The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-06-01
ROUND ABOUT GOTHAM.
MEN, MANNERS AND MOVEMENTS
AS rHEY COME IN VIEW.

Bachelor Blum.
(Copyright)
NEW YORK, May 3L-This man who is
hurrying along in the crowd on Park Row
Is going to name the next mayor OF New
York city. He is the new boss Of Tammany
Hall Mayor Grant viii be deposed as soon
as his term as mayor expires. Dick Croker
is said to be dying. His successor, the
actual leader Of the great army that Tam
many Hall controls, is this man who
attracts no attention to-day in the busy
throng. 1t is Thomas F. Gilroy, commits
sioner of public works at present.
In appearance he is q little above
the average height, but his
shoulders stoop and be seems TO have pre-
occupied air. His face is clearly shaver,
except for an iron gray mustsche. His
cheeks are pinky white. He has laughing
Irish blue eyes and sandy hair. bis hand
grasp is warm, and there is much Of per
sonal magnetism about him. He is a pro-
duct Of New York city, about so years Of
age, and comes Of Irish parentage. He has
been in Tammany Hall all his life. Like
most Irishmen. he began his political ca
reer in the ranks. He is student Of sociol-
ogy and state craft. He has Travelled much,
is an attentive reader. understands
how to manipulate men, plays poll
tics not at haphazard, but as an
exact science. And thus it comes
that he finds himself at the head Of the
greatest political organization in the world
Whatever he says is law. The man whom
he selects will be Tammany Halls candi-
date for mayor, and be elected too. for
Tammany Hall controls the city of New
York to-day. Gilroy is a good listener
Ia all Orra mn
speech. but be Is thinking all the time. His
friends say that he is warm-hearted and
generous, and above suspicion. His leap
from the ranks TO the leadership within a
few months, and the vast power that goes
with that leadership shows anew the won
derful changes made by the whirligig Of
politics. Gilroy will bear watching. He
has future.
Talmage rarely condescends to enter our
village of Gotham. When he does he comes
with his mouth shut Whether we are too
angelic to benefit by Brooklyn counsellings,
or too far gone to be worth redemption, we
can only surmise. Beecher Whose statue
was really cast in bronze this week, only
three years and three months after his de-
parture) used frequently to lift upon US the
light of his ever radiant countenance. Can
i Eever forget that last speech Of his at
Chickering hall three weeks before he died,
and the remark made to me by q lady as we
studied him after the meeting had closed,
HE looks as If he would die Of apoplexy
any day. Beecher was great personality
and Talmage is great talker. We want
more Of the former and less Of the latter
element here in New York. But Talmage
is tslker TO hear, and l went.
Never mind where, or what he talked
about A good place and object. of course
A striking uniqueness about that head of
his, with its elongated strands dragged over
from the right side to the wrong in hope
less effort to conceal honest badness. They
shake loose when steam is up and let the cat
out OF the bag. But we all have our
little weaknesses, with this difference:
His is on the outside of his pate;
ours are mostly inside. An orations
Well, scarcely. The Talmage sermon is
as much OF stump speech as his speeches
are OF the sermonic stamp, which is saying
a good deal. There was no CREASED light
ming in it this time. 1t rumbled and jerked
out with the mellihuousness of hay wagon
going along an unpayed country road. A
reverend doctor pointedly prayed that the
meeting might be ''enthusedn-that was the
word-but even Talmage failed to ''enthusen
us or himself. The fireworks were brilliant,
but not the preachment But there
was cause. Talmage was ad-
dressing the National temperance
Society at its 25th anniversary.
and he came grimly determined to tell them
that they bad gone wrong in exchanging
moral suasion for legislative efforts He
told them that they had let the old.fash-
Toned temperance meetings die of delirium
tremens through letting it get into the
hands Of drunken lecturers but they would
have to revive it if the cause is to succeed.
The candid friend should not be disap-
pointed If his eloquence is sometimes re-
ceived with thunderclaps of solemn silence.
One of the most Juvenile of veterans is
rare old Theodore Cuyler, perennial presi-
dent Of the national organization afore-
named. He has retired from regular pulpit
work that be may renew his eagle youth
with redoubled toll in general. Where are
the young men In our pulpits OF the Cuyler-
Talmage- Beecher stamp? Is the breed dying
outl Youthful curled darlings of the
cushioned pulpit we have with us ever, like
the poor, which, of course, includes poor
preachers as well as poor pocketbook
bearers. Is mustache-culture really and
truly an article of faith as well as practice
in the modern ministry. Isn't it rather
mean In full-blown divine so TO disguise
himself in lay fashion that the wayfaring
sinner is thrown on his guard In ordering
his conversation all wrong, when, if he
knew his man, he would sweat hard TO or
der it arightf A pulpit reply is In order.
When you honor this metropolis with
your presence you will want little fun of
some outlandish sort to reconcile you to its
deafening rattle and ragged paving stones.
Try this recipe. Take your stand at any
point where 500 people will pass you in
every hour. There are 500 such places. Now.
stop them, one by one, and in clear voice
and with steadfast eye, ask each of them
this question, and carefully note the results.
"Have you been to the BronxY Three
hundred of them will think YOU mean some
trading station of Stanley's in mid-Africa,
and will resent the practical joke severely.
The next hundred will blink their ewes
sheepishly for ten seconds and then reply,
why, no, but my grandmother used to tell
me it's just lovely.n Ninety-seven of the
remaining hundred will briskly answer.
swell, now, that's strange; I've been going
TO go there for years, and guess / will
really run over next week" The remaining
three, two being artists whose business com
pels them to seek out natures loveliest
hooks, and the third being born vaga-
bond, whose bliss is to roam far from the
madding crowd of tailor-made convention.
alities, viii tell you, "What, been to the
Bronx Why, how could fellow exist
If he hadn't its paradise to compensate for
New York,s pandemoniumP'
Only an 11-cent fare, or a two hours,
bracing tramp lands you in the exuuisitelv
lovely little valley of what the old Kniclker-
bockers used to call "the Brunks.m This ia
riOhrft1l roropuuoiatio, +o-do- =.