The Newtown bee., 1902-08-15

denouncedfthe church lottery, whence came his salary. This was indeed a superb opportunity, for the parson read from the pulpit the anti-lottery laws of Massachusetts. His people replied with departed pussy-cats, and the par son not unnaturally sought fresh fields and pastures new.
 From these picturesque circum- stances l trust you will draw the lOgi cal conclusion. The degenerate vil- lage-with it's diminishing population, its increasing poverty, it's abandoned farms, it's immortality, it's really ap- palling percentage of idiots and de formed persons, and it's fatalistic con- tentment with things as they are-is not to be redeemed by the mere liter ary or clerical philanthropistS. No, you must first get power in such a village. power that the villagers can't shake off.
 My friend the parson, I think, has hit it. He has found new settlement in the valley, and there, in a very woe begone village, he has begun to make himself master. ParSon he remains, but man of business he has become. He now operates a thriving printShop, and his pay is a bait the natives won't scorn. He doesn't get bis living out of his church; he gets it out of his shop, and as long as he brings money into the pockets of the villagers by giv- ing them employment, his we'll will be free from departed pussy-cats. He isn't an interloper, he isn't a depend ent. Instead he is wealth producer and part of the social organism. He can make realm and reign, organiz- ing the whole community around him. self and gradually bringing it up into higher and decenter order of exist ence. He is worth seventeen mere parsons or rSeventy-Seven Self-appOinted social settlers.
 Suppose, now, that you should % and try an experiment. like that: What problems would you face? In ten min utes or less you would perceive that poverty is at the bottom of all other social ills. The farms are played out, there are practically no industries, and for generations the ambitious have been driven away from the village in Very well; you begin to found indus tries: A print shop? Why not? Elbert Hubbard is coining money out of his East Aurora establishment; my parson friend is doing the same thing on a small scale in Western Massachusetts. Then, too, my industrial parson has gone in for handmade furniture, which can be cheaply and beautifully produc. ed by country labor. He has also a plan to develop hand-loom work, and lots of other things when the time comes. Furthermore, he intends tc buy up an abandoned farmstead and re- of intensive farming. This will not only yield him good financial return but will at the same time serve as an object lesson to farmers round about You will also observe, as direct re. l suit of poverty, state of general so | cial stagnatiOn. The village is morbid suspicious, ill-tempered, and lacks the l first requisites of concerted action. That is because it is so poor. People | rarely go calling-the roads are tof bad, there aren't any sidewalks, the streets are not lighted, and wher evening comes there is a natural de- sire to keep in out of the darkness and the mud: Social gatherings, lectures and musical affairs are prohibited be- cause the town can't afford to build 8 suitable hall. Consequently people rarely meet; they know one another so little that all sorts of cruel stories get credence; almost everybody feels that he is being victimized by local gossip. The remedy for such distressing con- ditions is simply to make the town prosperous. Then will come good roads, sidewalks, street lights a social hall. Sociability will not longer be impossible. And with sociability brought back to life there will be less gossip than before and vastly less malice and suspicion.
 A distinguished scientist and author once told me his explanation of the soa cial stagnation that prevails in deca. dent villages. "They are priest-rd. den," said he, ''the clergy have forbid card playing, dancing, amateur the atricals, till the only possible things that can bring people together socially have been scrupulously wiped out of existence That is true and untrue. The country preachers branded every form Of pleasure as vicious, but, thank Heaven, the country preachers have now lost the power of enforcing their ascetic principles. Asceticism is en- forced to-day by the lack of opportun. ity for anything better.
 Moreover, you will soon enough per- celve the close relationship between the pleasurelessness of the count try, and the wickedness of the coun try. Vice, malice, and the incentive to crime find easy entrance into lives that are deprived of normal recreation. I have sometimes declared-and pray pardon the hyperbole-that weekly bull-fght would be moral and spirit ual benefit to dead village. It would at least suggest something to think about besides family feuds, personal