The Oklahoma Leader. (Guthrie, Okla.), Vol. 5, No. 46, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1898 Page: 3 of 8
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THE LEADER GOTUlil* OKLAHOMA
LUCKY DAY FOR NORMAN!
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CAPTURES FOOTBALL AND
ORATORICAL CONTESTS.
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JESSE HEFLY WINS PRIZE,
The Third Annual Meeting of the Territorial
Oratorlal A**oeiation a Great SacceM--Ok-
lahoma Talent Shon-n Up in Hood Shape
- - Huby Uou ard tieta Seeond Prime, Km
gao/i. Third and Minnie ita via Fourth
There wa9 a lively tljw of music and
oratory last night al the MeKennon
opera house ou occasion of tbe third
atiuual territorial oratorial contest
Tue house was packed to the doors
with people from all parts of the terri-
tory. Tbe four college teams assem-
bled early and for one hour caused an
ungodly noise with fish horns, kazoos
and whistles. Emblems and colors
flished here and there and town pa-
triotism and loyalty was .uppermost
The exercises were opened bv selec-
tions from the brass bands of Still-
water and Edmond colleges, which
were seated at the back of the pro-
fusely decorated stage
J. T Clark, of Stillwater, president
of the Olli iert>' Territorial associaton.
delivered the address of welcome. He
dwelt at length on the progress of the
association and tbe good it had done.
He told of the advantages of the dif-
ferent territorial institutions and was
felicitous in his remarks touching col
lege oratory. Mr. Clark's remark!
were thoughtful and received respect-
ful attention.
Mrs Nellie Love-Wilson, of King
fisher college, was introduced and ren
dered a pleasing vocal solo.
The first contestant was Miss Minnie
Davis, of Kingfisher Congregational
college. Mibs Davis is a p epossessing
young ladv and her effort showed
thought Her delivery was marked
with feeling and her enunciation and
pronunciation were faultless Follow-
ing is Miss Davis' valuable paper in
full:
"Jean Valjean."
Nineteen hundred years ago, the
Rftvior of our race was born in a
"borrowed" manger. Above that
lowly bed the Star of Bethlehem paus-
ed and cast its quiet rays upon the
sleeping: babewhlle the sky was vocal
with the wonderous chorus of the an-
gels singing, "Peace on earth good will
to men."
The centuries have passed and still
around the figure of that man of sor-
rows clusters every ideal of purity,
power and sacrifice. Leave out of the
story of man that life with Its sorrows
in Getheaemenf, its heroism of Cal-
vary, its wisdom upon the Mount of
Olives, and the hlstry of the world
for nineteen centuries were altogether
different. That life as Inspired In the
hearts of millions that longing for per-
fect character, that passionate loyalty
to the Idea he represents, that have
made the heroes and martyrs of the
cross and the reformers who have
made the world anew.
Yet, withal, there Is a sadness In
man.s strife for the realization of the
perfection found in the Savior. "Temp-
tea in all points like as we are, yet
without sin"—that sentence makes us
think of him as other quality than our-
selves. For oh, how many times we
have sinned. Our sin Is all prevadlng.
It has stained our souls with crime.
Can we, with our load of guilt, hope
ever to reach the summit on which the
noe man stands glorified in heaven's
smile? We bow our heads in deapest
shame and own our inability to at-
tain the highest, for no man since has
ever elimed it. Yet shalllt be that men
shall one day be like him? Breath
deeper of his spirit, shall they walk
with him, talk with him, and be as he—
the meek and lowly one crowned with
thorns yet divine?
Whether this be psslble in this
world or only in some far future state,
in the land that "ends our dark, un-
certain travel," 1 Is the dream of the
race, the longing of the heart in its
diviner mood, the prophecy of what
shall be.
The genius of Victor Hugo has em-
bodied this thought in his hero, Jean
Valjean. On him we have a picture of
ourselves going down into the depth?
of sin and wretchedness, the soul
growing harder and fiercer until it has
sounded the depths of human passion,
then rising sinking, rising and risinp
Mill, until the horror of the past Is
gone forever, and he who was the con-
vict is the saint.
The first scene in the life of Jean
Valjean shows him to us as he stands
before a breed shop looking in at the
tempting loaves. Poverty is Indeed
written upon that face, but there Is not
n trace of guilt. Innocent of wrong,
unformed for good or evil, he looks at
the frail piece of glass that separates
him from oomfort and perhaps life.
He has reached a crisis—only a plate
of glass, how easily broken. And the
knawlng pain would be gone; yet he
hesitates. But hark! What cry is
Is that sounding in his ears? "Bread,
bread, or we die,"wail, pitiful, childish
voices—a sharp crash, the glass falls
in fragments, and Jean Valjean hap
committed a crime. The law ha?
marked him out for punishment. Nev-
er again will he be the innocent boy
Who that morning walked the streets
of Paris.
Nineteen years pass and again
meet him—but alas! the change! Can
human nature be utterly transformed
In place of the innocent boy, a man-
no not a man—a friend incarnate
stands before the old bishop and offers
him a bit of yellow paper—the convicts
passport from the galleys. The dirty
face, the unkept beard, the fierce gleani
of the evil eye, the swaggering form
and sullen voice proclaim what nine
teen years have done for the man who
was convicted for stealing a loaf of
bread;yet he had sinned ignorantly and
had suffered and hated in the dense
darkness of his clouded spirit. Surely
such wrong doing leaves no such scar
upon the soul as the sin that is de-
liberate. May not the convict's soul
be born again?
Jesus had a vantage ground that does
pot belong to the sinner. Before he
was tempted he had seen glory. Jean
Valjean saw it after he had fallen.
Now, when he had fallen into the pit
of hell, the glory flashes onhls soul,
When the grand old bishop Jnvites the
outcast from the galleys to supper and
bed. He is dazpled as by a flash of
lightning his brain Is stunned, bu
the hard face gives no response. Not
in a moment can the soul become free
/ from error and wrong. The wings by
which the spirit of Jean Valjean was to
fly to heaven were yet In embryo, but
the mighty struggle was on by which
he must fly or sink to still lowerdepths.
About 2 o'clock in the morning a sun-
beam shining throug a broken cloud
illuminated th? peaceful face of the
sleeping bishop, while over him stands
the ex-convlct with a crowbar grajped
In his hands. What terlble deed Is he
about to commit? Surely something
must restrain him! Is the Christ-like
kindness of the bishop all for nothing?
He is hesitating between two abysses
—the one that destroys and the one that
saves. He is ready to dash out the
bishop's brains or kiss his hand. The
good Impulse is only partly trlum-
umphant. Bewildered by the strange
Impressions that strive to posseB him
the opposite promptings of the good
angle and the bad, he suddenly drops
his weapon, walks to the cupboard and
taking the sllvei In it, leaves the
house. In the morning, as a prisoner
of the law, he Is again confronted by
the bishop. Sullenly he stands while
he Is accused, expecting only a life sen-
tence to the galleys. Amazed, he hears
the bishop tell the officers of the law
that he gave him the sliver, and then
faintly struggling with the horror of
nineteen years, he listens to the divine
words of his benefactor: "Jean Val-
jean, my brother, you no longer belong
to evil, but to good. 1 have bought
your soul of you. 1 withdraw It from
black thought and give It to God."
What emotions were taking possession
of this man? Were his longing for re-
venge and his hatred for mankind van-
ishing? Yet nineteen years ofwicked-
ness and Injustice eanmjt be effaced by
one good deed. A reaction set in.
Walking along the road he met a little
boy tossing up and catching a piece of
money. Finally he missed It and It
rolled to the feet of Jean Valjean, who
placed his foot upon It. "Give me my
coin, please, sir," said the ehlld. "Be
off", said the man, but the boy sob-
blnly entreated for his money. The coc-
vict in all his hideous fierceness
started after him, and the frightened
boy ran at full speed.
Sudenly Jean Valjean shuddered.
What had he done? Again the words
of the bishop sounded in his ears. "You
no longer belong to evil, but to good."
Humiliation, deep repentence seized
him. Eagerlyhe called for the child,
that he might restore his money, but
there was no response. What would
he not give to be able to undo this
wrong? His heart melted, and for th<
first time since when nineteen years be-
fore he wept on his way to the galleys,
the tears poured down his hard cheeks
and surely the angles In heaven sang
over the soul that was born anew.
Years passetl by and the name of
Jean Valjean became unknown to the
world, but the man lived, working and
doing good, under the name of Father
Madelene. A self-sacrificing man was
Father Madelene, kind and loving,
honored and esteemed by all—no not
all—for there was a police agent, Javut,
who often looked upon him with cold,
suspicious eyes which seemed to say
"I know you." One morning Javut In-
formed Father Madelene that he had
suspected him of being Jean Valjean.
but that his suspicions were unfounded
for now the r >al Jean Valjean had been
found and his trial would soon take
place.
A terrible moment had come. A shock
that might ruin the soul of Jean Val-
jean. The alluring voice of hypocrity
whispered uneesingly, "Providence has
done it all. Let the useless fellow suf-
fer while you go on with your pious
life." But Insistent conscience would
not rest. Again and again she spoke to
him of the innocent man going in his
stead to the terrible galleys to wear
out hlsllfe among their brutal hor-
rors. Then calmly In the still air a
voice seemed to call to him: "Jean Val-
jean, my brother, you no longer be-
'ong to evil, but to good. I have
bought your soul of you. I withdraw
it from black thought and give It to
Ood." Peradventure for agood man one
might even dare to die—for an Inocent
man Jean Valjean had resolved upon
that which is far worse than death.
You who doubt the strength of the ex-
convict go with him to the trial of the
accused man. Everything goes against
the poor prisoner, and he is almost
lost when a man arises and stands be-
fore the assembled people. He Is very
pale and trmbless slightly. There is a
moment's silence, and then a gentle
voice is heard: "Gentlemen of the
Jury, quit your prisoner. Th e man
.vhom you are seeking is not he, for
I am Jean Valjean."
Time moves on and another cha:,ge
comes Into the life of this man who
?eems to be the plaything of fate. He
s not again returned to the galleys,
)ut he becomes a fugitive from Justice
A little girl has been left in his charge
ind now he takes possession of her
Something new has entered his life
He has someone to love and provide for
Tenderly he guards this child and pro
motes her happiness to the best of his
iblllty while he is constantly avoiding
the relentless Javut,who Is always upon
his track.
From place to place he flees, taking
the child with him and suffering
very inconvenience for her sake.
Never was father kinder to his own
child than Is Jean Valjean to this lit
orphant. He had found her i
poor, overworked, half famished little
creature, and had taken her as she was
xnd loved her. Now she had grown to
be a beautiful young woman, and dur-
ing all these years his love and kind-
ness have never for a moment faltred.
Why can she not be content with such
i love? Does she find It insufficient.
Apparently she does for she
loves a young man, Marius, with
ill the passion of her nature and her
love is returned. And how does the
knowledge of this state of affairs affect
Jean Valjans? The thought of losing
his child causes him more pain than
he has ever before experienced. His
thoughts fly back over all the years
they-have spent together. She Is a lit-
tle child again, holding his hand and
looking up into his face with great
trusting eyes—trusting him, the ex
convict, the galley slave, how his heart
*hun and dlBplse. Oh, how his heart
thrills! He, to whom love and kind-
ness have been unknown, now feels the
tender, dinging love of the child. Then
she grows up always reverencing and
respecting him. How can he give her
up? Surely he deserves this love. It is
good for his soul and only Just and
right that he should keep it. She Is
his all In all. Never can another take
her place. Old age is upon him, and
)n the desolate loneliness before him
Another thought takes possession
him worse than all others. Oh, mis
>ry beyond comparison! she must learn
all his dark history and her respect
will be turned to hatred. There is lit-
tle wonder that in this terrible strug-
gle a demon of anguish, a demon of
wickedness strove to possess him. The
struggle' between man and demon was
a fierce one, but if there be any doubt
as to which was victor look upon this
man as he carries the half lifeless
body of Marius away from the barri-
cade. A subterranean sewer offers the
only means of escape. Without hesi-
tation he enters this walking on and
on in the pitchy darkness, staggering
beneath his load, sometimes wading in
the deep water, sometimes stooping to
avoid the low roof. Now he steps Into
the uwfulmire, deeper and deeper he
sinks—to his waist—to his armpits, yet
always clinging to his apparently life-
less burden, holding him high above his
head. Down— down—down—slowly,
inch by Inch, yet he never ceases strug-
gling to move onward. Surely he will
perish! No. he is saved! His foot
has struck the rocky bottom. Hunger
and thirst assails him. Weariness al-
most over-masters him. still he presses
forward until at last he escapes from
that living death and Marius Is saved
—for what purpose? That he may de-
prive his re«cuer of the only being on
earth whom he loves. Surely now Jean
Valjean has conquered self! Is not
every part of evil In his nature des-
troyed? Yet he can go ast^p higher.
Is there no limit to his self-scrlflce? It
happens that his bitterest enemy. Javut
falls Into his hands at the barricade.
He had been taken as a spy, and Jean
Valjean is appointed to kill him.
Quietly he leads him forth from the
towd, releases his bonds nd gives him
his liberty.
This act brings another scene before
le minds. In untold agony a man
hangs on a cross between two thieves
rowd stands by Jeering and mock-
ing, but the pale murmur, ' Father for-
give them,they know not what they
do." Jean Valjean's work upon the
aarth is almost accomplished. But a
few years more and all sufferings,
struggles and temptations are passed
and his soul has taken its flight heav-
enward to dwell forever with the great
ideal man who upon earth he has so
losely imitated. "I have bought your
soul of you," said the bishop," "1 with-
draw it from black though and give it
to God," and his wordshad been veri-
fied.
Jean Valjean Is only a character In a
novel, but are there no Jean Val-
eans in real life. The suffering he
underwent, the temptations he exper-
ianced are real enough— and do mort-
al men always faint and yield? Oh,
The strivings of humanity do not
always end in nothing. The blood shed
alvary was not in vain. The pas-
sionate longing to be nobller, purer,
better, Is in the hearts of millions of
men even today. Too long we hve lin-
gered In the "slough of despond." de-
claring ourselves "worms of the dust."
This Is only a half truth. We are cre-
ated In the image of God, crowned with
glory and honor, set but little lower
than the angles. Christ is the "only
begotten son of God," but In a large
and real sense we are his brothers.
This Is the dignity with which heaven
has blessed us. this Is the Inspiring
motive force that should fill pure
souls. The kingdom of God is with-
in us. Through the power of the
spirit inbreathed into our lives we en-
ter into the divine promts that "we
shall be like him."
Day after day you may meet Jean
Valjeans in the risen state, walking
the streets and crowding the work-
shops—unknown and unrewarded In thi*
There are also the Jean Valjeans?
in the pits of sin and dlspalr awaiting
only the helping hand of the bishop to
save them.
Is there not In every human soul a
primary spark, a divine element which
good c an cause to glow and glisten and
hich evil can never entirely extin-
guish. Ah, would that there were more
bishops! When the earth shall pass
away and the graves shall give up
their dead and al are assembled before
the omnipotent Judge on the great,
throne, then, and only then, shall the
Jean Valjeans be recognized and duly
rewarded. For them await eternal
peace, joy. rest and dally communion
with the great Ideal.
•ofcd
A vocal solo was attempted by Mrs
vlurdough of Edmond, but owing to
loartieuefB she was forced to denist
tier son, Master Murdough, la er tilled
ler number with a solo entitled
Dreamland Faces."
' Fatalisms in History" was tbe tub
ject of tbe contesting oration entered
ny Miss Ruby Howard on behalf of the
Edmond Normal. The young lady's
delivery was good, and her 6tsge pies
mce admirable. Her paper showed
research and the composition was
creditab'e:
•• Fatalism In History."
Mi68 Ruby Howard, of Edmond,
spoke on "Fatalism in History," as
follows:
Wonderful is the history of man—a
strange, fascinating, thrilling ro
mance!
Stranger still is that fate which map*
out the future and drives man on to
fulfil his destin)! History ia like some
powerfull masterpiece in music; and
the great thought running through
that music may be likened to the hand
of God in the wotld's mighty drama
As the muttio without the soul has no
meaning, so history without percep
t'on of the divine purpose is a study
if dead forms, of useless bloodshed—of
the body, not tbe living beart—of
mankind.
A grand purpose, a noble end, may
be discerned threading tbe history o'
mar: the betterment of the human
race. To reach this end there are
neans which mortal mind cannot al
ways fathom. Fate crushes one na-
tion that another may rise; the blood
if heroes is shed that some principle
may live, and out of despotism blos-
soms liberty.
Men are born with tbe stamp of fate
on their brows—good or ill In the
poet's words:
Shakespeare meant the destiny of
individuals. How much more uoes
divinity shape the ends of nation
Nothing can change this destiny. No
p >wer can alter the will of that being
the ancients called Fate; but Christian
nations, God.
"Fact is stranger than fiction " His
cory more romautic, more interesting,
than strongest novel or sweetest poet-
ry. God is history's author. Charac-
ter and plota spring from All Wis-
dom's fount. History's author deter-
mines the fulfilment of a purpose; a
being is fitted by the eternal God for
accomplishment. Comes the oppor-
tunity, Fats presents the man
Man can no more raise himself above
tiis natural sphere than water can rise
above its source.
Something almost pathetic is in this
struggle against destiny. Man is
lifted to the loftiest pinacle; then, his
work finished, falls Creature sinks
to nothingness; deeds live forever.
Man seems but the instrument of Fate
History shines with characters who&e
achievements, whpse lives, were the
result, not of birth, wealth, or genius,
but the compelling force of destiny
Sovtth of France, surrounded by
sweet waters, overarched by heaven's
blue canopy, ltes a beautiful island
Mountains proudly rear t now-crowned
heads; valleys smile with golden bar
vests; forests cast their cool, fragrant
shadows. Such the isle of Corsica, a
century ago acarcely known in Europe
today farted as the fatherland, the
cradle of the greatest general the
world has ever seen—the immortal
Napoleon Bonaparte.
In Alaccio hla baby eyes first looked
out upon the world he was soon to
sway. What would hia little lips hsve
uttered had apeech been his? Surely,
had come come whisper of future fame.
Surely, he felt the touch of fortune's
magic wand. Strange! Fate choie
this frail baby to rule the world-
of an impoverished lawyer, one
large family, with no hope l>
simple citizenship, or perchance a
aoldiut'a life of hardship At hi
birtL Corsica was the Cuba «<f t. au« a
Her revenge c*ute—the su aiigeal. the
most b'gual which a wiotiged people
ever ei joyed She gave to t rance
Napoleon. For every eiyiug citizen,
for eyery aching heart, a thousand
were in France, that tno ambition of
one Corsicau might b gratified
Napoleou grew to manhood. At
school for five years, a pensioner of
the king, to none was revealed that
geniua, afterwards to conquer a world
in arms. Later, the idol * f his sol-
dier*, of his country, there ho failed
to win one frieud. Ilo bivaiue a sous-
lieutenaut and hia life, the life of u
soldier, begcti in earnest liis passion
ate soul tired by ambition'a spark, his
unconquerable geniua b.'gan 10 glow.
The time was ripe; a world's worit was
to do; the portal* of glory were open,
and Fate chose Napoleon to enter in
His life crisis had couio, coincident
with tbe mightiest in the history of
France—aye, of the world
The comtition of France ia itdoscrib-
able. Wreck, ruin, degradation, her
ror, were depicted in the very counte-
nance of her citizens. No law in
heaven or in earth was recognized.
Sympathy, loyalty, honor, were all sub-
servient to ambition aud an unquench
ble thirst for blood A black cloud
enveloped what once was gay. frivol
ous France. A mere speck in the blue
sky, it grew till sun, heaven, God, were
were shut from view. The people had
at last brokeu their chains, thrown ofT
the galling yoke, dethroned their king
and butchered their oppressor*. They
instituted a republic—a republic where
ruled the vilest men God ever created
Danton, Marat, Robespierre swayed
this republic of blood. At last in
Paris, Redden with -gore, her people
shuddering with honor, a reaction
came and France awoke from her
ghastly dream The awful cloud wa«-
past, and the sound of guns, directed
by Napolean, ushered in a now era
The revolution brought forth a genius
a director, a controller of the storm
Fate oponed the pirtMs of Deatlnv.
France, kneeling at Nip-dean's fe^t.
offering up life and liberty upon the
altar of his genius, knew in him her
deliverer, her hero. Full armed by
Destiny, ho sprang from the ranks to
command mighty armies — through
him, the flower of Europe's chivalry
Nation after nation fe'l. Victory
followed victory. Even defeats were
made steps to glory. Each da? gave
him a new horizon. Extraordinary
triumphs thunder-struck old 13 ti rone's
walls and lifted Franco to the pinna-
cle of pride aud power.
Not ours to mark his strides to fame;
to watch the workings of that restless,
tireless brain, but instead to trace the
finger print of Destiny upjn the pages
of his life.
Circumstances befell in Napoleon's
career which changed the whol < char-
acter of his plans, setting a*, naught
the efforts of even hin genius Not
the most skeptical can fail to sne Fate
the Euperhuman power, manifested
on-e and yet again
L^t us pause a moment in the recital
of Napoleon's deeds to behold tho won
derful workings of Fate in choosing a
companion to share hia life glory
Another island far removal from
Corsica, in another clime in other
waters'. Never did poet dream of
fairer land than Martinique, clothed iu
all the luxuriance of tho tropics; lulled
by gentlest breeze, aid shaded by
waving trees and towering mountains
Swaying lightly to and fro in her ham
mock under a ta'l palui. surrounded by
slaves, their dusky limbs scarce veiled
reclines a young girl, full of beauty
and grace, dreaming of the future
Listening to the 6oft voice we catch
the whispered words: "Thou slialt be
eiueen of France; ayt! more than
queen " The airy fancies of youth are
limitless; yet tho young girl seems to
overstep the very boundaries of reason
n dreaming over this idle prophecy.
Aye! moro than queen." Hut the
niece of a plante! Ller court, a few
barefoot negro girls! Besides the day
of her wedding was 6et—to a man
whose prospect for ruling nations was
as slight as her own. Josephine left
her island homo, tho bride of (Jen
Heauharnais. Amid tho gay scenes of
Paris all thought of tho strango pre-
diction passed away.
Time sped on. The 6weet girl
ripened into the cuhured woman
Children clung to bor knee and life
was very pleasant. Then cuue the
horrors of the revolution The bus
bind of Josephine, innocentof thought
against his country, his only crime
noble birth and good breeding, wa*
reft from tha embrace of wife and
hildreu, imprisoned and fiually be
headed. The young wife was cast in
chains.
Slowly those long sad days pissed
for unhappy Josephine. At last came
the hour of doom. A street sympa
thetic manner had won her many
friends among the prisoners, and as
they pa'bored around her weeping
be recalled that strange prediction of
her girlhood. "We have no cause for
alarm my friends. It is written 111 the
decrees of fate that I am yet to be
queen of France " That night through
the gloomy prison walls, into heart*
dark with dispair, burst tlie blazi of
noonday joy The la^t tyrant had
fallen and they were free. Fate had
corquered. A rich crown was destined
to reBt on the head of tho gentle
widow.
And now, thatstrangodeatiny which
had drawn Napoleon aud Josephine
from their widely separated island
nouies, brings them together in Paris.
Both realize that no more can they
exist apart; that it is fated for them to
blend their destinies. By different
paths, each climb9 to giory and to
fame. Ou mountain top they meet;
and all the earth yields them homage.
Josephine, from the wife of a poor sol-
dier, rises to be consort of the fir-t
eonsul; then empress of France The
strange prophecy Qf her girlhood wa-
fulfilled. She indead was more than
queen All that wealth, all that honor,
all that power could offer was hers
Napoleon now at the height of his
marvelous fortune?, looked down from
the dizzy sumits of military power and
glory, to beho'.d enduring f une Hat
unbridled ambition overleaped the
bounds of prudence and ol wisdom,
lie, the invincible foe of nat ons, was
600n to feel the iron scourgo and tbe
torturing hour Fate's purpose was
fulfilled. God had finished with the
man. Human motives spurred him
forward} on in his courbo, ho went—
and fell.
The measures used to perpetuate his
name and race served best for bis de-
feat, his ruin. Though ruling over
half IOurope, yot his ambliion is not
satisfied. He strives to gain al'; fails,
and his fortunes are buried with hlB
magnificent army in the snows of Rus-
sia. He cast aside hia faithful Jose-
phine to wed the daughter of Austria
—woed with the thunder music of his
guns, and won thro' chivalrous defer-
ence to her womanhood, shown mid
battle rage, dying c roan a and victor
shouts. For he war's fury ceased a'
her command. Though lovtd with all
the terrible energy of his nature, hon-
ored as mother of Rome's king, faith-
}eis she in gloom's dark hour. For-
Geniua I thunderuig ava'anehe of rrrogretM hn
ler aud ' come sweep,ag do^u v\ ith m intgni
born ( *aken, bereft, the end come*.
of a J against fate! Tbe greai soldier
uier has tearu«d humility, t>ut loo fo ces over \ he sleeping centuries
aW. He had built au euip ro from has roun el ilir natiou ievm their
lutiunary chaos; b sziued it with 1 different slu.nbera. When
f >reig i power; ro
should b • shack ed a
■ taxation without
ah the pouip of power; \ei it fell
he, like the Kouiau, sai *uitd ita ruiua.
liebold the * man of oestiuf" be-
trayed by a trusted general, and
driven forth to little Elbs! hut he to
whom half Europe seemed a province
was not content He broke bis bonds;
hurled hinn eif over intervening seas;
stamped bis foot on France's shore,
aud a hundred thousand men sprang
to arms Again the idol of a nation,
out short lived hia secoud glory.
VVaterloe' And Napoleon fell from
earthly power forever.
Quickly, sadly tbe scene baa changed-
Froin the glories, the power of ruler of
a world, kings and priucea vleing each
with tho other in doing him homage,
to a lonely rock in tbe Atlantic far
away, not one white sail seen against
the ocean's blue, the discrowned em-
peror has come. He, courted by
thousands, who knew no law save his
own will, now guarded like a crimi-
nal! That devouring ambition which
strove to make Europe its domain and
found no rest in its march to immor-
tality, ia confined to tho precincts of
au Atlantic rock. That prodigious en-
ergy which overawed the world
bounded within the narrow limits of a
captive's lif, !
What liis thoughts no histeiry can
tell. Hut, U! the anguish of that heart
—tho bitter pridn, the stifled ambition,
the dark despair! See him treading
o'er and o'er the narrow, hated isle;
straining Lis eyes upon that vast ex-
panse rolling between him and his bo-
loved France; praying for one moineut
to feel the hot battle blood leap again
and his heart throb at the shout of
victory. Only once to hear the voices
of his beloved soldiers!
His proud spirit was broken; his
once tireless brain aweary. He had
enj jyeel and suffered all that earth
could give The little Corsican, the
great soldier, the mighty emperor, had
tinished his courso. As tho soul tore
itself away an awful tempest raged
and roared against his island rock.
Lightnings gleamed, great waves
lashtd tho shores, heaven and earth
m«'t ij Despair's dark vloom
Wo turn from St. Helena's stormy
shores to France's glowing skieB, fres-
coed with tho glorios of hia mighty
deeds.
Tho influence he exerted upon his-
tory's course is without parallel. His
) *;poiill scepter touched old Europe's
despotisms. They ruled, tottered, fell
toribon>moie lie laid hia mailed
hand on Italla's classic brow. She
awo.ee from her troubled dream of
centuries Ho placed the sacred chal-
ice to her ejuivering lipi. Deeply she
drank of Liberty's sweet waters. De-
stroy ing the old Germanic league, Na-
poleon gave birth to that imperial
unity which has made Germany master
of Continental K iropo. Spain alone,
of all that bowed, lingers in the
mighty march of nations. Her gov
eminent toppied at hia stroke. Her
people refused to feel his healing
touch.
Napoleon dead llii name a memory
Aye, but the influence of his great
spirit could brook no check by Eu-
rope's, Africa's bounds Nj bugle
rang or cannon roared; no army's
trump was heard; no gleaming sword
was upraised. A simple pen-stroke
at his will made this, our lar d, the
brightest star in nations' galaxy—a
mighty sun of liberty to illuminate a
world Rolling prairies, lowering
mountains, snow-crowned in gliBten-
ing splendor, broad rivers coursing to
the sea and bearing on their botouis
the products of every clime, were given
for Freedom's home. High on Fame's
trumpet roll must ever stand the name
of li inaparte richly l.lazoned on the
scroll of Destiny for this one deed.
The granary of the world, the in
spirer of hope to slave iu darkest
Afiica, the guardian of tho weak, de
liveror of tho oppressed, reaching from
pole to pole, her shores lashed by At
lantic's roar and kUsed by Pacific's
Iu ling waves, tho mistress of a world
through deedsof lovo, of mercy, A mer-
le a, the universal republic of a day
now dawning shalls'and forth blessed
among the nations of the earth, and
this through great souled Napoleon
the man of destiny, whose fame will
live on and on till time Ehall bo no
more.
0 spirit of the mighty Corsican, be
hold vour wondrous deed! Your once
awful name in arched o'er from ocean
to ocr an a* a bow of promise to com-
ing generations You, called in story,
destroyer, despot, murderer, are but
the instrument of fate, the appointed
of Jehovah, to uplift a world to the
"peace tbat passeth understanding"—
freedom and equality.
Your star has not set. Even now it
is but. rising in dazzling splendor to
hed thy light of glory on nations yet
unborn. A universe, at peace in lib-
ft'tv, shall chant the chorus of thy
famo, tho J man of destinj !
Fatalism in history! 1 sc^rn the
word. The mightv canvas by the God
of Nations is unrolled; and each child
of His is but the instrument of a pur-
pose, high aud holy.
A vocal solo, "Wai log" was superblv
sung by Mrs E 0. Stevenson, of Still-
water, with Miss King as accompauist
She was given a rapturona encore and
responded to tho accompaniment of
the Stillwater orchestra
Miss Emma Swope, of Stillwater
Agricultural and Mechanical college
captured the audience by a m-s erl.v
oration on "Tbe March of Progress."
Her voice rang out clearly and dis
linctly, her modulation was good and
her every movement showed thorough
knowledge of theelocutionary art. Why
she was not awarded first prize is, in-
deed, a mystery.
••The Mareh Qf I'royn
Miss Emma Swope, of Stillwater,
spoke as follows ou ' The March of
Progress." Her oration was as fol-
lowh;
Pre gres6 is inevitable. From the
days of antiquity man has been striv-
ing to solve tbe one all important
problem—the problem cf human des-
tiny. it is with man that progress has
to deal. Man is the fjundation stone
upon which tbe natijn rears its homes,
its palaces, its altars. Man is tbe pot
tery and be moulds the fortunes of the
human race; he is tho architect and
builder of the nation. Through tbe
countless ages we read the joys, the
sorrows, tho defeat", the victories, in
the development of men—in men as
mortals, in men as single, determinate
factors, which, when brought into a
responsive and harmonious whole,
work miracles in art, in science and in
progress As rations have rison to
shino tho brightest stars and then
been dimmed by some moro glorious
constellation; as the sun of intellect
has been radiating forth its splendor;
as human greatnens has been weighed
in the balances of righteous equity, we
have been able to scan the neav >ns,
and read beneath, around and above
all, tbe one predominating idea, the
on-tnaroh of progress is determined by
individualism
When there has heen individualism,
tbere has been progress; when there
ha9 been individualism, there bas been
glorious achievement It is then the
the etfo-|
been iu a state of lethargy, uanou* too
have tain dormant, vVhen uations America
have lacked this man-power, they have j commor
lacked all; for individualism issuprenu !
Individualism ia everything. Thus has
it ever been; and as long as Father
Time turna tno hour-glas* of eternity,
ihia force will continue to keep true
sod measured cadence to the march of
ages
Turning to the past, behold the As-
syrias.sand Babylonians groaning aud
struggling under the bonds of a cruel
task master—despotism! Despotism
upon tbe throne, despair wilhiu the
hove)! Heboid Egypt, once lowering
above the world, she was foremost in
art and science, shorn of her tnaiciidl
grandeui! Her glory has grown dim
and is darkened by the shadows of the
gloomy centuries closing around her
The personal rights of those once pow-
erful nations yielded precedence to the
laws of despotio government* Man
lacked the moral power to assert his
individuality. The freedom of man-
and-man was fettered aud now the
specters of the far di6taut past point a
war -ing Unger to the victims of a
bondage worse than death India,
China, the banks of the Eupbrites.
and tbe valley of the Nile—all bear
witness to the lethargy in which ihe
human race was wrapped
Hut it left for Greece, a little penin-
sula in the Mediterranean, to plant
the germ of liberty, that germ nour-
ished by the individualism of the few
when straggling for the hegemony of
states. The first step in the great on-
inarch! Ilera'd it from sea to sea!
Proclaim it from nation to nation! Tho
genesis of freedom! The hegemony
of Grccce proclaims it! And in Athens,
freedom-loving Athens, tho spirit ot
man asserted itself. Pericles, the
great law-giver, was the man for the
times: but upon his death Athens was
left without ahead, aud her sovereign
ty was no moro. Her greatness was
traniDled by the powerful and over-
whelming inroads of tho Macedonians
Hut Macedonia, too, shall fall! I'pon
the loss of her one great individual—
Alexander—she pauses forever into
oblivion.
And Rome, tho mighty western em-
pire, also felt the need • f this great
force The failure of the Romans to
withstand the evils of slavery was the
first down ward step. Close upon the
loss of liberty caine the loss of vtriut;
with tho loss of virtue camo tho loss
of vigor; anel with the loss of these her
proud supremacy disappeared from bi>
an history.
Thus we see these once powerful
worlei-factors sinkiug into the oblivion
of blackest midnight, and simply for
want of tbat element in man's
character which leads him to assert
his principles—individualism.
L?t us advance down Iho slowly
moving ceuturies Heboid tho cloud
lifting from the heads of tho English
people. Itehold the little island
brooded in tho darkness of despair
and the people gioanlng under the
tyranny of avaricious ki.gs Itehold
them brought out of bondage by wrest-
ing from tho tyraunleal John the
Magna Charta—the embodiment of
liberty to tbe Koiilish raco Ideal
Magna Charte! To thee we Americans
owe the gratitude of patriotic hearts
Thou hast been the saviour of our na-
tion. And with thee another and
greater impulse has been given to the
march of progress throughout tho
world.
Hut progress again was checked
The man for tho advancing times dio
ot appear. Darkness succeeded the
first beaming of tiie light. Tho morn
ng star heralding the dawn was
dimmed by the serfdom of the many
and the aggrandizement of tho few;
by a system which bound individual-
ism for centuries and held in its invio-
lable grasp the destinies of feudalism.
Is freedom to be ever fettered thus?
Is there no ray of light for tho oncom-
ing ages? Is tho highest and holiesi
in man thus to be sacrificed to the will
of the suzerain; is tho serf forever to
own him lord and mastei? Nay. Out
of the awfulness of the impending
gloom comes tho mighty answer. "In
the sight ot God all n en are crcatdd
free and equal:" Wrongs arouso to
action. Man is coming to himself
The conta/ion spreads from realm to
realm. Man dreams of a miilenial lib
erty He 1b awakened from his sleep.
He is ready for action. Tho man for
the hour comes, aud listen while he
•all': "The dav of freedom is at
hand." Lmther sounds the bujrle-note
of liberty 8°ethe seething and sway
Ing of the multitudes as their souls are
torn in tho agonie* of despair. It
soems that all must bo lo6t in this ter-
rible warfare, this struggle for roligi
oub freedom Hut right conquers
might, and individualism is victor
Another link in the chain of progress
The peopleof England again kind.ed
the fires of liberty, and the days of the
Magna Charta were repeated. Wrongs
• gain called to action, and man vva«
-eady at the summons Through the
days of Cromwell, through the revolu
tion of 1688, man was fast beioming
the supremo factor in tho destiny ol
England; and the divine right of kings
srave way to the "tiiviue right of
man "
Not alone in England, not alone in
Germany, but also in France, was the
c ntest waged. In the madness an<
terror of desperation, tho hunger
stricken mob razed tbe institutions of
church and state, and the way whs
oaved for a Napoleon. By rnan th
French revolution—that thundcrstom
of individual wrath, that volcano o<
individual rago, was precipitated; and
by man's united efforts, b> his awaw
ened self-powers, it was brought to its
glorious liberty-working consumma-
tion; and mau acknowledged thai
progress is his ruler.
Hut the climax was reached with
the discovery of tho New World By
the outgrowth of one man's mind canit
the 6uccor of millions. To his pro
gressive spirit we are indebted for on«
of the grandest homes ever bestowed
upon man, a laad wo love and rever-
euce with all tho ardor of true Amer
icanism. Behold Columbus kneeling
prostrate before tho haughty F*rdi
nat d and the gentle Isabolla, suing t-
undertake that achievement which
mean) so much to us: the rights ol
home and freedom, where we have free
press, free speech, free altars. This
was indiviflualism unmeasured This
was another bigherround in the grand
ascent of progress
Man still asserting bis own powers,
man leaving his home and crossing the
stormy waters of tho Atlautio to
haven where he could raise his voice
In prayer to a freedom loving God, at
a free altar, by his own free hearth
stone, was another type of the onward
movement. Tbrouvh the individual
isra of the Pilgrim Fathers in their lit-
Us weatherbeaten craft, the May
flower, we are enabled to celebrate p
never ending Thanksgiving. And lo!
progress moves onward.
As the mother country was prepar-
ing to press beneath tho conquoror's
foot the necks of the American people,
the individualism of our forefathers
was aroused. No longer American
homes should render allegiance to a
longer America
ud fettered; but
representation is
-• claimed by Otia, tbe
H v, lution Through
Washington*
If-' a. 1 uutramelled
' of the
boll proclaim" libori)" *aa .*oly a
re-echoing of e heart beais of Arner-
lea's sons and >u titers -bean-beata
that have been felt around the world;
heart beats meaning n 1 that i highest,
and most sacred to Americsn manhood
— liberty.
Tho foremost in this great otiiuarch
ia America, ller principles of individ-
ual advancement are tho prineiples
that shall lead the oncoming genera-
tions That, spirit w Inch gave rise to
the constitution of the United States
is shaking monarchy to its founda-
tions. Despotic power can not stand
before the will of man: the will of one
man multipled by millions. When we
unfurl the stnrs and s ripes to the
brrt z i, nations take cognizance and
man is supreme. The blood of our
fo efathers was spilled that we might
bo out of bondage. They gave us
home, friends, and that which was
dearest, life, that we might proclaim
our individualism- that we might ex-
emplify in this fair land of ours the
true law of progress.
Thoconstitution of the United Statea
—tbat which wo abide as loyal citizens
of a free commonwealth—was the out-
come of the truest Individualism, that
individuality prompted by a love for
fellow man. The makers of that in-
strument, those who labored bo earn-
estly, so faith fully for its establish-
ment have therein erected a structure
which shall ever reflect the purest, the
highest, the noblest typo of individ-
ualism And tho current of progress
grows wider and deeper with oach
sucoeding year.
The history of tho world ia a por-
trayal of man — the Individual.
Through tho centuries, through the
blocd drenched battle field, through
ihe glimmering of light to the fettered
English people, through the French
revolution with its eager and hungry «
throng, through tho dawning of lib-
erty to American men, through trou-
ble and despair, through achievement
and victory, this mighty force has led
humanity onward toward the goal of
universal brotherhood. This then is
tho goal toward which progresa for-
ever strides. I niversality, dominated
by the laws of peace and liberty and
wrought by that all-powerful force-
Individualism:
After two serio-comic soles by th >
Norman Glee club, directeii by Miss
King, Jesse Ilelllv. of the University,
spoke on the subject, 'The Icono-
elast " He displayed considerable or-
atorical talent and won the lirst prize
of 830 'J he winning oration is as
follows:
•• leonoelant."
From the first, two forces have been
at work in the world; one creative, tho
other destructive. One seeks to build
up. tho other to tear down. Gne
brings together, the other scatters
abroad. These forces are directly an-
tagonistic, each endeavors to thwart
the undertaking c f tho other; vet nei-
ther succeed, and the work of both
goes on. At every stop the world in
its progress has felt the influence c f
both theso forces.
It should be so. It was wisdom in
( rovidenco that mado this provision.
Creative energy working alone would
long since have exhausted its field of
labor; while destructive agencies with-
out a counter force would long ago
have reduced the univerae to its primi-
tive state, without fjrin and void.
Hut work ng together, these forces
have worked unceasingly, and still
work unceasingly, and still work.
The decaying past is the fertile soil in
which the better future takes ita root.
Tho older images crumbling away bo-
ncath time's wasting caresses become
the building stones in the rising tem-
ples.
The iconoclast stands for the destruc-
tive forco that makes development,
progress, and reform possible. In tbe
narrow sense, he was the man, who in
the earlier centuries, entered the
churches, tore down the beautiful
pictures, aud trampled them in the
dust, and with ruthless battle ax smote
the uiarblo figures into shapeless frag-
ments. Ho 1 ioked with no toleration
upon any in age thbt might turn the
weak lntelli eta of men from the true
purpo-o of worship Ho disregarded
all custom; he refused to obey law; he
did not reverence even the sublimity
of art in his fanatical ambition to in-
augurate reform Hut was this des-
truction wanton? Let results speak.
Above tho broken images and torn pic-
tures there arose in the church the
truer altar of the great unseen. Tho
minister of God became more truly the
preacher of righteousness. Spirit took
the place of form in religious services
and the church moved forward to her
conquest tf the world.
Hut iconoclasm has touched vastly
more than the leligious Bide of history.
Political society has, in the past, cre-
ated many idols at whose shrines
Liberty has beei. sacrificed, Justice
slaughtered and Humanity destroyed,
the divine right of kings was a gigan-
tic Moloch that for centuries received
ind consumed in his stifling etnbraoe
very tender offspring of democratic
thought; but at last there came an
conoclast who with the puritan's
prayers and the sword of ihe new
model threw down the image of this
monster, ground it to powder and
washed away the polutlon with blood.
They were iconoclasts, who in 187tt, in
the very faco of threatened destruc-
tion, dared to proclaim to the world
ihat "all men were created equal;" for
by that proclamation they struck down
he idols of cast to which men had
bowed for countless ages. He was an
iconoclast who in 1803, in the capital
of our nation, with a heart aflame
with love for humanity and a pen wet
with the ink of righteousness wrote
tho deathless words ihat struck the
fetters from the wriBts of 4,000,001
bondsmen; f?r by that act he over-
turned tho devouring, destroying, de-
moralizing idol of slavery worshipped
for centuries by deluded mortals.
Thus has the iconoclast been ever
aud anou passing over tbo stage of the
world's activity. Destroyer though he
is, ho stiil has been the forerunner of
every advance in civilisation. The
golden wand of progress has been
.vaved only above the heaps of ruins
he has mado. Tho fuller glow of
social, political aud religious light in
which the world today rejoices shines
in becauso tho dark images set up by
superstition in tho past have been
thrown down Were It not for tbia
work of destruction wo today would
be groveling iu the intellectual dark-
ness of the MiNjle Ages. Wo today
would be plundered and devoured by
the ffreed of kings. We today would
be burniug heretics, banging witches
and guillotining free thought.
Hut with all our deliverance from
such things are yet idolatora.
Every age seta up its images and we
have set up ours Even in the halls of
mirth and j illlty we pass them and
uncover our heads; in the political
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Niblack, Leslie G. The Oklahoma Leader. (Guthrie, Okla.), Vol. 5, No. 46, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1898, newspaper, January 6, 1898; Guthrie, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc121356/m1/3/: accessed April 18, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.