Newspaper Page Text
4
The Golden Age
Published Every Thursday by The Golden Age
Publishing Company (Inc.)
eFFICES: 13 MOORE BUILDING, ATLANTA, GA.
WILLIAM D. UPSHAW Editor
MRS. WM. D. UPSHAW .... Associate Editor
MRS. G. B. LINDSEY Managing Editor
LEN G. BROUGHTON, London, Eng. . Pulpit Editor
H. P. FITCH Field Editor
Price : $1.50 a Year.
In cases of foreign address fifty cents should be
added to cover additional postage.
Entered in the Postoffice in Atlanta, Ga., as second-class
matter.
MERCER’S NEW PRESIDENT.
The suspense of several weeks has been re
lieved by the announcement that the trustees
of Mercer University have
Dr. T. W. elected Dr. Thomas W. O’Kel
-o’Kelley Will ley. of Raleigh, N. C., as pres
“ Make Good” an d that he has accept
ed.
In the first place, the trustees of Mercer have
done wisely in selecting one of her own honor
ed sons as president. All things being equal,
we believe that the preference in such eases
should always be given to an alumnus of the
institution. If an institution of learning through
a long period of years cannot grow men strong
enough to be president, then the institution
itself is not worthy to live. In the next place,
Mercer has acted wisely in selecting a preach
er as president. The cases are rare when a
layman can make as good a president as the
right kind of a preacher.
We know some glorious exceptions, but ordi
narily a great preacher as president of a Chris
tian institution can better present to the public
the distinctive verities which make the Chris
tian school a necessity.
Dr. O’Kelley is a great preacher. His last
pastorate at the First Baptist church, Raleigh,
N. C., has been one of the most notably suc
cesful of his entire ministry.
A brilliant son of the mountains, a collea
gue of McConnell, Truett and Jameson,
1 ‘Tom” O’Kelley comes from sturdy stock —the
kind of men who make the pulpit luminous
and guide thg helm of state. But with all of
his superior attainments, Mercer’s new presi
dent is esentially “a man of the people,” and
building wisely on the solid foundation of
President Jameson, who went before him, we
predict that President 0 'Kelley will lead his
historic alma mater to higher heights of vic
tory than that great institution has ever
known.
KENTUCKY MAN LIKES IT.
Hardin Wilson, Louisville, Ky., says: Here
is a check for $1.50 to renew for The Golden
Age. I subscribed wh&i you lectured in Louis
ville last year on “John and His Hat,” and
I want to keep up with you because you are
not afraid to say what you think, even if it
does hurt the whiskey business.
Come back to Louisville and lecture and I
will help stir up the town and give you a big
crowd.
Remember—reading The Golden Age is the
•aly way to keep up with Dr. Broughton every
week Send $1.50 to pay for a full year’s vie
Us. Golden Age Pub. Co., 13 Moore Bldg.
Atlanta, Ga.
THE GOLDEN AGE FOR AUGUST 7, 1913
THE METROPOLIS IN NEW HANDS
How will the editorial chair of The Jack
sonville Metropolis look without the honored
Delightful William R. Carter sitting
there?
Memory of And how will the business
Editor Wm. R. office look without Rufus A.
Carter Russell “on the job?”
Twenty-six years ago these
stalwart young men—Carter a reporter, and
Russell a printer, started a little four-page
afternoon daily in Jacksonville. Wflth about
$1,200 (mostly borrowed) in their pockets, hon
est purpose in their hearts and dynamic en
eigj in their whole being, they began to win
fiom the very start. The other day they sold
The Metropolis to George A. McClelland, of
Indiana, for the handsome sum of $275,000, re
taining the building in which The Metropolis
is printed. The fact that these men have
wrought side by side with each other more
than a quarter of a century without a misun
derstanding or break of friendship, is a re
markable tribute to the manly manliness of
both. This fact is all the more remarkable
when it is remembered that Editor Carter and
Business Manager Russell differed personally
on the prohibition question. Mr. Russell was
a prohibitionist, and Mr. Carter was “agin it
on principle. ’ ’ So they agreed to disagree and
remain “neutral” as a newspaper, and as Edi
toi Carter is a gentleman by nature, training
and inclination, he was refreshingly fair to the
prohibition side in which he did not believe—
fair in the space given and fair in the kind of
reports published concerning prohibition
speeches and gatherings in “wet” Florida and
wetter Jacksonville. The editor of The Golden
Age is personally indebted to Editor Carter for
countless courtesies. Time and again we have
laughingly said: “Carter, Carter! You are too
nice a man to vote with the bar-room crowd.”
Then the eyes of The Metropolis editor would
flash fire as he answered:
I despise barrooms. I wish there wasn’t
one in the world, but I just don’t like the way
you prohibitionists go at it.”
And then with surpassing generosity he
would smile and say: “If all prohibition speak
ers were fair like you, Upshaw, I wouldn’t mind
being one.” Whereupon The Golden Age edi
tor would blush profusely, and he would pro
ceed to prod The Metropolis editor with the
inevitable dictum that the only way to get rid
of the barrooms which he so heartily abhorred
was to create sentiment by writing and speak
the kind of sentiment that would cause
real patriots and philanthropists to vote against
MIRACLES OF REDEMPTION AT
CARTERSVILLE.
(Cntinued from page 1.)
It seems almost profane to touch that sim
ple, sacred, marvelous message with reporter’s
pen or soulless type. Let me give you one
sentence —you can imagine the rest. He was
stressing the necessity of personal acquaint
ance with Christ when he said: “Jesus died
for me. When a soul first realizes that—when
a redeemed soul continues to realize that, it is
like all the flowers of earth blooming in one
beautiful bouquet—it is like all the jewels of
earth shining in one wonderful gem—it is like
all the music of earth singing itself in one mar
velous heavenly song—it is like all the morn
ings of earth breaking into one glorious sun
irse!”
A Boy’s Arms Around His Neck.
At the conclusion of Gypsp Smith’s first ser-
barrooms from now till the judgment day.
And then Editor Carter would whirl around
in his easy chair and say:
“I will see you later. Come to see me, Up
shaw, every time you come to town.”
And this Georgia editor is going to miss such
cordial fellowship when he goes to “sporty”
J acksonville.
Here’s hoping that the new editor of The
Metropolis will catch the fallen mantle of the
departing editor when it comes to giving pro
hibition sentiment a square deal and making
a visiting brother-editor feel at
One Step home. And we hope he will go
Further one step further —that he will see
the indefensible folly of writ
ing beautiful platitudes on the editorial page
about home and youth and citizenship and car
rying in the same issue a sword in the shape of
a whiskey “ad” with which to strike the home
and the citizen down. And it looks like he
means to do that very thing. Just read this
statement on the front page of The Metropolis:
“We expect to run a clean newspaper. Be
ing largely a home paper, it is our intention
that nothing shall ever apppear
or in its columns that any man
McClelland would object to his wife and
Tabooes daughter reading. Vicious and
“Vicious objectionable advertisements in
Advertising.” le u^ure be excluded
from our columns, and con
tracts for this class of advertising now in force
will not be renewed. In fact, in the advertising
columns, as well as in the news, we will ever
be found protecting the interests of the read
ing public.
As far as what is called political advertising
is concerned, we will not insert a paid politi
cal advertisement in the reading columns with
or without marks. If the subject matter is of
public interest, it will be published without
pay. If it is not of public interest, it will not
be published at all.”
“Good boy!” Very, very good, Brother Ed
itor, that has the genuine ring about it. Ver
ily, a barroom in a home or next door to a
home or even next block to a home, would be
“vicious and objectionable.” Then a whiskey
drummer in a home (and that’s what a whis
key “ad” is) would be “vicious and objec
tionable advertising.”
We see no whiskey “ads” in The Metropo
lis. We hope there will never be.
And the real home-lovers in Florida and far
beyond her borders will heartily rejoice.
mon, I joined the throng that sought his ready
hand, and when I got to him I found a twelve
year-old boy with his clinging arms about his
neck. It was little Robin Gilreath, son of the
beloved and lamented Lem Gilgreath. who re
cently went to heaven on the bosom of his
evangelistic songs. The song with which Gypsy
Smith had closed his sermon and the gentle,
tenderness of the man had drawn the little
fatherless boy to the great preacher’s arms;
and that night after his searching sermon on
“The Lost Christ,” and there were several pro
fessions of conversion, I found a grown young
man with his arms, too, around Gypsy Smith’s
neck, declaring in tears that he had accepted
Christ with his whole heart.
Such was Gypsy Smith’s first day at the Sam
Jones Tabernacle. It was enough—quite
enough— to pay for his coming four thousand
(Continued on page 5.)