Part 22 (1/2)
”Sure--aint you glad?”
”Yes--but----”
”Say, have a cup of hot coffee, won't you?”
”Thank you, I think I will.”
His intuition was keen enough to perceive that the trouble was mental and as I took the coffee he said:
”Discouraged a bit, hey?”
Without waiting for a reply he proceeded to tell me how a few words of mine at one of the trolleymen's midnight meetings had changed his life. He went into details and as he went on I saw a look of contentment on his face and as I watched, it changed the look on my own.
I could not drink his coffee but I shared his comrades.h.i.+p and as I went back home I became normal. Hate left my heart. I was beaten, in a way; but the love of mankind was a fundamental thing and the other was a mental storm that pa.s.sed over and left no ill results.
Things took a new turn that morning. We saw a rift in the clouds and were encouraged. It became clear that my work in New Haven was ended.
I took a commission from the Young Men's Christian a.s.sociation on West 57th Street to open up meetings in some of the big shops and factories of New York.
Mr. Charles F. Powlison, who is one of the largest minded and n.o.blest hearted men in the a.s.sociation, is special secretary there, and it was through his faith and confidence that the work came to me.
The Interborough Rapid Transit Company gave us permission to hold meetings in several of their largest shops.
I enjoyed the work very much--these big crowds of men in jumpers and overalls had a fascination for me. The work in the Interborough went well for a year. I reviewed great books, I gave the biographies of the world's greatest men, I talked of ethics, science, art and religion.
I taught the truth as I understood it; but it was all utterly unsectarian and universal. In one shop the company cleaned out the junk and replaced it with a restaurant: the superintendent told me it was the result of my work there. My talks were never over fifteen minutes long and seldom over ten. I was always a.s.sisted by a musician of some sort.
The work went well for a year in the big shops; then my part in them came to an abrupt end.
The board of directors at the West Side Y.M.C.A. is composed of representative men of affairs in New York--men of big responsibilities and large wealth; as splendid a set of men as ever governed an inst.i.tution.
This particular Y.M.C.A. was a pioneer inst.i.tution in a big way. It stood for large things when those things were unpopular. It was a heretic in a way. In ten years the procession came up and the inst.i.tution seemed to stand still.
It had given the Y.M.C.A. world a larger outlook in religion and it may be that it will yet become a pioneer in giving it a larger sociology.
I was one of two men to address the board of directors one night and I stated the case at more length than I do here.
”What shall I tell those workingmen you stand for?” I asked. ”Do you believe in the right of the workers to organize? If you do, say so, and, as your representative, let me tell them that you do.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Lunch Hour in an Interborough Shop]
The next time I addressed a big shop meeting I gave the musician all the minutes save three. Several hundreds of men stood around me--disorganized, poorly paid men.
”Men,” I said, ”there is in this city a thing called the Civic Federation. Its leaders are directly the owners of this shop. In it are also leaders of labour, Mitch.e.l.l and Gompers. There are several bishops of various beliefs. Now the Civic Federation tells us--tells the world--that it believes in labour unions. What I want to suggest is this: A dozen of you get together; write a note to your masters and ask them if that belief applies to _you_?”
Of course I knew it didn't apply to them, but I got very tired merely telling the slaves to be good, and ended my service there in that way.
A spy at once informed the superintendent, and I was told--the Y.M.C.A. was told--that I could never enter their shops again. The man who succeeded me as a speaker at that shop, the following week, went much further; he positively advised them to organize, for hardly in the United States could one find greater need of organization.
CHAPTER XIX