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Emancipation and History The Return of Social Theory 1St Edition Jose Mauricio Domingues Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
Emancipation and History The Return of Social Theory 1St Edition Jose Mauricio Domingues Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
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Emancipation and History
Studies in Critical
Social Sciences
Series Editor
Editorial Board
VOLUME 114
By
LEIDEN | BOSTON
Cover illustration: by María Elena Rodríguez
Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface.
issn 1573-4234
isbn 978-90-04-34875-2 (hardback)
isbn 978-90-04-35355-8 (e-book)
References 163
Index 180
List of Tables
The social sciences have always had a fundamental role in the discussions
about social emancipation, ever since they crossed paths in the middle of the
nineteenth century. Social theory was crucial in this, trying to peer into the
future through the traces it left on the present, running ahead of its own time.
This is what happened in the past with Marx’s theory, Marxisms, other social-
ist currents, and continues today with those few other strands, either within
or without Marxism, that try to craft a theory with broader reach. Analytical
concepts of wide scope emerge as demands of theory itself. But in reality, this
commitment to large processes and how to deal with them intellectually has
been considerably lost.
There are good reasons for this, since the certainties that Marxism exces-
sively affirmed and promoted were shown to be questionable and, in some
cases, downright wrong. Historical teleologies are no longer convincing. How-
ever, this should not have led us to give up on efforts to read in the present
those possibly pre-figurative traits of the future, at least in the sense that they
announce possibilities, whose realization implies no necessity, while other
possibilities and trends, often more powerful than those that might lead to
emancipation, are also at work. It is a matter of sorting out among trends those
that could be propelled in the emancipatory direction they may harbor. This
would allow for a broader and more productive way of linking what will here
be called trend-concepts with social creativity and historical contingency.
Nowadays, the topic of contingency pervades sociology. Creativity is, as
usual, rhetorically evoked while issues about directionality have been all but
lost. Each piece collected in this book is part and parcel of a larger endeavor
to promote this re-articulation, in order to, within the context of the advanced
modernity we live in, resume the discussion of social emancipation without
remaining attached to no longer workable theoretical schemes or giving in to
empiricism and the short-run. The political consequences of remaining locked
into schemes bereft of adequate answers and of accepting the accommodation
with empiricism are, after all, taticism – short-term political moves –, since a
long-term strategy must be guided by a larger perspective of where we want
to get to and how to get there. Doubtlessly, it is not a matter of demanding
new certainties and exclusive allegiances, but, rather, we should be bringing
up the question of large processes, providing the basis from which to reckon
with politics.
The junction of emancipation and history, in particular through the re-
turn of social theory, points precisely in this direction: can we identify the
noteworthy trends in the contemporary world whose power can be harnessed
Introduction ix
The goal of this text is to evaluate the directions of critical theory today and its
relations in particular with sociology, with concrete reference to the contem-
porary world. It is not a matter of restricting critical theory to the tradition of
the so-called Frankfurt School and its offspring, nor circumscribe it to what
has been named “Western Marxism.” I would rather focus on critical theory
in a more ecumenical way, supposing that other authors and currents are in-
cluded in it more broadly, sharing, however, some common presuppositions.
This takes us to a discussion about some trends that could contribute in the di-
rection of a renewal of this theoretical field. Before doing so, nevertheless, it is
necessary to define the extent to which and how a theoretical approach can be
brought within the critical tradition, without aiming at a systematic discussion
of all currents that could at present be seen as part of this intellectual field. Let
me concentrate on some fundamental strands of the contemporary debate.
Ambivalence in relation to the evolution of modernity, in its multidimensional
aspects, which include capitalism, without being restricted to it, characterizes
much of European social theory since at least the mid-eighteenth century un-
til, especially, the last decades of the twentieth century. Freedom and domina-
tion loom large in several of such analyses as the poles in which modernity is
substantiated and frustrated, since its promises are actualized in a partial and
unilateral way by means of institutions that to some extent embody the values
of the modern imaginary, but simultaneously establish patterns of social rela-
tions rooted in new forms of domination (Domingues 2006, Chaps. 1–2). Some,
as Weber, take critique very far. This may not, however, really amount to what
I want to define ecumenically as critical theory. Weber did not go beyond res-
ignation as to a highly-bureaucratized society, deprived of freedom, in which
the values of liberalism could no longer, he believed, be realized (Cohn 1978).
* Originally published in Revista de Sociologia & Antropologia, vol. 1 (2011); and, with some
changes, in Breno Bringel and José Maurício Domingues (eds), Global Modernity and Social
Contestation (London and Delhi: Sage, 2015).
ower and is at liberty to choose his or her own path in life, individually and
p
collectively, beyond systems of domination – or that imply control – and the
false liberal dichotomy of negative and positive freedom. This has been the
substantive historical core of critical theory since Marx, through Adorno, to
Habermas (Domingues 2006, Chaps. 1–2).
That said, what about the whereabouts of critical theory in a stricter sense?
Twenty years ago, when democracy started to decay in the western world, after
decades and even centuries of difficult and conflictive strengthening, its out-
standing approaches supported the idea that the expansion of “civil society”
or the “public sphere” – and procedural and deliberative democracy – would
occupy center-stage in emancipatory politics (Cohen and Arato 1992; Haber-
mas 1992). No capitalism, no neoliberalism, no de-democratizing changes of
the state. In this respect, although there were already problems in Habermas’
(1981) main work, in particular, due to his adoption of systems theory and a
tacit affiliation to neoclassical economic theory, his ulterior discussion of de-
mocracy moved to fill a gap, albeit in an arguable way, that was highly prob-
lematic for critical theory. Nevertheless, it also meant a retreat from a broader
conceptual standpoint. His last relevant intervention in this debate took on
important discussions about the encroachment of eugenic neoliberalism upon
life politics (with reference to biotechnology) (Habermas 2001a, 2001b); and,
more recently, it evinces perhaps the beginning of the acknowledgment of the
possibility of de-democratizing processes, exemplified concretely by the pres-
ent fate of Europe (Habermas 2011). Honneth, after insisting on the centrality
of recognition politics – which can offer an interesting middle-range theory,
but should not be blown out of proportion – seems to have concluded, in his
contribution with Martin Hartmann, that critique lost its immanent transcen-
dent core. This would be due to the capacity of contemporary capitalism to
take up the demands of the 1968 generation, with its aesthetic and social cri-
tique, at most remaining, as an element of tension, the “paradoxes” generated
by the inevitably incomplete and somewhat illusory realization of such values
(Honneth 2010), although, in what is his main opus thus far, freedom, as the
general principle of modern ethical life, is re- affirmed (without however an
at least more explicit recognition of its egalitarian thrust, as a value, in this
civilization), and as if it had been basically institutionalized (Honneth 2011).
Global conceptions of justice have also recently drawn the attention of authors
within this tradition, in relation, however, to individuals, not countries or col-
lectivities, nor in what concerns the dynamic of capitalism or democracy at
the national and global levels (cf. Fraser 2009).
In order to weave part of his recent arguments, Honneth draws upon the
work of Boltanski and Chiapello (1999), whose diagnosis of modernity holds
great interest, when they deal with what they consider the “new spirit of
4 chapter 1
1 Providing we keep equal freedom as an orienting value, hence do not lose sight of the future
as transcending the limitations of the present, and universalist standpoints, Santos’ (2002)
demand that we concentrate on the present and search for alternatives which emerge across
the planet also can help reaffirm a critical view, although he seems to discard too easily the
propelling force of modernity as a global and partly frustrated emancipatory telos, which still
holds as a horizon, problems to be discussed below notwithstanding.
6 chapter 1
philosophical, has much to offer in this regard, keeping, in any case, the clash
between modern values and institutions at its core. There are obviously other
authors, as well as a legion of themes, such as patriarchy and sexism, racism
and the destruction of the environment, which have their own critical l ineages.
I do not aim at dealing with them all here, much less to exhaust the multiple
and ever more specific themes that a social life in exponential complexifica-
tion throws up. It matters here only to outline what would be the fundamental
axes of a critical diagnosis of the present, pointing to emancipatory forces at
this historical stage, a crucial theme for the very legitimacy of critical theory, as
well as throwing light on research alleys that seem relevant in this connection.
Contemporary Modernity
In the last three or four decades, there has been a radical change in the posi-
tion of countries across the globe. Capitalism has changed its patterns of ac-
cumulation and regulation, as well as of consumption; that is, it has deeply
altered its “mode of development,” to draw upon French regulation school.
Neoliberalism is an expression of that, as much as the changes in the form
of organizing production and consumption in what has been conventionally
known as “post-Fordism.” A globalization of such processes came about in all
countries of the world, in a “uneven and combined” manner, along with its
fragmentation: through just in time and lean production, through outsourcing
and networks between firms, by the pluralization and segmentation of con-
sumption markets, as well as by a further concentration and centralization of
capital, and by an increased polarization between social classes, or between
poor and rich, from a phenomenological standpoint. Social liberalism has also
slowly gained strength, with sectorialized and targeted policies (especially for
the poor). This has marked, contingently, let me stress, the passage from the
second phase of modernity – organized to a large extent by the state – to the
third one, of greater social complexity, in which the state draws back to other
governmentality tasks, leaving the economy, now much more globalized, to be
increasingly regulated by the market, with a predominance of finance capital
over it in the framework of so-called “American empire” (Boyer 1986; Harvey
1990, 2009; Piketty 2013; Domingues 2008, 2012, 2015, Chap. 2).
There was, nevertheless, the expectation that democracy would flourish – or
there was at least a normative perspective about the democratic question. The
hope of the aforementioned dominant sectors within critical theory stemmed
from that. This did not happen overall. Instead, the democratic elements of
those political systems have shrunk – in relation to the thrust of citizens in the
Vicissitudes and Possibilities of Critical Theory Today 7
behavior of state incumbents, as well as in what concerns the space for partici-
pation and their protection, when they do participate (Tilly 2004, 7–30; 2007).
It could be suggested that the problem is localized in the countries of the old
“Third World” and in those which lived under “real socialism,” China, Cuba or
Russia. However, this is patently false: democracy is restricted and retreats ex-
actly in those countries in which it originally emerged in the West, in Europe
and the United States. Participation, respect to the electoral mandate conferred
by the population, the articulation with the organized forces of society, respect
for human and other rights, freedom of press, tolerance in relation to distinct
ethnic and religious groups, over all this hangs a question mark produced by
explicit electoral fraud, an accentuation of the repressive side of the state, the
indifference to the mandate received by parties and “leaders” to carry out the
policies defined in their campaigns, the official use of torture and kidnapping,
the growth of secrecy and of secret and surveillance services, official and open
racism, the instrumental and selective use of justice, the growing strength and
independence of executives vis-à-vis parliaments (and within these, of central
banks), frontal attacks against the press if it is critical of the establishment,
whereas the mass communication means become ever more monopolistic and
connected to global neoliberalism (notwithstanding the growth of alternative
media). Unfortunately, very little has been, critically or not, theorized in this
regard (for some aspects of this, see American Political Science Association
2004; Crouch 2004; Sassen, 2006; Pierson and Skocpol 2007; Streeck 2011, 2013).2
To a certain extent, the formal continuity of liberal democratic systems fore-
closes discussion of the theme. It is obvious that we should not forget either
that what could called the de-exceptionalization of the “state of exception,”
which marks the evolution of liberal political systems since their own emer-
gence in the nineteenth century and today (Agamben 2003), has reached its
pinnacle, underpinning the strengthening of executives to the detriment of
popular sovereignty and the parliament.
In this respect, although facing difficulties and shortcomings, Latin America
is the only region in the world that has decisively moved forward recently, con-
trary to most other global regions, toward building and deepening democracy,
developing what I have called a “molecular democratic revolution.” It is true
that a “transformist” project has had great sway over Latin American societ-
ies, in particular with neoliberalism in the 1990s and that, economically, the
2 Curiously and strangely, in his book about democracy, Tilly (2007) does not in any moment
refers to twentieth century United States and only rarely and obliquely does so as to Europe,
often supporting, despite the advances his work represents, a formalist position once the
liberal-democratic institutions are established.
8 chapter 1
Renewing Critique
Introduction
Modernity has time and again been reinstated as a field of debate. This is espe-
cially true in sociology, which emerged as a discipline that tried, from different
perspectives, to theorize it. It has become clearly global as the focus of analysis
has moved from its “cages” in the nation-state more directly to the world level,
although this has happened indeed through mechanisms that are connected
to states and control of borders. Post-colonialism has been added, in particular
in the humanities, to the interpretation of modernity, but has not been able to
influence sociology very deeply.1 More generally, the demise of different forms
of modernization theory and Marxism as an overall developmental narrative,
despite a seeming comeback in the wake of the debacle of “real socialism” at
the beginning of the 1990s, has basically left contingency as a way of thinking
about modernity. This was true even of approaches that emerged with the so-
called “syntheses” of the 1970s–1980s, which, in the case of Giddens and neo-
functionalists in general sociological theory, as well as in much of renewed
historical sociology, as in Mann’s and Gellner’s case (as well as Giddens’ too),
had already incorporated contingency in their theoretical underpinnings. The
rejection of evolutionary theory and the recovery of history were central to
their approaches. The exceptions to this were the theories of Habermas and
Luhmann. While the former has indeed reached an impasse, the latter’s con-
ceptual framework combined a unilinear view of modernization with a stress
* Originally published in Social Science Information, vol. 53 (2014), this article was developed
within the framework of a research stay as part of the Tramod Project, University of Barce-
lona, c oordinated by Peter Wagner. I would like to thank both him and Kathya Araújo for
their comments on a previous version of the manuscript.
1 Efforts have been sometimes made to show how post-colonial thinking could be applied to
sociology, most recently by Go (2012). But this is hardly ever achieved, other than using it to
rethink identity and discourse as such; sociological concepts are barely touched directly by
such strategies, while sociology has only slowly opened itself to the study of colonial situa-
tions and global power relations (although Marxism and world-system theories never lost
sight of such issues).
2 See Domingues (2000a, Chap. 4) for a detailed analysis of these debates and different schools.
16 chapter 2
In this light, the present article reviews some of the main concepts and
strategies of sociological theory vis-à-vis the theory of modernity. It does not,
however, recapitulate all possible approaches, a task that has already been
carried out in the innumerable overviews of the topic, often in the form of
textbooks, which are widely available. I merely want to bring out some central
trends and concepts according to the different methodological strategies and
levels we can call upon and focus on long-term modernizing trends. This has
been a much rarer endeavor.
The first section of the article concentrates on the different possibilities of
theoretical interpretation we have at our disposal. The first of these is framed
by the description of social processes and aspects of modern social life at dif-
ferent stages, although here an initial demand, sometimes sub-repetitious,
sometimes more systematic, for conceptual sketches of developmental trends
in modernity can be spotted. This includes exercises in comparative historical
sociology. As we see later on, these may or may not try to bring out more general
trends in modernization processes, stressing them sometimes, being designed
to unearth them or looking for answers to more specific questions. The second
strategy is placed at a more general theoretical level. This sort of concept can
be more static or more oriented to defining developmental tendencies with-
in modernity, which as such characterize it. Trend-concepts can be included
here. Finally, two even more general conceptual strategies can be defined. The
first one deals with concepts, or systems of concepts, that pertain to all social
formations. A second one relates to general patterns of h istorical development,
whether or not we attribute evolutionary characteristics to them.
The second part of the article moves to deepen our understanding of the
strategy of description and analytical construction of trend-concepts, which
used to be key elements of the theories of modernity. After establishing the
main components, this section tries to raise the question of whether such con-
cepts may be defensible in light of both theoretical and empirical advances
achieved in the most recent decades. The theory of collective subjectivity is
mobilized to help with this task in order to allow us to go beyond structural
explanation without collapsing it into interpretations exclusively based on
individual agency, especially with respect to historical developments, which
are moreover often long run. This is accomplished by revisiting the concept of
secularization. A brief overview of problems and challenges, as well as discus-
sion of some further specific theoretical problems, closes the article.
The goal is to inquire into the possibilities for reconstructing sociological
theory, taking into account the criticisms of its master frames in the 20th cen-
tury, but to some extent summing up the main conceptual elements which
allowed for a more general understanding of contemporary social life. The aim
Global Modernity 17
Levels of Analysis
In this section I set out to define what would be the usual levels of analysis
in the social sciences, especially in sociology, although most authors rarely
make this explicit (often they do not even have this idea themselves). This is
necessarily a reconstructive approximation in terms of actual methodological
approaches, insofar as in practice these levels usually appear entangled and
in an a-systematic manner. Defining them, though, will help us understand
better both what we are doing and what are the tasks of a renewed theory
of modernity. Such a division is in some measure merely analytical, since, in
many cases, elements of these distinct strategies are found elsewhere, and
insofar as the identification of “facts” and descriptions always – but only to
some extent and often in an unspecified way, close to common sense – rely on
some theoretical background. This was correctly identified by Parsons (1937,
16ff, 28ff) but was understood by him in an almost normative perspective,
which claims an inevitable and positive role for theory, with “description,” on
the other hand, bereft of a proper definition (merely supposedly reproducing
what Newtonian p hysics did).3 “Residual categories,” i.e. concepts that appear
to deal with unavoidable empirical issues, without proper elaboration, usually
turn up, he argued also, even when conceptual frameworks are systematically
pursued. In other words, analytical concepts (of both the middle range and
at a very general level, as we see below) are usually present in descriptions,
the empirical, concretely-oriented definition of processes and situations, but
this does not mean that they are theoretically constructed: this is a task of sci-
ence, of sociological theory and related disciplines, whereby we move beyond
common sense and even beyond several sorts of obstacles to a deeper knowl-
edge of social life.
3 In literary theory, where in fact we can probably find a more productive approach for a socio-
scientific understanding of the term, description, as a mode of discourse, has usually been
opposed to narrative, in that it is detailed and involves no action. But this is most likely an
erroneous polarization, since they are in practice largely entwined. See Ronen (1997), for a
basic discussion which I do not pursue here. That entwinement is usually found in sociology,
at least as moments in the study of social phenomena, except in radical structuralist ap-
proaches to social life.
18 chapter 2
Descriptions
The first level of analysis would therefore be straightforwardly descriptive,
often within an encompassing narrative (thereby combining identification
of the properties of concrete social objects with the movement that involves
them, whether self-produced or externally driven). Aiming at the character-
ization and particularization of specific social situations, such descriptions
imply an interpretation of social tendencies, institutions, practices, hermeneu-
tic frameworks, looked at from an empirical standpoint – although this can
be carried out within a broader or narrower (or even reductive) perspective.
In other words, they rely on interpretations that entail a selection of relevant
information and social processes – and may be more “positivist” (empiricist)
or theoretically-oriented, hermeneutically flavored or especially quantitative.
They are usually infused with a larger or smaller number of systematic analyti-
cal concepts, with varying levels of generality, often alongside a large number
of common-sense or at least unspecified descriptive concepts.
Take for instance Harvey’s (1990) discussion of the so-called regime of “flex-
ible accumulation,” which is supposed to have succeeded Fordism in the late
1980s, especially in the United States. Postmodernism as a concept geared to
the understanding of the slow demise of Western modernity and its sense
of ethics and future, in Bell’s (1978) or Jameson’s (1991) case, respectively, is
another example. These are descriptive sociological accounts which depict a
given state of affairs, as well as to some extent conveying also a sense of history
and development, almost inevitable in sociological discussions, with many
implicit presuppositions, including some related to historical developmental
tendencies. In all these instances, a specific theoretical background is pres-
ent and more or less specific concepts are introduced. These are capitalism
(its expansion) and space-time compression, Fordism and post-Fordism, in
Harvey’s case, which imply a more general Marxist theoretical scheme, with
explicit, respectively, Weberian and Marxist resonances in Bell’s and Jameson’s
cases. Beck’s (1986) periodization, in which the second of the two modernities
he defines is said to be “reflexive,” emphasizes the trends toward a global risk
society wherein individualization is far-reaching, while Wagner (1994) identi-
fies three phases of modernity with a more contingent sort of development.
The latter’s specific periods are grasped, however, through very general catego-
ries, such as, among others, liberty and discipline, with explanations articu-
lated with a more concretely-oriented scope. In other cases this is very limited,
and analytical concepts appear with less intensity and play a minor role. Much
of what Mann (2013, 5) says about “globalization” applies very often to specific
or general discussions of modernity, since most authors in both cases tend to
“describe rather than explain” such phenomena, a charge that, moreover, can
Global Modernity 19
possibly be levelled against Mann himself. There are certainly other, more sys-
tematic analytical efforts which evade this fate, such as Sassen’s (2007) “scalar”
global sociology, including its identification of trends toward the denational-
ization of the nation-state.
The same sort of issue turns up in historical sociology. Take for instance
Weber’s (1904b) discussion of the Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism.
While dealing specifically with a “historical individuality” (the ideal-type – see
below – of capitalism), his general discussion was framed within a broader
comparative picture, including what he considered to be the other main world
religions, implying a large number of general categories (such as “in-worldly
asceticism”). Other authors stopped at lower levels of generality. This is the
case of Moore’s (1967) and Bendix’s (1978, 1964) passages to modernity, with
their agents and alliances, authoritarian state structures and citizenship; Tilly’s
(1992) formation of modern states through the workings of “capital” and “co-
ercion”; and Wallerstein’s (1974, 1980, 1989) account of capitalism and the state
in the early modern age, and its unfolding. If Weber looked for general ten-
dencies (i.e. “rationalization”) and sought explanations for them, others have
pursued more limited descriptions of processes of modernization and also
more restricted explanations for them. In any case, “concomitant variations,”
to use Durkheim’s (1897) language, were a key methodological instrument
in all these cases, whether explicitly or not, comparisons spanning centuries
and regions in some cases, remaining at a more circumscribed level in others.
All of the above examples are related to very sophisticated theory-conscious
authors. As observed in relation to formerly presented cases, much less subtle
and conceptually-oriented discussions can be found elsewhere, despite the
wealth of empirical information some studies are able to provide.
A Trend-concept: Secularization
We find, thus, that most of what has been written about modernity is by
and large descriptive, although this includes a variable number of analytical
concepts and explanatory principles, sometimes even underlying evolution-
ary assumptions and the identification of developmental tendencies. Trend-
concepts have been largely absent lately, bar perhaps the expansive force of
capitalism in Marxist theories and “rationalization” in Frankfurtian critical
theory, while most other such perspectives have been discredited to such an
extent that basically they have been simply abandoned without further debate
(see Knöbl, 2001, for a far-reaching discussion of these issues, especially regard-
ing the concept of “differentiation”). To some extent an exception has been
secularization theory, in relation to which a true battle was waged in the last
decades and which, despite very heavy criticism deriving from a theoretical
Global Modernity 23
6 See Martin (1978), Hadden (1987) and Bruce (1996) for just a few examples of the different
and opposed positions.
24 chapter 2
suggest. But he is not comfortable with the idea that there is a general decline
in religious beliefs and practices, or with the thesis that there has been an
overall privatization of religion. While retaining the first meaning of secular-
ization is important for Casanova, since it points to empirically verifiable ele-
ments across Western societies, the latter two are true only in parts of Europe,
namely, where the Church was clearly and openly associated with reactionary
forces, this in turn engendering strong anti-religious movements and the de-
cline of faith, as well as decreasing relevance of religion in the public sphere.
This should not lead us to think that there have been no changes in religious
beliefs insofar as, following Taylor (2007; see also Joas 2012), it can be said that
a distinctive feature of modernity is turning to religion as one option among
others, which then ceases being mandatory.
If this is the case in the West, in other areas of the world the issue is even
more compounded. In Latin America, Africa and Asia, religion continues to be
an important force, although (despite a recent religious revival) it has declined
in China, a society whose intellectuals were in any case particularly detached
from strong religious beliefs, especially when they embraced Confucianism,
on top of having carried out a radically antireligious revolution (Weber 1920c;
Madsen 2010). Overall, however, except for large numbers of Muslim countries,
the differentiation between the polity and religion has been accomplished al-
most everywhere, although in fact the secularization of the state has taken
very different forms, even in the West (Stepan 2009).
In India, this has yielded a controversy that pitted secularists and anti-
secularists against each other. A number of intellectuals supported strong sec-
ularizing policies by the state and a broader laicization of Indian society, in a
radical Enlightenment direction, in order also to guarantee social peace in the
face of an increasingly violent Hindu nationalist and exclusivist position (Hin-
dutva) (Nanda 2004; Vanaik 1997). Others argued in favor of what they saw as
an Indic tradition, according to which the state should support all religious cur-
rents (Nandy 1990, 1985; Madan 1987 – although he later changed his position,
moving against religion in Madan 1997). Religious strife was supposed to devel-
op at least in part out of religious people’s anguish vis-à-vis attacks on religion.
The state should therefore eschew secularism (which is, however, inscribed
in the Indian constitution). In fact, the Indian state controls religious institu-
tions and has mixed Western secular tradition with Indic support to all reli-
gions. This was a project of the Occidentalizing position supported by N ehru,
as well as Gandhi’s accommodating perspective, closer to the Indic heritage.
It was a conscious cultural-political choice of the leadership of the indepen-
dence movement, not an automatic development of modernization, e ntailing
a sort of hybridization of civilizational principles (against the c reeping radical,
Global Modernity 25
modernity is dependent on the way it is regarded. This is not to say either that
there are no processes in this regard that escape the designs of each collectiv-
ity and of all of them in the long run. Unintentional consequences of indi-
vidual action and of collective movement are a permanent feature of social
life, creating social memories to which we are inevitably tied at the very begin-
ning of our always-creative endeavors (whatever the degree of novelty they
contain, and however much this may be constrained by power and perspec-
tives resistant to social change). Nevertheless, differentiation and integration
(plus de-differentiation and fragmentation), as well as the cultural and institu-
tional space for changes in belief and the public roles of religion, stem directly
from the collective causality of collective subjectivities (see Domingues 1995a,
2000a, 2008, 2012, for the elaboration of such categories).
We see that, in the West as much as in India, the sorts of institutional dif-
ferentiation, organization of religious and cultural systems more generally, as
well as the goals religious movements set themselves, vary according to what
people have in mind, at the same time as they deal with the institutional and
cultural (symbolic, hermeneutical) elements already generated by previous
modernizing moves. This should help us also to move beyond the Enlighten-
ment supposition of an inevitable push toward secularization, as well as the
opposite standpoint, both of which at this stage are obstacles to our under-
standing of contemporary modernity, whatever our normative preferences.
We could apply this to all other trend-concepts enumerated above. There is
secularization as a project and a consequence, but it is contingent on its de-
velopment and can of course be reversed or take future directions we cannot
at all anticipate. The same is true of rationalization, which today is entangled
with all sorts of irrationalities, even at the instrumental level, democratization,
bureaucratization or capitalist development, individualization and changes in
family life, and so on. The modernization of social life would therefore be the
outcome of trends brought about by a mix of intentional action and move-
ment with unanticipated outcomes. This, for instance, is what might authorize
us to speak, in certainly a more circumscribed way, of a “modern project,” as
Habermas (1980) did, but especially also of the non-intentional collective caus-
al impacts deriving from it. This is where, on the other hand, Polanyi’s (1944)
description and explanation of the emergence of capitalism, or the “satanic
mill,” is both warranted and absurd: while he is correct in identifying a liberal
modernizing offensive, which took over the state and from there implanted
a society largely based on market mechanisms, he took his argument too far:
markets were to a large extent a “spontaneous,” that is, a decentered develop-
ment of social relations, and this is what made it plausible to envisage a market
society which could include labor and land as commodities, as Marx (1867)
Global Modernity 27
Conclusion
by critical theory (cf. Habermas 1981, vol. 2, Chap. 8) as well as by other ap-
proaches (that is, often liberal, cf. Martuccelli 2010, 26–29) – proceeds, even
though it must be attentive to other aspects of social reality, too, at other levels
of generality (as I have tried to do with the polarization of modern thought
between the individual and society). Contemporary modernity, in its global
reach, must thus be a focus for our attention, demanding full mobilization of
our social science arsenal.
chapter 3
The Problem
The goal of this chapter is to return to some of the classical and central themes
taken up in the early days of sociology, or by the founding fathers of the disci-
pline before its current state of abandonment. We shall here discuss the devel-
opmental trends that, particularly in modernity, drive the multidimensionality
of social life. Theoretically these themes remain, or should remain, decisive,
insofar as they never cease from the standpoint of social practice. All in all,
returning to them will allow us to, in some measure, outline a more complex
view of humanity, less ethnocentric, in its directly social aspects and thereby
situate more precisely the differential features of modernity as such.
The theme of the multidimensionality of social life – or, more technically, of
social systems – has time and again surfaced in the social sciences since at least
Max Weber’s critique of Marxism and its brilliant and unilateral definition of
material life as the main causal vector in the unfolding of social relations. How-
ever, needless to say, the solutions thus far advanced to this puzzle are hardly
adequate. Most attempts, even when suggested in analytical guise, or at least in
terms of general conceptualizations, are merely descriptive. When conceptu-
ally articulated, the solutions have fallen incredibly short of a proper answer.
To be sure, Alexander (1988, Chap. 1), from a neo-Parsonian perspective,
phrased the issue from the standpoint of “action,” with its normative and con-
ditional elements, but he did not venture much farther than this, leaving aside
social systems and afterward embracing a strong sort of cultural idealism.
Mann (1986), in turn, tried his own and innovative solution with his social “net-
works of power,” clearly of Weberian inspiration. Yet the outcome is arguable:
Mann slips towards the definition of his concepts, sometimes not consistently,
posited as “ideal-types,” descriptive and reductive, that is, little theorized and
concentrated on the topic of power, which is excessively generalized. There is
much musing on the “economy,” “politics” (also “polity” or more recently “the
political”), “culture” (or “ideology”), etc. (by the way, I have done the same my-
self, though stressing that it was a provisional solution for a difficult-to-solve
One of the key statements by Marx and Engels (1845, 18–36ff) in one of the
founding texts of “historical materialism,” the collection of unpublished frag-
ments of what, already in several versions, later was assembled as The German
Ideology, was that human beings need to produce and reproduce their lives
as a basic and fundamental task. This meant that two elements took prior-
ity in their activities. First, the reproduction of the species was at stake, the
1 It does not work either to set “culture” as a unifying principle, as did Parsons (1951, 167–169,
passim), with a value system that is normatively specified in each subsystem, although some
of them can exhibit divergent values and norms.
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Her mother looked at her a moment. "Which of them would you like to do
without?" she asked.
The next afternoon Cousin Patty and Mrs. Edmonds were seated at their
sewing in the shady dining-room. Cousin Patty was a woman of much
experience, and an independent fortune. She was a cousin of Mrs. Edmond's
mother, and an old and tried friend. The children, however, knew her only from
her letters, as her home was in a distant city, and until lately she had been
closely confined at home by the care of an invalid mother.
"Cousin," said Mrs. Edmonds, "I'm puzzled to know what to do with Lettie.
Haven't you noticed how fretful and impatient she is?"
"I hoped she would outgrow it, but it seems rooted. Of course there is a great
deal to do in such a family as ours, but her lot is no worse than the rest, and
we all have good health."
"I think I can put you on a plan that will cure her," said Miss Patty, and then
followed a low-toned conversation.
"Cousin tells me," said Mrs. Edmonds at the supper-table, "that she is going
home on Thursday."
"Why, cousin," said Mr. Edmonds, "you should have told me sooner, that I
might have sat and looked at you all the time you were here."
"I had intended to make a longer visit, but this afternoon I heard of urgent
business requiring my return. Now, Benjamin, I have a proposition to make.
You know I am a lonesome old maid, and as I see that Letitia is quite
hampered here among so many, I think you might let her come and live with
me. Of course old maids don't like children, but neither does Letitia, so we will
just suit one another. You have so many you can spare one. I have won
Caroline's consent if I can get yours."
The result was that at 8 A. M. Thursday Sidney left Miss Patty and Lettie on
the platform of the morning train bound for the great city.
As they entered the car Miss Patty said to Lettie "Let me sit next the window. I
hate to sit next the aisle. Some one always tramps my clothes." After they
were seated she shut down the wooden screen.
"Why, Cousin Patty," exclaimed Lettie, "don't you want to see out?"
"And let in the cinders? Why, I've been over the road so often I know every
stone in it."
Evening came, and they went up the steps of a large handsome house, and
were admitted by a trim serving woman, who looked a little older than Miss
Patty.
"Yes, ma'am; and the room is ready, and everything as you told me."
Tibbie helped them carry their bundles upstairs, and while Miss Patty went on
to the front room, she said to Lettie, "This is your room, Miss Letitia." Lettie
found it beautifully furnished, mid rejoiced in the thought of the elegant leisure
she was about to enjoy. It was rather lonely at night without Hattie's chatter,
and it seemed so strange to have only Miss Patty to bid good-night.
The next day Miss Patty said, "My dear, I want you to feel that you have
nothing to do but enjoy yourself. I do not want you to make your own bed
even. Tibbie will do that. Choose your own amusements and employments."
It was very nice at first, and Lettie was loud in her praises of the new life, in
writing to her mother and Hattie. By and by, however, she became tired of
playing the piano in the lonely parlor, of drawing pictures which no one saw.
Reading had made her head ache—a new experience—and she wearied of
sitting and looking out of the window. She soon found that Tibbie did not like
intruders in the kitchen. It was so quiet! Cousin Patty had provided her with
nice clothing, but there was no one to see it. Cousin Patty's visitors were all
elderly, and talked about things above her comprehension. If she hadn't felt
ashamed, she would have asked for even a doll to keep her company. One
day she asked Miss Patty, "Do no children ever visit you?"
"Why, not often, dear. Isn't it pleasant that they don't? They make such a
disorder. Now at your father's it is so different. Sid wants something mended,
or Rob has lost something and wants you to find it, or Lily has lost your
thimble, or the baby has upset your work-basket, or some confusion all the
time. Now here we have such perfect quiet."
Lettie said nothing, but a few moments later she slipped quietly to her own
room. Miss Patty smiled and said, "The cure is working."
One morning, while Miss Patty was busy in the garden, Lettie stole out, as she
thought, unseen. But Miss Patty saw her, and ran around to the kitchen and
said to Tibbie, "She's gone. Run to the station, and keep her in sight."
"Dear, dear! If the child should get lost!" said Tibbie, rolling down her sleeves.
In a little while she came back, quite excited.
"If you please, Miss Patty, she's gone the other way. I went and asked Towne
if she bought a ticket. He said yes, she bought a ticket for Redpath, then Sam
Pierce said, 'If she did she went on the wrong train then, for she took the
down.'"
"Well, don't worry, Tibbie. There are telegraphs, you know," throwing off her
gardening attire. "Get me my bonnet and gloves."
In a few moments she had arranged with Towne, and paid for a return ticket
from the other end of the road. A message was sent to the conductor of No. 7.
"Send back young lady for Redpath. Mistake in train."
Then Miss Patty sent a telegram to Mr. Edmonds: "Lettie left this morning. Will
be home in the evening." So there at the station were Sid and Rob with the
spring wagon, and Lily perched up between them, clapping her hands at the
sight of the engine. Lettie hugged them all three, crying and laughing, and
then asked, "What are you doing down here?"
"Whew!" whistled Sid. "She'll come and take you back, then."
A vague terror entered Lettie's heart, and she made up her mind that she
would never go. What a joyful uproar there was, and how they all talked
together! In the evening, when all had gone to bed except Lettie, Hattie, and
their mother, Lettie said, "Mother, I think now that a large family is just
delightful, and I don't know how you all put up with me before. Please forgive
me. I'll not fret any more, if you'll only let me stay at home." You may be sure
Mrs. Edmonds forgave her.
The next morning in stepped Miss Patty. Lettie caught up Ruby and went to
meet her, with a little defiance and a great deal of shame in her face. "Miss
Patty, I'm very sorry. You have been very good to me, but I can't go back. I'm
glad I went with you, for I've learned that I do love the folks at home so much
that I would rather be here than any place in the world."
"What! among these noisy children, and in all this fuss! What a curious taste!"
Miss Patty made quite a long visit, and Lettie confided to her mother her
thought that she was much nicer there than at home.
HOW ROSIE HELPED.
HER name was Rosalie; but she was such a little creature that it seemed
more natural to call her Rosie.
Besides, she was always among the roses. On this morning while her father
talked with Dick, she hovered between the study and the flower garden, now
gathering her flowers, now peeping her head into the study to see if papa was
not almost through and ready to talk to her. She was shy of Dick; he was a
new boy, had only been with them a few days, and papa more than suspected
was not a good boy; so Rosie had strict orders not to visit him in the stable, or
have any talk with him unless papa or some one else was within hearing. Only
this morning papa had heard Dick use language which made him feel afraid
that he ought not to keep him in his employ. Yet how sorry he was for poor
orphan Dick, that nobody seemed to care for!
He tried to make him feel that he was his friend; tried to rouse him to want to
be a man, and to overcome his grave faults. "You are just the age of my boy
Harris," Rosie heard her father say, "and he is just about your size. Harris is a
grand boy; he never gave his mother an hour of anxiety, and I can trust him
anywhere. I have such faith in his word that when he says a thing, I do not
have to inquire into it, I know it is true. Isn't it worth while for a boy to have
such a character as that? Don't you think you would enjoy hearing people say:
That thing is so, you may depend on it, for Dick Sanders told me, and he is to
be trusted, you know.'"
Dick shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, and his face seemed to be
growing red over some feeling, Rosie's papa was not sure what.
At last he said, "It is all very well for a boy like yours to be honest, and all that;
why shouldn't he be? Look what chances he has had; and then look what
chances I've had! Kicked and cuffed about the world all my life; nobody cares
what becomes of me. I heard you pray for Harris this morning, and I thought of
it then. There never was a person in this world who cared enough for me to
make a prayer about me!"
Little Rosebud
What a strange boy Dick was! For a moment, Rosie's father did not know what
to say. Just then Rosie, her head framed in the window, where she had been
standing for a few minutes, her hands full of flowers, her face sweetly grave,
spoke her troubled thought: "Didn't Jesus pray for you when he lived here?
That time when he said 'Now I pray for all who shall believe on me?'"
"Why, that time, don't you know? When he prayed for his disciples; then he
said, 'neither pray I for these alone,' and after that he prayed for everybody
who should ever live, who would love him and mind him. If you mean to mind
him, he prayed for you, too, mamma told me. Don't you mean to mind him?
Because it isn't nice to leave yourself out of his prayer."
Wise little Rosie! Papa said not another word. He thought Dick had gotten his
sermon, text and all. Neither did Rosie say any more; she did not know she
had preached a sermon.
Years and years after that, when Rosie was nineteen, one day she went to
church in a city five hundred miles away from her childhood home, and she
heard a man preach on these words: "Neither pray I for these alone, but for all
them which shall believe on me through their words." It was a grand sermon;
Rosalie Pierson thought she had never heard one more wonderful. At the
close of service the minister came straight to her seat, held out his hand and
said: "It was a blessed text, Miss Pierson; I never forgot the sermon you
preached from it. I know now that the Lord Jesus prayed for me, that day. And
I know that I believe on Him through your words."
"Why!" said Rosalie, in astonishment, "I don't understand, this surely cannot
be—"
CHAPTER I.
"MAMMA, what do you think? You know the willow chair that we had in the
summer-house last year? Well, we left it out there all winter, and Lily left that
mat she was making for the fair—and that she looked for everywhere, after we
got back to the city—in the chair!"
"I always have believed your stories," replied Mrs. Browne, smiling.
"Thank you!" returned Ella, kissing her mother's cheek. "Well, this morning is
the first time I have been down to the summer-house since we came back
here, and as soon as I opened the door I saw the funniest sight! There lay the
mat in the chair, and a bird's nest on the mat, with three eggs in it. It seems
that we left the window open, and the birds thought it was a good place for a
nest. And there sat the bird on a branch just outside, singing away as if its
little body was full of happiness."
"I hope you did not touch the eggs?" said Mrs. Browne.
"Indeed I did not! I just took a peep and ran off for fear of frightening the bird."
"No, not yet. They will find it out; but, mamma, do you think they will disturb
the nest?" asked Ella anxiously.
"I do not think they would, but we will talk it over together before they find it
out. They might rush into the summer-house and frighten the birds so as to
make them desert the place."
"It will not be so very long that you will have to stay away," replied Mrs.
Browne; "you surely would not wish to drive the birds away from their home?"
"Can't we build a rustic booth, or something, down in the woods?" asked Tom.
"It would be something new, and by the time we were tired of that the young
birds will have hatched and flown away."
Mamma agreed that this was a good suggestion; she had another scheme
which interested the children.
"How would you like to have a botany class?" she asked. "You can build your
booth just in the edge of the woods, and we will go out there every morning
and study the plants which you will find handy."
All agreed that this was a fine scheme, and with a little assistance from
Patrick, a very substantial booth was erected in the course of a few days; and,
wild with delight, the Brownes took possession at once.
"Now for the first lesson," said Mrs. Browne, as she allowed herself to be
seated in the one low rocker which the children had brought from the house,
especially for her use. She had in her hand a small tin can such as baking-
powder comes in, filled with earth, and two or three tiny plants were just
showing themselves. First she showed the children some dry, dark-colored
seeds. "These are morning-glory seeds," she said. "A few days ago, when we
first talked about botany lessons, I put some like them in this can of earth, and
here you see what they have already come to. I will pull up one; what do you
see?"
A LITTLE PLANTLET.
"Yes; and now you notice this from which the covering has not yet fallen. You
see the same parts, and if you could look at one of these dry seeds through a
microscope you would see coiled around inside, the same three parts; now
when the seed is planted, we cannot tell how, but in some way, the moisture of
the earth and the warmth cause the little plantlet which we call the embryo, to
swell and grow. It soon bursts the walls of its house, and the two seed-leaves
which we call cotyledons, expand. The little stem which we call the radicle,
pushes up and supports them, while from the opposite end the root begins to
grow. I think if you will look carefully under that beech-tree, you will find some
beech-nuts which have just sprouted. I used to gather them when I was a little
girl; the crisp seed-leaves are very palatable."
For a little while the children were busy looking for "beech-nut sprouts," while
Mrs. Browne sat under her green canopy enjoying the clear air and the fresh
wood odors.
"Cotyledons!" answered Ella promptly, the others coming in more slowly upon
the same word.
"And this?" pointing to the slender stem bearing the cotyledons at the top.
"The radicle."
"And what do we call the whole as it lies coiled up in the nut before it is
planted?"
"The embryo!"
CHAPTER II.
LAYING THE FOUNDATION.
"I wonder which mamma will tell us about this morning," said Ella as she and
Tom skipped across the meadow, leaving Mrs. Browne to follow more leisurely
with Bennie.
"The root, of course," said Tom; "the root is—well, it is the root of the whole
thing. The foundation, you know."
"I hate foundations; that is what Miss Lyman is always saying, 'Young ladies,
lay the foundation well!' I thought we would get away from all that in vacation,"
and she laughed merrily.
"Well, there can't be a great deal to be said about roots, I am sure," returned
Tom; "that'll comfort you, I suppose."
"I think we will talk about roots to-day." Tom and Ella exchanged glances at
this, but Mrs. Browne continued, "the root has two uses; it serves to fix and
hold the plant firmly in the ground, and also it is the part of the plant that takes
up food from the soil. The plant needs to be fed with certain minerals and
gases, and these are dissolved in the moisture of the soil, and the water is
sucked up by the roots."
FLESHY ROOT.
"I do not understand," said Ella, "how the root can suck up water! Are there
holes in the root which stand for mouths?"
"The roots are covered with what we call fibrils or root hairs, and these are
very delicate, and through their surfaces they take in the moisture. Now if you
will examine this root of a young tree which Tom has pulled up for our lesson
you will see that the root has branched, and every year the branches multiply
and spread farther and deeper into the ground. Now notice that the branches
grow smaller and smaller. Look through this microscope and you will see the
tiny hair-like projections; these take up the moisture, and as there are so many
of them upon every little rootlet, they take up a great deal. We call this a
branching root; some roots are what we call fibrous. Tom, suppose you see if
you can find a buttercup root and bring it here."
FIBROUS ROOT.
Tom sprang to do his mother's bidding, and soon returned with what looked
like a hank of thread—long fibres bound together at the surface of the ground,
at the top of what we call the axis of the plant. Mrs. Brown explained that the
central stem is called the axis, and that the part which goes downward is the
descending axis, and the part that shoots upward and bears the branches, is
the ascending axis.
"You observe," she said, "that in the case of this plant there is no descending
axis, the long fibrous roots spring from the collum or collar, which is the place
where the root and stem join, or from the line of division between the
ascending and descending axis. The fibrous roots are mainly for the purpose
of absorbing nourishment for the immediate use of the plant, and this structure
gives them greater surface by which to take up the moisture for rapid growth.
Other roots serve an additional purpose. They store up food for the future
growth of the plant, and such roots are called fleshy roots, and many of them
are useful to us for food. In such the axis is long and thick and with only short
branches and of course fewer fibrils."
"Now if we leave one of these fleshy roots—for instance the beet—in the
ground through the winter instead of storing it in the cellar for table use, when
spring comes the plant will begin to put forth a new growth, much more
vigorous than that of the first year, and quite different. It will send up strong
shoots bearing flowers and ripening seed. And all this will use up the food
stored in the root, and when the seed has ripened the plant will die. This we
call a biennial plant."
"The fibrous roots belong largely to annual plants, while the branching roots
belong principally to the woody plants, as trees and shrubs. I heard Tom
talking about transplanting trees. You should take great care not to injure the
small roots and fibrils, for, by breaking or cutting off these, you lessen the
absorbing power of the root."
"You spoke of annuals and another kind—those which live two years," began
Ella.
"Biennials; be sure you get the names; it is just as well to learn a thing
thoroughly in the beginning—a few facts, names or dates thoroughly fastened
upon the memory are better than a vague idea of a whole subject, without any
definite knowledge. We classify plants as annuals, biennials and perennials;
those which live one year, those which die after perfecting the seed the
second year, and those which live on year after year."
"I could tell you a great deal about roots, but I suppose you want to get to
leaves and flowers, so we will drop the subject of roots and take up the stem
next time," said Mrs. Browne, smiling upon her impatient little girl.
CHAPTER III.
MORE ABOUT LEAVES.
"WHO wants to study in vacation?"
The speaker was Mr. Browne's nephew; he sat upon a stump in the woods not
far from the pretty booth where Mrs. Browne awaited the coming of her class.
He kicked his heels against the half-decayed bark which, giving way under the
repeated kicks and falling to the ground, was picked up by the youngest of the
trio of Brownes and stored away for the gypsy fire which he proposed to build
after a while.
"And botany too! I don't care a flip about that stuff; I wanted to go fishing; it's
lots more fun."
"But we can't fish all the time; and mother makes botany real interesting. The
other day we had to talk about roots, because that comes first, and we
thought it would be terribly stupid; but it wasn't! We liked it first-rate, and we
know quite a number of things now about roots, so come on, Charlie."
"Bother!" Charlie very slowly descended from his perch, and followed the
others with a scowl on his rather handsome face. Mrs. Browne welcomed him
with a smile, not appearing to notice his surly mood.
"We will talk a little about leaves to-day," she said. "There are two principal
sorts of leaves; now I want you to look at these which I have brought and see
if you can find out the difference between them." She handed the children
some leaves of the lily of the valley and the tulip, with others from a maple tree
near by.
"Try again."
"The maple leaf is divided off by three little ridges spreading apart from the
stem," said Ella.
"Ah! now you are coming at it. The two great divisions of leaves of which I just
spoke are characterized by these threads, or, as we call them, veins. The
maple belongs to the netted-veined leaves, and the others to the parallel-
veined. You remember that at our first talk we learned about seed-leaves?
Can any of you tell what we called the seed-leaves?"
"Right. Well, the parallel-veined leaves belong to the sort of plants which have
only one seed-leaf or cotyledon, and we call them monocotyledonous plants;
and the netted-veined leaves belong to and distinguish those with two
cotyledons, and are called dicotyledonous plants. Now notice that a leaf has
three parts: a blade, the broad thin part, a petiole, or, as you would call it, the
stem-stalk, which supports it; and, as you see in these quince leaves, there is
also a pair of small leaf-like appendages which are called stipules. All leaves
do not have these, and some have no petioles. In such cases we say the leaf
is sessile, and sessile means sitting; and we shall find the word used in regard
to other parts of the plant as we go on in our study. This quince, and also the
apple leaf, have one large vein running through the middle as if the petiole
were extended to the tip or apex of the leaf. This sends off branches, and
these in turn break into smaller ones until the leaf is all over network. It is tilled
in with a green pulp and covered with a thin skin called the epidermis."
"Why, we had that word in physiology," exclaimed one of the listeners. "It
means the same as cuticle or outside skin."
"Exactly; so you see we have in the blade the fibrous framework or skeleton,
the pulpy filling, and the transparent covering."
Charlie had been listlessly fingering a leaf, seemingly not interested in the
talk, but at this moment he started up, exclaiming, "I know how to make
skeleton leaves! You just put the leaf into some kind of acid—I have forgotten
the name, that eats out the pulp and leaves the framework—sister Anna has a
whole lot of them."
"Yes; and if we had one here we could see the method of veining very plainly.
In the parallel-veined leaves all the larger ribs run lengthwise, and there are
no branching veins which you can see plainly, only very small vein-lets. Now
just a glance at the leaves of a plant or tree will tell you to which of two great
divisions the plant or tree belongs."
"I did not suppose there could be so much to say about leaves," said Ella,
turning her leaf over and looking curiously at it.
Mrs. Browne smiled. "We have only just begun to examine them. We might
find things enough about them to fill a great many morning hours. We might
talk about the shapes. We have: ovate and lanceolate, oblong and orbicular
and a great many more you might find it hard to remember. Then the margins.
Some are entire, that is, even, not notched, and others—but look for
yourselves and find out the differences."
"This willow is notched, and so is the elm leaf," said Charley, growing
interested.
"You will find many forms if you take notice, and each has a name."
"You must try to find out all you can about them. Notice the arrangement upon
the stem. Some are opposite, like the maple, others like the rose are alternate;
now here is a pansy—excuse me for picking to pieces this pretty bouquet
which you gave me, but it is in the interest of Science. The pansy or violet has
alternate leaves with stipules, while the sweet pea has a compound leaf; but I
know you are anxious to get to flowers, and we will take them up next time,
only we ought to talk a little about the uses of leaves. You may find as many
uses as you can before we come here for another talk."
"Didn't you like it?" asked one of the Brownes as they stopped on the way
home to enjoy the top rail of the fence.
"It wasn't so bad as I thought it would be," replied Charlie. "I never should
have suspected that there was so much talk to be made over a leaf."
MRS. BROWNE and Ella were sitting upon the porch which ran along the front
of their country home. They were waiting for the boys to come to the botany
study. Mrs. Browne had decided to have her class at home, thinking that the
heavy rain of the evening before must have made it very damp in the woods.
Tom had gone to the office, and Ben—well, Ben was somewhere. That is what
they always said of Ben, "Oh! He is somewhere."
"Mamma," said Ella in a whisper, "do look! There is the old man coming up the
walk."
Mrs. Browne arose, and stepping forward waited. Evidently the man coming
towards her was blind. He was led by a large dog, and was talking either to
himself or to the dog.
"Yes, I'm sure of it; I should know the odor anywhere; it is wild roses; Ned, my
dog, we must find them."
"Pardon," said the stranger; "I did not know any one was here. Perhaps I am
intruding? The perfume of wild roses carried me back to my early home, and it
seemed as if I must be standing under my mother's window, and Ned and I
thought we would find the roses."
POPPY-HEAD.
"Ella," said Mrs. Browne, "get the scissors and cut some roses for the
gentleman."
When the flowers were brought the stranger handled them tenderly.
"You wonder I should care, when I cannot see," he said; "but every leaf and
petal is pictured in memory. I know the shade of green of the calyx; the
delicate tint of the petals, the beauty of the half-open buds as well as if I could
see. Thank you, madam, thank you!"
"Will you sit down and rest?" said Mrs. Browne kindly.
"No, thank you; I want to reach my journey's end at the next town this
morning. My faithful Ned and I will jog on. Good-morning!"
PINK.
"Mamma," said Ella, "can we study about the flowers themselves this
morning? That blind man talked about things that I did not understand at all.
I'm tired of leaves and roots and things."
"I do not know as we will study at all this morning," replied Mrs. Browne. "The
boys are slow about getting here."
"There comes Ben, and I hear Tom whistling around the corner," and in a
moment more the boys appeared and settled themselves for the talk.
Tom had brought a bunch of pinks, and Ben had some poppies which a
neighbor had given him, while Ella held a spray of the wild roses.
"And so you want to talk about the flowers themselves?" said Mrs. Browne.
"Well, if you will look, each of you, at the flowers you have you will find them
made up of several parts. Tom, what do you find?"
Tom busied himself for a moment pulling apart a pink blossom, then replied, "I
find this outside green part, and then there are the leaves of the flower and
little slender thread-like things in the centre."