CHAPTER XXIXBe Hopeful

“golden charm that bindsThe happy souls above,And he’s an heir of heaven that findsHis bosom glow with love.”

“golden charm that binds

The happy souls above,

And he’s an heir of heaven that finds

His bosom glow with love.”

CHAPTER XXIXBe Hopeful

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XXIX

By H. L. Hastings

Hope leads from goal to goal,And opens still, and opens on the soul;Till lengthen’d on to faith, and unconfin’d,It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.—Pope.

Hope leads from goal to goal,

And opens still, and opens on the soul;

Till lengthen’d on to faith, and unconfin’d,

It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.

—Pope.

Where there is no hope, there can be no endeavor or caution.

—Johnson.

Owls hoot in the night; larks sing in the morning. The children of darkness riot and groan in their gloom. The children of light have “Songs in the night,” (Job 35:10), and “Joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5). God stands by those who stand by Him. If you hope in God, your hopes will never fail. He promises us the life that now is, and that which is to come. He can make this life a life of gladness, and the everlasting life a life of endless peace and pleasure.

“Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.” (Romans 15:13).

H. L. Hastings

CHAPTER XXIXBe Hopeful

Life properly belongs to the hopeful. It has been said that a pessimist is one who has the choice of two evils and takes them both. A discouraged man is defeated before he begins. When a boy, Peter Cooper had few school privileges. His father being a hatter, he was set to work pulling the hair from rabbit skins to obtain material with which to make hats. His health was poor and though having but “half a chance,” at seventeen he resolved to work for himself. At this time he was living at Peekskill. Thence he went to New York, where he apprenticed himself to a carriage-maker for five years for board and two dollars a month. He had neither time nor money for what the world calls pleasure, but he had the pleasure of hope. While working for fifty cents a week he resolved: “If ever I get rich I will build a place where the poor boys and girls of New York may have an education free.” He then entered the grocery trade and made some money; then a glue factory, where he became rich. In 1854 the object of his hope was commenced and finished at a cost of $800,000. “The great object that I desire to accomplish,” said he, “by the erection of this institution is to open the avenues of scientific knowledge to the youth of our city and country, and so unfold the volume of nature that the youth may see the beauties of creation, enjoy its blessings and learn to love the Authorfrom whom cometh every good and perfect gift.” It is a source of consolation to know that, in whatever circumstance a boy may be placed, there is, amidst the desolate and cheerless scenes a harbinger of comfort, a helm to keep his course in the right channel, and a north star on which to fix his eyes, namely, hope. Without it, the world would be desert and man the most wretched of all God’s creatures. With it, aspiration clings to some tangible reality as the ivy’s tendril to the oak. There may be failures, but hope believes in final success. It whispers, “nothing is impossible;” smiles serenely on the struggling, sustains the aspiring and cheers with a vivacity of assurance that portends success. As such it lit the lantern upon the ship of Columbus, waved the torch before Bacon as he descended into Nature’s laboratory, supported the steps of Newton when he wandered into the dim solitude of unknown worlds, sprinkled the canvas of Titian with purple lines of summer, sent Watts’ engine snorting along the rails and Fulton’s steamboat puffing up the Hudson.

Hope is a beautiful word. Its definition makes every bosom bound and burn. It is called “Music to the ear of the young;” “health to the sick;” “the birthright of all;” “the soul’s most effective impulse,” and a “glorious expectation.” To the warrior it is the victor’s wreath, amulet and medal of honor. To the student it means the bench, platform, pulpit, or some other exalted position. To the Christian it means more. So intimately is it associated with practical godliness that religion is called “A hope through grace,” (2 Thess. 2:16) “a glorious hope,” “a better hope,” (Heb. 7:19) “a blessed hope” and “a lively hope.” (1 Peter 1:3). The Christian’s God is named the “God of Hope,”Jesus Christ, “Our Hope,” (1 Tim. 1:1) and His finished work “the hope set before us in the Gospel.”

General Grant once said to a personal friend that his habit of day-dreaming, a kind of large and persistent hoping, had never left him. In his earlier life he had resigned from the army and things had been going steadily against him. He was working on a farm near St. Louis, from which he used to carry wood to the city for sale, and then ride back in the empty cart. It was a favorite sort of hoping dream of his, as he rode homeward, to think of himself with Mrs. Grant making a tour of Europe, and of himself as an officer in the army. Foolish enough such hoping seemed for a poor farmer jogging homeward in the evening. But that hope was inspiration to him, and at last the reality of it all burst the bounds of his most daring dreaming. Hoping thus, even in Grant’s circumstances, was vastly better than a weak bewailing of his hard and unpromising plight. It is a noteworthy fact that all through the war, everyone of Grant’s utterances and dispatches had in it this note of hope. There could not be found a shadow of a suggestion of despair or of ultimate defeat. Hope, to him, as to thousands, was a stimulating factor.

Like every other good thing hope has many symbols. Watson said: “Hope is like the cork to the net, which keeps the soul from sinking in despair.” “It is to man,” said Felthan, “as a bladder to a learning swimmer, it keeps him from sinking in the bosom of the waves and by that help he may attain the exercise.” “Hope,” says Howe, “is the engine that moves the world and keeps the intelligent part of it in action everywhere.” But in the Scriptures it is symbolized as an anchor: “Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul.”

When David was sad he said to himself: “Hope thou in God.” What volumes of thought these words contain. “Hope” and “God” and the word “thou” linking them together. “Hopethouin God.” That boy who places his trust in God is never hopeless. Airy fancies may seek to allure him, treacherous vices may endeavor to beguile him, but hope flits eternal around the human head and breast, and hangs its rainbow on the blackest cloud in all the chaste sparklings of an angel from the realms of light. To give up hope is to give up the beauty of life. It was only when Paradise was lost that Milton makes Satan exclaim: “Then farewell hope,” and immediately thereafter, as always the case, he adds: “Evil, be thou my good.”

Paul said in regard to hope, “Sure and steadfast.” Like the anchor whose flukes get fast beneath the moveless rocks, holding the vessel to its moorings in spite of the storm, so hope whispers these magic words of joy, when waves of calamity and sorrow would engulf in the vortex of despair, “sure and steadfast.” Why? Because the cable that holds the anchorhopeisfaithand the rock that holds the flukes of the anchor isChrist, and the reason we believe it is sure, is because the Word of God says so, for His Word is “Yea and amen to him that believeth.” We believe because millions have tested and proved it.

Now anchors are not so much needed in mid-ocean, for the water is deep, the rocks far down, and the reefs distant, so that with a storm before or behind, the ocean craft could smile and say, “I can race as fast as you can drive.” It is when nearing the coast that extra care is taken and the anchor held in readiness, for should a storm arise it might dash the ship upon the rocks, run it upon a reef or strand it upon the shore.Nor is the anchor of hope so much needed in the mid-ocean of prosperity, peace and the fulness of God’s love as it is near the shore when we start in the Christian life and labor.

Without thissureanchor many a boy has drifted on the rock of scepticism. When the little “squall” of laughter and “windy” arguments were brought to bear against them, they forgot their promises and gradually drifted upon this disastrous rock. No boy’s anchor is secure who reads literature saturated with atheistical sentiments or keeps the company of infidel characters. Heinrich Heine the sceptic was proof of this. One day a friend called to see him, when suffering torments from a disease of the spine. He said: “If I could only walk on crutches, do you know where I would go? Straight to church.” “You jest,” the friend said. “No, no, straight to the church,” replied the former scoffer; “my friend, believe me, it is Heinrich Heine who tells you. After having reflected on it for years, and after having reconsidered and maturely weighed what has been written on this subject by men of all sorts, believe me, I have reached a conclusion that there is a God who judges our conduct, and that after this life there is another, when the good will be rewarded and the wicked punished. There are fools, who, having passed their lives in scepticism and mistake, and denied God in their words and acts, have not courage to own that they are wholly deceived. As for me,” he said sadly and almost hopelessly, “I feel compelled to declare that it is a cursed falsehood which long made me blind. Only at present I see clearly; and any man who knows me must confess that it is not because my faculties have become weak, for never was my mind more clear and strong than it is this moment.”

Without thissureandsteadfastanchor many boys have drifted upon the reefs of temptation. An unanchored ship may lie on the waters as calmly and beautifully as in a painted picture, but almost before one realizes, the undercurrent carries it away, and a sudden jar, a terrible crash informs the captain it has stranded on a reef or struck a rock. So, too, hundreds of boys have been ruined in like manner, not by the gales of adversity, or strong winds of persecution, but by the undercurrents of strong temptations.

What Paul said of those who live by faith may be said of all boys. “These were tempted.” Temptations are with kings in their castles and peasants in the field. “They come,” says one, “of plenty, they are born of success and they are born of defeat.” They are not in themselves sins, but temptations become sin when the tempted one welcomes and yields to them. Temptations resemble the rocks which rest their jagged sides above the waves at low water. No vessel dare come near them. But after a while the tide comes sweeping into the bay and buries the rocks under a flood of water so that the largest ships as well as the lightest skiffs may ride in safety above their teeth of death. We cannot hinder temptation from coming to us, but we can refuse to heed it. How?

A story is told of a man who once asked an Eastern king if he could tell him how to avoid temptation. The king advised the man to take a vessel brimful of oil and carry it through the streets of the city without spilling a drop. “If one drop is spilt, your head shall be cut off.” Two executioners were ordered with drawn swords to walk behind the man, and carry out his orders. There happened to be a fair going on in the town, and the streets were crowded with people.However, the man was very careful, and he returned to the King without having spilled one drop of oil. Then the king asked: “Did you see anyone whilst you were walking through the streets?” “No, I was thinking only of the oil, I noticed nothing else.” “Then,” said the king, “you may know how to avoid temptation. Fix your mind firmly on God as you fixed it on that vessel of oil.”

Thank God, this hope in Christ “is sure and steadfast.” You may be struck “all aback,” or, as Theodore Cuyler said, “may be stripped of many a topsail which ambition has hoisted or many a spar of prosperity; you may be obliged to throw out much of your lading into the sea; but if Jesus Christ is in your soul, you cannot suffer wreck.” The anchor “sure and steadfast” will hold you, under every circumstance, in every storm, and in every trial.

There is a fable told by Homer of a Grecian boy who was pursued by a giant, whose breath was fire and in whose hand was a huge club. Two invisible beings assisted the pursued lad. One took his hand and lifted him forward, the other, casting an invisible cord over him, flew before him until his speed was doubled and the palace gates gave shelter. This is a beautiful representation of God’s gentle rule over us. O, my boy, when the enemy of your soul seeks to enslave or allure you into a trap, some invisible power will aid you to avoid and escape him. When all appears dark and gloomy, looking up, one sees a beautiful sky and hears the lark break forth in song. When discouraged and bowed down with grief he needs but listen to hear the Saviour whispering, “Hope on, hope continually, hope thou in God for ‘the Lord will be the hope of His people.’” And looking up he then can say:

“O Hope of every contrite heart!O Joy of all the meek!To those who ask, how kind Thou art!How good, to those who seek!”

“O Hope of every contrite heart!

O Joy of all the meek!

To those who ask, how kind Thou art!

How good, to those who seek!”

CHAPTER XXXBe Faithful

INTRODUCTION TO CHAPTER XXX

By Opie Rodway

I’m not ashamed to own my Lord,Or to defend His cause;Maintain the honor of His word,The glory of His cross.Watts.

I’m not ashamed to own my Lord,

Or to defend His cause;

Maintain the honor of His word,

The glory of His cross.

Watts.

Be faithful to yourself. See to it that you repent of sin, that you forsake it, that you go to Christ the great sin-bearer, that you get a new heart, that you live a holy life.

Be faithful to your companions. Tell them what they ought to be. Tell them of Jesus who alone can save them.

Be faithful to Christ. Say: “Jesus only.” Jesus my Lord and Master. Jesus my Saviour and Example. Jesus, my “all in all.” If you would have an approving Saviour and Judge, be faithful.

“Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life.”

Yes to the goodness of Christ Opie Rodway.

CHAPTER XXXBe Faithful

Life may be compared to this book in two respects. First, it has a beginning, second, an end. It must not be measured, however, by the number of years one lives as we would number the pages of this book, for “length of years is no proper test of length of life.” But life must be measured by what one feels, thinks and does. In the matchless phrase of Paul: “To live is Christ.”

The exhortation of this chapter is beautifully illustrated by many characters of the Bible and history. Hananiah, “a faithful man;” Timothy, “faithful in the Lord;” Tychius and Epaphras, “faithful ministers;” Onesimus and Silvanus, “faithful brothers,” and Antipas, “a faithful martyr.” Julius Palmer in Queen Mary’s time, being asked to recant his faith in Christ, said that he rather would yield his life. Latimer said that Smithfield had long groaned for him, but he had prayed that he might be firm in death. When the hour of execution came, he knelt and prayed, and, as the flames shot up about him, he cried: “Father of heaven, receive my soul.”

In the first century lived a boy by the name of Polycarp. He was taught by John the Apostle. After embracing the Christian religion he studied to preach and finally became a bishop. Persecution soon raged against the followers of Christ and this man was arrested. On the way to court, Irenarch, Herod and hisfather Nicetes met him. They took him into their chariot and counseled him: “What harm is it to say ‘Lord Cæsar’ and to sacrifice and be safe?” Polycarp replied, “I will not follow your advice,” whereupon they thrust him from the chariot, bruising his thigh. At the Stadium the procunsul urged him: “Swear and I will release thee.” “Reproach Christ!” rejoined Polycarp, “eighty and six years have I served Him, and He has never wronged me, and how can I blaspheme my King who hath saved me?” “Swear by the fortune of Cæsar,” cried the procunsul. “If you still vainly contend to make me swear by the fortune of Cæsar,” said Polycarp, “affecting an ignorance of my real character, hear me frankly declare what I am. I am a Christian.” “I will have wild beasts,” cried the procunsul, “I will expose you to them unless you repent.” “Call them,” replied Polycarp. “I will tame your spirit by fire, since you despise the wild beasts, unless you repent,” said the officer. “You threaten,” answered Polycarp, “with fire that burns for a moment, and is then extinct, but you are ignorant of the future judgment, and the fire of eternal punishment reserved for the ungodly. But why delay? Do as you please.” Saying this he was led away and burnt at the stake, which he made memorable by one of the most beautiful prayers ever uttered.

A Roman Emperor said to a Greek architect, “Build me a grand coliseum, and if it suits me, I will crown you in the presence of my people, and I will make a great day of festival on your account.” The architect did the work magnificently. The day for opening arrived. In the coliseum were the emperor and the architect. The former arose, amid the plaudits of a vast assembly, and said, “We have gathered here to-day to open this coliseum, and to honor the Greek architect. It is a great day for the Roman Empire. Let thisbuilding be prosperous, and let honor be put on the Greek architect. O! we must have a festival day. Bring out those Christians and let them be put to death at the mouth of the lions!”

The Christians were put in the center of the amphitheater. It was to be a great celebration in their destruction. Then the lions, hungry and three-fourths starved, were let out of their dens in the side of the amphitheater, and they came forth with mighty spring to destroy and rend the Christians, and all the galleries shouted, “Huzza! Huzza! Long live the Emperor!” Then the Greek architect arose in one of the galleries, and shouted until, in the vast assemblage, all heard him, “I, too, am a Christian!”

They seized him in their fury and flung him to the wild beasts, until his body, bleeding and dead, was tumbled over and over again in the dust of the amphitheater. He was “faithful unto death!”

Many boys start well in the Christian life, but in a brief time stray away. They put their hand to the plow but soon look back. They boil over with enthusiasm while the interest is at white heat, but when trials and ridicule come they follow Christ at a distance. They renounce the world for a season, but like Demas soon come to it again. Many who have at some time been numbered with the saints have later, like Judas, turned out to be betrayers.

Benedict Arnold battled nobly for the American colonies, but he blackened his fair name beyond the power of rehabilitation when he plotted to secure and betray West Point. It is pathetic to read of his last hours in London when he donned his old American uniform, put on the insignia that Washington gave him after his victory at Saratoga, and said: “Let me die in this olduniform in which I fought my battles. May God forgive me for ever putting on any other.”

This reminds us of Esau’s remorse when he lost his chieftainship, and the despair of Judas after selling his Master. Infidelity to trust is an awful sin. Unfaithfulness is inexcusable and often brings with it direst penalty. It is a gradually increasing sin. There is first a lack of love to God. Then, like Peter on the sea and Elijah under the juniper tree, disbelief creeps into the heart, earnestness is lost, unwatchfulness results, joy vanishes and unholy living follows. In the end, unless there is a returning to God like the prodigal son to his father, death becomes sad and eternity awful.

Faithfulness is a beautiful and noble characteristic, which never fails to bring respect and honor. Fame comes only to a few, but faithfulness should actuate the life of every boy. Latour D’Auberque was only a private soldier who defended alone a fort in a mountain pass against a regiment of Austrian soldiers. He knew it was important that the Austrian army should not pass through this mountain defile, and he hastened to inform the garrison of their approach. When he arrived he found the soldiers had deserted, leaving their guns.

D’Auberque loaded rapidly and fired upon the advancing regiment, causing fearful havoc. For one hour he kept the Austrians at bay. Finally he raised a flag and sounded a bugle, thus announcing the fort would surrender if the garrison should be permitted to carry out their arms and depart in safety. The proposition was accepted, and D’Auberque took his arms full of guns and marched out alone. “Where are the others?” cried the Austrians. “There are no others,” replied the brave grenadier. “I defended the fort alone.”The Austrians threw their caps in the air and shouted “Hurrah!” They honored the man who could and would stand alone, though many of their comrades had fallen under his fire. When Napoleon heard of the brave action, he offered to make him an officer, but D’Auberque refused to accept. One day he was killed in battle. Whenever after the roll was called, a grenadier, by the command of Napoleon, stepped forward and answered, “Dead on the field of honor.”

When John was banished by the cruel Domitian to the isle of Patmos, he had a vision in which he was commanded to write to the pastor of the church in Smyrna concerning many things. He closed his letter with these words: “Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” What a promise! No other person ever offered such a reward with such a condition. Faithfulness must characterize the aspirant, not for a few days, months or years, but “unto death.” Then there are no terrors for the Christian. As the bee loses its power to hurt when its sting has been removed, so death had no sting for the child of God. It lost its power to harm when Christ died for us.

It was about three hundred and fifty years ago that a martyrdom took place, long considered legendary, but which was verified in 1853. An Arab baby was taken by Spanish soldiers and brought to Oran to be sold as a slave. The good Vicar-general, Juan Caro, bought him and named him Geronimo. When he was eight years of age, some Arab slaves escaped from Oran, and, thinking to do the boy a kindness, took him with them. For years he lived with his people as a Mahometan, but the holy faith which through Juan Caro had beenplanted in the boy’s heart had taken firm root and could not be destroyed. For twenty-five years he remained with them and then ran away and returned to the Vicar-general. “Because I wished to live henceforth in the faith of the Divine Saviour,” he said, “I returned to you.” Juan Caro was delighted. He received the young Arab as a lost child.

Soon after he entered the Spanish Guard as a soldier and after performing many brave acts received a high military position. He married and for ten years nothing but happiness shone into his life. He won the respect and confidence of all. He was Juan Caro’s right hand man, and his wife was a daughter to his adopted father. One bright May day in 1569 news came to Oran that a small Arab encampment was a short distance away. The rumor did not seem important. A handful of Spaniards could easily manage the Arabs, at least so thought Geronimo. Taking nine soldiers he manned a little boat and rowed out of the safe harbor and along the blue sea past the coral fishery of Mers-el-Kebir. Suddenly two Moorish brigantines which had been lying in wait chased and ran them down. The nine soldiers escaped but Geronimo, who was a marked man, was seized and carried to Euldij Ali, the Calabrian renegade. A great cry spread among the Arabs through Algeria that the apostate was captured. The Moors who knew his history made a solemn vow that they would restore him to his old religion. For this they sent Marabouts to convert him with arguments and fair promises, but they returned discomfited to Euldij Ali. Another method was now tried. Geronimo was loaded with chains, treated with the utmost cruelty and when faint from torture and scarcely able to speak, the Marabouts stood around him offering him liberty, power, honor and riches. No offer, however, made him deny his faith, no longing for freedom made himforswear for one single moment his religion. Once, after some most horrible threats, he raised his poor suffering head, and with a voice so weak it could scarcely be heard, he said, “They think they will make me a Mahometan, but that they shall never do, even if they kill me.”

For four months Euldij Ali gloated over the daily tortures he was inflicting on Geronimo. At last the sameness of cruelty palled upon him, and he was determined to invent a new and more hideous revenge for the stubbornness of his captive. One morning the desired idea came to him. Examining the works of a fort by the gate of Bab-el-Oned, he saw a block of beton standing by the great stones. This block was a mould in the shape of the immense stones, filled with a kind of concrete. When the concrete was sufficiently hardened, the wall was to be built with it.

Here was the height of torture. Here was the most exquisitely painful death man might devise! The dog of a slave should be laid in a similar mould, the liquid plaster poured over him, and the renegade, built alive into the wall, should be converted into stone. Calling a mason he said: “Michel, you see this empty mould of beton? For the present leave it. I have a mind to make beton of that dog of Oran who refuses to come back to the faith of Islam.”

The poor mason finished his day’s work with a sad heart. As soon as he entered the prison where Geronimo was a captive he informed him of Euldij Ali’s intention. Geronimo calmly answered, “God’s holy will be done. Let not those miserable men think they will frighten me out of the faith of Christ by the idea of this cruel death. May my blessed Saviour only pardon my sins, and preserve my soul.”

The whole of that night the brave young Arab spent in prayer and preparation for the tortures which heknew were awaiting him. Between two and three o’clock the next morning a guard summoned him to the Pasha’s presence, where stood a great multitude of Turks and Arabs in their gorgeous robes. He was then dragged to the gate of Bab-el-Oned, being beaten all the way. Euldij Ali addressed him slowly and clearly. He pointed out every detail of the fearful death, showed him the block of beton, and then said: “Do you still refuse to return to the faith of Islam?” “I am a Christian, and as a Christian I will die,” was Geronimo’s answer. “As you will,” replied the Pasha. Pointing to the beton, he said, “Then here shall you be buried alive.” “Do your will. Death shall not make me abandon my faith.” The Pasha raised his hand. The soldiers stepped forward and removed the chain from the prisoner’s leg. His hands were bound behind his back, his legs crossed and tied together. Then, lifting the poor man, they laid him face downward in the mould. A renegade Spaniard named Tamango, desiring to show what a fervent Mahometan he was, jumped on Geronimo’s body and broke his ribs. This act so pleased Euldij Ali that others followed his example. The plaster was then poured over him, and the brave Christian was suffocated.

Three hundred years later the noble Arab’s martyrdom was brought to light and the story verified. In the museum of Algiers is the cast. It shows a slight figure, a face with veins all swollen, a poor mouth closed with a patient determined expression, hands tied, legs swollen, even the broken ribs are distinguished. He was “faithful unto death.”

When Petrarch was crowned at Rome, it was by the supreme magistrate of the Republic. Twelve youthswere arrayed in scarlet. Six representatives of the most illustrious families, in green robes, with garlands of flowers, witnessed the scene. When the laurel crown was placed on his head, the magistrate said, “This is the reward of merit.” And the people shouted, “Long live the poet.” But you, my boy, if faithful to the end shall be crowned in the presence of all the high dignitaries of heaven, by King Jesus, with a crown that fadeth not away, and a radiance that vies with the brightness of blazing suns as they run their eternal course.

My boy, with what better exhortation can this volume close than, “Be faithful”? Being the architects of your own weal or woe, be courageous like Joshua, self-reliant like Nehemiah, obedient like Abraham, persevering like Jacob, decisive like Moses, administrative like Solomon, above reproach like Daniel, long suffering like Paul, self-disciplined like David, prayerful like Elijah, masters of passions like Joseph, bold like Peter, self-surrendered like Noah, Godlike like Enoch, faith-acting like Abel, and in all things, with all persons, at all time exemplify the spirit of the Christ.

Be faithful. Faithful to your Christian profession, faithful to your church, faithful to Christ, faithful under all circumstances and in all places, faithful unto death. Above the grave of his hero Homer inscribed the words, “He was a brave man.” Above his hero Plato wrote, “He was a wise man.” Above his hero Alcibiades said, “He was a rich man,” but the motto for the Christian’s tomb is that which is sculptured beneath Lincoln’s great name and which he wished above all things history might write of him: “He was faithful.” And that of Rev. Henry Weston Smith, who was killed by the Indianswhile on his way from Deadwood, Dakota, to preach at Crook City, “Faithful unto death.”

When Allen K. Capron was killed at Las Guasimas, his father lifted the hat that covered his face, and said, “Well done, my boy.” May others say of you, “He was faithful,” and may Christ say to you, “Well done!”

“Here’s a hand to the boy who has courageTo do what he knows to be right.When he falls in the way of temptation,He has a hard battle to fight.Who strives against self and his comradesWill find a most powerful foe;All honor to him if he conquers;A cheer for the boy who says, ‘No!’“There’s many a battle fought dailyThe world knows nothing about.There’s many a brave young soldierWhose strength puts a legion to rout.And he who fights sin single-handedIs more of a hero, I sayThan he who leads soldiers to battle,And conquers by arms in the fray.“Be steadfast, my boy, when you’re tempted,And do what you think to be right;Stand firm by the colors of manhood,And you will o’ercome in the fight.‘The right’ be your battle-cry everIn waging the warfare of life;And God, who knows who are the heroes,Will give you the strength for the strife.”

“Here’s a hand to the boy who has courage

To do what he knows to be right.

When he falls in the way of temptation,

He has a hard battle to fight.

Who strives against self and his comrades

Will find a most powerful foe;

All honor to him if he conquers;

A cheer for the boy who says, ‘No!’

“There’s many a battle fought dailyThe world knows nothing about.There’s many a brave young soldierWhose strength puts a legion to rout.And he who fights sin single-handedIs more of a hero, I sayThan he who leads soldiers to battle,And conquers by arms in the fray.

“There’s many a battle fought daily

The world knows nothing about.

There’s many a brave young soldier

Whose strength puts a legion to rout.

And he who fights sin single-handed

Is more of a hero, I say

Than he who leads soldiers to battle,

And conquers by arms in the fray.

“Be steadfast, my boy, when you’re tempted,And do what you think to be right;Stand firm by the colors of manhood,And you will o’ercome in the fight.‘The right’ be your battle-cry everIn waging the warfare of life;And God, who knows who are the heroes,Will give you the strength for the strife.”

“Be steadfast, my boy, when you’re tempted,

And do what you think to be right;

Stand firm by the colors of manhood,

And you will o’ercome in the fight.

‘The right’ be your battle-cry ever

In waging the warfare of life;

And God, who knows who are the heroes,

Will give you the strength for the strife.”

“My Pledge.”

I WILLKeep to the right as the law directs,Keep from the world my friends’ defects.Keep all my thoughts on the purest themes,Keep from my eyes the motes and beams.Keep true my deeds, my honor bright,Keep firm my faith in God and right.Keep free from every sin and stain,Keep from the ways that bring me pain.Keep free my tongue from words of ill,Keep right my aim, and good my will.Keep all my acts from passion free,Keep strong my hope, no envy see.Keep watchful care o’er tongue and hand.Keep firm my feet, by justice stand.Keep true my word, a sacred thing,Keep from the snares the tempters bring.Keep faith with each I call a friend,Keep full in view the final end.Keep firm my courage, bold and strong,Keep up the right and down the wrong.Keep well the words of wisdom’s school,Keep warm by night, by day keep cool.

I WILL

Keep to the right as the law directs,

Keep from the world my friends’ defects.

Keep all my thoughts on the purest themes,

Keep from my eyes the motes and beams.

Keep true my deeds, my honor bright,

Keep firm my faith in God and right.

Keep free from every sin and stain,

Keep from the ways that bring me pain.

Keep free my tongue from words of ill,

Keep right my aim, and good my will.

Keep all my acts from passion free,

Keep strong my hope, no envy see.

Keep watchful care o’er tongue and hand.

Keep firm my feet, by justice stand.

Keep true my word, a sacred thing,

Keep from the snares the tempters bring.

Keep faith with each I call a friend,

Keep full in view the final end.

Keep firm my courage, bold and strong,

Keep up the right and down the wrong.

Keep well the words of wisdom’s school,

Keep warm by night, by day keep cool.

My Symphony.

“To live content with small means, to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly, to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never;—in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony.”

William Henry Channing.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTESPageChanged fromChanged to111The practice is unfit a scholar or a gentleman.The practice is unfit for a scholar or a gentleman.Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling.Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

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