Newspaper Page Text
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HERALD.
W. 1. BEWS AND JAMES D. RUSS, Editors.
LET THERE BE LIGHT.’
SUBSCRIPTION: $1.50, la Muss
VOLUME X.
BUTLER, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JUNE 15, 1886.
NUMBER 32.
A Mew York oleomargarine factory
boasts that it employs ths highest talent
in its laboratory, having secured the
services of the French chemist who
bleached the famous sacred elephant. A
man who can counterfeit an elephant
ought to do fairly well in counterfeiting
butter.
Eliza Ilarncy, an old pensioner of
Trinity church, Pittsburg, who died re
cently, was supposed to be penniless,
but it was found she had $1000 in the
Dollar Savings Bank. Her only son,
■ just before going to the war, purchased
for his mother 100 bushels of coal. She
received word that he had been killed in
one of the first battles of the war. From
that moment she would not burn any of
the coal, even in the most severe weather,
but guarded it religiously in tha cellar
to the day of her death.
“House sense" is well illustrated in
the way that some of them perform their
duties on the top floors of New York
warehouses, where other power is not
available, in the work of hoistingOgoods
to the different floors. In one case a
horse has thus been kept at the top of a
high warehouse for eleven years, without
having been down to terra firma but
twice in the whole time. The horses art
directed when to pull and when to stop,
pulling by the sound of the check rope
when shaken from below, to which they
invariably give a prompt attention that
might well be imitated by many workers
in a higher field, but otherwise they are
always left to themselves.
Felicity. v
The eat sang ou the back-yard fence, y ”
Whence ail but she had fled; t '
I seized my stock of common-sense V
And flung it at her head;
I flung my best habiiamenta
My chair, my feather-bed;
Yet still, with passion quite intense, g
With strange contorted lineaments,
That cat s.uig on the bock-yard fence.
Whence all but she hod fled.
I spoke with strange grandiloquence,
In coaxing tones I plead;
My boots were gone—my, last--defense—
My Sunday hose hod sped;
All things or petty or immense
Found lodgement on tile shod.
The feline wondered much from whence
They came; but still, with grief intense,
She sang upon the bock-yard fence,
Whence all but she had fled.
She roused two other residents—
I oft had wished them dead,
For they were music-loving "gents,"
And dwelt above my head.
They seized their s triuged instruments.
Which Stood hard by their bed—
They played with wondrous eloquence—
With one vast howl of pain intense
That feline fiod afar from thence:
She sings no more upon our fence,
But on a loftier eminence—
Our next-door rwighbor’s shed.
A', Frank Lintaber in Puck.
One Charles Smith, who has been im
posing on the credulity of the people ol
Central and Southern Missouri by organ
izing secret religious lodges under tht
pretense of having visions and the gift
of prophecy, lias'' been arrested slid
placed in jail at Warrcnsburg. The
“Star of Heaven,” the high-sounding
title of the religious order Smith has
founded, and which lie claimed was to
be the fore-runner of the millennium, has
been joined by great numbers of dupe*
who have been led to believe that they
will never see either death or sickness.
Branches of the order have been estab
lished in a half-dozen counties of the
state, and it is said that lie has managed
to fleece his followers out of considerable
money.
WE MET BY CHANCE.
A Burmese gun belonging to ex-King
Theebaw, which is shortly to be sent to
the Queen, was regarded as an oracle by
the dethroned monarch. The cannon is
about the size of an c’.glitecn-poundcr,
and is probably made of bronze, hut it
is now gilded, and stands ou a gilt car
riage under a gilded dome. When going
to war Theebaw always consulted the gun
under the auspices of a phoongyee oi
priest, who poured a bottle of wine into
the mouth of the piece. If the King
was to be victorious, the gun would re
tain the wine; if lie was to be defeated,
the wine would be returned. When war
was imminent with England, Theebaw
duly consulted his oracle, but to his hor
ror, the gun cast forth the wine at once,
the alarmed phoongyee—who probably
I was going to Nice for the carnival.
Only one other person was in the coupe,
with me—a still, magisterial appearing
man, whose only baggage was a portfolio.
Just as the train was siarting sounds of a.
dispute arose at the door of my coupe.
“No, sir! nod" said a woman’s voice.
“I ordered a coupe-lit, and I must have it!”
“But, Madam, since wc have none ”
‘ ‘You ought to lsavc heeded my letter!”
“Wc received no letter, Madam!”
“Make them add another car, then!”
“Impossible! We have the regular num
ber. Come, come, hasten—the train is
going!”
“But I must have some place.”
“There, in that coupe.”
“There?”
“Yes, there!”
A little brown head was'thrust in and
suddenly withdrawn, as if 1 frightened.
“There arc two gentlemen there!”
“Eh, madam, I cannot give you a car
to yourself!”
“Very well, Twill not go!”
“As you please! The train leaves! I
give the signal!”
“Stop, sir, stop! T am obliged to go—
and since there is only that coupe—but
they will give me a coupe-lit at the first
station?”
“Yes, madam—yes, madam.”
“You will telegraplufor that?”
“Yes, madam—yes, madam.”
The door opened,the little brown head
entered, surrounded with bundles and
w raps. There was a piercing whistle; we
had started. The stiff genflleman gallantly
took a seat by me,leavingiall one side free
for the new arrival. Without glancing at
us,breathless and crimson>witli wrath,she
arranged her things as if for a long jour
ney—one bag, two bags, three bags, and
cloaks and shawls. I looked on out of the
corner of my eye, and saw with pleasure
that she was charming in appearance. At
Laroche the stiff man arranged his papers
had an inkling how little chance his j ., Jul , eit us He was received by the depot
master ran of success-declaring that a j magter as < OIonsieur lTnspector.” The
n,!t or spn-d was at work. j ]ady rushed to the door.
Did they telegraph from Paris for a
The idea is general that a very long
time is necessary to develop a nation.
Byron informs us that “a thousand years
scarce serves to form a state.” Still, if
the statements of a Scotchman residing
at Nukualofa, Tonga islands, be true, a
nation “with all the modern improve
ments” lias been created there in the
short space of twenty-five years, chiefly
by the exertions of one individual. This
gentleman writes to the Glasgow Ilerahl
that there arc now living on the Tonga
islands, which are situated in the South
Pacific ocean, about a thousand miles
northeast of New Zealand, persons who,
in their childhood, ate human flesh.
Less than a century ago most of the peo
ple were cannibals, while all of them
were savage, cruel and degraded. To
day the people are peaceable, industrious,
refined and generally well educated.
They owe tlicir conversion and present
enlightenment to the missionaries.
Some curious facts arc presented in a
communication from Secretary Whitney
to the house in response to a resolution
asking for a iist of officers on tlie retired
list of the navy, the relative rank of each
officer, the date of his retirement, annual
pay, and reasons for retirement. It ap
pears that there arc 49 rear admirals, who
have received pay at $4500 to $5750 a
year for from one to 22 years. Then
there arc 15 commodores at from $2025
to $3750 a year, 11 captains at from $000
coupe-Utl”
“Yes, Madam, I sent the dispatch on.”
“What! I cannot have it at once?"
“Impossible, Madam. We have no cars
here. They will give you one at I.yon
Perrache.”
“Not till then? But I cannot stay here
all that time—it is impossible. I will
not ■”
“Take a care, Madam—the train is
| starting.”
! The cars were in motion. She returned
: to her corner, furious, never glancing my
! way. I opened my tenth newspaper.
I Shall I own it—it occupied me longer than
! the nine before it. I read the same lines
I twenty times. 1 believe I held it sometimes
upside down. I wanted to talk with her,
but where was the pretext? Considering
tlie temperature the classic resource of rais
ing or lowering windows did not exist.
What could I do? I saw she wasa woman
of the world and of the best class. I could
j only attract her notice by some very origi-
i nal speech. But wliat—what? I meditated
| in vain. I was still studying tlie point
when the train stopped. “Tonnerre!
Twenty-five minutes for refreshments!”
was shouted at the door.
My fair neighbor rose, dropped her
wraps and left the ear. It was noon.
Hunger made itself felt. She went toward
the refreshment room. I followed. I
could then admire nHny case her elegant
figure, distinctly outlined by a long otter
cloak. I also remarked that she had
to $3375, 11 commanders at from $900 to
$2G25, 19 lieutenant commanders at from pretty curls in her neck, a gray felt hat
$700 to $2250, 25 lieutenants at from 1 and very small feet.
$900 to $1950, 10 junior lieutenants at
from $900 to $1500, 9 ensigns at from
$300 to $1050, and several printed pages
of medical and pay officers, engineers,
I quickly swallowed several things. My
fair traveler took a bowl of soup. The
time soon passed, and the travelers raced
back to their cars. I went to mine. The
chaplains, professors of mathematics, j ] a dy had not come. I saw her at a little
boatswains, gunners, carpenters, and
sailmakers. Some of these officers have
been retired for the reason that they have
reached 62 years of age; others because
they have had 45 years of service, and
others still because of physical incapaci
ty, tim result of an incident, of the ser
vice. Others, however, have found a
place because they were not recommend
ed f or promotion, for the reason that
their professional fitness was not estab
lished to the satisfaction of the examin-
ing board; ^“mental incapacity,” be
cause they were decided by the examin
ing board.vs r.ot possessing “mental, moral
and professional fitness;” for physical
Qatal incapacity, not the result of
book and newspaper stand, looking at
the row of books. Although I saw only
her back I recognized her pretty figure,
her otter cloak and her gray hat. Her hair
did not look so dark tome—doubtless the
effect of distance. Everybody was on
board; doors were slamming.
“She will miss her train,” I thought,
and then I called to her from the win
dow: “Madam! Madam!”
I was too far away. She did not hear.
The whistle sounded; the train was start
ing. What should be done? An idea flash
ed through my head. She was going tu
remain there, in this horribly coldweath
er, without any baggage. The .poor little
woman must have her things. I snatched
three bags, and all^Afer shawls and
lolc out to a man
“Give them to that lady over there,”
I cried.
The man caught the things,, and ! went
toward the lady at the bookstall. At the
same moment, from the otbenside*of the
train, came my pretty companion in great
perturbation, hustled by a grumbling offi
cial, but safely oa board, just !as the train
moved off. Ilorror! I had mistaken the
lady traveler; the one at the ^book-stand
was not the right one—same cloak, same
hat, same outlines, but not th*i same wo
man! She had scarcely entered the car
when she uttered a cry:
1 ‘My things! Some one has (stolen my
things!”
For the first time she looked: at me—
with what an eye! I shall never forget
that look. “No, Madam,” I sai d, “your
things are not stolen; they are—they are
left at Tonnerre!”
“At Tounerre! IIow?”
I explained everything. Bless me! I
could never describe the second look she
gave me—but I believe I shall remember
it longer than the first one.
“Iam very sorry, Madam, "Lstammered.
“I am greatly distressed, but the motive
was good. I thought you would miss the
train, and you would be cold, and I did not
wantyou tosuffer. Pardon me—don’t fear
for your things. They are in honest hands
—a railway official. At the next station
you can telegraph—I shall telegraph—we
will telegraph—we will soon get them. Ah!
you shall have them! I swear it, if I have
to return myself to Tonnerre to get them.”
“That is sufficient, sir,” she said. “I
know what I must do.”
She sat down, severely twisting her
gloves in wrath. But alas! poor little
thing! She had reckoned without the cold.
She no longer had her good warm wraps.
It was scarcely ten minutes before she
began to shiver. She shrank into her
self, drew her otter cloak around her fine
form and positively shook.
“Madam,” I said, “I beg upon my
knees that you will accept my shawl!
You will take a cold; it will he my fault,
and I could never console myself in all
my life.”
“I do not speak to you, sir,” she said,
haughtly.
I was furious at having made myself
ridiculous. “Madam,” said I, “accept
this shawl, cr I swear I will jump off the
train!”
Throwiug the shawl between us I'
seized the door-knob. My air must have
been convincing, for she cried:
“You are crazy, sir—you are out of
your head!”
“Take the shawl—or I shall spring off!"
She took the shawl, saying: “But
you, sir, you will perish from the cold.”
“Don’t be uucasv about me, madam.
I am not delicate, and even if I should
be cold it would only bo a just punish
ment for my unpardonable stupidity.”
“Say for your too great haste, for you
are right—the intention was good, but
how could you take that lady for me?”
“Because she looked so charming.”
She smiled; the ice was broken—the
ice of conversation, for otherwise I shiv
ered. But how quickly I forgot the cold,
the journey and all! She was delicious,
exquisite, adorable! Dainty, peculiar,
gay and original! She loved travel as I
do. She had been in Ituly, like me; in
Spain, like me; she always dreamed of
going to Egypt, like me. In literature,
in music, in every way our tastes were
the same. And then, just imagine—lots
of the same friends. Perhaps I had met
her twenty times without remarking her.
Where was my head? Heavens! where
was my head? While I eagerly conversed
I did everything in the world not to
have tho air of being chilly, but good
Lord! how cold I was! At Dijon my
right fbot was numb. We telegrapbod
to Tonnerre for her things. At Macon
my left foot was numb. Wc heard from
Tonnerre that her things would be »t
Marseilles next day. At Lyon-Perrachc
my left band became insensible. She
forgot to claim her coupe-lit. At Valence
my right hand followed the example of
the left. I learned that she was a widow,
without children. At Avignon my nose
turned purple. I thought I understood
that she had never loved her til'st hus
band. At last, at Marseilles, I sneezed
violently three times. She handed me
my shawl, saying graciously: “Good-bye,
till wo meet again.”
‘Till we meet again!” I was wild. I
passed the night in a hotel, and rose in
the morning suffering from a terrible cold
in the head, Ought I, in such, a state,
to call on my friends, the Rombauds?
They must take me as I am, and to-mor
row I will start for Nice and cure myself
in sunshine. Wliat a surprise! That
excellent Rombaurd had invited some
people to meet mo, and among them was
my fellow-traveler, my charmer! When
I was presented there was an impercepti
ble smile on her lips. I bowed and mur
mured: “And Tonnerre?” “I have
them,” she answered, in tlie same low
voice.
We took our seats at the dinner table.
“What a cold, my goodness!” ex
claimed that excellent Rombaud.
“Where in the world did you catch such
a cold? In the cars, perhaps?”
“It is possible,” I replied, “but really
I do net regret it.”
Nobody understood this queer response,
but I felt the sweet and compassionate
gaze of my lovely traveling companion
coming to me across the ordorous fumes
of a superb soup.
What more shall I say? Next day I
did net go to Nice—and wc are to be
married in two weeks!—From the French
Fortunes Made in Old Corks.
“You wouldn’t think a man could
make a fortune selling old corks and bot
tles, would you? Well, I know a man
who bought out a coffin shop twenty-five
years ago and began to deal in old corks.
Eight years ago he went into the old bot
tle business, and he is now n rich man."
The policeman who said this took the
writer down Mulberry street, and a few
blocks below Bleecker stopped before a
rickety old building, in front of which
stood several barrels filled with bottles of
all sizes. There were bottles emptied of
Vino Vermouth, Piper See and Rhine
wine, of Bass’ ale, claret aDd stomach
bitters. Inside the shop were seen the
necks of a thousand bottles, pointed
toward the door like little howitzers.
They were piled up and boxed up and
were in rows on the floor. From the roof
hung dingy demijohns, covered with
cobwebs, and in the center of the room
was a barrel of old champagne corks.
“How many corks have you sold to.
day, Hugh?” asked the policeman.
“Eight barrels.”
“How many bottles?”
“Seventy-five gross. You see we never
take the labels off, and never wash the
bottles. Tho men who buy wine bottles
want the labels as well as tl-.e bottles—
sometimes want the labels much more
than the bottles; but wc do not deal in
labels. When a junkman comes in with
a load of bottles lie may have twenty
different kinds. Wc sort them. When
wc get a gross of a certain kind wc know
where to sell them. A gross of quart
champagne bottles fetches $4.50; pints,
$2.25. Claret bottles sell for $3.75 per
;ross, and so do soda water bottles.
Bass’ale is worth $2.25, but for Rhino
wine bottles we get $0 per gross. ‘ ‘Tom”
gins and stomach bitters go at $4; porter
and Vino Vermouth at $2.25. Apoilina-
ris, quarts, we sell for $5 per gross, and
pints at $3.25. A gallon demijohn is
only worth 20 cents, but larger beer bot
tles with the patent stoppers bring $3
per gross. Root beer bottles sell for $G,
while ginger ales only fetch $1.50. We
sell Hulliorn, Congress and Geyser bot
tles back to tlie mineral spring men in
Saratoga for 30 cents per dozen. Most
of the small bottles arc bought by catsup
and table sauce makers. We don’t buy
medicine bottles. We sell very little
stock to medicine men.
“You know a champagne cork lias a
sound head and is turned from tlie bark.
It is not cut out as straight codes are
made. When it pops from the bottle the
head is cut up by the string and tlie cork
looks like a mushroom. We put them
all in a big kettle of boiling water and
swell them. Then they’re as good as
new. Ordinary sound corks sell for
twenty-five cents per gross, but corks
from champagne bottles, made with more
labor, bring $2.50. Wc have handled
enough corks in the past twenty-five
years to float the Great Eastern. ”—New
York Sun.
DR. TALMADGE’S SERMON.
SHALL WE HAVE ANARCHY AND
REBELION IN AMERICA?
Text: “Tho earth was without form and
void, and darkness was upon the face of the
deep, and tho spirit of God moved upon the
face of tho waters.”—Genesis i. 2k
Out in space there hung a great chunk of
rock and mud and sand and shell, thousands
of miles in diameter, more thousands of miles
in circumference, a great mass of ugliness,
Confusion, distortion, uselessness, ghastliness
and hGrror. It seemed like some great com
mons on which mashc d-up worlds had been
dumped. Poetry and prose, scientist and
Christian, all agree in calling it chaos. That
was tha ugly, unshapely :ogg out of which
our Isautitul world was
hatched. God
bent o rer that anger and turmoil of elements
andhesaid: “Atlantic Ocean, you go away
and LA down there. Pacific Ocean, you go
and sleep there. Blount Washington, you
stand sentinel here. Mont Bianc, you put
on your coronet of crystal there. Mississippi,
you march there, and Missouri, you marry it
there.” God took up iu His almighty arms
the rock and the mud and the sand and the
shell and Ho Leave! it and He rolled it and
He indented it and He divided it, and He
compressed it into shape, and then He dropped
it in four different places, and the one de
posit was Europe, and another deposit was
Asia, and another deposit was Africa, and
the fourth deposit was America, North
and South. In other words, “the spirit of
God moved upon the face of tho waters.”
Well, now, that original chaos was a type of
the anarchy into which Society is ever and
anon tempted to pltmgo. God said: “Let
there be light of order, light of law, light of
sympathy, light of Justice, light of love.” An
anarchical voira sniri- “Nr* nn • Inf. t.hara
anarchical voice said: “No,“no; lot there be
darkness, let there bo cutthroatory, let there,
be eternal* imbroglio, let there be chaos.”
That social confusion, that moral chaos is the
condition into which a great many supposed
our land was to be pluugcd because of tho
overhanging contest between Capital and
Labor. During the past three months, aye
during tho last live years, the in
telligent people of this country have been
ftskin?! “Aro irnintT tr» Tmvn nnarafv ocl
asking: “Are we going to have anarchy and
bloody revolution in America V’ Thousands
of voices have answered in tho affirmative,
I answer this morning in the negative. There
may be, as there have been, outbursts of pop
ular frenzy, but there will be no anarchy, for
the Church of Christ, the grandest and
mightiest institution on earth, will come cut
in the name of the Eternal God, and putting
»ne hand on the shoulder of Capital and
he other hand on the shoulder of Labor,
will say: “I come out in the name of the
God who turned chaos into order to settle
this dispute by the principle of jus-
“Kxcelsior.”
Many admirers of Longfellow will be
interested to learn that tlie idea of this
popular poem was suggested to the
author by the lofty sentiments contained
in a letter which lie received from his
friend Charles Sumner. In a letter which
the poet himself wrote to another of his
friends, Mr. C. K. Tuckerman, he tells
how this idea was developed in his
mind; and be gives in plain prose, the
intended lesson of the piece:
The hero passes through the Alpin6
village, through the rough, cold paths of
the world, where the peasants cannot un
derstand him, and where his watchword
is in an > “unknown tongue.” He disre
gards the happiness of domestic peace,
and sees the glacier, liis fate, before him.
He disregards the warning of tlie old
man’s wisdom and the fascination of
woman’s love. He answers to all,
“Higher yet !"
The monks of St. Bernard are the
representatives of religious forms and
ceremonies, and with thero oft-repeated
prayer mingles the sound of his voice
telling them there is something higher
than forms and ceremonies. Filled with
these aspirations, he perishes without
having reached the perfection lie longed
for; and the voice heard in the air is the
promise of immortality and progress evor
upward.
mand that you take your hands off of
each other’s throats.” The Church of God is
the only impartial institution on this subject,
for it has within its borders capitalists and
laborers,and it was founded by the Christ who
was a carpenter, and therefore has a right to
speak for all laborers; and who owns this
world and tho solar system and the universe
and has, therefore, a right to speak for capi
talists. As an individual I have a right to
be heard on the labor question. My father
was a farmer and my grandfather was a
farmer and they toilod for a living. I have
not a dollar in the world that I did
not. earn by tho sweat of my
brow and I owe no man anything.
If I have forgotten any obligation, and you
will meet me at the foot of the pulpit when I
come down, I will settle it on tho spot. I pur
pose to say all I have thought or felt on this
subject, and without any reservation, and I
only ask of you that you pray God that I
may be divinely directed in this impartial
senes of babbath morning discourses; and I
also ask that you recei ve what I have to say
in silence, and without either approval or
disapprobation in sound. When I say there
will be no anarchy in this . country I
do not Want you to think that I under
estimate the awful peril of this hour. The
tendency has been toward chaos and toward
anarchy. Excited throngs causing disturb
ances in nearly all our great cities; rail
trains hurled over tho rocks; workmen
beaten to death in tho presence of their wive:
and children; faithful policemen exhausted
by vigilance by clay and vigilance by night;
in some cities the military called cut; thou
sands of peojile asking; “Whatnext?’
A great earthquake with oue hand has
taken hold of this continent at, the Pa
cific beach, and with the othor hand has
taken hold of the continent at the At
lantic beach, and lias shaken it, and
all agricultural and manufacturing and com
mercial and literary ami artistic and moral
aud religious interests have been mightily
shaken. I look across the water and I And
It is estimated that 50,000 conversa
tions take place over the wires in New
York every twenty-four hours. For each
message there must be at least five “hel
los,” which would make 250,000 “hellos”
going over the wires daily.
Blunting the Feelings.
“Curious how one’s feelings get blunt
ed by the sight of blood and horrors,”
says Sir G’has. Wilson, in his new narra
tive of the Nile expedition. “There was
one strange incident. An uuwounded
Arab, armed with a spear, jumped up
and charged an officer. The officer
grasped the spear with his left hand, and
with his right ran liis sword through the
Arab’s body; and there for a few seconds
they stood, the officer being unable to
withdraw his sword until a man ran jup
and shot the Arab. It was a living em
bodiment of one of the old gladiatorial
frescoes of Pompeii. It did not, strange
to say, seem horrible; rather, after what
had passed, an every-day occurrence. I
used to wonder before how the Romans
could look on at the gladiatorial fights;
I do so no longer.”
Ho Knew Wliat He Was About.
Brown—I say, Smith, what’s the at
traction up this way? I see you passing
quite frequently.
Smith—Ye3, six nights in tho week,
and twice on Sunday. There’s a lady in
the case, old man.
Brown—Ah, ha! I see. But six nights
in the week and twice on Sunday is
rather thick, isn’t it? I found that twice
a week was—
Smith—Yes, but you married a young
lady. I’m courting a_ widow. I know
wha^ I’m about, old man.—ffew lorh
■V ■: -
part of Belgium one great mob. Russia and
Germany and Austria kcoping the people
quiet by standing armies that are eating the
life of those nations. Ireland at peace
to-day only because it anticipate 4II mie Buie
and the triumph of (-ladstoneism. The quar
rel between Capital aa.l Labor ishemisphe: ie,
aye, it is world-wide, and overy man must
admit, that tho tendency has been to
ward Anarchy. Now, my friends,
one way in which we a:e to avoid anarchy is
to let tho people know what anarchy is.
Show us tlie hole that we may sfc r er clear of
it. Anarchy is the abc I tic n of all righls of
property. It is every man’s hand against
every other man. It is making your- house,
your ftore, your h mo t e tote, ycur homo,
your family mine—aud mine yours. It is
arson, rapine, murder, lust and dea-h tri-
umr h int. It is hell let loose on earth, and
society a combination of devils incarnate.
It is the overthrow of everything goxl, and
it is the coronation < f everything infamous.
It means no law no rights, no de
fence, no family, no church, no peace, n»
happiness and no God. That is anarchy.
Now, who v.ants it i:i this country.' 1 et us
look at the old dragon. Let me tike ouo
square and scrutinizing look at him before we
allow him to \ ut his foot on this continent.
The peoplo want to know what anarchy fs,
aud then they will rise up, all the good j co-
plecf the United States, and in conjunction
with tho officers of the law, city officers, stn*e
officers, national officers, we shall com
mand peace, and ha\o poa'o naive sol, and
peare all the t-imo. Within sir months
there will in 1h:< country be a tetter
state of feeling between Capital r. d Lab r
than there ever has been, because they ..uve
learned as never before, they have had it
demonstrated that they are absolutely de
pendent on each other. Meanwhile I givo
three words of advice to the laboring classes
of America so far as my words may reach
them. My first word of brotherly counsel
to laborers is to those who have work now.
Stick to it. Do not under the turmoil
of the present excitement givo up
your emplojnnent with the idea that
something better will turn up. Because
you do not like the liue of steamers on which
you sail, do not jump overboard iu the mid
dle of the Atlantic (Lean. Those railroad
men, those mechanics, there carpenters,
those masons, those clerks in stores, those
employes iu all styles of business who give
up their work, probably give it up for star
vation. I would fay to this class of laborers
who have work, not only stick to it iu these
times of excitement, but make this change:
Go a little earlier to your place of
work and do your work better than
you ever have done it before,
with more intensity and more earnestness.
Let additional assiduity characterize you.
That is inv first word of advice to those who
have work. My second word of advice is to
those who have had work but have resigned
it. The best thing for you, and the best thing
for everybody is to go back immediately. Do
not wait to see what others will do. You
get on board the train of national prosperity
before it starts, for start it. will, and start
soon, aud start mightily. We have a report
of the strikes of ” last year, which
says there were forty-five general
strikes in tha State of New York; 177 shop
strikes; successful strikes, ninety-seven;
strikes lost, thirty-four; strikes pending at
the time the statistics were made, fifty-nine;
strikes compromised, thirty-two. So that
we havo enough facts before us to philoso
phize a little and to make up a good opinion.
Now, do you want to know who of all the
laborers will make tho most out of these
strikes? I can tell jou, and I wi.l tell you.
The laborers who will make the most out of
these strikes will be the laborers who go to
work first. My third word of brotherly
counsel for the laboring men c?
this country is to that class ot
men who have for months and perhaps for
years been unable to get work. Before this
great trouble began thero were near] y 2,000,-
000 out of employment in the United >States.
1 have been busy much of the time
Ibe r«ast ten years in trying to get people
work, and so have men in all communities
and professions. The one business has keen
to help other people get work and you and I
can hardly tell how many letters of commen
dation we have written, such as: “Give
this man work in your store,
in your factoryj in your foundry;
I khow him, I know him to be an industrious
inan; his family are starving to death; give
him a place; I’ll take it as a personal favor
if you will help this man into some kind of
business where he can support his family.”
There is hardly a respectable man in this
house who has not written such a letter as
that. Nigh two million. Now, my advice
•o those nigh two million is that for the sup
port of themselves and their families, they
go up and take the vacated places. Nearly
two million strong. That is my sentiment.
Full liberty for all men to strike who want to
strike, and full liberty for all who
want to tako their places. (Applause.) Hush!
You will be green hands for a while, but you
will not begreoa hands long. For those who
have resigned their places perhaps other oc
cupations will open, for we are just openin;
the outside door of this continent. This con
tinent can support eight hundred million peo
ple, and there is room in this country so that
every man shall have a livelihood, a home
and a God. So you see, while some
are in depair about tho times, I am
not scared a bit. This tempest is
g oing to be hushed and Christ is going
) put His foot on it os He did on agitated
Galilee. As at the beginning, chaos is going
to turn into beautiful order as the spirit of
God moves upon the face of the waters. But
here is a word that I would like to say in the
hearing of the American people, especially in
the hearing of those who toil with hand and
foot. Your first step toward light, and to
ward the betterment of your condition, oh,
workmen of America, is in your assertion of
yotlr personal independence from all dicta
tion of other workmen. You are free
men. We fought to get our freedom
here in America. You are free men. Let
no man or organization come between you
and your personal rights. Let no organiza
tion tell you where you shall work, where
you shall not work ; when you shall work,
when you shall not work. If a man wants to
belong to a labor organization let him have
full lioerty to do so. If a man wants to stay
out of a labor organization let him bo just as
free to stay out. You are your own master.
Let no man put a manaclo on your wrist,
or on your heart. I belong to a labor or
ganization, a ministerial association, that
meets once a week. I love all the members.
We can help each other in a hundred ways.
But when tnat ministerial association shall
come and tell me to quit work here because
some brother minister has b?en badly treated
in Texas (Laughter), I will tell that minis
terial association :“G et thee behind me, Sat an.’
(Laughter). I may have a right to leave my
work hero; for some reason I may say to
this people: “I am done, I will work for you
no longer; good bye, I am going.’ But I
have no right Sunday mornings and
Sunday nights to linger around the
door of this church "with a shotgun
bo intimidate the man who comes to take my
E lace. I may leave my work here and still
e a gentleman; but wlTen I attempt to inter
fere with tho man who comes to take my
placo then I become a criminal,and I deserve
nothing better than the thin soup in a tin
bowl in Sing Sing Penitentiary. There is one
thought that I wish every newspaper man in
America would put at the head of a column,
and which every laborer would put in his
memorandum book and paste in his hat—
the fact that there are in tho United
States 12,000,000 earners of wages.
There "are about 600,000 of them that belong
to labor organizations of various style 5. My
theory is, let the 000,000 who belong to the
organizations do as they please. Let tho 11,-
400,000, who do not belong to labor organiza
tions, do as they please* But there is no law
of God or man, or common sense, or common
justice that will allow GOO,000 men, ■who do
belong to labor organizations, to dictate to
11,400.000 men who do not belong to them.
Freedom for those inside organizations.
Freedom for those outside. Now, when
we shall emerge from this present unhappi
ness, as we shall emerge, Labor and Capital
will march shoulder to shoulder, and they
will have broken some tyrannies that need
to bo broken. Labor in this country has two
tyrannies to break—the capitalistic tyranny
and the tyranny of fellow workmen;; aud
when American labor can do that it will be
free. Mr. Powderly is right and Mr. Irons
is wrong. The old teut maker had it right
—I mean Paul—when he said: “The eye
cannot say to the hand, I have no need
of the?.” That is one of tho most skillfully
put things I ever read, by the old tent
maker. “The eye cannot say to the hand, I
have no need of thee.” What if the eye should
say: “If thero is aught I despise, it is those
four fingers and a thumb; Tcau’t bear the
sight of you; you are of no use anyhow'; get
out of my way?” Suppose the hand should
say to the eye: “I am boss workman; you
couldn’t get along without me; if there is
anything I despise, it is the eye seated under
the dome of tho forehead doing nothing but
look.” Oh, you silly eye, how soon you
wou’d swim in death if the hand did
not support you. Oh, you silly hand, how
soon you would be fumbling.round in the
darkness if the eye did not give you a lantern.
That is the first thing to be understood in
this country— that Laborand Capital are ab
solutely, entirely dependent on "each other.
You go into a large factory. A thousand
wheels, a thousand bands, a thousand levers,
a thousand pulleys, aud all controlled by one
great water wheel, but all tho parts
of tho machinery in some wav re
lated to all tho other parts. That is
human society. A thousand wheels, a thou
sand lovers, a thousand pullies, all controlled
by the wheel of divine providence, but all
the parts related to each other. Dives can
not kick Lazarus without hurting his own
foot. They cannot throw Sbadrach into a
furnaco without getting their own faces
scorched and blackened. That which smites
Capital smites Labor, and vice versa. Point
back into history and wherever you find
Capital largely prosperous you find wages
large; wherever you find wages large you
find Capital prosperous. IVhen Capital de
nounces Labor it is tho eye cursing the
hand. When Labor denounces Capital it is
the hand cursing the eye. The Capitalists
of this country are for the most part success
ful laborers, aud among all the styles of
work and in all the shops you will find men
who wore capitali ts. In other words, they
are all the time crossing over. Men who are
capitalists are becoming laborers, and men
who ure laborers are becoming capitalists.
dead. So they are all the time crossing
over. Do you kuow who will be the million
aires of the twentieth century? They are. in
this last fourteen years of the nineteenth
century,with foot ou the sbutt’e, hand on the
pickaxe, or doing some kind of hard manual
work. Do you kuow out of that class arc
coming the poets, the orators, the philan
thropic ists of tho world? Henry Clay, tho
Demosthenes of tho American Senate, Was
the mill boy of tho Slashes; Hugh Miiler, a
quarrymau at Crcmartic, Scotland; Colum
bus, a weaver; Arkwright, a barber: Haw
ley, a soap boiler; Bloomfield, the glorious
theologian, a shoemaker: and Horace Greely
started life in New York with $10.75 in his
pocket. They are crossing over—
tho laborer to become tho capitalist*
and tho capitalist to become the,
laborer, and 11 his da}' wave a flag of truce be
tween them. Thero is going to bo vast im
provement in affairs when we shall realize
that the old tent maker was right when he
said: “Ths eye cannot say to the hand I have
no need of thee.”
There is also going to como a great allevia
tion on this subject by co-operative institu
tions. I am not referring now to labor or
ganisations, I am not referring to trades
unions, but to that plan by which laborers
put wlnt money they call save in an
enterprise and conduct it themselves.
It lias passed beyond experiment.
Do not say it is experiment. In England
and Wales there are now 765 co-opc-rative in
stitutions, with 300,000 members, with a cap
ital of £14,000,000, doing a business one year
of $57,000,000. The first experiment in this
country was the Troy Co-operative Foundry
which had large success and went on long
enough to demonstrate possibilities. But
there arc scores and hundreds of theso co-op
erative institutions, and the}' are going to do
vast improvement. They have ceased
to be an experiment or a
mere theory. Thomas Hughes, the most
brilliant friend of the laboring men in Eng
land, says the co-operative institution is the
path out of theso troubles. Lord Derby and
John Stuart Mill gave half their lives to the
discussion of those subjects. Sir Thomas
Brassey said iu the English Parliament co
operation is tho one aud only solution of this
question. It is the sole path by which the
laboring classes as a whole, or any large
number of them, will ever emerge from the
hand-to-mouth mode of living and get their
share of tho rewards and honors of our ad
vanced civilization. The principle was
illustrated in Ireland, where a traveler left the
mail coach aud saw a workman standing up
to his waist in the water repairing a dam, a
mill dam. He said to this workman: “Why.
you seem to be alone—nobody to watch you.’*
The workman replied: “I am all alone, I
watch myself.” “Where is your steward?*
“Wc have no steward.” “Where is your
master?” “We have no master.” “Why,
who sent you?” “Tho committee.” “Whose
committee?” “Well, I belong to an
association and we elect certain
members as a committee and they
regulate this whole thing. We belong to the
new system of labor, tho now system of as
sociation, tho co-operative method.” But
you ask me if sometimes theso eflorts have
not been a failure? Ob, yes: all great move
ments have been a failure at the start. The
application of steam power a failure, electric
telegraphing a failure, railroading a failure
at first: but afterward the chief success of
tho century. Co-operative 1 institutions will
go ou to larger success. You say—some one
says to me: “Why it is absurd to talk about
laborers who cannot get enough wages
to support themselves aud their families,
putting their surplus into an institution of
this kind.” My reply is, that if you will put
into my hand the money which during the
last five years has by the laboring classes of
America been spent for rum and tobacco, I
will establish a co-operative institution might
ier than anv monetary institution in America.
There will also be alleviation of this whole
subject when employers find tho importance
of telling their employes just how matters
stand. You know as well as I do
that hero is the difficulty in a great
many establishments—while th9 laborers are
at their wits’ ends the capitalist is also. How
ho shall pay the rent, how he shall meet tho
taxe •, and how he shall keep the machinery
going. Meanwhile the laborer thinks this
mauls rolling up a large fortune. It cannot
be so at all in that case. The vast majority
of the capitalists of to-day are not making
out of their investment 10 per cent.,nor 9 per
cent., nor 8 per cent., nor 7 per cent., nor 6
per cent., nor 4 per cent., nor 3 per cent.
Labor at it’s wits' ends because of small wages
Capital at it's wits’ ends. I know there are ex
ceptions. There are great anacondos that are
swallowing down everything. I am not re
ferring to them. I am referring to the great
mass of capitalists. Now do you not think it
would alleviate this matter if the capitalist
should say: “I’ll explain this whole matter
to my men.” There is an immense amount of
common sense abroad in the world. There
is an immense amount of good, kindly feel*
ing. I do not believe there would lie on#
strike, where there are ten strikes, if it were
the universal plan that capitalists should let
their laborers know just how matters stand.
I had a friend who had a thousand men in
his employ. Some years a^o when there
were strikes often I said: “How do you get
along?’ He said: “Very well.” “I suppose
you had strikesf* “Oh, no; I never have any.”
“Never Lave any? What do you mean?”
“Well.” he said, “I call my men together
every little while and say: ‘Boys, let us sea
how matters stand. Last year I made so
much. This year }'OU see we are making
less. I want to know what you think
about it, what you think your wages ought
to be and what I ought to get on my invest
ment; for, boys, you know I have got every
thing in this thing and I have got to keep it
going. I want you to tell me, looking over
the whole affair, what your wages ought to
be, and what mv interest on the investment
ought to be. We are always unanimous, and
toy men would die for me.” But suppose
a capitalist acts with supercilious air,
and drives up to his factory a3 though he
were the autocrat of the universe, the
sun and the moon in his vest
It is not any great Niagara suspension bridge
over the chasm; it is only a step. Would
God they would shake hands while they pa^s.
If the capitalist in this house would draw his
glove you would see a broken fmger nail,
the scar of an old blister, a stiffened
finger joint. Nearly all the capitalists of
to-day are successful laborers. Nearly all
the great publishing houses of America are
conducted by men who set type or were en
gaged in book binding. Nearly all the men
who own carriage factories used to sandpa
per tbe wagon wheel to get it ready for the
painter. Deter Cooper was a gluemaker and
he went on until he glued together an im
mense fortune, aud he established that
princely institution, the Cooper Institute,
which has mothered 500 such philanthropies
in the United States, and I never
pass it without saying within myself:
“What a magnificent monument that man
built to himself and to Christian charity.”
The laborers of this country have no greater
friend, because Peter Cooper practically said
to every laboring man in this country: “Do
you want your boy to have a splendid educa
tion? If you do send him up to my Institute;
it will cost you nothing.” An elder of this
church was some time ago walking in Green
wood and saw two young men putting
flowers on Peter Coopers grave. He
thought: “Why they must bo friends
or relatives of the old man.”
But after a while he got into conversation
with them, and they said: “No, wo are not
relatives, but we were poor boys, and we got
our education from Peter Cooper, and that
is the reason we put flowers on his grave.”
If the peoplo who were blessed by that glo:
rious old man should put flowers on his grave,
they would be mountain high. Abram Van
Nest was a harness maker in New York.
Year after year lie stood at the bench. He
had largo success.. Ho told me many times
he thought he made the best harness in
Now York. He went on and gathered a
large fortune, end he distributed hundreds of
thousands of dollars to the poor, to Bible
societies, tract societies, humantarian so
cieties. No poor man ever asked help of
Abram Van Nest but he gave it. I never
shall forget one night when I, a green
country lad, called on him, and after spend
ing tho evening he accompanied me to the
4 on/1 on 1 rl . In "UT 44+ r, AT* A TO 1X ll 11
door and said: “De Witt, nere is $50 to buy
books with, but don’t say anything about
it.” And I never did until the old man was
that If I was hailed at the gat2 Ineel only
show his name written on my hand or written
on my forehead.” Then tjjerc i; a gr.a: rat
tling of pulleys, the gat£s hoist, and he en
ters into cor .naticn. In tho one case the
man had a great funeral; in the other case tho
man had a small fun ral. Tho man who had
a large funeral, however, had no Christ with
him. Tha other man had accepted Christ as
his Saviour. The religion of Jesus Christ is
a democratic religion. You cannot buy your
way into heaven, and you cannot be so poor
that anybody will dare to shut you out If
the gatekeeper, s nitron with a sense of injus
tice,.should halt aud stop an 1 try to keep you,
all Heaven would fly from their thrones
crying: “Let him in.” I have tbe best au
thority for saying that Godliness is profitable
for the life that now is. it pays employer
and it pays employe, this religion of Jesus
Christ, and it is going to settle forever and
forever this dispute. The time is going to
come when tho Lard hand of toil and tau soft
hand of the counting room will clasp.
They will clasp iu congratulation,
and thev will claso in the glorious
millennial hour. In that glorious millennial
hour the hard hand of toil will say: “I plowed
the desert into a garden ;** and the soft hand of
the counting room will say: “I furnished tho
Seed with 4 which tho ground was sown;” and
the hal'd hand of toil will say: “I threshed
the mountains;” and the soft hanl of the
counting room will say: “I paid for the flail;”
and the hard hand of toil will say: “I
pounded tho spear into a pruning-hook;”
and tho soft hand of the counting room:
.V*-
pocket, chiefly anxious lest some greasy or
smirched hand should touch h:s French
broadcloth. That man will find his awful
mistake. In tho vast majority of cases I be
lieve there would be but little or no trouble
if the men who own immense establishments
fairly and frankly told their employes all
about it. .
Then there is going to como great altera
tion of this through the religious influence
which is to be brought upon tho country.
Why is it that in this country we have noth
ing less than a penny, while in China they
have the money they call cash put on threads
and put around the neck, and this cash—it
takes ten, fifteen, twenty of them to make a
penny? The only difference is that which is
made by Christianity. Heathenism depresses
everything; keeps everything down. Chris
tianity enlarges everything; lifts people up.
You go through a community where infidelity
is abroad and controlling everything; wages
are down, and employers are hard on their
laborers. Let the religion of Jesus Christ—
the old fashioned religion—dominate a com
munity, aud, you will find the employers
kind and the wages good,comparatively. The
religion of Jesus Christ is a democratic re
ligion. It teaches the employer that ho is
brother to all the operators in his mill, born
of the same Heavenly Father, redeemed by
the same supernal Christ, to lie down in the
same dust. Not much chance to put on airs
in the sepulchre, or at tho judgment. The
engineer in a New England factory ge*s
sleepy. He does not watch the steam gauge.
TLea there is a wild thunder of explosion, in
which the owner of the mill is killed and
one of tbe poor workmen in some par*
of the factory. The two slam men
come up toward the gate of Heaven.
The owner of the mill knocks at^ the
gate. The celestial gatekeeper says: “\V ho is
there?” He says: “I owned a mill at Fall
Fiver: thero has been a great explosion
there and I lost my life; I came up here and
I expect to enter hoaven.” “What right
have you to enter heaven?” says the celestial
gatekeeper. The other says: “I was a great
, man down there and I employed 200 hands.”
“Employed two hundred* hands, did you?
How much of tho graco of God did you em
ploy?” “Nothing.”. “Stand back, you cau-
not enter here.” Bight after him
comes this poor laborer who was slaiu
by tho same accident. He knocks at
the gate. The gatekeeper says: “Who is
there?” He says: “I am a workman; Icame
up from Fall River; I was poor there; there
wai a great accident there: I lo t my life; 1
want to outer heaven.” What right have
you to como hue to the gate of heaven?'
“Well, I have no right in myself: I was a
bad man once; I did a thousand things I
ought not to have done; I used to curs# an 1
swear when I hurt my baud or foot at the
mill, but I heal'd a shining messenger come
from this gate to our world to help and save
it, and I found him and told him all
it: I confessed the whole thing, and he
told me to come up here, and bo told me also
ind tlie soil nano or tiio LouuLiu^ mum.
‘I sisued tlio treaty that ma le tha thin!?
possible. ’ 'then Capital and Labor shall lie
drawn together—"the lion and tho lamb, ths
leopard and the kid, and there will he nothing
to hurt or do-troy in all God's holy mount,
uth o£ the Lord hath spoken it”
Feminine Malice.
Mirs Esmeralda Longcoffin and Birdie
McGinnis, both belies of Austin, do not
love each other excessively. Not long
since Tom Anjerry called ou Miss Long-
coffin, and during the conversation they
came to talk about Miss McGinnis.
“She has beautiful auburn locks,” re
marked Miss Longcoffin.
“Last time I saw her, ” remarked Tom,
“her hair was quite dark. I think she
pat oil on her hair to make it look
darker.”
“I should be afraid to go near her.
Pouring oil on a lire is a risky sort of a
business,” said Esmeralda, maliciously.—
Siftings.
From Her Standpoint of Yierv.
: deil*~
Lady (seeking rooia
ing » not very high!” \
Landladt—“Oh, miiin, consid er from
where you look!”—Judge.
Signs ot the Times.
vfiytvOy k
-SB
(Off*
In the Line of His Profession.
“Mr. Porter, you delivered my mcs-4
sage ?”
“ Yes.”
“With what result ?”
“ He knocked me down for my impus
dence.”
“ And what did you do ?
“ I put up with it, sir. It was in tha
line of his profession, you know.”
“Why, he’s ns slugger ?”
oKnr he’s an zuctioueer.”-
No; he’s an Auctioneer.
phia CM.
-Philadd.
He Had Been There.
Wife—“How long world a fish be that
would weigh twenty pounds?”
Husband—' Tint depen is. Why da
you want to know?”.
Wife—“Why, Mrs. Jones says heJ^
husband caught a fish the other day tha|
wogjd weigh twenty pounds, and I was
wondering how long it waa ”
Husband (carelessly)—“The jjsh was
about four inches long. ”—Free Press.
to?
■t.-i
-.■rt&fm