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S Qf S IHi nnesot Ci “IT IS neve/ 1 ‘ TOO LATE TO HEND.” “” Vol. XYL— No. 33. The Mirror of Feb. 12contained an article by Mr. W. E. C. writ ten, it would seem, for the purpose of proving that -schemes altruistic in their tenden cies can never be successful. Mr. C. would have us believe that the under lying principle of such schemes, “re moves ambition, man’s chief incentive to labor.” He also states: “A commu nity cannot exist without rulers, and where will we find the ruler who will live on equal terms with the ruled? The only condition of society where men are equal is where barbarism -exists.” Mr. C. bunches together co operative schemes, labor agitators, al truistic writers, socialists and anarch ists, and facetiously suggests that all these malcontents be banished to a little Utopia of their own, that the man who works may have a chance to work un interrupted by strikes, into which, ac cording to Mr. C., he is forced by un lawful intimidation. > Mr. C. may be serious.* He has a right to his own opinions, even as those who cannot swallow his bare assertions have a right to contrary opinions. Mr. <J.’s averment that co-operative schemes and colonies are impractical is convinc ing proof that he has not thought it worth his while to investigate before drawing conclusions. There are in Europe thousands of co-operative es tablishments, some of which have weathered the financial storms and eco nomic-vicissitudes of more than fifty years, to the general satisfaction and material well-being of the co-operators. Quite a number of co-operative con cerns are doing business in the United States, and according to late reports, ever 80 per cent of them are prosperous. According to the Arena, “the aggregate* co-operative business of America and Europe amounts to $2,000,000,000 a year;” and, as the number of co-opera tive establishments is steadily increas ing, and, as at the lowest calculation 75 per cent of the new establishments are financially successful, it seems the very height of absurdity to aver that co operative schemes are, and necessarily must be, impracticable, impossible. In New Zealand, where government own ership and co-operative schemes are carried out to a greater extent than in any other country, “the wealth per family was, ten years ago, $5,700; today it is $7,400; while the population has increased 19 per cent, the exports 40 per cent, and bank deposits 60 per cent. Id New Zealand there are no small groups of millionaires, becoming a men ace to the government, and a burden to the people through special privileges, nor are there the extremes of poverty found elsewhere. The motto, ‘From each man according to his ability; to each pian according to his need’, seems to be the actuating spirit of this gov ernment; and as a result the land is prosperous, and the people becoming independent and happy.” Mr. C.’s supposition that ideas altru istic in their tendencies can never be realized because they are opposed to man’s chief incentive to labor—am bition—is fallacious, because it presup poses that man’s ambition must neces sarily run in one groove—that of acquiring wealth. .Nothing could be further from the truth. The paths of ambition are manifold—some leading to the barren hills of Self-exaltation, and some to the fruitful valleys of Self negation. There is as much room for ambition in striving to increase the well-being of our fellow men as there is in efforts tending solely to self-ag grandizement. The only laudable am- ' .3+:' bition is that which has for its aim the k improvement of present conditions, the • promotion of happiness—not as these are related to our individual selves only, but rather as they effect the gen eral welfare of mankind. Mr. C.’s statement, “that a commu- DOES EQUALITY MEAN A BARBARISM? ‘STILLWATER, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, MARCH 5,1903. nity cannot exist without rulers” is an tagonistic to the principles of true Democracy. In our own country we have no rulers; we have public serv ants, and whenever we feel dissatisfied with their services, we dismiss them, and hire other servants. Whoever al ludes to our public servants, from the president down to the constable, as rul ers, is wof ully lacking in that independ ence which cements together a Nation of Brothers, and which entitles each to call himself a freeman. And only those deserve the glorious appellation, FREEMEN, who are willing to concede the same rights and privileges to others which they themselves enjoy; and the possession of such rights and privileges implies equality to all who have the power of exercising them. And this equality is due to sentiments altruistic in their tendencies. Only the most enlightened nations foster the spirit of equality. That is the most advanced nation in which civic and religious equality is the most widely diffused. The barbarous nations of Asia and eastern Europe have no true notions of the equality of men. The emperor of China is the Son of Heaven, before whom even the wearers of the yellow jackets prostrate them selves in abject submission; while to the Chinese peasant the thought of equality with the Son of Heaven would appear as an unpardonable presump tion, as the most horrible form of sac rilige. The Brahman of India is con sidered a holy personage, tho in reality he may be a beast in human form; and the Pariah of India is held in less es teem than the poisonous cobra, even tho he rivals Job in patience, and Mo ses in meekness. i In Persia, in Turkey, in parts of the Russian empire, in any country where soever, where barbarism prevails, we find the most glaring system of arti fical inequality, and as a necessary cor ollary we notice in such countries the lack of altruistic sentiments. If Mr. C. entertains the idea that “equality means barbarism” he should take a few days off, and fhink it all over—or guess again. Mr. C.’s proposed Utopia for mal contents is the conception of a master mind. Let us people this Utopia with the members of organized labor and their families and dependents— some 12,000,000; next the co-opera tive workers, not to mention the co-operative schemers—6oo,ooo; tljen the altruistic writers—say half of all the writers of this country—(num ber unknown); add to these all the mal contents and incompetents (incompe tents from Mr. C.’s peculiar point of view) such as thousands of discontent ed farmers, and hundreds of thousands of discontented unorganized laborers; all the agitators against child labor in factories, in mines, and in sweat shops (they are good people, and we want them), and the thousand and one cler gymen who dare lift up their voices against the spread of materialism, and the brutal competitive system of our time; and Mr. C. will need the residue for the maintenance of his proposed armed guard. But let us be generous. He may keep the anarchists and fools—we have no use for' them. Utopia is not the proper place for fools, and anarchists can only feel thoroughly at home in Bedlam. The most amusing part of Mr. C.’s article is that in which he tells us that “some years ago some millions of acres of land in Minnesota and the Dakotas were offered free to all wh6 were will ing to. work, and the same opportunity is open today farther west and in Can ada. Why,” asks Mr. C., “will men strike for a few extra cents wages, while the west offers free homes and inde pendence V As long as society has this land to offer every man who is willing to work there i ' : no excuse for strikes, and they Bhould not be tolerated. If a man is dissatisfied let him put on his coat, draw his pay and go west. If he has no money for carfare, let him walk.” Let us concede that lands open to settlement, and free to all who are willing to work, exist,—tho such is not the case. Let us suppose that such lands are “flowing with milk and hon ey;” are as a “Garden of the Gods, like Egypt;” in what way is that to benefit the strikers for few cents extra wages in the anthracite regions? Draw his pay? ‘Well! Let us accompany one of the miner to the company’s office, and listen w$ le he draws his pay. Miner: “Kr. Clerk, I want dry pay.” Clerk: “Just a moment, Mr. Stepni owiski, I’ll settle with you in a min ute.” Clerk figures up in “deadly par allel columns” what is due to Mr. S. from the company, and what is due the company from Mr. S., and then says: “Mr. S, yoq owe the company $3.60. Do you wish to pay now?” Miner: “How’s that?” Clerk: “You nave earned this month $42 and the bill against you for house rent, coal, groceries, powder, shoes, cal ico, medicine, meat, and sundriee, amounts to $45.60. I believe you would better work another month before you draw your pay.” Is this exaggeration? Not at all. But supposing the company owes the miner $3.60, shall he leave his family behind, and start on foot for the prom ised land? Does Mr. C. expect him to beg his way and be arrested for vagran cy ? Or would he advise him to bundle his family into an empty car and get arrested for dead beating? Or suppos ing the miner is ft single man, and will ing to beg, beat or steal his way to Canada, what can he, a man without resources, and without previous ex perience in agriculture do on a piece of prairie land, be it ever so fertile? Into what absurdities some persons falll In Mr. C. we behold a man who vociferates against co-operative schemes, thousands of which are al ready in successful operation, and then suggests remedies for existing evils so impracticable, so absurd, that odo wonders if they are the emanation of a sane mind. Mr. C.’s censure of labor unions needs no refutation. Many of the leading capitalists and employers of labor on a large scale have publicly de clared their belief in the fundamental principles of labor-unionism. These fundamental principles are altruistic in their tendencies. Laborers of either sex organize for the purpose of better ing the conditions of the working mass es. That they sometimes resort to un lawful means to bring about desirable and even commendable, results, cannot be denied. In this respect they are no better than many capitalists. But neither can it be denied that the-good accomplished by labor unions out weighs the evil they have wrought at least tenfold, and in this respect they (labor unions) are better than capital. 1 respectfully call Mr. C.’s attention to a few remarks on altruistic senti ments: Whatsoever is good, whatso ever makes for moral progress, has its root in altruistic sentiments. All the moral reformats this world has ever seen, from Moses, Confucius, Buddha, Christ, Mohammed, down to the hum blest of their sincere exponents, have been actuated by altruistic motives. Prometheus stole fire from heaven that man might live; and the Promethean spirit is alive today. Individuals have found their greatest happiness in pro moting the general wellfare of man kind; and what is possible in an indi vidual cannot be considered impossible in a community. To say that all schemes, altruistic in their tendencies, must necessarily end in failure, is to say that it is not with in the possibilities for man to make ethical progress. Twenty centuries ago our ancestors roamed through the forests of Europe co-operating only to kill; they had no conception of altruism outside of certain dealings with the meiribers of their own tribe. Today, as a direct result of the growth of altru istic sentiments, at least one-half of A jj V our actions are interdependent. Altru ism lubricates the wheels of Progress— the moral* machinery of the world can not run without it. And the spirit of Altruism is constantly gathering strength—as it moves on it gains both breadth and depth. The hindrances in its way are overcome; it overleaps barriers that seem insurmountable. Wm. L. Garrison was dragged through the streets of Boston; but the avalanche of altruism set a-rolling by him and his co-laborers overwhelmed all oppo sition. “John Brown’s body lies a-mouldering in the grave;” but the principle for which he died goes “marching on.” To decry altruism will not stifle it; like Banquo’s ghost it will not stay down. It contains the living germ of Truth; and the germ will bud, and blossom, and bring forth fruit in spite of carping deprecators. The eth ical progress of mankind in the future is only possible along lines of ever in creasing and spreading altruistic senti ments. H. S, Jr. Ijtartor Sunset. Beyond the bar the sun has set And there the wind may chant its runes, All mythical and sad at sea, But here the high sky over me Is one pure dome of violet Winnowed of cloud above the dunes. Over the Druid pine and fir That crown the Westering hills is seen The young moon’s golden barge afloat Like some adventurous fairy boat, With one white star to pilot her Through seas of pearl and lucent green. Afar the islets still and dim, That gem the harbor’s burnished zone, Hold yet the twilight that must soon Kail over sea and reef and dune, As from some goblet’s crystal rim A misty purple wine is blown. The boats that sailed at break of day Ate homeward bound, and on the shore A Joyous weloome watte each one, For toll.ls past and work Is done, When o’er the hushed and placid bay The veil of darkness falls once more. —L. M. Montgomery in Ainslee’s Magazine. El Paso, Texas. THERE is no border city in the United States of greater note than the city of El Paso, Tex 4s, the Gate City. It is situated on the north shore of that famous river, the Rio Grande, that separates our country from Old Mexico. El Paso is a city of 30,000 inhabitants and one-half of this number is com posed of Greasers—a name given to the lawless element of Mexico who come over the border to escape punishment for seme breach of the law for which their own government will not trouble them so long as they remain away from that country. But for all that, El Paso is a quiet and orderly city. The white portion consists of people who have gone there for their health, found the city to their liking and re mained, some going into business, others living a life of ease. Then there is the floating population, which comes for the winter season to escape the cold climate of the north. El Paso is noted for its fine climate. There is nothing very attractive about the city proper. As you leave the Southern Pacific station to go down town (as the natives say) the first building you see is a large, four-story wooden structure which was the finest hotel in the city, but was lately partly destroyed by fire. Then you pass through a small but beautiful park that has for an attraction an aligator pond. And the ’gators, by the way, are very fond of dogs. I was an eye witness to a sad but amusing inci dent while looking at the ’gators one Sunday morning. A lady was showing her friends the city, and, upon arriving at the ’gator pond admire the “men from Texas,” as tfiey call them. One of the big fellows was sunning himself on the stone slab in front of the small gate to the basin. The little dog the lady had with her Btarted at once to investigate Mr. Ga tor, but he had no sooner got in front of our friend from Texas than the lat ter opened wide that great month of bis, and poor doggie! not a thing left bat the silk cord that he was tied to. After leaving the park yon are in the heart of the city. There you see ail there is to see. Gambling of all kinds. Keno and monte are the leading games, for a Greaser is very fond of these games and they support the sporting class of the city. Everything is wide open there. Saloons and gambling houses never close night or day. They say that at one time Mr. Thomas, the proprietor of the Gem Hall, the largest in the city, wished to close his place be cause of the death of a dear friend, but could not find the key and was obliged to place a man on guard at the door while he attended the obsequies. One of the disgraces of the city is the - street car system. The line that runs to Jaurez, (pronounced wares) Mexico, consists of six small bob-tailed cars and one poor little mule to drag them along the dusty two miles you are com pelled to ride. * On arriving at the bridge, (if you call it that, a rickety old thing about 30 feet long with a 6x6 on each side for hand rail) you see on the right the United States custom office. There the car stops, I suppose to let the mule breathe, for the custom inspector will Btop you only to inquire about your health paper. It’s a very good, plan to get your papers before leaving El Faso. Any, doctor will give them to you without charge. After crossing the bridge you are stopped at the Mex ican customhouse, and the dark skin ned gentlemen can do a good job in going through belongings. Everything being O. K., you get started again, for you still have one mile to go. There is not a thing to admire. All you can do is to think how suddenly you have arrived in a foreign land. The very air you breathe seems to be unlike the air in your own country. You have at last arrived in the quaintest of Mexican cities, which I will describe at some future time. C. E. B. The little chipmunk has no Such as resides in noble man; Poor little thing, Its home is just a hole * No architect was called to plan. Its richer brothers will not Deed, When winter dims the distant sun, To take things from thplr stores to feed Its cold and hungry little one. Ere blizzards howl across the hill The soulless chipmunk takes good care To stock Its larder and to fill The home with all that gladdens there. Nor does the chipmunk pile away More than it needs ten thousand fold, Or fight its brothers so that they Must starve when nights are long and cold. Poor soulless chipmunk! Ah, how wide The gulf ’twlxt it and noble man! With what It needs ’tis satisfied, And quits at last where It began. —Chicago Record-Herald. Many years ago some admirers of Lord Byron raised a subscription for a monument to the poet, to be placed in Westminster abbey. Chantrey was re quested to execute it, but on account of the smallness of the sum subscribed he declined, and Thorwaldsen was then applied to and cheerfully under took the work. In about 1833 the finished statue ar rived at the customhouse in London, but, to the astonishment of the sub scribers, the dean of Westminster, Dr. Ireland, declined to give permission to have it set up in the abbey, and, owing to this difficulty, which proved insur mountable, for Dr. Ireland’s successor was of the same opinion, it remained for upward of twelve years in the cus tomhouse, when (1846) it was removed to the library of Trinity college, Cam bridge. The poet is represented in the statue of the size of life, seated on a ruin, with his left foot resting on the frag ment of a column. In his right hand be holds a style up to his mouth; in his left a book, inscribed “Child Harold.” He is dressed In a frock coat and cloak. Beside him on the left is a skull, above which is the Athenian owl. The likeness is of course posthumous. Thorwaldsen was born Nov. 19, 1770, and died on March 24, 1844.—Newcastle (Eng.) Chronicle. Terms- i tt-OOper year, in advance ■ cnMe.j Six Months SO cents. One for tlx Chipmunk. Byron Was Barred.