The Labor enquirer., 1883-09-22
bless the ak as it tfalls-the ak sharsened

."Such is the message Of the Declara-
ton of man to the kings of the world
And shall we falter now?. And shall We
start back appalled,, when our feet prest
the very threshold of Freedom ? Do You
see quailing faces around you when oul
wives have been butchered when the
hearthstones of our land are red with
the blood of little childrenf What
Are there shrinking hearts ot falterine
voices here, when the very dad Of oui
battle fields arise and call Upon US te
sign that parchment, or be accursed
"signli If the next moment the gibbett
rope is round your neck. Sign If the
next moment this hall rings with the
echo of the falling ak. Sign By all you
hopes in life or death, as husbands, faith,
ers-as men, sign your name tothe parch
ment, or be accursed foreveyI
"Sign, not only for yourselves but fol
all ages; for that parchment will be the
textbook of freedom the Bs5le aof the
rights of man forever.
"Sign, for the declaration will go forth
to American hearts forever, and speak tc
those hearts like the voice of God. And
its work will not be done until through,
out this wide continent not single inch
of ground owns the sway of privilege OIL
power.
"Nay, do not start and whisper with
surprise. 1t is truth; your own hearts
witness it; God proclaims it. This con,
tinent is the property of a free people
and their property alone. God, l say
proclaims it. Look at this strange his
tory of band of exiles and Outcasts
suddenly transformed into people
Look at this wonderful exodus of the
Old World into the New, where they
came weak in arms, but mighty in God
like faith. Nay, look at the history of
your Bunker Hill, your Lexington, where
a band of plain farmers mocked, and
trampled down the panoply of British
arms, and then tell me, if you can, that
God has not given America to the free.
'It IS not given to our poor human in
telect to climb the skies, to pierce the
counsels of the Almighty One. But me-
thinks l stand among the awful clouds
which veil the brightness Of Jehovah's s
throne. Methinks l see the Recording
Angel-pale as an angel is pale, weeping
as an angel can weep come trembling
up to the throne, and speaking his dread
message:
FEATHER! The Old World is baptized
in blood. Father 1t is drenched with
the blood of millions, butchered in war,
in persecution, in slow and grinding op-
preston. Father, look With one
glance of thine eternal eye, look over
Europe, Asia, Africa, and behold ever
more, a terrible sight-man trodden
down beneath the oppressor's feet, ma
tions lost in blood, murder and super
sttion walking hand in hand over the
graves of their victims, and not single
voice to whisper hope to man.
"He stands there (the angel, his hand
trembling with the black record of hu-
man guilt. But, hark' The voice of Je-
no, ah speaks out from the awful cloud ::
Let there be light again. Let there be
a New World. Tell my people, the poor
millions, to 60 out from
the Old World. Tell them to 60 out
from wrong, oppression and blood. Tell
them 10 60 out from the Old World, to
build up my altar in the New
CAS- God lives, my friends, | believe
that to be His voice. Yes, were my soul
trembling on the wing Of eternity, were
this hand freezing in death, were my
voice choking with the last struggle. |
would still, with the last wave of that
hand, with the last gasp of that voice,
implore you to remember the truth, God
has given America to be free, Yes, as l
sank down into the gloomy shadows of
the grave, with my last gasp, Iwould beg
YOU tc sign that parchment in the name
of the One who made the Saviour, who
redeemed you in the name of the mill
ions whose very breath is now hushed
in intense expectation, as they look up
to YOU for the awful words, you are
free"
Many years have gone since that hour
The speaker, his brethren, all, have
crumbled into dust, but the records Of
that hour still exist, and they tell us
that it would require an angels pen to
picture the magic of that speakers look,
the deep, terrible emphasis of his voice,
the prophet like beckoning of his hand,
the magnetic fame, shooting from his
ewes, that fired every heart throughout
the hall. He fell exhausted in his seat,
but the work was done. A wild murmur
thrills through the hall. Sign? Ha!
There is no doubt now, Look How
they rush forward. Stout-hearted John
Hancock has scarcely time to sign his
bold name, before the pen is grasped by
another, another and another. Look
how their names blaze on the parchment
Adams and Lee and Jefferson and Car,
roll, and now Roger Sherman, the shoe
maker. And here comes good old
Stephen Hopkins yes, trembling with
palsy, he totters forward, quivering from
head to foot. With his shaking hand ne
seizes the pen and scratches his patriot
name, Then comes Benjamin Franklin