Newspaper Page Text
and women. They tax the public treasury to watch
and punish them. They flood our community with
the odor of moral decay that nauseates and makes
sick the whole population. The whole thing is
wrong from start to finish. Every principle of
manhood revolts against the toleration of such prac
tices in the cities of to-day.
The New City.
I have had a vision of the new city; the city
as we should make it; the city as we can make it.
The people had tired of bowing to immoral men as
their masters, and fired by the spirit of real reform,
they arose and placed in control men who would
enforce the law. They only needed men with
nerve to do what they had sworn to do. It caused
a great sensation. Every candidate for office from
mayor down, including council, solicitor, judge, ju
ror, and all the rest, was asked only one question:
“Will you regard your oath of office?”
On this issue, the battle of ballots was fought,
and when it was all over, it was found they had
elected men, every one of them, to keep his oath
in every particular, or die.
Then the work of sure enough reform began.
What a stir it created!
Things that hitherto had been winked at were
knocked out. Crime that had before been regarded
as a necessary evil was punished and stopped. Ev
ery saloon in the slums was shut up because the
keepers could not comply with the law with ref
erence to good moral character. Every house of
bad repute was closed. The Sabbath day was re
garded. Every druggist and fruit vender and every
man violating the law was arraigned before the
grand jury, and convicted by the court.
Do you tell me that this would not be a better
state of affairs than we now have? Do you say it
is a fairy dream of a wild, fanatical dreamer, and
it cannot be brought to pass? Then, I say to you
it is not a dream of a fanatical dreamer, that it
can be brought to pass. That we can have it any
time the Church makes up its mind to stop playing
the hypocrite and gets down to business.
The Price of Blood.
Do you say it will take blood to bring it to pass?
Then, I say, let the blood flow. I like the spirit
of the old Moorish chief, who, in the days of the
cruel Spanish oppression, when he had stood it
as long as he could, went to hold a conference with
the Spanish representative.
When he found there was to be no let up by
Spain, the old chief took a pen knife from his
pocket, and thrust it into his biceps, saying, as the
blood spurted, “You see that! How do you like
it? Me have a nation that will spill every drop
of it before we will longer submit to the injustice
brought upon us.”
Such heroism in the cause of right never fails.
It will carry here in our own midst with reference
to matters about which we are speaking. When
the Christian manhood and the manhood of our
community, or any community, gets to the point
that it is clean up, and clean out, or quit, then we
are going to have a moral government. Then,
we shall obliterate the festering sores that infect
the atmosphere with their immoral odors.
We can get rid of the dive business, we can have
law enforced any day under the sun when the Church
will vote as it prays, and demand of its represen
tatives that they shall be true to their oath. We
can have this long coveted condition of affairs—it
is a simple thing to obtain.
Oh, men and women, have we not reached the
point where we are ready to get rid of these evils?
Have we not smelt the odor of their decay long
enough? Is not that army of wretched men and
women big enough?
For Mother’s Boy.
Surely the man who is unconcerned about this
matter has not had a vision of the wretchedness
of human life. Young men, fond mothers, boys
are caught in the mill, and crushed to pieces. They
cannot reform. They have gone beyond the limit
of hope if left to themselves. Do they not appeal
to us?
The Golden Age for September 20, 1906.
Poor, sin-crushed and Satan-bound souls! When
I see them, I almost hear a voice from another
world, and, turning, I see a beckoning hand. It
is not the hand of an angel; it is the hand of one
closer than the angels; it is the hand of mother.
So piteously it beckons, not to the poor, wretched
boy or girl, but to me. Why to me? I am straight.
My life is fortified. There is nothing the matter
with me. Ah, it beckons to me to help save and
keep saved the boy or girl who is damned. Once
they were pure, and full of hope, but now they are
gone. Oh, the beckoning hand of help!
This is the cry that makes men and women
cranks for God and humanity. It is the cry that
put Catherine and William Booth out of the Church
on to the street to preach the everlasting Gospel. It
is the cry that has caused the tap of their drum to
reverberate around the globe. It is the cry that
fired Jerry McAuley, the prison thief, and set him
in the way of the “Glory Hallelujah” song, which
has opened mission doors and houses of refuge
throughout the world. It is the cry, which, when
once heard, brings the prince from his place to
greet the peasant in his hut.
Oh, men and women, have you heard this cry?
Have you seen this piteous, beckoning’ hand? Then,
why longer wait? Let us go to-day and start the
march for victory. It is easy to bring to pass.
Our brothers and sisters are in bondage, and Satan
and his cohorts have them in chains. They are in
our midst. We can hear their own cries for de
liverance. Are we longer to delay, or will we lift
up the hand, the united hand, and drive back
the monster, and set the captive free?
Dr. Broughton in London.
“Churchmen, defend your schools.’’ This is post
ed over the door of one of the school buildings
which I passed to-day. What does it mean to an
American? Well, nothing especially. But to those
people it means much. It means that the Church
of England is calling upon the church to stand for
the abominable system of ecclesiastical education,
which is now the great issue over here. The gov
ernment forces every teacher in the schools to teach
the creed of the established church. Non-conform
ists, consequently, are not allowed to teach. And
yet their money, in taxes, has to go to support
the schools, and their children must be taught the
established creed.
The non-conformists, or free churches, as they
are called, are making a most vigorous fight against
this injustice, and it now looks like the liberal gov
ernment, which is in power, will change the law,
if they do not completely annul it. This is why the
sign is posted. It is a call to rally.
What a call for a church to make! Everybody
knows the thing is unjust, and everybody is bound
to see that it is in strict contradiction to the teach
ing of Christ. How any such call can come from a
Christian church is a thing I cannot understand.
Women as Bar Maids.
But there are lots of funny things about the
English way of doing things. They have women
keepers of barrooms. The prettiest women in the
country they try to get to keep saloons. I sup
pose you want to know how I come to know about
the looks of the bar maids? Well, I’ll tell you.
I have seen them, and I know a pretty woman when
I see her. Ordinarily it makes me feel good to
look at a pretty woman. I think God intended that
I should. But every time I see one keeping a
saloon I feel bad. I just know she is not in the
place God wants her and so does everybody else.
And yet, why not a woman keep their barrooms?
Is there anything wrong in that business? Some
people have away of saying there is not. Many
of the women drink. I never pass a saloon that I
do not see women going in and coming out. "What
a sight! God forbid that it shall ever be so with
us.
The London Heat.
Yesterday was the hottest day London has had
in 30 years. Some one suggested that it was a spe-
cial act of Providence to please me. But I am
not so well pleased—93 in the shade in London is
about 110 at home. My! I am about to melt now
while I write. If I was at home this afternoon I
think I would get in my “Billygobile, ” (Bill is
the name of my horse. We call him “Billy” for
short) and ride out to the woods instead of being
shut up here in my room losing the five
pounds of extra flesh that I got on the ship while
crossing.
Eeverybody that can, and a good many that can
not, is using automobiles these hot days. I like
the auto. It is a very fine instrument, but I must
say I like the “Billy” the best, and I think it is
much more in keeping with my purse at this spe
cial time, for a man who comes to London will
soon find that his pockets are very light even if he
does occupy a room on the top floor of some hotel
and eat from lunch wagons, and pick his teeth
around the door. It is a great privilege, though, to
be able to spend a while in London. It is indeed
a wonderful place. I’ve preached here many times
before this. I’ve thought about the people and the
country, but it seems to me that I am just begin
ning to know them. They are inexpressibly great
in many, many lines. They have got great churches
and great preachers. It does one good to rub up
against them and sec how they do it. While here
I am making - much study of their churches and
charity work. I want to be able to do better and
wiser work when I get home.
Dr. Morgan in London.
Dr. Campbell Morgan is, to many of the leading
church people, the greatest preacher in London. I
thank God for him. He is certainly a man set
apart of God for this day and time. There are
other men, also, who stand out conspicuously in
the London public. But he measures up to any
of them, and, according to many of the best judges,
excels them all. The work he has done in the two
years he has been here is wonderful. But Tie can
not be judged in his work except in connection with
his associate, Rev. Albert Swift, who looks after
details and organization and institutions. It is in
deed a combination that seems to be heaven-made.
Mr. Swift is a fine Bible teacher, and is really an
expert in Christian socialism. Os course one of the
greatest factors in the London pulpit, as every
one knows who has been long here, is Rev. F. B.
Meyer.. He is in better shape now than I’ve seen
him in several years.
I must not write more. The weather is too hot.
I am greatly enjoying my work with Dr. Morgan’s
church. I am taking, in addition to the Sundays,
the Friday night Bible lectures. I give the first
of them Friday night, when the Bible schools re
open. I am not trying to take Dr. Morgan’s place.
I am just trying to do my own little work in my
own little way. Fraternally,
Len. G. Broughton.
Conklin’s Recipe For Success.
When the late Senator Gorman, of Maryland, first
came to the Senate, Mr. Conkling ami he happened
to be seated together upon a sofa in the Senate
chamber while a well known statesman of the period
occupied the floor. “Gorman,” said Conkling, “you
have come here in good season. Let me give you
a sure recipe for success. Begin every speech you
make with the assertion that you and you alone
are the purest man that ever lived, and end each
with the declaration that you are the bravest.”
And then Gorman asked Conkling why he himself
had not followed this recipe. Conkling answered
with a sigh, “I learned it too late.”—Henry Wat
terson in the Reader.
For many years the question as to the exact
seat of intelligence in the human brain has occupied
the attention of scientists. At the present time
there is an “Interacademic Brain Research Move
ment” being conducted at the Wistar Institute in
Philadelphia, but the mystery has not yet been
solved by the eminent scientists engaged in the
work.
5