I know no better description of Debs than that of Wm. C. Pomeroy in the Eight Hour Herald, as follows: "I am sitting on the stage of a great meeting of people, my eyes are closed in dreamy reverie, I hear a voice whose resonant tones are familiar to my ears, the voice, the words bear me in imagination back to the days of Rome, and Caius Gracchus is proclaiming the coming liberty of the people. The words of flaming eloquence suddenly change into the rugged tones of Cola di Rienzi, crying: 'Arouse, ye Romans; arouse, ye slaves.' The words are sweet to the ears, and stir my soul to extacy. Soft, I am no longer in the Eternal City, but wander among the hills and dales of Judea, and the voice has changed again. This time 'tis the compassionate tones of Him of Galilee, beseeching to 'love ye one another,' now swift changing in its mellifluous harmony, I hear Pandora whisper 'the dawn approaches, take heart of hope,' and Prometheus answers with the echoed groans of the suffering, sighing souls. The air is now filled with stirring martial music, and above its changing cadences pours forth in passionate appeal the stentor voice of Peter, the Hermit, raising in the bosom of men, the lethargic love of duty. Aye; on the German hilltops, pulpited he speaks, and Hermanic in deep-toned thunder hurdles back, 'I come.' Now there is a silence for a space, and the changing draperies of imagination disclose a newer scene. I am in the meeting of the Virginian Burgesses, and the voice has taken on the tones of Patrick Henry. It says: 'Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty,' and, 'he who would be free himself must strike the blow.' Now 'tis Thomas Jefferson giving utterance to, 'we hold these truths to be self evident that all men are born free and equal.' And lo! even as the soft tones of the 'chosen son' die into the distance, the voice of Andrew Jackson hurls forth the edict 'each man and every man in this country, by the eternal, must and shall be free.' "The echoing ages take up the dictum and it becomes mingled with the tones of him who at Gettysburg spoke the immortal flaming words: 'This nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and the government of the people, by the people and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.' Scarce had the utterance of the martyr ceased to fill the air when Lowell softly says: "'He's true to God, who's true to men, whenever wrong is done. To the humblest and the weakest of all the beholding sun; That wrong is also done to us, and they are slaves most base, Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all the race.' "My brain is puzzled. How comes it, I ask myself, that these heroes dead and gone are near me here to-day?