Newspaper Page Text
4
THE TRI-WEEKLY JOURNAL
ATLANTA, GA., 5 NORTH FORSYTH ST.
Entered at the Atlanta Postoffice as Mail
Matter of the Second Class.
Daily, Sunday, Tri-Weekly
SUBSCRIPTION PRICE TRI-WEEKLY
Twelve Months -....51.00
Six Months 50c
Three Months 25c
Subscription Prices Daily and Sunday
(By Mail —Payable Strictly in Advance)
1 Wk. IMo. 3 Mos. 0 Mos. 1 Yr.
Daily and Sunday . . .20c OOc $2.50 $5.00 $9.50
Daily IHc 70c 2.00 4.00 7.50
• Sunday 10c 45c 1.25 2.50 5.00
NOTICE IO SUBSCRIBERS
The label used for addressing your paper shows the
time your subscription expires. By renewing at least
two weeks before the date on this label, you insure
regular sei vice.
In ordering paper changed, be sure to give your
old as well as your new address. If on a route,
please give the route number.
We cannot enter subscriptions to begin witli back
numbers. Remittances should be sent by postal order
or registered mail.
Address all orders and notices for this Department
to THE TRI WEEKLY JOURNAL, Atlanta, Ga.
Tell It to Little Miss Fixit
If anything is wrong in service from
The Tri-Weekly Journal, let us know.
Send a letter or postcard to Little Miss
' LITTIK MISS FIXIT,
Care Tri-Weekly Journal,
Atlanta, Georgia.
A BIBLE THOUGHT FOR TODAY
There was a little city, and few men
within it; and there came a great king
against it, and besieged it, and built great
bulwarks against it. Now there was found
in it a poor wise man, and he by his wis
dom delivered the city; yet no man re
membered that same poor man. Then said
I, wisdom is better than strength; never
theless the poor man's wisdom is despised,
and his words are not heard. Wisdom is
better than weapons of war.—Ecclesiastes
9:14-18.
Campaign "Slush Funds '
WILLIAM M. BUTLER, chairman of the
Republican national committee, is a
frank man, if nothing else. Having
raised $1,700,000 toward a. fund to elect
Coolidge, Mr| Butler calmly admits that his
objective in the matter of monej' for cam
paign purposes is $3,000,000, and that he
expects to get an additional $1,300,000 with
in the next two weeks.
"That is a modest sum in view of the ex
penditures that have been made heretofore,”
says Mr. Butler lightly, in dismissing the sub
ject.
But is It a "modest sum” In view of (ad
mitted) expenditures heretofore? The rec
ords do i|ot bear out Mr. Butler’s assertion,
but on the contrary, tend to confirm the
charge of Senator La Follette and others,
that the Republican national committee in
tends to buy the election.
Some ten days or two weeks ago Senator
La Follette charged that the Republicans
were raising a slush fund of $5,000,000 with
which to corrupt the electorate and carry
doubtful states for Coolidge. The suggestion
was hooted by Chairman Butler and other
G. O. P. leade: . but disclosures before the
Borah committee tend not only to corroborate
the charge, but to indicate that slush fund
will exceed by far the $5,000,000 estimate of
the Isconsin senator, if the truth Is fully
developed it would not be at all surprising
if it show- I hat the Republicans plan to dis
burse a sum approximating In size that ex
pcr'’ d by Mark Hanna in 1896. It must be
evident from what is already known that the
Republican party is demanding and is receiv
ing from the "beneficiaries of its pplicies”
their pound of flesh. It looks very much as
If every special interest in the country is
being called upon to ante up for past favors, I
The record of campaign expenditures by
the Republican and Democratic parties since
IS6O is available, and disclosing the follow
ing to have been the "admitted” expendi
tures of the two parties in the several cam
paigns:
Republican Year Democratic
I 100,000 1860 $ 50,000 I
125,000 1864 5Q.000 I
1 50,000 1868 75,000
250,000 1872 50,000
9 50.000 1876 900,000
1,100,0(10 ISBO 355,000
1.300,000 1884 1.400.000
1.315,000 18SS 555.000
1,850,000 1892 2.350.000
16,500.000 1896 425,000
9,500.000 1900 425,000
3,500,000 190 4 1.250,000
I 1,700,000 190 S 750.000 I
1,075,000 1912 850,000
2.212,535 1916 1.400.000
5,313,729 1920 1,318.274
In j>ttr campaigns only, does it appear
from the records, have the Republicans ad
mitted expenditures exceeding the three mil
lion that Mr. Butler now describes as a ‘'mod
est sum.” Mr. Taft’s campaign fund in 1908
was only $1,700,000, and the combined ex
penditures of Taft and Roosevelt in 1912
were onlv $1,075,000.
The campaigns in which the Republicans
Admitted te expenditures c.v ceding three mil-
Fixit, who will quick
ly and cheerfuly see
that things are made
right.
We want every sub
scriber to get The Tri-
Weekly Journal reg
ularly and punctual
ly. We want all of
them to receive what
they have paid for.
We want only satis
fied subscribers. A
small percentage of
errors are unavoid
able, but we want to
correct them quickly.
Address,
THE ATI.AVIA TIU-W I.EK LY jOCK.xAh
lion dollars were notable chiefly for the cor
rupt use of money. The scandalous cam
paign of 1596, in which Mark Hanna ad
mitted the expenditures amounting to $16.-
500,000 in order to defeat William J. Bryan,
stands in a class by itself in the extravagant
use of money to corrupt the electorate. Even
so, however, Bryan in that campaign polled
the largest popular vote ever received by a
Democratic candidate. Again in 1900, the
Republican war chest disbursed nearly $lO,-
000,000, in order to assure the re-election of
McKinley.
The admission of Mr. Butler that the Re
i publicans expect to spend three million in
the present campaign is in effect an admis
sion that their candidate has little to com
mend him to the people of America. When
Mr. Hughes led the Republican forces against
President Wilson in 1916, the money barons
and trust magnates who usually support the
Republican party thought so highly of Mr.
Hughes as a candidate that they believed he
could win with a nominal and respectable
campaign fund. Evidently in this campaign
these same interests can see nothing in Mr.
Coolidge to really recommend 1 him, so they
are putting out the money.
But money doesn’t always win in nation
al elections, as instance both of Wilson cam
paigns, in which the Republicans spent twice
as much money as the Democrats only to.suf
fer defeat on election day.
It would be absurd to suppose or even sug
gest that any presidential campaign can be
successfully conducted without money. The
Democrats have always recognized this, but
be it said to the everlasting credit of the par
ty, its leaders have never resorted to the fla
grant and extravagant use of money to cor
rupt the electorate. In the present campaign,
National Chairman Shaver and his associates,
are trying to raise funds sufficient to enable
them to conduct a legitimate campaign
along honorable and economical lines. They
have never contemplated raising any sum
comparable to that mentioned by Republican
Chairman Butler, as necessary successfully to
conduct the Coolidge campaign.
Maybe it is well that Mr. Shaver and his
associates planned an economical campaign,
because thus far they have experienced great
difficulty in getting money, so that today
they are appealing to Democrats all over the
country to send in generous contributions.
Mr. Shaver has set $1,500,000 as the size of
the war chest that the party requires, and
although up to today only $300,000 has been
subscribed, the finance committee entertains
high hopes of raising the required sum. The
steady improvement in the political situation
as regards the candidacy of John W. Davis
is stimulating a deep interest among Demo
crats, which is being reflected in increasingly
large campaign contributions by individuals.
QUIZ
Any Tri-Weekly Journal reader can
get the answer to any question puzzling
him by writing to The Atlanta Journal
Information Bureau, Frederic J. Has
kin, director, Washington, ]). C., and
inclosing a two-cent stamp for return
postage. DO NOT SEND IT TO OUR
ATLANTA OFFICE.
Q. How many building and loan associa
tions are there in the United States? A.
M. H.
A. As of June 31, 1 923, according to the
data of the United States League of Local
Building and Loan Associations, there were
10.009 such associations in this country.
Q. What is the difference between light
opera and comic opera? Which is "Blossom
Time?” C. W. B.
A. Comic opera is a literal translation of
the French opera comique, which is opera
having a happy ending and in which the
dialogue is spoken. It is not necessary that
the piece introduce any really comic scenes.
Light opera or operetta Is generally of buffo
character. Originally operas were of one act
only. The series of Gilbert & Sullivan
operettas set the fashion for pieces of the
kind in two acts. "Blossom Time” was play
as a comic opera.
Q. How are sizes of shoes calculated?
L. N.
A. 1 here are three general systems for
measuring shoes: English, used in England
and the United States; American; French.
The French unit length is the Paris point
equaling 2-3 of a centimeter or approximate
ly 4-15 of an inch, 15 points or sizes being
about 4 inches. 'I he English and American
measure is 1-3 of an inch, the former count
ed from the 4-inch mark, while the latter is
counted from the 3 11-12-inch mark. It has
been suggested that the English measure be
universally used. Tn the English measure,
the sizes run from 1-13 for children. For
adults, they continue in a new series. Size
13 is therefore 8 1-3 inches long, while an
adult size 5 is 10 inches.
Q. Is goat’s milk a satisfactory substitute
for cow’s milk? R. S. N.
A. Tn taste, goat's milk is like rich cow's
milk, except that it is somewhat whiter and
a trifle sweeter. The uninitiated would not
be able to it from cow's milk
either by' taste or odor. It is slightly' more
viscous than cow's milk, the consistency be
ing smooth like first-run cream. Over
2.000 goats are used by’ various government
hospitals for milk producing purposes. Tu
berculosis sanitariums especially use large
amounts of goat’s milk. Experts declare
that it is a good body builder for patients
suffering from wasting diseases such as tu
berculosis. Goat's milk being alkaline in its
reaction, the same as human milk, is about
the best substitute for mother's milk for
babies. The curd of goat's milk being tender
and flaky, is digested in the shortest possi
ble time. It is pure and wholesome, can
safely be taken in a raw state. Goats are
considered immune from tuberculosis, so
their milk needs no pasteurizing and runs
no danger of losins' any of its vitamines or
having any of its lime salts altered by the
application of heat.
Q. Is the ehanlain of the U. S. S. Maine,
"hi-h sank in Havana harbor, still living?
H. S. L.
A. Manager J. P. Chadwick. D.D.. still
lives and was. during the winter, inangu
’ ited •’s president of the College of New
Ro-hePe.
O How closely related are the Kins: of
’ and the former Kaiser of Germanv?
A. K. L.
A. Titov are first cousins. beins grand
sons of th<*> la*o Queen Victoria, of England.
The Second Mrs. Strong
BY HAZEL DEY:) B\CHELOR
Synopsis of preceding chapters.—Mat
thew Strong marries his stenog
rapher, Julie Benton, and ■when he
brngs her home after the honey
moon his daughter Claudia, does ev
erything-in her power to make things
uncomfortable for her new stepmother.
It isn't long before Matthew begins to
feel that, lie has made a mistake, and
this feeling is heightened by tile knowl
edge that, he might have married Mar
garet Davenport, a woman in his own
class. In the meantime, Bradford
Pierce, a friend of Matthews, is kind to
Julie and under his influence she begins
the business of making herself over.—
Now go on with the story.
CHAPTER XXV
Claudia's New Plan
IT was true Julie had made amazing
strides in an incredibly short time, but
with Matthew her manner was still silent
and constrained. It is doubtful, artyway,
whether Matthew would have noticed any
perceptible change in her unless his atten
tion was called to it in some unusual way,
for the difference in her was subtle, and
Matthew was preoccupied with other things.
Furthermore there was little intimacy be
tween himself and Julie. They rarely saw
each other alone, and there had been no ca
resses exchanged between them in some
time.
When Julie thought of this, she almost
despaired. She saw her husband slipping
away from her before she had been given a
fair chance to hold him, and yet unhappy
though she was she struggled on desperately
toward the goal she had get herself.
Bradford Pierce helped her. He often
dropped in at tea-time and talked with her
about current, events, or the new books, or
the opera. He discovered that Julie had an
intelligent mind, and that when her develop
ment was complete, she would be an un
usually interesting woman. There were times
when his imagination slipped out from un
der control, and he dreamed what travel
might do for her. In that way she would be
able to make up for her lack of education,
and he thought, of the pleasure he might ex
perience in unfolding the panorama of the
world before her eyes. But it was seldom
that he allowed himself the luxury of such
thoughts. Somehow they vaguely disturbed
him. There was something too personal
about them, and Julie was Matthew's wife.
He mustn't forget that.
Julia longed for a woman confidante.
Pierce was her only real friend, and she had
no one else to whom she might go for coun
sel. Since her marriage she had gone twice
to her old home in Brooklyn, but her family
with the exception of her mother, showed a
fierce independence where she was con
cerned.
The girls scoffed at her clothes, and at
her new manner. Much as they needed help,
they refused it scornfully. They accused her
bitterly of being "up-stage,” and Martha had
voiced the feelings of the rest when she had
said angrily:
"Don't come here and try to play Lady
Bountiful. We don’t want your charity.
Why don’t you invite us to your home if you
don’t think yourself so much bette” than we
are?”
And Julie had flushed, feeling the fairness
of this accusation even though she was help
less to do anything about it. Her mother,
however, had been different. Without much
trouble Julie had persuaded her to accept
money at regular intervals, and the knowl
edge of this helped to quiet her conscience.
After all, would it do any good to invite her
sisters and brother out to Brompton Manor?
Would they be happy in being invited?
Wouldn’t they feel helpless and out of
place? And most important of all, it wasn't
as if (hey yearned to be different. They
were contented as they were. She had been
the changeling, the only one in the family
who had wanted tilings to be different, who
had longed for beauty and a chance to ex
press herself.
Julie's friendship with Bradford Pierce
had been going on for some time when
Claudia came in that afternoon and found
them having tea together. At first Claudia
had thought nothing of this friendship. She
knew that her father was aware of it, and
that in their circle it was no uncommon
thing. Besides she thought Bradford stupid
and ultra-conventional. But as she had lin
gered in the doorway a new thought had
struck her. Why couldn't she use this
friendship for her own ends? The change
in Julie had been alarming, disconcerting.
Why couldnt' she assume that it was due to
Bradford Pierce? If she could bring her
father to see that, and sow in his mind the
seeds of discord, perhaps she might bring
about a separation between them through
other means than she had thought out in the
beginning.
CHAPTER XXVI
The Country Club Dance
ROBERT came home for the Easter holi
days. and because he was too young to
have standards, there developed be
tween him and Julie a shy friendship. She
loved Matthew’s son for himself, as well as
for the fact that he was like Matthew, and
she was freer with him than she was with
any one save Bradford Pierce.
Os course, she saw little of him, and he
was shy of exhibiting emotions. But once
when he stormed into the house she slipped
her ami around his neck, and when he drew
back to look up into her face, she apolo
gized with quick frankness.
"I'm sorry. Bob, I know you boys hate
to be fussed over.”
‘‘Oh, that's all right," he responded abash
edly. "As long as none of the fellows hap
pened to be here, I don't mind.” And he
had grinned up at her and squeezed her
around the waist. Julie remembered that
for days afterward.
‘‘Say." he said to her once. "How do you
stand Claudia? That up-stage manner of
hers. You'd think she was a queen or
something.”
Julie had laughed, and admonished him
with a remark that after all she was his sis
ter. But after that she had felt a bond be
tween herself and Robert, a bond that was
all too quickly broken because he went back
to school so soon.
She wished vaguely that lie were always
home, that he went to school in the neigh
borhood, bur Matthew wanted him away at
boarding school, and, of course, he knew
best.
During the Easter holidays there had been
a large after-Lenten dance at the Country
club. Julie looked forward to going to this.
She felt more confident of herself, more cer
tain of pleasing Matthew, than she had ever
felt before. But when the days passed and
he said nothing of it, it dawned upon her
that he did not intend to take her.
Claudia was going. She even talked of it
at the dinner table, but Matthew preserved
a studied silence, and Claudio, stealing
glances at Julie, was clad.
“You can make an impression on that old
stick Bradford Pierce, if you like, but dad
isn't taken in by you." ran lief thoughts.
And she was right. Julie's clothes, the
change in her manner, had made no impres
sion upon Matthew. He saw her as she had
been when he married her. and would doubt
less always see her that way.
The night of the dance Julie was up in
her room, when Matthew knocked at her
door and in. It was so unu-'icl for
! THE SEA HAWK
BY RAFAEL SABATINI
[ (Published by Arrangement, With l-’irst. National Pictures,
Ju". Copyrighted by Houghton-Mifflin Company.)
CHAPTER VI (Continued.)
MONEY enough to buy Jasper Leigh
was ready to Lionel's hand, but it
was Sir Oliver's money-—the money
that was placed at Lionel’s disposal by his
ha 1 t’-brot iier’s open-handed bounty. And this
money he was to employ for Oliver’s utter
ruin! He cursed himself for a. filthy, con
temptible hound; he cursed the foul fiend
that whispered such suggestions into his
mind; he knew himself, despised himself and
I reviled himself until he came to swear to
be strong and to go through with whatever
might await, him sooner than be guilty of
such baseness; the next, moment that same
resolve would set him shuddering again as
he viewed the inevitable consequences that
must attend it.
Suddenly the captain set him a question,
very softly, that fired the train and blew all
his lingering self-resistance into shreds.
"You’ll ha’ borne my warning to Sir Oli
|ver?” he asked, lowering his voice so as not
to be overheard by the vintner who was stir
j ring beyond the thin wooden partition.
Master Lionel nodded, nervously fingering
the jewel in his ear, his eyes shifting from
their consideration of the seaman’s coars?,
| weather-tanned and hairy countenance.
“1 did,” he said. “But Sir Oliver is head-
| strong. He will not stir.”
"Will he not?” The captain stroked his
bushy red beard and cursed profusely and
horribly after the fashion of the sea. “ ’Oil’s
wounds. He’s very like to swing if he bides
1 him here.”
“Aye.” said Lionel, “if lie bides.”
He felt his mouth turn dry as he spoke;
| his heart thudded, but its thuds were soft
| ened by a slight insensibility which the
, liquor had produced in him.
He uttered the words in so curious a tone
I that the sailor’s dark eyes peered at him
from under his heavy sandy eyebrows. There
was .alert inquiry in that glance. Master
Lionel got up suddenly.
"Let us take a turn outside, captain,”
said he.
The captain’s eyes narrowed. He scented
business. There was something plaguily odd
about this young gentleman’s manner. He
tossed off the remains of his sack, slapped
i flown the pot and rose.
"Your servant, Master Tressilian,” said
he.
Outside our gentleman untethered his
horse from the iron ring to which he had
attached the bridle: leading his horse he
turned seaward and strode down the road
that wound along the estuary toward
I Smithick.
A sharp breeze from the north was whip
ping the water into white peaks of foam;
. the sky was of a hard brightness and the
sun shone brilliantly. The tide was running
out. and the rock in the very neck of the
haven was thrusting its black crest above
the water. A cable’s length this side of it
rode the black hull and naked spars of the'
’ Swallow—Captain Leigh’s ship.
Lionel stepped along in silence, very
gloomy and pensive, hesitating even now.
And the crafty mariner reading this hesita
tion and anxious to conquer it for the sake
of such profit as he conceived might lie in i
the proposal which he scented, paved the
way for him at last.
"I think that ye ll have some matter to
propose to me,” said he slyly. "Out with it, ■
sir, for there never was a man more ready j
to serve you.”
"The fact is.” said Lionel, watching the
other's face with a sidelong glance, "I am I
in a difficult position, Master Leigh.”
"I've been in a many,” laughed the cap
tain, "but never yet in one through which
1 could not win. Strip forth your own, and
haply I can do as much for you as I am
wont to do for myself.”
"Why, it is this wise,” said the other.
"My brother will assuredly hang as you have
said if he bides him here. He is lost if they
bring him to trial. And in that case, faith, I
I am lost, too. It dishonors a man’s family i
to have a member of it hanged. ’Tis a hor
rible thing to have happen.”
"Indeed, indeed!” the sailor agreed en-[
cou ragingly.
"I would abstract him from this,” pursued .
Lionel, and at the same time cursed the foul
find that prompted him such specious words'
to cloak his villainy. "I would abstract him
from it, and yet ’tis against my conscience
that he should go unpunished, for I swear
to you, .Master Leigh, that I abhor the deed
—a cowardly, murderous deed!”
"Ah!” said the captain. And lest that
grim ejaculation should check Us gentle
man he made baste to add:
“To be sure! To be sure!”
Master Lionel stopped and faced the other
squarely, his shoulders to his horse.
"I'll be quite plain and open with you,
Master Leigh. Peter Godolphin was my
friend. Sir Oliver is no more than my half
brother. I would give a deal to the man
who would abstract Sir Oliver secretly from
the doom that hangs over him, and yet do
the thing in such away that Sir Oliver
should not thereby escape the punishment
he deserves.”
The captain looked grim. He laid a fin
ger upon Master Lionel's velvet doublet in
line with that false heart of his.
"I am your man,” said he. “But the risk
is great. Yet ye say that ye'd give a
deal”—
"Yourself shall name the price,” said
Lionel quickly, his eyes burning feverishly, ’
his cheeks white.
"Oh, I can contrive it, never r.” said
the captain. “I know to a nicety what you
require. How say you now—if I was to
carry him overesas to the plantations where
they lack toilers of just such thews as bis?"
He lowered his voice and spoke with some
slight hesitation, fearing that he proposed, 1
perhaps more than his prospective employer
might desire.
"He might return,” was the answer that
dispelled all doubts on that score.
‘Ah!” said the skipper. "What o’ the
Barbary rovers, then? They lack slaves and '
are ever ready to trade, though they be
niggardly payers. I never heard of none
that returned once they had him ease
aboard their galleys. I ha’ done some
him to do this that the color swept into her
face and her heart beat fast.
"I'm going to run over to the club for a
while,” he said evenly. "Claudia needs some
one to watch out for her, and, of course, I
knew that you wouldn't want to go.”
For a moment Julie was silent. Then,
with her new-found courage, she spoke.
"What made you think I wouldn't want
to go. Matthew? I did want to go. I was
looking forward to it. But you didn't say
anything, and I thought perhaps you weren t
planning on it.”
She waited for him to answer. There was
still time, and there was her new evening
dress made by Lucienne all ready for her to
slip into. If only he would speak, if only
he would voice his surprise and suggest that
she get ready.
But Matthew did no such thing. The truth
of the matter was that he had said some
thing to Margaret Davenport about seeing
her there, and Julie's presence would be
nothing but an intrusion.
“Too bad." he said lightly. "I wish I had
known before. Well. I won't stay 1 ig, al
though i shouldn't advise you to wait up for
me."
Tne«<l.K—Strange Tangle" and "Clau
dia Meets a 'lnn.” Renew your subscription
now to axoid missing a chapter. |
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23. D)i! t.
OLD-TIME
BY BISHOP W.
SENSUAL AND SPIRITUAL EMOTION
IN explanation of the ifact that religious
fervor is less common with the present
generation than with its forbears it is
often said emotion is less and intellectuality
greater in our day.
But this is a mistaken view. No genera
tion was ever more emotional than is the
present.
Men, women and children crave the ex
citement of their emotions, and pay to have
their sensibilities stirred.
Books of serious significance, that pro
voke thought, are by no means sought, with
the eagerness with which shallow and super
ficial volumes that, appeal to this baser sen
sibilities are desired and devoured.
Humorous publications , are prized far
above works on history or treaties on phi
losophy, or discussions of theology.
The emotions are debauched by the mat
ters upon which they are bestowed. Truth
and right and purity are set aside for
"th rills.”
Recently the Nashville (Tenn.) Tennes
sean published a suggestive article showing
specimens of. degraded sensibilities. The ed
. itor said:
"Up in Grand Rapids a woman—a wife
and mother—is under arrest because she
stole dresses from a department store—not
because her circumstances influenced her to
do so, but because she wanted the ‘thrill
of it.'
"In Maine a fine young boy was caught,
while driving a bootlegger's automobile. He
wasn’t a member of the gang. He cared
nothing about, liquor and did not drink
himself, or sell drink to others. He liked
‘the thrill’ of being chased by the prohibi
tion officers and just ‘stepping on ’er.’
"In a little town of the middle west a
boy of 14 is in the hands of the constable
because he has been scattering tacks and
screws along a much-traveled highway adja
cent to town, much to the damage of auto
mobile tires and otherwise comparatively
good dispositions. He had no feeling of ill
will against machine or driver, just liked
to hear the hiss and pop of air-filled tires
and the vocal outbursts of outraged auto
ists. He liked ‘the thrill’ of it.
"A young man in New York has been
caught by the police, after a long quest.
He had set fire to some twenty-odd empty
houses. He was possessed by an irresistible
desire to hear the clatter of fire apparatus,
the shouts and screams of men and women,
and to see the rush of crowds and the roll
of the ominous smoke. He liked ‘the thrill’
of it.”
These instances of unwholesome emotion
alism are not unlike the cases of Loeb and
Leopold, the youthful murderers who were
tried in Chicago some weeks ago and sen- j
tenced to imprisonment for life. They kid
naped and slew a defenseless schoolboy for
the "thrill” of the thing. The lawyer who
defended them sought to excuse their hid
eous crime by attributing it to demoralized
emotions. He admitted that they were
young men of superior intellects, but af-|
firmed that their sensibilities were incapa-,
ble of responding to thoughts of right and
wrong. He affirmed that their minds were
strong but their moral natures were wholly
confused and enfeebled on this account.
It |is quite probable that the zeal of the j
advocate moved their attorney to press this
view to an extreme. But there is no ques
tion that. Loeb and Leopold were deranged
to a degree in the realm of their feelings. |
They felt not for the things of right and
wrong, but craved and indulged the most
intense feelings for base matters.
Popular education is taking too little ac
count of the necessity of cultivating the j
emotions while informing and quickening:
the intellect. By consequence there is a
prevalent much lopsided culture, out. of I
which immortality and crime spring inevit-j
ably.
POINTED PARAGRAPHS
It’s awfully hard to find your confidence
after it has been misplaced.
Many a man's failure has been spoiled by
his wite'fe success.
To err is human; failure to profit by the
error is ditto.
When a man treats V is wife kindly she
imagines that he is concealing a confession
that he ought to make.
trading with them, bartering human
freights for spices and eastern carpets and
the like.”
Master Lionel breathed hard.
" ’Tis a horrible fate is't not?”
The captain stroked his beard.
"Yet 'tiiS the onlv really safe bestowal,
and when all is said 'tis not so horrible as
Hanging, and certainly less dishonoring to a
man’s kin. Ye’d be serving Sir Oliver and
yourself.”
"’Tis so, ’tis so,” cried Master, Lionel al
most fiercely. “And the price?”
The seaman shifted on his short, sturdy
legs, and his face grew pensive.
"A hundred pounds?” he suggested ten
tatively. ~ j
"Done with you for a hundred pounds,
was the prompt answer —so prompt that
Captain Leigh realized he had driven a
fool's bargain which it was incumbent-upon '
him to amend.
"That is, a hundred pounds for myself,” j
he corrected slowly. "Then there be the |
crew to reckon so keep their counsel ;
and lend a hand; ’twill mean another bun-I
dred at the lea.it.”
Master Lionel considered a moment.
‘•‘lt is more than I can lay my hands on
at short notice. But, look you, you shall j
have a hundred and fifty pounds in coin |
and the balance in jewels. You shall not |
be the loser in that, I promise you. And
when you come again and bring me word
that all is done ae you now undertake there
shall be the like again.”
Upon that the bargain was settled. And
when Lionel came to talk of ways and
means he found that he had allied himself;
to a man who understood his business thor- j
oughly. All the assistance that the skipper
asked was that Master Lionel should lure
his gentleman to some concerted spot con- i
veniently near the water side. There Leigh I
would have a boat and hie men in readi
ness, and the rest might very safely be 1
left, to him.
In a flash Lionel bethought him of the ,
proper place for this. He swung round and '
pointed across the water to Trefusis Point i
and the gray pile of Godolphin Court all
bathed in sunshine now.
“sonder, at Trefusis Point in the shadow j
jf Godolphin Court at eight tomorrow |
night, when there will be no moon. . I'll I
see that he is there. But on your life do ,
not miss him.”
"Trust me,” said Master Leigh, “And
the money?”
"When you have him safely aboard come
to me at Penarrow,” he replied, which
showed that after all he did not trust Mas
ter Leigh any further than he was com
pelled.
On that they parted. Lionel mounted
and rode away, whilst Master Leigh made
i trumpet of his hands and hallooed to the
ship.
As he stood waiting for the -boat that
came off to fetch him a smile slowly over
spread the adventurer’s rugged face.
(Continued Tuesday)
RELIGION
4. CANDLER
; Solomon said, "keep thy heart with all
diligence; for out of it are the issues of
i life.” (Proverbs iv:23.) He had wisdom in
’ his head beyond all men, but he cherished
1 sensuality in his heart and thereby ruined
his life and wrecked his family and divided
his kingdom. His heart was all wrong. His
! emotions were wayward. Therefore his life
' became wicked.
The emotions can not be ignored. They
lie near the center of human nature and
i call for satisfaction as really as the body
demands food or the mind requires kr.owl
! edge.
In this fact is found the explanation of
the gambler's life. He craves excitement
- far more than he covets money. He desires <
i every moment to be one of intense feeling.
Other men immerse themselves in politics
from kindred impulse.
Soldiers and statesmen hunger for cam-
; paigns for the sake of excitement.
I In like manner the followers pursue their
constant rounds frohi the city to the water
ing-place and from the watering-place back
to the city for the sake of feeling intensely
without regard to the nature and quality
i of the feeling sought.
What then is the remedy for this dis
eased sensibility? It is to be found in the
noble emotions of religion.
So St. Paul taught, when he said to the
Ephesians, “Be not drunken with wine
wherein is excess; but be filled with the
Spirit.” He proposed spiritual excitement
as the cure for sensual excitement. Such
it is.
And let it be kept always in mind that
[ our emotions by their very nature sensu
alize the Spirit or spiritualize the senses.
Wholesome activity of the emotional na
i Hire springs from within, while debauching
1 sensibilities are excited from without. Coni
-1 menting upon St. Paul’s exhortation to the
Ephesians Frederick Robei;tson, of Bright
on, says, “Wine is but a specimen of a class
of stimulants.”
All that begins from without belongs to
the same class. The stimulus may be af
forded by almost any enjoyment of the
senses. Drunkenness may come from any
thing wherein is excess; from over indul
gence in society, in pleasure, in music, and
in the delight of listening to oratory, nay,
even from the excitement of sermons and
religious meetings. The prophet tells us of
those who are “drunken, and not with
wine.”
Unwholesome emotionalism ends in para
lyzed sensibilities, and. as the emotions be
come duller, artificial expedients are employ
ed to excite them. Pungent amusements are
pursued for pleasure as sharper condiments- '
are required to gratify the faded palate of
the gourmand. We see much of that sort
of debauchery now-a-days.
Spectacles of ever increasing lascivious
ness are exhibited in play-houses, and de
moralizing dances run rapidly to the most
wanton excesses.
The present generation has lost to a great
degree all religious joy, but it runs wildly
after every other sort of emotion. It is
open to the censure which the prophet
passed in God’s name on ancient Israel
when he said. “My x people have committed
two evils; they have forsaken me the foun»
tain of living water, and hewed them out
cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no
water.” (Jeremiah ii:l3.)
Multitudes have forsaken the water of
life and are’trying to quench at cesspools*
the deathless thirst of their souls.
For us and all men it must always be true
that "the joy of the Lord is our strength.”
(Nehemiah viii:lo.)
We can not maintain decency, let alone
spirituality, when our strength no longer s
finds gladness and strength in God. From
cold souls corrupt conduct flows, always and
everywhere.
JUSTIFYING OPTIMISM
By H. Addington fenice
INTERESTING and most, suggestive are
the findings of a novel investigation un
dertaken by a British psychologist and
reported by him at a recent meeting of
scientists.
For a month, at the request of the psy
chologist, Prof! J. C. Flugel, of London uni
versity, nine persons kept close record in
note-books of the sensations experienced
during their waking hours. Everything that
gave them an appreciable feeling of pleas
antness or unpleasantness went into the rec
ord at the time of its occurrence.
At the end of this investigation period •
the note-books were turned over to Prof.
Flugel, who proceeded to analyze their con
tents. He found in them ample justification
lor those who contend that the pleasant in
life far outweighs the unpleasant.
Os all the experiences and accompanying
sensations listed 67.72 per cent were pleas
ant ones, and only 32.28 unpleasant. More
over, studying the returns by individuals and
not as a whole, Prof. Flugel found that the
person who reported the lowest number of
pleasant, sensations had nevertheless scant
reason for turning pessimist. To quote from
a summary of Prof. Flugel’s conclusions: i
"The tabulator divided the feelings in
his nine note-books into seven classes rang
ing from plus 3, represen’ing the most ex
treme pleasure to minus 3, indicating the
exact opposite. The happiest man of the
nine spent 1 1-2 per cent of his time in
a plus 3 condition.
“In his life there was 56 per cent of
pleasure, 3 1-2 per cent of lack of any
particular feeling, and only 6 1-2 per cent «
of ‘unpleasure.’ The gloomiest man of them
ail was happy 46 per cent of the time, and
just as definitely unhappy 36 per cent of
the time.”
Manifestly, findings such as these are of
varied practical applicability, and perhaps
particularly significant in their bearing on
the "persuasion treatment” of the habitual
ly gloomy. They strongly reinforce, for ex- 4
ample, the advice that the celebrated Dubois
of Berne used to give patients afflicted
chiefly with worry:
"Every night, the last thing before you
go to bed, put on one side of an imaginary
scales all the unpleasant things that have
happened during the day. On the other
side, put all the pleasant things.
"You will find, if you are honest with
yourself, that the latter weigh down the
former, and consequently that it is foolish
and wrong to worry as you do.”
The Flugel report unmistakably goes to
vindicate Dubois’ insistent optimism. And
while, owing to the fact that it is based on
the experiences of only a few people, it may
reasonably be objected that this rcpiyrts
lacks absolute finality, it will no doubt in
spire similar researches on a larger scale
against the findings of which no similar ob
jection can be raised.
(Copyright, 1924.)
A writer who spent some time in Teheran
tells how he was received in audience Wy thw *
shah of Persia, who said he contemplated
coming to England and inquired if there
were any elephants there, as he wanted to
shoot c.,ne. When eventually he did come to
England he was taken to the Tower of Lon
don. He was greatly interested in the old
block and ax and said he wanted to see
some one beheaded. On being told there
was nobody ready at the moment, he prompt
ly ordered one of hi-5 own re' : '>r ■ and was
very annoyed when the officials refused his
request.