The Philistine

In Short

The Philistine is an 1895 periodical of protest published in East Aurora, New York. It functions as a defiant reaction against the "over-civilized" and "over-sensitized" literary culture of the Gilded Age. Through a mix of essays, poetry, and biting editorial commentary, it champions sincerity, individual genius, and the "confessional" in writing. By railing against rigid social codes like the chaperone system and the "sugared half-truths" of popular magazines, it established a lasting legacy as one of the earliest, most colorful examples of the American "little magazine" movement.

The Story

The arc of this publication begins with a firm declaration of its purpose: it is a "periodical of protest," intended to challenge the status quo. The opening pages immediately establish an aesthetic of contrarianism, featuring a dream-sequence poem by William Morris that serves as a melancholic, earnest contrast to the aggressive wit found in the later editorial columns.

The middle section shifts toward a philosophical defense of truth in art. A contemplative essay on the lives of Italian painters celebrates a time when art was a "perpetual uplifting" of the beautiful, untainted by the cynicism of modern life. This is followed by a stark, tragic short story regarding a father-son conflict in a frontier military post, where an inflexible code of honor leads to the son’s suicide after he is caught cheating at cards. The juxtaposition is deliberate; the publication moves from the high idealism of the past to the brutal, unforgiving realities of the present.

The narrative then pivots to a fiery argument in favor of the "confessional" mode of writing. By invoking the literary heavyweights of the century—Emerson, George Eliot, and Whitman—the text makes a case for the necessity of raw, unflinching honesty in literature. It critiques the commercialized "confessions" found in popular journals, dismissing them as "sham pretense," and argues that the only writing worth reading is that which is willing to expose the author’s own flaws.

The progression continues into a pointed social critique regarding the "chaperone" system. By framing the custom as a hollow, imported affectation that insults the dignity of young men and women, the text calls for a "new declaration of independence." It argues that true character is built on self-respect, not surveillance.

Finally, the publication settles into the "Side Talks," a sprawling, irreverent collection of editorial notes. Here, the tone is consistently skeptical and playful. The editor mocks other writers, critiques the mechanical obsession with hyphens in modern novels, and pokes fun at the absurdity of public discourse. The ending is not a formal conclusion but an ongoing dialogue. It leaves the reader with a list of "Little Journeys" to the homes of great men, signaling a transition from the protest of the current issue to a broader, ongoing project of literary exploration. It is a work that does not seek to resolve its arguments, but rather to sustain a permanent state of agitation against the mediocre.

How It Unfolds

The call to arms The periodical opens with a mission statement and a dream poem by William Morris, setting a tone of romantic idealism juxtaposed against a rebellious, "protest" identity.

The praise of past masters A reflective essay on the lives of Italian painters contrasts the "breathless pleasure" of historical artistry with the cynical, artificial nature of the contemporary world.

The tragedy of the frontier A short story follows, detailing the rigid, destructive code of military honor that drives a young lieutenant to suicide after a card-cheating scandal.

The defense of the confession The text argues that the only literature of lasting value is that which is genuinely confessional, critiquing the sanitized, commercialized writing found in popular magazines.

The rejection of social artifice An essay attacks the "chaperone" and the cult of "good form," urging young people to abandon these imported, restrictive manners in favor of personal autonomy.

The final skirmish The closing "Side Talks" offer a rapid-fire series of critiques and humorous observations, dismissing pretentious editors and celebrating a spirit of independence that refuses to be silenced by the mainstream.

The People

The figures in these pages are often archetypes of the tensions of the time. The Father in the frontier story represents the "stern old martinet," a man whose life is defined by a rigid, hide-bound sense of honor that leaves no room for human failing. His Son, the young lieutenant, represents the struggle of youth trapped by a stifling environment, eventually choosing death over the public shame of his own indiscretion.

In the editorial voice, Elbert Hubbard acts as the central provocateur, acting as both an advocate for the "confessional" and a critic of the "Ishmaelites" who sell culture by the ton. He positions himself alongside literary giants like Ralph Waldo Emerson and Walt Whitman, using their names to validate his own demand for authenticity. William McIntosh appears as a sharp-eyed social critic, acting as the "social spotter" who identifies the absurdities of the chaperone system and the hollow hypocrisy of "good form." Through these voices, the periodical constructs an identity for the "Philistine"—a person of taste and honesty who stands apart from the "polite" society that prefers comfortable lies to the unvarnished truth.

In Its Own Voice

“Art, if it be anything, is the perpetual uplifting of what is beautiful in the sight of the multitude—the perpetual adoration of that loveliness, material and moral, which men in the haste and greed of their lives are everlastingly forgetting.”

This observation defines the publication’s longing for a higher standard of art in an age of industrial haste.

“The great orator always shows a dash of contempt for the opinions of his audience, and the great writer is he who loses self consciousness and writes himself down as he is, for at the last analysis all literature is a confession.”

This line summarizes the central argument for the necessity of radical honesty in the creative process.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the search for authenticity in a rapidly industrializing, commercial society. It argues that modern life—with its rigid social manners, its obsession with "good form," and its sanitized commercial literature—has fundamentally stifled the human spirit. The text serves as a challenge to the reader to reject these artificial constraints and embrace the "confessional" mode, where writers are bold enough to be flawed. It is an argument for individual genius, suggesting that true greatness is only possible when one stops performing for the "rabble" and begins speaking with the honesty of a person who has nothing to lose.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the biting wit of H.L. Mencken or the early, rebellious spirit of American independent journalism will find much to admire here. It is an exhilarating, if occasionally prickly, experience to read a voice that is so thoroughly unconcerned with being "polite." It captures the specific, restless energy of the 1890s, when the weight of Victorian morality began to chafe against the desire for modern, personal truth.

However, the reader must be prepared for the occasional difficulty of its period-specific attitudes. The prose can be sharply exclusionary, and its references to forgotten literary rivals and minor public figures will be opaque to a modern reader without significant context. The short fiction, particularly the story of the frontier suicide, carries a heavy, melodrama-soaked tone that may feel jarringly intense. Despite these hurdles, the book remains a fascinating historical artifact. It is a rare glimpse into a time when a simple periodical could position itself as a "periodical of protest," and it reminds us that the urge to "say it like it is"—to strip away the pretensions of the day—is a recurring, necessary cycle in the life of any culture. You read it not for a smooth, polished narrative, but for the thrill of watching a group of writers try to set the world on fire with a bit of ink and a very sharp tongue.