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160. But, Isabel, by still keeping present the first wonder of our meeting, we shall make our hearts all feebleness. Let me then rehearse to thee what Pierre is; what life hitherto he hath been leading; and what hereafter he shall lead;—so thou wilt be prepared.'

'Nay, Pierre, that is my office; thou art first entitled to my tale; then, if it suit thee, thou shalt make me the unentitled gift of thine. Listen to me, now. The invisible things will give me strength;—it is not much, Pierre;—nor aught very marvellous. Listen, then;—I feel soothed down to utterance now.'

During some brief, interluding, silent pauses in their interview thus far, Pierre had heard a soft, slow, sad, to-and-fro, meditative stepping on the floor above; and in the frequent pauses that intermitted the strange story in the following chapter, that same soft, slow, sad, to-and-fro, meditative, and most melancholy stepping, was again and again audible in the silent room.

III

'I never knew a mortal mother. The farthest stretch of my life's memory cannot recall one single feature of such a face. If, indeed, mother of mine hath lived, she is long gone, and cast no shadow on the ground she trod. Pierre, the lips that do now speak to thee, never touched a woman's breast; I seem not of woman born. My first dim life-thoughts cluster round an old, half-ruinous house in some region, for which I now have no chart to seek it out. If such a spot did ever really exist, that too seems to have been withdrawn from all the remainder of the earth. It was a wild, dark house, planted in the midst of a round, cleared, deeply sloping space, scooped out of the middle of deep stunted pine-woods. Ever I shrunk at evening from peeping out of my window, lest the ghostly pines

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72 wisely and carefully we shall readjust the balance of animal and vegetable life to suit our human needs.

"This adjustment, I say, must have been done, and done well: done indeed for all time, in the space of Time across which my machine had leaped. The air was free from gnats, the earth from weeds or fungi; everywhere were fruits and sweet and delightful flowers; brilliant butterflies flew hither and thither. The ideal of preventive medicine was attained. Diseases had been stamped out. I saw no evidence of any contagious diseases during all my stay. And I shall have to tell you later that even the processes of putrefaction and decay had been profoundly affected by these changes.

"Social triumphs, too, had been effected. I saw mankind housed in splendid shelters, gloriously clothed, and as yet I had found them engaged in no toil. There were no signs of struggle, neither social nor

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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Rh should steal near to me, and reach out their grim arms to snatch me into their horrid shadows. In summer the forest unceasingly hummed with unconjecturable voices of unknown birds and beasts. In winter its deep snows were traced like any paper map, with dotting night-tracks of four-footed creatures, that, even to the sun, were never visible, and never were seen by man at all. In the round open space the dark house stood, without one single green twig or leaf to shelter it; shadeless and shelterless in the heart of shade and shelter. Some of the windows were rudely boarded up, with boards nailed straight up and down; and those rooms were utterly empty, and never were entered, though they were doorless. But often, from the echoing corridor, I gazed into them with fear; for the great fire-places were all in ruins; the lower tier of back-stones were burnt into one white common crumbling; and the black bricks above had fallen upon the hearths, heaped here and there with the still falling soot of long-extinguished fires. Every hearth-stone in that house had one long crack through it; every floor drooped at the corners; and outside, the whole base of the house, where it rested on the low foundation of greenish stones, was strewn with dull, yellow moulderings of the rotting sills. No name; no scrawled or written thing; no book, was in the house; no one memorial speaking of its former occupants. It was dumb as death. No grave-stone, or mound, or any little hillock around the house, betrayed any past burials of man or child. And thus, with no trace then to me of its past history, thus it hath now entirely departed and perished from my slightest knowledge as to where that house so stood, or in what region it so stood. None other house like it have I ever seen. But once I saw plates of the outside of French châteaux which powerfully recalled its dim image to me, especially the two rows of small dormer windows projecting from the inverted

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text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Fryxell, Anders


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162 hopper-roof. But that house was of wood, and these of stone. Still, sometimes, I think that house was not in this country but somewhere in Europe; perhaps in France; but it is all bewildering to me; and so you must not start at me, for I cannot but talk wildly upon so wild a theme.

'In this house I never saw any living human soul, but an old man and woman. The old man's face was almost black with age, and was one purse of wrinkles, his hoary beard always tangled, streaked with dust and earthy crumbs. I think in summer he toiled a little in the garden, or some spot like that, which lay on one side of the house. All my ideas are in uncertainty and confusion here. But the old man and the old woman seemed to have fastened themselves indelibly upon my memory. I suppose their being the only human things around me then, that caused the hold they took upon me. They seldom spoke to me; but would sometimes, of dark, gusty nights, sit by the fire and stare at me, and then mumble to each other, and then stare at me again. They were not entirely unkind to me; but, I repeat, they seldom or never spoke to me. What words or language they used to each other, this it is impossible for me to recall. I have often wished to; for then I might at least have some additional idea whether the house was in this country or somewhere beyond the sea. And here I ought to say, that sometimes I have, I know not what sort of vague remembrances of at one time—shortly after the period I now speak of—chattering in two different childish languages; one of which waned in me as the other and latter grew. But more of this anon. It was the woman that gave me my meals; for I did not eat with them. Once they sat by the fire with a loaf between them, and a bottle of some thin sort of reddish wine; and I went up to them, and asked to eat with them, and touched the loaf. But instantly the old man made a

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Rh motion as if to strike me, but did not, and the woman, glaring at me, snatched the loaf and threw it into the fire before them. I ran frightened from the room; and sought a cat, which I had often tried to coax into some intimacy, but, for some strange cause, without success. But in my frightened loneliness, then, I sought the cat again, and found her upstairs, softly scratching for some hidden thing among the litter of the abandoned fire-places. I called to her, for I dared not go into the haunted chamber; but she only gazed sideways and unintelligently toward me; and continued her noiseless searchings. I called again, and then she turned round and hissed at me; and I ran downstairs, still stung with the thought of having been driven away there, too. I now knew not where to go to rid myself of my loneliness. At last I went outside of the house, and sat down on a stone, but its coldness went up to my heart, and I rose and stood on my feet. But my head was dizzy; I could not stand; I fell, and knew no more. But next morning I found myself in bed in my uncheerable room, and some dark bread and a cup of water by me.

'It has only been by chance that I have told thee this one particular reminiscence of my early life in that house. I could tell many more like it, but this is enough to show what manner of life I led at that time. Every day that I then lived, I felt all visible sights and all audible sounds growing stranger and stranger, and fearful and more fearful to me. To me the man and the woman were just like the cat; none of them would speak to me; none of them were comprehensible to me. And the man, and the woman, and the cat, were just like the green foundation stones of the house to me; I knew not whence they came, or what cause they had for being there. I say again, no living human soul came to the house but the man and the woman; but sometimes the old man early trudged away

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text:
The Encyclopedia Americana (1920)/Bamberger, Heinrich von

BAMBERGER, bäm'bĕrg-ėr, Heinrich von, Austrian pathologist: b. Prague, 1822; d. 1888. He was graduated in medicine in 1847, and became professor of special pathology and therapeutics, first in the University of Würzburg, and in 1872 in the University of Vienna. Of his numerous publications, two have been held in particularly high esteem, ‘On the Diseases of the Chylopoietic System’ (1855), and ‘Treatise on Diseases of the Heart’ (1857).


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164 to a road that led through the woods, and would not come back till late in the evening; he brought the dark bread, and the thin, reddish wine with him. Though the entrance to the wood was not so very far from the door, yet he came so slowly and infirmly trudging with his little load, that it seemed weary hours on hours between my first descrying him among the trees, and his crossing the splintered threshold.

'Now the wide and vacant blurrings of my early life thicken in my mind. All goes wholly memoryless to me now. It may have been that about that time I grew sick with some fever, in which for a long interval I lost myself. Or it may be true, which I have heard, that after the period of our very earliest recollections, then a space intervenes of entire unknowingness, followed again by the first dim glimpses of the succeeding memory, more or less distinctly embracing all our past up to that one early gap in it.

'However this may be, nothing more can I recall of the house in the wide open space; nothing of how at last I came to leave it; but I must have been still extremely young then. But some uncertain, tossing memory have I of being at last in another round, open space, but immensely larger than the first one, and with no encircling belt of woods. Yet often it seems to me that there were three tall, straight things like pine-trees somewhere there nigh to me at times; and that they fearfully shook and snapped as the old trees used to in the mountain storms. And the floors seemed sometimes to droop at the corners still more steeply than the old floors did; and changefully drooped too, so that I would even seem to feel them drooping under me.

'Now, too, it was that, as it sometimes seems to me, I first and last chattered in the two childish languages I spoke of a little time ago. There seemed people about

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 prevails, men learn to dream and hope again, and the realization of each dream through effort encourages further fantasy and generates more effort; thus wealth multiplies, knowledge accumulates, manners take shape, and the nonmaterial values attain importance in man's hierarchy. A new civilization is born. Although something of the lost civilization is recaptured by accident, what is dug up has to be relearned; the new civilization does not grow out of its predecessor, but emerges from the efforts of the living. At any rate, history tells us, a civilization no more than gets started when a political institution attaches itself to it, feeds on it, and in the end devours it. And the roundelay starts all over again.

Is there no escape from the cycle? None has as yet been discovered. Nevertheless, the search for a formula for the "good society" has never been abandoned, hope being what it is, and out of the laboratory of the human mind has come a congeries of utopias. The connotation of unreality that the word has acquired follows from the fact that every utopia ignores the central operating lever of man: he seeks to satisfy his desires with the least expenditure of effort. Every "good society" conjured up by philosophers and reformers presupposes an imaginary man managing his behavior by the dictates of pure reason and keeping in mind the long-range effects of his every act. Since there is no such man, or none we know of, every utopian scheme is indulgently put into the category of a fairy tale, interesting but unreal.

To be sure, man is a reasoning animal, and if he were to refer the matter to his reason he would conclude that something-for-nothing is an impossibility; what one acquires "for free" must be provided by another. He would admit that a 152

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Rh struggle. The shop, the advertisement, traffic, all that commerce which constitutes the body of our world, was gone. It was natural on that golden evening that I should jump at the idea of a social paradise.

"The difficulty of increasing population had been met, I guessed, and population had ceased to increase.

"But with this change in condition comes inevitably adaptations to the change. What, unless biological science is a mass of errors, is the cause of human intelligence and vigor? Hardship and freedom: conditions under which the active, strong, and subtle survive and the weaker go to the wall; conditions that put a premium upon the loyal alliance of capable men, upon self-restraint, patience, and decision. And the institution of the family, and the emotions that arise therein, the fierce jealousy, the tenderness for offspring, parental self-devotion, all found their justification and support in the


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Rh me, some of whom talked one, and some the other; but I talked both; yet one not so readily as the other; and but beginningly as it were; still this other was the one which was gradually displacing the former. The men who—as it sometimes dreamily seems to me at times—often climbed the three strange treelike things, they talked—I needs must think—if indeed I have any real thought about so bodiless a phantom as this is—they talked the language which I speak of as at this time gradually waning in me. It was a bonny tongue; oh, seems to me so sparkling-gay and lightsome; just the tongue for a child like me, if the child had not been so sad always. It was pure children's language, Pierre; so twittering—such a chirp.

'In thy own mind, thou must now perceive, that most of these dim remembrances in me, hint vaguely of a ship at sea. But all is dim and vague to me. Scarce know I at any time whether I tell you real things, or the unrealest dreams. Always in me, the solidest things melt into dreams, and dreams into solidities. Never have I wholly recovered from the effects of my strange early life. This it is, that even now—this moment—surrounds thy visible form, my brother, with a mysterious mistiness; so that a second face, and a third face, and a fourth face peep at me from within thy own. Now dim, and more dim, grows in me all the memory of how thou and I did come to meet. I go groping again amid all sorts of shapes, which part to me; so that I seem to advance through the shapes; and yet the shapes have eyes that look at me. I turn round, and they look at me; I step forward, and they look at me.—Let me be silent now; do not speak to me.'

IV

Filled with nameless wonderings at this strange being, Pierre sat mute, intensely regarding her half-averted

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166 aspect. Her immense soft tresses of the jettiest hair had slantingly fallen over her as though a curtain were half drawn from before some saint enshrined. To Pierre, she seemed half unearthly; but this unearthliness was only her mysteriousness, not anything that was repelling or menacing to him. And still, the low melodies of her far interior voice hovered in sweet echoes in the room; and were trodden upon, and pressed like gushing grapes, by the steady invisible pacing on the floor above.

She moved a little now, and after some strange wanderings more coherently continued.

'My next memory which I think I can in some degree rely upon, was yet another house, also situated away from human haunts, in the heart of a not entirely silent country. Through this country, and by the house, wound a green and lagging river. That house must have been in some lowland; for the first house I spoke of seems to me to have been somewhere among mountains, or near to mountains;—the sounds of the far waterfalls,—I seem to hear them now; the steady up-pointed cloud-shapes behind the house in the sunset sky—I seem to see them now. But this other house, this second one, or third one, I know not which, I say again it was in some lowland. There were no pines around it; few trees of any sort; the ground did not slope so steeply as around the first house. There were cultivated fields about it, and in the distance farm-houses and out-houses, and cattle, and fowls, and many objects of that familiar sort. This house I am persuaded was in this country; on this side of the sea. It was a very large house, and full of people; but for the most part they lived separately. There were some old people in it, and there were young men, and young women in it,—some very handsome; and there were children in it. It seemed a happy place to some of

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74 dangers of the young. Now, where are those imminent dangers? There is a sentiment arising, and it will grow, against connubial jealousy, against fierce maternity, against passion of all sorts; unnecessary things now, and things that make us uncomfortable, savage survivals, discords in a refined and pleasant life.

"I thought of the physical slightness of the people, their lack of intelligence, and those big abundant ruins, and it strengthened my belief in a perfect conquest of Nature. For after the battle comes Quiet. Humanity had been strong, energetic, and intelligent, and had used all its abundant vitality to alter the conditions under which it lived. And now came the reaction of the altered conditions.

"Under the new conditions of perfect comfort and security, that restless energy, that with us is strength, would become weakness. Even in our own time certain tendencies and


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Rh these people; many of them were always laughing; but it was not a happy place for me.

'But here I may err, because of my own consciousness I cannot identify in myself—I mean in the memory of my whole foregoing life,—I say, I cannot identify that thing which is called happiness; that thing whose token is a laugh, or a smile, or a silent serenity on the lip. I may have been happy, but it is not in my conscious memory now. Nor do I feel a longing for it, as though I had never had it; my spirit seeks different food from happiness; for I think I have a suspicion of what it is. I have suffered wretchedness, but not because of the absence of happiness, and without praying for happiness. I pray for peace—for motionlessness—for the feeling of myself, as of some plant, absorbing life without seeking it, and existing without individual sensation. I feel that there can be no perfect peace in individualness. Therefore, I hope one day to feel myself drank up into the pervading spirit animating all things. I feel I am an exile here. I still go straying.—Yes; in thy speech, thou smilest.—But let me be silent again. Do not answer me. When I resume, I will not wander so, but make short end.'

Reverently resolved not to offer the slightest let or hinting hindrance to the singular tale rehearsing to him, but to sit passively and receive its marvellous droppings into his soul, however long the pauses; and as touching less mystical considerations, persuaded that by so doing he should ultimately derive the least nebulous and imperfect account of Isabel's history; Pierre still sat waiting for her resuming, his eyes fixed upon the girl's wonderfully beautiful ear, which, chancing to peep forth from among her abundant tresses, nestled in that blackness like a transparent seashell of pearl.

She moved a little now; and after some strange

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Rh desires, once necessary to survival, are a constant source of failure. Physical courage and the love of battle, for instance, are no great help—may even be hindrances—to a civilized man. And in a state of physical balance and security, power, intellectual as well as physical, would be out of place. For countless years I judged there had been no danger of war or solitary violence, no danger from wild beasts, no wasting disease to require strength of constitution, no need of toil. For such a life, what we should call the weak are as well equipped as the strong, are, indeed, no longer weak. Better equipped indeed they are, for the strong would be fretted by an energy for which there was no outlet. No doubt the exquisite beauty of the buildings I saw was the outcome of the last surgings of the now purposeless energy of mankind before it settled down into perfect harmony with the conditions under which it


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168 wanderings more coherently continued; while the sound of the stepping on the floor above—it seemed to cease.

'I have spoken of the second or rather the third spot in my memory of the past, as it first appeared to me; I mean, I have spoken of the people in the house, according to my very earliest recallable impression of them. But I stayed in that house for several years—five, six, perhaps, seven years—and during that interval of my stay, all things changed to me, because I learned more, though always dimly. Some of its occupants departed; some changed from smiles to tears; some went moping all the day; some grew as savages and outrageous, and were dragged below by dumb-like men into deep places, that I knew nothing of, but dismal sounds came through the lower floor, groans and clanking fallings, as of iron in straw. Now and then, I saw coffins silently at noonday carried into the house, and in five minutes' time emerge again, seemingly heavier than they entered; but I saw not who was in them. Once, I saw an immense-sized coffin, endwise pushed through a lower window by three men who did not speak; and watching, I saw it pushed out again, and they drove off with it. But the numbers of those invisible persons who thus departed from the house, were made good by other invisible persons arriving in close carriages. Some in rags and tatters came on foot, or rather were driven on foot. Once I heard horrible outcries, and peeping from my window, saw a robust but squalid and distorted man, seemingly a peasant, tied by cords with four long ends to them, held behind by as many ignorant-looking men who with a lash drove the wild squalid being that way toward the house. Then I heard answering hand-clappings, shrieks, howls, laughter, blessings, prayers, oaths, hymns, and all audible confusions issuing from all the chambers of the house.

'Sometimes there entered the house—though only

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text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Edward, Thomas


text:
The Encyclopedia Americana (1920)/Bamberger, Ludwig

BAMBERGER, Ludwig, German statesman: b. Mainz 1823; d. 1899. Born of Jewish parents, he was educated at Giessen, Heidelberg and Göttingen; took part in the revolution of 1849, condemned to death, went into exile and returned on the amnesty of 1866, and was a member of the German Reichstag 1873-80. He was an advocate of free trade, and on account of his opposition to Bismarck's economic policy, he left the National Liberal party and joined the “Secessionists,” a group which later became a part of the German Liberal Party. His publications include ‘Monsieur de Bismarck’ (of which there is an English translation); ‘The Five Milliards’; ‘Germany and Socialism’, and a volume of reminiscences.


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 her father (if well off) presents her with a cow from his herd. This animal is called ubulungu or “doer of good” and is regarded as sacred. It must never be killed nor may its descendants, as long as it lives. A hair of its tail is tied round the neck of each child immediately after birth. In large kraals there is the “dancing-ox,” usually of red colour. Its horns are trained to peculiar shapes by early mutilations. It figures in many ceremonies when it is paid a kind of knee-worship.

The Kaffirs have three, not four, seasons: “Green Heads,” “Kindness” and “Cutting”; the first and last referring to the crops, the second to the “warm weather.” Women and children only eat after the men are satisfied. A light beer made from sorghum is the national drink.

Of the few industries the chief are copper and iron smelting, practised by the Tembu, Zulu and Swazi, who manufacture weapons, spoons and agricultural implements both for their own use and for trade. The Swazi display some taste in wood-carving, and others prepare a peculiar water-tight vessel of grass. Characteristic of this race is their neglect of the art of navigation. Not the smallest boats are ever made for crossing the rivers, much less for venturing on the sea, except by the Makazana of Delagoa Bay and by the Zambezi people, who have canoes and flat-bottomed boats made of planks.

The Kaffir race had a distinct and apparently very old political system, which may be described as a patriarchal monarchy limited by a powerful aristocracy. Under British rule the tribal independence of the Kaffirs has disappeared. Varying degrees of autonomy have been granted, but the supreme powers of the chiefs have gone, the Swazi being in 1904 the last to be brought to order. In the Transkeian Territories tribal organization exists, but it is modified by special legislation and the natives are under the control of special magistrates. To a considerable extent in Natal and throughout Zululand the Kaffirs are placed in reserves, where tribal organization is kept up under European supervision. In Basutoland the tribal organization is very strong, and the power of chiefs is upheld by the imperial government, which exercises general supervision.

See Gustav Fritsch, Die Eingeborenen Südafrikas, with atlas, 30 plates and 120 typical heads (Breslau, 1872); W. H. I. Bleek, Comparative Grammar of the South African Languages (London and Cape Town, pt. i., 1862; pt. ii., 1869); Theo. Hahn, Grundzüge einer Grammatik des Herero (Berlin, 1857); Dr Colenso, Grammar of the Zulu-Kafir Language (1855); Girard de Rialle, Les Peuples de l’Afrique et de l’Amérique (Paris, 1880); G. W. Stow, The Native Races of South Africa (London, 1905); G. McC. Theal, History and Ethnography of South Africa, 1505 to 1795 (3 vols., London, 1907–1910) and History of South Africa since 1795 (5 vols., London, 1908), specially valuable for the political history of the Kaffirs; Caesar C. Henkel, The Native or Transkeian Territories (Hamburg, 1903); The Natives of South Africa (1901), and its sequel, The South African Natives (1908); Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir (1904) and Kafir Socialism. The last four books deal with the many social and economic questions raised by the contact of the Kaffir races with Europeans.

 KAFFRARIA, the descriptive name given to the S.E. part of the Cape province, South Africa. Kaffraria, i.e. the land of the (q.v.), is no longer an official designation. It used to comprise the districts now known as King William’s Town and East London, which formed British Kaffraria, annexed to Cape Colony in 1865, and the territory beyond the Kei River south of the Drakensberg Mountains as far as the Natal frontier, known as Kaffraria proper. As a geographical term it is still used to indicate the Transkeian territories of the Cape provinces comprising the four administrative divisions of Transkei, Pondoland, Tembuland and Griqualand East, incorporated into Cape Colony at various periods between 1879 and 1894. They have a total area of 18,310 sq. m., and a population (1904) of 834,644, of whom 16,777 were whites. Excluding Pondoland—not counted previously to 1904—the population had increased from 487,364 in 1891 to 631,887 in 1904.

Physical Features.—The physical characteristics of Kaffraria bear a general resemblance to those of the Cape province proper. The country rises from sea-level in a series of terraces to the rugged range of the Drakensberg. Between that range and the coast-lands are many subsidiary ranges with fertile valleys through which a large number of rivers make their way to the Indian Ocean. These rivers have very rapid falls in comparison to their length and when less than 40 m. from the coast are still 2000 ft. above sea-level. The chief, beginning at the south, are the Kei, the Bashee, the Umtata, the St John’s or Umzimvubu, and the Umtamvuna, which separates Kaffraria from Natal. The St John’s River rises in the Drakensberg near the Basuto-Natal frontier. The river valley has a length of 140 m., the river with its many twists being double that length. It receives numerous tributaries, one, the Tsitza, possessing a magnificent waterfall, the river leaping over an almost vertical precipice of 375 ft. The St John’s reaches the sea between precipitous cliffs some 1200 ft. high and covered with verdure. The mouth is obstructed by a sand bar over which there is 14 ft. of water. None of the rivers of Kaffraria except the St John’s is navigable.

Kaffraria is one of the most fertile regions in South Africa. The mountain gorges abound in fine trees, thick forest and bush cover the river banks, grass grows luxuriantly in the lower regions, and the lowlands and valleys are favourable to almost any kind of fruit, field and garden cultivation. The coast districts are very hot in summer, the temperature from October to April on an average varying from 70° to 90° F., while in winter the day temperature is seldom below 50°, though the nights are very cold. But the variation in altitude places climates of all grades within easy reach, from the burning coast to the often snow-clad mountain. Thunderstorms are frequent in summer; the winters are generally dry. On the whole the climate is extremely healthy. At St John’s are sulphur springs.

A considerable area is devoted to the raising of wheat and other cereals, especially in the northern district (Griqualand East), where in the higher valleys are many farms owned by Europeans. Large quantities of stock are raised. Most of the land is held by the natives under tribal tenure, and the ease with which their wants are supplied is detrimental to the full cultivation of the land. Kaffraria is, however, one of the chief recruiting grounds for labour throughout South Africa. Most of the white inhabitants are engaged in trade.

Towns and Communication.—The chief town is (q.v.), pop. (1904), 2903, the capital of Griqualand East. Umtata (2100 ft. above the sea, pop. 2342) on the river of the same name, capital of Tembuland, is the residence of an assistant chief magistrate, headquarters of a division of the Cape Mounted Rifles, and seat of the Anglican bishopric of Kaffraria. The principal buildings are the cathedral, a Gothic structure, built 1901–1906, and the town-hall, a fine building in Renaissance style, erected 1907–1908. Port St John is the chief town in Pondoland, and the only harbour of the country. Butterworth is the chief town in Transkei. Cala (pop. about 1000), in the N.W. part of Tembuland, is the educational centre of Kaffraria. A railway, 107 m. long, the first link in the direct Cape-Natal line, runs from Indwe, 65 m. from Sterkstroom Junction on the main line from East London to the Transvaal, to Maclear, an agricultural centre in Griqualand East. Another railway parallel but south of that described also traverses Kaffraria. Starting from Amabele, a station on the main line from East London to the north, it goes via Butterworth (132 m. from East London) to Umtata (234 m.).

Administration and Justice.—The Cape administrative and judicial system is in force, save as modified by special enactments of the Cape parliament. A “Native Territories Penal Code” which came into operation on the 1st of January 1887 governs the relations of the natives, who are under the jurisdiction of a chief magistrate (resident at Cape Town) with subordinate magistrates in the Territories. In civil affairs the tribal organization and native laws are maintained. No chief, however, exercises criminal jurisdiction. Since 1898 certain provisions of the Glen Grey Act have been applied to Kaffraria (see ). The revenue is included in the ordinary budget of the Cape province. The expenditure on Kaffraria considerably exceeds the revenue derived from it. The franchise laws are the same as in the Cape proper. Though the Kaffirs outnumber the whites by fifty to one, white men form the bulk of the electorate, which in 1904 numbered 4778.

Religion.—Numbers of Protestant missionary societies have churches and educational establishments in Kaffraria, but, except in Fingoland, the bulk of the Kaffirs are heathen. The Griquas profess Christianity and have their own churches and ministers. The Anglican diocese of St John’s, Kaffraria, was founded in 1873.

Annexation to the Cape.—The story of the conflicts between the Kaffir tribes and the Cape colonists is told under. As early as 1819 Kaffirland, or Kaffraria, was held not to extend west beyond the Keiskamma River. The region east of that river as far as the Kei River became in 1847 the Crown colony of British Kaffraria, and was annexed to Cape Colony in 1865. The Transkeian territories remained in nominal independence until 1875, when the Tembu sought British protection. An inter-tribal war in 1877 between Fingo and Gcaleka resulted in the territory of the Gcaleka chief Kreli being occupied by the British. It was not, however, till 1879 that Fingoland and the Idutywa Reserve, together with the district then commonly called Noman’s-land, were proclaimed an integral part of the Cape. About this time most of the rest of Kaffraria came under British control, but it was 1885 before Gcalekaland, the coast region of Transkei, and the various districts comprising Tembuland—Bomvanaland on the coast, Tembuland Proper and Emigrant Tembuland—were annexed to the colony. By the annexation, the frontier of the colony was

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United States Code/Title 42/Chapter 116

Title 42 — The Public Health and Welfare — Emergency Planning and Community Right-To-Know

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Rh transiently, departing within the hour they came—people of a then remarkable aspect to me. They were very composed of countenance; did not laugh; did not groan; did not weep; did not make strange faces; did not look endlessly fatigued; were not strangely and fantastically dressed; in short, did not at all resemble any people I had ever seen before, except a little like some few of the persons of the house, who seemed to have authority over the rest. These people of a remarkable aspect to me, I thought they were strangely demented people;—composed of countenance, but wandering of mind; soul-composed and bodily-wandering, and strangely demented people.

'By and by, the house seemed to change again, or else my mind took in more, and modified its first impressions. I was lodged upstairs in a little room; there was hardly any furniture in the room; sometimes I wished to go out of it; but the door was locked. Sometimes the people came and took me out of the room, into a much larger and very long room, and here I would collectively see many of the other people of the house, who seemed likewise brought from distant and separate chambers. In this long room they would vacantly roam about, and talk vacant talk to each other. Some would stand in the middle of the room gazing steadily on the floor for hours together, and never stirred, but only breathed and gazed upon the floor. Some would sit crouching in the corner, and sit crouching there, and only breathe and crouch in the corners. Some kept their hands tight on their hearts, and went slowly promenading up and down, moaning and moaning to themselves. One would say to another—"Feel of it—here, put thy hand in the break." Another would mutter—"Broken, broken, broken,"—and would mutter nothing but that one word broken. But most of them were dumb, and could not, or would not speak, or

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76 lived—the flourish of that triumph which began the last great peace. This has ever been the fate of energy in security; it takes to art and to eroticism, and then come languor and decay.

"Even this artistic impetus would at last die away—had almost died in the Time I saw. To adorn themselves with flowers, to dance, to sing in the sunlight; so much was left of the artistic spirit, and no more. Even that would fade in the end into a contented inactivity. We are kept keen on the grindstone of pain and necessity, and it seemed to me that here was that hateful grindstone broken at last!

"As I stood there in the gathering dark I thought that in this simple explanation I had mastered the problem of the world—mastered the whole secret of these delicious people. Possibly the checks they had devised for the increase of population had succeeded too well, and their


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170 had forgotten how to speak. They were nearly all pale people. Some had hair white as snow, and yet were quite young people. Some were always talking about Hell, Eternity, and God; and some of all things as fixedly decreed; others would say nay to this, and then they would argue, but without much conviction either way. But once nearly all the people present—even the dumb, moping people, and the sluggish persons crouching in the corners—nearly all of them laughed once, when after a whole day's loud babbling, two of these predestinarian opponents, said each to the other—"Thou hast convinced me, friend; but we are quits; for so also, have I convinced thee, the other way; now then, let's argue it all over again; for still, though mutually converted, we are still at odds." Some harangued the wall; some apostrophised the air; some hissed at the air; some lolled their tongues out at the air; some struck the air; some made motions, as if wrestling with the air, and fell out of the arms of the air, panting from the invisible hug.

'Now, as in the former thing, thou must, ere this, have suspected what manner of place this second or third house was, that I then lived in. But do not speak the word to me. That word has never passed my lips; even now, when I hear the word, I run from it; when I see it printed in a book, I run from the book. The word is wholly unendurable to me. Who brought me to the house; how I came there, I do not know. I lived a long time in the house; that alone I know; I say I know, but still I am uncertain; still, Pierre, still the—oh the dreaminess, the bewilderingness—it never entirely leaves me. Let me be still again.'

She leaned away from him; she put her small hard hand to her forehead; then moved it down, very slowly, but still hardly over her eyes, and kept it there, making

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Rh no other sign, and still as death. Then she moved and continued her vague tale of terribleness.

'I must be shorter; I did not mean to turn off into the mere offshootings of my story, here and there; but the dreaminess I speak of leads me sometimes; and I, as impotent then, obey the dreamy prompting. Bear with me; now I will be briefer.

'It came to pass, at last, that there was a contention about me in the house; some contention which I heard in the after rumour only, not at the actual time. Some strangers had arrived; or had come in haste, being sent for to the house. Next day they dressed me in new and pretty, but still plain clothes, and they took me downstairs, and out into the air, and into a carriage with a pleasant-looking woman, a stranger to me; and I was driven off a good way, two days nearly we drove away, stopping somewhere over-night; and on the evening of the second day we came to another house, and went into it, and stayed there.

'This house was a much smaller one than the other, and seemed sweetly quiet to me after that. There was a beautiful infant in it; and this beautiful infant always archly and innocently smiling on me, and strangely beckoning me to come and play with it, and be glad with it; and be thoughtless, and be glad and gleeful with it; this beautiful infant first brought me to my own mind, as it were; first made me sensible that I was something different from stones, trees, cats; first undid in me the fancy that all people were as stones, trees, cats; first filled me with the sweet idea of humanness; first made me aware of the infinite mercifulness, and tenderness, and beautifulness of humanness; and this beautiful infant first filled me with the dim thought of Beauty; and equally, and at the same time, with the feeling of the Sadness: of the immortalness and universalness of the

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Rh had rather diminished than kept stationary. That would account for the abandoned ruins. Very simple was my explanation, and plausible enough—as most wrong theories are.

"As I stood there musing over this too perfect triumph of man, the full moon, yellow and gibbous, came up out of an overflow of silver light in the northeast. The bright little figure ceased to move about below, a noiseless owl flitted by, and I shivered with the chill of the night. I determined to descend and find where I could sleep.

"I looked for the building I knew. Then my eye traveled along to the figure of the white sphinx upon the pedestal of bronze, growing distinct as the light of the rising moon grew brighter. I could see the silver birch against it. There was the tangle of rhododendron bushes, black in the pale light, and there was the little lawn. I looked at the lawn again. A queer doubt chilled my


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 Society consisting entirely of consumers, say pirates, could not exist. He would concede without argument that production must precede consumption, that the purpose of production is consumption, that nothing would be produced if there were no prospect of enjoyment. He need not be an economist to arrive at such conclusions. All that, he would say, is common sense.

Yet, how easily does common sense take flight before the prospect of a gratuity or an unearned profit! Reason is not lacking in sufficient logic to circumvent reason when a handout is involved. The beneficiary finds nothing incongruous in a regimen of "bread and circuses"; here is visible evidence that something-for-nothing is not a mirage. Is it cold logic that generates an urgency for "protective" tariffs or a passion for getting more than one gives? When the State undertakes to provide "cheap" electricity for one section of the population at the expense of another, there are reasoners enough to support the arrangement. The libraries are full of tomes justifying subsidies of all sorts, and leveling—or the forcible taking from one to give to another—has long been the favorite preoccupation of professorial brains. Aristotle, the peer of logicians, found a syllogism to support the oldest form of exploitation known to man.

Yes, man is endowed with the gift of reason, but he is also possessed of appetites and an aversion to labor, and too often his reason bends to his other characteristics. The failure of utopians to accept this fact, or to accept man as he is, not as he ought to be, gives their schemes a dreamlike quality.

Generally speaking, utopianism falls into two main categories: the anarchistic and the communistic. The one posits as its primary premise the essential reasonableness and goodness of man, which are perverted by the introduction of force. 153

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172 Sadness. I now feel that I should soon have gone,——stop me now; do not let me go that way. I owe all things to that beautiful infant. Oh, how I envied it, lying in its happy mother's breast, and drawing life and gladness, and all its perpetual smilingness from that white and smiling breast. That infant saved me; but still gave me vague desirings. Now I first began to reflect in my mind; to endeavour after the recalling past things; but try as I would, little could I recall, but the bewilderingness;—and the stupor, and the torpor, and the blankness, and the dimness, and the vacant whirlingness of the bewilderingness. Let me be still again.'

And the stepping on the floor above,—it then resumed.

V

'I must have been nine, or ten, or eleven years old, when the pleasant-looking woman carried me away from the large house. She was a farmer's wife; and now that was my residence, the farm-house. They taught me to sew, and work with wool, and spin the wool; I was nearly always busy now. This being busy, too, this it must have been, which partly brought to me the power of being sensible of myself as something human. Now I began to feel strange differences. When I saw a snake trailing through the grass, and darting out the fire-fork from its mouth, I said to myself, That thing is not human, but I am human. When the lightning flashed, and split some beautiful tree, and left it to rot from all its greenness, I said, That lightning is not human, but I am human. And so with all other things. I cannot speak coherently here; but somehow I felt that all good, harmless men and women were human things, placed at cross-purposes, in a world of snakes and lightnings, in a world of horrible and inscrutable inhumanities. I have had no training of any

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78. 'No,' said I stoutly to myself, 'that was not the lawn.'

"But it was the lawn. For the white leprous face of the sphinx was toward it. Can you imagine what I felt as this conviction came home to me? But you cannot. The Time Machine was gone!

"At once, like a lash across the face, came the possibility of losing my own age, of being left helpless in this strange new world. The bare thought of it was an actual physical sensation. I could feel it grip me at the throat and stop my breathing.


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 It is the policeman, says the anarchist, who makes the criminal; remove the one and the other disappears. The communistic utopian, on the other hand, puts all the blame for social disorder on the institution of private property; abolish that institution (with or without force, according to the utopian's conceit), and the "good society" will follow as a matter of course. (Incidentally, most anarchistic utopians would also abolish private property by the very force they decry; apparently, force is commendable when it is used by the right person for the right purpose.) The anarchistic premise, that the policeman came before and made the thief, is lacking in historical support; the sheriff came only because cattle rustling called for him. The communistic premise, that private property is the root of all social evil, assumes that man works for the sake of working, and without regard for the prospect of possession and enjoyment. Neither premise coincides with observable experience, and therefore the syllogisms built on each hangs in the mid-air of unreality.

Significantly, all utopian programs pay considerable attention to the political organization of man. The philosophic anarchist (relying on the perfectibility of man through education) is convinced that when the individual comes to his senses he will not need or tolerate the State. The communist believes that an all-powerful State is necessary not only for the wiping out of private property but also of the inclination of the individual to own, and expects that instrument to "wither away" when it has accomplished that purpose. Then there are the Utopians who dwell somewhere between these schools; accepting the State as a desirable or unavoidable fact of life (or even enjoying divine sanction), they propose to rid it of its admitted imperfections by legalistic tinkering; The Republic of Plato is the best known of this type. All 154

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 utopias are characterized by an avoidance of the fact that the State is made by man and in his own image, that if he were not constantly on the prowl for something-for-nothing he would never build such an institution.

Some indirect recognition of the fact that the State is the image of man, or vice versa, is found in those utopias that lay claim to scientific exactitude. Beginning with a theory that is nothing but an unproven hypothesis, they do pretty well in endowing the State with a socially beneficial character. The theory holds that man is not a reasoning animal, or even a thinking one, and is certainly without fixed or immutable instincts; his behavior consists entirely of reflex actions induced by environmental conditioning. From this premise (which its proponents accept as axiomatic) it follows that man will be what his environmental influences compel him to be, and that the "perfect" man will emerge from the "perfect" environment. It is the mold that makes the man. If, therefore, we would improve the condition of man we must apply ourselves to the improvement of the mold into which this bit of protoplasm is to be poured.

But how and by whom is this mold to be built? It is admittedly a colossal job, which only the State with its monopoly of power is capable of performing. But the State itself is a human institution, and the question arises as to the capacity of the nonthinking human to put the State on the job of producing the "perfect" environment. The "scientists" get themselves out of this logical quandary by simply putting their basic theory aside for the moment and admitting, at least tacitly, that some people are in fact capable of thinking. For an as-yet-unexplained reason, these "scientists" have been able to free themselves from their environmental influences and are actually capable of cerebration; for that reason they 155

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80 suppose I covered the whole distance, from the hill crest to the little lawn, two miles perhaps, in ten minutes. And I am not a young man. I cursed aloud as I ran at my confident folly in leaving the machine, wasting good breath thereby. I cried aloud, and none answered. Not a creature seemed to be stirring in that moonlit world.

"When I reached the lawn my worst fears were realized. Not a trace of the thing was to be seen. I felt faint and cold when I faced the empty space among the black tangle of bushes. I ran round it furiously, as if the thing might be hidden in a corner, and then stopped abruptly with my hands clutching my hair. Above me towered the sphinx upon the bronze pedestal, white, shining, leprous in the light of the rising moon. It seemed to smile in mockery of my dismay.

"I might have consoled myself by imagining the little people had put


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 have been chosen (by themselves, of course, since nobody else is capable of passing judgment on their capacities) to draw up the blueprint for the "perfect" environment which, by use of its force, the State can effectuate. Certainty of success will be assured by entrusting the power to the "scientists." And we who cannot think are for that very reason estopped from questioning either their logic or the soundness of their utopia.

Is utopia—the "good society"—an impossibility? One would be rash indeed to say so categorically. Yet, anyone who speculates on man's ability to put his social life in perfect order must take into account the biological fact of longevity. Man seeks to satisfy his desires while he lives, not when death has cut short his appetites, and actuarial figures tell him just about how long he may expect to live. His pattern of behavior is necessarily determined by his expectancy. Which is to say that in the nature of things his is a short-run view, although his perspective may be lengthened by a concern for the welfare of his immediate posterity, his children and grandchildren in being. Beyond that there is the "future of his country," a speculative interest that can have little bearing on his day-to-day chores.

The banker knows full well that the State's bonds in his vaults do not represent goods produced but are merely claims on production; the "interest" they yield is taxes, draughts on the market place, and he is in fact a tax collector once removed. Nor is he unaware of the inflationary character of these pieces of paper: that in the long run they depreciate the value of all his assets as well as those of his depositors, that the market place is indeed impoverished by his holdings. What's more, if he stops to think about it, he must know 156

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Rh Found that the sudden wail his lady made Dwelt in his fancy: did he know her worth, Her beauty even? should he not be taught, Ev'n by the price that others set upon it, The value of that jewel he had to guard?

Suddenly came her notice and we past, I wish our lover to his native Bay.

This love is of the brain, the mind, the soul: That makes the sequel pure; tho' some of us Beginning at the sequel know no more. Not such am I: and yet I say, the bird That will not hear my call, however sweet, But if my neighbour whistle answers him— What matter? there are others in the wood Yet when I saw her (and I thought him crazed, Tho' not with such a craziness as needs  Rh


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Rh the mechanism in some shelter for me, had not I felt assured of their physical and intellectual inadequacy. That is what dismayed me: the sense of some hitherto unsuspected power through whose intervention my invention had vanished. Yet of one thing I felt assured: unless some other age had produced its exact duplicate, the machine could not have moved in Time. The attachment of the levers—I will show you the method later—prevented anyone from tampering with it in that way when they were removed. It had been moved, and was hid, only in Space. But, then, where could it be?

"I think I must have had a kind of frenzy. I remember running violently in and out among the moonlit bushes all round the sphinx, and startling some white animal that in the dim light I took for a small deer. I remember, too, late that night, beating the bushes with my clenched fists until my knuckles were gashed


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 carried to the Umtata River, so that by 1885 only Pondoland, fronting on the Indian Ocean, separated the Cape from Natal. In Pondoland, Port St John, proclaimed British territory in 1881, was, along with the lower reaches of the St John’s River, incorporated with Cape Colony in 1884; in 1886 the Xesibe country (Mount Ayliff) was annexed to the Cape and added to Griqualand East; and in the following year Rhode Valley was included within the boundary line. The rest of Pondoland, chiefly in virtue of a British protectorate established over all the coast region in 1885, was already more or less under British control, and in 1894 it was annexed to the Cape in its entirety. Thus the whole of Kaffraria was incorporated in Cape Colony, with the exception of some 1550 sq. m., then part of Noman’s-land, annexed by Natal in 1866 and named Alfred county. To the wise administration of Major Sir Henry G. Elliot, who served in Kaffraria in various official capacities from 1877 to 1903, the country owes much of its prosperity.

Particulars concerning each of the four divisions of Kaffraria follow.

Griqualand East (area, 7594 sq. m.), so called to distinguish it from Griqualand West, a district north of the Orange River, lies between Basutoland (N.W.), Natal (N.E.), Tembuland (S.W.) and Pondoland (S.E.). It occupies the southern slopes of the Drakensberg or the fertile valleys at their feet. It includes most of the region formerly called Noman’s-land, and afterwards named Adam Kok’s Land from the Griqua chief who occupied it in 1862 with the consent of the British authorities, and governed the country till his death in 1876, establishing a volksraad on the Dutch model. The Griquas are still ruled by an officially appointed headman. The majority of the inhabitants are Basutos and Kaffirs (Pondomisi, Ama-Baka and other tribes). The Griquas number about 6000. Since its annexation to Cape Colony Griqualand East has made fairly rapid progress. The population rose from 121,000 in 1881 to 222,685 in 1904, of whom 5901 were whites. Stock-breeding on the uplands, tillage on the lower slopes of the Drakensberg, are the chief industries. On these slopes and uplands the climate is delightful and well suited to Europeans. There is considerable trade with Basutoland in grain and stock, and through Kokstad with Port St John and Port Shepstone, Natal. Much of the best agricultural land is owned by Europeans.

Tembuland (area, 4122 sq. m.), which lies S.W. of Griqualand East and comprises the districts of Tembuland Proper, Emigrant Tembuland and Bomvanaland, takes its name from, the Tembu nation, called sometimes Tambookies, one of the most powerful of the Kaffir groups. In the national genealogies the Tembu hold an honourable position, being traditionally descended from Tembu, elder brother of Xosa, from whom most of the other Kaffirs claim descent. The inhabitants increased from about 160,000 in 1881 to 231,472 in 1904, of whom 8056 were whites. The chief town is Umtata.

Transkei (area, 2552 sq. m.) comprises the districts of Fingoland, the Idutywa Reserve and Gcalekaland, this last being named from the Gcaleka nation, who claim to be the senior branch of the Xosa family, the principal royal line of the Kaffir tribes. They still form the chief element of the population, which rose from 136,000 in 1881 to 177,730 in 1904 (1707 whites). Here are some prosperous missionary stations, where the natives are taught agriculture, mechanical industries and a knowledge of letters. The heroic deeds of Hinza, Kreli and other chiefs famous in the wars are still remembered; but witchcraft, rain-making and other pagan practices seem to have died out. Even more advanced in all social respects are the Fingo, who give their name to the district of Fingoland, and also form the bulk of the population in the Idutywa Reserve. They wear European clothes, support their schools by voluntary contributions, edit newspapers, translate English poetry, set their national songs to correct music, and the majority profess Christianity. The industrial institution of Blythswood, about 20 m. N.W. of Butterworth, is a branch of (q.v.), and is largely supported by the Fingo.

Pondoland (area, 4040 sq. m.; pop. (1904), 202,757 (including 1113 whites), an estimated increase of 36,000 since 1891) is bounded E. by the sea, N. by Natal, W. by Griqualand East, by S. and Tembuland. In Pondoland the primitive organization of the natives has been little altered and the influence of the chiefs is very great. Land is held almost wholly in tribal tenure, though a number of whites possess farms acquired before the annexation of the country. The Pondo have shown some appreciation of the benefits of education.

See G. McCall Theal’s History of South Africa and other works cited under ; also The Native or Transkeian Territories, by C. C. Henkel (Hamburg, 1903), a useful handbook by an ex-official in the Transkeian Territories.

 KAFIRISTAN, a province of Afghanistan. Very little of this country was known with accuracy and nothing at first hand until General Sir W. (then Colonel) Lockhart headed a mission to examine the passes of the Hindu Kush range in 1885–1886. He penetrated into the upper part of the Bashgal valley, but after a few days he found himself compelled to return to Chitral. Previously Major Tanner, R.A., had sought to enter Kafiristan from Jalalabad, but sudden severe illness cut short his enterprise. M‘Nair, the famous explorer of the Indian Survey department, believed that he had actually visited this little-known land during an adventurous journey which he made from India and through Chitral in disguise; but the internal evidence of his reports shows that he mistook the Kalash district of Chitral, with its debased and idolatrous population, for the true Kafiristan of his hopes. In 1889 Mr G. S. Robertson (afterwards Sir George Robertson, K.C.S.I.) was sent on a mission to Kafiristan. He only remained a few days, but a year later he revisited the country, staying amongst the Kafirs for nearly a year. Although his movements were hampered, his presence in the country being regarded with suspicion, he was able to study the people, and, in spite of intertribal jealousy, to meet members of many of the tribes. The facts observed and the information collected by him during his sojourn in eastern Kafiristan, and during short expeditions to the inner valleys, are the most trustworthy foundations of our knowledge of this interesting country.

Kafiristan, which literally means “the land of the infidel,” is the name given to a tract of country enclosed between Chitral and Afghan territory. It was formerly peopled by pagan mountaineers, who maintained a wild independence until 1895, when they were finally subdued by Abdur Rahman, the amir of Kabul, who also compelled them to accept the religion of Islam. The territory thus ill named is included between 34° 30′ and 36° N., and from about 70° to 71° 30′ E. As the western and northern boundaries are imperfectly known, its size cannot be estimated with any certainty. Its greatest extent is from east to west at 35° 10′ N.; its greatest breadth is probably about 71° E. The total area approximates to 5000 sq. m. Along the N. the boundary is the province of Badakshan, on the N.E. the Lutkho valley of Chitral. Chitral and lower Chitral enclose it to the E., and the Kunar valley on the S.E. Afghanistan proper supplies the S. limit. The ranges above the Nijrao and Pansher valleys of Afghanistan wall it in upon the W. The northern frontier is split by the narrow Minjan valley of Badakshan, which seems to rise in the very heart of Kafiristan.

Speaking generally, the country consists of an irregular series of main valleys, for the most part deep, narrow and tortuous, into which a varying number of still deeper, narrower and more twisted valleys, ravines and glens pour their torrent water. The mountain ranges of Metamorphic rock, which separate the main drainage valleys, are all of considerable altitude, rugged and difficult, with the outline of a choppy sea petrified. During the winter months, when the snow lies deep, Kafiristan becomes a number of isolated communities, with few if any means of intercommunication. In the whole land there is probably nothing in the shape of a plain. Much of the silent, gigantic country warms the heart as well as captivates the eye with its grandeur and varied beauty; much of it is the bare skeleton of the world wasted by countless centuries of storms and frost, and profoundly melancholy in its sempiternal ruin. Every variety of mountain scenery can be found: silent peaks and hard, naked ridges, snowfields and glaciers; mighty pine forests, wooded slopes and grazing grounds; or wild vine and pomegranate thickets bordering sparkling streams. At low elevations the hill-sides are covered with the wild olive and evergreen oaks. Many kinds of fruit trees—walnuts, mulberries, apricots and apples—grow near the villages or by the wayside, as well as splendid horse-chestnuts and other shade trees. Higher in elevation, and from 4000 to 8000 ft., are the dense pine and cedar forests. Above this altitude the slopes become dreary, the juniper, cedar and wild rhubarb gradually giving place to scanty willow patches, tamarisk and stunted birches. Over 13,000 ft. there are merely mosses and rough grass. Familiar wildflowers blossom at different heights. The rivers teem with fish. Immense numbers of red-legged partridges live in the lower valleys, as well as pigeons and doves. Gorgeously plumaged pheasants are plentiful. Of wild animals the chief are the markhor (a goat) and the oorial (a sheep). In the winter the former are recklessly slaughtered by hunters, being either brought to bay by trained hounds, or trapped in pits, or caught floundering in the snow-drifts; but in the summer immense herds move on the higher slopes. The ibex is very rare. Bears and leopards are fairly common, as well as the smaller hill creatures.

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Rh A cell and keeper), those dark eyes of hers— Oh! such dark eyes! and not her eyes alone, But all from these to where she touch'd on earth, For such a craziness as Julian's look'd No less than one divine apology.

So sweetly and so modestly she came To greet us, her young hero in her arms! 'Kiss him,' she said. 'You gave me life again. He, but for you, had never seen it once. His other father you! Kiss him, and then Forgive him, if his name Julian too.'

Talk of lost hopes and broken heart! his own Sent such a flame into his face, I know Some sudden vivid pleasure hit him there.

But he was all the more resolved to go,


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82 and bleeding from the broken twigs.

"Then, sobbing and raving in my anguish of mind, I went down to the great building of stone. The big hall was dark, silent, and deserted. I slipped on the uneven floor and fell over one of the malachite tables, almost breaking my shin. I lit a match and went on past the dusty curtains of which I have told you.

"There I found a second great hall covered with cushions, upon which perhaps a score or so of the little people were sleeping. I have no doubt they found my second appearance strange enough, coming suddenly out of the quiet darkness with inarticulate noises and the splutter and flare of a match. For they had forgotten about matches. 'Where is my Time Machine?' I began, bawling like an angry child, laying hands upon them and shaking them up together. It must have been very queer to them. Some laughed, most of them looked


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 that the more of these bonds he holds the more he must support the fiscal activities of the State, for depreciation of the value of these bonds could put him out of business. Prudence compels him to disregard such considerations; he cooperates with the State's financing schemes, even if he suspects that in doing so he will gradually be downgraded to a secretarial position. In his need for showing a profit this year he puts aside whatever scruples he may have about buying the State's bonds. The future must take care of itself.

The corporation president has become accustomed to a standard of living calling for a certain income. He likes it and so does his wife. It is true that he has earned three times that amount and that the State has confiscated two thirds of his earnings. He resents the confiscation, wishes he could retain more and thus improve his standard, but finds it convenient to go along with the State for good reason. Perhaps his corporation is wholly or partly in the employ of the State; in that case, his income is actually derived from the taxes he is forced to pay. It is true that his employees in the aggregate pay more than he does and, though he has not figured it out, the probability is that he senses a profit in this allocation of taxes. Perhaps, if they were not taxed, his employees would buy the corporation's products as liberally as does the tax collector, but selling to a multitude of buyers would entail more sales and credit problems, and for the time being (which is all he is interested in) he finds it easier to do business with the One Big Buyer. He hires a lobbyist to do his selling.

Continuing with the corporation president, if the sales of his product drop to a point where his accustomed profits are threatened—say because taxes have deprived his prospective customers of purchasing power—he is inclined to look with 157

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Rh sort. All my thoughts well up in me; I know not whether they pertain to the old bewilderings or not; but as they are, they are, and I cannot alter them, for I had nothing to do with putting them in my mind, and I never affect any thoughts, and I never adulterate any thoughts; but when I speak, think forth from the tongue, speech being sometimes before the thought; so, often, my own tongue teaches me new things.

'Now as yet I never had questioned the woman, or her husband, or the young girls, their children, why I had been brought to the house, or how long I was to stay in the house. There I was; just as I found myself in the world; there I was; for what cause I had been brought into the world, would have been no stranger question to me, than for what cause I had been brought to the house. I knew nothing of myself, or anything pertaining to myself; I felt my pulse, my thought; but other things I was ignorant of, except the general feeling of my humanness among the inhumanities. But as I grew older, I expanded in my mind. I began to learn things out of me; to see still stranger, and minuter differences. I called the woman mother, and so did the other girls; yet the woman often kissed them, but seldom me. She always helped them first at table. The farmer scarcely ever spoke to me. Now months, years rolled on, and the young girls began to stare at me. Then the bewilderingness of the old starings of the solitary old man and old woman, by the cracked hearth-stone of the desolate old house, in the desolate, round, open space; the bewilderingness of those old starings now returned to me; and the green starings, and the serpent hissings of the uncompanionable cat, recurred to me, and the feeling of the infinite forlornness of my life rolled over me. But the woman was very kind to me; she taught the girls not to be cruel to me; she would call me to her, and speak

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Rh sorely frightened. When I saw them standing round me, it came into my head that I was doing as foolish a thing as it was possible for me to do under the circumstances, in trying to revive the sensation of fear. For reasoning from the daylight behavior I thought that fear must be forgotten.

"Abruptly I dashed down the match, and knocking one of the people over in my course, went blundering across the big dining hall again out under the moonlight. I heard cries of terror and their little feet running and stumbling this way and that. I do not remember all I did as the moon crept up the sky. I suppose it was the unexpected nature of my loss that maddened me. I felt hopelessly cut off from my own kind, a strange animal in an unknown world. I must have raved to and fro, screaming and crying upon God and Fate. I have a memory of horrible fatigue, as the long night of


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 favor on the State's inflationary activities. The distribution of more money, even though slightly counterfeit, will temporarily enrich the populace and enable them to make his sales chart good to look at. That the infusion of new money into the market place will have the effect of depreciating the value of his eroding plant, possibly to the extent of putting his business in an insolvent condition, no matter how much he may put aside for replacement, is a consideration, to be sure; but that is something for the next president and the stockholders of the future to worry about. This year he must pay dividends.

It would be a stupid farmer indeed who did not realize that being paid for not producing is an anomaly; it would be an insensitive one who did not resent the regulations that accompany the largess. Yet the immediate need for a tractor or television set obliterates such considerations, including the probability that his son will never be an independent farmer. The subsidized renter may see some connection between his privilege and the deductions from his pay envelope; even so, it is nice to know that his quarters cost him less than does the comparable habitation of his nonsubsidized neighbor. The old lady living on "social security" remittances, the veteran whose doctor bill is taken care of by the State, and the malingerer receiving unemployment gratuities are not in the least concerned with the future. Even the philosopher who sees dire forebodings in the trend makes peace with it, if necessity demands, and in the comfort of an unearned grant finds solace for his misgivings. We are condemned to live in the present.

158

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174 cheerfully to me, and I thanked—not God, for I had been taught no God—I thanked the bright human summer, and the joyful human sun in the sky; I thanked the human summer and the sun, that they had given me the woman; and I would sometimes steal away into the beautiful grass, and worship the kind summer and the sun; and often say over to myself the soft words, summer and the sun.

'Still, weeks and years ran on, and my hair began to veil me with its fulness and its length; and now often I heard the word beautiful, spoken of my hair, and beautiful, spoken of myself. They would not say the word openly to me, but I would by chance overhear them whispering it. The word joyed me with the human feeling of it. They were wrong not to say it openly to me; my joy would have been so much the more assured for the openness of their saying beautiful, to me; and I know it would have filled me with all conceivable kindness toward every one. Now I had heard the word beautiful, whispered, now and then, for some months, when a new being came to the house; they called him gentleman. His face was wonderful to me. Something strangely like it, and yet again unlike it, I had seen before, but where, I could not tell. But one day, looking into the smooth water behind the house, there I saw the likeness—something strangely like, and yet unlike, the likeness of his face. This filled me with puzzlings. The new being, the gentleman, he was very gracious to me; he seemed astonished, confounded at me; he looked at me, then at a very little, round picture—so it seemed—which he took from his pocket, and yet concealed from me. Then he kissed me, and looked with tenderness and grief upon me; and I felt a tear fall on me from him. Then he whispered a word into my ear. "Father," was the word he whispered; the same word by which the young girls

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text: The New International Encyclopædia/Bamberger, Friedrich


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Rh dance, eat and make merry under the auspices of their parents and elders, who seem to take delight in the merriment. Traces are also to be found of a feast on the old mounds in the evening. On the whole there seems to have been a connection between the feast-making of St. John’s Eve and an ancient festival in honour of the dead.

Lektor at the Gymnasium of Aalesund, Norway.

 of Mr. F. C. Bartlett’s “Experiments on the Reproduction of Folk-stories,” may I tell, in an abbreviated form, a story also told to me by my friend Samson. I will presently explain its relevancy to Mr. Bartlett’s experiments. (The story as I now tell it has acquired a quasi-moral shape, and I head it with the moral title “Waste not, want not.”)

Once upon a time, a blind man and a hunchback were great friends, and used to to out begging together. When they had exhausted the charity of their native village, they set out together into a far country. As they were plodding along, the blind man, setting foot on something that felt like a snake, cried alound in fright. But the hunchback said, “That is only a frayed old elephant-tether. Come along, you fool!” The blind man, however, said “Waste not, want not. Put the rope in my wallet.” So said, so done.

Presently, when the friends were fording a river, the blind man trod on something hard and round in the water, and begged the hunchback to pick it up. The hunchback dived into the current and produced a small tortoise, which he was for throwing away. “Not so,” said the blind man; “waste not, want not. Put that too in my wallet.” So said, so done.

A little further on, the travellers came to where some cowherd lads were amusing themselves in the shade of a peepul tree by dancing to the sound of a drum. “Ah,” said the hunchback, “If only we had a drum wherewith to amuse ourselves

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84 despair wore away, of looking in this impossible place and that, of groping among moonlit ruins and touching strange creatures in the black shadows; at last, of lying on the ground near the sphinx and weeping with absolute wretchedness, even anger at the folly of leaving the machine having leaked away with my strength. I had nothing left but misery.

"Then I slept, and when I woke again it was full day, and a couple of sparrows were hopping around me upon the turf within reach of my arm.

"I sat up in the freshness of the morning trying to remember how I had got there, and why I had such a profound sense of desertion and despair. Then things came clear in my mind. With the plain, reasonable daylight I could look my circumstances fairly in the face. I saw the wild folly of my frenzy overnight, and I could reason with myself.


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178 and was struggling to make a farm and a home between jobs. He cooked bacon for breakfast, washed up the dishes and tidied the kitchen, gave the boys some bread and bacon fat, of which they were very fond, and told the eldest to take a cup of tea and some bread and milk to his mother and the baby when they woke.

The boy milked the three cows, set the milk, and heard his mother calling—

"Nils! Nils!"

"Yes, mother."

"Why didn't you answer me when I called you? I've been calling here for the last three hours. Is your father gone out?"

"Yes, mother."

"Thank God! It's a relief to be rid of his everlasting growling. Bring me a cup of tea and the Australian Journal, and take this child out and dress her; she should have been up hours ago."

And so the New Year began.


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Rh called the farmer. Then I knew it was the word of kindness and of kisses. I kissed the gentleman.

'When he left the house I wept for him to come again. And he did come again. All called him my father now. He came to see me once every month or two; till at last he came not at all; and when I wept and asked for him, they said the word Dead to me. Then the bewilderings of the comings and the goings of the coffins at the large and populous house; these bewilderings came over me. What was it to be dead? What is it to be living? Wherein is the difference between the words Death and Life? Had I been ever dead? Was I living? Let me be still again. Do not speak to me.'

And the stepping on the floor above; again it did resume.

'Months ran on; and now I somehow learned that my father had every now and then sent money to the woman to keep me with her in the house; and that no more money had come to her after he was dead; the last penny of the former money was now gone. Now the farmer's wife looked troubledly and painfully at me; and the farmer looked unpleasantly and impatiently at me. I felt that something was miserably wrong; I said to myself, I am one too many; I must go away from the pleasant house. Then the bewilderings of all the loneliness and forlornness of all my forlorn and lonely life; all these bewilderings and the whelmings of the bewilderings rolled over me; and I sat down without the house, but could not weep.

'But I was strong, and I was a grown girl now. I said to the woman—Keep me hard at work; let me work all the time, but let me stay with thee. But the other girls were sufficient to do the work; me they wanted not. The farmer looked out of his eyes at me, and the outlookings of his eyes said plainly to me—Thee we do not want; go from us; thou art one too many; and thou

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text: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Kaffraria

title: 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica/Kaffraria


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 It is this biological necessity that robs the long-term point of view of reality and facilitates the operations of the State. The need of living now bends the will to live to the conditions under which living is possible; just as a man patterns his life in the wilderness to primitive conditions, so does he make adjustment to the rules, regulations, controls, confiscations, and interventions imposed on him by political power. If these restraints on his aspirations are regularized, so that his "way of life" achieves a semblance of stability, he soon loses consciousness of restraint; what he may have resented at the beginning is not only accepted but also defended. For such is the composition of man that his adjustment to environment is not confined to mere physical, insensate accommodation; it must include a conscious acceptance, a justification, a moral support. He cannot live comfortably without giving his blessing to the conditions under which he lives. His competence with words aids the process of accommodation; with words he develops an ideology that satisfies his mind as to the correctness and even righteousness of his "way of life." This is the secret ally of the State—the inclination of the human to adore the conditions which have been imposed on him and under which he has found a comfortable adjustment. Its propaganda machinery, by constant reiteration, turns the ideological phrases into a liturgy; its bureaucracy, which regularizes the cherished "way of life," acquires the glory of a priesthood; its buildings, even its prisons, are covered with a distinctive aura; its formalism becomes ritualistic, its utterances oracular. Only the theoretician, the economist and the historian, concerns himself with the long-term consequences of the State's interventions. In the meantime one must live, and in the meantime "long live the king." 159

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Rh "’Suppose the worst,' said I, 'suppose the machine altogether lost—perhaps destroyed. It behooves me to be calm and patient, to learn the way of the people, to get a clear idea of the method of my loss and the means of getting materials and tools; so that in the end, perhaps, I may make another. That would be my only hope, a poor hope, perhaps, but better than despair. And, after all, it was a beautiful and curious world.

"'But probably the machine had only been taken away. Still, I must be calm and patient, find its hiding place, and recover it by force or cunning.' And with that I scrambled to my feet and looked about me, wondering where I could bathe. I felt weary, stiff, and travel-soiled. The freshness of the morning made me desire an equal freshness. I had exhausted my emotion. Indeed, as I went about my business, I found myself wondering at my intense excitement overnight.


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176 art more than one too many. Then I said to the woman—Hire me out to some one; let me work for some one.—But I spread too wide my little story. I must make an end.

'The woman listened to me, and through her means I went to live at another house, and earned wages there. My work was milking the cows, and making butter, and spinning wool, and weaving carpets of thin strips of cloth. One day there came to this house a peddler. In his wagon he had a guitar, an old guitar, yet a very pretty one, but with broken strings. He had got it slyly in part exchange from the servants of a grand house some distance off. Spite of the broken strings, the thing looked very graceful and beautiful to me, and I knew there was melodiousness lurking in the thing, though I had never seen a guitar before, nor heard of one; but there was a strange humming in my heart that seemed to prophesy of the hummings of the guitar. Intuitively, I knew that the strings were not as they should be. I said to the man—I will buy of thee the thing thou callest a guitar. But thou must put new strings to it. So he went to search for them; and brought the strings, and restringing the guitar, tuned it for me. So with part of my earnings I bought the guitar. Straightway I took it to my little chamber in the gable, and softly laid it on my bed. Then I murmured; sung and murmured to it; very lowly, very softly; I could hardly hear myself. And I changed the modulations of my singings and my murmurings; and still sung, and murmured, lowly, softly,—more and more; and presently I heard a sudden sound; sweet and low beyond all telling was the sweet and sudden sound. I clapped my hands; the guitar was speaking to me; the dear guitar was singing to me; murmuring and singing to me, the guitar. Then I sung and murmured to it with a still different modulation; and once more it answered

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86 "That morning I made a careful examination of the ground about the little lawn. I wasted some time in futile questionings conveyed as well as I was able to such of the little people as came by. They all failed to understand my gestures—some were simply stolid; some thought it was a jest, and laughed at me. I had the hardest task in the world to keep my hands off their pretty, laughing faces. It was a foolish impulse, but the devil begotten of fear and blind anger was ill curbed, and still eager to take advantage of my perplexity. The turf gave better counsel. I found a groove ripped in it, about midway between the pedestal of the sphinx and the marks of my feet where, on arrival, I had struggled with the overturned machine. There were other signs of the removal of a heavy body about, of queer, narrow footprints like those I could imagine made by a sloth. This directed my closer attention to the pedestal. It


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Rh me from a different string; and once more it murmured to me, and it answered to me with a different string. The guitar was human; the guitar taught me the secret of the guitar; the guitar learned me to play on the guitar. No music-master have I ever had but the guitar. I made a loving friend of it; a heart friend of it. It sings to me as I to it. Love is not all on one side with my guitar. All the wonders that are unimaginable and unspeakable, I all these wonders are translated in the mysterious melodiousness of the guitar. It knows all my past history. Sometimes it plays to me the mystic visions of the confused large house I never name. Sometimes it brings to me the bird-twitterings in the air; and sometimes it strikes up in me rapturous pulsations of legendary delights eternally unexperienced and unknown to me. Bring me the guitar.'

VI

Entranced, lost, as one wandering bedazzled and amazed among innumerable dancing lights, Pierre had motionlessly listened to this abundant-haired, and large-eyed girl of mystery.

'Bring me the guitar!'

Starting from his enchantment, Pierre gazed round the room and saw the instrument leaning against a corner. Silently he brought it to the girl, and silently sat down again.

'Now listen to the guitar; and the guitar shall sing to thee the sequel of my story; for not in words can it be spoken. So listen to the guitar.'

Instantly the room was populous with sounds of melodiousness, and mournfulness, and wonderfulness; the room swarmed with the unintelligible but delicious sounds. The sounds seemed waltzing in the room; the sounds hung

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Rh was, as I think I have said, of bronze. It was not a mere block, but highly decorated with deep-framed panels on either side. I went and rapped at these. The pedestal was hollow. Examining the panels with care, I found them discontinuous with the frames. There were no handles nor keyholes, but possibly the panels, if they were doors, as I supposed, opened from within. One thing was clear enough to my mind. It took no very great mental effort to infer that my Time Machine was inside that pedestal. But how it got there was a different problem.

"I saw the heads of two orange-clad people coming through the bushes and under some blossom-covered apple trees toward me. I turned, smiling, to them, and beckoned them to me. They came, and then, pointing to the bronze pedestal, I tried to intimate my wish to open it. But at my first gesture toward this, they behaved very oddly. I don't know how


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 In these circumstances, the long-termer, the prophet who harps on first principles and the ultimate consequences of violation, is a dealer in unreality and an unwanted disturber of the adjustment. His vagaries may be remembered and his prophecy recalled when at long last his forebodings have come to pass. That is, when the restraints multiply to the point where adjustment leaves little area for living, when a miserable existence is all that one can get out of one's efforts. It is then that the primordial instinct for freedom looms larger than the instinct for life itself and there is nothing left to do but to throw off the shackles of the State. But that, for the present, is in the unrealistic realm of the long-term.

The instinct for freedom, the yearning for self-expression without let or hindrance, is the stuff of which utopia is made. Were it not for that element in unscrutable man's makeup he would never be involved in political matters and his history would be like unto a history of the jungle. Man, the producer, must have freedom, while man, the predator, puts limitations on freedom, and this inner dichotomy is the plot of his life story. His search for the "good society" is his search for a denouement. Whether or not it is in the nature of things that the struggle should go on indefinitely, he cannot help trying his hand at fashioning a happy ending. And what follows herewith is simply another attempt at the same thing.

The principal ingredient in any formula for the "good society" must be a preventive. How can Society protect itself against the tendency of political power to encroach upon and liquidate social power? This has been the continuing problem of social integrations, and the only solution human ingenuity has hit upon is surveillance and supervision. Society must always keep its eyes on and, when need be, lay its hands on 160

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153 with by the fire in the evening!” “Nothing easier,” replied the blind man. “Crawl on all fours through the jungle, and when you are near the boys, roar like a tiger. They will be frightened and run away, leaving the drum behind.” So said, so done.

But now night began to fall, and it became necessary to seek a lodging. “Is there no village in sight?” asked the blind man. “There is,” said the other. “But I don’t like its looks. It seems to me an abode of robbers or creatures still more ominous.” “What matter?” reply the stout-hearted blind man. “We will enter one of the granaries on the outskirts of the village, bar the doors, and sleep quietly.” So said, so done.

But, in truth, the village was the home of a gang of robbers, and the granary was where they kept their ill-gotten gain, under the charge of a terrible man-eating demon. This creature presently came prowling round the hut, and smelling the travellers, chanted through its nose the local equivalent of “Fee faw fum.” “Come out,” it cried, “and be eaten!” But the intrepid blind man, not in the least disturbed, said, “Much too cold, my friend, at this time of night! But we can have a trial of strength in another way. Judging by your voice, you must be a great hairy sort of beast. Pluck some of the fluff off your chest and put it through the chink in the door.” The demon growled but obeyed. “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the blind man. “Call that hair! Look at mine!” So saying he thrust out the frayed elephant-rope.

“Now,” said the blind man, “let us try another test. Hairy you are and verminous too, I guess. Let us see what sort of fleas you carry about you. Shove one through the chink.” The demon muttered and cursed, but obeyed. “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the blind man. “Call that a flea! Look at mine!” And, not without squeezing, he pushed his tortoise out through the chink.

“Well,” said the blind man, “I don’t mind putting you to one more trial. A big fellow like you has no doubt a big resonant chest on him. Beat your chest and let us see how much noise you can make.” The poor demon, now thoroughly

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88 to convey their expression to you. Suppose you were to use a grossly improper gesture to a delicate-minded woman—it is how she would look. They went off as if they had received the last possible insult.

"However, I wanted access to the Time Machine; so I tried a sweet-looking little chap in white next, with exactly the same result. Somehow, his manner made me ashamed of myself. But, as I say, I wanted the Time Machine. I tried one more. As he turned off like the others, my temper got the better of me. In three strides I was after him, had him by the loose part of his robe round the neck, and began dragging him toward the sphinx. Then I saw the horror and repugnance of his face, and all of a sudden I let him go.

"But I was not beaten yet. I banged with my fist at the bronze panels. I thought I heard something stir inside—to be explicit, I thought I heard a sound like a chuckle—but


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178 pendulous like glittering icicles from the corners of the room; and fell upon him with a ringing silveryness; and were drawn up again to the ceiling, and hung pendulous again, and dropped down upon him again with the ringing silveryness. Fire-flies seemed buzzing in the sounds; summer-lightnings seemed vividly yet softly audible in the sounds.

And still the wild girl played on the guitar; and her long dark shower of curls fell over it, and veiled it; and still, out from the veil came the swarming sweetness, and the utter unintelligibleness, but the infinite significances of the sounds of the guitar.

'Girl of all-bewildering mystery!' cried Pierre—'speak to me;—sister, if thou indeed canst be a thing that's mortal—speak to me, if thou be Isabel!'

Among the waltzings, and the droppings, and the swarmings of the sounds, Pierre now heard the tones above deftly stealing and winding among the myriad serpentinings of the other melody;—deftly stealing and winding as respected the instrumental sounds, but in themselves wonderfully and abandonedly free and bold—bounding and rebounding as from multitudinous reciprocal walls; while with every syllable the hair-shrouded form of Isabel swayed to and fro with a like abandonment, and suddenness, and wantonness:—then it seemed not like any song; seemed not issuing from any mouth; but it came forth from beneath the same veil concealing the guitar.

Now a strange wild heat burned upon his brow; he put his hand to it. Instantly the music changed; and drooped and changed; and changed and changed; and

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 political power. In practice, surveillance and supervision take the form of constitutionalism, or written limitations on political power, with popular suffrage the enforcement agency. Experience shows, however, that constitutions and suffrage only delay, do not prevent, the fermentation of political power; men can and do vote themselves into its clutches under the promise of an unearned advantage, and constitutions are not written in the indelible ink of natural law. The fallibility of constitutionalism lies in the fact that as political power extends its area of operations it is able to play one group against another, catering to their diverse cupidities, and under cover of such intrasocial conflicts (class struggles) its inherent proclivity for expansion breaks through the constitutional bounds. There is the further fact that production, not surveillance and supervision of political power, is the first business of Society, and that this ancillary occupation is likely to be overlooked; particularly so when those who exercise power are beyond the personal purview of those upon whom it is exercised. As a practical matter, therefore, surveillance and supervision are an effective restraint only when the political unit is small, so small that the political personnel cannot escape social pressures. That is, the town-hall type of Government.

We are speaking of the political, not the economic, unit. The size of the economic unit is always determined by the radius of exchanges, and is always regulated by the human sense of value. Buyer and seller, regardless of the distance between them, either in space or culture, become members of the market place by the act of exchange. The market place is self-regulatory, operating under laws which are self-enforcing and carry their own sanctions; it is a mechanism which functions without the use of political power and whose 161

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Rh lingeringly retreated as it changed; and at last was wholly gone.

Pierre was the first to break the silence.

'Isabel, thou hast filled me with such wonderings; I am so distraught with thee, that the particular things I had to tell to thee, when I hither came; these things I cannot now recall, to speak them to thee:—I feel that something is still unsaid by thee, which at some other time thou wilt reveal. But now I can stay no longer with thee. Know me eternally as thy loving, revering, and most marvelling brother, who will never desert thee, Isabel. Now let me kiss thee and depart, till to-morrow night; when I shall open to thee all my mind, and all my plans concerning me and thee. Let me kiss thee, and adieu!'

As full of unquestioning and unfaltering faith in him, the girl sat motionless and heard him out. Then silently rose, and turned her boundlessly confiding brow to him. He kissed it thrice, and without another syllable left the place.

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