Sunday-Law Morality and Diplomacy
By Editor
The principle that immoral practises are to be deemed immoral just because they are committed on Sunday, has been carried to an unusual extent in Terre Haute, Ind. It is said that the president of the board of public safety and the superintendent of police recently made an inspection of the "red-light district," and were satisfied with the conditions, excepting that they thought there ought to be a better observance of Sunday. Therefore orders have been issued that keepers of houses of ill-repute in the levee district must not burn lights Sunday nights, and must keep their curtains down. This is a very pertinent illustration of Sunday-law morality. The logic of Sunday-law righteousness is that anything may be tolerated if only it be not done on Sunday. "Diplomacy," as international scheming is popularly called, has been illustrated again. Russia had been enforcing a high tariff upon certain classes of American goods, in retaliation for certain American tariffs on Russian goods. But that government has called off the tariff of retaliation. This is given out with considerable pomp as a tribute to the United States for the work of President Roosevelt in bringing about peace. But back of this display of gratitude is the fact that the policy was an injury to Russian trade—merchants, mechanics, and farmers were bitterly complaining about it. However, the United States Government will be "diplomatic" enough to accept the concession on its face, and overlook the real cause. It would not do to allow the Russians to outdo us in the international game of gentlemanly deception. "Tainted" Universities will soon be the danger of this country, if they be not indeed at present, judging from the manner in which the money of trust magnates is sought, and the disposition of educational institutions to honor the men who encourage the great combines. The Chicago Review says: President Thwing of Western Reserve University, who has returned from a visit with Andrew Carnegie at the latter's castle in Scotland, announces that Mr. Carnegie has given $25,000 toward the establishment of a fund of $100,000 for the endowment of a chair of political economy at Western Reserve University, to bear the name of the late United States Senator M. A. Hanna. The education of the coming men of influence under the patronage and inspiration of the capital classes, is not likely to produce statesmen and financiers and professional men whose sympathies will be antagonistic to the great monetary schemes of the country. Soon the great school with a purpose to better the prospects of the plebeian population will be a rarity, and be at a disadvantage. A Monument to Satan.—The man who erected a monument to Satan in Detroit did not need to do it or to defend it after he had done it; he is himself a better monument. The good people of Detroit will make more Satan-worshipers by trying to tear it down than to let it stand. It will thereby preach its builder's folly. At any rate, before they destroy the poor insensate pile, let them purify their city from many of the evil things in it that are vicious and illegal. They will never by force convert the poor insane man who erects the evidence of his monstrous fealty; he is at least honest. There are many monuments to Satan all over this land which are professedly otherwise. Really, reader, what would you name the thousands of body-wrecking, mind-wrecking, soul-wrecking saloons? A civilization that is not coupled with a due regard for the rights of our fellow-men, for the property rights of individuals or the people at large, is a questionable accomplishment. That class of people who pose as relic hunters—a class comprising many people of so-called higher culture—come in for no little share of censure in this respect. The Sacramento Union draws this comparison: "It is reported that the trees planted in New York by Li Hung Chang [the late noted Chinese statesman] have been almost carried away piecemeal by relic hunters. On the other hand, the trees planted by General Grant in Tokyo are surrounded by a railing, and guarded by soldiers. It is not a pleasant comparison, nor does it reflect favorably upon the civilized liberty of which we talk so much." A lesson in medical science—perhaps we might call it hygienic common sense—has been given to the world by Japan. Before the late war in the Orient the universal military theory was that four men would die of disease to every one killed by the enemy. The San Francisco Examiner sums it up in this brief paragraph: The Japanese fought one of the greatest wars of modern times, with larger armies than we employed against the South, amid extremes of climate, and they did it without letting a single epidemic get headway among their massed half million soldiers. They kept the disease statistics almost to the point they are in peace times, and instead of losing four men in five of the total of mortality by sickness, they lost only one in six.