Page images

conference of English churchmen in 1604; it was not until three years later that the scholars selected for the undertaking went seriously to work on their great task. They were men of wide divergences of opinion, but they were large-minded in their attitude toward their work, and they combined sound scholarship with deep literary feeling. The moment was fortunate; for the splendid eloquence of the great translations of the sixteenth century, which were in their way as noble works of literature as the plays and poems of Shakspere's contemporaries, without parting with its strength and richness had made vast gains in simplicity and clearness. The language had not yet become literary, "fetlocked by dictionary and grammar mongers"; it was in its most vital stage of growth; to quote Lowell, "every hidden root of thought, every subtlest fiber of

wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, "The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.'"

The three hundredth anniversary of the birth of this great text-book of English faith, speech, and morals is being commemorated in many impressive ways wherever the language is spoken; the greatest recognition of its incalculable service to civilization would be a fresher and wider study of its majestic and liberating ideas, its noble and inspiring English.



feeling, was mated by new shoots and leaf- FEW if any of the great men of history

age of expression, fed from those unseen sources in the common earth of human nature."

The translation, finished in 1611, became at once a text-book of national life. Earlier and incomplete English versions of the Bible had been read by crowds of people in English churches and homes, but the translation of 1611 became, as Green has said, "the noblest example of the English tongue, while its perpetual use made. it from the instant of its appearance the standard of our language."

Its influence is evident in nearly all the greater English writers and in the American writers as well; for it was the most precious possession brought to the New World by the English settlers who laid the foundations of the American commonwealth. Under its influence Bunyan's work became "a well of English undefiled"; almost three centuries later Ruskin recorded at length his great indebtedness to the English Bible; while in a country which was just beginning to hear English spoken by insignificant groups of people when that Bible was given to the world, Lincoln gave the spirit of the New Testament the simple and solemn majesty of expression of the Old Testament. As the sun rose over the field of Dunbar Cromwell cried: "Let God arise, and let his enemies be scattered"; in his second Inaugural Address Lincoln said: "Yet, if God wills that it continue until all the


rightful place in the estimate of the world as Abraham Lincoln, and this fact is all the more remarkable when among the participants in this acclaim have been representative men of the South who during four years had held him up to personal execration. The verdict of greatness was speedily confirmed by the entire world, and now, half a century after his first inauguration, there is no sign of diminution or detraction of his fame. His official biography has been nobly written by his private secretaries, and the public never tires of what is printed of him in the memoirs and reminiscences of his contemporaries, knowing that, as Tennyson said of Wellington,

Whatever record leap to light
He never shall be shamed.

There remains to give adequate expression to the world's regard in outward and visible forms. In sculpture this has been done by Saint-Gaudens in his standing and seated statues in Chicago (the latter, unhappily, not yet in position), and now by French in his figure for Lincoln's namesake, the capital of Nebraska, and by others. Painting has yet done little more than hold the features of the Emancipator in their actuality: the ideal note of great graphic art has not yet touched his mem


The time has now come to decide what form is to be given to the national memorial in Washington, and, particularly, whether it is to be so placed as to contribute in the highest degree to the permanent honor of Lincoln and to the credit of the American people. The commission to whom the determination of these important details has been intrusted is composed of men devoted to the memory of Lincoln and sure to approach their duties with the highest motives, and criticism of them in advance of their action is greatly to be deprecated. That the problem is, preeminently, an artistic one, as affecting the beauty and the appropriateness of the monument itself and its relation to the esthetic character of the city of Washington, is recognized by the fact that the decision of the Memorial Commission is subject to the advice of the Commission of Fine Arts. After this has been given the final decision is to be made by Congress. Thus provision is made for the fullest consideration of all points of view.

Two conflicting plans for the placing of the monument have been proposed: first, that of the Burnham-McKim-Saint-Gaudens-Olmsted Commission, which, in accordance with a systematic, expert, wellconsidered and far-reckoning project for the arrangement of the public grounds and buildings of the city, would place the memorial on the axis of the Capitol and the Washington monument, to the west of the latter, on the banks of the Potomac at the entrance of a proposed new memorial bridge across the river. In accordance with this dignified and symmetrical scheme the Government already has erected two buildings beside the imposing central Mall and contracts for three others have recently been let, and it would seem little less than a national calamity to throw away any part of so magnificent and well articulated a plan except for overwhelming reasons-a plan which was conceived with a view to the development of the most beautiful of our American cities, in which the whole country takes pride. In favor of this location is the well-nigh

unanimous body of American artistic opinion.

The other suggestion is that the memorial should be placed between the Capitol and the handsome new railway-station on the left of the avenue leading down the slope. The arguments for this decision are non-artistic--what, by a curious inversion, are called "practical," as though the views of architects were perforce unpractical-and relate chiefly to the convenience of visitors and the immediate challenge of Lincoln's fame to their attention. These considerations are entitled to be taken into account, but it is easy to give them a disproportionate weight as against the judgment of men whose studies of foreign cities and whose life-work-not to speak of their disinterested ambitions for their country's art-give them a special right to be heard.

Another view of the problem was set forth by the late John Hay, one of Mr. Lincoln's private secretaries. Mr. McKim, shortly before his own death, stated to a fellow-architect that when Mr. Hay as Secretary of State was called upon for his opinion as to the position for the Lincoln memorial, in a Cabinet meeting called to consider the general plan for the development of Washington, said substantially, if not literally:

As I understand it, the place of honor is on the main axis of the plan. Lincoln of all Americans next to Washington deserves this place of honor. He was of the Immortals. You must not approach too close to the Immortals. His monument should stand alone,

remote from the common habitations of man, apart from the business and turmoil of the city; isolated, distinguished, and serene. Of all the sites, this one near the Potomac is most suited to the purpose.

It should be recognized that the burden of proof is overwhelmingly upon those who would disregard the great body of artistic opinion on this subject. The voices of McKim and Saint-Gaudens plead from the grave for the noble plan to which they gave their world-recognized skill and their unstinted and patriotic labors.



From a Lady of Experience to her Cousin the Wife of a Judge of Court

My dear Gertie:

It gives me genuine pleasure to receive your letter appealing to me for advice concerning the etiquette of smuggling. In the first place it shows that you intend next season to take your place as a really smart woman in New York. Naturally, too, I am flattered at the im


plied tribute to myself as expert and criterion in so delicate a matter. Above all am I gratified that though but a novice in foreign travel you yet recognize by instinct the need of proper conventions for the artistic commission of this most womanly of crimes.

Yes, my dear girl, let us not hoodwink ourselves: smuggling is a crime, but only in the eyes of the law, so that there is nothing disturbing in the word so far as our sex is implicated. Did we women make that law? Ha, ha! Do we women believe in that law? Ha, ha! ha, ha! There you are, then; taxation not only without representation, but for positive misrepresentation! Do the men that made that law expect us women to obey it? Ask the officials of the Treasury!

Of course if this sheet should fall under your husband's eye, as a Judge of Court he will harangue you about the duty of upholding a statute, even if one's own private ox is gored thereby. Quite right too, and you will fail in your wifely duty if you don't applaud, love, and honor him for the fine stand he takes. But, poor Freddie, in his position, how can he be impartial! Let him stay at home and uphold the statute while you go abroad and hold-up the government, and don't care a fig! Well, crime be it, it is not for our husbands to reproach us, since it springs from our laudable desire to dress as well as possible, to look as pretty as we can at the least expense to them. If they had any logic about them they would tax what goes out of the country, not what is

brought in. Why don't they cut a liberal slice off every million our heiresses annually bestow on foreign noblemen, if they want to guard native industries? That would be my idea of protection with a vengeance! But crime though smuggling be in the eyes of man-made law, thank Heaven there's nothing vulgar about it, like breaking the Commandments singly or in a set, which is only what the heathen and other lower-class persons would be guilty of. Smuggling is a plutocratic economy, a felony of the first-cabin.

But about its conventions in detail. From these preliminary remarks you will have gathered that it has no connection whatever with morality.

When you are called upon to declare your foreign purchases, declare! Declare your allotted hundred dollars' worth and something over on which you intend to pay duty. Declare fully, freely; more than fully, freely. Have a list of a thousand little niggling items, with the bills made out in foreign money of smallest denomination; halfpence, farthings; copecks and polushkas, soldi and centesimi, pfennige and groschen, sous, centimes, and the like. Turn your hundred dollars into ten thousand cents translated into seven Janguages. Declare every button, account for every cent with painstaking exactitude. To weary officialism is the prerogative of the individual. Render the government its niggardly hundred dollars' worth of honesty in the smallest of small change.

Now as to your personal bearing during the ordeal. This is indeed an important point. The sufferings of the Spartan boy with the fox gnawing at his vitals were as nothing compared with yours and mine, with the fox-skin round our necks on a sweltering July day. But here comes the

true test of quality. Many successful smuggling women adopt the breezy western, nothing-to-conceal, off-hand manner. Others prefer the ingénue expression of baby-blue. innocence. Some women get through very neatly on the earnest-eyed, Settlementworker-face. Then there is what one might call the Upper-West-Side group, a half shade between the parvenues and the really smart. These are apt to take it humorously as if the idea of their being capable of cheating were all a huge joke. Then, too, there is the conservative manner that belongs to the Fiftieth-Streets-Just-Off-Fifth-Avenue, bored, blasé, superior, correct, which is one of the most finished forms of criminal bearing, only likely to be a bit stagy if overdone. But personally, my dear, I don't believe in localism where art is in question. The best thing, to my mind, is to be temperamental, to be just one's self, a smuggler, a woman, and of course a perfect lady!

As for the lies you will have to tell you need make no apology to your conscience or your clergyman. Whatever you say or do you deceive no one. The inspector knows as well as you do that all the while you are looking him straight in the eye and perjuring yourself you are in deadly danger of swallowing a pearl necklace, or sitting on an eccentrically worn Paris hat. Myself, I never prepare my answers, only my mental attitude. Remember from first to last that honesty is not expected of you, that even while your heart is singing My Country 'T is of Thee that same country is assuming that you, its child, must be a felon, and that all your fellow passengers are in the same boat the moment they set foot upon their native land. On the dock you are potentially in the dock, a prisoner.

Now let us assume that you fulfil your country's high expectations of you by being caught redhanded in your felony. Well, that is one of the hazards of the game which you went into with open eyes, so show yourself a sport, a handsome loser. When a diamond tiara is revealed beneath your traveling toque DON'T affect surprise and wonder whatever possessed your maid to do your hair that way. If a swath of costly valenciennes is discovered wrapped around your person DON'T explain that your confessor ordains it in place of a haircloth shirt, while the rubies in your shoes replace the penitential pea. DON'T say that the doctor prescribed a plaster-of-Parisian millinery on account of its porous qualities, or that the nurse is by way of feeding a dozen white kid gloves daily to the baby. These sallies show a pleasing fancy, but why waste them on skeptical officialism! When ar

rested DON'T bite or scratch the policeman. Your being a small frail woman gives you an advantage over him which you ought to be ashamed to take, in the name of chivalry. When haled before the magistrate DON'T break down and say that you did n't know what you were about when you bought those seven Paris frocks, for that would stamp you a fool, fit only to wear department-store season-end bargains, misfit and "slightly soiled."

No, Gertie; if you are beaten at the game of Beat, call your defeat greater than a victory, like Bunker Hill in the histories. And here comes the cardinal rule in the smugglers' book of etiquette: Put the law, the government, in the wrong. To be sure you smuggled. The law would n't have done its duty if, expecting you to do so, it had n't found you out. It is a public disgrace that your fellow criminals-oh, you name no names!-have been allowed to slip through!

If sentenced to pay a fine, pay it readily to prove that money does n't enter into it. As a woman you smuggle on principle.

If convicted, have the courage of your conviction. Go to prison like a Pankhurst. Insist on the extreme penalty. Chant the Marseillaise, metaphorically, if prevented from giving an operatic rendering, in the Black Maria. Wear your stripes like stars. Emerge triumphant, a martyr! Be photographed, give lectures, attend costume balls in prison garb, stripes crowned with a diamond tiara. Brava! Bravissima! Be a Cause if you want to produce an effect.

In a word, dear Gertie, smuggling is a case of Custom versus the Customs, and of course in time the huge immemorial snowball will wear the pebbles flat. Meanwhile let us elevate it to an art, unlike other artpursuits in that it is wholly compatible with good breeding and unimpeachable social standing. Let us treat it educationally, in the name of the eternal feminine, from Eve to Liberty, and of every other true woman and perfect lady.

But if in spite of all I have said you feel that you can't carry off the situation, or the loot, or both, why then follow Punch's advice to those about to marry . . . don't!

Ever affectionately your cousin
Grace Durham.

P.S. I may not be able to get across this year, so if without putting yourself out you could do a little shopping for me.

has my measurements, and - knows my style.

My love to Freddie. I read all his decisions. I do hope he 'll be made an Ambassador!



To my Recently Engaged Friends: If all the world loves a lover, it shows what a sentimental, forbearing, ing, unselfish, world it is, for not only do lovers not reciprocate, but never are they so unlovable as in the particular phase of their existence immediately following their engagement.


Reginald and Gertrude have plighted their mutual troth. All the suspense and uncertainty, the chills and fever of the soul, are over and they feel confident that the rest of their lives is to be passed together. Parents have given their consent, the engagement has been duly chronicled in the morning papers, boxes of flowers fill the house, cups in a miscellaneous and unrelated assortment decorate the tea-table, congratulations flow in from all sides. The young people find themselves the center of interest to their circle. Surely all this should insure joy, peace, tranquillity, and gratitude; but does it? Or does a double egotism swollen to enormous proportions descend like a cloud upon all this felicity, and make the lovers a source of doubtful happiness to those about them?

Of course I am speaking only of Reginald and Gertrude, whom I happen to know. Doubtless there are ideal lovers who dwell in Altruria; but I am dealing with the average, and if these lines should chance to fall under the eyes of Reginald and his betrothed, I think they would have the candor to "own the soft impeachment." More than that, I am not even sure that they would not glory in it, so blind is love!

The first notes written to their friends by the blissful couple reflect the situation. They are so full of complacency that they leave to be said in response nothing which does not seem a pitiful and surly anticlimax. Gertrude, for example, instead of expressing the hope that Reginald may come to know her friend and value her as she does, gives utterance to the faint hope that in time there may be another treasure almost as marvelous as the one which she has secured awaiting the recipient of her letter. She longs to have her friend and fiancé meet, but only that the former may see the wonder for herself.

Reginald, on his part, does no better. He

[blocks in formation]

Henry that the most charming girl in the world has consented to be his wife. Now it happens that Henry has recently married a woman of whom he thinks rather highly, and he is naturally irritated by Reginald's superfluity of praise. He responds with the bare decencies of felicitation, and adds that he made the acquaintance of Miss Fellowes some years ago. He feels the while a savage satisfaction in informing Reginald that having seen and known her, he preferred another. This fact in turn produces a sense of irritation in the lover, though he can scarcely account for it, and he leaves the office with a consciousness that a shadow of coolness has fallen between him and his best friend.

But if the promessi sposi are a trial to their acquaintance, how do their families fare? In the case of Reginald and Gertrude I happen to know, as Gertrude's younger sister has confided freely in me and expressed herself with praiseworthy directness.

No sooner has the engagement become an accomplished fact than the parents begin to realize that they have gained a son, but have lost a drawing-room, and this in the limited space of an ordinary dwelling is no slight discomfort to its inhabitants. Members of the family who intrude upon the sacred precincts during the hours set apart for Reginald's visits, excuse themselves by a pretended search for a book or a murmured protest that they had no idea he was still there.

It becomes necessary to move the piano into the family sitting-room in order that the younger sister may pursue her practising, and this proves so annoying at close quarters that her brothers betake themselves sulkily to their bedrooms for study. The entire household is bent to the situation, and suffers under it, yet Gertrude is sublimely unaware of any selfishness, as much so as Reginald when, in the time which he spends with his family, he feels at liberty to preserve an aloof silence, as if his thoughts

« PreviousContinue »