The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-03-29

ed at the stake; Robert Emmet they killed under color of law; Lincoln they aSSasSinated and One. greatest and purest of all, they crucifiedi Would it not be a shame if the men of our gen. eratiOn should faint fail beneath the lighter burdens of to-day? Let us. too. have heart for a cause, whether it be a public duty or a private service. Let us gather inspiration from the message that William Ernest Henley, from his cripple's chair, had the cour- age to send forth to wavering hearts everywhere:
 "Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconQuerable soul. Beyond this place of wrath and tears. Looms up the horror of the shade; And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. "In the fell clutch of circumstances, have not winced nor cried aloud; Under the bludgeonings of chance,
 My head is bloody. but unbowed. 'It matters not how strait the gate. How charged with punishments the scroll;
 am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul" It was a. spirit like this which sus-
 
 across the untraverSed seas; for Co., lumbus, too, was a dreamer, and had the sublime patience to follow his dream to it's wondrous fulfllment. Had he wavered or turned back the torch of liberty which was lighted and lifted in the new world might have lain for centuries in the ignoble dust
 Nor are these lessons of courage, of sacrifice, of patience and of sublime faith taught us by individuals alone. Whole nations have been aroused by an idea. The three hundred at Ther- mopylae and the ten thousand at dust of ages. Freedom has had multitude of martyrs, Swiss, Poles. Boers-people of every faith and of every cline.
 Carlyle uttered a profound truth when he said: .'They wrong man great ly who say he is to be seduced by ease. Difficulty, abnegation, martyr dom, death are the allurements that act on the heart of man. Kindle the inner general life and you have a flame that burns up all lower considera- uonS."
 Here we are, a few in that great grave. paying our last tribute to those who have gone before and peering with curious eyes into the mists which cover them. ality of the dead shall we not gather some knowledge of the dignity of life, some courage to meet the problems of the day, some hope for the future? There are the proofs of religion; there are the words of philosophers, | and Of prophets, but I speak not of these Let each place his own inter pretat1on upon them. I speak merely | vine something that resides within it | of which we are not always conscious | about which we somt times have doubts. but which, dn times of stress, | always responds and which is as un- | doubted as our own heart-beats when | we care to listen for them.
 Like the life Of man, the record of | humanity discloses periods of depres- l periods of faith, courage and hope | Humanity thus gives us many mes | sage Which message shall we re- ceive? The one of despair, the one firm that save for the benefit of those | who are hurt and discouraged by it. | no philosophy is worthy of the atten- l ton and consideration necessary even has not within it the germ of immor- tad hope.
 Belief always precedes knowledge anc cannot think that one is alto Sether a man, much less a. sound | thinker and a safe leader, who is not willing to pardon something to the in stincts of the heart, and grant some thing to the wisdom of these instincts.
 
 her breast and he who has stood mute-lipped with pain and watched the heavy-hdded, pulseless sleep of Death, propounds strange queries to the Universe. At such times the soul puts forth it's queStionings like the white dove from the Ark. over the waste of the world, and brings back the answer of good cheer. To a mind not crushed, but rather made acute by pain. the simple, natural thingsspf life, such the flowers that the little children bring home in the spring. pos sess a strange significance.
 No man of imagination can note the changing seasons the perennial life of | the world, the starting buds of May and the tender shoots seeking the sun. or can gaze upon the dear delight of spring sweet face, without knowing that the parting in the winter of life Is not a parting for all fine We see but part of things. That which is hidden is greater than that which Is revealed Who familiar on1y with the sights of the day could guess the wonders Of the night? Hidden in the lays of the deceiving sun are Hesperus md all the host of Heaven Who 1nowS the secrets of the seas and skies; ard who is there in authority o deny to the human heart its right O courage and its right to hope?- You cannot put hope into the cruci- ,le. Neither can you test immortality here It cannot be that nature has rfcked us into life and love and striv- ng for no purpose save despair Neith- 1T are her ways so wasteftII and ilI rdered as to cut off, and consign to oblivion. the rare and useful works nd thoughts and visions of mighty ouls; that gathered experience which !, nd whose souls have been purged as v fire.
 Continued on Second Page) l.