Paterson (Revised Edition) (8 page)

benches.

But as he rests, they sing—when

prodded—as he wipes his prismed brow.

The light

fondles it as if inclined to form a halo—

Then he laughs:

One sees him first. Few listen.

Or, in fact, pay the least

attention, walking about, unless some Polock

with his mouth open tries to make it out,

as if it were some Devil (looks into the faces

of a young couple passing, laughing

together, for some hint) What kind of priest

is this? Alarmed, goes off scowling, looking

back.

This is a Protestant! protesting—as

though the world were his own     .

—another,

twenty feet off, walks his dog absorbedly

along the wall top)—thoughtful of the dog—

at the cliff’s edge above a fifty foot drop   .

.     .     alternately the harangue, followed

by horn blasts surmounting

what other sounds     .     they quit now

as the entranced figure of a man resumes—

But his decoys bring in no ducks—other than

the children with their dusty little minds

and happiest
non sequiturs.

No figure

from the clouds seems brought hovering near

The detectives found a note on the kitchen table addressed to a soldier from Fort Bragg, N. C. The contents of the letter showed that she was in love with the soldier, the detective said.

This is what the preacher said: Don’t think

about me. Call me a stupid old man, that’s

right. Yes, call me an old bore who talks until

he is hoarse when nobody wants to listen. That’s

the truth. I’m an old fool and I know it.

BUT     .     !

You can’t ignore the words of Our Lord Jesus

Christ who died on the Cross for us that we

may have Eternal Life!   Amen.

Amen!   Amen!

shouted the disciples standing behind the

benches.   Amen!

—the spirit of our Lord that gives

the words of even such a plain, ignorant fellow

as I a touch of His Own blessed dignity and

and strength among you     .     .

I tell you—lifting up his arms—I bring

the riches of all the ages to you here today.

It was windless and hot in the sun

where he was standing bareheaded.

Great riches shall be yours!

I wasn’t born here. I was born in what we call

over here the Old Country. But it’s the same

people, the same kind of people there as here

and they’re up to the same kind of tricks as over

here—only, there isn’t as much money

over there—and that makes the difference.

My family were poor people. So I started to work

when I was pretty young.

—Oh, it took me a long time! but

one day I said to myself, Klaus, that’s my name,

Klaus, I said to myself, you’re a success.

You have worked hard but you have been

lucky.

You’re

rich—and now we’re going to enjoy ourselves.

Hamilton saw more clearly than anyone else with what urgency the new government must assume authority over the States if it was to survive. He never trusted the people, “a great beast,” as he saw them and held Jefferson to be little better if not worse than any.

So I came to America!

Especially in the matter of finances a critical stage presented itself. The States were inclined to shrug off the debt incurred during the recent war—each state preferring to undertake its own private obligations separately. Hamilton saw that if this were allowed to ensue the effect would be fatal, to future credit. He came out with vigor and cunning for “Assumption,” assumption by the Federal Government of the national debt, and the granting to it of powers of taxation without which it could not raise the funds necessary for this purpose. A storm followed in which he found himself opposed by Madison and Jefferson.

But when I got here I soon found out that I

was a pretty small frog in a mighty big pool. So

I went to work all over again. I suppose

I was born with a gift for that sort of thing.

I throve and I gloried in it. And I thought then

that I was happy. And I was — as happy

as money could make me.

But did it make me GOOD?

He stopped to laugh, healthily, and

his wan assistants followed him,

forcing it out—grinning against

the rocks with wry smiles     .

NO! he shouted, bending

at the knees and straightening himself up

violently with the force of his emphasis—like

Beethoven getting a crescendo out of an

orchestra—NO!

It did
not
make me good. (His clenched fists

were raised above his brows.) I kept on making

money, more and more of it, but it didn’t make

me good.

America the golden!

with trick and money

damned

like Altgeld sick

and molden

we love thee bitter

land

Like Altgeld on the

corner

seeing the mourners

pass

we bow our heads

before thee

and take our hats

in hand

And so

one day I heard a voice … a voice—just

as I am talking to you here today.     .     .

.     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     .

.     .     .     .     .     .     And the voice said,

Klaus, what’s the matter with you? You’re not

happy. I am happy! I shouted back,

I’ve got everything I want. No, it said.

Klaus, that’s a lie. You’re not happy.

And I had to admit it was the truth. I wasn’t

happy. That bothered me a lot. But I was pig-

headed and when I thought it over I said

to myself, Klaus, you must be getting old

to let things like that worry you.

.     .     .     .     .     .     then one day

our blessed Lord came to me and put His hand

on my shoulder and said, Klaus, you old fool,

you’ve been working too hard. You look

tired and worried. Let me help you.

I am worried, I replied, but I don’t know what to

do about it. I got everything that money can

buy but I’m not happy, that’s the truth.

And the Lord said to me, Klaus, get rid of your

money. You’ll never be happy until you do that.

As a corollary to the famous struggle for assumption lay the realization among many leading minds in the young republic that unless industry were set upon its feet, unless manufactured goods could be produced income for taxation would be a myth.

The new world had been looked on as a producer of precious metals, pelts and raw materials to be turned over to the mother country for manufactured articles which the colonists had no choice but to buy at advanced prices. They were prevented from making woolen, cotton or linen cloth for sale. Nor were they allowed to build furnaces to convert the native iron into steel.

Even during the Revolution Hamilton had been impressed by the site of the Great Falls of the Passaic. His fertile imagination envisioned a great manufacturing center, a great Federal City, to supply the needs of the country. Here was water-power to turn the mill wheels and the navigable river to carry manufactured goods to the market centers: a national manufactury.

Give up my money!

—with monotonous insistence

the falls of his harangue hung featureless

upon the ear, yet with a certain strangeness

as if arrested in space

That would be a hard thing

for me to do. What would my rich friends say?

They’d say, That old fool Klaus Ehrens must

be getting pretty crazy, getting rid of his

cash. What! give up the thing I’d struggled all

my life to pile up—so I could say I was rich?

No! that I couldn’t do. But I was troubled

in mind.

He paused to wipe his brow while

the singers struck up a lively hymn tune.

I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t

sleep for thinking of my trouble so that

when the Lord came to me the third time I was

ready and I kneeled down before Him

and said, Lord, do what you will with me!

Give away your money, He said, and I

will make you the richest man in the world!

And I bowed my head and said to Him, Yea, Lord.

And His blessed truth descended upon me and filled

me with joy, such joy and such riches as I

had never in my life known to that day and I said

to Him, Master!

In the Name of the Father

and the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Amen! Amen! echoed the devout assistants.

Is this the only beauty here?

And is this beauty—

torn to shreds by the

lurking schismatists?

Where is beauty among

these trees?

Is it the dogs the owners

bring here to dry their coats?

These women are not

beautiful and reflect

no beauty but gross     .     .

Unless it is beauty

to be, anywhere,

so flagrant in desire     .

The beauty of holiness,

if this it be,

is the only beauty

visible in this place

other than the view

and a fresh budding tree.

So I started to get rid of my money. It didn’t take

me long I can tell you! I threw it away with both

hands. And I began to feel better     .     .     .     .

—and leaned on the parapet, thinking

From here, one could see him—that

tied man, that cold blooded

murderer     .     April! in the distance

being hanged. Groups at various

vantages along the cliff     .     having

gathered since before daybreak

to witness it.

One kills

for money but doesn’t always get it.

Leans on the parapet thinking, while

the preacher, outnumbered, addresses

the leaves in the patient trees     :

The gentle Christ

child of Pericles

and femina practa

Split between

Athens and

the amphioxus

The gentle Christ—

weed and worth

wistfully forthright

Weeps and is

remembered as of

the open tomb

—threw it away with both hands.     .     until

it was gone

—he made a wide motion with both

hands as of scattering money to the winds—

—but the riches that had been given me are

beyond all counting. You can throw them

carelessly about you on all sides—and still

you will have more. For God Almighty has

boundless resources and never fails. There is no

end to the treasures of our Blessed Lord who

died on the Cross for us that we may be saved.

Amen.

The Federal Reserve System is a private enterprise … a private monopoly … (with power) … given to it by a spineless Congress … to issue and regulate all our money.

They create money from nothing and lend it to private business (the same money over and over again at a high rate of interest), and also to the Government whenever it needs money in war and peace; for which we, the people, representing the Government (in this instance at any rate) must pay interest to the banks in the form of high taxes.

The bird, the eagle, made himself

small—to creep into the hinged egg

until therein he disappeared, all

but one leg upon which a claw opened

and closed wretchedly gripping

the air, and would not—for all

the effort of the struggle, remain

inside     .

Witnessing the Falls Hamilton was impressed by this show of what in those times was overwhelming power … planned a stone aqueduct following a proposed boulevard, as the crow flies, to Newark with outlets every mile or two along the river for groups of factories: The Society for Useful Manufactures: SUM, they called it.

The newspapers of the day spoke in enthusiastic terms of the fine prospects of the “National Manufactory” where they fondly believed would be produced all cotton, cassimeres, wall papers, books, felt and straw hats, shoes, carriages, pottery, bricks, pots, pans and buttons needed in the United States. But L’Enfant’s plans were more magnificent than practical and Peter Colt, Treasurer of the State of Connecticut, was chosen in his place.

.          .          .          .          .          The prominent purpose of the Society was the manufacture of cotton goods.

Washington at his first inaugural

.     .     .     .     .     .     wore

a coat of Crow-black homespun woven

in Paterson     .     .     .     .     .     .

In other words, the Federal Reserve Banks constitute a Legalized National Usury System, whose Customer No. 1 is our Government, the richest country in the world. Every one of us is paying tribute to the money racketeers on every dollar we earn through hard work.

.     .     .     .     In all our great bond issues the interest is always greater than the principle. All of the great public works cost more than twice the actual cost, on that account. Under the present system of doing business we
SIMPLY ADD
120 to 150 per cent to the stated cost.

The people must pay anyway; why should they be compelled to pay twice? T
HE WHOLE NATIONAL DEBT IS MADE UP ON INTEREST CHARGES.
If the people ever get to thinking of bonds and bills at the same time, the game is up.

If there is subtlety,

you are subtle.     I beg your indulgence:

no prayer should cause you anything

but tears.     I had a friend     .     .     .     

let it pass.     I remember when as a child

I stopped praying and shook with fear

until sleep—your sleep calmed me   —

You also, I am sure, have read

Frazer’s Golden Bough. It does you

justice—a prayer such as might be made