madman's cell. He
could not stand the test.

Lord Byron was Britain's brilliant bard. He could have lived in
England's glory and then slept with England's buried greatness in
Westminster Abbey, if he had stood the test; but at the age of
thirty-seven, when he should have been on an upward flight to greater
fame, he drew the "strings of his discordant harp" about him and over
them sent the bitter wail:

"My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone!"

Younder in a cabin a babe was born. When eleven years of age he helped
his mother clear out a patch and raise a garden. Later on he lay in
front of a wood fire, studying lessons for the morrow. Later in life
he went to college, with only a few cents in his pocket. He went to
church and there gave part of his little all in a collection for
missionary work. The next Saturday he earned a dollar with a
jack-plane; at the end of his college term he had paid his way and had
seven dollars left. At twenty-eight this young man was in the senate
of his state, at thirty-six he was in Congress, and twenty-seven years
from the time James A. Garfield rang the bell of Hiram College for his
board he went into the White House as President of the United States.
He could stand the test. Boys, can you stand the test?

During the Spanish American war there was a regiment called the "Rough
Riders." It was made up of picked young men from different states of
the Union. It was this regiment that made the famous charge up San
Juan Hill. At the close of the war, the regiment was mustered out of
service. The Colonel, giving his farewell address, said: "You have
made an honorable record in war, now go back to your homes and make
honorable record in peace."

Sixteen years of that record is made. The Colonel has been President
of the United States for seven years of that time. General Leonard
Wood has gone to the front of the army, and others of the regiment
have become successful professional and business men; but some have
gone to jails and penitentiaries, one died not long since in the
streets of New York City and was buried in a pauper's grave; some are
fugitives from justice.

What is true of that regiment, is in some measure true of every body
of young men and boys I meet. In my presence are boys who will be
leaders of thought and action twenty years from now in whatever
community they dwell. There