Nor deem them less in value that they are
By the brighter lustre of thine eyes eclipsed.
By the brighter lustre of thine eyes eclipsed.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v23 - Sha to Sta
Krasinski, allied with the highest
families, and Mickiewicz, the favorite of the
great, were patriots of a more aristocratic
mold. Upon them all fell the mighty
shadow of Byron; and in none was the
Byronic spirit more perfectly reincarnated
than in Slowacki. He surpassed his master;
and although he outgrew this influence, and
drew loftier inspiration from Shakespeare
JULIUS SLOWACKI
and Calderon, he retained to the end the traces of "Satanic" pessi-
mism. In a rough classification of the members of this brilliant triad,
Mickiewicz, the master of the epic and lyric, may be called the poet
of the present; Krasinski, the prophet and seer, the poet through
whom the future spoke; while Slowacki, the dramatist, was the pan-
egyrist of the past.
Julius Slowacki was born at Krzemieniec on August 23d, 1809.
His father was a professor of some note at the University of Vilna,
where the lad received his education. His mother idolized and
spoiled him, sowing the seeds of that supreme self-love which became
in him a moral malady. From the first he had the conscious resolve
to become a great poet. Upon leaving the university in 1828 he
entered the uncongenial service of the State. Two years later he
## p. 13509 (#323) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13509
abandoned his post; and left Poland to be thenceforth a homeless
wanderer. During the period of his official bondage in Warsaw he
produced his early Byronic tales in verse: 'Hugo,' a romance of
the Crusades, 'Mnich' (The Monk), 'Jan Bielecki,' 'The Arab,' etc.
They are distinguished by boldness of fancy and great beauty of
diction; but their gloomy pessimistic tone ran counter to the prevail-
ing taste of that still hopeful time, and the day of their popularity
was deferred until renewed misfortunes had chastened the public
heart. Two dramas belong to the same period,-'Mindowe and
'Mary Stuart. › The scene of the former is laid in the ancient days
before Christianity had been established in Lithuania; the latter chal-
lenges comparison with Schiller's play, and surpasses it in dramatic
vigor. It is still a favorite in the repertoire of the Polish theatres.
Slowacki delighted in powerful overmastering natures: it was the
demonic in man that most appealed to him; and that element in
his own nature during the turbulent days of 1830 and 1831 burst
forth into revolutionary song. His fine 'Ode to Freedom,' the fer-
vid Hymn to the Mother of God,' and the ringing martial spirit of
his 'Song of the Lithuanian Legion,' stirred all hearts, and raised
Slowacki at once to the front rank among the poetic exponents of
the Polish national idea.
When in 1832 Slowacki settled in Geneva, a new period in his
literary career began: he emerged from the shadow of Byron, and
his treatment of life became more robust and earnest. Unconsciously
his Kordjan came to resemble Conrad in the third part of Mickie-
wicz's 'Dziady' (In Honor of our Ancestors). The first two acts of
this powerful drama are still somewhat in the Byronic manner, but
the last three acts are among the finest in the whole range of
Polish dramatic literature. The theme is patriotic: the hero plunges
into a conspiracy at Warsaw to overthrow the Czar; but at the criti-
cal moment the man is found wanting, and because he puts forth
no adequate effort he miserably fails. This dramatically impressive
but morally impotent conclusion reveals the ineradicable pessimism
of the poet's mind. Kordjan is of that irresolute Slavic type which
Sienkiewicz has so mercilessly analyzed in 'Without Dogma. ' To
this same period of Slowacki's greatest productivity belong the two
splendid tragedies Mazepa' and 'Balladyna. ' In 'Mazepa is all
the fresh vigor of the wind-swept plains; it has a dramatic quality
that reminds of Calderon, and maintains itself with unabated popu-
larity upon the Polish stage. 'Balladyna' is the most original of all
the poet's creations. Shakespeare superseded Byron; but the master
now inspired and no longer dominated. Lilla Weneda,' of later
date, was the second part of an unfinished trilogy, of which Balla-
dyna' was the first: the design of the whole was to recreate the
## p. 13510 (#324) ##########################################
13510
JULIUS SLOWACKI
mythical traditions of Poland. On this ancient background is por-
trayed the conflict of two peoples; and it is characteristic of the poet
that he allows the nobler race to succumb to the ruder.
It was during Slowacki's Swiss sojourn also that he wrote one
of the finest lyric gems of Polish poetry, 'In Switzerland. ' In it he
immortalized the Polish maiden who for too short a time ruled his
wayward nature in a brief but beautiful dream of love. In Rome
in 1836 he met Krasinski, to whose lofty inspiration his own soul
responded. During a trip in the Orient he wrote his deeply pathetic
poem Ojciec Zadzumionych' (The Father of the Plague-Stricken).
Upon this doomed man, as upon Job, is heaped misfortune on mis-
fortune until human capacity for suffering is exhausted, and the man
becomes a stony monument of misery. There is an overwhelming
directness of presentation in this poem that suggests the agony of the
marble Laocoön. It surpasses Byron at his best.
In 1837 Slowacki rejoined Krasinski in Florence, and under his in-
fluence wrote in Biblical style the allegory of 'Anhelli. ' It is a song
of sorrow for the sufferings of Poland and her exiled patriots; but it
loses itself at last in the marsh of mystic Messianism into which the
masterful but vulgar Towianski lured many of the nobler spirits of
Poland, including Mickiewicz. Krasinski resisted, and the two friends
were separated. Slowacki and his greater rival were stranded on the
shoal of Towianism. The works which he had written in Switzer-
land he began to publish in Paris in 1838; but 'Beniowski' was the
only work of art that he wrote after that time. This is a lyric-epic
of self-criticism. His works thenceforth were water-logged with
mysticism, and do not belong to the domain of art. In 'Król Duch'
(King Mind) this madness reaches its height. Embittered and out of
touch with the world, he died in Paris on April 3d, 1849.
Slowacki surpassed all his contemporaries in the magnificent
flights of his imagination, and in the glowing richness of his language
and imagery. His dramas are among the chief ornaments of Polish
literature; and his beautiful letters to his mother should be men-
tioned as perfect gems of epistolary style. His contempt for details
of form and composition seems sometimes like a conscious defiance
of the recognized requirements of art; but the splendid exuberance of
his thought and fancy ranks him among the great poets of the nine-
teenth century. He was keenly alive to the faults and failings of
his countrymen, as is shown in his 'Incorrigibles'; but in the temple
of Polish fame his place is secure at the left of Mickiewicz, at whose
right stands Krasinski with the 'Psalm of Sorrow' in his hand.
## p. 13511 (#325) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13511
FROM MINDOWE'
In 'Poets and Poetry of Poland. ' Copyright 1881, by Paul Soboleski
[Mindowe, king of Litwania, having embraced the Christian religion, his
blind mother Ronelva and his nephew Troinace conspire to effect his death.
Mindowe has banished Lawski, the prince of Nalzhaski, and essayed to win
the affections of his wife. Lawski, not having been heard of for some time,
is supposed to be dead. The scene opens just after the baptismal rites of the
monarch. ]
Scene: The royal presence chamber. Enter Casimir and Basil, from dif-
ferent sides
Casimir
Basil
Casimir
――――――
Troinace
Ronelva
Beneath a-
Basil [interrupting him] — Hold! knowest thou not
B
Ronelva
ASIL
Saw you the rites to-day, my Casimir?
Casimir
I saw what may I never see again,-
The altars of our ancient faith torn down,
Our king a base apostate, groveling
-
-
-
The ancient saw that "Palace walls have ears"?
The priests throng round us like intruding flies,
And latitude of speech is fatal.
True
I should speak cautiously. But hast seen
The prince?
Who? Troinace?
―――――
The same.
Ha! here he comes, and with the queen-mother;
It is not safe to parley in their presence.
Along with me: I've secrets for thine ear.
Hence
Ronelva enters, leaning upon the arm of Troinace, and engaged with
him in conversation.
Thou hast a son, Ronelva, crowned a king!
Is he alive? with sight my memory fails.
Once I beheld the world, but now 'tis dark-
My soul is locked in sleep-O God! O God!
My son hast seen my royal son- the King,
Thy uncle, Troinace? How is he arrayed?
Troinace In regal robes, and with a jeweled cross
Sparkling upon his breast.
[Exit Casimir and Basil.
A cross! -what cross?
'Tis not a symbol of his sovereignty-
## p. 13512 (#326) ##########################################
13512
JULIUS SLOWACKI
Troinace
Ronelva
A pause. Then enter Mindowe, crowned, and arrayed in purple, with a
diamond cross upon his breast, and accompanied by Heidenric, the Pope's
legate. Herman precedes them bearing a golden cross. Lawski, dis-
guised as a Teutonic Knight, with a rose upon his helmet, and his visor
down, bearing a casket. Lutuver attending the King. Lawski stands
apart.
Mindowe -
It is a gift made by his new ally,
The Pope.
Ronelva I feel that kindred blood is near, Mindowe!
Thy mother speaks! approach!
The Pope! - The Pope! I know none such!
Who is this Pope! - Is't he who sends new gods
To old Litwania? Yes - I've heard of him.
Mindowe -
My mother! why
These tones and words sarcastic? Knowest thou not
That victory perches on another's helm ?
I am at peace, and am — a Christian king.
Ronelva Foul shame on thee, blasphemer! Hast thou fallen
As low as this? Where is thy bold ambition?
To what base use hast placed thy ancient fame?
Is't cast aside like to some foolish toy
Ronelva-
[He approaches.
Hast thou returned
From some new expedition. Is thy brow
Covered with laurels, and thy stores
Replete with plunder? Do I hear the shouts,
Th' applause of the Litwanians, hailing thee
As conqueror? Returnest thou from Zmudie,
From Dwina's shores triumphant? Has the Russian Bear
Trembled before thy sword? Does Halicz fear
Thy angry frown? Speak! with a mother's tears
I'll hail the conqueror.
No longer worth the hoarding? Shame upon
Thy craven spirit! Canst thou live without
That glorious food, which e'en a peasant craves,
Holding it worthless as thy mother's love,
And thy brave father's faith?
Nay, mother, nay!
Dismiss these foolish fancies from thy brain.
Behold! my jeweled brow is bent before thee.
Oh, bless thy son!
Thou vile apostate! Thou
Dare ask for approbation? Thou! -I curse thee!
## p. 13513 (#327) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13513
Mindowe-
Ronelva
Mindowe
Sorrow and hate pursue thy faltering steps.
Still may thy foes prove victors; subjects false;
Thy drink be venom, and thy joy be woe.
Thy mind filled with remorse, still mayst thou live,
Seeking for death, but wooing it in vain,—
A foul, detested, blasted renegade.
――――
I have bestowed to earth a viper; but
From thee shall vipers spring, who like their sire
Shall traitors be unto their native land,
Heidenric
And eager plunge them into ruin's stream!
Depart! and bear thy mother's curse!
Mindowe [speaking as though awe-stricken] -
Heard ye that curse?
Heidenric-
-
My mother-
Call me not mother, viper!
I do disclaim thee;- thee and all thy seed!
[Exit Ronelva, leaning on Troinace.
-
What are the frantic words
Of a revengeful woman? Empty air-
A mother's curse! It carries pestilence,
Blight, misery, and sorrow in its train.
No matter! It is, as the legate says,
But "empty air. »
[To Heidenric]— What message do you bear?
Thus to the great Litwanian king, Pope Innocent
(Fourth of the name who've worn the papal crown)
Sends greeting: Thou whose power extends
From farthest Baltic to the shores of Crim,
Go on and prosper. Though unto thy creed
He thinks thy heart is true, still would he prove -
[Mindowe starts, and exclaims "Ha! "]
Send thou to him as neighboring monarchs do
An annual tribute. So he'll bless thy arms
That ere another year elapses Russ' shall yield,
And Halicz fall before thy conquering sword.
Mindowe Thanks to the Pope. I'll profit by his leave;
I'll throw my troops in Muscovy, and scourge
The hordes of Halicz, move in every place
Like an avenging brand, and say The Pope
Hath given me power. But, hark ye! legate,
What needs so great a priest as he of Rome
Mother,
―――――
## p. 13514 (#328) ##########################################
13514
JULIUS SLOWACKI
With my red gold to buy him corn and oil?
Explain! I do not understand the riddle.
Heidenric-He merely asks it as a pledge of friendship,
But nothing more. The proudest kings of Europe
Yield him such tribute.
Mindowe
Heidenric-
A gift-
A precious relic of most potent virtue.
Thou'st heard of St. Sebastian? holy man!
He died a martyr. This which brought him death
Is sent unto thee by his Holiness
[Presents a rusty spear-head. ]
Mindowe - Fie on such relics! I could give thy Pope
A thousand such! This dagger by my side
Had hung from childhood. It has drunk the blood
Of many a foe that vexed my wrath; and oft
Among them there were men, and holy men,
As holy, sir, as e'er was St. Sebastian.
Heidenric-Peace, thou blasphemer!
Mindowe [angrily]-
How! dost thou wish thy head
To stand in safety on thy shoulders?
What means this insolence, sir legate?
Think'st thou that I shall kneel, and bow, and fawn,
And put thy master's iron yoke upon me?
They act not freely whom the fetters bind,
And none shall forge such galling chains for me!
There's not one more Mindowe in the world,
Nor is your Pope a crowned Litwanian king.
Heidenric-I speak but as the representative
Of power supreme o'er earthly monarchs.
Mindowe Thou doest well to shelter thus thyself
Under the shield of thy legation. Hast
Aught more to utter of thy master's words,
Aught more to give?
I have a gift to make
Unto thy queen.
The queen hath lain, sir prince,
In cold corruption for a twelvemonth back.
What means this mockery?
Heidenric
Tribute! -base priest!
Whene'er thy master asks for tribute, this-
[Striking his sword. ]
Is my reply. What hast thou there?
Mindowe —
—
## p. 13515 (#329) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13515
Heidenric-
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
-
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
Aldona -
It was not known unto his Holiness.
The forests of Litwania are so dark
They shut her doings from her neighbor's ken.
If then the queen be dead, who shall receive
This goodly gift?
My mother
If I may judge
By what I heard e'en now, she'd not accept
Our offering.
Mindowe
Then give the gorgeous gaw
To Lawski's widow-she who soon will be
My crownèd queen.
Summon her hither, page.
Heidenric [aside] -
--
Pardon, my lord!
Mindowe [to Lawski]-
Attendants, take from hence these costly gifts,
And give them in the royal treasurer's care. -
[Exit Attendants.
Enter Aldona
Here comes my spotless pearl, the fair Aldona,
The choicest flower of the Litwanian vales.
Address thy speech to her.
Beauteous maid,
Accept these golden flowers from Tiber's banks,
Where they have grown, nursed by the beams of faith.
Nor deem them less in value that they are
By the brighter lustre of thine eyes eclipsed.
These costly jewels and the glare of gold,
Albeit they suit not my mourning weeds,
May serve as dying ornaments. As such
I will accept them.
Ay! I warrant me.
Like to most women, she accepts the gift,
Nor farther questions. Gold is always-gold.
[Motions to Lawski to approach Aldona. He does so, tremblingly. ]
Thou tremblest, Teuton!
[Exit Page.
[Lawski raises his visor as he approaches Aldona. She recognizes his feat-
ures, shrieks, and falls. Exit Lawski. ]
Without there!
Help there she swoons!
――――――
## p. 13516 (#330) ##########################################
13516
JULIUS SLOWACKI
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
Enter Attendants
Lutuver
Bear her hence. Pursue that knight.
[Exit Attendants with Aldona.
To Heidenric] - What means this mystery?
He said that he had vowed whilst in our train
For certain time to keep his visor down.
He's taciturn. This with his saddened air,
Together with the rose upon his helm,
The emblem of the factious house of York,
Bespeaks him English to my thought, at least.
Mindowe - Think ye such poor devices can deceive?
Lutuver-
-
I know not, sire.
――――
He is a spy ·
a base, deceitful spy.
Begone! for by my father's sepulchre
I see a dagger in my path. Begone!
I did so, sire,
But 'f all the group I least suspected him
Of treasonable practices. He's silent,
For no one understands his language here;
He keeps aloof from men, because he's sad;
He's sad, because he's poor: so ends that knight.
Mindowe [not heeding him]-
I tell thee that my very soul's pulse throbbed,
And my heart cast with quicker flow my blood,
When that young knight approached Aldona.
Now, by the gods, I do believe 'tis he-
The banished Lawski-here to dog my steps:
What thinkest thou, Lutuver?
[Exit Heidenric and Herman.
Approach, Lutuver. Didst thou see that knight
Who left so suddenly?
[Muses. ]
Slay him, sire!
If it be he, he's taken from my path;
If not-to slay a Teuton is no crime.
Mindowe Thou counselest zealously. But still, thy words
Fall not upon an ear which thinks them good.
I tell thee that this Lawski is my bane,
A living poison rankling 'fore mine eyes.
Men prate about the virtues of the man:
And if a timorous leaning to the right,
From fear to follow where the wrong directs,
Be virtue, then is he a paragon.
No wonder we are deadly foes. To me
## p. 13517 (#331) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13517
The brightness which is shed o'er all his deeds,
When placed in contact with my smothered hate,
Seems as the splendor of the noonday sun
Glancing upon some idol's horrid form,
Making its rude appearance ruder still.
One word of mine, Lutuver, might destroy
This abject snail, who crawling near my hope
Hath scared it off. But I would have him live,
And when he meets his adorable wife,--
When in th' excess of 'raptured happiness
Each fibre fills with plenitude of joy,
And naught of bliss is left to hope for, then
At fair Aldona's feet shall he expire,
And the full heart just beating 'gainst her own
Shall yield its living current for revenge.
And she-his wife-to whom I knelt in vain,
Who oft has said she courted my dislike,
And wished I'd hate her,- she shall have her wish.
[Exeunt Mindowe and Lutuver, as the curtain falls.
-
――――――――
I AM SO SAD, O GOD!
From Poets and Poetry of Poland. Copyright 1881, by Paul Soboleski
AM SO sad, O God! Thou hast before me
I
Spread a bright rainbow in the western skies,
But thou hast quenched in darkness cold and stormy
The brighter stars tha rise;
Clear grows the heaven 'neath thy transforming rod:
Still I am sad, O God!
Like empty ears of grain, with heads erected,
Have I delighted stood amid the crowd,
My face the while to stranger eyes reflected
The calm of summer's cloud;
But thou dost know the ways that I have trod,
And why I grieve, O God!
I am like to a weary infant fretting
Whene'er its mother leaves it for a while:
And grieving watch the sun, whose light in setting
Throws back a parting smile;
Though it will bathe anew the morning sod,
Still I am sad, O God!
## p. 13518 (#332) ##########################################
13518
JULIUS SLOWACKI
To-day o'er the wide waste of ocean sweeping,
Hundreds of miles away from shore or rock,
I saw the cranes fly on, together keeping
In one unbroken flock;
Their feet with soil from Poland's hills were shod,
And I was sad, O God!
Often by strangers' tombs I've lingered weary,
Since, grown a stranger to my native ways,
I walk a pilgrim through a desert dreary,
Lit but by lightning's blaze,
Knowing not where shall fall the burial clod
Upon my bier, O God!
Some time hereafter will my bones lie whitened,
Somewhere on strangers' soil, I know not where:
I envy those whose dying hours are lightened,
Fanned by their native air;
But flowers of some strange land will spring and nod
Above my grave, O God!
When, but a guileless child at home, they bade me
To pray each day for home restored, I found
My bark was steering-how the thought dismayed me—
The whole wide world around!
Those prayers unanswered, wearily I plod
Through rugged ways, O God!
Upon the rainbow, whose resplendent rafter
Thy angels rear above us in the sky,
Others will look a hundred years hereafter,
And pass away as I;
Exiled and hopeless 'neath thy chastening rod,
And sad as I, O God!
## p. 13519 (#333) ##########################################
13519
ADAM SMITH
(1723-1790)
BY RICHARD T. ELY
SPEAK of Adam Smith as the author of The Wealth of
Nations' brings before us at once his chief claim to a
place among the immortals in literature. The significance
of this work is so overwhelming that it casts into a dark shadow all
that he wrote in addition to this masterpiece. His other writings are
chiefly valued in so far as they may throw additional light upon the
doctrines of this one book. Few books in
the world's history have exerted a greater
influence on the course of human affairs;
and on account of this one work, Adam
Smith's name is familiar to all well-educated
persons in every civilized land.
Rarely does a man occupy so prominent
a position in human thought, whose person-
ality is so vague and elusive. He is gen-
erally so described that the impression is
produced of a dull and uninteresting man.
Quite the opposite must have been the
case, however; for even the few incidents
recorded of his life are sufficient to show
us, when we think about it, that he must
have been a delightful friend and companion. Adam Smith is gener-
ally associated in the popular mind with weighty disquisitions on free
trade, on labor, on value, and other economic topics; but his life was
by no means devoid of romantic touches.
ADAM SMITH
Adam Smith was born of respectable parents-his father being
a well-connected lawyer- at Kirkcaldy, Scotland, on June 5th, 1723.
His father had died three months before his birth; but he was
brought up and well educated by his mother, to whom he was most
devotedly attached. It is said, indeed, that he never recovered from
his mother's death, which took place when he was sixty years of age.
After attending a school in his native town, he was sent to the
University of Glasgow at the age of fourteen; and three years later,
obtaining an "exhibition," - or, as we say in the United States, a
scholarship, he went to Balliol College, Oxford, where he remained
## p. 13520 (#334) ##########################################
13520
ADAM SMITH
for more than six years. In 1748 he moved to Edinburgh, and deliv-
ered public lectures on rhetoric and belles-lettres. Three years later
he was appointed professor of logic in Glasgow University, and four
years later he exchanged his professorship for that of moral philoso-
phy. In 1763 he resigned his professorship, and traveled for three
years on the Continent of Europe as tutor to the Duke of Buccleuch.
From 1766 to 1776 he lived in retirement, engaged in the prepara-
tion of his great work, 'The Wealth of Nations,' which appeared in
the latter year and very soon made him famous. During the years
1776 to 1778 he lived in London, mingling with the best literary
society of the time. The year last named witnessed his return to
his native Scotland, where he chose Edinburgh as his home for the
rest of his life. Three years before his death, which occurred in
1790, he was elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow, and
was highly gratified by the honor conferred upon him.
Adam Smith was a bachelor; but we are told by Dugald Stewart,
his biographer, that he had once been warmly attached to a beautiful
and accomplished young lady. It is not known why it was that their
union was never consummated: neither one ever married. Dugald
Stewart saw the lady after the death of Adam Smith, when she was
upwards of eighty; and he stated that she "still retained evident
traces of her former beauty. The power of her understanding and
the gayety of her temper seemed to have suffered nothing from the
hand of time. "
Adam Smith was not a voluminous writer, and some of the MSS.
which he did compose were destroyed by his order. His works, how-
ever, show a wide range of thought and study. One brief treatise of
some note is entitled 'A Dissertation on the Origin of Languages. '
Three essays deal with the Principles which Lead and Direct Philo-
sophical Inquiries as Illustrated' - first, by the History of Ancient
Astronomy; second, by the History of Ancient Physics'; third, by
'Ancient Logic and Metaphysics. ' Other essays are on 'The Imi-
tative Arts'; 'Music,' 'Dancing,' 'Poetry'; 'The External Senses';
'English and Italian Verses. '
(
A few words must be devoted to the Theory of Moral Senti-
ments' before hastening on to the 'Wealth of Nations. ' The former
is an ambitious work, and one which in itself has considerable merit.
Moreover, it is significant because it is part of a large treatise on
moral philosophy which Smith planned. This treatise was to have
embraced four parts: first, 'Natural Theology'; second, 'Ethics';
third, 'Jurisprudence'; fourth, Police, Revenue, and Arms. ' The sec-
ond part is The Moral Sentiments'; and in the Wealth of Nations'
he presented the fourth part, as he himself tells us. Unfortunately,
he has not given the world the first and third parts, which however
## p. 13521 (#335) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13521
were embraced in his lectures to his students while he was professor
of moral philosophy in the University of Glasgow.
The Theory of Moral Sentiments,' it has been maintained, would
have achieved renown for its author, and a place for him in liter-
ature, had it been presented to the world simply as a collection of
essays on the topics with which it deals; viz. , the Propriety and
Impropriety of Actions,' their 'Merit and Demerit,' 'Virtue,' 'Just-
ice, Duty,' etc. The essays are finely written, full of subtle analy-
sis and truthful illustration. The book is least significant, however,
as philosophy; because it lacks any profound examination of the
foundation upon which the author's views rest.
The guiding principle of the 'Moral Sentiments' is sympathy,
or fellow feeling; not merely pity or compassion, but feeling with
our fellows in their joys as well as sorrows. This sympathy is
distinguished from self-love, and it is described as something given
to man by nature. This idea is brought out by the opening words,
which are these: "How selfish soever man may be supposed, there
is evidently some principle in his nature which interests him in
the fortune of others, and renders their happiness necessary to him;
though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it. "
The full title of Adam Smith's great work, ordinarily given as
simply the Wealth of Nations,' is 'An Inquiry into the Nature and
Causes of the Wealth of Nations. ' The date of the appearance of
this book - viz. , 1776— is a significant one, for it recalls the Declara-
tion of Independence. Both of them were the outcome of the same
political and social philosophy; both of them were protests against
ancient wrongs and abuses.
The 'Wealth of Nations' appeared when the industrial revolution
was fairly under way; inventions and discoveries had begun their
transformation of industrial society. Old forms and methods were no
longer sufficient for the growing, expanding life of this "springtime
of the nations"; these springtimes of the nations recur at intervals,
and a great deal of rubbish has to be cleared away to make room for
new life. Adam Smith's work was largely negative. One biographer
of him, Mr. R. B. Haldane, speaks of him as "one of the greatest
vanquishers of error on record. " He regarded himself as the advo-
cate of a system of natural liberty: "nature" and "liberty" are two
perpetually recurring words; they must be associated, to understand.
the economic philosophy of the Wealth of Nations. ' One of the
assumptions underlying this book is that of a beneficent order of
nature lying back of all human institutions. The cry of the age was
"back to nature. " Rousseau gave loud utterance to this watchword,
and it was echoed and re-echoed by the writers and thinkers of
the eighteenth century, both great and small. Nature, it was held,
XXIII-846
## p. 13522 (#336) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13522
has done all things well; everything proceeding from the hands of
nature is good: what is evil in the world is man's artificial product;
before man interfered with nature there was the "golden age," and
to this "golden age" we must somehow get back. We must break
away from human contrivances, and seek for the order prescribed
by nature. Consequently we have perpetually recurring demand for
natural rights, natural liberty, natural law.
Nature has implanted in man self-interest, and the operation of
self-interest in the individual man is socially beneficent. Nature has
so ordered things that each man in seeking his own welfare will
best promote the welfare of his fellows. We must simply leave
nature alone, and give fair play to natural forces to bring about the
largest production of wealth. The causes of the wealth of nations
must be sought in the manifold actions of self-interest of individu-
als. The Wealth of Nations,' then, is a protest against restraints
and restrictions; it is directed against what was held to be the over-
government, but what subsequent history has shown to be rather
the unwise and unjust government, of that period. Careful exam-
ination of modern nations, especially as revealed in their financial
expenditures, shows that as modern nations have progressed, the act-
ivities of government have undergone immense expansion, but have
changed their direction and have altered their methods; their spirit
and purpose are different.
The abuses against which Adam Smith chiefly protested were
restrictions upon the freedom of trade, and the exclusive privileges
of ancient guilds and corporations, and laws directed against labor.
He was in principle a free-trader. His anti-monopoly views, however,
are equally pronounced.
It is important to notice one thing in connection with Adam
Smith's protest against labor laws; and that is, that he had in mind
laws aimed to control labor in the interest of the employer, and not
laws like our modern labor laws, the purpose of which is to protect
and advance the interests of labor. He said, indeed, in one place,
that if any labor law should chance to be in the interest of labor, it
was sure to be a just law. This ought not to be forgotten in com-
paring his spirit with that of modern writers who protest against
labor legislation. He was warmly humanitarian, and his ruling pas-
sion was to benefit mankind. On his death-bed he expressed regret
that he had been able to do so little.
Adam Smith was far from being a mere doctrinaire. He had the
practical disposition of the Scotchman, and was a close observer of
life. Common-sense, then, was one of his chief characteristics; and
he never hesitated to make exceptions to general principles when this
was required by concrete conditions. Free trade, for example, was
## p. 13523 (#337) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13523
a good thing; but he at once recognized that changes in tariff poli-
cies must be made with due regard to existing interests which had
grown up under a different policy. Private action in the sphere of
education was in accord with his philosophy; yet he could say that
under certain circumstances it might be wise for the government to
foster education, especially in a country with democratic institutions.
Even in so brief a sketch as this, a word must be said about
Adam Smith's position with respect to labor. He opens the 'Wealth
of Nations' with the statement that "The annual labor of every
nation is the fund which originally supplies it with all the necessa-
ries and conveniences of life which it annually consumes. " One school
of writers, the Mercantilists, had held that the main thing in the
advancement of the wealth of nations was foreign trade. A later
school, valued highly by Smith,- viz. , the Physiocrats,- had main-
tained that in the rent of land must be sought the causes of the
increase of wealth. It is doubtless as a protest against both these
schools that Adam Smith states that the original fund of wealth is
labor. He wants to make labor central and pivotal. Rodbertus, the
German socialist, has claimed that his socialism consists simply in an
elaboration of Adam Smith's doctrine of labor; but this is undoubt-
edly going too far.
All the economists before the time of Adam Smith must be re-
garded as his predecessors; all the economists who have lived since
Adam Smith have carried on his work: and his position in econom-
ics is therefore somewhat like that of Darwin in natural science. There
are many schools among modern economists, but their work all stands
in some relation to that large work of this "old master. "
The centenary of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations' was cele-
brated in 1876; and it was at that time stated that no other work
had enjoyed the honor of a centennial commemoration. Statesmen in
all nations have been influenced by it. Buckle, with his customary
exaggeration, makes this statement: "Well may it be said of Adam
Smith, and that too without fear of contradiction, that this solitary
Scotchman has, by the publication of one single work, contributed
more to the happiness of man than has been effected by the united
abilities of all the statesmen and legislators of whom history has pre-
sented an authentic account. " Even the more careful Bagehot used
these words: "The life of nearly every one in England - perhaps of
every one-is different and better in consequence of it. No other
form of political philosophy has ever had one thousandth part of the
influence on us. "
Richard
даву
## p. 13524 (#338) ##########################################
13524
ADAM SMITH
THE PRUDENT MAN
From the Theory of Moral Sentiments›
THE
HE prudent man always studies seriously and earnestly to
understand whatever he professes to understand, and not
merely to persuade other people that he understands it;
and though his talents may not always be very brilliant, they are
always perfectly genuine. He neither endeavors to impose upon
you by the cunning devices of an artful impostor, nor by the
arrogant airs of an assuming pedant, nor by the confident asser-
tions of a superficial and impudent pretender: he is not osten-
tatious even of the abilities which he really possesses. His
conversation is simple and modest; and he is averse to all the
quackish arts by which other people so frequently thrust them-
selves into public notice and reputation. For reputation in his
profession he is naturally disposed to rely a good deal upon the
solidity of his knowledge and abilities: and he does not always
think of cultivating the favor of those little clubs and cabals,
who, in the superior arts and sciences, so often erect themselves
into the supreme judges of merit; and who make it their busi-
ness to celebrate the talents and virtues of one another, and to
decry whatever can come into competition with them. If he ever
connects himself with any society of this kind, it is merely in
self-defense; not with a view to impose upon the public, but to
hinder the public from being imposed upon, to his disadvantage,
by the clamors, the whispers, or the intrigues, either of that par-
ticular society or of some other of the same kind.
The prudent man is always sincere; and feels horror at the
very thought of exposing himself to the disgrace which attends
upon the detection of falsehood. But though always sincere, he
is not always frank and open; and though he never tells anything
but the truth, he does not always think himself bound, when not
properly called upon, to tell the whole truth. As he is cautious
in his actions, so he is reserved in his speech; and never rashly
or unnecessarily obtrudes his opinion concerning either things or
persons.
The prudent man, though not always distinguished by the
most exquisite sensibility, is always very capable of friendship.
But his friendship is not that ardent and passionate but too often
transitory affection, which appears so delicious to the generosity
of youth and inexperience. It is a sedate but steady and faith-
ful attachment to a few well-tried and well-chosen companions;
## p. 13525 (#339) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13525
in the choice of whom he is guided not by the giddy admiration
of shining accomplishments, but by the sober esteem of modesty,
discretion, and good conduct. But though capable of friendship,
he is not always much disposed to general sociality. He rarely
frequents, and more rarely figures in, those convivial societies.
which are distinguished for the jollity and gayety of their con-
versation. Their way of life might too often interfere with the
regularity of his temperance, might interrupt the steadiness of
his industry, or break in upon the strictness of his frugality.
But though his conversation may not always be very sprightly
or diverting, it is always perfectly inoffensive. He hates the
thought of being guilty of any petulance or rudeness; he never
assumes impertinently over anybody, and upon all common occas-
ions is willing to place himself rather below than above his
equals. Both in his conduct and conversation he is an exact
observer of decency; and respects, with an almost religious scru-
pulosity, all the established decorums and ceremonials of society.
And in this respect he sets a much better example than has fre-
quently been done by men of much more splendid talents and
virtues, who in all ages-from that of Socrates and Aristip-
pus down to that of Dr. Swift and Voltaire, and from that of
Philip and Alexander the Great down to that of the great Czar
Peter of Moscovy-have too often distinguished themselves by
the most improper and even insolent contempt of all the ordi-
nary decorums of life and conversation, and who have thereby
set the most pernicious example to those who wish to resemble
them, and who too often content themselves with imitating their
follies without even attempting to attain their perfections.
In the steadiness of his industry and frugality, in his steadily
sacrificing the ease and enjoyment of the present moment for the
probable expectation of the still greater ease and enjoyment of a
more distant but more lasting period of time, the prudent man
is always both supported and rewarded by the entire approbation
of the impartial spectator, and of the representative of the
impartial spectator,- the man within the breast. The impartial
spectator does not feel himself worn out by the present labor
of those whose conduct he surveys; nor does he feel himself
solicited by the importunate calls of their present appetites. To
him their present, and what is likely to be their future, situation
are very nearly the same; he sees them nearly at the same dis-
tance, and is affected by them very nearly in the same manner:
he knows, however, that to the persons principally concerned.
## p. 13526 (#340) ##########################################
13526
ADAM SMITH
.
they are very far from being the same, and that they naturally
affect them in a very different manner. He cannot therefore
but approve, and even applaud, that proper exertion of self-
command which enables them to act as if their present and their
future situation affected them nearly in the same manner in
which they affect him.
The man who lives within his income is naturally contented
with his situation, which by continual though small accumulations
is growing better and better every day. He is enabled gradually
to relax, both in the rigor of his parsimony and in the sever-
ity of his application; and he feels with double satisfaction this
gradual increase of ease and enjoyment, from having felt before
the hardship which attended the want of them. He has no
anxiety to change so comfortable a situation; and does not go
in quest of new enterprises and adventures, which might endan-
ger, but could not well increase, the secure tranquillity which he
actually enjoys. If he enters into any new projects or enter-
prises, they are likely to be well concerted and well prepared.
He can never be hurried or driven into them by any necessity,
but has always time and leisure to deliberate soberly and coolly
concerning what are likely to be their consequences.
The prudent man is not willing to subject himself to any
responsibility which his duty does not impose upon him. He is
not a bustler in business where he has no concern; is not a
meddler in other people's affairs; is not a professed counselor
or adviser, who obtrudes his advice where nobody is asking it;
he confines himself, as much as his duty will permit, to his own
affairs, and has no taste for that foolish importance which many
people wish to derive from appearing to have some influence in
the management of those of other people; he is averse to enter
into any party disputes, hates faction, and is not always very
forward to listen to the voice even of noble and great ambition.
families, and Mickiewicz, the favorite of the
great, were patriots of a more aristocratic
mold. Upon them all fell the mighty
shadow of Byron; and in none was the
Byronic spirit more perfectly reincarnated
than in Slowacki. He surpassed his master;
and although he outgrew this influence, and
drew loftier inspiration from Shakespeare
JULIUS SLOWACKI
and Calderon, he retained to the end the traces of "Satanic" pessi-
mism. In a rough classification of the members of this brilliant triad,
Mickiewicz, the master of the epic and lyric, may be called the poet
of the present; Krasinski, the prophet and seer, the poet through
whom the future spoke; while Slowacki, the dramatist, was the pan-
egyrist of the past.
Julius Slowacki was born at Krzemieniec on August 23d, 1809.
His father was a professor of some note at the University of Vilna,
where the lad received his education. His mother idolized and
spoiled him, sowing the seeds of that supreme self-love which became
in him a moral malady. From the first he had the conscious resolve
to become a great poet. Upon leaving the university in 1828 he
entered the uncongenial service of the State. Two years later he
## p. 13509 (#323) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13509
abandoned his post; and left Poland to be thenceforth a homeless
wanderer. During the period of his official bondage in Warsaw he
produced his early Byronic tales in verse: 'Hugo,' a romance of
the Crusades, 'Mnich' (The Monk), 'Jan Bielecki,' 'The Arab,' etc.
They are distinguished by boldness of fancy and great beauty of
diction; but their gloomy pessimistic tone ran counter to the prevail-
ing taste of that still hopeful time, and the day of their popularity
was deferred until renewed misfortunes had chastened the public
heart. Two dramas belong to the same period,-'Mindowe and
'Mary Stuart. › The scene of the former is laid in the ancient days
before Christianity had been established in Lithuania; the latter chal-
lenges comparison with Schiller's play, and surpasses it in dramatic
vigor. It is still a favorite in the repertoire of the Polish theatres.
Slowacki delighted in powerful overmastering natures: it was the
demonic in man that most appealed to him; and that element in
his own nature during the turbulent days of 1830 and 1831 burst
forth into revolutionary song. His fine 'Ode to Freedom,' the fer-
vid Hymn to the Mother of God,' and the ringing martial spirit of
his 'Song of the Lithuanian Legion,' stirred all hearts, and raised
Slowacki at once to the front rank among the poetic exponents of
the Polish national idea.
When in 1832 Slowacki settled in Geneva, a new period in his
literary career began: he emerged from the shadow of Byron, and
his treatment of life became more robust and earnest. Unconsciously
his Kordjan came to resemble Conrad in the third part of Mickie-
wicz's 'Dziady' (In Honor of our Ancestors). The first two acts of
this powerful drama are still somewhat in the Byronic manner, but
the last three acts are among the finest in the whole range of
Polish dramatic literature. The theme is patriotic: the hero plunges
into a conspiracy at Warsaw to overthrow the Czar; but at the criti-
cal moment the man is found wanting, and because he puts forth
no adequate effort he miserably fails. This dramatically impressive
but morally impotent conclusion reveals the ineradicable pessimism
of the poet's mind. Kordjan is of that irresolute Slavic type which
Sienkiewicz has so mercilessly analyzed in 'Without Dogma. ' To
this same period of Slowacki's greatest productivity belong the two
splendid tragedies Mazepa' and 'Balladyna. ' In 'Mazepa is all
the fresh vigor of the wind-swept plains; it has a dramatic quality
that reminds of Calderon, and maintains itself with unabated popu-
larity upon the Polish stage. 'Balladyna' is the most original of all
the poet's creations. Shakespeare superseded Byron; but the master
now inspired and no longer dominated. Lilla Weneda,' of later
date, was the second part of an unfinished trilogy, of which Balla-
dyna' was the first: the design of the whole was to recreate the
## p. 13510 (#324) ##########################################
13510
JULIUS SLOWACKI
mythical traditions of Poland. On this ancient background is por-
trayed the conflict of two peoples; and it is characteristic of the poet
that he allows the nobler race to succumb to the ruder.
It was during Slowacki's Swiss sojourn also that he wrote one
of the finest lyric gems of Polish poetry, 'In Switzerland. ' In it he
immortalized the Polish maiden who for too short a time ruled his
wayward nature in a brief but beautiful dream of love. In Rome
in 1836 he met Krasinski, to whose lofty inspiration his own soul
responded. During a trip in the Orient he wrote his deeply pathetic
poem Ojciec Zadzumionych' (The Father of the Plague-Stricken).
Upon this doomed man, as upon Job, is heaped misfortune on mis-
fortune until human capacity for suffering is exhausted, and the man
becomes a stony monument of misery. There is an overwhelming
directness of presentation in this poem that suggests the agony of the
marble Laocoön. It surpasses Byron at his best.
In 1837 Slowacki rejoined Krasinski in Florence, and under his in-
fluence wrote in Biblical style the allegory of 'Anhelli. ' It is a song
of sorrow for the sufferings of Poland and her exiled patriots; but it
loses itself at last in the marsh of mystic Messianism into which the
masterful but vulgar Towianski lured many of the nobler spirits of
Poland, including Mickiewicz. Krasinski resisted, and the two friends
were separated. Slowacki and his greater rival were stranded on the
shoal of Towianism. The works which he had written in Switzer-
land he began to publish in Paris in 1838; but 'Beniowski' was the
only work of art that he wrote after that time. This is a lyric-epic
of self-criticism. His works thenceforth were water-logged with
mysticism, and do not belong to the domain of art. In 'Król Duch'
(King Mind) this madness reaches its height. Embittered and out of
touch with the world, he died in Paris on April 3d, 1849.
Slowacki surpassed all his contemporaries in the magnificent
flights of his imagination, and in the glowing richness of his language
and imagery. His dramas are among the chief ornaments of Polish
literature; and his beautiful letters to his mother should be men-
tioned as perfect gems of epistolary style. His contempt for details
of form and composition seems sometimes like a conscious defiance
of the recognized requirements of art; but the splendid exuberance of
his thought and fancy ranks him among the great poets of the nine-
teenth century. He was keenly alive to the faults and failings of
his countrymen, as is shown in his 'Incorrigibles'; but in the temple
of Polish fame his place is secure at the left of Mickiewicz, at whose
right stands Krasinski with the 'Psalm of Sorrow' in his hand.
## p. 13511 (#325) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13511
FROM MINDOWE'
In 'Poets and Poetry of Poland. ' Copyright 1881, by Paul Soboleski
[Mindowe, king of Litwania, having embraced the Christian religion, his
blind mother Ronelva and his nephew Troinace conspire to effect his death.
Mindowe has banished Lawski, the prince of Nalzhaski, and essayed to win
the affections of his wife. Lawski, not having been heard of for some time,
is supposed to be dead. The scene opens just after the baptismal rites of the
monarch. ]
Scene: The royal presence chamber. Enter Casimir and Basil, from dif-
ferent sides
Casimir
Basil
Casimir
――――――
Troinace
Ronelva
Beneath a-
Basil [interrupting him] — Hold! knowest thou not
B
Ronelva
ASIL
Saw you the rites to-day, my Casimir?
Casimir
I saw what may I never see again,-
The altars of our ancient faith torn down,
Our king a base apostate, groveling
-
-
-
The ancient saw that "Palace walls have ears"?
The priests throng round us like intruding flies,
And latitude of speech is fatal.
True
I should speak cautiously. But hast seen
The prince?
Who? Troinace?
―――――
The same.
Ha! here he comes, and with the queen-mother;
It is not safe to parley in their presence.
Along with me: I've secrets for thine ear.
Hence
Ronelva enters, leaning upon the arm of Troinace, and engaged with
him in conversation.
Thou hast a son, Ronelva, crowned a king!
Is he alive? with sight my memory fails.
Once I beheld the world, but now 'tis dark-
My soul is locked in sleep-O God! O God!
My son hast seen my royal son- the King,
Thy uncle, Troinace? How is he arrayed?
Troinace In regal robes, and with a jeweled cross
Sparkling upon his breast.
[Exit Casimir and Basil.
A cross! -what cross?
'Tis not a symbol of his sovereignty-
## p. 13512 (#326) ##########################################
13512
JULIUS SLOWACKI
Troinace
Ronelva
A pause. Then enter Mindowe, crowned, and arrayed in purple, with a
diamond cross upon his breast, and accompanied by Heidenric, the Pope's
legate. Herman precedes them bearing a golden cross. Lawski, dis-
guised as a Teutonic Knight, with a rose upon his helmet, and his visor
down, bearing a casket. Lutuver attending the King. Lawski stands
apart.
Mindowe -
It is a gift made by his new ally,
The Pope.
Ronelva I feel that kindred blood is near, Mindowe!
Thy mother speaks! approach!
The Pope! - The Pope! I know none such!
Who is this Pope! - Is't he who sends new gods
To old Litwania? Yes - I've heard of him.
Mindowe -
My mother! why
These tones and words sarcastic? Knowest thou not
That victory perches on another's helm ?
I am at peace, and am — a Christian king.
Ronelva Foul shame on thee, blasphemer! Hast thou fallen
As low as this? Where is thy bold ambition?
To what base use hast placed thy ancient fame?
Is't cast aside like to some foolish toy
Ronelva-
[He approaches.
Hast thou returned
From some new expedition. Is thy brow
Covered with laurels, and thy stores
Replete with plunder? Do I hear the shouts,
Th' applause of the Litwanians, hailing thee
As conqueror? Returnest thou from Zmudie,
From Dwina's shores triumphant? Has the Russian Bear
Trembled before thy sword? Does Halicz fear
Thy angry frown? Speak! with a mother's tears
I'll hail the conqueror.
No longer worth the hoarding? Shame upon
Thy craven spirit! Canst thou live without
That glorious food, which e'en a peasant craves,
Holding it worthless as thy mother's love,
And thy brave father's faith?
Nay, mother, nay!
Dismiss these foolish fancies from thy brain.
Behold! my jeweled brow is bent before thee.
Oh, bless thy son!
Thou vile apostate! Thou
Dare ask for approbation? Thou! -I curse thee!
## p. 13513 (#327) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13513
Mindowe-
Ronelva
Mindowe
Sorrow and hate pursue thy faltering steps.
Still may thy foes prove victors; subjects false;
Thy drink be venom, and thy joy be woe.
Thy mind filled with remorse, still mayst thou live,
Seeking for death, but wooing it in vain,—
A foul, detested, blasted renegade.
――――
I have bestowed to earth a viper; but
From thee shall vipers spring, who like their sire
Shall traitors be unto their native land,
Heidenric
And eager plunge them into ruin's stream!
Depart! and bear thy mother's curse!
Mindowe [speaking as though awe-stricken] -
Heard ye that curse?
Heidenric-
-
My mother-
Call me not mother, viper!
I do disclaim thee;- thee and all thy seed!
[Exit Ronelva, leaning on Troinace.
-
What are the frantic words
Of a revengeful woman? Empty air-
A mother's curse! It carries pestilence,
Blight, misery, and sorrow in its train.
No matter! It is, as the legate says,
But "empty air. »
[To Heidenric]— What message do you bear?
Thus to the great Litwanian king, Pope Innocent
(Fourth of the name who've worn the papal crown)
Sends greeting: Thou whose power extends
From farthest Baltic to the shores of Crim,
Go on and prosper. Though unto thy creed
He thinks thy heart is true, still would he prove -
[Mindowe starts, and exclaims "Ha! "]
Send thou to him as neighboring monarchs do
An annual tribute. So he'll bless thy arms
That ere another year elapses Russ' shall yield,
And Halicz fall before thy conquering sword.
Mindowe Thanks to the Pope. I'll profit by his leave;
I'll throw my troops in Muscovy, and scourge
The hordes of Halicz, move in every place
Like an avenging brand, and say The Pope
Hath given me power. But, hark ye! legate,
What needs so great a priest as he of Rome
Mother,
―――――
## p. 13514 (#328) ##########################################
13514
JULIUS SLOWACKI
With my red gold to buy him corn and oil?
Explain! I do not understand the riddle.
Heidenric-He merely asks it as a pledge of friendship,
But nothing more. The proudest kings of Europe
Yield him such tribute.
Mindowe
Heidenric-
A gift-
A precious relic of most potent virtue.
Thou'st heard of St. Sebastian? holy man!
He died a martyr. This which brought him death
Is sent unto thee by his Holiness
[Presents a rusty spear-head. ]
Mindowe - Fie on such relics! I could give thy Pope
A thousand such! This dagger by my side
Had hung from childhood. It has drunk the blood
Of many a foe that vexed my wrath; and oft
Among them there were men, and holy men,
As holy, sir, as e'er was St. Sebastian.
Heidenric-Peace, thou blasphemer!
Mindowe [angrily]-
How! dost thou wish thy head
To stand in safety on thy shoulders?
What means this insolence, sir legate?
Think'st thou that I shall kneel, and bow, and fawn,
And put thy master's iron yoke upon me?
They act not freely whom the fetters bind,
And none shall forge such galling chains for me!
There's not one more Mindowe in the world,
Nor is your Pope a crowned Litwanian king.
Heidenric-I speak but as the representative
Of power supreme o'er earthly monarchs.
Mindowe Thou doest well to shelter thus thyself
Under the shield of thy legation. Hast
Aught more to utter of thy master's words,
Aught more to give?
I have a gift to make
Unto thy queen.
The queen hath lain, sir prince,
In cold corruption for a twelvemonth back.
What means this mockery?
Heidenric
Tribute! -base priest!
Whene'er thy master asks for tribute, this-
[Striking his sword. ]
Is my reply. What hast thou there?
Mindowe —
—
## p. 13515 (#329) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13515
Heidenric-
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
-
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
Aldona -
It was not known unto his Holiness.
The forests of Litwania are so dark
They shut her doings from her neighbor's ken.
If then the queen be dead, who shall receive
This goodly gift?
My mother
If I may judge
By what I heard e'en now, she'd not accept
Our offering.
Mindowe
Then give the gorgeous gaw
To Lawski's widow-she who soon will be
My crownèd queen.
Summon her hither, page.
Heidenric [aside] -
--
Pardon, my lord!
Mindowe [to Lawski]-
Attendants, take from hence these costly gifts,
And give them in the royal treasurer's care. -
[Exit Attendants.
Enter Aldona
Here comes my spotless pearl, the fair Aldona,
The choicest flower of the Litwanian vales.
Address thy speech to her.
Beauteous maid,
Accept these golden flowers from Tiber's banks,
Where they have grown, nursed by the beams of faith.
Nor deem them less in value that they are
By the brighter lustre of thine eyes eclipsed.
These costly jewels and the glare of gold,
Albeit they suit not my mourning weeds,
May serve as dying ornaments. As such
I will accept them.
Ay! I warrant me.
Like to most women, she accepts the gift,
Nor farther questions. Gold is always-gold.
[Motions to Lawski to approach Aldona. He does so, tremblingly. ]
Thou tremblest, Teuton!
[Exit Page.
[Lawski raises his visor as he approaches Aldona. She recognizes his feat-
ures, shrieks, and falls. Exit Lawski. ]
Without there!
Help there she swoons!
――――――
## p. 13516 (#330) ##########################################
13516
JULIUS SLOWACKI
Mindowe-
Heidenric-
Enter Attendants
Lutuver
Bear her hence. Pursue that knight.
[Exit Attendants with Aldona.
To Heidenric] - What means this mystery?
He said that he had vowed whilst in our train
For certain time to keep his visor down.
He's taciturn. This with his saddened air,
Together with the rose upon his helm,
The emblem of the factious house of York,
Bespeaks him English to my thought, at least.
Mindowe - Think ye such poor devices can deceive?
Lutuver-
-
I know not, sire.
――――
He is a spy ·
a base, deceitful spy.
Begone! for by my father's sepulchre
I see a dagger in my path. Begone!
I did so, sire,
But 'f all the group I least suspected him
Of treasonable practices. He's silent,
For no one understands his language here;
He keeps aloof from men, because he's sad;
He's sad, because he's poor: so ends that knight.
Mindowe [not heeding him]-
I tell thee that my very soul's pulse throbbed,
And my heart cast with quicker flow my blood,
When that young knight approached Aldona.
Now, by the gods, I do believe 'tis he-
The banished Lawski-here to dog my steps:
What thinkest thou, Lutuver?
[Exit Heidenric and Herman.
Approach, Lutuver. Didst thou see that knight
Who left so suddenly?
[Muses. ]
Slay him, sire!
If it be he, he's taken from my path;
If not-to slay a Teuton is no crime.
Mindowe Thou counselest zealously. But still, thy words
Fall not upon an ear which thinks them good.
I tell thee that this Lawski is my bane,
A living poison rankling 'fore mine eyes.
Men prate about the virtues of the man:
And if a timorous leaning to the right,
From fear to follow where the wrong directs,
Be virtue, then is he a paragon.
No wonder we are deadly foes. To me
## p. 13517 (#331) ##########################################
JULIUS SLOWACKI
13517
The brightness which is shed o'er all his deeds,
When placed in contact with my smothered hate,
Seems as the splendor of the noonday sun
Glancing upon some idol's horrid form,
Making its rude appearance ruder still.
One word of mine, Lutuver, might destroy
This abject snail, who crawling near my hope
Hath scared it off. But I would have him live,
And when he meets his adorable wife,--
When in th' excess of 'raptured happiness
Each fibre fills with plenitude of joy,
And naught of bliss is left to hope for, then
At fair Aldona's feet shall he expire,
And the full heart just beating 'gainst her own
Shall yield its living current for revenge.
And she-his wife-to whom I knelt in vain,
Who oft has said she courted my dislike,
And wished I'd hate her,- she shall have her wish.
[Exeunt Mindowe and Lutuver, as the curtain falls.
-
――――――――
I AM SO SAD, O GOD!
From Poets and Poetry of Poland. Copyright 1881, by Paul Soboleski
AM SO sad, O God! Thou hast before me
I
Spread a bright rainbow in the western skies,
But thou hast quenched in darkness cold and stormy
The brighter stars tha rise;
Clear grows the heaven 'neath thy transforming rod:
Still I am sad, O God!
Like empty ears of grain, with heads erected,
Have I delighted stood amid the crowd,
My face the while to stranger eyes reflected
The calm of summer's cloud;
But thou dost know the ways that I have trod,
And why I grieve, O God!
I am like to a weary infant fretting
Whene'er its mother leaves it for a while:
And grieving watch the sun, whose light in setting
Throws back a parting smile;
Though it will bathe anew the morning sod,
Still I am sad, O God!
## p. 13518 (#332) ##########################################
13518
JULIUS SLOWACKI
To-day o'er the wide waste of ocean sweeping,
Hundreds of miles away from shore or rock,
I saw the cranes fly on, together keeping
In one unbroken flock;
Their feet with soil from Poland's hills were shod,
And I was sad, O God!
Often by strangers' tombs I've lingered weary,
Since, grown a stranger to my native ways,
I walk a pilgrim through a desert dreary,
Lit but by lightning's blaze,
Knowing not where shall fall the burial clod
Upon my bier, O God!
Some time hereafter will my bones lie whitened,
Somewhere on strangers' soil, I know not where:
I envy those whose dying hours are lightened,
Fanned by their native air;
But flowers of some strange land will spring and nod
Above my grave, O God!
When, but a guileless child at home, they bade me
To pray each day for home restored, I found
My bark was steering-how the thought dismayed me—
The whole wide world around!
Those prayers unanswered, wearily I plod
Through rugged ways, O God!
Upon the rainbow, whose resplendent rafter
Thy angels rear above us in the sky,
Others will look a hundred years hereafter,
And pass away as I;
Exiled and hopeless 'neath thy chastening rod,
And sad as I, O God!
## p. 13519 (#333) ##########################################
13519
ADAM SMITH
(1723-1790)
BY RICHARD T. ELY
SPEAK of Adam Smith as the author of The Wealth of
Nations' brings before us at once his chief claim to a
place among the immortals in literature. The significance
of this work is so overwhelming that it casts into a dark shadow all
that he wrote in addition to this masterpiece. His other writings are
chiefly valued in so far as they may throw additional light upon the
doctrines of this one book. Few books in
the world's history have exerted a greater
influence on the course of human affairs;
and on account of this one work, Adam
Smith's name is familiar to all well-educated
persons in every civilized land.
Rarely does a man occupy so prominent
a position in human thought, whose person-
ality is so vague and elusive. He is gen-
erally so described that the impression is
produced of a dull and uninteresting man.
Quite the opposite must have been the
case, however; for even the few incidents
recorded of his life are sufficient to show
us, when we think about it, that he must
have been a delightful friend and companion. Adam Smith is gener-
ally associated in the popular mind with weighty disquisitions on free
trade, on labor, on value, and other economic topics; but his life was
by no means devoid of romantic touches.
ADAM SMITH
Adam Smith was born of respectable parents-his father being
a well-connected lawyer- at Kirkcaldy, Scotland, on June 5th, 1723.
His father had died three months before his birth; but he was
brought up and well educated by his mother, to whom he was most
devotedly attached. It is said, indeed, that he never recovered from
his mother's death, which took place when he was sixty years of age.
After attending a school in his native town, he was sent to the
University of Glasgow at the age of fourteen; and three years later,
obtaining an "exhibition," - or, as we say in the United States, a
scholarship, he went to Balliol College, Oxford, where he remained
## p. 13520 (#334) ##########################################
13520
ADAM SMITH
for more than six years. In 1748 he moved to Edinburgh, and deliv-
ered public lectures on rhetoric and belles-lettres. Three years later
he was appointed professor of logic in Glasgow University, and four
years later he exchanged his professorship for that of moral philoso-
phy. In 1763 he resigned his professorship, and traveled for three
years on the Continent of Europe as tutor to the Duke of Buccleuch.
From 1766 to 1776 he lived in retirement, engaged in the prepara-
tion of his great work, 'The Wealth of Nations,' which appeared in
the latter year and very soon made him famous. During the years
1776 to 1778 he lived in London, mingling with the best literary
society of the time. The year last named witnessed his return to
his native Scotland, where he chose Edinburgh as his home for the
rest of his life. Three years before his death, which occurred in
1790, he was elected Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow, and
was highly gratified by the honor conferred upon him.
Adam Smith was a bachelor; but we are told by Dugald Stewart,
his biographer, that he had once been warmly attached to a beautiful
and accomplished young lady. It is not known why it was that their
union was never consummated: neither one ever married. Dugald
Stewart saw the lady after the death of Adam Smith, when she was
upwards of eighty; and he stated that she "still retained evident
traces of her former beauty. The power of her understanding and
the gayety of her temper seemed to have suffered nothing from the
hand of time. "
Adam Smith was not a voluminous writer, and some of the MSS.
which he did compose were destroyed by his order. His works, how-
ever, show a wide range of thought and study. One brief treatise of
some note is entitled 'A Dissertation on the Origin of Languages. '
Three essays deal with the Principles which Lead and Direct Philo-
sophical Inquiries as Illustrated' - first, by the History of Ancient
Astronomy; second, by the History of Ancient Physics'; third, by
'Ancient Logic and Metaphysics. ' Other essays are on 'The Imi-
tative Arts'; 'Music,' 'Dancing,' 'Poetry'; 'The External Senses';
'English and Italian Verses. '
(
A few words must be devoted to the Theory of Moral Senti-
ments' before hastening on to the 'Wealth of Nations. ' The former
is an ambitious work, and one which in itself has considerable merit.
Moreover, it is significant because it is part of a large treatise on
moral philosophy which Smith planned. This treatise was to have
embraced four parts: first, 'Natural Theology'; second, 'Ethics';
third, 'Jurisprudence'; fourth, Police, Revenue, and Arms. ' The sec-
ond part is The Moral Sentiments'; and in the Wealth of Nations'
he presented the fourth part, as he himself tells us. Unfortunately,
he has not given the world the first and third parts, which however
## p. 13521 (#335) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13521
were embraced in his lectures to his students while he was professor
of moral philosophy in the University of Glasgow.
The Theory of Moral Sentiments,' it has been maintained, would
have achieved renown for its author, and a place for him in liter-
ature, had it been presented to the world simply as a collection of
essays on the topics with which it deals; viz. , the Propriety and
Impropriety of Actions,' their 'Merit and Demerit,' 'Virtue,' 'Just-
ice, Duty,' etc. The essays are finely written, full of subtle analy-
sis and truthful illustration. The book is least significant, however,
as philosophy; because it lacks any profound examination of the
foundation upon which the author's views rest.
The guiding principle of the 'Moral Sentiments' is sympathy,
or fellow feeling; not merely pity or compassion, but feeling with
our fellows in their joys as well as sorrows. This sympathy is
distinguished from self-love, and it is described as something given
to man by nature. This idea is brought out by the opening words,
which are these: "How selfish soever man may be supposed, there
is evidently some principle in his nature which interests him in
the fortune of others, and renders their happiness necessary to him;
though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it. "
The full title of Adam Smith's great work, ordinarily given as
simply the Wealth of Nations,' is 'An Inquiry into the Nature and
Causes of the Wealth of Nations. ' The date of the appearance of
this book - viz. , 1776— is a significant one, for it recalls the Declara-
tion of Independence. Both of them were the outcome of the same
political and social philosophy; both of them were protests against
ancient wrongs and abuses.
The 'Wealth of Nations' appeared when the industrial revolution
was fairly under way; inventions and discoveries had begun their
transformation of industrial society. Old forms and methods were no
longer sufficient for the growing, expanding life of this "springtime
of the nations"; these springtimes of the nations recur at intervals,
and a great deal of rubbish has to be cleared away to make room for
new life. Adam Smith's work was largely negative. One biographer
of him, Mr. R. B. Haldane, speaks of him as "one of the greatest
vanquishers of error on record. " He regarded himself as the advo-
cate of a system of natural liberty: "nature" and "liberty" are two
perpetually recurring words; they must be associated, to understand.
the economic philosophy of the Wealth of Nations. ' One of the
assumptions underlying this book is that of a beneficent order of
nature lying back of all human institutions. The cry of the age was
"back to nature. " Rousseau gave loud utterance to this watchword,
and it was echoed and re-echoed by the writers and thinkers of
the eighteenth century, both great and small. Nature, it was held,
XXIII-846
## p. 13522 (#336) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13522
has done all things well; everything proceeding from the hands of
nature is good: what is evil in the world is man's artificial product;
before man interfered with nature there was the "golden age," and
to this "golden age" we must somehow get back. We must break
away from human contrivances, and seek for the order prescribed
by nature. Consequently we have perpetually recurring demand for
natural rights, natural liberty, natural law.
Nature has implanted in man self-interest, and the operation of
self-interest in the individual man is socially beneficent. Nature has
so ordered things that each man in seeking his own welfare will
best promote the welfare of his fellows. We must simply leave
nature alone, and give fair play to natural forces to bring about the
largest production of wealth. The causes of the wealth of nations
must be sought in the manifold actions of self-interest of individu-
als. The Wealth of Nations,' then, is a protest against restraints
and restrictions; it is directed against what was held to be the over-
government, but what subsequent history has shown to be rather
the unwise and unjust government, of that period. Careful exam-
ination of modern nations, especially as revealed in their financial
expenditures, shows that as modern nations have progressed, the act-
ivities of government have undergone immense expansion, but have
changed their direction and have altered their methods; their spirit
and purpose are different.
The abuses against which Adam Smith chiefly protested were
restrictions upon the freedom of trade, and the exclusive privileges
of ancient guilds and corporations, and laws directed against labor.
He was in principle a free-trader. His anti-monopoly views, however,
are equally pronounced.
It is important to notice one thing in connection with Adam
Smith's protest against labor laws; and that is, that he had in mind
laws aimed to control labor in the interest of the employer, and not
laws like our modern labor laws, the purpose of which is to protect
and advance the interests of labor. He said, indeed, in one place,
that if any labor law should chance to be in the interest of labor, it
was sure to be a just law. This ought not to be forgotten in com-
paring his spirit with that of modern writers who protest against
labor legislation. He was warmly humanitarian, and his ruling pas-
sion was to benefit mankind. On his death-bed he expressed regret
that he had been able to do so little.
Adam Smith was far from being a mere doctrinaire. He had the
practical disposition of the Scotchman, and was a close observer of
life. Common-sense, then, was one of his chief characteristics; and
he never hesitated to make exceptions to general principles when this
was required by concrete conditions. Free trade, for example, was
## p. 13523 (#337) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13523
a good thing; but he at once recognized that changes in tariff poli-
cies must be made with due regard to existing interests which had
grown up under a different policy. Private action in the sphere of
education was in accord with his philosophy; yet he could say that
under certain circumstances it might be wise for the government to
foster education, especially in a country with democratic institutions.
Even in so brief a sketch as this, a word must be said about
Adam Smith's position with respect to labor. He opens the 'Wealth
of Nations' with the statement that "The annual labor of every
nation is the fund which originally supplies it with all the necessa-
ries and conveniences of life which it annually consumes. " One school
of writers, the Mercantilists, had held that the main thing in the
advancement of the wealth of nations was foreign trade. A later
school, valued highly by Smith,- viz. , the Physiocrats,- had main-
tained that in the rent of land must be sought the causes of the
increase of wealth. It is doubtless as a protest against both these
schools that Adam Smith states that the original fund of wealth is
labor. He wants to make labor central and pivotal. Rodbertus, the
German socialist, has claimed that his socialism consists simply in an
elaboration of Adam Smith's doctrine of labor; but this is undoubt-
edly going too far.
All the economists before the time of Adam Smith must be re-
garded as his predecessors; all the economists who have lived since
Adam Smith have carried on his work: and his position in econom-
ics is therefore somewhat like that of Darwin in natural science. There
are many schools among modern economists, but their work all stands
in some relation to that large work of this "old master. "
The centenary of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations' was cele-
brated in 1876; and it was at that time stated that no other work
had enjoyed the honor of a centennial commemoration. Statesmen in
all nations have been influenced by it. Buckle, with his customary
exaggeration, makes this statement: "Well may it be said of Adam
Smith, and that too without fear of contradiction, that this solitary
Scotchman has, by the publication of one single work, contributed
more to the happiness of man than has been effected by the united
abilities of all the statesmen and legislators of whom history has pre-
sented an authentic account. " Even the more careful Bagehot used
these words: "The life of nearly every one in England - perhaps of
every one-is different and better in consequence of it. No other
form of political philosophy has ever had one thousandth part of the
influence on us. "
Richard
даву
## p. 13524 (#338) ##########################################
13524
ADAM SMITH
THE PRUDENT MAN
From the Theory of Moral Sentiments›
THE
HE prudent man always studies seriously and earnestly to
understand whatever he professes to understand, and not
merely to persuade other people that he understands it;
and though his talents may not always be very brilliant, they are
always perfectly genuine. He neither endeavors to impose upon
you by the cunning devices of an artful impostor, nor by the
arrogant airs of an assuming pedant, nor by the confident asser-
tions of a superficial and impudent pretender: he is not osten-
tatious even of the abilities which he really possesses. His
conversation is simple and modest; and he is averse to all the
quackish arts by which other people so frequently thrust them-
selves into public notice and reputation. For reputation in his
profession he is naturally disposed to rely a good deal upon the
solidity of his knowledge and abilities: and he does not always
think of cultivating the favor of those little clubs and cabals,
who, in the superior arts and sciences, so often erect themselves
into the supreme judges of merit; and who make it their busi-
ness to celebrate the talents and virtues of one another, and to
decry whatever can come into competition with them. If he ever
connects himself with any society of this kind, it is merely in
self-defense; not with a view to impose upon the public, but to
hinder the public from being imposed upon, to his disadvantage,
by the clamors, the whispers, or the intrigues, either of that par-
ticular society or of some other of the same kind.
The prudent man is always sincere; and feels horror at the
very thought of exposing himself to the disgrace which attends
upon the detection of falsehood. But though always sincere, he
is not always frank and open; and though he never tells anything
but the truth, he does not always think himself bound, when not
properly called upon, to tell the whole truth. As he is cautious
in his actions, so he is reserved in his speech; and never rashly
or unnecessarily obtrudes his opinion concerning either things or
persons.
The prudent man, though not always distinguished by the
most exquisite sensibility, is always very capable of friendship.
But his friendship is not that ardent and passionate but too often
transitory affection, which appears so delicious to the generosity
of youth and inexperience. It is a sedate but steady and faith-
ful attachment to a few well-tried and well-chosen companions;
## p. 13525 (#339) ##########################################
ADAM SMITH
13525
in the choice of whom he is guided not by the giddy admiration
of shining accomplishments, but by the sober esteem of modesty,
discretion, and good conduct. But though capable of friendship,
he is not always much disposed to general sociality. He rarely
frequents, and more rarely figures in, those convivial societies.
which are distinguished for the jollity and gayety of their con-
versation. Their way of life might too often interfere with the
regularity of his temperance, might interrupt the steadiness of
his industry, or break in upon the strictness of his frugality.
But though his conversation may not always be very sprightly
or diverting, it is always perfectly inoffensive. He hates the
thought of being guilty of any petulance or rudeness; he never
assumes impertinently over anybody, and upon all common occas-
ions is willing to place himself rather below than above his
equals. Both in his conduct and conversation he is an exact
observer of decency; and respects, with an almost religious scru-
pulosity, all the established decorums and ceremonials of society.
And in this respect he sets a much better example than has fre-
quently been done by men of much more splendid talents and
virtues, who in all ages-from that of Socrates and Aristip-
pus down to that of Dr. Swift and Voltaire, and from that of
Philip and Alexander the Great down to that of the great Czar
Peter of Moscovy-have too often distinguished themselves by
the most improper and even insolent contempt of all the ordi-
nary decorums of life and conversation, and who have thereby
set the most pernicious example to those who wish to resemble
them, and who too often content themselves with imitating their
follies without even attempting to attain their perfections.
In the steadiness of his industry and frugality, in his steadily
sacrificing the ease and enjoyment of the present moment for the
probable expectation of the still greater ease and enjoyment of a
more distant but more lasting period of time, the prudent man
is always both supported and rewarded by the entire approbation
of the impartial spectator, and of the representative of the
impartial spectator,- the man within the breast. The impartial
spectator does not feel himself worn out by the present labor
of those whose conduct he surveys; nor does he feel himself
solicited by the importunate calls of their present appetites. To
him their present, and what is likely to be their future, situation
are very nearly the same; he sees them nearly at the same dis-
tance, and is affected by them very nearly in the same manner:
he knows, however, that to the persons principally concerned.
## p. 13526 (#340) ##########################################
13526
ADAM SMITH
.
they are very far from being the same, and that they naturally
affect them in a very different manner. He cannot therefore
but approve, and even applaud, that proper exertion of self-
command which enables them to act as if their present and their
future situation affected them nearly in the same manner in
which they affect him.
The man who lives within his income is naturally contented
with his situation, which by continual though small accumulations
is growing better and better every day. He is enabled gradually
to relax, both in the rigor of his parsimony and in the sever-
ity of his application; and he feels with double satisfaction this
gradual increase of ease and enjoyment, from having felt before
the hardship which attended the want of them. He has no
anxiety to change so comfortable a situation; and does not go
in quest of new enterprises and adventures, which might endan-
ger, but could not well increase, the secure tranquillity which he
actually enjoys. If he enters into any new projects or enter-
prises, they are likely to be well concerted and well prepared.
He can never be hurried or driven into them by any necessity,
but has always time and leisure to deliberate soberly and coolly
concerning what are likely to be their consequences.
The prudent man is not willing to subject himself to any
responsibility which his duty does not impose upon him. He is
not a bustler in business where he has no concern; is not a
meddler in other people's affairs; is not a professed counselor
or adviser, who obtrudes his advice where nobody is asking it;
he confines himself, as much as his duty will permit, to his own
affairs, and has no taste for that foolish importance which many
people wish to derive from appearing to have some influence in
the management of those of other people; he is averse to enter
into any party disputes, hates faction, and is not always very
forward to listen to the voice even of noble and great ambition.
