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(SIGN OF THE BIG BOOK,) 
 
 S)a%ttBtown, itlarijlanb, 
 
 g@^ Keeps constantly on hand the largest and best assort- 
 ment of BOOKS & STATIONERY; Blank Books of every 
 description mo.nufactured to order. A great variety of FAN- 
 CY ARTICLES always on hand. 
 
 GOLD PENS. PENCILS, PENKNIVES, LIDFS 
 Mimt axib Mxxsmi Instrummte. 
 
 |>@°= Gray on the Priesthood of Mdchisedeck. — This is the 
 best and the only treatise on this perplexing subject. It at 
 once relieves and delights the mind of every Student of the 
 Bible 
 
 VS^m, STEWART, 
 
BETHUNE'S ORATIONS. 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2011 witii funding from 
 
 Princeton Tlieological Seminary Library 
 
 littp://www.arcliive.org/details/orationsoccasionOObetli 
 
ORATIONS 
 
 OCCASIONAL DISCOURSES 
 
 BY 
 
 y 
 
 GEORGE W. BETHUNE, D. D. 
 
 NE W-Y ORK: 
 
 GEORGE P. PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Putnam's American Agency, 49 Bow Lane, Cheapside. 
 
 1850. 
 
Enteeed, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by 
 
 George W. Bethune, 
 
 in the Clerk's OfiSce of the District Court for the Southern District 
 
 of New- York. 
 
 AND VEE: 
 
 J. D. TLAGG & W. II. WAnD'miLL, 
 
 STEEEOTTPERS AND PEINTERS. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The frequent requests made of the author and his 
 publishers for copies of the Addresses, etc. now collect- 
 ed, have suggested their publication in the present form. 
 On reviewing them for the press, the author has discov- 
 ered the repetition of some main thoughts in several of 
 the discourses ; but, as they were pronounced before dif- 
 ferent audiences, and were meant to be of a practically 
 useful character, it was hardly possible or desirable to 
 avoid what might, had the circumstances been otherwise, 
 have deserved censure. At any rate, he has not felt 
 that he would be justified in making alterations, but gives 
 them as they were originally presented. 
 
 Philadelphia, July, 1849. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 Genius ; Address before the Literary Societies of Union College, 
 
 1837. 1 
 
 Tbue Glory ; Sermon on the death of Stephen Van Eensselaer, 
 1839 35 
 
 Lbisuee, its Uses and Abuses; Lecture before the New York 
 Mercantile Library Association, 1839. 55 
 
 The Age op Pericles; Lecture before the Athenian Institute 
 of Philadelphia, 1839 87 
 
 Oration before the Literary Societies of the University of Penn- 
 sylvania, 1840 125 
 
 The Prospects op Art in the United States; Address 
 before the Artists' Fund Society of Philadelphia, 1840. . .157 
 
 Discourse on the death of William H. Harrison, President of the 
 United States, 1841 197 
 
 The Eloquence op the Pulpit; Oration before the Porter 
 Rhetorical Society of the Andover Theological Seminary, 1842. 209 
 
VJU CONTENTS. 
 
 The Ddties op Educated Men; Oration before the Literary 
 Societies of Dickinson College, 1842 281 
 
 JIbe Duty op a Patriot ; with allusions to the Life and Death 
 "of Andrew Jackson, Jolj, 1845 319 
 
 A Flea fos Stttdt; Oration before the Literary Societies of 
 Yale College, 1845 343 
 
 |Thb Claims op oub Country upon its Litbrart Men; 
 ^"Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard Univer- 
 sity, 1849 381 
 
GENIUS. 
 
 AN ADDEESS 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE 
 
 LITERARY SOCIETIES OF UNION COLLEGE, 
 
 SCHENECTADY, N. Y. 
 
 JULY, 1837. 
 
 PUBLISHED AT THEIR REQUEST. 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, 
 
 " Hsec olim meminisse juvabit !" was the motto of my class 
 on the day we left the shades of Academic life for the ruder 
 world. How twe the prophecy has been, those weU know, 
 who look back, after a lapse of years, upon such peaceful 
 scenes. The remembrance is sweet and sad, as the exile's in 
 a sultry land of the springs which slaked his youthful thirst, 
 but whose freshness he may never taste again. Indeed, but 
 for the sympathy which such associations inspire, I should not 
 have dared to address you with the brief preparation, which 
 a recent return, after a long absence from many pressing du- 
 ties, has permitted me to make. I rely upon a correspondent 
 good feeling for your kind acceptance of my efforts to serve 
 you. 
 
 " Nearly one hundred of us," says the letter of your com- 
 mittee, " are about to bid a final farewell to our beloved Alma 
 Mater, and hope to listen to your friendly appeals and kind 
 admonitions." This intimation leaves me in no doubt as to 
 what portion of the present audience I am expected to ad- 
 dress, or the character of the theme I should pursue ; and, 
 although arrived at that period of life when I can claim nei- 
 
4 GENIUS. 
 
 ther the apology of youth nor the dignity of age, I may at 
 least assure you of an honest desire to fulfil your wishes. 
 
 The subject I have chosen is one fascinating, perhaps above 
 all others, to the youthful student, who burns to prove his in- 
 tellectual armor in the melee of the world, and yet one, about 
 which many and fatal errors are often entertained. 
 
 IT IS GENIUS. 
 
 We have all felt the power of Genius. Our privilege, as 
 students, has been to follow her flashing torch along many a 
 path to knowledge ; to hear the strange music of her angel 
 voice amidst scenes of beauty, which only h%r enchantments 
 could create ; and to admire, almost idolatrously, the monu- 
 ments she has erected in all ages, the beacon towers of the 
 soul, 
 
 " And but for which, the past would be 
 A desert bare, a shipless sea." 
 
 Yet, familiar as the effects of Genius are, it is not easy to 
 define what Genius is. The etymology of the term will, how- 
 ever, assist us. 
 
 It is derived from the verb, signifying to engender or create, 
 because it has the quality of originating new combinations of 
 thought, and of presenting them with great clearness and force. 
 Originality of conception, and energy of expression, are es- 
 sential to Genius. Thus Shakspeare describes poetic Ge- 
 nius: 
 
 " The poet's eye, in a fine phrenzy rolling, 
 Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven — 
 
GENIUS. 5 
 
 And as imagination lodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
 Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing 
 A local habitation and a name." 
 
 Genius is not a distinct faculty of the mind, but a union of 
 many. It is a beauty and vigor of the whole soul. To con- 
 stitute it, there must be imagination to assemble our ideas, 
 and judgment to discriminate ; quickness in perceiving, and 
 perseverance in acquiring them ; memory to retain, and good 
 taste to select the beautiful and harmonious. These qualities 
 may be combined in different proportions in different persons 
 possessed of genius, but the nearer the approach to perfection 
 in them all, the more perfect will Genius be. 
 
 Mere imagination, however lively, is not Genius, although 
 essential to it, for it may produce the most absurd combina- 
 tions. There must be judgment and good taste to secure pro- 
 priety and consistency. Such fictions, as centaurs and mer- 
 maids, can never give pleasure, because there is no congruity 
 between the head of a man and the body of a horse, or the 
 body of a beautiful woman and the tail of a fish. They are, 
 as Horace tells us, " hke the vain vagaries of a sick man's 
 dream." But how exquisite the Titania of Shakspeare ; 
 
 " Lulled in the flowers with dances and delight !" 
 
 and how grand the Satan of Milton ; 
 
 " Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 
 And floating many a rood !" 
 
 because, though equally creatures of the imagination, every 
 1* 
 
t) GENIUS. 
 
 part of the description is consistent, and assists in bodying forth 
 the idea of the authors. It is the admirable judgment pre- 
 siding over the vast imagination of Homer, which, more than 
 that imagination itself, has made the earliest of uninspired 
 poets the standard of his art; while the conceits of Shak- 
 speare, so far from being justified by his mighty genius, are 
 universally considered its lamentable blemishes. 
 
 It is equally clear, that as all our ideas are derived, this 
 power of combining them, where it is possessed, must bear a 
 certain proportion to the power and exercise of perception 
 and memory. The Scotch youth, of whom Dugald Stewart 
 writes, who had neither sight nor hearing, may have had it, 
 but it necessarily remained latent ; and no one can estimate 
 the range which would be added to the now astonishing ge- 
 nius of Nack, the deaf and dumb poet, if the sense of hearing 
 were bestowed upon him. 
 
 Genius can never be acquired, but it may be cultivated 
 without limit. This the ancients beautifully expressed, in 
 the allegory which made the Muses daughters of Jupiter and 
 Memory. The gift is divine, but worse than valueless, with- 
 out abihty and pains, on the part of its possessor, to provide 
 the ideas with which to form its combinations. The sacred 
 flame has gone out in the mind of many an one too indolent, 
 or unable, from various causes, to supply the necessary oil. 
 
 " O munera nondum 
 Intellecta Deum !" — Lucan. 
 
 Genius varies in its tendencies from the various structure 
 of the human mind. There is a Genius for science, and a 
 
GENIUS. 7 
 
 Genius for the arts. The term, also, is often used in a lower 
 sense, to indicate the peculiar adaptedness of an individual 
 for a certain pursuit, such as a Genius for mathematics, for 
 mechanics, for music. It will, however, be readily perceived, 
 that the limits of the present address forbid my entering into 
 nice distinctions. I shall, therefore, speak of Genius in its 
 large sense, freely deriving my illustrations from any of its 
 developments, and submit only such considerations as may be 
 useful to those, generally, whom I have the honor to address. 
 
 In pursuing this design I will speak, — 
 
 Of the proper aims of Genius ; 
 
 Of its cultivation ; 
 
 Of some mistakes concerning it ; 
 
 And of the peculiar advantages enjoyed in this country for 
 its exercise. 
 
 Genius is one of God's mightiest works. There is nothing 
 in man, which has such power for good or evil. Neither 
 time nor space can limit its influences. Wherever it is be- 
 stowed, it is a sacred deposit, of which a severe account will 
 be required ; and, like all God's other gifts, should be employ- 
 ed in the advancement of his honor, and the good of mankind. 
 It is the use, not the possession of Genius, which ennobles. 
 To do good, is the highest distinction to which man can as- 
 pire, for it is most like God, and to do good, is the highest aim, 
 the only proper end of Genius. This is not a sentiment pecu- 
 liar to the disciple of that divine Ensample of human excel- 
 lence, who " came not to be ministered unto, but to minister ;" 
 it is also that of Tully, the best of heathen moralists : " Nihil 
 utile, quod idem non sit honestum, nihil honestum quod idem 
 
8 GENIUS. 
 
 non sit utile — et nullam pestem majorem in vitam hominum 
 invassisse, quam eorum opinionem qui ista distraxerint." 
 
 Grenius is, therefore, not to be wasted on the mere personal 
 enjoyment of its possessor. He is not idly to follow the ec- 
 centric impulses of imagination, because he loves to wander 
 in a maze of luxurious thought, to dream delicious pleasure in 
 the sunshine, or listen entranced to the voice of nature, " tell- 
 ing of things which no gross ear can hear." This were to 
 abuse the gift, to bury a treasure which might have enriched 
 a world, and to obscure a light which should have led to hea- 
 ven from whence it came. The birds sing out their thankful- 
 ness, the flowers shed forth their incense, the stream murmurs 
 praise, there is a whisper of God's love in the breeze, and the 
 leaves it plays among are tremulous with joy ; and to be si- 
 lent amongst them all, to have the soul filled with beauty and 
 delight, yet keep it locked hke a miser's chest, is to be un- 
 grateful to God, and unfaithful to man. 
 
 He is scarcely less guilty, who employs his genius only to 
 acquire personal fame. A love of reputation may mingle 
 properly with other and higher motives, but alone is unwor- 
 thy of the man of Genius. God has exalted him above the 
 common herd, to instruct, to enlighten, and to bless them. 
 But he, who would win their applause, must ordinarily stoop 
 to pay its price in his own degradation. Popular applause 
 has been bitterly described to be, " stultorum et improborum 
 consensu excitata."* The ready way, for Genius to please 
 them, is to decorate their follies, flatter their prejudices, gild 
 their vices, and pander to their lust. Lucifer, the son of the 
 
 * Cic. Tus. Quses. v. 
 
GENIUS. 9 
 
 morning, fallen from an archangel to a fiend, is not a more 
 awful spectacle than Genius thus prostituted. And yet how 
 often are we called to behold it ? Into what sties of profli- 
 gacy, have many of these prodigal sons of God wandered, to 
 lavish their birthright upon the vile ? In what kennels of im- 
 purity do some of their rarest gems He hidden ? Modesty 
 abandons the search, and virtue weeps to remember, that 
 
 " Ev'n the light which led astray, 
 "Was light from heaven." 
 
 Whatever false hopes may promise, self-reproach wiU, soon- 
 er or later, embitter such a triumph. The world cannot make 
 up for the loss of a happy conscience. A sense of suicidal 
 guilt is the sure and severe avenger, that pursues from God 
 the despiser of his richest gifts. The most abandoned must 
 acknowledge, in the bitterness of his inmost soul, the comeli- 
 ness of the virtue he has cast away. Happy was his death- 
 bed, who could say, " he had never written a line which he 
 then wished to blot ;" but horrible must be the last hours of 
 him, who is dragged to the judgment seat by the accusing 
 spirits of thousands, seduced from purity and encouraged in 
 vice, by the fatal and fascinating influence of his perverted 
 Genius. The only fame, worth possessing, is the good opin- 
 ion of the good and wise. Upon this alone we can honestly 
 congratulate ourselves, and it can be gained only by the con- 
 secration of our powers to the public good. Even the multi- 
 tude, that now reject their faithfullest servants, will in after 
 years unite to honor the memory of an Aristides banished for 
 his integrity, and believe it more honorable, to have been once 
 
10 GENIUS. 
 
 a consul like Lselius, than to have been elected four times like 
 Cinna. 
 
 It is, indeed, wrong to condemn every effort of Genius not 
 severely didactic or demonstrative of truth. There is sound- 
 ness in the remark of Sir Joshua Reynolds, that " if certain 
 sectaries," (whose virtues we must honor, while we differ from 
 their peculiarities,) " were right, God would have clothed the 
 world in drab ;" and there are Quakers in morals, who are as 
 far astray from the example of their great Author. The 
 dweUing place of primeval innocence, among whose holy 
 shades God walked with his sinless children, was a garden ; 
 and still He loves to scatter flowers about our path, and gives 
 us taste to relish the beauty of his works. So, there is a use 
 and a sanction for the flowers of Genius. Yet surely it should 
 not be the occupation of a life to weave garlands, or to sing 
 the summer time away like the grasshopper. The bee sings 
 too as he gathers his stores, and there should be honey, the 
 honey of truth, in our flowers, if we would have them like the 
 flowers of God. The acanthus of the Corinthian capital adds 
 no strength to the column, yet who would say the sculptor's 
 skill was wasted upon it, or wish to tear away the graceful 
 ornament ? Notwithstanding, it is the stability of the fabric 
 which gives perpetuity to the decoration. To mingle the use- 
 ful with the beautiful, is the highest style of art. The one 
 adds grace, the other value. It would be a poor summing up 
 of a life upon earth, to find that all the powers of an immortal 
 intellect had been devoted to the amusement of idle hours, or 
 the excitement of empty mirth, or even the mere gi'atification 
 of taste, without a single effort to make men wiser and better 
 
GENIUS. 11 
 
 and happier. If the examination be made, it will be found, 
 that those works of Genius are the most appreciated, which 
 are the most pregnant with truth, which give us the best illus- 
 trations of nature, the best pictures of the human heart, the 
 best maxims of life, in a word, which are the most useful. I 
 speak not now of what men pretend to admire. There are 
 names of men of Genius, which are in everybody's mouth, 
 and ring out in every schoolboy's harangue, whose works no 
 one, but the all-devouring student, ever reads ; but what are 
 the quotations most in use, the volumes most handled ? Are 
 they not those of the character we have described ? The one 
 class are like the medals stamped for a passing occasion, ad- 
 mired for their beauty, and then buried in the cabinet of the 
 virtuoso ; the others, like the current coin which passes from 
 hand to hand at a ready value in the interchange of life ; and 
 yet, there is no reason, why the die of the coin should not be 
 beautiful in design, although the bullion must be sterling to 
 give it worth. 
 
 The aim of Genius should be correspondent with its pecu- 
 liar character. The Creator has wisely given a variety of 
 talent to accomplish his various purposes. Every man has 
 his particular mental characteristics. Men are not born with 
 the same minds any more than the same features. They are 
 fitted for various pursuits, and to force one's genius from its 
 natural bent, is to undergo a painful labor with the certainty 
 of loss. So, to attempt excellence in everything is to fail in 
 all. The world has seen but one Michael Angelo ; and we 
 know now nothing of the admirable Crichton except that he 
 was a universal Genius, who accomplished nothing that sur- 
 
12 GENIUS. 
 
 vived Mm. Our aim should be chosen after a careful exam- 
 ination of our capabilities, and then steadily pursued. Many 
 a man of Genius has died without success, because contin- 
 ually changing his course as every bright meteor shot athwart 
 it. But never should that aim be other than one of useful- 
 ness. No man is destitute of capacity for that, and none 
 other is worthy of any man. To this, indeed, we should com- 
 pel ourselves. The world may say : 
 
 " How sweet an Ovid was in Murray lost !" 
 
 But whenever it is more useful to mankind to be a Murray 
 than an Ovid, we should not scruple to make the exchange. 
 Generations of happy people will bless the name of the fear- 
 less expositor of right, while virtue sickens at the lascivious 
 flow of numbers, more dangerous because sweet. 
 
 The aim of Genius should like its own nature be lofty ; 
 truly lofty, above meanness, and selfishness, and indolence, 
 venturing aU for the accomplishment of great results in the 
 achievement of real good. It is sufficient to determine the 
 worthlessness of a thing, to know that it may be easily gained 
 and without a sacrifice. 
 
 " Before heaven's gate High God did sweat ordain." — Spenser. 
 
 The very consciousness of a high destiny gives us an in- 
 domitable courage ; the contemplation of great aims expands 
 the soul ; the prospect of difficulty rallies all our powers ; the 
 slowness of great results keeps them in continual exercise ; 
 and only that, which elevates us above the ordinary world, 
 requires aU our powers in all their energy while life lasts, is 
 
GENIUS. 13 
 
 worthy the pursuit of immortal mind. Nor is this inconsistent 
 with real modesty. Timidity and indolence are feebleness 
 not modesty. No one doubts the modesty, any more than the 
 magnanimity, of Howard ; and Jesus himself was meek and 
 lowly in heart, while filled with the purpose of a world's re- 
 demption. Quaint George Herbert speaks for us here direct- 
 ly to the point : 
 
 " Pitch thy behavior low ; thy projects high ; 
 So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be. 
 Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky, 
 Shoots higher much than he that means a tree. 
 A grain of glory mixed with humbleness, 
 Cures both the fever and lethargickness." 
 
 Great usefulness to mankind, pursued steadily and energet- 
 ically, though at the sacrifice of ease and temporary fame, in 
 that way best adapted to our peculiar powers, and with a con- 
 stant sense of our accountability, is the true and only proper 
 aim of Genius. 
 
 The cultivation of Genius is the next branch of our 
 subject. 
 
 Genius being composed of, or, if you please, dependent upon 
 various powers of the mind, it follows, that the cultivation of 
 those powers is the cultivation of Genius. To treat of them 
 separately, would be, at this time, impracticable. I shall, 
 therefore, confine myself to a few general remarks. 
 
 Every addition to the number of ideas which we possess, 
 adds to the resources of Gfenius. Zeal in the best methods 
 of enlarging our knowledge, is thus essential to success. Such 
 industry may be profitably practised by every one who has 
 
 2 
 
14 GENTCS. 
 
 the use of his senses, and reason to direct them. It is not 
 only from books that we may learn. Nature is one vast 
 volume, and every page, written by its Almighty Author, re- 
 pays its student well. Lockhart, in his Life of Sir "Walter 
 Scott, tells us, that in his youth he attempted to acquire skill 
 with the pencil ; and it is to the habit of close observation 
 thus acquired, he supposes, we are indebted for the graphic 
 fidelity of his written descriptions. There may be some truth 
 in the supposition, but it is unnecessary. Close observation 
 seems to be one of the strongest characteristics of Genius. 
 The most careful inquirer into natural history is often as- 
 tonished to find, that an author of Genius, making no preten- 
 sions to science, has been before him in discovery ; and the 
 physiologist quotes the great master of the human heart in 
 proof of the phenomena, for which he endeavors to account. 
 Byron, in one of his letters, confesses that he was detected in 
 an error, as to the habits of the eagle, by a painter, who illus- 
 trated the passage ; but he does so, with a degree of shame 
 that proves how great a defect he considered such inaccuracy 
 to be. This truth to nature is one of the great charms of 
 Genius over us. We recognize the power of the delineation 
 without knowing, perhaps, how it is produced. There hangs 
 in the cabinet of Baroccio, at Florence, a Madonna in grief, 
 by Sassoferrato. There are no tears, there is no distortion of 
 the countenance, nor any of the ordinary signs of grief by 
 which it is usually presented to us ; yet nothing can exceed 
 the touching expression of the mild blue eye and pale un- 
 wrinkled brow. Her soul, pierced through with many sor- 
 rows, seems to look out and ask you for sympathy with a grief 
 
GENIUS. 15 
 
 too deep for tears. The effect is doubtless produced by those 
 minute lines, which escape the eye of the ordinary observer, 
 and which none but a master's hand could transfer to the can- 
 vas. For the same reason, every attempt to copy the Bea- 
 trice di Cenci of Guido, or the Venus de Medicis, has failed. 
 No hand can follow the great master in the one, and the deli- 
 cacy of the lines is lost in the casts of the other. We see 
 this effect in a good portrait of one we know and love. It is 
 not in the mere shape of the features, or the general contour, 
 that the resemblance lies, but in the scarcely distinguishable 
 lines which mark the characters ; and precisely as we are 
 familiar with the individual, are we difficult to satisfy. This 
 is true of Genius in all its forms. It is upon nice accuracy of 
 observation, that the orator, the poet, the metaphysician and 
 the natural philosopher depend for success. Their attention 
 is so fixed and their perception so keen, that nothing escapes 
 them ; whether, from their peculiar tastes, that attention be 
 directed to the weighing of evidence, the beauty of a land- 
 scape, the workings of human passion, the actings of their 
 own minds, or the facts which are brought to light by their 
 experiments. If we read a speech of Erskine, we wiU see 
 how he brings into his argument, as it were, rivulet after 
 rivulet, small in themselves, but all contributing to swell the 
 mighty river of proof, which bursts upon us in the cataract of 
 his conclusion. If we study an essay of the unpretending but 
 matchless metaphysician Reid, we find him laying open to our 
 view the workings of our own minds, and making our con- 
 sciousness bear witness to his truth. The chords of our 
 hearts vibrate in unison with those that are touched by tlie 
 
16 GENIUS. 
 
 Ploughman of Ayr. Newton would never have discov- 
 ered the law of gravitation, that first step of his walk with 
 the God of nature, but for the closeness of that observation, 
 which permitted not an acorn to fall from the bough, without 
 remarking the force of its descent. " There are some men 
 who will walk from Dan to Beersheba, and complain that 
 they have seen nothing ;" but they are not men of Genius, 
 and can never be men of sense. He, who would be rich in 
 knowledge and original thought, will not allow a dew-drop to 
 glisten in the morning sun, or a flower to bloom in the 
 meadow, much less the more mysterious phenomena of nature 
 within and without him to occur, and not acquire truth by 
 severe yet delightful scrutiny. 
 
 I have surely no need, in addressing you, to insist upon the 
 necessity of study, in the strictest sense of the term study. 
 The complaint of Dr. Johnson is more true of the present day 
 than it was of his own : " that the mental disease of this gen- 
 eration is impatience of study, and contempt of the great 
 masters of ancient wisdom." It may be hoped that the atmos- 
 phere, which you breathe on these heights, was too pure for 
 the epidemic to have reached you. This is, however, the age 
 of digests, and compends, and abridgments, and many a pigmy 
 upon the shoulders of the giant past exults in his elevation, 
 as if he were more than a giant, and not a pigmy still. But 
 you, my well educated friends, will agree with me, that, 
 though we may increase the rapidity with which our bodies 
 are carried along, there is no steam power to assist the mind. 
 Talk as we please about " the march of mind," and " the 
 schoolmaster being abroad," it requires but little observation 
 
GENIUS. 17 
 
 to see, that what we are, is owing to what our mighty fathers 
 have been. The authors of the present day, with here and 
 there an exception, are doing little more than spinning atten- 
 uated thread from the material of ancient lore, or vieing to 
 see how thin they can beat a tiny fragment of pure bullion, to 
 cover their works with tawdry tinsel. Is it not refreshing to 
 leave these babbling shallow brooks, which glare out into the 
 sunshine that must soon evaporate them, and seek in the cool 
 deep shades of former wisdom, 
 
 " Sanctos — recludere fontes 1" 
 
 " To be ignorant of the past is to be always a child," says 
 Cicero. All the researches, the discoveries, the refutations, 
 the memorials, the very mistakes of the past, can only be 
 available to us by study. Without it, we may waste our pow- 
 ers and time in pursuing exploded errors ; wander, lost in 
 perplexity, close to well defined paths, and congratulate our- 
 selves upon an originality, as thread-bare as the cloak of Di- 
 ogenes. We cannot know what remains to be done, or to be 
 learned, unless we know what has been done and learned al- 
 ready ; and how can we know this without research ? By 
 ancient learning, is not meant only the writings of those who 
 are commonly called the ancients. There are mines of 
 thought in the older writers of our own language. One page 
 of some of them will repay our perusal with more sterling 
 truth, than the teeming productions of the modem press for 
 a whole year. With very rare exceptions, (and those who 
 are popular among the good thinkers of the day are rarer 
 still) there is scarcely a living author, whom it is not lost time 
 
 2* 
 
18 GENIUS. 
 
 to study, while we permit the dust to gather upon the homely 
 covers of our father's books. 
 
 Besides the mere acquisition of ideas, this study is neces- 
 sary to ripen our judgment and correct our taste. Not that 
 we should study for the sake of imitating them, or even of 
 borrowing from them. " No man ever became great by imi- 
 tation," said the great English critic. The mere imitator never 
 acquires more than the faults of his model ; and he, who decks 
 himself in borrowed feathers, will be only the more ridicu- 
 lous when his deceptions are discovered. We are to study 
 the standard authors, that we may learn the rules of art by 
 careful analysis, and store away ideas for future combinations. 
 As one acquires the air and manners of a gentleman by be- 
 ing conversant with good society, though he may make no 
 man his model, so, by being conversant with good authors, we 
 come insensibly to partake of their spirit and refinement. 
 Thus, there have been some very few poets, who, by the mere 
 force of Genius, have risen to great eminence, though de- 
 prived of literary advantages ; but those who have enjoyed 
 them, however great their natural powers might be, delight 
 to speak with gratitude of the privilege. Horace did not 
 blush to admit, that he studied the Greek Poets night and day, 
 and recommends the same course to all ; while Cicero tells 
 us, that the Attic orators were his masters ; yet who doubts 
 the original Genius of either ? It is pleasing to observe the 
 influence of classic study upon the minds of our purest wri- 
 ters. Not unfrequently, the ideas of their favorites become 
 so incorporated with their own, that they know them not to 
 be otherwise than original, and give them forth to us in all 
 
GENIUS. 19 
 
 the freshness of original Genius. Thus, Milton was proba- 
 bly not aware that the epithets " most musical, most melan- 
 choly," which he applys to the nightingale, are almost an ex- 
 act translation of the Poet of Salamis, whom he loved so 
 much: 
 
 " /xe?iu6bv — Saxpveaaav ." — Hecuba ; 
 
 and Campbell derived the main idea of his beautiful couplet ; 
 
 " 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
 And robes the mountain in its azure hue," 
 
 from the same author, for Euripides is a favorite of his too : 
 
 " Oh ravTov eidog (paivErai tuv UpayjuuTuv 
 Upoaw&Ev ovTuv eyyv'&ev ■&' opu/ievuv." — Ion. 
 
 Yet, surely, no one would accuse either of plagiarism. 
 
 Indeed, such is the pleasure of these studies, that the man 
 who has the opportunity of pursuing them, and neglects to do 
 so, gives sufficient proof that he is destitute of that taste and 
 judgment, which are essential qualities of Genius. 
 
 It may be added, that the cultivation of the power ofmemo' 
 ry is very necessary, in order that we may retain the ideas 
 we have thus acquired with so much pains. There are few, 
 who do not complain of their deficiency in this, when, perhaps, 
 they would be seriously offended at the charge of deficiency 
 in any other power of the mind. Yet we cannot see why a 
 man is less culpable for not improving his memory, than for the 
 neglect of judgment. Certainly, like every other power of 
 the mind, memory may be improved. Stewart has treated 
 this subject with so much ability, that a reference to his chap- 
 
jSU genius. 
 
 ters is tie best suggestion one can make. The great secrets 
 of a retentive memory are attention and order. The mind 
 can be occupied only about one idea at the same time. "We 
 must, therefore, learn one thing at a time, having the mind 
 bent intently upon that one thing, until we see it clearly and 
 understand it fuUy. When this is done we rarely forget. It 
 is indeed questionable, whether an idea is ever forgotten. We 
 may not be able to recall it at the moment we wish, but still it 
 lies in the storehouse of the mind, and rises again to notice at 
 some other time when the chain of association is regained. 
 It is therefore of great importance to preserve this associa- 
 tion. To do this, it is necessary that there be order in our 
 minds. A place for every idea, and every idea in its place. 
 This order can only be the result of severe mental discipline. 
 We frequently remark the ease, with wliich we can remem- 
 ber a discourse, the heads of which are clearly defined, and 
 tiie order carefully observed. We rarely forget our knowl- 
 edge of a science, the fundamental principles of which we 
 have thoroughly studied and understood. The illustrations 
 which a skilful writer employs to make his meaning more ob- 
 vious, greatly assists our recollection of the main idea. We 
 should, therefore, reject all that quackery, which pretends to 
 assist and improve the memory, otherwise than by the culti- 
 Tation of the mind generally, and the habit of close attention 
 in particular. It may well be doubted, whether even the 
 keeping of a common-place book, except for references to 
 where valuable thoughts may be found, is not productive of 
 mOTe evil than good. We learn rather to rely upon the as- 
 sistant than upon ourselves, and the time spent in transcrib- 
 
GENIUS. 21 
 
 ing might be more usefully employed. It were better to pause 
 and read again the passage that has interested us, and ex- 
 amine ourselves strictly as to our understanding of it ; or, if 
 the pen must be used, use it in noting down in our own words 
 an accurate analysis of the whole. What is really useful will 
 thus be treasured up, what is worthless had better be win- 
 nowed away. There are some people, whose memory seems 
 to be rather a misfortune than a benefit, from continually dis- 
 tracting their attention by the crowd of irrelevant ideas it sug- 
 gests. There are others, who are certainly very tiresome to 
 their hearers or readers, by the useless particularity with which 
 they stretch out a narrative or disquisition, when a few words 
 would suffice to state all that is important. Hence conciseness 
 is always an attribute of a close thinker ; not an indication of 
 a want of memory, but of its discreet and economical use. 
 " Semper instans sibi," is the phrase, by which Quintilian 
 characterizes the pregnant bi'evity of Thucydides. 
 
 Genius must be cultivated hy exercise. The mind is like 
 the body. Nothing impairs its strength so much as idleness, 
 nothing increases it so much as well directed labor. The 
 muscles of the blacksmith's arm swells out with vigor, when 
 those of the man of ease are scarcely visible, though original- 
 ly he may have been possessed of much greater natural 
 strength ; and we are in the same way often surprised to see 
 the zealous, earnest student leave far behind him, even in men- 
 tal power, the idle genius, who once laughed at his snail-like 
 progress. To be successful, we should never be idle. Not 
 content with mere reading, or aimless reveries and imagina- 
 tions, but employing the knowledge we have gained, and ap- 
 
22 GENIUS. 
 
 plying the rules we have learned to some useful end. Not 
 content to do anything superficially or carelessly, but contin- 
 ually striving to avoid defects and aspiring after new excellen- 
 cies. Not content with any degree of attainment or success, 
 but regarding the past as only preparation for the future. No 
 man can conceive what is capable of accomplishing by an ar- 
 dent perseverance. The Roman Legionary, born under the 
 most luxurious clime, learned by exercise to bear without fa- 
 tigue a weight of armor which would crush the strongest 
 modem to the earth, and to contend alike successfully with the 
 barbarian of the north amidst his icy mountains, and the agile 
 rover of the burning desert. The intellectual conqueror need 
 never weep, like him of Macedon, that there remains no more 
 to prove his prowess. The higher he ascends, the more ar- 
 duous appear the heights yet to be attained. To the gene- 
 rous spirit, rest is itself a weariness. The young man, who 
 covets it, or even procrastinates his efforts until he has attained 
 more strength, will make a feeble and useless old age. The 
 moment we repose, we abandon success. The maxim is just, 
 
 " Dulce est desipere in loco ;" 
 
 but it should be interpreted with caution, especially by the 
 young. The mind, it is true, cannot sustain without occasion- 
 al relief severe intellectual exertion ; but even our amuse- 
 ments may be made profitable. We may turn from the sever- 
 er volume to one that refines, without taxing, the wearied fac- 
 ulties. "We may wander forth and enjoy the loveliness of na- 
 ture, or the communion of friends, without laying aside the 
 character of intellectual being. Even a change of study is 
 
GENIUS. 2S 
 
 sometimes sufficient. The table talk of Luther has been con- 
 sidered worthy of record, and Sir Humphrey Davy mused 
 not unprofitably with his fishing rod in hand. Away then 
 with idleness in all its forms. It is the rust of the soul, which 
 requires more labor to remove, than we avoided by dissipa- 
 tion, and we lose time besides. 
 
 We are now prepared to consider — Some common mis- 
 takes CONCERNING GeNIUS. 
 
 No man is to suppose himself destitvie of Genius, because its 
 ejects do not immediately appear. Genius, in its higher 
 forms, belongs, it is admitted, to few. Some men, indeed, 
 cannot properly be said to possess it at all. Yet there is not 
 one of us without some capacity for usefulness ; and observa- 
 tion would lead us to believe, that even the gifts of Genius 
 have not been bestowed by such a sparing hand as is com- 
 monly believed. The fact, that in certain ages many men of 
 Genius arise to high distinction, and that in others not one 
 appears, seems to prove, that certain stimulants to exertion 
 have been wanting in the last, which were felt in the former. 
 Genius, of a very high character, needs no foreign excite- 
 ment. It has sufficient impulsive force in itself; but when 
 the plant is more feeble, it needs fostering and cai'e. The 
 success of one great mind will induce others, less daring, to 
 follow in its track. The assurance of sympathy, which is 
 thus given, is a strong encouragement to effort. So, rarely 
 has a new star shone out in the firmament of mind, but many 
 smaller lights have twinkled forth to form a constellation. 
 Precocity of talent is not necessarily Genius. It is sometimes 
 nothing better than a vice of the mental being in overshooting 
 
24 GENIUS. 
 
 its proper growth, and prematurely exhausting its powers. 
 Not a few instances will occur to you of men, and those, too, 
 the most distinguished, who have passed many years of their 
 lives, before they became conscious of their powers, or the 
 proper method of directing them. " The Lay of the Last 
 Minstrel" did not appear until its author had attained the 
 meridian of life, and Waverly not till many years after- 
 wards. It is true, that Scott could not have been utterly un- 
 conscious of his genius, even in early manhood ; yet, doubt- 
 less, he would have smiled incredulously at one who would 
 have prognosticated his future triumphs ; and it is easy to see, 
 that but for the preparation of his youth, those triumphs 
 would never have been his. The earlier efforts of Byron 
 were really beneath criticism ; but the severe chastisement he 
 received, only stimulated him to greater exertions, and he 
 lived to reach the height of fame. No success can be ex- 
 pected without exertion, and no one knows what he can do, 
 until he has resolutely and perseveringly applied himself to 
 the struggle. Even if we have but one talent, there is no 
 reason why that should be buried in the earth. The praise 
 of success is greater, where the natural ability is small ; and 
 it is immeasurably better to be moderately useful than inglori- 
 ously idle. 
 
 There is another error yet more mischievous. It is that of 
 supposing Genius sufficient of itself, without the aid of study. 
 It is the fault of a strong imagination, when not sufficiently 
 regulated by judgment, to be impatient of delay or control. 
 Persons thus constituted, dazzled with the brilliancy of their 
 conceptions, despise the sobriety of rule. Conscious of power, 
 but ignorant of difficulties, they determine upon rapid achieve- 
 
GENIUS. 2^ 
 
 ment, and unshared victories. The melancholy end of many 
 a Chatterton, proves how bitter is their disappointment. The 
 maniac's cell, or the wretched garret, has hidden from the 
 world many a light, which, properly trimmed and fed, might 
 have burned long and brightly. Many instances, already 
 quoted, proved, that the most successful men of Genius have 
 been ordinarily the most profound students. "We ought to be 
 more surprised at the amount of information Shakspeare was 
 enabled to attain, under the disadvantages he suffered, than at 
 what he accomplished with the information he had. If we 
 knew nothing more of him, than that he was the author of 
 " Julius Csesar," we would say, that he was versed beyond a 
 parallel in the history of that period. No one could have 
 sketched, with more striking fidelity, the cunning Anthony, 
 the impetuous Brutus, the infatuated Cassar, or the versatile 
 Roman mob. It is a shame to abandon the cultivation of a 
 soil, because it is rich. The luxuriance of its natural fertility, 
 is only the promise of what it might yield to careful hus- 
 bandry. "We are accountable, not merely for the ten talents 
 God may have given, but for the increase they might have 
 made at proper usury. If Sir Isaac Newton compared the 
 labors of his miraculous life, to a child gathering shells on the 
 shore, while the wide ocean of truth lay undiscovered before 
 him, can any among us be justly satisfied with less attain- 
 ment ? Be independent of study, child of Genius, if you 
 will, but rail not at the world, for despising that which cost 
 you no pains. You are your own destroyer. "Men will 
 praise you when you do well for yourself." 
 
 Much sensibility is also wasted upon the false supposition, 
 3 
 
26 GENIUS. 
 
 that Genius is necessarily unfortunate. It is true, that the 
 calamities of men of Genius have been proverbial, and vol- 
 umes have been filled with their recital. But the calamities 
 of men of Genius are not necessarily the calamities of Ge- 
 nius. Many of them, with the same faults of character, would 
 have been equally sufferers, had they possessed no Genius at 
 all. It was their Genius which gave notoriety to their suffer- 
 ings. The gifts of Providence are more equally distributed 
 than we are accustomed to believe, and great intellectual en- 
 dowments are not often accompanied by the measure of 
 worldly fortune, which falls to the lot of those whose humbler 
 faculties aspire not above the pursuit of gain. It is well for 
 the world it is so, for nothing is more fatal to mental ambition, 
 than luxurious ease. The annals of Genius should convince 
 us, that it has oftener been repressed by prosperity than ad- 
 versity. Examples of men born to wealth and rank, who 
 have attained high intellectual eminence, are as rare, as the 
 number of those who have risen from obscurity is great. 
 While circumstances seduce the one class to indolence, they 
 compel the other to personal exertion. It requires great ef- 
 fort to raise one's self to distinction, unassisted by friends, and 
 embai-rassed by poverty. 
 
 " Haud facile emergunt, quorum vixtutibus obstat 
 Bes angusta domi." 
 
 But it requii-es greater still, to leave the haunt of fashion- 
 able pleasure, and the circle of flattering friends, to pursue, 
 in solitary labor, those difficult paths which alone lead to use- 
 ful renown. Vice is always its own avenger, and no Genius 
 can exempt the transgressor from its penalties. Savage, Ot- 
 
GENIUS. 27 
 
 way, Burns, and many others, owed their ruin to their un- 
 licensed follies, not to their Genius. When such minds leave 
 their high pursuits to company with the votaries of dissipa- 
 tion, they can expect no better fate. If we consider the 
 miserable venality of his pen, we would cease to think the 
 misfortunes of Chatterton as less deserved than those of Dr. 
 Dodd. We make no excuse for the world, which is too apt 
 to neglect the children of Genius, that it may flatter those of 
 power. The early graves of Collins and Kirke White, are 
 monuments of its coldness and cruelty. Yet it is human na- 
 ture to prefer our own interests ; and not unfrequently the 
 offerings which Genius lays at its feet, are merely beautiful 
 but useless garlands. Even the plough of Burns turned down 
 " the mountain daisy," to make place for the more home- 
 ly but more useful grain. Besides, it may well be doubt- 
 ed, whether what are frequently called the calamities of Ge- 
 nius, are indeed calamities. If to receive the applause of 
 the vociferous mob, to sit in the parasite's chair at the table of 
 the great, to place the name of some wealthy dunce at the 
 head of a dedication, to accumulate mere money that it may 
 be spent upon self-indulgence, or to struggle successfully with 
 the demagogue and the gladiator in the political arena, be the 
 chief goods of life, there are many paths to their attainment 
 more easy and certain than those which Genius loves, and 
 ought to tread. But if the consciousness of lofty thought, 
 fellowship with the mighty spirits of the past, the dignity of 
 noble aims, the applause of the few, but those the truly great, 
 the admiration of posterity, and the benediction of Him who 
 was himself " despised and rejected of men," be worth all the 
 
28 GENIUS. 
 
 meaner world can give or take away, then lias well-directed 
 Genius no cause to complain. Wlio estimates the wealth of 
 Milton by the five pounds he received for Paradise Lost ? 
 Who would not rather have been Galileo, than the priestly 
 bigots that murdered him ? Even if it be admitted, as it 
 should be, " that the gifts of imagination bring the heaviest 
 task on the vigilance of reason ;"* yet there is the greater 
 reason why we should cultivate the judgment, that we may be 
 preserved from those irregularities which expose the man of 
 Genius to calamity, and not abandon its elevated pursuits, 
 from an unworthy dread of danger. Whatever may have 
 been the case in the past, true Genius was never more ap- 
 plauded, or better rewarded, than in the present day. Dis-* 
 miss, therefore, these mawkish lamentations over the unfor- 
 tunate fate of Genius, and press forward to share its immortal 
 honors. 
 
 Another error into which we are apt to fall, is that Genius 
 requires peculiar advantages for its cultivation and develop- 
 ment. Many a young man enters upon life with glowing 
 hopes of intellectual distinction and determination never to 
 cease his efforts ; but, finding the necessity of attending closely 
 to the business of life, and being continually harassed and 
 vexed by unavoidable interruptions, soon, though reluctantly, 
 abandons his aspirations as idle dreams of his youth, the real- 
 ity of which is reserved for those of happier circumstances. 
 This is injustice to ourselves. We have already alluded to 
 the many who have risen to fame from the midst of far 
 greater difficulties than can possibly surround any of those 
 
 *Langliorn's Life of Collins. 
 
GENIUS. 29 
 
 now before me. If ^sop was a slave, Ferguson a shepliercl's 
 boy, Franklin a friendless apprentice, Heyne the half-starved 
 son of a poor weaver, and Adrian YI. once so poor as to 
 study only by the lamps of the streets, when the daylight had 
 closed upon his labor, no difficulties can be so great but a de- 
 termined industry may overcome them. Men of leisure are 
 rarely great. But the ingenious Drew produced his treatise 
 upon the Immortality of the Soul, when a working shoe- 
 maker, and that clear ethical writer of our day, Abercrombie, 
 is a physician of the largest practice in Edinburgh, and must 
 turn to his metaphysical pursuits after the most fatiguing ef- 
 forts in those entirely diflferent. It is folly to speak of " the 
 past being the age of thought but this the age of action," as if 
 the two were incompatible. I have yet to learn, that Calvin 
 was an inactive person, though I may look at his nine huge 
 folios filled with copious thought and profound criticism. Lu- 
 ther, too, was no sluggard in action, yet his volumes are far 
 from being few in number, or deficient in research, and even 
 in music, which was but his amusement, you may find the 
 Greek modes, the most difficult of all. Roscoe found time in 
 the midst of commercial engagements for his lives of the two 
 Medici, and the author of the Pleasures of Memory is still a 
 banker. The age of action not the age of thought ! It is a 
 disgrace and not our glory. It is the excuse of indolence, or 
 the boast of presumption. 
 
 There is a common error, which supposes Genius to he ne- 
 cessarily eccentric ; but eccentricity, especially when it be- 
 comes ofiensive to decorum, is a blemish in social character 
 no powers of mind can excuse or palliate ; and surely, if time 
 3* 
 
30 GENIUS. 
 
 permitted, it woidd be an insult to those who have listened 
 to me so kindly, to trouble them with proof, that a man of 
 Genius may be a gentleman, or that a disregard for the com- 
 fort or feelings of others is any proof of talent. 
 
 I wiU therefore pass on briefly to consider the last branch 
 of the subject we proposed, The peculiar advantages 
 
 FOR the exercise OF GeNIUS IN OUR OWN COUNTRY. 
 
 Well may we thank God, that our lot is cast in so goodly 
 a land, and I do not envy that man, who can return to this 
 his native land from wandering abroad, without fresh admira- 
 tion of the principles of our government and the character of 
 our people. But for nothing have we more reason to be 
 thankful than the opportunities wliich Genius has here to 
 spread her unfettered wing for her noblest flights. I speak 
 not now of the physical features of our country, the majesty 
 of its rivers, the graceful outline of its mountains, the thunder 
 of its cataracts, the clear crystal of its thousand lakes, the 
 depth of its forest shade, the gorgeous richness of its autumnal 
 hues, or the dreamy voluptuousness of its Indian summer's 
 days. If ever nature taught inspiration. Genius may find it 
 here. 
 
 But the freedom of our institutions and its effect upon the 
 powers of the soul, may well occupy our thoughts for a mo- 
 ment. The land of hberty is the land of Genius. Slavery 
 has a more degrading influence upon the mind than the body. 
 Despotic power and aristocratic wealth may seek to pamper 
 their pride by the patronage of men of talent, but the natural 
 efiFect of such patronage is to depress rather than exalt. The 
 will of the patron must be consulted, and his reward secured 
 
GE^^T^s. 31 
 
 by an easy venality. Genius can obey only the dictates of ita 
 own iasprration. Its song may be sweet as that of the impris- 
 oned bird, but it is in the free air and open sunshine the rich- 
 ness of its glad notes are heard. The restraint of censorship 
 over the press, backed by the terrors of punishment, or the 
 more dangerous allurements of reward, crushes the spirit of 
 inquiry and limits the expansion of thought. Discovery be- 
 comes a crime, and doubt of established error, treason. Creeds 
 are dictated by the bayonet ; and honest truth is branded as 
 a disturber of the peace. The question is no longer, how we 
 may promote the good of the whole people, but how existing 
 abuses may be screened or vindicated. Religion herself is 
 made the instrument of cunning power, and the terrors of Al- 
 mighty vengeance against sin perverted to sanctions of un- 
 holy edicts. The same iron rule, which crushed the astrono- 
 mer who would not map the heavens at its dictation, would 
 bind hand and foot and cast into heU the daring challenger for 
 the rights of man. From generation to generation the work 
 goes on, until the suffering parent teaches his child submission 
 to secure him peace, and reason forgets to doubt that its ills 
 are not from necessity. 
 
 How different is the lot of Genius here ? Our Others, edu- 
 cated to hardy independence by the difficulties of the forest, 
 and far removed from the illusive glare which the splendors 
 of aristocratic institutions fling around them ; discovering, by 
 the virtues and intelligence of their compatriots that nobleness 
 of soul depended upon no accident of birth; and drinking 
 deep of that truth which flows from the throne of Him whose 
 service is perfect freedom, established their claim to the rights 
 
da GENIUS. 
 
 of men, and founded our government upon the only true ba- 
 sis, the good of the whole people as determined by the people 
 themselves. Their children have inherited the lustre of their 
 example. The investigation of right and truth they continue 
 as their privilege and safeguard. Precedent, however hoary 
 from antiquity, has no authority except what it derives from 
 truth. Novelty, however startling, is not rejected without 
 due investigation of its claims to belief. Every artificial bar- 
 rier to the rise of merit is broken down. The author appeals 
 to the conscience and intelligence of the people, and real merit 
 seldom fails of reward. Difficulties common to our nature 
 must exist, but never were the paths to distinction so open as 
 here. The influence of this freedom upon every department 
 of mind, I need not stay to prove. He, who has once breathed 
 the air of liberty, will brook no unwarranted restraint. The 
 tyranny of false criticism, and the despotism of prejudice, 
 must fall, when the unshackled search is for truth, and Ge- 
 nius will exult in her own originality. 
 
 It is true, that literature now only begins to flourish among 
 us. Men struggling for their rights, have little leisure for its 
 retired studies. The solution of the new problems, which our 
 new system of government are continually unfolding, have 
 engrossed the attention of our abler minds. The works of 
 the sculptor and the painter are of comparatively little inter- 
 est to those, who are modelling the living statue of moral ex- 
 cellence, or subduing the forest, that they may reap rich har- 
 vests from the virgin soil. Able commentaries upon the prin- 
 ciples of law, profound discoveries in science, unequalled skill 
 in the application of mechanics, and constant improvement in 
 
GENIUS. 33 
 
 all the useful arts, prove that mind has felt the impulse, and 
 has been moving rapidly in the best directions. Already, too, 
 have we heard sweet touches from the poet's lyre, like the 
 rich symphonies which precede the burst of song ; and every 
 heart has thrilled at the sound, because we knew the hand of 
 free-born Genius swept the chords. It is not true, that Ameri- 
 can Genius is despised at home. There has been, happily, 
 too much taste to mistake the unsteady efforts of undisci- 
 plined and unfurnished striplings for classic purity and manly 
 power ; yet every worthy attempt has been well rewarded. 
 The very pride we feel in everything that advances our coun- 
 try's glory, has led rather to over-praise than discouragement ; 
 and many living instances might be brought, if decorum per- 
 mitted, to show that nowhere is fame so readily acquired as 
 with us. It only depends upon the young men of our land to 
 sti'engthen their powers by severe discipline, and to bathe 
 their spirits in the clear springs of classic lore, before they de- 
 mand the rewards of Genius ; and those rewards are theirs. 
 The fame that is gained without such arduous, though it 
 should be pleasing, toil, will be as fleeting as it is cheap. 
 
 Gentlemen, I have done. It would be ungrateful to tres- 
 pass longer upon such kind attention. Happy wiU I be, to 
 have won your approbation ; happier still, if I have contribu- 
 ted to excite new attention to our noble theme, to secure a 
 choice of u eful aims, to awaken a greater zeal in their pur- 
 suit, to chase away despondent fears, to repress unwarranted 
 hopes, or heighten the glow of patriotic gratitude for the un- 
 equalled privileges of our beloved land ; but truly blessed, 
 
34 GENIUS. 
 
 could I persuade you, by a parting counsel, to sit, with all 
 your learning, at the feet of that meek and lowly Teacher, 
 whose Gospel revealed, and whose example marked, in " a 
 patient continuance of well-doing," the only true path " to 
 glory, and honor, and immortality." 
 
TRUE GLORY. 
 
 1 S E E M N 
 
 PEEACHED BEFORE THE 
 
 THIRD REFORMED DUTCH CHURCH OF PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 February 3d, 1839, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 OCCASION OF THE DEATH 
 
 OP 
 
 STEPHEN VAN RENSSELAER. 
 
 (PDBUSHED BY REQUEST.) 
 
SERMON. 
 
 JEREMIAH 9: 23, 24. 
 Thus saith the lord, let not the wise man gloet in his 
 
 WISDOM, neither LET THE MIGHTT MAN GLORY IN HIS MIGHT ; 
 LET NOT THE RICH MAN GLORY IN HIS RICHES ; BUT LET HIM 
 THAT GLORIETH, GLORY IN THIS, THAT HE UNDERSTANDETH AND 
 KNOWETH ME, THAT I AM THE LORD, WHICH EXERCISE LOVING- 
 KINDNESS, JUDGMENT AND RIGHTEOUSNESS IN THE EARTH j FOR 
 IN THESE THINGS I DELIGHT, SAITH THE LORD. 
 
 " There hath," saith the apostle Paul to the Corinthians, 
 (1st, 10: 13,) "no temptation taken you, but such as is com- 
 mon to man ; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to 
 be tempted above that ye are able ; but with the temptation 
 will also make a way of escape, that ye may be able to bear 
 it." Such is the language of the Holy Ghost to all God's 
 people, assuring them, that their safety or danger lies not in 
 the external circumstances of their earthly lot, but in their 
 faithful use, or presumptuous neglect of God's sufficient and 
 abounding grace. Every condition of life has its perils and 
 its advantages ; and the office of religion is, not to change that 
 in which Providence hath placed us, but to strengthen and 
 sanctify our hearts, that we may resist the temptations, and 
 improve the opportunities of blessing, presented to us. God, 
 4 
 
88 TRUE GLORY. 
 
 through his wise and parental care of his children, may cause 
 them to be placed in situations of greater or less trial and dif- 
 ficulty, that he may chasten them from peculiar -weaknesses 
 of temper, or call forth to useful exercise peculiar qualities 
 for his service ; yet this consideration should convince us the 
 more fully, that in "whatever state we are, therewith we 
 should be content," and not murmur because our temptations 
 seem to be greater, and our opportunities of serving him less, 
 than those of others. The only Christian way to amend our 
 lot, is by amending our heart ; for with an evil heart any lot 
 would bring evil, and a pious heart can make any lot good. 
 It is impossible to escape temptation, but the faithful soul will 
 find temptations to be his friends, in supplying opportunities 
 of higher virtue to himself, greater good to the world, and 
 more manifest glory to his God. 
 
 " Blessed is the man, that endureth temptation ; for when 
 he is tried he shaU receive the crown of life, which the Lord 
 hath promised to those that love him. Let no man say, when 
 he is tempted, I am tempted of God ; for God cannot be 
 tempted of evil ; neither tempteth he any man ; but every 
 man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust and 
 enticed."* It is, therefore, the glory of the Christian, and a 
 blessed proof of his divine renewal from the weakness of hu- 
 manity, when he stands firm amidst shocks or seductions to 
 which other men would yield ; and the dishonored soul can 
 impute his failure and disgrace only to his own sinful weak- 
 ness, cowardice, and folly. 
 
 Thus, in the text we find neither censure nor praise of men, 
 
 * James 1: 12, 13, 14. 
 
TRUE GLORY. 39 
 
 who are distinguished for their wisdom, their power, or their 
 riches, because of those accidents to their lot ; but only cen- 
 sure of those who make their boast and dependence upon 
 them ; and praise of him, who, in the midst of them all, finds 
 his happiness and honor in the knowledge, trust, and service 
 of his Lord. 
 
 " Let him that glorieth, glory in this, that he understandeth 
 and knoweth me, that I am the Lord, which exercise loving- 
 kindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth; for in 
 these things I delight, saith the Lord." 
 
 I. The holy text takes it for granted, that 
 
 Evert man has some quality, advantage, or pos- 
 session UPON WHICH he congratulates HIMSELF, AND 
 FROM WHICH HE EXPECTS TO DERIVE HONOR, SAFETY, 
 OR HAPPINESS. 
 
 " There is," says one, " a little world in every man's bosom ;" 
 and another, who seems to have been acquainted with the 
 metaphysics of the affections, (Mrs. Hemans,) compares the 
 soul to a universe. The world may resound with the fame 
 of some extensive conqueror, or the more peaceful, but not 
 less mighty exploits of some far-reaching statesman ; yet the 
 heart of the meanest soldier in that general's army, or the 
 most insignificant drudge who is " chained to the desk's dead 
 wood," in that statesman's bureau, is conscious of hopes and 
 fears, aims and difficulties, of which the world knows nothing, 
 but which are more than all the world beside to him. There 
 is not one of us, however we may be whirled about by the 
 eddies of life caused by the movements of greater men, or are 
 lost to the public eye, who can so lose his distinct conscious- 
 
4U TKUE GLORY. 
 
 ness, as to retain nothing in his mind and heart, which he 
 values not as his own. Little as we think of it, while we pur- 
 sue our several ways in pursuit of objects which to us are 
 paramount of all others, there is not one of the crowd of pas- 
 sengers that we meet, whose happiness is not as important to 
 himself, as our own is to us ; and every dwelling of the vast 
 city, contains hearts worn with cares, and panting with hopes 
 as engrossing as those to which we would make all things 
 tributary. The child, that prattles in the evening, on his 
 father's knee, of the day's tiny exploits; the laborer, who 
 counts his slender pittance, and meditates the morrow's wants 
 and wages ; or the mother of the poor man's children, busy 
 and weary with the troubles and trials of her narrow house- 
 hold, feels each an interest and importance, perchance as 
 great as the warrior, crowned by a nation's hand with immor- 
 tal laurels ; the giant financier, who can make or break a na- 
 tion at his will ; or the supreme magistrate, who seems to 
 wield a nation's destinies. Our circumstances may be various, 
 but " as in water face answereth to face, so answereth the 
 heart of man to man ;" and that heart, common to all human- 
 ity, must have something to love, to desire, and to depend 
 upon ; and that which holds the paramount place in the heart 
 of any man, is his glory, in the sense of the text. 
 
 But it will readily be acknowledged, that to the eye of God, 
 those distinctions upon which men pride themselves, must 
 seem as nothing. Wisdom, might, and riches, may appear 
 great by the comparisons which our insect vision can make ; 
 but, when brought in contrast with the divine wisdom, the 
 highest reach of human science must be as ignorance ; with 
 
TRUE GLORY. 41 
 
 the divine power, the utmost stretch of human influence, as 
 weakness ; with the divine riches, the wealthiest of earth's 
 sons as the poorest. " Behold," saith the prophet, " the na- 
 tions are counted as the small dust of the balance ; behold, He 
 taketh up the isles as a very little thing." 
 
 It is, therefore, not only to those distinguished far above 
 their fellows for wisdom, and power, and riches, that the voice 
 of God here speaks ; but to all, exhorting each of us, my 
 hearers, that we should glory in the understanding and knowl- 
 edge of the Lord who " exerciseth loving kindness, judgment 
 and righteousness in the earth ;" and place our dependence 
 upon his care, deriving our happiness from his word alone. 
 It was in obedience to such teaching, that the apostle learned 
 to say : " God forbid, that I should glory, save in the cross of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto 
 me, and I unto the world!" And again: "Yea, doubtless, 
 and I count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowl- 
 edge of Christ Jesus my Lord." 
 
 II. The text specifies three thikgs, which men are 
 
 ESPECIALLY APT TO GLORY IN, TO THE NEGLECT AND DIS- 
 HONOR OF God ; WISDOM, power, and riches. 
 
 Wisdom is named first, as naturally the strongest. For, 
 considering wisdom here to mean a man's reason and acquired 
 opinions, there is nothing, the pride of which he will give up 
 more reluctantly. It was shame of ignorance, though inno- 
 cent, and a desire of knowledge, though forbidden, that be- 
 trayed our first parents to sin ; and, notwithstanding the ex- 
 press declaration of their divine Creator and Friend, that ruin 
 would be the consequence of their transgression, they set up 
 4* 
 
42 TKUE GLORY. 
 
 their opinion in opposition to his ; and, yielding to the advice 
 of the tempter, because it flattered their undue wishes, they 
 perilled the happiness of a world upon their judgment, and 
 lost it. 
 
 It is notoriously true of men, that they would rather be sus- 
 pected of knavery than called fools. It is long before we 
 learn, by bitter experience, to credit the advice of our elders, 
 who bid us to avoid the plausible but the deceptive, and pur- 
 sue the difficult, but the true, paths of worldly comfort and 
 prosperity. "We have daily instances of men, so demented 
 with their own folly, that they run zealously on in pursuit of 
 ends, which, all the world, but themselves, see can never be 
 attained- Upon no other principle than this proud confidence 
 of men in their own reasons, which makes them unwilling to 
 confess themselves wrong, or acknowledge the superior pru- 
 dence of others, can we account for the vast variety of con- 
 flicting opinions about matters, which a candid and unbiassed 
 judgment might settle at once. How seldom it is, that the 
 most elaborate controversy has any other effect upon the minds 
 of the disputants, but to make them more obstinate in holding 
 to their original convictions ! Yet the listener to the argu- 
 ment may see that one, perhaps both, must be in the wrong. 
 Indeed, it is accounted the highest proof of a noble mind, that 
 it can be persuaded contrary to its previous judgment ; and 
 none but he, who has gone deep into science, has made the 
 discovery, that " he knoweth nothing as he ought to know." 
 For this reason, our Saviour has declared that the first lesson 
 in the school of the Holy Ghost is, to " become as little chil- 
 dren," laying aside all prejudice, and preconceived notions of 
 
TRUE GLORY. 43 
 
 what religion ougTit to be, that we may receive " the wisdom 
 from above pure" and unadulterated into honest hearts ; and 
 the apostle asserts, that not many " wise" are called to the 
 rich rewards of faith. 
 
 It is a lamentable and criminal folly, which encourages a 
 man to suppose that he can learn nothing from the judgment 
 and experience of his fellow men, and that he is an infal- 
 lible pronouncer of the truth where others doubt ; and which 
 uses any meanness of sophistry, (for there is nothing so mean 
 as pride,) and perversion of fact, to avoid a defeat, or gain a 
 victory in argument, at the expense of the truth. But it be- 
 comes a profane rebellion against the supremacy of the di- 
 vine Mind, when we refuse to receive the truth of the divine 
 teachings, because we cannot comprehend all things in our 
 puny grasp, and heap Pelion upon Ossa, that we may scale 
 the heavens to seat our reason upon the throne of the Al- 
 mighty. It is a most desperate pride, that has pleasure when 
 opposing truths given as guides toward heaven, and exults in 
 a doubt, which is the foreshadowing of damnation. The 
 knowledge of God's creatures, as unfolded to us by the re- 
 searches of science, may indeed be valuable, but the study of 
 nature comes to a miserable end, when it leads us from 
 the worship and trust of nature's God. If we think for a 
 moment of the many contingencies against which no human 
 foresight can provide, and that all events and consequences 
 are the results of the Divine will, we should at once see, 
 that there is no safety in any knowledge but the knowledge of 
 God's favor, and the assurance of his love. 
 
 Pride o^ power is another common vice of the human heart. 
 
M TRUE GLORY. 
 
 It is commonly said, that no man is free from the lust of 
 ambition, though it may show itself differently in different per- 
 sons ; and hence we are accustomed to consider it a proof of 
 greatness, when men are able to sway the services or wills of 
 many. The excitement of childish sports, of the chase, of 
 horsemanship, varies not in its essential qualities from the ex- 
 citement which urges on the politician after oflSce and rule. 
 The mind of one man may fit him for the contest upon a 
 larger scale ; but every other is struggling, with perhaps equal 
 earnestness, in his little circle. The insatiate conqueror, who 
 ascended to imperial power by trampling upon his country's 
 liberty, spoke not for himself, but for human nature, when he 
 said : " it were better to be first in a village, than second at 
 Ex)me ;" and the lowest sycophant at the footstool of power, 
 fawns at his master's feet, that he may win the right of looking 
 down with assumption upon some yet more abject slave. How 
 delirious this pride is, we see in 
 
 " the fantastic tricks of brief authority ■" 
 
 And the praise we award to those who can bear the giddy el- 
 evation of human power with a calm brain, and an unchanged 
 heart, proves how high a virtue we consider theirs to be. 
 
 But what pinnacle of fame is there so high, that God may 
 not cast us down from it into as remarkable a ruin ? What 
 occasion is there for boast, when He who rules the tides of 
 ocean, and reins the storms of heaven, and guides the planets 
 along their orbits, holds us in his grasp ? At his word, the 
 sceptre falls from the monarch's nerveless hand ; the pesti- 
 lence sweeps armies to the dust, and the sea whelms navies 
 
TRUE GLORr. 45 
 
 by its foaming spray. Yet, if He be our friend, and his ever- 
 lasting arms be around our souls, how safe, how superior to 
 every chance, are we ? Well may he glory, " who glorieth 
 in the Lord !" 
 
 " Let not the rich man glory in his riches" 
 
 If the pride of wisdom be the most natural, and the pride 
 of power the most intoxicating, the pride of wealth has come 
 to be the most general ; perhaps, from the reason that the ac- 
 cumulation of wealth is thought to be a proof of talents, and 
 can pay the price of power. As it is, the Scriptures are em- 
 phatic in warning us against the deceitfulness of riches, and 
 the many temptations which riches bx'ing with them. " How 
 hardly," saith the Saviour, " can a rich man enter into the 
 kingdom of God ? It is easier for a camel to go through the 
 eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the king- 
 dom of God. . . . "With men, it is impossible ; but with God, 
 all things are possible." 
 
 Riches are dangerous in their pursuit. What falsehoods, 
 veiled, I know, in allowed phrases, yet not the less falsehoods, 
 daily pass between buyer and seller ? What tricks and base 
 contrivances abound, daily, on every hand, that one man may 
 reap profit at another's expense .'' What artificial means are 
 conjured up, that credit may be inflated beyond its honest 
 proportions, each one lending himself to the general fraud, 
 from the hope of reaping personal gain? What care in 
 the drafting of deeds, what nicety in the statement of con- 
 tracts, to keep honorable men from defrauding honorable 
 men ? A few pages of your statute books are sufiicient to 
 prescribe the pains and penalties of murder, and outrage. 
 
46 TRUE GLORT. 
 
 and theft, and forgery, and incendiarism ; but what libraries 
 of law, to settle questions which the cupidity and grasping 
 dishonesty of those, who shrink from vulgar roguery, sug- 
 gest ? Imperial Rome, in the worst days of her vice, had 
 more voluptuous and beastly excesses ; but never, do I be- 
 lieve, could she have exhibited such cold-blooded craft, and 
 guile, and grinding cruelty, as would be revealed, if the 
 mysteries of modem iniquity were laid bare to the sight 
 
 As they are dangerous in pursuit, so are they dangerous in 
 possession. The facilities of luxurious gratification, the means 
 of veiling secret profligacy, the pride of empty display, flat- 
 tered by the arts of the parasite, the removal of any sense of 
 immediate dependence upon the providence of God in honest 
 toil, the fondness they engender for a world, where the heart 
 has so much to cling to, all unfit the rich man, if he be not 
 sustained by unusual grace, for the service of God upon earth, 
 and the securing of his eternal safety. 
 
 Never, perhaps, did the lust of gold rule the world more 
 despotically, or were the hearts of men in greater danger 
 from it than now. The lance of the warrior, and the might 
 of the statesman, are aU in bondage to the banker's pen. A 
 few Jewish money-changers now decide the destinies of Eu- 
 rope, and in our own land, where the harvests of freedom 
 were sown by the frugal hands of our simple ancestors, the 
 prosperity of our nation is estimated by dollars and cents. It 
 is not the vice of one party or another, but of the nation, and 
 of the world. Everything is reduced to the mean scale of a 
 low utilitarianism ; and all our busiest inquiries are complica- 
 tions of the craving question : " What shall we eat, what shall 
 
TRUE GLORY. 47 
 
 we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed ?" Some the- 
 orists may boast of this as the march of civilization, and point 
 exultingly to the white banner of peace planted by the hand 
 of a more cunning avarice. Advantage may redound from it, 
 I believe, but I question whether it were not better to live 
 free in the forest chase, than to be the slaves of sordid pelf; 
 or to die in the bloody battle, than to live a life in death, 
 bound up by the next moment's price. It matters little, if 
 gold be our idolatry, whether we mould it into the giant 
 statue, or stamp it into coin. 
 
 I speak not disparagingly of honest industry. Commerce 
 has been the nurse of freedom and religious toleration. The 
 first men who rose from the people to take hereditary power 
 by the throat, were those who had learned freedom from the 
 pure waves and free winds of that ocean which bore their 
 freighted barks. The necessity of labor is man's privilege, as 
 well as punishment ; and the sweat-drops on the brow of hon- 
 est toil, I hold more precious than the jewels of a ducal coro- 
 net. But I have the conscience of every hearer with me, in 
 saying that mere living is not the end of life. 
 
 Death will soon dissolve all our contracts, vitiate all our en- 
 gagements, and cancel all our bonds. Where then will be his 
 glory, who has gloried only in his riches ? In the eternal 
 world there is a true wealth, and an abiding treasure ; but he 
 alone will heir it, who " understandeth and knoweth me, saith 
 the Lord," and hath made my love and my favor his glory 
 and his gain. 
 
 III. Glorying in the Lord is not incompatible with the pos- 
 session of wisdom, power, or riches. 
 
48 TRUE GLORY. 
 
 The highest glory of man on earth, is to be the instrument 
 of God's "loving kindness, judgment and righteousness ;" and 
 none can be said " to know him" aright, or " understand" the 
 beauty of his character, who strives not to imitate his exer- 
 cise of those admirable attributes. 
 
 If, then, any degree of wisdom be ours, it is our high priv- 
 ilege to use it in the advancement of his glory, and the best 
 good of our fellow men ; and the more wisdom we possess the 
 greater is our faculty for that blessed end. 
 
 If we have any degree of power or social influence, (and 
 none of us without some,) it is our high privilege to use that 
 influence for the vindication of the Redeemer's name, and the 
 guidance of our fellow men on the way to glory ; and the 
 greater our influence, the more efficient our example and zeal 
 may be. 
 
 If we have any degree of riches, it is our privilege, by a 
 heavenly alchemy, to turn the dross that perisheth, into eter- 
 nal and incorruptible treasures, which shall fill the treasury of 
 God with the priceless jewels of ransomed souls ; and the 
 greater our riches, the greater means we have for doing good 
 in Christ's most holy name. 
 
 Certainly, earth hath no nobler spectacle (and it is one an- 
 gels leave heaven to contemplate,) than that of a good man, 
 preserving, amidst the temptations of wisdom, and power, and 
 riches, his humble trust in God his Saviour, as his highest 
 glory, and his delight in serving his fellow men, as his next 
 chiefest good. His is a wisdom the most ignorant must ven- 
 erate ; a power the most malicious must approve, and a 
 wealth, which envy itself would hardly dare to steal. 
 
TRUE GLORY. 49 
 
 This wisdom, and power, and riches, may be attained by us 
 all. For, though our learning may be poor, our influence 
 narrow, and our means small, he " that glorieth in knowing 
 and serving the Lord," hath done his duty, when he hath 
 done, through Divine grace, what he could. 
 
 Of such Christian excellence, a rare example has just been 
 completed, by the translation to heaven, of that venerable 
 man whose hands laid the comer-stone of this house of the 
 Lord ; and whose zeal, and prayers, and benefactions, have 
 long blessed that communion of saints to whose order it be- 
 longs. 
 
 It were a violation of Christian gratitude, an injustice to 
 the world, and a refusal to give glory to God, if the sad tidings 
 of the death of Stephen Van Eensselaer received no no- 
 tice from this pulpit. It is no sin to honor him when dead, 
 whom God honored so much when living. The memory of 
 his virtues is the precious legacy the grace of Christ has per- 
 mitted him to leave for the comfort of the church, which feels 
 in his loss, a vacuum no living man can fill ; and the glory of 
 their praise will redound to Him who sealed him in youth as 
 his own, and crowned his hoary head, white with the snows 
 of more than seventy winters, with the beauty of righteous- 
 ness. 
 
 I dare not pronounce his eulogium before you, who knew 
 him not ; for the simple truth would seem to you like extrav- 
 agant panegyric. But were I among those who met him in 
 5 
 
50 TRUE GLORY. 
 
 his daily walk ; observed his meek and gentle life ; saw his 
 high station, adorned by the most childlike simplicity ; and 
 knew, by the constant streams of benevolence which flowed 
 from it, that his heart was a fountain of love to God and man ; 
 my warmest words would seem cold, and my strongest testi- 
 monies faint to their sense of his character. Yet there is one 
 here,* who had the honored office of his pastor and friend, 
 for many years ; whose heart is bearing me witness, that if 
 ever man walked in the footsteps of the lowly Jesus, " going 
 about doing good," it was Stephen Van Rensselaer. 
 
 Born to a large patrimony, the increasing prosperity of the 
 country poured wealth upon him, until he became, with the 
 exception, perhaps, of one other, the richest man of the land ; 
 and wearing, by the common consent of all around him, the 
 only hereditary title known among us, he swayed an influence 
 wider than any other private citizen possessed. Cautious, 
 but not cold ; frank, but never rash ; without the qualities of 
 fervid genius, or depth of learning, he had a judgment singu- 
 larly clear and correct, a pure, common sense, which rarely 
 failed to guide him in duties which his conscience loved. 
 Surrounded by grateful dependents, and affectionate friends, 
 though there could not be wanting those who would have 
 preyed upon his abounding fortunes, he has gone to his grave 
 without an enemy. 
 
 The beauty of his wisdom was his guilelessness, the strength 
 of his power was his goodness, and the abundance of his 
 wealth his vast benevolence. 
 
 His greatness was like that of a noble tree, planted by the 
 
 * The Rev. Provost Ludlow. 
 
TRUE GLORY. 51 
 
 river of the water of life, spreading wide its sheltering arms 
 to overshadow all who needed refuge, which yielded peren- 
 nial fruits, and " whose leaf never faded." His bounty was 
 not the occasional and noisy gushes of ostentatious pride, but 
 silent, secret, and gentle as the dew, refreshing far and near, 
 yet with a kindly care for the lowliest herb of the field, heal- 
 ing but never wounding the heart it blessed ; while every 
 drop glistened in the light of the Sun of Righteousness, and 
 was exhaled to heaven. 
 
 Early called to take a part in the councils of his State, and 
 afterward of his country, his voice was never heard amidst the 
 stormy debate when men contending for personal fame forgot 
 their country ; but his steady vote was always recorded on 
 behalf of the whole people. He loved his country more than 
 himself. When war thundered on our coast and frontier, he 
 left the comforts of the sweetest home that ever enclosed a 
 loving family, and as a General of the highest grade, served 
 through the long campaign as patiently and steadily as the 
 lowest citizen in the ranks of that militia, which baffled and 
 beat back the veterans of many wars. 
 
 An elder in the church of his fathers, he seemed to count 
 it his best honor to serve the followers of Jesus ; and when a 
 member of ecclesiastical courts, as he frequently was, he never 
 shrank from any labor, nor became " weary in well doing." 
 It may safely be said, that the church he so much loved, ap- 
 proaching as it does, more nearly than any other, the order of 
 the apostolic age, became dearer, and yet dearer to his heart 
 as he drew near his end. 
 
 Yet sect could not confine the charity of his spirit. We 
 
52 TRUE GLORY. 
 
 dare not claim him as wholly our own. He belonged to 
 Christianity, to the world, because he belonged to God and 
 Christ ; and never was his aid sought in any cause of benevo- 
 lence, morals or piety, (and the applications were as constant 
 as the day, and numerous as its hours,) that his answer was 
 not that of " the cheerful giver," whom " the Lord loves." 
 
 But it was in his home that the Christian shone most ra- 
 diantly and sweetly, where his gentle spirit found delightful 
 fellowship with the innocence of children, and the quiet love- 
 liness of kindred affection. The guest, who crossed that 
 threshold, forgot he was a stranger, and though poor, amidst 
 all the apphances of uncounted wealth, felt only that he was 
 at home. Alas ! for the bereaved hearts within that dwelling 
 which knows him now no more ! God comfort them ! 
 
 Long suffering had chastened his spirit to an almost hea- 
 venly purity, and they, who " marked the perfect, and beheld 
 the upright," saw, that "the end of that man was peace." 
 In the midst of his affectionate children and near his devoted 
 wife, within the hall where the servant of God, and the friend 
 of man, ever found an unfeigned welcome, his venerable head 
 fell gently upon his bosom. He was asleep in Jesus. His 
 flesh shall rest in hope, but his spirit is now singing the song 
 in heaven he loved to sing on earth. He " rests from his la- 
 bors, and his works have followed him." 
 
 I cannot deny that the heart of the man has swelled the tide 
 of the preacher's sorrow for his loss, and joy for his redemption ; 
 but I need not ask you to pardon these expressions of honest 
 affection. I can never be called to speak of such another. 
 When shall we find another his equal ? When, again, will 
 
TKUE GLOET. 53 
 
 SO many good men weep for a brother ? I loved him as a 
 friend, a father, and a counsellor ; but aU who knew him, as 
 it was my privilege to know him, loved him with the same 
 affection. Yet chiefly should we all love and imitate him, as 
 one who, tempted and blessed above the ordinary lot of men, 
 " gloried not in wisdom, or power, or riches, but in this, that 
 he understood and knew the Lord, who exerciseth loving 
 kindness, and judgment, and righteousness in the earth ;" and 
 was of the number of those in whom the Lord, for Christ's 
 sake, hath great delight. 
 
 5* 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 DBLIYEBED BEFOBE THE 
 
 NEW YORK lERCANTlIE LIBRARY ASSOCIATION 
 
 MAECH, 1839. 
 
L E C T U U E. 
 
 The subject announced for discussion this evening, prom- 
 ises little novelty of thought or learned research, and may in 
 the judgment of some savor too strongly of the lecturer's pro- 
 fession. But it has been chosen in the belief, that an au- 
 dience, like the present, composed of persons distinguished 
 for zeal in the acquirement of sound knowledge, would pre- 
 fer practical, though familiar truths, to flights of fancy or pe- 
 dantic display ; and that they never would have invited one to 
 address them, who, without a name for science or general lite- 
 rature, could only have been known to them as a preacher 
 of morals, if they had wished him entirely to forget his office 
 in complying with their request. 
 
 Leisure strictly signifies unoccupied time. A man of lei- 
 sure is one who has nothing to do, a condition supposed to be 
 honorable in those countries where false forms of society make 
 the many the servants of the few ; but happily not in our 
 own, where the greatest good of the whole number is the glo- 
 rious aim of an intelligent democracy. Here, the laborer is 
 honorable, the idler infamous. We tolerate no drones in our 
 hive, and every one, who would share in its sweets, must con- 
 tribute to the general happiness. Indeed, a man among us 
 
58 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 must either be content to be busy, or content to be alone, Kke 
 the truant school boy, who found no one idle but himself, and 
 was glad to get back to school for the sake of company ; or, 
 like the solitary goose of Patrick O'Rooney,* be full of fun, 
 and nothing to play with. So may it ever be. The sweat- 
 drops on the brow of honest toil are more precious than the 
 jewels of a ducal coronet, and the pen of a ready writer, the 
 tools of the artisan, and the axe of the backwoodsman, are 
 weapons of a nobler chivalry than ever couched the lance or 
 wielded the sword. 
 
 In this nice sense of the term, we can have no leisure ; for 
 the truly virtuous and faithful will find occupation for every 
 moment. Living in a world of so many wants, and with an 
 immortality before us so full of reward, we can never lack an 
 opportunity of doing good to others and profiting ourselves. 
 But every man who pursues a regular calling, however close- 
 ly he may devote himself to business, will have certain inter- 
 vals of relief from his more pressing engagements. These 
 constitute that leisure of which I would speak. 
 
 During a recent visit to the United States mint, I observed 
 in the gold room, that a rack was placed over the floor for us 
 to tread upon ; and on inquiring its purpose, I was answered, 
 that it was to prevent the visitor from carrying away with the 
 dust of his feet the minute particles of precious metal, which, 
 despite of the utmost care, would fall upon the floor, when 
 the rougher edges of the bars were filed ; and that the sweep- 
 ings of the building saved thousands of dollars in the year. 
 How much more precious the most minute fragments of time ! 
 
 * Immortalized by Miss Edgeworth. 
 
LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 59 
 
 and yet how often are they trodden upon like dust by thought- 
 lessness and folly ? The necessity of labor was doubtless in- 
 tended for our salutary discipline, yet it is a most painful 
 thought, that so much of life's brief time is lost upon physical 
 wants and momentary gratifications. To say nothing of our 
 useless infancy, the long years of preparation for active life, 
 daily demands for sleep and food and social decencies, what 
 makes up the business of the world ? Ascend by day some 
 eminence from which you can look down on this populous 
 city — what busy crowds are hurrying to and fro — what a 
 hum of anxious voices — what a clamor of incessant toil! 
 Here a long train of flying cars are drawn along the level 
 way ; there, many a freighted vessel spreads her white can- 
 vass to the breeze, seeking distant continents, or folds her 
 weary wings as she glides to her rest ; below, the reluctant 
 beast drags his heavy load ; stately warehouses rise thick on 
 every hand, and countless shops display their glittering wares ; 
 while marble palaces, with pillared fronts and thronged as- 
 cents, demand the admiring eye. What is the cause of all 
 this struggle ? What mighty end thus makes man and beast 
 and element subservient ? It is a vain attempt to answer 
 the insatiable craving of the human heart, " what shall we eat, 
 what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed ?" 
 With rare exceptions, mere living is the business of life, and 
 mind the slave of the body's occasions ; star-eyed science is 
 invoked only to swell the profits of business by her money 
 making or money saving inventions ; dear poesy flings aside 
 the noblest lyre that ever woke echoes of freedom in Ameri- 
 can bosoms, to go into 
 
60 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 ■ The Cotton Trade 
 
 And Sugar Line, • 
 
 while religion is allowed to tell vulgar rogues, that they must 
 not steal, nor pull down flour stores, nor riot at elections, 
 but is frowned back to her altars as an impudent intermed- 
 dler with things beyond her sphere, if she dare to speak of 
 the mysteries of stock-jobbing, excesses of credit, or bubbles 
 of speculation ; and as for conscience, since the notable dis- 
 covery that corporations have no souls, her scruples are si- 
 lenced by an act of assembly. Surely mind, spiritual, immor- 
 tal mind, was made for better uses ; and when I think of the 
 spacious shelves laden with well worn books, the croAvded 
 lecture hall, the munificent founders, and see before me the 
 intelligent countenances of those who are the active members 
 of the Mercantile Library Association, I am well assured 
 that all is not lost, nor is " the city wholly given to idolatry." 
 I have meant no disrespect for the city of New York. I 
 have spoken of it only as part of the busy world. Disrespect 
 for New York ? It is my birth place, the home of my youth, 
 and the asylum of my earliest affections. Grown it is indeed, 
 almost out of my knowledge ; and when I come to visit it, 
 it seems strange yet familiar, as a vigorous young man in a 
 long coat, whom one knew first a growing boy in a round- 
 about jacket. I once, when far away in a foreign land, pick- 
 ed up a New York paper, and read an advertisement of 
 building lots in hundred and forty-second street ; and on an- 
 other page, an article on bringing the Croton River to New 
 York. "What folly ! I thought to myself. Bring the Croton 
 River to New York ? let them wait a few years longer, and 
 
LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 61 
 
 at this rate New York will go to Croton River. There must 
 have been some mistake, however, for on my return the only 
 inhabitant I found near that spot was a hermit frog, a " fat and 
 greasy citizen" who croaked unconscious defiance of land tax 
 and water rents. 
 
 Dear New York ! Few of you, young men, remember it 
 as I do, when we ran down the Flattenberg on our little 
 sleighs, or skated on Lispenard's meadows and Burr's pond, 
 and thought Leonard street " up town." But cross in a sum- 
 mer's day to Weehawken, and climb the hill above the spot 
 where the monument used to stand, till 
 
 " Your foot is on the verge of the clifF, and you can hear 
 The low dash of the wave with startled ear," 
 
 And then look forth upon the bay, and you will see it un- 
 changed. 
 
 " Tall spire, and glittering roof, and battlement, 
 And banners floating in the sunny air, 
 And white sails on the calm blue waters bent, 
 Green isle, and circling shore, are blended there 
 In w^ild reality — when life is old, 
 And many a scene forgot, the heart will hold 
 Its memory of this ; now, lives there one, 
 "Whose infant breath was drawn, or boyhood's days 
 Of happiness were passed beneath that sun, 
 That in his manhood's prime can calmly gaze 
 Upon that bay, or on that mountain stand, 
 Nor feel the prouder of his native land." 
 
 I said I meant no disrespect for New York, neither did I 
 for merchants. My father was a merchant of New York, and 
 
 6 
 
62 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 dear to his son, above most things in this hfe, is the reputation 
 he won in the walks of commerce and by the application of 
 its gains, for unsullied integrity and noble benevolence. It is 
 beyond the power of thought to estimate the blessings which 
 God has conferred upon the world by the influence of com- 
 merce and commercial men. The history of modem civiliza- 
 tion and modern liberty is identified with the history of 
 commerce. The first dawnings of rational freedom were in 
 the commei'cial republics of Venice and Genoa ; though spoil- 
 ed by success, and depraved by luxury, their merchant-princes 
 became tyrants, and then slaves. But scarcely later in the 
 Lower Netherlands, the merchant cities of those brave Saxons 
 and Frisons, who preferred to wring from the sea an asylum 
 for freedom, rather than submit to Roman conquest or Frank 
 oppression, with thoughts as free as the ocean breeze which 
 wafted their freighted barks, first taught the world the lesson 
 of constitutional government, and the strength of confederated 
 rights ; first proclaimed that the right of government was not 
 in the hereditary noble, but in man ; and insisted upon the 
 admission of every man, even the humblest, to freedom, though 
 they reserved the honor of citizenship as a reward of integrity 
 and industry. From the free cities of Flanders, from among 
 their merchants and tradesmen, arose the first men of the peo- 
 ple that dared to take power by the throat, and bind the hands 
 of tyranny by the cords of reason ; and since that day, true 
 civil liberty, 1 mean that which secures alike the happiness of 
 the whole people, most abounds where commerce is the most 
 active and the most free. In our own happy land, we have 
 brought those lessons of equality, confederation, and self-gov- 
 
LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 63 
 
 ernment, nearest to perfection ; but we have yet more to learn. 
 Unhallowed is that pride and insolence of wealth, which 
 would make the political rights of the poor and rich unequal, 
 for then would the fate of Venice and Genoa be ours. Un- 
 hallowed is that fanaticism, which, from partial prejudices or 
 selfish interests, would strain the cords of our union to disrup- 
 tion, for then the chaotic dance of atoms would be repeated in 
 the concussion of civil wars, and final confusion of rights and 
 liberties ; but, though perhaps I may differ from some who 
 hear me, I must be permitted to add, as the wish of one hum- 
 ble but sincere patriot, happy will that day be, when trade shall 
 be free as the spirit of the constitution, every shackle taken 
 from her wings, and, after a just tax paid for the support and 
 protection of government, duties be demanded from none, nor 
 privileges granted to any, that are not granted to all ; when 
 every man shall be justified in pursuing whatever honest oc- 
 cupation he pleases, and trade when he pleases, and in what 
 he pleases, be it goods or be it money, and there be acknowl- 
 edged no right or power anywhere to restrain the honest 
 uses of capital, to endanger or distract the common currency, 
 to exact from the consumer an artificial price, or to deprive 
 the producer of his just rewards. Only let commerce be free, 
 and the sinews of commerce, agriculture and manufactures, be 
 free, and we need not fear for the freedom of the world. 
 They are young giants that need no swaddling bands — grow- 
 ing oaks, that ask no hot-house care. 
 
 Nor should it be forgotten, that we owe to commerce the 
 discovery of once unknown continents, and that but for her, 
 we should never have gloried in the name of Americans. It 
 
64 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 is commerce whicli makes the luxuries of eacli land common to 
 all ; brings the spices of the tropics to enrich the dainties of 
 our winter festivals, cheers us in the morning with the sober 
 berry's juice, and refreshes us in the evening with " the cup 
 that cheers, but not inebriates," mingled and blessed by the fair 
 hands of those we love. The hordes of India, the serfs of Rus- 
 sia, the paupers of Britain, toil, at her command, for us. 
 
 There are also in the stem ethics and the fearless confidence 
 of enlarged commerce, some of the finest exhibitions of lofty 
 humanity and generous truth. " It might tempt one," says an 
 admirable author, " to be proud of his species, when he looks 
 upon the faith reposed in a merchant by a distant correspon- 
 dent, who, without one other hold of him than his honor, con- 
 fides to him the wealth of a whole flotilla, and sleeps in the 
 confidence that it is safe. It is indeed an animating thought, 
 amid the gloom of a world's depravity, when we behold the 
 credit which one man puts in another, though separated by 
 seas and by continents ; when he fixes the anchor of a sure 
 and steady dependence on the reputed faith of one whom he 
 never saw ; when with all his fear for the treachery of the 
 various elements through which his property must pass, he 
 knows, that should it arrive at the door of his agent, his fears 
 and his suspicions may be at an end. "We know nothing finer 
 than such an act of homage from one being to another, when 
 perhaps the diameter of the globe is between them ; nor do 
 we think that either the renown of her victories, or the wis- 
 dom of her counsels, so signalizes the country in which we 
 live, as do the honorable dealings of her merchants, or the 
 awarded confidence of those men, of all tribes and colors and 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 65 
 
 languages, who look to our agency for the faithfulness of all 
 management, and to our keeping for the most inviolable of all 
 custody." Thus Chalmers wrote of the merchants of his 
 country ; but we may adopt his language for our own. 
 
 Yet giving to commerce all its due, the life of an intelligent 
 being should have far higher ends than those the pursuits of 
 business can immediately promise. If immortality beyond 
 the grave be not all a dream, it will be to those who are pre- 
 pared to enter it, an immortality of mind and affection, where 
 the grosser influences of the body, its low necessities and ani- 
 mal pleasures, which demand so much of present care and 
 toil and time, shall be unknown forever. There we shall 
 neither plough, nor weave, nor buy, nor sell. There the 
 miserable arithmetic of dollars and cents shall have no place. 
 Knowledge shall be the desire and pursuit of the soul, and 
 holy love employ the willing activity of all its powers. It 
 must be, then, that as life is but the season of preparation for 
 immortality, the right pursuit of knowledge, and cultivation of 
 the heart, are the true methods of making life profitable. 
 Religion teaches this from every page of the inspired volume. 
 The end of her regeneration is to quicken within us a nobler 
 life than fallen nature gives us — to make the soul conqueror 
 of the body, which has revolted from its rule and held it in 
 chains. The end of her faith is by the manifestation of spiritual 
 and eternal treasures, to win our heart from the pursuit of those 
 objects of sense which perish in the using, and the end of her 
 morality the practice of that holy affection, though in the 
 lower forms of which only we now are capable, which shall be 
 the occupation of eternity. " Ye are not of the world, but I 
 6* 
 
66 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 have chosen you out of the world," is the language of Him who 
 " brought life and immortality to light" by the Gospel, con- 
 cerning all who through him " look for glory and honor." 
 
 But they greatly mistake the spirit of Christianity, who 
 make it to consist in mystical abstractions and formal ceremo- 
 nies. No knowledge nor seeming morality, without the love 
 of God, and faith in Christ, will prepare us for the ordeal of the 
 judgment, and admission to the skies. The kingdom of God 
 must first be reestablished in the heart ; yet when that king- 
 dom is acknowledged and that faith professed, every advance 
 in true knowledge, and every application of knowledge to true 
 usefulness, is an additional preparation for our spiritual im- 
 mortality. True science is the knowledge of things in their 
 causes ; and the knowledge of the Great First Cause is the 
 end and height of science. But He, who has caused the holy 
 Scriptures to be " written for our learning" of Him, has also 
 given us His book of Nature, and every demonstration of 
 science should be regarded by us as a step of that ladder, by 
 which the student of earth may ascend towards the presence of 
 God in heaven. It is this which gives to science its dignity 
 and value. Its only worthy subject should be lasting as the 
 soul itself, enduring when the minerals, the animals, the vege- 
 tables, and the elements, about which philosophy now inquires, 
 shall pass away and be no more, but the soul survive. The 
 name of philosophy has been abused, and men have accounted 
 themselves philosophers while studying the habits of an insect's 
 life, classifying the refuse shells which ocean casts upon its 
 shores, discovering the properties of stones and plants, search- 
 ing and comparing the anatomy of animal frames, or endeav- 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 67 
 
 oring (for after all, metaphysical science is but an endeavor) 
 to analyze the powers of the human mind, while the idea of 
 the great Author has scarcely entered their minds, and they 
 have taken not one step toward communion with Him. Mere 
 worldly utility, the passing mental pleasure of investigation, 
 or fame of new discoveries, are the perishing and grovelling 
 aims of such philosophy, falsely so called. The true end of 
 science is above all these. It is the elevation of the soul 
 above earth, the spiritualizing of the heart from the influ- 
 ences of mere sense, and the education of immortal man for 
 that eternal converse with his God face to face, " where he 
 shall know even as he is known." To terminate science in 
 that which is merely immediately useful, or to count its worth 
 merely by its sordid gains, is to make reason no better than 
 instinct of a wider range, and the faculties of the soul servants 
 of the senses. When death comes, when in the final catas- 
 trophe all these things shall pass away, such science will ap- 
 pear to have been but a laborious folly, and such philosophy 
 the idle vagaries of an idiot's dream. This is no religious 
 cant, no prejudiced fanaticism of a narrow-minded preacher. 
 It has been the theory of a just philosophy in all ages. Per- 
 mit me to quote the testimony of Cicero, the best ethical writer 
 of the Latin, a scholar of the school of Socrates ; and in the 
 glowing translation of one who has proved, by a recent ad- 
 dress before a learned society, that he has not studied him in 
 vain, (I refer to Professor Tayler Lewis, and his discourse be- 
 fore the Phi Beta Kappa of Union College,) " He that knows 
 himself will know that he has within him something divine, 
 as it were a shrine and image of the Deity, consecrated and 
 
68 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 devoted to him. Thus taught to believe, he will act worthy 
 of so great a gift ; and when he hath thoroughly understood 
 for what end he hath been brought upon the theatre of life, 
 when he beholds in the principles of things everywhere shad- 
 owed forth images of everlasting ideas ; when thus prepared, 
 he turns to the study of nature, the land, the seas, the origin 
 of all things, from whence they came, to what ends they con- 
 duce, what in the system of things is mortal and perishing, 
 what is divine and eternal ; when in the study of these, he 
 learns to regard himself, not as surrounded by the walls of 
 one city, but as an inhabitant of the universe : in this magni- 
 ficence of things, this comprehending view and recognition of 
 universal nature, how will he then know himself? how will 
 he contemn, how will he look down upon, how will he 
 count as nothing, those things which are commonly esteemed 
 the greatest or most useful among mankind ?" and yet, asks 
 the indignant reprover of a base utilitarianism, who has ex- 
 hibited higher practical energy than Cicero ? 
 
 Can any one doubt that the science of Newton, the peer- 
 less prince of all investigators of God's lessons in nature, ac- 
 companied with the most childlike faith, and lowly following 
 of the Redeemer, increased his fitness for that sphere to which 
 the God with whom he had so long walked, took him at death ? 
 and if so, does Newton, now before the throne of the Lamb 
 that was slain, estimate the value of that science for its useful- 
 ness in navigation, or the convenience of calculating eclipses, 
 or any temporary end? No, if it be not forgotten by him 
 among the meridian brightness of heaven's intellectual and 
 loving joys, he accounts it to have been precious only so far 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 69 
 
 as it assisted him, and may assist others, in preparing, by ex- 
 pansive thought and lofty pursuits, for the soul's true home, a 
 heaven of perfect happiness, because a heaven of perfect 
 knowledge and perfect love. 
 
 Commerce, then, or any pursuit which is usually called 
 business, is unworthy of being considered the proper occupa- 
 tion of life. It is only necessary to provide or to procure the 
 means of living. The time devoted to it should be consid- 
 ered as a tax upon our immortal being, laid upon us by the 
 necessities of that curse which sin brought with it into our 
 world. If so, the leisure which the necessities of business al- 
 low, becomes incalculably more precious, as being the only 
 season when we can devote ourselves mainly and exclusively 
 to the great end of our being. For though there is no honest 
 pursuit of life in which we may not serve God and our fellow 
 men, no man is fitted for the practice of virtue merely by prac- 
 tice ; he must in hours of rest study its theory, contemplate its 
 ends, and wisely gird himself for the toil. 
 
 If there be one hei'e, (though I am sure there is not,) who 
 has no higher ambition than to be a mere man of business, a 
 mere slave of men's bodily necessities, a mere idolater of his 
 own purse ; to have his life but a thing of cotton bags and to- 
 bacco hogsheads, druggets and dowlasses, madder and fustic, 
 town lots, bank stocks, and exchanges ; his mind like the ad- 
 vertising side of a daily gazette, or the weekly Prices Cur- 
 rent ; the sum of his life, the balance sheet of his leger ; and 
 who estimates his worth by the dollars and cents which re- 
 main to his credit, who would choose for his immortality one 
 eternal "Wall street, and give up a crown of glory to be called 
 
70 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 the best man upon "change" — if there be such an one, he 
 may despise those moments of leisure which business spares, 
 waste them in sinful sleep, lounge them away in vapid amuse- 
 ments, dawdle over ephemeral magazines, or newspaper re- 
 ports of police causes and shocking accidents, squabble in the 
 low arena of party politics, exhaust his breath in blowing up 
 every bubble of popular excitement, lisp idle gallantries in 
 ladies' ears, who in their soul despise such emptiness, and but 
 tolerate the fool as they do a pet dog or a parrot, for want of 
 better company; or perhaps do worse, in vulgar debauche- 
 ries. He may despise leisui'e and so waste it, but he must 
 take the consequences in this world and the next. A mere 
 merchant ! a mere man of business ! Who would be content 
 with such a designation ? what respect can one feel for such 
 a character? All he gets from the world is the credit of 
 being worth so much dross, a little fawning servility from 
 those who wish to borrow of him or owe him already, or the 
 wondering calculation of how much his heirs will divide among 
 them when he leaves his wealth behind him with his rotting 
 body. "Were I such a man, I would wish my name to die 
 with me, and would ask neither marble nor granite, nor the 
 venal page, to preserve the memory of my sordid selfishness. 
 Let it perish like the thistle cut down by the mower's scythe, 
 or the dry muUen that decays on the barren hill side. 
 
 But there is a true grandeur, which though we cannot reach, 
 we must admire and may emulate, in him who devotes the 
 energies of a well stored mind to the pursuit of commerce, 
 that the fruits of noble enterprise may enable him to follow 
 the bent of his disposition in the spread of knowledge, and the 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 71 
 
 liberalities of a wide philanthropy; who can shake off the 
 meaner jealousies of trade with the dust of his warehouse ; 
 who leaves behind him the idolatries of covetousness well 
 pleased to enter the populous solitude of his library and hold 
 communion with the mighty dead, to join the social circle and 
 brighten the glow of cheerful but rational converse by the 
 warmth of his own intelligence, or to mingle with the evening 
 crowd, who meet to devise and prosecute new plans for doing 
 good to his countrymen and the world; whose walls are 
 adorned with works of native art, acquired by a price which 
 has cheered the child of genius in his lone enthusiasm ; at 
 whose table and hearthstone the scholar and the man of science 
 is a welcome and delighted guest, and whom religion claims 
 as her consistent and beneficent follower. Like a noble tree, 
 whose roots are struck deep in the fruitful earth, he stands in 
 a gigantic strength, his higher arms aspiring to heaven, while 
 the poor, the sorrowful, and the friendless, find shelter and 
 food beneath the shadow of his wide branches. There are 
 such men, such merchants, such men of business — rare in- 
 deed, but yet some. I need not quote the names of the dead. 
 There are men now living, living among you. For their sakes 
 let commerce be vindicated. Their charity will cover a mul- 
 titude of its sins, and their honorable fidelity redeem a city from 
 destruction, though it were a Sodom or Gomorrah. Let such 
 men be your examples, they are 'the beacon lights which at 
 once warn you of the dangers in your course, and guide you 
 to the sure haven of a self-approving peace and eternal joy. 
 
 The first rule I would then give for the use of leisure as 
 not abusing it, is to set before yourselves pure and no- 
 ble AIMS. 
 
72 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 Let the pursuit of gain be your necessity ; the pursuit of 
 knowledge and virtue, and religion, your delight and your re- 
 ward. Regard successful labors in business as only valuable 
 because they supply you with means of prosecuting your lofty 
 ends. 
 
 Avoid the degrading error of a mere personal ambition ; 
 ambition is a healthful stimulant, when duly mingled with be- 
 nevolence towards man and piety towards God ; but when all 
 its struggles, and pains, and toils, terminate in self, it is but 
 selfishness. To acquire money merely to say it is your own, 
 to spread feasts for flattering parasites, to fling open gorgeous- 
 ly decorated halls, that well dressed crowds may admire and 
 envy, or to roll in sumptuous equipages that the vulgar pedes- 
 trians, spattered by the wheels, may gape and wonder, is but 
 one remove from miserly meanness, which starves the stomach 
 to fatten the purse. The industrious artisan reaps his profits 
 from the prices of extravagance, but the bosom of the pom- 
 pous purse-proud fool can receive no merited delight from a 
 result his heart never proposed. In the same light are we to 
 regard an ostentation of benevolence to the poor, patronage 
 to the arts, or assistance to science or literature. The accla- 
 mations of the crowd, the newspaper eulogium, the servile ded- 
 ication, or the columns of a charity report, (the more than bra- 
 zen trumpet of modern Pharisaism,) can yield the hypocrite 
 no genuine pleasure. Conscience, Avhose honest rebuke no 
 bribe can blush, no applauses drown, no rhetoric deceive, points 
 to a frowning God, whose eyes pierce the intents of the rotten 
 heart, and declares : " Verily thou hast thy reward !" and the 
 wretch confesses in his secret thought : " This also is vanity." 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 73 
 
 Scarcely better is the pursuit of literary or scientific dis- 
 tinction for its own sake. It most frequently defeats itself. 
 Eagerness of new discoveries, anxiety to lead in some new 
 path, impatience for the acquisition of fame, proud unwilling- 
 ness to submit to others' teaching, all tend to the adoption of 
 startling but crude hypotheses, oversight of true facts, and 
 neglect of careful induction, glaring extravagance, or quaint 
 affectation of style ; and the pretender, after strutting a brief 
 hour in fancied greatness, is hissed from the stage to a de- 
 served but more infamous oblivion than he would have avoid- 
 ed. Though even before such a catastrophe, envy of other 
 men's success may have disfigured his semblance of mind, or 
 an insisting egotism covetous of praise, but unwilling to ac- 
 quire it except by demands, roused the furies of public scorn 
 to " lash him naked through the world." 
 
 Love knowledge for herself, love honor for its own blessed 
 consciousness, love religion as the messenger-angel to conduct 
 you to your God, and charity as her attendant handmaid, who 
 scatters flowers over the arid sands of human experience, and 
 they will so reward you, that ambition itself shall say, " It is 
 enough." 
 
 Let me repeat a caution I have before hinted. Estimate 
 not the value of results by their immediate usefulness ; this 
 would be to centre all in the present moment, or at least in 
 the present life. Good is rarely great which can be accom- 
 plished at once. All that can be seen in this life, bears but 
 a mean proportion to the profits of eternity. We must ad- 
 venture our whole capital, and be willing to lose its present 
 interest, if we would find the treasure increased an hundred 
 fold in heaven. 
 
74 LEISUBE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 " Man soweth here witli toil and care, 
 But the harvest time of love is there." 
 
 There is a joy in study in the calm hour of seclusion, where 
 we are " alone, and yet not alone, for the Father is with us," 
 a joy that no stranger intermeddleth with, which 
 
 " An age outweighs 
 
 Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas." 
 
 There is a joy in worth, the consciousness of self-command, 
 of high purposes, of a free conscience, and an approving God, 
 which no applauses of the wox"ld can equal, and no injustice 
 of the world can take away. 
 
 There is a joy in religion, a calm intercourse is opened with 
 heaven ; and the hope of its immortal blessedness stimulates 
 us to pursue the often rugged path of present duty, and so- 
 laces the pangs of present sorrow. 
 
 Be content, even if you can gain nothing more, with the ed- 
 ucation of your spirit, by the cultivation of your mind and the 
 cultivation of your heart, for that sphere where God designs it 
 shall have its largest expansion and highest bliss. 
 
 The second rule I would suggest for the right cultivation of 
 leisure is, a courageous belief that much lies within 
 
 TOUR capabilities. 
 
 The time was, when knowledge and its precious fruits were, 
 like power, the birthright of the few, and when the scanty and 
 high-priced scrolls, upon which the slow pen of the transcriber 
 had recorded the words of wisdom, could be bought only by 
 those who were under the necessity of no other toil. Blessed 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 75 
 
 be God ! this is no longer the case. Knowledge is as com- 
 mon to all who desire to enjoy her life-giving virtues, as the 
 air we breathe and the water which we drink. Literature, 
 and even science, have been known to flourish best with those 
 who have been born to few advantages, and have not made it 
 their sole profession. Nay, there seems to be often an almost 
 fantastic incongruity between the favorite and most successful 
 studies of some men, and their declared pursuits. The best 
 ethical writer of Great Britain in the present time is Aber- 
 crombie, who closes a day of immense toil in medical practice 
 with happy meditations upon metaphysical themes ; while not 
 a few of those most eminent in the same kingdom for physi- 
 cal science, are thoroughly educated theologians. Drew, the 
 admu'able author of treatises upon the resurrection, the im- 
 mortality of the soul, and kindred subjects, was a working 
 shoemaker, who first essayed to pursue physical science, but 
 abandoned the attempt from the want of money to purchase ap- 
 paratus, and time to make experiments, and devoted himself to 
 subjects which he could analyze within the laboratory of his 
 own brain, and investigate while he sat upon his bench and 
 drew the wax thread. The writer of EHa, the late Charles 
 Lamb, earned (to use an illustration of a brother lecturer in 
 another city) his peculiar reputation during three and thirty 
 years of service as a merchant's clerk, " chained," as he feel- 
 ingly expressed it, " to the desk's dull wood," and this in a 
 narrow lane of smoky, drizzling, ever sombre London. Ros- 
 coe, it is well knoAvn, was engaged either in legal or commer- 
 cial pursuits, while he wrote the lives of the two Medici. He 
 was, it is true, as Washington Irving has told us in the Sketch 
 
76 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 Book, unfortunate in business, but it was from other causes 
 than incapacity for business, or neglect of it. 
 
 Speaking of Washington Irving, reminds me, by the way, 
 that I was told by a mere man of business in Liverpool, that 
 he knew my countryman, Mr. Irving, while he was attempt- 
 ing commercial pursuits in that city ; but, said he, with a do- 
 lorous shake of the head, which showed what was uppermost 
 in his estimation, " he did'nt get on, sir, he did'nt get on." 
 Thank God ! he did'nt get on. 
 
 Indeed, men of leisure, as they are termed, ai"e rarely 
 known to attain greatness. Their time is frittered away in 
 trifles, resolutions, and procrastinations. They lack the habit 
 of industry which occupation teaches, and are exposed to a 
 thousand temptations men of business never know, the force 
 of sluggishness being the worst of all. The stagnant pool will 
 become muddy and foul, and perhaps mischievous to the health 
 of its neighborhood ; but the rapid stream runs sparkling and 
 clear, and, having turned the mill which grinds the bread, 
 may water the meadows with their thousand flowers, and wash 
 the wing of many a joyous bird as he carols in his sport. 
 
 It is, therefore, a great mistake, that literature or intellec- 
 tual pursuits of any kind must be attached to what is termed 
 professional hfe. Governor Everett, in a recent speech, 
 which you have all probably read, gives an account of a work- 
 ing blacksmith, who had acquired a knowledge of fifty lan- 
 guages in his hours of leisure.* (Without knowing more of 
 that industrious person, I would hardly recommend his exam- 
 ple in all things, for though my suspicions may be unfounded, 
 
 * The since famous Elihu Burritt. 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 77 
 
 I cannot help thinking that some of that time had been better 
 spent in acquiring the knowledge a few of those languages 
 contained, than in learning the grammars and vocabularies of 
 the rest.) Sir William Jones had acquired more than thirty, 
 (including dialects of India,) though he died in his forty-ninth 
 year, was chained to the bench at least eight hours a day for 
 a long period, and yet left behind him, besides some valuable 
 writings, including a volume of delightful lyric poetry, the 
 product of the leisure hours of his leisure, Calvin, Luther, 
 and John Wesley, were all very voluminous writers, and up- 
 on profound subjects, although, when we remember the inces- 
 sant journeyings and labors they went through, it is difficult 
 to imagine how they found time to preserve even the chain 
 of friendly correspondence. 
 
 Let no man say, then, he has no time, and no opportunities 
 for study, because he is a man of business. I wish in my 
 heart that young men, who toil amidst the drudgery of mer- 
 cantile pursuits for the gains of others, had more time allowed 
 them by arrangements upon the part of their employers. It 
 is a sad tyranny that exacts so large a portion of their daily 
 time, to say nothing of extraordinary but not unfrequent en- 
 gagements. Yet no young man need despair of accomplish- 
 ing much, if he have the courageous confidence to attempt 
 much, and persevere. It is better, incomparably better, to 
 accomplish something, than idly to endeavor after nothing. 
 
 This brings me to a third rule for the redemption of leisure, 
 
 A CAREFUL ECONOMY IN THE DISPOSITION OF IT. 
 
 When we regard our fragments of time separately, they 
 seem indeed small, and offer little encouragement to think 
 7* 
 
78 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 much can be done with them ; but, when we add them to- 
 gether, their aggregate may be very precious. Like the par- 
 ticles of gold dust, to which I alluded in an early part of this 
 lecture, each may be almost beneath estimation ; yet as that 
 gold dust, thrown together into the crucible, forms the bar 
 from which many a coin is made, so our leisure economically 
 gathered and applied, will supply us with current and sterling 
 thoughts, which we may employ in enriching others, while we 
 enrich ourselves. 
 
 Abandon the habit of procrastination — postpone no valua- 
 ble purpose to a more convenient season, nor idly dream, as 
 some have done, that when the busy toil of years has won the 
 reward of competence, you will then have free scope and op- 
 portunity for higher engagements. Youth is the only season 
 for the formation of intellectual habit. The sinews of the 
 mind, like those of the body, soon become stiff and unpliable. 
 It would be as easy for the leopard to change his spots, or the 
 Ethiopian his skin, as for one who had spent the greater part 
 of his life in entire idolatry of business, to lay aside his invet- 
 erate taste, tendencies, and customs, for the calm retirement, 
 and inward satisfactions, and self-sustaining pleasures of study 
 and thought. There are few more pitiable characters, than 
 theirs, who, without any qualification for a profitable employ- 
 ment of leisure, have in an evil hour given up business by 
 which they have reahzed sufficient fortunes, with the vain 
 hope of enjoying freedom from its laborious exactions. The 
 toils and anxieties which they would put away, have become 
 necessary to their existence. The vacant hours hang heavy 
 cm their hands, and their heart is in the bustling world from 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AJSTD ABUSES. 79 
 
 which they profess to have retired. For a few weeks they 
 may be missed from their accustomed haunts, but it is soon to 
 reappear like uneasy spirits amidst the scenes of former life, 
 lounging among insurance offices and bank parlors, meditating 
 prices when they have nothing to sell, eagerly engaging in 
 the business gossip of the day, wondering why the expected 
 packet does not arrive, though its arrival promises them nei- 
 ther consignments nor remittances, and finding no solace for 
 the widowhood of their hearts from their first and only love, 
 but in shaving notes, speculating in stocks, and bidding at 
 land sales ; and like 
 
 " The phantom knight, his glory fled, 
 "Who mourns the field he heaped with dead, 
 Mounts the wild blast that sweeps amain ; 
 Or chief whose antique crownlet long, 
 Still sparkled in the feudal song, 
 Now, from' the mountain's misty throne, 
 Sees in the thraldom once his own, 
 His ashes undistinguished lie. 
 His place, his power, his memory, die." 
 
 So they linger sorrowfully among those who once acknowl- 
 edged their power and skill, but now thrust them aside as 
 bores and troublers of busier men ; or, like the Ghouls of 
 eastern fable, though dead themselves, can yet suck the life- 
 blood of the living by usurious exactions. 
 
 If you would enjoy intellectual pleasures after the necessi- 
 ties of other toil has ceased, you must prepare for it by the 
 assiduous cultivation of your previous leisure. 
 
80 LEISURE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 Energetic industry in the use of the few moments of leisure 
 we may have, is necessary to economy of time. 
 
 It is a well known fact, that when the powers of the mind 
 are zealously given to any matter, more may be accomplished 
 in a few hours, than sluggish effort will reach in many days. 
 Much pains and practice are necessary to acquire sufficient 
 mastery over our faculties, to give them this directness and 
 intensity of application, yet, where there is generous enthu- 
 siasm for the attainment of worthy ends, it may be secured by 
 pains and practice ; and as a man of business, the moment he 
 enters his office in the morning, and breathes its air, can, al- 
 most without an effort, shut out everything but business from 
 his thoughts, so wiU the intellectual aspirant learn to assume 
 all the spirit of the student the moment he opens his books or 
 takes up his pen. With what ease does the physician pass 
 from the anxieties of one sick room to those of another, or the 
 lawyer turn the force of his talents to one case after another, 
 or the merchant settle in the course of a single day the risks 
 and probabilities of many operations. It requires little more 
 habit and effort to change the occupation of the mind from 
 business to study, and study again to business. The mind 
 needs relief it is true, but the best rehef is not entire relaxa- 
 tion, but alternation of pursuit ; entire rest, except when the 
 body needs the repose of slumber is the worst torture of an 
 active spirit. 
 
 But industry will avail us little without system. Our plan 
 must be intelligently decided upon, and then steadily pursued. 
 The swiftest runner attains the goal by successive steps, and 
 though each interval of leisure may not be sufficient to make 
 
LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 81 
 
 much progi'ess, we may pursue as long as it lasts the right 
 direction, and resume it when another interval occurs. This 
 steady perseverance, which is compatible only with system, 
 will in the end accomplish more than the most violent spas- 
 modic eflPorts, disconnected from each other from the want of 
 a plan. There is on record the instance of a studious man, 
 who, jBnding that he was called to his dinner every day a few 
 minutes before it was ready, devoted those few minutes to the 
 wx'iting of a work, which in the process of time swelled to 
 some goodly volumes ; a striking hint to us to save the min- 
 utes, that hours be not lost ; for though it may seem a mere 
 truism, it is often forgotten, that an hour a day is fifteen days 
 in a year, and in twenty-four years, a year. 
 
 Be not then vacillating in your purposes. Let not every 
 bright meteor that shoots across your path, attract you to new 
 aims. This would be to make your life but as whirling sands 
 borne about by every fickle wind. Few men are great or 
 useful in many pursuits of different nature, for though we do 
 read of the " admirable Crichton," who was skilled in every 
 known accomplishment, language, art, and science, he has left 
 behind him no valuable proofs that he was useful in anything ; 
 and we have a common saying, that " a man of many trades 
 is good at none." Be not satisfied with doing anything till 
 you have done it well, and then you will have at least the 
 satisfaction of having done nothing ill. 
 
 These rules being acknowledged to be just, there is little 
 need of stating formally another, to devote our leisure to such 
 occupation as is the most valuable. 
 
 If our leisure is to be industrious, our industry should be so 
 
82 LEISURE — ITS USES AKD ABUSES. 
 
 directed as to secure the greatest profit. There is a choice in 
 reading. I will not enter into any argument to prove the 
 mischievous character of romantic and fictitious writings. 
 Fables are often instructive. Our Saviour taught much in 
 parables ; and as a scholar and a lover of books, I would be 
 sorry to bum the " Pilgrim's Progress." True pictures of 
 the human heart, and exhibitions of safe and moral practice, 
 are often found in the supposed life and adventures of imagi- 
 nary characters. Good poetry is but a higher order of meta- 
 physics and moral teaching. But I put it to your own judg- 
 ment, whether the reading of fiction generally is the most 
 valuable use a man of little leisure can make of his little time. 
 One, whose sole pursuit is of an intellectual character, may 
 have some faint excuse for thus unbending his overstrained 
 mind, which must be seduced, as it were, from the fever of 
 thought ; but for him who has but a few hours in the day or 
 week, to follow highwaymen and fops, with Bulwer, through 
 low crimes and silly affectations, or revel in imagination 
 amidst gorgeous scenes of foreign and aristocratic fashion, as 
 described by the volumes of trash the modern press vomits 
 upon our shores, is madness in the extreme. It is the sure 
 way to unfit him for the actual world in which he lives, and 
 where his duties lie. 
 
 Newspapers are also sad thieves of time. I speak in no 
 disparagement of the many able gentlemen who cater for our 
 daily tastes ; the fault is rather in their readers, upon whose 
 favors they live. But, ordinarily, the columns of our daily 
 prints contain little that is worthy of perusal by a man in- 
 quiring after valuable knowledge. Distorted political state- 
 
LEISUEE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 83 
 
 ments, squabbles between rival editors, beginning in wit and 
 ending often in low abuse, accounts of shocking accidents, and 
 police reports of vulgar crimes, sometimes (alas !) prurient 
 scandal, and mawkish attempts at sentiment, make up much 
 of their morning and evening offerings. It is often boasted 
 that we have in this country such a vast number of daily and 
 other newspapers. Their number is rather a curse than a 
 blessing. Condense the scattered talents of the many into a 
 few ; make by such aggregation of patronage as would place 
 those few above all casual necessities, and make intelligent 
 editors recipients of such rewards as their talents deserve ; 
 allow a rational freedom to the press, and not estabhsh a sepa- 
 rate journal for the advocacy of every shade of opinion, or 
 pettishly insist that your newspapers shall be but babbling 
 echoes of your own prejudices ; and the daily and weekly 
 journals will become worth our reading, and the best minds 
 will contribute to their resources. As it is, newspapers (if we 
 guard not against them) become dangerous seductions. I 
 knew a gentleman of learning and talents, who confessed that 
 he became so interested by a newspaper dispute between two 
 silly and illiterate tailors, that he missed his amusement when 
 the miserable correspondence ceased ; and I acknowledge for 
 myself, that no matter how I may be pressed with important 
 engagements, I always seize the morning and evening papers 
 with eagerness, and never lay them down without a sigh. 
 
 Few of our magazines are better worth our attention. 
 They are, for the most part, a poor patch-work, a tinsel mo- 
 saic of superficial learning, crude novelties, abortive wit, 
 pointless tales, splenetic or fulsome i*eviews, and half hatched 
 
84 LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 rhymes. Honorable exceptions there are, but they are too 
 few and too well known to need any impertinent distinctions 
 from me. 
 
 For the same reasons, I would give my testimony against 
 the compends, and abridgments, and synopses, and epitomes, 
 with which this boasting but superficial age abounds. If you 
 admire skeletons without flesh, blood, or beauty, choose them ; 
 but if you would woo truth, in her living, breathing, perfect 
 loveliness, search for her in full treatises and complete de- 
 monstrations. The first will make you pedantic scioHsts, the 
 last, true philosophers. 
 
 Society you must have. It is necessary to the social wants 
 of the heart, and the society of intelligent persons will often 
 teach more and more pleasantly than books. Of society you 
 may have your choice. "Waste not then your time with the 
 sUly, who will never receive nor give profit. The truly good 
 and intelligent are ever ready to meet the advances of the 
 modest, the virtuous, and inquiring. In the atmosphere which 
 they breathe, you will always find health and delight ; but as 
 " evil communications corrupt good manners," so ignorant and 
 idle communications corrupt good sense. 
 
 No society is more profitable, because none more refining 
 and provocative of virtue, than that of refined and sensible 
 women. God enshrined peculiar goodness in the form of wo- 
 man, that her beauty might win, her gentle voice invite, and 
 the desire of her favor persuade men's sterner souls to leave 
 the paths of sinful strife for the ways of pleasantness and 
 peace. But when woman falls from her blest eminence, and 
 sinks the guardian and the cherisher of pure and rational enjoy- 
 
LEISUKE ITS USES AND ABUSES. 85 
 
 ments into the vain coquette, or flattered idolater of idle fash- 
 ion, she is unworthy of an honorable man's love, or a sensible 
 man's admiration. Beauty is then but at best 
 
 " A pretty play-thing, 
 
 Dear deceit." 
 
 I honor the chivalrous deference which is paid in our land 
 to women. It proves that our men know how to respect vir- 
 tue and pure affection, and that our women are worthy of 
 such respect. Yet woman should be something more than 
 mere woman to win us to their society. To be our compan- 
 ions, they should be fitted to be our friends ; to rule our hearts, 
 they should be deserving the approbation of our minds. 
 There are many such, and that there are not more, is rather 
 the fault of our sex than their own ; and, despite all the un- 
 manly scandals that have been thrown upon them in prose or 
 verse, they would rather share in the rational conversation of 
 men of sense, than listen to the siUy compliments of fools ; 
 and a man dishonors them as well as disgraces himself, when 
 he seeks their circle for idle pastime, and not for the improve- 
 ment of his mind and the elevation of his heart. 
 
 I should be unworthy of my office, were I to conclude this 
 effort to serve you, without especially commending you to the 
 teachings and communings of the God of Nature and the 
 Bible. Make God your friend, clothe yourself with his ever 
 presence, bathe yourselves in the waters of his truth. In the 
 Scriptures you will find the purest morals, the safest maxims 
 of practical wisdom, the most faithful pictures of the human 
 heart, and the finest examples of moral heroism. There are 
 8 
 
86 LEISURE — ITS USES AND ABUSES. 
 
 the most faithful of histories, poetry the most sublime, and 
 pathos the most tender. The whole range of literature can- 
 not vie with that one volume in ministering to true intellectual 
 taste and assisting mental growth. But, my friends, these are 
 the least reasons for its study. It is the lamp which our 
 Heavenly Father offers to our hands, that we may trace the 
 yay that leads through the darkness of this life to the region 
 of eternal light and joy. It tells us of one who so loved the 
 world as to come from heaven to earth, that we might learn 
 to ascend from earth to heaven : who, while he sanctified him- 
 self to be our Saviour from the guilt of our sin, brought all 
 the beauty and strength of divinity to adorn his example of a 
 perfect man ; and now, from the far heaven of his reward, 
 yet regards with a brother's eye, and assists by Almighty 
 strength, every sincere soul that seeks to tread in his footsteps 
 and trusts in his grace. He will be your friend if you are 
 His. As my parting counsel, let me then entreat that you 
 allow no day to pass without spending some due portion of 
 time in meditating on the sacred word, and asking the blessed 
 intercession of Jesus, the Son of God. He that can find no 
 leisure for this, must make strange estimates ; for " what," I 
 ask you as men of business to make the calculation, " what 
 
 IS A MAN PROFITED IF HE GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD AND 
 LOSE HIS OWN SOUL ?" 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 HEAD BEFORE THE 
 
 ATHENIAN INSTITUTE OF PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 1839. 
 
L E C T U EE. 
 
 Sallust, in his book on Catiline's conspiracy, gives it as 
 his opinion, that Athens owes her fame less to her real great- 
 ness, than to the patriotic genius of her writers. The remark 
 is self-contradictory, for nowhere, but in the bosom of a great 
 people, could so many illustrious authors, of such various 
 characters, have acquired the knowledge and felt the motive 
 to excel ; yet, iU-founded as it is, it is of use to show the jeal- 
 ousy, which the Roman felt, of Athenian preeminence in the 
 judgment of future ages. 
 
 Greece and Rome must ever be rivals for the regard of 
 the student, whether his favorite pursuit be mere literature, 
 the progress of society, the science of government, the philo- 
 sophy of morals, the refining beauty of Art, or the more 
 doubtful glory of warlike achievement. Plutarch but accom- 
 modated himself to this necessary comparison, when in his 
 matchless biographies he weighed each famous Greek against 
 a famous Roman. 
 
 To the American, who bears the two most noble names on 
 earth, Christian and Republican, the study of those nations 
 ought to be especially attractive. In their ethics and spiritual 
 philosophy he may see how far short the best efforts of man's 
 
 8* 
 
90 THE AGE or PERICLES. 
 
 best mind fall of the divine beauty in the simple teachings of 
 the Sage of Galilee ; and learn, after having wondered that 
 reason unassisted by revelation could attain so far, and wept 
 that it could go no further, to rest with a firmer trust and a 
 more grateful love on those truths which God has caused to 
 be " written for our learning, that we through patience and 
 comfort in the Scriptures might have hope." It is only the 
 superficial thinker who talks lightly of ancient heathen wis- 
 dom, and considers its existing remains as of no value. He 
 best knows the blessing of the Sun of Righteousness, who has 
 talked with the mighty spirits of the past in their region of 
 the shadow of death ; and never does the Bow of Promise 
 beam in such lively colors, as when we see it spanning that 
 mysterious cloud of former darkness, which no heathen hope 
 had strength to pierce. Nor should we forget that the great 
 apostle of our faith was he, who, under the afflatus of inspi- 
 ration, brought a mind trained in the logic and philosophy of 
 the Grecian schools to the demonstration of Christianity. 
 
 The republican may discover in their forms and changes 
 of government, a dim, confused foreshadowing of our own free 
 systems, and rejoice that the fatal causes of their downfall 
 have been so happily obviated by the provisions of that sys- 
 tem, which, while it makes the sovereignty of the people the 
 basis of its strength, preserves in just balance the delegated 
 functions of legislation, judiciary and executive. Such an 
 examination is the more important, as every pen * which has 
 written in our language the history of Greece and Rome, has 
 been strongly biased in favor of aristocratic government. 
 
 * Thirlwall is an exception. 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 91 
 
 The reader of Mitford, Gillies (even in his translations of 
 Aristotle's philosophical treatises) and the rest, must be ever 
 on his guard against concealments, misstatements, and false in- 
 ferences, designed or unintentional, which cast contempt upon 
 republican principles, and alarm the generous lover of equal 
 rights. Indeed, the history of the whole world, except what 
 we have of it in the Bible, needs to be re-written. The time 
 has come when we can no longer be satisfied to call biogra- 
 phies of a few great captains or lawgivers, and records of 
 changing dynasties, history. We demand histories of the 
 people, of their condition, character, opinions and movements. 
 Mr. Prescott, in his admirable work on the reign of Ferdi- 
 nand and Isabella, and Mr. Bancroft, in that history of our 
 own land which will bear his name illustrious to the last age 
 of time, have nobly set the example of philosophic history. 
 No other historians have shown such sympathy with the peo- 
 ple, and they could have acquired it nowhere but in republi- 
 can America. May they be followed by others from among 
 us, who will vindicate the importance of the many from the 
 neglects of the few ! 
 
 But the calm inquirer into the history of ancient republics 
 will find no cause of fear for our own government and people, 
 except so far as we may tolerate wrong in violation of our 
 political creed ; but will rather be encouraged to write upon 
 the architrave of that system, whose foundation is the freedom 
 of the people, and whose strong simple pillars are law, intel- 
 ligence, virtue and religion, not the wish of a doubting patriot, 
 "Esto perpetua ! " but the bold prophecy of a heart confident 
 in the supreme power of truth, ^^Erit in perpetuum ! " 
 
92 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 The Athenian is the most attractive of the Grecian States, 
 and, in many regards, more interesting than the Roman. 
 Rome was the more stupendous, Athens the more graceful. 
 Rising from a further antiquity, Athens is original, Rome 
 more like a copy ; while in letters, art and philosophy Athens 
 is the acknowledged mistress. The Latin authors are more 
 familiar, because more easily read, but the Greek well repay 
 our harder study and open to us the fountains of all classic 
 beauty and delight. Some critics have given the palm to the 
 Latin historian, but the rushing energy of Demosthenes bears 
 down even the high-toned, sonorous eloquence of his Roman 
 rival, and no sufficient umpire would place the elegant Man- 
 tuan upon a pedestal as high as that from which the Father 
 of poetry looks down on aU ages. (We give Homer to Athens 
 because she first collected and edited his works.) Cicero, 
 notwithstanding his imitations and plagiarisms, as a moralist, 
 and Horace as a lyrist, and Juvenal as a satirist, would have 
 the lecturer's suffrage over all the Greeks ; but Rome never 
 produced a dramatist worthy of being named in the same 
 hour with the three great Greek tragic writers, or in many 
 respects with the comic Aristophanes. It remained for one 
 in our own language to combine the supernatural grandeur 
 of -^schylus, the chastened subUmity of Sophocles, and the 
 truthful tenderness of Euripides, with the pungent wit (and, 
 alas ! too often the conceits and the grossness) of the licen- 
 tious fiiend of the young Alcibiades. 
 
 It is of Athens we would treat, and Athens in her palmiest 
 day, the time of Pericles. The brief space allotted to this 
 essay wiU not permit the writer to say much on the various 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 93 
 
 topics which will present themselves, nor will the intelligence 
 of his hearers allow him the vanity of hoping to say anything 
 new ; but if, while he causes to flit rapidly across the mirror 
 of educated memory persons and scenes already familiar from 
 converse with books, he can impress a few useful lessons, his 
 reward will be greater than he deserves. 
 
 A slight review of the political history of Athens will pre- 
 pare us, without waste of time, better to understand the con- 
 dition of the Athenian people at the time of that unparalleled 
 demagogue, who, without office, ruled by the strength of mind 
 and the unscrupulous cunning of ambitious tact. 
 
 The early history of Greece is lost in that Cimmerian 
 darkness from which its first settlers came. There are 
 changes of fashion in history as well as in the shape of our 
 garments, and it is the present mode among the learned to 
 treat as fabulous much of their legends which the Athenians 
 themselves considered as true, from well-established tradition. 
 Indefatigable Germans, bold as indefatigable, and their disci- 
 ples in Britain and this country, have not hesitated to pro- 
 nounce heroes and lawgivers, whose names are written upon 
 the heights, the plains and the shore of Attica, mere mythical 
 personages, whose only existence is in the dreams of the poet, 
 or philosophical fables of the mysteries. "We may, however, 
 venture to inquire whether the creation of such myths does 
 not argue a strength, ingenuity and refinement of conception 
 utterly inconsistent with the condition of mind in those ages 
 from which they came ; and whether, as we know that the 
 Esoterical teachers did use many real events and persons as 
 the material for their mythism, they may not have employed 
 
94 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 facts and persons originally true in other if not in all cases ? 
 However strong the evidence of immigration from India may 
 be, is it necessary to deny frequent and strong infusions from 
 Egypt? Or can we hesitate to doubt that the Athenians, 
 with cicadcB in their hair and the boast of Autochthonous ori- 
 gin on their lips, were made to admit the story of Egyptian 
 colonists without strong evidence ? That the Pelasgi, who- 
 ever they were, held Attica before the coming of Cecrops, is 
 very evident, but no ingenious etymologies nor interlinkings 
 of scattered sentences and obscure inferences, which erudite 
 men have employed to prove that Cecrops never existed, are 
 sufficient to destroy the testimony of tradition. We should 
 believe that the myths were founded on traditionary facts 
 rather than tradition upon myths ; for it is most unphiloso- 
 phical to believe that the main current of a generally received 
 tradition is false, especially where, as in this case, it is opposed 
 to national pride and pretension. Much of the Hellenic sys- 
 tem, like its incomparably perfect language, must have grown 
 upon its soil ; but that it did not receive many ingredients 
 from sacred Egypt, it would be a denial of analogy to assert. 
 These questions are, however, too abstruse for our present 
 discussion. We shall, therefore, while we are far from vouch- 
 ing for its entire authenticity, record the popular account of 
 the rise of Athens from Pelasgic obscurity to Attic splendor. 
 It was about 1556 B. C. that Cecrops, a warlike and phi- 
 losophical adventurer from Egypt, sailed through the Cyclades 
 in search of a new home for" himself and companions, and 
 found on the coast of Attica (so called from a word signifying 
 Sihore) a sheltered bay, with a lofty and almost impregnable 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES, 95 
 
 rock a few miles from the sea. The advantages of an oppor- 
 tunity for commerce, with a place of defence against wander- 
 ing pirates, determined them there to remain. The Pelasgi, 
 the rude people who claimed the country, were quickly sub- 
 dued, rather by the superior policy of the colonists than force 
 of arms, and easily united by Cecrops into one government 
 with his followers. They inhabited the land about the foot 
 of the rock, while the Egyptians held the rock itself, which 
 afterward acquired the name of Acropolis, or Height of the 
 City. Other tribes and territories were soon added to the 
 dominion of Cecrops, who proved himself, by his wisdom and 
 moderation, worthy of his new sceptre. He divided his sub- 
 jects, for the more ready administration of justice, into four 
 tribes, and encouraged them in the practice of social virtues. 
 The first tribe, bore his own name, and, although his succes- 
 sor was a native of the country, we may infer, with reason, 
 that the descendants of the Egyptian colonists claimed a cer- 
 tain degree of nobility. But Cecrops rendered the most es- 
 sential service to Athens (which derived its name from a title 
 of Minerva, its tutelary deity,) by the attention which he paid 
 to commerce ; and, as in modern republics, the free and gene- 
 rous spirit of the merchant inspired the Athenians with a no- 
 ble love of liberty, which afterward elevated their State to 
 such commanding eminence over the other States of Greece 
 and the Archipelago. 
 
 The population of Attica continued to increase rapidly. 
 For the soil, being rough and barren, offered little temptation 
 to predatory enemies, while it gave greater stimulus to an in- 
 vigorating industry. The comparative freedom and security 
 
96 THK AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 of the government drew many from the less regulated neigh- 
 boring countries. The benign climate allured more adventu- 
 rers from Asia, and the arts, which languished in the warmer 
 countries of their birth, flourished luxuriantly, enriching and 
 refining the people. Besides which, their commerce was ex- 
 tending and exerted a stronger influence upon their numbers 
 and prosperity. We are not, therefore, surprised to find the 
 seventh king (another Cecrops) from the Egyptian obliged to 
 divide his people into twelve tribes, giving a separate juris- 
 diction to each, the effect of which was greatly to weaken the 
 central power ; indeed, it produced the jirst germ of the popu- 
 lar authority. Consequently Theseus (1230 B. C.) modeled 
 the government anew, and united the people in one common- 
 wealth, instituting for the preservation of the union a grand 
 religious procession, in honor of Minerva, called Panathencea, 
 or service of the united Athenians, as the whole people en- 
 gaged in it. In accomplishing the revolution, it was neces- 
 sary for him to yield much of the royal prerogative, which, 
 however, he did cheerfully, for he was a good and patriotic 
 king. Theseus made the first distinction of ranks among the 
 people, dividmg them into nobles, farmers, and mechanics. 
 The nobles had the choice of magistrates, the care of laws, 
 and the management of religious rites. The mass was con- 
 sulted in their general assembly on great national questions, 
 though it is not easy to discover what influence they were 
 permitted to exert. 
 
 At the death of Codrus, who devoted himself to death in a 
 battle with the Dorians, on hearing that the Delphic oracle 
 had promised victory to that nation whose king should be 
 
THE AGE OF PEKICLES. 97 
 
 slain, the Athenians determined that no one after him should 
 be allowed the title of king ; and the son of Codrus succeeded 
 him (1070 B. C.) as Archon, or Chief of Athens. The change 
 of title took away much from the power of the office, and the 
 archon was made subservient in a degree to the will of the 
 people. This was the second important step of popular free- 
 dom. Under the archons they continually gained upon the 
 privileged orders, until in 754 B. C. the tei'm of the archon- 
 ship was limited to ten years, another proof of popular ad- 
 vance. Seventy years afterward the term was restrained to 
 one year, and divided among nine free citizens for several 
 generations. A separate jui'isdiction was assigned to each, 
 and they thus acted as checks upon one another. Still the 
 office remained with the few powerful from family or wealth, 
 and the people, becoming weary of their partial decisions, de- 
 manded a written code of laws, or constitution, which should 
 protect while it governed all. To this important work (the 
 formation of the first Constitution of the world, except that 
 given by Heaven to the Jews) Draco was called by the popu- 
 lar voice. His laws, though absurdly severe, and, therefore, 
 counteracting their own authority, kept the State for a time in 
 quiet. But the power of the rich, owing to the high rate of 
 interest, and the right of the creditor to require personal ser- 
 vice of the insolvent debtor, operated strongly against the 
 safety of the people ; and they, aided by the jealous dissen- 
 sions of the rich among themselves, succeeded in appointing 
 the great Solon to the office of constructing a new constitution. 
 His provisions were intended to balance the power of the 
 aristocracy by that of the people. He divided the whole into 
 
 9 
 
98 THE AGE OP PERICLES. 
 
 four classes, according to a census of property. The higher 
 officers were limited to the first class, the lesser to the second 
 and third, while the fourth, Thetes, had a Toice only in the 
 general assembly. But to that general assembly he gave the 
 right of deciding appeals taken from the other courts, which 
 brought the more important causes before them, and so gave 
 to the people an immense influence. A council of five hun- 
 dred, (Solon made it four hundred, but its number was soon 
 increased,) chosen by lot from the several tribes, had a cer- 
 tain previous jurisdiction, and ordered the call of the general 
 assembly. 
 
 The place of holding the assembly was the Pnyx, an ex- 
 tensive, circular, roofless enclosure, a little to the left of the 
 Pirsean gate, remarkable for nothing but its size and antique 
 simplicity, having been built in the time of Theseus. There 
 the democracy of Athens passed their sovereign decrees, after 
 having been addressed by their orators from the Bema, or 
 pulpit of living rock, which commanded the whole multitude, 
 generally from five to six thousand in number. The debates 
 were conducted first by those citizens who were more than 
 fifty years of age, and afterward by any who chose to speak. 
 The question was taken by a show of hands, and the result 
 announced by the chairman, who held the office only one day, 
 and never again. The session was opened by the sacrifice 
 of a black pig to Ceres. 
 
 In addition to these arrangements, Solon fixed the rate of 
 interest at twelve per cent., and made the debtor's person free, 
 but forfeited his goods, except the necessary implements of 
 his trade, for he considered idleness a crime no man should 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 99 
 
 be forced to commit. By an agrarian law, he prohibited an 
 inordinate acquisition of landed estates in any one man's 
 hands, a regulation excusable, if at all, from the narrow extent 
 of the Attic territory. 
 
 Still, liberal as was the constitution of Solon, it was defec- 
 tive in making mere riches the basis of political distinctions, 
 and the jealous factions of the richer families disturbed the 
 State by constant quarrels. 
 
 Thus, about thirty-five years after, Pisistratus, a noble by 
 birth, and a man of the highest talents, raised a party among 
 the populace, and, under pretence of confirming their liber- 
 ties, established himself as Tyrant (another name for king,) 
 of Athens. Notwithstanding the bold means by which he ac- 
 quired power and the hateful title under which he reigned, 
 his rule ■w^as mild, his private life virtuous and pure, by which 
 he won the admiration of his countrymen. He and his son 
 deserve the gratitude of the world, for having first collected 
 and published the scattered books of Homer. He also es- 
 tablished a public library, the first, it is believed, in the world. 
 But the reign of a despot, however clement, was not to be 
 long tolerated, and, after many struggles commenced by Har- 
 modius and Aristogeiton in circumstances very similar to 
 those attending the expulsion of the Tarquins from Rome, 
 the Pisistratidse were driven from Athens forever. 
 
 Chsthenes introduced a new engine of democratic power, 
 called the Ostracism, or vote of shells, by which they paid 
 their great men the compliment of banishing them from Athens, 
 out of fear lest their popularity, like that of Pisistratus, might 
 become dangerous to liberty. K six thousand citizens wrote 
 
100 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 the name of a citizen upon their shells, which they used as 
 ballots, he was exiled for ten years ; a measure of doubtful 
 authority, though it has been approved by Aristotle and Mon- 
 tesquieu. 
 
 The aristocracy still maintained the ascendant until Peri- 
 cles arose, (470 B. C.) and, having obtained the ostracism 
 of Cimon, flattered the people by a great increase of their pow- 
 er. Gifted with extraordinary eloquence, and a mind of 
 great strength, which had been cultivated under the best mas- 
 ters, he soon won the popular confidence. He enlarged the 
 jurisdiction of their courts, paid the people out of the public 
 treasury largely for every service, and pleased them with 
 feasts and spectacles until Athens became in form a democracy, 
 yet was ruled by the will of this one man, who, though he 
 never held any high civil office, continued master of Attica 
 for more than thirty years. Such was the political condition 
 of Athens at the time of which we would speak. 
 
 Serious, and in the end fatal, evils had entwined their ser- 
 pent folds around the liberties of the Athenians. One was 
 their method of deciding important questions on sudden emer- 
 gencies, by popular vote. The selfish cunning of the dema- 
 gogue weighed down the scale against the wisdom of caution 
 and the advice of candor, so that eloquence became, in the esti- 
 mation of the Athenians, the most valuable accomplishment a 
 man could possess. The mischief was greater from the fact 
 that the people were but one State, and not divided, as with 
 us, into sections which might have acted as checks upon each 
 other. The happy expedient of representative delegates 
 would, if it had been adopted by them, have prevented their 
 downfall for a long time. 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 101 
 
 Another great evil was the extent to which servile labor 
 was employed by them. In other States of Greece, it was 
 considered scarcely respectable to live dependent upon the 
 labor of slaves. But in Attica the very reverse opinion pre- 
 vailed. They thought it impossible to have a free govern- 
 ment, or even a household, without slaves. All the handicrafts 
 were, with few exceptions, carried on by slaves. The mines 
 and quarries, and even the land, were worked by them, so that 
 while the entire population of Attica was five hundred thou- 
 sand, the ratio of slaves to the free population was as three to 
 one, or four to one of the citizens. The efifect was on the one 
 hand to increase the consequence of the rich by freeing them 
 from a healthy dependence upon the poor, and on the other to 
 make honest labor less honorable because shared with the 
 slave. The common people, disdaining toil, lounged idly in 
 the public squares, dependent upon the artful bribes of the 
 rich, and ready for any new excitement or tumult. No peo- 
 ple can long maintain a free government where a large major- 
 ity is not of those whose hands are hardened by daily toil, and 
 whose bread is earned by the sweat of their face. 
 
 Similar mischief was produced by the sources of the Athe- 
 nian revenue, derived from the silver mines of Laurion, which, 
 being very extensive, though entirely within the Attic terri- 
 tory, were farmed to great advantage by the State, especially 
 after the time of Themistocles, besides the profit accruing from 
 the application of capital ; from the spoils of victory, which 
 alone filled the treasury to overflowing ; and in the time of 
 Pericles, from the treasure of the confederates for defence 
 against invasion from the East, which was deposited at Athens, 
 9* 
 
102 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 and claimed by the Athenians as their own, because of their 
 superior services. These riches afforded demagogues among 
 them the most dangerous of all powers, that of corrupting the 
 people hy their own money. Indeed, all wealth which is not 
 that legitimate reward of labor corrupts, but never advances, 
 the true prosperity of a nation ; and it would seem from the 
 experience of all nations, that a government is liable to be per- 
 verted in precise proportion as the means of maintaining it are 
 not taken directly from the pockets of the people themselves. 
 The establishment of colonies, (over which the mother 
 country held a strong hand,) and the extension of territory by 
 conquest, inflated the pride of the people, increased their bane- 
 ful because too easy wealth, and involved them with mischiev- 
 ous wars and more mischievous alliances. Far-sighted, even 
 beyond his ordinary sagacity, was that counsel of our coun- 
 try's father, who dissuaded from the lust of conquest, and gave 
 us the maxim : " Friendship with all nations, alliance with 
 none." The fate of Athens is but one of many proofs that the 
 Eternal Lawgiver, who decrees 
 
 " That where guilt is 
 
 Sorrow must answer it," 
 
 has also determined, that they who encroach upon the liber- 
 ties of others shall lose their own. 
 
 The state of morals at the same time was very bad, far 
 worse than the partial judgment of their historians admits it 
 to have been. The progress of philosophy, especially through 
 the teaching of Anaxagoras and his greater pupil, Socrates, 
 the best of all the ancients, had shaken the faith of the educa- 
 
THE AGE OP PEKICLES. 103 
 
 ted classes in the popular religion, without establishing a bet- 
 ter in its place ; while the great mass of the people, supersti- 
 tiously zealous for the worship of their impure gods, only- 
 evinced greater impurity. 
 
 The best test of a social condition is the place which women 
 hold in it ; and there is unfortunately much uncertainty res- 
 pecting the condition of Athenian women. Some writers con- 
 sider them as having been generally degraded as to charac- 
 ter and influence. Others claim more for them than they de- 
 serve. We hold a middle opinion. That there were virtu- 
 ous and high-minded women among the Athenians, no one 
 ought to doubt who has read the beautiful descriptions of 
 female character which JEschylus and Sophocles, and even 
 the woman-hater, Euripides, presented on the stage amidst 
 the acclamations of the theatre. The exquisite affections, 
 which sanctify the heart of woman for her offices as wife and 
 mother, could not have been lost, and must have been felt by 
 the husband and the son ; and the dramatists delight in pic- 
 tures of filial devotion and a sister's love. One cannot doubt 
 that the Alcestis, and the Clytemnestra of the Iphigenia in 
 Aulis, Iphigenia herself, Antigone and Electra, must have 
 been modeled from real examples. More delightful exhibi- 
 tions of woman's tenderness, constancy and devotion cannot 
 be found out of the Christian school. It might be shown that 
 Shakspeare himself was in some manner a copyist of these 
 types of moral beauty. In the story of Hamlet there are 
 strong coincidences, to say the least, with that of Orestes, and, 
 in your lecturer's judgment, the sister of Orestes has far more 
 dramatic purity than even Opheha brain-fevered for her lover. 
 
104 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 The daughter of CEdipus wears the same features, that we 
 admire and bless in the faithful child of Lear. If we read of 
 Agamemnon's murderous wife, or of the Colchian Medea, so 
 do we of Hamlet's mother and the blood-stained Lady Mac- 
 beth. Still it must be owned that the name of not a single 
 woman of the age of Pericles remarkable for her virtues, has 
 reached us, though Theodota and Aspasia, and others as cor- 
 rupt, are known to us all. No doubt, had the women been 
 the historians, the tables might have been turned. 
 
 The women of the lower orders were notoriously dissolute ; 
 and it is diflScult to suppose that the virtue of any could have 
 been strictly preserved, when from their tender years they 
 were made to join in the most corrupting religious ceremonies, 
 bearing emblems and listening to chants which were vile in 
 the extreme, though called sacred. It is absurd to say that, 
 because religion is necessary to humanity, a false religion, so 
 gross as that which deified Bacchus, Venus, and Mercury, to 
 say nothing of the rest of the abandoned denizens of Olympus, 
 could be otherwise than corrupting. 
 
 The respectable Athenian women remained mostly, though 
 not so strictly as is generally supposed, within the secluded 
 apartments of their houses, poorly educated, if at all. They 
 rarely went abroad, and still more rarely persuaded their un- 
 easy democrats of husbands to remain at home, when there 
 were so many festivals and processions, and political meetings 
 to attend, and the benign climate encouraged them to lounge 
 in the gates or market places, asking and telling the news, 
 which every day brought. On the other hand, many foreign 
 women, whose trade was sin, with their fascinations increased 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 105 
 
 by mental accomplishments, like the far-famed A?pasia, re- 
 ceived open attention and gallantry, offered without shame, 
 or seeming sense of wrong, from the most distinguished citi- 
 zens, and even the wisest men. This was a state of things 
 likely, above all others, to put contempt upon virtue, and en- 
 courage the practice of vice. The moral power of home, the 
 refining influence of chaste female mind, the ennobling ambi- 
 tion of winning the favor of virtuous women by virtuous acts, 
 were almost unknown at Athens. The morals of society were 
 rotten at the core. The reader would be only shocked were 
 the reality unveiled further ; but it is right that we should 
 know, and that our women should know, how poor, beside the 
 domestic peace and morals of Christianity, was the best refine- 
 ment of Heathen life ; that our women should feel how much 
 they owe to the influence of the Gospel for their most common 
 privileges ; and that our men should confess how important an 
 agency female character is destined to exert under the 
 Evangelical system. 
 
 What idea the Athenians had of female excellence may be 
 learned from a funeral oration, attributed to Pericles by Thu- 
 cydides. After praising the Athenian people in a very ex- 
 travagant manner, and comforting the sons and brothers of 
 the slain warriors, the only notice that he takes of their wid- 
 ows is to advise them " to behave themselves in such a man- 
 ner that the men may have no occasion to talk about them, Ul 
 or well." From other writers of the same period, we learn 
 that they were remarkable only for anything else but a pas- 
 sion for keeping great numbers of rare birds. There was also 
 an old law on their books forbidding a woman going upon a 
 
106 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 journey, to carry with her any more baggage than a hand- 
 basket. This law could not have been strictly enforced, for 
 we see by the works of art which have come down to us that 
 it was impossible for women to be more elegantly, though too 
 scantily, draped. "We must not, however, infer from the same 
 authority that the Attic women were handsome, though the 
 men were. The beauties of Athens were, with few excep- 
 tions, from the islands. 
 
 Such, alas ! was the state of morals at Athens in the time 
 of Pericles, the sure precursor of her decay. Yet the power 
 of Athens was at this time almost incredibly great. The walls 
 of the city were twenty-two miles in circumference ; but they 
 included the Pelasgicum, a space about the Acropolis uninhab- 
 ited from superstitious motives, much other waste land, and 
 heights with precipitous sides. The number of her free citi- 
 zens could have been at no period more than between twenty 
 and twenty-five thousand. There were, however, large num- 
 bers of foreigners permitted to reside there for purposes of 
 trade, on paying a certain tax. These may, with the floating 
 population of mai'iners and others, have amounted to some 
 sixty thousand ; the rest of the five hundred thousand inhabi- 
 tants, we have already seen, were slaves. Yet was she supe- 
 rior to all the rest of Greece, and her sway extended over 
 millions of people. Certainly, no other nation so small has 
 produced so many generals, poets, orators, philosophers, and 
 statesmen, worthy of undying fame. 
 
 Let us now turn to the more pleasing view of her arts and 
 letters. 
 
 . The time we choose for this, is that between the yeai's 440 
 
THE AGE OP PERICLES. 107 
 
 and 436 B. C. Pericles had then been for more than twenty 
 years at the head of affairs, and during nearly the whole time 
 exerting his great influence and taste to encourage the liberal 
 Arts and to embellish the city. For this purpose he freely 
 used the treasure of the allies, which he transferred from 
 Delos to Athens, asserting that as the Athenians had driven 
 off the Persians, they had a right to the funds contributed for 
 the war. The abundance and beauty of the Pentelican mar- 
 ble, quarried at but a small distance from the city, greatly 
 facilitated his designs ; without it, indeed, their execution 
 would have been impracticable. Yet with all these advantages, 
 we cannot choose but wonder that art, which was itself in in- 
 fancy when Pericles was in his cradle, could so quickly have 
 attained an excellence which has since received the admiration 
 of the world. 
 
 The Athenian people strongly seconded the efforts of Peri- 
 cles to beautify their city, now doubly dear because once lost 
 by invasion, and, as they fondly thought, doubly secured by 
 the Persian defeat. The artist was encouraged to put forth 
 his best skill for the gratification of their passionate wish, and 
 during the lull of peace ambition sougPit that fame, which was 
 no longer to be won upon the sea or the battle-field, in the 
 graceful triumphs of art and letters. The Athenians crowned 
 not only the victorious general or naval commander, but also 
 the poet, the architect, the historian, the musician, painter and 
 sculptor. 
 
 The Acropolis was most dear to Athenian pride. It was a 
 precipitous rock distant several miles from the Piraeus, rising 
 to the height of a hundred and fifty feet, accessible only on the 
 
108 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 western side, and there by a sharp acdivity. The summit 
 was nearly plane, about a thousand feet long, and in no part 
 more than five hundred feet wide. Upon it and around it 
 were clustered the richest and most numerous treasures of 
 Athenian skill and magnificence, for it was sacred by a thou- 
 sand associations, religious and patriotic. It was the first 
 object that the home-bound mariner saw as he turned the Cape 
 of Sunium, and there, like ^geus the father of Theseus, were 
 the Athenians wont to ascend and look for the expected fleet 
 with omens of victory. From its western height they saw 
 spread around and beneath them their proud city, with its 
 mighty walls reaching the harbor, where lay awaiting a sum- 
 mons to conflict and victory their multitude of many-banked 
 galleys. Thence they looked on Salamis, whose shores were 
 once washed red with the blood of their enemies, and by turn- 
 ing their glance, they saw winding over the mountain the road 
 to Marathon, and the more distant Platea. No wonder they 
 adorned that height, and invoked the genii of painting, sculp- 
 ture and architecture to enrich the decoration. 
 
 On the western cliff, at the enti-ance of the platform, stood 
 the Propylon, or the Portico, the work of Mnesicles the archi- 
 tect. It was of the purest Pentelican marble, which in its 
 ruins to this day spai'kles like snow on which a golden sunbeam 
 has fallen. Its fronts, eastern and western, were each sixty 
 feet broad, with six fluted Doric columns, twenty-nine feet 
 high, supporting a noble pediment adorned by most exquisite 
 sculptures, and enriched by a profusion of golden and painted 
 decorations. On the western side there are two projections 
 or wings, with three columns each. The sacred processions 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 109 
 
 passed through the columns of the Propylsea, there being on 
 either side of the chariot-way a grand flight of steps. On 
 either side stood a building. That on the right was the tem- 
 ple of Victory, whose statue was wingless, in memory of the 
 fatal mistake of Theseus, who forgot to announce his victory 
 by hoisting a white sail as he came round Sunium, and thus 
 caused the suicide of his father ; or as some say from the 
 proud notion of the Athenians that victory would never leave 
 their citadel. This building had four Ionic columns on its 
 outer and three on its inner front, and its frieze presented 
 sculptures of the battle of Marathon. That on the left was 
 the Poecile, the walls of which were occupied with historical 
 paintings by Polygnotus. 
 
 About three hundred feet from the Propylon was the match- 
 less Parthenon, or temple of the Virgin Minerva, the pride 
 of Greece, the glory of architecture, and the admiration of 
 all succeeding ages. It stood, or i-ather stands, for though in 
 ruins, the classic pilgrim may still admire its beauty and la- 
 ment its decay, upon an elevation sufficient to give its perfect 
 proportions full display, without the artifice of a high basement, 
 by which so many of our buildings are lifted up to view. 
 But three steps sufficed to enter upon its platform. The 
 whole building stood upon the ground about 227 feet in length, 
 by 101 in breadth, and in height to the top of its pediment 66 
 feet. It had eight fluted Doric columns on each front, and 
 seventeen on each side, six feet in diameter and thirty-four in 
 height. Within each front range was a second screen of col- 
 umns, five feet and a half in diameter, forming a vestibule to 
 the lofty door, to which there was an ascent of two steps. 
 10 
 
110 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 Each pediment contained a span eighty feet wide, which was 
 filled with sculpture of colossal groups, that on the westeni 
 side representing the contest of Minerva and Neptune for the 
 tutelary rule of Athens, and that on the other the birth of 
 Minerva, full grown and full armed, from the head of Jupiter. 
 There were nearly twenty figures in each. Each metope (the 
 space between the triglyphs, or the grooved ornaments repre- 
 senting the extremities of the ancient rafters) of which there 
 were ninety-two in number, a little more than four feet square, 
 described by figures in alto relievo various scenes, battles of 
 the Amazons, struggles of Centaurs and Lapithae, or exploits 
 of early Athenians ; and on the continuous frieze along the in- 
 ner fronts was seen the crowd of a Panathenaic procession. 
 These figures, most of them seen at the height of forty feet, 
 are worthy of intense praise, whether considered as groups or 
 single figures. The ancient critics were unbounded in their 
 admiration of them, and the moderns are justified by the re- 
 mains in the Elgin collection if they agree with the suf- 
 frage of antiquity. Theinterior of the Parthenon was divided 
 into two compartments, the smaller of which was the Opis- 
 ihodome, or treasure-house, of Athens, and the larger the 
 peculiar shrine of the virgin goddess where stood her lofty 
 statue. The proud grandeur of the whole, and the exquisite 
 beauty of its detail, require the genius of an architect and the 
 pen of a poet to describe them. It has ever been the study 
 of the emulous architect, content to imitate, but never dream- 
 ing of excelling the work of far antiquity. 
 
 Such was the temple that crowned the Acropolis. It was 
 the shrine of virgin Truth, and its Pentelican was white as 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. Ill 
 
 snow new fallen to earth. It was the shrine of deified Wis- 
 dom, simple in harmonious purity and massive in majestic 
 strength. It was the shrine of female excellence, and its 
 Doric proportions were moulded with scarcely less than mas- 
 culine vigor yet feminine grace. So plastic did the marble 
 seem to have been beneath the chisel, that it was as though 
 the goddess had descended from the sky with a spotless cloud 
 about her, and when she reached the spot she would conse- 
 crate, it had gently sunk into the form her celestial taste had 
 chosen, and with a touch of her Gorgon aegis she had turned 
 it into stone. Yet not before the gigantic shapes of gods had 
 started forth in crowded grandeur on its fronts, the multitude 
 of worshipers in graceful confusion rushed along its archi- 
 traves, the infuriate but beautiful Amazon struggled fighting 
 with victorious Greeks, and the Centaurs combining in won- 
 derful anatomy the trunk and limbs of the wai'-horse with the 
 other parts of man, resisted vainly with trampling hoof and 
 bloody spear the vengeful Lapithge, rising in wrath from the 
 dishonored banquet. 
 
 There were other buildings on the Acropolis, but as they 
 were replaced by those of more modern date we need not 
 speak of them. Near its south-eastern base the splendid 
 taste of Pericles displayed itself in the Odeon, or Concert 
 House, and the Theatre of Bacchus, which he completed and 
 adorned. The Odeon was built with the fantastic, though not 
 ungraceful, design of imitating the tent of Xerxes, surmounted 
 by a circular roof which was constructed with the spars of the 
 Persian ships taken at Salamis. The Theatre, or Temple of 
 Bacchus, was semicircular, and capable of containing thirty 
 
112 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 thousand spectators, being built against the side of the Acro- 
 polis, and with ranges of seats hewn out of the rock, around 
 the concavity, rising above each other as they receded from 
 the centre. Ancient authors however give us a much better 
 idea of its interior than of its external architecture. 
 
 Other buildings, built shortly before or after the time of 
 Pericles, might claim our attention ; but those we have briefly 
 described will give some faint idea of the perfection and splen- 
 dor to which Athenian architecture was brought by the ener- 
 gy and genius of that extraordinary man, aided by Phidias, 
 Mnesicles, Ictinus and Callicrates. We wonder the more 
 when we consider the short time which sufficed for the con- 
 struction of these prodigies of magnificence and skill; the 
 Parthenon having been completed in less than fifteen years, 
 the Propylsea in still less, and all in twenty-five. 
 
 Sculpture rivaled architecture in rapidity of improvement, 
 or rather they went hand in hand. Phidias, in his daring 
 and colossal genius, left his predecessors by rapid strides far 
 behind. His statue of Minerva, in the Parthenon, was, with 
 its pedestal, forty feet high, yet, notwithstanding its size, so 
 anxious was he to excel in the fineness of its execution, that 
 he wrought it of ivory upon a frame of wood, but so curious- 
 ly, that it seemed to be one entire piece, exquisitely polished. 
 
 The robe of the goddess was of beaten gold, in value at 
 least 550,000 dollars, and made in such a way that it might 
 be removed at pleasure, as it was when Phidias, having been 
 accused of purloining some of the precious metal allowed him 
 for the purpose, weighed it before the assembly of the people. 
 In her right hand stood a statue of Victory, six feet high, and 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 113 
 
 her left supported a spear. Her helmet, her breast-plate and 
 sandals and girdle were covered with emblematic figures, and 
 the immense ^gis at her side with the battles of the Amazons. 
 
 Yet wonderful as this statue was, another, from the hand 
 of the same master, excelled it in grandeur, the Minerva Po- 
 lias, cast in bronze, from the spoils of Marathon, the height 
 of which was so great that the mariner on doubling Sunium 
 (a distance of forty miles) saw the top of her helmet and 
 spear, as she sat in the open translucent air on the Acropolis. 
 Another Minerva, by Phidias also, in bronze, and on the 
 Acropolis, sent as a present to Athens by the Lemnians, ex- 
 celled both in beauty ; while a statue of Jupiter Olympius, at 
 Elis, of gold and ivory, is said by the voice of antiquity to 
 have been the master work of all. These were only a few of 
 his works, for Phidias excelled as much in rapidity of execu- 
 tion as in the originality, vastness and beauty of his concep- 
 tions. His skill, being not only in marble, but in castings and 
 ivory, shows a combination of talent, giving him undisputed 
 eminence over every other sculptor, ancient or modern. 
 
 As might be inferred, when sculpture had reached such 
 perfection, painting had made no small advances. It is true, 
 that, being ignorant of oil as a vehicle, and also of many means 
 of coloring, the ancient painter enjoyed far fewer advantages 
 than the modern, yet we have good reason to believe that the 
 artists about the time of Pericles were eminently successful 
 in their exhibition of the grand and the beautiful. It cannot 
 have been, that those who had before them the sculptures of 
 Phidias would have lavished such praises upon his brethren 
 of the pencil, had they been ill-deserved. The taste, which 
 10* 
 
114 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 was SO highly cultivated by the one art, would not have been 
 satisfied by poverty in the other. Indeed, such compositions 
 as we know were produced by them could not have been exe- 
 cuted without much practical knowledge of perspective and 
 coloring. 
 
 Panaeus, the brother of Phidias, adorned the sculptor's 
 works with his pencil ; for, however repugnant to modem 
 taste, they did sometimes paint the eyes and countenance and 
 drapery of statues, as they painted and gilded their architec- 
 ture. Polygnotus (who might be called the Michael Angelo 
 of that day in painting) described, on the walls of the Poecile, 
 the forms of heroes with such grandeur of outline and ex- 
 pression, that his men were said to look like gods ; and he 
 lived afterward, by a vote of the Amphictyonic Council, as 
 guest of all Greece. His style must have been very bold, 
 simple and pure. Zeuxis and Parrhasius were both very 
 young at the time of Pericles ; but they soon became as fa- 
 mous for coloring and moral expression as Polygnotus had 
 been for vigor of outline. 
 
 Lucian describes a picture by Zeuxis, in which he repre- 
 sented a female Centaur and her young, whUe the father 
 playfully holds up a lion's cub to frighten his offspring ; and 
 another of Jupiter in full assembly of the gods. No one can 
 doubt that great ability in the execution of such conceptions 
 must have been displayed to make them worthy of the 'praise 
 bestowed upon them. So highly valued were the pictures of 
 Zeuxis, that he became one of the richest men of his day, and 
 refused to paint any longer for money. In the earlier part of 
 his life he exhibited some of his pictures, at least his Helen, 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 115 
 
 for a certain admission price, which, or the large sum he 
 gained by it, excited the anger of his brother artists, and led 
 them to bestow upon his picture a not very enviable name. 
 It was, undoubtedly, the first instance of such an exhibition. 
 
 Parrhasius, whom Horace designates as " ille liquidis colori- 
 bus," was probably yet more finished in his coloring. He is 
 said to have had the skill so rare, which Correggio possessed, 
 of losing the contours of his forms, so as to give the idea of 
 roundness without making the defining line too distinct. But 
 with the grace of Correggio, and the coloring of Titian, he 
 had (alas !) the licentious taste of the latter, and it is not much 
 to his credit, that one of his pictures was the chief favorite of 
 a Roman Caesar most notorious for his vile tastes. 
 
 Of the music of the Greeks, at this period, we know but 
 little. The whole subject is involved in great obscurity. 
 Great attention was paid to it by aU the Greeks from the 
 most remote antiquity, and it was considered both as an ele- 
 gant accomplishment, and, for its moral effects, an essential 
 part of education. The people paid high honor to the best 
 performers, and the magnificent Odeon, erected for musical 
 entertainments, shows their fondness for such refined enjoy- 
 ment. They recognized quarter tones in their scale, and 
 seem to have had remarkable delicacy of ear. Their instru- 
 ments, though they spent great pains in their construction, 
 were poor, and would not allow of such harmonies as those 
 with which our modern masters ravish and overpower our de- 
 lighted sense. Their vocal performances were probably in a 
 nicely modulated recitative; and, indeed, their plays must 
 have resembled the modern opera, not only in the choruses 
 
116 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 and ballets, which were produced with great care and ex- 
 pense, but also in the speaking parts of the drama. 
 
 The drama of the Athenians is worthy of notice from the 
 moralist as well as the scholar. Perhaps a few remarks may 
 interest all our readers. 
 
 The origin of the drama is found in the worship of Bac- 
 chus ; who, though vulgarly known to us as the God of Wine, 
 was a deity of much higher pretensions, being thought to 
 preside over production generally. The hymns or songs 
 sung in his honor were of a very serious and dignified char- 
 acter, and being originally extemporaneous, the best improvi- 
 sation on the occasion received a goat as the prize. Hence 
 the word Tragedy, or song of the goat. Other songs in the 
 merry-makings which followed among the vintagers, who of- 
 ten disguised themselves as Satyrs, would be characterized by 
 rustic wit and personalities. Hence came the word Comedy, 
 or song of the village, and also satire. Gradually, both tra- 
 gedy and comedy obtained a more regulated character, and 
 assumed the form in which they have reached us, by the ge- 
 nius of the great dramatic authors we have named and their 
 followers. 
 
 The writer is far from agreeing with those who think the 
 modem drama a good school of morals. K it be so, it has 
 had very few good scholars. But, it ought to be remembered 
 that at a time when there were neither schools nor teachers, 
 nor journals, nor methods for multiplying books, such as we 
 possess, for the people at large, the drama furnished, in the 
 absence of better means, an opportunity, almost the only one, 
 of impressing the multitude with lessons of virtue, familiar 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 117 
 
 and public ; and the tragic writers of the Greeks are emi- 
 nently pure and elevated in their sentiments. There is not a 
 line in them all which ought to brighten the bloom of a mod- 
 est cheek. But all the wit of their comedies cannot reconcile 
 us to their grossness and scurrility. The consequence was, 
 that the magistrates, as guardians of public morals, greatly 
 encouraged tragic representations, but were anxious to sup- 
 press the dangerous freedom of the farce, which, however, 
 they found difficult to do. (It was suppressed for some years 
 about the time of which we speak.) For the reasons given, 
 the Temple of Bacchus became the theatre in which the 
 dramatists exhibited their pieces, at great personal expense, 
 to gain the applause of their countrymen. A small price was 
 charged for admission, but Pericles caused the tickets to be 
 paid for out of the public treasury. 
 
 The theatre was, as we have seen, capable of containing at 
 the least thirty thousand spectators. It was semi-circular in 
 form, the straight line presenting the stage. The scenery, 
 though seldom changed, was provided at great cost, and was 
 very effective. They had nearly all the machinery of modern 
 theatres, with pulleys to let down or hoist up their deities, and 
 trap-doors for ghosts and furies to issue from. They made 
 thunder by rattling bladders filled with stones upon sheets of 
 metal, and lightning by flashing torches from the side scenes. 
 There were never more (legitimately) than three principal 
 performers on the stage at a time. Thespis introduced one, 
 distinct from the chorus, ^schylus two, Sophocles a third. 
 The actors had their stature artificially heightened by boots, 
 called cothurni, and their stuffed dresses enlarged their size 
 
118 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 correspondingly. They also wore large masks and artificial 
 curls ; so that, altogether, their figures were colossal, to pro- 
 duce a proper eflTect upon the more distant spectators. These 
 masks were artificially contrived to increase the sound of the 
 voice ; to which also the shape of the stage contributed, and 
 there were beside hollow jars arranged in a graduated scale, 
 which swelled the sound by reverberation. From the name 
 Hypocrita, or interlocutor, given to the actors, has come our 
 modern term intimating deception. 
 
 Beside the principal actors, it is well known that there was 
 a chorus, (originally signifying persons dancing, or moving to 
 music,) composed of men and boys, (females were not allowed 
 to act in the drama,) who, in a chanted recitation and alterna- 
 tion of responses, kept up the thread of the plots for the audi- 
 ence. But this chorus never, or at least very rarely, ap- 
 peared on the stage. They occupied a sort of pit between 
 the stage and the audience, called the orchestra, about which 
 they moved in a species of descriptive ballet, as they observed 
 the performance of the actors, or turned to the audience as 
 they filled up the pauses of the dialogue or trilogue with their 
 modulated recitation. 
 
 These exhibitions were very popular at Athens, and oc- 
 curred several times in the year, but always in daylight. 
 Some writers have asserted that women were not allowed to 
 attend these exhibitions, but that is a mistake. We know of 
 several instances of their being in the theatre, particularly 
 one, when ^schylus brought at least fifty furies rushing on 
 the stage, whose appearance frightened many women and chil- 
 dren seriously, in consequence of which the number of that 
 chorus was reduced by law 
 
THE AGE OF PEKICLES. 119 
 
 Let us suppose ourselves to have entered the theatre, du- 
 ring a representation, about the time of which we are treating, 
 and we may discover many among the audience whose names 
 are familiar to us by history. 
 
 There, closely watching the performance, is one of low stat- 
 ure, whose anxious countenance is indicative rather of genius 
 than high birth. It is Euripides, whose play of Medea is now 
 on the stage. Near him sits another, evidently intent upon 
 the performance with pleasure, whose handsome countenance 
 has acquired dignity and serenity from years. It is his gene- 
 rous rival, Sophocles. On the other side is a friend of Eu- 
 ripides, to whose assistance, it is more than suspected, the play 
 owes much of its success. His face a mere physiognomist 
 might condemn, but his head to the eye of a phrenologist shows 
 great thought, benevolence and veneration. It is Socrates, as 
 yet in the prime of life. That venerable man, whom the peo- 
 ple regard with such respect, is Herodotus, and by his side sits 
 Thucydides, with severe but youthful brow, emulous of his 
 fame, but soon to exceed it as the master historian of the world. 
 That noble personage, surrounded by troops of friends, and 
 remarkable for his brow like Jove, and the length of his head, 
 which also rises to a point, (so that old Cratinus says he car- 
 ries the Odeon on it,) is Pericles himself. There seems a 
 slight but very beautiful boy by his side, wrapped in a close 
 mantle ; it is the Milesian Aspasia, who has assumed such a 
 disguise, because women of fashion are not presumed to at- 
 tend the theatre. The young, handsome dandy behind, with 
 the dashing robe and Apollo curls, is the young Alcibiades, 
 very clever, very rich, and very much of a roue. He, not so 
 
120 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 young, but as much of an exquisite, who is whispering with 
 curled lips some caustic joke into his ear, is Aristophanes, the 
 most perfect master of the Greek language, the most unscru- 
 pulous satirist, and the best punster ever known. There, too, 
 is a crowd of artists, honorably seated in reward of their ge- 
 nius ; but you will look in vain among them for Phidias. He 
 has been banished, with his teacher Anaxagoras, on a false 
 charge of treason, and is now at Elis, revenging himself upon 
 ungrateful Athens, by the execution of his Jupiter Olympius, 
 the greatest work of antiquity. 
 
 The catalogue cannot be completed here. These were but 
 a few of the Athenian names which gave glory to the Age of 
 Pericles, and are yet written high on the pillars of fame. 
 
 The scenes of all this splendor have long since passed away. 
 The beautiful sky and the clear atmosphere are still there. 
 Time has dealt kindly with the artists' trophies, not daring 
 even to dim the sparkling purity of the marble hallowed by 
 the chisel of Mnesicles and Phidias. But the Goth and the 
 Venetian and the Turk have been more cruel, and the Briton 
 most cruel of all. English gold bought the sacrilegious privi- 
 lege of wrenching from metopse, frieze and pediment, what 
 time and the barbarian had spared. The turbaned representa- 
 tive of Moslem oppression dropped a tear as the last image of 
 all those beautiful creations was torn from the wall upon which, 
 with its companions of superhuman beauty, it had seemed to 
 live for more than two thousand years. " TeXog !" exclaimed 
 the Disdar Aga of Athens, as he saw it fall, from the very 
 spot where the Olympian may have stood to admire his fin- 
 ished monument of Athenian skill, magnificence and taste. 
 
THE AGE OF PERICLES. 121 
 
 The shattered forms of that immortal dream of genius, which 
 Callicrates and Ictinus had translated into living Pentelican, 
 are now ranged along the mean walls of a sombre gallery, in 
 smoky, misty London, never again to reflect from their spark- 
 ling snow the sun of Greece, which had smiled upon them in 
 cherishing love. The Parthenon, like Niobe in her stony and 
 majestic wo, throws the shadow of her desolation over the dust 
 of the glory of Greece. Athens lies prostrate on the Attic 
 shore, dishonored, broken, stained by the foot of the spoiler, 
 and blackened by the torch, yet retaining in each insulted fea- 
 ture, each fractured limb, each fold of drapery, a dignity, 
 serenity and grace, that win admiring wonder for her bygone 
 loveliness, and tears for her decay. 
 
 " He who hath bent him o'er the dead, 
 Ere the first day of death is fled, 
 The first dark day of nothingness. 
 The last of danger and distress ; 
 Before decay's eff"acing fingers 
 Have swept the lines where beauty lingers, 
 And marked the mild, angelic air, 
 The rapture of repose that's there. 
 The fixed yet tender traits that streak 
 The languor of that pallid cheek ; — 
 And but for that sad, shrouded eye, 
 That fires not, wins not, weeps not now. 
 And but for that chill, changeless brow, 
 Where ' cold obstruction's' apathy 
 Appals the gazing mourner's heart, 
 As if to him it would impart 
 The doom he dreads yet dwells upon, — 
 Some moments, aye, a treacherous hour, 
 11 
 
122 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 He still might doubt the tyrant's power, 
 So fair, so calm, so softly sealed, 
 The first, last look by death revealed. 
 
 Such is the aspect of that show, 
 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more. 
 So coldly sweet, so deadly fair 
 We start, for soul is wanting there — 
 Hers is the loveliness of death, 
 That parts not with the parting breath, 
 But beauty with that fearful bloom. 
 The hue which haunts it to the tomb, 
 A halo circling round decay. 
 Expression's last receding ray. 
 The farewell beam of feeling past away, 
 Spark of that flame, perchance of heavenly birth, 
 "Which gleams but warms no more its cherished earth. 
 Clime of the unforgotten brave. 
 Whose land from shore to mountain-cave, 
 Was Freedom's home or Glory's grave. 
 Shrine of the mighty, can it be 
 That this is all remains of thee !" 
 
 Yet there is a light now falling softly and sweetly upon 
 prostrate Athens — not the dying ray of mortal genius, but 
 the breaking Hght of heaven-sent hope. There is a lamp 
 burning within that mournful sepulchre, the Word of Life and 
 Immortality, held forth by the hand of American piety, and 
 fed by the zeal of American Christians. Under the shadow 
 of the Acropolis humble missionaries of the cross, from this 
 western land, tell the children of those who wandered through 
 the groves of the academy, or lingered around the teacher of 
 
THE AGE OP PERICLES. 123 
 
 the porch, that the Just Man of Plato hath come ; that Divine 
 Virtue, in all the sympathies of human trial and duty, has 
 passed triumphant by the ordeal he proposed, of contempt and 
 slander, the scourge and the cross ; that the Master whom 
 Socrates promised to the young Alcibiades, as the guide in the 
 path of prayer that leads to heaven, is now the Intercessor 
 and Advocate of all earth's supplicants, and that " the Un- 
 known God, whom their fathers ignorantly worshiped," is now 
 made manifest by the faith of Jesus. The young Athenians, 
 in a school where the lisping child is wiser than the best an- 
 cient that ever grew hoary in the love of wisdom, recite the 
 words of Jesus in the sonorous accents of Demosthenes and 
 Lysias, or chant their Christian hymns in the liquid measures 
 of Alcaeus and Pindar, amid the ruins which once echoed to 
 the boisterous Phallic and the thundering Dithyramb. 
 
 How poor, is the art and fame of Phidias beside those hum- 
 ble missionaries, as they mould immortal mind in the image 
 of the Son of God, refine its beauty to adorn the inner shrine 
 of heaven, and bring down by far reaching prayer fire from 
 the skies to animate their work ! How feeble are the glories 
 of the Theseon and the Parthenon beside the temple they are 
 building of living stones, hewn and polished from the quarry 
 of ignorance and sin, and " built upon the foundation of apos- 
 tles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner 
 stone," " for an habitation of God through the Spirit." The 
 Pentelican and the Parian shall crumble amid the fires of the 
 final change, the shrine-capt hills sink beneath the flood of 
 Time's last destiny, but then shall that temple stand upon the 
 Zion of God imperishable, and radiating eternal glory. 
 
124 THE AGE OF PERICLES. 
 
 Beautiful Religion ! which, kneeling before the cross and 
 the altar, feels the "outrushing inspiration of love for the souls 
 of distant and unknown men, and clasps in the faith of broth- 
 erhood those upon whose faces we have never looked; which 
 converts the price of selfish and useless luxuries into riches of 
 wisdom for the poor in knowledge ; which goes forth with a 
 martyr's heroism to win victories of mercy over ransomed 
 minds ; which pursues its triumphal way to the heavenly gate, 
 surrounded and followed, not by bloody trophies and chained 
 captives, but by thankful penitents, widows smiling in their 
 sackcloth, orphans rosy with joy, and heathen blessing the 
 name of Jesus ! "What have Arms, Arts, Letters, Philosophy 
 like this ? Would that this religion sanctified and ennobled 
 us all ! 
 
 Lovely wert thou, Athens, in thy classic grace ! The very 
 dust of thy marbles is precious in our eyes, for the feet of 
 those have walked upon it who have been the friends of pleas- 
 ant hours in the morning dream, or when the midnight lamp 
 shed its light upon the yellow page their genius made vocal 
 with thought and the melody of numbers. But thine was the 
 beauty of a sepulchre, for the corruption was deep within 
 thee. Fain would we turn the eyes of aU who read this story 
 of Athens, to gaze, in hope of an inheritance within it, upon 
 that city of God, built for his people, beautiful as love, lasting 
 as immortality, and holy as Himself ! 
 
AN 
 
 ORATION 
 
 THE PHILOMATHEAN SOCIETY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA, 
 
 NOVEMBER 30th, 1840. 
 
 PUBLISHED AT THEIR REQUEST. 
 
 11* 
 
ORATION. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Members of the Philomathean Society 
 
 of the University of Pennsylvania, 
 It was a happy inspiration which first suggested the de- 
 livery of these addresses. Happy it must be for you thus to 
 be assured of sympathy from your elder brothers in study, 
 and happy, I am sure, for us, who, covered with the dust of 
 crowded thoroughfares, and worn with the burdens of public 
 duty, are permitted to separate ourselves, though but for a 
 brief hour, from the busy people, and retire again under the 
 cool shades of academic life. We may not be allowed to say 
 that we envy you your fresh spirits and classic exercitations, 
 for it were unmanly and unchristian to shrink, even in 
 thought, from the offices which God and our fellow-men re- 
 quire at our hands, and sobriety of zeal best becomes them ; 
 but you cannot know, until you have felt it, the zest with 
 which memory turns in after hfe to our growing years, and 
 the intellectual Palaestra, where by generous emulation we 
 trained the sinews of our youthful minds, and warmed the 
 courage of our hearts for the serious struggles of active man- 
 hood. To some of us the retrospect is sad ; not that the days 
 
128 ORATION. 
 
 of our youth are gone by ; it is the lot of mortals to change 
 and pass away ; but that we availed ourselves so little of the 
 fair occasions and rich opportunities which have gone with 
 them. The time is yet yours when you may sow in hope. 
 We are already gathering our harvest, and its scantiness too 
 keenly convinces us, that the regrets and labors of later life 
 can but poorly make up for the neglects of youth. 
 
 It is in youth that the rudiments of knowledge must be laid 
 deep within us, for which Kttle time can be spared from the 
 necessities of actual application. The proper purpose of edu- 
 cation is not to acquaint the young mind with all that can be 
 known ; for the searching soul shall never cease learning in 
 this life or the immortality which is to come ; but to call forth 
 its nascent powers, and furnishing the clew and methods by 
 which inquiry may be wisely and most profitably pursued, to 
 impel them on to the pursuit. The man, without such an 
 advantage, however studiously he may be inclined, is like one 
 entering a vast library stored full of the best treatises and de- 
 monstrations, yet having no catalogue by which to discover 
 the volumes that contain the science he seeks. Uneducated 
 genius may accomplish much from its innate impulsiveness 
 and foresight ; but none can tell how much more it might 
 have accomplished under the direction of sober rule ; and the 
 world has great reason to mourn over the time, the energy, 
 and the paper, which has been worse than wasted by gifted 
 men in the revival of exploded errors, and the assertion of 
 crude though perhaps dazzhng hypotheses. But for such, 
 man might have been ever going on in the way of truth, in- 
 stead of wandering so often after ignes fatui, which spring 
 
OKATION. 129 
 
 from darkness and unhealthy damps (locis paludosis et tetri- 
 cosis), or being lost in the dust thrown up by scuffling polem- 
 ics and their puppet-like partisans. That teacher makes a 
 grave mistake who bids his pupils to think independently for 
 themselves at once. The human mind, so liable to err at 
 sixty, is not infallible at twenty-one, or even before that im- 
 portant period. We must first be taught how to think. No 
 mechanic would permit his apprentice to handle keen-edged 
 tools at his own untaught discretion, as he might do more exe- 
 cution upon his own fingers than elsewhere ; but the faculties 
 of our minds are far more dangerous to ourselves than sharp- 
 ened steel, and mental and moral suicide has often been the 
 end of those who have used them in rash and ignorant self- 
 confidence. To think well we must know the rules of think- 
 ing ; and the best method of learning those rules, under the 
 blessing of Heaven, is to inquire how the mighty minds of the 
 past have thought before us. An itch after novelties is mis- 
 taken by some for a sort of heavenly inspiration, lifting the 
 soul, above the necessity of those slow and vulgar methods, 
 logic and induction, by which Aristotle and Bacon crept to- 
 wards the truth ; but if we are forced to admit that there is 
 anything sacred about it, let it be called ignis sacer, which is 
 Pliny's name for St. Anthony's fire.* 
 
 It is in youth those habits, which constitute character, 
 should be carefully and religiously formed, that the time and 
 pains necessary for the confirmation of the good may not be 
 lost in correcting the bad, if indeed they can ever be wholly 
 eradicated. The lower tendencies of our nature early strug- 
 
 * Plin. xxvi. 11. 
 
130 ORATION. 
 
 gle to gain power over us, and can be repressed only by pre- 
 occupying the heart and mind with higher aspirations and en- 
 gagements. Idleness is never long innocent. We must be 
 doing something, and if what we do be not good, it will cer- 
 tainly be evil. 
 
 Quffiritis ^gisthus, quare sit factus adulter ? 
 In promptu causa est, desidiosus erat.* 
 
 Or, as quaint Richard Baxter says, (if one may quote him so 
 close to Ovid,) " An idle man's brains are the devil's work- 
 shop ;" which good Dr. Watts renders in his Divine Songs 
 for Infant Minds, (a Uttle book many grown persons might be 
 wiser for getting by heart,) 
 
 Satan finds some mischief still 
 For idle hands to do. 
 
 But independently of this, the habit of labor is essential to 
 success. The primeval curse, " In the sweat of thy face shalt 
 thou eat bread," is upon us all, though by a wise submission 
 it may be turned into blessing. 
 
 It is true of the physical world. Nil sine sudore. That is 
 worth nothing which cost nothing. We may, perhaps, pass it 
 upon the ignorance of others as of value, but we defraud 
 them when we do so. Vain shall ever be found all expe- 
 dients, however plausible, to enrich a country, otherwise than 
 from the products of toil. Credit is very useful in its sphere, 
 but promises can never supply the place of what the earth 
 yields only to the laboring hand. We can neither eat them 
 
 * Ovid: Eemed. Am. 161, 162. 
 
ORATION, 131 
 
 nor wear them, nor can they long pay debts. But it is be- 
 yond the power of the worst tyranny to impoverish an intelli- 
 gent and industrious people. That sense of self-approving in- 
 dependence, which springs from the consciousness of owing 
 no man anything and of having earned one's bread, trains the 
 soul to an indomitable courage ; and the labor which gave it, 
 has already nerved the arm to strike down the oppressor. 
 The God of righteousness loves the honest man, and the God 
 of battles fights on his side. It is he, whose self-imposed ne- 
 cessities have made him dependent upon the caprice of others, 
 whose hand is open to the bribe, but dares not grasp the sword. 
 It is true of the moral world. There is but little merit in 
 doing well when it is easy to do well. Our word virtue, from 
 the Latin virtus, shows that its practice demands courage and 
 energy. "Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that 
 taketh a city." It is easy to let loose the tiger in our hearts, 
 and to grapple with a foe in desperation or hate ; but it is 
 hard to deny the uneasiness of evil desire, to beat down in- 
 surgent appetite, to crucify a bitter passion, to keep an un- 
 weary watch against subtle temptation, to maintain our integ- 
 rity when we get no return from the world but malice, and to 
 remain steadfast with the faithful few against the jeers of the 
 profligate many. Fabricius with his dinner of herbs, after he 
 had sent back the bribes of Pyrrhus, shows a better dignity than 
 Coriolanus at the head of the Volscian armies before aflPrighted 
 Rome ; nor was the conqueror of Hannibal ever so great as 
 when he dismissed his Carthaginian captive safe in her un- 
 polluted beauty. Such self-denial is not the impulse of a 
 moment. It is the heroic triumph of long self-resistance. It 
 
132 ORATION. 
 
 is the noble ostentation of victory after many an inward bat- 
 tle. It is the blessed reward of labor, hard, constant, and un- 
 flinching, in rooting out pernicious sin, and in cultivating the 
 impeded growth of good principles. Without the habit of such 
 moral labor within ourselves, formed in youth, and assidu- 
 ously cultivated, we shall never have the nerve to resist a 
 present temptation, nor the strength to persevere in the right 
 and the honorable. 
 
 I have spoken rather of the passive virtues, as they are 
 called, than of the active, because those are the more difficult 
 and rare, and when they prevail in the soul, the others 
 are never wanting. Obedience is best learned by the 
 things that we suffer. The language of inspiration confirms 
 this necessity of moral labor to the maintenance of sufficient 
 virtue. He who would enter into the right way by the strait 
 gate, must strive to put off criminal self, before his soul can 
 find space to pass through. He that would attain immortal 
 life and honor must be a follower until death of the Man of 
 sorrows, who worked while it was day ; who, as he went about 
 doing good, kept up a constant fight with temptation, and who 
 passed from the ignominy of the cross he had made illustrious 
 by his meekness, to a coronation of glory as the Lord our 
 Righteousness. It was not the fire that made the martyr, 
 but the heaven-trained spirit which triumphed over the flame 
 in the pureness of its charity. This " made the crowns of the 
 suffering ones splendid, gave them a majesty of shine and an 
 imperial glory."* Their trials were first the school, and then 
 the happy occasions of their virtue. They are now ranked 
 
 * Richard AUestree. 
 
ORATION. 133 
 
 before cherubim and seraphim, the most noble army of the 
 living God, Those who die in the Lord are they who then 
 " rest from their labors; and their works do follow them." 
 Emulate their example, and you shall share in their reward. 
 Nor forget that our own strength must ever be found unequal 
 to the duty ; but ask strength from on high, a right spirit and 
 a new heart, the true mens divinior, which God alone can. 
 bestow. 
 
 It is true of the intellectual world. The heights of science 
 are steep, and to ascend them we must, like the mountaineer, 
 be strong and sturdy. Without a habit of patient application, 
 no mind has ever attained decided greatness in any walk. 
 Such has been the progress of knowledge, that no genius, 
 however vigorous, can at once leap to the advance. Every 
 new step onward (for I speak not of eccentricities to the right 
 or left, which astonish the vulgar, and by none but them are 
 mistaken for originality,) is more difficult than the last. "We 
 may easily become notorious by startling errors, but to excel 
 in the one path of truth, which has been and is trodden by so 
 many master spirits, nay, to follow them, even at a long in- 
 terval, requires not only boldness but endurance. That en- 
 durance cannot come except from a habit of labor, early ac- 
 quired and steadily maintained. Posse tollere taurum qui vi- 
 tulum sustulerit. It was by beginning when a boy, to carry a 
 suckling heifer, that the shoulders of Milo, the Crotonian, be- 
 came strong enough to carry an ox. The Olympic Athlete 
 was crowned, not for that day's victory, but for seven long 
 years of determined, constant training, which enabled him to 
 win it. Thus must the mind be disciplined. 
 12 
 
134 ORATION. 
 
 It has passed into a proverb, that precocious youth rarely 
 makes an able manhood ; and some physiologists will say, 
 that it is because the brain is early overwrought; but, gene- 
 rally, the true reason may be found in the want of this habit 
 of labor. Facility of memory and quickness of perception 
 render the lad's tasks easy and allow him much hurtful lei- 
 sure for relaxing indulgences ; while the growth of indolence 
 is less marked from the readiness with which he excels his 
 slower companions ; nay, often his over-anxious Mamma 
 rather dissuades her prodigy from study, lest hke the self- 
 burning tree of Guinea he should be consumed by the fire of 
 his own genius, and the world lose the advantage of his ma- 
 ture greatness by such a melancholy instance of spontaneous 
 combustion. Naturally the idol of friends and teachers, he 
 becomes presumptuous upon his powers, and contemns the 
 necessity of steady exertion, until the severer trials of active 
 life come upon him, and then it is too late to remedy the fatal 
 neglect. The very dunce of his class, if studious and perse- 
 vering, will leave him far behind in respectable usefulness. 
 It is in this way, that early talent, given by God as a bless- 
 ing, is not unfrequently made a curse. There have been tew 
 great men who did not give promise of greatness in childhood. 
 Melanchthon at twenty-one was, in Greek, the master of Lu- 
 ther, then a Doctor of Divinity. Luther himself was noted 
 for his youthful learning ; and yet we do not find that either 
 Melanchthon, or Luther, or Erasmus (most precocious of the 
 three,) was made an idiot by an overwrought brain. It were 
 most unkind to smile at the fears of fond parents ; but they 
 may rest assured, that there is less danger for their young 
 
ORATION. 135 
 
 Gracchi, to be apprehended from laborious reading, than from 
 surfeits upon sweetmeats and compliments, or a dandyism in 
 premature long coats and Chestnut Street exhibitions. 
 
 Besides, without labor, we cannot acquire the power of 
 abstraction, so necessary to withdraw the inquirer from the 
 temptation of present pleasure, the bias of prejudice, the cor- 
 ruption of selfish interest, and the many distracting imperti- 
 nences of the surrounding world. To know truth aright, we 
 must be alone and candid with it as the Christian with his 
 God. We must understand our subject in all its bearings, 
 yet stript of all delusive circumstances. We must collect our 
 scattered thoughts, and condense them as through a lens upon 
 it. But to do this, we must first have obtained an habitual 
 mastery over our senses, passions, and faculties, which was 
 never yet obtained without many a conflict. You know not, 
 and God grant that you may never know, the inward anguish 
 and shame which a mind, not unconscious of natural force, but 
 idle from habit, and unfurnished from idleness, feels, when 
 seeing open opportunities for honorable enterprise, it is com- 
 pelled to forego the advantage, because unequal to an effort 
 which others make with ease. Years of idle pleasure are 
 dearly bought by one pang of such self-reproach. 
 
 Shrink not then, mj young friends, from labor. Wrestle 
 mostly with the strong, and you shall yourselves be strong. 
 It was a significant fable which made the founder of Rome 
 the son of a god, but suckled him at no tender breast. His 
 was a rough nurse, but a faithful one, and such is difficulty. 
 God knows our frame, and, though he has given us faculties 
 to aspire, he hath made excellence the reward and attainment 
 of educated strength, which grows by exertion. 
 
136 ORATION. 
 
 Pater ipse colendi 
 
 Haudfacilem esse viam voluit 
 
 curis acuens mortalia corda.* 
 
 It is the consciousness but too many of us feel, that we did not 
 then sufficiently fix ourselves in these habits of industry, which 
 saddens our memory of youth. Learn from our errors. Re- 
 gard yourselves, even now, as the men who must soon bear 
 the honorable burdens of society, and as immortal men, the 
 responsible servants of a good but just God. Every hour 
 carelessly wasted sows seeds of regret for future years. Every 
 hour of earnest study will yield fruits of mature satisfaction. 
 Every hour of communion with God, and practice of his pre- 
 cepts by divine help, has the earnest of an eternal reward. 
 
 But, while we make these confessions for your advantage, 
 a great comfort is left us. We did not, as many have done, 
 and as you may be tempted to do, abandon the pursuit of a 
 liberal education from temporary weariness or disgust. It is 
 but natural for a youth, full of fresh spirits, sometimes to tire 
 of his quiet books, and persuade himself that such severe ap- 
 plication to the study of science and letters is unnecessary to 
 success in life ; or that, from the windows of his seclusion, he 
 should look with a degree of envy upon his equals in years, 
 already bustling with Lilliputian self-importance about the 
 precincts of trade. It is, however, very unhappy, if the pa- 
 rent yield to the solicitations of his inexperienced son, and 
 permit him to withdraw from the honorable course, upon 
 which he entered him with high hopes of his future distinction. 
 
 * Virgil. Geor. T. 121—3. 
 
ORATION. 137 
 
 Allow me to forewarn you against such ignoble weakness ; 
 and, if I may be heard by the guardians of your welfare, to 
 dissuade them from consenting to such wishes, should they 
 arise in your minds. 
 
 Even should you not choose a learned profession, you will 
 need all the advantages which a full course of liberal study 
 can give you. I speak with all possible respect for trade and 
 commerce. The prejudice of dark ages, when a false aris- 
 tocracy contemned labor in any form as a dishonorable 
 necessity, is passing away, and should have no place in a 
 philosophical or republican mind. To determine a man's po- 
 sition in society by the honest calling he follows in life, is as 
 contrary to the justice of good sense, as it is to the genius of 
 our political system. The petty distinctions of social rank, 
 which have obtained in this country, excite the deserved ridi- 
 cule of calm observers from other lands. Nothing can be 
 more absurd than pride of family, in people who scarcely 
 know the birth-place of their grandfathers ; or an assertion of 
 superior nobility, by one who sells cloth in packages, over 
 another who sells ribands by the yard ; or by the importer of 
 bristles in hogsheads, or of hides in cargoes, over him who 
 makes brushes or shoes ; or by the professional man over 
 either, when he is in reality the paid servant of all. We are 
 members of one body, necessarily dependent upon, and con- 
 tributive to each other's well-being. To look down upon a 
 neighbor because his way of serving the community differs 
 from our own, is to despise ourselves. We should own no 
 superiority but that of age, worth, and wisdom. The highest 
 officer of our government is entitled to honor only as he faith- 
 
 12* 
 
138 ORATION. 
 
 fully ministers to the people's good ; and for one, without any 
 reference to parties or individuals, 1 can see no humiliation in 
 the retirement of a statesman, conscious of truth, from his lost 
 magistracy to his farm ; while I rejoice that there is but a 
 single step from the log-cabin to the Capitol. It proves the 
 working like leaven of that blessed doctrine which our fathers 
 wrote upon the bond of our confederacy ; the native equality 
 of the people. 
 
 Yet, certainly, cultivated intelligence is, as it should be, 
 necessary to real respectabiUty. The mere merchant is little 
 better than a common carrier, and the mere mechanic than an 
 animated machine, convenient and useful in supplying the 
 needs and luxuries of the community. To win our trust and 
 deference, they must prove themselves mentally and morally 
 worthy of it. It is when, leaving behind them, with the dust 
 of their warehouses and workshops, the thirst for gain, they 
 show a liberal sympathy and a wise zeal for social advance- 
 ment ; when the wealth they may have acquired is devoted 
 not to ostentatious display, but to the patronage of art, the 
 furtherance of learning, science and religion ; and when the 
 poor receive their unreluctant aid, the stranger their cheering 
 hospitality, and every man their kindly courtesy, that we own 
 them as brothers in their manhood, and venerate them as 
 fathers after their heads are crowned with a righteous hoari- 
 ness. To acquire the elements of such a character some years 
 may well be spent in cultivating a taste for graceful thought, 
 habits of philosophical observation, and sound notions of Chris- 
 tian, political and economical ethics. 
 
 It is sometimes said, that classical and kindred studies, 
 
ORATION. 139 
 
 with the associations they inspire, unfit the mind for the 
 business of a rude and sordid world ; but on the contrary, their 
 influence is greatly needed to restrain and chasten it from 
 contamination. The youth, who enters upon the bustling 
 scene before his heart and judgment are instructed in better 
 things, and fortified against temptation by generous thoughts 
 within, soon may learn to regard dollars and cents as the 
 gods of his idolatry, and embracing the maxims of cunning 
 selfishness which prevail around him, make his personal ag- 
 grandizement or low indulgence, the rule and aim of his en- 
 deavors. Far difl^erent will it be with him, whose leisure 
 is spent with the books and intellectual converse he early 
 learned to appreciate and love. He carries with him, wher- 
 ever he goes, wise reflections on the past, large views of his 
 social responsibilities, and aspiring hopes of a future and spirit- 
 ual reward. Him, success will never make insane with pride, 
 nor adversity overtake without strong consolation. 
 
 Sperat infestis, metuit secundis, 
 Alteram sortem bene preparatum 
 Pectus * 
 
 He can go forth from the ruin which is fatal to other men, 
 like the philosopher of old from the burning city of his home, 
 saying ; " Me-ipsum porto," knowing that he has a wealth in 
 his soul the world gave not and cannot take away. 
 
 It is unnecessary to dwell upon the value of polite learn- 
 ing to the professional man. "Without it he can never well 
 
 * Hor. Car. II. 10. 
 
140 ORATION. 
 
 sustain the position in society, which is accorded to his pro- 
 fession. Great talent and industry are not sufficient to cover 
 entirely the defect, and, often make it more apparent. An 
 illiterate or half educated physician, lawyer or clergyman, 
 whatever may be his skill, acuteness or worth, is ever apt to 
 betray his early disadvantages, and to be regarded with a pity 
 not distantly allied to contempt; while, on the other hand, fa- 
 miliarity with good authors, gives an easy grace and smooth- 
 ness to thought, language and even manner, which win, when 
 stronger qualities might fail to force their way. The keenly 
 polished scimitar of Damascus steel, in the hand of the slender 
 but accomplished Saladin, was, as the instructive novelist tells 
 us, a weapon not less effective than the mighty sword wielded 
 by the giant strength of his lion-hearted rival. No one, who 
 has had experience in these engagements, ever regrets an 
 hour of his preparation, though many have lamented, when 
 too late, having made it too brief. 
 
 Nor become impatient of paying close attention now to rvle 
 and method. There can be no excellence without a funda- 
 mental knowledge of those details ; and early usage in such 
 elements is required, as Quintilian expressed it, " Non modo 
 acuere ingenia puerilia, sed exercere altissimam quoque eru- 
 ditionem ac scientiam."* The astronomer, to the return of a 
 comet, combines the simple rules of arithmetic he learned at 
 school, and the most acute logician is dependent upon the first 
 principles of syntax. To reach the apex of a pyramid, the 
 traveller must begin at the bottom and go upward step by 
 step. Man was not made to fly, and he who trusts himself, 
 
 * Quin. Ins. Orator. 1. 2. 
 
ORATION. 141 
 
 like another Icarus, to the wings of an ill-regulated imagina- 
 tion, may chance to find a grave as deep though less famous 
 than a bay of the JEgean. 
 
 There is abundant time for this previous education. The 
 fault of our youth is that of their country. They grow too 
 fast, become men and women too soon ; and, like all hot-bed 
 growths, they are likely to be weak in the core. Our girls 
 have scarcely laid aside the bib of the nursery, before they 
 are set at the head of households ; and our lads assume the 
 toga virilis, when as yet their prcetexta should descend usque 
 ad talos. In the primitive ages the elders sat as magistrates 
 and counsellors at the gate. The Hebrews fixed the entrance 
 upon public life at thirty years of age, and the Athenians al- 
 lowed none to speak in their democratic assemblies, until the 
 men of more than fifty had spoken. But with us the man of 
 fifty is looked upon as little better than superannuated, and is 
 thrust aside by the stripling whose chin is unconscious of a 
 razor, vociferous applause answering his tumid declamation 
 and dashing theories. It is because of this error, and not the 
 lack of original talent, that so many ruinous novelties spring up 
 and die at such cost to the nation, and that so little true excel- 
 lence, and so few thorough scholars are to be found among 
 us. He, who delays his public duties until the gristle of his 
 mind has been hardened into bone, will be the more valuable 
 servant of his country and ensure to himself a later but better 
 fame. Be not impatient, young gentlemen. It is a long 
 course and an arduous, that you have to run, and you shall 
 lose nothing in the end by taking the advice I give you in so- 
 ber earnestness, to " tarry here until your beards be grown." 
 
142 ORATION. 
 
 There are, doubtless, those (though, I trust, none among 
 you) who may, without loss to themselves or others, give over 
 an attempted but unfinished education. The youth, who feels 
 no sacred thirst for knowledge, whose ear is deaf to the voices 
 of nature, who reads without interest the histories of past ages ; 
 for whom Homer has no poetry, Horace no grace, the impet- 
 uous questioning of Demosthenes no spirit-stirring charm, and 
 the full, sonorous cadences of Cicero no majestic power ; who 
 is willing to remain on the asses' side of Euclid's bridge ; who 
 takes no more concern with science than to cheat his profes- 
 sor at the recitation, and to whom the philosophy of mind 
 speaks of what he has not, wastes here that time which might 
 be better spent in tasks for which his sluggish nature fits him. 
 Let him dig, sweep the streets, carry burdens, or, if he have 
 fortune, lounge through life that public nuisance, an idle gen- 
 tleman. No oracle within him says — 
 
 . . . . Me gelidum nemus 
 Nympharumque leves cum satyris chori 
 Secemunt populo * 
 
 Neither parental anxiety nor instructor's skill can raise him 
 from the degradation he feels not. 
 
 Let me here also entreat you not to make the common error 
 of supposing all wealth to consist of money or estate, and that he 
 only advances the riches of his country, who increases its ma- 
 terial commodities. If the safes and strong vaults of banks 
 are reckoned among their valuables, if the courthouses and 
 prisons of a State be deemed necessary at a large expense, and 
 
 * Hor. Car. I. 1. 
 
ORATION. 143 
 
 if the wages of labor be estimated correctly only by the com- 
 forts they can buy ; surely they, who minister health to the 
 sick by their skill, who arrange the moralities of law, who in- 
 spire by divine counsels the courage of tempted virtue, who 
 write with patient pen the friendly volume for the hour of 
 leisure, or who explore and meditate upon the laws of nature, 
 that they may direct toil to the most ready and profitable em- 
 ployment, contribute largely to our best possessions. Their 
 harvests never fail, nor can the fire consume, nor the tempest 
 destroy the products of their industry. But this doctrine has 
 been stated to you far better than I can do it, by one to whose 
 teachings (Jiaud inexpertus loquor^ his pupils love to listen, 
 Professor Vethake, in his acute Treatise on Political Econo- 
 my. I cannot speak what I think, for he hears me ; but I 
 must say, God bless him for rescuing the physician, the jurist, 
 the divine, the man of letters, and the man of science, out of 
 the same category with jugglers and opera dancers, where 
 previous economists had placed us as unproductive consum- 
 ers ! For such nobler services you are now qualifying your- 
 selves, and, if faithful, you shall find in them an imperishable 
 reward, the approbation of conscience, the esteem of good men, 
 and the benediction of God. 
 
 There is, my young friends, an advantage you enjoy as 
 members of this University, upon which I must dwell some- 
 what at length. I do not now refer to the ability and pater- 
 nal zeal of your instructors. You know their worth. Well 
 might they be compared with those of any institution of our 
 land, were not such comparisons invidious, and on this occa- 
 sion out of taste. They need no encomium, and I believe that 
 
144 ORATION. 
 
 you will long regard them with affectionate gratitude. That, 
 of which I would now speak, is the privilege you have of re- 
 siding within the bosom of your families, while you prosecute 
 your academic studies. 
 
 Most of our colleges are situate out of towns, where, conse- 
 quently, the youth, who enter them, are compelled to live in 
 cloisters and commons ; a pernicious and unnatural custom, 
 which has come down to us from the dark ages. It would 
 certainly be accounted an absurd proposition, of a hundred or 
 more lads, from fifteen to twenty years of age, to leave the 
 parental roof, and combine to keep, what is termed Bachelors' 
 Hall, away from a father's eye, a mother's care, and a sister's 
 love. Yet what better is the arrangement to which I allude, 
 and to the effects of which so many persons consign their off- 
 spring? It may be said, that they are placed under the 
 guardianship of wise and good men, and secluded also from 
 the temptations to vice which abound in cities. But are the 
 occasional meetings, and periodical visits to their dormitories, 
 of a studious man, however faithfully disposed, and sleeping 
 withal in the same building, a compensation for the moral re- 
 straints of home, its sacred threshold and guarded repose ? Is 
 vice confined to our larger towns ? or is it not true, that where 
 vicious appetite craves indulgence there will be venal profli- 
 gacy to grant it ? Is there not danger of contamination when 
 a youth, at the age Avhen he feels the strength of recent pas- 
 sions most, and is the least prepared to resist them, has been 
 thrown into immediate contact and unrestrained communica- 
 tion with ill-taught or ill-disposed companions, already famil- 
 iar with vice ? 
 
ORATION. 145 
 
 Dedit banc contagio labem, 
 Et dabit in plures ; sicut grex totus in agris, 
 Unius scabie cadit, et porrigine porci ; 
 Uvaqne conspecta livorem dueit ab uva.* 
 
 Nay, will not a natural impatience of espionage, however ten- 
 derly exercised, prompt a wish to elude it ? Not one of us^ 
 who have had experience of such college life, but could tell 
 sad stories of ready means to cheat tutors, and turn the war 
 adroitly upon them ; of festive meetings, if not worse prac- 
 tices, within a few yards of the honest men's beds, and mid- 
 night excursions through the unwatched door to haunts of sin 
 without. Not one of us, but has seen companions, who came 
 ingenuous and blushing from their pure homes, turned by the 
 influence of evil example into brazen profligates^ and lost to 
 virtue forever. There have been, it is true, many instances 
 of general religious good among students in colleges, for which 
 we should give God thanks ; but an argument from this in 
 their favor is, at the least, of doubtful propriety. It was the 
 conservative influence of the Holy Spirit overruling error for 
 good, and affords no sufficient warrant for encountering an ob- 
 vious danger. 
 
 Parents, who become impatient of the anxious care their 
 sons require, and are aware of their own deficiencies, though 
 they take no pains to do better, are readily brought to think 
 that they can obtain for them a better guardianship from such 
 institutions. In this some are right ; I mean those who can- 
 not deny themselves selfish pleasures for their children's good, 
 and who cannot refrain from luxurious excess in their very 
 
 *Juv. Sat. II. 78—81. 
 13 
 
146 OKATION. 
 
 homes, so that by their own families, ^^ pudenda dictu spectan- 
 tur." "Well might Quintilian say, for such people, who were 
 common in his day, and not altogether unknown in ours: 
 " Utinarn liherorum nostrorum mores non ipsi perderemus"* 
 But where parental responsibility is felt, and a pious anxiety 
 to train up souls born unto them, by precept, government and 
 example, for usefulness here and heaven hereafter, it is a most 
 grave error to suppose that any asylum is so safe for youth as 
 home, or any guardianship so effectual as that which God in 
 nature and his word has ordained. A young lad, who can 
 steal out from his father's dwelling at night to practise his vice, 
 and afterward meet his motber's loving eye and his sister's 
 pure embrace without compunction, is already lost beyond any 
 power, short of" Almighty grace, to reform. Any change of 
 circumstances must be for the worse. 
 
 Besides, I ask of parents who thus (except where necessity 
 compels,) send their children to boarding schools and colleges 
 where the cloister system prevails, what right they have, from 
 indolence or any other motive, to alter, by any contrivances, 
 the order of nature and providence ? How dare they dele- 
 gate to others that sacred office, most resembling His own, 
 which God by giving them offspring has made theirs ? When 
 Grod places a babe in a mother's arms, he says, more plainly 
 than by words : " Take this child and nurse it for me, and I 
 will pay thee thy wages ;" and to every father, who sees the 
 first gleaming of immortal intelligence on the face of his babe, 
 he sends as emphatic command to walk before that soul as its 
 guide and guard. How can they, without treason against 
 
 Qain. Ins. Orat. I. 2. 
 
ORATION. 147 
 
 Heaven, send them beyond their sight and reach at the most 
 critical period of life ? Where in the Book of God can they 
 find permission so to do ? "Where can they read any excep- 
 tions allowed to the duty of a personal superintendence and 
 exertion ? How shall they acquit themselves in the judgment 
 of having caused the evils that may result from such an aban- 
 donment of their charge ? 
 
 A pious and eloquent prelate (Jeremy Taylor), in his Con- 
 siderations upon the Infancy of Jesus, has earnestly exhorted 
 Christian mothers to follow the example of the Virgin Mary 
 in nursing their children ; and even his enlightened mind ac- 
 quired some arguments for that duty, from a discourse of a 
 heathen philosopher (Favorinus) with his friend, which has 
 been preserved by Aulus Gellius.* Both insist that she, 
 from whom the child derives its natural nourishment, is the 
 mother both in character and affection, rather than the one 
 who brought it forth, ^sop, in Phsedrus, illustrates the 
 same truth by his fable of the lamb seeking its foster dam 
 among the goats. {Facit parentes honitas, non necessitas.'f) 
 But may not the argument be carried further with even 
 greater force ? Do not parents lose their claim to fiUal duty 
 and affection, by giving over their children's growing years 
 and expanding character to the disposition of others ? Need 
 they wonder if those children should grow up unUke them as 
 to everything but name, feature, and the unloving indifference 
 with which they repay early neglect ? 
 
 Some writers on education have thought, that the sending 
 of a young lad to a distant school or college, is of use to give 
 
 * Noctes Attica. XU. 1. t Fab. III. 15. 
 
148 ORATION. 
 
 him a more manly temper, and an early habit of relying upon 
 himself, from the necessity of maintaining his own in such a 
 miniature world ; while on the other hand he is likely to grow 
 »p soft, easy, and timid, amidst the indulgences and retire- 
 ment of home. Mr. Locke (if I remember rightly) thinks 
 that the influence of sisters and brothers upon each other is 
 particularly hurtful, and urges their separation, lest the girls 
 should become hoidenish, and the boys effeminate. Their 
 theory, both as to its ends and means, is directly in the face 
 of the social constitution God has ordained for us. It might 
 do, if our youth were to be trained up like those of Sparta, 
 mere brutish machines, insensible to any gentler emotions 
 than pride of warlike strength and a false love of country. 
 But the cultivation of moral affections is, above all, important 
 to form the character of a Christian gentleman, the friend of 
 man, and the servant of God. Love should ever be, as it 
 was in Eden, as it shall be in heaven, the ruling principle of 
 our nature, and. therefore, should be engaged on behalf of 
 education. The softer and the stronger qualities should be 
 developed together. It might be injurious to his character if 
 the youth were shut up entirely with women. He needs a 
 man's example and a man's control. But we have the au- 
 thority of God for asserting, that " it is not good for man to 
 be alone." It is as true of his younger life, as of his maturity. 
 The same female influence, which is the conservative charm 
 of manhood, softening our manners, nor suffering us to be 
 savage and selfish, must be impressed upon the growing soul, 
 if we would have its human beauty complete beauty. Man was 
 not complete until feminine graces were added to masculine 
 
ORATION. 149 
 
 strength. He was as the rock without verdure, the oak with- 
 out its foliage, and the lyre before it is tuned. How beauti- 
 fully does this appear in a well-regulated home ? When the 
 gentleness of a mother's counsel prevail not, the father's deep- 
 er voice may enforce ; when the father's rougher hand has 
 fretted the sensitiveness of the young heart, the mother's nicer 
 instincts apply the balm to the healthful irritation. In either 
 case, parental authority founds its right on gratitude, and asks 
 obedience as the proof of love. But the duty of the mother 
 is the earlier and stronger. The child grew nearer to her 
 heart, and the youth is more under her eye. He receives 
 more from her than from his father. (^Ex mairis etiam cor- 
 pore et animo recens indoles configuratur.*) From whom did 
 the Gracchi derive their eloquence ?t From whom the young 
 Timothy his knowledge of the truth ? Nay, I need not quote 
 examples, for they are too many not to be obvious. 
 
 Happy too is that young man who has grown up in the so- 
 ciety of sisters emulous of a mother's purity and grace ! 
 They refine his heart, his thought, and his manners. Gross- 
 ness of imagination recoils upon him as an insult to them. 
 Female character is to him, for their sakes, almost a holy 
 thing. The flowers which they nurture, or arrange in har- 
 monious groups, shed perfume around his home, and the me- 
 lodies of their young joy, breathed from the sweetest instru- 
 ment human ear has ever heard, a female voice, fill its atmos- 
 phere with music, winning him from external temptation ; or, 
 
 * Favor, ap. Aul. Gell. 
 
 t Legimus cpistolas Coinelise, matris Gracchonim ; apparet, filios 
 non tam in gremio educates, quam in sermone matris. — Cic. Brut. 58. 
 13* 
 
150 ORATION. 
 
 as they lean upon his arm and fondly look up to him for pro- 
 tection, he learns the blessedness of man's strength in sup- 
 porting the weak and guarding the precious. 
 
 Sadly diflferent is the ordinary experience of a youth board- 
 ing in a distant college. Some natural tears he may shed on 
 leaving the loved familiar group, but he is not without some- 
 thing of the prodigal's satisfaction, at venturing forth from the 
 restraints of the parental roof. He finds himself among new 
 companions, and under a new discipline. The lesson, the 
 precept, the warning come from the lips and authority of 
 strangers, backed by stern laws and severe penalties. Vene- 
 rable his teachers may be, and kindly faithful in disposition 
 and deportment, yet do they rarely succeed in making him re- 
 gard them other than as masters whom he has not learned to 
 love, and obeys chiefly because he fears him. They watch 
 him, or profess to watch him, by night and by day, and pub- 
 lic opinion among his fellows pronounces them natural ene- 
 mies, whom it is clever to deceive, while conscience accuses 
 him of no ingratitude. All the week he is urged by them 
 through difficult studies, and religion is associated in his mind 
 with prayer at morning twilight in a cold chapel, black marks 
 for absences, and Sunday sermons pronounced by the same 
 voice, which the day before had cross-examined him on Flux- 
 ions, or rated him for errors of Prosody. No chastened plea- 
 sures await his leisure hours. They are spent in rough 
 horse-play, in prurient conversation, in concealed dissipation, 
 or idle lounging, — in just such a manner as youth, who think 
 themselves men while yet they are boys, might be expected 
 to spend them. How different is the commons-table, often 
 
ORATION. 151 
 
 ill served, except immediately before the presiding officer, 
 from the pleasing family board with its natural courtesies and 
 confiding interchange of thought ! No lady's eye overlooks 
 them as they scramble like boors for the hasty meal. No 
 woman's tidy hand has arranged their wardrobes, and no ap- 
 proving smile rewards and encourages decency of dress and 
 carriage. A college student's wardrobe ! What a collection 
 it is of toeless stockings, buttonless wristbands, and uncared-for 
 rents, some mothers can tell who have examined the trunk 
 they saw packed so neatly a few months before. A college 
 student's room — shared perchance with one to whom neat- 
 ness is an unknown quality ; its httered, unscrubbed, uncar- 
 peted floor ; its confused and broken furniture ; its close at- 
 mosphere heated by a greasy stove and redolent of tobacco ; 
 its bed a lounging-place by day, whose pillows have never 
 been shaken or sheets smoothed by other than the college por- 
 ter, who intermitted for such ministry the carrying of wood 
 or the blacking of boots ; its dim panes festooned with ancient 
 cobwebs, through which the noonday sun looks yellow as 
 through a London fog, — it is indescribable as chaos. "Wo to 
 him whom sickness seizes in such an abode ! Kind nurses 
 he may have ; but how I'ough I With what heavy tread, and 
 strange notions of the materia medica ! Vainly does the fe- 
 vered eye look around for mother, or sister, or time-honored 
 servant ! Vainly does the fevered thirst crave the grateful 
 drink their hands once pressed to his lips, when he was sick 
 at home ! There is none to sprinkle the fragrant spirit on 
 his brow, or, after bathing his feet in the attempered water, 
 to wipe them dry and wrap them warm. Alas ! poor youth ; 
 
152 ORATION. 
 
 he has a mother, he has sisters, he has a home, where kuid- 
 ness might have made sickness a luxury — but they have sent 
 him away to suffer among strangers. 
 
 Can it be, my friends, that such slipshod, unkempt, out-of- 
 elbowed, bearish young men are the sons of our respectable 
 families in a course of education to be gentlemen, and to take 
 their place in polite society ? Can it be that well-bred Chris- 
 tian parents have wilfully thrust them forth into such asso- 
 ciations and dangers ? Yes, some of them have gone from 
 our own city, where one of the best colleges in the land is at 
 their fathers' door. Shame upon the Philadelphians who 
 thus dishonor what they should foster with a jealous care ! 
 Congratulate yourselves, young gentlemen, that you are not 
 among them, and that God has given you fathers and mothers 
 who need not and will not deny you the sacred comforts of 
 home ; while you enjoy all the advantages of thorough in- 
 struction from those who may consult the parental heart when 
 the exercise of disciphne is necessary, and call parental anx- 
 iety to assist them in their watch over your moral and intel- 
 lectual welfare. 
 
 For my part, I look upon boarding schools, whether for 
 girls or boys, and boarding colleges, with the same feelings 
 with which I look upon a foundling hospital. The inmates 
 may be of a larger growth, but almost as unnaturally aban- 
 doned. There may be those among them, who are better 
 guarded than they would have been under their parents' 
 watch ; but they are to be pitied for their perilous and un- 
 comfortable lot. Circumstances may compel parents to send 
 their offspring from home, and in such cases we must allow 
 
ORATION. 153 
 
 the force of the classic maxim : " Nhcessitas .... quicquid 
 cogit, excusat." But I would entreat them, whenever it is 
 possible, to place their sons with worthy families, where a lady 
 sits at the head of the table, and her power is felt in the sa- 
 credness of a household. 
 
 My young friends, one parting counsel more and I have 
 done. Life to you is full of promise, and may its best bless- 
 ings be yours ! The esteem of the good, deserved by a wise 
 and generous devotion to the interests of society, and the ap- 
 proving consciousness of well-spent time, are truly rich re- 
 wards, that may well excite your determined zeal. But life 
 is short. Our duties and our pleasures here shall soon (who 
 can tell how soon ?) terminate in the grave. This autumnal 
 season has a parable for us, and the voice of the dying year, 
 as it moans through the leafless trees, speaks to the medita- 
 tive mind in the mournful cadence of that eloquent participle 
 we have no word to translate : " Tu quoque moriture !" Yet 
 we shall not altogether die. We are children of immortality. 
 There is another life than this, another Judge than man, an- 
 other ordeal than human opinion. "We shall be profited noth- 
 ing if we gain the whole world and lose our souls. Blessed 
 be God ! He has had compassion upon our need and danger. 
 Jesus Christ his only begotten Son, our Lord, is the Friend, 
 the Advocate and Brother of all who trust in his love. He 
 himself walked the sands of life's desert, that, guided by his 
 holy footsteps, we find the way to that better land whither he 
 
154 ORATION. 
 
 has gone before us. He himself has fought the battles of life's 
 temptations, that we might know Him to be ready to succor 
 us when we are tempted. He, the babe of Bethlehem, the 
 youth before whom in the Temple " the boast of hoary wis- 
 dom was dumb," loves the grateful confidence of a young 
 heart. Seek Him earnestly. Look to Him always ; and 
 whatever be your lot in this passing scene, glory, honor and 
 immortality shall be yours, when the waters of an eternal 
 deep shall have rolled its engulphing waves over earth and 
 the years that revolve around it. 
 
 Remember, also, that with all the advantages by which 
 your fortunate youth is surrounded, you are, under God, the 
 disposers of your own future interest. Your success for time 
 and eternity depends upon your faithfulness to yourselves. 
 Difficulties must be yours ; but they are ever occasions of 
 greater glory or of greater shame. I take, then, my leave of 
 you with the words of the gods' fabled messenger : 
 
 Be mindful, now you cannot err unwarned ; 
 Nor lay the blame on Fate, nor think that God 
 Afflicts his creatures from a blind caprice : 
 The fault is yours alone ; if, by neglect 
 Infatuate, you have wrapt the fatal net 
 Of sin inextricable 'round your feet.* 
 
 * The translation I give is free, but the attentive reader of the origi- 
 nal can hardly fail to trace a strong parallel between the idea of the 
 Greek poet and that of the Christian apostle James, I. 13, 14, 15. 
 
 'A/IA' ovv fiE[ivr]a-&' uytj Trpolsyu • 
 M.rj6e Trpbg aT7]c d-ijpa-&eicrai 
 
ORATION. 155 
 
 Or, in the better language of Christ's apostle : 
 " Blessed is the man that endureth temptation ; for when 
 he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord 
 has promised to them that love him. Let no man say when 
 he is tempted. I am tempted of God. For God cannot be 
 tempted of evil. Neither tempteth he any man." 
 May that victory and that crown be given to you all. 
 
 'Of Zsic vfiug elg UTvpoowTov 
 
 Jly/J,' elaefiakev • 
 
 M^ 6fiT\ avral d' vfxdg avrdg. 
 
 Eldvlai, yap kovk E^ai(j>v7]Q 
 
 OvSe "ka&paiijc 
 
 Etf UTTepavTov Siktvov drijg 
 
 'E^7r^e;i;i?7(7£(Ti9^' vtc' uvoiag. 
 
 ^schylus, Prom. Vine. 1071-9. 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF ART IN" THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 AN ADDRESS 
 
 BEFOBE THE 
 
 ARTISTS' FUND SOCIETY OE PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 OPENING OF THEIE EXHIBITION, 
 MAT, 1840. 
 
 (bt request.) 
 14 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 Mr. President, 
 
 and Gentlemen, Members of the Artists' Fund Society. 
 I know that I express the feelings of many others, in con- 
 gratulating you warmly on the prosperity of your Association. 
 The opening of your new and commodious Hall of Exhibi- 
 tion, on a site very generously secured to you by the Acade- 
 my of Fine Arts, with the rich collection of your own more 
 recent and beautiful works now arranged within it, gives as- 
 surance of your successful zeal in the past, and warrants the 
 best hopes for the future. You need no longer complain that 
 you are without a resting place and home, and the scandal of 
 seeming alienation between a Society of Artists and a So- 
 ciety of the friends of Art, has ceased. We now see that, 
 though there may be different views of policy, a sincere de- 
 sire to promote the healthful growth of Art, binds you to- 
 gether in a union, perhaps the stronger, because without a lite- 
 ral covenant. Kindness has been proflFered, and kindness has 
 been accepted. You have shown yourselves above that petty 
 pride which refuses honorable aid in a good cause ; and the 
 Academy have shown their willingness that you should be set 
 before the public in a good light, even at the expense of being 
 
160 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 thrown themselves into the back ground. So close a neigh- 
 borhood, formed in such circumstances, cannot fail to be fruit- 
 ful of good offices. 
 
 The fact, that, as associated Artists, you are conscious of 
 sufficient strength to assume the entire management of your 
 own interests, is, in itself, cheering. For if it be true, that 
 since The Painters of Siena were chartered in 1355, under 
 those admirable statutes for the government of the profession 
 which, for truth and clearness, have never been surpassed, 
 Artists have proved themselves to be the best judges of what 
 the honor of the Arts may demand, it should also be remem- 
 bered, that during their earlier infancy, they have always 
 needed and sought kindly nurture from those who have the 
 taste to admire, and the means to reward, what they have not 
 the happy genius to execute. 
 
 It is not until the friends of Art have become numerous 
 through the influence of Art, that Artists can cease to be de- 
 pendent on the few. They must themselves form the gene- 
 ral taste upon which they are to live, and that can be done 
 only by constant and patient addresses to the public eye, in 
 works of genuine merit. Taste is governed by sentiment, 
 rather than professional dictation. You can neither write 
 nor lecture us into a sense of Art ; but your brush or chisel 
 may win, when the best pen and most eloquent tongue can 
 avail nothing. In illustration of this, how many a traveller 
 from this western world, who, at home, listened incredulously 
 to high- wrought descriptions of the great masters, has, in one 
 hour spent between the Transfiguration and the Communion 
 of St. Jerome, felt within him the birth of a passion for Art, 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 161 
 
 lasting as life ? But then again how very few, except the 
 learned artist, practised critic, or observant anatomist, can en- 
 ter at once into the merits of Michael Angelo ? They may 
 have studied the hundred volumes which have been written 
 upon his works and genius ; they may have conned by heart 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds' lectures, and prepared themselves to 
 exclaim, as the doors of the Sistine opened before them, 
 
 " Michel piu che mortel ! 
 Angel divino ! " 
 
 but if any home-returned tourists, garrulous of foreign won- 
 ders and themselves, pretend that they fell into ecstasies on 
 their first visit to the chapel, we need scarcely doubt that 
 
 " They talk of beauties which they never saw, 
 And fancy raptures which they never knew." 
 
 We are willing to believe Michael Angelo the first of Ar- 
 tists, because that rank is given him by those who are the 
 best judges, and perhaps, in time, we might acquire an ap- 
 preciation of his greatness ; yet, until then, it is a matter of 
 faith. But when critics tell us of the mild glories of Haf- 
 faelle, sublime in his serenity, or of Domenichino's touching 
 truth, making the beholder tremulous with sympathy, we 
 yield a ready assent, because we can feel them. Gentlemen, 
 you must make us feel Art, and afterwards we shall be glad 
 to hear from you homilies upon taste. 
 
 One good Artist sows the seed of a liberal harvest for 
 many successors, not only by the encouragement of his ex- 
 ample, but by the excitement which his works give to the 
 14* 
 
it»Z THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 public appetite for the pleasures of Art. Collections, such as 
 you exhibit each season, made up from your various depart- 
 ments and styles, and thus addressed to our various taste and 
 capacity to enjoy, must, as indeed experience has shown, call 
 forth the latent love of many an eye and mind for beauty of 
 form, color, and composition. Some scene of quiet nature, 
 with its bending trees mingling their shadows in the placid 
 waters ; or gorgeous landscape of rich autumnal hues, such 
 as visit no land but ours ; or sea piece, where the struggling 
 vessel heaves and tosses on waves which foam around her, 
 as the brush of Birch can give them action, will excite a de- 
 sire that other spots, endeared by tender associations ; or re- 
 membered view, which we lingered long to gaze upon and 
 sighed to leave ; or thrilling incident of former adventure 
 might be present, by the magic of your art, when the reahty 
 is far distant, or long since past. The marble, which, to an 
 unpractised eye seems cold and unexpressive, from its pol- 
 ished pureness and classic severity, when wrought into the 
 form and features of the great we revere, or the faithful we 
 have cherished, will soon assert its power to give superior 
 dignity, or spiritual tenderness, to memorials of virtue, love- 
 liness, and truth. If the portrait of one dear friend speak to 
 us from the canvas, how natural is the wish that graphic 
 images of aU who form the circle of affection should remain, 
 when the grave shall have hidden their decaying dust ? Fil- 
 ial piety will entreat you to trace the venerable countenance 
 of the parent whose race is nearly run ; the mother, to secure 
 her a longer enjoyment of her child's infantile graces ; and 
 the husband and father, to combine for him a loving group of 
 his pleasing wife and circUng offspring. 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 163 
 
 Fed by such grateful indulgence, may we not hope that a 
 growing taste and liberality will learn to appreciate the noble 
 talent of Epic composition ? Then, instead of being content 
 with hanging upon his walls mere family likenesses, which, 
 however gratifying they may be to affection, the painter's 
 skill can rarely clothe with grace or dignity, the lover of his 
 country and of virtue will seek to impress his own, and the 
 young minds of his household, with scenes of American glory, 
 and the attractive teachings of pictured morals; admiring 
 citizens will combine their gratitude, and place high upon pe- 
 destals of honor statues of our heroes and sages, persuading 
 posterity to unite with them in honoring public worth and in 
 learning lessons of patriotic devotion ; and legislatures, rep- 
 resenting a generous public spirit, warrant the employment of 
 genius in giving majesty to halls of office, and elegance to 
 resorts of the people. 
 
 It is melancholy to think of the talent which now lies dor- 
 mant among yourselves, gentlemen, for want of encourage- 
 ment ; and to see in your annual catalogues such a repetition 
 of "Portrait of a Lady ;" " Portrait of a Gentleman ;" when 
 we know that some, at least, of the pencils which produced 
 them are capable of far higher achievement. But in a coun- 
 try like ours, where there are no princely houses and few 
 large fortunes, you cannot hope for great advances of the 
 public feeling for Art, but by reaching the people generally. 
 In the present state of political controversy (and there is 
 little prospect of a speedy amendment) the expenditure of 
 public money upon works of Art would expose the best ad- 
 ministration to defeat from the virulent assaults and impeach- 
 
164 THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 ments of opposing partisans, many of whom know better, 
 but eagerly use any methods, however mean, of political ad- 
 vancement The people would be persuaded by their soph- 
 istries, that nothing should receive the public patronage, but 
 that which is immediately and palpably useful ; and that, con- 
 trary to the suffrage of all history, the Arts, which refine and 
 beautify, are unworthy the regard of simple republicans. 
 This prejudice, so fostered, can only be met among the people 
 themselves, by a wide diffusion of Art in its cheaper forms. 
 It might, with truth, be affirmed that the same statues which 
 were the admiration of Athenian democrats, or now delight 
 the houseless lazaroni of Naples, could not stand in our public 
 squares without mutilation until to-morrow morning. There 
 is brutaUty enough among us to count it a good joke to knock 
 off the nose of the Medicean Venus, or decapitate the Anti- 
 nous. Yet the love of Art is indigenous to no particular 
 soil ; nor is it inherently confined to any particular race. The 
 child's pleasure over his picture-book, and the crowds which 
 gather before the print-shop window, prove that there is an 
 innate taste, which needs but to be cultivated to acquire force 
 anywhere. It is the habit of contemplating works of Art 
 which, in the course of years, forms the public taste for Art. 
 The decorations and symmetry of their public temples, and 
 their public memorials of heroic deeds and ancestral glory, 
 taught the Greeks to identify encouragement of Art with re- 
 hgion and love of country. Italy, before Grecian genius 
 shone upon Etruria, was barbarous and blind ; and the Ro- 
 man, as he first appeared, was only stern and warlike. Even 
 in the time of Augustus we read of no successful native 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 165 
 
 Artist, where, in more modern centuries, such glories of genius 
 have shone ; where now the roughest hthograph bears the 
 stamp of merit, and the poorest peasant, crushed as he is by 
 despotic rule, swells with the thought that the land which 
 schools the world in Art is his own. The same change, des- 
 pite of our Anglo-Saxon lineage, may pass over us, and with 
 more than Grecian freedom and ancient Roman valor, we 
 may acquire the taste to feel that national character loses 
 nothing of its dignity by being draped with grace. 
 
 Yet, I repeat, this can be accomplished only by reaching 
 the ma.ss of our people who must control the national senti- 
 ment. Modern improvements in Art furnish great facilities 
 for this work of refinement.* Those, whose means are too 
 narrow to purchase original designs, can find a cheap, but 
 dehghtful gratification from the engraver's art, so successfully 
 cultivated by some of our own countrymen, among whom are 
 estimable associates of your own. Engraving is the true 
 child of Painting, 
 
 " Mater, pulchra filia, pulchrior j" 
 
 and with filial zeal does she advance her mother's honor. 
 Indeed, the burin deserves far higher estimation, gratitude 
 and encouragement, than we are wont to give it, for bringing 
 within the reach of many, what must otherwise have remained 
 the privilege of a few, and thus preparing the way for a 
 wide-spread influence of higher Art. A good engraving of 
 a good picture, in its eiSfect on the mind, is incomparably supe- 
 
 * Appendix (A.) 
 
166 THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 nor to a painting of ordinary merit. It gives us tiie drawing, 
 the shadows, the composition and air of the master, refining the 
 eye and taste, perhaps the more, because the coloring is not 
 imitated. If it be true, as a critic of the best rank has asserted, 
 that a connoisseur in prints is more than half accomplished 
 as a judge of painting, it must also be true that a general 
 diffusion of good prints would secure a general relish for 
 Art in its more elevated and original forms. The painter, 
 therefore, should regard the engraver as his best friend, and 
 one who, never aspiring to be a rival, is content to serve un- 
 der his shadow for a humble portion of the larger profit and 
 praise which he assists to win. 
 
 It is certainly most pleasing for the generous admirer of 
 Art, and lover of human happiness, to think of the vast 
 numbers, whom the ingenuity of recent years has admitted to 
 a share in his enjoyments. The prolific family of Annuals, 
 long after their feeble literature has ceased to attract, amuse 
 and deUght by their elegant embellishments the vacant hours 
 of those, who have received those offerings of affection, and of 
 the visitor, who awaits, beside their centre tables, the anxious 
 toilet's slow delay. The very bullionist smoothes his brow 
 while contemplating the bank note's graceful ornaments, and, 
 though lamenting that 
 
 " So fair 
 A promise should deceive th' admirlDg trust, 
 And be not what it seems," 
 
 mast confess that the vignette is worth something, though the 
 security be never so doubtful. The invention of hthography, 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 167 
 
 and the great advance in wood-cutting, besides the service 
 they render to science, have enlivened with glimpses of Art 
 the walls of many a humble dwelling, once poor and mean ; 
 and allure the tasteful school-boy through a flowery maze to 
 orthography and syntax, which it required our utmost cour- 
 age to approach, when the aditus to their mysteries was 
 guarded by a frowning "vera efl&gies" of Noah Webster, un- 
 like any possible thing but a nightmare realization of the 
 nursery hobgoblin. The Penny Magazines, as they are pub- 
 lished abroad, (and I hope soon to be able to say here also,) 
 carry to the poorest of the people, wood engravings of master 
 pieces in Art, and specimens of natural history, which the 
 most finished critic would not disdain to admire ; and there 
 may be as much heartfelt enjoyment in the evening circle 
 of the poor man's home, around a fresh-cut number of the 
 weekly visitor, as an amateur can feel before a Correggio or a 
 Claude. I have often thought that I could forego the pleasure 
 of listening to Mozart's best overture, for the sake of wit- 
 nessing the delight dancing in the eyes, and dimpling the 
 cheeks of a group of country children around a Savoyard's 
 hand-organ, or some unwashed minstrels singing the songs of 
 their far-off Rhine ; but, I am sure that I never see an 
 Italian cast-monger staggering beneath his load of Graces 
 and Napoleons, Tuscan vases, Walter Scotts and Dianas, 
 without wishing him well as an unconscious missionary of 
 Art, come from his sunny land to minister pleasure to the 
 lowly, and refinement to the rude ; for though the moulds, from 
 which they are taken, be worn and old, his casts yet retain 
 something of the stamp of genius, and give sufficient gratifi- 
 
168 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 cation to excite a wish for more. The lithographs may be 
 rude and gaudy, cinerary urns be turned into flower vases, 
 goddesses made to hold candles, and cross-legged Cupids to 
 read little books ; but you will rarely find, in a humble fami- 
 ly, a taste for these ornaments unaccompanied by neatness, 
 temperance, and thrift. They are like the cherished plants 
 in the window, the green creepers in the yard, or the caged 
 singing-bird on the wall, signs of a fondness for home, and a 
 desire to cultivate those virtues which make home peaceful 
 and happy. 
 
 But, gentlemen, independently of benevolent considerations, 
 we must not allow ourselves to despise such methods of Art, be- 
 cause we have been educated by fortunate circumstances, or 
 inspired, as you are, by a more fortunate genius to perceive 
 its higher beauties. It is chiefly from them, that we must 
 hope for the awakening of a national taste. The ancient 
 States where Art most flourished, were small in territory. 
 Every citizen of Attica could look often upon the glories of 
 the Parthenon and the Poecile. The temples of Elis, of Del- 
 phi, and the sacred Delos, and even the desert shrine of the 
 Lybian Ammon, attracted vast crowds of religious pilgrims. 
 The various public games brought together the most generous 
 youth and sage elders, not merely to engage in exercises 
 which displayed the finest forms in the finest attitudes, but 
 also to enjoy the poet's noblest lays, the painter's best pictures, 
 and the sculptor's most finished works. The aristocratic forms 
 of Europe call around the sovereign in his capital those who 
 represent the wealth and power of the nation, and it is both 
 policy and pride which employs Art to give magnificence to 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. ] 6il 
 
 abodes of authority, and to cover with grace the deformities 
 of oppressive rule. Our people, on the contrary, are widely 
 scattered. "We have, and can have, but few great cities, and 
 none of general resort. The country, in national questions,. 
 must rule the town. Large wealth can rarely be acquired^ 
 and yet more rarely transmitted to a third generation. Hap- 
 pily for our liberties, the political power must remain with 
 those who are not beyond the necessity of personal toil. As,. 
 therefore, the influence of the pencil and the chisel can reach 
 immediately but few, the many are to be sought out by means 
 which admit of greater multiplication and wider extent. Yet 
 we may believe, that if our people could have placed before 
 them such cheap exhibitions of Art, and were at the same 
 time made acquainted with the estimation in which Art was 
 held by the ancient republics, and the best minds of all ages ; 
 the glory with which it has illustrated nations ; the patriotism 
 it has cultivated, and the lucrative advantages it has secured ; 
 they would become as distinguished for a generous taste, as 
 they are for a love of freedom. Obscure genius, which might 
 otherwise have died unknown in some distant forest hamlet, 
 may be called forth and encouraged to successful vigor, as was 
 the talent of young West by a few engravings of Grevling. 
 Each new aspirant after the distinctions or pleasures of Art, 
 would be a centre of new influence over the minds of others. 
 We should learn to have a grateful pride in the praise 
 given to American Art abroad, and desire to wipe oflP the dis- 
 honoring imputation, that American Artists must go abroad 
 to obtain a just appreciation. Thus, soon, the sentiment 
 would become so general and so strong, that the scholar who 
 
 15 
 
170 THE PROSPECTS OF AKT 
 
 records our country's story ; the painter who illustrates its 
 grand events ; the sculptor who perpetuates in undying mar- 
 ble the forms of our mighty dead ; the orator whose glowing 
 arguments persuade us to the pursuit of their examples ; the 
 poet whose bold minstrelsy animates our patriotic ardor, 
 and the architect, whose genius sheds venerable grace over 
 our shrines of devotion, our seats of learning, and our halls of 
 authority, (showing us, as in a constant parable, that stability 
 ever resides in strength combined with harmony,) will be 
 deemed worthy to share the high regard of their fellow citizens 
 with the warrior who sheds his blood, and the statesman who 
 devotes his far-sighted wisdom for their country's welfare. 
 He, who preserves and blesses his country in peace, is cer- 
 tainly equal to him who fights for it in war ; and he, who sug- 
 gests or confirms a reverence for laws, to him who writes and 
 prescribes them. 
 
 There is very great reason to believe in the future success 
 of Art among us. Our people, when excited in any pursuit, 
 allow no limits to their enthusiasm, and have shown them- 
 selves beneath none in variety of genius and courage of enter- 
 prise. Hitherto their attention has been compelled to engage- 
 ments of more immediate usefulness, by the necessities of our 
 new confederacy and numerous State governments, the rush 
 of our increasing population, the wealth hidden beneath our 
 original forests, the facility afforded to manufactures by the 
 rapid descent of many a broad stream, the desire of bringing 
 distant points nearer together, and of interlacing our interests 
 by rail-roads and canals, and the agitation of many questions 
 in finance or political morals, which have never arisen else- 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 171 
 
 where, but must be decided by us. Yet how great have been 
 the honors already attained, I had well nigh said compelled, 
 from the world ? The name which, by the unanimous suf- 
 frage of mankind, stands highest on the roll of uninspired hu- 
 manity, is that of Washington. He who, since the day of 
 Newton, has given the strongest impulse to the application of 
 physical science, made his bold experiments on the lightning 
 of heaven from the plains near our own city, and sleeps be- 
 neath his modest tomb in a corner of Christ Church burial- 
 ground ; whither the stranger from every land, and the native 
 of his own, turn their pilgrim feet to do honor to the memory 
 of the Yankee adventurer, the apprentice printer, the poor 
 man's honest counsellor, the Philadelphia editor, the Ameri- 
 can statesman, the baffler of European diplomacy, and the 
 philosopher who taught the world. The authority of Marshall 
 and Kent receives reverence from every great and just tri- 
 bunal. Improvements in jurisprudence made among us, and 
 especially within our own State, have been the basis (unac- 
 knowledged but not the less real) of extensive judicial reforms 
 in that very country which claims to have taught us all we 
 know.* The name of Irving is already coupled with that of 
 Addison ; and in a single day, as it were, Prescott has risen 
 to take his place with Gibbon and Hume, while, for truth of 
 narrative and benevolence of feeling, he is above them both. 
 The genius of Bowditch burns brightly near the compass and 
 the quadrant of almost every bark that tempts the trackless 
 ocean. The mighty energies of steam, first successfully ap- 
 plied to navigation by our own Fulton, now speeds the flying 
 
 * Appendix (B.) 
 
172 THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 car over the rail-ways of Europe, controlled and directed by 
 the superior ingenuity of American skill. The exquisite in- 
 vention of Daguerre, recent as it is, shall soon be returned to 
 him from this western world, stripped of half its mechanical 
 arrangements, and capable of a more ready and useful adap- 
 tation. These instances, snatched at random from a multitude, 
 prove that there is among our people a boldness and original- 
 ity, which cannot fail to secure great success in the liberal 
 arts, when more favorable circumstances demand their more 
 zealous cultivation. Even now the catalogue of American 
 Artists must be regarded with great respect when we read 
 upon it such names as those of President West, Copely, Stuart, 
 Allston, Newton, Harding, Cole, Greenough, Inman, and oth- 
 ers,* of whose talents my inferior knowledge will not permit 
 me to pronounce an opinion, or whose modest worth I must 
 not cause to blush, even by just praise, when I see them pre- 
 sent. 
 
 The Arts, indeed, have made surprising progress in the 
 United States, when we consider the temptations which op- 
 portunities of wealth and political distinction offer to men of 
 genius, and the poverty of reward, whether of honor or gain, 
 which our countrymen have had the leisure or means to be- 
 stow upon them. In none, perhaps, is this more apparent, 
 than in the noble and useful art of architecture. Mr. Ver- 
 planck, in his admirable discourse before the New York Acad- 
 emy, at the opening of their exhibition in 1824, quotes the 
 strong language of Mr. Jefferson, that " the genius of architec- 
 ture seems to have shed its malediction over this land ;" and 
 
 * Appendix (C.) 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 173 
 
 the accomplished friend of Art, confirms the sentence. But 
 since that address was delivered, a change has passed over us 
 and the power of the curse has been greatly diminished. The 
 simple grandeur of the Doric, the feminine dignity of the Ion- 
 ic, and the leafy grace of the Corinthian, as they have been 
 presented to us by the labors of those of our countrymen, who 
 have gone back through ages of barbarism to find masters in 
 the Grecian schools, have already done much to win us from 
 our childish fondness for modern frippery. A few noble build- 
 ings (especially I may say, some which adorn our own city 
 and its neighborhood,) have given a wide-spread influence to 
 a better taste, and the ruling desire is now evidently for the 
 pure, rather than the showy. It is true that our means or our 
 spirit have not as yet warranted the erection of many massive 
 structures, but we begin to see on every hand the well pro- 
 portioned pediment, the harmonious fajade, and interiors stu- 
 diously correspondent to the external style. Perhaps our im- 
 itation of ancient models has been even too strict. There must 
 be, in the end, more adaptation to our climate and peculiar 
 circumstances. If we are obliged to make Egyptian build- 
 ings several stories high, we certainly are not obliged to con- 
 fine the ornaments to the eternal scarabasus, a most unseemly 
 emblem of a false mythology ; nor when copying the lines of 
 a Grecian temple for a Christian church, need we insist up- 
 on retaining the attributes of the heathen god. The ancients 
 were never guilty of such mistakes. There was an intellec- 
 tuality in their architecture, which always expressed the pur- 
 pose of an edifice, not only in its general structure, but m the 
 most minute decoration. They never built a temple of Plutus 
 15* 
 
174 THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 in the noble style which enshrined the Olympian Jove, or a 
 shrine of the virgin Minerva in all the florid luxuriance which 
 the Corinthian goddess loved so well. The vine-wreaths of 
 Bacchus were never seen on the gates of Diana, nor the pea- 
 cock of Juno, where the doves and sparrows of Venus should 
 have sported. But such incongruities (my remarks upon 
 which may seem hypercritical,) will soon be avoided. Nice 
 imitation of faultless models is the best study for our infant 
 architecture. After the mind is filled with pure ideas, and 
 the taste refined by conversation with perfect forms, we shall 
 be better prepared to combine, adapt, and invent. 
 
 The Gothic order, that wonderful combination of solemn 
 grandeur with luxuriant tracery, which astounds and enchants 
 the American traveller in Europe, as he treads the aisles of 
 time-worn cathedrals and crumbling cloisters, can never at 
 least ought never to be established among us, at least not un- 
 til we build merely for the sake of building. The gloom of 
 the dark ages, in Avhich it arose, has passed away. Our 
 churches are now the abodes of clear truth, not of oppressive 
 mystery ; places of lowly and glad worship, not of long pro- 
 cessions and pompous display. The Grecian styles suit our 
 religion far better. The false poetry of "a dim religious 
 light" does not agree with our faith in the God of love, who 
 lifts upon his people the smile of a father's countenance. To 
 one who has visited " Fair Melrose," " Fairy Roslin," the 
 Seventh Henry's Chapel, the subUme Yorkminster, the ruins 
 of ancient St. Joseph's at Glastonbury, or the magnificent ca- 
 thedrals and beU towers on the continent, there is not a Gothic 
 building in our land that does not look a puny and ridiculous 
 
IN THE UNITED STA.TES. 175 
 
 abortion. Yet candor must admit, that our recent ecclesias- 
 tical buildings, after the Grecian models, promise a far better 
 taste and propriety than the modern churches in our mother 
 country. The high-backed pews ; the inconvenient and mean- 
 ingless recesses by which the church is tortured into the shape 
 of the cross ; the gloomy windows, granting little light, and 
 less air ; the tub-like pulpits, in which the preacher suffers 
 like another Regulus, and the dizzy galleries, where the peo- 
 ple look like swallows on the house-top, have given place to 
 arrangements, which enable all to see and hear and worship 
 without doing penance. 
 
 It has been objected to us, that we use inferior materials, 
 such as wood and stuccoed brick, instead of stone and marble ; 
 and it were well if we could afford to employ the more mas- 
 sive and durable ; but certainly anything is better than red 
 brick and glaring freestone. It is not an improbable theory, 
 the pines of Thessaly, and the oaks of Dodona in Epirus, gave 
 the Greeks their first ideas of tall columns and massive pillars, 
 as the interbranching of the Druid groves taught the Gothic 
 arch. The architrave, the triglyphs and metopse, are memo- 
 rials of the use of timber before the quarries of Pentelicus 
 were opened. Why may we not hew our stately trees until 
 we are able to copy them in laborious stone ? Why may we 
 not face our bricks with composition until we can do more 
 than imitate the Romans, vfho faced them with marble ? Color 
 and form are far more important than material. I am grate- 
 ful to every citizen who relieves my eye by painting his house 
 any hue but red, provided he do not choose a tawny yellow.* 
 
 * Appendix (D.) 
 
176 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 Encourage yourselves, gentlemen, in all your departments, 
 by this rapid growth of taste in architecture. It assures you 
 that your countrymen have an eye for proportion and purity, 
 to which no art of design can long appeal in vain. 
 
 Our strong national enthusiasm in favor of everything 
 American, is another sure ground of encouragement. We 
 have often carried this to a ridiculous excess ; but it is an 
 amiable and honorable characteristic that we long to stand 
 well in the opinion of the world ; nay, it is a philanthropic 
 wish, which prompts us to recommend our free principles for 
 universal adoption. It is, indeed, mortifying to read the ex- 
 travagant praise lavished by kind-hearted critics upon every 
 person and every thing that appears before the public. If 
 Cicero were to arise from the dead, and pronounce an oration 
 before us, he would be obliged to share epithets with every 
 fledgeling lecturer, or electioneering declauner. The anony- 
 mous fiUer up of the poet's corner in a daily newspaper, 
 always sings like Homer, but 
 
 " Never like him nods." 
 
 A surgeon cannot set a broken finger, or a physician admin- 
 ister a bolus, but the grateful patient proclaims him a very 
 Aristotle or Hippocrates. 
 
 " He beats the deathless Esculapius hollow, 
 And makes a starveling druggist of Apollo." 
 
 We have clever men undoubtedly. We have had, still have, 
 and shall have great ones. But all the Eomans were not 
 Fabii ; and black swans are rare as ever, except in New 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 177 
 
 Holland. Even American humanity must have some pig- 
 mies, if it be only for the sake of showing off our giants by 
 the contrast. Such injudicious encomium has an especially 
 mischievous effect upon the young Artist. He is peculiarly 
 sensitive of public opinion. I will not say that he belongs to 
 
 " A simple race, who waste their toil 
 For the vain tribute of a smile :" 
 
 but he feels that it is not enough to cry with the Pisan before 
 his own works, " Bene ! Bene !" without an echo to his ex- 
 clamation. It is the hope of praise which cheers him. in his 
 lone and enthusiastic toil ; but, if praise be withheld, his gen- 
 ius droops the wing and dies. It is most unkind to feed this 
 generous appetite into morbid extravagance, as unkind as it 
 was in that populace who smothered their patriot with the 
 robes they heaped upon him for his honor. Chiselling a head, 
 without a model, from a rough stone, does not make a Phidias 
 or Thorwaldsen ; painting one fair face, a Titian or a Guide ; 
 or copying a landscape, a Salvator or Poussin. Long study 
 and learning, the abandonment of many a habit, and patient 
 failure, were necessary to raise even the best masters to de- 
 served eminence. Eaffaelle learned from Massaccio. The 
 Artist, even when he finds the flattering unction most sweet, 
 knows that there should be some extraordinary merit to de- 
 serve it. He becomes impatient of a slow and sure pro- 
 gress, and is sadly tempted to substitute eccentricity for 
 boldness ; glare for brilliancy, or dark confusion for depth of 
 shadow. He varies his pursuit, and, forgetting the maxim : 
 " NoH omnes omnia," undertakes to excel where his genius 
 
178 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 does not lead. All this, the more prudent and experienced 
 among you know well, but a word of caution may not be lost. 
 Let us all remember, that the truest friendship is that which 
 points out faults with kindness, and praises with faithful cau- 
 tion. We learn best from those who tell us when we are 
 wrong. The most ignorant can thus teach something, as the 
 cobbler who criticized the shoe of Apelles, or an indignant 
 laundress, who protested that she never washed the shirt with 
 which Jarvis had indued her master. 
 
 There is a fault in our country, now less rarely met with, 
 of condemning without measure or exception, everything 
 American. It is chiefly to be found among those who return 
 
 " from foreign tour, 
 Grown ten times perter than before ;" 
 
 too good to be plain repubhcans, after having uncovered their 
 heads to royalty, or stood within the threshold of an aristo- 
 cratic ball room; who can talk of nothing but dinners at 
 Very's ; ices at the Cafe de Paris, or green oysters at the 
 Rocher de Cancale ; who have either not mind enough, or not 
 heart enough, to love their own land above all others. These 
 men will pass through your exhibitions, " naso adunco," full 
 of scraps from foreign languages, and abusing, by misuse, the 
 terms of Art, give you to understand that, in their opinion, 
 nothing which you can produce, is worth looking at by one 
 who has seen the Buckingham Gallery, the Louvre, the Vati- 
 can or the Bourbon Collections. They will often parade upon 
 their walls miserable dark daubs, imposed upon them by 
 scheming picture dealers, as works of the old masters, but 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 179 
 
 cannot think, for a moment, of buying an American picture. 
 Heed them not. The true lover of Art sees some beauty 
 even in a poorer picture, and can detect a latent power in the 
 new and nameless pencil. He must prefer the best ; but, as 
 a critic and a patriot, he will acknowledge the good if a coun- 
 tryman has produced it ; and, for Art's sake, he is sure to en- 
 courage merit, however slight it may seem at first to be. 
 There is, for instance, a sign of a horse on Market street, 
 which I often see in my walks ; faulty it may be, and injured 
 by exposure to all weathers, and yet, I venture to assert, that 
 one who can look at it without some degree of pleasure, would 
 scarcely enjoy Paul Potter's bull. 
 
 Notwithstanding these opposite errors, we may rely with 
 confidence upon our strong sense of national reputation for 
 the support of Art. Let it be shown by your skill and devo- 
 tion, that the Arts do embellish and exalt our country, and 
 and they shall receive a grateful return of reward and honor. 
 
 It is well for those, who have sufiicient wealth, to bring 
 among us good works of foreign or ancient masters, especially 
 if they allow free access to them for students and copyists. 
 The true gems are, however, rare, and very costly. A single 
 masterpiece would swallow up the whole sum, which even the 
 richest of our countrymen would be willing to devote in the 
 purchase of paintings. I hope, however, soon to see the day, 
 when there shall be a fondness for making collections of works 
 hy American Artists, or those resident among us. Such col- 
 lections, judiciously made, would supply the best history of 
 the rise and progress of the Arts in the United States. They 
 would, more than any other means, stimulate Artists to a 
 
180 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 generous emulation. Thej would reflect high honor upon 
 their possessors, as men who love Art for its own sake, and 
 are willing to serve and encourage it. They would highly 
 gratify the foreigner of taste, who comes curious to observe 
 the working of our institutions and our habits of life. He 
 does not cross the sea to find Van Dycks and Murillos. He 
 can enjoy them at home ; but he wishes to discover what the 
 children of the "West can do in following or excelling Euro- 
 pean example. The expense of such a collection could not 
 be very great. A few thousands of dollars, less than is often 
 lavished upon the French plate glass and lustres, damask 
 hangings, and Turkey carpets, of a pair of parlors, (more than 
 which few of our houses can boast) would cover their walls 
 with good specimens of American Art, and do far more credit 
 to the taste and heart of the owner. Rich furniture, to say 
 nothing of the bad taste of crowding with it such petty apart- 
 ments, is little better than a selfish and rude ostentation of 
 wealth, to excite the envy of guests ; and it is not in human 
 nature to think better of others, who insist upon showing that 
 they are richer than we. Riches, though they gain, for ob- 
 vious reasons, outAvard deference, when they are mere riches 
 without taste or refinement, are always secretly despised, and 
 their possessors are, by the judgment of the world, like vile 
 pottery upon which gold has been wasted in useless gilding. 
 There are those, who cannot look upon a mirror without see- 
 ing within it a beautiful picture, dearer to their eyes than any 
 other upon earth ; but many of us would prefer a landscape 
 by Coles or Doughty, to any such personal reflections of our- 
 selves ; and care little whether we trod upon Brussels or in- 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 181 
 
 grain, sat upon velvet or hair cloth, if we might, by the kind 
 bounty of our entertainer, enjoy the genius of our dear native 
 land. It has become, I am told, unfashionable to put pictures 
 upon the walls, except it be in a gallery, which few can afford 
 to have. If so, it is a bad habit, which should be amended ; 
 a habit which must lower us in the scale of true refinement, 
 and greatly impede the progress of true taste. 
 
 Our national enterprise, in pursuit of wealth, will also serve 
 the cause of the liberal arts, when their value is better under- 
 stood. A large portion of the population of Italy, and other 
 countries of the old world, live upon the Arts alone ; and our 
 Artists, if properly encouraged, would, instead of being com- 
 pelled, as many of them are, to reside abroad, induce the flow 
 of wealth, the rewards of their skill, into their native land. 
 There can be no multiplication of wealth so great as that 
 which may be secured by the application of colors to a sheet 
 of canvas, of the chisel to a block of stone, or of the graver 
 to a plate of copper, when directed by the hand of genius. 
 The colors which combined to make a masterpiece, now worth 
 a prince's revenue, were originally purchased for a few dol- 
 lars. A slight etching, by Rembrandt, sold at auction, a few 
 years since, in London, for a hundred and twenty guineas ; 
 and the late William Carey, whose zeal for the Arts expired 
 only with his life, asserts, in his Address to your Association, 
 that the copper plate on which WooUet engraved West's 
 Death of Wolfe, produced a gain of not less than fourteen 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 The influence of Art upon necessary trades and manufac- 
 tures is very valuable. The more graceful forms are ever 
 16 
 
182 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 the more simple, useful, and even economical ; and the most 
 common articles of household service may be profitably modi- 
 fied after the lines of a true taste. It is the taste displayed in 
 the colors and patterns of calicoes and ginghams, which urges 
 their sale more than any comparative excellence of the fabrics ; 
 and the country girl, who chooses her holiday dress, does an 
 unwitting homage to the same genius the amateur admires in 
 the finished picture. The cabinet-maker, who judiciously 
 copies most from the antique, will find the most ready demand 
 for his furniture, even from those who never dream of being 
 indebted to liberal art ; and many a diligent mechanic, who 
 has spent hard labor upon good mahogany, and wonders why 
 his ware lingers upon his hands, might find the secret of his 
 ill success in a disproportioned panel, a stumpy column, or a 
 spindle leg. It is well known, that skilful Artists are em- 
 ployed by the manufacturers of useful articles in Europe, to 
 suggest their forms and embellishments. Wedgewood, a 
 Staffordshire potter, secured an unrivalled preeminence for 
 his earthen-ware, by his fortunate engagement of young Flax- 
 man to model his vessels. The Artist, thus introduced to no- 
 tice, afterwards became the most gifted and spiritual sculptor 
 of modem times ; but not before he had made the fortune of 
 his early patron, and improved the trade of England immea- 
 surably ; so that it may with truth be said, that the same ge- 
 nius, which has illustrated the sublime Homer and the pure 
 Euripides, turned the clay of Staffordshire into more than 
 gold. Our manufactures need such an influence from Art 
 more than anything else, and a liberal and far-sighted patron- 
 age of Artists would soon render it unnecessary, by the con- 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 183 
 
 sent of all, to strain the constitution for the enactment of pro- 
 tective tariffs. 
 
 But we may look for the success of Art in the United 
 States to higher causes. The remains of Puritan severity, 
 and Quaker stiffness, with the incessant demand upon our en- 
 terprise, made by the circumstances of a new country, have 
 not been favorable to the development of genius among us ; 
 yet enough has been seen to show that our people have a 
 sti'ong sense of poetry and eloquence. We have very few 
 great poets, but we have very many whose artless fingers 
 draw sweet and glowing strains from the lute and lyre. Our 
 scenery, our noble rivers, rushing streams, limpid lakes, wild 
 cascades, deep forests, gorgeous sunsets, clear atmosphere, and 
 autumnal variegation, with the high aspirations which free- 
 dom awakens in every generous bosom, give us all the thoughts 
 of poetry. The power of expressing thought in rapid and 
 energetic language, is an American characteristic- To say 
 nothing of the high eloquence which is heard in our legisla- 
 tive halls, our courts of justice and our pulpits, there is scarcely 
 a man among us who cannot rise, upon a fitting occasion, and 
 harangue in good set phrases. Our 'prentice mechanics meet 
 at the close of the day's labor, to cultivate their talents in es- 
 says and debates. The crowds which have thronged this hall,* 
 and other places of assemblage throughout the whole country, 
 to listen eagerly, and with no small discrimination, to multi- 
 tudes of clever orators, demonstrate a general appreciation of 
 eloquence. What is Art but another form of poetry and elo- 
 quence ? When do we feel the power of the bard or of the 
 
 * The Hall of the Musical Fund Society. 
 
184 THE PROSPECTS OP ART 
 
 orator most ? Is it not when he brings the idea he would im- 
 press, fully, as in a picture, before the eye of the mind? 
 Phidias assured his countrymen that Homer was his master ; 
 and we can never enter as deeply into the spirit of the great 
 tragic writers of Attica, as when we behold their thoughts 
 made visible by the designs of Flaxman. Who that has 
 looked upon the statue of the Dying Gladiator, but has felt 
 the power of the sculptor and the poet to be of kindred source, 
 when he remembered Byron's picture of the same victim ! 
 
 " I see before me the Gladiator lie ; 
 
 He leans upon his hand, his manly brow 
 Consents to death, but conquers agony, 
 
 And his droop'd head sinks gradually low, 
 
 And through his side the last drops ebbing slow, 
 Erom the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, 
 
 Like the first of a thunder shower ; but now 
 The ai-ena swims around him ; he is gone, 
 Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. 
 
 He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes 
 
 Were with his heart, and that was far away; 
 He recked not of the life he lost nor prize, 
 
 But where his rude hut, by the Danube lay, 
 
 There were his young barbarians all at play — 
 There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire. 
 
 Butchered to make a Roman holiday — 
 All this rushed with his blood — Shall he expire 
 And unrevenged ? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire !" 
 
 A young pupil of Thoi'waldsen, has recently surprised and 
 delighted the admirers of genius at Rome, by a figure of a 
 
IK THE UNITED STATES. 185 
 
 girl, holding a sea-shell to her ear, and listening with child- 
 like wonder to the mysterious sounds of the ocean she seems 
 to hear from within it. A more exquisite subject for the 
 chisel can scarcely be imagined ; and it is most unlikely that 
 the young German ever read Wordsworth's Excursion ; yet, 
 in that most natural poem, we find the same thought. 
 
 " I have seen 
 A carious child, who dwelt upon a tract 
 Of inland ground, applying to his ear 
 The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell, 
 To which, in silence hushed, his very soul 
 Listened intensely ; and his countenance soon 
 Brightened with joy ; for murmurings from within 
 "Were heard, sonorous cadences, whereby, 
 To his^elief, the monitor expressed 
 Mysterious union with its native sea. 
 Even such a shell the universe itself 
 Is, to the ear of faith." 
 
 Here is a picture by a poet, the scenery of which a Claude 
 should paint, and a Guido Reni put in the figures : 
 
 " As o'er the lake, in evening's glow, 
 
 The temple threw its lengthening shade 
 Upon the marble steps below, 
 
 There sat a fair Corinthian maid. 
 Gracefully o'er a volume bending ; 
 
 "While by her side a youthful sage 
 Held back her ringlets, lest, descending, 
 
 They should o'ershadow all the page." 
 
 I have not time for more instances, which are abundant The 
 16* 
 
186 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 coincidence between Art and Oratory, though equally striking, 
 is more difficult of illustration ; for the orator, is ever pressing 
 forward to his conclusion, and the pictures he presents to us, 
 are moving, or he shifts scene after scene, as he follows 
 thought with thought. Yet how fully does Massillon bring 
 before us the Magdalene kneeling at the Saviour's feet, in the 
 house of the Pharisee ? "What can be finer than the manner 
 in which he contrasts the death of the sinner with that of the 
 righteous person ; how perfectly, with a painter's imagination, 
 does he set off the lights of the one with the shadows of the 
 other ? But Massillon, in his Life of Correggio, proves how 
 deep his sympathy with Art was. Barrow's description of 
 the crucifixion, in his sermon on the passion of our Lord, 
 might be studied by the Artist for a better picture than has 
 ever been produced on the subject. Then, what noble illus- 
 trations of moral truth might be copied from portions of 
 Burke's Speeches in Parliament ? What force of grouping 
 and expression is there, when Anthony describes the death of 
 Caesar, as 
 
 " In his mantle muffling up his face, 
 Even at the base of Pompey's statue, which 
 All the while ran blood, great Caesar fell." 
 
 But I need not detain you with further examples to show 
 that 
 
 " AH they 
 Whose intellect is an o'ermastering power, 
 
 Which still recoils from its encumbering clay, 
 Or lightens it to spirit, whatsoe'er 
 
 The form which their creations may essay, 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 187 
 
 Are kin ; the kindled marble's bust may wear 
 More poesy upon its speaking brow, 
 
 Than aught less than the Homeric page may bear. 
 
 One noble stroke with a whole life may glow, 
 
 Or sanctify the canvas till it shine 
 With beauty far surpassing all below, 
 
 * * * # 
 
 Transfused, transfigured ; and the line 
 Of poesy, which peoples but the air 
 With thoughts and beings of the mind reflected, 
 Can do no more." 
 
 The people that can feel the glow and grandeur of thought, 
 must feel Art, when there are productions worthy of the 
 name. 
 
 The common opinion may be quoted against this argument, 
 that Art flourishes best where popular superstitions, especially 
 in religious mythology, supply subjects for the Artist's illustra- 
 tion. That opinion is, however, an error. The real merit 
 and charm of Art is truth, and it can never derive a real ad- 
 vantage from falsity. It was not the god, the ancients ad- 
 mired in the Phidian Jupiter, but the dignity of conscious 
 power. Venus was the ideal of voluptuous beauty, and 
 Minerva of pure, harmonious wisdom. It is deep penitence, 
 charmed by hope from its despair, that we see in the Magda- 
 lene ; a mother's serene and holy joy in the Virgin Mary, 
 showing her babe Jesus ; and faith, struggling with mortal 
 agony, in the dying Bartholomew. It is not the person, but 
 the attributes, which move our souls. 
 
188 THE PROSPECTS OP AKT 
 
 But are there no subjects among us, which may be made 
 the vehicles of such impressions ? Would not the moral ad- 
 vantage of Art be far greater if illustrations of virtue were 
 drawn from actual incidents, or presented in pure allegory ? 
 That change has taken place in poetry. We hear no more 
 of Strephons and Phillises, in our pastorals ; and a bard of 
 our own day, who would invoke the " heavenly nine," or 
 " Phoebe," or the " Golden-haired god of Day," would find 
 them unable to propitiate us to a further reading. Why may 
 not Art be stripped of unnatural envelopments ? Our his- 
 tory, our daily lives are full of subjects for the painter's 
 study ; — the mother of Washington teaching her boy those 
 sublime lessons, which, by the grace of God, made him " first 
 in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen ;" 
 Patrick Henry, denouncing the tyranny of Britain, in the 
 Virginian council house ; the patriot-mother arming her first- 
 born for the doubtful conflict ; the virgin, tearless in her lofly 
 hope, sending her lover to the long campaign, and promising her 
 livelong faith for no less reward than her country's freedom. 
 Or, if you wish a presentment of venerable piety, holy be- 
 nevolence and wisdom in meekness, bid the sculptor preserve 
 in undying marble the patriarchal form of him, whom every 
 sect acknowledged " a Father in God ;" and who hngered so 
 long among us, shedding his soft religion around like the mild 
 rays of a summer's sunset, that he seemed like virtue which 
 can never die, though heart and flesh must fail. It is a 
 shame to us, as a religious community, that such a work re- 
 mains to be done.* 
 
 * The late Bishop White. Appendix (E.) 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 189 
 
 It is in employments like these Art must find her noblest 
 office. No patriot, no moralist, no true lover of Art, should 
 wish to see genius prostituted in producing nude and voluptu- 
 ous figures, appealing to profligate pruriency for reward, and 
 corrupting our morals in return. Such abuse has done more 
 to prejudice the good against Art than all else beside. But 
 such abuse is not a necessary consequence of its cultivation, 
 any more than of the pen or the press, those mighty engines 
 of social good, though vile men have often seduced them from 
 their true purpose. Let it be your care, gentlemen Artists, 
 to guard the fire of genius with vestal watchfulness. 
 
 There never was, I believe, a body of Artists in whom 
 greater confidence can be reposed for this end, than those of 
 our country. The time has gone by, when profligacy was 
 excused as an eccentricity of genius ; when talent had license 
 for the breach of contracts, and envy and detraction made 
 enemies of brothers in Art. You have proved to us that 
 Artists, to deserve an entrance into your fraternity, must be gen- 
 tlemen, to whom truth and honor and liberal feeling, are dearer 
 even than fame itself. Your generous desire that no distinc- 
 tion in the national patronage should be made, between the 
 native Artist and the foreigner resident among you, is a high 
 example of philosophic freedom from petty jealousy, which 
 might be imitated with advantage in some other quarters.* 
 Hold on your noble course. You shall reap the reward 
 which virtue and genius deserve. You will ask no more. 
 Trial is the lot of genius, as the fire which purifies ; but the 
 
 * Appendix (F.) 
 
190 THE PROSPECTS OF ART 
 
 consciousness of high aims is an ever-present consolation. If 
 I dared to assume such language, I might address you, as 
 Wordsworth did the painter, Haydon : 
 
 " High is our calling, friends, creative art 
 (Whether the instrument of words she use 
 Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues) 
 Demands the service of a mind and heart, 
 Though sensitive, yet in their weakest part 
 
 Heroically fashioned, — to infuse 
 
 Faith in the whispers of the lonely muse, 
 While the whole world seems adverse to desert. — 
 
 And oh ! when nature sinks, as oft she may 
 Through long-lived pressure of ohscure distress, 
 Still to he strenuous for the liigh reward, 
 
 And in the soul admit of no decay. 
 Brook no continuance of weak mindedness — 
 
 Great is the glory, for the strife is hard !" 
 
 Let me also intreat from you, a grateful veneration for 
 that Divine Author and Benefactor of our being, who has 
 surrounded us with so many objects of beauty and grandeur, 
 and given us an eye and heart to enjoy the loveliness and 
 magnificence of his works. Shall we feel the rapture He 
 enkindles in our souls, and return no adoration and trust ? 
 Are not all his doings in nature intimations of Himself, faint 
 shinings forth of that world of beauty, love, and truth, 
 where he will receive all who know Him here ? If " an un- 
 devout astronomer be mad," so must be an infidel artist : for 
 he lives among miracles, and owns no faith. Believe me, 
 genius hath no school like Religion, no teacher like Christian 
 Hope. No where but in that Book, whose author hath writ 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 191 
 
 His name on nature, can we find such depths of tenderness, 
 such loftiness of thought, such imaginations of glorj, such 
 purity of truth. Our calling here should ever be a prepara- 
 tion for immortality. Poor will be the result of the most 
 successful search after this world's honors, if, when life's last 
 scene has shifted from before us, we are not permitted to hear 
 the voice of the Redeemer saying : " Friend, come up high- 
 er !" There is but one way that leads to that sublime rest, 
 where the soul lives in the blessedness of her strength. There 
 is but one portal through which we can pass to behold the 
 face of God in love. It is the way of holy faith, fruitful in 
 good works ; the perfect merit of the Lamb of God. May 
 that faith, and that inheritance, be given to us all ! 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 (A.) 
 
 In no department of Art has there been a more rapid advance than 
 in the application of water colors, for a few years past. The British So- 
 ciety of Water Color Painters, have, in their several exhibitions, shown 
 results surprising and delightful, which are but promises of yet more ex- 
 quisite perfection. The cheapness and facility of this Art should recom- 
 mend it to an increased attention in this country, as well calculated to 
 enlarge and refine the general taste among us. 
 
 (B.) 
 
 Some allusion to the fact here stated, may be found in a very inter- 
 esting address of our estimable fellow citizen, Mr. Thomas I. Wharton, 
 before the Society for the Celebration of the Landing of William Penn, 
 some years since. Mr. D. P. Brown has also treated it with his wonted 
 spirit, in his letter to Lord Brougham. 
 
192 THE PROSPECTS OF ABT 
 
 (C.) 
 
 I have no doubt, but that a better knowledge than my own, would 
 have suggested the names of not a few other of our native Artists as 
 worthy of mention ; and it is particularly pleasing to know, that tbere 
 are those, yet young in years and Art, who bid fair to need no friendly 
 herald to precede them in their way to well deserved fame. 
 
 (D.) 
 
 The author would not condemn all shades of yellow in the painting 
 of houses, but only the more glaring and the more heavy. There is a 
 pale gentle yellow, (I use the term not with artistical niccness, but in its 
 common sense,) which is very pleasing ; but even red itself is almost as 
 tolerable, as the vulgar gaudiness, or the dull deadness, with which some 
 of our citizens have coated their buildings. 
 
 (E.) 
 
 I am happy to learn that the subscription list to an engraving, now in 
 progress by WagstafF, of London, from Mr. Inman's admirable whole 
 length of the good Bishop, shows a very general reverence and love for 
 his memory, as it embraces the names of persons belonging to every re- 
 ligious denomination in this city. Some yet more durable and public 
 monument should, however, be erected to commemorate such unusual 
 worth. It is to be hoped, that the design talked of some years since, of 
 a monumental statue in the vestibule of Christ Church, may be revived. 
 Few among us would refuse to contribute for the purpose, and we shall 
 not soon have so fair an opportunity of securing a costly work of Art, 
 which will do honor at once to the taste and the religious sentiment of 
 our community. Inman's picture, (or the engraving from it,) vfiW afford 
 the sculptor the best authority, as it is considered by the family and 
 friends of the Bishop, to be as remarkable for its truth of resemblance as 
 for its power of execution. 
 
 I am happy to have here an opportunity of spreading before the pub- 
 lic, the noble Memorial of the Artists of Philadelphia to the Congress of 
 the United States, at the time when there was some hesitancy as to the 
 propriety of giving the public patronage to any Artists not born among 
 
m THE UNITED STATES. 193 
 
 us. It is a paper full of philosophic truth and generous sentiment, and 
 one which the opponent of all artificial restrictions upon industry and 
 invention cannot appreciate too highly. 
 
 To the Honorable the Senate and House of Representatives of the United 
 States, in Congress assembled. 
 
 The Memorial of " The Artists' Fund Society of Philadelphia," an insti- 
 tution conducted exclusively by Artists, and incorporated April 29, 
 1835, " for the purpose of advancing the happiness of their profession- 
 al brethren, and of promoting the cultivation of skill, the diflFusion of 
 taste, and the encouragement of living professional talent in the Arts 
 of Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, and engraving," 
 
 Eespectfullt eepeesents : 
 
 That your memorialists have heard, with infinite pleasure, of a pro- 
 position made, or about to be made, before Congress, for the execution 
 of sculptural decorations of the east front of the Capitol, at the seat of 
 the National Government, in conformity with the requisitions of the 
 original for the completion of that front ; and they deem it not improper, 
 as citizens of the United States, having an interest in all that relates to 
 the Arts, to exercise a privilege, in common with other professions, of 
 presenting, for the consideration of your honorable body, their views of 
 what, in their opinion, may advance the public good, and contribute to 
 elevate the character of those Arts which have always been the means 
 of transmitting to posterity a knowledge of the state of refinement and 
 intellectual standing of a people. 
 
 It is a gratifying evidence of the improvement of the times, that while 
 the Useful Arts are most liberally encouraged throughout this vast Re- 
 public; while public buildings, canals, rail-roads, and manufactories are 
 rapidly springing into existence, and human ingenuity and skill, in all 
 departments of the Mechanic Arts, are stimulated to vigorous and re- 
 newed exertion. Congress has not forgotten to foster and encourage the 
 Fine Arts. 
 
 The orders already given for a new device to our national coin ; the 
 intended decoration of the interior of our National Hall with paintings, 
 and the exterior with sculpture, afford an honorable employment to our 
 Artists ; and, if well executed, will both promote their own excellence 
 and advance the public taste. 
 
 Without meaning to inititute invidious comparisons, or to dictate to 
 those upon whom the selection of an Artist for employment upon the 
 
 17 
 
194 THE PKOSPECTS OF ART 
 
 Capitol devolves, your memorialists respectfully present to your notice 
 the name of Luigi Persico, a sculptor, now in Washington, who hoth 
 as an Artist and a man, is entitled to distinguished consideration. 
 
 Mr. Persico is an Italian by birtli, and your memorialists are aware 
 that many of their countrymen believe that none but natives are enti- 
 tled to Government patronage ; but your memorialists dissent from this 
 doctrine, and entertain the opinion that Artists of genius and high 
 moral character, whose works have a tendency to exalt the sentiments, 
 and refine the manners of the age, should, upon the fair principles of 
 competition, find an easy passport to employment in any part of the 
 civilized world. 
 
 It would be a matter of regret, if our countrymen should be found less 
 liberal than the people of other nations, in availing themselves of the 
 skill of accomplished foreign Artists, whose merit is so often accompa- 
 nied by valuable information and refined taste. The examples, in this 
 respect, which have been set for us abroad, are worthy of emulation. 
 We may point to the i-ecent case of our gifted countryman West, whose 
 name was rendered illustrious by the generous opportunities extended 
 to him in a foreign land, for the development of his genius in the high- 
 est department of painting ; who was honored by the personal favors of 
 the British monarch ; and even when the fame of Sir Joshua Eeynolds, 
 the founder of the English school, was at its height, received the ap- 
 pointment of Historical Painter to the King. But the American Artist, 
 in the true spirit of republican simplicity, rejected the royal proffer of 
 knighthood, received a more honorable distinction — the presidential 
 chair of the Eoyal Academy of Arts, given by the vote of the English 
 Artists. Copley, too, an American, was honorablj' received and en- 
 couraged in England, as were our Leslie, our Newton, and others, who 
 long since were acknowledged to be distinguished ornaments of the 
 British school. Much might be said, likewise, of the liberal encourage- 
 ment held out to foreigners upon the European continent : a striking 
 instance of which is presented in Thorwaldsen, by birth a Swede, who 
 was drawn from obscurity by the fostering care of foreign patronage, 
 and is now the boast of the Italian school of sculpture. This may, pos- 
 sibly, be the first petition which has reached your honorable body from 
 a Society of Artists ; but, unobtrusive as their profession maybe, your 
 memorialists gladly, in the present instance, avail themselves of their 
 constitutional privilege, to present to you their decided conviction, that, 
 to give an intellectual character to the Arts of a country, tliey must be 
 advanced to that standard by the impulse of unrestricted competition 
 and generous patronage, and that regard should be had to no other 
 
IN THE UNITED STATES. 195 
 
 qualifications but those of merit ; and that an equal influence should be 
 shed upon all who reside among us, whether their birth-place be in this 
 or in another land. Therefore, dismissing every naiTOW jealousy and 
 contracting prejudice, it is with pride that your memorialists — the 
 greater part of whom are native citizens — advance this doctrine, which 
 they firmly believe involves the welfare of the Arts of their beloved 
 country. 
 
 Tour memorialists, in conclusion, respectfully pray that your honor- 
 able body will allow to Mr. Persico's merits the weight to which they 
 are justly entitled, and that you will adopt such measures as your wis- 
 dom may dictate in favor of the object of this Memorial. 
 By order of the Artists' Fund Society, 
 
 JOHN NEAGLE, President. 
 Thomas B. Ashton, Secretary. 
 
 Philadelphia, February 1, 1837. 
 
DISCOURSE 
 
 DEATH OF WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, 
 
 PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OE AMERICA. 
 
 PBONOUNCED IN THE MOBNING OP 
 
 APRIL 11, 1841, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY BEQUEST. 
 
 17* 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 There is no teaclier of unerring truth but the Lord our 
 God, and our meditations in his House of Prayer should ever 
 be upon lessons which He hath given. It is not only from 
 his written Word that those lessons may be learned. He 
 speaks to us by the voice of Nature, for all his works are elo- 
 quent of instruction ; and by the doings of his Providence for 
 every event is ordered, to remind us that " He is God, and 
 beside Him there is none else." " There are diversities of 
 operations, but it is the same God, which worketh all in all." 
 Each is a revelation of that Divine Wisdom, in which the 
 awakened soul may hear " deep calling unto deep." Yes ! 
 often, when the Bible seems written for the careless heart in 
 vain ; when Nature, with all her varied wonders, fails to lead 
 us upward to her Maker and ours ; God, by some stupendous 
 act of Providence, compels us to tremble before his mysterious 
 Presence, and own the majesty of his resistless Might. At 
 such a time, we need not search his holy pages for a theme. 
 God gives the text, and it becomes us humbly to bow, and 
 learn as " God the Lord doth speak." 
 
 His terror is upon us now. As though an archangel had 
 blown his trump, an oracle has come forth to us from the high 
 
200 ON THE DEATH OF HARBISON. 
 
 place of our land. A wail of lamentation, like that of all Is- 
 rael weeping in RarQah, when they buried Samuel the Law- 
 giver ; a cry of dismay, such as burst from their despairing 
 hosts when the Ark was lost, has gone up from this vast na- 
 tion. The storm-cloud, whose portentous shadow suddenly 
 darkened all our borders with fear, has broken upon our heads. 
 Our many-hearted prayer has not been heard. Even as the 
 beseeching accents were upon our lips, the bolt fell — had 
 fallen. The chosen head of his countrymen ; the foremost 
 citizen of all, where all are free ; the hope, the trust, the very 
 idol of millions ; the hero, the patriot, the statesman, the vene- 
 rable father, when as yet his foot had but touched the Capito- 
 line height where authority welcomed him ; when the accla- 
 mations, that hailed with thundering response his earnest 
 promises of determined fidelity to his country's welfare, had 
 not died away among the far mountains of the confederacy ; 
 before his aged frame, borne down less by years than honors, 
 had slept one calm sleep from the weariness of grateful joy ; 
 hath ceased from among us, for God hath taken him. The 
 laurel and the civic wreath, that but a few days since mingled 
 their foliage with the hoariness of his illustrious head, are ly- 
 ing yet green upon his bier. His lips, scarce cold from the 
 fervor of classic eloquence,* and yet more recently hallowed, 
 
 • * The preacher frankly confesses that he is not one of those who 
 thought the classical references in which our late President so much 
 delighted, ill-timed or out of taste. The better writers of our language 
 have abounded in them, and it is a matter of regret that such allusions 
 are not more frequent. There is a gracefulness about the incidents of 
 Greek and Roman story as they have come down to us, which adorns, 
 while their example instructs. The charge of pedantry is easily made 
 by those who would conceal by a sneer their own ignorance of what 
 
ON THE DEATH OF HARBISON. 201 
 
 as we trust, with answered prayer, shall speak no more till 
 the morning of the resurrection. His ear, that had thrilled 
 with a nation's praises, and in his parting moments, with the 
 voice of holy preparation for a meeting with God ; that was 
 never before insensible to the voice of his country, hears not 
 her moanings around his tomb. His kindly heart, that throb- 
 bed high with noble purposes, is still. " The shield of the 
 mighty is vilely cast away, ... as though he had not been 
 anointed with oiL" " All they that are about him bemoan 
 him, and all they that know his name say, How is the strong 
 staff broken and the beautiful rod 1" " For, behold, the Lord, 
 the Lord of Hosts hath taken " from us .... " the mighty 
 man, and the man of war, the judge .... and the prudent, 
 and the ancient, and the honorable man, and the counsellor 
 . . . and the eloquent orator." 
 
 The calamity is ours, but for him (I speak of this life, 
 leaving the decisions of eternity where they are veiled from 
 mortal sight) it is well. His death has been glorious. His- 
 tory hath scarce an equal instance. The most lofty station, 
 the most noble office man can confer on man, was his; but 
 one difficult as it is eminent, which none has ever yet borne, 
 and, until political parties among us learn a more honorable 
 charity than any of them have manifested. I verily believe 
 none ever can bear, without meeting harsh and unjust judg- 
 ment from the prejudice of opponents. Indeed, we may say, 
 such is the vastness of its care, the variety of interests to be 
 
 every well-read man should know, and their insensibility to that which 
 every student must feel. No man understands the present, who cannot 
 compare it with the past. 
 
202 ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 
 
 watched over and adjusted, and the multitude of opinions to 
 be met, no mortal could fill that magistracy without exciting 
 the doubts and the censures of even honest, intelligent men. 
 But now, when hope in him was at the highest ; before envy 
 had found a joint in his harness for a dart ; or suspicion fixed 
 one shadow on his course ; or the horde of ofiice-seeking syco- 
 phants, who crushed him between the door-posts of his new 
 home by their indecent pressure, had turned with malignant 
 disappointment to bark at the hand from which they sought 
 bread, but that could not, or would not feed them all ; he has 
 gone to his rest with all his honors fresh around him. He, at 
 least, was not made to feel the sting of ingratitude and un- 
 merited reproach, as every one of those honorable patriots 
 who sat in that chair before him, aye, even Washington him- 
 self, felt it. The disturber of his memory must now seem 
 guilty of strange sacrilege, as though he robbed a grave. 
 
 But my duty, to-day, is not eulogy. It is to entreat you, 
 in the name of God, to profit by the lessons He teaches us in 
 this act of his providence. 
 
 What a severe rebuke does this sad event give to 
 political bigotry and eash invective against the 
 motives of those who differ from us in opinion! 
 
 Standing, in our imagination, this morning beside the grave 
 of our departed patriot, who, even of those that struggled 
 most against his rise, can look down upon his sleeping dust, 
 nor feel a pang of keen reproach, if ever he hath done his 
 honor wrong, or breathed a hasty word that might have 
 touched his honest heart, or cast an insult upon his time-hon- 
 ored name ? And vile, yes, very vile is he, whose resentments 
 the grave cannot still. 
 
ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 203 
 
 Whence this sacredness which death throws over the mem- 
 ory of character and life ? Is it because the dead are defence- 
 less, and return not an answer again ? Is it because God 
 hath come in between us and our fellow creature, and vindi- 
 cated his right to be judge alone ? Is it because in the humi- 
 liations of the sepulchre, we see the frailty of that nature we 
 share with the departed, our own aptness to err, and how lia- 
 ble we are to be misjudged? O my friends, why should we 
 wait for death to teach us charity, when it is too late to prac- 
 tise it, and repentance hath become remorse ? Why not re- 
 member that the living require our candor and forbearance ? 
 Nay, that we need their candor and forbearance ? Why re- 
 serve all our gentleness of judgment for the dead, who are 
 beyond the reach of our absolution ? They were once as the 
 living, and the living shall soon be as they. It is, indeed, 
 enough to bring us back to a better opinion of human nature, 
 to witness such a spectacle of union in sorrow and honor for 
 our departed chief among those, who, a little while since, were 
 divided into eai'nest and opposing factions ; but oh ! would it 
 not be far more ennobling, to see the living pledging them- 
 selves to the living over the fresh earth of his grave, that 
 henceforth, though they may honestly differ in their doctrines 
 and policy, they will yet believe in the uprightness of each 
 other's motives, and the sincerity of each other's belief? How 
 hateful does censorious bitterness and sneering suspicion look 
 in the face of your opponent ? Yet such is your deformity in 
 his sight, when you revile his principles and rail against Ms 
 friends. When, oh ! when shall this rancor, this cruel perse- 
 cution for opinion's sake, this damning inquisition after false 
 
204 ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 
 
 motives, this fratricidal rending of heart from heart, because 
 our mental vision is not the same — this exiling of the honor- 
 able from the honorable, because they have not the same sibi- 
 lation in their Shibboleth — this Avaste of wealth of mental 
 power and untiring zeal, which our country and our whole 
 country should enjoy — when shall it cease ? Must it be per- 
 petual ? I know that the words of a poor preacher are weak 
 against this strong and vast spreading evil ; but as I love my 
 country, and God knows I love her from my inmost heart, 
 and never more than in this hour of her sorrow, I must speak. 
 I cannot believe that I have a right to hate and despise my 
 brother because he reads another book than my own, or that 
 he should hate and despise me, because conviction forces me 
 to cling to mine. 
 
 How STRIKING IS THIS PROOF OF OUR DEPENDENCE UP- 
 ON God! 
 
 A vast number of our people were looking up to him, who 
 is gone, as a saviour and deliverer from the pressure of heavy 
 national distresses. Their confidence in his honest purpose to 
 do all that untiring zeal could do to achieve such a result, 
 was, I firmly believe, not misplaced. What would have been 
 the efiiciency of the means employed, it would be going be- 
 yond permitted limits for me to hazard an open conjecture. 
 I fear, however, that the cause and the cure of our troubles 
 lie deeper than the ability of any administration, however 
 able or patriotic, to reach. No government can save us, ex- 
 cept we be true to ourselves in frugahty, hard labor, and ster- 
 ling morality. I speak not as a politician, but as a teacher of 
 that Word which keeps the record — " In the sweat of thy 
 
ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 205 
 
 face thou shalt eat bread ;" and, " he who hasteth to be rich 
 hath an evil eye, and considereth not that poverty shall come 
 upon him ;" and yet again, " the borrower shall be servant to 
 the lender." But, certainly, there was large expectation and 
 enthusiastic hope in the skill and faithfulness of him, for 
 whose sudden and melancholy loss we wear these badges of 
 mourning. Your own hearts will tell you, whether, with such 
 expectations from the distinguished instrument, there was 
 mingled sufficient trust in Him, who is Sovereign over all, 
 and without whose blessing all the wit of man must fail. If 
 there hath been an idolatry of the creature, God hath vindi- 
 cated his own right to be our confidence and our stay. How 
 in a moment, when we least thought of it, has he dashed many 
 hopes in pieces ! He gave his messenger the warrant, and a 
 nation's prayers and tears could not stay the determined blow. 
 The work was as surely done beneath the proud roof of a na- 
 tion's love, as within the humble cabin on the far western bor- 
 der. We are in the hand of God, our lives, our fortunes, our 
 rulers. We are in the hand of God. O let us cast ourselves 
 humbly upon his promise, and seek his favor through Jesus 
 Christ his Son, that the hand of God may be the hand of a 
 Father, who blesses while He chastens. 
 
 How SOLEMN IS THE VTARNING- FOR US ALL TO PREPARE 
 TO MEET OUR GOD I 
 
 It has been idly said, that " Death loves a shining mark." 
 He is indeed busy with the great, but not less busy with the 
 obscure and mean. "The insatiate archer" has an arrow for 
 each of us. " To the same complexion we must come at last." 
 "The like event happeneth to us all." He has occasions 
 
 18 
 
206 ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 
 
 which are more remarkable, and rarely, indeed never in this 
 land, has he struck such terror by a single shaft as now. We 
 looked not for his coming to that honored threshold, now over- 
 hung with the melancholy signs of his dark presence. The 
 old soldier, it was fondly thought, had won new vigor from 
 the people's blessing ; — 
 
 For yet his lusty age seemed fresh and green, 
 His hoary head nobly erect was seen, 
 Nor needed he on stronger staff to lean.* 
 
 But he is gone. Death's next message may be to me, to you. 
 Are we ready ? O my hearer, let us not amuse ourselves 
 with dreamy imaginings. The change is awful from time to 
 eternity. It is as awful to meet the summons on our humble 
 beds, as though we were canopied with purple; alone, as 
 though surrounded by groups of pale friends. We know not 
 when he may come, but when he doth meet us, it is to bring 
 us suddenly before our God. While the Chief Magistrate 
 lay in the agonies of death, with a nation weeping around him, 
 how many, of whom the world knew little, were in the same 
 dread article ? As they passed the mysterious gate the ine- 
 qualities of earth were left behind. One moment beyond this 
 life, and it will avail us nothing whether we may have been 
 rich or poor, honored or unknown. Our eternity shall be be- 
 gun, an eternity of changeless blessedness, or of changeless 
 wo. If we be lost, who can sufl&ciently deplore the amazing 
 
 * Dum nova canities, dum prima et recta senectus, 
 Dum superest Lachesi quod torqueat et pedibus me 
 Porto meis, nullo dextram subeunte bacillo. 
 
 Juv. Sat. III. 26, 7, 8. 
 
ON THE BEATH OF HARRISON. 207 
 
 ruin ? and, as we look back on life, how poor will the whole 
 world appear to have been, compared with the undying an- 
 guish of the soul ? If we be saved, who can estimate the 
 weight of glory God shall bestow upon our immortal spirits ? 
 and, as we look back on life, how light will the utmost suffer- 
 ing here appear to have been, compared with eternal raptures 
 before the face of God ? Is it wise then to run such a despe- 
 rate risk as this ? Is it rational to abuse a very small part of 
 our being, and so render all the future miserable ? Ought we 
 not rather to prepare ourselves for our tremendous trial, and 
 prepare at once, that whether death come upon us at noon or 
 evening, at midnight or at dawn, he may find us watching ? 
 
 How IMPORTANT, THEREFORE, THAT WE CHOOSE AND 
 FOLLOW THE RELIGION OF OUR LORD JeSUS ChRIST ! 
 
 With what interest was the inquiry made, whether our 
 venerable President died a Christian ? and that, not by Chris- 
 tians only, but men who are but too indifferent to their own 
 religious safety ! What horror would have been added to 
 our present gloom, if indeed he had died and "left no sign" 
 of trust in the cross ? What unspeakable consolation to hear 
 so many cheering testimonies, that he was prepared to take 
 up his cross and follow Christ in the open walk of a Christian 
 profession? Wherefore is this anxiety about his religious 
 character, but because a hope on the promise of Christ was, 
 after all that could be heaped upon him by admiring millions, 
 the only treasure, dignity and delight, he could carry with 
 him into the eternal world. Better the lisping child that loves 
 Jesus, the very least in the kingdom of God, than the might- 
 iest of the sons of men without such faith ! 
 
208 ON THE DEATH OF HARRISON. 
 
 Come with me, my hearers, who are accustomed to enter 
 carelessly the house of God and listen with easy indifference 
 to the words of the preacher, as though they reached not the 
 pride of your position, nor suited the range of your thoughts ; 
 let me take you with me to the death chamber of him we 
 now mourn. Pale and worn, the hero, whom his country de- 
 lighted to honor, lies upon his fevei'ed bed. The statesmen 
 whom he had called to assist him in the toils of government 
 are watching around him with tearful eyes, but it is not upon 
 their faces he looks with the most earnest interest. The cares 
 they shared with him are past. Only one sentence more 
 shall prove his love of country strong in death. But he looks 
 for the meek countenance of the minister of God. His words 
 are the accents which the dying man wishes to hear, and he 
 seeks to follow the simple prayer that is breathed by his side ; 
 the book which has just fallen from his failing hand, is the 
 volume which tells of " Christ the Resurrection and the Life, 
 in whom if a man believe, though he die, yet shall he live." 
 That Word is the only lamp that gleams through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, whose gloom is already upon him. 
 Another moment — and the spirit hath passed. 
 
 Tell me now, doth not the cross put to shame all honors 
 else ? Is there not a dignity in the hope of the Gospel above 
 all other pride ? a victory in its power above all the boasts of 
 valor? There is no immortality beside. O then let that 
 death scene preach to you and to us all, that, laying aside 
 every meaner pursuit, we may seek first the kingdom of God 
 and his righteousness ! 
 
 Even so grant, Lord Jesus. Amen. 
 
THE ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 FROM THE APOSTLE PAUL. 
 
 AN ORATION 
 
 BEFOBE THE 
 
 PORTER RHETORICAL SOCIETY, 
 
 THEOLOGICAL SEMINAKY AT ANDOVEE, MASS., 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1842. 
 
 (published by KEQTTEST.) 
 
 18* 
 
ORATION 
 
 Gentlemen 
 
 Of the Porter Ehetorical Society. 
 
 I have been in doubt, whether it would not be more easy 
 to decline your repeated request, than to perform what you 
 ask in a manner to please you. But the honor you do one, 
 who has few claims to your regard, by making him your ora- 
 tor upon an occasion so interesting as this anniversary, and 
 upon a subject so important as that which your name sug- 
 gests, warrants me in hoping to receive more favor from the 
 kindness of your judgment than from my own. 
 
 The aim of your society is, The cuUwation of eloquence in 
 the pulpit ; this, using the term eloquence in its largest mean- 
 ing, is also the purpose of my address. 
 
 It is an undertaking, which, but for the pleasure of serving 
 you, one would wish to avoid. For, besides the difficulty of 
 understanding the subject in its full extent, much more of 
 treating it as it deserves, he, who discourses to others upon 
 eloquence, has this great disadvantage, that he stands before 
 them in the attitude and action of an orator, and is liable to 
 be tried by his own rules, and measured by his own decis- 
 ions. There seems to be a justice demanding that he should 
 
212 ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 himself be an example of the art he advocates, and by the 
 very manner of his teaching give illustration of what he 
 recommends. But, as in expounding Christian morals we 
 present a far higher standard than that we have attained unto, 
 and, as preachers hope that the people will follow our instruc- 
 tions rather than ourselves ; so, if by contributing the results 
 of a little experience, and some study of the best masters 
 who have written upon the science of public speaking, I can 
 assist in discovering methods by which you may hope, with a 
 divine blessing, to reach eminent usefulness, you will thank 
 me as one who, not being able to walk before you as a guide, 
 has done what he could to point onward with his finger the 
 direction which you should take. 
 
 It is unnecessary to speak of the value of eloquence be- 
 fore students who have been exercising themselves in pursuits 
 like yours, and who, looking forward to the highest office 
 God allows to man, are trained for their work by the counsels 
 and lives of masters venerable because of their learning, 
 intellect, and pious zeal. Were it required, the best names 
 of antiquity might be cited to prove the orator's power over 
 the good or evil fortunes of men, and strong instances given of 
 states whose destinies were wielded by the speech, the eye, the 
 gesture of those who had the genius and the educated skill 
 to cahn, to move, to concentrate and direct the passions and 
 energies of a whole people as though they were but one man. 
 The fleets of Attica were mighty, the valor of her troops un- 
 conquerable, her allies many and powerful, her Opisthodome 
 filled to overflowing with spoil and tribute and the treasure 
 of confederate Greece ; but there stood within the Pnyx, on 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 213 
 
 the west of her Acropohs, a pedestal hewn from the living 
 rock, from which went forth an influence that ruled all, and 
 wrought up her fierce democracy to deeds of conquest, glori- 
 ous resistance or suicidal faction. It was the Bema or pulpit 
 of the orator, before which the people bowed to the elegant 
 dictation of the Olympian Pericles, yielded themselves captive 
 at the will of the subtle Lysias, laughed with the witty Hy- 
 perides, stood charmed and dazzled by the splendid diction 
 of -^schines, or were borne aM'ay in the torrent argument of 
 him who fled from the fight at Cheronaea, yet baffled Mace- 
 don. 
 
 As eloquence was the master spirit of Athens, so it was of 
 Rome. It was not the fate of Lucretia, but the gesture of 
 Brutus waving abroad her bloody knife, and his long hidden 
 soul bursting forth in terrible denunciation, that drove the 
 Tarquin out, overthi-ew the throne, and established the Re- 
 public. It was a father's cries and prayers for vengeance, 
 as he rushed from the dead body of Virginia, appealing to 
 his countrymen, that roused the legions of the Tusculan camp 
 to seize upon the Sacred Mount, and achieve another free- 
 dom. And when the Roman empire was the world, and 
 trophies from every people hung in her capitol, whether in 
 the senate or the comitia, the orator shook oracles of the fate 
 of nations from the folds of his mantle. Freedom in this, as 
 in the former state, fell with the free exercise of eloquence. 
 When the orator's lips were sealed by fear, or opened for the 
 panegyric of power, liberty was at an end. The fatal blow 
 to Roman greatness was that which smote off the head of 
 Tally on the shore of Caieta. Alas for that tongue, mangled 
 
214 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 in revengeful outrage, which, living, discoursed philosophic 
 truth so sweetly, or proclaimed so loftily arguments of justice ! 
 Even beneath this Christian roof what scholar that deserves 
 the name, but, grateful for very many hours of profitable 
 delight spent in study of his noble volumes, will give a sigh 
 for the sad fate of the martyr patriot, the man whose dignity 
 was friendship, the orator who yet teaches a world, and the 
 sage who joined to the morals of the Porch, the immortal 
 longings of a Platonist Avith the grace of an Epicurean ? 
 
 A far higher and more appropriate testimony is found in 
 the Holy Book. He, who by inspiration called the tongue 
 " the glory of our frame ;" and he, who by the same spirit 
 pronounced it to be " an unruly evil full of deadly poison ;" 
 declare to us in words which cannot lie, what strength 
 speech has for our advantage or ruin. That which God 
 gave to be the vehicle of thought, affection, persuasion, en- 
 treaty, and command, whether sanctified from heaven, or 
 " set on fire of hell," must be of mighty influences. The 
 highest oflScial designation of the Son of God is the Eternal 
 Word. In fulfilment of his purpose to manifest the God- 
 head's glory to the world, he breathed upon the souls, and 
 kindled the lips of his prophets with burning words, that they 
 might speak for him unto the people with a majesty, beauty, 
 sublimity, pathos and power, worthy the messengers of the 
 Most High. He came himself a preacher of righteousness 
 and deliverance, making known the truth of his law and the 
 grace of his gospel by the teachings of a human tongue 
 in human language, with an eloquence grand, simple and 
 tender, such as never man hath approached unto. And 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 215 
 
 when the time was come that " He should be received up," 
 He committed the truth of his salvation to human preachers, 
 upon whose heads he sent down, at the Pentecost, cloven 
 tongues, like as of fire, at once to assure the gift, and assert 
 the value, of a various and glowing eloquence in the work to 
 which they were commanded. The pen, which is but another 
 instrument of speech, has not been unblessed ; and the vast 
 energies of the press have been added to the resources of the 
 church ; yet still it pleaseth Him, who " hath abounded to- 
 ward us in aU wisdom and prudence," by " the foolishness of 
 preaching to save them that believe." It is the instructive 
 ordinance of God that the most successful manifestation of his 
 truth should be made by man to man, by the speech of man, 
 the eye of man, the gesture of man, the soul of man shedding 
 its mysterious magnetism forth, and compelling sympathy 
 and conviction by an actual and manifest sympathy with 
 human sorrows, infirmities and need. Nay, lest it might be 
 thought that even divine inspiration rendered unnecessary 
 the preacher's care to do his work in the best manner, he 
 chose, for his chiefest apostle, the great preacher to the Gen- 
 tiles, one trained in all the dialectics of the schools, conver- 
 sant with the best masters of style, not unacquainted with 
 the manners and opinions of the world, and replete with all 
 the skill and habitudes of an accomplished orator. This, his 
 own example, the Apostle Paul insists upon our following so 
 far as we can, when he enjoins upon the evangelist, who 
 would be faithful, to employ himself in study, and declares 
 that no one should be a bishop, whatever his moral qualifica- 
 tions may be, except he be also " apt to teach." 
 
216 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 No where can eloquence be so valuable as in tbe pulpit, if 
 soundness in the most important doctrines, and righteousness 
 in the most important duties, be better than heresy and crime, 
 which are always active, and must often prevail should a 
 sanctified rhetoric be wanting to expose and condemn them.* 
 The preacher's aim is nothing less than the salvation of im- 
 mortal souls for the glory of God, and since God has made 
 preaching a means of salvation, it cannot be otherwise than 
 that our success will depend in no small measure upon the 
 manner in which we preach. If men are to be converted 
 through the truth, how are they to receive the truth from us, 
 except our definitions be exact, our thoughts weU arranged, 
 our argument clear, our illustrations pertinent, our language 
 true to our meaning, our enunciation distinct, and our empha- 
 sis discriminating? A mistake or defect in either of these, 
 might make us preachers of error, and the occasion of ruin to 
 immortal souls. Since, also, men are naturally averse to hear 
 the truth, and prone to cavil when they have the shadow of 
 an excuse, and their characters and mental conditions are so 
 widely various, how essential to our success is it, that those 
 characters and conditions be studied, and our discourses, both 
 as to composition and delivery, adapted to win and keep their 
 attention ; and, especially, so that on the one hand the plainer 
 people may not be confounded by a style above their compre- 
 hension, or on the other the refined be not disgusted by coarse 
 and unnecessary breaches of taste. It is wrong for hearers of 
 the gospel to stumble over trifles in the preacher's manner, 
 but, since they will do it, it is wrong for us to spare any pains 
 
 * Xphai/io; ds eaTiv 7/ peropiK), k. t. X. Arist. Rhet. I. 1. 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 217 
 
 in taking the scandal out of their way. Our purpose is to 
 persuade men, but that we must fail in, except we be listened 
 to and understood. 
 
 It is easy to tell what kind of a speaker is in the pulpit by 
 observing his auditory. If they sit listless, lounging unconcern- 
 ed, or looking carelessly around, however good a man he may 
 be, he is a poor preacher ; but, if they bend their eyes intent- 
 ly upon his countenance, listening lU avis eantu aliquo^ or 
 their cheeks be flushed, their tears starting, or their hands 
 clenched, and there is a hush over all, so that his lowest 
 whisper is heard in every part, he must be eloquent. For 
 although it is a fashion to sneer at popular preachers, and to 
 wonder what it is that attracts the people, where we can see 
 no learned depth nor keen metaphysics, we may be sure that 
 no man ever won the public ear without some striking quality ; 
 and, as in the pulpit, we are not mere critics or metaphysicians, 
 it would be far better to search out and emulate than to despise 
 his power of securing the attention of his hearers. That very 
 thing, which we cannot at first see, is the secret of his influ- 
 ence. We read little to admire in Whitfield's Sermons, in 
 Summerfield's less, though we know that both of them were 
 men of various talents, as well as most successful preachers ; 
 but what seems only a common-place, as given on the quiet 
 page, was full of energy and beauty when illustrated by their 
 skilful enunciation, the play of their features, and the aptness 
 of their gesture. No small part of their eflBciency, lay in 
 making thoughts, familiar and comprehensible, attractive and 
 forcible by the talent of their delivery ; and what preacher 
 
 * Cic. de Clar. Orator. 54. vid. loc. 
 19 
 
218 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 when speaking to his people would exchange such a talent for 
 a head like a lexicon or an index of philosophical specula- 
 tions ? 
 
 It is remarkable that there are so few eloquent preachers, 
 rarely more than one or two in an age. Yet there is much 
 study preparatory to the pulpit, under zealous professors, and 
 with frequent indications of latent genius. To what shall we 
 attribute this? As Cicero does, to the wonderful diflBculty 
 and extent of eloquence ? Or, to the little, or ill-directed 
 pains for accomplishing ourselves in this part of our sacred 
 duty? It is, indeed, true, that to be a perfect orator, one 
 should possess many natural advantages and acquired arts, 
 an acquaintance with every science, but especially with his- 
 tory and human nature, together with the graceful courtesy 
 of a gentleman and the dignity of honest aims ; yet there is 
 no good reason why many, who now fail miserably, might not 
 have won their way to some degree of excellence if not to 
 perfection. If what Plutarch tells us of the oft-cited example 
 of Demosthenes be true, an orator may be made from most 
 unpromising material, if he have but zeal to excel, and good 
 sense to guide him in the endeavor. How small a portion of 
 time is given in our theological halls to this most useful ac- 
 complishment, you are but too well aware ; and often after we 
 enter upon the actual exercise of our office, the multiplicity of 
 duties laid upon the minister by the superscriptural inventions 
 of modem times, leaves us little time to plan and write our 
 sermons, much less to consider how they should be delivered. 
 Notwithstanding all, by a due industry a habit of happy 
 rhetoric might be acquired, which would come readily into use 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 219 
 
 at the moment it is needed. It is most unworthy a scholar, 
 far more of a Christian, and an advocate of divine truth, to 
 allow difficulty of any kind to stand in the way of usefulness. 
 Preaching is not study in a quiet room, nor is it philosophy, 
 nor orthodox preciseness, nor sacred learning in particles or 
 idioms, necessary as these may be to our work. It is the 
 earnest, anxious, forcible exhibition of saving truth by the 
 living voice, from a living soul, to living men, who not only 
 think, but hear, see, and feel. Without this we are not 
 preachers. 
 
 The preacher, it is true, must not always be expected to be 
 eloquent in the full sense of the term. Men, destitute of rheto- 
 ric, may be and have been of great use in the pulpit from other 
 valuable qualifications. There are those whose attenuated 
 length of limb and angularity of frame, no Calisthenist could 
 ever drill into grace ; whose voices are too harsh and unpliant, 
 or their musical sense too dull ever to acquire a pleasing modu- 
 lation ; upon whose arid brain the dews of fancy never fall, 
 and the thoughts which grow in it are like certain esculents 
 without bud, or blossom, or leaf — naked, knotty, gnarled, and 
 unseemly. Yet even these, if they cannot be graceful, may 
 become less awkard ; if they cannot be musical in utterance, 
 they need not screech nor mumble ; or if they have no fancy, 
 they may cease to be grotesque by absurd imitations of it. 
 There are, no doubt, those who are gifted with a natural elo- 
 quence. The maxim : " Poeta nascitur, orator fit," is not true 
 of the one or the other, except it be taken with great modifica- 
 tion ; for without native genius no one can be either, and with- 
 out good rules and much practice no one, whatever his genius 
 
220 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 may be, can ever be great in poetry or eloquence. The best 
 orators, whether ancient or modern, when carefully studied, 
 are seen to have guided themselves so successfully by art as 
 to conceal it from the mass ; and many of them, as you know, 
 have written treatises upon the subject, proving their intense 
 search after the means of persuasion. To think, then, that 
 eloquence is not to be improved because it is natural, or to be 
 despaired of when it is not, would be to reject the best experi- 
 ence. The feeble vine may be nurtured into strength, the 
 luxuriant must be severely pruned into greater fruitfulness. 
 Demosthenes was trained under Isseus the Chalcidian, and 
 Cicero under Molo of Rhodes, learning from their masters to 
 excel them. If eloquence be a talent, we ought to cultivate 
 it fi'om a holy covetousness of the best gifts ; and only in so 
 doing may we expect that grace which God has promised to 
 the diligent and the humble. Certainly, in looking forward 
 to our great work, no zeal of preparation can be excessive ; 
 and if our natural powers or early education be deficient, we 
 should strive our utmost to improve the ability that we have. 
 If we cannot be eminent, it is honorable not to be insignificant. 
 The unprofitable servant was punished, not because he had 
 only a single talent, but because he buried that one in the 
 earth ; and the highest praise ever pronounced upon mortal, 
 was our Saviour's encomium of Mary : " She hath done what 
 she could." 
 
 There are also occasions and subjects which require ab- 
 stinence from many usual characteristics of eloquence, when, 
 so far as is consistent with th« dignity and affectionateness of 
 the pulpit, our manner should be simple and severe, and the 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 221 
 
 truth stated in a didactic form, without ornament, figure, or 
 gesture, except it be very slight and easy, lest the attention of 
 the people be diverted from the fact, doctrine, or duty brought 
 before them. Yet it is, perhaps, the most difficult art of the 
 preacher to give a thought such clearness, purity, and distinct- 
 ness, as to make it our consideration without any suppedita- 
 ments. It is eloquence of a very high and rare order, always 
 impressive, often pathetic, sometimes sublime. In fact, it is 
 one of the chief excellencies of the scripture which compel us 
 to believe that the Bible is the word of God. You have in- 
 stances of it in the Proverbs of Solomon, the former part of 
 the Sermon on the Mount, and frequently in sacred narrative, 
 as that of the creation, the life of our blessed Lord, and ac- 
 counts of his miracles. Those, therefore, who affect great 
 simplicity, are much in error, if they think that they do not 
 need greater study for that reason. 
 
 The kinds of eloquence are various, and adapted to differ- 
 ent orders of talent, as well as the various themes on which 
 we are called to discourse. 
 
 There is a grand and lofty eloquence which prevails by a 
 majestic energy, and awes the passions to its sway. 
 
 There is, again, a smooth and gentle style, which, dexte- 
 rously acute, wins upon us before ever we are aware, and 
 holds us captive without our being sensible that we are no 
 longer free. 
 
 And there is a strong, direct mode of attack, by which some? 
 who have neither great elevation nor flow, beat us down at 
 their feet by main force and determination. 
 
 Either of these is valuable ; and, perhaps, we should seek 
 19* 
 
222 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 to excel in that for which our peculiar character of mind best 
 fits us, but certainly not to an exclusion of the others. For 
 variety of manner is most necessary to an orator who appears 
 so often before the same people, and asks their attention to 
 the same truths in various forms. They soon come to know 
 our only method of address, and meet us accoi'dingly. Be- 
 sides which, there are times, even in the same discourse, when 
 our thoughts require a complete change of manner, when lof- 
 tiness would be pomposity, moderation weakness, or mere 
 strength imprudent dictation. "Were we to form for our pat- 
 tern the ideal of a perfect orator, he should combine all these, 
 and be ready to use either as he saw that it pz'omised better 
 results. 
 
 A sure way to learn how to excel, is by analysis of the 
 causes of success in those who have been, without question, 
 successful in their practice of eloquence.* 
 
 The best master of the artf sets forth Demosthenes as the 
 highest example of an eloquent orator the world had then 
 produced ; a distinction to which he was entitled over his Ro- 
 man rival, as much from the language and circumstances in 
 which he spoke, as from his genius ; for the structure and ter- 
 minations of the Latin are as inferior to the Greek, as the 
 Assembly of Athens was a better sphere than the Senate 
 House or the Forum. We, as Christian preachers, have also 
 a great model in one, not sinless and divine like " the Great 
 High Priest of our profession," but brought nearer to us by 
 
 * Aris. Ehet. I, 1 . See also Stewart's Preliminary Dissertation to his 
 Philos. Essays. t Cicero. 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 223 
 
 the same natural infirmities and corruption with ourselves. 
 We cannot speak as Jesus did, (all glory be to his holy 
 Name !) for he was the Author and Giver of rest, declaring 
 oracles from the Divinity within his human bosom ; but we 
 can point to Him, and plead for Him, and glorify His grace 
 in humble imitation of our apostle Paul, himself a sinner saved 
 by the same gospel, and sustained by the same Spirit he pro- 
 claimed to others. 
 
 In taking the apostle Paul as a model of Christian elo- 
 quence, we are struck by a resemblance in many respects be- 
 tween him and the mighty Athenian.* We see in them both 
 unusual physical defects ovei'come by zeal ; the same fulness 
 of thought, energy of language, and vehemence of manner ; 
 the same concealment of skilful order ; the same insurgent pa- 
 rentheses ; the same dramatic use of dialogue, exclamation, 
 and apostrophe ; the same Socratic pith of the sudden ques- 
 tion ; the same noble choice of images and use of figures ; the 
 same high consciousness of power ; the same directness of attack, 
 not upon the reason only, but through the mind upon the 
 heart. If the apostle be at times more diffuse, it is because the 
 must instruct, explain, and guard against misconstruction, while 
 the only aim of the orator is to convince and move. That 
 enlarging of his thought, that gathering up as he rushes on, 
 without losing his speed, golden truths seeming at first to bear 
 but indirectly on his main purpose, yet firmly combined with 
 his conclusion, is among the great excellencies of the Christian 
 hierophant. Well does he prove by other passages that he 
 has at his command an intense brevity. 
 
 * See Life of Longinus, by Smith, Dean of Chester, p. 32. 
 
224 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 Nay, though here the Christian is, by the grace of God, im- 
 measurably superior, they are not unhke in their moral quali- 
 ties of honesty, disdain of rhetorical trick and sophistry (which 
 St. Paul means by " words of man's wisdom"), desire of ac- 
 complishing the good of the people, and lofty faith in the ten- 
 dency of their principles living deep and strong within their 
 souls. 
 
 We can scarcely avoid believing (and I know not why we 
 should,) that the apostle must have been an admiring student 
 of the orator, such parallelisms do we find ; as, for example, 
 Paul's vindication of his state and manner of life, against the 
 accusations of his enemies in his speech before Agrippa, with 
 the opening of Demosthenes' defence against the slanders of 
 ^schines, in the Oration on the Crown. The turn of thought 
 is precisely the same, nor is the language wholly unlike. The 
 eleventh and the beginning of the twelfth chapter of the He- 
 brews,* is a most successful expansion of the same appeal to 
 ancestral glory and example, the same summoning of a gi'eat 
 cloud of martyrs, that is made in the famous adjuration by 
 those who fell at Marathon, at Platsea, at Salamis and Arte- 
 misium. 
 
 But, be this as it may, we see, and for that purpose I have 
 drawn the comparison, the grand elements of successful elo- 
 quence are the same in both these eminent masters. 
 
 It may be thought by some that our apostle should be re- 
 garded rather as a writer than an orator, from the fewness of 
 his recorded speeches; though even they are suflScient to 
 establish his right to the name, when we see an imperious 
 
 *No one but Paul could have written that epistle, whatever Tholack 
 may say. 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 225 
 
 heathen king trembling before him, a luxurious and half 
 apostate king almost convinced, and a whole city doing him 
 homage as the God of speech. But we do not confine our- 
 selves to his spoken addresses. His epistles, a few excepted, 
 are orations : exordium, argument, inferences, application, and 
 peroration. It is the soul of an orator dictating to the scribe. 
 He seems to have the churches before him. He calls to them 
 by endearing names, he appeals, he beseeches, he soothes, he 
 exclaims, he denounces, he weeps, as though they heard and 
 saw him. We can imagine his very gestures as he walked 
 the floor of his prison room, and his young secretary inscribed 
 with rapid pen his glowing words. Indeed his example is the 
 more useful to us, who, unaided but by that inspiration which 
 breathes through the use of means, dare not take the words of 
 God rashly into our mouths, but digest, correct, and guard, by 
 prayer and pious caution, the message of truth we are to carry 
 before dying yet immortal men. It should teach us not to 
 write formal essays and nice disquisitions, which are out of 
 place in the pulpit, cramp and degrade our oratory, and leave 
 the people as cold as the paper that lies upon our desks ; but, 
 if we must compose our sermons beforehand (and I firmly be- 
 lieve that is due to the church, ourselves, and to God,) to re- 
 member that we are writing to be heard, not read, and com- 
 pose as though we were already in the pulpit, and looking 
 upon the upturned faces of the congregation. Could we learn 
 this lesson from Paul, half the objection to written sermons 
 would be done away. Without such a feeling of the orator, 
 we do not preach ; for it is not to the pen, but the living 
 speaker, that God assures the chief blessing of success. 
 
22^ ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 With these views I shall point out some principal qualities 
 of the apostle's eloquence, deducing some hints from them for 
 our own practice. 
 
 1. His Dignity. 
 
 The apostle always stands before us in a noble attitude. 
 There is nothing little in all he says and does. Whether ad- 
 dressing the churches by authority, or preaching the Gospel 
 to the heathen, or pleading before his judges, he compels re- 
 spect. We honor him for his tears, we admire him in his 
 chains, the disgrace of his stripes is covered by his magna- 
 nimity, and even in his flight we see the missionary of good, 
 not the fugitive from fear. 
 
 As a ma7i he is humble, meek, and distrustful of himself ; 
 but as an apostle, ever conscious of his high office. He is an 
 ambassador for Christ, speaking in God's name God's will to 
 God's sinful creatures. No mortal called him to his work, 
 and none can abash him in it. God has made him a teacher 
 of sinful men, and they are bound to hear the truth and obey 
 it. God has commanded him to lead the church in the right 
 way, and he walks before us a strong champion as well as 
 guide, fearless and confident of the end. He is sent with 
 God's richest benefactions of grace, and he offers the bounty 
 with tenderness, yet the tenderness of one conferring help. 
 
 He is inspired by the greatness of his subjects. It is of no 
 passing thing, no temporary expedient, no worldly affairs that 
 he discourses ; but of " the King eternal, immortal, and invisi- 
 ble, the only wise God," who " dwelleth in light no man can 
 approach," of his unspotted holiness, his stern justice, his un- 
 changeable will ; of Christ, the manifestation of the Godhead, 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 227 
 
 the glory of his person, the perfection of his vicarious obedi- 
 ence, the infiniteness of his atonement, the majesty of his 
 power, the height, the depth, the length, the breadth of his 
 love ; of the Holy Ghost, the energy of all might, the inspirer 
 of all wisdom, the life of all life, the source of all sanctity, the 
 strength of all virtue, and comforter of every broken but 
 trusting heart ; of the soul of man, its ceaseless being, its 
 priceless value, its sad ruin, its terrible danger, its possible im- 
 mortality of love and knowledge and blessedness. He beholds 
 the awful throne, the Child Wondekful, God with us ; 
 the mysterious suiferer bowing his head to our sorrows, yet 
 mighty to save ; the portentous agony in the garden ; the 
 accomplisher of redemption breathing out his soul on the 
 cross ; the conqueror of hell bursting the gates of death ; the 
 breaker ascending for us through the rent heavens, acclaimed 
 triumphant by the hosts of God ; Jesus, the name above every 
 name, sending down the Spirit, the earnest and God of all 
 grace and blessing ; the hosts of radiant ministers swift to 
 serve the heirs of salvation ; the Judge in the clouds ; the 
 flashing fires of eternal death ; the uplifted portals of glorified 
 life ; the innumerable company of angels ; the multitude whom 
 no man can number of the church of the First-born. All 
 these are about him, above him, beneath him, before him, fill- 
 ing his soul, and making all else mean, contemptible, and 
 vile in his sight ; and his language, his figures, and manner, 
 are as lofty as his thoughts. His dignity is not assumed. It 
 transfigures him from within. He is clothed upon from on high. 
 The apostolical office ceased when the holy men appointed 
 immediately by the Master completed the foundation of the 
 
228 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 church, " Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone." 
 But the preacher is commissioned from the same high source. 
 He has the same stupendous themes. He Hves and labors 
 for the same eternal results. Nor should he ever enter his 
 pulpit without a high consciousness of his office, his message, 
 and his purpose. The moment he treads its sacred platform, 
 he should cease from the knowledge of " any man after the 
 flesh," and all his powers and affections, nay, his whole being, 
 be absorbed into the minister of Jesus, and his every word, 
 tone, gesture, and attitude, commend him as a legate of the 
 skies. 
 
 Most unworthy, then, of our place, is that shamefacedness 
 of manner, that obsequious, whining, deprecatory tone, which 
 so often makes the preacher appear like a cringing beggar or 
 a whipped child, and excites contempt for the very truth he 
 dishonors. "What ! Are we ashamed of the Gospel of Christ ? 
 Do we shrink from the reproach of the cross ? Need we 
 make such puling excuses for being honest ? Is there any 
 thing in religion to make its advocate " hang down his head 
 like a bulrush," or that requires him to sing out his sermon 
 through his nose to a very bad tune ? What have we to fear 
 from men ? Should not love for them cast out fear ? Was 
 it thus Paul spoke before his judges ? or Peter or Stephen 
 before the Sanhedrim ? or the noble martyrs at the stake ? 
 Was it thus that Calvin, and Luther, Zuingle prevailed? 
 If we tremble, as tremble we should, let it be at the awful Pres- 
 ence in which we stand, the accountability we are under, 
 the life or death hanging upon our lips. If we weep, or our 
 voices falter, let it be in sympathy with our Master's sorrows , 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 229 
 
 the exquisite tenderness of the Spirit's promise, the deep an- 
 guish of wounded souls, the unspeakable misery of the lost, 
 the dishonor done to God's holy name. The source of such 
 passions ennobles it, dignifies its expression, and carries with 
 it the hearts of our hearers. Any meaner cause of emotion 
 degrades our minds, and makes us contemptible, if not ridicu- 
 lous. No wonder that men respect the ministry so little, they 
 show so little respect for themselves. 
 
 True dignity in the pulpit is also opposed to aU affectation 
 of prettiness ; to a mincing effeminate utterance, a rolling of 
 the r, a precise sibilation of the s ; to showy words and tinsel 
 phrases, jingling alliteration, unnecessary antitheses, a constant 
 effort at a rhythm in our sentences, elaborate circumlocutions 
 to avoid the honest idioms of our mother tongue ; or a dress- 
 ing up of a simple idea with common withered flowers of 
 rhetoric, until the people can see nothing but the millinery 
 about it, and the smirking artist complacent with his skill. 
 The preacher, conscious of truth and intent upon his great 
 purpose, I will not say disdains, for he does not even think of 
 such poor puerilities. He is above them, manly, honest and 
 sincere. 
 
 But he does not fall into the opposite extreme of coarseness. 
 He is himself a gentleman and a scholar, and, therefore, has 
 a due regard for the proper feelings and taste of such among 
 his auditors ; nor will he allow a breach of grammar, an iU- 
 pronunciation, or an unseemly provincialism, to disgust those 
 whom he would persuade to salvation. He need not always 
 aim at pleasing the learned, but he is not the less intelligible 
 by all for speaking good English ; or if he wiU appeal to our 
 
 20 
 
230 ELOQUENCE or THE PULPIT. 
 
 literary recollections, he must not expect that we should know 
 whom he means by Aristrdes or ^schylus. 
 
 As affectation is never graceful, so coarseness is never ef- 
 fective. There is no force nor wit in slang or cant expres- 
 sions ; or, if they excite attention for the moment, it is at the 
 expense of the house of God, the ministry, and the Gospel 
 itself, by pandering to a low taste, and investing sacred things 
 with ludicrous and grovelling associations. The man who 
 plays the buffoon or the clown in a pulpit, leaves not that 
 solemn place what he found it. However dignified the preach- 
 er may be that follows him, the people cannot look up to listen, 
 and forget the tricks that were played where he stands ; vulgar 
 pruriency will long for the gross excitement, and the refined 
 cannot wholly discharge the sickening images from their 
 thoughts. Let once the boisterous laugh ring round a place 
 of worship, and its echoes will disturb the meditations of the 
 pious for many a long day. Why do we spend years in the 
 study of ancient and modem masters of language ; why do we 
 separate ourselves from the ruder though honorable pursuits of 
 the world ; why do we invoke the presence of a pure and sub- 
 lime God, if it be not to attain chasteness of diction, purity of 
 thought, and holy elevation of soul ? He that is full of love 
 to God and man, will never be vulgar in his conceptions ; and 
 a student of his own language need never be vulgar in his dis- 
 course. An eminent divine once said that " a clean soul never 
 dwelt in a dirty body ;" so we may say, that gross words never 
 came but from a gross mind. 
 
 O my friends, suffer an appeal to you in behalf of our abus- 
 ed and dishonored pulpit. Despise not that strong charm 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 231 
 
 over the human mind, the influence of association. Never 
 forget yourselves, nor suffer those to preach for you who do 
 forget, that the church is " none other than the gate of heaven," 
 and the ministry men consecrated to convert the hearts, refine 
 the temper, and exalt the minds of a degraded world, by up- 
 lifting before them, in all its grandeur and sweetness, the 
 Gospel of a holy God. Believe me, the cause we love has lost 
 far more than you can soon repair by the profane recklessness, 
 and debasing Billingsgate of some who have been cried up 
 and run after as bold preachers. Bold ! He, who put off the 
 shoes from his feet before the Angel that dwelt in the bush ; 
 and he, who wrapt his face in his mantle when he went forth 
 to speak with God from the cave in Horeb ; and the seer who 
 cried " Wo is me ! for I am a man of unclean lips 1" and he, 
 who never wrote to the churches without invoking a remem- 
 brance that he was an apostle of Christ, would have shudder- 
 ed at such boldness as strange blasphemy. Pure should be 
 the hands, and reverent the spirit, of him who touches the 
 sacred things of the temple. I doubt the success of those 
 who despise Christian decencies. Surely, coarseness is not 
 contributive to the force of truth, or our scriptural patterns 
 are sadly defective. The good they seem to do at the mo- 
 ment, is far more than counterbalanced by the mischief they 
 fling over the future. I respect a blacksmith in his place ; the 
 dust of his furnace and his sweaty strength are a glory to him. 
 there ; but I cannot restrain contempt for the preacher, who 
 affects the grim features, and coatless arms, and sledge-sling- 
 ing gestures of a blacksmith, in the pulpit. I can feel for one 
 whom nature made ungainly, or who lacked an early educa- 
 
232 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 tion to train his speech ; I can forget his unavoidable defects 
 in honor of his zeal and talents ; but he who apes deformities, 
 and strives after rude eccentricities, deserves no pity, except 
 such as we give to a fool playing with the fires of an altar, or 
 a madman laughing at the lightning of heaven. Gentlemen, 
 pardon me, if in rebuking this fault of coarseness I seem to 
 have fallen into it myself. I have touched pitch and I am 
 defiled. 
 
 It must not be said, however, that true wit should be utter- 
 ly banished from the sermon or the religious treatise. It is 
 among the attributes of the orator. Many proverbs of Sol- 
 omon have the point of an epigram. There was irony, keen 
 and wholesome, in the advice of Elijah to the priests of Baal ; 
 and a bystander must have enjoyed the dilemma into which 
 the blessed Master threw the cavilling scribes, respecting the 
 baptism of John or the lawfulness of paying tribute. Sweet 
 Bishop Hall, honest Matthew Henry, and even the stately 
 Barrow, often surprise us into a smile ; while shrewd Thomas 
 Fuller compels us to lay down his book, and enjoy a laugh 
 " that doeth good like a medicine." A pointed Laconism, a turn 
 of fair ridicule upon an absurd objection, or an apt illustration 
 from common life, may give pungency to an argument with- 
 out disturbing due gravity. But there is need of very great 
 caution in this ; and if wit be allowed at all, it should be very 
 seldom, and then only of the highest order. Mere play upon 
 words, quibs to excite mirth, broad caricature, or ludicrous 
 acting of a story, in a word, jocoseness of any kind, is intol- 
 erable. Sarcasm is also a most dangerous tendency in a 
 preacher, and, if possible, should be plucked out by the roots. 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 233 
 
 It betrays us into giving many a harsh blow that we are 
 sorry for afterward, and often embitters those against us 
 whom we might have made our friends. A good natured 
 man cannot give vent to sarcasm, except he be provoked out 
 of his good nature. It is the venom of the serpent, not his 
 wisdom. The Christian orator stoops too low when he strikes 
 to hurt. 
 
 To preserve an entire dignity, requires a scrupulous and 
 thorough care. Nothing should be suffered to break the ed- 
 ifying charm. The pulpit itself deserves to be entered with 
 deliberate respect. It is an impressive custom of the Church 
 of Holland for the minister to pause at its lowest step in silent 
 prayer. Such honour is due to the place and the service. 
 The manuscript should not be adjusted, nor any petty ar- 
 rangement made during the singing, as if praise were a form 
 with which a minister has nothing to do. The books ought 
 to be handled with a quiet reverence, and not flung about, 
 nor thumped on as mere dead matter. The Holy Volume 
 contains the words of eternal life. It lies upon the desk as a 
 sacrifice on an altar, reminding us of the great Sacrifice that 
 finished all expiation. Nor should it be laid aside to make 
 room for our notes, nor closed up as we begin an extemporane- 
 ous exhortation, as though we had no use for it except in the 
 form of taking a text. It is the Word of God, and if we rever- 
 ence in spirit the truth it contains, we will treat with some out^ 
 ward respect the book itself. The Amen at the close of prayer is 
 not an unmeaning note of termination, nor the benediction a 
 mere licet exire ; both need a full and solemn enunciation, and 
 the latter should never be pronounced except the auditory be 
 20* 
 
234 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 waiting solemnly to receive it. We have no right to give the 
 blessing of Almighty God to a disorderly people. The very 
 notices should be read, not pompously indeed as if we were 
 preaching them, but with a proper distinctness, showing that 
 they are worth hearing, for those unworthy such regard have 
 no right to be there. Above all, the sacred names of God, 
 the Holy Spirit and the blessed Jesus, must never be pro- 
 nounced without manifest awe, and when possible should be 
 preceded or followed by some epithet or ascription of praise. 
 
 Such was our apostle's habit, and among his richest bursts 
 of holy feeling are those struck from his heart by the mention 
 of the names he loved to adore. "We cannot be too holy in 
 our Sabbath duties, and that holiness should appear. 
 
 No rules are sufficient to form a dignity for the pulpit. A 
 pious life is essential, for no man can rebuke vice when he 
 practises it, nor recommend Christian virtue which he neglects, 
 without a consciousness of inconsistency fatal to dignity.* It 
 was the unanimous opinion of writers upon eloquence in an- 
 cient times, that no one could be a great orator except he 
 were a good man, because he wanted dignity of character to 
 support his elevation. So a careless Christian will make a 
 poor preacher, though he may be showy, eloquent in some 
 respects, and popular among the weaker brethren ; but a poor 
 preacher as concerns spiritual understanding of Grod's Word, 
 Christian experience and arguments of divine love. He has 
 not that consciousness within, in the absence of which he must 
 
 * Caput enim esse arbitrabatur oratoris, ut et ipsis apud quos ageret, 
 talis qaalem se ipse optaret, videretur ; id fieri vitse dignitate. Cic. de 
 Orat. I. 19. 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 235 
 
 feel himself to be but " as sounding brass and tinkling cym- 
 bal." Much prayer, believing study of the Scriptures, and 
 actual experience of the Christian warfare, are vitally neces- 
 sary to a high strain of pious thought, and intimate sympathy 
 with Christ's people. 
 
 A taste cultivated by familiarity with good authors, will direct 
 to a proper choice of words and figures, as by a certain in- 
 stinct. But especially the Scriptures themselves, and our no- 
 ble translation of them (which may God keep men from 
 attempting to improve !) is the best storehouse of our rhetoric. 
 There we find abundant examples of every good style, and we 
 may turn confidently to it for help in every difficulty. A sen- 
 tence turned with an apt text is always impressive, and scrip- 
 tural images never pall on the ear. This use of his Bilde 
 was the chief charm of the seraphic Summerfield, the most 
 persuasive preacher I have ever heard. It is also the holy 
 excellence of Leighton, whose sentences distil like honey from 
 a cleft in the rock Christ Jesus, the fragrance of whose pre- 
 cious Name is as ointment poured forth over every page he 
 wrote. When the preacher has bathed his soul in that pure 
 fountain, and invoked the dove-like fire of the Spirit as he 
 comes up from his baptism ; when he has knelt at the foot of 
 the cross to gaze upon Him that hung there in agonies of 
 love, and then carried forward his faith to eternal things, his 
 eyes will have such a life, his countenance such a glow, his 
 port such a religious gravity that men must know he has been 
 with Jesus. 
 
 2. His Courtesy. 
 
 Can I be wrong in saying that a Christian preacher should 
 
236 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 be the highest style of gentleman ? Not one of those polished 
 hypocrites, fashioned by the tailor, dancing master and hair- 
 dresser, who usurp the name ; covering coldness of heart with 
 pretences of friendship ; flattering to cajole ; bowing where 
 they feel no respect, and promising service while they intend 
 to abandon, circumvent or destroy. But a gentleman in the 
 true sense of that honorable term, firm in high principle, and 
 dignified by integrity ; frank without bluntness, kind without 
 flattery, gentle without weakness, exact without formality, 
 charitable without show ; free from affectation, egotism, or 
 impertinence ; ever mindful of his neighbor's feelings, tolerant 
 of his infirmities, and patient with his mistakes ; never intru- 
 sive nor yet bashful, tempering his speech to the occasion, 
 ready to give place to the older, the wiser, the stranger and 
 the more feeble ; yielding scrupulous respect to authority, not 
 ashamed of allegiance to God, and serving his fellow men for 
 Grod's sake ; a gentleman not in outward garb only, though of 
 that not careless from deference to the world and himself; 
 not in mere phrase or form, though in these seeking to pro- 
 pitiate ; not in education or accomplishment, though despising 
 no worthy aid to his social influence ; nor from station or pur- 
 suit in life, but in heart, purpose and conduct, recommending 
 virtue by an example without obtrusion, and religion without 
 sanctimony ; rebuking scandal, profaneness and impurity by 
 well-measured remonstrance, or silent withdrawal ; anxious to 
 please that he may do good, but giving no countenance to evil 
 through fear or favor of man. 
 
 Such a gentleman was our apostle. Observe him before 
 Agrippa. With what courteous respect he acknowledges the 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 237 
 
 rank and intelligence of the royal Jew as he opens his defence, 
 propitiating the king while he does no dishonor to himself! 
 What elegant strength in his reply to the bluff governor ; " I 
 am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak forth the words of 
 truth and soberness !" How he breaks the rudeness of a posi- 
 tive contradiction by interposing the address " most noble Fes- 
 tus," between the members of the sentence ! How readily 
 also does he take back his burst of indignation at the pontiff's 
 unjust insolence, and condemn his own hasty impropriety : " I 
 wist not that it was the High Priest, for it is written, Thou 
 shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people." 
 
 Throughout his epistles, though w^riting as an apostle, he 
 never forgets the honor due to those " called to be saints," 
 merging his superior name in those of " brethren," " friend," 
 " fellow citizens with the saints," " household of God," " dearly 
 beloved ;" nay, though he claims eminence at the beginning of 
 his address, he delights to humble himself, as their servant, 
 their fellow-sinner, " the chief of sinners," " the prisoner of the 
 Lord for their sakes," and their " debtor" in holy things ; while 
 he exalts them as " faithful brethren," " his joy and his crown." 
 How kindly mindful to greet them with the gracious salutation, 
 and to show at the close, that he has not forgotten the atten- 
 tions of his friends. The epistle to Philemon is a perfect pat- 
 tern of Christian delicacy and confiding friendship. Mark, 
 how he omits his usual designation of himself as an apostle, 
 lest he might seem to demand by authority, what he requests 
 as a favor ; and how he assures Philemon of the continuance 
 of his regard, whether that favor be granted or not, by com- 
 
238 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 missioning him to prepare a lodging against a visit, which he 
 doubts not is desired by both. There are times when he 
 commands, but he more often entreats and beseeches ; and 
 when he rebukes and denounces, it is as an apostle speaking 
 by inspiration of God. He was ever, to use his own sweet 
 words, " gentle among them, even as a nurse cherisheth her 
 children." 
 
 This was not accidental nor mere outward semblance with 
 Paul. It was the result of principle, as we may learn from 
 his advices to the Church. " Be kindly afFectioned one to 
 another with brotherly love," writes he to the Romans, " in 
 honor preferring one another." And to Timothy : " Rebuke 
 not an elder, but entreat him as a father, and the younger 
 men as brethren ; the elder women as mothers, the younger 
 as sisters in all purity. Honor widows that are widows in- 
 deed." And to Titus : " Put them in mind to be subject to prin- 
 cipalities and powers, to obey magistrates, to be ever ready to 
 every good work. To speak evil of no man, to be no brawlers, 
 but gentle, showing all meekness to all men." And when de- 
 scribing a bishop, ' in which good office you desire to be found,' 
 he says : " a bishop must be blameless, the husband of one 
 wife, vigilant, sober, of good behavior,* (or comely in his 
 manners) given to hospitality, apt to teach, not given to wine, 
 no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre, but patient ; not a brawl- 
 er, not covetous, one that ruleth well his own house ; 
 
 not a novice, lest being lifted up with pi'ide he fall into the 
 condemnation of the devil." 
 
 Nor were these views peculiar to our apostle. The apostle 
 
 * Koa/iioi;. 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 239 
 
 Peter, once the blunt, rash, passionate, headlong, but ever 
 noble-hearted Peter, confirms such good rules: "Honor 
 all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the 
 King." again ; " Be ye all of one mind, having compassion 
 one of another, loving as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous, not 
 rendering evil for evil, but contrariwise blessing." The laconic 
 James puts politeness on the right foundation, when he bids 
 us treat the " poor man in vile raiment," as respectfully as the 
 rich man with his " gold ring and goodly apparel." I need 
 not remind you of the benignity which breathes through the 
 keen searching words of the beloved disciples, as with the snows 
 of ninety winters upon his apostolic head, he exhorts his " little 
 children to love one another." Nor of Jude's disavowal from 
 the number of true Christians, of " filthy dreamers" who " de- 
 spise dominion, speak evil of dignities," " murmurers, com- 
 plainers, walking after their own lusts ; and their mouths 
 speaking great swelling words ; having men's persons in 
 admiration, because of advantage." 
 
 These, beloved brethren, are the maxims that should govern 
 our lives, and mark our demeanor in the pulpit, where we 
 stand in Christ's place, examples as well as expounders of 
 Christianity. We need no silken deceits, no fashionable aix's, 
 no flattering obsequiousness. But if we be humble as we 
 ought to be, sinners that we are against a holy God ; if we be 
 living sacrifices to the world's good for his sake, and our hearts 
 full of love, and gentleness, and holy peace ; if we walk as 
 followers of the meek, mild and merciful Jesus, and learn, as 
 good scholars, from the Holy Spirit of concord and order, we 
 must manifest it by a real deference, a sweet respect, a kind 
 
240 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 consideration, and a gracious manner towards all with whom 
 we have to do. 
 
 If we address men as sinners, it will not be in harsh or re- 
 pulsive language as though we were better than they ; but 
 putting ourselves among them as sinners saved by free grace, 
 which we entreat them to share. If we rebuke, it will be in 
 the name of God, before whom we tremble. If we denounce 
 licentiousness, it will be in no gross terms, but with a delicacy 
 shrinking from the shame duty requires us to discover. If 
 we foretell the miseries of the lost, it will be with a pious ter- 
 ror, and an earnest desire to avert them from our hearers, for 
 " it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God ;" 
 and we might well weep over impenitent souls, as Christ did 
 over Jerusalem. If we be in controversy (though it is far bet- 
 ter to refute error by teaching truth), our opponent, however 
 we handle his arguments, should receive from us the respect 
 due to a man. Mere abuse always gives him a moral advan- 
 tage in the sympathies of the people, and supercilious airs of 
 anticipated triumph disgust by their vanity. Hailing makes 
 a blackguard mouth, and he who calls ill-names in the pulpit, 
 or out of it, dares to say of his fellow-sinner what Michael, 
 the archangel, dared not of the devil himself. There is noth- 
 ing so strong as a fair argument in meek lips. " Blessed are 
 the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." 
 
 Our brethren in the ministry should ever be spoken of with 
 honor and kindness. Let ministers show disrespect for each 
 other, and the world will soon show disrespect for the whole 
 ministry. They are heralds of " the glorious gospel of the 
 blessed God." Especially, the fathers in the ministry are to 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 241 
 
 be venerated, and given all precedence. " Rise up before the 
 hoary head," is a command of the Holy Ghost ; but when 
 that head has grown gray in righteousness, and been made 
 glorious by many anointings of the Holy Spirit, it ought to 
 abash the flippant tongue and beardless self-sufBciency of a 
 stripling, but a few days from the theological nursery. It i& 
 most offensive to see such green babblers pushing aside God's 
 veterans in council and action. The new weight of responsi- 
 bility should make them humble, and common decency loth 
 to obtrude. He that is not willing to take the lowest place, 
 shall never hear the Master saying, " Friend, come up high- 
 er." To be conspicuous in littleness one need only stand on 
 the pedestal of a Colossus. 
 
 Without prayer for men in authority, the worship of the 
 sanctuary is never, according to the scriptural pattern, complete. 
 Whoever holds the place, our prayers for him are due to him- 
 self, the country, and to God. Such prayer should be in the 
 most respectful terms. Whatever may be our opinions re- 
 specting the personal worth or public policy of our rulers, our 
 sincerity in desiring God's blessing upon them is always to be 
 apparent. Indeed, I know of no greater or more profane 
 breach of religious decency than praying at any fellow-sinner. 
 It is to aggravate our quarrel in the presence of God. It is 
 cursing man, while pretending to bless his Maker. Almost 
 equally bad is preaching at individuals. We certainly are to 
 have a consideration of the moral condition of every one who 
 hears us, and our preaching should be adapted to their benefit 
 without any shrinking from honest duty ; but that is far dif- 
 ferent from singling them out and gibbeting them before the 
 
 21 
 
242 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 congregation. It is taking them at an unfair disadvantage, 
 sheltering ourselves under the shadow of the altar, while we 
 dart forth venomed missiles. It is defiling the Gospel with 
 bad temper and insolence. Personal rebukes belong to the 
 private interview, the Gospel method of first dealing with those 
 who have done wrong. If we play the Pharisee, we can- 
 not successfully exhort others to imitate the penitence of those 
 whom God justifies. 
 
 I have comprised these characteristics of the Christian 
 preacher under the general name of courtesy, which is the out- 
 ward exhibition of the inward grace of love. "Without it we are 
 unlike Paul, his brethren the apostles, and the blessed Master. 
 
 3. His Directness. 
 
 For nothing is our apostle more remarkable than the single- 
 ness of his purpose. The glory of God in the salvation of 
 men was the one thing for which he lived and labored. All 
 things else were loss, contemptible, compared with this great 
 end. He looked upon himself as not his own, but wholly be- 
 longing to Christ, bound to advance by divine help His cause, 
 according to His directions, and for His praise. Personal 
 safety, the favor of men, power, fame, riches, ease, were not 
 counted in his reckoning, or reckoned only to be flung aside 
 while endeavoring after eternal things. We see nowhere in 
 his course a shrinking from danger, though constantly exposed 
 to its most terrible forms ; or a desire for reputation, though 
 well fitted to acquire it by natural talent and large acquisitions ; 
 and as for rank in the world, or the goods of this life, he gave 
 them up, never to sigh after them more, when he was convert- 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 243 
 
 ed, on the way to Damascus, from the ambitious emissary of 
 the Sanhedrim, to a follower of Jesus, glorying only in the 
 cross. Paul was nothing to him, except in the glory of his 
 reward. Jesus was all. 
 
 Skilled in the learning of the Gi'eeks, and intimately ac- 
 quainted with their theories, he was under a temptation, that 
 seems almost irresistible, to philosophize (as the early fathers 
 soon learned to do) upon the grand truths of the new reli- 
 gion ; and, especially, when writing to the Gentiles, to show 
 how far the metaphysics of the Christian scheme were above 
 those of the Pagan schools. But we never find him so en- 
 gaged. He is never unphilosophical, but at the same time 
 he never runs into abstractions, or speculations not practical, 
 . such as have set the church of all ages into turmoil for the 
 sake of displaying the acuteness or novel discoveries of theo- 
 logians, who would be wise above what is written. His re- 
 liance for success was upon the power of the cross. His 
 whole system of morals, like his Master's was summed up in 
 love, the fulfilment of the law ; and his motives to obedience 
 were all drawn from the love of God in redemption, the 
 hope of heaven, and the upholding power of the gracious 
 Spirit. To lift up that cross before the eyes of men, to illus- 
 trate that love, to display those arguments, and to assure the 
 help of that Spirit, absorbed his whole soul. All time was 
 lost that was not spent upon them. Men were not to be 
 saved by philosophy. Metaphysical acumen could not pierce 
 a heart with a sense of sin. Grace alone could convert 
 and sanctify. He knew that " the truth as it is in Jesus" was 
 the medium and instrument of grace, and the Gospel was 
 
244 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 his only theme. He ran, like the racer he loved to describe, 
 with his eye fixed upon the great end of his calling, hesi- 
 tating for nothing, turning aside for nothing, desiring nothing 
 else. 
 
 To be like him, it is in vain for us to stop short of imitating 
 his spirit. So long as any inferior motive clings to the heart 
 of the preacher, his thoughts, his words, his whole manner, 
 will have a sinister bias. The pride of the man, the scholar, 
 or the philosopher, will creep in and pervert his purpose. 
 Unhappy is that people, whom their more unhappy preacher 
 leads away from the green pastures and the pure waters of 
 the Gospel, into the dry and barren mazes of intricate disqui- 
 sition. That belongs to the formal treatise or the professor's 
 chair ; not to the pulpit, which should feed Christ's unlearned 
 poor, his lambs, the little children of his grace. We are 
 preachers of the cross. Our commission is " to preach the 
 Gospel." The Holy Ghost has declared the doctrine of re- 
 demption by a crucified Saviour to be the " wisdom of God," 
 and " the power of God unto salvation." Every truth we 
 present should radiate directly from the cross, and point di- 
 rectly to it, else we do not preach the Gospel. The people 
 should hear nothing from us " save Jesus Christ and Him 
 crucified." The simple story : " Christ Jesus came into the 
 world to save sinners," should embalm every discourse with 
 its precious odor. It is idle to say, that we cannot always 
 bring it into our plan. Nothing is Gospel, except as it teaches 
 Jesus. Wo be unto us if we preach not the Gospel ! Never 
 should we leave the pulpit until we have shown the sinner 
 the way to find Christ. The Gospel never tires, its argu- 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 245 
 
 ments never fail. It is a philosophical system most perfect, 
 when most free from human admixtures. 
 
 At the same time it is true that our apostle often directs 
 his efforts to the elucidation of some particular doctrine, as in 
 Romans, justification by faith ; in Galatians, the inutility of 
 the old law after Christ ; in Ephesians, the mighty power of 
 the Spirit ; in Colossians, the connection of that Spirit with 
 Christ's person and work ; in Hebrews, the anticipative proof 
 of the Gospel in the Levitical economy. In these his argu- 
 ment is direct, but not exclusive of other great doctrines. 
 He shows us clearly what preachers so often forget, that 
 truth lies not in the carrying out of separate principles, but 
 in the harmony of them all. He always honors his Lord 
 Jesus ; always insists upon the transforming influence of 
 Christian faith ; always vindicates the consistency of Chris- 
 tian doctrine and Christian practice. It is the neglect of this, 
 the losing sight of the whole system when considering a part 
 of it, that produces such startling paradoxes and impudent 
 novelties of theology, breaking the doctrines of religion up 
 into disconnected and often conflicting fragments. Doctrines 
 should never appear as fragments, but their relation to the 
 whole system ought to be seen. Here is the difficulty between 
 doctrinal preaching and practical preaching. The very 
 thought of separating them is mischievous. Why should we 
 divorce what God has joined together? Doctrine fails of its 
 end, when it does not enforce good practice ; and there will 
 be no good practice without sound doctrine. They are as 
 inseparable as the minds and hearts of our hearers. As 
 mind and heart are one soul, so doctrine and duty should 
 21* 
 
246 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 make up one sermon. In the apostle Paul we always find 
 them thus united, and he, who does not follow that sacred 
 example fails as a preacher. 
 
 To secure such directness, the several plans of our apostle's 
 writings and speeches are regular and perfectly foreseen by 
 himself. His epistles, in this respect superior to those of his 
 brethren, when most severely analyzed, acquire fresh strength 
 from the examination. Indeed, such a key is necessary to 
 the fuU understanding of the several parts and scope of the 
 whole. The divisions of chapters and verses in our common 
 Bibles are not sufficiently regulated by the sense, and our 
 people lose greatly from the habit of reading and meditating 
 upon disconnected parts. Much of the seeming obscurity 
 of Paul, indeed all, except what arises from the mysteries of 
 the " things hard to be understood," of which he treated, 
 and the difiiculty of rendering the original into our tongue, is 
 from our ignorance of each epistle as a whole. When we 
 have mastered his plan, or if we give ourselves up to the 
 current of his thoughts from the beginning, all will seem logi- 
 cal and direct. Yet his plan is not stringent. His logic is 
 of the open, not the closed hand.* It lies not in syllogisms 
 and precise steps of naked reasoning, formal propositions, 
 and corollaries ; nor does he wind up with a quod erat demoji- 
 strandum. His is the logic of an orator, of a practical, earn- 
 est man, a Christian eager to move the hearts of his hearers. 
 
 * Zeno . . manu demonstrare solebat, quid inter has arteis interes- 
 set; nam cum compresserat digitos pagnumque fecerat dialecticara 
 aiebat ejusmodi esse: cum autem diduxerat et manum dilataverat, 
 palmae illias similem eloquentiam esse dicebat. Cic. Brutus, 32. 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 247 
 
 Therefore, his apostrophizing addresses, his appeals to the 
 deep emotions of our nature, his dramatic exhibitions, and 
 grand bursts of lofty ejaculation. But he always looks 
 through to his end. He has the goal ever in his eye. 
 
 So is order a primary requisite to the clearness and point 
 of our discourses. We preach at a venture, when we know 
 not what we are going to do. Every thought should be in 
 its proper place, precisely where it will accumulate the force 
 of the demonstration. Yet, as in Paul, that order need not 
 be laid open at full length, near the opening of a discourse, a 
 habit imposed upon the pulpit by scholastic affectation, but 
 unknown in the former ages of the church.* In didactic 
 discourses it is well enough, perhaps is necessary, to assist the 
 hearer. But, generally, it is far better that our order should 
 develop itself to our hearers in our progress, than be formally 
 set before them. It puts them on their guard against our proper 
 arts of conviction, challenges as it were their minds to resis- 
 tance, when it were wiser to surprise them into an acknowl- 
 edgment of the truth by progressive reasoning. What should 
 we think of a general, who should advise his adversary of 
 the plan of his attack ? Yet the hearts of those we address 
 are naturally at enmity with the truth. It also destroys the 
 unity of a discourse by breaking it into several, each requir- 
 ing its exordium, argument, and conclusion. It cramps the 
 increasing force of eloquence, and binds the wings of the 
 soul, compelling it to descend at each division and renew its 
 flight, which should be ever onward and upward. It makes 
 
 * See Penelon's Second Dialogue on Eloquence. 
 
248 ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 necessary such unseemly impertinencies as " not to anticipate 
 another head," or " as we said before," or " this we shall treat 
 of more at length in another place ;" thus exhibiting the 
 preacher entangled by his own rules. Besides which, it 
 often leads us astray from the main point, and perverts the 
 text from being, what it usually is, a link in a chain of rea- 
 soning, into an imaginary microcosm of all truth ; whereas 
 we should use it precisely as the sacred writer intended it, 
 else we are almost sure to go astray. We often find in prac- 
 tice that our divisions, however clear they may seem at first, 
 alter or maim the whole purpose of our discourse, and ex- 
 haust our time in preliminary details to such a degree, that 
 little or none is left for the enforcement of our main thought. 
 There should be method, but that method so managed as to 
 be a help, not an embarrassment. Chalmers and Melville 
 give us some fine specimens of the clear, well-ordered dis- 
 course, without such shackling impediments. They are 
 free in a regulated liberty ; especially the former, who ex- 
 ults in the grandeur of his conceptions while tending steadily 
 to enforce the great truth of which his soul is eloquent. It 
 has been said of him, that his sermons contain each but one 
 idea, repeated and turned over again and again. Be it so. 
 If he have but one idea, what an idea it is ! It is worth a 
 month's preaching from the creeping critics who cavil at him. 
 He is no mean man, that can send his people home with 
 one great truth fastened upon their souls in its strength and 
 beauty. 
 
 Nor was the apostle unmindful of circumstances, but on 
 the contrary he skilfully adapted himself to place, occasion, 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 249 
 
 and people. His subject, arguments, and inferences, are 
 combined to secure attention, and aid his purpose of con- 
 vincing. We see this in his reasoning before Felix and 
 Drusilla " of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to 
 come ;" in his defence before Agrippa, where he quotes from 
 Jewish scriptures, alludes to Jewish customs, and advances 
 Jewish doctrines, as the bases of his argument ; in his speech 
 upon Areopagus, where, taking his text from the altar to the 
 unknown God, he refers to the magnificent temples and 
 statues on the Acropolis, and uses the prominent notions of 
 the principal Athenian schools to enforce his arguments, at 
 the same time making an apt quotation from a philosophical 
 poet ; and in the figures he employs when writing to Gentiles 
 or Jews.* 
 
 Our Saviour also gives us some delightful instances of this. 
 A sparrow flutters in the air, lilies are growing in some neigh- 
 boring garden, a fig-tree is budding or shooting forth her 
 young leaves by the way side, the harvest is waving ripe for 
 the sickle, or the sunset " sky is red and lowering," and each 
 suggests some profitable parable. Indeed, there is no lack of 
 scriptural examples and texts to warrant our drawing rich 
 lessons from the Spring, the Summer, the Autumn and Win- 
 ter, and a thousand other changes of the world around us. 
 The preacher has three divine books from which to take 
 themes and illustrations of evangelical truth, the book of 
 Nature, and the book of Providence, as well as the book of 
 
 * " He never speaks of the games to the Romans, or of adoption to 
 the Greeks." — Hannah More. 
 
250 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 Grace. To do this well, forms no small part of directness 
 in preaching, for men's minds are much subject to things 
 present, and are moved by what concerns them peculiarly, 
 and won to listen by a recognition of their particular opin- 
 ions, or a consideration of their special circumstances. He 
 has a happy mind and a holy heart, who can use all these 
 to give variety and interest to his preaching, while they 
 serve his direct purpose of glorifying God and improving 
 man ! Happy and holy is that pulpit from which on each 
 recurring day of peace, every class of hearers, learned and 
 unlearned, rich and poor, young and old, sinner and saint, find 
 their portion of meat in due season ! 
 
 A sincere and anxious purpose to do good, will produce 
 such a directness better than all the rules of rhetorical art. 
 Yet to acquire it fully, demands much study and fore- 
 thought, much observation and intimacy with the lives and 
 hearts of men, something of a poetical temperament, but 
 above all the guiding grace of Him, who knows the hearts 
 of his creatures and made and orders aU things for their 
 good. 
 
 4. His fulness. 
 
 It was the witty and pregnant advice of a veteran profess- 
 or : " Never to speak except we have something to say." Our 
 ofiice as teachers in the church, our seclusion for the purpose 
 of preparation, and our assumption of an oratorical attitude, 
 warrant the expectation of the people to hear from us that 
 which shall instruct and warm. They know something of 
 divine truth, perhaps much, and have no right to demand 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 251 
 
 from us curious novelties, for novelties in religion are always 
 error. But they may justly look for truth in new and inter- 
 esting forms. They come to learn the results of long study 
 and meditation and prayer condensed into the brief compass 
 of a sermon. Except we be acquainted thoroughly with our 
 subject as a whole and in all its parts, its relations and conse- 
 quences, the errors concerning it, and the contradictions 
 against it, we can never present it clearly and profitably to 
 others. Our thoughts will be weak and timid, and our style 
 meagre and faltering, for the plain reason that we distrust 
 ourselves. All attempts at covering this poverty and uncer- 
 tainty will be tumid and flatulent. The sermon " will drag 
 its slow length" wearily along, and the hearer, at the close, 
 know not, whether the preacher or himself is most to be 
 congratulated, that the task of filling up so many minutes is 
 over. But, when we are fully prepared, and our minds are 
 swelling with the thoughts, and our hearts with the emotions 
 our subject inspires, until there is a fountain head of ideas 
 pressing for utterance upon our lips, there will be an earger- 
 ness to speak, and a manifest consciousness of important mat- 
 ter to declare, that is eloquence itself. Our words will flow 
 freely and resolutely. Then there is no need of reaching 
 anxiously after irrelevant things to fill up the time ; or of 
 playing with mere words till by some happy chance we pick 
 up an idea. We are avaricious of every moment. We are 
 unwilling to give our hearers or ourselves any leisure. We 
 are impatient even of illustrations, which we admit but from 
 necessity, and then in brief, strong terms, weaving them, if 
 possible, into our arguments, and grudging a word that we 
 
252 ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 are not obliged to speak. For the moment an orator betrays 
 an inclination to linger, that he may dress up a figure, or 
 round his period gracefully, he shows himself more anxious 
 about his rhetoric than the enforcement of truth, and so loses 
 our respect and sympathy. 
 
 This fulness is very remarkable in St. Paul. His intro- 
 ductions are as brief as possible, consistently with reverence for 
 divine things and Christian courtesy. Even in them you see 
 the foreshadowing of his main purpose. He never labors for 
 thoughts, but for words to express rapidly and forcibly enough 
 the workings of his soul. He strides on like a giant re- 
 joicing in his strength. His every epithet adds some impor- 
 tant idea ; his figures never delay, but always advance him 
 towards his aim ; and you feel when he has finished, that, so 
 far from having exhausted himself, he could have expatiated 
 forever upon his divine theme. This is the reason of his 
 richness. He uses no tinsel gilding ; all that he says, is pure, 
 solid gold, studded with diamonds of price. He has the un- 
 searchable treasures of divine grace at his command, and he 
 expends freely as he has received. 
 
 Yet, I know of none so free from the affectation of concise- 
 ness. He never excludes an unnecessary word, but on the 
 contrary luxuriates in a full freedom of diction. He does not 
 hesitate to heap epithet upon epithet, name upon name, term 
 upon term, but never to tautology. Take one instance from 
 a multitude — that passage in the first chapter of Colossians, 
 where he speaks of Him into whose kingdom believers are 
 translated — " Who is the image of the invisible God, the first- 
 born of every creature ; for by him were all things created, 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. WB 
 
 that are in heaven and that are in earth, visible and invisible, 
 whether they be thrones or dominions, or principalities or 
 powers ; all things were created by him and for him ; and he 
 is before all things and by him all things consist ; and he is 
 the head of the body, the church ; who is the beginning, the 
 first-born from the dead, that in all things he might have the 
 preeminence ; for it pleased the Father that in him should all 
 fulness dwell." Now find me a word in the original of this 
 that you would willingly omit, that does not add force, convey 
 instruction, and aid his following argument ! Yet a poorer 
 writer would have contented himself with a few, and proceeded 
 deliberately to state each dignity of the Son of God in a sen- 
 tence by itself: while a conceited pretender to fulness would 
 have abounded only in verbosity, pleonasm, and tautology. 
 
 I love our apostle's long sentences. I love even his paren- 
 theses within parentheses. It is the grandeur and fulness of 
 his thoughts that thus burst the limits that are set for ordinarj 
 minds. Turn to the sentences just cited ; or that, which in- 
 cludes nearly all of the first and second chapters of Ephesians ; 
 or that on the resurrection in the XVth of 1st Corinthians ; 
 cut them up by periods into shorter divisions, put in every 
 noun, verb and copulative, and roll out every parenthesis by 
 itself, and see if you have not robbed them of all the fire, much 
 of the demonstration, and left little of the force. I am aware 
 that much advice is given to the students against long senten- 
 ces, lest they become obscure and diff"use. Let some caution 
 be had against the other extreme. Cicero tells us, that he 
 never heard of a Lacedaemonian orator ; and much as we ad- 
 mired the semper instans sihi of Thucydides, most of us could 
 
 22 
 
254 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 wish that he were more easily understood, though at the ex- 
 pense of some concisesness. From the diflBculty of reading 
 him, we may imagine the difficulty of hearing him. What is 
 well in the calm judicial style of the Attic historian, would 
 never answer in the glowing orator. A long sentence for the 
 sake of a long sentence, or from an inability to call up full and 
 expressive words, or a hesitating doubt how to conclude, is 
 affectation, ignorance, or awkwardness. But if there be a tide 
 in our souls, there should be a flow in our eloquence ; nor 
 should we dam it up into pools by too frequent periods. A dis- 
 course made up of brief sentences is like a succession of aphor- 
 isms. There wants a closer linking of them together. One 
 or two would be very impressive ; so many of them is like a 
 rope of sand. Besides, such sentences, if there be any connec- 
 tion in the preacher's thoughts, are brief only in appearance. 
 He has separated them only by grammatical forms and stops, 
 weakening but not destroying their relation to each other ; or 
 he gains concisesness at the expense of clearness, by leaving 
 out relatives and expletives, and confounding us with unaccep- 
 table ellipses. To avoid a parenthesis (which might give the 
 necessary exception or reference in an instant) he must be at 
 the pains to arrest the current of his thoughts, and fit in a new 
 entire sentence, nominative, verb, object, and all. Much, it is 
 true, depends upon circumstances; and here an educated 
 judgment must guide. A brief sentence often flashes truth 
 like lightning. St. Paul has many such. St. James excels 
 in them. There are truths which must be stated at once. 
 They are sublime in their simplicity, clear in their unity. 
 Some minds cannot run, but creep carefully along with inglori- 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 2S& 
 
 ous safety, where others leap and fly. Physical weakness 
 and a laboring breath unfit us for a lengthened effort. But 
 when the orator has it within him, he should let his soul soar 
 and expand in majestic liberty. It is no time to practice the 
 precision of the fencing school in the thick fight. Genius, 
 well trained, is its own best rule. The orator, who betrays 
 his art, has lost its best advantage. He may know how ac- 
 cording to theory, he ought to be successful, but with mere 
 elegant correctness he will be like Phelereus : iUe eruditis- 
 simus quidem omnium, sed non tarn, armis institutus quam 
 palcestra.* 
 
 Store your memory with good language ; practise correct- 
 ness with a severe and diligent pen ; see to it before you 
 attempt to speak, that you know your own order, and that it 
 is good ; fill your mind to overflowing from the divine oracles ; 
 invoke the Holy Spirit to fill your heart with the love of Grod ; 
 then lift up the flood-gates and pour it forth. 
 
 Some call our apostle obscure, involved, irregular. They 
 do not know him. Happy were we, could we so err with 
 him. His eloquence is no shallow, babbling brook, no stag- 
 nant pool ; but a broad, deep, rapid river, with the winds of 
 the Spirit sweeping its waves, that break dazzlingly in the 
 beams of the Sun of righteousness, while the waters are pure 
 as the fountain of God, and bear to the ages to come the 
 manifold wisdom of his grace. Stand on the bank, and it 
 sweeps by too swiftly to reveal its depths. Launch boldly 
 on its tide, and you shall be borne onward to God and glory. 
 
 * Cic. Brutus, 9. 
 
256 eloquence of the pulpit. 
 
 5. His Energy. 
 
 Energy is, properly, power in exercise. By the energy of 
 a Preacher, I mean the force with which he employs his va- 
 rious talents to make us feel the truth. It is not a single 
 faculty, but the strength of his soul bearing upon ours. It 
 must come from his soul. It cannot be counterfeited. To 
 make others feel, we must feel ourselves. All authorities 
 agree in the necessity of energy to the true orator. It is the 
 life of eloquence, that which gives it breath and fire and 
 power. "Without it the most finished rhetoric is formal and 
 cold. The people (and it is for them we preach) love it. It 
 is a sign of honesty in the speaker. He would subdue us by 
 a mastery he acknowledges himself. It is not he, but the 
 truth which makes us captive. He is but the instrument, 
 though a willing, ardent one. Men have a strong passion for 
 excitement, and energy always produces it. We yield more 
 readily to sympathy than to logic or persuasion. 
 
 It does not necessarily imply vehemence. There is energy 
 in deep pathos, in simple description, nay, sometimes in silence 
 itself Whatever subdues us, makes us feel, impels our pas- 
 sions, has energy. Who can add force to those two words : 
 "Jesus wept?" Could the sacred writer have made us feel 
 the submissive grief of the bereaved father, more than he has 
 by that brief sentence : " Aaron held his peace ? " When 
 St. Paul asks : " if God be for us, who can be against us ? " 
 How impressive the absence of an answer ! It is a challenge 
 none dare reply to. 
 
 Energy is very different from declamation. The energetic 
 orator, while he may seem to declaim, demonstrates with 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 257 
 
 greater force. You see this in Demosthenes. His logic is 
 perfect, but he discovers no art. He tells his auditors what 
 they ought to know, what needs no proof, but what every noble 
 feeling should make them own and act accordingly. Now he 
 is anxious for their safety, now for their glory ; now he dis- 
 trusts, now he praises them ; he stirs up their hatred of tyrants, 
 he appeals to their love of freedom. His energy transfuses 
 to their bosoms the emotions of his own. 
 
 It is greatly assisted by judicious apostrophe. Imagination 
 then brings before us the apostrophized beings (sometimes 
 even inanimate objects) as witnesses, pleaders, judges. We 
 feel the power of their presence, their censure, their praise, 
 their authority. Take this example, quoted from memory out 
 of a sermon by the younger Waugh : " The value of the 
 soul — who can tell it ? Angels know it not, they never fell. 
 Devils know it not. Their sufferings are never at an end. 
 Son of God, thou knowest it, for thou didst pay its price ! " 
 Yet apostrophe must not be frequent, for the plain reason, that 
 the hearer would be distracted from the main subject by such 
 repeated diversions. In the passage just quoted, were we to 
 make three apostrophes, as : " Angels, do ye know it ? Devils, 
 do ye know it ? " the appeal to the Son of God at the close 
 would be tame. 
 
 To be energetic the apostrophe should appear unstudied, 
 and from the impulse of the moment. It should be perfectly 
 within our power. Nothing is more ridiculous than a preach- 
 er appealing in words to an invisible being, while he keeps 
 his eyes fixed upon the paper, speaks on in his ordinary tone, 
 and perhaps hesitates until he turns the leaf. An apostrophe 
 
 22* 
 
258 ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 is better brief. It should very rarely be long. It is impossi- 
 ble to maintain the illusion beyond a few moments. The best 
 orator would fail in continuing the effort. Some should never 
 attempt apostrophe. They have not imagination enough to 
 conceive it well, or, if it be conceived, not the voice nor com- 
 mand of action to execute it. Failure in either disgraces us. 
 If we be not sure of success, it were far better to let it 
 alone. 
 
 Dialogue, of which we have some good examples in the 
 ancients (as the first of whom we rank our apostle), is yet 
 more difficult to manage. If it be supposed between the 
 preacher and his hearers, he making for them their replies or 
 putting questions to himselfj it may be carried on for a little 
 time, but not long well. The repeated changes of voice neces- 
 sary to give it effect, break the flow and force of his elocution. 
 If it be supposed between two other persons, the preacher 
 must become an actor. He must assume the language and 
 versatile tone of conversation. He loses the character of an 
 orator, and will find it difficult to assume it again. Few can 
 be thus histrionic without great loss of dignity, which is always 
 a loss of energy. "When they afterward would be real, the 
 people think them still acting. It is painful to know that such 
 a perversion of the true style for the pulpit has been much 
 attempted of late, especially by wandering preachers bent 
 upon getting up immediate excitement, rather than permanent 
 usefulness. In some instances they have played downright 
 farces in the house of God. Ludicrous and low familiarities 
 have been put into the mouths of supposed persons ; nay, the 
 devil has been called from the pit, the glorified saints from 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 259 
 
 heaven, even (liorribile dictu !) the Holy God himself, to play 
 parts in the wretched scene. Miserable preachers ! Mise- 
 rable men ! How dare ye thus trifle ? How dare ye thus 
 blaspheme? — "It awakens attention." — " It impresses." — "It 
 is successful in doing good." Impressive ! Successful ! O 
 thou holy, solemn Jesus ! Can a soul that has resisted thy 
 love, thy tears, thy pangs, thy dying cries, be laughed into 
 repentance ? 
 
 An energetic speaker will sometimes exclaim with great 
 effect. Garrick declared that Whitfield's " Oh ! " was more 
 impressive than it was possible to imagine. Exclamations of 
 grief, pity, love, abhorrence, wonder, will burst from a full soul 
 that cannot wait to syllable words. Nature has supplied them 
 for this. Paul has many such, but never one in vain. Yet 
 these may be repeated too often, and then they become idle, 
 if not worse, betraying weakness in the preacher as unable to 
 articulate his emotions, or hypocrisy in pretending what he 
 does not feel. Truly eloquent as President Davies was, his 
 frequent ohs ! and ahs ! and similar cries disfigure his precious 
 pages. 
 
 Energy depends much on the choice of words. Sometimes 
 a brief one is essentially necessary to force, sometimes a full 
 polysyllable gives great grandeur. Good taste must select. 
 It is told of Robert Hall, that he preached his famous sermon 
 on modern infidelity before it was written. A short-hand 
 writer of great skill took down the words from his lips. He 
 read his full notes to the orator with much approbation until 
 he came to that energetic appeal : " Eternal God ! on what 
 are thine enemies intent ? What are those enterprises of guilt 
 
260 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 and horror, that for the safety of their performers require to 
 be enveloped in a darkness which the eye of heaven cannot 
 penetrated " Penetrate, sir ! " he exclaimed, " 1 never said 
 penetrate. The word is too long. I could not have waited 
 for it, — pierce^ sir, write piercer Perhaps Mr. Hall's style 
 would bear a little more of such criticism. We find a good 
 example of the other in this magnificent sentence of Richard 
 Allestree when speaking of the early martyrs, he says : " God's 
 furnace made their crowns splendid, gave them a majesty of 
 shine and an imperial glory."* How the very cadence of that 
 word " imperial " magnifies the thought ! 
 
 Energy rarely needs noise, though a full, clear, round tone 
 should prevail. There are times when extreme loudness, so 
 that the voice does not break, is necessary, as in the prophet, 
 " earth ! earth ! earth ! hear the word of the Lord." The 
 whole earth cannot hear a gentle tone. Yet we have all felt 
 the power of a whisper or deep low utterance, distinctly giv- 
 ing forth some earnest sentence. Talma, the French Master 
 of the Stage, declared that he studied forty years to be ener- 
 getic without noise. Deep emotion is averse to noise, except 
 it becomes frantic, and a preacher should never rave. It is 
 majestic, melting, terrible in " a still, small voice." The vo- 
 ciferation of many of our preachers has no more eloquence in 
 it than the roaring of Bashan's bulls. 
 
 Rapidity impairs it. There should be no hurry. A good 
 speaker becomes slower as he grows energetic. He gives 
 every word its full effect. He pauses insensibly to allow each 
 thought to settle in the mind, and to gather strength for a new 
 
 * Richard Allestree, Sermon 1st. 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 261 
 
 effort. Hurry is never dignified, and, whatever be his emo- 
 tion, the true orator never bemeans himself. The rapid speak- 
 er is either inarticulate or runs on trippingly in a light man- 
 ner. There must be some surprising excellence in other 
 respects to render such a preacher tolerable. 
 
 Gesture is essential to energetic speaking, but then the 
 gesture should be in its place, prompt to the thought, natural, 
 strong yet graceful. It ought to be instinctive, but the instinct 
 regulated by intelligent practice. Too much gesture impairs 
 the effect of all. Too little is inconsistent with nature, which 
 expresses emotion by such external signs. Strong action must 
 be reserved for strong passages ; at other times it should be 
 easy and quiet. Generally violence is offensive because ex- 
 travagant ; but we have Cicero's praise of Anthony as excel- 
 lent in his manner : " Gestus erat non verba exprimens sed cum 
 sententiis congruens, manus, humeri, latera, supplosio pedis, 
 status, incessus omnisque motus cum verbis et sententiis con- 
 sentiens."* Good gesture is very much impeded by the shape 
 of our pulpits, which forbid the long descending sweep, arrest 
 the hand by the cushion and so drive it above the head, which 
 is rarely decorous. The true position for an orator is stand- 
 ing forth free, without notes, without any screen. Demos- 
 thenes himself would have failed, had he spoken out of 
 Diogenes' tub, from which many of our pulpits seem to have 
 been fashioned. Yet with all our difficulties, it is most strange 
 that good action is so rare, when it is visible in every excited 
 child, and in any man arguing with his neighbor on the side- 
 walk. Let nature dictate, but let us be sure that it is nature. 
 
 * Cic. Brutus, 38. 
 
262 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 The manner of the pulpit has become so unnatural, that a 
 natural speaker is condemned by the many as theatrical. 
 "What is called a preaching manner is the very worst we could 
 adopt. 
 
 Expression of countenance is essential to energy in the 
 preacher. "Without it we are but as speaking automata, beat- 
 ing the air by machinery. The eye, the brow, the lips, even 
 the nostrils should speak, for such is the first and universal 
 language of nature. But how can we give rules for an ex- 
 pression that must beam from the soul ? What need of ad- 
 vising those, whose countenances in the pulpit are ever down- 
 ward with their eyes fixed upon their notes ! It is impossible 
 for a close reader to be an eloquent or energetic orator. He 
 has too much to do in taking care of his papers, and decipher- 
 ing his manuscript. The more free we are from notes, the 
 more likely to be energetic. 
 
 Energy should be accrescent. A speaker ought to be in 
 earnest from the very beginning, his anxious, determined, 
 solemn air manifesting that he is full of an important message 
 and eager to do good. Yet his energy should gradually rise 
 in thought, language, and manner. His hearers are not pre- 
 pared to sympathize with him at once ; and, then, his vehe- 
 mence appears im^jc-rtinent. It is far better to win their 
 attention by a gentler method; nay, even to lull them, hus- 
 banding all our resources of power until their ears are fairly 
 ours, and then to sweep them on with us, never suffering them 
 to flag. Some have the talent of taking an audience by storm, 
 but it is very difiicult to keep up the excitement, and in a 
 failure to do so, the thoughts that follow are made to seem 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 263 
 
 weaker than they really are by the contrast. There should 
 be a continual ascent to the close, that close being the most 
 impressive of all. There is no need of recapitulating all the 
 points. Choose the stronger — urge them in different and more 
 earnest language. Appeal, beseech, assert, as if your whole 
 soul were bent upon the salvation of those who hear you, and 
 upon the glory of God for whom you speak. Be sure that 
 the final sentence leaves every soul vibrating like a swept 
 harp. 
 
 The two modern schools of pulpit eloquence are the French 
 and the English ; at least these have the most followers. 
 They differ like the genius of their nations. The English 
 grave, solid, sententious and argumentative. The French ar- 
 dent, impulsive, passionate : though certainly a few among 
 them, as Bourdaloue and Bridaine, have a grandeur and pa- 
 thos beyond any of their insular neighbors. Nothing can be 
 sweeter than the pleadings of Fenelon, and Massillon search- 
 es and lays bare the heart like an anatomist. Bossuet, I am 
 constrained to say, I cannot so much admire. His fame rests 
 mainly on his panegyrics, no enviable distinction for a preach- 
 er of the Gospel. It is, however, due to him to say, that his 
 great eloquence revived the power of the pulpit in France, 
 and that his energy may be studied with profit. I would be 
 far from giving the credit of superior evangelical energy to 
 the French school. The English are as far beyond them in 
 real power of thought, as the French excel in energy of 
 manner. The first triumph over our reason, and their influ- 
 ence is permanent. The other over our passions without 
 fixing our principles. We are compelled to think by the 
 
264 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 English ; we only weep or wonder with the French. The 
 restraints of Eoman Catholic rule over religious opinion, have 
 undoubtedly had a great share in this, for we find Saurin at 
 the Hague reasoning as mightily as any Briton of them all. 
 Yet by far the greater part of the French orators are absurd- 
 ly vehement ; their quick starts, their repeated exclamations, 
 their constant strain after effect are unworthy the pulpit or 
 the tribune. The English, on the contrary, want earnestness. 
 They are not orators so much as essayists and teachers. Their 
 sermons are written to be read rather than spoken. They 
 have a characteristic affectation of composure in the pulpit 
 untrue to nature, and savoring of their ecclesiastical assump- 
 tions, and excessive attachment to form and usage. The 
 Dissenters have less of it, though even they cannot shake off 
 the hauteur that seems born with an Englishman. 
 
 The Scotch are very strong, intense, and especially rich in 
 Scripture, but they lack grace. In this I do not include Blair 
 or Allison, who are in faults and merits rather English than 
 Scotch. 
 
 The Irish manner has been justly condemned as florid and 
 hyperbolical. Yet Ireland has given England her best ora- 
 tors. Her eloquence is successful ; the best proof of power, 
 and that power lies in its fervid energy, 
 
 A system for cultivating energetic oratory should be ec- 
 lectic from all these. Could we combine soundness with 
 ardor, natural earnestness with severe thought, the divine 
 with the orator ; in a word, could we acquire that resistless 
 and majestic energy which clothes our apostle with his holy 
 caution and accuracy of truth, we should reach the high- 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 265 
 
 est style of eloquence to which the Christian preacher can 
 aspire. 
 
 I have given no illustrations of St. Paul's energy. There 
 is no need. You have read him and have felt it. Study 
 him and imitate. 
 
 To make the example of our holy apostle useful to us in 
 the best degree, we must look within the external qualities of 
 his noble eloquence, to those divine graces, which animated, 
 directed and sustained his cultivated genius. They give him 
 that supernatural charm and spiritual power, without which 
 aU his rhetoric would be poor and vain to win our hearts. I 
 do not now allude merely to the divine afflMus we technically 
 term inspiration, which breathed by the Holy Ghost through 
 all the faculties of his soul, so ordered all his thoughts and 
 superintended even his words, that what he declared was 
 the very truth of God. That extraordinary gift of the Spirit 
 cannot be ours except so far as we make known the truth as 
 it is in Jesus, and thus transfer to our own the inspiration of 
 Scriptural language. He was inspired as an apostle, but he 
 was also sanctified as a Christian, and those virtues and affec- 
 tions wrought by the adorable Sanctifier in every true child 
 of God, which as the eflFects of grace are called Christian 
 graces, and are given to all who cultivate them by the means 
 of God's appointments, may furnish us as they did him with 
 the motives, zeal, and attributes of a devoted and (by God's 
 blessing) successful ministry. He himself gave us a summary 
 of these graces when he wrote to the Corinthian brethren. 
 
 23 
 
266 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 " Now abideth these three, Faith, Hope, Charity ; and the 
 greatest of these is charity." Truly did they abide in his holy, 
 vigorous, and ardent soul. 
 
 Paul's FAITH was vital. It was the life of his religion and 
 apostleship, as he testifies of himself in words we know to be 
 true ; " The life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the 
 faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for 
 me." It was active faith, working in him by love ; transform- 
 ing, purifying his heart ; and victoriously dominant, over- 
 coming the world. 
 
 He copied from his own experience and consciousness, when 
 he defined faith to be " the substance of things hoped for, and 
 the evidence of things not seen." When he gave up all that 
 the carnal heart loves for all that the spiritual heart desires, he 
 " knew in whom he had believed, and that he was able to keep 
 all he had committed unto him." This gives such strong confi- 
 dence to all his assertions. You can discern in him no wa- 
 vering, no hesitancy, no supposition nor conjecture. He 
 always speaks like one sure of truth in what he says ; and 
 as sure that the truth of Jesus is immeasurably above all else 
 the mind can contemplate. We feel that his declarations are 
 not dogmatism, but the utterings of full warranted conviction. 
 The great facts and events of redemption are with him 
 scarcely in the past or future, but present, visible, tangible, 
 grasped. When he speaks of the cross, it is as though he stood 
 at its foot beholding at once the passion of his Lord and the 
 glory of the atonement. If he speaks of the intercession, it is 
 as though the heavens were opened, and he saw Jesus before 
 the throne and prayed with his Master's pleading speech ; if 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 267 
 
 of the resurrection, the trumpet of the ai-changel and the voice 
 of God are as it were sounding in his ears, the sheeted dead 
 bursting their sepulchi-es, and the living Christians rising 
 through the air. The Holy Ghost is not afar off, but a di- 
 vinity within him. He has an actual fellowship with the 
 Father and his Son Jesus Christ. His conversation is al- 
 ready in the heaven he anticipates. The innumerable angels 
 company around him, and even in the flesh he is come to 
 Mount Ziou and the triumphant church of the first-born. This 
 is a high pitch of faith, but we must reach it, before we can 
 attain to the authoritative power of his eloquent truth. 
 
 The reliance of his faith was complete upon the sufficiency 
 of the Gospel as the means of salvation. He wants nothing 
 but the Gospel — no philosophy of human invention, no false 
 ornament, above all, no mechanical contrivance to trick men 
 as it were into repentance, or lift them over the stumbling 
 block of the cross. Bodily exercises were to him silly and 
 profane intrusions upon the spirituality of Christ's religion ; 
 and very far was he from that pernicious Jesuistry too com- 
 mon among Protestants, of converting the Gospel to men's 
 wicked prejudices for the sake of swelling the number of 
 nominal converts to the Gospel. There is his crowning ex- 
 cellence, Christ, Christ, none but Christ ; Christ as a teacher, 
 Christ as a priest, Christ as a king, Christ the wisdom of 
 God, Christ the power of God, Christ all and in all. "With- 
 out Christ he never thought to succeed, and seeming success, 
 except through Christ, was a mocking vanity. my friends, 
 this is what we need. It is to be baptized in Christ, to breathe 
 Christ in every sentence. Too often is Christ excluded by 
 
268 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 his own ministers from his own pulpit. There have been 
 and I fear still are, sermons preached by those who claim a 
 high orthodoxy, in which the name of Jesus has not been 
 found, and his cross, his throne, his intercession and his glory, 
 have been thrust aside for wire-drawn speculation, and am- 
 bitious novelty. I know that I am repeating what I have 
 said before, but let me repeat again and again what our apostle 
 loved to repeat so often, that the cross is the grand attractive 
 of our blessed rehgion, and that we fail in faith and must fail 
 in real usefulness, when we allow any expedient to carry us 
 off from our only true trust as Christians and ministers of the 
 grace of life. 
 
 Paul's HOPE was strong and incessant as his faith. It was 
 the natural fruit, nay, we may say in a certain sense, the ex- 
 ercise of it. 
 
 He hoped for success ; not in that exacting, dictating, pre- 
 scribing spirit, which demands visible, immediate success of a 
 certain kind as the condition of our zeal and perseverance. 
 But he believed that God had called him to his work ; he be- 
 lieved the truth mighty against all error ; he believed the 
 promise of the Spirit that God's word must accomphsh that 
 whereunto he sent it ; he believed that God's wisest, best, 
 highest glory would abound through the preaching of His 
 own Gospel ; and for that glory he lived, labored, suffered, and 
 was willing to die. Therefore he was fuU of a hope that 
 could not be made ashamed, for he knew that whether his 
 preaching was a savor of life or of death, whether men heard 
 or forbore to hear, God would have praise throughout all 
 ages, and that was the success he longed to obtain. He was 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 269 
 
 God's servant, bound to work for him in all circumstances. It 
 was his earnest desire that he might win souls for Christ, and 
 he had a warrant for hoping that he should see some success 
 in the conversion of sinners and the edification of saints yet, 
 having done aU in his power to persuade men to be recon- 
 ciled unto God, he could commit the cause he loved to Him 
 who alone is efficient for good, and who ever judgeth right- 
 eously. He greatly rejoiced to see the work of the Lord 
 prospering in his hands, but he would have wrought on like 
 his Master " the despised and rejected of men," though " aU 
 day long he had stretched forth his hand and no man regard- 
 ed." 
 
 The apostle hoped for his reward, not because of any merit 
 in his zeal, but of free grace purchased by Christ and treas- 
 ured up in him for every faithful servant of his Gospel. The 
 great example to whom he looked was Jesus, " who for the 
 joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the 
 shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of 
 God." That which God promised, and proposed as a motive 
 to his devotion he did not forbid himself to desire ; but, on 
 the contrary, the contemplation of his crown, his palm, his 
 harp in glory filled him with the most ravishing delight, and 
 urged him to new and still increasing efforts to attain unto 
 that for which he was apprehended of Christ. He lived in- 
 deed for God's glory, but according to the blessed scheme of 
 redemption he saw his own eternal joy in that glory. He 
 lived for Christ and he knew that to die was gain, for he 
 should be partaker of Christ's glory as he was in his suffer- 
 ings. Therefore we find him, when pressed by trouble and 
 23* 
 
270 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 danger, looking forward with joyful hope beyond time and 
 the grave ; reckoning that " the sorrows of this present time 
 are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be 
 revealed in tis ;" nay, that " our light afflictions, which are 
 but for a moment, shall work out for us a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory ; for we look," saith he, " not upon 
 the things that are seen, but the things that are not seen ; for 
 the things which are seen are temporal, but the things that 
 are not seen are eternal." 
 
 The joy of the Redeemer's reward he knew would be in 
 the eternal blessedness of His redeemed family ; that He 
 would " see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied," when 
 He should look from His blood-bought throne over the ten 
 thousand times ten thousand thousand of His church all ra- 
 diant in His own image, and know that among the host there 
 is not one stain upon their consciences, one pang in their 
 hearts, one doubt in their minds, but that aU are happy, holy 
 as Himself, and He made them so. Among that ransomed 
 throng, reflecting as in a mirror the glory of his Lord, he 
 hoped to stand, and sing and admire. Paul hoped to enter 
 into this very joy of his Master ; to see the fruit, through 
 grace, of his own ministry, the children for whom his own 
 soul had travailed ; to know that many among those shining 
 ones had been converted through his words, guided by his 
 counsels, and made wise by his teachings ; and as the thunder- 
 ing hallelujah, loud and musical as the voice of many waters, 
 rolls up its flood of harmony that breaks at the foot of the 
 throne, to recognize among the choristers those whom he first 
 taught to lisp the praises of Almighty love. Yes, he regard- 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 271 
 
 fed them as not only in time, but throughout eternity, his 
 " dearly beloved and longed for, his joy and his crown ;" for 
 he says to a company of his spiritual children : " What is our 
 hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in the 
 presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming ? For ye 
 are our glory and our joy." 
 
 Indeed, throughout the New Testament we must remark 
 the close connection between hope and earnest, steady Chris- 
 tian principle. The motives of the Christian, his great en- 
 couragements to faithful endurance and constant zeal, are to 
 be brought from eternity and heaven. We live Christian 
 lives only as we live lor eternity. It is a bringing down and 
 a perverting of the Gospel from its chief purpose, when we 
 use it merely as a rectifier of social morality and an occasion 
 of joy or sorrow in this life. These blessings it does indeed 
 partially bestow, but ever mostly and best when we seek only 
 after heaven. They are only as the few rich clusters brought 
 by the spies to the tribes in the desert compared with the full 
 vintage on the other side of Jordan. We have no right to 
 expect anything but trouble and trial, and arduous labor here ; 
 all our comforts are but faint earnests, dim types, and shadowy 
 glimpses, to set us a longing after " the inheritance incorrupt- 
 ible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Next to the con- 
 straining love of God in Christ, the most powerful argument 
 of the Gospel, and of our apostle as its preacher, is the 
 contrast of eternal things with those of time. A heathen 
 philosopher taught that " the end of all wisdom is to learn 
 how to die ;" let us, full of the hope of the glory of God, 
 imitate Paul in teaching our fellow sinners that the best 
 
272 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 wisdom is to learn how to live forever in holiness and 
 
 joy- 
 
 " The greatest of these is charity," said our apostle. 
 Greatest it is, because the fruit, the blessed consummation and 
 triumph of all. Greatest of all was it in his own large heart. 
 Love ruled him supremely. It was the love of God that won 
 him. " We love him because he first loved us," says he. As 
 he contemplated the love of Christ, its height, its depth, its 
 length and breadth, the tide of redeeming love pressed so 
 strongly upon his soul, as to bear him away " to live not for 
 himself, but for Him who died for him and rose again." He 
 rejoiced, he exulted in being permitted to do anything for 
 Him who had done so much for his soul and promised to do 
 so much more. He gave himself up to be a Hving sacrifice in 
 flames of love, accounting it a reasonable service. So far from 
 being grievous, it was perfect hberty to be found in the way 
 of God's commandments. It was this love which so uphfted 
 him above aU meaner passions. This love to God and his 
 Christ originated and inspired his love for the brethren and 
 the world of sinners. It was not a love of natural relation- 
 ship, though it hallowed and exalted such affection, for it was 
 his heart's prayer and desire that Israel, his kinsmen accord- 
 ing to the flesh, might be saved. It was not a love from 
 worldly motives, for he loved, in the face of their enmity, the 
 very persecutors that thirsted for his life ; and he was a debt- 
 or to the Greek, the Roman and the Barbarian. It was not 
 a love of sect, though from his love to Christ, he loved Chris- 
 tians most of aU. Nor was it only love to God and man, for 
 he warms with earnest affection, when he speaks of the holy 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 273 
 
 angels, ministers of Jesus, and their certain union with the 
 church in glory. It was the love of God which made him so 
 love his creatures ; the love he had for Christ, who loved the 
 world, that made him love all his fellow-sinners and desire their 
 salvation ; and he delighted in the church as showing forth 
 the energies of God's grace on earth, and destined to glorify 
 him in all ages. Therefore he loved his work better than all 
 earth could bestow. Therefore his faith and hope filled him 
 the more with love for the objects of his ministry. This gave 
 such ardor to his zeal, such enlargement to his desires, such 
 confidence to his prayers. Hear that invocation ; " Now the 
 Lord of peace himself give you peace always by all means." 
 What a comprehensiveness of faith and love and hope is there 1 
 Hear him, too, at the moment of his most joyful anticipation, 
 when expecting soon to be offered up, he awaited his corona- 
 tion by the hand of his Master : " Henceforth there is laid up 
 for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the right- 
 eous judge shall give to me at that day ; and not to me only, 
 but unto them also that love his appearing." His joy was not 
 complete until his hope had included by its blessedness, all 
 those whom he loved so well for loving his Loi-d Jesus Christ. 
 Ah ! beloved brethren, all will be in vain without this 
 charity. We may have the eloquence of angels, the wit of 
 all philosophy, and the learning of all science ; but without 
 charity, love supreme to God in Christ, and to all men for his 
 sake, our preaching will be an empty and idle noise. Noth- 
 ing else can free us from unjust bigotry of sect, which so often 
 turns us aside from our true work, to wrangle about " foolish 
 and unlearned questions, and such as engender strife ;" make 
 
274 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 US patient amidst the disgusts of the world and " the contradic- 
 tion of sinners," that trial which the Master himself found to 
 be so great ; and expel from our hearts all selfish desire of 
 ease, or reputation, or worldly delight, which would otherwise 
 enervate our spirit. Nothing but love can be self-sacrificing, 
 patient, laborious, forgiving, forbearing, and long-suffering, as 
 every minister of Christ should live and endure, until the Mas- 
 ter bids him enter into his rest. The love of God in Christ must 
 be the fragrant oil of our consecration, anointing our heads 
 and flowing down even to the skirts of our garments. Let us 
 invoke it of the Spirit, kneeling before the cross, and looking 
 up from beside the broken sepulchre through the new and 
 living way to the throne of grace. Then, should our prayer 
 be heard, shall we be like him in his best excellence, who 
 best followed Christ in the difficult ministry to which we are 
 called. 
 
 Beloved brethren, it is most pleasing to us, who are now 
 bearing the heat and burden of the day, and feel the pressure 
 of a demand for labor in the cause of God far greater than 
 our numbers can supply, that we meet so many ardent and 
 well-taught aspirants to our sacred office. But, when we 
 consider the vast responsibilities you are about to assume, 
 and the innumerable perils you must encounter, we rejoice 
 with trembling." How precious is the salvation of the soul, 
 the welfare of the church, the honor of the truth, the glory 
 of Christ ! The results of our stewardship are eternal, the 
 eternal bliss or the eternal wo of many immortal spirits. 
 From the throne of God our commission is derived, at His 
 judgment seat our account must be rendered. How holily 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 275 
 
 should we be set apart to such an office ! How entire should 
 be our consecration ! How wicked is it to tolerate in ourselves, 
 any personal aims, any careless ease when the name of Christ 
 is so blasphemed among men, and millions are perishing for 
 lack of knowledge ! How profane to allow a thirst for the 
 world's applause, or reputation of learning, to corrupt our 
 motives and degrade our efforts ! How much is yet to be 
 done before the command of Jesus, to preach the gospel to 
 every creature, is fulfilled ! How short the time in which we 
 have to work ! How few the laborers ! Brethren, we are 
 not our own. We belong to God, to the church, to the world. 
 We are twice dedicated, as Christians and as ministers of Jesus. 
 If we be faithless, we are Iscariots, betraying our Master for 
 some paltry price. If we keep back any portion of our time, our 
 talents or our energy, we are like the curse-stricken Ananias, 
 liars unto the Holy Ghost. Is there one among you, who is 
 not ready to cast all out of his heart for the glory of God and 
 the good of souls, who yet looks forward to any ease, to mere 
 literary pleasure or intellectual distinction, and would make 
 the ministry subservient to such gratification ? Let me intreat 
 him to pause, before he jeopards the safety of his own soul, 
 and the souls of undying men. He is not fit for the kingdom 
 of God. His hand is on the plough, but he is looking back. 
 He brings strange fire to the altar of the most High. Pause, 
 my unhappy friend, though all your studious preparation be 
 complete, though the Presbytery be waiting to lay their hands 
 upon your head, though the congregation be assembled to hear 
 you preach, though your foot be even upon the steps of the 
 pulpit. You are not ready to be a herald of the cross. Your 
 
276 ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 
 
 VOWS are blasphemy. Your sacrifices are profane. Your 
 ministry is an imposture. Go to the feet of your dishonored 
 Lord. Entreat him to cast out the devils from your heart, to 
 purify it by fires of his Spirit, and to fill it with his love. 
 
 Yet how cautious should we be who preach the truth of 
 God, that we keep it pure, that we make it plain, that, if pos- 
 sible, we present it attractive, persuasive, powerful ! What 
 need of study, of learning, of well-chosen words, of appropriate 
 manner, of various rhetoric ! As Galen says : " an unskilful 
 sculptor spoils only a block of marble, but an unskilful phy- 
 sician spoils a man ;" so we may say with equal truth, an un- 
 skilful preacher ruins immortal souls. We must contend in 
 men's bosoms with that arch-deceiver the human heart. We 
 must meet error in its Protean shapes, and the Evil One in 
 his most subtle disguises as an angel of light. We must ap- 
 proach the carnal mind in all its multiform dispositions and 
 circumstances. Alas ! how difficult thus to study, thus to aim 
 and to exercise ourselves without bringing in hopes of personal 
 success, and allowing the craving of personal pride ! How 
 busy is the Tempter at our elbow when we write, to make us 
 forget or postpone the preacher for the scholar, the ambassa- 
 dor of Christ for the human orator ! How busy when we are 
 preaching to insinuate that the tears of penitence, and the 
 reviving zeal of Christians, are proofs of our skill and trophies 
 of our eloquence ! How does he wait for us when we descend 
 to breathe flatteries of our talent, yes, even of our spiritual fer- 
 vor ! Who shall guide us between this Scylla and Charyb- 
 dis, " nee dextrorsum nee sinistrorsum ?" 
 
 Brethren, our only sure guide is the High Priest of our 
 
ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 277 
 
 profession. Our only safety is in a continual "looking unto 
 Jesus." Let us look to Him in the manger, in his baptism, 
 his temptation, his agony and his cross. Study his lowly de- 
 meanor, his constant activity, his gentle meekness, his unshaken 
 confidence, his divine courage. Behold him upon his throne, 
 his mightiness to save, the glory of his reward, his beckon ing 
 hand holding forth the palm and the crown of the faithful unto 
 death! We have a true teacher, an omnipotent support, a 
 present divinity in that Holy Spirit, who baptized the humani- 
 ty of Jesus, and strengthened his flesh and blood and human 
 soul, for the susception and endurance of its mighty burden. 
 That Holy Ghost is promised unto all that seek his grace, and 
 may be ours. He, and He alone, can so surround us in the 
 study, the pulpit, and our daily walk, as to ward far from us 
 each thing of sin and guilt. Only live and move in Him, and 
 by faithful invocation obtain his Presence to live and move 
 within you, and your fidelity, your usefulness and reward are 
 sure. " Commit your way unto God. He will bring it to 
 pass." 
 
 Rely not upon the world. It flatters for its own ends. The 
 popularity it can give is evanescent, and those whom it applauds 
 to-day, it will, when tired of its plaything, ridicule, scourge, 
 and lie against to-morrow. If God makes you popular, re- 
 ceive the dispensation humbly as giving opportunities of use- 
 fulness ; but remember it is a fearful gift, a most perilous ele- 
 vation, exciting envy, presenting you a prey for base and 
 carping spirits to hawk at, liable at any moment to a painful 
 reverse, and worst of all, except you be most wakefully on 
 your guard, sapping your spiritual life, and infusing thi'ough 
 
 24 
 
278 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 all your best thoughts and duties a detestable self-idolatry. If 
 your lot be more humble, it will be more quiet, and need not 
 be unuseful. Murmur not against it, but living for the best 
 improvement of the influence you have, await your elevation 
 as a faithful servant on that day, when the inequalities of time 
 shall be more than compensated by the retributions of eter- 
 nity. 
 
 Rely not upon the church. It is composed of converted 
 sinners imperfectly sanctified, and you will find in it all the 
 passions that agitate the world, though modified and restrained 
 a degree. Expect not gratitude, no, not even justice. When 
 most disinterestedly you contend against prevailing errors in 
 doctrine and practice, or warn against encroaching dangers, 
 you must not be surprised to find your enemies, your slander- 
 ers, your persecutors, even among the household of God ; yes, 
 and when the delusion is past, and time has justified your 
 fears and your warnings, the stains of that unjust dishonor 
 will remain upon your ministerial character, while your de- 
 votion to the cause of truth is forgotten. 
 
 Rely not even upon those whom you have been the happy 
 instrument of converting from death unto life, and of building 
 up on the most holy faith. Well must you love them, and 
 sweet must be the delight taken in their dear company ; yet 
 never be un watchful even against them ; never allow your 
 hearts so to lean upon them that your trust cannot be recalled, 
 and you stand without their support. Not a few of these 
 venerable men who surround us, will assent when I say, that 
 the shafts which have drunk our heart's peace with the most 
 venomed bitterness, have been aimed and urged by those 
 
ELOQUENCE OP THE PULPIT. 279 
 
 whose spiritual infancy we have nursed and watched over 
 with the most yearning affection. 
 
 Trust none but God. Live supremely for Christ. Rely 
 only upon the Holy Ghost, and look for your reward above 
 earth and beyond time. If God bless you on the way, thank 
 him and enjoy the grace ; but let not even blessing delay your 
 onward speed to heaven, or seduce your contemplation from 
 the joy which is eternal. 
 
 Beloved Master, when we behold thee leaving the throne 
 of heaven for the manger of thy human infancy, the sorrows 
 of thy life, the bitterness of thy passion ; when we think of 
 thy patience with the contradiction of sinners against thyself, 
 and thy long suffering of the lukewarmness of thy people ; 
 when we read of the stupendous economy and riches of thy 
 grace ; we wonder at the vastness of the sacrifice, and the 
 infiniteness of the condescension : but, when we behold thee 
 on thy throne, thy victories all complete, thy people all brought 
 home, thy church perfect in thine image, and hear the swell- 
 ing chorus of praise that resounds through the eternal years 
 of God, we know that the purchase was worthy of its price, 
 the reward of the sorrow that earned it, and the joy of the 
 death from which it was born immortal. 
 
 Brethren, companions in tribulation and in the kingdom and 
 patience of Jesus Christ, baptized with our Master's baptism, 
 partakers of his cup, and followers of his ministry, what are 
 all the labors we can endure, the trials we must encounter, the 
 sacrifices we are called to make, compared with a fellowship 
 in that glory, and joy, and reward ! I cannot speak of the 
 glory of the ascended church when it "shall shine as the 
 
280 ELOQUENCE OF THE PULPIT. 
 
 brightness of the firmament," or of the ascended ministers of 
 Jesus when they shall shine " like stars " in that firmament 
 *' forever and ever." It is not given to man to know, nor to 
 the tongue of man to describe the riches God has prepared 
 for them that love him. But God grant that this we know 
 not now, we all may know by sweet experience hereafter, and 
 that all this Christian company, meeting around the throne of 
 the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb, may behold his face 
 in righteousness. Then shall we be " satisfied with his like- 
 ness," " for we shall see him as he is." 
 
THE DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEW. 
 
 AN ORATION 
 
 BBFOEE THE 
 
 LITERARY SOCIETIES OF DICKINSON COLLEGE, 
 
 CARLISLE, PA. 
 
 JULY, 1843. 
 
 (published at their request.) 
 
 24* 
 
ORATION. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 There is a story told somewhere, of one who came back, 
 after a long absence, to the scenes of his youth. He had 
 gone forth in early adventure to distant lands, and the hope of 
 return had cheered his many years of foreign toil, until the 
 noon of life found him drawing near once more to the only 
 spot he ever could call home. His heart beat more and more 
 quickly as the mountains around the village rose in the blue 
 distance ; then, as he saw the spire of the church, or the well- 
 remembered trees grown old but still green ; and then, as he 
 entered the cheerful street. Many a dweUing was familiar, 
 though touched by time ; but among the groups about their 
 thresholds, and those who met him on the walk, there was not 
 a face that he knew or that knew him. He passed on through 
 the abodes of the living to the resting-place of the dead ; and 
 there he found graven on stones, many of the names that were 
 written on his soul. All whom he had hoped to meet again, 
 were gone, or were buried, or had forgotten him. He was 
 alone, a stranger in his early home. He paused to look around 
 him- There stood the venerable edifice within which his 
 
284 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 young mind had been trained to learning. There was the 
 green where he had leaped and shouted with his fellows. 
 There flowed the little stream from the shaded spring, which 
 had so often slaked his summer thirst. He followed to it the 
 path deep-beaten in the sod. He stooped and took one long 
 cool draught ; his tears fell on the calm water's face ; he lifted 
 his hat from his head, breathed a prayer, and departed to re- 
 turn no more. 
 
 With some such emotions does your orator address you 
 now. A score of years has passed since he left, for the 
 urgencies of mature hfe, these academic shades, dear from a 
 thousand memories of happy youth. They were then popu- 
 lous with his friends, and their classic exercitations were di- 
 rected by th,e kind and paternal solicitude of teachers to whose 
 skill and fidelity gratitude can never make sufficient payment. 
 He has trodden the college halls again to-day, and has seen 
 within them many happy faces blooming with youth ; but those 
 whom he once loved to greet in frank regard, are all gone. 
 §ome are in the grave : the rest widely scattered through a 
 cold world, never to know again the buoyant happiness and 
 careless wealth of affection that blessed them and him. But 
 thanks be to God ! the fountain of truth at which they drank, 
 s^ll wells forth its living waters ; the path to it is still deep- 
 beaten by youthful feet ; and I have come to take one draught 
 from it with you ; to send up a prayer for you to the Father 
 of lights, who causes it to flow — and to go my way ! 
 
 It i& not possible for me, however, to look upon so many 
 W^l-taught young men, soon to esnter the busy ways of life, 
 and sure to accomplish much good or evU, without sincere 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 285 
 
 anxiety, and a wish to impart such friendly counsel as a little 
 experience and some study enables me to give. Your kind- 
 ness in asking from me a discourse at a time so important to 
 you, and so interesting to us all, warrants me in choosing a 
 grave and pregnant theme : 
 
 THE DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 Frown not, my young friends, at the mention of that sober 
 word, duty. It might be more pleasing perhaps, and afford 
 more opportunities of oratorical flourish, to dwell upon the 
 pleasures of intellectual pursuits, or to assert the doctrine (so 
 little understood) that virtue is its own reward, and thus allure 
 you to honorable usefulness by the promise of wages soon and 
 easily won. Yet that w^ould be to invert the order of morals, 
 to deceive you with vain hopes, and to repeat the false phi- 
 losophy of the Garden, so beautiful in the dreams of its first 
 teacher, content with his dinner of herbs, but so fruitful of 
 excesses in his followers, who made the name of Epicurus, 
 against whose life only slander has spoken, a sanction for 
 selfish sloth and voluptuous crime. Pursue virtvie only for its 
 pleasures, and you will soon forget the means in impatience 
 to grasp the end. Your virtue will be but a counterfeit ; for 
 it will want the motive, the dignity, and the courage of the 
 true.* Its difficulties, its privations, its sufferings, and its 
 
 * Quisque maxime ad suum commodam refert qusecumque agit, ita 
 minime est vir bonus ; qui virtutem prffimio metiuntur, nullam virtutem 
 
 nisi malitiam putent Injustissimum ipsum est, justitise mercedem 
 
 quserere. Cicero de Legibus, 1 . I8. 
 
286 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 wrongs will soon disgust so feeble a spirit with righteousness. 
 "We are indeed told by the unerring wisdom that " her ways 
 are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are paths of 
 peace ;" but the pleasantness must descend from on high, and 
 the peace dwell in the heart of the pilgrim. 
 
 " He that hath light within his own clear breast 
 
 May sit i' the centre and enjoy pure day." 
 If virtue gather pleasures, they have grown not in the soil 
 of earth. None but God can give them, and rarely does he 
 bestow more than an earnest here. The world will applaud 
 its flatterers, its betrayers, its tyrants, who serve its pride and 
 its sins, like the Olympian demagogue of Athens who cor- 
 rupted to weakness that he might rule the republic. Men 
 build the sepulchres of prophets long since martyred for truth, 
 but drive out to banishment the reproving example of living 
 integrity, and stone at the very shrine the honest augur who 
 announces omens of ruin from the sinister course of their 
 ill-governed desires or from the sacrifices they make to their 
 crimes. The Just Man of Plato, though wholly just, was 
 accused of all injustice, and continuing steadfastly just while 
 condemned as unjust, had his eyes put out, was scourged, spat 
 upon, and crucified. The more sure word of God confirms 
 the philosophical anticipation. The entrance upon virtue is 
 difficult ; it is a " strait gate." The progress of virtue is pain- 
 ful ; it is a " narrow way." Its crown of life is certain, but it 
 awaits only the " faithful unto death." He who walked that 
 way as the Forerunner for us, and secured for us that crown, 
 was despised and rejected of men ; and after him the multi- 
 tude shouted with execrations, " Crucify ! crucify !" " Not 
 
DITTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 287 
 
 this man, but a robber !" until be bowed his God-stricken 
 head upon the tree, once infamous and accursed, but now 
 made illustrious by a constancy to truth which neither agony 
 could shake nor darkness hide, and by " the glory which fol- 
 lowed." None can hope to reach that glory, who have not 
 courage to dare that cross. 
 
 The first instinct of hfe is a clinging dependence upon the 
 parental bosom for support and nourishment. The first thought 
 of virtue is dependence upon God, its sole author and strength. 
 Until we feel strongly our duty to God first and paramount, 
 there is no moral life in the soul. Until we propose his ap- 
 proval as our supreme aim, there is no strength in our virtue. 
 Until we establish the perfect authority of his law in our 
 hearts, we have no guide for our feet. Only from duty to 
 the one Creator can flow our duties to our brotherhood of his 
 children, for our duty is all his ; and reason's best effort is to 
 learn from faith what " He would have us to do," whose wis- 
 dom has arranged and alone can comprehend the vast and 
 complicated economy of human interests. Life, our faculties, 
 our affections, our all belong to God, and from Him cometh 
 down the noblest gift next to pardoning, sanctifying grace, 
 wisdom ! From his goodness we derive the arts of life, the 
 aggregated experience of history, the multiplying resources of 
 science, the insurgent force and anticipating faith of genius, 
 and the enduring nerve of zeal. These gifts of his love are 
 not for ourselves only. He has linked us to mankind by com- 
 mon sympathies and interests ; by language and mutual de- 
 pendence. To Him we can return nothing. He needs not 
 us nor ours. But as in the physical world he is pleased to 
 
288 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 employ for our learning an economy of second causes, so 
 is he pleased for our good, if we will receive it, to employ us 
 as moral agents in the working out of his moral designs. To 
 man we must give the due we owe to God. In living for 
 man we live for God. God works in us, and with us, and by 
 us. Yet we live for ourselves again ; because they who serve 
 God in serving man, shall find a reward worthy of such a 
 master. He who scattered over infinite space, by his creating 
 hand, the worlds like golden seed, that from them as a mighty 
 reaper he might gather eternal harvests of glory, will leave 
 no scanty gleaning for the humblest spirit that sows his little 
 field in godlike hope to share his Maker's joy. Therefore it 
 is that I speak to you, who, in these rich opportunities of 
 learning, have been entrusted with precious truth and the 
 skill to communicate it, of the duties of educated men, duties 
 which you owe to God, and can discharge only in doing good 
 to the world. 
 
 The first which suggests itself, is, Perseverance in intellectual 
 pursuits. 
 
 It would be absurd to suppose that by an educated man is 
 meant one who has attained the acme of human knowledge ; 
 nor will the ridiculous notion that your education is complete 
 on the day when you are graduated or enter upon public life, 
 obtain in your minds. Knowledge is infinite as God, and he 
 has set no limits to the immortal soul. Science is enlarging 
 her boundaries in an ever multiplying ratio, and the adept 
 twenty years ago would be but a smatterer now. To remain 
 stationary in knowledge is to become ignorant. Our early 
 studies, at the best, give us nothing more than the mere ele- 
 
I>UTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 289 
 
 ments of truth, the rules of acquiring it, a taste for enjoying 
 it, discipline of our powers, and some skill in the use of books or 
 in the observation of phenomena. In them we only learn how 
 to study. The universe of knowledge lies before us. The pur- 
 pose of our education is defeated, and its value vilely cast away^ 
 except we carry out these advantages in following life. What- 
 ever be the future occupation of your life, whether in the profes- 
 sions called learned, or other engagements not less honorable 
 or necessary for the service of society, remember that at the cost 
 of long and expensive training you now belong to the rank of 
 educated men, gifted with intellectual taste and power. If 
 you would not become disgraced recreants from your order, 
 carry with you wherever you go, in all possible circumstances, 
 a love and zeal for enlarging knowledge. Let no day pass 
 without exercising your acquired skill and enhancing your 
 mental worth, for by not putting out at usury the talent en- 
 trusted to your agency you will merit the infamy of the wick- 
 ed and slothful servant, slothful because wicked, and wicked 
 because slothful. 
 
 Do not think this impracticable, or that study, in the true 
 sense of the word is not consistent with active business. Such 
 an opinion is the growth of indolence or dulness. Those who 
 have done most for all branches of science have been, with 
 exceptions not frequent, men who wrested from necessary toil 
 time for its generous and ennobling service, and that often 
 when their daily pursuits were in opposite directions to the 
 walks in which they became distinguished. No man con- 
 scious of mind and immortality, should suffer himself to be in 
 such bondage to sordid cares, as to have no time for the exercise 
 
 25 
 
290 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEW. 
 
 of his better powers and the culture of his higher life. Sure- 
 ly, it were not worth our while to live, if all our years be 
 exhausted in answering the questions, " What shall we eat ? 
 what shall we drink ? and wherewithal shall we be clothed ?" 
 The intervals usually denominated leisure, are those in which 
 our proper life should be found ; and, therefore, ought to be 
 sedulously sought, guarded and employed. No man who has 
 a proper strength of will to practise economy of his minutes, 
 need be denied so pure and profitable a luxury ! The early 
 morning, before Mammon is awake ; the calm midnight, when 
 the bustle of the world is hushed ; the various pauses of business 
 necessarily occurring — so often wasted in excessive sleep, in 
 lounging ease or idle gossip — afford even to the most burthened 
 precious opportunities for reading, observation, and thought. 
 You may have read of a zealous scholar who finding himself 
 daily called to his food some little time before it was ready, 
 improved the moments which must otherwise have been lost, 
 in preparing three huge quartos for the press. A learned 
 friend of my own,* whose elaborate works have won for him 
 genuine and exalted fame in both hemispheres, and who, while 
 skilled as a general scholar is a most voluminous writer as well 
 as an indefatigable and eminently successful teacher of his 
 peculiar science, has often assured me that he was never so 
 busy, but he could find time for something more ; to the truth 
 of which assertion those who know the delight of his instruc- 
 tive and ever cheerful society can bear witness. 
 
 Every one needs some relaxation or amusement, and ex- 
 perience has found that the best relief for the mind is not 
 idleness, but change of occupation. Let your relaxation be 
 * Dr. Dunglinson, of Philadelphia. 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 291 
 
 intellectual engagements, and your amusement the entertain- 
 ing developments of truth. Though perhaps wearisome at 
 first, such a habit of study will soon become a second and 
 higher nature. You will find no refreshment like communion 
 with graceful or exalted minds, and instead of a toil to be 
 feared, you will welcome release from other toil, that you may 
 turn to the conversation of philosophy, a friend ever ready, 
 and ever faithful. He who has this habit is never alone, and 
 never without a pleasure. If he walk abroad, the heavenly 
 bodies as they wheel along their orbits, the winds and the 
 storm-clouds, whose laws once seemed inscrutable, the count- 
 less tribes of living things, with their varied anatomy and 
 habits and uses, the plants of the field and the trees of the 
 wood, the rocks, the very soil on which he treads, all speak to 
 him a language he understands, and give him lessons of profit 
 and delight. If he sit at home, the volume before him with 
 better than magic power uplifts him from the dull earth in the 
 truthful dreams of the poet, bears him back to past ages, ac- 
 quaints him with the experience of man individual and social, 
 reveals to him in an hour secrets which others toiled years to 
 discover, makes him a companion of the best minds when act- 
 ing best ; the best minds in their best actings ; or, if he close his 
 senses for quiet meditation, he has within a world of pleasant 
 and exalted thought. Nor let it be said that these pursuits 
 unfit a man for his ordinary occupation. This can be true 
 only so far as his ordinary accupation is unfit for him. They 
 do indeed refine and elevate, and so may disgust him with the 
 mere lucre of gain and the petty objects of common ambition ; 
 but for this very reason they should be cherished. You will 
 
292 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 need all their influence to keep you from sordidness, selfishness, 
 and Avorldliness, from becoming the slave of dollars and cents, 
 of truckling expediency, of popular prejudice, or worse, of 
 sense and appetite. 
 
 The present life was not given to be exhausted upon its 
 own necessities, but to advance us towards a better, the eternal 
 sphere of knowledge, love and divine service. You were not 
 made immortal, nor have you been thus carefully educated, to 
 labor in one dull round like a slave at the wheel or a convict 
 on the tread-mill. It is your privilege and your duty to re- 
 deem from the impediments of daily business some moments 
 of mental freedom, which is true life. Such breathings of a 
 purer air will not make you worse men of business, but make 
 you better men, conscious of a higher being, of purer aims and 
 more generous thought. Can it be that business is necessax'i- 
 ly so degraded as to forbid its leisure to literature and science, 
 nay to religion itself, which refines and elevates most of all ? 
 What better then is it than the hewing of wood or the draw- 
 ing of water, than the work of the ox or the ass ? What 
 need of mind and education for this? But it is not so. 
 A thousand examples too familiar for citation show that the 
 best men of business have not unfrequently been those whose 
 capacities were most enlarged by mental culture. Such men 
 may sometimes fail, but with no injustice to their creditors 
 they remain rich. If Roscoe from no fault of his own became 
 a bankrupt merchant, the historian of the Medici lives immor- 
 tal in fame ; and who that ever felt a ray of light upon his 
 brain but would prefer the authorship of the Pleasures of 
 Memory to all the wealth of Rogers the banker ? If ignorant 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 293 
 
 men by fortuitous successes or parsimonious grasping attain 
 remarkable wealth, their success has but the disgraceful effect 
 of making their ignorance and covetousness the more remark- 
 able. The needy sycophant may flatter them, the unfortunate 
 debtor ruined by their exactions, humble himself before them, 
 and their impatient heirs wait servilely for their death ; but 
 the poorest scholar is far more respectable than they who are 
 valued only by the money in their chest. It is I know a 
 popular prejudice that theory is useless to a practical man, but 
 what department of human labor is there that science has not 
 lightened and made more profitable, or may not extend yet 
 more ? So that even in a man's particular walk of business, 
 he may find knowledge of truth only to be gained by study, 
 his best adviser and assistant. Is the merchant less likely to 
 be skilful in trade because he understands its laws, and is able 
 to anticipate those causes of supply and demand which come 
 from beyond the vision of the common observer ? How much 
 ruin might have been averted from our commerce by the 
 practice of a few rules of political economy, in the face of 
 which our legislators and our community, lured by the most 
 extravagant speculation, rushed upon their own destruction ? 
 Is a farmer less likely to apply his labor successfully, because 
 he can analyze his composts and adjust by the rules of true 
 science his means of increase ? or the manufacturer from his 
 knowledge of improved mechanism, and the chemistry of dyes? 
 A physician who is not a man of continually growing science 
 is a quack, and no man can grow in science without some 
 literature. The jurist is unworthy to practise his noble pro- 
 fession, the interpretation and defence of right, if he be not 
 25* 
 
294 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 thoroughly conversant with the history and heart of man, 
 deeply read in models of logical eloquence, and raised above 
 all hireling motive by a generous sense of his own high calling. 
 The preacher, and to the sacred office I am told that not a few 
 of you aspire, perhaps more than all others needs the widest 
 range of knowledge and cultivation of mind, in a day when 
 the records of past ages, the developments of every science, 
 and the most abstruse metaphysics, are ransacked by the op- 
 ponents of revelation and the advocates of false Christianity. 
 He owes it to himself, his hearers, and his God that he should 
 be prepared against all error, for truth when fairly set forth 
 is never antagonistic to religion. It has been the fashion with 
 some to pronounce zeal and piety independent of mental culti- 
 vation for the success of those efforts which can prosper only 
 by the blessing of God. But God himself works not without 
 means. Nor should it be forgotten, that though he chose illite- 
 rate men for apostles, he qualified them at the Pentecost with 
 various learning before he sent them forth into the world ; 
 nay, that the very chiefest of them all, who was most success- 
 ful in baffling the philosopher and the sophist as well as in 
 teaching the simple and the slave, was one trained in all the 
 arts of the schools. One must read most superficially those 
 epistles which have fed the church of all ages with divine 
 truth, not to see that the Holy Ghost employed the varied 
 learning and logical discipline of Paul, as well as his mighty 
 mind and gigantic heart. It is true that the pulpit is no place 
 for the parade of learning, and none so abuse it except the 
 pedant and the pretender. But it requires no small learning 
 to be correct, not a little study to be simple, and great com- 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 295 
 
 mand of language to be plain. It is, with rare exceptions, 
 your uneducated or half-educated men that confound their 
 audience with great swelling polysyllables of vanity, imperfect 
 definitions which are fruitful of error, and thoughts good per- 
 haps in themselves, but with as Httle arrangement as chaos. 
 The thoroughly educated preacher alone is lucid, simple and 
 intelligible, because his words are well chosen, his scheme 
 preconceived, and his logic exact. Little do the people know 
 how much the dialectics of the Stagyrite, the vehement direct- 
 ness of Demosthenes, the sonorous cadences of Tully, yes, 
 even the graceful expressions of the lyric and the epic, have 
 contributed to their edification in the house of God. Little 
 do they know what years of patient study were spent over the 
 yellow pages of classic lore, to make the sermon so plain that 
 the child bears it home and fancies he could have preached it 
 himself It is said of Cecil, (I think,) that in his later years 
 he separated all his classics from his library and burned them. 
 Had he burned them at twenty, we should never have heard 
 of Cecil. He had drawn the honey from the hive and he 
 burned but the straw. Moses was trained for forty years in 
 all the learning of Egypt as well as kept forty years in the 
 desert, before he was set at the head of Israel. Luther and 
 Calvin and the other leading reformers were men of the most 
 profound erudition, and their immense volumes show that they 
 used their learning in the midst of their fatigues and perils, to 
 the last. John Wesley came a scholar armed from the uni- 
 versity, and in his most edifying discourses a scholar's eye can 
 see how well he used his early advantages. A cloak and some 
 books and some parchments were all the wealth for which the 
 
296 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 Apostle of the Gentiles seemed to care ; and unless you doubt 
 the inspiration of his advice to Timothy : " Give attention to 
 reading," you had better go without the cloak than the books 
 or the parchments. 
 
 Whatever be your future occupation, persevere in study. 
 Jf learning be not useful, why have you wasted time in these 
 halls ? If it be, its increase must be an increase of usefulness. 
 You are now only upon the threshold of knowledge. Refuse 
 to press forward, and you dishonorably abandon the advantage 
 you have gained. You will be the disgrace of scholarship, and 
 blots upon the list of educated men. 
 
 It is the duty of educated men to teach the people knowledge. 
 
 By the people, I mean the mass of society without respect 
 to rank or privileged classes, the social man. The time was 
 when knowledge like power was the birth-right of the few ; 
 when it was treasonable in the many to dare more than to toil 
 or fight at the command of masters ; when the Greek philoso- 
 pher, the Roman poet and the Jewish scribe were unanimous 
 in calling the common people accursed. Even at democratic 
 Athens, Socrates the best friend of man in all heathen anti- 
 quity, pronounced physical labor not compatible with mental 
 elevation. The politics of Plato, Aristotle and Tully, treat 
 the artizan and the slave with almost equal contempt. The 
 will of the people was never fairly acknowledged in any an- 
 cient commonwealth. With this neglect of the common mind 
 was joined neglect of the common heart, and the morals of the 
 people were as low as their knowledge. The idea of virtue 
 was hidden behind the veil of an esoteric philosophy. Even 
 immortality and the favor of heaven were appropriated as 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 29^7 
 
 exclusive privileges by the rich, the high-born and the learned. 
 Hence throughout the classic ages you see the masses left un- 
 disturbed, nay, encouraged in all the degrading impurities of 
 a polytheism which the philosopher secretly ridiculed, and 
 considered beyond the hope of moral elevation by those who 
 exulted to discover the divine in themselves and aspired to a 
 resumption within the embrace of the one good and original 
 source of all spirit. It was Christianity which first took away 
 ignominy from labor. Jesus, who came from God and who 
 was God, Jesus, who came to be the Redeemer of humanity 
 from all the disgraces of that fall which wrung sweat from the 
 brow of man, Jesus took his place among the despised multi- 
 tude, a child of poverty, in a family supported by daily toil. 
 Thus did He, who was called " the carpenter's son " demon- 
 strate that the highest dignity, the purest wisdom, the noblest 
 virtue, may dwell in the breast and adorn the life of the laborer 
 and the poor man. He proclaimed a kingdom not of this 
 world, where the petty distinctions invented by earthly pride 
 are unknown, a kingdom of knowledge, of generous love, of 
 equal truth and godlike righteousness. He poured unuttera- 
 ble contempt upon pomp, and pretensions, and exclusiveness, 
 when, without a home, his companions some fishermen from 
 the sea-side of Galilee and a publican, despite of bigot threats, 
 he turned from denouncing the tyrant, the pharisee and the 
 pedantic scribe, to teach the multitude in the streets, on the 
 shore, and the mountain. At the voice of his Gospel, the 
 burden-bearer, the slave, and the outcast looked up and hoped. 
 They felt themselves no longer forgotten, but conscious of im- 
 mortality and the divine regard, aspired to sonsliip with God 
 
298 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 and an inheritance of immortal light. Well was it said of 
 him : " Never man spake like this man ! " How poor are all 
 the ethics of the schools and the codes of nations beside his 
 simple rule, to love God supremely and our neighbor as our- 
 selves ! How clear is his demonstration against all prejudices 
 of rank, or fortune, or party, when he pronounces every man 
 our neighbor who needs our help ! I would not turn your 
 thoughts away from the religious import of his teachings, for 
 social morality is the genuine fruit of evangelical faith, but I 
 will say that he, who cannot read in the teachings of Jesus 
 and the divine example that confirmed them, the equality of 
 human rights, and the duty of every man to do his fellow man 
 good, not as a master, neither as a slave, but as a brother 
 loving and desirous of being loved, has not yet known Christ 
 as he ought to know him. Whence came that sublime theory 
 of our constitution (would to God it were more fully carried 
 into practice ! ) " that all men are created equal ? " Not from 
 the misnomered republics of antiquity, not from any tome of 
 heathen learning, not fi'om the boasted system of half-enfran- 
 chised Britain, from which, notwithstanding common opinion, 
 we have taken far less than from the popular institutions of 
 the Netherlands. It was found by the fathers of the confed- 
 eracy nowhere else than in the New Testament of Jesus 
 Christ. Jesus the deliverer first proclaimed man free, and 
 the full import of civil freedom was never undei'Stood until the 
 foundation of our goverament was laid in the will of the whole 
 people. 
 
 Let then the authority of heaven and the highest authority 
 we acknowledge on earth, inspire us with a profound love to 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 299 
 
 man as man. Let us regard man in whatever station we find 
 him as our brother, as more than our brother, as one for whom 
 Christ died, whom God is not ashamed to call his son, and to 
 offer the riches of an eternal glory. Let us consider no dig- 
 nity so great as that of serving him whom the Father of honor 
 and virtue has made the recipient of those offices which grati- 
 tude for divine kindness should prompt, and whose faculties of 
 thought, range of affection, capacities for happiness or misery, 
 and extent of influence are so immeasurably vast. No human 
 engagement approaches so near the perfect work of Him who 
 was God with man, as his, who labors to teach the multitude 
 truth and goodness, and who cares less for the applause of the 
 proud or the approbation of the learned, than for the privilege 
 of uplifting, by a power more stupendous than that the Syra- 
 cusan longed for, some soul, fallen low through ignorance and 
 sin, to the dignity of knowledge and virtue ; nor can there be 
 motive sufficient for persevei'ance in a work so difficult, except 
 from such sympathy as our Elder Brother felt for fallen man. 
 My friends. He who placed bread in the hands of his disci- 
 ples, and multiplied the few loaves of a lad's wallet into plenty 
 for a multitude of thousands, has committed to you the gift of 
 knowledge, whose quality is to multiply in the hands of all 
 who dispense it, the more it is imparted. Like the light of 
 the sun which shines not the less when he makes the stars of 
 the firmament to radiate brightness, is the light of truth which 
 has shone upon your minds, that you may be centres of radi- 
 ating knowledge to many more. 
 
 Without such a determination to teach the people, you will 
 be unfaithful to your dignity as citizens of a free democracy. 
 
800 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 There are those among us, and not unfrequently of that class 
 whose education should have lifted them above such moral 
 cowardice, who doubt the sufficiency of our republican institu- 
 tions, and express sickly fears of our nation's great experi- 
 ment, nay, even long after a stronger, by which they mean a 
 more aristocratic, government. Intent upon the real evils 
 that appertain to our system, (not peculiar to it, but arising 
 from the general imperfection of every thing human,) and 
 looking from a distance at the royal governments of the old 
 world, where the few maintain their wealth and luxurious 
 ease by the bayonet that drives back the many, they are ready 
 to pronounce the theory false, that a nation may, under God, 
 govern themselves. Shame upon them for asserting that 
 there can be no permanent order among men except that of 
 paving stones beaten down and fixed in the earth, over which 
 rank and riches may roll in triumphant mastery ! Shame 
 upon them, for permitting the few failures and difficulties 
 which must be expected to lie in the way of every scheme 
 for man's advancement, to deaden their sensibility to the ele- 
 vating hope, dictated by religion, and cherished by philan- 
 thropy, that man may be free and rise in moral dignity 
 according as he is free ! Shame upon them for base treason- 
 able ingratitude to those laws which maintain for them and 
 their children rights never before possessed by a people on 
 earth ! Shame upon them for their degeneracy from that 
 unequalled ancestry who pledged life, fortune and sacred honor 
 to the support of principles they doubt, and of privileges they 
 would abandon ! Shame upon them, I say, and God forbid 
 that any of you should ever be found among their nar- 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. ^^t 
 
 row-minded faction, or take up their puling fears into your 
 lips! 
 
 But at the same time that we would cherish strong reliance 
 upon the excellence of our institutions, we must always re- 
 member that the essential strength of a republic is a commu- 
 nity of interests and an interchange of benefits. No one class 
 of our people or section of our country could be safely en- 
 trusted with the government of the rest because of prejudices 
 which would inevitably arise. The advantage of our system 
 is, that while it promotes a reciprocity of good offices, preju- 
 dices neutralize prejudices in the alembic of the general will, 
 and the amalgam produced by the fusion together of various 
 opinions and policies, is far better than could be expected from 
 any other method. Each individual therefore is bound by 
 the nature of our government to contribute as much as he can 
 for the general good with which his own is identified, and 
 whenever any one refuses thus to do his part, the action of 
 the whole must be necessarily impaired. But it has been too 
 often proved, to need argument now, that the best means of 
 republican prosperity are knowledge and virtue. It is your 
 high office as educated men to contribute both. You go forth 
 among the people accredited as students of truth, with the 
 consciousness of possessing it, and the skill to impart it. 
 
 The people look for such service at the hands of educated 
 men. They are willing to receive it from you, if it be ren- 
 dered, not in a spirit of haughty dictation, nor at a cold dis- 
 tance, but with a generous sympathy and a courteous respect. 
 See that you are not unfaithful to your high calling, and that 
 you do not dishonorably withhold from your country, the vast 
 
 26 
 
302 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 blessings Providence has fitted you to bestow, and which are 
 vital to its welfare. Never dare, as some educated drones 
 among us have dared, to censure the people's errors and de- 
 spair of their integrity, while you hold yourselves aloof from 
 them, or refuse any effort to show them the right. If our 
 national experiments fail, it must be because our countrymen 
 will have been unfaithful to themselves. See to it that you 
 be not among the traitors, for the citizen, who has knowledge 
 and neglects to impart it, is guilty of the worst treason. The 
 ignorant and brutal wretch who joins the mob in outrage and 
 violence against the laws, is not so criminal as they who might 
 have turned his early feet to the paths of intelligent virtue, 
 but did not. You must not think to despise the people and to 
 be secure from their ruin. They are the foundation, and 
 when that fails, wo to the polished pillar and the carved cor- 
 nice ! The ruin will be universal and indiscriminate. 
 
 I need not describe in detail the various methods by which 
 in this age of advancement you may impart knowledge. They 
 are and always will be sufficiently obvious to a willing mind. 
 Ever be found the advocates of education. Testify, by the 
 pains you take to spread it, your sense of the treasure you 
 have yourselves received. Seize every fitting opportunity to 
 impart it by your pen, your lips and your influence. Shrink 
 from the burdens and responsibilities of no ofiice that may 
 enlarge your ability to do this good. Be the open and fearless 
 champions of all legislation in aid of science and art and lit- 
 erature. Stand faithfully by those public men, who may meet 
 with popular prejudice because of their efforts in behalf of a 
 policy so wise. But especially devote your untiring energies 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 303 
 
 to the improvement and increase of Common Schools. The 
 Athenian pointed to the splendid Acropolis with exulting 
 pride, because he believed that there in the matchless Parthe- 
 non, whose pure Pentelican and exquisite proportions are still 
 beyond the dreams of architectural genius, was enshrined the 
 Palladium of his country, the symbol of heavenly knowledge ; 
 but were I asked to declare the preserving charm of our be- 
 loved country, I would lead the inquirer not to the Capitoline 
 height where legislators but express the popular opinion, nor 
 even to the halls of more erudite science which can at best be 
 trodden by few, but to the common school-house. There the 
 minds that rule the land are fashioned. There, under God, 
 the destinies of the nation are determined. I have more fear 
 and more hope from the troops of sturdy youth that ply their 
 tasks within, or their sports without its humble threshold, than 
 from all the mincing fops of fashion, or the mere rich that 
 emulate at a ridiculous distance the pride and the airs of for- 
 eign aristocracy. If you would serve your country well, if 
 you would guard the suffrages of our free people from the 
 arts of the demagogue, and nerve their hearts against the 
 swindling encroachments of those who would buy themselves 
 into power with the very money of the state, let the common, 
 school system be your most earnest care ; and especially the 
 country common schools, for whatever be the noise and pre- 
 tension of our cities, and however necessary it may be that 
 the youth within them be trained, it is the country, the hardy 
 yeomanry, who eat the bread of their own honest sweat, that 
 rule, ever have ruled and will rule the state. 
 
 Popular education needs greatly your watchfulness and 
 
304 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 support, because the system we have is far from perfect in its 
 theory, and is with yet greater difficulty carried out to prac- 
 tice from the Boeotian prejudices it meets with among the 
 people themselves. It is with much pains and patience that 
 we can find sufficient consent upon their part to affi)rd a ful- 
 crum for the moral lever, and the greatest obstacle of all is 
 their unwillingness to affijrd competent teachers sufficient 
 wages. The boor that vociferates over his team is better paid 
 than the moral and intellectual guide of fifty country children. 
 The failures of incompetent teachers multiply and perpetuate 
 misapprehensions of the value of education. Knowledge 
 never can flourish until the profession of the teacher be held 
 in high regard. Let it be your aim to lead the way in such 
 enlightened homage. Spare no pains, spare no expense with- 
 in your ability to establish good and sufficient teachers in your 
 own neighborhoods. Show by every token of unfeigned re- 
 spect and hospitable attention your regard for their office as 
 of the best dignity and worthy the best rewards, that men of 
 superior minds may be won to dedicate their lives to a work, 
 which they now pursue, if they undertake it at all, with a 
 restless impatience of its unjust obscurity and meagre re- 
 turns. 
 
 Cherish again I say the common schools. Polygnotus, after 
 he had painted their heroes in the fresco of the Pcecile, lived, 
 by a decree of the Amphictyonic council, the guest of all 
 Greece ! The Romans filled their atria and their public pla- 
 ces with the statues of their illustrious ancestors. But lar 
 more worthy of a nation's gratitude is he, who imprints upon 
 the fresh minds of the young lessons that shall make them 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 305 
 
 living examples of patriotic virtue. Far richer illustrations 
 of the nation's glory shall those minds he which have been 
 early moulded into moral beauty and animated by fire from 
 heaven, brought down, not by sacrilegious theft, but prayer. 
 
 I speak in no disparagement of the Fine Arts. They have 
 their high moral uses. Would that they were more cherished 
 among us ! But there is no art so godlike as the education of 
 young minds in truth. It is the nearest approach man can 
 make to creating power. 
 
 It is the duty of educated men to maintain a freedom from 
 prejudices. 
 
 Prejudices are opinions held without sufficient reason. A 
 prejudice is not always in favor of error, but without due ex- 
 amination we can never know error from truth. All preju- 
 dices therefore should meet with your unsparing condemna- 
 tion. Narrow or uncultivated minds are inevitably subject to 
 prejudice, because they are called to judge and act with refer- 
 ence to matters of which they cannot have sufficient know- 
 ledge ; and thus it is that we see such numbers of enthusiastic 
 adherents to the most absurd theories, moral, political, and 
 religious. It would be the extreme of harshness to condemn 
 every follower of false doctrines, as wilfully and knowingly a 
 deceiver. The greater part verily believe that they are in 
 the service of truth. It is their honesty that makes them so 
 zealous and mischievous. But God has bestowed upon us 
 mind that we may be guided by truth alone, and by truth 
 alone should we allow ourselves to be convinced, else our 
 reason sinks below the surer instincts of the brute. Even 
 Christian faith is but a higher reason, drawing her legitimate 
 26* 
 
306 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 condusions from that which she knows upon sufficient data to 
 be the testimony of the Father of truth. Tou have been 
 thus carefuUv educated that you might be able to examine 
 facts and make correct induction from them. It will then be 
 a monstrous abuse of your cultivated strength, if you devote 
 it to any service but that of truth, or if you fail to carry on a 
 constant and unsparing war against prejudice of every kind. 
 In the contest waging between darkness and light there can 
 be no neutrality. " He that is not with me is against me, and 
 he that gathereth not with me scattereth abroad," is the de- 
 claration of the Great Teacher of truth. " Ye shall know 
 tfae truth," said he again, " and the truth shall make you free." 
 While, however, education is meant to free us from prejudice, 
 it by no means follows that the cultivated mind is entirely 
 CBMUidpated, until education be carried to that highest pitch 
 which is only known in the spiritual sphere of perfect light 
 Tliere are prejudices arising from defects in education itself; 
 prejudices that lie deep in our corrupt nature, growing with 
 oar growth ; prejudices whose seeds have been sown in our 
 early childhood ; prejudices derived from the associates or 
 guardians of our youthful days, out of the respect and venera- 
 tion we have for those, whom we have been accustomed to 
 r^ard as authority and example ; prejudices from a false no- 
 tion of self-interest, pride of consistency, or attachment to sect, 
 party or country. 
 
 I would be far fix)m asserting that great deference is not 
 due especially from the young, to superiors in age or in wis- 
 dom, and readily condemn the plausible, but hurtful notion ; 
 that the youthful mind should receive nothing as true which 
 
DiniES OF EDirCATSD MOt, §07 
 
 it has not of itself discovered to be true. It is &e order of 
 Providence that we should be mentallv, as wdl as ^bpaeaSfy, 
 dependent, until we have reached a proper Bt atarity. The 
 first lesson of true education is not to think for oaiselves, boi 
 to learn how to think, how to use oar mental instruraenis^ and 
 when we have acquired such skill, and not imdl fcben, are we 
 to suppose our apprenticeship complete- Neither iradd I ^Big 
 a mature mind loose to act for itself as though mind faadnerar 
 preceded it, and all the knowledge that has come down to us 
 with the signatures of the wise and good in past agea^ ataiBr 
 ed, as it were, through the scrutinj of long tane, irere to be 
 treated as doubtfuL It is not prejudice bot leaBOOf whoA 
 hesitates to reject such established priaei|^es,. nntH tbey bane 
 been most severely and elaborately e^tamiiied. SatBOtwi&- 
 standing these admissions, vou should laj k dovm as and^ Aat 
 prejudice, as such, is to be rooted out and guarded »^imsk as 
 fer as possible by educated men. Truth never kses by ex- 
 amination. That which shm^ tbe I^ift is error, tmify eisai^ 
 and that continually. 
 
 Thus, some pious but weak p^soos^ bam; bad fans AaiAe 
 advancing light of science is adverse to rR^JMay aad tbai tbe 
 skepticism, which unhappily sometiDa^ ebaracteriies men of 
 science who are too intent upon nature to biok i^ to natMW ?^ 
 Grod, is a proper occasion of doubt whetha* siniBntifii' stafies 
 be favorable to iuith. That science;, like eveij v&er ^& of 
 God may be perverted by irreHgious hearts to san, no one em 
 deny. Tbe sun itself gives light for the oonmassiaB of i^ 
 numenible crimes ; and yet lar nuure and worse apreeoBunilted 
 mider cover oi darkness. So skqplidaaa and fiatgetfidness <if 
 
308 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 the true Grod and all the sad results of such moral destitution 
 abound far more in abodes of ignorance than in those of learn- 
 ing. It cannot be that infidelity is a legitimate effect of science. 
 The Author of nature is the Author of the Bible, and if to 
 our minds they ever seem to be in opposition, it must be be- 
 cause we read one or the other, perhaps both, wrong. " A 
 little philosophy," said the writer of the Novum Organum, 
 " inclineth a man's mind to atheism, (just as people who know 
 but very little are apt to be very presumptuous upon that 
 little,) but depth in philosophy bringeth a man's mind about 
 to religion." Newton, and Bacon, and Locke, to whom we 
 are principally indebted for the revival of science, were devout 
 advocates of revelation ; while Cuvier, and Whewell, and 
 Buckland and Babbage may be fearlessly cited to show, that 
 in the pure and elevated atmosphere of their science, the mir- 
 ror of nature reflects more distinctly the image of God. Be- 
 tween the periods of the former and latter classes of names, 
 the attempts of Hobbes and Shaftsbury, and Monboddo, of 
 Voltaire, Helvetius, Hume and a host of infidels minorum 
 gentium, to destroy religion by false facts from almost every 
 branch of science, have met with radical defeat. The chro- 
 nology of the Chinese and the fabulous pretensions of the Hin- 
 dus were invoked with only brief exultation. The material- 
 ism of the last generation is now driven before the ideal 
 philosophy, itself full of error, but destined, as we trust, when 
 it has done its work, to subside into the media via of truth. 
 The records of the Pyramids have given forth their hierogly- 
 phic testimony to the sacred record. Astronomy with her 
 eclipses tells of the glory of the God of grace ; and when the 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 309 
 
 geologist has penetrated to the lowest stratum of our globe, 
 he is made to re-echo the exclamation of the man of God : 
 " Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundations of 
 the earth." Well may we use the strong language of your 
 justly honored President* (who, let us trust, wiU soon be re- 
 stored to you, his rich mind yet more adorned with the treas- 
 ures he has been collecting from foreign fields, his warm 
 patriotism yet more confirmed by observation of regal and 
 aristocratic tyranny, and his pious soul glowing from his pil- 
 grimage in that land, 
 
 " Over whose acres walked those blessed feet 
 Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nail'd 
 For our advantage on the bitter cross"— 
 
 to assume with yet more distinguished success his responsibile 
 position ;) " Religion and literature, (in which he includes 
 scientific treatises) are mutual helpmates to the knowledge, 
 love and glory of God." 
 
 Be it then your care, my educated friends, to vindicate the 
 moral honor of science from the ignorant prejudices of even 
 pious men. Follow, fearlessly follow truth in nature, as an 
 angel sent to lead you to a walk with God. The mighty chain 
 of cause and effect has been let down upon earth, that we may 
 trace its links upward to the supreme height where it is rivet- 
 ed in the throne of the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb. 
 Remember that the same iron hand, which crushed Galileo 
 because he dared to teach truth in science, locked up the 
 
 * The Rev. Dr. Durbin, then abroad. 
 
310 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 Word of Life from the poor, and asserted its terrific rule by 
 the dungeon, the thumb-screw, the rack and the flame. 
 
 I have selected this unfounded fear of science as a strong 
 instance of the power which prejudice has to make a good 
 man opposed to a good thing. We have no time for further 
 examples. 
 
 It may, however, be asserted in brief, that higoiry in all its 
 forms is a manifestation of prejudice. 
 
 Bigotry has been defined to be a blind zeal in favor of par- 
 ticular opinions accompanied, as it always is, by a denuncia- 
 tory spirit against all who differ from us. Unhesitating con- 
 demnation of those who cannot think as we think, is a clear 
 evidence that our belief is founded on prejudice, for we show 
 ourselves unwilling to allow their impartial investigation. 
 From the imperfection of the human mind and the wide varie- 
 ty of our tempers and circumstances, there must be differences 
 of opinion among men ; and it is through the war of opinions 
 that truth is discovered and established. Justice should grant 
 every man the same right to think for himself that we claim 
 for ourselves ; and a fair charity should suppose him to be as 
 honest in his creed as we are in our own. We may believe 
 him to be in error, his errors hurtful, and his arguments so- 
 phistical or unfair, yet, from his peculiar bias, he may not see 
 the danger or the sophism, and the proper method of meeting 
 the mischief we apprehend, is open, manly, courteous argu- 
 ment. That much immediate evil may result from free dis- 
 cussion, is true ; so there may from the electric storm which 
 clears the atmosphere ; but far greater evil would occur, as 
 history proves, from the prohibition of it. The arbitrary 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 311 
 
 power which at first ordains truth, may soon decree falsehood, 
 and the confessor of truth be burned in the flame kindled for 
 the heretic. We suffer keenly if we be denounced for our 
 opinions ; and the Gospel rule should deter us from inflicting 
 upon others what we would deprecate for ourselves. 
 
 This is the spirit of the Master in religion. If ever He 
 loses his characteristic gentleness in the sternness of condem- 
 nation, it is against those who uncharitably condemn others. 
 An arrogation of infallibility is Anti-Christ, whether it wear 
 the Papal scarlet, the prelatical lawn, the Genevan cloak, the 
 Quaker drab, or the plain coat of the Methodist. It is pre- 
 posterous not to admit that honest difierences of opinion may 
 exist. As John Wesley says: "How soon was unanimity lost 
 and differences sprung up in the church of Christ, and that 
 not in nominal but in real Christians, nay, in the very chief 
 of them, the apostles themselves ! Nor does it appear that 
 the differences which then began were ever entirely removed. 
 It is, therefore, no way surprising that infinite varieties of 
 opinion should now be found in the Christian church." And 
 that great and good man, who is now rejoicing in the perfect 
 light where no shadow is known, lays down the rule (God 
 give us grace to follow it!) that when we see one doing good, 
 casting out devils in the name of Christ, we should acknowl- 
 edge, love, assist, and pray for him, though in other things he 
 follow not us. Consider, my friends, that but for open argu- 
 ment the Jewish Sanhedrim and the Gentile tyrant had 
 crushed Christianity in its birth ; the false systems of heathen- 
 ism had never been overthrown, nor the glorious Reformation 
 ever dissipated the foul darkness of the middle ages. I know 
 
312 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 that controversy often rages like a conflagration, but though it 
 may consume the "wood, hay, and stubble," which human 
 wisdom has heaped upon the truth, the precious foundation is 
 safe and indestructible. 
 
 Like every other prejudice, religious bigotry prevails mostly 
 among the weak and illiterate, though they are too often led 
 away by men who know better and do worse. Those who 
 have argued away their own doubts, should know how to sym- 
 pathize with minds struggling against error. 
 
 Be it, therefore, your aim as educated men, to set a high 
 example of religious charity, whatever may be the creed you 
 see fit to adopt. Though your zeal may blaze against error, 
 let it be toward the errorist as the genial flame of love which 
 warms not hurts, cherishes but not devours. Account what- 
 ever divides the hearts of Christians, Christ's followers, certain 
 heresy. It is most impudent forgery to write " Catholic " 
 upon the architrave of a system, which excludes from the 
 grace of God all who wear not our bonds. Little can be said 
 of their intelligence, who can assign no reason for preferring 
 their own sect; but he who considers not the name of Christian 
 as higher than sect, is not worthy to bear it. 
 
 It is not only among religionists that bigotry is found. Po- 
 litical prejudice produces the same denunciatory and malignant 
 spirit. What vile words and reproachful accusations are 
 bandied between contending parties ? Neither the sanctities 
 of social life, domestic peace, nor jDersonal character are safe 
 from the recklessness of party rage. Such rancor is a painful 
 contrast with the true nature of our institutions. Our fathers 
 wrested these states from foreign domination in the firm con- 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 313 
 
 viction that they had the right and ability to govern them- 
 selves. The prohibition of primary popular assemblies, in 
 which the public welfare might be freely discussed, and public 
 measures fearlessly pronounced upon, was justly considered 
 by them most dangerous tyranny ; and their great care seema 
 to have been to make political opinion free, and to protect us 
 in the exercise of this right purchased at such cost of sacrifice^ 
 suffering and blood. For what end were we delivered from 
 royal tyranny, if our brethren are to enchain our opinion, or 
 we theirs ? or if a citizen, for declaring his honest belief, be 
 subject to pains and penalties, which sensitive mind feels as 
 severely as though they were enacted by law? In what man- 
 ner is the popular will, the legitimate sovereign of the land, tO' 
 be known, if we be hampered and threatened and persecuted 
 for the expression of our own ? The man who could so muzzle 
 the voice of his fellow citizen is himself in heart a despot. Nay,. 
 in such case it might well be doubted whether one master were 
 not better than many. 
 
 Besides, our government is emphatically one of experiments 
 There has never been one like it on the earth, and few precise 
 precedents can be cited for its rule. Not a few fair hypotheses 
 have been by the test of practice proved to be false. Not a few 
 have been originated and been established as true. Not a few 
 remain yet to be decided upon in the progress of events. As 
 is the case with every practical inquiry, there must be failui'es, 
 mistakes, and costly disappointments. How very important, 
 therefore, that there be a thorough, fearless searching of every 
 public question ? and that all possible light be thrown upon rt 
 by the reasoning of every mind ? Instead of denouncing those 
 27 
 
314 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 who differ from us in their notions of what is safe, beneficial 
 or expedient, we should thank them for adding their scrutiny 
 to our own of all that concerns our beloved country. He, 
 who has the foresight and the courage to lift a warning voice 
 against dangers hidden in some specious measure, seducing 
 the hearts of the people with the promise of rapid prosperity ; 
 or, who can penetrate through the veil which present circum- 
 stances throw over them to the few simple laws impressed by 
 the Almighty hand upon civil economy, and present them to 
 the light as axioms no expediency should disregard or oppose, 
 deserves more than a warrior's crown. He lives for his 
 country, which is even more happy and honorable than to die 
 for it. Alas! what mischiefs have fallen upon us through the 
 drowning by popular clamor of some such prophet-like warn- 
 ings ! Is it wise, is it brave, is it patriotic to shut our eyes 
 and ears to what may be truth, before we have heard its rea- 
 sons, or pondered its arguments ? Though danger may have 
 been sometimes prophesied falsely, is it prudence to withdraw 
 the sentinel from the gate ? Shall we forbid the alarm in a 
 love of false security ? Then may the fate of the Laconians 
 on the Italian shore be ours. 
 
 "Arayclas, cum tacerent. perdidit silontium."* 
 
 Are we to make no advances in the science of government, 
 
 when every other science is striding onward ? Did reform 
 
 reach its acme before our fathers died ? Shall we reject every 
 
 novel doctrine as necessarily error ? Shall we fling away 
 
 *Cat: Pervig: Yen: 92. 
 
DUTIES OP EDUCATED MEN. 315 
 
 that common sense for which our countrymen are remarkable 
 over Europeans, especially those arrogant Islanders, who are 
 ever under the prejudices of long usage, and cannot think of 
 a nation without crown, lords and commons, nor imagine a 
 judge without a wig, nor dream of Christianity without tithes, 
 nor dare to replace a beam in their rotten fabric lest the whole 
 mass topple down upon their heads ? No, our fathers left us 
 free. Free let us live ! When the right of discussion falls 
 beneath the poisoned steel of factious tyranny, let us fold our 
 faces in our mantles and die with it; for then will all our liber- 
 ties be the prey of the gambler, the gladiator, and the usurer. 
 Then, Good-night to republicanism! The last ray of political 
 hope will have ceased to shine. 
 
 Be it your care, my educated friends, not only to rise above 
 such ignoble prejudice, but to rebuke and destroy it. I do 
 not say, unite yourselves w^ith no party. By mere individual, 
 isolated action, you will waste your strength. It is Quix- 
 otism to ride forth a single knight, and think to carry all by 
 your own lance. It is folly, and worse than folly, to refuse 
 a union to carry gi^eat public measures with those who differ 
 from us in minor particulars. Learn cheerfully to compro- 
 mise in the less, that you may attain the greater. Neither 
 confine your regards for your country's welfare to what is 
 bounded by its shore. Study deeply the history of past com- 
 monwealths. Mark the rocks upon which the republics of 
 Greece and Italy and the Netherlands have struck. Search 
 out the elements of their greatness. Make yourselves thor- 
 oughly acquainted with Political Economy, which, despite the 
 abuse that has been heaped upon it, as mere theory, cold, 
 
316 DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 
 
 abstract, and uncertain, aims next to Christianity itself for the 
 happiness of mankind. Lay fast hold of the laws God himself 
 has given to the commerce and products of nations, and which 
 like his other laws, can never be violated without a consequence 
 of penalty. Then, stand forth as freemen, as patriots, as men 
 of science and truth, and demonstrate the interests of the people 
 to the American mind and heart. This is your oflBce, let it be 
 your glory and reward! 
 
 My friends, there were many advices more I would have 
 wished in the earnestness of my friendship to give you. But 
 the courteous attention with which you have listened to me 
 must not be abused. Very pleasant has it been to me thus to 
 linger beside the pure waters, and beneath the shades of our 
 Alma Mater. 
 
 Mater, longe ante alios mitissima! 
 
 Other and not less pleasant duties are waiting for us ; and 
 then we must part. The time of rest is not yet. Now we 
 must sow the seed. The harvest is in eternity. Our country, 
 the world, the cause of truth, and the religion of our God are 
 calling for us. Bend your young shoulders to the honorable 
 burdens, for His sake, who bore the cross for us. Remember 
 you carry with you the credit of science, the reputation of your 
 teachers, the name of your Alma Mater. Act worthy of the 
 trust. Above all, remember that you are not your own. You 
 belong to God. You can only prevail by His strength. You 
 are responsible at his judgment seat. After all your studies 
 « the fear of the Lord that is wisdom, and to depart from evil 
 
DUTIES OF EDUCATED MEN. 317 
 
 that is understanding." Make His word your guide, His grace 
 your confidence, His approbation your aim. Do tour duty, 
 
 AT ALL TIMES, IN ALL PLACES, AND TO ALL MEN. 
 
 Trials you must have. Severe disappointments will often 
 try your courage. Injustice and ingratitude often venomously 
 sting in your hearts. But hold on your way, and you shall 
 have within you, a wealth of noble thoughts, memories of noble 
 actions, hopes of a noble felicity. So dear to you will the 
 path of duty become from faithful habit, that when old age shall 
 gently wither your strength, (and may God grant that you may 
 live long as you are useful !) you will be found tottering on to 
 honor and immortality.* You shall go down toward your grave 
 calmly, and without a fear. Your names shall be written in 
 heaven and cherished on earth. There will be tears for your 
 death when your spirits are with God. 
 
 * TO Tov TToSbg fj,ev (ipadv, to tov 6e vov Taxv. Eur. luv. 755. 
 
 27* 
 
TRUTH THE STRENGTH OF FREEDOM. 
 
 A DISCOURSE 
 
 ON 
 
 THE DUTY OF A PATRIOT, 
 
 iOMB AILUSIONS TO THE LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 OF 
 
 ANDREW JACKSON. 
 
 Frorouncxd Jult 6, 1845. 
 
 (published bt bequest.) 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 PSALM 78 : 5, 6, 7. 
 For he established a testimony in jacob, and appointed a law 
 in israel, avhich he commanded ouk fathkrs that thet 
 should make them known to their children; that the 
 generation to come might know them, even the children 
 which should be born, who should arise and declare them 
 to their children, that thet might set their hope in god, and 
 not forget the works of god, but keep hjs commandments. 
 
 Among our many national sins, there is none more likely 
 to provoke divine chastisement, yet less considered or repent- 
 ed of, even by Christians, than ingratitude for political bless- 
 ings. That there are evils among us, no one will deny ; that 
 changes might be made for the better, it were unreasonable to 
 doubt ; and, concerning methods of removing evil or working 
 good, we may differ widely yet honestly. Evil is inseparable 
 from human nature, the best human schemes are capable of 
 improvement, and human opinions must be various, because 
 they are fallible. It is a narrow, unthankful spirit, which, 
 brooding over imperfections, or sighing after greater advanta- 
 ges, or bitterly condemning all who think not the same way, 
 refuses to perceive and acknowledge the vast benefits we 
 
322 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 I actually enjoy. Never was there a revolution at once so just 
 and so successful as that which won our country's independ- 
 ence ; never, except in the Bible, have the rights of man 
 been so clearly and truly defined as in our constitution ; never 
 did greater success attend a social experiment than has fol- 
 lowed ours. Since the establishment of our confederacy, 
 tumults, rebellions, and violent changes, have been busy in all 
 the civilized world besides. Throne after throne has fallen, 
 and dynasties have been built up on the bloody ruins of dy- 
 nasties. In some nations, the people have wrung, by force, 
 partial concessions from hereditary rule ; in others, after con- 
 vulsive, misdirected efforts, they have been crushed again by 
 the iron hoof of despotism ; nor is the voice of a prophet 
 needed to foretell a long, desperate struggle of uprising hu- 
 manity with the powers of political darkness ; while the bloody 
 discords and cons'tant confusion of other republics on the same 
 continent with ourselves, demonstrate the incompatibility of 
 freedom with ignorance and superstition. There are few 
 monarchical governments in Christendom as old as ours. The 
 increase of our population from less than three millions to 
 twenty, in seventy years, multiplies many times any former 
 example ; yet, notwithstanding the enormous migration to us 
 from various countries, where free principles are unknown, 
 our wide land has more than enough room for all : growth in 
 numbers has been a chief cause of our growth in wealth, and 
 our laws, strong as they are liberal, have proved themselves 
 sufl&cient to compose, maintain and rule all in concord, pros- 
 I perity and power. You will search in vain for another ex- 
 ( ample of a vast nation governed, without troops or armed 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 323 
 
 police, by their own will. It is not five years since, that our 
 people, spread out over an immense territory, after a contest 
 in which the utmost enthusiasm excited both parties, changed 
 their rulers. Yet not a bayonet was fixed, nor a cannon 
 pointed, nor a barricade raised, to guard the place of suffrage. 
 The ballot, falling noiselessly as snow upon the rock, achieved 
 
 Ithe result. Within the last twelvemonth, the stupendous pro- 
 cess has been repeated as peaceably and safely. Each of the 
 great political sects, which divide the popular vote, has tri- 
 umphed and been beaten. Much there has been to censure 
 in the harsh recrimination and unfraternal bigotry on either 
 side; but when the decision was reached, though the long- 
 rolling swells which succeed the storm did not at once subside, 
 and here and there some violent partisan may have betrayed 
 his vexation, the surface became calm, and the noise soon died 
 ' away. Every true patriot, submissive to the oracle of the 
 polls, whether wisdom or error, said in bis heart, God bless 
 THE people ! 
 
 i Our difficulties, real or supposed, have arisen out of our 
 r advantages, for good and evil are mixed with all human af- 
 fairs. The freedom of those institutions, under Avhich we 
 live, has its price, which must be paid, so long as man is prone 
 to abuse, by impatience and excess, those favors of Almighty 
 {God, which yield happiness only when they are used moder- 
 I lately and religiously. Elated by prosperity, we have forced 
 I Jour growth too fast. We have attempted, by plausible inven- 
 ytions, to transcend the laws of trade and production. We 
 j Shave complicated the machinery of our interests, until our 
 I Iclear, simple constitution lias become, und(T the hands of so- 
 
M 
 
 324 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 phisticating politicians, a riddle of mysteries. The limits of 
 habitation have been enlarged beyond the blessings of church 
 and school-house. Vices and faults, peculiar to new settle- 
 iments, have reached the heart of our legislation. To carry 
 iOn our far-grasping schemes, we have strained our credit till 
 i lit broke. Freedom of speech and of the press, has been 
 ,bused to licentiousness by prejudice, rashness, and selfish 
 mbition. Acknowledging as we do the rights of conscience 
 i/in their broadest meaning, even the holy name of religion has 
 been dragged upon the arena of party. 
 
 Our republic is not a paradise ; our countrymen, like our- 
 selves, are not angels, but frail, erring men. Our history has 
 been an experiment. Mistakes have been made and will be 
 made. It is thus that we are to learn. Shall we, in coward 
 skepticism, overlook our immense advantages to hang our fears 
 upon a few faults, or prognosticate the failure of a system 
 which has accomplished so much, because it shares with others 
 the imperfections of humanity ? Is there a sober-minded 
 man among us, who would be willing to encounter the op- 
 pressions of what are called strong governments, that he might 
 [escape from under our present system? Our faults are our 
 jown, and our misfortunes are consequences of our faults ; but 
 lour political advantages are God's rich gifts, which it becomes 
 jus thankfully to receive and piously to improve. All our 
 j evils have their legitimate remedies, and there is no dan- 
 ger which may not be avoided by a wise care. Instead, 
 therefore, of querulous fears and ungrateful discontent, 
 i the Christian patriot should zealously ask what he can 
 jdo to secure and advance the best welfare of our be- 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 325 
 
 loved land. Our holy text is full of instruction to this 
 end. 
 
 The Psalmist is describing the policy of God with Israel, 
 the people whom he wished to know no king but himself, and 
 therefore, the only safe policy for any people, who would pre- 
 serve their liberties from the encroachments of despotic 
 rule. 
 
 " He established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law 
 in Israel, which he commanded our fathers that they should 
 make them known to their children ; that the generation to 
 come might know them, even the children which should be 
 born ; who should arise and declare them to their children,. 
 that they might set their hopes in Grod, and not forget the 
 works of God, but keep his commandments." 
 
 We see here, 
 
 First : The character op a safe and happy people. 
 
 " They set their hopes in God ; they forget not the works 
 of God ; they keep his commandments." 
 
 Secondly: The means which God has appointed 
 for cultivating this character. 
 
 " He established a law in Jacob, and appointed a testimony 
 in Israel." 
 
 Thirdly : The obligation upon a Christian patriot 
 arising from this providence of Jehovah. 
 
 " He commanded our fathers that they should make 
 them known to their children ; that the generation to come 
 might know them, even the children which should be 
 born ; who should arise and declare them to their chil- 
 dren." 
 
 2S 
 
326 duty of a pateiot. 
 
 First: The character op a safe and happy peo- 
 ple. 
 
 They " set their hopes in God." The man who looks to 
 God as the source of his welfare, is lifted above temptation 
 within and without. Conscious of a holy, heart-searching 
 eye upon him, his virtue will not be an outward semblance, 
 cloaking from human sight, secret crime, or selfish purposes. 
 The opinions, fashions, or rewards of the world, will neither 
 shape his principles nor modify his practice. He will fear to 
 do evil, lest he should offend against God. He will do justice 
 and love mercy, because he walks humbly with God. 
 
 His expectations of eternity will guard and sustain him in 
 honesty. He knows himself to be immortal and God eternal ; 
 that vice, which no human scrutiny can detect and no human 
 laws punish, will meet with a terrible vengeance, while good 
 acts and good purposes will be rewarded openly by Him, who 
 seeth in secret, at the judgment day. The pains of virtue 
 and the pleasures of vice, being alike transitory, are of little 
 account in his estimation, who sets his " hope in God," his 
 Saviour, and his Judge. He relies upon God, because He is 
 merciful, and knows that he is safe, because God is Almighty. 
 
 Were our nation composed of such believers, how untroubled 
 would be our peace ! how entire our mutual confidence ! how 
 free our affairs from intrigue, corruption, and wrong ! The 
 key would never be turned in the lock, the gibbet seen no 
 more, and the prison door stand open. No man would fear, 
 but every man would love his neighbor, and the true interests 
 of all be acknowledged by each as his own. 
 
 They " forget not the works of God." When God is the 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 327 
 
 treasury of a man's hopes, he loves to trace the workings of 
 God's wisdom and power, that he may know the sources upon 
 which he can di'aw. He considers creation, and in its mi- 
 nuteness as well as its vastness, he reads certain proof of the 
 same Power, which made, ruling so perfectly, that nothing is 
 overlooked, and so absolutely, that nothing is beyond his pre- 
 siding will. He considers redemption, that God so loved the 
 world as to give his only begotten Son as the deliverer of all 
 who believe upon his name, and that all power is in the hands 
 of our Elder Brother, the incarnate God. Therefore is he 
 sure, that God rules in mercy as well as justice, that he will 
 listen to the pi'ayer of his people, and that, however mysteri- 
 ous his methods, all things are working together by the Holy 
 Spirit for the universal triumph of truth, and righteousness, 
 and peace. 
 
 With such convictions, how cheering to him must be the 
 study of Providence ! "With what confidence, remembering 
 the faithfulness of God in the past, will he confide in him 
 amidst the difiiculties of the present, and for the developments 
 of the future ! and how steadfastly reject for himself and for 
 his country, any policy which crosses the unchangeable laws 
 of God, the ever-living Lord ! 
 
 How strong would this nation be in hope and virtue, did 
 our people thus remember the works of God ! for never, since 
 the world began, has the providence of God been more re- 
 markable, kind, and instructive, than towards us. Jehovah 
 did not lead Israel forth from Egypt to the conquest of Ca- 
 naan with a more mighty hand or manifest care, than has 
 been seen in our history since the first prayer of the pilgrim 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 from the tyranny of the old world to this better country, rose 
 through its virgin forests, until our present day of unexampled 
 prosperity. 
 
 They " keep his commandments." The believer's obedi- 
 ence to the directions of God is the necessary result of such 
 trust and study. Gratitude will make him loyal to a sovereign 
 so kind and faithful : a sense of his own weakness and short- 
 sightedness will incline him to follow landmarks so certain, 
 and the approbation of an honest conscience reward and en- 
 courage him to persevere. 
 
 " Happy is the people that are in such a case ! Yea, happy 
 is that people whose God is the Lord ! " 
 
 Secondly: The means which God has appointed 
 
 FOR cultivating SUCH A CHARACTER. 
 
 " He established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law 
 in Israel ;" or, as an admirable critic translates it, " He estab- 
 lished an oracle in Jacob, and deposited a revelation with 
 Israel." 
 
 The Psalmist, doubtless, here refers not only to the law 
 given on the Mount, in which God defined human duties and 
 prescribed religious worship, but to all the communications 
 which he had made or might yet make to man. 
 
 The value of the word of God is seen in the fact, that it is 
 the word of God. What almighty mercy and wisdom saw fit 
 to reveal, must be of the last importance. We are sure of 
 nothing, but that which God has made known. Never could 
 we have discovered his will concerning us, or known how to 
 walk in safety, had He not said, " This is the way." Never 
 could we have been assured of a Providence over us, or looked 
 
DUTY OF A PATKIOT. 329 
 
 within the tremendous realities of eternity, had not he mani- 
 fested himself by his own declarations, and brought immor- 
 tality to light by Jesus Christ, the man whom he has ordained 
 as Saviour and Judge. Without the word of God, we should 
 be without God, ignorant, hopeless, lost in perplexity, the sport 
 of conjecture, of passion, appetite, and dread. Truth would 
 have no definition, oaths no confirmation, laws no sanction, 
 and the grave no promise ; the past would teach us nothing 
 but our ruin, and the future would be black with despair. 
 When we have that Word, how glorious is the reverse to the 
 pious believer ! We stand by the side of God when he laid 
 the foundation of the earth, and we look beyond the catastrophe 
 of created things to the fixed results of justice and love. We 
 trace back our lineage to a brotherhood with every human 
 soul ; and we learn the will of our common Father concerning 
 the relations which bind us to him and his family on earth. 
 We see the path of righteousness marked for our feet, and 
 One walking by our side " whose form is like to that of the 
 Son of God," sustaining our weakness and assuring our faith- 
 ful obedience of eternal reward, after the shadows and the 
 labors of time shall have passed away and ceased forever. 
 Nay, in the rest of the Sabbath, the worship of the sanctua- 
 ry, the communion of saints, and the witnessing sacraments, 
 we have the foretaste, sign and confirmation of an eternal 
 rest, love and satisfaction in the house of God, eternal and 
 undefiled. 
 
 Need I ask you to consider the blessedness, here and here- 
 after, of a nation who know and obey that word, and who 
 cultivate and delight in that worship ! Where is the suicidal, 
 28* 
 
^30 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 traitor hand, that would dare pluck this comer-stone from the 
 foundation of our hopes, and, extinguishing the light which 
 heaven has kindled, give our country back to the gloom, the 
 licentiousness and cruelties of those nations which have for- 
 gotten God! 
 
 Thirdly : The obligations upon the Christian pa- 
 triot ARISING FROM THIS PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 
 
 " He commanded our fathers to make them known to their 
 children ; that the generation to come might know them, even 
 the children which should be born, who should arise and de- 
 clare them unto their children." 
 
 The first duty laid upon us is, to study and practise the 
 word of God ourselves. It is by the light of Christian ex- 
 ample, that the saving power of the Gospel is made manifest 
 to the world. The believer of the word of God, therefore, 
 owes a profession and practice of Christianity not only to God, 
 to himself, and the church, but to his country, because its 
 welfare can be secured only by religion. 
 
 Therefore, should we, to the utmost of our means, give the 
 advantage of the same religion to those who neglect, or can- 
 not, of themselves, obtain the means of grace, especially in 
 the new settlements of that immense valley, the power of 
 which already overbalances the older States. Wherever a 
 fellow citizen is without the knowledge of God, there is an 
 element of danger minghng with the aggregate of the national 
 will. We can never control crime, nor refute error, but by 
 truth ; and in withholding the truth of God, we share in the 
 guilt all the mischief that may be done by those, to whom we 
 might teach the right, but do not. 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 331 
 
 But, especially, are we to strive that the Bible should be 
 in the hands, and, by the blessing of God upon our labors, in 
 the hearts of the rising generation. Upon their shoulders the 
 burthens of society, our country, and the cause of God, are 
 soon to rest. From them their children are to learn good or 
 evil. Neglect a child, and you have neglected the man, the 
 woman, the father, the mother, generations yet unborn. The 
 truth of God in our hands belongs to them, as much as to 
 ourselves. It is deposited with us for their benefit. By 
 omitting to give it, we rob them of God's best gift, and our 
 land, in future years, of its best defence and glory. The 
 means of education, so far as the arts of reading and writing 
 go, are not enough. Educate with all your energies. Do 
 nothing that may by any possibility hinder, and every thing 
 to enlarge such instruction ; but let us ever be ready to set 
 the Bible before the opened eye and the craving mind. Better 
 that a child should learn to read without the Bible, than know 
 not how to read the Bible. Thank God ! Christians need not 
 contend for debatable ground in this matter. With our Bible 
 and Tract, and Sunday School Societies, if we be only faithful 
 in supporting them, we are more than a match, by God's help, 
 for all the infidelity and superstition among us. We lose time 
 and waste our strength, by petty squabblings with evil on its 
 own dunghill. Let us rather devote all our power and zeal 
 to those ready and open methods of disseminating truth, which 
 no force in this land can prevent our using. When the true 
 church of God consecrates the talents she has from Him, to 
 the spread of the Gospel through our country, every wall, that 
 the enmity or idolatry of men can buUd against it, shall fall 
 
S32 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 like those of Jericho at the trumpeting of the Levites ; when 
 she walks forth, the light of her presence shall dissipate every 
 shadow, and "terrible as an army with banners," her peaceful 
 triumphs will crown our whole people with the glory of the 
 Lord, a joy and a defence. 
 
 Blessed be God, there are those who have felt the necessity 
 of these religious efforts for the good of our country, and the 
 immortal well-being of our countrymen ! They are, indeed, 
 but too few, and their zeal has not always been equal to their 
 opportunities and responsibility. Yet in them, their examples 
 of Christian conduct, their testimony to the power of religion, 
 and their benevolent labors for the illumination of the igno- 
 rant, we see the providence of God blessing our nation with 
 moral life, and confirming our government, founded upon the 
 will of the people, by the only suflScient buttresses, knowledge, 
 virtue, and the fear of God. The faithful Christian is the 
 only faithful patriot, and he is not a faithful Christian who 
 serves not his country in the name of Christ, and in the spirit 
 of his Gospel. 
 
 These thoughts, as you know, have been suggested by the 
 recent anniversary of our national independence, a day which 
 should be dear and sacred to us all, though often miserably 
 polluted by intemperance, and profaned by party assemblages. 
 Surely, we might devote one day of the year to the charities 
 of patriotic brotherhood, and lose all minor distinctions in our 
 common citizenship ; nor should we forget before the altar of 
 our fathers' God, the Author of all mercies, his mighty doings 
 for us in the past ; the good, the great, the wise, the valiant, 
 whom he has raised up to serve, guide, and defend us ; and 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 333 
 
 the blessing which he has caused to rest upon their counsels, 
 their arms, their zeal, and their sacrifices. Such recollections 
 are due to Him, to our country, and to humanity. Children 
 should hear the story, and the best genius contribute to its 
 illustration. Fresh laurels should be plucked and wreathed 
 upon the graves of the beloved for their country's sake, and 
 eloquence pay its richest tribute to their heaven-sent worth, 
 that the living may hear and follow their example. 
 
 While I thus speak, the spell of a great name comes upon 
 our hearts, compelling us to utter their thoughts and emotions. 
 When the sun of that morning rose, it gilded the fresh tomb 
 of one whose ear, for the first time since the 4th of July, 1776, 
 failed to vibrate with the thunderings of his country's birth- 
 day joy; and a voice, for the first time, answered not its 
 cheers, which, since its boyish shout was heard through the 
 revolutionary strife, had never been wanting in the annual 
 conclamation. The iron will, whose upright strength never 
 quivered amidst the lightning storms that crashed around it 
 in battle or controversy ; the adamantine judgment, against 
 which adverse opinions dashed themselves to break into scat- 
 tered foam ; the far-reaching faith, that flashed light upon 
 dangers hidden from the prudence of all beside ; the earnest 
 affection, that yearned in a child's simplicity, the purpose of a 
 sage, a parent's tenderness, and the humble fidelity of a sworn 
 servant, over the people who gave it rule and elevation, have 
 ceased from among us : Andrew Jackson is with God. He, 
 who confessed no authority on earth but the welfare of his 
 country and his own convictions of right ; who never turned 
 to rest while a duty remained to be done, and who never 
 
334 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 asked the support of any human arm in his hour of utmost 
 difl&culty; bowed his head meekly to the command of the 
 Highest, and walked calmly down into the grave, leaning 
 upon the strength of Jesus ; paused on the threshold of im- 
 mortality to forgive his enemies, to pray for our liberties, to 
 bless his weeping household, and to leave the testimony of 
 his trust in the Gospel of the Crucified ; and then, at the fall 
 of a Sabbath evening, entered the rest which is eternal. His 
 last enemy to be destroyed was death. Thanks be to God, 
 who gave him the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ ! 
 
 To say that he had faults, is to say that he was human ; the 
 errors of a mind so energetic, in a career so eventful, must 
 have been striking ; nor could a character be subjected to 
 criticism more merciless, than he provoked by a policy 
 original and unhesitating, at open war with long established 
 usages, and dogmas that had grown into unquestioned axioms. 
 Bereft early of parental guidance and restraint, educated in the 
 Camp and the forest bivouac, and forced to push his own for- 
 tunes through the rough trials of a border life, we can scarce- 
 ly wonder that, until age had schooled his spirit and tempered 
 his blood, he was impetuous, sensitive to insult, and prone to 
 use the strong hand. "Warm in his attachments, he was slow 
 to discover frailty in those he loved, or to accord confidence 
 where once he had doubted. Grasping, by his untutored ge- 
 nius, conclusions which other men reach by philosophical de- 
 tail, he made, while sure of just ends, some mistakes in his 
 methods, for the time disastrous. Called to act at a crisis, 
 when the good and evil in our national growth had become 
 vigorous enough for conflict, and wealth and labor, like the 
 
DUTY OF A PATBIOT. 335 
 
 twins of Rebecca, were struggling for the right of the elder 
 born, his decisions on great but sudden emergencies, were de- 
 nounced by that after criticism, which can look back to con- 
 demn, but is blind to lead. Compelled to resolve stupendous, 
 imprecedented questions of government and poUtical economy, 
 he roused the hostility of opposite schools in those difficult 
 sciences. Never shrinking from any responsibility, personal 
 or official, he sternly fulfilled his interpretations of duty as a 
 coordinate branch of the national legislature, leaving his course 
 to the verdict of his constituents : nor did he hesitate to avail 
 himself of all the means he could extract from the letter of the 
 constitution, to achieve, what he thought was the intent of its 
 spirit. His was a stern, prompt, and energetic surgery, and, 
 though the body politic writhed under the operation, none can 
 tell, though some may conjecture, the more fatal consequences 
 his severity averted. If he were wrong, public opinion has 
 since adopted the chief of his heresies, and there is no hand 
 strong enough or daring enough to lay one stone upon another 
 of that, which he threw down into ruins. But in all this, his 
 heart was with the people, his faith firm in the sufficiency of 
 free principles, and regardless alike of deprecating friends and 
 denouncing opponents, he held on throughout to one only pur- 
 pose, the permanent good of the whole, unchecked by particu- 
 lar privileges, and unfettered by artificial restrictions. To 
 use his own lofty language, " In vain did he bear upon his 
 person enduring memorials of that contest in which American 
 liberty was purchased ; ... in vain did he since peril proper- 
 ty, fame and life, in defence of the rights and privileges so 
 deai'ly bought, if any doubts can be entertained of the purity 
 
336 DUTY or A PATRIOT. 
 
 of his purposes and motives. . . . Nor could he have found an 
 inducement to commence a career of ambition, when gray hairs 
 and a decaying frame, instead of inviting to toil and b attle, 
 called him to contemplate other worlds, where conquerors 
 cease to be honored, and usurpers expiate their crimes." 
 
 But, though there are passages in his life, about which the 
 most honest have held, and may yet hold, contrary opinions, 
 there are services of his demanding the gratitude of all, and 
 virtues all must delight to honor. Can we forget that victory, 
 in which his ready strategy and consummate skill turned back, 
 by the valor of scarcely disciplined men, the superior numbers 
 and veteran determination of a foreign foe bent upon spoil and 
 dishonor of a rich and populous territory ? or the entire suc- 
 cess, with which he delivered from the scalping-knife and tor- 
 ture of wily and ferocious savages, the Florida settlements, an 
 achievement, which in subsequent trials far less arduous, no 
 other leader has been able to imitate ? Or the triumph of 
 simple firmness over diplomatic, procrastinating subtleties, 
 when, planting his foot upon what was clearly right, in a de- 
 termination to suffer nothing that was clearly wrong, he swung 
 round a mighty European empire to pay its long withheld in- 
 demnity for wrongs done to American commerce ? And in 
 that darkest hour of our country's history, when a narrow 
 sectionalism counterfeited the color of patriotic zeal, and dis- 
 cord shook her Gorgon locks, and men shuddered as they 
 saw, yawning wide in the midst of our confederacy, a gulf, 
 which threatened to demand the devotion of many a life before 
 it would close again, how sublimely did he proclaim over the 
 land that doctrine sacred as the name of "Washington, The 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 337 
 
 Union must he preserved! and the storm died away with impo- 
 tent mutterings. Nor is his glory in this the less, that he 
 shared it with another, and that other, one whose name the 
 applauses of his countrymen have taught the mountains and 
 the valleys to echo down for far generations, as the gallant 
 the frank, the brilliant statesman, to whose fame the highest 
 office could add no decoration, nor disappointment rob of just 
 claims to the people's love. It was a lofty spectacle, full of 
 rebuke to party jealousy and of instruction to their countrymen,, 
 when Henry Clay offered the compromise of his darling theory, 
 and Andrew Jackson endorsed the new bond that made the 
 Union again, and, as we trust, indissolubly, firm. 
 
 Remarkable as the contrast is, the indomitable old man had 
 traits of temper tender, simple, and touching. With what 
 faithful affection he honored her while living, whose dear dust 
 made the hope of his last resting-place more sweet, that he 
 might sleep again at her side ! And, if his heart seemed 
 sometimes steeled against the weakness of mercy, when crime 
 was to be punished, or mutiny controlled, or danger annihilated j 
 he could also stoop in his career of bloody conquest, to take a 
 wailing, new-made orphan to his pitying heart ; with the same 
 hand, that had just struck down invading foes, he steadied the 
 judgment-seat shaken with the ti'emors of him who sat upon it, 
 to pronounce sentence against him for law violated from mar- 
 tial necessity ; and at the height of authority, the poor found 
 him a brother and a friend. 
 
 But, O how surpassingly beautiful was his closing scene, 
 when, as the glories of his earthly honor were fading in the 
 brightness of his eternal anticipations, and his head humbly 
 
 29 
 
338 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 rested upon the bosom of Him who was crucified for our sins, 
 his latest breath departed with praises of that religion which 
 had become his only boast, and earnest counsel that all who 
 loved him would obtain the like faith, and meet him in heaven ! 
 There was no doubt in his death ; he had prepared to meet 
 his God ; and when his giant heart fainted, and his iron frame 
 failed, God was the strength of his heart, and his portion for- 
 ever. Little would all his achievements have won for him, 
 had he gained the whole world yet lost his soul ; but now his 
 fame wiU survive until time shall be no more, and his spirit is 
 immortal among the redeemed. The angels bore him from 
 us, no longer the hero, the statesman, the guide of millions, 
 and the master mind of his country ; but a sinner saved by 
 grace to the feet of the Lamb that was slain, a little child of 
 God to the bosom of his Father. My hearers, have you been 
 his friends ? Obey his parting counsel, and by faith in Jesus, 
 follow him to heaven, whom you have delighted to follow on 
 earth. Have you been in opposition to his life ? Refuse not 
 the profit of his death, but find in that blood, which cleansed 
 him from all his sins, atonement for your own. O that his 
 last testimony had the same power over men's souls, as his 
 cheer in battle, and his proclamations of political doctrine ! 
 Then would he shine bright among the brightest in the con- 
 stellation of those, who turn many to righteousness. 
 
 My brethren, I have spoken much longer than I meant to 
 have done, but you would not have Avithheld from me the 
 privilege. If I have dwelt upon the best traits in the notable 
 character of one, who has not been suffered to escape the 
 earnest crimination of many, it has been because he is dead. 
 
DUTY OF A PATKIOT. 339 
 
 You, who listened to me with so much candor, when I paid, 
 four years since, a humble tribute to the merits of him who 
 reached the height of authority to sink into a grave watered 
 by a nation's tears, will not condemn my utterance of similar 
 emotions now. The jackal hate, that howls over the lifeless 
 body, is far removed from your Christian charity and generous 
 judgment. 
 
 Vile is the vengeance on the ashes cold, 
 And envy base to bark at sleeping mould. 
 
 Let us rather pray as Christians, that the memory of good 
 deeds may live, and the example of a Christian's death be 
 sanctified. Let us, as Christian patriots, take new courage in 
 setting forth, by word and practice, the paramount virtue of 
 the religion we profess, to save our country, as it saves the 
 soul ; and, while we mourn the conflicts of evil passion, not 
 forget the actual good, which, by the Divine favor, is working 
 out health from the mysterious fermentation. 
 
 There is, notwithstanding occasional agitation, a calm, good 
 sense among our people, sufficient to recover and maintain 
 the equilibrium. It is not seen blustering ai'ound the polls ; 
 it is not heard vociferating and applauding in party meetings ; 
 nor, unhappily, does it often appear on the arena, where 
 misnomered statesmen struggle rather for personal advance- 
 ment than their country's good ; but it lives with those, who, 
 from honest toil, are too independent to be bought, or, from 
 honest competence, too content to desire the doubtful distinc- 
 tions of popular favor. It is nurtured by the lessons of holy 
 religion. It is breathed in the prayer of God's true wor- 
 
340 DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 
 
 shippers. It deliberates around the domestic hearth, where 
 the father thinks of the posterity who are to live after him ; 
 in the philosophic retirement of the man of letters ; in the 
 workshop where the freeman feels proud of his sweat ; and in 
 the cultured field, from which the farmer knows that his bread 
 is sure by the bounty of heaven. It is felt in the practice of 
 common duties, the example of daily virtues, and the results 
 of observant experience. It is like oil on the waves of noisy 
 strife. The man in power trembles as he hears its stiU small 
 voice ; the secret conspirator finds its clear eye upon him, and 
 quails beneath the searching scrutiny ; and, like the angel of 
 Israel, it meets the demagogue on his way to curse the land 
 which God has blessed, and, if he be not turned back, it alarms 
 and forewarns the beast on which he rides. 
 
 It may be said, that the party of the honest and intelligent 
 is small, far smaller than, with my respect for my country, I 
 believe it to be ; but, if it be, it has still the controlling voice 
 from the divisions of the rest. Each disastrous experiment 
 teaches them new prudence, each well-sustained trial new 
 courage. They have not looked for immediate perfection, 
 and, therefore, are willing yet to learn. They are the men 
 who hold the country together, and their influence is the salt 
 which saves the mass from utter corruption. I look upward 
 above the dust which is raised by scuffling partisans, to the 
 throne of our fathers' God ; I look backward on all the threat- 
 ening events through which he has brought us ; and I can 
 commit my country to the care of Him who " maketh even 
 the wrath of man to praise him," and believe that it is safe. 
 Under providence, I rely with an unshaken faith on the in- 
 
DUTY OF A PATRIOT. 341 
 
 telligent will of the American people. If my faith be a de- 
 lusion, may it go with me to my grave. When its warrant 
 proves false, I could pray God, if it be his will, to let me die ; 
 for the brightest hope that ever dawned on political freedom 
 shall have been lost in darkness, the fairest column ever reared 
 by the hands of men cast down, and the beacon light of the 
 world gone out. 
 
 My hearers, we must soon appear before God to answer for 
 all our conduct here. Then, what will avail all our busy, 
 anxious, most successful pursuit of this world, if, through 
 neglect of a timely faith and repentance, we are lost forever ? 
 Let me entreat you, therefore, to seek first the kingdom of 
 God and his righteousness, that the Holy Spirit may be your 
 guide, Christ your intercessor, and the Father receive you 
 among the children of his love. Until we have obtained this 
 grace for ourselves, we shall seek in vain to do any real good ; 
 there is no promise of an answer to our prayers, or of a bless- 
 ing upon our zeal. We cannot be faithful to others, while we 
 remain unfaithful to God and our own souls. May the voice 
 of Providence, confirming the testimony of the Scriptures, 
 prevail with us all to prepare for eternity, that, in our wise 
 preparation, we may secure our own best happiness, by ren- 
 dering the best service to God, our country, and our race ! 
 Amen. 
 
 29* 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 AN ORATION 
 
 BEFOBE THB 
 
 LITERAEY SOCIETIES OF YALE COLLEGE, 
 
 AUGUST 19, 1845. 
 
 (published bt bequest.) 
 
ORATION. 
 
 Gentlemen, 
 
 Rising, at your flattering request, to speak before such an 
 assemblage, as The Literary Societies of Yale College, 
 your orator adopts, with all their force, the earnest words of 
 Ringelbergius : — "Happy young men, trained from very 
 childhood, under the best masters, in various learning, to whom 
 belong the blooming cheek, the pliant limb, a hope of many 
 years, and an unworn energy, would that I could share the 
 freshness of your morning, and seek, with a vigor like yours, 
 those heights of knowledge, which now, from early neglect, 
 are beyond my reach ! Vain are my regrets. Let me solace 
 them by exhorting you to persevere in the difficult, but hon- 
 orable labors of a studious life, labors whose success is certain, 
 as their rewards are glorious ! " * 
 
 Our discourse will, therefore, be upon 
 
 STUDY ; 
 
 a theme beyond his powers, whose distinguished office it is to 
 address you ; yet, inspiring courage from this classical atmos- 
 
 * I. Fortii Ringelbergii Lib. De Batione Studii. 
 
346 A PLEA FOE STUDY. 
 
 phere, he feels sure, of a courteous sympathy with his well- 
 meant efforts. Under the shadow of your venerable Univer- 
 sity, founded by ancient i)iety and edified by the good of many 
 generations, crowded by aspirants to scholarship from every 
 part of our wide confederacy, and illustrated by the lives of 
 professors as eminent for every virtue as they are excellent 
 in every science, the most humble lover of Christian learn- 
 ing may bring his tribute to a cause, identified with the name 
 of Yale. 
 
 But do they, who have been blessed by the liberal nurture 
 of your ALMA 3LA.TER, need incitement to pursue study so de- 
 lightfully begun ? Is not the day, on which they receive her 
 parting blessing, rightly named a Commencement, because 
 then, obeying her last affectionate words, they commence, 
 haculum in manu, those higher walks of truth, for whose steep 
 ascents she has carefully disciplined their growing faculties ? 
 Can we think it possible, that any, who have here known the 
 pleasures of intellect, will ever be seduced by the earthward 
 and imbruting temptations of a vulgar world ? 
 
 These doubts have a melancholy answer from the past; for 
 by far the greatest part of those, whose advantages should have 
 made them lights to mankind, shining brighter and brighter, 
 are lost in disgraceful obscurity, become slaves of the mine, 
 mere delvers after gain, or drag their way through life mortally 
 tainted with sloth, the leprosy of soul. 
 
 A college course may be compared to the fabled regions 
 below. Many feel themselves chained down by iron rules, the 
 vulture impatience gnawing at their liver; or are whirled 
 round, like Ixion, by a routine of unwilling exercises; or pour 
 
A PLEA. FOR STUDY. 347 
 
 lessons into memories, leaky as the sieves of the Danaides; or 
 strive vainly to taste enjoyments, which tantalize the appetite 
 of their feeble minds ; or, most laboriously, 
 
 " With many a weary step and many a groan," 
 
 heave up the mass of their accumulating tasks until they reach 
 a bachelor's degree, to let it run down again, and to run 
 down after it, congratulating themselves over Sisyphus, that 
 they may stay at the bottom. A fortunate few find here an 
 Elysium, where they hold high converse with the mighty 
 dead, and emerge, like ^neas, wise from their counsels, to 
 lay the foundation of an influence more enduring than "eter- 
 nal Rome." Such spirits, at least, will listen to an advocate 
 of Study. 
 
 Study, in its wide meaning, signifies, Zeal in acquiring 
 knowledge of any kind, by any method ; but, leaving those, 
 more conversant with them, to recommend otPier sciences, our 
 plea is for Letters, especially, Letters which reveal the expe- 
 rience, the taste, and the mind of antiquity. 
 
 Study abounds in religious uses. It is a scruple of a sickly 
 conscience, that our immediate duties are so many, as to forbid 
 us time for such occupation. The true end of life is prepara- 
 tion for eternity, and religion ought to have our supreme re- 
 gard. But what is religion ? Is it not the study of God, of 
 our fellow creatures and of ourselves, and the intelligent 
 practice of our duties to all? God is our best Teacher, and 
 how does he instruct us ? He has not, in his book, taught us 
 only of Himself, nor confined the text to mere statements of 
 
348 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 doctrine, bare precepts and direct promises. The Scriptures 
 are full of man's history, the strange workings of the human 
 heart as shown by the conduct of nations and individuals, the 
 miserable consequences of departure from primeval religion, 
 and the peaceful results of righteousness. It is not presump- 
 tion to inquire after God, for " the knowledge of the Holy is 
 understanding;" but he has taught us, also, that man is the 
 proper study of man. Whatever exhibits human nature, shows 
 us ourselves. 
 
 The style of the Scriptures is not bare and meagre. Sim- 
 plicity of narrative, pathos and grandeur of description, elo- 
 quence, argument, philosophy, poetry, imagery, apothegm, 
 maxim, proverb, are all there ; and each inspired writer has a 
 genius, with its correspondent manner, peculiar to himself. 
 Study of the Bible awakens a taste for letters, and sanctions by 
 infallible example, a cultivation of those arts which the scholar 
 loves for the delight and power they give him. 
 
 God teaches us by his works. He has not formed them 
 after the narrow scheme of a misnomered utilitarianism. 
 There are the rugged, the barren, and the dreary ; but how 
 far excelling in number and extent, are the graceful, the 
 changeful, the wonderful and the bright ! How lavish has he 
 been of trees, and shrubs, and herbs, and flowers, moulding 
 their anatomy and painting their leaves with infinite skill ! 
 Mountain and valley, hill and dale and plain, forest and mea- 
 dow, brook and river and lake and sea, combine their con- 
 trasts to adorn the fruitful earth for the dwelling of its innu- 
 merable tribes. Above us, the clouds, dark, fleecy or gor- 
 geous, of eyerj shape, sweep over the face of heaven, or hang 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. Mi 
 
 around the horizon, or, passing away, leave the blue vault 
 magnificent with the garniture of sun and moon and planet 
 and constellation. They all have their uses; but is their 
 beauty, with our faculty to perceive and to feel it, of no use? 
 an extravagance of the Creator, a profuseness of bounty, from 
 which we must abstain in a self-denial more prudent than the 
 kindness of God? Let the cold, dull plodder, who, intent on 
 his creeping steps, fears to look up and delight himself with 
 that which delights God, study the lyrics of David, the rhap- 
 sodies of holy prophets, and the illustrated sermons of his 
 Lord. 
 
 The greatest divine work within our observation is man ;; 
 man is most wonderful in his soul, and Letters are the devel- 
 opment of the human soul by its own actings. They open to> 
 us a world, a universe, more vast than material creation, not 
 the less instructive, because the free attributes of the moral 
 creature are permitted to modify the original economy. The 
 evil of man is his own, his perverted passions, his calamitous 
 errors of theory and practice ; but the goodness, the wisdom, 
 and power of man, is the manifestation of God in his crea- 
 ture, and thus does the operation of evil itself, assist us to 
 know the infallibility of that Supreme Will, whence no evil 
 could ever emanate ; which is the principal lesson of Scrip- 
 tures, written by " holy men of old as they were moved by the 
 Holy Ghost." Every fact, discovered in the aggregate expe- 
 rience of all former times, confirms the testimony of revelation 
 to the necessity of that piety, which God has pronounced our 
 highest good. 
 
 As we read the classic pages of poet, orator, historian and 
 30 
 
350 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 philosophical inquirer, we are surprised by a beauty, sweet- 
 ness and sublimity, far more exquisite than any external 
 things, which refine and elevate our spiritual perceptions. If 
 it be not denied us to gather the perishing flowers, to hear the 
 music and contemplate the scenery, which God prepares for 
 our senses, that we may derive from them pleasure and ad- 
 vantage ; may we not enjoy with profit the bloom, the melody, 
 the grace, the tenderness, the incomparable grandeur and il- 
 limitable range of thought, which distinguishes man from 
 grosser being, and admits him to an adoring communion with 
 the Father of Spirits ? 
 
 There is a sphere of life promised to the Christian, where 
 matter has no place, and, by an inscrutable mystery, the bodies 
 of the redeemed are etherealized into spiritual substance ; 
 where exist those ideal realities, of which sensible things are 
 but the fleeting shadows ; and truth, and joy, and love, and 
 praise, are known, and felt, and uttered, by thought alone, 
 unseen, intangible, unheard, as the essence of God and the 
 souls of his happy children. In that deep silence harmonies 
 are ever rolling ; over those invisible regions eternal beauty 
 is outspread, and there, untrammelled by the impediments of 
 matter, spirits hold fellowship with spirits, in an activity so 
 pure and free, that Scripture has described it by perfect Rest. 
 
 The outward engagements, which religion demands of us 
 here, are, in their place and degree, a discipline preparatory 
 to heaven ; but we cannot fulfil them aright, nor is our educa- 
 tion progressive, except as we free our souls from the degra- 
 dation of sense, by uplifting them to the world of thought ; 
 and find there a vigor and satisfaction, independent of all low- 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 351 
 
 er things. This is the work of Study. When we bend over 
 the volume, a miraculous power suspends the laws, which sep- 
 arate us from the distant and the past. The scholar from far- 
 off lands sits at our side ; the sages of far antiquity live again 
 in their deathless words ; they speak a silent language, whose 
 tones shall stir the hearts of generations long to come. O 
 then it is that we feel ourselves to be immortal ; citizens of an 
 imperishable universe, and, yielding reason, staggered by the 
 vastness of her destiny, to the stronger virtue of faith, return 
 to walk through earth, pilgrims whose aim is a better country, 
 the paradise of the soul. 
 
 But some may ask : "Why study particularly the ancients, 
 when we have in modern learning all the advantages of their 
 labors, enhanced and corrected by researches under the light 
 of Christianity ? 
 
 The objection would be of more force, if the moderns had 
 always sought to rectify, by evangelical assistance, the errors 
 of antiquity. Unhappily, however, since the early time when 
 professed rhetoricians and teachers of philosophy became 
 fathers and doctors of the church, there has been a strong ten- 
 dency to engraft upon the true and living vine of Christ's 
 planting, subtleties and abstractions from the Grecian and 
 Egyptian schools. Men, converted to the new faith in middle 
 life, retained the bent and methods of philosophizing, acquired 
 under masters who knew not of Jesus; nor could the mind 
 of the world be turned readily out of channels, in which it had 
 flowed for ages. An accidental similarity of some terms in 
 the apostolical writings to those of the philosophers, and an 
 imaginary identity between some Academic theories and 
 
352 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 certain Christian doctrines, with an abuse of the Aristotelian 
 dialectics, contributed largely to the adulteration of that 
 wisdom which came directly from above, pure, original and 
 unique- To this day, indeed now more than for centuries, 
 Plato and Plotinus are made interpreters of the sacred epistles ; 
 wild, if not pi'ofane dreams of the Emanative system, at utter 
 variance with the Bible, which declares all but God to have 
 been created, are enthusiastically advocated from the pulpit, 
 as well as the press ; nay, the Stoic scheme of reproduction 
 after the fiery close of a Providential cycle, is more than 
 quoted in supposed illustration of literal prophecy. "We are 
 often startled by the walking ghosts of long buried notions 
 from the limbo of heathenism, not the less recognizable by the 
 scholar, because wearing a Geneva cloak, an Oxford surplice, 
 or a cross-embroidered vestment. On the other hand, the 
 astute skeptic, encouraged by this actual, though unintention- 
 al, vailing of Divine teaching to the competency of unaided 
 reason, has, by a pernicious skill, cited the past to prove the 
 unnecessariness of Revelation for the knowledge of that, which 
 God only has made, or could make, manifest. Thus, by the 
 folly of its friends, who have literally " gone down to Egypt 
 for help," and the bold cunning of its enemies, who strike 
 strongly against the polemic, that has flung away the shield of 
 faith and the sword of the Spirit to wield weapons of man's 
 forging, the Gospel is put in a false position, from which no 
 human means, under God, can extricate it, but sanctified 
 learning. 
 
 There is not one modem theory, which has not been con- 
 structed, as the later Romans build their houses, with materi- 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 353 
 
 als taken from ancient ruins ; every great metaphysical dispute, 
 now agitated, has a source more early than history can reach ; 
 nor is it possible to reason correctly backward, through the 
 confusion of multiplied eclecticisms, to the errors which those, 
 who, departing from the faith given by God to man at the 
 beginning, and " professing to be wise, became fools," have 
 mingled with that primeval revelation. There is (blessed be 
 the Almighty Comforter !) a divine witness in the Gospel it- 
 self, more convincing than any corroborative testimony ; but, 
 except we deem valueless the confirmation of experience, and 
 leave all the results of past inquiry to the perversions of skep- 
 tics, we must study the learning of antiquity, before we can 
 fairly vindicate the necessity and excellence of that sys- 
 tem, which we have received from the Holy Ghost. It is, 
 when, after thorough search, we fail to discover in ancient 
 books, except the Bible, a logical argument for the Be- 
 ing of God or the immortality of the soul, stronger than a 
 general traditionary notion ;* or any scheme of philosophy, 
 which could account for the existence of matter, antagonist to 
 spirit, and limiting even the will of the One they called Su- 
 preme ;t and far back as we go, we see clearer and yet more 
 
 * Ut pono, firmissimum hoc aferri videtur cum Deos esse credamus, 
 quod nulla gens tam fera, nemo omnium tam sit immanis, cujus men- 
 tem non imbuerit Dcorum opinio; et seq. — Tusc. Quces. 1, c. 13. 
 
 t Citations would be superfluous (had we room) to show, that no 
 scheme of ancient philosophy made matter otherwise than eternal. 
 Matter could not be accounted for by emanation from The ONE, and, 
 therefore, it was impossible for them to consider it entirely subject to 
 His will. Creation, in our sense of the term, out of nothing, is not to be 
 found among their conjectures. Here is a radical distinction from the 
 doctrine of the Scriptures, which renders the Platonic theory utterly ir- 
 30* 
 
354 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 clear traces of an early God-taught knowledge, (fragments of 
 which believed in, though unproved, because, as Plato says, 
 they were learned by children at the breast,* from mothers 
 and nurses among barbarians as well as Greeks, constitute 
 whatever is genuine in their elaborate and labyrinthine spec- 
 ulations,) that we are ready to bow with a more humble trust 
 at the feet of the Crucified, who made all things and upholds 
 them, revealed life and immortality by the radiance which 
 shone through his broken tomb, and now, as at first he com- 
 manded light to shine out of darkness, shines in the hearts of 
 his people, the brightness of his Father's glory and the char- 
 acter of invisible God. 
 
 It is only by a careful study of the ancients themselves 
 that we can know how poor were their best thoughts of di- 
 vinity ; how dim and comfortless their expectations after 
 death; how various and conflicting their definitions of the 
 right and the good ; how cold their morality, which, merging 
 all affection in wisdom, accounted the poor man, the laborer, 
 and the uncultivated, as profane, mere slaves of the initiated ; 
 how insufficient their motives to uphold them against present 
 temptation ; and, at least in one case, but that the most avail- 
 able for our purpose which could be given, how anxious their 
 expectation of a Teacher from heaven,! who would show us 
 
 reconcilable with our faith. Should any one be disposed to quote the 
 Timseus against us, he will find himself sufficiently answered by Bruck- 
 er.—Hist. Phil. Vol. I. p. 676-7. 
 
 * . . . . TrEf&o/xevoi, Tolg /xv^oi^, ovg kK veuv TtaiSuv etl kv yuXa^i 
 TpE^ofievoL Tpo<pQv re tjkovov nal fiT^ripuv. k. t. /I. NOMOI, I. 
 
 t AvayKalov ovv earl irepifiiveiv euf uv tlc; fiu-Qy ug del wpdg T^eovg 
 Kal irpbg uv&puirovg dLanElc'&ai. n. t. /i. AAKIB. AETT. § 22, 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 355 
 
 how to live, and how to pray, and what to hope for. Then 
 are we prepared to resist the Platonist, who, intoxicated with 
 the poetical romancings of the sublime idealist, would per- 
 suade us that we are gods, knowing good and evil ; or, to flay 
 the Marsyas-hke skeptic, who dares to match his skill against 
 the Divine, after a contest with him upon his own instruments. 
 If the swan of Egina, forsaking the safer bosom of his more 
 modest master, never reached by his boldest flight the cardinal 
 fact, which a Christian child reads in the first verse of his Bi- 
 ble, what worth to us can be theories based upon the fable of 
 emanation ? If an apostle of our Lord has encouraged us 
 when we lack wisdom to ask of God, with what patience can 
 we listen to men, who bid us search and find within our sinful, 
 creature souls, a microcosm of all ideas? If Socrates, the 
 best of the ancients, while expecting a new revelation, con- 
 tented himself with gathering and separating from the rubbish 
 of superstition, the golden particles of truth washed down to 
 him by the traditionary stream ; and Aristotle, the greatest, 
 never showed his unequalled sagacity more than in abstaining 
 altogether from questions of religious import; and Cicero, 
 after sitting as umpire over a congress of all sects, pronounced 
 the atheist's argument most true, hoping against logic that re- 
 ligion might be found probable ;* how very ridiculous is the 
 vanity of men, who, turning their backs upon the Sun of 
 Righteousness, which nevertheless will shine around them, 
 boast that they can demonstrate by their puny M'it what those 
 giant intellects could not discover ! 
 
 * . . . ita discessimus, ut Velleio CottiB disputatio verior, mihi Balbi 
 ad veritatis similitudinem propensior. — De Natura Deorum III. 40. 
 
856 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 Were they, who rebuke us for these studies, as inconsistent 
 with more active piety, to consider how much of our common 
 and most necessary religious privileges have been derived, 
 under God, from such learning, the tone of their rash and un- 
 grateful criminations would be less positive. The very Scrip- 
 tures, which they hold justly to be the fountain of saving 
 truth, were written, at first in scattered pieces, in tongues to 
 them unknown, and have reached us through long ages, and, 
 until the art of printing, by the uncertain hands of trans- 
 cribers. They have many passages, which, had we no ac- 
 quaintance with the history, customs, opinions and idioms of 
 their time, would be utterly inexplicable ; so that to translate 
 them, much more to establish the canon, to verify the text and 
 elucidate it fully, demanded, and still demands, extensive eru- 
 dition and severe literary discipline. To open the paths of 
 heavenly wisdom for the little feet of the Sunday scholar, 
 mountains have been levelled and valleys filled up, crooked 
 places made straight and rough places plain, by the stupendous 
 labors of untiring minds, who employed the skill and strength 
 which study only could give, in preparing the way of the 
 Lord to preach his Gospel to the poor. Shall it be lightly 
 said, that the hours they spent discovering the secrets of lan- 
 guage, comparing the various operations of thought, and ob- 
 serving the effects of national and individual peculiarities, 
 were wasted ; though to accomplish themselves for their work, 
 it was necessary that they should range through all heathen 
 literature, biography and history, eloquence and philosophy, 
 epic, lyric, tragedy and comedy, from the oldest Orphic frag- 
 ment to the memoranda of Gellius, the gossip of the Deipnoso- 
 
A PLEA. FOR STUDY. 357 
 
 phists, and that last link in the chain of Hermes, the problems 
 of Proclus ? With very few exceptions (perhaps only one, 
 the glorious old dreamer, Bunyan,) since the days of the apos- 
 tles, the servants of God, whatever may have been their im- 
 mediate usefulness, have left an influence upon the church and 
 the world lasting and wide in proportion as their zeal was 
 seconded by learning. Who will challenge the services of 
 Luther, profoundly versed in ancient wisdom, and Melancthon 
 (ille Germanise suae magister, omnis doctrinae presidio in- 
 structus, divinis humanisque literis ornatus*), whose eloquent 
 exhortations to the study of the classics have come down to 
 us with the Augsburg Confession ; of Calvin and Rivet, whose 
 Ciceronian periods enchant the scholar as much as their 
 matchless divinity edifies the saint ; of Zuingle, an editor of 
 Pindar, and Piscator, a translator of Horace ; of Grotius, 
 teacher of all moral science, and the elder Vossius, worthy of 
 being named with his great compatriot ; of Owen, Baxter, and 
 Howe, each thoroughly bred to the use of books ; of Matthew 
 Henry, whose apt quotations show a stretch of reading which, 
 from his modest quaintness, we might not otherwise have sus- 
 pected, and Doddridge, whose style betrays early familiarity 
 with classic models ; of Lardner and Warburton, who heaped 
 the spoil of the Gentiles in the temple of the Lord, and of 
 many others, not to speak of those in our own day and in our 
 own land, honored alike by the erudite and the good ? Was 
 their piety, because of their learning, less active or less use- 
 ful, than that of those who cannot take a step in Christian 
 
 * Jo. Alberti Oratio de Poesi Theologis utili. 
 
358 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 duty, but leaning on their help ? Can we be wrong in at- 
 tempting to follow their examples ? 
 
 Temptations there may be, there are, in a studious life, 
 which have led astray many an unhappy mind. But where 
 is there not temptation ? Is the Christian in the counting- 
 house, the work-shop or the field, free from it ? Does the 
 devil triumph more in the retirement of a library than in the 
 squabbles of ecclesiastical councils, where the most empty are 
 always the most noisy ; or in those mischievous excitements, 
 like that of Israel before Horeb, when impatient to get on, 
 they set up a god of Egypt to counterfeit the presence of 
 Jehovah ? A difficult, but useful book, is no bad charm to 
 lay those evil spirits, who love the dry and desert places of 
 ignorance far more than a well-filled and busy head ; and if 
 we cannot force out the tempter by reading, we may try, as 
 Luther did, what virtue there is in an inkstand. A Christian 
 man, with a good thought in his brain and a pen ia his hand, 
 is more than a match for a legion of such, as would drive a 
 swinish multitude down a precipice into a sea of absurdity, 
 fanaticism or crime. 
 
 Defective as was their knowledge of divine things and of 
 physical science (though our pride in that has been not a little 
 shaken by recent searches among their monuments), it is no- 
 torious that we are far behind the ancients in many other 
 respects. The moderns have written much upon government, 
 the laws of thought, rhetoric and criticism, but their rules and 
 examples are chiefly drawn from the standards of classic ages ; 
 and every faithful student knows by experience, how much 
 more can be learned from actual conversation with the Greek 
 
A. PLEA FOR STUDY. 359 
 
 and Latin masterpieces, than from all the manuals which flat- 
 ter us with a promise of easy acquisition. It is to them we 
 must go for a large series of experiments, which they made 
 in attempting the distribution and balance of power, not the 
 less instructive because they were so remarkably ignorant of 
 that most philanthropic science, Political Economy, which, 
 next to the Gospel, whose legitimate offspring it is, will do 
 more than any thing else for the elevation and fraternization 
 of our race. Their profound and indefatigably curious philo- 
 sophical inquiries anticipated, as we said before, every question 
 now vexed, except those suggested by the Scriptures. Aris- 
 totle's system of exact definition, nice analysis, and direct 
 demonstration, governs the reasoning world. Plato, in rich- 
 ness of metaphor, nobleness of diction, and musical cadence, 
 has never been approached ; and an oration of Demosthenes 
 carefully dissected, will show us better how to carry off an 
 audience captive, than a thousand lectures on eloquence from 
 scholastic chairs. No man should write a history, who has 
 not pondered over the intense narrative of Thucydides ; or 
 biography, if he know not the Life of Agricola almost by 
 heart ; or an essay, until familiar with those of Seneca, super- 
 fluous as they are in antithetical conceits. Homer, whom all 
 have emulated, looks down from his dateless throne upon 
 every epic adventurer. Horace, imitator as they say he was 
 of AlcjEus, has never found a successful rival. Milton (whose 
 obligations to the classics a scholar detects through all his 
 poetry), Dryden, Pope, Collins, and Gray, caught the fire and 
 rhythm of their odes from Pindar. The pithy apothegms of 
 Juvenal are our common proverbs. Where but in the dramas 
 
360 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 of Shakspeare, who alone lifts his head superior to ancient 
 comparison, can we discover the tender grace of Euripides, 
 the chastened grandeur of Sophocles, or the inexhaustible wit, 
 facile play of words, and comic satire of Aristophanes ? 
 Where, even in Shakspeare, is there a conception like the 
 Prometheus or Cassandra of -^ilschjlus, who transcends our 
 great master of the human heart by transcending the sphere 
 of actual humanity ? 
 
 But not to multiply instances, unnecessary before this audi- 
 ence, it may be confidently asserted that no high excellence 
 in the arrangement or expression of thoughts, can be acquired 
 without cultivating the ancients. A careful study of their 
 languages is itself an education in strength, clearness, and 
 delicacy of phrase, not merely because so much of our own 
 has been taken from them, that we cannot understand it until 
 we understand them, but because of their superior mechanism. 
 The Greek (with its supposed parent, the Sanscrit), is the 
 greatest and most mysterious achievement of human inven- 
 tion ; for not only is its polish, which might be the work of 
 progressive refinement, exquisite, but its radical principles are 
 perfect in philosophical arrangement. He, who knows all 
 things, alone knows how a system could have originated in 
 those shadowy ages so accurate and complete, that the best 
 style of modern tongues seems, by its side, rude and unregu- 
 lated. We do not go too far in saying, that it exhibits, more 
 fully than anything else, the relations between thought and 
 utterance, and that a thorough acquaintance with its con- 
 struction is as necessary to the metaphysician as the critic. 
 
 To this, and, doubtless, springing from the same source, the 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 361 
 
 Greeks added an intense love, a keen perception and severe 
 ideas of beauty, which rendered their compositions simple and 
 harmonious, yet grand or graceful ; like their own matchless 
 sculptures, whose drapery was managed to reveal a symmetry 
 that needed no decoration to conceal defects, but animated,, 
 breathing and energetic, from more than Promethean fire. 
 Nothing can be mores delightful to a literary mind, nothing 
 more improving, than the study of their chaste and highly- 
 wrought JEstheticism. Happy is he who can bring skill in 
 their art to the manifestation of those heavenly doctrines which 
 open the fairest field for its exercise, and are never so true as 
 when presented in their own naked beauty ! It is not the 
 genuine scholar who becomes a pedant, nor the true philoso- 
 pher who tampers with revealed certainties ; but, while half- 
 taught pretenders astound the multitude with sonorous poly- 
 syllables, or presumptuously ventui'e their crude conjectures, 
 (stigmatized by the learned apostle, as " philosophy falsely so 
 called,") the man of faith and knowledge employs his studious 
 retirement and extensive means in distilling from foreign ad- 
 mixtures the waters of wisdom, that he may give them to the 
 thirsty soul, pure, bright and transparent, as they came out of 
 the fountain above. Nothing so much abases that pride which 
 seeks self-distinction, as a sincere love of the true. Compari- 
 son with great ideas teaches us the insignificance of our 
 powers, and then exalts us by the warranted ambition of se- 
 curing our own glory through a submissive devotion to the 
 glory of truth, which is the glory of God. 
 
 From these considerations, it follows that study should be 
 governed by an elevated and religious spirit. Only three 
 
 31 
 
862 A PLEA FOE STUDY. 
 
 motives are allowed to us in any pursuit : the honor of the 
 Lord our Creator, the well-being of our fellow creatures, and 
 our own immortal happiness. These are so interlinked as 
 not to be separable. God, by the sanctions of his law and 
 Gospel, justifies a regard to our own good, while he condemns 
 selfishness, and makes service of our human brethren duty to 
 himself, which cannot be loyally rendered, except we find in 
 it our greatest pleasure. The student, to be successful, must 
 delight in his noble task. He will meet with many difiiculties 
 and disappointments. His toil will be severe and increasing. 
 In themselves his trials will give him pain. Yet, as the 
 peasant sweats for bread, the soldier bleeds for honor, or the 
 martyr suflfers for his cause, he encounters and bears them all 
 for the sake of the reward before him, until, after some de- 
 termined practice and gratifying successes, he loves the very 
 labor, and difficulty only rouses his generous courage. No 
 man is fit to be a student unless he has a heart for study, a 
 love of the beautiful and the great in thought, stronger than 
 any other passion, and an energy of will undaunted by any 
 encounter. His calling and destiny are elsewhere. He may, 
 according to his capacity, fill some lower place in the social 
 economy, but the rank and inheritance of a scholar are not for 
 him. Learning is jealous of all rivals, and spurns all who are 
 too sluggish, or timid, or sordid, to undertake, dare or sacrifice 
 every thing for her sake. 
 
 There are those, who claim to be men of letters, and per- 
 haps of some note, who follow study for a trade, and make 
 books or teach out of them, as tinmen make or peddlers sell 
 the most common utensils, but would in a moment fling aside 
 
A PLEA. FOR STUDY. SQ9^ 
 
 their scholarship, such as it is, to take up any handicraft that 
 promised better wages. Perhaps we ought not to scourge 
 these money-changers from the temple, (though our fingers 
 itch for the small cords,) because they may be useful in a de- 
 gree ; Providence employs the meanest and most ugly things; 
 but, certainly, a tinker or a peddler, who loves his business, is 
 incomparably more worthy of respect, than men who, with 
 such advantages of knowledge, appreciate it only by the pence 
 it brings them. 
 
 There are those, scarcely less mechanical, who lose the end 
 of learning by attention to the minutiae of its detail, and see 
 nothing in a classic but its words and accents. They will 
 turn without emotion from the sobbing sentences in the last 
 page of the Phtedon, to luxuriate among the scholia at the 
 bottom; or stop short in the prayer of Iphigenia, hanging 
 on the knees of her father, that they may hunt for author- 
 ities about the suppliant wreath, to which she compares 
 herself so touchingly. They too have their uses; but it 
 is as stone-breakers on the highway of knowledge, or, at 
 best, mere proof readers, who, the printers tell us, are 
 more likely to be accurate the less they feel an author's 
 meaning. 
 
 Others, again, are feverish with impatience to shine ; and, 
 since the beaten path is too much crowded by better men to 
 allow them notoriety, they seek it in eccentric and venturesome 
 novelties. Like Erostratus, they would fire the most sacred 
 system to gain a name, and, careless of consequences, abuse 
 the gifts of God within them, to set the crowd agape. Such 
 men are very mischievous, and the more so the more learning 
 
364 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 they have, as a skilful chemist, if malignant enough, would be 
 the most adroit poisoner. 
 
 There are yet those, who eagerly enjoy the pleasures of 
 study without any regard for the advantage of others ; too 
 intent upon learning, to teach, and upon reading, to write ; 
 absorbed from all thought of the living their association with 
 the dead. God has given them talent and opportunity to store 
 their minds with richest treasures, but in miserly niggardliness 
 they keep them locked from the world. None are wiser for 
 their knowledge, and the Father of lights receives from them 
 no tribute of praise. Heavy will be their responsibility in that 
 hour, when the guilt of neglecting to do good shall be measured 
 by the means granted to accomplish it. 
 
 But the office of the educated is to be benefactors of their 
 race. While we love study for its own sake, we should love 
 it far more for the sake of the faculties it gives us to exercise 
 the highest form of beneficence. Reputation for talent and 
 acquirements, because it enhances our power, may fairly be 
 desired, arid, within proper limits, sought. An intellectual 
 laborer is not less entitled to remuneration for his work, than 
 those who till the earth or ply the loom. "Whatever in our 
 studies refines our taste, improves our manners, or quickens 
 our sensibilities, is to be cherished, because, though the effect 
 be not immediately seen, it prepares us for greater success 
 when we attempt to do good. Yet usefulness to man for the 
 glory of God, should be the student's ruling purpose. That 
 alone can maintain in us an unconquerable courage, lift us 
 above the dangerous temptations within and around, and, pu- 
 rifying our thoughts from selfish and sensual defilement, sane- 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 365 
 
 tify our understanding for that eternal sphere, where charity 
 never fails, though tongues shall cease and knowledge vanish 
 away. The heart, not the reason, is the most noble part of 
 the soul. 
 
 It would, however, be a grave mistake to draw knowledge 
 only from books. Human nature, in all ages, is radically the 
 same. Books help us to understand mankind, and intercourse 
 with mankind helps us to understand books. A theory, 
 which, when read, we think right or wrong, may be proved 
 the reverse by a half hour's observation of actual life ; as, on 
 the other hand, what the superficial infer with ready confi- 
 dence from a few obvious facts, may be utterly opposed by 
 the results of a longer trial, recorded by the historians of the 
 past. The world is a busy laboratory, where experiments 
 are constantly going on, by which we should try our hypothe- 
 ses, and gather facts for farther induction, else we shall be 
 dupes of fantastic speculation, and bring, as others have done 
 before us, ridicule upon scholarship. There is, it is true, much 
 folly in the assumption of superior judgment, by some who 
 claim to be practical men, over those they sarcastically call 
 theorists. What were your practical men without the aid of 
 theorists ? A practical blacksmith may make a lightning-rod 
 that saves a house from destruction, but the theorist, Franklin, 
 first showed the world how to turn aside the thunderbolts of 
 heaven. A practical seaman may easily navigate a ship, but, 
 first, Napier gave him logarithms, and Godfrey his quadrant, 
 and Bowditch taught him how to use them, and older theorists 
 discovered and made plain the higher principles. The prac- 
 tical man, on errands of business, may shoot along a railway, 
 31* 
 
366 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 after the surveyor and engineer have done their work and 
 the locomotive has been made, when, but for them, his utmost 
 speed would be in a horse's legs. The illustration holds good 
 in trade, politics, morals and every thing, that affects the 
 comforts or interests of the race. Still, without practical ob- 
 servation, the most ingenious reasoning is hypothesis that has 
 not gained the strength of theory, nor, until put to the test, 
 can theory have the value of law. 
 
 It is thus with us, when we would turn our knowledge 
 derived from learning to a useful account. To make men 
 better, it is not enough that we demonstrate what they ought 
 to be ; we must know and consider what they are. We may 
 imagine for them a state of health, but our business is with 
 them in a state of disease, which we must understand before 
 we can apply any remedies. Learning gives us a wider 
 range of facts than he has, who can look only upon his little 
 narrow present, and we have all the benefit of former expe- 
 rience in failures or success; but we also need the actual 
 around us. Neither Owen nor Fourier is an original genius. 
 Abstract philosophers of all times have been fond of picturing 
 a perfect social system. Pythagoras made a grand mistake in 
 social organization at Crotona, and John Locke framed the 
 exploded constitution of South Carolina ; nor would any Uto- 
 pia, from Plato's to Sir Thomas More's, succeed better. Com- 
 mon sense, that most uncommon thing, which is nothing else 
 than a shrewd application of ascertained principles to things 
 as they are, should temper our philosophical ambition. 
 
 Let us, then, never think a day's study done, unless we 
 have added to our knowledge from reading, something more 
 
A PLEA FOE STUDY. 367 
 
 from society and conversation. Our nature is social; and 
 much seclusion from the world is unhealthy for mind and 
 heart. A famous scholar recommends a companion even in 
 study, that each may assist the other with his peculiar gifts or 
 attainments, and because of the stimulus which mind receives 
 from mind when brought into contact. "We know, by expe- 
 rience, that to talk over a subject with a sensible friend is a 
 sui'e way, not only to acquire ideas from him, but to call them 
 up from our own resources. The impulse follows us back to 
 our desks, and we set ourselves again to our work, as cheer- 
 fully as we would to pleasant food after a long walk in an 
 agreeable country. But we should not confine ourselves to 
 literary associates. The conversation of intelligent women, if 
 you can find any not too much afraid of being thought " blue 
 stockings" to talk, is eminently instructive. They have a 
 delicacy of tact, a truth of feeling, and a direct philosophy of 
 their own, past our finding out, which the most profound think- 
 er may listen to and learn. The natural ontworking of a lit- 
 tle child's mind is an excellent metaphysical study. So, often, 
 are the rough-hewn ideas of uneducated people. From the 
 most ignorant you may extract something. Their crude rea- 
 sonings, unsophisticated emotions, and even their prejudices 
 and superstitions, will not seldom supply a link wanting from 
 your own chain, or, if they do no more, should make us 
 thankful for being better taught. 
 
 There is danger, however, that the student may be distract- 
 ed from his great purpose, by the various excitements with 
 which the popular mind so often becomes vertiginous. " Se- 
 mel insanivimus omnes," says the proverb ; but it might say 
 
368 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 " semper," with the verb in the present ; for men are ever 
 prone to phrenzy, and, like drunkards, are not nice about the 
 character of a stimulant, if it be strong enough to intoxicate. 
 Perhaps a new moral nostrum demands universal faith, as a 
 wonder-working cure of evil hidden until now from prophet, 
 apostle and sage ; or some metaphysical Rosicrucian has in- 
 vented a formula, by which all mysteries may be resolved into 
 " Easy lessons of one syllable ;" or a political contest nearly 
 divides the national vote, each party vehemently asserting 
 that the other half of the citizenship are knaves or fools, who 
 will, if successful, certainly blow up the confederacy ; or a 
 damsel, put to sleep by the intensity of another's will, is 
 straightway " possessed of a spirit of divination," reads books 
 out of the back of her head, makes excursions to the moon, 
 and " brings her masters much gain by soothsaying ;" or the 
 world is coming to an end ; or " the heavens shine supernatu- 
 rally, and an ox has spoken." But why attempt to enume- 
 rate the proximate causes of these epidemics? If it were not 
 one thing, it would be another. The disease is in human na- 
 ture. It is difficult to avoid the infection, when, if we remain 
 calm or aloof, we are denounced as cold, averse to progress, 
 indifferent to the welfare of our race, irreligious, even impious ; 
 and meet at every corner enthusiasts, wild as Thyades, 
 
 . . . ubi audito stimulant trieterica Baccho 
 Orgia, nocturnusque vocat clamore Cithseron. 
 
 But do not suffer yourselves to be moved from your onward 
 studies. History, as you know, is full of such instances. The 
 Scripture, " given by inspiration of God," " that the i r. c f 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 369 
 
 God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good 
 works," has scarcely left any ethical secret to be discovered 
 by the genius of our late philanthropy. The inner rows of 
 old European libraries are crowded with volumes of eager 
 controversy, painfully written upon questions, the very men- 
 tion of which now excites pitiful laughter. Our beloved 
 country has ten times multiplied her strength, and promises 
 more fairly than ever to survive the results of general elec- 
 tions. Mesmerism, or something very like it, is as old as 
 Aristotle, if we may believe a fragment of Proclus.* The 
 earth has crushed many Millers, and will crush many more, 
 in her revolutions to attain her final destiny; while every page 
 of Julius Obsequens de Prodigiis, will give the pattern of any 
 alleged eccentricity from common laws. 
 
 Neither have the vanity to think that you can do any thing 
 to oppose or correct the prevailing madness. Wait (and you 
 need not wait long) till the paroxysm be over. You cannot 
 put a stra%ht jacket on a whole community, though they may 
 
 * " That it is possil>le for the soul to depart from and enter into the 
 body, is evident from him who, according to Clearchus, in his Treatise 
 on Sleep, used a soul-attracting wand on a sleeping lad, and persuaded 
 Aristotle that the soul may be separated from the body, and that it en- 
 ters into the body and uses it as a lodging. For, striking the lad with 
 the wand, he drew out, and, as it were, led his soul, for the purpose of 
 evincing that the body was immovable, when the soul was at a distance 
 from it, and that it was preserved uninjured; but the soul being led 
 again into the body, by means of the wand, after its entrance, narrated 
 every particular." The MS. Commentary of Proclus on the Tenth 
 Book of the Republic, quoted by Taylor in his fragments of Proclus. 
 The translation does not seem precise or happy. Those who have 
 Taylor's translation of the Republic at hand, may find the original 
 among the notes. 
 
370 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 send you to Bedlam for the attempt. A wise man, when it 
 storms does not stay to chide the north wind, or reason with 
 the hail, but quietly shuts himself up in his library. He will 
 not think that the sky is falling, because the black electric 
 clouds are thundering low and loud. He knows that, as the 
 clear stars are shining on behind the tumults of our mundane 
 atmosphere, the great principles of truth are fixed, radiant 
 and harmonious. Be this your faith and your practice ; then, 
 at the proper season, you may do good to the errorist, blush- 
 ing over his follies, who would never forgive you, if he knew 
 that you had been near when the fit was on him. It would 
 have been well for him who gives you this counsel, if he had 
 always followed his own rule. Piscator ictus sapit. 
 
 Still, there is such an intimate connection between them, 
 that our reason cannot act rightly, at least upon moral ques- 
 tions, except our hearts be cultivated. "We must learn from 
 sympathy with our kind what our nature really is ; and mark 
 how our common passions, infirmities, and sinful tendencies 
 develop themselves in circumstances differing from those in 
 which we are placed. There is a little world in every man's 
 breast, and his life is an abridged history of the race. We 
 shall find much to shock us, and, therefore, to humble us ; but 
 also much to pity and love, which will make us more kind. 
 We shall think worse of human nature in general, but become 
 less uncharitable toward erring individuals ; and feel more 
 strongly the obligation upon us to do all we can for the remo- 
 val of evil, while we are driven to dependence upon the grace 
 of God for success. The best teacher that ever taught, took 
 upon Him our nature, that from a personal sense of our weak- 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 371 
 
 nesses in his human heart, which ached with all our sorrows, 
 his divine wisdom might succor us according to our tempta- 
 tions. His example shows, that separateness from sinners is 
 not seclusion from the world, and that, although we are to come 
 out from it, we must mingle with our fellow-men to do them 
 good. The rule of the Christian should be the method of the 
 student. 
 
 Scarcely less necessary to soundness of mind are good per- 
 sonal habits. Compounded as we are of matter and spirit, 
 the soul energizing through animal organs, the mind is always 
 hurtfuUy affected by an ill-condition of body, or greatly assist- 
 ed by its well-ordered vigor. Care of his health is, therefore, 
 a student's duty, not only because unfaithfulness to a charge 
 so precious would be a degree of suicide, but because without 
 it his intellectual faculties will be weakened and deranged. 
 We hear every day of studious men, breaking down, as it is 
 called, from the supposed effects of application to books ; and 
 many are deterred fi-om mental labor by fear of shortening 
 their lives. If slender, they think themselves too feeble for 
 literary toil; if robust, requiring more active employment. 
 But the truth is, there are very few instances of health de- 
 stroyed by study itself. Too scanty use of water, want of 
 proper exercise, and excess of food, are the chief causes 
 of those morbid affections which trouble zealous scholars. 
 Different temperaments and constitutions demand different 
 treatment, but every one should adapt his regimen to his 
 circumstances. It is preposterous to spend eight or ten 
 hours a day in a library, and live like a ploughman or a 
 courtier. 
 
372 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 A student often complains of an unaccountable dulness, 
 when, with every disposition to apply himself, he can accom- 
 plish nothing, and his brain seems in a fog of confused ideas. 
 Perhaps, on inquiring of his memory, he will be told 
 that for many days past, he has washed only his face 
 and hands, as if the show of cleanliness were the end 
 of it. In such eases, of all remedies for his stupidity, water is 
 the best, especially if he add to it a common compound of oil 
 and alkali, and apply it briskly by an equally common, bristly 
 implement. He will rise from his bath renovated, with a 
 consciousness, next to a good conscience the most happy, of 
 having done his person as much justice as the laundress does 
 his linen, when she plunges not only those parts which will be 
 visible, but the whole, in a capacious vessel,* nor ceases her 
 exertions until the cleansing be thorough and complete. Every 
 pore being thus unclogged, and the action of the skin stimulated, 
 the mind, which was sluggish for want of free breathing, will 
 be cheerful and bright, the fancy active, the reason vigorous, 
 and the judgment clear. He has gained time instead of losing 
 it, by his lustration. The fountain Hippocrene was but twenty 
 stadia from the residence of the Muses.f 
 
 Another serious error is the neglect of physical exercise in 
 a proper degree and kind. A shrewd observer of his country- 
 men has remarked, that Americans work hard only their brains 
 and their stomachs, by which fact he accounts for the attenua- 
 
 * " Labrum si in balineo non est, (fac) ut sit." Cic. Ep. ad Terentiam, 
 
 20. 
 
 t The reader will find this subject admirably treated in a volume on 
 Baths, by an eminent medical authority — Doctor -John Bell, of Phila- 
 delpha, whom the author has the honor to number among his kindest 
 and most valued friends. 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 373 
 
 tion and angularity of form so frequent among us. It is diffi- 
 cult for the student to turn away from his books, when life is 
 so short and science so vast ; but it is poor economy to saA^e a 
 few hours by unfitting ourselves for future exertions. Man y 
 imagine that they do take pains in this respect, though, very 
 often, after the consequences of former neglect have been 
 fastened upon them ; but, even then, the method of exercise 
 is not adapted to the purpose. Sawing wood in a cellar, swing- 
 ing heavy weights in a room, or dragging oneself through 
 long aimless walks, seems rather to fatigue the limbs than 
 agitate the whole system. Besides, the train of thought still 
 goes on, there is nothing in such employment to relieve the 
 mind, and the student returns unrefreshed, even tired, less 
 disposed than before to the task of " taking exercise." Exer- 
 cise, to be of service, must be enjoyed, and to be enjoyed must 
 have some aim, no matter what, so that it be innocent, which will 
 occupy our thoughts pleasantly. There is a most perniciously 
 false public opinion among us, which looks upon athletic amuse- 
 ments as undignified for intellectual men, and almost wicked for 
 clergymen. People would be shocked to see grave black-coated 
 personages engaged, like school-boys, in a game of ball, or 
 contending with each other in pitching quoits ; yet an occasion- 
 al, even frequent, exercise of some such sort, would save many 
 a promising young man from an early tomb, and prolong the 
 usefulness of many prematurely old. " All work and no play," 
 is as poor a maxim for the adult as the child ; it makes the 
 one dull as it does the other ; for we are but " children of a 
 larger growth." Constant sedentariness impaii's the action of 
 mind. Our thoughts become too abstract, unnatural, and often 
 
 32 
 
374 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 gloomy. The brain takes the tone of the stomach. Some 
 starve it, thereby to obviate the necessity of exercise, and grow 
 light-headed or visionary ; others overload it, and grow con- 
 fused, melancholic, or ill-tempered. It has been observed, that 
 wars involving lasting mischief to great nations, have arisen 
 from a ministerial despatch having been written during a fit 
 of indigestion. Dryden's favorite inspiration, when wishing 
 to do better than usual, was a strong saline draught ; and a 
 very eminent English statesman resorted to a similar mode of 
 clearing his head. It is more than probable that hurtful theo- 
 ries are often promulged in books, whose authors labor under 
 similar difficulties without taking means to remove them, which 
 pleasant out-door exercise might do. If so, to abstain from it 
 is a sin against ourselves and the world. 
 
 Here is the secret of that sound, clear-headed vigor, for 
 which Scotch intellect is so notable. The Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge fellows and doctors, seldom stirring beyond the limits 
 of their shaded quadrangles, or moving but in the slow-paced 
 dignity of gown and oflice, reason for the actual world, of 
 which they know little and cannot sympathize with, from 
 mediaeval precedents, or patristical authorities, and turn up 
 their vellum-colored noses at all who will not swear in the 
 words of their masters. The German scholar, scarcely less 
 confined to academic limits, will most likely famish on a biscuit 
 a-day, or gorge himself with sour-crout and black beer, though 
 working two-thirds of the twenty-four hours, the efiects of 
 which, among immense contributions to learning, are seen in 
 thoughts drawn out to their utmost ductility, or in heavy lu- 
 cubrations upon minute particulars. But the Scotch, even 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 375 
 
 when gray with age, lays his volume or pen aside, gladly to 
 join in his ancestral game of golf, or to curl the stone upon 
 the ice, or following the clear stream, to fill his creel with finny 
 spoils ; and returns to his books, sturdy in body and happy in 
 spirit. 
 
 It may not be so with feeble constitutions, but for those in 
 health violent exercise before study is not advisable. The 
 excitement is too high, and the hand trembles as its fingers 
 close upon the pen. Still, occasions should be sought to put 
 every muscle into full ac.ion. Among out-door recreations, 
 none has been a greater favorite with studious men of Great 
 Britain, because none is more suited to quiet habits, fondness 
 for retirement, and love of nature, than angling, not in the 
 sea, but in brooks or rivers, where the genus Salmo abounds. 
 A catalogue of men illustrious in every department of knowl- 
 edge, who have refreshed themselves for farther useful toil by 
 this " gentle art," as its admirers delight to call it, would be 
 very long ; and those who would charge them with trifling, 
 perhaps worse, might, with some modesty, reconsider a cen- 
 sure which must include Izaak Walton, the pious biographer 
 of pious men ; Dry den, Thomson, Wordsworth, and many 
 more among the poets ; Paley, WoUaston, and Nowell, among 
 theologians; Henry Mackenzie (the Man of Feeling), and 
 Professor Wilson, the poet, scholar and essayist ; Sir Humph- 
 rey Davy, author of Salmonia ; Emmerson the geometrician ; 
 Rennie the zoologist ; Chantrey the sculptor, and a host of 
 others, who prove that such a taste is not inconsistent with re- 
 ligion, genius, industry or usefulness to mankind. It has been 
 remarked, that they, who avail themselves of this exercise 
 
376 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 moderately (for as one says, " make not a profession of a re- 
 creation, lest it should bring a cross-wish on the same,"*) and 
 are temperate, attain, generally, an unusual age. Henry Jen- 
 kins lived to a hundred and sixty-nine years, and angled when 
 a score past his century ; Walton died upwards of ninety ; 
 Nowell at ninety-five, and Mackenzie at eighty-six. " Such 
 frequent instances of longevity among anglers," says a writer 
 on the subject, " cannot have been from accident, or from their 
 having originally stronger stamina than other mortals. Their 
 pursuits by the side of running streams, whose motion imparts 
 increased vitality to the air, their exercise regular without 
 being violent, and that composure of mind so necessary to the 
 health of the body, to which this amusement so materially 
 contributes, must all have had an influence upon their physical 
 constitution, the effect of which is seen in the duration of 
 their lives."! 
 
 Studious men, who live in the country, are more advanta- 
 geously situated ; but he, who is pent up in a town, vexed by 
 the excitements of the day, and driven, in spite of himself, to 
 late and irregular hours, could get profit every way, if at 
 times he would seek the purer air, free from the city's smoke, 
 and with his rod as a staff, climb the hills, and ply his quiet 
 art in the brooks that wash the mountain side, or wander 
 through the green valleys, shaded by the willow and the tas- 
 
 * Experienced Angler, by Col. Robert Venables (at one time Com- 
 mander in chief of the Parliamentary forces in Ulster). London, 1662. 
 Chap. X. Obs. 23. 
 
 t Scenes and EecoUections of Fly Fishing, &c., by Stephen Oliver, 
 the Younger, p. 25. 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 377 
 
 selled alder : " Atte the leest," says the Lady Juliana Berners, 
 " he hath his holsome walke and mery at his ease ; a swete 
 ayre of the swete savoure of the meede floures, that makyth 
 hym hungry. He heereth the melodyous armony of fowles. 
 He seeth the yonge swannes, heerons, duckes, cotes, and many 
 other fowles, wyth theyr brodes. And yf he take fysshe ; 
 surely, thenne, is there noo man merier than he is in his 
 spyryte."* Nor should he forget the best of books in his 
 pocket, and a few well-chosen jewels of truth to give away, 
 as he enjoys the simple fare of some upland cottage, or chats 
 with the secluded inmates during the soft twilight, before he 
 asks a blessing upon the household for the night. After a few 
 days of such communion, sihi et Deo, among the pleasant 
 works of his Maker, and a grateful sense of rustic hospitality, 
 he will go home a more healthy man in mind, body and heart 
 This advice is given soberly, earnestly and sonscientiously, as 
 the fruit of experience. If any should follow it, and be af- 
 terwards chided for wasting time by those who prefer dyspep- 
 sia to common sense, let no answer be given. A sour stomach, 
 and, its miserable accompaniment, a sour temper, are their 
 own punishment. 
 
 * JEljc Sreat^se of jJajssijijnfle tugtlj an Stnflle, (attributed, though 
 erroneously, to Dame Julian de Berners, Prioress of Sopewell Nunnery 
 in Herefordshire,) first printed by Wynkyn de Worde in the Boke of 
 St. Albans, 1496, forty-four years before the first classic (Tully's Epis- 
 tles) was printed at Oxford. It was from this treatise that Izaak Wal- 
 ton took the hint and plan for his well known " Complete Angler," a 
 hundred and fifty years later; and, as the editor of Pickering's edition 
 says, " In piety and virtue ; in the inculcation of morality : in an ardent 
 love for the art, and still more in that placid and Christian spirit for 
 which the amiable Walton was so conspicuous, the early writer was 
 scarcely his inferior." 
 
 32* 
 
378 A PLEA FOR STUDY. 
 
 No exercise, however, that a student can use, will counter- 
 act the effects of much animal food. An error of the people 
 in this country, more than in any other civilized part of the 
 globe, is being too carnivorous. Other persons may decide 
 for themselves as they choose, but we should be content with 
 a simple diet, nutritious, yet as little stimulating as possible. 
 The command to Peter : " Kill and eat," is a sufficient refuta- 
 tion of those pretenders to be wise above what is written, who, 
 because their own gastric functions are as weak as their brains, 
 would reduce all men to bran bread and slops ; but meat more 
 than once a day should seldom pass a student's lips, and not 
 much then. According to modern notions, the end of tem- 
 perance is to keep people from getting drunk; the apostle 
 Paul thought it to be, " keeping the body under ;" but what 
 right has he, who eats heartily of meat at breakfast, repeats 
 the enormity at dinner, and again at supper, to expect that his 
 humors will not be thick, his brain muddy, his passions insur- 
 gent, and his ideas gross ; especially, if he sit at his desk for 
 many hours ? This indulgence of appetite is, nine times out 
 of ten, at the bottom of the student's brain fever or disordered 
 digestion. Many commence their studies when past early 
 youth, after having practised some trade or active caUing, and, 
 anxious to overtake time, they devote themselves with unre- 
 mitting zeal to their books, but do not change their habits at 
 table. Nay, not aware that, from sympathy of the stonaach 
 with the brain, mental industry produces a morbid appetite, 
 they eat with increased voracity. Soon their color grows 
 sallow, their shoulders stoop from lassitude, they become ema- 
 ciated and sad, make some sickly efforts to do good, and then 
 
A PLEA FOR STUDY. 379 
 
 creep into an early grave. " Poor fellow ! " exclaim the 
 friendly mourners, " he died a victim of studious zeal." No 
 such thing ! Let the epitaph-maker chisel upon the stone, 
 for the warning of others : " Died of too much meat." 
 
 Nature teaches us better. All summer long she gives us a 
 succession of fresh fruits and vegetables, leaving for our win- 
 ter's store others which last us till summer comes again. The 
 charter to Noah, the wisdom of which we may not doubt, did 
 include animal food ; but we should remember that the diet of 
 man in Paradise and purity, was wholly vegetable. 
 
 This also, if you will take it, is the advice of one who has 
 been himself, for years, a close student, at times an excessive 
 student, and what is most trying of all, a night student ; yet, 
 with a constitution much better fitted to sling a sledge or fol- 
 low a plough, he has never experienced any serious inconve- 
 nience, fairly attributable to study ; which, he thinks, is be- 
 cause, to a very simple and moderate, but not whimsically 
 abstemious, diet, particularly as to the use of animal food. 
 
 Gentlemen, much more might be said in vindication of our 
 pursuits, but it would be unfair to tax your courteous patience 
 any farther. Oui's is indeed a noble calling. All antiquity 
 speaks to us ; let us speak to all posterity. What we have 
 received from God, it would impoverish us to withhold, but 
 will enrich us to impart. Let it be our constant care to culti- 
 vate the best wisdom, that, as we receive light from on high, 
 we may, in our turn, shed the true light upon the world around 
 us. In a little while, the fashions, the riches, the empty 
 pleasures, and the tinsel honors of this life, will have passed 
 away. We can carry with us into eternity nothing, of which 
 
380 A PLEA FOK STUDY. 
 
 the soul is not the treasury. We shall never all meet togeth- 
 er again in this world ; but we shall meet before the Judgment. 
 Then may each of us be able to present, through the Inter- 
 cessor, something done by His grace, worthy of our immortal 
 powers, useful to our fellow-men, and glorifying to our Maker ! 
 God bless you ! 
 
THS CLAIMS OF OUR OOUWTHY OST ITo LITERARY MEN. 
 
 AN ORATION 
 
 BEFORE THE 
 
 Pni BETA KAPPl SOCIETY OF HARVARD UMERSITY, 
 
 JULY 19, 1849. 
 
 (published by request.) 
 
R A T I y .* 
 
 Me. Peesidext A^"T) Ge>t:le3iex of 
 
 The Phi Beta Kappa Societt: 
 The next difficulty, after gaining courage to address so dis- 
 tinguished an assembly, is the choice of a subject The orator's 
 habits may, through your characteristic courtesy, influence 
 his decision ; and as you have laid the honorable appointment 
 upon one who has been consecrated an advocate of Christian 
 morals, you will not be displeased, if his theme should accord 
 with his calling. His task wilL then, be more proportionate 
 to his powers ; for the discovery of truth is seldom a privilege 
 of man, and the illustration of well-known principles in a 
 manner that gives them attractive freshness is an art of rare 
 genius ; but to urge simply, yet earnestly, the motives of duty, 
 is not above the pitch of an ordinary strength. You have. 
 also, gone beyond your own ranks, (every man of which were 
 more worthy of the office.) and commanded the present ser- 
 vice from a stranger of a distant city, nurtured at the bosom 
 of another Alma Mater, who, without a drop of Xew England 
 
 * Some of the main thooghts in this oration were the substance of an 
 oration pronounced by the author before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of 
 Dartmouth College, July, 1848. 
 
384 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 blood in his veins, has httle knowledge of your sectional 
 topics, sympathies, or predilections ; therefore, while deeply 
 grateful for the compliment, he unhesitatingly assumes the full 
 right, which your request implies of speaking as it becomes 
 him before a society of American scholars, fearless of giving 
 offence by a frank utterance of his thoughts, certain of a kindly 
 hearing from those whom talent, cultivated under the best 
 auspices, has made liberal, candid, and considerate. 
 
 The Claims of our Country upon its Literary Men 
 have been often discussed; but the field is so rich, that it may 
 well reward an hour's gleaning, though many strong reapers 
 have gone before. 
 
 Patriotism has been regarded by some as a visionary vir- 
 tue, existing only in boyish dreams, romantic rhapsodies, and 
 declamations of demagogues ; by others it has been denounced 
 as a naiTOW vice, the opposite of Christian philanthropy. The 
 first are at variance with the general sense of mankind; the 
 last, with the moral economy ordained by God. That there 
 are those who, while professing love for their country, would 
 sacrifice its welfare to their selfishness, proves no more than 
 their infirmity or hypocrisy. Human weakness is no argu- 
 ment against the reality of a virtue ; on the contrary, a false 
 pretence of a moral principle testifies to its value, for cunning 
 bad men cloak their evil with the semblance of good. It were 
 mere commonplace of quotation to cite instances showing the 
 power of patriotic sentiment. Every page of history, and of 
 none more than our own, records its courage in conflict, or its 
 devotion under defeat. Poetry, the language which genius 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 385 
 
 gives to the heart, exults with its pride, or saddens with its 
 sorrow. The orator appeals to it, seldom in vain, as among 
 the strongest passions of our nature. The ethical philosopher 
 defines its limits and adjusts its rules. The Holy Scriptures- 
 sanctify it by their infallible authority, when they preserve 
 " for our learning " the mournful elegies of captive Judah^ 
 mingling her tears with the waters of Babylon ; or bid us 
 " Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan him, but weep sore 
 for him who goeth away, for he shall return no more, nor see 
 his native country;" or, above all, exhibit the sympathy of 
 Christ himself, the Divine perfection of humanity, who, on his 
 way to die for the world, paused to lament over Jerusalem, 
 and, as he sent forth the " glad tidings which shall be for all 
 people," commanded that they should be proclaimed first 
 throughout the land of his birth. Nay, amidst the shades of 
 this venerable Academy, where so many mighty spirits have 
 gathered wisdom that they might go out to give their grateful 
 fellow-citizens oracles of far-reaching, conservative, animating 
 counsel, and so many, worthy of their ancestry, are at thi* 
 time refreshing their zeal by the contemplation of such high 
 examples; with the sacred fields round about us on which the 
 proto-martyrs of our country poured forth their blood like 
 water, and in close sight of Bunker's Hill, — who, under the 
 glory of " so great a cloud of witnesses," dares question the 
 reality of a virtue so magnanimous in trial and so grand in 
 successes ? One, who has been a companion and fellow of 
 miscalled politicians, holding the base creed, that offices made 
 for our country's advantage are the legitimate pay of success- 
 ful, because unscrupulous, conspirators, until he has "quite 
 
 33 
 
386 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 lost the divine quality of his first being," may sneer at patriot- 
 ism as a profligate does at conscience, or a wanton at modesty; 
 an atrabilious misanthrope, eager after proofs of human pra- 
 vity, may have no leisure for observing the beautiful work- 
 ings of God within man " both to will and to do of His good 
 pleasure;" a mystical abstractionist, inverting his reason from 
 the actualities of common life, may forget the common feelings 
 of common men ; but a little child, whose heart leaps at the 
 word home, and knows why the cannon roars on the twenty- 
 second of February or the fourth of July, can lead us to a 
 purer, more generous, more uplifting, more philosophical 
 sentiment. 
 
 Love to all men is, indeed, the law of Christianity. God, 
 " who hath made of one blood all the nations of the earth, for 
 to dwell together on the face of the whole earth," never meant 
 that the brotherhood should be broken by territorial bounda- 
 ries, or limited by expedients of trade. Yet none, but those 
 who have gone mad upon remote generalisms and unities, wUl 
 deny that kindred, vicinage, and organized reciprocity impose 
 peculiar obligations. The maxim, that " charity begins at 
 home," though much abused, is true. While God is the great 
 object of all obedience, each man is made the centre of his 
 human relations. His regard for himself is the inspired rule 
 and measure of the regard due from him to his fellows. Next 
 to himself is his household, then the immediate community in 
 which he lives, then his country, then the world. Genuine 
 benevolence is systematically expansive. It is educated in 
 the family for the state, in the state for mankind. A disobe- 
 dient child will not make a good citizen, nor one unfaithful to 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 387 
 
 his countrymen a philanthropist. These affections are con- 
 centric circles, described by the hand of the All-Wise around 
 the heart; nor is it possible for our love to reach the outer, 
 but by overflowing the inner. Hence the mistake of the 
 illogical communist is apparent, when, to realize the idea, 
 truthful in itself, of a universal family, he would destroy the 
 germ from which the grand sociality must spring, and, with it, 
 the household dependencies that teach a mutual well-being, 
 the household needs that urge a combination of effort. We 
 sympathize with him in his aim, but we deny the wisdom of 
 his process. 
 
 For the very reason that these affections are concentric, 
 they never clash. The Divine law, which assumes it to be 
 right that a man should love himself, because he is, under 
 God, the guardian of his own welfare, enjoins upon him love 
 for his neighbor ; and, as the same authoi'ity requires his care 
 for those to whom he is more immediately related in his own 
 Louse, so should he care for his country, which is an enlarge- 
 ment of his home, and for the world, which is the common 
 home of his heavenly Father's human family. But, as self- 
 love becomes sinful selfishness when it prompts a man to war 
 against, or even neglect, his neighbor's good, so does love of 
 country become a vice when it seeks national aggrandizement 
 by injury done the people of other lands. The same rule 
 that measures duty between man and man is equally applica- 
 ble to nations. As an individual is dependent upon his fel- 
 lows, as a community is prosperous through a distribution of 
 labor and a reciprocity of benefits, so must international ex- 
 changes be for the good of each and of all ; and, since it is a 
 
388 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 law of retributive providence, political science should adopt 
 as an axiom, " The liberal deviseth liberal things, and bj libe- 
 ral things shall he stand." 
 
 The nearly synonymous use, in these remarks, of the terms 
 duty and affection has arisen from no confusedness of thought, 
 but from the difficulty, or rather impropriety, of treating them 
 apart from each other. What life is to the animal frame, love 
 is to morals. The anatomist may dissect a dead body, and de- 
 monstrate the functions of each part in the wonderful mecha- 
 nism ; but the tnysterious motive-power, which gave impulse 
 to all, is gone. So the moralist who leaves love out of view, 
 however accurately he may define our relations and deduce 
 rules of conduct, presents us with a cold, inanimate abstrac- 
 tion. Such is not the system of the Bible. There, all duty 
 is comprehended by love. Love is the vital principle of obe- 
 dience to God and of service to man. Reason, unduly lauded 
 as the superior quality of our nature, is, even when embracing 
 by faith " the wisdom from above," valuable only as it ad- 
 vances the development of love towards its heavenly perfec- 
 tion in the likeness of God. Hence, by the Divine arrange- 
 ment, there is for every duty an inspiring affection. The love 
 of parents for their child precedes proof of parental obligation ; 
 the love of a child for its parents is the stem on which filial 
 duty must be grafted. Omniscient grace exhibits the forgive- 
 ness of God, " that he may be feared ;" and constrains us from 
 sin to the love of Christ, by " shedding his love abroad in our 
 hearts ;" because, " if Ave love him, we shall keep his com- 
 mandments." Thus love of country is first called forth by the 
 power of association over our natural sensibilities. As a babe 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 389 
 
 learns to love the face which smiles kindly on him, the voice 
 which gently soothes him, the bosom which yields him suste- 
 nance, the clasping arm which embraces him, so do we love 
 the scenes about our early home, the haunts of familiar and 
 friendly intercourse, the fields which give us bread. They 
 may be rugged and unattractive to a stranger's eye, but the 
 heart radiates over them its own beauty. His icy plains are 
 as dear to the hyperborean as the Alpine valley to the Swiss, 
 or the vine-clad hills, laughing shore, and purple sea to the 
 Italian. Then, as reason expands, the love expands. We 
 learn to love the people whose welfare is united with our own, 
 and the soil held in common with them ; to cherish the gov- 
 ernment whose laws afford us protection ; or, if it be tyranni- 
 cal, to struggle for a better, and to die rather than suffer for- 
 eign domination. Yet, though rational self-interest should 
 enhance the affection, it is not, of itself, a sufficient principle of 
 duty ; for, if we consider only the profit which our country 
 brings us, we shall serve it only so far as the service is profit- 
 able. Love is the strength of patriotism ; for love alone is 
 capable of that unhesitating, self-sacrificing devotion which 
 seeks reward in our country's honor, holding fortune, ease, 
 and life, as our country's fathers held them, cheap for its sake. 
 Nor can we doubt that a sentiment so natural, so generous, so 
 energetic, divinely indicates a corresponding obligation; or 
 that unfaithfulness to our country is unfaithfulness to God. 
 
 This brief reasoning may seem unnecessary, and it would 
 
 be, were it not for a disposition, too often shown by some 
 
 claiming superior refinement, to treat patriotism as, at best, a 
 
 weakness of the vulgar, forgetting that many of what are call- 
 
 33* 
 
390 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 ed weaknesses belong to the best parts of humanity. Like 
 the early, fragrant blossoms of the vine, they promise fruits of 
 active usefulness; or, like its slight, graceful tendrils, they 
 twine our pliant infirmity around the upright strength of as- 
 certained rule. The spirit of patriotism has also decayed 
 among our people generally. Vain and boastful as we have 
 been said to be, it is only in the United States of America 
 that you can hear natives speaking contemptuously of their 
 country. Some causes for this may be discerned. The im- 
 mense extent of our country, our allegiance to which passes 
 through our allegiance to our several States, whose rights 
 must be watchfully guarded ; the consequent variety of pro- 
 ducts and circumstances, creating a supposed, but not real, op- 
 position of interests ; the very greatness and unprecedented 
 progress of our prosperity, allowing no salutary lessons from 
 grave adversity ; the licentiousness of party rancor, stimulated 
 far more by the cupidity of profligate office-seekers than by 
 any substantial difference of political doctrine ; the inability of 
 the less educated or less gifted to look over the vast field, and 
 comprehend the stretch of their personal responsibility ; the 
 too general aversion of the good and wise to meddle with can- 
 vasses made purposely annoying by gross demagogues, who, 
 Aristophanes tells us, are like the eel-fishers of the Copai's, 
 that do best in dirty waters ;* — all these have a tendency to 
 cool down our ardor to a more latent heat ; but above all, the 
 remoteness of other countries, which renders less noticeable 
 
 * "Oirep yap ol rug eyx£^£i5 ■QrjpufievoL TT(TTOi>-&ag. 
 "Orav fiev rj Xi/uv?} Karaary, T^afifiuvovaiv ov6ev • 
 'Euv 6' uvu TS Kal kutotov (Sopfiopov hvkuolv, 
 kipovai. innHS, 864—867. 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 391 
 
 the contrast of our unequalled privileges. "We see the evUs 
 that exist among ourselves, and feel what Locke calls our 
 " present uneasiness," while we admire what appears desira- 
 ble abroad under the " enchantment " of distance. Besides 
 our Anglo-Saxon blood, though tempered by alternating ex- 
 tremes of heat and cold, retains its propensity to quarrel and 
 (pardon the rude English, — no other language supplies us 
 with a synonyme) to grumble ; so, having none else to quar- 
 rel with, nothing else to grumble at, we vent our hereditary 
 spleen upon ourselves and our government. In a word, we 
 lack a proper degree of loyalty. 
 
 Loyalty is the very term to describe the sentiment that cor- 
 dially acknowledges the claims of our nation upon our love 
 and service. It has indeed signified, almost exclusively, the 
 fidelity of a subject to his prince ; nor, though, from our po- 
 litical habits, we cannot comprehend the feeling, can we help 
 admiring the many instances of heroic valor, patient constan- 
 cy, disregard of loss or suffering, and zeal through good or 
 evil fortunes, which such attachment has prompted. Yet, 
 though the principle has undoubtedly come down from those 
 early times when the patriarch was the chief of his tribe, its 
 more modern name is clearly derived from considering the 
 monarch as the head of the State, because the representative 
 of the incorpot-ating law. To uphold the authority of him 
 who sat upon the throne, because it was necessary for the sta- 
 bility of government and the safety of the people, became a 
 virtue as well as a policy ; yet, (such is our nature,) through 
 the force of association, the person of the reigning prince grew 
 to be so sacred, that it often attracted and absorbed the horn- 
 
392 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 age due him only in his official character ; and history tells us 
 of men clinging desperately to the anointed fool who sported 
 with their destinies, the priest-ridden bigot who persecuted 
 their religion, and the licentious tyrant who preyed upon their 
 substance or wasted their lives. 
 
 Loyalty, with us, is more agreeable to the etymology of the 
 term. It is a reverent attachment to law emanating from the 
 people according to the Constitution. Our magistrates, it is 
 true, are, during their term of office, representatives of the 
 law, and, as such, should receive our venerating obedience ; 
 nay, very grave must be the provocation, before we 
 
 " 'bate 
 The place its honor for the holder's sake ;" 
 
 but our loyalty cannot be given to them, because they are the 
 creatures of the popular will. Our only sovereign, under 
 God, is the people acting legally; and to them, while just in 
 the exercise of their constitutional sovereignty, is due that 
 fealty, which political propriety, with the Word of God, com- 
 mands from us to "the higher powers" of the land. Hence, 
 the loyalty of an American citizen is of a more intellectual 
 character, and, therefore, more difficult to be maintained. 
 The person of a king is a visible, tangible object, and men can 
 regard him as a man ; but our people are such an immense 
 multitude, that it is not easy to regard them in their aggregate 
 capacity, except as a theoretical idea ; though, truly, the king 
 is the figment, the people the substantial reality. The will 
 of a monarch comes down upon his subjects from a height 
 which long prescription has taught them to consider the source 
 
ON ITS LITEBART MEN. 393 
 
 of law; the will of our people ascends through their ballots, 
 and, when justified by the national compact, becomes the law, 
 which, by the same compact, we are bound loyally to obey. 
 But in the formation of this law, each citizen, as a constituent 
 part of the legislating people, has a share ; so that, as far as 
 his vote has effect, he is his own sovereign and a law unto 
 himself. The law is the result of the general suffrage, per- 
 haps of long discussion, angry dispute, and a small majority. 
 The ballot-box, like a mighty crucible, fuses together the con- 
 flicting prejudices, sectional jealousies, antagonist opinions, 
 and rival aims, which move the millions acting their several 
 parts within the vast republic. It is, therefore, not easy to 
 hush the passions which have stirred us during the exercise 
 of our elective right ; to acknowledge with due submission 
 the supremacy of the general over the individual will ; to own 
 the rule of those who, though the majority, we believe are in 
 the wrong ; to respect and love (ay, love, for without respect 
 and love there is no loyalty) the .people whose errors we see, 
 whose faults we condemn, whose policy we dread. Still, such 
 loyalty must be cherished, or our Union, now moving in har- 
 mony, like the heavenly orbs, by the nice balance of its cen- 
 trifugal and centripetal forces, would soon become a chaos of 
 fragments wild, jostling, and mutually destructive. 
 
 Why should not such loyalty be cherished ? Will not the 
 issue of our ballot-box come nearer the right than the will of 
 a crowned despot, or of an hereditary nobility, or of any 
 privileged class ? Plas history shown the world so well gov- 
 erned by the autocrat or the few, the happiness of the many 
 so cared for by those who held themselves above and not of 
 
394 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTET 
 
 them ; has political virtue so run in the line of legitimacy, or 
 political wisdom so been the consequence of high birth, that, 
 for some slight mistakes or even disastrous failures, Ave should 
 abandon our popular system to adopt any other ? On the 
 contrary, has not experience proved the safety and self-per- 
 petuating energy of our institutions ? When our national 
 government was formed, how many scornful voices in the 
 Old World confidently prophesied its speedy downfall, from 
 the alleged want of elemental adhesiveness ! Yet, short as 
 our history is, our system has survived most of the European 
 governments, and, as the signs of the times strongly indicate, 
 may, at no very distant date, outlast them all ; except, per- 
 chance, our sister republics of the Swiss, which, now seven 
 hundred years old, tower, like the Alps, above the prostrate or 
 shaking thrones around them. How often, as this party or 
 the other came uppermost, have the disappointed leaders rent 
 their clothes, and, with ashes on their heads, howled dolefully 
 over the land, that our ruin was nigh, that our commerce 
 would be destroyed, our manufactures crushed, or our agricul- 
 ture impoverished ! Yet, notwithstanding the mischievous 
 vacillations of our economical policy, where, a few years since, 
 there was one ship, there is now a fleet of merchantmen ; 
 single manufactories have grown into prosperous cities ; there 
 is scarcely a farmer in the old States, who has not pulled down 
 his house and barns to build better and larger ; while, in the 
 new, the virgin forests have gone down to let the sunshine 
 smile upon fields of plenty so rich and vast that their statistics 
 almost stagger belief We are but seventy-three years old, 
 yet our States are thirty where there were thirteen ; nor can 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 395 
 
 any one, who candidly compares the two periods, deny that 
 we have grown more united as our millions have multiplied, 
 and more consolidated as our territory has expanded, until 
 our Constitution, like a noble arch, stronger by every fresh 
 weight imposed upon it, now upholds in a prosperity unexam- 
 pled an area equal to the continent of Europe. 
 
 There are, doubtless, diflferences of opinion respecting some 
 of the steps by which these results have been attained ; but it 
 is only with things as they are, or promise to be, that our 
 present reasoning is concerned. In the year 1824, the Ora- 
 tion was pronounced before you by a gentleman then not un- 
 known to fame as an accomplished scholar, but since eminently 
 distinguished as the erudite statesman of whose eloquent 
 power Massachusetts has been justly very proud, as the digni- 
 fied representative of American culture while diplomatically 
 representing the United States at the first court of Europe, 
 and (not the least of his well-merited honors) as the head of 
 your great University. His discourse then was fervid with 
 patriotic hopes, and demonstratively prescient of our country's 
 rapid advancement ; but how must his generous heart rejoice 
 to see that the accomplished reality has far transcended his 
 warmest anticipations ! Indeed, the aim of the address you 
 are now hearing so patiently is humbly to follow out, through 
 the accumulated facts of 1849, some of the thoughts with 
 which he stirred our youthful ambition twenty-five years 
 ago. 
 
 That there are portentous evils existing among us, national 
 crimes provoking the wrath of Heaven, practices widely in- 
 consistent with the just theory of equality which we avow, 
 
396 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 and fearful perils to be met at no very distant day, it were 
 folly to deny ; but let us remember that everything human is 
 necessarily imperfect, that Heaven, while condemning sin, is 
 mercifully patient with the infirmities of the sinner, and that 
 reform is arduously slow, as vice is precipitant. Instead of 
 desponding because all we desire has not been done, we should 
 be highly encouraged by the achievement of so much. Cer- 
 tainly, no people ever made such growth in wealth, arts, gen- 
 eral knowledge, and, considering all the circumstances, social 
 virtues. The large scope given to expression of thought, and 
 the multiplying opportunities of moral influence, have already 
 wrought most salutary changes of public sentiment on impor- 
 tant subjects. The triumph of truth with the prevalence of 
 right, though delayed, is certain, and, when gained, will be 
 permanent. Let us, then, not heed the murmurs of the self- 
 conceited dogmatist because his opinion is not the pivot on 
 which the nation swings ; of the sordid gain-seeker, who would 
 turn the country's force to enhance the profits of his ship or 
 his furnace, his cotton-plant or his spindle ; or of the fanatic 
 nuUifier, of whatever latitude, who would sever his State or 
 his section from such a league of powerful coadjutants, to 
 dwindle in puny isolation. Thank God, the Samson is not, 
 never will be, born, who can pull down our glorious edifice for 
 the silly gratification of breaking his own pate ! One honest 
 American woman's scissors ai'e more than a match for all the 
 strength such heads can wear. 
 
 Our people deserve our trust. Far and wide as they have 
 stretched themselves, they hold one political faith. The new 
 States, allowing for the difference of period and circumstan- 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 397 
 
 ces, are but repetitions of the old thii-teen. At this time of 
 nearly universal uprising and struggles for reform elsewhere, 
 we present to the world the unprecedented spectacle of unani- 
 mous satisfaction with the system of government established 
 by our national fathers. Within the past and the coming- 
 years, there will have gone from among us, lured by the hope 
 of golden rewards, to our new territory on the Pacific, num- 
 bers, principally of hardy, well-taught, determined young men^ 
 equalling the population of an entire State; an instance un- 
 paralleled throughout the history of emigration ; yet no one 
 doubts that they will choose for themselves the same forms of 
 government under which they have been educated, or that 
 they will cordially maintain their allegiance to the Union. A 
 citizen of the United States cannot imagine the possibility of 
 living in happiness under any other system ; and now, when 
 contemplating the efforts of distant nations, sprung from the 
 same loins that we are, for the establishment of constitutional 
 freedom, we estimate their chances of permanent success by 
 their approach in forms to our own, in spirit to ourselves.. 
 Nor have we been inconsistent with our professions ; for, 
 whatever has been the decree of the ever-shifting majority^ 
 submission to law, and reliance upon the constitutional meth- 
 ods of correcting error, have steadily prevailed. At least, the 
 exceptions have been too inconsiderable to impair the rule, 
 and were speedily settled. Wonderful as was the revolution 
 which made the colonies free, independent, confederate States, 
 every national exercise of the elective right is, though on dif- 
 ferent grounds, worthy of equal admiration. We change our 
 national rulers, and, with them, our national policy ; yet, from 
 34 
 
398 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 one end of the country to the other, there is less riot than in 
 England at the election of a member of Parliament. Nor 
 can the most inveterate laudator temporis acti, who has read 
 the newspapers published at the time of the earlier contests, 
 deny that each general election is better conducted than were 
 those before. 
 
 We are emphatically one people. The constant and ex- 
 panding flood of emigrants from less favored lands gives in 
 some sections a temporary, superficial diversity of customs, 
 and even of language. Yet, as tbey come moved by an ad- 
 miring wish to share our privileges, and a grateful respect for 
 the nation which has made itself so prosperous, while it sets 
 open its gates so hospitably wide, they readily adopt our usa- 
 ges, and soon become homogeneous with the mass through 
 which they are distributed. Until they or their children are 
 educated in free citizenship, they follow ; but rarely, and then 
 never successfully, attempt to lead. As the Anglo-Saxon 
 tongue is the speech of the nation, so it is the Anglo-Saxon 
 mind that rules. The sons of those who triumphed in the 
 war of Independence have subdued the distant forest, making 
 the wilderness to rejoice with the arts and virtues of their 
 fathers. The patronymics borne by the most influential among 
 them are most frequently such as are familiar and honorable 
 among us. Summon together the dwellers in any town of 
 our older, particularly of our more northern, States, and you 
 will find that there is scarcely a State of the Union where 
 they have not relatives. The representative in Congress 
 from the farthest West laughs over their school-boy frolics 
 with the representative of the farthest East. The woodsman 
 
OK ITS LITERARY MEK. 3»9 
 
 on the Aroostook talks of his brother on the Rio Grande ; 
 the tradesman in the seaport, of his son, a judge, in Missouri. 
 The true-hearted girl, who has left her mountain birth-place 
 to earn her modest paraphernalia amidst the ponderous din of 
 a factor}' near the Atlantic coast, dreams sweetly on her toil- 
 blest pillow of him who, for her dear sake, is clearing a home 
 in the wilds of Iowa, or sifting the sands of some Californian 
 Pactolus. We all claim a common history, and, whatever be 
 our immediate parentage, are proud to own ourselves the 
 grateful children of the mighty men who declared our coun- 
 try's independence, framed the bond of our Union, and bought 
 with their sacred blood the liberties we enjoy. Nor is it an 
 insincere compliment to assert, that, go where you will. New 
 England is represented by the shrewdest, the most enlight- 
 ened, the most successful, and the most religious of our young 
 population. Nearly all our teachers, with the authors of our 
 school-books, and a very large proportion of our preachers, as 
 well as of our editors, (the classes which have the greatest 
 control over the growing character of our youth,) come from 
 or receive their education in. New England. Wherever the 
 New Englander goes, he carries New England with him. 
 New England is his boast, his standard of perfection, and " So 
 they do in New England ! " his confident answer to all ob- 
 jectors. Great as is our reverence for those venerable men, 
 he rather wearies us with his inexhaustible eulogy on the 
 Pilgrim Fathers, who, he seems to think, have begotten the 
 whole United States. Nay, enlarging upon the somewhat 
 complacent notion of his ancestors, that God designed for 
 them, " his chosen people," this Canaan of the aboriginal 
 
400 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 heathen, he looks upon the continent as his rightful heritage, 
 and upon the rest of us as Hittites, Jebusites, or people of a 
 like termination, whom he is commissioned to root out, ac- 
 quiring our money, squatting on our wild lands, monopolizing 
 our votes, and marrying our heiresses. Whence, or how 
 justly, he derived his popular sobriquet, passes the guess of an 
 antiquary ; but certain it is, that, if he meets with a David, 
 the son of Jesse has often to take up the lament in a different 
 sense from the original, — "I am distressed for thee, my 
 Brother Jonathan ! " Better still, his sisters, nieces, female 
 cousins, flock on various honorable pretexts to visit him amidst 
 his new possessions, where they own with no Sabine reluc- 
 tance the constraining ardor of our unsophisticated chivalry ; 
 and happy is the household over which a New England wife 
 presides ! blessed the child whose cradle is rocked by the 
 hand, whose slumber is hallowed by the prayers of a New 
 England mother I The order of the Roman policy is re- 
 versed. He conquered, and then inhabited ; the New Eng- 
 lander inhabits, then gains the mastery, not by force of arms, 
 but by mother-wit, steadiness, and thrift. That there should 
 be', among us of the other races, a little occasional petulance, 
 is not to be wondered at ; but it is only superficial. The 
 New Englander goes forth not as a spy or an enemy, and the 
 gifts which he carries excite gratitude, not fear. He soon 
 becomes identified with his neighbors, their interests are soon 
 his, and the benefits of his enterprising cleverness swell the 
 advantage of the community where he has planted himself, 
 thus tending to produce a moral homogeneousness throughout 
 the confederacy. Yet let it be remembered that this New 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 
 
 m 
 
 England influence, diffusing itself, like noiseless but trans- 
 forming leaven, through the recent and future States, while it 
 makes them precious as allies, would also make them formi- 
 dable as rivals, terrible as enemies. The New Englander 
 loses little of his main characteristics by migration. He is as 
 shrewd, though not necessarily as economical, a calculator in 
 the Valley of the Mississippi, as his brethren in the East, and 
 as brave as his fathers were at Lexington or Charlestown. 
 It were the height of suicidal folly for the people of the mari- 
 time States to attempt holding as subjects or tributaries, di- 
 rectly or indirectly, the people between the Alleghanies and 
 the Rocky Mountains ; but those who have not travelled 
 among our prairie and forest settlements can have only a faint 
 idea of the filial reverence, the deferential respect, the yearn- 
 ing love, with which they turn to the land where their fathers 
 sleep, and to you who guard their sepulchres. The soul 
 knows nothing of distance ; and, in their twilight musings, 
 they can scarcely tell which is dearer to their hearts, — the 
 home of the kindred they have left behind them, or the home 
 they have won for their offspring. Be it your anxious care, 
 intelligent gentlemen of New England, that so strong a bond 
 is never strained to rupture ! 
 
 Variety of climate, of soil and position, must make variety 
 in pursuits of life and habits of thought. The energy of our 
 national character in various departments of productive skill 
 (the relations of which to each other are, as yet, not generally 
 well understood) must excite competition, perhaps some jeal- 
 ousy. Nor can all be expected to think alike on many ques- 
 tions of national policy. Ou the other hand, Providence has 
 
 34* 
 
402 THE CLAIMS OP OUR COUNTRY 
 
 SO wisely distributed its blessings, tbat we may not choose but 
 to be mutually dependent. The products of our immense in- 
 land territory must find vent for the surplus through the ports 
 of the seaboard, through which, again, must come the luxuries 
 or necessaries we require from abroad. The agricultural 
 States offer the best markets for the manufactures of those 
 whose soil is less fertile, yet dearer, and labor more abundant ; 
 while these, in their turn, are rewarded with plenty of bread- 
 stuffs and other provision. Iron, lead, coal, copper, goldpass 
 each other on their way to distant localities. There are no 
 empty return-wagons, rail-cars, or coasting vessels ; each car- 
 ries back wealth purchased by the wealth which it brought. 
 Our immense lakes, with ther rich teeming borders thousands 
 of miles about, act like inner impelling arteries to the trade of 
 tLe whole country. Our great navigable rivers, with their 
 numerous tributaries, ramify, like veins, for the circulation of 
 a common life through leagues none pretends to count, and 
 millions whose increase none dares to guess. Nay, by the 
 wonderful inventions of recent years, we are no longer depen- 
 dent upon the watery ways of nature, and wellnigh annihilate 
 distance. On the wings of steam, the population and wealth 
 of whole towns may speed, swifter than a bird, along the roads 
 which, binding us together by iron sinews, pierce mountains, 
 fipan valleys, and measure the continuous level by minutes, 
 not miles, so that we say, " How long ?" instead of" How far ?" 
 The slender wires, now stretching like network over the land, 
 quickly as living nerves, thrill thought and feeling between 
 correspondents the most remote. And, by the admirable 
 working of our confederate unity, is felt through all, like the 
 
ON ITS LITERAKY MEN. 403 
 
 beating of a central heart, the power of one national will. In 
 a word, we realize more fully than Rome, with its Senate and 
 Plehs, could do, the fable of old Menenius Agrippa, and are 
 as virtually connected as the several parts of the human anat- 
 omy, — " that there may be no schism in the body, but that 
 the members should have the same care one for another ; and 
 whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it, or 
 one member be honored, all the members rejoice with it." 
 
 Suppose, for one melancholy moment, that this healthful 
 economy of exchanges were broken up, — that the Western 
 valley were shut out from the sea by adverse governmeutsj 
 — that those on the coast were hemmed in to their own nar- 
 row limits by hostile forts along the mountain ridges, — that 
 between the North and the South there were neither commer- 
 cial nor moral sympathy, — that at every State line passports 
 were demanded and a tariff set ; — who must not shrink from 
 describing the terrible consequences ; the stagnation of trade ; 
 the silence of brotherly counsel : the constant feuds ; the mul- 
 tiplication of armies ; the Cain-like, exterminating wars ; the 
 overthrow of law by military dictators ; the utter ruin of all 
 that makes us prosperous at home and respected abroad ; the 
 sure catastrophe, moral and national death ? O that those, 
 who, for any reason, talk lightly of dissolving this Union, would 
 consider the immensely greater evils such a rupture would 
 inevitably cause, the awful guilt it would bring upon them- 
 selves ! Whatever may be the cant of words, no lover of law 
 could ever kindle the torch of such incendiarism, no lover of 
 peace provoke such fratricidal slaughter, no lover of freedom 
 plot for such general slavery, no lover of God and man under- 
 
404 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 mine the eminent watch-tower whose light is now shedding 
 over the world such bright promise of a universal brotherhood. 
 Were it possible that an American womb could be so cursed 
 as to bring forth so diabolical a monster, and the malignant 
 Erostratus could be successful, a loud, bitter, heaven-compel- 
 ling cry would go up from all the earth, swelled by generation 
 after generation, until the final fires shall have swept to hell 
 all trace of human crimes ; " Anathema ! Anathema ! Anath- 
 ema Maranatha!" 
 
 We ought, it is true, to have little fear of our being over- 
 taken by so terrible a calamity ; but our courage can rationally 
 be derived, under God, only from a warranted confidence in 
 our people, that they will have sense enough, probity enough, 
 religion enough, to pursue the conduct upon which the per- 
 manence of our welfare depends. For these reasons, this 
 feeble but earnest voice calls upon you, gentlemen, and, so far 
 as it can reach, upon literary men throughout the country, to 
 exert, by the many legitimate means at hand, the vast influ- 
 ence Providence has intrusted us with, for the cultivation 6f a 
 high, generous, unsectional patriotism ; a patriotism whose 
 rule can be best given in the immortal words of one who, more 
 than once, has upborne on his Atlantic shoulders, safe through 
 perils, the sphere of the Constitution : " Our country, our whole 
 country, and our country as one !" 
 
 God has not given us talents, and permitted us to cultivate 
 them, that they may be terminated upon ourselves. Fasci- 
 nating as the charms of study are, and delightful the calm, 
 secluded hours in which we hold converse with the philoso- 
 pher, the poet, the orator, and the historian, made immortal 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 405 
 
 by their pages ; and unwilling as we may be to tear ourselves 
 away from pleasures so exquisite, for any living society or 
 engagements of the outer world, neither the law of our Cre- 
 ator, nor the urgencies of the times, permit such luxurious 
 self-indulgence. Thought, truthful, clear, and argumentative 
 of good deeds, is an oracle from heaven ; eloquence, whether 
 of the voice or of the pen, comes from a divine afflatus ; and 
 woe, woe, in this world and in the next, to that man whom 
 God has thus ordained his prophet, if he utters not, or if he 
 perverts, the revelation ! Study, when not directed to useful 
 ends, becomes a vice; and superior knowledge makes us more 
 guilty than our fellow-men, if we offer them no share in our 
 acquisitions. Yes! far more worthy of thanks from man, and 
 of reward from God, is the digger of the ditch that drains the 
 marsh, the hewer of the wood that warms a dwelling, the 
 veriest menial that serves our necessities, than the scholar 
 who refuses his enlarged powers to the benefit of his race, — 
 who distinguishes with more than Hermaic subtilty between 
 " the Me " and the " not Me," yet neglects the actual morals 
 around him, — who would sing solitarily his own pumice-worn 
 numbers, self-charmed by their Attic purity, though the city 
 were burning, — who intent over his problem, cares not that 
 an enemy has forced the gates, — or who exhausts upon the 
 particles of a dead language an energy which might save im- 
 mortal souls ! 
 
 Your candor, gentlemen, will interpret these remarks, not 
 as disrespectful to learning, (which would be sacrilege on an 
 occasion like this,) but as hortatory to its proper use, and as 
 dissuasive from a selfishness more refined, yet scarcely less 
 
406 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 guilty than the hoarding of a miser. EiTor is never idle, 
 never uncommunicative, but, like its malignant father, goes 
 pestilently about to corrupt human happiness. Ignorance is 
 never idle, but rushes on from blind impulse, often the more 
 mischievous when honest, because superstition, prejudice, or 
 fanaticism, inspires it with the strength of conscience. Mind 
 will be active, the moral being will be busy ; and if they who 
 have the skill direct not its force to good, it will be working 
 evil. It is the plan of God, " the Father of lights," — Pat&r 
 ipse colendi, — that men shall be regenerated and sanctified 
 by truth, — truth communicated through the instrumentality 
 of men whom he calls to work with himself, — truth, the pro- 
 per, sole medium of his omnipotent rule over the freedom of 
 his rational creatures. We are, therefore, verily faithless to 
 God and dishonest towards men, if we bury his gift, which, 
 through a zealous usury, might make many rich, or hide the 
 light which he has kindled in our souls for the scattering of 
 darkness around us. Yes ! the miser who hoards gold is des- 
 picable, yet he withdraws only a temporary convenience ; the 
 speculator, who stores away bread in time of famine, makes 
 gain of mortal suffering; the skilful physician, who, from cow- 
 ardice or love of ease, attempts not the rescue of his neighbors 
 sick of a plague, is negatively a murderer; but he who knows 
 truth and the method of imparting it, yet keeps it back, se- 
 cretes the riches of eternity, the food of immortal spirits, the 
 sure, only remedy of all human woe. 
 
 The lessons of the abstract, when apprehended aright, tend 
 steadily to the practical. Our researches as scholars are in 
 the past, but our business is in the present and the future. 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 407 
 
 And what an unprecedented field does our present and future 
 open to the philanthropic exertions of intellectual men ! Hu- 
 man nature is ever radically the same. That as yet anony- 
 mous science which concerns the knowledge of human nature 
 has few fundamental axioms. Solomon wrote proverbs for 
 all ages. The characters of Tacitus transmigrate through all 
 generations. But the developments, the combinations and 
 phases of human action, in these times, are unexampled. The 
 labyrinth has become so complicated, that our hand cannot 
 securely grasp the ball of the clew. Zeno himself could not 
 keep cool amidst such universal, multiform, constant excite- 
 ment. Once, a few thought, and still fewer led; now, all 
 think, and none are willing to follow. Mountains, seas, diver- 
 sities of language, hereditary enmities of races, scarcely retard 
 the revolutionary contagion. Armies receive the command 
 to "charge!" — they obey; but first come "right about face," 
 and rout with their bayonets Vetat major. Bulls, whose roar 
 once shook terribly the earth like one wide Bashan, now wail 
 plaintively and feebly as a famishing calf outside the gate of 
 its paddock. The pawns toss kings and queens, knights, bish- 
 ops, and rookish nobles from the board, to play out the game 
 among themselves. Constitutions are woven in a night, and 
 are swept away like cobwebs by the morning broom. Rulers 
 and ministries treat oaths as lightly as do smugglers in a cus- 
 tom-house. The giant, MAN, long crushed by usurpers of 
 divine right, is flinging off the ^tna from his mangled breast. 
 His limbs are not yet drawn from under the quaking, groan- 
 ing, fire-spouting mass ; but he is sure to rise. He will reel 
 blindly, at first, from inveterate weakness of limb, his head 
 
408 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COTTNTET 
 
 dizzy with his new uprightness ; his enemies will hurl on him 
 their frightened vengeance ; he will stagger, stumble, fall ; 
 but, gaining strength eacli time he presses the bosom of his 
 mother earth, he will gather himself up, drive opposing pow- 
 ers irrevocably back to more than Egyptian darkness, and 
 stride triumphantly forwards until he reaches the goal which 
 the good God has promised him, — consummate freedom, hap- 
 piness undefiled, imperishable dignity in the Divine image. 
 The truth of a liberated Gospel will dissipate his errors, as 
 Minerva did the mists from the eyes of Diomed, and the noble 
 prophecy of the Tusculan be fulfilled : " Perfecta mens, id est 
 absoluta ratio, quod est idem virtus." 
 
 Such is the agitated, hopeful world, and such the crisis of 
 its changes in which we are called to labor ; but our immedi- 
 ate sphere is our own country, the sphere where our zeal will 
 tell most effectively on the destinies of mankind. The exam- 
 ple of our national character, developed by our liberal institu- 
 tions, has, more than all other causes combined, waked up the 
 spirit of the Old World. The radiance of our well-adjusted 
 freedom is melting away the icy fetters that have, from time 
 immemorial, frozen to moral numbness the larger portion of 
 Continental Europe. The name of America sounds like that 
 of heaven on earth to the voluntary exiles who leave their 
 fatherlands in the confidence of finding, for themselves and 
 their children, a better country, fulness of bread, and the 
 rights of their own sweat. The eyes of their kindred follow 
 them to our shores. The news of our advancement, our state 
 papers, the issues of our unshackled press, go back, despite of 
 the keenest surveillance, with their endorsement to their native 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 4U9 
 
 hamlets. Political philosophers and ardent philanthropists 
 come westward, that they may study our recent but vigorous 
 systems, as the Greek once went to the older land of the Nile. 
 A strong word, distinctly spoken here, echoes through hut and 
 palace, cabinet and camp, of distant but anxious listeners. O, 
 then, let us work now, that we may work for the stupendous 
 future; let us work for our country, that we may benefit the 
 world ! 
 
 There are those who will turn away in disgust, sallow and 
 smoke-dried as a mediaeval legend, from these exhortations to 
 the present and future, as from the ravings of an upset- 
 ting radical; — men, so oppugnant in their mental temper, 
 that they can never think out of an antithesis to common 
 sense, counting it glory when they deny the obvious and ad- 
 vocate the exploded, — or who, shuddering, without faith in 
 the Presiding Spirit, at the friction, the order-working friction, 
 of conflicting opinions, imagine that chaos is come again, and 
 grasp, like drowning swimmers, at any floating fragment of 
 precedent or authority. There is a fashion (for fashion dresses 
 the inside as well as the outside of the head) of' tergiversant 
 sentimentality, a sombre affectation, which looks back admi- 
 ringly and regretfully upon the middle centuries, as Lot's wife 
 would have looked upon the Dead Sea, had she survived till 
 the next morning; whining "like a sick girl" over the sturdy 
 plainness, the prosaic directness, the unpoetical utilitarianism, 
 of our modern republican ways ; sighing for the priestly 
 pomps, the brilliant chivalry, the royal stateliness of feudal 
 times, when portly abbots locked up the rare Bible, but doled 
 fragments of the monkish feasts to the ragged, kneeling, cruci- 
 35 
 
410 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 signing rabble of pilgrims at the refectory gate ; or the letter- 
 less vassal tilled the soil for his lord's profit, fought in his 
 lord's quarrel, and held his life by his lord's caprice. Shocked 
 at the crowding of the vulgar many into the very penetralia 
 of knowledge and social amenities, these resurrectionists of 
 mortified deformity shudder at the scream of a locomotive as 
 though it were a fiery dragon, while there is no Saint George 
 to meet its fury ; the hum of machinery threatens them with 
 a moral earthquake ; and a primary school they regard as a 
 nursery of precocious conspirators against prescribed faith 
 and stagnant order. The evil spares nothing it can reach. 
 The delicious, dreamy seat, to whose undulating excellence 
 Boston had the honor of giving invention and a name, is 
 thrust aside for a high, straight-backed chair of torture, after 
 an Elizabethan pattern of old-maidish prudery ; nor can we 
 approach our nightly resting-place without danger of being 
 knocked on the head by some Gothic hobgoblin. Our fairest 
 books and their delicate etchings are overlaid by facsimiles of 
 illuminated parchments, on whose pages a clumsy-fingered 
 cenobite has plastered rickety angels and epileptic martyrs, 
 in patches of coarse gold-leaf, staring azure, and red lead. * 
 Nay, you may see our own poets set forth with such barbaric 
 embellishment, in which they figure as appropriately as Piers 
 Ploughman would in gaiter-boots, or Juliana Berners in a 
 Jermy-Lind. Head-men of parishes are ridden by architec- 
 tural nightmare, until the white, airy, clap-boarded meeting- 
 house, where their fathers worshipped God in the simple Man 
 
 * Minium, red oxide of lead, was much used in the embellishment of 
 manuscripts. Hence miniatores, and, as some think, illumination. 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 411 
 
 of Nazareth, gives place to a low-eaved, steep-roofed, cold, 
 damp, rough-stone barn, in which the preacher's voice is lost 
 among the groined rafters, and his people cannot see to read 
 his text by the dim light that comes through painted, lanceo- 
 lated windows, streaming a distorted rainbow over the con- 
 gregation, making the wife wonder why her husband looks 
 so blue, while the good man fears she is seized with jaundice 
 and the children with scarlet fever ; yet, after all, the gro- 
 tesque pigmy no more resembles the grand picturesque of 
 England's old churches, than a graveyard obelisk Cleopatra's 
 Needle. 
 
 Far be it from us to speak disrespectfully of the few minds 
 which shone in the twilight of Europe, looming larger through 
 the fog, yet heralding the dawn. No true-hearted student is 
 without a strong antiquarian sense of the interest attached to 
 the beginning of art, letters, and civilization ; neither can one, 
 who has visited the minsters and cathedrals of Britain by day, 
 or Melrose and Glastonbury by moonlight, ever forget his ad- 
 miration of the creative genius which combined more than 
 Cyclopean strength with more than Corinthian luxuriance ; 
 but we must protest against this sacrificing of convenience for 
 an imitation of the antique, this making venerable of all that 
 is old, this condemnation of the useful as the unspiritual. To 
 an elevated, healthy imagination, there is more poetry in a 
 nicely constructed steam-engine, working with its Titan sin- 
 ews and Briarean hands, yet breathing softly as a sleeping 
 child, than in all the knightly tournaments and sacerdotal 
 shows that our ancestors ever wondered at ; all the trouba- 
 dours of Provence had not a tithe of the romance that a clear, 
 
412 THE CLAIMS OF OUK COUNTET 
 
 aesthetical eye can see hanging round a village of factory-girls, 
 every one of whom is a living story of love, hope, constancy, 
 and courage ; a modern linen-weaver's label often presents as 
 fine specimens of Arabesque as can be found in a virtuoso's 
 cabinet ; nay, if richness of design, grace of drawing, and har- 
 monious contrasts of color be criteria of good taste, we may 
 point to a Sunday group of servant-maids, in the fresh pride 
 of their Lowell printed calicoes, and say, — " Solomon in all 
 his glory was not arrayed like one of these !" 
 
 Be it our aim, gentlemen, as it is our privilege, to learn all 
 that the past can teach us by its successes and its failures, to 
 take out of it only what is good, beautiful, true, and right. It 
 were the folly of dotage to do more. As for the rest, " Let 
 the dead bury their dead," but let us "go and preach the 
 Gospel," light for the ignorant, justice for the laborer, freedom 
 for the slave, " peace on earth and good-will towards men." 
 Antiquity ! What is antiquity ? Is the world growing young- 
 er ? Had our fathers more experience than we, who have 
 their experience added to our own ? " We are the ancients," 
 said the great leader of modern science. The present is the 
 better antiquity ; the future will be the best. 
 
 It were presumption to set forth before you the methods in 
 which we, as literary men, may serve our country. Our re- 
 sponsibilities are in accordance with our faculties and our op- 
 portunities. There are various degrees of mental force, some 
 forms of talent are better adapted to have power over men 
 than others, and equal chances for exercising zeal are not 
 given ; but every literary man, because he can reach many, 
 is, by calling, a public servant, and bound to act upon a lar- 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 413 
 
 ger theatre than the less gifted individual, who can reach only 
 a few. "Whatever tends to promote true religion and the hap- 
 piness necessarily connected with sound morals, to improve 
 the arts of life, to refine the general taste, to enlarge the pub- 
 lic mind, to throw elevating or endearing associations around 
 our country, is a patriotic service. The preacher of Christ in 
 his pulpit, the teacher of youth in his school, the man of science 
 in his experimental lucubrations, the historian in his research- 
 es, the artist in his studio, the poet in the melodies of his lute 
 or lyre, every man who employs his educated powers, should 
 act from patriotic motive ; not the patriotism of a section, but 
 of our whole country ; which, unless this argument has been 
 sadly erroneous, is eminently consistent with duty to God and 
 devotion to our race. The stern Dordrechtian theology of 
 your orator (which, he is well aware, has but little favor here, 
 even among the straitest sects of the Orthodox) will not allow 
 him to speak of disinterested benevolence ; for, as he beheves, 
 the Divine system recognizes no such virtue. The harmony 
 of a soul, which Aristotle considers its moral perfection, lies 
 in an accurate adjustment of self and love. Self ia an au- 
 thorized motive, but only when hand in hand with love. The 
 delight accompanying intellectual exertion and desire of fame, 
 both of which every literary man feels so keenly, becomes a 
 noble enthusiasm when we make the aim of our scholar's life 
 the benefit and illustration of our native land. True as the 
 oft-repeated maxim may be,^ 
 
 " Dulce et decorum est pro pstria mori," — 
 
 it is not less sweet and honorable to live and labor for its last- 
 35* 
 
414 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRT 
 
 ing interests. The most perilous warfare is that in wliicTi 
 only fearless reason can win victory for the right ; and there 
 are knots in the cords binding man's soul, which can be cut 
 by no sword, however keen, but must be untied by strong, 
 persevering logic. Neither warrior nor statesman adorns his 
 birth-place with more imperishable glory than the author who 
 achieves immortal usefulness. In a single night were written 
 both verse and melody of that Marseilles Hymn, which, like 
 a whirlwind, has swept down successive tyrannies, and will be 
 chanted as a spell of liberating might, until the brave shall no 
 longer need to arm at the call of freedom. Shame upon our 
 men of genius, that our people have as yet neither national 
 song nor air worthy of the name ! The poet who will indite 
 for us such a song, the composer who will give us such an air, 
 may be sure of a fame to which that of Pindar is poor. 
 Where on earth is there a river, except the old Nile, the yel- 
 low Tiber, or the sacred Jordan, to which a pilgrim turns 
 with higher emotion than the " Silver Avon ?" Virgil, when, 
 amidst the splendors of the Augustan city, he recalled, as the 
 Shepherd Tityrus, his early haunts, sang smilingly, — 
 
 " Urbem, quam dicunt liomam, Meliboee, putavi 
 Stultus ego huic nostrse similem ;" — 
 
 but when the author of the ^neid came to die, the first words 
 he dictated for his funeral urn were a legacy of his fame to 
 his native village, — 
 
 " Mantua me genuit." 
 The waves of the jEgean, as they dash against its vine-sur- 
 
ON ITS T.ITEKART MEN. 415 
 
 mounted cliffs, echo the name of him who from his misty 
 throne looks down without a peer in epic grandeur, — 
 
 " The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle." 
 
 A curious traveller may find on the innermost curve of the 
 Gulf of Contessa the wretched village of Stauros. There 
 once stood the strong, magnificent city of a mighty people, 
 who, with mortal courage, contending against perfidious Athens, 
 perished amidst its ruins. All the names of those martyrs for 
 liberty with whose blood the Strymon ran red are passed from 
 the memory of man, and their grand examples lost in the ob- 
 scurity of unrecorded time ; but a mention of The Stagirite 
 comes upon our souls like a charm of power, as the name of 
 him who, through more than two decades of centuries, since 
 he died an exile on the shore of the Euripus, has swayed the 
 widest empire over human thought ever granted to an unin- 
 spired mind. Gentlemen, be it yours to glorify with similar, 
 if not equal, trophies the land of your birth ! 
 
 Under those governments which fetter the press and allow 
 the people no just share in deciding their own fortunes, where 
 words of right are no sooner heard than the fearless voice 
 that uttered them is hushed by death or the dungeon door, 
 there may be excuse for educated men who give themselves 
 up wholly to mere abstract studies or pursuits strictly scholas- 
 tical. The guilt of their silence is on their oppressors. Here, 
 not only is there perfect freedom in expressing opinion, but, 
 in speaking to the people, we address the governing will. Of 
 that governing will we are ourselves a part, and therefore we 
 are bound by our share in the government to contribute all 
 
416 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 we can for its direction and prosperity. Our simple votes are 
 not enough ; the most ignorant boor, the vilest ragamuffin of 
 our cities, can cast his vote as well as we. It is our duty, be- 
 cause it is within our power, to enlighten others who vote with 
 us. The principles of our government are few, and firmly, 
 logically settled by the Constitution, in so plain a manner as 
 scarcely to leave room for an honest dou'.t; yet its nature is 
 so unexampled, that it must continue to be, as it has been, 
 eminently one of experiment. The questions that will arise 
 will be such as should receive the intelligent consideration of 
 every citizen; but, at the same time, they will be chiefly 
 questions of political ethics and political economy. If the 
 moral integrity and substantial wealth of the country be cared 
 for, there remains little, if anything, else to demand our at- 
 tention. Both these subjects come fairly within the reach of 
 the studious man. It may even be said, that he only is capa- 
 ble of investigating them candidly and of treating them thor- 
 oughly. In those countries where rule is usurped by the fewi 
 the privileged classes repress the knowledge of the rest ; in 
 ours, where the people have the power, and, through our dif- 
 fused education, more or less a habit of reasoning, the effort 
 of designing self-seekers is to mislead by specious sophistry, 
 garbled facts, or distorted statistics. Every present, acciden- 
 tal, temporary uneasiness, every sectional interest, every preju- 
 dice attached to the sound of words, (and they are as manifold 
 as they are mischievous,) is eagerly seized upon to create a 
 popular excitement for the furtherance of narrow or unna- 
 tional views. The charm of party is thrown round selfish 
 ends. The priests of the idol taboo every subject, a misrep- 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 417 
 
 resentation of which can help them to oflBce, that none others 
 may open it and expose their iniquity. It is our duty, as ed- 
 ucated men, trained in the calmness of study, acquainted with 
 the certainties of knowledge, to disabuse our people of the 
 false and edify the n on the true. We are, or should be, ele- 
 vated by the advantages we profess above many of the diffi- 
 culties and temptations which hinder common minds in searches 
 after truth. Prejudice of every kind, like the mists of the 
 lowlands, should lie far beneath us ; for it is our privilege, if 
 we deserve our name, to breathe a clear, rarefied atmosphere, 
 where no exhalations of earth come between us and the sun- 
 light. From these heights we have a wide circuit of vision. 
 The past opens to us its experience, the great present is spread 
 out before us, and, so far as they can be inferred from the 
 comparison of the past with the present, we discern the con- 
 tingencies of the future. If it be impossible not to feel the 
 influences of sect, party, or vicinage, let us not be in bondage 
 to either. Christianity is more than sect, patriotism more 
 than party, our country than the section where we live. It is 
 our vocation to make known truth, and, while bad men, or 
 narrow-minded men, or ignorant men, reasoning falsely from 
 isolated facts, would distract or mislead the people, to show 
 them that human legislation should be ever in accordance 
 with the fixed, fundamental laws o God ; that the best wel- 
 fare of the whole is the best welfare of each ; our best policy, 
 an unwavering vindication of the general right ; our best free- 
 dom, fidelity to God, each other, and mankind. Motives of 
 personal gain should in us be overborne by a liberal love of 
 the beautiful, the proper, and the good. Such demonstration 
 
418 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY 
 
 of sound political doctrine is most urgently needed. It is high 
 time that the discussion of themes so vitally important should 
 be no longer abandoned to mere traders for votes, who now 
 superciliously denounce the moralist and the student as inter- 
 meddlers, if they speak of things concerning the public weal ; 
 it is high time that questions of social right and national econ- 
 omy should be treated on better grounds than the pecuniary 
 profits of classes who insist upon contending as rivals when 
 they should be coadjutors ; it is high time that the people 
 should hear voices of warning or encouragement from those 
 who ask nothing and aim at nothing but the general good. 
 Never will justice be done to inquiries which most affect our 
 national advantage, until the name of politician be taken from 
 the office-seeker, and given to the Christian philosopher, who, 
 from the fear of God and for the sake of man, studies and 
 "speaks the truth in love," "out of good conscience," and 
 " with the meekness of wisdom." 
 
 Let us not be driven from a duty so sacred and so honora- 
 ble by the sneering assertion, that such matters can be rightly 
 handled only by what are called " practical men," and that 
 bookish theorists are out of place in the busy world. Prac- 
 tice ? Theory ? When was there ever right practice but 
 where theory had gone before ? What guides the merchant's 
 ship, drives the manufacturer's engine, enriches the farmer's 
 ground, flashes instant news across and throughout a continent, 
 but theory ? Mark, we say theory, not hypothesis ; for the 
 pert bunglers always confound those terms. Hypothesis is a 
 guess ; but theory is hypothesis proved by induction from 
 facts. What were your practical men without theorists? 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 419 
 
 Precisely what the hands, feet, and other working parts of 
 the human system would be without the brain. Are we less 
 capable of distinguishing fact from falsity because our eyes 
 are not sanded , by gold, our ears stuffed with cotton, or our 
 consciences hypothecated in bonds payable six months hence ? 
 Because some screaming geese once saved the Capitol, shall 
 intellect be drummed off guard ? Justice, candor, gratitude, 
 forbid an insinuation of the least disrespect for the admirable 
 virtues, public spirit, mental ability, and munificent apprecia- 
 tion of knowledge, which dignify many of those who are truly 
 practical men, — of whom there are nowhere finer examples 
 than among your own neighbors. They would repudiate the 
 attempts of their weaker brethren to cut them off from an 
 alliance with investigating mind. The most humble labors 
 in the workshop or the field has a title to our thankful esteem 
 that shall never be denied. But we would fain lash, till they 
 howled, the vapid dunces who think that there can be no prac- 
 tical judgment beyond what they have learned from a petty 
 practice, or an acquaintance with the price-current and stocfc- 
 list, yet not unfrequently aspire to be theorists themselves, 
 parading their puny sciolism on stilts of preposterous English 
 and worse logic. 
 
 Such exhibitions are rather ridiculous than melancholy ; 
 but sadness mingles with indignation when Ave see genius or 
 strong reason selling itself, for the price of bread or pleasure, 
 to do the drudgery of scheming avarice. 
 
 "In lacherlichem Znge 
 Erblickt man Ochs und Fliigclpferd am Pfluge." 
 
 In this respect our politics have been a very Tartarus of 
 
420 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTKT 
 
 talent, where we discover one ever rolling arduously a sugar- 
 hogshead ; another sweating in a furnace ; another lashed to 
 extravagant eccentricities of ethics and logic by a vindictive 
 negro, whom he will carry chained on his back as a proof of 
 eminent republicanism ; another whirling, like Ixion, with the 
 constant revolutions of a factory driving-wheel. 
 
 Such are the momentous changes now rapidly succeeding 
 each other, that a faithful scholar, at a crisis perhaps not ap- 
 parent to himself, may, by a few well-digested thoughts, couched 
 in a few well-directed sentences, save his country from im- 
 pending ruin. History has not a finer instance of the power 
 which eloquence may exert over popular fury, than that of a 
 year since, when a single modulated voice stayed the most 
 sanguinary mob the world has ever known, — stayed them for 
 long hours, when bent ravingly on destruction, and then turned 
 them back with the tricolor waving where the red flag had 
 glared. He, who won that triumph of such incalculable val- 
 ue, was not a practical man, and has since, unfortunately, 
 proved himself not a successful statesman ; yet, with all his 
 subsequent failures, honor, honor to Lamartine, the literary 
 man, the orator ! Honor to the Codes, who, single-handed, 
 kept the bridge against the impetuous hordes of murderous 
 incendiaries ! For that one act of devotion, he deserves, like 
 his prototype, bread while he lives, and a statue on the spot 
 where he dies. God keep our country from such a day of 
 peril ! But, should our voice or our pen be needed, and we 
 delay our duty beyond the juncture of apt circumstances, our 
 most strenuous endeavors may be met by the fatal response, 
 which sealed the fate of a splendid dynasty, " Cest trap tard! " 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 421 
 
 The popular mind of this country is well prepared and not 
 ill-disposed to acknowledge our frank zeal on their behalf; 
 though, at the same time, what are opportunities for good are 
 also opportunities for evU. A general conviction, that each 
 participant of the democratic sovereignty should be fitted as 
 far as possible for the exercise of his elective power, has made 
 the education of the young a care of every State govern- 
 ment ; not always as wisely or thoroughly as might be wished, 
 yet, where the diflSculties of recent settlement have been passed 
 through, or the incubus of slavery does not weigh down the 
 nominally free, it is eminently the popular policy. In no 
 other country are there so many readers, or readers who read 
 so much. In no other country does the press labor more to 
 supply the demand for newspapers, periodicals, and books. 
 The cheapness of publication naturally increases the demand, 
 which, again, lowers the price of the supply. There are al- 
 ways caterpillars on the " tree of knowledge," which itself 
 bears a double fruit, " of good and evil." It is not, therefore, 
 to be wondered at, that the land has been overrun by trashy 
 and dangerously immoral writings ; but the good is out-work- 
 ing the evil. Our principal publishing-houses have found, by 
 profitable experiments, that the market for the most substan- 
 tial books has grown in a far greater ratio than the population ; 
 and that large editions of works on the most useful branches 
 of general science or literature have been rapidly sold, which, 
 a few years since, would have lain like lumber in their gar- 
 rets. The treasures of old English have been ransacked to 
 meet in compendious forms the appetite of a healthy taste. 
 Writers of the first class have arisen from among ourselves, 
 
 36 
 
422 THE CLAIMS OF OUK COUNTRY 
 
 and some foremost of the foremost from your own ranks, 
 gentlemen, to compete successfuly with those of the Old 
 World's former centuries ; while others, of less, though not 
 despicable, character, especially in the belles-lettres, are 
 springing up like butter-cups in a meadow. Prejudice against 
 reading an American book, never so great as disappointed 
 scribblers supposed, has given place to an overweening partial- 
 ity for home productions, not only in literature, but in art. 
 Not content with boasting of our truly great names, of which 
 any land or age might be proud, we resent it as wrong done 
 America, when superlative laudation is denied any pretty 
 pen that traces a pleasing story or a string of creditable verses ; 
 we discover Ciceros plenty as the stumps which serve our 
 oratora for rostra ; and we execrate by Apollo all unable to 
 detect a future Angelo in every untaught youth who chips a 
 head out of stone, or dashes a crude conception on canvas. 
 There is no country where reputation for talent or scholarship 
 is so easily won, or mental labor, except of the highest kind, 
 is better paid. 
 
 No doubt this has in a measure repressed the ambition of 
 some, who, conscious of high powers, are unwilling to be 
 jostled on so crowded an arena. When extreme epithets of 
 praise are lavished upon hasty, ephemeral trifles, there remain 
 no terms worthily to designate the productions of deep, long 
 thought. The Virgilian patience, which spends a day upon 
 an hexameter, will not endure being evened with the fatal 
 facility which improvises a hundred lines stems pede in uno. 
 The Olympian eloquence, which labored for twenty years on 
 a eulogy of democratic Athens, would have but little chance 
 
ON ITS LITERARY MEN. 423 
 
 against the torrent hyperbole of a Western Pericles, who 
 lords it over his shouting constituents by an inspiration caught 
 from the buffalo-hunt, the flow of the Mississippi, the crash of 
 the forest before the axe, or the solitude of the ocean-wide 
 prairie, yet which as seldom fails to hit the centre of human 
 enthusiasm, as his rifle-baU the heart of a flying deer. Nor 
 is it surprising that a devotee to one particular branch of sci- 
 ence, more than sufficient of itself for ten lives, should some- 
 times shrink from the omnigenous competition which is equally 
 ready at inventing a cooking-stove or an ethical system, and 
 wiU take to the pulpit, the bar, a professor's chair, a seat in 
 the Senate, or the Presidency of the United States, if only 
 sure that the emoluments of the new speculation will exceed 
 those of a quack-medicine, a peddling-wagon, or a singing- 
 school. But such readiness to honor intellectual effort proves 
 a liberal, upward tendency of our people, who, though they 
 may now applaud excessively the less worthy, will sooner or 
 later appreciate the more deserving ; and such restless versa- 
 tility of talent shows an energy of mental enterprise, which, 
 if the rich soil be cultivated aright, promises no scanty har- 
 vest. 
 
 Besides, there is an unmistakable and increasing dispo- 
 sition to philosophical methods of thought and action. The 
 cry is for ideas, and, though often affected, the fashion is to 
 demand principles, and at least a show of demonstration. Our 
 people claim for themselves, and would transmit to their chil- 
 dren, the right of private judgment; and the faculty, nurtured 
 by political habits, is exercised on all subjects brought before 
 them. It is as natural for an American to reason as to breathe ; 
 
424 THK CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTKT 
 
 and his favorite method (no doubt, from shrewd New Eng- 
 land example) is the Socratic. He will believe nothing, do noth- 
 ing, submit to nothing, without knowing, or thinking that he 
 knows, why. He is much fonder of the lecture-room than of the 
 spectacle. He wiU listen to any one on any subject, provided the 
 lecturer offers proof; but his questions Why ? and How ? readily 
 silence the most plausible declaimer. From these and other 
 causes, there is throughout our country (though, for obvious 
 reasons, greater in some sections than others) an activity and 
 sensitiveness of mind unexampled and increasing. The ad- 
 vocate of truth can desire no opportunity more magnificent. 
 
 One thought more. With the history of this country, God 
 began a revolution in his treatment and development of hu- 
 man nature. Up to that moment, the great divisions, even 
 the larger sub-divisions, of our race had been kept apart from 
 each other, separated and made distinct by climate, by lan- 
 guage, by hereditary habits. The eastern and southern quar- 
 ters of the globe we leave for the present out of our calcula- 
 tion, as their time of revival is yet far in the future, and 
 speak of Europe. Even Christianity has failed to accom- 
 plish a coalescence. The mysteries of Osiris still hnger around 
 the altars of Magna Grsecia. The Druids have left in the 
 customs of Britain monuments lasting as Stonehenge. Taci- 
 tus may serve the modern traveller as an Itinerary through- 
 out what was Gerraania Antiqua. The fetters of national 
 prejudice have eaten into the bone, and the quick flesh is 
 grown over them. Each nation has married only with its 
 own blood, and the evils of the incest are upon their offspring. 
 Each has kept its own characteristic vices and virtues apart 
 
ON ITS LITERA.RY MEN. 425 
 
 from those of the others ; yet it is a law of Providence, that 
 distinct vices act as checks upon their rival passions, while 
 virtue is stimulated by virtue. The Italian is only an Italian, 
 the Frank a Frank, the Spaniard a Spaniard ; and so each 
 of the rest is now well nigh as distinct as when Caesar wrote 
 his Commentai'ies. Some changes have been wrought 
 by Religion and the Press, but neither Religion nor the 
 Press has had its fair influence ; the one has been distorted, 
 the other manacled, both abused by national law and national 
 sentiment. The higher orders of society, who travel and 
 read, may assimilate from a common creed of etiquette ; but 
 the people, the plebeians, remain distinct and the same. The 
 men, and even the women, (varium et mutabile fcemina^ of 
 separate cantons, departments, duchies, or shires, have inher- 
 ited fashions of dress from their grandfathers and grand- 
 mothers, great, great, great beyond arithmetic. The war of 
 races and tribes is now deluging Europe with blood. The 
 enmity among them there seems ineradicable. 
 
 But what has God done, what is He doing, what is He 
 about to do, in this land ? He has set it far away to the west^ 
 and made it so circumstantially independent, that, if all the 
 rest of the habitable earth were sunk, we should feel no seri- 
 ous curtailment of our comforts. The products of the whol6 
 world are, or may soon be, found within our confederate hm- 
 its. He brought here flrst the sternest, most religious, most 
 determined representatives of Europe's best blood, best faith, 
 best intellect ; men, ay, and women (it is the mother makes 
 the child), who, because they feared God, feared no created 
 power, — who, bowing before His absolute sovereignty, would 
 
 Oi 
 
426 THK CLAIMS OF OUU COUMKY 
 
 kneel to no lord spiritual or temporal on earth, — and ■who, 
 believing the Bible true, demanded its sanction for all law. 
 To your Pilgrim Fathers the highest place may well be ac- 
 corded ; but forget not, that, about the time of their landing 
 on the Rock, there came to the mouth of the Hudson men of 
 kindred faith and descent, — men equally loving freedom, — 
 men from the sea-washed cradle of modern constitutional 
 freedom, whose union of free burgher-cities taught us the les- 
 son of confederate independent sovereignties, whose sires were 
 as free, long centuries before Magna Charta, as the English 
 are now, and from whose hne of republican princes Britain 
 received the boon of religious toleration, a privilege the States- 
 General had recognized as a primary article of their govern- 
 ment when first established ; men of that stock, which, when 
 offered their choice of favors from a grateful monarch, asked 
 a University* ; men whose martyr-sires had baptized their 
 land with their blood ; men who had flooded it with ocean- 
 waves rather than yield it to a bigot-tyrant ; men, whose vir- 
 tues were sober as prose, but sublime as poetry ; — the men 
 of Holland ! Mingled with these, and still farther on, were 
 heroic Huguenots, their fortunes broken, but their spirit un- 
 bending to prelate or prelate-ridden king. There were others 
 (and a dash of cavalier blood told well in battle-field and 
 
 * After the eventful issue of the siege of Leyden, the Prince of Or- 
 ange and the States-General, grateful to the heroic defenders of that 
 city, offered them their choice of an Annual Fair or a University. Tliey 
 chose the University ; hut, struck with tlie nobleness of the choice, the 
 high authorities granted them both. Tlie University was established in 
 1575, and became the Alma Mater of Grotius, Scaliger, Bocrhaave, and 
 many other renowned men. 
 
ON ITS LITEUAllY JlJiX. 427 
 
 council) ; — but those were the spirits whom God made the 
 moral substratum of our national character. Here, like Israel 
 in the wilderness, and thousands of miles off from the land of 
 bondage, they were educated for their high calling, until, in 
 the fulness of times, our confedc;racy with its Constitution was 
 founded. Already there had been a salutary mixture of 
 blood, but not enough to impair the Anglo-Saxon ascendency. 
 The nation grew morally strong from its original elements. 
 The great work was delayed only by a just preparation. 
 Now God is bringing hither the most vigorous scions from all 
 the European stocks, to " make of them all one new mak ;" 
 not the Saxon, not the German, not the Gaul, not the Helve- 
 tian, but the American. Here they will unite as one broth- 
 erhood, will have one law, will share one interest. Spread 
 over the vast region from the frigid to the torrid, from Eastern 
 to Western ocean, every variety of climate giving them choice 
 of pursuit and modification of temperament, the ballot-box 
 fusing together all rivalries, they shall have one national will 
 What is wanting in one race will be supplied by the charac- 
 teristic energies of the others ; and what is excessive in either, 
 checked by the counter-action of the rest. Nay, though for 
 a time the newly come may retain their foreign vernacular, 
 our tongue, so rich in ennobling literature, will be the tongue 
 of the nation, the language of its laws, and the accent of its 
 majesty. Eternal God ! who seest the end with the be- 
 ginning, thou alone canst tell the ultimate grandeur of this 
 people ! 
 
 Such, gentlemen, is the sphere, present and future, in which 
 God calls us to work lor Him, for our country, and ibr man- 
 
428 THE CLAIMS OF OUR COUNTRY, ETC. 
 
 kind. The language in which we utter truth will be spoken 
 on this continent, a century hence, by thirty times more mil- 
 lions than those dwelling on the island of its origin. The 
 openings for trade on the Pacific coast, and the railroad across 
 the Isthmus, will bring the commerce of the world under the 
 control of our race. The empire of our language will follow 
 that of our commerce ; the empire of our institutions, that of 
 our language. The man who writes successfully for America 
 will yet speak to all the world. 
 
 END. 
 

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