In our own city, as they do in every American city, the public schools
rise up before us like waymarks upon the path of prosperity. They are
the waymarks on the road to fame, and the boy may measure his way
through them until he arrives at the distinction to which they direct
him. There is no boy in Baltimore, nor in any city of the United
States, but may honor the name of American citizen. And there is no
boy but may study his way to character, to prosperity, and to eminence,
in any profession he may choose. He may shine as a star in the social
circle, in professional life, in the nation’s councils, in the field,
and in religion’s walks; the way is open before him. The invitation
is given him to enter and pursue it. The crown is on the height which
rises to his view, and he may urge his way up to it,――he may win and
wear it. To persevering zeal the palm is sure. Let every boy that
belongs to a public school write his motto in his cap, and let him
_read_ the Latin, and _feel_ the English of it whenever he puts it on
or takes it off. PALMAM QUI MERUIT FERAT. “_Let him wear the palm who
wins it._”