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The American Cyclopædia (1879)/Massachusetts

MASSACHUSETTS, one of the thirteen original states of the American Union, and one of the New England states, between lat. 41° 15' and 42° 53' N., and lon. 69° 56' and 73° 32' W.; extreme length N. E. and S. W., 160 m.; breadth from 47 to about 90 m.; estimated area, 7,800 sq. m. It is bounded N. by Vermont and New Hampshire, E. by the Atlantic ocean, S. by the Atlantic, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, and W. by New York. It is divided into 14 counties, viz.: Barnstable, Berkshire, Bristol, Dukes, Essex, Franklin, Hampden, Hampshire, Middlesex, Nantucket, Norfolk, Plymouth, Suffolk, and Worcester. Boston, the commercial centre and the largest city of New England, is the capital; in 1870 it contained 250,526 inhabitants, but by the annexation of Charlestown, Brighton, and West Roxbury, in 1873, its population was, according to assessors' returns, increased to about 360,000 in 1874. The other cities are Cambridge, which in 1870 had 39,634 inhabitants; Chelsea, 18,547;

Fall River, 26,766; Fitchburg, 11,260; Gloucester, 15,389; Haverhill, 13,092; Holyoke, 10,733; Lawrence, 28,921; Lowell, 40,928; Lynn, 28,233; New Bedford, 21,320; Newburyport, 12,595; Newton, 12,825; Salem, 24,117; Somerville, 14,685; Springfield, 26,703; Taunton, 18,629; and Worcester, 41,105. The population and rank of the state in the Union, according to the national census, have been:

State Seal of Massachusetts.

Included in the total population of 1860 were 32 Indians, and in that of 1870 87 Chinese, 10 Japanese, and 151 Indians. Of the whole number of inhabitants in 1870, 703,779 were males and 753,572 females; 1,104,032 were native and 353,319 foreign born. Of the natives, 17,313 were born in Connecticut, 55,571 in Maine, 903,297 in Massachusetts, 47,773 in New Hampshire, 24,628 in New York, 14,356 in Rhode Island, and 22,110 in Vermont; 243,784 persons born in Massachusetts were living in other states. Of the foreign born, 65,055 were natives of British America, 13,072 of Germany, 34,099 of England, 216,120 of Ireland, and 9,003 of Scotland. The average density of population was 186.84 persons to a square mile, being greater than that of any other state. There were 305,534 families, with an average of 4.77 persons to each, and 236,473 dwellings, with an average of 6.16 persons to each. The increase of population from 1860 to 1870 was 18.15 per cent. The number of male citizens 21 years old and upward was 312,770. There were 74,935 persons 10 years of age and over unable to read, and 97,742 who could not write, of whom 89,830 were foreign born;

31,746 of the male adult population, or 7.97 per cent., and 53,940, or 12.27 per cent., of the female adults, were illiterate. The number of paupers supported during the year ending June 1, 1870, was 8,036, at a cost of $1,121,604; of the number (5,777) receiving support June 1, 1870, 5,396 were natives and 381 foreigners. There were 1,593 persons convicted of crime during the year; of the number (2,526) in prison June 1, 1870, 1,291 were of native and 1,235 of foreign birth. The state contained 761 blind, 538 deaf and dumb, 2,662 insane, and 778 idiotic. Of the total population 10 years of age and over (1,160,666), there were engaged in all occupations 579,844 persons; in agriculture 72,810, of whom 31,019 were laborers and 39,766 farmers and planters; in professional and personal services 131,291, including 2,040 clergymen, 45,770 domestic servants, 279 journalists, 50,564 laborers not specified, 1,270 lawyers, 2,047 physicians and surgeons, 7,220 teachers not specified, 847 teachers of music, and 506 professional musicians; in trade and transportation, 83,078; in manufactures, mechanical and mining industries, 292,665, of whom 5,774 were blacksmiths, 1,102 bookbinders, 48,255 boot and shoe makers, 23,506 carpenters and joiners, 39,195 cotton null operatives, besides 4,629 mill and factory operatives not specified, 5,311 fishermen and oystermen, 8,273 machinists, 7,887 painters and varnishers, 16,787 tailors and seamstresses, besides 7,649 milliners and dress and mantua makers, and 19,863 woollen mill operatives. The total number of deaths during the year was 25,859, being 1.77 per cent. of the entire population. Chief among the causes of mortality were consumption, from which 5,157 persons died, and pneumonia, 1,696; the number of deaths from all causes to 1 from consumption being 5, and 15.2 to 1 from pneumonia. There were 1,685 deaths from cholera infantum, 1,142 from enteric fever, 911 from scarlet fever, 280 from diphtheria, and 1,114 from diarrhœa, dysentery, and enteritis.—From the west for about 100 m. Massachusetts has the regular form of a parallelogram about 50 m. wide; thence it spreads out N. E. and S. E. on two sides of Massachusetts bay, terminating S. E. in the long peninsula of Cape Cod, which, describing to the north and slightly to the west a segment of a circle, encloses Cape Cod bay. It also includes several islands, of which Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket are the largest. Besides the two mentioned, there are Buzzard's bay on the S. coast, 30 m. long, with an average width of 7 m., and Plymouth bay, a small inlet communicating on the east with Cape Cod bay. The Elizabeth islands are a group of 16 off Cape Cod. (See .) The state has many excellent harbors, the best of which are at Boston and New Bedford. No large and navigable rivers, excepting the Merrimack, find their outlet on the coast. The Housatonic river, which rises in the W. part of the state, and the

flow S. through Connecticut into Long Island sound; the Merrimack, which is navigable for sloops to Haverhill, 18 m. from its mouth, flows through the N. E. corner, and supplies immense water power to Lowell, Lawrence, and other manufacturing centres. The falls in the Connecticut afford valuable water power. The other principal streams are the Nashua, Taunton, Concord, Blackstone, and Charles. It contains several small lakes.—The surface of the state is greatly diversified. The extreme west is mountainous, having two ranges of the Green mountains, the Taghkannic or Taconic and Hoosac ridges, which run nearly parallel to each other and into Connecticut. Saddle mountain in the N. W. corner is 3,600 ft. high, and Mt. Washington in the S. W. corner 2,624 ft. Further E. is the beautiful and fertile valley of the Connecticut. In this section are several elevations, detached members of the White mountain system, the highest peaks of which are Mt. Tom (about 1,300 ft.) on the W., and Mt. Holyoke (1,120 ft.) near Northampton, on the E. bank of the Connecticut river, and Wachusett mountain (2,018 ft.) K of the middle of the state. The east and northeast are hilly and broken, and the southeast generally low and sandy. Massachusetts is eminently a region of metamorphic rocks. Those in the E. part of the state especially are largely overspread with the sands, gravel, and bowlders of the drift formation; and the long point of land making the S. E. extremity of the state (see ) is so covered with these loose materials, that the rocky beds beneath are entirely concealed. Syenite and granite prevail along the coast, and extensive quarries of these rocks are worked at Quincy, Cape Ann, and other points. Around Boston is a formation of coarse conglomerates and argillaceous slates of obscure age on account of the metamorphic action to which they have been subjected. At Braintree, near Quincy, the slates contain trilobites, but generally no fossils have been met with in these rocks. The fossils would seem to refer the slates to the lower Silurian period. These obscure formations are traced in an irregular belt toward Providence, and near the Rhode Island line they are connected with coal-bearing strata, referable, it is supposed, to the true carboniferous epoch. In many localities in Bristol and Plymouth counties these strata contain beds of anthracite, some of which, as at Mansfield, have been worked for many years; but they are of little or no value, the coal always being much crushed, and the beds very irregular in their production. Gneiss and talcose and mica slates in broad belts traverse the state from N. to S. from the E. portion to the waters of the Housatonic in Berkshire. Among these rocks are interspersed a few beds of metamorphic limestone, but no minerals or ores of value. Along the Connecticut river valley, in the triassic or new red sandstone formation, known as the Connecticut valley

area, are found very extensive fossil footprints, which from their resemblance to the feet of birds are first called ornithichnites; but they have since been found by Prof. Edward Hitchcock, who gave the name, to be not only the tracks of birds but of other animals. Some of them indicate that they were made by animals of gigantic size. (See .) Trap rocks are associated with it, and near the contact of the sandstone and trap, or of the sandstone and the gneiss, are found veins of metallic ores, as of lead, copper, and zinc, none of which, however, have repaid the money spent in their exploration. The principal localities of these ores are at Southampton, Leverett, Montague, Whately, and a few other towns. The high lands which traverse the state from N. to S., dividing the waters that flow into the Connecticut from those of the Housatonic, and called the Hoosac mountains, are chiefly of gneiss and mica slate. In Middlefield a belt of talcose slate, continued further N. in the mica slate region, reaches the gneiss; and here are developed in near proximity beds of limestone, steatite, and serpentine. The towns along the Housatonic and on the same range extending to the N. border of the state are in the region of the altered Silurian sandstones and calcareous formations. This is the most important mineral district of the state, numerous beds of iron ore having been worked for many years, and the quartz rocks affording in their disintegrated beds bodies of glass sand of unusual purity. In 1874 deposits specially rich in silver, and containing also lead and gold, were discovered in Essex co., near Newburyport, where mining operations have been begun.—In the valleys, particularly of the Housatonic and Connecticut, the soil is rich and productive, but a large portion of the more elevated lands and the long sandy coast do not repay the husbandman. The climate near the coast is very variable, with prevailing E. winds, especially in spring. The mean annual temperature is about 48°; spring, 43°; summer, 71°; autumn, 51°; winter, 21°. The annual rainfall is about 55 inches. In the interior it is more equable, and in the mountainous districts very severe in winter.—Of the total area of the state, somewhat less than one half is improved. According to the census of 1870, there were 26,500 farms, of which 1,129 contained between 3 and 10 acres each, 2,532 between 10 and 20, 8,381 between 20 and 50, 8,727 between 50 and 100, 5,643 between 100 and 500, and 40 between 500 and 1,000. The number of acres of improved land on farms was 1,736,221; woodland, 706,714; other unimproved, 287,348. The cash value of farms was $116,432,784; of farming implements and machinery, $5,000,879; total amount of wages paid during the year, including value of board, $5,821,032; total estimated value of all farm productions, including betterments and additions to stock, $32,192,378; of

products, $989,854; of produce of market gardens, $1,980,821; of forest products, $1,616,818; of home manufactures, $79,378; of animals slaughtered or sold for slaughter, $4,324,658; of all live stock on farms, $17,049,228. The chief productions were, 17,574 bushels of spring and 17,074 of winter wheat, 239,227 of rye, 1,397,807 of Indian corn, 797,664 of oats, 133,071 of barley, 58,049 of buckwheat, 24,690 of peas and beans, 3,026,363 of potatoes, 597,455 tons of hay, 7,312,885 lbs. of tobacco, 306,659 of wool, 6,559,161 of butter, 2,245,873 of cheese, 61,910 of hops, 399,800 of maple sugar, 25,299 of honey, and 15,284,057 gallons of milk sold. Besides 45,227 horses and 52,263 neat cattle not on farms, there were 41,039 horses, 114,771 milch cows, 24,430 working oxen, 78,851 other cattle, 78,560 sheep, and 49,178 swine.—As a manufacturing state, Massachusetts ranks with the first in the Union. The amount of capital invested in manufactures, and the value of the annual products, are greater in New York and Pennsylvania; but in proportion to the population the industries of Massachusetts are more extensive than those of either of the states named. In 1850 the capital invested in manufactures amounted to $88,940,292, and the annual products to $157,743,994; in 1860 the former had increased to $132,792,327 and the latter to $255,545,922. In 1870 the amount of capital invested was $231,677,862, and the value of annual products $553,912,568; the materials used were valued at $334,413,982, while the wages paid amounted to $118,051,886. There were 13,212 establishments using 2,396 steam engines of 78,502 horse power and 3,157 water wheels of 105,854 horse power, and employing 279,380 hands, of whom 179,032 were males above 16, 86,229 females above 15, and 14,119 youth. The aldermen and selectmen of the various cities and towns are required by law to ascertain and return decennially to the state secretary the industrial statistics of the commonwealth. The value of the products of all industries as thus returned amounted to $124,000,000 in 1845, $295,000,000 in 1855, and $577,000,000 in 1865; showing an increase during the last named decade in the value of industrial products of 72 per cent., while the population during the same period increased only 3 per cent. The leading products returned for the year ending May 1, 1865, were:

In the manufacture of boots and shoes, cordage and twine, cotton goods, cutlery, chairs, lasts, straw goods, and woollen goods, as well as textiles in general, and bleaching and dyeing, Massachusetts ranks above all other states. The extent of these industries in this state, as compared with the United States, in 1870, is indicated in the following statement:

While Massachusetts holds the first rank in respect to the industries named, the state is specially noted for the extent of its manufactures of boots and shoes and cotton and woollen goods. Here are the great centres of these industries in the United States. Of the boot and shoe establishments, 1,123 were each producing annually more than $5,000. In these were employed 7,042 sewing and 636 pegging machines and 51,167 hands. The products embraced 10,129,910 pairs of boots and 29,164,594 pairs of shoes. Nearly one third of the capital invested in the manufacture of cotton goods in the United States was employed in Massachusetts. The machines in use embraced 55,343 looms and 1,255,552 frame and 1,363,989 mule spindles. The cotton consumed amounted to 130,654,040 lbs.; the products included 22,123,147 yards of sheetings, shirtings, and twilled goods, 12,434,858 of lawns and fine muslins, 229,613,105 of print cloths, 2,108,952 lbs. of yarn not woven, 2,595,358 dozens of spool thread, 33,712,996 yards of warps, 3,773,664 lbs. of bats, wicking, and wadding, 6,864,954 yards of flannel, 13,690,000 of ginghams and checks, and 407,527 lbs. of thread. The value of all products increased from $21,394,401 in 1850 to $38,004,255 in 1860, and $59,493,153 in 1870. In the woollen mills were 1,367 cards, with a daily capacity for 159,484 lbs. of carded wool, 4,469 broad and 3,374 narrow looms, and 470,785 spindles; 37,146,190 lbs. of domestic wool were consumed, besides 2,813,449 of cotton and 5,994,110 of shoddy. The products embraced 403,785 pairs of blankets, 21,819,879 yards of cloths, cassimeres, and doeskins, 285,000 of

felted cloth, 22,321,684 of flannels, 7,701,880 of satinets, 585,435 shawls, 808,920 yards of tweeds and twills, and 1,235,161 lbs. of yarn.

The leading industries of the state, as reported by the census of 1870, are shown in the following table:

Not included in the above statement for 1870 are the statistics of mining and quarrying, in which the capital invested amounted to $944,250, and the annual products to $1,493,522;

and those of fisheries, with $4,287,871 capital and $6,215,325 annual products. The stone quarried, including large quantities of Quincy granite, was valued at $1,294,148.—For

purposes, the state is divided into 11 customs districts, of which the ports of entry are given in the following statements. The imports and exports for the year ending June 30, 1874, were as follows:

The movement of foreign shipping at the various ports, and the numher of vessels registered, enrolled, and licensed, were as follows:

Those that entered and cleared as well as those registered were mostly sailing vessels. The number of vessels engaged in the coastwise trade was as follows:

Besides the above, 105 vessels of 3,677 tons engaged in the general fisheries entered at Newburyport, and 116 of 3,922 tons cleared. For more than a century the fisheries of Massachusetts have constituted one of its leading industries. (See .) The most important centres of this industry are Gloucester, which far surpasses any other port of the country in the magnitude of its cod and mackerel fisheries, and New Bedford, which is the leading market in the United States for the

of the whale. The entire products of the American whale fisheries for the year ending June 30, 1874, amounted to $2,291,896, including sperm oil valued at $1,250,987, other whale oil $775,919, and whalebone $264,990. Nearly all of these were from Massachusetts, where were employed in the whale fisheries about 170 vessels belonging to Barnstable, Edgartown, New Bedford, and Salem and Beverly. Of the 2,099 vessels employed in the cod and mackerel fisheries in the United States, 1,026 of 49,578 tons belonged to Massachusetts. According to the census of 1870, more than half of the products of fisheries in the United States, exclusive of the whale fisheries, were the result of Massachusetts industry. The capital invested in this business was $4,287,871, and the number of persons employed was 8,993. Among the products, which were valued at $6,215,325, were 451,125 quintals of cod, 1,651 tons of halibut, 188,567 barrels of mackerel, $486,596 worth of miscellaneous fish, and 305,049 gallons of oil, valued at $302,790. Ship building is carried on in most of the customs districts; in 1874 there were 77 vessels built, of 31,499 tons, including 5 steamers, of 689 tons. About two thirds of these were built in Boston, Charlestown, and Newburyport.—The first railroad in Massachusetts was opened for use in 1835, since which time an average of about 50 m. has been annually constructed. On Sept. 30, 1874, the entire mileage belonging to Massachusetts companies was 2,418, exclusive of 657 m. of sidings and 626 m. of double track; the length of main track and branches within the commonwealth was 1,782 m., and of double track and sidings 917 m. About 29 per cent, of the main lines are laid with steel rails. Nominally there are 60 corporations, but the railroads of the state are controlled by 31 distinct boards of direction. The average cost of roads has been $56,883 62 a mile, in addition to the cost of equipment, $7,701 a mile. The entire amount directly invested in the railroads reporting to the state is $165,624,136, including $117,066,798 of stock and $48,557,338 of debt. The total earnings returned for the year amounted to $34,632,483, of which about 49 per cent. were from passengers and 46 per cent. from freight. The number of passengers carried was 42,480,494. The whole number of accidents was 279, of which 127 resulted in death; nearly one third were caused by walking on the tracks. The average of casualties for a series of years from causes not attributable to the carelessness of the person injured has been 1 to each 1,400,000 passengers carried; but in 1874 it was only 1 to each 5,300,000. The railroads are under the general supervision of a board of three commissioners, who are appointed by the governor, and are required to report annually upon the condition of the roads and corporations, the causes of accidents, &c. The lines completed at the beginning of 1875 are represented in the following table, omitting those less than 5 m. long:

The transportation facilities will be greatly improved by the completion in 1875 of the tunnel through the Hoosac mountain in the N. W. part of the state. This tunnel, which will have cost the state not less than $14,000,000, including interest, is, next to the Mt. Cenis tunnel, the longest in the world, being about 4¾ m. in length. (See .) The 30 street railway corporations in the state have 210 m.

of track, including branches and sidings; their capital stock is $5,538,125, exclusive of debt amounting to $2,573,741; the average cost per mile of road and equipment was $32,701; and the number of passengers carried in 1874 was 50,058,979.—The number of national banks in operation Nov. 1, 1874, was 220; paid-in capital, $93,039,350; circulation outstanding, $59,051,019; circulation per head, $40 52;

ratio of circulation to wealth, 2.0 per cent.; to capital, 63.05 per cent. Fifty-one of these banks, with a capital of $50,400,000, and an outstanding circulation of $25,294,272, were in Boston. There were 179 savings banks, with 702,099 depositors, and deposits amounting to $217,452,120. The average rate of dividends was 6$1/6$ per cent. There were also 4 loan and trust companies, with $1,700,000 capital, and deposits aggregating $6,924,270. On Jan. 1, 1874, there were 127 fire and marine insurance companies transacting business in the state, with a paid-up capital of $52,197,870 and net assets aggregating $86,981,245. The premiums received on risks in 1873 aggregated $84,017,278, while the paid losses amounted to $61,524,120, showing a ratio of paid losses to premium receipts of 73.23.—The executive department of the government consists of a governor, whose annual salary is $5,000; a lieutenant governor, who receives $1,500 for attendance during the regular session of the legislature and $10 a day for extra sessions; a secretary of the commonwealth, $3,500; treasurer and receiver general, $5,000; auditor, $3,500; attorney general, $5,000; and an executive council of eight, each of whom receives $750 for the regular annual session of their board, $5 a day for any subsequent session, and 20 cents a mile for travel. These officers are elected annually by the people. The legislative department consists of 40 senators and 240 representatives elected annually. Their pay is $750 for the regular annual session, and 20 cents a mile for travel. The president of the senate and the speaker of the house of representatives receive each $1,500 for the session. The judiciary comprises a supreme judicial court, consisting of a chief justice, salary $6,500, and six justices, who receive $6,000 per annum each. This has exclusive cognizance of all capital crimes, exclusive chancery jurisdiction so far as chancery powers are given by statute, and concurrent original jurisdiction of all civil cases where the amount in dispute exceeds $4,000 in Suffolk, and $1,000 in other counties. The superior court has criminal jurisdiction in all except capital cases, exclusive original jurisdiction of complaints for the flowing of land, and original jurisdiction of all civil actions except those confided to the supreme and police courts. Actions cannot be commenced in this court unless the debt or damages exceed $20. The court has a chief justice, salary $5,300, and nine justices, $5,000 each. The legislature in 1858 united the courts of probate and the court of insolvency. For probate and insolvency purposes, frequent courts are held at different places by the judges in the several counties. A judge and a register of probate and insolvency are elected by the voters of each county. In the large cities there are municipal courts for civil and police purposes. All the judges are appointed by the governor for an unlimited time. The election for state officers and members of the

is held on the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, and the legislature meets on the first Wednesday of January. Voters are required to be 21 years old, to have resided a year in the state and six months in the town, to pay a poll tax, and to be able to read. Massachusetts has two senators and 11 representatives in congress, and consequently has 13 votes in the electoral college. For several years past the sale of spirituous and intoxicating liquors to be used as a beverage has been prohibited under penalties ranging from $10 fine and 10 days' imprisonment to $50 fine and six months' imprisonment. Ale, porter, strong beer, lager beer, and all wines, as well as distilled spirits, are considered intoxicating. The lawful sale of intoxicating liquors to be used in the arts, or for medicinal, chemical, or mechanical purposes, is vested in a commissioner appointed by the governor. In 1871 permission was given to towns to authorize the sale of ale, porter, strong beer, or lager beer; but in 1873 this law was repealed. For executing the liquor law and general criminal laws a state police was maintained, consisting in 1874 of 100 men, at a cost of $145,000. This force was abolished by a law which was passed Feb. 13, 1875, and went into force March 1, and provision was made for the establishment of a state detective force of 31 men, to be appointed by the governor and council. The state board of health, appointed by the governor, makes regulations concerning the slaughter of swine, and may restrain persons or corporations from carrying on noxious or offensive trades.—The funded debt of the commonwealth, Jan. 1, 1875, amounted to $29,465,204, and was classified as follows: railroad loans, $14,971,016; war loans, $12,936,188; ordinary loans, $1,558,000. Nearly the entire indebtedness of the state is provided for by established sinking funds. The revenue during the year ending Jan. 1, 1875, was $7,009,313; the expenditures were $7,183,247, of which $6,150,391 were ordinary and $1,032,856 special and exceptional. The chief sources of revenue were:

The entire taxable property of the state on May 1, 1874, amounted to $2,164,398,548, of which $1,289,308,763 was real estate,

personal estate, $30,569,512 bank stock not included in the valuation of cities and towns, $217,452,120 deposits in savings banks, and $84,775,750 property of corporations above real estate and machinery taxed in cities and towns. The number of polls was 414,800, on whom the tax amounted to $875,486. The total

municipal taxation for state, county, city, and town purposes, including highway tax, amounted to $28,700,605. During the decade ending with 1874 the taxable property of the commonwealth increased to the extent of $1,032,678,594. The yearly valuation and the annual increase during this period were as follows:

All business corporations are taxed for their real estate and machinery in the place where situated, and their capital stock is taxed by the state at its value over and above the local assessment, the proceeds being distributed to the cities and towns wherein stockholders reside. The property exempted from taxation is valued at $55,088,592, distributed as follows: religious societies, $30,455,075; literary, $13,886,791; charitable and benevolent, $7,726,031; scientific, $2,064,200; agricultural, $956,495. The amount exempted in Boston is $18,713,100, of which $10,650,700 is for churches.—The provisions made by the state for the care of the defective and dependent are liberal and systematic. The charitable and correctional institutions are in charge of separate and independent boards of trustees or inspectors, appointed by the governor and council. They are, however, under the general supervision of the board of state charities, comprising seven members, who collect and publish statistical information concerning them, and recommend to the legislature such action as may seem expedient. On Sept. 30, 1874, the wards of the commonwealth, or persons entirely at its charge, exclusive of prisoners, were 3,626; and adding the blind, the deaf mutes, idiots, and others over whom the state exercises some supervision, the total was 4,103. Including the cost of maintaining the county and city prisons, and of supporting and relieving towns' poor, which is not directly borne by the state, more than $2,000,000 was paid in 1874 for purposes of charity, reform, or correction; and this amount does not include $470,000 of state aid to soldiers. The ordinary appropriations for public charitable and correctional institutions amounted to $568,500, besides $270,000 for charitable purposes outside of institutions, half the latter sum being exceptional. Included in the former sum was $95,000 for the insane, $260,500 for the almshouse, workhouse, and juvenile reformatories, $120,000 for the state prison, $30,000 for deaf mutes, $8,500 for the eye and ear infirmary, $30,000

for the blind, and $20,000 for idiots. The total income of the state from these institutions was about $110,000. The institutions, besides the state prison, owned and managed by the state, with the most important statistics for 1874, were as follows:

Of the total receipts, $343,828 was from appropriations for current expenses, while $282,000 was granted for new buildings. The entire expenditures amounted to $885,647. Each of the above named institutions has a farm, the smallest containing 134 and the largest 375 acres. In 1874 they reported a valuation of $2,400,911 on real estate and $608,949 on personal. The institutions at Westborough and Lancaster are reformatories, the former for boys and the latter for girls; admission to both is by sentence of the courts, and for the term of minority. The establishments at Monson and Bridgewater were originally almshouses; the legislation of 1866 converted the one into a primary school and the other into a workhouse; and the almshouse department of each was abolished in 1872. The school at Monson is for children of poverty, boys and girls; admission is granted by the board of state charities. Several hundred children are annually released from these institutions on probation or indenture, and are regularly visited by the state visiting agents. The general duties of

this agency are to look after offending and neglected children, and to promote their welfare. The number of children in families outside the state institutions and subject to supervision Sept. 30, 1874, was about 1,400. The following institutions, not under state control, were also aided by the state in 1874, and received state beneficiaries:

Massachusetts has provided most liberally for its insane inhabitants. In addition to the asylum in Worcester, which has a capacity for 400 patients, that in Taunton, 500, and that in Northampton, 325, the Tewksbury almshouse has accommodations for 300 chronic harmless insane, and a new asylum capable of receiving 450 is in process of construction at Danvers. Moreover, the McLean asylum in Somerville, which is chiefly supported by private benefactions, will accommodate about 200 patients, the city asylum in Boston about 200, and the county asylum in Ipswich about 70; making the entire capacity for this class not less than 2,450. The number of insane in the state in 1874 was reported at 3,843, of whom 2,625 were under the care of hospitals or overseers of the poor, Sept. 30. The whole number in the various hospitals of the state during the year was 3,380; average number, 2,167; discharged, recovered, 248; improved, 395; not improved, 279; died, 241. Of the number (2,217) remaining Sept. 30, 1874, 821 were supported by the state, 886 by towns, and 510 by individuals. The Massachusetts general hospital in Boston, founded in 1811, affords medical and surgical treatment free to those unable to pay for it. It is supported by the income of its invested funds, to which the state contributed $75,000, and the gifts of individuals. It receives from 1,500 to 2,000 house patients annually, of whom more than half are treated free of charge, and its average of out patients exceeds 1,000 per month. The state prison in Charlestown, in charge of a warden appointed by the governor, is conducted on the congregate plan, the convicts being separated at meals and at night, but

at labor during the day. Disciplinary punishments are the withdrawal of privileges, with solitary confinement in a dark cell. Many of the convicts are taught trades, and a portion of them are instructed in day schools. All are required to attend religious exercises, and have the privilege of a library. The labor of the convicts is let to contractors, and for some years the prison was a source of profit to the state. The income of the institution in 1874 was $81,098, including $77,068 earned by the convicts; the total expenses were $123,673. The number of convicts ranged from 586 to 685, the daily average being 647. The site has been selected in Concord for a new state prison, on the completion of which, according to the original plan, the one in Charlestown will be discontinued. In the several counties of the state, under the management of officers elected by the people, there are 19 jails and 15 houses of correction, though there are but 21 different establishments, as in many cases the jail and house of correction are under one roof. In 1873 the legislature authorized the building of a reformatory prison for women, to be erected within two years, and to it when completed most of the female convicts will be sentenced. Men and women convicted of certain minor offences are sent to the workhouse at Bridgewater, while juvenile offenders are confined in the reformatories at Westborough and Lancaster. An agency for aiding discharged convicts is provided by the state, which appropriated $3,000 for this purpose in 1874; and there is a temporary asylum for discharged female prisoners at Dedham, supported by gifts and the income of investments, for the benefit of which the state has lately made an annual appropriation of $1,500. There are also houses of reformation in Boston and Lowell, besides the industrial school at Lawrence, the Plummer farm school at Salem, and truant schools in Worcester, Springfield, and Cambridge; and there are many private organizations for charitable purposes. The whole number confined in state, county, and city prisons in 1874 was 17,856; average number, 3,483. The entire cost of these was $581,643, while their earnings amounted to $195,212. The county and municipal prisons are to a limited extent under the supervision of a board of prison commissioners appointed by the governor. During 1874, 4,888 paupers were entirely supported by the state, at a cost of $268,096; the average number was 2,229. Besides these, there was an average of 4,057 paupers supported by towns, at a cost of $643,440. Including those partially supported by the state and by towns, the entire cost of pauperism was $1,412,780, of which $403,000 was borne by the state. The almshouse in Tewksbury is now the only state establishment for paupers.—The system of public schools in Massachusetts has attained a very high degree of excellence. Every person having under his control a child between the ages of 8 and 14 years is required to

send it to school at least 20 weeks annually, under penalty of a fine not exceeding $50. Cities and towns must provide truant schools and appoint truant officers, who shall cause the confinement for instruction of habitual truants between the ages of 7 and 15 years. Moreover, there are laws prohibiting the employment of children in manufactories to the neglect of their education. Two agents are employed in visiting the schools of the state for inspection and improvement. In many of the cities and towns text books are furnished free to the pupils in the public schools. The schools are supported by local taxation. The board of education, consisting of 10 members, including the governor and lieutenant governor, has no direct control over the common schools, but exercises an important influence indirectly. It appoints a secretary, who acts as state superintendent, receiving an annual salary of $3,400, which includes expenses. Most of the cities and towns elect superintendents. The most important information concerning the public schools of the commonwealth for 1873-'4 is given in the following statement:

Including the attendance upon academies and private schools (17,800), evening schools (10,194), and charitable and reform schools (1,219), the entire attendance, exclusive of higher institutions of learning, was 326,245; and the entire amount paid for popular education is stated at $7,080,000. Evening schools were supported in 33 cities and towns, at a cost of $52,238. According to the census of 1870, Massachusetts contained 5,726 schools, with 1,428

male and 6,133 female teachers, and 169,337 pupils. The total income of all educational institutions was $4,817,939, of which $383,146 was from endowment, $3,183,794 from taxation and public funds, and $1,250,999 from tuition and other sources. The income of the colleges was $408,126; academies, $285,325; private schools, $533,690. While the number of illiterates over 10 years of age is very large in proportion to the entire population, being .067 per cent., exceeding that of any other New England state except Rhode Island, and that of New York, Pennsylvania, or Ohio, the ratio of native illiterates is smaller than in any of these states except New Hampshire. The statistics of illiteracy previously given show that of 97,742 illiterates 89,830 were of foreign birth, and 85,676 were over 21 years of age. The greatest percentage of illiteracy is found in the manufacturing districts. An important feature has been introduced into the system of education, in accordance with the act of the legislature passed in 1870, which makes industrial drawing a part of the instruction to be given in all public schools, while every city and town of not less than 10,000 inhabitants (23 in number) is required to support free evening drawing schools. The plan of the state director of art education comprehends a 13 years' course of instruction in drawing in the public schools, viz.: three in the primary, six in the grammar, and four in the high schools. Specimens of the drawings made by the pupils are shown in annual public exhibitions. For training teachers of drawing, a state normal art school was opened in Boston in 1873, the legislature having appropriated for this purpose $7,500. The pupils, Jan. 1, 1875, included 58 males and 130 females, and came from 43 cities and towns. Instruction is given by lectures and recitations, with practice; the course, when fully organized, will comprise elementary drawing, painting, sculpture, and architectural and engineering drawing. This is the first institution of the kind established in the United States, and is free to those intending to become teachers of drawing in the Massachusetts schools. The most liberal provision is made by Massachusetts for training teachers. Besides the normal school of art there are five state normal schools under the direction of the board of education. No charge for tuition is made to those who become teachers in the public schools of the commonwealth; others are required to pay $30 a year; and $1,000 is annually appropriated by the state to each school to aid indigent pupils of the former class. The regular course of study occupies two years. One of these institutions is the oldest normal school in the United States, having been established at Lexington in 1839, removed to West Newton in 1844, and to Framingham in 1853. It is exclusively for females, as is also the normal school in Salem. The school in Worcester was opened in September, 1874. The

are the statistics of these schools for the year ending Dec. 1, 1874:

To those above named may be added the girls' high and normal school and the training school in Boston. Teachers' institutes are held under the direction of the secretary of the state board of education, for which the state appropriates $4,000 annually. The sessions are from three to five days each, and from six to ten are held annually. Nearly 2,000 normal school graduates are teaching in the public schools of the commonwealth. The state agricultural college in Amherst, established with the aid of the national endowment, was opened in 1866; it has an extensive farm, well supplied with thoroughbred animals, and with the buildings and

apparatus necessary for imparting a thorough industrial education. The course of study occupies four years, on the completion of which the degree of bachelor of science is conferred. There are agricultural, botanical, and veterinary departments. Applicants for admission must be 15 years of age and pass an examination. The tuition fee is $50 a year. The ordinary annual expenses of the institution are about $30,000, while the regular income is about $25,000, including $10,000 from tuition and room rent and $15,000 from the permanent cash fund of $233,333. In 1874-'5 it had 11 instructors and 121 students, a library of 1,500 volumes, and extensive collections in natural history.—Of the leading institutions of learning not under the patronage of the state, Amherst college, Harvard university, and Williams college are described under their respective titles, while Boston college and Boston university are mentioned in the article on that city. The colleges and professional schools of the state are represented in the following statement for 1874-'5, the number of instructors and pupils in the colleges including also those in the professional departments:

The number of instructors and pupils above given for the Boston university do not include those in the preparatory departments in East Greenwich academy and the New England conservatory of music in Boston. The school of medicine of this university receives pupils of both sexes. The institute of technology in Boston, which is fully described in the articles and (vol. vi., p. 431), is one of the most complete institutions of the kind in the United States. The charge for tuition is $200 per annum. In 1874-'5 it had 34 instructors and 283 pupils. The Worcester county free institute of industrial science was organized in Worcester in 1868, for practical education in the arts, agriculture, manufactures, mercantile

business, &c. It was founded in 1865 by John Boynton, who gave for the purpose $100,000; $200,000 was also contributed by Stephen Salisbury, and a large sum was given by Ichabod Washburn. No charge is made for tuition to residents of Worcester county, and but a small charge to others. In 1869 a grant of $50,000 was made by the state, in consideration of which the institution will receive 20 pupils annually for the entire course of three years, free of charge. In 1874-'5 it had 10 instructors, 99 pupils, and productive funds amounting to $367,000. Besides these institutions and the agricultural college, special instruction in science is afforded by the Lawrence scientific school and the mining school of Harvard

in agriculture and horticulture by the Bussey institute, connected with the same institution; and in natural history by the museum of comparative zoölogy in Cambridge and the Anderson school of natural history on Penikese island. (See, and .) The university of modern languages at Newburyport has been organized for the purpose of affording to students, without regard to age, sex, or nationality, instruction in European and Asiatic languages, and also modern sciences, by teachers native of the respective countries. The English department is intended for foreign students desiring to learn that language. The endowment fund (1875) exceeds $300,000, which it is intended to increase to $1,000,000, and the buildings for domestic and school purposes are in process of construction. The oriental department is to be first opened. The leading institutions for the superior instruction of females are Abbott academy, Andover; Bradford academy, Bradford; Gannett institute, Boston; Lasell female seminary, Auburndale; Maplewood institute for young ladies, Pittsfield; Mount Holyoke female seminary, South Hadley; Notre Dame academy, Boston Highlands; the Oread institute for young ladies, Worcester; Wheaton female seminary, Norton; Wellesley college, Needham; and Smith college, Northampton.—There are not fewer than 150 libraries other than private in Massachusetts containing more than 1,000 volumes each, and about 50 containing 10,000 or more. The largest are that of Amherst college, about 29,000; Andover theological seminary, 32,000; Boston Athenæum, 103,000; mercantile, 20,000; public, 260,500; state, 34,000; Harvard university, 200,000; free public library, New Bedford, 30,000; Essex institute and Athenæum, Salem, 43,000; city library association, Springfield, 36,000; museum of natural history, Springfield, 28,000; American antiquarian society, Worcester, 55,000; and the public library of Worcester, 35,500. According to the census of 1870, the whole number of libraries was 3,169, with an aggregate of 3,017,813 volumes. Of these, 1,625, with 1,007,204 volumes, were private, and 1,544, with 2,010,609 volumes, other than private, including the state library of 35,000 volumes; 95 town, city, &c., 475,853; 18 court and law, 27,708; 20 school, college, &c., 253,127; 1,042 Sabbath school, 539,609; 164 church, 85,956; 11 of historical, literary, and scientific societies, 186,800; 6 of benevolent and secret associations, 63,000; and 186 circulating, 347,556. The whole number of newspapers and periodicals was 259, having an aggregate circulation of 1,692,124, and issuing annually 129,691,266 copies. There were 21 daily, with a circulation of 231,625; 1 tri-weekly, 800; 16 semi-weekly, 41,484; 153 weekly, 899,465; 11 semi-monthly, 45,200; 48 monthly, 462,150; 9 quarterly, 11,400; and 1 annual, 3,000. In 1874 the total number was reported at 321, including 26 daily, 1 tri-weekly, 10 semi-weekly, 212

weekly, 4 bi-weekly, 2 semi-monthly, 55 month- ly, and 1 bi-monthly. The total number of religious organizations was 1,848, having 1,764 edifices, with 882,317 sittings, and property valued at $24,488,285. The denominations were represented as follows:

—The first settlement in Massachusetts was made on the Elizabeth islands in 1602 by Bartholomew Gosnold and 32 English colonists; but it was soon abandoned. Other expeditions visited the coast for the purpose of getting possession of the country, but with unimportant results. On Sept. 6, 1620 (O. S.), about 100 English who had sought religious liberty in Holland, having embarked from Delft Haven, set sail from Plymouth, England, in the Mayflower, of 180 tons, for the purpose of settling in America. They had made terms with the Virginia company, which had received from the crown important privileges in America. They reached Cape Cod Nov. 9, and anchored in the roadstead of the present Provincetown. Before landing they drew up and subscribed a solemn compact or constitution, by the terms of which they were to be ruled; and immediately after John Carver was elected governor for one year. An exploring party spent some days in searching for a favorable place to begin the settlement, and they at last landed at Plymouth, Dec. 11 (O. S.). Here the severity of the weather, exposure, and bad food brought on sickness, which reduced their number nearly one half in about four months. Three months after landing they made a treaty of amity with the Indian chief Massasoit and his people, with whom they long remained friends. With other chiefs and tribes they had occasional disputes and skirmishes, but they were soon freed from serious molestation. In these matters Capt. Miles Standish achieved great reputation. In the spring the Mayflower departed, and shortly after Carver died, and was succeeded by William Bradford, with Isaac Allerton as his assistant. Until 1623, when

they had a plentiful harvest, the colony endured many privations, and were often near famishing. In that year some changes were made in the system of labor, and the plan of common property was abandoned. During this time the colony received accessions from abroad, and other settlements were attempted. A new patent was obtained in 1622 by Mr. Weston of London, formerly connected with the Plymouth colonists, under which he despatched an expedition to settle for him a plantation in Massachusetts bay. They were hospitably received at Plymouth, and commenced a plantation at Wessagusset, now Weymouth. All efforts to obtain a patent from the crown were unavailing, and the Plymouth colonists were thus obliged to carry on their government without the royal sanction. They quietly assumed all the necessary powers and discharged all the functions of the state. A governor, with a council at first of five and afterward of seven assistants, and a legislature consisting at first of the “whole body of the male inhabitants,” made and administered the laws by which the state was ruled. In 1628 an expedition commanded by John Endicott reached Salem, having been organized by an English company which had obtained a grant of territory lying between the Atlantic and the Pacific, and extending 3 m. S. of the river Charles and Massachusetts bay and 3 m. N. of every part of the river Merrimack. Endicott's safe arrival excited renewed interest, new associates joined, and a royal patent was at last obtained for the company of the Massachusetts Bay. The charter established a corporation, and the associates were constituted a body politic. Its officers were a governor, deputy, and 18 assistants, to be annually elected. A general assembly of the freemen, to be held four times a year or oftener if required, was intrusted with legislative powers. The question of religious liberty was avoided in the instrument, but the making of laws contrary to those of England was strictly forbidden. In 1629 a re-enforcement was despatched, consisting of 300 men, 80 women, and 26 children, with victuals, arms, tools, cattle, and goats; and in the same year it was determined to transfer the government and patent of the company from London to New England. The old officers resigned, and new officers were appointed from among those who intended to emigrate, John Winthrop being made governor. A new emigration was thus promoted, and soon the colony received an accession of about 1,000 persons, who had been conveyed in 17 vessels. Sites for settlements were promptly selected; and the names of Charlestown, Boston, Watertown, Dorchester, Roxbury, Salem, Mystic, Saugus (Lynn), and others, occur in the history of this period. This colony suffered great hardships. Many died, and others returned disheartened to England. The Massachusetts company continued to receive additions from England, and in the exercise of their political and religious

privileges manifested a jealous and vigilant interest. Intolerance led to the banishment of Roger Williams and Anne Hutchinson in the early years of the settlement, as it did later to the persecution of the Quakers. Issues were made between the magistrates and people on the construction of the charter in reference to legislation and representation, the mode of voting was changed from the show of hands to the ballot, and a law against arbitrary taxation was passed; while from 1634 to 1644 a dispute continued concerning the relative powers of the assistants and deputies. The Massachusetts colonists for four years after their settlement had been left to bear their burdens and work out their own way without the interference of England. But the increasing emigration from the latter country, and a suspicion on the part of the crown that the colony desired to be independent, led to an attempt to annul the charter, and the appointment of a special commission for its government, at the head of which was Archbishop Laud. The colony received an order, which they evaded, to deliver up their charter, and at a meeting of the general court measures were taken for the fortification of Boston harbor, Charlestown, and Dorchester, and arrangements made for drilling troops. The political agitations of the mother country preserved the colony from the dangers which threatened her from that quarter. A disturbance with the Pequots led to the Pequot war (1637), the brunt of which was borne by the settlers in Connecticut. On the restoration of the Stuarts new troubles threatened Massachusetts. Its protest against the injustice of being subject to the laws of parliament, acquiesced in by the long parliament, was disregarded by the judges under the restoration, and it was declared to be under the legislative supremacy of parliament without restriction. The colony had addressed the king on his return, praying for the continuance of civil and religious liberties; and Leverett, the agent in London, was urged to support their application. Much controversy ensued, and at length in 1662 a commission sent to England obtained a confirmation of the charter from the king, and a conditional promise of an amnesty for all offences during the late troubles; but the king maintained his right to interfere in the domestic concerns of the colony, demanded the repeal of all laws derogatory to his authority, the taking of the oath of allegiance, the administration of justice in his name, the complete toleration of the church of England, and a concession of the elective franchise to every inhabitant possessing a competent estate. These demands were strongly opposed by one portion of the community, while the other was willing to yield for the sake of quiet. Commissioners charged to investigate the affairs of the colony arrived in 1664. Massachusetts published an order prohibiting complaints to them, and a remonstrance was addressed to the king. After an

unsuccessful attempt to carry put the purposes of their mission, the commissioners went into Maine, and were subsequently recalled. Massachusetts was reproved by the king, while Bellingham, the governor, Hawthorne, and two or three others were commanded to appear in England, but refused. The prosperity of the colonies received a severe check in the war with the Indians, called King Philip's war, which commenced in 1675, and on the part of the savages was one of desperation. During this war, which lasted till the latter part of 1676, and was terminated by the death of Philip, 12 or 13 towns were destroyed, more than 600 of the colonists perished in the field, and about 600 houses were burned. Of the men 1 in 20 had fallen, and of the families 1 in 20 was houseless, while the expenses reached the enormous sum for that day of $500,000. Though the war had been conducted without assistance from England, it had hardly ceased when an emissary from that country, Edward Randolph, arrived. His pretensions were disallowed, and he returned to excite further hostility against Massachusetts. A committee of the privy council, at the suit of Mason and Gorges, subsequently denied her right of jurisdiction over Maine and New Hampshire, which thus became separated; but the title to Maine was purchased and retained by Massachusetts until 1820. Notwithstanding many concessions, the colony failed to effect a reconciliation with the king. In 1684 the high court of chancery in England gave judgment for the crown against the governor and company of Massachusetts, and their charter was declared forfeited. Joseph Dudley was appointed president of Massachusetts, the general court was dissolved, and the new commission superseded the government under the charter. On Dec. 20, 1686, Dudley was superseded by Sir Edmund Andros. The new governor and his council, in the most arbitrary and illegal manner, proceeded to make laws and levy taxes; and this tyrannous rule was submitted to, not without protest and opposition, for more than two years. In April, 1689, reports having been received of the flight of James and the accession of William and Mary, on a rumor of an intended massacre by the governor's guards, the men of Boston, aided by others from the country, rose in arms, imprisoned Andros and others who were obnoxious, and reinstated the old magistrates. Next day crowds from the country came pouring in; the people took the castle and the frigate Rose, and occupied the fortifications; town meetings were held, representatives chosen, and the general court was restored. The same spirit prevailed at Plymouth; Clark, the agent of Andros, was imprisoned, and Hinckley, the former governor, reinstated. Massachusetts took part in 1690 in the intercolonial war between the possessions of France and England. A fleet under Sir William Phips captured and plundered Port Royal. An expedition to

failed, and the colony, being unable to pay the troops, issued treasury notes, the first paper money seen in the colonies. A new charter was given in 1692, by which Plymouth was united to Massachusetts. At this period Massachusetts contained a population of about 40,000. It was divided into the counties of Suffolk, Essex, Middlesex, and Hampshire, and comprised 55 towns. Plymouth, with a population of about 7,000, was divided into the counties of Plymouth, Bristol, and Barnstable, and comprised 17 towns. Under the new charter, the governor, lieutenant governor, and secretary were appointed by the king. No act of the legislature was to be valid without the consent of the governor, and he had other important negative as well as positive powers. Sir William Phips was appointed first governor. At about this period occurred the witchcraft delusion. (See .) In l703-'4 the province suffered from the French and Indians, who attacked and burned Deerfield, which had been rebuilt since King Philip's war. In 1722 war was resumed with the Indians, and continued until the latter part of 1725, when the troubles with them were terminated. War having been declared between England and France in 1744, the colonial possessions were at once involved. Massachusetts contributed largely to the expedition which captured Louisburg in 1745, and exerted her best energies in the plans for the conquest of Canada and other military operations until the conclusion of peace in 1748. In a few years war again commenced, and the province once more gave her sons and her wealth to the cause of the parent country. The passage of the stamp act aroused the wildest excitement, and its repeal the following year was welcomed with the most extravagant demonstrations of joy. Further plans for revenue were then proposed by the home government, which also refused to withdraw its troops. The arrival of the Romney man-of-war renewed the excitement, and Massachusetts issued another circular letter to the colonies which the ministry in vain commanded them to rescind. The Boston massacre in 1770, the destruction of the tea in 1773, the port bill in 1774, are notable incidents preceding the revolution. The province was well represented in the general congress, and the men of Massachusetts were alive to every act of aggression. They took possession of the arsenal at Charlestown, and prepared for the approaching struggle. The assembly adjourned to Concord, and organized as a provincial congress. At Lexington and Concord Massachusetts made the final appeal to arms. Throughout the revolutionary war Massachusetts sustained her former reputation for patriotism and public spirit, and the details of her history at this period will be found in the accounts of those places within her borders which are of historical interest. The population of Massachusetts has been estimated at 200,000 in 1750; 220,000, exclusive of slaves, in 1755;

241,000, including 5,200 slaves, in 1763; and 852,000 in 1775. In 1780 a constitution was framed for the state, which was submitted to the vote of the people and adopted. It is still the supreme law of the state, though several times amended. By a clause in the bill of rights prefixed to it, slavery was soon decided to have been abolished. John Hancock was elected first governor. Six years later, in 1786, civil disturbances commenced in the centre and west of the state, caused by the poverty and distress of a great portion of the people, and the heavy taxes necessary to pay the state debt. An insurrection known as Shays's rebellion from the name of its principal leader, Daniel Shays, broke out, and was not suppressed without bloodshed. The federal constitution was ratified by a state convention, which met in Boston, Jan. 9, 1788, and gave its assent by a vote of 187 to 168. After the formation of the government Massachusetts adhered generally to the federal party, and was foremost among the states opposed to the war with England in 1812, though she furnished great numbers of seamen to the navy. In 1814 she sent delegates to the convention of the New England states which met at Hartford to confer upon the subject of grievances, and to take such measures for relief as were “not repugnant to their obligations as members of the Union.” Of that convention George Cabot of Massachusetts was president. In 1820 a convention to revise the constitution proposed various amendments, nine of which were ratified by the popular vote. In the same year the district of Maine was separated from Massachusetts, with the consent of the latter, and erected into a state. In 1857 amendments of the constitution were made, by which the district system of choosing representatives and senators to the state legislature was adopted, in place of the apportionment by towns and counties. During the civil war Massachusetts furnished to the army and navy 159,165 troops, or 131,116 reduced to the three years' standard, the latter being a surplus of 13,492 over all calls by the general government. The losses included 3,749 killed in action, 9,086 who died from wounds or disease, 15,645 discharged for disability contracted in service, and 5,866 not accounted for, of which at least one half were probably deaths. The total expenditures by the state on account of the war were $30,162,200. Since the close of the war a militia force of about 6,000 men has been maintained, at an average annual expense of $175,000.


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318 consideration he thanked God he was forever inaccessible, and if in life's vicissitudes he should become destitute through their lack, he was glad to think that with his sheer valor he was all the freer to work out his salvation. "Wer nur selbst was hätte," says Lessing's Tempelherr, in Nathan the Wise, "mein Gott, mein Gott, ich habe nichts!" This ideal of the well-born man without possessions was embodied in knight-errantry and templardom; and, hideously corrupted as it has always been, it still dominates sentimentally, if not practically, the military and aristocratic view of life. We glorify the soldier as the man absolutely unincumbered. Owning nothing but his bare life, and willing to toss that up at any moment when the cause commands him, he is the representative of unhampered freedom in ideal directions. The laborer who pays with his person day by day, and has no rights invested in the future, offers also much of this ideal detachment. Like the savage, he may make his bed wherever his right arm can support him, and from his simple and athletic attitude of observation, the property-owner seems buried and smothered in ignoble externalities and trammels, "wading in straw and rubbish to his knees." The claims which things make are corrupters of manhood, mortgages on the soul, and a drag anchor on our progress towards the empyrean.

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320 again to talk of his craving for the psalter, Francis said: "After you have got your psalter you will crave a breviary; and after you have got your breviary you will sit in your stall like a grand prelate, and will say to your brother: 'Hand me my breviary.' … And thenceforward he denied all such requests, saying: A man possesses of learning only so much as comes out of him in action, and a monk is a good preacher only so far as his deeds proclaim him such, for every tree is known by its fruits."

But beyond this more worthily athletic attitude involved in doing and being, there is, in the desire of not having, something profounder still, something related to that fundamental mystery of religious experience, the satisfaction found in absolute surrender to the larger power. So long as any secular safeguard is retained, so long as any residual prudential guarantee is clung to, so long the surrender is incomplete, the vital crisis is not passed, fear still stands sentinel, and mistrust of the divine obtains: we hold by two anchors, looking to God, it is true, after a fashion, but also holding by our proper machinations. In certain medical experiences we have the same critical point to overcome. A drunkard, or a morphine or cocaine maniac, offers himself to be cured. He appeals to the doctor to wean him from his enemy, but he dares not face blank abstinence. The tyrannical drug is still an anchor to windward: he hides supplies of it among his clothing; arranges secretly to have it smuggled in in case of need. Even so an incompletely regenerate man still trusts in his own expedients. His money is like the sleeping potion which the chronically wakeful patient keeps beside his bed; he throws himself on God, but if he should need the other help, there it


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Rh will be also. Every one knows cases of this incomplete and ineffective desire for reform,—drunkards whom, with all their self-reproaches and resolves, one perceives to be quite unwilling seriously to contemplate never being drunk again! Really to give up anything on which we have relied, to give it up definitively, 'for good and all' and forever, signifies one of those radical alterations of character which came under our notice in the lectures on conversion. In it the inner man rolls over into an entirely different position of equilibrium, lives in a new centre of energy from this time on, and the turning-point and hinge of all such operations seems usually to involve the sincere acceptance of certain nakednesses and destitutions.

Accordingly, throughout the annals of the saintly life, we find this ever-recurring note: Fling yourself upon God's providence without making any reserve whatever,—take no thought for the morrow,—sell all you have and give it to the poor,—only when the sacrifice is ruthless and reckless will the higher safety really arrive. As a concrete example let me read a page from the biography of Antoinette Bourignon, a good woman, much persecuted in her day by both Protestants and Catholics, because she would not take her religion at second hand. When a young girl, in her father's house,—

"She spent whole nights in prayer, oft repeating: Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And being one night in a most profound penitence, she said from the bottom of her heart: 'O my Lord! What must I do to please thee? For I have nobody to teach me. Speak to my soul and it will hear thee.' At that instant she heard, as if another had spoke within her: Forsake all earthly things. Separate thyself from the love of the creatures. Deny thyself. She was quite astonished, not understanding this language, and mused long on these three points, thinking how she could fulfill them. She thought she could not live without earthly things, nor without loving the creatures,


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324 the mystery of veracity: "Naked came I into the world," etc.,—whoever first said that, possessed this mystery. My own bare entity must fight the battle—shams cannot save me. There is also the mystery of democracy, or sentiment of the equality before God of all his creatures. This sentiment (which seems in general to have been more widespread in Mohammedan than in Christian lands) tends to nullify man's usual acquisitiveness. Those who have it spurn dignities and honors, privileges and advantages, preferring, as I said in a former lecture, to grovel on the common level before the face of God. It is not exactly the sentiment of humility, though it comes so close to it in practice. It is humanity, rather, refusing to enjoy anything that others do not share. A profound moralist, writing of Christ's saying, 'Sell all thou hast and follow me,' proceeds as follows:—


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Rh

We heard in previous lectures of the vivified face of the world as it may appear to converts after their awakening. As a rule, religious persons generally assume that whatever natural facts connect themselves in any way with their destiny are significant of the divine purposes with them. Through prayer the purpose, often far from obvious, comes home to them, and if it be 'trial,' strength to endure the trial is given. Thus at all stages of the prayerful life we find the persuasion that in the process of communion energy from on high flows in to meet demand, and becomes operative within the phenomenal world. So long as this operativeness is admitted to be real, it makes no essential difference whether its immediate effects be subjective or objective. The fundamental religious point is that in prayer, spiritual energy, which otherwise would slumber, does become active, and spiritual work of some kind is effected really.

So much for Prayer, taken in the wide sense of any kind of communion. As the core of religion, we must return to it in the next lecture.

The last aspect of the religious life which remains for


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374 The debate is serious. In some sense and to some degree both worlds must be acknowledged and taken account of; and in the seen world both aggressiveness and non-resistance are needful. It is a question of emphasis, of more or less. Is the saint's type or the strong-man's type the more ideal?

It has often been supposed, and even now, I think, it is supposed by most persons, that there can be one intrinsically ideal type of human character. A certain kind of man, it is imagined, must be the best man absolutely and apart from the utility of his function, apart from economical considerations. The saint's type, and the knight's or gentleman's type, have always been rival claimants of this absolute ideality; and in the ideal of military religious orders both types were in a manner blended. According to the empirical philosophy, however, all ideals are matters of relation. It would be absurd, for example, to ask for a definition of 'the ideal horse,' so long as dragging drays and running races, bearing children, and jogging about with tradesmen's packages all remain as indispensable differentiations of equine function. You may take what you call a general all-round animal as a compromise, but he will be inferior to any horse of a more specialized type, in some one particular direction. We must not forget this now when, in discussing saintliness, we ask if it be an ideal type of manhood. We must test it by its economical relations.

I think that the method which Mr. Spencer uses in his Data of Ethics will help to fix our opinion. Ideality in conduct is altogether a matter of adaptation. A society where all were invariably aggressive would destroy itself by inner friction, and in a society where some are aggressive, others must be non-resistant, if there is to be any kind of order. This is the present constitution of


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94 "May I have the pleasure of accompanying you to the play to-night?"

"Of course you can come," replied Helen; "who is to hinder you? Your membership entitles you, and even your medal would pass you. I am going to strain my privilege and take with me a poor young man who has neither of your advantages. Fred Harley is about to he introduced to our great Earth Poet to-night."

"Well, Fred is a good fellow, and I am glad to see that you interest yourself in his welfare. He has only a few days in town; he has entered heart and soul into helping on my work. I have given him the position of Chief Engineer on the Humbrian Plains contract. It will occupy him, his staff and cadets, and some two hundred men for five years. It is highly probable that he will obtain the Badge at the end of that term if his work is thoroughly well performed, and it will be. He has already obtained a very important concession, The Ministers of Railways, Air Boats and Sea Boats have each given him a Life Pass, so he may travel how he likes, and his journeys will never be charged against his labor."

"I am pleased to hear that," said Helen. "How pleasant it is to live under a government that recognises services and gives rewards, in the world we come from all they have learned to give is a pension or a title. More frequently the latter than the former. The highest of these is a new name and a seat in an obsolete parliament. Some men get a lot of titles; so many that they seem to drag the alphabet after their names."

"Yes, and there is another vast difference. On earth there is no authority that can grant anything equal to that which Fred now has, much less what he will have bye-and-bye. Speaking of earth: do you remember much of it? You rarely mention it to me. To hear you name it is a new sensation, and yet you were conscious of the dual life all the time.

"Conscious on this side; not on the other. My condition was just the reverse of yours. On Earth I knew nothing of Mars."

"You were married and lived a long life there; I have been told that you were over sixty and had a family and that your husband is still alive."

"All that is true but you will excuse me if I do not at present talk about it; I have found it best since childhood never to let the lives mix; I do not think much about my earth life; I believe it was a school or a nursery of a hard sort and that to be born here is a promotion. I have several reasons for not saying much; you will find out some of them when you gain consciousness—but here we are—good afternoon."

"I will not trouble you to-night; I wish our mutual friend Fred to spend a really enjoyable evening and that he is sure to do if with you."

"Oh how kind; have you any more like that. Ta-ta till we meet again."

Sidonian life is evidently a pleasant thing going by the peeps of it that we get from these diaries. No need to lock a door; all amusements free to all. No class distinction in evening or afternoon gatherings or in public

title: Page:Melbourne and Mars.djvu/96


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Rh and assurance indescribably intense, accompanied with a sense of being bathed in a warm glow of light, as though the external condition had brought about the internal effect—a feeling of having passed beyond the body, though the scene around me stood out more clearly and as if nearer to me than before, by reason of the illumination in the midst of which I seemed to be placed. This deep emotion lasted, though with decreasing strength, until I reached home, and for some time after, only gradually passing away."

The writer adds that having had further experiences of a similar sort, he now knows them well.

"The spiritual life," he writes, "justifies itself to those who live it; but what can we say to those who do not understand? This, at least, we can say, that it is a life whose experiences are proved real to their possessor, because they remain with him when brought closest into contact with the objective realities of life. Dreams cannot stand this test. We wake from them to find that they are but dreams. Wanderings of an overwrought brain do not stand this test. These highest experiences that I have had of God's presence have been rare and brief—flashes of consciousness which have compelled me to exclaim with surprise—God is here!—or conditions of exaltation and insight, less intense, and only gradually passing away. I have severely questioned the worth of these moments. To no soul have I named them, lest I should be building my life and work on mere phantasies of the brain. But I find that, after every questioning and test, they stand out to-day as the most real experiences of my life, and experiences which have explained and justified and unified all past experiences and all past growth. Indeed, their reality and their far-reaching significance are ever becoming more clear and evident. When they came, I was living the fullest, strongest, sanest, deepest life. I was not seeking them. What I was seeking, with resolute determination, was to live more intensely my own life, as against what I knew would be the adverse judgment of the world. It was in the most real seasons that the Real Presence


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Author:Henry Herbert Goddard

Works

 * "The Effects of Mind on Body as evidenced by Faith Cures" in American Journal of Psychology (1899, vol. x.)
 * The Kallikak Family (1912)

title: Author:Henry Herbert Goddard


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398 came, and I was aware that I was immersed in the infinite ocean of God."

Even the least mystical of you must by this time be convinced of the existence of mystical moments as states of consciousness of an entirely specific quality, and of the deep impression which they make on those who have them. A Canadian psychiatrist, Dr. R. M. Bucke, gives to the more distinctly characterized of these phenomena the name of cosmic consciousness. "Cosmic consciousness in its more striking instances is not," Dr. Bucke says, "simply an expansion or extension of the self-conscious mind with which we are all familiar, but the superaddition of a function as distinct from any possessed by the average man as self-consciousness is distinct from any function possessed by one of the higher animals."

"The prime characteristic of cosmic consciousness is a consciousness of the cosmos, that is, of the life and order of the universe. Along with the consciousness of the cosmos there occurs an intellectual enlightenment which alone would place the individual on a new plane of existence—would make him almost a member of a new species. To this is added a state of moral exaltation, an indescribable feeling of elevation, elation, and joyousness, and a quickening of the moral sense, which is fully as striking, and more important than is the enhanced intellectual power. With these come what may be called a sense of immortality, a consciousness of eternal life, not a conviction that he shall have this, but the consciousness that he has it already."

It was Dr. Bucke's own experience of a typical onset of cosmic consciousness in his own person which led him to investigate it in others. He has printed his conclusions in a highly interesting volume, from which I take the following account of what occurred to him:—


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332 certainty. In a later lecture I will ask whether objective certainty can ever be added by theological reasoning to a religion that already empirically prevails.

One word, also, about the reproach that in following this sort of an empirical method we are handing ourselves over to systematic skepticism.

Since it is impossible to deny secular alterations in our sentiments and needs, it would be absurd to affirm that one's own age of the world can be beyond correction by the next age. Skepticism cannot, therefore, be ruled out by any set of thinkers as a possibility against which their conclusions are secure; and no empiricist ought to claim exemption from this universal liability. But to admit one's liability to correction is one thing, and to embark upon a sea of wanton doubt is another. Of willfully playing into the hands of skepticism we cannot be accused. He who acknowledges the imperfectness of his instrument, and makes allowance for it in discussing his observations, is in a much better position for gaining truth than if he claimed his instrument to be infallible. Or is dogmatic or scholastic theology less doubted in point of fact for claiming, as it does, to be in point of right undoubtable? And if not, what command over truth would this kind of theology really lose if, instead of absolute certainty, she only claimed reasonable probability for her conclusions? If we claim only reasonable probability, it will be as much as men who love the truth can ever at any given moment hope to have within their grasp. Pretty surely it will be more than we could have had, if we were unconscious of our liability to err.

Nevertheless, dogmatism will doubtless continue to condemn us for this confession. The mere outward form of


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Rh are best spoken to by mystical truth. Many mystical scriptures are indeed little more than musical compositions.

These words, if they do not awaken laughter as you receive them, probably stir chords within you which music and language touch in common. Music gives us ontological messages which non-musical criticism is unable to contradict, though it may laugh at our foolishness in minding them. There is a verge of the mind which these things haunt; and whispers therefrom mingle with the operations of our understanding, even as the waters of the infinite ocean send their waves to break among the pebbles that lie upon our shores.


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486 5. An assurance of safety and a temper of peace, and, in relation to others, a preponderance of loving affections.

In illustrating these characteristics by documents, we have been literally bathed in sentiment. In re-reading my manuscript, I am almost appalled at the amount of emotionality which I find in it. After so much of this, we can afford to be dryer and less sympathetic in the rest of the work that lies before us.

The sentimentality of many of my documents is a consequence of the fact that I sought them among the extravagances of the subject. If any of you are enemies of what our ancestors used to brand as enthusiasm, and are, nevertheless, still listening to me now, you have probably felt my selection to have been sometimes almost perverse, and have wished I might have stuck to soberer examples. I reply that I took these extremer examples as yielding the profounder information. To learn the secrets of any science, we go to expert specialists, even though they may be eccentric persons, and not to commonplace pupils. We combine what they tell us with the rest of our wisdom, and form our final judgment independently. Even so with religion. We who have pursued such radical expressions of it may now be sure that we know its secrets as authentically as any one can know them who learns them from another; and we have next to answer, each of us for himself, the practical question: what are the dangers in this element of life? and in what proportion may it need to be restrained by other elements, to give the proper balance?

But this question suggests another one which I will answer immediately and get it out of the way, for it has more than once already vexed us. Ought it to be


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Rh that in all men the mixture of religion with other elements should be identical? Ought it, indeed, to be assumed that the lives of all men should show identical religious elements? In other words, is the existence of so many religious types and sects and creeds regrettable?

To these questions I answer 'No' emphatically. And my reason is that I do not see how it is possible that creatures in such different positions and with such different powers as human individuals are, should have exactly the same functions and the same duties. No two of us have identical difficulties, nor should we be expected to work out identical solutions. Each, from his peculiar angle of observation, takes in a certain sphere of fact and trouble, which each must deal with in a unique manner. One of us must soften himself, another must harden himself; one must yield a point, another must stand firm,—in order the better to defend the position assigned him. If an Emerson were forced to be a Wesley, or a Moody forced to be a Whitman, the total human consciousness of the divine would suffer. The divine can mean no single quality, it must mean a group of qualities, by being champions of which in alternation, different men may all find worthy missions. Each attitude being a syllable in human nature's total message, it takes the whole of us to spell the meaning out completely. So a 'god of battles' must be allowed to be the god for one kind of person, a god of peace and heaven and home, the god for another. We must frankly recognize the fact that we live in partial systems, and that parts are not interchangeable in the spiritual life. If we are peevish and jealous, destruction of the self must be an element of our religion; why need it be one if we are good and sympathetic from the outset? If we are sick souls, we require a religion of deliverance; but why think so much


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Author:Horace Fletcher

Works

 * Menticulture or the A–B–C of True Living (1896)
 * Happiness as Found in Forethought Minus Fearthought (1898)
 * The Last Waif, or Social Quarantine: A Brief (1898)
 * The New Glutton or Epicure (1903)
 * The A.B.–Z. of Our Own Nutrition (1903)
 * Fletcherism: What It Is or How I Became Young at Sixty (1913) (scan)

title: Author:Horace Fletcher


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Rh decide which elements were qualified, by their general harmony with other branches of knowledge, to be considered true; and yet the best man at this science might be the man who found it hardest to be personally devout. Tout savoir c'est tout pardonner. The name of Renan would doubtless occur to many persons as an example of the way in which breadth of knowledge may make one only a dilettante in possibilities, and blunt the acuteness of one's living faith. If religion be a function by which either God's cause or man's cause is to be really advanced, then he who lives the life of it, however narrowly, is a better servant than he who merely knows about it, however much. Knowledge about life is one thing; effective occupation of a place in life, with its dynamic currents passing through your being, is another.

For this reason, the science of religions may not be an equivalent for living religion; and if we turn to the inner difficulties of such a science, we see that a point comes when she must drop the purely theoretic attitude, and either let her knots remain uncut, or have them cut by active faith. To see this, suppose that we have our science of religions constituted as a matter of fact. Suppose that she has assimilated all the necessary historical material and distilled out of it as its essence the same conclusions which I myself a few moments ago pronounced. Suppose that she agrees that religion, wherever it is an active thing, involves a belief in ideal presences, and a belief that in our prayerful communion with them, work is done, and something real comes to pass. She has now to exert her critical activity, and to decide how far, in the light of other sciences and in that of general philosophy, such beliefs can be considered true.


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490 Dogmatically to decide this is an impossible task. Not only are the other sciences and the philosophy still far from being completed, but in their present state we find them full of conflicts. The sciences of nature know nothing of spiritual presences, and on the whole hold no practical commerce whatever with the idealistic conceptions towards which general philosophy inclines. The so-called scientist is, during his scientific hours at least, so materialistic that one may well say that on the whole the influence of science goes against the notion that religion should be recognized at all. And this antipathy to religion finds an echo within the very science of religions itself. The cultivator of this science has to become acquainted with so many groveling and horrible superstitions that a presumption easily arises in his mind that any belief that is religious probably is false. In the 'prayerful communion' of savages with such mumbo-jumbos of deities as they acknowledge, it is hard for us to see what genuine spiritual work—even though it were work relative only to their dark savage obligations—can possibly be done.

The consequence is that the conclusions of the science of religions are as likely to be adverse as they are to be favorable to the claim that the essence of religion is true. There is a notion in the air about us that religion is probably only an anachronism, a case of 'survival,' an atavistic relapse into a mode of thought which humanity in its more enlightened examples has outgrown; and this notion our religious anthropologists at present do little to counteract.

This view is so widespread at the present day that I must consider it with some explicitness before I pass to my own conclusions. Let me call it the 'Survival theory,' for brevity's sake.


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Rh The pivot round which the religious life, as we have traced it, revolves, is the interest of the individual in his private personal destiny. Religion, in short, is a monumental chapter in the history of human egotism. The gods believed in—whether by crude savages or by men disciplined intellectually—agree with each other in recognizing personal calls. Religious thought is carried on in terms of personality, this being, in the world of religion, the one fundamental fact. To-day, quite as much as at any previous age, the religious individual tells you that the divine meets him on the basis of his personal concerns.

Science, on the other hand, has ended by utterly repudiating the personal point of view. She catalogues her elements and records her laws indifferent as to what purpose may be shown forth by them, and constructs her theories quite careless of their bearing on human anxieties and fates. Though the scientist may individually nourish a religion, and be a theist in his irresponsible hours, the days are over when it could be said that for Science herself the heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork. Our solar system, with its harmonies, is seen now as but one passing case of a certain sort of moving equilibrium in the heavens, realized by a local accident in an appalling wilderness of worlds where no life can exist. In a span of time which as a cosmic interval will count but as an hour, it will have ceased to be. The Darwinian notion of chance production, and subsequent destruction, speedy or deferred, applies to the largest as well as to the smallest facts. It is impossible, in the present temper of the scientific imagination, to find in the driftings of the cosmic atoms, whether they work on the universal or on the particular scale, anything but a kind of aimless weather, doing and


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Rh any of those vaster and wilder and more ideal attributes with which the human imagination elsewhere has invested him. Müller, in short, was absolutely unphilosophical. His intensely private and practical conception of his relations with the Deity continued the traditions of the most primitive human thought. I cannot resist the temptation of quoting an expression of an even more primitive style of religious thought, which I find in Arber's English Garland, vol. vii. p. 440. Robert Lyde, an English sailor, along with an English boy, being prisoners on a French ship in 1689, set upon the crew, of seven Frenchmen, killed two, made the other five prisoners, and brought home the ship. Lyde thus describes how in this feat he found his God a very present help in time of trouble:—

"With the assistance of God I kept my feet when they three and one more did strive to throw me down. Feeling the Frenchman which hung about my middle hang very heavy, I said to the boy, 'Go round the binnacle, and knock down that man that hangeth on my back.' So the boy did strike him one blow on the head which made him fall. … Then I looked about for a marlin spike or anything else to strike them withal. But seeing nothing, I said, '! what shall I do?' Then casting up my eye upon my left side, and seeing a marlin spike hanging, I jerked my right arm and took hold, and struck the point four times about a quarter of an inch deep into the skull of that man that had hold of my left arm. [One of the Frenchmen then hauled the marlin spike away from him.] But through wonderful providence! it either fell out of his hand, or else he threw it down, and at this time the Almighty  gave me strength enough to take one man in one hand, and throw at the other's head: and looking about again to see anything to strike them withal, but seeing nothing, I said, '! what shall I do now?' And then it pleased to put me in mind of my knife in my pocket. And although two of the men had hold of my right arm, yet Almighty strengthened me so that I put my right hand into my right pocket, drew out the knife and sheath, … put it between my legs and drew it out, and then cut the man's throat with it that had his back to my breast: and he immediately dropt down, and scarce ever stirred after."—I have slightly abridged Lyde's narrative. When we compare a mind like his with such a mind as, for example, Emerson's or Phillips Brooks's, we see the range which the religious consciousness covers.

There is an immense literature relating to answers to petitional prayer. The evangelical journals are filled


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468 but by the Lord's hand. He had an extraordinarily active and successful career, among the fruits of which were the distribution of over two million copies of the Scripture text, in different languages; the equipment of several hundred missionaries; the circulation of more than a hundred and eleven million of scriptural books, pamphlets, and tracts; the building of five large orphanages, and the keeping and educating of thousands of orphans; finally, the establishment of schools in which over a hundred and twenty-one thousand youthful and adult pupils were taught. In the course of this work Mr. Müller received and administered nearly a million and a half of pounds sterling, and traveled over two hundred thousand miles of sea and land. During the sixty-eight years of his ministry, he never owned any property except his clothes and furniture, and cash in hand; and he left, at the age of eighty-six, an estate worth only a hundred and sixty pounds.


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Rh ; the energy which makes the life of each individual spirit. Our spirits are supported by a perpetual indrawal of this energy, and the vigor of that indrawal is perpetually changing, much as the vigor of our absorption of material nutriment changes from hour to hour.

"I call these 'facts' because I think that some scheme of this kind is the only one consistent with our actual evidence; too complex to summarize here. How, then, should we act on these facts? Plainly we must endeavor to draw in as much spiritual life as possible, and we must place our minds in any attitude which experience shows to be favorable to such indrawal. Prayer is the general name for that attitude of open and earnest expectancy. If we then ask to whom to pray, the answer (strangely enough) must be that that does not much matter. The prayer is not indeed a purely subjective thing;—it means a real increase in intensity of absorption of spiritual power or grace;—but we do not know enough of what takes place in the spiritual world to know how the prayer operates;—who is cognizant of it, or through what channel the grace is given. Better let children pray to Christ, who is at any rate the highest individual spirit of whom we have any knowledge. But it would be rash to say that Christ himself hears us; while to say that God hears us is merely to restate the first principle,—that grace flows in from the infinite spiritual world."

Let us reserve the question of the truth or falsehood of the belief that power is absorbed until the next lecture, when our dogmatic conclusions, if we have any, must be reached. Let this lecture still confine itself to the description of phenomena; and as a concrete example of an extreme sort, of the way in which the prayerful life may still be led, let me take a case with which most of you must be acquainted, that of George Müller of Bristol, who died in 1898. Müller's prayers were of the crassest petitional order. Early in life he resolved on taking certain Bible promises in literal sincerity, and on letting himself be fed, not by his own worldly foresight,


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466 to persons of a pious taste, would leave to them but the spectators' part at a play, whereas in experimental religion and the prayerful life, we seem ourselves to be the actors, not in a play, but in a very serious reality.

The genuineness of religion is thus indissolubly bound up with the question whether the prayerful consciousness be or be not deceitful. The conviction that something is genuinely transacted in this consciousness is the very core of living religion. As to what is transacted, great differences of opinion have prevailed. The unseen powers have been supposed, and are yet supposed, to do things which no enlightened man can nowadays believe in. It may well prove that the sphere of influence in prayer is subjective exclusively, and that what is immediately changed is only the mind of the praying person. But however our opinion of prayer's effects may come to be limited by criticism, religion, in the vital sense in which these lectures study it, must stand or fall by the persuasion that effects of some sort genuinely do occur. Through prayer, religion insists, things which cannot be realized in any other manner come about: energy which but for prayer would be bound is by prayer set free and operates in some part, be it objective or subjective, of the world of experienced phenomena or facts.

This postulate is strikingly expressed in a letter written by the late Frederic W. H. Myers to a friend, who allows me to quote from it. It shows how independent the prayer-instinct is of usual doctrinal complications. Mr. Myers writes:—

"I am glad that you have asked me about prayer, because I have rather strong ideas on the subject. First consider what are the facts. There exists around us a spiritual universe, and that universe is in actual relation with the material. From the spiritual universe comes the energy which maintains the