value to the ordinary citizen, namely, the operation of National party politics. As Dr. Haynes says, "those self-chosen leaders whose only business is politics, and whose only politics is business, never for one moment forget that the control of Federal patronage-and that means of almost all the really delectable loaves and fishes-rests with the Senate." The result is a hopeless confusion of National and State issues-or, more accurately, the submergence of State issues in Federal party politics. As Dr. Haynes points out, most of the unfairness in con

method; that it is the method which the experience of several States indicates will some day be successfully developed and generally adopted; and that it has abundant justification in the transformation of the Presidential Electoral College into what is in effect simply a voting machine. But whether by this method or by that, the people of the States will, in time, take into their own hands the power to determine who shall represent the States in the Federal Senate.

ously illustrated in "Connecticut's rotten borough system "-is due to the effort to make secure to some party or class or interest the power to choose United States Senators. Under the present arrangement the legislators of a State are not chosen for the fitness to do the State's work; they are chosen with reference largely to National matters with which they have nothing to do except for their one duty of choosing the dispensers of Federal patronage.

Under the present system, then, States are frequently unrepresented, or only half represented, in the one place where they are supposed to have equal voice. Even those States which are nominally fully represented are frequently rather misrepresented; they cannot properly manage their own business, because the machinery by which they ought to do so is set to do a work for which it is unfitted; and the Senate itself is an object of popular distrust. The election of Senators by direct vote of the people would not make the Senate any the less a body representative of the States, and it would remove at once the chief ills that make almost every State Legislature an object of contempt, and the Senate an object of at least suspicion.

Whether such popular election should be effected by Constitutional amendment, as Dr. Haynes believes it should, or by the general adoption of such primary laws as would practically deprive the Legislatures of any power except that of ratifying the expressed choice of the voters, is a question we shall not here discuss. The Outlook believes that the latter is the natural and most practicable

mortality

The gains which men and women have made in self-control, understanding of life, beauty and nobility of character, have been secured by those who have lived in advance of the standards of their time. In most cases the separation has not been so great as to involve the tragedy of persecution, but sometimes it has led straight to the hemlock, the block, or the cross. In every generation and in every country there has been a group of those upon whom the light of the morning rested and who have pressed on into the new day. They were not reformers in the sense of aggressively attacking the things in which they did not believe; they were always so intent on bringing into their lives the power of higher ideals that they served their fellows best, not by what they destroyed, but by what they revealed and made credible. To many who surrounded them those eager seekers for the better life seemed to be pursuing dreams as evanescent as the rainbow and seeking ends as unreal as the pot of gold that lies concealed where the arch of radiant mist rests on the ground. But the mountains stand distinct and immovable, though the near-sighted do not see them; to the far-sighted they are as real and solid as the earth beneath their feet.

Men have followed dreams and fallen in a vain though not always barren pursuit of them; but those who see further than their fellows and live in the larger relations which their vision reveals to them are of all men most rational.

One need not wait for the banishment of greed from society to practice unselfishness; one need not wait for a clean and civilized legal treatment of marriage relations to keep the home pure and sacred; one need not wait until public life is cleansed from dishonesty to serve his fellows with a heart that knows no treachery to the great interests of the nation and with hands that have never taken bribes; one need not wait until war is abolished to live the life of peace that rests on the love of God expressed in the love of man. Society is made up of those who live by the standards of the day and of those who live by the standards of to-morrow; and the real dreamers are those who accept things as they are; the followers after the higher realities are those who have wakened out of sleep and have looked upon life as it is. To these clear-sighted men and women the standards they recognize are made more definite and commanding by living as if these standards were already universally accepted; and they gradually conform their aims and deeds to these higher requirements, and are more alive than their fellows because they are in touch with a greater number of real things.

The discussion of the credibility of immortality has its uses and becomes imperative from time to time; but the final demonstration of this great fact is never made as the result of a process of reasoning; it is ultimately and convincingly revealed in the experience. Those who do not know immortality as a fact of experience often have opinions about it, but can never have knowledge of it; and when that knowledge has been attained, all the argument in the world will disturb the faith which springs out of it as little as the skepticism of the shortsighted will disturb those who see the mountains whenever they lift their eyes. The fact that many good and true men and women doubt the immortality of the soul has no more weight with those who have learned it by experience than has the inability of the good and true to appreciate music power to disturb the faith or destroy the joy of those who know that Beethoven has as authentic a voice as Shakespeare, and that the "Symphony

Pathétique" is as real and substantial a cry from the soul of Russia as was Dostoyevski's "Poor Folk."

Immortality is not a future state; it is a present condition. It is not a gift to be conferred hereafter; it is power inherent in the human soul. It is not a fact to be proved by logical demonstration any more than the reality of the life of which we are now conscious; it is not a truth to be revealed in some remote heaven; it is a fact to be accepted as life is accepted, and to be lived as life is lived in thought, emotion, and action. If we would know immortality, we must write it on our hearts that we are now immortal; if we would get the peace and joy of it, we must rest securely in it; if we would have it become steadily more real, commanding, and inspiring, we must live as immortals.

For immortality is no more a dream than are those higher realities which have led aspiring souls in every generation step by step upward. We have gone only a little way in the full unfolding of the human spirit, but we have gone so far that our commonplace realities of the relations of man with man would have seemed to our remote ancestors like the idle dreams of children, to be laughed to scorn by all men who wished to deal with life as it is. They had not discovered that life is a different matter to each succeeding generation; that, in the sense of a reality which is the same everywhere and to all, there is no such thing as "life as it is." was one thing to Socrates and another to Cleon; one thing to Judas and another to the Christ; one thing to Lincoln and another to Burr. Does any one question which kind of life was the largest and most real?

Life

It is idle to tell the man who practices a virtue above the standard of his time that he is a dreamer; he knows what has actually happened in his own. experience; he knows that he is living in a larger world than the doubters and skeptics; and he knows that the virtue he strives to attain is real because he practices it.

In like manner, the men and women who have dreamed what Dr. Gladden has finely called "the practice of immor

tality" are not dreaming of a possible revelation to be made hereafter; they are living now in a larger view of the world, and acting day by day in the light of present knowledge. They do not search the books for arguments in support of the truth of immortality, nor are they disturbed by the fluctuation of opinion regarding it; they are absorbed in the practice of it. They think of themselves always as immortal; they live day by day in the immediate presence of that spiritual order in this present stage of life which, though invisible, constantly and with increasing clearness bears witness to itself in current history; they strive in all their intercourse with others to bear themselves as immortals and to reverence their fellows as sharers in the great gift of life; they make immortality credible by purity, helpfulness, and fertility; by courage, calmness, and the sweetness that streams from a great vision become the feeder of character; they think always of those who have passed through the Gate of Death as possessed of a more vital and transcendent life; "it is the dead only who really live, it is we who are dying;" if it comforts and freshens their sense of the reality of the one life elsewhere, they pray for those who have gone on as freely and confidently as for those who remain; they think of the whole universe, visible and invisible, as the home in which God lives; of life as one and indivisible; of immortality as a present possession, and of its practice as its only real evidence and demonstration; they find no incredible mystery in the empty tomb from which the Christ walked unharmed, because in thought, word, and deed he lived as an immortal from the hour of his birth to the hour of his ascension.

And in all this they are no more dreamers than is the man in the little remote country village who by education and travel has so widened his relations that he lives in the world instead of the place where he does his work, finds his shelter, and takes his daily rest; than the man who, in this present stage of war, greed, and selfishness, lives in the reality of a nobler age as surely coming out of the travail of to-day as this age of spirit

ual and moral striving has come out of the age of barbarism, lust, and fear.

The Spectator

The modern world seems to the Spectator to have reproduced the ancient story of Io and the Gadfly. Fair Io, said the Greek myth-makers, having attracted the amorous attentions of Father Zeus, and being consequently an object of wrath to his virtuous spouse Hera, was transformed by him, for her safety, into a heifer; whereupon Hera sent forth a gadfly (tabanus lineola) to torment her. Vainly did Io seek escape. Over the then known parts of Europe and Asia she wandered, ever prodded on by her pertinacious pursuer. In Io, whose Greek name means the Goer, the Spectator finds the classic prototype of a modern and frequent phenomenonextreme mobility without terminal facilities. In her pricker-on with fell intent appears likewise a crude anticipation of the doctrine of up-to-date psychologists, that "all ideas are essentially motor."

This technical statement might not unreasonably be taken by the man on the street as a scientific certificate of his observation that ideas issue in motors and motion to a degree both expensive and perilous. It would, indeed, be the world's wonder were it not the world's fashion, and the wonder it is of a contemporaneous but older world, not yet in our fashion agog. In the Spectator's early days houses were sometimes seen slowly inching along on rollers from site to site. Nowadays owners of such fixed property are putting it, by the lift of mortgages, into motor-cars wherewith to gad about and make dust fly. The auto-suggestion which induces so irrational a change of investment has thus gotten, in the Spectator's apprehension, an extension of meaning from the healing to the wheeling process, and from hypnotism to hyperæsthesia, particularly at city street-crossings, and on country roads behind an unindoctrinated nag. In such situations the memorial inscription of the famous architect of St. Paul's Cathedral-" If you want to find his monument, look around "-has linked itself

The first of October, lately taking in New York the time-cursed place of the first of May as moving-day, has furnished the Spectator with fresh modern instances of the classic myth.. The woe of Io the goer-on, goaded by the gadfly, is then rehearsed before him in a sort of street vaudeville. From flat to flat the flitters move with inconvenience ever in pursuit, getting away from pilferers to get next to piano-thumpers, but never, like the persecuted saints, taking joyfully the spoiling of their goods in transit. The citizen, aweary of his cribbed, cabined, and confined compartment, espies the specious announcement of a rural paradise provided for such as he by a company of public benefactors devoted to "land improvement," and distant from the city railway terminal just twenty-nine and three-fourths minutes. Were he seeking confirmation of the saying that "every moment a sucker is born," the vision that tempts him thither in the mirage of a May morning were like what Eve thought tree to be desired to make one wise." The rural cottager's privations afar from the city shop around the corner, the commuter's grievances with railway folk, -have not the newspapers spared the Spectator from seeking illustrations of the poet's teaching, "Man never is, but always to be blest"?

a

A small section, this, of a vast field. To the Spectator Io's modern duplicates seem to abound and multiply. Once a nation of stand-patters, rarely crossing the lines of their native county, we have become a nation of globe-trotters, rarely finding the ne plus ultra. The modern American might say with the ancient Trojan,

"What land on earth has not our labor filled?"

The terraqueous globe no longer sates his goading hunger for fresh sensations and fame; it drives him to ballooning; it makes him "go poling," as Stockton

phrased it, in an air-ship-recalling to the Spectator Juvenal's satirical line, "The hungry Greekling is ready to scale the sky at your order."

One might ask the modern Io, with sympathy or with sarcasm, as one or the other mood gets uppermost in critical observation, "Where do "Where do you live?" Practically nowhere," would the answer be, "but here's an address that will find me anywhere." In his college days the Spectator, arriving at a rural tavern from an all-day tramp, was conducted to an attic and pointed to two cots, with a hospitable bidding to " sleep on one or both."

Wholesome life as well as wholesome sleep requires a fixed place, but the Spectator forbears to moralize further on the constant uprooting of life that he sees to-day. Io's restless going on doubtless made her as lean a heifer as any of Pharaoh's atrophied kine, and our modern Wanderlust tends to leanness of soul.

Good Dr. Watts, though still in fame, is no more in fashion, and "Watts on the Mind" now gathers dust on the top shelf. To keep two lines of Watts on their minds is the Spectator's parting counsel to the victims of the gadfly of unrest : "It is a poor relief we gain

To change the place, but keep the pain." To the unbelieving, Watts has nothing more to say than the good-by of Cæsar's ghost to Brutus : "Thou shalt see me at Philippi." But the Spectator cannot bid his theme good-by without a word of sympathy with many who see good work weakened by the gadfly that drives off their helpers. In one month last year his bite dispossessed one city church of seventeen families. Not the apostolic but the laic succession is now the anxious problem of many such a church, into and out of which the stream of hearers flows so swiftly as to make the function of the pulpit seem, as a friend of the Spectator described it, "like preaching on a ferryboat." In the early New England days, when the college curriculum included arithmetic, a tutor is said to have disposed of an insoluble problem thus; "Gentlemen, here is a serious difficulty: we will face it boldly and pass on." The Spectator is now fain to do even so.