results of cultivation and training; but it receives in exchange for the music of isolated voices the volume and strength of the chorus.

The Settlement, then, is an experimental effort to aid in the solution of the social and industrial problems which are engendered by the modern conditions of life in a great city. It insists that these problems are not confined to any one portion of a city. It is an attempt to relieve, at the same time, the over-accumulation at one end of society and the destitution at the other; but it assumed that this over-accumulation and destitution are most sorely felt in the things that pertain to social and educational advantage. From its very nature it can stand for no political or social propaganda. It must, in a sense, give the warm welcome of an inn to all such propaganda, if perchance one of them be found an angel. The one thing to be dreaded in the Settlement is that it lose its flexibility, its power of quick adaptation, its readiness to change its methods as its environment may demand. It must be open to conviction and must have a deep and abiding sense of tolerance. It must be hospitable and ready for experiment. It should demand from its residents a scientific patience in the accumulation of facts and the steady holding of their sympathies as one of the best instruments for that accumulation. It must be grounded in a philosophy whose foundation is on the solidarity of the human race, a philosophy which will not waver when the race happens to be represented by a drunken woman or an idiot boy. Its

residents must be emptied of all conceit of opinion and all self-assertion, and ready to arouse and interpret the public opinion of their neighborhood. They must be content to live quietly side by side with their neighbors until they grow into a sense of relationship and mutual interests. Their neighbors are held apart by differences of race and language which the residents can more easily overcome. They are bound to see the needs of their neighborhood as a whole, to furnish data for legislation, and use their influence to secure it. In short, residents are pledged to devote themselves to the duties of good citizenship and to the arousing of the social energies which too largely lie dormant in every neighborhood given over to industrialism. They are bound to regard the entire life of their city as organic, to make an effort to unify it, and to protest against its over-differentiation.

The Settlement movement is from

its nature a provisional one. It is easy in writing a paper to make all philosophy point one particular moral and all history adorn one particular tale; but I hope you forgive me for reminding you that the best speculative philosophy sets forth the solidarity of the human race; that the highest moralists have taught that without the advance and improvement of the whole no man can hope for any lasting improvement in his own moral or material individual condition. The subjective necessity for Social Settlements is identical with the necessity which urges us on toward social and individual salvation.

With your kind permission for space, I will endeavor to give you a sketch of my trip in the South Seas. Having just returned to Mexico from a four-months sojourn through Central America, South America, and West India Islands. Leav

ing Salinas Cruz, we made our first landing at San Benito, a small town on the southeast coast of Mexico. This town has been totally destroyed eighteen times in the history of the world by volcanoes. The most prominent one,

the Santa Marias, can be seen in action, throwing out a stream of hot lava hundreds of feet in the air, presenting a most beautiful sight at night. Volcanic ashes are said to be four feet deep for many miles along the coast.

Leaving San Benito, our next stop was made at Ocos, Guatamala, a small place which also raises principally coffee and earthquakes. Next stop at Champerico, Guatamala, where we also took

a cargo of coffee. Leaving Camperico,

next stop was made at San Jose, Guatamala, having a stop of four days here. Changing cargo. I took the train and went to Guatamala City, a distance of 84 kilometers, where they charge twentyfive cents per kilometer first class fare, their money exchange being 18 for one dollar gold. Leaving San Jose at 8 a. m., and passing through some beautiful mountain scenery, arrived at Guatamala City at 7 p. m., finding a most picturesque and progressive city of 45,000 people, natives and Euopeans; altitude, 7,000 feet. This city has many buildings of historic wonder. The Saint Mary's cathedral, said to be four centuries old, and while badly "shook" several times by earthquakes, still is in good preservation. Returning the second day to my ship and setting sail some hour in the night, made our next stop at Acajutla, Salvador, a small place from which you can also see several volcanoes in action. Has a narrow-gauge railway to San Salvador, the capital city. Our next stop was at La Union, Salvador, situated in a most beautiful bay some twenty miles from deep sea. From here we sailed across the bay to beautiful Amapala, which is built on the highland overlooking the crystal waters of the bay, where fish can be seen at a depth of twenty fathoms. Our next stop was at Pt. Arenas, Costa Rica, and from there to Panama, a city where you are immediately given a sanitized circular before going ashore to beware of the female mosquito if you don't want to get small pox.

After a three-days stay in Panama we sailed along Columbia, the first of South America's countries, stopping one day at Buena Ventura, which is picturesquely situated in a bay a few miles

from the sea. From Buena Ventura our next stop was made at Punar, the mouth of the Guayaquil River, where, after being well looked over by the doctor, we sailed 84 miles up the Guayaquil River to Guayaquil, Ecuador, a city of 45,000, located directly under the equator, and from which it derives its name-Ecuador. They raise everything that you ever heard tell of here, and some things that you never will hear tell of. Seventy-five per cent of the world's supply of chocolate is grown in Ecuador. Ivory nuts, from which buttons are made, monkeys, smallpox, and all varieties of fevers. From here the Guayaquil & Quito Railway, a narrow gauge of 128 miles, 48 miles of which is 5 per cent grade. Leaving Guayaquil, we go back down the river and get out into blue water, and make next stop in Callao, Peru, a city of 40,000 composed of all races of people and very progressive. From Callao, next stop is made at Autofagasta, Chili, the heart of a most progressive mining district, large producing mines of nitric, tin, coal, copper, and gold. From Antofagasta we go to Valparaiso, Chili, a city of 300,000, wide streets, progressive people, mostly natives, Europeans and Chinese, a strictly modern and up-to-date city. Here is where my running orders expire and I chase over by land to Buenas Ayres, Argentina. This is a modern city of one million people, Europeans and natives; has thirteen different lines of railways running to all parts of South America, the greatest port of entry in the world with one exception. From Buenas Ayres sail north to the West India Islands, Burmuda and Jamaica. These islands are the most beautiful and ideal spots on all earth. They are so situated in the Carribean Sea as to have a uniform climate not varying 5° from 78° the whole year around. The people are American-speaking and are a bundle of kindness itself. From Jamaica I sailed direct to Vera Cruz, Mexico.

There are no good jobs for conductors in South America. The greater part of the railways are English lines, and are run as all English railways are, the via Libre system, and they use their own

subjects mostly because Americans won't stay. They pay from £16 to £19 per month. The living is principally rice, bananas, frijolles and black coffee, and about half the time you are working in an altitude from 11 to 13 thousand feet and the weather very cold. Now, just a word to any Brother contemplating a trip to South America for work: Get the job before you go and be on the pay roll when you step on board the ship. Throw away all your friends in your native land. Don't expect to receive any mail or papers from home. Never write to anybody yourself. Be sure you have

enough money to get back with. Prepare for a two-months trip on water, "including 15 days quarantine." Understand the Spanish language perfectly. Get good and seasick a few days before you start. Now, after this, if you want to go, go ahead.

I've seen the golden sunlight fade, I've watched the moonlight, the most beautiful made;

I've had my stomach turned wrong side out

On the deep blue sea, thrown out, en

route.

on the great plains, deserts, and mountains of the immense country over which these trains traveled, will carry back with them a lasting knowledge of its bigness and the possibilities of its future, albeit, of course, that no single trip can impress one with the almost limitless vastness of that country. The great railroads over which we traveled are reaching out with ceaseless energy for the ever increasing trans-continental traffic and that which extends over and beyond the great ocean at whose shores they deposit and take freight, from the beautiful and hustling cities of Portland, Seattle and Tacoma.

We speak of the beautiful city of Portland with bated, almost reverential awe and breath, and of its hospitality with swelling emotion and thankfulness. Those of us who had never visited Portland before were simply dumb with admiration for the wonderful natural beauty of its situation and the evident coöperation of its citizens to let the works of man "help great nature's plan." The hospitality of its citizens was in keeping with the bigness and evident possibilities of its future.

We predict that those who go hence to view the buildings and see the exhibits with which the Oregonians are to celebrate the stupendous achievements of those rugged pioneers, Lewis and Clark, and the not less rugged Sacajawea, will go back to their homes with a feeling that hospitality inheres in those Portlanders, even as beauty inheres in all their surroundings. The bigness of the mountains and the valleys and the ocean has touched them with the wand of their largeness, and they gather inspiration and courage accordingly. The scene presented from the observatory on Portland Heights, overlooking the city, the Willamette and Columbia Rivers and valleys in the distance, Mt. Hood, Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Adams, forms a picture the exquisite beauty of which will be enshrined in and impressed on the tablets of our memory as long as life lasts. If more beautiful pictures exist on our earth, they are rare indeed, for has not the poet said:

"There's not in this wide world a valley So sweet

As that in whose bosom the bright waters meet."

Evidently he was not gazing upon the meeting of the Willamette and Columbia, for if he had been, surely the mute though poetic appeal from snow-capped Hood would have given him inspiration for a volume. Mt. Hood has been described so many times, and pictures of it taken from so many points of view, that it is useless and perhaps egotistical to attempt anything new, and we will therefore content ourselves with the statement that the view of that majestic peak which we had from the deck of the good boat "Potter" going up the Columbia is the one which will live in our memory-live because, forsooth, the beautiful river, the evergreen mountains and the eternally snow-capped peak, formed an harmonious, and compos

ite picture, the beauty and purity of which will flash on our memory whenever, in the future, the superlative beauty of the scenes of the trip are brought to mind. And we shall remember the rare beauty and wondrous profusion of the flowers and other flora of Portland-the wealth and variety of roses, the meekeyed, large-faced pansies, the prolific and sweet-scented carnations, yea, and others and others whose bigness and quantity partake of the spirit, individuality and extent of the country. And we shall remember the rivers, the lakes, the sound, the cascades, the falls and the Dalles-remember them for the beauty, grandeur and inspiration gathered from them-pictures which will be with us always. And the great Oceanthe Pacific-symbol of eternity, emblem of strength almost infinite, will live in our memory as the grandest sight of all the world, a vision which should enter into the tempestuous struggles of man and bid his soul rest in peace—a feeling that its wondrous unrest and mysterious depths hold secrets from the ken of mortal man which only the infinite future will reveal. It seems as if on the broad bosom of this great ocean, or on its peaceful shores, the troubled spirit of