Vol. X.
<No. 10.>

[Unedited]

“For always in thine eyes, O Liberty!

Shines that high light whereby the world is saved;

And though thou slay us, we will trust in thee.”

John Hay.

On Picket Duty.

Bernard Shaw’s “Arms and the Man” is the rare treat which Mr. Mansfield is now affording New York theatre audiences. Go and see sham and humbug mercilessly exposed.

Mona Caird has written a novel, “The Daughters of Danaus,” which is said to be an attack on the modern marriage system. Her “Wing of Azrael” warrants the anticipation of a work of art, while her sound political and ethical doctrines ought to invest the novel with considerable educational value.

That scientific crank, Lombroso, has written another book on Anarchists. A newspaper reviewer states that Lombroso tries to show that Anarchy “is the coherent consequence of what was prepared before.” Everybody will concur, for this is true of about everything under the sky, except, possibly, newspaper opinions made to order. They are too incoherent to be the result of anything. In their case we witness the miracle of something made out of nothing. Confirmed sceptics, however, might question the admission that newspaper opinions are “something.”

The British trades-union congress recently in session at Norwich declared itself in favor of State Socialism pure and simple. The “conservatism” of the British labor unions, which endeared them to the plutocratic press, is a thing of the past. Liberty is satisfied with the result. The sooner labor organizations perceive the inadequacy of their present indefinite programme and choose between State Socialism and Anarchism, the better for all of us. It is better to have consistent and conscious State Socialists as opponents than unconscious and unintelligent State Socialists who are blind to the logic of their own position and incapable of grasping your objections to the foundations of their system.

In the recent trial of the Thirty at Paris there was one phase of the defence that is anything but pleasant to contemplate. The most conspicuous of the defendants, M. Jean Grave, was the editor of “La Révolte,” in which journal, while often reprinting the anti-governmental writings of Proudhon, he rarely missed an opportunity of condemning Proudhon’s belief in private possession of wealth and of expressing his contempt for the bourgeois economics of Proudhon and his disciples. How surprising, then, to find M. Jean Grave, when arraigned in court for his opinions, closing his address to the jury with the words: “My communism is that of Proudhon.” But the motive is apparent. Proudhon, be it known, although his doctrines are but little understood in France, at the present day commands the highest respect of the entire nation as a man and as a writer. Any one who should today suggest that Proudhon was ever a fit subject for imprisonment would be looked upon by all Frenchmen with feelings of repugnance. It was clearly, therefore, to the interest of M. Jean Grave, in this critical moment of his life, to make himself appear to the jury and the world as another Proudhon, and in the effort to do so he cared not that he led the jury and the world to believe that Proudhon, the bitterest enemy that communism has ever known, was instead an advocate of communism. I am not disposed, on account of this, to brand M. Jean Grave as a coward and a rascal. In estimating a man’s character we must weigh the noble with the ignoble, and there is certainly much in the career and character of M. Grave that deserves warm admiration even from those whom he has treated with contempt. I therefore content myself with saying that on this particular occasion M. Jean Grave acted as a coward and a rascal would have acted under the same circumstances.

The Waco, Texas, “Evening News” having been driven into a corner on some political question by the Galveston “News,” it determined to “get even” with the “News,” and startled Texas and the entire country by the following revelation: “We charge,” it said with due solemnity, “that in its editorial columns it has for years advocated the principles of Proudhon, the coiner of the word Anarchy, as applied to the school of agitators who claim that government by man in every form is oppression,’ and that the highest perfection of society is found in the union of order and Anarchy.’ We further charge that an Anarchist of national reputation did for years write articles for the Galveston ‘News’ on economic subjects, which articles have received the editorial endorsement of the Galveston ‘News.’ We have copies of that paper at hand on which we base these charges; but ask access to the files of the Galveston ‘News’ in case they are denied.” The country is wondering what the answer of the Galveston “News” will be. Will it plead guilty? Is it possible that a great paper can be Anarchistic without the fact being known to the thousands of its “intelligent readers,” the hundreds of its exchanges, the politicians who regard it as a powerful organ of the Cleveland Democracy, and last, but by no means least, the New York “Evening Post,” which has been copying into its own columns with evident relish, some of the best and soundest sermons of the Galveston “News,” always speaking of it as a most influential paper whose opinions carry weight? Has the Galveston “News” been cruelly deceiving the innocent Godkin, who has been maintaining that there are no native-born Anarchists in this country? Liberty is estopped from going into the matter more fully, as it expects to be asked to give expert testimony when the case of the “News” comes to trial.

The charges which were made in the “Evening Post” against Prof. Richard T. Ely, and upon which that paper based an accusation of “Anarchism,” did not lead to the arrest and imprisonment of the professor, but they were not without consequences. The board of regents of the university with which he is connected felt called upon to take cognizance of the terrible arraignment of the professor and appointed a committee to try him for economic and sociological heresy. A certain E. O. Wells appeared as prosecutor, and he attempted to show that Ely’s books were Socialistic and revolutionary, and that he sympathized with strikers, boycotters, walking delegates, and other traitors and criminals. The committee has just submitted its report, and Ely is found not guilty and “vindicated.” There is poetic justice in this appearance of Ely, whom Liberty convicted some years ago of falsehood, slander, and mis-representation of Anarchism, in the rôle of a culprit charged with inciting to violence and poisoning the minds of students and readers by his “Anarchistic” assaults upon modern society. More damaging to Ely’s reputation than the charges of his enemies was his own line of defence. He admitted that the charges were “grave,” and denied that he had ever expressed sympathy for strikers or boycotters. That he is neither a State Socialist nor an Anarchist he had no difficulty in proving. No one who has looked into his misty and commonplace productions can suspect him of possessing positive convictions. But the grievance of the plutocrats against him, as charmingly stated in a newspaper editorial, is that he finds too much to criticise in the present order of things and plants doubt in youthful minds. Instead of teaching “fixed” propositions, instead of proving that this is the best of all possible worlds, he dwells on the darker sides of our glorious civilization and everywhere vaguely suggests the need of reform. All this is intolerable, of course; fellows who hint at rottenness and injustice in our order are but little better than bomb-throwers, — in fact, they are responsible for bomb-throwing. To prison with all disturbers and cranks!

“In abolishing rent and interest, the last vestiges of old-time slavery, the Revolution abolishes at one stroke the sword of the executioner, the seal of the magistrate, the club of the policeman, the gunge of the exciseman, the erasing-knife of the department clerk, all those insignia of Politics, which young Liberty grinds beneath her heel.” — Proudhon.


The appearance in the editorial column of articles over other signatures than the editor’s initial indicates that the editor approves their central purpose and general tenor, though he does not hold himself responsible for every phrase or word. But the appearance in other parts of the paper of articles by the same or other writers by no means indicates that he disapproves them in any respect, such disposition of them being governed largely by motives of convenience.

Liberty and Literature.

Thinkers and reformers who ought to know better have hailed with joy the decision of Justice O’Brien, of the New York supreme court, in the application made some time ago by Receiver Little, of the Worthington Publishing Company, for instructions concerning the disposition of certain books which Anthony Comstock sought to suppress as indecent and immoral. The court overruled Censor Comstock in the following very interesting opinion:

After consultation with some of my brethren, we have concluded that the following views should be expressed concerning the merits of this motion: That these books constitute valuable assets of this receiver-ship cannot be doubted, and the question before the court for decision on this motion is whether or not they are of such a character that they should be condemned and their sale prohibited. The books in question are Payne’s edition of “The Arabian Nights,” Fielding’s novel, “Tom Jones”; the works of Rabelais, Ovid’s “Art of Love,” the “Decameron” of Boccaccio, the “Heptameron” of Queen Margaret of Navarre, the “Confessions” of J. J. Rousseau, “Tales from the Arabic,” and “Aladdin.”

Most of the volumes that have been submitted to the inspection of the court are of choice editions, both as to the letter-press and the bindings, and are such, both as to their commercial value and subject matter, as to prevent their being generally sold or purchased, except by those who would desire them for literary merit or for their worth as specimens of fine bookmaking. It is very difficult to see upon what theory these world-renowned classics can be regarded as specimens of that pornographic literature which it is the office of the Society for the Suppression of Vice to suppress; or how they can come under any stronger condemnation than that high standard literature which consists of the works of Shakspere, of Chaucer, of Laurence Sterne, and of other great English writers, without making references to many parts of the Old Testament Scriptures, which are to be found in almost every household in the land. The very artistic character, the high qualities of style, the absence of those glaring and crude pictures, scenes, and descriptions which affect the common and vulgar mind, make a place for books of the character in question entirely apart from such gross and obscene writings as it is the duty of the public authorities to suppress. It would be quite as unjustifiable to condemn the writings of Shakspere and Chaucer and Laurence Sterne, the early English novelists, the playwrights of the Restoration, and the dramatic literature which has so much enriched the English language, as to place an interdict upon these volumes which have received the admiration of literary men for so many years. What has become standard literature of the English language — has been wrought into the very structure of our splendid English literature — is not to be pronounced at this late day unfit for publication or circulation, and stamped with judicial disapprobation as hurtful to the community. The works under consideration are the product of the greatest literary genius.

Payne’s “Arabian Nights” is a wonderful exhibition of Oriental scholarship, and the other volumes have so long held a supreme rank in literature that it would be absurd to call them now foul and unclean. A seeker after the sensual and degrading parts of a narrative may find in all these works, as in those of other great authors, something to satisfy his prudency. But to condemn a standard literary work because of a few of its episodes would compel the exclusion from circulation of a very large proportion of the works of fiction of the most famous writers of the English language. There is no such evil to be feared from the sale of these rare and costly books as the imagination of many even well-disposed people might apprehend. They rank with the higher literature, and would not be bought nor appreciated by the class of people from whom unclean publications ought to be withheld. They are not corrupting in their influence upon the young, for they are not likely to reach them. I am satisfied that it would be a wanton destruction of property to prohibit the sale by the receiver of these works, for if their Dale ought to be prohibited, the Woke should be burned, but I find no reason in law, morals, or expediency why they should not be sold for the benefit of the creditors of the receivership. The receiver is therefore allowed to sell these volumes.

Judge O’Brien is praised as a wise and enlightened judge, and even our friend Tranbel, of the “Conservator,” eulogized him as “most just.” I cannot swell the volume of praise, the decision appearing to me essentially reactionary and dangerous. Doubtless under the language of the statute covering the subject the court was as liberal in construction as it is possible to be without nullifying the intent and purpose of the statute, but to suppose that the decision will encourage literature or promote any progressive tendencies in it is to take an erroneous and superficial view of things. Judge O’Brien is less objectionable as a censor than the vulgar and idiotic Comstock, but the cause of literature and liberty demands freedom from all censorship. To allow anybody to divide literature into classes is to open the door to the gravest abuses and most outrageous discrimination. The rule by which our courts are guided is well stated in the “Evening Post’s” comment upon this Comstock assault upon Fielding and other classical authors: “It is as literature,” says the “Post,” “that all such books should be weighed. If the literary element is by far the predominating one, and the indecency is only an incident, or an expression of the manners of the time of publication, letting Anthony Comstock pass on their merits would make us very ridiculous. His proper field is books in which the pornographic purpose is the main or only one, but he ought to be ashamed to ask any tribunal to suppress a classic. He may depend upon it that works which five or six generations have admired are out of his bailiwick.” Under this rule, the judges are to determine whether the literary or pornographic element predominates in a given work, and whether any alleged indecency is an expression of the manners of the time or a deliberate pandering to depraved taste. Is literature safe under such censorship? Our judges are not distinguished for literary culture and critical acumen, and it is by no means certain that even the classical authors would be uniformly held to be outside the Comstock bailiwick (think of a Maine judge “weighing” books as literature!), but all doubt as to the pernicious and reactionary character of the rule must be dispelled by a reference to the treatment of the great modern master, Zola, by the courts and the followers of Mrs. Grundy. There are few judges in England or America who, even if they had the literary qualifications, would have the courage to protect the right of publishers to put on the market complete, unabridged translations of Zola’s masterpieces. Is there any question that the literary element predominates in Zola’s books, and that their “indecency” is an expression of the manners of the time? The hypocrites and the bigots care nothing about the interests of literature, and judges are apt to give effect (even if they do not share the sentiments) to the notions of the hypocrites and bigots in the community. A judge might shrink from ordering the suppression of a work which “five or six generations have admired,” but experience has taught us to expect very little consideration and appreciation of works admired by the educated and progressive elements of one generation only. And what is the effect of such ignorant treatment of modern writers? Even Mr. Conway, whose libertarianism is far from the unterrified and consistent kind, tells us that “half the poetic genius of our century has been suppressed by legal or social censorship,” and that “perfect intellectual and moral freedom would surely give us Shaksperes and Goethes again.” A rule whose operation kills genius is not one that lovers of literature can rejoice over. Far better the temporary sway of the fool, Comstock, whose very audacity, born as it is of vulgarity and ignorance, would hasten our literary emancipation.

Reformers should demand the utter abolition of Comstockism, not in the name of classical literature, but in the name of liberty, which is higher than any literature. Just as in the administration of justice the powerful can protect themselves and the poorest and meanest citizen’s rights are the ones requiring vigilant defence, so, in literature, the classics will never suffer for lack of friends, while in the so-called indecent and pornographic authors liberty is in danger of being crashed out. It is the extreme cases which need the aid and support of the fearless and logical advocates of fundamental principles. Y.

Will Liberty alone Bring Equality?

It is only about fifteen years since the word Socialism first began to be familiarly heard here in America. Before that it was known as a distant theory of certain impractical Germans, of no immediate interest, scarcely more than a new hypothesis of the origin of star-dust.

Since then Socialism has become quite acclimated. With the word at least we are familiar; it no longer excites fear and hatred; on the contrary, it is quite safe and almost respectable to call one’s-self a Socialist.

Even more astonishing has been the rapid growth of Anarchism, both the name and the thing. Without a founder, for it has half a dozen founders; without a leader, for each is his own leader, the Anarchistic idea, the denial of all authority, has within a short time, — ten years at the most, — grown from a thing unheard of to the most conspicuous and most progressive movement in this Nineteenth-century world of changes, progress, and movements.

By Anarchism I mean, of course, Anarchism of all varieties, including the broad ranks of Anarchistic Communism, and not merely the small group of plumb-liners, which is indeed the only school that can clearly explain what constitutes liberty, but by no means the only one that is filled with the sentiment of liberty and the desire for it.

Why is it that Communistic Anarchism grows apace while Philosophical Anarchism buds so slowly? The reason, it seems to me, at least one reason, is this: that Philosophical Anarchism lays too little stress on the object of liberty, — equality.

Will liberty bring equality? How will liberty bring equality? These are the questions to which Philosophical Anarchism must make clear answers: for without equality, as well as liberty, we feel there can be no fraternity.

It is to achieve this very condition of equality that Communistic Anarchism has thought it necessary to take up with Communism. Let those who believe that liberty is the sufficient solution of all economic problems show that equality will result from liberty, — show it distinctly and unmistakably in language that may be “comprehended of the people,” — and it will not lack for recruits from the very ranks of Communism.

That Proudhon at least regarded equality as correlated with liberty is evident in his writings. “‘Men, equal in the dignity of their persons and equal before the law, should be equal in their conditions.’ Such is the thesis which I maintained. . . . .” So writes he in his “Letter to M. Blanqui,” and throughout those of his books which I have read runs the same strain, — equality, always equality; liberty as a means to equality, but equality as the end.

Why should I give you more than my day’s work will produce of corn in exchange for less than your day’s work will produce of beans? That is the commercial principle which Proudhon promulgates; liberty be inculcates because, according to him, it will lead to this equitable exchange of day’s work’s worth for day’s work’s worth.

But that such a state of affairs will supervene is not evident at first glance. On the contrary, quite the opposite would seem to be evident. Although, with the abolition of rent and interest, the present arrangement by which the idler receives the product of the worker would cease, and inequality in its most marked and offensive form would disappear, would there not always remain a much higher reward for some who, by preeminent talent or by advantage of preoccupied opportunity, would be able to demand and secure it?

Such is the question which is raised in a little pamphlet, “The Impossibility of Anarchism,” by Bernard Shaw, which I have but recently read, although it was published long ago.

It is impossible, is the gist of his argument, that free exchange of products can lead to equality, because by a more favorable situation one man may, with equal labor, produce twice as much as his neighbor who is compelled to put up with a less favorable situation. That is to say, it is on the question of economic rent that Mr. Shaw shies. Strange to say, neither he nor any of the other critics of economic rent that I know of pay much attention to the differences in personal talent and skill which ought also, it would seem, to command corresponding differences in reward. An interesting case I heard of recently of a man who, by a mere bent or fancy which peculiarly adapted him to such work (as one man can rhyme verses almost without thought, while another, perhaps cleverer, cannot in a week hammer out a quatrain) was able to command a wage of ten thousand dollars a year; not much, perhaps, for a leading divine, or doctor, or singer, but for a simple handworker extraordinary. He was a carver of original type, from which the matrices are made for new fonts.

Clearly special taste is required to make such an occupation remunerative. To sit day after day, designing and cutting alphabets with a minute accuracy compared with which a hair’s breadth would be coarseness, is not a job that many men would find attractive, nor that many men could do at all. Surely such a man, even under freedom, would get higher wages than the ordinary.

I do not think so. I have myself a strong conviction that liberty alone would bring equality: that both the rent of ability and the rent of opportunity — the economic rent — would by liberty alone be equally distributed. That Proudhon thought so, he everywhere unmistakably asserts. Liberty, equality, society, justice, all these are synonymous in his position.

Let it be remembered, in the first place, that it is exceedingly difficult, in a lower stage of social development, to picture the precise working of the next higher phase of development. What man in feudal times, who might have been able to foresee the mechanical and commercial progress of today, could have also predicted that, for a time at least, misery and not happiness would come of it; that with the power to produce more in a day than a man then could in a year, men would not be allowed to produce at all, and would pine and starve for want?

Or who could have predicted the fungus-growth of cities and the depopulation of the country, so marked a phenomenon, from a book acquaintance only with the principles of capitalism?

As matters are now, there is no such thing as exchange of services. The only human beings that exist economically, under the present system, are the monopolists, the proprietors, the owners of opportunities. All other men are merely cattle, their labor is bought and sold by the proprietors as any other animal’s labor is bought and sold. There is nothing like even an inequitable exchange of labor for labor, let alone an equitable.

That almost all labor receives much less than its product is well known; it is reasonable then, at first blush, to think it probable that the rewards paid by the proprietors to those whose special skill is indispensable to them, will often exceed their natural product.

Besides this I have not been able to convince myself that excessive wages are often got even by genius under the present system. For the most part I find, upon digging for it, a substratum of monopoly, — a little nest egg of stocks, or bonds or mortgages, on which genius securely builds.

Picture for a moment the society of the future. Monopoly gone, there remains a number of individuals producing what is wanted in such proportion as it is wanted. Any disturbance of the proportion causes a change in the proportional value of some products; yet, although daily and even momentarily fluctuating, the proportion produced of each product tends to a normal level and the value to a normal point.

Men increasing continually in skill, there is continually a surplus of products, which permits some to withdraw from prevailing pursuits and seek out new ones to gratify the new desires which also continually are developed. Thus at a certain point the farmers and herdsmen of an early stage find it to their advantage to use their surplus product to hire a poet, a bard, piper, or minnesinger, just as sailors find it to their actual material, economic advantage to set apart one of their number to sing to them, — the shanty man, as he is called.

But there is no reason why they should pay their singer a better living than they themselves enjoy. Should they do so competitors will arise who will be satisfied with equal wages. No sooner does an Edison appear than a Tesla eclipses him.

When all opportunities are open there will be a chance for everybody who chooses to make ordinary wages; that is to say, his equal share of the general normal product. Besides this, when all opportunities are open, it will be impossible for anybody to make very much in excess of the wage level, for the same reason that, opportunities being open, even genius will feel a competition that it does not now feel, for everybody knows that at present genius must have enough commercial instinct to make terms with monopoly, or it will have no chance at all of being recognized.

Then, as for opportunities, will not the genius of one, you may ask, monopolize some opportunity? No; and for this reason, that even in producing geniuses, nature produces variety. Tesla outshines Edison, but in a different sphere; the opportunity of one is not the opportunity of the other.

But, laying aside geniuses, take ordinary economic transactions; such, for instance, as Mr. Shaw speaks of. A coal mine, producing first quality of coal, of easy access; another, poorer coal with far more difficulty in extraction. How can the workers in these obtain equal products? Will not half the work upon the best coal bring twice the amount of other products in exchange?

Undoubtedly it will, and for that reason wages will be equal in both mines.

Consider. At the present time all sorts of mines are worked; to make a mine workable it is only necessary under capitalism that the owner should relax his demands, that labor should receive a minimum. Anything that is left, if it will pay current interest, or even offer the hope of paying current interest, will authorize the capitalist to work the mine. It is characteristic of monopoly that it forces labor to exert itself on inferior opportunities, while holding the best opportunities out of use. But under liberty such would not be the case. The best coal, the easiest of access, would be used up first, as long as — note this well — as long as there was enough to be obtained to supply the proportion required by society.

If, on the contrary, the vein were very small, sufficient, we will say, for only one man to work there, society would have to resort to more abundant, even if poorer, coal, which would be required in the same proportion as the better quality and would command the same price as that would have commanded if the supply had been greater.

As it is, the scarce and good coal will take its place among luxuries and will be used, like all other luxuries, by all the members of society, in small quantities and for special purposes.

I dwell particularly upon the comparative scarcity and abundance for, if the supply of the better and the worse be at first larger than is required by social needs, the worse will not be worked at all until the better is partly used up. Whether the scarcity be caused by thus using it up or by original rarity in nature, the result will be as I have said.

Putting it in figures, purely arbitrary and impossible, but useful for illustration, let us say that society for general purposes requires 400,000 pounds of ordinary coal daily. To obtain this, one thousand producers extract each 400 pounds. There is also, we will suppose, a small vein of very excellent coal, from which one man extracts 500 pounds daily.

In a state of freedom, 500 pounds of this will exchange for 4,000 pounds of the former, or, comparing both with metal, either will exchange for say 10 pounds of lead or 1 ounce of gold. The value in commodities of one is eight times that of the other. Yet the producer of the costly coal receives only a day’s-work’s worth of wages, the same as the other.

But after all we must admit that, although a general equality will establish itself, many lesser and a few greater inequalities, both of ability and of opportunity, will remain. Does this mean inequality forever established? Not at all; it means equality endowed with wings.

If all farmers had each exactly the same amount and kind of capacity, and all had farms of exactly the same size, with the same proportion of woodland, meadow, and ploughed land, rained upon and shined upon equally, we might indeed establish equality among them, but it would be a stationary equality, — the equality of the ants or of the bees.

Variety of ability joined to variety of opportunity means substantial equality and continual progress.

There will always be some looking for better opportunities, trying to avail themselves better of existing opportunities. For each who succeeds there will be at first some excess of product, which, by cheapening all products, will tend to diffuse its benefit among all the members of the community.

As it is always to the advantage of each to use the best opportunities in the best way, production will organize itself as no governmental agency could organize it: that is what economic rent means. As each one will do by choice what he can do best, each will be fitted spontaneously with the work that is to him a pleasure, better than any authority could fit him with it. John Beverley Robinson.

Holt’s First Convert.

Ambrose Bierce, it is not surprising to learn, sympathizes with Henry Holt, whose ideas regarding the proper punishment of revolutionists (whom he calls Anarchists) were dealt with in the last issue of Liberty. But whether the prophet is glad of this disciple’s support, is at least doubtful. Henry Holt professes to have some regard for “luminous principles,” while Bierce has no use for any principle, tradition, or precedent. He glories in his absolute freedom from the legal and ethical “superstitions” which impede and hamper the rest of civilized humanity. “Free speech!” he cries; “nonsense; there is no reason why those who disagree with me, Ambrose Bierce, should be allowed to express their opinions. I am good, moral, virtuous, and useful, and therefore free speech is my right. But the fellows who talk what I call mischievous nonsense have no right to free speech.” Bierce does not use precisely these phrases, but here is what be does say:

It is with a song in the soul that one observes Congress cast a considering eye in the direction of exclusion and deportation. It really begins to look as if we have about done with the hoary delusion that an enemy of the race is least mischievous when thrusting his blazing tongue into ears of combustible idiots. The infantile notion that if suffered to preach sin a man will contentedly refrain from committing it is apparently doomed to a lessening dominion, and some of us surviving victims of “free speech” may not unreasonably hope to see the day when “a man may speak the thing he will” only if he will speak the thing he may. Whether freedom of speech is or is not a good thing depends on what is going to be said.

Of course, to reason with a swaggering ignoramus, who mistakes epithet-hurling for reasoning and irresponsible assertions born of brutality and fanaticism for philosophy, is futile; but his rant, and the rant of others of his ilk, should be forced upon the attention of all who still cherish the delusion that the tyrannical measures proposed for dealing with revolutionists are conceived in regard for liberty and civilization. The decent men in the community should be confronted with the savagery and ferocity of the Bieroes and bolts whenever they challenge us to state what we think of the “monstrous” doctrines of the propagandists by deed. I think that all fair men who appreciate the motives of the Vaillants and Henrys will at least admit that they are far better and finer men than such law-and-order champions as Bierce. Y.


It is one thing to explain, and to refrain from denouncing as malevolent, those acts of violence which the victims of violence commit; it is quite another thing to covertly encourage such acts by preaching the doctrine of despair of reason and proclaiming that, until the millennium shall have arrived, it will be impossible for any beautiful thing to be born except of force. The contrast between these two things is strikingly exemplified in the excellent editorials on this subject lately contributed to Liberty by Mr. Yarros and the anything but excellent communication from Lizzie M. Holmes which appeared in Liberty of August 11. The articles of Mr. Yarros fix responsibilities mercilessly, but contain nothing to inflame the inflammable and much to dissuade from the policy of violence all persons in the least amenable to reason. The letter of Lizzie M. Holmes, on the other hand, is a veiled glorification of dynamite, and plainly reveals, to those who can read between the lines, one of those persons who, while hesitating to openly rejoice in force through fear of appearing too devilish in the eyes of people more reasonable than themselves, nevertheless spend most of their breath in talk calculated to leave the impression that the age of reason lies in a hopelessly distant future and that on the whole they are damned glad of it. With this self-deceitful and semi-hypocritical attitude Liberty has nothing in common. As Anarchists our sympathies are with the oppressed, and we refuse to characterize their ill-directed efforts to free themselves as having anything deeper than a superficial resemblance to the acts of fiendish criminals; but we unsparingly and unremittingly expose the folly of supposing that social injustice resulting from economic ignorance can be abolished by the bomb, — a folly which Lizzie M. Holmes does not join us in exposing, for the very good reason that she shares it. There is no essential intellectual difference between the actual authorities who think that they can drive an idea out of the human mind by force, and the would-be authorities who think that an idea can be driven into the human mind by force.


A most astonishing letter is that from Mr. Bilgram, which Liberty prints elsewhere. In it he indirectly attempts to meet the criticisms I made upon his defence of legal tender laws and his claim that the government has a right to issue money in competition with private agencies. And what is his argument? Why, he tells us that his “ideal” government is a non-invasive defensive organization, having no other function than the enforcement of equal freedom, and that such a “government’s” laws and undertakings do not render free competition an absurdity! Now this I cheerfully admit, but the government which Mr. Bilgram had in mind when he took the position I criticised was not his ideal government, but the “real” government with which we are all so familiar to-day. When I asserted that legal tender laws were tyrannical and government competition an outrage and a sham, I had reference to the laws and actions of the invasive, compulsory, criminal institution under which we live. When government becomes a voluntary institution, supported by the contributions of its policy-holders, and uses no force against the non-aggressive, its competition will be as legitimate and rightful as that of private individuals. Does Mr. Bilgram wish to be understood as admitting my contention that free competition is an absurdity in any market in which the present or any other invasive government is a competitor? His argument distinctly implies this admission, but it is well to be more explicit. Surely he cannot be guilty of the silliness of maintaining that it is irrational to object to the laws and competition of the existing governments because he hopes that some day, in the remote future, the aggressive features of government will be eliminated.? Mr. Bilgram is right in saying — to come to the minor question of terms — that we use the word government in a sense differing from its popular acceptation, but since Mr. Bilgram is aware of this fact, he cannot complain. We have excellent reasons for insisting, in scientific discussions, upon our strict definition of government, and what the masses do or do not know about government is immaterial. Thinkers do not go to the ignorant for definitions; they provide them, and the ignorant slowly learn to think logically by studying the methods and formulas of the thinkers. But is Mr. Bilgram really under the impression that his use of the term government more nearly agrees with the popularly accepted meaning? If so, he is greatly mistaken. The popular mind does not even dream of a government that is not invasive, that is not supported by compulsory taxation, that confines itself to the enforcement of equal freedom. It would be a far simpler task to convince the average man of the correctness and propriety of the Anarchistic definition of government than to bring him to a realizing sense of Mr. Bilgram’s “ideal” government.


Mr. Bilgram falls into several strange errors in his incidental criticism of the Anarchists’ attitude towards government. Thus he wrongly assumes that Anarchists object to “government” (defined as invasion) because their doctrine “premises a non-invading man.” Anarchism insists that the existence of invasion does not render government indispensable. Government means enforced coöperation, the coercion of the non-invasive, the punishment of legitimate actions. Anarchism means the use of force only against actual invaders and the absolute non-interference with those who do not overstep the bounds of equal freedom. To abolish government means simply and solely to abandon the persecution of the innocent. A society that punishes only aggressors is perfectly Anarchistic, and such a society we contemplate and work for. Mr. Bilgram thinks that Anarchists ignore the legitimate acts of government, and “fails to see that anything can be gained by urging the abolition of that part of the present government which performs a legitimate function.” The Anarchists do not admit that any of the acts of government are legitimate. It is an organization begotten of aggression and maintained by aggression, and the good that it accomplishes is no more legitimate than the good accomplished by an unofficial highwayman. In talking about legitimate acts of government, Mr. Bilgram means no more than that some of the work done by it needs to be done, and would, in its absence, have to be done by some other organization. This is true; so long as men invade, it will be necessary to maintain some defensive or protective organization. But this organization will not destroy more liberty than it saves, and therein will differ from government, which, pretending to resist aggression, is itself the worst aggressor of all. Charity is a good thing, but not the charity of a highwayman, whose only method of acquiring funds is robbery. Protection of liberty is legitimate and desirable, but not the sham protection of an institution which forces everybody to accept its alleged services and causes more mischief than it prevents.


Mr. Ballou’s argument in support of his endorsement of Mr. Bilgram on the point of government “competition” is, if possible, even more astonishing than Mr. Bilgram’s curious defence. He cannot admit, be says, that the very existence of government is a denial of equal liberty, for the reason that men differ as to what government really is. Is Mr. Ballou ignorant of Liberty’s definition and conception of government f Liberty reasons from its own premises, not from those of anybody else. Accepting Liberty’s definition of government, doesn’t Mr. Ballou admit that the existence of government (enforced coöperation) is a denial of equal liberty? Those who think that a voluntary association is a form of government will, logically enough, deny that the very existence of government is inconsistent with equal freedom, but nobody can hesitate to admit that the existence of a compulsory organization which coerces the non-aggressive into coöperation is a denial of equal freedom. Now, to deny such an organization the right to compete is not destructive of equal freedom, which clearly demands its abolition as a condition precedent to the establishment of equitable relations. Liberty does not quarrel with names, but with things. Things, however, must have names, and the confusion in Mr. Ballou’s letter is due to his failure to bear in mind the names and definitions consistently used by Liberty in discussion. The reason why Liberty objects to “government” is precisely because it defines government as an invasive institution doing business on tyrannical and inequitable terms. To apply other people’s definitions to Liberty’s arguments, to accuse it of inconsistency or inaccuracy because its conclusions do not follow from the premises of other people, is absurd in the extreme. Yet this is what Mr. Ballou does in his letter. I am surprised and pained, but I console myself with the reflection that Mr. Ballou will be still more surprised at his performance when he sees it in its true light.


The editor of the “Review of Reviews” and some other fair-minded writers protest against the application of the epithet “Anarchist” (in the sense of revolutionist) to strikers, boycotters, or reformers who denounce existing evils and favor measures not inconsistent with the fundamental principles of ow government and social system. They justly ascribe the indiscriminate use of the epithet to malevolence and hatred of labor. The malevolent plutocratic organs imagine that they can silence all opposition to the brotherhood of thieves and its practices by threatening agitators with the name “Anarchist,” knowing as they do that the average newspaper reader is too ignorant to perceive that bomb-throwing, arson, and other forms of crime have nothing to do with Anarchism. To expose their motives and condemn their vicious doings is proper and commendable, but it is useless to deny the fact that they base their main charges on indisputable truths. Apart from their epithets, it is true that no reformer, however law-abiding and innocent, can escape his share of responsibility for the violent demonstrations of the revolutionists. The scholarly and dry German bimetallist, who traces all modern maladjustments to the gold standard, the Socialist of the chair, who expounds State Socialism in meta-physical jargon; the Christian Socialist, the land-nationalizationist, in short, everybody ho admits that things are rotten and in need of overhauling, is, as the New York “Sun” and “Evening Post” have been asserting, morally responsible for the dynamiteur, who thinks that a little force applied where it will do the most good will prove more efficacious than the methods of his more patient friends. Those who denounce society do afford “a sort of moral justification” to dynamite, and those who quarrel with this premise of the plutocrats are doomed to defeat. The vulnerable point in the plutocratic syllogism is the conclusion, not the premise. Granted that denunciation of evil engenders bomb-throwing: does it follow that the former ought to be suppressed as a means of preventing the latter? The philosophy of liberalism has certainly been at variance with this view; for the evils of liberty it has prescribed greater liberty, and the aggression of private individuals has never been admitted by it to constitute a justification for official tyranny. Let the reformers charged with responsibility for violence and crime say to their accusers: “Yea, our teachings do tend to encourage revolutionary assaults upon modern society, but that is no reason why we should refrain from telling the truth. The remedy lies in the abolition of the evils which we are forced to expose and denounce. It is not our teaching that is the real cause of the violence, it is the evil against which our teaching is directed.”


Nothing can be more absurd and self-contradictory than young Emperor William’s speech on agrarianism to the East Prussian nobles. He told them that he ruled by divine right and that therefore opposition to his schemes by the nobility was monstrous. It so happens that William’s pet scheme, which the nobility of East Prussia have fought, is in the direction of progress and popular rights; he favors a treaty with Russia which gives the country freer trade, while the nobility are as firm in their protectionism as the patrons of our own McKinleys and Reeds. But whether the eccentric William is accidentally right or not, his mediæval contentions have a strange sound in these days. What he seems to have overlooked is that the nobles, like himself, claim to rule over the plebeians by divine right, and that their defeat would speedily bring about the downfall of his own authority. William’s appeal seems to imply further that it is not monstrous for the other classes of the country to resist his divine-right pretensions. What is a divine sanction worth which millions of voters disregard with perfect impunity?


It is reported that the free-silver people of a certain congressional district in Tennessee have decided to apply the boycott to the business of those who support gold-bugs for congress. A Memphis paper is so alarmed at this that it appeals to the boycotters to abandon their plan for the sake of the district, which would be hopelessly discredited by the use of “the vicious foreignism,” which is only “less heinous than Anarchism.” I suppose the district would not be in danger of losing credit if the good Americans confined themselves to the strictly American methods of lynching, fraud, and bribery. But it is gratifying to observe the growing popularity of the boycott among the people. Whatever the ignorant or lying editors might say, the man of common sense cannot believe that it is vicious to prefer passive resistance to direct aggression.

The Bludgeon Policy a Boomerang.

[New York voice.]

The new policy, for which the “Evening Poet” of this city is most to blame, and which may be called the bludgeon policy of repressing not only Socialism, but all free discussion looking to juster relations between labor and capital, would have been very fitting in the sixteenth century, but it will work like a boomerang now.

“The garden of the laws is full of ironical plants, of unexpected Mowers and by no means its slightest charm is this subversion of the natural order, whereby appear at the end of stems and branches fruit just the opposite of that which is promised by the essence of the tree or bush. The apple-tree bears figs, and the cherry-tree medlars: plants yield sweet potatoes, and hollyhocks salsify. It is delicious.” Séverine.

The Beauties of Government.

The readers of Liberty are urgently invited to contribute to this department. It is open to any statement of facts which exhibit the State in any phase of its fourfold capacity of fool, meddler, knave, and tyrant. Either original accounts based upon the writer’s own knowledge, or apparently reliable accounts clipped front recent publications, are welcome.

A Sample of Police Justice.

[New York Tribune.]

Isn’t this a lovely police system under which we are living, here on Manhattan Island? What an intelligent and efficient body of policemen! And the bench which supplements the system, the police courts, what a fine array of judges they present! What dignity they bring to the position! With what wisdom and uprightness do they discharge the judicial functions with which they are invested I What a charming sense of security and protection the contemplation of the whole system, from patrolman to judge, gives to the citizen and taxpayer, as well as to the stranger within our gates! This side of Russia in space and since Dogberry in time, there is nothing that approaches it for upholding individual rights and personal liberty through the instrumentality of a uniformed police force, and for maintaining a high standard of justice through the clear-sighted sagacity and judicial acumen of the occupants of the bench.

Do we appreciate these blessings, we who enjoy them the year round? We fear not. But William Hanna, a citizen in good standing and repute, of Taunton, Mass., undoubtedly does. For, between last Sunday morning and the following Tuesday morning he enjoyed them in a very concrete form; a form which he is not likely soon to forget. Mr. Hanna came to this city on the Fall River steamboat, arriving here Sunday morning. As he was leaving the boat with his overcoat on his arm, he was stopped by a Mr. Wade Chance, so called, who is represented to be a clerk having a residence in this city, though his name does not appear in the directory, and charged with stealing his overcoat Mr. Hanna was at first amused. The overcoat was his own property, as he was able to prove without difficulty, not only by letters in the pocket addressed to himself, but by the trademark, which was that of an American tailor, while the coat which Chance said had been stolen from him was, according to his own statement, the work of an English tailor. Mr. Hanna was accompanied by an officer of one of the Taunton banks, who vouched for his character as an honest man and well-known citizen of Taunton. It does not appear from the published reports of the affair that Chance had any voucher, but stood simply upon his assertion that he was a resident of this city.

Upon the charge made by Chance the efficient policeman on the dock arrested Mr. Hanna, to whom the whole proceeding seemed so grotesque and ridiculous that, in spite of the annoyance, it afforded him amusement. He was taken to the Tombs Police Court, presided over by that eminent jurist, the gifted and sometimes garrulous Grady. Somewhat to his astonishment, the gifted Grady, acting doubtless under one of those sudden impulses under which he frequently sends people to jail on general principles to keep the machinery of justice in working order, ordered that he be held for examination and, in default of $1,000 bail, committed to the Tombs. It was Sunday. He was a stranger in the city, and could not procure bail. So this citizen of Taunton, whose reputable character and standing in his own community might easily have been proven had the gifted Grady had time or inclination, was locked up in the Tombs because an irresponsible person charged him with stealing an overcoat which by indubitable proofs was his own. He remained there all day Sunday and the day following, Monday being a holiday, on which the gifted Grady abjured judicial labors and gave his mind to repose. On Tuesday morning he was brought into court. There, after having leisurely disposed of his docket of drunks and disorderlies, the gifted Grady calmly informed him that Chance, who made no appearance, had withdrawn the charge, and that he was at liberty to go. He went. And as he went, he remarked, with cheerful philosophy, that if ever hereafter, when visiting New York, any portion of his wearing apparel should be claimed by a stranger, he should give it up without any fuss.

Good police system, isn’t it? Intelligent police, aren’t they? Just and upright judge, isn’t he? These are the blessings which we enjoy under Democratic control. Three days in the Tombs for an honest, innocent man! And no remedy. The average citizen, who follows the rule of the gambler in not caring a cent what happens so long as it doesn’t happen to him, reads the story with only a languid interest and possibly a spasm of righteous indignation — and that’s all. The intelligent policemen keep right on, and so do the gifted Gradys.

[And would the blessing of Republican control be superior? Of course, the “Tribune” must make every “story” point a partisan moral, but the worldly newspaper readers know better than to believe that Republican police justices and officers would be more competent and honest. The “Tribune” conveniently forgets the results of the recent investigation of the careers of Republican police commissioners.]

How Cleveland Preserved Order.

[Part of Prose Dispatch in Relation to the Strike Investigation.]

Chief of Police Brennan succeeded Mr. Dunlap. His orders to the Chicago police force were to protect property, disperse mobs, and preserve the peace. This, he claims, they did until July 3, when the troops arrived. Then the city authorities in a measure gave place to the national authorities. Three thousand officers were on duty during the strike.

Chief Brennan testified that the only time he saw a mob it was made up of women and children, with only a few men. He made the statement that the entire police force was kept constantly busy for a week obeying the call of railroad companies. Every such call was promptly responded to.

“The deputy marshals were more in the way than of service,” said Chief Brennan. “The police force frequently had occasion to arrest them for indiscriminate shooting. I have here the record showing that three of the United States deputy marshals were arrested for highway robbery. They are now in the county jail.”

The interesting statement was made that the average arrests in the city are one hundred a day. The average was no higher during the strike than before it.

A Police Justice as a Psychical Expert.

[New York Evening Post.]

Police Justice Bernard F. Martin, who is now sitting at the Tombs, had, or thought he had, a case of mental infirmity to deal with, recently. A neatly dressed Italian woman of refined appearance, who gave her name as Costa Paola, of No. 119 Baxter street, appeared before him to complain of the annoyances and petty persecutions she was subjected to by her neighbors. Justice Martin turned her over to the affidavit clerk and to Mark Monstake, a Greek interpreter, who is awaiting trial for having assaulted an unoffending fellow passenger in a street car. The interpreter began by addressing the strange woman in dialectic Italian, by the personal pronoun “thou,” a familiarity that made the Italian woman gasp with indignant astonishment. She told her story, in the course of which it appeared that she had once been committed to an asylum for mental infirmity, from which, however, she was subsequently discharged. She made no complaint on this score, but incidentally complained of the brutal conduct of the policemen who took her there bound hand and foot, although she had offered no resistance. The interpreter asked her whether she was now in good health, and received the reply that she was, with the exception that her hinge were “wasting away.”

“She is off her nut,” said the interpreter to the clerk, “and I guess we will have to send her to an insane asylum, for she says that somebody is eating out her lungs, and that when she complained they had to bind her hand and foot.”

By this time the police justice, who had just spent three-quarters of an hour in ferreting out all the most trivial details of a Bowery pocket picking case, was ready for the complainant, and having been informed by the interpreter that the complainant was “queer in the head,” he hurriedly asked her a few routine questions, all of which were answered in a perfectly rational manner, and then he said to the interpreter: “Ask her how she is feeling, and whether she would not like to go to an asylum.”

When this had been interpreted to the woman, she answered rather wearily:

“I thought I came to make a complaint to a judge, not to a doctor. I am feeling quite well and do not want to go to a hospital. I am an owner of some property, and must look after that, so that I object very much to being needlessly detained elsewhere.”

“She says,” explained the Greek, “that somebody is eating out her lungs, and that she doesn’t want to go to a hospital, because when she was there they had to bind her hand and foot.”

“I commit her for examination as to her sanity by the Board of Charities and Correction,” said Justice Martin. “Take her away.”

The woman, who did not understand what bad been done, stood irresolutely at the bar. “Take her away,” repeated the justice, impatiently, and the same cry was taken up by several zealous court attendants who, with the help of the Greek, hustled her away from his Honor’s presence.

“Oh, I was so sorry for that poor woman,” said the Greek as he returned, shrugging his shoulders.

“Funny business, ain’t it?” remarked Justice “Barney” Martin to the nearest reporter.

The Law and the Practice of Its Guardians.

[New York World.]

Policeman William F. O’Neil, of the West Twentieth street station, arraigned a prisoner in Jefferson Market court Sunday morning, named William Willison, Jr., whom he had arrested out of his precinct Saturday. Willison lives with his parents at No. 415 West Thirty-third street. He is nineteen years old, and was charged with playing ball in the street. The policeman took his prisoner to the West Thirty-seventh street station, and, when they refused to take him there, to his own station.

Willison’s face was discolored, one eye being nearly closed, and his cheek swollen. He walked with a limp. He had been bailed out Saturday by his mother, an energetic woman, who said she had seen the policeman drunk often. She declared that her family had lived near the policeman for ten years, and that her son had often done errands for O’Neil. Willison said that some boys were playing ball, and as the sphere came past him he threw up his hand and caught it. O’Neil then grabbed him by the collar and started for the station.

Willison said that after he had been put in his cell he had asked O’Neil why he had arrested an old friend for nothing. O’Neil, he said, then jumped on him, knocked him down, and kicked him. The bruises he showed to Justice Hogan. He said that the officer was drunk.

In court O’Neil did not appear to be any too sober, and his thick utterance and way of carrying himself caused comment. O’Neil said he found the young man playing ball and had arrested him. He denied that he had kicked him, and said that the injuries had been received in a fall which Williston got when he attempted to trip him up as they were going into the station-house.

Only Corporations Can Create Noise.

[New York Evening Post.]

At Munich the police have forbidden the playing of pianos with the windows open.

No Chance for the Society Reporters.

[New York Sun.]

Newspapers in Russia were forbidden some time ago to make any reference to the dresses worn by the Empress on State occasions. This was done because one paper by mistake reported her as wearing a dress which at that time was completely out of fashion.

Government Ownership and Strikes.

[New York Sun.]

One hundred and thirty railway employees struck for higher wages on account of the great rise in temperature in the city of Odessa. The Russian railways being controlled by the State, all that was necessary to end the strike was for the city governor to call upon the police and drive the strikers back to work.

Anarchist Letter-Writing Corps.

The Secretary wants every reader of Liberty to send in his name for enrolment. Those who do so thereby pledge themselves to write, when possible, a letter every fortnight, on Anarchism or kindred subjects, to the “target” assigned in Liberty for that fortnight. All, whether members or not, are asked to lose no opportunity of informing the secretary of suitable targets. Address, Stephen T. Byington, East Hardwick, Vt.


I am glad that the membership of the Corps is slowly growing. I only wish it was growing faster. These who are distrustful of their own abilities do not sufficiently realize how the combination of effort through the Corps will enable writers of moderate ability to accomplish what they could not when working alone.

Yet small bits of work commonly have more effect than is expected, even without coöperation. You remember, about the time the A. L. W. C. was started, Mr. Tucker wrote an article describing the effect of a short letter on the difference between Anarchism and dynamite, which he wrote to the “Outlook” There is a sequel. Soon after that, the “Outlook” had to review Funk & Wagnall’s new Standard Dictionary. The reviewer, having without doubt had his attention drawn to the subject by Mr. Tucker’s letter, looked up “Anarchist,” and in his review specially praised the book for distinguishing between militant and peaceful Anarchism. Funk & Wagnalls have made that “Outlook” review one of their leading advertisements, so that now, in all the circulars and periodicals of a very enterprising advertising firm the public has its attention repeatedly called to an article containing a sentence emphasizing the fact that Anarchism does not necessarily mean dynamite, — timely information just now, and a very good return for one short letter. Now, I do not think it took much of Mr. Tucker’s genius to write that letter. There was nothing in It that might not have been written by any reasonably clear headed man, if he had kept his eyes open for opportunities as Mr. Tucker did.

With three sections I shall sometimes be able to use targets more promptly; but there is a great deal of daisy that is inevitable. The Boston “Printer” target, which of course should have been used at once, reached me Aug. 31, and that was too late for the last issue. If I had been present then in Liberty’s office I could have just “made connections,” but not with much margin. Of course, such delays are harmful, but they can’t be helped.

I thank different persons for sending me samples of cheap literature, and hope they will let Liberty’s readers know what they have printed and at what price they will sell copies. Some of It is very good, but I have one complaint to make, — too much technical language. Two of the writers speak of the “non-invasive individual.” Heel sure that the average man will not understand the meaning of the word “invasion” in such a phrase unless he has given the subject so much study as to be past the need of an elementary exposition. Neither will dictionaries make it clear to him. But there is much good to be done by these leaflets and cards, and they ought to be made accessible to every one who will use them.

Target, Section A. — The Boston “Printer.” 15 Spring lane, Boston, Mass., a trade-union paper, asks, in its issue of Aug. 22, “What is Anarchy? Will some of our readers inform us?”

Section B. — The Philadelphia “Press” of July 15 says: “There can be no such thing as compulsory arbitration on the question of wages in a free country. To compel workmen to work for less wages than they are willing to accept is to enslave them. To compel employers to pay more wages than they are willing to or can afford to pay is to confiscate their property and perhaps to bankrupt them.”

Section C. — H. L Wayland, D.D., Philadelphia, Pa., has an article entitled “The Conservative’s Sermon” in the “Sunday School Times” of Aug. 25. He describes conservatism as a “mixture of childishness, timidity, selfishness, and ignorance.” Speaking of the current conservative trick of calling all innovators Anarchists, he says among other things: “If a man expreses some dissatisfaction as to the present arrangements in regard to property by which a dozen men get control of one of the necessaries of life, and pile up the price until they are gorged with plunder, at the same time oppressing those who work for them to the very point of starvation and death, bow easy and how convincing to turn upon the man who is dissatisfied, and to say to him, ‘You are a pessimist, you are a Communist, you are a red Republican, you are an Anarchist,’ — and he has nothing to reply; he is down.” Stephen T. Byington.

“Government” an Ambiguous Term.

To the Editor of Liberty:

In Liberty of August 28 the quasi-endorsement of “government” in several of my essays has been criticised. Permit me to reply.

It is my opinion that Anarchists use this word in a sense differing from the popular acceptation of this term. They are therefore misunderstood by those who do not take account of this fact. But they have no reason to complain, for they commit the same mistake against those who use that term in a sense more nearly agreeing with the popularly accepted meaning.

Were government abolished, it seems natural to me that so long as there are men who, either intentionally or thoughtlessly, infringe the equal freedom of others, those whose freedom is endangered will combine and form an organization which, if strong enough, will prevent invasion, even if the invader should claim that this organization has no jurisdiction over him, he being no member. I speak of what I think will naturally happen, independent of what would be desirable, or moral, or right, or what I or someone else would like to see happen. Now, it is this organization, invested with the function of using rational, though, if necessary, forcible, means for preventing infringements of equal freedom, which is my ideal of a “government.” It is true, the present governments do by no means come up to this ideal. In many respects they do infringe, or assist a class of men to infringe, the equal freedom of the people generally. But while Anarchists take cognizance of nothing but these abuses, the people generally endorse the government because it restrains invaders, and in doing so performs its proper function. Anarchists ignore the legitimate acts of government, the defenders of government have no eyes for its misdeeds.

Since Anarchism premises a non-invading man, Anarchists may find comfort in the admission that an organization invested with the function of preventing all infractions of equal freedom, and deprived of every other power, would naturally die of inaction if mankind would ever attain such a state of perfection that no one would ever elect to trespass the line of equal freedom.

Viewing “government” in this sense, a “law” is nothing more nor less than a mutual agreement. The “legal tender law” would accordingly be the agreement fixing the meaning of the word “dollar,” and the abrogation of this law would be synonymous with the abrogation of the agreement on which contracts of payment expressed in terms of dollars are bared.

Being convinced that “government,” in the sense in which I conceive its ideal, will be necessary so long as infringements of equal freedom are committed, I fail to see that anything can be gained by urging the abolition of that part of the present government which performs a legitimate function. All that can be done is to confine it within those legitimate bounds by correcting the present abuses. Hugo Bilgram.

“Government” and Government.

To the Editor of Liberty:

In a recent issue the editor, commenting on Mr. Bllgram’s “A Study of the Money Question,” and my review of the same, remarks: “Free competition is an absurdity in any market in which government is a competitor.” This is true if government is regarded as simply a competitor. But, strictly speaking, government is never a competitor, but a would-be monopolist. In this respect Mr. Bilgram’s conception of government is faulty, and he is really, in my opinion, less logical than the Collectivist who posits a sovereign authority. I admit the right of government to issue money on condition that the individual enjoy equal liberty. It seems to me as destructive of equal liberty to deny government a right as to deny an individual a right. I cannot admit that “the very existence of government is a denial of equal liberty,” for the reason that men differ as to what government really is A large proportion of our liberal friends with Anarchistic tendencies, as well as of those who unreservedly the name, hold that a voluntary association is nothing more nor less than a form of government. I cannot but sympathize to a certain extent with these, for, although it seems plain to me now, time was when I looked upon it in a different light.

I would not war upon a name. Whatever government may mean, there is no difference of opinion in regard to invasion. Let us draw the line here. Any institution, individual, or combination has a right to do whatsoever it wills; invasion alone may be resisted. If our principles are ever introduced, It must be in competition with government, or perhaps I should say in spite of the governmental restrictions, especially in the issue of money. And, although government has the power of compulsory taxation, it could never successfully prevent the action of the individual it only a sufficient number became interested and determined to succeed. It only requires a few determined souls to demonstrate how Impotent it really I. Our city has on several occasions determined to stop the traffic in intoxicating liquors on Sunday, and I have no doubt that a referendum vote would have sanctioned the law. Yet the saloons, with very little influence to aid them, successfully resisted the invasion. The intricate meshes of the law may be utilized to bewilder and confound the invader as well as the victim. While am in perfect accord with the editor in regard to “the terms on which government does business,” still, when an advocate of government proposes to alter those terms, I am willing to concede the right of his government, thus altered, “to do business.” It is the “terms,” and not the institution, to which I object. A. L. Ballou.

Qualifications of a Leader-Writer.

[Macmilian’s Magazine]

As for the specific mental qualifications of the ideal leader-writer — “there never was a situation,” says Carlyle, “that had not its ideals” — we must admit that they are mainly negative. First and foremost comet the absence of a sense of humor. If the leader-writer perceives how ludicrous is his assumption of omniscience and infallibility, he may be seriously hampered in his work; if he laughs too much while he is patting an aged statesman on the back or taking an archbishop severely to task, he must waste time; if his fancy is outrageously tickled by the contrast between the earnestness of his statements and the inadequacy of his convictions, he may be tempted into dangerous compromise. A man must not let himself be cajoled by his perception of the comic, any more than he must allow himself to be bullied by the vain shows of conscience. And on this latter point one word may be necessary and sufficient Let the leader-writer be as upright and independent as he will In private life, he must remember, if he is to succeed, that Inside the office his business is that of an advocate only; if be remembers this, he will be saved much humiliation. Some people call this want of principle, but that is ridiculous. We prefer to regard it as absence of pedantry, and to set it down as the second great qualification for the ideal leader-writer. He ought to be able to write with equal ability on either side of any subject, remembering always that he is merely there to give the best expression he can to his editor’s policy, which policy is in its turn shaped in accordance with what is believed to be the wish of the bulk of the regular subscribers. Hence the leader-writer endeavors to say what the average reader would say himself if he could; and this is as it should be, as the average reader pays for it. A third qualification, closely akin to the last-named, is freedom from long-sightedness. Some people suffer seriously from this defect in its physical form, and wear retracting glasses Le rectify it. We cannot suggest an analogous remedy to the leader-writer, and we congratulate him who is so constituted for this exalted calling as to be mentally blind to anything that tells against his case and to everything that is too far ahead to interest the readers of today’s paper. Perhaps none of us need despair of reaching this happy state, but it is much when Nature spares a man laborious effort, Let the novice remember that tomorrow and his party’s nearest object should be the extreme limits of his mental horizon.

There needs little warning against depth of thought and the habit of careful literary work; these are to easily and naturally avoided in most instances. Nearly all men are so far fitted to be leader-writers. The impatient and sensitive young man must look sharply after himself in one or two particulars. Complacency, fluency, and the tranquillity which comes from ignoring anything one does not happen to understand, are what he must cultivate. If, by so doing, his writing becomes a trifle fatuous or a little too decorated for refined tastes, that does not greatly matter. The daily paper’s business is to appeal to the million, not to pander to fastidiousness But there is one power he absolutely must have, and here again the young man is generally at an advantage compared with the old, since it depends upon muscle and nerve rather than brain. He must be able to write fast; and the possession of this power will alone go far to the making of the complete leader-writer.

Tolstoi on Patriotism.

A Paris correspondent of the “Nation” reviews a new pamphlet of Tolstol’s, entitled “The Christian Spirit and Patriotism,” which has recently been translated into French. The liberal quotations made by the reviewer indicate that the critical portions of the pamphlet are as refreshing and stimulating as the previous attacks of Tolstoi on the shams, lies, and stupidities of our so-called Christian civilization.

Referring to the Franco-Russian alliance, Tolstoi is quoted as saying:

The Russians and the French have known each other for centuries; sometimes they were on amicable terms, but more often, unfortunately, their governments made them fight against each other. Suddenly happened this odd thing: because, two years ago, a French squadron came to Cronstadt, and its officers, having landed, ate and drank much, saying and hearing meanwhile lying and stupid words; and because, in 1898, a Russian squadron, in its turn, came to Toulon, and its officers, going to Paris, ate and drank much, hearing meanwhile words even more lying and foolish, — for this double reason, this is what happened: not only the persons who had drunk and eaten and made speeches, but even those who had been present at these festivities, nay, all those who had not been present, but who had heard of them and read accounts of them, — millions of Frenchmen and of Russians, — began suddenly to think that they had quite a singular affection for each other, that all the Russians adored all the French, and that all the French adored all the Russians.

The reviewer says:

Tolstoi maintains that the people, the working population in all countries, is absolutely indifferent to political questions, which are the exclusive preoccupation of the governments. He maintains that patriotism Is an artificial sentiment, fostered by these same governments, and which has no real foundation in the human heart, at least today in Europe. Patriotism seems to him the product of education, of literature, of journalism. “What,” he says, “is called patriotism in our time is purely a disposition of mind perpetually kept up among the peoples by schools, religion, the venal press which works for the government; it is also a temporary exaltation which the ruling classes excite by exceptional means in the class of people having the lowest moral and intellectual standard, and which is afterwards represented as the expression of the will of the whole people.” “And what,” be says again, “is this sublime sentiment which you teach the people? It is merely the preference given by each man to his own country compared to all other countries; it is perfectly well expressed in the German song, ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, über Alles.’ You may replace the nuns of Germany with that of any other State, and you will have the complete formula of patriotism.”


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Liberty’s Library

Leonard E. Read: Accent On The Right: To Frederic Bastiat (1801–1850), who sought for truth rather than outcome and never witnessed the fruits his labor bore. Obedience to conscience was his first rule; we witness the results.

Leonard E. Read: Anything That’s Peaceful: Many favor peace but not many favor the things that make for peace. — Thomas à Kempis

Leonard E. Read: Awake for Freedom’s Sake: Finally, share with others. Forget about “reforming” them! The more we share, the more we learn. This is in the interest of self and freedom!

Leonard E. Read: Castles in the Air: If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; there is where they should be. Now put foundations under them. — Henry David Thoreau

Libertarian Anarchy: Against the State: Political philosophy is dominated by a myth, the myth of the necessity of the state. The state is considered necessary for the provision of many things, but primarily for peace and security. In this provocative book, Gerard Casey argues that social order can be spontaneously generated, that such spontaneous order is the norm in human society and that deviations from the ordered norms can be dealt with without recourse to the coercive power of the state.

Major Conservative and Libertarian Thinkers: Murray Rothbard: Murray Rothbard (1926–1995) was an economist, historian, philosopher, and legal theoretician. His work was unified by a passionate and resolute commitment to a libertarianism that may be characterized as ‘anarcho-capitalism’ and which implied a belief that even the legal system may be provided privately without the need for a coercive collective authority. Hence, anarcho-capitalists envisage a society where the traditional role of government is wholly subsumed by private, profit-making enterprises and all social relationships are ultimately founded upon consent.