The Newberry herald and news. (Newberry, S.C.) 1884-1903, September 27, 1893, Image 1
- em~
It
E'ert- Gli E9D
ESTABLISHED 18635. NIEWBERRY, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1893. PRICE $1.50 A YREAR
STENGTHENING OF CU.AACTE
An Address Delivered before the Alumni
Association of -Newberry Coliegv, New
brry, South Caroina, Tuesday,
June 13, 1893, by the Rev.
Bartow B. Itamage.
Mr. Prcsident and Felow- Grduat&s of
Newberry olleg:
Your very courteous and kiud in1vi
tation to address yot; on bis occasiot
was received with grateful recognition
of the honor conveyed, and I greatly
rejoice that I am permitted to be v itih
you to-day and renew those friendly
relations which separation has sus
pended for a number of years.
It is not my purpose to dwell upon
the changes, whether sad or happy
ones, which have come to us since I
last had the pleasufe of seeing you;
nor do I wish to carry you back into
the lecture rooms or study halls of our
old alma mater, nor even her play
grounds. Each of these has served its
tne and, left its impress upon our
lives. Rather would I have you recall
the face-that the serious and exacting
duties of life have begun-and not only
begun, but with many of us have con
tinued for some years past. This
thought makes an address of this kind
have, for me at least, a specially ten
der, serious and even tragic interest.
For whatr does it signify? This: We
who have at different times in years
gone by left the walls of Newberry
.College as graduatez, and commenced
the battle of life in earnest and for our
selves, meet together each recurring
eom'mencement to hear one of our
chosen fellow soldiers relate how this
Cftt battle of.life has gone with him.
ltells not of his separate conflicts
tid struggles:-of his faults and mis
takes-of his succe,ss and failures
but he takes a general review of all
and tries, after careful thought, to dis
cover and to reveal their true purporv
and real value. . If we ask him how
_,And-wien he has learned the lesson he
.*odld impart, he points,.as authority
and confirmation, to his achievements,
or, perchance, to his scars. For ereu
victors,as you know, often 1t.iraway
with them marks of their conflicts,
- wbich serve not ouly as signs of their
struggle, but also as proud tokens of
their conquest. The hardest battles
and the bravest battles fought or won
take p;ace in tbLe hearts of the children
~oren.
Therefore, to make an address of
this sort profitable, it Js well, I think,
to have it based upon sonie such evi
dence and authority as -this of which I
am speaking. and thus try to say
some(bing which may suggest, to
some of those who may listen, some
way or means of meeting and conquer
ing some of the difliculties encoun
tered in individual and national pro
gress; and so rise to a higher concep
tion and realization of luman life.
Lt t us, then, declare now a truce, as it
_eren ths great st-ruggle of life, and
S ~ietly doipi and thiik orr it all,
tfy to: prepare -ourselv,es to go
:forth again in- due time better fitted
fe itruggles.ad-equests.
Witb a deep sense of t be vast inipor
taJceeIfy- subject, and of the urgenta
need of it in life, and with the earnest
hope that it may prove helpful to some'
of you, I venture to speak to you to
day upon
SRENGTHENINC OF CHARACTER.
..ong-ages ago, alold legend runs,
there'ived a great King, whose dearest
wish~ was - that his son should. become
as renowned as himself. While the
boy- was still-an infan t, duty called his
father, the King, to the -battlelield in a
-distant. hand, from whence he might
ne-ver re~turn. The only instructions
.the father gave. to the mother in re
gard to the training oif their child was
this: '-Take him to yonder wood every
day, and let him try to turn over a
huge stone whicb you shall find there.
When he-has succeeded in doing this,
send-him to me." Faithful to.her
tIissi he mother took her boy to thbe
spot each day,.w here he played around
b'e huge stone, pressing his baby fin
gets upon its sides, and lightly passing
his dimpled arms over its base; and
when weary would fall asleep in its
-Hsadow.E Woeld those poor little
hands,so .small and -weak ever be
str.ong enough to move that heavy
-stone?' Wlfat long, long years of pa
t'ient toil it--must needs take to perform
.Yeas psse. Te.sones'eemied to
-grow firmer in the groundZ Green
moss covered its . broad surface, and
white daisies.peepued out timidly from
beneath its sheltering sides,
-The boy, older grown, ~b4gan to re
alige how arduous was his task. He
labored long hours through many
years, but .the stone remaiued firm
and~unmoved. But be continued to
labor, and strength camie gradually.
At last, one day, the stone was moved
- -.aonly a little, it is true, but it was
loosened-and then, with almost su
perhuman effort,he rolled it.back from
ita place.. What, think you, met his
sight? There in thbe spot where the stone
Jay so long, tbe son found his father's
sword and sandals. He knew then whby
the task was given him, atid rejoicing
- a the strength he had acquired, and
in all the glory of young manhood, he
iaved the great sword high in the air,
and with a glad heart started out to
Join his father in the war and to share
with him thehardships of the battle
Mld.
-SEach of us, my friends, meets with
-obstacles that must be overcome
bywge stones t bn must be rolied away
lfom our upward path. If we con
-yer, we add str.ength to our characters
and are enable a to- take our places on
th'ebattlefield of lite. Each conquest
we gain gives us greater strengtb, and
at, the same time furnishes us with
sword and sandals-the means of car
?rying on a struggle that is greater and
a requires more strer'gt bi;-that strength
w Nhich can come only through severe
discipline, hardship, patience, perse
~verance and toil. That is the only
--way to acquire this coveted strength.
Strength! What a wonderful word!
'tymologists tell us that the old He
brew writers had no less than twenty
fiv'e different words for our one En
glish equivalent-'strength." Every
-.posible shade of tmeaning was t hus
expressed, much of which is lost in
ohr single word.
The pritnitive meaning of the parent
verb is singularly suggestive, especially
when applied to that peculiar type of!
strength-wfiich is-"the glory of young
-men." Its ancient meaning is "to
pant"; just as one pants for breath
'henl' e:gerting every power in somie
-great contest. What a picture such a
m~eining brings to o;ur rind! A pic
tuire as of one whbo has set for himself
Sdiffieult task to per-form, requiring
every ounce of strength and pluck
within reach; wvho has brought into
play all his best energies; who is hon
estly and gloriously taxed to his ut
muost, and-whose breath comes qzuick
- nd fast as he bravely faces the issue
hefore -higzt determined to dare a'td to
do even to the fullest of his powers.
And& it contemplates somte sort of
victory to be won at the last. It is not
tinies. We choose our own founda
tion, select our own material, mark out
the site, and build to our own liking.
"Man is his own star, and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man
Comrr ands all light, all inifluer:ce, all fate:
Noth ing to him falls early, or too late.
Onr acts our angels are, or good or ill.
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."
Every thought we have, every feel
ing we experience, every act we per
form registers itself on the soul, and
has its inevitable influence on our
lives. Thus character is undergoing
constant change, for better or for worse,
and being elevated, or else degraded..
"There is no fault, or folly of my life,"
says Mr. Ruskin, "that does not rise
up against ne, and take away my joy,
and shorten my power of possession,
of sight, of understanding. And every
past effort of my life, every gleam of
rightness or good in it, is with me
now, to help me in my grasp of this art
and its vision." "Nothing can work
me damage but myself," said St. Ber
nard; "the harm that I sustain I carry
about with me; and I am never a real
sufferer but by my own fault." The
block of rough stone is before us, and
we, with hammer and chisel in hand,
are daily carving out our own destinies
with our own hands. Eacbr fresh
stroke adds to, or detracts from, the
beauty and.symmetry of the figure.
Mr. Lerves, in his I4ife of Goethe,
truly observes: "Instead of saying
that man is the creature of circum
stance, it would be nearer the mark to
say that man is the architect of cir
cumstance. It is character which
builds an existence out of circum
stance. Our strength is measured by
our plastic power. From the same
materials one man builds palaces, an
other hovels; one warehouses, another
villas. Bricks and mortar are mortarI
and bricks, until the architect can
make them something else. Thus it is
that in the same family, in the same
circumstances one man rears a stately
edifice, while his brother, vacillating
and incompetent, lives forever amid
ruins; the block of granite which was
an obstacle on the pathway of the
weak, becomes a stepping-stone on the
pathway of the strong."
The highest type of character can be
formed only by strenuous individual
effort. A noted writer on the subject
declares: "What is needed is constant
self-watchfulness, self-discipline, self
control. There may be much falter
ing, stumbling, and temporary defeat;
difficulties and temptations manifold
to be battled with, and overcome; but
if the spirit be strong, and the heart
be upright, no one need despair of ul
timate success. The very effort to ad
vance-to arrive at a higher standard
of character than we have reached-is
inspiring and iuvigorating; and even
though we may fall short of it, we
cannot fail to be improved by every
honest effort made in an upward di
rection. And with the light of great
examples to guide us-represeutatives
of humanity in its best forms-every
one is not only justified, but bound in
duty, to aim at reaching the highest
standard of charactor. Not to become
the richest in means, but in spirit; not
the greatest in worldly position, but in
.true honor; not the most intellectual,
but-the-most--virtuous;- not-rhe -most
powerful and influential, but the most
truthful, upright and honest."
Among all the contributory powers
or forces in the formation and devel
opment of character, education occu
pies a pre-eminent place. In fact, ed
ucation should have as its primary
and preponderating object the mould
ing and strengthening of individual
character. In its comprehensive scope,
it is concerned with leading out, train
ing, developing and directing all the
parts of our natures-body, mind, heart
and scul-each receiving its proper
care and attention and assigned to its
proper place in the vast system. But
if character, the foundation of all, be
neglected, the whole superstructure
falls. An education that does not pro
vide the means of developing and
thoroughly training any part of our
natures fails just so far to appreciate
and to realize its own high jpreroga
tive; and is in danger of making of a
man either a sophistical scholar, an
intellectual mountebank, a moral dii
letante, or else a "rogue in grain ye
neered with sanctimonious theory.''
An insufficient, or a superficial system
of education has a dwarfing effect upon
man's capacities and powers, and is
apt to result in producing physical
and moral liliputians, or else intellect
ual and spiritual egotists, whose empty
lives make sad blanks in the annals of
human achievements.
Christain education, under the guid
ance and control of Christian men, up
held and governed by Christian prin
ciples, is the only kind of education
whbich can meet all the requirements
of our natures, making them expand
evenly and systematically without ex
aggerating, or under-estimating the
true value and importance of any; and
which produces the highest and no
blest types of true manhood. It does
not concern itself solely with any one
part of ourselves, but aims at securing
the highest development of every part
of us-not the intellectual only, but
tbe physical, moral and spiritual, as
well.
A distinguished educator, in a recent
address on the tr'ue purpose of Chris
tian education, declared: "If there is
anything true in our religion it is this
-that the object of religion is not to
create some special department in our
human life-is not to put in some in
terest, some accomplishment--but to
make us realize that the object of a reli
gion is tbe development of a perfect
manhood; a manhood that shall be
deep, broad, complete in all its facul.
ties; not simply mental, not simply
physical, but also moral and spiritual
-a perfect manhood."
iBut the tributary sources of the vast
system of Christian education originate
further back than in the collega, or in
the preparatory school, or even in the
primary grade. It is in the home,
amid the family circle, around the
fireside, at the family altar-yes, even
in the- nursery itself-it is there we
must go to find the most important
because the first influences affecting
tbe forming and moulding of human
character. "The back-bone of charac
ter is laid at home," says Dr. Smiles,
"and whether the constitutional ten
dencies be good or bad, home influ
ences fan them into activity."
Education in its true sense does not
begin with the alphabet, but with the
mother's look, the father's nod, the
sister's gentleness, the brother's pa
tience. It begins with' flowers in
hands, birds' nests admired, but not
touched; with watching creeping ants
and humming bees; with pleasant
walks in shady lanes; with listening to
the sweet accents of Nature's myriad
voices as they first touch infant ears;
with holding childish converse with
some of Nature's works; with sympa
thizing with dumb animals in pain;
with stopping to hear the innocent
prattle or infantile lips; with thoughts
directed in kindly tones to deeds of
love, mercy, justice and virtue, These
things may appear insignificant to
those who nre older gown, but they
lie strength of dogged determination.
It i. tot mere brute force. It springs
rrow a higher source in our natures
iud rises to a greater height. It is the
itrength of him wbo pants to be a con
:ucror. And this is the peculiar glory
f young men. It is peculiar to young
manhood, just as the sun and the moon
and the stars have each a peculiar
dory. As childhood has its peculiar
,lory of innocence, and old age, re,
ereud dignity; so young manhood has
ror its special cbarm that strength
which is the panting of the earnest
sud resolute life to win the victory.
And panting for a victor's crown is a
aappy indication that the first step
bas been taken toward winning that
-rown. For it brings into earnest ac
ion all the powers of the intellect,
will and affections; it calls out all our
mergies. It writes its own story upon
.he very countenance,-and stirs the
;oul itself from its lowest depth., urg
ng us on from conquest to conquest,
:attling and struggling for all that is
trand and beautiful and noble in life.
For
'Have we not all amid life's petty strife
5nue pure ideal of a noble life that once
seemed possible?
Did we not bear the flutter of Its wings,
knd feel it near, and just within our reach
Et was-and vet we lost it in this daily jar
and fret,
And now live on in vague regret.
but still our place is kept and it will wait,
Ready for us to fill it, soon or late;
So star Is ever lozt we once have seen,
We alwavs may be what we might have
been.'
Aristotle was certainly right in his
lefinition of a thing, which, he says,
s not what it is-its actual, but what
t were to be-its ideal. And so man
ias been admirably defined as not
wbat he is actually, but what he is
.apable of becoming in realizing his
2ighest conceptions.
ReaLembering that the word charac
:er is of Greek oigin and signifies
!ither tWe letters of any writing or in
wcription, or the impression of a die or
;eal on a coin or wax, and metaphori
:ally, the qualities of our words and
kctions, Dr. Cunningham Geikie's defi
iftion of the word, as we use it, is most
iappy and striking. He defines char
icter as "the stamp and image of our
ninds or principles." "Not a word or
set," he continues, "nor even a look,
.seapes us but has our signet upon it;
Lad our lives, as a whole, are the coun
erpart of our thoughts, as the image is
)f the mould. In the aggregate they
nake up our Character, or Simula
,rum-our true Ghost, which walks
be earth, living, visible, and poten
ial, bota during our lives and long
fter. Men's spirits are embodied not
a flesh and blood only, but in their
;Yords and doings, as well."
It is a man's general character that
2as its influence on forming and shap
ag the destiny of others-his printi
>les of life, his personal habits, his in
iividual objects, his tastes and amuse
ents-in a word, his whole bearing
wd demeanor. Every man has a cer
:ain air or spirit about him which
argely determines the influence of his
Nhole life. It is not exactly what he
Knows, or what he says, or what he
Ioes; but it is that which is back of it
L1, and under it all-that which makes
iim what he is,-the same particular
erson always and everywhere. 'That
irbis character. It is the very essence
)f his life; it is the sum and substance
)f his allotted days; it is the residuum
>f his whole earthly career, after
aking away extraneous matter-it is
hat determines the shape and condi
ion of his life both here, and hereaf
er.
Character, like our bodies, grows im
perceptibly. The twig of this year is
:he bough of next. . Ir. takes its color
ng, like the clouds, from the light
iround it. Single acts may show char
ecter but they do not form it, although
~ome may impart to it a more lasting
mpetus than others. But it is of long
ad tedious growth and must develop
smidst many cou nteractinug influences
in life. For growth involves conquest
:ver opposing forces. The man's .face
is behind the youth's, but it requires
timne, t..nd age, and experience, and
trials, and lifficulties, and conquests
F.r its proper development. Says that
famous author, Prof. Drummond,
'Keep in the midst of life. Do not
isolate yourself. Be among men and
among thbings, and among troubles and
difticulties and obstacles. You remem
ber Goethe's words, 'Talent develops
itself in solitude; character, in the
stream of life.'" And againi: "Char
scter is to wear forever; w bo will won
der and grudge that it cannot be de
veloped in a day."
If human life could be expressed
artistic'ally, action would make the
foreground of the picture; character,
the b>ackground. For character gives
tone, expression, value, life to the pic
ture. Character permeates our exist
ence. It controls our being. It gives
the tru' standard of value to our lives.
It grows upon and affects the life of
every one with whom we come in con
tact. It controls armies; corrects
abuses; subdues kings; guides the des
tiny of nations and governs the world.
No matter how high-born, how
wealthy, how inte-llectual one may be,
if he has not character, he is not a true
man, but only the outer semiblance of
one-the shadow and not the sub
stance-the outer husk without thbe ker
iel. While, on the other hand, a man
af humiblest.origin, of the meanest at
ainments, of the poorest condition in
life, if he but have integrity of charac
ter, commands universal respect, and
wields a power greater and more far
reaching than that of any king or des
pot. The great question in regard to a
man is not, "What are his gifts? or,
What does he possess? but, Can ho be
trusted? "WVe may go to an intellect
ital man for instruction, and to a
wealthy man for money; we may ad
mire a man of genius, and prai3e his
talents, but the man we follow is the
man of character. It is, after all, the
heart and not the mind, or the purse
:hat runs the world. Burns's father
2ould not have given him better ad vice
than:
'He bade me act a manly part,
I bough I had ne'er a farthing.
For without an honest. manly heart,
\o ruan was worth regarding."
Onice, a certain magnificent orator
paid a visit to Epictetus to learn some
thing of the old Stoic's philosophy.
He met with a cool reception, because
Epictetus doubted his visitor's sincer
ity: "You will only criticize my
style," said the old Stoic, "not really
wishing to learn principles." "Well,
true. But if I attend to that sort of
thing," replied the orator, "I shall be a
mere patuper, like you, with no plate, 0r
equipage, or land." "I don't want
such things," replied Epictetus warm
ly, "amid besides you are poorer than]I
am, after all. Patron, or no patron,
what care I? You do care. I am
richer than you. I don't care what
('aesar thin ks of me. I flatter no one.
This is what I have instead of your
gold arid silver plate. You have sil
ven vessels, but earthenware princi
ples"
Man is not as miuch the creature, as
the creator of circumstances. In a tre
menidously solemn sense, we are the
arch itects o nour own frnes a nd des
are powerful forces when applied to a
human beins in the plastic age of
childhood. Mark how a child bears
himself towards his playmates, and
bow he treats the housebold pets
you will find there intimations of t he
character of the future man.
W'e do not duly appreciate the vast 1
possibilities of a human lire. We are
too apt to regard a truly great wan as
one who became such by sonie fortui
tous circumstance, in some mysterious
way, suddenly and without any effort
on his part, or on the part of others;
whereas, in truth, he has been mould
ed to that end; he has been prepared
for his work; otherwise he could not,
perform it. Life is, at every stage, a
grand and stupendous potentiality. Its
primordial powers are almost infinite.
But they are, for the most part, hiddei, J
and require earnest and constant labor
to be revealed, and thorough prepara- I
Lion to be fully realized. The great
poet, the illustrious statesman, the
learned jurist, the valiant general may <
now be digging in some field near at <
hand, or may come from the humble <
:ottage of your neighbor. Who can <
tell? It is said that ocrates saw in a
:ream a beautiful white swan fly from I
the altar of Venus ani coming towards
him finally lighted in his lap. It re
mained there only a few moments,then, i
ipreading its wings, the bird rose into I
the air and disappeared in the clear i
sky. The next day, while the philoso- E
pher was relating the dream to his i
pupils, Aristo came, leading his son E
Plato-by the hand. Socrates, fixing his <
syes upon the bright faced lad, survey- I
ng his broad, high forehead and look- I
ng into his wondrous deep and clear <
ye, suddenly exclaimed in rapture: i
'Behold the swan of my school!" From i
,hat day he took the boy into his I
chool and trained him with parental -
are and pride. The swan of the school I
became even greater than his teacher, E
tud has left the impress of his mind I
ipon the literature of the world. 9
In the last address which Daniel i
Webster delivered in Faneuil Hall, he g
ittered the following noble sentiments: <
"We seek to educate the people, we (
Yeek to improve men's moral and reli- i
gious condition. In short, we seek to I
work upon mind as well as matter, <
knd in working on mind it enlarges i
'he human intellect and the human t
beart. We know when we work upon I
materials immortal and imperishable, i
.hat they will bear the impress which i
we place upon them through endless ]
igts to come. If we work upon brass, i
Aime will efface it; if we rear temples, <
hey will crumble to the dust; but if
we work on men's immortal minds,
if we imbue them with high principles,
with the just fear of God and of their
rellow men, we engrave on those tab
lets something which no time can i
efface, but which will brighten and I
brighten to all eternity." .
In speaking of the defective educa- i
'ion of the youth of England, and in f
urging a more evenly balanced and I
thorough system, by which character i
might be moulded and stimulated, Mr. i
Ruskin thus cofitinues: " We once i
taught our youths to make Latin I
verses, and called them educated; now <
we teach them to leap and to row, to 1
bit-a-batt-with a bat, and call them i
educated. Can they plow, can they
sow, can they plant at the right time,
:>r build with a steady hand? Is it the
effort of their lives to be chaste, knight
ly, faithfil, holy in thought, lovely in i
word and deed? The strength and the
hope of England is in those who are so
striving."
Keeping good company and reading
good books are two most helpful stim
ulants and valuable guides and Incen
tives to character building. A man's
companions have a wonderful infu-1
ence upon his character; so much so,
that it is a sufficient explanation to the
world to say of any one who has com
mitted a crime, "he fell into bad com
pany." Thackeray wisely advises:
"Might I give counsel to any young1
man, I would say to him, try to fre
quent the company of your betters. In
books and in life, that is the most
wholesome society;-learn to admire1
rightly; the great pleasure of life is that.
Note what great men admired; they
admired great things; narrow spirits
admire basely and worship meanly."
Emerson truly says that it is natural
l'or us to believe in great men; actually
or ideally we live in their atmosphere.
We celebrate their birth-days; we
study their lives; we commemorate
their achievements. We name our
children for them; we call cities ana :
rivers by their names; we perpetuate1
their memory. The great men of the
world embody the great ideas of the
world. Thbeir biographies are the epit
omes of the world's history-their
characters the credit, the wealth and
the mainstay of their race. Biographies
of great, but especially of good men
are therefore particularly valuable as
guides in building up character, for
they furnish striking instances of what
can be accomplished by high aims,
steady purpose, earnest resolve and
constant labor. Great men have come
from every rank in life, many having
"glorified the lot of poverty by their
labors;" and all gained individual ex
celience by strenuous application and
earnest effort. Says a great writer,
"The genius of humanity is the real
subject whose biography is written in
our annals. No man, in all the pro.
cession of famous men, is reason, or
illumination, or that essence we were
looking for; but is an exhibition, in
some quarter, of new possibilities."
Men stand for ideas. Their character
and works illustrate principles. No
epoch in the world's history is without
its representative man. Every imipor
tant step in the world's progress has
been taken first by a man, then by the
nation. In every country, in every age
there are heroes. The mighty van
guards of the army of civilization ad
vance to the tread of a leader, and at
every critical point in their march for-]
ward, some man is left to identif.y the1
spot and to mark the progress. Thus
are great men not only monuments of
the world's achievements, and mark-1
ing stones along the way of its ad
vancemnent, but they are also inspira
tions to the human race. They must
of necessity be known, for, as Emerson
quaintly expresses it, "nature never
sends a great man into the planet,with
out confiding tha secret to another
soul." Says Dean Stanley, "it is the
delight of a well stored library that it
brings us into direct intercourse with1
the great characters of'the p.ast; and it
is a most useful corrective to confront
the subtle specilations of our zwn
brains with the great books which per
mit us to l'old comamunion with the
mighty dead, even more closely than
had we been their contemporaries.
'Surely,' once exclaimed Sir John
Herschel, 'if the worst of men were
snatched into Paradise for only half an
hour, he would come back tbe better
for it.' Surely, we should also be the
better, if, like Thomas the Rhymer, we
were snatched away--as we are in the
brighter moments of our intellectual
pursuits-into the fairy lands of the
poets of old. When we converse with
those 'who saw life steadily and saw
it whole,' we rise insensibly above
,urselves, and 'prop our souls in these
bad times' with an unfailing support." 1
NWe must all, in the end, come to the i
ame conclusion, that no man can <
build up our character for us; that each i
must do for himself. One of the first -
4teps in that direction is the recogni- 4
'ion of individual responsibility-a
ieep sense of what rests upon us-a 1
profound realization of the truth of
Whittier's words,
"The stern behests of duty,
The doom-books open thrown,
The heaven ye seek, the hell ye fear,
Are with yourselves alone."
It is this that makes life so solemn,
ind individual action so full of mean
ing.
The very soul of character is energy
)f will. Where it is, there is life; where
t is not, there is faintness, helplessness,
lespondency, stagnation. Says an old
?roverb, "the strong man and the
waterfall channel their own path."
l'he energetic man of noble spirit not
)nly wins a way for himself, but also
tarries others along with him; he be- i
tomes of necessity a leader. At a criti
tal moment every act of his is an in
!piration and exerts a power of attrac
ion which human nature cannot re
;ist. It is the torch of enthusiasm that
ets the whole world afire. Without it
2o great deed has ever been accom- 1
)lished; no great crisis controlled. It
s a live coal snatched from a burning
;oul, giving light and life to hearts that
tre cold and dead, and to men that
ileep and dream. It supplants the or
linary motives and ways of human ac- I
;ion, and forces them into subjection. t
[t is not misdirected physical power,
>r judgment untempered by zeal, or,
Lnimal spirits unchecked by sound
-eason-it is not impulse, sudden ca- t
)rice, or rank madness. It is the open- f
,ng of the flood-gates of the soul, the
)reaking down of human barriers, the
pirit within us asserting itself. This .
Divine energy of the human will is the t
tttempt to carry out into action high r
deals. It is the outward expression of c
Ln exalted purpose within. Character
.an not be strengthened by holding or
xpressing lofty opinions and exalted q
'iews. These are valuable only in so r
ar as they produce action. To en
ourage lofty sentiments that well up
nto the heart and call for action, an.d
hen to allow them to spend their own I
orce and to wither and die unripened
nto action, makes men weak, helpless
Lnd unstable. Words without deeds,
yrinciples without action, theories
without practice, thinking without t
loing, desiring without endeavoring,
-these are colorless, lifelesss pictures,
rain dreams, fond fancies, and tend to
)ry up the very fountain and source of
trength of character.
The man who would build up a strong, r
nanly character must first of all be im- 8
)ued with a noble spirit. He must
3ave an exalted purpose in view-high
deals to attain. He must have a deep 6
;enqe of the vast possibilities of human a
ife and of the solemn responsibilities
Lnd duties that rest upon him. He
must have strong determination and
nvincible moral courage. He must
.ave self-rliance-not a :contempt for
)thers and an exalted opinion Of self
:bat is fatal. But.he must humbly rely
2pon his own sincere convictions, and t
gently, yet firmly pursue his own I
,ourse of action. No man can accom- I
plish much in this world unless he has
itrong and positive convictions. He
must be tender and courteous, and yet
atrong and resolute. He must be I
iincere in all things. That was a
wise saying and true of St. Hilary:
'There is no need of a distance between
he heart and the mouth.'' He must
de truthful in all things at all times.
His word should be his bond even in]
the merest trifle. To give occasion for
loubt even once will require years of
reparation and perhaps can never be
Eully restored. He must be honest
leverely honest. A breath of suspicion
is as deadly as the adder's sting. He
must be pure; in mind, in speech and
in cond.uct. He must he prompt in
meeting his engagemsents, and diligent
in all his undertakings. He must be
thorough in all he does, and faithful to
every trust.
These are the principal elements of
sharacter that must be nourished and 1
ieveloped in dail.y life. He who
3herishes them, and is bright, earnest,
apen, manly, kind, full of cheerful
bopes, revere.nce for truth, love of good
ness, is a model for young ambition; a
fountain of good thoughts, a silent, in-i
sinuating, living stream nourishing the
roots and opening the buds of strong,
true, noble and magnificent manhood.
There has never been a time in the
history of this country when tbere was
greater need than at present of men of
sound and spotless character. The cry
ing demand of to-day is for strong, res
alute men of energet3 wills and un
flinching moral courage; men of manly
hearts, imbued with high purposes,
governed by sound principles, and
thoroughly alive to the great and
solemn responsibilities of the pre~sent
age. Not that men are worse now than
ever before. Such a pessimistic view is
unjust, un warranted and untrue. What
is meant is this: Modern progress andt
achievements bave been so wonderful
and rapid, the future is filled with pos
sibilities so bewildering to contemplate,
that the share allotted to the present <
generations, in working out the grand
destiny awaiting our nation, far ex
ieeds in value and importance any
part taken by our forefathers; and is 4
fraught with difficulties and dangers
never before experienced. The grand
inheritance of past ages is increased a
thousand fold by the rich gifts and
treasures of modern achievements. 4
And all these are placed into thbe handsf
af the living in sacred trust. Woe be
to the recreant and despoiler!
Life has been broadened and deep
aned in mneaning. Human standards,
bave been raised. Morality is more
respected. The Chrivtiau religion is noi
Longer regarded as a professional cloak,
but as the true inward life. Scholarship
is ripening. Talent of every kind is
ancouraged and more generally es- C
teemed, The world is advancing and (
improving in every way. But there is5
:langer lurking in all this wonderful
and perplexing progress. The athlete
may be trained too much, he can be
)vertrained. Calculation can be too i
31ose. The web can be spun too fine.t
And so progress can become too pro
gressive; civilization too refined. P-er
nanent national advancement is built
upon the deep and sure foundation of
true, manly character; not upon genius,
ciECit3, wealth, or prosperity. It is
necessary to regard not only a people's
material prosperity, but also their in- 1
tellectual. moral and spiritual im
provement, as well. Human progress,
to be true progress and lasting, must
be regular and uniform. There must
be unity of movement in every ad
vancement. Every part of the nature
af the individual must be considered
and nurtured, and trained, in order to
make the nation strong, national life
bealthy, and national progress pernma
nent and truly beneficial. And the
men to whom the world rightly looks
for guidance in such things are the
men of character. They make and con
trol the world's history, and uide the
lestiny of nations. Each individual,
:berefore, as a component part of the
3ation, must realize his own solemn
luties. In the immortal words of Ad
niral Nelson - to his English sailors,
America "expects every man to do his
luty."
You see it all rests at last upon the
3dividual. Each must learn to appre
liate the inestimable value of true
,haracter, and earnestly strive to
trengtben and mould and develop it
;o the fullest of his powers. It all de
)ends upon our own selves. We make
>ur own lives. We carve out our own
lestinies.
'Chisel In hand stood a sculptor boy,
With his marble block before him,
Lnd his face lit up with a smile of joy
As an angel-dream passed o'er him.
le carved the dream on that shapeless stone
With many a sharp incision;
?ith heaven's own light the sculptor shone
He had caught the angel-vision.
Sculptors of life are we, as we stand
With our soul uncarved before us,
Waiting the hour,when at God's command,
Our life dream passes o'er us.
f we carve it then on the yielding stone,
With many a sharp incision,
ts heavenly beauty shall be our own,
Our lives that angel vision."
SEIZED IN THE DISPENSARY.
T. 5, Revenue Raiders Capture Eight Bar
rels of Illicit Corn Liquor.
LThe State, 21st.]
It seems that Governor Tillman and
is dispensary law cannot keep clear of
he United States authorities.
It seems that yesterday several of
he revenue raiders who have been In
he city for some days on the lookout
or illicit liquor being shipped to this
ioint, went down Lc the dispensary
luring the morning and went through
he building, looking over the establish
nent. They came across eight barrels
,f corn liquor, which had arrived not
Dng ago, and quietly made a note of the
ueer stamps thereon. They took the
umber of the stamps, etc., and went
n their way. It did not take them
Dng to find out that the stamps had
L,t been placed on the barrels by the
hippers, that they had been used be
ore, and were therefore as illegal as if
here had been no stamps at all upon
be liquor.
Everything went along smootbly
intil about sundown when the raiders
eturned, made themselves known and
eized the illicit liquor-the eight bar
els. The liquor is still at the dispen
ary; it being impossible to remove it
,t that late hour. It will doubtless be
old along with the rest of the illicit
tuff seized here.
It was impossible last night to ascer
ain the name of the North Carolina
listillers who shipped the stuff to the
lispensary. Commissioner Traxler said
ie could not give the name of the firm
ill he could look over his books this
norning. Theseizure does not have any
egal effect upon the dispensary or the
ommissioner, as the only parties who
iave violated the United States revenue
aws are the shippers.
A SENSATION IN DARLINGTON.
[Special to News and Courier.]
DARLINGTON, S.. C., September 21.
)arlington seems to be headquarters
'or dispensary sensations, and today
Ldds another of some interest. Since
rudge Simonton's decision many par
,ies here, it is said, have been ordering
iquors from North Carolina. This
ifternoon consignments shipped to four
>arties here from Wadesboro were
seized by Constable Garrison The
eizures were made under instructions,
t is reported, and the liquors were
>laced in the hands of the sheriff,
where they new are. One of the par
ies whose liquor has been seized is a
riolent Tillmanite. For reasons gov
irning dispensary sales, he had been
-efused liquor at the dispensary, so he
>rdered it elsewhere. No further steps
iave been taken and this is the condi
ion of affairs at present..
10V. TILLMAN SEES A CIDE R BOTTLE.
CHARLESTON, S. C., September 20.
lovernor Tillnian during his recent
risit to this city played the role of a
w'hiskey spy. The Governor was at
he Charleston hotel, and sat at dinner
Lt a.table near a man from New York,
who was dining with a Charleston
riend. During the dinner the New
f'orker called for a wine card, but was
old by the waiter that the hotel fur
lished only cider. Cider was accord
ngly ordered, and it was served like
shampagne. The Governor saw what
le supposed was a direct violation of
he Dispensary law, and as soon as his
tinner was finished ordered the empty
ottle to be brought to him. The pro
>rietor of the hotel had the order
>beyed. Tbe Governor examined the
mipty cider botttle and went off crest
allen
Direct Route to the World's Fair.
'Richmond and Danville railroad
s selling.round trip tickets to Chicago
Lt very low rates, and will give you
hoice of routes via Knoxville and Cin
innati or Louisville; via Atlanta and
Thattanooga; via Richmond or Wash
ngton. Also, a very low rate ticket
ither going or returning via Niagara
'alls, withistop-over privileges. There
s nothing saved by going on excursio)n
rains, as same rate is charged on trains
if this kind as on regular trains of the
.ichmond and Danville railroad.
Three through passenger brains, each
vay, daily, good connections-quick
~st time to Chicago-only one night on
he road.
For rates, schedules or other infor
nation, call on or address any ticket
Lgent of the Richmond and Danville
ailroad, Chas. L. Hopkins, traveling
>assenger agent, Charlotte, N. C.
-To eradicate the poisons which pro
luce fever and ague, take Ayer's Ague
jaure. It cures without leaving any
njurious effect upon the system, and is
dhe only medicine in existence which
nay be considered an absolute anti
lote for malari&
BULLETS FOR LYNCHERS.
Roanoke Officials Protect a Negro Prisoner
-A Mob of 4,000 People Twice Attack
the Jail, Which is Defended Suc
cessfally by a Troop of
malitia.
[Special to the New York Press.1
ROANOKE, VA., September 20.-This
has been the mott exciting day and
night in the history of the young city
of Roanoke. An attempted murder
this morning led to an attack upon
the jail tonight by 4,000 men, who were
twice repulsed, in their efforts to get
possession of Robert Smith, a negro,
for the purpose of lynching him. Five
persons are known to be killed and at
least eleven are wounded, among the
latter being Mayor Henry S. Trout,
who was shot in the foot while directing
the defense of the prison.
Early this morning Mrs.- Henry
Bishop, wife of a respected farmer in
Botetourt, drove into the city with
vegetables to sell. A colored man went
up to her cart, and presented a note
purporting to be signed by a Miss
Hicks, requesting that Mrs. Bishop
bring some grapes to her house. The
man offered to pilot her, and took her
to a house on an unfrequented street,
where he said Miss Hicks lived.
When inside the door the man locked
it, and, drawing a razor, demanded of
Mrs. Bishop all the money she had.
She gave him $2, and as she handed
Dver the pocket-book plucked the ra
.or from the negro's hand. He then
knocked her down with a brick, beat
her senseless and left the place.
THE ASSAILANT CAUGHT.
Mrs. Bishop soon recovered con
sciousness and made her way out of
the place and related her story, It
spread like fire, and soon hundreds of
persons were searching for the would
be murderer. About a mile from the
city a party of men, headed by Detect
ive Baldwin, overtook a negro, who,
upon their approach, turned and ex
citedly remarked that he was not the
person who killed the old lady. He
was at once arrested and taken into the
city.
Mrs. Bishop was in the market and
several doctors were dressing her
wounds. A crowd of a thousand or
more people were around her.She iden
tified the negro, who gave his name as
Robert Smith, as her assailant. Bald
win had Smith on a horse with him
self, and there was a break for the
prisoner. The detective drew his re
volver and galloped away from the,
crowd with his man and landed him
at the jail. Mayor Trout and com
monwealth's Attorney Hardway ad
dressed the crowd, urging that the law
be allowed to take its course and prom
ising a speedy trial.
SOLDIERS FIRS ON THE MOP.
Their words had no effect. The
mob increased in numbers and as a
final resort three or four leaders were
arrested and placed in jail. This did
not put an end tc the lawless purpose
of the throng. The whole country was
aroused. Men came pouring in from
all quarters, and the officers seeing a
confiict was inevitable, ordered out the
RoanokeLight Infantry to guard the
jail. The Mayor, Commonwealth's
Attorney and Police Justice went in
side of the jail to await developments.
About 8 o'clock to-night a great,
howling mob marched down upon the
prison and demanded the surrender of
the jail, which was- refused. They
then rushed upon the guard and there
was an explosion as of dynamite. This
was followed by the crack of pistols in
the hands of the mob and a volley of
musketry from the soldiers. The mob
scattered in great disorder, while the
soldiers stood their groun d well. It is
said that two rnen were killed in this
attack and Mayor Trout was shot
through the foot.
In a short time the mob, re-enforced
by new arrivals, made another attack
with the same result; and they were so
badly whipped this time that it looked
as if they might not make another ef
fort to get the prisoner.
A 3fOB OF ONE THOUSAND INFURIATED
3MEN SIHOOT AND CRE3MATE THE
NEGRO.
ROANOKE, Va., Sept. 21.-A squad
of twenty men took the negro Tom
Smith from three policemen just before
.5 o'clock this morning and hanged him
to a hickory limb on Ninth avenue,
Southwest, in the residence section of
the city. They riddled the body with
bullets and left a placard on his body
reading: "This is Mayor Trout's friend."
A coroner's jury of business men was
summoned and viewed the body of the
negro and rendered the following ver
dict: "Death at the hands of unknown
men."
Thousands of people visited the scene
of the lynching between daylight and
8:50 o'clock when the body was cut
down. After the jury had completed
their work the body was placed in the
hands of officers who were unable to
keep back the mob.
Three hundred men tried to drag the
body through the streets of the town,
but Rev. Dr. Campbell of the First
Presbyterian Church, and Captain B.
Moorman with pleas and main strength
prevented them. Captai n Moor man
hired a wagon and had the body put in
it. It was then conveyed to the banks
of the Roanoke, about one mile from
the scene of the lynching. The dead
negro was dragged from the wagon by
a rope about two hundred yards away,
and burned in a pile of dry lumber.
The body was placed upon this heap
and more brushwood piled upon it,
leaving only the head bare. The whole
was then saturated with coal oil and
the match applied.
The body was consumed within an
hour. The cremation was witnessed
by several thousand people. The mob
threatened at one time to bury the
negro in Mayor Trout's yard.'
Threats of vengeance have been
openly made against Mayor Trout and
the militia for attempting to maintain
law. Capt. Bird commanding the mill
tia has left town. Mayor Trout bas also
disappeared, and President Bucknor of
the city council is acting mayor. Ex
citement is running very high now.
There is talk of the citizens holding an
indignation meeting, and it is rumored
on the streets that threats are being
made to burn the town unless eatisfac
tion of some sort is rendered.
Crowds throng the streets and all -
public places. There is an immene
crowd in front of Oakley & Woolwines
undertaker shop where seven of the
dead bodies lie.
The number reported dead last night
was exaggerated. It is now found that
only nine men are dead and thirty-nine
wounded.
The military claim that the mob was
repeately warned that there would be
shooting if they persisted in their ad
vance, but they received these wahning
with jeers, and finally replied with a
volly fired at Captain Bird who then
ordered his men to fire at the mob
which was battering down the doors of
the jail. Trouble is feared and every
effort is being made to calm the excited
crowd.
THE MAYOR LEFT THECITY.
LYNeHBURG, Va., Sept. 21.-Mayor
Trout of Roanoke, Va., arrived at 10:30
o'clock to night. He is suffering with a
painful wound in the foot and declined
to be interviewed.
A STRONG FEELING OF INDIGNATION
AGAINST THE AUTHORITIES.
ROANOKE, Va., September 22.-The
intense excitement of the citizens-over
the unfortunate occurrences of the past
three days has subsided and the city Is
now quiet. The acting mayor, B.. A.
Buckner, has entire control of the exe
cutive department of the city govern
ment, and the officers perform their
duties without any attempt atintimida
tion.
The last of the victims of the bloody
affair of Wednesday night, has been
buried, and the wounded, with, the ex
eeption of two, are doing well and will
recover. The coroner's jury Is making
a thorough investigation of theriot.
They will probably remain- In session
for a number of days. There is still a
strong feeling against the authorities -
and the military, but no demonstrations
are being made. The city is more quiet
to-night than usual.
ROANOKE'S INTREPID MAYoR.
RICHMOND, VA., S3ptember 23.
The Hon. H. S. Trout, mayor ofRoan
oke, arrived in the city last night, but
his presence here was unknown tntil
to-day, as he failed to register at the
hotel where he and his wife are stay
ing. He was called onby quite anum- 4
ber of newspaper reporters tod-ay, all of
whom were anxious for the fugitive -
mayor to talk about the Roanoke mob
affair, but he positively declined to
discuss the subject or make any state
ment for publication. Indeedhe would
not say anything concerning the length -
of time he proposed to remain in the --
city, when be expected to leave, or
where be intended going. He denied
an alleged interview sent out last night
from Lynch burg.
cLAM sHELLS AS MONEY.
Looks Very Much Like History Wants to
Repeat Itf..
Rather a strange statement to make,
but one which is, nevertheless, histori
cally true, that for the first fifty years
in this country, clam shells were used
for money. And w e had free coinage
in clam shells too; there was no Gov- -
ernment stamp upon them, but any
one could go to a clam bed, dig his
clams, live upon the edible portion,
and rub down the shells until they be
come round and smooth, when they - --
would become 'Wampum," and pass
for money. Originally in New York
six pieces of "Wampum," or Elam
shells were worth a Dutch "stiver," or
two cents, but when the Dutchmen in
the goodness of their hearts told the
Puritans of New England of their val
ue for trading purposes, the Puritans
made so much money, or "Wampum,"
that the value rapidly declined., until
twelve, fourteen or even sixteen pieces
were only worth a stiver. Then the
Dutch Government of New Amster
dam attempted to regulate the value
of the clam shell, and said six or eight
pieces should pass for a stiver, and
precipitated the first commercial panic
in America in 16.53, resulting in great
distress among the poor then living In
New Amsterdam. The Government
was finally compelled to accept the
commercial value as the actual value,
and thus the financial panic of 1653
became a matter of history. The value
of the clam shell gradually declined,
until it finally became refused as
money, but not until many complaints
are made in the church records of New
England, as late as 1730, of the chIpped
and worthless wampum, which was
put into collection boxes of the meet
ing houses on the Sabbath to pay the
minister. "One who runs may read."
Substitute in this little piece of history
tte word silver wherever clam shells
appears, put the Colorado miner in the
place of the New England Puritan, the
Government of today. stamping 65,
cents of silver, and making the people
take it for a dollar, and it reads like a,
chronicle of today.
The many truthful testimonials In
behalf of Hood's Sarsaparilla prove
that HOOD's CCRES, even when all.
others fail. Try it now.