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SHALLWill Hubbard Kern an S»y» 4*Jt©»**Tell* Why He Says* It.JfpecSai CerrwwouLonc:'. 1New York. Oct. 4.—Mankind isbrio*.* the standard it will ultimately reach—I mean the rabblement of mankind. They still dfah play the old, fierce, tigerspirit of the P«st in many ways; still delight in the devil* thing called war; still tingle with an infernal feeling of pleasure at witnessing a prize fight or other exhibition of evil prowess, and still treat their children aa the slave driver treated his slave.The greatest intellect of onr country—the one who lias gone furthest in freeing himself of precedent, the one whose sermons on the sweet humanities have done more for the betterment of the world than all the homiies ever preached from pulpit—says that the «« who whips a little cowering atom of a child is the most contemptible coward in the anf verse. And he is.Think of a great, brawny fellow gripping « poor, trembling child by the arm, and beat ing it with fist or laah till it cries out, and sinks.to the floor in agony!When ever I see a sight like that, my blood boils with a wrath unspeakable. The utter helplessness of the victim appeals to every instinct of justice in my brain, heart, soulI knew a lad once. He was only 10 yean old. He was as beautiful as a dream of beauty. There was a grace in his attitude*— a glory in his eyes—a something indefinable to his very presence—in the unconscious lisp, the turn of band and neck, the peculiarity of thought and tone—that made him . one of the most lovable beings I ever saw. His mother, a Spanish lady, died in giving him birth. His father was a coarse, cruel Englishman-one of those sordid cMds that vou can find by the multitude in the mines and nulls of England; u great i«ig of meat and bones, unfired by a solitary my of the divine light that constitutes intellect.To kicks and curses this lad was treated, until one day, in his tenth year, when—for some trifling thing—the father whipped him till the Mood trickled to his heels.Kevor do that again 1” cried the boy, a horrible light Hashing in Ids big, beautiful eyes. '■'■ vcr dare touch me with whip again!'1Maddened by these words, the furious father returned anti struck the hoy again.But only oitec—only once!Quicker than 1 can tell it the child pulled a revolver, shot his father dead, and then, turning t he smoking barrel against his own breast, fired and fell buck into the infinite mystery !’:r*.• whence he came.That father did not understand the 1 wing to whom he had given lib—what jwrent does? Having been treated like a dog, mayhap, by his own progenitors, and having submitted like a dog, he thought his own ton would suiter submissively as well,I have often said, and 1 hold it to lie * truism, that the spirit of brutality still remaining in the heart of the race springs from the parental treatment meted out to U children of the tougher clashes, and ns Ion as corporeal punishment continues in ti households of the world just that long wi the masses of humanity fail to realize th ideal of its interpreter* and prophets.Will Hubbard KernCR\AN.
Newspaper Details
Lawrence Gazette
Lawrence, Kansas, US
Thu, Oct 07, 1886
Page 3
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 07 Apr 2025
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