Image provided by: Silverton Country Historical Society; Silverton, OR
About Torch of reason. (Silverton, Oregon) 1896-1903 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 4, 1900)
T H E TORCH OF REASON, SIL V E R T O N , OREGON, OCTOBER 4, E. M. 300 (1900.) 6 Song of the Webfoot Land. A u n t F ran ces an d E stelle. BY W. P. SCLLIVAN. by m . m . t . I sing of a land and a golden stra n d , T hat lies on P acific’s shore, W here tall firs stan d in p h alan x grand, K eeping tim e w ith th e o cean’s roar. T here peaks of snow , w ith lordly brow, W atch o’er th e valleys wide. T he to rren ts flow, and ice stream s plow T h eir way dow n th e m o u n tain side. These steeps sublim e, g reat oak and pine Have graced for years u n to ld . The elk and deer roam blithesom e here, F earing n a u g h t b u t h u n te rs bold. H ere big, black bear in hidden lair Chews lam b and y o u th fu l sw ine. H is toothsom e fare, sleek coyotes sh are, And all have a lovely tim e. T here m any a stre am , like a h appy dream , G lides down th e vale so fair; W illam ette ’s sheen, in th e su n lig h t’s gleam , M akes a crown of jew els rare. On h er b an k s we sta n d ; on e ith e r h an d Are plains and w oodland shade. T he landscape scan n ed , sa y : “ H e re ’s th e land T he gods’ own h an d s have m a d e .” To tell th e tale of h ill, and dale, And stre am , all tim e and space W ould surely fail, nor words avail T h at my poor pen could trace. For field and m ine, w ith woods com bine Its tim b er, gold and w heat, To show, in fine, a land d iv in e; All th in g s on earth com plete. H ere luscious pear, and peach com pare T h eir cheeks w ith th e beautioua rose; W ith p ru n es of blue and silver hue T he big red apple grow s; And ch erries fair, w ith grapes so rare, T he touch and taste invite. A ll th a t trees bear ‘‘F ru it Palace” th ere P resen ts a royal sig h t. T he a ir so still, sweet blossom s fill W ith scents from tree and vine, And zephyrs trill o’er wooded h ill. W ith sniff of o cean’s b rin e. T hough th e r e ’s no fear of cyclones h e re To strew you o ’er th e plain. S hould one ap p ear, from far and near T h e y ’d pick you up again. W hen breezes blow, d o n ’t look for snow, W ith blizzard in its tra in . The “ Oregon m is t” will never d e sist, Till sum m er resum es h e r re ig n ; W hen its gentle fall drops over all A veil of glistening rain , “ S p u d s” n o t sm all, and tu rn ip s tall, Rise up to grow ag ain . W ith “ m ossy” back, th e y say ’tie fact T he m ud th e g ran g er plods A nd w here th e re ’s lack, th e grass on th e ir back Grow s in to v e rd a n t sods. H is “ donation claim ” is a k in g ’s dom ain ; W ith gold his purse is filled. If ’tw ill bu t rain w ith m ight and m ain, AU care in his b reast is stilled. H is spouse so good, a likely brood Of “ native so n s” has reared ; S hould W illa m e tte ’s flood subm erge Mt. Hood, No danger need lie feared ; For one and all, both g reat and sm all, W ould paddie them selves to land ; For betw een th e ir toes a tough skin grows K ind N a tu re ’s “ Webfoot** b rand. Nor is h e r son th e only one To sound fair O regon’s fam e; For those who come from th e rising sun W ill honor, too, h e r nam e. T hen from Scappoose to Siskiyous, We sh o u t on every h a n d ; T he Cascades blue, will echo, too, H u rra h , for th e W ebfoot land ! (Suggested by the editorial com m ent in the Torch of Reason on an article in the Y o u th ’s Companion for April, 1900, E. M. 300.) A unt Frances. I speak passion ately Estelle, for once I lost hope. Estelle. I enjoy life so much th a t I don’t seem to hope for any thing, it is so beautiful to see the flowers growing, so deeply in terest ing to see the birds and their ways; even the m aking of bread is a poem to me, with its memories of broad 3unny fields, m an’s out door indus try , then the m ixing and m ingling and the silent work of th ey east, all controled by the changeless laws of nature, the realization of which brings an ever growing feeling of delight. I am very sorry you studied the “ old philosophy” A unt Frances, no wonder you felt learned and a s tute and so much above your com panions th a t you became “ lone some.” It seems to me th a t the more one lives with nature, under stan d s and loves her laws, the more hum ble and n atural they become, the more sym pathy and kinship they feel with their brother man. You say you once lost hope? Hope of w hat? A unt Frances. Hope of bliss and peace beyond the grave. A hope I never could have had but for this day of resurrection. visited on those who were not him, and in the friendly particcps criminis ? I cannot ac- he seems to wish :— cept injustice as love. spirit Mr. Bland’s Last. A unt France«. My dear, you m ust have faith. M artin L uther said “ The highest perfection of faith is to believe th a t God is just though he necessarily causes our dam nation and eeemeth to enjoy the sufferings of the sinful.” ______ tQ nQW get g( th(, very hearl o( thie whole D)al(eri , he fu n d a n ie n ta| queetion underlying a |, intel|igeI)t diecusBion of 't h i s eubject 6jlI,ply Jg. Ig (hj8 p ower which (he univer9e everyw here Estelle. I cannot have such faith, it is horrid. I cannot be afraid of a god any more th an I am of my dear fath er. I will not accept the redem ption secured by the shedding of the blood of an in nocent victim. m anifests, and of whose m anifesta- tions ail th in g s are but the expres- siou, a self-conscious Power, or is it not? Or, p u t in cu rren t philosoph- ic phrase, is th a t system of efficient causes, which everyw here we see in operation, w ithin the guiding grasp of a conscient and foreseeing F irst Cause? And to th a t question it is perfectly evident th a t no pos itive answ er can possibly he given, as, to the knowing, it is equally certain th a t the very d ata which might m ake such answ er possible is not even conceivable. W hile if any one would realize how im pos sible such an answ er is, and how even inconceivable is the d ata th at m ight furnish it; let us tu rn to Spencer’s “ F irst Principles,” and read its opening chapters on “ The U nknow able.” Such, then, our friend’s depict- ment of the w riter m ight have been, had he my “ G ospel” read with care and with carefulness represented; W hile if the reader would perceive what his portrayal is, let him turn to your issue. Now one word more, friend W akem an! and this the last, the last th at on our issue 1 sh all ever pen. Though here I some u n g ra cious things have said, yet it is all over now, and in me there will no ungraciousness rem ain. Not, my brother! upon these sm all m atters on which we differ let us dwell; but ra th e r, upon those su rp assin g ly great ones on which we do not differ, upon the priceless worth of liberty, the deathless glory of tru th , the suprem e desirability of happiness; never forgetting the wise old proverb, th a t while “ o p in ions are m any, tru th is one, and we are brothers.” How The Rev. J. P. Bland Closes Out. BY T. B. W. In the Boston Investigator of Septem ber 22, Rev. Mr. Bland prints over four colum ns of reply to Mr. W akem an's review of his “ de ity and im m o rtality .” resulting from his “ Gospel of E v o lu tio n ” and then “cries enough,” for he says he will not add another word. Those who read the articles under “ Ignorabim us” in the Torch of Sep tem ber 6, may read this reply, but it is too long to rep rin t in the Torch, and does not m ake any new point. Much of the reply is taken up in disparagem ent of Mr. W ake man and calling him offensive nam es, which seems to us a waste of tem per and print. I t then tries to show th a t Mr. W akeman did not understand or else m isrepre sented his position to be th a t of an “ affirm ant” of God and Im m o rtali ty, when he was sim ply an “ Ag nostic” about them . But w hat we insisted was th at th e words Power, E nergy and Force etc., m ust no longer be used in the old m etaphysical sense as m eaning en tity , thing, and so a God of some kind, but in the m odern Scientific sense as changes in m atter and ether, which being correlative, equivalent and endless in tim e and space, m ake the end of this whole God and “ Agnostic” business. T h at leaves usno th in g to sta n d upon but H eckels’ last expression, “ God and AND the world areo n e” . T hat his position was not m istated at all is proved conclusively by his final words in S ilv e r to n , O re this very reply, which repeats the M a in S t r e e t very sam e un-Scientific fog and CARRY A COMPLETE STOCK OF dubious agnostic* “ know nothing- ism, which is the basis and cause School of all “ nothingarian, do-nothing and good-for-nothingism ;”— all of Supplies which is now out of Science and out of date; and which we held, and Books and still hold up to Liberals, as the very th in g to get out of, if an y th in g ionery. realy good is to be done in and for this world: he ends it all up thus, and bv this quotation we leave, in Dealers in Fruits, Vegetables Estelle. I should think th at hoping for som ething better than this life and beyond it, would take the interest and joy out of it, in ducing one to be a stone, and lead a life of stern, false virtue. I cannot understand why, though practicing this stern virtue, you could not love your relations and your friends, unless they cast you off because you d id n ’t th in k as they did. You say th a t the “ philosophy of C hrist is love.” It seems to me th a t this philosophy, until Science had won her victories over theolo gy, strewed the path of life with blood and agony. The different construction of this philosophy d i vides com m unities into factions, disuniting and dem oralizing. Now after 2000 years, all but a few m onths, the professors of this p h il osophy are killing off the weaker races and taking possession of their lands. A unt Frances. Think E stelle of the love of your heavenly father, who gave his only son, “ begotten before all worlds” to be crucified for our salvation. Estelle. Did not God of his own will make A dam ’s unborn descen d an t participate in Adam’s sin? H ad not an om nipotent God a b» t- ter way th an to m ake an innnocent one bear the penalty of this curse every sense, the “ last w ord” with KINNEV PORTER and Confectionery.