ral law of sexual selection determines the mating in the one case as truly as in the other, i. e., in the case of concubinage as in that of marriage. The men of the upper class fall in love with the women whom they have elected to become their wives, they fall in love also with the women whom they have elected to become their concubines. They go through all those erotic attentions to the women of each class, which are called courtship in the language of sexual love. Only in the case of the women of the first class this courtship is open, visible to the eye of the upper world of the dominant race, while in the case of the women of the second class it is secret, conducted in a corner of the lower world of the subject race

These men build homes in the upper world where are installed their wives, who beget them children in lawful wedlock; they build likewise homes in the lower world where are installed their concubines, who beget them children in unlawful wedlock. The wives move, have their being in the upper world and sustain to the husbands certain well-defined rights and relations, social and legal. The children of this union sustain to those fathers equally clear and definite rights and relations in the eye of the law, in the eye of society. The law, society, imposes on them, these husbands and fathers, certain well-defined duties and obligations in respect to these children, to these wives, which may not be evaded or violated with impunity. These men cannot therefore disown or desert their wives and children at will. Whereas, such is not the case, the situation, in respect to the unlawful wives hidden away in a corner of the under-world, or of that of the children begotten to those men by these unlawful wives, but quite the contrary. For them the law, society, does not intervene, does not establish any binding relations, any reciprocal rights and duties between those women and children and the men, any more than if the men and the women were living together in a state of nature and having

children born to them in such a state, where the will of the natural man is law, where his sexual passion measures exactly the extent and duration of his duties and obligations in respect to his offspring and the mother of them. When he grows weary of the mother he goes elsewhere, and forgets that he ever had children by her.

to

This is the case, the situation, in the under world of the under race. For down there, there is no law, no public opinion, to curb the gratification of the sexual instinct of the men of the upper world, such as exists and operates so effectively to curb those instincts in that upper world. In the upper world these men may have but one wife each, but in the lower one they may have as many concubines as they like, and a different set of children by each concubine. They may have these women and children in succession, or they may have them at the same time. For there is in that under world no law, no effective power to say those men, to their lust of the flesh: "Thus far and no farther." In the upper world they are members of a civilized society, amenable to its codes of law and morals; in the lower one, they are merely male animals struggling with other male animals for possession of the females. On the dim stage of the under world this is the one part which they play. In this one sensual rôle they make their entrances and exits. They may have in the upper world achieved distinction along other lines of human endeavor, but in the lower one, they achieve the single distinction of being successful male animals in pursuit of the females.

So much for the males of the dominant race. Now for those of the subject race. How do they conduct themselves at this morally chaotic meeting-place of the two races? What effect does this sexual freedom, spawned under such conditions, produce on their life, on their action? Like the men of the upper race, they, too, live in a monogamous country. But unlike their male rivals, these men of the

under world are not free to seek their mates from the women of both races. The law restricts them, public opinion restricts them, the men of the dominant race restrict them in this regard to the women of their own race. Around the women of the dominant race, law, public opinion, the men of that race, have erected a high wall which the men of the other race are forbidden to climb. What do these men see in respect to themselves in view of this triply-built wall? They see that while they share the women of their own race with the men of the other race, that these same men enjoy exclusive possession of their own women, thanks to the high wall, built by law, by public opinion, and the strong arms of these very men. What do the men of the under world? Do they struggle against this sexual supremacy of the men of the upper-world, or do they succumb to circumstances, surrender unconditionally to the high wall? We shall presently see.

This racial inequality generates heat in masculine breasts in the under world. And with this heat there ensues that fermentation of thought and feeling which men call passion. Those submerged men begin to think sullenly on the subject, they try to grasp the equities of the situation. As thought spreads among them, feeling spreads among them also. About their own women they see no fence, about the women of the other race they see that high wall. They cannot think out to any satisfactory conclusion the justice of that arrangement, cannot understand why the women of the upper race should belong exclusively to the men of that race, and why these self-same men should share jointly with the men of the lower race the women of this race.

Against this inequality of conditons a deepening sense of wrong burns hotly within them. Dark questionings assail their rude understandings. Have the men of the upper race their exclusive preserves, then ought not the men of the lower race to have their exclusive preserves also? Is it a crime, has law, public opinion, the men of the upper race made it a crime for men of the lower race to poach on those preserves? Then the law, public opinion, the men of the lower race ought to make it equally a crime for the men of the upper race to poach on the preserves of the other race. But law. public opinion, refuses to make the two acts equal in criminality, and the men of the lower race are powerless to do so without the help of equal laws and a just public sentiment. Baffled of their purpose to establish equality of conditions between them and their rivals, they thereupon watch the ways of these rivals. They see them descending into the lower world in pursuit of the women of that world by means that are crooked and by ways that are dark. A few of the men in that lower world, profiting by this villainous instruction, endeavor to ascend into the upper world by the same crooked means, by the same dark ways. For they affect to believe that what is sauce for one race's goose, is sauce for the other race's gander. Thus it is attempted craftily yet futilely, to strike a sort of primitive balance between the men of the two races in respect to the women of the two races.

race.

Now no such balance can be struck by the unaided acts of the men of the lower Without the coöperation of the women of the upper race these men are helpless to scale the high wall, or to make the slightest breach in it. The law, public opinion, the men of the upper race, render such coöperation very difficult, well-nigh impossible, did there exist any disposition on the part of the women of the upper race to give aid and comfort for such a purpose to the men of the lower race. But as a matter of fact, and speak

ing broadly, there exists no such disposition. The law of sexual selection does not operate under the circumstances to make the men of the lower race attractive to the women of the upper race. It is possible that in a state of nature, and under other circumstances, the case might be different. But under present conditions the sexual gravitation of the women of the upper world toward the men of the lower world may be set down as infinitesimally small, practically nothing. Everything in the state, in society, in deep-rooted racial prejudices, in the vastly inferior social and economic standing of the lower race, and the ineffaceable dishonor which attaches to such unions in the public mind, together with the actual peril to life which attends them, all combine to discourage, to destroy almost entirely any inclination in that direction on the part of the women of the upper race.

Now while this is true, speaking broadly, it is not altogether so. For in scattered individual cases, in spite of the difficulties and dangers, the law of sexual selection has been known to operate between those two worlds. A few women of the upper world, on the right side of the high wall, have been drawn to a few men in the lower world, on the wrong side of that wall. By the connivance, or coöperation of such women the men of their choice have climbed into the upper world, climbed into it over the high wall by means that were secret and ways that were dark. As one swallow does not, however, make summer, neither can these scattered instances, few and far between, be cited to establish any general affinity between the women of the upper race and the men of the lower race. On examination they will be seen to be exceptions, which only prove the rule of a want of sexual affinity between them under existing conditions at least. Practically a well-nigh impassable gulf, to change the figure, separates the men of the lower world from the women of the upper one. The men as a class can

not bridge that gulf, and the women as a class have no desire to do so. This, then, is the actual situation: the men of the upper world enjoy exclusive possession of the women of that world, while the men of the lower world do not enjoy exclusive possession of the women of their world, but share this possession with the men of the upper world,

The effect that is produced in consequence of this state of things on the morals of the men of the lower world, is distinctly and decidedly bad. Such conditions, such a situation, could not possibly produce a different effect so long as human nature is what it is. And the human nature of each race is essentially the same. The morals of the men of the two worlds will be found at any given time to be almost exactly alike in almost every particular. For the morals of the men of the lower world are in truth a close imitation of those of the men of the upper world,-closest not where those morals are at their best, but where they are at their worst. This will be found to be the case every time. So that it happens that where the morals of the men of the upper world are bad, those of the men of the lower world will be not merely bad, but very bad. There follows naturally, inevitably, under these circumstances and in consequence of these conditions, widespread debauchery of the morals of the women of the lower race. And for this there is absolutely no help, no remedy, just so long as the law and public opinion maintain such a demoralizing state of things,

If there exists no affinity between the men of the lower world and the women of the upper world, there does exist then a vital connection between the masculine morals of the two worlds. These morals are in constant interaction, one upon the other. When the moral barometer falls in the upper world, it falls directly in the lower one also. And as the storm of sensuality passes over both worlds simultaneously, its devastating effects will always fall heaviest on the lower one

where the women of that world form the center of its greatest activity. Whatever figure the moral barometer registers in the lower world, it will register a corresponding one in the upper, and this whether the barometer be rising or falling. If the moral movement be downward in the lower world, it will be downward in the upper, and if it be upward in the upper, it will be upward in the lower, and vice versa.

In view of the vital connection then between the morals of the two races the moral regeneration of either must of necessity include both. At one and the same time the work ought to start in each and proceed along parallel lines in both. The starting-point for each is the aboli

tion of the double moral standard, and the substitution in law and in public opinion of a single one, applicable alike to the conduct of both. Otherwise every reformatory movement is from the beginning doomed to failure, to come to naught in the end. For the roots of the moral evil which exists under present conditions and by virtue of them cannot be extirpated without first changing those conditions.

The morals of the two races in default of such change of conditions must sink in consequence from bad to worse. They cannot possibly rise in spite of such conditions. (To be continued.)

ARCHIBALD H. GRIMKE.

Boston, Mass.

EAR Old Walt.! And all I can see is the simple but majestic tomb, the afternoon sunshine touching it with prophetic splendor. On the little knoll the wind in the trees is playing the softest monotone sad, sweet dirge for a departed comrade.

It seems the very birds must know the way to find his place of rest and come back with every returning spring to sing for him. The song-sparrow is trilling its "Bitter Swee-ee-et" in a little clump of bushes by the lake; the cardinal flits back and forth along the hill, and keeps calling, calling. Even a wood pewee, whose song is extremely sweet and plaintive, must have its home near by. But above all other voices floats serenely the leisurely golden lay of the wood-thrush. What a calm that song brings to the waiting, questioning heart. No, the birds have not forgotten!

The slander and abuse that were heaped on him in life cannot reach him here. To me it seems that all the struggles, trials

and hardships of his life have only served to make the trees and grass grow a richer green. Only reverent footsteps fall here now; only the voices of them that wish him well are heard. Pity his enemies, if there are those now living. Hate, malice, envy, scorn,—all were hurled at him from the seats of the mighty; but now it can only sound like a story heard long years before of "Crucify Him, crucify Him!”

Dear Old Walt.! As I turn to go the tears blind me. Have I not seen you and understood? Have I not heard your voice? Even now the wood-thrush is singing and in its evening hymn you speak to me. Blow softly, wind. Tap lightly, rain. Lo! the gods will guard the sanctity of this peaceful spot. And though we would call "Hurry back" to you, your rest must not be disturbed. "Gone,” moan the pines; "Here," calls the thrush. So long, Old Walt., so long!

ROSCOE BRUMBAUGH.

Wilkinsburg, Penna.

HERE was very little chance in the bright autumn days to think of anything but football. You heard it at every turn of the street, ate it down with your breakfast, and the cry: "Rah! rah! rah!" like a sharp bark wakened you six nights out of seven. The usual overstatements of everything concerning football were listened to and approved. Ours was a small college, but in October, we believed, or pretended to, that it was good for any of the "big six." There was never such a captain as Cochran and never such an end as Ketchem!

The college, as was its custom, yelled itself into an hysterical emotionalism that would put to shame an old-time revival meeting. The football-squad was entertained by the faculty and the facultywives, and the young women of the college marked their dance-cards with a red star for every dance they had with a football man. Jean Davenport, who was a freshman, looked on with wondering eyes.

“I would much rather dance with David Abbott than with any of the footballsquad," she said emphatically. She was talking to a Senior Kappa girl, but everyone in the women's parlor turned to listen with ill-concealed disgust at anyone who would express such sentiments.

"Mamie Gilpatrick will squelch her fast enough," one girl said softly to her neighbor. "The very idea of a freshman talking like that! It is n't likely that she 'll ever get a chance to dance with a football-man."

"You have a great deal to learn!" It was the Senior Kappa again, and her tone and manner seemed to say, how small and countrified you are, to be sure. "Abbott is a nice steady grind, but you'll be quite out of things if you take up with men like that!"

"Well," and Jean spoke gaily; it was very evident she had n't taken the manner of Miss Gilpatrick to heart at all; "I never have minded being left out with

good company. But I must finish this French exercise; you'll not mind, Miss Gilpatrick? My French comes the next hour and I'm not quite sure of some of the constructions," and she turned to the table and opened her dictionary.

The Senior Kappa sat biting her lips; she was plainly very much annoyed. To be dismissed by a freshman, and for a lesson, too. The Kappas have a reputation for not caring for lessons. "Plainly Jean Davenport was hardly a suitable person for the Kappa Sorority," she thought as she turned around, casting her keen eyes up and down the room looking out for more promising freshman material.

Jean was n't left out of things. At first, it was her beauty that attracted both the men and women of the college, for she was a feast for the eyes-a slim brown thing, with dusky hair and eyes of true Irish blue and a slender straight neck set well back on rounded shoulders. Once arrested, every one was held and charmed by the girl's personality. The breath of her mountain-home seemed always about her, and even in the crowded collegewalks, she looked a free wild thing, with the joy of the hills in her walk and in the ring of her childish laugh.

Cochran met her first at a moonlight picnic up by the Falls. The Hall girls were entertaining the football-squad with a beefsteak supper. There was very little in the way of a feast, for all the men were under strict training-rules, but the tables looked very fine in the moonlight, with their double rows of candles and their great blue bowls of yellow chrysanthemums. The girls were in soft light dresses and the men wore their white sweaters marked with blue and gold, as a martial hero would wear his most-prized decorations. Chinese boys in white caps and aprons gave the finishing touch to the scene, as they moved slowly about preparing and serving the food.