The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-07-08
some leprosy. crying to God, "Un
clean. unclean.n

some leprosy. crying to God, "Un-
clean, unclean."
Let none shirk the duty, for all
alike are called to labor in behalf of
peace and civilization, and it is this in
spiration which marks the boundary
line between the statesman and dema.
gogue, the philanthropist and hypo-
critic. Your life or mine is but drop
of water to the mighty ocean of ma
tional, but both have our work great
or small that God intends none other
shall do; we must do it ourselves, or
through all eternity it remains un-
done.
Your lines may lie in easy places,
mine amid thorns and briars, but duty
done, it is all the same in the end.
The "Well done, good and faithful
servant" will bless us both.
Let us not deceive ourselves by a
blind fatalism, crying, "Oh, the coun-
try will take care of ITSELF" God only
helps those who help themselves.
''The price of liberty is eternal vigi.
lance"
The old Roman cried, "Roman for
ever" and yet the Appian Way of the
Eternal City" resounds no longer
with the shouts of freemen Once the
home of whatever was great and bril-
liant, sold at auction Ey her Praeto-
rian guard to the highest bidder, she
is now the seat of whatever is base and
ignoble in tuman nature. Once the
proud mistress of the Universe, she
speaks to the world only through
crumbling porticoes and moss grown
ruins.
Her once great rival, Carthage, per-
ished and leaves scarce vestige of her
ruins to remind us of that once nigh
ty sovereign of commerce. Greece,
the mother of arts and sciences, lies
PROSTATE under the cruel yoke of igno-
rance and barbarism. The slavish ten.
ant of the harem has succeeded the
Spartan mother, and serfs and slaves
people the land of Leonidas and Peri.
cles. Let us learn from the lesson of
the past. This is Gods school to teach
nations the way of wisdom.
TO THE YOUNG MEN.
Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen,
for overstepping my time; a word to
these young men and I am done. To.
morrow, you begin the real battle of
life. 1t is struggle in which, untir-
ing energy, self denial and persistent
application can alone win success.
No amount of genius will succeed like
hard work. The most successful men
are the hardest workers. I have a
friend who was born in the same
town and went to school with Edison.
This man has the genius of work him
self, and he says Edison is the hardest
student and worker that there is in the
world. He told me that when Edison
had some great idea praying upon his
mind and striving toburst forth in some
wonderful invention that he was like
man in a dream, thought of nothing
else, retired to his study or workshop,
where food and water were brought
from time to time, but were hardly
tasted, until he accomplished his work.
Sometimes days were spent in that
manner. The world sees the phono-
graph, the telephone and the electric
light, but it knows, nothing of the
days of toil and disappointment, ofthe
sleepless nights with their expenditure
of brain and nervous energy.
No laborer. dependent on daily toll
for bread, no convict within the walls
of your peniteutiary, tolls as do some
of the statesmen that | know in Wash
ington. I often look at Dingley or
"Old Joe Cannon" and wonder how
many hours day they have worked
all these long years to master all the
details of legislation and acquire their
vast fund of information. Real sue
cess, true greatness and happiness
mean life lived for something out
of ourselves, whose ideals are broader
than our petty ills and woes.
Through all the thronging marts of life,
Where men rush to and fro,
In battle scene or mortal strife,
Forever come and 60;
Some lag behind, some 60 astray,
Some lead the marching van,
Thank God! mid thousands on the way,
There's once in while Man.
"Among the countless millions Of the past,
Who swept like phantoms by,
Covered, beneath each rising blast,
And all forgotten lie,
A few loomed up like tall pine trees,
Bore every curse and ban,
To float some banner on the breeze,
There's once in o while Man.
Thousands in greedy haste for gain,
In painting after gold,
Wreck all at once noble name,
Their honesty is sold,
Here and there few stand firm,
From truth and right they never turn,
Shine like stars, over all the land,
There's one in while Man.
"Some bind their hearts with bands Of steel,
To piteous calls they never yield
Their money, love or pride;
But here is one and there is one,
With heart to give and plan.
Shines in the soul; warm as the sun,
There's once in while, Man.
A trembling cause 10 save the lost,
To lift, the most forlorn,
Wins from the crowd,
Who count the cost,
The ready sneer of scorn;
Just then, some noble Soul,