The Camden chronicle. (Camden, S.C.) 1888-1981, July 14, 1893, Image 1
GOD AND OUR NATIYB LAND.
Vox.
CAMDEN, S. C., FRIDAY, JULY 14, 1893. /
No. 14.
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Practices in
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Offleo
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tOLLBCTOS1
The
cm
TraosMcts
I
Deposit*
In ten at
p?r mbuib,
CI 3.
*n a Xoble
most
of
Eve
his
heart
was
in re
, and
which
The
from
warm
waa con
General,
more
to pay
of all
been
expres
are now
through
Gen.
i ft
llhat Cost th?*
;t Million -
:t Year ?
Tl!
July ?>. ? Cieni
oj>cne<l twlay
l>efore it Xo
ter claim to
1 by any e*lu
Thc Jay has
"L'uitural au?i
in Carolina.
m
ius celebration for
? nvxleru idea of
B. (Jlemson ought
natest institution of
thlaiui. Up to this
fcctua] cash has been
L ? ,, i
ant and equipment. j
? grand ?ite inagnifi
apleitfiid climate,
r plenty of money ?
jear ? a;id there is
Clem* m should not
*grieului!*al colleges,
the Citadel, the South
and the Women's
rolina ha? as splendid
educational establish
found.
opening exercises ot
Fur the past few
fkurents ami friends
up to tli is future
The beautiful
contained fifteen hun
morniiig. The ex
the nifwt entertaining
kSeateil on the stand were
Chairman Simp
Norris, I><>wen, Bradley,
annamaker, Orr, Tindal,
Johnstone, Hardin and
I). B. Johnson,
Training School; Pres
, of the Houth Carolina
Shell, Col. B.
Mr. Spratt, an eighty
farmer froai Clarendon
the members of the Col
in Simpson called on Presi
Irow, of the South Carolina
to open the exercises with
rho fervently prayed for the
Leasing upon Clemson.
an Simpsou then said that
ever was a time when he
to speak and could not do so
was that time. ? This is the
it day of my life. We have
completed our part of the work.
h do more, and we have selected
ienlty, we think, who will take up
>rk where we have left off. We
confidence in them. Mr. Simp-i
I introduced Governor Tilrnan, who
labored industriously and hard
: the College.
/.GOVERNOR TILMANS Sl'EECH.
^Governor Tilman was receiver! with
ise and made a brief but effective
:h. He said that his heart was
full to speak, and he was not pre
Ktfe<l to make a finished talk There
|*re some practical questions so closely
woven in my very fibre, that I must
ialk. My heart wells up in gratitude
to a gracious God for the opening of
this College and fruition of my heart's
desire and dreams. I want to talk to
jou both as governor and trustee.
The stewardship you entrusted to us,
ao far as the mere work of starting the
College is concerned, is about fiinished.
We intend to train the miuds of the
youth of this State. We intend that
they shall speak and write English
correctly. The placard on the
main building is to educate your
brain. In other buildings we expect
to instruct your laud. Further down
we expect to show you that farming
can be made profitable and pleasant.
! We intend to introduce you to science,
and let you see to work to place South
S Carolina ahead in agriculture as she
| aught to be. It has been too much
the custom of the past to teach theory
: and not practice. We have the brain
' and intelligence here, if we only
! develop it. W e have no use for Y aik.
? Irte brain. I do not want you to be
! lieve all tliis twaddle about Yankee
brain and money. I,et me burn it in
to your hearts and brain, your motto
j should be u Work!"
W e are ready to help you in every j
i way to get that training you have so j
long hoped for. We do not propose
to make auy one-sided, one-horse men
of you, but you must, work. It is
proper to pay due reverence to the
| name of Throe G. Clemson. Connect
ed only by marriage with the greatest
i of Carolina's statesmen, Clemson's
beneficence has placed iiim by the side
;of Calhoun's name. The Governor
paid a splendid tribute to Mr, Clemson.
Others expect to be here with you,
be continued, when the crops are
'gathered. By many ci you, I fear,
the boom is not properly appreciated.
The governor gave the young men
some good advice. We are going to
make you work,- and if they do not
we will replace them, j He then paid '
a tribute to the board, and said that
no bitterness had crept iato their de
liberations. No language will express
my appreciati >n of their executive |
committee. We have our sign board, j
and expect the professors to carry on
the work. If they do not we will j
! find ihose who will. You have a
grand institution; and yon muS use it
to your advantage. .
Upon the conclusion of his remarks
Governor Til man introduced President j
who channel his audience j
with a splendid address on " lhe Re
generation of South Carolina, the j
j South, the Nation and Humanity."
FKEslDJvST CKARi ilEAI>'8 ADDRESS.
Thdre is no more inspiring apecta- ]
; <le on earth than that of life wrestling I
with its foes. The bird rebuilding its j
storm-shattered nest, the spider recou
l structing its broken wef>, and even
the unfeeling, ter?{>est-tocu oak driv
ing deeper into the earth its uptora
roots elicit our admiration and incul
cate lessons worthy of imitation.
Special do human beings, struggling to
free themselves and to walk out into
the broad light of liberty, deserve the
sympathy and admiration of the brave
and magnanimous. It is not simply
in the hour of supreme and glorious
triumph that nations or individuals
deserve our admiration, but it is also
in the hour of darkness and defeat,
when the proud spirit, refusing to
cower-or whine, takes up once more
the load of life. No laurel-crowned
victor of the Olympic games, no
chieftain homeward turning from vic
torious battle ever deserved the hom
age due to him, who, though defeated,
re collects his latent strength and
marches once more into the conflict.
Germany was great when William I
led his victorious legious under the
triumphal arch of Napoleon I, hut far
greater was the Germany or Fichte,
which, though conquered by the Cor
sican, began to ponder the problem of
transforming, by the reconstruction of
her schools, that defeat into a grand
ami glorious victory. Ere the last
Frenchman had deserted the German
capita!,. her statesman and educators
had ou foot a plan for the foundation
ot a great national university, a uni
versity which was to permeate
all German life and thought,
and which is to-day world-wide iu
fame and influence. This was hero
ism, this was statesmanship.
Three hundred years ago the city of
Leyden was besieged by the Span
iards. For long ami weary months
the Dutch refused to yield, although
starvation stared them in the face.
So brave and heroic was the defence
ofl^eyden that when the Spaniards
were at last repulsed the States of
Holland granted to the city immuni
ty from taxation. Her citizens re
fused the offer, asking iustead for a
great school, a university, which for
two hundred years was the most fa
mous in Europe. That was heroism,
that was statesmanship!
For a thousand years France has
been a land rich in heroic deeds, in
song and story; but in all her marvel
lous history her fame has never shown
more resplendents than in that hour
of degradation and defeat, when the
whole nation arose as one man and
rolled off the incubus of her war debt
?a debt amounting to a thousand mil
lion dollars. It was then that her
statesman and educators, realizing
that it was the schools of Germany
"that conquered at Sedan, that F r*nce
had been defeated by Kant and Ficfrt,
by Goethe and Schiller, by Humb<gt
and Heimbolt, and by Gauss as M?1
as by Moltke and William I began
the work of national regeneration by
organizing a complete system of pub
lic instruction, beginning with the
humblest district school and running
up to her great national university.
That was heroism, that was statesman
ship. and France of to day is greater
than was France under the Empire.
But to return home.
The Northern army marching
homeward amid the beating of drums
and the waviug of victorious banners j
was a spectacle less grand than that
of the ragged and starviug veterans
of I^ee, who with sad and aching
hearts returned to their desolated fire
sides and disdaining to pine or whine
rebuilt their ruined homes, trans
formed blood-stained battle grounds
into waving fields of golden grain.
This was heroism; that heroism that
has ever distinguished the -people- ot
South Carolina; that heroism which
Hayne declared invincible; that hero
ism which shone resplendent upon
every page of the first seventy years
of Carolina's history: that heroism
that never paled during all the dark- I
ness and desolation of four long years j
of civil war; that heroism which when j
the war was over, "made bricks out j
of straw" and "spread splendor" amid .
the ruins of blackened homestead?;
that heroism that flashed out again in j
'??>, when a 1>and of Carolinians, j
as brave as the Spartans who guarded !
the gates of Thermopylae, .planted I
themselves in our State Capitol and j
drove from her legislative halls a
o-reedy herd of contemptible carpet- j
baggers and besotted slaves.
That was heroism, and Carolina j
after 1&76 was greater and grander j
than the Carolina of ante-bellum days. J
But the work of reconstruction and of
regeneration has not yet ended. Be
gin anew; ever anew should be the
watchword of a great people. As
long as we but sleep and eat, content
with our fathers' solution of the great
problems of life, so long is all progress
impossible. Human life is as barren
as Sahara of fruit. The generations
of men are, as old Homer puts it, like
the leaves of the trees which fall and
renew themselves without ameloration
or change. Hector returning home
from the tumult of battle to bid a last
farewell to Andromache, is to me the
most touching and inspiring picture
in ancient literature. Ikying aside
the lofty plume that grimly noded
from its horse hair crest. Hector, the
knightliest soul of all the Greeks,
took up his infant boy and dangliag
him in his arms, prayed thus to .Jove
and all the Gods: ' Jove and all ye
Gods, grant this my 9<>n, may be
better than his father was.*' May this,
my friends, be fhe prayer of ever)
true Carolinian whose iion shall join
our ranks. Grant that this, my son,
may l>e better than his father was, and
wheu lie returns from Clemson Col
lege, laden not with spoils of conquest,
| but rich in knowledge, m wisdom and
! in manly virtues*, may his mother's
heart rejoice.
j I am myself an optimist. I have
j no faith in those who pine and whine
fuflfHhe good old times long past, who
try lo reconstruct the past and bring
? back the life and times our fathers
lived and saw. It can never be done.
! We may remove mountains and stay
I the onward march of mighty rivers,
but we can never reconstruct a civiliza
tion that has forever departed. Let
me not be misunderstood. There was
much in the civilization of the old
South that mu3t win the admiration of
good men in all climes and times. Let
us cherish the good ancl forget the bad
in the life our fathers and grand
fathers lived. The manly mau and
the womanly woman, no matter under
what skies they dwell, must forever de
spise the man who, ignoring the
virtues, parades, the vices of their
fathers. The North can have no re
spect, the civilized world can have*no
respect, the coming generations can
have no respect for the man or woman
who, born aud bred beneath these
skies, is not proud to garland the
graves of our heroic d?ead.
Let us not blame the old men of
the South, who "sitting in the dis
mantled porches of their homes into
which dishonor has never entered, to
which discourtesy is a atranger," some
times look wistfully back, to the days
that are gone. Living, as they be- ]
lieve, in grosser and more material
civilization than th&t which their
hands were building, let them look
back with regretful longing to that
which Northern thrift and cunning
never briug ? that old-fashioned South
ern hospitality, generosity and cour
tesy. that chivalry which chose honor
rather than riches, which preferred
proverty to meanness
But we of a younger generation
must face the issues oil the present.. A
great work lies before the Southern
people. What we have already ac
complished is insignificant in compari
son with that which yet remains to be
done. Our vast forests, our exhaust
less mines, our fertile soil ofier untold
riches to those __who have the pluck
and the push and skill and brain^o
develop them. It is with us a ques
tion ol life and death ? we must con
quer or be conquered. Since the war
millions of dollars have gone from the
impoverished South to keep up pen- j
sioned soldiers at the North, millions 1
of dollars have been wrung from
down- trodden people of the South for
high protective tariffs, thus swelling
the already overflowing coffers of the
nabobs of the North.
To save ourselves from intellectual
and material bondage will require the
united effort of the most chivalrous
and the most magnanimous people on
the American Continent. There is
not a great magazine in the South;
there is not a great publishing house
in the Sftuth; there is not a great
university in the South that could for
one moment be compared with Yale
or Harvard or Michigan; there are no
great libraries in the South, no great
collection of paintings, no great gal
leries of sculpture. I say this not in
a spirit of depreciation, but if possible
to do something to arouse the people
of South Carolina to a sense of their
intellectual and material bondage.
It is high time for the Southern
people to assert themselves, to shake
off the dust and humiliation of defeat.
Never while the South suffers her his
tory be read through the distorted
spectacles of the historians at the
North, never while she is dependent
upon Northern periodicals for a hear
ing, never while she is compelled to
send her sons and daughters North
ward for a university education, never
while she puts into the hands of her
children histories written by men
without sympathy for her institutions,
never while she is compelled to go to
the North for skilled labor and to the
West for commodities that can better
be produced under her own skies aud
in her'own fields? never again while
she submits to this "can she wear the
lofty look of conscious independence?"
In the language of Prentiss: "Burn
ing shame shall set its seal upon her
brow, and when her proud sons go
forth to other lands they will cower
beneath the withering look of the
stranger."
Look abroad over this country and
see how lamentable is the condition of
the agricultural classes. It is a fact,
though the cause may be hard to find,
that agricultural life is at a discount.
Never before in the history of the
world has there been such an influx
from the country to the city as the
last twenty-five years have witnessed.
The great city iis becoming crowded,
the country depopulated. In our
early history, rural life had a fascina
tion for the American people. In
1840 one twelfth of our population
lived in cities of more than 8,000 in
habitants; in 1850 one-eighth, in 1860
one-sixth, in 1870 one-fiflh, in 1880
one-fourth, in 1 890, perhaps one-third
live in cities o: 8,000. It was not so
in the olden time. Washington, Jeffer
son, Calhoun and Clay, and the vast
majority of the great men in our early
history lived irom choice upon the
farm. Today it is not simply Sena
tors and Congressmen, the rich and
great, but all classes, high and low;
rich and poor and driven as by some
irresistible impulse to forsake the
farm. Energetic, brainy young men,
as soon as they reach their majority,
bidding adieu to their aged fathers
and mothers, forsake the peaceful pur
suits of the farm and plunge into the
maddening strife of city strife; some to
sail serenly upon the adventurous sea
of speculation, but the vast majority
to sink forever beneath its billows.
Well-to-do people, those who can live
without labor, renting their planta
tions or turning them over to negroes,
flock into the cities, and bringing up
their children in, idleness and indol
ence swell the constantly increasing
danger of onr city population. The
poorer classes, especially those who
are content with a merely animal
existence, forsake their <*.bins and
mortgaged homesteads and flock into
factories ? anywhere anywhere, to get
away from the farm.
What now are the causes of the sad
state into which7 agricultural pursuits
have fallen? There is no disguising
the fact ? I speak as a student of poli
tics and not as a partisan or polititi
can ?that the tide has been against
agricultural life. Speculation, gamb
liog, dealing in futures, controlling
the market by unlawful methods, theft
on a grand scaleT^rDbbery and rascality
have usurped the place of honeot gain.
In other days men looked with
wonder upon the couqueror as he re
turned laden with the spoils of foreign
conquests, but today the idols of the
people are the men who, ill 9 few
years, pile up colossal fortunes sur
passing the febled wealth of kings of
other days, who form grand combina
tions to contrd*the markets and thus
wring from the million laborers of the
land tributes such that no king in the
darkest days of feudalism would have
dared to levy! When our fathers,
with a heroism for which we should
be eternally grateful, declared that all
just government | derived its power
from the consent of the governed and
that the best Government is that
which confers the greatest good upon
the greatest number, little did they
dream that in less than a century
there would be i developed in tnis
country a despotism vastly more op
pressive than that against which they
rebelled. "Taxation without repre
sentation," they said, "was tyranny"
yet within a century after that declara
tion the Wall street kings were wring
ing tributes of millions and millions ot
dollars from the American people. It
is idle to talk of liberty and equality
wben one man owns 1-218 part of the
nation's wealth. The love of money
is preparing for us a despotism vastly
more oppressive than ever a Caesar or
Napoleon imposed. We are making
Mammon our god and the millionaire
our idol.
It, is well for us who live in the
New South to take heed to
ourselves. Not until the alien
aud clear-headed, but cold-hearted.
Speculators from the North came
Southward, stretching their net* for
the loaves and fishes, were the mass of
the Southern people in the race for
wealth. How times have changed?
We are trying to outstrip each other;
not in the noble virtues, the sweet
charities and refinements of social life,
the sacred claims of the fireside and
the home of patriotism and feligion,
but in the crazy greed for gaiu.
What means it when a distinguished
commencement orator tells the gradu
ating class? "Young men, put
money in your pockets. A
man with money is a king:
without a pigmy?" What means it
when men of wealth and not men of
brains are the mighty men in the
council chambers of the natioa?
What place is there among us for
letters, for art, for culture, for social
distinction, superb mental endow
ments, when the millionaire, the pat
ent medicine man; the maker of toilet
soaps, the railroad magnate, the grant
monopolists, are set high above the
poet, the painter, the sculptor, the
statesman, the teacher, the farmer.
God grant that the South, whose
every foot of soil is hallowed by the
blood of brave men ? here where na
ture has done her best, where skies, as
"soft as those of Italy, are hung in
beautiful transparency above, and
glory like a summer's dream floats
o'er the rich landscape" ? God grant
that this Old South,
"Rich in the memories of bygone years,
Long-glowing sunshine, genial South-wind's
sigh,
Wit, music, friendship ? all that life endears,
may keep forever from her territorv
the Eastern nabobs who bow at no
shrine save Mammon's; who would, if
they could, monopolize the very air,
bottle the sunshine and dew, corner
the rains that quench the thirst of
withering flowers, and, Midas like,
would turn to Mammon's mint the
golden robes of dying day. Well did
Virgil say: "Accursed craving for
gold, whatdoet thou not drive mortal
j breasts to do?" What has - Mammon
i ever done foT man? Corroding the
heart, drying up the fountains of affec
tion, eradicating the love of beauty, of
honor and truth, thou hast taught him
how to be cunning, to pilage, to plun
der and to slay, but thon hast not
given him one high and ennobling
thought; hast never incited him to one
unselfish . act, to one magnanimous
purpose. What does the world owe
to Crcesus, to Midas* to Crassus, or to
Gould? The men at whose serines
humanity worships, the intellectual
and material saviors of the race, the
poet, the artist, the teacher and the
missionary: the men who have joined
;
That countless choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In lives made bitter by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
; In deeds of dariag rectitude, in scorn
| For miserable aims that end in self.
J In thoughts sublime that pierce the nighi
like stars,
I And with their mild persistence urge men's
minds
j To vaster issues ?
' these men have never bowed at Mam
! mon's shrine.
Shakespeare, a Northern pro feasor
informs us, wrote his dramas not for
glory, not to make the world better,
but to put money into his pocket
Was, then, the Baird of Avon, the
"myriad-minded," "thousand-souled"
Shakespeare, that "sweet and gentle
spirit, beloved by all who knew him,"
a greedy, grasping, avaricious man?
Hear the words of Chas Lamb:
"Nothing can be more delightful than
to contemplate this wonderftil rfisn, in
the full vigor of his life and in the
full possession of his amazing faculties,
retiring from the scenes of his well
earned triumph to find in the seclu
sion of his native town tftat repose and
quietude, both of body and mind,
which is not to be looked for. in the
bustle of the world. And if he, whose
glory it was to fill the universe, and
whose pursuits were worthy of an im
mortal soul, could pant for retirement
in the meridian of his days, what ex
cuse have they who, in senectitude and
feebleness, continue to toil among the
mole hills of earth for a little perish
able gold, for which they have no use
when they have obtained it?"
The inordinate desire rapidly to be
come rich is sapping the very founda
tions of our rural life. It is this that
is putting the blight of death and de
cay upon agricultural pursuits. I
have travelled through our country
districts and I know that coarse and
selfish greed has put its curse upon the
life of even the poorest countrymen. I
have seen cabins placed upon the
naked hillside exposed to the
burning beat of summer and the
chilling * blasts ' of winter. Why
did that poor felllow fell those
magnificent oaks that stood like giant
sentinels around his lonely cabin?
Why no flowers in front of that hum
ble home? Why no vine above the
door with "grapes growing purple in
the kisses of the autumn sun?" It is
because he has no taste for the beauti
ful, because he puts a money-value on
everything. \
In this sunny Southland, where, tor
six months in the year, a family maf
almost live upog the produce of a
good garden, hundreds of farmers sel
dom see a vegetable upon their tables,
scarcely have any garden at all, and
why? Because when one can live on
"hog and homny" what is the use of
growing a garden? There is no money
in a garden. There hundreds of farm
ers, and well-to do farmers, who rare
ly see any books but almanacs and re
ports of Congress, sent to them by
some politician at the expense of the
Government; no periodicals, no boys'
and girls' paper. And why? Because
there is no money in these things.
They eat and sleep and toil; and toil
the whole day long. I have been my
self a farmer boy, aud I know that it
has its dark side as well as its bright
The loneliness, the monotomy, the
lack of genial companionship, o? social
and literary circles is making farm
life sad and dreary and repulsive. It
does not meet the craving of the hu
mau heart for companionship, for in
i tellectual and social life*
Is it any wonder theii that the ris
ing generations flee from the farm
as a house of bondage. Before the
war the case was different. The
planter gathered around him a colony
of slaves, j He kept open house. He
had leisure. He enjoyed the society
of friends and neigh tx)rs.
To the old Greeks, especially the
Athenian, the lonely farm house was
almost unknown. They lived in vil
lages and found unfailiug pleasure in
the society of friends. We must de
stroy the barreness and monotony
of country life. Our civilization will
be a failure as long as it ignores the
training of the intellect, the cultiva
tion of the heart. We must make
life on the farm more attractive, more
happy, more joyful, more intellectual. I
And how shall it be done? How 1
else but by educating the farmer, by
teaching him to Jove the beautiful, to 1
love books, to enioy the companion
ship of the choice spirits of other ages
and other climes, to revel in the glori
ous achievements of the past, to
quicken his interest in the great move
ments of our age, to apply to agri
cultural pursuits the discoveries of
science, the invention of art, to put
him in control of the mammoth forces
ot nature, to gave him better food and
better homes and better books and bet
ter schools.
The manufacturing power of the
world, it is said, is doubled by the aid
of machinery every seven years. Shall
these mighty forces move at the bid
ding of man to crush and enslave, in- j
stead of liberating and elevating him? j
Shall we not see that day of which the
poet sings:
'?The mighty sinewy powers that wait,
In earth and sea and air.
Shall tireless early toil and late
Our menial burdens l>ear.
Their iron feet still fleeter flee,
Our errands speed apace,
Till only art and science he
The helots of our race."
May Clemson College perform her
part in this great work. To give fre.*h
I impetus to agricultural pursuits, to
dignity labor, especially the most
healthful and independent of all labor,
labor on the farm and in the fields to
swell the number of real producers, of
j men who earn the bread they eat and
I the raiment wherewith they are cloth
ed. Such is the aim of Clemaon Col
lege. The professions, so-called, are
over-crowed. We have too many
lawyers, too many politicians, too
many middlemen, too many shop keep
ers ? in short, too many men trying to
eke out an existence by some other
method than that ot honest toil.
Whenever the masses become intelli
gent, whenever they comprehend their
own needs and know their own friends
j the day of the demagogue, of the
1 chariatan, of the swindler, of useless
middle men, of the millionaire, will be
forever at an end.
We shall bear no more talk of the
poor ignorant farmer. Ml tell you the
ipen who ought to be ibe lords of the
land; the salt ot the earth are the men,
who, out in the ope* country, under
God's blue canopy, earn their bread
by honest labor. The men who plan
ned this College are determined that
it shall be no mean affair. Every
thing has been laid out on a magnifi
centj%^ale. It is not to be over
ahadowed, as most similar schools
have been, by the State University.
It fa not to be turned into a purely
literary institution. Our boys are to
have a sound and complete training in
their mother tongue, aliall be taught
to wield the pen, and when necessary
to address a political assembly. In
the departments of mathematics, chem
istry, agriculture, physics, mechanics
they are to have instructions as com
plete as can be given anywhere in this
country. So that when young men
leave these halls they will have had
interlectual training of the highest
order; they will be prepared to stand
side by side with men in other profes
sions.
Some people tell us that this cannot
be done. It remains to be seen.
Agricultural colleges for the most |?.rt
have failed because they have been
mean affairs, the buildings have been
mean, equipment has been mean, the
support has been mean, students and
professors have been looked upon as
mean, and everything about them has
been mean If siich shall be the case
here great will be the disappointment
to thousands thoughout the State.
Once more. This College is not
antagonistic to any other educational
enterprise. We do not want the earth.
We are net so ambitious as to wish to
monopolize the higher education in this
State. There is room and work for us
all. With our State University,
which I hope soon to see placed upon
a more substantial basis, with the de
nominational colleges, to which the
State owes an everlasting debt of grati
tude for eaving a higher education at
a time when the halls of our State
University echored with voices of
emancipated slaves, with our institu
tion for the deaf and blind, which has
done so much to ameliorate the lot of
the unfortunate, with our numerous
private institutions and our hundreds
of public schools, with all good men
and wo nen who labor for the
public veal, we hope to join hand
to hanc , shoulder to shoulder, anc
with one grand, united effort lead the
people o: the old Palmetto State to
higer p! mes of thought and act on
May ours be a State famous for her
schools find scholars, her poets, her
historians, her novelists, her painters
her sculptors and above all, her happy'
contented, intelligent, harmonious peo
ple. May Clemson College fullfill the
expectations of her friends and foun
ders. May we who teach here never
betray the trust committed to our
care. May you, young men, seize the
golden opportunity offered to you, but
denied to your less fortunate brothere.
Here on the homestead of Calhoun
the purest if not the greatest Ameri
can statesman, here upon the soil hal
lowed by the footsteps of great men
gone to their reward, here where life
refreshing waters shoot sparkling from
everlasting hills, here beneath the
magnificent oaks that stand out like
giant sentinels bidding us stand firm
and true, here where fairest skies bend
above greenest fields, here where the
atmosphere is pure and bracing, away
from thfe din and strife and pestilence
of the great city, here in sight of these
soul- inspiring mountains, mar the
youth of South Caroliua, from gener
ation to generation, come to drink at
the pure fountain of knowledge, to im
bibe lessons of heroism, patriotism, of
homely virtues, of faith, fraternity and
equality.
I resident Craighead was given a
rousing applause upon the conclusion
of his address.
The audience was dismissed with
prayer by Dr Zi m merman ,of Pendleton.
The authorities at Clemson were
busy all day trying to matriculate
and j^Cord the young men who have
come here. The forces were busy un
til lale this evening, and up to that
; time 22* were recorded. There were,
| however, 24:> young men in line to
I day. 5 came in 011 the morning train
j and .*2 on the evening train, making
| the total arrivals 2*0. It is expected
J that by the close of the week there
will be .J00 students here.
The inquiry shows that fully half
I have to enter the preparatory de
partment, which indicates the wretch
ed condition of our public schools,
| and the desire of young men to get an
j education. A majority of the boys
; came here from the public schoo'ls
| throughout the State. The ages varv
j from 14 to 28, the average will be
about 17. Ihe boys have been di
vided into squads, and have already
gotten to work and are now under
I military discipline. The board of
I trustees, at a meeting this afternoon,
j decided to have- recitations on Satnr
, day the same as on other days.? A.
K. in The News and Courier.
Ill-metallisfx to Meet.
Washington, July 4.? Gen. A. J.
J Warner, president of the American
j Bi metallic league, to day issued a
call for the national convention of
j that league to meet in Chicago, August
j 1> to continue a? long as the conventon
I may direct. "All members of the
league are urged to attend, and all.
who are in favor of maintaining the
money of the constitution and opposed
to the establishment of a single gold
standard in the United States, with
out regard to party, are invited to at
j tend and participate in the delibera
j tions of the convention/'
ALIVE IN HER COFFIN.
Mm. Charles Boger wm Burled During Sut
pended Animation.
Washington, Pa., July 2.? A
case of suspended animation is re
ported from Mormon's, three miles
west of Whitehaven. The story is to
the effect that a young wife died nine
months after being wedded. Her hus
band became haunted with the belief
hat she ha 1 been buried alive. He
eventually lost his mind. To satisfy
him his friends re-opened the grave,
i and to their horror discovered that
his supposed hallucination was a ter
rible reality.
Your correspondent investigated the
matter today and found it to be sub
stantially correct The woman had v
been buried before uatural dissolution
had takeu place, and the husband be
came a raving miauiac. <
\ Morrison's is a farming village situ
ated on the western slope of Mount
Yeager. Charles Boger' s father, died
two years ago, leaving his son to take
care 6f the farm. The latter six
months later married Miss Catherine
Leader. A year went by and nothing
occurred to mar their existence ^intU
one day Mrs Boger was taken ill. She
went to bed and from it never arose. k
I)r James Willard, who had been
the woman's family physician for ?
years, was in attendance at her bed
side, and while it was not made
known to the husband he made several
tests to assure himself that dissolution
had actually taken place before he
was satisfied. /
Among those was the "diaphanous"
teat by holding the hand of the de- ?
ceased before a strong light There
was no scarlet color visible, and , every
thing went to show that death had
really set iu naturally. JL
A tier the burial of his wife the '
nhock which Boger had experienced
seemed to wear away gradually, until
one day some one came4 to him and *
told him that previous to their mar
riage Catherine had been subject to
periodic hysteria and that, there was a
grave passibility of her having
been buried alive.
A terrible thought that his wife
might possibly have been buried alive
haunted him night and day, ant
finally he became a raving maniac.
He believed that his wife had been \
taken irom him and stated again and
again that she was alive.
So Btrongly did he plead hit cause
that his friends were finally induced
to reopen the grave. Accordingly a
dozen of them went to the cerneterv,
accompanied by the demented hus
band. During the progress of the dig
ging of the grave he remained ? per
fectly quiet untiL the coffin was
reached. He then became excited
and could hardly be pacified Until the
lid was removed. The woman had
h?en buried alive, and all the evi
dences going to prove such a terrible
blunder were painfully apparent The
body was turned face downward. The
glass in the lid was broken. The
robes were torn to shreds, hair dif
heveled and Hesh torn, showing where
the woman had torn herself in the
frenzy upon discovering her awful
position. ? New York Herald;
A Man Fulls Thirty-nix ami in Picked
Up I)eful.
Petersburg, Va., July 5.? Chief
of Police Henderson Kaues met with
a shocking death tonight, about 9:30
o'clock. He was a member of Peters
burg I/xlge of Elks, which had their
meeting in a room on the top floor of
Wright building on Sycamore street.
The windows of this room are about
two feet above the skylight covering
the store of Julius Meyers & Son. '
The business of the lodge had been
concluded and some pleasantry was
being indulged in when Kanes, think
ing there was a solid roof, jumped out
of the window. He struck one of the
panes of the skylight and crushed
through it, falling into the store two
stories below, a distance of thirty-five
feet. In his descent he struck the
top of the shelving and fell upon a
counter, breaking the front of it off
and rolled on the floor.
He must have broken his neck, for
when the horrified members of the
lodge hurried down he gasped onee or
twice ami was dead. The affair gave
a terrible shock to the community in
which the unfortunate man was highly
respected and much beloved.
WILD CABLE CAR.
It Plow - Tliro?Kh and Wagon ? Do
ing Much Damage.
New York, July 5.? At 2:45
o'clock this afternoon a cable car
j became unmanageable on Broadway
| near the City Hall park, and started
on a rampage toward the battery,
j Thegripman was unable to release
the grip, and under the circumstances
| the brake l>ecame released. The grip ? !
< ar picked up a horse car on the track
ahead, tore it loose from the horses and
carried the ear along in iroot Near
St. Paul's churchyard on Broadway
thero \sasa blockade of horses and
| wagons, and a number of trucks were
standing on the road. The cable car
plowed straight through the blockade,
leaving behind it seven disabled horses
and five smashed wagons, when it
seen that nothing could stop
the runaway car somebody rushed to
the nearest telephone and notified the
Houston street power house. The ca?
ble wasstopi>ed immediately and tha
I ears came, to a standstill below Trinity
I Church. ' ' _ , ? >