The truest and best reform that can be attained is the most radical, and that is, as we have said, to elect the President by a direct vote of the people, and do away with an electoral system that survived its usefulness in the death of George Washington. The next best is to secure the secrecy of the ballot. Anything short of this is vain. When we have so arranged the machine that the bribe-taker cannot make open delivery of the stolen goods, we have driven the bribe-giver to accepting the word of a wretch whose oath would be worthless.

In view of the peril in which we find ourselves, with the very foundations taken from under the tottering political fabric known as the Great Republic, the anxiety manifested by our law-makers lest some citizen may be deprived of his vote in this effort to purify the polls would be ludicrous were it not that the subject is of so serious a nature. The very ground is sliding from under us, and these Solons are concerned as to the shoes we may be deprived of in our effort at escape. Indeed, if to perfect the reform it became necessary not only to deprive a few citizens of the suffrage, but to hang Messrs. Plumb, Ingalls, and Dudley, shocking as the sacrifice would be to us, we should say, like a Roman father, let them hang. Indeed, undying fame hereafter would proclaim that in their deaths they had done their country some service.

VACANT PEWS AND WORRIED PULPITS.

The homes, so called, of our larger cities are in a majority of cases without comfort, and in nearly all instances without refinement. The class upon which we once so prided ourselves, made up of families possessed of a competence, and enabled through a reasonable income from steady work to have about their homes some comfort and a few luxuries, is rapidly disappearing. We have left us two classes only, made up of the very rich and the poor. The merchant, the mechanic, and even the common laborer, who once could boast of a humble home of his own, and enough steady employment to make that home comfortable, is rarely met with. We believe indeed that he exists only in the imagination of Senator Edmunds. Well-authenticated statistics inform us that we have a larger percentage of tenantry to our population than any people on the face of the earth. This not only includes our great commercial, mining, and manufacturing centres, but the rural regions as well. We learn that, throughout the agricultural regions, while the farms lessen in number, the farmers increase.

We know what this means. We recognize at a glance that the growth of our country in national wealth, which is claimed to be amazing, is not a healthy growth. For that is not healthy which gives prosperity to a few and poverty to the masses.

This has been so long and so generally recognized that it has come to be commonplace, and people weary of its reiteration. We indulge in this weariness for the purpose of calling attention to a consequence that is not so familiar.

It is remarked by observant lookers-on from abroad that our laboring classes are thoroughly ignorant of art, and take no pleasure in contemplating works of art, as do the like classes in the towns of Europe. The reason given for this is that we have no specimens in our highways, and few in galleries. The latter are closed against the laboring classes on the only day a laborer can have to visit them, and that is Sunday.

The wrong done our people by this can scarcely be overestimated. A taste for art can generally be cultivated. It is quite impossible to educate a people in science and literature, for this depends on intellectual faculties that our heavenly Father, from a wise purpose to us unknown, has been very sparing in distributing. But almost every man is capable of being taught to admire, if not love, the beautiful in art. What an element in the way of social improvement or progress this cultivated taste is we all recognize, and what happens to a race that neglects it we all know.

Now, it is possible for a people to possess the highest appreciation of, and admiration for, art and yet be semi-barbarous, for the Christian element is necessary to bring about real civilization; but it is quite impossible for a race to be without some cultivation in the way of art and be civilized at all.

It is not strange, to a thoughtful observer, to note that as a nation we are on the down-grade. Such an observer from abroad cannot cross Broadway, for example, without learning that life and limb are in peril from a community that has more law and less order than any people the world over. He is prepared to learn then that our galleries of art—such as exist—are closed against the poor, and he is ready to receive without wonder the further fact that our churches also are closed against the poor.