The Mercury - October 1900 ; Gettysburg College Mercury; College Mercury; Mercury
In: http://gettysburg.cdmhost.com/cdm/ref/collection/GBNP01/id/54597
THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1900. No. S RALLY 'ROUND THE STANDARD. CHAS. W. WEISER, '01. Those days are gone, they've swiftly flown, With pleasures fraught, and joys well known, When by the sea or mountain town We gaily roamed, or lithe, sat down— Or in the country on the farm Renewed our health thro' nature's charm. We'd often sport throughout the day, And when the zephyrs held their sway We'd chat with friends and loved ones light, 'Neath Hesper islands of the night, Of actions done which time had sealed, Or of the future unrevealed. Those days are gone, and back to toil, We've come, and burn the midnight oil— Aye eagerly once more we've come, 'Though minds are full of thoughts of home, For thro' it all we get a view Of the orange and the blue. We see our standard in the air, Floating high in noon-tide glare, And feel that we must lead the ranks Which cross the yellow Tiber's banks, And bravely 'neath our ensign stand,— A glorious future's now at hand. 138 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY BARNACLES. [First Gies Prize.] R. D. CLARE, '00. My soul is sailing' through the sea, But the Past is heavy and hindereth me. The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells About my soul. The huge waves wash, the high waves roll, Each barnacle clingeth and worketh dole And hindreth me from sailing-. Old Past, let go, and drop i' the sea Till fathomless waters cover thee ! For I am living but thou art dead; Thou drawest back, I strive ahead The Day to find. Thy shells unbind ! Night comes behind, I needs must .hurry with the wind And trim me best for sailing'. —SlDNBV L,ANIER. We have in the lines just quoted the forcible and correct im-plication of a great and eternal truth—great in its significance and comprehensiveness, eternal in its applicability to existence in all ages and the constant uniformity of its operation. The Past is ever exercising a mighty controlling influence on the Present and is at the same time determining with wonderful ac-curacy the character of the Future. L,ike a dread sovereign, clothed with absolute power, it secures the complete enactment of its every edict. Even the forces of nature are subservient to it and yield unquestioning obedience to its behests. Its influence is at the same time beneficent and tyrannical, benign and arrogant, uplifting and debasing. Its realm of activity being infinite, all men come within its potent sway. Every individual is therefore to a great extent, in his intellectual, moral and physical char-acteristics, a product of past ages. Innumerable habits and tendencies are transmitted from generation to generation, now in-creasing in strength, now weakening or disappearing, all the time carrying with them blessing or destruction. To those who have a deep and sympathetic insight into human nature with all its frailties and ceaseless struggles, these choice lines of Eanier will appeal with special force and significance. The analogy between the soul and a vessel upon the sea is both THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 139 beautiful and appropriate. Who has witnessed the departure of an ocean liner on its solitary journey to some far distant port without being reminded of the passage of a human soul across the broad ocean of life ? Imagine the scene. In a sheltered harbor, riding at anchor upon the gently undulating surface of the water, is a stately ship. Her highly polished decks, glitter-ing sides and burnished armorings suggest immaculate cleanliness and youth, while her dazzlingly white sails, bathed in the warm sunlight, are the very emblems of purity. On board, stationed at their respective posts of duty, are the hardy sailors, eager for the cruise. Finally the signal is given; the anchor is lifted, and the sails are spread to the ready breeze. Slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed, the beautiful ship, like a huge white-winged bird, passes majestically from the harbor out into the open sea. The shores rapidly recede from view until they describe to the fond farewell gaze of the sailors nothing more than a thin haze along the horizon. This too soon disappears, and ere long our proud ship is far from all lauds, pursuing her solitary course upon the trackless depths of the ocean. Days come and go and the ship is still on her watery way, propitious winds co-operating with the unerring intelligence of the pilot in directing her to her destined harbor. From time to time the hearts of the sailors are cheered by the appearance of a sail on the horizon and the passing of another vessel with its precious burden of human beings. But the interest is only tem-porary ; halloos and good-byes are exchanged and the vessels soon lose sight of one another. Each has its own peculiar mission to perform, just as different souls, which in life's experiences may come into close contact one with another, must always remain individual existences with their own peculiar missions and obli-gations. Following our ship in her onward course we find her still staunch and true. Nor does she escape untoward conditions; the fury of the elements threatens her repeatedly; the thunders roar and the lightnings play about her masts. But she successfully braves every tempestuous sea, as though confident of her own soundness and safety. In time her first port is made; her first achievement gloriously won. The cruise is continued and the ship sails from port to port in the performance of her responsible mission. But in the course of time there gradually appear signs mmm 140 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY of deterioration in the vessel. Not only is there a decided dimi-nution in her speed, but her draught is increased and her sailing more laborious. An investigation reveals the startling fact that clinging to her once smooth and clean hull with tenacious grasp are many small barnacles, whose appearance there had been so gradual as to be at first almost without any perceptible effects. The ship is hundreds of miles from a dock and consequently the evil cannot be remedied. The number of barnacles is rapidly increasing now and the sailing of the ship is continually becom-ing more laborious. Our once proud and beautiful ship begins to show unmistakable signs of decay. She is ever sinking deeper in the briny deep and can continue her course only with the greatest difficulty. No longer is she able to withstand the buffet-ing storms; and those in charge of her make strenuous efforts to get her into the nearest port before calamity overtake her. But alas their efforts are vain ! A terrific storm, arises; again the winds toss up huge overwhelming billows. The thunders roar and the vivid lightnings flash, and in their flash can be read the doom of our vessel, whose early fortitude and strength now gone, rides helplessly in the cruel sea. Repeatedly submerged beneath the mountain waves, she can no longer be managed by her terror-stricken crew. At last comes the fatal moment. The ship is in sight of land and makes frantic efforts to reach safety, but the thousands of barnacles now adhering to her hull drag her down and impede her progress. About her the breakers are roaring. Suddenly and with a crash of doom the ship is dashed upon the hidden rocks; her well-built frame trembles and yields to the rending force of the waves; her brave crew are sacrificed to the deep, and a proud and promising career is ended in ruin. Was it the tempest that did it? No, it was the small and apparently in-significant barnacle. After the foregoing elaboration on the chief thought of the poem it would be a reflection on the intelligence of our readers to explain the applicability of this thought to human life and ex-perience. Into every life there come at an earlier or later period mischievous and destructive habits and tendencies. Like the barnacles in the poem their coming is gradual and unobserved, calling for the greatest watchfulness on the part of the individual. They quietly and insinuatingly implant themselves into the very moral fibre of our being, and cling to us with an almost inextric- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 141 able grasp. They are furthermore like the real barnacle in that they continually multiply in number and evil effects, until at last they bring about ignominious death and destruction. A discussion of the formation of habits aud the cultivation of tendencies in early life from a purely psychological standpoint would necessarily be more comprehensive than the scope of this essay permits or the ability of the writer justifies. We shall con-. tent ourselves therefore with the mere facts and their applications. Man, in his moral and spiritual nature, has been defined as a "bundle of habits and tendencies." While this definition may be opeu to just criticism it nevertheless expresses a great psy-chological truth and implies an almost terrifying moral responsi-bility for our daily life and conduct. That character chiefly determines the nature of man's ethical distinctions and mental acts and states is generally acknowledged. That man is morally accountable for most of his own peculiar habits is no less true. This simple truth, from which men are prone to flee, invests life with the greatest responsibility. It is a serious thing to live. Barnacles of habit! What failures, sorrow aud wide-spread misery they are accountable for! Although restricted in their operations to no particular periods of life, they are most likely to appear in the early and formative periods. They meet us at the very threshold of our earthly existence, and with insinuating art invade the sacredness of pure, sweet childhood and youth, firmly attaching themselves to innocent souls and implanting therein the germs of all those evils which go to rob life of its rightful happiness and peace,and render existence through time and eternity one dreary round of sorrow and remorse. In order that we may get a more comprehensive view of the modes of operation of those barnacles of habit as well as their far-reaching effects, we shall now consider the state of the indi-vidual who has become a victim to them : and for our present purpose it is desirable that we treat first the objective influence of this individual in his social relations. We distinguish in this objective influence a two-fold division: First, the influence on others ; Second, the reflex influence, or the influence on self through the solidarity of the race. Both divisions are very important and far-reaching, but between them can be drawn no entirely clear line of demarkation. Clearly an individual's objective influence will be determined largely by his 142 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY intellectual and social status. But laying this consideration aside, it is evident that the average individual exerts a wonderfully great influence upon those about him. His habits of action and even of thought are bound to become, to a certain extent, theirs also, and to just this extent does he become morally responsible for their course of life and conduct. Since men love darkness rather than light, it would seem that his evil habits possess a more operative and effective influence than his good habits. This evil influence, emanating from him, affects not only his immediate companions, but it also leaves its deadly stamp upon the com-munity at large. Indeed the moral tone of the entire human race suffers a positive lowering because of the evil influence of this single individual. We come now to the reflex objective influence of the indi-vidual to whom these barnacles of habit adhere. It is an un-deniable fact that every individual creates to a large extent his own environment. Whether he shall be surrounded by light or darkness, joy or sorrow, righteousness or sin depends largely upon his own course of life and conduct. As an image is reflected in a mirror so is the influence of evil habits reflected in those upon whom it operates, to be seen and experienced again by him in whom it first had its origin. From the standpoint of self-interest, it is just as unreasonable to draw a fellow-man from the path of rectitude and duty as to drag him by main force into a bed of quick sand, for in both cases the aggressor must share the fate of his victim. Thus we see that he who wields an evil influence is not only a dangerous enemy to society, but is also a curse to himself, for he is continually preparing pitfalls for his own feet, and jeopardizing all chance of his ever attaining to moral worth. The subjective influence of the individual calls for treatment now, and it is here that we observe the saddest and most destruc-tive workings of these barnacles of habit. Like the unfortunate ship, whose career we have described, many a life has its begin-ning in comparative purity and strength. Full of confidence in its own powers, it presses boldly on, overcoming obstacle after obstacle. But just as the watery environment of our ship con-tained many hidden and unsuspected dangers, so is the environ-ment of this life teeming with evils which ere long begin to assert themselves. Pernicious habits of temperament, disposition, or passion appear. Silently, but with the inexorableness of Fate THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 143 they undermine all that which is best and noblest in human nature, and in the end bring moral wreck and ruin. Nor is this hideous transformation limited only to the outward expression of char-acter. There is a marked physiological change in the very brain cells of the individual. The very citadel of man's superior glory and strength is attacked and laid low. The intellect is debased and misdirected in its operations. The sensibility is rendered weak and misleading; the will is helplessly bound, as in ada-mantine chains. Beautiful and lofty thoughts, refined feelings, and noble resolves are no longer possible. In their place are low and unworthy conceptions, coarse feelings and ignoble desires and resolutions. If perchance there flash through this night of sin and shame a faint auroral beam of truth and purity, the fettered will can only by the most strenuous effort respond to its uplifting influence. Weoffer no apology for the dark picture here presented; human experience in all ages will testify to its fidelity to stern reality. These hell-born barnacles of habit have destroyed the highest in-tellects and debased the most beautiful characters. All spiritual worth falls before them. For an unutterably sad illustration of this truth, let us take a brief glance at the life of one of England's most distinguished poets, Lord Byron. Although a man of great genius, rank, fame and power, his life was in the end a miserable failure. The barnacles of habit, which first made their appear-ance in him in early youth, clun'g to him to the close of his life with ever increasing bane and deadening influence. Throughout his sad and romantic life he was in continually abject slavery to the Past. The vicious habits formed then asserted their dread power even in his best moments, and, like the hideous Eumenides of old, allowed him no rest, but drove him from shore to shore until, with a prematurely worn out body and destroyed peace of mind, his life, once full of glorious promise but now bereft of all its charm,was sadly ended. The unutterable sorrow and regret of the following lines, written but three months before his death, bar comment: "My days are in the yellow leaf ; The flowers and fruit of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone. 144 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY But probably the most important phase of our subject is the influence of the individual upon posterity. We stand face to face with the great law of heredity, whose workings are now receiving such general recognition by all intelligent people. If there is one thing which more than any other gives to life solemn and tremendous responsibility it is heredity, for literally, "none of us liveth to himself," but he lives for the whole race, both in this age and in all subsequent ages. We can no longer believe that " each soul is an emanation, fresh and unpolluted, from a divine fountain of being." It is entirely opposed to all our knowledge of psychical phenomena and the modern views on evolution. On the other hand, we must refrain from going to the opposite extreme of the materialist and say that " men are what they were born." The former view imposes upon poor man a terrible burden of responsibility for every slight violation of right which causes him to fall from a state of absolute purity, render-ing his moral condition utterly hopeless. The latter view would lead us to fatalism, and the denial of all responsibility. The former view ignores the existence of the law of heredity ; the lat-ter view would endeavor to explain everything by this law. Heredity is not all. Environment plays an inestimably import-ant part in the development of every human being. The evolu-tion of man is but the history of the operations of these two great forces. Like two Titans, engaged in work upon some great structure, heredity and environment ply their respective tasks, the former continually building with utmost constancy of pur-pose ; the latter capriciously assisting for a time, and then again hindering or destroying the work of the former. It is only by recognizing the existence of these influences, and their effect upon character, that we can arrive at even an elementary knowledge and appreciation of life's problems. We have thus far said but little relative to the will, and its functions in the development of character. We have, however, by our frequent references to moral responsibility in life, implied its existence and over-ruling power. Heredity and environment are not all. Towering above them in dignity and power is the human will, which, if rightly exercised, can overcome to a greater or lesser extent many of their most potent influences. This will necessarily operates in freedom, and it is in this freedom that the responsibilities of life arise. " Each human being is free, and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 145 therefore responsible, in a measure ; and yet no child has any voice in saying where he shall be born, what blood shall course in his veins, what tendencies shall impel, or what aspirations thrill him."—(Amory H. Bradford.) In thus opposing will to heredity and environment we do not wish to imply that it operates in a field distinctly its own, and is altogether above and free from the influences of the latter. The character of the will is indeed determined to a very large degree by heredity and environment. Should the will of the parent be affected by the barnacles of weakness, indecision and cowardice, we would have reason to expect the same condition in the case of the child. For the sake of illustrating the manner in which a weakness of the will may be inherited, let us cite a sad example. The English poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was addicted to the use of stimulants. Although he earnestly strove to overcome this tendency, he found that he lacked the will-power necessary for complete abstinence. His son, Hartly Coleridge, also a poet, inherited all his father's weakness in this direction ; and his entire life was a constant and unsuccessful struggle against temptation. In a spirit of despair he wrote of himself: " O ! woeful impotence of weak resolve, Recorded rashly to the writer's shame, Da3rs pass away, and time's large orbs revolve, And every day beholds me still the same ; 'Till oft neglected purpose loses aim, And hope becomes a flat, unheeded lie." And thus these barnacles of habit beset the individual, and accomplish their deadly work. They appear when life is young and sweet, and, like the Sirens, entice him with their soft allure-ments to destruction. As time progresses they tighten their re-morseless hold upon him, and weigh him down beneath their slimy weight of shame remorse and despair. At last death, with a thousand terrors, overtakes him, and another lost soul enters the realm of everlasting darkness. But the evil effects of the barnacles of habit do not end with the death of the individual. The curse is transmitted to subsequent generations. There is started a stream of death, which flows on down through the ages, continually exhaling from its poisonous waters, mixed with tears and blood, the germs of sin, grief, agony and unutterable despair. We shall now conclude this rather meagre and unsatisfactory 146 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY treatment of some of life's great problems. If our essay partakes of too gloomy and despondent a tone to please our reader's ears, its theme should be held accountable, but not its writer. We have endeavored to the best of our ability to set forth some of the more obvious evil effects resulting from the formation of wrong habits of life ; and throughout we have conscientiously endeavored to develop the central thought of L,auier's poem—the powerful influence of the past upon the present. Danier recognized the fact that life, for many an individual, is a ceaseless struggle ; that every attainment of virtue and true worth is reached only by the overcoming of innumerable obstacles, and the resolute and deter-mined resistance to the restraining grasp of the spectral hand which the dead past is ever reaching out to us. In conclusion, we wish to say that, by the very nature of our subject, we have been compelled to depict the darkest side of human nature. That there is a bright side, too, we confidently believe. While it is a serious thing to live, because of life's re-sponsibilities, it is also a blessed thing to live, because of life's glorious opportunities. And for us to invest life with deep gloom and sorrow is not only the height of folly, but it is an insult to ourallwise and loving Maker. The Reign of Righteousness will come ; for, while that which is true and holy will abide and in-crease throughout all time, sin has in itself the seeds of its own decay. " The wages of sin is death." THE BLACK CURL. MAY BELLE DIEHL, '03. TT was a warm day, about the middle of June, when Detective A Elair got to Richard's house. He could see it when he entered the wood, a small house, painted white, with a porch running all around it. Blair was on the search for Richard, better known as "Sly Bill." He had skipped off with about a thousand, one dark night, from the bank in which he was working. Blair had never seen him, but he was sure he would know him as soon as he would see him. As he drew near the house he heard singing, and stopping to listen, he thought he recognized a woman's voice. When he rapped on the door it was opened by a withered old woman who THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 147 curtly inquired what he wanted there. Her face grew a little pale when he asked for her son, but she straightened herself up and said that he had gone. Blair's face fell, but he asked leave to search the house. When that was ended he sat down to think. No trace whatever had he found of the fellow. Instead he found, sitting in her room, the loveliest girl he had ever seen, dark as night. Blair adored dark girls. As he was far from New York he was invited to stay over night. He declined to stay, but afterwards decided to do so and go back the next day. That evening they had a pleasant time chatting on the porch, but Blair had no idea whether either of them suspected what he was there for. He grew to love the girl in those few hours. When they took a walk the next day she coyly asked why he could not stay a little longer. He was delighted and determined to stay until he was ordered to leave. And he did. These two took a great many walks, and one pleasant evening when Blair thought the time had come, he asked her to be his wife. Of course she accepted him and he told her all about New York, and where they would live, etc. But there was only one cloud to mar the pleasure. She shunned him a little, a very little, but Blair saw it and wondered to himself. One evening he asked her why she did this;—they were sitting under a weeping willow by the brook, their favorite spot—she started a little when the question was asked, but looking at the water at her feet she coyly said, "I am afraid if I were with you always I would not be able to let you go when—a—when—the time came to part." He put his arm about her and drew her towards him; but just then there were footsteps and Mrs. Richards called her daughter. The girl arose and rau forward to her mother and they went toward the house together. The next day he got word to start and hunt Richard at another place where he was supposed to have been seen. He decided to go, and on his way stop for "Blanche." The day he left they were in their old place by the brook. Blair had asked her for a certain curl that hung lovingly over her little ear. She cut it off, and when he took it he pressed it to his lips and put it in his card case. While he was on the way to find the thief he received a tele-gram: "Come back at once; thief found." He decided to come 148 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY for his sweetheart later, and set out for New York-. He arrived there a few days later, and when he walked into the office one of the men came up to him and slapped him on the back and said: "Well, old boy, so you were entrapped ?" At this all the other men laughed. Blair looked bewildered, and he was led to a door, which, when it was unlocked was thrown open to his gaze. Blair staggered back and covered his eyes, then opened them and looked again. There in a corner by an opeii window stood— "Blanche," yet not "Blanche." The same dark skin and black eyes and pretty ringlets that Blair had so admired. She(?) held a cigarette between her pearly teeth and a cap sat back on the clustering curls. There came a sneering laugh from between those teeth when Blair came in but "fool!" was the only word that came. But he certainly made a pretty girl! ONE OP COD'S WAIPS. [Second Gies Prize.] C. M. A. STINE, '01. '"pHB train had just roared out of its miles of snowsheds and ■"■ paused for a moment on the summit of the Sierras. It was dusk. The sun had sunk behind the cloud-capped peaks and the platform before the little box of a station was very quiet after the long vestibuled train vanished into the fast approaching night. At the one end of the platform, playing with the pebbles and singing softly to himself, was a rosy cheeked, brown-eyed little boy. He was clothed in a rough suit of jeans many sizes too large, and his soft brown curls peeped through his ragged straw hat. The boy's name was Tom. Tom's father worked in the mines and sometimes Tom became very lonesome with no companions save the great, silent moun-tains. But the moutains answered Tom when he shouted in his childish sports and he thought they sympathized with him en-tirely. His mother had died six long years before, and nobody had thought it worth while to explain to him that it was an echo. To-night, when Tom spied his father in the distance and ran to meet him as usual, he was put aside and told to run away and not bother his father. It was the first time that he had not met THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 149 with a loving welcome and been lifted to his father's shoulder. His soft red lips quivered a moment and the brown eyes filled as he turned silently away. A little later when Tom had eaten his meagre supper and then gone to his bed in one corner, the little cabin was filled with men and Tom heard his father deny some-thing again and again, but he could not quite understand what it was all about. Finally one of the men sprang up, with an oath, and threatened to shoot his father, but the other men pulled him out of the cabin, saying that they offered one alternative, that was that his father go away and not show himself again. His father promised and then came and told Tom to dress himself and come. The trouble was about a large nugget of gold which had dis-appeared mysteriously. Tom's father had been working near the place where the nugget was last seen, and when it disappeared the readiness to suspicion by the rough miners at once asserted itself, and it was agreed that Tom's father could tell more about the lost nugget than he was willing to admit. He was a new-comer and had no friends, so things went hard with him. As the two stole away in the night, Tom, looking back over his father's shoulder as he was carried, saw their little cabin in flames, and when he reported the discovery his father only walked faster and didn't seem to care. But Tom cried a little to himself as he was hurried off, and finally went to sleep on his father's shoulder. The man plodded wearily on for awhile and then laid Tom down under a pine and wrapping him up in his coat, paced up and down till the gray light of dawn crept down from its resting place in the towering peaks. As he walked he talked to himself softly; " Oh, Mary, if you had only stayed. Why did God have to take you ? The brutes! To burn my home and drive me out with my little boy into the mountains to die! I did not take the cursed nugget. Oh, God ! I dare not kill myself. My poor little boy ! You can't realize what it means to you to be the son of a man who has been branded a thief.'' Finally he threw himself beside Tom and, exhausted with work and anxiety, slept till the rays of the morning sun kissed the closed eye-lids of his little boy and awoke him. The little fellow called his father, and the two trudged wearily on till they came to another mining town. The father bought a meagre dinner from one of the cabins ISO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY which a huge board proclaimed a " Restournt." He took Tom to a cabin and gave a woman some money, asking her to keep the little fellow till he came back. Then he took Tom aside, looking at him a long time, told him to grow up to be a good man, and stroked Tom's soft brown hair awhile. At last he took a tiny locket from within his ragged blue shirt and hung the delicate chain around Tom's neck and showed him how to look at the picture of the sweet, girlish face within. He held Tom's head in his hands and gazed into the deep brown eyes as if looking for the resemblance to the face in the locket. The look in his father's face made the little fellow feel like crying, though he knew it wasn't manly to cry. That evening they brought his father back to the little town and a couple men hastily buried the body for decency's sake- There was a bullet hole in the forehead. " He had committed suicide, because his revolver had one chamber empty and was found lying beside him." Such was the verdict of the astute coroner. No one took the trouble to look about near the scene of the supposed suicide or they might have found the loaded shell which had been taken from one chamber of the revolver tossed there by the coward who had threatened to shoot him by his very fireside, and now had accomplished his craven will from a con-cealed spot among the rocks. The same villain who took the gold now had covered up his crime with an almost devilish cun-ning. He escaped punishment on earth, unless his own dark thoughts tormented him. The woman kept Tom for awhile, but she had many cares of her own and finally Tom was left to make a living for himself. The little fellow (just five summers he had seen) did all sorts of odd jobs, but was hungry always, only sometimes not quite as much as at others. One night it rained and Tom caught cold. The next day he couldn't work and one of the miners pitied the little fellow and took him to his home. For a few weeks Tom was very sick, but he was carefully watched over by the great-hearted Christian mother, who willingly undertook the care of the homeless, ragged little stranger, a part of whose pitiful ex-perience she knew. At last, one day, the great brown eyes opened and the fire of intelligence was once more alight within THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 151 them. He finally got well and received work in the company store. We must pass over a period of ten years, during which the little lad grew to be a strong, intelligent, kind-hearted youth. His restless spirit and his thirst for knowledge induced him, at the end of his sixteenth year, to take a sad leave of the woman who had cared for him as tenderly as a mother, and whom he had learned to love. At parting he left with her the delicate gold chain of peculiar workmanship, but took the locket himself. He said that he intended to find work, get a college education, and some day he would return. When, he did not know. Three years more slipped away. The little mining town had grown with a mushroom-like growth to the size of a great city. Many new mining industries had arisen. One morning a grey haired, withered old woman offered flowers for sale to an equally grey and old, but richly dressed and proud-faced woman, who, attracted by the magnificent roses of the old flower-woman, had ordered her carriage to stop. She bestowed a passing glance on the poorly dressed little woman and was about to turn again to the roses when she uttered an exclamation and demanded to know where this woman, who probably had never had money enough to buy a fine dress, could have gotten the strangely fashioned and costly chain which had slipped into view from beneath the old flower-woman's wrap. She became more agitated as the old flower-woman took the chain off and permitted her to examine it. Passers-by were astonished to see the rich and fashionable Mrs. Grayson in earnest conversation with a poor old flower-woman. Finally she out-raged the refined sensibilities of her sister, who had been leaning listlessly back in the carriage, by actually taking the shabby old woman into her carriage and ordering the coachman to drive home. "Oh, Marion, what will our friends say?" But this phrase, which usually had the desired effect, seemed spoken to deaf ears. A look into Mrs. Grayson's pale face silenced her. The old flower-woman related how Tom had come to her when a little sick lad and left her after he had grown almost to manhood, and how she had never heard of him since. The old woman's voice trembled and her faded old face took additional ti. i ii. ,.«■——w ii minim HW.IU. 152 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY lines as she told bow she longed to see her lost boy. And then her grief gave place to wonder as she discovered that the woman beside her was shedding tears from eyes that had almost forgotten what tears were. " It is certainly my daughter's son," she exclaimed, noticing the look of wonder on the face of the old flower-woman. " But where is the locket?" and she indicated the place on the chain where the locket had hung. " He kept the locket," the old flower-woman answered. Then Mrs. Grayson explained in a voice frequently inter-rupted by grief how her daughter, when but a young girl, had fallen in love with a wild young civil engineer, and on her parents' absolute refusal of their consent, had disappeared and not been heard from. The chain and locket with a picture of the young girl had been given to her daughter by her on a birthday before she left home. The mother had loved her daughter most tenderly, and when the little boy, Tom, was but a few months old the mother had received a letter asking her, if anything should happen his mother, to take care of the little fellow. She had then tried to find her daughter, but they had gone farther West and she never again heard, and did not know that her daughter was dead, though she had feared that such must be the case. That night the wires sang and operators were astonished at the number of messages and inquiries, all relating to the same man. They hesitated between the belief that the man who created all this inquiry was a murderer and the belief that he was an absconding bank cashier. But all inquiry was in vain. The past refused to give a clue to the present. Detectives who had never failed before gave up the vain search. Mrs. Grayson came to the end of her resources. All that wealth could do had been done, without result. She had shown her gratitude to the old flower-woman by making her comfortable for the remainder of her life. She, herself, decided to go abroad in search for lost health, and perhaps, deep down in her heart, she thought that some kind providence would reveal her grandson, for whom she had a very tender and deep affection as the son of her erring, but well be-loved, daughter. One day on the deck of the steamer she found a man's watch THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 153 and chain, and at once the charm on the chain caught her eye. It was the missing locket. She touched a spring and found her-self gazing, with tear dimmed eyes, at the smiling face of her daughter pictured within. A moment later a young man inquired of her for a watch and chain that he thought must have slipped from his clothing as he lounged in a steamer chair. The law of heredity had told. The strain of refinement showed itself in that, through all these years of hard work and rough surroundings, he had succeeded, and was the quiet, re-fined looking fellow the grandmother had longed to see. He had managed to earn his way through a business college, and now as private secretary of a well-to-do merchant was in a fair way to reach his goal, a higher education. Without a word the grandmother fastened the locket in its place on the curious old chain which she had received again through the old flower-woman, and handed the beautiful bit of jewelry to him. Ten minutes later the lazy passengers were astonished to see Mrs. Grayson go by leaning on the arm of a tall, brown-eyed fel-low (for she was old and the ship swayed on the ocean swell), and to notice that there were actually tears on the aristocratic old face, and a suspicious moisture in the eyes of the young fellow who helped her along so carefully, and with such a caressing touch. God had cared for and watched over the motherless waif, and when human strength had failed to unite relatives, in His fathomless love He gave the young man a loving mother in place of the mother he had lost so many years ago. CONSCIOUSNESS. Within the silent rock exist A billion yearning- lives. Man is a petty egotist To think he only strives, To think he only struggles up To God through toil and pain. He is but one drop in a cup Filled from the mighty main. The flowers have tender little souls, That love, repine, aspire. 1S4 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Each star that on its orbit rolls, Feels infinite desire. The diamond longs to scintillate When hid beneath the sod. The universe is animate With consciousness of God. —E1.1.A WHEELER WILCOX, IN COLLIER'S WEEKLY. G^U HONOR, OR HONORS? (Gits Prut Production, Third Prize.) D. C. BURNITE, '01. "TN the world's broad field of battle" each contestant must have •*■ a purpose. This life has been called the "struggle for existence." This might be said, with some measure of truth, of some of the meanest of God's creatures, but such a purpose is unworthy of one made in His image. We struggle for more than mere existence. Each has a definite end towards which he strives, an ideal he seeks to imitate. A man's moral character is measured by his ideal. The higher his ideal, the nobler his traits of character. And how many there are who fail to realize the importance of the choice of an ideal! Many persons are, unfortunately, accustomed to act before they think. They do not consider tbat there are two sides to every question. Attracted by the brilliant achievements of others, without considering the means and methods by which such persons have attained their ends, they set up a goal, towards which they blindly direct their course of action, forgetful of everything but success. Comparatively few men can stand success. As in the case of the misguided Mohammed, with the attainment of distinction comes a change of character. Too often do men forsake honor in the strife for honors. Yet honors are not to be wholly despised. Even the most modest persons experience some satisfaction when the success of their efforts meets with the approval of their fellows. And the pursuit of such approval cannot justly be condemned if attended by sturdiness of character and the pre-servation of honor. On the contrary, such a course can be com-mended, for its successful outcome is not only a source of gratifi- THE GETl^YSBURG MERCURY 155 cation to the participant himself, but brings joy to his friends and credit to his community. But not all the honors that mankind can bestow can compensate for the loss of one grain of honor. "An honest man's the noblest work of God." Shall we, then, labor to win the empty praises of men, or to fulfill our Maker's design? With honors as the one end for which we strive, honor may be lost; but if all we do is done with this one purpose in view, the building up of an honorable character, sufficient honors will surely come. What man's name is more honored than that of "honest Abe Lincoln?" Each year our nation celebrates the memory of the virtuous Washington. The humble works ofMoody have brought him esteem, more sincere than could any other achievement, political or military. These are men who have worked, not for honors, but for honor, and obtained both. But what a host of men have forgotten character in the race for glory! The pursuit of honors under such circumstances is vain. What availed all the distinctions won by the intriguing Caesar? The name of Nero is remembered, not so much as that of a great Roman emperor, as that of history's most cruel tyrant. It was checked ambition which led Benedict Arnold to give his name to history, not as a successful American general, but as a traitor. For those the maintenance of honor was impossible, with honors alone in view. This fault of excessive ambition appears not only in past history, but also in that of the present. Men are no less inclined to endanger their good names in the pursuit of honors now than they have always been. But the means taken are somewhat different. The days of bloodshed and outright robbery to gain distinction are past; but the practice of falsehood, cheating and inti'igue has scarcely abated. It is too true that in these days honors accompany riches. By a large majority of people the wealthy are respected and courted because of their possessions only. And this being realized, many are the means taken to acquire wealth. Many a man starts out into business with the avowed intention of letting right rule his every act and word. But the ever appearing opportunity of telling a "business lie," or perpetrating one of the numerous "tricks of trade," assails him at every turn. Unless he recalls and clings to his good resolve, the first step below the level of 1S6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY honesty is too frequently the beginning of a general weakening of character, the loss of which he imagines is repaid by the acquirement of wealth and all the honors it brings. The honors attendant upon political eminence are particularly attractive. It is very easy for the political aspirant to be induced to employ falsehood and intrigue as assistants in reaching coveted ends, and it is to be deplored that these means too often are successful in producing the desired results, not only in connection with our town and state affairs, but in the government of our nation itself. So prevalent are such practices that a great pro-portion of our populace firmly believe that political honors and personal honor are incompatible. But business and politics are not the only directions in which honor can be lost to honors. There is scarcely one line of labor which does not offer abundant chances for deterioration of character. And not only at one time of life may we have this delusive ambition. It appears alike in the old and young. In fact, the evil practices of men are generally the continuation of dishonorable habits formed in early life. Nowhere is this sacrifice of honor for honors practiced so much as in our institutions of learning—those places where young men are finishing the mould-ing of characters that are to endure all through manhood. It is a cause of regret that so many in such places seem not to realize the importance of right dealing at this period of life. The bestowal of honors in the shape of high grades, in most schools and colleges, is based, not upon what the student has the ability to do—for it would be impossible to ascertain that accu-rately— but upon what he makes his instructors think he can do. What an inducement for wrong-doing, especially if these honors take the form of material rewards, or even verbal approval. He who in his zeal for honors lays aside honor, can find countless methods by which he may create the required good impression upon the minds of his tutors. And many do find and use these methods. The bane of our institutions of learning is the extensive practice of cheating, the great prevalence of the inclination to do wrong for the sake of advanced notation. Too many students are willing to give honor for honors. College credits, rightly acquired, are worthy of attainment, for they are evidence to the student himself of his real worth. But dishonestly obtained, they are nothing. And the excessive THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 157 use of this latter method of obtaining honors renders the whole system of numerical or alphabetical notation almost useless as a standard for the judgment of ability. But the majority of students fail to see this, and regard these honors as the one goal towards which they must bend their efforts, and to make the process easy, many stoop to unworthy methods. How utterly foolish such deeds ! For a few short years of self-satisfaction, for the praise of friends, and for the sake of transient credit, they are willing to injure that which is designed to regulate the whole course of life, the character. Too frequently we are mistaken in our conception of what true honors are. We consider the approval of a large number of persons as sufficient to call an attainment an honor. But true honors are not those regarded as such by many, but by certain men—the wise, the good, and by One who is infinitely wiser and better, the Great Judge. It is in His sight that the deepening of character becomes in itself an honor. With these thoughts in mind, let us ask ourselves, "For what shall we strive ? For that which will please our Maker or for the praise of men ; for self-improvement or vain glory ; for honor or honors?' ' Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy— Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy. They come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled, Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled; You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will cling 'round it still. -MOOKK. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Voi,. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1900. No. 5. Editor-in- Chief, S. A. VAN ORMEK, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HBTRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg") College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending- the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORS' DESK. "EVERYTHING points to a successful year for Pennsylvania *-* College ! A larger Freshman class, to the members of which—though too late to extend a welcome—THE MERCURY extends a greeting and an invitation to contribute to her columns ; a lively, healthy, interesting athletics ; a rival of the old-time enthusiasm in getting new men into the literary societies; an exceptional feeling of good-will among the students ; and a com-mendable harmony pervading the whole institution ; all these signs seem to augur a " star" year in the history of the college. Let us all conduct ourselves as students worthy the proffered privileges ! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 159 HPHERE is no more opportune time to urge the expediency of * regularly attending and actively participating in the work of our literary societies than at the beginning of the college year for the old students, and of the college course for the new. The college graduate, no matter in what profession he may be engaged, will frequently be called upon in public meetings, either to conduct the proceedings or give his opinion and counsel. How often, with a brilliant college record behind him, he hesitates or reluctantly accepts, only to stumble and falter in speech, or dis-play a grievous ignorance of parliamentary practice, to his own confusion and the disgust of those assembled. Opportunities to rise into public notice, to win the confidence of his community, and, in general, to exhibit qualifications for public duty and trust, are thus allowed to pass unimproved, and the disappointed aspirant is obliged to confine his interests and activities to the narrow channels of professional routine, and tamely work out his ordinary destiny on the dead level of professional common-place ; all because in his struggle for class standing, distinction in col-lege sports or general college activities, if not because of utter indifference, he has neglected the literary societies and their training. Too often the training there imparted is depreciated, and re-garded as a college incidental of collateral importance and in-terest, and not an essential and supplementary part of one's equipment for life—a part, indeed, of higher market value in the world to-day than that any department of study in the college curriculum can furnish. The literary societies are both animated by a spirit of earnest endeavor—a spirit which, though it savors of rivalry and competition, is modified by a sympathetic interest in the literary culture of all members. Their doors are ever open to visitors, and welcome ever warm to applicants. -K. **p LITERARY INOTES. HTHE publication at this time of the United States Government's *■ History of the Civil War in 128 volumes of narrative, and 35 volumes of maps, makes very tiniely the publication of Col. Thomas L,. Iyivermore's " Numbers and L,osses in the Civil War." The work is based upon official information contained in per- 160 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY mauent department records of both sides in the struggle, and gives the numbers engaged and the losses sustained in the long contest between the North and the South. Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. will publish the work. Jt Edna Dean Proctor, whose " Poems," chiefly of New England subjects, have won for her an enviable reputation, has in press with the Messrs. Houghton, Miffliu&Co. a new volume of verse, which relates entirely to New Hampshire, her native State. The book will be issued under the title, " A Mountain Maid, and Other Poems of New Hampshire." It will be illustrated by a number of reproductions of photographs of some of the romantic mountain and other scenery of the " Old Granite State." j* The publishers of " David Harum" give some interesting statistics regarding that work, now in its 436th thousand : Over 5,000 pounds of ink, 5,865 reams of paper, and 1,900 miles of thread have been used in making the books. If placed end to end they would extend for more than fifty miles. e^b THE MAIDEN ALL PORLORN. STANLEY C FOWLEB, '04. "IT'S de gospel truff I'm a tellin yo'. Dis yere house am ■*■ ha'nted shur nuff." " What's up now ?" asked Mr. Bently, looking up from his morning paper. George Washington rolled his eyes and twiddled his thumbs as he repeated his former assertion : " Dat de house am ha'nted." "Where did you obtain this pleasant information?" Mr. Bently demanded. " W'a a young gen'lenian, dats a stayin' downhe'ar, tole me dat de spook ob a beau'ful lady walks up in de garret. Dis lady used ter lib he'ar, when dis yer house was fust built, wid an ole uncle who wanted ter marry her ter his son, so's he'd git her money, but she wa' dead in lub wid a young fellar dat she used to meet ' clandistinctly.' One night dis ole uncle spied her a goin' up ter de garret an' cotched her a makin' signals out of dat THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 161 ' oriole' window to de fellar. De ole wretch locked her in de room, an' stole down an' waited fo' de young man, an' killed him while she wa' a lookin' at 'em. She went crazy, an'used ter steal up dere ebery Wednesday night (fo' dat's de night her uncle killed him), an' moan an' groan about him, an' when she died her spook walked. De people called her ' De Maiden All Forlorn.' " And having delivered this pleasant piece of news, George Washington retired. Here was a pretty state of affairs. Mr. Bently had spent three days with his wife and nephews at the large, old-fashioned man-sion on the Hudson, that he had recenttypurchased for a summer residence. These nephews, while at college, had earned the reputation of being " wild," but had developed into two quiet cads during the three days spent in the company of their aunt; much to the de-light of that estimable lady, and disgust of her husband. Mr. Bently rubbed his ears reflectively, and said, " George Washington's name is a warrant for his veracity, but, Good Dord ! just think of living in a house inhabited by a spook ! It's just like you, Tom Bently, to buy a place like this. What will you poor boys do when she begins to walk and groan ?" asked Mr. Bently. '' I will lay me down in peace and take my rest; for it is Thine, Dord only, that makest me dwell in safety," said Fred, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Will, the younger nephew, was too deeply interested in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," which he had been reading for the past few days, to pay any attention to the conversation. Well, if she's going to walk she'll do it to-night. But say, Fred, how will that club of yours, that you have invited to spend every Wednesday night here, stand it?" asked Mr. Bently. " They are all Christian boys, and fear nothing," said Fred. Mr. Bently's foot itched to connect with Fred, but, fearing his wife's anger, he found satisfaction in kicking the dog. " Well, it's queer that the agent forgot to mention ' The Maiden All Forlorn.' I'm going to examine the garret," and off Mr. Bently stamped. The garret had two very large rooms. One which had an oriel window, overlooking the river, opened into another smaller room, in which were a wooden table and several large packing 162 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY cases. This room opened into a large closet with a door at one end. Mr. Bently found it to be locked and the key missing. After getting the lay of the land for future emergencies, he hur-ried down to welcome the guests. They were six of the gayest looking " Christian" boys he had ever seen. His spirits rose only to fall again, for they proved to be the exact counterparts of his nephews. Mr. Bently's blissful snoring was brought to an abrupt end. " There, that's her ! Don't youhearthat noise ? Go up and see what it is !" said Mrs. Bently, who was sitting bolt upright in bed. It is needless to say that Mr. Bently failed to display a proper spirit of eagerness or enthusiasm at his wife's command, but a few prods from her succeeded in instilling the proper degree of courageousness necessary for such an undertaking. Calling for George Washington, who came running along with a bamboo cane in his hand, Mr. Bently handed him a pistol, some matches and a lighted candle; and after taking the cane from him, ordered him to lead the way. Trembling with fear they climbed the garret stairs, and just as George Washington was opening the garret door he sneezed, and out went the candle. " Light that candle ! " screamed Mr. Bently. Poor George was so excited that he succeeded in dropping the matches, and after Mr. Bently groped about in the dark, consol-ing himself and blessing George audibly, he was forced to proceed in total darkness. George plucked up sufficient courage to open the door very slowly, and both stole in. The moonlight was stealing through the window, and there, walking, or rather gliding over to it, her gauzy drapery floating gracefully behind her, was a beautiful young girl. George Wash-ington gave one yell and fled, tripping Mr. Bently, who did not take the time to rise to his feet, but scampered on all fours, fin-ishing a close second to George ; for Mr. Bently, instead of run-ning down stairs, jumped. He sailed through the air like a comet, his dressing gown floating majestically behind him as stiff as a board. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 163 When he lauded he imagined that he heard a chuckle, but turning he beheld George Washington shaking like a lump of jelly and muttering his prayers. "Say, George, I'll give you five dollars ifyou will completely forget this little excursion," said Mr. Bently. " All right, sah," said George. The next day, while strolling in the grounds, Mr. Bently was surprised to hear voices coming from behind a clump of bushes. Hearing his name mentioned, he listened and heard his nephew's voice say, " George, tell us how he looked when he sailed down stairs." Then he heard George Washington's voice answer, " Well, Massa Fred, he done went so fast ah could only see a streak ob him from de top to de bottom ob de stairs.'' Here then was a burst of laughter. Mr. Bently turned savagely on his heel and stalked away muttering, " The black snoozer. I'll choke him. Wait, I'll surprise them yet." Next Wednesday Mrs. Bently announced her intention of sleeping in the left wing of the house, far from the stamping ground of the maiden. Mr. Bently said nothing, but looked very wise. It was almost midnight, and Mr. Bently, fully dressed, his feet shod with soft felt slippers, and carrying a dark-lantern, slowly ascended the garret stairs. He trembled so violently as he turned the knob of the door that he was forced to lean against the wall for a minute. He finally opened it and peeped in. All was quiet and serene, so he tiptoed into the room. Presently he heard footsteps, and hastily shading the lantern saw George Washington walk by and enter the smaller room. As the door opened a flood of light came out, and he heard the sound of many feet tramping. Then he heard Will singing : " O, the youngest son, was a son of a gun, He was, he was, He shuffled the cards and he played for mon, He did, he did." Mr. Bently stole up and peeped into the room through the crack, for George had neglected to shut the door tightly. There sat Will and five "Christian boys" around the wooden table, on which were cards and chips. Fred was boxing with the re-maining " Christian boy," both clad in scant attire. George Washington was opening some bottles of champagne. 164 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY " Come, Ed, it's time that you did your act," said Will. Ed, a big, broad-shouldered fellow, arose aud placed a big blonde wig on his head and donned a long white wrapper. Then he draped some gauze about his shoulders. As he took off his shoe he dropped it. " Are they blasting rock as late as this?" innocently asked Will. " You horrid thing, to make fun of my little shoes. I'll hit you real hard," said Ed as he sent the other number eight sail-ing through the air in the direction of Will's head. When Ed had completed his toilet he stole up to Will, and laying his head on his shoulder, gazed up into his eyes and said, " Does 'oo love 'oo little tootsey-wootsey ?" " He should, ior he lost enough filthy lucre to you last club night," said Fred. Will sang " Thou'rt Like Unto a Flower," and was telling Ed how he " longed on those golden tresses his folded hands to lay," when Ed threw back his head and gave voice to such a howl as human ear had never heard before. It was the bray-ing of a donkey and the howling of a clog, blended harmoniously into one cry, " in linked sweetness long drawn out." "Suffering Moses! When did you cultivate that howl?" asked Will. " I got my inspiration from a Wagnerian chorus that I had the agony of listening to for about four hours and a half. I've practiced it for the past week. Dos't think it sounds like The Maiden All Forlorn singing, " Where Art Thou Now, My Be-loved?" said Ed. " She must have sung like a snorting gale," said Fred. " Say, George Washington, you told that tale with good effect. Who coached you?" asked Ed. " Ah belong to de ' Moonlight Dramatic Association,' " said George, proudly. " Gee," whispered Will, "I should think so many clouds would spoil the moonlight." " Go on, Ed, and do your act. The old gentleman may in-vestigate again," said Will. " Not much. He has his nightcap pulled down over his ears and his head buried under the pillows," said Ed. This was too much, and Mr. Beutly threw open the door and —MI im>i»nm—P THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 165 walked in. What a scene ! George Washington dropped on his knees, saying, " "Tis me father's ghost," in tones that would make the " Divine Sarah" turn green with envy. The Maiden All Forlorn, like the proverbial ostrich, had her head buried in a packing case, and her pedal extremities waving frantically in the air. A row of coat-tails were fast disappearing under the table. Only Fred remained cool and collected. " Good morning, gentlemen," said Mr. Bently. "Good morning, uncle. Won't you join the 'Precious Pearls' in their exercises ?" said Fred. " Don't care if I do," said Mr. Bently. A howl came from the depth of the packing case, where the Damsel Crowned With Rue had taken refuge. A head slowly appeared from the opposite side of the table. " But, uncle, I thought that you didn't approve of poker ?" " That's when your aunt's listening," said Mr. Bently, giving a sly wink. " Whose idea was this ?" " Mine," answered Will. " You see, Aunt Ann insisted on my reading ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,' and I thought that Cassy's racket might work here. It's diplomacy, you know." " And blamed good diplomacy. How do you get up here ?" asked Mr. Bently. " There's a flight of stairs leading from a closet in our room to that door in there," said Fred, pointing to the door in the closet of the room. " Well, it's a mighty good racket so long as your aunt don't investigate," said Mr. Bently. c^p THE NATIONAL NOMINATING CONVENTION. T}RIOR to the year 1825 candidates for President and Vice- A President were nominated by what was called the Con-gressional Caucus. Its power had become so great that a nomi-nation by the Caucus had come to be equivalent to an election. But when it attempted to force upon the people as candidates for the Presidency ir in whom the rank and file of the party did not wish, its usefulness was in question, and because of its persistence 166 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY in such obnoxious actions it lost all its power and influence and came to an inglorious end during the campaign of 1824. Throughout the stage of transition from the Congressional Caucus to the National Nominating Convention the State Legis-lative Caucus assumed the duty of making the presidential nomi-nations. The plan for nominating presidential candidates by means of a national convention had been proposed by different individuals and newspapers opposed to the Congressional Caucus and was under discussion for several years ; but the difficulties in the way, together with the lack of agreement on the part of the people, had prevented a general movement in favor of the plan. Some of the difficulties began to disappear as facilities for com-munication between the States improved with the improved roads and the building of railways. The first call for a national nominating convention was sent out by the Anti-Masonic party in 1830. Thirteen States were represented in this first national convention. An address to the people of the United States was issued and nominations for President and Vice-President were made. The convention idea was now in the air and was promptly adopted by the two great parties. The city of Baltimore has the honor of being the place where candidates for President and Vice-President were first nominated by national conventions. The procedure of these Baltimore conventions was in many particulars much like that of National Conventions to-day. There was the temporary organi-zation, the examination of credentials, the permanent organization, the address to the people setting forth party principles and assail-ing the principles of other parties, the "nominating speeches," and the committee to notify those nominated of the honor conferred. There was no formal"platform " adopted at the first conventions. This feature was introduced by a gathering of young men which met in May, 1832, in the interest of Henry Clay's candidacy. At this meeting a series of resolutions were adopted which, in the language of Mr. Bryce, "constituted the first political plat-form ever put forth by a nominating body." In the National Convention of the present the "platform" occupies a conspicuous place. Three ideas are now seen to enter necessarily into a political platform. There is first a statement of the general fundamental principles for which the party stands. Secondly, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 167 there is a conscious effort to set forth a specific policy to be pursued under existing circumstances and conditions. And, third, the platform carries with it a pledge, stated or implied, that the party will be true to its historic principles and will carry out the policy outlined. The Anti-Masons contributed to convention organization the suggestion that each State should send as many delegates as it had electoral votes, and the National Republicans the suggestion that the delegates be elected by Congressional districts. In the early conventions the number of delegates from each State was not limited, though the number of votes was restricted to the number of electors. For twenty years from 1852 the number of delegates from each State to Democratic conventions was fixed at double the number of electors and each delegate was given a half a vote. In 1872 this rule was changed so as to give to each delegate a full vote and retain the number of delegates at double that of the electors. The Republicans had adopted this latter rule twelve years before, and it is still in force in both parties. Two delegates from each territory are admitted to Republican conventions, with the privilege of voting. Democratic conventions do not grant this privilege to territorial delegates. Since the year 1892 the Republican party requires every State to elect its delegates by Congressional districts. The Democratic party has two methods in general use. The two delegates to which each Congressional district is entitled are chosen by that district, while the State Convention elects the four "delegates-at-large" for the whole State. There is also a difference between the Republican and Democratic Conventions with respect to some other important rules—the Two-Thirds Rule, the Majority Rule and the Unit Rule. The first Democratic Convention adopted a rule declaring "that two-thirds of the whole number of votes in the convention shall be necessary to constitute a choice." This rule has been reaffirmed by every subsequent Democratic Convention. The Majority Rule was adopted by the Whigs in 1840, and is the rule which has been used by the Republican Conventions up to the present time. The first Democratic Convention also adopted a rule which has been understood to give to the majority of the delegates from any State the right to cast the vote of the State. This is known 168 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY as the Unit Rule. It disregards the wishes of the minority in any particular State and at the same time makes it possible for candi-dates to be nominated who are approved by a minority only of the party voters of the country. But as tending to exalt the rights of the State as such, the Unit Rule has been much favored by Democratic State Conventions, which have often instructed their delegates to national conventions to vote as a unit. In Republican National Conventions the Unit Rule never gained foothold, though efforts have been made to impose it upon the party. The rule which is now in force was adopted in 1880. It requires that in case any delegate objects to the announcement made by the chairman of his delegation, "the president of the convention shall direct the roll of members of such delegation to be called and the result recorded in accordance with the votes individually given." The National Nominating Convention has come to be such an important factor in our form of government that every citizen should become as familiar with its organization and manner of working as with the Constitution itself. An insight into the methods of the great political leaders framing the future policies of the nation, together with an opportunity to witness the delib-erations of the men who control the destinies of the country— especially at this important period of our national existence— ought to be sought by every young man who glories in the proud name of an American citizen. "PROMETHEUS." AN EXPOSITION.—THE LAW OF ENERGY. HAVING cut a small square out of a card-board screen, hold the screen in a vertical position near a lighted lamp be-tween the lamp and the wall. In your imagination, connect the corners of the illumined surface on the wall with the corresponding corners of the square hole in the screen. The connecting cords converge, and, if con-tinued through the hole, will meet in the flame of your lamp. The square pyramid thus formed may be seen if there is dust in the atmosphere. The part of this pyramid between the lamp and the screen, is also a pyramid, similarto the whole. By geometry, we know that the sides of these two squares are proportional to their respective distances from the point in the flame where the imaginary cords meet; hence, their areas are proportional to the squares of their distances from the flame. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 169 A bunch of rays of light that will light up the surface the size of the hole in the screen, if let pass on, will illuminate the much larger surface on the wall. Evidently, the degree of brightness is not so. great at the wall as at the screen. This degree of brightness varies as the respective areas, just as a given quantity of paint is four times as thick on a certain surface as on another surface four times as great, supposing it is evenly distributed in each case. But, we have shown that the illumined surfaces are to each other as the squares of the distances from the source of light, hence the first part of the law for the intensity of light energy. The amount of radiant energy of light to the square inch of surface varies inversely as the square of the distance from the source. Now, turn up the wick and the amount is a certain part greater at both places. It can at once be seen that the amount increases in direct ratio with the increase at the source of light. This gives us the second part of the law ; and the entire law may be stated thus: The amount of light received per unit area is inversely pro-portional to the squares of the distances from the source, and directly proportional to the intensity of light possessed by the luminous body. A student of physics has but this one law to learn for intensity of energy, and he may apply it to physical energy of whatever form. By using a screen of alum solution we might produce a similar pyramid of heat energy, able to be outlined as definitely by using a thermometer. You know it better perhaps by trying to get into the shade, as it were, of the hot rays from a stove or grate, by placing a screen, it may be of glass even, before your face. Then, as to the law, how instinctively you move back from a stove becoming too hot. The same law holds the solar system together, and we call the force, there acting in couformity with the law, the force of gravitation. There is also a similar force acting between the earth and objects upon it, and between these objects themselves. This, too, varies inversely as the square of the distances, and directly as the product of the masses. By it, electrical attraction is governed; hence, the specific inductivity of substances. Magnetic force and sound as well as light and heat vary accord-ing to the same law. In short, all physical energy varies inversely as the square of the distance, and directly as the product of the amounts. Nature is simple if we put ourselves into the spirit of her actions. She is open, ready to be read by all who will. As to the degree of energy we have learned her simple law and may apply it theoretically without a question. L,ucus. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. F?. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG . Our collection of Woolens for the coming Kail and "Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing Goods, go to I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON Superintendent. flammelstoiun Bromn Stone Gompany Quarrynieu and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAiHER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay- Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA ■'""■"■""/'*»