iven from place to place and finally
shot down in cold blood. In the city where 60 years ago he fell, a
martyr to the cause of free speech, a stately monument--one of the most
imposing in the country--was the other day dedicated to his memory. No
American better deserves a monument. No leader in the Revolution or the
Civil War was a greater hero. In my opinion, the unquestioned courage of
the great Union commander is dwarfed and paled by the simple heroism of
this young preacher-editor, who gave his life to a greater cause than
even the preservation of the Union. Yet for some years after his death,
in many cities of this country, it would have been hazardous for a man
to utter his eulogy.

Here, then, is a marked advance. But we have not yet obtained entire
freedom of speech on live topics. Was it not as late as last year that
we hear of two librarians holding opposite political views, whose
positions were rendered insecure by an unfortunate misadjustment of
longitudes and political opinions? And not many miles from here a score
of good, earnest men were jailed for advocating, disinterestedly, and at
considerable self-sacrifice, a method of taxation that did not meet the
approval of the city authorities. Still we have made great progress
toward a broad tolerance. We not only permit the practice of all
religious forms, but we even allow a man to deny himself the
consolations of religion in any form if he chooses to do so.

In science, at least, there is absolute freedom of thought and
expression. One may publish arguments to prove that the world is five
thousand, or five hundred million years old, and no one will molest or
denounce him; or he may announce a new theory of the universe with our
moon as the stationary centre, and no state or church will
anathematize him or compel him to recant. It is not till he enters the
field of politics, i.e., the discussion of economic and sociological
questions with a view to immediate practical results, that the
advocate of new ideas reaches the danger-point. Here he finds vested
interests--self-styled "vested rights," but as often vested wrongs--on
guard and alert to repel intrusion and resist inquiry. These summon to
their aid the legions of unreasoning conservatism; and the innovator
is made to feel the truth of the saying that there is no pain so keen
as the pain of a new idea--from which, therefore, mankind has always
shrunk, as a child shrinks from the surgeon's knife. We have