THlr PITTSBURG DISPATCH;
"!
T
THIRD PART.
PAGES 17 T0-20r
SAILING II m SOUTH SHL
Robert Louis Stevenson
"With the
THEY TOOK HIS SCHOONER YACHT BY STORM.
Delighted With the Pretty Ship,
of Polite
The Dalm and Eeanty of the Tacillc Isles Have Completely Captured the Popular Author
and He W ill Lire and Die Anions Them. Sensation of the First Glimpse of Land
Jlfter the Lonj Voyaje---Dijqnisition on the Polynesian Character Facility With
Which the Satives Learn Enjlish Some Points of Etiquette That Came Near
Hating Trouble for the VisitorsThe Dwellings of the Various Trifles--The
Farewells.
'COEKtsrOXDEXCE OF TEE DISPATCH. 1
Off Astaho, Marquesas -Islands,
Aug. 2S, 1890. For nearly tea jears my
health has beca declining; and for some
while before I set forth upon my voyage I
believed I was come to the afterpiece of life,
md hadoalrthe nurse and undertaker to
suspect. It was suggested that I should try
ilie South Seas, and I was not unwilling to
visit like a ghost, and be carried lice a babe,
among scenes that had attracted me in youth
ind health.
I chartered accordingly Dr. Merrit's
chooser vacht, the Casco, T4 tons register;
i.ied from San Francisco toward the end of
June, 1SS3, visited the Eastern Islands and
as lelt early the next year at Honolulu.
Hence, lacking courage to return to my old
lileof the house and sick room, I set forth
to leeward in a trading schooner, the Equa
'nr. of a little over 70 tons, spent Tour
months among the atolls ot the Gilbert
croup, and reached Samoa toward the close
oi lhv'J Bv that time gratitude and habit
ueie beginning to attach me to the islands;
1 li .d g uued a competency of strength, 1
had made friends, 1 had learned new inter
sis the time of my voyage ftad passed like
das in fairyland, and I decided to remain.
It more davs are granted me, they shall
he passed where I have found lile most
pleasant and man most interesting. The
axes of mv black boys are already clearing
the foundations cf my future house, and I
must learn to address readers from the utter
most parts of the sea.
That I should have thus reversed the ver
dict of Lord Tennyson's hero is less eccen
tric than appears. Few men who come to
the islands leave them; they grow gray
where they alignted, the palm shades and
the trade wind fans them till they die, per
haps cherishing to the last the fancy of a
visit home, "which is rarely made, more
rarely enjoyed, and yet more rarely repeated.
No part ot the world exerts the same attract
ive power upon the visitor, and the task be
fore me is to communicate to fireside travel
ers some sense of its seduction, and describe
the life, at sea and ashore, ot many hundred
t lousand persons, some of our own blood and
language, all our cotemporanes, and yet as
remote in thought and habit as lion Roy or
Barbarossa, the Apostles or the Caesars.
The first experience can never be repeated.
The first love, the first sunrise, the first
South Sea island are memories apart and
touched a virginity of sense. On the 28th
of July, 1888, the moon was an hour down
by 4 in tne morning. In the east a radiat
ing center of brightness told of the day; and
beneath, on the sky line, the morning bank
was alreadi building, black as ink. "We
have all read of the swiftness of the day's
coming and departure in low latitudes; it is
a point on which the scientific and the sen-
OFF THE COAST
timental tourists are at one, and has in
spired some tasteful poetry. The period
certainlv vanes with the season; but here is
one case exactly noted. Although the dawn
was thus preparing bv 4, the sun was not up
till 6 and it was 5:30 before we could dis
tinguish our expected islands from the
clouds on the horizon. Eight degrees south,
and the dav two hours a-commg.
The interval was passed on deck in the si
lence of expectation, the customary thrill
of landfall heightened by the strangeness of
the shores that we were then approaching.
Slowly they took snape in the attenuating
darkness. TJa-huna, piling up to a trun
cated summit, appeared the first upon the
starboard bow; almost abeam arose our des
tination, Nuka-hiva, whelmed in cloud; and
betwixt and to the southward the first rays
the sun displayed the needles of Ua-pu,
These pricked about the line of the horizon;
A European Hestdenec
like the pinnacles of some ornate 'and mon
strous church they stood there in the spark
ling brightness of the morning, the fit sign
board ol a world of wonders.
Not one soul aboard the Casco had set foot
upon the islands, or knew, except by acci
dent, one word of any of the island tongues;
and it was with something, perhaps, of the
same anxious pleasure as thrilled the bosom
of discoverers that we drew near these prob
lematic shores.
"Winged by her own impetus and the
dying breeze, the Casco skimmed under
cliffs, opened ont a cove, showed us a beach
and some green trees, and flitted by again,
bowing to the swell. The tree, from our
distance, might have been hazel; the beach
might have been in Europe; the mountain
forms behind modeled in little from the
Alps, and the forest which clustered on
their ramparts a growth no more considera
ble than our Scottish heath. Again the
r - - ii 1 1 in
sjSpeLAeP"!
Describes His First Day
Marquesans.
but Scarcely Up to the Usages
Societv.
cliff yawned, bat now with a deeper entry;
and the Casco, hauling her wind, began to
slide into the bayofAuaho. The cocoa
palm, that girafle ol vegetables, so graceful,
so ungainly, to the European eye so foreign,
was to be seen crowding on the beach,
and climbing and fringing the steep sides of
mountains; and presently a house or two
appeared, standing high on the ankles of
the hills, and one of these surrounded with
what seemed a garden. These couspicuous
habitations, that patch of culture, had we
but known it, were a mark of the passage of
whites; and we might have approached a
hundred islands and not found their parallel.
It was longer ere we spied the native vil
lage, standing (in the universal fashion)
STEVENSON'S CAMP AT AFAMANA, GILBERT ISLANDS.
close upon a curve of beach, close under a
grove of palms, the sea in front growling
and whitening on a concave arc of reef. For
the cocoa tree and the island man are both
lovers and neighbors of tne surf.
"Tne coral waxes, the palm grows, but
one "man departs," says the sad Tahitian
proverb; but they are all three, so long as
they endure, co-haunters of the beach. The
mark of anchorage was a blow-hole in the
rocks, near the southeasterly corner of the
bar. Punctually to our use, the blow-hole
spouted; the schooner turned upon her heel;
the anchor plunged. It was a small sound,
a great event; my soul wentdown with these
moorings, whence no windlass may extract
OF MARQUESAS.
nor any diver fish it up; and I and some
partol mv ship's company were from that
hour the bondslaves ot the isles of VivieD.
Before yet the anchor plunged a canoe
was already paddling from the hamlet. It
contained two men one white, one brown
and tattooed across the face with bands of
blue, both in immaculate white European
clothes the resident trader, Mr. Begler, and
the native chief, Taipi-Kikino.
"Captain, is it permitted to come on
board?" were the first words we heard
among the islands. Canoe followed canoe
till the ship warmed with stalwart, 6-foot
men in every stage of undress; some in a
shirt, some in a loin cloth, one in a hand
kerchief, imperfectly adjusted; some, and
these the more considerable, tattooed from
head to foot in awfnl patterns; some barbar
sous and knived; one. who sticks in mv
memory as something bestial, sqatting on
nis nams in a canoe, sucKing an orange and
spitting it out again to alternate sides, with
an apelike vivacity all talking, and we
could not understand one word; all trying
to trade with us, who had no thought of
trading, or offering us island curios at prices
palpably absurd.
There was no word of welcome; no show
of civility; no hand extended save that of
the chief and Mr. Eegler. As we still con
tinned to refuse the proffered articles, com
plaint ran high and rude; and one, the jester
of the party, railed upon our meanness, amid
jeering laughter. Among other angrv
pleasantries "Here is a mighty fine ship,"
said he, "to have no money on board!" I
own I was inspired with" sensible repug
nance, even with alarm. The ship was
manifestly in their power; we had women
on board; I knew nothing of my guests be
yond the fact that they were cannibals; the
Directory (my only guide) was full of timid
cautions; and as for the trader, whose pres
ence might else have reassured me, were not
whites in the Pacific the usual instigators
and accomplices of native outrage? "When
he reads this confession our kind friend, Mr.
Begler, can afford to smile.
Later in the day, as I sat writing up my,
journal, the cabin was filled from end to end
with Marquesans three brown-skinned
generations, squatted cross-legged upou the
floor, and regarding me in sileuce with em
barrassing eyes. Tnecjes of all Polynes
ians aie liirge, luminous, and melting; they
are like the eyes of animals and Mime Ital
ians. The Koniaus knew that look, and had
a word for it; oculi putres, they said eye8
rancid with expression. A kind of despair
came over me, to sit there helpless under all
these staring orbs, and be thus blocked in a
corner of my cabin by this speechless
crowd; and. a kind of rage to think they
were beyond the reach of articulate com
munication, like furred animals, or folk
born deaf, or the dwellers of some alien
planet.
To cross the channel Is, for a boy of 12, to
change heavens; to cross the Atlantic, for a
man of 24, is hardly to modify his diet. But
I was now escaped out of the shadow of the
Bo man empire, tinder whose toppling mon
uments we were all cradled, whose laws
and letters are on every hand of us, con
straining and preventing. I was now to
see what men,niight be whose fathers never
studied Virgil, had never been conquered
by Cassar and never been ruled by the wis
dom of Gaius or Papinian. By the same
step I bad journeyed forth out of that com
fortable zone of kindred languages, where
the curse of Babel is so easy to be reme
died; and my fellow creatures sat before me
dumb, like images. Methought, in my
travels, all human relation was to be ex
cluded; and when I returned home (for
in those days I still projected my return) I
should have but dipped into a picture book
without a text. Nay, and I even ques
tioned if my travels should be much pro
longed; perhaps they were destined to a
speedy end: perhaps my subsequent friend,
Kauanui, whom I remarked there, sitting
silent with the rest, for a man of some au
thority, might leap up with an ear-splitting
signal, the ship be carried with a rnsh, and
the ship's company butchered for the table.
There could be nothing more natural than
these apprehensions, nor anything more
froundless. In my experience o'f the island",
had never again so menacing a reception;
were I to meet with such to-day, I should be
more alarmed and tenfold more surprised.
Tne majority of Polynesians are easy folk to
get in touch with, frank, fond of notice,
greedy of the least affection, like amiable,
fawning dogs; and even with the Marques
as, so recently and so imperfectly redeemed
from a blood-boltered barbarism, "all were to
become our intimates, and one, at least, was
to monrn sincerely our departure.
The impediment of tongues was one that I
particularly overestimated. The languages
of Polynesia are easy to smatter, though
hard to speak with elegance. And they are
extremely similar, so that a person who has
a tincture ot one or two may risk, rot with
outhope, an attempt upon the others.
Kot only is Polynesian easv to smatter,
but interpreters abound. Missionaries,
traders, and broken white folk living on the
bounty of the natives, are to be found in al
most every isle and hamlet; and even where
these are "unserviceable, the natives them
selves have often scraped up a little English,
and in the French zone (though far less com
monly) a little French-English, or an effi
cient pidgin, what is called to the westward
"Beach-la-Mar," comes easy to the Polyne
sian; it is now taught, besides, in the schools
of Hawaii; and from the multiplicity of
British ships, and the nearness of the States
on one hand, and the colonies on the other,
it may be called, and will almost certainly
become, the tongue of the Pacific
I will instance a few examples. I met in
Majnro a Marshall Island boy who spoke
excellent English; this he had learned in
the German firm in Jaluit, yet did not speak
one word of German. I heard lrom a gend
arme who had taught school in Bapa-iti
that while the children had the utmost diffi
culty or reluctance to learn French, they
picked up English on the wayside and as if
by accident. On oneof the most out-of-tbe-way
atolls in the Carolines, my friend, Mr. Benja
min Herd, was amazed to find the lads play
ing cricket on the beach and talking
English: and it was in English that the
crew of the Janet Nicoll, a set of black
boys from different Melanesiau islands, com
municated with other natives throughout
the cruise, transmitted orders and sometimes
jested together on the fore hatch.
But what struck me perhaps most of all
was a word I heard on the verandah of the
Tribunal at Noumea. A case had just been
heard a trial for infaticide against an ape
like native woman, and the audience were
smoking cigarettes as they awiited the ver
dict. An anxious, amiable French lady,
not far from tears, was eagar for acquittal,
and declared she would engage the prisoner
to be her children's nurse. The bystanders
exclaimedat the proposal; the woman was a
sivage, said they, and spoke no language:
"Mais vous savez," objected the fair senti
mentalist; "ils apprennent si vite An
glais!" But to be able to speak to people is not
GROUP OF SAJIOAS "WITH
all. And in the first stage of my relations
with natives I was helped bv two things.
To begin with, I was the sfiowman of the
Casco. She, her fine lines, tall spars, and
snowy decks, the crimson fittings ot the
saloon, and the white, the gilt, and the re
peating mirrors of the tiny cabin, brought
us a hundred visitors. The men fathomed
ont Iter dimensions with their arms, as their
fathers fathomed out the ships of Conk; the
women declared tne cabins more lovely than
a church; and bouncing Junos wereuever
weary of sitting in the chairs mid con
templating in the glass their own bland images.
PITTSBURG, . SUNDAY,
Bison.it, jam, and syrup was the entertain
ment, and, as in European parlors, the pho
tograph album went the rounds. This sober
gallery, their everyday costumes and physi
ognomies, had become transformed, in three
weeks' sailing, into things wonderful and
rich and foreign; alien faces, barbario
dresses, they were now beheld and fingered,
in the swerving cabin, with innocent excite
ment and surprise. Her Majesty was often
recognized, and I have seen French subjects
kiss her photograph; Captain Speedy in an
Abyssinian war dress, supposed to be the
uniform of the British army met with much
acceptance, and the effigies of Mr. Andrew
Lang were admired in the Marauesas.
There is the place for him to go when he
shall be weary of Middlesex and Homer.
These points of similarity between a South
Sea people and some of my own folk at
home ran much in my head in the islands;
and not only inclined me to view my Iresh
acquaintances with favor, but continually
modified my judgment. A polite English
man, comes to-day to the Marquesans and is
amazed to find the men tattooed; polite
Italians came not long ago to.England and
found our fathers stained with woad; and
J - ""X.' Tafff 'jraT'sr """"" ' '-
A 1IAKQUESAN VILLAGE.
when I paid the return visit as a little bov,
I was highly diverted with the backward
ness of Italy; so insecure, so much a matter
of the day and hour is the pre-eminence of
race. .
It was so that I hit upon a means of com
munication which I recommend to travelers.
"When I desired any detail of savage cus
tom, or of superstitious beliet, I cast back
in the story of my fathers, and fished for
what I wanted with some trait of equal bar
barism; Michael Scott, Lord Derwentwater s
head, the second sight, the Water Kelpie,
each of these I have found to be a killing
bait; the black bull's head of Stirling pro
cured me the legend of Kahero; and what I
knew of the Clunv Micphersons, or the
Appin Stewarts, enabled me to learn, and
helped me to understand, about the Tevas
of Tahiti. The native was no longer
Spearing Fish From the Equator.
ashamed, his sense of kinship grew warmer,
and bis lips were opened. It is this sense
of kinship that the traveler must rouse and
share, or he had better content himself with
travels from the bine bed to the brown.
And the presence of one cockney titterer
will cause a whole party to walk in clouds
of darkness.
The hamlet of Ahaho stands on a margin
of flat land between the west of the beach
and the spring of the impending mountains.
A grove of palms, perpetually ruffling its
green fans, carpets it (as for a triumph)
with fallen branches, and shades it like an
arbor. A road runs from end to end of the
covert among beds of flowers, the milliner's
shop of the community; and here and there,
in the grateful twilight, in an air filled with
a diversity of scents, and still within hear
ing of the surf upon the reef, the native
houses stand in scattered neighborhood. The
same word, as we lmve seen, represents in
many tongues of Polynesia, with scarce a
share of difference, the abode of man. But,
although the word be the same, the structure
itself continually varies; and the Mar
quesas among the most backward and
barbarous of islanders, was yet the most
cnniuwdiouslv lodged. The grass huts ot
Hawaii, the bird cage houses ot Tahiti, or
tbe open shed, with the crazy Venetian
blinds, of the polite Samoan none of these
can be compared with tlio Marquesan
paepae-hae, or dwelling plat orm.
The pae-pae is an oblong terrace, built
without cement, of black volcanic stone,
lrom 20 to 50 feet in length, raided lrom four
to eight feet lrom the earth, and accessible
bya broad stair. Alone the back of this,
and coming to about half its width, runs the
open front of the house, like a covered gal
lery; tbe interior, sometimes neat and al
most elegant in its bareness, the sleeping
space divided off by an end-long coaming,
some bright raiment perhaps hanging from
a nail, and alampandoneofWhite'ssewmg
machines the onlj marks of civilization. On
the outside, at one end of the terrace, burns
the cooking fire under a shed; at the other
PRESENTS TOR STEVENSON.
there is perhaps a pen for pig; the remainder
is the evening lounge and .alfresco banquet
hall of the inhabitants. To some houses
water is brought down the mountain in
bamboo pipes, pertorated for the sake of
sweetness.
With the Highland comparison in my
mind, I was struck to remember tbe
sluttish mounds of turf and stone in which I
have sat and been entertained in the Heb
rides and North Islands. Two tbingsjl
suppose, explain the contrast. In Scotland
i wood is rare, and with materials so rude as
mn and stone, tne verv nope or neatness is
excluded. And in Scotland it is cold.
FEBRUARY 1, , 189L
Shelter and a hearth are needs so pressing
that a man looks not beyond; he is out all
day after a bare bellyful, and at night when
he sayeth. "Aha, it ts warm!" he has not
appetite for more. Or if for something else,
then something higher; a fine school of
poetry and song arose in these rough shel
ters, and an air like "Lacbaber no more" is
an evidence of refinement more convincing,
as well as more imperishable, than a palace.
To one such dwelling platform a consid
erable troop of relatives and dependents re
sort. In the hour of the dusk, when the fire
blazes and the scent of the cooked bread
fruit fills the air, and perhaps the lamp
glints already between the pillars of the
house, you shall behold them silently as
semble' to this meal, men, women and chil
dren; and the does and pigs frisk together
up the terrace stairway, switching rival
tails. The strangers from the ship were
soon equally welcome; welcome to dip their
fingers in the wooden dish, to drink cocoa
nuts, to share the circulating pipe, and to
heir and had bijh debate about the misdeeds
of;the French, the Panama Canal, or the geo
graphical position of San Francisco and
New Yo'ko (New York). In a highland
hamlet, quite out ot reach ol any tourist, 1
have met the same plain and dignified hos
pitality. I have mentioned the distasteful behavior
of our earliest visitors, but tbe great major
ity of Polynesians are excellently mannered;
however, the Marquesan stands apart, annoy
ing and attractive, wild, shy and refined. If
you make him a present he affects to forget
it, and it must be offered him again at his
going; a pretty formality I have found
nowhere else. A hint will get rid of any one
or any number; they are so fiercely proud
and modest; while many of the more lovable
but blunter islanders crowd upon a stranger,
and can be no more driven off than flies. A
slight or an insult the Marquesan seems
never to forget I was one day talking by
the wayside with my friend Hoka, when 1
perceived his eyes suddenly to flash and his
stature to swell. A white horseman was
coming down the mountain, and as he
passed, and while he paused to exchange
salutations with myself, Eoka was still
staring and ruffling like a game cock. It
was a Corsican who had years before called
him cochon sauvage cocou chauvage, as
Hoka mispronounced it.
With people as nice and so touchy, it was
scarce to be supposed that our company of
greenhorns should not blunder into offenses.
Hoka, on one of bis visits, fell suddenly in
a brooding silence, and presently after left
the ship with cold formality. When he took
me b3Ck into favor he adroitly and pointedly
explained the nature of my offense: I had
asked him to sell cocoanuts; and lu Hoka's
view articles of food were things that a gen
tleman should give, not sell; or at least that
he should not-sell to any friend. On another
occasion I gave my boat's crew a luncheon of
chocolate and biscuits. I had sinned, I
could never learn .how, against some point
of observance; and, though I was dryly
thanked, my offerings were left upon the
beach.
But our worst mistake was a slight we put
on Toma, Hoka's adoptive father, and in his
own eves the rightful chief of Anaho. In tbe
first place, we did not call upon him, as per
haps we should, in his fine new European
house, the only one iu the hamlet In the
second, when we came ashore upon a visit to
his rival, Taipi-klkino, it was Toma whom
we saw standing at the head of tbe beach, a
magnificent figure of a man, magnificently
tattooed; and it was of Toma that we asked
our question: "Where is the chief?"
"What chief?" cried Toma, and turned
his back on the blasphemers. Nor did he
forgive us. Hoka came and went with us
daily; but alone, I believe, of all the coun
tryside, neither Toma nor his wife set
foot on board the Casco. The temptation
resisted it is hard for a European to com-
A lallooed Native.
pete. The "Flying City of L3puta,"
moored for a fortnight in St. James' Park,
aflords but a pale figure of the Casco
anchored be'ore Anaho; for the Londoner
has still his change of pleasures, but the
Marquesan passes to his grave through an
unbroken uniformity of days.
On the afternoon before it was intended
we should sail a valedictory party came on
board, nine of our" p-trticular friends,
equipped with gifts and dressed as for a fes
tival. Hoka, the chief dancer and singer,
the greatest dandy of Anaho and one of the
handsomest young fellows in the world
sullen, showy, dramatic, light as a feather
ami strong, as an ox it would have been
linrd on that occasion to recognize, as he sat
there stooped and silent, his face heavy and
gray. It was strange to see the lad so much
affected; stranger still to recognize in his
last gift one ol the curios we had refused on
the first day. and to know our friend, so
gayly dressed, so plainly moved at our de
parture, lor one of the half-naked crew that
hud besieged and insulted us on our arrival;
strangest of all, perhaps, to find in that
carved handle of a fan, the last of those
curiosities of the first day which had now all
been civeti to us by their possessors their
chief merchandise", for which they had
sought lo ransom us as long as we were
strangers, which they pressed on us for
nothing as soon ns w'e were friends. The
last visit was not long protrac'ted. One after
another they shook hands ahd got down into
their canoe, when Hoka turned his back im
mediately upon the ship, so that we saw his
face no more. Taipi, on the other hand, re
mained standing and facing us with gracious
valedictory gestures; and when C.iptain Otis
dipped the ensign the whole party saluted
with their hats. This was the farewell; the
espisodc of our visit to Anaho was held con
cluded; and though the Casco remained
nearly 40 hours at her moorings, not one re
turned on board, and lam inclined to think
they avoided appearing on the beacb. This
reserve and dignity is the finest trait of the
Marquesan.
Robert Louis Stevenson.
Emperor "William's Number Sir.
Number Six, the latest born in the Ger
man Emperor's family, is not a rarity, but
his parents are so "proud of his being
"another boy" they are to give him a great
"send-off" at his christening. Every
crowned head in Eurooe, save the Czar, is to
stand sponsor for Number Six, arid if he
manages to survive all these royalties prom
ising every Bort ol thing for him, Jne will be
"smarter" than most boys.
"mT-rtna?K!5i"lr"4
Iff
f i
fii fi?
WEALTH IS DIVINE,
Bishop Kewman Is a Believer in the
Accumulation of Money.
THE RICH -MEN ARE KOT DA11XED.
Labor's War To-Day Is Only Against the
Aristocracy of Capital.
POWER OF DIVES F0K DOING GOOD
IWniTTZN FOB TUB DISrATCB-J
I believe in accumulated wealth. The
acquisition of property is a divine gi.t. In
dustry and frugality are the laws of thrift.
To amass great lortunes is a special endow
ment As poets, philosophers and orators
are born such, so the financier has a genius
for wealth. By intuition he is familiar
with the laws of supply and demand. He
seems gifted with the vision of a seer of the
coming changes in the market; he knows
when to buy and when to sell, and when to
hold fast He anticipates the flow of popu
lation and its effect upou real estate.
As the poet must sing becanse the muse
is in him, so the financier must make
money. He cannot help it The endow
ment of this gift is announced in Scripture:
"The Lord thy God giveth thee power to
get wealth." And all such promises are
illustrated in the present financial condi
tion of Christian nations, who control the
finances of the world.
A Wild, Irrational Cry.
Against these natural and lawful rights
to the possession of property is the clamor
for the distribution of property among those
who have not acquired it, either by inheri
tance, or skill, or industry. It is a com
munism that has no foundation either in the
constitution of nature or in the social order
of mankind. It is the wild, irrational cry
oflabor against capital, between which, iu
the economy of nature and in political econ
omy, there should be no common antag
onism. There is a wealth of muscle, and a wealth
of brain, and a wealth of character. He is a
laborer who does productive work; he is a
capitalist who has ?5 or $500,000. Capital
may be a tyrant, and labor may be a despot
The employer and the employe have invio
lable rights; the former to employ whom he
can for what he can, and the latter to re
spond when he can. The envy of the poor
and the jealousy of the laboring classes are
not excited against those who possess vast
fortunes, but against the supreme ease and
the supreme indifference of the rich.
The .Mission or "Wealth.
Wealth has the noblest of missions. It is
not given to hoard, nor to gratify, nor for
tne snow oi pomp and power. The rich are
the almoners ot the Almighty. They are
His disbursing agents. They are the guard
ians of tbe poor. They are to inaugurate
those great enterprises which will bring
thrift to the masses; not the largest dividends,
but the largest 'prosperity. Capital makes
it possible lor the laborer to enjoy a happi
ness that waits upon honest industry.
When the wealthy build libraries of learn
ing, museums of art, and temples of piety,
they will be esteemed tbe benefactors of tbeir
kind. When the wealth of capital joins
hands with the wealth of intellect, the wealth
of muscle, and the wealth of goodness for the
common good, then labor and capital will
be esteemed the equal factors in giving
every man life,"' liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness.
Founded in Nature.
The right tb property is founded in nature,
sustained by organized society, and pro
tected by the sanctions of tbe divine law.
This right has its origin in a prior fact, that
each human being is a distinct individual
ity, adapted to all the purposes of self gov
ernment, and responsible to God and to so
ciety for the manner in which his powers are
employed. By his physical nature he is
connected with the universe, which is modi
fied to supply his wants. He is so created
that he is dependent on the air, tbe sun
shine and tbe products of the soil for tbe
continuance of his hie, and that end is at
tained as he puts forth his natural powers
and extracts lrom the universe that on which
be cau subsist He has a right to use his
body as he will, provided such use is not an
interference with the equal rights of his fel
low men.
Possessing an intellect, he has a right to
the products thereof. Endowed with a soul
of sensibilities, passions, and aspirations, he
has the inherent right to seek happiness, al
ways recognizing a common right in each of
bis fellow creatures. By this physical, in
tellectual, and spiritual "endowment man is
mado for society, and each Individual in his
social capacityis bound to every other in
dividual by the law of reciprocity. If, by the
constltntion of nature, a man has a rigbt to
himself, he has also an equal right to that
which may result from tbe innocent use of bis
bodily and mental powers. The rcsnlt is what
men call property.
Divine and Hoinan Law.
In all well-regulated society every man is ac
corded tbe right to possess tbat which he has
made and the power of control over tbe same.
He has not only the right to a piece of gold by
discovery, or purchase, or labor, bnt, when he
fasbiona tho same into a work of art.bls right
is increased by virtue of bis skill. Around this
sacred right divino and human laws throw their
awful sanctions. "Thou Shalt not steal" is tbe
command of high heaven.
Upon the recognition of this right depend
tbe existence and progress of society. Ignore
this rigbt and no one would labor mure than is
sufficient for bis individual subsistence, as be
wonld have no more right than any other per
son to the surplus and there wonld therefore
be no accumulation, no provision for the
future, no means by which improvements could
be made; there would be no noble cities, no
elegant homes, no invented means of travel, no
advanced civilization. The question involves
tbe distinction between the savagery of tbe
barbarian and tbe refinements and comforts of
civilized life. A nation of thieves would be a
nation of barbarians.
There is no prejudice against honorable and
benevolent wealth. The war of to-day against
capital is against the aristocracy of riches and
where wealth is hoarded and appronriaterl tor
personal gratification and grandeur, or held for
tbe lore of the power that issues therefrom.
Angered by the Selfish Man.
It Is this selfishness ot the affluent tbat
awakens the wrath of the poor of the laboring
classes. Nor is there violent opposition to for
tunes speedily acquired, but public displeasure
is aroused against tbe man of wealth who ma
nipulates tbo market for his own benefit, and is
indifferent to tbebankmptcy of hundreds and
thousands whose acquired fortunes are sacri
ficed by his heartless atock gambling.
It is not true tbat the neb are necessaril) mis
anthropic. Large possessions in land and money
do not sour the milk of human Kindne-s that
flows through tbe veins of humanity. To whom
are we indebted lor those houses of cbariiv
whose gates of mercy stand open daj and night?
Who are the founders of thoe libraries which
spread tbeir ample feast before mankind? The
universities and colleges of our country are tbe
monuments of the rich. Society his tbo right
to demand ot tbe rich to regard tbeir wealth as
a talent of usefulness to multiply tbo comforts
of tbe laboringclissos, to diffuse knowledge, to
alleviate suffering, and to equalize, a far as
possiblo, tho social condition -ot their fellow
men. Joux 1. Newjian.
Didn't Use One There.
Boston Herald
Tramp Don't call me lazy, madam. I
assure you I take great pleasure in using
the pick.
Lady Well, there's one in the barn you
can use to clear the ice from that path.
Tramp It isn't the right kind, lady.
Lady Why, what kind of a pick do yoa
mean? " -.
Tramp A tooth-pick.
For Theater Lovers.
Geyer's Stationer.
A lovely little blank book called "The
Becord of Plays Seen" is a pleasure to thea
ter goers. It has printed blanks upon which
to record the time, play, theater, cast of
characters, notes, etc.
A FANTASTIC TALE, INTRODUCING HYPNOTIC THEORIES. -
tTRITTEW FOR THE DISPATCH
BY P. MARION CRAWFORD,
Author of "Mr. Isaacs," "Dr. Claudius," "A. Roman Singer," and
Many Other Stories That Have Taken Sank as
Standard Literature.
SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.
The entire action occurs in a little over four weeks, and in tbe city ot Prague, Bohemia. The
story opens In tbe Teyn Church, crowded with people. The hero, the Wanderer, is there, search
ing lor bis love, Beatrice. Seven years Defore tbey bad fallen in love, bnt her father forbade a
marriage and took nls daughter away on endless travels to cure her of her affection. For seven
long years the Wanderer has searched for her. On this day he sees her in a distant part ot the
church. He attempts to reach ber, but the crowd is too great Finally, in tbe darkness, he fol
lowed a figure he thinks is tbat of Beatrice to the home of Unorna, tbn Witch of Pragae. Tbo
latter calls tbe girl he has followed and convinces bim of bis mistake. Unorna falls in love with
tbe Wanderer and finds she can hypnotize bim. He tells her his story and she offers to help bim
find Beatrice. Feartnl ot ber hypnotic powers, tbe Wanderer concludes to search .Prague him
self first, and, failing, then to seek tbe Witch's aid. He searches and fails. About to return to
the Witcb. be meets Keork Arabian, an old friend, to whom he tells the story. Tbe latter ad
vises tbe Wanderer to go to the Witch. Meantime. Israel Kafka vl3lts tbe Witch. They had
been lovers, but now the Witch finds herself madly in love with the Wanderer. She tries in vain
to put Kafka off, and then hypnotizes him and commands him not to love her longer.
CHAPTER V.
N O E N A passed
through a corridor,
which was, indeed,
only u long balcony
covered in with
arches and closed
windows against tbe
outer air. At the
farther end three steps descended to a dark
door, through the thickness oi a massive
wall, showing that at this point TJnorna's
house had at some former time been joined
with another building beyond, with which
it thus formed one habitation. Unorna
paused, holding the key as though hesitat
ing whether she should put it in the lock.
It was evident that much depended upon
her decision, for her face expressed the
anxiety she felt Once she turned away, as
THE SECBET OP LIFE AND
though to abandon her intention, hesitatedj
and then, with an impatient frown, opened
the door and went in. She passed through
a small, well-lighted vestibule, and entered
the room beyond.
'Ihe apartment was furnished with luxury,
but a stranger would have received an oddly
disquieting impression of the wholeata first
glance. There was everything in the place
vhich is considered necessary for a bedroom,
and everything was perfect of its kind, spot
less and dustless, and carefully arranged in
order. But almost everything was of an un
usual and unfamiliar shape, ns though de
signed for some especial reason to remain in
equilibrium in any possible position, and t0
The Wolf Crawled Fawning to Her Feet.
be moved lrom place to place with the small
est imaginabli' physical effort. The carved
bedstead was fitted with wheels, which did
not touch the ground, and levers so placed
as lobe within reach of a person lying within
it. The tables were each supported atone end
nnlv by one strong column, fixed to a heavy
base set on broad rollers, so that tbe board
could be run across a bed or a lounge with
the greatest case. There was but one chair
made like ordinary chairs; the rest were so
constructed that the least motion of the oc
cupant must be accompanied by a corre
sponding change of position of the back" and
arms, and some of them bore :i curious re
semblance to a surgeon's operating table,
haviug attachments of silver-plated metal at
many points, of which the object was not
immediately evident Before a closed door
a sort ol wheeled conveyance, partaking of
the nature of a chair and of a perambulator,
stood upon polished rails, which disappeared
under the door itself, showing that the thing
was intended to be moved from one room to
another in a certain way and in a fixed line.
The rails, had tbe door heen opened, wonld
have been seen to descend upon the
other -side by' a gentle inclined plane
into the center of a htige marble
basin, and the contrivance thus made it
possible to wheel a person icto a bath and
out again without necessitating the slightest
effort or change of position in the body. In
the bedroom the windows were arranged so
that tbe light and air could be regulated to
a nicety. The walls were covered with fine
basket'work, apparently adapted in panels;
JITCrV
but these nanels were in reality movabl
trays, as it were, forming shallow boxes
fitted with closely woven wicker covers, and
filled with charcoal and other porous sub
stances intended to absorb the impurities of
the air, and thus easily changed and renewed
lrom time to time. Immediately beneath the
ceiling were placed delicate glas3 globes of
various soft colors, with silken shades, mov
able from below by means of brass rods and
handles. In the ceiling itself there were
very large ventilators, easily regulated as
might be required; and there was a curious
arrangement of rails and wheels from which
depended a sort of swing, apparently adapted
for moving a person or a weight to different
parts of the room without touching the floor.
Iu one of the lounges, not far from the win
dow, lay a colossal old man, wrapped in a
loose robe of warm white stuff, and fast
asleep.
He was a very old man, so old indeed, as
to make it hard to-gues3 his age from his
face and his hands, the only Darts visible as
I he lay at rest, the vast body and limbs lying
DEATH "WAS BEFORE IIEK.
motionless under his garment as beneath a
heavy white pall. He could not be less
than 100 years old, but how much older
than that he might really be, it was impossi
ble to say. What might be called the
waxen period had set in, and the high color
less features seemed to be modeled in that
soft, semi-transparent material. The time
had come when tbe stern furrows of age had
broken up into countless minutely traced
lines, so close and fine as to seem a part of
the texture of the skin, mere shadings,
evenly distributed throughout, and no longer
affecting the expression of the face as the
deep wrinkles had done in former days; at
threescore and ten, at fourscore, and even at
90 years. Tbe century that had passed had
taken with it its marks and scars, leaving
the great features in tbeir original purity of
design, lean, smooth and clearly defined.
Tbat last change in living man is rare
enough, but when once seen is not to be for
gotten. There is something in the faoes of
the very, very old which hardly suggests
age at all, but rather the vague possibility
of a returning prime. Only the hands tell
the tale, with their huze, shining, fleshless
joints, their shadowy hollows, and their un
nitural yellow nails. ,
The old man lay quite still, breathing
soltly through his snowy beard. Unorna
came to his side. There was something of
wonder and admiration in her own eyes as
she stood there gazing upon the face which
other generations of men and women, all
long dead, had looked upon and known.
The secret of life and death was before her
each day when she entered that room, and
on the very verge of solution. The wisdom
hardly gained in many lands was striving
with all its concentrated power to preserve
that life; the rare and subtle gifts which she
herself possessed were daily exercised to
their full in the suggestion of vitality; the
most elaborate inventions of skilled mech
anicians were employed iu reducing the
labor oi living to the lowest conceivable de
gree of effort Tbe great experiment was be
ing tried. What Keyork Arabian described
as the embalmiog oi a man still alive was
being attempted. And he lived. For years
they had watched him and tended
him and looked critically for the
least signs of a diminution or augmenta
tion of strength. They knew that he was
Let Bygones Be Bygones, Keyork.
now in his" 107th year, and yet he lived and
was no weaker. Was there" a limit or was
there not, since the destrnctionof the tissues
was arrested beyond doubt, so far as the
most minute tests could show? Might there
not be, in tbe slow oscillations of natnre, a
degree of decay, on this side of death, from
which a return could be possible, provided
tbat the critical moment were passed in
state of sleep and under perfect bodily coa
il
f
i