The Chautauquan, Vol. 03, July 1883

Part 4

Chapter 43,532 wordsPublic domain

On America itself the demoralization was even more marked. There never was such a state of moral degradation in any Christian country as in South America. Three centuries have passed, and the low state of morals continues. Contrast Mexico and Peru with the United States, morally and intellectually. What seeds of vice did not the Spaniards plant! How the old natives melted away!

And then, to add to the moral evils attending colonization, is the introduction of African slaves, especially in the West Indies and the Southern States. Christendom seems to have lost the seed of morality. Slavery more than counterbalances all other advantages together. It was the stain of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Not merely slavery but the slave trade increases the horror of the frightful picture. America became associated, in the minds of Europeans, with gold hunting, slavery, and cruelty to Indians. Better that the country remained undiscovered than the introduction of such vices and miseries in the most fertile part of the New World.

I can not see that civilization gained anything, morally, by the discovery of America, until the new settlers were animated by other motives than a desire of sudden wealth. When the country became colonized by men who sought liberty to worship God, men of lofty purposes, willing to undergo sufferings and danger in order to plant the seeds of a higher civilization, then there arose new forms of social and political life. Such men were those who colonized New England. And say what you will, in spite of all the disagreeable side of the Puritan character, it was the Puritans who gave a new impulse to civilization in its higher sense. They founded schools and colleges and churches. They introduced a new form of political life by their town meetings, in which liberty was nurtured, and all social improvements were regulated; it was the autonomy of towns on which the political structure rested. In them was born that true representative government which has gradually spread toward the West. The colonies were embryo states, states afterward to be bound together by a stronger tie than that of a league.

The New England States, since the War of Independence, were the defenders and advocates of a central power. An entirely new political organization gradually was formed, resting equally on such pillars as independent townships and independent states, and these represented by delegates in a national center.

So we believe America was discovered not so much to furnish a field for indefinite material expansion, with European arts and fashions, which would simply assimilate America with the old world, with all its dangers and vices and follies, as to introduce new forms of government, new social institutions, new customs and manners, new experiments in liberty, new religious organizations, new modes to ameliorate the necessary evils of life. It was discovered that men might labor and employ the fruits of industry in a new mode, unfettered by the slaveries which the institutions of Europe imposed. America was a new field to try experiments in government and social life, which could not be tried in other nations without sweeping and dangerous revolutions. And new institutions have arisen which are our pride and boast, and which are the wonder and admiration of Europe. America is the only country under the sun in which there is self-government—a government which purely represents the wisdom of the people, where universal suffrage is not a mockery—and if America has a destiny to fulfill for other nations, she must give them something more valuable than reaping machines, palace cars and horse railroads. She must give, not machinery to abridge labor, but institutions and ideas to expand the mind and elevate the soul—something by which the poor can rise and assert their rights. Unless something is developed here which can not be developed in other countries in the way of new spiritual and intellectual forces which have a conservative influence, then I can not see how America can long continue to be the home and refuge of the poor and miserable of other lands. A new and better spirit must vivify schools and colleges and philanthropic enterprises than that which has prevailed in older nations. Unless something new is born here which has a peculiar power to save, wherein will America ultimately differ from other parts of Christendom? We must have schools in which the heart as well as the brain is educated, and newspapers which aspire to something higher than to fan prejudices and appeal to perverted tastes. Our hope is not in books which treat infidelity under the name of science; not in pulpits which can not be sustained without sensational oratory; not in journals which trade on the religious sentiments of the people; nor Sabbath-school books which are an insult to the human understanding; nor colleges which fit youth merely for making money; nor schools of technology to give an impulse to material interests; nor legislatures controlled by monopolists; nor judges elected by demagogues; nor philanthropic societies to ventilate impractical theories. These will neither renovate nor conserve what is most precious in life. Unless a nation grows morally as well as materially, there is something wrong at the core of society. As I have said, no material expansion will avail if society becomes rotten at the core. America is a glorious boon to civilization, but only as she fulfills a new mission in history—not to become more potent in material forces, but in those spiritual agencies which prevent corruption and decay. An infidel professor calling himself a _savant_, may tell you that there is nothing certain or great but in the direction of science to utilities, even as he may boast in a philosophy which ignores a creator and takes cognizance only of a creation. As I survey the growing and enormous moral evils which degrade society here as everywhere, in spite of Bunker Hills and Plymouth Rocks, and all the advance in useful mechanisms, I am sometimes tempted to propound inquiries which suggest the old mournful story of the decline and ruin of states and empires. I ask myself “Why will America be an exception to the uniform fate of nations, as history has demonstrated? why should not good institutions be presented here as in all other countries and ages of the world?” When has civilization shown any striking triumph except in inventions to abridge the labor of mankind and make men comfortable and rich? Is there nothing before us then but the triumph of material life, to end as mournfully as the materialism of antiquity? If so, then Christianity is a most dismal failure, is a defeated power, like all other forms of religion which failed to save. But is it a failure? Are we really swinging back to paganism? Is the time to be hailed when all religions will be considered by the philosopher as equally false and equally useful? Is there nothing more cheerful for us to contemplate than what the old pagan philosophy holds out,—man destined to live like brutes or butterflies, and pass away into the infinity of time and space, like inert matter, decomposed, absorbed, and entering into new and everlasting combination? Is America to become like Europe and Asia in all essential elements of life? Has she no other mission than to add to perishable glories? Is she to teach the world nothing new in education, and philanthropy, and government? Are all her struggles in behalf of liberty in vain? Is Christianity to move round her in circles of milliners and upholsterers, and fanaticisms, and dogmatisms, and superstitions?

We all know that Christianity is the only hope of the world. The question is whether America is, or is not, more favorable for its healthy development and application than the other countries of Christendom. We believe that it is. If it is not, then America is only a new field for the spread and triumph of material forces. If it is, we may look forward to such improvements in education, in political institutions, in social life, in religious organizations, in philanthropical enterprise, that the country will be sought by the poor and enslaved classes of Europe, more for its moral and intellectual advantages, than for mines or farms, and the objects of the Puritan settlers will be gained.

“What sought they then afar? Bright jewels of the mines? The wealth of seas? the spoils of war? They sought for faith’s pure shrine.

“Yes, call it holy ground, Which first their brave feet trod, They left unstained what there they found, Freedom to worship God.”

SONGS IN WINTER.

By DAVID BUXTON.

[During a gloomy November the singing of a bird was heard daily in Regent’s Park, London; beginning before daylight and continuing until sunset.]

Welcome and glad, this dim November morning, The lone bird singing from a leafless tree, Cheering the chilly world ere earliest dawning;— Nor is its cheery message missed by me.

The bird’s sweet song is but the Father’s teaching; Gladness and joy He sends for every hour— Sends both, in answer to true heart’s beseeching, Whether the sun is bright or tempests lower.

Dark night hath stars; dark cloud its “silver lining;” Something of sunshine lightens darkest days; Happy the heart in trust and faith divining God’s light and leading through life’s dreariest ways.

So would I sing, and sing like thee, till silence Shall tell that we have passed beyond the flood— Thou, to sing on in some isle far-distant hence, I, farther still, at home, in heaven, with God.

JOYS OF HIGH COMPANIONSHIP.

By ARTHUR HELPS.

The joys, not merely of high companionship, but of any companionship that is tolerably pleasant, are so great, that a man with whom all other things go ill, can not be classed as an unhappy man, if he has throughout his life much of this pleasant companionship.

The desire for companionship is absolutely universal. Even misanthropy is but the desire for companionship, turned sour. This desire extends throughout creation. It is very noticeable in domestic animals; and could we fathom the causes of their sociability, we should probably have arrived at a solution of several important questions relating to them and to ourselves.

The most fascinating people in the world have, I believe, been simply good companions. Shakspere, as he knew most things, knew this, and has shown that he knew it, in what he has indicated to us of the loves of Brutus and Portia, of Antony and Cleopatra, and of Rosalind and Orlando.

I think it must be admitted that one of the main objects of life is good companionship. “What,” says Emerson, “is the end of all this apparatus of living—what but to get a number of persons who shall be happy in each other’s society, and be seated at the same table?”

The first thing for companionship is, that there should be a good relation between the persons who are to become good companions to each other. It is not well to use a foreign phrase if it can be avoided, but there are foreign phrases which are supremely significant, and utterly untranslatable. I therefore say that those people I have spoken of should be _en rapport_ with one another. This _rapport_ may have its existence in various ways. The relationship of mother and son, of father and daughter, will give it; the love that some people have for children will give it with children; similar bringing up at school or at college may give it; similarity of present pursuits may give it. But before all and above all, that incomprehensible, unfathomable thing called personal liking—that which you feel (or the contrary of which you feel), frequently at first sight—will be sure to give it. We use the phrase “falling in love:” we might perhaps use the phrase “falling in liking” to describe a similar unavoidable precipitancy.

The beginning once made, the basis once laid for this companionship, what are the qualities which tend to make it continuously pleasant?

The first thing is confidence. Now, in using the word confidence, it is not meant to imply that there is an absolute necessity for much confidingness in small things. Wilhelm von Humboldt has expressed an opinion which is worth noting in reference to this subject. “Friendship and love,” he says, “require the deepest and most genuine confidence, but lofty souls do not require the trivial confidences of familiarity.”

The kind of confidence that Humboldt means, and which is required for companionship as well as for friendship and love, puts aside all querulous questions as to whether the companions like one another as much to-day as they did yesterday. Steadfastness is to be assumed. And, also a certain unchangeableness. “He is a wonderfully agreeable person,” said a neighbor of one of the best talkers of the day; “but I have to renew my acquaintance with him every morning.” That good talker can not be held to be a good companion in a high sense of the word. Again, this steadfastness makes allowance for all variations of humor, temperament, and fortune. It prevents one companion from attributing any change that there may be in the other, of manner, of bearing, or of vivacity, to a change in the real relation between the companions. He does not make any of these things personal towards himself. Silence is not supposed to be offence. Hence there is no occasion to make talk, a thing which is fatal to companionship. One reason why some of us enjoy so much the society of animals, is because we need not talk to them if we do not like. And, indeed, with a thoroughly good human companion, you ought to be able to feel as if you were quite alone.

Difference of temperament is no hindrance whatever to companionship. Indeed, the world has generally recognized that fact. We all know that the ardent and the timid, the hopeful and the despondent, the eager and the apathetic, get on very well together. What may not always have been as clearly perceived is, that there are certain diversities of nature, chiefly relating to habits, which produce, not agreeable contrasts, but downright fatal discords. And, in such cases, companionship of a high kind is hopeless.

Let us suppose that the principal requisites for companionship have been attained; first, the basis for it created by personal liking, early association, similarity of pursuits, and the like; secondly, the means of continuing it, such as this confidence that has been spoken of, the absence of contravening tastes, the absence of unreasonable expectation, and the like. Now, for what remain to be considered as the essential requisites for high companionship, we must enter into what is almost purely intellectual. For this high companionship there must be an interest in many things, at least on one side, and on the other a great power of receptivity. It is almost impossible to exaggerate the needfulness of these elements. Look at results. Consider the nature of those men and women whom you have found, if I may use the phrase, to be splendid companions. It is not exactly their knowledge that has made them so; it is their almost universal interest in everything that comes before them. This quality will make even ignorant people extremely good companions to the most instructed persons. It is not, however, the relation of tutor to pupil that is contemplated here. That is certainly not the highest form of companionship. The kind of ignorant person that I mean, if he or she should be one of the companions, is to be intensely receptive and appreciative, and his or her remarks are very dear and very pleasant to the most instructed person. Is not the most valuable part of all knowledge very explicable, and do you not find that you can make your best thoughts intelligible, if you have any clearness of expression, to persons not exactly of your own order, if you will only take the pains to do so?

* * * * *

RUSKIN AND WHISTLER.—A good deal of amusement was created by an account that on one occasion a picture of Mr. Whistler’s was publicly produced, and neither judge nor jury could tell which was the top and which the bottom. Whether the legend is true or not we are in no position to say; but it is certainly as true as the coincidence is curious that at the Winter Exhibition of the Society of Painters in Water-Colors, 1873-74, a lovely and elaborate architectural drawing by Mr. Ruskin was placed upside down. Thus it remained for a time, until some sharp-sighted visitor discovered the fact. The work was No. 105, “Study of the Colors of Marble in the Apse of the Duomo of Pisa,” and exhibited with “Study of the Colors of Marble in the Base of the Church of St. Anastasia at Verona,” No. 97. There is a third story to a similar effect. When John Martin had finished his well-known “Zadok in Search of the Waters of Oblivion,” which was more than once engraved, he sent for the framemaker’s men to frame it, and having occasion to remain in a room adjoining his studio while they were in the latter room, he was edified by a loud dispute between the men as to which was the top, which the bottom of his picture.

EGYPT FOR THE EGYPTIANS.

By JUDGE G. M. BARBER.

“Egypt for the Egyptians!” was the motto of the national party in their attempted revolution. What is Egypt, and who are the Egyptians? Let history answer. Modern investigations and the translation of hieroglyphics and inscriptions found in tombs carry back the evidences of its existence as a nation at least a thousand years prior to the period fixed by the translators of the Mosaic record for the creation of man. During all these cycles of ages these wonderful people have maintained their existence along the narrow region watered and enriched by the Nile. Neither pestilence nor famine, invasion and subjugation by other peoples, nor internal discord, has supplanted them by other or different races; nor have they been allured to abandon the homes of their ancestors for more fruitful lands or mineral wealth, or commercial advantages. Although in turn they have been conquerors, and held in subjection other lands and other peoples, and have been themselves the conquered and compelled to bear the yoke of people more powerful than themselves, they have remained the same simple agricultural people, among whom have always existed types of squalid poverty and luxurious wealth, self-sacrificing devotion to a religion, and the most wanton lasciviousness: the most deplorable ignorance and the most exalted scientific knowledge and mechanical skill.

Over this interesting country and people Mohammedanism has for several centuries spread its baleful influence, keeping out the light of Christianity and western civilization. During most of the time since 1517 it has been under the dominion of Turkey. In the early part of the eighteenth century the Mamelukes, who constituted the military under Ali Bey, threw off the Turkish yoke and maintained their independence until the invasion by Napoleon in 1798, who conquered it for the French and held it until 1801, when Mehemet Ali became Pasha. After restoring tranquility by a treacherous assassination of five hundred Mamelukes, and the expulsion of the remainder from the country, he turned his arms against Turkey, conquered Syria and a great part of Asia Minor, and was in a fair way to capture Constantinople when the European powers, England, France, Russia, Prussia, and Austria, interfered and compelled him to make peace with the sultan. This was in 1833. In 1839 the sultan sent an army of 80,000 men and a large fleet to retake Ali’s conquests. This army was defeated and the fleet surrendered to Ali and was brought to Alexandria. The powers of Europe again interfered to prevent the overthrow and destruction of the Turkish Empire, England, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, taking sides with Turkey, while France, under Thiers, favored Ali. England, however, sent a fleet, blockaded Alexandria, bombarded and captured Beyrut and Acre, and compelled Ali to accept peace, dictated by the allies, and to accept the pashalic of Egypt, guaranteed to him and his descendants on condition of his paying one-fourth of his clear revenues to the sultan.

This short history is necessary to understand the relation of Egypt to Turkey, and how the European powers have come to take part in the affairs of Egypt. Mehemet Ali became ruler of Egypt in 1805, under the title of pasha. Finding his ambition to conquer Turkey frustrated by the European powers, he attempted to introduce into the administration of his government European systems and the institutions of western civilization. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Ibrahim, who lived but two months, and was followed by his nephew, Abbas, and after six years reign of Abbas by Saïd, the fourth son of Ali, who had a prosperous reign of nine years and was succeeded in January, 1863, by Ismaïl Pasha, the son of Ibrahim. The policy of modernizing Egypt, inaugurated by Mehemet Ali, was followed by Saïd, although wholly neglected during the unsatisfactory rule of Abbas.