The Old World and Its Ways

Tolstoy, in one of his strongest essays that he has written – an essay entitled "Industry and Idleness" – elaborates and defends the doctrine advanced by a Russian named Bondaref, to the effect that each individual should labor with his hands, at least to the extent of producing his own food. I referred to this and asked him for a brief statement of his reasons. He said that it was necessary for one to engage in manual labor in order to keep himself in sympathy with those who toil, and he described the process by which people first relieve themselves of the necessity of physical exertion and then come to look with a sort of contempt upon those who find it necessary to work with their hands. He believes that a lack of sympathy lies at the root of most of the injustice which men suffer at the hands of their fellows. He holds that it is not sufficient that one can remember a time when he earned his bread in the sweat of his brow, but that he must continue to know what physical fatigue means and what drudgery is, in order that he may rightly estimate his brother and deal with him as a brother. In addition to this he says that, when one begins to live upon the labor of others, he is never quite sure that he is earning his living. Let me quote his language: "If you use more than you produce you cannot be quite content, if you are a conscientious man. Who can know how much I work? It is impossible. A man must work as much as he can with his hands, taking the most difficult and disagreeable tasks, that is, if he wishes to have a quiet conscience. Mental work is much easier than physical work, despite what is said to the contrary. No work is too humble, too disagreeable, to do. No man ought to dodge work. If I dodge work I feel guilty. There are some people who think they are so precious that other people must do the dirty, disagreeable work for them. Every man is so vain as to think his own work the most important. That is why I try to work with my hands by the side of workingmen. If I write a book, I cannot be quite sure whether it will be useful or not. If I produce something that will support life, I know that I have done something useful."

Tolstoy presents an ideal, and while he recognizes that the best of efforts is but an approach to the ideal, he does not consent to the lowering of the ideal itself or the defense of anything that aims at less than the entire realization of the ideal. He is opposed to what he calls palliatives, and insists that we need the reformation of the individual more than the reformation of law or government. He holds that the first thing to do is to substitute the Christian spirit for the selfish spirit. He likens those who are trying to make piecemeal progress to persons who are trying to push cars along a track by putting their shoulders against the cars. He says that they could better employ their energy by putting steam in the engine, which would then pull the cars. And the religious spirit he defines as "such a belief in God and such a feeling of responsibility to God as will manifest itself both in the worship of the Creator and in the fellowship with the created."

During the course of conversation he touched on some of the problems with which the various nations have to deal. Of course he is opposed to war under all circumstances, and regards the professional soldier as laboring under a delusion. He says that soldiers, instead of following their consciences, accept the doctrine that a soldier must do what he is commanded to do, placing upon his superior officer the responsibility for the command. He denies that any individual can thus shift the responsibility for his conduct. In speaking of soldiers, he expressed an opinion that indicates his hostility to the whole military system. He said that soldiers insisted upon being tried by military men and military courts, and added: "That is amusing. I remember that when that plea was made in a case recently, I retorted that if that was so, why was not a murderer justified in demanding a trial at the hands of murderers, or a burglar in demanding trial by a jury of burglars. That would be on all fours with the other proposition."

He is not a believer in protection, and regards a tariff levied upon all of the people for the benefit of some of the people as an abuse of government and immoral in principle. I found that he was an admirer of Henry George and a believer in his theory in regard to the single tax.

He is opposed to trusts. He says that the trust is a new kind of despotism and that it is a menace to modern society. He regards the power that it gives men to oppress their fellows as even more dangerous than its power to reap great profits.

He referred to some of our very rich men and declared that the possession of great wealth was objectionable, both because of its influence over its possessor and because of the power it gave him over his fellows. I asked him what use a man could make of a great fortune, and he replied: "Let him give it away to the first person he meets. That would be better than keeping it." And then he told how a lady of fortune once asked his advice as to what she could do with her money (she derived her income from a large manufacturing establishment), and he replied that if she wanted to do good with her money she might help her work-people to return to the country, and assist them in buying and stocking their farms. "If I do that," she exclaimed in dismay, "I would not have any people to work for me, and my income would disappear."

As all are more or less creatures of environment, Tolstoy's views upon religion have probably been colored somewhat by his experience with the Greek church. He has, in some instances, used arguments against the Greek church which are broad enough to apply to all church organizations. He has not always discriminated between the proper use of an organization and the abuse of power which a large organization possesses. While animated by a sincere desire to hasten the reign of universal brotherhood, and to help the world to a realization of the central thought of Christ's teachings, he has not, I think, fully appreciated the great aid which a church organization can lend when properly directed. In the work in which Tolstoy is engaged, he will find his strongest allies among church members to whom the commandment "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" is not merely sound philosophy, but a divine decree. These will work in the church and through the church, while he stands without raising his voice to the same God and calling men to the same kind of life.

His experience with the arbitrary methods of his own government has led him to say things that have been construed as a condemnation of all government. He has seen so much violence and injustice done in the name of government that it is not strange that the evils of government should impress him more than its possibilities for good. And yet those who believe that a just government is a blessing can work with him in the effort to secure such remedial measures as he asks for in his letter "To the Czar and His Assistants."

Tolstoy's career shows how despotic is the sway of the heart and how, after all, it rules the world, for while his literary achievements have been admired, the influence which they have exerted is as nothing compared with the influence exerted by his philosophy. People enjoy reading his character sketches, his dialogues and his descriptions of Russian life, but these do not take hold upon men like his simple presentation of the doctrine of love, exemplified in his life as clearly as it is expressed by his pen. Many of his utterances are denied publication in Russia, and when printed abroad cannot be carried across the border, and yet he has made such a powerful impression upon the world that he is himself safe from molestation. He can say with impunity against his government and against the Greek church what it would be perilous for others to say, and this very security is proof positive that in Russia thought inspired by love is, as Carlyle has declared it to be everywhere, stronger than artillery parks.

CHAPTER LIX.

NOTES ON EUROPE

In the articles written on the different European nations visited I confined myself to certain subjects, but there are a number of things worthy of comment which were not germane to the matters discussed. I shall present some of these under the above head.

An American who travels in England in the winter time is sure to notice the coldness of the cars. The English people do not seem to notice this, for if they did the matter would certainly be remedied; but the stranger who has to wrap up in blankets and keep his feet upon a tank of hot water makes comparisons between the comfort of the American railway cars and those of England, much to the disadvantage of the latter. On the continent the temperature of the cars is higher and travel more pleasant.

Sheep graze in the very suburbs of London. This was a surprise to me. I saw more sheep in the little traveling that I did in England than I have seen in the United States east of the Mississippi River in years of travel. But after one has enjoyed for a few days the English mutton chop, the best in the world, he understands why English sheep are privileged to graze upon high priced lands.

The House of Lords is much more elegantly furnished than Parliament, but it excites curiosity rather than interest. It, too, is small compared with the number of Lords; but as the Lords seldom attend, the accommodations are ample. Only three members are required to constitute a quorum, and it is easy therefore to get together enough to acquiesce in measures that pass Parliament. So far as any real influence is concerned, the House of Lords might as well be abolished; and as only three are necessary to constitute a quorum, it would only be necessary to reduce the necessary number by three and make none a quorum to entirely remove this legislative body from consideration.

The Courts of England are a matter of interest to American lawyers, and a matter of curiosity to other Americans. As our Supreme Judges wear gowns, the gown is not so unfamiliar to us; but the wig, which is still worn by the English judges, barristers and solicitors, is not seen in this country. The wig is made of white curly hair and does not reach much below the ears. "When the wearer has black hair, or red hair, or in fact hair of any color except, white, the contrast between the wig and the natural hair sometimes excites a smile from those who are not impressed with the necessity for this relic of ancient times. In one of the court rooms which I visited, a son of Charles Dickens was arguing a case, and while I did not recognize any of the brilliancy and humor that have led me to place Dickens at the head of the novelists whom I have read, the son is said to be a reasonably successful lawyer. In one of the Admiralty Courts a very bushy headed wharfman was testifying to a salvage contract which he had made and he was quite emphatic in his assertions that the terms were "'alf and 'alf."

In one of the court rooms Lord Alverstone was presiding, and I had the pleasure of meeting him afterwards at dinner in Lincoln Inn Court. He is one of the finest looking men whom I met in England. He rendered a decision in favor of the United States in the matter of the recent arbitration with Canada.

Ambassador Joseph Choate placed me under obligations to him, as did also Secretary of the Legation Henry White, by their many courtesies extended.

At Mr. Choate's table I had the pleasure of meeting Right Hon. A. J. Balfour, the present Premier. He strikes one as a scholarly man rather than as a parliamentary fighter. He has had a remarkable official career. As he was and is still a bimetallist, I found him a congenial man to have at my right. Mr. Richie, who left the Cabinet because of a disagreement with Mr. Balfour on the fiscal question, sat at my left, and as he was an ardent opponent of protection, I had no trouble conversing with him. I learned afterwards that Mr. Balfour and Mr. Richie had not met since the Cabinet rupture. Among those present at the table was Hon. Leonard Courtney, for many years a member of Parliament. He was a member of the Royal Commission that presented the now world renowned report on falling prices. He also took an active part in opposing the war against the Boers. In appearance he reminds one of Senator Allen G. Thurman, having something of the same strength and ruggedness of feature. I am indebted to him for an opportunity to visit Lincoln Inn Court, where I met a number of other eminent judges besides Lord Alverstone.

Mr. Moreton Frewen was also a guest of Ambassador Choate on that occasion. He has frequently visited the United States and has written much on the subject of silver. When he came to the United States soon after the election in 1896, and was told that there had been some repeating in some of the cities, he inquired, "Is it not twice as honest to vote twice for honest money as to vote once?" I found, however, that he was working with the Chamberlain protectionists, who, by the way, call themselves "tariff reformers." He had found a Bible passage which he was using on the stump. It was taken from Genesis. Pharaoh said to someone who inquired of him, "Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you, do." It seems, however, from the more recent elections, that the people have refused to identify the modern Joseph with the ancient one.

At Mr. Choate's table the subject of story telling was discussed, and some comment made about the proverbial slowness of the Englishman in catching the point of American stories. I determined to test this with a story and told of the experience of the minister who was arguing against the possibility of perfection in this life. He asked his congregation: "Is there anyone here who is perfect?" No one arose. "Is there anyone in the congregation who has ever seen a perfect person?" No one arose. Continuing his inquiry, he asked, "Is there anyone here who has ever heard of a perfect person?" A very meek little woman arose in the rear of the room. He repeated his question to be sure that she understood, and as she again declared that she had heard of such a person, he asked her to give the name of the perfect person of whom she had heard. She replied, "My husband's first wife." All the Englishmen at the table saw the point of the story at once, and one of them remarked that he thought the story would be appreciated wherever domestic life is known.

It was my good fortune to meet in London Mr. Sidney Webb and his talented wife, both of whom have written extensively on municipal ownership and industrial co-operation.

One of the most interesting figures in European journalism is Sir Alfred Harmsworth, proprietor of the London Daily Mail. He has achieved a remarkable success and is still a young man. His country home, some thirty miles out from London, is an old English castle which he recently secured for a long term of years. The house was built more than three hundred years ago by one of the kings for a favorite courtier. The estate is large enough to include farm and pasture lands and a well stocked hunting preserve. Lady Harmsworth is one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom and entertains lavishly.

The average foreigner does not have any higher opinion than the American does of those "international marriages" by means of which some of the decaying estates of titled foreigners are being restored, but there are many marriages between our people and Europeans which rest upon affection and congeniality. The union of Rt. Hon. Joseph Chamberlain and the daughter of Ex-Secretary Endicott, who was at the head of the Navy Department during Mr. Cleveland's first administration, is a notable illustration. Mrs. Chamberlain is a charming and accomplished woman and justly popular with the Britons as well as with the Americans who visit England.

The American tourist is sure to find some of his countrymen stranded in London. I met several of them. Most of them represented themselves as related to prominent political friends, and these I could assist without inquiring too closely into the alleged relationship, but one case of a different kind failed to appeal to me. A lady who attached a high sounding title to her name sent her secretary to solicit aid. He represented her as an American who had against her parents' wishes married a titled Englishman; her husband had deserted her and her physician had told her that her health required that she spend the winter in Southern France. Her American relatives were rich, I was assured, but she was too proud to let them know of her misfortune. It was a sad story even when told by a secretary (how she could afford one I do not know), but I did not feel justified in encouraging a pride that led her to make her wants known to strangers rather than to her own kin.

In my article on the growth of municipal ownership (it will be found on another page), I referred to the work of John Burns, the noted labor leader of London. I may add here that his seven or eight years old son is the handsomest child that I saw in England. I was on the stage at Lord Rosebery's meeting and my attention was attracted to a child of unusual beauty sitting just in front of me. I asked the gentleman at my side whether he was a fair sample of the English boy; he replied that he was an excellent representative. Soon afterward the mother introduced herself to me as the wife of John Burns. I thought it an interesting coincidence that I should admire the child unconscious of his relationship to the man who had the day before impressed me so favorably.

And, speaking of Mr. Burns, I reproduce below an item which appeared in one of the London papers the day after I returned Mr. Burns' call. He sent it to me with the remark that it probably differed from the personal items to which I was accustomed. It reads: —

"Mr. Burns' Mysterious Visitor.

"Just before ten o'clock this (Friday) morning a hansom cab (plentifully bespattered with gilt coronets) stopped outside the residence of Mr. Burns, Lavender Hill. A person alighted and was received with every appearance of cordiality by Mr. Burns, who escorted him into the house. We believe the visitor was Lord Rosebery; he certainly bore a striking resemblance to that childlike peer. Possibly, however, it was only the King of Italy. In diplomatic circles it has been known for a long time that his Italian Majesty intended to visit the Municipal Mecca for much the same reasons that induced Peter the Great of Russia to come to England. It was known, also, that he would come in some sort of disguise. That Mr. Burns' visitor this morning was a person of importance is evidenced by the fact that a constable in uniform and two or three other men (probably secret service officers) were in waiting when the cab drew up. They stood round the visitor and the constable saluted respectfully. A uniformed policeman had been in the neighborhood of Mr. Burns' house and the 'Crown' all the morning."14

Westminster Abbey is one of the places which the visitor cannot well neglect. It was originally the burial place of royalty, and as the guide shows you the tablets and statues which perpetuate the memory of warrior kings and tells you how this king killed that one, and that king killed another, you recall the story of the American minister who concluded a very short discourse at the funeral of a man of questionable character by saying, "Some believe that he was a tolerable good man, while others believe that he was a very bad man, but whether he was good or bad we have this consolation, that he is dead." It is a relief to pass from the bloody annals of the earlier days and from the bloody deeds of ancient royalty to that part of the building which is honored by memorials of the great men in modern English life. To the American the most noted of those recently buried in Westminster Abbey was Gladstone. His life spanned the present and the past generation, and his character and talents are regarded as a part of the heritage of English speaking people.

A description of the Art Gallery, the public buildings, the Tower, and of the many interesting and historic places would occupy more space than I can spare at this time.

I shall pass from England with one observation. Upon the streets of London, and in fact throughout the British Isles, the rule is to "turn to the left." The American notices this at once, and until he becomes accustomed to it he is in danger of collision. If England and the United States ever come together in an unfriendly way, it will probably be accounted for by the difference in our rules. We will be turning to the right while she will be turning to the left.

Queenstown, Ireland, the first town to greet the tourist when he reaches Northern Europe and the last to bid him farewell when he departs, is a quaint and interesting old place. It is near the City of Cork, and the names upon the signs – the Murphys, the McDonalds, the O'Briens, etc., are so familiar that one might suppose it to be an American colony. Here the returning traveler has a chance to spend any change which he has left, for black thorn canes and shillalahs, "Robert Emmett" and "Harp of Erin" handkerchiefs and lace collars are offered in abundance. The price of these wares has been known to fall considerably as the moment of departure approaches. At Queenstown one can hear the Irish brogue in all its richness and if he takes a little jaunt about the town he can enjoy the humor for which the Irish are famed.

Scotland has a hardy population, due probably to the climate. Even near the southern boundary, the weather was quite wintry before Thanksgiving Day of last year. Scotch plaids are in evidence at the stores and the visitor has an opportunity to buy traveling blankets bearing the figures and the colors of the various Scottish clans. As I visited Scotland to study municipal ownership I reserved for a future trip a visit to the places of natural and historic interest.

Strange that a narrow channel should make such a difference as there is between the Englishman and the Frenchman. Some one has said, "not only is England an island, but each Englishman is an island." This puts the case a little too strongly, but one notices that the French are much more gregarious than the English and more inclined to sociability. Their attention to strangers while not more sincere is more marked.

Paris seems to be the favorite place for residence for Americans who desire to live in Europe. The climate is milder, the attractions are more numerous and the cooking, it is said, is the best in the world.

The automobile seems to have captured Paris, possibly because of its many wide streets and boulevards.

While the tipping system may not be worse in France than in other countries, it is certainly nowhere more fully developed. It is said that in some of the fashionable restaurants of Paris the tips are so valuable that the waiters, instead of receiving wages, pay a bonus for a chance to serve. But all over Europe service of every kind is rewarded with tips, and a failure to comply with the custom makes the delinquent a persona non grata. At the hotels all the attendants seem to get notice of the intended departure of a guest and they line up to receive a remembrance – porter, chambermaid, valet, bell-boy, elevator man, and some whose faces are entirely new to the guest. The cab-drivers collect the fare fixed by city ordinance and expect a tip besides. Ten per cent is the amount usually given and anything less fails to elicit thanks. An Irish jaunting car driver at Queenstown took out his tip in making change. While the traveler is often tempted to rebel against the tip system as it is found in Europe, he finally concludes that he can not reform a continent in one brief visit and submits with as good grace as possible.

Guides can be found at all the leading hotels and they are well worth what they charge. They are acquainted with all places of interest, and can act as interpreters if one wants to make inquiries or do shopping.

The rivers of Europe which have been immortalized in poetry and song – the rivers whose names we learn when as children we study geography – are a little disappointing. The Thames at London, the Seine at Paris, the Tiber at Rome, the Danube at Vienna, the Spree at Berlin, the Po in northern Italy, and the Rhine are not as large as fancy has pictured; but the lakes of Switzerland surpass description.

I regretted that I could not visit the Bay of Naples for I never think of it without recalling the lines:

I care not ifMy little skiffFloats swift or slowFrom cliff to cliff.With dreamful eyesMy spirit liesUnder the wallsOf Paradise.

Surely it must be a delightfully restful place if it justifies the description given by the poet.