when you come to illustrate it in practical physics, and so with even the best kind of theoretical philanthropy.  The theoretical solution of the problems, social and economic, which confront us is put “out of gear” by facts, about which, alas, the clergy are not as careful as they are about their theory; and, therefore, I plead for a lay enthusiasm.  But surely there is no better lay element than the legal to act as ballast for the clergy in pleading the cause of philanthropy and piety and righteousness.

Then I would suggest first of all, that the Pulpit needs to leave the A, B, C’s of morality, about which it has been pottering so long, and begin to spell words and sometimes have a reading lesson in morals.  That is, that it should apply its principles to practical living issues and questions of the day.  And I plead to the lawyers to come out once in awhile from the technicalities of practice, and from their worship of cleverness and success, and look to the mission which is laid on them, namely, to bear witness to justice and righteousness. [Applause.] My toast would be “Common sense in the Pulpit and a love of righteousness at the Bar.”

JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE

THE PRESS

[Speech of James Jeffrey Roche at the banquet of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, New York City, March 17, 1894.  John D. Crimmins presided.  Mr. Roche, as editor of the “Boston Pilot,” responded for “The Press.”]

MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN OF THE FRIENDLY SONS OF ST. PATRICK:—­I am deeply sensible of the honor you have done me in inviting me to respond to the toast which has just been read.

The virtues of the Press are so many and so self-evident that they scarcely need a eulogist.  Even the newspapers recognize and admit them.  If you had asked a New York journalist to sing the praises of his craft, his native and professional modesty would have embarrassed his voice.  If you had asked a Chicagoan, the honorable chairman would have been compelled to resort to cloture before the orator got through.  If you had asked a Philadelphian, he would have been in bed by this hour.

Therefore, you wisely went to the city which not only produces all the virtues—­but puts them up in cans, for export to all the world.  We do not claim to know everything, in Boston—­but we do know where to find it.  We have an excellent newspaper press, daily and weekly, and should either or both ever, by any chance, fail to know anything—­past, present, or to come—­we have a Monday Lectureship, beside which the Oracle of Delphi was a last year’s almanac. [Applause.]