The newspaper then, in language that is now classical, “goes for” Mr. Blank.  It says:  “Mr. Blank resorts to the common device of the rogue —­the affidavit.  If he had been conscious of rectitude, would he not have relied upon his simple denial?”

Now, if an extreme case like this could occur, it would be bad enough.  But, in our free society, the remedy would be at hand.  The constituents of Mr. Blank would elect him in triumph.  The newspaper would lose public confidence and support and learn to use its position more justly.  What I mean to indicate by such an extreme instance as this is, that in our very license of individual freedom there is finally a correcting power.

We might pursue this general subject of progress by a comparison of the society of this country now with that of fifty years ago.  I have no doubt that in every essential this is better than that, in manners, in morality, in charity and toleration, in education and religion.  I know the standard of morality is higher.  I know the churches are purer.  Not fifty years ago, in a New England town, a distinguished doctor of divinity, the pastor of a leading church, was part owner in a distillery.  He was a great light in his denomination, but he was an extravagant liver, and, being unable to pay his debts, he was arrested and put into jail, with the liberty of the “limits.”  In order not to interrupt his ministerial work, the jail limits were made to include his house and his church, so that he could still go in and out before his people.  I do not think that could occur anywhere in the United States today.

I will close these fragmentary suggestions by saying that I, for one, should like to see this country a century from now.  Those who live then will doubtless say of this period that it was crude, and rather disorderly, and fermenting with a great many new projects; but I have great faith that they will also say that the present extending notion, that the best government is for the people, by the people, was in the line of sound progress.  I should expect to find faith in humanity greater and not less than it is now, and I should not expect to find that Mr. Froude’s mournful expectation had been realized, and that the belief in a life beyond the grave had been withdrawn.

ENGLAND

By Charles Dudley Warner

England has played a part in modern history altogether out of proportion to its size.  The whole of Great Britain, including Ireland, has only eleven thousand more square miles than Italy; and England and Wales alone are not half so large as Italy.  England alone is about the size of North Carolina.  It is, as Franklin, in 1763, wrote to Mary Stevenson in London, “that petty island which, compared to America, is but a stepping-stone in a brook, scarce enough of it above water to keep one’s shoes dry.”