Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 13, 1900, Image 1
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ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKYILLE. S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13, 1900. NO. 47.
" : ?? - j
A DREAM AND IT!
33"ST REV. OBAS
Author of''In His Steps, What Won
Philip Str
CHAPTER IX.
H Mr. Hardy looked at his son sternly,
standing at the little distance off he
had recoiled after that first recognition
of the boy. It would be difficult
to describe his emotions. He bad never
been an affectionate father to his
boys. He had generally given them
money when they asked for it and bad
not questioned them about its use.
He was not familiar with his older
son's habits and only within the last
few days bad he known that he was
what the age popularly designates as
"fast" He had never made a companion
of his son. He had not grown
up with him, so that now as he faced
him under the strange circumstances
that had brought them together he was
actually at a loss to know what to do
or say.
The thought that his son was guilty
ty\Icrlif mif hfm ho.
U1 a U1U1C W U1CU Uli^UV puv UlUi wv
hind prisoD bars did not yet occur to
his mind. Fie was only conscious of a
great longing to get back home and
there have a thorough talk with his
boy In the hope of winning him to better
things. But he must say something
to George.
The police officer stared In wonder
after the first startled cry of "Father!"
on the part of the young man, but he
did not loosen his hold on him. He
took an ertrn twist In the coat collar
of his captive and looked sharply at
Mr. Hardy as much as to say, "He may
be your son. but he's my victim, and I
mean to keep a good clutch on him."
George was the first to speak:
"Father, you know I wouldn't do
such a thing really. We were only out
for a little fun. We didn't know you.
of course. We didn't mean any real
harm. We were only Tooling."
"It was dangerous fooling," replied
bis father.
He still stood apart from the boy and
spoke quietly, but his face was pale,
and his heart was wrung with torture
for his firstborn.
Ah. how careless of him he had been!
How little companionship the two had
had! How very little help the boy had
received from the man!
Now. believing that only four more
v days lay before him to use to the glory
"Stop!" cried Robert Hardy. "This is
my son!"
of God, Robert Hardy felt the sting of
that bitterest of all bitter feelings, useless
regret, the regret that does not carry
with it any hope of redeeming a selfish
past.
After his father bad spoken George
sullenly remained silent. Mr. Hardy
bowed his head and seemed thinking.
The officer, who had been waiting for
another move on the part of the older
man. said:
"Well we must be moving on. It's
warmer in the lockup than out here.
So come along, young fellow, and do
your talking tomorrow morning with
the rest or toe arunas ana uisoruerlies."
"Stop!" cried Robert Hardy. "This
Is my son! Do you understand? What
are you going to do?"
"Well, governor, that's a pretty question
at this time of day. Do! I'm going
to Jug him for assault with intent
to commit highway robbery. It's un
affair for the peu,' I can tell you."
"But you beard him say it was all a
Joke."
"A pretty Joke to try to hold a man
up on the highway and demand his
money! Oh, no! That's carrying a
Joke too far. I'm bound to obey orders.
We've been after this gang of
young chaps for a month now."
/vffinAi* rnn /Inn't it n/lorofo nH'
X>Ul? UlllLCl , J VU uvu b uuv*v4?.bt*Mvi.
This Is my son!"
, "Well, whnt of that? Don't we jug
sons every day for some deviltry or
other? Do you suppose you are the
only father whose son Is going to the
devil?"
"O God. no!" cried Mr. Hardy, with
sudden passion. "But this Is my older
boy. It would kill his mother to have
him arrested and put In jail for trying
to rob his own father. Yet he was
once Innocent? What am I saying?
He might be now If I had done my
duty."
Mr. Hardy confronted the officer
with a certain sorrowful dlcnlty which
V
3 CONSEQUENCES.
>. AX. SHBliOON.
ild Jesns Do?" "The Crucifixion of
ong," Etc.
even that hardened defender of the
law understood.
"Officer, let the boy go. I will answer
for It If any blame falls on you for It
Be was not at rault in tnis matter. He
was not the one who assaulted me. He
did not touch me. You could not get a
particle of testimony against blm. And,
besides that It is necessary that he return
with me. This Is a case for the
law of God. This belongs to a higher
court"
The officer hesitated; Mr. Hardy stepped
nearer his son.
"George," he said as if forgetting for
a moment tnat tne omcer was preseut,
"did you know that Clara and Bess
and Will were In the accident last
night?"
George turned pale and tremblingly
replied: "No, father. Were they hurt?
Was Bess"?
The boy seemed moved as his father
bad not yet seen him.
"No: they were not?that Is, Bess
was not hurt at all. But Will was severely
bruised, and Clara still lies In
a state of stupor or unconsciousness,
and we do not know what the end will
be. I was on my way just now to. get
some needed articles from the doctor's
bouse. You must come back with me.
The law has no hold on you."
"Maybe the law hasn't any hold on
him, but Michael Flnnerty has. 1 don't
just like-the idea, mister man, of letting
the bovgo yet," replied the stubborn
and uhusually dutiful officer.
Mr. Hardy began to appeal to the
man's love of his own children. It did
not seem to move him in the least until
he mentioned the fact that it was
cruelty to keep the suffering girl at
home waiting for her father's return.
Flnnerty finally loosened his bold on
George and said slowly and painfully:
"And If I lose me job I'll be knowing
who was to blame for it. I always
told .V'chael Flnnerty that he was too
soft hearted to go on the force!"
"You won't suffer, officer. Many
thanks! Come, George."
A 1 father and son moved off together,
while the defender of the law
stood Irresolute, watching them disappear
through the storm and muttering
to himself: "I'm a soft hearted fooL
I ought to 'a' been born a female hospital
nurse, I had."
During that walk home, after Mr.
Hardy had gone around by the doctor's
with George, not a word was exchanged.
The storm was increasing.
The two walked along in silence, but
f wo1L?a/1 I v? f a +Ka Hall o +
n iicu vjcui^c n aincu iuiv iuc uuu ui
home he turned and saw a look on his
father's face that smote him to the
heart, for he was not yet a hardened
soul.
Mr. Hardy bad lived yeara In that
experience. No one could tell how his
heart had been tortured by what he
had endured that night, but the mark
of It was stamped physically on his
face, and he knew that he would bear
It to his grave.
Mrs. Hardy came running down
stairs as the two came in, and as
George turned and faced her she held
out her arms, crying:
"My boy! My boy! We have been
so anxious about you!"
What, not one word of reproach, of
rebuke, of question as to what he had
been doing all this time that the family
had been suffering! No; not one word.
Ah, mother love! it is the most wonderful
thing on earth, next to the love
of God for the sinner. It is even that,
for it is the love of God expressing itself
through the mother, who is the
temple of the loving God.
George dashed away a tear and then,
going up to his mother, laid his cheek
against hers, and she folded her arms
about him and cried a little and asked
no questions, and after a moment's silence
he stammered out a few words
of sorrow at having caused her pain,
and she Joyfully accepted his broken
explanation of how he had not known
of the accident to Clara and the others.
It was true he had gone out the evening
before, fully intending to go down
to the scene of the accident; but, coming
across some of his old companions,
he had gone off with them and spent
the night in a disgraceful carouse and
throughout the day had been under the
Influence of-liquor more or less, dimly
conscious that a great disaster had
happened down the road, but not
sober enough to realize Its details or
Its possible connection with those of
his own home.
The sudden meeting with his father
had startled him out of the drowsy intoxication
he had fallen into as the
day progressed. Now, as he felt his
mother's arms around him and realized
a little what the family had been called
upon to endure, he felt the shame
and disgrace of his own conduct.
Mr. Hardy went up stairs and consulted
with the doctor, who wondered
at his protracted absence. There was
no change In Clara yet. She lay in a
condition which could not be called a
trance nor a sleep. She did not seem
to be in any great pain, but she wa9
unconscious of all outside conditions.
After a little talk with his mother
George came up and Inquired after
T~?Tt*l 11 T1\a*t n'ann KntVi olnnn.
DCS5 (IliU %Y ill* i. iiuj n vie i?utu oiwj/lng,
and after the doctor had gone out
the father and mother and sou sat
down together In the room where Clara
lay.
Mr. Hardy did not say a word to
George aDout the Incident or toe evening.
The shame of It was too great
yet. When men of Mr. Hardy's self
contained, repressed, proud nature are
pained, It Is with an Intense Inward
Are of passion that cannot bear to
break out Into words.
George had sense enough to ofTer to
relieve his parents of the burden of
watching during the night, and during
the exchange of watchers along toward
morning, as Mrs. Hardy slipped Into
the room to relieve the boy, she found
blm kneeling down at a couch with
his face burled in the cushions. She
raised her face in thanksgiving to God
and went softly out.
The morning dawned gray with snow
which still whirled In wreaths about
the sorrowing homes of Barton, but
Robert Hardy thought of the merciful
covering It would make for the ghastly
piles of ruin down under the bridge
and along the banks of the river.
He said to himself: "This is my_
fourth day. How can I best spend It?
What shall I do?" He kneeled and
prayed and rose somewhat refreshed.
The forenoon went rapidly by, and
before he knew It noon was near. The
time had passed In watching Clara,
visiting with Bess and Will and doing
some necessary work for the company
in his little office down stairs. He did
not feel like saying anything to George
yet.
James Caxton had been In, and the
first thing he had mentioned had been
his own act In the meeting the nigh*
Jfrs. Hardy found him kneeling down ot
a couch.
before. Mr. Hardy thanked God for
It, and a prayer went out of his heart
for his own son, that the Spirit might
touch him in his sin and bring him Into
the light of Christ
A little after noon the storm cleared
up, and Robert prepared to go down to
the shops. Clara had not yet come out
of her stupor. The doctor bad called
and done what he could. There was
nothing In particular that Mr. Hardy
could do In the case, so he went out
about 1 o'clock and entered his office
at the shop, hoping as be went in that
he would have no trouble with the
men.
Mr. Burns reported everything quiet,
and the manager, with a sigh of relief,
proceeded with the routine duties of
the business. Nothing of any special
Interest occurred through the afternoon.
The storm had ceased entirely,
"" l c,T? ho/1 nnmo nnt nlfiSF nnH
warm. People were clearing off the
walks, and the ringing of sleigh bells
was distinct In the office, even over the
Incessant hum of the big engine.
Toward 3 o'clock one of Mr. Hardy's
old friends, an officer of the road, came
In and said there was a general movement
on foot through Barton to hold &
monster mass meeting in the town hall
for the benefit of the sufferers, both In
the railroad accident and in the explosion
of the Sunday before in the shops.
It was true the company would settle
for damages, but In many cases
through Barton the adjustment of
claims would not be made until much
suffering and hardship had been endured.
There was a common feeling on the
part of the townspeople that a meeting
for public conference would result
In much good, and there was also, as
has been the case in other large horrors,
a craving to relieve the strain of
feeling by public gathering and consultation.
"Can you come out to the meeting,
Hardy?" asked his friend.
Mr. Hardy thought a minute and re
piled, "Yes; I think I can." Already
an idea had taken shape In his mind
which be could not help feeling was
inspired by Qod.
"Might be a good thing If you could
come prepared to make some remarks.
1 find there Is a disposition on the part
of the public to charge the roall with
carelessness and mismanagement."
"I'll say a word or two," replied Mr.
Hardy, and after a brief talk on business
matters his friend went out.
Robert Immediately sat down to his
desk, and for an hour, Interrupted only
by an occasional Item of business
brought to him by his secretary, he Jotted
down copious notes. The thought
which had come to him when his
friend suggested the meeting was this:
He would go and utter a message that
burned within him, a message which
the events of the past few days made
Imperative should be uttered. He went
home absorbed In the great Idea. He
had once In his younger days been fa
mous for his skill In debate. He bad
no fear of his power to deliver a message
of life at the present crisis In his
own. He at once spoke of the meeting
to bis wife.
"Mary, what do you say? I know every
minute Is precious. I owe to you
and these dear ones at home a very
sacred duty, but no less, it seems to
me, Is my duty to the society where I
have lived all these years, doing literally
nothing for Its uplift toward God,
who gave us all life and power. I feel
as If he would put a message into my
mouth that would prove a blessing to
this community. It seems to me this
special opportunity is providential."
"Robert," replied his wife, smiling at
him through happy tears, "it Is the will
of God. Do your"duty as He makes It
clear to you."
It had been an agitating week to the
wife. She anticipated Its close with a
feeling akin to terror. What would
the end be? She was compelled to say
to herself that her husband was not
Insane, but the thought that he was
really to be called out of the world In
some mysterious manner at the end of
the rapidly approaching Sunday had
several times come over her with a
power that threatened her own reason.
Nevertheless the week so far, In
spite of Its terror and agltatiou, had a
sweet joy for her. Her husband had
come back to her, the lover as be once
had been, only with the added tenderness
of all the years of their companionship.
She thanked the Father for
It, and when the hour came for Robert
to go down to the meeting she
blessed him and prayed heaven to
make his words to the people like the
words of God.
"Father, what do you want me to
do? Shall I stay here?" asked George,
who had not stirred out of the house
all day. He had watched by Clara
faithfully. She was still In that mysterious
condition of unconsciousness
which made her case so puzzling to the
doctor.
Mr. Hardy hesitated a moment, then
said: "No, George. I would like to
have you go with me. Alice can do all
that is necessary. But let us all pray
together now before we go out The
Lord is leading us mysteriously, but
we shall some time know the reason
why."
So in the room where Clara lay they
all kneeled down except Will, who lay
upon a lounge near his unconscious
sister. Mr. Hardy as he clasped his
wife's hand in his own poured out his
soul in this petition:
"Dear Lord, we know thou dost love
us, even though we cannot always
know why thou dost allow suffering
and trouble, and we would thank thee
for the things that cannot be destroyed,
for the loves that cannot suffer
death, for the wonderful promises of
the life to come. Only we have been
so careless of the things that belong to
thy kingdom. We have been so selfish
and forgetful of the great needs and
sufferings and sins of earth. Pardon
us, gracious Redeemer. Pardon me,
for I am the chief offender. Yea, Lord,
even as the robber on the cross was
welcomed into paradise, welcome thou
me. But we pray for our dear ones.
May they recover. Make this beloved
one who now lies unknowing among
us to come back Into the universe of
sense and sound, to know us and smile
upon us again.
"We say, 'Thy will be done.' Grand
wisdom, for thou knowest best Only
our hearts will cry out for help, and
thou kuowest our hearts better than
auy one else. Bless me this night as I
stand before the people. This Is no
selfish prayer, dear Lord. 1 desire only
thy glory; I pray only for thy kingdom.
But thou hast appointed my days to
live. Thou bast sent me the message,
and I cannot help feeling the solemn
burden and Joy of It
"I will say to the people that thou
art most Important of all In this habitation
of the flesh. And now bless ns
all. Give ub new hearts. Make us to
feel the true meaning of existence
here. Reveal to us thy splendor. Forgive
all the past and make Impossible
In the children, the mistakes of the parent.
Deliver us from evil, and thine
shall be the kingdom forever. Amen."
When Mr. Hardy and George reached
the town hall, they found a large
crowd gathering. They had some difficulty
In gaining entruuce. Mr. Hardy
at once passed up to the platform,
where the chairman of the meeting
greeted him and said he would expect
him to make some remarks during the
evening.
Robert sat down at one end of the
platform and watched the hall fill with
people, nearly all well ?known to him.
There was an unusually large crowd
of boys and young men, besides a large
gathering of his own men from the
shops, together with a great number of
citizens and business men, a representative
audience for the place,
brought together under the influence
of the disaster and feeling somewhat
cue UreUKlUg aowu OI uruuuiui suumi
distinctions in the presence of the grim
I leveler Death, who had come so near to
them the last few days.
There were the usual opening exercises
common to such public gatherings.
Several well known business
men and two or three of the ministers,
Including Mr. Jones, made appropriate
addresses. The attention of the great
audience was not labored for, the occasion
itself being enough to throw
over the people the spell of subdued
quiet
When the chairman announced that
"Mr. Robert Hardy, our well known
railroad manager, will now address
us," there was a movement of coriosly
and some surprise, and many a man
leaned forward and wondered in his
heart what the wealthy railroad man
would have to say on such an occasion.
He had never appeared as a speaker
In public, and he passed generally in
+Y\r% oa! r? oaIAqK Kn iterVif tt 1
JOltriUlI 1UK IliC oviuou, uuubui;
man he had always been.
to be continued.
God Bless the Women!?A fashion
hook says that belts, gloves and
neckties of rattlesnake skin is now
fashionable. We felt convinced that
the rattlesnake would have to come to
it sooner or later. It is about the only
varmint left that the women didn't
wear. Think of a woman being arrayed
in a silkworm dress, ostrich
feather hat, sealskin sacque, goatskin
shoes, whalebone stays, kidskin gloves,
toitoise shell comb, fish scale trimmings,
stuffed canary bird ornaments,
clam shell buttons, Spitz dog muff',
mink tail collarette, alligator hide
purse, and a rattlesnake belt and necktie.
Solomon in all his glory was not
such a menagerie as one of these, and
yet we love tbem no matter what they
wear. God bless the women !
\
Progress op a century.
Some of the Marvels We Have Wrought In
a Hundred Years. ^
By Permission of the Ladies' Home Journal.
There were but 5,300,000 people in
America when this century opened.
France had five times as many people ;
Germany, and even Austria, had four
limes America's population ; Italy had
three times as many, and so had
Great Britain. Even Spain had double
our number of people, and little Portugal
was almost our rival in numbers.
We have more people now than any
European nation except Russia, which
alone leads us. We have as manv
people as live in all Great Britain and
France combined. We have one-half
more people than Germany. We have,
practically, 75,000,000 people in the
United States, and 10,000,000 more in
our new possessions.
There were only five large cities in
America in 1800. Philadelphia, with
66,000, was the largest, the seat of
government, and the centre of wealth
and culture. New York was next,
with 60,000. Baltimore was third,
with 26,500; Boston fourth, with 25,000
; and Charleston, South Carolina,
fifth with 19,000 people.
Chicago was unheard of in 1800. The
century was three years old before the
the government even built a fort where
Chicago now stands, and it was not
until thirty years later that a city was
thought of and incorporated.
There was no western city. The
mighty, modern cities of St. Paul,
Minneapolis, Omaha, Denver and Kansas
City were unheard of. There was
a small trading-post at St. Louis.
That was all. The Pacific coast had
two or three missions under Spanish
control. All the rest of the west
was given over to Indians and wild
beasts.
In what are Illinois, Indiana, Michigan
and Wisconsin now there lived
6,000 people in 1800, spread over that
whole territory. The "Far West" was
then Kentucky, Ohio and Western
New York. Beyond the Allegbanies
was practically a wilderness. Now
53,000,000 people live within the area
that belonged to our nation in 1800.
The United States is larger now than
_ii in 2 ? ???? T?
an Jtiurope iu puiui; ui men, j.i>
has 8,600,000 square miles?one-fourteenth
of the land surface of the entire
globe. In 1800 we had just 825,000
square miles.
We are the richest nation on the
globe. To-day our wealth is estimated
atjover $100,000,000,000 ; in 1800 it was
$2,000,000,000. A man worth $300,000
was then considered abnormally
rich ; to day we have several hundred
men who are worth $3,000,000 or more.
Uncle Sam spends each year, on bis
government, $550,000,000, not including
the extra outlay occasioned by our
late war and the new accession of
territory. Iu 1800 he spent $12,500,000.
In four years he now spends more than
the entire wealth of the nation in 1800.
It is amazing how people lived in
1800, judged froip modern standpoints.
Half of them dwelt in log huts. Window
glass was a luxury even in the
coast towns. Some people used oilpaper;
others had simple openings in
the walls, which in winter were closed
with plank split from logs. The iron
stove was a positive luxury ; the furnace
was unheard of. Great fireplaces
supplied heat, but could not keep these
huts comfortable in winter.
There was no kerosene nor gas.
Both were unheard of. The tallow
dip was the standard light, and on the
frontiers even tallow was scarce.
There the torch of the forest was used.
Lamps then were in the homes of the
very rich, fed with whale or vegetable
oils; but they were few, and the flame
hardly brighter than the candles. For
fifty years into the century these lights
were used, for it was not until 1858
that petroleum was discovered, and,
even in 1861, kerosene was very expensive,
costing sixty cents a gallon.
There was no such thing as a match.
The flint and steel of the old family
musket was the means of kindling a
fire ; or a live coal was brought from a
neighbor's, sometimes many miles
distant. When the friction match
came, in 1827, people were atraia or it
and would not have it in the bouse.
To-day we in America alone use over
125,000,000,000 matches each year.
The cooking-stove was unknown.
The cooking was done in the fireplace
in pots and kettles standing on long,
slender legs well above the coals.
The old brick oven was fired once a
week to almost blazing beat and filled
with appetizing dishes.
Table linen was made by the housewife,
and it was beautiful. China and
silverware were lacking. Pewter
spoons and steel knives and forks were
choice heirlooms and highly prized.
Hand-made wooden trenchers, platters,
bowls aDd noggins comprised
most of the tableware in use a hundred
years ago. On the frontiers
meals were often eaten off chips freshly
cut from the forest trees.
Garments were spun by hand, every
member of the family doing a part.
There were a few cotton-spinning mills
in operation, but the spinning jenny,
the carding machine and the loom with
flying shuttle were almost unknown in
America. The century was 13 years
old before the first power loom was set
up?at Waltham, Mass.
A woman could spin from dawn to
dark from 40 to 60 knots of yarn.
Now, with modern machinery, one
operative can spin 150,000 knots in the
same time.
Carpets were a luxury in 1800.
There were a few woolen carpets in
Philadelphia and New York ; a few
ingrains, and here and there an im*|
ported Turkish rug. But these were
used for state occasious. * The rag carpet
was the glory- of the housewife.
A few Axminster carpets were made
in Philadelphia; but the century was
well begun before ingrains appeared.
Up to 1850 there was not a power
loom for carpet-making in America.
Not a cast-iron plow existed in 1800.
f
The farmer used the sickle, the scythe
and the flail. His plow was homei
made?of wood covered with a thin
sheet of iroD. Seeds were scattered by
haud; the hoe was the cultivator.
Grain was gathered by band, threshed
on the floor during the winter, and
crushed beneath a stone pestle into
flour, or ground in the neighboring
flour mill. The mower, the reaper
and the self-binder were unheard of.
To go to New York from Philadelphia
meant two days by the swiftest
stage ; today it is done in two hours.
To go from New England to Oregon it
took Doctor Atkins eight months, even
in 1847. Today one can gp from New
York to San Francisco in one hundred
and two hours.
There was not a mile of railroad in
1800. The first line built was the Baltimore
and Ohio, in 1830. It was
fourteen miles long. Three years later,
when the South Carolina Railway line
of 136 miles was finished, it was the
longest railroad in the world. Today
in the United States alone there are
185,000 miles of railroad, or more than
a third of the mileage Of the entire
world. In 1883 there were but 16 passenger
locomotives in the United
States; today there are 10,000.
No steam boat existed in the world
a hundred years ago. Sailing vessels
crossed the Atlantic ocean and took
from two to three months for the voyage.
Bullet-proof packet-boats, propelled
by sails, horses and poles, attended
to most of the commerce between
river towns. Passage from
New Orleaus to Louisville cost $125.
It was not until 1807 that Robert Fulton
built his "Clermont," and the first
steam propelled boat in the world
steamed up the Hudson river.
The street car was unknown in 1800.
The century was a third over before
the first horse car appeared?in New
York city. The trolley car came only
twelve years ago. Now we have 19,.
000 miles of trolley roads in America,
running 60,000 cars.
The newspaper bad hardly started.
There were about one hundred and
fifty publications of all kinds in the
United States. About one-tenth of
them were newspapers, and were issued
daily. Not one of them sold
more than a thousand cppies a day.
Today we have 22,000 different periodicals
of all kinds.
There were 903 post-offices in 1800.
Today we have 75,000?that is, in
America alone. It took a letter sixteen
days to go from Philadelphia to
Lexington, Kentucky; twenty-two
days to Nashville, Tennessee. The
cheapest letter postage was eight cents,
and to send a letter more than a hundred
miles cost a shilling. Three million
letters and papers were then sent
in a year. At the present time the
post-office handles about 30,000,000
pieces of mail in a single day.
The telegraph was unheard of. Not
until 1844 did Morse send bis first
1 t uri l.4*i. fi
telegram, w oeu tue uaitie ui ?? mei *
loo was fought, in 1815, unusual measures
of baste were adopted to get the
news to Loodou, where it was received
three days later. The guns of Dewey's
fleet were hardly quiet before the result
of the battle was known, in New
York. To-day we have 1,000,000
miles of telegraph wire in America,
and 70,000,000 messages are sent over
them each year. There are 150,000
miles of cable on ocean beds, but none
of this was laid until the century was
sixty-six years old.
This is how the people lived in 1800.
Every community was isolated from
every other community. New York
was farther removed from Philadelphia
than Africa is now. It was New
Year's Day before Boston knew what
had happened in New York on Christmas
Day. There were practically no
conveniences; people of those early
days knew nothing whatever of comforts.
And yet by the people of those
days was laid the basis of the country
which we enjoy to-day?a hundred
years later.
An interesting thought:. What will
nennln nf a hundred vears hence
"MW rw"r? * ?
tbiDk of how we lived in 1900.
WORLD COMBAT PENDING.
Significance of Events Now Going on In
China.
James Creelman in New York Journal.
It is no secret that the six great
powers of Europe have beet) steadily
preparing themselves for the breaking
up of the Chinese empire. Japan and
the United States have also made
ready for the collapse of the Manchu
dynasty.
The whole world will feel the shock
of the colossal events which are impending
in Asia, and the spray of missionary
blood which has set fleets and
troops in motion toward Tien-Tsin, is
but the first signal of a struggle that
will probably involve'every important
nation.
This assembling of war ships in the
Gulf of Pe cbi-li is not an accident.
It is a part of a plan matured long ago.
It is the first step toward the partition
of China and her four hundred million
inhabitants among the great powers.
Every important statesman in Europe
has predicted that the political
roof of Asia would crash in this year
or next year, and that the first outbreak
against Christian missionaries
would set the processes of dissolution
in motion.
The thing that is about to happen
will change the map of the world. It
may overturn more than one kingdom.
During my stay in China last year I
learned enough to know that civilized
Europe bad officially decreed the death
of the empire. And when I reached
Europe I found that the American
ambassadors in the great capitals had
been instructed by Secretary Hay to
secure from the governments to which
they were accredited definite pledges
that, in the event of the breaking up
of China, the "open door" policy would
hold in all new territory acquired by
them. It was well understood that
this agreement between the powers of
the world, secured through the efforts
of the United States, was made necessary
by unmistakable evidence that
China was powerless to resist the allengulfing
movements of Russia.
The fall of Poland gave the czar a
window looking out on Europe. Then
began the Russian movement toward
Constantinople. The Black Sea was
to be the base of a great Russian
fleet. This movement was checked
by England, and the triple alliance,
formed under the presidency of the
German emperor, has ever since re-"
sisted the efforts of Pan-Slavism to
force a military outlet to the Mediterranean.
Russia turned her face from impregnable
Europe to the far east.
Her engineers planned the Siberian
railway, a steam highway six thousand
miles long. This was to give Russia
the outlet in the Pacific that had been
denied to her in Europe.
Then came the China-Japanese war.
Japan drove the Chinese army out of
Corea, and an army corps, under Field
Marshal Yamagata, occupied the hermit
peninsular. Japan crossed the
Yellow Sea and invaded Manchuria.
Twenty-three thousand Japanese soldiers,
under Field Marshal Oyama, conquered
an empire of four hundred millions.
It is true that the Japanese did not
go beyond Port Arthur, Wei-Hai-Wei
and Tien-Chwang, but there is no doubt
VtAt Airamo^a /tAmnanf lifrtlx* InuoHinrr
luav v/jauia a wuipovu *ui?o iu *?*uiug
force could have marched from one
end of the Chinese empire to thq other
without meeting effective opposition.
I accompanied the field marshal and
saw everywhere complete and unmistakable
evidence of the military impotency
of China.
The treaty of Shimonoseki gave a
province of Manchuria, including the
powerfully fortified harbors of Port
Arthur and Talien-Wan, to Japan.
Russia, backed by France and Germany,
forced Japan to waive these
territorial rights on the Chinese mainland.
Then Russia moved swiftly. By
supporting the Emperor of Corea
against the rough domination of the
Japanese, the czar's influence became
supreme in Corea, which adjoins Manchuria,
and will furnish a seaport termination
for the Siberian railway?a
naval base, 'free from ice in winter
weather. Russia guaranteed, and
partly furnished, the money for the
heavy war indemnity exacted by
Japan, and thus acquired a hold on
China. Presently the world was astonished
by the news that China had
ceded, or leased for ninety-nine years
?virtually a sale?Talien-Wan and
Port Arthur, with its great dry dock
for battleships.
The meaning of the Siberian railway
dawned on the mind of Europe. *
Russian diplomacy was tireless, re
aistless. China yielded to Kussia tne
right to build a railway from the
main Siberian line down through Manchuria
to Port Arthur. And then Russia
poured thousands of her soldiers?
under the thin pretence that they were
railway police?into Manchuria.
Today Manchuria is in effect a Russian
province. Inside of a year or 18
months the great Siberian railway,
which runs across the top of Asia, ?.
with spurs touching Persia, Northern
India and China, will be completed.
China is hopeless. Her Tsung-liYamen
is filled with doddering old
Mandarins intent upon blackmail and
careless of the public interests. There
is no national sentiment, practically no
army or navy, and no scheme of defense,
external or internal. It is the
past passively resisting the present and
ftitupo Th? vnnnc flmnfiror is either
,MVU*VI ? ?^ J ~?D r ?
dead or a prisoner, and the ruthless
empress wields whatever power she
can.
All is confusion, corruption and decay
in China. Strong European statesmen
have attempted to save her by
means of internal reforms; but they
have had to give up the impossible
task. The Chinese reformer, Kung
Yu Wei?a really enlightened and
broad minded statesman?for a few
days got control of the Chinese throne,
when the young emperor assumed
power. He began to apply modern
principles to Chinese problems in the
hope of averting the doom of his country.
Too late! The empress seized
the throne. Kung Yu Wei fled for
bis life, and all his friends were butchered.
The peace treaty between China
* * - ? ? ? ? ? - ? ? mi mm rvrtnta
ana japan opeueu uiauj vuiucoo t<uiw.
As foreigners pressed into the interior
the Chinese grew more and more hostile.
Missionary blood was shed. The
German emperor seized Eiao Chau and
Great Britain took Wei-Hai-Wei, close
to the Bussian bases at Port Arthur
and Talien-Wan.
The direct route to Pekin and TienTsin
lies through the Gulf of Pe-ChiLi,
past the Taku forts and up the Peho
river. Bussia holds one side of this
gulf; Great Britain and Germany the
other side. All are ready to strike.
Japan has never forgiven Bussia for
taking away from her the Manchurian
territory, ceded by China. The Japanese
government has almost bankrupted
itself in the effort to build a
n#w stronc enoueh to resist Bussia.
Japan has her revenge in sight.
The United States has interests in the
Philippines and an eye for conquest or
acquisition?whichever word may be
more acceptable?in the threatened
empire.
And so tho forces of death, greed,
international jealousy and sleepless
ambition are gathering at the gateway
of China. This may be only the
preliminary movement. It may be
succeeded by months of diplomatic
wrangling and intrigue. But one
thing is certain. The pressure on
China will grow greater every day,
the riots and disorders will increase,
the desire for territory and trade will
set the imagination of all nations on
fire, and then, this year perhaps, the
oldest empire in the world will tumble
down and every great nation will have
a Chinese colony. ^Either that, or
Russia will seize Asi^.
\