you can make your complaint as strong as you like when I am through. We Socialists hold to the principle of human equality, whether man comes direct from the one father Adam, or from the slower process of evolution from the protoplasmic cell. As good Christians or Darwinians, we must not forget the common origin and brotherhood of man. But you do forget, and, as you do, the human race suffers thereby. You remember your own birth, the time, place, and circumstances of your early life, and according to your isolation or ignorance, the importance of these facts is exaggerated. A family name, the invisible county line the width of the road, the river, or mountain, the color of your skin is all sufficient to render the accident of birth an unending justification of your contempt and hate of your brother. I am an American! hear the eagle scream, aye hear the jackass bray. He's an Irishman, a Dutchman, a Dago, a nigger. The socialist looks with pity, with regret, upon the ignorance that will so magnify or belittle such an accident. I am a king, prince, a noble, a millionaire, a professor, a manager, foreman, a skilled mechanic, a laborer; each in turn looking up or down at each other. How stupidly ignorant, and wicked, this artificial scale, whose units turn from dust to dirt! What a denial of the brotherhood, of the oneness of humanity! Horace Greeley said that we need the consciousness that individuals are but drops in the rivulets whose ocean is humanity; that the greatest that ever lived are but fragments and particles of manhood. Whether blackened by the fervid sun of tropical desert, or bleached by the fogs of a colder clime, a Christian or savage, a Washington or a thug, the same essential nature reveals itself through all. That the lot in which the life of each is cast, makes all the shades of difference between the red-handed savage and the gentle village pastor. Each might and could be the other in his place. This conception of man is fundamental in socialism. We hear you talk of the brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of God, and then see you in your everyday practical way, outwit your brother, deceive him, let him deceive himself to your profit, buy and sell him in the marts of trade, harvest from his poverty and necessity, do him to death that you may profit thereby. This may sound harshly, but believe me it is tame, compared with the grim reality. You have taken the baby from the mother's breast, compelled the father and mother to carry it to the factory, made it a part of the machine it tends the weary livelong day. Away from the sun, air, and flowers, it grows up bloodless, deformed, your crippled victim, your brother or sister. Down they go into the bowels of the earth, kicked and beaten by naked, brutalized men, the naked child and naked mother chained to the wagons, hauling them on all fours through the narrow passages that lead to the light. Into the tumble-down, murderous fire-traps of our great cities, with out light or air, suffocating with sickening and poisonous odors, you crowded old age and infancy, sodden indecency with inquiring innocence. Up into the tenement, fifty families together, six to sixteen in a family, six to eight persons of both sexes in sleeping-rooms eight by eight feet. Two hundred human souls in a space fourteen by forty feet. Then force in upon this congested mass of humanity the poisonous tobacco weed, and the cloth for vests, coats, and pants, and have these poor wretches fold and stitch into these things their own bodies and souls, and the germs of the filthiest disease, and place these goods on the backs and the cigars in the mouths of the innocent multitude. Pay the girl so meanly that she must barter honor for the needed loaf of bread, terrify her with the fear of discharge or refusal of work, so that she submits to your animal embrace, or to that of your manager or foreman. Give the child worker ten cents per day and the father five cents per hour for the wealth they thus bring you, and, flushed with your sense of masterful power, bid your hireling dress himself as a flunky, shaped and colored to suit your cultivated taste; dress her so none will mistake the servant for the mistress; order him to shave off his whiskers or moustache as your fancy suggests; bid him when, where, and what he shall drink; put your sign on his forehead, on his breast and body, so that all men shall know the thing belongs to you; deny him the right to vote or to permit any one to nominate him for political position or to vote for him; refuse him the chance to labor for bread; send him adrift a homeless tramp; then turn, and count your gains by thousands and millions, then in the house of God bend your knees in humble thanks for these blessed gifts of wealth and power, and ask for rest and mercy for yourself and for yours. The socialist sees all this, and listens to your prattle about brotherly love and patriotism; sees you do honor to the memory of the Revolutionary heroes whose sacrifices and swords carved out this republic; sees you, wrapped in the folds of "Old Glory,” lift into the eyes of the czars, Cæsars, emperors, kings, and potentates of the earth, the legend, “All men are born equal," "A government of, by, and for the people." They laugh, and we groan, at the mockery. They review their armies. We turn the page of American history, and hear the crack of the slavedriver's whip, the protest of Garrison, the howl of rage that followed it, the murder of Lovejoy and Brown, the slave-owner's blow on the head of Charles Sumner, the cannon shot at Fort Sumter, the funeral dirge on Decoration Day; and from these records of yesterday we look into the to-morrow, and we see in the east and west, north and south, the toilers come from the mine, field, factory, and shop, urged by injustice to madness, and high above them, right in the center, you stand, owners of all the fields and mines, factories and shops. All is yours, even the laborers. You offer praise to Him above, so that all below may hear you, and think that his is the glory and his the shame. You bid them trust in Him, but you trust Him not, for in between you and the masses you have created swamps and morasses of ignorance, planted the higher ground with the prickly cactus of superstition, and nearer again to you are the clubs and revolvers of the police, the terrors of your laws, and nearer yet the modern military, volcanoes, ready to vomit destruction, should the masses ever come so far; and so you rest as peacefully as you can, eat, drink, and are merry as can be. And so lived the barons of old. But the day came to them. Out of the valleys, over deeper ignorance and superstition, over the mail-clad bodies of mercenaries, came the wave of simple workers, so low and despised that their masters bid them eat grass; up and over the heights they came, and when they returned to their lowly homes, the baron's headless trunk was in the ditch, the roof of his grand castle was in fragments in the valley below, and only the frowning and gaping walls were left to tell the story of vengeance. The smoke of battle still hangs over the valleys of the Sunny South; the tears of the widow are not yet dry; the shattered body of the veteran is still in our public places, and you are making ready for a more frightful conflict with your brothers than the world has ever seen. You laugh at the Socialist who comes with the palm of common sense, asking you to aid in bringing into the everyday life of man the recognition of equality and humanity, a simple manhood, that would bring the science that can count and measure the stars, that can weigh worlds, and harness the giant forces of nature to man's use, down to the simple problem of the organization of labor and the equitable distribution of its products, so that, so long as the sun shines, and the rain falls, and the earth yields its treasures to man's labor, no one shall be hungry, none lacking in the opportunity for the fullest development of his manhood. That in place of the sordid spirit of Mammon and greed for the power of individual wealth, we shall lift above all the love of man for man; the love that on the sinking ship saves the children, saves the mothers, saves the passengers, saves the crew, and last of all turns to save self. Again you smile and turn to your text of everyday life, which plainly reads, "Everyone for himself, and the devil take the hindmost." The captain first into the life-boat. "Let him take who hath the chance, Let him keep who can." You set this forth as the great and inseparable element in human nature, and then, on your knees, you murmur, "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." THOMAS J. MORGAN. CHICAGO, ILL. A of Assassins, The Order of the, arti- Bad Philosophy Going to Seed, Balfour's, James Arthur James, Barnes', W. E., Canonical and Un- Berle, A. A., Semitic and Oriental Books Received, 208, 384, 586. Brünnow's, R., Chrestomathy of C Cairns', Christ the Central Evi- Rome, inimical to liberty, 387; workman, 418; and of enlarging Charity, notes on, 564, 750. Christian Sociology, Oberlin Insti- Close Communion, article on, by a III. Commons', John R., The Distribu- Comprehensive Teachers' Bible, Corporations, The Relation of, to |