I cannot stomach the nakedness of a white person. There is something in it so leprous-like. I have heard travelers remark that a half-naked black or dark skinned person, is not at all repugnant compared to one of a white skin. Naturally I am inclined to a dark skin, and cannot but think that God knew what He was doing when He gave colored skins to people living in the tropics where clothes are a burden, that their dark complexions might take the place of clothes, and they be protectively colored. On the same principle nature clothes animals and insects with the colors of their surroundings. Still, I think, human animals ought to get their color as well as their being in a legitimate way. I know this reflection is to mine own detriment. All this poverty showed this one thing, at least, that the present organization of society is at fault, or that God had made a failure in creating these people. It may be, as Alexander Knox says, “The mass of these people in our towns are spawned upon the world rather than born into life.” Or as another has said: “Born into the world only to be a blight to it.” Their very existence as they are, plainly declares that there is a fault somewhere by somebody. This poverty plead for itself. It reminded me of the story of a beggar sitting silently by the wayside. A passer-by asked, “Why don’t you beg, man? Why don’t you speak?” “Speak!” said the beggar, “when every rent in my clothes is a mouth that proclaims my wants with more eloquence than I could with my tongue!” Going from Vanity Fair to this crowd, was like going from heaven to hell, only a short distance apart; the one a picture of the arrogance of the rich, the other the debasement of the poor. I do not like to compare the church parade to heaven, as it was only a show, a mock heaven at best, but there was no hunger there, nor rags, though, no doubt, plenty of lust, vice and crime under those rich clothes. Yet the outward contrast was very great. Should it not be a subject of serious reflection that after six thousand years of the world’s progress, and nearly two thousand of the teachings of Christianity, a few people in the world should live in exuberant luxury, and the great majority in squalid poverty, the world a hell for millions of poor, in order to create a paradise for the very few rich? “Famine gnawing at their entrails, and despair feeding at their hearts, Gropes for its right with horny, callous hands, And stares around for God with bloodshot eyes.” “Let us be patient, lads,” said a pious weaver, “surely God Almighty will help us soon.” “Don’t talk about your goddlemighty,” said one, “there isn’t any, or he wouldn’t let us suffer as we do.” Why all this poverty and misery? There must be an adequate cause for it, some powerful disorganizing element to produce such a condition of things. A tract-man handed me several leaflets, from which I culled the following: