IF THIS biography is a shade partial the fact is surely not surprising, for Miss Blackwell is not only Lucy Stone’s daughter but also a firm believer in all of the reforms that she advocated, excluding, I believe, Prohibition. Indeed, it would be natural for any biographer who knew Lucy Stone [pictured] to be her advocate, for despite the touch of acid that always goes with the passion to serve, she must have been a very piquant and charming woman, and so it is no wonder that the handsome Henry B. Blackwell fell violently in love with her, and pursued her all over the nation with amatory epistles in the best Victorian manner, and then married her triumphantly and spent the next thirty-eight years squiring her about, and admiring her vastly, and unearthing new evils for her to put down. Henry was himself a reformer of no mean technique, but his main business in life was acting as herald and manager for his wife. When, in his old age, she left him a widower, “he had,” as his daughter naively puts it, “more leisure than in former years.” In her heyday he must have been busy indeed, for she had a hand in every reform that engaged the country between 1835 and 1890, and of most of them she was a leader, always on the go. She began her melodramatic tours in stage-coaches and canal boats, and if she had lived a few years longer she would have ended them in automobiles and airships.

When she first set up her booth reform was a dismal business. The gentlemen who pursued it all arrayed themselves in the contemporary garb of ministers of the Gospel, with white neckclothes, plug hats and long-tailed coats. Two-thirds of them shaved their upper lips and wore their beards in the manner of Dunkard elders. They avoided alcohol save to counteract snake bites and the night air, and pronounced their anathema upon smoking, though some of them stealthily chewed. As for the ladies of the movement, they wore black bombazine over crinolines, and spoke of themselves, very delicately, as females. Their virtue was of a granitic, almost a basaltic character. Traveling alone, as they sometimes had to do to save the world, they wrapped themselves in ten or fifteen petticoats, and offered silent prayers to God. When one of them, united in holy marriage to one of the chin-bearded brethren, honored him with offspring, the event became a national indecorum; just how it was achieved remains unknown, indeed, to this day. Life in that age was real and earnest, and sensuous indulgence was not its goal. The ideal was a world devoted exclusively to moral indignation.

Upon such scenes the saucy Lucy Stone burst with paralyzing effect. She was a pink-cheeked little country girl with a turned-up nose, and it is impossible to believe, as her daughter heroically hints, that she was not pretty. A daguerreotype of the 40’s gives the lie to that judgment. It shows a young woman who was pretty indeed– not in the florid, Hollywoodian fashion of today, but in the sedater but just as dangerous manner of those times. Beaux began to lurk about the home farm at West Brookfield, Mass., before she was well into her teens, and by the time she set off for Oberlin to wolf the whole corpus of human wisdom she was the belle of the countryside. The Oberlin professors, though all of them were dour reformers, at once discovered another charm: Lucy had a low-pitched and very agreeable voice. So they made an orator of her, and presently she was on the stump, whooping for Abolition and woman’s rights. No greater knock-out, as the vaudevillians used to say, has ever been recorded in the annals of the uplift. Mobs that fell upon the male reformers with horrible yells, pulling off their coattails and uprooting their chinners, received lovely Lucy with loud huzzahs, and listened to her politely to the end. Often she would make a speech against slavery, and then launch straightway into another for temperance, female emancipation, or some other such fantastic novelty of the day. But no matter what she denounced or advocated, the gallery was with her, and when she finished one harangue it was always ready for another.

Miss Blackwell tells her story in a clear and interesting manner, and incidentally throws some new light upon the history of the woman’s suffrage movement in the United States. As everyone knows, it split into two halves in 1869 and for more than a generation thereafter it was represented by two distinct national associations and published two national organs. The schism was due in part to Susan B. Anthony’s weakness for such clownish allies as Victoria C. Woodhull and Citizen George Francis Train, and in part to Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s tolerance of the extremer sort of radicals, including even Stephen Pearl Andrews, who believed that marriage ought to be abolished, and that a few superior men in every community should be told off to become the fathers of all its children. Such doctrines greatly outraged Lucy Stone, who, despite her refusal to use her husband’s name and her three years’ experiment with bloomers, remained a high-toned Christian woman at heart, and she was also opposed to the monkey-shines of Train and La Woodhull. So the movement divided, and for years the suffragettes belabored one another almost as fiercely as they belabored the antis. But all the while Jahveh Himself was watching over them, and they triumphed everywhere in the end, and brought in the millennium that we now enjoy. Lucy herself lived to see it, though most of her old allies, by that time, were dead. She reigned in her last years as the mother superior and cherished museum piece of all the suffragettes, and was greatly honored and respected.

It is marvellous to observe the success of all the reforms that she advocated. Slavery has been abolished in the South, and the meanest Afroamerican in Arkansas or South Carolina now basks in the sunlight of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments, to say nothing of the Bill of Rights. In his choice between working hard and saying nothing or pressing his views and getting lynched he is as free as the King of England. Even the whites down there are now liberated: a citizen of Jackson, Miss., may choose freely between believing in Genesis and having his house burned down, and the lowest linthead in a Georgia cotton-mill may quit whenever he pleases, and starve at his will. Meanwhile, Prohibition is everywhere in force, North, East, South and West, and all the evils of rum have been obliterated. So also, international peace has come into effect, and the nations no longer suspect one another and prepare for battle. Finally, the human female has been emancipated and her vote has purged our politics of evil; nay, she has promoted herself from voter to stateswoman, and in the person of such idealistic sisters as Ma Ferguson and Ma McCormick she has shown the male some varieties of Service that he never thought of. All these great reforms Lucy Stone advocated in her day, tramping up and down the highways of the land. Other females derided her, but she hoped on. Where is her monument, reaching upward to the stars? For one, I believe that it is too long delayed.

— The American Mercury magazine, December 1930

translated by H.L. Mencken

THIS BOOK BELONGS to the most rare of men. Perhaps not one of them is yet alive. It is possible that they may be among those who understand my “Zarathustra”: how could I confound myself with those who are now sprouting ears? – First the day after tomorrow must come for me. Some men are born posthumously.

The conditions under which anyone understands me, and necessarily understands me – I know them only too well. Even to endure my seriousness, my passion, he must carry intellectual integrity to the verge of hardness. He must be accustomed to living on mountain tops – and to looking upon the wretched gabble of politics and nationalism as beneath him. He must have become indifferent; he must never ask of the truth whether it brings profit to him or a fatality to him… He must have an inclination, born of strength, for questions that no one has the courage for; the courage for the forbidden; predestination for the labyrinth. The experience of seven solitudes. New ears for new music. New eyes for what is most distant. A new conscience for truths that have hitherto remained unheard. And the will to economize in the grand manner – to hold together his strength, his enthusiasm… Reverence for self; love of self; absolute freedom of self….

Very well, then! Of that sort only are my readers, my true readers, my readers foreordained: of what account are the rest? – The rest are merely humanity. – One must make one’s self superior to humanity, in power, in loftiness of soul, – in contempt.

FRIEDRICH W. NIETZSCHE.

(from the Preface)

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reviewed by David Chambers

FROM AUGUST 3, 1948, until today, America has had to wait to learn more about the head of Soviet espionage in Washington during the 1930s.

On that day, Whittaker Chambers (my grandfather) told the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) under subpoena:

The actual head of the group–well, the elected head of the group–was either [Nathan] Witt at one time or [John] Abt, and the organizer of the group had been Harold Ware. The head of the whole business was J. Peters.

Only a few Americans then knew the name “J. Peters”–among half a dozen or more pseudonyms. By that time, however, both the FBI and the INS had taken active interest in his hidden career and that of an alter ego, “Alexander Stevens.” Like most good spies, Peters hid in plain sight. In fact, his definitive Communist Party’s Manual on Organisation (1935) was available in larger cities, predating William H. Whyte’s best-selling The Organization Man by 20 years.

At last, a sleuth has picked up the cold trail. Dr. Thomas Sakmyster is a professor emeritus of history at the University of Cincinnati. His expertise lies in Early 20th Century Hungarian affairs. His revelations in Red Conspirator are riveting.

“J. Peters” was born Sándor Goldberger, a secular Jew in an Austro-Hungarian border town in 1894. Trained as a lawyer, he entered a long career as a Communist Party functionary. He immigrated to the United States in 1924. Peters was a decidedly efficient and shrewd party bureaucrat and passionate in his belief of Communism. He rose quickly to leadership back in his homeland district, and again in the States to the party’s national committee. Had Peters applied himself to capitalism instead of Communism, he might have headed a very different business. Chances are we would speak of him today among prominent Hungarian-Americans entrepreneurs like George Soros, Calvin Klein, Estée Lauder, and John Hertz.

Instead, in 1931 Peter’s skills in party organization led him to Communism’s meccas, Moscow and Berlin. He trained as “Org Praticant”–and spy. In Moscow, he came to know many people who would figure in Federal investigations in the 1940s and 1950s, like Gerhard Eisler (first husband of Hedde Massing) and Jacob Golos (handler of Elizabeth Bentley). In Berlin, he became an expert in passport forgery.

Back in the US in 1932, Peters continued to work on organization practices during the 1930s. In this period he wrote and published his Manual. He also began to establish his “illegal apparatus.” He concentrated on “special mail” (secure communications) via “mail drops.” The network extended around the country, seeking to minimize detection by American government authorities. He also began to establish his “secret apparatus.” He concentrated on infiltrating the US Federal government. This task fell to him in part due to earlier association with Max Bedacht, a previous underground go-between. Bedacht seconded Whittaker Chambers to the underground, then Peters succeeded Bedacht. Chambers served Peters, first in mail drop activities, then in the Ware Group. Thus, Chambers found himself in 1948 under subpoena before HUAC, talking about Peters.

Most tantalizing in Red Conspirator is the thwarting of one Federal agency by another. In the 1940s, HUAC and the FBI were working to flush out Peters’s role in the Soviet underground. Meantime, the INS was trying to deport him. (Peters chose to leave of his own free will prior to deportation.) Rounding out the book are scrapbook-like anecdotes about Peters in Hungary, from his return in 1949 to his death four decades later.

In 1983, Peters began to write a memoir for the Hungarian party’s secret files. Since the fall of the Soviet empire, it has become available to the public–for those who know of it. The memoir fills in many gaps in Peters’ life. It also helps Dr. Sakmyster weigh what to accept, interpret, and reject in Peters’ own self-assessment.

Red Conspirator represents a major contribution to scholarship in 20th Century American and International Communism. The approach and tone are scholarly. The findings are electrifying. Perhaps the most dramatic is the author’s conclusion: J. Peters operated his own infiltration networks, namely the Ware Group and its successive apparatuses. He cooperated with and supported the KGB (in those years, the OGPU and then NKVD) and GRU (Soviet military intelligence). However, as a model organization man, he prepared for the future and formed his own secret apparatus as well. This was “the whole business” that he headed, “conducted by largely on his own initiative,” Sakmyster concludes. “No Soviet agent ever served directly as his handler.”

THE WORKS of American Mercury contributor and editor Henry Hazlitt (he was H.L. Mencken’s chosen successor) are brilliant gems of economic insight which, if they were only more well known, could change the downward spiral of the West’s economic fortunes.

Did you know, for example, that inflation is not a rise in prices?

Did you know that “government economic stimulus” is in the fact the opposite of what its name implies?

Hazlitt was a man of logic, reason, and science who could also write with wit and style. He was a gentleman of the old school whom we’re proud to have had on the Mercury masthead. Hazlitt had his lapses. He favored a gold standard as a form of discipline, or enforced honesty, upon banks and governments, as he should have. But he failed to address the ways in which bankers can get around that discipline through fractional reserve banking.

His greatest contribution was to dispel the hoary shibboleths of economics that are, sadly, still taught in the schools and parroted by media talking heads. When Henry Hazlitt clears the cobwebs from your mind, you’ll probably say “Wow!” I did.

Two of his most important books have recently been republished in new editions. According to the Henry Hazlitt Web site:

The Inflation Crisis and How to Resolve It

Henry Hazlitt was not mainly a theoretician. He was a financial journalist, commentator, and interpreter of current events. In this sense, he was one of a kind: a learned economist with both feet in the real world of politics, financial markets, and the economics of everyday life.

The Inflation Crisis and How to Resolve It , newly in print in hardcover at a low price, is his masterpiece on money. The book reappears just in time: we are in the midst of an inflation crisis even if the effects are not yet fully felt.

By inflation, he didn’t mean rising prices. He meant the tendency of government and the central bank to print money in pursuit of prosperity. In this sense, no book could be more directly related to our own times, as Bernanke and Company use and abuse the power of the Fed as never before.

He begins with an overview of what inflation is and covers the abysmal record of government money management. He clearly explains the cause and effect: first comes the printing and then come the business cycles and price increases. He explains that the only real cure for all of the effects is to treat the cause: end the government’s power to print. For this reason, Hazlitt favors a gold standard.

From a reader point of view, Hazlitt’s book is pure pleasure. As Mencken said of him, he was the only economist of his generation who could really write. He is clear as a bell, and why? Because he had a passion for explaining economics to every living person. He did not think that economics should be left to the academy or to investment firms.

This book came out in 1978 and it’s been thirty years out of print. It is one that the Mises Institute wanted to have in print for many years, and it is an event to celebrate that it is finally here, in a beautiful edition at a rock-bottom price.

Economics in One Lesson

This is a new edition of the classic book that has taught many millions sound economic thinking. It is a hardbound volume, and now available for anyone who needs to understand what economics implies for the society, government, and civilization.

Hazlitt wrote this book following his stint at the New York Times as an editorialist. His hope was to reduce the whole teaching of economics to a few principles and explain them in ways that people would never forget. It worked. He relied on some stories by Bastiat and his own impeccable capacity for logical thinking and crystal-clear prose.

This is the book that made the idea of the “broken window fallacy” so famous.

The new edition is beautiful, it is hardcover, and it is newly typeset for modern readers. It has a full index. It includes a wonderful foreword by Walter Block.

This is the book to send to reporters, politicians, pastors, political activists, teachers, or anyone else who needs to know.

Professor Block explains that it was this book that turned him on to economics as a science. He believes that it is probably the most important economics book ever written in the sense that it offers the greatest hope to educating everyone about the meaning of the science.

Written for the non-academic, it has served as the major antidote to fallacies in the popular press, and has appeared in dozens of languages and printings. It’s still the quickest way to learn how to think like an economist. And this is why it has been used in the best classrooms more than sixty years. The new edition dispenses with the additions made by later editors, which only date the book, and reverts to Hazlitt’s own first edition.

Henry Hazlitt Web site