Until recently Americans have had good grounds for complaining that their public servants were almost a minus quantity in literature. The complaint had an especially sharp edge in view of the fact that at an earlier period our Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Adams, and others, had been among the foremost writers of the country; and it was still further aggravated by the contrast we seemed to present to France, England, and Germany, where a public man is usually also a literary man. The rule in France is that an eminent politician is an author, and the most distinguished statesmen and princes have written books. Even Louis Napoleon wrote a book on Cæsar, and one of the best accounts of our late war is the stately volumes of Count de Paris. In England, the rule is the same. The queen herself takes pride in the books she has produced. John Bright is almost alone in having no literary tastes, but his speeches will long survive in the volumes they will fill. Disraeli and Gladstone, Bulwer and Macaulay, Fawcett and Dilke, are only a few contemporary names in along list of distinguished statesmen who have excelled as writers for periodicals and as producers of books. In this country, from about 1830 to 1880, our public men wrote little. Benton’s “Thirty Years,” Webster’s speeches, and Sumner’s orations, and some other less famous works, do indeed redeem the half century; but when we have said all that can be said in praise of exceptions, the rule seems to have been that an American politician was not a writer, and a phrase of contempt attributed to an eminent Senator expresses the feelings of our politicians against “them literary fellers” in a form which is full of a significance from which we prefer to turn away our ears. Too many of our public men have despised literature, and justified literature in returning the sentiment with interest.
We are entering upon a happier period. The American statesman is returning to authorship. It is a wholesome change. Mr. Blaine’s history will occur to many readers as an illustration. It is hardly less noteworthy that his late associate on the Republican ticket has written for The Chautauquan able papers on a public question which is a living issue. A very long list might be made of public men who are in good fame as writers. The witty S. S. Cox will at once occur to all our memories, and another eminent Democrat is said to be writing a history of his times. General Grant finds relief from the terrible strain of his financial misfortunes in writing the history of his battles. We have employed some of our most gifted authors as diplomats; as, for example, Motley, the historian, James Russell Lowell, the poet and literary critic, and George P. Marsh, the man of universal knowledge; but it may, probably will, come to pass that some of their stamp will more and more appear in our public life at home. We have kept poets, philosophers, and novelists alive by giving them clerkships in Custom Houses. Nathaniel Hawthorne, Howells, “Ik Marvel” (Donald G. Mitchell), and others, rose to the dignity of consulships. Francis Lieber was tolerated in a Custom House clerkship in New York. We are probably coming to the time when such men may be members of Congress and shape the legislation of the country. Literary men are usually the most practical of men; that they are dreamers of impossibilities is the strangest of our popular delusions. A few exceptions have been carelessly considered as making the rule for the class. The sort of practicality—tempered by philosophy—which the literary man brings to affairs is what our public life most needs. All clean knowledge is a light where it abides, and the value of unclean knowledge (such as some practical politicians boast themselves in), is a forlorn minus quantity.
The advantages to be anticipated from the increase of the literary spirit in our public men are too numerous to be here set forth in detail. A few suggestions must suffice for our present purpose. In the first place, public men are experts, and have therefore valuable knowledge to impart. We are all well aware that General Grant knows important things about his battles which other men do not know. It is equally true that any clerk in a department, or any member of Congress has an intimate acquaintance with many concernments of considerable moment. A man who has served ten years in Congress could instruct and please us all if he had the art of describing the methods of law making. It is not a pleasant fact that the writing of a book on “Congressional Government,” which is at once philosophical and entertaining, should have been left to a college professor; nor is it pleasant to feel that the author of this book, Professor Woodrow Wilson, is probably the last man whom Baltimore will think of sending to Congress. The men who see the meaning of things and connect them with principles, and align them with historical precedents, are needed in Congress to give it dignity and character. In short, we ought to send our best men to Congress, and we are approaching an era when “best men” will generally be possessed of literary tastes and habits. Our public life is rich in materials for useful books and entertaining novels. Most of these materials lie neglected because we send inferior men to our public work. Another distinct advantage will be found in the preservation of many bright men whom we send to Congress from rusting out of intellectual brightness and becoming mere political workers. The majority of men sent to Congress are college men; they have had some literary tastes and habits. They have often been journalists. The public opinion which hedges them in converts them into office hunters and office peddlers, and consumes their lives in routine and political anxiety, to the detriment of all generous and aspiring manhood. The man whose brain work, in periodicals and books, will secure his position before his constituents, is a man saved.
The change which is going on is mainly the work of the enterprising managers of periodicals. Most good literary work in our day first reaches the public in periodicals. Much excellent work is found only in periodicals. The editors have discovered that there is valuable matter to be had by encouraging public men to write. Our articles by General Logan, for example, contain a view of a great question which is best seen in all its aspects by a public man who has seen all sides of it in a Congressional committee. Many similar articles have in recent years appeared in literary periodicals. An invitation to present his views to the public through such a periodical as The Chautauquan is a challenge to candor and a stimulus to thoroughness. The work done educates the statesman while it informs the people. It creates an intelligent sympathy between public servants and those whom they serve. It carries on that form of education in which light and wisdom are put into the first place, while turgid bombast and self-seeking buncombe are rendered odious to the people whom they have deceived.
Among the unpleasant reflections which the reading of Bishop Hurst’s “History of the Reformation” will be apt to awaken in many minds is that there has been a great decline in the spirituality of the church. In those days religious earnestness was at its maximum; we seem to be passing through a period when it is at a minimum. How far the seeming is accurate, it may not be easy to determine; but appearances are against the modern church. All our religious services lack in spirituality. The lack is in the sermon, the song, the prayer. Family religion has apparently little of the intense power of the former days. The conversation of Christians is less frequently on religious subjects. We are carefully weeding out of familiar speech the old references to Providence, Death and Judgment. We fall into silence when one among us introduces such themes. Religious feeling and expression have disappeared from the surface of our life in a most astonishing way. We are not made, the unconverted are not made, to feel the force and warmth of religious conviction. The sermons are logical, literary and cold; if there be warmth, it seems to be rather intellectual than religious. The more able religious editors complain that they can not get written for them articles which are at once readable and spiritual; while other editors condemn any articles of that type as savoring of a “dreary religiosity;” and others say that the expression of religious experience has “hopelessly gone into the keeping of cranks and weak-headed and morally-unsound persons.” One man says: “I can imagine nothing sweeter to hear than religious experience ought to be; but when I listen to it I hear either out-worn phrases or senseless fanaticism; and these have been driven from the respectable churches and are monopolized by ignorant egotists in the out-of-the-way corners of the country.”
A partial explanation of the facts lies in the statement just quoted. But it is very partial. Why should fanatical zeal kill genuine earnestness? If we think and feel earnestly in religion, why do we not talk of what is burning in our hearts, as the fathers did, in language of our own? A round of set phrases does denote vacancy of spirit, but the earnest spirit is not banished from our heart by the formalism of another’s speech. It may be pleaded for us that we are in a transition state; that the Reformation did develop a form of earnestness, and that our earnestness can not work in that harness and is reverently silent because appropriate speech is wanting. But why do not hundreds of ministers who have all gifts of intellect utter spiritual thought and emotion? Why are they forever dealing rather with opinions than facts of the spiritual life? We ask such questions in no censorious spirit; they are pressed home to many anxious hearts, and the wonder grows whether modern Christianity is tongueless respecting its experience because it is backslidden and even skeptical. We could frame, as has often been done, explanations; but we still doubt whether they really explain. The spiritual activity is of all inner motions the one least likely to lose all power to express itself.
It is true that a vast body of believers have the spirit of giving and of work. They make noble offerings, they teach the children in Sunday-schools, they make sacrifices of time and ease and money to carry on churches. In these things no former generation had so glorious a record. It is probably true that this vast body of believers contains as large a proportion as any Reformation body of persons who would die for their faith. It can not be said of such a body of persons that faith is not in it. Making all allowances for conventionality and religious fashion, there remains proof enough that the modern church believes. Nor can we doubt its spiritual poverty. It is poor in the divine life. This state of things can not last. We are in a condition where faith must fail if love does not come to the rescue. The greatest of all revivals may be at the door. The church wants nothing but vital godliness—experience of divine things. It has so much of zeal, benevolence, self-sacrifice, philanthropy, that we can not so much as hint at despair. Is it possible that some of our philanthropies are too consuming and exhaust us? If we will stop to think and take account of ourselves, we shall probably find that we lack spirituality because we do not want it. That discovery may be the one thing needed to arouse us to strenuous spiritual endeavor.
The fourth century of Shakspere will be remembered either as the century of Shaksperean skepticism or as the one in which the play-actor was stripped of Bacon’s clothes and reduced to his proper condition of play-actor. That we can so much as entertain this latter thought proves that the skepticism has made considerable progress. We do not believe that Bacon wrote the Shaksperean plays; but we are obliged to pay to those who do believe it such respect as is paid to Strauss with his theory that Jesus is a mythical person. Another Shaksperean year is completed on the 23d of April, and its most significant event is an increase of skeptics. We are doubtless to have a thorough sifting of the facts and a large debate. No lover of the great dramas need regret the discussion. It will provoke the study of them and enlarge their fame. They are the great dramas of the world. No others equal them in breadth and fervor. Whatever stimulates the study of them must be useful to the higher forms of literature. One way of looking at the subject of the authorship of these plays is to regard the question as of no absolute importance. The plays are what they are, whoever wrote them; just as the Homeric poetry does not lose a line through the Homeric skepticism. It is an audacious thing to attack Shakspere as a wearer of another man’s clothes, after three centuries of his renown. He lived in the public eye. All London knew him. Some envied and sneered, but none doubted him until some three hundred years after his birth; if there were doubts they were so feeble that nothing came of them. Is it the function of the press and the reporter—making great and small seem alike—which has made Shaksperean skepticism almost respectable, if not entirely so? Whatever be the cause, “the news” spreads that Bacon wrote our Shaksperean works, and the debate is growing into bulk, if not into a serious concernment. We are not a bit touched with the skepticism; it seems to us unreasonable, beyond ordinary measure in unreason; and yet we must recognize the growth of the new theory of the authorship of our glorious drama.
The change next to the foregoing in importance which marks the fourth Shaksperean century is the new way in which the great mass of his admirers come to know and enjoy him. He has passed from the stage to the study, the parlor, the school-room. He is acted a little; he is read a great deal. In his first and second centuries he was known almost exclusively through the stage; in his third, the stage and the book divided about equally the office of making him known; in the fourth, Shaksperean acting has become insignificant in comparison with the general reading and teaching of Shakspere. His works are coming to be studied in all high schools, academies and colleges. Shakspere is in nearly all libraries, be they large or small. One may almost say that he is at home in nearly every house where English is read. There is hardly a town in the country which does not boast at least one well-established “Shakspere Club.” Year after year the members meet weekly to read and talk over the merits of the one writer who never tires them. The scholars of all lands know him in the printed page; all the great tongues have books of criticism in which he occupies a conspicuous place. One view of this transition from the stage to the study and the school is that Shakspere was always too large for the theater. It was in the largest sense impossible to act his plays. All acting narrowed and misrepresented him. The larger field of the book is his proper home. He gains by the liberty and healthfulness of the modern environment. The two changes which we note will bear on each other. Too many persons are coming to know what and how Shakspere wrote to permit any star-chamber of criticism to settle the authorship of these plays in darkness and secrecy; the power to form a judgment is being created in the minds of the great jury whose verdict will probably kill off the Shaksperean skepticism. We do not believe it will survive to 1964, the end of Shakspere’s fourth century.
If it is possible for this nation to become artistic in tastes and habits, we shall not fail. There is no branch of special education more enthusiastically advocated and patronized. Of course the end in view will require more advocacy and more patronage—a great deal more—but we are doing so much that the necessary more will doubtless be done. It should be remembered too, that if blood tells in the matter of art culture we have no lack of blood drawn from the artistic nations. Flemings, Germans, Italians, Spaniards, and even Greeks, come to New York in large numbers; and if Anglo-Saxon blood were condemned as unartistic by inevitable natural incapacity, we should still be able to produce great artists in abundance—if method, zeal, and patronage could do this thing. We will not prophesy; let us wait and see. It is understood, of course, that much, perhaps most of our art, is industrial. We need to educate a large corps of designers for useful goods, which are also ornamental; and this type of artist is so well rewarded when he displays inventive faculty that we are likely to surpass all other peoples in this department of work. It is not easy to separate completely in our thinking this branch of art from that which aims only at artistic pleasure. A design for goods may be perfect art, and satisfy all the requirements of the æsthetic sense. But it is obvious that decorative art is very close to industrial art in nature and purpose. And the purpose has always been condemned by high art, for it looks straight at the sale of the goods at good prices.
It is complained every year in New York, when the art exhibitions come on for criticism, that the pecuniary motive for work, and the avidity of artists for good sales, depress the imagination of the lovers of good work. In substance, then, our trouble as to art—that we are a commercial race—seems to get into the schools and infect their atmosphere. The evil is not that success is rewarded; but that success is not possible to an artist who thinks always of his reward. Art, like religion, requires a spirit of self-renunciation. Success in art is not possible to one who consumes his energy in thinking about the sale of his pictures. To become rich by art one must be first willing to starve to death in the service of art truth. We are not demanding such sacrifices; we are only suggesting that without the spirit of them the pure art of this country will not attain the eminence which our enthusiasm seeks to reach.
“Sordid treatment” of themes is inevitable in the sordid atmosphere which, we are told, is breathed in all our circles of art. Besides, the museums are founded by good natured people who are poor guides and directors and yet must control, because they are patrons. One art journal declares that enough energy has in the last five years been expended in behalf of art to have given it a firm establishment. It adds that most of this energy has been wasted. Art students and art teachers and art institutions and publications multiply, but they do not give us high art. We read this complaint and recall the story of the oil-king in western Pennsylvania who ordered the teacher of his daughter to “buy her a capacity, without regard to expense.” If art comes to us to stay it will come by a slow change of thought, feeling, and aspiration. It is probable that this change has begun; let us hope that it will ripen to a gracious and mellowed maturity. The art-life will find ample room in our hospitable civilization, if it can acquire the courage to live its own life and escape being a parasite on the robust body of our commercial life.
The force of the “Chautauqua Idea” is not abating; on the contrary it works its way into new homes and distant fields—for instance, we have the C. L. S. C. Class of 1888, which commenced to form last July, and now numbers about 20,000 members. The “Florida Chautauqua,” in Florida, is a new plant, and now our C. L. S. C. friends in Canada are raising a fund of $50,000 with which to purchase and furnish grounds near Niagara Falls, for an Assembly after the Chautauqua fashion.
Many prominent Chautauqua workers are at the Florida Chautauqua now in session at Lake de Funiak. Among them are the Rev. Frank Russell, Mrs. G. R. Alden (Pansy), the Rev. A. A. Wright, Dean of the Chautauqua School of Theology, Prof. W. D. Bridge, Prof. W. F. Sherwin, Mrs. Juvia C. Hull, the Rev. S. G. Smith, D.D., the Meigs-Underhill Combination, Prof. C. E. Bolton, Mrs. Emily Huntington Miller, Dr. O. P. Fitzgerald, Prof. R. L. Cumnock, Wallace Bruce, Hon. John N. Stearns, Col. G. W. Bain, Mrs. Emma P. Ewing, Hon. Lewis Miller, etc. Many prominent lecturers, singers and readers as yet not known publicly at Chautauqua, are at this Southern Chautauqua, or on the program for the closing week. Dr. Gillet, in preparing the royal feast of four weeks’ continuance, has subsidized the country generally for his purposes, and all prominent denominations are tributary thereto. Nearly or quite all the departments (save the C. S. L.), known at Chautauqua, are in successful operation. The Assembly already takes high rank in design and desire, and professors, lecturers, readers, singers, helpers, are among the very best. No Assembly in the land starts off with a more brilliant outlook, or with such strong financial backing.
In our December issue we called attention to the effort being made to establish an Assembly in Canada, at Niagara. The plan is developing very satisfactorily. The proposition involves the acquirement from the Dominion Government of the piece of land known as Paradise Grove, containing about eighty acres, situated upon the bank of the Niagara River just outside the town of Niagara. The company which holds the lease has signified its willingness to consent to a transfer. Toronto is also thoroughly aroused to the importance of the movement, so much so that at a very largely attended public meeting called in February to discuss the matter the citizens pledged themselves almost unanimously to give a bonus of ten thousand dollars to the company. In addition to this promises of stock subscriptions have been made of at least as much more. It is easy to see that, if carried out, this project will prove a great boon to the old town. Already a large number of persons on both sides of the line have signified their intention to erect cottages and make it their summer home.
The Chautauqua Circle has just added a new and important branch to the many into which it is already divided. This is an art “circle,” to be called the Chautauqua Society of Fine Arts, in which it is proposed to give lessons in drawing and painting by correspondence. Every branch of art will be taught, from elementary drawing to oil-painting. The plan is a thoroughly practical one, and will be carried out in the best interests of the fine arts. Mr. Frank Fowler has been appointed director, and Messrs. R. Swain Gifford, Thomas Moran and Will H. Low will act as a committee of award. The course of study will extend over two years, at the end of which time diplomas will be given and prizes awarded for the best work in the different classes. The membership fee is fifty cents a year. Application for circulars and further information should be made to Miss K. F. Kimball, Plainfield, N. J.
With the fall of Khartoum, the death of General Gordon, the Irish dynamiteurs and their explosions in London, together with the land troubles in Ireland, a growing dissatisfaction with the Gladstone ministry, and the threatening aspect of Russia, England has enough of perplexing questions on hand to keep her Queen, Ministry and Parliament employed for an indefinite period of time. To be an English politician to-day is to have unrivaled opportunities for strong and vigorous action. Apropos of the Soudan trouble our readers will find the article by Dr. Wheeler, on England and Islam, in this impression, both spirited and profitable reading.
Roller skating is now claiming the attention of, first, physicians, who seem to be divided in their verdict as to the injurious physical effects of the exercise; second, of clergymen and laymen in the churches, who object to the “rink” on account of the associations, quite as much as the doctors do to the skating; third, of economists. In a railroad car bound west recently, we overheard a conversation between two cattle drovers on the “Roller Rink,” one of whom held up a paper named the Rink and Roller, the organ of the new sport. These two men discussed the financial side of “roller skating,” one insisting thus: “A boy will chop wood for seventy-five cents a day, or work at the bench for that amount, and then spend fifty cents in the evening for himself and girl to attend the rink; they keep it up; what’s the good; it is a craze.” Rinks are being built in all our towns and cities, but it will come to an end like every craze. Some will be injured physically—perhaps some will date a moral lapse to an unfortunate acquaintance made in the promiscuous company; while all who go will spend their money. What is the profit?
The venerable Mr. George Bancroft, having passed his eightieth birthday, still preserves his physical vigor and looks like one of the patriarchs of Washington. His mind is active and retains its strength, though now enjoying a much needed respite from literary work. Mr. Bancroft has finished his “History of the United States,” which has been a long and laborious task. Some new historian must appear, who can live in the midst of political changes, and like this great man, preserve an impartial judgment, as a historian, to continue Bancroft’s standard history of the United States.
The closing act of President Arthur’s term of office was one of simple justice to a worthy man. The following note explains it all:
To the Senate of the United States—I nominate Ulysses S. Grant, formerly General Commanding the armies of the United States, to be General on the retired list of the army, with full pay of such rank.
Chester A. Arthur.
Executive Mansion, March 4, 1885.
Congress had passed an act which made it possible that General Grant could be placed on the retired list. The Senate by a unanimous vote confirmed the President’s nomination.
The number of books and periodicals supported on a given subject, is a good sign of its interest to the public. Following this indication we conclude that the public interest in sports and amusements is fully double what it was a year ago. A tabulated statement of the publications of 1884, compared with the books issued in 1883, gives the works on sports in the two years as twenty-two in 1883 to fifty-one in 1884. This suggestive comparison is but one of many signs that we are awakening to the absolute necessity of healthful exercise, if we would lead useful lives ourselves, and would propagate a sturdy race.
Every summer many ladies and gentlemen engaged in educational work make a vacation tour to the Old World. Those having such intentions for the coming summer will perhaps accept a few words of advice. In order to economize your time and derive the full benefit of your trip abroad, the best thing to be done is to join a party, the management of which is in the hands of an experienced traveler. The question naturally arises, Where is there a party formed in which we will find most advantages for the money expended? We do not hesitate in saying that we can recommend no better than Professor de Potter’s parties, organized each year in Albany, New York, and which have the reputation of being ably conducted.
There is going on in the newspapers just now a very suggestive contest over the spelling of a word. Shall it be dynamiteur or ter? Both forms have reliable followings, though no reasons have been advanced for either termination. The word is a good example of several interesting features of word-making. It illustrates how each new development in history requires a vocabulary, and how the vocabulary is formed from the facts involved. Further, the difference in the termination shows how each word must have its period of instability before usage selects the form which shall be permanent. This Irish agitation has, by the way, introduced several new words into the language.
We Americans believe very firmly in ourselves. But sometimes we can not help wondering if this vigorous, athletic government of ours, and these growing institutions, seem to others a success. It will be gratifying to read Mr. Matthew Arnold’s opinion of us: “A people homogeneous, a people which had to constitute itself in a modern age, an epoch of expansion, and which has given to itself institutions entirely fitted for such an age and epoch, and which suit it perfectly—a people not in danger of war from without, not in danger of revolution from within—such is the people of the United States. The political and social problem we must surely allow that they solve successfully.”
Last year women were for the first time admitted to the Oxford University examinations. Since they have been allowed to hear certain college lectures, and are now finally admitted to the classes. It is a surprising concession, but it is the course of the future. Women in England have proven conclusively their ability to cope with university studies. They have zealously and quietly improved each added liberty. This last recognition comes as the inevitable effect of a law which works through all human affairs, viz.: a demand creates a supply.
President Arthur closed his term of service with the confidence and respect of the American people. He performed the difficult task of filling the highest office in the government with prudence and ability, when, in fact, he was not the choice of the people for the place, but it fell to his lot in the order of a mysterious providence. Among the Vice Presidents who have succeeded to the presidency Chester A. Arthur will be honored in history as a wise statesman, faithful to the people whom he served. President Cleveland’s administration is the dawn of a new political era in the country, but we believe that he will make a safe President.
There has been recently organized in New York State a State Forestry Association. President White, of Cornell University, has accepted the presidency. The society proposes to make a vigorous effort to arouse the people to the necessity of laws which shall preserve their forests from the lawless destruction which has robbed thousands upon thousands of acres in the Adirondacks of their wealth of timber. Such a society is, without doubt, the only means by which a proper sentiment can be aroused. The cause of the wholesale depredations has been lack of thought. As one of the lumbermen put it: “It all comes to this—it was because there was nobody to think about it, or do anything about it. We were all busy, and all to blame. But I could do nothing alone, and my neighbor could do nothing alone, and there was nobody to set us to work together on a plan to have things better; nobody to represent the common object. Why did not you come along to talk to us about it years and years ago?”
A look through a railroad guide shows a list of names which are a sad criticism on our refinement. Think of going down to posterity as born in such a place as You Bet, Red Hot, Fair Play, Muddy Creek, Looking Glass, Lone Star, or Saw Tooth. These undignified, ill-sounding names are very common, and in the new portion of the country it seems to be a matter of pride to invent absurd names. A gentleman who had the misfortune to reside in a town which bore one of these unmelodious names recently said to us: “I am actually ashamed to register myself when traveling, as from ‘Goose Creek,’ and for years I have had my mail sent to a town three miles away rather than endure the sight of that odious name on my letters.” There are ways of changing these names, and in the interest of good taste it should be done.
In spite of the difficulties in his way, the Rev. Sheldon Jackson has succeeded in getting into his Industrial Training School for Indian Boys and Girls at Sitka, Alaska. Not the least of these difficulties has been getting lumber for the building. Here is the story as he writes us: “Since coming here last August, I sent a crew of three Indians in a canoe a round trip of 400 miles along the coast, with a letter to a saw mill. The trees were felled, the logs were sawed up, a schooner chartered to bring the lumber, and in due time 100,000 feet of lumber was rafted from the schooner on the beach, through the surf, carried on men’s shoulders to the building site, a three story building 130x50 feet in size erected, and so far completed that we were able to move into it the first week in January. I have also in the same time organized a church of seventy members, of whom sixty are natives, received on confession of faith and baptism. These converts are largely the fruit of the work of Mr. Austin, one of our teachers.”
The Rev. H. M. Bacon, D.D., pastor of the Central Congregational Church, Toledo, Ohio, in a recent article on “Our English Tongue,” in which he quotes Richard Grant White’s statement in The Chautauquan for December, that “This modern English, which is the youngest, is also the greatest language ever spoken,” mentions several valuable confirmations of this opinion. Among them is the tribute of Jacob Grimm, the learned German lexicographer, who says: “In wealth, good sense, and closeness of structure, no other language at this day spoken, not even our German, deserves to be compared to it” (the English). He also calls attention to similar opinions expressed by the late Baron Humboldt, and by Guizot, and recalls the fact that once when the Academy of Berlin offered a prize for the best essay on a comparison of fourteen of the ancient and modern tongues, the prize was awarded to a writer who had given the first place to the English.
On the 23d of February the Washington Monument was formally dedicated at Washington, D. C. Thirty-six years have elapsed since its corner stone was laid. Of the Senate which attended the ceremonies on that occasion but nine are still living, and since that date the most trying years of our national life have been passed. Though the delays in completing the work have been annoying, now that it is complete, it is gratifying to know that the monument is in every way worthy of its object. Indeed, we have no hesitancy in pronouncing it the most beautiful structure in the nation’s capital. An obelisk of light gray stone, at a distance it looks like a clearly defined cloud lying against the sky. Its great height (555 feet) is not realized, so perfect is the proportion. The location of the monument has been criticised. It stands on a Government reservation, adjacent to the Potomac River, and directly facing the Capitol. The land is low, and many believe it was a serious mistake not to have placed the obelisk on Capitol Hill. We can not agree with them. The advantage of having the monument on public grounds, where the view of the entire shaft will never be obstructed, is much greater than a higher location with an obstructed view would have been. Then, too, this site was one approved by Washington himself for a monument which, in 1783, the Continental Congress voted to be erected to him. Of course “going to the top” is, and will be, one of the chief features of sight seeing in Washington. Every half hour the steam elevator in the monument carries a crowded load to the top, allowing them ten minutes for looking around before the descent. The stairway is not yet open to the public, and even if it were most people would hesitate before undertaking to mount its 900 steps. The interior of the shaft is lighted by incandescent electric lights. Not the least interesting feature of the monument is the number of marble tablets presented by different states and institutions, and which are being inserted in the inside walls. Several of these have considerable artistic and historic value.
There is so much reading on the Reformation, and it is so well known and easily accessible that it seems almost unnecessary to give a list of supplementary readings. But among so many books it is hard to choose, so we append the names of a few, thinking we may perhaps help some to decide what to read. In order to enjoy this little “History of the Reformation” in the required course, one ought to read many larger ones. “History of the Reformation.” By G. P. Fisher. $3.00; D’Aubigne’s “History of the Reformation;” Burnet’s “Reformation in England;” “History of the Christian Church.” By W. W. Blackburn. $2.50; Motley’s “Rise of the Dutch Republic.” $6.00; “Protestantism.” By De Quincy. “Short Studies.” By J. A. Froude. “History of the Rise of the Huguenots.” By Henry M. Baird. $3.50; “John Knox.” By Thomas McCrie. $2.00; “Martin Luther and his Work.” By J. H. Treadwell. $1.00; “The Massacre of St. Bartholomew.” By Henry White. $1.75; “Schönberg-Cotta Family.” By Mrs. Charles. $1.00; “The Martyrs of Spain.” By Mrs. Charles. $1.00; “Savonarola.” By W. R. Clarke. $1.50; “Romola.” By George Eliot. (Treats of the times of Savonarola); “Christians and Moors of Spain.” By Miss Yonge. $1.25.
P. 3.—“Council of Constance.” A council of the Roman Catholic Church, opened in 1414, and closed in 1418. In its earlier sessions the doctrines of Wycliffe were examined and condemned. John Huss was also condemned and executed, as was Jerome, of Prague. The council was called to consider measures to remedy the division arising in the church from the long residence of the popes at Avignon, and the consequent desire on the part of the French for a national church. See page 89 in the “Short History.”
“Julian, the Apostate.” (331-363.) A Roman emperor, the nephew of Constantine the Great. Immediately upon his accession he openly avowed his abandonment of Christianity, but he published an edict which granted perfect liberty to all sects and all religions. He, however, excluded Christians from civil and military offices, and compelled them to contribute toward sustaining pagan temples. He permitted the Jews to rebuild their temple at Jerusalem, and published a large volume against Christianity.
P. 4.—“Medici,” māˈde-che. A distinguished Florentine family appearing in history since the close of the thirteenth century.
P. 5.—“d’Ailly,” dāˈye; “John Chartier Gerson,” shär-te-ā zhair-soⁿᵍ.
P. 6.—“Nicholas Clémanges,” clā-manj; “Gallican Church.” The name given to the Catholic Church in France.
“Father Hyacinthe.” Charles Loyson, a French pulpit orator, born in 1827. At the age of twenty-two he was ordained a priest. He was highly educated. Suspicions as to his doctrines were awakened, and he was summoned to appear before the pope, but cleared himself. Shortly after some speeches of his gave offense, and he was ordered to change his manner or be quiet, but he paid no heed. He was soon forbidden to preach, and threatened with excommunication. In 1869 he visited America, where he was warmly welcomed by many Protestants, but he declared he had no intention of leaving the Catholic Church. He protested against the doctrine of the pope’s infallibility, and defended the right of the clergy to marry. In 1870, on his return to France, the pope relieved him of his monastic vows, and he became a secular priest. In 1872 he was married to an American lady. He is now pastor of a church in Paris, a sort of independent Catholic church.
P. 7.—“Huguenots,” hūˈgē-nots. The name applied to the French Reformers. Its origin is uncertain, some asserting that it was derived from one of the gates of the city of Tours, named Hugons, where the Protestants held their first assemblies. Others say it came from the name of their first leader, Hugues.
P. 8.—“Dominican Order.” An order founded by St. Dominic, in 1216; “John Ruysbroek,” roisˈbrek.
P. 12.—“Wittenberg,” vitˈten-bairg. A town in Prussia, in which there is an immense bronze statue of Luther, and not far from it one of Melancthon. It is the seat of a great university.
“St. Victor.” A monastery in Paris.
P. 13.—“Origen.” (185-253.) One of the fathers of the church, noted for his unwearied diligence and life of self-denial. For two years, during the persecution under Maximin, he lay concealed in a friend’s house, and here wrote his “Hexapla.” In the Decian persecution he was imprisoned and subjected to extreme torture. Many of his valuable writings have been lost.
“Alexandrian school.” A name applied to the philosophers of Alexandria in the second century. It aimed to harmonize all philosophy and all religion.
P. 14.—“Thomas à Kempis. (1379-1471.) A German writer, a prior in the monastery of Mount St. Agnes.
“Kaisersheim,” kīˈzers-hīmeˌ; “Rheinfeld,” rīneˈfelt; “Pfaffenheim,” päfˈfen-hime.
P. 17.—“Boccaccio,” bok-katˈcho. (1313-1375.) An Italian novelist, and friend of Petrarch; “Chrysoloras,” kris-o-loˈras.
P. 18.—“Pa-læ-olˈo-gus;” “Bes-sāˈri-on.”
P. 19.—“Argyropylus,” ar-ghe-ropˈoo-los; “Lasˈca-ris;” “Chalkondylas,” kal-konˈde-las; “Gemistus Pletho,” je-misˈtus pleˈtho; “Moschopylus,” mos-kopˈy-lus; “Gasperinus,” gäs-pä-reeˈnus; “Aurispa,” ow-rēsˈpä; “Poggius,” pojˈus; “Perothes,” perˈō-tēs; “Politianus,” po-lishˈā-nus.
P. 20.—“Hierarch.” One who rules or has authority in sacred things.
P. 21.—“Vulgate Bible.” One of the oldest Latin versions of the Scriptures. So called from its common use in the church. The Catholic Church claims this to be the only authentic translation.
“Guizot,” gēˌzōˈ. (1787-1874.) A French historian.
“Reuchlin,” roikˈlin. (1455-1522.)
P. 23.—“Bordeaux,” bor-dōˈ; “Avignon,” ă-vē-nyoⁿᵍ.
P. 27.—“Eisleben,” iceˈla-ben.
P. 28.—“Eisenach,” īˈzen-näk.
P. 30.—“Scala Santa,” sacred staircase. A staircase in the church and palace of the Lateran, so called because Christ was said to have ascended and descended it. This magnificent building was used as the residence of the popes, from 312 till their removal to Avignon in 1309. The staircase, according to tradition, belonged to the house of Pilate, and was brought to Rome by the mother of Constantine. It is composed of twenty-eight marble steps, which have been covered by order of the popes with a casing of wood. The wood has several times had to be replaced, having been worn through by the knees of ascending pilgrims. This staircase was preserved from the fire which destroyed the building in 1308. The Lateran was rebuilt, to be again burned in 1360. It was restored in 1364, and completely modernized in 1559. This church has always been the cathedral of the bishops of Rome, and takes precedence of all other churches in the Catholic world.
P. 32.—“Schlosskirche,” schlusˈkeer-ka. The church belonging to a castle; “Mos-celˈla-nus.”
P. 33.—“Bull.” An edict of the pope, sent to the churches over which he is head, containing some decree or decision.
“Hapsburg.” Originally a castle in Switzerland. It gave its name to the imperial house of Austria.
P. 35.—“Frederick the Wise.” Frederick III., elector of Saxony.
P. 37.—“Zwickaw,” tswikˈkow. A city in Saxony.
P. 43.—“Augsburg Confession.” The first Protestant confession of faith.
“Convention at Smalcald,” smälˈkält. A confederation of the Protestants held in 1531, in which they were secretly aided by England and France.
P. 45.—“Melancthon,” me-lankˈthon; “Pforzheim,” pfortsˈhime; “Tüˈbing-en;” “Œcolampadius,” ĕkˌo-lăm-pāˈdĭ-us.
“Terence.” (B. C. 195-159.) A Roman comic poet.
P. 50.—“Ulrich von Hutten,” oolˈrik fon hootˈen; “Si-kingˈen;” “Cranach,” kräˈnäk.
P. 51.—“Zwingle,” tswinˈgle.
P. 52.—“Wittenbach,” vitˈten-bäk; “Glarus,” gläˈroos. A canton of Switzerland; “Einsiedeln,” īneˈze-deln.
P. 53.—“Mariolatry,” mā-rí-olˈa-try. The worship of the Virgin Mary.
P. 54.—“Helvetic Confession.” This differed materially from the Lutheran only in holding that Christ was not bodily present in the eucharist.
P. 57.—“Viret,” vē-rā; “Froment,” frō-moⁿᵍ; “Farel,” fä-rel.
P. 58.—“Bourges,” boorzh; “Angoulême,” aⁿᵍ-goo-laim.
“Psychopannychia,” sī-kō-pan-nikˈi-a.
P. 59.—“Tillet,” til-lā; “Martianus Lucanius,” mar-she-āˈnus lu-caˈni-us; “Courault,” coo-rō.
P. 61.—“Neuenburg,” noiˈen-boorg. A town in Germany.
P. 62.—“Bucer,” booˈtser. (1491-1551.)
P. 64.—“Lausanne,” lō-zanˈ.
P. 66.—“Archbishop of Canterbury.” This archbishop is the primate or ruling officer in the national Church of England, the first peer of the realm, and member of the privy council. It is he who places the crown upon the king.
P. 67.—“Lambeth Palace.” The town residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury. It stands on the Thames River, and is surrounded by gardens twelve acres in extent.
P. 68.—“Ochino,” o-kīˈno; “Fagius,” fäˈge-ŏos; “Anne Boleyn,” ann bulˈlen.
P. 72.—“Froschover,” froshˈo-vair.
P. 78.—“Act of Uniformity.” An act enforcing observance of the English Church service. Severe penalties were enforced against any one who should conduct religious service in any other way than that prescribed by the Book of Common Prayer.
P. 80.—“Cardinal Beatoun,” bēˈtun. Usually written Beaton. (1494-1546.) A persecutor of the Protestants. On the death of King James, he conceived the idea of seizing the government, and forged a will of the king’s, naming himself as successor, but he was prevented from carrying out his plan and was imprisoned for a time. He was shortly afterward reëstablished in his ecclesiastical administration. His enemies seeing no release from his terrible persecutions put him to death.
P. 84.—“Gerard Groot,” jĕ-rardˈ grōt; “Florentius Radewin,” flo-ronˈshe-us räˈde-win; “Herzogenbusch,” hairts-ōˈgen-boosh.
P. 85.—“Yuste,” yoosˈtā.
“Inquisition.” This was a court established for the purpose of examining and punishing heretics.
P. 87.—Luther’s doctrine concerning the will was that it has no “positive ability in the work of salvation, but has the negative ability of ceasing its resistance under the general influence of the Spirit in the Word and Sacraments.”
P. 88.—“Momus.” In Greek mythology the god of mockery and censure. He is represented as raising a mask from his face.
P. 89.—“Vaudois,” vo-dwä.
P. 90.—“Sorbonne,” sor-bun. A school of theology in Paris, founded in 1253, by Robert de Sorbonne, whence its name. The members were divided into fellows and commoners. The former were selected for their eminent learning, and took the position of teachers. The commoners were chosen from among those receiving instruction, after a severe ordeal, and were supported by the college, but had no voice in its government. They ceased to be members when they graduated as doctors. No member of any religious body was allowed to enter this order. The large lecture halls of the institution were opened free of all charges, to all poor students, and the professors were directed never to refuse instruction to such. Students who had money were required to pay regular fees. The school was without a rival all through the Middle Ages. Its controlling power was felt everywhere. It was frequently appealed to in disputes between the civil power and the papacy. It opposed the claims of Henry VIII. for a divorce from Catharine; condemned the doctrines of Luther and other reformers, and declared that Henry III. had forfeited his crown. It was suppressed in 1789, and its buildings are now used by the University of France.
“Meaux,” mō; “Angers,” âⁿᵍ-zhā; “Poictiers,” pwä-tyā.
P. 91.—“Gallic Confession.” This was essentially Calvinistic in its import, as were also the system of government and method of discipline adopted. They were, however, modified somewhat, to suit a church—not like that at Geneva, in union with the state, but antagonistic to it.
“Bourbons.” This line of kings in France began with Henry IV. Six of his descendants in direct line occupied the throne after him. The Louises XIII., XIV., XV., XVI., XVIII., and Charles X. The last representative of this line was the Count de Chambord, who died in 1883. There is a younger branch known as the Orleans branch.
“Guises,” gheez. A branch of the ducal family of Loraine, which took a prominent part in the civil and religious wars in France.
P. 95.—“Sä-vo-nä-roˈlä,” “Brescia,” brāˈsha.
P. 98.—“Chardon de la Rocette,” shar-doⁿᵍ dĕ lä rŏh-shĕt; “Brucioli,” broo-choˈlee; “Marmochini,” mar-mo-keeˈnee; “Teofilo,” tā-o-feeˈlo.
P. 99.—“Mauricha,” mä-rēˈka; “Della Rovere,” delˈlä rō-vāˈrā; “Cherbina,” sher-beeˈna; “Gonzago,” gon-zäˈgō; “Ca-rafˈfa;” “Paschali,” pas-caˈlēe.
P. 100.—“Paolo di Colli,” pä-oˈlo dē colˈlee; “Gratarole,” grät-ä-rōˈlee; “Cor-räˈdo;” “Teglio,” täˈglē-o.
P. 103.—“Vives,” vēˈvace; “Ponce de la Fuente,” pōnˈthā dā lā fwenˈtā; “Enzinas,” en-zēˈnas; “Valladolid,” väl-yä-dō-leedˈ; “Varelo,” vä-rāˈlo; “Ægidius,” ē-gidˈē-us.
P. 104.—“Hernandez,” her-nanˈdā; “Boborguez,” bō-borˈgā.
P. 110.—“Cyriace,” si-rēˈä-see.
P. 116.—“Dollinger,” dolˈling-er. A learned Catholic theologian, born at Bamberg, in 1799. He has published a church history, and several other works.
P. 169.—The formula (N₂O₂) shows that two atoms of nitrogen have united with two atoms of oxygen to form a molecule of nitrogen di-oxide. The formula Cu (NO₃)₂ shows that one atom of copper has united with two molecules, each composed of one atom of nitrogen and three atoms of oxygen, to form one molecule of cupric nitrate. In like manner Fe₂ (NO₃)₆ indicates that two atoms of iron have united with six molecules, each composed of one atom of nitrogen and three atoms of oxygen, to form one molecule of ferric nitrate.
P. 173.—“Refractive power” of water. When a ray of light strikes the surface of a new medium, a portion of it is turned out of its original course or refracted. This gives rise to some well-known effects. When any object is placed in water and viewed obliquely it looks to be nearer the surface than it is, because the light in passing from the denser medium takes a direction more inclined to the horizontal, and an object always appears directly in line with the ray of light entering the eye.
P. 178.—“Crécy,” kresˈse. This battle took place August 26, 1346, between the English under Edward III. and the French under Philip VI. It is said that Edward had six pieces of artillery. Artillery had probably not been used in the field before this time.
P. 182.—“Trinˌi-tro-cĕlˈlu-lose.”
P. 185.—“Mont Cenis,” mōⁿᵍ sŭh-nē. This tunnel under the Alps is in reality some sixteen miles from Mont Cenis, whose name it bears. The first mine was fired in 1857, and for four years the piercing was done by hand; the need of a quicker method led to the invention of a machine drill—a perforating machine worked by compressed air. The work was carried on by day and night, from both sides of the mountains, until the two bodies of workmen met, December 26, 1870. The tunnel was opened for railway travel September 17, 1871. Its length is nearly eight miles, and the cost of the tunnel was $15,000,000.
“St. Gotˈhard.” This tunnel is also through the Alps. The length is nine and one fourth miles. Its construction was begun in 1872, and it was completed in eight years.
P. 189.—“Phosphorus ne-croˈsis.” The latter term is derived from a Greek word, meaning to make dead, to mortify, and is a disease which attacks bony tissues, as gangrene effects the soft parts. “The acid fumes thrown off from phosphorus in the various processes of making matches, frequently cause among the people employed a terrible disease, which attacks the teeth and jaws.… Its natural course is to rot the entire jaw bone away.”
P. 190.—“Al-lŏtˈro-pĭsm.” Dana says allotropism is “the property of existing in two or more conditions which are distinct in their physical or chemical relations. Thus, carbon occurs crystallized in octahedron, and other related forms, in a state of extreme hardness, in the diamond; it occurs in hexagonal forms, and of little hardness, in black lead; and again occurs in a third form, with entire softness, in lamp-black and charcoal. In some cases one of these is peculiarly an active state, and the others a passive one. Thus, ozone is an active state of oxygen, and is distinct from ordinary oxygen, which is the element in its passive state.”
P. 194.—“Chemicking,” kemˈik-ing.
P. 203.—Translation of French sentence: “This last virtue I believe it still to possess, if the husband is rich enough to buy the jewel which his wife is ambitious to own.”
P. 217.—“Boussingault,” booˌsănˈgoˌ; Jean Baptiste. A noted French chemist of this century.
1. “Schoolmen.” Philosophers and divines who in the middle ages adopted the principles of Aristotle and dwelt much upon abstract speculation. Scholasticism was a philosophy of dogmas. “Its elements were doctrines which the authority of the church made indisputable,” and which were looked upon as absolute truth. Facts in nature were set aside and an artificial, logical scheme developed. Scholiasts thought experiment only fit to follow and illustrate theories.
2. “Haroun-al-Raschid,” Aaron the Just. (765-809.) The caliph who raised Bagdad to its greatest splendor, and whose reign was looked upon as the golden era of the Mohammedan nation. He reigned twenty-three years and performed the pilgrimage to Mecca nine times. He is famous as the hero of the Arabian tales. Tennyson wrote of him in his “Recollections of Arabian Nights.”
3. “Ex post facto.” A Latin expression, meaning an after act or thing done afterward. An ex post facto law is a law enacted after the commission of a crime, for the purpose of being enforced upon the person having committed the crime, who could not be held a criminal, or at least a criminal in the same degree, until after the enaction of the law. All such laws are forbidden by the constitution of the United States.
4. Transcriber’s Note: This note (presumably “Hypolais.”) was omitted in the original. Hippolais is a scientific genus of tree warblers.
[Errata.—A few typographical errors in articles of this series have escaped correction. Page 254, change “300,000,000” to 3,000,000; for “alcohol,” thirty-third line, page 325, substitute paraffine; same page, eighth line, second column, use not for “but;” in “experiment,” same column, use heat for “sensation,” and in next to the last line of the article change “topics” to optics.—Prof. J. T. Edwards.]
1. “Geysers,” gīˈsers. Intermittent hot springs, found in different parts of the world. Those of Iceland are the best known. More than one hundred of these springs are there found, within a space of two miles. The geysers of the Yellowstone are the most wonderful ever discovered. The country lying between latitude 43° and 47° north, and longitude 110° and 114° west, is dotted with groups of springs. Some of them, when in action, send up columns of water to a height of 200 feet.
2. “Hugh Miller.” (1802-1856.) A British geologist. He was by trade a stone mason, but he devoted all his leisure hours to study. Soon “detecting the wonders of the fossil world” in the quarries in which he worked, he made them the special subject of his thought, and soon became an eminent geologist. He published many works, most of them bearing on this subject. He worked so incessantly, taking little sleep or exercise, that his mind was on the verge of giving way. Realizing this with terror, he took his own life. A note left for his wife read as follows: “A fearful dream rises upon me. I can not bear the horrible thought.”
The old red sandstone is the name given to the rock in Great Britain formed in the Devonian age, or age of fishes. Its thickness is in some parts 8,000 to 10,000 feet. It includes sandstone, marlytes of red and other colors, and some limestone.
The sandstone of the Triassic period, which includes the latest formations of the earth’s crust, is also characterized by fossils, and is often red in color; hence the name, new red sandstone, has been applied to it.
3. “Dr. Hitchcock.” (1793-1864.) An American geologist and author.
4. “Minute animals.” The carbonate of lime which is found in rocks is most of it formed directly of shells, corals, and other animal remains. These little creatures take their stony-like structures from the water or from their food through the power of secretion, just as man forms his bones, and after their death they are given over to be made into rocks. The great extent and thickness of the limestone rocks of the earth give some idea of the amount of life that flourished there in past time.
5. “Anhydride.” For definition see “Chemistry,” page 151.
6. “Old Stone Mill.” It is asserted by some antiquaries that this structure was built by the Northmen, 500 years before Columbus landed on these shores. Its purpose, as well as its origin, has been a theme of much discussion. Its present appearance is that of a large round tower overgrown with vines.
7. “The Stone age.” One of the divisions of prehistoric time. In this age men were not acquainted with the use of metal and fashioned their rude implements exclusively out of stone.
8. “Ceramic,” se-ramˈic.
9. “Cesnola collection.” Cesnola was an American soldier and archæological explorer, born in Italy in 1832. He served in the Crimean war, and in the civil war, was for a long time in Libby Prison. At the close of the war he was sent as consul to Cyprus. Having his attention attracted by some fragments of terra cotta and some coins, he began making excavations in search of relics. He met with such rewards that he continued his work for three years, employing hundreds of men. Among his discoveries were statues, lamps, vases, coins, glassware, gold ornaments, bronzes, and inscriptions, in all about 13,000 articles. This remarkable collection is now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
10. “The mound builders.” The race of people found in America by its first settlers had clearly been preceded by a race of higher type and attainments. Relics proving this have been discovered throughout the Mississippi valley. Earthworks are their principal testimony, of which many thousands have been found in Ohio alone. These mounds vary in size and shape, but are always regularly formed, sometimes being square, sometimes round, hexagonal, octagonal, or truncated. They are ascended by spiral paths, and frequently contain skeletons. Sometimes the earthworks are thrown up so as to represent in outline men and animals, and appear as huge “bas-reliefs on the surface of the ground.”
11. “Humboldt,” Baron von. (1769-1859.) A German naturalist, the most distinguished scholar of the nineteenth century. After a thorough education, under the best masters in different universities, he determined to devote himself to finance as a business, and familiarized himself with everything pertaining to this calling. He changed his career and wished to engage in practical mining. And again he went through with a full preparation for this work. He was sent to explore several mining districts, and made many experiments to discover the nature of fire-damp. Later he made a great scientific expedition which only led the way to others, until he had visited as a scientist almost every land. He is distinguished for the comprehensiveness of his researches. During his travels he made astronomical, botanical and magnetic researches, measured elevations, investigated the nature of the soil, and the thermometrical relations; he also collected herbariums, and founded the new science of the geography of plants. Of his numerous published works, “Kosmos” has perhaps attracted public attention most widely. It has been without an equal in giving an impulse to natural studies.
12. “Lord Lytton,” Sir Edward George. Earle Lytton, son of General William Earle Bulwer, born in 1805. Upon his succeeding to the vast estates of his mother, the heiress of the Lyttons, he by royal license assumed this name, writing it after his own. He is the author of several works, mostly of fiction.
1. “Syllogism.” Every argument, to be valid, must be placed in regular logical form, which consists of three propositions, two called the premises, and the third the conclusion. The conclusion follows from the premises, so that if the former are true, the conclusion must be. For example: Major premise—It was not lawful to scourge a Roman citizen; minor premise—Paul was a Roman citizen; conclusion—Therefore, it was not lawful to scourge Paul.
2. “Dr. Porter.” An American scholar and author, born in 1811. The eleventh president of Yale College.
3. “Ruskin,” John. (1819-—.) An English author. He has given much attention to the study of art, many of his numerous books being written on that subject.
4. “Utopia.” See The Chautauquan for February, 1885.
5. “Campanella.” (1568-1639.) An Italian philosopher. He was suspected of joining a conspiracy against the Spanish government, was put to the rack, and finally imprisoned in Spain. Later he was transferred to the inquisition at Rome. On gaining his liberty he went to France. He was famous for undermining other systems of philosophy rather than for establishing one of his own.
6. “Owen,” Robert. (1771-1858.) An English social reformer. He lived for a few years in Scotland, where he advocated his theory of communism, an absolute equality in all rights and duties. By the aid of his large fortune he was enabled to distribute great numbers of tracts explaining his views, and these soon won him a large following. He was, however, opposed and attacked on all sides. In 1823 he came to the United States, bought 20,000 acres of land in Indiana, intending to found his community there, but the scheme proved a failure and he returned to England. He spent the rest of his life as a traveler, advocating his views both by his books and public lecturing.
7. “Fourier,” (foo-ri-ā) Charles. (1772-1837.) A French writer on social science.
1. “Thebes and Luxor.” Thebes was a celebrated Egyptian city, formerly the capital of Upper Egypt. Its ruins are among the most magnificent in the world, and comprise what form now nine villages, among which Luxor is one. The large and costly palaces of the Luxor quarter were founded by Amenophis III., and from here was taken the obelisk which stands in Place de la Concorde in Paris.
2. “Archbishop Whately.” (1787-1863.) An English prelate. He was for some years a professor at Oxford, and in 1831 was consecrated archbishop of Dublin. He was the author of many important works.
3. “Paˌlæ-o-cosˈmic.” Pertaining to the ancient universe.
4. “Old Man of Cromagnon.” “In the Reliquiæ Aquitanicæ, by Messrs. Lartet and Christy, there is a full account of the archæology of the old Stone age, as exhibited in the south of France, especially in the caves in the valley of Cro-Magnon. … Bones of the reindeer are abundant, and the co-existence of man with this animal in latitudes so much lower than its present habitat implies a certain degree of elevation above savages, as not only food, clothing and implements, but materials for ornamentation were obtained from it. The domestic economy of these earlier races is shown by their hearths, boiling stones, rough hammers, and hollow, dish-like pebbles. … M. Pruner-Bey, from the examination of skeletons found in the cave of Cro-Magnon maintains that the crania of the reindeer age belong to a double series, one approaching the Lapp and the other the Finn of the present day. He concludes that they had massive bones, long, flat feet, comparatively short arms and long forearms, with powerful muscles, greatly developed jaws, widely opened nostrils, and were of unbridled passions.”