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 PRESIDENT WAYLAND'S DISCOURSE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HON. NICHOLAS BROWN, 
 
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DISCOURSE 
 
 IN COMMEMORATION OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 HON. NICHOLAS BROWN, 
 
 DELIVERED 
 
 IN THE CHAPEL OF BROWN UNIVERSITY, 
 
 NOVEMBER 3, 1841. 
 
 By FRANCIS WAYLANDy Bt IX-, 
 
 PRESIDENT OF BROWN UNIVERSITY. ' ' ' • 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 GOULD, KENDALL, AND LINCOLN, 
 
 59 Washington Street. 
 
 1841. 
 
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DISCOUESE. 
 
 Ajv aged and much honored fellow-citizen has 
 lately ceased from among us. His manly and ven- 
 erable form will no more meet us at his hospitable 
 fire-side, in the mart of business, or in the house of 
 God. We have followed his remains to the house 
 appointed for all the living, and have seen them, with 
 every token of private affection and public respect, 
 consigned to their last resting-place. The various 
 institutions, with the management of which he had 
 been so long identified, have borne testimony to his 
 worth. The young and the old have delighted to do 
 homage to his virtues. Every one of us feels that 
 this community has sustained an irreparable loss; 
 and that "a prince and a great man has fallen in 
 Israel." 
 
 It is meet, that at the grave of such a man we 
 should pause, and devote a few moments to earnest 
 meditation. It is appropriate for us to turn from the 
 
stirring avocations of business, and the retired pur- 
 suits of letters, to contemplate a character which we 
 have so long honored, and to estimate the results of 
 a life, which has, in so many respects, modified the 
 destiny of us and of our children. Here we may 
 learn lessons of wisdom, which no where else can be 
 taught so impressively. Standing on the isthmus 
 which divides the present life from the future, we may 
 thus appreciate with greater accuracy the relations 
 which God has established between these two por- 
 tions of our existence. 
 
 The most impressive event, in the life of any human 
 being, occurs at the moment when he is leaving it. 
 The ties which have bound us to every thing below, 
 are at that instant sundered. The rights and the 
 obligations of parent and child, of husband and wife, 
 of citizen and magistrate, of benefactor and recipient, 
 all terminate here. The world hath no farther claims 
 upon the silent sleeper on the bed of death, now that 
 the last sad agony is over, and the soul hath returned 
 to God who gave it. The spirit, in all its deathless 
 energies, has entered another state, and has bidden 
 adieu to all that it hoped or feared, to all that it loved or 
 hated, in this its changeful existence. Henceforward 
 its home is in eternity. 
 
 But this is not the most impressive of the many 
 thoughts that cluster around the idea of a spirit's 
 departure. At that moment her probation closes. 
 So long as we live, moral change is possible. Every 
 act of our lives is, from the nature of our constitution, 
 confirming us in those moral habits which must be 
 
sources either of joy or sorrow to the spirit through 
 the long ages of her illimitable duration. But with 
 the moment of her departure, her destiny is sealed for 
 eternity. Her character can henceforth change only 
 by progression. The direction which it has taken at 
 the moment of death must remain with it for ever. 
 Hereafter it must move onward and upward from 
 glory to glory, or onward and downward from shame 
 to shame. 
 
 The death of a friend leads us, moreover, to reflect 
 both upon the brevity of life, and the permanency of its 
 results. Then, as we look back over the period of our 
 sublunary existence, we see that, emphatically, our 
 days are as a shadow, and that our " life is as a vapor, 
 which continueth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
 away." Whether we compare it with duration that is 
 past, or with duration that is yet to be, it dwindles to an 
 almost invisible point. If we review the history of a 
 human life, so far as its relations to our present state 
 are concerned, all seems evanescent as a fleeting 
 dream. A restless struggle after the means of sub- 
 sistence, a few rapid successions of feverish excite- 
 ment and languid repose, a few aflfections warmed 
 into life and chilled into apathy, and then all is laid 
 at rest beneath the clods of the valley. What are all 
 these to the spirit that has entered upon its state of 
 retribution, or to the frail tenement which is already 
 crumbling to its original dust! And yet upon this 
 momentary existence eternal destinies are suspended. 
 Consequences, which the mind of seraph cannot 
 estimate, result from this transitory life. The ques- 
 
6 
 
 tion, whether the ever-unfolding spirit shall be happy 
 or miserable, is, during this little period, decided, and 
 the decision can be reversed no more for ever. 
 
 But it is not only upon ourselves that the results of 
 the present life are interminable. From the very 
 constitution of our being, we mutually influence and 
 are influenced by the character of others. To isolate 
 ourselves from society is impossible. The characters 
 of parents and children reciprocally modify each other. 
 Who does not perceive, that his present intellectual 
 and moral nature has derived its form and pressure 
 from the beings with whom he has been associated 
 during his previous history? Scarcely a single 
 element of our character can be detected, which 
 would not have been materially changed, had our 
 parents and friends, our instructers and our pupils, 
 our reading and our studies, been other than they 
 have been. The influence which has been exerted 
 over us, we in our turn exert over others. Thus the 
 present is always the child of the past. Had the past 
 been changed, the present could not be what it is. And 
 it matters not in what direction our efforts are exerted, 
 the result is the same. The object of intellectual 
 action is to produce change in the mind of man ; and 
 the mind of man is indestructible. By the laws of our 
 being, impressions upon the soul become broader and 
 deeper, and multiply their own resemblances upon 
 the souls that every where surround us. Whether our 
 example be for good or for evil, whether we dissem- 
 inate truth or error, whether we breathe into the 
 minds of others conceptions of purity or of guilt, we are 
 
setting in motion trains of thought, of which the con- 
 sequences shall only begin to be unfolded when the 
 heavens shall have been wrapped together as a scroll, 
 and the elements have melted with fervent heat. 
 Thus " we may rest from our labors, but our w^orks 
 do follow us." 
 
 It may, I know, be said, that these results can only 
 be appreciated in those cases where God has be- 
 stowed upon man extraordinary means for influencing 
 the character of his fellows. We grant that then 
 only can they be appreciated ; but it is evident, that 
 in all other cases they as truly ensue. I grant that 
 our power to confer enduring benefits upon man 
 depends, in no inconsiderable degree, upon talent and 
 wealth, and social position ; but I also affirm that it 
 depends in a more remarkable degree upon ourselves. 
 Our lives are wasted away in frivolity, and our influ- 
 ence upon our race is limited to those results which 
 we cannot escape, because we choose to have it so. 
 There is not one of us who might not render his 
 existence an illimitable blessing to mankind, if he 
 would be just unto himself. What a theatre of action 
 would this world present, did we dilate our concep- 
 tions until they comprehended, only in some feeble 
 degree, the greatness of our destiny. How infinitely 
 glorious would the capabilities of our present state 
 appear, could we look down upon this world from the 
 battlements of heaven. The sons of God, who have 
 never sinned, thus look down upon us ; and "are they 
 not all ministering spirits sent forth to minister to those 
 who are heirs of salvation ?" 
 
8 
 
 If such be the relation which this life sustains to 
 another, and if such be the influence which we must 
 exert over those that come after us, it is manifest that 
 we can accomplish, in no signal degree, the purposes 
 of our being unless we act for posterity. We can 
 associate our names with succeeding ages, only by 
 deeds or by thoughts which they will not willingly 
 forget. And thus it is that every where man seeks 
 to attain to a sublunary immortality. The crumbling 
 tombstone and the gorgeous mausoleum, the sculp- 
 tured marble, and the venerable cathedral, all bear 
 witness to the instinctive desire within us to be 
 remembered by coming generations. But how short- 
 lived is the immortality which the works of our hands 
 can confer ! The noblest monuments of art, that the 
 world has ever seen, are covered with the soil of 
 twenty centuries. The works of the age of Pericles, 
 lie at the foot of the Acropolis in indiscriminate ruin. 
 The ploughshare turns up the marble which the hand 
 of Phidias had chiselled into beauty, and the Mussul- 
 man has folded his flock beneath the falling columns 
 of the temple of Minerva. But even the works of 
 our hands too frequently survive the memory of those 
 who have created them. And were it otherwise, 
 could we thus carry down to distant ages the recol- 
 lection of our existence, it were surely childish to waste 
 the energies of an immortal spirit in the effort to make 
 it known to other times, that a being whose name 
 was written with certain letters of the alphabet, once 
 lived, and flourished, and died. Neither sculptured 
 marble, nor stately column, can reveal to other ages 
 
the lineaments of the spirit; and these alone can 
 embalm our memory in the hearts of a grateful pos- 
 terity. As the stranger stands beneath the dome of 
 St. Paul's, or treads, with religious awe, the silent 
 aisles of Westminster Abbey, the sentiment, which is 
 breathed from every object around him, is, the utter 
 emptiness of sublunary glory. The most magnificent 
 nation, that the world has ever seen, has here 
 exhausted every effort to render illustrious her sons, 
 who have done worthily. The fine arts, obedient to 
 private affection or public gratitude, have embodied, 
 in every form, the finest conceptions of which their 
 age was capable. In years long gone by, each one of 
 these monuments has been watered by the tears of 
 the widow, the orphan, or the patriot. But generations 
 have passed away, and mourners and mourned have 
 sunk together into forgetfulness. The aged crone, 
 or the smooth-tongued beadle, as now he hurries you 
 ^through aisle and chapel, utters, with measured 
 cadence and unmeaning tone, for the thousandth 
 time, the name and lineage of the once honored dead ; 
 and then gladly dismisses you, to repeat again his 
 w^ell-conned lesson to another group of idle passers 
 by. Such, in its most august form, is all the immor- 
 tality that matter can confer. Impressive and 
 venerable though it be, it is the impressiveness of 
 a solemn and mortifying failure. It is by what we 
 ourselves have done, and not by what others have 
 done for us, that we shall be remembered by after 
 ages. It is by thought that has aroused my intellect 
 from its slumbers, which has " given lustre to virtue, 
 2 
 
10 
 
 and dignity to truth," or by those examples which 
 have inflamed my soul with the love of goodness, and 
 not by means of sculptured marble, that I hold com- 
 munion with Shakspeare and Milton, with Johnson 
 and Burke, with Howard and Wilberforce. 
 
 It is then obvious, that if we desire to live worthily, 
 if we wish to fulfil the great purposes for which we 
 w^ere created, we must leave the record of our exist- 
 ence inscribed on the ever-during spirit. The 
 impression there made can never be effaced. " Time, 
 which obliterates nations and the record of their 
 existence," only renders the lineaments which we 
 trace on mind deeper and more legible. From the 
 very principles of our social nature, moral and intel- 
 lectual character multiplies indefinitely its own likeness. 
 This, then, is the appropriate field of labor for the 
 immortal and ever-growing soul. 
 
 I know that the power thus given to us is fre- 
 quently abused. I am aware, that the most gifted 
 intellect has frequently been prostituted to the 
 dissemination of error, and that the highest capacity 
 for action has been devoted to the perpetration of 
 wrong. It is melancholy beyond expression, to 
 behold an immortal spirit, by precept and example 
 urging forward its fellows to rebellion against God. 
 But it is some alleviation to the pain of such a con- 
 templation to remember, that in the constitution of our 
 nature a limit has been fixed to the triumph of evil. 
 Falsity in theory is every where confronted by the 
 facts which present themselves to every man's 
 observation. A lie has not power to change the 
 
11 
 
 ordinances of God. Every day discloses its utter 
 worthlessness, until it fades away from our recollec- 
 tion, and is numbered among the things that were. 
 The indissoluble connection which our Creator has 
 established between vice and misery, tends also con- 
 tinually to arrest the progress of evil, and to render 
 odious whatever would render evil attractive. The 
 conscience of man himself, when once the storm of 
 passion has subsided, stamps it with moral disappro- 
 bation. The remorse of his own bosom forbids him 
 to reveal to another his own atrocious principles. 
 The innate affections of the heart teach us to shield 
 those whom we love from the contaminations of vice. 
 Hence, the effect of wicked example and of impure 
 conceptions, meeting with ceaseless resistance in the 
 social and moral impulsions of the soul, becomes from 
 age to age less apparent. Men are willing that such 
 examples should be forgotten, and they sink into 
 oblivion. Thus is it that, in the words of inspiration, 
 " the memory of the just is blessed, but the name of 
 the wicked shall rot." 
 
 It is then manifest, that we accomplish the highest 
 purposes of our existence, not merely by exerting the 
 power which God has given us upon the spirit of 
 man, but by exerting that power for the purpose of 
 promoting his happiness and confirming his virtue. 
 It is by the discovery and dissemination of truth, by 
 quickening into action the dormant energies of the 
 soul, and raising it to a true conception of its being 
 and its destiny ; it is by unfolding to the present and 
 to future ages the laws of the Creator, and thus 
 
12 
 
 opening to man perennial sources of happiness, and 
 discovering to him renewed occasions of gratitude 
 and adoration ; it is by sending abroad those influ- 
 ences which shall deliver man from the thraldom of 
 the senses, and teach him to aspire after all that is 
 holy ; it is by cleansing the soul from the pollutions 
 of guilt, and making it meet to be a partaker with the 
 saints in light ; it is thus, thus only, that we can act 
 worthily of our destiny, and put forth, to the full 
 amount of their power, the capacities with which God 
 has created us. Effort thus directed, is in harmony 
 with the interests, the affections and the conscience 
 of man; and thus the strongest and the noblest 
 principles of our nature co-operate in rendering it 
 ultimately successful. It is in harmony with the 
 goodness, the wisdom, and the holiness of God ; and 
 the nature of the Deity must change, ere he would 
 suffer a life, spent in humble imitation of his own 
 perfections, to fail of accomplishing the highest pur- 
 poses of which he hath made it susceptible, or brand 
 with the mark of his disapprobation the exercise of 
 those virtues of which he himself is the author and 
 exemplar. 
 
 The application of these remarks to the occasion 
 on which we have assembled, will be obvious to you 
 all. A man, distinguished for a life of well-directed 
 benevolence, has lately finished his course, and en- 
 tered into his rest. He has conferred additional 
 means of happiness upon us and upon posterity. To 
 cherish his memory is therefore the dictate of grati- 
 
13 
 
 tude, while our hearts may surely be made better by 
 contemplating those facts in his life which give him 
 so strong a claim to the recollection of his fellow- 
 citizens. I stand here neither to eulogize the dead, 
 nor to offer adulation to the living. My only object 
 is, so to set before you an example of benevolence 
 and public spirit, as to strengthen in every one of 
 you the resolution to go and do likewise. 
 
 The Honorable Nicholas Brown was descended 
 from Mr. Chad Browne, — an individual of that little 
 company who fled with Roger Williams from the 
 persecution of the then colony of Massachusetts. 
 Roger Williams, in one of his works, speaks of him 
 as " that holy man, now with God, Chad Browne." 
 The family has ever since borne an important part in 
 the history of Rhode Island. They have been very 
 generally remarkable for successful enterprise, active 
 patriotism, ardent love of liberty, consistent piety, and 
 general benevolence. Nicholas, the father of Mr. 
 Brown, one of the four brothers whose comprehensive 
 views and mercantile energy contributed so largely to 
 the prosperity of this their native town, was distin- 
 guished for uncommon good sense, native modesty, 
 and meek yet cheerful piety. His son, until the day 
 of his death, never spoke of him but with profound 
 respect and filial veneration. 
 
 Mr. Brown was born in this city, on the fourth of 
 April, 1769. He entered this University, then Rhode 
 Island College, at the early age of thirteen, in the 
 year 1782, under the presidentship of Dr. Manning, 
 an instructer for whom he ever entertained the most 
 
14 
 
 grateful regard. In 1786, before he had attained his 
 eighteenth year, he was admitted to the first degree 
 in the arts. In 1791, he was elected a member of 
 the Board of Trustees of this institution. Upon the 
 resignation of his uncle, Mr. John Brown, in the year 
 1796, he was elected Treasurer of the Corporation. 
 This office he held until September, 1825, when he 
 resigned it in consequence of his election to the 
 Board of Fellows, of which he was a member at the 
 time of his decease. His attention to his duties as a 
 member of the Corporation was exemplary. For more 
 than half a century, indeed until his last illness, he 
 was, I believe, never absent from any meeting of the 
 Corporation, and always took an active interest in 
 every discussion that involved the welfare of the 
 University. 
 
 Mr. Brown, as you well know, was from early life 
 engaged in mercantile pursuits. On his character in 
 this connection, it is not necessary that I should 
 enlarge. It will be sufficient to observe, that in 
 company with his brother-in-law, the late Thomas P. 
 Ives, from the year 1791 to 1836 he conducted the 
 affairs of one of the largest commercial houses in 
 New England, and that they gave to it a reputation 
 for undeviating integrity and financial skill, which has 
 caused the name of Brown & Ives to be respected in 
 every city of Europe and America. His disposition 
 was ardent, and his plans frequently adventurous. 
 Yet the success of his diversified operations sufficient- 
 ly testified that boldness of enterprise may be harmo- 
 niously united with vigorous and deliberate judgment. 
 
15 
 
 He was endowed in an unusual degree with that 
 quality, which I know not how better to express than 
 by the term, largeness of mind. A plan or an enter- 
 prise was attractive to him, other things being equal, 
 in proportion to its extensiveness. His commercial 
 views were much tinged by this predominating bias. 
 The same disposition might be distinctly traced in all 
 his benevolent efforts. He was a close and cautious 
 observer of the dispositions of men and the tendencies 
 of things. He seemed habitually to look at results, 
 and frequently at results long distant. Hence, his 
 charities, though large and greatly diversified, were 
 principally bestowed upon those objects which tended 
 to affect the courses of human action and human 
 thought. He sought not so much to build up, as to 
 lay the foundations ; and hence, as we shall have 
 occasion to see, his benevolence will be likely to 
 produce its permanent results upon coming genera- 
 tions. 
 
 To you who knew him so well, — and where is the 
 citizen of Providence to whom he was not personally 
 known 1 — I need not add, that he was distinguished 
 from other men by a large share of instinctive benev- 
 olence. His heart was the abode of active sympathy 
 for every form of human suffering. He not unfre- 
 quently visited the sick in their own dwellings, while 
 his door was frequently thronged, and his steps way- 
 laid, by the poor and unfortunate of every age. I 
 think I do not at all overstate the fact, when I assert, 
 that for the last twenty-five years, whenever any 
 person among us, in almost any rank of society, was 
 
16 
 
 in pecuniary distress, the first person to whom he 
 would spontaneously apply for relief was Nicholas 
 Brown. Nor was his reputation for charity confined 
 to his native place. Almost every mail brought him 
 applications for assistance, from every part of New 
 England, and even from the remoter States ; and 
 rarely, it is believed, were such appeals unavailing. 
 The amount of these distant disbursements was never 
 known, except to himself. The frequency of the 
 applications is of itself sufficient proof that they were 
 not made in vain. Men are not prone to apply for 
 aid where their neighbors have often applied without 
 success. Another illustration of his kindness of heart 
 is found in his tenderness for the reputation of others. 
 His benevolence was frequently requited by ingrat- 
 itude ; yet, under the most irritating provocations, he 
 was never known to indulge in the language either 
 of harshness or reproach. He seemed always dis- 
 posed to look upon human nature in its most favor- 
 able aspects, and when no favorable aspect could be 
 discovered, to contemplate the spectacle in silence. 
 The leading traits of Mr. Brown's character were, 
 I think, distinctly revealed in his countenance. In 
 his ample brow and well -developed forehead, you 
 could not but observe the marks of a vigorous and 
 expansive intellect ; while his mouth indicated a spirit 
 tenderly alive to human suffering, and habitually 
 occupied in the contemplation of deeds of compas- 
 sion. 
 
 Although Mr. Brown was never connected with 
 any Christian church, it is well known that he was^ 
 
17 
 
 in early life, deeply impressed with the importance of 
 religion, and gave to it ever afterwards a most solemn 
 and thoughtful attention. He was ardently attached 
 to the doctrines of the Reformation, and studied them 
 with earnestness and delight. His habitual compan- 
 ions were the works of President Edwards, of Owen, 
 of Baxter, and of Doddridge. I do not think that there 
 was any branch of human knowledge with which he 
 was so well acquainted as theology. I need not add 
 that he was a daily reader of the Holy Scriptures, and 
 that they were the source of his consolation and the 
 foundation of his hope, when every thing earthly had 
 lost its power to interest him. 
 
 Responding to the views which the Scriptures 
 present, of our moral obligations, it may be well 
 supposed that his directly religious charities were 
 large and unremitted. Before the existence of the 
 American Tract Society, he had published, at his own 
 expense, some of the most impressive sermons of Pres- 
 ident Edwards, as well as some other small practical 
 theological works, for gratuitous distribution. From 
 the commencement of that Society to his death, he was 
 one of its firmest friends and most liberal supporters. 
 In company with some other distinguished men, he pre- 
 sented it with the stereotype plates, from which Dod- 
 dridge's Rise and Progress of Religion and Baxter's 
 Saint's Rest are printed ; thus evincing his desire to 
 place in the hands of every man the sentiments from 
 which he had himself derived peculiar benefit. He took 
 a deep interest in the support of religious institutions. 
 The sums which he either gave, or else lent without 
 3 
 
18 
 
 hope of repa3'ment, towards the building of churches, 
 and the endowment in every part of our country of 
 colleges and academies, amounted probably to thou- 
 sands of dollars annually. Although he was conscien- 
 tiously a Baptist, yet his charities were rarely solicited 
 in vain by Christians of every other denomination. 
 
 Mr. Brown was fully aware of the established 
 relation between the cultivation of the moral and the 
 intellectual powers. He firmly believed that the dis- 
 semination of knowledge, and the improvement of the 
 understanding, were vitally important to the progress 
 of virtue and religion. Some of the most benevolent 
 acts of his life were prompted by these sentiments. 
 Of these it becomes me now briefly to speak. 
 
 Previously to the year 1836, the city of Providence 
 was destitute of a Hbrary in any measure commen- 
 surate with its wants, or worthy of its intellectual char- 
 acter. At this time, the Providence Library Company 
 and the Providence Atheneum relinquished their 
 separate organization, in order to be merged in a new 
 institution. The new^ Atheneum was incorporated in 
 January of that year. On the 29th of the following 
 February, the first meeting of the corporation was 
 held. On the 9th of March succeeding, the Board of 
 Directors received a letter offering to the Institution 
 a valuable site of land for an edifice, six thousand 
 dollars towards defraying the expenses of its erection, 
 and four thousand dollars towards the purchase of 
 books, on condidon that the citizens of Providence 
 contributed ten thousand dollars more towards the 
 edifice, and four thousand for the purchase of books, 
 
19 
 
 exclusive of what should be raised by the sale of 
 shares in the Atheneum. This letter was signed by 
 Nicholas Brown, and by Moses B. Ives, and Robert 
 H. Ives, for the estate of Thomas P. Ives, deceased. 
 Toward the amount thus subscribed, it is understood 
 that Mr. Brown contributed one half. The offer was 
 immediately accepted, and the requisite sum sub- 
 scribed. Thus were laid the foundations of the 
 Providence Atheneum, an institution from whose 
 existence a new era will be dated in the intellectual 
 and moral history of this city. 
 
 Of the value to this community of this act of noble 
 munificence, it is scarcely possible to speak in exag- 
 gerated terms. It is not too much to say, that but 
 for this donation it would not have existed. It com- 
 menced with the libraries of the two previous 
 institutions, amounting to 4162 volumes. Its annual 
 increase from the commencement has scarcely fallen 
 short of 1000 volumes. At the date of the last annual 
 report, it numbered on its catalogue 9187 volumes. 
 For the three years last, ending with September, 
 1841, the number of books loaned had amounted to 
 37,894. These books have been all selected with 
 discriminating caution, by a committee of our most 
 pure-minded, intelligent and judicious fellow-citizens. 
 They form a collection of the most valuable works of 
 which English literature can boast. Thus, through 
 the liberality of two families, whose names this city 
 will ever hold in grateful recollection, the means of 
 rich and varied intellectual and moral cultivation have 
 been placed within the reach of every individual 
 
20 
 
 among us. A fountain has been opened, whose pure 
 and fertilizing waters are carried to every family. 
 Here the young may derive instruction, and the aged 
 consolation. Thus will influences continually emanate 
 from that spot consecrated to virtue and knowledge, 
 pervading every rank, and penetrating to every class 
 of society, to invigorate the intellect, purify the taste, 
 and refine the manners; diffusing around every 
 fireside the charm of elegant letters and brilliant 
 conversation, delivering us from the dominion of the 
 passions, and multiplying a thousand fold, to all com- 
 ing generations, the sources of innocent enjoyment 
 and domestic bliss. So rich and so permanent are 
 the rewards of well-directed benevolence. 
 
 It becomes me, in the last place, to speak of the 
 peculiar relation in which Mr. Brown has stood to this 
 Institution. 
 
 In the year 1764, several gentlemen of the Baptist 
 persuasion, deeply impressed with the importance of 
 promoting the cultivation of science and letters, 
 resolved to establish in the colony of Rhode Island 
 and Providence plantations, an institution of learning. 
 Most of them were citizens of Rhode Island, though to 
 their number were very soon added all the most distin- 
 guished clergymen and laymen of that denomination 
 throughout the colonies. They applied to the Gen- 
 eral Assembly for a charter, and their application was 
 granted on the last Monday of February, 1764. 
 The first meeting of the corporation, under the charter, 
 was held at Newport, on the first Wednesday of 
 September of the same year, from which date the 
 history of the college commences. 
 
21 
 
 Among the most efficient promoters of this benevo- 
 lent design, were Mr. Nicholas Brown the father, and 
 his three brothers. On the early records of the 
 college, their names appear, more frequently than any 
 others, as its zealous and intelligent friends. 
 
 Very soon after the establishment of the institution, 
 a spirited effort was made throughout this country and 
 in Europe to raise the funds necessary for its endow- 
 ment. A sum quite considerable for those times was 
 collected, principally through the agency of the Rev. 
 Messrs. Morgan Edwards, Hezekiah Smith and John 
 Gano. These funds were, however, almost entirely 
 exhausted in erecting the building now known as 
 University Hall, or in repairing the injuries which it had 
 sustained while occupied as barracks and a hospital 
 during the revolutionary war. At the close of this 
 period, when the College was reorganized, the property 
 of the institution consisted of but very little more than 
 a single edifice for the accommodation of students, a 
 house for the President, and the site, then somewhat 
 extensive, on which they were erected. The library 
 was exceedingly small, and its philosophical apparatus 
 was scarcely deserving of the name. 
 
 Under these circumstances, the Rev. Dr. Manning 
 resumed his duties as President. The reputation of 
 his name, and the wide extent of his personal influ- 
 ence, attracted, in a few years, a very respectable 
 number of pupils. By his exertions, the library was 
 considerably increased, some small additions were 
 made to its funds, and a warm interest was awakened 
 in its favor among all the Baptist churches throughout 
 
22 
 
 the Union. Still its progress, though perceptible, was 
 slow. Its buildings did not increase, nor its means of 
 instruction in any remarkable degree improve. Its 
 friends were not generally wealthy, nor had they any 
 adequate conviction of the importance of professional 
 education to the church or to the world. It continued, 
 from the close of the Revolution to the year 1804, to 
 struggle under pecuniary difficulties, without the 
 means of enlarging its foundations, or rendering more 
 valuable the opportunities which it afforded for 
 intellectual cultivation. 
 
 In the year 1796, Mr. Brown was elected the 
 Treasurer of the College. In this situation he had a 
 full knowledge of its condition, and he soon directed 
 his attention to its relief. Previously to the year 1804, 
 he had presented it with a law library of considerable 
 value. On the sixth of September of that year, he 
 gave to the corporation the sum of five thousand 
 dollars for the purpose of founding a professorship of 
 Oratory and Belles Lettres. In the letter to the cor- 
 poration proffering this endowment, he refers to his 
 warm attachment to the College, as the place of his 
 education and of that of his brother ; and also from the 
 recollection that his late honored father was among its 
 earliest and most zealous patrons. In consequence 
 of this donation, it was at the same meeting of the 
 corporation voted, "that this College be called and 
 known by the name of Brown University." 
 
 For a series of years, under the Presidentship of 
 the eloquent and accomplished Dr. Maxcy, and of 
 the late Rev. Dr. Messer, a scholar of profound and 
 
23 
 
 varied learning, as well as an instructer of singular 
 ability, this institution continued to advance with 
 accelerated progress in usefulness and reputation. 
 Its means of accommodation to the pupils who 
 resorted hither for instruction, became at last wholly 
 inadequate to the demand, and an additional edifice 
 was absolutely necessary to its ulterior success. At 
 this crisis, Mr. Brown came forward to its aid. In 
 the year 1823, he erected, solely at his own expense, 
 the second college building, which, at his suggestion, 
 has since been known by the name of Hope College. 
 In his letter to the corporation, on this occasion, he 
 remarks, "Believing that the dissemination of knowl- 
 edge and letters is the great means of social happi- 
 ness, I have caused this edifice to be erected, and 
 now present it to this corporation to be held with their 
 other corporate property, according to their charter." 
 He closes this letter with the devout hope, that 
 " Heaven will bless and make it useful in the promo- 
 tion of virtue, science, and literature, to those of the 
 present and future generations, who may resort to this 
 University for education." 
 
 The means for the accommodation of students 
 were, by this act of munificence, more than doubled. 
 Important deficiencies in the various departments of 
 instruction remained yet to be supplied. The philo- 
 sophical apparatus which had been purchased at 
 different times, and most of it at a remote period, had 
 become, from ordinary wear and accident, almost unfit 
 for use. With the exception of a valuable astronom- 
 ical clock, and an excellent transit instrument by 
 
24 
 
 Troughton, the gift of Mr. J. C. Brown and Mr. R. 
 H. Ives, the whole of it was, I think, inferior to that 
 which at present we frequently see in the possession 
 of many of our high schools and academies. By the 
 liberality of Mr. Brown and his brother-in-law, Mr. 
 Thomas P. Ives, this department was at once placed 
 in its present advantageous position. These gentle- 
 men directed the faculty to order, at their expense, 
 such a suit of apparatus, in all the departments of 
 experimental science, as the wants of the University 
 seemed to require. These instruments were received 
 in the year 1829. The University was thus furnished 
 at once with as ample means for philosophical illus- 
 tration as almost any in our country, and superior, in 
 fact, to those possessed by many similar institutions in 
 Europe. 
 
 The library of the University, however, still re- 
 mained in its primitive condition. It consisted, for 
 the most part, of donations, which had been made in 
 America and Great Britain, during the early history of 
 the institution. Small appropriations from the general 
 funds of the University had occasionally been made, 
 in obedience to the demands of absolute necessity. 
 These, however, only relieved particular and immediate 
 wants. Nothing had yet been done to provide for its 
 permanent and progressive enlargement, or to enable 
 it to collect together the ever-coming results of human 
 thought, or put it in the power of the instructors to 
 avail themselves of the intellectual treasures of past 
 generations. The library room was an apartment in 
 University Hall, crowded to excess, unsightly and 
 
25 
 
 inconvenient, and wholly unsuited for the purpose to 
 which, from necessity, it was devoted. At this junc- 
 ture, the friends of the Institution proposed to supply 
 this great deficiency. A subscription was opened for 
 the purpose of raising the sum of ^25,000, of which 
 the interest was to be for ever appropriated to the 
 increase of the Library and the purchase of philosoph- 
 ical instruments. To this fund Mr. Brown gave the 
 sum of ^10,000, and, in order to the perfect accom- 
 plishment of the object, erected, at his own expense, 
 the beautiful edifice in which we are now assembled, 
 for a library room and chapel. This fund, by sub- 
 scription and accumulation of interest, has been raised 
 to the sum originally proposed, and it is now con- 
 ferring upon this University the rich benefits intended 
 by its benevolent and public spirited contributors. 
 To this edifice, Mr. Brown, in testimony of veneration 
 for his former instructer, gave the name of Manning 
 Hall. It was opened by appropriate services in 
 February, 1835. The amount given by Mr. Brown 
 on this occasion fell but litde short of thirty thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 These increasing facilities for instruction, however, 
 only rendered more apparent the additional wants of 
 the Institution. The departments of Physical Science 
 and of Natural Philosophy, under the superintendence 
 of the distinguished gentlemen to whose care they are 
 confided, had vastly increased in importance. Our 
 collection of specimens in Geology, already rich and 
 valuable, was rendered almost useless, from the fact 
 that no apartment could be provided in which it 
 4 
 
26 
 
 could be displayed. The University was almost 
 destitute of a Chemical laboratory, and the lecture 
 rooms for the Professors of Chemistry and Experi- 
 mental Science were small and inconvenient. The 
 grounds in front of the University buildings, suscep- 
 tible of great beauty, were rude and unimproved. 
 It had for some years been manifest, that another effort 
 was demanded in order to render in the fullest man- 
 ner available the intellectual resources of which the 
 University was already in possession. 
 
 Influenced by these considerations, Mr. Brown 
 again came forward with his accustomed liberality. 
 In a letter to the Treasurer, under the date of March 
 18, 1839, "he tendered to the corporation, for the 
 purpose of erecting a mansion for the President, and 
 another College edifice for the accommodation of the 
 departments of Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, 
 Mineralogy, and Natural History, three valuable lots 
 of land as sites for these buildings, and ten thousand 
 dollars, namely, seven thousand dollars for the Pres- 
 ident's house, and three thousand dollars towards the 
 erection of the College edifice and the improvement 
 of the adjacent grounds, provided an equal amount 
 be subscribed by the friends of the Institution before 
 the first of May next." 
 
 To this appeal, the friends of the University, with 
 great liberality and promptitude, cheerfully responded. 
 Before the first of May the subscription was more 
 than filled up. And it is with honest pride that I 
 add, that the whole sum, with the exception of about 
 six hundred dollars, was contributed by the citizens 
 
27 
 
 of Providence and its vicinity. The President's 
 house, and the edifice now known as Rhode Island 
 Hall, were immediately erected, and the latter was 
 opened with an address by Mr, William G. Goddard, 
 Professor of Belles Lettres, on the 4th of September, 
 1840. The grounds were graded and adorned, and 
 the surrounding premises placed in the condition in 
 which we now behold them. 
 
 This is the last act of munificence during the life- 
 time of Mr. Brown, which we have the pleasure to 
 record. In the following winter his health began 
 visibly to decline. He gradually sunk under the 
 pressure of disease, exhibiting, throughout the whole 
 of his protracted illness, a patience under suffering, a 
 resignation to the will of God, and an earnest reliance 
 for salvation on the merits of the Redeemer, which 
 gave the most cheering assurance that death has 
 introduced him to a blissful immortality. Surrounded 
 by those who venerated and loved him, he gently fell 
 asleep early in the morning of September 27, 1841, 
 in the seventy-third year of his age. 
 
 Mr. Brown made to the University several bequests 
 of land and other property, which as they become 
 due, will materially aid in promoting the purposes of 
 instruction. 
 
 I close this discourse with a few suggestions which 
 naturally arise from the preceding remarks. 
 
 Mr. Brown formed the habit of doing good in early 
 life. As one instance of liberality prepared his heart 
 
28 
 
 for another, his spirit was progressively enlarged 
 to greater capacity for benevolence. His charities 
 became, with advancing years, greater; and they 
 followed each other in more and more rapid succes- 
 sion. He thus enjoyed in his own soul the happiness 
 of increasing goodness. Nor was this all. He had 
 the pleasure of witnessing for himself the effects of 
 his beneficence. He saw this University, under his 
 fostering care, rising from its early depression, and 
 taking its place side by side with the cherished 
 institutions of New England. He not only sowed the 
 seed, but was himself permitted to reap the harvest. 
 Let us learn wisdom from this impressive example. 
 Why should a man postpone the period of his 
 benevolence until the time when the love of wealth, 
 eating like a canker into his soul, has paralyzed every 
 generous sentiment ; or until death, loosening by force 
 his grasp upon his possessions, has rendered the 
 virtue of charity impossible. Why should we put 
 off the doing of good until the motives of goodness 
 can no longer impel us. Let us now in life enjoy for 
 ourselves the luxury of benevolence. 
 
 I think that we may learn from what I have said, 
 something of the trjue use of riches. Observe the 
 results which in this instance have begun to flow 
 from judicious liberality. An institution has here 
 been founded, which we hope will continue to all 
 future time to scatter abroad " the benefits of science 
 and the blessings of religion." Its cheering influences 
 have been already observed in the courts of justice and 
 
29 
 
 in the halls of legislation. Already has it swayed the 
 senate by its eloquence, and illuminated the bench by 
 its wisdom. Already has it contributed its humble 
 share to the elevation of our national character, by the 
 diffusion of virtuous and high-minded public sentiment. 
 Nor is its effect less remarkable upon the pulpit. It 
 has, in instances I had almost said without number, 
 given to our churches a learned, intelligent, and pious 
 ministry, — a ministry, which without its aid would have 
 been obliged to labor on through life in ignorance and 
 obscurity. To what extent it has thus enlarged the 
 dominion of virtue and religion, you can conceive 
 better than I can express. All this will, we hope, 
 go on increasing to unnumbered generations. All 
 this is, to a very great degree, the result of the use of 
 a small portion of that wealth with which God had 
 entrusted a single man. In what other way could it 
 have been so appropriated as to yield so glorious a 
 result ? In what other manner can we so truly confer 
 a benefit upon those that come after us ? If you must 
 leave to your children wealth, surround them, I 
 beseech you, with an atmosphere of goodness, that 
 shall protect them from temptation, and stimulate them 
 by the force of your example to still more noble deeds 
 of virtue and benevolence. 
 
 I have remarked that Mr. Brown was very universally 
 appealed to whenever benevolent aid was needed 
 among us. In one respect, perhaps, this was a 
 disadvantage to this city. It taught us to rely too 
 exclusively upon his assistance. We can thus rely 
 no longer. Henceforth we must be conscious that 
 
30 
 
 a more imperative duty devolves upon each one of 
 us. Let the results of his munificence encourage us 
 to follow his example. The foundations of this 
 University are laid ; they are, however, we hope, to be 
 enlarged and the superstructure is to be erected. 
 Why should its means of instruction in every branch 
 of human learning be inferior to those of any University 
 in our land ? Benevolent institutions of various kinds 
 are greatly needed among us. The capabilities of 
 our city and its environs are exceeded by those of 
 very few that I have ever seen. Why should not a 
 benevolent public spirit delight itself in multiplying 
 and improving the forms of beauty and loveliness 
 every where around us ? Why should not this city 
 be the cherished home of justice and of law, of 
 intellectual cultivation and of refined taste, of unde- 
 filed morality and of high souled public sentiment? 
 Let every man among us answer it to himself. 
 
M 
 
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