be held to have voluntarily resigned his signs of a great awakening in Russia. membership." It may take long to reap the full fruits of this experiment. It is an indication of the scheme of universal education which is part of the programme of the most enlightened leaders of the Russian people. There are abundant With all that is discouraging in present conditions and limitations, nothing impressed me more or kindled greater hope than the spectacle of noble men and women giving themselves with absolute devotion to the physical, intellectual, and moral development of their people. THE GENTLE ART OF DISFIGURING OLD CHURCHES T BY J. CLEVELAND CADY HE great farm wagon was filled with a merry party starting out on a beautiful autumn day for a long ride, with the promise of attractive glimpses of an unfamiliar portion of the country, and, as a climax, a visit to probably the oldest church in the Northern States. This region would at any time have been replete with picturesque and his toric interest, but in the season of goldenrod and aster, of scarlet vine and flaming tree, its beauty was wonderful. For some time as we drove through the Clearwater Valley our road had been by the side of a tortuous stream with its transparent pools and little rapids, now and again crossing over old-fashioned bridges, heavy with much timber-work well boxed in for preservation. Gradually it ascended to quite an elevation, which for some time had stood out against the blue sky, whose most striking feature was a white spire rising effectively above the trees and near-by houses. This, then, was the very ancient church that some of us had looked forward to seeing; and, fortunately for our leisurely enjoyment of it, we saw not far distant most capacious horse-sheds where we could leave the team without anxiety, and afterwards, resuming our seats, eat our lunch in quietness and freedom from observation. An unfastened door at the rear of the church gave entrance to what proved to be indeed an ancient building of the Dutch Renaissance type, but so much disfigured by spasmodic and vulgar attempts to modernize it that its charm was gone. Its most unpleasant feature was a parti-colored pulpit of ash and black walnut, with coarse moldings and jigsaw" ornamentation, which clearly had no relationship to the interesting details of the building-where they had not been tampered with-nor indeed had the shiny rosewood communion table with its white marble top which stood just below it. The effect of the interior, on the whole, was very depressing, and we were glad to return to the spacious sheds, where, mounting into the wagon, lunch was eagerly enjoyed. Suddenly one of the party noticed a structure of interest stowed away among the roof timbers over our heads. On examination it proved to be a pulpit, and the one which doubtless had been placed in the church at the time it was built; still further examination showed it to be of unusual grace of form and lovely in detail. It was evidently the work of skillful designers and craftsmen in the Old World, or a repetition by some of their successors who had migrated to the New. It consisted of a central portion, with two wings curved in plan, retreating on each side. The pleasing outlines, dainty moldings, and skillful carvings were delightful in their refined beauty, and filled with pangs of envy the souls of those who were connoisseurs of choice antiques. The whole had once been painted an ivory tone, conforming to the church in its original finish. We were conjecturing why this beauti ful object should be reposing there in dust and cobwebs rather than serving in the church it must once have so greatly adorned, when one of the dwellers of Clearwater appeared on the scene, doubtless attracted by the sight of strangers engaged in the interesting process of mastication, and incidentally refreshment. Curiosity, however, was not confined to the newcomer, and eager questions regarding the pulpit came to him from all sides. Oh, you see a few years ago we thought the old church was getting kinder behind the times-it was built so far back that there ain't nobody that knows much about it. The old ones say that Washington attended it a good deal one winter when his troops were in this part of the State, and that the famous ministers of those days (and even the great Whitefield before those days) preached from the old pulpit. Nevertheless, our people began to see that the church was decidedly a back number, and that it was up to us to make it more up-to-date. "The old pulpit was so outlandish that we all felt that it ought to go first, so the women got up a fair and raised money for the handsome modern one we have now. Have you seen it? You ought to go in and look at it—it's a gem, and so modern! We're real proud of it. "The old one? Yes, that is the old antediluvian up there in the top of the shed; we put it there to get it out of the way. have been smarting up, too; there was an old tavern there where some of the big French generals spent a winter when they were helping Washington in the war, a queer old building with cells for prisoners in the basement, and a secret passage, and secret rooms with doors no one would suspect-the queerest place! Well, they have got rid of that excrescence, and have an up-to-date little roadhouse,built partly of the new cement blocks which you can put on just like shingles and they look just like stone-it's fine— but I think, after all, our town has shown the highest tone by tackling the church first of anything." The ill treatment of ancient churches is by no means confined to such rural communities too unintelligent to appreciate the good, and easily drawn to that which is evil; but in some of the foremost towns and cities desecrations have taken place quite as striking as that of the Clearwater church. In one of our New England cities noted for its eminent scholars and general cultivation there stands in the center of the town one of the finest of the Colonial "meeting-houses." Tradition says that its admirably proportioned steeple was designed by Sir Christopher Wren. The interior, with its great columns supporting a barrel ceiling finely paneled and ornamented in relief, as well as the refined and scholarly detail everywhere prevailing, must have been in the past extremely impressive, inspiring feelings of respect for the worthies of other days who served their times so well in the erection of this dignified and harmonious building. "A great change? Yes, it is; sure, the world moves, and the people of Clearwater are bound not to be far behind the times; it's a live community, this. Why, not long ago our Endeavor Band raised money and bought some transparent paper imitating stained glass and put it on the old window-panes, and it seems just like the real thing-don't it, now? You used to look through them and see only the blue sky, and apple boughs, and restless birds making their nests, but now it's like looking at the windows of Statbug Cathedral-so the knowing ones say. Yes, we've got to be up to date if we are going to keep up with the procession. "At Rankfield, down the valley, they estate is surprising and exasperating. But, alas within a few years, with the idea perhaps of improving the old building "and making it more up-to-date,” the decorator has been put to work, and, among other things, the window openings throughout have been filled with "memorial glass," intense in color and insistent in character-windows which might possibly be tolerable in a Gothic or Romanesque church, but are ruinous to the sweet, quiet dignity, low tones, and classic feeling of this old Colonial building. The transformation-to one who remembers the church in its former It is as though a venerated and respected citizen had strangely fallen into a state of intoxication, the incongruity and degradation of which were in shocking contrast with his previous character. This instance is rendered more singular and striking by the fact that the women belonging to the patriotic societies of the place have within recent years, at a large expense, carefully restored and enlarged the fine old churchyard with its monuments belonging to the property, and are evidently alive to the value of historic associations. In another city famous for its connection with Revolutionary events, and in whose streets a famous battle was fought, the church, on a commanding site, is the only important object now left as a memorial of those times; and a worthy monument it is, with its dignified exterior, and its interior possessing a peculiarly vaulted ceiling after the manner of some of Wren's London churches, graceful and interesting, the whole abounding with choice and charming detail. It has been too attractive a target, however, for the spirit of vulgar display to miss, and an enormous memorial window has been placed back of the pulpit, loud and inharmonious in color, frivolous in design, and completely out of scale. and in conflict with the refined and restful feeling of the admirable old church. We can imagine that it was with feelings of disgust and possibly indignation that the poet once wrote, "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." And yet that prophetic writer had never witnessed the flagrant folly of those who debase fine old buildings, pervaded with the sentiment and art of their time. Evidently there is the greatest need that necessary or desirable changes in them should be controlled by those who fully understand and appreciate their character, and will jealously guard them from anything that will conflict with the delicate and well-studied refinement that is a great source of their beauty. deserving most respectful treatment, we turn to many old-time structures that are not so admirable, but which, from necessary economy or valued associations, have to be retained as part of an enlargement, or may be of a group. Sometimes it is a plain building of stone allied, it may be, to the Gothic, or perhaps to some simple phase of the Renaissance. It is unmistakably a veteran, and for years has been the gathering-place of Christian people. and its spire, constantly in view, a standard-bearer of the faith. In adding to it shall the veteran be ignored or effaced, and the new portions be erected without regard to it-the whole when completed calling attention loudly to the smartness of the new and the simplicity of the old? Would it not be wiser in many cases to take the spirit of the part to be retained as a keynote for the additions, not, however, repeating unworthy features or treatment, but following the general lines and character of the old, keeping the whole structure in harmony, and giving it the stamp of that which is endeared by associations and honorable history? In some cases such a keynote will make the problem of design more interesting, giving an added element for study that will require thought and judgment, while the result, if successful, will have an especial interest that may not inhere in an ordinary conventional design. An intelligent conservatism that understands and appreciates the more worthy of our older buildings and values their associations is greatly needed, lest they be swept from the face of the earth, or so vulgarized-if they be retained-as to fail to elicit the interest and regard of future generations and become an undeserved discredit to the worthies of olden times as well as an offense to all rightthinking people. Moreover, many of these buildings are silent but effective teachers of valuable lessons, especially that of restraint-a quality greatly needed in these days when showiness and an abundance of "things" From these buildings, so interesting and are so often the main object sought. W BY LILLIAN W. BETTS HAT is done for those children of wage-earning mothers who are between the ages of six and fourteen except to compel them to go to school and to punish mother and children for non-attendance? Think of the great army of mothers of children of school age, and younger, who must leave their homes and sleeping children every morning! Washerwomen, scrub-women, factory-workers, office-cleaners, women in stores, and waitresses; thousands of them must work all day in ignorance of what their children are doing. They have left a breakfast prepared; they have arranged, perhaps, with a neighbor to have the children called in time for school. The mother's mind follows these children all day. When school closes, what are they doing? Where have they gone? With whom? Are they near home? Have they been hurt? Every age brings its own danger to the tenement-house child, and the tenement-house mother knows it, and works fully conscious of what may come to her children in their freedom. Recently a young mother, forced by the death of her husband to support her two children, one of kindergarten age, secured work that gave her the morning hours till 10:30. She considered herself fortunate. She could give her children their breakfast, send them to school in time, and, by getting up early, do her housework before she started for work. "Yes, I'm fortunate," she commented. Clinching her hands around her knees, she looked into the writer's face with eyes burning with horror. "Until twelve o'clock I know the boy is safe; after that, what? Why, he's only a baby. He is all alone until the girl, seven years old, comes home from school. Yes, I leave food on the table for a lunch, and she is a wise little thing. Thousands of children of her age are never without the care of a nurse. But my girlie is here in these halls, on the street, alone. Pretty, so pretty that peo ple speak to her. until I turn that corner at nine, and see a light in the window, until I look into their faces and see the innocence of childhood still there, I live in hell." From twelve o'clock That mother is only one of thousands. They are found in every community, through their labor easing the life of more fortunate women. A big coarse woman, dense, dead even, to every finer emotion, alsolutely ignorant of any housekeeping knowledge except of laundry work-a knowledge too rarely used for her own family-worked for the writer. She came late one morning, giving every evidence of a sleepless night and great anxiety. A few questions brought an avalanche of words and a torrent of tears. She had two daughters, one nine and one twelve. She lived in a large tenement occupied by families for the most part more familiar with the taste of beer than water. She had threatened her children with almost death by violence if they went into the corner saloon for beer. By this prohibition she had made enemies, she claimed, who traduced her children. When she reached her home the night before, she had been told that a group of boys, notorious even in that neighborhood, had spent the afternoon in her rooms with her daughters, carrying in beer. The gang left when the hour for the woman's return came. No woman in the house attempted to reach the mother or attempted to appeal to the authorities. Why? Because of a fear of the " gang." The "gang" is a power in every neighborhood. They can wreak their vengeance where it causes the greatest sufferingon the children. If arrested for any but serious crimes, they are too frequently dismissed without even a reprimand by the magistrate; or on suspended sentence, which is too often a farce. Politicians often use their influence to defeat the ends of justice; so the members of the gang are well protected, even without the protection of parental fears of their vengeance. If those two girls had been nine and twelve months old, they might have been taken to a day nurserythough there is none within an hour's walk of their home-but at nine and twelve years, before and after school hours, there were only the unprotected home and the street. Not even a playground with its attendant-a protection at least until six o'clock. The day is coming when the American people will learn that it is safer to neglect children under three years of age than over three. After that age street freedom and education bring results, not only for the child, but for the community, that demand the heaviest payments. Watch the children brought to the children's courts. Two-thirds of them are the children of wage-earning mothers. Their first step in wrong-doing is playing truant. They dread the penalty of being late at school. They mean to go to the afternoon school session, but forget. There is no mother at home to compel them, no mother at home to remind them. They are truants. This is usually the beginning of the case for the children's court. There is a wonderful non-sectarian institution in New York, disgracefully housed by the city, to which boys are committed whose crimes often are State's prison offenses, but whose age prohibits their being sent to prison; boys guilty of petty crimes are committed to this institution because it offers the best medium of redemption for those particular boys. There are boys there who have no recollection of a home-waifs always. There are institutional boys who at fourteen were dismissed in the control of some one who shortly sent them into the world alone, or from whom they ran away. For the most part, the rest are the sons of wage-earning mothers, compelled to leave them to their own devices for the working, which often mean more hours than the waking, hours of the day. A very small percentage of these boys came from homes having fathers and mothers. Nearly all who had ever known the poorest kind of a home admit that truancy was their first transgression against the law. We make laws which say that children shall not go to work until they have passed a certain age; that even then they shall not go to work until they have accomplished a certain amount of school work. That the child of school age must lose days and weeks of its school life caring for a baby because there is no day nursery within reach of the wage-earning mother; that the child must care for a sick mother; that it is kept from school to do the housework because a crisis, such as a father sick, out of work, or in prison, compels the mother to work for money-all this is not legally an excuse. Who pays for the advancement of the civilization this child labor law represents? The child and its mother. If the child has not covered the required school work, then it is subject to the child labor law until sixteen, when it may go to work if it cannot read. The law is as it should be; but what of the community glorying in the advanced civilization its conscience demanded, blind to the needs that advance creates, to the burdens that advance imposes on those least able to understand it, or meet it without suffering, and often danger? What has been done to make possible a legitimate school life to the child protected from too early wage-earning? How is the child who becomes a wageearner by proxy, because it takes the mother's place in caring for the children too young to be left alone, helped to meet the future the law compels? child must meet the educational requirements of the law at fourteen or not become a wage-earner until sixteen. Shame often keeps children out of the classroom because they are too large and too old for the grade. The How many more day nurseries have been established in the States where the educational requirements for wage-earning at fourteen have been advanced? How many day nurseries have received money to enable them to establish classes to help recover the lost school time, to train the older children to meet skillfully the demands of the home, thus relieving them of the burden and extravagance of their ignorance? How much is being done for the boys and girls who cannot at fourteen accomplish the required. school work, who are hopelessly behind? |