Judge, 1897-12-18 · page 21 of 53
Judge — December 18, 1897 — page 21: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains social criticism wrapped in Christmas-themed religious imagery. **Main Poem ("Angels of the Christmas-Tide")**: A moral critique comparing modern America to biblical corruption. The poet laments that Christ's message of peace has been displaced by greed, commercialism, and labor exploitation. References to "money-changers" (evoking Christ's temple cleansing) and "workers...with folded hands" suggest criticism of both capitalist excess and workers' suffering during the Gilded Age. The poem appeals to restore Christian values of caring for the poor and treating people as brothers rather than commodities. **Lower Cartoons**: - Upper right: Appears to satirize religious hypocrisy or preaching - Lower: "Where Ignorance is Bliss" depicts working-class Irish immigrants (suggested by dialect spelling), humorously showing domestic life disconnected from the broader social problems the poem addresses The page's overall message: American society has abandoned Christian principles for profit, while the poor suffer—a common Progressive Era critique of 1890s inequality.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Christmas Judge. ANGELS OF THE CHRISTMAS-TIDE. GWEET angels of the Christmas-tide, Who heralded the Prince of Peace, Ob, bring Him to our world again! We've shut Him in a sphere outside. And as the busy years increase He's crowded from the hearts of men. He would not know our temple shrines, { Where human lives are bought and sold, \es All drunk with greed and self and sin; (4 WA ‘ The lamp of truth but dimly shines, \ \/ : And, like the wicked king of old, sc We will not let the Master in. RG } yuu ‘The workers in His market-place i Hi Stand idly there with folded hands And sullen mien and muttered breath ; And mothers clutch with frenzied face Their starving little housebold bands, ‘And hopelessly they pray for death. Sweet angels of the Christmas-tide, You hear the anthem’s silver rune, You hear the merry clash of bells ; His blessed poor are crucified Each day in agony that swells, And all the world is out of tune. Let discord and dissension cease, And all His people be as one. Oh, comfort hearts so bruised and sore! Herald again the Prince of Peace, With love effulgent as the sun, Difusing all the earth once more. Sweet angels, come with praise and shout, And make men brothers, all akin. Our temples so impure have grown, Turn all the money-changers out, Bring the poor suffering wanderers in, Restore the Master to His own. ** Does he preach extemporancously ?” “No; not so very.” RuMA PLAYTER SEABURY, WHERE IGNORANCE Is BLISS. Mars. Ketty—“ Pathrick, Pathrick, did yez putt out th’ cat?” Mr. Keiry (drowsily)—"' Oi did-—{ to Aimsei/) lasht noight.” ComrmanT 1897 GY THE JUDGE PUBLISHING COMPAMY OF MEW YORK, comicbooks.com