THE TORCH OF REASON, SILVERTON, OREGON, MARCH 1, 1900.
2
“Limited express,” he said; “all aboard,’ you can hear him to the
palace cars, and two dollars extra next station. Every train light
for a seat, fast time and only stop shines like a headlight. Stop-over
BY D. PRIE8TLEY.
at the big stations. Nice line, but checks are given on all through
too expensive for a brakeman. All tickets. A passenger can drop off
J was intensely interested, but, I
trainmen in uniform, conductor’s the train as often as he likes, do
confess, not at all enlightened, bv
punch and lantern silver-plated the station two or three times and
Mr. Underwood’s article on the
and no train boys allowed. I hen hop on the next revival train that
first page of the T orch of February
the passengers are allowed to talk comes along. Good, whole-souled,
8th. It seems to me that the
back to the conductor, and it companionable conductors. Ain’t
whole discussion is based on the
makes them too free and easy. a road in the country where the
use of ambiguous terms. Let us
No, I couldn’t stand the palace passengers feel more at home. No
first look at the dictionary:
cars. Rich road, though. Don’t passes; every passenger pays full
S ound —Noise; report; the object of
often Jiear of receiver being ap­ tariff rates for his ticket. Wesleyan
hearing; that which strikes the
pointed for that line. Some mighty air brakes on all trains, too. Pretty
ear. 2. A vibration of the air,
safe road, but I didn’t ride over it
nice people travel on it, too.”
caused by a collision of bodies or
yesterday.”
“Universalist?” I suggested.
other means sufficient to affect
“ Perhaps you tried the Baptist?”
the auditory nerves when per­
“Broad gauge,” said the brake-
fect.
man; “does too much complimen­ I guessed once more.
L ight —The agent which produces
“ Ab, ah! ” said the brakeman,
tary business. Everybody travels
vision.
on a pass. Conductor doesn’t get “she’s a daisy, ain’t she? River
V ision —The act of seeing external
a fare once in fifty miles. Stops at road, beautiful curves; sweeps
objects.
all stations and won’t run into around anything to keep close to
H eat —The force, agent or prin­
anything but a union depot. No the river, but it’s all steel rail and
ciple in nature which renders
smoking car on the train. Train rock ballast, single track all the
bodies solid, fluid or aeriform .
and which we perceive through
orders are rather vague, though, way and not a sidetrack from
the sense of feeling.
and the trainmen don’t get along roundhouse to the terminus. It
well with the passengers. No, I takes a heap of water to run it,
Mr. Underwood says, “Only
don’t go to the Universalist, though though; double tanks at every sta­
those who possess the power of ab­
1 know some awfully good men tion, and there isn’t an engine in
stract thinking can grasp readily
the shops that can pull a pound or
who run on that road.”
the idea that we know phenomena
run a mile with less than two
“Presbyterian?” I asked.
only as an affection of conscious­
“Narrow gauge, eh?” said the gauges. But it runs through a
ness.” But the question is not how
brakeman. “Pretty track, straight lovely country; these river roads
we know phenomena, but whether
as a rule; tunnel right through a always do. River on one side and
phenomena exist. If phenomena
mountain rather than to go around hills on the other, and it’s a steady
do not exist objectively, how can
it; spirit-level grade; passengers climb up the grade all the way till
we know them by consciousness or
have to show their tickets before the run ends, where the fountain­
otherwise? To know what does
they get on the train. Mighty head of the l iver begins. Yes, sir,
not exist is to know nothing. A
strict road, but the cars are a little I’ll take the river road every time
spiritualist friend of mine once
narrow; have to sit one in a seat for a lovely trip; sure connections
told me that he could put a blank
and no room in the aisle to dance. and good time, and no prairie dust
card against a wall,and by concen­
Then there are no stop-over tickets blowing in at the windows. And
trating what he supposed to be his
The B ra ke m a n a t C hurch.
allowed; got to go straight through yesterday, when the conductor
mind on some person of his ac­
to the station you’re ticketed to, or came around for the tickets with a
quaintance, he could see the pic­
BY ROBERT J . BURDETTE.
you can’t get on at all. When the little basket punch, I didn’t ask
ture of that person upon that card.
According to my notion, when
On the road onoe more, with car’s full, no extra coaches; cars him to pass me, but I paid my fare
there is a picture on a card and a Lebanon fading away in the dis­ are built at the shops to hold just like a little man—twenty-five cents
person can see it, there is objective tance, the fat passenger drumming so many, and nobody else allowed for an hour’s run and a little con­
phenomena which in some way idly on the window pane, the cross on. But you don’t often hear of cert by the passengers assembled.
corresponds with the subjective; passenger sound asleep, and the an accident on that road. It’s run I tell you, Pilgrim, you take the
river, and when you want----- ”
but when a person sees what does tall, thin passenger reading “Gen. right up to the rules.”
not exist independently of his con­ Grant’s Tour Around the World” “Maybe you went to the Congre­ But just here the loud whistle
from the engine announced a sta­
sciousness, it is entirely subjective. and wondering why “Freethought gational church?” I said.
“Popular road,” said the brake- tion, and the brakeman hurried to
When a person gets in a condition Pills for That Narrow Feeling”
such that he habitually fails to should be paiuted above the doors man. “Au old road, too; one of the door, shouting:
“Zionsville! This train makes
distinguish between the subjective of a “ Buddhist Temple at Beu- the very oldest in the country.
and the objective, that person is a ares.” To me comes the brake- Good roadbed and comfortable no stops between here and Indian­
lunatic.
man, and, seating himself on the cars. Well managed road, too; apolis!” ___________
directors don’t interfere with di­
The person who remarked “that arm of the seat, says:
The idea of going to heaven
vision superintendents and train
cataracts roared, thunder reverber­ “I went to church yesterday.”
through the aid of priests places
ated through the heavens long be* j “Yes?” I said, with that inter­ orders. Road’s mighty popular, mankind at once in a stage o* de­
fore there was an ear to hear such ested inflection that asks for more. but it’s pretty independent, too. pendence and inferiority. When
sounds” said what was strictly “And what church did you at­ Yes, didn’t one of the division once accustomed to this state, they
superintendents down east discon­
true. Those vibrations or sounds tend?”
tinue one of the oldest stations on are thus necessarily prepared for
were the creators of ears and the
all those degrading concessions and
cause of the subjective sensation of( “ Which do you guess?” he asked. this line several years ago? But
“Some union mission church,” I it’s a mighty pleasant road to compliances, which constitute the
hearing. The sounds were here
hazarded.
travel ou; always has such a condition of master and slave.
long before there were organs of
Firmness and nobleness of mind
“No,” he said, “I don’t like to splendid class of passengers.”
hearing, else there never would
“Did you try the Methodist? ’ I are gone; men become dastards in
have been any ears. Light ex­ run on those branch roads very
character, and recreant in nature.
isted, else it could never have pro­ much. I don’t often go to church, said.
The designing and hypocritical,
“Now you’re shouting,” he said, who believe nothing of the imposi­
duced organs of sight. Heat was and when I do I want to run on
here intense enough to melt the the main line, where your run is with some enthusiasm. “Nice tion, join in the practice of it, to
earth. I have looked into a smelt­ regular and you go on schedule road, eh? Fast time and plenty of carry their own worldly schemes:
ing furnace where iron was liquid time and don’t have to wait on passengers. Engines carry a power some of pride, some of genius, others
of gain, but like all schemas
and know there was intense heat, connections. I don’t like to run lot steam, and don’t forget it; steam tyranny, the burthen of paying and
but could not have known it as a on a branch. Good enough, but I gauge shows a hundred, and fighting for them falls invariably
enough all the time. Lively road; ou the common mass. — Horace
matter of sensation, for if I had don’t like it.”
U 1 Episcopal?” I guessed.
when the conductor shouts ‘all Seaver.
been there I should have been in- ,
A C ritic is m .
Cineraieu a n u n e v e r n a u a n y u n u e
sensation.
“Vibrations of air communicated
to the sense of hearing (the acoustic
nerve) gives rise to a sensation.
That sensation is called sound.
Mr. Underwood may call that sen­
sation sound if he chooses, but I
avoid confusion and ambiguity by
calling it hearing, and I have good
authority for Mr. Underwood calls
it hearing in the above quotation.
Mr. Underwood says “Only as
auditory nerve was evolved was
there sound: only as the optical
apparatus was developed was there
light.” I should amend that by
saying, only as auditory nerve was
evolved was there hearing; only as
the optical apparatus was develop­
ed w; s there sight.” That seems
to contain all the truth there is in
the question, and makes it a truism
too simple to need telling.
Lastly we have Huxley’s state­
ment: “That all phenomena are, in
their last analysis, known to us
only as facts of consciousness.”
There it is again—“kr own to us.”
Nothing is or can be known to us.
What is known, is known to some
individual. Every judge or lawyer
knows that what can be verified by
several witnesses is probably ob­
jectively true.
“Us” is a myth like “the thing
in itself,” and Mr. Wakeman’s
“humanity,” spelled with capital
letters. The phenomenal is the
real. Consciousness is a phenom­
enon.