The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, March 08, 1902, Image 2

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The sunny South., March 08, 1902, Image 2

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Newspaper Page TextEIGHTH PAGE \ JC'SwKy So PuUuhedtVeehtyib, X t I UTH any South jpubfyfhing Co Butlneft Office ptE CONSTITUTION BUILDING ATLANTA, GEORGIA Subscription Terms: To those who subscribe to C3S« Sunny South only Six Months, 25c ^ One Year, 50c LESS THAN A PENNY A WEEK I Aduia, Ct.tta secezd-eteaa matter March 13,1J»01 The Sammy Seuth It the eldest mat My paper ef Literature, Semtmmce, jr«tf and Piaien Im the South rO tile mum rut Jiered ta the ortgtnolmhepo amd mill ha publlthed urn farm atarty eeery peek ^ Paumded In IS74 It grata until IS99, taham, me a momthty. It* form mat champed at am export* mtemt # It maty returns ta Its original formation ms a taaakH with renamed algor amd tha Intention of eelIpat lug Its meet promising period In tho past. The First Birthday of the New Sunny South HE'SUNNY- SOUTH extends hear- r . ty greetings to its readers and sub scribers on this, its first birthday under the new management. Just a year ago it changed ownership and its new proprietors returned the paper to its original weekly form. Many events of an epochal nature have happened since that time. Though the management employed an efficient corps of editors, writers and illustrators and spared no ex pense in setting on foot the impor tant task of building up a meritori ous, attractive southern literary weekly, it was with a feeling of uncertainty that the preliminary work was accomplished, and the first efforts of the enterprise were mbre of a tenta tive nature, in an effort to feel the pulse of the southern people and devise means whereby their peculiar needs might be satisfied. In this en deavor the management feels that it has suc- teeeded, and in support of this statement points to the fact that in its short year of new life it has more than doubled, almost trebled, its circulation list. One of the surest indications of success, like wise, is the patronage of advertisers. In.this re spect, we point with pride to the splendid showing made in this issue—a showing with which any publisher might feel gratified. The story of Ihe Sunny South, as a magazine, is one of enthralling interest. Begun twenty- seven years ago ny Colonel John H. Seals, a vet eran newspaper man and himself a writer of expe rience and talent, it passed through sufficient backsets and discouraging vicissitudes to kill less hardy determination or a weaker or less worthy motive. The primary idea back of the founding of the paper was the development of southern literature. Colonel Seals was satisfied, that in the south there was td be found as great literary talent -as in any section of the country. Southern people were well read, quick mentally, and acute observers of human nature. They ap preciated the highest forms of literary excellence, land he saw no reason why, out of this splendid material, might not.be constructed a literati sur passed by that of no other section or country. Developments prove bis logic. Writers who have since become famous in national and international (literature sent forth their maiden efforts in this section through the medium of the old Sunny South. There is Martha McCullough Williams, for instance—a magazine and fiction writer of the highest ability today, whose first work was done turtder Colonel Seals’ tutelage; Mrs. Mell R. Col- quitc, whose name is known in all the metropoli tan newspaper and magazine offices, contributed her freshest and strongest work to the infant souchern periodical; Matt Crim, whose fiction won l|er such success that she is now living in London amidst affluence, stirred old Sunny South readers with her vivid, lifelike stories; Louis Pendleton, whose name has gone through the United States as a graphic author, was encouraged to his suc cess by the applause won from southern audiences. . We may mention as a striking instance the name of Mrs. Mary E. x»ryan. For years she had entire ^charge of The Sunny South, and the splendid posi tion which she won for the paper in the national magazine world brought the offers from northern [publishers which have, made her fame enduring. She has now returned to her first love, and as ed itor of the wpman’s page of The Sunny South is greeting old friends, and making new ones for the paper in its- later days. * • When The Sunny South was reorganized last year under its new. management Colonel Seals’ (primal idea was kept strictly in view. The pro prietors recognized the truth of his opinion that the south contained.ample literary talent, only ^waiting the touch of a sympathizing, strength ening hand to attain full development. We refer the reader to The -Sunny South^files for its first year of publication in proof of the statement that southern writers have been exploited in the fuHest measure The prize story contest, conducted last fall; developed an amazing and unusual amount of talent. The serial contest, which closes with this issue, has done so in an even greater degree. Other contests are planned for the future which Shall give the best of chances and training to home italent. Aside from this determination to advance southern literaTy interests, the magazine’s editors have kept its suoscribers well supplied with the work of the most popular waiters in this and other countries. Ian Maclaren, Bret Harte, Maurice Thompson. Dean Farrar. S. R. Crockett, Joel Chandler Harris, John Kendrick Bangs, Anthony Hope, and many more of the world’s best writers land thinkers, have exerted their best efforts for our readers. We believe these efforts have been appreciated. But the work has only been started. It is pro posed in the immediate future and for all time to give the readers f The Sunny .South the best that •the literary market affords; to encourage more fetronply ambitious southern writers, and we hope Ho point the way to brilliant success to many genius now lies fallow foe want of encour- t. In this mission we ask the cooperation v I of those who have shown themselves so kindly disposed toward thp efforts already put forth. We thank them heartily, and leaye them to the perusal of the good things prepared in this first anniver sary edition, with the assurance that The Sunny South feels each subscriber its personal friend; it •will be grateful lor suggestions at all times, and will ever hold itself ready to assist any project which has for its object the elevation and eqforde- ment of southern ideas and ideals. V What the South Has Done in Current Literature OUTHERNERS whose ambition or mental trend runs toward the liter ary are certainly “surrounded by'a cloud-of witnesses” from their na tive'heath. Very unlikely it is that many southern men or women have stopped to number the illustrious names from this section in contem porary national literature. Those who undertake this task will be as- _ tounded at tne length of the list and the importance of the literary pro ductions. It would seem that there is some peculiar, pungent force in the ,, southern atmosphere or the southern temperament which fosters imaginative effort of a high class. We base our statements, •too,'on the annals of what’is popularly called the new south,’’ or the south of post-bellum condi tions—totally different from those which ruled previous to the civil war, infinitely more difficult and exacting, too. Let us take a brief glance into the temple of ame which her sons and daughters of genius have erected for Dixie. There is Joel-Chandler Harris, whose inimitable tales of folk-lore have created an epoch in the world’s literature. His master mind unlocked the vast treasure house of amusement, pathos, the subtlety of human nature and peculiar racial characteristic of a people aoout whom the w,orld had either been misinformed, or entirely ignored. The novels of Augusta Evans Wilson, a native of t... s state, portray a purity, a strength of character which are remarkable, and wnich have gained admirers in every section of the United States. The sturdy figure of Richard Malcolm Johnston shows out in strong relief against the literary horizon. His is a name and style with which to conjure in almost any section of the south. Who is there that has not been entranced by th® Creole tales of George W.. Cable—a past mas ter of style, with an imagination of essentially vi tal and natural bent? We may even claim Win ston Churchill, author of “Richard Carvel,” since he is a native of Missouri and was educated at Annapolis. Maurice Thompson, lamented author of “Alice of Old V incennes, is properly a south erner. Although he was born in Indiana, he spent much of'his life in Georgia and enlisted in the confederate army from this state. Amelie Rives Chanler (the Princess Troubetskoi), whose “The Quick or the Dead” and other works created an international sensation at the .time of their pub lication, is a native of-Virginia. Her cousin, Hal- lie Erminie Rives, has more recently sjtirred the literary world with “Smoking Flax” and “A Fur nace of Earth.” She is now completing another novel which the critics believe will surpass any of her previous productions. In this same class may be mentioned Mary Johnston, of Alabama, and Ellen Glasgow, of Vir ginia. The former’s two novels, ‘To Have and To Hold” and “Audrey,” not only faithfully mirror southern life -nd customs, but are written in a Vein and with a style which have earned them welcome in the most discriminating libraries in the north, west and east. Three Kentuckians who have succeeded in pleasing our national literary sticklers and gaining a firm foothold in the Ameri can world of letters are James Lane Allen, John Fox, Jr., and John Uri Lloyd. “The Choir In visible” and “Stringtown on the Pike” are in a das' of their own, and have received favorable notices from critics whose strong point is not their amiability. Thomas Nelson Page is peculiarly the chronicler of the confederacy’s literary side, though his work is as popular north as south. He opened up and explored a unique strata in litera ture of a local color, which has been followed suc cessfully by many less well known and meritorious authors. F. Hopkinson Smith is another- Vir ginian whose success has reflected credit on him self and his state. Lately he, with many other southern authors, has entered the lyceum field and is making fame and wealth on the platform. • _ Ruth McEnery Stuart and Charles Egbert Craff- idock (Mrs. Murfree), one of Louisiana and the other of Tennessee, are familiar figures in na tional literature. “The Black Wolf’s Breed,” writ ten by^Harris Dickson, is a novel of startling uniqueness, one which leaves a deeply graven and ineradicable impression on the mind. Mrs. Mary JE. Bryan, whose work first came into prominence through th«. columns of The Suriny South, is still writing fiction which appeals to a large and grow ing class, of readers. Of the living poets of the south we may men tion three who have sung their way into the heart of the nation. Frank L. Stanton stands out con spicuously in this bright trioTwhich is composed of he, Samuel Minturn Peck and Robert Loveman. Peck has lately turned his attention somewhat to fiction. Mr. St-nton, in addition to innumerable newspaper and magazine contributions, has pub lished four nooks, which have reached a wide sale in this country and England. • There is a powerful lesson in the lives of all of these bright men and women, for i..ose whose eyes are turned toward the fields which they have so ably trod. None of them, nt>t even the most brilliant, won fame at one bound. Steady, per sistent endeavor, perseverance in the teeth of the bitterest ridicule and discouragement, laughing at the wolf when his fangs were tearing away at the flesh, and a never-failing conhuence in their own ability and the ultimate fairness of their fellows. These are the qualities which brought permanent, Undoubted and well-deserved success in the past, and they are the only infallible guides for the fu ture. - And, ganging that future by the glowing past and present. The Sunny South believes that St will not only be duplicated, but brilliantly ex celled. If the south, in a literary sense, is only in its infancy, what may we not expect of Hs glorious, full-blown maturity? i ihesunny “OUR BOY” ^ Ian MucLaren * »Ssr Boy must have had a father, and some day lie ■may be a father .himself, byt'-in the meantime, he. Is absdftitely different from anything else on the' 'face of the earth. He is a race by himself, a special crea tion that cannot be traced, for,-who. would venture to liken his ways to the re spectability of his father, or who would ever con nect him with the grave and decorous man which by and by he is to be. By and by, say in thirty years, he will preside at a meeting for the pre vention of cruelty , to animals, or make enthusiastic speeches for the conversion of black people, or get in a white heat about the danger of explosives in the house, or' feb exceedingly careful about the rate of driving, but meanwhile he watches two dogs settle their political differeacesi with keen interest, and would consider lt:-unspoi manlike to interfere if they were fairly matched; the sight of a black-man Is to him a subject of pro found and practical amusement; if-he can blow himself and a brother up with gunpowder, he feejst that time has not been lost; and it is to him a chief delight —although stolen—to travel round at ear ly morn with the milkman, and being foolishly allowed to drive, to take every corner on«ne wheel; He is skillful In ar ranging a waterfall which comes into operation by the opening „f a door; he keeps a menagerie of pets; unsightly In appearance, and- extremely offensive in smell, in his bed room. He has an inex haustible repertory of tricks for any servant with whom he has quarreled; It is his pleasure, to come down stairs on the bannisters; and if any one is looking he makes believe he. is going to fall off and dash himself to destruction three floors below. His father is aghast at him, and uses the strongest language regard- be too tlmlf and too simple for his duty —that he may be run over by a cab or bullied upon the streets, Carefully washed by his mother, and with his hair nlceiy brushed, in a plain but untorn suit of clothes, and a cap set decently on his head, he is a beautiful sight, and he listens to his father s instructions to do what he is told, and his master’s com mandment that he is not to meddle with anything In the shop. In respectful and engaging sUence. His father departs warning look, his master .gives with him an easy errand, and, the Boy’ goes cu * ,1° life in a hard, unfriendly world, while one pities his tender youth. Uoyra and Dogs Much Alik* The Boy has started with a considera ble capital of knowledge, gathered at school,, and -in -a- few- weeks he is free of the streets—a full grown citizen in Ms own kingdom, and, if you please, we will watch him for on hour. His master has given him some fish, and charged him as he values his life to deliver them at once at 29 Rose Terrace, and the Boy departs with cc nsciei.tlous purpose. Half way to his destination-he. sees .in the far distance the butcher's boy, who also has been sent in hot haste to some house where the cook is demanding the raw material for luncheon... They signal to one another with clear, penetrating, unin telligible cries, like savages across a des ert. and the result Is that the two mes sengers rendezvous at the corner'of Rose Terrace. What they talk about no per son can tell, for their speech Is their own, but by and by' under the influence of, no doubt, informing conversation, they relax from their austere labors and iay down their baskets, A minute later they are playing marbles with undivided minds, and 'might be 'playing pitch and toss were they not afraid of a policeman coming around the -corner. It is noth ing to them, gay," irresponsible children of nature, that two cooks are making two kitchens unbearable with their indigna tion, for the Boy has learned to receive complaints with imperturbable gravity and ingenious falsehood. Life for him is succession of pleasures, slightly chas- flsh, stating with calm dignity that he had just been sent from the shop and signal to. had run all the -way. ing hie escapades; he wonders how , tened by work and foolish Impatience, came to pass that such a boy should . . . ■ turn up in his home, and considers him what gardeners wodlo call "a sport" or unaccountable eccentricity in the family. He is sure that he never did such things when he was a boy, and would be very Indignant if you insinuated he had sim ply been a prophecy of his son. Ac cording to his conversation you would imagine that his early life had been dis tinguished by unbroken and spotless pro priety, and his son himself would not believe for a moment that the pater had ■ever been gutltyvaf his own exploits. The Boy is-t therefore' lonely in his home, cut.off-from the past and the fu ture; he is apt to be misunderstood and even (in- an extreme case) censured, and bis sufferings as a creature of a foreign race, with all the powers of government against- him, would - be intolerable had he not such -a joy in living, and were he not sustained In everything he does by a quite unaffected sense of Innocence, and the proud consciousness of honorable martyrdom. At Home Bop* Not Natural As wild animals are best studied in their native states, and are mnch restrict ed in the captivity of a cage, so the Boy is not geen at his best iri the respectable home where he is much fettered by vain customs (although it is -wonderful how even there he can realize himself), and when you want to understand what manner of creature he is., you must see him on the street. And the Boy lii excel- sis, and de profundi!?, too, is a message boy. Concluding that" his son had had enough of the board school; arid learning from his master that the^e wafc'not the remot est chance he Wilfrid ever reach a higher standard;-' his fatHfrr brings him scSme morning tq a respectable, tradesman, and persuades the unsuspecting man to take him as message- boy. Nothing could ex ceed the modesty and demure appearance of the Boy, and the only. fear, is that he As they play, a dog, who has been watch ing them from afar with keen interest, and thoroughly understands their ways, creeps near with cautious cunning, and .seizing the chance of a moment when the butcher’s boy has won a "streaky” from the fishmonger, dashos in .and seizes the leg of mutton. If he had been less ambitious and taken a chop, he would •have succeeded, and then the Boy would have explained that the chop had been lost In a street accident in which he was almost killed, but a leg of mutton is heavy to lift and a boy is only less .alert than a dog. The spoil is barely over the edge of the basket, and the dog has ;not yet tasted its sweetness, before the Boy gives a ye!i so shrill and fearsome that it raises the very hair on the dog's back, and the thief bolts iri terror with out his prey. The Boy picks up The mut ton, dusts it on his trousers, puts it back in the . basket, gives the fishmonger a playful punch on the side of the head, to which that worthy responds with an at tempted kick, and the two friends depart in opposite directions, whistling, with a liglit heart and an undisturbed conscience. If any one imagines that the Boy will now, hurry with his fish, he does not un derstand the nature of the race and its freedom from enslaving rule. A few yards down Rose Terraec he comes upon the grocer's boy and the two unearth a chemist’s boy, and our Boy produces a penny dreadful, much torn and very fishy, but which contains the picture of a battle swimming in blood, a n d the three sit down for Its enjoyment. When they have fairly exhausted tlieir literature the Boy receives his fee, as the keeper of a circu lating libtiry. by being allowed to dip his finger, carefully wetted before, into a bag of moist sugar, and to keep all that he can take out, and the grocer’s boy 2s ajaje. -.to close up the bag so skillfully that the cook will never know that it has been opened. From the chemist he ieceive3 a still more enjoyabje, because much more pcrtftus reward, for he U al lowed to put his mouth ■ to the spout of a syphon and. If he can endure, to 'take what comes—and that Is the reason why syphons are never perfectly Tull. It occurs to the- chemist at this mbment that he was told' to lose no time in de livering some medicines, and so he de parts reluctantly; the conference breaks up, and it seems as if notblrig remained for the Boy t-ht to deliver his fish'; still you never know what may happen, and at that moment he catches sight of a motor car, and it seems a mere duty to hurry back to the top of the terrace to see whether it will break down. It does, of course, for otherwise one could hard ly believe it to be a motor car, and the Boy. under, what he would consider a call of Providence, hastens to offer assistance. Other boys arrive from different quar ters, interested, sympathetic, obliging, willing to assist the irritated motorman in every possible way. They remain with him twenty-five minutes till he starts egain, arid then three of them accom pany, him on a back scat, not because they were invited, but because they feel they are needed. And then the Boy goes back-to Rose Terrace and delivers th< “ Tribe of Natural Philoioohen Things are said to him at the house by the cook, who Is not an absolute fool, and things may ..be said to him by his master at the shop, who has some knowl edge of boyg. .but . no injurious leflection of any kind affects the Boy. With a mind at leisure from itself he is able to send his empty basket spinning along the street after a lady’s poodle, and to ac company this attention with a yell that will keep the pampered pet on the run for a couple of streets to the fierce Indig nation of its mistress. The chances are that he will foregather with an Italian monkey boy, and although the one knows no Italian and the other knows no Eng lish, they will have pleasant fellowship together, because both ars boys, and in return for being allowed to have the mon key on his shoulder, and seeing it run up a water pipe, he will give the Italian half an apple which comes out of his pocket with two marbles and a knife at tached to it. If he be overtaken by drenching showei, he covers his head and shoulders with his empty basket, sticks his hands in Ms pockets, and goes on his way singing in the highest of spirits, but if the day be warm be travels on the step of a ’bus when the conductor is on the roof, or on a iorrv, if the driver be not surly, If it be winter time, and •’there be ice on the streets, he does hi: best, with the assistance of his friends, to make a. slide, and if the police inter fere, with frrhom he is terms of honorable warfare, he contents himself with snow balling some prjudish looking youth who is out for a walk with his mother. He is not s4thout his ambitions in the world, and he carries sacred ideals -hi the secret of his heart. He would give all that he possesses—five lurid and very tattered books, a pen knife with four blades (two broken), nineteen marbles (three glass! and a pair of white mice—to be the driver of a butcher’s cart. The Boy is a savage, and although you may rover him with a thin veneer of civilization, he remains a savage. There is a high-class schoo for little boys in my d/strlct, and those at a distance are driven home in cabs that they may not get wet in winter weather and may rot be over fatigued. A cab is passing at this moment with four boys, who have invited two friends to join them, and it is raining heavily. Two boys are on the box seat with the driver, and have thoughtfully left their top coats inside in case they might get spoiled. There is a boy with-his head out at either window, addressing opprobrious remarks to those on the box- sept, for which insults'one of them has Just lost his cap; the other two are fighting furl ously in the bottom of the .cab, and will come out /an abject spectacle. For you may train a dog to Walk on its hind legs, end you may tame a tiger, but you cannot take the boyness out of a boy. i? Religion and the Citizen ^ By DEAN FARRAR. E true conception of pqty is coextensive with the en tire range 61 human life. It was never intended that rpan should be absorbed in isolated aims, nor that, his thoughts should be exclu sively devoted to the con cerns of his personal In terest. He who is content with Such selfishness spends his life “like beast with lower pleas ures, like, a beast with He hardly rises to the true man at all. Nearly two / \ lower pains, dignity of . i millenniums ago, St Paul taught us that no mar. liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself; whether we live there fore or die we are the Lord's, There could be no more plain and emphatic teaching of the truth that man has been placed on this earth by his Creator with far loftier ends than that of self-gratifi cation, whether it take the common and degrading form of heaping up to our selves riches, not knowing who shall gather them; or the equally common, and even more degraded, form of sensual grat ification, in which a man may live—as too many myriads do live—like natural brute beasts which have no understand ing. It is not only the great- inspired prophets of Judaism and Christianity who have seen that Love is the fulfilling of the law, and that all the Commandments are summed up lit a single rule that we are to do unto others as we wish that they should do unto us. Identically the same rule lies at the base of all that is best In the systems of pagan teach ers, and the founders of the most wide spread religions of the world. Thus, when Confucius was asked to sfiim all the laws of duty in ono wrord, he answered “Is not reciprocity such a word?” and by reciprocity he faintly adumbrated the sovereign virtue, which we describe as holy, heavenly love. An<j when in the last generation Auguste Comte vainly dreamed of inaugurating a new religion which should take the place of Chris tianity, he, too, summed up the essence of hie system In fhe one word, altruism, and in the single rule, Vivre pour atitrui. It is clear, therefore, th$t the main ef fort of our Hjftman lift? should be to follow the highest^, ©f. all examples, and not primarily to seek out>- own pleasure and advantage, hut to gain our true life by the willing, and ; even glad, self'sacrifice cf air transput personal aims, ahd the predominant effort, at all .c'osts to im prove. the conditions of things around- us, and to leave the world (so fah as-. lies tr. Out- fiower) a d*ttle better arid a little happier than wfe-Tound ltr This is ;wnat we mean by the corporate life 1» gtperal. Our duties, and therefore our hlg^test In terests, widen outTfard like -tfid ripple on the surface of a j/ike: they-only ceasa when the.-tiny wave of our earthly life breaks upon- fhe shore of eteSriity. Our highest duty- to ourselves:. ht ^our most sacred duty to others It~begins with the duties vAich we owe to those who are nearest arid dearest-tof us in the circle of our domestic life. »It widens at once to the. whole circle of 'our neighbors. From them it spreads to’ the societies around us in the villages of cities. In which our lot may be cast. From them it extends to the whole nation -to which we belorg. Finally it involves our rela tions to he whole family of man. It will be seen then at owce that the highest arid most concentrated rule of the xelig- icus llie is the basis ^of all true morality. in W e is the basis iof all true awiiit; a ; _ r namely—Thou shalt- love thy neighbor as thyielf. / Obvious and undeniable as are these religious truths. It needs but a glance at the world around us 'to see that how ever much they are theoretically acknowl edged, the sense of their truth has a very small share in- regulating the conduct of ■ the vast majority of mankind. Individ ualism, not charity, is the predominant law in guiding the plans and aspirations Of myriads of men, and the gratification of the most transient sensual desire con stitutes a sufficient inducement to un counted multitudes to sacrifice wholesale the most essential and eternal interests of those whom God made, tind for whom Christ’ died, So long as they can attain their immediate object, thee are profound ly indifferent to the ruin and degrada tion Into which they plunge their miser able victims. Again, if it be their chief desire to accumulate wealth, whether from the absorbing influence of creed, or in order that they may enjoy the means of self-gratification which wealth puts within their reach, they illustrate the warning that the love of riches is the .root of all kinds of evils, by showing the profouudest indifference to the cer tainty that they are heaping up wealth to • their own destruction, and often to the wholesale destruction of multitudes —sometimes even of whole.tribes and na tions of their fellow "men. The sad lilustratiors of this utterly dis astrous state of things are visible around us on every side. The Christian’s rule is "Never to mix our pleasure or our pride With anguish of the meanest thing that feels;” r but, alas! not ohly in England, but in all the Christian nations of Europe, money is recklessly amassed at the cost of un speakable wretchedness, and earthly as well as eternal ruin, to the souls of oth ers. It remains an awful fact that in spite of Christianity, “Man is to man the sorest, surest !il.” It is one. of the worst aspects of this ter rible triumph of evil over eood, that gov ernments and countries become fatally familiarized with evil, and most fatally callous to it. Statesmen tolerate the ex istence of hideous wrongs because power ful interests are concerned in the con tinuance of those wrongs; and because, when men have suffered familiarltv to stultify and warp their consciences, they regard every one as a mere fanatic whose heart bleeds at the needless Injuries in flicted on his fellow men. This impene trable hardrfess, and self-induced blind ness of the human conscience have been evinced • again and again in human his tory, and there are awfully glaring illus trations of them in the present day. Can this total indifference to remedial causes of human ruin be cured? And, if so, how can the remedy for-4Jiem be found? These deadly evils assuredly can be cured, for, in the course of human history, similar wrongs have again and again been conquered and expelled. Let one instance suffice. Almost within liv ing memory. England was entangled in the shameless inramies of the slave trade; now she has shaken off the incubus of this odious crime against humanity, and there Is scarcely any living person who would defend It. In our own generation America has followed her example. Why has this been? The first opponents of the slave trade were ridiculed and per secuted, as hopeless fanatics and disa greeable faddists, and the supporters of the trade which stole human beings from their homes, and- subjected them to horrible barbarities bad so entirely drugged and sophisticated their own con sciences as to declare with Boswell that to suppress the trade would be to hinder the progress , of the Christian religion, and to shut the gate3 of mercy on man • kind. The opposition to the slave trade did not come from a somnolent church, smitten with the apoplexy of immoral custom and the shameless sophisms .of greedy self-interest, but from the clearer insight and deeper. sincerity of previous ly^ unknown laymen who, at the cost of their own peace—and amid the abuse and hatred of conventional religionists, whose god was practically their belly—succeeded in at last arousing the national conscience to recognize the guilt of the hideous crime in which the nation was so com placently engaged. The deliverance of nations from crime, arid from the ultimate ruin which crime, sooner or later, involves, has always been due to religion in the heart of the citi zen; but generally—indeed without excep tion—the salvation has arisen from the heroic efforts of one or two men who have been the first to see truth in its own white light, and not through the distorting medium of custom and seif interest. These men are often compara tively unknown, and only derive their Influence from the strength of their con victions. It was thus that Clarksen stood for a time ail but alone against the in difference and wrong doing of his coun try, and with the subsequent aid of Wil- berforce, Zachary, Macaulay, and Gran ville Sharpe, saved England from “the crime of Using the arm of Freedom to bind the fetters of the slave.” Similarly one man—John Howard—purified the foul prisons of England and of Europe, the condition of which were so cruel and in famous as to constitute a disgrace to humairity. So, tbo. one man. Lord ShaftsBury, rescued thousands of mis erable factory children from shameless oppression. God calls forth bis prophets, atid not seldom from the ranks of humble and unknown laymen. Such is His will: He takes and He re fuses. Finds Him hmbassadors whom men deny, Wise ones nor mighty for His saints he chooses. No such as John, or Gideon, or I. Not to the rich He came, nor to the rul- (Men 'full of meat whom wholly He ab hors), Not to the fools grown insolent In fool ing. Most when the lost are dying out of doors. Never was a period in the history of England when we, had more need than now for religion in. the heart of the citi zen to deliver us from the curse of shame less greed, from the horrible perdition wrought by drink, from curses supported by the selfishness of wealth, from secret godlessness, from the mask of Pharisa ism, used only to conceal the features of the hypocrite. J& The visit of Prince Henry of Prussia to this country is rapidly drawing to . '-He ' conclusion. -He. was received with im mense enthusiasm in New Tork and Washington, and the launching of the Meteor, Kaiser Wilhelm’s yacht, at Shoot ers island, was occomplished with great success and an exuberant display of pub lic feeling. The trip to Lookout mountain, the stops at Nashville, Cincinnati, the visits to Chicago, St. Louis and Milwau kee have been marked by a demonstra tion of deep hospitality and broad spirit on part of the citizens of this country. Prince Henry has charmed those privi leged to meet him, and it is felt that the relations between the two nations have been greatly vitalized. After a flying trip through New England, the prince will re turn home. The Busy * expoiitlon. • . probable J A»e y - • will time this visit the latter P* rt ** month, tfp'to-’tt* last feW daya was much do to whether the ] ldent would Wl . his early ’ pro salsa President Rooseoslt to “the city Jlj i sea.” The Tillman-McLaurin affair In the . senate started this rumor, which was. given plausibility when Lieutenant ' ernor Tillman, of South Carolina, who !• _ chairman of the committee having In charge the presentation of a sword to Ma jor Jenkins, of Virginia, telepraphed W»e president requesting him to withdraw the acceptance of an invitation to present the sword. The consensus of opinion is that this step was caused by the llbutenant governor's anger at Roosevelt's cancelia- , tfon of the Prince Henry dinner invita tion to Senator Tillman. The senator himself added to the flame by making the statement, it is alleged, that it would not be safe for Roosevelt to come to South Carolina in the present excited condition of the public mind. Major Jenkins further complicated the situation by refusing to accept the sword, after ihe slight dealt the president. A delegation of prominent Charlestoni ans, headed by the mayor, called on the -president and urged him to keep his en gagement with the exposition people,- as suring him of a cordial and patriotic re ception. The president has removed all doubts as to his intentions and positions the exposition at an early date. HROUGH Lord Pauncefote, their dean, the ambassa dors of foreign countries in Wash ington haye again complained to the secretary of state about t<he fact that the supreme court of the United States has been given ar e - cedence over them at an official func tion. At the Mc- Lord Pauncefote Kiniey memorial services In the capitol recently the chief justice and the asso ciate justices of the highest federal ju dicial tribunal were seated in front of the ambassadors. Lord Pauncefote per sonally made representations in the mat ter to Secretary Hay on Saturday and it is understood that an effort will be made to establish an order of precedence for all time. While the question which is agitating the diplomatic corps and the supreme court may seem trivial to most people, it is really a matter of International im portance, in that it involves the friendly relations of the United States with for eign countries. There is danger that of fense will be given to the emperors, kings and presidents who are represented In Washington by ambassadors. Each am bassador is the personal representative of his sovereign, and is distinguished from a minister in that the minister repre sents only his government. OMMANDER Rlch- a r d Walnwright, whose pleasant duty it was to do Ohs honors to Prince Henry during the latter’s visit to the naval academy ’ at Annapolis, • hax_a4d-,— ed new luster'to the glories of a family notable for its dis tinguished service in army and navy. He Com’r Walnwright stood on the quarter deck .of the fated Maine when she blew up. and, though he remained by the Wreck until the tattered flag was finally hauled down seven weeks later, he refused to step foot oh Cuban soil. He eagerly sought service when ihe war with Spain broke out, and he was happy when given command of the Gloucester, which had been J. P. Morgan’s yacht, the Corsair. During the naval battle of Santiago he won .imperishable fame -by his fearless at tack with the Gloucester on the Spanish torpedo boat . destroyers, which were quickly riddled and sunk. ENERAL Lucban, the ‘'terror of Sa mar,” and the man who planned the massacre of Ameri can soldiers on that island, Is a prisoner. His capture is re garded as the most Important event since the taking of Agulnaldo. Added to his gifts of strat egy, he was im mensely p o p u lar 1 General Luohan with fhe Filipino army and native civil ians, to a large extent swaying the judg ment of the most influential natives of the archipelago. His capture means that much has been accomplished toward a cessation of hostilities, and It is expected that opposition to the United States forces will now became less effective and deter mined. I R. Christian Fen. ger, famous as a surgeon throughout t'he country, is se riously 111 with pneumonia at his home in Chicago. Dr. Fenger-was quite suddenly afflicted. The malady devel- I oped quickly, and the most acute stage of pneumonia has been reached. While no marked lmprove- Dr ganger ment has been noticed in the patient's condition, he was resting somewhat e»sl< from late reports. Drs. Billings and Ft ville are doing all in their power to o< set the ravages of the disease, but D Fenger’s condition is critical. Pr. Feng} is 61 years old,- and .bears a reputation : his. profession second to nofre In ’ tl United State?. -DVICES from.-Pa say that -EdWi Tuck, the retl) J j ■New Tork and Pi banker, and for/ vice consul at Pa has given a; la sum of money the estab'.tphmen an American pital in Paris, ground for the ii tutlon has been chased' and Bkmerd Tech building is to ished in 1904. It is to be for the sive use of. Americans. Mr. Tuck two years ago gave $300, Dartmouth college in memory father. While hitherto sick Ame: have been well, cared for in Paris, new hospital wilt add materially' welfare of the coholy from this the water. /