GOD AND THE STATE.

Preo<

EXTRACTS FROM UNEDITED MANUSCRIPTS OF MICHAEL BAKUNIN. (TRANSLATED FOR “LIBERTY BY “NY )

(Continued from No. 7 J

Revolt against the State is much easier because there 18 something in the very nature of the State which provokes revolt. The State is authority, force ; ostentatious and infatuated force. The State does not ingratiate--does not try to convert ; or, whenever it attempts to do so, does it with the worst possible grace ; for it 1s not its nature to persuade, but to impose itself on men, and coerce them. However it may try to disguise its own character as the legal violater of human will, and the permanent negation of human freedom, yet even when commanding what is good it spoils it, precisely because commanding it. For every command provokes and incites to legitimate revolt for free- dom; besides which, the moment it is commanded, good becomes evil from the standpoint of true morality—that is, of the morality which is not divine, but is based upon respect for human nature and its freedom. Freedom, morality, and the digmty of man consist pre- cisely in this, that a man acts rightly, not because he is ordered to do so, but because he understands, wills, and prefers right conduct.

Society, on the other hand, does not impose itself formally, officially, authoritatively ; but naturally. And for this very reason its influence on the individual is incomparably stronger than that of the State. It creates and forms all individuals born and developed in its bosom. It inoculates them slowly, from the day of their birth to their death, with its own physical, intellectual, and moral character. It becomes, so to speak, individualised in each of them.

The human individual is no universal and abstract being. On the contrary, from the moment he begins to develop in his mother’s womb, he is already determined and particularised by countless causes and influences, physica', geographical, climatic, ethnographical, hygienic, and consequently also economic influences, which together constitute the character peculiar to his family, class, nation, and race. And since the inclinations and faculties of men depend ou the sum of all these exterior or physical influences, it follows that everybody is born witha materially determined individual character. Owing, moreover, to the relatively superior organization of the human brain, every man when he is born is possessed in varying degrees—not, of innate ideas and sentiments as the idealists pretend; but of the material and formal ability to feel, to think, to speak, and to will. He possesses merely the faculty for forming and developing ideas, without any actual con- tent whatever. What first gives him this content? Scciety.

We need not here examine how the first nofions and ideas in primi. tive society were formed ; for the most part they were naturally very absurd. All that we can say with fall certainty is that they were not at first severally and spontaneously created by the miraculously illuminated spirit of inspired individuals, but. by the collective and generally imperceptible work of the spirit of all individuals who formed part of these socteties ; of which spirit the remarkable individuals— the men of genius—could never do more than give the fittest and most forcible expression. Men of genius have ever, like Voltaire, * picked up their good things wherever they found them.” Thus the collective intellectual labour of primitive societies created the first ideas. ‘These ideas were at the outset nothing but simple, and obviously very tm. perfect statements of natural and social facts, together with still less accurate conclusions drawn from these facts. This was the begining of all human perceptions, imaginations, and thoughts. The content of these thoughts, far from having been created by a spontaneous act of the human spirit, was first given by the real world, external to man, as well as the world within him. The spuit of man— that is, the organic and entirely material activity and the way in which he per forms the function of his brain, as bronght about by the external and internal impressions transmitted to it through the nerves -ouly adds the formal work of comparing and combining these ipressions of things into systems, which may be might or wrong. Ta this way ideas first origimated. By the use of Janguace these first ideas, or rather suppositions, were determined and fixed, through beimey transnatted from one human being to another ; thas the individual suppositions of each person were met, controlled, moditied, and completed by those of other Persons , they ended by forming the common cousciousness, the collective thought of society. These thoughts, transmitted by tradition from veneration to generation, and always more or less developed hy the mtellectual labor of centuries, constitute the intellectual and moral patrimony of a society, a class, a nation

Bach new veneration finds from the cradle a whole world of ideas, suppositions, and sentiments whieh at decepts as the heritage of past centuries, under its ideal aspect as a system of netious and ideas, @ doctrine: a child would not be able to apprehend and understand at under this form; but itis imposed asa world of facts cmbodied and realised ta all persons and thites arotid too and whieh he sees from the first day of his lite. thang but the produets of realities, natural and socal, an the sense of

and bemy more or less consolidated into one system

This world of ideas is not presented to the new-born infant asa religion,

Por hamiein ideas, having beer erieinally me-

bem the retlex or echo of sneh realities tn the human lram, tovether with ther ideal and more or less diserimiminate reproduetion by this

tbsolutely materi orean of Taman thoucht, these ideas and netions,

(August, T89d.

having become well established inthe way described in the colle conscience of society, later acquire in their turn the power to causes, producing new facts, not merely natural bot social

by slowly modifying and transforming the existenc e, adie tutions, in short all the social relations of men; and being in the most usual matters of everyday life, they become perceptible palpable, for everybody, even for children. In this way each new gen, eration is penetrated by them from infaney ; and having grown hoa ave When the proper work of its own thought begins, accompanied of course by the application of fresh criticism, it finds within. itself rui in surrounding society, a whole world of established ideas and notions which are its starting point, furmishing in some way the raw material for its own intellectual and moral work. To this world “Gt ideas belong those traditional and general forms of thought which metaphysicians, deceived by the insensible and imperceptible way in which they enter and are impressed on the brains of children from without, even before self-consciousness —beyins,— erroneously cal] “annate ideas.”

Of this kind are the general abstract ideas of deity and the soul: ideas in themselves altogether absurd, but which inevitably and deter. minately arose during the historic development of the human mind The human spirit, arriving only slowly and after the lapse of many cen. turies at a rational and critical understanding of itself and its own proper manifestations, always starts from the absurd to arrive at the truth, and from slavery to conquer freedom, These ideas (of deity and the soul) have been sanctioned by universal ignorance, and by the stupidity of ages, as well as by the well considered interests cf tho privileged classes, to such a degree that even to-day it is impos. sible to speak in open and popular language against them without wlienating a considerable part of the people, and risking being stoned by bourgeois hypocrisy.

Besides these quite abstract ideas, and always in close connection with them, the adult meets in society, and also within himself, and owing to the all-powerful influence of society on his own childbood, a number of otber notions and ideas of afar more determined kind, touch- ing more closely on real life and his own daily experience. Such notions are those on nature and man, on justice, the duties and rights: of individuals and classes, on social conventions, on the family, property, and the State, besides many other notions on the relations existing between meu. All these ideas which a child finds embodied in things and in men and which are impressed cn its own mind by education and instruction before he bas even arrived at self-consciousness, all these ideas he will find later on in Jife consecrated, explained, commented upon by those theories which express the universal con- science or the collective prejudice, and by all religious, political, and economic institutions of the society to which he belongs. And he will be so impregnated with them himself that, whether or not he is jer: sonally interested in their defence, he has become involuntarily, by a‘ his material, intellectual and moral habits their accomplice,

We must not wonder, therefore, at the all powerful it fluence over the bulk of anankind, of these ideas which express the collective con- science of society, but on the contrary we should rather wonder at the fact that, in this mass, individuals are found who have the intelligence, will and courage to combat them. For the pressure of society ou the individual is iMMense and there is no character-nor intelligence which would be strong and powerful enough to pretend to be entirely safe from attacks of this equally despotical and irresistible influence.

Nothing proves the social character of men as this influence dovs. We might say that the collective couscience of a society, incarnated as well in the great puble institutions as in all the details of its private life, and being the basis of all its theories, forms a hind of milieu, of an intellectual and moral atmosphere, obstructing but ab- solutely necessary to the existence of all ats members. By at they are at the same tie dominated, penetrated, and sustained, being bound together among themselves by customary rapports which are neces- sarily determined by this collective conscience itself and which msure to everybody security, and constitute for all, the supreme condition of the existence of the nuagjerity, banality, common-place routine.

The large majority of men, not only of the people but also of the privileged and educated classes (and the latter often ina Jarger degree even than than the people) only feclat ease and peace in their minds when, by their ideas and all ther acts, they narrowly, blindly follow tradition and routine: * We must think and act like this, because our fathers did so formerly and everybody around us thinks and acts im the way. Why should we therefore do otherwise These words express the philosophy, the conviction and the practice of ninety of every hundred of mankind, taken at random in all classes af society, And,as TP have already ol served, there hes the vreatest obstacle to prowress and the qore rapid) emancpation of

Chive act as They end » and inst). Incorporated

Satie

mee out

humanity.

To de continued

The total meunt of bibour needed to provide for our wants will [we Food. half au hour's labour daily ¢ clothing, fifteen minutes

houses, ete. dadf an hewur'’s fabour: that is (assamins lid tetaloof 2) hour's labour daily world

ani ices Bei supply us iiabundanee with all the comforts of life. The Are

as follows ; labour daily CVery mitt his stitre), it progress of invention and the mereasine appleation of machiners daily reducing even the amount of Tivbour, so that the part which tas new myunly to be plaved hw man, is simply te superintend the machin-

ery Which dieew the work =- Willian Hoyle

Arevsr, [8N4.

TT eae

THE BALANCE OF POWER.

> e<

It is scarcely necessary to disclaim a too close svuipa- thy with that startlng phenomenon of civilization, the homb-thrower; but we are blind indeed if we do not observe and take into account the mmoamense revolntion of ideas he is effecting in the administration of human affairs We imay condemn and denounce him, as we do without stint; he goes on heedlessly and unconcerned —the increasing frequency of his acts shows how power- less are established institutions to suppress him. He has come, not only to slay, but to stay.

The pulpit and the press have heaped coals of fire upon the heads of “ these miscreants.” ; edastards has been heard on all sides. Indeed, this is natural enougo. Their motives have been largely hidden with the necessary secrecy of their operations. They have determined, however, to refute this charge of cowardice with becoming grace. One after another have yielded up their hves, the most priceless of their posses-

sions, in order to add a proud digmity to thei devotion.

Indeed they have counted their very executions as so much propaganda,” and religiously refused to take the smallest advantage occasion has offered to clear them- selves of guilt. hey have believed themselves to be the avengers of wrong, and have died with a serenity as sublime as that which actuated the early Christians.

The bomb-thrower 1s essentially a brave ian, a man of quick sympathies, and vigorous in action. He is the agent of a new terror mainly on account of the moral justification that stimulates him. We are all of us con- vinced, in our innmerinost hearts, that Society is respon- sible tor his actual existence. He points with supreme scorn, as well he may, to a civilization which, im order to mamtam itself, is ooliged to have recourse to modern nalitarism, Sut still, two wrongs do not make one right: let us therefore cease to justify either, and Gon- demn without partiality. Tt may be difficult to do so, Inasmuch as the bomb-thrower invariably brings panic with his new tmanifestation of covertiment. which clouds our moral vision, but at mast be done. We readity enough perceive the evil of his act, but entirely overlook its unconscious nanistry for good.

[tis idle to suppose that the execution of the bomb- thrower will change the Course of events. Tle may ‘ halt for breathing space” and to reconnoitre the situation, and when Society toudly supposes hinn to be utterly dis- mayed, and relaxes its rigor a consequence, he will thunder forth agai, and i the most unexpected place. The more he is executed, the wider the breach opens ; and finally, a form of ‘ possession” seizes him which maddens him to strike, more terrible often, beeanse vam, lessly, and without discretion. ‘Phe act of mate Henry Was a Consequence of the police repression which. re- sulted from: the act of Auguste Vaillant.

Gunpowder changed the old methods of war, and shitted the balance of power. Serence has reduced to Impotence the mere supremacy of numbers. ‘The more Inodern concentrated explosives have supplanted the rifle and the sword. Phe very destructiveness of our modern wartare tends to deter statesmen from gomgto war. Tt would be impossible to anticipate the outcome of a con- test between two great powers, if all the latest appliances of chemistry and mechanics were put into play. ‘Thus

every advance made in the manufacture of weapons of

destruction has brought increased respect, in the long rin, to those who have become possessed of such sources ofstreneth. The individual Nihilist is more feared by the Cvar than a whole army of serfs. The result is that the lomblest eitizen merits at least some consideration, and there ds cultivated a dispositions to rermove those crush Hie btirdens from the sdroutders of thre people, Where despa is fast gouding them oon to tasurreetion.

The oly thine thet naiuihiid yey liad, ‘ay probably

The ery of |

LIBe ey. 59

ever will, worship, is pov. Even the devotees of God have always mi omuand the attribute of ommipotence, Majority-rule has uo better moral apology than its power to execute its will. And so, when Scrence shall pro- vide individuals with still more potent, still more terri- ble engines of destruction, it may come to pass that we shall pay some respect, if imdeed, we do not lift our hats, to the bomb-thrower,

The century will not pass, in my opinion, withont realizing man’s long dream of traversing the air. Crookes has told of the potential energy of ether. Keely chums to have discovered the key to this energy, and to have surpassed all previous conceptions of a@rouautics. In his suspension of gravity, or meantpulation and utilization of the polar flow, he has approached the realization of Lytton’s suggestion of enfin the Comings Race," in being able to draw unlimited energy from the atmosphere and put it to mechanical use without storage. Dewar doubts not that Keely may lift thousands of tons in the ar. This new application of mechanical physics, this wider Comprehension of correlative forces, is destined to supply a single individual with a greater grip of power than Jove ever wielded, when of old, he hurled down amongst men the thunderbolts of heaven,

Yes, this new balance of power is destined to achieve mighty results, before which established tyranny will pale. But all the devastation wrousht by the new agencies will be as naught compared with the horrors inflicted upon the people by statesmen in the past. “Man dres't ina little brief authority” will no longer subdue his weaker fellow, and enslave and degrade him, when itis found to be so dangerous to do so. Aneraot fellowship will dawn at last. [t 1s the monopoly of force Which to-day engenders the social antagonisins. When there comes a tnore equal diffusion of power, the neces- sity of employing power will no longer exist, and Anarchy will be realized at last.

Hiknry SkYMOUR.

INTERNATIONAL NOTES

= rod -

Comrade Meunier has been seutenced to penal servitude for life. He was absolutely a stranger to the facts of which he was accused. The Freneh pole, unable to discover the authors of the explosions at the restaurant Very and the Lobau barracks, charged all Anarchists which fell into their hands with these facts, und finally fixed these charges on Meunier, because a wourun, with whom Meunier bad quar- relled, told absurd stories about him. Notwithstanding that Meunier was able to prove, by six witnesses, an alibi, a jury was found in France to find hin guilty !

We are oppossed to all acts of blind (indisoriminate) violence ; but it seems to us that the bourgeots, in condemning as they do, with or without proofs, every Anarehist, are the direct provocators of and principe: tly respousible for vets like the attempts in the Liceo theatre and the Cate Terminus.

We send to Meumer the expression of our sympathy. He has alwavs been a decided upholder of the workers’ cause, which is the cause of justice, freedom and bappimess for all. ‘Phe chairman of the assizes reproached dam with continually arguing ou his fellow-workers to resist the oppression of the masters. For this the bourgeois hated hom and the workers loved him and repyret his absence.

We hope tosee Meumer back among aus. The bourgeois condemned him to perpetual lmiprisonment. But how long is the" perpetuality i of the capitalist organization gory to last +

The latest aformation we have of our Comrade Meunier (Keuter’s Agency) is that he bas tefased to sign an appeal, all whe kaew hom expected nothing fnooprivate hte be penth:, and 4s sympathetic as a won, butin propaganda, consistent and courageous,

lens Wits

Mancwesten ANARCHIST Draw. ‘bhe winning numbers are 314, 295), 284, 506, 359, 775, S21, 209, 724, 22, 526, 393. This draw was started in order to meet the heavy expenses meurred in the

valiant fierlt ter Free Speech waged hy our comrades last winter. ft dias been vers sdecesstal, though still leaviny them iat vpood deal

debt

60) Ley Be

ig - 7 —— : = — = Se

HAVis YOU NOT HEARD HOW IT HAS GONE WITH MANY A CAUSE BEFORE NOW; FIKST, FEW MEN HEED IT; NEXT, MOST MEN CONTEMN IT; LASTLY, ALL SEN ACCEPT IT—AND THE CAUSE IS WON!

‘LIBERTY " js a journal of Anarchist-Communism; but articles on all phases of the Revolu tlonary movement will be freely adinitted, provided they are worded in suitable language, No contributions should exceed one column jin length. The writer over whose signature the article appears is alone responsible for the opinions expressed, and the Editer in all matters reserves to himself the fullest right to reject any article.

We would ask our contributors, to write plainly and on one side of the paper only.

All Communications shonld be addressed, — The Editor, Liberty, 7 Beadon Road, Hanmer smith, W.

Subscription, 1s. 6d. per year, post free supplied by W. Reeves, 185, Fleet Street, H.C.

Per quire of 27 copies, ts. 7d. post free. The trade

To Correspondents.

C. Srravanan and Wiyntk Fosrer. — Received 28. 6d. Justin time for Meunier Defence Fund; thanks for postal order for paper and pamphlets.

T. H. Bent, Edinburgh.— Pamphlets sent as requested.

A. Despres, Liverpool.— Pamphlets, cte., forwarded ; will send other papers. We are glad to find Liverpool Liberty Group so healthy.

LIBERTY,

LONDON, AUGUST, 1894.

Between Ourselves.

—— 9 —e

As we go to press our Comrades Cantwell and Quinn have been sentenced to six months’ hard labor, couvieted on evidence which even the Daily Chronicle vdimits to be of the flimeiest Kind. Al) Socialists were excluded ; every one wishing te enter the court beme subjected to a close serutiny, and refused admission at the diseretion of the police.

They were remanded no less than five times and the charge was converted more than once duct, then it was incitement to murder the Royal Faniuly. inally our comrades were committed on four charges: 1, imettement to murder; 2, seditious Iibel (a new charge, by the was); 38) the publieation of the leaflet “Why Vaillant threw othe bomb?" (whieh charge was a deliberate invention); and finally, a charge under the Explosives Act onthe ground of amanuseript found at Sidmouth Mews, bemy a recipe for the composition of explosives.

At. first it was a charge of disorderly con-

At this juncture of the case an attempt was made onthe part of the prosecution to gmpleate the whole of the Commonuvral (rroup, by committing Quin ou the same charge, Mr. Parrelly however, very ably combated this point, porting ont that from the fet of Quinn ‘being a member of the Group. it by no means followed that he had any knowledge of the existence of the uuinuseript in cuestion therefore not committed ander the Jexplosives Act but was finally com. mitted on the other three charees.

Quinn wis

We may safely conclude that this case das arisen out of existine

prejudices and in COTE COTETTO® of pres vious events The Poster shown

on Tower Hill contaimed vothine more seditious thitn may be read week hy week in, wiv, fe ynolds for dastanee > hut whea similar or identical expressions are used by men known to profess Anarchist opinions a different imipressron is conveyed. This was well stated ani exemplified by the prosecutiug counsel while Wolliaaim= Morris was in When about to state the

which constitute the allecwed roerteonrent the cotttisel interciptedd with

the withess boy. Mean ob thee fore dies “Tt does uot matter what the writer diplies, the question is what the prisouers rmply [uo the same way deteetives were allowed te spoith of previous specehes tide by the prisoners, While the defenmee wes ret permitted torntrodece any eviderer respecting: there previous speeches

Strange are the wavs of "law Jeu Give receives a. setitetiee af two vears fora couple of dines contiimed ia beak of soo pisces, thy contention berg that those dies eprromase the meanimie of the loch

The precisely opposite contettrone 1s alleged to owercrule an tle preset

ie ys ay

Ne tT I

BE, PNG a O ease, Where four lines are beld to mean something ofhker than the from which they are taken means asa whole. Law's CONSISteney to be found im one pommt funk at the Anarchist Idea. hy okt present charge consists, first and last, in prosecution of the Idea va

poet

The most suspicious feature of this case is th: $ that

the prosecut | ‘ Uting counsel has said week after week : &

has “! We have not yet formulated ouy charge. Suddenly, then, this manuscript concerning explosivey ; brought forward, ‘The thing is suggestive. eos

Comrade Kropotkin contributes a very able article on « Mutual Aid in the Medieval City,” the first of (wo papers, to the Nineteenth Ci nt The mediaeval city, he pomts out, was not simply a political amon, sation for the protection of certain political liberties ; it was an atten 4 at organising, on a much grander scale than in a village community close ution for mutual aid and support, for consumption and ptvnihagh. ion, and tor social life altogether, without imposimg upon men the fer ters of the State, but giving full liberty of expression to the genius of each separate group of individuals in art, crafts, commerce, and political organisation.”

tet. CTealive: SCIENCE,

Au Kngtish translation, by Ralph Derechef, of Felix Dubois’ book “The Anarchist Peril” is published by Fisher Unwin, Latin, This is the book of a journalist, and moreover, of a journalist of the Figaro; that means to say, it contains all that is necessary to vet at sale among the curious, but nothing showmg any sincere desire for discovering the truth aud making it known to the public. Drawings reproduced from the Pere Petnward, sensational phrases, picked out at hazard fromthe Anarchist press, anda little chronology of the exterior dramatic incidents of the French Anarebist movement, form the main part ot the book, Phere is no understanding found of the Anarchist ideas, their origin, evolution, and outcome.

nye

To judge the book and its author it is sufficient to read what he says about Bakunin. ‘This unportant personality, who will have had on the events of this century a much larger influence than we yet Imagine, and who left in the spirit of those who knew him such a pro- fouad impression and deep affection, isto M. Dubois, a suspect person, perhaps a spy!

M. Dub ns only knows, aud in an entirely superficial way, the Anareh- isin Parts of the Jast few vears. He derives these manifestations of Auarehism whieh are all he is aware of, directly from Bakunin, whilst to the trends of Bakunin they appear rather to be the nepa- tion of the Bakunist tradition.

Bakunin meets with an equal want of proper understanding at the hands of Mr. Morrison Davidson, who, in the Westininster Gazette of July 12th, and the Weekly Times of July 28th, puts himself forward as a sort of historian of the Anarchist theories.

Referring to his statements im the former article we cau shortly reply (contradicting his assertions) that Bakunin (who died in £876, vot im 1878) hid not write the lines quoted from a‘ Kevolutionary Catech- ism’ which was vof read at the trial of Nevehageff, which trial did aot take place in L387) (but early in 1873).

The facts about this Revolutionary Catechism’? are briefly these : at the trial of a number of students, ete, with whom Netehajeff, when in Russia, had associated, the document referred to was read from a copy tm cypher; uo proof was ever brought forward. that Bua- kunin was the author of it}; whilst ait) suited the purposes of unfair polenies congenial to Karl Marx to aseribe this and some other pubheations to Bakunin, it with the greatest amount of probability, os well from internal evidence as from the oral testimony of men who have known aft the time both Bakunin and Netehajetf, that the latter was the author of ait, and documentary proof could be brought forward to show how strongly Bakunin disagreed with seme of Netehayef?s chief ideas. Moreover, in a letter addressed to the Journal de Geneve (published on Sept. 25th, 1873) Bakunin, referring “You attribute to me writings with the And, finally, there Bakunin,

results

to these pubheations, sara: publication of which T have uothimg to do.” exist in mmanusenpt, two “Revolutionary Catechisms "by none of whieh has a line in common with that from wiieh Mr. Mor- risou Davidson, repeating the oll Marxist slanders, quotes.

To show further, how Jistory is written by Mr. Morrison Davidsen, heosays (Westuiuster Guaedte) that after “an abortive Anarchist

"at Lyons iu (S70 the declaration of the Lyous Anarchist per : Now

Pistia soners from whieh he quotes a long extract was read mn court

who of his readers will imagine, that this “rising took place on Sept. 28th, E870 durmy the Franco-German War (Bakunin took partinmait) whilst the decliration was rend at the trial ef the Lyons

TH conelivhes with the all, haw:

and other Anarchists on Jan. 2srd, 2S8s ! words: © What scomtdrels are we 2 We ledore for all, Wo and) for

want bread fou

Witt inctependence an

work fry a a

pasties.” (Et was publishe bits an Mielish Leathe at the fim tt this may be one of the earhest Buglish Anareliest publications ) ‘ ‘ Te ‘ay het We think before establishing fanciful distinetions bet ween : Pte os ; aaa i} tian aed“! Materadost ° Nnarehosm and similiar nonsense, Mi 4h . . esau TaN misen Dievulsorm owebt to raferm himself on the vers out lites .

history of Anarchist theortes,

WRT RT,

Sevan, PME het

i RR

THE DUTIES OF THE PRESENT HOUR. By ERRICO MALATESTA,

Reaction is let loose upon us from all sides. The bourgeoisie, Infuriated by the fear of losing her privileges, will use all moans of repression to suppress not only the Anarchist and Socialist, but every progressive ment.

It is quite certain that they will not be able to pre- vent these outrages which served as the pretext of tlits present reaction; on the contrary, the measures which bar all other outlets to the active temper of some seer expressly calculated to provoke and multiply them,

But, unfortunately, It is not quite certain that they may not succeed in hampering our propaganda by re nidering the circulation of our press very difficult, hy inprisouing a great number of our comrades, and by leaving no other means of revolutionary activity open to us than secret meetings, which may be very useful for

-the actual execution of actions determined on, but which cannot make an idea enter into the mass of the pro- leturiate.

We would be wrong to console ourselves with the old illusion that persecutions are aldimays useful to the development of the ideas which are persecuted. ‘This is wrong, as almost all generalisations are Persecutions may help or hinder the triataph of a cause, according to the relation existing between the power of persecution and the power of resistance of the persecuted , and past history contains examples of persecutions which stopped and destroyed a movement as well as of others which brought about a revolution.

Hence we must face, without weakness or allusion, the situation mto which the dbowrgeotste has placed us to-day and study the means to resist the storm aud to derive from it the greatest possible profit: for our catise.

There are comrades who expect the triumph of our ideas from the multipheation of acts of individual vio- lence. Well, we may differ in our opimions on the moral value and the practical effect of individual aets om general, and of each act im particular, and there are im fact on this subject among Anarchists various divergent and even directly Opposed currents of opinion; but one thing is certam, namely, that with a number of bombs and a number of blows of the knife, a society like bour- geors society cannot be overthrown, beme based, as it Is, OM ah eHOrimous Hiss Of private mterests and preyu- dices, and sustamed, more than itis by the force of arms, by the inertia of the masses and them habits of submis- SION.

Other things are necessary to bring bout a revolution, and specnuly the Anarchist revolution. Pt is necessary that the people be conscious of them riehts and ther strength ; it is necessary that they be ready to fleht and realy to take the conduct of their affairs into their own hands. Itanust be the coustant preoccupation of the revolutionists, the port towards which all thei activity must aim, to hiring about this state of mind amone the IMaSSeS. ‘Tie brilliant acts of a few midividtals may help in this work, but cannot replace ity anda im es they are only useful aif they are the result of movement of sprit of the masses and HeCOML plished under such cireumistinces that the misses un- derstand them, svmpathise with, and profit

Woe to us, Woe to our cause if we ity, Walting from: time Vaillant the cnuse and be admired for ther pects the emancipation of manmktid to come, the persistent and diarmonious co-operation of all men

from the accidental or providencuel hag not better Witerveditiow of ay

MOVE =

ic ollec tive sda

hy then, reniaih dy daeetay- to time for men Lhe Caserio and

\\ bio em

rat

bravery ; fronts

of prowress, but Perini of than Ohne

sore aets of breroisai. is “advised

Who expects it from the PHA UEROUES levishator or aft a Vietorous veneral,

Pallas and Berkinatn to saeritice their dives for

ney. 61 Ee ne eae LER en TR ee ee ee

After all, aa any bat oa very Hmited aumber of Individuals do really c mmmuat aets of this hind. And the others? What are we dome. we, the grent majority of Amochists, who throw no bombs and kill no tyrants ? Must we content ourselves with praising the dead and wit with equanimity of conscience for others to come forward to get killed? Et is Hnportant that we should avree as to the line of conduet fitted for the bnolk of Anarchists: which would not prevent individuals of ex- ceptional energy and devouion bringing to the stragete their personal audac itv and saerifice.

What have we to doin the present situation ?

Betore all, omy opmion, wemust as muchas possible resist the laws; Danight almost say we must ignore them,

Thedevree of freedom, as well as the degree of exploita- tion adios whiel: we ee Is Hot at allyor only in aw small measure, dependent upon the letter of the law: it depends before all upon the resistance offered to the laws. One can be relatively free, notwithstanding the existence of dracoman Jaws, provided custom is opposed to the gov- ernment making use of them; while, on the other side, I spite of . eunmintees granted by laws, one may be at the merey of all the violence of the police, if they feel, that they can, without beige punished, make short work of the liberty of the citizens,

In laly, the government used to dissolve, from time to time, such assocnitions as they considered dangerous to the monarchical tmstitutions. Protests, and cries of indignation were raised and, what is most important, the dissolved societies were forthwith reconstituted + and the government could not but let this pass, and its aims to suppress the meht of assomation of its opponents were contintuudly frustrated, After having several times used this method agunust the Tnternatronal Work- Ingmenms Association (which, im Italy, was from the be- einning Anarchist) and not succeeding im making it discppear, the government dat upon prosecuting 1ts members as persons aflilinted to an association of crimi- mus. But th was luipossigie to prosecute all, From tithe to time arrests were made, sentences passed ; the accused openly vindicated ther ideas and the right to as- soclate for them propagation ; the sections of the [nter- ational continued them work, and im the end, whilst a mianber of individuals suffered) personally and those Who feht agemst the existing ocder of things must ex- pect to suffer the aims of the government were frus- trated and the propaganda profited by it ever so much, But then Anarchists began to say that to form associa- tions meant giving an opportumity for prosecution of associations of criminals to the government; they caus- ed the dissolution of the existing association, combated all efforts to reorganise it and, in this way, volan-

CEE.

tarily renounced the right of association. Phis did not, of course, prevent a smele condemnation; on the

CONTTALY, Anarchists are aceused of forming criminal associations if perchance they meet each sabhicer iat cafe—they may even not know one another — simply becutse they are Anarchists.

The

wealnst ous

at present

resuits of will ourowhattitude,

the new tows which are beige forged

depend to a large degree, upon It weotferenergetic resistance, they wall at once appear to puble opimuon as a shameless viola- tiomof all tain meht and will be condenmed to spocdy extinetion orto remain a dead letter, we accommodate ourselves to them, they will rank wath contemporary political customs, which will, later on, have the disastrous result of giv ne fresh importance to the breech aes,

If, on the concrary,

strogele for political liberties (of speaking, writing, the cause sighit of the social question,

combining, ane associating) and be nore or less of lostiag

Weare to be Jet us They Walt ta proser. be the aloud

prevented frotn expressing our ideas : thrat bitte of

less anid Vt Py that we aire ANwarehogsts

hoo se qrotie bie more thi ever,

Anarchist : let

ns shout The nicht ot

62 LIB

74 utstT, 1894,

—_—_—_——— OE

association as to be denied us: let us associate as we Can, and prochum that we are associated, and mean to be. This hind of action, Pam quite aware, is hot without difficulty i the state things are in at present, and can only be pursued within the limits and inthe way which commonsense will dictate to everybody according to the different cueumstances they tive under. But det us always remember that the oppression of governments has no other limits than the resistance offered to it.

Those Socialists who imagine to escape the reaction by severing their cause from that of the Anarchists, not only give proof of a narrowness of view which Is ico patible with aims of radical reorganisation of the social system, but they betray stupidly their proper interest. If we should be crushed, their turn would come very SOON.

But before all we must go among the people: this is the way of salvation for our cause.

Whilst our ideas oblige us to put all our hopes im the masses, because we do not believe in the possibility of imposing the good by force and we do not want to be com- manded, we have despised and neglected all manitesta- tions of popular life ; we contented ourselves with simply preaching abstract theones or with acts of imdividual revolt, and we have become isolated. Hence the want of success of what J will call, the first period of the Anarchist movement. propaganda and struggle, after so much devotion and so many muartyrs, we are to-day nearly strangers to the great popular commotions which agitate Europe and America, and we find ourselves ina situation which per- nits the governments to foster, without plamly appear. ing absurd, hopes to suppress us by some police Measure.

Let us reconsider our position.

To-day, that which always ought to have been our duty, which was the logical outcome of our ideas, the condition which our conception of the revolution and reorganization of society imposes on us, namely, to live among the people and to win them over to our ideas by actively taking part im their strageles and suffermes, to- day this has become an absolute necessity imposed up- on us by the sieuation whieh we have to live under. Our ordinary means of propaganda the press, meetinyes, groups of more or less convinced adherents of our ideas

-at any rate fora certam: time, will becote tore and more difheult to be used. Tt as only in working-men’s associations, strikes, collective revolts where we can find a waste held for exercising our miflience wid propagating our ideas. Butaif we want to succeed, let as remember that people do not become Anarchists ia single day, by hearme some violent speeches, and let us above all avoid falling into the error common to many comrades, who retuse to associite with working men who are not already perfect Anarchists, whilst it is absolutely necessary to

associate with them ia order to make them become Aniarehists. The Movement in Manchester.

To the Mditor of Laherty A deliberate attempt made here in’ Manchester by the “Wroateh-Commiuttee of the Mauchester Corporation fo suppress the “oght of Puble Meeting? "Phey have given instructions to the Chief Constable to suppress anyaimeetings held dy Anarchists, and acting up.

Yas been

on toistructions recerved, Chief Deteetive: Cunninada suppressed ile usual meeting held an Stevenson Sq. oon Snoday afternoou, July sth The reason according to the Press (and we have none from auy other source) beme that the Anarchists have spoken approvingls ‘af the assitsstnation of President Carnot. ‘The truth or falsehood of the above Heeusttien seems tous te be beside the mark. the question at issue is, ought the suppression of any public meetings te be allowed om aecotnt of whrtone or two of the speakers tis dave sant? Tb any one is wutty of an attewad et fet that person. be prosecuted, but do not let us Wie Poremain, Manehester AC G

allow such oa dhincereus precedent as this te pass without protest appeal to all Youts traternally ,

lovers of whoet ps recht fer there assistutree

Apraet Ss Hous. Ses

After more than twenty years of

PROUDHON AND COMMUNISM.

The so-called Proudhontains like to tellus that in preaching Tudivid

ualisiy and private appropriation they follow his teachings. This is What Proucdhon wrote in his last work on Property, the “Moors published in 1866, after his death. After having developed in that work the ideas that, with the present z

of Property,” ; 5 development of State, private property is the only means of defending liberty against the State,—he wrote the following char conclusion to his work (pp. 244-246).

imin's acteristic | mu

0 private property he

personally preferred Slavonte or Communal possession of land.

I have unfolded the considerations which render the idea of private property intelligible, rational, justifi- able, without which it would be usurpatory and hateful, And yet, even on those terms, it Contains somethiny of that selfishness which is always antipathetic to me, M levelling reason, always against being governed, and an enemy to the rage and abuses of power, 18 prepared to allow proprietorship to be kept up asa shield and posi- tion of safety for the weak: but my heart will never be with at. As far as I am concerned, 1 feel no necessity for this concession either for the purpose of gaining my own bread, or to fulfil my civie duties, or tor my own happiness. | have no need to meet it with others that To may aid their weakness and respect. their rights. J have sufficient energy of conscience and intel- Jectual force to suitably maimtain all my relations with my neighbours, without it, and if the majority of my fellow citizens resemnbled me—-what need would there be of that institution 2? Where would be the danger of tyranny 2 Where the danger of ruin by competition and free trade? Where would be the danger for the little man, the pupil, or the workman? Where would he the need of pride, ambition, ana greed which cannot satisfy itself except by the numensity of appropration ?

A small house, held on hire, the use of a garden would he amply suffient for mes my occupation not being to cultivate the soil, the vine, ora meadow, F do not, require a park or a large inheritance, and oven if TE were a husbandman and vine-dresser, Slavome forme of posses- sion would satisfy me, rez, the share falling to each head of a family in each commune — f cannot tolerate the Insolence of the man who with his foot on land which he merely holds by a free concession, forbids us to pass over it, and prevents our gathering a flower in his field or to walk over a foot path.

When TL sec all these fences in the suburbs of Paris which take away a view of the country and the enjoy- ment of the soi from the poor pedestrian, mry blood fairly boils. bask myself whether such proprietorship which thus ties up each person within his own house is not rather expropriation and expulsion from the land. Private Property! J sometimes meet with these words written in darge letters at the entrance to an open road and which resembles a sentinel forbidding you to advance any farther, T confess, my manly dignity fairly bristles up in disgust. Oh?! E remain with regard to this on the standpoint of Christian religion, which recom- mends abnegation, preaches modesty, simplicity of mind, and poverty of heart. Away with the ancient patrician, nnmerciful and covetous ; away with the msolent baron, the wreedy bourgeois, and the harsh peasant, drus arator. ‘These people are odious to me! TP can neither like them nor look at them. Tf [ should ever find my- self a proprietor PE should be one of that kind whom (rod

and men, especially the poor forgive !

Native-born Persons in {,OOO Inhabitants.

Coanited Kangdom Ot Belorum PUR Crerimany 7.4 France lad . ; ey) ltals On) Switzerland pea Helland ORR Uinted States Sob

” as We .

ft ois manifest that our poy dation os essentiadls ear gwn, Frame

Varlhell, Ise?

heya 6 times as tay foreigu settlers

LSO-4.

ACGUBT,

Li Bis Ty

THE VOICE OF TOIL. By WILLIAM MORRIS

I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying All days shall be as all have been ;

To-day t and to-morrow bri ing fear and sorrow The never-ending toil between.

When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger, In hope we strove, and our hands were strony ;

Then great men led us, with words they fed us, Aud bade us right the earthly wroug.

Go-read in story their deeds and glory, Their names amidst the nameless dead ; Turn then from lying to us slow-dying In that good world to which they ie

Where fast and faster our iron master, The thing we made, for ever drives,

Bids us grind treasure and fashion pleasure For other hopes and other lives.

Where home is a hovel and dull we grovel Forgetting that the world is fair ;

Where no babe we cherish, lest its very soul perish, Where our mirth is crime, our love a snare.

Who now shall lead us, what god shall heed us As we lie in the hell our hands have won? For us are no rulers but fools and befoolers, The great are fallen, the wise men gone. ® ) a * « e

Theard men saying, Leave tears and praying The sharp knife heedeth not the sheep ;

Are we not stronger than the rich and the wronger, When day breaks over dreams and sleep?

Come, shoulder to shoulder cre the world grows older ! Help lies in nought but thee and me ;

Hope is before us, ‘the long years that bore us Bore leaders more than men my be.

Tet dead hearts tarry and trade and marry, And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth, While we the living our lives are giving To bring the bright new world to birth.

Come, shoulder to shoulder ere earth grows older! The Cause spreads over land and sea

Now the world shaketh, and fear awaketh, And joy at last for thee and me.

[The verse printed in iti alies above forms part of the charge upon which our comrades T. Cantwell and ©. T. Quinn are committed for trial for inciting Henry Braden and others to murder the royal family !—Ep. }

MY UNCLE BENJAMIN.

ro<- CHAPTER ITT.

After having recovered his breath and wiped his brow, for he was sweating, my worthy great-uncle, with emotion and wrath, took my grindfather aside, and said to him :

“Suppose we invite this brave man and this glorious poodle to break- fast with us at Manette’s 2”

“Wurm! ham tl’? objected my grandfather.

“The devil 1? replied Benjamin,” meet every day a poodde who has made an English captain prisoner, and every day poli fieal banquets are given to people who are not worth this honorable quadruped.”’

“But have you any money 7 am thirty-sou piece, which your sister Velieve, it is imperfectly coined, and “shee urgently bring he oy back at Jeast half.’

“For my part, T have not a sou, but Tam Manette’s physician, just as she from time to time is my tavernkeeper, and we give each other ere dite”

“ Manctte’s physician only ?

“What's that to vou?”

‘Nothinu; but I warn you that To will not stay more than an hour at Manette’s.””

Soomy unele extended his invitation to the The Jatter arcepted without ceremony, and joyfully placed Himself between my Unele and my grandfather, wi alkine in what soldiers call lock

Thev met a o which a pe ested was driving to pasture, Undoubtedly by Benjamin's coat, he sudde nly starte ‘es o lim. = My Unele dodged his horns, and, as he had seleared ata bound, with No hore effort th: i it he had CURT FH cape PF, ek semi t diteh that separated the road from the fields. ‘The bull, who was undoubt- edly determined to make aslash in the red coat, tried to follow Yacle's example; buat he fell into the metddle of the diteh. enough for you?” said Benjamen, that's what vou get by seeking a Quarrel with people who are net of But the quadruped, as obstinate as a Russian mounting te an assault, was not digeour, aged by this failure; planting his hoofs in the half-thawed

one does not

said my grandfather; “T have only a wave ime this Morning because, I recommended me to

”

sergeant.

-step }

Offe ded

younts of steel,

niyv 5 (rood

= dyeaming you.

ground, he tried to climb the slope. My uncle, seeing that, drew his sword, and, while he was pricking the enemy's snout to the best of his ability, he called the peasant, and erted | My good man, stop your beast ; vlaw ft wan you that Twill pass my rear through his body.” But as he said the words he let his sword fall mto the ditch. “ Take off Your coat, and throw it to him as quickly as you can,’ cried Mache- court, " Hide among the vines,” sud the peasant. “Sic him! sie him! Foutenoy,” said the sergeant. ‘The poodle leaped at the bull, and, as if he knew his enenry, bit him on the hanv-string. The animal then turned his wrath against the dog ; but, while he was mi: tking havoe with his horns, the peasant came up and sacceeded in passing a noose around the bull's hind legs. This skilful manauvre was per- fectly successful, and put an end to the hostilities.

Benjamin returned to the read. He thought that Machecourt was going to laugh at him, but the latter was as pale as a sheet and trem. bled on his legs.

“Come, Machecourt, brace up,” said my uncle; “ else T shall have to bleed you. And you, my brave Fontenoy, you have mado to- day a prettier fable than that of Ta Fontaine, entitled : ‘Tho Dove and the Ant.” You see, gentlemen, a good decd is never lost. Generally the benefactor is obliged to give long credit t> the bene ‘fictary, but he, Fontenoy, bad paid me in advance. Who the devil would have thought that [ would ever be under obligations to a poodle ?’

Monlot is hidden among a clump of willows and naglines on die left bank of the Beuvron river, atthe foot of a big hill, up which runs tho road to La Chapelle. A few houses of the village had already gone up by the side of the road, as waite and as spick and span as peasant women when they go into # place frequented by society ; ; among them was Manette’s wine-shop. At sight of the frost-covere { sign that huug from the attic window Benjamin began to sing with his stentorin Voice :

“Amis, tl faut faire une piuse, J’apercois Pombre dun bouchon.”

On hearing this familar voice, Manette ran blushing to the threshold of her door.

Manette was really a very pretty person, plump, chubby, and white, but pe chips a little too pink; her elodk« would have ry aminde 1] you of a i50l of milk, on the surface of which a few drops of wine were float- ing. ‘ Gentleman,” satd Benj umin, “ permit me first of all to kisa our pretty hostess, a3 an appotizer for the good breakfast which she is go- Inz to prepare for us directly.”

“Tudecd Monsieur Rathery !" exclaimed Manette, stirting back, ‘you are not made for peisant women ; go and kiss Mademois-lle Minxit.”

“Tt seems,” thought my uncle, “that the report of my marriage has alrevly spread through ths country. No one but M. Minxit can hive spokenof it; hence he mast bs determine { to have mo for a son-in-law ; so, if he shoul t not receive my visit to-day, that would not be a reason for breaking off the negotiations.”

“ Manette,” he added, “ Mile. Minxit is not in question here; have you any fish?”

“There are plenty of fish,” poi Oe

‘Agun Task you, Manette,” Be careful what you answer,

“Well,” said Manette, “ my husband has gone fishing, and he will soon return.”

“Soon does not meet our e1ss, put on the gridiron as many slices of ham as it will hold, and make usan omelette of all the eggs in your hen-house.’

The breakfast was soon ready. While the omelette was leaping im the fryine-pan, the ham was broiling. Now, the omelette was almost as soon despatched as served. It takes ahen six months to lay twelve eggs, a Woman a quarter of an hour to convert them into an omelette, avnd three men five minutes to absorb the omelette. “ See,” said Ben- jamin, * how much more rapid is decomposition than recom position ; countries covered with a numerous population grow poorer every day . Man isa greedy infaut who makes his nurse grow thin; the ox does hot restore to the fields all the grass that he takes from it; the ashes of the oak that we burn do not return as an oak to the forest; the zephyr does not carry back to the rose bush the leaves of the bouquet, that the young girl scatters around her; the candle that burus in front of us does not fall back in waxen dew upon the earth ; rivers continu. ally desporl contiments, and lose in the bosom of the sea the matter Which they take from their banks; most of the mountains have no verdure Jeft ther big bald eraninms; the Alps show us their bare and jagged bones; the interior of Afmiea as nothing but a lake of sumd; Spam is a vast moor, and Italy charnelhouse where there remains only a bed of ashes. W herever yreat people have passed, they have left ste rility in thei tracks. ‘Thas earth, adorned with ver- dure and with flowers, is) a econ tive whose cheeks are red, buat whose life is condemned. A time will come when it will be nothing but anoinert, dead, dey mass, a great seputchral stone upon whieh God ‘Here lies the human race” Meantime, Jet us by the blessings whieh the earth vives us, aud, as she is a toler- let us drink to her long life? to the jam My vrandfather from a sense of eat to maint box bealth and aust have Benjamin ate for amusement; but. the for no other Purpose,

suid Minette, M. Minxit’s fish

sud Benjamin, “ have you any fish ?

Npon

wm opreat

will write : ventlemen, protit ably good mother, then Dad Hast fu

aman whe sits down to table

They cute ate duty, blood in order

seryeant like and he did not utter a word.

At table Benjamin wats

dren yet

Wm serve Writs

wie

fais; but his uoble stomach was not

exempt from jealousy, a base passion which dims the most brilhant qualities,

LIBERTY.

He watched the sergeant with the vexed air of a man outdone, as |

Cesar would have watched, from the height. of the Capitol, Bonaparte winning the battle of Marengo. After having contemplated his man for some time in silence, he thought fit to address these words to him :

“ Drinking and eating are two beings that resemble each other ; at first sight you would take them for own cousins. But drinking is us much wbove eating as the eagle who alights upon the mountain peak is above the raven who perches on the tree-top. Eating is a necessity of the stomach ; drinking is a neccessity of the soul. Eating is only a common workman, while drinking is an artist. Drinking inspires poets with pleasant ideas, philosophers with noble thoughts, musicians with melodious strains ; eating gives them only indigestion. Now, I flatter myself, sergeant, that I could drink quite as well as you; I even think that I could drink better; but, when it comes to eating, I am the merest nove b:side you You could cope with Arthus in person; I even think that on a turkey you could go him one wing better.”

“ You see,” answered the sergeant, ‘I eat for yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow.”

“Permit me then to serve you for the day after-to-morrow this las , slice cf hum.”

“ Thank you very much,” said the sergeant, “there is an end to ee

“Well, the Creator who has made soldiers to pass suddenly from extreme abundance to extreme want has given to them, as to the camel, two stomachs ; their second stomach is their knapsack. Take this ham, which neither Machecourt nor I want, and put it in your knapsack.”

“No,” said the soldier, ‘‘ I do not we i to lay up provisions; I always get food enough ; permit me to offer this ham to Fontenoy ; we are in the habit. of sharing everything together, on days of feast as on days of fast.”

“You have there, indeed, a dog who deserves to be well taken care of,” said my uncle ; “ will you sell him to me?”

“ Monsieur !”’ exclaimed the sergeant, quickly placing bis hand upon his poodle.

“Pardon me, worthy man, pardon me; I am distressed at having offended yuu; I spoke only in jest; I know very well that to propose to a poor man to sell his dog is like proposing to a mother to sell her child.”

“You will never make me believe,” said my grandfather, “ that one can love a dog as much as a child; I, too, once had a poodle, a poodle that was well worth yours, sergeant,—be it said without offence to Fontenoy,—save that he has taken prisoner nothing but the tax-collee- tor’s wig. Well, one day, when I had lawyer Page to dinner, he ran off with # calf’s head, and that very night I passed him under the mill- wheel.”’

“ What you say proves nothing ; you have a wife and six children ; it is quite work enough for you to love all these people without form- ing » romantic affection for a poodle; but I am talking of a poor devil isolated among men and with no relative but his dog. Puta man with a doy in a desert idland, in another desert island put a woman with her ehild, and I will wager that in six month's time the man will love the dog, provided the dog is amiable, as well as the woman will love her ehild.”

“ 1 oan conceive,” answered my grandfather, “ that a traveller may like a dog to keep him company, that an old woman that lives alone in her room may like a pug with which to babble all day long. But that a man should love a dog with real affection, that he should love him as a Christian, that is what I deny, that is what I deem impos- sible.”

“ And I tell you that under certain circumstances you would love even a vail, the loving fibre in man canuot remain entirely in- ert. ‘The human soul abbors a vocuum; observe attentively the most hardened egoist, and at last you will find, like alittle flower among the stones, an affection hidden under a fold of his soul.

“It is a general rule, to which there is no exception, that man must love something. ‘The dragoon who has no mistress loves his horse ; the young girl who has no lover loves her bird ; the prisoneF, Who cannot in decency love his Jailor, loves the spider that spins his web on the window of his cell, or the fly that comes down to him in a ray of sun- light. When we find nothing animate to absorb out affections, we love miterial objects,—a ring, a snuff-box, a tree, a flower; the Dutchman feels a passion for his tulips, and the antiquary for his cameos.”

Just then Manette’s husband came in with a fat eel in his basket.

“ Machecourt,” said Benjamin, ‘it. is noon,—that is to say, dinner- time ; suppose we make a dinner of this eel?"

“Jt is time to go,” said Machecourt, “and we shall dine at M. Min- |

xit’s.””

‘ And you, sergeant ? Suppose we eat the eel?”

“For my purt,” said the sergeant, “ I am in no hurry ; as ] am not going anywhere in particular, I spend every night at home.”

“Very well said! And the respectable poodle, what is bis opinion on this point ?”’

The poodle looked at Benjamin and wagyed his tail two or three times.

“ Well, silence gives consent: so, Machecourt, there are three of us against you; you must bow to the will of the majority. The majority, you see, my friend, is stronger than the rest of the world. Put ten philosophers on one side and eleven fools on the pad flee aak will carry the day.”

ather

apr WE

' NORWICH

[Aucusr, 1894,

“The eel is indeed a very fine one,” said my grandfather. « and. if Manette has a little bacon, it will make an excellent matelote But th devil! what about my writ? That must be served.’”’ ; =

“Mark this,” said Benjamin ; ‘it will undoutedly be necessary fo some one to lend me his arm to escort me back to Clamecy. If = shirk this pious duty, I will no longer own you as my brother-in-law :

Now as Marchecourt was very anxious to continue as Be brother-in-law, he semained.

pDJamin’s

To be continued.

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Agent--John Murdock, 41, Bayswater Row, Roundhay Road. LEICESTER— Sundays, Russell Square, 10.45 a.m.; Market Place, 6.15 p.m.; Humberstone Gate, 8 p.m.

Agent—A. Gorrie, 18, Princes Street.

N , MANCHESTER —Sundays, Stephenson’s Square, 3 ; New Cross, 8. Agent--P. J. Kelly 9, West Dixon Screet, Salford, Sundays, Market Place, 11, and 3.30. Agent—A. 1. Moore, 24, Rose Yard, St. Augustine's, Norwich. SWANSEA—lLiberty Hall, Sundays, 11.30 and 3, Wednesdays, ¢- Coffee Tavern, Landore, 7.30.

S Mainwaring, 27, Morris Lane, St Thomas

30.

Agent