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1 2 3

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&^>^-4^'^])i(i-y'^S.U .

MORAL COURAGE,

AN ADDRIiSS

DKIilVKKKI) AT THE

'|)emiig of t|e J|iftefnl| S-cssi:

QUEEN'S COLLEGE, CANADA,

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^t f £b. f r0f^$j50r (!B^orgj,

VICE PRINCIPAL OF THE UNIVEE8ITY.

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MORAL COURAGE,

AN ADDRESS

DELIVERED AT THE

#jerang of % jfiflctnti Ses5iiDn

QUEEN'S COLLEGE, CANADA,

Ste S^lr. Irjoffmirr £torgt,

▼ICE PSIHCIPAL OF THE UEIVEB8IT7.

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KINGSTON:

JAMES X. CBEZGHTON, BOOK & JOB PBINTSB.

1856.

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MOK^L OOXJR^aE.

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Thi heroie virtues, as they are called, have been great*
I7 celebrated in all ages of the world. I need scarcely do
more tban remind you, tbat a large portion of that ancient
literature, with which you are made iiamiliar in this place,
is employed to unfold the courage and triumphs of the
warrior ; and were it my aim speriall v to commend and
illustrate this kind of heroism, I could do nothing better
than direct your attention to the Epic productions of Greece
and Rome. It is well known to every scholar that the
wonderful genius of Homer, as well as that of some other
poets, has thrown around military adventure a peculiar
glory : nor can it be denied, that some of these writers have
set off the prowess of the warrior with such fascinating
charms as may be not a little dangerotis to young and ardent
minds. But the evil of this fascination is not, that it teaches
men to be brave, but that it is apt to cherish a reckless am*
bition, which seeks bad ends by bad means. I will not
deny that the poetry to which 1 have referred, may have
been made suoservient to this. The labours of genius
have not always been consecrated to holy purposes ; nor
can it be doubted, that the worst passions have sometimes
drawn nourishment from the loftiest productions, as well
as endeavored to find in them apologies for the darkest
crimes. Yet, the well-informed do not need to be told that
the martial poets of antiquitv did not so much awaken and
direct the warlike spirit of their age, as celebrate the heroic
deeds of the people among whom they lived.

Had the Greeks not oeen a warlike people, the Iliad
would never have been produced, nor appreciated. I wUl
not affirm that this class of writers — ^the same is true of
certain historians and orators — have not contributed to
keep alive the war>spirit among men. Yet I cannot but
thiuk they have got more credit^ or if jou wilL more blame
for this toftn they have merited. Asuk, as well as Europe,

has had, at different epochg, warriors of insatiable ambition,
who neither had, nor required the stimulus of poetry ana
oratory. It. is, in fact, on the unsophisticated multitude,
that martial -poetry, as well as- martial music produce their
true effect. The ambitious conqueror does not need to go
to the harp for his inspiration. With high selfish aims and
ample means, he will find that in the boundless pride of
his own heart.

I offer no apology for the poetry or oratory which has
prostituted the sacred gifts of geniu.<<, to celebrate lawless^
ambition, or throw delusive charms around deeds of rapine
and blood. Yei;, why should it be forgotten that our great
poets. Dramatic as well as Epic, if they have not always
taught a sanctified courage, nave, nevertheless, by senti-
ments of justice, honour, and a generous forbearance, done
much to refine and elevate the courage of the warrior. —
We know something of what war has oeen ; yet, possibly,
we know but little what it might have been, but for the hu-
manizing influences of those great and generous minds,
wtio have celebrated martial exploits. It were well if
certain persons who are carried away, not, as they fancy,
by a seraphic benevolence, but by a spurious sentimental^
ism, would bear in mind that some oi the lofliest poetry
in the Bible is employed in celebrating the deeds of brave
men on the field of battle. And who will say that the cour-
age of the warrior, when employed as the instrument <^
heaven's justice, is not a very sacred thing. It is true, mere
physical tjoura^ of itself, as it may be the attribute of very
oad men, and is the attribute of many brute creatures, can-
not be spoken of in unqualified admiration ; yet, in a world
in which injustice and other forms of wickedness, can only
be put down by opposing force to force — that physical cour^
i^e which fits men for meeting bodily sufferings, and even
death, in a conflict with the enemies of God and of ord^r,
is a very valuable quality. It were well, if this never
were needed. But for all practical purposes, we must just
take men as they are. Now, assuredly, ho is a very child-
ish person who needs to be told that there is much of the
selfish folly and injustice of the world, which can only be
met by opposing Jbrce on the side of right to force on the side
of wrong. Hence the necessity of physical oourase for
some of the high ends of j ustice. The injustice that has oa
ear for reason, and no standard of conscience to which w^

;

peals can be made, must be assailed in such modes as it can
feel, and fimote down by such instruments as can reach it.
The wise and virtuous man, who is unintentionally doing
you a piece of injustice, and the midnight assassin, are not
to be encountered by the same weapons. These vievirs at
once explain and vindicute the commendations in the Bible
of military valor. The fact is, the enemies of ri^ht Jhave
♦10 wrong done them, when they ere opposed by just ;3uch
weapons as can most effectually resist their aggressiont).

Where lawless passions and ai)petites employ brute
force to accomplish tneir ends, physical courage is indis*
pensible for the existence of society. A community of
wise and virtuous men would require few laws for its aafety
and prosperity; but in n community in which thoughtless
and unprincipled men are numerous, the best laws ^^come
nullities, if there be no physical courage to make them ef-
fective. The truth of this becomes strikingly apparent,
when we reflect on the relations of nations to one another.
If it be true, that national greatness of a sort has sometimes
been acquired by dishonesty and violence, it is no less true,
that the highest form of national greatness never can be
founded on violence or dishonesty, hut rests to a great ex-
tent on the bravery of a people. By the arts of peaceful
industrv, men acquire wealth, and by wisdom and virtue,
secure Uberty; yet, without courage, their liberty will soon
perish, and their wealth become the prey of cunning and
rapacious neighbors. Indeed, all acquisitions are but
triumphs after conflicts. Without some courage you will
not fightyour way successfully through an intricate pas-
sage in Itorace, or a difEcult problem in Euclid. Courage
is indispensible for these peaceful battles, if you would aim
at success ; yet, it is still more needful, in order to defend
the various precious fruits which patient toil has accumu-
lated. When a people can shew to the unprincipled and
ambitious invader, that they possess courage to make all
sacrifices, rather than submit to one unjust demand, the
probability is, that they will either not be invaded, or the
invader will be defeated. Sparta long retained its inde-
pendence, because all men knew that whatever the assail-
ant might find at Lacedsemon, he would bo sure, at least,
to find many hard blows ere he could, by arrogancy or
injustice, carnr off even a pot of the hlack broth. All the
possessions of cowards lie at the mercy of the rapacious.

And although there has been much tyranny in con*
neetion with trae courage^ yet, assuredly, it has been under
the rule of brave men that the weak have enjoyed protec-
tion and any measure of real liberty. This, to some ex-
tent, was illustrated in ancient times, under Greek and Bo*
man dominion; but, has, in modem times, received fhr
more beautiful devolopments under British authority. No
one can deny that the bravest nations have been the best
masters — the most wise, just, and on the whole, most mer-
ciful in governing those under them. But on the other
hand, as sound reasoning might infer, all experience abun.
dantly proves that the domination of cowaras is the most
merciless tyranny.

I have dwelt the longer on this, inasmuch as I think
there is a tendency in our times to underrate the importance
of true couraye ; because it was longthe fashion to overrate
the heroic virtues ; let us beware, lest we go to the other
extreme. The danger of this is all the greater, from a no-
tion that in proportion as men depreciate the heroic vir-
tues, they are sure to cultivate sentiments of justice and
true benevolence. This is a great error. Woe be to the
weak and the helpless when they fall under the suspicious
malice of the mean and the cowardly. Know ye not, that
cowardly malice finds no security but in the utter destruc-
tion of the object it dreads ; while the cunning, which it
so artfully employs, leaves its victim little opportunity to
resist, an.a hardly any chance to escape.

If mere courage of itself be no virtue, yet, assuredly,
cowardice is a great vice, and the parent of many frightful
crimes. That some of the darkest of these crimes spring
from base selfish fears, and are perpetrated to prevent these
fears being realised, cannot be aoubted. Nor as little, that
men from cowardly apprehensions have in the hour ofper-
il, abandoned the post of duty, and involved multitudes in
certain destruction. For a man to rush into danger, quite
out of the path of duty, or expose h\mself to harm for no
worthy ena, and from no right motive, is not rational cour-
age, but rather the fierceness of a beast, or the phrenzy of
a fool. Hence it is, that the boldness of many is but mere
thoughtlessness, or the blind fury of some dominant pas-
sion. Nay — and not to speak it paradoxically — may not
the most terrible recklessness, be but the extreme ofcowardiee.
A man wants firmness to face poverty or shame before the

world, vet has the recklciB hardihood to rush into the pre-
lenoe of his God. The suicidist is either an utter maniao,
<Hr he is the most guilty and pitiable of cowards.

That physical courage depends to some extent on
physical constitution, is as little to be denied as it is hard
to explain. Without stopping to investigate a matter so
obscure, we may, nevertheless, safolv conclude that some
men, from their bodily constitution, nave natural advanta*
ges for boldness. This is indeed apparent from different
states of body in the same man. Certain diseases produce
a temporary pusillanimity, yet, no candid observer would
infer that thia is characteristic of personal cowardice. This,
I doubt not, accounts for some painful occurrences in the
life of men who were known to oe, in general, persons of
great bravery. Unless we keep in mind the complex nap
ture of man, we never can understand that wonderful law
of action and re-action betwixt the physical and mental,
which throws so much light on the nature and conduct of
human beings.

And yet, after all, how mysterious is courage? How
little does it depend on the mere bones and muscles of men,
or on the general physical constitution of things ? The
ancient Romans, we know, were rather below than above
th<^ average stature, — ^the same may be affirmed of the
Greeks, if we set aside the fictions of poetry and keep to
authentic history. Yet how astonishing was the courage
of both peoples. But the probability is, that Italy, as well
as Greece, contains men now, physically as powerful as
were the inhabitants of these countries when they respective*
ly gave law to the world. The bone and muscle ore still
tnere, but the spirit of the Bom&n is gone. Ittdy is now
— and the same thing may nearly be said of Greece — Uie
abode of slaves, who either bow to crazy despots, or waste
tiieir strength in abortive ebullitions after a liberty whidi
they can neither acq uire nor preserve. The truth seems to
be, that national bravery depends very much on the men-
tal condition of a people, and on those institutions which
nurse great thoughts and virtuous emotions. Without all
this, courage in man will either disapear, or pass into mere
savage ferocity.

And again, how wonderful to think how (he brave
^pckan toordf or the heroic act of one man wOl communicate
Itself like an electric spark, to a whole army. That little

b&nd that went on the forlorn hope to bar the cates of
Europe a^inst the despotism of Asia, was assuredlj com*
posed of brave men ; 3ret, who can doubt, that the heroid
words spoken by Leonidas, made each bosom glow with a
double portion of Spartan fire. In all the Scottish lines,
there was not a man — the meanest Gillie — ^thatsawthe bat>
tle-axe of Bruce descend on the head of the English Knight,
who was not, from that moment, an invincible hero. No
thought of defeat after that. It mi^ht, or might not be
wise m the leader of an army at sucn a crisis thus to ex-
pose himself, yet all the Scottish host must have felt through
that short summer's night, that the crash of that battle-axe
had decided the fate of the field of Bannockbum. How
mysteriously does man influence his fellow 'men ; by a sin-
gle word or act he may enoble, or he may debase multi*
tudes. if-

You see, that on the whole, I think courage a yalufl^
ble quality in such a world as ours. But then, ^ntlemen,
it must be calrrij manly, rational and virttuma; it must in-
deed be like charity, "capable of bearing long and of being
kind." It must be the courage that can face danger when
it comes, but never courts it ; the courage that never
bcMets of its deeds, but is amply satisfied T/vhen injustice ie
repressed and misery alleviatea. He that has this courage
is too just to trample on the weak, and too brave to injure
any creature. The truly courageous is no bully among his
companions, but a peaceful, kind-hearted and genial man.
It were, however, to take a narrow and mistaken view of
the courage I recommend — were you to suppose that it only .
finds a suitable field when in conflict with the wickedness
of men. It may not be questioned, that it is often as atrik-
ingly exemplified in the conflicts which the scientific enqui-
rer nas to go through in overcoming those obstacles iix
nature, which lie in the way of his researches. The cour-
age displayed by Eranklinin his first journey to the Polar
regions, and no doubt also in his last, as well as by Parke
in Africa, was equal to anything ever shewn by the bravest
soldier. And who can think of Columbus going forth on
that strange vojtige of his, with these three poor Barki^
without feeling convinced that there was not in all Europe
a iKtaver soul wan that Genoese mariner. But indeed, the
ooorage of inany travellers and nifvig&tcics fills one witii»
adittiratioA : nor id this lessened when we reflect that thest

men bravely encountered the greatest dangers, that human
knowledge might be increased, and the domain of science
and civilization widened. The ancients deified courage
in one ot its forms. Now, while we look with horror at
the impiety of this, and with sorrow at its consequences,
yet, let us never fail to regard true courage in all its/ormsy
and in all its beneficial labours, with that sincere and ra-
tional respect which is due to one of God's precious gifts.

But it is now time to direct your attention more espec-
ially to Moral Courage, which is really the topis I am
anxious to explain and press home on your consideratioa

If moral courage may be, under peculiar circumstances,
modified slightly, by physical causes, it is neverthe^-'ss
plain that it depends chiefly for its strength and efficient
action on the condition of the mind ; for, very plainly, the
courage that enables a man to advance through great diffi-
culties and trials on the path of duty, or to stand firmly
and calmly at his post in the midst of dangers, must draw
its strength from some of the highest principles of heaven,
and deepest feelings of the human breast. Under the im-
pulse of some strong passion, the ignorant or vicious may
perform, occasionally, deeds of extraordinary daring, and
even manifest wonderful self-denial ; but it is only the man
whose mind is enlightened by true wisdom, and whose
conscience is influenced by divine principles, that can man-
ifest a consistent and lofty moral heroism. Such a man is a
true moral hero, because the champion of what his con-
science tells him is the right thing ; hence, he is emphatical-
ly the soldier of that God who is the King of righteousness.

You need to ponder it well, gentlemen, that by your
thoughts, words and deeds, you are ever fighting on the
side of right, under the God of light, order and justice : or,
on the side of wrong, under the Prince of Darkness. The
man of moral courage is the man " who fights the good
fight of faith." Moral cowards are traitors to the best in-
terests of their fellow-men, and little as they think of it,
faJde to their own highest interest, and what is comprehen-
sive Ci all, they are traitors to God. To triumph in the war-
fkve against wrong, is to be victorious on the side of right.
.fv I do not affirm, that either extensive information or
higti mental accom[)lishments are indispensible to moral'
ooiirage'^yet, for this, there must at least be some measure
of that knowledge which constitutes the elementary trutibs

'■4

of a vigorous faith ; as f ar aB the mind possesses this, the
conscience can draw nourishment from it for moral cour-
age. The heroes that the world stands so much in need
of, are such as at all perils, will strive to beat down and ut-
terly destroy moral wrongs, and at all hazards, will struggle
to sustain moral rights. Is not this indeed, man's great battle
in life? Nay, rightly considered, does it not involve the
whole conflict betv;een hervcn with its justice and love on
the one hand — and hell with its injustice and misery on
the other? But then to fight this battle wisely and tveUf
men must know what these rights are, to which I have re-
ferred. It is a melancholy reflection ; that moral Quixotes
in what department soever they labor to correct wrongs,
will only be laughing-stocks to the wise, and in the end
make ''confusion worse confounded."

AH rights are either personal or social, or are the rights
of God, which plainly taKe in all. A thing is a wrong,
just because opposed to one or other of these rights ; or to
express it more definitely, that is a wrong and ought to be
resisted — which is opposed to the perfections of God, or
His law. You perceive, then, that the moral hero is really
struggling to sustain all the claims of the government of
God in its principles and operations. He feels that to do
this, no sacrifice can be too great, nor can it ever be inap-
propriate. He knows, that as a creature, he is not his own
out God's ; and as a redeemed creature, he feels himself

gowerfully .constrained to consecrate all that he has to the
onour and service of his God. Hence, he who under-
staids the rights that God has in him, and the rights which
God by promise has given him, will be ready to do, or bear
whatever his heavenly Father requires of him. The mercy
of God m allits aspects, furnishes the most powerful motives
to redeemed men, to be devotedly on the side of heaven.
If a man sees clearly his relations to God, and the gracious
relations of God to him, he must feel it to be the height of
Injustice to do what is wrong. For the wrong thing done
by man, is ever a violation of some right of God. The
principle I wish to establish, thus acquires an intense sig-
nificancy ; inasmuch, as on the ground we take, no man
can be a moral hero, who has not a clear and profound faith
«h all the claims of justice. But these claims, steadily and
sternly commanding the assent of the understanding, and

the homage of the heart and conscience, — and in that man
there is a never-failing element for moral courage.

The moral coward is essentially unjust and dishonest ;
unjust to G-od, and then dishonest to his fellow-men. Let
no one wonder that a man has become utterly hollow, and
is the creature of mere pretences, who has played falsely
with the sacred claims of justice. Oh, my young friends,
it is a fearful thing to be unjust. A man under the influ<
ence of some dominant appetite or passion, may fall sadly ;
jet, despair not of that man, if he retains something like a
clear view of the claims of justice, and trembles when these
claims are rung in his ears. But, alas 1 when conscience
gets so debauched as to what is just, that a man "calls
light darkness, and darkness light," then it may be feared
that the very foundations of his moral sentiments are all
out of joint — ^are all broken up. In a word, the man of
\ moral courage, must in the fullest sense be a just and hon-
^^ est man. This sense of justice is the first element of his
strength.

But, although a sense of justice is indispensable, it is
not the sole quality that makes up moral courage. Indeed,
this, when fully developed, may be regarded as a sort of
ameral out come of many virtues and gracjs. And hence,
I would remark, that in addition to unbending honesty of
purpose, there must be great reverencs for the government
analawi of God, and for all that is good in these sacred and
civil institutions which God has given to man. Out of this
comes the heroism that makes men famous as patriots in
the tause of liberty ; but more famous still as martyrs in
the cause of divine truth. The false is ever at work. And
I will not affirm, that that God, " who can bring good out
of evil, and make the wrath of man to praise Him;" has
never brought good out of spurious patriotism., or psendo-
martyrdoms. Yet it is plain, that the moral courage which
has been directly, and in the highest degree beneficial to
the world and the church, is that which has sprung from a
pure reverence for truth. It is thus that the simple rever-
ence which many Christian martyrs have shewn for what
their conscience told them was truth, secures our hi^^hest
admiration. It has happened not seldom, that these noble
witnesses could not defend with logical skill the testimony
which they gave. But, although, they could not argue
with the art of the dialectitian, yet they could die with a'

bravery becoming God's witaesses for trutlis, which they
believed. This they could do well ; other things they could
not do so well. But of all things, that of equivocating was
the one which they could by no possibility do. 01 it is
grand to contemplate these simple men and women with
the Boot, Thumbkins, and gibbet before them, standing with
sealed lips, when a single equivocation would have saved
them from torture and death. Their enemies called this obsti-
nacy. Angels must have called it the sublime of moral hero-
ism, and when they returned to heaven would rejoice to pro-
claim, that there were yet on earth souls faithful to the God
of truth. And who can estimate the value to men of the lefl-
son given by this undaunted adherence to truth ? It may
have wonderfully inriuenced the whole mind of a people (#id
I should be loath to think the effect of the lesson will <Mret
wholly cease. No one can rise from the perusal of the
martyrologies of France, Great Britain, or the Netherlftlids,
and then utter equivocations without feeling the bitin?est
shame, or if he cannot feel shame, he may well tremble^
lest he may have reached that point at which a mati can
desperately trifle with the claims of truth without a blush.
The legacy which martyrs for truth have left to the world,
has far more in it than at first sight we are apt to suppose*
Is it not, indeed, this simple reverence for truth, as
well as a profound reverence for the great principles of
heaven, that gives to the death of the patriot or marlyrj
such precious meaning and real majesty ? These men are
the true witnesses for God ; but when they witness even
to death, there is no warning which their testihiony iftore
distinctly announces than this, — that when man loses hii
hold on truth, he loses all right and friendly communion'
with God, and becomes the sport and victim of every per-
nicious error. To lose fellowship with God, is to lose all*
But he who takes this view, cannot but revere the Author
of all truth ; he feels that in its relation to God, and also
from its relation to man, divine truth is worthy of any sae>>
rifice he can make for its sake ; he knows well) that were
God's truth to perish, there would no longer be anything
worth living for, for then all would be confusion and mis-
ery. Nor should this view be taken merely in reference to
great political or religious truths, but should be held as to
truth m all its forms. There are minor truths, but no one
is mean or valueless — ^the very least should be regard^ as

9UJ>

Bacred, as the very least ia a link that connects our minds
in one mode or other with God, as the God of nature, or of
grace. No one will deny the correctness of this view ; and
assuredly, were it held as it ought, and the reverence for
truth felt, which it should inspire, no man would be capa»
ble of the cowardice of uttering an equivocation,. Equivo*
cators and liars are base moral cowards, just because they
do not revere the Fountain of Truth, nor reverence the rays
that emanate from that Fountain. It were, indeed, well that
the liar should know that ere he attempts to blind others,
he has himself become fatally blind to the beauty and
grandeur of truth.

But to the highest forms of moral courage there must
also be pure and ardent love. Without this, m a world of
folly and sin, your sense of justice might tend but to pro-
duce a cold severity, which would, to a sad extent, unfit
you foal being the patient and tender benefactors of the
thoughtless, and the ungrateful in their wretchedness. It
is easy, on many accounts, for a man animated merely by
a high sense of justice, to make sacrifices for the wise and
the grateful, but nothing, save a heavenly love, will induce
a man to toil and suffer, for the vicious and unthankful.
But these are the very persons who stand most in need of
help, and for whose elevation the greatest sacrifices are
needed. The toils, sufferings, and self-denying efforts of
true patriots — such as Cromwell and William the Third —
in striving to save a people from slavery, amidst the folly
and selfish ingratitude with which they had to contend,
givei a beautiful illustration of the power of benevolence for
communicating peculiar strength and grace to moral cour-
age. Yet, the power of love, is far more needful to the sue*
cessful efforts of the man, who labors to give a spiritual ele-
vation to barbarous tribes in heathen lands, or the more
barbarous hordes, who although within the pale of civiliz-
ation, are yet living " without God and without hope in the
world." No men stand more in need of moral courage than
Christian Missionaries, and to their honor, be it said, none
have given more splendid manifestations of it than they. — ^
That all true missionaries have a high sense of justice, hon-
esty of purpose, and reverence for truth, cannot be ques-
tioned ; they require these qualities in no ordinary degree
—And yet, but K>r their arderU love to the Saviour and the
souls of men, they would never have the oourage that is

needful to toil patieatly amidst great diffloaltles, or die tri-
umphaatlv for the fariherance of their work. Great is the
power of love ; man or aagel withoat it were powerless for
good. Select the noblest achievments, whether ia the Se-
nate Hall, the battle field, at the stake, in the hovels of
fuilt and misery, or in the domestic circle, where a great
eart has had to straggle unseen with some sore calamity,
and should you analyze all the elements that gave strength
to the wonderful bravery of soul in the statesman, the war-
rior, th3 missionary, the martyr, or the noble martyr wife
or child, you would find that the main element of that
great strength was the love "that many waters cannot
quench ; — ^the charity that hopeth all things, and believeth
all things."

Brave men, we have said, are never cruel ; but the
soul, to possess the highest moral courage, must be deeply
imbued with the purest love. Indeed, without this, your
resolution to achieve something good for the thoughtless
and the wicked, will either evaporate in a short-lived burst
of enthusiastic effort, or be soured into disgust and misan-
throphy. Iligh talents without love, will only make you
'selfishly brave, or expertly cunning. It is the loving heart
that feels wisely, as it is the loving heart alone that will
make sacrifices for others.

Ohl gentlemen, I cannot now speak as I could wish of
that grandest manifestation of moral courage, which the uni-
verse has ever witnessed. And yet, was tiot the Saviour of
men sublimely heroic in going through His mighty work ?
He saw ail Its difficulties, yet He set His face as a fliig; to
the work; His declaration was, — "The cup which the
Father hath given me to drink, shall I not drink it." We
know His divine power was infinite, and we can hardly
form anjr conception how great His human powers were,
from their near and mysterious union to the divine. Yet,
who will say that by these powers alone, He would have been
fit for the work of redemption, or indeftd, that He ever would
have undertaken it, but for the power of love ; " For the
joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross." Was
it not love that gave to this joy its peculiar force and mean-
ing. Assuredly love to the Father and love to the souls of
men, afforded to " the man of sorrows," the chief motive
for all His self-denial and all His sufferings. The Saviour
most be your example in cultivating every virtue and ev-

l"^

ery grace. But the truth of this is peculiarly apparent in
reference to moral courage. If you would know what the

{principles essential to this in its highest forms are, study the
essons of Jesus ; if you would learn what the motives are
that yield the largest amount of power to the soul for moral
acts, look at the motives which mfluenced the mind of Je*
BUS ; — ^and if you would see moral courage producing its
most precious fruits for the unworthy and the wretched,
study the work and character of Him who went about do-
ing good, " and who, when reviled, reviled not again," but
still went on doing good. Oh, it was just because Eman-
uel loved as no one else ever loved, that He could thus
' labour and suffer. It admits of no question, that the higher
your virtues and graces are, and the purer your motives, so
just altogether the better is your condition of mind for self-
denial, and those sacrifices which adherence to the path of
duty may require.

And this leads me to remark next, ^at a good consci-
ence — ^good in every sense, will be found indispensable to
moral courage.

The sentiment of the poet is indeed true: "'Tis con-
science that makes cowards of us all." Out of an ill consci-
ence all sorts of cowardice will spring. On the other hand,
all heroisms are strengthened by a good conscience. The
man who hears the voice of God through conscience com-
manding him, and who is conscious that the All-seeing
eye is on him, and who feels that there is an eternal heaven
or an eternal hell in the question of every moral act, will do
bravely, or endure bravely, whatever God requires of him
in the path of duty. Conscience enlightened by God's truth
forbidding this, or requiring that, puts to flight at once all
sophisms, and brings the soul with simple directness to meet
the claims of duty. I can not help thinking, that moral
cowardice gives you in general, the diagnosis of a man's
conscience. The cunning man, with his artful expediencies,
and his heartless and selfish prudences, is but little aware
how much of his miserable success is attributable to the
suppleness of his conscience. It must be confessed, that
were the battle of life to be fought and won in a day, and
were its highest trophies wealth, ease and honour, the man
of sturdy honesty of conscience, might well envy the suc-
cess with which these Artful Dodgers wriggle themselves out
of difficulties, or by the help of simpering and soft-sawder,

quietly slide on to their desired object. But the battle of
life is not won in a day, and these are not the trophies — to
^ain which, an immortal soul should stake all. Nor should
it be overlooked, that the moral coward, with his shifts and
expediencies, is often in the long run fairly beaten by the
man of simplicity of motive, and bold honesty of purpose.
But be that as it may, it is a solemn truth, that the success
of moral cowards by the arts of a selfish prudence, is really
a very fearful defeat ; such arts waste conscience, — ^but no
man can waste anything more precious than that. And as
this process of waste goes on, it is sad to consider, that he
who is thus trifling with his conscience, is every day be-
coming a weaker and a worse man. Fear is a very oebas*
ing passion ; but fears that will enfeeble the whole mind,
must arise from a conscience abused. He who fears less
to offend God and wound his conscience, than he fears to
displease his fellow-men, and sacrifice his own selfish ends,
win have fears enough ; but the righteous man, who "keeps
a conscience void of offence towards God and towards his
fellow-men," is bold as a lion. And why not ? The differ-
ence betwixt him and the man who is dishonestly trifling
with conscience, is unspeakably great. The selfish man of
expediency is bold, while he stands on the strong side, with
hopes of profit, no darger of sacrifices and the voice of ap-
plause sounding in his ears ; but the moment he appre-
hends that his stand for what is simply right will place him
in the minority, or endanger his fame, wealth, or ease, then
will he strive to find expedients to satisfy himself, that for
the present it is just as well to let things go as they may,
and that prudence " is the better part of valour." Pru-
dence I — ^Speak against prudence ? God forbid. It is not
only a virtue, but without it no virtue can be safe, no tal-
ents useful. If the young want it, they are in constant per-
il ; if the old want it, their case is hopeless. Yet, woe be
to the man whose prudence is never so thoroughly in re-
quisition, as when schemes are to be devised to silence the
plain dictates of conscience. This is not the prudence of
great and wise minds, but the cunning of little, sharp and
unprincipled men. It is, indeed, the common folly which is
seen every day — snatching at trifles because present, and
giving UD what is great because remote.

And now, you see plainly Uiut it is faith unitina the
dQvl to the great truths of God, that gives to man strengw for

«*■ A

going forward in duty and for standing flrmlj in the hour
of trial. The Bible speaks of faith under the figures of an
anchor and a shield — ^ooth are, indeed, very significant — for
he who has true faith has views of duty, obligations and
motives, which hold him fast to principles and enable him
to resist temptations to violate his conarlence, altogether
different from what that man has who is guided chiely by
a selfish prudence and the maxims Oi a worldly expedien-
cy. Selt-interest, managing its own concerns shrewdly as
it thinks, never dreams that it has only an eye for tnflee,
and is utterly blind to all that is great. The thoroughly
selfish man is his own greatest enemy ; but the eye of laith
looking at the real, the distant and the vast, enables a man
to fasten on what are at once his own hiehest interests, as
well as the interests of others. Faith, indeed, shuts a man
up simply to do the will of God, and in this simplicity of
motive lies its marvellous stren^h. To him whose chief
end is the approbation of his God, the applause of his fel*
low-men must be a very small afifair. Whether he shall
have their friendship, or encounter their hatred in the path
of duty, is but little to him whose soul is inflamed with the
desire of having the firiendship of God. Indeed, on the
whole, how little in his eyes must appear the loss of all
earthly pleasure, or the things that minister to it, who firm-
ly believes that for those who overcome, a crown of glory
and a kingdom that fadeth not away, are prepared in the
heavens. Nor will the faith of this cause a man to disce-
gard the fact, that those who are true to God will never be
wholly without the approbation of wise and good men. —
The desire, indeed, of tne approbation and love of such, is
natural to the highest order of minds, and is not a little
consoling even to the most powerful. This is a source of
strength to upright men ; in fact, they are the only men
who can honestly appropriate and safely use the applause
of their fellow-creatures. Nor is it fancy to suppose that
such, especially in arduous duties and heavy trials, have
the approval of creatures of a higher order than man. Do
not angels look down with applauding delijzht on him, who
ftom pure motives, is bravely performing the task assigned
him by his God? Are not many of the acts of self-denial,
or noble daring in what is good, that find no record on
ettffth, joyfully noted by this unseen " cloud of witnesses?"
Ooe womd fiun think so.

But faith can realize more than this, and lo jieH
strength for moral courage. The man of faith knows he is
erer performing his part m the presence of the Omniscient
gracious and just God, and that this infinitely great and
glorious Being looks on, not merely with the eye of a su*
preme ruler, but with the benignity of a loving father.
What restraints from evil, — what holy impulses to good
must spring from this? He who can E>ay, " the Lord of
Hosts IS on my side," can add, "I will not be afraid what
man can do unto me," and he who can say, 'Hhe Lord is
my portion," will not sacrifice his conscience to save his
property or fame. This faith has been in all ages the se-
cret of that wonderful power by which men have gone hero*
ically through arduous duties, or borne heavy trials. He
that hath it will be true to his conscience, and self-denying
and diligent in duty, when no human eye sees, ana no
voice applauds. And if, unhappily, through sudden temp-
tation, he does what is mean or wicked, he needs no finger
of human scorn to awaken in him remorse and shame. It
is enough that the holy God hath seen him do what is
wrong. For him, it is enough that the great witness above
saw him, and that he carries in his bosom another witnesiL
that honestly condemns him. I do very much wish that I
could press this one lesson home on your heart ; — thai a
Mtrong faith actinff on a good conscience is the chief means of
moral courag^i. The man who has this will not treat with
SQprn or neglect, the approval or censure of the world, but
neither will he be hampered or guided as to his moral acts
by the enquiries ; — what will men think or say if I do this,
or what will be its effects on my ease or my prospects in
life? "What does God require? What does conscience
approve? Yes, this and not what men will think or say,
must decide as to the course to be taken in duty, or the
position to be kept, be the consequences what they may, as to
a man's personal gratifications. The conclusion tnen at
which we arrive is, — that he who has little moral courage,
has but a feeble hold on great principles ; a dim perception
of justice, little love, weak faith, and a rickety conscience.
That such men should, nevertheless, hold a respectable
place in the world is a sad proof how much they have had
to do with the fiishioning of its opinions.

. But, gentlemen, there are occasions when it will be
fi>and that a higher order of courage is necessary to turn

tedb than to go forwArd. Men often go forward, not ao
much under the influence of principles well deflned and
firmly embraced, as from the force of pride, and by the help
of " the sweet voices" of the majoritv ; but to retrace your
steps when justice demands th:it this should be done, re*
quires the power of genuine humility, and the aid of a
faithful conscience. If men were inftillible, the moral cour-
age necessary to turn back would never be needed. But I
do not need to tell you that the wisest may err. Men of
great and varied excellence may f .11 into erroneous opin-
iona for a time, or cherish false and uncharitable impres*
sions as to certain of their fellow-men. Nor is this all. —
If the^ are persons of influence, they may lead others not
only mto speculative error, but into very hurtful courses.
But cooler reflection and better information may, in time,
enable the wise, but mistaken man, to see his errors. Now
comes the pinch. Shall he frankly own them, and strive
to correct them : or, because he has committed himself to
the wrong side, shall he still adhere to it? Alas! what A
deal of falsehood, meanness, and all sorts of iniquity does
that phrase, — commilted to his party, or to certain opintonSf
cover. It is right for a man to adhere staunchly to his
party and to his opinions, but he must do this no farther
than truth warrants. Properly speaking, a man should be
oominitted to nothing but to truth ; to adhere consistently
to thii is wisdom and goodness : but to adhere to error, be-
cause once embraced, is folly and wickedness. Who can,
indeed, measure the wickedness of the man who persists in
error, that he sees or even suspects, and still leads multitudes
on in a wrong course, rather than frankly own that at first
he misled them through misapprehensions. It may not be
easy for such a hian to get others to retrace their steps, but
the more difficult pari is, first of all to turn back himself: — ^in
a word frankly to own that he has been in error.

And yet, when this is done, how grand and beautif\il
does it appear as a moral act. Is it not grand to hear a man
humbly, yet boldly and fearlessly confess his ignorance, (Bi>
rors, uncharitableness, or false conclusions. He that can
do this honedtly and meekly, is no ordinary man. When
ye have witnessed it, does not the remembrance of it stick
to you ? With what admiration would yOu 'regard that
Jrotith, who with moi£rt»ned eye and tremulous limbs, wo^d
go^iip to the eonipanion whoni he had miisapptehenaed and

9«

miiijepNMDted, And frankly oonfeit bii error Md bii hnXt
]| vou ihottld ever, in lome trying hoar, speoiftlly need tb*
Mip of a friendi oleave. if you can, to the arm of that man.
He that ii not afraid tans to go back on self, to correct
what is wrone, will not be afraid to go forward with yoa
in what is righL It is a pity that this form of moral cour-
age should awaken so much of wonder fix>m its mere rar-
ity, for truly, occasions are not wanting for it. And my
young friends, I beseech you by all that is noble in senti-
ment, generous in feeling, and sacroil in conscience, cherish
the manly, honest and christian integrity, which will en-
able you to confess frankly any fault in conduct, or error
of opmion. Truly I think if you have any conscience or
honour, the applause of the world for going forward, when

Jrour secret thoughts tell you tJiat you ahomd turn baek^ and
ead others back, must be a kind of irony peculiarly bitter.
It were amusing, and in manv ways not a little iustructiva
to know, what some men in tneir hours of retirement have
thouffht of the applause which greeted them in public, for
monu coura£|e to which they knew Uiey had no daim. It
must be cunous to see how these persons look at their
laurels in their bed*room of a morning.

I am very sure, in what I have said, I have not over-
rated the importance of moral courage. Tried by results
it is hardly possible to over-estimate its value. I appeal to
your knowledge of history, if I am not right when I say,
that this has been a prominent feature in the character of
bvery man. who has done much to establi^ truth and en-
large the boundaries of human liberty and happiness?
Many of those who have done nobly in the war^re afri^ht
Qiffainat wrong^ wanted many things, the possession of which
would have added not a little to the beauty and complete^
1^^ of their character. Bui not one ofihm, loanted vmt^
courage; they all excelled in this. It was, indeed, by
means of this, " that they waxed valiant in fight, — ^turned
^ flight the armies of the aliens." " Wrought righteowh
oess, quenched the violence of fire, andstopped the mouthii
9lf lions." *^^ ,

^ But^wbatever may have been the field of action of m^
nl heroes they should be held in lasting remembrance.-r-*
Tbat they did not seek earthly fame, is no reason why th^'
Id not have the admiration and lov^.of all mf &• P^a
' >nriqr 8\icb, has the hii|>pl^ eflMa ouym m%

C
»

«\

mindi. No righUv ooostiiuted mind can think of the teili^
8elf*denial and sunerinfln of the great Apostle of the Qti^
tilen, while striving to cfeliTer the world rrom dradly errors,
and lead men to a knowledge of the truth, without facing
elevated and delighted by the miyesty of his character.
The same emotions, although in n lower degree, are ezpe^
rienoed whenever you contemplate a mind of like qualities
labouring for the same god- like ends. There are no por>
traits fVom history, so pregnant with instruction for the
joung, OS the representations of those patriot, who, for>
eetfhlof self^ bravely sacrificed their personal interests for
tne good of their country ; or of those Christian martyrsi
"who counted not their life dear" if they could give a fiUl
testimony to the truth of the gospel. When the Roman
people crowded, as they often did, to the amphitheatre, to
see the early Christians die a cruel death, rather than utter
one word against the truth, they understood but little of
what thoy saw ; but least of all, could they understand the
courage of these men. No veteran that ever followed the
standMxb of Rome, possessed a courage like to that which
Christianity gave as a new thing to the world. For these
soldiers of the cross had not only learnrid how to die brave-
ly, but in the midst of hatred and scorn, to die meekly, and
with love to their enemies burning in their bosom. This
was moral courage in one of its grandest forms, and those
who have thus witnessed for the truth, in what land or un-
der what circumstances soever, were assuredly true mo/al
heroes. Nor were they defeated as their enemies thought
Such men with their cause and their leader, could not be
defeated. They triumphed. Yes, and their triumphal
chariot, often one of fire, and kindled by wicked hands was
watched over by angels until they reached that world
where crowns of glory and palms of victory awaited them.
And yet, of moral courage men can judge but imper^
liBctly. So much depends on motives, whion we but paiv
tially comprehend, and then^ not seldom, its sorest labour^
have been performed, and its greatest triumphs won, in
those obscure corners of life of which history savs nothing.
We may safely conclude, that in the present liie we know
but little of many of the wonderful victories of moral Conr-
ad. Hence, not till the muster roll is made up in heavetii
inll it be known for certain, who were the bravest for tkm
gkwy of Qod| and who toiled with the greatest patienoc^

peneverance, self-denial and parity of motives iti the path
of duty. In this, that saying may have peculiar meaning,
•^** The last shall be first, and the first last." : '

But in urging on you the importance of moral courage
you will miss the main lesson thai I wish to teach if you
lanoy it is only required for great occiisions and high places.
There are, no douot, situations in which it is peculiarly
needful, as in these the moral coward is sure to do unspeak-
able mischief. No tongue can utter the mischief which
must spring from moral cowardice in stcUesmeii, high judi"
dalperwnsj or in ministers of relv/ion. The wisest cannot
weigh with accuracy the effects of moral cowardice. Yet
it may be fairly questioned, whether open villanv hasdone
great^ harm to the best interests of society, tfian moral
cowardice, when it has played falsely with the weighty
claims of great trusts. For instance, now often have per^
sons, utterly incompetent, been apj^oin ted to the naost re-
sponsible situations, rather than displease friends, or offend
partisans ? History records instances of thousands perish-
mg, and even great nations brought to the brink of des-
truction by the appointment of incompetent persons td
places of great trust. Now this evil is not less dreadful',
although not so apparent in its immediate results, when the
incompetent are appointed to be the moral and spiritual
guide of their fellow-n»en. Large communities have in this
way, for generations, been grievously inj ured. We see but
dimly the connection here betwixt cause and effect, or to
what extent the cause may reach in producing its effeot*<
Yet no one can &il to see that there is heinous wickednesi^
in appointing a man to such a post, with neither intel-
lectual nor Spiritual fitness for the task. Let me be under-
stood. A man applies for ecclesiastical qwxUJUxiti'mt or for
induction into the work of the gospel mmistry. Now, if
those in whose hands the power is placed of judgirt^, see
his unfitness, yet declare him competent,-^how fearfully d6
they trifle with a most solemn duty. These men do not
aot in opposition to their understanding, but to their cdil^
science. Plainly theyought to have set aside the applicaut,*
They needed not "tlw power of discerning spirit*' t<>knd#
that tbemaan was unfit to have the care of immortal soulir.
Butihen^ to have been honest would have hurt the feet*^
iagB of the young man, displeased his fHends, <^ e^xpo.<)ed
themseli^eft t(» 0ome loss or Uneasiness, and on th^ whdfe^i

thej oonuluded it best to give tlieir asaent Well, in ttiili
way, their work Was done. But who can tell when the
no-work of the incompetent man shall be done. He went
into the vineyani not to work, but to destroy the work of
others, and to be a pitiable thfler with the spiritual and
eternal interests of men. I do not !*fBrm, that in such ca*
ses, direct wickedness is intended, The claims of duty are
simply disregarded from some baso, selfish motive, or pos-
sibly from a mere softness of disposition, which shrinks
from displeasing a friend, or the friends of a friend. Men
cidl this kindness. Alas I if the whole business were fair-
ly looked at, it would be seen to be on all hands, the height
of cruelty All kindness that works at cross purposes
with justice, is cruelty in disguise, and withal a very terri-
ble sort of it.

Put now the cure for this, and much evil of a like sort
is simply a higher order of moral courage. Let there be
such a prolound regard for what is right, as God declares
it to you through conscience, that neither the fear of man,
nor the favor of man, shall drive you one hair's breadth
from the path of duty. Would it not, indeed, be a changed
world if all men, or even a goodly number, were to act
thus.: Pray to God for an increase of moral courage in all,
but especially in those in whose hands are placed the great
civil and religious interests of the world.

It is quite probable, that not a few of you, may, in
future, have divers of these high trusts committed to you.
I implore vou to employ these talents which maybe put
into your hands, with a stern regard to the simple claims
of justice, conscience and duty.

If LoLW is lobe your vocation^ and the social and civil
afifuirs of men the objects that are to engage your attention
in future life, let such a high moral honesty characterize
your whole deportment as shall give form and complexion
to all your acts. That country were indeed blessed, that
could boast a race of moral heroes in its statesmen and law*
yers. w^

Nor should it be supposed that moral courage is of
small moment-to the Medical man. Often, indeed, must he
courageously adhere to the path of duty, even when his
own ]i< is in peril. Still, oftener, must he stick determin-
i^tely to what is duty, in spite of whim, i^ncnrance, or oa>
prioe^ or he will put the lire of his patient m peril If ^e

Medical man must always be tender, it mnst be the tender-
ness of a bold fearless man. Nor dare I omit to state, al-
though but in a hint, that his moral courace, as well as bis
prudence may be sorely tried when he Unas it his duty to
tell his patient that he has no farther help to give, and that
the great Physician of souls must now be looked to for
healing.

After what has been said it is scarceful needful to add
that a Minister of the Oo^l without moral courage is a very
despicable and dangerous man. He that cannot be bold
for the truth, bold ror the honour of his Master, and bold
in "plucking brands from the burning," isyery unfit for the
sacred office. He may have learning to command respect
and refinement, to please persons of taste : but if he does
not possess moral courage, to proclaim fearlessly the dan-

S}r of sinners, and to announce fully the whole truth of
od, be it ever so offensive to men, he will sadly fail in
his work. He is, indeed, a workman that should be
ashamed " who handles the Word of God deceitfully," and
who through, unfaithfulness, leaves souls in "the bonds of
inquity."

Yet, it is not merely in these high places of peculiar
responsibility that moral courage is required. No man in
the lowest station can be safe without it. The peasant and
mechanic, not less than the Statesman or Clergyman, must
possess a profound reverence for truth and the claims of
duty, or from the temptations to which they are daily expos-
ed, they will fall into sin. I assume, what no one will deny,
tiiat much base equivocation, as well as direct lying, may be
traced to moral cowardice. Were men bold for the simple
truth, and did they give a ready ear to the slightest whisper
of conscience, their yea would emphatically be yea, and their
nay, nay. What tongue can utter the dreadful conseauences
of moral cowardice in the tvitness box^ or still more in tne jury
box. It is plain, if either witnesses or jurors think more of
personal consequences from what they are to say, than of
what truth and law require at their hands, the most horri-
ble injustice may be done to individuals or society. For
tiie support of our civil and judicial institutions, much is
necessary; but men are apt to forget in thinking of other
requisites, that an unbending honesty is the foundation of
the whole* Apart from the guilt brought on his own soul,-
thtkooirardly equivooator little thinks how.&tal fait oondoet

•V

1 •

would be to the most sacred institutions of the land, were
it to become general. He that is a moral coward is in spe«
oial danger of becoming a liar. But the liar is not only the
basest, but the most pernicious of men.

But there is another view of our subject which has a
peculiar claim on your attention. If you are to carry mor-
al courage with you into active life, vou must cultivate it
new. I do not presume to say what the grace of God, and
the discipline of circumstances may in future do for a lad
who is passing through College, with the well marked traits
of moral cowardice deepening in his character; yet, surely
the promise is not great for his future course. It ought,
assuredly, to be our aim, not merely to make you scholars,
but to educate you thoroughly. But we would feel that we
were doing this very imperfectly, were we not to labor with
our whole heart to train you to be morally brave. For it
is fixed in my soul, that without moral courage, no amount
of learning or intellectual improvement can ever make you
great or useful in the world. The learning that but sharp-
ens the wits of an unprincipled man, only makes him more
wieked, or more mischievous.

■ Bui, my young friends, you need moral courage for
iiQiiiediate use. Many of vou have lately left the parental
roof. Not a few, I trust, have carried thence much godly
counsel, and have been sent forth with many earnest pray-
ers. These are, indeed, precious means for future well-be-
ing. Yet, I entreat you to beware, lest these and other
means may be all neutralized by the influence of godless
companions. I do not know that there are any vicious
young men attending this institution ; yet, where so many
are together, it is not uncharitable to suppose that there
may bei some whose example it would be dangerous to im-
itate. If there be such, let the virtuous be upon their guard
against this ill influence. Friendships formed at College
have much to do in giving color to a man's future life. — *
I need not say, if good companionship beunspeakably ben-
eficial, wicked companionship is exceedingly injurious. —
This, indeed, may msidiously gain such an influence over
even a youth of -mtuous principles, as graduallv to under-'
niine them. In most cases this is not done sudidenly, noF
without frequent resistance. The well instructed youth
Bdes danger in the allurements to vicious courses, and for »^
tiii&e^Minig^es against them. He cannot, at once, forget

the counaelis and prayeni of the parental hearth. He ihud*
ders at the thougntof doins what would grieve kind hearfta,
and blast the pure and lofty hopes of friends* But theo^
he has daily to encounter the vitiating iniiuence of some
wicked companion, aided, it may be, by the fascination of
manners, and the charms of friendship. He trembles, he
loathes, lie hates, — does all things but one, — Uj does not
utter the emphatic NO when tempted. He dreaJs the
temptation, fears the sin, but fears still more to ofiEend the
tempter. He cannot say no, or cannot say it with that
boldness of front and firmness of conscience which the oo*
casion demands. Ah I me, how many noble souls have
been ruined just for want of the siem no at the right mo-
ment. Yes, it is true, that the soul that falls before temp'
ation from a wicked companion, may lack much needful to
strengthen it, and may be sadly biassed bv much corrup-
tion within ; yet, it cannot be questioned that the want of
moral courage, to resist the first allurements to evil was the
most grievous want of all.

Young gentlemen, hear me, — as you value yourpeaoO)
honor, usefulness and eternal welfare, — hear me ; at ofUsCf
and with unshrinking boldness resist every allurement that
would draw you aside from the path of duty. In a mdmmif
break the connection of any companionship that has but the
appearance of drawing you into sin. Friends, — no, it is a
delusion and a lie, they are not your fri^ds who would
break up the friendship betwixt God and your soul. TMft
friendship of the world is death. Resolutely set your &oe
against being ensnared by it. "Resist thedevil and he w^l
flee from you." But then to be laughed at, and sneered at^
" Aye, there's the rub." For how many Iwive be^ eoii^ea
by a laugh into sin, and turned from the path of dxUy by a
sneer ? He who is such a coward — and coward he is, — aa
to tremble at the sneer of wicked companions, is liable to
be befooled into any evil course. When vadious persons of
energy and cunning discover this weakness, they cap play
with their victim as they choose. Nor should it be matter
of little regret, that men of amiable complacency and sweett^
ness of disposition, even with gOod princi^es, are peculiar-
ly exposea to the arts of such Reducers. To meet these, 1
would not have you cheri^ mulish stubbomiiess, but.odii<^
scientious firmness of principle. Many a disastrous oaieeE
of vice, oould it be traced to ii» soilToe, iroidd be idwoA 1»

'%.

hare sprung from the want of moral courage at the critical
moment What begins in moral cowardice may end in
deep criminality. What begins in treason to God, may end
<n open rebellion against Him.

But here, it is specially needful that I guard you a-
gainst misnaming things. This is, indeed^ a sore evil, and
yery common in our times. To call hellish vices by the
names of heavenly virtues, cannot but lead to the most
frightful confusion of ideas, and the most ruinous effects on
conduct.

A bare^ced impudence is occasionally mistaken for mor-
al courage. That the man who will boldly say anything,
without any consideration of time or circumstances, shpuld
fancy himself bold for the truth needs be no matter of won-
der, inasmuch, as he is generally as deficient in prudence
and common sense, as in delicacy of feeling. He reckless-
ly utters whatsoever the prevailing passion prompts, with
as little regard to the feelings of ouiers, as to the interests
of truth. Such a man is not the resolute champion of truth
and riffht, but is, in fact, the slave of pride and ill-temper.
Like all braggarts, he is bold where there is no danger, but
the most arrant coward where there is. Such a man is far
enough from being a moral hero. True moral courage
deals not in loud pretences, but is modest in its professions,
and ever sensitively delicate to the feelings of others. " It
never boasteth of itsel£" It is true, in denouncing com-
placent wickedness, or inveterate folly, it may have "to
speak roundly," but there will be no Ijluster about self. —
As educated men, with some refinement, of manners, you
arc not likely to fall into this vicious folly, or mistake it
fat moral courage. It has neither its wisdom, dignity nor
calmness.

BiU self-conceit, calm, circumspect, prim, and even bland,
is much more likely to be mistaken for moral c jurage, and
is fer more pernicious to its possessor than the bold folly
which I have been censuring. To have a true appreciation
<tof your own talents, is no small qualification for usefulness
in life. The false modesty that underrates attainments,
may paralyze very excellent powers. Yet, the opposite
extreme of overrating, is £ar more common, and far more
fanttfttL An oppresBive modesty is apt to see too much
paatuets in otkiera ; over weemng conceit sees nothing great
wit «f ialfi Tlia w''^ooaoeiit«d man eiinnot advance, jor he

never looks tip ; never looks above himself— never sees any*
thing to admire or love, but what is in self, or a reflection of
self. If this be adverse to intellect iu its higher develope-
ments, it is still more adverse to the moral health of the
bosom. The intense vanity from which this springs, deep-
ly vitiates all that is pure, noble and generous in the heart
and conscience. The self-conceited person has seldom in-
tellectual greatness to command respect, and never those
qualities of heart that secure love and esteem. In the eyes
of all right thinking men, he is an exceedingly poor crea-
ture, and whenever he happens to possess any power, is to
the last degree troublesome and mischievous. He is, in-
deed, the one "who is wiser in his own conceit, than seven
men that can render a reason." Now, although the ele-
ments of moral courage are wholly wanting in the self-con-
ceited ; yet, he is almost sure to fancy himself possessed in
no ordinary degree of the thing. His readiness to assume
any undertaking, his pertinacious adherence to his own
opinion, in opposition to the reasoning of wise men, and
his entire complacency in hLs own conclusions on the most
difficult subjects, not to speak of his supreme contempt for
the judgment of others, must have a natural tendency to
beget in him the notion that he is possessed of singular de-
cision of character, of great firmness of purpose, and of un-
bending adherence to the dictates of conscience. The aelf-
conceited man is, in his own eyes, a hero, and when he
happens to suffer for his conceit, he fancies hiTnself a martyr.
AVould to God that such men would condescend to ask,
whether the path which they pertinaciously pursue, bie that
of duty, or merely their own way which olmd self-willed-
ness chooses to take. Whether their adherance to what
ihey call great principles be nci. the adherence of a vain
mind to its own fancies; and if their firmness, for what
they call conviction, be ought else than the stubbornness
of pride. Like many others, the self-conceited man if he
would mend, must begin by throwing away much ; and fis^
of all, he should throw away the notion that he is a man of
moral courage. On the whole, not much can be made of
him. But surely it were a vain attempt to try to make a
moral hero out of a piece of foolish presumption and stdb-
born conceit. No, venly, this is not the greatness thatean
save the world. Young men, be not deceived, he thatgoes
to the devil fi>r qualities to make him great, is nearly as &v

mfmm

from the mark as if he went for lessons to make him good.
Conceit gives strength to nothing that is valuable, and, as-
suredly, affords no strength to mpral courage, nor should
it be mistaken for it. In the misnaming of things, it is
hardly possible to conceive any form of the mischief great-
er than that which is sometimes seen in the matter to which
I have referred.

But I must have done. Our hope is, that you will ac-
quire within these walls such lessons and training as may
make you morally brave in fighting the battles of right a-
gainst wrong, and may enable you manfully to overcome
the difficulties which you may meet with in life. A Col-
lege education should aim at giving such a thorough intel-
lectual training and moral culture, as may in the best sense
qualify young men for discharging, with ability and fideli-
ty, the important duties to which they may be appointed.
But, without moral courage, you will find yourselves but
ill prepared for any duty, and for some trusts to the last
degree incompetent. For all the important duties in life,
you will require energy of character, vi^or of intellect, pu-
rity of conscience, singleness of aim, and great boldness for
truth. Endeavor now to cultivate all these qualities. —
Dread everything morally base. " Abhor that which is
evil; cleave to that which is good." Never breathe the
slightest falsehood, and under no pretence utter the least
equivocation. And, oh! never play those tricks with con-
science which will make you blush on your pillow ; but,
which if indulged m, will sear conscience, and harden you
beyond shame. Be every way brave, open and ingenuous.
Fear God greatly, for this will keep you from that sinful
fear that causeth a snare. And never forget, that the basest
of men, and the man often exposed to the greatest dangers
and crimes, is the Moral Coward.

And in fine. When you see that you are about to
enter on the performance of any duty, or about to be call-
ed to encounter any trial which may require a more than
ordinary share of moral courage, go to that God for strength
^'who giveth liberally and upbraideth not." The grand
cause of innumerable disastrous failures, is trusting to mir
own strength. Men of the greatest mental vigour, when
they do this, need not wonder that they fail. It is in your
dosety wrestling with God on your knees, where you may
expect to have that promise fulfilled : — " As thy day is, so

nwiiu j.vi

shall thy strength be." Without the grsoo of Ood, yon
will be sure to fhll in the hour of severe trial. But with
the ffrace of God, and the aids of His divine Spirit, you
willM enabled to do valiently. Go forward then with C^w
kind of bravery in your hearts, determined ever to stand
firmly on the side of right against wrong, and to perform
your part in life, so that an enlightened conscience will ever
commend, and the God of justice and goodness ever ap-
prove.

you
with
you
ithis
Land
brm
ever
ap-

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