CHAPTER XX. 



THE DEMON OF GKEED. 



What of men in bondage, toiling, blunted, 



In the roaring factory's lurid gloom? 

 What of cradled infants, starved and stunted? 



What of woman's nameless martyrdom? 

 The all-seeing sun shines on unheeding, 



Shines by night the calm, unruffled moon, 

 Though the human myriads, preying, bleeding, 



Put creation harshly out of tune. 



Mathilde Blind. 



Are there no wrongs of nations to redress; 

 No misery -frozen sons of wretchedness; 

 No orphans, homeless, staining with their feet 

 The very flag-stones of the wintry street; 

 No broken-hearted daughters of despair, 

 Forlornly beautiful, to be your care? 

 Is there no hunger, ignorance, or crime? 

 O that the prophet-bards of old, sublime, 

 That grand Isaiah and his kindred just, 

 Might rouse ye from your slavery to the dust. 



T. L. Harris. 



ONE of the most prominent features of our century 

 has been the enormous and continuous growth of wealth, 

 without any corresponding increase in the well-being of 

 the whole people ; while there is ample evidence to show 

 that the number of the very poor of those existing 

 with a minimum of the bare necessaries of life has 

 enormously increased, and many indications that they 

 constitute a larger proportion of the whole population 

 than in the first half of the century, or in any earlier 

 period of our history. 



