The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1895-07-04

Look! How the light of your palaces
on fire flashes in the midnight shy Now,
purpled hangmen Of the world, turn and
beg for mercy Where will you find it?
Not from God, for you have blasphemed
His lawsl Not from the people, for you
were baptized in their blood Here you
turn. and 10! gibbetl There, and a
scaffold stares you in the face. All around
you-death-but nowhere pityl Now.
executioners of the human race kneel
down, yes, kneel down on the sawdust Of
the scaffold Lay your perfumed heads
on the block; bless the ak as it fals-the
ak sharpened for the poor mans neck.
Such is the message of the declaration
OF man to the kings of the world. And
shall we falter now? And shall we start
back appalled, when our feet touch the
very threshold of freedom2 Do you see
quailing faces around you. when our
wives have been butchered when the
hearthstones OF our land are red with the
blood of little children? What! are there
shrinking hearts and faltering voices here
when the very dead of our battleflolds
arise and call upon us to sign that parch-
ment or be accursed?
"Sgnl II the next moment the gibbet's
rope is around your neck. Signl If the
next moment the hall rings with the echo
Of the falling ak. Signl BY all your
hopes in life and death, as husbands,
fathers-as men, sign your names to the
parchment or be accursed foreverl
Sign, not only for yourselves. but for
all ages; for the parchment will be the
textbook of freedom, the bible of the
rights OF man forever.
Sign, for the declaration will go forth
to American hearts forever and speak to
those hearts like the voice of God. And
its work will not be done until through
out this wide continent not a single inch
Of ground owns the sway of privilege of
power.
Nay. do not start and whisper with
surprise. 1t is a truth, Your own hearts
witness it; God proclaims it. This con-
tinent is the property of free people, and
their property alone. God, | say, pro-
claims it, Look at this strange history of
a 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 iaith Nay. look
at the history of your Bunker Hill, your
Lexington, where band of farmers
Knocked and trampled down the panoply
of British arms, and then tell me, if you
can, that God has not given America TO be
free. 1t is not given to our human intel
lect to climb to the skies, to pierce the
councils of the Almighty one But me-
thinks l stand among the awful clouds
that veil the brightness of Jehovah's
throne. Methinks | 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:
Father. the old world is baptised in
blood Father, it is drenched with the
blood of millions, butchered in war in
persecution, in slow and grinding oppres-
sion. Father, look With one glance of
Thine eternal eye, look over Europe, Asia,
Africa, and behold evermore terrible
sight-man trodden down beneath the
oppressors feet, nations lost in blood,
murder and superstition 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 human
guilt But bark The voice of Jehovah
speaks out from the awful cloud: Let
there be light again. Let there be new
world. Tell my people, the poor, down
trodden millions, to go out from the old
world. Tell them to go out from wrong,
oppression and blood. Tell them to go
out from the old world to build up my
altar in the new.
"As God lives, my friends. believe
that to be His voice. Yes, were my soul
trembling on the brink of eternity, were
this hand freezing to death, were my voice
choking with the last struggle. would
still. with the last wave of this hand, with
the last gasp of that voice, implore you to
remember the truth-God has given
America to be free, Yes. as | sank down
in the gloomy shadows of the grave, with
my last gasp, would beg you to sign
that parchment in the name of the One
who made the Savior. who redeemed you,
in the name of the millions whose very
breath is now hushed, In intense expccta-
ton they look up TO you for the awful
words-you are free"
Itwould require an angels pen TO picture
the magic of that speaker look. the deep.
terrible emphasis of his voice, the prophet
like beckoning Of his hand, the magnetic
flame shooting from his eyes, 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. Signl Ha. There is no doubt