sticks to raising one or two things only. Hence his dependence on society for all of his other necessities.

Even then he cannot confine himself to his specialty without society helping him in that.

First, he must have the railroad to carry away his crops and bring to him machinery, tools, supplies, etc. The elevator, stock yards, and telegraphs play an important part in his life.

The scythe, pitchfork and hand rake have given place to the six-foot-cut mower, the sulky tedder and horsefork. The windmill has taken the place of the well, and the steam thresher, with automatic feeder and blow stacker, does in an hour the work that once kept the flail busy for a week.

In short, the tendency toward specialization is the same on the farm almost as in the factory, and has the same effect. Being, then, such a member of society, he is helped or injured by everything that helps or injures it. Strikes and panics effect him; wars and rumors of war; the rains of India, and the floods of Russia; all play upon him. He is no longer far removed from us; he is one of us.

But he is still a serf to the landlord, the trusts and big corporations. Let us see. First of all, his productive power has been greatly increased. It does him no good. He works so many days in the year for the mortgager; a certain number of days for the harvest machine manufacturer, the wire and twine trust, and so on down the

line. The time he has left is his own, which is, as in the case of the serf of old, a bare living.

To-day he has the form and appearance of owning the land, but in reality he only accumulates for others. What he really owns is a permanent and exhausting job that nets him a few cents per day. His work is like the sweated. trades of the city slums. It is work done at home. Himself, wife, sons and daughters all toil laboriously, from sunrise to sunset, with but few holidays and little recreation.

The farmer would see the point and raise a great protest if he were asked to do the same thing on one of the big syndicate or bonanza farms. But now he congratulates himself that he is not at the caprice of some employer in a factory who might discharge him at will. In the meantime his wife is frequently driven insane by the grinding toil, as statistics show. His children also must often stop school to help in the field.

There was a time long ago when the farmer knew he was a serf, and did not pretend to be free. In those days he worked only a certain number of days for himself, and a certain number for his lord. But to-day some think he is free in spite of the fact that all of his products, almost, are taken from him by our modern industrial system, that leaves him but a mere pittance for himself. He is almost a serf to-day, under different conditions.

In the olden time if the farmer could not sell his product he could consume it himself. To-day he must sell it

to get hold of money. He could not live under modern complex conditions without money. Thus often he is forced to sell at the lowest prices. Other farmers fare likewise. Keen competition prevails. This competition is further increased by the annihilation of distance, as the railroads handling products from far and near bring him in competition with all his class.

Almost as bad off as the factory hand, he has no unions like them to uphold prices. He is unorganized; belongs to no trust, and there is nothing to prevent his income being reduced steadily each year.

These are all facts-serious facts-that must be dealt with soberly. No light, superficial treatment will suffice. The class it concerns is too large; the people that comprise it too honest and hardworking. How grating on the nerves, then, are the observations of some of our would-be thinkers and leaders.

While attending a convocation of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York City, Bishop Worthington's views respecting the social commotion were gleaned by a newspaper man and published broadcast on October 25, '96. He is reported to have said:

"The trouble with the farmer, in my judgment, is that we have carried our free educational system entirely too far. Of course, I know that this view will be considered as a bit of heresy, but still I believe it. The farmer's sons-a great many of them-who have absolutely no ability to rise, get a taste of education and follow it up. They will

never amount to anything—that is, many of them-and they become dissatisfied to follow in the walk of life that God intended they should, and drift into the cities. It is the over-education of those who are not qualified to receive it that fills our cities while the farms lie idle."

HON. W. J. BRYAN'S REPLY.

As to the justice of the Bishop's suggestion, we leave it for Mr. W. J. Bryan to answer, quoting from his pressreported reply as follows:

"To talk about the over-education of the farmers' sons and to attribute the difficulties which surround us to-day to over-education, is, to my mind, one of the most cruel things a man ever uttered. The idea of saying that farmers' sons, who are not able to rise in life, get a taste of education, and enjoy the taste so much that they follow it up and become dissatisfied with the farm and drift into the cities! The idea of saying that there is over-education among our farmers' sons! My friends, do you know what that language means? It means a reversal of the progress of civilization and a march toward the dark ages again.

"How can you tell which one of the farmers' sons is going to prove a great man until you have educated them all? Are we to select a commission to go around and pick out the ones that are to be educated?

"Ah, my friends, there is another reason why people have gone into the cities and left the farms. It is because your legislation has been causing the foreclosure of mortgages on the farmers and the farms. It is because your