! W ' ' A FEW REPRESENTATIVE MEN There are in our day few dangers greater than that of pursuing the wrong object in life. Do we not see everywhere men aiming at cleverness rather than honesty, popularity before integrity, reputation instead of charac- ter? And yet character is incomparably higher than all besides. It is the pure gold before which all else seems but tinsel. All that is good in the world is upheld by it and in its absence the world would not be worth living in. It has been said that a handful of character is worth a bushel of learning. “No man,” said Sir Benjamin Rudyard, “is bound to be rich or great — no, nor to bo wise ; but every man is bound to be honest. ” Although genius always commands admiration, character most secures respect. “ Character ”, says one, “ is property . It is the noblest of possessions. Without it one is like a ship without rudder or compass, left to drift hither and thither with every wind that blows”. Many people confound character with reputation. They rightly pray with Burns “ 0 wad some power the giftie gie us To see ourselves as ithers see us ” — ; but they are prone to think that, if others approve of their conduct, their character is established. They look at their own lives through the medium of other eyes and value themselves accordingly. They forget that, while the smile of another’s approval may give them a reputation, it never gives character. It is not what I seem to others to be, but what I really am, that constitutes character. Reputation may be the outward reflection of character ; or it may be, and alas very frequeutly is, only the reflection of hypocrisy and deception. I have been impressed with the want of this clear distinction in the popular use of the Tamil language. Uneducated natives, at least, use such terms, in describing these two yery 2 different tilings, tliat it reveals a confusion in the popular mind in reference to the things themselves. Reputation is the glittering bubble over which the multitude dote ; but it vanishes in the slightest breeze. It should not for one moment be confounded with the brilliant and imperi- shable gem of character. The great question for you and me is not what other men think us to be, which is reputa- tion ; but what we ourselves and God know us to be, which is true character. And be it known to all that, while character is never built upon reputation, the latter is the legitimate result of the former. For the world rarely fails to recognize the genuine ring of sovereign character and to stamp its own image upon it. And this image is fame or reputation. I therefore desire at pres- ent to say a few words which may enhance our regard for character, and increase our desire to possess it. I conceive of no better way of doing this than by giving you very brief sketches of the lives of a few men who may serve us as stimulating examples. In this life example is all potent. True character, embodied in human life and exemplified in individual conduct, we are ever ready to admire, love and follow. It is for this reason that the noble character of a George Washington, a Gladstone or a Madava Row is of more value to a country than a glutted treasury or a well- trained army. As life is many-sided and only one Person ever possessed and lived a complete character, I desire to invite your attention to four men who, to my mind, repre- sent four peculiar traits or types of character, which it were well for us to consider separately. And though these men whom I have chosen and whose lives so conspi- cuously exemplify these individual traits were men whose memory the whole world delights to honor ; yet in natural ability and mental power they were not above the average of men, so that their fame was acquired in a way which is accessible to all of us. They were great, not in natural talents, which greatness perhaps we do not possess, but in character which is within the reach of every one of us. I have also selected men of modern times, rather than of ancient men, whose memories are still fresh and the fragrance of whose lives and character stil] strong. You will excuso me if I first take you with me to 3 America where, in New York City, a couple of months ago, was gathered perhaps the largest and, for that country, the most illustrious assemblage that ever met at the obsequies of a great man. In addition to the vast population of that metropolis half a million strangers entered the city that day to show their regard and love for the memory of him who had just passed away but who will ever find a place with Lincoln in the national heart as the Savior of his Country. Such was General Grant of whom Lord Woolesly remarked that he was the greatest general of the present century. Though twenty years ago his great work in the Civil war of that land was accemplished, to a grateful people and to an admiring world the lustre of his fame has not grown dim. And wherein did his fame consist ? Not in the favorable circumstances of his life, though those may have helped it. It lay rather in his inner life. His whole history is the history of sucess based upon character, which character was pre-eminently conspicuous in one direction, namely — Decision. And by “ decision” I do not mean a readiness to form resolutions, which readiness all men possess; but the purpose and will to carry them into execution. Grant was a man who made up his mind about a certain course to be pursued, and there and then decided that, come what may, he would follow it to the joyful or bitter end. And follow it he did. He was a man of clear perceptions and sound judgment ; but his triumphs were built not so much upon these as upon the firm and immovable foundation of resolve, that his whole soul would exert itself iu executing what his judgment approved and his conscience dictated. On one occasion when the tactics which he had decided upon did not lead his army to immediate success, he revealed his whole character by his brief but famous despatch. “I expect”, he says, “to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer.” He was not very quick to arrive at conclusions. But when once there, lie would carry them out at any expense. He was as immovable as a rock in his purposes, and therein lay his giant strength. During his compaign he once wrote to his father these words. “I never expect to have an army under my com- mand whipped unless it is very badly whipped and cannot help it ; but I have no idea of being driven to a desperate or foolish act by the bowlings of the press.” No ; the 4 u howlings” and opposition of no one could deter him from carrying out his purposes. This quality appeared in early life. When, as a young man, he was engaged in the Mexican war, his bravery in executing his firm resolves brought more than once victory to the army of which he was only a subordi- nate officer. At one time their army vainly attacked and bombarded the city of Mexico and were near retiring in discouragement, when Grant conceived the novel idea of taking the city by means of a church steeple in the vici- nity. The idea was bold, but the execution was still bolder ; for, having quietly taken possession of the church and made its priest a prisoner of war, he, with a body of brave men like himself, converted its lofty steeple into a fort whence he poured shot and shell into the confused and confounded city, thereby so silencing the enemy as to make the entrance of the army into the city an easy matter. When beseiging, many years later, the city of Vicksburg and the besieged desired to capitulate, con- trary to the unanimous advice of his council and others, he decided upon a lenient Bourse of treatment of the prisoners, assumed the whole responsibility of it and proved its wisdom by the results. This is the man who is said never to have lost a battle ; and why ? Because his soldiers knew that he • meant what he said,— that, with him, to will was to do— that he would rather perish than fail of accomplishing that which he had decided upon. Victory was ever perched upon his banner ; but it was because that banner was held aloft by the sturdy hand of fearless, unfaltering Decision. Ask then this great warrior, who rose from lowliness and obscurity to be the idol of one of the greatest of nations — Ask him what is the key to his suc- cess and fame ; and he will reply — “ Decision, Decision ” “ Decide ” he cries. But, you reply, “I do decido ”. Yes, but your decisions are vain, empty words — barren impulses. They never beget action or result in persever- ing effort. “If I but stamp on the ground in Italy,” said Pompey, “an army will appear”. At the voice of Peter the Hermit in the beginning of the Crusades, “ Europe arose and precipitated itself upon Asia. ” Whence came the influence and power of these men ? It lay within them. They were men of decision. Luther had made up his mind concerning somethings, and he was not to be turned aside. He felt it his duty to go to Worms, and go he would. “Though I should find there thrice as many devils as there are tiles on the housetops, I will go there” he says. This is the voice of Decision, and it is a voice that the world respects whenever it hears it. Yea more, it is the sure voice of success, I or it is one of the certitudes of this life that firm decision is tho harbinger of accomplishment. When Sir Thomas More had determined to stand by his convictions, he felt his soul relieved of a great burden and said to his son-in-law Roper “Son Roper I thank our Lord tho field is won.” The Duke of Norfolk warned him, saying — “ It is perilous striving with princes, the anger of a prince brings death. ” “ Is that all my Lord ” said More, “ then the difference between you and me is this — that I shall die to-day and you to-morrow. ” This is the stuff of which martyrs are made — it is the complacency of a man who has made up his mind as to what is right and who welcomes death in preference to being a traitor to his convictions. Many among us see individual and social evils all around. They desire reformation and join reform societies. These societies pass resolutions. But how few of the members have moral courage to stand up for their principles and to see that those resolutions are embodied in acts ? Who dares to say — “ Gome what may, I will see that, in my own life at least these, decisions shall be executed. ” And yet without this courage of ones con- victions, our lives will be as useless as they will be insipid. A decision is worse than vain, if it be not backed by the whole soul and life of the one who makes it. And this determined execution of our purposes is what we call “moral back- bone” — that which enables one to stand erect before the world and fearlessly to say “ I have done that which I believe to be right and my duty. ” Ignominy received in such a course is glory ; and death a glorious immortality. We now turn from General Grant, the man of war, to another who was pre-eminently a man of peace — whose peaceful triumphs did perhaps more for the benighted con- tinent of Africa than did General Grant’s victories of war for America. David Livingstone — the man to whom I refer — was, like Grant, a man of humble beginnings. Born of poor, but pious, parents, he was soon put into the factory to earn his own bread. Nor was he a bright 6 and clever youth. He was regarded as possessing very mediocre abilities. All who knew him, however, regarded his sterling qualities as more than a compensation for his want of brilliancy. And by these qualities of heart alone, David Livingstone made his mark in the world. And I imagine that by the future generations of Africa, no one will be more held up for love and admiration, or will receive a greater meed of praise than that hardy and indefatigable Scotchman, who freely gave himself unto death that he might open and present that dark continent to the knowledge and sympathy of the civi- lized world. If he starts from the lowest round in the ladder of fame, he climbs high and in a way that few men have climbed. For, with a stout, loving, pious heart, he leaves his beloved native land and all the comforts and amenities of home and civilization and plunges into that great continent of relentless fevers, of wild beasts and of wilder men. Unknown and unnoticed, he spends thirty of the best years of his life, during which he travels by foot many thousands of miles in regions unknown to civi- lization and 'far beyond the path of the oridinary traveller. There he endures untold bodily sufferings and often fore- goes many of the common necessaries of life. The wonderful degradation, superstition and the slavery of the people draws out his sympathy and love and nerves him for any amount of suffering and even death that thereby he may enlist the sympathies of the world in their behalf. But what, in particular, do we find in Dr. Livingstone to admire and emulate ? I will not refer to his missionary enthusiasm and unbounded Zealand piety, though in these his life is a lesson and moral. Nor will I refer to his conspicuous heroism or to his philanthropic zeal. In all these he is famous. 1 wish to emphasize the fact that he was a man possessed of an idea ; yea more, possessed by that idea. His life was pre-emiuent for its singleness of purpose. It has been often and truly said that all great men are more or less men of one idea. Ky their detractors they are said to possess and constantly to ride their hob- bies. Be it so ; the chief question after all is, what kind of an idea possesses a man, what purpose is it which he pur- sues with such relentless vigor and ceaseless endeavour? David Livingstone’s was the noblest purpose that can guide and inspire any soul — nothing leas than the uplift- ing and enlightening of a continent. He saw the unnum- bered millions of Africa bound by the chains of slavery, groaning under the grossest superstitions and most pro- found ignorance. Is it any wonder that his heart burned and his soul was consumed with the grand purpose of re- deeming, or at least of making possible the redemption of, that people ? It is not so difficult a thing as many think to find m( n of one idea ; it is only because their ideas are so low that we do not notice them; or perhaps there are so many men of that class that we do not care to observe them ! 1 can take you to-morrow to the bazaars and houses of a hundred Chetties and others in this city, to whom the all embracing topic, the ever recurring idea, the all absorbing purpose is couched in thesmall word “ rupee.” They keep that small object so close to their eyes that it shuts out the whole world besides. Their days are consumed in bartering for it and their nights spent in dreaming of it. Every other subject is measured in its importance to them by the one standard “ how much money will it bring me.” Others pursue other objects no more elevat- ing than this, and with the same persistence. What difference is there between them on the one hand, and Livingstone or the reformer Rajah Rammohun Roy on the other? Their objects are base and their purpose degrad- ing while these have an object which lifts them up into the realm of heroes and benefactors of our race. Observe Livingstone then as he is impelled by this grand life- object. It is nothing to him to spend weeks helpless in the hands of disease with none to help or comfort save untutored savages, to be nearly killed by a lion in one of those jungles and, what is perhaps hardest of all, to wan- der for years lonely and without hearing a word of his native or any civilized tongue. With the great burden of resolve upon his heart that Africa must be saved from its slavery to man and the devil, he plods as few ever did before him and suffers untold physical pain and social deprivations. And, though honor and glory and ease await him at home, he prefers to pursue his hard work for Africa in the country itself. And when, weary with the toil and disease and bodily weakness which his great work has be- queathed to him, he changes the scenes of this life for heaven above, it is in a way to impress upon the world the great object of his life and death, For his faithful atten- 8 dant finds liis cold body in the morning kneeling at the beside showing that his last act upon earth was to pray for those afflicted millions for whom he had spen this whole life. Quiet and unostentatious though he was, and though his strength and time were spent far away from the gaze of civilized eyes, his name and his praise have been sounded abroad throughout the whole world. His appre- ciative and admiring country men went in search of his remains aud rested not until they found and brought them to his native land and deposited them in Westminis- ter Abbey, that famous mausoleum of Great Britain’s choicest spirits. Though dead, he yet liveth in a preci- ous influence which is among Great Britian’s most valu- able treasures. And what does the example of this moral hero, this benefactor of a great continent, teach us ? It tells us with unmistakeable clearness to have a purpose in life. It shows that nothing elevates, inspires or accomplishes more than a lofty a and ever present object which haunts us and takes possession of us. Better to possess one good and all-obsorbing idea which you pursue to the last moment of life than a thousand others which miscarry or lie like stranded vessels on the shores of your life. The lives of most men are like the waves of the sea — they move to and fro, leap up and down, are constant froth and agitation. They aimlessly consume their own strength and subside without accomplishing anything. He, on the other hand, who has definite and lofty aim in life is like unto that small rivulet which rises at the foot of yon mountain. It quietly starts from its home on its long career to the sea. It now ripples over its pebbly bed, now tumbles over precipitous rocks, now glides smoothly and quietly through the fertile plain carrying life and health and beauty and luxuriance whereever it goes. It never rests or pauses in its long journey to the sea, but grows in strength and volume as it runs its course — now a rivulet, a stream, a torrent and finally a river upon whose broad bosom the commerce of nations are borne. Such is the life of the man who has a noble purpose. It carries him onward and onward, adding daily to his strength, giving breadth and depth to his sympathy and scattering blessings upon all sides and to all classes until his career is ended in the sea of bliss. Should wo enquire of the vast majority of our race 0 as they are about to leave this world — what good have you done in the world wherein have you improved the condition of your fellow beings what cause have you given to the world to mourn your death and to embalm vour memory with abiding gratitude ? Will they not at first be dumb, and then mourn tl e r lost opportunities and vainly long for another chance to try life that they may make amends for their past listlessness and selfiish- ness ? How many spend their days in an aimless, care- less, shiftless way. They die unregretted and unnoticed by men, simply because they were not possessed of an uplifting, inspiring idea. It is only this lofty, elevating purpose that can direct the soul to imperishable fame and immortal glory. David Livingstone’s usefulness or fame did not perish with him. Though he has been dead eleven years, the influence of his life and the inspiration of his self- denying example are doing today ten times more good to Africa than he could have done were he living. It is ever so. The man who has devoted himself to the pursuit of one great object in life can, and does, die with the peaceful assurance that, though his work may not, in itself, be finished, his life has not been spent in vain, since others will rejoice to follow in his steps. We will now turn our attention to a man who was kindred in spirit to Livingstone — who, like him, was small in means and limited in mental resources, and yet who was one of the great and representative men of modern times. I call him “ representative ” because he exhibits to the world in its brightest and intensest lustre one of the most noble and ennobling traits of character. This trait we call philanthropy or a love of man such as leads to an unselfish, self-denying life for his good. John Howard was the greatest of English philanthropists and, consequently, one of England’s first gentlemen. Shakespeare well says that. “ Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.” Emerson declares that “love will creep where it cannot go will accomplish that, by imperceptible methods — • bring ite fulcrum, lever and power — which force could never achieve. ” Sydney Smith, on one occasion, requested permission to accompany Mrs. Fry to Newgate prison. H§ -was so mbyed by the sight that he wept 10 like a child. Of this event he wrote — “There is a spectacle which London now exhibits that I will ven- ture to call the most solemn, the most Christian, the most affecting, which any being ever witnessed. To see that holy woman in the midst of the wretched prisoners, to see them soothed by her voice, anima- ted by her look, clinging to the hem of her ga; m mt and worshiping her as the only being who has ever loved them or taught them or noticed them — this is the sight that breaks down the pageant of the world.” Mrs. Fry’s love and kindness succeeded in effecting a complete reformation in the state of New Gate prison and in the conduct of its female prisoners. John Howard clid on a large scale what Mrs. Fry accomplished iu a more contracted sphere. He was a man of great sympathy and was chiefly characterized by the persistence of his love and by the character of those in behalf of whom he labored. He lived and died in the service of degraded and vice-hardened pri- soners. A century ago, when Howard lived, prisoners were considered fit subjects only for cruel torture, filthy dungeous and starvation. Howard saw this aud was led to feel it by means of an accident. As he was sailing on a voyage to Portugal, just after the great Lisbon earthquake, he and his fellow passengers fell into the hands of the French. As prisoners, they were treated with great cruelty. For two days and nights nothing was given them to eat. At length a joint of mutton was thrown into their dungeon which they had to devour like wild boasts. For a week they suffered most cruelly, compelled to lie on the floor of the horrible dungeon with nothing but straw to shelter them. Being released, Howard felt particularly called upon to begin a course of investigation of the jails of Europe, the utterly wretched condition of which and the perish- ing condition of so many prisoners moved his heart and strengthened his resolve to ameliorate the condition of the poor sufferers to such an extent that he rested not until he had liberated many. And thereafter all his pro- perty and time and strength wore consumed in alleviating the condition of this most miserable class of beings. Aftor relieving English prisoners on the continent, his attention was further directed to English prisons which were then in a frightful state. “ Prisoners were all 11 huddled together — the novice in crime and the most desperately wicked — so that jails were the hot beds of criino and mortality.” The debtor and the forger, the petty thief and the cut throat, tho dishonest girl and the prostitute were all mixed up together. Swearing and blaspheming filled the jail and tho devil was king. ” These and a thousaud other evils made the jails of all European countries a disgrace to civilization. And to remove them was the object for which Howard assidu- ously devoted the remainder of his life. He travelled constantly for the purpose of making personal inspection of the prisons of various lands. He then published volume after volume of his inquiries, by which he awoke the world to the terrible cruelties inflicted upon prisoners of all lands. This work possessed him like a passion. After doing it well in his native land — so well that almost all the prisons were reformed and the House of Commons had publicly thanked him for his self-denying and philan- thropic labors — after this, he turned his attention to prisons in other lands in Europe. Passing through perils and difficulties, which to any other man would have seemed insurmountable, he returns after a careful exami- nation of prisons of Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, Germany, Russia, Spain, Portugal and Turkey. Know- ing his zeal for the good of prisoners and his boldness in exposing all mismanagement in jails, the French Govern- ment tried to imprison him on his arrival in Paris but he escaped and pursued his course to other lands. The books which he published, giving the results of his wonderful investigations, produced a great sensation and led to remarkable changes in the conduct of European prisons. Inspired by his noble mission, he never gave himsolf rest. He travelled over 50,000 miles in this humane work and expended over 4 lacks of rupees in relieving prisoners and others in distress. Nor was this all. Dur ng the great plague in Eastern Europe and Asia, he sailed for Smyrna where the plague was raging. “ In order that he might be subjected to ti e strictest quaran- tine, he sailed from thence by a vessel infected by the plague. He was attacked by the plague and for 40 days suffered terribly alone and without help in his misery .” After recovering and going home he soon returned to continue his investigations of the plaguo. Reaching 12 Russian Tarfcary, he visited the prisoners and caught the jail fever. There alone in a foreign land he grew worse and died in his 64th year. And to one who was at his bedside he marked a spot in a grave-yard saying “ Lay me quietly in the earth, place a sundial over my grave and let me be forg’otten ” . But the world will never let this great philanthro- pist be forgotten. The statue erected to his memory in St. Paul’s cathedral is not the only tribute remaining to his humane work. Prisoners of all lands and ages will thank this noble man who stooped to help them in, and out of, their most miserable state. The higher the sun ascends in the heavens, the lower does it ra^t its rays of light and warmth into the valley beneath. So the higher one ascends in the scale of manhood, the lower does the light and warmth of his sympathy and love descend into the valley of human suffering. It is only men of the highest and best souls that can stoop to help and bless the lowest and vilest among our race. And such a lofty soul was John Howard. His loving sympathy reached to the lowest depths of personal and social degradation. And his influence did not diewith him ; for up to the present day it has continued to affect the legislationof all civilized lands. In a country like India where selfishness and self- seeking must, I fear, be called the chief vice — where every one seeks his own and not the good of others — it is our duty to point to philanthrophy and unselfiish love of others as one of the cardinal virtues ; and it is refereshing to refer to one who so exemplified this prime element of character in his own life. Selfishness is the foundation stone of barbarism, while sympathy and love are the capping of the best civilization. A country can expect to become great only so far as its people lay aside their sectionalism, mutual distrust and selfishness and develope into such humane, loving, self- denying men as Howard. Such men are a property of which any nation might well be proud. Let us now observo a man in whose career we all may be more particularly interested and whose history of great and heroic achievements has become the common property of our race — Lord Lawrence — to England, tho savior of the Punjaub and indeed of all India — but to India, tho personification of conscience and devotion to 13 duty. Like the three meu before referred to, John Lawrence showed no special promise of greatness when a boy. He possessed but ordinary talents. Still the seed of truth which was implanted in him was not without promise of growing into that strong character which in his mature days so distinguished him. Character, as we have before seen, depends not upon quantity of intellect but upon the quality of the soul itself. The quality which distinguished him during his checkered life was a loyalty to duty — a conscientious fidelity in the performance of every obligation which fell upon him. Some men make fame their idol, othei's worship the almighty rupee, while again others bow down to lust & passion ; but Duty was the divinity before which John Lawrence bowed and Conscience was his priest. “ I look”, he said, “for neither fame nor abuse. All I wish is to do my duty.” This was as conspicuous in his public, as in his private, life. Though he had many officers to appoint, he solemnly declares, and history justifies him in this declaration — that he never appointed a subordinate for any other reason than that he was the best man for the position. Nepotism or the fault of giving office to his own relatives, he was never guilty of; nor could he ever stoop to the still worse crime of making a traffic of public offices or favors. A young Indian Rajah, during the conduct of an important case in which he was interest- ed, endeavored to place in Lawrence’s hand, under the table, a bag of rupees. “ Young man ” said Lawrence “you have offered to an Englishman the greatest insult which he could posibly receive. This time, in considera- tion of your youth, I excuse it. Let me warn you, by this experience, never again to commit so gross an offence against an English gentleman. ” And why not, I add, against any gentleman ? To him his office was a most sacred trust, which nothing less than integrity and unsul- lied justice could fulfil. It is true that by this loyalty to duty he angered some friends. But they also, later on, honored him for that lofty sense of duty which would no more prostitute his trust and obligations to government for friendship’s sake than it would betray a trust imposed on him by one friend in order to do a favor to another. As a worker he was indefatigable. He never spared himself, nor could he tolerate a lazy or negligent subordi- nate. Through his sense of duty to the goventment, he 14 gathered around him as associates and subordinates only the best men who, during the trying times of the mutiny, showed their metal and are said t® have been the means of saving the country to the present government ; for, inspired by their chief, they were men who, in their turn, everywhere inspired confidence ; for they, like him, were men of principle. Nor did his sense of obligation to the government conflict with his duties to the people. They knew him to be firm and sometimes stern, and hence they called him “ Iren John ” But they knew also that a man may be firm in his determination to give as well as to exact. And such he was. If he saw to it that the people gave no less to the government than was just, he also was careful never to exact more than was right ; and he always aimed to give the people their dues and to protect them in their rights. To them his word was Jaw, for they knew he meant and would rigidly execute what he said. Like Baron Stein, “ His nay was nay without recall, His yea was yea and powerful all, He gave his yea with careful heed, His thoughts and words were well agreed. His word his bond and seal. ” And such was the sagacity which he coupled to that lofty sense of duty that the people not only obeyed him but also confided in him. And it was this confidence in his integrity, in his iron purpose to do for all that wh’ch his conscience declared to be his duty to do, that made them loyal to him in a time when loyalty meant some- thing, which converted the Punjaub in those day* of terror into a strength rather than a weakness to the British Empire, and which enabled him to re-establish order and safety among a disorganized and turbulent people. John Lawrence was not a perfect man by any means; but in this one most vital matter of loyalty and devotion to conscience and duty which he owed to govern- ment and people — classes and individuals — he did not waver. His strength lay precisely here and this was the principal source of his great and benign influence in India and England. Men may question his sagacity, they may deny him greatness of intellect and depth of sympathy, but, in loyalty to conscience and in devotion to duty, he undoubtedly stands high among the great 15 souls of the world. His brother, Sir Henry Lawrence, was a man of similar characteristics. And those who best knew and appreciated him inscribed upon his simple tombstone at buck now these truthful words suggested by himself. “ Here lies Henry Lawrence who tried to do his duty. ” Simple though it be what higher fame can one desire ? And when, six years ago. Lord Lawrence himself died, it was suggested by one who saw the hurried funeral of Sir Henry Lawrence beneath storms of shot and shell that the inscription upon Lord Lawrence’s tomb in Westminister Abbey should be the more truthful counter- part of that of his brother and that it read. — “Here lies John Lawrence who did his duty to the last.” No greater meed of praise can be rendered man than for the world to recognize him as an exemplification of duty and an embodiment of conscience. I called this devotion to duty a “trait of character;” we may even regard it as the sum-total of character ; for “duty” easily embraces all that enters into true manhood. In these days of corruption and venality — when men are ready to barter their character and their very souls away for fame and money — when the siren voices of wealth, position and luxury lure men into all kinds of sin it is well to remember, with John Lawrence, that there is a voice which is higher and more sacred than all others — the voice of Conscience ; that there is a paradise upon earth infinitely happier than that of wealth, of fame or of indulgence, yea more blissful than all these put together — it is the paradise of duty. “A duty done” say one “ is the soul’s fireside. ” It is the germ of infinite bliss. And he who allows himself, whether in the prose- cution of public duties, or in the discharge of private ones to swerve one hair's breadth from the path which cons- cience dictates — be it from expediency, selfishness or cupudity — thereby degrades hie own manhood and loses his claim to the respect of men. Like the old Danish hero we must determine “to dare nobly, to will strongly, and never to faulter in the path of duty.” General Washington once said “There is little or nothing in this life worth living for; but we can all of us go straight forward and do our duty.” Lord Nelson’s famous watch- word to his men — “ England expects every man to do his duty” — was surpassed only by these last words that came from his lips — “ I haye done my duty; I praise God for 16 it" — no empty boasting either, as all who have read his history will testify. The officers and men of the ship Birkenhead, seeing that she was a wreck, in haste caused all the women and children to embark in the boats, and then firing a salute of joy went down with the sinking Vessel. Of this Robertson writes — •“ Yes ! Goodness, Duty, Sacrifice — these are the qualities that England honors. She gapes and wonders every now and then like an awkward peasant at some other things, but nothing stirs her heart down to its central deeps universally and. long except the Right. She known how to teach her sons to sink like men amidst sharks and billows without parade, without display, as if Duty were the most natural thing in the world." This then, my fi’iends, is our privilege and the de- mands of our highest and best nature — the demands of society upon us, viz., that we carefully search out the path of duty and boldly walk in it. We must obey implicitly the voice of conscience though it bring us face to face with death. Even in that extremity we could say with the great Pompey when he was embrak from Rome — “ It is necessary for me to go ( i . e. to do my duty) but it is not necessary that I should live." Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen — I think I have presented to you a few of the elements of a true and noble character such as we all can and should possess. These are by no means all that can be mentioned, nor are the men referred to perhaps the only or the best repre- sentatives of these traits. But it is enough if I have called your attention to these few elementary wants of every true man and I shall be more than pleased if I can think that it will lead you not only to consider, but also to act upon, the models presented to you. And, in closing, I will simply refer to one other essen- tial of a great and, perfect, character and that is piety — ■ the fulfilling of one's obligation to God. Because all know this to be essential, and because it underlies and permeates the whole fabric of every true character, I need only refer to it and with this reference close my lecture. — * — — A