The Democratic pioneer. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1845-1853, 1849-06-29
sNel6Sr -.
JESUS AND THE POOR,
BY GEORGE LIpPARD.
(cOntinued.)

night, Surveying at once its luxury and
slarvatiop, its gilded crime and naked
wretcbednessi The voice Of the widow,
starving in her desolate home-the voice
Of the Orphan, crouching in the cold, /,
| clutching for bread--the voice Of Starvax
tion and Max edness and Disease, goes up,
even now; to God!
Do you not hear those voices; speak.
amensing, from Keuslngton, from the
heart of the City, from dark courts where
disease wrankles aud testers and kiIs?-
Do you no, hear those awful voices ask
ing not for wealth-not even for CONS
| fort-but, G. Cod of merc,! can this be
| true, in enlightened, Protestant Phila-
lphia!-asking for rag to cover their
nakedness; asking for bread9
Would you believe, my friends, that
even now while | write these words, IN
silence Of my room--yonder in a dark
| hut--yosder a mother and her three
| children lie down in misery too horrible
10 tell, 1prostrate with rambling disease.
Neglected, forgotten, there alone they
croncD al this hour, and no hand brings
the cup OF water, or the crust of bre ad TO
their lips.
Would yon believe the that there are
hund reds starving around you; starving
,o.nlght; breasting in sullen agony, The
| Fate which every winter brings to the
Poor of this Large City--would you be.
| lieve me that picture as horrible as the
one am about toprint upon your hearts
can have its origin in sober, serious,
matter Of fact Truth!
Lock yonder! Is it not magnificent
! festival that flashes along the wide hail,
with its pillars, it's draperies, its columns?
| All! il Is. a cay scane! Elegantly dressed
men and beautiful womsn swaying gently
along the bounding floor. while the music
OF full band bursts upon your ears. All!
II is . beautiful scene; and the world is
not SO bad after all Who talks of mis-,
| cry and rags in Philadeiphis, W hila these
rich W ines flow like water, these satins
glsten, and these jewels fash rom ant
| ing bosoms!
But holdi let me tell you a Romance
connected with this ball room; yes Ro,
nance Of a Shirt: and, mark ye, those
| who may laugh at the tide of this Ro.
nance may pray God TO forgive them for
it, ere ihave done,
Let me tell Oh, then, tha Romance of
a Shirt. Yes, that elegant shirt, cloth
ing the bosom Of yonder gay, goodshum
ored young man-his pleasant face grows
pleasanter with genial cbampa gne-ia
the Ball Room: let me tell you the Ro-
nance Of this Shirt. You smile. it is in.
deed a laughable tbiDg--to look upon
that Shlrt, and remember that every stich
has been drenched with a widows tears;
every thread along its carefully wrought
surface has been baptized with the signs
OF bresking heart that Candle. eld Ia
the Skeleton Hand OF Poverty, has light
eye'balls. as she listened to the means OF
a child for bread, and worked on at the
Shirt, sixteen weary hours: aud all for
Just enough 'io keep body and sout 10
ge.her?"
Come with me now through this spa
clous street, flashing with a thousand
Iigh,s, the Theatre glaring here, an the
knm Palace there: let us at once dive
into the recesses of yonder darkeped
court.
Into this old house, with rags and straw
stuffed in the window psnes-up the dark
stairs, that creak beneath our iread-iato
this louely room,
All! there Is not much of Romance in
this scene.
A lonely woman clad in faded attire,
sitting there by farIng light, working
away, with hot eyebalis and feverish
hands, al the very Shirt which you have
seen in yonder ball room.
Thus she has toiled for twelve long
buWf AcT orphan CHllO
rem are lying there, moaning in their
hungry sleep, there sits the Mother, W th.
out bread or FIRE. toiling on all day and
all night for this tremendous sum--a sin
gle Eieuen-penny biz Twelve and half
cents for ooe long winters day of hunger,
toll, and cold-laughable, is it noil
And that faring light glares 10 her
facs--shows the shrunken outIines-tbe
eies nDn stursiy large aud dark--the un
der lip quTering. as the peer Widow
tries 10 choke down the deep agony
mounting to her throat.
This faded woman once dwelt amid
scenes Of comfort--luxury. She never
dreamed thst the lot of the poor child OF
tell would be hers; never for moment