The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1906-07-15

Al
August issue of Appleton's Magazine.)
a GRAY mist hung over land and |
"a sea, and a fine rain shlvered |
- - down upon the somber build |
ings of the city, and the turbid waters
sd ehs sa1E e Of he the seamer hS
looked about silently and seriously,
with eager eyes in which cleaned hope
HWho is thissT asked Polish girl
in tone Of amazement, pointing to
the status of Liberty Sons SDav one fTHm
American Goddess
looked at this goddess with the
feeling of an idolater. Before my mem
ory flashed the brilliant names of
Thomas Jefferson and Of Grant.
''The land of liberty!'' | repeated to
myself, not noticing on that glorious
I knew even then that "The War
for the Abolition Of Slavery is now
called in America "The War for the
Preservation of the Union.' But 1 did
not know that in this change Of words
psssd aaasn de afR me Of be THAT
democracy had also become covered
with rust, like the bronze statue, eat
ing away the soul with the corrosive
of commercialism. The senseless
craving for money and the shameful
craving for the power that money
suffer everywhere. But / did not real
lie that this dread disease had as
sumed such proportions in America.
The Treadmiil of Toll. !
The tempestuous turmoil of life: on
the water at the foot of the statue OF !
Liberty, and in the city on the shore,
or he nd
sense of impotence. Everywhere, like
antediluvian monsters, huge, heavy
steamers pillow the waters of the ocean,
little boats and cutters scurry about
like hungry birds of prey. The iron
seems endowed with nerves, life and
consciousness. z....- =
And it seems as if all the iron, all
the stones, the wood and water, and
even the people themselves are full of
protest against this life in the fog, this
life devoid of SUM-, song and Joy TINS TINS
life in the captivity of hard toll
caught up in its whirlwind, everybody
obeys the will of some mysterious
power hostile to man and to nature.
A machine, a cold, unseelng, unreason-
ing machine, in which man is but an In
significant screw!
L love energy. adore 1t. but not
when men expend this creative force
of theirs for their own destruction.
There is too much labor and effort, and
DO life in all this chaos, in all this
hustle for the sake of piece of bread.
Everywhere we see around us the work
of the mind which has made Of human
life a sort of hell, senseless tread
mill of labor, but nowhere do we feel
the beauty Of free creation, the disin-
terested work of the spirit which beau
titles life with imperishable flowers of
ife-giving cheer.
Independence Phantom,
Far out on the shore, silent and dark
"skyscrepers' are outlined against the
beautiful, these dull, heavy piles rise
up into the sky, stern, cheerless and
morose. In the w1ldows of these pris-
ons there are no flowers, and no chill
dren are anywhere seen. These struc-
lures elevate the price Of land to
base the taste to depths as low as their
foundations. 1t is always so. In great
houses dwell small people. -
From afar the city looks like huge
jaw with black, uneven teeth. It belches
forth clouds Of smoke into the sky, and
shifts like a glutton suffering from
overcorpulency. When you enter it you
ach Of brick and iron which swallows
up millions df people, and churns
grinds and digests them.
The people walk along the pave
ments They push hurriedly forward
all hastily driven by the same force
that enslaves them. But their faces
are calm, their hearts do not feel the
misfortune of being slaves; indeed, by
tragic self-conceit, they yet fee
themselves its masters. In their eyes
CLEANS a consciousness Of independ
ence, but they do not know it is but
the sorry independence of the ak in
the hands Of the woodman, Of the
hammer in the hands of the black.
smith. This liberty is the tool in the
hands of the yellow devil-gold In.
ner freedom, freedom Of the heart and
soul, is not seen en- in their energetic
liberty is like the glitter of new
knife which has not yet had time to
be dulled, it is like the gloss of a new
rope -,
Unhappy New York.
It is the first time that I have seer
such huge city monster; nowhere
have. the people appeared to me so un
fortunate, SO thoroly epslaved to life
as in New York. And furthermore, no
where have / seen them so tragi-comi
cally self-satisied as in this huge phan
tasmagoria of stone iron and glass. thi
product Of the sick and wasted imagin
alton of Mercury and Pluto. And look
ing upon this life, I began. to thinl
that in the hand of the statue Of Bar
tholdi there blazes not the torch O.
liberty, but the dollar.
The large number of monuments j
the city parks testifes to the prid
which its Inhabitants take: in thei
g great men, These statues covere.
with a veil of dirt involuntarily fore