GROSSCUF'S FINE CONFECTIONARY.
ELDRIDGE HOUSE BLOCK
Social Department.
All communications for this Department should be sent to Misses Clara Greenamery, Maud Mansfield or J. Sullivan.
Mrs. Hutchinson TEA PARTY — Mrs.
Hutchins gave a delightful tea to
Hutchings gave a delight some of her friends on The afternoon was spent anly, in social conversat pressed themselves as delightfully entertained Hutchings is ever a trull hostess. Among those Meadames Cook, Lippin Hill, S. T. Field, Bower non, Fluke, Eldridge, Pendleton, Tremper.
BOWERSOCK:-The L dancing club had a v meeting Saturday night dence of J. D Bowersock see street. These pleas are no more enjoyed b ones, than by the older are fortunate enough to Among those present tl were noticed; Misses Howland, Bella Sincl Hynes, Rilla and Lucy ' Madge Schaum, Carb丹, Burie, Genie Messrs. Albert Flintom George and Philip C Oscar and Paul Learnar Jus. Bowersocks Mss Hoesen, Sinclair, Schau Misses Marcelle Hook Cook, Lyle Hynes, Dais
TURNER:—A taffy I given by Miss Lily I Home on Kentucky street day evening. Quite a he present and spent lightful evening. Mis charming hostess and company hope this will last of her delightful par those present were th' Misses Cora Henshaw, shaw, Lily Freeman, Emma Blackington. I Schall, A. L. Burney, A. Jackson, G. Lewis, I J. Griffith.
CONTEST:——The first year between the Orephilan phillies society was versity hall last Friday spite of the inclementy many city people as students of the Universitysembled. The Phil I opened the entertainment of their most excellent oration "Our N guard" by C.L.Smith, society was well rendicative of much the Question of Nations, Marshall was a moster and did credit to the society of which Mr. member, J.W.Jen thoroughly enjoyed by Mr.Jenks singing his highly appreciated. Tition by R.S.Horton Jackson,"showed that was familiar with the many of his countrymay deservedly claim iMember, "The Home zens," by T.F.Doran philian was excellent syari applied. The O represented by Cyroration "A Problem."what true greatness was sidered by those of confinement. Mr.Crane acknowledged one of promising members. The Orophilian was the ant. Mr.Reed's ora Mission of Morality"to with breathless written in his usual That Mr.Reed was a subject was clearly a member of the Orc Reed has no superior. Phil Pel orchestra the perssed well pleased, for paid for climbing More
Thesenior class of th to-night. Everybody
The Art League meeting at Miss Simpson's withstanding the unpopular quite a large compa The leading feature of a was a reading from Ri Marvin.
Mr. Thos. Wharton, of the railway mail service, was married recently in Pueblo to Lettie Riply Lathrop, of Lansing, Mich. They will be "at home" at 1124 Rhode Island street after December 20th.
Rev. Geo. A. Bowers, pastor of the Congregational church at Abilene, delivered a lecture on "The Conditions of Intellectual Development and success, in chapel Wednesday morning to an audience comprised of a large body of the students. The lecture was very interesting as well as instructive and clearly set forth
The charter of the Bayless Mercantile Co., of Lawrence, was filled yesterday. The directors are J.F.
A KNIFE PASSED THROUGH THE EYE
BALL WITHOUT PAIN.
TRUTH OR FICTION
Last Tuesday Mr. Mike Anthony,
of 517 Dacota street, Leavenworth,
Kansas, came to the Eye and Ear
Infirmary, corner Grand and Eighth
streets, Kansas City, Mo. The new
and wonderful herb discovered in
nearly all others in this matter of athletics, and it is a noticeable facts that our students, as contrasted with those of other colleges, are far behind them in physical development. A large proportion of our students are pale and sickly, with round shoulders and hollow chests, caused, not by excessive study, but by lack of exercise. In many
There are many ways of doing it. Play baseball, foot-ball, hare and hounds; walk if you have no money, rike if you have more than you know how to use. A small amount of money would suffice to start a boat-club. Go boating, hunting fishing; they will all do you good and farnish more enjoyment than most of the amusements indulged
Toothaker's Stable is the favorite Livery with the students. Hacks always in waiting
THE WEEKLY
University Courier.
The largest College Journal circulation in the United States.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING
BY THE
COURIER COMPANY,
For Kansas University Students.
W. L. KERR,
President.
F. T OAKLEY,
Sec'y.
EDITORIAL STAFF.
L. M. McKINNEY, 87
W. R. CONE, 88
H. L. CONE, 88
L. STEPHENSON, 89
C. H. NOWEK, 88
JELIA HOBOOK, 88
JELIA HOBOOK, 88
JELIA POWELL, 80
LAUCIA LAUNS, 89
BUSINESS MANAGED
E. A. WHEELER. | J. D. McLABEN.
Lock Box 411
Entered at the Post Office at Lawrence, Kansas, on Monday, June 20, 2015. Outside a Telestar笑脸 Print.
Christmas gifts? Yes. The business managers wish that every delinquent subscriber would make a Christmas gift of fifty cents to the great religious weekly. As you are going home, the business managers will receive the contributions this week. All subscribers receiving this notice marked will please remit fifty cents as their subscription for 1885-86. Otherwise the paper will not be sent to you. Be sure to address COURIER, Box 434. Pay up, gentlemen, and you will have a merry Christmas.
To-day we are homeward bound.
Everybody is in a hurry to get off
Let each one come back in favor of a University ball.
The literary societies should have night sessions next term. More would attend and better programs would be rendered.
Quite a number of students have been hunting lately. This is undoubtedly good exercise. It is certainly a better way to spend Saturday than in the billiard halls, as others do.
It is the duty of every citizen, after a snow storm, to clean off the sidewalk in front of his house. Since the recent fall a very large number of walks have been sadly neglected. This does not speak well for the inhabitants of the city which claims to be the "Athens of Kansas."
Through the industry and perseverance of Prof. Sterling, the Greek department has at last obtained a number of Johnston's revised maps, which will be of great service to his department, and especially the Freshman class, which has commenced Heroditus.
--send its brightness to his bloody crown.
The library is a part of the University to which students should turn their minds as much as anything. When they get out in active life they will much regret it if they do not seize the opportunity of reading such valuable books as are to be found there, when they now have the chance. We have observed that quite a number frequent the library, but only for the purpose of reviewing their lessons or hastily glancing over their county paper. If one has time to go in there at all, he certainly has time to read. Some have given the excuse that they have not time, but they only say this because they have nothing better and are those who are generally found in the corridors during hours of recitation. Let each one make the resolve that when he gets back after the holidays he will endeavor to use the library to the best advantage.
The Coming Man.
Context Oration by Frank A. Marshall
Little more than a hundred years ago our brawny young Republic, wafted by a thousand prayers and freedged with a thousand hopes, was launched upon the great ocean of human affairs. Eleven decades have passed away. Let us call a halt and find out where we are. O, pilot! what of the ship? Is the harbor in sight, and do no angry breakers lift their hungry beds above the wave to wreck our fairest hope? The answer lies on every hand.
The mind that thinks dare not look upon the condition of America today, and not feel that times "are ripe, aye, rotten ripe for change." It is vain to hug the fond delusion that all is well. Aye, the sun shines brightly upon us, but it is the fevered brightness of splendid ruin. There is a lurking thunderbolt in every beam. Inexorable fact challenges denial. We dare not gladiate with eternal truth. Look at the state of American politics to-day. The giant minds of the grand old triumvirate are gone forever. Statesmanship struggles in the depths of demagogy and open bribery goes hand in hand with secret fraud. Our statesmen are politicians. Elected by machinery, they go to our halls of congress, and there, beneath the very eyes of departed patriots and statesmen, they enact such scenes of shameless fraud that it seems as if the pictured lips above them must break their silent bonds and cry out against the profaners of the dead.
Look to the east, and every wind that blows bears upon its burdened wing the sounds of intermittent rebellion. A ridiculous travesty upon every principle of political economy violates every condition of national advancement, and changes the busy hum of contented labor to the hungry cry of destitution.
Added to this, every ship that crosses the Atlantic swells the flood of indiscriminate immigration. Hand in hand the titled snob and ruffian communist, the Irish dymmeter and German socialist, come like darkness-loving vampires to sow the seed of discontent and revolution.
Weighted with this foreign incubus, we are threatened at home. While our happy firesides smile their welcome, the nest of darkness hatches out the germs of ruin; and while we walk our busy streets by day, the sun of moon warms them into life. When we look to our public men, the hope of the nation, and see that the greed for office has detriment every kingly virtue of a statesman's nature; with religion a diluted hypocrisy and politics a profession; with four newspapers scattering broadcast the seeds of sedition and socialism; with the daily press one reckening catalogue of crime; with all this staring us face to face, dare we hug the gilded mockery of security to our fated bosoms and think to dismiss with a wave of the hand the inexorable spectre of "in and revolution?
As some tall ship tosses on a trouble drifting madly and rudderless led sea, so to-day our ship of state through a sea of dangers. But born of dire need, the God of nations shall raise up for us a pilot who shall grasp the helm of state and guide us safely through the hell of perils. And he shall be the statesman of the future—the coming man. He will be the material embodiment of all that is high and holy and true in the republic. He will be a soldier statesman—the patriot warrior whose sword leaps forth at the call of native land; no Napoleon to blind the laurels to his brow with heartstrings; no Alexander to sit enthroned on broken hearts and widow's tears; no Caesar to pluck the peckel gem of liberty from his country's brow to
He will be a Christian statesman, whose heart is nerved by the tireless inspiration of a firm, unfaltering faith, against whose pure integrity foul detraction dare not breathe a word; whose honest heart is one pure fount of noble thought; before whose unselfish love of country hungry demagogues shall blush with shame; who shall call a halt on every form of corruption and say to office-seeking demagogy, "Thus far and no farther!" who shall bar up the flood gates of headlong immigration and send back to their native lairs the wolfish horizons of dynamite and Nihilism; the man whose brain is the brain of a Webster; whose great, warm heart is true as steel; in fine, one "on whom every god shall seem to set his seal, to give the world assurance of a man."
He will not burst upon the world like a meteor that flashes across the midnight sky for one bright hour of splendor; but rather, the answer to a prayer of faith, he will rise above the horizon of human affairs, like a mild, beneficent star that guides men on to higher things, and shines before them a beacon of hope.
Conquest of Self.
I would call him Washington, but the father of his country was haughty and austere. I would call him Webster, but Webster was more of a states man than he was a man. I would call him Lincoln, but Lincoln had more of heart than heart. Like none of these alone, he will combine the best in all.
From the gardens of wisdom I would cull the brightest flowers to crown his brow. I would place the scepter of honest statesmanship in his hand, and enthrone him upon an uncorrupted ballot, the guardian of our dearest right. Then, dipping my pen in faded light, I would write above him in deathless fame, "The statesman of the future; the coming man;" the man whose grand nobility shall win back for us our birthright sinned away; who shall restore to us the priceless heritage of liberty; the immemorial patrimony of a great people.
Contest Essay by L. A. Stebbins
Whether it was a wild freak of imagination or a dream, I know not, but the other evening as I sat gazing into the fire, my thoughts wandering off through the labyrinth of possibilities, a vision arose before me. At first its appearance was indistinct and chaotic; but gradually it grew clearer, closed about me, widened, broadened and finally took definite form and shape. I became a part of it, and then I saw it was in our own beloved America; but the people had undergone a change. From them had been torn their gaudy masks, and each man stood revealed to the world in his real light. Upon every man's forehead was stamped his true worth as a man, and every one was taking rank in the opinion of his fellowmen in accord with that stamp. But as I gazed at our land made radiant in this new light of absolute justice between man and man, a strange thing happened. I saw one man's name upon the lips of every man, woman and child throughout the broad expanse of this might nation. I saw poudreous volumes being written of him to tell generations of men yet unborn of his greatness. From the north, from the south, the east and the west, the people were flocking to do him houpage, and they were calling him the greatest conqueror the world had ever known. This I could not understand. This man surely could be a greater conqueror than Alexander was, for he in twelve short years conquered the whole world; and who could do more? Even though he were a sec-
and Julius Caesar, he could not have been a greater conqueror than Caesar. By this time I think there must be some mistake; my ears must deceive me; the people of this land of absolute justice must be saying as great and not the greatest the world has ever known, for even though he has conquered the whole world he has done no more than has been accomplished by other men. And if he be a second Caesar, what Rubicond did he cross, and what Pompey to conquer? But as these thoughts ran wild through my brain, a shout and deafening, as if 'twould read in twnain the canopy of heaven, rose from the assembled millions; they had caught sight of their hero, and were wild, mad with enthusiasm. They were serrambling one over endeavor to be the first to do him honor. And they were calling him again; yes, there was no mistake this time, they were calling him the greatest conqueror the world had ever known. I, too, was wild now. Who is this man and what could he have done that he should have a higher rank than two who have conquered the whole world? I will stop this man who is rushing wildly past me, and ask him: "Sir, who is this man, and wherefore do you place him as a conqueror above Alexander, Cesar and Napoleon?" He turned, and with an angry flash in his eyes, reukeded me for daring but for a moment to compare this new hero with such men. "Sir," said he, "Alexander, Cesar and Napoleon were only famous for having conquered other men; this man has conquered himself."
To obtain complete mastery over one's self is the most difficult of all human requirements.
Every year we celebrate what we call an Independence Day. Upon that occasion we throw aside all business, rush to the cities and towns and cry ourselves hoarse with loud huzzas for liberty, and we fondly believe we are as free as the breezes that take up and renew our shouts. But we are not, we are slaves. The bondage of which I speak is not of that character from which our Revolutionary fore-fathers freed us; neither is it of that sort which Lincoln abolished, but of a type infinitely harder to eradicate—a kind of thrdloom which has silently wound its invisible threads with greater or less tightness about every member of the human family since the beginning. Its ever presence with man, and its invisible and silent nature has so accustomed him to its presence that he hardly realizes its existence; never thinks of it as servitude. Yet I repeat we are in slavery. We are slaves to ourselves; we are slaves to our appetites; slaves to our habits; slaves to our passions. Some of us are more our own masters than others, but none are free.
Look at yonder besetted wretch who has little by little sucumbed to his appetite for drink until his one aim now is to satisfy the demands of that fendish master—rum. And tell me he is not a slave? Or let us pass behind the scenes and see what is the propelling force which shapes this millionair's actions. Is it his judgement or some passion which has taken its place? Alas! it it is too often the latter; too often the case that he is striving to get more money simply to gratify his desire to be richer. Every thousand he gets is only fuel to feed the flame of his insatiable longing for more. We rarely find a man seeking to acquire great wealth that he may thereby benefit humanity, nor do he see him sitting himself down after he has a competency and coolly and deliberately asking himself this question.
"Which will bring me the most pleasure, to go on devoting my whole time and attention to money-making now
that I have a sufficiency, or to speed a part of it in other fields of labor that will give me broader and better ideas? No, behas given up his individuality, and does that which his similes longing for money dictates, and asks no questions. Within the man his judgment is no longer in the ascendency; it has become the slave, and his greed for the gold the master.
The gambler, the thief, the slug-
gard, the Sybarite and the man with
an uncontrolled temper, have all lost their individuality and become simply machines to grind out what ever fate their passions presume. What are the millions of tobacco and opium smokers but slaves to their habits?
Within every man there is a ceaseless warfare between his judgment and his passions. In one the former predominate, and he is comparatively free to do and act as it dictates; in another the latter is stronger and the man is slowly dragged down, down into menial servitude to them, until he is as much a slave as was ever a southern negro crouching at the feet of some heartless master.
In this endless conflict one's passions are ever upon the attack, while upon the judgment devotes the task of defense. In all warfare where one side is always upon the offensive and the other on the defensive, the defending party is ever working at a disadvantage, for their enemy can dictate times and places for conflict, can pounce upon them unwaives and before an organized defense can be made, the fort is their. So it is in this conflict between man's passions and his judgment. One must be ever upon the alert, for it is impossible to tell at what moment a turn in the wheel of human events may throw some powerful temptation in our pathway, that if we would gather lasting happiness to ourselves, must be resisted, but which will require all the energy of a strong will and sound judgment to repel.
Our forefathers made a goodly stride toward freedom in the common acceptance of that term when they threw off the British yoke and declared "that all men are born free and equal." But the shackles they broke were only the more tangible, noisy ones, which are forced upon some men by others. Lincoln's emancipation proclamation was pre-eminently the most masterly stroke for freedom recorded in history. But this, too, was only freedom from that slavery which comes from without. And there yet remains a work for emancipators to do—a work that will take countless millions of Lincolnns and ages of time to accomplish, if it be ever completed at all—liberation from and conquest of man's own passions. This is a work that every man must do for himself. To approach this, the goal of true freedom, man must work with ceaseless energy by day and by night, whether he be at the work-bench, in the pulpit, at the bar, in the senate or by his own fireside. In time to come, as man approaches this goal, will fair Utopia's shores draw near, and if he be reach it, then will his bark, so long tossed upon tempestuous seas, cast anchors in her fair harbor.
I have noticed for some time that the proper respect is not paid to the Seniors. I do not wish to claim anything which is not due us, but we certainly are deserving of more attention than we receive. Why, even the Freshmen address me as "Riggs," and the Preps salute me with: "Say, Old Footsteps!" In many colleges such things would not be tolerated and they should not be here. Seniors, wake up!
H. E. RIGGS,
M11
The military treating befitting more worry maps were in a drill J. The soldier with a holder, completely a few wives a few that was treated as a military.
The com-mmerce, and be made the few wives a count of some asahu ventilators or bags. Or if you are the Lifeblood handler You are the maid and blocker the softly fresh press