Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1889-06-13


"a cry of anguish has rung across the
land" Thus Rev. T. Dewitt Talmage spoke
to five thousand people at night, in his ser
mon upon the disaster at Johnstown, Penn.
Inc text from the 93d Psalm was this: '.The
floods, o Lord, have lifted up their voice."
"The rivers of America" Dr. Talmage,
said, 'are her pride and her wealth. The
glory of New York is its Hudson. Pennsyl-
vania has her Susquehanna, her Al
leghany, her Mononghela, and least,
yet mightiest in the history of the worlds
desolation, her Conemaugh. Yes. in
these latter days the foods have lifted up
their voice. In 1877, 100000 souls were
drowned at the mouth of the Ganges. Oceans
wrath is uncurbed. Where is the Vile de
Havre? Where is the President? Where is
the Atlantic? Where is the City of Boston?
Last Thursday night the dam broke above
the city of Johnstown and away went
homesteads, factories, churches and
asylums of mercy. Ten thousand perished.
Buildings were piled in debris fifty feet high,
and of them were made holocaust.
Woel Woe! Woe! In that place the
voices of peace, industry, friendship, good
neighborhood have given way to the voices
Of despair, agony and desolation. The
floods have lifted up their voice. What does
it tell us of? The mercilessness of natural
forces, the emptiness of natural religion.
There are those who tell us they want only the
religion of sunshine, art blue sky and beau
tiful grass. The book of nature must be
their book. Let me ask such persons what
they make out of the floods in Pennsylvania!
Those pitiless waters whelmed father,
mother, son and daughter, with as lit.
tie feeling as though they had been
muslrats. They sundered families as pitt
lessly as they would the planks of raft
And over all that scene Of misery Imake bold
to say there was not one tear save those OF
human anguish. People tell us the rain is the
tears of nature, the wind in the branches her
sigh Of sympathy. But that is poetry. The
stroy, but never save, The wind in cyclone
fury sweeps to death whole cities, but it never
sighs Natural forces cut, bruise, burn, de
stroy, but never pity.
Natural religion is not enough for me. II
the people in the valley of the Conemaugh
had prayed to the clouds to save their chill
dren, what would have been the answer!
Only the flash of falling water, the roaring
J Of the floods, the crash of falling timbers
I know but one religion which says: If
take away life Pn give better
one; pll make an explanation, if not il
this world, in the one to Gomez It is not al
emeritus religion. The faith that inspired ths
martyrs, burned with molten lead, torn apar
by horses-that is the faith which, i undertak,
| to say, is tonight sustaining hundreds oi
Misrepresentation souls in the valley Of the
| Conemaueh.
| "Our advantage may in the end prove to
be a disaster. The prosperities of men be-
come their overthrow. The greater the run
of prosperity the better, but there are men
in this land graping in their selfshness and
pride. They pray heaven and earth and hell
'Givei Giver They gulp down such credi-
tors as cannot pay; they swallow
the result of market fluctuations Of
corners in wheat, OF mortgages which poor
men cannot meet They swallow, swallow,
till they become rivers OF damnation rolling
through the land. You red-mouthed rivers
Of Pennsylvania, 60 back into your channels
You rivers of greed, cease your impetuou.
| onrushing.
"Calanities, lam persuaded, do not NEAR
always Gods displeasure. have been in the
| valley Of the Conemaugh. know the peo
| pie Of Johnstown. There is none kindlier
none more hospitable, more Christian. Mer
try to hurl the Judgments of God. don't
believe in that kindo argument. This Bible