ADDRESS OF REV. H. EDDY, D. D. 



17 



there is power in the cyclone when it raises a city from its found- 

 ations ; there is power in the ocean when, together with the storm, 

 it hurls the iron navy to the bottom ; but there is no power like 

 that when the populace is aroused to indignation of wrath. The 

 pillars of society are heaved from their foundations, and blind 

 ruin stalks over the most glorious productions of time. The en- 

 mity of the upper classes is impotent ; but when the cry of brute 

 force is stirred from the deeps of society, as deaf to the voice of 

 reason as the ocean when churned into raving foam, then the 

 heart of mere earthly oak quails before it. Such a force clipped 

 off the heads from the shoulders of aristocrats until the very gut- 

 ters smoked with the blue blood of France. 



I am no socialist, I am no communist, I am no nihilist, I am no 

 anarchist, but I go for the under dog. Many are feeling in the 

 same way. Conscience is touched. A great question is being 

 mooted. The arbitrary power of monopolies is being called to 

 account. Their right to regulate the wages of workmen denied, 

 on the ground that no man, and much less a corporation of men, 

 can be trusted with arbitrary power. And no power is more arbi- 

 trary than great wealth. It would be so with every one of us 

 doubtless. There are two classes in the world, namely, million- 

 aires and those who want to be millionaires. The greatest evil 

 that threatens us to-day is this mania for wealth. It is leading and 

 has led to the most stupendous crimes of the age; land thieving 

 by the millions, watering stocks by the millions, which, said the 

 late Prof. Hitchcock of Union Theological seminary, N. Y., "should 

 be the shortest way to Sing Sing." 



But there is promise. There is a distant twinkling of dawn. 

 The day will break. While, 



The morning comes not; yet the night 

 Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see 

 Where twilight is, where light shall be, 

 When conquered wrong and conquering right, 

 Acclaim a world set free. 



Surely, that wiser time shall come, 



When this fine overplus of might, 



No longer sullen, slow and dumb, 



Shall leap to music and to light; 



In that new child of the world. 



Life itself shall dance and play, 



Fresh blood thro' Time's shrunk veins be hurled, 



And labor meet delight half way. 





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