IT is well that existence imposes its first duty upon humanity at that period when reason is but a chaos of desires, and before the phenomena of living have become comprehensible to the vision; for, in the whole category of obligations that man claims from man, what is more unreasonable than thanks for a questionable service or gratitude for a deed (involving all the issues of life) that was conceived in lust and consummated in thoughtlessness? For man to respect his fellow-man it is necessary that reason should harmonize with justice; but for every child to revere the parent who bore it there is no requirement possible beyond the most passive obedience.

      The reasons for this reverence from child to parent have never yet attained definite shape or countenance. To a very few the pleasure of being suffices to insure a degree of thankfulness; to a greater number the bond of sympathy is Nature's balm of healing and forgiveness; but over all is the veil of sentimental reverence that shields the parent with its lustrous glow and protects him from realizing "how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child."

      From the precepts of Moses this veil has descended — a fabric curiously woven with the warp of love, and yet so distorted by the woof of selfishness that its outlines, seen by nobler eyes, seem strangely like the cloak that masks egotism and hypocrisy. Yet the anticipation of reverence, although tacit, is unexplainable — few honest men or women being able conscientiously to say by what right they expect or demand such a sentiment. The question of possession suffices for many, but the right of possession becomes then a serious problem.

      The suffering and watchfulness of a loving mother claim a reward for martyrdom instead of duty. The forethought and providence of a devoted father seek their compensation in the adoration of offspring rather than in the approval of mind and conscience. The irresponsible (and naturally the most prolific) father prates of conception as the "divine right of man," and bows his head submissively over his "God-given children;" but the divinity is not so evident to the offspring when they reap in the whirlwind the sins sowed by their progenitor.

      The honoring of parents is accepted without argument only by that class of persons that are without understanding, and those others who, for reasons more selfish than holy, are glad to enforce the commandment to its fullest. To others, more thoughtful and more just in their exactments, the "honor" of a child creates perpetual wonder; and to those able to gage accurately the unworthiness of most parents this enforced regard brings a twinge of pity.

      Reverence and respect are the results of reason and knowledge- the outcome of familiarity with the noble attributes of another. To the mind of a child such deductions are impossible; the undeveloped brain has no consciousness of superiority, and the awakened affections follow only the first impulse of Nature. Whether a parent is worthy of honor is a question for adult reasoning — a problem to be solved by the child's future condition. Length of days weighs but lightly in the scales of justice, and it is doubtful if this vague promise ever strengthened honor.

      That child reverence should not be questioned is a matter of theory, to be decided only by the quality of the results that might follow in the wake of honest experiment. If right be right and wrong be wrong, a similarity of tissues should not delude the judgment; and if virtue should be praised and sin condemned, the mere relation of the family should count as nothing. So long as reverence is bestowed where only regard is merited, the most undeserving mother may bask in the glow of self-complacency; and, white honor remains a staple article in the family, the father may rest at ease upon the throne of content.

      Do women honor themselves when they hamper their own progress by the physical burdens of overproduction? Do men reverence the talents in their own possession when they stunt their development by the narcotic of licentiousness and cramp their own abilities by over-stimulation to exertion? Does either parent, by ignoring the just claims of the unborn, give due homage or gratitude to the marvelous power through which the phenomenon of procreation is possible?

      Through a careful inventory of one's faults and graces, and from an honest accounting of one's health and finances, how many can say, honorably, "I am worthy a child," or "It is certain I can conceive without injustice to my offspring?" What percentage of mankind is fit to be fathers, and how many women have sufficient strength of mind or physical energy to equip their daughters? Men that shrink in horror from the theory of extermination rush headlong into the deed of conception without a passing thought of their own inconsistency. The liberation of the spirit from an exhausted body seems to them a deed of most heinous nature; but the incarceration of a soul in mortal flesh is an act that receives scant consideration.

      What compensation can a man make to a crippled son? What penance can atone for the "gift" of insanity to offspring? Is the birthright of poverty, disease, or ignorance the vehicle through which to generate reverence? It is the most prolific parent who trusts all to chance, or "casts his cares on God," in this most vital undertaking. The thoughtful man considers well his deeds, and a keen recognition of his own responsibility makes him ever more just toward each unborn claimant. But as yet of the thoughtful there is but a small minority — a handful who are worthy or who approximate worthiness.

      That the placid acceptance of homage is responsible for this seems probable when o~e considers the virtue of incentive. The brutal propagator of an unkempt herd has little ambition above his routine of drudgery, and with each increase in his numbers sinks lower and lower into the fatal slough where his children may follow him. Yet such a human animal, in all his hideousness, demands the "reverence" of his child; and the courts of justice, white they protect the victim, encourage and indorse the exactment of the father!

      The mother of the slums, in her uncleanliness and alleged viciousness, and the wealthy woman in her brownstone home, with her petty vanities and ignoble ambitions, are alike the recipients of reverence from children. That this reverence is merely the glamour of sentiment makes it no less grateful or no less complete and wonderful in its achievements. That its power for evil is as patent as for good impairs no vestige of its triumphal glory; and that it protects on the one band what it condemns on the other seems in no wise to detract from the luster of its holiness. When judgment and reason fail, sentiment guards and cherishes; when example and precept are not forthcoming, honor blinds and finds excuses.

      Across a chasm of errors reverence throws a stable bridge, but it is doubtful if the structure leads directly toward improvement. Less affectionate delusion might arouse the sluggard and act as an incentive to the unambitious father. Less unmerited homage and reverence toward the mother might kindle to healthy glow the fires of justice and awaken a desire to be called more worthy.

LURANA W. SHELDON.      

      New York.