pulation will melt away at once. Like iron filings
hanging on a magnet, in which one particle attracts and holds the
other, thus are people attracted to and held in places where society,
and with it labor, is organized.

Another and weighty reason to account for inter-migration, and
especially for the increase of population in cities, is that
agriculture, too, has undergone a change. The inventive genius of our
age, which keeps on creating labor-saving machinery, has not left this
branch of occupation untouched. As the mechanic had to go in order to
be replaced by the factory owner, thus the small farmer can no longer
exist beside a syndicate which will systematically cultivate large
tracts of land. The tendency of the time is to apply system also to
agricultural pursuits, to take that art out of the sphere of instinct
and to transplant it into the sphere of science.

In this paper I have merely sought to bring before the mind of the
reader important facts which are usually overlooked in the discussion
of the problem under consideration, believing it to be necessary to
adduce all the important evidence which bears upon the subject in
order that he may form a just and enlightened opinion on a great
living question of the first magnitude, as a frank statement of a
problem is of far greater value to the honest investigator than any
amount of ingenious reasonings from a narrow or distorted point of
view.

HE CAME AND WENT AGAIN.

BY WILL N. HARBEN.

He was the humblest man in the world. He wore ragged clothing and
lived in the filthiest tenement-house in New York. He was unlettered,
had never opened a book, and seemed to know little of the ways of men.
His hair and beard were long, and like golden silk; his eyes held the
blue of infinite space.

When wealthy people passed him they shook their heads and said, "He is
demented;" but the poor, who knew him, lowered their voices when he
was near and whispered that he belonged to a better world, for in his
eyes they saw a strange light of eternal kindness.

"Why are you so good to me?" the poor would ask, marvelling over his
tears of sympathy.

"Because I love you," he would answer, "and love is the mother of all
that is good. If you will love men as I do your way of life will be
strewn with roses from heaven and your vision know no end."

He had never been in a church nor heard one word in the Bible, and
yet, with a far-away light in his eyes, he used to talk