and five miles from the nearest town and provisions and a great many necessities, one is divided between admiration for their hospitality and distress at all the trouble one is inevitably giving them. And when, as happened in our case, a regular blizzard came up and all the eighty people and ponies and dogs and traps had to stay over twentyfour hours longer than they had been expected to stay, we wondered that the young Englishmen did not rise in a body and politely invite us to go, anyway. But they did nothing of the kind. Their politeness was more than equal to the test, and so they killed another steer and cheerfully continued to help wash innumerable coffee-cups plates and glasses and invented amusing games for us. Of course the majority of the eighty people had to camp near the shacks, as it was impossible to house them all, and it was a most delightful and unique sensation to sit back comfortably in your trap, which had been drawn up to the campingground, and watch a genial young Englishman take out the horses and send them to the stable, while several other equally agreeable young men ran up your bell-tent and arranged your trunks and put up a stove and hung a mirror to the tent-pole and pitchforked sweet, fresh hay into a corner for a bed and spread down the buffalo robes and blankets. And after it was all finished most satisfactorily you were bundled into a trap which had just come tearing down from the shack, driven recklessly by another agreeable young host, and so borne triumphantly up the two hundred yards between the tenting-ground and the dining-shack, as if the distance were too tremendous to be walked. And when you reached there you were ushered into a big room that was filled with long tables and a great many people who seemed to be having a very good time, and more young Englishmen would come around impressively and ask you how you took your coffee or tea and insist on serving you themselves. Sometimes one of them would tell you confidentially that he hoped you would like such and such a dish, because he had made it himself. There was indeed something almost pathetic in the way those big young men thought of the comfort of their guests, and stayed up till all hours of the night and turned out at unearthly hours in the morning, and made the shacks pretty with all sorts of decorations and arranged for the pleasure and convenience of the women, even down to sending hot coffee to the tents while they were dressing in the morning. After luncheon, although it was very cold and a strong wind was blowing, we all went out to the polo-grounds and watched enthusiastic polo-team completely use up another enthusiastic polo-team, and when that had been accomplished satisfactorily we went back to the shack, where dinner was presently served. one That evening there was a dance, and it was as ceremonious and enjoyable a function as if it had taken place in Park Lane. Young men whom you had only seen in "round-up" or polo clothes suddenly appeared in dress-suits and immaculate shirt-fronts, and bore so little resemblance to their former selves that you felt that they ought to be re introduced. And the young married women and girls bloomed forth in lownecked gowns and satin slippers and had their dance-cards, which were most properly got up, and had the familiar silk cord and pencil attachment, rapidly filled by the metamorphosed young gentlemen; and the band, which consisted of a violinist and a sergeantbanjoist from the nearest police detachment, played very good dancemusic indeed, and alternated waltzes and two-steps beautifully. And there was a "sitting-out" room with Chinese lanterns and screens and things, and at twelve o'clock supper was served, and one felt just as one did at home, only with a queer difference. It was all so strange because it was all so familiar, and it would have seemed much more familiar if it had been more strange, which is rather paradoxical, but which every one will easily understand. When you have thoroughly prepared your mind for very different things From The Atlantic Monthly. THE POOR POORER? Among all ne varied causes which are specifically assigned for the unrest of our times, the assertion that the rich are growing richer and the poor poorer has for some reason taken more com from any you have known, by recalling ARE THE RICH GROWING RICHER AND forcibly that there are one hundred thousand square miles of prairie about you and that you are one hundred and seventy miles from the nearest place that can by any stretch of imagination be called a city, and that the Rockies are close upon you to the left, and that this is a young country and a man who has been in it five years is an old settler, one is rather astonished at the well-bred people and at the daily mode of life which one naturally connects with the East and city life, and at the presence of a hundred trifles which one had carefully prepared one's self to do without. a And then at about half past two, when every one was properly tired and sleepy, the dance broke up, and the traps, which always seemed in some mysterious way to be standing around ready at any hour of the day or night, drew up to the door, and while the young women were in the dressingroom putting on their wraps, the young Englishmen and Canadians struck up "God Save the Queen," and sang it at the top of their young lungs and more fervently than I ever heard it sung before. It was very fine sight, I thought-the big-beamed shack, the walls covered with polo and hunting and racing trophies half shining in the faint light from the sputtering candles and lamps burning low in the brackets, and the straight, athletic young figures standing easily about. It seemed to me that the queen would have been a very proud lady indeed if she could have heard that song and known that she had no more patriotic subjects than those careless, happy young ranchers so many thousands of miles away in that lonely land, who did not forget her even in their pleasures, and she would do well to stop going to Balmoral and Florence and the Isle of Wight and come over to Canada instead and hint around until some of those young men invited her to a house-party. I am sure they would treat her nicely and that she would have a most delightful time. From "At the Foot of the Rockies." By Abbe Carter Goodloe. plete possession of the popular mind than any other single one. The doctrine contained in it is a false one, false in its premises and misleading in its influence, for it has so deceived the people during the last few years develop a sharp and a growing antagonism between those who do not prosper to the extent of their ambition and those who have carried wealth far be as yond the reasonable ambition of any man. No one, pessimist or optimist, would for a moment suppose that the chief cause of popular discontent, if there be a paramount one, lies in any lack of the production of useful and necessary things. It may be held, however, that there is an inequality in the distribution of the products of industry, and upon an analysis of the various discussions which have been put forth, it is easily seen that it is this question of distribution which affects the popular mind. It is legitimate. from any point of view, to question the justice of the distribution of wealth But when we reflect that by the use of the telegraph credits can now be placed in any part of the world, and thus affect prices of commodities and of exchange and influence the whole machinery of commerce; that a given quantity of production is secured in much less time to-day than of old; and that transportation has been so perfected as to bring to the doors of the poor man, as well as of the rich, the results of the industry of far-away people, the quarrel over distribution resolves itself simply into an incident of modern development. This development has resulted in the sharp juxtaposition of the very fortunate and the very poor in city life. When the rien man's wealth consisted in lands which were cultivated by his poorer neighbors, the demarcation of conditions was not so sharp, and the sources of unrest had to be sought in other direc tions than those which now come under consideration. The very rich, with their fine mansions, their private cars, and sometimes with their obtrusive and almost impertinent display of wealth, cause the ordinary man o fee! that he has in some way been robbed to make possible the wealth-shows which irritate him. And unfortunately for the truth, this irritation has been intensified by the constant use of this epigrammatic assertion that the rich are growing richer and the poor poorer. We need not attempt to trace its origin; it is a wandering phrase, without paternity or date. De Laveleye, the Belgian economist, attributes it to Gladstone; others credit it to La Salle. Its origin does not matter; its familiarity has given it weight. To very many persons, who consider only one side of a proposition, it expresses the whole truth; to others, who examine superficially ethical and economical questions, it has some truth; to the investigator, who cares only for the truth itself, it is as a whole untrue, while one half is true. To the investigator the real state ment should be, The rich are growing richer, many more people than formerly are growing rich, and the poor are growing better off. It would be wearisome to take up individual industries, callings, and conditions, especially when the results, so far as I know them, would lead to the same conclusion which is reached from the general statements that have been made. The results all show that the base of the pyramid is being contracted; that the number of people in the higher and more skilled walks in life is increasing faster relatively than the population; that the hours of labor of wage-receivers are being shortened; that rates of wages and earnings are constantly increasing, and that the prices of commodities either remain quite stationary or fall. The prices of some things, like rent and meats, have increased in our Eastern States, but clothing and the general articles which enter into family consumption are be ing constantly lowered in price. These things are taught us by statistics. Ob. servation teaches us much more, but since statistics are chiefly useful in verifying observation, they must. be looked to for the most convincing evidence. A generation or more ago men were employed under the so-called iron law of wages. That is, wages were paid on the basis of preserving the efficiency of the working human machine, and they could not, under that so-called law, exceed the needs for the preservation of efficiency. Food, shelter, and clothing in sufficient quantities to keep the man in good working order were considered a fair gauge of the rate of wage which should be paid him. This was Ricardo's announcement of the iron law. To-day the demand of the working man is not alone for the things which shall preserve his working efficiency under such a law. His demand is for something beyond that, and it has beeu met to the extent of a margin of from ten to fifteen per cent. surplus, which surplus goes to the support of his spiritual nature; that is to say, he requires and he demands a wage sufficient to meet not only the conditions under the iron law, but the conditions under the higher spiritual law; one which shall give him amusement, recreation, music, something of art, and the better elements of life itself. He desires to surround himself with comforts, conveniences, and a fair proportion of even the luxuries of life. This is his contention to-day, and every right-minded person must admit that it is a proper contention. He has now secured, as stated, a margin above the iron law sufficient to enable him to gratify his tastes and ambitions to some extent. His demand will grow, and will become more emphatic in these directions. He contends that he has a right to something more than subsistence; that he has been taught to consider himself as one of the social and political elements of the community, and must therefore have some of the things that belong to such conditions. He is educated in the schools; he seeks legislative experience; he takes part in the politics of the scientious engineer accepts without any country, and the whole basis of a democratic government requires that he shall be intelligent enough to take an intelligent part. All this means better conditions, and he is gradually securing them. He is not growing poorer, but better off, as time progresses and he overcomes more and more the exactions of the iron law of wages. economic man of Ricardo is gradually developing into the social man. number of those engaged in the upper grades or callings and the skilled trades is constantly recruited from the lowest ranks. The The fuss or parade responsibilities which a man of any experience realizes only too vividly, but which are so little appreciated by the rest of the world, including generally his own employers, that he is forced to depend entirely on his own sense of duty and his own pride in his work to guard against carelessness or slackness. His situation is often very peculiar. The promoters and financiers who are backing the scheme which engages his attention are almost invariably quite ignorant of the work it is his business to perform; if he is lazy and indisposed to try to better an obvious route by much physical and mental From "Are the Rich Growing Richer and the labor, they will accept his statements Poor Poorer ?" By Carroll D. Wright. The civil engineer seems to me typical of the highest Americanism in many ways. He is forever making the best of newnesses and roughnesses and crudities, while planning something better to take their place; one hour he is occupied with elusive problems of big financiering and indeterminate estimates of probable travel and possible commercial development-the next he may be running a compound curve between two fixed tangents and experiencing an exquisite satisfaction as his vertical hair bisects the rod and his vernier reads ahsolutely true. What would be the ideal line in some cases would be absolutely ruinous in others, and all the minutiæ of location must be considered with an omnipresent realization of what the future possibilities of this particular road may be, as well as what are the financial possibilities of its promoters. The cheapest line in some regions would be dear indeed, whereas in unsettled and barren districts the first cost must usally be minimized. There cannot be many professions which combine such large and comprehensive views with such infinitesimal niceties of detail. Moreover-and this is perhaps the most important point of all-the con unquestioningly, and no one but himself will ever be the wiser; moreover, he starts out with the knowledge that there is one perfect route, to which he cannot hope to attain, his utmost efforts serving merely to make the approximation a trifle closer; and, finally, even when the road is finished no one can put his hand on any particular spot, or even section, and declare authoritatively that there the engineer in charge made a mistake. Other men may think so, and even say so, but at worst the culprit has but to make a stout plea of "differences in expert opinion," adding that his knowledge of possibilities was necessarily more complete than any outsider's, or to dismiss the whole matter as an instance of "professional jealousy." These two shibboleths have carried, and will still carry, many incompetent through a tight place. Should the line be unsuccessful, the responsibility can easily be shifted to the management; should there be a terrible accident, the chances are ten to one that his fault will be obscured or concealed altogether-in a word, the civil engineer is a law unto himself, and only those who have experienced it know what that means. Any man who can in the face of such odds go quietly on, giving that unappreciated extra care and exertion, that "utmost" of himself whose existence only himself suspects, for the mere sake of the thing, must needs develop a sturdy self-reliance of many sorts. "Fame" is the best of pacemakers and policemen combined, and if an fame be indeed "the space one occupies in the biographical dictionaries," the civil engineer gets even less in proportion to his work than the average toiler, for the most remarkable part of his exploits never gets into print. But always keeping this in mind, let us not fall into the common error of adopting a converse. A tremendous amount of the best work is done by unknown men-but it by no means follows that those who have achieved eminence are incapable. In general the man with a name has had not only the capacities of his less "successful" competitor, but something in addition. Misfit reputations are common, but by no means the rule; and they are more apt to be too small than too large for the wearer. From "Lewis Muhlenburg Haupt." By Henry From The Forum. THE HISTORICAL NOVEL. The fact is that no man can step off his own shadow. By no effort of the will can he thrust himself backward into the past and shed his share of the accumulations of the ages, of all the myriad accretions of thought and sentiment and knowledge, stored up in the centuries that lie between him and the time he is trying to treat. Of necessity he puts into his picture of days gone by more or less of the days in which he is living. Shakespeare frankly accepted the situation: Scott attempted the impossible. ficial tales we can measure when we recall the contempt in which we Americans hold the efforts made by one and another of the British novelists to lay the scene of a story here in the United States. Dickens and Trollope and Reade were men of varied gifts, keen observers all of them; but how lamentable the spectacle when they endeavored to portray an American! Probably most American endeavors to portray an Englishman are quite as foolish in the eyes of the British. Dickens twice chose to compete with the carpet-bag novelists; and if we Americans are unwilling to see a correct picture of our life in "Martin Chuzzlewit," we may be sure that the French are as unwilling to acknowledge the "Tale of Two Cities" as an accurate portrayal of the most dramatic epoch in their history. There are those who think it was a piece of impertinence for a Londoner like Dickens to suppose that he could escape the inexorable limitations of his birth and education and hope to see Americans or Frenchmen as they really are; far finer artists than Dickens have failed in this-artists of a far more exquisite touch. The masterpieces of the great painters instantly declare the race to which the limner himself belonged. Rubens and Velasquez and Titian travelled and saw the world; they have left us portraits of men of many nationalities; and yet every man and woman Rubens painted seems to us Dutch, every man and woman Velasquez painted seems to us Spanish, and every man and woman Titian painted seems to us Italian. In short, a man can no more escape from his race than he can escape from his century; it is the misfortune of the historical novelist that he must try to do both. From "The Historical Novel." By Prof. Brander Not only is it impossible for a man to get away from his own country, but it is equally impossible for him to get away from his own nationality. Has any author ever been able to create a character of a different stock from his own? Certainly all the greatest figures of fiction are compatriots of their authors. We have had many carpetbag novelists of late-men, and women who go forth gayly and study a foreign THE UNITED STATES AT THE EXPOSI country from the platform of a parlorcar-and some of these are able to spin yarns which hold the attention of listening thousands. What the people of the foreign countries think of these super From Lippincott's Magazine. TION OF 1900. Though the French invitation to Paris in 1900 reached our State Department, as it did European governments, at the beginning of the autumn of 1895, and |