The greatest friend of capitalist and toiler, and the one who will yet bring them together in complete accord, was born one Christmas night while the curtains of heaven swung, stirred by the wings angelic.  Owner of all things—­all the continents, all worlds, and all the islands of light.  Capitalist of immensity, crossing over to our condition.  Coming into our world, not by gate of palace, but by door of barn.  Spending His first night amid the shepherds.  Gathering after around Him the fishermen to be His chief attendants.  With adze, and saw, and chisel, and ax, and in a carpenter-shop showing himself brother with the tradesmen.  Owner of all things, and yet on a hillock back of Jerusalem one day resigning everything for others, keeping not so much as a shekel to pay for His obsequies, by charity buried in the suburbs of a city that had cast Him out.  Before the cross of such a capitalist, and such a carpenter, all men can afford to shake hands and worship.  Here is the every man’s Christ.  None so high, but He was higher.  None so poor, but He was poorer.  At His feet the hostile extremes will yet renounce their animosities, and countenances which have glowered with the prejudices and revenge of centuries shall brighten with the smile of heaven as He commands:  “Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.”

DESPOTISM OF THE NEEDLE.

“So I returned, and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun:  and behold the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no comforter; and on the side of their oppressors there was power; but they had no comforter.”—­ECCLES. iv:  1.

Very long ago the needle was busy.  It was considered honorable for women to toil in olden time.  Alexander the Great stood in his palace showing garments made by his own mother.  The finest tapestries at Bayeux were made by the queen of William the Conqueror.  Augustus, the Emperor, would not wear any garments except those that were fashioned by some member of his royal family.  So let the toiler everywhere be respected!

The needle has slain more than the sword.  When the sewing-machine was invented some thought that invention would alleviate woman’s toil and put an end to the despotism of the needle.  But no; while the sewing-machine has been a great blessing to well-to-do families in many cases, it has added to the stab of the needle the crush of the wheel; and multitudes of women, notwithstanding the re-enforcement of the sewing-machines, can only make, work hard as they will, between two dollars and three dollars per week.