Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  Let us suppose it has been determined to revise the tariff to a sufficient extent to admit of the surplus silver of the United States being disposed of in exchange for commodities. A commission will be at once appointed to enquire into the alterations of the tariff which are possible. Its duty will be to point out what articles, of a nature likely to find a sale, can be imported in the greatest quantities without prejudice to American manufacture. Doubtless this task will not be a very easy one, though if the whole commerce of the United States be compared with the value of the additional capital it is sought to invest, it will be seen that the extension is not so great as would at first be imagined. It is probably not so great as to involve the discontinuance of any branch of manufacture now successfully conducted. To enlarge the trade of such a country as ours by an amount which does not exceed, or even equal, the private fortunes of several of our richest men, is surely not an undertaking to dishearten financiers. And what is necessary does not mean more than this. And it must be remembered that this extension does not amount to a greater annual extension (after the first measures), than the annual surplus of the silver production. The number of millions, whatever it may really be, now lying idle, it has taken some years to accumulate, whereas if that money had been thrown into trade pari passu with its production, no such accumulation would have occurred. Nor if the obstacles to an extension of trade were sufficiently removed, could it occur again. The throwing, say, of 100 millions of dollars into the circulation of the world would not be felt much; perhaps it would not even raise prices generally all over the world; though the same increase made in the circulation of coin inside of the United States, if it were possible, would raise prices in the United States in a short time in exactly the ratio which 100 millions bears to the circulation of the whole country. Consequently, if we can throw 100 millions into the circulation of the world without raising prices much anywhere, we obtain the whole of the advantage arising from the possession of 100 millions more money than our neighbors, with the same purchasing power. The only problem is to apply this purchasing power to the acquisition of commodities which we want, but cannot at present produce in sufficient quantities or of sufficiently good quality to satisfy those of us who either are, or would like to be, consumers of them. The commission appointed ought to have no great difficulty in pointing out what those articles are; and as a full satisfaction of the desire for all foreign articles which now exists in the United States, would, without doubt, require a much larger investment of capital than the surplus silver production now places at our disposal, it would, from the nature of things, be easy to make use of just so much of our reserve power of extension as should produce a permanent equilibrium. An examination of the existing tariff would require more space and technical discussion than is warranted in a pamphlet of the present dimensions; it is sufficient to point out that the importation of such things as foreign wines, silks and cloths, not to mention works of art and taste, and books, is capable of very great extension; and that the lightening of the duties on such as these could not but act as a stimulus to American industry. For American manufacturers would not long be content to be outdone by any others.

  It seems to me that before leaving the subject it will not be out of place to examine briefly in what way a considerable modification of the, tariff may be expected to affect securities and the stock market. If a sum of money is thrown into trade and it is properly managed, it is clear that, supposing there are a million more dollars sent out of the country, there ought to be a million dollars worth more of commodities coming into the country, and as the capital already seeking investment in securities forms no part of the million dollars taken from the hoarded surplus, so the investment of such capital will not of itself be affected in any way whatsoever. And so in any case where the extension of trade does not go beyond what is actually lying idle as surplus. And a very ordinary amount of foresight will be sufficient to prevent this. If the measures are not well considered, so that by the injury done to the manufacturers of certain articles any considerable amount of capital is suddenly liberated by the closing of works, it may be foretold that the price of securities will rise to an inflated condition to be followed by a crisis. But such a circumstance, as it constitutes a known danger, can also be securely guarded against. If, on the other hand, by lightening the tariff too much, a great inducement is offered to engage in foreign trade, too much capital will go out of the country, and the price of securities will fall. This too sudden lightening of duties is even easier to avoid by due caution than it will be to guard against errors in the selection of commodities on which the duties shall be lightened, in which latter case a greater multiplicity of interests will be called into play. But neither of the two presents any very great difficulty, provided the commission is composed of disinterested men of sound judgment and a fair knowledge of the subject.

  That some time would be required in order to make the necessary inquiries and arrangements, and that a law affecting the tariff ought never to be introduced without giving considerable notice, are points which must be considered, but which cannot be raised in objection. It is much to be regretted that the Conference which has been sitting in Paris should not yet have been successful in bringing about an immediate adoption of the double standard by at least one of the other countries there represented. If even one country could be induced to join us, an immediate easing of the silver market would ensue, which, though of course only a temporary relief, as I have already pointed out, would give us time for the consideration and study of the permanent remedy.

  If, however, as first supposed, both mistakes are carefully avoided, the price of securities can only be affected indirectly by the improvement in trade, causing a more rapid increase of capital. Prices may, indeed, in such a case rise, but unless from independent circumstances, with which we have nothing to do, they will not become inflated and the improvement will be permanent.

  A word must be said about the so-called “ soft money n movement. I cannot see what difficulties this question presents which cannot be immediately explained. At all events, if the position of the soft money advocates is not clear we must allow at once that the valuable studies of American currency embodied in the books of Professors Francis A. Walker and William G. Sumner are utterly worthless, which the most hardened skeptic will hardly be prepared to state. Now it is an established law that a convertible paper currency is a direct gain to the issuers, and that as long as it remains strictly convertible it is not a loss to any one. The necessary condition attached to a convertible paper currency is that specie must be held in reserve to the extent of one-third of the whole paper circulation. By this means the paper will always circulate at par, and the whole amount of the precious metals thus freed from the duty of performing the part of money becomes available as a strict commodity, if so desired. Now the United States Government has unintentionally gravitated into this position. Its paper currency, being good for gold and circulating everywhere at par, is preferred on account of its convenience, which explains the constant demand for more of it. The reluctance on the part of the Government to accede to this demand is due to a just appreciation of the dangers threatening the country the moment the amount of paper in circulation becomes great enough to create a doubt in the public mind in regard to the immediate convertibility of the notes into gold. Need anything more be said? The limit to which paper may be issued is known, for it must be regulated so that the reserve fund of specie shall always be equal to one-third of the actual circulation. The question is answered.

  To sum up: The position of affairs shows a country possessed of more silver than will circulate. The redundance of silver, together with certain circumstances connected with the currencies of foreign countries, causes at the same time a continual and considerable fluctuation in its value.

  To secure greater stability in the value of silver, and to introduce measures for the permanent disposal of the surplus production of silver, are the necessary conditions for restoring the equilib
rium destroyed by instability of value and redundance of amount.

  The means for obtaining these conditions are the adoption of a double standard by as many countries as can be persuaded to do so, and a suitable revision of the tariff. The full accomplishment of both these conditions is necessary to the perfect restoration of equilibrium, but either measure separately will produce a partial restoration.

  If, on the one hand, the introduction of the double standard in foreign countries should prove a task too heavy for the strength of our political influence abroad; yet, on the other hand, the reformation of our tariff is an operation entirely in our power, and which should have been undertaken in any case, whether we had been driven to it by force of circumstances or not. We have been driven to it.

  The state of our tariff compared with the state of our productive power, or, to use the expression current in this country, of our potentiality, is an anachronism — a thing of the past. There were causes which were thought to justify its introduction, but they have disappeared, and it is high time that a beginning be made towards reforming the laws affecting our foreign commerce. We have advantages of position, of natural and developed resources, such as no other country in the history of the world has ever possessed before, or by the utmost stretch of what seems possible can ever possess again. We have also the advantage of all the accumulated experience and wisdom of mankind to guide us, merely requiring us to apply to each new position those laws which, resting on relentless logic and absolute truth, will neither suffer contradiction nor lead us into error. If, while wielding the gigantic powers of knowledge and wealth, we submit to having our actions influenced and our lives guided by petty considerations of personal vanity unworthy of the age we live in, our Nation will surely be one day called upon to render an account of her misdoings at the tribunal of mankind. And mankind will not be lenient.

  F. MARION CRAWFORD.

  NEWPORT, August 1st, 1881.

  The Novel: What It Is

  WHAT IS A NOVEL?

  MY answer can only be a statement of opinion, which I make with much deference to the prejudices of my brethren. Whether it will be of interest to general readers I do not know; but the question I propose is in itself more or less vital as regards novel-writing. No one will deny that truism. Before going to work it is important to know what one means to do. I pretend, however, to no special gift for solving problems in general or this one in particular. To give “the result of one’s experience,” as the common phrase puts it, is by no means so easy as it sounds. An intelligent man mostly knows what he means by his own words, but it does not follow that he can convey that meaning to others. Almost all discussion and much misunderstanding may fairly be said to be based upon the difference between the definitions of common terms as understood by the two parties. In the exact sciences there is no such thing as discussion; there is the theorem and its demonstration, there is the problem and its solution, from which solution and demonstration there is no appeal. That is because, in mathematics, every word is defined before it is used and is almost meaningless until it has been defined.

  It has been remarked by a very great authority concerning the affairs of men that “of making many books there is no end,” and to judge from appearances the statement is even more true to-day than when it was first made. Especially of making novels there is no end, in these times of latter-day literature. No doubt many wise and good persons and many excellent critics devoutly wish that there might be; but they are not at present strong enough to stand against us, the army of fiction-makers, because we are many, and most of us do not know how to do anything else, and have grown grey in doing this particular kind of work, and are dependent upon it for bread as well as butter; and lastly and chiefly, because we are heavily backed, as a body, by the capital of the publisher, of which we desire to obtain for ourselves as much as possible. Therefore novels will continue to be written, perhaps for a long time to come. There is a demand for them and there is profit in producing them. Who shall prevent us, authors and publishers, from continuing the production and supplying the demand?

  This brings with it a first answer to the question, “What is a novel?” A novel is a marketable commodity, of the class collectively termed “luxuries,” as not contributing directly to the support of life or the maintenance of health. It is of the class “artistic luxuries” because it does not appeal to any of the three material senses — touch, taste, smell; and it is of the class “intellectual artistic luxuries,” because it is not judged by the superior senses — sight and hearing. The novel, therefore, is an intellectual artistic luxury — a definition which can be made to include a good deal, but which is, in reality, a closer one than it appears to be at first sight. No one, I think, will deny that it covers the three principal essentials of the novel as it should be, of a story or romance, which in itself and in the manner of telling it shall appeal to the intellect, shall satisfy the requirements of art, and shall be a luxury, in that it can be of no use to a man when he is at work, but may conduce to peace of mind and delectation during his hours of idleness. The point upon which people differ is the artistic one, and the fact that such differences of opinion exist makes it possible that two writers as widely separated as Mr. Henry James and Mr. Rider Haggard, for instance, find appreciative readers in the same year of the same century — a fact which the literary history of the future will find it hard to explain.

  PROBABLY no one denies that the first object of the novel is to amuse and interest the reader. But it is often said that the novel should instruct as well as afford amusement, and the “novel-with-a-purpose” is the realisation of this idea. We might invent a better expression than that clumsy translation of the neat German “Tendenz-Roman.” Why not compound the words and call the odious thing a “purpose-novel”? The purpose-novel, then, proposes to serve two masters, besides procuring a reasonable amount of bread and butter for its writer and publisher. It proposes to escape from my definition of the novel in general and make itself an “intellectual moral lesson” instead of an “intellectual artistic luxury.” It constitutes a violation of the unwritten contract tacitly existing between writer and reader. So far as supply and demand are concerned, books in general and works of fiction in particular are commodities and subject to the same laws, statutory and traditional, as other articles of manufacture. A toy-dealer would not venture to sell real pistols to little boys as pop-guns, and a gun-maker who should try to sell the latter for army revolvers would get into trouble, even though he were able to prove that the toy was as expensive to manufacture as the real article, or more so, silver-mounted, chiselled, and lying in a Russia-leather case. I am not sure that the law might not support the purchaser in an action for damages if he discovered at a critical moment that his revolver was a plaything. It seems to me that there is a similar case in the matter of novels. A man buys what purports to be a work of fiction, a romance, a novel, a story of adventure, pays his money, takes his book home, prepares to enjoy it at his ease, and discovers that he has paid a dollar for somebody’s views on socialism, religion, or the divorce laws.

  Such books are generally carefully suited with an attractive title. The binding is as frivolous as can be desired. The bookseller says it is “a work of great power,” and there is probably a sentimental dedication on the fly-leaf to a number of initials to which a romantic appearance is given by the introduction of a stray “St.” and a few hyphens. The buyer is possibly a conservative person, of lukewarm religious convictions, whose life is made “barren by marriage, or death, or division” — and who takes no sort of interest in the laws relating to divorce, in the invention of a new religion, or the position of the labour question. He has simply paid money, on the ordinary tacit contract between furnisher and purchaser, and he has been swindled, to use a very plain term for which a substitute does not occur to me. Or say that a man buys a seat in one of the regular theatres. He enters, takes his place, preparing to be amused, and the curtain goes up. The stage is set as a church, there i
s a pulpit before the prompter’s box, and the Right Reverend the Bishop of the Diocese is on the point of delivering a sermon. The man would be legally justified in demanding his money at the door, I fancy, and would probably do so, though he might admit that the Bishop was the most learned and edifying of preachers. There are indeed certain names and prefixes to names which suggest serious reading, independently of the words printed on the title-page of the book. If the Archbishop of Canterbury, or General Booth, or the Emperor William published a novel, for instance, the work might reasonably be expected to contain an exposition of personal views on some question of the day. But in ordinary cases the purpose-novel is a simple fraud, besides being a failure in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand.

  What we call a novel may educate the taste and cultivate the intelligence; under the hand of genius it may purify the heart and fortify the mind; it should never under any circumstances be suffered to deprave the one nor to weaken the other; it may stand for scores of years — and a score of years is a long time in our day — as the exposition of all that is noble, heroic, honest, and true in the life of woman or man; but it has no right to tell us what its writer thinks about the relations of labour and capital, nor to set up what the author conceives to be a nice, original, easy scheme of salvation, any more than it has a right to take for its theme the relative merits of the “broomstick-car” and the “storage system,” temperance, vivisection, or the “Ideal Man” of Confucius. Lessons, lectures, discussions, sermons, and didactics generally belong to institutions set apart for especial purposes and carefully avoided, after a certain age, by the majority of those who wish to be amused. The purpose-novel is an odious attempt to lecture people who hate lectures, to preach at people who prefer their own church, and to teach people who think they know enough already. It is an ambush, a lying-in-wait for the unsuspecting public, a violation of the social contract — and as such it ought to be either mercilessly crushed or forced by law to bind itself in black and label itself “Purpose” in very big letters.