advancement and prosperity; to raise the social body to a higher level of civilization and efficiency, by educating the ignorant and encouraging the feeble in their efforts; to invite into your midst by a hearty welcome all who may be willing to contribute their energies to your common fortunes, and thus to make these States again a tower of strength and an ornament to the American Republic, which, in spite of all its enemies, is destined to be the great republic of the future? Can there be a nobler mission than this? How is it possible, then, that to the hearts and minds of the young generation there should be any charm in the idea to sit there in sour idleness, moping and grumbling and growling with childish obstinacy at everything that is, because an enterprise that could not succeed has failed, or to squander their years of usefulness in a hopeless chase after the shadows of the past, which can never regain their substance?
There are two pictures of the future of the South which should be always before your eyes, for either of them you may make a reality. Here is one: Sullen dissatisfaction with the new order of things, kept alive by the false hope of a reaction; the energies of the people wasted by vain efforts to accomplish the impossible, and lurking distrust as to what may come to-morrow, keeping the immigrant away from your field, and foreign capital from your industries; the development of your prosperity impeded, and the social organism disturbed by the changing contests of restless factions—uncertainty, discomfort, decay, everywhere, and perhaps self-government failing to accomplish its great ends, the heavy hand of the military power thrust into your local concerns to maintain peace and order. Does not your imagination recoil? And here is the other: The South, relieved of the incubus of slavery and everything akin to it, lifted out of her distress and confusion by the enlightened public spirit of her own citizens, working
