The way of peace

Preface

If the reader of these pages shall contend that we may not mi^ up the tenses, present, past and future, as has been deliberately done, we shall admit that he is undoubtedly correct from the standpoint of Lindley Murray, and by our candor shall hope to disarm the criticism.

But the offence of violating* a rule of grammar is so trifling when contrasted with the great good which it is ardently desired shall follow, that we have concluded to disregard the law lai(f down by the straight and orthodox grammarian, and appeal tO' that higher law which recognizes good intentions.

Desperate diseases demand decisive remedies. Lancet and scalpel must be applied to save the patient’s life. The condition* is so exceedingly critical that a cure can, will, must be found.

People generally will not endure a homily. They will admit: imagination, because it has the negative virtue of not being dogmatic. It is legitimate to draw from imagination, because it has no rules except that it is under bonds to conduct its flights in a good cause. Its aim must be in the interests of humanity; its purpose, to elevate. Otherwise all desirable readers will spurn it.

So when the wise ones charge that this and that are not real,, we blandly and with all the innocence of childhood admit the impeachment, and place the task of separating the real from the unreal on the intelligent and indulgent reader.

Will it be allowable to compare the political situation to a patient who is being treated for an unnatural growth which a benevolent surgeon proposes to remove? Against the former’s fears, which are needless, because fancied only, the latter feels^ reasonably confident that he can guarantee a cure so complete that the patient will be better, stronger, than ever. The operation^ however, is vitally essential. Will the surgeon be able to convince the other and obtain his consent?

Pride is now the strong man that has possession, that rules the world. But there is a force infinitely stronger than pride. Pride repels; it bids to hate and kill. Love attracts; it says love and live. Love will conquer. Love must reign. Then there will be Peace.

P. S. — The foregoing, with the manuscript of this work, was in the hands of a publisher for approval in January, 1905, when the terrible tragedy occurred in St. Petersburg — the wholesale massacre of unarmed men, women and children, peaceably assembled in the public streets.

The savage and barbaric cruelty, for which there was no possible excuse, that took away from all good men any remaining sympathy for the Russian dynasty, and the despicable cowardice of the higher powers, made the applicability and the plot of this book impracticable, rendering its withdrawal from general circulation, through a publisher, necessary.

This permits the author in an overflow of candor to take his friends into his confidence and to admit that, while written with the purest of intentions, a tinge of commercialism had crept into his expectations.

By being relieved of this he feels that he can now ofifer to his friends the lines that follow, which have been slightly altered from the original, with a regret for what might be, but with the hope that in some small measure the effort may aid the cause of universal peace.

The Author.

Dongan Hills,

Borough of Richmond,

New York,

Contents

Chapter. Page.

I The Professor and Marina 7

II Marina and Augusta 16

CHAPTER I What plummet line may sound the ether sea

Describe the bounds of furthest distant star,

Or measure with its lines the universe.

So varied, vast, so high, so deep, so wide?

But greater than the universe is Love,

Whose power, with golden chains, encircles all.

ten o'clock on the evening of the 22d day of February,

1955, by the new style of reckoning, cosily seated in the conservatory of the Imperial Palace in St. Petersburg, were two people who had contrived to steal away from the gay and happy company that thronged the salon on the upper floor. The warm air, saturated with sufficient moisture to relieve it from being oppressive, gave a fresh vitality to the new comers, who were rather jaded by the close, dry atmosphere of the apartment they had just left.

The flowers so fresh, so odorous, were like the first breaths of a warm, sunny day in June, as if they, too enjoyed the happiness, and were doing their best to make every one glad that came in their presence, as they looked up to you in their very sweetness and loveliness. You were so touched, so moved by the gracious sight, such a supreme delight to the eye in their glowing colors, so rapturous to the smell, you felt as if you could kiss each blossom one by one.

Without, a snow-storm was raging in the fierce intensity that was so often witnessed in the northern capital. The west wind that swept the clouds of snow through the almost deserted streets and down and across the bends of the Neva, had spent itself in its very fury, and in the momentary lull the blasts from the east had gathered up their legions and drove them back, flying, swirling in the air. Then to add to the struggle between the forces, the sturdy giant from the north swooped down, and in his mad delight caught up the flying flakes and flung them against the eaves, or hurled them high above the gilded cupola of St. Isaacs, and slapped them in the faces of the few pedestrians who were still out, stinging them by their sharpness, so that no matter in whatever direction they were bending their belated steps, there was no escape from the blinding storm.

Admiralty Square, on which the palace was facing, was the scene of high revels of the elements, as the changing winds alternately took possession, battling to outdo each other in their wild rage and strength, now sweeping bare places on the icy ground, now piling the driven snow in high embankments, and threatening to break through the double windows by which the houses were guarded. At length an armistice was proclaimed, and silence, peaceful as the zephyr, raised her arms in benediction and reigned supreme; for the still falling snow fell so gently as not to disturb the quiet and repose, and finally ceased. When, from behind the concealing clouds the moon burst out, now nearly at its full, each feathered gem lay motionless amidst the vast profusion and reflected the light with all the brilliance of the diamond.

Let us once more return from the keen, icy atmosphere to the cosy, genial glow in the conservatory, where the mobile face of the Professor seemed to be catching some of the infection from without. From the smiles of summer, the storms of indignation, the floods of grief were by turns sweeping across his countenance. He was an interesting, a very interesting personage; brilliant, with fine and lofty ideals. He had studied history till his heart ached. His sympathies compelled him to endeavor to find some remedy for the intolerable evils he saw around him, some recompense for the suflfering inflicted on undeserving and unnumbered victims. Their wrongs had burned into his soul, until he felt the sting, the lash, the torture, swelling the tide of his indignation against the tyrants, and sent the hot blood surging through his veins.

Marina had warmed toward him, not so much for his handsome, expressive face, his magnetism, his striking presence, as for what she saw in him that was intensely and naturally congenial to her own disposition.

It was mainly on the latter grounds, though profoundly impressed with the former, that she found herself admitting she was sincerely, deeply, ardently in love with him. She honored him for his self-sacrifice ; she was all aglow, wrapped up with his ideals.

Marina was one of the salt of the earth. Her impulses, carefully and conscientiously trained, led her in the direction of goodness as surely as the needle turns to the magnetic pole. To say she was beautiful would be to underrate the transcendent beauty that shone from her countenance, that shines from all true women possessed with lofty ideals. For some women can be dazzlingly beautiful while still dominated by selfishness. Marina's was a higher style of beauty, because it was associated with a loveliness of character and disposition. She was one whom to have seen was an education and a blessing, whom to have heard was an inspiration, whom to have known was a lifting up into a higher life.

A pessimist magnifying a grievance — how wearisomely trying some pessimists with their pet grievances are — always dwelling on the imperfections of some of the race, can never have a true conception of exalted worth. Preferring to grovel among the unsavory elements^ he sees goodness with jaundiced eyes. He is satisfied when he can fall back on some despondent, melancholy writer who, in view of the depravity that he sees, despairs of his brethren, and lacks the faith that sees the ultimate triumph of the good.

In his fear — why cannot he throw away his insensate fear? — he imagines he sees a crime in properly appreciating goodness, and talks as if by exalting the creature we are encouraging pride. He does not realize that as long as we adhere to the truth we cannot too highly exalt the stars of humanity. The higher we appreciate goodness, wherever we see it, the more exalted conception we may have of man's Creator, who endowed him.

Marina, of course, was an optimist through and through. Every drop of blood that pulsated through her veins carried with it the joy of hope, glad hope, that never falters, never despairs; hope that through defeat witnesses a victory, that above the storm of strife sees the haven of peace.

Marina was filled, imbued, permeated with hope.

Being made beautiful by the possession of inward graces she did not need artificial adornings to appear attractive. Still no one is willing to be different from others in a gathering, unless lO in the assertion of some vitally important principle. This will afford the reason for her appearing in diamonds on this occasion, and why a necklace composed of these brilliants interspersed with rubies encircled her neck, and others of less significance clung around her wrists. Her gown was of rich texture girdled by a wide white ribbon around her waist, and above it floated a drapery of chiffon, light and airy as a dream.

Notwithstanding this display there was a conflict going on in the mind of the Professor, whether to admire, or not to admire. The red rose that glistened from her hair was to him more beautiful than either necklace or bracelets. In company he was eager that she should be admired. If it was sincerely her choice to be thus arrayed, he was too gallant to hint the slightest opposition. Otherwise, he was so wrapped up in the graces of her person, the loveliness of her disposition, the beauty of her character, that the array of gems only tended to eclipse the charms beneath.

In height five feet five inches, her features would be classed after the Greek ideal of beauty. Her forehead was broad, with a cluster of light brown hair curving above it; the eyebrows straight, the eyes that flashed beneath them, gray. Her cheeks were rounded, revealing the light tints of the rose; the lips slightly full ; the mouth, enclosing a double array of living pearls, was expressive of refinement. Her head was perfectly poised on a neck that indicated grace and strength. Her general bearing gave the idea of an undoubted individuality, not so much assertive as pleasing and attractive.

Such and much more, an evident and impressive sincerity and truthfulness, a strong love of the romantic that distinguishes more or less every daughter of Eve, represented the one whom the Professor rejoiced to honor, to admire, to love.

And here it might be explained that through her influence and the peculiar intimacy that existed between herself and the Tsarina, the Professor had been invited to the palace, where we may expect to see him in the later developments.

‘T am,” he said, ‘‘the happiest man in all the world, and at the same time the most miserable. I am the happiest, because I am blest with your sympathy, your devotion, your love ; because your heart is kindred with my own. To hold your hands in mine, to experience their magnetism quiver through my whole being, to

II have your warm breath float around me as incense, to feel your arms drawn around me close, close to my heart, is like walking through the bowers and breathing the air of paradise.

“But, dearest, I have no right to this perfect bliss when my compatriots, my brothers and sisters, are cruelly deprived of their liberty, suffering tortures inflicted on them at the will of a despot, remorseless, fiendish and unpitying. How dare I satisfy my being with this balm, this dear delight, when others, who are as good or better than I, are, without a warning, thrust into a pestilential dungeon away from the sunlight that streams around the prison, and would gladly rush in and fill it with its enlivening presence? What right have I to smile, to have one moment of happiness, when I cannot help witnessing the woes, the griefs, the agonies of others for whom my sympathies stream out ceaselessly.

“I would not mar your happiness, dearest, by allowing you to see me sad and mournful, and I could look on you only through my tears, when my heart's desire would be to do everything to make you happy.

“Dearest, my heart's beloved, it cannot be. I cannot be a traitor to my brothers and sisters in suffering. Because I have to cast away your love, because I must go out into the world and try to forget you, because I am trying to do the impossible, I am the most miserable of men. And yet I must be true to myself. I would rather forfeit your esteem, I would rather deprive myself of your love, the dearest, the sweetest thing in all the world, than that I should prove false to humanity, to the larger brotherhood and sisterhood, to whom I owe my allegiance."

“Still, my heart's own," Marina interposed, “if we cannot prevent the evils which we know to exist, if we are set powerless against an immovable rock, if we find ourselves in a condition for which we are not responsible, why should we deprive ourselves of the natural consolation that love inspires? When our mourning does not help another's grief, when under the circumstances it can be only sentimental, and when our dear, suffering ones would not wish us to be in misery because they are in trouble, why should we sacrifice love, a principle that is stronger than sympathy? For suffering is local, while love is universal."

“But, dearest, it is the hopelessness of our cause that makes me so utterly wretched. If I could see any hope, one ray of relief.

my course would be different. I cannot be happy while others have their bodies tortured, their souls racked with despair, and yet longing for a rightful liberty, of which they have been wickedly deprived.

“The cause is too sacred, the issues are too vital, for me to attempt to ignore them. I must go away, must plan, must work, I must do something to help to stay, to diminish the evils of the world. I must leave you even if it wrenches my heart, and leaves it mangled, torn, rent with the violence of its emotions, and nothing remains except my unconquerable will.’’

“Dearest,” Marina interposed, “I could not bear to have you leave me unless you promise to return. In that promise I will live. It will be my song of rejoicing every morning, my inspiration every day, my consolation every night. Wherever you go, my heart will go with you, longing for your ideals to become blessed realities. I shall hope and pray for you always.”

For Marina had not lost Hope. That darling angel would not leave her, but vs^ould remain constant, tender, devoted. She would wipe away her tears, would assuage her grief, comfort and console her. She would bring her legions of angels to sustain, to bear her up, up above the deep waters that were surging about her soul— Hope that would finally bring her and her loved ones into the haven of peace and happiness and joy. Hope is the offspring of Love, Love that moves the world. Love on which the universe is built.

“Out of the gloom,” Marina continued, “out of the darkness, Light, the messenger of Love, will come. Tyranny, that triumphs in dark places, must relent. Remorse must come to the destroyers of liberty. Mercy must assert her sway. Freedom must be a reality. Truth will, it shall prevail.

“The prison doors shall be flung wide open; dear ones be restored to their wives, their husbands, their lovers’ arms, out into the warm air, out into the sunlight. Even if deliverance is delayed, it may come sooner than we expect, when Russia, redeemed from the infamy into which she has sunk, and emerging from her medieval ways, will move with the rest of the world in a natural and inspiring progress, and take her rightful place among the nations.”

Marina’s relations to the Tsarina were peculiar; she had been the playmate of Augusta, whom Michael had asked to assume with him the cares and responsibilities of government.

Every court in Europe had heard the story of the infatuation of Michael, while heir to the throne, with the maiden who looked forward to wearing with him the imperial honors; and all wondered what influences she would bring to bear upon his disposition and character, whether they would be good, helpful and progressive, or side with the reactionaries who were endeavoring to keep him in Cimmerian darkness.

Marina and Augusta were more than playmates, they were inseparable friends. Marina had given her girl lover the pet name of “dearest.’' They had vowed eternal friendship, a relation that nothing should disturb, no change in position should affect. They were to be true through evil report and good report. They had pledged their faith, their promises, their honor to maintain their agreement with each other. They had sealed their trust with many warm and tender kisses.

How sweet these girl friendships are ! How cruelly they often come to an end by time and distance, by forming new relations, when the old, like dissolving views, fade away, leaving only a memory, so comforting, so helpful — memories that live while life shall last.

But the question now, possibly one of world importance, is. Will Marina’s and Augusta’s dreams prove real, or will they be as fairy tales, as a pretty romance? Will they develop into the confidence and the certainty that a reader feels that the hero and the heroine of the novel he or she is reading must come together, and be happy ever after?

Does it not so often happen that on a great wave of prosperity which lands one of the signatories to the agreement into a high station, the other is left in the waters of oblivion ; or when pride, a hateful, wicked pride, steps in and cruelly severs the bond of friendship? But in this instance what reasonable hope could remain with Marina that the one who was her dearest friend would, when elevated into the highest pinnacle of rank, be true to her promises, to the vows that she had solemnly made? It must be remembered that Marina had an intellectual and magnetic grasp in which she seemed to hold her friends, while Augusta’s deep sense of a true constancy kept ardently alive the former friendship.

Filled with hope and faith, Marina did not doubt her friend would remain true ; and that she did remain faithful is a matter of congratulation, for in this interesting friendship centers the peaceful revolution which within one short year shall transform Russia ; it may be, transform the nations.

The Professor had been in a sympathetic reverie ; he had been taking on his shoulders, and bearing on his heart, the troubles, the trials, the heartaches of his beloved fellows. He was dying daily a thousand deaths.

From this stupor of grief, his companion awoke him. ''Darling heart,” she said ; "out of the darkness a light is streaming ; it is the dawn of a new morning, a holy day, the reign of truth and righteousness, of a glorious freedom.

"I can see by faith the glad angel heralds of the coming glory, and their song is the same old, old, story, sung over nineteen hundred years ago, of peace on earth, of good-will, of love and joy.

"It is coming here right in our midst, dear one. We shall see it to the rejoicing of all suffering hearts, and we shall be satisfied.

"Although the struggles of humanity against an organized despotism are seemingly hopeless, yet we may remember that out of the refiner’s fire comes forth the pure gold. Arising from the ground, watered by our tears, the flowers of hope may spring, and the roses may bloom and fill the air with incense. The very evils that torment us may be so turned as to produce good. Then our dreams shall become true, our ideals prove realities, our aspirations fulfilled.

"Consecration to a principle, a force that lifts ourselves upward, must bear fruit. You, my heart’s own, have consecrated your life to freedom. I have consecrated my life to love. If by laying down your life on the altar of liberty you could save humanity, you would not hesitate ; and on the altar of love, if my life could spare yours, gladly would I lay it down that you might live.

"But, dearest heart, we shall both live to see the work accomplished. We shall behold liberty enthroned. We shall see freedom established in this land of ours. I have a plan ; I have an intuition it will succeed. I shall see Augusta. Little by little I shall win her over, and through her move the Emperor. No denunciations will be used ; that would create an antagonism which might be followed by a breach of friendship. It will be necessary to move cautiously; every step must be carefully studied in advance; all the tact that I possess will be constantly required. I shall endeavor to perform my work like an artist, in order to secure for it the best effect, so that the Empress shall be favorably impressed.

‘'I shall make myself as personally agreeable as possible in matters of dress, in the style of doing up my hair, in the scents that I use, in an unostentatious deference to her wishes, in a solicitous attention to her comfort and her health.

''I will impress her with a thought of the power she holds in her own hands, of the opportunity she has to support the arms of the Emperor, of the influence that she can use in favor of liberty, of right, and truth and peace.

‘'Let us imagine the Empress is present here on this stage, going through a rehearsal, and you, dear, in the gallery, or ensconced behind some of the flowing draperies.’’

CHAPTER II A friend a treasure is

Above the price of sapphire gems or pearls,

Or rubies glowing, diamonds flashing light ;

Who knows me, with me feels, uplifts my soul;

One brave in storm, rejoiced when fair winds blow.

And ^neath all skies, all stress, is constant, true.

IGUSTA entered exclaiming: '‘Oh, this is such a relief to throw off for an hour the cares and trammels that state imposes on me! Let us be children once again, as, garlanded with flowers, we stood beneath the oak trees, or sat in cosy bowers weaving those darling fairy tales that had for their heroes and heroines kings and queens, and emperors and empresses. And now you shall be ‘Marina, dear,' and I shall be what you used to call me — don't you remember when I was ‘dearest'? — just as it was in those happy days.

“This parade of sovereignty, its pomp and ceremony, even a palace filled with priceless treasures, how gladly would I relinquish all after seeing, beneath the glitter, its hollow shams, its unrealities.

“The honors? What a poor compensation they offer for the liberty one has lost. Sometimes I think that our positions have been reversed, that the people are the masters, and we who have the titles are the slaves.

“Suppose I am at some function where my presence is indispensable, and I dare not refuse, and I am ‘Your Majestied' till it sounds so empty, and all the while I am tormented with an excruciating headache or an aching tooth, that is driving me to distraction, till I am ready to consign the well-meaning and wellwishing speaker to Moscow or Archangel.

“The honors and the titles, the emoluments and palaces, these we might manage to endure, were it not for the slavery of fear, that day and night never leaves us, robbing us of peace and happiness. We never for a moment feel a sense of restful security. The .cultivated, suave and polished gentleman with whom we are conversing may be an assassin in disguise, and inwardly planning deadly schemes against us. Even the servants that wait on the table, to whom we have been considerate and kind, may be in the employ of traitors, working, plotting in darkness against our lives.

‘‘We may be driven at a gallop through the streets that are lined with the imperial guards, or whisked in gaily upholstered cars along the railroad, protected from end to end by armed sentinels, never knowing when or where a mine may be sprung beneath the track, or when a bullet or a bomb may complete its deadly work.

“Every day I am trembling to have Michael leave my sight, not knowing whether I shall ever see his dear face again.

“He is so generous and lovable in his disposition, so thoughtful and considerate of my comfort and happiness, that it seems as If he lives for me and our children. No one, if they knew him personally, could wish him any injury. What priceless delight it would be if the peacefulness that pervades our home life could be a reality in that outer world in which we must go, where we are constantly reminded of danger and insecurity.

“In such intervals of peace that our friends, the enemy, allow us to have, I am trying to place together such reasoning power as I have left, to think, to contrive how we can avoid the dangers to which we are now perpetually subjected, and solve the problem of being powerful and yet free.

“Must we be compelled to take the bitter with the sweet? Why cannot we reign by deputy, or retire to a summer palace, away from pomp and parade, in some quiet nook in the south, perhaps among the hills of the Chersonese, overlooking the Black Sea ?

“And yet he cannot, dare not resign. That would be a sign of weakness. Believing firmly in the divine right of kings he must reign. Day by day, he must take up his burden. There is no escape.’'

Augusta would not for anything allow the world to know her personal griefs and fears, but she could confide in her friend of former days. Her confession imposed a trust, which, by its i8

THE V/AY OF PEACE reflex action, brought a degree of peace to her troubled soul. Marina longed to comfort her. Now had come her opportunity.

'There is not,’’ she said, "a pain which you experience, a grief that you endure, that I do not feel and suffer with you. If I could discover somewhere a panacea for your troubles, I would gladly go to the ends of the earth to find it; and when I had found it, I would fly to you to lay it at your feet.

"Augusta, dear, may I be privileged in great sincerity to offer some modest suggestions out of the depth of my heart ?”

"Dear Marina, I wish you would talk to me just as openly, without the least restraint, the same as if we were back in the garden or the fields where we spent so many happy hours.”

"And you promise, however candid I must necessarily be, that you will not take the slightest offence ?”

"I promise you, dear, and you shall open your mind freely, and I know everything you tell me will be all in love.”

"Augusta, dear, the case is not hopeless. Where there is power there must be a way. Where there is a will it recognizes no obstacles. But even with these we must expect a complete failure without love that proves itself by works. You recognize in the Emperor a personal goodness that appeals to your heart. What this virtue means in a family can also be extended to such a grand development that it will take into its embrace the whole nation. In such a larger, deeper, national life Russia will take a new lease of vitality. In such an ideal condition, were injustice committed against one of the one hundred and fifty millions of this vast country, the feeling which claims for every one the inherent right to justice would be aroused, and demand a proper satisfaction for the one injured. Does one member suffer? The paternal sentiment would be excited, and could not help suffering with it.

"We cannot afford to be blind to the historical fact that our country is to-day suffering from the crimes of our ancestors, those in high places, who, through the centuries, governed for their own pleasure. Without a comprehension of the brotherhood of man, of that altruistic principle that worketh by love, they abused their power by cruel repression and remorseless tyranny. They sowed the seeds of that resentment from which we are reaping the evil to-day. Repression has utterly, miserably failed.