Year: 1861

From an address by T. w. Brown delivered at
of delirium tremens.


You gentlemen who hold to the con-
trary: Go! where night is the blacklist,
and poor weary hearts are slowly break
ing under their weight of woe-tell
them you have joyous news! Tell
them that, for all this bitter desolation,
your palm is filled with gold! Tell
the smitten victim of the household
tha. out of their mouths, off their backs,
and from their blighted fields, you and
your chosen instrument have gathered
a harvest of gold! Tell the pale,
wasting wife and mother, that y0at
have pretty per centage of all that
was noble in the husband or kind in the
father, in yellow gold! Tell the drunk
ard as he dreams perchance, that he
can yet beat back the red pillows which
toss and consume him, that for his poor
body's death and souls damnation, you
have gold! Stand at the threshold OF
the poor house, and mockingly taunt
the squalid, the deformed, and the idi-
otic, with the news that, out of all their
ruin, you gathered gold! Stand by
the prison door, and as the remorseless
hinge shrieks after the victims it en-
tombs, peer through the grating and
cheer the living dead, with the news
that you sold them to crime and to in
fanny, for gold! Hail shelterless or
phanage in the street, and tell them
that you sold them to be crucified, and
robbed them of bread, education, par
ents and home, for gold! Tell the
murderer that you made him murder
er, for gold Stand by the new graves
of the last twelve months and whisper
to the fifty thousand sleepers-victims
of your regulated traffic-that you
slew them for gold Enter the vesti-
bule of Perdition, and with the Bible
in hand, read that no drassskdrd shall
inherit eternal life, and as the fitting
ghosts of uncounted thousands charge
you with their deep damnation, COM
fort them with the assurance that you
did it for gold! Follow your slaught-
cred hosts to the judgment, and when
he who called the first fratricide to ac-
count, shall call for your brother, an
swer that You slew him for gold
"For Gold !" the angels shall echo, and
weep. ''For Gold!" shall mocking
devils catch up the cry, and taunt earth
that Gin all Hell, there is nothing so
damnably unrighteous,'' as this system
of financiering on earth and in Chris
tian land.


For gold, a few men are driving this
villainous trade in Palmyra; here by
your firesides; by the school where
your children are taught and the church
es where you worship. As We have
sown, so are We reaping. The seed
time of appetite has been followed by
the harvest of death; and in unutter-
able desolation sits one who feels the
jagged shaft to the deepest soul. Let
those who deal in rum and those who
sanction its sale, lock arms and visit
that smitten household and mock them
if they dare, by telling them that all
this would have been right, had the
fiendish work been accomplished by
authority, and the treasury ef the town
had its tithe of gold! Should the
weeping Niobe ask: Whereis my hus-
band-your brother? aQswer insolent-
ly that you were not his keeper; and
as the aching heart looks hopelessly
out Of the pleading eycfem her that
she ought to be resisaed when she re-
fleets that few living in your midst
killed her husband 'r "old. Range
yourselves around Il


is at rest, under IL


the winters drift


yourselves if you


ever go up from th


in the judgment, and


Let the keepers &C


housee> perpetuate


erecting sab siabband


which shall endure for all ill.,
tho nm n orciunod Slaw Daniel Mel TauUh.