Chapter I: DESIRE not to disgrace the soul. The fact that I am here certainly (5)

Many who are familiar with the diplomatic and social life of our European capitals have stated that the high-caste Turkish woman of today is _as a class_ more highly educated, and also more feminine, in the tenderest and most refined meaning of the term, than any other woman in the world. She not only knows the history, geography, and literature of her own and foreign nations, but in addition knows two, three, and often four languages besides her own--always French and German, usually English, and often Italian or Russian--languages which she does not speak haltingly but with fluency and perfection, for in the wealthier Turkish families of today French, German, and English governesses are a recognized institution. She is very beautiful, always refined, unobtrusively thoughtful of others, and supremely loyal to her ideals of character and duty--and her ideals always center about the home.

Yet her life is virtually an imprisoned one, bounded as it is, day and night, year in and year out, by the four walls of the women's apartment or _harem_. She cannot go out unattended in the daytime, nor in the evening at all; she may not attend theaters nor even a concert; she may not attend social or other gatherings where men are present.

This state of things was not so unendurable to the women of the preceding generation, for they had not been permitted to embrace European ideas through an education on European lines, but to the high-caste woman of today, who has been given a glimpse into a larger world than her own, and a world very wonderful and alluring, the old _harem_ existence is almost intolerable. Yet she must continue in it for a time, and here is the wonderful thing--she does this, in the deeper sense, willingly.

Those who know her best tell us that out of the silence and seclusion of her life, the Turkish woman has evolved a philosophy of her own, and one that is not limited to the orthodox Muslim view of woman; those who know life and humanity best know also that this could never have come to her past the impenetrable barriers of caste and orthodox religious doctrine, had she not attuned her life to some, at least, of the higher notes of Life Universal. And it is the teaching of Theosophy that this can only be done by those with whom duty is the highest ideal--duty, for ever and ever, _duty_. In a heroic determination to do her whole duty to husband and family, to nation and to home, the Turkish woman may well be commended to that ultra-modern type who leaves husband and children to their own devices while she is away, chasing some will-o'-the-wisp or fad. Of this type Turkey is yet as destitute as certain strata of European and American life are prolific.

The Turkish woman is wise enough to wait in trust the day of her complete emancipation, and she feels it is approaching--but she also knows that to push or hurry it forward would invoke a reaction that might ruin her country and defeat her hopes. She knows that methods even approaching those of the modern "suffragette" would only blot the golden dawn and put back until a later cycle the glorious day. We see now why the members of this deputation wore the orthodox veil, or partly why, for no Turkish woman of the educated class is unaware that to needlessly offend the conservative element is to fetter the Young Turk movement, that evolving drama of national life in which woman played so heroic a part. Says a current writer:

Everybody agrees that the most remarkable change in social conditions caused by the revolution in Turkey has occurred among the feminine portion of the population, and it is conceded that the wives and mothers of the Young Turk party had a powerful influence in bringing it about. During the anxious months of conspiracy and preparation many high-born Turkish ladies worked with courage, enthusiasm and intelligence for the cause of liberty. Some of them acted as messengers, carrying concealed about their persons papers which, if discovered, would have been their death; others afforded the revolutionary committees opportunities for holding their meetings, and furnished those who were in danger means of escape. Twelve thousand spies in the employ of Abdul Hamid were unable to outwit the women of Turkey in this work, and the leaders of the Young Turk party concede that they owe their success largely to the assistance of their wives and sisters and mothers.

In that intimate blending of heroic self-abnegation and of wisdom which characterizes the efforts and the daily life of the typical high-caste Turkish woman, the world has offered for its reading a great lesson. The Ottoman woman possibly has found her intuition, which is the soul's own voice, and her will, which is "the soul at work." Pain, misunderstanding, oppression, and heartache, have opened many doors in the chambers of her being, and in wrestling with the angel of untoward circumstance she has found the inner power that enables one to turn the leaden fetters about one's feet into the golden sandals of Hermes himself. If this has come about, and those who know the Ottoman woman best declare that it has, then we know that it is because she has striven to attune her life to that which must be the keynote of all lasting feministic reform--womanliness--true womanliness, with its overtones of tenderness, compassion and aspiration, and its deepening undertones of solid attainment, of patriotism, of courage, of loyalty to one's ideal, and of faithfulness to duty.

AN ENGLISH LADY'S LETTER: by F. D. Udall (London)

Pevensey Castle is one of the most interesting of all the ancient and historic castles of old England. It was seized by William the Conqueror immediately he landed in the bay close by, and he left a garrison to hold it while he pushed on to Hastings and subsequently to the country round about the "hoar apple tree" mentioned in the Saxon Chronicle, where the decisive engagement with Harold and his army took place. This spot, ever since commemorated in the name of the village--Battle--is some seven miles inland. Harold had taken care to leave a garrison, too, at Pevensey, while he went north, but according to Freeman, William found the place wholly undefended or else with a force totally inadequate to resist the Normans. At all events there appears to have been no resistance offered to the invaders, on that fateful Michael's Eve. The castle and land for miles around eventually became the property of the Conqueror's half-brother.

How old the castle is nobody knows. British coins have been discovered at Pevensey, and it is thought that the place was an ancient British settlement. As to the castle itself, the general opinion is that it was built by the Romans, and the many Roman coins found in its precincts, chiefly of the Constantine family, give support to the theory. In the days of the venerable Bede there was a great forest in these parts, the forest of Anderida, roamed by herds of deer and swine. Pevensey is first mentioned in historical documents in the year 792, when its owner--generous man!--gave it away, together with Hastings, to the Abbey of St. Denis at Paris. Sir John Pelham was appointed Constable of the Castle in the reign of Edward III, and his courageous wife held it during a siege in her husband's absence, in the following reign, in 1399. This lady gives the old ruins an interest of quite another character from their warlike associations by reason of a letter she dispatched to her husband during that siege. He was up in Yorkshire at the time. The letter has come down through the centuries--a brave, sweet, womanly, wifely relic of those early days in "our rough island story." It enjoys the honor of being enshrined in Hallam's _Literature of Europe_, and well it deserves the distinction. Here is what the lady wrote while the enemy was at the gate.

MY DEAR LORD:

I recommend me to your high lordship with heart and body and all my poor might, and with all this I thank you as my dear lord, dearest and best beloved of all earthly lords, I say for me, and thank you, my dear lord, with all this that I say before of your comfortable letter that ye sent me from Pontefract, that come to me on Mary Magdalene day (July 22); for by my troth I was never so glad as when I heard by your letter that ye were strong enough with the grace of God for to keep you from the malice of your enemies. And, dear lord, if it like to your high lordship that as soon as ye might that I might hear of your gracious speed; which God Almighty continue and increase. And, my dear lord, if it like you for to know of my fare, I am here by laid in manner of a siege with the county of Sussex, Surrey, and a great parcel of Kent, so that I may nought out, nor none victuals get me but with much hard. Wherefore, my dear, if it like you by the advice of your wise counsel for to set remedy of the salvation of your castle, and withstand the malice of the shires aforesaid. And also that ye be fully informed of their great malice workers in these shires, which that haves so despitefully wrought to you, and to your castle, to your men, and to your tenants for this country, have yai (sic) wasted for a great while. Farewell, my dear lord; the Holy Trinity you keep from your enemies, and soon send me good tidings of you.

Written at Pevensey in the Castle on St. Jacob day (St. James, July 25) last past,

By your own poor,
J. Pelham.

To my true lord.

A MAGIC PLACE: A Forest Idyll for Young Folks: by M. Ginevra Munson

Who has not felt the inspiring and soothing influence of certain quiet spots? as though the jarring and restless forces of nature were there rendered impotent and the soul could commune freely with the great heart-life of all. The conflicting vibrations of human thought are annulled and nature speaks in whatever language you choose: in song or verse, art or science. How it draws one up to the heights of infinitude to sit in solitude, with eye on the expanse of ocean in which is mirrored all the gorgeous tints and cloud-forms in the sky at sunset; or on mountain heights where no sounds or sights except the blue dome overhead and the distant landscape beneath, can distract the mind from the sense of the invisible Presence that fills all space; or in the depths of a noble forest where the foot of man seldom comes.

It was in such a place as this, surrounded by the elves and fairies of the wood, that Helena, in the company of her father and a few other artist spirits, pitched their tents for summer work in the stillness of the forest; sculptors, painters, poets, musical composers, and writers on various themes, each lived in the quiet and privacy of his own domicile, out of sight or hearing of any other.

Helena was the daughter of a poet and inherited that keen sense of communion with and understanding of nature's moods and voices, but had never before been in such a place as this, having been born near a thriving city. She was devoted to her father, and though only yet in her early teens, showed such appreciation of her father's work that he brought her along with him as a sort of mentor when reading his poems over. Then too, her mother was dead, and he felt it his duty to keep Helena under his own care as much as possible, as she was an only child. Nothing could have made her happier or have been better for her than this forest air and odor of fragrant wood, and her spirits and health responded to it gratefully. While her father was busy she wandered about, making companions of the birds, trees, and other forest-life. The inspiration and magic of the place was so great that she was seized with the desire to express the joy and budding knowledge that stirred within her soul; so without saying anything to her father, she would take out tablet and pencil and sit on a fallen log near the singing brook that ran close by, and write down the daily dialog she heard going on around her. Overhead the trees said to the birds: "Are you happy my pretty ones, fluttering and hopping from twig to branch, pluming your feathers as I sway and swing you about?" "Oh yes, dear trees," twittered the birds, "and we will be diligent in destroying the worms that prey on your beautiful leaves, while we sing to you our thanks for the lacy bowers and secret hiding-places for our nests of young birdlings, who take their first lessons in song from the music of the breeze through your branches"; and then they poured forth a chorus in greater glee than ever.

Up in a high fork of the great spreading top of an oak was a huge nest of dead leaves, from one edge of which peered a pair of bright eyes in a furry gray head, over which curled a bushy gray and white tail. A chattering voice chimed in with the birds: "Dear trees, I too love you, for with your leaves for my nest you provide me a home out of reach of all harm, and you feed me with lovely acorns in such abundance that I can store up enough for the whole round year; but I'm sorry I can return so little back to you, save a grateful heart."

"Oh, thanks, I am safe home," said a bounding cotton-tail rabbit, as he shot into the protecting walls of a hollow log. "What would I do if it were not for the deserted trunk of a tree; and even the live ones sometimes give me a home in a hole in their bodies, quite low enough down for me to jump into, yet too small and deep for intruders to poke their noses in very far."

"Yes, yes, I too," chirped a striped ground squirrel, "owe all my comforts to the trees, and no one can find my cosy nest of pine needles, so fragrant and clean."

An old sly fox ran swiftly by, saying: "O shelter me in your depths, dark forest, for I hear the bay of a hound on the scent of my track," then he jumped the purling stream to cut off the lead of the dog, and sped away.

As Helena glanced down the stream she saw a beaver working away on a pile of logs and heard him murmur: "What would I do if the trees did not furnish me logs for my dam? Nothing else would serve me so well, I am sure, and I only cut down young saplings where they are too crowded to thrive. In turn for the favor I will make the stream deeper so the water will not dry away in hot weather, but will give drink to the tree roots all the year through."

Away in the distance Helena spied the red-brown coat of a deer and heard its call to the fawn. Out from a tangled mass of vines and low swaying branches bounded the spotted young beauty, and answered back: "Here mother-deer, the forest has safely sheltered me, and fed me too on sweet young sassafras shoots. May I now take a run with you?"

Then Helena gazed in the stream at the fishes, who answered her thought: "Yes, we too would perish were it not for the shady pools that reflect the lacy network of the trees that draw down the rain from heaven to fill the stream and keep the water fresh."

Filled with wonder at these voices of the woods, Helena realized that though it seemed so silent it was full of song and happy life, but that the love and harmony of these beings made the magic of the place and filled it with peace and soul-inspiring influences. While she meditated and watched the bees gathering sweets from the fragrant wood-violets and wild-plum blossoms, she heard a voice so startlingly loud that she jumped with surprise. It said "Who? Who? Who----o?" and seemed to come from the very tree tops. While looking up in wonder, Helena saw a great, fluffy cream-colored bird with brownish bars on its wings and a big round head with two enormous yellow eyes, float noiselessly away through the forest. Could that voice have come from the bird? "What did he say 'Who? Who? Who----?' It seemed to question me, asking to whom were all these creatures, as well as myself, beholden? Why, yes, every voice spoke of love for and indebtedness to the trees. They stand here so silently and majestically through ages, affording food, shelter, shade, and protection, for all these other beings whose very lives depend upon them. The dear trees are monarchs over all, yet serve all, standing here with their roots fast in the soil and their heads touching the sun-bright heavens. To us people too, though we may live in cities and never know or think of the forest trees, we could scarcely live without them. Our houses, our furniture, and almost everything that is of use or convenience to us have some wood about them; and then we enjoy the nuts, the fruit, and other kinds of food produced by the trees as much as the squirrels and birds, no doubt. Perhaps these trees bring down from higher regions other forces that feed our souls also--Who? Who Who----o knows?"

"Yes, now I understand," thought Helena, "why the great Initiates, Masters and Saviors of the world, were called '_Trees_.' Jesus was called 'the Tree of Life,' and the Initiates spoken of in the Bible, 'the Cedars of Lebanon.' They stand and serve and protect."

Then Helena remembered that she had read in her Scandinavian Mythology that trees were formed from the hair of the giant Ymir, in the creation of the world. "His blood formed the oceans and rivers; his bones the mountains; his teeth the rocks and cliffs; and his hair, the trees." Also that "the universe springs from beneath the branches of the world-tree Yggdrasil, the tree with three roots."

Helena must certainly have been sitting on a branch or root of the tree of wisdom when getting into such a deep strain of thought. The spirit of the forest had awakened her soul to the realization of the fact of Brotherhood in Nature too, the give and take, the unity and inseparable life of the denizens of the wood that made it such a magic place. She also saw why the tree was made a symbol of universal life, for all other life in the world is really somewhat dependable upon the trees.

"No wonder," Helena thought, as she walked back to her father's bungalow, "no wonder there is such magic in the depth of the forest, and that father comes here to get in touch with the _soul of things_. That is why 'tis said that 'Poetry is the true language of the soul.'"

CURRENT TOPICS: by Observer

The recent theft of the famous _Mona Lisa_ of Leonardo da Vinci from the Louvre, which is such a loss to the artistic world, has brought to light the fact that many other valuable works of art have been stolen from the Louvre and other public museums without any arrests following. One thief is reported as having admitted that he lately stole many small pieces of sculpture from the Phoenician gallery in the Louvre and sold them for trifling sums. He lately returned a statuette to the museum in return for a payment, and the authorities admitted that it was actually one from their collection. Three years ago there were forty sculptured heads in one of the cases; now there are about twenty! There seems to be no hope of regaining the _Mona Lisa_ at present, but, just as the famous _Duchess of Devonshire_ of Gainsborough was restored after many years upon the payment of heavy blackmail, it is possible that the robbers will take some favorable opportunity of realizing a large sum by the return of Leonardo's masterpiece.

* * * * *

FOR the first time since the creation of the French Academy at Rome, a woman has been admitted as a student at the Villa Medici. Mlle. Lucienne Heuvelmans, the successful winner of the famous "Prix de Rome" for sculpture, had to compete against nine other contestants, but her remarkable ability compelled the judges to decide in her favor and to establish an entirely new precedent. Her subject was _The Sister of Orestes Guarding her Brother's Sleep_.

* * * * *

THE Norwegian Academy of Sciences has just recognized the claim of woman to admission to that body for the first time, by admitting Miss Kristine Bonnevin of Christiania, a doctor of philosophy and an eminent zoologist. She is Conservator of the Zoological laboratory of the Christiania University, and has produced several interesting scientific works in Norway, Germany, and the United States.

* * * * *

A COMPLETE revision of the rules of the road is being made in France. Instead of vehicles keeping to the right, as has hitherto been the custom, they will now have to travel on the left side of the road. This will bring France into line with Great Britain and most other European countries, and will be a great advantage for many automobilists and cyclists touring in France, for the difficulty of breaking through the automatic habit of turning to the left when another vehicle approaches is very great to those who have been accustomed to keeping on that side. Americans, who obey the rule of keeping to the right, will however find the new French regulation irksome. It is claimed that the rule of the left is more sensible for many reasons.

* * * * *

THE French people seem very quick to modify old-established customs when something they consider better is offered. They lately adopted Greenwich Observatory (England) as the place of first meridian for time and nautical calculations, as it was shown to be practically advantageous; they did not let an exaggerated patriotism stand in the way, though it may be questioned whether the change would have been made a few years ago, before the _entente cordiale_ between France and England had been established, to which the indefatigable efforts of King Edward VII so largely contributed.

* * * * *

EVERYONE who has read Irving's _Alhambra_ and has felt the charm of that delightfully romantic account of the celebrated Moorish palace in Granada, will be glad to hear that the Spanish Government is taking active measures to remove the débris which has collected during the last several centuries and to clear out the watercourses, and otherwise prevent the famous masterpiece of Moorish architecture from falling to ruin. Many interesting antiquities have been discovered and the finds have been removed to the old palace of the Emperor Charles V, which is being turned into a museum. Beautiful arabesque decorations have been discovered in unexpected places, and a hitherto unknown staircase has been laid bare, leading to a large system of underground vaults.

* * * * *

IT is difficult to realize that it is only six years ago since the Wrights made their first flight of eleven miles in a power-driven aeroplane, and now we are reading of attempts to fly across the United States from ocean to ocean, and speeds of over a hundred miles an hour for long distances are continually being made. The days of racing and sensational exhibitions are apparently nearing an end, for a demand is arising for less flimsy aeroplanes which can be used for practical purposes. It will certainly be many years before the art of aviation arrives at perfection, and before it becomes as safe and practicable to travel by air-line as by train or automobile. Nothing but careful and scientific experimenting, free from the sensational element, can bring this about. The days of the big gas-bag type of flying machine, the dirigible, seem to be numbered, for the numerous accidents which have happened to these machines, even when directed with the greatest skill and caution, have greatly disappointed their supporters. A mere puff of wind, which would have presented no terrors to a heavier-than-air machine, destroyed the British naval dirigible lately. Its cost--about $400,000--would have paid for eighty of the best aeroplanes of the heavier-than-air-type.

The lifting power of the air is being utilized in man-carrying kites for war-scouting purposes, and they have proved quite practicable. They have been adopted by the British navy and are now being tried in that of the United States. Large six-sided box-kites are used; the total pull of fifteen of these, carrying a man in a boatswain's chair, is more than two thousand pounds. At the height of four hundred feet observations covering a range of some forty miles can be made.

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THE celebrated Boston Symphony Orchestra completed its thirtieth year of existence and uninterrupted success on Oct. 22. At the last Symphony Concert of the Harvard Musical Association in Boston, in March, 1881, a Concert Overture was conducted by the composer, Georg Henschel, whose brilliant performance attracted the attention of Major H. L. Higginson, a music-lover who had for several years been maturing a new scheme of symphony concerts, and who was willing and able to subsidize it out of his own pocket. He was only waiting to find the orchestral conductor in whom he could have sufficient confidence. The Harvard Musical Association, then more than twenty years old, had been gradually declining in popularity, and he saw that there was an opening for a really first-class orchestra in Boston. Large audiences were attracted from the very first, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra has advanced from success to success. Its twenty-four annual performances now fill a very large place in the musical life of Boston, and the orchestra has now a double fame and a double audience, for it gives ten concerts yearly in New York, where it is equally popular. Of the original seventy members four are still playing in the orchestra, which at present numbers one hundred and one.

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IT is surprising that there is so much misapprehension in Western lands about the real character of the Turkish people. During the present difficulty with Italy many most exaggerated charges have been made against the Turks, which those who know them best deny with indignation. A writer in _The Boston Transcript_ has just published an article which is unusually fair and which is marked with a due appreciation of the weakness of our frenzied manner of life which we call civilization. A few quotations will be of interest to all who are not prejudiced against the "heathen." Mr. Cobb, the writer, says:

No people in the world are more likeable than the Turks. They are kindly, honest, and generous-hearted.... The English and Americans who live among the Turks like them--come to feel a real affection for them.

To the charge that they are cruel, he assents, but he says that the reason is that they possess to a marked degree the Oriental indifference to physical pain, and that, above all, they are still in the condition we were during the later middle ages.

It is only a few centuries ago that we too held life and suffering in little value.... We burnt men at the stake in order to save their souls.... Even within two or three centuries we could have found in England the prototype of the modern Turk--the cultured English gentleman, the kindly, dignified merchant, who could witness with calmness, torture, execution, burning at the stake.

Already there has been a great refining process in the Near East during the last half century; and within the lifetime of this generation we shall see the East purged of its cruelty and physical roughness.

Speaking of the new movement in Turkey towards a better interpretation of the Korân, Mr. Cobb says:

A protestant wave is sweeping over Islâm; quietly and cautiously a translation of the Korân into modern Turkish is being prepared. The grip of the clergy is waning in proportion as the people are becoming educated.

It must be said in justice to Islâm, that it has never been as fanatical and intolerant of heresy as the Christian Church. There has never been any Inquisition in Islâm, and persecutions for religious differences have been far rarer than in Christianity. The Turks are the broadest and most tolerant of all Mohammedans.

While both Turkey and Persia are yet mostly in the middle ages as regards education,

In both countries there are a number of leaders who have received a European education and are thoroughly in sympathy with its ideas. Their influence is radiating throughout the country and in the end it must pervade the masses.

Mr. Cobb speaks in a most significant and welcome manner about industrial conditions in Turkey:

In methods of industry and business the medieval form holds sway.... Their hours are long, but their labor dignifies instead of degrading them. Now and then they stop work, light a cigarette and dream. There is a chance for a bit of meditation, a broadening of the vision of life.... Compare all that with the feverish activity of our modern industrial system with its soul-racking machines and unhumanizing servitude to work.... Poor East! Little does it dream, in its silent, meditative happiness, that it will one day have to face the industrial system--the age of machinery and iron. Already this is creeping upon them--already factories are being established, and labor is being chained to the loom....

Let us hope it will profit by the bitter experience of the West, and keep the good things it has. The Turkish craftsman

makes a living--he is happy, he lives near to God.... Will you undertake to show him the possibilities of combination, of fierce competition, of ostentatious wealth? Will you take away his soul and give him a few millions in return? Pray do not! Leave us some distant corner of the earth where we can flee when the shadows of industrialism oppress us; when the soullessness of human faces arouses our despair.... The East is yet a land where one can seek the eternal solitudes of the spirit.... The despotism of the East is over. No more can its rulers consign to death at their whim.... Will the East be able to keep its characteristic of peace?

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THE Irish-language demonstration held in Dublin on September 17 was impressive and successful; indeed the citizens appear to celebrate this annual event as a festival day. A considerable number of those taking part wore the ancient national costume. The first part of the procession, consisting of branches of the Gaelic League, occupied half an hour in passing a given point. Then came various schools. Next the National Foresters formed a picturesque element, an innovation being the attire of two branches of the lady Foresters, who appeared in green velvet cloaks and hoods which imparted a very realistic Celtic touch. Numerous labor organizations brought up the rear.

At the subsequent mass meeting Dr. Douglas Hyde, the energetic President of the Gaelic League, presented resolutions dealing with the education question in connexion with the preservation of the Irish language and industrial development. He said the National Board of Education had informed him that the managers of the schools and the parents of the children were colder towards the Irish language than the Board itself. "The priests of Ireland are the managers of the schools," he went on to say, "and if it was true that the priests are colder than the Board it is a sad state of affairs. I do not believe it, but I will leave this question because it does not touch us." He concluded by asking the Gaelic League members to have a welcome for every person who was an Irishman, and to apply no tests except that when members came in they should leave religion and politics outside the door.

One cannot but admire the optimism of Dr. Douglas Hyde, and if the course he outlined be followed many will soon realize that the words unsectarian and non-political, sound a keynote of progress. And the Gaelic League is surely for progress! There is an eastern book called _The Arabian Night's Entertainments_. It contains the Story of Es-Sindibâd, who had the ill-luck to encounter trying adventures, among which was the task of carrying an Old-Man-of-the-Sea on his back. Perhaps the parents, the National Board, and Dr. Douglas Hyde might think of an Irish version. Meanwhile the children suffer most.

Talking of translations, we wonder whether some Gaelic League member will think of putting _Atlantis_, by Ignatius Donnelly, into Irish. To be sure, it would give young folk a wider outlook on life, but this might not be an insuperable objection.

BOOK REVIEWS: "Les Derniers Barbares: Chine, Tibet, Mongolie," par le Commandant d'Ollone. Pierre Lafitte et Cie., Paris. By H. Alexander Fussell

In the preface to this most interesting and readable book of exploration Commandant d'Ollone reminds us that within or about the confines of the Chinese Empire there still exist "those races which conquered Cyrus, stopped Alexander, ravaged the Roman Empire, conquered Asia and half of Europe," that they are still the same, "unconquered and untamable." And he asks the question: "Will they succumb under the pressure of civilization; or shall we see them, armed with our own weapons, with modern artillery, utilizing the railways we have constructed, to begin again their terrible incursions?"

The names of these barbarians are familiar enough: Scythians, Huns, Turks, Mongols; to these must be added the Lolos, a race, according to some theorists, more nearly allied to our own, the Indo-European, than to the so-called Mongolian or Yellow race. To study the Lolos and their characteristics was one of the principal objects of the expedition d'Ollone.

Inhabiting the high mountainous plateau, about 11,000 square miles in extent, on the left bank of the Blue River, to the north of the province of Yunnan, they have maintained their independence at the price of continual war with the Chinese. Theirs is "the forbidden land," "the country where the Chinese never go"; for the latter, if found in the country of the Lolos, are either massacred or reduced to slavery. Nevertheless, they are admitted at certain seasons to gather the much coveted "insect-wax," a source of riches to the neighboring province of Sseu-Tch'ouan, which is found only in "the Great Cold Mountains" of the Lolo country. To do this they must get the protection of some Lolo chief and pay an indemnity to each of the frontier clans. The Lolos, on the other hand, go freely in times of peace into Chinese territory to buy weapons and firearms.

The expedition had some difficulty in finding Lolo chiefs to be their introducers or "sponsors"; not only was it impossible to proceed without them, but with them they would be treated more as guests than travelers. However, three Lolo chiefs were induced to undertake this office. D'Ollone describes them as

tall, magnificent men, with nothing of the Asiatic. One of them, Ma-Yola, having one of the finest heads that could be imagined, not yellow in complexion, but tanned like the inhabitants of Southern Europe, straight large eyes, arched eyebrows, aquiline nose, well-formed mouth, and an open, frank, martial expression. Truly, a European head, with a touch of the Red Indian.

The Lolo woman, too, is _quasi_-European in appearance and attire--a high bodice, a long pleated skirt with flounces, a cloak of fine wool, and turban. Describing the wife of Ma-Djédjé, another of their "sponsors" from a different clan, d'Ollone says, "of stately and noble beauty, she at once compels attention, and all her movements are graceful and dignified."

Among many customs which testify to the high moral development of the Lolos is that of dividing property equally among the heirs of both sexes; as an unmarried woman, however, cannot inherit, her share is held over till her marriage, when it forms her dowry--and until her marriage her brothers must provide for her maintenance. If there is any inequality in the division of property, the youngest is favored. The Lolos appear to be Theists, but have no temples or religious ceremonies.

Who are the Lolos, and to what race do they belong? Hardy mountaineers, good horsemen, fond of war and violent exercise, of proud bearing, noble and often beautiful in countenance, they show all the signs of an energetic race well fitted to develop. What statues, monuments, or architecture have they to tell of their past? None, much to d'Ollone's disappointment. Though their system of government reminded him strongly of the feudal system, yet noble and serf would sleep together on the ground wrapped in their long cloaks, or in cabins without a scrap of furniture. What is the explanation of this anomaly? The real home of the Lolos is not the mountainous country where they have maintained their independence, but on the other bank of the Blue River, where the semi-independent Lolos (and the Miao-Tseu) live under their hereditary chiefs, who, however, acknowledge Chinese authority. But even here no traces of their ancient civilization are to be found, for the Chinese conquerors destroyed everything that reminded them of the Lolo supremacy.

The ethnological problem is thus succinctly stated by Commandant d'Ollone:

Are there in the midst of China populations which do not belong to the Yellow Race? If there are and they have come from elsewhere, we ought to find traces of their passage, colonies which they have left on the way, discover whence they came and to what original family to assign them. If, however, they are indigenous, or at least if they arrived before the beginning of history, then the Far East is not the cradle of the Yellow Race; it is this last which has come from far and has dispossessed the indigenous races, incorporating many of them without doubt, and its homogeneity is a fiction.

Here may be quoted a note by Madame Blavatsky in _The Secret Doctrine_, Vol. II, page 280;

"What would you say to our affirmation that the Chinese--I speak of the inland, the true Chinaman, not of the hybrid mixture between the Fourth and Fifth Races now occupying the throne, the aborigines who belong in their unallied nationality wholly to the highest and last branch of the Fourth Race--reached their highest civilization when the Fifth had hardly appeared in Asia" (_Esoteric Buddhism_, p. 67). And this handful of the inland Chinese are all of a very high stature. Could the most ancient MSS. in the Lolo language (that of the aborigines of China) be got at and translated correctly, many a priceless piece of evidence would be found. But they are as rare as their language is unintelligible. So far one or two European archaeologists only have been able to procure such priceless works.

This was written in 1888. It may be added that the Lolo nobles preserve very carefully their genealogies. To return to the Miao-Tseu. They, says d'Ollone,

are usually considered as having no writing of their own. Taking advantage of the fact that one of them, who had a law-suit, asked my help, I begged him to put his case in writing. This he did without any difficulty, and assured me that since their subjection by the Chinese, the latter having destroyed all the books they could discover, the Miao-Tseu had hidden those that remained, and had feigned ever since to be ignorant of the art of writing; they possessed, however, numerous books containing the annals of their race.

We must refer our readers to d'Ollone's book for an interesting account of his "hunt for documents."

After studying the Miao-Tseu and the semi-independent Lolos the expedition returned to Ma-Tao-Tseu, whence they had set out, where d'Ollone met some pimos or learned Lolos who while they can read the sacred books, have no priestly functions and must by no means be considered as priests. With one of them, who was especially intelligent and well-informed, "my Lolo professor," as he calls him, d'Ollone worked hard for a fortnight, learning the Lolo writing and laying the foundations of a Lolo-French dictionary. At the end of that time,

as a recompense for my zeal, my professor presented me with five volumes, treating, he said, of religion, geography, history, mathematics, and various sciences.

Our sympathy is secured in advance for all brave people who are striving to retain their nationality and their own language. The last twenty-five years or so has witnessed a great Celtic revival; the Welsh and Irish are both studying their ancient literature, speaking their original languages, and publishing books about their traditions which go back to a time when England was joined to the Continent and our forefathers could walk dryshod from Wales to Ireland. It is at least curious that far away in Central Asia, a Lolo prince, one of the most powerful and learned of them all, the nzemo Len, fired by the same national enthusiasm and patriotism should have founded a school where eighteen pupils are educated at his own expense in Lolo, not in Chinese. He has moreover established a rude printing-press, so as to publish books in his own language, to disseminate not only the old Lolo learning, but to popularize European science and discoveries, notably railroads, telegraphy, and ballooning, about which he has heard.

We have indicated but a small part of the work undertaken by the expedition d'Ollone. Many other interesting and hitherto unknown regions in Tibet and Mongolia were explored and are described with a wealth of anecdote and adventure which makes the book delightful reading even for those who are not attracted by the important data it has gathered for the solution of ethnographic and archaeological problems. For the sake of the latter we would observe that among the results of the expedition are

forty-six vocabularies of non-Chinese dialects; four dictionaries of native writings hitherto unknown or undecipherable; thirty-two Lolo manuscripts; two hundred and twenty-five historical inscriptions in Chinese, Sanskrit, Tibetan, Mongol, Manchu, Arabic and Lolo; the local histories of forty-two towns, about which hardly anything was known before, etc., etc.

These documents, illustrated by nearly 2000 photographs, are now being published in seven volumes with the collaboration of eminent savants, aided by a grant from the French Government.

The success of the expedition was due to the high qualities of the French nation, always the pioneers alike in science and in exploration. The difficulties to be surmounted only made their task the more attractive. Commandant d'Ollone and his confrères, Captains Lepage and de Fleurelle and Sous-lieutenant Boyve, have done honor to their country and made scientists the world over their debtors.

In conclusion one may refer in justification of the warning with which this review opens, to an earlier work by d'Ollone, published in 1906, _La Chine novatrice et guerrière_ (Armand Colin, Paris). It does away, once for all, with the old idea of the homogeneity and inertia of the Chinese Empire--as large, we must remember, as Europe, and more densely populated by a hundred different races. This Empire, which Europe not so long ago spoke of dividing into "spheres of influence," so as better to pursue a policy of commercial and military aggression, is wide awake now and intends to be "master in its own household." The patriotism that was flouted a few years ago is breaking out today in cries for war.

In the province of the lower Yang-Tse, where, Marco Polo declared disdainfully, there was scarcely to be seen a man-at-arms, there are now young men training, by gymnastic exercises and drill for the coming struggle.

"Soon," so runs one of their military marching songs, "soon, chiefs will lead millions of young men whose battalions will crush Europe and America."

"O stupid white-faced Barbarians," is the refrain of the Gymnastic Society of Hang-tche'ou, "do not think that the wrongs of the Yellow Race will last many years longer!" And d'Ollone avers that all over China the same songs are sung.

It seems indeed as if we were approaching one of those great crises of the world's history. East and West are getting to know each other, and are measuring their strength. May a peaceful solution be found in the higher ideals which each proclaims, and the Federation of Nations and the Brotherhood of Man at last become a reality!

The work is beautifully printed on calendered paper, and illustrated very handsomely with views photographed during the expedition. A few of them are reproduced on these pages; they give one an idea of the different peoples.

"The Plough and the Cross: a Story of New Ireland," by William Patrick O'Ryan. The Aryan Theosophical Press, Point Loma, California. By F. J. D.

This story is surely one of the most arresting and charming which has appeared for many years. Reviewers of the first edition were almost unanimous in saying that it has to be read and re-read, because of its absorbing interest. Filled with beauties of ideation born of Celtic inspiration, are many memory-haunting passages. Seldom has there been a book portraying with such skill and grace the contemporary mental states of a naturally buoyant and imaginative people.

The first chapter is an adumbration, almost an epitome both of the story and of the general situation in Ireland along certain lines, mainly in the thought-world. For in spite of occasional brief personal or scenic sketches, one lives, in these pages, pre-eminently within the very thought-life of a people--a bold departure, and few have been the writers competent to make the attempt. Withal, the story is so genial and humorous, that one lives in that world unconscious of the magic woven around him. Most stories and dramas depend largely for their interest upon plot, incident, and stirring situations. Yet here the keenest interest is sustained within realms of mind, aspiration, and the higher planes of emotion; with little or no aid from plot or dramatic situation; although there are in reality deeply dramatic touches, those which belong to soul-drama.

One feels that the writer, while taking life seriously, looks ever to the brighter side--a wonderful achievement for any Thinker living in the Ireland of today. Because of this inherent attitude, he succeeds in throwing a strong search-light on existing conditions; and again because of it, that light illumines conditions prevalent in some other countries equally. The story has thus an almost universal character, and is in fact a kind of prose-poem. Some, entire strangers to Ireland, declare the characters in the story to be to them much more familiar than their most intimate friends. For being typical, they are real.

In one aspect it is the oft-told tale of struggle against conventionality and dogmatism; but the remarkable thing is that here these are presented in a sympathetic, rather than in an antagonistic light. It is a masterly touch; for conventionality, dogmatism, and even intolerance, are ways in which our imperfect natures cling fearfully to some halting-place, ere a new step is taken on the upward journey.

And so there must always be pioneers, leaders who encourage us to take the next step onward. Books such as this are like refreshing waters pouring new streams of life on jaded souls, weary of the squirrel-in-cage business of the accepted order. The book is full of good-humored raillery, and abounds in richly imaginative and poetic flashes. Although practically a recital of actual occurrences in Ireland, and therefore occasionally weighted with sad and unavoidably stern vicissitudes (less stern than the reality), one discerns plainly those undercurrents of aspiration and effort which are pressing upward in many places today--forces which, indeed, attain embodied expression before the world, in the Theosophical movement led by Katherine Tingley. And it was Katherine Tingley who, recognizing the high merit of this little work, acquired the copyright and caused the first edition to appear from the workshops of the Aryan Theosophical Press. The author himself, who is unconnected with the Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society, replying to his critics, and after disclaiming the idea that there was any propagandist design in his mind, went on to say:

The truth is that life and character in the Ireland that is waking up are extraordinarily rich and interesting if we look a little below the surface.... To take such ideas and characters and try to press them into the service of some personal theory or propaganda would be a crude and senseless proceeding. The point is to illustrate and interpret them, as well as one can, to let them speak for themselves.

The following extracts, much to the point, are taken from a review which appeared in _The Gaelic-American_, New York.

Here we see the mysticism of the medieval poet done into prose. Into his love romance the author has woven his own peculiar ideas about religion, society, theosophy, altruism, and every-day politics. His characters talk these things without, however, losing their human and personal traits. That is why the story is so interesting.

In some respects _The Plough and the Cross_ is a psychological study. Katherine Tingley, the famous Theosophist of Point Loma, condenses the features of the novel in the following brief introduction:

"A story of real life in Ireland--in the deepest sense as well as in the usual one--it elucidates certain heart problems in social and religious life with a candor, charm, and fearlessness, and with so tender a restraint and sympathy that it can hardly fail to be regarded as a wholly unique contribution to modern thought.

"More than one actual initiation into the real meaning and purpose of human life is subtly and exquisitely depicted here--the outcome of those stern yet joyful experiences which must come sooner or later to all true hearts that toil nobly and unselfishly for the uplift of social and national life...."

The Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society

Founded at New York City in 1875 by H. P. Blavatsky, William Q. Judge and others

Reorganized in 1898 by Katherine Tingley

Central Office, Point Loma, California

The Headquarters of the Society at Point Loma with the buildings and grounds, are no "Community" "Settlement" or "Colony," but are the Central Executive Office of an international organization where the business of the same is carried on, and where the teachings of Theosophy are being demonstrated. Midway 'twixt East and West, where the rising Sun of Progress and Enlightenment shall one day stand at full meridian, the Headquarters of the Society unite the philosophic Orient with the practical West.

MEMBERSHIP

in the Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society may be either "at large" or in a local Branch. Adhesion to the principle of Universal Brotherhood is the only pre-requisite to membership. The Organization represents no particular creed; it is entirely unsectarian, and includes professors of all faiths, only exacting from each member that large toleration of the beliefs of others which he desires them to exhibit towards his own.

Applications for membership in a Branch should be addressed to the local Director; for membership "at large" to G. de Purucker, Membership Secretary, International Theosophical Headquarters, Point Loma, California.

OBJECTS

This Brotherhood is a part of a great and universal movement which has been active in all ages.

This Organization declares that Brotherhood is a fact in Nature. Its principal purpose is to teach Brotherhood, demonstrate that it is a fact in Nature, and make it a living power in the life of humanity.

Its subsidiary purpose is to study ancient and modern religions, science, philosophy, and art; to investigate the laws of Nature and the divine powers in man.

It is a regrettable fact that many people use the name of Theosophy and of our Organization for self-interest, as also that of H. P. Blavatsky, the Foundress, and even the Society's motto, to attract attention to themselves and to gain public support. This they do in private and public speech and in publications. Without being in any way connected with the Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society, in many cases they permit it to be inferred that they are, thus misleading the public, and honest inquirers are hence led away from the original truths of Theosophy.

The Universal Brotherhood and Theosophical Society welcomes to membership all who truly love their fellow men and desire the eradication of the evils caused by the barriers of race, creed, caste, or color, which have so long impeded human progress; to all sincere lovers of truth and to all who aspire to higher and better things than the mere pleasures and interests of a worldly life and are prepared to do all in their power to make Brotherhood a living energy in the life of humanity, its various departments offer unlimited opportunities.

The whole work of the Organization is under the direction of the Leader and Official Head, Katherine Tingley, as outlined in the Constitution.

Inquirers desiring further information about Theosophy or the Theosophical Society are invited to write to

THE SECRETARY
International Theosophical Headquarters
Point Loma, California

Transcriber's Notes:

Bold type is shown as =strong=.

Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.

Small capitals have been capitalised.

Illustrations have been moved out of mid-paragraph.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.

Punctuation has been retained as published.

Typographical errors that were noticed during transcription
have been changed.