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Speech on Duty

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Title	Speech on Duty
Description	Essay/speech on duty, written by Hattie Carmichael Williams for honors work at Whitworth Female College in Brookhaven, Mississippi.
Digital ID#	20-241
Physical ID	20-241
Object Type	Document
Creator	Williams, Hattie Carmichael.
Subject	Speeches, addresses, etc., American--Women Authors. Milton, John, 1608-1674.
Geographic location	Brookhaven (Miss.)
Date	1897
Time period	1890-1899
Original Collection	Williams (Daniel) Papers
Publisher	Mississippi State University Libraries (electronic version).
Rights	Copyright protected by Mississippi State University Libraries. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required.
Format (original)	5-page document 31.7 x 19.7 cm.
Format (digital)	200 dpi JPEG image
Repository	Manuscripts Division, Special Collections Department, Mississippi State University Libraries.
Location of Original	Williams (Daniel) Papers/Box 1/Honor speeches of Hattie Carmichael Williams
Related materials	A digitization project sponsored by the Consortium for the History of Agricultural and Rural Mississippi (CHARM).
Language	en
Contact information	For more information send email to sp_coll@library.msstate.edu or call 662-325-7679.
facet format	document
Transcript	"I slept and dreamed that life was beauty, I woke and found that life was duty." Few writers possess the gift of gathering into a full nosegay the flowers of thought that other men of letters have scattered through their works. Milton possessed this power in a preeminent degree. It is related of him that while a school boy, a prize was offered to the pupil who would write the best composition on our Lord's first miracle, the turning the water into wine. The day of collection came, the school master called for the productions; every boy's was ready except John Milton's, he had not attempted to write; the school teacher then used his reserved force -- compulsion. When this power was brought to bear on our Epic poet, he scribbled on a slip of paper this sentence: "The conscious water saw its God and blushed"; it is needless to add who received the premium. So it seems to me that the poet culled the sweetest posies when [page 2] he wrote: "I slept and dreamed that life was beauty, I woke and found that life was duty." No fitter theme could be found in the whole universe, than the subject life, especially when it deals with existence not in the abstract, but being pinned down to concrete matter, and this concentrated mass assumes vaster importance if it is endowed with the personal "Ego." Now if it is I who live, who have life, who am a responsible moral agent, it behooves me to ascertain in what states I may retain this living force, how best develop the powers given and under what conditions I can best enjoy myself. Should I take the lowest phase of the subject I discover that existence is possible only under two states; that of wakefulness when both the voluntary and involuntary organs are acting; and that of sleep when only the [page 3] involuntary organs are in motion. Hush! "The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of night. And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away." Balmy sleep descends and enfolds me in her loving embrace, I yield myself to her, I lose consciousness, I sleep, aye, I dream! Is it like unto the vision of Pharaoh, is my soul burdened and weighed down with anxiety? do I inquire for some one to interpret it for me? Or is it like the dream of Jacob, angels descending and ascending the ladder fixed between heaven and earth? Perhaps my dream assumes the proportions of physical suffering, or maybe my heart is filled with ecstasy over the joyfulness and beauty of human life. Let me reveal to you a few of the scenes of my life that I acted while in dreamland. 'Tis 7 o'clock P.M. I am entering my own apartments in the elegantly furnished home of my parents; I tread on the [page 4] Softest and most elegant carpets; I behold pictures by the grand old masters; I see in my book-case the latest novels; I open my armoir and select one of Worth's party dresses; I draw near to my dressing case, open my jewel casket, select the desired jewels, and lastly apply the really essential elements to a lady's toilet, rouge and powder. I descend to the parlor, meet my escort, the one all the girls are so jealous about, and am hurried away [to] the ball; when there, I dance, eat ice, tête-à-tête in the conservatory and talk airy nothings. Scene II. My bank account is unlimited. Scene III. The best theater will play tonight, I go and hear the latest sensational play. Act, II. My ideal has proposed, my parents have consented, I leave the paternal mansion to be the light of another home. Surely this merely animal gratification is not what the poet meant. No, he must have had in mind, day reveries, any way the sun is high in the heavens and I am in the land of [page 5] phantasy [sic]. This dream of beauty has not for its ?, self and self-gratification. I hear the cry of the distressed and suffering, I have at my command the means wherewithal to relieve their needs and with a liberal hand I succor them, or I picture myself the successful author of some popular work, enlightening and ennobling humanity; again, I am planning how by and by I shall act and work to make the home folks love and depend upon me, and so picture after picture my imagination colors. Truly if the poet had only written, "I slept and dreamed that life was beauty" he would not have revealed half of life's phases, only the negative side of man's nature would have been disclosed and only the latent faculties would have been brought into play. But adding, "I woke and found that life was duty", makes it complete, or as another has expressed it, "Dream, but Do." Oh! what delight it affords one to realize that he [page 6] is in possession of all his faculties, he is master of his own being. Rejoice thou who hast broken the shackles both of physical and mental lethargy. In duty then be bound, as by the chains of compulsion, for instance, "I must do this thing because people expect it of me, or I am under obligation to give this to my neighbor, for the favor he did me;" this is not duty but only common justice. What then is duty? Ethically, it is the moral obligation man is under to God, if the Lord is the motor force of all actions, who doubts that life will not assume the vain low tints? Or duty in civil life may be summed up in this word, "doing." Longfellow realized this fact when he wrote "Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; [page 7] Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoke of the soul. Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing Learn to labor and to wait." Yea, it is doing to the extremest point, and yielding only to death, on the mountain's summit is the Excelsior banner floating. Is the life that has "onward" as its motto void of happiness or security? Who will be the one to cast the first stone and says aye! Is not work the effector of beauty, could there be any loveliness without this ceaseless power duty? I rejoiced that I awoke and found life duty. Not only do I find that the grandest exponents of literary genius have accepted this truth as their guide, but that the highest types of humanity have it as their watchword. The grandest man of present England has duty as his buckler, and his very countenance reveals moral [page 8] beauty and his every action betokens manly grace and fixed determination; George Washington, our national hero, had it as his safe-guard; St. Paul was a strict adherent to this principle, and the typical example is the lowly Lord and Savior. Though he had no physical beauty and comeliness that men might desire him, yet He carried out so beautifully in his daily life "to do the will of my Father" that He has become the central figure of all history and the most perfect pattern of true manhood in the whole earth. So, if beauty is armed with virtue, it bows the soul, with a commianding [sic] but a sweet control. In exaltation, I exclaim to duty: "Stern Daughter of the voice of God! O duty! if that name thou love Who art a Light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Tho who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dos't set free, And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity. [page 9] Stern Lawgiver! Yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace, Nor know we any thing so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds; And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the Slats from wrong; And the most ancient heavens through thee are fresh and strong."
Collection Title	Daniel Williams family papers

Digital ID#	20-241-p01.jpg
Physical ID	20-
Original Collection	Williams (Daniel) Papers
Publisher	Mississippi State University Libraries (electronic version).
Rights	Copyright protected by Mississippi State University Libraries. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required.
Format (digital)	200 dpi jpeg image
Repository	Manuscripts Division, Special Collections Department, Mississippi State University Libraries.
Location of Original	Daniel Williams Papers/Folder 20
Related materials	A digitization project sponsored by the Consortium for the History of Agricultural and Rural Mississippi (CHARM).
Language	en
Contact information	For more information send email to sp_coll@library.msstate.edu or call 662-325-7679.
Transcript	"I slept and dreamed that life was beauty, I woke and found that life was duty." Few writers possess the gift of gathering into a full nosegay the flowers of thought that other men of letters have scattered through their works. Milton possessed this power in a preeminent degree. It is related of him that while a school boy, a prize was offered to the pupil who would write the best composition on our Lord's first miracle, the turning the water into wine. The day of collection came, the school master called for the productions; every boy's was ready except John Milton's, he had not attempted to write; the school teacher then used his reserved force -- compulsion. When this power was brought to bear on our Epic poet, he scribbled on a slip of paper this sentence: "The conscious water saw its God and blushed"; it is needless to add who received the premium. So it seems to me that the poet culled the sweetest posies when

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