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.5TARMSRED 1865* NEWBERRY, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 20,1894. PRICE $1.50 A YEAR MOWEI IN SPRINi Noeliew in Dress Goods ,50 to $1.50 Plain Dress Goods .12 to .60. China Silks .371 to $1.25. SwiveL Siks .65. Black Silks.50to$1.50 French Organdies .25 toA. FecFiguredwiss .16 ~40. White Dotted Swiss .20 to .40, White Organdies .25 to. .40. Indian Dimities .15 to Check Muslins 8o to All Wove Whallies .16 to .50. The above is the many atracu al urstore. Yes, that is the word and worth. of goods that must be order to convert them into casi A SWEEPINC IN A CLOTIIIG FRIl Suits, $11.50 to $14.00 for Suits, $15.50 to $18.50 for A lot of Cutaway suits, rea the lot to be closed at $10.00. Children's,Suitu fleAgs irrftfor 65. Shirts foi- $1.25, regular price Shirts for $1.50, regular price The aboveprices-mean cash tc My Shoe stock is always comi shoes cheaper than anyone.else. A BARGAIN SAL Oxfords worth from $1.65 to Si for $1.25. !@ When in ne( a call and I will always save you m Bei O.M. JAMIE SOI Neewberry, S. C SPRING and CLOT NOB: G001 EVER SOLD II Suits to Order a Spieciall Fit Gua> GkoksBROWN BWnnuOlo Stand~ R.CO.".S ~GO'OOS Cot#on E2hsRies 5e. Prh@eiaLinUHnS .5c too Bi.. BeskNrltsf5Oto 6tc Ginghams 5c to .12E Blak,atineS JEto.25 Colored Satines-.10 to .25. Gentemeri Kid Gloves ---al size and colors. Embroidered Hand kerchiefs '0 to .80. Chenille Table .overi .75 to $1.50. Fun-% line of Ladies, Misses and Childen's Hose. Laces, Laces--all the latst2iovelties inWhita Cream, Ecru and Black. a partiallist of ons to be found ash we must have. 5,000 converted into cash, and in I have this day made REDUOTION $10.00. uar price $13.00 - to $20.00; at N.Y.&Bost. $1.50 to $1.65. $1.65 to $2.25. every' one. lete and I will always sell you E IN OXFORDS. 25 for $1.50; from $1.35 to $1.50, dof anything in my line give me ~pectfully, Cheapest Clothing NEWBERRYI v. Measures Taken and 'antee. & SMITH. =OCEMWE ' CO AGAIN. A SEASON OF LITERARY AND iNTEL LECTUAL FEASTING. Five Sermons and Eloquent AddresseA What Is Truth? and The Main Purpose of Life Eloquently %nd Strongly Told -Nine Young Men Embark on Life's Journey--A Prooperous Year for Newberry College. The college commencement marks an important epoch in the lives of the young men who have finished their course. It is the starting point for their journey upon life's highway. It Is fraught with hopes and aspirations and possibilities to the young men who are leaving their alma mater to enter upon the stern realities, duties and possibilities of thedife that lies before them. Their years of study have been only years of preparation to fit them for the realities of life. They start out with words -of counsel and advice which if heeded will be useful to them in the battles that are to be fought. The commencement in Newberry College is one of especial interest to the people of Newberry, - for they have an abiding love for Newberry College. The past sessiont has been an eminently successful one. The graduating class this year numbers nine young men and the junior class eighteen. The other classes are also full, and in fact the en rollment Is the largest in seveial years. The Herald and News as is its cus tom gives up most of its space to the commencement exercises. The sermon and addresses which we publish make good reading, and they contain giany precious and important truths which it would do well for every one to read and ponder. They will prove helpful and eneouraging and elevating. Much more so than the political wrangles and harangues that we have been forced to feed -the people upon. Read them all. All the churches in town united .with the college on Sunday morning and attended - services in the opera. hquse. There was a large audience. present, pit and gallery being filled to :thieir utmost. The sermon to the graduatingelass was preached by Rev. F. V. N. Painter, of Roanoke College, Salem, Va. H. e delivered it without notes or mihuscript. it was a strong -afdd logical presentation of the Truth. It was listened to with the closest -at teition and made a good impression oq -the large- audience present. We give below thesermon in full' and we feel sure . it will be read with interest b. every one. Prof. Paintet is a schol arly -gentleman and is.,the author of several books that have had a large sale. The exercises were -conducted by Rev. Dr. Holland and' the - Scripture lesson read and prayer offered by Rev. S. T. Hallman, of Augusta, Ga. THE BACCALAUREATE SERMON. Aid.Pilate saith unto him; Whatis truth?. -Joh*n 18:38. With what, spirit did the Roman governor- ak this .question ?- When asked with a proper spirit, it Is one of the noblest questions that can be pro posed. Seeking to kn9w the truth is a natural impulse, upot. wh;ch the pro gress and elevation of our race depend. I implies dissatifaction with ignor ance and error. It shows a brave and earnest nat0re.. . But thit Pilate was not aLn ernest see-ker-after the truth is proved by the fact that he did not wait foa reply. It was Lord B'acon's idea and one. often kepeatedZthat Pilate was in a jesting'rhood. But if we con sider the circurnstances-biai position as judge and his desire to relea e Jesus because be found no' fault In h.--it is dicult to believe that he was in a temper for jesting. It seems more probable that he had become infected by the scepticism of Grecian~ philoso py; and looking upon the imnocent prisoner before. him as a young and atiable enthusiast, he asked "what is truth?" with'a tone of pity nd despair. He had lost faith in all but Ce material interests of life. It is perhaps noteworthy, that Jesus made no attempt t'o reply to the ques tion of the Rorhan governor. The.rea son of this silence must be sought, not in' any unwillingness on the part of Jesus to'teach,-but in sozZae disqualifi cation on the part of Pilate to receive instruction. A consideration of the nture of truth throws light on this point. Truth is conformity to fact, not only in material .things, but also in spiritual things. If the universe had an intelligent., personal Creator, from whom allithings visible and invisible have. emariated, then truth is of G*od, originating in his nature or creative acts, and partaking of his character. The highest truth pertains to things unseen, for 'they are eternal.- What ever truth Pilate may have been capa ble of receiving on the lower plane of material existence, he was not at this time in a condition to receive the higher spiritual truths which Jesus had come to communicate to the world. Whethe:- jesting or uttering despairing scepticism, he could neither discern or profit by the truth. And a ruler who could be frightened by the cries of an insane mob to give up an innocent prisoner to be nailed to a cross, did not pssess the integrity of character and tize heroic elements that must belong tot every worthy bearer of spiritual truth. No; Jesus chose far more wisely ir committing the treasures of his teaching to the poor nishermen, who in spite of their lowly station were earn est and strong in character, and who, hen the time carne, allowed them selves to be stoned - and crucifiod in their heroic devotion to the truth. ft is men of this character whom God .booes in every age to be his special messengers, prophets, apostles-the 6ly men-who are worthby to serve the sred cause of truth. - It will be helpful to inquire into some of the causes that prevent men from arriving at the truth in spiritual things. V by do men so often reject the exist ence of God, the moral government of the world, human responsibility, and al that these facts imply? The great ubderlying cause, as pointed out by Paul, is a certain infirmity or defect of bunan nature, by which its spiritual vision is obscured. "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for th-ey are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, be cause they are spiritually discerned." But apart from this general fact, which is everywhere present and operative, we may distinguish two other promi net causes that keep men from dis erning spiritual truth. The one be longs to the moral, the other to the intellectual side of our nature. The first is an evil life. The, will has a stronger influence upon our beliefs than is commonly understood; and within certain 'limits we may believe what we will, and disbelieve what we will. In the presence of an evil life, the truth about the existence-of; God, a future judgment, and human accountability ecmesm nwemema nd terrifying; and hence, in many cases, by a conscious or unconscious act of the will, the teachings of scepticism or infidelity are embraced. In this way, a profession of unbelief is often a confession of drunk enness, dishonesty and licentiousneds. Another far reaching cause of scepti eism and unbelief is an erroneous esti mate of the intellect as an organ for arriving at truth. By the intellect is meant the power to form conceptions,. frame judgments, and deduce conclu sions. It is not necessary to bring a "railing accusation" against this pow'er of the mind, which in its high degree of development is one of the distinctive glories of* man. Within its natural limitations, it is a safe and indispensa ble guide. The baleful effects of its ab sence are seen in our asylums. It is tbis power of the mind that difects'us in our ordinary labors, that organizes and controls the various institutions of Church and State, and that blesses our age with its mechanical and scientific progress. It occupies, as we shall see, an important place i- ascertaining re !igious truth. But the range of the intellect is not unlimited. It can not fully grasp the infinite, nor image to itself the invisible and et rna. It is when it essays this hopeless task, that its efforts become fatile, and land us in some form of unbelief. When it thus oversteps its bounds, it is possible, as Spencer has shown, to undermine all the ultimate ideas'of religion 'and sci ence, and to show that God, creation, time, spsce, cause and matter are in solvable problems. It is an -undue .re liance upon the operations of the intel lect in this higher region of knowledge that has given rise to the materialism and pantheism so prevalent in .our time. From a few great thinkers"Ud. original investigators, sometines meni of irreproachable character, this unbe lief trickles down through a crowd of unreasoning or imitative followers who welcome a system of teaching that ab solves them from the ; restraints of Chribtian truth. - In the presence of tbis scepticism and unbelief, are we able to,answer.Pilate's question, "What -is .truth?" Are we able to reach a reasotTable certainty in regard to those spiritual problems, which, if they were true, possess eternal significance for us! Can we be sure of the existence and character of God, of his moral government, and of the du ties of human dife? : It is not enough. in the face o;Lexisting unbeliefs-, and .of a restless.ivestigating age, to appeal only to the principle of authority, and. to say with the-Roman Catholic. "Be lieve the pope," and with the Protes tant, "Believe the Bible." We are; called upon, according to apostolic in junction, to give a reason for the faith that isdu us, and to establish, apart from the principle of authority, the fundamental truths of reli ion. This, it seems to me, may be one. It is only necessary to bring to bear upon the spiritual realm not one but' all the organs of knowledge which belong to the soul. While taken separately, any one faculty may be deemed insufficient, yet in their combined force they pre sent a weight of evidence that can hardly -be resisted, except by a -wilful determination to reject the truth. 1. The first orgar, of-truth-to-betmen tioned as applicable- to the spiritual real:n is an immediate intuitive power of the soul. This power is above and independent of argumentation, and be longs to-the emotional rather than to the intellectual side of our nature. It is a kind of immediate vision. While it exists to a greater or'less degree in every soul, its highest development is found only in' those whom we properly call the seers of our race. .Io these elect spirits, so delicately sensitive to truth, not only the divine existence; but also the divine presence in the world has been a reality. Thus, under the visaible forms of nature, Words worth discerned a spiritual presence that exalted his soul. In one of his most beautiful and charaeteristic pass ages, he tells us, "I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deepiy interfused, WVhose dwellhng is the light of setting.suns, And the round ocean and the hiving air, And the blue sky, and the mind of man,. A motion and a spirit that Impels All thinking things all objectsof all thought, *And rolls throug al thirigs." David was gifted with a similar over whelming sense of the divine presence. God seemed so nigh unto him that the Psalmist was fin'ed with amazement. This divine knowledge seemed too wonderful for him, and he exclaimed, "Wither shall I go from thy Spirit, and whit her shall I flee from thy pres ence? If I ascend up into heaven-, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of' the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea: even there thy hand shall lead me, and thy right hand shall guide me." While it is true that no all men have this Intui tive power highly deve!oped, yet most of us have it in such a degree as to accept readily as true the fact of the divine existence and divine presence in the world about us, when it is once announced to us. When the Scriptures come to us with the sublime declara tion that "in the beginning God created the heavens and the earthf' we readily accept it as a satisfying explanation of the existence of all things. When the apostle declares that "in God we live and move and have our being," we find the doctrine in perfect harmony wth the constitution of our minds, and we cling to it as a precious truth. And so with- the whole circle of related truth pertaining to the character and moral government of God. While they are objects of immediate discernment to only a few of our race-its great seers and teachers-yet when the truth is once made known to us, we naturally, readily, and intuitively accept' it. It is only by a process of falsa' reasoning or through .the bias of an evil' life that it is rejected. 2. A second organ of spiritual truth iji the soul is certain deep tendencies and longings. They are 'independent of reflection, and inhere in the very constitution of our nature. In lower animals we call this innate tendency and longing instinct. It is this power, as we all know, that impels and guides the bee in the construction of its ce!l, and the bird in its flight through the air. It is a remarkable fact that there: is always something in nature corre sponding to these natural impulses the impulse to build a comb presup posing the existence of honrey, and the impulse to fiy, the existence of air. We may accept it as a law ruuning through the universe that there is no deep ten dency or longibg in sentient creatures that does not point to a corresponding extern,al object. It is beyond question that there is in the soul a tendency to worship, and a longing for communion with God. It is a matter of conscious-: ness that such is the case. The exist nce of such tendencies and longi.ngs is.established by the general preva lence of worship. While in many cases this worship is associated with, reflection, its prevalence among all nations can be satisfactorily accounted for only on the ground of a deep innate tendncy of the hu mi.nbeart. If everv. natural tendency and longing, as we have seen, has a corresponding object, then there i a Being worthy of our worship-a Being far mightier than we, a Being of intelligence, goodness and love. Thus we are brought to a recognition of God as Le is revealed t.. us in the Old and New Testaments-a Being whose existence and charactef we cannot deny, without in some measbre disowning our own experience and nature. 3. As already indicated, the intellect or reasoning faculty, which is the chief organ of xnowledge in secular life, is also valid, within certain limits, in ascertaining religious and spiritual truth. It does not indeed give a saving knowledge, but it may lead us to an. apprehension of fundamental religious truth, upon which faith must rest. Along several lines of argument,.,some of them guite abstruse,.the reason leads us to a recognition of the divine exist ence and of the moral government,ofU the world, Of these arguments I men tion the two clearest and strongest We hdve within us a sense of -right and wrong. There is also an approving apd disapproving power,which we call. con science, It has a wide range from. mild reproach. to terrific scourgings. It is a jpwer9; voice independent ofour.wills, and oftn contrary to our .desires. Whence comes that moral distinctiop: with its powerful and independent sanctions? A satisfactory explanation is to be found only in the existence of a righteousLawgiver,who,as our Creator, has placed that feeling within our breasts as a witness for himself and for righteousness. But along apoth4r well known line, we reach substantmlly the same truth. As we look upon the visi ble universe, and as^w penetrate into, the-wonderful worki'g of its laws, .we discover a marvelous order and. beauty. There' is, upon the whole, an extraor dinary evidedtce of wisdom and design. The structure-of our minds and bodies, the distribution of land and water ou our globe, the change of season,aVd the.movements of.our.earth on itsaxis. and around the.sun, all exhibit' i' their wise adjustments, the intelligence and forethought of a personal Creator. It is irratiotial to believe that. all this' obviou& and marvelous adaptation-.(i means to ends. could have come from chance. . It is true, as the Psalmist de claied ages ago, that "the heavens de-. clare the'glory of God ani the" firma-. ment sbewetbhis bandiwork." Thus, by an exercise of the reasoning facul ti s in a legitimate way, we are led Jo the idea of% such an infinite, wise and beevolent Being as Is revealad to us inhbe Scriptures. It is a conclusion tat can not be resisted without a posi tive effort of the, will. 4. There is one more way by which we may arrive at a knowledge of spiritual truth. - It is by experience the most satisfactory of all methods. There is a self-evidencing powFr in spiritual truth. Its results upon .others as upon ourselves testify of its divine origin and effleacy. This is what our Saviour meant when he said, "If any man wiU do his will, he shall know of the drine, whether it be of God." Under the great law of sowing and reaping, of. cause and effect, falsehood tend.to.unha pplnes and death, while truth leads to -happinessand life. . If Pilate's. scepticism undermined his character so that he was willing to give up an innocent victim to a violent death, his unbelief stands condemned by this horrible result. If Paul's faith led him tf.righteousness and to an abounding love for his fellow-men, this result, so divine in its character, estab lishes the truth of his belief. And so in the world at large: if, in contrast with unbelief, the teachings of Christianity tend to elevate men-to make them appier and ,better-we may rest assured of its truth. But there is a deeper application of this principle the interior evidence, the witness of the Spirit, that comes . to each Individual as he obeys the truth. AlU other knowl edge of spiritual' truth partakes of -the character of mere intellectual assent or recognition; but this inner experience leads to a profound conviction of soul so that we can say with Paul, "Iknow whom I have believed."' Let a man, take the Uospel of Christ into his lIfe; let him experience the blessedness of sin forgiven; let him pass. through that revolution in his nature which turns him fromasin to righteons-. ness; let him feel: the blessedness of the divine presence in. its comforting and strength-giving power; let him enjoy. the sustaining power of the Christiau's hope;.let. him see life transfigured and glorified by the presence of the Chris tian temper and Christian virtues-let himn experience all this,. and he then knows, with the deepest conviction of which he is capable, that he is in . pos session of the truth of God. Young gentlemen of the graduating class, this brief discussion will serve to show, I trust, that scepticism and infi delity are not proofs of superior wisdom and cultpjre, as is sometimes assumed, but that they spring originally either from a corrupt life or from a perverted use .of the intellect. When all the organs of knowledge and truth in the soul are duly'considered, they lead us to the foundation principles upon which our Chlistianity reposes, and confirm its truth in the individual consciousness. Carry with you, then,: to the serious responsibilities and dai ties. of life the profound conviction that the truth, as far as it may be nec essary for human welfare, may be known, and tbat in its origin and character it is divine. This conviction will give you calmness in the midst of turmoil, steadfastness in the midst of uncertainty and vacillation, strength and courage in the midst of weakness 'and despair. The divine character of truth is a guaranty of its ultimate tri umph. . Behind it Is the infinite power of God. As the perfect embodiment of the highest truth, I point you to Jesus Christ, who said of himself, "I am the way, the truth and the life." This is his answer to Pilate's question; and in it is found, not only satisfaction for the deepest needs of the individual soul, but also a remedy for the evils of social life at large. Take your stand courageously on the Lord's side. 1n giving yourselves earnestly to the pro mulgation and defence of the truth,' no matter . in what sphere it may be, you raise your lives to the noblest plane, and impart to them a divine character. It is tbus you become cq workers wil b God-the highest destiny to which a human being ean be called; and here after, in the midst of the glories of the: life to be, you will rejoice at your part in the great temple of righteousness, when God shall have made "the pile complete." SUNDiAY NIGHT SERVICES. The opera house was again filled on Sunday night to hear the address to the students. The view from the ros trm- presented a lovely and beautiful scene. It was a charming picture. The exercises were conducted by Preqident Holland. Prayer was offered by Rev. 'M. M. K.inard, of Cok1mbia. The address was delivered by Mr. Geo. B. Cromer, of New berry, without manuscript. in his strong, impressive n forci ble style. The Herald and News feels fortunate in being able to present to its readers the full text of this most admirable address. It contains many important truths strongly and pointedly and forcibly put. The audience bung en chanted upon every word and period as it fell from the lips of the speaker. The earnestness and clearness .with which Mr. Cromer spoke captured and held his hearers in undivided attention as he poured forth in eloquent terms the powerful truths contained in this address. But we give the ad iress in full so that every one can judge for himself of its merits. FM. GEO. B. CROXER'S ADBRESS. YOUNG GENTLEMEN: No thoughtful person can lookupon a body of college students without reflecting upon the wonderful possibilities of the work in' which they are engaged. , Hereafter. when you.look back upon these days, you will.have a -bigher. appreciation of,their importance, but you will never estimate them at their full value. Aimidst the golden opportunities of-col lege life, -lurk peculiar and manifold -tempt4ious;- -temptations- of men and books and ideas; tethptations moral, social and intellectual; temptations of hew associations, new. companionships and new impulses. Whether the jour ney upon whieh you have entered ex tend over one score or four score.years, it will lead you in to no mor e important -fieldthan that which you are now tra versing. The college is but a training iround, a fitting school for the great university or life. The degrees con ferred upon the members of the. grad uating class are -but a testimonial that they have received a certain measure of that Irainin.wbich is necessary to fit them for effectual work -in the fu ture. And no matter what that' work is to be, the important period og your life is that, in ,hieb you are-merely getting ready to, do something.. When we.thinkof such me'ias Henry W..Grady we areinelined t6lament that they died so young,-presaturey, as ,we'say. But the maw'ohhassounded : a danper signal, or spoken some word that., was needed to-..unite. discori ant,-soeial or p6litical -elements, does not die prematurely.. The -swan sings, mad dies. The "voiceof'one crying in the- wilderness"; -mayfill%only a few brief hours. The important thing is the *years of preparation that have fitted it-to sound a true note that will I call men to , nobler purposes and A higber, ..liA The lowliesti and migbtiest .tnan that eve touched this.planet firsisbed the work of-.-bis.1 life in three years. But, while we art. told that be was about his fathers i business at the age of . twelve, he de voted thirty years to,tbe preparation that fitted him. for the work of three. Keeping is mind, then, the impor- t tantrutb, that the college is simply a fittiigsehool, what are you bere for? I If you are .,doing. your duty., you are gettibg ready- for something. What is . that. something? Two questions the I best-. sentiment. of the world will ask ' you after a while, if you get the atten- t tion .of the world at all. First, What t are you doing? Then, How are you f doing it? Look at tbe: work a man is doing. No Work that needs to be done t is aegrading. Mrs. Balcombe, walking out with Napoleon at St. Helena, shrunk away from certain servants C that were carrying boxes, and badethem .9 to stand back. The "Scamp Jupiter" I promptly said, -"Madame, respect the F burdens." Tben look at the manner in which the man is doing his work. 9 Given a work to do, the manner of its 1 performance -is everything. You are to , be tested b)y the touchstone of faithful- E ness, w bet ber over a few things or,over I many things. If you agree with me, that you are ere engaged in the important busi- ' ness of fitting yourselves for the per formance of some work, whether high * rhumble, let us study certain lines of thought sugges.ted by the following1 anecdote: "A lawyer advertised for a clerk. The next miorniog his office was rowded with applicants-all bright ~ and -many suitable. He bade them a wait until all should arrive, and then lI arranged them all in a row, and said ' e would tell them a story, DOte their comments, and judge from that whom ~ be would choose. 'A certain farmer,' ~ began the lawyer, 'was troubled with t a .red squirrel that got in throuarh aa ole in his barn and stole his seed corn. a He resolved to kill the squirrel at the irst opportunity. Seeing him go in at t thehbole one noon. he took his shotgun ~ and fired away., The first shot set the bar-on fire.' "''Did the barn burn?' said one of the by>ys. The lawyer, without answer. E catmnued,. - C "'And seeing the barn on fire, the ] farmer seized a pail of water and ran to put it out.'. "'*Did he put it out?' said another.' "'As he passed inside, t.be door shut to, and the barn was soon in flames. ~ When the hired girl rushed out with I rore water' "-Did they all burn up!' said another ' boy. The lawyer went on without ' answer: "'Then the old lady came out; and ~ all was noise and confusion, and every body was trying to put out the fire.' " 'Did any one burn up?' said anoth- 8 er. The lawyer said, 'There, that will C do, you have all shown great interest in the story.' "But observing one little bright-eyed ~ fellow in deep silence, he said, -Now, ] my little man, what have you to say?' E The little fellow blushed, grew uneasy, C and stammered out, 'I want to know 13 what became of that squirrel; that's ' what I want to know.' "'You'll do,' said the lawyer, 'you ~ are rmy man; vou have not been a switched off by "a confusion and barn 5 burning, and the hired girl and water- i pails. You have kept your eye on the C squirrel.' " Following Cbis plain suggestion, let us briefly consider THE PURSUIT O-F THE MAIN PURPoSE. The first thpught is, the importance a of sisgleness and steadfastness of aim. Any of you can recall instances in point, that show what can be accom plished by-the unwavering pursuit of a definite and fixed purpose. . See theinfant Hannibal at the altar swearing eternal hatred against the Romans. See him, grown to nian-s hoodi, mould a heterogeneous sol dierv into an invindible army. Teen see hlim for more than half a score of years drive the hot plowshare of war into the most fertile fields of Italy. 0O- study the example of Prescott, as, in the midst of partial blindness at-'e tenc ed with exquisite snffering he gropes his way through a mas's of1 records in a strange tongue, to find the material out of which to construct his incomparable histories.. Or the example of Audubon, the orbithologist, who, when he sees his 4 accumulated specimens, the work of fifteen tedious and perilous years, swept away in a few days, sets reso lutely to work to repair the loss. ] Or the example of~Kossuth, the Hun-1 garian pat,-iot a he lies in an aster-rr prison, and by his unaided efforts, ac quires a mastery of the English lan guage, in order that he may tell in that tongue the melancholy story of bis unhappy country. The man who awoke one morning to find himself famous, is the man, 0 may depend upon - it, who was doing something on the preceding day. The man who moves onward to assured success, is he who holds-his course with a sure foot, and steady hand, and clear eye. The man who revolutionizes a thought or a system of thinking, is the man who finds a work to be done, and does it; who hears a voice calling and aiswers it; who sees a hand beckon ing, and follows it. Charles Lamb says, rather extravagantly, thaV: Coleridge commanded thirty thetisand treatises but 'never finishedone. The hun ter who sets out' to .Atalk deer must not stop by thd wayside .to shoot sparrows, or' even to gather . Bowers, A distinguished artist exhibited a pain tinz of the Last Supper- An en thusiastic beholder exelaimed, "What a beattiful cupI" The indignaat artist dashed his paint brush across the- cup. In -that -picture, beautiful cups-must not divert the-mind or the eye from the great central figure. a * - But we need ' not pause longer to discuss this thought. It is one of the truisms that the world has put aside is needing no further discussior- He who would accomplish any great aim, must have the quality that enables men to stick. 'You may call it grit, or pluck, or tenacity, or perseveranee, or teadfastness; it is all one. And we ave the essence of the truth in the vulgar maxim: "Brag is a good dog, )ut Holdfast is a better." The important thought, to which I 3ave been leading you, the question hat Iwisir to press home upon your onsciences, And I trust that I have Four attevtiob, is, VHAT IS THE MAIN PVRPOSE OF LIFE? Is it the acquisition of 4nowledge? Zot one ol you thinks so, though yop re here-in pursuit of knowledge. On he contrary, every one of you feels' hat a college education, Is important iot as, an end,'but as a means. You ealize that knowledge is desirable be ause it is a power for the accomplish nent of ends that are unainable 0ithout it. Is the chief aim, as the insidious Iago xpresses it, tg "put money in thy >urse?" Knowledge is often sought becausi it ontributes to the .accumulation of 2oney. But money, like knowledge, smerely a power. It gives one'the ower to accomplish great good, or to vork great ruin. Money, likerknow dge, is utterly without conselence. he dollar that was on the dicers' table ast night, may be in the contribu ion box to-day. It is terribly incon 'enient to get on without money. lut when you speak of knowledge or 3oney or anything else as apower, you ieessarily say that It is not the end of ife, but that It is Important because it ontributes to the qtaiument of some bing more desira-e. . And there are hings "more to be desired than much ine gold." Are you in pursuit of literary or in ellectual distinction? This, too, whl- It has delights TfcXW ,wn, is of real and lasting importance nly in so far as it contributes to the ood of humanity. It may breathe the erfume of the violet, or' shed the oison of the deadly upas. Think of helley and Byron and our own mis uided Poe. ,Voltaire's intellectual enius moved the people of France as be moon moves the sea. Macaulay ay that "sof all the inteilectual wea ons that were ever wielded by man, be most terrible was the mockery of rotaire." But he exhausted the armo y.of his intellect against' the rock of bat Truth. The Truth lives. Voltaire leeps. Or is It your crowning purpose to sten to the woolngs of ambition,-to eek office, place and power? Those who attain to high office for be sake of offHee, and not because it nabes them to minister to the good of eir fellowmen, come to realize at ast, that the delights that seemed to be pples of paradise are apples of l3odom, )ead Sea fruit that shrivels to ashes on he lips. "Cromwell, I charge thee, [lng away ambition; by that sin fell be angels.!' "Let all the ends thou im'st at be thy country's, thy God's, nd trut'h's." Knowledge and money and intellec ual skill and wisely directed ambition re important, net because any or all f them can answer the true purpose of fe, but because they give the leverage ly. which we can lift ourselves to noble nds. After whom do men call their bildren? The beautiful Absalom, or )avid? Samuel, or the princely Saul? Vhen you were christened your moth r called you the name of some man in rhom she saw, or thought she baw, ner qualities than those of gold, and tigher attributes than those of mere ower. What then Is the main purpose of a risely directed life? Let me answer with n illustration and a contrast. Consider wo of the three great Thomases that bed lustre upon the times of Henry Thomas Wolsef, sprung from an oh eure parentage, rose by sheer force of vermastering. genius and ambition the highest positjon in the state, next lug himself, and to the highest ignity in the church, after the Pope. le dictated policies of State. His inniu ne was courted by royalty on, tbe ontinent. He surrounded himself with rincely wealth and magnificence. He rrowly fell shert of the -great goal of is ambition, the papacy itself. But he acrificesi principle to gratify ambitibn nd the unholy desires of a profligate monarch. And his ripe experience linds a adequateexpression in the language fthe great poet: This is the state of man: to-dy lhe pats forth ie tender leaves of hope, to-morroiw blossoms, .nd bears his blushing honors thick upon him; he third day comes a frost, a killing frost; nd-when he thinks, good easy man, full suey is greatness is a ripening,-nips his root, nd then he falls, as Ido. I have ventured ,ike little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 'his many summers in a sea of glory; ut far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride t length broke under me; and now has left me, Veary, and old with service, to the mercy if a rude stream, that must forever hide me." le "sounded all the depths and shoals >f honor." And then-what? Sitting smidst the ashes of his departed glory, ie wails: Had I but served my God with half the zeal served my king, he would not in mine age ave left me naked to mine enemies." Brought into notice by the, pa.tron age of Wolsef. was Thomas More fterwards Sir Thomas, the author of Jtopia. Here we have one of the lov ble characters of English history. A nan of high~ intellectual endowments, se rose to great eminence. As diplomat, atesman, man of letters, and Lord 3hancellor, he is alike admirable. But, ost to be admilred,-in the midst of enality and profligacy b'"kept him ielf unspotted from the world. Whem iis refusal to sacrifice principle to policy bxad thrown him into prison, an officer gha in th kingdom wa sent to visit him, and, if possible, entrap him Into maki,ng some declaration that colbe tortured into treason. Parliament hfad declared Henry the head of the chureb. To that Sir Th-imas could not assent. After.repeatva vizits, the officer gaid to him, "Sir 'Th-tas, you can assent-to the doctrine twaL the king is the head - of the c1ureh. It'is right that you should. Ptr'iament has declared it so by law." The answer was, "Suppose that Parliament should pass an act that God shall not be God. What then?" Holding.to-that consciousness of integrity, he went to the tower, and from the tower to the scaffold; be bared his innocent neck to the axe with gentle mirth, and with as calm-serenity as of one "that wraps the drapery of his couch about him and lies down to pleasant dreams." The great business of,lfe, isgetting ready to lay life down. The main pur pose of life is, ,haracter-building. -Many other things are iastly important; but they are incidental, and- merely con tribute to the main purpose. Other things pass; character endures. By character, I do not mean reputation. T''t is "but the guinaa's stamp;" it is the estimate that the world puts upon you. It is important, but it'may be mistaken. It will changeasyou change the point of view from which you loon at it. . rYour chara" r is what you are. It lb that which isleft after hypcrisy and pretence and hwmbuggery have been stripped from it. You may wear a mask. And for- a season you- may deceive th6 world and delude youself by appearances. - But the time will come, as the blossomsof winter whiten on you head, or thW/dews of death gather on your brow, when the point otview will be fixed and certain; when you will stand outside- yourself as -it were;and hold yourself at arm's length, and see your character as4t is. - What charaeter are you building? We are builders, all. In the eArlypart df this century Mrs. Shelley, the* wife of the poet, wbi under the Oersonal influence-of her husband and Byron. and Ander--the inspiration.-of certain. un*holesDme German fiction, wrote a veryremarka ble novel, entitled, "EfankenstVOtrtr the Modern Prometheus." lanken stein is a deroteeofscience, a studentof - chemistry and.Philosop6y. -Whileex, ploring the mysteries in 'islaato he discovers the hidden,a.sprnga He sets to work to-createa hunan being. He visits ebarnel-housesianL other places and gather. the'disu_np materials out of which he fslona the gigantie form of a man. Then,.Pro metheus like, he steals a: ty1t spark from the heaven of his scienc, and Infuses it into the lifeless form.- Ashis - soul hangs quivering-upon theexperi ment, he sees the creature moveand. breathe. Bat when h looks tpon the work of his skill, he is overwhelmed with horror and self-loathing. The man of his creating Is -a hideous mo ster that destroys all whd aretkst dear to its creator. And Frankenstein, afer devoting the rest of his life to-the-vain endeavor to overtake and destroy the creature of his own.skill and-p-wr, dies a victim of-remorse-anddespair Young genmen, -whether .con hg ngs a(if ebsssc-;~ curse us. The .young jan bo is building hiseharacter outof 4OW-J . s and selfish purosesand sensua delights may for a time - the exquisite sensatiqas of creative p'wer. But the day will inevitAbly come when he will be filled .with lig*, and loathing as the monster. that he .bau reated turns upon hini and rends him, and he is powerless to escape. - As you are crossing 'this brook Tat "flow hard by the throne of-(3" with what weapons are you~egalpih yourself for the conflict that wat you? The youthful Davidpaedn put into his scrip five smooth stones. He needed but one. The victr *aa assured by the unerrnng eye faith t.hat guided- that one. .And -the 'only Ariadne clue that can lead us with crtainty through this mysterious abyrinth that men call. lIfe,1s faith. Christian character. Som~e on a "0, ,now he is .preachIrig." ~ well. If you assert yourCbIta manhood, some thoughtless persops' will sneer at you, and a6me wiltl augh and others will rialcule. Let, me sug gest that,you meet all suhpesn with a sefitence from.-Sterns's Senti-A mental Journey: "As we passedsIopg the valley, a herd of asses stood~on a neighboring hill; how they viewed , ' reviewed use' Do not even answer fools according to their' folly. Met tneir sneers pass as the Idle winds, sag they will do' you 'io hurt. But-what aot him who dares to'-ridicule the Bible or to tamper with the .Chistaa character of a young man? "It we're - etter for him that a niflistone were banged abobt his nedk and that he was drowned in the det of the sea." - I appeal for positive Cristian man hood. Not negative Christians. Not - men who think that they have done well because they have done nothing at all. Net the "unco guld and rigidly righteous" who esteem the form but care nothing for the heart of things. Not goody-good, namby pamby Christians who have fed all their lives on skim mlik.( Not mor alists, those negative quantities. that tand on the moral code and eternally vex people with their "Thou shair. not," "Thou shalt .not," "Thon shalt not." But positive Christians, who follow "Thou shalt." Men who are not afraid to plant themselves.some where and stand for something;. men who, having tongues, dare to speak the truth that they profess to believe. Let me borrow some of your algebraic terms: Be a factor, that Is, a doer of something; and a coefficient, that Is, a worker together with somebody else - who is doing something; and an ex ponent, that is, a setter forth of the powers within that move you to the - highest good. W', look around us and see our coun try rent and torn with party strife, see'-. -- tional bitterness, and class distrust. The devil has scattered apples of dia cord broadcast throughodt the land. Families are divided and communities embittered. And It is not pessimism, to say that tbe seeds have been sown that threaten our country with serious peril. On every hand you hear men asking how the danger is to be met. Where shall we find the remedy that-will re store confidence and good will? Must" the minority submnit, or the majority miake concessions? Shall weseek men of ability and statesmanlike qualities, and elevate them to office? -Do we eed smart men? This country is aready laboring under the purse of smartness. Our leaders laek~ neither ntellect nor intellectusa.training. No, - the trouble is, that the country is reyed upon by designing demagogues of all political factions who have at heart neither the fear of God, nor the ood of the people. They stand, Absp. om-like, at the door to power and fawn upon the voter, and say, "See, thy mattels are good and right, but there CONTINUED' TO SECoND PAGE&