
 Belle-Isle, and the Hudson were the St. Lawrence in 
 length and volume. Then, to be at an equidistance with 
 Quebec from the sea. New York should be at Buifalo, 
 and Albany at Detroit ; and this last point would not be 
 the head, but the scant half-way mark, of the navigation 
 of the river. This will help us to realize its capacity. 
 Keeping this measurement in view, remember that Mont- 
 real is not half way even in the navigable length of the 
 river. From that port, though nearly one thousand 
 miles from the ocean, the navigation of the St. Law- 
 rence extends fourteen hundred miles. The continu- 
 ity of its navigation from Duluth, on Lake Superior, to 
 the Straits of Belle-Isle, nearly twenty-four hundred 
 
138 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 miles, is complete. In the vital relationship that Nature 
 intended, the St. Lawrence is the jugular vein of all those 
 great American lakes and of the rivers that feed them. 
 Commercially, it sustains, or was created to sustain, this 
 relation and function to the best half of the continent, as 
 may be seen from another point of view. 
 
 Let us look at the relation which the St. Lawrence 
 establishes between Europe and that section of this con- 
 tinent most necessary to European countries. In all but 
 the article of cotton, this section produces what they 
 most want from America ; especially what England most 
 lacks and needs. It is the great grain, provision, and 
 timber-producing region. The most fertile corn-growing 
 states east of the Rocky Mountains abut upon the great 
 lakes, of which the St. Lawrence is the only ship-way to 
 the ocean. The best pine lands on the continent border 
 upon this vast contiguity of waters. There is no river 
 in America that has so many rapid tributaries, to furnish 
 mill-sites and water power as the St. Lawrence. Then, 
 from its mouth to the head of Lake Superior, the mineral 
 resources of the same region are proportionate to its ag- 
 ricultural productions and capacities. Its mines of iron, 
 copper, lead, and zinc are almost countless arid inexhaus- 
 tible. 
 
 Then, in addition to all these elements of commerce, 
 look at the character of the populations who people the 
 vast region bordering upon the waters that find their only 
 navigable pathway to the sea through the St. Lawrence. 
 Let the eye pass over these lake and river states, taking 
 in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, Ohio, 
 Northern Nevv^ York, and the tw^o Canadas. See how 
 
Incidents and Observations. 139 
 
 native American, English, Scotch, Irish, French, Ger- 
 man, and ScandiQavian — the best industrial elements in 
 the world • — make up the population of this immense 
 region, all uniting, in the peace and harmony of free in- 
 stitutions, to develope its endless resources. 
 
 Thus there is no river on the American continent that 
 approaches the commercial importance«and value of the 
 St. Lawrence to England, and Europe generally. Its 
 capacity and value are in the very infancy of their devel- 
 opment ; but in a few years they will show the world 
 what they are and may be. It is only just beginning to 
 be utilized in the sense applied by John Quincy Adams 
 to the Falls of Niagara — as a river provided by Nature 
 for two nations to share alike as their common roadway 
 to the ocean. As such a road, both have the same inter- 
 est to free it from all obstructions to the passage of their 
 sea-going ships. Both, separately or jointly, can do this. 
 Jointly, what could they not do ? If a Suez Canal were 
 needed around Niagara Falls, or around any other rapids 
 of the river, the two countries might make it the most 
 profitable work of international partnership ever accom- 
 plished. What a fitting memorial of the great consum- 
 mation of the Washington Treaty such a joint work would 
 be ! What would better grace the " new departure" of 
 the two nations taken at Geneva, than the sight of files of 
 ocean steamers floating their flags from the head of Lake 
 Superior down the St. Lawrence to the sea ! Looking 
 across to the three immense forts which the Mother Coun- 
 try is constructing with her own money on the opposite 
 ridge above Point Levis, one cannot but regret that she 
 did not give it to the widening and deepening of the Wei- 
 
140 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 land Canal, or to a work of like utility, in which her own 
 people might share equally with the Canadians, without 
 lessening the benefit the latter might derive from it. In 
 a word, there is no river in India, or in any other region 
 of the globe under the British crown, of such commercial 
 value to Eno;land as the St. Lawrence. 
 
 BIRTHPLACE OF RIP VAN WINKLE. 
 
 Communities, large and small, in various ages of the 
 world, have contended for the honor of giving birthplace 
 to men of fame — - especially to great authors. But some 
 of these writers, by the inbreathing power of their genius, 
 have created fictitious personages of more vigorous and 
 lasting vitality than even tlieir illustrious progenitors. 
 A thousand of common readers or listeners are well 
 acquainted with the name of Sancho Panza where one 
 has ever heard of Cervantes. Sindbad and Robinson 
 Crusoe are hearth-side words to half the children in 
 England and America ; but how few^ of them could tell 
 who wrote the story of those incomparable heroes to the 
 young? How^ many well-read people could say ofF-hand 
 what was the Christian name of the author of that most 
 admirable of all fictitious characters, '' Uncle Toby " ? 
 [Now, all who have been delighted, guided, strengthened, 
 or lighted by the lives and sentiments of these fictitious 
 personages, must be nearly as much interested in visiting 
 the houses in which they were born as in visiting the 
 
Incidents and Observations, 141 
 
 birthplaces of the authors of their being. Who would 
 not go a long way to see the room in which FalstafT or 
 Hamlet was born, and cradled, and brought up to the 
 full stature of his manhood? 
 
 Now, Rip Van Winkle is a celebrity whose name 
 and character are pretty well known in all countries that 
 have any literature of their own. And Rip was born in 
 Birmingham, and was the eldest of a considerable family, 
 begotten and reared in that town by Geoffry Crayon, 
 Esq., ne WashingtoQ Irving. The house is still a goodly, 
 white-faced building, standing two stories and a half in 
 height, with a modest front door and portico ; but it is 
 taken in from the sight and noise of all the streets — being 
 enclosed in the great brick quadrangle of Wiley's Gold 
 Pen Factory, of which it forms a kind of interior transept. 
 It seems to be an accidental felicity in its surroundings 
 that it is so paled with gold pens and entertained with 
 the music of their manufacture. A man of exuberant 
 fancy might be pardoned by common sense for at least 
 seeing in this coincidence a happy, if a mere mechanical, 
 tribute to such a fluent, graceful, and genial writer. 
 
 A few days ago I visited this birthplace of Rip Van 
 Winkle with the venerable Henry Van Wart, Esq., who 
 married the sister of Washington Irving, and who is now 
 nearly eighty-five years of age. Although the distance 
 was considerable, he walked it with me at a young man's 
 pace ; and, on the way, told me many things about his 
 distinguished brother-in-law that were never put in print 
 — going back to his very babyhood. It was a pleasant 
 incident of his infancy that, soon after he was christened 
 with the name of Washington, that man of beloved and 
 
142 Ten-MiJiute Talks, 
 
 pure renown was passing up Broadway, New York, 
 attended by a numerous procession of all ranks, ages, and 
 occupations. The nurse of his little namesake, with the 
 child in her arms, pushed her way through the crowd 
 that lined the sidewalks, and was standing within a few 
 feet of the general as he passed. He noticed the little 
 bead-eyed^ crowing youngster that was kicking out its 
 puggy toes, bouncing and biting its thumbs, and trying to 
 shout " hurrah !" with the rest. He paused a moment 
 to give the baby as kind and sunny a smile as a child- 
 less man could give to " somebody's child." At that 
 moment the nurse held out her charge towards him, and 
 said, " Please, sir, its name is Washington, and it was 
 called after you." The general instantly stepped out of 
 the line, laid his hand upon the head of little Irving, and 
 invoked a blessing upon his life, and passed on — little 
 thinking that the baby-life which* he had thus blessed 
 would become so illustrious in after years at home and 
 abroad. 
 
 Washington Irving had opened his literary career very 
 young and very brilliantly in the production of Knicker- 
 bocker's History of New York, and in several smaller 
 essays of his genius, when he was induced by his elder 
 brother, and other relations or friends, to enter upon a 
 commercial life in Liverpool. He was about as poorly 
 fitted, by lack of mental affinity and business habits, 
 for such a life, as any young man of his age could well 
 be. The time, too, was as unfortunate for the success 
 of the undertaking as they could have hit upon in the 
 choice of half a century. It was near the close of the last 
 great French War, and by the time that the new and hope- 
 
Incidents and Observations. 143 
 
 fill firm had launched out beyoud their depth in the flood 
 that was to lead on to fortune, the great collapse and 
 crash came, and their house came to the ground, like 
 hundreds of others all over the kingdom. Washiog- 
 ton fell deeper than his brothers — for he fell from a 
 greater height of hope. They lost only money — as tea 
 thousand others had done in the wide overthrow, and lost 
 it as honestly as the best of them — but he lost more, 
 and what money could not express or restore. A lieavy, 
 dark cloud settled down upon his genius. It seemed like 
 a total eclipse, behind which his mind could emit but 
 thin and feeble annular scintillations. It shut off from 
 his mental reach that hopeful, enthusiastic life he lived 
 at home in America. All his capacities and prospects 
 as an author were blighted, apparently forever. He had 
 lost all that inspiration and glow of intellectual activity 
 which once stimulated and rewarded his ambition to 
 excel as a writer. 
 
 In this state of mental obscuration, weakness, and de- 
 spondency, Washington Irving went to Birmingham, to 
 spend a few months in this very house, then the home of 
 his brother-in-law, Henry Van Wart, also the friend and 
 companion of his early youth in Tarrytown, on the Hudson. 
 Everything that could be said or done to recover his mind 
 from this eclipse was said and done in his sister's house by 
 all the members of the family circle. He tried, and they 
 tried their best to break the spell upon him ; and when 
 he was in his happiest frolics w^ith his little nephews and 
 nieces, and his face was all aglow with the radiance of 
 his affection for the children, the bonds seemed to relax, 
 and his mind to emerge from the Doubting Castle which 
 
144 Ten-Mimite Talks, 
 
 had held him so fast in its darkness. Then he would 
 retire to his room, and, with pen in hand, see if his 
 strength had returned ; but it was in vain ; the spell was 
 still upon him. His mind gave no sign of his old genius ; 
 not a thought touched by its inspiration would flow^ at 
 the command of that feathered wand which once sum- 
 moned beautiful conceptions and images from the vasty 
 deep of a fluent imagination. 
 
 This condition had lasted for several months, when, 
 one soft and lovely evening in June, Mr. Van Wart, in 
 their usual walk, made a special effort to encourage him 
 to shake off this nightmare from his spirits — to induce 
 him to believe that he could do it by sheer force of wdll. 
 But every argument, incitement, and encouragement was 
 in vain. He said he had put his mind under every 
 possible influence that was calculated to emancipate it 
 from the bondage, but without any success. Pie had 
 visited the choicest places to commune with Nature, but 
 got no relief. He had laid himself down on his back by 
 the hour on the soft and sunny slopes of the green hills, 
 and looked up into the gentle June clouds at play upon 
 the broad prairies of the blue sky, and tried, O, how 
 hard ! to mount them with his thoughts, and soar away 
 upon their tinted wings into some far-off region of fancy, 
 where his mind should break away from the long fasci- 
 nation of despair, and be itself once more in the freedom 
 and glory of its first ambition. He had followed with 
 his eye and ear the happy lark, as it lifted itself up on 
 its morning song into the blue of heaven, as if it bore 
 the gweetest of human joys, to the home of the angels, 
 and he wished it could carry up to them on its wings a 
 
Incidents and Observations. 145 
 
 whisper from his soul for help from its bondage. Then 
 he had sauntered by the meadow brooks, and listened to 
 the music they made to the meditating cows that lay 
 upon their daisy-freckled banks. He had listened, with 
 attentive but enfeebled faculties, by burns and braes, in 
 groves full of song-birds, and in all places that w^ould 
 once have stirred his mind to the poetic pulse of thought 
 and feeling ; but it had all been in vain. When he took 
 up his pen, on returning from this communion with 
 Nature, that deadening spell was upon him still, and 
 he feared that he never should be able to shake it off 
 and resume his literary life, which had commenced so 
 promisingly. 
 
 There was no use arguing against this sentiment and 
 presentiment of mental weakness and obscuration ; but 
 Mr. Van Wart adopted a happier expedient. As it were, 
 he took Irving's arm on a walk that outflanked the 
 darkness of the eclipse. He took him around it back to 
 the days and Avalks of their youth on the Hudson, and 
 touched those memories within him Avhich the mind of 
 manhood and of old age holds freshest and dearest, 
 whatever clouds or floods may come between. He took 
 him to those places which were the play-grounds of their 
 childhood, and of the happy years between it and the 
 first of life's bright suuimer. Sleepy Hollow was their 
 favorite resort — for its people were as unique and odd 
 in their ways and looks as the strange valley itself. In 
 fact, it was the abode of the queerest characters that 
 were ever gathered together within the same space. 
 Such quaint Dutchmen, in speech, dress, and habits, could 
 not be found elsewhere in the whole country. Their 
 10 
 
146 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 sayings and doings had given the two yonng men rich 
 practice in recitative. The Hollow was full of live 
 stories when they were young. It was just the place to 
 take Irving to in order to bring the sun of his youth to bear 
 upon his darkness. His brother-in-law recalled to him 
 the laughable incidents they had themselves witnessed 
 there ; the oddest characters of the valley, the ridiculous 
 legends and customs, habits, and sayings, and idioms that 
 a grave man even could not hear described without 
 laughing the tears into his eyes. 
 
 Irving laughed, internally, from tlie crown of his head 
 to the sole of his foot ; and the walls of his Doubting 
 Castle crumbled and fell. The sun was still behind the 
 clouds, and it now pierced and scattered them, and shone 
 in upon him with all the warmth and light of his brightest 
 and happiest days. He retired to his room while it was 
 yet dusk. He put pen to paper, and thoughts came with 
 a rush, faster than he could write them — all the faster, 
 seemingly, for being fettered so long by the ice of his 
 long mental despondency. All night long he plied his 
 pen as it never moved before. Sleepy Hollovv^, with all 
 its eccentric life and legends, stood revealed before him 
 as he wrote. Its shapes and souvenirs all merged into 
 one character, and on that he painted into the short hours 
 of the slumbering household. At every one of them that 
 •image, quaint and olden, showed a new feature under his 
 touch. The June sun, at its earliest rising, looked in 
 through the shutters, and saw him where he sat at its 
 last rays the evening before. When the family were all 
 astir, and breakfast awaited their gathering at the table, 
 he entered the room radiant with the old light of his 
 genius and intellect. He came with his hands full of 
 
Incidents and Observations. 147 
 
 the sheets he had written while they were all asleep. 
 He said it had all come back to him ; Sleepy Hollow had 
 awakened him from his long, dull, desponding slumber ; 
 and then he read the first chapters of '' Rip Van Winkle," 
 the character that came to him in the visions of the night, 
 after the conversation of the previous evening. 
 
 It was interesting to see the breakfast room in which 
 Irving read, from the still wet sheets, the story of Rip 
 Van Winkle, and to stand in that room with the host of 
 the author of that distinguished celebrity, who could re- 
 member and describe the very expression of his guest, 
 the new radiance of hope and gladness that set his face 
 aglow, as he came through that door with his manuscript 
 in his hand. Nor was it a temporary return of his 
 genius ; it flowed more spontaneously than ever, and 
 Rip Van Winkle was not its only offspring in that house. 
 The Sketch Book was born in the same room, though it 
 received some of its development in other localities. 
 Then there were scores of unwritten novelettes which he 
 read off from his mind to his little nephews and nieces, 
 who gathered around his sofa of an evening to hear them. 
 He would compose fascinating stories about fairies for 
 them, and read them off just as if they were in print. 
 When he was in the midst of the improvised tale the 
 Avhole family would softly approach and form an outer 
 circle behind the children, and listen with their interest 
 to the story. 
 
 Take it all in all, we doubt if any other house in 
 Birmingham could possess more interest to a well-read 
 visitor than the birthplace of Rip Van Winkle, which 
 we have here attempted to present to the reader as it 
 was presented to us. 
 
148 Ten-Mznute Talks. 
 
 THE COMMENCEMENT CAENIVAL AT 
 OXFORD. 
 
 Many Americans have witnessed the carnival at Eome, 
 and have been astonished at what they saw and heard. It 
 has amazed them that the whole population of a great 
 city, rich and poor, educated and ignorant, could give 
 themselves up to such silly and noisy vagaries. But the 
 carnival at Eome does not equal the Oxford Commence- 
 ment in strange incongruities ; for the great masses of 
 the Eternal City are frivolous and characterless, amused 
 with the lowest forms of vulgar fun. The higher classes, 
 who share the grotesque anarchy of the hour with them, 
 do it to increase the popular enjoyment. But the Com- 
 mencement hour at Oxford is produced by a far different 
 set of actors, and for the enjoyment or amazement of a far 
 different set of spectators. In these characteristics there 
 is nothing elsewhere in the wide world to compare with 
 it. Fewer Americans have witnessed it than its vulgar 
 competitor at Rome. But all reading men have heard 
 of it, and perhaps many of them hope to see it some day. 
 I once realized this hope, and saw what I had never seen 
 described to the life, and what I shall not attempt to de- 
 scribe myself so as to convey anything more than an 
 approximate idea of the scene. 
 
 I deemed myself highly favored in procuring a ticket 
 of admission many days beforehand, through one of the 
 venerable professors of the university. A citizen of our 
 young country, who is susceptible of historical impres- 
 
Incidents and Observations. 149 
 
 sions, feels them vividly in this old, gray commonwealth 
 of colleges. They make for him a more awe-inspiring 
 presence than Napoleon assigned to the Pyramids of 
 Egypt. Their time-eaten walls, showing their deep 
 wrinkles through the fondling ivy, seem permeated with 
 a thousand years of the world's best learning. Grand 
 histories and grander lives of great men have left their 
 footprints around these august fountains of erudition. 
 One might think that this deep and solemn presence of 
 glorious ages, dead but speaking, would make even young 
 men walk softly under it, or quiet the flow of boisterous 
 mirth to a harmless current. Of all the buildings in 
 which such an influence might be expected to operate in 
 this way, the University Theatre would seem to have the 
 pre-eminence. This is the very Mars' Hill of Oxford — 
 the arena where its athletes and pretorian bands of Mi- 
 nerva have contended for prizes which w^ere as guerdons 
 of immortality to ambitious competitors. 
 
 I was early at the door of this famous edifice, but not 
 so early as a hundred others, from all parts of the king- 
 dom, half of whom were probably graduates, coming up 
 to pay their tributes of aflection and admiration to Alma 
 Mater. Every moment for half an hour at the entrance 
 swelled the gathering crowd to at least a thousand men, 
 all pressing towards the door. When it at last opened, 
 there was the regular English rush, like the dash of a 
 storming party against a fortified gate or bastion. In 
 less than a minute, seemingly, the crowd occupied every 
 foot of standing space of the paved pit or arena of the 
 theatre. The circular seats that arose to the gallery 
 proper from within a few steps of this level, were 
 
150 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 already nearly filled with the beauty and grace of the 
 realm, representing hundreds of its best families. Many 
 of them were the mothers or sisters of the young athletes, 
 or other aspirants for the honors the day was to decide 
 or bestow. This surrounding cloud of witnesses, illu- 
 mined and tinted with all that could give lustre and love- 
 liness to beauty, grew more and more compact until its 
 variegated crest and fringe belted the entire space be- 
 tween the arena and gallery, with the exception of a 
 small section in the centre reserved for the great dons 
 of the diiferent colleges or halls. A few minutes of al- 
 most embarrassing waiting followed. Speaking geo- 
 graphically or /le^ographically only, heaven and earth 
 were brought very closely together, or the black, sway- 
 ing crowd of men on the pit floor, and the rustling, flut- 
 tering mountain, tinted with every hue, that arose by 
 gentle acclivity along three sides of the building. The 
 two clouds seemed to act and react upon each other in 
 this close and unmodified presence. For ten minutes a 
 thousand men had nothing else to do than look into the 
 faces of nearly as many ladies, all in the bloom of Eng- 
 lish beauty and fashion, who, in turn, were shut up to the 
 scenery of manly life that filled the arena below. The 
 electricity of a reciprocal interest might be imagined 
 from the contact of so many eyes all aglow with the light 
 of the hour. 
 
 Did any one ever hear the crack of a dozen thunder- 
 claps, and the rush and roar of a black tempest out of 
 clear sky? Then it was nearest like what we saw and 
 heard as suddenly in this grand old theatre at the mo- 
 ment I have described. The door of the upper gallery 
 
Incidents and Observations. 151 
 
 burst open, and the under-graduate " gods'' rushed in like 
 the storming force on the E.edan. The fierce and im- 
 petuous host was led by a red-haired hero, in a long and 
 armless toga of seedy black, flowing out from his shoul- 
 ders like the dun banner of a buccaneer or brigand. With 
 hair streaming in the same direction, and eyes full of fire, 
 he rushed down the gallery, shouting, " Order ! order ! " 
 as if the circular mountain of a thousand ladies, and the 
 thousand quiet gentlemen at its base, were engaged in a 
 Kilkenny contest. He led the storming force, and no 
 thousand men ever dashed into the breach of a be- 
 leaguered city with louder vociferation. The whole read- 
 ing world knows how Oxford muscle is trained for boat- 
 racing, and what feats it performs in this line of exer- 
 cise. But the feats of lung-power achieved in this grand 
 old theatre by the under-graduates surpass anything ac- 
 complished on the Thames at the great boat-race. It 
 is well known and acknowledged that no crowd of men 
 in the world can discharge such a volley of cheers as the 
 same number of Englishmen. Nowhere else can you 
 hear such thundering cataracts of the human voice. For- 
 eign sovereigns visiting England are struck v/ith aston- 
 ishment at this prodigious outpour. Who heard it in 
 London when a million gave an English cheer to the 
 gentle, blue-eyed Alexandra will never forget it. The 
 Persian Shah will remember it above all the incidents 
 and pageants of his receptions. One listening to the 
 roar and crash of voices in the Oxford theatre on this 
 occasion might imagine that it was the training-school in 
 which this great lung-power of the entire nation was 
 developed to such unparalleled volume and vociferation , 
 
152 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 There could not have been more than a thousand under- 
 graduate tongues engaged in the explosion. Bat it was 
 absolutely terrific. These young men, doubtless, be- 
 longed to the best families in the kingdom ; eujoying and 
 acquiring all the refinements the best social education 
 could impart. Here was, perhaps, the most highly edu- 
 cated and cultivated company of ladies and gentlemen 
 that any object could bring together, to witness and ad- 
 mire their acquisitions and deportment. Not one of 
 those young gownsmen in the gallery would have opened 
 his mouth to one of those elegantly-dressed ladies with- 
 out modulating his voice to its most polished accents. 
 But now his tongue, and a thousand like it, were un- 
 bridled to the wildest liberty. Their crash, claps, and 
 rattling volleys were astounding. The mothers, sisters, 
 and friends-apparent of nearer relation, looked up with 
 manifest astonishment at actors in this carnival w^hom 
 they recognized. 
 
 In a few minutes these voice-volleys assumed a new 
 force and direction. The obstreperous gods of the gal- 
 lery, in their wildest liberty, are very fastidious, and 
 brook nothing common or unclean in the crowd of spec- 
 tators. Their eager eyes quickly detect any trifling 
 variation in the regulation dress, and pour down upon 
 the victim's head a crushing avalanche of indignation. 
 Such a victim they soon discovered standing very near 
 me — a plucky young Englishman in salt-and-pepper 
 pants. Instantly the batteries of the gallery opened upon 
 Lii^it. The hot hail of indignation fell down upon him in 
 hissing volleys. I never before realized what the finger 
 of scorn could mean. Here were a thousand pointed at 
 
Incidents and Observations. 153 
 
 the victim from three sides of the gallery ; and every one 
 of them seemed to crack and snap with an electric dis- 
 charge of scorn. The thunder was equal to the light- 
 ning, and no tempest in the natural world was ever fuller 
 of both. The w^hole assembly of spectators followed the 
 direction of these surcharged fingers, and recognized the 
 fated object with increasing sympathy or interest. He 
 stood in stout defiance against the attack for a long time. 
 Being very near, I watched his face to see if the light- 
 ning had struck him. Occasionally a streak of crimson 
 ran down his cheeks ; but he stood firm, as if determined 
 to brave it out till the storm was exhausted. One of the 
 file-leaders of the gallery, seemingly astonished at this 
 obstinacy, and taking it to be ignorance of the cause of 
 the attack, took off his black gown and w^aved it at the 
 man, as if to show him that he had come in without the 
 regulatiou garment. But in doing this he showed his 
 own salt-and-red-pepper pants, which nullified the force 
 of his expostulation. For several minutes the battle 
 raged with increasing fury. The bombarded man stood 
 proud, firm, and defiant. At last, as nothing could be 
 done until the tempest ceased, a policeman made his way 
 to the object of all this wrath, and conducted him out of 
 the building ; and his exit was marked by rounds of 
 cheers that would have done sufficient honor to the fall 
 of Sebastopol. 
 
 Hardly a minute elapsed after this incident before 
 another filled the house w^ith still more emphatic uproar. 
 The masters of the twenty-one colleges, headed by the 
 Yice-Chancellor of the University, and followed by a 
 procession of distinguished scholars, now entered the 
 
154 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 south door, and moved up through the crowd to what 
 might be called the throne-end of the hall. With them 
 came the proctors and other dignitaries, brought more 
 directly into disciplinary relation to the students. Now 
 for the moment of high carnival. Every under-graduate 
 tongue is free. All the repressions of a year are removed ; 
 all the pent-up feelings may have their outburst ; and 
 they did with marvellous force. They poured down upon 
 the procession of dons in crimson robes such a fall of 
 bursting groans and hissing rockets of derision as seemed 
 to stun their march. What particular masters or proc- 
 tors were meant and hit by these shells of indignation 
 may possibly have been known to themselves, though 
 the conscience must have taken the place of the ear to 
 reach this conclusion. But all this belonged to the car- 
 nival. The grand dignitaries of the university walked 
 this gantlet with perfect equanimity, and ascended to 
 their seats with suave and smiling dignity, just as if 
 the whole scene were a part of the regular programme. 
 As bands play at great dinners between and during the 
 courses, so the gallery-gods seasoned the exerciseis at their 
 sweet will and taste, cheering and hissing ad libitum. 
 First in order was the conferring of titles and honors on 
 eminent scholars, in short speeches in Latin. Cheers or 
 groans from above responded without fear or favor, or 
 7 egard to any distinction w^hich a great reputation had 
 won. Cheers for "The young ladies;" for "Engaged 
 ladies ;" for ''Married ladies," alternated with cheers or 
 npn ^placet voices responding to the honors conferred. 
 W iicn a distinguished Edinburgh professor's name was 
 announced for an LL. D., one of the gods shouted, '' Whp 
 
Incidents and Observations. 155 
 
 is he ? What has he done ? '^ The same cross-fire was 
 kept up during the essays and orations of the graduates. 
 Midway in the utterance of a Latin sentence, " Three 
 cheers for the lady in blue ! " or some other outburst, 
 would drown the speaker's voice. 
 
 Taking it all in all, considering the place, the actors, 
 spectators, and influences which one might think should 
 affect its character, the Oxford Commencement or Com- 
 memoration must surpass the carnival at Kome in many 
 stranger incongruities. 
 
GLIMPSES BY THE WAYSIDE 
 OF HISTORY. 
 
 157 
 
EISE AND PROGRESS OF '' WE," OR OF 
 THE NATIONAL SENTIMENT. 
 
 Whatever was the length of each of the six days of 
 the creation, whether each was equal to our week, month, 
 year, or century, the whole period the six represented had 
 elapsed before there was a human We living and mov- 
 ing upon the earth. We say a human TFe, for there was 
 another, an almighty and eternal We, breathing forth the 
 vast and varied creations of its omnipotence. The Crea- 
 tor had formed and fashioned the material world up to 
 every feature and function of its present structure. He 
 had set the sun, and moon, and stars in their places ; He 
 had divided and distributed the waters, the mountains, 
 hills, valleys, and plains, and perfected all the planetary 
 machinery and movements for the alternation of seasons 
 and th ediversification of climates, soils, mineral and agri- 
 cultural productions ; He had stocked the seas, rivers, and 
 streams with fish, and the fields and forest with beasts and 
 birds, of every variety known to them now ; He had caused 
 the green herb and the green tree, of every kind of shade, 
 flower, and fruit, to grow out of the ground, to delight the 
 si^ht and taste of the after-created beinoj who was to 
 possess and enjoy them all ; and not only herbs, and 
 plants, and shrubs, but trees, bearing fruit of their kind, 
 had grown up to full maturity from the ground, and had 
 filled Eden with their flower and flavor before the garden 
 
 159 
 
i6o Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 had received its keeper ; He had done all this before He 
 revealed the great Weliead of the Universe ; before He 
 said, " Let Us make man in Our image." All the pre- 
 ceding creations, animate and inanimate, were each sin- 
 gle and simple in its individuality, in its being and object. 
 One Power spoke them into existence, with the utterance 
 of one omnipotent personality. But Adam was to be, 
 not only the first and fountain-head of all human societies, 
 but to be a trinity in himself, in the endowment and ex- 
 ercise of three distinct natures. Hence there seems a 
 reason, that a finite mind may grasp, why the Creator, 
 when He came to breathe into His crowning work, a liv- 
 ing, sentient soul, should say, " Let Us make man ; " 
 as if to impart to him a being resembling the personal 
 constitution of the Godhead. 
 
 But He who made him, and gave him a physical, in- 
 tellectual, and moral nature, endowed with their triune 
 sense, emotion, and action, said that it was not good for 
 man to be alone when thus constituted. He had proved 
 this condition by actual 'experience. The Scripture his- 
 tory gives no intimation as to the length of this probation 
 of solitude. There was a time, we cannot know how 
 long, when Adam was alone. The trees of Eden were 
 full of birds of every plumage and voice, and they sang 
 to his listening ears the best songs of their delight. 
 Every beast that now walks the earth, walked in his 
 sight, and offered him its best companionship ; but he 
 was still alone ; he could not say We with one likest 
 himself of them all. Even if he had been created with 
 the physical nature only that he w^ore, he could not have 
 had a fellow-feeling with the most sagacious and domes- 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. i6i 
 
 tic animal that he met in his walks ; he could not have 
 said, looked, or felt We with the horse, dog, or ape. 
 
 If it may be said with reverence, his Creator could 
 sympathize with his solitude in the sentiment or remem- 
 brance of a personal experience. In many prayers and 
 spiritual songs that have moved the hearts and lips of 
 Christian men and women, the idea is put forth, that 
 there was a time when God himself was alone; that 
 there was a time when He, too, said of Himself what He 
 said to the first man, that it was not good for Him to be 
 alone ; not good for the glory of His grace and for the 
 permeation of the universe with the light and life of His 
 love. So He created, for His owm companionship and 
 service, angels and ministering spirits of various rank 
 and duty. He now created for Adani a companionship 
 as well fitted to him as a help-meet and ministering spirit. 
 It was a human being, of the same flesh and blood ; and 
 the first husband gave to the first wife on earth a name 
 which no other wife could or ever did bear, for its sub- 
 lime and beautiful meaning. He had given her at first 
 sight a genus-name, simply signifying her species, sex, 
 and relation to himself. It meant but a little more than 
 a human female. At what particular point in their 
 mutual experience he gave her the other name she was 
 to bear and be known by through time and eternity, we 
 cannot know. Perhaps it was at the birth of their first 
 child, that, seeing in a new vision her relationship to a 
 race of human beings that was to cover the earth, he 
 called her Eve, No language, living or dead, can supply 
 a word of more wide and beautiful significance than that 
 Hebrew monosyllable. No one not well versed in He- 
 ll 
 
i62 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 brew can grasp tlie whole of that significance, and not 
 one in a hundred can express it in English. Moses did 
 not fully unfold it in the reason he assigned to Adam in 
 thus naming his wife, nor have any Greek, Latin, or 
 English translations made the meaning of the term more 
 clear and comprehensive. Eve, in Adam's mind and in 
 Adam's word, meant the Living One^ just as Jehovah 
 means the The Being One, in all the tenses of existence. 
 When her first-boni lay on her bosom, and when he 
 gazed upon the lovely beauty of her young motherhood, 
 and called her JEve^ he saw in her, not the living one 
 only, but the life-producing life of all that were to live 
 on earth. 
 
 Thus Adam and Eve were the first human We that 
 walked the earth and breathed the odor of its first flowers 
 in wedded life. The happy pair were the first to say of 
 the joys of that life, our love, our home, our children, 
 our hopes, our lot in the here and hereafter. From that 
 primeval We radiate all the concentric circles of human 
 society yet formed ; and the last and largest in the history 
 of the race will have its genesis in the same source. We 
 may find an instructive and interesting subject of reflec- 
 tion in tracing the progress and development of these 
 expanding circles and spheres of its sentiment, action, and 
 organization. The second circle in its expansion was 
 the first human family. Here the Scripture account gives 
 us but scant material for conjecture, as to the number of 
 children included in that first family circle. Cain and 
 Abel had evidently come to what we should call middle 
 manhood, before the blood of the first murder stained the 
 earth. It would seem that each had chosen, and pursued 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 163 
 
 for some time, a special occupation for himself, as a per- 
 manent business for life. Caiu went forth, and went a 
 long way, from the scene of his great sin ; from the com- 
 panionship of that home he had darkened and alienated 
 by his deed. He formed in his self-banishment the sec- 
 ond family circle of which we have any mention. The 
 memory of his crime, and his ever-present sense of guilt, 
 doubtless, not only exiled himself, but his family, from all 
 intercourse with his father's house. His mother gave 
 birth to another son, whom she called Seth, or a suhstitute 
 for the murdered Abel. In him we have the record of 
 the third human family that now began to multiply them- 
 selves simultaneously within a certain district of country, 
 probably separated from each other by long distances, on 
 account of their pastoral occupation. The spirit and 
 bludgeon of Cain soon came into active exercise, appar- 
 ently not so much in the act of war between clans, as in 
 violence and bloodshed between individuals. Indeed, up 
 to the day that Noah entered the Ark, we have no inti- 
 mation in the Scripture narrative that either a nation, 
 or even a clan, of any considerable population, had been 
 formed. The social principle appears to have been of 
 feeble attraction, operating very slowly upon the scat- 
 tered families given to a nomadic life. The only per- 
 manent habitation we read of was the city which Cain 
 built, very likely for defence against the avengers of his 
 brother's blood, which, like Banquo's ghost, reddened 
 before his eyes in frequent and fearful apparitions of his 
 guilt. It is very doubtful if any one clan or community, 
 numbering a hundred persons, had planted themselves in 
 one permanent city of habitation before the Flood, so as 
 
164 Ten-Mimitc Talks. 
 
 to have what we call, in homely phrase, a town feeling, 
 or enough of it to say we and our with the common sen- 
 timent and in the common interest of a municipal popu- 
 lation. 
 
 With regard to the whole population of the human 
 race at the time of the Flood, we have but few and un- 
 certain data for estimation. We have only the basis for 
 an approximately correct calculation, in the space of time 
 allotted to them for multiplying and replenishing the 
 earth. This period is assumed to have been about fifteen 
 hundred years. At what ratio did they increase within 
 this space? This we can only estimate by the data de- 
 duced from comparisons with familiar facts in the subse- 
 quent history of mankind. In the iirst place, then, the 
 Scripture narrative does not intimate that mankind in- 
 creased more rapidly before than after the Flood. Only 
 one case of antediluvian polygamy is recorded ; and if 
 polygamy were common, we know that in countries in 
 which that system exists there are, in the general average, 
 no more wives nor children, in a given population, than 
 where only one wife is allowed. Nor does the great age 
 of the antediluvians seem to have made any perceptible 
 difference in this matter. To be sure, only the male 
 heirs of the family name and estate are mentioned ; but 
 there is no reason to suppose that either Adam or Methu- 
 selah had more children than Jacob or David. Noah 
 had no daughters at all, and only three sons. Then a 
 most fearful state of demoralization, violen.ce, and blood- 
 shed prevailed among the antediluvians, which must have 
 decimated the population, and made its increase very fee- 
 ble and slow. Taking these facts into consideration, 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History, 165 
 
 their population, at the time of the Flood, did not prob- 
 ably exceed twenty-five hundred persons. It is almost 
 certain that no confederation, nor community, that could 
 be called a nation, had been organized ; that no national 
 sentiment nor strong local feeling had been developed 
 among them. They were doubtless divided into small 
 nomadic pastoral tribes and predatory bands, living on 
 the plunder of men and beasts, with a few walled or 
 stockaded villages built for safety. They sunk so deep 
 in the most degraded demoralization and wickedness, that 
 only one righteous man could be found among them all. 
 Indeed, one can hardly conceive that even the ordinary 
 family affections existed among them ; so that, in very 
 deed, Noah and his small family were the only circle of 
 human beings that could and did say we in its true mean- 
 ing, when the door of the ark was closed upon them. 
 As it beat about, rudderless and pilotless, over the waters, 
 they not only formed in themselves the only source for 
 the perpetuation of mankind, but they constituted the 
 only we^ the only society, saved from the wreck of the 
 drowned ^vorld. To follow the gradual development of 
 that society-germ through its successive concentric cir- 
 cles of expansion, will form an interesting subject of fur- 
 ther study and reflection. 
 
1 66 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 THE ''WE ' OF THE EARLIEST NATION. 
 
 In pursuing the " Rise and Progress of We," no better, 
 and, indeed, no other, history of the earliest nations can 
 be found than the Scripture narrative supplies. We 
 shall, therefore, rely entirely upon the data which the 
 Bible contains, in touching upon passages of that history. 
 
 When Noah went forth from the ark, his small family 
 constituted the only human We, left alive on the earth to 
 people it with its various races. However the posterity 
 of Adam may have diverged into different clans before 
 the Flood, they had all converged into his little circle of 
 eight persons. No man of the antediluvian world was 
 better fitted than himself, not by righteousness of life 
 merely, but by intellectual enlightenment and practical 
 experience, to head the human race in this narrow gap 
 of its existence. Not a thought worth anything to man 
 was drowned in the Deluge. Not an art, not an occupa- 
 tion w^as lost. On the contrary, before the fountains of 
 the great deep were broken up, or the windows of heaven 
 were opened, Noah had acquired and employed an amount 
 of mechanical science and skill exceeding all the outside 
 world possessed at that moment. He had had a divine 
 Teacher, and follow^ed rules which no human being of 
 that day could impart in building the ark. There was 
 more art, genius, thought, and perhaps even labor, put 
 into that structure, than into all the other antediluvian 
 edifices raised upon the earth. Considering the tent, 
 pastoral, or nomadic life of those times, we may reasona- 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 167 
 
 bly believe that there was more timber framed into the 
 ark than had ever been used in the dwellings of mankind 
 up to the day that the patriarch went into it with his 
 family. And when he left it, anchored but not wrecked, 
 on Mount Ararat, he left in it more of mechanical skill 
 and architectural thought and genius than was drowned 
 by the waters of the Flood. 
 
 Here, then, we have a new point of departure for the 
 human race. At fifteen hundred years from the first 
 man, we find, where Noah left the ark, the line of their 
 continuation " like footsteps hidden by a brook, but seen 
 on either side." The great rudderless and mastless hull, 
 aground on the mountain's crown, was not only the 
 masterpiece, but all ihe pieces of the old world's art in 
 one. What all the wild and domestic animals he pre- 
 served were w^orth for the perpetuation and improvement 
 of their species, it was worth as a storehouse of models 
 for the race of man now starting anew on the high road 
 of progress and civilization. The modes and models for 
 framing timber into permanent houses, and in vessels for 
 sea and river, that towering hulk supplied. In Noah and 
 his three sons was a store-mind, full of the mechanical 
 skill, and genius, and taste for ship-building and house- 
 building. Let us see how soon, and in what way, they 
 employed or taught that skill and genius. And we will 
 follow closely the Scripture account, diverging neither to 
 the right nor left hand from the narrative until we come 
 abreast of some well-defined current of what is called 
 profane history. 
 
 First after the Flood we have a list of the seed-germs 
 of the nations that Avere to fill the earth. And the fact 
 
1 68 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 is worthy of notice, that Ham, whose posterity Noah is 
 thought to have cursed on awaking from his wine, is the 
 central and most important figure in the triad of patri- 
 archs who were thus to people the world with their de- 
 scendants. It would seem as if the inspired record bore 
 designed testimony and reproof against Noah for uttering 
 such wish and words against an innocent son for what 
 was, doubtless, an act of tender reverence, not only to his 
 father, but to his two elder brothers, who were only 
 entitled by age, and the duty attaching to it, to take 
 or prescribe the proper steps in so painful and distressing 
 emergency. However the defenders of African slavery 
 may have regarded the seeming imprecation uttered by 
 the patriarch while his mind and moral sense were still 
 confused and perverted by the influence of strong drink, 
 nothing is clearer than that God, so far from making 
 the children of Ham inferior in position to the children 
 of his two elder brethren, gave them a higher placing in 
 the world as centres of population and power. Nimrod, 
 a kind of Alexander the Great in his time, was Ham's 
 grandson, " and the beginning of his kingdom was Babel," 
 and only the beginning ; for he went on building other 
 cities. Asshur, probably his first-born son, " went forth 
 out of that land and built Nineveh," and other cities 
 called large in the Scripture history. While Ham's 
 eldest son was thus founding the great kingdoms of 
 Assyria on the Euphrates, his second son, Mizraim, was 
 establishing a realm of greater renown in Egypt on the 
 Nile ; w^hile the youngest, Canaan, was founding the 
 most maritime nation of the old world on the shores of 
 the Mediterranean, with Tyre and Sidon for their capitals 
 
Glim'pses by the Wayside of History. 169 
 
 or chief ports. Thus these three sons of Ham — Cush, 
 Mizraim, and Canaan — were planted at the three points 
 of an equilateral triangle, which included the richest and 
 most important countries of Asia and Africa ; and they 
 filled the included space with a great history, as well as 
 with great kingdoms. The descendants of Japhet peopled 
 " the isles of the Gentiles," Javan seemingly taking 
 possession of the Grecian Archipelago. The posterity 
 of Shem occupied regions not so well defined, and were 
 probably more pastoral and migratory than the children 
 of the other two brothers. Indeed, the Scripture history 
 ascribes the leading position in civilization to the sous 
 and grandsons of Ham and to their immediate descend- 
 ants. They were the first builders of permanent cities 
 after the Flood, and cities, too, of renown, such as 
 Babylon, Nineveh, and -Resen, in Assyria ; " populous 
 Noe '^ in Egypt ; and Sidon and Damascus, and other 
 important centres of population and business, in Phoeni- 
 cia or Palestine. 
 
 But before these homogeneous families of mankind 
 diverged into their several countries of habitation, it may 
 be interesting to trace the progress of the social senti- 
 ment among them. That sentiment had been intensified 
 in the small family circle that drifted about in the ark in 
 the long and tempestuous months of the Deluge. They 
 had learned by this most impressive experience to say we 
 in a sense which no other human family had attached to 
 that term. And when they came forth at last to walk 
 and breathe the green earth, and to look the blue and 
 quiet heavens in the face, they not only retained that 
 feeling, but inspired their children with it. It seemed 
 
170 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 to grow with their growth and strengthen with their 
 strength ; and when they numbered a certain population, 
 they made it the central principle and ruling motive of 
 their political economy. As they travelled westward in 
 a body, they came to a district of the continent that 
 seemed to them well adapted in every way for carrying 
 out that economy. Warned by the experiences of the 
 antediluvian world, by the dangers and demoralization 
 of a vagrant, wandering life in lawless clans or bands, 
 they resolved here and now to organize and locate them- 
 selves as one compact nation. Without one dissenting 
 voice all their various families now said lye, and entered 
 into all the intimate fellowship of the sentiment. Now 
 the national feeling took strong hold upon their minds ; 
 and no people in the world ever seemed to aspire with 
 more ambition to a national being and a national name. 
 See how this feeling came out in striking forms of ex- 
 pression : '' Let us build us a city and a tower — let us 
 make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the 
 face of the whole earth." How significant is this appeal 
 addressed to the social sentiment within them ! How 
 remarkably the motives are put in these expressions ! It 
 w^as not only, nor first, the city or the tower, but the 
 name, that was to hold them together, and prevent their 
 being scattered abroad, as were the barbarous families 
 before the Flood ; a name that should cover all their 
 aggregate being with its appellation; which they and 
 their out-widening posterity should wear forever as an 
 honor, and a glory, and a protection ; which should be 
 the proud and common inheritance of the poorest man's 
 child among them all ; and which should give him the 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 171 
 
 feeliDg of wealth and dignity in the hardest lot of poverty 
 or trial. It was a unanimous sentiment, and they all set 
 at work under its inspiration to build the outworks of the 
 national being which they coveted. Doubtless Noah 
 himself gave direction and impulse to this feeling. With 
 all the thrilling memories of his experience fresh and 
 strong in his mind ; with only one of the nine centuries 
 of his life intervening between that hour and the day 
 when he saw the old world drowned in the Flood for its 
 unspeakable wickedness ; and believing, as he had good 
 reason to believe, that its inhabitants sank into those 
 depths of depravity in a large degree in consequence of 
 their vagrant, unsettled life, — he must have had an intense 
 desire that his posterity should avoid the rock on which 
 the antediluvians split and perished ; that they should 
 settle down in one permanent habitation ; pursue the 
 occupations fitted to a permanent residence ; become a 
 united and unanimous nation, subject to well-defined and 
 permanent laws ; in a word, that they should be brought 
 under the action of all those influences which produce a 
 high civilization. As their common head and lawgiver, 
 even as a mere political leader, it is almost absolutely 
 certain that he must have felt and believed all this. But 
 there were higher motives that moved his mind. He was 
 the spiritual father of the whole community who thus 
 began to build them a city, a tower, and a name on 
 the plain of Shinar. He was their prophet or priest as 
 well as king. No mere man that lived before or after 
 him ever was honored of God with such a mission and 
 ministry. He stood in the most affecting and touching 
 relation to his grandchildren that surrounded him. Out 
 
172 Ten-Mmute Talks. 
 
 of the great and awful sermon of the Flood he was to 
 speak to them of righteousness, temperance, and a judg- 
 ment to come. To fulfil this great and solemn duty, he 
 must have not only desired, but directed, that they should 
 thus settle down together in a permanent city of habita- 
 tion, where he could spread over them his patriarchal 
 influence during the last centuries of his life. And such 
 a patriarch's voice and wish must have been a law of 
 action to all his descendants. It is impossible to con- 
 ceive of a deeper veneration than they must ha.ve felt 
 and manifested for such a man, who had so walked with 
 God on the dark mountains of the roaring Flood ; who 
 had held, as it were, to his bosom the whole remnant of 
 the human race. Then his three sons, now at the prime 
 of their manhood, were with him, each like an Aaron, 
 to impress the counsels of their aged father upon their 
 children and their children's children. 
 
 Such was the " We " of Babel. It was not only the 
 largest, but virtually the first, ever formed on earth on the 
 basis of a municipal community. It included all the 
 families of at least ^so. generations from Noah ; and he 
 and his three sons resided among and presided over them. 
 We have no data whereby to estimate their entire popula- 
 tion. Although the patriarch had only three sons and 
 sixteen grandsons, his descendants in the next three 
 generations would have increased by what might be called 
 geometrical progression ; so that in Peleg's day, or at the 
 dispersion of the community, it probably numbered 
 several hundreds. There is an interesting meaning 
 attaching to the Hebrew word Peleg^ which one well 
 versed in that language can only appreciate in its full 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 173 
 
 and special significance. It does not mean division in a 
 chopping-up sense, but a division into threads. We are 
 inclined to think our v^ord jillet is derived from it, for 
 only a dot turns the Hebrew F into P. One instance 
 will serve to show its general application. In the 1st 
 Psalm it is said of the righteous man, that '' he shall be 
 ]ike a tree planted by the rivers of water ; " but literally, 
 "by the rvaier jpelegs^ or continuous streams, as water- 
 courses." And this was the way in which the little com- 
 monwealth of Babel was divided. And this was evidently 
 the object of their dispersion or colonization in different 
 sections of the continent. They had served a sufficient 
 apprenticeship to municipal institutions in their mud- 
 walled city. They had learned the first principles and 
 processes of law and order. They had enjoyed all that 
 Noah and his three sons could impart to them of counsel 
 and observation, drawn from their experience on the 
 other side of the Flood. All that these venerable patri- 
 archs could tell them of God and his dealings with the 
 race of man, they had heard. They were now to leave 
 this first school of human government, and carry out its 
 lessons in widely-separated and independent communities, 
 each of which should ultimately expand into a nation. 
 At the time of their division, each community, or nation- 
 germ, was equal to every other, and equal to the one 
 that remained in Babel, in every element and faculty of 
 civilization. The moral, miental, and mechanical outfit 
 was doubtless the same in one as the other. 
 
 And now the day and the occasion came for the pupil 
 families of this first government-school to graduate, to go 
 forth and beget and educate nations. It is still a matter 
 
174 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 of question with many what was really the first or osten- 
 sible cause of this severance. A majority of those who 
 have read the narrative thoughtfully seem to have come 
 to the conclusion that the language of the Babel com- 
 munity was literally changed, and new and strange ones 
 created instantaneously ; that where they had all spoken 
 Noah's mother-tongue, a large number of them now had 
 their memory so confused or obliterated, that they forgot 
 the words so familiar to their lips and ears, and could no 
 longer pronounce or understand them when pronounced 
 the same as ever by those who still understood and used 
 them. Now, we are inclined to think that it was a more 
 serious division than this of languages that led to their 
 dispersion. For if they had still been of the same mind 
 to dwell together in unity, they would soon and easily 
 have overcome the difficulty of speech, as one section of 
 them would have doubtless retained their mother-tongue, 
 and have been able to teach it to the rest, if the other 
 portions of the community had really forgotten it. 
 Then, if their languages had actually been divided, the 
 differences between them could not have been wider than 
 they were in Abraham's day, who jcurneyed about 
 in many Asiatic countries, and even sojourned for a 
 while in Egypt ; yet he always seemed to understand the 
 language of the people with whom he dwelt, and they to 
 understand his. It may be ascribed to a sentimental 
 predilection, but we must prefer to believe that Adam, 
 Noah, Abraham, David, and Isaiah spoke the same grand 
 old tongue, and that no radical break in it was made on 
 the line between them. As Noah lived nearly seventy 
 years after Abraham was born, and as the " father of the 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of Histoi'y. 175 
 
 faithful" probably had seen that venerable patriarch, and 
 perhaps had listened to religious instruction from his 
 lips, we may reasonably believe the language of the two 
 holy men was literally and grammatically one and the 
 same. 
 
 We are therefore inclined to the belief that a less 
 innocent and more serious division than literal and 
 grammatical changes, miraculously introduced into their 
 language, was the cause of the breaking up of the first 
 little nation organized at Babel. Doubtless it was the 
 speech of the heart, not of the lips, that was divided and 
 confused. Cross-ambitions, cross-purposes, and the ill 
 tempers of jealousy, envy, and suspicion, created diversi- 
 ties of language which were more obstinate than any 
 differences which the literal structure of human speech 
 could produce. A hundred Babels in the world's history 
 have passed through similar experience. With as strong 
 a determination and interest to build them a city, a 
 tower, and a name, as a compact, unanimous common- 
 wealth, after a while a confusion of language, a division 
 of counsels, supervened ; then one or two branches of the 
 great family went forth to found a nation. Political and 
 religious persecutions have produced many of these dis- 
 persions, both in ancient and modern times. Lack of 
 land and lack of labor have played their part in planting 
 the surface of the earth with these seed-germs of great 
 kingdoms and commonwealths. The very wrath of man 
 has thus been turned to account by Providence in keeping 
 humanity from stagnation, and in peopling the continents 
 and islands of the globe. Truly, "as an eagle stirreth 
 up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad 
 
176 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 her wings, taketh them, heareth them on her wings," so 
 Providence has led forth the different branches of the 
 human race from its first centres of habitation. Babel 
 was the first nest thus stirred up ; and the young com- 
 munities nursed in it were borne forth to their mission 
 on those mighty, outspread wings, which protect as well 
 as transplant the great communities of mankind. 
 
 Having thus noticed the sentiment and structure of the 
 first national We organized in the history of the world, 
 we will hereafter follow the course of that sentiment 
 through some of its subsequent ramifications and results. 
 
 THE "WE" OF THE HEBREW NATION. 
 
 It would probably be deemed a reasonable estimate to 
 put the population of the human race at five hundred at 
 the dispersion from Babel. Although Noah's own family 
 was small, and his grandsons were only sixteen in number, 
 the descendants of the latter must have made a considera- 
 ble community by Peleg's time, in which the division 
 took place. We have no intimation in the sacred history 
 as to the names or number of the bands that went forth 
 in different directions to form themselves into indepen- 
 dent communities ; nor do we know what branch remained 
 in the city. It would be natural to suppose that Noah 
 and his three sons would have staid by their homes and 
 altars within the walls they had caused to be built for 
 the permanent residence of themselves and their posterity. 
 
Glimfscs by the Wayside of History, 177 
 
 "With the exception of an incidental mention here and 
 there, the Scripture narrative thenceforward leaves nearly 
 all these various branches, and confines itself to the 
 history of one family, and to what may be called the 
 central line of that ; for it but slightly alludes to several 
 offshoots which expanded into large populations. 
 
 In Abraham and his posterity not only w^erc all the 
 nations to be blessed, but to have the first records of their 
 history. At the distance of tvi'o hundred years from the 
 dispersion, he found numerous clans or tribes everywhere 
 on his westward journeyings. These must have been 
 smaller than the clans of ancient Scotland ; indeed, the 
 whole of Palestine seems to have been full of them, 
 every village having its king. In Egypt the patriarch 
 found a larger kingdom already established, with a 
 monarch upon the throne, surrounded by princes who 
 paid him the usual Oriental homage. This was about 
 three hundred years after the flood ; and assuming the 
 whole population of the earth to have sprung from the 
 eight persons preserved in the ark, it probably numbered 
 half a million of souls in the day of this the first Pharaoh 
 mentioned in Scripture. Doubtless Egypt, from its 
 fertility, had already drawn to the banks of the Nile 
 twenty or thirty thousand inhabitants, who constituted 
 the largest community under one king that had been 
 established up to that date. Egypt must have doubled 
 its population by the time that Abraham's grandson 
 Jacob went down into it from Canaan with the nucleus 
 of the Hebrew nation in his own large family of seventy 
 persons. But though perhaps the most populous kingdom 
 in the world at the time, it was not then, and never has 
 12 
 
178 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 been siuce, a uation in a popular sense. It had a splendid 
 royalty and a religion full of pomp, gorgeous circum- 
 stance, and show ; but all who could and did say we^ and 
 owr, and tts were the ruling dynasty, its blood-relatives 
 and favorite noblemen. Not only were the children of 
 Israel enslaved, but the whole Egyptian population were 
 serfed and owned, together with their lands, by the king. 
 The Scripture history tells us how they thus became 
 crown property, under the premiership of Joseph. From 
 that day to this, what may be called a national sentiment 
 has never existed in that country. The masses of the 
 people have had no more to do with their own than with 
 the structure of a foreign government. They never had 
 any part or lot in it, except as blind and dumb subjects 
 to its rule. Occasionally, in the fitful phantasies of 
 despotism, there would come an interval when its rule lay 
 lighter upon their shoulders, when a more sagacious and 
 generous sovereign would come to the throne and wield 
 a softer sceptre ; but Egypt never had a people that felt 
 their peoplehood, that ever felt the genuine and manly 
 pulse of a national being or sentiment. 
 
 In such a country, under such a government, and sur-- 
 rounded by such a degraded population of native serfs, 
 the children of Israel lived, groaned, and grew for genera- 
 tions. Under the weight of an oppression which would 
 have crushed other tribes of men, they multiplied, until, 
 in the end, they probably outnumbered the Egyptians 
 themselves. For five generations the Scripture account 
 of their condition and experience is suspended. We 
 know not what manifestations of His being and will the 
 God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob made to them in their 
 
Glimfscs by the Wayside of History. 179 
 
 house of bondage during this period. But the iron bonds 
 of oppression must have held them together, as well as 
 all the traditions of their forefathers, and the religious 
 faith or rites which they were likely to retain. If they 
 were not a nation, they were a race, and all its history 
 had been handed down from generation to generation. 
 Two linked memories could reach Jacob. The grand- 
 father of Naason, the prince of Judah, under Moses, 
 ought to have seen that venerable patriarch. Thus 
 almost every possible influence contributed to keep them 
 a separate people, in sentiment and fact, while they 
 sojourned in Egypt. Besides, the Egyptians regarded 
 them and their occupations with the strongest aversion 
 or religious antipathy, so that no blending of the two 
 races could have taken place. When the hour of their 
 deliverance came, and they marched forth from the land of 
 bondage under Moses, not one of them seems to have 
 been left behind. Even before the Red Sea parted to 
 make them a pathway, they formed " a peculiar people" 
 in respect to a national sentiment, the like of which no 
 other, before or since, ever manifested or felt. 
 
 Then came the long and trying discipline which was to 
 fit them for the great mission in the world to which they 
 were called. The arais of the Almighty were indeed 
 thrown around them, night and day, with wonderful 
 manifestation, to intensify their nationality, to detach and 
 isolate them from all the other populations of the earth, 
 and to ward off all influences that tended to merge them 
 with the peoples who surrounded them either as friends or 
 enemies. During their long bondage in Egypt, they 
 must have been greatly demoralized by the fantastic 
 
i8o Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 superstitions and idolatries of that country. The revela- 
 tions of the only true God were doubtless few and far 
 between, and all public worship or recognition of Him 
 suppressed. From this long, leaden sleep of religious 
 life they were aroused by the startling wonders wrought 
 by the divine presence and power through Moses. 
 Thenceforward those grand manifestations preceded and 
 followed them in their long march to Canaan. The up- 
 lifted waters, walled up on both sides of the dry roadway 
 through the Red Sea, when they had crossed its beds, 
 fell back not only upon Pharaoh and his host, but also 
 upon Pharaoh's deities and all the rude idolatries of the 
 heathen. The cloud by day and the pillar of fire by 
 night that led and lighted them through the wilderness, 
 the wonders of Horeb and Sinai, and the daily manifesta- 
 tions of the divine power and presence, were parts of 
 the discipline through which they were to be raised up to 
 be " a peculiar people," a consecrated people, set apart, 
 and set on high, to bless all nations with their spiritual 
 life and light. 
 
 But the demoralizing influences of Egypt had so 
 permeated and corrupted their moral nature that they 
 turned their eyes back towards that pagan, land with 
 eager longing at almost every stage of their journey. 
 The moment the divine presence was not overshadowing 
 them in some special and powerful manifestation, their 
 nainds turned again to the quadruped deities of Egypt. 
 After quaking with awe at the thunders and lightnings 
 of Sinai, they made a golden calf after* the Egyptian 
 pattern, and worshipped it at the very base of the burn- 
 ing mountain, because Moses delayed his coming from 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of Histo7'y. 181 
 
 its holy heights with the tables of God's law written by 
 His own fingers. Even in the very sight of the promised 
 land they threatened to choose another captain to lead 
 them back to the Nile. The generation that formed their 
 character in that house of bondage and gross idolatry 
 cculd not be raised even by such a discipline to the 
 peoplehood of the nation that God had determined to 
 plant in Canaan. So the children uncorrupted by these 
 influences, and mostly born on the march, were chosen to 
 the mission which their fathers were incompetent to 
 fulfil. And, born as they were under the very cloud aucl 
 pillar of fire ; educated under such a divine discipline ; 
 under the unbroken and vivid impression and sense of 
 God's power and presence, — even they could not stand 
 before the seductions of heathen influence when they 
 arrived in Canaan. The wars they waged with the 
 aboriginal clans of the country consolidated and held 
 them together for a time by the strongest necessity of 
 union. But when they had effected the subjugation of 
 these native tribes, the national feeling, the sentiment of 
 consecration as a peculiar people, began to lose its vitality. 
 Whenever this sentiment had waned to a certain weak- 
 ness, they lapsed into the service of strange gods and 
 strange people. Then a leader was raised up to rescue 
 them from this moral degradation and servitude, and 
 restore them to the sense and status of a united nation. 
 Through this long period they merged and emerged 
 several times ; now seemingly blended or lost in sur- 
 rounding populations, now brought forth again by the 
 outstretched hand of an Almighty Power. For two or 
 three centuries, and even to the middle of David's reign, 
 
i82 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 they Lad no capital, nor central seat of government, 
 nor much of the structure of a confisderate nation. 
 During most of this space of time they acted as indepen- 
 dent tribes, sometimes singly, and again by twos and 
 threes, and at wide intervals as an entire confederacy. 
 For twenty or thirty years at a time they had no ruler 
 or leader, temporal or spiritual. Then a kind of second 
 Moses or Joshua was raised to break their captivity, and 
 to bring them back to the worship of the God of Israel. 
 It was hard standing for them in the midst of such sur- 
 roundings. The cloud by day and the pillar by night 
 Jiad been withdrawn. The divine manifestations that 
 almost daily visited their forefathers in the wilderness 
 came now but rarely. They had but little more than 
 vague or varying traditions of those experiences. All 
 that Moses had received and written was accessible only 
 to but few, if not hidden from all for long periods. The 
 Levites and priests were merged with the people, or went 
 over with them to pagan worship. The peoples on their 
 right hand and left, especially on the Mediterranean, 
 -were more advanced than themselves in the arts and 
 sciences of the old world's civilization, and their mytholo- 
 gy and gorgeous religious systems took hold of the Israel- 
 ites with fascinating attraction ; and they repeatedly went 
 after these " other gods," and served as serfs the people 
 that made and worshipped them. 
 
 After a succession of temporary dictators, or judges, 
 who ruled the people according to their own mind and 
 will, we come to a new point of departure in the history 
 of the Hebrew nation. For two or three centuries they 
 had been a loose confederacy of tribes, vv^ith no permanent 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 183 
 
 head or capital. They had often been divided and con- 
 quered as a result of this condition. Several times they 
 had fought with each other, and one of their tribes had 
 been almost entirely exterminated in one of these domestic 
 struggles. They now resolved to consolidate themselves, 
 and become a united, compact nation, instead of an 
 uncertain group of clans, ruled by a priest who, though 
 a holy man himself, often transferred his priesthood and 
 power to wicked and profligate sons, as in the case of 
 Eli, and even Samuel himself, whose sons " turned aside 
 after lucre, and took bribes and perverted judgment." 
 The people put their motives for changing their govern- 
 ment before the venerable hierarch in these words : •' We 
 will have a king over us, that we also may be like all 
 the nations, and that our king may judge us, and go out 
 before us and fight our battles." From this time forth 
 they became a nation, like those around them in political 
 structure. For the first time the twelve tribes felt the 
 inspiration and bond of a national sentiment. Up to this 
 date the mere race, feeling had predominated among them. 
 Saul commenced his reign with small means for establish- 
 ing a kingdom. The Philistines had not only disarmed 
 the Israelites, but prevented their re-arming themselves 
 by carrying off all their smiths. "So it came to pass 
 in the day of battle that there was neither sword nor 
 spear found in the hand of any of the people that were 
 with Saul and Jonathan." He had no capital in which 
 to erect his throne, and which the tribes recognized as a 
 common centre. They had been demoralized by subju- 
 gation to different powers for several generations. He 
 had a great work before him, and, with all his faults, he 
 
184 Ten-AIinutc Talks. 
 
 accomplished it with remarkable energy and success. 
 Pie beat back all the enemies of Israel on every side and 
 to a great distance, and raised the people of his realm 
 to the stature, power, and sentiment of a recognized 
 nation. 
 
 After an interval of civil war between the two houses, 
 David ascended the throne of Israel, and doubled its 
 power and prestige. He subdued peoples that Saul only 
 discomfited, and defeated and half destroyed nations 
 which his predecessor never encountered. He planted 
 garrisons far beyond the boundaries of his own realm, 
 and even held Damascus, the strong city and capital of 
 the Syrians. He was, beyond all the line of Hebrew 
 kings, a man of war, and carried the power and dread 
 of Hebrew arms and name over regions they never 
 reached before or since. Never before or since did a 
 king wield such a sword and pen simultaneously, or sing 
 and fight with such inspiration. While hunted like a 
 partridge in the mountains, or hunting down the enemies 
 and oppressors of Israel at the head of invincible armies, 
 his heart breathed out prayers that fitted every necessi- 
 ty, emotion, longing, and experience of every human soul 
 that should desire to offer up petition or thanksgiving to 
 God in any land, language, or age, up to the last year of 
 time. His power of organization was marvellous. No 
 sooner was he fairly enthroned over all the Hebrew tribes, 
 than he set his hand and heart to the work of erecting 
 them into the great central nation of the world, which 
 should command the admiration and homage of mankind. 
 He would found a capital which " for situation should be 
 the joy of the whole earth." He would erect a temple 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 185 
 
 for the Hebrew religion which should eclipse for its 
 grandeur everything the world had seen or conceived. 
 The house, dedicated to the worship of the Hebrews' 
 God, and the worship itself, should throw all the heathen 
 temples and rites into the shade, and not only prevent 
 his own people from straying off after strange gods, but 
 attract strangers from distant lands to his royal city. 
 This splendid object was constantly before him in all his 
 bloody campaigns. For this he despoiled surrounding 
 nations that had made Israel to serve and sin for centuries. 
 For this he filled the city he built with treasures and 
 stores without tale. In the eighth year of his reign the 
 site of his new capital was a fortified mountain of Judea, 
 still held in force by one of the aboriginal tribes of 
 Canaan. The Jebusites made a stout and long resistance, 
 and for a long time he only got possession of a part of 
 their inheritance, which he called Mount Zion. Thence 
 he fought his way to the whole, and Jerusalem, the 
 glory of his kingdom and the joy of his song, arose 
 grand and beautiful to the whole world, ready for its 
 crowning structure, the Temple of Israel's God. The 
 plan of this edifice was just like one of David's prayers, 
 when his heart was full of joy and hope. It was an 
 inspiration of beauty in its minutest detail. His mind 
 seemed to see the great and splendid whole as in a vision, 
 and every function and feature that could give effect to 
 the worship that was to be celebrated within its walls. 
 He portioned out gold " even to every candlestick by 
 weight," and had in his eye the place and pattern of the 
 smallest ornament. Before a blow was struck or a stone 
 laid, he organized such a choir of vocal and instrumental 
 
1 86 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 musicians as the world had never seen, to be in training 
 for the sacred songs of Zion. 
 
 But when all was ready for the signal ; when the vast 
 treasures and spoils of many nations were brought forth 
 for the work ; when the armies of masons, carpenters, 
 and artificers of every craft were awaiting the word of 
 command, and the plan of the temple lay unfolded to its 
 last and finest feature, — there was found too much blood 
 on the hands that David uplifted to God for His blessing 
 on the grand undertaking. He was bidden to hand it 
 over to Solomon, whose very name was more fitting to 
 the House of God. The veteran monarch transferred 
 the charge in language as grand as the act itself. And 
 Solomon just crowned the kingdom his father built. 
 The united reigns were a continuity of one regime^ com- 
 mencing with David's first foothold on Mount Zion, and 
 culminating with the sublime scene enacted at the Dedica- 
 tion of " Solomon's Temple." Fifty years of the two 
 reigns made the great epoch of Hebrew history ; and 
 this period measured the whole length of the nation's 
 real life. Within this space of time the twelve tribes 
 were not only united, but unanimous under one head : 
 their clan feeling expanded to the generous sentiment of 
 a great people. All the circumstances that could develop 
 this sentiment were acting upon them. They saw, in the 
 span of one generation, their scattered populations, so 
 often reduced to the rule of their heathen neighbors, 
 without a permanent capital for their government, or a 
 temple for their religion, now raised to the status and 
 reputation of the foremost power in the world. The 
 pomp and splendor of Solomon's court ; the grandeur of 
 
Glimfscs by the Wayside of History. 187 
 
 their temple, doubtless the noblest building hitherto 
 erected on earth ; the gorgeous rites of their religious 
 worship; their great choir of ''sweet singers" and 
 players on newly-invented instruments, — these, and a 
 hundred other realizations, far exceeding the early 
 ambitions of the children of Israel, filled the measure 
 of their happy experience. They said %oe and our in 
 regard to this experience, and to the glorious future 
 opening upon them, with a patriotic pride and fervor of 
 feeling they never felt before. This sentiment must have 
 warmed to a new glow in Solomon's auspicious reign, 
 when foreign kings and queens visited his court, and 
 paid him the tribute of their homage and admiration, not 
 only for his personal wisdom, wealth, and splendor, but 
 for the beauty and grandeur of a city and temple which 
 made Jerusalem to the contemporary Eastern world what 
 Rome and its St. Peter's are now to Europe architecturally. 
 But, a few years after this consummation was attained, 
 the fabric of the Hebrew nation was sundered in twain. 
 An insolent act or expression of a young would-be despot 
 broke in pieces the grand structure that had just reached 
 and presented its splendid proportions before the world. 
 The joint work of David the warrior and Solomon the 
 statesman was undone by that act. Both had taxed the 
 twelve tribes to their utmost capacity of endurance in 
 order to build up a grand capital and a grander temple 
 for the kingdom. Botli had swept a vast region of territory 
 outside of the realm, and despoiled numerous cities and 
 populations to this end. It was natural and inevitable 
 that the ten tribes, at a time when the clan feeling was 
 still susceptible of jealousy, should feel that Judah and 
 
i88 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Jerusalem were getting the lion's share of Hebrew glory 
 and power. Under these circumstances, the petition they 
 addressed to Kehoboam was as moderate and just as any 
 ever presented to an absolute sovereign : " Thy father 
 made our yoke grievous ; now, therefore, ease thou some-- 
 w^hat the grievous servitude of thy father, and his heavy 
 yoke that he put upon us, and we will serve thee." But 
 the young king, following the evil counsels of his young 
 and reckless courtiers, returned a reply which the history 
 of royal autocrats and despots can hardly parallel for its 
 stinging insolence : '' My little finger shall be thicker 
 than my father's loins ; for whereas my father put a 
 heavy yoke upon you, I will put more to your yoke : my 
 father chastised you with w^hips, but I will chastise you 
 with scorpions." There is no reason to wonder at what 
 followed : '' The people answered the king, saying, What 
 portion have we in David? and we have none inheritance 
 in the son of Jesse : every man to his tent, O Israel ; 
 and now, David, see to thine house. So all Israel went 
 to their tents." 
 
 Thus ended the life and being of the Hebrew nation 
 as one consolidated, united people. The chasm between 
 the two sections was never bridged, and they never more 
 came together under one head. After a long period of 
 separate existence, often at bloody war with each other, 
 and both departing more and more from the faith and 
 worship of the God of their fathers, they w^ere carried 
 off bodily into the Babylonian captivity. There, speak- 
 ing the same language, holding the same memories and 
 traditions of their history as a united nation under David 
 and Solomon, they may have hung their harps upon tho 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 189 
 
 same willows, and mourned together the sin and folly 
 which had led to their subjugation and exile. 
 
 A short time prior and subsequent to this bitter end, 
 inspired prophets arose, gifted to see in dim vision, and 
 to describe in language to correspond with such vision, 
 the advent of a God's '' Anointed," or a llessiah, who 
 should restore the kingdom to Israel, and make it glorious 
 and everlasting. This prediction of a coming future, 
 when all that had been lost should be regained, took hold 
 of the Jewish mind with all the force of the strongest 
 faith. It comforted them in exile by " the rivers of 
 Babylon," and by all the other rivers of their captivity. 
 To this ideal it seemed to go, and no farther — that the 
 promised Messiah should ascend the throne of David, 
 and raise the Hebrew nation to the greatness and glory 
 it had under that father and founder of the Jewish 
 monarchy. Other populations might be subject to his 
 rule, as tributaries, as hewers of wood and drawers of 
 water, as there were under Solomon ; but the Hebrews 
 only should be the people of the realm. This evidently 
 was the largest and only We they expected or wished 
 to see established in Palestine. For this realization of 
 the prophecies they longed and looked as those that 
 watch for the morning. Up to the birth of Christ this 
 expectation bounded and contained all their hopes. They 
 could see and wish nothing beyond it. Not one of the 
 fishermen of Galilee that followed Him and listened daily 
 to His teachings, not even the favored disciple who 
 leaned upon His bosom, could raise his eyes to look 
 beyond this small scope of earthly power. After all He 
 had said and done to reveal the character of His reign, 
 
ipo Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 they still held fast to the old idea of their countrymen, 
 that His kingdom was to be of this world ; that it was to 
 be the kingdom of David restored and established forever 
 under His sceptre. When they were " scattered like 
 sheep without a shepherd " from His cross, and wandered 
 about in couples, murmuring over their crushed hopes, 
 they said to the inquiring stranger, '' We trusted that it 
 had been He which should have redeemed Israel." Even 
 after the baptism of the Pentecost, when the Spirit of 
 God seemed to transform them into new men, and to 
 give them a vision of Christ's kingdom which they had 
 never caught before, the old idea clung to their souls in 
 another form. Even if it were not to be an earthly, but 
 a spiritual rule, it should embrace only Israel. The out- 
 side barbarians, or Gentiles, such as Greeks, Romans, 
 Syrians, and the like, should have no part nor lot in it. 
 The Jews should not have to say we with such aliens, or 
 to admit them as fellow and equal subjects of the sceptre 
 of the " Anointed," the Messiah, promised to Israel. 
 Peter, the very van-leader of the apostleship, made a 
 stout resistance to such a thought, and even contended 
 with the Lord in the vision, against preaching His 
 gospel of grace to these outsiders. Pead his explanation 
 and apology to his fellow-apostles for such an innovation. 
 See with what astonishment they all opened their eyes 
 and lifted up their hands at the idea and fact : " Then 
 hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto 
 life ! " 
 
 Such, then, was the We of the Hebrew nation. Such, 
 in the mind of that people, was the national being to which 
 they aspired ; for which they waited, hoped, and prayed 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 191 
 
 through long centuries of subjugation and exile. Never 
 did an idea take hold of a race of men with such force. 
 For two thousand years the wandering and persecuted 
 Israelites, scattered among the nations, have held to this 
 one great thought. The Christ to whom all the kingdoms 
 of the world, worth the name, now bow the knee of their 
 faith and homage, they insist is not their Messiah. 
 Jesus of Nazareth may rule and mould all the empires, 
 kingdoms, and republics of Christendom, and the brazen 
 tongues of all its million Sabbath bells may add theirs 
 to all its human voices in adoration of His name and 
 power, but until a being of flesh and blood shall come 
 to localize himself in Judea, and restore the throne 
 and realm of David, and bring back the scattered 
 tribes of Israel to a temporal rule and state, they will 
 recognize and honor no other Messiah. Truly they 
 are a peculiar people, and never so peculiar as at this 
 moment, in the tenacity with which they cling to this 
 interpretation of the prophecies in face of evidence 
 which floods the world with its light. When *' the 
 fullness of the Gentiles shall come in," their eyes will 
 be opened, as Peter's were in the vision, to see what 
 a We the empire of " The Anointed " was to constitute 
 and embrace. 
 
 We will next glance at the commonwealth of Greece, 
 and notice some of the characteristics of the We they 
 founded. 
 
192 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 THE NATIONAL "WE" OF GREECE. 
 
 Greece once so covered the world with its disk of 
 light and glory, that, reversing the order and action of 
 the sun's annular eclipse, the ring that surrounded it was 
 the outer darkness, while itself was the lustre of humani- 
 ty. Indeed, we should not know that there was such a 
 dark circumference, nor what beings peopled it, were it 
 not for the light of Greece. Jerusalem and Athens were 
 the two fountain-heads of human history for the first forty 
 centuries, one of the sacred, the other of the secular an- 
 nals of mankind. Greece not only made grand and bril- 
 liant histories of her own, but wrote all that is worth 
 remembering of the life, and being, and doing of all other 
 nations, excepting the Hebrew. Rome lit her great torch 
 of civilization at the lamp of Greece ; and later-born 
 nations have gone to her for oil, and found that it would 
 burn bright and clear even in the colder latitudes of their 
 being. Outside the Bible, what a Mohammedan fanatic 
 said of the Koran might be said by a Grecian sage — that 
 all that had been written of mankind that was not in 
 Greek literature was superfluous, and might be destroyed 
 without loss to the world. What do w^e of to-day know 
 of the history of ancient Assyria, Persia, Media, Egypt, 
 Asia Minor, and Scythia, except through Greek historians 
 or their Roman copyists? Who are the Latin orators, 
 historians, poets, philosophers, painters, sculptors, and 
 architects, who were not pupils of the great masters of 
 Greece ? What would have been Cicero without a De- 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 193 
 
 motlienes, or Virgil without a Homer, for a predecessor 
 and teacher? Then in religion, as well as literature, 
 compare the gods and goddesses of Grecian mythology 
 with the quadrupedal, centipedal, volant, and reptile dei- 
 ties of Egypt. Compare their w^orship and its rituals 
 with the cruel and disgusting abominations of more east- 
 ern idolatry. Compare their ethical and intellectual 
 philosophy with the fantastic conceptions of the Hindoo 
 mind ; their Solon, Socrates, and Aristotle with any men 
 that Persia or Media ever produced. In patriotism, 
 what antecedent or subsequent histories of mankind can 
 give more illustrious examples than that of Leonidas and 
 his Spartan band at Thermopylae ? What one nation of 
 antiquity ever produced axioms of purer morality, or of 
 richer wisdom, or proverbs that are more likely to go 
 down to the last generations of men ? After all that has 
 been written and said of the impress that Greece made 
 upon the world, of her place in history and humanity, 
 few, even Gladstone himself, have reached the full fact 
 of her shaping and determining power, first upon the 
 E-oman empire, then through Rome upon the later na- 
 tions. 
 
 Still it is a fact, which juvenile wisdom has comprehend- 
 ed, that there are '• spots in the sun." The naked eye 
 may detect them ; but, seen through a powerful medium, 
 these spots become huge craters and lagoons of opaque 
 matter. To get at many facts in her real life and character, 
 one must look at Greece through a smoked glass, espe- 
 cially when he contemplates her at the full-orbed splen- 
 dor of her glory. In examining and presenting a few of 
 these facts, we would not dim nor depreciate a single ray 
 13 
 
194 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 of that lustre. We only adduce them to illustrate the 
 rise and progress of '* We," showing the growth and 
 • manifestation of a national sentiment at different stages 
 of the world's history. 
 
 The country which came to be called Greece, at some 
 unknown period after its first discovery and settlement, 
 must have been for more than a century on the extremest 
 frontier of civilization, and even humanity. It was peo- 
 pled by the descendants of Noah's grandson, Javan, a 
 name which would not likely be spelt nearer the Hebrew 
 in Greek than lona. And that was the general name 
 given to the people of the country by the nations from 
 which they originally went. The isles of the sea inhabited 
 by the posterity of Javan, must have been the Ionian 
 Islands, for Moses could have heard of no other in his 
 day. Island populations in all ages and regions have 
 been thus necessarily the most benighted and barbarous 
 in their aboriginal condition. All the explorers and 
 navigators of the last two centuries attest to this fact, 
 and the missionaries who have labored to elevate these 
 islanders have found to their sorrow how slowly they 
 change their character. But neither Columbus, Cabot, 
 or Cook ever discovered human beings so utterly de- 
 graded and brutish as were the aboriginal inhabitants 
 of the Grecian isles and mainland. To say that they 
 planted themselves on the extremest frontier of civiliza- 
 tion would be putting their condition far short of the 
 fact. Considering the character of the times, they were 
 as far from civilization as the Esquimaux Indians were 
 from Iceland in the ninth century. In habits, disposition, 
 and modes of life, they resembled the beasts of prey, 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 195 
 
 their fellow-inhabitants. According to their own his- 
 torians, they lived like beasts, in holes, caverns, and 
 the hollows of trees. They fed on acorns, nuts, natural 
 fruits, and herbs. But even when they had no other 
 homes but these holes to fight for, they developed those 
 characteristics which marked every subsequent age of 
 their history. They fought with each other, first by 
 individuals, then by families. It was a long time^ be- 
 fore they could fight in packs- like wolves ; and they 
 learned these small lessons of union under the pressure 
 of sharp necessity. By uniting their strength they found 
 that their piracy paid better, and won more spoil for each 
 individual, than if he fought or stole with his single 
 hands. And this union of forces was as valuable and 
 necessary for defence as aggression ; for of course the 
 victims of their violence and thefts learned how to unite 
 themselves also to repel and return the murderous assaults 
 upon their lives and property, if they possessed anything 
 worthy the name of property. This principle seems to 
 have run through all their leagues, councils, and confed- 
 erations, until they lost even the semblance of national 
 life. So slow w^as the progress of their elevation, and 
 from such a low level did they arise, that they almost paid 
 divine honors to the first philosopher they produced or 
 captured, who taught them to build huts, and clothe 
 themselves in skins. No people known to ancient history 
 remained so long and deep in utter barbarism ; perhaps be- 
 cause none was so long isolated or barred outside the line 
 or reach of civilization. While the Persians, Phoenicians, 
 Jews, Egyptians, and Midianites were at the zenith of 
 their enlightenment^ the Greeks were about where the 
 
196 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 North American Indians were found when the English 
 began to plant colonies on that continent. Indeed, they 
 had not progressed so far as those Indians towards the 
 structure of a nation or of a national sentiment. When 
 Solomon was in all his glory, and the Hebrew nation in 
 all its unity and greatness, the Greeks were divided into 
 more clans than the Indians in the six New England 
 States, and were no more advanced than they in the use- 
 ful or civilized arts. 
 
 But, with all their barbarism, and almost continually 
 at war with each other, when other peoples were out of 
 their reach, the policy of union made considerable prog- 
 ress, especially when it was necessary for some piratical 
 expedition on a larger scale than usual. This was the 
 case in connection with their famous expedition against 
 Troy, which Homer's genius celebrated, and, perhaps, in 
 a great measure created. Outside of this grand epic, we 
 have but a meagre and vague history of this event. It 
 shows how long after the expedition he wrote, and under 
 what new influences and for what new readers he wrote^ 
 that he put a woman at the bottom of the affair. But 
 at a time when they sold their children and bought their 
 wives, what was Helen to them, or they to Helen? Un*- 
 doubtedly their descent upon Asia Minor was the foray 
 of pirates, pure and simple, and all the romance that 
 stirred them to or in it was the cupidity of plunder. 
 Troy, doubtless, was the first as well as the richest city 
 they had ever seen. Possibly it contained more wealth 
 than the whole of Greece at the time. The fleet of little 
 vessels, which Homer magnified into ships, but which 
 the Iroquois Indians would have called war-c|inoes, was 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 197 
 
 commanded and manned by the largest number of Greek 
 chiefs, sailors and soldiers, that had ever been leagued 
 together in one enterprise. 
 
 Here, then, we have a stage in the history of Greece, 
 at which the numerous little communities which peopled 
 the country present the temporary coherence, force, and 
 sentiment of a nation. It was a very important point for 
 them to reach, when the prospect of the spoils of a large 
 and civilized town could thus unite them and hold them 
 together through such a long experience of hardship, 
 danger, bravery, and suffering. Clans or tribes, which 
 had preyed upon each other in Greece all the way back 
 to the time v/hen each only represented a single family, 
 now fought side by side with equal courage under the 
 walls of Troy. At the close of each battle in a foreign 
 land and with a foreign foe, they must have yielded more 
 and more to the sentiment of a common country, a com- 
 mon race, and a common language ; perhaps to feel that 
 a permanent union as a nation would be preferable to 
 their old condition. Then there was another influence 
 more important still that resulted from their union in this 
 enterprise. It brought all the leading and the brightest 
 minds of Greece not only into the first, but into a long 
 and most intimate contact with the civilization of Asia 
 Minor. In this respect and in this way, it did more for 
 their enlightenment and the elevation of their country, 
 than the crusades did for the rude but energetic nations 
 of Western Europe. Indeed, in a reverse order, it did for 
 them what the rule and occupation of the Moors in Spain 
 did for that country, and, through it, for France, Eng- 
 land, and other lands. If the Moors did not go to 
 
198 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Greece, the Greeks went to them, and staid with them 
 long enough to learn some of the rudimental arts and 
 habits of civilization. Whatever obscurity involves Ho- 
 mer, his time and his story ; whatever proportion of his 
 heroic epic was the pure and simple creation of his poeti- 
 cal imagination, the siege and capture of Troy must be 
 accepted as real facts of history. Even the unwritten 
 lore of tradition, on which he may have depended for the 
 groundwork of his Iliad, could not have emanated from 
 sheer fiction. 
 
 With the expedition against Troy commences really 
 the authentic history of Greece. 'And, what is some- 
 what remarkable, ever after this event the Greeks tended 
 eastward in their movements, pressing back upon Asia. 
 With this their first broadside contact with civilization, 
 probably their language began to take those characteris- 
 tics which made it, at a later age, the grandest of human 
 tongues. So, from this event we may date the history 
 of the Greeks as a people, if not as a nation. 
 
 Homer has made such illustrious heroes of the Greek 
 chieftains or clan-leaders who besieged and captured 
 Troy, and has surrounded the enterprise and achieve- 
 ment with such a gorgeous mist of glory, that it is diffi- 
 cult to reduce the event to the actual dimensions of fact. 
 But this may be assumed as unquestionable, that the first 
 time the different Grecian tribes ever united in a com- 
 mon cause, or with a common sentiment, was in this 
 famous foray upon Ilium. It is quite probable that they 
 had never built or thought of building a city until they 
 had taken and destroyed Troy. When they appeared be- 
 fore its walls they were mere barbarians ; and Homer 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 199 
 
 might as well have written his Iliad in Choctaw as in the 
 language spoken by Agamemnon or Achilles. Perhaps 
 neither of those heroes would have been able to read a 
 single verse which the great poet gave to their exploits. 
 The best spoils they brought back from the sacked and 
 ruined city were the ideas impressed upon their strong 
 and savage minds by their long contact and conflict with 
 the highest civilization of Asia Minor. Nearly all the 
 populations between the Euxine and the Mediterranean 
 on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus rallied to the de- 
 fence of the Trojans. Thus every band of men the 
 Greeks encountered was far more advanced than them- 
 selves in all the arts of civilized society. Indeed, for many 
 centuries their laws and customs were framed and en- 
 forced with the express object to keep them from the en- 
 lightenment, occupations, and usages of the old nations of 
 Asia ; to perpetuate and foster in them the wild, unta- 
 mable energy of barbarian freebooters. The implacable 
 ferocity with which they massacred the population of the 
 captured city, sparing neither age nor sex, was as natural 
 to their revengeful natures as were acts of the same ma- 
 lignity to the painted savages of New England in their 
 assaults upon the English colonists. But the animus 
 with which they levelled to the dust the noblest edifices, 
 which had been the admiration of Western Asia, showed 
 that they warred against such monuments of art as 
 against enemies to their own character and habits. But 
 while they were battering or burning them down, the in- 
 fluence they dreaded took hold of their minds with resist- 
 less fascination. 
 
 The leaders who returned to Europe after their tea 
 
200 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 years' war in Asia were not the men that left their coun- 
 try on the expedition. They had resisted the influence 
 to which they had been subjected, but it was too strong 
 for them. They unconsciously yielded to its shaping on 
 whatever side it acted upon their character. They be- 
 gan to build cities, and temples, and monuments after the 
 models they destroyed in Troy. They began to resolve 
 themselves into larger communities, each with a central 
 population and a recognized government. Athens took 
 the lead in civilization, and attracted teachers and scholars 
 from Egypt and other enlightened countries. Out of the 
 spoils brought back from Asia by the Greek crusaders 
 the elements of the Greek language were constructed 
 into a speech that grew in power from century to century, 
 until it became the grand, central, mediating tongue of 
 the nations. Homer raised it to this culmination of glory 
 by his immortal epics. All the learned men of the world 
 began to study and develop it, and to enrich it with their 
 best thoughts. The scholars of Egypt, headed by the 
 Ptolemies, the orators, poets, and historians of Rome, 
 and Jewish rabbies, and even Paul himself, honored it, 
 •and used it as the only classical language in the world. 
 The Greeks, in all their long internecine wars, were 
 proud of it, and boasted of it as their common inher- 
 itance. Indeed, it embraced them all in the circumfer- 
 ence of the only Our that they ever formed and kept 
 unbroken. In the most brilliant periods of their civiliza- 
 tion there were too Inany little seZ/s to make a great We, 
 Thus Greece never became a nation, nor ever felt the 
 inspiration and energy of a great national sentiment. 
 The only time that they approached this condition was 
 
GUm-pscs by the Wayside of History, 201 
 
 when they were hooped together, as it were, by Xerxes 
 aod his prodigious force. Still they were forever forming 
 temporary alliances, leagues, and councils. They intro- 
 duced a term into their language to describe these ar- 
 rangements, which the word allien does not define. Their 
 '^ summaclioi^^ meant nothing more nor less than 'partner- 
 fighters. Their leagues were little more than 'a number 
 of Grecian states clubbed together to fight the rest and 
 f^hare the spoils of the war. What Athens and Lacede- 
 mon were to each other so were the smaller cities arrayed 
 against each other, twos by twos or fours by fours. No 
 all-embracing sentiment of patriotism could ever over- 
 come, supersede, or absorb their miserly, suicidal feeling 
 of small selfishness. The rest of the world does not fur- 
 nish a parallel to the petty jealousies, ambitions, leaguing, 
 and counter-leaguing that divided and devastated Greece. 
 With all the splendor and glory of their civilization ; with 
 all theii> long and thickset array of the most brilliant 
 men, as statesmen, philosophers, orators, poets, and his- 
 torians, who have inspired the ages with the life of their 
 immortal thoughts, at no recorded moment in their his- 
 tory did the best of them, either Aristides, Demosthenes, 
 or Solon himself, ever seem to grasp the thought of unit- 
 ing all the different populations of a territory about as 
 large as Scotland in one compact, well-centred, harmo- 
 nious nation. They resisted every tendency to such a 
 union, and every policy that seemed to leacj to it, as if it 
 would extinguish all the vitality and value of their local 
 entities. Even in the most despairing straits, when an 
 overwhelming foreign invasion was pouring in a million 
 of armed men to subjugate the Grecian states, several of 
 
202 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 them not only stood out against a union for defence, but 
 even went over to the powerful enemy to assist him in 
 the reduction of the rest. This w^as the case with the 
 louians when the forces of Xerxes were overrunning land 
 and sea. When Athens and other cities were laid in 
 ashes, and the Athenians and their allies were drawing 
 up their ships in order of battle in the Straits of Salamis 
 for a struggle that was to decide the fate of the whole 
 Grecian race, they found the lonians arrayed with the 
 Persian fleet against them. Whether it was to gratify a 
 private animosity against some particular Grecian state 
 which they burned to see destroyed in the general con- 
 flagration, or whether they were hired with Xerxes' gold 
 to fight against their countrymen, history does not enable 
 us to determine. But Themistocles, the Athenian com- 
 mander, succeeded in reaching them with an influence 
 which constrained them to withdraw from the battle just 
 in time to give the victory to the Greeks. 
 
 These implacable jealousies and animosities were both 
 the defensive and aggressive weapons which foreign pow- 
 ers and domestic usurpers could always wield against 
 Greece, and keep it in a state of hostile disintegration. 
 And the saddest circumstance of all, foreign powers were 
 counselled to use these weapons instead of their own 
 by illustrious Greeks themselves who had been exiled 
 from Athens or Lacedemon. Alcibiades, alternately 
 idolized and exiled by the Athenians, now leading their 
 armies and navies, now plotting against them in the 
 councils of their most inveterate enemies, gave lessons 
 to the Persian monarch in the science of dividing and 
 conquering the Grecian states by keeping them at war 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of Histo7'y. 203 
 
 with each other. " Always help the weakest party/' 
 was the axiom in which he embodied his advice to the 
 Persians. Justinus, who gives the best resume of Grecian 
 history of any Latin author, thus sums up the policy of 
 Alcibiades : Nam regem Persarum^ dissentientihus Grcecisj 
 arhitrum pads ac belli fore ; et quos suis non posset^ 
 ipiorum armis victurum - — " For the king of the Per- 
 sians, while the Greeks are quarrelling among themselves, 
 will become the arbiter of peace and war, and con- 
 quer with their own arms those he could not with his." 
 The Persians adopted this counsel of the most brilliant 
 and versatile demagogue that Greece ever produced for 
 its demoralization, though no one nation ever produced a 
 greater number or variety of them. Indeed, the charac- 
 ter has been recognized so completely Grecian that it has 
 stuck exclusively to the Greek language ever since its 
 origin, and has never been transferred to any other. 
 Demagogue has been taken in, and adopted by them all, 
 pure and simple. Even the Germans, with all their bold 
 originality in elaborating synonymes and isonymes, can- 
 not make one out of their honest language which would 
 so fully define such a character as that of Alcibiades, and 
 of hundreds of other eloquent, ambitious, impetuous, 
 unpatriotic selfs that preceded and succeeded him in 
 Athens, as that significant term, which has come to be 
 understood by the masses in all civilized countries. There 
 were always such characters from Athens, Lacedemon, 
 and other Grecian capitals, flying for refuge against popu- 
 lar indignation to foreign courts, and scheming and plot- 
 ting with the enemies of their country to gratify their pri- 
 vate revenge ; compassing the destruction or the subjuga- 
 
204 Ten- Minute Talks. 
 
 tion of a state to foreign rule because it had rejected 
 their own domination. 
 
 What the Persians learned to practise, Philip knew how 
 to carry out on a larger scale. " Divide and conquer," 
 was a policy by w^hich he wrought out the great ends of 
 his ambition ; and even when these ends were manifest, and 
 union could alone thwart them, division was never more 
 easy to be organized between the states that succumbed 
 to his rule. In some cases one was willing to perish if 
 it could involve another in its own destruction. No 
 quarter of a century of history can be cut out even of 
 the annals of the most barbarous nations, so filled with 
 perfidy and every form of demoralization as the twenty- 
 five years of Philip's sway. It is a page that is heart- 
 sickening to read for its records of all that is revolting 
 and hateful in the character of individuals and the con- 
 duct of states. Stilly if Philip, with hands of iron des- 
 potism, had been able to construct a nation out of the 
 states he subjugated, or even kept them from wasting 
 each other with their miserable intestine wars, a modern 
 world might have pardoned his policy of conquest and 
 the tyranny of his rule. But at the very zenith of Gre- 
 cian intellect, when its orators, poets, and philosophers 
 commanded the admiration of the world, and filled it 
 with their axioms of wisdom and morality, they lacked 
 the quiet and steady virtue of patriotism : they never 
 could say, form, or feel We on a large scale : no city of 
 them all would consent to be less than the capital of a 
 nation. No pressure from without or motive from with- 
 in could solve these little jealous and ambitious se^s, or 
 expand or unite them in one great commonwealth, or in 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 205 
 
 one great common sentiment. What was common to the 
 states was common to the individuals that composed 
 them. They set up and put down in sudden and quick 
 succession every possible form of local government. Des- 
 potisms, democracies, aristocracies, monarchies, Thirty 
 Tyrants and Four Hundred Tyrants alternated at Athens. 
 Had not the ambition of the Greeks been divided upon a 
 dozen different centres, one might have thought that it 
 would have expanded under Alexander the Great to em- 
 brace a large empire like the Assyrian or Roman. But 
 when si^ch an empire seemed nearing its realization, and 
 Grecian rule about to be established over the whole 
 known world, Athens, even in the full glory of its intel- 
 lect and genius, could not lift itself high enough above 
 its own petty self to grasp the idea and feel the ambition 
 which Alexander's conquests might otherwise have in- 
 spired. Better be first in Attica than second in the space 
 and populations of two continents. 
 
 Any one who reads the history of Greece, as we have 
 already remarked, through a smoked glass, or without 
 being blinded by the brilliancy that is apt to dazzle or 
 divert the vision, will feel a species of relief when he 
 sees the eagles of Rome planted at Athens and Lacede- 
 mon, and all the other capitals and centres of the country. 
 Whether he likes the Roman rule or not, he feels that it 
 will do what the English rule has done in Ireland, and 
 the Russian in Poland — keep the people from fighting 
 with each other, and hold them fast under a solid sway. 
 
 Thus the Greeks were the mightiest race, but the small- 
 est nation, of the old world that occupied a large place and 
 played a great part in history. No one can put too high 
 
2o6 Ten- Minute Talks. 
 
 an estimate on the illuminating and transforming influence 
 of their mind upon all the other populations of the earth. 
 But at the noontide of their intellectual glory, when they 
 were wont to call every other people barbarians, they 
 were incapable of forming and maintaining a great and 
 unanimaus commonwealth. Their patriotism was intense, 
 but it burned only at small points, like the wick of a can- 
 dle. Leonidas would die with his Spartans at the gap of 
 Thermopylae to stay the invasion of the Persians by an 
 hour, but it is probable that he would have let them in 
 without contest sooner than have seen Lacedemo^ second 
 to Athens, or Athens the capital of consolidated Greece. 
 Owing to this radical and incurable defect in their char- 
 acter, they never formed, in fact or feeling, so great a 
 We as the two Hebrew tribes of Judah and Benjamin 
 constituted in a small portion of Palestine. 
 
 THE ROMAN IMPERIAL ''WE." 
 
 When the student of Grecian history and character 
 followed that brilliant and unhappy people through the 
 wretched annals of their civil w^ars, mutual animosities, 
 and antagonistic ambitions, he must hail the Roman 
 eagle, spreading its strong pinions over the scene, with a 
 feeling of relief. The retrospect is sad. A race of illus- 
 trious statesmen, heroes, orators, and poets, with the 
 best educated populations of the world, after the proba- 
 tion of centuries, have made an utter failure in the effort 
 
'Glim^pses by the Wayside of History, 207 
 
 or pretension of erecting a coherent, patriotic nation. 
 One now turns to that rough, rising power in the then 
 far west of Europe, to see what it will be and do ; 
 whether it will achieve a better success than the people 
 of Greece, whom it has just subjugated. Soon he re- 
 coofnizes a fundamental difference in the character of the 
 two races. In the first place, he sees a great centre of 
 irresistible attractive force formed at the heart of the 
 new realm ; and he feels that Rome will not break upon 
 the rock on which Greece split. She has no Athens 
 and Sparta to forbid or fracture the structure of a great 
 nation by their rival ambitions. The centripetal attrac- 
 tion of '' the eternal city " overpowers the contrary forces, 
 and sends the pulses of patriotism through the growing 
 empire. Then the rugged discipline of necessity hardens 
 the bone and muscle of the Roman people, and trains 
 them to wrestle with success for the first and greatest 
 place in the world. Their first foes are not Trojans or 
 Persians, but barbarians ruder than themselves at the out- 
 set of their career. Their growth in civilization is slow, 
 but steady and strong. They gradually develop that so- 
 lidity and firmness of character which distinguish them 
 from the Greeks and other races of men. Rome lights her 
 lamp at Athens, but it is filled with her own oil instead of 
 phosphorus. If it burns less brilliantly, its light is steadier 
 and evener. She hangs up that lamp over her Seven Hills, 
 and its rays reach farther than any one ever lighted before. 
 The national sentiment of the Romans grows with the 
 growth of their dominion. Their capital is a grand 
 moorage for their patriotism. Its centripetal attraction 
 reaches outward farther and farther. No city in the 
 
2o8 Ten-Mmtite Talks. 
 
 world ever drew like' it ; not even Jerusalem, as a politi- 
 cal centre, though it was the all in all of Judea. Assyria 
 had its Babylon and Nineveh at the same time ; Greece 
 had its Athens, Sparta, Thebes, and Philippi ; but the 
 Homan empire, in the best age of its strength and glory, 
 had onlj Rome, and it possessed more moral and political 
 force as a capital than any other city the world ever saw, 
 or ever will see hereafter, Paris, perhaps, excepted. In 
 glanciug at the history of ancient and modern nations, we 
 have only proposed, as it were, to feel the pulse of their pat- 
 riotism, or to notice the strength and warmth of their na- 
 tional sentiment, and the spontaneity of cohesion and union 
 in their respective populations. "With the exception of 
 the Jews, the Romans were the only great people that had 
 ever felt the inspiration of real patriotism. And yet 
 they founded an empire by force, and then held its diver- 
 sified populations to itself by many liens of common in- 
 terest and respect. Indeed, the very word " patriotism," 
 as well as the idea it expresses, is of Roman origin. It 
 meant something more and better than the mere love of 
 country for its glory and power. Those three words of 
 universal and everlasting renown, " Bomanus civis sum^'* 
 were never uttered with a fuller sense of their signifi- 
 cance than in the distant dependencies or colonies of the 
 empire. Roman citizenship became the right and boast 
 of multitudes who never spoke a word of Latin to the 
 day of -iheir death. It was a dignity which the nation 
 was at all times ready to vindicate before or against the 
 world ; and he who wore it, even in common life, stood 
 erect among men, proudly conscious of the prerogative. 
 In whatever latitude he lived, to whatever land or Ian- 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 209 
 
 guage he was born, this prerogative was a lien that at- 
 tached him to the throne of the Caesars, and to the Ro- 
 man capital, and to the Roman name. It reached across 
 the desert, sea, and island, and was as strong at the Brit- 
 ish Eboracum as at the chief city of Judea. It was not 
 a mere sentimental value or boast. It entitled to the 
 steady and strong protection of law and justice ; it in- 
 spired the feeling in every man who possessed it, that be- 
 hind him there was a mighty power for his defence that 
 could and would shake the world to avenge his wrongs. 
 
 No man born in Italy itself, or in any part of the colo- 
 nial empire of Rome, ever said ^^ Eonfxnus civis surn'^ 
 with a fuller sense of the right and dignity those words 
 expressed, than Saul of Tarsus. Nor was it as a mere 
 subterfuge that he appealed to that right, or interposed it 
 between himself and his bigoted and infuriated country- 
 men. His whole bearing through his apostleship showed 
 that he valued the dignity as much as the right attaching to 
 his Roman citizenship. And yet he declared, and almost 
 boasted, that he was a Hebrew of the Hebrews, and, as 
 touching the old Jewish faith and worship, a Pharisee, 
 and even had surpassed them in his persecution of the 
 Christian Church. Nor was he less a Jew in national sen- 
 timent when he put himself under the Roman segis, and 
 claimed the protection of Roman law. He had studied that 
 law. He had admired the principles on which it was based, 
 and the whole Roman process of justice at home and abroad. 
 And neither at home nor abroad were the spirit, process, 
 and award of the Roman tribunal more fully illustrated 
 than at those trials in Judea at which Paul and Paul's Mas- 
 ter were brought to its bar. Even the wicked and cruel 
 14 
 
2IO Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Pilate felt himself in the august presence of Roman law, 
 as well as face to face wdth a sublime and innocent pris- 
 oner, when he declared to the boisterous priests, scribes, 
 and rulers of the Jews, " I find no fault in him ; " — 
 nothing that violated or disregarded a single statute of 
 that law. At that momentous and affecting trial he 
 planted his feet upon it as upon a rock, and seemed for a 
 while to beat back the surging and shouting crowd that 
 dashed against it. It was only in the face of their fierce 
 will that he suffered himself to be drawn from his im- 
 pregnable position by a fatal compromise with justice. 
 He sought to save the life of the innocent prisoner, not 
 by Roman law, but through a Jewish custom. The ex- 
 pedient was a bitter failure ; for the multitude, incited by 
 their priests, chose a murderer instead of The Prince of 
 Life. Then it was that the Roman governor, finding 
 himself thus intrapped, yielded to the mob with an act 
 and expression which will be perpetuated to the end of 
 time in the saying, " 1 wash my hands " of this or that. 
 '' He took water and washed his hands before the multi- 
 tude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just per- 
 son ; see ye to it." But he did not wash out of his con- 
 science the conviction that, in yielding to the clamor of 
 the Jews, he had set aside those sacred forms of justice 
 he was appointed to enforce. He could not, by vv^ashing 
 his hands before the multitude, give over an innocent 
 man to them to be put to death without any fault amena- 
 ble to Roman law. He must put up some accusation on 
 the cross, for he dared not erect it in the face of the Ro- 
 man empire as a mere sacrifice to Jewish superstition 
 and bigotry. He therefore sought to avoid this responsi- 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History, 211 
 
 bility, aod to avenge himself ou the priests and their 
 mob, by implicating them in the crime they pretended 
 to impute to Christ, Avhen all other charges had fallen to 
 the ground. " And Pilate wrote a title, and put it on 
 the cross. And the writing was, Jesus of Nazareth, 
 THE King of the Jews." This was not for the Jews 
 • only to read. It was an inscription to face Rome as well 
 as Jerusalem. It was written in Hebrew, Greek, and 
 Latin, to be read by his Roman soldiers, and all the sub- 
 jects of the Roman empire dwelling in the city. This, 
 then, was the only accusation : Christ, and not Csesar, 
 was the King of the Jews' choice. As such a rival and 
 pretender he was crucified, and the Jews were made par- 
 ticipes criminis. They begged of him to be released from 
 this implication, but he held them fast to it, saying, 
 ''• What I have written I have written." And he wrote 
 it in his own defence, as well as to punish them for 
 forcing him to swerve from the rigid rules and forms of 
 justice he was to administer. 
 
 But, as hypocrisy is a compliment to virtue, so was 
 Pilate's wretched expedient a testimony to that legal re- 
 gime which, from one corner of the Roman empire to the 
 other, made the words ^' Bomanus civis sum^' of such 
 great meaning to every man entitled to utter them. And 
 who ever uttered them more boldly and confidently than 
 Paul before the Roman governors and captains ? " When 
 the centurion heard that, he went and told the chief cap- 
 tain, saying, Take heed what thou doest, for this man is 
 a Roman. Then the chief captain came and said unto 
 him. Tell me, art thou a Roman? He said, Yea. . • . 
 Then straightway they departed from him which should 
 
212 Ten-Mmute Talks. 
 
 have examined him ; and the chief captain also was 
 afraid after he knew he was a Roman, and because he 
 had bound him.'* The great Apostle to the Gentiles 
 exercised the prerogative of his citizenship sparingly, 
 and did not abuse it. When he was in the heart of 
 Greece, he did not avail himself of it to save himself 
 and his companion from scourging and imprisonment in 
 Philippi. It was after he had suffered both that he de- 
 clared his citizenship. As a Koman, if he had done any- 
 thing worthy of death he did not refuse to die, either at 
 Jerusalem, Athens, or Rome ; but he did refuse to die or 
 suffer without trial at a regular tribunal of justice. 
 Hear what he says to the magistrates of Philippi : " They 
 have beaten us openly, uncondemned, being Romans, and 
 have cast us into prison, and now do they thrust us out 
 privily? Nay, verily, but let them come themselves and 
 fetch us out." The magistrates " feared when they heard 
 they were Romans ; " that was, because they had sub- 
 jected them to mob law — had beaten them openly and 
 imprisoned them privily without trial or judicial sentence. 
 The Grecian authorities honored Roman justice by their 
 fear ; " and they besought them, and brought them out, 
 and desired them to depart out of the city." They made 
 humble apologies to the two Jew-born Romans, and 
 doubtless begged them to forgive their sin of ignorance 
 in treating them in such a manner without first inquiring 
 out their citizenship. 
 
 Caesar and the Roman power and name were never 
 more honored than by the eloquent Apostle before the 
 judgment-seat of Festus, when the Jewish priests tried 
 to inveigle him to Jerusalem to sacrifice him to their 
 
Glhn^ses by the Wayside of History. 213 
 
 blind bigotry. "Then said Paul, I stand at Cassar's 
 judgment-seat, where I ought to be judged ; ... if 
 there be none of these things whereof these accuse me, 
 no man may deliver me unto them. I appeal unto 
 Csesar." Then answered Festus, "Hast thou appealed 
 unto Caesar? unto Caesar shalt thou go ; " and unto Caasar 
 he went, with " certain other prisoners," to be judged at 
 a tribunal which could not be moved by the clamor of 
 Jewish fanaticism. 
 
 The Roman rule was rough and stern in the countries 
 they conquered, but it established in all of them a system 
 of law, order, and equality, w^hicli tliey never knew be- 
 fore. Then it was a utilitarian rule everywhere. Other 
 armies had marched over the peopled continents and sub- 
 jugated nations, leaving destruction and desolation in 
 their pathways. But the Roman legions, when they had 
 done the work appointed them with the sword, took up 
 the pick and spade with equal bravery a;nd patience, and 
 became the missionaries of a higher civilization. They 
 left every land they occupied better than they found it ; 
 and they found none lower than Britain^ and none profited 
 more by their presence and influence. The Romans 
 changed their systems of government as many times as 
 did the Greeks before them ; and they invented systems 
 which even the Athenians never thought of. In looking 
 back over past centuries, the spaces between them grow 
 narrower as they recede, and the events that marked 
 them more frequent. Thus the change from kings to 
 consuls, republics or monarchies, and vice versd^ appear 
 nearer to each other in this retrospect than they really 
 were. StiU those who wrought these changes by force 
 
214 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 or intrigue could say, if they loved Cassar less it was be- 
 cause they loved Rome more. They had many revolu- 
 tions and conspiracies, but no internecine wars like those 
 of Greece. They who smote " the foremost man of all 
 this world," struck for Rome. Up to the last year of the 
 Augustan age that metropolis was to the remotest corner 
 of the empire what Paris is to France. It was the eradi- 
 ating and irradiating centre of patriotism to patrician 
 and plebeian, tribune and dictator. Even Tarquin the 
 Proud, impious as he was, and Coriolanus and Camil- 
 lus, found and sought no Lacedemon in their voluntary or 
 involuntary exile. It was Rome or nothing with them. 
 
 Thus, with all these sudden and violent changes of 
 government, the Imperial '^ We " of Rome, at the time of 
 Augustus Caesar, was broader in circumference, stronger 
 and steadier in sentiment, and more well-working in ac- 
 tion than any national sentiment and organization ever 
 attained before by any people or race. There is some- 
 thing sad in the decline and extinction of this mighty 
 power. Its career is like the Rhine. Between the rug- 
 ged mountains it is a noble river ; but when its current 
 slackens and parts into sluggish streams in the quick- 
 sands of low morality, the main channel is swallowed up 
 and lost. One may as well seek for the true mouth of the 
 Rhine as for the continuity of the Roman character. 
 The sky of Italy was the same in Caesar's day as in this. 
 The marshes and malaria, the plagues and pestilences, 
 were as fatal then as now. What, then, has wrought the 
 transformation? Many students and writers of history 
 have addressed themselves to the solution of this prob- 
 lem, and must have failed even to satisfy their own 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 215 
 
 minds. Still, from our stand-point, we may see the 
 grand march of the human race, and observe how these 
 great nations had their day and its work. When the 
 lamp of Greece was full ablaze, it shone with all the light 
 that Assyria, Egypt, and Palestine had emitted. When 
 she fell, she passed that lamp over to Rome, who, adding 
 oil of her own, held it up for centuries before the world 
 with steadier illumination. When it fell from her hands, 
 it was lifted by another race, and set alight with a lustre 
 that had never shone on Rome, Greece, Egypt, or As- 
 syria. Following the sun, and, like it, westward, the 
 star of empire takes its way by the light of that lamp, 
 replenished with oil which neither Caesar, nor Pericles, 
 nor Ptolemy ever tested. It will be more gratifying to 
 read the history of nations marching by that light. 
 
 LIFE AND DIGNITY OF THE ENGLISH 
 LANGUAGE. 
 
 The most precious and powerful vitality of a nation's 
 life is its language. A nation's political institutions may 
 change from decade to decade, or from century to 
 century ; but its language is its breathing life, whose 
 pulse the revolutions which upset thrones and dynasties 
 cannot break nor still. The great heart of a people 
 breathes and beats in their language. In its warm and 
 sleepless life live, and move, and have their being, their 
 thoughts, hopes, aspirations, patriotism, religion, and 
 
2i6 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 history. The words that Shakespeare puts into the 
 mouth of one of his characters, with but slight change, 
 have come from the lips of many a nation, great or small : 
 " He that filches from me my own language, robs me of 
 that which not enriches him, and makes me poor indeed." 
 How many a people have clung to this as the immediate 
 jewel of their soul ! They have looked on, powerless 
 and saddened, to see the political structure of their 
 nationality rent in twain, and demolished beam by beam 
 and stone by stone. They have seen the regalia worn by 
 their kings pass over to the brows of foreign potentates, 
 and the very name of their national habitation dimmed 
 and diluted in the appellation of provinces or counties of 
 an alien and conquering empire. But to save this 
 immediate jewel of their soul — their language — they 
 have dashed into the burning wreck of national entity, 
 as a mother would into the flames and smoke of her 
 dwelling to pluck her darling infant from its burning 
 cradle, forgetful of all other treasures. How the Poles, 
 Hungarians, and the Germans of Sleswig have struggled 
 for this treasure, as if it were more precious and costly 
 than any other that despotic power could filch from them ! 
 With what desperate tenacity the Welsh have held to it, 
 though gladly surrendering every other faculty of their 
 national existence to the British empire ! Lest the 
 surging wave of English literature and life should some 
 day overflow their Principality and quench the light of 
 their rude language, a Welsh colony has gone out to 
 '' Patagonia's snow-invested wilds," apparently for no 
 other earthly object than to keep the vestal flame of their 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 217 
 
 old speech burning under the cold shadow of those icy 
 mountains. 
 
 But not all alike have nations and peoples valued, 
 cherished, and honored their languages. Indeed, the 
 noblest ever written or spoken has been least honored by 
 the race that call it their own. This may be a strong 
 assertion, but we believe it is justified by facts manifold 
 and irrefutable. We have witnessed proofs of the truth 
 of this statement which are its sufficient warrant. The 
 English-speaking race for two hundred years have, as a 
 mass, appreciated the vitality and victory of their 
 language, the battles it has fought and won. The Nor- 
 mans under William the Conqueror and his successors 
 overpowered the English Saxons, broke down their 
 nobility, and endeavored to serf their common people. 
 They confiscated Saxon estates, demolished Saxon insti- 
 tutions, and labored to Latinize the Saxon race in Eng- 
 land. With the oppressors there was power, but not 
 power enough to put down the old, simple, honest Saxon 
 language. It held its own against Norman courts, 
 customs, learning, and scholars. Its pulse was feeble at 
 Oxford and Cambridge, and in all the cathedral cities of 
 the realm, but quick, and warm, and sleepless in the 
 village and rural communities of the land. It was the 
 speech of their inner home and heart life. It was 
 the speech of their hopes, prayers, faith, memory, and 
 affection. It held its own and more against every burden 
 and barrier. It worked its way upward from rank to 
 rank of the ruling classes. It worked its way in face of 
 fagot and fire into the Bible, and the whole realm and 
 
2i8 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 outside empires shook with emotion when all the holy 
 words of Divine Revelation were translated into it. 
 
 Still, with all its power and progress, with all its 
 unparalleled faculties for moving the mind of the world 
 with its life-breathiug literature, there is still perceptible 
 and prevalent among the English and American writers, 
 schools, scholars, and learning-smatterers, a kind of old 
 Norman affectation for Latin, just as if the language of 
 Shakespeare, Milton, Tennyson, and Macaulay, that is 
 making the tour of the world, were still the Saxon _paifo^s 
 of the rural districts of England. This affectation seems 
 to be reviving. We see it in the titles of new books, all 
 in English between the lids. Go into any well-stocked 
 book-shop, and you will notice hyra Gerrfianica^ Lyra 
 Aiiglicana^ Ecce Homo^ and the like. The other day w^e 
 saw a new magazine with a foot of Saxon clay and a 
 head of Latin brass, or with the name '' The AcademiaJ' 
 We have recently stood by the side of four altars on 
 which our noble English is sacrificed to the manes of a 
 dead language. The immolation on two of these 
 sacrilegious shrines is heathenish enough- to make the 
 dumb victim led to the slaughter cry out with indignation. 
 The first of the twain is erected in that Christian temple, 
 St. Paul's, to the memory of Samuel Johnson. He was 
 the great captain, if not the Columbus, of the English 
 language. He erected, and crowned, and introduced it 
 to the world as the grandest of human speeches. And 
 all who spoke and wrote it after his day crowned him 
 with the honor due for this mighty undertaking. He was 
 proud, and had ample reason to be proud, of the work, 
 for it cost him infinite toil. He had brought to it intellect- 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History. 219 
 
 ual energies that commanded the admiration of the whole 
 English-speaking world. He had compacted and beauti- 
 fied the structure with all the treasures of Chaucer, 
 Shakespeare, Milton, and other old masters ; and yet, 
 after this long life's aspiration and w^ork so fully accom- 
 plished, he, or his friends, knowing the bent of his mind, 
 made a heathen altar of his tomb, and sacrificed upon it 
 the great language he had elaborated and adorned to the 
 shades of this dead Latin tongue ! His own, which he 
 had made so noble, and held up to the world embellished 
 with all its splendid jewelry, was not good enough for 
 his epitaph ! The millions and the masses who can read 
 no other, may come by twos or threes to his monument 
 in St. PauFs, and, looking with wonder at his huge, half- 
 naked, gladiator-like statue, and seeing the Latin inscrip- 
 tion beneath, may well take him for an old prize-fighter 
 of pagan Rome, but never for the author of the great 
 English Dictionary, and a Christian besides. In this 
 sacrifice to a dead language, the friends of the illustrious 
 lexicographer, it must be said in their justification, only 
 carried out his well-known predilection, and, perhaps, 
 his expressed wish. 
 
 Still, there stands another altar on which a sacrifice 
 more strange has been offered to " the dead past." Dr. 
 Johnson was a scholar, and almost pedantic in classical 
 reading and reputation. Doubtless his ruling passion, 
 if not pedantry, was strong in death, and, when approach- 
 ing it, would be likely to quote Juvenal. But there is a 
 tall monument erected by the sea, at Great Yarmouth, to 
 the memory of one of England's greatest heroes. One 
 perhaps may say that he was to Britain's naval power 
 
220 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 and reputation what Johnson was to the English language. 
 The tall monument of Horatio Nelson stands facing the 
 sea and all the sailors of that coast. He was one of the 
 greatest of sailors, as well as naval commanders. He 
 went to sea at twelve, and lived, fought, and died upon it. 
 With such small opportunity for education, it is doubtful 
 if he coup'' write or read a sentence in Latin to the day 
 of his death. But no Englishman born ever uttered ten 
 words of our common language which so thrilled the 
 British nation as his " This day England expects every 
 man to do his duty ! " This was his last '' good night ! " 
 to the country for which he fought, bled, and died. He 
 was proud of his nation, and it was proud of him. To 
 put into its hands the sceptre of the seas was the great, 
 burning ambition of his life. At Trafalgar he accom- 
 plished his life's ambition and work. His country recog- 
 nized the consummation, and crowned his memory with 
 all the honors such recognition could dictate. Here on 
 the eastern coast of the island, where he first saw the 
 grand face of the sea, stands the tall, pedestaled shaft 
 of his monument. It is there, the beacon-light of a 
 great life, to kindle up in the breasts of the rough sailors 
 and fishermen a glow of patriotism, as well as to point 
 the way of humble men to the highest places in their 
 country's esteem and honor. All you sea-beaten men, 
 come hither in your yawls, smacks, and sloops ; come to 
 this monument of a sailor's glory. Read what he was 
 at the beginning and end of his life ; what he did for his 
 country, and what his country did for him. Read it, 
 indeed ! why, this is a Roman monument, erected to the 
 memory of Julius Caesar's flag-captain on his invasion of 
 
Glimfses by the Wayside of History, 221 
 
 England ! Look at the inscription : it is in Latin of 
 Trajan's time. The very letters are unreadable. This 
 is not the monument of our great English sailor. He 
 fought and died for a country that was an empire, and an 
 empire that had a language which all its heroes spoke 
 with a power that awed its enemies. The most intelligent 
 sailor that comes to Nelson's monument at Yarmouth 
 may say all this and more, and say it with honest indigna- 
 tion at this sacrifice on the altar of a dead language. 
 
 But a classical scholar may say, this Latin inscription 
 on Nelson's monument was not for sailors or common 
 men to read. Then for whose eyes and hearts was it 
 meant ? Was it a short exercise in Latin cut in stone for 
 a school-boy to decipher, construe, and transmute into 
 English as a morning lesson? Is it for University men 
 alone ? We would ask the most classical of them all how 
 he would like to see the sublime battle- word of Nelson at 
 Trafalgar turned into Latin. Let him try himself to 
 turn a thrilling shaft of barbed lightning into a pointless 
 icicle. How would it read? How would it sound? 
 Thus : — 
 
 Hodie Angha expectat quemque 
 Virum daturum esse debitum suum. 
 
 Or, in the many changes that might be played on the 
 sentiment, would this read or sound any better? — 
 
 Quid unusquisque debet hunc 
 
 Angha hodie expectat redditurum esse. 
 
 If the Latin amateur should not succeed in giving all 
 the stirring pulse of life in a dead language which he 
 
222 Tcn-Mimite Talks, 
 
 would to Nelson's sublime signal words, let him try his 
 hand on that beautiful and affecting expression of manlj 
 tenderness with which the hero closed his life : '' Kiss me, 
 Hardy I " How would these last words breathe in Latin ? 
 Let us see, — 
 
 " Oscula me, Duramens ! " 
 Or, ** Da mihi osculum, Durumcor ! " 
 
 In another part of England we were struck with a 
 third and very elaborate monument to the same dead 
 language. It was a beautiful fountain, wrought with the 
 most artistic taste and skill from Devonshire stone, and 
 erected at the most central and conspicuous point in the 
 town. It was for use as well as ornament. It was for 
 the special and exclusive use of the toiling, thirsty 
 masses ; for middle-class people seldom resort to the 
 chained dipper or basin of a public fountain. Here the 
 carters, costermongers, stevedores, and sailors were to 
 come and quench their thirst from this pure and running 
 stream. It was though tby the authorities that erected 
 this fountain that it would be a good thing to have a 
 healthy, pious sentence cut into the face of the stone, 
 just above the mouth of the stream. It would discredit 
 such beautiful marble, and be too common, to carve plain 
 English words in it ; so they cut in these, deep and large : 
 " Nomen Jehovah est turris fortissimaJ' Here was some- 
 thing for the hodmen and coal-porters to read that would 
 do them good ! If they had put in plain and honest 
 English, " The name of the Lord is a strong tower," 
 most of the drinkers at the fountain would have known 
 what it meant and where it came from. But this would 
 
Glimpses by the Wayside of History. 223 
 
 be vulgarizing the sentiment. If any illiterate working- 
 man would like to know the meaning of '' turris fortis- 
 sima " and all that, let him ask some school-boy who 
 could read Yirgil. 
 
 But there is another scene of this sacrifice which we 
 always contemplate with greater sadness. It is an ancient 
 and amiable custom to strew flowers upon the graves of 
 departed friends. An occasional handful is deemed an 
 adequate token of affectionate memory. The Latin lan- 
 guage, as a living speech, has been dead for many 
 centuries. But the whole English-speaking world gather 
 all the flowers and pleasant plants of the earth and strew 
 them upon the marble tomb of this mighty dead. Walk 
 lip and down Kew, or any other great garden of plants 
 and flow^ers, and you will see this, we could almost say, 
 sacrilegious homage. All the loves, prayers, songs, 
 dreams, and hopes of all the ages that ever got into 
 written language have been translated into English. In 
 it we have all the flowering thoughts of the world's poets 
 from Sanskrit to Saxon. In it we have the master-ideas 
 of the old monarchs of mental power. Its first great 
 effort and feat were to give its simple and hearty words 
 to all the Holy Scriptures that came from God in Hebrew 
 and Greek. But these beautiful, sweet-breathing Scrip- 
 tures vv'hich He has written in His own letters all over the 
 earth, have never been permitted to be thus translated by 
 the pedantic amateurs and w^orshippers of a dead lan- 
 guage. Walk up and down these great flower-gardens 
 or flower-shows. From the names of all the green and 
 tinted things that bloom and breathe by these embroidered 
 aisles, a common man from the rural districts of daisies 
 
224 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 and ferns would think that neither England nor America 
 ever had an indigenous flower or plant of its own ; that 
 every rose, lily, and pansy, and every delicate plant seen 
 here, comes from a foreign land. And yet the classical 
 botanists who crush these meek, sweet flowers with 
 ponderous Latin names, would lift up their eyes and 
 hands in pious horror at the idea of the masses of the 
 common people saying their prayers or singing their 
 hymns in church or chapel in Latin. Then why should 
 these very masses come into the temple of Nature, and 
 be obliged to say, as it were, the litany of flowers in the 
 same dead language? How cruel to make an honest 
 country girl mouth rosa riihiginosa for the sweet-brier that 
 perfumes her garden hedge, or gompJiolohiitm for a kind 
 of the beans she plants ! 
 
 We hope the day is coming, and very near, when 
 all who speak it around the globe will feel, and let the 
 world know, that the English language is a living power 
 among men ; that it can furnrsh for every thought, hope, 
 or joy that grows out of the human heart, or for every 
 flower or plant that grows out of the earth, a name of as 
 few letters and of as full meaning as any other language, 
 living or dead, can supply ; and that the English name 
 given to any flower, plant, or tree, or to any beast, bird, 
 or creeping thing, shall stand before it, and not behind in 
 brackets, forever and wherever our mother tongue is 
 spoken. 
 
SOCIAL AND AETISTIC SCIENCE. 
 
THE SONGS AND SONGSTERS OF LABOR. 
 
 ** He giveth song-s in the night." 
 
 Songs in the day, songs in the night ; songs on the 
 land, songs on the sea ; songs at the plough, songs at the 
 anvil ; songs at the cradle, songs at the grave ; songs 
 of the birds, of the bees, of the breeze ; songs of child- 
 hood, of manhood, of old age ; harvest songs. Sabbath 
 songs, Christmas songs ; songs of hope, of love, of sym- 
 pathy, of triumph, of sorrow, of faith, and fear, and 
 joy ; songs of mortals, songs of the immortals ; songs 
 in the lowest lanes of human life on earth, songs in 
 the loftiest promenades of paradise ; songs of spheres, 
 songs of angels, songs of Moses and earlier saints by the 
 crystal River of Life ; songs of little Carrie here over 
 the penny cradle of her doll. 
 
 It is wonderful how much singing there is, after all, 
 in this world of trouble and sorrow! It is a marvel 
 how much there is said of it in Revelation, how much 
 is done for it in Nature, and by it in Humanity. We 
 will let " the' music of the spheres " go as an extrava- 
 gant fiction of a poetical imagination. If they sing 
 on their axes and in their orbits, well and good ; 
 but there is no human articulation of joy in their music 
 if we could hear it. Nor is it a very pleasant-sounding 
 figure of speech to our human ears, for it suggests the 
 
 . 227 
 
228 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 monotonous noise of friction, or the great breezy whir 
 of revolving bodies. Without running into these high- 
 sounding but rather hackneyed fancies, it is really a w^on- 
 derful and most blessed thing that there is so much 
 singing in this world of toil, afEiction, and sorrow, — ver- 
 itable singing, with tongues of flesh and blood, of man, 
 and bird, and bee, and creeping thing, and swimming 
 thing, and things amphibious ; now piping in pools, now 
 in the tree-tops, tall and leafy : relays of singers, that 
 take up the song of the day musicians of the hedge, grove, 
 and sky, and carry it on, with sweet variations of their 
 own, far into the stillest hours of the night, warbling 
 to the listening woods, till their mottled breasts quiver 
 and palpitate with the ecstasy of their joy. It is one of 
 the happiest things about this great earthly home of man- 
 kind. Beautiful and blessed is this companionship ! 
 Beautiful are the symphonies of these varied tongues of 
 hope, joy, and sympathy. They are all striving to make 
 the music of human happiness, and give it speech to the 
 ear of God. 
 
 But there is a feature of this arrangement I love to 
 contemplate ; that is, the special and God-hearted pro- 
 vision of " Songs and Songsters for Labor." Whoever 
 gives attentive thought to the subject must come to the 
 belief, I think, that the first human being taught to sing- 
 on earth w^as the man of the spade and the pYuning-hook, 
 and he was taught by the singing-birds inside or outside 
 of Eden. Happy birds, of the same feather, wing, and 
 voice, have sung ever since over the thorns and briers, 
 over the mines, fields, forests, and factories, in which la- 
 bor has bent to its task with bronzed brow and hands, 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 229 
 
 weary and worn. They have been the poor men's min- 
 strels through all the dark ages of their poverty and toil. 
 They have sung their roundelays of cheer to the supper- 
 less, and even taught hungry children to sing songs of 
 hope and courage to silent fathers and mothers hanging 
 their heads in the sad sense of their penury. These 
 winged blessings of God have hovered over the homes 
 of the poor ever since the garden-gates of Eden were 
 closed against man, and have dropped as sweet a music 
 upon their hard and stony paths of life as they ever made 
 for Adam in his holiest hours. The very sweetest of " the 
 street musicians of the heavenly city " — the y^xj bird 
 that, above all others of the feathered choir, might have 
 come straight dovv^n to earth from the branches of Heav- 
 en's Tree of Life with the notes on its tongue it sung to 
 angels there — the Skylark, has been, is now, and ever 
 shall be, the ploughman's and the reaper's minstrel, sing- 
 ing over the morning furrow and the midday sheaf, and 
 all the sweat-drops between that bead their brows, the 
 twittering warble of its happy heart. It is on the look- 
 out for them. The risinor sun li^^hts them to no hour of 
 labor unblessed with the lark's song and companionship 
 overhead. It leaves the bird singing to them still when 
 it withdraws its last beams, as if the ministry of music 
 should outlast the ministry of light. And it does outlast 
 it, by many, many a cheery hour, at the poor man's 
 hearth. With all the Vv^ant and woe, the heart-sicken- 
 ings, heart-achings, and heart-breakings, half hidden and 
 half revealed in the experience of the poor, no condition 
 of humanity has been so seasoned with song as labor. 
 No human dwellins^s have been so set to music as the 
 
230 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 cottages and cabins of the men of the plough, the ham- 
 mer, the pick, and the spade. Song to them has been 
 ever the spontaneous speech of hope ; and their brave 
 hearts would hope against hope in the darkest days of 
 life. Even when all the years of childhood, manhood, 
 and old age were surrounded with the iron wall of 
 slavery, with nothing he could call his own, either wife^ 
 child, or his own being, the chattelized negro has sung 
 in his hut by night when the birds were asleep in the 
 trees ; ay, even in the coffle on the hot road to a new 
 auction-block. If his earthly lot could touch his lips to no 
 song by night or day, his heart's hope has scaled the walls 
 of his prison-house, and climbed up into the great im- 
 mortalities of the hereafter, and set the harp-strings of 
 his soul a-going melodiously. 
 
 Go where you will, and you will see how wonderfully 
 music and song are blended with the most laborious oc- 
 cupations of human life ; not only as the natural breath- 
 ing of cheery thoughts and gladdening hopes, faiths, and 
 feelings, but as giving nerve, measure, and harmony to 
 the physical forces of men bending to the most arduous 
 toil. We will say nothing here of the influence of mar- 
 tial music on the weary battalions of an army on a forced 
 march. That illustration would not be apposite to the 
 point we are considering. Any one who has travelled by 
 sea and land, and visited different countries, must have 
 been struck with the variety, the use, and universality of 
 the songs of labor. Who that has crossed the Atlantic, 
 and been awakened at night by the " merrily, cheerily,'' 
 of that song with which the sailors hoist the great main- 
 sail to the rising breeze, can ever forget the thrill of those 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 231 
 
 manly voices ? There they stand in the darkness, with 
 the salt sea spray in their faces, and the tarred rope in 
 their hands, holding the long and ponderous yard against 
 the mast until their rollicking song reaches the hoisting 
 turn, and all their sinews are strung to the harmony of a 
 unison for the telling pull. Everywhere, and in all ages, 
 the week-day music of the world has been the songs of 
 labor, by men and women at their toil, and by the birds 
 of heaven singing to them overhead and around them. 
 And no ears drink in with richer relish the melodies of 
 these outside songsters. No home more safe and wel- 
 come does the swallow find than under the eaves of the 
 poor man's cottage. Go through the densest courts and 
 lanes of Spitalfields, and see what a companionship of 
 bird-life the silk-weavers maintain in their garrets, even 
 when the loaf is too small for their children. The papers 
 recently published a touching and beautiful illustration 
 of the fondness which working-men show for singing 
 birds. When the first English lark was taken to Aus- 
 tralia by a poor widow, the stalwart, sunburnt, hard- 
 visaged gold-diggers would come down from their pits on 
 the Sabbath, to hear it sing the songs they loved to listen 
 to at home in their childhood. An instance still more 
 interesting has been noted lately in connection with one 
 of the large manufacturing towns in North Wales. The 
 men, women, and children employed in the great facto- 
 ries not many times a week heard the lark's song or the 
 music of the free birds of heaven. These loved the 
 bright air and the green, fresh meadows and groves too 
 well to sing many voluntaries in the smoky atmosphere 
 of the furnace and factory. Thus the cheap concerts of 
 
232 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 these songsters cost the operatives of the mills long walks 
 beyond the brick-and«mortar mazes of the town. But 
 thousands come to think them cheap at that price. Well, 
 some time ago a new and strange singer came into the 
 neighborhood, like an invisible spirit, with the music of 
 another world on its tongue. In the dark and stilly- 
 night, when all other birds were silent, this poured forth 
 in distant woods a flood of music most wonderful and 
 strange. What could it be? The like was never heard 
 in that region before. The rumor of its voice spread 
 among the spindles. Men in fustian, after a long day 
 of toil in the greasy factory, walked out silently away, 
 farther and farther across the sooty fields, to the shadow 
 of the woods, and stood there stock still, and held their 
 breath, and listened. Towards midnight there came the 
 notes so strange to their ears ; notes of every song-bird 
 they ever heard, strung on one voice. They decided it 
 all came from one tongue, though, for variation, it might 
 have come from a dozen trained for popular concerts. It 
 all streamed out from one point ; and, besides, they knew 
 the blackbird, thrush, lark, sparrow, and robin were all 
 abed and asleep three hours agone. This' mysterious, 
 invisible thing sang by turns, then chirruped and whis- 
 tled with notes of its own. Night after night they walked 
 the long way to hear it, and talked of its singing at their 
 work by day. Their wives and children wanted to hear 
 it too ; but fhe walk was too long and toilsome for their 
 feet. They got a van to take them to hear the bird per- 
 form its wonderful solos in the woods. It so varied its 
 notes night after night, they thought it sang a new song 
 on each. The van was soon too small for the humble 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 233 
 
 listeners at the concert. So the railway put on a special 
 train to convey them to the Nightingale's Music Hall — 
 the dark wood, lighted from above with the still stars of 
 heaven, aud curtained wdth the drapery of the night. 
 Many a trip the special train made, and hundreds and 
 thousands w^ere the men, women, and children of the 
 hammer, spindle, and loom, who listened with wonder 
 and delight to the invisible bird sent to give them such 
 songs in the night. 
 
 ALEXANDRA AND HIBERNIA. 
 
 If one of the old Norse bards, who, a thousand years 
 ago, wrote songs and sa(^aB for the Iceland firesides 
 lighted by Hecla, could have seen Alexandra's visit to 
 Hibernia, he would have felt his muse touched to unusual 
 inspiration. In his day he sang of many Norse expedi- 
 tions to Ireland ; of raids and ravage on its coasts ; of 
 battles fought ; of heroic deeds of Viking and Berserker. 
 He sang, too, of royal ships with " silken sails and gilded 
 masts ; " of sailor kings and sailor princesses, of their 
 courage, faith, and beauty. How changed the scene from 
 that to this ! How he would have sung had he seen it ! 
 this blue-eyed daughter of the North laying the little hand 
 that is to wield the first sceptre of the world in that of 
 the Cinderella of the British realms ; looking with her 
 sweet face into that of her weeping sister's, which has 
 anon glowed hot and red behind the wettest tears ; speak- 
 ing to that sister's heart soft, low words of sympathy, 
 
234 - Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 clothed with more power than the best utterances of a 
 whole British Parliament, or even the most generous 
 accents of Justice itself! No living poet could sing that 
 scene in such a song as one of the old Norse bards of the 
 tenth century. In no human language would it rhyme 
 so well as in his. He would dip his torch into the fires 
 of Hecla, and crown and zone the Norse blue-eyed queen 
 to be and the black-eyed sister of her future realms with 
 the most gorgeous night-lights of the polar sky. He 
 wcijld tell, in his softened heroics, how the mild sun- 
 light of her little white face blanched that visage on which 
 it shone of every darkening stain of tear and shade of 
 grieving thought, and flooded it with the rose and lily 
 tints of joy and love. He would bring his rainbows, like 
 a roll of ribbons, from Thor's sky-temple, and, unreeling 
 them under the eyes of the bystanding nations, fold them 
 around the two islands as sisters belted in embrace. 
 Both might well learn the language of the Icelandic 
 sagas, to see how such a poem would look and read in 
 its unique letters and metre. Then the name he would 
 choose for Alexandra out of the nomenclature of Scan- 
 dinavian mythology ! One would need to read the whole 
 Heimskringla to guess what he would call her. If there 
 be a bard left who has kept aglow the old Norse fire of 
 song, we hope this visit of Alexandra to Hibernia will 
 set it ablaze. 
 
Social and Artistic Science, ' 235 
 
 THE ANTE-PRINTING POETS OF ENGLAND. 
 
 One may well wonder what was the largest thought of 
 Chaucer in regard to the readers of his immortal poems. 
 How difficult for a modern writer of celebrity to conceive 
 the ambition or expectation of the father of English poe- 
 try in this respect ! Who would read his best thoughts, 
 and how many? How many copies would constitute the 
 largest and last edition of his works? How many copies 
 could a good penman write out in a year, to say noth- 
 ing of illumination? Could the prince and father of 
 English poets reasonably expect that five hundred copies 
 would ever be made in manuscript, and be treasured in the 
 private libraries of the nobility and gentry of his country ? 
 The printing press had not in his lifetime cast the shadow 
 of its advent before it. No writer or reader in Europe 
 had ever conceived of any other than quill-power in 
 making and multiplying books. What a small disk of 
 public mind for his ambition to play on ! to reach and 
 impress five hundred readers with the thoughts that cost 
 him the exercise of the finest genius ! Still he thought 
 and wrote as if for a world. But what a spirit would have 
 moved over his thoughts if he could have caught the . 
 vision of Caxton's press, set up a century after he fin- 
 ished his last poem ! Like all the prophets, apostles, 
 orators, the kings and princes of thought before him, he 
 lived, wrote, and died without that sight. But the print- 
 ing press has not lost sight of him, or of the apostles, 
 prophets, poets, and writers of earlier centuries. From 
 
236 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 the dew of their intellectual life and genius, that scarce 
 filled an acorn's bowl, it has exhaled clouds full of re- 
 freshing rains of thought to water all '' the green lands 
 of song," and the dryer lands of common life. 
 
 In the library of Lichfield Cathedral are several vol- 
 umes worth each more than its weight in gold. One of 
 these was written six hundred years before Chaucer was 
 born, — before the English language was born. It is a 
 copy of the four Gospels in Anglo-Saxon in manuscript, 
 written in the eighth centurv. It once beloni^^ed to the 
 Cathedral of Llandaff, and ran the gantlet of perils in- 
 numerable, passing through many hands. One record 
 of its experience is written by one of the owners in a 
 blank page, stating that he gave a load of hay for it. It 
 w^ould take the hay of several meadows to buy it now. 
 Then by its side is another volume in manuscript, held 
 perhaps at a higher price as a relic and treasure. It is 
 a copy of Chaucer's poems, not only written with ex- 
 quisite taste and skill, but most beautifully illuminated, 
 the gold being as bright as if recently put upon the page. 
 One can but approach the two books with reverence. 
 They are twin head-springs, from each of which have 
 welled rivers of literature and spirit-life. One is the 
 mother of all the Holy Gospels that have gone forth in 
 the English tongue. The other is the mother of all the 
 epics, songs, and ballads that have been printed in that 
 tongue since letters were typed on paper. It is fitting and 
 proper for men of this generation, who face the future 
 with eager expectation, to go back occasionally to these 
 points of departure in the progression of the ages. They 
 will find something behind, as well as before, for grateful 
 thou«:ht. 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 237 
 
 HANDEL'S MESSIAH IN THE CRYSTAL 
 PALACE. 
 
 Over the intervening space of three years our thoughts 
 go back to the Triennial Handel Festival in the Crystal 
 Palace, in the venture to seek expression. The place, 
 the occasion, actors and audience, made the sublimest 
 spectacle we ever w^itnessed. The place — if the Great 
 Eastern steamship were worth its building for the single 
 service of laying down the Transatlantic Telegraph, the 
 Crystal Palace were worth its erection merely as the 
 temple in which to uplift into the bluer heaven above its 
 roofage Handel's Messiah, Every Christian nation owes 
 such a temple to that most glorious song that the listen- 
 ing angels ever heard arising heavenward from the earth. 
 Listening angels? — we say it on the strength of Revela- 
 tion itself. It is not for us to fathom the mysteries of 
 their spiritual being, or to say how they hear without 
 human ears, or sing without human lips. The shepherds 
 heard them singing in Oriental heavens over the manger- 
 cradle of the Messiah ; and Handel has added a bar of 
 music to their song worthy to be sung by them and all 
 the heavenly host that sang chorus to their anthem at 
 the Saviour's birth. Indeed, if it be not irreverent, one 
 might conceive it to be the continuation of that anthem, 
 with but slight change of place and performers. The 
 music and the words seem equally inspired, and from the 
 same source. The great crystal temple looks like a little 
 sky-world let down from heaven, trussed and corded with 
 
238 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 roped sunbeams, with its lofty orchestra filled with a 
 shining host, singing to the multitudes below the story and 
 triumph of the Messiah. Three years have passed since 
 we saw that sight and heard that song, and even our 
 sober second thought of to-day clings to this simile. 
 
 We repeat, every Christian nation owes to the memory 
 and worth of Handel a Crystal Palace, as large and 
 splendid as that of Sydenham, for the ascension of his 
 3Iessiah ; to harmonize the edifice wath the structure and 
 spirit of that great composition. For the building should 
 represent the heavens under which the shepherds watched, 
 as nearly as man could make it. Then it should be 
 large enough to hold a small nation for listening to the 
 song. Then the orchestra should be so lofty and large, 
 that the multitudinous chorus should represent most of 
 the kindreds, tribes, and tongues which John lieard sing- 
 ing in heaven from Patmos. The choristers in the highest 
 seats should appear to send out their hallelujahs just below 
 the fleecy clouds, and the responses to go round from 
 kindred to kindred in the circular amplitude of the choir. 
 And on that soft, sunny day of June, when all the larks 
 of the district were warbling up heavenward with their 
 sweet hallelujahs, we saw and heard all this we have 
 thus prefigured at Sydenham ; and we repeat, it was the 
 sublimest concert of harmonies we ever witnessed, or the 
 long generations have produced. It was the largest 
 human assemblage ever gathered within the circuit of one 
 choral song. Seemingly the sweetest singers of all the 
 earthly Israels of the Christian faith were there. It was 
 the recitative of the ages. The voices of their seers and 
 singers came silvery and soft through the centuries. Id 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 239 
 
 the choral lulls, we heard the mournful murmur of the 
 harps hung on the willows by the rivers of Babylon, as 
 if the winds of the strangers' land sighed in sympathy 
 on the silent strings, and touched them to Eolian strains 
 of grief. Then upspoke, out of the cloud of the dark 
 experiences of Israel, the voice of the prophet, gifted 
 with a vision that reached far over into the after king- 
 dom of the Messiah's glory — "Comfort ye, comfort 
 ye my people ! Speak ye comfortably unto Jerusalem ! " 
 Isaiah himself, as well as we, might have wished that he 
 could have given to those glorious words of cheer and 
 hope the voice of Sims Heeves, which seemed to bring 
 them down from the very heavens above, and drop them 
 like rays of music into all the rapt souls of the great 
 multitude. On and on, through the wild ages of dark- 
 ness, sorrow, grief, and hope, rolled the grand song. 
 Plere and there on the way a voice quavered up out of 
 the eddies of affliction : "I know that ray Redeemer 
 liveth." Then, from out of the plaintive experiences of 
 the captive and sorrowing people emerged the Hope of 
 Israel. He came to the front of their great expectations, 
 that were diademed with brilliant ambitions of national 
 glory. Generations on the other side of the long captivi- 
 ty had watched for the pole-star of the restoration 
 descending upon the throne of David. The prophet who 
 was gifted to see farther and deeper into the Messiah's 
 great Gospel than his fellow-seers, caught a glimpse of 
 the Shiloh in his humble humanity, wearing a crown of 
 thorns instead of imperial diamonds. His eyes became 
 a fountain of tears at the sight, and in them he saw 
 reflected the humiliations and sufferinsjs of the world's 
 
240 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Emmanuel ; and his quivering lips sent up the pathetic 
 plaint, '' He was despised and rejected of men ; a man 
 of sorrows and acquainted with grief!" How soft and 
 mournful were the voices of sympathy and sorrow that 
 told to the world these sad experiences of the Sou of 
 God on earth ! The congregated tribes of Israel, who 
 saw the Cross arising before the throne of David's glory, 
 bowed their heads at the revelation. A cloud, dark and 
 heavy with tears, exhaled from the griefs of ages, passed 
 over them for a moment. And a voice, sweet and clear, 
 came out of the cloud, rending it clean through to the 
 Sun of Righteousness — "But thou didst not leave his 
 soul in hell ; nor didst thou suffer thy Holy One to see 
 corruption ! " Then the tribes arose ; — the whole twelve 
 of them arose and sang, like the voices of many waters, 
 which John heard — " Lift up your heads, O ye gates, 
 and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King cf 
 Glory shall come in ! " The everlasting doors obeyed 
 the summons and opened spontaneously to the mighty 
 song of triumph ; and the great Crystal Temple seemed 
 to lift its arched roofage to the bluer sky above on the 
 uprising flood of hosannas. 
 
 Looking around for some salient circumstance to which 
 to tether our memory of the day, we saw the dusky, boy- 
 ish faces of several young Japanese princes peering out 
 upon the scene from the royal boxes over against the 
 orchestra. It was to us a most striking incident. There 
 sat the young heathens, wdth eyes, mouths, and ears, and 
 all the windows of their souls opening w^ider and wider 
 with rapt astonishment, as the Palace vibrated with the 
 sublime chorals. There they sat right over against the 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 241 
 
 great host of singers, representing in themselves all the 
 peoples " that walked in darkness, and them that dwell 
 in the land of the shadow of death." And the thought 
 was natural and pleasant, that here was the whole of 
 Christendom singing, through its choicest singers, to the 
 whole heathen world the great song of the Saviour's 
 Gospel, Kingdom, and Glory on earth. They told the 
 whole story of the difference between the two hemispheres 
 of human being in a few words — words that the angels 
 who sang to the shepherds could not have uttered to 
 human ears with sweeter modulation. Who that listened 
 will ever forget them ? If voices of men and women had 
 power to go clean around the globe without exhaustion, 
 whose could have sent forth with more thrilling utterance 
 than Titjens, Grisi, Patti, Dolby, and Sherrington gave to 
 them, the words, '* Unto us a child is born ; unto us a 
 son is given " ? It seemed, when the chorus took up the 
 words, and rolled them forth on the great ground-swell 
 of the sublime harmony, as if in very deed all the Chris- 
 tian nations between the poles spoke the triumph in unison ; 
 and spoke it to all the benighted populations of the earth 
 that still walk in darkness. We could not but turn our 
 eyes at every new outburst and turn of the song to look 
 at the copper-colored faces of the Japanese boy-princes, 
 to see if the great light was beginning to shine into their 
 souls. They were evidently lifted, if not lighted. When 
 the grand Hallelujah Chorus began to ascend on its 
 sweeping cycles of glory, like a flood of thunder mellowed 
 to the bass, alto, and treble of human melodies, these 
 easternmost boys of the unlighted world were carried 
 up on the tide of sympathy that lifted the vast multitude. 
 16 
 
242 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 These are some of the thoughts that hover around the 
 Handel Festival of 1865. The intervening space, with 
 all it has brought of varied events, has not dimmed the 
 memory of that occasion. It w^as worthy of a great 
 nation. It was worthy of a great Christendom. 
 
 THE LAW OF KINDNESS, OR THE OLD 
 WOMAN'S RAILWAY SIGNAL. 
 
 The most effective working force in the world in which 
 we live is the law of kindness. For it is the only moral 
 force that operates with the same effect upon mankind, 
 brutekind, and birdkind. From time immemorial music 
 has wonderfully affected all beings, reasoning or un- 
 reasoning, that have ears to hear. The prettiest idea and 
 simile of ancient literature relate to Orpheus playing his 
 lyre to animals listening in intoxicated silence to its 
 strains. Well, kindness is the music of good-will to 
 men and beasts. And both listen to it with their hearts 
 instead of their ears ; and the hearts of both are af- 
 fected by it in* the same way, if not to the same degree. 
 Volumes might be written filled with beautiful ilkistra- 
 tions of its effect upon both. The music of kindness 
 has not only power to charm, but even to transform 
 both the savage breast of man and beast ; and on this 
 liarp the smallest fingers in the world may play Heaven's 
 sweetest tunes on earth. 
 
 Some time ago we read of an incident in America that 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 243 
 
 will serve as a good illustration of this beaiitifal law. 
 It w^as substantially to this effect : A poor, coarse- 
 featured old woman lived on the line of the Baltimore 
 and Ohio Railway, where it passed through a wild, 
 unpeopled district in Western Virginia. She was a 
 widow, with only one daughter living with her in a log 
 hut, near a deep, precipitous gorge crossed by the rail- 
 way bridge. Here she contrived to support herself by 
 raising and selling poultry and eggs, adding berries in 
 their season, and other little articles for the market. 
 She had to make a long, weary walk of many miles to a 
 town where she could sell her basket of produce. The 
 railway passed by her house to this town; but the ride 
 would cost too much of the profit of her small sales ; so 
 she trudged on generally to the market on foot. The 
 conductor or guard came fi.nally to notice her travelling 
 by the side of the line or on the foot-path between the 
 rails ; and, being a good-natured, benevolent man, he 
 would often give her a ride to and fro without charge. 
 The engine-man and brake-men also were good to the old 
 woman, and felt that they were not wronging the interests 
 of the railway company by giving her these free rides. 
 And soon an accident occurred that proved they were 
 quite right in this view of the matter. In the wild 
 month of March the rain descended, and the mountains 
 sent down their rolling, roaring torrents of melted snow 
 and ice into this gorge, near the old woman's house. 
 The flood arose with the darkness of the night, until she 
 heard the crash of the railway bridge, as it was swept 
 from its abutments, and dashed its broken timbers against 
 the craggy sides of the precipice on either side. It was 
 
244 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 nearly midnight. The rain fell in a flood, and the dark- 
 ness was deep and howling. In another half hour the 
 train would be due. There was no telegraph on the 
 line, and the stations were separated by great distances. 
 What could she do to warn the train against the awful 
 destruction it was approaching? She had hardly a tallow 
 candle in her house, and no light she could make of 
 tallow or oil, if she had it, would live a moment in that 
 tempest of wind and rain. Not a moment was to be 
 lost ; and her thought was equal to the moment. She 
 cut the cords of her only bedstead, and shouldered the 
 dry posts, head-pieces, and side-pieces. Her daughter 
 followed her with their two wooden chairs. Up the steep 
 embankment they climbed, and piled their all of house- 
 hold furniture upon the line a feAv rods beyond the black, 
 awful gap, gurgling with the roaring flood. The distant 
 rumbling of the train came upon them just as they had 
 fired the well-dried combustibles. The pile blazed up 
 into the night, throwing its red, swaling, booming light 
 a long way up the line. In fifteen minutes it would 
 begin to wane, and she could not revive it with green, 
 wet wood. The thunder of the train grew louder. It 
 was within ^nq miles of the fire. Would they see it in 
 time? They might not put on the brakes soon enough. 
 Awful thought ! She tore her red woollen gown from 
 her in a moment, and, tying it to the end of a stick, ran 
 up the line, waving it in both hands, while her daughter 
 swung around her head a blazing chair-post a little 
 before. The lives of a hundred unconscious passengers 
 hung on the issue of the next minute. The ground 
 trembled at the old woman's feet. The great red eye 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 245 
 
 of the engine showed itself coming ronnd a curve. 
 Like as a huge, sharp-sighted lion coming suddenly upon 
 a fire, it sent forth a thrilling roar, that echoed through 
 all the wild heights and ravines around. The train was 
 at full speed ; but the brakemen wrestled at their leverage 
 with all the strength of desperation. The wheels ground 
 along on the heated rails slower and slower, until the 
 engine stopped at the roaring fire. It still blazed enough 
 to show them the beetling edge of the black abyss into 
 which the train and all its passengers would have plunged 
 into a death and destruction too horrible to think of, had 
 it not been for the old woman's signal. They did not 
 stop to thank her first for the deliverance. The conductor 
 knelt down by the side of the engine ; the engine-driver 
 and the brakemen came and knelt down by him ; all 
 the passengers came and knelt down by them ; and 
 there, in the expiring light of the burnt-out pile, in the 
 rain and the wind, they thanked God for the salvation 
 of their lives. All in a line the kneelers and prayers 
 sent up into the dark heavens such a midnight prayer 
 and voice of thanksgiving as seldom, if ever, ascended 
 from the earth to Him who seeth in darkness as well 
 as in secret. 
 
 Kindness is the music of good-will to men ; and on 
 this liarp the smallest fingers in the world may play 
 Heaven's sweetest tunes on earth. 
 
246 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 LIFE OF BENEVOLENCE IN ENGLAND. 
 
 It is probable that more money is given to benevolent ob- 
 jects in England than in all the other countries of the world 
 put togother. It is impossible to know the whole amount 
 contributed by individuals to hospitals, schools, and other 
 charitable purposes. We can only guess at this amount 
 from the sums raised by the various religious and be- 
 nevolent societies which hold their yearly meetings in Lon- 
 don. But no one can travel through the country, with an 
 observant eye, without being surprised at the number of 
 associations in almost every town, all working for the 
 poor and needy at home and abroad. In fact, one might 
 think that nearly every man, woman, and child belonged 
 to some one of these little societies. The whole popula- 
 tion seems to be apprenticed to a life of benevolence. 
 Little children are often put upon the pathway of kindly 
 charities as soon as they can run alone. Thus a vast 
 number of persons are early trained to thoughts and acts 
 of good-will towards their fellow-beings. And after all 
 they do, there are, and always will be, objects enough to 
 engage their benevolent efforts. '' The poor ye have al- 
 ways with you," said our Saviour to the Jews. That is 
 true of every country, even of our own beloved land. 
 And it is a sad thought, that as America grows richer, 
 the number of poor people in its cities will increase, and 
 their poverty will become more and more pinching. This 
 will be sad for them, poor things ! sad, indeed, for them, 
 but for the nation it should work much good. Were it 
 
Social and Artistic Science. 247 
 
 not that the poor were always with us ; were there none 
 for us to help, to comfort, to raise ; were there none that 
 needed our sympathy, our aid, counsel, and kindness, — 
 what would become of benevolence? It would die out 
 of our hearts altogether, I fear. Many persons are dis- 
 posed to reproach England because she has so many poor 
 within her borders. Perhaps it is partly her fault, as 
 w^ell as misfortune ; but it is the fault of a thousand 
 years. Things that happened a thousand years ago 
 helped to make a portion of the poverty that now exists 
 along w^ith unbounded wealth in the land. I am in- 
 clined to think, however, that through this poverty many 
 have become rich in good thoughts and good works ; that 
 it has created a vast wealth of benevolence, which is ever 
 flowing, in deep and silent streams, in every direction, 
 even into distant countries, to enlighten and uplift the 
 benighted and down-trodden. Within the last dozen 
 years this benevolence has been working through new 
 and interesting societies, in town, village, and hamlet. 
 It would be a curious sight to see a list of all these little 
 associations. One might wonder how they found names 
 for them all. Some of them are very singular ; and 
 many of our young readers would hardly be able to con- 
 ceive v^hat they meant, without an explanation. What, 
 for instance, v/ould they think that Blanket Societies, 
 Coal Clubs, Penny Savings' Institutes, Branch Bible So- 
 cieties, Twig Bible Societies, Scripture Readers' Associa- 
 tions, &c., were? These are only a few of the associa- 
 tions operating in almost every large town for the good 
 of the needy. Some are engaged in visiting all the 
 houses of the poor, to see that they are provided with 
 
248 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 Bibles. Those who are destitute are supplied on the 
 condition that they pay at least a part of the price of a 
 copy, and this is sometimes not more than twenty-five 
 cents of our money. But even this small sum is frequent- 
 ly paid in little bits, or a penny or two at a time, for the 
 Bible visitor does not tire of calling a dozen times for a 
 shilling, paid by the poor widow by pennies. It has been 
 found the best way to encourage the poor to' help them- 
 selves, and to pay at least a part for what they obtain. 
 They then feel as if they had bought it out of their own 
 little earnings, and it encourages them to try again for 
 something they need. As the cold weather approaches, 
 many a kind mother and wife, seated before her cheerful 
 fire, thinks of the frosty nights in the lowly cottages of 
 the poor ; how that many an infirm and destitute widow 
 will shiver beneath her scanty covering of rags or straw. 
 A Blanket Society, Club, or Association is formed for the 
 purpose of providing these cold and cheerless homes with 
 good warm blankets for the winter. Members of this 
 society will go around among those likely to be destitute 
 of these important articles, and encourage them to save a 
 penny a week, which is deposited in the hands of the 
 treasurer. Then, perhaps, to every shilling thus saved by 
 the poor, benevolent persons of the town will add a shil- 
 ling. Thus a nice thick blanket will be given out, about 
 Christmas, for half its cost, to the penny subscribers. 
 Then frequently a society for furnishing the poor with 
 coal operates in the same way. In almost every town 
 Savings' Institutes are opened to receive the pennies of 
 those who earn but few daily, and who are tempted to 
 spend them in drink. The sums thus deposited can- 
 
 to 
 
Social and Ai^tistic Science. 249 
 
 not be withdrawn, I think, until they reach a certain 
 amount. In this way the wives and chiklren even of 
 intemperate working-men frequently have a little laid 
 by for them to meet the day of sickness or of greater 
 need. 
 
 Now, all these benevolent societies, scattered over the 
 country, give plenty of work to young and old, rich and 
 poor. Every year they deepen and widen the river of 
 good-will to man ; and this river overflows and blesses 
 them who give, more even than those who receive. Its 
 little rills come trickling and singing into the lowest lanes 
 of poverty, even into the very dens of hardened thieves. 
 Those who think these kind thoughts and put their hands 
 to these quiet acts of Christian sympathy, gain more and 
 more faith and courage in their hearts to go on in their 
 work — to go to the most unhopeful and sinful, and en- 
 deavor to recover them and bring them back to a better 
 life. These thoughts and feelings spread a pleasant light 
 over their faces, and their eyes beam with it, and it makes 
 their voices gentle and kind ; and they can go by night into 
 the corners, cellars, and garrets which the worst thieves 
 and vicious people inhabit, and talk to them without fear 
 or danger. 
 
250 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 THE EMPIRE OF PUBLIC OPINION. 
 
 ITS INTELLECTUAL AND MECHANICAL POWERS. 
 
 We know not in what age, or by what sage, that long- 
 questioned and oft-repeated apothegm was first put forth : 
 " Vox populi vox Dei " (" The voice of the people is the 
 voice of God"). A thousand years after its first utter- 
 ance some man of commanding eminence may have 
 gained the credit of being its original author, merely 
 frorft having repeated it impressively at some particular 
 turn or aspect of human affairs. It may have sounded 
 to some ears loudest and truest in the crash of the Bas- 
 tile and of the throne and crown of the Bourbons in the 
 French Hevolution. Certainly vox j^opuli was loud and 
 strong in those startling emotions. But it was a clap of 
 thunder, that shook down a demoralized dynasty, and 
 made far-off despotisrn quake a little. The reverbera- 
 tion was wide, reaching to the extremest promontories 
 of Christendom. But it was but an explosion o*f public 
 sentiment ; and, wide as was its projectile force, it was 
 virtually a local earthquake. The voice of God was not 
 in the earthquake, nor the windy tempest with such em- 
 phasis and might as in that still small voice of public 
 opinion that does not explode in thimder, but moves day 
 and night over the life of nations, and transforms their 
 being, as the omnipotent spirit of the Creator moved over 
 the black deformities of chaos, and shaped it into beauty 
 and order. The vox populi which holds and utters vox 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 251 
 
 Dei is a vital breath, not a fitful wind, bursting forth in 
 hail-storms here and sand-storms there. It is not the 
 breath of one nation. It is the second, sober, settled 
 thought of all the civilized commonwealths of mankind. 
 It is the spontaneous utterance of the universal conscience. 
 It is the sleepless, vital force of a universal sentiment 
 that acts upon governments, legislation, and laws, as did 
 the Spirit of God, in the morning of Creation, upon the 
 face of the waters, and upon the face and form of the 
 earth. 
 
 How little did the first author, or the first believer of 
 that saying, ''Vox popnli vox Dei," see or conceive of 
 the stupendous forces and faculties of public opinion in 
 the later centuries of the world ! How little the un- 
 chained masses that shouted over the fall of the Bastile 
 and the Bourbon monarchy in France dreamt of these new 
 forces of a popular sentiment ; of the enginery it would 
 wield, and which should-ally it to the faculties of omnipo- 
 tence ! At that da}^, gunpowder and the sounding brass 
 and tinkling cymbals of martial music made the loudest 
 voice with which a people could speak their will, rights, 
 and wants to the world. The printing press had not as 
 yet begun to give daily speech to its types. The news- 
 paper had not yet become a power in Christendom. Few, 
 and small, and weak were its weekly sheets, and few and 
 scattered were their readers. Steam and electricity were 
 unborn ; and MacAdam too. Four miles an hour by land 
 or sea was the high average of locomotion for news or 
 new^s-makers. All the nations of Christendom w^ere so 
 many hostile, jealous, concentrated se(/s, walled in from 
 sympathy and companionship with each other by Baby- 
 
252 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 lonish environments of dynastic and popular antipathies 
 centuries old and sky high. Until the breaking out of the 
 American Revolution, followed by the French, there was 
 no such thing as a public sentiment in a wider, nobler 
 sense than the local feeling of a single nation. Even if 
 a people's opinion breathed freely, pure and strong, it 
 did not arise high enough above its natural barriers to 
 mingle in the air which other nations breathed. Thus, 
 up to the beginning of the present century there was no 
 public sentiment of Christendom, or half of Christendom. 
 It was localized to different communities, and it acted 
 only on domestic institutions. In pleading and working 
 for human rights, for just, righteous, and merciful laws 
 at home, it learned to soar with stronger beats over the 
 walls that had bounded and barred its outward flight. 
 It learned the lessons of a wider humanity ; to feel for 
 human wrongs beyond those walls ; to feel and speak for 
 the oppressed of far-off lands ; to be touched with enno- 
 bling sympathies with people struggling for freedom ; to 
 be stirred with the great and everlasting pulses of human 
 nature ; to see in millions groping in the valley and 
 shadow of pagan darkness brother beings of a common 
 immortality. 
 
 Just as public sentiment scaled the cramped walls of 
 nationality, and breathed in the outside air, just in that 
 proportion its mechanical faculties of utterance multiplied 
 in number and power. The printing press worked with 
 longer leverage by night and day. Its lengthened and 
 widened sheets collected and scattered the best thoughts 
 of the public mind among the people by a machinery 
 like that of the dews of heaven. Every faculty that 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 253 
 
 could liken the voice of the people to the voice of God 
 v^as given successively to its utterance. Steam gave all 
 its power to it by sea and land, and abolished four fifths 
 of the old distances between all the communities and 
 capitals of the civilized world. Steam printed and pro- 
 pelled the thoughts of nations, and mingled them in a 
 common atmosphere. It required all this machinery of 
 thought to form a public opinion of the latter-day sense 
 and force of that power ; and that public opinion equally 
 needed some great supernational object on which to con- 
 centrate its unorganized energies. It found just the object 
 it needed in the abolition of African Slavery. This was 
 an outrage on universal humanity. It was the first and 
 only great wrong that confronted the public conscience 
 and sentiment of Christendom when thus organized into 
 a common force for common good. It was just the kind 
 of wrong to educate that public opinion in the struggle 
 for its abolition ; to elevate and strengthen it with new 
 perceptions and convictions of everlasting truth and right, 
 of what man is and owes to God and his fellow-man. 
 These perceptions and convictions, brought out and im- 
 pressed upon the universal conscience during the agitation 
 against slavery, have elevated it to a higher stage of 
 moral sensibility, so that it feels for wrongs and suffer- 
 ings to which it was cold and silent before. The census 
 of benevolent institutions which that sensibility has 
 breathed into life and action since the great anti-slavery 
 agitation in Great Britain, presents a list of remarkable 
 number and variety. The vox populi that broke the 
 chains of eight hundred thousand African slaves in the 
 West Indies was not a clap of thunder ; it was not a 
 
254 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 sudden and sharp explosion of popular sentiment; ifc was 
 not an earthquake ; but if ever vox Dei spoke in human 
 speech it did in that great act of emancipation. 
 
 We have now entered upon a new era and arena of 
 public opinion. That opinion is becoming more and 
 more generalized. It is coming to be internationalized, 
 to be uttered like the chant of nations whose lips are 
 touched simultaneously by the same live coal from the 
 altar of human sympathy. And vox populi is becoming 
 vox Dei in a sense sublime, startling, and almost over- 
 awing. It has taken to itself powers of utterance which 
 a few years ago would have been ascribed only to Omnip- 
 otence ; powers so seemingly supernatural that it almost 
 makes one's heart and hand tremble to describe their 
 capacity in the simplest prose of fact. Did vox populi 
 take these powers by violence ? profanely, sacrilegiously ? 
 No ! Omnipotence opened its mighty hand, and gave will- 
 ingly, fatherly, and lovingly these great gifts to man. It 
 gave to the voice of human opinion a power of utterance 
 which it never gave nor promised to Gabriel's lips ; a 
 power that as much outruns the speed of light as light 
 outruns the heavy footsteps of sound around' the earth. 
 If the seer of old, who looked out from the mountain- 
 cave with half-veiled face to see the Divine Presence pass 
 before him, could have put his trembling fingers to tlie 
 wire of the Trans-Atlantic Telegraph, — if John of Pat- 
 mos could have felt the pulse of its message from tlie 
 Old World to the New, — both would have described it in 
 figures of speech which we may not venture to use. 
 Surely the venerable saint might well believe that several 
 portions of his Apocalypse had been realized ; that '' there 
 
Social and Artistic Science, 255 
 
 was no more sea" separatiag continents; that ''there 
 was time no longer " separating current events from the 
 simuUaneous knowledge of all the nations. 
 
 From this new leverage-point of public opinion let us 
 glance back iuto the past and forward into the future 
 for a moment. If some classic writer of ancient Rome 
 could saj, and some French Revolutionary leader could 
 repeat, vox populi vox Dei, what may we hopefully say 
 and believe of the voice and power of the public senti- 
 ment of Christendom, gifted with these new and stupen- 
 dous energies ? If with the forces given to it by steam, 
 railways, cheap postage, and all the other facilities in- 
 vented to give it movement and momentum, it has driven 
 Slavery out of the world^ and brought down the level of 
 other great sins and miseries, what may, what ought it 
 not do with all these electric wires that thread the oceans, 
 and the seas, and the wide world itself? When any event 
 worth the world's notice may be known the very hour of 
 its occurrence at all the capitals of Christendom ; when, 
 instead of twelve men, twelve great nations may be sum- 
 moned by lightning to sit in jury upon any great act or in- 
 tent of wrong ; when any outrage upon human rights may 
 thrill the palpitating nerves that connect all the Parlia- 
 ments and Congresses of the tv/o hemispheres with all 
 the localities and realities of mankind ; when the thunder 
 of universal opinion may follow instantaneously its light- 
 ning hurled in one burning bolt against a sinning govern- 
 ment or people in the very act and moment of the wrong ; 
 in a word, when the voice of the people is so made by 
 Ilim the speech of God to mankind ; when He has clothed 
 it with sucli omnipotence for His glory and the good of 
 
256 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 man, — what next? What great monster of iniquity, what 
 huge, Gorgon-headed enemy and destroyer of the peoples 
 should fall next under the thunder and lightning of the 
 world's opinion? What new mechanical forces wait we 
 for, what new machinery of thought do the peoples need 
 to sweep War from the face of the civilized world? 
 What more wait they for? Let them feel the edge, the 
 pulse, and the point of these mighty, these almost over- 
 awing instrumentalities of omnipotence put into their 
 hands by Almighty Power and Wisdom. Why should 
 War stand np longer in their midst like the very abomi- 
 nation of desolation, bending them to the earth, bat- 
 tening upon the spoils of their peace and prosperity, 
 consuming their substance, throwing the bread earned 
 with such toil for their children to its greedy dogs? Who 
 shall lead the van? Who shall sound the charge of the 
 nations against the great Destroyer? 
 
INDUSTRIAL AND FINANCIAL 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
THE WORLD'S WORKING-MEN'S STRIKE 
 AGAINST WAR. 
 
 Nations, like individuals, often come to junctures in 
 their lives where two, if not four, roads meet, and one of 
 these they must take with all the hazards of the choice. 
 The world has seen pretty clearly the road which all the 
 nations of Europe have been travelling for the last 
 quarter of a century. The world sees now what their 
 armed-peace system has brought them to. For all this 
 period thay have been running neck and neck in this 
 costly and perilous race of war armaments. This 
 delusion has grown by that it fed upon. Every addi- 
 tional regiment on land, or iron-clad put on the sea by 
 one, has created more suspicion in the other, and that 
 suspicion has reproduced its kind in defences against the 
 increased danger. Thus, while all these nations have 
 been stoutly protesting against an intention to invade or 
 injure a neighbor offensively^ their defences have been 
 steadily growing from year to year, until they have 
 reached that point and peril of magnitude at which 
 Disraeli has called them " bloated armaments." 
 
 This, then, is the juncture at which two roads meet on 
 the highway thus far travelled by the nations of Europe. 
 They are now to determine whether they will go straight 
 forward in the old beaten track, or diverge into a new 
 path. At this junction-point there are several finger- 
 posts of much significance, and a mile-stone covered 
 
 259 
 
26o Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 with deeply-engraved figures relating to the periodical 
 totals of past experience. All these should be like 
 warning voices before and behind them at the opening 
 of the new road, saying, '' This is the way ; walk ye 
 therein." With all these voices from before and behind 
 them, will they take the new road ? If they do, they must 
 first hold a council at the junction. We cannot expect 
 that one of them will be brave enough to enter it alone. 
 They must hold a congress to agree upon taking step and 
 keeping step in this new march in another direction. 
 
 There is no time to lose in this decision. The great, 
 honest, toiling masses of the world have waited for them 
 loDg to take this new road. These masses are beginning 
 to feel a strength that their governments would do well to 
 heed now, before it takes an inconvenient direction for 
 the powers that be. . They have been feeling for some 
 time past the strength of a common sentiment, interest, 
 and experience, and inheritance. They are beginning to 
 get their eyes open to some of the wicked delusions that 
 have victimized them in past generations. They begin 
 to see whither they have been led, and how they have 
 been cheated, by the siren lights and siren songs of a 
 false patriotism. And while this deceptive music was 
 still in their ears, they have shaken hands with each 
 other across the boundaries that once made them enemies. 
 And the hands they interfolded in friendly grasp felt very 
 much like each other, hard and horny with their common 
 lot. And they have compared the blisters and callous 
 ridges made on their hands by " foreign policies." They 
 have weighted and compared the burdens put upon them 
 by their governments, and found and said that the most 
 
Industrial and Financial ^lestions. 261 
 
 crushing of them all was the Armed-Peace System of 
 Christendom. And their governments, at the junction of 
 the two roads, will do well to heed now, and honestly, 
 what these w^orking-men, in congress assembled, feel, and 
 say, and determine in regard to this system. Their feel- 
 ing and meaning grow stronger and louder on the subject 
 every time they meet in their international assembly ; and, 
 doubtless, they will meet every year, and their annual 
 parliaments will begin soon to legislate for the grand 
 democracy of labor throughout the civilized world. And 
 " the Great Powers," at the junction of the two roads, 
 will do well to heed this habit of their working-men of 
 sending their representatives, chosen at primary meet- 
 ings, to these annual parliaments. It is a very signifi- 
 cant and portentous habit in itself. And their agenda 
 Siudfacienda are more portentous still to the powers that 
 be. If they work out their programme, it will upset the 
 classic poetry of that malignant patriotism which worships 
 silken rags covered with bestial emblems, and sacrifices 
 to the idolatry more human blood than all the pagan 
 altars of this wide world ever drank this side of the 
 murder of Abel. It is very rude, very unsentimental 
 and unpatriotic, for them to say and purpose these things 
 when they come together in this way. It will doubtless 
 shock the sensibilities of the whole military aristocracy of 
 Christendom, and of all the students, professors, and 
 amateurs of the school and history of military glory, to 
 hear what these working-men will say in the next session 
 of their parliament. They have said strong things before 
 about war and its burdens upon them. But this time 
 their representatives will have to pass to their assembly 
 
262 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 half a million of fresh graves in France and Germany, 
 wherein lie, like buried dogs, half a million of their own 
 fraternity of toil, taken from honest labor to mutual 
 butchery on the field of battle. They will see a million 
 of blackened, blasted homes on their way, and widows 
 and orphans trying to quench the still red ashes of those 
 homes w^ith their own tears. They will see wan, arm- 
 less or legless men, by the ten thousands, begging on 
 crutches, by the roadside, for the bread they once earned 
 and ate by the sweat of the brow. Now, these sights 
 and the low, faint voices of woe they will see and hear 
 on their way to their parliament wdll very sensibly affect 
 their discussions, and give an utterance and a character 
 to their resolutions which their governments, at the 
 junction of the two roads, will do well to heed in advance, 
 anticipate and supersede by their own action. Such ac- 
 tion, honest, and effective, and immediate, is their only 
 alternative, if they would evade or check the rising of a 
 power too strong for their old '• foreign policy." 
 
 What is asked of the Great Powers, at the junction of 
 the two roads, is a very simple, straightforward matter. 
 It is the step proposed to them, before these late and 
 bloody wars, by Louis Napoleon ; to convene a Congress 
 of Nations to agree upon a ratio of general and simul- 
 taneous disarmament. The idea was not original with 
 him ; for it had been developed and propounded by 
 eminent philosophers and philanthropists for two hun- 
 I dred years. But he was the first reigning sovereign in 
 the world that ever proposed the measure to the nations. 
 We may justly say that for him in his prison, which he 
 would never have seen had the other Great Powers 
 
Industrial and Financial ^icstions* 263 
 
 accepted his proposition. The toiling, patient masses of 
 the great commonwealth of labor do not ask a great deal 
 of these powers ; they do not say how far in the new 
 road they shall reach at the first step, but that they shall 
 make one, however small. They know what a thorny 
 crop of suspicions the armed-peace system has grown 
 among them. Therefore they will be contented with a 
 very short step that brings their faces and feet in the 
 right direction. Even if they should only venture to 
 reduce their standing armies by sending home to the 
 plough or hammer one man in five, they would be 
 satisfied with the installment, knowing that it Avould be 
 followed by larger redujctions. Even a reduction of one 
 fifth of the present armed-peace expenditure, to begin 
 with, would so lighten the burden upon the masses of the 
 people of Christendom that they would feel the relief at 
 every meal and at every hour of their toil. Just think 
 what that small, tentative reduction would do. In the 
 first place, it would send back to peaceful and reproductive 
 labor nearly a million of picked, stalwart men from the 
 armies of Europe. See what it would do for England, 
 who does not pretend to be a military power in the 
 French or German sense. One fifth taken from the 
 expense of her armed-peace establishment for 1870 
 would be £5,600,000. Think what taxes might be 
 lifted from the people by that small ratio of reduction. 
 But the working-men and women in France, Germany, 
 Italy, and other continental countries w^ould be more 
 relieved still by this reduction, because their wages do not 
 average, in the gross, more than half what their English 
 brethren receive for their labor. 
 
264 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Now, if the press, the platform, and the pulpit of these 
 Christian countries have any power with their govern- 
 ments, every consideration that should move them 
 ought to enlist their best influence in behalf of a Con- 
 gress of Nations for this one object, to begin with, 
 whatever other measures it might subsequently accom- 
 plish. The necessity is very pressing for such a con- 
 gress, to be convened before the next parliament of the 
 working-men of Christendom. Their national organiza- 
 tions, represented in these parliaments, are growing more 
 and more powerful. And when they meet next time, 
 they will see the condition and prospects of their class 
 in a new light, and feel them with a new sensibility. 
 They may not strive to alter the past, but they will 
 grasp at their future with a rough strength of heart and 
 hand which the Great Powers, at the junction of the two 
 roads, will do well to anticipate and avoid. Poor, 
 patient masses ! thousands and tens of thousands of 
 them have fought, bled, and died for national territory 
 who could not buy enough in that or their own land to 
 make their graves in. They cannot change this new and 
 horrible past of one year's length. This huge abomina- 
 tion of desolation wrought upon the late peaceful and 
 sunny bosom of Europe will fall upon their industry and 
 life of toil and trial with a burden they never bore before. 
 As the yoke upon the necks of two working oxen presses 
 upon each with equal weight, so the yoke of this great 
 war's burden will bear with equal weight upon the raw 
 necks of the French and German working-classes. They 
 will have to work out the damages done to each other by 
 this war. The yoke will gall and bend alike victors and 
 
Industrial and Financial Questions. 265 
 
 vanquished ; and the weight will tell on every plough, 
 sickle, and spindle in Europe, and on every meal earned 
 by these honest tools. 
 
 This is the new weight that the armed-peace system 
 has just now added to the burdens it had before put upon 
 the working-classes of Europe. Now, then, if the Great 
 Powers, at the junction of the two roads, do not say to 
 this destroying angel, begottened and winged of their 
 madness and folly, " It is enough/' its millions of patient 
 victims, even without a Moses, may break the bondage, 
 and find on their side and behalf the same God who led 
 an equal number of working-men, more lightly taxed, to 
 a better land and condition. It may appear unnatural 
 and unseemly for an edge-tool to rebel and turn against 
 the hand that wields it. It will doubtless spoil the 
 romance of modern chivalry, and many martial songs 
 of military glory, if the " food for powder " should rebel 
 at the cannon's mouth. It may even disgust the classic 
 predilections of the great class of hero-worshippers and 
 hero-makers if the working-men of Christendom venture 
 to put an end to such pretentions valuations upon their 
 earthly possibilities as to believe they are worth more 
 for producing food for man and beast than for feeding 
 with their own flesh and blood the hungry maws of 
 mortars and mitrailleitses on fields of human slaughter. 
 But the Great Powers, at the junction of the two roads, 
 must face the alternative before them. These working- 
 men have been practising for several years on " strikes," 
 organized to affect their condition throughout large 
 sections of their country. They have been perfecting 
 the machinery and the forces of these combinations 
 
266 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 for a wider field of action, and in their last parliament 
 they decided upon the field for employing their co-opera- 
 tive forces ; they proposed a Strike against War, and the 
 whole armed-peace system, when they last met. If they 
 had motive then for this resolution what a trebled one 
 will they have at their next session to carry out that 
 resolution ! This, then, is the alternative : either a Con- 
 gress of Nations for simultaneous and proportionate dis- 
 armament, or an organized strike of the working-men 
 of Christendom against war, root and branch. The 
 Great Powers, at the junction of the two roads, must 
 choose without delay which of these two measures they 
 wall adopt. 
 
 THE MOST HIGHLY-TAXED LUXURY IN 
 THE WORLD. 
 
 It has become an axiom of political economy, recog- 
 nized by all governments, and especially, popular with 
 the industrial masses, that luxuries should bear the heav- 
 iest tax for revenue. It is a favorite and natural idea 
 among the laboring classes, that the articles w^hich the 
 rich only can buy and enjoy should be taxed at such a 
 figure that those which poor men need may go '' scot 
 free." Most governments admit and adopt this princi- 
 ple, apparently, in regard to some articles of comsump- 
 tion. They tax silks, furs, jewelry, &c., heavily, and 
 the rich, perhaps, buy them all the more readily for this 
 enhancement of cost, valuing them more for the price 
 
Industrial and Financial Questions. 267 
 
 than for the real worth of them. But governments de- 
 rive their greatest revenues from the tax they levy on the 
 appetites of the common vrorking masses of the people. 
 Now, in the best of countries, there are at least twenty 
 men who work for wages against one who employs them. 
 And these working-men have as large bodies to clothe, 
 as hungry stomachs to feed, as their employers, or any 
 of the rich capitalists of the land. They not only con- 
 sume twenty times as much tea, coifee, and sugar as the 
 capitalist class, but they contract the costliest appetites 
 in the world. And these appetites of working-men yield 
 to governments the richest sources of revenue. The 
 stronger the appetites, the heavier tax wiM they bear. 
 Thus governments have a large pecuniary interest in 
 stimulating them, or "working" them, as people say of 
 mines. Now, the appetite for tobacco is one of the 
 strongest ever contracted. It bears the heaviest tax that 
 European governments ever imposed upon any article of 
 consumption. It has been worth more to England, as a 
 source of direct revenue, than all the gold mines of Aus- 
 tralia. Then, the appetite for intoxicating spirits, which 
 is more general, is still a richer pasturage for taxation. 
 And this, too, is the appetite of the working-classes, as 
 much as, or more than, that of the rich. As they number 
 twenty times the rich, they produce twenty times more 
 drinkers, and twenty times as much revenue for their 
 government from the consumption of spirits. Although 
 tobacco will bear a tax in England of from three hundred 
 to five hundred per cent., while alcohol will not bear one 
 eighth of that impost, the latter produces quite as much 
 revenue, from its more general use. 
 
268 Ten-Mznute Talks. 
 
 Thus we see that the strongest physical appetites of 
 the masses in different countries are taxed more heavily 
 than their desires and longings for the necessaries of life, 
 as food, clothing, furniture, housing, and education. These 
 appetites are the luxuries of rich and poor alike, and 
 they are thus taxed in the articles that gratify them. I 
 have called these rich sources of revenue to governments 
 physical appetites. They are the longings or yearnings 
 of the palate, stomach, or nervous system of man ; the 
 cry of his physical nature for something that shall give 
 it a momentary sensation of pleasure ; and perhaps this 
 sensation is generally realized when that something is 
 granted. To be charitable and generous, we will call it 
 an innocent accident that the governments of Christen- 
 dom find themselves in the condition to regard these un- 
 healthy and universal appetites of their peoples as their 
 safest, surest, and richest sources of revenue. Govern- 
 ments are human as well as common men, and as they 
 need money as much, why, it is according to nature that 
 they should regard such pecuniary resources as individ- 
 uals regard an ill wind that blows a great good to them, 
 though it destroys the lives and property of hundreds at 
 a distance. 
 
 But what are the taxes levied on all the physical ap- 
 petites in the wide world compared with the tax imposed 
 by its foremost nations on one single appetite of the mind, 
 which can honestly be called by no other name than Sus- 
 picion? What would become of taxes on silks, teas, 
 coffee, spirits, and tobacco, were it not for this ''aching 
 void " in the minds of nations ? Suspicion is the mother 
 of all the custom-houses in Christendom ; for what a 
 
Indust7'ial and Financial ^icstions. 269 
 
 preposterous fantasy it would be in any nation to erect 
 custom-houses, and all the costly machinery of indirect 
 taxation, merely to pay the cost of its civil government! 
 All the taxation, all the burdens that the masses in Eng- 
 land, France, Germany, and other countries have felt for 
 a hundred years, have been imposed on them by Suspi- 
 cion — that hungry vampire, which poisons the mind of 
 a nation while it consumes its best attributes. AH the 
 wars that have desolated Europe for a century have been 
 produced by Suspicion. The great Civil War that rent 
 the American Union in twain for four years, and red- 
 dened it with its best blood, was the product of the same 
 sentiment — a suspicion on the part of the South that the 
 North was going to do something terrible to it when it 
 should attain to a power equal to its disposition. 
 
 It is quite common and natural to point to England as 
 the nation most dominated and victimized by Suspicion. 
 She has undoubtedly exhibited more paroxysms of the 
 sentiment than any other country. For several decades 
 of profound peace, and without the slightest unfriendly 
 act or word on the part of her neighbor, she has had a 
 quartennial " French invasion panic." These periodical 
 excitements show the nature of the sentiment very clear- 
 ly. Put in frank and honest speech, and in the mouth 
 of an individual man, it means this : " I am a polished 
 Christian gentleman, but all my neighbors are pagans 
 and pirates. The one nearest me is the worst of all, and 
 I fear him the most. To be sure, I cannot say that he 
 ever injures or insults me ; indeed, he is very polite, and 
 professes to be very friendly to me. But I have no con- 
 fidence in him ; I believe him to be a pirate at heart, and 
 
270 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 ready to waylay me, or burn my house over my head, if 
 he should catch me off my guard, or not armed to the 
 teeth against him. Don't tell me that because I arm 
 myself so against him he ought to arm against me. Why, 
 I am a Christian gentleman. Do you suppose that I am 
 such a base buccaneer as to pounce upon him because 
 he is unarmed? Whom do you take me to be, in sug- 
 gesting such a possibility ? ' Is thy servant a dog, that ho 
 should do this great thing' of crime and shame? Can 
 you, who know me, really believe that all the rifles, re- 
 volvers, and bowie-knives that I carry with me day and 
 night can affect my disposition or deportment towards 
 him, or can give him any reason to fear any injury or in- 
 sult from me ? — from me, a Christian gentleman ! I 
 scorn the imputation." 
 
 Yes ; England, an enlightened and noble-hearted na- 
 tion, scorns the imputation. She is a good and honora- 
 ble neighbor. IShe is actuated by the most friendly dis- 
 positions towards France, and, although she arms herself 
 against that neighbor more than against all the other 
 powers of the world put together, it is not from any un- 
 friendly intention or feeling. If France should scuttle 
 every one of her war-ships, and disband every one of her 
 regiments, she would be as safe, so far as England is 
 concerned, as she is to-day with all her present armaments. 
 Of course she would be. It would be safe in us and all 
 other nations to believe it. Yes ; " they are all honora- 
 ble " powers. Germany could and would say the same 
 to France to-day, and say it honestly. It is doubtful if 
 there is a man in civil or military life in the German 
 empire who does not in his heart honestly believe, and 
 
Industrial and Financial .^estions. 271 
 
 would honestly say, that if France had not a single regi- 
 ment or a single frigate, she would be as free from attack 
 or insult on the part of Germany as she is to-day, or as 
 she was five years ago. Russia could and would say the 
 same to Sweden, Prussia, and Austria. And why should 
 not the whole world believe that these nations were sin- 
 cere and truthful in such protestations? Are there any 
 facts in their history to disprove the truth of these pro- 
 fessions? Glance at their history. Has any one of 
 them for the last fifty years touched another with a finger 
 of violence or wrong? Has any one of them perpetrated 
 an international insult on the other? If so, when, where, 
 how? But there have been terrible wars in Europe and 
 America, not only between nations, but between parts of 
 nations? To be sure. But every one of them has been 
 a war of suspicion. Look at the Crimean war. Did 
 Russia touch England, France, Italy, or even Turkey, 
 with a little finger of violence before they rushed upon 
 her with their armies? No: not one of them can say 
 she did this. It was not an overt act on her part that . 
 precipitated or ''drifted" them into the war, but a sifs- 
 jpected intention. It was because if she were allowed a 
 protectorate over the Greek Christians in Turkey, she 
 might, in some future year, make it the pretence of going 
 to war with that power, and thus take Constantinople, 
 and oust the Mohammedan despotism out of Europe, and, 
 in years still more future, march eastward, even to India. 
 Then there came the terrible war between Germany 
 and France. Can any reasoning mind believe that that 
 was not a war of suspicion ? Was it not, pure and sim- 
 ple, a product of the old balance-of-power theory? Or 
 
272 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 because the German states had consolidated themselves 
 into a compact and mighty empire, abutting upon France 
 for its whole length ; and because, in addition to this 
 augmentation of power, Germany proposed to outflank 
 France by putting a Prussian prince on the throne of 
 Spain ? What was there in the act alone of consolidating 
 the German states into such an empire, or in giving 
 Spain a Prussian king, that was injurious to France? 
 Nothing. The war was one of sheer suspicion. It was 
 predicated solely on the new possibility that Germany 
 had acquired — a possibility that might generate an in- 
 tention, which might pass into an act. Take the great 
 civil war in America ; and none ever waged was more the 
 offspring of suspicion. The whole outside world will 
 testify that the North had never, by an overt act, given 
 the South cause to believe that it would ever lay a linger 
 of force upon southern slavery, though the free states 
 should come to number fifty against fifteen slave states. 
 It was not for the past that the latter plunged headlong 
 into the gulf of secession. It was a future that they 
 feared. It was from a mere suspicion that a new possi- 
 bility would beget a new intention, and a new inten- 
 tion would beget a new act, which would swamp the 
 South with the wreck of its " peculiar institution." 
 Thus all the great wars that have been waged in Chris- 
 tendom for fifty years have been wars of suspicion ; and 
 nineteen twentieths of all the war-armaments that lie like 
 loads of lead upon the nations are the sole products of 
 that unmanly and degrading sentiment. 
 
 " How happy it is for our great Republic that we are 
 sundered by a wide ocean from European states under 
 
Industrial and Financial ^lestions. 273 
 
 the domination of this balance-of-power rule ! " We 
 often hear this sentiment in different forms of congratula- 
 tion. Yes ; we are free from the European balance-of- 
 power fantasy ; but there is not a nation in the old world 
 that so needlessly yields itself a victim to suspicion as 
 this great country. For fifty years and more no power 
 in Europe has touched our territory, our rights, honor, 
 or interests with its little finger of violence, injury, or 
 insult. Accidents have happened which have been un- 
 happy. We have had boundary and other questions that 
 have led to some irritation ; but all these have been peace- 
 fully settled by negotiation or arbitration. Searching 
 the record for half a century, we cannot put our finger 
 upon any act which indicates a sentiment of ill will or 
 evil intent on the part of any nation towards us. But 
 suppose such an intent did or could exist ; let us see what 
 possibility it could achieve. Well, then, there is not a 
 power in Europe that could send across the ocean at once 
 a force of fifty thousand infantry and cavalry, with the 
 arms and equipments, forage, food, and ammunition, for 
 both. There is not a power in Europe that could land 
 such a force on our shores in less than three days and 
 nights, even if no one opposed them. If any naval or 
 military reader doubts the truth of this statement, let 
 him consult the statistics of the Crimean war. If these 
 do not convince him of the impossibility I have assumed, 
 let me ask him what he thinks fifty thousand men would 
 be expected to do or become by the power that sent them 
 to a distant continent, peopled by a nation of forty mil- 
 lions ! Certainly, they could not come for conquest. 
 Could they possibly come for revenge or retaliation ? For 
 18 
 
274 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 what act on our part? What act in the past are we con- 
 scious of, or that any other nation remembers against us, 
 which could provoke such a senseless invasion ? If we 
 have not committed such an act in the past, do we intend 
 to do it when we number fifty millions? 
 
 Then what is the meaning, intent, or use of these ten 
 new ships of war to be added to our navy? Are they to 
 fight the Indians on either side of the Eocky Mountains ? 
 Why is this new and costly armament to be put upon 
 this tax-burdened nation? What contingency does it 
 anticipate ? Is it to provide a new squadron for a new 
 Corean expedition, or the bombardment of another Grey- 
 town, or any other foreign hamlet or village? Is it to 
 escort our merchant vessels to the West or East Indies, 
 to China or Japan, or to protect our coasts or commerce 
 against pirates? If not for any of these uses, then 
 what one power in Europe do they refer to ? for our past 
 experience proves that we must deal with European na- 
 tions singly. . Is it England that is coming over here to 
 invade us, or are we going to invade her with these ten 
 new ships of war? For what possible cause either way? 
 Certainly not for any cause less aggravated than the 
 questions we have just settled by arbitration. Certainl}/- 
 even an "Alabama question" can never be possible 
 again, even if we have another civil war, for the same 
 cause that produced the last. Here is a tabula rasa be- 
 tween the two nations. Even all their boundary ques- 
 tions are " off." Then what can she do to us, or we to 
 her, in future, that we cannot and shall not settle as easily 
 and satisfactorily as any difficulty we submitted to a sat- 
 isfactory Q-rbitriation last year ? Are these new war-ships 
 
Industrial and Financial ^lestions. 275 
 
 to affect our disposition or attitude towards her? Are we 
 goiug to pounce upon Canada, and compel the Dominion 
 to volunteer, as Patrick would say, to unite with us ; or. 
 are we, with this new naval force, going to do anything to 
 her, or any other power, which might provoke a quarrel ? 
 These are questions which the American people should 
 consider. Are we forever to follow in the wake of 
 European powers ; to drift ia the current of this cow^ard- 
 ]y suspicion that has so long victimized them ? The ex- 
 penses of the Navy Department during the last fiscal 
 year amounted to $21,249,809, or more than twice as 
 much as it cost during the costliest year of war with 
 Great Britain, or in 1815. Put our naval armaments 
 in the two periods together. In the last war, for 1814 
 and 1815, whole amount, $15,971,291. In 1872, a year 
 of profound peace, except the Corean glory, $21,249,809. 
 Thus last year's naval expenses cost us $5,000,000 more 
 than they cost during two years of war with Great Brit- 
 ain. But the old hungry horse-leech still cries, " Give ! 
 give ! " It cries for ten new war-ships, each of which, 
 wuth its armament, will cost nearly $1,000,000, and to 
 " run " it full-manned, as much as all that Harvard or 
 Yale receives for the education they impart. It is time 
 for the patriotic and Christian public to give second sober 
 thought to this unrepublican tendency of sentiment and 
 action. We boast that we have no standing army after 
 the European standard of force. But we conceal from 
 ourselves, if not from foreign powers, the vast expendi- 
 tures of time and money which our military system in- 
 volves. There is not a state in the Union that does not 
 pay more for the drilling and arms of its militia than 
 
276 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 for its normal school for training teachers to educate its 
 children. And there is not a train-band in the Union 
 that is not sustained as a contingent to the national army, 
 and a contribution to the expense of our military system ; 
 and both army and navy are only a tax on the luxury of 
 suspicion. 
 
POLITICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
ATTENUATION OF SUFFRAGE IN THE 
 UNITED STATES. 
 
 During the last ten years, two very vivid imper- 
 sonations have figured before the public mind — one in 
 America, the other in England. This important person- 
 ao^e has been called "the intellio^ent contraband" with 
 US, in England he is called " the intelligent foreigner," 
 whose name, presence, and opinions are so often quoted 
 in Parliament, and exert such influence upon its proceed- 
 iogs. There is no potentate in Europe so potent in Eng- 
 land as " the intelligent foreigner ; " none whose impres- 
 sions are so much respected or feared. This sentiment 
 of deference to an observing but invisible outsider is 
 natural and creditable. It recognizes the fact that others 
 may see us with their own eyes instead of ours ; that the 
 view of a country and its institutions from an outside 
 stand-point may, and even must, be somewhat different 
 from the view from an inside point of observation. It is 
 therefore natural and desirable that we should like to 
 know what " the intelligent foreigner" thinks of us. 
 
 With our stoutest faith in our republican institutions, 
 and with all our pretended indifference to the opinion of 
 them which European outsiders may hold, it is quite 
 evident that we are '' chips of the old block," to every 
 straight or twisted grain. We cannot, and do not, 
 ignore " the intelligent foreigner ; " and he is an ever- 
 
 279 
 
28o Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 present personage among us, whose supposed or possible 
 opinion is as much thought of in this country as in Eng- 
 land. He is the most useful personage in the world to any 
 nation or government, and the most influential. He is a 
 kind of supplementary conscience to both — the living 
 and speaking impersonation of the outside world's opin- 
 ion, which no autocracy or despotism can banish from 
 its dominion. He performs a service for the best gov- 
 ernment which no loyal subject or citizen can supply. 
 For it is difficult, if not impossible, for such a subject, 
 with his heart full of love and pride for his country, to 
 abstract himself from his loyalty so far as to see it and 
 its institutions as the impartial and thoughtful outsider 
 sees them. I will not pretend to be able to do this more 
 approximately than the most concentrated and uncom- 
 promising patriot in the land. I will not try to erect a 
 stand-point of observation even on the extreme verge or 
 rim of our Republic, and to say how the inward view 
 looks to an eye cleared by that atmosphere. One does 
 not need to go from the centre to the circumference of our 
 institutions, or from the present to the past or future, to 
 see some of their tendencies and results. And some of 
 these I would most earnestly commend to the thoughtful 
 consideration of those who may notice these reflections. 
 
 As in the past, and in all the future they are to see 
 and share, England and America have been, and are to 
 be, neck and neck, hand and hand, and foot and foot, in 
 moral and political being and progress. I associate them, 
 and compare their footsteps on the high road of demo- 
 cratic development and power. We are, perhaps, the 
 foremost among the nations in applying the derogatory 
 
Political Questions. 281 
 
 term insular to the English mind. We speak of her 
 insular views, policies, and prejudices, just as if the form 
 and the contracted area of one island of her empire must 
 naturally narrow and contract her mind and thought, 
 forgetting that, by the same measure, a nation that belts 
 almost without a break the great globe itself, with its 
 mauy-tongued and populous communities, ought to have 
 the largest views of any power in the world. But, at the 
 worst, if England is insular^ America is equally conti- 
 nental in mind and speech. And one is just as exagger- 
 ated as the other, ourselves being witnesses. What sen- 
 timent does the intelligent foreigner or the intelligent 
 citizen hear in so many forms and phases of expression 
 as, " This is a great country " ? This " great-country " 
 impression and phraseology enter into the very life, 
 thought, and being of the nation, and crop out in every 
 form, and figure, and illustration. One can almost detect 
 in them the idea that the continent itself, from ocean to 
 ocean, is a republican institution created by an Act of 
 Congress ; that the Mississippi and our greatest rivers, 
 lakes, mountains, forests, and prairies are the achieve- 
 ments of " the smartest nation on earth," in the lan- 
 guage of a popular boast. Now if we are not to mind 
 what the intelligent foreigner says of us, I think every 
 thoughtful reader must have noticed this tendency of the 
 American mind to " rob Peter to pay Paul," or to at- 
 tribute to our political institutions what we owe to nature. 
 This habit ignores or depreciates that debt, and gives to 
 them an honor, power, and result which the thoughtful 
 citizen, as well as the best-minded outsider, cannot admit. 
 Now in this competition or comparison between the 
 
282 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 insular and the continental^ I will not here put the actual 
 achievements of English legislation against the acts of 
 the American Congress for the last eighty years. I will 
 only compare the two peoples in the machinery and ca- 
 pacity of their democratic power and progress ; and I 
 will ask the reader to examine the comparison thought- 
 fully, to see if it diverges from the line of fact at any 
 stage of it. In the first place, then, let us notice the con- 
 stitutional, deliberate, and well-organized arrangements 
 to attenuate the suffrage and citizen-power of the Ameri- 
 can people ; to lessen their political value, and to bar or 
 break the force of their opinion on the government. It 
 would require a volume to set forth the elaborate system 
 of checks and balances our national constitution provides 
 thus to interpose buffers to break the force of popular 
 opinion on the wheels of state. — to use a railroad figure. 
 Let us first take the decennial apportionment, and see 
 how the census literally decimates the w^orking power of 
 that opinion. We started off as the truest and com- 
 pletest representative government in the world, as we 
 claimed, with the old thirteen states, and a population of 
 less than four millions. The first Congress, in both 
 Houses, numbered nearly three hundred members, or a 
 representative to every fourteen thousand men, women, 
 and children of the population. Great Britain, at the 
 same date, had in her two Houses of Parliament about 
 one thousand representatives for fifteen millions of the 
 people, or one to every fifteen thousand. So our young 
 nation was ahead of her mother in representative force in 
 the matter of number, to say nothing of quality. But by 
 a constitutional arrangement it was provided that the suf- 
 
Political Questions. 283 
 
 frage power of the American citizen should be diminished 
 at the rate of more than ten per cent, every decade. In 
 1810 every man, woman, and child in the Uoited States 
 was the twenty-four thousandth part of a member of 
 Congress in a political capacity. In 1830 the " new 
 apportionment" axe fell upon every individual of the 
 country, and lopped off more than a tenth of his politi- 
 cal valuation at the ballot-box, so that he became only 
 the thirty-two thousandth part of an M. C. At each 
 successive decade the same well-sharpened axe fell upon 
 him with equal effect. In 1840 he was reduced to about 
 the fifty thousandth part ; and now he will probably stand 
 at the ballot-box weighing in the scales of suffrage only 
 the one hundred and twenty-five thousandth part of a 
 member of the national Congress. Such is the sliding 
 scale which our republican constitution and custom pro- 
 vide for the attenuation of American suffrage. There is 
 no representative government in the world in which the 
 individual has so little ballot power as in ours. Count- 
 ing out four hundred and fifty members of the House of 
 Lords, as no representatives at all of the people of the 
 United Kingdom, every man, woman, and child in Eng- 
 land, Scotland, and Ireland is the 'forty thousandth part 
 of a member of the House of Commons ; that is, every 
 subject of that kingdom has three times the ballot power 
 of an American citizen, putting the House of Lords, or 
 its representation, entirely out of count. 
 
 Having thus provided for the decennial decimation of 
 the ballot power of the. people, a very astute system of 
 checks and balances was adopted to huff off the direct 
 action of this diminished power on the government. One 
 
284 Ten- Minute Talks, 
 
 might infer that the venerated authors of this system 
 thought it unsafe to let in the rough breath of public 
 opinion directly upon the nobility of the higher elective 
 offices of the nations ; that it must be softened and di- 
 luted, if not by intervening non-conductors, at least by 
 ingenious respirators, to modify its force. In a word, 
 no higher dignity in our Republic was to be approached 
 broadside on, and chosen direct by the people, than that 
 of member of the Lower House at Washington. Poor 
 man ! the constitution provides no buiFer nor breakwater 
 to break the force of the people's will, opinion, and choice 
 in regard to him. It leaves him to the tender mercies 
 or adroit manipulations of political rings and caucuses 
 within the constitution he aspires to represent. From 
 his to all superior dignities, the rough hands of the peo- 
 ple are kept off; and fewer and softer hands are alone 
 allowed to touch these higher honors. The people of a 
 state may elect by direct vote the senators of their state 
 legislature, and even their governor. To this extent they 
 may go, for the interests and dignities involved are ac- 
 counted smaller. But to elect the governor and senators 
 of the nation by direct vote ! to allow its millions to put 
 these great officers of state, with their own ungloved 
 hands, in their high positions ! '' Procul^ procul este, 
 profani ! " says our republican constitution at the door 
 of the White House, or a Congress with as deep a sense 
 of propriety as any priest of pagan Rome ever said it to 
 the impious intruders at his temple door. 
 
 No ; both the nation's governor and senators must not 
 be allowed to come direct between the breath of public 
 opinion and their nobility. That opinion must breathe 
 
Political Questions. 285 
 
 upon these high offices gently through the artificial respi- 
 rator of indirect election. The hard, rough hands of the 
 people must not drop their stained and greasy ballots 
 straight into the lap of these grand dignities. Only two 
 or three hundred chosen men in three millions may vote 
 for a national senator. Only three hundred men in 
 thirty millions may approach the sacred urn of the presi- 
 dential election and vote for the governor of the Kepub- 
 lic. And these presidential electors may, and sometimes 
 do, put in his chair of state and power a candidate whom 
 more than half the population of the Union do not wish 
 to fill it. This is another part of the machinery for at- 
 tenuating American suffrage, and it is as effective to this 
 end as the decennial decimation by " the new apportion- 
 ment." Where did the venerated inventors and advo- 
 cates of this indirect election machinery find their model 
 or suggestion? Certainly not in England. 
 
 Well, let us go on to the other parts and workings of this 
 wheel-within-wheel system. By indirect election we have 
 a president put irremovably in power for four years, and 
 a Senate, half for four and the other half for six years, 
 all irremovable except by death or impeachment. It 
 matters not how the circumstances or how public opinion 
 may change in this space ; these powers that be cannot 
 be changed. The nation must wait patiently until their 
 lease of authority expires, and then try to supply their 
 place by the same machinery of indirect election. The 
 system pretends to drop a small bone of privilege to the 
 people within this space of time by allowing them to 
 change, by direct vote, their representatives in the Lower 
 House. But what does this amount to, if they cannot 
 
286 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 change the Senate, a body that stands athwart the door- 
 way of every act of legislation ? Put the force of Ameri- 
 can opinion and suffrage against the people-power of the 
 English nation at this point of comparison. There a 
 strong government, w^ith a Lord Derby and a Disraeli, 
 or a Kussell and a Gladstone, may be turned out of power 
 after a single vs^eek's holding by a vote in Parliament. 
 Public opinion acts with instantaneous force on the gov- 
 ernment, and no American four-years'-lease can delay 
 its fall. 
 
 Let us glance at one of the small cogs of this wheel- 
 system provided to regulate and temper the action of 
 public opinion in this country. True, it allows the 
 people by direct vote to renew the Lower House once 
 in two years, but it does not permit them to renew 
 the Senate, even by indirect vote, once in four years. 
 A number of six-year senators survive the presiden- 
 tial term, and " hold over," in order to temper the ac- 
 tion of too complete and radical a change in the peo- 
 ple's choice. They are held in reserve against such a 
 change, to form a constitutional " opposition " to the 
 incoming president and the party he represents. This 
 is truly only a small cog of the wheel, provided to act 
 like the brake on the railroad car, but it answers its 
 design to check the train of public opinion. 
 
 Well, we have the president, his cabinet, and the Sen- 
 ate which indirect election allow^s us. We have seen the 
 process by which they are put in their high places of 
 trust and power. Let us see how near to the people 
 these places stand. As among the highest powers of 
 state in other countries, there is often rivalry, hostility, 
 
Political ^lestions, 287 
 
 or open rupture, so the same conditions may exist be- 
 tween the same powers here. So far as the outside 
 world is concerned, the most important and dignified 
 prerogative of a government is the treaty-making power. 
 Well, our senatorial barons, tliough dividing this power 
 with the executive constitutionally, claim, and often 
 exercise, the lion's share of it. They may reject any 
 treaty which the executive makes with a foreign power 
 after the most protracted and patient negotiation. Even 
 if the nation suspects private or partisan pique at the 
 bottom of this rejection, there is no help for it ; it is done 
 in secret session. Here a transaction that involves the 
 interests, the honor, and dignity of a great nation is con- 
 summated, and the people are powerless to prevent it. 
 What can their own representatives in the Lower House 
 do in the matter? Just nothing, constitutionally. Their 
 hands bear too plainly the plebeian touch of the people 
 to be trusted with treaties, or the powers of peace and 
 war involved in treaty-making. 
 
 There is only one more wheel of this buffing system 
 that we will notice at this time, though a volume would 
 hardly suffice to describe them all. We now have the 
 great result of indirect election in the president in the 
 White House, and his cabinet ministers in brown and 
 gray houses close by it. Happy beings ! how removed 
 from contact with public opinion, even breathing through 
 its constitutional respirator ! They never come face to 
 face to it even in this secondary form and force. They 
 never face the Lower House or Upper House in person, 
 to answer any unpleasant questions as to their policy. 
 No ; that sort of thing may do for Gladstone, Bismarck, 
 
288 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 or Thiers. They may stand up before five hundred angry 
 or anxious faces, and be badgered till they are pale and 
 haggared with exhaustion about their measures ; but it is 
 not for American statesmen, wearing the white kid gloves 
 of indirect election, to be subjected to that sort of thing ; 
 to approach so near even to the indirect mouth-pieces of 
 public opinion. No ; if Congress wishes to ask such 
 questions, let it drop a line into the post-office, or send it 
 by messenger to the White House, or the state secre- 
 tary's house, or to some other great house in the West 
 End ; and if it is a respectful and proper note an answer 
 shall come back through the same medium. I wonder 
 if any who may read these remarks failed to notice this 
 peculiar feature of our constitutional system during the 
 recent anxiety and excitement of the public mind in re- 
 gard to the Washington Treaty and the consequential 
 claims. How powerless our House of Commons and the 
 whole nation seemed to be in the matter ! Even the post- 
 office, that carries on the diplomatic correspondence at 
 Washington between the Ministry and Congress, was 
 silent. Not even a note in answer to the most anxious 
 inquiry touching " the immediate jewel " of the nation's 
 honor was vouchsafed to the people by the secretary of 
 state. And all the while, almost every morning's tele- 
 gram from England brought us the questions which angry 
 men addressed to Lord Granville and Gladstone in the 
 British Parliament, and their brave answers in regard to 
 the same subject. 
 
 Here, then, are a few of the constitutional provisions 
 now in force to attenuate American suffrage and opinion, 
 or to bar their full and immediate action on our govern- 
 
Political ^lestions. 289 
 
 ment. I say constitutional, for the contrivances to per- 
 vert, divert, and dilute public opinion by tov^n caucuses, 
 state caucuses, and national caucuses, by rings, lobbies, 
 and '* previous questions," are legion in both number 
 and character, and I will not touch upon them here. 
 
 THE GREATEST AND LAST OF PERSONAL 
 EDITORS. 
 
 " A change of some importance took place, during last week, 
 on the staff of the *' Times." Mr. Mowbray Morris, who has for 
 many years been manager of that paper, has retired, and Mr. 
 Stephens has been appointed his successor. Tlie new manager 
 is taken from the parliamentary corps, and is, comparatively 
 speaking, quite a young man." 
 
 The foregoing announcement appeared in a London 
 journal a few days before Horace Greeley articulated his 
 last words on earth : " It is done ! " They went up in a 
 feeble whisper to the ears that bent to hear it from those 
 death-frosted lips. But the angel of the telegraph, whose 
 human wings are as fleet as Gabriel's, waiting reverently 
 for that whisper, bore it to the listening continents at the 
 quickest speed of thought. The listening continents 
 hf'.ard it, and felt all their multitudinous populations 
 stirred as by an event that somehow affected the world. 
 
 But Horace Greeley was only an editor. He never 
 w^on nor wielded official power. His country elevated 
 him to no position of influence. If it had so willed, it 
 19 
 
290 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 could not have added one cubit to his stature. It had 
 no gift sufficient even to crown or adorn its growth. 
 The pinnacle of his greatness was the height of his own 
 character. This grand structure was the spontaneous 
 evolution of its own innate vitalities ; and these, in an 
 honest heart, could not but grow, for they fed at the 
 life of Truth, which " has the eternal years of God." 
 They were principles that shaped the purpose of his 
 life, and, without consulting with flesh and blood, even 
 with his own, he followed them, without shadow of 
 turning, to the end of his days, and to the greater end 
 to which they led. And, for him, the two issues were 
 blended in one consummation. When he whispered his 
 last words, "It is done ! " they had a broader mean- 
 ing for the world than the mere ending of what could 
 die of his life on earth. They announced the greatest 
 fact in American history — that the principles he had 
 contended for, with a heroism of faith and courage that 
 no obloquy could daunt or dim, had become the living 
 forces of the nation's life and power. 
 
 When passing the eye over the salient characteristics 
 of Horace Greeley's life, we must recognize a new sig- 
 nificance to certain peculiarities of thought and ex- 
 pression which were once attributed to an amusing 
 eccentricity of mind. One of these habits was to 
 impersonate great principles, truths, and facts, or to 
 raise them up to living entities by giving each, as it 
 were, the sceptre of a capital letter. This habit was 
 no affectation, nor unconscious eccentricity. It came 
 from his deep reverence for these principles, which 
 were ever a kind of divine presence to him. Truth, 
 
Political ^cestions. 291 
 
 Right, Freedom, Humanity, and People, he always put 
 among the immortals ; and he would as soon have 
 Avritten Gabriel without an initial capital as one of 
 them. Then, from the outset to the end of his career, 
 from the first types he set up as a printer's apprentice, 
 to the last lines he wrote as the greatest editor of his 
 own or any other age, he adopted one unvarying 
 standard of valuation, by which he measured the worth 
 and raison d'etre of all governments, laws, institutions, 
 political parties, and popular sentiment. Man w^as the 
 unit by which he computed their valuations — man as an 
 abstract entity, with no government nor national stamp 
 on him, in his pure and simple intrinsic worth, as the 
 gold before it receives the guinea's stamp. This living 
 and immortal unit he weighed against all governments, 
 laws, and institutions, monarchical and republican, and 
 if they ignored or depreciated its worth, he wrote Mene^ 
 Mene^ Tehel^ Upharsin^ over against them on the wall, 
 with a hand and a distinctness which the whole nation 
 saw and felt. 
 
 Horace Greeley was not only the last, but the greatest, 
 of personal editors. Never before did a writer-iu-chief 
 put so much powerful and all-absorbing individuality into 
 a great journal. All who noticed the little army of 
 associate and assistant writers who followed him to the 
 grave, must have realized as they never did before the 
 assimilating power of his master mind, that could make 
 the Tribune his own breathing, speaking life, the very 
 express image and embodiment of his own individuality. 
 The best and brightest of these associate editors made no 
 separate lustre ; it was only a ray of the central light that 
 
292 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 seemed to illuminate every page. The very journal itself 
 was apparently affected by this assimilating force, even to 
 its type, ink, and paper. Every successive number carried 
 to its readers the speaking portrait of Horace Greeley. 
 The large, Germanic title-type at the head of the first 
 page was as much a part of his personal dress to thou- 
 sands on the Ohio and Mississippi as any great-coat he 
 ever wore was to those who knew him in New York. 
 
 Who can measure the orbit of Horace Greeley's life, 
 influence, name, and reputation? To say these were 
 known to every man, woman, and child on this conti- 
 nent who can read the shortest words of our English 
 tongue, would be to limit the area of his fame. Mil- 
 lions of southern slaves, whom it was a penal offence to 
 teach a written syllable, heard his name while bending 
 to their bondage, and it sounded to their listening ears 
 like the distant footstep of some Greatheart that God 
 was sending to their release. On what other continent 
 or island, peopled by men who read in any language put 
 in newspaper type, is his name unhonored or unknown? 
 How few of the eighty millions who speak our own on 
 the globe have not already seen those short words on 
 their pathetic tour around the earth, ''It is done"? 
 What enlightened nation did not know the wide meaning 
 of those words, as well as his own, when it bent its head 
 and wept at his bier? 
 
 I put at the beginning of these reflections, without 
 note or comment, a paragraph from an English journal, 
 announcing .the end of another editorial career. I was 
 confident that the full scope and motive of the antithesis 
 would be recognized without any suggestion. Here the 
 
Political Questions. 293 
 
 managing editor of the foremost journal of all this world 
 closes his career. The mighty man who wielded the 
 thunderbolts of Olympus descends from Jove's seat to an 
 unnoticed life, and does not rustle a leaf by his fall. 
 For twenty years or more he had directed the voice of 
 the great Thunderer. For all this eventful period he 
 had marshalled the most vigorous intellectual forces that 
 the education of an empire could supply. At their head, 
 as a compact unit, moving at the impulse of his will, he 
 mounted to the throne of public opinion, and launched its 
 utterance out upon the world. The " We " of the Thun- 
 derer was a power behind, before, and above Victoria's 
 throne. It issued and echoed over all the great questions 
 that moved the nation and the world — over Eastern and 
 Western Questions, the Crimean War, the Indian Mutiny, 
 Continental Struggles, Keform Bills, Disestablishment of 
 the Irish Church, National Education, the Washington 
 Treaty, and all Domestic and Foreign Policies. It was 
 a power abroad as well as at home ; and many a foreign 
 cabinet felt its force. Never was there such editorial 
 power concentrated in one utterance. But you might 
 as well essay to " fall a drop of water into the breaking 
 gulf, and take that drop unmingled thence," as to detach 
 any personal individuality from this great organization 
 of intellectual force. Its constituent atoms made but one 
 body, and it had but one breath and voice. Mowbray 
 Morris's deposition from its head made no more change in 
 its unity, and no more sensation without or within, than 
 the deposition of a single atom from the human body ia 
 its seven-year renovation. He had been as invisible and 
 intangible to the great public as the Grand Lama ever 
 
294 Ten-Mimite Talks, 
 
 was to his subjects. Had not Eichard Cobden, incensed 
 at his anonymous attacks, penetrated the mystery of his 
 personality and disclosed his name, the readers of the 
 London Times would not have known who was its editor- 
 in-chief. For him it may be said, " It is done." But 
 what, in his case, is done? What is the individuality 
 he brings away from his great position? Why, it is 
 doubtful if there are twenty men in England who ever 
 recognized a line he wrote, or any peculiarity of sen- 
 timent, view, character, or expression that distinguished 
 him from the rank and file of anonymous writers. Not 
 all he did, or was known to do, or be, in Jove's seat, 
 would probably commend him as a successful candidate 
 to the smallest municipal office in a country town. After 
 twenty years* reign on this Olympian height of editorial 
 power, what a pygmy he is when measured against the 
 great and immortal individuality of Horace Greeley ! 
 Measured by the sublime standard of truth and right, 
 the moral disparity was equally great between the two 
 journals they edited. With all the unparalleled intellect- 
 iTal and pecuniary power the London Times could com- 
 mand, it never pretended nor aimed to be anything better 
 or more than the current times^ or the opinion, sentiment, 
 and voice of the majority. It did not seek to create or 
 rectify public opinion, but to represent it. The majority, 
 right or wrong, was its watchword, and it never diverged 
 from the line of this small and shifty policy. 
 
 Now, let us see what an unknown and anonymous 
 atom of individuality is to succeed Mowbray Morris on 
 the throne of the London Times. His accession to this 
 high place is not deemed worthy of an independent 
 
Political Questions, 295 
 
 paragraph, like the postscript to the foregoing announce- 
 ment. See how it reads, like " the chrcnicle of small 
 beer : " '' And Mr. Stephens has been appointed his suc- 
 cessor. The new manager is taken from the parlia- 
 mentary corps, and is, comparatively speaking, quite a 
 young man." This young man appears to have been the 
 foreman of the parliamentary reporters. Undoubtedly 
 they all know him. But, outside of their circle, it is 
 doubtful if fiftv men in Eno^land ever heard his name 
 before, or will ever hear it again. They do not know, 
 and never will know, whether or not he ever wrote any- 
 thing else than the copy of a speech in the House of 
 Commons. They will never be able to recognize a 
 thought of his in the London Times. His individuality, 
 if he ever had any perceptible, will melt away and 
 disappear in that amalgam of intellectual being and force 
 which constitutes the life and power of the great journal. 
 We never more shall see his name in print until he dies, 
 or descends from his high place. Momentous questions 
 touching the integrity of the British empire, the recon- 
 struction of its government, colonial independence, dis- 
 solution of church and state, and questions affecting 
 other nations intensely, will come up in his editorial 
 reign; but he, and all the intellectual forces marshalled 
 under his sceptre, will be as anonymous, invisible, and 
 " impalpable as the viewless winds." 
 
 Thus measured against the foremost journalists of 
 Europe, every thoughtful mind must see and feel that 
 Horace Greeley was the greatest personal editor that 
 ever lived ; that no one ever developed in his own 
 character and influence such an intense and powerful 
 
296 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 individuality. And this is only half the admission that 
 we must make. He was not only the greatest, but last 
 of personal editors on either side of the Atlantic. 
 Indeed, they were almost exclusively an American 
 production in the formative years of our Republic. And 
 here their succession ends forever, with the — "It is 
 done ! " of the most illustrious of them all. From him 
 we may go back on the line to Raymond, Bennett, 
 Prentice, Isaac Hill, Father Ritchie, and Duff Green. 
 But the future is blank, and barren of all promise of 
 editorial personality. Our great journalists have become 
 corporations of anonymous intellect, owned by anony- 
 mous stockholders, and managed by Mowbray Morrises, 
 or '' quite young men, comparatively speaking," like 
 young Mr. Stephens. So, in this new tomb, and in the 
 coffin of Horace Greeley, lies buried the last year of 
 Personal Editorship. 
 
 But was Horace Greeley a statesman ? Had he the 
 grasp of a trained intellect to comprehend and realize 
 the written letter and the broader spirit of the American 
 system of government? Did he, by that inspired intui- 
 tion of a great heart which erudite statesmen often lack, 
 understand the life and soulof the American Constitution, 
 the concentric series of its relations to man as an individ- 
 ual, to men as a state, to states as a nation ? His country, 
 while he lived, doubted this perception and ability. It 
 hesitated, and refused to make him an official statesman. 
 But there is one ability and fact which it must concede 
 to him, now that he is gone. He made the best states- 
 men that are to guide his country hereafter. Whoever 
 of them drifts out of the current of his character will 
 
Political ^cestions, 297 
 
 find himself stranded on the slimy shore of oblivion. 
 The principles he bore to the front, and which, may be, 
 bore him to the grave, will forevermore live and act as 
 the shaping forces of the nation's life and destiny. 
 
 Disraeli said of Cobden, the day after his death, that 
 he would thenceforward be an ever-present member of 
 the House of Commons, where his wise counsels would 
 be heard and honored over all the strife of party debates. 
 It may be said with equal truth that Horace Greeley v/ill 
 forever sit in the presidential chair at Washington, with 
 his hand on the helm of the state. Already it begins to 
 respond to the magnetic force of the principles he endowed 
 with such powerful vitality. Was he a statesman ? If 
 any young man who listens to this question, and would 
 like to know what it means, will read Horace Greeley's 
 short speeches during the last months of his life, he will 
 feel himself listening to the father of all true American 
 statesmen to be. In these '' apples of gold in pictures 
 of silver ; " in logic as clear and strong as Cobbett's and 
 Cobden's combined ; in diction as chaste and beautiful as 
 that of Burke's best perorations, he may see the living 
 mind, soul, and spirit of the American Constitution un- 
 folded with a breadth of view, and fullness and refine- 
 ment of perception, which it would be the best training 
 of an American statesman to study and to attain. 
 
298 Ten-Minute Talks* 
 
 WOMAN SUFFRAGE AND ITS LIABILITIES. 
 
 The Woman's Rights Question, as it is called, has 
 passed beyond the stage of the ridiculous as a theory. 
 We may laugh at it and pooh-pooh it with the best satire 
 and wit that can be put in words or in caricatures ; but 
 it cannot be put down or put back by such arguments. 
 The foothold it has got in England as a political question, 
 and the progress it has made in Parliament, and in other 
 departments of public life, tend to give it an impetus here 
 that cannot be laughed down or weakened by ridicule. 
 So, with all the jeers and gibes of pen and pencil against 
 it, this very question is assuming every year new and 
 vigorous force in both countries. In England it has 
 reached a more serious stage than in America. In the 
 first place, it has John Stuart Mill, Jacob Bright, and 
 many other eminent men, both in and out of Parliament, 
 who are advocating it with all the force of their deep and 
 honest convictions, as well as with their great ability and 
 influence. Then it is free there from those associations 
 and prejudices that attach to it here. It is not affected 
 there by the aspect or odor of free-and-easy virtue, or 
 free love, or Bloomerism, or strong-minded womanism, 
 as it is in this country. The men and women w^ho ad- 
 vocate it there are not suspected of these isms^ and, 
 therefore, do not have to meet the same prejudice and 
 ridicule as in America. Then women are actually getting 
 
Political Questions, 299 
 
 on the register as voters in some of the municipal 
 elections. They are not only beginning to vote, but to be 
 voted into very important offices. The mayor, aldermen, 
 and councilmen of London do not have a much more re- 
 sponsible and important field of labor and duty devolving 
 upon them than the new school-board of that city. This 
 board is a governing power, clothed with an authority 
 almost sufficient to rule an American state or a German 
 principality. Well, on this great central school-board 
 there are several women of high position and cultivation. 
 "Women are among the members of other boards through- 
 out the kingdom. The great universities of Oxford, 
 Cambridge, and London are virtually opened to them. 
 Classes of ladies are instructed by the most eminent pro- 
 fessors in those institutions. 
 
 Thus there is a steady advance in England of all that 
 is embraced in the Woman's Rights Question, both in and 
 out of Parliament. Although public opinion moves 
 slower, it moves surer, than with us. When a movement 
 that has the force of truth and right in it has once been 
 set agoing, however small its beginning, it progresses 
 slowly but certainly to its realization. When the public 
 mind has watched it a while, and seen it reach a certain 
 stage of progress, the belief soon becomes general that 
 it must and will succeed in the end. This is illustrated 
 in other public questions that have been carried. No 
 sooner was the disestablishment of the Irish Church 
 accomplished, in face of a powerful opposition, than the 
 belief began to prevail that the disestablishment of the 
 English Church would follow, although more than half 
 
300 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 tile population of England belonged to that church, and 
 were strongly attached to it. The nation began to expect 
 the question would be brought into Parliament even be- 
 fore any one proposed to do it, and it was ; and it received 
 nearly one hundred votes at the first trial. The whole 
 country knows how these votes will grow from year to 
 year, until they carry the question. Just so with Woman 
 Suffrage. It has made a still more favorable beginning 
 in Parliament, and will be as sure of the same victory. 
 Even the most caustic, severe, and satirical paper in 
 England, the Saturday Review, gives it up virtually, and 
 assumes the question will be carried. At the end of a 
 long article denouncing the movement, it says, — 
 
 *' However, what will be will be. If it is so ordained that this 
 uncomfortable phase of active feminine ambition has to be worked 
 through, nothing that we or any one else can say will prevent it. 
 But, at least, we may give one note of warning by the way, and 
 do what we can to mitigate the absurdities resulting. In partic- 
 ular, we would urge the incompatibility of the old sacredness 
 with the new self-assertion, and the unwisdom of wincing at 
 satire voluntarily courted. To run with the hare and hunt with 
 the hounds has been a feat as yet found impossible with the best 
 will in the world. If women are able to unite the coarse life of 
 men with the sacredness of womanhood, they will have solved 
 the problem in their own favor. But, until the new phenom- 
 enon is made manifest, we must take the liberty of questioning 
 its possibility, and of maintaining that, if the sacred sex wishes 
 to remain the sacred sex still, it must not offer itself as a mark 
 for public discussion on a more than questionable line of action. 
 If it wishes to keep its head whole, it must not thrust it where 
 blows are falling ; and, if it likes clean fingers, it must not touch 
 pitch." 
 
Political Questions. 301 
 
 These are the words of an English weekly paper dis- 
 tinguished for its intellectual force as well as its keen 
 and cynical satire. They virtually concede that woman 
 suffrage is to triumph in England, in spite of all ridicule 
 and other opposition. And I think we must all agree 
 that it cannot triumph there without being victorious here 
 soon afterwards. Now, this fact brings it home to us in 
 its most serious aspect. We must face it in this light, as 
 a question that will have a new power here from its 
 success in England. Indeed, I do not see what opposi- 
 tion is to prevent its triumph here, unless the great 
 majority of the women of this country oppose it them- 
 selves. The same note of warning addressed by the 
 Saturday Review to the women of England may be 
 addressed more properly to the women of America for 
 several reasons. One of these reasons ought to have 
 great weight with them. It is admitted by travellers and 
 writers o-f different countries who visit us, that nowhere 
 else in the world are women treated with so much delicate 
 homage and tender consideration as in America. In 
 this respect there is no other country where their sex is 
 held so sacred as in this, and it is the unanimous opinion, 
 both at home and abroad, that in no other country do 
 women expect so much homage and deference as with us. 
 In no other country do women of the same rank assume 
 to be so delicate, and exact so much deference from men, 
 as in America. Setting aside the comparatively small 
 number of strong-minded women, spiritualists, free 
 lovers, and other visionary extremists, the great body of 
 American women are more feminine in their deportment 
 
302 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 and sensibilities than English women of the same classes. 
 And this, doubtless, is the very reason why they are 
 treated with more delicate consideration, and why they 
 even claim such consideration as a right, and not as a 
 gracious homage on the part of men. 
 
 Now, this delicate and tender consideration that Ameri- 
 can women receive and claim above any other women in 
 the world is the most precious, costly, and valuable right, 
 and the most honorable dignity, that women ever did or 
 ever can attain in any age or country. It is a right in- 
 cluding all others, social or moral, that society can 
 recognize. It is a right that embraces all the influences 
 woman can exert upon any question of the day. It is a 
 right in which she can exercise on the legislation of the 
 country, and upon public life and morality, all the in- 
 telligence and all the graces and virtues of her own 
 character. 
 
 Now, to use the rough figure so common in. England, 
 if woman cannot run with the hare and hunt with the 
 hounds in that country, it is more unwise and dangerous 
 still for her to attempt such a race here. It is impossible 
 for her to keep at its full value the right she now has, 
 and at the same time get and use the right that woman 
 suffrage would give her. She cannot serve God and 
 Mammon at the same moment. She cannot be a man 
 and woman too at the ballot-box or in the political arena. 
 She cannot wrap all the American sacredness of her sex 
 about her, and go down to these places of rough con- 
 course, and expect that no mote of their black dust will 
 soil her robe or touch her woman's sensibilities. For 
 
Political ,^estions. 303 
 
 there will inevitably be more of such soot and dust afloat 
 here than in England. We all know, and the outside 
 world knows, what political w^arfare means in America ; 
 what are the sharp missiles and defiling mud hurled to 
 and fro in the conflict. Even thousands of our best 
 educated men, of fefined and honorable sensibilities, 
 shrink from a contest where all that is sacred in private 
 character and conscientious motive is trampled in the 
 mire or blotched with its defilement. How can American 
 w^omen wish to rush in where such men dare not tread ? 
 It is true enough that they have not only received, but 
 claimed, an homage wdiich the women of England never 
 expected. They are proud, or have reason above all 
 other women in the world to be proud, of that homage 
 — to prize and treasure it as the immediate jewel of 
 their souls ; as more than a jewel, more than any orna- 
 ment or honor ; as the richest source of their domestic 
 and social happiness. This homage has never failed 
 them in any of the common walks of life that nature has 
 made for woman's foot. But the moment she descends 
 into the arena of political warfare, that homage will not 
 shield her from the missiles and mire of the conflict. Her 
 presence there will not exclude nor blunt a single w^eapoa 
 know^n to our great party contests. On the contrary, a 
 new set of missiles from the arsenal of satire will be 
 brought in to hit and wound her sensibilities. There can 
 be no discharge from this kind of war, if she voluntarily 
 enters into it. She must encounter all its weapons and 
 all its turmoil and rough exposure. If she will insist 
 upon entering such a field of strife, we cannot prevent 
 
304 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 her. The women of America must decide this question 
 for themselves. The men of America cannot with- 
 hold the right of suffrage from them, if they insist upon 
 it. But it is for themselves to decide whether they 
 will exchange the koh-i-noor they now possess for the 
 brassy, lackered bauble contained in the ballot-box. 
 
NATIONAL AND INTERNATIONAL 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 20 305 
 
RUSSIA FEOM A COSMOPOLITAN STAND- 
 POINT. 
 
 If any nation in the world is enabled and bound by its 
 position to view the great questions that agitate Europe 
 from a cosmopolitan stand-point, it is America. The 
 force and value of our opinion on such questions depend 
 upon this point of view. The moment we descend into 
 the low arena of local interests and prejudices, we lay 
 oif the dignity of the umpire for the badge and bludgeon 
 of the partisan. As the position of Russia is henceforth 
 to become an exciting question to the Old World, we owe 
 it to her, to ourselves, and to universal civilization, to form 
 and utter our opinion from a higher level of considera- 
 tion than the one assumed by the partisan powers of 
 Europe. To ascend to this point of reflection will cost 
 our national mind an effort in which it has never yet suc- 
 ceeded. The power of English opinion is so great upon 
 us, say what we will, — so much of our knowledge and 
 conception of European matters comes to us through the 
 English press and literature, — that, in spite of our boasted 
 independence of thought and action, our first views of 
 European nations and questions become, almost mechani- 
 cally, English. In watching this tendency of American 
 opinion, one may see it in all our leading journals of both 
 political parties. A few days ago a leader appeared in 
 one of the most influential of them, not only urging the 
 
 307 
 
3o8 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 ability, but apparently the duty, of England to ally to 
 herself, or subsidize, Holland, Denmark, and Sweden, 
 and raise an army of four hundred 'thousand men to op- 
 pose Russia's growth and march ; or rather to prevent 
 her from becoming, two or three centuries hence, as near 
 a neighbor to England in India as she is now to France 
 or America itself. Nothing could be more completely 
 English than the whole argument of that article. It was 
 perfectly English in its view of Russia, past, present, and 
 to come. It was as full of the old balance-of-power 
 animus and theory as any tory argument you could find 
 in the Edinburgh Review. . 
 
 Now, the very worst thing we can do to the English 
 people by our opinion, is to adopt and express theirs on 
 these great questions ; to justify and increase their panics 
 and prejudices in regard to the character, and intent, or 
 even ability, of their neighbor nations. And if w^e really 
 have an honest and loyal wish for her well-being in the 
 world, the best we can do to promote it is to erect a fair, 
 impartial opinion of our own, which shall serve to check 
 her drift into these periodical fantasies of suspicion and 
 alarm. Our opinion should be a harbor buoy, fast 
 anchored in a firm holding, not a sham lightship, drifting 
 w^ith the same current that bears her towards a lee shore 
 of disaster. The best that America can do for her, or 
 any other European nation, is to establish such a moor- 
 age for her, and any other power driving out rudderless 
 to the wild sea of war. But America must re-read, if 
 she cannot stop to re-write, for herself the history and 
 character of other peoples and governments, before she 
 can anchor such a moorage of fair and independent opin- 
 
National and International Questions. 309 
 
 ion. She owes it to them to write their histories for 
 herself, and from her own stand-point. This she will do 
 some time or other ; but, without waiting for that, she 
 may read their histories as they have been written in the 
 salient acts of their life and being. 
 
 Of all European histories the American mind has 
 studied, not one of them, probably, has been read so com- 
 pletely through English spectacles as that of Russia. I 
 think it is safe to say, that American opinion as to a for- 
 eign nation has never been so completely English as in 
 regard to that power and people. And this identity of 
 view and sentiment is as hurtful to England as it is 
 unfair in us. I am conscious that this opinion is so com- 
 mon to both countries, and so strong in each, that an 
 American may be charged with political heresy if he ven- 
 tures to view Russia from a fair, cosmopolitan stand- 
 point. In attempting this, 1 do not wish to differ without 
 motive from the authorities which the American public 
 has so long accepted. 
 
 It is impossible to condense within a few pages the 
 structure of an argument which requires for its devel- 
 opment the space of a large volume. In such contracted 
 limits the statement of facts must be bald, and the rea- 
 soning brief. Out of this necessity, then, I think, no 
 fair and impartial mind, that has well studied the subject, 
 will demur to the statement, that no nation in the world 
 ever did or suffered more for civilization in the same 
 space of time, and with the same means, than Russia 
 has done. In the way of suffering, certainly no intel- 
 ligent reader of history will doubt the truth of that part 
 of the statement. For several centuries she served as a 
 
3IO Ten-AIinute Talks, 
 
 breakwater against the barbarous and blasting hordes of 
 Tartary, which else would have flooded the whole of 
 Europe with their tyranny. But though she broke the 
 flood that would have beat upon Germany, France, and 
 perhaps England, she could not save herself from the 
 ruinous inundation. Though it engulfed her for centu- 
 ries, she absorbed it so that it did not spread farther west. 
 In this long period of suifering for civilization — longer 
 than the Egyptian bondage, and harder to bear — the 
 nations of Central and Western Europe had time and 
 means to grow to the status and stature of independent 
 governments and peoples. But their fairest historians 
 have never recognized how much of their safety and 
 growth in these centuries they owed to Russia, who 
 braved and bore the worst dangers of them all. 
 
 But Russia has done even far more than she has suf- 
 fered for the civilization of the world ; and done more in 
 the same time and with the same means, than any other 
 nation, to that end. It is remarkable how rarely we 
 find an English or American writer w^ho measures her 
 against other countries by these standards ; who seems 
 even to recognize how little working capital she had to 
 begin with, and what she has accomplished with it. In- 
 deed, she had to import into her realm the very seeds of 
 civilization she possessed ; or the few Scandinavian, Ger- 
 man, Italian, Greek, and other foreign elements that she 
 introduced. If all the enlightenment they produced were 
 put in one lustre, it is doubtful if it would have made 
 as much light as the single town of Salem could emit 
 when St. Petersburg was founded. In this world's his- 
 tory did ever a sovereign feel and deplore so deeply the 
 
National and International ^iestio7is. 311 
 
 want of this working capital of civilization as did Peter 
 the Great? How he apprenticed himself and his young 
 nobles to common trades in foreign countries, how he , 
 scoured those countries for teachers of every useful art 
 and branch of instruction, is partially recorded in our 
 school-books. From his time to this, no nation has been 
 more teachable, or learned more from foreign instructors, 
 and from the experience and example of other countries, 
 than Kussia. Then look at the heterogeneous populations 
 out of which she had to construct her empire. Begin at 
 the Arctic Sea and gauge them through to the Euxine, 
 and from the Baltic through Siberia to Behring's Straits. 
 Apply a moral standard to their races, religions, aud 
 habits, not as they are now, but as they were when she 
 took them under her sceptre. Was there any other power 
 in the wide world that could reach them with more of the 
 elements or influences of civilization? On the whole, is 
 not the world indebted greatly to her for what she has 
 done for these barbarous populations ? Consider how 
 comparatively brief is the space of time that she has had 
 them under her sway, and how in this period their old 
 pagan idolatries and superstitions have been displaced for 
 at least the nominal faith and worship of the Christian 
 religion. 
 
 And now comes that great act and proof of advancing 
 civilization that emancipated her millions of serfs, and 
 which makes them the freemen of the empire, to consti- 
 tute that middle class to be what the emancipated serfs or 
 villains of other countries have been to them. Did any 
 nation ever surpass Russia in this single act of civiliza- 
 tion ? It is impossible for her to stop at this step. She 
 
312 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 must take others in the same direction. She is taking 
 them rapidly and successively in every department of 
 enlightenment and progress — in literature, in popular 
 education, railways, and all kinds of internal improve- 
 ments. The Russia of Peter the Great is as dead as the 
 England of the last Henry. The Russia of the next 
 generation will not be the Russia of to-day, but a nation, 
 if not nbreast, at least not far behind, the civilization of 
 older and more favored countries. This is a fact in the 
 future almost as certain as any in arithmetical or geomet- 
 rical progression. And in all these anxieties and prep- 
 arations for incoming events, this fact must be recognized 
 and appreciated by those v^^ho consider them from a cos- 
 mopolitan stand-point. 
 
 THE COMMERCIAL RELATIONS AND CA- 
 PACITIES OF RUSSIA. 
 
 The geographical position and producing power of 
 Russia qualify her for a great part to act for the benefit 
 of the whole Eastern hemisphere. What Egypt was to 
 Canaan and other countries in time of dearth, Russia is to 
 Western and Southern Europe in seasons of short crops. 
 Her granaries pour forth a steady abundance that coun- 
 tries under famine cannot exhaust. What her stores 
 of grain are worth to them in such a time of need, no 
 nation knows better by repeated experience than Eng- 
 land. What could she have done for Ireland, even with 
 America to draw from, if she could not have had Odessa 
 
National and International ^lestions. 313 
 
 and other grain ports of the Black Sea to go to? Now 
 that railways and other facilities of transportation are 
 progressing so rapidly, they will become more and more 
 the granaries of Europe, which will supply its teeming 
 populations with cheaper bread than they can grow at 
 home. Every year Russia's producing power will become 
 a more vital necessity to England and other countries of 
 Western Europe. This she and they are coming to recog- 
 nize more and more distinctly. Their vital or material 
 interests, more truthful and reliable than their political 
 instincts, have and feel an immense stake in all the rail- 
 ways and internal improvements in Russia that tend to 
 increase this producing power, and to make it more ac- 
 cessible and available to the in. In a word, they want to 
 bring Russia nearer to them ; and with one hand they are 
 lending her money and helping her to this end, while 
 with the other, or political hand, they are trying to push 
 her up against the icebergs of the Frozen Ocean. 
 
 But grain is only one of the productions w^iich Russia 
 supplies to Western Europe. Her iron, flax, hemp, tar, 
 and turpentine are increasing and indispensable necessi- 
 ties to them. In the Crimean war the Irish linen manu- 
 factories would have stopped, and Ireland would have 
 suffered a flax famine as severe as was the cotton famine 
 to England, if it had not been for a supply of the raw 
 material imported at the enhancement of fifty per cent, 
 through Prussia. Every ship in the British navy that 
 thundered in the Black Sea or Baltic showed its sails 
 and cordage of Russian hemp, and every rope hardened 
 with Russian tar. In spite of all orders in council or 
 proclamations to the contrary, England imported during 
 
314 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 the war nearly as much from Kussia as in time of 
 peace,, and paid nearly twice as much for it. Indeed, she 
 could not carry on the war without commercial help from 
 her enemy. 
 
 But with all these vital or food-relations to the rest 
 of Europe, with all that Russia is commercially now, 
 and is to be, to the civilized world, it is distinguished 
 over all other large regions of the globe by one re- 
 markable physical characteristic. It is virtually a riv- 
 erless empire. It is full of rivers great and small, 
 but either they run to no ports of her own, or they are 
 worthless for commerce. Those that flow into the North- 
 ern Sea are frozen up half the year, and cannot be 
 counted. The narrow straits that connect Lakes Ladoga 
 and Onega can hardly be called rivers. The only one 
 really that Russia may call her own in Europe is the 
 Dwina, with the port of Riga at its mouth ;.and that is 
 inaccessible and unavailable during the winter months. 
 I would earnestly commend to the reader a few min- 
 utes' study of the map of that vast and important em- 
 pire. Aside from the subject under notice, he must 
 be struck with a peculiarity unparalleled in any region 
 of the globe of equal extent. He will see that " riv- 
 ers to the ocean run," is not true of Russian rivers, or 
 seas either. Count the rivers that run into the Black 
 Sea. They are many and large, but none of them really 
 debouch in Russian territory. To appreciate this singu- 
 lar circumstance we must apply to it an easy standard 
 of measurement. Imagine, then, a great bayou in the 
 Mississippi, just below Vicksburg, of the dimensions of 
 the Black Sea. Imagine all the rivers in the United 
 
National and International ^testions, 315 
 
 States, from Maine to Texas, to run into this salt water 
 bajou, and that all the commerce that floats on those riv- 
 ers has to pass through that short length of the river that 
 connects the inland sea with the Gulf of Mexico. Then 
 realize, if you can, that this short and narrow strait is 
 called the Bosphorus, and that New Orleans is Constan- 
 tinople, and that all the commerce of the United States 
 east of the Rocky Mountains, that finds its way to the 
 Atlantic, has to pass between the forts of a foreign nation, 
 of a race, language, and religion as alien to us as any 
 pagan people can be. Then in the north we have the 
 St. Lawrence, and we can get out to the ocean that way, 
 except in the winter, when Quebec becomes a Riga to us. 
 It must be very difficult for an American mind to imagine 
 our great country subjected to such conditions, not by 
 nature, but by dynastic arrangements that are in open 
 and incessant war with nature. But this illustrates the 
 commercial position of Russia almost to the smallest 
 detail of its character. Just consider this fact for a mo- 
 ment. With all the extent of her empire, and with all 
 its productive power, she has not a single port of her own 
 in Europe that is open all the year round. 
 
 While the map is in your hands, just glance at the 
 Russian territory in Asia, and see how its rivers and seas 
 are isolated worse still from the world's oceans. See 
 what long rivers run northward into the Arctic Ocean, or 
 the Obi, Yenisei, Lena, and others. But what is their 
 commercial worth to the world? Look the other way, 
 and see the length and course of the famous Volga and 
 Ural. These fall into the Caspian, a warmer sea ; but 
 they might as well run into our Lake of the Woods, so 
 
3i6 Ten-Mintite Talks. 
 
 far as ocean connection and commerce are concerned. 
 Five minutes' study of the physical geography of the Rus- 
 sian empire will impress any fair and intelligent mind 
 with an approximate sense of the bars and embargoes 
 which nature has imposed upon its commerce with the 
 rest of the world. This sense will prepare one to ap- 
 preciate the bars and embargoes which a coalition of 
 suspicious and jealous powers is endeavoring to add to 
 those nature has imposed, or to aggravate and perpetuate 
 them. 
 
 If England, France, or Prussia had been in Russia's 
 place, either of those powers, a hundred years ago, would 
 have possessed itself of the right of way to the Mediter- 
 ranean, as we did to the Gulf of Mexico, and by more 
 forcible means. Would England have tolerated such a 
 condition a single year? Would she have suffered a 
 Turkish Constantinople at the mouth of the Thames, and 
 her ships to pass to and from the sea between the forts of 
 a Mohammedan power ? But this is the very condition for 
 which she has poured out so much precious blood and 
 treasure to fasten forever upon Russia. This is the prime 
 object aimed at in all these leagues, coalitions, and con- 
 ferences against that country. And these allies, when 
 they wrestled her to the earth, and put their feet on her 
 neck for her suspected attempt to break this condition, 
 charge her with treachery for attempting or proposing 
 again to throw it off after they had fettered it upon her 
 anew as she lay exhausted on the ground. And, mira- 
 hile dictii^ Anglicized American opinion sides mechanically 
 with theirs, and approves their coercion. 
 
 What does '' neutralizing " the Black Sea mean, as 
 
National and International ^lestions. 317 
 
 stipulated in the Paris Conference, after Eussia had been 
 overpowered by the four allied powers that rushed upon 
 her in behalf of civilization ? It means, in plain and 
 honest English, a perpetual blockade of the Russian 
 navy in her frozen ports in the North Baltic. It means 
 that none of her war-ships shall ever get into the Medi- 
 terranean or the Atlantic except by the roundabout way 
 of the Cattegat and Skagerack. It means that they shall 
 never be allowed to enter the Mediterranean except under 
 the British guns at Gibraltar. And does any other nation 
 load more ships for the world in that sea than Kussia? 
 And what is the reciprocation, or the equivalent, coc- 
 ceded by the allied powers for this blockade ? This — that 
 they will not send their ships of v/ar into the Black Sea 
 in time of peace ! That is all. They might as well 
 promise that they Avould not send them into Lake 
 Ontario. The Black ^Sea is not on the road to any other 
 country than Russia, any more than Lake Ontario is to 
 any other country than ours. If they go there at all in 
 peace, it is to menace or admonish Russia ; if in war, it 
 is to attack her. 
 
 This, then, is but a glance at the physical position and 
 the commercial capacities and relations of Russia. It is 
 a mere peep over that structure of fanatical suspicion and 
 jealousy by which Western Europe is trying to bar her 
 way to the seas they claim and use without restriction ; 
 to compress her growth ; to weaken and thwart her civ- 
 ilizing power ; to shut her away from any new points of 
 contact with the more enlightened world. Now, it is in 
 regard to the animus and aim of this policy that America 
 is in duty bound to form and express a fair, dispassionate, 
 
3i8 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 independent opinion of her own. I would fain hope that 
 the preceding and succeeding facts and reflections may 
 induce at least a few intelligent and thoughtful minds to 
 review^, and perhaps correct, the impression they have 
 hitherto entertained in regard to the " Eastern Question.'* 
 
 RUSSIA AS A POLITICAL NEIGHBOR AND 
 POWER. 
 
 We have considered some of the aspects acd charac- 
 teristics of Russia as a civiiiziug, producing, and com- 
 mercial powder. These have been presented from a 
 cosmopolitan stand-point, or that point of view which, 
 we may hope, the American mind may be yet trained to 
 adopt when forming an opinion on these European ques- 
 tions that are agitating the Old World. An American 
 opinion, unanimous, clear, and vigorous, uttered from 
 such a high level of reflection, is the only leverage of our 
 moral power on the issue of these questions. And Eng- 
 land is now, and must ever be, our 'point cfajp^ui for this 
 leverage. If we move the European world for its good 
 by our opinion, it must be by its force on the public and 
 governing mind of England. Until the tongue she and 
 we speak shall become the universal language of Europe, 
 she is the only nation, as it were, that leans on our 
 bosom, puts her ear to our lips, and her fingers to the 
 pulse of our sentiment. If it can be made to beat, and 
 breathe, and speak as it should, it will do more than any 
 
National and International .Questions. 319 
 
 other moral influence in the world to break the spell of 
 those periodical fanaticisms of suspicion and alarm which 
 have so often phmged her, and other nations with her, 
 into aimless and calamitous wars, and which are now 
 again threatening her and them with heavier disasters to 
 civilization. No other living American can have greater 
 cause or desire than myself to contribute what little 
 influence he can to the formation of an American opinion 
 that shall work this immeasurable good to her, and 
 through her to the rest of the world. If any intelligent 
 Englishman, in his own or in this country, shall happen 
 to notice these reflections, I believe he will recognize in 
 them a fair and generous spirit towards England, and an 
 earnest and loyal desire to promote her well-being, 
 even in the strongest phrases and statements of the 
 argument. 
 
 There is no other power in the world that is now and 
 ever will be such a close, conterminous neighbor to so 
 many nations as Russia. Indeed, until w^e bought her 
 estate in America, her empire extended through three 
 continents, and abutted upon countries of almost every 
 race, and language, and government on the globe. For 
 a hundred years or more she has been almost a universal 
 neighbor, or one to European, Asiatic, and American 
 nations. And now I would ask any thoughtful, reading 
 American or Englishman to bring his political theodolite 
 and level, and take the altitude, or the right ascension or 
 declination, of any people bordering upon Russia, and see 
 if they have been lowered one iota by their proximity to 
 her. Take Sweden, for example. She may be called 
 Russia's nearest neighbor, or nearest to her right arm of 
 
320 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 power. Has that small nation suffered in its interests or 
 institutions by this neighborhood ? With all the blood 
 and treasure England has poured out for Spain, and with 
 all the protection she has extended to that country, has it 
 lived a freer or purer political life than Sweden has done, 
 almost encircled by the right arm of Russia? Follow 
 her boundary line west and south, from the mouth of the 
 Neva to the mouth of the Amoor, and see if you can 
 find a people that has been depressed by her near neigh- 
 borhood. Poland,who invaded and half subjugated Russia 
 for many centuries, died of heart disease, like the republic 
 of Venice ; and all the doctors in the world could not 
 keep her alive and whole as a nation, because she rent 
 herself asunder in the convulsions of her malady. And, 
 we may say, in passing, there is more hopeful life in each 
 of the three parts than there was in them all when a 
 factious, discordant, and corrupted whole. Look at 
 Prussia, from the time she was a small duchy to this day 
 of her mighty empire. She has abutted upon Russia for 
 the whole length of her eastern boundary in the most 
 naked proximity, with not even a Rhine between them. 
 Has she been put back in the development of her political 
 or educational institutions by this near neighborhood? 
 Has her political life been chilled at its pulse by the 
 frosty breath of Russian despotism ? Look at Turkey. 
 Have the masses of the people of that country suffered 
 in their political, religious, or manhood rights by the 
 neighborhood of Russia? Suffered! they owe it to her 
 influence if centuries ago they had not sunk under 
 Mohammedan fanaticism to a depth of degradation and 
 oppression that no serfs nor helots of any other country 
 
National and International ^cestions. 321 
 
 or age ever reached. Suffered ! Why, the Jews under 
 Roman or Assyrian rule never had greater occasion or 
 longing for their Messiah to come for their deliverance, 
 than have the Christian populations of Turkey for the 
 coming of Russia to Constantinople, to break such a yoke 
 of bondage as the Jews never wore, even in Egypt. 
 What was Nebuchadnezzar, or Darius, or any Roman 
 emperor, or Pharaoh himself, to the Jews, compared with 
 what the Turkish sultans have been to tlie Christians of 
 their realm, numbering two thirds of their population? 
 Now, if never before, the universal American mind ought 
 to have learned that golden rule of democratic arithmetic 
 that counts in the census of a nation every human be- 
 ing in it, of whatever color, condition, race, or religion. 
 We are doing that now with the millions lifted from 
 slavery into our great and free peoplehood. Russia is 
 doing the same with the millions of her emancipated 
 serfs. The time, then, has come when America will sin 
 against her own soul if she longer follows the sentiment 
 of Western Europe, and refuses to recognize the large 
 Christian majority of the inhabitants of Turkey as the 
 Turkish nation. Such a sin will be doubled in guilt and 
 shame if she sides with any European coalition that shall 
 renew the attempt to fetter that majority with new thongs 
 of iron to the Moham.medan rule. 
 
 Who is afraid? What civilized nation has anything to 
 fear from Russia's possessing her. Mississippi to its mouth ? 
 What has mankind to fear in case that she should have 
 the city of the Constantines, the centre of the old Chris- 
 tian civilization of the world, as the fulcrum-point for 
 the leverage of her civilizing powei^? Would that 
 21 
 
322 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 increase the proximity of her neighborhood to Sweden, 
 Prussia, or Austria? If she is such a dangerous foe to 
 civilization, to her nearest neighbor, — if she has been 
 plotting to trample upon their rights and liberties, — why 
 need slie wait until she gets to Constantinople to carry 
 out her schemes? Would her army and navy be any 
 nearer Sweden, Prussia, Austria, France, or England at 
 that point than at Cronstadt? But let us come to the 
 very head and front of the suspicion that has so long 
 dominated England and involved her in sacrifice of blood 
 and treasure. Would Russia be any nearer India at 
 Constantinople than she is now ? If any one thinks so, 
 let him take the map and tell us the road by which she 
 could reach India with an army more easily and speedily 
 than by the road she owns and is on at this moment. 
 Why, she is on the Caspian Sea now, wdth great rivers 
 running through her territory into it. And that sea is 
 nearer to India by thousands of miles, measured by 
 facility of transportation, than the Mediterranean. Let 
 any intelligent man consider the character of the country 
 and the populations between the Caspian and India, and 
 try to imagine the attempt of a Russian force to march 
 upon Calcutta or Delhi. If such a force is not to go by 
 land, and by this route, — if it is not to bore its road 
 through the Himalayas, or cross their heights of snow 
 and ice, — how is it to go by water from Constantinople? 
 Just think of the attempt to pass a Russian fleet with 
 one hundred thousand men through the Suez Canal. 
 Let us suppose that Russia could build, borrow, or hire 
 two hundred ships, half of which should be able to carry 
 one thousand men each, and the other half arms, ammu- 
 
National and International Questions. 323 
 
 nition, horses and forage enough for the whole force. 
 Think of the insanity of putting these two hundred ships 
 and all their armaments on that canal. Fancy them, 
 bow to stern, midway in the narrow channel when a dozen 
 men with their picks and shovels should cut the embank- 
 ment and settle the whole fleet in the mud, with a row of 
 masts three miles long standing up like a line of dead 
 trees in the desert. Imagine the condition of such an 
 army in this predicament, and the folly of exposing it to 
 such destruction. 
 
 But if a Russian force could not go to India by land 
 through or over the Himalayas and intervening popula- 
 tions, nor by water via the Suez Canal, how w^ould the 
 possession of Constantinople give her any additional 
 facility to reach England's Indian empire, either by land 
 or sea? It is evident there would be no new, shorter, or 
 better way hj land. The only new way by sea would be 
 via the Mediterranean, under the British guns at Gibral- 
 tar, and around the Cape of Good Hope ; and that would 
 be more dangerous than from the mouth of the Neva 
 through the Baltic. But admit the possibility which 
 excites this baseless fear. Suppose Russia could reach 
 India, by sea or land, with a force equal to that which 
 she sent to the Crimea in the desperate struggle with the 
 four allied powers. Certainly this admission must be as 
 large as any intelligent Englishman could ask us to make. 
 Well, what would a Russian army of one hundred thou- 
 sand encounter on the frontier of India ? Why, an empire 
 containing a population three or four times as large as 
 that of the whole Russian realm ; an army outnumbering 
 her own force by three to one ; seaports of great capacity, 
 
324 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 full of ships ; inland cities, in Scripture simile, " walled 
 up to heaven ; " a new and vigorous English nation in 
 Australia, that would hear by telegraph the first footstep 
 of a Russian soldier on the Himalayas, or on their south- 
 ern slopes. To see such a nation as England subject 
 itself to the bondage of such a fear as this, to see her 
 pour out blood and treasure like w^ater under the fantasy 
 of these suspicions, ought to affect us, as her posterity, 
 as the nakedness of ISToah affected his saddened sons. 
 All but one short century in the last thousand years of 
 England's history is our history and our glory. We 
 know she is brave. The red seals of her valor, like 
 threaded brilliants, encircle the globe. Never did a nation 
 face and fight the actual giants that offered her battle with 
 stouter courage. Never did a nation so shake with fear 
 before the impalpable spectres of fancy. 
 
 If England would say to us, in answer to this opinion, 
 "Physician, heal thyself," or, ''Put yourself in my 
 place," we ought and are able to reply, " We have done 
 both. We have never been attacked by such a fear of 
 our neighbors. Ever since we have been a nation we 
 have not been afraid of you, nor you of us, as to any 
 invasion of each other's territory planned in time of 
 peace. We have divided this continent with you from 
 sea to sea. For hundreds of miles not a river or moun- 
 tain separates us. In some cases the boundary line may 
 run between the kitchen and parlor of the same house. 
 The St. Lawrence is a northern Mississippi, with its 
 immense bayous mostly on our side, while its mouth is 
 in your territory. Your American family is one with 
 ours in speech, religion, and more intimate afiinities. It 
 
National and International .Questions. 325 
 
 would doubtless be a great advantage to them to cast ia 
 their lot with ours, and become a happy and influential 
 part of one great continental nation. Perhaps you think 
 so yourself; it is quite certain you believe we think so. 
 Nor can you for a moment doubt our ability to make this 
 territory part of our own, if we were so disposed. Then 
 why do you not send an army of one hundred thou- 
 sand men to defend your provinces against us? For this, 
 and no other possible reason : you have an abiding confi- 
 dence in our good faith and disposition. You believe us 
 incapable of harboring such intentions as you impute to 
 ^Russia, who has shown as little disposition to trespass 
 upon your territory as we have ever done. What can 
 be her motive and temptation to annex India across the 
 Himalayas compared with ours to annex your American 
 provinces, if it could be effected honorably to all parties? 
 Then we would earnestly exhort you, for your best good, 
 to concede to Russia a little of that confidence you repose 
 in us. We can say this from our own experience ; for 
 we have proved her as a neighbor." 
 
 For twenty-five years, if no more, Russia has been a 
 nearer neighbor to us than she could be to England in India, 
 even if she were to-day at Constantinople. The treasures 
 of California were as rich as any she could seize in India. 
 When they were richest they were utterly defenceless. 
 They were farther from our navy-yard at Brooklyn or 
 Norfolk than is Calcutta from Portsmouth or London. 
 Two Russian frigates, each with a thousand men, from 
 the mouth of the Amoor, might have captured San 
 Francisco and all our Pacific settlements. We all knew 
 that, but we never put an additional sloop of war on the 
 
326 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 Pacific for fear of such a Russian invasion. Why not? 
 Because we believed her not only incapable of such an 
 act, but also of such an intention. We had faith in her 
 honorable disposition. We carried out in our thought 
 that golden rule w^hich should govern the deportment and 
 disposition of nations towards each other : we believed 
 that Russia would not do unto us what we would not do 
 unto her. If we could inspire England with like faith 
 in that nation and her nearer neighbors, it would work 
 more for her peace and safety, and honor too, than all 
 the coalitions she could organize. 
 
 TURKEY'S VALUE TO THE WORLD. 
 
 It is a phenomenon in the moral world, which never 
 before and never elsewhere had a parallel, that the great 
 Christian nations, that have poured out their blood and 
 treasure in rivers for Turkey, feel and recognize most 
 fully her utter worthlessness to civilized humanity and to 
 herself. An English writer, a few weeks ago, who doubt- 
 less defended the Crimean war, and would urge his 
 country to plunge into another for the same object, com- 
 plains of the heavy bill of costs that falls upon the Chris- 
 tian nations of Western Europe to keep that Mohammedan 
 power on its legs, or, rather, squatting on its Turkish 
 mat, in time of peace. He says the annuity of sustenta- 
 tion that England, France, and other Chri'stian countries 
 pay for this purpose in loans has amounted to £10,000,000, 
 
National and International .^estions* 327 
 
 or $50,000,000, for most of the years since the war 
 with Russia. And this writer goes on, with an honest 
 sinaplicity of wonderment, to inquire what has been done 
 with the money ; where and what are the railroads it has 
 built in Turkey ; what are the public roads, internal im- 
 provements, and useful and reproductive investments that 
 can be shown for all this borrowed capital. There is 
 Egypt, a little slice of a country, sandwiched between 
 two deserts, and hasped to Turkish rule by the irons 
 forged and fastened by Christian powers. She has 
 borrowed money, too, on her own credit, which the sultan 
 wanted and claimed for his own purposes. But she has 
 the Suez Canal to show as one of her assets in favor of 
 civilization. But what great public works has Turkey to 
 show for all the money that she has borrowed in England, 
 France, Holland, and Germany, since the Crimean war, 
 which was to galvanize her into the activity and progress 
 of civilized life? To this question of the English writer 
 let us add one more important and urgent still, and on 
 the same line of reflection. 
 
 It is natural and right that the capitalists of the present 
 day, and the nations to whom they belong, and whose 
 wealth they disburse in foreign loans, should begin to 
 inquire what Turkey has done with the money they have 
 lent her. It is natural and proper that they should begin 
 to look a little anxiously to see how all this hard-earned 
 money of Christian industries and commerce has been 
 invested ; what practical, tangible securities it has pro- 
 duced ; in a word, what assets Turkey would leave 
 available for them if she should sink into bankruptcy 
 under her protested paper. They know the sultan 
 
328 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 would leave a lot of palaces, seraglios, harems, and 
 many gewgawries of Oriental luxury and dissipation ; 
 but what solid works and values could be placed in the 
 inventory as her securities? It is pretty certain and 
 clear what the results of an examination of the books of 
 that country would be before taking an inventory of the 
 available properties left to its creditors. But if they find 
 that all their lent gold was lavished upon the fantastic 
 fripperies of the Ottoman dynasty, they will have this 
 fact to remember : that their loans to Turkey were perfectly 
 voluntary ; that they made these loans with their eyes 
 wide open to the character and habits of that govern- 
 ment. If they are not satisfied as to the reproductive 
 results of their voluntary loans, what has the civilized 
 world to say as to the results of the forced loans that 
 Turkey has levied upon it? For several centuries she 
 has set herself down on the very bosom of the Old World, 
 and stretched her limbs over the most ancient and sacred 
 centres of its civilization and history — upon Jerusalem, 
 Alexandria, and Athens, upon Tyre and Sidon, and 
 Smyrna and Damascus, as well as Constantinople, and 
 other cities and centres of more modern times. Just 
 feel the pulse of the moral and political life of every 
 country and city on which one of the fingers, not to say 
 a foot, of Turkey rests ; then say and believe, if you can, 
 that she is anything less or else than a huge nightmare, 
 lying right athwart the very breast of the world, chilling 
 and stopping the circulation of blood between its head 
 and feet. Is not the time of reckoning nearly come? Is 
 it too early, after these sad centuries, for the Christian 
 nations to take an inventory of Turkey's assets to 
 
National and International Questions, 329 
 
 humanity? to demand the results of its forced loans of so 
 many capitals of ancient civilization? to inquire search- 
 ingly what they were when she laid her paralyzing hand 
 upon them, and what they are now, and what they can 
 be, imder her rule ? Let them do this fairly and honestly, 
 and then see if, in face of all this history, they can unite 
 in a new coalition to squander more precious blood and 
 treasure to perpetuate her power and domination. 
 
 Neither the English nor American mind is ignorant or 
 insensible as to the character of Turkey, and to the 
 history it has made in the world. This has been taught 
 and illustrated in the school-books of both countries, 
 especially in this. Fifty years ago our geographies 
 represented, in rude but graphic wood-cuts, the only 
 activities which have distiaguished Turkey above the 
 most barbarous nations. In these homely pictures she 
 was seen busy at her first, her old, and only work. We 
 children saw her sawing in sunder, breaking and mutilat- 
 ing, the Corinthian columns of Grecian temples, as if the 
 choicest and costliest monuments of civilization in marble 
 were as hateful and dangerous to her bloody fanaticism 
 as the great library of Alexandria itself. And, what is 
 strange above all other moral phenomena of modern 
 times, the crusades of the middle ages have been trans- 
 formed by the ruling spirit of the ruling policies of Chris- 
 tendom. Once its thinly-peopled lands poured forth their 
 armed hosts to rescue Jerusalem and the holy places, so 
 precious to their religious faith, from the clutches of 
 Mahomet or of his possession and rule. Now, after six 
 centuries more of the history of that rule, the greatest 
 crusades these same Christian powers can organize are 
 
330 Ten-Mimtte Talks. 
 
 in defence and perpetuation of the system ; — as it were, 
 to rebuild the tomb of Mahomet over the sepulchre of 
 Christ, and a Turkish harem over the holy home of His 
 immaculate mother. The Crimean war was one of these 
 crusades, and the four powers that waged it numbered in 
 their realms more souls than breathed in Europe in the 
 time of Peter the Hermit. We are now threatened with 
 another crusade for the same object. England, our self- 
 blinded but noble mother, with more vitality of Chris- 
 tian life beating in her soul than in all the nations she 
 summons to this crusade for the rescue of the Crescent — 
 England is making ready to lead again ; to take the hard- 
 earned bread from her children's mouths, and throw it, 
 soaked in their blood, to the dogs of another war for 
 Mahomet ! 
 
 Why? What is Turkey to England, or England to 
 Turkey, that she can rush foremost, and blindmost, into 
 another crusade to prevent the Cross from superseding 
 the Crescent at Constantinople — that old capital of 
 Christianity? Our Webster's grand figure about Eng- 
 land's morning drum beating a reveille around all the 
 awakening continents is more than realized in her better 
 missionaries of civilization, that sound the reveille of 
 Christ's gospel in lands and tribes that never heard her 
 war-drum. How strange and sad the fact! — that she 
 should summon the Cross-bearing nations to an Armaged- 
 don, lest a Christian power should remove the dead 
 corpse that lies athwart the very highway of Christian 
 civilization which she has labored for centuries to cast 
 up all round the globe ! Of all the discordant noises 
 that war ever made on earth, none could so jar and drown 
 
National and International .^estions. 331 
 
 the hopeful harmoaies of human progress, or the con- 
 sistencies of Christian policy, as the voice of England's 
 war-trumpet sounding the charge of the Crescent against 
 the Cross, lest this should regain its old capital and glory 
 in the p]ast. 
 
 Since this American Republic first had a being and a 
 voice among the nations, no juncture in the Old World 
 has arisen at which that being and voice could more fitly 
 and effectually pay their debt to uoiversal humanity, and 
 to God's temporal kingdom on earth, than at this turning 
 crisis of civilization involved in ''The Eastern Question." 
 It is localizing and belittling this question to call it 
 Eastern. It is a question of the whole world, involving 
 the progress and interests of all mankind. In moral 
 proximity, it is the nearest question of the Old World to 
 us of this continent. In this sense we are fast becoming 
 an Eastern nation, more eastern than England can ever 
 be. Our Pacific shore and Asia's are being brought lip 
 to lip. Another decade will convey the intercourse and 
 speech of near neighbors between them. We have more 
 vital than material interests in this question. We have 
 reason and motive to claim a right of way for our civiliza- 
 tion Avestward through Asia via Constantinople. We 
 have reason to urge, in behalf of humanity, that that old 
 Pharos tower of Christian enlightenment, that so long 
 lield aloft its glorious lamp over the centre of the world, 
 and over its middle centuries of progress, shall no longer 
 stand, an extinguished lighthouse, to block and blacken 
 the high road of Christian civilization across the hemi- 
 sphere, to which it was once, and should be again, such a 
 central and shining light. And we can wish and say all 
 
332 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 this without wishing ill or evil to Turkey. We have 
 just learaed, and other nations are learning, to number 
 all the inhabitants of the national domain into the grand 
 totality of its peoplehood, and to give the rule to its 
 majority. The Ottoman dynasty and rule may die ; it 
 must die ; and then only can Turkey begin to live ; then 
 alone can its great majority, its true peoplehood, shake 
 off its fetters, arise to its feet, and w^alk erect the broad 
 pathway of the Christian nations. In raising down- 
 trodden millions to their feet for such a march, we have 
 stood and wrought nearer to the side of Russia than to 
 any other nation in the last decade. We may well 
 rejoice, if we cannot share, with her in the uplifting of 
 the great majority of Turkey to the political footing of 
 other Christian peoples. And we may as heartily rejoice 
 for, if not with, England at this consummation. No 
 other nation could derive more good from it than she. 
 The best service we can do her is to induce and enable 
 her to see this with her own eyes. There is a condition 
 from which no coalition ever can or ever will release her. 
 She might as well hope to arrest the force and law of 
 gravitation by '^' a foreign policy," as to avert that condi- 
 tion. Russia is now, and ever will be, her nearest civil- 
 ized neighbor in Asia. There is a vast space yet between 
 tliem. But let us admit her fear and our hope, that this 
 rough and savage interval shall be swallow^ed up in time ; 
 that Russia shall abut upon her northern line for its 
 whole length. Would not the Russians be as good, 
 peaceful, and profitable neighbors as the Afghans, or any 
 other tribes of similar character? Would they not buy 
 as many of her goods, and make as much lucrative com- 
 
National and International ^lestions, 333 
 
 merce with her as these uncivihzed and costly customers? 
 Would not Turkey under Russian rule, under a develop- 
 ment that should raise the dead cities, and centres of 
 populations, buried alive under Mohammedanism, be 
 worth to England ten times its present value ? 
 
 It is time not only for England, but for America, to 
 prepare for our mutual relations to Russia in the Oriental 
 world. These three nations are to form an isosceles 
 triangle which shall include most of Eastern Asia. 
 Russia's line already extends" from Riga, at the mouth of 
 the Dwina, across both continents, to the mouth of the 
 Amoor. England's line starts at an acute angle with 
 Russia's in the north-west corner of India, and diverges 
 eastward towards Southern China ; and the world will 
 not complain if it reaches the Pacific. The base of this 
 triangle is the Pacific coast, including commercial China 
 and Japan. The whole length of this base is now brought 
 broadside on to our Pacific America. In all the years to 
 come, we shall be nearer to that base than England, or 
 even Russia. The ceaseless and increasing activities of 
 our commerce, civilization, and Christianity must pene- 
 trate and permeate it with a new life. Then have we 
 not a national as well as a human motive and reason to 
 urge England to desist from her old antagonism to Russia ? 
 no longer to kick against the pricks of a Providence that 
 is shaping the great ends of humanity, including her 
 own? It is not armed coalitions she needs to form, but 
 enlightened and large-minded copartnerships in spreading 
 her own civilization over the world. Where can she 
 look for partners for this great work in Asia ? Is it not 
 as clear as day that Russia and America are her only 
 
334 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 possible or practicable partners on that continent? Are 
 they not partners with her there now by preoccupation ? 
 — and is not possession nine points in the law and motive 
 force of that civilizing power which is to transform Asia? 
 "Would that our American mind could ascend to this high 
 level of reflection, and then raise England's to the same 
 stand-point ; that they might look off together towards the 
 morning of their great and common destiny and duty. 
 They would soon see a light they never beheld before — 
 a light that would reveal the darkness of those low-ground 
 ''foreign policies" wdiich have cost the world so much 
 blood and treasure. 
 
 THE COST OF SMALL NATIONALITIES. 
 
 The hyperbole of popular comparisons or measure- 
 ments may exaggerate contrasts, but they make them 
 impressive. It is common to hear even a poor man say 
 this or thai '' is worth its w^eight in gold," sometimes even 
 when the this or that is his bright and active boy of fifteen 
 years, and weighing a hundred pounds avoirdupois. This 
 simile exaggerates the relative value of the two things com- 
 pared, but the estimate expressed is clear and impressive. 
 The same simile reversed may be applied even more 
 truthfully to entities in the political world, which have 
 been held at a higher price then they are worth to them- 
 selves or to mankind. By the simile reversed, I mean 
 that there are several small nationalities in Europe which 
 cost their weight in gold, though they are worth virtually 
 
National and International ^testions. 335 
 
 nothing to themselves as political communities, and less 
 than nothing to the great family of nations. And this 
 vast cost of their worthless being is not borne by them- 
 selves, but by outside pov^ers and peoples. Their pres- 
 ent political existence is of no more value to their own 
 subjects than each of seven kingdoms would be to its 
 subjects if England were again resolved into the old 
 Saxon heptarchy, or if France were reparcelled into as 
 many independent states. 
 
 Let us glance at the status of these small nationali- 
 ties as they appear in the scale of dignity. They are 
 the " unprotected females" in the community of European 
 nations. They themselves no more pretend to the ability 
 of self-standing and self-defending powers than does a 
 lone and defenceless woman sojourning or travellino- 
 among rude and stalwart men. Her very weakness is 
 her safety. She feels and trusts it as such. She be- 
 lieves it will enlist some stout and gallant champion in 
 her defence, should she be assaulted by a ruffian. This 
 weakness may be safety, but it is not dignity. And this 
 weakness is not the raison d^etre^ but the pouvoir d'etre, 
 of these small nationalities. And it is a wonder that 
 enlightened patriotism can see in theni a reason for in- 
 dependent existence. Their subjects are yet as patriotic 
 as those of the Great Powers, and as intelligent, doubt- 
 less. But with all this patriotism, they must at times see 
 and feel how the pygmy stature of their little state dwarfs 
 their own political status. What is their opinion, what 
 is their political entity worth, when weighed against that 
 of the same number of Englishmen, French, Prussians, 
 or Russians ? What is the weight of their government's 
 
336 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 opinion or ability in a great " question " that moves Clii'is- 
 tendom ? 
 
 Let us glance at the reason and value of these small states 
 in the light of the freedom, the liberal institutions, and the 
 general '' rights of man," which they procure and" maintain 
 for their subjects or citizens. Take Ireland, for example. 
 Could any form of independent nationalit}^, under a consti- 
 tutional monarchy, or a republic, raise an Irishman one 
 political inch above an Englishman on the sister island, or 
 in any quality or enjoyment of freedom to think, speak, 
 move or act in '' the pursuit of happiness " ? Would the 
 '' repeal of the union,'' or a republic, cheapen a single 
 acre of land, or even transfer one to a new owner without 
 pay to somebody? Ireland elects and sends to the Im- 
 perial Parliament more representatives pro ra^a of her 
 population than she would be allowed to send to Wash- 
 ington were she united to the American Republic. If 
 independent, would she send more or better representa- 
 tives to Dublin ? If she could and did, could and would 
 they be more unanimous at Dublin than in London, or 
 make better laws for the best good of her people, than they 
 could if equally honest and united in the British Parlia- 
 ment? In a word, could any form of national indepen- 
 dence, give an Irishman in Ireland a single possibility of 
 freedom in " the pursuit of happiness" which he cannot 
 enjoy or reach, as a subject of the United Kingdom, on 
 the same footing as an Englishman in England? 
 
 We might go around the whole circle of would-be inde- 
 pendent nationalities, and apply the same questions to 
 them. Crossing the diameter of this circle, what, may 
 we ask, can the subjects of the two Daoubian Princi- 
 
National and International ^lestions. 337 
 
 palities be, enjoy, or hope more than they could if they 
 were part and parcel of the Austrian empire? What 
 possibilities of progress, freedom, political dignity, and 
 material prosperity can the motley populations of Eu- 
 ropean Turkey attain under the Mohammedan rule of 
 Constantinople, which they could not possess under the 
 Russian sceptre at St. Petersburg? What liberties do 
 the few millions of Sweden enjoy, or pretend to, which 
 the population of Denmark do not possess and use? 
 What is the raison d'etre ? Wherein does it pay, in 
 political privilege or status, to keep up two independent 
 nationalities for Spain and Portugal? To use a term 
 . more familiar to the American than perhaps to any other 
 I community, these old sovereignties do not pay, in dignity, 
 I strength, and freedom, for what they expend themselves 
 to keep up their independent existence. 
 
 But, in some cases at least, where one of these small 
 nationalities has paid out of its own pocket a shilling 
 for its own deceptive and fruitless independence, the 
 '' Great Powers " around it have paid a pound sterling 
 as their annuity on this life assurance policy. If any 
 thoughtful reader thinks this an aggravated estimate, let 
 him just glance at the causes of all the wars in Europe 
 for the last two hundred years, at the " wars of succes- 
 sion," or wars to maintain a ''balance of power." Let 
 him analyze the composition of the English national debt, 
 and see how much the nationality of Spain has cost the 
 English people, and how they have been paid in ingrati- 
 tude and indignity for their money and their blood. Why, 
 a few days ago the English Chancellor of the Exchequer, 
 in answer to a question in the House of Commons, stated 
 22 
 
338 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 that England's bill of costs in the Crimean war wa& 
 £80,000,000 in money, not counting the blood she poured 
 out like water in the struggle. Now $400,000,000, be- 
 sides the sacrifice of precious life, was a pretty large sum 
 to sweat out of the incomes and industries of the Eng- 
 lish people in less than two years. It was a pretty large 
 sum for them to pay for the sham autonomy of two Danu- 
 bian provinces, or even for the existence of Turkey itself 
 as an independent nationality. But this sum is small 
 compared with the cost of Belgium to England. It 
 involved a great expense to France and other outside 
 nations to rive that small country from Holland, one of 
 the freest and most solidly prosperous nations in Europe ; 
 one of the first maritime countries in the world, of which 
 Belgium formed a part, and from which she could have 
 derived as much advantage as any section of the Neth- 
 erlands. Well, from the time this new nationality was 
 first set upon its feet, its " protection " has cost England 
 more than it has Belgium itself. Although three or four 
 other Great Powers signed the guarantee papers with her, 
 she knows that not one of them attached more obligation 
 to the compact than to the old vitiated treaty of Vienna : 
 that not one of them feels bound to fight for Belgium, 
 unless its own individual interests were involved. So 
 England has virtually assumed the whole obligation and 
 cost of defending that small nationality. From the date 
 of the treaty, 1839, she has apprehended an attack upon 
 the independence of her jproUgee^ and she has felt bound 
 to prepare to resist such an attack. For thirty years or 
 more, the invasion of Belgium has been one of the front- 
 rank probabilities for which she has provided in her armed 
 
National and International .Questions. 339 
 
 peace establishments. It is a moderate estimate that 
 these preparations for the defence of Belgium have cost 
 England £5,000,000 a year for the last thirty years. 
 She has just now voted £2,000,000 as an extra appro- 
 priation, to provide against the increased peril of the 
 hour. But this sum is only a small instalment of the 
 amount involved in her military armaments in behalf of 
 Belgium. If no outside power touches that little king- 
 dom with its little finger, this new danger wmII cost Eng- 
 land £20,000,000. But think of what would come if 
 either Prussia or France should attack Belgium. Eng- 
 land has just released all the other parties that signed 
 with her the Belgian guarantee ; she has engaged, single- 
 handed, to enter into this tremendous struggle, and fight 
 for France or against France for the independence of 
 Belgium. Just think, for one moment, of the illimitable 
 peril of blood and treasure involved in this obligation, 
 whichever horn of the dilemma England shall be obli- 
 gated to take. Suppose, at some desperate crisis of this 
 conflict, Prussia should violate the territory of Belgium, 
 and France should call upon England to fulfil the letter of 
 her bond, and send her iron-clad fleet to the Baltic to shell 
 the Prussian ports, bombard Berlin, and depose and cap- 
 ture Victoria's eldest daughter, and destroy Potsdam and 
 all the royal palaces. Or pursue the alternative, and 
 suppose that England should oblige herself, by this new 
 bond, to join Prussia in the complete subjugation of 
 France. In either case, when all that Belgium shall have 
 cost England, from 1839 to the end of the chapter, shall 
 have been computed, will not the total illustrate the 
 cost of small nationalities? 
 
340 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 IRELAND AS AN INDEPENDENT NATION. 
 
 I HAVE tried to prove that every Irishman in Ireland 
 is an equal heir with every Englishman in England, and 
 every Scotchman in Scotland, to all the estate of Great 
 Britain's greatness and glory, past, present, and to come. 
 Now, let an intelligent and patriotic Irishman compare 
 this sentiment, or the reason for it, with his feeling after 
 the first emotion of independence had subsided, and left 
 him in calm reflection upon Ireland's new present and 
 future. He must look first at her raw materials for a 
 republic or a self-standing nation. What are her popular 
 elements for such a government? He must remember 
 what Ireland was when she stood alone, and see what 
 she is now in oneness of sentiment and interest. And 
 he will see that the antagonisms of religion and race, 
 which the Union has hardly been able to curb, threaten 
 to burst forth with new fury when the connection is dis- 
 solved ; that independent Ireland will have such a North 
 and South as never existed in America. 
 
 But let us grant that these antagonisms may be con- 
 ciliated under a republic. We pass on to the next step 
 generally taken in erecting a nationality. Is Ireland to 
 have an army and navy for its defence? If so, for de- 
 fence against whom ? Great Britain or Germany ? Think 
 of a standing army of one hundred thousand and fifty 
 iron-clads for a poor young republic of five millions to 
 maintain ! But our Irish friend may say. We will throw 
 ourselves into th6 arms of France for protection. But 
 
National and International ^lestions. 341 
 
 this would be an economy like that of one of his hum- 
 bler countrymen who told his neighbor that " he had to 
 kill his pig to save its life ; '' meaning that his corn was 
 exhausted. What kind of independence can a ^protected 
 nation enjoy? What sentiment of dignity can such a 
 foreign protection inspire? What could France do for 
 Ireland as a protector that Great Britain does not and 
 cannot do as a partner with her in their great and com- 
 
 mon emnire 
 
 9 
 
 Bat, says our Irish patriot, we will then cast in our lot 
 with the American Republic. We will annex ourselves 
 to her. She will defend us. She is rich and powerful ; 
 she has ships of war, enough and to spare. We will 
 call our counties states ; or we will divide up the island 
 into congressional districts, and send over a member for 
 each, and half a dozen senators to Washington, who shall 
 speak out and vote on American matters as well as our own, 
 just as our members now do on imperial matters in the 
 British Parliament. This is a fair-looking programme, and 
 reads pleasantly ; but let us see how it would work. If 
 it allowed you a state legislature in Dublin, that would 
 have to legislate under the American Constitution. It 
 could do no more for Ireland than the legislature at Al- 
 bany does for the State of New York. It would have 
 to accept the relations of each of our states to the fed- 
 eral government. It would be allowed a large scope of 
 action, but would find itself under some restrictions. It 
 could not enact and enforce post-fado laws to affect life 
 or confiscate private property, even if such property were 
 held only by right of possession. There are some other 
 things that our several states cannot do, and which Ire- 
 
342 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 land could not do if she became part and parcel of our 
 Union. She could not enter into any political relations 
 witl) France, Great Britain, or other countries, any more 
 than Ohio. The American Constitution would cover 
 every acre, and every man, woman, and child on the 
 island, politically, economically, and financially. Even 
 if England consented to the connection at first, the lia- 
 bility of trouble with her on account of it would augment 
 our '' peace establishment," and Ireland would be ex- 
 pected to pay her share of the general expense. Then 
 what could we possibly do for her that Great Britain 
 does not or is unwilling to do ? Let us look at the ad- 
 vantage in this light. We could give no greater politi- 
 cal right to her people than universal suffrage. That 
 they have, or may have, now. We could not give them 
 freer or cheaper use of the right of public meeting, or 
 of freedom of opinion, speech, or of the press, than 
 they now enjoy, or may enjoy. We could not give them 
 more than one member of Congress at Washington to 
 one hundred thousand of their population, because our 
 home people would complain bitterly if the Irish were 
 put on a more favored footing than themselves in this re- 
 spect. Well, this ratio would give Irelend only about 
 fifty members, or not half as many as she now has in the 
 British House of Commons. \Ye could not give her half 
 the number of seats in our Senate that she now has in 
 the House of Lords. We could not insure that the fifty 
 members she sent to our Congress would be better men 
 for her interests than the hundred and more she now 
 sends to Parliament. 
 
 Then there is another contingency to the union of Ire- 
 
National and International ^lestions. " 343 
 
 land with the American Republic which both parties 
 would have to conform to. There is a page of restric- 
 tions and duties over against the list of advantages an- 
 ticipated. Our Congress would feel bound to insure a 
 republican form of government in Ireland when she had 
 espoused it of her own free will. We should have to 
 do just what England has done in one respect for a 
 century and more. We could not allow old feuds and 
 religious antagonisms to break out into bloody riots or 
 revolutions. We could no more allow Ku-Klux burnings 
 and massacres in Ulster or Connaught than in South 
 Carolina or Georgia. If the Irish legislature at Dublin 
 did not and could not suppress such doings with a native 
 force, American soldiers would have to be sent over to 
 do the work. While covering Ireland with its protection, 
 the American Constitution would impose its obligations 
 upon her, as much as upon Maine or Texas. It could 
 not allow her to dispossess the present proprietors of their 
 landed estates by force or without equitable compensation. 
 If the connection worked in any degree for the prosperity 
 of the country, then it would inevitably increase the price 
 of land; and, if wages increased in the same proportion, 
 the laborer could buy no more of it than .he can now. 
 We, as a consolidated republic, could not do so much for 
 him in this respect as the British government is offering 
 and actually doing at this moment. We could not pass 
 an act to take money out of our national treasury to buy 
 up estates in Ireland, cut them up in small holdings, and 
 sell them to small farmers, who should own them outright 
 by paying six or even seven per cent, annually for twenty- 
 one or twenty-two years. We could not buy and lease lands 
 
344 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 to them at that rate, even if the farms should continue 
 to be national property at the expiration of that period. 
 In a word, we could pass no such Land Bill at Washing- 
 ton as the British Parliament in London has enacted, 
 even if there were a hundred Irish members to speak 
 and vote in our Congress. 
 
 It would require a volume's space to balance the gains 
 and losses involved in the secession of Ireland from Great 
 Britain, and in its erection into a ^protected nationality, or 
 a part of the American Kepublic. The few considerations 
 adduced may suggest to thoughtful minds many more of 
 equal weight. There is one, not yet referred to, which 
 ought to commend itself to every patriotic Irishman. In 
 seceding from Great Britain, Ireland must tear out all 
 the brilliant threads she has contributed to the warp and 
 woof of the history of the British empire — the most 
 splendid textile ever woven out of human characters and 
 events. A '^ repeal of the union " must sever Ireland 
 from her part and lot in all this glorious past. She must 
 relinquish it all to her two sister kingdoms of the other 
 island, and start out in the world only with the poor capi- 
 tal of her own annals before the union. And what are 
 they? Ask the best educated men in America to say off- 
 hand what Ireland was and did for herself and for the 
 w^orld when she stood alone ; what history she made worth 
 a better record or appreciation than it has received. Look 
 at the experience of other secessionists. Does the outside 
 j world credit to Belgium any part of the glory she contrib- 
 \ uted to Dutch history ? Suppose our Southern States had 
 ' succeeded in their attempt, and established themselves 
 as an independent nation, with the help of England or 
 
National and International ^lestions. 345 
 
 France. Would they have celebrated thereafter the 
 Fourth of July? Would they not have severed them- 
 selves from all the American history that preceded and 
 followed that event up to another Fourth of July of their 
 own making? 
 
 There is another consideration which should weigh 
 more still with the patriotic and intelligent Irishman. 
 The union he has so long hated and denounced is already 
 repealed. The England of Elizabeth, of the Charleses 
 and Georges, is dead and buried beyond the reach of 
 resurrection. A new Eugland is arising, ready, and will- 
 ing, and working to right all the wrongs of by-gone cen- 
 turies. It is an England that in less than ten years will 
 have and exercise a democratic force equal to the people 
 power of any republic on earth ; a force which, unlike 
 ours, may be brought to bear upon the helm of tlie gov- 
 ernment in twenty-four hours after the telegrapliic signal 
 is given ; a force that can change the pilot and the helms- 
 man in a month or week, if need be, after they take the 
 ship's wheel. This young, new democratic England has 
 suffered bitterly and long from the same rule that op- 
 pressed Ireland in the past. It hates that rule and its 
 memories as heartily as the Irish can do. But it has 
 entered upon a new present with a great heart and eye 
 of hope upon a near and glorious future. It is ready, 
 willing, and working to put every Irishman in Ireland 
 upon the same political footing, and in the same capacity 
 of freedom in the pursuit of happiness as every English- 
 man in England or as every Scotchman in Scotland. If 
 there still remains any difference to the disadvantage of 
 the Irishman, say what it is, and you will find English 
 
34^ Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 and Scotcli ready to rectify it. There are a few things 
 \vhich neither the Imperial Parliament in London nor a 
 Republican Congress at Dublin or Washington can do. 
 Neither nor all can change the Irish climate, nor trans- 
 mute nor transpose metals or minerals. They cannot 
 transfer the coal mines, and iron mines, copper, tin, and 
 lead mines of England to Ireland. - They cannot trans- 
 form the hereditary characteristics of the Irish people, 
 nor extinguish the antagonisms of their religious faiths. 
 We have never been able to extinguish these here, right 
 under the sunlight of our best institutions, much less 
 could we do it in Ireland. 
 
 These reflections lead to this conclusion : The best we 
 can advise or wish the Irish people is to be content wath 
 what the English and Scotch are contented with, or are 
 able to attain ; or to come to America, and be contented 
 with what they can enjoy here. If there is now or shall 
 hereafter be the slightest difference to his disadvantage, 
 before the law, between an Irishman in Ireland and an 
 Englishman in England, agitate until the two conditions 
 are perfectly equalized. You will find plenty of noble- 
 minded men in the two other kingdoms to help you in 
 this or any other practical advantage to Ireland. But be 
 contented there or here. A man catmot serve two mas- 
 ters. He cannot love two countries with equal loyalty. 
 Patriotism, like conjugal love, cannot divide itself be- 
 tween two rivals. If American citizenship is worth to 
 our Irish citizens all that draws them hither, then it is 
 w^orth their undivided patriotism, as much as that of 
 native Americans. We have a right to claim that patri- 
 otism from them. There is no land the sun shines on 
 
National and International Questions. 347 
 
 that has done more or paid more for the loyalty of a 
 one-hearted people than America. And this we should 
 have as fully as France or Germany, if our Irish citizens 
 would, forsaking all other, keep themselves only unto 
 this Republic so long as they both shall live. 
 
 In a word, it is high time that Irishmen in Ireland or 
 other regions shall take to their hearts some country 
 which they will serve, love, honor, and keep, in sickness 
 and in health. They have two of the best countries and 
 governments in the world to choose between. Either 
 merits their best. patriotism. If an Irishman prefers to 
 be a republican in America to being a democrat in the 
 new Ireland to be, if he chooses to be in political valua- 
 tion the hundred thousandth part of a member of our 
 Congress rather than to be the fifty thousandth part of a 
 member of the House of Commons, let him come here. 
 We have plenty of room in America for every Irishman 
 in the world who wishes to be a republican. But, in the 
 name of all loyal patriotism, let us have peace, let us 
 have content in one country or the other. In the name 
 of all that is pure and of good report in conjugal love and 
 fidelity, away with these morganatic marriages in the 
 political relations of subjects or citizens to the countries 
 of their birth or adoption. 
 
348 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 BIRTHPLACE OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 Take it for what it was and is to the most vital life 
 of the Anglo-Saxon race, and of all peoples that have 
 wrestled up to the high levels of civil and religious lib- 
 erty, there is no square foot of space in England, or in 
 Europe, upon which an Englishman or an American 
 should set his foot raore reverentially than upon the iron- 
 hard, thin-worn floor of Wycliffe's pulpjt in the old church 
 of Lutterworth. So we believed and felt when we made 
 that venture with a little of the deep veneration which 
 the place should inspire in a thoughtful man. We say, 
 inspire^ which expresses a faculty that one does not often 
 ascribe to wood, stone, or any inanimate thing. A poet 
 of respected genius has versified " Sermons in Stones," 
 which mean audible or intelligible speech. There are no 
 stones put one upon another in the walls of any English 
 or European church so full of instructive speech, and 
 inward and outward breathing, as these that enclose Wyc- 
 liffe's oaken pulpit. If there be a point of space and a 
 point of time in conjunction where and when a devoutly- 
 read man in history might feel the impulse on him to take 
 off his shoes and stand softly on his naked feet upon a 
 given spot, it might well be in his first silent minute on 
 this thin floor, on which the first apostle of the English 
 tongue and of the Reformed faith of Christendom preached 
 the truth of the great Gospel as he saw and felt it five 
 hundred years ago. Stand reverently on these worn and 
 narrow boards, and listen with attentive faculties to the 
 
National and International ^lestions. 349 
 
 preaching of these time-eaten walls. Some of their 
 loosened stones have fallen inward upon the paved ifloor. 
 But they preach their silent sermons as they lie crum- 
 bling in the half-demolished pews. Who has not read of 
 Archimedes and his lever? of his bold boast that if he 
 could make it long enough and find an outside fulcrum- 
 point, he could raise the solid globe with it? Mind your 
 standing, because the breath of centuries has thinned and 
 weakened it. What Archimedes sought Wycliife found 
 just where you stand — a fulcrum-point and a lever that 
 lifted a greater weight than the Grecian Samson of 
 mathematics promised to raise. Here he found and 
 worked a leverage that made the Vatican and the Papal 
 cathedrals of Christendom rock and vibrate as if an 
 earthquake were shaking their foundations. 
 
 How wonderful are these moral forces that move the 
 world of mind, transform the life and structure of na- 
 tions, and regenerate the cycles of human history ! Here 
 in this quiet, rural village in Leicestershire, in the midst 
 of tree-bound and level farms, threaded and illumined by 
 a branch stream of the gentle Avon, Wycliffe set in mo- 
 tion a force that moved the world ; and while the world 
 was moving on the ground-swell of mental emotion, little 
 Lutterworth was perhaps as quiet and still as to-day. 
 He has been called " the morning-star of the Reforma- 
 tion." Bat the light and warmth of stars do not equal 
 or express the vitality which he infused into the great 
 movement. His life was more than a light to it. It 
 gave to it virtually its first pulse of action ; and the beats 
 of the onward movement, though sometimes slow and 
 faint, w^ere felt through the two centuries that intervened 
 
350 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 between him and Luther. This he did, and did it here 
 in this rural village ; he first put the Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ into the homely, honest English tongue of the 
 common people ; for there were no English people 
 nor Englsih language in Alfred's day ; and a small por- 
 tion of the English nation in Wycliffe's could read what 
 Alfred wrote or speak what he spoke. The pope at 
 Rome, and his legates, cardinals, and bishops in England, 
 and all through Christendom, were not much moved 
 with fear at Wycliffe's Latin disputations with the monks 
 at Oxford. He might overmaster them in argument, 
 without breaking or bending a beam in the great struc- 
 ture of their system. But when he took Christ's Gospel 
 out of the iron coffin of the coldest of all dead tongues, 
 in which they had shut it from the masses of Europe for 
 centuries, and put it in the living vernacular of the Eng- 
 lish people, fearfulness surprised them, as if they saw the 
 same handwriting on the walls of papal dominion that 
 Belshazzar saw on his. No Reformation in England, or 
 France, or Germany, could have been produced or begun 
 while the New Testament was shut up in Latin. None 
 knew this better than the Roman hierarchy ; and they 
 regarded it as the most pernicious and guilty high treason 
 to their system for any one to put the pure and simple 
 truths of the Gospel before the masses in their own na- 
 tive tongue. This WycliiFe did, and did it here in quiet 
 little Lutterworth, whither he had been driven by a perse- 
 cution that would have drunk his blood had it not been for 
 stout John of Gaunt and a crown more jealous of the po- 
 litical than the spiritual domination or doctrines of the 
 pope. Here he translated the New Testament verse by 
 
National and International ^^estions. 351 
 
 verse, feeling that in each he was putting out a lamp into 
 the darkness which no tempest of papal persecution nor 
 night-damps of ignorance could ever extinguish. A mod- 
 ern painting represents him here sending forth apostolic 
 couples of converted monks with copies of his manuscript 
 Gospels. Another equally impressive might be painted 
 representing his copiers at work upon the text written 
 with his own hand, showing two or three shaven polls 
 clustering over the manuscripts ; for some of his mis- 
 sionary monks doubtless transcribed those Gospel words 
 which they carried forth to the people. What faith ! 
 what labor ! to lighten a great land of darkness through 
 a few gimlet-holes ! to revolutionise a people's creed 
 and customs with manuscript books ! What a mighty 
 belief uplifted his soul, that, put in those quaint, hearty 
 words of the common people's speech, the Spirit of God 
 would clothe them with tongues of fire ! One of his 
 Testaments must have spoken to Chaucer in this way, 
 for he was one of Wycliffe's earliest converts. He was 
 but two or three years the junior of the great Reformer, 
 and was a special favorite at court and in aristocratic 
 circles. He lacked the bold heart and strong convictions 
 of his master. He ran well for a time, and bore much 
 obliquy and persecution. But the strain was too great for 
 his endurance. He succumbed, recanted, and betrayed 
 his associates of the new faith, and in other defections 
 made work for bitter and healthy repentance in later 
 years, as his '' Testament of Love " fully proves. It was 
 only one of the truth-rays that radiated outward from 
 Wycliffe's life that alighted upon Chaucer's opening mind. 
 It lit up within him that light and glow of thought 
 
352 . Ten'Mi7iiite Talks. 
 
 M'hich made him as much the father of English poetry 
 as his teacher was the father of the English Reformation. 
 Wycliffe's Testament, very likely, was the first book that 
 Chaucer ever saw written in the EDglish language, as it 
 existed after the Norman conquest ; and had the poet not 
 seen what expression and working power it gave to the 
 words of the Gospel, he might liave penned his immortal 
 verse in Latin or Norman-French. 
 
 Who that has read the very hornbook of English his- 
 tory can stand in WyclifFe's pulpit, and look around upon 
 the dilapidated walls of the old Lutterworth church with- 
 out being stirred with these impressive reminiscences? 
 Here he stood for. years and put forth those brave ut- 
 terances that made the principalities and powers of the 
 papal empire writhe with rage. When their long arms 
 of persecution had well nigh reached him, a strooger 
 than theirs rescued him from their grasp. In the mid- 
 dle of a sermon which their persecution threatened to 
 arrest, he fell dead in this his pulpit. He looked, and 
 spoke, and breathed his last within these walls. Now, 
 what house built with men's hands on the island of Great 
 Britain should be held more sacred by the whole Euglish- 
 speaking race in both hemispheres than this old Lutter- 
 worth church, in which WyclifFe preached and died? In 
 what English edifice should all the offspring states of the 
 mother country feel a more precious and costly owner- 
 ship? Why, WyclifFe was not only the father of the 
 great Reformation, and of all it begot of religious and 
 civil life, but his Bible was the mother of all English 
 literature. He stands in the same relation to Shakespeare 
 as Lutterworth, on one of the head streams of the Avon, 
 
National and International Questions. 353 
 
 stands to Stratford. The river of the bard at the place 
 of his birth and burial does not drink more of the little 
 Swift of the Leicestershire village, than did his genius 
 drink from the fountain-head of WyclifFe's thoughts. How 
 affecting is the incidental connection between the burial- 
 place of the one and the birthplace of the other I A cen- 
 tury and a half before Shakespeare was born, the ashes of 
 the great Reformer, thrown into the stream at Lutterworth, 
 and floating down the Avon, may have lodged their sacred 
 sediment upon the gr^en rim of the poet's river, which 
 his baby feet pressed in his first walk in Stratford church- 
 yard. Shakespeare has had his ter-centenary. Why should 
 not Wycliffe have his quinque-centenary, in which the 
 whole English-speaking race should join to commemorate 
 what they owe to his great life's work for all that is 
 precious and everlasting in civil and religious freedom 
 and vitality? It is now just ^\q hundred years since he 
 sent forth the first copies of his English Gospels from 
 Lutterworth. Nothing could be more graceful and ap- 
 propriate than for those who value his memory to mark 
 the anniversary with some useful and lasting token of 
 their gratitude for his life. And no such token would 
 be more appropriate or appreciated than the restoration 
 of the church in which he preached and died. It is now 
 sadly dilapidated. From the pulpit one may see frag- 
 ments of wall and cornice lying at the broken feet of the 
 pillars. The villagers are making a strenuous effort to 
 raise the means for renovating and perpetuating the 
 edifice. The people of our American Boston felt moved 
 by a kind of proud as well as filial affection to contribute 
 to the restoration of the grand old mother church of Eng- 
 23 
 
354 Ten-Minute Talks. 
 
 land's Boston. We earnestly believe that thousands from 
 Maine to California would contribute as gladly and as 
 gratefully to the restoration of Wycliffe's church in Lut- 
 terworth, if they knew its state and need, and the pleas- 
 ure with which their gifts would be received by those 
 now about to put their hands to the work. Lutterworth 
 is a small, secluded market-town, with no large sources 
 of manufacturing or commercial wealth. Consequently 
 a large share of the requisite sum must come from abroad. 
 We earnestly hope that many A-merican hands will join 
 in the work of rebuilding the broken walls of this village 
 church, consecrated by so many precious memories. The 
 medium for the transmission of their free-will offerings 
 may be easily and quickly instituted, and a new centre 
 of interest established in the mother country for all who 
 inherit and value the vigorous vitalities of Christian faith 
 and civil freedom which it has begotten and bequeathed 
 to the world. 
 
National and International .^estions. 355 
 
 THE THREE GRAND ARMIES OF CIVILI- 
 ZATION. 
 
 An " Eastern Question, " of a compass and issue the 
 foremost men in the political and diplomatic world have 
 not comprehended, is about to surprise and agitate the 
 nations. The slow and almost imperceptible processes 
 by which Divine Providence shapes their being, prog- 
 ress, and destiny, are now bringing them face to face 
 with a fact that will astonish them. For nearly two 
 thousand years the grand march of Christian civilization 
 w^as w^estward. It is now changing front and movement ; 
 and its great armies are bearing down upon the vast 
 continent of its birth in a triangular advance, already 
 inclosing its whole arena. And, what is rather interest- 
 ing, but not at all uncommon to these slow movements, 
 the three armies are not only unconscious of the direc- 
 tion and issue of their movement, but are averse from 
 both. Providence has made them involuntary allies ; 
 but they can no more loose themselves from the alliance 
 than they can '' loose the bands of Orion." Two of 
 these hosts are as antagonistic to each other as possible, 
 and threaten to fight each other on the way to the great 
 victory for mankind for which the three have been chosen 
 and put in the field. It is for this reason that the third 
 should, at this stage of the movement, apprehend more 
 fully and fairly the great result to be accomplished by 
 the alliance. 
 
 It must be clear to all thou^j^htful minds that have 
 
35^ Ten-Mimite Talks. 
 
 watched the tencleacies of this movement for the last few- 
 years, that Englaud, Russia, and America are the three 
 great powers of the world selected, prepared, and put iu 
 unconscious and involuntary alliance for the reduction 
 of the whole continent of Asia to the rule and role of 
 Christian civilization. To two of these powers — Eng- 
 land and Russia — this alliance is not only unrecognized, 
 but very repugnant. It is for America, then, being free 
 from this prejudice, to recognize this calling of Provi- 
 dence, and to induce her two allies to be '' obedient to 
 the heavenly vision " of this great duty to mankind. It 
 is impossible for one or the other to withdraw from this 
 alliance, or pause in the march. Why should one of 
 them try or wish to do it? There is no possible alterna- 
 tive for one or two of the three. They cannot change 
 places ; they cannot change partners ; they cannot change 
 the direction of their march. 
 
 What other power in this world could be substituted 
 for Russia in the northern half of Asia? Is it not as 
 clear as day that the world must make the best of her 
 as a civilizing power? Does she lack the possible ca- 
 pacity of doing her share of this great work ? What is 
 the work? Remember, it is not to enlighten Western 
 Europe. It is not to add her lamp-light or star-light to 
 the sun's, in those bright latitudes of civilization. It is 
 to carry its growing illumination into the darkest lands 
 of paganism, which she only can reach. Has she not 
 done something already towards the enlightenment of 
 millions of different race and tongue, who would have 
 been in utter darkness to-day had it not been for her? 
 Has she not walked with her small lamp, lighted at 
 
National and International Questions. 357 
 
 divine revelation, over steppes, mountains, and thinly- 
 peopled deserts of snow, from the Baltic to the Pacific, 
 revealing to the benighted some of the fundamental facts 
 and principles of the Christian religion ? Why, one of 
 her queens, Catharine II., put these central verities into 
 more lanoruao;es in her time than all the churches of En;2r- 
 land had done up to that date. These single or central 
 truths must be impressed upon the minds of heathen 
 populations before they can be raised to higher levels of 
 Christian faith and life. And it is inevitable that Russia 
 alone must do this w^ork for the northern half of Asia. 
 
 Certainly, every mind w^ell read in modern history, 
 must concede that no nation in Christendom ever suffered 
 so much for civilization as Russia. For several centu- 
 'ries she barred with her lacerated and prostrate body 
 the flood of Tartar barbarism which threatened to break 
 over the whole of Western Europe. The intelligent and 
 honest mind that can concede this fact, must also admit, 
 that she has done as much for civilization as any nation 
 in the world in the same space of time and with the same 
 means. Every unprejudiced man, disposed to be fair and 
 just in his mind towards her, must admit this as a fact. 
 He must concede that she is the youngest nation in Eu- 
 rope ; that she entered upon her political existence, as 
 such, with a smaller capital of civilization than any other 
 nation ever started with ; that she was pushed up against 
 the North Pole, and to this day owns no port open all 
 the year round to the sea ; that it has been the policy of 
 suspicious and unfriendly powers to keep her as far as 
 possible from contact with the great illuminating points 
 of civilization ; that she was obliged to construct her 
 
358 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 nationality out of the ignorant, degraded, and heteroge- 
 neous populations between the Gulf of Bothnia and Bher- 
 ing's Straits. In a word, it is doubtful if Peter the Great 
 had as much of the Avorking force of civilization to start 
 with, as the single town of Salem possessed, wheu he 
 founded St. Petersburgh. Now, it is not fair to expect 
 of her as much work for civilization as France or Eng- 
 land has performed, each with the heritage of a thousand 
 years of enlightenment. It is not fair to demand proof 
 that she has done as much with the benighted and scattered 
 races of Northern Asia, as England has done with the 
 most civilized peoples south of the Himalayas. It is the 
 question of the future, of her progressive capacity to do 
 the part devolving on her as a copartner with England 
 and America. 
 
 To perform her part of this joint work for Asia, the 
 world must be willing to see Russia close down upon the 
 northern line of England in India. On this great trian- 
 gular march, the right and left wings of the two armies 
 are deploying towards each other. They must, ere 
 long, meet, and they should meet in peace. Whatever 
 America can do to promote such a meeting, she owes it 
 to her own part and position to do. In the language of 
 the old stirring song, she " is marching on." She must 
 march, she will march, from the Asiatic coast of the 
 Pacific on and on westward into the heart of the conti- 
 nent, till she meets the two hosts of her allies marching 
 eastward, each on its line of the triangle. " There is no 
 discharge from the war" of civilization for one or the 
 other. They must march on, even if they fight by the 
 way with each other. Why should they turn their arms, 
 
National and International .^testions. 359 
 
 or hatred, or jealousy towards each other? Is it any 
 more dangerous for England to have Russia her near- 
 est neighbor in India, than it has been for Prussia 
 or Sweden to have her in closer proxinaity to the centre 
 of her power? In the long run, has she been a bad 
 neighbor to them ? Have they not enjoyed as much solid 
 freedom, and made as much solid progress, as any other 
 continental nations, while abutting upon her empire? 
 Certainly we may say that she has been a good neighbor 
 to us. She has been far nearer to us, via the Pacific, 
 than she has been to England in India, via the Himalayas. 
 There was a time when, with a single frigate from the 
 mouth of the Amoor, she might have captured the whole 
 of California and its gold mines. 
 
 It then behooves America to say to her two allies in the 
 field, '' Fall not out by the way. March on in parallel 
 columns, and I will meet you midway with mine. I am 
 planting all my civilizing forces on the Pacific coast of 
 the continent. I am marching on westward to meet you. 
 We are training thousands and tens of thousands of Chi- 
 nese and Japanese to act as guides and interpreters of 
 our institutions, our literature, religion, and political life. 
 We are marching on with our school-houses, school-books, 
 and school-teachers ; with our railway engines, sewing- 
 machines, and sowing, mowing, and reaping machines, 
 with all the best interests of our mechanical and agricul- 
 tural industry and progress. Here is Japan — an empire 
 born in a day. She strikes her old glory to our irresist- 
 ible civilization. She is the first great victory it has won. 
 She offers herself as a new base for our march from con- 
 quering to conquer. Press on, and we will meet you ; 
 
360 Ten-Minute Talks, 
 
 and when the great conquest is accomplished, we allies 
 will share its glory with all the rest of the wide world." 
 
 One can only touch the fringe of this great question, 
 which will agitate the world, in the space of a few pages. 
 The American mind cannot be made up and expressed 
 too soon on the subject. Its opinion should be so clear, 
 fair, dispassionate, and outspoken, as to produce a salu- 
 tary impression on the two great nations with which we 
 are allied on this great triangular march of civilization. 
 
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