d which had imposing passages of school-boy eloquence in it, and
gave him a reputation on the spot as an orator, and his name, later,
in the society's records, of the "Martyr Orator." He went to his death
breathing slaughter and charging his society to "avenge his murder." If
he knew anything of human nature he knew that to plenty of young fellows
present in that great crowd he was a grand hero--and enviably situated.

He was hanged. It was a mistake. Within a month from his death the
society which he had honored had twenty new members, some of them
earnest, determined men. They did not court distinction in the same way,
but they celebrated his martyrdom. The crime which had been obscure and
despised had become lofty and glorified.

Such things were happening all over the country. Wild-brained martyrdom
was succeeded by uprising and organization. Then, in natural order,
followed riot, insurrection, and the wrack and restitutions of war. It
was bound to come, and it would naturally come in that way. It has been
the manner of reform since the beginning of the world.

SWITZERLAND, THE CRADLE OF LIBERTY

Interlaken, Switzerland, 1891.

It is a good many years since I was in Switzerland last. In that remote
time there was only one ladder railway in the country. That state of
things is all changed. There isn't a mountain in Switzerland now that
hasn't a ladder railroad or two up its back like suspenders; indeed,
some mountains are latticed with them, and two years hence all will
be. In that day the peasant of the high altitudes will have to carry a
lantern when he goes visiting in the night to keep from stumbling over
railroads that have been built since his last round. And also in that
day, if there shall remain a high-altitude peasant whose potato-patch
hasn't a railroad through it, it would make him as conspicuous as
William Tell.

However, there are only two best ways to travel through Switzerland. The
first best is afloat. The second best is by open two-horse carriage. One
can come from Lucerne to Interlaken over the Brunig by ladder railroad
in an hour or so now, but you can glide smoothly in a carriage in ten,
and have two hours for luncheon at noon--for luncheon, not for rest.
There is no fatigue connected with the trip. One arrives fresh in spirit
and in person in the evening--no fret in his heart, no grime on his
face, no grit in his hair, not a cinder in his eye. This is the right
condition of mind an