Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 9 August 1877 — Page 7

PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE.

A Novel of Thrilling Interest About the Great Strikes in England.

UY CHARLES READE,,

Coutlnuel

nius

from l^Mt Issue

CKAPriK III.

Nor

OF oi

The sorrowful widow was so fond her little llenry, and the uncertainty life was so burnt into her now, that could hardly bear him out of her sight. Yet her love was of the true maternal stamp not childish and sell indulgent. She kept him from school, lor fear he should be brought home dead to her out she gave her own mind with zeal to educate him.

she

was she unqualified. If

she had jess learning than s^nool masters, she knew better huw to communicate what she did know to a buddiug mind. She Uught him to read fluently, and to write beautifully mid she coaxed him, as only a woman can' over the drv elements ot music and arithmetic. She also taught him dancing and deportment, "and to sew on a button lie wa a quick boy at nearly e\crythjftig, but. when lie was tourteen, Ins true ge­

went ahead of his mere talents he showed'a heaven-born gilt lor—carving hi wood. 1 his nleased Joseph Little hugely, and he fostered it judiciously. l'he boy worked, and thought, and time ariived at sucli delicacies of execution he became discontented with the humdrum tools then current. 'Then learn to make vour own, boy, cried |o-eph Little, ioytully and so initiated iijini into the whole mystery o» hardening iortjing. grinding Handle-making, ana cutlery: and llenry, young and enthusiI astic, took his tl»rn at them alf in right down earnest. i* At twenty, he had sold many a piece of delicate carving, and could make gra-vin'-too.8 incomparably superior

carving,

10

any

he cauld buy and, ior his age, was an accomplished mechanic. Joseph Little went th- way ot all flesh. ... l'hev mourned and missed him, anu, at llenrv's earnest request, lub lnothei disposed' of the plant, and went with him to London.

Then the battle oi IHe began. He was I

a

Ion time out of employment, and they both lived on his mother's little fortune.

Hut

llenry was never idle. He set up a little forge hard by, and worked at it bv day, and at night he would oiten su

while his mother read to him

and said he, "Mother, I'll never rest till 1 can carve he bloom upon a plum. Not to dwell on the process, the final I lesult was this. He rose at last to eminence as a carver: but as an inventor and orger of carving-tools he had no rival in

Knuland. I laving with great labor, pat ence, and I skill, completed a master-piece of carv I

in"

(there were plums with the bloom lon° and other incredibles), and also a set of carving-tools equally exquisite in their wav. he got a popular tradesman to exhibit both the work and th- tools in his window, on a huge silver salvet.

The thing made a good al ot noise Ithe trade, and drew many spectators to |the shop window.

OnedavMr. Cheetham, a mastercutler, stood in admiration before the tools, and saw his way to coin th^ work1 man.

This Cheetham was an able man. a id I aid to himself, "I'll nail him lor Hillsborough, directly. London mustn have a hand that can beat us at anything in lour line

He found Henry out, and offered him constant employment, as a forIger and cutler of carving-tools, at £4 per

W|Ienry's

black eyes sparkled, but he

Irestrained himself. "That's to be thought lof. I must speak to my old lady. She lis not at home just now." I He did speak to her, and she put her •two hands together and said, "Hillsbo •rough! Oh! Henry!" and the tears •stood in her eyes directly. "Well, don't fret, said he: "it is saying no."

only

So when Mr. Cheetham called replv, Henry declined, On this, Mr. Cheetham

Iper

for the thanks. moved, but smiled, and ottered week, and his journey free.

again with never

him .6

ari'6ther matte a week

Henry went into room, and argued the |uCome, nKJther, he is up to £6 now and that is every shilling I'm worth an when I get an apprentice, it will be £0 clear to us." "Ths sight of the place!" objected Mrs

Little, hiding her lace in her hands instinctively. He kissed her, and talked good manly sense to her. and begged her to have more courage.

She was little able to deny him, and she consented but cried, out ol his sight, a good many titues about it.

As for,llenry, strong in the consciousness of power and skill, he felt glad he was going to Hillsborough "Many a workman has risen to the top of ihe tree in that place," said he. Why, this very Cheetham was grinding saws»n a waterwheel ten years ago, I've heard uncle Joe say. Comfi, n.o tier, don you be a babv! I'll settle you in a college outside the "smoke you shall make a palace ol it. and we'll rise in the very town where we fell, and friends and foe# shall see us.'

Mr. Cheetham purcha-ed both the carving and the tools to exhibit in Hillsborough and the purchase-money, less a heavy commission, was paid to Henry, He showed Mrs. Little thirty pounds and helped htr pack up and next day thev reached Hillsborough by train. llenrv took a close cab, and carried his mothei off to the suburbs in search, of a lodging. She wore a thick veil, and laid her head on her son's shoulder, and held his brown though elegant hand with her white fingers, that quivered a little as she passtd through the wellknown streets.

As for Henry, he felt quite triumphant and grand, ard consoled her in an ofthand hearty way. Come, cheer up, and" face the music Thev have all forgotten you by this time, aufl,"when they do see vou again, you •hall be as good as the best of them. I. don't drink, and I've got a trade all to myself here, and I'd rather make my fortune in this towiv than any other: and, mother, vou have been a good friend to me I won't ever marry till I have done you justice, and made you the queen of this very town."

And so he rattled on, in such high spirits, that the great soft thing began to,

6mile

with motherly love and

pride through her tears, ere they fou^d a! lodging. Next day to the works, and thei tne foreman showed him a small forge on the ground floor, and a vacant room above to maice h's handles in and put the tools together: the blades were to be ground, whetted and finished by cheaper hands

A quick-eared grinder soon came up to them, and said roughly, "Ain't we to wet new forge?" "They want their drink out of you," said the foreman and whispered in great anxietv, "Dont say no, or you might as well work in a wasp's nest as here." "All right," said Henry cheerfully. I'm not a drinker myself, but I'll stand what is cusomary." "['hat is right," said Foreman Bavne. "'Twill cost you fifteen shillings. But Peace is cheap at as many guineas."

The word was given, and every man who worked on the same tloor with Henryjjfurned out to drink at his expense, and left off work for a good hour. With some exceptions they were a rough lot, and showed little friendliness or good humor over it. One even threw out a hint that no cockney forges were wanted in Hillsborough. But another took him up and s.aid, '"Maybe not but oft a piece, and worked on the rest so cunningly with his various cutteis, that it grew into a human face towards their very eves. He even indicated Jael Deuce's little Hat cap by a means at once simple and ingenious. All the lime he working the women's eyes literally absorbed him: only those of Qrace flashed vivid curiosity, Jael's open orbs were fixed with admiration and awe upon his supernatural cleverness.

He now drew some more arabesques 011 the remaining part of the board, and tod Miss Carden she must follow those outlines w.-with the saw and he would examine her work on Monday morning. lie then went off with a quick indeptnden air, as one whose every minute was gold. "If yi please, Miss," said Jael, 'is he a real working man, or only a gentleman as makes it his pastime?" •'A gentleman! What an idea! Of course he is a workingman. But a very superior person." "To be sure," continued Jael, not quite convinced, "he don't come up to Squire Raby but, de«* heart, he lave a grander, way with him than motof the Hillsborough folks ae calls here." "Nonsense!" said Grace, Buthoritave-' ly. "Look at his nails."

Henrv came twice a week, and his pupil made remaikable progress. She was deferential, attentive, enthusiastic.

By degrees the work led 'o a little conversation- and that in due course, expanded into a varietv of subjects and the young lady, to her surpsise, found ler carver well-read in History and Sciences, ai'd severely accuratt in his information, whereas her own, though abundant, was rather loose.

One day sh expressed her surprise that he could have found time to be so clever with his fingers and yet cultivate his mind. "Well," said he, "I was lucky enough 'o have a good mother. She taught me all she knew, and she'gave me a taste for reading and that has been the making ot me kept me out of the public-house, for one thing." "Ah! you were fortunate. I lost my mother, sir, when I was but eight years old" "Oh dear, that was a bad job,' said Henry brusquely but kindly. "A very bad job," said Grace, smiling but the next moment she suddenly turned her fair head awav and tears stole down her cheeks.

Henry looked very sorry, and Jael, without moving, looked at Grace, and opened those sluices, her eyes, and two big drops of sympathy rolled down her comely face in a moment.

That day, when young Little shut 4he street-door of "Woodbine Villa and stepped into the road, a sort of dull pain seemed to traverse his chest It mfide his heart ache a little, his contrast ot the sweet sbciety he had left and the smoky town towards which he now turned his face. He seemed 'o be ejected from Paradise for the next five days. It was Monday, yet he wished the next day was Saturday, and tke intervening period could be swept away, so that he might be entering that soft Paradise instead of leaving it.

And this sentiment, once rooted, grew rapidly in an aspiring nature, and a heart that had never yet entertained a serious passion. Nov the fair head that bowed over the work so near him, the lovely hand he had so often to direct, and almost to guide, and all the other perfections of mind and body this enchanting girl posessed. crept in'at his admiring eyes, and began to steal into his very veins, and fill him with soft complacency. His brusque manner dissolved away, and his voice became low and soft, whentver he was in her delicious presence. He spoke softly to Jael even, if Grace was there. The sturdy workman was enthralled.

Often he wondered at himself. Sometimes he felt alarmed at the strength of his passion and the direction it had taken* -Wiiat," said he, "Have I flirted with so many girls in my own way of life, and come awav heart-whole,and now to

But these misgivings could neither cure him nor cow him. Let him oniy make money and become a master in stead of a workman, a jd then he would say to her, "I don't value birth myself, but If vou do, whv, I ain not come of orkpeople."

He traced a plan with workmanlike precision:— ProfouncLdiscretion and self-restraint at "Woodbine Villa:" restless in ustry and em sell—denial io Hillsborough.

After his day's work he used to go straight to his mother. She gave him a cup of tea, and then they had their chat and after that the sexes were inverted, so to speak: the man carved fruit, and flowers, and dead woodcocks, the woman read the news and politics of the day, and the essays on labor and capital, and anv other ai tides not too flimsy to bear reading aloud to a man whose time was coin. (There was a free library in Hillsborough, and a mechanic could take out standard books and reviews.) Thus they passed the evening hours agreeably, and usefully too, for Henry sucked in knowledge like a leech, and at the same time carved things that sold well in London. He had a 9trcng inclination to open his heart about Miss Carden. Accordingly,

on« evening he said,

when 6he was a child.1' "Who lost her mother?" asked Mrs. Little. "Miss Carden," said Henry, very softly.

The tone was not lost on Mrs. Little's fine and watchful ear at least her mind seized it a few seconds afterwards. "That is true," said she. "Poor girl! I remember hearing of it. Henry, what is that to you? Don't you trouble your head about that young lady, or she will trouble vour heart. I wish you did not go near her."

And then came question upon question and vague maternal misgivings. Henry parried ihem as adroitly as he could, but never mentioned Miss Carden's name again.

He thought of her all the more, and counted his gains every week, and bega" to inquire of experienced persons how much money was was wanted to set up a wheel with steam power, and be a master instead of a man. He gathered that a stranger could hardly start fair without £500. "That is a good lump thought Henry "but I'll have it, if I work night as well as day.

Thus inspired, his life became a sweet delirium. When he walked, he seemed to tread on air when he forged, his hammer felt a feather in his hand. The mountains in the way looked mole-hills, and the raintow tangible, to Youth, and Health, and Hope, and mignty Love.

One'afternoon, as he put on his coat and crossed the yard, after a day's work that had passed like a pleasant hour, being gilded with such delightful anticipations, the foreman ot the works made him a mysterious signal. Henr) saw it. and followed him into his office. Bayne looked carefully out ot all the doors, then closed them softly, and his face betrayed anxiety, and even fear. "Little,"said he, almost in a whisper, •'you know me: I'm a man of peace, and so for love of peace I'm going to do something that might get me into a wrangle. But you are the civilest chap ever worked under me, and the best work man, take vou all together, and I can't bear to see you k^pt in the dark, when you are the man whose skin—only—if I act like a man to you^will you act like one to me?" "I will," said Henry} "there's my hand 011 it.''

Tfcen Bayne stepped to his desk, opened it, and took out some letters. "You must never tell a soul I showed them you, or vou will get me into a row with Cheetham and I want to be at peace in doors as well as out."

I give you my word." "Then read that, to begin." And he handed him a letter addressed to Mr. Cheetham "SIR,—Webej respectfully to diaw your attention to a matter, which is of a nature to cause unpleatantness between you and the Trades We allude to. your "bringing a workman in from another town to do work that we are informed can be done on the premises by your own hands. "We assure you it would be more to vour interest to work in harmony with "the smiths and the handle-makera in your employ, and the trade generally. Yours respectfully, "THE COMMITTEE OF

THE EDGE-TOOL FORGERS' UNION." Henry colored up at this, and looked grieved but he said, "I am sorry to be the cause of any unpleasantness. But what can I do?" "Oh," said Bayne. with a sardonic grin, "they are sure to tell you that, soon or tthe. Read this:"

No.

2

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE.

,fShelost

her mother

was dated a week later, and ran

us: •"Mr. CHEETHAM: SIR,—I think you do very ill to annoy so many craftsmen for one. Remember, you have suffered loss and inconvenience whenever you have gone against Trades. We had to visit you last year, and whtn we came your" bands went and vour bellows gap ed. We have no wish to come again this year, if you will be reasonable. But, sir, ydli mu»t part with London hand, or take consequences.

BALAAM."

Henry looked grave. "Can I see a copy of Mr. Cheetham's reply?" Bavne stared at him, and then laughed in'his face, but withou' the gayety that should accompany a laugh. "Cheetham's reply to Balaam! And where would he" send it? To Mr. Boer's lodgings, No. 1, Prophet Place, Old Testament Square. My poor chap, nobody writes replies to these letters. When you get one, you go that minute to the secretary of whatever Union you are wrong, with, and you don't argue, or he bids you good-morning you give in to whatever he aski, and then ou get civility and justice t«»o, according to Trade lights. If

you

don't do that, and haven't

learned what a blessing Peace is, why, you make up your mind to fight the Trade and if you do, you have to fight them all and"}ou are safe to get the worse ot it, soon or late. Cheetham has taken no notice of these letters. All the worst for him and jrou too. Read that."

N«t 3

ran

thus:

fall

in love with a gentlewoman, who would bid her footman show me the door if she knew of my presumption 1'

"DEAR SIR,—I take the liberty of addressing you on the subject of your keep ing on this knob-stick, in defiance of them that has the power to make stones of Hillsborough too hot for you and him. Are vou deaf, or blind, or a fool, Jack Cheatem? You may cheat the world, but vou don't cheat the devi!, nor me. Turn cockney up, with no more ado. or you'll both get kicked to hell some dark night by BALAAM'S ASS."

Henry was silent quite silent. When he did speak, it was to ask why Mr. Cheetham had kept all this from him. "Because you shouldn't take fright and leave him," was the unhesitating reply. "For tha*. matter they threaten him more tnan they do me." "They warn the master first but the workman's turn is sure to come, and he gets it hottest, because they have so nianwavs of doing him. Cheetham, he lives "miles from here, and ride# in across country, and out again, in daylight. But the days are drawing in, and you have got to pass through these dark streets, where the Trades have a thousand friends, and you not one. Don't you make any mistake: you are in their power: so pray don't copy any hot-headed, wrong-headed gentleman like Cheetham, but speak them fair. Come to terms—if you can and let us be at peace sweet, balmy peace," "Peace is a good thing, no doubt,' said Henry "but" (rather bitterly) "I don't thank Cheetham for letting me run blindfold into trouble, and me a stranger." '•Oh," said Bayne, "he is no worse than the res't, believe me. What does anv master care fJf a mans life? Profit and

loss go down in figures but life—that's a cipher in all their ledgers." 1 'Oh, come," said Henry, "it is unphilosophical and narrow-minded to fasten on a class the faults of a few individuals, that form a very moderate portion ot that class."

Bay ije seemed staggered by a blow so polysyllabic and Henry, to finish him, adde 1, "Where there's a multitude, there's a mixture." Now the first sentence he had culled from the Edinburgh Review, and the second he hal caught from a fellow-workman's lips in a public house- and probably this was the first time the pair of phrases had ever walked out of any mans mouth arm in aroi. He went on to say, "And as for Cheetham, he is not a bad fellow, take him altogether. But you are abetter for telling me the truth. Forewarned, forearmed." .i-i ..(•?,• A-t

He went home thoughtful, 'Snd not" so triumphant and airy as yesterday but still not dejected, for his voung and' manly mind summoned its energy and spirit to combat this new obstacle, and his wits went to work.

Being unable to sleep for thinking of what he should do he was the first to reafh the works in the morning. He lighted hi* furnace, and then went and unlocked the room where he worked as a handle-maker, and also as a cutler. He entered briskly, and opened the window. The gray light of the morning came in, and showed him something on the inside of tne door that was not there when he locked it overnight It was a very long knife, broad towards the handle, but keenly pointed* and double edged. It was fast in the door, and impaled a letter addressed, in a vile hand— "To JAK THRE TRADES."

Henry took hold of the handle to draw the kniteout but the formidable weapon had been driven clean through the door witn a single bio#.

Then Henry drew back, ar.d, as the confusion of surprise cleared away, the whoie thing began to grow on him. and reveal distinct a.nji alarming lectures.

The knife' was not one which the town manufactured in the way ot business. It was a long, glittering blade, double-ed ed, finely pointed, and exquisitely tempered. It was not a tool, but a weapon.

Why was it there, and above all, how did it come there? He distinctly remelnbered locking the door overnight. Indeed, he had found it locked, and the window-shutters bolted yet there wa this deadly weapon, and on its point a letter, the superscription of which looked hostile and sinister.

He drew the note gently act oss the edge of the keen knife, and the paper parted wke a cobweb. He took it to the window and read it. .It ran thus: "This knifs wun of too made ekspres t'other is for thy hart if thou doseut harken Trade and leve Chetm, is thy skin thicks dore think* thou if not turn up and back to Lundon or I cum again and rip thy -carkiss with

xfeloe

blade to

this thou cokny, .. SLIPER JACK.",.JRJ TO BE CONTINUED.

AN E1HIOPIANGAMLOFDRAW POKER A large crowd gathered at Judge Moss' Court yesterday afternoon to witness the trial of an assault and battery case. The trouble had originated between two negroes at a poker game, and the jury and witnesses weie all of the colored persuasion. John Bennett and and Joe Redman were the defendants, and the latter, being tried by the Court, was convicted and fined $40. This de cision had its effect 011 Bennett, who ie* marked :Guess I'll have a jury. Dis court, am too much for me."

A jury of colored men was accordingly summoned, and the fun began. It was charged that Bennett, while playiug a game of poker with Redman, had drawn a knife and threatened to make th: trouble. Bennett took the stand, and made the following explanation "Ye see, Jedge, we was playin' poker down in the saloon, and we got $6 in de pot, and I had a full hand—free aces and and two queens—Jedge, sure's you sit yer,"

A Juror (rising in his place)—r.Was dish yer sirait or draw? The Witness—Draw.

The Juror—I thought so. The Witness—W^eH, ye see, Jedge— Judge Moss—Turn around and address the jury, sir.

Tne Witness—Yissah. Ye see I held a full, and joe, he held a flush. When I called, he said' "I'se got a flush.'' an' he reacned for de pile. "Hole on, dar," says I, "a lull beats flush." Says he: "You lie!" I jes' pulled out my pipe to take a smoke and argy be point, and he jumped up and grabbed a char—dat's how de row started in.

A Juror—Did he start fur you wid that cheer? The Witness—Well he sorter did for a »pell, and den be sorter let up and stood standin' for me to come.

Redman next to'.k the stand and testified as follows: "Ye se, ledge, I had a flush and John said he had a full hand

Mine was a flush, shuah, Jedge. and so I reconed on de stakes and John he pulled a knife, as 1 'sposed, and I jumped up and grabbled a cheeah to bif him over de head. When I see de knife was only a pipe, I was so 'shemed o' myself I 'jes didn't know what to do."

Judge—Do you mean to say a flush beats a full? 1 ,: The witness—Course I do.

Four jurors at once—How's dat? The witness—It was a sequence flush* Tne four jurors at otjee—Oh! A juror—Did you make any 'greement about a sequence flush before ye staited in to commence on de game at the onset?

Witness—No.. AVe asn't piayin* a chile's game.' The juror sank back amid the laughter of his companions, and then all hands looked owlishly wise for the next three minutes* The case finally went to the jury, who, after settling the relative valut a "sequence flush" and a full," gave a verdict of acquittal

When a Colorado girl sees an article in a newspaper headed, "The beauties of Colorado," she thinks it refers to the girls of the Stare and sets down to read it. But it makes her so mod when 6he discovers that it refers only to the natural scenery that she goes down cellar tp swear about it.—[Oil City Call.

San. Francisco fyw been agitated by noiseless stray bullets, propelled by some invisible agency and flying about the streets to the great inconvenience and danger of pedestrians. It has just been ascertained that small boys practicing with '•parlor rifles" are ai the bottom of the mischief.

4

BEECHER S LABOR SERMON.

|1e Says That Workiagmen Must Unavoidably be Oppressed.

Communism a Deadly Poison, Combina tions Destructive of Individual Liberty, and the Trades Unions'

Demands Unjust—What Pained the Plymouth Pastor all Last

Week.

Frern the New York Son.

Thirty police officers in civilian's dress were in the congregation of Plymouth Church last evening, and a squad of Brooklyn detectives sat on a stoop opposite the main entrance to the edifice. The building was crowded to overflowing with persons who went to hear what Mr. Beecher might say concerning the sermon ef the previous Sunday. Me had in a private letter, which was furnished to l'he Sun foi publication, declaimed any intent'on to injure the feelings of the workihgmen, and had declared that he had been misrepresented. When he took his place behind the bmall desk on the platform of Plymouth Church last evening he was the picture of a man who intended to utter earnest words. He said: "Before I enter upon my dis course to-night I desire to make a remark upon a state of facts concerning my sermon of last Sabbath evening. I have been grossly misrepresented, through carehss reporting, perhaps, and not intentionally, and the misquotations ot my sermon nave been telegraphed all over the country. Swarms of letters have reached me, some of them very obscene some cowardly, written by men who were ashamed of their names, as they ought to be. Some were letters from perbons who assumed to be my friends. They pleaded with me to alter my opinion pt the rights of the workingmen. These appeals are exceedingly painful to me, painful because I knew that I had been misunderstood in what I *aid concerning the working classes, for whom my whole liftf has been spent. [Great applause and a little hissing.] This is the firat time that I have ever referred in explanation of a previous sermon, and I ppeak about it now because 1 will not be put in the wrong in the eyes ot those whose servant I have frver been. [Great applause and a little hissing.] "The passage which has given a catchword to newspipers was thoroughly misrepresented. Neither the spirit of the whole discourse, nor the immediate context, nor the words themselves indicate the odious meaning, which has been widely ascribed to them I hold no such views. I expressed no such views. And to represent me as holding them after this disclaimer, will be a slander as odiQUS and guilty as would be the imputed language, 'lo have taken a time oi general suflering in which to undervalue and contemn the sufferings of the laboring' classes, with hcartlessness and contempt, would have been so inhuman and monstrous, that my known character, my recorded writings and speeches abundant, and the service of forty years of life devoted, at home and abroad, to those struggling to rise in life, should have saved me from the unjust imputation." r. Belcher then proceeded with his sermon, saying that the men sought for liberty, and wli^n they gainjd it knew not how to retain it. He believed in tne liberty of th»» whole mass ot society, and it was a subject that should interest ervery man. Are the workingmen oppressed? Yes, undoubtedly, both by Governments and rich men, and also b} the educated classes. Because they want to oppress the n? No. It is because it must be so. Only in the household is it possible not to oppress helplessness and ignorance. The administration of affairs throughout the world is such that it can't be helped. The destruction of the ooor is their poverty. Trie destruction of the ignorant is their ignorance. Mr. Beecher referred 10 the working classes in Europe, saying that they ore lacking in personal devclopement, self-government, lacking in power. They are small in waist and smaller in the head. Since i860 the national debts in Europe have been increased $10, 000,000,000 through wars. That amount of money has been invested in war, and the interest of which must be paid for by labor. This bt might not exist had the workingmen had it hatred for war as all workingmen should have. We sympathise with workingmen everywhere.

We are on the side of the workingmen in Europe, who are much outraged, and who are great sufferings But the methods proposed for their release are unwise, unjust, impossible. I abhor the theories which have be°n dfevised for their rescue. These theories hurt them. The workingmen of Europe and their followd^are not fit to teach the workingmen of Am-rica. We have much to learn from Europe about music and so forth, but we have much to teach them about human rights. The importation of European emissaries to this country is an abomination. ApplauseJ

Mr. Beecher saia he laughed at the no tion that the Government should take care of the people. It is the duty ot the Government to protect the people, while they take care of themselvex, That the Government should see that the workingmen have bread is an absol uely foreign idea to the theorists of Europe. "glands off! You can never readjust the thought ol God!-' No equalization can ever take place until men are equal. It is a wild vision, the European notion of combinations among wo/kingmen. L'he libera ot the individual is destro\ed by such combinations The line should be drawn between the skilled and unskilled workingmen. Tne attempt to regiment labor is preposter as.

Mr. Beecher next spoke of the general condemnation of capitalists by workingmen, and said capital is the product of labor: l'he capitalists are orkingmen, or men who represent work. He protested against what he styled "the German dreams of Government," and saia that the American* do not propose to go to the schools of impracticable perman theorists. He considered communism a dead ly poison tor the workingmen. We give citizenship to foreigners, but not to thejr theories. We will sink their philosophies in the sea. God gave men the right of liberty and it is the business of the Government lo that liberty is not taken from them. Every man is in himself a whole commonwealth, but you must not oae your rights to destroy the rights of anybody else. When men say that the Government must tnke the railroads, telegraph Jines, and other business industries, they mean that the Government should be turned

into a gigantic corporation, and theproS?* dusts be divided among the people. Th»* is the communistic view, given not long ago in our sister city, which is more blessed than us with such theorists* Only a theorist insane by nature and thrown by meditation into delirium tremens could invent such theories. There is no rich class before the law, no workingmen's class before the law. He who classes men, and who seeks to antagonize, is an enemy of hi» country and of his hind.

Mr. Beecher dwelt on brotherhood® and trades unions, and said that their demands on employers were unr American and unjust. It is an American doctrine that every man must stand upon, his aim level. It is said that the world owes every man a living. That is so when man earns it. Again, that the world should take care ot all men. Man was born to take care of himself, but sometimes he is cared for bv his mother, and afterward by his wife. Man should be valued according to his achievements. I£ he achieved as much as a fly he is entitled to an equal reward for what he did. If he is an eaglet he has a right to the whole air. No roan has aright to go high by artificial merits it must be through merit. Men may go into a rebellion, and learn that two pounds weiyh more than one. The law ol nature is on the side of two pound*. A man who drinks beer and grumbles and works one-tenth of the day, says that he is as good as the next man. That depends upon who is the next man. [Laughter.] The test of all combinations is how much liberty they secure for the individual. I was born with a hatred of wrong and oppression. Do you suppose that, after my pleading for tne slaves oi this country, and tor the yeomanry bf Europe, that I could stand by and listen to a band of tyran's who want a good time, whether they earn it or not? Men should be ranked by their productive power. Mind is superior to matter soiil is superior to body.

The clergyman commented on the wide difference between skilled and unskilled workmen, the man of brains and the mac of muscle. A man, he 6aid, speaks or the amount of work accomplished but why not speak of the quality. Another talks ol the cost of production. To make a box that might be anything like a bos, should 1 undertake the work and finish it, would cost me about $150. ^Laughter.} In the time taken in the construction Ot the box I might make $150 lecturing. A carpenter would do the work in much less time, probably. What is wanted the development of a larger manhood. He derided what he called "bellowsblowing" to work ngmen, by those who want to woik eight hours and get pay for fifteen.

The preacher next called the attention of the workingmen to the New England fathers, who were the brains of frhe continent, and who worked almost unceasingly ior their very existence and the welfare of the whole country. He asked whetker the American workingmen intends to turn from the teaching of those men to the teachings of imported phila* ophers. He said it would be the glory ot his life if he might *ee the majority of the workingmen happy in houses of their own. in speaking or the adveesity that overtakes many, he said thJIt when a mac has hard times he should not grumble or complain. He ought to be manly enough

10

be manly when he is poor, as

well as when he is rich. When he comes down to a single dollar a uay, must htr throw up his hands in despair? Is that the manly course for a man? If vou are being rcdticed, go down boldly to poverty. Bankruptcy never hurts a man until it takes his mftnhood. Workingman woA. more and grumble less.

Mr. Beecher said that he did not say a dollar a day was enough for a workingman, but it would give a man bread. Man ought to be superior to his circuit*stances. He should not suffer the outside world to shake him. He should stand, not crawl. Don't sneak, but bear adversity as well as prosperity. In referring to the railroad strikers he paid ft. 'ribute to their worth, and added, when they go wrong we should rebuke them.

At the close of the sermon, which lasted an hour and a half, Mr. Beecher gave out the hymn "My Country 'tis of Thee." The vast congregation sang it with at enthusiasm which was almost startling. When Mr. Beecher had pronounced the benediction he was surrounded by 1 rienda who wished him a pleasant time, for he starts on his vacativn to-day, to retnm in October.

Voltaire died at Paris, in the housd of the Marquis de Villette, on the Qy&i which now bears his name. In conform mity with a clause in the will ot the Mar-7 quis. the windows of the chamber have never been opened since. They are to remain closed until the l.undreth anniversary of his d.ath, which falls in little less than a year. The injunctions of the will have b«en faithfully observed even during the RcvolutiOT. ,•{**• :-\-r

HOW THEY DO IT.

-Knew you e'er," said crafty Phillip, 'That when maidens kissed would be, Then with accents soft they sweetly

Lisp their words in accents free?"^

Back the an iwer came, a golden Mint- of wealth in every word: "Yeth,' Uic damsel gently urn* mured, "Yeth, dear Phillip, tho I've heard?*

l'he Chicago newspapers comment severely on the iurse ot the Republic Life Insurance Company, which recently t.,iied in that cuy. In order to insphfe public confidence, an emiucutiy religious man was offered the presidency. He ,was wealthy, a lay prt.acher, an organizer ot Sunday school- and highly respected.

He accepted the position, and hia price, as was sh wn by a receiver's report, was $50,000 in cash, and $750,000 in stock, with twenty per cent credited as paid. He was not an expert in the insurance bnsiness, and his sole qualification was the reputation for solidity that his name would give to the concern. Of course he sold his stock before the crash and cleared a fortune, while the policy-hold* ers lose everything.

Some of the American preachers in attendance at the Pan- Presbyterian Council have astonished the canny Scots not a little. A'ter Dr. Hodge's sermon in St. Andrew's, a venerable elder vat asked what he thought of it. "I thought I had him twice," replied the old man, "but he gaed ower my head with a fluff like a bat."

Jas. Hunter is very deaf. Ask him about it when you see him. He keeps a little memorandum book of the days that he is so afflicted and the interesting events that happened in cr sequenee„