# The Strand Magazine/Volume 3/Issue 18/TQS

* The End of War written and illustrated by J. F. Sullivan
* Silver-Plated by W. L. Alden.
* Two Views of Lord Palmerston by Samuel A. Walker
* Pal's Puzzle Page by Jean de Paléologue
* Miscellaneous
Layout 4
The Queer Side of Things.
HE two spirits William and James—whose previous argument touching the possibility of the existence of worlds it is the reader's duty to recollect—were again wandering through the desolation of unoccupied space, when James, the young and fanciful, suddenly once again broke the oppressive silence.
"William," said he, "I have been thinking more about that system of creation of which I spoke."
William chuckled a rumbling chuckle of unmannerly raillery, and said—
"You have, of course, in thinking it over again, perceived the wild impracticability of the whole thing; and are about to unreservedly admit that neither universes, worlds, man, or anything else could possibly exist——"
"I have perceived nothing of the kind," replied James, somewhat irritably. "But the phase of the subject which has just been occupying my mind is war——"
"Yes," said William in his nasty way, "that assuredly would be the most prominent—nay, the engrossing—phase of any existence in which those phantastically imaginary creatures you call 'human beings' might take part. War—extermination—the end. Well?"
"Well, I admit the preponderance of war, but not the sequel you are pleased to suggest. I have dreamed the whole thing in its sequence. There would be war—war becoming ever more and more devastating—to a certain point——"
"But," interrupted William," before you go on wasting valuable eternity with your speculations, let me just ask you one question. You will, I take it, at once admit that the predominant characteristic of these human beings of yours is—foolishness bordering on idiotcy?"
"Well, ye—es," said James, communing with himself. "Ye—es. I see them universally agreeing to abolish all self-respect and establish a complicated system of mutual fraud which they will call 'commerce.' I see them heaping all their wealth upon howlers of drivelling comic songs, while allowing great writers to die of starvation. Ye—es, I admit the predominant characteristic."
"Very well, then," said William, "are these 'human beings' worth inventing?"
"Well—n—. Beshrew me, mustn't I amuse myself with a fad if I like?" said James, feeling rather cornered, and consequently angry. "Let me go on, while I remember my Vision of War. Well, first I seemed to see my human beings agreeing to kill each other with sharpened flints; this was slow work and not sufficiently sanguinary, so they set their brains (there, don't sneer) their brains to work to devise something capable of shedding larger quantities of blood with more facility. You need not laugh at that, for blood would be ​ "Agreeing to kill each other with sharpened flints." most useful in enriching the earth from which, you must bear in mind, these creatures would obtain their sustenance. You deafen one with your unthinking laughter, William! Well, they seemed to find out a way of making weapons of metal. Soon after this I seemed to see them covering their bodies with metal to resist the weapons—"
"But, look here,' said William, "would it not have saved trouble, had you originally dreamed them as naturally coated with metal from birth?"
"No!" said James curtly, "the earth has to be enriched somehow. Do hold your tongue, and let me go on! I perceived their bodies coated with metal. Then, a little later, they began to perceive that the weapons needed improvement in order to keep up the proper supply of blood to the soil; and so they agreed to invent fire-arms which would pierce the metal casing. Then, again, in a little while I dreamed that these beings discarded the metal casing altogether—"
"They agreed to invent firearms."
"Soil getting poor again?"
"No, not in the least; but it had become ineffectual as a protection against the firearms."
"What very curious creatures these of yours seem to be!" said William. "One would really think that, instead of agreeing to kill themselves off like this, they would agree once for all to abolish the weapons, and live!"
"I am, I confess, somewhat puzzled about that," said James thoughtfully. "And the fact is, after long observation of their habits, I am not convinced that they desire to live. In fact, evidences point almost conclusively to the contrary. I am inclined to think that the earth they live upon is the one object of their devotion, for which, and to which, they delight to sacrifice themselves and everything else; for I dreamed that they were always ready to sacrifice conscience and—"
"What is that?" asked William. "You ​have not spoken of their having that before."
"No; I was not quite sure what it was. You see, I seemed to hear them continually talking about it as something very valuable—something that ought to fetch a long price; and I fancy it must be an article of commerce. In fact, from what I can glean, it seems that, when the competition between, for instance, the manufacturers of any given nation has become very keen, they begin to part with their 'consciences'—to put them up in the parcels of goods; give them away with a pound of tea, as it were. And I dreamed that certain of the nations—for example, one called 'Great Britain,' and others named 'Germany,' and 'America'—did a very large export trade in these articles. From this I conclude that the article must be a something to fall back upon when the natural resources of a nation—produce and industry—have given out. Let us take it, then, that 'conscience' is a highly prized article of commerce. Well, I say, I dreamed that they were always ready to sacrifice even this article to the soil: every one of them seemed eager to exchange the commodity for the smallest slice of earth; and nations would do anything to obtain an extra bit of the latter. In fact, there seemed to be a fairly definite standard of relative market value between blood, and earth, and conscience—perhaps a quart of the two former, mixed, for a square foot of the latter; or something of that kind.
"But about war. Gradually, I dreamed, the firearms became more and more destructive, while all the elements, and everything in existence, were pressed into the service of war; and so absorbed were my human beings in the perfecting of war that they invented a subsidiary state of affairs called 'Peace,' which, on referring to these creatures' dictionaries, I found to be 'An interval necessary to the effective preparation of war.' The nations were never altogether in their element during these intervals; and, of course, any protracted peace meant the gradual impoverishment of the soil for want of the fertiliser.
"A single human being could destroy a whole nation."
"Well, war seemed to grow ever more terrible; until it came to such a pass that a single human being could destroy a whole nation by simply pressing a small button with his finger. This rendered the thing too wholesale, for it was found that the supply of the fertiliser—(let us speak of it in future under this name, as it is so much less unpleasant)—began to exceed the requirements of the soil, and thus to be rather detrimental to production than otherwise. Then I fancied that all the nations that is, all that was left of them—solemnly consulted about the matter; and I heard talk of a mighty power not long discovered, and then being gradually brought to perfection; and I saw all the nations devote the ensuing interval of peace to destroying their great and complicated machineries of war, which had required so much thought and labour to produce. The enormous guns, with the great cracks in them which had resulted from firing them once to try them, were placed in museums, never more to be used; the great ships which had all, in the course of their regular business, run upon rocks, began to be visited by curious sightseers, who travelled to them on the flying machines which had been constructed as engines of war.
"Then I seemed to perceive, from the ​movements of bodies of human beings, that another war had broken out; and I perceived the armies mustering and going through their exercises; but the whole circumstances and conditions appeared to be entirely changed.
"With great cracks in them."
"There were no weapons—not even an officer carried a sword; there was not a trumpet or a drum. When a regiment or a company had to be mustered, I perceived that a being went and stood, or sat, in utter silence at some point or other; and, after he had remained there a short space, others would approach him as if drawn to him, until the requisite number were collected. Then, without a sound passing, or any sign being made, the mass of them would perform their evolutions; but these evolutions differed entirely from any I had observed in all the periods preceding. Sometimes two files of men would be placed facing each other, and would remain silent and motionless for a considerable time, one file gazing intently at the other; until at length one or other of the two files seemed to waver in its gaze, some of its members occasionally sinking to the ground as if oppressed by sleep; and there the affair would end. At other times whole regiments would be thus placed opposite to each other, with similar results.
"Then I dreamed what seemed to be private practice between the officers; two of them standing face to face in the same way, until one of them began to rub his eyes, or to sink down.
"Many of the battalions were composed of women."
"And then I saw the armies come out from the two nations which were apparently at war, and camp opposite each other; but even now not a sign of any weapon or instrument of war! I was much surprised to see that many of the battalions were composed of women; and I was no less surprised to perceive no ambulance, nor any of those preparations for attending to the wounded which had been so conspicuous formerly. In fact, the whole of this part of my dream puzzled me so much that I paid particular attention to all the details. Early one morning strong coffee and other stimulants were served out to the men, who then proceeded to form into order of battle; that is to say, the contending hosts spread themselves out into two long lines, within a few feet of each ​other, and then deliberately sat down—entirely unarmed—and stared fixedly at one another. As soon as they had settled themselves in this way, the generals' staffs on either side took up their positions on rising ground.
"Then I waited expectantly for the slaughter to commence, but neither side moved a muscle. Presently, however, I perceived something wrong with the left wing of one of the armies; for the soldiers began to sink down to the ground by twos and threes, while others averted their gaze from their opponents, or began rubbing their eyes with their fists. As soon as all this was perceived, there issued suddenly from behind a copse, after the manner of cavalry, a great troop of mummers, jugglers, singers, and others of that kind, among whom were many women; and these, filing in between that wavering left wing and their opponents, began to act stage-plays, and grimace, and sing songs, and perform conjuring feats, apparently with a view to divert the attention of the enemy from the battle. And, indeed, they appeared to succeed in doing so to such an extent that the left wing had opportunity to recover some what and put on a better front, on seeing which the enemy seemed to again fix their gaze more steadily upon them, ignoring the mummers; so that in a short time nearly the whole of the left wing had sunk down to the ground; and from its ranks there went up a mighty sound as of snoring.
"The field of battle."
"Meanwhile, what was apparently a picked reserve, composed of women—which had been hovering in the rear—now came hurriedly forward and sat down in front of the worsted left wing, and fixed their gaze so unblinkingly upon the enemy's right, that, almost in no time, these were snoring, to a man, even more loudly than their opponents. The enemy now began to show signs of wavering all along the line, which became more pronounced as the picked corps, having conquered the enemy's left wing, were now free to direct their attack to other parts of his line.
"The fight continued, however, well into the night, the whole field of action being brilliantly illuminated as soon as dusk set in by electric lights. About midnight the enemy's centre completely gave way, and the picked corps, marching in column through the gap, wheeled, and sat down behind his right wing, which was now exposed to a double fire before and behind, and very soon surrendered at discretion.
"The survivors, now rallying at different points of the field, marched back to camp; making way for the several army service corps, the members of which went hither and thither among the sleeping, covering ​them with cloaks, and making them as comfortable as possible.
"I explored the field of battle early in the morning, and at first the thunder of the snoring so overpowered me that I felt quite dizzy and bewildered; but I became used to it. The sight was a very curious one: on all hands the field was littered with the victims of the battle, lying singly, or—where the fight had been most severe—in heaps. Some lay upon their backs, others upon their noses; some again were curled up into extraordinary attitudes, brought about by their struggles to keep awake. I was afterwards informed that a sharpshooter had effected an entrance into the tent of the general of the defeated army early in the battle and succeeded in putting him to sleep, this being one of the causes of that side's losing the day."
"Ah, yes. This all seems dreadful nonsense—dreadful!" remarked William, complacently. "May I ask by what extraordinary power one of your armies conquered the other in that way?"
"By means of hypnotism," replied James. "A power discovered and utilised by my human beings in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—having also been discovered and utilised some five thousand years previously, and several times before that. It would be the power exercised by one mind over another, by superior force of will——"
"Oh, yes! I think I recollect your saying that your human beings were to possess minds; though their doings, subsequently described, had caused me to forget it. But how beings like those, without mind enough to control their own actions with a decent amount of intelligence, could possibly control the minds of others—well! If, with only their own actions to control, they do anything more intelligent than eat, and kill each other, what kind of result would be arrived at when they had to look after the actions of others, too? I suppose your conquered nation would become the slaves of your conquering nation, eh?"
"Exactly. They would no longer have any will of their own."
"Hum! Well, seeing what your puppets are engaged in doing when they have a will of their own, that would be a change for the better, certainly. But, I say, James, look here, how about the Fertiliser? There would be no bloodshed, and the soil would become—"
"Oh," said James, "at this time artificial chemical fertilisers will be introduced."
"I see. But wouldn't your world very soon get overcrowded, so that it can't possibly support its inhabitants?"
"It would," said James. "That is the very consummation which my human beings would most desire and yearn for. In the later ages, in countries already too full to support their inhabitants, the greatest honour would be paid to those citizens bringing up the largest families, particularly when those families must inevitably be chargeable to the parish. In proportion to the increase of the birth-rate in such countries would be the wildness of the inhabitants' rejoicings."
"Why, first your human beings are mad to reduce their limited numbers by slaughter; and then, as soon as the world is getting over-populated, they are mad to increase their numbers to suffocation and starvation point!"
"Ye-es," said James. "I must confess they have strange ways."
"Strange w—! Well, that's putting it mildly. James, take my word for it, it's a remarkably good thing that these human beings of yours, and these worlds of yours, could never, by any possibility, exist!"
J. F. Sullivan.
SILVER-PLATED.
By W. L. Alden.
HE Etruria was nearing New York, and the prospect of the inevitable interview with the Custom House officers had already cast a gloom over the passengers. For the most part they were silent, and their faces wore an anxious and solemn expression. The Rev. Mr. Waterman, of the Eighth Day Baptist Church, who had bought largely of ready-made clothing in London, even suggested that it might be well to hold a prayer meeting in the saloon.
"The Rev. Mr. Waterman."
A group of half a dozen men were sitting in the lee of one of the deck-houses, smoking silently, when one of the number, a young and sanguine person, suddenly exclaimed:
"I don't believe any honest man ever has any trouble with the Custom House. It's the fellows who want to defraud the Government who make all the complaints."
"What you say may be patriotism, and it may be ignorance——"
"What's the difference?" murmured a cynical interrupter.
"I never tried to defraud the government."
"But," continued the speaker, "it isn't true. I never tried to defraud the Government, but for all that I've had more trouble with the Custom House than if I'd been an honest collector of the port, trying not to mix up politics with the business of the office."
"America expects every man to pay his duty, Colonel," replied the sanguine young man, with a vague reminiscence of Nelson. "Tell us about your trouble, and I rather think you'll have to admit that it was because you didn't want to pay duty on something.
The Colonel was the usual kind of American colonel, and was understood to be a sort of theatrical manager, a position which in the United States entitles a man to the relative rank of colonel in the militia, and commodore in the canal boat service. He had on several occasions shown a know​ledge of music and of professional musicians which had won for him some respect among those of his fellow passengers who did not know the difference between a hurdy-gurdy and a hautboy, and were therefore fond of posing as musical critics. He was a shrewd, good-tempered colonel, and the bar-keeper said that he was the most elegant, high-toned gentleman he had ever crossed with.
"Electricity, gentlemen," resumed the Colonel, "is the biggest thing of the century, but it has its drawbacks. Did any of you ever happen to ride on that electric railroad in Berlin? Well, I have, and most anybody who goes to Berlin is liable to ride on it. It taught me, however, that a man ought to be pretty careful when he trusts himself in an electric car.
"He sat down in a corner of the car."
"It happened in this way. I was an agent in the general show business, and was collecting an opera company for a friend of mine who was going to open in Chicago. I had come across a first-class tenor—found him in a country church choir in Germany and was bringing him home with me under a contract, when he and I took that ride on that Berlin electric road. He was a careless sort of chap, and he sat down in a corner of the car where the electricity had been leaking, and the seat was pretty wet."
"I never knew before," remarked the young man, "that electricity could make a seat wet."
"Probably not," retorted the Colonel. "I should judge that there might be a right smart lot of things that you mightn't know. Most of these gentlemen here, however, have probably heard that nowadays electricity is put up for use in bottles and metallic cans. It stands to reason that anything capable of being put into a bottle is capable of leaking, and wetting whatever it leaks on. If there is anybody here who knows more about bottles than I do, I'm ready to let him tell this story.
"As I was saying, my man sat down in a sort of pool of electric fluid, and sat there for about half an hour. He was wearing in the fob pocket of his trousers a cheap silver watch. I had given it to him so that he might get some exercise, and prevent himself from getting too fat. He never suspected my motive, but he tired himself all out winding it up for two hours every night. Now you may not believe it, but I give you my word that the electricity completely dissolved that watch case, and deposited the silver around the man's waist. He didn't find it out till night, and you never saw a man so scared as when he found that there was a band about four inches wide silver-plated all round his waist. The doctor told him that the only possible way of getting it off would be to dissolve it with acid, but that the acid would eat clean through to his spine and injure his voice. So my tenor had to let bad enough alone, and be satisfied with another ten-and-sixpenny gymnasium, that I gave him to mollify his feelings.
"Silver-plated."
"We came over on the Arizona, and it got around during the passage that my man was silver-plated. There was a Custom-house spy on board, and so it happened that after the tenor had sworn that he had nothing dutiable with him, the inspector ordered him to strip and be personally ex​amined. Of course when this was done, it was discovered that he was silver-plated, and he was held for duty under the general heading in the tariff of 'all other articles, silver-plated or in whole, and not elsewhere enumerated,' and taxed fifty per cent. ad valorem, and fined two hundred and fifty dollars for failing to declare that he was plated. He couldn't pay, and I wouldn't pay, and so he was locked up in a bonded warehouse, and I went to consult my lawyer.
"I laid all the facts before him, and told him I would pay him handsomely if he could get my man out of the Custom-house without paying either duty or fine. Now the lawyer knew the tariff from beginning to end, and if any man could help me I knew he could. He didn't promise anything at first, but he discussed the question by and large, and in all its bearings.
"'I'm afraid,' said he, 'that there is no hope of getting your friend out without paying duty, but we may succeed in having him classified so as to make the duty very low. For instance, you say the man is a professional singer. Now we might have him classed as a musical instrument, and taxed forty-five per cent. ad valorem. By the bye, what did you agree to pay him?"
"'I agreed to pay him,' says I, 'a hundred dollars per week.'
"'That's bad,' says the lawyer. 'A hundred dollars a week is fifty-two hundred per year, which is about the interest at six per cent. on eighty-seven thousand dollars. You wouldn't like to pay forty-three or four thousand dollars duty on him.'
"'I'd see him sent to Congress first!' says I.
"'Very well,' says the lawyer. 'Then perhaps we could classify him as machinery, or parts thereof. But you wouldn't save much in that way. You'd have to pay forty per cent. ad valorem, and very likely the appraisers would say that you had undervalued the man, and would value him at double what your contract seems to say he is worth. They're bound to protect American machinery against the pauper labour of Europe every time."
"How would it do to classify him as old family plate?"
"'How would it do to classify him as old family plate?' said I.
"'Worse and worse,' said the lawyer. 'He'd have to pay sixty per cent., and you'd have a good deal of difficulty in proving that he is old family plate. Of course it could be done, but it would probably cost you more than the whole amount of the duty. They're a perfectly honest set of men, the appraisers, and they naturally come high.'
"'What will I do, then?' says I; 'let him die in the Custom-house and then sue for damages?'
"'There might be something worth while done in that way,' says the lawyer, 'but it would be middling hard on the man. But I'll tell you what we can do. Didn't you say that the man was singing in a church choir when you hired him?'
"'I did so,' says I.
"'All right,' says the lawyer. 'We'll ​classify him as "an article used in the service of religion," and get him in free of any duty whatever. You go and get him an engagement in a church without an hour's delay, and then come to me. We'll beat the Custom-house this time, sure enough.'
"I got the man an engagement to sing for a week in a Methodist meeting-house, and before the week was out he was decided to be an article used in the service of religion, and was returned to me free of duty, and cursing the head off of every officer in the revenue service. The end of it was that my tenor claimed that I had broken my contract by setting him to sing in a church, and he sued me for damages, and got them too. So you see, my young friend, that a man may have trouble with the Custom-house who does not want to defraud the Government out of anything, not even the duty on that sealskin sack that I hear you have taken apart and packed in a spare pair of boots."
TWO VIEWS OF LORD PALMERSTON.
We here present, as a curiosity, two views of Lord Palmerston, of which, it will be noted, the back view is as interesting and characteristic as the front one, taken by Mr. Samuel A. Walker, of 230, Regent-street, W. The photographs were required as a guide to a sculptor in modelling a statuette, photographs of which we also give.
| What is the cause of all this excitement? | The national game, of course. |
I. Pat was proud of them. They only cost him 8s. 6d.; but wasn't the "cut" worth a £1,000 a year to him? II. Pat Junior—with a little tucking in—fell into them after fifteen months. Horoo! It was a grand saving in vests! III. Buttoned over the shoulders the puzzle was to find Dennis. "Bedad! But ye can't bate 'em fer kaping 'is little shirt clane," says his mother. IV. Little Mike wears them now, fastened up with fasionable rosettes on the shoulders. Pat says when Mike grows out of them he intends using them as bicycle breeches.
| "My boy! Let me show you how to stand on that spring-board." | But he forgot all about his weight. |