The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1901-01-20

4
mental grievance of imaginative persons
but it IS aot SO: IL IS a loss which must
/ impress its vacuity fatally upon the hu-
/ man mind and character. II tends, more
/ than any other loss. to produce that ap-
athy, dependency and cynical indinsr-
( ence which are so largely charact ersS tic
/ Of the modern temner.
Beauty Is daily more and more with
drawn from The general life Of the D O
/ pc. Fidgety and repre- ssive bylaws
tend TO suppress that element Of the
picturesque which popular life. by its
1 liberties, ard by its open-air pastlme
I and peddlings, created for itself The
police are everywhere. and street life is
! j0yless and coIOrless- Even within doors,
/ in the houses Of pcor peope the things
of daily usage have lost their oid-worf1
charm; the ugly sewing machine has re-
placed the spinning wheel. the cooking
I range the spacious open hearth. the ve-
neered machine-made furniture the soil /
! homemade oaken chests and presses a
half-penny newspaper the old family B.
bic, while out Of doors the lads and las.
ses must not sing or dance the dog
must not play or bark. the chair must
not stand out on he pavement, the bells
must not ring their chimes. only the
+ cycIist, or the automobiist. iord Of all
may tear along and leave broken limbs
and bruised flesh OF others behind him
+ at his pleasure.
/ Follow the architectural history OF any
city, and you find it during the last half
T century the sorrowfu1 record of a pitiful
/ destruction The great gardens are al
ways the first thing sacrificed. They are
swept away and their places covered BY
brick and mortar with incredible indif-
/ ference Fine houses. even when of re-
( cent construction. ike thei Pompeiian
/ houses of Prince Napoleon ir Paris are
pulled down out Of a mere speculative
mania TO build something else. or 10 cut
& long, straight street as embarrassing
and as unsuggestive as the lockwood pro-
tractor which lies on a surveyor desk
~ The greatest crime. or one OF the
&Featest crimes Ger there are others
black as night, Of which the nineteenth
century has been guilty, has been the
driving of the people cut Of long-familiar
homes in the name and under the pre-
text Of hygiene. but in fact fer the en-
richment of the contractors. town coun-
cillors and spectators of every kind It
began with Haussmann; it has continued
in Paris. and everywhere else. with de-
lirious haste ever since mis- time as a
burglar may drag a greyhound TO his
death. The modern aediles with their
court of. ravenous parasites cannot IN
slider, the sorrow OF a humble citizen
driven out of familiar little home with
hooks and corners filled with memories
and roof-tree dear to generations. Go
into an old street of any old city you
VIII, and yOu viii almost certainly find
a delight for the eve in archwav and
Ogive. in Intel and easement. in winding
stair and leaning cave in the wall-fow-
ers rooted in the STEPS. in the capgicum
that has seeded itself between the
stones. in the swallows nests under the
gargoyle, in the pots of basil and mig
nonette on the window stills But the
modern street. with its dreary monotony.
its long and high blank spaces. its
even surfaces where not a seed can cling
or bird can build what viii it say 10
your eyes or your heart2 You Will see
its dull pretentious uniformity repeated
on either side of you down a mile-long
vista. and you viii curse il.
Admit that the poorer people were i'll
lodged In the Middle Ages. that the
houses were iIl-lit. undrained. with the
gutter water splashing the threshold and
the caves of the opposite houses so near
that the sun could not penetrate into
the street. All this may have been so.
but around two-thirds of the town were
gardens and fields. the ueighboring
streets were fun of painted shrines. met
al lamps. gargoyles, pinnacles. balconies
of hand-forged iron or hand-carved
stone, solid hoors. bronzed gates. richly
colored frescoes; and the eyes and the
hearts of the jewellers in them had
wherewithal to feed on with pleasure. not
to speak Of the constant stream Of many
colored costume and Of varied pageant
or procession which was forever passing
through them
The modern world is at this moment
ruled by two enemies Of all beauty;
these are commerce and militarism.
What the one does not destroy the other
tramples under foot In earlier times
war, terrible always. was beautiful. Ike
its goddess Bellona. in its savage sp1en-
dor. It's camps. its troops its standards
its panoply. were all full Of color and
pomp. Even as late as the Napoleouic
wars its aWfulness was blended with
beauty. Now the passage Of an army Is
like the course of so many dirty luggage
trains filed with bales Of wool or ham
pers of fish It's monstrous nav lcks
up all loneliness as all life which 1t finds
in its way. It's frightful steel cylinders
belch death on every gracious and happy
thing. It Is unenIivened By pageantry,
as il is unredeemed nv courtesy. Bel
Iona is no more a goddess but a bag.
Every invention Of what Il called
science takes the human race further
and further from nature, nearer and
nearer 10 an artificial. unnatural and
dependent state. One seems to hear the
laugh of Goethe's MeDhistopheies behind
the hiss Ct steam; and in the tinkle Of
the electric be1 there turks the chuckie
OF gles with which the Tempter sees the
human fools take "a boon and q tri-
umpH the fatal sifts he has given.
What shall IT profit a man II he gain
the whole world and lose his own soul2
What shall it profit the world 70 puff
girdle about its loins IN forty minutes
when il snail have become a desert ~
stone, a wilderness Of streets. q treefess
waste. eonciess CITY. where man shall
have destroyed all life except his onn
and can hear no echo ~ his hearts pull
satiou save In the thro5 of an iron
piston 2-Ouida