spirit. For a rich man to lead the simple life is about as hard as for a camel to go through the needle's eye. How many things stand between him and the simple open air of our common humanity! Marcus Aurelius thought a man might be happy even in a palace; but it takes a Marcus Aurelius a man whose simplicity of character is incorruptible to be so. Yet I have no disposition to rail at wealth as such, though the penalties and dangers that attend it are very obvious. I never expect to see it go out of fashion. Its unequal distribution in all times, no doubt, results from natural causes.

Sooner or later things find their proper level, and the proper level of some things is on top. In the jostle and strife of this world the strong men, the master minds, are bound to be on top. This is inevitable; the very laws of matter are on their side.

Not socialism, or any other "ism," can permanently equalize the fortunes of men. The strong will dominate, the weak must succumb. “For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath." Power draws power; inefficiency loses even that which it hath. To abolish poverty, to abolish wealth, we must first abolish the natural inequality among mankind. It is as if some men had longer arms than others and could reach the fruit on the tree of opportunity beyond the grasp of their com

petitors. Shall we cut off their arms? No, we can only shame them out of making hogs of themselves and of laying up greater stores than they can possibly use. In our day and country, the golden fruit on the tree has been so abundant that the long-armed men have degenerated into wealth-maniacs, and have resorted to all manner of unfair means; they have trampled down the shorterarmed men, and gained an advantage on their prostrate bodies. That is where the injustice comes in. Some of our monstrous trusts and combines, for instance, have killed competition by foul and underhanded means; they have crowded or thrust their competitors entirely away from the tree, or else have mounted up on their shoulders. They have resorted to the methods of the robber and assassin.

I am bound to praise the simple life, because I have lived it and found it good. When I depart from it, evil results follow. I love a small house, plain clothes, simple living. Many persons know the luxury of a skin bath — a plunge in the pool or the wave unhampered by clothing. That is the simple life direct and immediate contact with things, life with the false wrappings torn away the fine house, the fine equipage, the expensive habits, all cut off. How free one feels, how good the elements taste, how close one gets to them, how they fit one's body and one's soul! To see the fire that

warms you, or better yet, to cut the wood that feeds the fire that warms you; to see the spring where the water bubbles up that slakes your thirst, and to dip your pail into it; to see the beams that are the stay of your four walls, and the timbers that uphold the roof that shelters you; to be in direct and personal contact with the sources of your material life; to want no extras, no shields; to find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to find a quest of wild berries more satisfying than a gift of tropic fruit; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest, or over a wild flower in spring — these are some of the rewards of the simple life.

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XIII

"ALL'S RIGHT WITH THE WORLD"

W

I

HETHER or not we can accept Browning's morning line, "All's right with the world,” depends upon our point of view. To the intellect, the disinterested faculties, undoubtedly, all's right with the world. To the seeing mind nature presents a series, an infinite series, of logical sequences; cause and effect are inseparably joined, and things could in no wise be other than what they are. The forces that destroy us are only going their appointed ways, and if they turned out or made an exception on our account, the very foundations of the universe would be impeached.

The creation is good, and man's explanation and vindication of it have given rise to what we call science. One recalls Whitman's lines:

"I lie abstracted and hear beautiful tales of things and the reasons of things,

They are so beautiful I nudge myself to listen."

To our æsthetic faculties, all's right with the world. What beauty, what grandeur, what perfection! the sum of all we know or can know of