Lives of Distinguished North Carolinians, with Illustrations and Speeches

by Unknown

But however earnestly you are thus exhorted to diligence, let it not be forgotten that diligence itself is but a subordinate quality, and derives its chief value from the end to which it is directed and the motives by which it is impelled. It is diligence in a good cause only that is commendable. The first great maxim of human conduct, that which it is all-important to impress on the understandings of young men, and recommend to their hearty adoption is, above all things, in all circumstances, and under every emergency, to preserve a clean heart and an honest purpose. Integrity, firm, determined integrity, is that quality which, of all others, raises man to the highest dignity of his nature, and fits him to adorn and bless the sphere in which he is appointed to move. Without it, neither genius nor learning, neither the gifts of God, nor human exertions, can avail aught for the accomplishment of the great objects of human existence. Integrity is the crowning virtue—integrity is the pervading principle which ought to regulate, guide, control, and vivify every impulse, desire, and action. Honesty is sometimes spoken of as a vulgar virtue; and perhaps that honesty, which barely refrains from outraging the positive rules ordained by society for the protection of property, and which ordinarily pays its debts and performs its engagements, however useful and commendable a quality, is not to be numbered among the highest efforts of human virtue. But that integrity which, however tempting the opportunity, or however secure against detection, no selfishness nor resentment, no lust of power, place, favor, profit or pleasure can cause to swerve from the strict rule of right, is the perfection of man's moral nature. In this sense the poet was right when he pronounced an honest man the noblest work of God. It is almost inconceivable what an erect and independent spirit this high endowment communicates to man, and what a moral intrepidity and vivifying energy it imparts to his character. There is a family alliance between all the virtues, and perfect integrity is always followed by a train of goodly qualities, frankness, benevolence, humanity, patriotism, promptness to act, and patience to endure. In moments of public need, these indicate the man who is worthy of universal confidence. Erected on such a basis, and built up of such materials, fame is enduring. Such is the fame of our Washington, of the man "inflexible to ill and obstinately just." While, therefore, other monuments, intended to perpetuate human greatness, are daily mouldering into dust, and belie the proud inscriptions which they bear, the solid granite pyramid of his glory lasts from age to age, imperishable, seen afar off, looming high over the vast desert, a mark, a sign, and a wonder for the wayfarers through this pilgrimage of life.

A nice sense of integrity cannot, therefore, be too early cherished, or too sedulously cultivated. In the very dawnings of life occasions are presented for its exercise. Within these walls temptations every day occur, when temporary advantage solicits a deviation from the rule of right. In the discharge of the various duties which you owe to your companions, let no petty selfishness be indulged, no artifices practiced, by which you are to escape from your fair share of labor, inconvenience or contribution, or any one deprived of the full measure of whatever he may rightfully claim. Cultivate singleness of purpose and frankness of demeanor, and hold in contempt whatever is sordid, disingenuous, cunning or mean. But it is when these peaceful shades shall have been left behind, and the fitful course of busy life begun, that seductions will be presented under every form by which inexperience, infirmity of purpose, and facility of disposition, can be waylaid. Then is the crisis of the young man's fate—then is the time to take his stand, to seize his vantage ground. If he can then defy the allurements of cupidity, sensuality and ambition, the laugh of fools, the arts of parasites, and the contagion of improbity, then indeed, may he hope,

"In sight of mortal and immortal powers,
As in a boundless theatre to run
The great career of justice—
And through the mists of passion and of sense,
And through the tossing tide of chance and pain
To hold his course unfaltering."

You, my young friends, who are standing at the threshold, and waiting with eager impatience the signal for entrance upon life, must not think that I mean to alarm you with idle fears because I thus warn you of the approaching conflict. The enraged bull may close his eyes before he rushes upon his foe, but rational courage calmly surveys danger, and then deliberately prepares and determines to encounter it. Apprised of your peril, and armed for the encounter, enter on your course with resolved hearts, and fear not for the issue.

So sweet are the notes of human praise, and so abhorrent the tones of reproach, that it is among the highest efforts of magnanimity to pursue the straightforward course of duty, without being turned aside by commendation or reproof, by flattery or calumny. Whatever be our journey through life, like the princess in the eastern tale, ascending the mountain in search of the wondrous bird, we are sure to hear around us the confused sounds of blandishment and solicitation, or menace and insult, until with many of us, the giddy head is turned, and we are converted into monuments of warning to those who are to follow life's adventure. Rare, indeed, is that moral courage which, like the prudent Parizade, closes its ears against the impression of these sounds, and casts not an eye behind until its destined course be accomplished. Rare, however, as may be this excellence, and in its perfection perhaps unattainable, there can be no true dignity and decision of character without a near approach to it. Let youth be ever modest, ever deferential to the counsels, the suggestions and the claims of others. But in matters of right and wrong, whatever be the lures, the taunts, or the usages of the world, or whatever the supposed inconveniences of singularity, let judgment and conscience always rule with absolute sway. Carry this maxim with you through life, whatever be the station you are to occupy, or the business you are to pursue; and carry with it another kindred maxim—rely for success in your undertakings, not on the patronage of others, but on your own capacity, resolution, diligence, and exertions. Rise by merit, or rise not at all. Suited as these injunctions are believed to be by all, they are peculiarly addressed to those who, panting for renown, are resolved to enter upon a public career, and long "to read their history in a nation's eyes."

"O how wretched," exclaimed the Poet of Nature, "is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors." Miserable is the condition of every being who hangs on the favors of creatures like himself. Deserve, and strive by desert, to win the esteem of your fellow-men. Thus acquired, it decorates him who obtains and blesses those who bestow it. To them it is returned in faithful service, and to him in aid of the approbation of conscience to animate diligence and reward exertion. Those too, who engage in public service, are bound to cherish a hearty sympathy with the wants, feelings, comforts, and wishes of the people—whose welfare is committed to their charge. It is essential for the preservation of that confidence which ought to subsist between the principal and the agent, the constituent and the representative, that all haughtiness and reserve should be banished from their intercourse. It sometimes happens that he who has lived too constantly among books manifests a disgust in an association with the uneducated and unrefined, which mortifies and repels them. This is absurd in him, and unjust to them. It is absurd, for he ought to know, and know well, those for whom, and upon whom, he expects to act—they constitute in fact, one of the first and most appropriate objects of his study; and it is unjust, for not unfrequently under this roughness which shocks the man of books is to be found a stock of practical information, in which he is miserably deficient. Banish, then, all superciliousness, for it is criminal and ridiculous. Honestly seek to serve your country, for it is glorious to advance the good of your fellow-men, and thus, as far as feeble mortals may, act up to the great example of Him in whose image and likeness you are made. Seek also, by all honest arts, to win their confidence, but beware how you prefer their favor to their service. The high road of service is indeed laborious, exposed to the rain and sun, the heat and dust; while the by-path of favor has, apparently, at first, much the same direction, and is bordered with flowers and sheltered by trees, "cooled with fountains and murmuring with waterfalls." No wonder, then, that like the son of Abensina, in Johnston's beautiful apologue the young adventurer is tempted to try the happy experiment of "uniting pleasure with business, and gaining the rewards of diligence without suffering its fatigues." But once entered upon, the path of favor, though found to decline more and more from its first direction, is pursued through all its deviations, till at length even the thought of return to the road of service is utterly abandoned. To court the fondness of the people is found or supposed to be easier than to merit their approbation. Meanly ambitious of public trust, without the virtues to deserve it; intent on personal distinction, and having forgotten the ends for which alone it is worth possessing, the miserable being, concentered all in self, learns to pander to every vulgar prejudice, to advocate every popular error, to chime in with every dominant party, to fawn, flatter and deceive, and become a demagogue! All manliness of principle has been lost in this long course of meanness: he dare not use his temporary popularity for any purposes of public good, in which there may be a hazard of forfeiting it; and the very eminence to which he is exalted renders but more conspicuous his servility and degradation. However clear the convictions of his judgment, however strong the admonitions of his, as yet, not thoroughly stifled conscience, not these, not the law of God, nor the rule of right, nor the public good, but the caprice of his constituents, must be his only guide. Having risen by artifice, and conscious of no worth to support him, he is in hourly dread of being supplanted in the favor of the deluded multitude by some more cunning deceiver. And such, sooner or later, is sure to be his fate. At some unlucky moment, when he bears his blushing honors thick upon him—and well may such honors blush—he is jerked from his elevation by some more dextrous demagogue, and falls, unpitied, never to rise again. Can this be the lot of him who has been here trained to admire and love high-minded excellence, and who has been taught by high classical authority to regard with the same fearless and immovable indifference the stern countenance of the tyrant and the wicked ardor of the multitude, and who has learned from a yet higher and holier authority to hold fast to "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, to abhor that which is evil and cleave to that which is good?" Believe me, however, this is no fancy picture. The original may be found in the world every day. Nor will it surprise those who have had occasion to see how the vain heart is swollen, and the giddy head turned, how honesty of purpose and manliness of spirit are perverted by popular applause. It is but the first step that costs. Once yield to the suggestion that a little deceit or prevarication, a slight sacrifice of principle and independence, a compromise of conscience in matters not absolutely fundamental, may be excused, when the immediate gain is obvious and the end in view important, and the downward path becomes every day more and more smooth until, in its descent, it reaches the very abyss of vulgar, trading, intriguing, electioneering, office-hunting politicians. If in this lowest depth a lower deep can be found, none of us, I am sure, have the curiosity to explore it.

But is integrity sure to meet here its merited reward? Unquestionably not. If it were, and the fact generally known, there would scarcely be room for choice, and men would be honest from the want of a plausible temptation to be otherwise. But it is not too much to say, that in general, integrity has a tendency to promote the interests of him who pursues it, and it is therefore recommended to our adoption by prudence, not less than by principle. Success in the acquisition of any intrinsic object is necessarily uncertain, since it depends on contingencies which cannot be foreseen, and which, if foreseen, are frequently beyond our power. It is not in mortals to command success. No talent, no courage, no industry, and no address can be certain to effect it. But when it is attempted by cunning, disingenuous means, it is usually rendered more difficult of attainment because of the complexity of the scheme and the risk of detection and counteraction. Honesty, in the long run, is therefore the surer policy. It is impossible to thrive without the reputation of it, and it is far easier to be honest, indeed, than to cheat the world into the belief of integrity where it is not. The crooked stratagems, the arts, toils, concealments and self-denials, which are necessary to carry on a successful imposition, are far more onerous and painful than all the duties which a life of probity enjoins; while the consciousness of an upright deportment diffuses through the whole man that security and serenity which infinitely outweighs all the advantages of successful cunning. Nor, in recommending a spirit of independence, is it intended to proscribe the acceptance of friendly aid, freely tendered, and won by no mean solicitation. Children of the same common family, we are bound to help each other in the trials and difficulties of our common pilgrimage; nor should we ever be too proud to receive from others that assistance which it is our duty to render to them. Now such aid is not only more likely to be bestowed, but comes with far greater effect, when there has been a manly and sustained effort to do without it. The spindling plant which has always been supported by a prop is not only unable to stand alone, but can scarcely be sustained by props when the season of fruit arrives; whereas, the slight assistance then bestowed on the hardy tree that, self-sustained, has always braved the breeze, will enable it to bear up under the heaviest and richest burthen. He who trusts to others must necessarily be often disappointed, and the habit of dependence creates a helplessness which is almost incapable of exertion. Fancy dwells on expected aid, until it mistakes its own creations for realities, and the child of illusion wastes life in miserable daydreams, unable to act for himself, and confidently relying on assistance which he is destined never to receive.

Deeply-rooted principles of probity, confirmed habits of industry, and a determination to rely on one's own exertions constitute, then, the great preparation for the discharge of the duties of man, and the best security for performing them with honor to one's self and benefit to others. But it may be asked what is there in such a life of never-ending toil, effort and privation, to recommend it to the acceptance of the young and the gay? Those who aspire to heroic renown, may indeed make up their minds to embrace these "hard doctrines;" but it may be well questioned whether happiness is not preferable to greatness, and enjoyment more desirable than distinction. Let others, if they will, toil "up the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar"; we choose rather to sport in luxurious ease and careless glee in the valley below. It is, indeed, on those who aspire to eminence that these injunctions are intended to be pressed with the greatest emphasis, not only because a failure in them would be more disastrous than in others, but because they are exposed to greater and more numerous dangers of error. But it is a sad mistake to suppose that they are not suited to all, and are not earnestly urged upon all, however humble their pretensions or moderate their views. Happiness, as well as greatness, enjoyment as well as renown, have no friends so sure as Integrity, Diligence, and Independence. We are not placed here to waste our days in wanton riot or inglorious ease, with appetites perpetually gratified and never palled, exempted from all care and solicitude, with life ever fresh, and joys ever new. He who has fitted us for our condition, and assigned to us its appropriate duties, has not left his work unfinished, and omitted to provide a penalty for the neglect of our obligations. Labor is not more the duty than the blessing of man. Without it there is neither mental nor physical vigor, health, cheerfulness, nor animation; neither the eagerness of hope, nor the capacity to enjoy. Every human being must have some object to engage his attention, excite his wishes, and rouse him to action, or he sinks, a prey to listlessness. For want of proper occupation, see strenuous idleness resorting to a thousand expedients—the race-course, the bottle, or the gaming-table, the frivolities of fashion, the debasements of sensuality, the petty contentions of envy, the grovelling pursuits of avarice, and all the various distracting agitations of vice. Call you these enjoyments? Is such the happiness which it is so dreadful to forego?