Baltimore Evening Sun (23 June 1913): 6.

From the Democratic Telegram’s weekly excoriation of the Hon. William L. Marbury:

So long as it is thought that the President is part sponsor of Mr. Marbury’s candidacy, so long will the people of Maryland look upon Mr. Marbury as the man who will make the Federal appointments in this State, and thus Mr. Marbury will have to stand the consequences.

Well, what of it? If all the consequences he has to stand are like the consequences of the appointment of the Hon. Sherlock Swann, it is not likely that he will do much complaining.

A DAILY THOUGHT. Here’s tae us! Who’s like us? Domned few! So here’s tae us!–Old Scotch toast.

From “Education and Preventive Medicine,” by Norman Edward Ditman, Ph. D., M. D. (page 61):

At the present time in New York a prodigious effort is being made to improve the condition of the poor by enlisting the services of “social workers” drawn from the better classes of our citizens. If their effort were as well and intelligently directed as their zeal is great, enormous results could be accomplished.

From the watchful Sunpaper’s account of the Hon. William H. Anderson’s exposure of his wounds:

Mr. Anderson then had envelopes for contributions to the Anti-Saloon League’s campaign fund distributed through the congregation.

And when the plates were dumped, I venture to add, the hon. gent’s carpetbag bulged with mazuma. What is more, it will bulge every Sunday for forty Sundays to come, and the hon. gent. will be lucky if the Sunday-schools do not venerate him to death. The donkeyish assault of the Hon. Robert Lee Ulman will be worth thousands to the Anti-Saloon League before it is forgotten. I should be glad to discount its usufructs, indeed, for $10,000 cash. Col. Jacobus Hook, a more daring banker, would probably offer $11,000 or $12,000. The Hon. Mr. Anderson will still be cashing in on that grotesque encounter when the swallows homeward fly. To the Hon. Young Cochran, the moral underwriter, it will be like finding money.

By what process of thought, or alleged thought, the Hon. Mr. Ulman arrived at his delusion of a holy mission I do not profess to know. His previous career, unless I am incorrectly informed, had not been such as to entitle him to a commission in chivalry. But even supposing that he had been super-eminent for virtue, there was no call for his interference. The Hon. Mr. Anderson’s letter to the Sunpaper was its own sufficient answer. It laid down a doctrine so ridiculous and so outrageous that only professional moralists, sworn to the plupious logic, could have failed to penetrate its absurdity. By the same doctrine the daughters of a firearms manufacturer would be responsible for all murders done with his artillery and the wives of a coffee dealer for all biliousness effected by his beans. Nothing could be more imbecile, not even the statistics of a vice crusader.

But now, thanks to the Hon. Mr. Ulman’s thirst for public notice, that doctrine begins to be illuminated by a sort of heroic glamour. Enchanted by its melodramatic effects, the moral mind fails to apprehend its essential nonsensicality. Already, indeed, it is hailed as undying truth, the while the Hon. Mr. Anderson is canonized for enunciating it. Thus the Rev. Dr. J. F. Heisse yesterday morning:

We glory in one who fearlessly flashes the sword in defense of the truth. Mr. Anderson is always on the firing line * * * suffering wounds and opposition and calumny for us. * * * If he simply sat in his office saying nice things and writing easy words, but unsheathing no sabre or exciting no enmity, we of Maryland would soon lose respect for him. But he * * * fights fearlessly, and we love and trust the gallant fighter.

Not a word in serious justification of the hon. gent’s extravagant sophistries. Not a sign that the Rev. Dr. Heisse doubts the fairness and propriety of such an attack. On the contrary, a plain assumption of its virtue and truth, a plain disposition to accept the whole thing as proved. Considering the matter in cold blood, I have no doubt the Rev. Dr. Heisse would question certain steps in the Hon. Mr. Anderson’s logic. So much we must suppose, indeed, if we are to suppose that the Rev. Dr. Heisse is gifted with common sense. But in the presence of black eyes and gaping wounds it is very difficult for earnest folks to consider anything in cold blood. Their reasoning ceases to be reasoning at all and becomes a process of ecstatic running amuck. And for the present running amuck, with all its evil consequences, we must [sic]

Meanwhile, the Hon. Mr. Anderson, swathed in lint and gauze, is too busy playing cadenzas on the cash register to make any further defense of his late attempt upon the virtue of the clergy. Evidently referred to the fact that the word “confidential” appeared at the top of his letter, he lately accused me of “hitting below the belt” in publishing it. More nonsense. It must be obvious to every student of moral philosophy–if I am wrong, let eminent professors correct me--that there can be no “confidential” relation unless both parties involved consent to it. The essence of a conspiracy, as Blackstone says, is the “meeting of minds.” In the present case that “meeting” was not effected. Even assuming that majority of the rev. clergy fell for the hon. gent’s sinister and immoral proposal, there yet remained a minority who spurned it with indignation. And of that minority, no less than three men, representing three different denominations, sent me the hon. gent’s letter, which was not a letter at all, but a mimeographed circular. And all three requested me, as a conservator of public morals, to expose and bawl out this singularly licentious effort to seduce and debauch the pulpit of our fair city.

That solemn duty I duly performed, not in anger or in exultation, but in the deepest sorrow. I had long regarded the Hon. Mr. Anderson with a degree of respect verging upon actual veneration. I had looked up to him as to a great moral teacher--mistaken, perhaps, in certain details of his jehad, but still chemically pure. It gave me grief inexpressible to take him in an act recalling the studied chicaneries of old-fashioned Sunday-school superintendents.

The estimable Democratic Telegram on the Hon. Oscar W. Underwood.

He has never talked about himself much at all. We do not hear him prating about his policies or holding himself up before the country as the one real apostle of the true, the beautiful and the good.

Here, at least, is one article in the Telegram that the Hon. Dashing Harry did not write.

Boil your drinking water! Give us a dollar-a-day tax on bachelors! Swat the fly!