USA > Illinois > Cook County > Chicago > The Congress of Women : held in the Woman's building, World's Columbian exposition, Chicago, U.S.A., 1893 : with portraits, biographies and addresses > Part 28
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73 | Part 74 | Part 75 | Part 76 | Part 77 | Part 78 | Part 79 | Part 80 | Part 81 | Part 82 | Part 83 | Part 84 | Part 85 | Part 86 | Part 87 | Part 88 | Part 89 | Part 90 | Part 91 | Part 92 | Part 93 | Part 94 | Part 95 | Part 96 | Part 97 | Part 98 | Part 99 | Part 100 | Part 101 | Part 102 | Part 103 | Part 104 | Part 105 | Part 106 | Part 107 | Part 108 | Part 109 | Part 110 | Part 111 | Part 112 | Part 113 | Part 114 | Part 115
207
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
of these throngs of people; these crowds of yours. What men may or may not wish, is to him nothing, he says. This surging mass of humanity, even to see, in him, " puts out the fire of song." He cries for sweet silences and the visionary forms of the inner world. Shall the fair thought, he asks, and the high expression that comes to the poet as a precious gift-shall this be put to low usage, for the amusement of the vulgar crowd? Closing, he says he does not care to work for popularity and the passing moment. He would leave his labors for posterity.
The manager is silent and the jester comes forward. "Posterity!" exclaims he "If everybody should work for the future, what would become of present pleasure." This is but a passing word, but to the student of the drama it touches one of the prin- ciples of the play-the present moment, its value here and now-an idea and principle which is carried through the poem. The jester has much to say, and, becoming serious, in a few lines of fullest meaning he moves inward to the heart of things, and, facing the poet with utterance of deep-felt truth, by what he says in this first speech of his, sets before the reader the great motive of the whole Faust poem. He remarks first that in any case the people, it is to be noticed, will have their " fun." Then, re- verting to the words spoken by the poet, in answer to his expressed aversion to "the crowd," he says that to his mind the presence of any fine young fellow has in itself a human value and should be of worth to everyone. Brief as this word is, and quietly . spoken, it strikes the theme of personality. Upon the reader's imagination rises like a statue the jester's " fine young fellow '-one of the crowd, it is true; still a son of man, a fellow mortal strong to labor, with eyes to see and heart to love. The poet in his self-protection may shrink therefrom, yet none the less the man is there, and as his jester shows he stands a claimant upon respect, if not upon regard. Having thus set his young man upon the stage as a figure for suggestion, typical of the crowd, the jester goes on, and with the privilege of speech allowed to professional fools, with gentle audacity he takes it upon himself to instruct the poet. Without calling him narrow-minded or small-hearted the jester states a principle, saying that in society whenever a man gives out his own nature and power to others in a happy, cheerful way, allowing free utterance of his own best in genial fashion, he does not become irritated by the varying conditions and moods of the crowd, but rather he grows to be himself the greater, because, by contact with human nature, he widens the circle of his own knowledge and sympathies, and, the jester says, such a one, meaning if he is great enough, can even from the people draw inspiration. "So, then," he says, returning to the question of the desired play, he bids the poet "take heart and give them sterling coin, not counterfeit of high feeling." The manager is encouraged by this direct address from his jester, and hastening to speak as if, upon this higher ground, the matter were even now quite settled, he tells the poet to be sure to have plenty of inci- dents in the play, so that each who listens shall find something for himself and all shall be amazed and delighted. He says there is no need to compose a drama altogether smooth in its unity-only to bring his facts and scenes, and have, among them all, enough to please the varied audience. But this assumption of success is of no use. The poet, still untaught and untouched, replied that they cannot understand him. That to make a trade of his art is impossible. He is an artist and loyal to himself. Such stringing together of scenes to amuse people; such pretence of literary. art is not for his gifted hand, although he says, smilingly, he perceives that it is a principle with them.
The manager does not allow himself to be ruffled by this sarcasm. He shows himself quietly determined to get this play written; and going back to the crowd again for argument, he, in his turn, thrusts at the poet. He described the people as they come, already wearied with knowledge or gayety, yet eager for something to lift them out of themselves. Men and women-there they are; and now does not the poet recognize their faces? As he writes, dramatist that he is, does he not in reality work for these same people? Does he not desire full houses also, and if he should look his audience over, follow its feet as it dispersed, would he not find it much the same in one case as the other -- " half coarse, half cold?"
208
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
Then, directing his attack still personally, dropping the crowd, the manager says that as to glory it depends not upon the audience, but upon the poet. The more he gives the more he wins of fame. The writing of this play is opportunity; and now what has the poet to say ?
For reply the poet bursts into passionate speech. He bids the manager go else- where for obedience to a low demand. What! he cries; shall he use his gift of nature, the highest gift to man, the very utmost of human expression-shall he degrade this gift for the enriching of the manager's purse? In his earnest words we hear the voice of Goethe himself-the voice of the artist speaking for his noble birthright, for the privilege of a high holding of his poet power.
He is not speaking arrogantly, but with the loyalty of true reverence for a power which he felt was given. Accepting the poetic gift as from above, Goethe stands like the East Indian, who in earliest centuries looked upward and rejoiced in the down- ward flight of song; and while the drift of this entire scene, taken as a whole, is to reconcile all degrees of life in human action, it is evident that, both by the appeal of the manager to him as the only man who could do that great work, as well as by the poet's first feeling against it, Goethe meant to give utterance to his recognition of the beauty of the great gift of poetry. The poet continues: From whence comes his empire over human hearts? How does he conquer the elements of life? Is it not because of the secret accordant power of his own heart, which passes with its great beating pulse to the utmost confines of life, to know, to feel it all and to express it? When even nature's threads grow strained or slackened, when all creation is out of harmony, when her myriad voices jangle together, when depression and confusion reign-who then has power to touch again the order of existence, to recall wandering forces of life and bid them move once more with rythmical vibration under the cen- tral fire of life above?
" Who is it," he cries, "wakens the heart of man at will? Who scatters every fairest April blossom Along the strewing path of love? Who braids the plain green leaves to crowns, requiting Desert, with Fame in Action's every field?"
Who is it brings the very gods to earth in unity with man but he, himself-the poet.
The passion of his words have filled the air. The jester, wise man that he is. comprehending that it is at once justice to the poet and to the people, and success for the manager to work with nature, and not against the laws of things, now accepts the poet as he shows himself, and, uniting himself harmoniously to this ardent soul, without yielding in the least to the principle for which he, with his young man, has been pleading, now begins a diplomatic reply. Still leading to the manager's desire, and urging the writing of the play, he says: since these things are so, as the fine forces of life do act together to result in expression; since they are far-reaching and come by inspiration-if poetry comes, like love, unsought, then let this poet power be acknowledged; let it express itself, and let that expression be their play.
" Let us, then," he says, " such a drama give." Let the poet be true to himself; let him reach out after that life universal, which it is so given him to feel, and let what he can grasp and bring be the play of which they are in need.
The audience will find itself reflected in such a writing; cach will select from the whole the part to which it can respond, and though " Few may comprehend, where'er you touch there's interest without end," the people will be moved to "weeping or to laughter," and without knowing why will still " enjoy the show they see."
The jester ends contentedly, for having met and accepted the poet's own estima- tion of himself, he feels that the case is won, the play will be written, and here, argu- ment and persuasion being at an end, he yields to himself, falls into a bit of phil- osophy, and gives to the reader another of the vital threads upon which the Faust
209
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
drama is to be woven. It is Göethe himself speaking again, when the jester says in a meditative way that there are two great classes in an audience which are typical of the world at large-those who grow, and those who do not. There are those who, grown to a certain point, have stopped there, marked out certain lines as sure and fast, sat down within them, and with steadfast rejection of new ideas have never been pleased with progress. While on the other hand are those who are alive to each breath of thought, who drink in all truth as they can find it, seeking eagerly for means of growth, and those, he concludes, as are known to the poet will be ever grateful.
The poet has been met upon his own ground; still the task before him gives no hint of inspiration. His heart fails, and like many another, weary in the service of art, he for the moment forgets to look upward and onward, and with a purely human impulse turns to the remembered days of youth when, as he says, he had nothing, yet had all things.
"When like a fount the crowding measures, Uninterrupted gushed and sprang." Illusion was his, and as for truth, vigor of love and hate, If he must write, give him his youth again.
The jester listens. We can almost see his gentle, quizzical smile as he, quietly surveying the whole of life, replies to this natural, yet inferior attitude of the poet. Touching him gently, pointing this and this way, with intention to lead his artist to a nobler, greater state of mind, he says that youth was very well in its place and season; it was well for love and dancing, and for combat and the winning of prizes, but he says (and again we know how the words indicate Goethe's own feeling), to play upon the harp of life itself, to play with strength of love and skill of hand,
"With grace and bold expression,"
comes only from experience. He shakes his head. "They say age makes us childish, but 'tis not true."
This is the jester's closing word. A powerful man he has shown himself to be, far- sighted, large of heart, adaptable in temperament and a master of philosophy touch- ing the doctrine of growth and the brotherhood of man.
As the jester ceases speaking the manager begins, bringing the business and the scene to a close. They have talked quite long enough, he says. 'Tis deeds that I prefer to see. They can be more useful if they will drop compliments, talks about inspiration and all that, and without further delay let the poet go to work. The man- ager is not making himself disagreeable, however. Having gained his point, he now desires to aid the poet in every way that he can. So, although he says to him briefly:
" If poetry be your vocation, Let poetry your will obey,"
he still recognizes the mood of the poet, who stands despondently silent, weighted with the sense of what he has to do; and as if to reassure him, even while he urged him forward, the manager, too, drifts into philosophy, and touches a point in life which well appeals to us, according with experience and with that upward progressive spirit, which is one of the leadings of today. He says:
" Tomorrow will not do. Waste not a day."
Then most kindly, with true sympathy, he bids his author be resolute and courageous, and above all trustful to the power within. He bids him look abroad for incentive and thought, and so looking, to seize upon every impression, catching and holding and using what first may come. "You'll then work on because you must." Evidently the manager had himself battled with discouragement, and had learned the value of
(14)
.
210
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
impressions used and trusted as the first way out of the cloud. And we do work on " because we must." Pushed from behind, beckoned to from the beyond, so has the world written its poems and solved the problems of its days.
The manager continues, not waiting for reply. The poet has no lack of material. As to the German stage, it is open as a fair arena for thought of all degrees. It wel- comes what may come, however unlike what went before; so without restriction the poet may take the universe: " And all you find be sure to show it."
" The stars in any number,
Beasts, birds, trees, rocks and all such lumber; Fire, water, darkness, day and night."
And he finished his counsel and direction with those notable words, that thus within the little sphere of their stage shall appear that greater one, "The Circle of Creation;" and all things brought thus into their guiding hands, in the action of the play, shall move as they shall direct, "From Heaven across the world to Hell."
The phase opens a line of thought which can only be expressed by the interpre- tation of the entire drama. To speak of it briefly is to show only its significance as the suggestion of what is to be looked for in the play. A careless reading seems to imply that the action of the play beginning nobly, on the heights of Heaven, is to end in destruction. Such a course would be true enough to much of life as we see it, and as the first part of Faust ends with the death of Margaret and the grief of Faust, and as many have never looked into the second part, it has been a popular impression that the name of Faust is synonymous with evil and damnation. But there is a second part to this drama to which the first is but introduction; and here, following to its close, the reader is led along an upward pathway, which is opened step by step by the struggle and the upward movement of Faust, as upon the earth, among men, he works out his salvation.
The opening scenes are an introduction to the drama. Their completion lies in it close. Putting the two together we have Goethe's " Circle of Creation," and com- prehend what he meant when he said to his friend Eckermann that this much consid- cred and questioned line was " not an idea, only the course of the action."
In this scene the manager was talking to two highly intelligent people, and this closing phrase is the gesture by which he shows them his idea. He lifts his hand and sweeps a part of his circle from heaven to earth, and that, for his companions, is enough.
A circle is a mathematical figure; it belongs to nature, not to invention. It can not be altered; if perfect, from whatever point it begins to that point it must return in its completion.
If the elements of this play begin above, and if the play itself, as the poct insists, is to be a unity, showing the Circle of Creation in its imagined perfection, although such art may surpass most human living, it is evident that the progress of life must carry the elements of existence downward to carth and upward again toward heaven. This is the progress of the Faust drama. The theme of the relationships of man to nature, to the invisible world and the visible, to man and to woman in society, government, ideal culture and art, in all aspiration for the beyond and all right usage of the earthly and human; this theme is pursued as Faust passes from scene to scene to the close.
As we turn the page the curtain, falling on this " Prelude on the Stage," rises directly upon " The Prologue in Heaven."
"Who e'er aspires unweariedly," says Ariel in the opening of the second part, " is worthy of redeeming."
With late years we have had the rendering of this theme in the exquisite music of Robert Schumann. Lending it to Goethe's words the two in harmony show this Circle of Creation in the power of its re-ascension; but even without that, in the drama alone, the closing pages are linked to those of the introduction, and by them we comprehend what was in Goethe's mind when in the empty theater he set his manager, his poet and his wise man, the jester, to call into being and announce to us this drama of life.
"PHILANTHROPY FOR GIRLS IN PARIS."* By MADAME MARIE MARSHALL.
Every young girl, from the university down to the unfortunate girl that is left friendless and destitute, must be taught enough of domestic work that she may not be only an ornament in society, unable to provide her- self with the most elementary and necessary things of material existence, to wit: a good wholesome food that will keep aloof that disease so common among you, dyspepsia.
We have heard that the highly educated girls take an interest in that part of a woman's education so neglected nowadays; let me tell you about that no less interesting class of girls, friendless and destitute, for whom there is no other way to escape starvation or a life of shame than to take up domestic service, even though they have not the remotest idea as to what will be expected from them.
Something should be done to help the helpless, and to that effect I began in Paris two years ago an experiment that bids fair to succeed.
Many of our girls in large cities are wonderfully ignorant of any kind of domestic work; the reason is: worthless parents, careless of their children's welfare, spend their time at the drinking shops or in places fully as disreputable, while the little ones are sent at MADAME MARIE MARSHALL. an early age begging in the streets, until the habit becomes a second nature, and from such childhood grow into girlhood so pitiful to witness that I am wondering there has not been more attempts made to open to these unconscious victims of degenerated parents small shelters, where, in groups of not more than fifteen, at most, the girls could be trained as in a family for domestic work, and then placed out in worthy families, where their life would become like an Eden compared to that of earlier years.
Being connected with the Society of Prevention of Cruelty to children in Paris, I came across such cases of child misery that I was for a long time anxious to find a way to better the condition of the girls who are so unprotected in our fair land; yet I am happy to say great efforts are tending to make laws more favorable to our sex.
The class of girls of which I speak must be also trained morally and religiously, without any sectarianism, if we want the material training to bear good results; then they will become honest, intelligent women, loving the work that will enable them to go through life with head and heart uplifted.
Mme. Marie Marshall is a native of Paris, France. She was born in 1849. Her mother moved to California to practice maternity clinics. She studied in Paris and California. and has traveled in the United States, France and England. She married in San Francisco, and is the mother of a son now an ordained minister of the Gospel. She spent fifteen years of her yonth in California, and lately eighteen years in France. Her special work has been in the interest of the poor and the work- ing class in Paris, especially the young girls. Her principal literary works are referred to above. Her profession has been teacher and principal in the public schools of San Francisco and Paris ; she studied art, painting and singing, teaching the latter, and lately for the benefit of a "Domestic training school for destitnte girls." In religions faith she has been converted from Catholicism to Congregationalism. Her postoffice address until May, 1894, is care of Mr. F. A. Booth, 19 East Sixteenth Street, New York City.
* The full title nnder which the address was delivered was, "Philanthropy and Charity for girls in Paris."
211
212
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
Many an appeal have I read in Paris about the necessity of starting a school for young domestics; yet when I began this new work I met with what one usually meets, i. e., incredulity, indifference, and perhaps a little ill-will; I was advocating a new system; the Old World has not yet put off its old mantle of routinc.
My fifteen years spent in the United States, tcaching in the public schools, where I had the honor of being a principal, had given me ideas that could not always meet with a thorough understanding on the part of some of our best women in philanthropic and Christian work, because they bore in themselves a fragrance of independence perhaps too strong.
As I said before, I only began my work two years ago, January 10, 1891. The incident that made me try it, with no help but my own modest resources, and a Guide that never fails whoever will follow Him, has been related in the report to Congress of Philanthropy; I will therefore only speak here of the advantages which I think can derive from my system: Homes and not Institutions. In France our institutions keep the girls entirely away from the world in a great many cases, up to sixteen, eighteen and twenty-onc years of age, letting them out exactly as unfit for the world as the young brood taking its first flight from the nest-unsteady, bewildered, as it meets the broad immensity for the first time. Many a fall is due only to the insufficient preparation and complete ignorance of the dangers to be encountered.
Domestic training schools have been started in this country, as well as in others; but whenever they bear only the character of institution they prove failures. In spite of what many say to the contrary an institution will never take the place of the home; cach individual in a home can be morally and mentally trained with the greatest carc. "Saving by guarding against evil," will prove far better work than rescuing, even though rescuing must not be neglected.
The family training affords many an opportunity to point out all dangers to the young girl; she is not shut up from the world, neither is she allowed to go through it unprotected; she is made wisc and strong by being shown the consequences that await all those who, for one reason or another, have not shunned the flattering words, the tempting gayeties that may be offered to the poor girl now fallen, through igno- rance more than evil desire.
Can that be so easily pointed out to our girls shut up and trained between the high walls of tradition and conventionalities centuries old ?
Certainly not; and as the number of the friendless and destitute increases with distressing rapidity in our large centers, I believe we must elevate the standard of domestic service by elevating the moral character of those who volunteer to accept that humble calling.
Let us remember the noble characters whose names have been synonyms of loyalty and devotions to their masters.
Every year the French academy delivers one or more rewards, " Prix Montyon," to some humble, faithful, noble hearted man or woman servant who will surely receive a still better reward at the hand of the Master who came here below to serve all me1)
When domestic service will be better understood because better taught, then will those honored exceptions become a thing of the past, and the young girl will have a heart to honor both herself and masters by accomplishing her modest duties with a love that can only receive its impulse from above.
I expect to return to Paris and make most strenuous efforts toward carrying out my domestic work for destitute girls as a preventive work, and on the plan explained here; should I find resources and sympathy not answer my expectations, I want every Christian man and woman here to know that I am ready to do the same work wher- ever there are girls to be saved from danger. You only have to call on me at 38 Rue Nollet, Paris, France, or until May, 1894, care of Mr. F. A. Booth, 19 cast Sixteenth street, New York.
THE LEPER.
By MISS KATE MARSDEN.
When I first turned my attention to the condition of lepers my idea was to go and work for them in India; but to do that it was necessary that I should have help and experience. With the view of getting help I obtained an introduction to her Majesty, the Queen, and I thank God for it, as it has given me the entre to for- eign courts, and without that my efforts would have been fruitless.
With the view of getting experience as to how lepers are treated, I decided to visit some leper settle- ment. I had first seen lepers during the Russo-Turk- ish war when I was on hospital duty. I have seen them in the Holy Land and at Constantinople. While at Constantinople I accidentally heard of an herb which was said to be a cure for leprosy, and I also heard that it grew only in Siberia. Had it been Kamtchatka or the North Pole I would have tried to reach it. In the Caucasus I again heard of the herb and again in St. Petersburg, but was told by very high authorities, and even by the Empress herself that there were no lepers in Siberia. I, however, felt that I must find the herb, and persevered; by the help of many friends I was able to start on a journey of fourteen thousand miles, there and back. It is hardly MISS KATE MARSDEN. necessary to speak of the start from Moscow except to say that I remember with gratitude the kind friends who evinced interest in my project by making me presents. One lady knowing I was very fond of plum pudding sent me forty pounds; another sent me tins of insect powder, and, said the lady who sent the little gift, " the more use you make of it the better for you." With regard to food one of the principal articles was soup frozen in blocks, which were hung outside the sledge. On arrival at a post station bits were chipped off and thawed as required. From Zlataonet part of the journey was accomplished by sledge, some varieties being about equal to a plow cart void of springs or other conveniences, while others were still less comfortable. The roads were very bad and very much resembled the waves of the sea, owing to the large amount of heavy traffic which was passing over them on its way to the annual Siberian Fair. On account of the extreme cold I was so enveloped in furs that I could scarcely move. I wore three pairs of fur boots reach- ing over the knees and several fur coats; only a few inches of my face were visible. Getting into my sledge was not an easy matter with all these incumbrances. Indeed, I generally tumbled in full length, and had to be arranged, poked here and there, until I fitted into some nook among the luggage. At first, every night we stopped at a
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.