nd rich. Captain Tom sent James Travis to West Point and
Archie B. to Annapolis, and their records were worthy of their names.

And now, five years after the great fire, there might be seen in
Cottontown, besides two furnaces, whose blazing turrets lighted the
valley with Prosperity's torch--another cotton mill, erected by the
old Bishop.

Long and earnestly he thought on the subject before building the
mill. Indeed, he first prayed over it and then preached on the
subject, and this is the sermon he preached to his people the Sunday
before he began the erection of The Model Cotton Mill:

"Now, it's this way, my brethren: God made cotton for a mill. You
can't get aroun' that; and the mill is to give people wuck an' this
wuck is to clothe the worl'. That's all plain an' all good, because
it's from God. Man made the bad of it--child labor, and overwuck and
poor pay and the terrible everlastin' grind and foul air an' dirt an'
squaller an' death.

"The trouble with the worl' to-day is that it don't carry God into
business. Why should we not be kinder an' mo' liberal with each other
in business matters? We are unselfish in everything but business.
All social life is based on unselfishness. To charity we give of our
tears an' our money. For the welfare of mankind an' the advancement
of humanity you can always count us on the right side. Even to those
whose characters are rotten an' whose very shadows leave dark places
in life, we pass the courtesies of the hour or the palaverin'
compliments of the day. But let the struggler for the bread of life
come along and ask us to share our profits with him, let the dollar
be the thing involved an' business shrewdness the principle at stake,
an' then all charity is forgotten, every man for himse'f, an' the
chief aim of man seems to be to get mo' out of the trade than his
brother.

"Now the soul of trade is Selfishness, an' Charity never is invited
over her doorway.

"I have known men with tears in their eyes to give to the poor one
day an' rob them the nex' in usurious interest an' rent, as cheerful
as they gave the day befo'. I have known men to open their purses as
wide as the gates of hades for some church charity, an' then close
them the nex' day, in a business transaction, as they called it--with
some helpless debtor or unexperienced widder. The graveyard is full
of unselfish, devoted fathers an' husbands who worked themselves to
death for the comfort an' support of their ow