" ISSUED SEHI-WBBKL^ l. m. geist's sons, Pnbu?herB. I % ^amilg JJeirspger: 4or promotion of tht falitical, ftotial, Agricultural, and fammeyial gntytsts of |topIe. ESTABLISHED 1855. YQRKYILLE, S. O., SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1903. ISTO. 7. THERE! * < By Rev. Char Author of "In His Steps," "R< Copyright, 1901, by Charles M. Sheldon SYNOPSIS OP PRECEDING CHAPTERS. John Gordon, heir to riches, refuses a position in his father's bank and leaves home, father and sister to work for the people of the slums. Sordid money getting and a life of frivolity are revolting to him. Gordon's society sweetheart, Luella Marsh, refuses to share his life at Hope House, "an oasis of refuge and strength" among tenements, saloons and vaudiville halls. They part. uoraon goes iu hujjc House and meets its head, Miss Grace Andrews. He decides to join the slum settlement. His friend, David Barton, a successful "yellow" journalist with a bad cough, asks him to conduct a reform page in the Daily News, edited by one Harris. Gordon considers the offer. The offer tempts Gordon, but he scores "yellow" journalism. Editor Harris overhears the conversation, but gives no sign when he joins Gordon and Barton. Harris offers Gordon $500 a month to edit a slum reform page. Barton's cough grows worse. Gordon refuses Harris' offer because he thinks Harris wants the page for sensational, not reform, purposes. Gordon finds that his father and Luella's own the worst tenements in the slums. Gordon asks his father to destroy his illegal, insanitary tenements, but is repulsed. Luella's father, who owns the worst dumb-bell tenement, visits it in company with Gordon. They also visit a disreputable vaudiville house near by. The indecency shocks Mr. Marsh. He promises to do something about the dumbbell tenement. Barton's cough is worse. Mrs. Captain George Effingham calls and Gordon learns inm rmnuu uao uccn nuumt, consumptives to -Colorado at his own expense. Miss Andrews tells Gordon that Tommy Randall, a political boss, blocks all tenement house reform. Gordon meets Randall at the bedside of Louie Caylor, a victim of the barbarous tenement system. Gordon and Randall oppose each other concerning the funeral arrangements, and Gordon defeats the boss. Gordon arranges a decent funeral. The dumbell tenement, owned by Luella's father, catches fire. There is a terrible holocaust. Among the victims is Mrs. Caylor, Louie's mother. Hope House is saved by desperate efforts. Barton, Gordon and Miss Andrews do heroic work at the fire and Barton collapses. Tommy Randall, responsible for the deathtrap tenements, poses as the slum's friend. Gordon calls to see Marsh, who has left town, meets Luella and intimates that her father is responsible for the death of over sixty children in his illegal tenement. Luella's love is still warm, but Gordon does not note the fact, and they part coldly. Barton dies, a victim of "yellow" journalism. Mrs. Effingham offers to give money toward the slum reform work. Mr. Marsh, conscience stricken because of the fire, gives the dumbbell tenement lot for park purposes. CHAPTER VIII?Continued. When Gordon reached Hope House, he found waiting for him a note from Archie Penrose's aunt, Mrs. Constance Penrose. Mr. Penrose was a society young man who had no visible means of support aside from the money his father, recently aeceaseu, nau leu nixu. .axcuie Penrose had never made a cent of money by a stroke of labor of any kind, but that was nothing against him in the eyes of fond mothers with marriageable daughters. There were thousands of women in the city who would have counted themselves or their daughters as specially favored If Archie Penrose had come into the house as a suitor. It made no difference that his reputation had suffered in various ways. He had money, he was of a distinguished family, his manners were regarded as elegant, and he had an aunt who gave the most select receptions and entertainments in the city. In the sight of any man or woman of right definitions of manhood this young figurehead of an aristocratic family was simply one of the ciphers of civilization. He made nothing that added to humanity's comfort or knowledge. He contributed absolutely not one grain of helpfulness or comfort or hope to a suffering, struggling, needy world. He lived to get all the pleasure he could himself, much if not all of it gained with a total disregard for any one else's pleasure, and yet he moved through what is called the best society, courted, admired, fawned on, eagerly Invited out to an endless round of social functions which a certain class of rich people in America make the most important business of their lives. Mrs. Constance Penrose was a person of more value than her distinguished nephew. She was rich, but not given over altogether to society and its shallow enthusiasms. There were other tilings in which sue was genuinely interested, and among them was the career of John Gordon. She had known him as a boy, had watched him through his college course and his trip abroad, and, being a woman of very decided and Individual opinions, she had more than once expressed her interest in the experiment Gordon was making. More than once she had compared him to her nephew, to that young man's great disadvantage. The note which Gordon found at Hope House was an invitation to an evening at the Penrose mansion in Fark avenue. "Why have you cut yourself off from all of your former friends? Do you owe nothing to us rich sinners, as well as to the poor ones? Come and reform the boulevard if you are really in the reform business, for we need it as much as the slum. Why are there no social settlements among us? It strikes me that people like your Miss Andrews are living at the wrong end of the problem. If we could only be saved, we have the means and ability to save the other end; but I want you to come and see me and tell me about Miss Andrews. Have you fallen in love with her? And how about Luella? Young man, come and give an account of yourself. Luella will be here, and Mary and the Lowells and the Cranstons and that graceless nephew of mine, who. by the way. now that you are out of the way, is paying court to Luella. You have neglected us all shamefully. We will for former: les M. Sheldon. >bert Hardy's Seven Days," Etc. give you If you appear among us again. It will not be a large company?about twenty-five. Surely you have not cut us an UUL ui juui acquaiiuaiivc IUICVCI. 11 you don't care for the rest, come to satisfy my curiosity about your future. You know I was one of your best friends when you were a boy in the university. I have a real interest in your future, and I am not all frivolous or grlven up to the whirl of ibe world, as I hope you know. Hoping to see you, I am your friend and well wisher, CONSTANCE PENROSE. Gordon thoughtfully considered the invitation and finally accepted It. When the evening named by Mrs. Penrose came, he went up on the boulevard. There was nothing particularly unusual in the situation, and yet in some unexplained manner as he entered the Penrose mansiou he was conscious of a strange excitement, us if before the evening was over events would occur that would make serious history for more than one of the guests. Mrs. Penrose met him with a genuine friendliness. "Ah. welcome, Mr. Reformer! I ap preciate your coming out of your social dungeon to see us. You cannot always be living on heroics. There must be some comedy to relieve the tragedy, eh?" "Some kinds of tragedy cannot be relieved by any kind of comedy," Gordon replied grimly. "But I'll promise not to talk shop unless I am drawn into it. You didn't ask me to come for that. Hiil rnn V9 "Didn't I? You are the lion of the occasion. Everybody is talking about you." "Let us change the subject then." "And talk of Miss Andrews?" "No." Gordon said coldly. "No? Is that forbidden ground?" She spoke seriously. "I am actually Interested in her and in all you are doing. Snme time you must tell me. Will you ?" . "Yes." he answered earnestly, a little ashamed of his curtness. "Of course I believe in It all, only I didn't wish to seem to lug it In on this occa sion." "I understand." Mrs. Penrose answered brightly, and as Gordon passed ou she introduced him to Professor Emory of the university. Gordon had heard of Professor Emory and had read two of his books. The man was a scholar-and had read everytning in ms own une vu 6>w-?uu/*;,y. Without meaning to do so Gordon soon found himself deep in a discussion with the professor over one phase of the social question, which one of the professor's books had touched on?"The Personal Element of Responsibility For Relief of Unjust Social Conditions." Gordon disagreed totally with the professor's conclusions and frankly told him so. The professor blandly smiled and laid down another proposition to which Gordon found himself totally opposed. The professor again smiled in such an exasperating manner that Gordon almost lost his temper. He pulled up just In time, however. tie was SO ueur 11 iuui ue uaiveu a yucotion that otherwise he would not have asked. "What you say is good theory, professor. but have you ever lived among the people and studied them at first hand to see If your theory will work?" The professor changed color and lost his bland and condescending manner. "No. sir; I do not consider that a necessity to the proper discussion of the facts. I understand perfectly well what you mean. Nearly all social settlement residents make the same mistake. They think personal contact is necessary to a clear comprehension of situations. I do not so regard It. Not that I deprecate the service you are rendering," he added hastily, "but you exaggerate the Importance of your contribution to the solution of the problem." Gordon was spared the temptation of a reply by a voice near by and a hand laid on his shoulder. "John, must I Introduce myself? Why have you ueglected us all so shamefully?" It was his sister Mary who had Just come in. Gordon was really dellgnted to see lier. The swift and eventful current of events that flowed around IIopo House had carried him along so tumultuously that he had let the old relations with his home drift, and yet, In spite of all that had to be counted into a swift receding past, he could not deny the strength of the blood relationship. He turned from the professor with a feeling of relief and began to chat with his sister. She was the same careless, thoughtless. superficial creature she had always been, and yet she bad an affection for her brother that John Gordon felt was very real. It touched him, even while he was wounded by many things she carelessly uttered about his own choice of life. "Father is not very well," she said in reply to a question. "He fell one day last week and had to be carried home from the office. I feel worried over him sometimes. I wish you were at home again." "Do you miss me?" "Do I? You know I do, John. Aren't you coming back ever?" "I don't know. The old life seems unreal to me." "Does this seem unreal?" She tapped his arm with her fan and then described a little circle with it that included the rooms and their brilliant contents. "It seems very real to me," she added with a light laugh. John Gordon let his loot go over the Interior of that princely residence. All the soft, eaBy, luxurious appliances of modern civilization within the reach of lavish wealth were evident on every side. Velvet carpets, golden decorations, the most costly pieces of art, wood carving from Bavaria, exquisite medallions, portraits by Sandalio, and paintings the price of any one of which would have been more than the life earnings of a hundred families in the tenements?before he was aware he was putting flesh and blood values up against all that physical luxury. Then he suddenly looked Into Mary's face and said, with a smile: "The things are real enough; It Is the life that Is unreal." "Don't be tragic, John," she pouted. "Have some fun tonight. You don't look as if you had been having much lately. Tell me, is It true that you and Luelia have quarreled? Tell me all about it She is coming tonight. Will it be embarrassing to you?" And then before he could answer she rattled on carelessly: "And Miss Andrews?the papers say she is a remarkable person. Tell me, is she handsome, like Luelia? Are you impressed? But how do you live in those horrors? I should think the sights and smells would be simply? Oh, Miss Cranstou, you have met my brother John?" Miss Cranston had met Mr. Gordon while he was a student in the university. John stood chatting with her awhile, and was still talking with her when dinner was announced. He took her out, In obedience to a nod from Mrs. Penrose, and when once at table he looked, quietly enough outwardly, but with Inward tumult at the guests, and noted Luelia seated by young Penrose at the farther end, but facing Gordon, while Penrose was almost wholly obscured by Gordon's right hand neighbor. The dinner proceeded as usual with such dinners, only the gifted art of being all things to all guests that Mrs. Penrose possessed in such a large degree saving the occasion from the insufferable dullness of many similar pnthprincH. A seven course dinner In a rich woman's house may and often does afford as much real misery to the assembled company as can well be packed Into a bad hour and a half. With Mrs. Penrose as hostess affairs went on with more brilliancy. It is one thing to talk yourself, and another to get other people to talk. The latter gift, allied to a species of social genius, Mrs. Penrose possessed, and the dinner was progressing finely, seasoned with just that right degree of conversational Interest which at times included every one at the table and then broke up into little groups of talk between two or four. John Gordon talked with Miss Cranston on a variety of topics, but did not introduce anv mention of his own work. Mrs. Penrose, who sat at his right, once or twice alluded to Gordon's residence at Hope House, but he answered briefly and at once reverted to something else. Evidently he did not intend to be drawn into any discussion or description of his work. Mrs. Penrose was too shrewd as well as too courteous to Insist in asking questions she plainly Baw were not agreeable. "Very well, she said good naturedly. "As the lion of the occasion, if you will not roar in the presence of this audience will you favor me some time with what I am dying to know? It is not idle curiosity," she added in a lower tone. "I really am interested in your plans. I want to help." Gordon looked up at her quickly. The thought of what this woman, with her wealth and social influence, might do if she would to bring life and light into the dead, dark places of the city kindled bis Imagination. It was another rav of hoDe to Dlace alongside Mrs. Effingham's letters. "Thank you," he said gratefully. "I will come and talk it over with you." As he finished and turned his face again toward Miss Cranston he encountered Luella's glance. She instantly looked down. Once again, toward the close of the dinner, Gordon intercepted her look as it swept past all the guests and stayed Just a moment with him. Just how it all happened John Gordon never knew. The last course had been served. There was the inevitable settling back of people who had successfully observed one of the rites of polite society and were ready to enjoy the programme of the evening in another stereotyped direction. The voice of Archie Penrose rose over the well modulated conversation: "It's n dangerous move for any one to make, I think, professor. The classes are too much at war now. All these anarchists ought to be hunted jut of society like wild beasts. She Is encouraging anarchy when she en courages those people to discuss uieir i views." "Miss Andrews"?the bland voice of i Professor Emory smote John Gordon like a blow?"is not encouraging anarchy. Mr. Penrose. You do not understand the exact situation. The men she Invites into Hope House to discuss government may be mistaken as to many theories of government, but the free speech that Miss Andrews encourages among them is not dangerous to society. As I understand it, she discourages all expressions of violence and Is really doing good service to the city in educating a group of men who might be dangerous into good citizens." "Bless you, professor!" John Gordon said to himself. "You are a formal, pedantic, heartless, professional sociologist, with no more real knowledge of the humanity you are writing about than a mummy, but I'll forgive all that for what you have just said. You may be of no real account as a sociologist, but you are fair to your own logic, fair as a mathematical problem." The voice of Archie Penrose rose again. Argument had no weight with him. "But I say this is a dangerous woman. She makes the people discontent ed with their surroundings and creates bitterness between classes." "I don't agree with you." the professor's smooth, easy voice answered again. "She is doing great good in her way. Mr. Gordon"?the professor was sitting three chairs below Gordon on the opposite side of the table?"you are surely in a position to verify my statements about this estimable woman. Set this misguided young m^n right in the matter. He has been misinformed by some one." *f!v?srv fane at the table was turned toward John Gordon except Luella's. She looked down at the table. It was very still. Penrose was red and nervous. Just how he had precipitated the discussion Gordon did not know until several weeksafterward. It was enough that the entire subject of his personal life work was now at once the object of Interest to all these people. It was the last situation in the world he would have chosen for himself, but it had been thrust upon blm through no seeking of his own. In the hush that waited his answer to the professor Gordon saw a blue eyed woman digging with bleeding hands at a ruin out of which ghastly faces peered, and It was the vision of a whole life that for fifteen years had flung Itself down into the tragedy of humanity to save It regardless of suffering to Itself. "Miss Andrews," he said quietly, but his soul was shaken with the passion of his long repressed feelings, "Is to my mind the most gifted, most useful, most Christian woman In this whole city. She is today suffering more, giving more and doing more to right the wrongs of our boasted civilization than any other woman of my acquaintance. The man who says she Is dangerous to society does not know what he Is saying. Miss Andrews is the superior of every person here at this table In all the gifts and graces of the highest developed womanhood." He need not have said that last sen. i -11 T??4. tence. It WUU UUl Hi ail ucvcbdui;. uui bis spirit was at higb tension. The contrast between the selfish, heartless, luxurious, even vicious social life represented by some of the persons at that table in addition to Archie Penrose and the patient, loving sacrificing life of the head of Hope House voiced his indignant assertion. Luella did not look up. She sat as cold and still as a statue. Mrs. Penrose, with a tact that did her great credit, broke the silence by asking just the right question. Just what it was Gordon himself did not remember when he went all over the scene afterward; but whatever it was, it led the way naturally to a description of Hope House settlement and John Gordon found himself doing what he bad declared Penrose he would not do?he was soon pouring out the story of Bowen street and Tommy Randall and Mrs. Caylor and Louie and all the heartbreaking conditions of the pale dwellers in the tenements. Had ever man such an audience? It is not often the reformer can reach the men and women of society. He talks to the crowd, vaguely conscious all the time that the rich, cultured, leisure classes either do not care or do not know or do not understand and never go to hear him. But for over half an hour Gordon said his say. He spared not one Syllable of horrors. The guests paled at his description of the fire and shuddered at the picture of the child's arm thrust up out of the ruins and circling Barton's neck in a convulsive death agony. Luella looked up once. Her eyes glowed with a feeling that John Gordon interpreted into deep compassion, and his heart bounded. For a moment he lost control of himself. Then he went on steadily. When he was through, Mrs. Penrose quietly signaled for the company to rise. In the other rooms, as the guests seated themselves at card tables for the rest of the evening, different ones took up the topLc and a certain unusual hush pervaded the perfumed atmosphere that was a stranger to the gossiping company. Mrs. Penrose passed out by Gordon. - * ? * ?# "You maae a aeen uupresmuu, guc said half admiringly, half seriously. "I had no Idea you could talk so well." "I did not intend"? "Of course not. All the better. Archie got his answer. So did we." She laughed a little cynically. "It will do us good. Did I not tell you we need reforming?worse than the slums?" To Gordon's great relief Mary came up and said she felt uneasy for her father, and begged Mrs. Penrose to excuse her. "You will go home with me, John, won't you? I came with the Cranstons. Father needs me. He did not look well when he came home this evening." "It must be serious if Mary is ready to leave this early," he thought. But he was glad to escape the formality of the rest of the evening. As he went out with his sister he had a view of Luella seated listlessly at the table where young Penrose was. On the way home Mary seemed uneasy. She was suffering also from a headache and sharply accused her brother of lugging his reform business Into the company's talk. John Gordon wasj3ilent. Afterward he learned that young Penrose's attention to Luella was the real source of Mary's bad feelings. As they mounted the familiar steps he felt strangely oppressed, as if some new or unexpected trouble was about to come Into his life. The excitement incident to his defense of Miss Andrpws had eiven way to a dull depres sion that weighed him down and gave him a foreboding. One of the servants was in the hall. He said that Mr. Gordon had gone into the library early in the evening and had given orders not to be disturbed. John and Mary went into the reception room. The library was next. They entered it side by side. What was that form lying haif on the floor, half on one of the leather cushioned chairs? Gordon sprang forward as Mary cried out They lifted bim and laid him on the couch. A frightened servant appeared at the door. But John Gordon knew as he looked into the stern old face that the soul of Rufus Gordon had gone to God, who gave it to give account of the deeds done in the body, whether thev were rood or whether they were bad. TO BE CONTINUED. Pfewttajwww ?>eadrag. NARCISO GENER GONZALES. Comprehensive Life Story of the Slain Editor. Narciso Gener Gonzales, editor of the State, was born on August 5, 1858, at Edingsville, on Edlsto Island, South Carolina. He was the second son of Ambrosio Jose Gonzales, a native of Matanzas, Cuba, who with Narciso Lopez, began the struggle for Cuban Independence in 1848, being one of the Junta of five members who declared the independence of the island, adopted the present Cuban flag and organized the first filibustering expedition under Lopez, of which he was second In command, with the rank of brigadier gen- 1 eral; and was the first Cuban wounded in battle for the Independence of the island, at Cardenas, May 20, 1850; ex- J lied and under sentence of death, In 1856 he married Harriett Rutledge, 1 youngest daughter of the Hon. Wil- ( Horn Elliott, of Beaufort, S. C., and ^ served in the Confederate army as col- , onel and chief of artillery for the de- . partment of South Carolina, Georgia , and Florida under Beauregard, Har- ' dee, Pemberton and others, surrender- J ing at Greensboro, N. C., in charge of , the artillery or Johnston s army in , 1865. N. G. Gonzales was taught at home until 15 years of age and then attend- ' ed a private school in Virginia for one ( year. He received no other education. Subsequently he worked as a laborer 1 on a farm in Virginia and at the family homestead in Colleton county, S. C. ^ In 1875 he studied telegraphy and from the summer of that year until the sum- i mer of 1876 was employed as tele- ( graph operator at Varnvllle, Hampton 1 county, S. C. In 1876 he organized the . first Democratic club on the line of ! the Port Royal railroad and was cam- ^ paign correspondent for the Charles- . ton Journal of Commerce, the straight- j out organ of that time. In the fall of ^ 1877 he obtained a position as night operator for the Atlantic and Gulf railroad (now the Plant system) at Savannah Ga., whence a year later he was i transferred to the post of operator and j railroad clerk at Valdosta, Ga. He . left this place in June, 1880, on invita tion of A. B. Williams, who had just then assumed charge of the Greenville News, to serve as local reporter for that paper. On August 5, 1880, he began his service with the Charleston News and Courier as Its regular correspondent at Columbia, and continued In that position until October, 1881, when he was sent to Washington to act as its special correspondent in the exciting year following the death of President Garfield. He reported the Guiteau trial and execution and the lost session of the Forty-seventh congress for the News and Courier. In August, 1882, was transferred to Charleston and placed on the editorial staff of the News and Courier, with the understanding that he was ulti- ] mately to become editor of that paper; but after a few months, owing to a disagreement with Captain Dawson, 1 was again sent to Columbia, where, in 1883, he organized the News and ^ Courier bureau and continued in charge of its news and business department until the political revolution of 1890, 1 reporting beside all the state cam- j paigns and many famous trials in different parts of South Carolina. His antagonism to the incoming administration indisposing him to have such j relations with it as the policy of the { News and Courier required, he resigned his position on that paper te take effect on the close of the administration of ' Gov. Richardson. His purpose now j was to .leave tne state ana see*. a , newspaper opening in the Hawaiian islands, to which he was attracted, but being urged to remain and become edi- 1 tor of a daily newspaper in Columbia , representing the views of the opponents of Tillman, he agreed to do so, 1 and with his brother, Ambrose E. Gon zales, secured the capital necessary to i start the State, of which paper he was j elected editor and manager. He purchased the plant and organized the ' office and the publication of the State ] began February 18, 1891. His manage- ( ment lasted for two years, but his con- , trol of the editorial policy of the paper has continued throughout its exist- 1 ence. Mr. Gonzales has held no public ; office. ) His interest in the cause of Cuban independence moved him soon after the beginning of the revolution of 1895 to i offer his services to the insurgents in , the field: but they were declined on the ground that he could be of greater service to the cause in his editorial posi- 1 tion. Before the breaking out of the I war with Spain he sought the means i of taking part in it on Cuban soil, but being disappointed in other plans for 1 getting to the front he went to Tampa 1 a few days after war was declared and , was there appointed first lieutenant on , the staff of Gen. Emilio Nunez, of the Cuban army, then preparing an expe- ! dltion for the relief of Gen, Maximo Gomez in central Cuba. This expedi- ( tion could not get transportation until June 20, when it sailed from Tampa 1 in two steamers, the Florida and Fanita, with a convoy, the Peoria. It took i two weeks to make a landing. After , being repulsed at two points by the Spaniards, the expedition disembarked 1 July 3, at Palo Alto, on the south coast I of Cuba, a few miles west of the cen- . tral trocha; and the next day Gen. Gomez was found and relieved. After six weeks of extreme hardships and ' privations campaigning along the . trocha, ir which he participated in one , fight, an attack on the fortified town ' of Moron at the northern end of the ' trocha, Mr. Gonzales, learning on Au- i gust 17, that the war was over, pro- , cured his discharge and embarked for home in an expeditionary schooner, ' which, after various adventures, reach- i ed Key West, September 1, 1898. i Since that time he has been at his . post as editor of the State. On November 14, 1901, Mr. Gonzales 1 married Miss Lucie Barron, of Man- ] ning, in Clarendon county, who sur- t vives him. ( His other immediately relatives are an aunt, Miss Ann Elliott; three brothers, Messrs. A. E. and W. E. Gonzales, j of Columbia, and Mr. A. B. Gonzales, | of Colleton county, and one sister, Miss Hattie R. Gonzales.?Columbia State, 1 Tuesday. ROBERT EDWARD LEE. r Maiterly Addreaa by Major Jamei F. j Hart, ot Yorkvllle. ^ The principal feature of the celebra- j tion of Gen. Robert E. Lee's birthday s under the auspices of the Charleston j: Chapter of. the United Daughters of a the Confederacy in Hibernian Hall, a Charleston, last Monday night*, was an r address by Major James F. ,Hart, of Yorkville. The News a;nd Courier of j, Tuesday contains a full account of the j ?n 4AlaA?i 1JI utccuiiigo, aim uic luuuwiue 10 lannu j. from that paper: t Major James F. Hart was introduced t to the audience by Judge Simonton, j, and he was given a most cordial re- j ception. His patriotic utterances were j frequently and heartily applauded and 0 his tribute to Lee evoked a demonstration of approval that continued for a v minute or more. 0 Major Hart said: Major Hart'n Addrena. p I thank you, Mr. President, and la- j, dies of the Charleston Chapter of Con- v federate Daughters, for permitting me f to bear a message to you from the past on this anniversary of the birth of t Robert E. Lee. c The cause to which he gave the best t years of his illustrious life is replete c with histories and sacrifices, and Is as t dear to us in memory today as it was h In hope and promise when borne on the a points of our bayonets a generation t gone by. g The smoke of battle had barely clear- t ed away from our great civil war when v T?no>Uah mlHfflrV hlfRT- J X U10lllI5U>i011CU UtigllOU UUUVUiJ M*w0 y rapher wrote: "The day will come 8 when the evil passion of the great civil f 3trife will sleep in oblivion and north g and south do Justice to each other's a motives and forget each other's wrongs. e Then history will speak with clear n voice of the deeds done on either side, n and the citizens of the whole Union do f justice to the memories of the dead and a will place above all others the name of a Seneral Robert E. Lee." 0 These hearty, prophetic words were ^ but the repetition of the history of his a own people, our ancestry. They had been the actors in many stormy con- ^ fiicts through the years that had led 0 jp to the middle of the seventeenth c ?entury. They had participated in the n battles between the Puritan and the 0 Roundhead on the one side, against Royalist and Cavalier on the other; a had seen the Cavalier overthrown and t] King Charles sent to his execution. v That same people twelve years later i had seen the Cavalier in the ascendant c and the bones of Cromwell, the execra- j, ted Roundhead leader, dug from their j resting place among Kings in "West- t: minister Abbey and hung in the admir- p Ing gaze of Englishmen. Decades went 0 by and Englishmen gave their loyalty e to the successor of the executed king, j, and their hatred to the Puritan. Then ^ came a time when truth outgrew prej- a iidice and untried opinions that had e been formulated into history were re- ^ cast, and all Englishmen were ready to a accord to Englishmen the honor of just olicy to the remedy by disunion. But 'I had no other guide," wrote he in 866, "nor had I any other object than he defence of those principles of American liberty upon which the contltution of the several states were orig naiiy iounaea, ana uniess iney ure itrlctly observed I fear there will be in end of republican form of governnent in this country. That the conditions on which the orlgnal thirteen states entered into the Jnlon in 1788 reserved their sovereign ight to withdraw from the compact, if he experiment proved inharmonious, here can be no doubt. This was the nterpretation of New England through oslah Qudncy and Henry Cabot and Mckerlng and the Hartford convention f 1814, as well as of distinguished stu[ents of our form of government elsewhere. We were not the sole judges of ur rightful cause. I do not distrust the verdict of imiartial history when its clear voice Is ieard as to the truth of that cause for which Lee and his comrades in arms ought. Truth, little by little, is breakog away from the prejudice that fetered it for four decades in our own ountry, and year after year speaks o growing audiences. It was only reently that the lamented president of he whole country proposed that the lonored dust of our beloved Confederte soldiers should be entombed in nalonal cemeteries under the care of the overnment And there is little doubt hat William McKinley's purpose tould have been adopted had the noble aughters of the south consented to urrender their loving trust to such ofIcial keeping. And more recently a ifted son of Massachusetts?descendnt of illustrious ancestry?in words loquent with fact and logic, bore a nessage across the continent to the orthwest, telling that secession was a undamental principle in the confedertion of states composing the Union, nd that Robert E. Lee should be honred with a monument beside that of Vashington and Lincoln at the Nation1 capital. It is not that one president of the Jnlted States or that a great number f eminent but hostile critics now conede that the Confederate soldier was ot a rebel, much less a traitor because f his loyalty to his state, which had he right to Judge; but these voices re echoed back through the press of he country, some discordantly, some rith toleration and many approvingly, 'he dawn of truth even in our own ountry is fast appearing, and when ilstorians as honest and fearless as tiomas Carlyle appear?he who printed he truth of Cromwell's cause to Engind?the cause that Lee made glorius and the southern soldier defendd with his life and fortune, will stand onored among all people of this counry as it Is honored today by the wise nd just of all nations. Then the highst badge of honorable descent will be o point to a record telling that your ncestry were soldiers that fought un er Lee and Hampton and Jackson, and y the side of Jenkins and Connor and ettigrew for constitutional liberty. Let us recur again to England under Iromwell. We are impressed by some triking analogies drawn from that eriod and contrasted with our own ivil war. Again was fought over on ur shores the battle between Roundead and Huguenot, Puritan and Cavller. Again Huguenot and Cavalier fere overthrown in the struggle, and re yet, after nearly forty years, slowv but energetically rebuilding their igher civilization, if but yet a small leasure of their political prestige. In that English conflict the ancestry f Robert E. Lee were Cavaliers who fent down in the overthrow of their overeign. And in the American conict the illustrious descendant of Richrd Lee, the Cavalier, saw the downall of the sovereign that commanded in niipHancp?his beloved Common r-ealth of Virginia. Like John Hampen, Cromwell's great lieutenant, Lee fas reviled, and his estate confiscated o the crown, and an indictment lodged gainst him for treason, and as a citien was outlawed. But the analogy between the two onflicts abruptly closes here. In the Jnglish struggle the end was consumlated and the constitutional monarchy estored. In the American conflict the verwhelming armies claiming to batle for the restoration of the Union preailed in arms; but failed to restore he Union of states that were overhrown. The existing governments arned the shameful tryanny. We are - - - * A _ Jf TTU claimed by conquest; a pari ol *ninla dismembered and erected into a ew state; the people of the remaining tates largely disfranchised; property Ights destroyed and the people of the tate placed under the dominion of heir former slaves, whose power to ob and oppress was maintained by the rmed forces of the government, until he people in their might overturned ne shameful tyranny. We are a forivlng people, and these crimes against ivilization may be forgiven, but will ever be forgotten. No historian of the eriod has yet had the courage to paint tlis sfVmeful picture of conquest and rime in truthful colors. Robert E. Lee, like John Hampden, resented to the world a life too pure nd a patriotism too lofty for distorted istory to misrepresent. Even amid / ne bitterest moments of the great consst, with the gateways of foreign injrcourse shut upon us, the truth-lov lg English speaking world did not lisunderstand him or the cause for hlch he fought. Prof. Phillip Worse7, of Oxford, which might well be ailed the cradle of Anglo-Saxon enghtenment, in dedicating his translalon of Homer's "Iliad" to Gen. Robert 1. Lee, wrote of him, "The most staln?ss of living commanders, and, except l fortune, the greatest." From the same source came that (Continued on Fourth Page.) / / /