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 Piiilomatiiian Hall, Sept. 18, 1844. 
 Maj. B. F. Perry: 
 
 Sir : — We, the undersigned, having the honor of repre- 
 senting the Philomathian Society, after having heard your very eloquent 
 and elaborate Address on this day, do tender you our individual thanks, for 
 honoring us as you have done, and request a copy of the same for publica- 
 tion, desiring that the noble and profound sentiments contained therein, may- 
 be disseminated throughout our country. 
 
 Yours, respectfully, 
 
 A. F. QUAY, 
 
 W. A. STOKES, £ Committee. 
 
 J. F. DONALD. 
 
 Lindsay's Hotel, Sept. 18, 1844. 
 Gentlemen : — A copy of the Address which I had the honor of making 
 before you to-day, is herewith sent you. It is at your disposal. 
 
 Permit me again to express to you the high gratification which your 
 performances to-day have given me. They would have been creditable to 
 any College in the Southern States. And I can but express my regret, 
 that the modesty and diffidence of your learned President and Professors, 
 have prevented their Institution being so well known abroad as it ought to 
 be. But their merits, and the merits of Erskine College, are destined to- 
 be known and appreciated by the whole country. 
 
 With great respect, Gentlemen, I am yours, &c. 
 
 B. F. PERRY. 
 Messrs. Quay, Stokes and Donald, Committee. 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 An illustrious poet has said, more in the spirit of philosophy than of 
 rsong, that " the proper study of mankind is man." The wisdom of this 
 remark can but strike the mind of every one. It is not only the proper 
 study of man to know his own faults and imperfections, to find out his own 
 intellectual powers and ability, so that he may govern his passions and 
 evil propensities, and cultivate judiciously those gifts of mind and body 
 which his God has bestowed upon him, but it is proper that he should study 
 the lives and characters of his fellow men, see their faults, and learn to im- 
 itate their virtues. 
 
 Nothing can conduce more to the improvement of the young mind, than 
 the reading and contemplation of the . lives of great and good men — men 
 who have borne an illustrious part in the affairs of this world. It is by 
 knowing and studying their virtues, their noble deeds and heroic daring, 
 that we are inspired with emulation, and encouraged to imitate their noble 
 examples. In the history of such men, we are taught by example to turn 
 from vice, and to admire and love virtue. We see how great and happy 
 they have become, how much they have been honored, and what noble re- 
 wards they have met for their well doing in this life. And although in 
 many instances their cotemporaries may have been ungrateful, yet succeed- 
 ing generations have never failed to do them justice. 
 
 It is said that men are known and to be judged by the company they 
 keep. That there is something in human nature which has a tendency to 
 adapt itself to the circumstances which surround us, must be obvious to ev- 
 ery one. And it is perhaps fortunate that we are so constituted — otherwise 
 our unhappiness and discontent would.be greatly augmented in this life. — 
 Is it not something, then, to be in company with the wise and great who 
 have gone before us ? In the study of Biography, we are in such compa- 
 ny. We are made familiar with their lives, actions and thoughts, and 
 they leave their impress upon our own characters and feelings. 
 
 No man ever read the autobiography of Franklin, and studied his char- 
 acter, without feeling himself a wiser and better man. The young, enter- 
 ing upon the trying and busy scenes of this world, feel themselves stimula- 
 ted and encouraged by the difficulties and trials which beset the early path 
 of that sage and benefactor of mankind. In the character of Franklin, there 
 was a rare combination of wisdom, simplicity and greatness, without one 
 feeling of envy or unkindness towords his fellow men. His sole object in 
 this life seems to have been to do good to others, and to prepare himself for 
 doing the greatest good. There is no one whose life is more worthy of be- 
 ing read, or whose character can be studied to greater advantage* 
 
 He rose from the humblest walks of life, without education, and without 
 the aid or assistance of any one, to be, in the language of the Earl of Chat- 
 ham, "an ornament to human nature, and the admiration of all Europe." 
 The secret of his rise and greatness was his industry and integrity of pur- 
 pose. They naturally and necessarily lead to the cultivation of those oth- 
 er virtues, which so beautifully adorn his character. And there is scarce- 
 ly one in which he did not excel. He knew well that no one could be 
 great or useful without industry, no matter what may be his talents or gen- 
 ius. 
 
Let me here remark, that this principle cannot be too strongly impress- 
 ed upon the minds of young men. In every pursuit of life, industry and 
 application are every thing. The human mind is so constituted, that we 
 cannot be altogether inactive. Employment of some kind we must have. 
 If not usefully and wisely employed, we shall certainly be engaged unwise- 
 ly or viciously. Hence the absolute necessity of selecting some useful 
 pursuit in life, and early learning habits of industry and study. 
 
 The industry of Franklin was as remarkable as his success in life was 
 wonderful. Whilst an apprentice boy, he lived on bread and water, in or- 
 der to have time to read, whilst his companions were gone to their meals ! 
 He was equally industrious in after-life, wherever we see him, whether as 
 an Editor of a newspaper, the Colonel of a Regiment, a member of Con- 
 gress, the Embassador at foreign courts, or the sage and philosopher amidst 
 the learned Societies of Europe. He was a man of great observation as 
 well as industry, and no opportunity escaped him, either at home or abroad, 
 in noticing and treasuring up the remembrance of every thing which came 
 before him. In this way he made many of his most important discoveries 
 in Natural Philosophy. He tells us that he reaped the truth of a proverb 
 which he was early taught by his father : " Seest thou a man diligent in 
 his calling, he will stand before kings and princes." He had the honor not 
 only of standing before many kings and princes, but even that of silting 
 down at the same table and dining with some of them. 
 
 Franklin's benevolence and justice were equal to his industry and econ- 
 omy. No one had the good of mankind more at heart than he had ; no one 
 ever labored more assiduously to improve the condition of his fellow men. 
 He practiced, what few seem to know, that the most acceptable service we 
 can render our God, is that of doing good to one another. He refused to 
 take out patents for his important discoveries in the useful arts, because they 
 were discoveries which would lead to the comfort and benefit of mankind, 
 and to the free enjoyment of them he would lay no restrictions. So high 
 was his sense of justice, that he gave to charitable and public purposes all 
 that he had saved from his salary, whilst in the employment of his coun- 
 try. 
 
 Franklin united in his character the simplicity of a child with the wisdom 
 of the sage. His boldest and most brilliant experiments in natural phi- 
 losophy were conducted with a simplicity truly amazing. A silk cord, a 
 key, and a piece of brown paper, were the only apparatus used by him in 
 drawing down the lightnings from heaven. 
 
 The character of Washington is a noble and proud model for the study 
 of the patriot and hero. History can give us no other example, at once so 
 perfect and so illustrious. He was an utter stranger to that feeling which 
 has darkened the character of so many who have rendered great services 
 to their country. He possessed a proud purity of purpose and magnanimi- 
 ty of spirit, which never permitted him to entertain one selfish feeling. — 
 All that he did was for the good of his country, wholly and solely. He 
 lost sight of himself altogether, whilst in the service of his country. His 
 greatness sprang from and rested on a pure heart and unerring judgment. 
 He made no pretensions to the brilliancy of genius or the wisdom of learn- 
 ing. His only ambition was to be useful to his country. He cared not for 
 power, and looked with indifference on mere honors. He accepted office, 
 only to render service to his country. 
 
 In the character of this great man, there is one feature which we cannot 
 study too much. Like Franklin, his aim through life was to to master him- 
 self, and have the control of his own feelings and passions. He was by 
 
5 
 
 nature a man of violent temper, strong feelings and passions. They would 
 have often led him astray, but for his command of himself. And his self- 
 control was as perfect as his ambition was spotless. 
 
 How few are there in this world, who make it their study to control and 
 master their own passions and bad feelings ! And yet how important is 
 this study in the life of every one. How much of evil, how much of dan- 
 ger, and how much of misery and ruin should we avoid, if we were to do 
 so. Franklin's self-scrutiny carried him so far as to make him keep a di- 
 ary of his faults and errors. He not only rose in the morning with a de- 
 termination to do well, and restrain all of his evil passions and propensities, 
 but at night he enquired of himself whether he had done so, and wrote 
 down every omission. 
 
 In the lives and characters of most great men, we shall find that their 
 greatness is too often sullied by some weakness or glaring faults of char- 
 acter. Few men are perfect. But we may profit as much by the faults 
 of great men, as by their virtues. Like dark spots on a bright picture, we 
 see them the more readily, and more deeply regret them, on account of 
 the brightness of the picture. 
 
 Such must be the feelings of every one, in contemplating the character 
 of Lord Bacon, who has been unjustly styled " the wisest, greatest, basest 
 of mankind." He was endowed by nature with a mighty intellect, a gen- 
 ius which seemed to encompass the whole circle of human science. He 
 had amassed treasures of learning, which no one man ever before posses- 
 sed. And yet, with all his genius and learning, he possessed weaknesses 
 and faults which would have sullied the character of the humblest man 
 who lived in his day and time. One would naturally suppose, too, that 
 such a man, possessing a mind imbued with so much wisdom and philoso- 
 phy, would soar above the ordinary vices and frailties of our nature. But 
 not so. Lord Bacon has been charged with base ingratitude to his friend 
 and patron, the Earl of Essex ! He not only forgot all the magnificent 
 presents which the noble Earl had made him, and all the generous acts of 
 kindness which he had received at his hands, when poor and humble, but 
 he sought the blood and life of his patron, with all the insolence and ven- 
 geance of a malignant and unprincipled prosecutor ! He has likewise been 
 charged with bribery and corruption, whilst discharging the high duties of 
 Lord Chancellor of England. 
 
 That these charges are true, to the extent to which they have been made, 
 may admit of some doubt. For his conduct towards the Earl of Essex, 
 there are some excuses offered by his biographer. But no excuse can pal- 
 liate the crime of ingratitude so wanton and so foul. That he received mo- 
 ney from suitors, whilst Lord Chancellor, is very certain ; but it was then 
 the custom and habit of that court. And although Lord Bacon never re- 
 fused money which was offered him as a bribe, he nevertheless decided all 
 of his cases according to law and equity, without being influenced by the 
 bribe which he had pocketed. 
 
 The great faults in the character of Lord Bacon, grew out of his want 
 of firmness — a natural defect in his character, which no genius nor learn- 
 ing could supply. But for this infirmity, terrible as it proved in its conse- 
 quences, his character would, in all probability, have been as bright as his 
 genius was illustrious. He wanted firmness to resist the overtures and 
 commands of his Sovereign. Owing to this, he engaged in the prosecution 
 of his early friend and patron, instead of boldly resigning his office, and 
 giving up all future honors at the Court of Elizabeth. Owing to this want 
 of firmness, he was induced, by the threats and persuasions of King James 
 
and his infamous Minister, the Duke of Buckingham, to plead guilty to all 
 the charges of high crimes and misdemeanors which had been preferred a- 
 gainst him. Had he possessed the high, indomitable courage which should 
 have belonged to his genius, he could have defended himself with great 
 plausibility, if not with entire success! But then the odium which fell on 
 his head, would have had to be borne by the King and his favorite minion. 
 
 Without firmness and high moral courage, no man can act correctly, no 
 matter how pure his principles may be. Without firmness, no man is to 
 bedepended on in any great emergency. He may know the proper course 
 to pursue, and resolve to pursue it, but he will not be able to resist the im- 
 portunities and threats of those who would mislead him. 
 
 In his philosophy, Lord Bacon manifested as much boldness and original- 
 ity, as he did meanness and subserviency in politics and law. This was 
 because he had not there to contend with his fellow man. He was left, in 
 the field of philosophy, to his own genius. And it is strange that one 
 should have the boldness to explore the mysteries of nature, and to pry in- 
 to the highest works of his God, and yet want firmness enough to resist the 
 importunities of an unprincipled courtier ! However corrupt Lord Bacon 
 may have been in law and politics, or friendship and morals, he was per- 
 fectly pure and correct in his philosophy. In other matters, he may have 
 sought honors, or been mercenary in his feelings ; but in this, his great sys- 
 tem of philosophy, he sought only truth. 
 
 Lord Bacon lived in the most illustrious age of English history, and was 
 surrounded by many of the greatest and most remarkable men the world 
 ever produced. Shakspeare and Ben Johnson were his cotemporaries. — 
 Lord Coke was his great rival at the Bar, and his victor at the shrine of 
 beauty. The learned, brilliant and accomplished Sir Walter Raleigh flour- 
 ished at the same Court, as did the equally unfortunate Essex. But the 
 genius of Bacon was towering invisibly high above them ail — no one ap- 
 proached him, and no one was to be compared to him. He stood alone in 
 the greatness of his learning and the splendor of his mighty genius. 
 
 To pass from the character of Lord Bacon, the great statesman, lawyer 
 and philosopher, to that of Napoleon Bonaparte, the hero and conqueror, is 
 easy and natural, although they differ so widely in many of their essentials 
 of greatness. Bonaparte, without any learning, to be called by that name, 
 possessed a genius more gigantic, an intellect more mighty,than ever before 
 fell to the lot of human nature. No one can read his life, and study his 
 character, without being struck with awe as to the extent of his genius and 
 ability. What others learned by hard study and laborious research, he 
 seemed to have by intuition. He had scarcely ever read a legal principle 
 in his life, and yet in the formation of the Napoleon Code, he showed him- 
 self more familiar with the principles of law, than the wisest and most 
 learned lawyers of France. As a civil ruler, he never had an equal. It 
 is doubtful whether all the sovereigns of the earth, from the creation of the 
 world to the present time, could furnish, if their rarest and highest gifts 
 were selected, the materials to compose so great a governor of mankind 
 and ruler of nations, as Napoleon Bonaparte. 
 
 As an orator, few men ever equalled him, if we are to judgeof eloquence 
 by the effects which it produces on the audience. Bonaparte would say 
 more striking things in a speech of ten minutes, than was ever said in an 
 hour by Cicero or Demosthenes. Fie could accomplish the intended effect 
 of a speech, before the polished Roman or Athenian would be able to get 
 through the exordium. As a writer, his style is worthy of being taken as 
 a model, by every one who wishes to express his ideas in the fewest words. 
 
and in the most forcible manner. He is also the most voluminous writer 
 the world has ever produced. It is said by Allison, in his charming histo- 
 ry of Europe, that Napoleon wrote more than Voltaire, Bollingbroke and 
 Sir Walter Scott, all put together. This he did in the midst of his army, 
 on the field of battle, and whilst governing with the minutest particularity 
 the varied interests of the millions who were subject to his sway. 
 
 As a General, he surpassed all the conquerors who had ever preceded 
 him. It is true that Alexander was a younger man than Napoleon, when 
 he made his Eastern conquests, and the countries subdued may have equal- 
 led those conquered by Napoleon, in population and extent of territory. — - 
 But the Persians, Egyptians and Indians were an effeminate and luxurious 
 people, and never have been able to withstand a hardy, disciplined and or- 
 ganized force. The conquests of Great Britain, at this time, in a portion 
 of that country, show the facility with which an army may pass through 
 those Eastern nations. There seems to be something in the climate of a 
 Southern people which enervates and enfeebles them. 
 
 Hannibal may, with more propriety, be compared to Napoleon as a Gen- 
 eral. There is some analogy between them and their fortunes. They both 
 had to contend with the same difficulties, in many instances, and they both 
 fought against disciplined forces, experienced Generals, and a highly civil- 
 ized people. They were both highly successful for a time, and were both 
 ultimately conquered. But Napoleon knew how to improve on a victory, 
 and secure a country, when once conquered. This, the Carthagenian seems 
 not so well to have understood. 
 
 Julius Csesar and Napoleon Bonaparte were very much alike in their 
 characters and conduct as Generals — attending to the comforts of their 
 soldiers, enduring fatigue, exposing themselves to danger, robbing the con- 
 quered countries to maintain their own armies and corrupt their own citi- 
 zens. They were alike in the rapidity of their movements and the secre- 
 cy of their attack. But Csesar's conquests were all made over a barbarous 
 and half civilized people, except the conquest of his own country. In point 
 of intellect there may also be instituted some sort of comparison. Julius 
 Csesar was one of the first orators of Rome — perhaps next to Cicero himself. 
 He was also a beautiful writer, as may be seen by his Commentaries. — 
 That he was a wise and successful governor of mankind, cannot admit of 
 a doubt. 
 
 The great fault in Bonaparte's character, was his selfishness. This led 
 to all the errors of his life. He was by nature kind-hearted and affection- 
 ate. There was nothing of cruelty in his temper or disposition, except 
 when it became necessary to promote his own selfish views. He loved Jo- 
 sephine ardently and passionately ; she had shared with him his humbler 
 fortunes, and had patiently endured with him the fatigues of some of his 
 campaigns ; but he put her away, and married a woman whom he had nev- 
 er seen, because she was the Arch Duchess of Austria, and he was anxious 
 to have an heir to his throne. He loved his brothers, and made them kings 
 and princes ; and yet he treated them like slaves, for the gratification of 
 his own ambition. Fie loved his officers, and crowned them with honors, 
 wealth and distinction; he was as kind as a father to his soldiers, and has 
 been seen administering with his own hand to their humblest wants on the 
 field of battle ; he studied the comforts of his army with a philanthropy 
 which would do credit to a Howard ; he has been known to yield his own 
 horse to his sick soldiery, and expose his life in the hospitals of Egypt, at- 
 tending to their comforts. But in order to gratify his unhallowed ambition, 
 to gain a battle or conquer a nation, or add a new laurel to his brow, he 
 
9 
 
 would sacrifice officers and men by thousands and hundreds of thousands. 
 
 J n one respect he was certainly the opposite of Lord Bacon. There was 
 no want of firmness in his character. His courage was indomitable. — 
 Nothing could shake it. To his mind there were no terrors. He cared 
 not for the combined forces of Europe. With an army of fifty thousand 
 men, he would undertake to conquer one of three hundred thousand ! We 
 sec him, almost solitary and alone, escaping from Elba, and throwing him- 
 self into the midst of an army of ten thousand, sent to capture him. With- 
 out an army, and without a dollar in his treasury, we see him putting him- 
 self in hostile array to the combined forces of England, Austria, Prussia 
 and Russia. Neither power, nor wealth, nor the smiles of beauty, nor 
 the fascinations of glory and fame could make him yield or falter in his 
 resolution. 
 
 Hut for his selfishness, Napoleon would have been one of the best, as 
 well as one of the greatest of men. His fame would have been sullied by 
 no crime, though it might have been far different from what it is in splen- 
 dor and brilliancy. But in how many characters, great and small, do we 
 see this same fault blazing forth conspicuously, and marring and destroying 
 all that is beautiful or useful in their lives ! How common a fault is it in 
 the character of mankind ! We find it, more or less, in the heart of every 
 one. How hard, therefore, should we endeavor to guard against it ! In the 
 character of Bonaparte, how fatal was it ! With what crimes did it cover 
 him all over ! For twenty years it destroyed the peace of Europe, over- 
 turned Empires, subdued nations, and destroyed the fairest and richest cit- 
 ies of the earth. 
 
 There is much to study in the character of Dr. Johnson, the great moral- 
 ist — many traits to admire, and some to condemn. His life, as written by 
 Boswell, is, perhaps, the most admirable specimen of biography to be found 
 in the English language. It makes us thoroughly and minutely acquaint- 
 ed with the man. And how different does Dr. Johnson appear, in the pages 
 of Boswell, from any character which we may form of him from his own 
 writings. In fact, this great leviathan of literature had two characters — 
 the character in which he wrote — calm, dignified and philosophical — and 
 the one in which he spoke, which was impatient, violent and rude, ap- 
 proaching vulgarity. He was overbearing and insulting in his conversa- 
 tion and intercourse with his fellow men. But in his writings, he acts and 
 speaks the moralist and philosopher in every line. His style of writing is 
 stiff and formal, showing great labor of thought in the formation of his sen- 
 tences. But he conversed in a free, easy and natural style. 
 
 Dr. Johnson was a man of great learning and ability, great labor and in- 
 dustry, but not regular in his studies or mental efforts. He was a most 
 kind-hearted and charitable man, but he had no respect for the feelings of 
 others. No man would relieve physical want or suffering more cheerfully 
 than Dr. Johnson, or make greater sacrifices to do so ; but he would inflict 
 the greatest mental anguish, without being moved, and do it with a delibe- 
 ration truly savage ! He was a man of great and sincere piety, but his 
 religion was not free from the blindest superstition. With all of his strength 
 of intellect, he was possessed of weaknesses which would be laughed at in 
 a child. He believed in ghosts, and would always enter the house with a 
 particular foot first, never being known to enter with the other foremost. 
 He was a very patriotic man, but he most cordially despised those who dif- 
 fered with him in politics, although they were equally patriotic with him- 
 self. Such were some of the inconsistencies in the character of this great 
 man, and they are found, in some measure, in the character of every one. 
 
9 
 
 Dr. Johnson had great confidence, as well he might have, in his virtue, 
 morality and piety. He was a philosopher, and could advise others to look 
 with indifference on this life, and all its charms and pleasures. He was 
 wedded to no absorbing pleasure, and had no strong ties or attachments to 
 bind him to this world. And yet he could never contemplate death without 
 the greatest horror. The idea of dying would always fill his mind with 
 terrors unspeakable. 
 
 But the great fault in his character was his want of manners, his vio- 
 lence, his rudeness and his coarseness. If he he had tried as hard to im- 
 prove his temper and manners as he did to treasure up learning, he might 
 have left behind him a more enviable character ; one which we could study 
 and imitate to much greater advantage. The scholar and learned man is 
 too apt to disregard the study and practice of those courtesies and ameni- 
 ties of life, which make our intercourse with each other pleasant and a- 
 greeable. Manners are to be acquired, as well as science and literature, 
 and they are just as important to us through life. 
 
 One of the proudest and noblest characters in English history, is that of 
 John Hampden. He was a gentleman by birth and education. He was a 
 gentleman in manners, feelings, and intercourse with his fellow men ; a 
 country gentleman of learning, talents, high honor and noble patriotism. — 
 He was a bold and disinterested man, modest and unassuming ; he never 
 thrust himself forward in the world. When a great and terrible crisis 
 came in the affairs of his country, he cheerfully took the position of dan- 
 ger and responsibility ; he placed himself at the head of those who were 
 contending for the constitutional rights and liberties of England, and nobly 
 did he sustain his position. His character may well be studied. It is a 
 model for the gentleman, the scholar, the statesman, the patriot and the no- 
 ble and disinterested man. His firm spirit and high sense of justice could 
 not see the laws and chartered rights of his country trampled upon by a 
 tyrannical and perfidious Sovereign, without nobly exposing his person, his 
 fortune and his life in their defence. He was the most moderate of his 
 party, and the most disinterested of all who thought of opposition to Charles 
 the First. But no sooner did he hear that the great privilege of an Eng- 
 lish Commoner, that of granting supplies, was to be taken from him, and 
 taxes levied in the shape of ship money, than he determined not to pay those 
 taxes, however trifling his share of them might be. Unfortunately for his 
 country, unfortunately for English liberty and the cause of humanity, he 
 fell in the first skirmish which took place between the King and his Parlia- 
 ment. For purity of purpose, devotion to the principles of constitutional 
 liberty, high and unflinching firmness in defence of those principles, he has 
 had but one equal ; that was Washington ; and like Washington, his 
 public career is faultless. Well may he be taken as the patriot model. 
 
 The character of the Earl of Chatham, the great Commoner of England, 
 is that of a proud patriot, possessed of all the greatness of a bold and fear- 
 less statesman, brilliant and overpowering in his eloquence, but with none 
 of the simplicity of true greatness. Every thing which he did, every word 
 which he uttered, was done for effect. He was, indeed, as his critics have 
 said of him, a stage actor. His whole life was a piece of action, but it 
 was noble, brilliant and dazzling. He was, however, a pure patriot, incor- 
 ruptible, and if ambitious of power, it was only for the purpose of serving 
 his country more effectually. 
 
 The eloquence of Chatham was of the highest order. The speaking of 
 no man, perhaps, ever produced a more grand effect on his audience. His 
 denunciations, his sarcasm, his scorn, were terrible and overpowering. — ■ 
 
19 
 
 Much, however, of tire effect which his speeches produced, was no doubt 
 owing to his manner. He spoke to a few hundred persons, and not to the 
 English nation. His speeches were not to be reported, and therefore his- 
 only care was about their immediate effect. Me believed with the great 
 Athenian orator, that action was every thing, where a speech was only to* 
 be heard. But action is nothing, when the speech is to be read, and all 
 speeches are now made with that view. There can be no doubt that this 
 fact has had a most fatal effect on modern- eloquence. No longer do we 
 witness in the halls of legislation the fire and energy of Demosthenes, or 
 the thunder and lightning of Chatham. In their places, we have a cold 
 and verbose eloquence, which, instead of firing up and carrying off the 
 feelings of the audience, only tends to make them more dull and lethargic. 
 
 The difference between listening to a speech and reading it, cannot be 
 better illustrated than by reference to the speeches of Edna-und Burke and 
 Patrick Henry. The English language does not afford speeches more pro- 
 found, more philosophic, more brilliant or more eloquent than those of 
 Burke. His style is indeed rich and magnificently ornate r but the statue 
 is worthy of the drapery. His argument and illustrations are as able and 
 as beautiful as his language is ornamented. Whilst reading his speeches, 
 we know not whether most to admire his profound reasoning or his rich and 
 gorgeous style. One would suppose, from reading these speeches, that 
 the eloquence of such an orator would have been irresistible and overpow- 
 ering — that the stillness of death would have prevailed whilst one of then* 
 was being, delivered in the House of Commons, and that crowds would have 
 gathered from all parts of the great metropolis of England to hear them. 
 But how different was the fact. Burke could never get a respectable au- 
 dience to listen to one of his speeches. The announcement of his inten- 
 tion to speak was literally a clearing of the House. Even friendship and 
 respect for the speaker, could not induce many to bear the infliction of his- 
 dullness. One of his speeches, that on American Taxation, was said to be 
 so dull that even an intimate friend could not endure its delivery, but 
 sneaked out of the House of Commons, under tables and benches, to pre- 
 vent being seen. The next morning, however,, when that speech was re- 
 ported in the London papers, this friend not only read it, but wore out the- 
 newspaper in reading it over and over again. 
 
 How different are the speeches of Patrick Henry. The thrill of his el- 
 oquence has become traditionary in Virginia, and yet tradition cannot tell 
 us what he said. The effect is remembered, and has been repeated from 
 father to son, but the words were forgotten, as well as the sentiment or 
 idea expressed. His powers as an orator were, however, irresistible. No 
 one ever thought of leaving the Virginia House ©f Burgesses whilst Pat- 
 rick Henry was speaking. Nor did his audience think of any thing else 
 whilst he was speaking, except what fell from his lips. He held them spell- 
 bound, physically and mentally. Their thoughts, their reason, their judg- 
 ment and their feelings were all, for the time being, surrendered to him, 
 and he made them think, feel and act as he pleased. 
 
 Fortunately for the fame of his eloquence, hw of his speeches have 
 been handed down to us. Those that we have, and some of them were re- 
 garded as his greatest efforts, are so destitute of all the essentials of great 
 speaking and eloquence, that they would do no credit to a school boy. — 
 Whilst reading them, we naturally inquire of ourselves whether it is possi- 
 ble such speeches could have come from the Virginia Demosthenes ; and 
 above all, whether they could have produced the wonderful effects they 
 did, on the people of Virginia.. 
 
11 
 
 In the Virginia debates on the adoption of the Federal Constitution, we 
 liave the speeches of Patrick Henry, Chief Justice Marshall and James 
 Madison, thrown side by side. Henry was incomparably the most eloquent 
 of the three, if we judge from the reputation they have left behind them. 
 But it will not do to compare their written speeches. We had as well think 
 of instituting a comparison between the efforts of a young Sophomore and 
 those of a profound statesman and orator. 
 
 We have few of the speeches of Lord Chatham. Those that we have, 
 are more the speeches of Johnson and the other reporters, than they are of 
 Chatham. None of his speeches were written out by himself, or even cor- 
 rected by him. They must, therefore, be badly reported ; but after making 
 these just allowances, they fall very far short of his reputation as an elo- 
 quent and powerful debater. It is said that Lord Chatham was nothing 
 in reply — that he did not care for the last word in debate, which was al- 
 ways a matter of so much importance to his great rival, Lord Plolland. — 
 Like Demosthenes, he could say nothing unless he had thought beforehand 
 on the subject. 
 
 This trait in the character of certain great orators deserves our serious 
 consideration. It is said that Demosthenes never could be induced to take 
 a part in any discussion, without previous preparation. When called on 
 by the Athenians to reply to some one who had spoken, he kept his seat, and 
 could not be induced to speak. But Demosthenes was a mere orator. He 
 was not, like Cicero, an accomplished scholar and profound statesman — a 
 man of great learning and science. Hence the reluctance which he had 
 to speaking without preparation, ft is idle to suppose that any one can 
 speak well on a subject which he has not thought of and studied at some 
 period of his life. And on the contrary, it is an easy matter for any one 
 to speak on a subject familiar to his mind, and which he thoroughly com- 
 prehends. Nothing ean be more erroneous than the idea that some men 
 are more eloquent without any preparation at all. If they have been el- 
 oquent on the spur of the occasion, it is always owing to the fact that the 
 subject has long occupied their thoughts and feelings. If they had not 
 studied the subject of their speech the day before, they had the year be- 
 fore, or at some previous time. 
 
 It was thought of Sheridan, that many of his most magnificent bursts of 
 eloquence were impromptus — that they were made extempore, and without 
 previous thought or preparation. But instead of this having been the case, 
 it was afterwards discovered that he had written out at length all of those 
 eloquent speeches which seemed to have been the production of the mo- 
 ment. He had, however, studiously concealed his labor and preparation 
 from his associates. Such, too, will be found to be the case with all ready 
 and eloquent speakers. It is a mistake to suppose that any one can be 
 great without an effort — and equally mistaken is the notion that any one 
 ean be eloquent without study. 
 
 Eloquence and liberty are congenial. They have always flourished to- 
 gether. The one cannot exist without the other. And the world knows 
 nothing of eloquence, except as it existed in Greece and Rome, and still 
 exists in England and America. The French nation never produced an 
 orator until the spirit of liberty burst asunder the chains which had so 
 long enslaved that people. The first germs of French eloquence are to be 
 found in their Revolutionary Assembly. 
 
 Mirabeau is, perhaps, the first Frenchman who deserves the name of an 
 orator, and he was by far the greatest, as well as the first. His eloquence 
 was of the most powerful and commanding order. He governed the Na- 
 tional Assembly, from the time he first took his seat in it, to the day of his 
 
12 
 
 death, with absolute power. ITe was a man of great talents, great bold- 
 ness, commanding person, and huge, hideous, though intellectual head and 
 face. He was a nobleman by birth, but had been rejected by his own or- 
 der in the elections. He then became the representative of the people, 
 and swore vengeance against that nobility from whose confidence and soci- 
 ety he had been expelled. During this stormy period of French history, 
 there arose many orators and eloquent men. They disappeared, however, 
 as soon as the tyranny of Robespierre had gained the ascendancy. 
 
 On the accession of Napoleon to power, he soon suppressed what little 
 of eloquence had again sprung up in the French Chamber of Deputies. — 
 But he was the great and munificent patron of literature, the arts and sci- 
 ences. And how different is the spirit of literature from that of eloquence. 
 The one seems as naturally to seek the quiet and stillness of despotism, as 
 the other does the rough and stormy violence of liberty. 
 
 In the existence of great men, there is one thing remarkable. If we 
 look into ancient and modern history, we shall see that most great men 
 have existed in clusters. They have seldom appeared solitary and alone, 
 but have always had cotemporaries and associates in their greatness. — 
 Homer and Hesiod, the most ancient of poets, and still the most remarka- 
 ble, were supposed to have lived about the same time. Herodotus, the fa- 
 ther of Historious, was the cotemporary of Thucydides and Xenophon, two 
 of the most beautiful of ancient historians. Sophocles, Euripides and 
 Aeschylus, the most distinguished dramatic poets of Greece, flourished a- 
 bout the same era. In philosophy, there were living at the same time, So- 
 crates and Plato — the tutor and pupil teaching the immortality of the soul, 
 and inculcating the sublimest principles of morality and virtue. Demos- 
 thenes flourished with many orators, Lysias, Isocrates and others, who would 
 have been more conspicuous, but for his own great and overshadowing elo- 
 quence. He was also the cotemporary of Aristotle, the most distinguish- 
 ed of ancient philosophers. And Aristotle was the friend and tutor of 
 Alexander, the greatest captain and conqueror of antiquity. Themisto- 
 cles, Aristides and Alcibiades, the most eminent of Grecian statesmen, 
 were all cotemporaries and rivals. 
 
 If we examine Roman and English history, we shall find the coinciden- 
 ces of greatness at particular eras equally as remarkable. Cicero, the 
 greatest of Roman orators, was the cotemporary of Julius Csesar, the great- 
 est of Roman Generals. The Augustan age of Rome was distinguished 
 by a galaxy of great names — great in every thing but eloquence. The 
 capital and mistress of the world had then lost too much of the spirit of 
 liberty for eloquence to flourish within her walls. But she was great in 
 literature, science, refinement and civilization. Horace and Virgil at this 
 period lived, and wrote their immortal poems. Many others might be 
 mentioned. 
 
 In England, I have already referred to the age of Queen Elizabeth, 
 when Lord Bacon, Sir Edward Coke, the Cecils, Sir Walter Raleigh, Shaks- 
 peare, Ben Johnson, and others, almost equally illustrious, lived and flour- 
 ished. I have also spoken of another period of English history, which 
 produced the Earl of Chatham, Dr. Sam. Johnson, Edmund Burke and 
 Lord Holland. Charles James Fox, who has been called the Demosthenes 
 of England, and William Pitt, the great statesman, who became Prime 
 Minister of England at the age of twenty-four, were the sons of Lord 
 Holland and the Earl of Chatham, and may be referred to the same age. 
 Dr. Oliver Goldsmith was also their cotemporary, than whom the world has 
 produced few poets more beautiful, or prose writeis more elegantly simple 
 and natural. About the same era there lived Burns, the immortal plough- 
 
13 
 
 man of Ayrshire and poet of Scotland. The age of Queen Anne is an- 
 other period in English history, bright with a galaxy of illustrious names. 
 Addison, Pope, Swift and Steele were amongst those who adorned and ele- 
 vated the literature of England at that time. 
 
 If we were to examine the histories of France, Germany, Italy and 
 Spain, we should find coincidences equally as remarkable. The history 
 of America, too, would afford many instances. I will mention one. It is 
 near us. The District of Abbeville has produced four men, who are now 
 living, and any one of whom would be enough to have immortalized an age 
 or a nation. The proudest period of Roman greatness would have been 
 adorned by such a man as Langdon Cheves. For greatness of intellect, 
 profound wisdom, boldness, and purity of purpose, he has no superior. He 
 has discharged the duties of every station which he has filled, with an a- 
 bility which has never been surpassed. As a Judge, he was learned and 
 profound ; as a member of Congress, he displayed great wisdom, and an 
 industry and ability which have been seldom equalled ; as a financier, at 
 the head of the great Banking institution of the country, he evinced a bold- 
 ness, a sagacity and wisdom which have never been surpassed. The hon- 
 or of his birth is due to Abbeville District — the city of Charleston, howev- 
 er, claims the double honor of having distinguished, and been distinguished 
 by him. 
 
 John C. Calhoun, as every one knows, owes his birth to this District. — 
 Had he been born in England, instead of the United States, he would have 
 graced the brightest period of her history. As an orator and parliamenta- 
 ry debater, he would have ranked with her Foxes and Pitts. As a man of 
 genius and a brilliant statesman, he would not have been surpassed by the 
 proudest names of which England can boast. In private life, he has al- 
 ways sustained a character pure and spotless. His career in Congress was 
 a most brilliant one. He entered the House of Representatives a very 
 young man, immediately preceding the declaration of war, and his devo- 
 tion to business, united with his genius and ability, soon placed him at the 
 head of that body, filled, as it was, by the greatest men the country afforded. 
 
 General McDufFie, though not a native of Abbeville District, was educa- 
 ted and brought up in it, and now resides here, after having long repre- 
 sented the District in Congress, with distinguished honor to himself and 
 country. As an orator, his bold and fearless eloquence at the Bar, in the 
 Flouse of Representatives, and in the Senate of the United States, has plac- 
 ed him amongst the most distinguished speakers of this or any other age. 
 For many years he had no equal, no rival in the halls of Congress. He 
 stood, as it were, alone, the master spirit of that great assembly, towering 
 far above his compeers and associates. 
 
 James L. Petigru is a native of Abbeville District. He is known on- 
 ly as a Lawyer, and an upright, pure and noble-hearted man. Like Sir 
 Samuel Romily, he has devoted himself to his profession, and in learning 
 and ability he is surpassed by no one, either in the United States or Eng- 
 land. The resemblance between him and Romily is not altogether profes- 
 sional. There are many traits in their characters strikingly similar. They 
 were both of French descent, and rose from the humbler walks of life. — 
 There is a simplicity, a benevolence and a pureness in the character of 
 both, which we seldom meet with. They were both devoted to their pro- 
 fession, and cared not to mingle in public affairs. Like the great English 
 Lawyer, JVIr. Petigru is the admiration of his friends and associates. 
 
 'There are many others, natives of Abbeville District, who might be 
 named, filling high places in this and other States. When we see such a 
 
14 
 
 cluster of great men, all springing from one District, at one and the same 
 time, well may that District claim to be the Athens of South Carolina. — 
 Well may she, like the Roman matron, when asked for her jewels, point to 
 her sons. 
 
 But Abbeville has now given another claim to this distinction. She has 
 not only sent forth her sons, like the proud city of Greece, to (ill the high- 
 est offices within her own and the neighboring States and theConfedration, 
 and to receive the highest and noblest honors which their country can be- 
 stow, but she has now erected a College, where her sons, and the sons of 
 her neighboring Districts, and the adjoining States, may reap the advanta- 
 ges of a thorough and complete education. No higher evidence can be 
 given of the virtue, intelligence and intellectual attainments of any peo- 
 ple, than the establishment of schools and colleges. Nor can any strong- 
 er guarantee be offered that a people will remain wise and virtuous. 
 
 The founders and patrons of Erskine College will long receive the grati- 
 tude and thanks of the country. Their sagacity and wisdom were shown 
 in the location of this institution. It too frequently happens that where 
 schools and colleges are founded in towns and cities, the temptations to dis- 
 sipation and extravagance are so great that it may well be questioned, wheth- 
 er the Students derive more of benefit or injury from their collegiate course. 
 Here they are removed from all such temptations, and their only pride and 
 ambition must be to excel each other in their studies. The foppery and 
 frippery of dress cannot excite their jealousy or rivalry. 
 
 The Students of this institution will go hence, with their minds imbued 
 with the great principles of science and literature, virtue and religion. — 
 These are the foundations on which their future happiness, fame and pros- 
 perity must depend. From other similar institutions, surrounded with all 
 the fascinations of vice and extravagance, it too often happens that the 
 Student carries with him into the world, feelings, principles and habits, 
 there contracted, which prove his ruin and destruction. The fond parent, 
 Instead of being proud of him, for his virtues and attainments, will have to 
 repent in pain and sorrow, the disgrace and misery which their love and 
 kindness have brought upon one of their own offspring. 
 
 Gentlebien of the " Philomathean Society," I have the pleasure of dis- 
 tributing amongst you the honors which your talents, industry and good 
 behaviour have won for you. Here they are — take them, as the just re- 
 wards of your merit — but do not look upon them as filling the measure of 
 your fame and usefulness. Instead of having passed through the labors of 
 your life, you are now only on the verge of them. Your education, in- 
 stead of being finished, has only commenced. The foundation is laid, no- 
 thing more. You are to build, hereafter, the superstructure. If you have 
 been heretofore industrious, you must still be more so, as you advance in 
 life, and your cares and responsibilities increase. Do not flatter yourselves 
 with the belief that this life is one of ease and pleasure. We were placed 
 here by an ali-wise Being, for higher and nobler purposes than the mere 
 enjoyment of idle pleasures. 
 
 Let me entreat you, gentlemen, by all that can endear you to life, to 
 apply yourselves at once to your different professions and pursuits. Enter 
 on the study of them immediately, and steadily persevere in them, as long 
 as you live. Never permit yourselves to be disheartened, or to hesitate in 
 your onward course. Industry and prudence, honor and integrity, will 
 never fail to crown your exertions with success. 
 
 You were told by the learned, eloquent and pious Judge who addressed 
 you on your last anniversary, that the end and aim of all our exertions 
 

 15 
 
 was happiness. Let me tell you that idleness and happiness can never exist 
 together — I care not how much of wealth, luxury and splendor may sur- 
 round you, if you wish to be happy, you must not be idle. It was intend- 
 ed by the Creator of all things that we should all labor. By the sweat of 
 his brow man is to gain his livelihood. 
 
 If you select one of the learned professions for a pursuit in life, you 
 must not do so under the impression that it will not be necessary for you to- 
 labor. Your life, on the contrary, if you aspire to any of the honors and 
 distinctions of your profession, will be one of endless labor. And whilst 
 you are pursuing your studies or profession, let me beseech you to avoid all 
 temptations which may be thrown in your way. Avoid all bad company, 
 all evil or idle associates, as you would shun vice itself. You will very of- 
 ten meet with persons high in life, surrounded by wealth and fame, who* 
 are idle and vicious. Shun them and their society as you would a pesti- 
 lence. By your associates are you known, and every one of you must 
 rise or fall to the level of the company you keep. 
 
 The next danger I would caution you against, is that of giving way to 1 
 your passions of anger and resentment. Be slow unto wrath, is the com- 
 mand of our holy and blessed religion. Never cease to bear in mind that 
 it is more magnanimous to forgive than to resent an injury. True courage 
 is more often tested by the one than the other. A coward is very often 
 tempted to resent some insult or imaginary grievance, whilst a brave man 
 only, has courage to forgive or pass it by unnoticed. Be sure that you are 
 ./'always right, and no circumstance can then force you into any personal al- 
 tercation with your fellow man. 
 / The painful and agonizing event which has so recently cast a melan- 
 
 /choly gloom over the walls of this institution, and rilled your hearts with 
 the bitterest pangs of sorrow and mourning, should be an awful warning' 
 to you, through life, to restrain your feelings and govern your passions £ 
 In a moment of thoughtless excitement and passion, caused by some trivi- 
 al and unimportant consideration, a fellow-student, filled with high hopes 
 and expectations, has fallen by the hand of his College companion, who, 
 ■perhaps, had never entertained towards him any other than feelings of 
 ^kindness and love ! How forcibly does this sad and painful catastrophe il- 
 ' Hustrate to us the truth of the remark, that when passion rules, reason is 
 dethroned — we are no longer masters of ourselves. 
 f In conclusion, gentlemen, let me impress on you, as you are about to 
 jleave this institution, to carry with you, and treasure up, in perpetual re- 
 membrance, those great principles of virtue, morality and religion, which 
 have been taught you by your learned President and Professors. If you 
 are disposed to regard your happiness and prosperity in this life, and your 
 / future welfare in a world to come, these are the lessons to which your minds- 
 will most often revert, and which will be the last to depart from your mem- 
 V^ories. You have been long associated as companions and friends. Let 
 J0me assure you that early friendships, like early lessons of piety and relig- 
 ^j ion, are the most permanent. You are now going to separate, perhaps 
 forever. In all human probability, your destinies may be cast in different 
 j^md distant countries. You may never meet again in this world — bullet 
 * f this be your bond of union and sympathy : At night, when you have oCered 
 up your prayers to your God, and in the morning, when you have returned 
 vour thanks for your preservation during the past night, let your thoughts 
 revert to your Alma Mater, and her lessons of wisdom and religion, which 
 were taught you all in common. Go. prosper and be happy. My earnest 
 and fervent prayers go with you. 
 
4«2l° F EGRESS 
 
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