Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-01-04

seed of reform where 1t might take root and
grow to perfection before it could be choked
and sapped of its young life by the deadly
| thistles, ayarice and selfshness. Why, l
| said to myself. shall these men who are SO
| eager to toll, be driven to this battling and
this bitterness among themselves? Surely
| government that compels this order OF
| things is a government to be despised.
And yet 1t was no worse than London,
Paris. st. Petersburg. Only In these more
| powerful cities the police were more numer-
GUS and vigilant, and hence the poor less
| violent and noisy. The cabmen, carriers Of
all Sorts were none the less bitter, destitute,
desperate in those Old World cities. They
were only more in subjection. they were all
starving, struggling, robbing, lying alike.
Ah, the misery. the misery, the miseryl
And yet, in all these places, as all know,
there is a strata of misery still below even
this; The weak, at home in the alleys, in
the cellars, anywhere that they may hide
away, the bent old man, the pallid mother,
the helpless, hungry little bones at million
breasts. All this shall be changed, said;
and strong and resolute with hope has
tened to the hotel, ran up to the desk and
demanded my letters.
Not line. But the mails for that morn
ing had not yet been distributed. waited.
Not word from her. I appealed to Hope.
And like banana tree that has been cut
down in the warm and watered sands, Hope
grew again from the same root, even before
the sun had set.
Another day went by-a week; month.
No Madonna for mel
Many battle in my heart had fought
all this dreary, weary time. Had I been
entirely selfish in this consuming desire to
see her glorious face again? No; it was a
solid comfort to me every hour now to reflect
that had, even as I walked from the sta
tion to my hotel, thought of the miserable
corgodaros who ran at my side and planned
for their amelioration.
And vet had to confess in these battles
and debates that were being fought out to
the end in my heart each day, that I alone
had not the courage or the capacity to 60 on
with the great work. knew we'll that 1
should faint and fall by the wayside, as 1
had confessed to her should, and only con-
tribute another failure to the discourage
ment of good men.
Another month-two-three-h year
and no Madonna. Indeed, found N.Y.
self calling her not by the name of Madonna
now, but simply Dolores. She would not
save the world-she would not save even
miserable me. For felt myself growing
hard, bitter. Yet single letter, single
line-even one little word would save me
from my baser self. She would not send me
even SO much as one word.
Strange that is did not occur to me that it
might be impossible for her to come, or even
so much as send the slightest message. Yet
I had been so accustomed to think of her as
SO omipotent in all things at all times that
it would have been entirely out of character
to associate her with the impossible. 1
would not surrender to the despair that was
in me; be beaten as I might in these daily
battles and debates.
l finally, with supreme effort, said: "Let
me make myself more worthy; let me inform
myself better concerning the mighty work
before us; let nv suffering make me not
weaker, but stronger for the work; may be
by the time had torn up selfshness by the
roots she will come"
And think my life began to widen out
and to grow better from the day of this reso-
luton. I gradually became student, an
observer. and soon I began to see that was
and unobserving but very selfish; not only
very selfish but very vain, and even silly. I
took myself more severely in hand as grew
stronger in the fight with myself; and not
only never lay down at night without going
over all had said and thought through the
day, but ever laid down lines and laws
for the day following. This made less con-
fusion and exhaustion of forces. When
had doubt about what to do, turned back
in my mind to the resolution formed the
night before in the tranquility of my entire
self and following out what had planned
was usually satisfied with whatever result.
I made journeys round about to the little
cities of misery; each one a hell. And each
one might easily have been q paradise.
God indeed had made each place an Eden;
man had made each place a purgatory.
Yet the misery was no whit more in this
mild and fruitful cline of flowers than in
like little remote towns and cities through
out Europe, ASIA and Africa. Indeed it is
safe to say that misery was much less consid-
erable here. 1t was only in this newer
world less adroitly hidden away; perhaps
more conspicuous also from contrast. l be-
gan to spend my days amid the ruins of
Tcohuican that reach for miles and miles
about the base of the vast pyramids reared
by the Aztecs 10 the sun and moon. This
place is some 20 miles from the City of
Mexico, beyond Tezenco, but as the trains
pass almost hourly through these ruins
was enabled to return each night; and to
spend the night at the Hotel Iturbide; wait
ing, waiting, waiting for her.
Great museums of antiquities are here in
Mexico. Idols enough TO build the walls of
a city, some OF them as heavy as ten tons,
and all as hideous as heavy. The mighty
and massive calendar stone, with the signs
of the Zodiac not notably different from our
own, cut inches deep by the curious little
Aztec, who never knew what steel or iron
was till he felt its force in the edge of the
Christians sword.
But the largest idol ever seen lies out on
the base of Popocatapetl, fat on its back in
a wooded gorge, staring forever up at the
sun and rain, and miles from the nearest
habitation. 1t is of granite, the primitive
stone of Mexico, says Sir Charles Lysle, and
this primitive granite is SO overlaid with
lava now that granite is rarely found in all
this region.
This huge and hideous idol was the god
of the rains. Twelve openings in the belly.
from which waters were supposed to flow,
represent the u months. The head is hol-
lowed, and fattened on top. once spread
my blanket in this hollow head and spent
the night there alone, listening, listeningl
This idol once stood in q mighty temple,
reared to the god of rain. The temple is
entirely swept away now. Not a vestige,
save this idol, remains. At and along the
base of the mountain here II churches were
reared from the ruins, which the natives
were compelled to drag down the mountain
for that purpose. Each one OF these II
Christian edi6ces stands in the midst of the
most piteous gathering of helpless, hopeless,
dispirited and despairing human beings to
be found on this continent. The bells toll
regularly in each edifce, and SO do the
priests.
The idol can never be removed. It cannot
even be broken, by any modern appliances.
It is too massive.
All the earth below to Lake Tezenco and
up the mountain to the site of the ancient