in the hope that slavery will be put down by collecting slaves to build a railway-this does seem midsummer madness! A bout Ireland this is not the moment to speak. We are waiting, as is the English-speaking world, for some issue from the great debate which has shaken it now for seven years. We are Irish Nationalists on principle, and we are not enthusiastic believers in Parliamentary executives whether for Ireland or any other nation. But we must recognize in the present Government one of the boldest, most persevering, most generous efforts toward justice, ever made by English statesmen in our modern history, in the face of tremendous difficulties and treacherous conspiracies. Whether this arduous and noble effort succeed or not, it will not lie in the mouth of Irish politicians to accuse English statesmen of a failure to which Irishmen would have certainly not a little contributed. And they must see that in the attempt itself, Englishmen have made very painful sacrifices, and have shaken to its foundations their own political

and social system.

The union of Ireland with England rests on conquest, raceoppression, transmarine empire. The wave of imperialism will spend itself in time, and a new movement for peace and for justice to other races will set in. To revive it we can look to two forces. One is the growing force of the people in government. The second force is the influence of religious conscience. But it must be human, earthly religion—not theological and superhuman religion.

ENGLAND'S MEDITERRANEAN POLICY. Translated and Condensed for THE LITERARY DIGEST from a Paper in Deutsche Rundschau, Berlin, February. HERE were great hopes in France that the common-sense principles which characterized England's foreign policy during the Salisbury Administration would not be upheld by the Liberals, and that Gladstone's assumption of office would be the signal for the evacuation of Egypt. But how thoroughly English sentiment approves the Conservative policy in respect of Egypt may be gathered from the announcement of Lord Rosebery, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, immediately on his assumption of office, that he would zealously guard the continuity of the rôle which England had assumed.

uterized England's foreign policy

Hence it is that the energetic measures of the English Foreign Office in the Morocco question have excited much comment. At any rate, the dispatch of the Under Secretary for Ireland, Col. Sir J. West Ridgeway, to Tangier, is interpreted to signify that the recent triumphs of French diplomacy will tend to emphasize British policy sharply. Sir J. West Ridgeway, who has six months' leave of absence from his official post, goes to Morocco as special Commissioner, not merely to annul the fiasco of his predecessor, Sir Charles Euan Smith, but with the object of putting a spoke in the wheels of French diplomacy.

It is no mere accident that the new English special Ambassador is a man of high military rank. It is desired to impress the Sultan of Morocco with the view that the wishes formulated by Sir Charles Euan Smith were very earnestly intended. There is a certain irony in the fact that the Gladstone Cabinet should find itself committed to a policy of active intervention, so opposed to Liberal sentiment, but it must be borne in mind that England cannot be indifferent to a preponderating French influence in Morocco. The possession of Gibraltar can hardly be regarded by English Statesmen as furnishing adequate protection for the fleet in that part of the Mediterranean if France should secure a footing in Morocco. It is, therefore, not astonishing that Lord Rosebery's action has the full support of the English Unionist press. The Times even intimated that if any section of the Liberal party should seek to antagonize the policy of the Foreign Office, the Unionists would rally to its support. On the other side, the French press betrays marked excitement in respect of Sir J. West Ridgeway's special

commission. The Temps gives special prominence to the proceedings, arguing from the statements of the English press, according to which the Government measures are in consequence of the very unsatisfactory relations immediately existing between England and Morocco. The Temps especially emphasizes the view that the mission has only transitory aims in Tangier, and does not involve a fresh journey to Fez, although it admits that the former may pave the way for the latter. "But accepting the matter as it is presented," continues this organ of the French Government, "it appears that the present English Secretary for Foreign Affairs, however much he may wish to maintain the continuity of the foreign policy of the United Kingdom, certainly does not contemplate exposing another representative, and with him its own dignity, to another slap in face, similar to that experienced by Sir Charles Euan Smith." The Temps, therefore, in the absence of more positive evidence, declines to believe that Gladstone, who has so many difficulties to contend with at home, has empowered one of his Ministers to provoke a quarrel with this or that foreign Government, especially in any part of Africa, where fortune has so little befriended English arms.

In spite of the irony of the French press it may still be hoped that the Morocco question will not afford occasion for a serious conflict.

IT

THE RIGHT OF SECESSION.
M. NOVICow.

Translated and Condensed for THE LITERARY DIGEST from a Paper in
La Nouvelle Revue, Paris, February 1.

T is the interest of each individual to do the least possible amount of work in order to get the greatest possible amount of enjoyment out of life. This is the result of the physiological law that every living being shuns pain and seeks for pleasure. Since a government is composed of men, it obeys physiological law. In fact, we see that the governors try to obtain the greatest sum of enjoyment (the largest amount of taxes) while performing the least possible amount of work, that is, rendering the people the least possible amount of service. Consequently, there is a natural antagonism between the governors and the governed. What can the people do to prevent their being used in that way by their administrators? One thing only: suppress the monopoly of government, provoke competition, that is, put the persons who administer their trust badly in danger of losing their employment. In theory, in absolute governments this duty devolves on the sovereign. To him belongs the power of dismissing ministers or functionaries who abuse their prerogatives in order to promote their personal interest. Fear obliges these functionaries to govern in the most correct manner, for the competition between the people in office and those who desire their places is very great, even in the most despotic monarchies. Hence the thousand court intrigues, in which dignitaries and functionaries constantly strive to oust each other.

In constitutional States, competition between the governors becomes the very base of the parliamentary régime. A parliament cannot work efficiently unless there exist two parties which make war on each other without truce and without pity, and each of which is constantly ready to put their opponents out of office. In England the opposition is an indispensable wheel of the governmental machine.

A people finds more guarantees in the constitutional régime than in that of an absolute monarchy. Nevertheless, even the constitutional régime does not offer all desirable guarantees, since it puts minorities under the yoke of majorities: the supreme guarantee would be the right of secession. If this right of secession were recognized, the day of force would have passed away; the principle of divine right would be replaced by that of nationalities.

It must be borne in mind that political secessions are brought about in two ways: the one sudden, which we call revolution;

The second

the other slow, which we call decentralization. method has attracted the attention of historians less, because it is insensible and legal. In fact, decentralization pushed to its extreme limits is independence. From complete centralization, which is sometimes the heaviest of despotisms, to complete decentralization, you pass by intermediate degrees so numerous and so insensible that they frequently escape the attention of historians. It is an error to believe that citizens alone can bring on decentralization. There are governments which, through comprehension of their true social interests, have established decentralization in their possessions.

This is what the English have done in Canada and are trying to do in Australia. These countries enjoy almost complete independence. The only link which connects them with England is that the President of these republics is appointed by England under the title of Governor. If Canada or Australia should desire to sever this last link and proclaim their independence, it is clear that England would never undertake a costly and bloody war in order to preserve a right almost purely nominal. The advantage of giving a Governor to these countries is certainly not worth a single horse guard.

In 1862, the inhabitants of the Ionian Islands wished to be no longer under British rule, and England voluntarily ceded those islands to Greece.

It is evident, then, that the system of secession is far from being a utopia, since a great European nation has practiced it on a large scale under the name of decentralization. It is difficult to consider decentralization as an evil, whatever be the political doctrines which its advocates profess. Its object is to give a better organization to the State. There are countries

in which at certain periods decentralization has become a real popular passion. At this moment in France decentralization is considered very desirable.

It will be said that when populations are free to dispose of their destinies, political frontiers will be in a condition of perpetual instability. Well, if these frontiers change every year, where would be the larmı? Frontiers are made for men, and not men for frontiers. Moreover, this danger (if it be one) is chimerical. Doubtless, if the liberty of association were proclaimed to-morrow some States now in existence would lose some valuable provinces (Austria, Hungary, and Turkey, for example); the frontiers of others would be greatly modified and some new States would come into existence. Yet, after a period of general reconstruction, frontiers would not vary by the free consent of the peoples any more quickly than they vary nowadays under the régime of force. If the reader will take the trouble to examine an historical atlas, he will see that twenty years never pass without the frontiers of States being changed somewhere. The great economical and intellectual interests will maintain a sufficient cohesion between human societies. It is extremely difficult to tear away a province from a group of which it has been a part for centuries. Of this proposition, Alsace-Lorraine, so faithful to France after twentytwo years of separation, is an abundant proof. It would be futile to try to break the unity of Switzerland, where there are notwithstanding three different nationalities, of which one (the Italian) was but lately oppressed severely. It may be safely affirmed that under the régime of free association, national cohesion will be stronger than it is to-day; first, because competition producing a better government, the peoples, being better looked after, will have less tendency to leave the group with which they are connected; second, because the association, being the result of the will of the citizens, will be in accordance with their wishes. At the present day there exist States formed in defiance of geography, and even of common sense. These States liberty will destroy without pity, and the States which will continue to exist under the system of voluntary association, will have a vitality and a cohesion infinitely greater than States founded by force.

RADICALISM NOT PROGRESSIVE.

(ORT V. D. LINDEN is not the least of those Dutch writers

CORITES

who have lately gained international fame by their essays. He takes it for granted that Radicalism is practically on the decline. In a paper in the Gids (Amsterdam), January, he proposes a solution to the following questions:

"Why has the Radical party, formerly so full of life both in theory and practice, now become conservative? Why has this party, altough still powerful, become estranged from the present generation and lost the support of youthful energy and fire? Is the State after all more competent to supervise individual rights than it was thought to be?"

He takes it for granted that Radicalism is practically on the decline. The people begin to understand, he thinks, that individuals can be recognized only according to their worth, and that the State should curtail individual right where it becomes a public wrong. He says:

"But radicalism is directly opposed to this wholesome restraint, and can, therefore, no longer inspire those who are less selfish. Radicalism is individualism, and is based upon the longing of each individual to gain the highest possible enjoyment with the least exertion. It was hoped that political freedom would be the means to gain this object. For every complaint of poverty and want, for every outcry against hard-heartedness and injustice, the Radicals have one great prescription: more capital, with greater freedom of competition. Art, literature, intellectual and moral development are all made subservient. Although other motives than selfish ones, and other objects than those of mere physical enjoyment, are thought worthy of some consideration, yet they are subordinated to the increase of wealth. . That Radical political economy is still admissible, is partly due to the fact that it defends society against the attacks of too enthusiastic reformers, and partly to its past glories. It has cost great exertions and a large amount of self-devotion to wrest from the former holders of privileges those rights which now constitute public liberty. Radical idealism has once roused the world, and this part of its history makes it still dear to many who already lean towards a new political economy, just as the remembrance of our fiery youth makes the blood run quicker in our age, just as love's first glow lights up its later and riper stage.

But

in the meantime new thoughts have come into our heads, and new desires into our hearts. A powerful stream of Christian principle is diffused through our selfish world, and we begin to comprehend that riches do not give contentment. The peoples say to their rulers: You make us free so that we may have a chance to become rich; we would rather have moderate means so that we may be able to appreciate our freedom. We do not wish life to be a continual chase in which nature's gifts are the prizes. We would rather have these gifts used to ennoble us.'"

The author laments the consequences of unrestricted competition, a competition which destroys all our nobler qualities. It does not allow us to recognize that others have a right to the positions which they fill, but forces us to oust them from their places. He goes on to say:

"The rich increase capital upon the ruins of wasted and destroyed capital; the workers, driven hither and thither without certain means of subsistence, have ever new masters and ever try to rob each other of work and pay. ... Political science more and more proves the political economy of Radicalism a lamentable caricature. Into the United States of America pours the overflow of less civilized nations like a new invasion of Huns and Vandals, driving out and demoralizing the best elements by its unrestrained competition in mechanical labor-a biting sarcasm upon all theories about the increase of national prosperity and wealth by the unrestricted increase of population.

This must lead to the conviction that individual liberty is not of such great advantage to the people."

Mr. v. d. Linden thinks this cry of the Radicals for free competition in trade and labor very foolish, since all are forced sooner or later to take upon themselves the bonds of Coöperative Union. He writes:

"This freedom which people ask simply means the hard battle of life in which the stronger and luckier win. That is not what we desire. We do not want the brutal and cunning nor the children of fortune to rule over us. But stability and honor, virtue and gentleness cannot thrive without protection, and unlimited freedom will only cause them to be smothered like the flowers in a garden which is never weeded. In the present state of things the well-to-do are forced to increase their wealth if they

But

would retain their position; the poor must fight against their masters and against each other. A more paternal form of government than those now in vogue would relieve the weaker from these everlasting struggles, while the stronger would be more likely to use their powers for the benefit of all. there cannot be any doubt that the old Radical principles must fall. Competition is fought by coöperation. Against the political right of the individual stands the right of the community at large, and against the materialist theory of self-preservation stands the conviction that the relation of men towards each other is, at least in part, ruled by ethical laws. It is the duty of the State to assist all coöperative movements, if it would really be progressive. This should be the purpose of its social politics. Be such societies formed to further temporal or spiritual affairs, be they for the rise of wages or the suppression of vice, the State should always acknowledge such organizations. should protect them where they arise spontaneously, call them into life where short-sighted selfishness opposes them, and invest them with that authority which can alone be derived from the Government. The State is not to appear as Deus ex machina for everything in which individuals fail, but rather to watch over those organizations which rule society from the lower strata."

It

The author is a strong advocate of the division of labor. It raises, he acknowledges, the producing power of men; their peculiar talents and abilities are seen to greater advantage, and new talents are formed by which new wants will be satisfied.

"The Radicals advocate division of labor and have made it possible. But they fight against their own principles where they deny its application to government. Justice will be better served in the hands of men peculiarly gifted and trained for its administration. The Legislature would be better if a limited number of voters chose the men whom they knew to be best fitted to become lawgivers. Radicalism opposes this. But how will it answer the difficult question: Is the greater part of the people to be considered as soulless wheels in a machinery which benefits the few, or is the way to be opened to all to become living men, honored according to the degree in which they serve the community?"

SOCIOLOGICAL.

THE LIMITS OF COLLECTIVISM.
WILLIAM CLARKE.

Condensed for THE LITERARY DIGEST from a Paper in
Contemporary Review, London, February.

T is obvious that, in the realm of the great industry with which alone collectivism is concerned (because from it alone can collectivism be born), the capitalist must rule, the workman must rule, some working arrangement between the two must be effected, or a third power must control and supervise. As a matter of fact, modern society is coming to see that this latter method is the one way out of the impasse into which modern scientific contrivances have brought us. If regulations must be, shall the private capitalist regulate? That, of course, would mean absolute plutocratic despotism. But the modern world has decided that the capitalist shall not have unlimited control. And it is settled, not by any arbitrary laws, but simply because experience has proved that a capitalist is no more fit for arbitrary power than a king.

But is the workman any more fit? The collectivist contends that the London docks do not exist for the dockers, but for the people of London; that the working of the coal-mines in Great Britain affects every human being who requires artificial heat; that the operations of the Oldham cotton-mills are as truly the concern of the poor woman who buys a yard of calico as of the people who work in the mills. These and all other forms of industrial production do not exist for any particular group of workers any more than for particular groups of capitalists. They exist for us all. Precisely the same objection applies to any working-arrangement of capitalists and workmen, though with less force.

We turn, then, to the last alternative-public control, expressed through the local and national instruments of the

State. Modern society has substituted the community. in place of either workman or capitalist, as the rightful controller.

The fact of this increasing State action, so terrible to individualists, can no more be denied than they can deny the idea of an atmosphere, for it is too patent. And it is in the newest and most democratic country of all, Australia, where we find One the largest amount of public ownership and control. might, indeed, almost grade the semi-socialistic legislation of the various European countries by their extension of democratic institutions.

The great error of administrative Nihilism consists in picturing to one's self a number of originally free people being gradually enfolded in the octopus embrace of some monster, called the State. Sir James Stephen, e. g., when defining liberty as "the entire absence of restraint," gives a perfect expression of the individualist notion. That definition may do for a lawyer; it will not pass the tribunal of philosophy. Contrast it with the definition of the greatest of modern philosophers-Hegel: "The final cause of the world at large we allege to be the consciousness of its own freedom on the part of spirit, and ipse facto the reality of that freedom." From this poiut of view we see that man was not originally free. The noble savage of the last century was a perfectly mythical person. Until he began to coöperate with his fellow men, he was absolutely at the mercy of wild beasts and the dreaded forces of Nature. And as coöperation necessarily involves some regulation, some subordination of one's ordinary self to a good which is general, it follows that freedom really began in what is called restriction. Restraint is an essential feature of all organization. Rigid adherence to fixed rules is of the essence of factory work. No one could run a mill if all men were free to come and go when they chose. How could the members of the Liberty and Property Defense League travel about the country to lecture against State interference, if railway employés could do as they liked about taking trains out? No, the workers must be held to their duties under social penalties. And just in proportion as machinery becomes more costly and more complex, must the liberty of every one to do as he likes become more curtailed. But such constraint does not involve the decline of liberty. Modern industrial conditions increasing public control, means increasing substantial freedom, as contrasted with mere formal liberty for the mass of the people. The most enslaved part of the community is precisely that which has not attained modern industrial conditions: the large class of casual laborers and small workers. These are not at all under restraint of a legal nature, but they are the slaves of poverty.

Such being the case, we must infer that public control will spread, and that its spread will be for the public well-being; the more so since it proceeds from a genuine demand from the working classes themselves. The tendency to intenser industrial collectivism is inevitable. It is not due to agitations, but to the nature of capitalist industry; in other words, it is a part of the evolution of human society. The hopeless economic breakdown of the petite bourgeoisie is the leading economic fact of our time. The ring, the syndicate, is an inevitable form both of producing and distributing machinery.

But is collectivism to cover the whole field of life's varied relations? Here let it at once be admitted that, if collectivism makes every human being a mere function of the whole, a mere pin in the wheel, a mere end to others' purposes, then it is impossible; for every strenuous, ardent man will rise in revolt against it. A mechanical, uniform civilization, with complete centralization and tremendous intensity of working power, with the general conditions of life very much as they are now, with the exception that no one would starve, would be a very close approximate to hell, whether closer or not than the present system of society, I am not prepared to say.

Now, I contend that it is machinery, scientific invention,

mere mechanical produce, and effort, which will be regulated by the collective will; and further that, as time passes, all that side of life will consume a smaller and smaller proportion

of the time of every human being. The present age is scientific, desiring the extension of phenomenal knowledge, and the satisfaction of bodily needs. The social expression of this organization of knowledge, and satisfaction of elementary needs in a rational way, is what I understand by collectivism. In itself collectivism is no more a Utopia than is commercialism; it is merely another, and, as things are, a better way of doing business. It embraces the machinery of life, and so gives the higher self, the real individual, a freedom for self-development and artistic expression which individualism can never furnish.

THE STRUGGLE OF RACES.

FERDINAND BRUNETIERE.

Translated and Condensed for THE LITERARY DIGEST from a Paper in Revue des Deux Mondes, Paris, January 15. OCIOLOGY has been defined by Herbert Spencer as that branch of philosophy which treats of the constitution, phenomena, and development of human society. This definition covers a vast field, of which there are not many who cultivate a large portion. This gives us a reason for listening with attention to those who devote themselves to sociological researches, and for considering carefully the conclusions to which they may come. One of these sociologists is Professor Louis Gumplowicz, of the University of Gratz, who has just given to the world the results of his investigations in an interesting, curious, and ambitious volume.

The Professor discusses at considerable length questions which have more or less bearing on sociology, as, for instance, the origin, the formation, and the evolution of language. On this point his conclusions are, that what has impelled man necessarily and naturally to the formation of sounds and language is the powerful need of making himself understood by those of his own race. At the same time there is no necessary connection between notions and the sounds which serve to express them. Any sound whatever may designate any notion whatever. When a sound in the course of time has come to designate a special notion, that has been the result of chance alone. Language is not a free product of man in a state of isolation, but belongs to an entire nation. If there is nothing very original in these couclusions-although it has taken a half-century to get them accepted—they tend to prove that language is an essential attribute of man. I should say inseparable, not only from his nature, but from his definition. Moreover, these conclusions create between the cry of the animal and the language of man an abyss which cannot be crossed. By the same conclusions is proved the sovereignty of man over other creatures—we speak, therefore we reign.

Most interest, however, attaches to the conclusion of this sociologist, as the result of his study of the phenomena and development of human society, in regard to what, within the limits of history, is the most constant, the most universal of social facts.

The constant and universal factor, of which all other social facts are but "functions" the Professor finds to be war. History and the present time, he says, offer us the spectacle of almost uninterrupted wars between tribes, between peoples, between States, between nations; and he adds: The object of all these wars is always the same, whatever be the different forms under which this object is regarded or reached, and that end is to make use of the enemy as a means of satisfying the tribe's, State's, or nation's own needs. This is a hard doctrine. Hard though it be, who will deny that it is even more probable than hard? Peoples or nations, by whatever name you call them, is it not war which gives them a definite status, by opposing themselves to everything which interferes with their expansion, which limits their independence, or threatens their

security? The arts of peace themselves, considered in their essence, what else are they but a form of war, if in antiquity as in modern times, whether with the Phoenicians, who carried on commerce in Greece, or the English who now carry it on in India, commerce has been naught but, making profit out of the weakness or ignorance of one race by the cunning, the greed, the cupidity of another race?

Even in the same nation, what signifies, how can you explain, the subordination or superiority of social classes, unless it be the effective establishment of the power of a conquering population over a conquered one, that is, by the fact of war? If you come at last to the family or an individual, what is life, if not the effort which each of us makes to continue in a state of well-being, to develop it, to increase it, and to compel those with whom he comes in contact to be aids to his fortune, instruments of his power, material, for his pleasures, or, more generally, and in a word which covers the whole ground, helps to gratify his egotism?

This idea of the value or the mystic signification of war is due to Joseph de Maistre, but was popularized by the Darwins and the Hæckels. Still "wolves do not eat each other," as the proverb says, and the proverb is true. If the law of the world is war, it is not waged save by one species on another,—by the tiger on the gazelle, by the vulture on the dove-and all mankind comprise, perhaps, but a single species. To establish, then, the universality of the law of war it is necessary to destroy the doctrine of the unity of the human species, and this is what Mr. Gumplowicz has tried to do.

He does not discuss this question from an anthropological point of view. He confines himself to showing that, if the unity of the human species has numerous and learned defenders among naturalists, the opposite doctrine, that of polygenism has defenders, certainly not less learned and perhaps as numerous. Those who are alarmed by the moral consequences of polygenism are reassured by the words of the naturalist Agassiz and the theologian Pfleiderer. Polygenism, the Professor maintains, is, if not demonstrated absolutely, at least rendered very probable by the same means as the great hypotheses of modern science, as attraction, for example, as the unity of physical forces. The doctrine agrees with all the data furnished by history; and nearly all the facts which monogenism cannot explain are explained by polygenism.

THE

HE State of New York compels the life-insurance companies trading there to issue returns every year, which are in some respects much fuller and more instructively drawn up than our own. By the courtesy of the Equitable Company of the United States we have been able to examine the latest issue of these returns, and this is what we find there concerning the companies known in England.

In the year 1891 the Mutual Company issued new policies to the number of 48,198, but the total number of policies on its books at the year's end was augmented by 19,312 only. Were "lives" falling in rapidly then? No; this was what happened: the company paid claims on matured policies of various sorts to the number of 3,462, and to the amount of £2,250,000, but it granted "surrender value" policies or payments on 4.396 policies, the sums assured on which had amounted to £4,036,coo, and it canceled altogether, by "lapse," no less than 14,645 policies, by which £7,826,000 had been insured. At one stroke, therefore, it had swept away, or reduced to a mere bagatelle, obligations to the extent of about £12,000,000, and those whose policies had "lapsed"-by far the larger number-lost, of course, every farthing they had paid.

But the Mutual was not much worse in this respect than its neighbors. Here are their figures: the Equitable Company issued 77,136 policies of all sorts, 55,242 of them being whole

end was only increased by 32,599. Here, also, the secret of the discrepancy is open. The company paid only £2,150,000 on 3,931 policies of all sorts which had become 'claims," but it compounded on no less than 5,193 policies upon which, if they had endured, it would have ultimately had to pay £4,208,000; and it canceled as "lapses no less than 18,637 policies upon which its ultimate obligations would have been £14,140,000. The New York Life Company issued 51,519 policies of all sorts in 1891, 36,667 of these being new whole life policies, but the total number in force at the year's end was only augmented by 19,513. This is explained by the fact that, while the concern paid only £1,575,000 in the shape of claims upon matured policies of all sorts to the number of 3,057, it canceled by "surrender values" insurances to the number of 4,196, on which it had contracted to pay £3,441,000, and it wiped out as "lapses" 14,881 policies insuring £8,314,000.

Let the reader now contemplate a summary of these figures in the following table:

say,

This is only what we should expect from the motive force behind such trading. When the vital question of the ratio of expenses to premium income is raised, these companies always It is unfair to put the same test to us that you apply to old English companies. We are doing so much new business that our working expenditure is bound to be higher than theirs." This is the American companies' defense, and it contains an admission which is their condemnation. Why is new business" so very expensive? Because of the excessive commission paid to agents for bringing it. Sometimes these commissions amount to 75 per cent. of the first year's premium, sometimes to 50 per cent. of the first two years' premium; and even with English offices-it is perfectly unnecessary-the first premium is often docked by 25 per cent. for the benefit of the agent's pocket. After the initial stage the commissions become much smaller, sometimes not more than 21⁄2 per cent., and what is the result of this system? It induces agents to care for new business and that alone. Their whole aim and object is to introduce "new lives," good, bad, and indifferent, because of the splendid commissions they pocket out of the first payments made by their dupes. Having earned these commissions they do not care a straw what becomes of the policy afterwards, or of the holder. And if the issuing company has made extravagant and altogether unjustifiable promises in this policy, it is apt not to care either. Lapses" may afford less of a revenue to it than to the canvasser or agent, still its proportion of these canceled premiums is found money, and so is the sweeping reduction in its obligations it may make on "surrenders." The whole system is thus vicious and debasing: all the energies of the staff are concentrated upon new lives"-to rake in the proposals, wheedle the first premium or two out of the client, and then let him slide. He does not pay" except now and then as a decoy. A curious proof of the fever heat in which the thing is done is afforded by an item in the American accounts, filed at Albany, N. Y. It is the item Policies not taken." Even beyond "lapses" there is a depth, and the three large companies above named had together, in 1891, no less than 31,050 policies" insuring" £25,000,000 thrown back on their hands by people who could not or would not pay the first premium. Such is the galloping haste to get new lives."

66

A

INDUSTRIAL AND DECORATIVE ART.

T Chicago, says Mr. Theodore Stanton, in the North American Review for February, France will proclaim for the first time in a World's Fair the principle that the words industrial and decorative, prefixed to art, are only prænomens, and that the word art is the family name.

This piece of information by the "Commissioner Resident in Paris" of the Chicago Exposition, indicates simply a return in France to the old traditions of French art, as M. T. T, Guiffrey thus declares in the Gazette des Beaux Arts:

"The theory of art for art's sake alone has had its day. The artist who condescends to vivify with his talent a piece of furniture or a jewel, is no longer exposed to the contempt of his fellow artists. The deplorable, unhappy separation of the two old allies, art and utility, is a modern innovation, contrary to all French traditions."

To the same effect writes the eminent painter, Alma-Tadema, in the Magazine of Art.

"Art and Industry are really inseparable. One of the first things men attempted was the making of tools and weapons. Surely it was Art that discovered the most suitable. The more Art worked with Industry, the more Art developed in the right direction."

In regard to Architecture-which, although universally admitted to belong to those which are called the Fine Arts, is, nevertheless, inseparably connected with industry-much discussion is going on in leading English periodicals. In the Nineteenth Century for January Lord Grimthorpe speaks with much disparagement of the architecture of most of the buildings which have been erected in England during the last halfcentury. The interrogative title of Lord Grimthorpe's article, ARCHITECTURE A PROFESSION OR AN ART?” evidently questions the artistic character of the architectural productions of the present time in his own country, as he ungrudgingly concedes that architecture is Art "in the same sense that sculpture and painting are arts." The writer's hints towards the improvement of architecture are capable of wide application, and do not concern Great Britain alone.

"I agree with those who say that the only kind of architecture which does not seem to decline into more and more peddling and pettifogging is what is called 'commercial,' including some clubs: which is really sometimes handsome and imposing when it is not overloaded with bad ornamentation, which is generally of the most shortlived kind, because it either decays or gets choked and blackened with the smoke.

The primary defect of all new buildings, except what I called commercial, including even restoration and refitting of large churches, is the wonderful power of our architects to minify everything. Every appearance of spaciousness they seem to abhor, and they thoroughly understand how to effect that object by crowding as many parts and details into their drawings as they fancy the picture will hold, without regard to what their real size will be. Or else they are under the delusion that multiplying parts must make the whole look bigger. They have never learnt that the moment the eye perceives their smallness, it involuntarily assumes that the whole is on the babyhouse' scale. I often have to halve the number and double the size of panels and other things in plans sent to me, and have had cathedral pillars with a multitude of shafts and rings copied on a scale which would make them no taller than the copiers, who had no idea what they were doing. It is true that overgrown ornaments or details have the same effect in another way; but as they are not the fashion now I need not dwell on that, except remarking that huge vulgar cornices spread over the ceiling and the walls, always of the most impossible shapes for real cornices carrying the ceiling, are about the worst form of that disease."