Life — September 25, 1902 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

peer ee See PROSPERITY 18 HERE. Hard on the Jews. PAX - VOBISCUM HE Jews of New York J feel them- selves aggrieved because of the failure of the Police Department to take action about the riot at Rabbi Joseph's funeral. But one thing is clear enough, and that is that the riot was highly discreditable to the police. The funeral was a demonstration without precedent, attended by enormous, unorganized crowds. The Police Department knew it was coming and ought to have made adequate preparations to take care of it. The truth was the police neglected it, and a row speedily developed into a riot, because there were not policemen enough on hand to check it at the start. The New York police torce is largely Irish. The Jews say it not only fails to give them due protection, but that the members of the force habitually treat the East Side Jews with contempt, and fre- quently with brutality. If that is true, the Jews are doing well to make a fight. Somebody should suffer for the riot at the Chief Rabbi's funeral besides the Jews who were clubbed. Bald-headed Eaglets (as they spy Professor Round nut: BELLO, Dap! Noise. ‘THAT sardonic and very amusing author, Mr. G. S. Street, has written a mourn- ful paper on the ‘ Philosophy of Noise.” Ho bewails in most unphilosophic mood the misery which one-half tho world inflicts upon the other half by the production of sounds which are at once unnecessary and disagreeable. He endeavors to analyze the mental processes which find expression in uproar, the ‘‘ perverse and discontented in- dividualism ' which must be held responsi- ble for the perpetual discords of life. In reality, being an Englishman, he knows very little about the matter, and should be thanking a too partial Providence for the comparative quiet he enjoys. He lives in the Silent Island, where all sounds are softened and modified, and where the very atmosphere refuses to carry them far upon its heavy wings. Had he ever really heard noise—it is plain he never has—he would recognize it at once as a splendid survival of savagery, as a triumphant and inexhaustible outlet for the old primitive instincts, only partially smothered by a wet blanket of civilization. The boy, who is to all intents and pur- poses & young savage, loves noise as the artist says he loves beauty—for its own sake, and quite apart from any significance comicbooks.com