twentieth century, has risen full before all the churches.

In the earlier period of his too brief life Lord Falkland was one of Ben Jonson's friends, much sought after and admired in that company of poets and wits in the "Apollo," in London, who were known "as sealed after the tribe of Ben." In 1631 he retired to a country-seat in the village of Tew, not far from Oxford, where his house, with its large library, was the resort of a choice company of scholars and "men of the most eminent parts"-a "University bound in a less volume," as Clarendon describes it. There Falkland, forsaking poetry for divinity, was engaged in studies and discussions with his friends concerning the "what" and the "wherefore" of the problems of thought and life, being, we are told, of a very open and pleasant conversation. The times, however, were growing urgent, and the first alarms of the civil war called Lord Falkland away from "this happy and delightful conversation and restraint." In the Long Parliament he became the leader of the small party of conciliation. In political affairs a constitutionalist, supporting Hampden in resisting the shipmoney, yet raising his voice against vindictive haste in the impeachment of Strafford; in ecclesiastical matters agreeing with the Puritans in their demands for the reform of the church, yet refusing to follow the "Root and Branch" party in destroying the established order of the church; opposing what, from its severity, was called the "Thorough" policy of Archbishop Laud in dealing with dissenters, yet reluctant to consent to his impeachment; and when at last the stress of the times compelled him to make his choice, being neither a Roundhead nor a Cavalier, accepting high office, yet contradicting the king, says Clarendon, "with bluntness and sharp sentences," going to the war broken-hearted and with the word, “Peace, peace," upon his lips, yet riding forth with a cheerful countenance to meet death-Lord Falkland stands forth against the background of a tempestuous age as an example of large and hospitable open-mindedness, possessing in a rare degree that virtue of intellectual charity-the wisdom both pure and peaceable-which above all is needed in the religious statesmanship of the present, if

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the church of the future is to compose the unhappy divisions which are its heritage. from the past.

A pathetic interest invests the last scene of Lord Falkland's life. When his friends would have snatched him from the peril of the battle-field, he answered from the trenches "that his case was different from other men's; that he was so much taken notice of for an impatient love of peace that he should likewise make it appear that it was not out of fear of the utmost hazard of war." At the head of a regiment advancing between hedges lined by the enemy's musketeers, in his thirty-fourth year he fell mortally wounded by a musket-shot.

His

Alike in church and state the partizan who succeeds is the hero of the hour, the champion who wins the fight is crowned; but the peacemaker who fails may wait until history shall call him blessed. influence is not lost, though his reward lingers. Macaulay was too partizan in his history to appreciate so "severe a lover of justice and so precise a lover of truth" as Clarendon says Lord Falkland was; Carlyle dismisses him from the hall of his heroes with this single line of contempt, "Poor Lord Falkland in his clean shirt was killed here." But in 1878 a monument in his memory was erected on the spot where he fell, and Matthew Arnold restored him to his rightful place in history when he wrote, "He was the martyr of lucidity of mind and largeness of temper, in a strife of imperfect intelligences and tempers illiberal."

A few of Falkland's utterances are worth repeating, as they have some point and pertinency in relation to current religious questions. Thus, in his first speech on episcopacy in the Long Parliament, he said of the bishops, "Maister Speaker, a little search will serve to find them to have been the destruction of Unity under the pretense of Uniformity." That charge could not be answered when it was made in 1641; the only sufficient answer to it was made in 1908, when from the Jerusalem Chamber of Westminster the Anglican bishops, gathered in convention from all the world, sent forth this noble message to all other communions: "We must constantly desire not compromise, but comprehension, not uniformity, but unity." But what Lord Falkland so long ago saw

clearly ought to be, still waits in this twentieth century to be made accomplished fact. While the separated churches are now reconsidering their divisions, some other words of Falkland may be serviceable; as, for instance, this happy characterization of that type of churchmen "who seek to deduce themselves from Rome." We may also recall a simple but quite fundamental principle of good government if we repeat concerning politicians a remark which he made concerning certain ecclesiastics: "I doubt not the bishops may be good men; and give but good men good rules, and we shall have good government and good times."

Concerning the two opposing forms of church government, the episcopal and the presbyterial, he denied the claim of either to a divine right, while maintaining the established order on the ground of its antiquity and utility. "I neither consider them as necessary nor as unlawful, but as convenient and inconvenient." Again, he said, "Where it is not necessary to change, it is necessary not to change." So this reasonable visionary made a hopeless stand against conflicting extremes, which were hastening toward disruption, himself a prototype and herald of the church statesmanship the immediate practical task of which now is to gather together and to lead as one power the religious forces of the people.

Another attractive character in this group of men of religious reasonableness is to be known by a small book which a friend gathered up from his few extant writings, and published three years after his death under the title, "The Golden Remains of the Ever Memorable Mr. John Hales of Eton College." His life was uneventful save for the misfortune and loss which befell him in the revolutions of his times; but his quiet influence has entered into the purest and best religious thought of England. At one time Hales, like Falkland, was occasionally one of that company of wits in the "Apollo," among whom

Hales, set by himself, most gravely did smile,

To see them about nothing keep such a coil.

He had been a good listener, and a reporter in his letters, at the theological debate between the Calvinists and the Ar

minians in the Synod of Dort, where, as he wrote at one of the sessions, “I bade good night to John Calvin," although, as Principal Tullock observes, "he did not say good morning to Arminius." In his earlier life he wrote a short essay on "Schism and Schismatics," intended only for private circulation among his friends, which, however, attained much notoriety, and was called to the notice of Archbishop Laud, that "rigid surveyor," as Clarendon characterizes him, "of all things which bordered never so little upon schism." To his credit however it should be remembered that after a long interview with Hales in his garden, Laud let him go with some offer of preferment which Hales did not care to accept. This single-minded lover of truth was not so fortunate when the "Thorough" method of Laud was followed by the success of the "Root and Branch" work of the Puritan commonwealth; for the storm of the revolution which uprooted the church and swept over the universities broke up the circle of his friends, and left him dispossessed and in poverty, compelled to seek refuge in the cottage of an old servant, and to part with the library of choice books among which he had lived. It is indeed a pathetic picture, this man of "prodigious learning, excellent judgment, and unbounded charity," who in his better days had said of himself that he thought he "should never die a martyr," suffering in his old age the loss of all things, but still "gravely cheerful," as the solitary friend, who had found him in his last loneliness, has described him-the friend who buried him, as directed in his will, not in the church at Eton, to which as benefactor he might give nothing, but in the churchyard without, "in plain and simple manner, without any sermon or ringing of the bell, or calling the people together." But his thought lingers as the ringing of a sweet-toned bell, and his ideas prevail to call Christian people together.

The following sentences are taken from his "Golden Remains," and a few other writings of his which were subsequently found and printed. He saw, as few before him had seen, that differences of theological opinions are not religious, differences when he wrote: "It is not the variety of opinions, but our perverse wills, who think it meet that all should be conceited as

ourselves are, which hath so inconvenienced the church. Were we not so ready to anathematize each other, we might in heart be united, though in our tongues we were divided, and that with singular profit to both sides." It is the general recognition of this simple principle of theological charity that renders it possible now for the Episcopal Church in America to summon with ready responsiveness from all sides a world conference on questions of faith and order to consider existing differences as well as agreements as a first step toward unity. John Hales with the same just discernment placed the responsibility for schisms in many cases upon both parties to it, as he pithily said. of the first great schism-that between the Eastern and the Roman Church. "I cannot see but that all the world were schismatics," he said. If all the Christian world to-day, both Greek, Roman Catholic, and Protestant, should confess their common share in the moral iniquity, as well as the economic waste, of continued separation, the feast of reconciliation might not seem so far distant. While, on the one hand, Hales rejected any "superiority by title" of the bishops, he raised an interrogation-point against the continuance of denominational divisions when he defined schism as "an unnecessary separation of Christians from that part of the visible church of which they were once members." There is also still need, although a vanishing one, of recalling this bit of satire concerning heresy-hunting:

Heresy and schism are two theological scarecrows, which they who uphold a party in religion use to fight away such as, making inquiry into it, are ready to oppose it if it appear either erroneous or suspicious. For as Plutarch reports of a painter who, having unskilfully painted a cock, chased away all cocks and hens, so that the imperfection of his art might not appear by comparison with nature; so men willing for ends to admit of no fancy but their own, endeavor to hinder an inquiry into it by way of comparison of somewhat with it, peradventure truer, so that the deformity of their own might not appear.

Those prelates and teachers who fear to advise men "to search into the reasons and grounds of religion lest it might breed

disquiet" he did not hesitate to compare to the "Sybarites, who for their own ease banished the smiths because their trade was full of noise." Hales struck a clear note, unheeded amid the civil strife and religious discords of the time, which is now become the key-note to which our common Christianity responds, when he said, "To carry marks and devices may well become the world which is led by fancy and show; but the church is like Amphiarus, she hath no device, no word in her shield, mark and essence with her are all one, and she hath no other note than to be." Not our sectarian devices, not our denominational names, mark the essence of the church: "mark and essence with her are all one, and she hath no other note than to be."

From the rich anthology of these forgotten books of the past one other passage must suffice. In a sermon which Hales left on "Christ's Legacy of Peace to his Church" there is a prayer otherwise of rare liturgical feeling and beauty, in which occurs this quite unliturgical and quaint petition, an outburst of Hales's pent-up hatred of "the brawls which have grown from religion": "Look down, O Lord, upon thy church torn with discord. . . . Be with those we beseech Thee, to whom the prosecution of church controversies is committed, and like a good Lazarus drop one cooling drop into their tongues and pens, too much exasperated against each other."

These apostles of reasonableness, of whom their world was not worthy, have not failed. Once understood only by the few, the multitude now would go forth to hear them. The warfare of other days for liberty is accomplished; the once irrepressible conflict between opposing doctrines has given place to an age of church reconstruction. The welcome word among all denominations is, "Let us have peace.' The higher life of the whole country demands a united Christianity. A whole church is needed to do the work of the church throughout the world. Modern civilization cannot be saved by a Christianity divided against itself. And the sign of this coming time-is it not already to be discerned in the notable call, sounded for all the Christian world to hear, by the last General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church of America?

simultaneous action, looking toward the same end, of the National Council of the Congregational Churches, and in the readiness of other denominations to fall into line as this forward movement becomes organized and sweeps on? Its momentum no man can stop, and no sect can withstand. It means that something is being done to render the vision of church unity real. The work so auspiciously undertaken will require several years of preparation; it will involve a campaign of mutual educa

tion before it can be brought to successful issue. But it means that unity is henceforth to be made the business of the church. It is not longer to be tolerated that the several denominations shall remain side by side like so many disconnected and ineffectual cells; they are to be bound together as in a live battery; they are to gain dynamic unity, so that their full energy may be transmitted wherever moral and religious power and light are needed.

IT

TAKING AMBITION OUT OF
THE WORKING-MAN

T has been the crowning boast of the American system of government that whatever may be its defects, it offers, by its freedom of play, to the citizen of humblest means and station an opportunity to acquire any reward of honor or fortune to which his deserts, his labor, or his public services may entitle him. The history of our country is full of examples of those who have risen from the ranks to positions of legislative, executive, or financial eminence, and, with all our increase of wealth, it is still a point in favor of a man that he should have made his initial successes against the handicap of poverty or despite intellectual disadvantages. Twenty-five years ago there were no limits to the ambition of the working-man. Strangely enough, the limits which it is now sought to place to his ambition are made by some of those of his own class who profess to lead him to a better day.

However selfish, greedy, and oppressive individual employers may be, there is, in the main, in the United States nothing but good-will toward the laboring classes, and it is deeply to be regretted that some of their leaders have hastily put themselves into antagonism to one recent movement which not only promises to do much for the health and prosperity of the workingman,-by promoting his efficiency through

the scientific management of certain businesses, but also promises to do much to civilize certain employers of large numbers of men and women.

We have already set forth in THE CENTURY the achievement of Mr. Frank B. Gilbreth in economizing the motions. of bricklayers. This system, reducing these motions from eighteen to five or six, enables a first-class workman to lay 350 bricks an hour with less effort than he formerly expended in laying one third that number. The benefits of the system are shared by employer and employed, since it enables Mr. Gilbreth to pay, and his men to earn, $6.50 per day instead of the old rate of $4.50. Demonstrably productive though it was of economic gain and advantage to all the parties to the contract, Mr. Gilbreth's men refused to permit its introduction. They went on strike virtually against a raise of wages! The strike was ordered by the Glens Falls (New York) local union on the representations of some of the less efficient of Mr. Gilbreth's men who were unable to earn more than the minimum wage of fifty-five cents an hour, while the competent men earned seventy-five cents. They feared that the new system would lead to the dismissal of the men who could not do an average day's work.

This appears to be the view quite generally taken by organized labor. In the discussion of the scientific management of

industrial plants that followed a recent dinner of the Economic Club, a representative of the unions, Mr. James Duncan, Vice-President of the American Federation of Labor, declared that it meant simply "speeding up"; that the extra wage earned at first would be blood-money; that the system would turn normal laborers into specialists, condemned to monotonous tasks month after month, until they were driven to the verge of insanity. They would be worn out, health and strength would fail, discharge would follow, and new men would take their places. This view, as must appear from any intelligent study of the system itself, is wrong as to facts, and wholly erroneous in its assumption of the effect of scientific management on the workmen. The error is exposed, too, by the testimony of those by whom it has been applied. In saving motion, useless saves backaches, sore muscles, strain, fatigue, and exhaustion. Saving labor cannot exhaust the laborer any more than saving money can exhaust the purse. Glaring as is labor's error in respect to the facts, its blunder in theory is yet more deplorable. What it amounts to is that organized labor puts its veto on the general introduction of better methods of work, which, as Mr. Brandeis puts it, by "removing the obstacles which annoy and exhaust the workman" would result in larger production with less expenditure of labor and money. Here is a reform that, if its apostles may be believed, would save in the industries of this country hundreds of millions annually. Labor forbids its adoption. It means real economic gain. Labor decrees that economic waste shall continue. Why? Avowedly because of labor's fear that fewer men will be employed, or only the best, the most efficient men, the unskilful and the incompetent thereby being doomed to unemployment.

motion, - the system

In that way and for that reason, more than half a century ago, labor set its veto on the introduction of labor-saving machinery. In English factories hand operatives smashed the machines. In Ohio the men of the sickle and the grain-cradle destroyed the wheat-harvesting machine. All the work would be done by the machines, they said, and they would be left to starve. Was their prediction true? Have their fears been realized? On the

contrary, were not these destroyers of machines egregiously wrong?

What they failed to see and understand is precisely the truth to which labor is now blind in its opposition to motionsaving systems, namely, that increase in product means increase in demand for labor. Commodities produced cheaply through economies, through labor- and cost-saving processes, find a ready market, for they can be sold at prices within the consumer's reach. Agricultural machinery brought our prairies under cultivation, made us among all the nations first in exports of food-stuffs, and more than quintupled the number of men engaged in tilling the soil. Would labor have been the gainer if, under its ukase, we had stuck to the hand-loom and put a ban on spinningmachinery? In 1905 our textile industries employed 1,156,305 operatives and the wages paid amounted to $419,841,630.

There is another fundamental truth that labor altogether ignores. Merit, ability, and efficiency will not long continue to be unequally yoked with mediocrity and incompetence. The strike was caused by the men who could not "keep up" with Mr. Gilbreth's best bricklayers. Is it the policy of the unions to safeguard the interests of the men only who cannot "keep up"? (Is the pace of the marching column to be the pace of the slowest man in the ranks? This policy must eternally be at war with the inborn ambition of the better man, with his desire to rise in the world, to earn more money, to enjoy new comforts and higher conditions) It introduces an element of division in the unions themselves, a sundering force that tends inevitably to break the iron yoke of uniformity on the lower level. The capable, the industrious, and the thrifty will not forever submit to that self-denying ordinance. There will be two kinds of labor-unions. (The higher wage always in view of those who know that they can earn it will powerfully move them to break the thrall laid upon them by this short-sighted policy of organized labor.

In general, what the working-men most need at the present time is to bring forward as leaders their conservative, intelligent, law-abiding men-leaders who will set their faces against violence, men with apostolic devotion to their fellows, and with clearness of vision to see that their