THE SUPERIORITY OF THE PRESENT AGE: 
 
 FRANKLIN LITERARY SOCIETY 
 
 ME. HORIEE'S SCHOOL, 
 
 OXFORD, N. C, 
 
 FRANKS. WILSON. 
 
 RALEIGH: 
 HOLDEN AND WILSON, "STANDARD" OFFICE. 
 
 1859. 
 
+ « 
 
 Franklin Society Hall, May 2^869*^ ^ Q g* 
 
 To Frank. I. Wilson : 
 
 Dear Sir ;— At a meeting of the Franklin Literary Society, held this day, the fol- 
 lowing resolution was unanimously passed : 
 
 .Resolved, That the thanks of the fc Society be tendered to Frank. I. Wilson, Esq., for 
 his eloquent and highly instructive address, delivered before the Society, at our last 
 commencement, and that he be requested to furnish us a copy for publication. 
 
 In the discharge of this duty, permit us to express the gratification we experienced 
 during its delivery, and to add our personal solicitations to that of the Society we 
 represent. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 AUGUSTUS M. MOORE, ) 
 
 JOHN COWAN, I Committee. 
 
 T. H. SATTERTHWAITE. ) 
 
 Oxford, N. C, May 28, 1859. 
 Gentlemen :— I thank you for your complimentary note of yesterday. I regard the 
 Address delivered by me as your property ; and without consulting personal feelings, 
 T place it at your disposal. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 FRANK. I. WILSON. 
 Messrs. Augustus M. Moore, \ 
 
 John Cowan, v Committee. 
 
 T. H. Satterthwaite, \ 
 
& 'm * IK •♦ 
 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 $ 
 
 By invitation of the Franklin Literary Society, I appear 
 before yon to-day to address yon ; and were it not that I dis- 
 like apologies, I would offer one for my short-comings on the 
 occasion. Not by way of apology, but by way of explana- 
 tion, I may say that a multiplicity of duties, and a recent 
 necessary absence from home, have not left me that time for 
 preparation I desired. But when boys ask a favor of me, I 
 know not how to refuse them. I oblige men when conveni- 
 ent — boys when possible — and the ladies anyhow. I have 
 been a boy myself, (and I beg you to remember it was not 
 " long ago" either;) and I think I still know and appreciate, 
 what too many men forget, the thoughts, feelings and sensi- 
 bilities of boyhood. Had men invited me to occupy the 
 position I do here to-day, I should have declined ; but I con- 
 sider it the duty of all to add what they can to the pleasure 
 and instruction of youth ; and though I accepted the invita- 
 tion of the Society from a sense of duty, I thank its members 
 none the less for their kind partiality, and will discharge my 
 duty according to the best of my abilities and opportunities, 
 neither seeking praise nor shunning criticism. 
 
 I have selected, as the subject of my address, The Superi- 
 ority of the Present Age. 
 
 In the short space I shall occupy it cannot be expected that 
 I can do more than present a few prominent points. 
 
 There is much food for thought, and a wide field for reflec- 
 tion in contemplating the past history of the world and com- 
 paring previous ages with the present one ; and I contend 
 that no past period has been so interesting, so freighted with 
 important consequences, and possessed so many advantages, 
 as the present. 
 
In the progress of refinement and enlightenment, and in 
 the advance of the arts and sciences, there seems always to 
 have been some maximum point beyond which mankind 
 could not go— some elevation from which no step for a higher 
 ascent could be found. !N"or was the platform of this eleva- 
 tion broad enough to furnish a resting place ; but whenever 
 reached, the course thence was downward with an ever-in- 
 creasing velocity. Men of the present age seem to have 
 discovered some means of ascent before unknown, and to 
 have risen far higher than the men of any past period. 
 
 It is true that we have no certain accounts of the extent 
 to which the arts and sciences were carried among ancient 
 nations that made great pretensions to learning ; but the very 
 fact that they were not carried to an extent sufficient to hand 
 them down to all posterity, is proof conclusive of the inferi- 
 ority of the past when compared with the present. Egypt, 
 "renowned for ancient lore," has been so long sunk in ignor- 
 ance and superstition, that " dark as Egypt " has now become 
 a common saying to express the lowest depths of these con- 
 ditions. We do not even know what this "ancient lore" 
 was — its nature nor its tendency — for which this country was 
 so renowned. Its mummies, embalmed for thousands of 
 years, reveal nothing to us, for " dead men tell no tales." Its 
 pyramids alone remain, as subjects for speculation. They 
 stand as monuments, not only of its architectural skill, but 
 also of its folly; for no purpose to which they could have 
 been applied would have proved an equivalent for the labor 
 bestowed, the time consumed, and the expense incurred in 
 their erection. 
 
 The Romans also, who boasted of their wealth and intelli- 
 gence, and who carried the terror of their arms and spread 
 their conquests over nearly all the then known world, are 
 now considered, and rightly too, to have been at best semi- 
 barbarians, sunk low in the depths of superstition. Yet they 
 rose to a height probably never reached before —tottered for 
 a moment on the summit — and fell, gradually at first, but 
 like the descending stone, constantly gathering impetus from 
 their fall, they at length came down, crushed and shattered. 
 
their ruin the more complete from the towering height from 
 which they fell. 
 
 It is true that some of the ancient nations made what was 
 then considered, and what we may now consider, great pro- 
 gress in civilization, and in the arts and sciences ; but super- 
 stition, that dark and withering blight upon the mind, always 
 swayed them as the wind does the reed ; and as long as that 
 blight hangs over a nation, it is incapable of rising to any 
 great height in mental improvement. It has become a prac- 
 tice among moderns, not unfrequently met with even in our 
 legislative halls, to appeal to Greece or Rome whenever they 
 wish to furnish a model of a statesman, a patriot, a warrior 
 or a poet. It is true that those countries produced great men 
 in all these capacities, but they were only exceptions to the 
 general rule, and the present age has furnished those who are 
 far greater. Among ., the ancients there occasionally rose a 
 master mind, who ruled the rabble — became first a hero, then 
 a god, and shone the brighter from the darkness that sur- 
 rounded him ; just as a single star, were all the others obscur- 
 ed by clouds, would seem to shine with a tenfold lustre. 
 Caesar was one of those master minds, and by the influence 
 his superior mental faculties gave him over those of inferior 
 capacities, he could generally lead his troops to victory — 
 victory obtained, as were all victories in those days, by mere 
 brute force. Left to themselves they were in no way superior 
 to those they were pleased to call " Barbarians." I need 
 only refer to the battlefields of our Revolutionary struggle, 
 to those of the war of 1812, and of the recent war with 
 Mexico, to produce instances of bravery and of generalship 
 with which none on record in the annals of ancient nations 
 will bear any comparison. And yet superficial minds are 
 ringing their eternal changes on the high positions of Greece 
 and Rome, the generalship of Caesar, and the eloquence of 
 Cicero and Demosthenes. I would not pluck a leaf from the 
 wreath of renown that encircles the brows of those ancient 
 men ; but I must express the belief that they dwindle almost 
 into insignificance,, when compared with the warriors and 
 orators of the present age. We may well place Jackson, 
 
8 
 
 Scott and Taylor against all the warriors, and Clay, Calhoun 
 and Webster against all the orators of the olden time. 
 
 I have said there seemed to be a maximum in intelligence 
 and refinement, beyond which the races of past ages could 
 not go. There seems also to have been a minimum of degra- 
 dation lower than which they could not sink. That action 
 and reaction are equal, and in opposite directions, is a philo- 
 sophical proposition clearly demonstrable ; and it may be 
 appropriately applied to the human race in its past history. 
 Raised to its maximum height, it reacted and sunk ; sunk to 
 its minimum depth, it reacted and rose, — rose in proportion 
 to its former degradation,— sunk in proportion to its former 
 elevation. 
 
 Asia, once the seat of learning and the most important 
 quarter of the globe — -the land in which our Saviour chose to 
 appear and proclaim his divine mission — the land of miracles 
 wrought by Omnipotence — the land whose every hill was 
 hallowed with the presence of the Deity — whose mount of 
 Sinai thundered with the laws of God— whose mount of 
 Olivet was pressed by the knees of the Son of God as he 
 prayed in agony to his Father ; and on whose hill of Calvary 
 was sealed, with the sinless blood of the Godhead, the re- 
 demption of the world, the land that was made the theatre 
 of the most sublime, the most terrible and the most pleasing 
 events of the world — is now sunk in the most abject igno- 
 rance, superstition and degradation. Alas, how fallen from 
 its high estate ! With a population more numerous than all 
 the rest of the world, she bows her head either in the wor- 
 ship of idols hewn from wood and stone, or of a base impos- 
 ter — tramples upon the holy sepulchre, and kneels at the 
 shrine of Mecca. America, a continent unknown in the 
 palmy days of that land, and but a short time since covered , 
 with savages, her forests unbroken, her rivers rolling their 
 useless waters to the ocean, and all her mighty resources 
 undeveloped, has, in a few years risen to such importance as 
 to attract the eyes of the whole world, and to rank among 
 the greatest powers of the earth. Affording an asylum to 
 the oppressed of all lands, guaranteeing freedom of religious 
 
9 
 
 • 
 sentiments, and insuring happiness to her people, she has 
 drawn to her the sympathies of all hearts, save those who 
 desire to tyrannize over their fellow men. She has produced 
 a government which has solved the long disputed problem, 
 and proved that men can govern themselves, without the aid 
 of hereditary royalty, so frequently degenerating into idiocy, — 
 a government that has made tyrants tremble on their thrones, 
 fearing that their subjects would follow our- example. Nor 
 have those fears been groundless. Europe has been con- 
 vulsed again and again, and even now a gathered storm is 
 bursting in fury upon the nations of the old world. The 
 time has been that despots sprang from their thrones like 
 startled stags, and cowered before the people they had so 
 long oppressed. But as yet, it has only been a change of 
 despots — not deliverance from them. I believe the world 
 will yet be revolutionized. The great Infinite works by 
 means that finite beings cannot always comprehend ; but the 
 spread of the Christian religion, the light of intelligence, 
 and the example of our great republic, must yet influence 
 the minds of men to desire, and nerve their arms to strike 
 for, Liberty. 
 
 Among the advantages of the present age — advantages 
 unknown to all past ages — are the uses of steam and electric- 
 ity; and the honor of applying thest important agents to 
 their most useful purposes, belongs not only to the present 
 age, but to our own country. It has been conjectured by 
 some that the people of future ages will look back upon us as 
 we look back upon those that are past — as inferiors. It may 
 be so ; but I incline to the belief that the nineteenth century 
 will be regarded as the period in which the greatest discove- 
 ries have been made, rather than that greater ones will be 
 made during any subsequent century. When matter becomes 
 so entirely under the control of mind, and is so thoroughly 
 subdued and rendered subservient to will, as those two great 
 agents now are, it is almost impossible to make any very im- 
 portant improvements in their application. There may be 
 other mighty agents yet unknown, to be hereafter discovered ; 
 but surely none can be found that will more effectually anni* 
 
10 
 
 • 
 
 Jiifate space than electricity now .does. Distance is rendered 
 no obstacle to the transmission of intelligence. Raised on 
 u its thousand piers/' or sunk beneath the ocean's waves ? 
 electricity flashes along with the swiftness of thought, doing 
 the bidding of man. It may yet pursue its course through 
 the pathless deep, linking together the old world and the 
 new. I am not one of those who make success a test of 
 merit, nor do I despair at one, two or three failures. Bruce 
 saw the spider make seven attempts ere he cast his web as 
 he desired, and from that took courage, persevered, and 
 achieved the liberties of his country. With intelligent, de- 
 termined men, every failure has its benefits. Even when 
 unsuccessful they learn something that leads to success. 
 Nothing is at once made perfect; and by repeated efforts, 
 correcting the faults of former attempts, the electric wire 
 may yet subserve the purposes of men and nations through 
 the trackless waste of ocean's unknown bed. 
 
 By the power of steam continents are rolled together, as it 
 were, and reduced to a neighborhood. A voyage across the 
 Atlantic is now performed almost in as many days as it once 
 required months ; and instead of being considered wearisome, 
 is regarded merely as a pleasure excursion. Less than half a 
 century ago there was not one mile — nay, not one foot of 
 railroad in the United States. Now there are thousands of 
 miles, and thousands are being annually added. A journey 
 that once occupied days, is now performed in as many hours, 
 and travel that was then fatiguing, is now mere recreation, 
 lias any past age ever enjoyed such advantages? 
 
 Dr. Franklin, that worthy old gentleman from whom this 
 society derives its name, once expressed the wish that he 
 could revisit the earth at the expiration of a hundred years 
 from the time of his death, that he might see the improve- 
 ments made in that time. Less than a hundred years have 
 elapsed since he went down to the grave, at a ripe old age, 
 full of honors, leaving his name emblazoned forever on the 
 rolls of fame, and living forever in the memory of man ; but 
 if he could arise now, and see one of our locomotives thun- 
 dering by, belching forth its fire and smoke, drawing in its 
 
11 
 
 train a long line of cars, and hear the clatter of the hundred 
 wheels upon the iron rail, as they rolled on at the speed of 
 thirty, forty, or even sixty miles an hour ; or could he step 
 into a telegraph office in New York and make some enquiry 
 in New Orleans, and receive from that far southern city a 
 reply, dated, perhaps, a few moments anterior to the enquiry, 
 and then be told that it was done by means of that electricity 
 in which he took so great an interest while living, I fear the 
 old philosopher would lose that equanimity and dauntlessness 
 that so much distinguished him through life, and flee, 
 abashed, back to the cerements he had burst. 
 
 Another, and perhaps the greatest, advantage of the pres- 
 ent age over all past ages, is liberty of conscience, — the 
 ' disenthrall m en t of the mind. Bigotry no longer drags its 
 victims to the stake, and superstition no longer burns old 
 women as witches ; as, even upon this continent, the Puritan 
 fathers did — those men who are held up to us in the charac- 
 ter of martyrs — as fleeing from persecution to enjoy in the 
 wilderness their religious sentiments. Orators have deified 
 them, and poets sung their heroism; but I fear they were 
 more inclined to exercise freedom of opinion themselves than 
 to allow it to others — that they were more selfish than just — 
 more austere than pious, and more delighted to damn others 
 than to attend to those things pertaining to their own salva- 
 tion ; and I also fear that many of their posterity in the New 
 England States are worse even than their fathers, as they 
 glory in robbing their southern brethren of that very prop- 
 erty introduced by their ancestors, and seem to prefer the 
 company of negroes down oelow, to that of their masters up 
 ahove. 
 
 But toleration of religious principles and tenets has become 
 almost universal among the civilized nations of the earth, 
 and every one is allowed to worship his Maker, and to regu- 
 late his actions, so far as they transgress no laws necessary 
 for the well being of society, according to the dictates of his 
 own conscience. The most potent reason for this great and 
 desirable change, is to be found in the general diffusion of 
 knowledge, through the medium of printing. By books and 
 
12 
 
 newspapers men have become informed — Republican princi- 
 ples have been engendered— superstition has fled before the 
 march of intelligence, and prejudices and persecutions have 
 died beneath the light of knowledge. A free press will 
 always make a free people. Unbind the fetters on the press 
 in the Old World, and the last crowned head will soon be 
 laid in the dust. 
 
 Then I contend that in statesmen, in warriors, in poets, in 
 the general diffusion of knowledge, in religious and civil 
 liberty, in improvements, in progress in the arts and sciences, 
 in all that conduces to the full development of the more 
 ennobling faculties of the mind, in all that tends to promote 
 the happiness and prosperity of our race, the present age is 
 far in advance of all former ages. , 
 
 But while I contend for the superiority of the present over 
 the past, I am not blind to the faults of the present. Many, 
 ay, most of the errors of the past, have been unrecorded and 
 forgotten. This is well. Let the good men do live after 
 them— let their faults be buried with them. Let their good 
 parts shine forth as an example for imitation, but let their 
 failings be forgotten beneath the ruins under which they lie. 
 The examples of good are more potent than the warnings of 
 evil. No one ever yet reached Heaven, merely from the fear 
 of hell. 
 
 As a general thing we see only the bright side of the past. 
 Hence we are apt to conclude that the men of former times 
 were purer and more virtuous than we. We are daily remind- 
 ed of the stern virtues of the Romans, and of Roman firm- 
 ness ; and we are told of "the earlier and purer days" of 
 our own Republic. This is all illusory. Human nature is in 
 all climes and ages the same. If our government is more 
 corrupt than formerly, it is only because it is more extended, 
 and there are more inducements and more temptations to 
 corruption. If ancient nations seem to have been more pure 
 than we, it is only because their corruptions have not been 
 brought down to us. In the past we see but little except the 
 good : in the present we see the good and evil blended. 
 
 But why talk of Roman virtues and Roman firmness ? 
 
13 
 
 i 
 
 How many of Rome's proud chieftains, after bearing aloft 
 the eagle of the Republic, turned their arms against the 
 bosom of their own country ? In our history as a nation, how 
 many such have we had ? With regret, with indignation, 
 with scorn and curses, we point to the traitor, Benedict 
 Arnold ; but it is our glory that we can point to no other. 
 Tell ns of your patriots of the olden times — of their purity, 
 their firmness, their stern sense of justice, their unyielding 
 honesty, their unwavering courage, their prudence, their 
 zeal, their devotion to their country, and we will eclipse them 
 all with a Washington and a Jackson ! Tell us of the Roman 
 matrons who sent forth their sons to battle, with the injunc- 
 tion to return victorious or on their shields, and we will point- 
 to our mothers of the Revolution who bade their husbands, 
 sons, brothers and lovers meet the proud invader! In no 
 aspect can ancient times bear a comparison with the present. 
 
 How meagre, too, are the accounts we have of the old 
 nations. This of itself shows they were far behind us. One 
 newspaper published in Rome during its days of renown, and 
 preserved until the present time, would have thrown more 
 light upon that era than can be gathered from all the histori- 
 ans, orators and poets of that age. 
 
 Many nations have risen, flourished and decayed. Our 
 own Republic may share the fate of those gone before. 
 Clouds have been lowering for years in our Northern horizon, 
 bearing a threatening aspect. The last home of liberty — the 
 last refuge of the oppressed — the last hope of man, must 
 perish with our federal Constitution. I speak not of the 
 Union, for that is only the consequence of the Constitution, 
 and must stand or fall with it. Let us, then, guard that 
 Constitution — shield it from all violence — preserve it from 
 every infraction. Let us resist, at all hazards, any and every 
 attempt to violate the rights guaranteed to us by it. In the 
 language of Jackson, " Let us ask nothing that is not right, 
 and submit to nothing that is wrong." Animated by this 
 spirit we shall have nothing to fear ; for it is better to perish 
 battling for the right than to live in dishonor. I trust we 
 have not, as a people, yet forfeited the protection of Heaven ; 
 
14 
 
 and in the past history of the world, Providence has raised 
 up men for the emergencies of the times. JSTo great occasion 
 has ever yet called for a man, that that man was not found'. 
 Moses was chosen to deliver the people of Israel from bond- 
 age — Cromwell was the leveller of inordinate pride and 
 arrogance — Napoleon, the man of destiny, (and destiny means 
 the purposes of God,) shook the corrupt and rotten powers of 
 the Old World, while Washington achieved the liberties of 
 the 'New. Jackson was the man for his time, and while I 
 believe the present times demand another Jackson, I have an 
 abiding confidence that he will be found. Another St apoleon 
 may be required in the Old World to finish the work com- 
 menced by the other ; and he will appear, if, indeed, he has 
 not already appeared. Many of our renowned men have 
 gone down to the grave, and men say despondingly, " We 
 shall never look upon their like again." I have no such fears. 
 Let the occasion requiring another Washington arise, and 
 even another Washington will be found ; and if another 
 Washington can be produced, what may we not hope and 
 expect? Until that Great Being who has heretofore guided, 
 governed and protected us, withdraws. His shielding and di- 
 recting power, we need not fear but that He will furnish the 
 instruments for accomplishing his designs ; and when that 
 Power is withdrawn we shall deserve the fate we meet, and 
 the world the- darkness that will shroud it. 
 
 But I have said that While I contended for the superiority 
 of the present age over all past ones, I was not blind to its 
 faults. While an age of progress and improvement, it is 
 also an age of what, in our expressive language, we term 
 humbuggery. Why, if the advertisements of our patent 
 medicine men contain any truth in them, no one but the 
 veriest fool need ever suffer pain, disease or death. They 
 offer us cures — infallible ones — for all the ills that flesh is 
 heir to, and guarantee preventives for those that may yet 
 otherwise afflict us — and all for a quarter of a dollar ! As a 
 matter of economy, if not of choice, it is better to live, when 
 a universal panacea costs only twenty-five cents, and a burial 
 would cost some dollars. 
 
15 
 
 And how foolish in us, too, to pay anything for our dry 
 .goods, groceries, &c. Does not every merchant and grocer 
 advertise his goods, wares, &c, " cheaper than the cheapest?" 
 What then have we to do but to go from store to store until 
 we get onr goods for nothing, with a handsome present 
 thrown in to compensate us for our trouble ? Let the credu- 
 lous try it, and never more be troubled by a "store bill." 
 
 And our lawyers, too, " may always be consulted at their 
 offices, when not professionally absent;" and I am sorry to 
 say that many of them, even when " professionally engaged," 
 are just as likely to be found at one bar as another. Ask 
 them for advice and they never understand the question 
 until you enlighten their understandings with a bank bill ; 
 and then they pick from you what kind of advice you desire, 
 and give it to you. If you have fallen out with a neighbor, 
 you are advised that that neighbor is a great rascal, and 
 assured that you can ct make him smoke." If you have 
 beaten some fellow, you are advised that you were perfectly 
 justifiable in all you, did, and that you didn't give him "half 
 what he deserved." 
 
 Of doctors, pardon me for being silent. It is a grave.mb- 
 ject. I have already suffered at their hands, and if I should 
 again be so unfortunate as to come under their tender mer- 
 cies, I would rather they had no old grudges against me. 
 
 And if you are of a literary turn of mind, all you have to 
 do to gratify your taste, and at the same time make a fortune, 
 is to patronize the northern "Gift Book" institutions, where 
 you are sure to get reading matter worth double your money, 
 and a present worth double your reading matter. Who so 
 incredulous as to doubt this, and who so foolish as not to 
 profit by it? 
 
 Then again, as model republicans, we have what a Yankee 
 would call a "a mighty hankering" after foreign titles, 
 fashions, manners, and customs. We have no earls, nor 
 lords, nor barons; but we have more generals, colonels, ma- 
 jors and captains than were ever killed in all our wars, — and 
 the most of whom are in no danger of being killed in future 
 wars, or who, at least, will take good care not to so endanger 
 
16 
 
 their lives. And as a last resort, when nothing better can be 
 found, we affix E-s-q., to every body's name. 
 
 Our fashions, too, must come from abroad, and whether 
 comfortable or uncomfortable — whether cheap or expensive — 
 we must adopt them. What though our pantaloons are 
 made so tight that the blood cannot circulate under them, 
 and the ladies' skirts are so expanded that we can only ad- 
 mire their charms upon the principle that " Distance lends 
 enchantment to the view," — it is all right, because it is "the 
 fashion." 
 
 The u fool-killer " is generally considered an imaginary 
 being, but such is not the fact. Thin shoes kill a great many 
 fools. I never see a pair of them on a lady's feet of a cold, 
 wet day, but I say to myself, " There is a pair of fool -killers." 
 Thin clothing in cold weather, when worn to balls and parties 
 for effect, usually have their effect, and not unfrequently kill 
 a fool. 
 
 Were not ours a Christian land, I would say we had as 
 many idolaters at the shrine of the goddess of Fashion, as 
 ever knelt in one generation to Buddah, and that as many 
 victims are sacrificed at that shrine as were ever crushed be- 
 neath the iron wheels ol the car of Juggernaut. But the 
 laws of fashion are inexorable, and he or she who does not 
 conform to them is odd and eccentric, and had just as well 
 be a heathen — and better too, for then missionary societies 
 will clothe and feed them. 
 
 And our young ladies — for girls are obsolete in these days — • 
 cannot be content with the good old scriptural and English 
 names given them by their parents, but must Frenchify and 
 foreignize them with the musical termination, the soft and 
 melodious ending of ie. We have no such name as Frances — 
 it is Fann^ ; no Elizabeth — it is Bett^ ; no Mary — it is Mol- 
 \ie or Polfe I trust this foreign mania will not attack our 
 young men, for instead of the good old name of Frank, we 
 shall have Franks, and instead of Jacob, Jacobs, and instead 
 of Peter, Peter^, &c. But while we deplore this foreigniz- 
 ing of female names, let us be thankful to the fashion-makers 
 that they no longer bury beauty's face three feet deep in 
 
17 
 
 leghorn ; but that by attaching a small bunch of straw, oi k a 
 diminutive quantity of silk, with as many ribbons as circum- 
 stances will allow, to the back of the head, they leave all the 
 features revealed to our admiring gaze. This is one oasis in 
 the desert of fashion, and let us be duly thankful, — even as 
 the weary traveler through the scorching sands of Sahara, is 
 rejoiced to find umbrageous boughs above him, while gushing 
 waters lave his scorched and blistered feet ! 
 
 But enough of pleasantry. These or similar follies have 
 doubtless marked all ages. As a general thing those of the 
 past have not come down to the present; let us hope that 
 those of the present will not go down to the future. 
 
 A few words to the members of the Franklin Society, and 
 I will close. You are boys now — I prefer to call you " boys " 
 instead of "young gentlemen," for the term "boy" is asso- 
 ciated in my mind with all that is generous, honest and 
 harmlessly mischievous ; while that of " young gentleman " 
 is associated with cigars, high-heeled boots, high-top hats, 
 and foolery in general. You are verging on manhood, and 
 when you cease to be boys, he men. You have no doubt 
 heard the term "masterly inactivity." Let me warn you 
 against it. Does not the young blood leaping, thrilling 
 through your veins give the lie to any such term ? If there 
 be any such thing, it is only an exception, and a rare one, to 
 the general rule. He who makes it a rule of conduct will 
 never master anything, but every thing will master him. It 
 is contrary to nature, for life, vigor and activity pervade all 
 her realms. Every drop of water and every grain of sand— 
 every leaf and every flower teems with life. The earth 
 itself is one huge mass of life. The ocean never stagnates, 
 and action only prevents it. In the boundless system of 
 unnumbered Worlds there is no such thing as rest. All is mo- 
 tion — action. Inactivity is death, — -aye, it is annihilation ! 
 You were not placed here to be drones— nothing was made 
 for nothing. You have duties to perform, and a destiny to 
 fulfil. Action > and action only, can enable you to discharge 
 the duties you owe to yourselves, to society, to your country 
 and your God. Nature has implanted in you an aversion to 
 2 
 
18 
 
 inactivity ; and if inactive, you violate a law of nature ; and 
 nature's laws, unlike those of men, can never be violated 
 with impunity. Those now upon the stage of action must 
 soon pass away, and the places that know them now, will 
 know them no more forever. You must take their places ; 
 and 1 charge you to be circumspect, to look well to the course 
 you pursue, and to hand down to the generation after you 
 the priceless inheritance bequeathed to you. 
 
 " The greatest glory of a free-born people, 
 Is to transmit that freedom to their children." 
 
 The world is fair to you — all is life and hope — sunshine and 
 flowers. You look forth upon the buds and blossoms, but 
 you see not the decay that awaits them. You behold the 
 spring-time, but not the autumn ; and it is well. Soon you 
 will awake to the stern realities of life, and when you do, 
 meet them with a firm heart and a determined purpose. 
 
 " The wise and active conquer difficulties, 
 By daring to attempt them." 
 
 Hope and persevere, and difficulties will melt before you like 
 frost-work in the sun. Think for yourselves — think well and 
 act boldly, and regard not the ridiculous conventionalities of 
 what is miscalled " society." Be independent, and whether 
 men agree or disagree with you, they will respect you. Let 
 your course through life, whether in a private or a public 
 station, be marked by a fearless rectitude of conduct. Then 
 those that are your friends will be worthy of your confidence, 
 and your enemies will be those whose enmity is preferable 
 to their friendship. You may, you doubtless will, commit 
 errors ; but keep the conscience clear, and all will be well 
 with you. Conscience is an attribute of the Deity implanted 
 in every breast to check the natural depravity of the heart. 
 Obey its admonitions, and when you go astray you will soon 
 perceive your error, and have the moral courage to renounce 
 it. 
 
 An old poet has said: 
 
19 
 
 " Something of youth I in old age approve, 
 But more the marks of age in youth I love." 
 
 To the latter line of this couplet I dissent. I, too, like to 
 see something of youth in old age ; but nothing is more mel- 
 ancholy than old age in youth. I feel sad when I see what 
 is termed " an old head upon young shoulders." I like the 
 careless, romping, bounding spirit of youth — the wild burst 
 of mirth and joyous glee — the noise, ay, even the mischief 
 of a boyish nature ; but mark you, there is a wide difference 
 between mischief and meanness — between carelessness and 
 cruelty. I like to see manhood and old age retaining the 
 spirit and freshness of youth, but youth in the garb of man- 
 hood is ridiculous, and of old age, saddening. The latter 
 indicates a premature acquaintance with grief, an unhappy 
 life, and an early grave. 
 
 Remember that the world is neither wholly good, nor 
 wholly evil. The good and the bad mingle together, as do 
 joy and grief, sunshine and cloud. Life is a chequered scene, 
 but the light of Hope ever illumines our way. None are so 
 pure as to be without fault — none so depraved as to be desti- 
 tute of all good. 
 
 In the deep, mysterious working 
 
 'Of the most abandoned spirit, 
 Is there naught of honor lurking — 
 
 Naught of good deserving merit ? 
 
 In the holiest meditations 
 
 Of the calmest, purest bosom, 
 Come not evil instigations, 
 
 Like a blight upon a blossom ? 
 
 As none from sin can claim exemption, 
 
 No matter what his elevation, 
 So none need yield hope of redemption, 
 
 No matter what his degradation. 
 
 Both good and evil ever mingle 
 
 •In each cup of pain or pleasure — 
 The soul can take in neither single, 
 
 Even in the smallest measure. 
 
20 
 
 No grief can all the mind engage, 
 We have no pleasure unalloyed—^ 
 
 Our darkest hour has some presage 
 Of future bliss to be enjoyed. 
 
 Bright Hope forever smiling o'er us 
 Glimpses gives of Heaven's portal ; 
 
 But doubts and fears still stalk before us, 
 To remind us we are mortal. 
 
 "What is it that bids us in this bleak world remain, 
 Where there's so much of strife and contention and pain, 
 Disappointment, vexation, and secret repining ? — 
 'Tis the tendrils of Hope round the future entwining' 
 
 Here riches and honors and gay equipage 
 Flee away like the glad bird let loose from its cage ; — 
 But onward! still onward! life's billows we're braving, 
 For the banner of Hope in the distance is waving. 
 
 How eagerly here we for pleasures pursue ! 
 How oft are we foiled, yet the chase still renew ! 
 0, why are we still upon happiness reck'ning ? — ; 
 'Tis Hope goes before, and we follow her beck'ning. 
 
 Oft friendship's deceitful and love but a name ; 
 Our joys melt away like the wax in the flame ; 
 Still onward we go, after others pursuing, 
 For the bright star of Hope is forever renewing. 
 
 Thick gather around us the clouds of despair, 
 And heavily on us weigh trouble and care ; 
 But still unto life we with fondness are clinging. 
 For the fountain of Hope in our bosoms is springing. 
 
 The things that we cherish fade quickly away ; 
 New sources of trouble we meet with each day — 
 Each hour to fresh disappointment we're marching- 
 But the rainbow of Hope is above us still arching.