M. of Bedlam

Random Thoughts on Tolstoy

2008-10-13T06:23:00Z

Maslova in Prison - Chapter 1

Though hundreds of thousands had done their very best to disfigure the small piece of land on which they were crowded together, by paving the ground with stones, scraping away every vestige of vegetation, cutting down the trees, turning away birds and beasts, and filling the air with the smoke of naphtha and coal, still spring was spring, even in the town.

The sun shone warm, the air was balmy; everywhere, where it did not get scraped away, the grass revived and sprang up between the paving-stones as well as on the narrow strips of lawn on the boulevards. The birches, the poplars, and the wild cherry unfolded their gummy and fragrant leaves, the limes were expanding their opening buds; crows, sparrows, and pigeons, filled with the joy of spring, were getting their nests ready; the flies were buzzing along the walls, warmed by the sunshine. All were glad, the plants, the birds, the insects, and the children. But men, grown-up men and women, did not leave off cheating and tormenting themselves and each other. It was not this spring morning men thought sacred and worthy of consideration not the beauty of God's world, given for a joy to all creatures, this beauty which inclines the heart to peace, to harmony, and to love, but only their own devices for enslaving one another.

Thus, in the prison office of the Government town, it was not the fact that men and animals had received the grace and gladness of spring that was considered sacred and important, but that a notice, numbered and with a superscription, had come the day before, ordering that on this 28th day of April, at 9 a.m., three prisoners at present detained in the prison, a man and two women (one of these women, as the chief criminal, to be conducted separately), had to appear at Court. So now, on the 28th of April, at 8 o'clock, a jailer and soon after him a woman warder with curly grey hair, dressed in a jacket with sleeves trimmed with gold, with a blue-edged belt round her waist, and having a look of suffering on her face, came into the corridor.

"You want Maslova?" she asked, coming up to the cell with the jailer who was on duty.

The jailer, rattling the iron padlock, opened the door of the cell, from which there came a whiff of air fouler even than that in the corridor, and called out, "Maslova! to the Court," and closed the door again.

Even into the prison yard the breeze had brought the fresh vivifying air from the fields. But in the corridor the air was laden with the germs of typhoid, the smell of sewage, putrefaction, and tar; every newcomer felt sad and dejected in it. The woman warder felt this, though she was used to bad air. She had just come in from outside, and entering the corridor, she at once became sleepy.

From inside the cell came the sound of bustle and women's voices, and the patter of bare feet on the floor.

"Now, then, hurry up, Maslova, I say!" called out the jailer, and in a minute or two a small young woman with a very full bust came briskly out of the door and went up to the jailer. She had on a grey cloak over a white jacket and petticoat. On her feet she wore linen stockings and prison shoes, and round her head was tied a white kerchief, from under which a few locks of black hair were brushed over the forehead with evident intent. The face of the woman was of that whiteness peculiar to people who have lived long in confinement, and which puts one in mind of shoots of potatoes that spring up in a cellar. Her small broad hands and full neck, which showed from under the broad collar of her cloak, were of the same hue. Her black, sparkling eyes, one with a slight squint, appeared in striking contrast to the dull pallor of her face.

She carried herself very straight, expanding her full bosom.

With her head slightly thrown back, she stood in the corridor, looking straight into the eyes of the jailer, ready to comply with any order.

The jailer was about to lock the door when a wrinkled and severe-looking old woman put out her grey head and began speaking to Maslova. But the jailer closed the door, pushing the old woman's head with it. A woman's laughter was heard from the cell, and Maslova smiled, turning to the little grated opening in the cell door. The old woman pressed her face to the grating from the other side, and said, in a hoarse voice:

"Now mind, and when they begin questioning you, just repeat over the same thing, and stick to it; tell nothing that is not wanted."

"Well, it could not be worse than it is now, anyhow; I only wish it was settled one way or another."

"Of course, it will be settled one way or another," said the jailer, with a superior's self-assured witticism. "Now, then, get along! Take your places!"

The old woman's eyes vanished from the grating, and Maslova stepped out into the middle of the corridor. The warder in front, they descended the stone stairs, past the still fouler, noisy cells of the men's ward, where they were followed by eyes looking out of every one of the gratings in the doors, and entered the office, where two soldiers were waiting to escort her. A clerk who was sitting there gave one of the soldiers a paper reeking of tobacco, and pointing to the prisoner, remarked, "Take her."

The soldier, a peasant from Nijni Novgorod, with a red, pock-marked face, put the paper into the sleeve of his coat, winked to his companion, a broad-shouldered Tchouvash, and then the prisoner and the soldiers went to the front entrance, out of the prison yard, and through the town up the middle of the roughly-paved street.

Isvostchiks [cabmen], tradespeople, cooks, workmen, and government clerks, stopped and looked curiously at the prisoner; some shook their heads and thought, "This is what evil conduct, conduct unlike ours, leads to." The children stopped and gazed at the robber with frightened looks; but the thought that the soldiers were preventing her from doing more harm quieted their fears. A peasant, who had sold his charcoal, and had had some tea in the town, came up, and, after crossing himself, gave her a copeck. The prisoner blushed and muttered something; she noticed that she was attracting everybody's attention, and that pleased her. The comparatively fresh air also gladdened her, but it was painful to step on the rough stones with the ill-made prison shoes on her feet, which had become unused to walking. Passing by a corn-dealer's shop, in front of which a few pigeons were strutting about, unmolested by any one, the prisoner almost touched a grey-blue bird with her foot; it fluttered up and flew close to her ear, fanning her with its wings. She smiled, then sighed deeply as she remembered her present position.

It is a shame I cannot speak Russian so that I may listen to the words of this story in its mother tongue. It is a shame that not enough people have desired to read his works. There is every reason to regard Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy as one of the greatest political philosophers, writers, dissenters and warriors of the human condition. There is no good reason to not read what he penned. As I write, I am reading Resurrection. I also have just garnered copies of <i>Anna Karenina, War and Peace</i>, and all other essays or letters I could find.

He made no mistake condemning the act of revolution or war. He critiqued anything that practiced coercion or force, from the state to private property, marriage, and the organized church’s continued beneficence to the state.

It seems as if Tolstoy’s rationale sought satiation by accepting the irrational existence. It is clear that there is a marked emotional difference, an evolution, of the Tolstoy before War and Peace – and the prophetically disquieted writer of post-Anna Karenina. Indeed it seems there was a transition from the realist to the modernist.

In War and Peace it is obvious where Tolstoy surrenders the rationality of man to the irrational existence. He captures the people in aggregate, as a force, as events that shape themselves. It seems here that he doesn’t find the individual force to be powerful at all. Somehow this changes. Anna Karenina is to the eye just another romance. However; it is blatant with criticisms of custom and excess of the aristocrats. In short; it was a story of accepting the self within and holding onto that despite societies abundant falsehood and pageantry. The tragedy with Anna was her inability to choose between the two forces; yet another vision of human weakness and the bitter struggle for integrity, but moreso love.

I cannot provide enough analysis of this ‘love’ on my own – this letter speaks for itself. I find that the more I read of his collaborative efforts with anarchists – the more I am left in silence. I can only ruminate that it was emotion that drove Tolstoy’s powerful plea.

To Gandhi, Johannesburg, Transvaal, South Africa.

KOCHETY. 7th September 1910.

I received your journal, Indian Opinion, and was glad to see what it says of those who renounce all resistance by force, and I immediately felt a wish to let you know what thoughts its perusal aroused in me.

The longer I live-especially now when I clearly feel the approach of death-the more I feel moved to express what I feel more strongly than anything else, and what in my opinion is of immense importance, namely, what we call the renunciation of all opposition by force, which really simply means the doctrine of the law of love unperverted by sophistries. Love, or in other words the striving of men's souls towards unity and the submissive behaviour to one another that results therefrom, represents the highest and indeed the only law of life, as every man knows and feels in the depths of his heart (and as we see most clearly in children), and knows until he becomes involved in the lying net of worldly thoughts. This law was announced by all the philosophies- Indian as well as Chinese, and Jewish, Greek and Roman. Most clearly, I think, was it announced by Christ, who said explicitly that on it hang all the Law and the Prophets. More than that, foreseeing the distortion that has hindered its recognition and may always hinder it, he specially indicated the danger of a misrepresentation that presents itself to men living by worldly interests- namely, that they may claim a right to defend their interests by force or, as he expressed it, to repay blow by blow and recover stolen property by force, etc., etc. He knew, as all reasonable men must do, that any employment of force is incompatible with love as the highest law of life, and that as soon as the use of force appears permissible even in a single case, the law itself is immediately negatived. The whole of Christian civilization, outwardly so splendid, has grown up on this strange and flagrant- partly intentional but chiefly unconscious-misunderstanding and contradiction. At bottom, however, the law of love is, and can be, no longer valid if defence by force is set up beside it. And if once the law of love is not valid, then there remains no law except the right of might. In that state Christendom has lived for 1,900 years. Certainly men have always let themselves be guided by force as the main principle of their social order. The difference between the Christian and all other nations is only this: that in Christianity the law of love had been more clearly and definitely given than in any other religion, and that its adherents solemnly recognized it. Yet despite this they deemed the use of force to be permissible, and based their lives on violence - so that the life of the Christian nations presents a greater contradiction between what they believe and the principle on which their lives are built: a contradiction between love which should pre scribe the law of conduct, and the employment of force, recognized under various forms-such as governments, courts of justice, and armies, which are accepted as necessary and esteemed. This contradiction increased with the development of the spiritual life of Christianity and in recent years has reached the utmost tension.

The question now is, that we must choose one of two things-either to admit that we recognize no religious ethics at all but let our conduct of life be decided by the right of might; or to demand that all compulsory levying of taxes be discontinued, and all our legal and police institutions, and above all, military institutions, be abolished.

This spring, at a scripture examination in a Moscow girls' school, first their religious teacher and then an archbishop who was also present, questioned the girls on the ten commandments, especially on the sixth. After the commandments had been correctly recited the archbishop sometimes put a question, usually: 'Is it always and in every case forbidden by the law of God to kill?' And the unfortunate girls, misled by their instructor, had to answer and did answer: 'Not always, for it is permissible in war and at executions.' When, however, this customary additional question-whether it is always a sin to kill-was put to one of these unfortunate creatures (what I am telling you is not an anecdote, but actually happened and was told me by an eyewitness) the girl colored up and answered decidedly and with emotion - 'Always!' And despite all the customary sophistries of the archbishop, she held steadfastly to it-that to kill is under all circumstances forbidden even in the Old Testament, and that Christ has not only forbidden us to kill, but in general to do any harm to our neighbor. The archbishop, for all his majesty and verbal dexterity, was silenced, and victory remained with the girl.

Yes, we may write in the papers of our progress in mastery of the air, of complicated diplomatic relation, of various clubs, of discoveries, of all sorts of alliances, and of so-called works of art, and we can pass lightly over what that girl said. But we cannot completely silence her, for every Christian feels the same, however vaguely he may do so. Socialism, Communism, Anarchism' Salvation Armies, the growth of crime, freedom from toil, the increasingly absurd luxury of the rich and increased misery of the poor, the fearfully rising number of suicides-are all indications of that inner contradiction which must and will be resolved. And, of course, resolved in such a manner that the law of love will be recognized and all reliance on force abandoned. Your work in the Transvaal, which to us seems to be at the end of the earth, is yet in the centre of our interest and supplies the most weighty practical proof, in which the world can now share, and not only the Christian but all the peoples of the world can participate.

I think it will please you to hear that here in Russia, too, a similar movement is rapidly attracting attention, and refusals of military service increase year by year. However small as yet is with you the number of those who renounce all resistance by force, and with us the number of men who refuse any military service-both the one and the other can say: God is with us, and God is mightier than man.

In the confession of Christianity-even a Christianity deformed as is that taught among us-and a simultaneous belief in the necessity of armies and preparations to slaughter on an ever-increasing scale, there is an obvious contradiction that cries to heaven, and that sooner or later, but probably quite soon, must appear in the light of day in its complete nakedness. That, however, will either annihilate the Christian religion, which is indispensable for the maintenance of the State, or it will sweep away the military and all the use of force bound up with it-which the State needs no less. All governments are aware of this contradiction, your British as much as our Russian, and therefore its recognition will be more energetically opposed by the governments than any other activity inimical to the State, as we in Russia have experienced and as is shown by the articles in your magazine. The governments know from what direction the greatest danger threatens them, and are on guard with watchful eyes not merely to preserve their interests but actually to fight for their very existence.

Yours etc., LEO TOLSTOY.

Spirit..

2008-10-10T04:43:00Z

"And by anarchist spirit I mean that deeply human sentiment, which aims at the good of all, freedom and justice for all, solidarity and love among the people; which is not an exclusive characteristic only of self-declared anarchists, but inspires all people who have a generous heart and an open mind." – Errico Malatesta

Logic, reason and everything that is Aristotelian is a powerful weapon to prove our case for liberty. I rather not play on the onus probandi and instead appeal indirectly to those who cringe from intellectual pursuits. I can't ask you to take notes on what I have to say. Instead I ask that you enjoy what I have to say - when leisure allows for it. I find that here at Mises Institute we have a plethora of scholars all quite sharp of mind which completely makes up for my lack of acumen. I shall for the most part in my writing, let those who think – do what they do best. I readily accept their thoughts and contrast them to mine – I love to learn and love to read their viewpoints.

As we all know the general publics opinion and knowledge of free-markets and indeed liberty is dismal at best. At worst they mistake nihilists for us. Mental acuity is not enough alone to combat this. One must cross borders of intellect to lands bordering religion and myth. One must appeal to the soul. There are quite a few who would scoff at non-intellectual pursuits on the ideals of freedom. However; I think that people readily grasp personal reasons than general applications of philosophy. In fact it seems that philosophers hold everything but the frontal lobe with contempt. So while you do your best advancing the scholarship of liberty I do my best advancing the expression of self.

I am approaching these ideals with nothing in mind but self-realization. It is very easy to grasp that one can become the artist of your direction in life. Freedom from confines is freedom of expression. Freedom of expression is art. When this freedom to express is shared with others - there is a way to ignite something that logic alone was incapable of accomplishing.

I cannot help it. I’ve argued heatedly and I’ve held the coldest of discourse. When one mocked me or made preconceived notions of the love for my theory – I tempered it with heavy-laden logic. I perceive it is this logic that is indeed, heavy; indeed leaden. For while it is one thing to utterly confound my opposition to my beliefs with wit and intellect (and I could always use more) – it is another to completely lose them by attacking with disregard for emotions and attention spans. Once boredom in your opponent is conceived, the point of displaying the thought (no matter how strong the argument) is fruitless.

Authors have helped shed light on the role of anarchist theory and their figureheads in the manifestations of modern art. It is easy to surmise that political tradition and classical pleasantries were ‘threatened’ by the questioning graze of the painters brush, the sculptors chisel, and the writers prose through the medium of aesthetics.

I recently stumbled upon Ian Davis. I tumbled across a scene; a tundra, framed by a wintry gray-scape where symmetry was all too apparent. Strategy revealed the absurd orchestration of men marching in neat little rows. Redcoats paced into the horizon without a purpose in sight and with their sights set to their feet.

Most of his artwork swirls around the bumbling and destructive quality of humans. Pointless journeys, bureaucratic formations and oblique geometric representations of our monstrous enclave are all softened with faux-naïf presentation. The individuals are always reduced to a babbling mass. Like any true artist, he doesn’t reveal his ideas without first raising your brows in curiosity.

I wasn’t struck by curiosity so much as awe. I have always felt a need to oppose any repression or any directive as long as I’ve lived. Always I’ve maintained a craving. This craving grew in direct opposition to conventionality and tradition. This craving evolved to disagree with fads and fashion. This hunger grew for something that wasn’t force fed down the throat. This taste spat out the spun out details of elections and wars. It digested subjective history on administration and facts on bureaucracy. It was pleased at first. But I grew hungry to know: what about the people? Who paid for all these wars? What did they say the commoners huddled in their homes? The dissatisfaction grew before childhood ended. You see all that was necessary was to but ignite my fuel to pursue liberty.

I grew older and the disgust bloomed with it. I grew further angry that life was a never ending tale of bureaucracy. I learned fury when I looked on my high school classmates in quiet disbelief – seeing them for the cogs they were. Oh I’ve learned and I would continue to learn. But I would not recall my bitter outrage so suddenly and with such clarity were it not for the works of Ian Davis. I would not have felt so inclined to write this – without inspiration.

We are human. The surface is comprised of logic. The bulk beneath is raw ore. To attack emotional appeal – one must fairly attack the logical portion of our beings. So I hope to wield the ephemeral inspiration humbly and share that torch with others blind to its ideal.

1. Christine Stansell, American Modern: Bohemian New York and the Creation of a New Century (New York: Henry Holt, 2000). Alan Antliff, Anarchist Modern: Art, Politics, and the First American Avant-garde (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001).

2. http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/ian_davis.htm

3. (Does anyone know how to put pictures in blog posts?) lol.

If A Person Comes Along - You Must Whip It!

2008-10-09T02:51:00Z

What does one mean by state? I'll try and play devil's advocate. Let's say I'm a fan of the state. Let’s say I’m a Statesman. This bears down to a few key points in ideology. To spare people from having to grind their gears I’m going to play a game of truth. Be honest, if you believe in the political party, you believe in most of this deep down. Go ahead and admit it. It’s ok to be a tyrant. Be proud of your beliefs! Better that than lie to yourselves and others.

As a Statesman I believe in principle that an individual and/or band of individuals needs to invade the territory and rights of other individuals or bands of individuals so that they may be represented according to whim. If one goes beyond his bounds of permission (freedom) than he needs to be punished for not abiding by the rules I would like to enforce on him.

Let’s be honest, as a Statesman (better known as a Republicrat.) I believe in an unquantifiable, sans-qualitative 'majority' vote where people attempt to pass their rights to me so that I may represent them. Because I'm representing them I choose not to believe that people pay for what they get. I believe that people must pay in taxes for services whether they want those services or not. I believe that my aggression which is a violation of equal liberty necessitates confiscation of a wo/man's earnings to pay for their protection which they didn't necessarily ask for - but are going to get anyway. I believe that people must foot the bill for violations of their intrinsic rights to freedom.

As an honest Statist I confess that there is no moral obligation – only an obligation to society. They are obligations because I obviously cannot consciously nor voluntarily assume I can discover my own moral fiber without being told what's good and what's bad. No, murder, theft and property crimes aren't self-evident. I believe that we must give up the individual 'rights' and bow in service to those who would protect me from myself and those sneaky plotting neighbors.

I believe in non-utilitarian methods of dominion. I don't believe in expediency, knowledge, epistemology, or science. I choose to ignore that history reveals that humanity has made a slow and painfully gradual discovery that a free society necessitates a free individual. I choose to ignore that advances in technology especially on the grounds of internet empower individuals more naturally than aggregates. I choose to ignore that emergent social interaction is exemplified by people voluntarily associating with each other on the internet and cannot do so in person. I choose to ignore that decentralization and entropy of my force on others is natural law and justice at work.

I choose to not adopt a live and let live approach. I choose instead to tread against the rights of others because I know better (and its a profitable return on investment). I choose to use coercion and force and I choose to say its all for liberty.

I choose to believe that people cannot privatize the provisions of energy, waste management, law and order, nor banking as they are currently monopolized by government.

As a statesman I believe in welfare and warfare. I believe that the Constitution is outdated so I need to come up with fundamental social laws that can be reduced to habits in and outside the bedroom.

To let you know where I irreducibly stand as your representative, I’m going to counter Proudhon word for word. I believe that people need to be watched, inspected, spied, directed, law-ridden, regulated, penned up, indoctrinated, preached at, checked, appraised, sized, censured, commanded; by beings who have neither title nor knowledge nor virtue. I believe that every operation every transaction, every movement noted, registered, counted, rated, stamped, measured, numbered, assessed, licensed, refused, authorized, indorsed, admonished, prevented, reformed, redressed, and corrected.

I believe that for the sake of general interest, that people need to be drilled, fleeced, exploited, monopolized, extorted from, exhausted, hoaxed, robbed; then upon the slighted resistance, at the first word of complaint, to be repressed, fined, vilified, annoyed, hunted down, pulled about, beaten, disarmed, bound, imprisoned, shot, judged, condemned, banished, sacrificed, sold, betrayed and to crown all, ridiculed, derided, outraged and then dishonored.

Today's Reading: Benjamin Tucker

2008-10-09T01:39:00Z

I was inspired to pull a book from my shelf at random. It was quite possibly prophetic that I pull, Benjamin R. Tucker:

Because I hardly say it better.

Why am I an Anarchist? That is the question which the editor of the Twentieth Century has requested me to answer for his readers. I comply; but, to be frank, I find it a difficult task. If the editor or one of his contributors had only suggested a reason why I should be anything other than an Anarchist, I am sure I should have no difficulty in disputing the argument. And does not this very fact, after all, furnish in itself the best of all reasons why I should be an Anarchist – namely, the impossibility of discovering any good reason for being anything else? To show the invalidity of the claims of State Socialism, Nationalism, Communism, Single-taxism, the prevailing capitalism, and all the numerous forms of Archism existing or proposed, is at the same blow to show the validity of the claims of Anarchism. Archism once denied, only Anarchism can be affirmed. That is a matter of logic.

But evidently the present demand upon me is not to be met satisfactorily in this way. The error and puerility of State Socialism and all the despotisms to which it is akin have been repeatedly and effectively shown in many ways and in many places. There is no reason why I should traverse this ground with the readers of the Twentieth Century, even though it is all sufficient for proof of Anarchism. Something positive is wanted, I suppose.

Well, then, to start with the broadest generalization. I am an Anarchist because Anarchism and the philosophy of Anarchism are conducive to my own happiness. “Oh, yes, if that were the case, of course we should all be Anarchists,” the Archists will shout with one voice – at least all that are emancipated from religious and ethical superstitions – “but you beg the question; we deny that Anarchism is conducive to our happiness.”

Do you, my friends? Really, I don’t believe you when you say so; or, to put it more courteously, I don’t believe you will say so when you once understand Anarchism.

For what are the conditions of happiness? Of perfect happiness, many. But the primal and main conditions are few and simple. Are they not liberty and material prosperity? Is it not essential to the happiness of every developed being that he and those around him should be free, and that he and those around him should know no anxiety regarding the satisfaction of their material needs? It seems idle to deny it, and, in the event of denial, it would seem equally idle to argue it. No amount of evidence that human happiness has increased with human liberty would convince a man incapable of appreciating the value of liberty without reinforcement by induction. And to all but such a man it is also self-evident that of these two conditions – liberty and wealth – the former takes precedence as a factor in the production of happiness. It would be but a poor apology for happiness that either factor alone could give, if it could not produce nor be accompanied by the other; but, on the whole, much liberty and little wealth would be preferable to much wealth and little liberty. The complaint of Archistic Socialists that the Anarchists are bourgeois is true to this extent and no further – that, great as is their detestation for a bourgeois society, they prefer its partial liberty to the complete slavery of State Socialism. For one, I certainly can look with more pleasure – no, less pain – upon the present seething, surging struggle, in which some are up and some are down, some falling and some rising, some rich and many poor, but none completely fettered or altogether hopeless of as better future, than I could upon Mr. Thaddeus Wakeman’s ideal, uniform, and miserable community of teamy, placid, and slavish oxen. [: Thaddeus Burr Wakeman (1834-1913), leading American Positivist. – RTL]

To repeat, then, I do not believe that many of the Archists can be brought to say in so many words that liberty is not the prime condition of happiness, and in that case they cannot deny that Anarchism, which is but another name for liberty, is conducive to happiness. This being true, I have not begged the question and I have already established my case. Nothing is more needed to justify my Anarchistic creed. Even if some form of Archism could be devised that would create infinite wealth, and distribute it with perfect equity (pardon the absurd hypothesis of a distribution of the infinite), still the fact that in itself it is a denial of the prime condition of happiness, would compel its rejection and the acceptance of its sole alternative, Anarchism.
But, though this is enough, it is not all. It is enough for justification, but not enough for inspiration. The happiness possible in any society that does not improve upon the present in the matter of the distribution of wealth, can hardly be described as beatific. No prospect can be positively alluring that does not promise both requisites of happiness – liberty and wealth. Now, Anarchism does promise both. In fact, it promises the second as the result of the first, and happiness as the result of both.

This brings us into the sphere of economics. Will liberty abundantly produce and equitably distribute wealth? That is the remaining question to consider. And certainly it cannot be adequately treated in a single article in the Twentieth Century. A few generalizations are permissable [sic] at most.

What causes the inequitable distribution of wealth? “Competition,” cry the State Socialists. And if they are right, then, indeed, we are in a bad box, for we shall, in that case, never be able to get wealth without sacrificing liberty, and liberty we must have, whether or no. But, luckily, they are not right. It is not competition, but monopoly, that deprives labor of its product. Wages, inheritance, gifts, and gambling aside, every process by which we acquire wealth, rests upon a monopoly, a prohibition, a denial of liberty. Interest and rent of buildings rest on the banking monopoly, the prohibition of competition in finance, the denial of the liberty to issue currency; ground rent rests on the land monopoly, the denial of the liberty to use vacant land; profits in excess of wages rest upon the tariff and patent monopolies, the prohibition or limitation of competition in the industries and arts. There is but one exception, and that a comparatively trivial one; I refer to economic rent as distinguished from monopolistic rent. This does not rest upon a denial of liberty; it is one of nature’s inequalities. It probably will remain with us always. Complete liberty will very much lessen it; of that I have no doubt. But I do not ever expect it to ever reach the vanishing point to which Mr. M’Cready looks forward so confidently. At the worst, however, it will be a small matter, no more worth consideration in comparison with liberty than the slight disparity that will always exist in consequence of inequalities of skill.

If, then, all these methods of extortion from labor rest upon denials of liberty, plainly the remedy consists in the realization of liberty.

Destroy the banking monopoly, establish freedom in finance, and down will go interest on money through the beneficent influence of competition. Capital will be set free, business will flourish, new enterprises will start, labor will be in demand, and gradually the wages of labor will rise to a level with its product. And it is the same with the other monopolies. Abolish the tariffs, issue no patents[,] take down the bars from unoccupied land, and labor will straightway rush in and take possession of its own. Then mankind will live in freedom and in comfort.

That is what I want to see; that is what I love to think of. And because anarchism will give this state of things, I am an Anarchist. To assert that it will is not to prove it; that I know. But neither can it be disproved by mere denial. I am waiting for some one to show me by history, fact, or logic that men have social wants superior to liberty and wealth or that any form of Archism will secure them these wants. Until then the foundations of my political and economic creed will remain as I have outlined them in this brief article.