were ready to work and to suffer, and, if necessary, to die. Theirs was a devotion, too, wholly free from self-seeking ambition—a devotion which found all its aims and aspirations and rewards within itself.
Of that class of young men he was one, struggling with poverty and no end of other discouragements in his laborious effort to become a good physician. He knew well that political activity could not possibly help him in reaching that end, but might rather become a serious obstacle in his path. Neither had he any craving to see his name in the newspapers, or to strike an attitude before the public. But moved by a simple sense of duty to his fellow-men, he associated himself, and unostentatiously coöperated with others in advocating and propagating the principles which formed his political creed. His convictions might have been honestly modified or changed by super-study, or larger experience, but they would not yield an inch to the reductions of fortunes, or to the frowns or favors of power. And as nothing could prevail upon him to renounce or even equivocate about the faith he honestly held, he went to jail for it, suffering his martyrdom with that inflexible and, at the same time, modest fortitude which is the touchstone of true manhood. Thus to have served a term in prison was with him a mark of fidelity to his conception of his duty as a citizen.
And that has been the type of his citizenship ever since. To be sure, the danger of being clapped into jail for the assertion or propagation of one's opinions is not very great in this Republic—at least, not yet. But we often hear it said—and, I fear, not without reason—that in our democracy as well as in others, public opinion—a term which is not seldom used to dignify a widespread prejudice, or an unreasoning craze—exercises a tyrannical sway, and that there are many people whose dread of becoming unpopular, or of incurring the displeasure of the influential elements of
