ungry children fed on their way to school, and men who
know how to make money, giving it away for the relief of suffering and
uplift of mankind as never before. Don't tell me the world is getting
worse.

I was in New York City for two weeks at the time of the Titanic
disaster. On Saturday evening before the ocean tragedy I stood on the
elevated at the corner of Thirty-third and Broadway. The "Great White
Way" was thronged with pleasure-seekers, crowding their way to
theatres and picture shows. It seemed to me I never saw the great city
so gay. But, on Monday morning after, there came on ether waves the
appalling news that the finest ship in the world had gone down, and
sixteen hundred human beings had gone with it. I never witnessed such
a transformation. It seemed to me every woman had tears in her eyes,
and every man a lump in his throat. Actors played to empty houses that
evening; a pall hung over the great Metropolis. But when details came,
with them came the triumph of humanity. The rich had died for the
poor, the strong had died for the weak.

John Jacob Astor had turned away from his fine mansion on Fifth
Avenue, his summer home at Newport, his hundred millions of dollars in
wealth, and was found spending his last moments saving women and
children. All honor to the brave young bridegroom who carried his
bride to a life boat, said, "good-bye sweetheart," kissed her and
stepping back went down with the ship. All hail to that loyal loving
Hebrew wife and mother, Mrs. Straus, who holding to her husband's arm
said: "I would rather die with you than live without you." Like Ruth
of old, she said: "Where thou goest, I will go; where thou diest I
will die, and there will I be buried." There side by side at the ocean
gateway to eternity these old lovers went down together.

Ah! this republic will never perish while we have such manhood and
womanhood to live and die for its honor.

It has been said: "We live in a materialistic age; that all human
activities are born of selfishness; that manhood is dying out of the
world." All over the land at midnight, men lean from the saddles of
iron horses, peering down the railroad track, ready to die if need be
for the safety of those entrusted to their care. Firemen will climb
ladders tonight and their souls will go up in flames, like Jim
Bludsoe's, to save the lives of imperiled women and children.

Look at the orchestra on board the Titanic. When the supreme moment of
danger c