The Sunday Oregonian., June 17, 1900, Page 6, Image 6

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TODAY'S "WEATHER Showers during fore
noon, followed by fair and warmer weather:
Xvesterly winds.
POR.TXAM), SUNDAY, JUXB 17.
THE CHIXKSE CRISIS.
The report from China that the For
eign Legation residences have all been
-destroyed in Pekin; that the German
"minister has been murdered; that Tien
Tsin Is in the hands of the Boxers, Is
salarmlng. Yet the situation is not
worse, nor the Chinese atrocities more
outrageous, than those which preceded
the War of 1SG0, when an army of 5000
.British and French troops marched on
IFekin, captured and burned the famous
"Summer Palace" as an object-lesson
of foreign retribution for the seizure of
twenty-six British subjects, thirteen
of whom were barbarously murdered,
and all of whom were subjected to per
gonal indignity and torture. This "War
of 18S0 grew out of the attempt to ratify
the treaty of peace extorted by the
rallies in the war of 1S57-58.
In October, 1856, a party of Chinese
.police seized the Arrow, a Chinese ves
eel, sailing under the British flag, and
.registered in Hong Kong. The British
Consul demanded4 of the Viceroy of
-Canton that he return the captured
-Chinese crew, and apologize. The Vice
roy returned the men, but refused to
apologize. The British warships at
once bombarded and captured the Can
ton forts. The French Government
seized the occasion to join in an expedi
tion Intended to enforce more satisfac
tory relations with China. The expedi
tionary force left England in the Spring
of 1S57, but was diverted to India to
aid In suppression of the mutiny, and
did not reach Hong Kong until Decem
ber. A force of 5000 British and 900
French troops bombarded and occupied
Canton, a city of a million inhabitants,
December 29, 1S57. In April, 185S, the
Taku forts at the mouth of the Pel
Ho River were bombarded and stormed
and Tien Tsin taken, fifty miles above
the mouth of the river. On June 26
and 27, 1858, the Chinese signed treaties
of peace with the English and French.
These treaties stipulated for the resi
dence of foreign Ministers at Pekin,
for the opening of additional ports, for
the navigation of the Tangtse River.
About $5,500,000 indemnity was provid
ed for in the British treaty, and a
smaller sum in the French.
When the British Minister, Mr. Bruce,
early in 1859, undertook to proceed to
Pekin to exchange ratifications of the
treaty, he learned that the Imperial
government was hostile to the treaty
and was making warlike preparations
at the mouth of the Pel Ho, Admiral
Hope, in command of the British forces,
attempted to force the passage of the
Pel Ho, but was defeated with consid
erable loss. The British Government
at once demanded a formal apology for
the act of the Chinese troops at the
mouth of the Pel Ho in firing upon
-Admiral Hope's ships. The French
Government Joined in this demand in
"March, I860, and in April a response
was received flatly refusing the de,
'mands of the allies. On August 21 a
force of 5000 men was landed by the
allies, which captured the Pel Ho forts
and occupied Tien Tsin. The Chinese
'imperial commissioners now appeared
.ready to ratify the treaty, and an ar
rangement was made that the troops
should halt at Tung Chow, where a final
conference would be held. Mr. Parkes,
with a British party of twenty-five oth
ers, was sent forward under protection
of a flag of truce to this town to agree
upon a place of encampment and the
means of procuring supplies. While
engaged In their work they were
treacherously arrested, and thirteen of
them "were horribly tortured and then
beheaded. Tre allies at once attacked
the Chinese, routed them, reached Pe
"kin on the 6th of October, and forced it
to surrender on the 3th of that month.
On the 24th ratifications of the treaty
-of 185S were exchanged with both
France and England. The imperial
"Summer Palace" was deliberately
destroyed by the allies as a landmark
of signal punishment for the treat
ment of Mr. Parkes and those of his
i-companions who had been seized and
Vmurdered in defiance of honor and the
law of nations. This war with China
occurred when the imperial government
was struggling with the Tal Ping Re
bellion, for the suppression of which
foreign powers lent all possible aid.
As late as July, 1S70, a popular out
break took place at Tien Tsin, during
which the French Consul, the Vice
Consul, the Interpreter of the French
Legation at Eekln and his wife, a Cath
olic priest, nine Sisters of Charity, a
French subject engaged in trade and
his wife, and three Russians were hor
ribly tortured and then barbarously
murdered by the mob. The French
Consulate, the cathedral and the mis
sionary hospital, in which the Sisters
were engaged, were destroyed.
England's famous "Opium War" with
China, 1S40-42, ended in a treaty which
provided for an indemnity from China of
52LO00.OOO; the ports of Canton, Am 03-,
Foo Chow, King Po and Shanghai
to 1)8 opened to trade, and Hong Kong
to he ceded to Great Britain. So far
as our government is concerned. Its in
tervention at-this crisis in China will be
limited to efforts for the protection of
the persons and property of American
citizens and the landing of armed
forces and dispatch of gunboats to fur
nish this protection in event of the
failure of the Chinese Government to
do so. Beyond this, doubtless the pow
ers of France, England, Germany and
Russia propose to go, but the United
States will act independently for Its
own Interests, upon the basis, estab
lished in the written "open door" com
pact. To the military operations
against Tien Tsin and Pekin the United
States will contribute some 300 ma
rines and sailors, and these will be at
once withdrawn when order is restbred
and the protection of Americans and
their property fairly assured for the
future.
THE 7TEW MONETARY liEGISLATIOJC.
It is objected to the reqent monetary
legislation that "Congress has turned
over to the banks the issue of money."
It is an unfounded statement. Na
tional banks are still permitted to Issue
notes, as during many years past, but
these notes are not money. They may
be and often are used as substitutes
for money, but they are not even legal
tender. Their value lies in the provis
ions made and enforced ior their re
demption in actual money In gold
coined by the Government.
It Is not a legitimate function of -government
to issue notes for circulation
as money though our Government Is
still doing It. All that government
should do is to control the banks which
issue notes, and see that they carry on
business In such way that noteholders
cannot be defrauded. There is no ne
cessity of going further than that, and
it is generally unsafe to do so, as we
have found in these United States
through our entire experience from the
times of the Revolution down to the
present day.
Since there are certain manifest ad
vantages In the use of paper currency,
which induce most people to give it
preference over actual or absolute
money so long as it can be redeemed
in demand In such money a govern
ment ought to take such precautions
as will assure the redemption of such
paper currency as its people use. This
is a legitimate function, and In the
present state of civilization a necessary
function, of government. But the im
mediate, responsibility for paper cur-,
rency, or substitutes for money, should
rest on private capital. For that rea
son all countries that wish to have their
currency on a sound basis have turned
over the issues of paper or credit cur
rency to banks, which are strictly regu
lated by law. Only in part, however,
has our country done this. Congress
has taken some steps in the right di
rection, by making better provision for
redemption of the country's promissory
notes and by making certain small
changes in the National banking law;
but Congress is still too timid, too much
afraid of popular ignorance and preju
dice, to take the Treasury out of the
note-Issuing business.
When a government Is In the note
issuing business, it Is exposed to con
stant temptations. Great numbers, who
believe that the Government can cre
ate the value of a dollar by calling a
piece of paper a dollar, clamor continu
ally for "more money." so as to "make
times easy" and every man comforta
ble. The nations which adhere to the
use of government "fiat" money are
generally those whose finances are in
worst shape. The states of Central and
South America are examples.
We shall not get our monetary sys
tem in the condition it ought to be, so
long as we continue the Issue of gov
ernment paper currency. The new leg
islation greatly checks the old abuse
and danger, and establishes many safe
guards against recurrence of the condi
tions that made former panics and up
set the business of the ccuntry, and It
doubtless goes as far as It was Judi
cious to go now. But there ought to be
no Government currency, doing duty as
legal tender, with the burden of re
demption on the Treasury. The panic
of 1893-91 shows what result that sort
of thing comes to. It was the logical
result, against which new barriers are
now established; but the Bryan party
attacks the barriers and wants to pull
them down.
TRADE FOLLOWS THE FARMER.
Marked decline In the stocks of rail
roads traversing the big w heat districts
of the Middle West, where the crop
damage has been serious, was a feature
of the stock market for the past week
or ten days. The Northern Pacific,
which, with its feeders, receives an
enormous business from the Dakotas
and Minnesota, was among the worst
of the sufferers, the stock moving up
and down as the changing crop reports
came good or bad. Confirmation of the
serious damage which even the belated
rains could not repair resulted In the
directors deciding on Friday to reduce
the semi-annual dividend to 1 per cent,
reserving the remainder of the surplus
profits for a possible deficit, which will
be in evidence If the worst reports of
crop damage should prove true.
There is nothing extraordinary in
this condition of affairs. Crop failures
have occurred before, and will. occur
again. The present case, however,
gives excellent illustration of the com
mon Interest which all lines of trade
have In the farmer's prosperity. Blat
ant demagogues go up and down the
land during hard times, when crops are
bad, and farmers naturally discour
aged, and by a false and pernicious
line of reasoning, endeavor to convince
them that they alone are suffering.
They would have the farmer believe
that the banker, the railroad owner,
the stockbroker and others In similar
pursuits are the natural enemies of the
tiller of the soil.
While the crop failure cannot be at
tributed to these alleged enemies of the
farmer, it incidentally serves to inten
sify the imaginary woes which the
faker conjures up. "The farmer feeds
us all," and on him the prosperity of
the Nation depends. The drought in
the Dakotas remains unbroken until it
is too late for the crop to be saved, and
Immediately the New York stockholder
in a wheat-hauling road finds his In
vestment "weakened and the shares pay
ing but 1 per cent. Retrenchment fol
lows as a matter of course, and many
train crews are laid off. The lake and
canal boatmen, from owner to deck
hand, feel the effect, and, as their pur
chasing powers are limited accordingly,
the merchant notes a falling off in his
trade. Fewer trains and boats mov
ing means lessened coal consumption,
and the working- force in the coal mines
is reduced to meet the changed condi
tions. The banker finds no market for
money with which to move; the crops,
when there are no crops to move. So it
goes, the bad luck of the farmer mak
ing its Influence felt in every avenue
of trade or Industry, the only exception
being the farmers and traders in more
favored localities. t
The wiieatgrowers of Oregon and
Washington are today Jubilant over
a rising wheat market, but they
are mounting to prosperity on the
misfortunes of the farmers of Ohio, In
diana, Minnesota and the Dakotas,
with valuable aid from famine-stricken
India. This is perhaps a system of
reciprocity, which nature practices at
times, for we can all remember when
crop damage and failure on the Pacific
Coast helped the Middle West farmer
in securing better prices for his crop.
XOT A 3CAX OF GENIUS.
The late Stephen Crane, the young
American novelist, who died recently
at Baden, Germany, is made the sub
ject of absurd panegyric by certain
leading journals of the East as a man
of genius. As a matter of fact, he was
merely a "yellow kid" Bohemian, of
some talent. The singular thing is that
Crane's reputation rests upon "The
Red Badge of Courage," which include?
a picture of the battle of Chancellors
ville as seen by a. private soldier. This
book has been extravagantly praised
for what his admirers termed a picture
of war with "the vividness and -fidelity
of a color photograph" painted by a
young man of 23, who had never seen
a battle. If a young man or an old
man who had, never been a. soldier
should make a literary color photo
graph, both vivid and faithful, of a
battle he had never seen it would cer
tainly he a very wonderful perform
ance; but this is exactly what Stephen
Crane failed to do in his "Red Badge
of Courage" and his minor sketches of
our Civil War. His "Red Badge of
Courage" Is full of vivid color sketches
of what purport to be battle scenes in
our Civil War; but these color sketches
are not photographs 'of our Civil War
or of the type American soldier of
the Union Army. To people who never
saw a battle and its horrors; who never
experienced the sensation of being ex
posed to the destructive fire of the
enemy, Stephen Crane's color sketches,
his attempted analysis of the emotions
of the charging soldier as he comes un
der the hall of musketry and the storm
of shell fire seem very vivid and realis
tic; but they arc utterly absurd to an
intelligent, truthful soldier, who was
on the firing line in any of the great
battles of our Civil War.
It would no more be necessary to tell
a fire-hardened Union veteran that the
author of "The Red Badge of Courage"
had never seen a battle than it would
be to tell an Intelligent veteran soldier
that the Rev. J. T. Headley or the Rev.
John S. C. Abbott had never seen any
of the battles ihey describe of the Na
poleonic Wars. It would not be neces
sary to tell an intelligent soldier who
read Napier's "History of the War In
the Spanish Peninsula" that Its author
was an experienced veteran soldier,
who had seen some of the battles be
tween Wellington and the great lieu
tenants of Napoleon. There is color
enough in Crane's war sketches. So
there is plenty of color in a Turkey
carpet; but it Is not a true picture,
much less a photograph of anything In
particular. Crane's Chancellorsville' Is
full of smoke and shout and rustling
flame, of volleys' roll and withering fire,
but ihese are more or less the features
of all great battles, and any "yellow
kid" Bohemian of superficial talent can
easily gather plenty of this kind of pig
ment for hl3 brush by reading Victor
Hugo's description of Waterloo; Tol
stoi's "War and Peace," and Zola's
"Debacle." When he has obtained
these pigments, however, he will not be
able to make vivid color photographs
of particular events; he will only be
able to make fancy color sketches of
wars and battles. Napier had the his
toric imagination, but he had also the
eye of a soldier and a military tacti
cian, strategist and engineer educated
by actual experience in and observa
tion of the conflicts and the campaigns
he painted -in colors that will never die.
When we pass from Crane's mad-cat
emotions of the American soldier,
whom he paints as fairly sweating
blood with fear and excitement as he
reaches the firing line, to his picture
of the American Union veteran in
camp, the absurdity of his warbook be
comes intolerable.
To illustrate: Crane, in one of his
highly praised war sketches, represents
two soldiers of a veteran regiment the
afternoon before the battle of Freder
icksburg indulging in a long flst fight In
camp to settle some trivial difference.
The soldiers of the Army of the Poto
mac in December, 1863, were nearly all
disciplined veterans, who had been in
the field upwards of a year, and had
become thorough soldiers. Fist fights
to settle differences are not allowed in
a real army that has been enacting real
war for more than a year. Soldiers
who behave like angry schoolboys are
promptly put under arrest and pun
ished; but Stephen Crane pictures our
veterans the night before Fredericks
burg as habitually resorting to fisti
cuffs without any Interruption or pun
ishment on part of their officers. And
this Is the kind of novelist that is pro
nounced a man of "a real if not profuse
strain of genius" by the Springfield
Republican and the New York Sun.
Talent the man had, but it was chiefly
a talent for a kind of literary affec
tation and mannerism that Inspired
the suspicion that the writer had lived
too exclusively upon a mixed diet of
morphine, alcohol and cigarettes.
THE INDIAN'S FUTURE.
Francis B. Leupp contributes under
the head of "Improvement, Not Trans
formation," a valuable paper to the
Southern Workman upon Indian edu
cation. He takes the ground that the
elimination of the race characteristics
from the Indian gives us a human
product which is "neither the one thing
nor the other"; a sort of neuter in the
human family, for which there Is no
place in community or industrial life
a nondescript in nature, a fifth wheel,
so to speak, to the coach of practical
endeavor. - In the estimation of this
writer, one of the errors the chief one,
it would Eeem Into which many good
people fall In dealing with the Indian
on an educational basis, Is that their
first duty is to make a white man of
him. They are unmindful of the fact
that nature, having set a different
physical stamp upon different races of
men, extends the variation of types
below the surface in mental and moral
traits. No intelligent teacher in Hamp
ton Institute, for example, need be
warned not to confuse the Indian with
the negro in his system of training.
The contrast betw.een the latter, with
his pliant fancy, his cheerful spirit un
der adversity, his emotional demon
strativeness, his natural Impulse to obe
dience, and his imitative tendency, and
the former, with his Intense pride of
race, his reserved habit, his cumulative
sense of wrong and his scorn for the
antl-patriarchial ways of the modern
world, is as marked as that between
sunshine and shadow.
Not less plain Is the line, not of clv-4
illzation and convention, but the line
of nature, between the Indian and the
white man. "What good end," asks the
writer that makes this presentment,
"shall we serve by trying to blot out
these distinctions?" "How Is either
party to be benefited by the oblitera
tion?" And when he adds that, "hav
ing done our best to make the Indian
over Inio a white teas, we li&ve-simply
succeeded Ih making a. nondescript of
him," he Makes a statement that the
observation, of Intelligent men, fully
indorses.
To tarn -the forces of nature into the
best channels by wisely directing: them
is productive, of good results; to undo
nature's work and do it over again Is ta
bungle and stumble and fall of achieve
ment. The horticulturist does not up
root a tree which offers a sturdy stock
and produces inferior fruit, but corrects
by grafting the defect in fruitage,
while preserving the parent trunk to
give added excellence to the product.
The extent to which the Idea of expunging-
everything Indian from the
Indian through education is illustrated
in the 'suggestion, made, it is said, by
a thoughtful person when examining
specimen Navajo blankets, that "a fund
be raised lor supplying the Navajos
with modern looms so as to build up
their special Industry." The Navajo
blanket, it is needless to say, derives
its chief value n6ifrom being a blan
ket, but from being the exact product
that it is, of coarse wool, dyes from the
Janoratory of nature, and devices
'worked from the fancy of the weaver.
The rude loom in which it was woven
was made from saplings cut and fast
ened together by the Indian woman;
the warp war strung by her hands;
she sheared and carded, spun and dyed
the many-colored threads of her woof.
She wove the design from her own
fancy, following and needing no other
pattern. The question, "At what point
can we break Into this chain and sub
stitute a foreign link without destroy
ing the character of the whole?" Is a
pertinent one. Navajo blankets turned
out by a modern loom! The sugges
tion would be ludicrous were it not
made in true sincerity. Being thus
made, it becomes startling as an indi
cation of the trend of much of the
philanthropic effort that is being made
looking to the transformation rather
than the Improvement of the Indian
race. Concluding his paper, Mr. Leupp
says:
I like the Indian for -what Ja. Indian in him.
I want to see his splendid Inherited physique
kept up, because he glories, like his ancestors.
In Xresh air. In freedom. In activity. In feata
of strength. I want him to retain all his old
contempt for hunger, thirst, cold and danger
when be has anything to do. I have no sym
pathy with the sentiment which would throw
the squaws' beadbox Into the rubbish-heap
and set her to making race. Teach her lace
mxklng, by all means. Just as you would teach
her bread-making, as an addition to her stock
of profitable accomplishments; but don't set
down her twaded raocaosins aa barbarous, while
holding up her race handkerchief as a symbol
of advanced civilization.
OUR PRKSIDEJJTIAIi TfOMDTATING
SYSTEM.
The adoption of the Federal Consti
tution framed in Philadelphia intro
duced for the first time the election of
National officers. Washington was the
sole candidate for the Presidency in
1788 and In 1792, being nominated, so
to speak, by general consent. But In
regard to the Vice-Presidency in 178S,
there was no previous agreement, as is
shown by the scattered vote of the elec
toral colleges. In 1792 it was generally
understood that the electors opposed to
Hamilton's financial policy would vote
for George Clinton, as there were only
four scattering votes for Vice-President,
all the rest of the electors voting
either for Adams or Clinton. In 1796
Adams and Jefferson were the recog
nized candidates of the Federalist and
Republican parties for the Presidency;
but there was some secret electioneer
ing on the part of Hamilton to pre
vent the selection of Adams, who
charged him with intriguing to prevent
his nomination for Vice-President and
with striving to get Thomas Plnkney
chosen) President.
In 1800 the candidates of both parties
were nominated at caucuses of party
members of. the two houses of Con
gress. The Republican caucus, held In
May, 1800, at Philadelphia, was attend
ed by forty-three members of Congress,
"besides many distinguished citizens."
The same caucus put forward Burr as
the Republican candidate for Vice
President. The Federalist caucus of 1800
Is reported to have been held probably
In the Senate chamber In the early part
of the year. While caucuses of mem
bers of Congress for the purpose of
nominating candidates for the Presi
dency and Vice-Presidency were cer
tainly held In 1800 and probably in 1796,
It was not until 1804 that the first reg
ularly called meeting for that avowed
end took place. From that time until
1824 the Congress caucus was the reg
ular nominating machinery. The or
ganization and procedure of such a
caucus were the same as obtain at a
joint caucus of the party1 members of
the two houses of a state Legislature at
the present day, held for nomination of
a candidate for United States Senator.
Throughout this period the party can
didates for Presidential Electors were
all nominated at a joint caucus of party
members of the state Legislature.
From the beginning the system of
nomination by Congress caucus had
much opposition to encounter. In 1812
the so-called "peace" Republicans, who
favored the candidacy of De Witt Clin
ton, declared that "the nomination of
a candidate for the Presidency of the
United States by an association of
members of Congress, convened at the
seat of government, is hostile to the
spirit of the Federal Constitution, dan
gerous to the rights of the people and
to the freedom of election," and Clinton
was nominated for the Presidency by a
caucus of the Republican members of
the New York Legislature. Subse
quently he was chosen as the Federalist
candidate, also at aji irregular conven
tion of Federalist delegates from dif
ferent stages, held in New York City.
The Republican Congress caucus of 1816
aroused the ma3& of the people against
the system. James Monroe was ulti
mately made the candidate, hut Will
iam H. Crawford, of Georgia, a man
whom the people at large had never
thought of for President, came near to
obtaining the Republican caucus nomf
nation, which was, at that time, equiv
alent to election.
With the era of good feeling which
began with Monroe's second election,
in 1820, there came a lull In the opposi
tion to the Congress "caucus, but in 1822
the first open protest against the sys
tem was the nomination of Andrew
Jackson for the Presidency by an In
formal meeting of the members of the
Tennessee Legislature In August of
that year. Henry Clay was nominated
at a similar meeting of the members
of the Kentucky Legislature in Novem
ber, 1822. In, April, 1823,. a caucus of
the Republican members of the New
York Legislature adopted a set of res
olutions urging the convocation of a
Congress caucus in 1824. The Leglsla-
tures of Tennessee, Maryland and Ala-
bama passed resolutions condemning
the Congress caucus system, which
was defended by Legislative caucuses
of the Republican members in Maine
and Virginia. Mass meetings of the
people were Ijeld.. all over the country,
4,,- ff.l.L Mt.O.tt.V.. .K.A.I.. M.U..J ...kit I
Ing upon, members of Congress sot to
attend such a. caacus la 1S24. By Feb
ruary 11, 1824, it became evident that
a large majority of the Representa
tives were opposed to the holding of a
caucus, and that they would no at
tend one, were it held, A call was is
sued on February 6, signed by eleven,
members of Congress. Out of 216 Re
publican members, however, but 66 at
tended, and of these, all but four cast
their votes for William H. Crawford for
President, in whose interest the caucus
had been called. At the election in the
following November the people repudi
ated the Congress caucus system at the
polls, and no serious attempt was ever
made to revive it.
In the campaign of 1828 the candi
dates were nominated by state Legis
latures, state Legislative caucuses,
public meetings and irregular conven
tions of the people. In 1832 the con
fused and irregular system of state
nominations of candidates for the Pres
idency gave way to the National con
vention which is in vogue today. The
nomination of candidates foiAhe Pres
idency and Vice-Presidency by resolu
tions of state Legislatures wag not
entirely abandoned even after the
adoption of the National convention, In
1832, for in 1833 Hugh L. White was
nominated for the Presidency by a
joint resolution of the Alabama Legis
lature, and John C. Calhoun In 1842 was
nominated by the Legislatures of South
Carolina and Georgia as a candidate
for the election of 1844. John Qulncy
Adams waB nominated in January, 1823,
at a "joint meeting" of the Republican .
members of the Massachusetts Legis
lature and of Republican delegates of
the various towns In the commonwealth
not represented In the Legislature.
When missionaries go far away from
the sea coasts and the few treaty ports
Into the Interior of China, among a hos
tile population, they cannot expect that
our Government will he able to afford
them Immediate protection In their
various and distant fields of labor.
Their only guarantee of safety in trou
bled times Is to return to the capital or
to the coast, where the home Govern
ment can afford them some diplomatic
or military protection. No government
has arms long enough and strong
enough to protect the lives and prop
erty of missionaries at all jJmes, wher
ever they may go. It Is the height of
absurdity for them to place themselves
in any barbarous country beyond the
pale of protection 6f their government.
As late as 1870 there was a wholesale
massacre of foreigners by the anti
foreign mob of Tien Tsin, which is but
fifty miles up the Pel Ho River. Play
ing the part of Fathers Lallemand and
Jouges, who faced death and found It
at the hands of the Mohawks in the
seventeenth century, is a needless, use
less, inexcusable sacrifice today of val
uable lives. The King of France could
not save these heroic Jesuits from the
consequences of their exposure to mar
tyrdom at the hands of the Mohawks.
This the Jesuits knew, so they did not
expect it. Our Government cannot
save distant missionaries from the con
sequences of their Quixotic enthusiasm,
and yet they seem to expect It.
The Vice-Presidency will be decided
wholly on the ground of availability.
It Is significant that in the discussion
at Philadelphia no person has so far
been seriously considered because he
has a barI. Geographical location and
personaT fitness and experience are the
requisites. The objection to Long Is
that he comes from New England and
Is a member of McKinley's Cabinet.
We are to have McKinley, but the pro
prieties require that we have otherwise
a new deal. Fairbanks Is from Indiana,
next door to Ohio, and it may be sup
posed that a sentiment for a wider dis
tance between the candidates will pre
vail. New York could have it, if its
delegation were to demand Roosevelt
or any other candidate with unanim
ity, energy and sincerity. The Dolllver
boom Is becoming formidable, because
Iowa Is .far enough from Ohio, and the
entire Congressional delegation from
that state, Including Allison and
Speaker Henderson, is for him. Iowa's
voice in Republican counsels is now
adays most potent. The objection to
Dolllver that his age Is only 42 years,
and that he is therefore only one-half
as old as some of the Senators over
whom he will preside, will not be strong1
enough to lose the ticket many votes.
It will be many years before Dolllver
reaches the age of Senatorial Indiscre
tion. The gathering of the pioneers this
year was a notable one, numerically
and otherwise. The attendance was
much larger than in many former
years The spirit of fraternity and of
hospitality are contagious. The former
has spread among the pioneers of the
state, making them look forward
eagerly to the pleasures of the annual
reunion, while the latter, growing In
response to increasing demand, comes
forward to entertain them full-handed.
While death has been busy in their
ranks for years, thinning them per
ceptibly, the scene in the banquet hall
at the pavilion Friday evening from 5
to 7 o'clock revealed the fact that there
Is yet among us a goodly number of
state-builders
Against whose familiar names not yet
Tha fatal asterisk of death Is set .
.
Who appreciate and are able to enjoy
the comforts of life as represented in
social intercourse and table cheer.
The County of Multnomah and the
City of Portland cannot be consoli
dated. Talk to that effect, which has
been renewed at intervals during thirty
or forty years, is always absurd. The
city cannot be extended to the county
limits, and the county cannot be re
duced to the city limits, for the Consti
tution of the state declares that no
county shall have an area of legs than
400 square miles.
It may be opined that Mrs. William
Henry Jones, of Utah, will be some
what lonely as a delegate to the Na
tional Republican Convention. More
lonely, perhaps, than Mr. William
Henry Jones, enjoying his solitude at
the domestic hearth.
Croker Is speeding home as fast as a
swift trans-Atlantic steamship will
carry him. But he's too late. When
the old Tammany tomcat Is away the
Van Wycks will play.
Augustus Van Wyck is not much of
a Bryan man, but he Insists on going
to Kansas City. Perhaps he expects to
get the ice concession for the conven
tion. Mr. Hanna has no candidate for Vice
President; but he's agl'n Tim Wood
ruff. The. genial Tim might as well
conslder"hImseIf dead.
SLINGS AKD ARROWS.
The Omniscient.
On brightly lighted restrains., and in-decorated
halls.
Where pictures of our heroes hang la glory oa
the. walls,
Come forth the gladsome graduates, diplomas
In their hands.
And share with us the wisdom .that la culled
from many lands, '
They've "crossed the threshold of the school,"
their "sprouting Wings have grown."
And now their "certain footsteps lead into the
vast unknown."
No longer must they work or play at teachers'
beck, and call.
They're ready now to face the world, because
they know It all.
They've "realised the happy dreams of idle
childhood days,"
And now they're "standing at the gate where
part the winding ways";
And some have "chosen their careers" and
some "still stand in doubt,"
But none will "ever stray the path" when once
they've found It out.
But with a "steadfast gaze ahead, determined
to succeed,"
They'll "write their message on the vails, that
he who runs may read."
No visions of "life's bitter strife" their glow
ing souls appall.
For who are they but graduates, who simply
know it all?
And some there be who rather choose great
poems to declaim.
Than on their "message to thu world" to base
their right to fame;
With hands upon their breasts they stand, and
tcH In burning words
How Norvai's father on the hills sought fodder
for his herds.
How Spartacus in days of old stirred up a hot
old strike,
And Sheridan oa. foaming steed came scorch
ing down the pike.
As well as how Lord Wolseley took to heart
his sudden fau
lt's good to hear the graduates, because they
know It oil.
Perhaps next fall the thrilling tongues that now
our feelings stir
Will be employed In shouting "cash!" at seven
fifty per;
Perhaps the hands that point the spot -where
M. Bozzarls fell
"Will bear a pitcher through the hall of some
down-town hotel;
But, Just the same, the rosy hope with which
their visions glow
Is worth as much as many kinds of wisdom
here below;
And may the castles they" have reared ne'er
totter to their fall,
God bless the hopeful graduates, although they
know it alll
Gentlemen Unafraid.
Those Tacoma enumerators who have
been giving out Information about tho
population of that settlement will proba
bly be sent to jail for their loquacity; but
it is not likely that Jail has any terrors
for people who had to live in Tacoma.
Afterward.
After the war Is over.
After the fight Is fought.
After the last Boer leader
Is kopjelzed and caught.
Still must we keep on reading.
Whether we choose or not.
Columns and columns and columns
Of Alfred Austin's rot.
"What He Was Good For.
Thompson That boy of Smith's hopes to
succeed as a writer, and he turns out
the most childish and Idiotic trash I ever
clapped eyes on.
Joanson Ho's all right. He'll make a
hit some day writing the words to pop
ular songs.
Answers to Correspondents.
W. McK. Yes.
W. J. B. No.
Sport James J. Jeffries.
W. A S. Not this year. Try it again in
193a
Beatrice Put a little prussic acid in his
coffee.
Tom Four of a kind.
Sweet Young Thing No. Walt till ho
asks you.
Professor Why don't you look lit the dic
tionary? Inquirer July 4, 1775.
Gold Brick Broker His present address
is Butte, Mon-t.
Litterateur William Shakespeare and
Alfred Austin.
Diner Out No. Eat it with a fork.
Nancy L. What Hobson?
Historian Christopher Columbus.
Anti-Imperialist He is not yet dead.
Ice Consumer Twelve cents an ounce.
On the Yang Tii River.
By tho shores of tho Tang Tsi River,
Where the rice fields stretch away,
There was wont to float in an open boat
A cheerful boy who was called Chung Coy,
And who fished and fished all day.
And the shores of the Tang Tsi River
Resounded for far and near
With the fisher's song as he'd float along.
Which he sang In the key that Is known as g.
And his song was sweet to hear.
But the fish in the Tang Tsi River
Were heavy and sad at heart.
For well they knew 'twas too too true
That soon or late they must meet their fate,
Beguiled by the fisher's art.
In the depths of the Tang Tst River,
Where the moss and the green needs grew,
A fish there swam with demeanor calm.
Who was twice as large as a big rice barge.
And whose name was Lung Jung Foo.
As he fished In the Tang Tsi River,
One happy Summer day.
The joung Chung Coy felt a thrill of Joy,
For he had a bite which was full of might.
And prepared for great big prey.
And the face of the Tang Tsi River
Was lashed into surging foam.
Which was rough to view, by Lung Jung Foo,
Who had no mind to leave behind
His happy river home.
And the banks of tho Tang Tsi River
Echoed aloud tho call
Of the frightened boy who was called Chung
Coy,
And v ho sought too late to communicate
That he'd made too big a haul.
The fish in the Tang Tsi River
Now peacefully may swim.
About a, heap In the water's deep.
Which was once a boy who was called Chung
Coy,
For they fear no more harm from him.
Why He Rejected It.
The poet entered the sanctum and stood
timidly before the editor. Attracted by
tho shuffle' of his uneasily shifting feet,
the editor looked up. The poet said:
- "Here are a few lines which I"
"Dashed off, I presume," interrupted
tho editor.
"No, sir," said the poet, "which 1 con
structed with a great deal of painful la
bor." "Umph." growled the editor, "let me see
them." Ho stretched forth his hand and
took tho verses, and this is what he read:
Down In the fields where the bluebirds sing.
All the happy Summer day.
Where the sunbeams oft are lingering.
And the gentle zephyrs play;
Where the daisies toss their white-crowned
heads'.
And mock at grief and care,
And the brier rose Its perfume sheds,
On the velvet Summer air;
Where the brown thrush carols forth'hls song,
In Jojous minstrelsy, ,
TIs there I'd live the who. day long,
Tlntrammeled, happy, free.
The oditor looked .up wearily into the
poet's eager face. He again became aware
that the paste was sour, and that he had
lost his scissors. He again heard the
harsh voice of the foreman shouting
"copy" down the chute. He had forgot
ten these things for the moment, and was
thinking of the bright fields and shady
pastures he had known in his boyhood.
The lines had brought them all back to
him. The poet stepped forward hopefully,
but the editor handed him his lines.
"Don't sou know that brown thrushes
never sing outside the woods?" he said.
J. J. MONTAGUE.
MASTERPIECESOFLITERATURE-XVII
"The Deserted Village" Oliver Goldsmith
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.
Where health and plenty cheerd the laboring
swain.
Where smiling spring its earliest, visit paid.
And parting summer's lingering blooms de
lay d:
Dear lovely bowers of innocenco and ease,
Seats of my youth, when every sport could
please.
How often, have I lolter'd o'er thy green.
Whero humble happiness endeared each scene I
How often have I paused on every charm.
The sheltered cot. the cultivated farm.
The never-falling brook, the busy mill.
The. decent church that topt the neighboring
hilL
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath tha
shade.
For talking age and whlsperlrg lovers made!
How often have I blest the coming day.
When toll remitting lent Its turn to play.
And all the village train, from labor free.
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;
Whtlo many a pastime circled in the shado.
The young contending as the old surveyed;
And many a gambol frollc'd o'er the ground.
And slights of art and feats of strength went
round:
And still as each repeated pleasure tired.
Succeeding sports the mirthful hand inspired;
The dancing pair that simply sought renown
By holding out to tire each other down;
The swain mlstrustless ct his smutted face.
While secret laughter tltterd round the place,
The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love.
The matron's glance that would those lookf
reprove:
These were thy- charms, sweet village! sports,
Uko these
With sweeet succession, taught e'tn toll t
please;
These round thy bowers their cheerful laflu
ence shed,
These were thy charms hut all these charnu
are fled.
Sweet smiling village. loveliest of the lawn.
Thy sports ara fled, and all thy charms wlth
drawn 1
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand Is seen.
And desolation saddens all thy green:
One only master grasps the whole domain.
And half a. tillage stints thy smiling plain.
No more the grassy brook reflects the day.
But, chocked with sedges, works its weedj
way;
Along thy glades, a solitary guest.
The. hollow-sounding bittern guards Its nest;
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies.
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries:
Sunk are thy bowers In shapeless ruin all.
And the long gras3 o'ertbps the mouldering
wall;
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's
hand.
Far, far away thy children leave the land.
In all my wanderings round this world of
care,
In all my grlf s and God has given my share
1 still had hopes, my latest hours to crown.
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me- dorra;
To husband out life's taper at the close.
And keep the flame from wasting by repose:
I still had hopes for pride attends us still
Amidst the swains to shew my book-learn'd
skill.
Around my fire an evening group to draw, .
And tell of all I felt and all I saw;
And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pur-
ouo.
Pants to the place from whence at first she
flew,
I still had hopes, my long vexations past.
Here to return and die at home at last.
Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's
close,
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose;
There, as I past with careless steps and slow.
The mingling notes came soft'd from below;
The swain responsive as the mllk-mald sung.
The sober herd that Iowd to meet their young;
The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool.
The playful children Just let loose from school;
The watch-dog's voice that bay"d the whisper
ing wind.
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant
mind,
These all In sweet confusion sought the shade.
And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
But now the sounds of population fall;
No cheerful murmurs fluctuate In the gale.
No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread.
But all the bloomy flush of life Is fled,
All but yon wldowd, solitary thing.
That feebly bends beside the plashy spring;
She, wretched matron, forced in age. for bread.
To strip tho brook with mantling cresses
spread.
To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn.
To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn;
She only left of all the harmless train.
The sad historian of the pensive plain.
Near yonder copse, where onco the tardea
smiled.
And still where many a. gardenrflower grows
wild.
There, with a few torn shrubs the place dis
close. The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear.
And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;
Remote from towns he rn his godly race.
Nor o'er had changed, nor wish'd to change,
his place
Unskillful he to fawn, or seek for power.
By doctrines fashlon'd to the varying hour;
Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize.
More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
His house was known to all the vagrant train.
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their
pain;
The long-remember'd beggar wa3 his guest.
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud.
Cialm'd kindred there, and had his claims
allow' d;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay.
Sat by his fire, and talk'd the night away.
Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered his crutch, and show'd how fields
were won.
Pleased with his guests, the good man learn'd
te glow.
And quite forgot their vices In their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan.
His pity gave ere charity began.
Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride.
And e'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side;
But In his duty prompt at every call.
He watch'd and wept, he pray'd and felt, lor
all; " '
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies.
He tried each art, reproed each dull delay.
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Beside the bed where parting life was laid.
And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dlsmay'd.
The re erend champion stood. At his control.
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down the trembling wretch ta
raise.
And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise.
At church, with meek and unaffected grace.
His looks adorn'd the renerable place;
Truth from his Up3 prevall'd with double sway.
And fools who came to scoff remain'd to pray.
The service past, around the pious man.
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;
E'en children follow'd, with endearing wile,
And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's
smile.
His ready smile a parent's warmth express'd;
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares
distress'd;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs wer9
given.
But all his serious thoughts had rest In heaven.
As some tall cliff that lifts Its awful form.
Swells from the ale, and midway leaves tho
storm.
Though round Its breast the rolling clouds are
spread,
Hternal sunshine settles n Its head.
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts th
way.
With blossom'd furze, unprofltably gay.
There In his noisy mansion, sklll'd to rule.
The village master taught his little school.
A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew;
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to tracs
The day's disasters In his morning face;
Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee,
At all his Jokes, for many a Joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd.
Tet he was kind, or. If severe In aught.
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declared how much he knew,
T was certain he could write and cipher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides
presage.
And e'en the story ran that he could gauge:
In arguing, too. the parson own'd his skill.
For e'en though vanqulsh'd, he could argue
still;
While words of learn'd length and thund'rlnj
sound.
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around;
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew
That one small head could carry all he knew.
,l.-!,,