Newspaper Page Text
8
The Golden Age
(SUCCESSOR TO RELIGIOUS FORUN)
Published Ebery Thursday by the Golden Hge Publishing
Company (Inc.)
OFFICES: LOWNDES BUILDING, ATLANTA, GA.
Price: $2.00 a Year
Ministers $1.50 per Year.
In cases of foreign address fifty cents should be added to cobet
additional postage.
Make all remittances payable to The Golden Age Publishing Company.
WILLIAM D. UPSHfXW, - , - - Editor
A. E. RAMSAUR, - - - Managing Editor
LEM. G. BROUGHTON - - - Pulpit Editor
Entered at the Post Office tn Atlanta, Ga.,
as second-class matter.
To the Public: The advertising columns of The
Golden Age will have an editorial conscience. No
advertisement will be accepted which we believe
would be hurtful to either the person or the purse of
our readers.
Lee.
By William D. Upshaw.
Lee, 0 Lee! Virginia’s son—
'While years shall flee and ages run,
Thy name, a synonym of Truth,
Shall bless our men—inspire our youth!
Lee, 0 Lee! our Southern knight—
With Faith that gilded gloom with light,
Thy helmet-crown—chivalrous tread
Are regnant ’mong the hero dead!
Lee, O Lee! the Nation’s pride,
Thy voice is calling o’er the tide—
Our country forth its tribute brings
More radiant than the crown of kings!
Lee, 0 Lee! all sons of Earth
(Bless now the day that gave thee birth;
And Duty—treasured word of thine,
Glows everywhere with face divine!
President Jameson’s Loss.
Last week in Monroe, Georgia, Mrs. Matheson, the
honored mother of President S. Y. Jameson, of
Mercer University, passed away. She died at the
home of her youngest daughter, Mrs. 0. M. Walker,
and although life’s beautiful evening was too short
for the many who loved her, she leaves in her chil
dren, Mrs. Walker, Mrs. J. W. Gaines, of Newnan,
and her widely honored son, Dr. Jameson, a glorious
evidence of consecrated motherhood and a rich and
enriching heritage to the cause of her Redeemer.
Georgia Loses—Texas Gains.
Last Sunday was a sad day to hundreds of hearts
in Macon. After twelve years of signally success
ful service, Dr. J. L. White leaves the pastorate of
the First Baptist Church to accept the leadership
of the church in that city of magic growth, Beau
mont, Texas, Dr. White has done a truly grand
work in Macon and throughout all Georgia and the
South.
Whether leading one of the greatest churches in
all Christendom in a work of progress that is felt
in power at home and across the sea, or stirring the
assembled thousands of young people North and
South at Sunset Rock or Lookout Mountain—or
preaching the Gospel of Christian statesmanship
on the historic soil of Richmond—or declaring the
American concept of Bible Iqyalty before the Bap
tist World Congress in London—J. L. White has
always and everywhere impressed men that they
had heard the voice of a man—a man true to God
and true to man—-loving, fearless, fervid and faith
ful.
As President of the Board of Trustees of Monroe
—now Bessie Tift College—he has championed with
inspiring ability and consecration- the Christian;
The Golden Age for January 17, 1907.
education of women, and President Charles Spur
geon Jackson and his four hundred girls are in
mourning over Dr. White’s going away.
To a vast throng of men at the city auditorium
he delivered a farewell message on Sunday after
noon, melting and moving hearts, and lifting them
to a higher plane of Christian manhood.
All denominations join in sorrow over the depart
ure from their midst of this great and good man,
and the gain to the great empire of Texas is meas
ured by Georgia’s loss. The writer journeyed far
to attend Dr. White’s last Sunday morning service,
not only because of what this “ Georgianized ” son
of North Carolina and Wake Forest has meant to
the kingdom of God, but because, also, J. L. White
knows how in his friendship to be so close akin to
“the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”
A “Wet” Spot in Ocilla.
That is a good, funny piece of news that comes
to us from the plucky little city of Ocilla, Georgia.
Eight hundred dollars worth (?) of liquor actually
poured out by the town marshal! That is no fairy
tale! That is no “Prohibition” dream. It is a
piece of history—and modern history at that.
A few months ago, through the leadership of
determined men, the Legislature abolished the dis
pensary, leaving whiskey in the house valued at
SBOO.OO. And then the question arose before the
mayor and council: “What shall we do with our
liquor?”
Drink it? No! For the council and nearly all
the leading citizens in Ocilla are Christian men—-
and Christians don’t believe in drinking liquor.
Sell it? Not much. For Ocilla’s conscience had
been awakened; the manhood of the community had
been stirred, and she had found that she could
educate her children and pay the interest on the
town bonds too, out of the heart and the purse
of the men who are fit to be fathers and citizens.
Give it away? Not a bit. For other communi
ties, other individuals, would suffer as Ocilla’s
sons had done. ‘
Keep it just to look at? NEVER! For John
Barleycorn as “a prisoner of war” is a dangerous
captive to have around. To begin with, his smell
is mal-odorous— at least to everybody whose
“smeller” has not been prostituted by the de
bauchery of his long-continued presence. And
then, his “evil eye” is keen and his tongue forked
and serpentine, and there be many who unwit
tingly become victims of the witchery of his wiles.
In the hellish bewilderment of his satanic laugh
the crystal ripple of human gladness and the sigh
ing sounds of human sorrow are drowned and lost
forever—while the WRETCH, prating of “LIB
ERTY” and defying the sacredness of LAW, car
ries, obscured beneath the red rose on his bosom,
the dark lantern of the assassin and the bomb of
the nihilist, ready to strike down the host that
entertains him and spatter every hearthstone in
the community with blood!
Ocilla knew all this. She knew that MR. DIS
PENSARY had deceiveed her, claiming where he
displaced her barrooms that he would “regulate”
and lessen the drink habit and fill the town treas
ury with imperative and untarnished gold. And
MR. DISPENSARY had been proven a liar! The
gold was not imperative in a community where
freemen lived and worked and reigned. And that
same gold was not untarnished, for parents had
seen their sons, sisters had seen their brothers,
maidens had seen their sweethearts, wives had seen
their husbands and children had seen their fathers
staggering under the influence of dispensary liquor
toward darkness, death and hell!
And Ocilla was determined not to forgive the
deceitful wretch. And so, under orders from the
city fathers, the marshal hauled the liquor down
to the branch just outside of town and poured
it in!
What a spectacle! Over it angels rejoiced and
demons hung their heads and wept—if demons ever
do!
We have only one fault to find with Ocilla’s
lawmakers—they ought to have had more respect
for the helpless minnows in the branch, and the
pigs and calves and cows down the stream!
But seriously, the home-loving prohibitionists of
the land will forgive Ocilla for this “wet” spot
under the shadow of her wing, because the children
of the town, educated on money unstained by hu
man blood, have received from their fathers the
tonic of a moral lesson which will be heard and
felt among their children’s children.
Thank the Lord for that one “wet” spot in
Ocilla!
The Mayor Who Did It.
Our hat is off to the man who does things for
the saving’ of home and the uplift of the commun
ity. The mayor of Lawrenceville, Georgia, sup
ported by a determined council, and backed by
loyal citizenry, has done something which so far
as we know, has never been done by any other
mayor in all the land. While many other splendid
communities are writhing under the avalanche of
jugs dumped daily in their midst by liquor men
and the express company, Lawrenceville rises up
and smashes the whole business by one brave blow.
And when the supreme court says “you can’t do
this under the circumstances,” Lawrenceville an
swers: “All right, then—we’ll just change the
‘ circumstances ’. ’ ’
And the man who led in this successful fight
deserves a place—the first place on every editorial
page, not only in Georgia, but in America.
The little editorial, “Plucky Lawrenceville,” in
the last issue of The Golden Age, has brought to
Hou. L. M. Brand, “the man who did it,” inqui
ries from anxious souls in many jug-cursed towns,
and Mr. Brand kindly gives the facts for the bene
fit of all who wish to know.
His letter follows:
Mr. W. D. Upshaw'", Atlanta, Ga.
Dear Sir: I have read your editorial in The
Golden Age on our Anti-Jug law, and for the bene
fit of your readers I will give you the present
status of the same.
We failed in the first effort to stop this jug
traffic, because we did not have specific authority
in our charter to pass the ordinance. We imme
diately amended our charter, which gives us spe
cific authority. (See Georgia Laws 1905.) Since
passing the last ordinance, which I enclose here
with, w’e have succeeded in making the ordinance
stick so far. The liquor people say our ordinance
is illegal, but so far they have not made any effort
to annul it. Thev sent their attornev to see us
and endeavored to have us repeal the ordinance,
but they got no encouragement, and we have heard
nothing from them since.
I think the next legislature will pass a general
law, giving the dry towns and counties authority
to stop this jug traffic. The Democratic party in
their convention held at Macon, Ga., last year,
passed a resolution to this effect. Besides, our
governor-elect, Hoke Smith, is pledged to support
this measure, and I am confident that he will see
that such a law is passed. In case it fails to
pass in the next legislature the best thing to do
is for the dry towns and cities to amend their
charter as we did ours.
Trusting that the legislature will relieve the
dry towms and cities of this traffic, I am,
Yours very truly,
L. M. BRAND.
Below is the ordinance, which speaks for itself:
“Be it ordained by the mayor and council of the
city of Lawrenceville, and it is hereby ordained
by authority of the same, that from and after the
passage of this ordinance it shall be unlawful for
any corporation, company, partnership, or any per
son or persons whomsoever, directly or indirectly,
to deliver or cause to be delivered within the cor
porate limits of the city of Lawrenceville any wine,
whiskey, beer, or other intoxicating liquors.
“For each and every violation of this ordinance
the offender shall be punished as prescribed in
ordinance No. 1 of the by-laws of said city.”
To paraphrase some familiar lines—
What Lawrenceville can do,
Why ? with bravery, may not you?