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JULY lf9V 1912
The Commoner.
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A Young Lad's Tribute
Paul Northrup, a: young Lincoln lad , gradu
ated recently at the Nebraska Military Academy,
a Bplendid school for boys, under the manage
ment of Colonel William J. Hayward, famous
throughout the west as an educator and a boy
trainer. Young Northup delivered the vale
dictory oration. Choosing Mr. Bryan as his sub
ject he selected "An Inspired Fanaticv as his
text. Because this tribute came from 'the open
heart of a frank boy, Commoner1 readers will
bo interested in it and at tho request of-a num
ber of Mr. Bryan's Lincoln friends; It is printed
in full. Hero it Is?'
Education is a' necessity. The broadest cul
ture, is demanded of the twentieth 'century
American citizen.' If one were merely 'to read
some fiction-coated travelogues, or td glance
Idly through a Baedeker, one would be readily
of the opinion that travel is the height of hnp
piness to those who are possessed of the means
wherewith to enjoy it.,
Yet every true American citizen returns from
touring across the sea with the feeling breathed
forth in that magnificent song by Van Dyke:
"O Europe is a fine place, yet something seems
to lack;
The past is too much with her, and her people
looking back.
For life is in the present, and the future must
be free.
We love our land for what she is, and what she
' is to be.
- .
So its home again, and home again, America
..... for me!
My. heart is. turning home again to God's coun
try, To the blessed land of room enough beyond the
ocean bars,
Where the air is full of sunshine, and the flag
, is full of stars. :
O London is a man's town with power in the
'.air,, , . .;. .
And Paris is a woman's town with, flowers in
her hair, ( ..
O Jts swee,t to loaf. in .Venice, Hand it's great to
... st;udy .Rome; ....
But when it comes to living, there's no place
like home.
So it's home again, and home again, America
for me!
My heart is turning home again to God's coun
try, To the blessed land of room enough beyond the
ocean bars,
Where the air is full of sunshine, and the. flag is
full of stars;"
i
So, my friends, we turn from the vast arena
of Europe, and its setting of worshipped heroes,
arfd come to some of those more kin to us, de
veloped beneath the flag of stars. I might take
you back to the gloomy days of seventy-six
when the father of our country struggled against
the greatest empire in all the world; I might
march you all day and half the night with bleed
ing feet,, chilled through and through and half
starved, across the state of New Jersey to the
battlefield of Trenton, in order to show you the
military genius and the greatness of Washing
ton; and then, my friends, when we carve in
perpetual memory the names of the greatest
among our heroes, we must never forget tho
magic name of Lincoln, the first American.
There is no more unique figure in all ages than
the rail splitter of the Sangamon bottoms, whose
immortal works will be the theme of song and
eulogy for years to come.
But my theme today is a simpler one. My
hero is no military genius, except perhaps as
he marshalls tho forces of righteousness against
the hosts of sin; my hero is a fanatic, whom the
country despised and distrusted. His boyhood
days were simple, his college life was normal,
crowned with little other perhaps, than his
natural ability for public speaking.
Drift back with me some twenty years, when
this character of ours began his political career.
It was in the Fifty-second congress that he
startled that body, and even the whole country,
by his original ideas upon the tariff. From this
time on his reputation grew, he fascinated the
people, and drew multitudes to him in a strango
and wonderful manner. His views upon tho
Issues of the day were extraordinary, he was
regarded as a fanatic- of the most extreme sort.
H demanded that United States senators should
bo elected by tho direct vote of the people.
"This is impossible," said the politicians. "This
could never be," thought tho majority of the
people. He was scoffed at and jeered at, and
hissed at, his bursts of oratory woro applauded,
while what ho said was torn apart, and de
clared the greatest fako of all tho ages. Then
ho advocated tho publication of campaign ex
penses before election, instead of afterward, as
was then done. This in turn was declared as
only another of his absurd and ridiculous
dreams that could never be.
The press of the country donounced him; no
paper supported him with whole hearttidness,
and the mass of tho people protested against
his sincerity. One editorial especially shows tho
opposition of the press, and its bitterness against
him. It occurred in tho Now York Tribune just
after his defeat for tho presidency in 189G, in a
paper onco edited by the great Horace Greeley,
and now owned by a man who came very near
becoming vice president of the United States.
Tho editorial said, in part: "Its nominal head,"
meaning Mr. Bryan, "was worthy of the cause
nominal because the wrotched rattle-pated
boy posing in vapid vanity, and mouthing re
sounding rottenness, was not tho real - leader
of this loague of hell. Not ono of his masters
was more apt than he at lies, forgeries and blas
phemies, and all tho nameless iniquities of that
campaign against tho ten commandments. Ho
goes down with tho cause, and must abide with
It in the history of infamy. Let him go with
the hissing of a peoples' scorn!" This, my
friends, was the attitudo of the country against
Mr. Bryan In the early nineties. Every move
ment which was advocated by him was scorned
and ridiculed as only another stopping stone
upon which he might ascend to the presidency.
The greatest event in his career came at the
first convention from, which he received the
democratic nomination for the presidency. This
event was the famous "Cross of Gold" speech;
the greatest piece of oratory in fifty years. Not
since the days of Calhoun and Webster have
such words moved tho minds and the hearts of
their hearers. How magic were his words as
they moved that vast assemblage. "You come
here, and tell us that the groat cities are In
favor of the gold standard; wo reply that our
great cities rest upon our broad and fertile
prairies. Burn down .your cities, and leave our
farms, and youir cities will spring up again as if
by magic; but destroy our farms, and the grass
will grow in the streets of every city in tho
'country." And then again in that immortal
peroration, given as it only can be given by tho
"Boy Orator of tho Platte," "If they dare to
come out in the open, and defend the gold stand
ard as a good thing, we will fight them to tho
uttermost. Having behind us the producing
masses of this nation and of tho world, sup
ported by the commercial interests, tho labor
ing interests and tho toilers everywhere, we
will answer their demand for a gold standard
by. saying to them, 'You shall not press down
upon the brow of labor this crown of thorns,
you shall not crucify mankind upon a cross of
gold.' " This was the speech that won for Mr.
Bryan tho nomination. Tho democratic party
forsook their natural leader, at that time tho
President of the United States, and noniinated
a leader on tho most conflicting platform that
ever supported a presidential candidate.
It may bo asked, "What has been tho pro
gress of this pioneer since tho days of ninety
six?" My only reply need be to refer you to the
press of this country, which now records every
thing which Mr. Bryan says as important upon.,
the issue to which it refers. My friends wh.at
Mr. Bryan would have been executed for had
he lived in the days of John Brown of Ossawa
tomie; those things have long since passed tho
milestone of party creed and have leaped to tho
goal of national necessity. Hand in hand with
the march of events the reputation of Mr. Bryan
has threaded Its way through the death-holes of
politicians and has escaped the millstone of utter
oblivion. You of tho republican party through
the march of events in tho last threo decades,
show me ono who has equalled the statesman
ship of William Jennings Bryan; show mo ono
in either party who has equalled his gift of
speech, and show me ono in any nook or corner
f the civilized world who has so clearly for
seen the course of current events and then has
labored against the prejudice of millions in
order that the nation, in the end, might be
benefited.
My friends, we are living in an ago of ma-
terlal things where religion plays but a minor
part. Tho dictates of conscience are no longer
heard, long silent now is the voice of Savana
rola of old as he sways the multitudes with tho
strength of his convictions, "O, Florence, O,
Florence, repent, or your city shall be de
stroyed!" Tho passing of tlmo has obliterated
tho path of civic righteousness, and has pro
duced a torrlblo rolgn of mechanical govern
ment. Never elnco tho days when Washington
knelt In tho snows of Valley Forgo, and prayed
for tho succobb of llborty has any man of na
tional consoquenco and reputation so fully de
pended upon divine guidance
There has boon a divorce between church and
stato. Yot, hero stops a man who links religion
and polltlca togethor, and with confidonco in his
ability as God gives him tho power, marches
toward civic righteousness and purity of govern
ment. His belief in inspiration is woll shown
by his fondness for tho poem, "To a Water
fowl," by William Cullon Bryant:
"Ho who from zono to zone
Guides through tho boundless sky thy certain
flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
Will guide my steps aright." '
The battle of Watorloo was nearly over; tho
slowly netting sun beckoned night to closo tho
last sad battle of Napoloon. Tho career of tho
man of destiny was nearly done. The roar
guard had been attacked, and boforo a rally
could be made, tho front rank had boon swept
away. Brave comrades gently carried a young
lieutenant to the roar, and dropped his bleed
ing form on the rude hospital cot. It was then,
while tho surgoon probed his breast for tho
bullet, that tho lad In a half delirious burst of
strength turned partly over, and whispered to
the rough army surgeon in a tono of utmost con
fidonco, "Probe a little deeper, doctor, and you
will find Napoleon there." So, my friends, you
may plungo the common people in years of
bloodless political battle, you may deceive thoir
confidence by a grafter or a politician, you may
wreck their hopes by tho promise coated tongue
of a demagogue; you may pass before their eyes
thc panorama of departed heroes, or conjure
for them a truthful picture of those who now
march their standards in the thick of tho fight,
and In the end, my friends, In the end, you
may search this country high and low, and you'
will find emblazoned upon the heart of the com
mon people the name of him who gave his politi
cal life that civic righteousness and purity of
government might be further marched along
tho Utopian road toward the millenium that is
sure to come.
Tho magnificence of inarching armies and the
brilliant diplomacy of statesmon are not tho
things that dotorinine the deBtiny of nations.
An unending procession oC world's tragedies
has taught mankind that just as physical dissi
pation and corruption spell human death so
does civic unrighteousness and impurity of
citizenship pronounce the doom of nations and
empires. Thrice true is UiIb true of democratic
government wherein tho public will is tho source
-of power. In a nation of democracy public in
tegrity and stability aro not so much a question
of palace and senate and council chamber as
they aro a question of an undeflled and upright
common people. Viewing our nation through
the warping Ions of patriotic pride wo boast
that tho future holds no evil fortunes; we cry
that tho United States is the mightiest exponent
of democracy, and that its very name is synony
mous with human happiness and liberty. Mark
well then the man who preserves and cham
pions the cause of labor, who guards safely the
rights of tho common people!
The march of events is a curious thing, and
to him who can forseo, to him who can con
struct, and then carry out with a steadfast
ness of purpose, to him all honor should bo
given, and to him belongs tho thanks and the
blessings of posterity.
O, politicians, where are your heroes? Mark
Hanna, arise from your eternal slumber, and
conjure for us a picture of departed champions.
Lay at our feet the worthiest of your lot, and
we will answer for tho cause of clean and pure
politics, with tho fanatic of a decade ago. For
ho answered your finest creations with the im
mortal words: "You shall not press down upon
tho brow of labor this crown of thorns; you shall
not crucify mankind upon a cross of gold!"
O, champion of labor; O, defender of tho
common people; O, gifted orator and prince of
prophets, march onward tho cause of precious
liberty and demopracy! Hold high your lofty
ambition before tho straining eyes of countless
multitudes; arid when in after years, when you
yield the helm to another, may the remembrance
of an inspired touch send a thrill from bow to
storn, as the, ship of state glides swiftly and
proudly past the rocks of destruction through
tho straight and narrow channel of an eternal
democracy.
,Mjaui,g..,Jian 1 wyMiMM-i.
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