delivered before of the irginia b ilitary j...

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t luma.n Jluty. f AN ADDRESS

DELIVERED BEFORE

OF THE

" irginia B ilitary J nstitute, JULY 2, 1 71,

BY

PUBLISHED BY REQ,UEST OF THE SOCI~TY.

RI C HMOND: WHIG JOB OFFICE.

18 7 2.

Samford University Library

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I•••• To the young man about to descend into the struggling arena of the

World after the calm preparation of academic life, these are solemn queries that confront him on the threshold : What do I propose to do~ What is the desire of my heart~ How can I best effectuate that desire~ Upon the response to these queries largely depends success or failure, happiness or misery , honor or shame.

How vital, then, the necessity of pondering them well, deciding them calmly and wisely, and then of adhering to the conclusions reached with untiring patience and invincible energy.

Of course certain natural aptitudes of mind-mental tastes and habits of thought--greatly influence one's choice of a profession or pursuit in life; and family considerations enter frequently as an element in the selection. While talent and industry may achieve a good measure of success, into whatever channel of effort they may be turned, few can doubt that "congenial pursuits," as they are very well termed, must be best adapted to quicken the energies anu arouse all the latent powers of the mind. A certain zeal or enthusiasm is almost essential to the attainment of high excellence in anything, whether in physical sports and accomplishments, or in the highest efforts of the intellect. If, therefore, one meditating a career feel no prompting from his own inner nature, no instinctive impulse, to embrace a special pursuit, let him be wary what he attempts. A profession wrongly selected may pro,-e as great a source of unhappiness as a wrong selection in marriage. Whenever the time comes-as come it must--when it is disco,·ered that the heart is not in it, there must follow chilling disappointment that will benumb and paralyze, and produce careless indifrerence if not disgust. It is t rue, a good and steady nature may endure and struggle on, as is often the case in marriages of convenience, inay keep up appearances and reach respectable mediocrity, but never real happiness or the highest success.


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Th<·rcfore, young man, looking out upon life through the window of hope a111l expectation, look well ere you leap, and beware how you give your mi1Hl to any pursuit (or, permit me to acM, parenthetically, your hand to any fair maiden) un less your heart and soul go wi th it!

But whaten'r may he the pr ofession or occupation decided upon, it is only a ntean~ to an end, and the underlying question still remains, What i~ the clcsire of your heart~ That which all your toil and struggle •~ intended to obtain. What is your ideal of happiness in this world- the SlWWIWII bonum-the goal which you will strive to reach~

Though the objects of human desire are multitudinous, they may be reclnccrl to a few groups. 'fhey arc Sensual Pleasure, Wealth, R eputatioll, Glory and Power.

To thr young especially, in the fi rst flush of health and strength and boundin~ blood. the pleasures of sense are naturally powerfully entlcm~. ~or in lawful limits arc they to be despised and refrained from. Gocl has fillecl the world with luscious fruits and boundless varieties of appetizing foocl-" marriage is honorable unto all" -and we find no co111lcmnation in H oly Writ of "wine ''hich cheeretl1 God and man," ancl "hich thr Wi~e Man bids us gi,·e "to those that be of heavy heart." But C1•ntrmptihle indeed is the mere sensualist " whose God is his helly," ancl more despicable still the Yotary of grosser sensual appetite~. It surel:-, howeYer, is not necessary to insist on this point in arl1lres~ing gentlemen of liberal education , or to show the utter unworthiness of looking to sensual pleasures as the chief means of happi_ ness in life. l nclepcndcntly of the g reat central fact, that they are sins in the sight of nod, and condemned as vices by every code of morals in the riYili?.ctl worlcl, they are too Yain, too empty, too transitory, too stu·cly rctrihntlYC in the suffering they finally inflict upon their votar ies to he for a rational being a source of happiness. Well does the R oman satirist conclntlc the catalogue of ills that await the worn-out voluptuary-

"Pr•·tPrNl minitnu" gelido jam in corpore sanguis }'••bre calct ~ola; circwtl~ilit agmh\1' facto illorborum om no genus."

Uut pt·rhap" I ha ,·e dwelt too long upon this topic, eyen in addressing you11g men. :mel will <lismi:-:s it with the advice contained in a little epigram from the French, thus translat'?tl hy a great English author:

" O't>r crackling ice--o'er gulphs profound , 'Vith nimble glide the ~ka.tcr~ play;

O'!'r treacherous Pleasure's flow'ry ground, Thu~ hghUy skim a nd haste away."


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But Wealth , R iches, large Possessions ! I s not the pursuit of these -a legitimate object in life and their acr1uirement a rat~onal hasis of Happiness~ A legitimate object, to a certain extent. Yes ! A basis of true happiness. No !

P erhaps in no country in the world, and in no period of the world' s • history, has the pursuit of wealth enlisted more talent, energy and force of character, or its achievement commanded more admiration, re~pect and almost worship, than in the "United States, and at the present time.

And especially at the North, for at tho South mere wealth has never been so much prized, nor has it been sufficient, by itself, to command respect or secure high social position.

Now, I do not propose to inveigh in the common style of cant philo-;ophy against gold as "corroding dross," or, in the modern spirit of agrarian philanthropy, to declaim against wealth as " wrung from the toiling millions," as " robbed from the poor, " &c., &c. No man li\' ing has less sympathy than I have with such pseudo-philosophy and philanthropy. No one has a j uster appreciation of the legitimate inAucnce and relative power which property ought to possess, both ~ocially and politically, though socially it ought only to command it when united with other qualifications . Nor do I refuse a proper measure of adminLtion to the man who, by industry, energy, shrewd judgment and wise economy, succeeds in amassing a great for tune. H e is almost always a man of strong qualities of some sort, ancl force of character. And strength and force always command r espect . •

But candid observers must, we think, admit that, as a general rule, of course not without exceptions, the men who have built up immense fortunes from small beginnings haYe not usually been po~~essed of those great qualities, of either mind or heart, which would entitle them to high places in the esteem of the wise and good. Nor ha,·e they usually enjoyed, in a high degree, the regard and affection of their fellow-men.

The close and absorbing pursuit of gain is too apt to contract the mental powers by concentrating them upon a single object. having nothing elevating in itself ; while the habitual curbing of generous impulses and subordinating the whole nature to the one sole end-w>ttcyt ends to deaden the sensibilities and to narrow the soul. I t is not often you hear the epithet" whole-souled" applied to such men. Nor are they often sensitive as to what is said or thought of them.

Of course there are notable exceptions to all this, as shown in the history of many of the Merchant Princes and Bankers of both the Old


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World and the New. To allude only to the most recent instances, I might mention George Peabody and our own Corcoran as noble examples of unselfish wealth devoting itself to the furtherance of great public ends as well as Christian Charity.

That the pursuit of Wealth as the sole aim and object of life does not confer happiness, might be shown by the lives of many of the greatest millionaires that the world has ever seen.

Think you that those great Northern Capitalists, of whom we read so much, wi th their scores of millions, are happier than other men 1 Have we not heard how the accruing rents, uninvested though but for a few days, will harass the very soul at the thought of capital lying idle and unproductive ~ Do we not constantly read of the bitter feuds and strifes with mammoth corporations 1 Millions sunk (of course with the expectation of getting them back fourfold when competition is suppressed) in order to cripple or crush a hated rival1 Have we not been told of the incessant drudgery, the absolute slavery of mind and body~

But without appealing to individual examples, the reasoning a priori on the subject is sufficiently conclusive. The ceaseless fears, the constant suspicions, the mistrust even of the expression of natural affection, or the exhibition of social courtesy, as having some covert design upon the jealously guarded purse ; the close insight into the meanest phases of human character; the sleepless vigilance to prevent being robbed ; the keen staining to prevent being overreached ; the fretting cares and torturing anxieties attendant upon the amassing and the retaining of immense wealth, make it impossible to regard the possessor, in most cases, as a happy man.

"But unextinguished Avarice still remains, And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debtr-his mortgages of lands ; Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes. Unlocks his Gold and counts it t ill he d ies."

Ausonius, versifying the Sententice of the Seven Wise Men of Greece, has this line :

"Q.uis dives 1 Q.ui nil cupiat. Q.uisfanpur. A varus."

. He is rich who is satisfied, and he who is always grasping is always poor.

Strive then for " the glorious privilege of being independent," for to a generous nature nothing is so bitter as the bread of dependence ; but do not make Money either your goal or your God.


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I have expanded this topic because I sincerely believe that the too eager and exclusive pursuit of Wealth is the besetting sin of this country, and because I feel that such absorbing pursuit is damaging to the nobler nature of the individual as well as to the higher life of a people:

" Fast sinks the land to hastening llls a prey, Where Wealth accumulates and men decay."

. But let us pass to the consideration of higher aims as the object of effort in life. If wealth and sensual pleasure are unworthy of your nobler desires and aspirations, will not the pursuit and achievement of Reputat'on in your calling or profession worthily engage your efforts and confer the happiness which it is the instinct -of our nature to seek 1

An honorable ambition to excel and to attain reputation among our fellow-men, in any career in which we may embark, is certainly one of the strongest spurs to exertion, and not unworthy of the noblest natures. This nerves the young Lawyer, Physician or Engineer in his toilsome and laborious studies, and revives his flagging energies. To be con- · sidered "at the head of one's profession !" How much does it hold out ! Reputation, high social position, influence, respect, competence. How hard have men labored to reach these tempting prizes ! How much endured! What self-denial; what zeal; what weary days; what wakeful nights; what patient waiting; what hungry longing, until hope deferred has made the heart sick !

And when the triumph has come-the full measure of success been achieved ; when the income swells from nothing to something far beyond one's needs or desires; when, as Advocate, the Bench takes the law and the Jury the verdict from his lips, while the Bar and crowded forum are dazzled and carried away by his learning and eloquence; when, as Surgeon, he performs some wonderful operation with a nerve and delicacy showing " a lion's heart and lady's hand," while the first men in the profession look on with mingled admiration and despair; or, when as Physician, with a diagnosis akin to intuition he detects the subtle source of disease that is sapping life, and ere the silver cord is loosened rt-knits and strengthens it, and seems almost to bid the dead arise, while the wan-eyed mother, with trembling joy, watches the flickering life of her darling slowly stealing back, and sobs out the gratitude she cannot utter. Then indeed at such times one must feel that he has not labored in vain, and that he has received his reward.

But how often is the highest professional success marred and embittered by envy, jealousy, misrepresentation and detraction ! How often


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do Humbug and Charlatanry seem to triumph over Learning, Science and Skill ! How often do we see-

"Those who bo up themsel>es keep othPrs low; ThO$<' who be down thcmsch·es hold othE't"S hard: Nor ~utr~r tht>m to ri~l', nor greater grow, Dul every onl' cloth Hrive hi~ netgbbOr down LO throw.··

I have instanced only two of the leading professions, but all that I haYc said is applicable to others. The Engineer who, through sneers and doubt~. baffled by want of means, hampered by thick-skulled directors and incompetent contractors, at last pierces the lofty mountain range, or plants his piers securely in the current of the mighty river, or throws his balanced bridge across ~be wide-yawning gulph, has, too, his proud hour of triumph. But he, too, is not exempt from the carping criticisms-the studied depreciation of professional rivals. The world, moreoYer, soon looks with indifference upon his greatest works as science advances to more marvellous wonders, and at the close of a long career he fin<ls his best achievements are yearly eclipsed, and he who was celebrated at forty, at sixty is almost forgotten. The highest professional r eputation and success, therefore, cannot be relied upon to ensure happiness.

Ah, but some young enthusiast has brighter dreams, more glorious visions, far loftier desires than any we have yet considered ! Fame, Power. Glory, f'hine before him in the distance with dazzling effulgence and fill his very soul with a delicious intoxication ! H e will strike the golden harp of Song; he will pour out melodies which, if they do not rival Milton and Tennyson, may yet not rank immeasurably behind Bryant and Longfellow. H e will fix on the glowing canvass forms of beauty and grace, if not with the pencil of a Raphael or a Murillo, at least with the breadth of Washington Alston, or the masterly hand of Stuart, or the soft and shadowy touch of Sully. H e will mould the plastic clay and carve in enduring marble the creations of his genius, if not such as came forth from the studios of Canova or Thorwaldsen, at least something not unworthy of a countryman of Crawford and of Powers. Or he burns with the ambition in some future, happier state of the count ry :

" Tbc applause of listening SenatPs to command, The threat" ot pain and ruin to despise, To •catt••r plenty o·er a smiling land, And r••ad hif, history in a nation·s c.>yes."

He is fired at the thought that some day his name will be mentioned with the names of Clay, Webster and Calhoun. He will make himself


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master of the history of pa.rties and of all the great political questions that have agitated the land. lie will study the Diplomacy of modern times, from the peace of Westphalia to the treaty of Washington, and fit himself for the post of ambassador at one of the great European Courts. Ilis name shall be inscribed indelibly on the history of his times and will live forever in the annals of his country. Or he will make himself a name . as a profound Scholar or Philosopher, not unworthy to be associated with the great German masters of Language and Thought. Or with passionate devotion to the study of Science and Nature in her endless forms, from immense observation and patient logical induction he will share the renown of an Agazzis or a 1\Iaury.

Bright Dreams! Glorious Dreams ! Who does not envy Youth its capacity for dreaming them 1 Which of us, woulcl not wish to dream such dreams again? "Cloud Land-Gorgeous Land!" But, oh, too soon do your visions fade away and achievement prove but the bitter mockery of anticipation ! And even suppose that a large measure of success should crown one's efforts in the highest realms of thought and intellect, and the coveted goal of Fame and Power and Glory be attained, how often the crown seems to wither ere it has well encircled the brow, and the fruit turn to ashes on the lips! Run through the bright catalogue of the greatest P oets, Artists, Orators, Statesmen, Scholars and Philosophers of Ancient and of 1\Iodern times. Ilow many could you select as men made happy by the glory they had won ? H ow many have lived and died in 'rrctchedncss, and only in faith have seen the posthumous renown that awaited their memories. How many, to borrow the caustic sarcasm of another, have "asked for brc::t(l :tnd received a stone-erected after they were dead to their honor arHl-the glory of the erectors." 1'ime would fail me to point out eYen the more striking examples. They are familiar to us all. J U\·ena.l, in his Tenth Satire, and Dr. Johnson, in his celebrated imitation of it-" TheY anity of Iluman Wishes "-have embalmed in immortal ,·erse some of the most memorable instances, Ancient and Modern. What school-boy does

not recall : "I, clemens, ets:teYas cnrre per Alpet<

Ut pueris pl:tce:ts et decl:tmati:t fins."

and its application in the imitation to Swedish Charles" :

"liE' lt•ft tht• name :tt which the world ~-:rew p:tle, T o point :t moral, or adorn :t t:tlo."

And we cannot read these two remarkable productions of human ge-


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nius without reflecting that the great Roman poet was exiled in his old age* and died soon after in consequence, for lashing vice too freely, and that the great English Lexicographer, Scholar, Essayist and Philosopher, though pensioned and courted, bowed down to as "Literary Dictator," and reYerenced as " the great Moralist," for many years before he died, yet lived all his life the victim of a profound melancholy that often plunged him into the depths of misery.

Perhaps I ma,y be pardoned for giving here, at some length, a further illustration, and one possibly not so familiar to you all. The description given us by Gibbon of the grandeur, pow-er and magnificence of Abdalrahman, one of the Saracen rulers rn Spain, rea.ds more like an extract from Arabian Nights tha.n a sober record of history. Yet such is the careful examination and citation of authorities, and such the accuracy and impartiality of the historian of the Decline and Fall (always excepting matters in which the doctrines of Christianity are concerned) that we may accept the account quite as readily as most facts in ancient history.

It was at Zehra, three miles from Cordova, that Abdalrahman ex- . pended over fifteen million of dollars and the labor of twenty-five years in constructing his favorite palace and gardens. The most famous architects and sculptors of the age were employed. The buildings were adorned by twelve hundred columns of Spanish and African, of Greek and Italian marble. The audience hall was encrusted with gold and pearls. His body-guard consisted of twelve thousand horsemen, their belts and scymitars studded with gold.

"Our imagination," says Gibbon, "is dazzled by the splendid picture, and whatever may be the cool dictates of reason, there are few among us who would obstinately refuse a trial of the comforts and the cares of such wealth and royalty. It may, therefore, be of some use to borrow the experience of the same Abdalrahman, whose magnificence has perhaps excited our admiration and envy, and to transcribe an authentic memori11l which was found in the closet of the deceased monarch ' I have now reigned above fifty years in victory or in peace ; beloved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies and respected by my allies. Riches and honors, power and pleasure, have waited on my call, nor does any earthly blessing appear to have been wanting to my felicity. In this situation I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot. They amount to fourteen. 0, man, place not thy confidence in this present world I'"


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Everywhere and always we see surgit arnari aliquid!

Behold of what delusive worth The bubbles we pursue on earth,

The shapes we chase: Amid a world of treachery They va.nl$h ere death shuts the eye,

And leave no trace.

Our lives are rivers, gliding free To that unfathomed, boundless sea<,

The silent grave, Thither au earthly pomp and boast Roll, to be swallowed up and los t

In one dark wave.

Thither the mighty torrents stray, Thither the brook pursues its way

And tinkling rill. There all a.re eqtUI. Side by side The poor man and the son of pride

Lie calm and still.

What then, you are beginning to ask, would I teach~ Is all my philosophy summed up in the mournful formula of the Preacher- Vanitas vanitatum? Is there nothing that we can honorably strive afternothing worthy of the highest devotion of our time and energies~ We admit, you will say, that pleasure as the object in life and chief means of happiness is beneath serious consideration, and that the mere accumulation of money for its own sake, not as a means to higher ends, but as the one sole absorbing end itself, does not seem to us-Americans though we be-worthy of a life-long and exclusive dedication of heart and mind. But if professional distinction or success in whatever may be our vocation in life ; still more if the earnest striving and yearning of the soul after the highest ideals of thought, the embodiment of the grandest conceptions of the imagination, the exercise of the highest qualities of judgment, reason and eloquence, are all of no avail as a means of happiness, what would you have us do 1 And what lesson beyond the emptiness of all earthly things do you teach~

Now, although this, in itself, is always a noble lesson to teach and to learn, this is not the fitting place nor I the teacher worthy to enforce it.

But at least I desire to enforce one germain to it. Let me beg you to bear in mind that I have not inculcated that none of the things generally proposed as the objects of life are worth striving for, nor have I intimated that yon should fold your arms in apathy and turn away from them all with philosophic cynicism. I have only endeavored to show that the attainment of none of them will in itself confer happiness,


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while admitting that they may all, within just limits, be legitimately, or even meritoriously, contended for.

What, then, would I propose as the true mode of securing the greatest amount of happiness during our earthly career ~ My answer is simple. It may sound homely and common-place. It lies in one word-DuTY. To some it may seem but a lame and impotent conclusion after so much preface rsnd rhetoric. It may fall upon your ears with a disappointing sound, as when Naaman heanl the simple injunction, "Go and wash in Jordan. " Like him, you may be inclined to ask if the rivers of Damascus arc not better, and would rather that I should have bid you " do some great thing." But firmly and sincerely do I believe, and the conviction strengthens with my gathering years, that the nearest approach to true happiness in this world (and certainly it does not less forcibly apply to the attainment of happiness hereafter) is to be found in the ~imple, honest, brave discharge of Duty. For duty includes eYerything that we are bound to do or not to do by any natural, moral or legal obligation.

If I were asked what eleYates Washingtrm and Wellington above many of the greatest heroes of the world--above Alexander, Cresar , Napoleon or :\Iarlborough--I would unhesitatingly say, their recognition of Duty as the controlling principle of action. And Nelson-the greatest of naval heroes-whose love of glory was a consuming passion, and whose moral sense was so much obscured by his guilty love, what, on the e\'e of the tremendous conflict of Trafalgar, was the last signal he di!'played from his flag-ship 1 " England expects eve?'y rnan to do his Dut!J." We have all read of the enthusiasm which that signal created in the fleet, and who can doubt that it swelled the hearts of British seamen with dauntless courage and helped to decide the fate of the day 1

.And when, a few hours later, breathing out his heroic soul in the arms of Yictory, his last words were: "Thank God ! I have done my Duty.''

Nobly has one of England's greatest poets said:

" Powers dl'p:lrl, possessions Y:lnl•h. a.nd opinions cha.n~:e And Pas~ion holds a. llucLUatmg ~eat, But, mid the 8tonns of circumstance unshaken And subject neither to eclipse nor waneDUTY exists-immutably f.UrYiYCS !"

Shall I then be told that I am enforcing a mean and common-place theme~ Ought I not rather, here in this Mecca of the South, standing upon the soil where repose the ashes of Jackson and of Lee, to be filled with a sacred enthusiasm in urging upon you a lesson so conspicuously


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illustrated by their great examples 1 No men eYer lived in whom the sense of Duty was deeper, profounder, more all-pervading. It was ever present. It went hand in hand with every position in life they ever occupied. And ~ere especially, where one commence1l and the other closed his career in connection with the Institute and the College, in training young men for the duties of life, it has seemed to me singularly appropriate to urge my theme.

It is not necessary for me to elwell at length upon their lives and achievements. " The world knows them by heart "-the North as well as the South. And no higher evidence could be adrluced to show how profoundly they have made their impress upon their times than the fact that, even when passion and sectional animosity were at their height, the Northern press and people were forced to pay tribute to their genius and their virtues. The deep religious enthusiasm of Jackson doubtless had much to do with the impression he made upon the Northern mind, especially in New England, where the stamp of the old Puritans remains indelible. There was something of Cromwell about him, without Cromwell's spirit of intrigue anrl personal ambition. His own exalted ideal of Duty made him sternly exacting in requiring its discharge by others. He could not easily make allowances for the shortcomings of his subordinates, and indolence and inefficiency he held in lofty contempt. In one of his letters written to me, as Chairman of the Military Committee in the House, urging the necessity of ridding the army of incompetent officers, and which ga,·e rise to what was called "the Army Purging Bill," he uses the following language: ·' .Jierit should be the only basis for promotion. A true patriot will not desire an office for which he is incompetent, and none but true patriots should have office. Officers should be ready to ignore eYery idea of personal ease and comfort and to place ow· cause abore crery earthly consideration." Noble words ! How characteristic of the man ! How unceasingly did his own example illustrate their precepts ! Next to his Duty to his God stood his Duty to his Country. In her cause he was willing to spend and be spent. No dangers could daunt, no periis dishearten, no odds dismay, no toil or fa.tiguc subdue the indomitable Roul of this Christian Soldier. 'l he physical strength, the sinew:: and muscles of his men and horses could not keep pace with his fiery ardor. lie never seemed to feel the necessity for repose. He had a testimony in life to deliver- a mission to accomplish-and could not rest until the goal was attained. "Rest !" he would have exclaimed, in the words of John Wesley, "Will I not have all eternity to rest in!"


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And he has gone to that rest. Across the broad and silent river he calmly passed, while victory still hovered over our banners, hopeful, trustful, happily unconscious of the impending ruin of his country ! Truly he might have sa.id, " I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course ; I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day." .

General Lee has frequently been compared with Washington, who was doubtless, to a certain extent, his model and exemplar. And there was in many respects a resemblance. In both we see the calm wisdom, the imperturbable constancy, the deliberate valor, the purity and singleness of purpose, and above all the exalted devotion to Duty, as the guide-the Polar Star-through all the voyage and tempests of life, which will stamp them for ever as types of the Christian Hero. And there was in both the stately grace and dignity, the knightly courtesy, the high-bred bearing, that fill our ideal of the Southern gentleman and Cavalier. But there were in General Lee special traits and characteristic qualities, intellectual and moral, strongly defining his marked individuality.

This is not the occasion to dwell upon his masterly skill as a General , but his rare and discriminating judgment of men, his skill in selecting his instruments, his delicate tact in ridding himself of the incumbrance of inefficient subordinates without irritating or wounding them, his perfect truthfulness, his generous allowance for honest failures or mistakes, all combine to make up a character so balanced, so justly proportioned, so harmonious, so majestic, that it will live forever in the memories and hearts of his countrymen. If I were to select one instance rather than another of his noble and generous, his unselfish and manful nature, I would recall the battle of Gettysburg. When at that great turning point of our struggle, where victory would almost have ensured our recognition by England and France, when the great cast had been made and lost, and the profound disappointment of his generals was being tinged with bitter recrimination, he interposed, "No, gentlemen, it was my fault!"

But it is not my purpose to go into an extended analysis of the character of our great Chieftain or to pronounce elaborate eulogy. That has been done by more gifted pens and more eloquent tongues than mine. I am only desirous of inculcating my theme by reference to his example. In every position, in every relation of life, in every trial and emergency, DuTY was the one beacon that ever lighted and guided his


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course. Called to the defence of his mother Virginia by the unanimous voice of her people, in accepting the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth, he used this simple language: "Trusting in Almighty God, an approving conscience and the aid of my fellow-citizens, I devote myself to the service of my native State, in whose behalf alone will I ever again draw my sword." And when he sheathed and surrendered that sword, in sorrow, but not in shame, after it had for four years kept back the overwhelming hosts of the invader, the last official order he addressed to the handful left him of his noble army contained these words : " You will take with you the satisfaction that proceeds from the consciousness of duty faithfully performed." Not, as Napoleon would have said, with the consciousness of having covered your country and yourselves with Glory, but of having faithfully done your DuTY ! How, in every utterance, was this ever the key note !

l\'Iay we not pronounce over our great Captain the lament of Sir Ector over Sir Launcelot of the Lake? "Ah, Sir Launcelot, thou wert the head of all Christian knights. And thou wert the courteousest knight that ever bore shield. And thou wert the truest friend to thy lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou wert the kindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou wert the goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou wert the meekest man and the greatest that ever ate in hall among ladies. And thou wert the truest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in rest."

In his course and life subsequent to the war we see vividly illustrated the same great, ruling principle of action. As an honorable Soldier, who had laid down his arms, he submitted to the terms of the conqueror, harsh and ungenerous though they were. As a wise Statesman, he accepted the inexorable logic of events. As a pure Patriot, he counseled peace and repose for his country to enable her to repair the raYages of war. As a good Citizen, he addressed himself to the most useful task that presented itself, and, still under the ever-controlling sense of duty, in the decline of life entered upon a new career.

Of this I need not speak to you, who, during the years just past, have witnessed his daily life and conversation. Here in noble and useful retirement; here with "the consciousness of having faithfully discharged his duty;" here, though exiled from his devastated home, who can doubt that he enjoyed more real happiness, more " true joy" felt-

" Than Cresar with a Senate at his heeJg."

And here in the maturity of his mental powers-in quiet, unostentatious and noble usefulness-loved and revered by his countrymen, with


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his harness on, in the conflict of life, though not in the smoke of musketry and cannon, our great Southern Hero fell and passed to his reward. And a sorrowing p~oplc feel that it is not only as a consummate Soldier and Rpotless Patriot that the name of Robert E. Lee will live for eYer in history, but also as a great Teacher, not of the dialectics of the schools, not of systems of Philosop'hy, or theories of Science, but as a Teacher and Exemplar of the great lesson of Hu~IAN DUTY.

And here, gentlemen, I might end my task. But having inculcated upon you duty as the most likely means of attaining happiness, even in this life, I feel that I am bound to go a step further.

Duty must be discharged for its own sake, because it is duty, and not with a ,·iew to ulterior reward on earth. Though honesty may be the beRt policy, yet the man who is honest from policy cannot be regarded as a man of a Yery high stamp. Gentlemen speak the truth, not because in the long run it benefits them more than falsehood, but because it is base and cowardly to lie. So we must do our duty, do what is right, must feel that-

"Dt>can"c right i~ right, to follow right "\\.<>re \\i~dom, in the scorn of consequence."

You must, therefore, be prepared for disappointment and perhaps failure. With an ever-present sense of the obligation of duty you cannot descend to the artifices, impostures and tricks by which men sometimes achieve what is called success. The voluble and brazen "pettifogger, " who can brow-beat a witness and bamboozle a jury, the empiric too ignorant to know his own ignorance, who will sneer at your frank avowal that you do not understand a case, and who attracts patient~ by yielding compliance to their habits and giving opinions in accordance with their wishes ; the uneducated Engineer or Architect who cannot find the centre of gravity of a body, determine the radius of cun-ature, or calculate the strength of a beam, yet by deceptive estimates and pretty sketches is always getting employment; the blatant demagogue on the hustings, who vanquishes you with the "Ayes and Noes" on some petty question drawn from your Legislative " record," or by clap-trap appeals to local prejudice and passion, all may outstrip you in the race, and vainly may you strive to reach the goal, perhaps may fall fainting, it may be wounded and stripped, by the wayside. Then the hard, " practical" man will come and look down on you with contempt and say, "He chose his own path ; he has had his chance with the rest ; he is weak and worthless ; let him lie." And he will pass by on the other side. And the indifferent World as it hurries by ;


tl

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the worl1l tha.t ha~ no touchstone of merit hut ~nccci's; the :-:elfi:-:h worJ,l

that only courts the pro~pcrou~, only helps tho~c who llcclllllJ help," ill

cast a half pitying ~lance upon ~·o11, anll will all p.t .. :-; hy on tiH· Mhe1· gitlc. Ani! ~eJ,lom in om 1la,· a111l generation will ('ome the "001l . ~ ~

Samaritan to rait-'C yon np aml IJ.iiHl up your wou1Hh-, pouring ill oil an1l

wme. But C'\'Cn then, if C'on~cicnec as:-:nrc you that yon ha,·c mrt~lc cn·n· . . .

honest effort, u~cll C\·cry honorable means of snccc·:-~, e'en thcu ~·ou will be sustaine1l nn<l chccrc<l hv "the consciousHcss of ha,·in" faithfnllv . ,~ .. discharged yonr <lnty." Yon will he strcngthcnc<l hy the rccollcetion of the noble men who:-;c cxn,mJ>ll's I haYc heen hol1lin(J" 1m to yon. For <li<l

0 ' •

not they too fail in achic,·ing Rucce-.,s for the cause tlHit wa..; <le:ucr to

them than life I If <lishc,~rtcne<l awl about to ahawlon ~ onr cfi'ort:<. think of the zeal and never-resting energy of .Jachon; a1Hl if tcmpt(•1l

to place personal consi<lerations of ease and comfort a hoYe the ~rcat ca.u::;e of Truth, or to reach after anything unworthy or ignol1le. theu

let his memory rise hetween you and your temptation like a ·• ~tone

wall." If baffled an1l di::;appointed in your dearest hope.;; anrl aspirations.

learn from Lee that so long as life lasts there ii' for the earnc;,t worker

some u~cful task to fulfill, some worthy duty to perfMm. Remember, too, that though you may n ot win renown or reputatinn.

may not conquer sncccss in your vocation in life. may n0t accumulate

wealth for your children ; nay, may not leave them any earthly po~sc~sion, still yon can always command the respect and esteem of the wi~e and the good; can always enjoy a self-approving consc-ience. antl can

leave to your chihlren a heritage of which they may justly he proutla father's f:.potless name; a name which even detraction will not <lcny was synonymous with unimpeached Honor and unsullied Truth, tuHl the

brightness of which n either Envy nor :Oialice can oh-.,curc . Io:. not that in itself something worth living for? ·what prouder in"criptinn conl'l

a man desire upon his tomb-prouder than that can·ed upon many a pompous monument to greatuess; what nobler Epitaph than the simple

words:

HERE LIES O:XE \YIIO "\.L\Y_\.YS DID IUS nrTY.

Forward then, ~cntlcmcn, into the stru~glin~ an.•n:1. and. in tlw Iancruao-e of the knirtltt::; of ol1l, ''Do Yonr En!lca,·or. '' lkar aloft Y0\11'

0 b 1":' • •

standard with Dt"I'Y cle:nly cmhlnom'tl upon it,; fol1k '!'hat i:-1 a han-

ncr that no tyrant power enn c,·er make y on furl! Hcmcmhcr, though

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it ht• harcl for us l'oufeclcrate-., to realize it, that the ra('(' is not ahnn·s to the swift. the battle not ahrays to the strong. He bole!, yet pn11lcnt; war,\' , yt•t t'lllt'l'pri:-in~; stcaclf:lst. cnclnrin!!'. patient. If fortnuc :-utile upon ~·n 11, hcl;l:-( not ,\'Olll':-elf too lllll<:h HpoHlrcr I;t\ or:-; . Jf sire frcn\lrs, "lll'l'l'llch·r not yo11rsclf to clt•spnit·. Lt·t nnt Prospt'rity pufr you up \\ith \altit.'· ancl pricl<'; 11or Po,·crty ('\Cl' lo\\l'l' yoHr sen:o;e of cli~nity :urd H'll'-n'SJH'<"I. Oi,..appointmcnt with noble 11atnres is :-:omctilllcs a Jll'<'('ious clis('ipline, "lri('h purifies ancl clcratcs the \\hole IJeiJJg.

"Thro trPC' ~lld\s ldncllif1 1' nnrftll'P front the' ~oil PnriC'ht•d Hy H:-o. own f:tllPn ka n·~: andlll:tll is Jnaclf' ln ht>: l l"t :11Hl :-opiril froJtl dc·ciclnons Jwjws ~\nd thin!!';-;. that ~Cl'lll to lWJi-..h.··

~lay c:l<"h one of yon c1uit himself like a man in tire conflict an<l 1rin tht' "\\"ell clo11e" of the ~rcat Captain anclllulcr of men . If you fall itt the strif't', may you fall like .);lckson, with the consciousnel's that you too. lwwcn·r humhly, h:lYC "fought a go0cl fight," ancl from the right<'nn-; .) ucl~e, "ho "cigh~ the heart more than the tlcecl, measure::; the nwti,·c rather than the achicYement, may hope to rccei,·c that only true cro"n of ]£.\1'1'1:\'E:-::-;.

Awl "hen at the close of the great Dattk of I-'ifc you retire from the c01rtest. \llwrhcr as Yictor or Yanquishecl, whether the cause he lost or won, mny yon shC';Hhe ~·our swonl as Lee sheathed hi~ at ..~\ ppomattox,

it-; ln·i~hrncss unclimmed by a breath of dishonor, it::; lust~·c untarnishetl hy one unknightly stroke !


delivered before of the irginia b ilitary j...

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