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THE' HIGHEST USE OF LEARNING: 
 
 AN 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 DELIVERED AT HIS 
 
 INAUGURATION TO THE PRESIDENCY 
 
 ^^ 
 
 AMHERST COLLEGE 
 
 BY REV. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, LL. D. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE TRUSTEES. 
 
 «^ AMHERST: 
 J. S. & C. ADAMS, PRINTERS, 
 
 1845. 
 
 -4-y^- 
 
. S 
 
 1 ii^ 
 
INAUGUEAL ADDRESS. 
 
 The cause of education, in this country at least, is almost 
 universally popular. Yet were we to pass around the inquiry 
 among the different classes of society, why they regard it so 
 important, we should probably receive very different answers. 
 One man, himself uneducated, places its chief value in the 
 means it affords of defence against the impositions of the de- 
 signing and unprincipled. Another values it chiefly because it 
 enables him to take advantage of the ignorance of the world in 
 promoting his schemes of self-aggrandizement. A third looks 
 upon the means which education affords for acquiring property, 
 as its highest use. A fourth regards the personal reputation, 
 respect, and influence, which learning bestows, as its chief ad- 
 vantage. A fifth thinks of it mainly as an instrument of ad- 
 vancing civilization, and multiplying the comforts and luxuries 
 of life. A sixth estimates most highly its influence in elevating 
 the lower classes of the community above the condition of mere 
 animals and drudges, and in making them understand that the 
 body is not the only part of man to be cared for. A seventh 
 places the highest use of learning in its power of disciplining 
 and liberalizing the mind, and delivering it from vulgar fears, 
 superstitions, and prejudices ; and in giving to men just views 
 of their rights, relations, and destinies. An eighth thinks most 
 of the boundless fields of enjoyment which knowledge opens to 
 the human mind, of a far more noble and refined kind than any 
 dependent upon animal nature. A ninth makes its most import- 
 ant use to consist in its bearings upon religion, both natural and 
 revealed. 
 
Now in my opinion, this ninth man has the right of the mat- 
 ter most decidedly ; and yet, I fear that his opinion is not the 
 most common, or the most popular. But to my conviction, the 
 religious applications of learning are by far its most important 
 use : and the occasion seems to be a fit one to defend and il- 
 lustrate this opinion. It needs, I believe, both defence and il- 
 lustration. For though the belief is general that religion may 
 derive some benefit from particular branches of learning, there is 
 still an impression lingering on many minds, that some sciences 
 are unfriendly in their bearings upon religion ; and that others 
 have no relations to religion. Much less is it generally believed 
 that the strongest reason why we should sustain common 
 schools, Academies, and Colleges, is, that we are thus promot- 
 ing the cause of true religion. But if this be indeed true, then, 
 when we give our property, our influence, or ourselves, to the 
 cause of learning, we shall do it with a heartier good will and a 
 more entire consecration ; and we shall the more cheerfully 
 bear up under the trials, fatigues, disappointments, and per- 
 plexities, that lie in our path. 
 
 I would not, indeed, undervalue the secular advantages of 
 learning. They are so obvious and so important, that I could 
 not do it if I would. Those whose experience reaches back 
 fifty, or forty, or even thirty years, have evidence in their own 
 consciousness of the economical value of learning, too strong to 
 be overcome by any speculative argument depreciating its impor- 
 tance. When we compare the present condition of the worId,and 
 our own condition, with what they were in our early days, — we 
 cannot but be deeply impressed with the rapid progress of socie- 
 ty, and the multiplication of secular advantages, and the means 
 of comfort and happiness, growing out of the advancement of 
 learning. Branches of science and literature, which, at the be- 
 ginning of this century, were tabooed to all who were not resi- 
 dents within the walls of Universities and Colleges, and even 
 some branches that scarcely had an existence then, are now the 
 theme of famihar conversation in the workshop, on the farm, 
 in the stage-coach, the rail car, the steamboat, and the pack- 
 et. And so simplified are the elementary principles of many 
 of these branches, as to be brought within the comprehension of 
 
the child at the primary school. Instead of the stinted sources 
 of information then possessed, in a few small newspapers and 
 periodicals in some of the larger cities, and a few republica- 
 tions of small European works, the country is now flooded with 
 newspapers of all sizes below one that will swallow up an octa- 
 vo, and with periodicals and books to suit all tastes, and all purs- 
 es, and all fancies, from the penny pamphlet up to the seven 
 hundred dollar volume of Audubon. 
 
 Still more striking has been the progress of the useful arts 
 from the application of scientific principles. In Great Britain, 
 at this moment, steam performs a work that would require the 
 unaided labor of more than four hundred millions of men ; and 
 a work as great probably in proportion to the population, in 
 our own country. Improvements in machinery and in chemical 
 processes have doubtless within this century made a still greater 
 deduction from the amount of labor necessary ; and these im- 
 provements reach every class of the community ; pointing out 
 to them an easier path to competence, and affording them lei- 
 sure to cultivate their intellectual and moral powers. Then too, 
 how striking the change in respect to intercommunication, both 
 on land and water. We now hardly give a serious parting to 
 our friend who starts upon a trip of only some five hundred or 
 a thousand miles, so soon shall we see him again. And even 
 when v/e have bid him adieu, as he starts on foreign travel, we 
 hardly begin to reckon his absence by months, certainly not as 
 formerly by years, ere he greets us again ; having made the 
 tour of Europe, or perhaps stood within the Holy City, or coast- 
 ed the shores of the Black Sea and the Caspian, or gone down 
 the Red Sea to India and the Celestial Empire, and returning 
 by the Isthmus of Panama, has completed the circuit of the 
 globe. And besides the problem has just been solved, of carry- 
 ing on a conversation and transacting business with our friend 
 when absent, even though hundreds, and it may be thousands 
 <of miles, intervene between us. 
 
 Now these are advantages derived from the progress of learn- 
 ing so obvious as to be known and read of all men ; and, there- 
 fore, we are apt to suppose them the chief advantages. Where- 
 as the applications of literary and scientific truths to religion 
 
lie more out of sight, and can be appreciated fully, only by 
 him, who is well acquainted both with learning and religion ; 
 and who looks at their relations with the eye of a philosopher. 
 We must dwell a little, therefore, upon these relations in order 
 to sustain the position that has been taken. 
 
 I need not argue before such an audience as this, the superi- 
 or importance of religious principles to all others. This will 
 be admitted ; for all other truths have reference to time, these 
 to eternity : all others regard man's mortal, these his immortal 
 interests : all others are limited by created natures ; these centre 
 in the uncreated God. Religious principles, therefore, are in 
 their very nature of infinite moment. Other truths have grada- 
 tions of value : but these are invaluble, because necessarily im- 
 mortal and infinite. Every thing, therefore, in literature or sci- 
 ence, that discovers, illustrates, or confirms, the eternal principles 
 of religion, swells into an importance proportionably great. It 
 remains, then, only to show that the wide fields of learning af- 
 ford us such illustrations over their entire surface, and the posi- 
 tion will be made out, that the religious applications of literature 
 and science, are the most important of all their relations ; and 
 that consequently, when we consecrate our property, our influ- 
 ence, or our lives, to the cause of education, we consecrate them 
 to one of the noblest of all human enterprises. 
 
 Accompany me now, my friends, as we rapidly pass around 
 the circle of literature and science, in order that we may see 
 what are the relations between religion and the different branch- 
 es of human learning. 
 
 We meet, first, with the ancient classics, whose study forms 
 so important a part of a liberal education in modern times. The 
 religious principles which they contain, are, indeed, fatally 
 false ; and not much more consonant with modern views, is their 
 philosophy. Nevertheless, they afford most important aid in 
 elucidating revelation. The very absurdity of the mythology 
 and philosophy of the classics, brings out by contrast, in bolder 
 relief the beauties and glories of Christian doctrines and Christ- 
 ian philosophy ; and instead of leading the student to embrace 
 polytheism, they prepare his mind for the reception of the Gos- 
 pel. Besides, many passages of Scripture would be unintelligi- 
 
ble, and others unimpressive, without that knowledge of ancient 
 opinions and manners which the classics disclose. And then 
 too, how unfit to give a correct interpretation of Scripture is he, 
 who is unacquainted with the languages in which it was original- 
 ly written. It does not prove this position false, to state, what 
 is certainly true, that many men have faithfully preached th# 
 Gospel and been instrumental of the conversion of great num- 
 bers, who were ignorant of classical literature. So there have 
 been surgeons and physicians, unacquainted with anatomy, phy- 
 siology, and chemistry ; and they may have performed many 
 skillful operations and effected many cures, and thus done much 
 good. But other things being equal, no one would feel as safe 
 in the hands of such practitioners as in those familiar with the 
 structure of the human system, and with the laws that govern it, 
 and with the chemical nature and action of medicines. In dif- 
 ficult cases such practitioners would shrink from prescriptions 
 and operations ; or if they rashly attempted them, would be 
 very likely to tie the omo-hyoid muscle instead of the carotid 
 artery ; or to administer nitric acid in connection with mercury ; 
 or by some analogous blunder,to put the patient's life in jeopardy. 
 And mistakes alike dangerous, sometimes infinitely more so, 
 because they involve the loss of the soul, must he be liable to 
 make, who engages in the ministerial office, ignorant of the ori- 
 ginal languages in which the scriptures were written. And if, 
 one such fatal mistake should result from his ignorance, what a 
 terrible drawback would it be upon a whole life of devoted use- 
 fulness. 
 
 In modern times human learning has become so prodigously 
 expanded, and so many new branches have been established, 
 that it is difficult to discourse intelligibly concerning it with- 
 out defining the terms which we employ. In France and 
 Germany, the word Literature, embraces the whole circle of 
 written knowledge ; and with many English writers it has the 
 same wide signification. But often the meaning is restricted to 
 those branches which treat of the social, moral, and intellectual 
 relations of man. Pohte Literature, or Belles Lettres, is still 
 more limited in its meaning ; embracing poetry, oratory, and 
 perhaps history, biography, and some other miscellaneous sub- 
 
s 
 
 jects. The term science is applied to those branches whose 
 principles are considered as well settled ; and with the excep- 
 tion of some parts of mathematics, the term is chiefly confined 
 to the material world ; although moral science, and intellectual 
 science, are pharses frequently used. 
 
 Adopting these definitions, we might arrange all human 
 knowledge under the three heads of Literature, Science and Art. 
 Let us first inquire into the influence of modern literature upon 
 religion. 
 
 And here it must be acknowledged in the outset, that not a 
 little of the influence of modern polite literature has been very 
 disastrous to religion. For much of it has been prepared by 
 men who were intemperate, or licentious, and secretly or openly 
 hostile to Christianity ; at least to its peculiar doctrines. And 
 their writings have been deeply imbued with immorality, or in- 
 fidelity, or atheism. Yet the poison has been often so inter- 
 woven with those fascinations of style, or thought, characteristic 
 of genius, as to be unnoticed by the youthful mind, delighted 
 with smartness and brilliancy. And even when the plague 
 spots have been pointed out, it has tended, like the prohibition 
 of the fruit of the tree of knowledge in Eden, to excite an irre- 
 sistible desire to open the proscribed volumes, even though they 
 should prove a second box of Pandora. 
 
 Perhaps no branch of literature has been oftener and more 
 successfully employed as a vehicle for the propagation of infidel 
 opinions, than history. Rightly understood, and faithfully in- 
 terpreted, it gives strong light and confirmation to revelation 
 and to morality. But sceptical ingenuity has often been able 
 to make its voice as ambiguous as a Delphic Oracle, and as falla- 
 cious as ventriloquism. In Pagan Greece and Rome, their his- 
 torians, except perhaps Tacitus, were even over credulous on 
 the subject of polytheistic religion. And so in modern times, 
 previous to the last century, the historian was usually the sup- 
 porter of revealed truth. But the talented yet anomalous Bayle, 
 in that manual of irreligion, his Critical Dictionary, led the way 
 in converting facts into an engine against Christianity. Voltaire 
 and others learnt the lesson, which was perfected by Gibbon 
 and Hume. So often however have their sophistries and cavils 
 been exposed that it is only the unwary who are now entrapped. 
 The great mass of Historical literature also, your Rollin and 
 
Ramsay, Muller. Schlegel, Heeren, Goldsmith, Smollet, Russell, 
 Turner, Robertson, and a multitude of others, are favorable to 
 religion ; although a Von Rotteck, in the costume of a baptized 
 infidel, rejects biblical history as fabulous. Religion, therefore, 
 need have no fears from her alliance with history : and, indeed, 
 she may hope for many a rich harvest of illustration and confir- 
 mation from future researches : for there are other papyri to be 
 unrolled, other hieroglyphics to be decyphered, and other Sir 
 William Joneses and Champollions to be raised up. 
 
 Another most sacrilegious perversion of polite literature con- 
 sists in clothing immorality and irreligion in the vestal robe of 
 poetry. I say sacrilegious ; for poetry is the natural handmaid of 
 pure religion. Hence it was chosen by the Holy Ghost as the 
 appropriate language of prophets and other inspired men. But 
 it is the appropriate language of all strong emotions ; and may, 
 therefore, be employed for giving an attractive dress to immoral 
 and irreligious sentiments, as well as to those which are virtuous 
 and holy. Accordingly, so wide has been this misapplication 
 of the poetic talent, that in almost every age, its highest efforts 
 have been consecrated to polytheism, or war, or amorous in- 
 trigues, or intemperance, or to secure favor from the great, by 
 flattering their vanity. Indeed, though the Old Testament is 
 full of poetry, and though it has ever been employed in the re- 
 ligious worship of Jews and Christians, yet it seems not to have 
 been imagined till lately, that this delightful art had been per- 
 verted and degraded by being employed to sustain heathenism, 
 and to pander to intemperance, licentiousness, and war ; nor that 
 it could ever be made thoroughly Christian, and thus exalted in 
 character and effect. The great poets of antiquity were so fully 
 heathen, and some of them, as Anacreon and Horace, had woven 
 so many garlands for the intoxicating cup, that it seems to have 
 been taken for granted that the muse could never be made to 
 pour forth numbers as sweet and enticing on loftier and purer 
 themes. Even the splendid efforts of Milton and Dante, did 
 not open the eyes of Christians to the true use of poetry. In- 
 deed, the polytheistic and warlike numbers of Horner and Vir- 
 gil, and the Bacchanalian songs of the ancient lesser poets were 
 piety and purity, compared to the philosophic blasphemy of 
 2 
 
10 
 
 Shelley, the atheism and profligacy of Byron and Moore, and, 
 must I add, the Bacchanalian songs of Robert Burns. Further- 
 more, if it be true, as Milton affirmed, that a poet's life is itself a 
 true poem, we shall be obliged sadly to swell the list of modern 
 poems devoted to vice and irreligion. For when biography in- 
 forms us that Addison, Prior, and Steele, were intemperate, that 
 Thompson was a voluptuary. Goldsmith dissipated, Sterne a 
 decided sensualist, and that even Johnson could practice absti- 
 nence but not temperance, and when we know, that though 
 Pope's constitution was too delicate to allow him to indulge in 
 luxurious excesses, yet his writings show a bad pre-eminence 
 of wantonness and indecency, we are led to exclaim with Mil- 
 ton, 
 
 "God of our fathers, what is man ! 
 Nor do I name of men the common route. 
 That wandering loose abroad, 
 Grow up and perish as the summer fly ; 
 Heads without name, no more remember'd ; 
 But such as thou hast solemnly elected, 
 With gifts and graces eminently adorned. 
 For some great work, thy glory." 
 
 And then too, consider the moral character of modern dra- 
 matic poetry, so decidedly worse than the noble tragic poetry 
 of antiquity. From the days of Dryden to the present, (for 
 even Shakspeare with all his splendid moral sentiments was 
 undoubtedly a libertine in principle and practice,) scarcely a 
 dramatic poet has appeared whose "entire unweeded volumes," 
 as Hannah INIorc calls them, can be conscientiously recommend- 
 ed, save the Comus and Samson Agonistes of Milton, and a 
 few other plays of kindred character. We have seen too, that 
 Lyric poetry, — more influential than any other upon public 
 morals, — has been prostituted to the cause of intemperance and 
 revelry, from the time when Anacreon indited his '^j"; ."tAaim 
 nivtt, and Horace his Nu7ic est bibendum, down to the period 
 when Burns exclaimed, 
 
 •'We'll take a cup of kindness yet 
 For auld lang syne ;" 
 
 or still later, when the echo came from Moore ; 
 
11 
 
 "Friend of my life, this wine cup sip." 
 
 But thanks be to God, that in these latter days he has crea- 
 ted some greater and some lesser Christian lights, and placed 
 them in the poetic firmament ; where they already begin to rule 
 the day and the night. First came Milton : a permanent sun ; 
 not immaculate indeed, but full of glory, and destined for a long 
 time to rule the day. Then appeared a milder luminary ; fore- 
 most in the train of evening, and delightful to look upon, as 
 reflected from the volumes of Cowper. And a noble train of 
 kindred lights, most of them, indeed, lesser stars, have since shone 
 in the literary heavens, bearing the names of Watts, Heber, 
 Montgomery, Young, and others ; to which I might add several 
 lights that have dotted flie darkness of our western hemisphere. 
 We were also startled, not long since, by the flash of a meteor, 
 shooting athwart the eastern heavens, and having marked out 
 the Course of Time, vanishing from sight, 
 
 " As sets the nsoming star, which goes not down 
 Behind the darkened west, nor hides obscur'd 
 Among the tempest of the sky, but melts away 
 Into the light of beaven." 
 
 Nor ought I to omit to point to that noble luminary, which, for so 
 long a period, has been burning with a mild and steady light above 
 the lakes and mountains of northern England; and which gives us 
 some foretaste of what the literary hemisphere will be, when po- 
 etic inspiration shall consent to receive a higher inspiration from 
 the fountain of Scripture ; far purer than Castalia. To bring about 
 that golden age of poetry, should be the grand object of its culti- 
 vators ; especially of those who can claim the nasc?>«r,non^^ 
 Then and not till then, will it be seen how noble an auxiliary to 
 virtue and religion is the poetic element in man. 
 
 There is another department of polite literature that has been, 
 still more than poetry, monopolized by vice and irreligion ; and 
 which, I fear, will be still harder to reclaim. To minds averse 
 to close thinking ; to those whose tastes and habits are all artifi- 
 cial, and who have never acquired a relish for the beauties and 
 wonders of nature ; as well as to those who are the slaves of ap- 
 petite and passion ; the novel and the romance have ever pos- 
 sessed irresistible attractions. And since, these three classes 
 
12 
 
 form, to a greater or less extent, the principal part of society, 
 this is the literature that is most widely and abundantly diffused. 
 And while the demand has created a supply, so, according to 
 a principle of political economy, a surplus supply has increased 
 the demand. The pen and the press have been prolific beyond 
 all precedent ; and the quality, of the article has varied according 
 to the demands of fashion. At one time the gross and disgust- 
 ing descriptions of Fielding and Smollett met the popular taste. 
 Anon, what Hannah More calls the "non-morality" of the Great 
 Unknown, was in excellent ^om/. And since that prolific fountain 
 has been dried up, others, who, alas for the cause of virtue and 
 religion, are too well known, have not failed to disgorge tales of 
 all sorts, suited to every variety of appetite, from the most deli- 
 cate and refined to the most gross and grovelling. For like the 
 frogs of Egypt, these productions have not been confined to the 
 loudoirs of the literati, nor to the centre tables and withdrawing 
 rooms of wealth and fashion : but have found their way to the 
 kneeding troughs of the kitchen ; coming there, it may be, in one 
 of those enormous products of the modern press, that might be 
 mistaken for a winding sheet ; and which I fear has proved the 
 winding sheet of many a noble intellect. 
 
 I am aware that not a few authors, disgusted with these per- 
 versions of ficticious literature, have made many praise-worthy 
 efforts lo turn its current into the channels of virtue and relig- 
 ion. Nor have they failed to obtain many interested readers. 
 But I fear that in most cases it is the well arranged story, and 
 not its moral, which has awakened interest : 
 
 " First raising a combustion of desire, 
 With some cold moral they would queach the fire." 
 
 But Leviathan is not so tamed. Yet the fact that the love 
 of novelty is so strong naturally in the heart, shows us, that in 
 some way or other, it was meant to be gratified. And when we 
 learn that the wonders of nature far transcend the wonders of 
 romance, is it not evident, that if men can be brought to love 
 nature, and those branches of knowledge which unlock her 
 Elysian fields, this desire can be fully satisfied with reaUties, 
 without the aid of fiction. I have Uttle hope that any success- 
 
13 
 
 ful headway can be made against that morbid love of fiction, 
 which has become the almost universal passion, until you can 
 implant in man's heart a love of unsophisticated nature. This 
 once done, and the fascinations of romance would become pow- 
 erless under the overmastering influence of the new affection. 
 To restore nature, therefore, to the throne of the heart, and ex- 
 pel the meretricious usurper, is the noble work that lies be- 
 fore the scholar of the nineteenth century. And when it shall 
 be accomplished, as I doubt not it will be, and the deluge of fic- 
 titious literature, that now almost buries the civilized world, shall 
 have passed into the limbo of forgetful ness, it will be found that 
 a mighty barrier to the progress of true knowledge and true 
 religion has been taken out of the way, and that the heart which 
 is alive to natures beauties, is vvell prepared to love the God of 
 nature, as well as the God of revelation. 
 
 It is not necessary to spend time in showing that rhetoric and 
 oratory, two other important branches of polite literature, are 
 capable of the same perversion to unworthy purposes, as the 
 subjects already noticed. In every human heart there are chords, 
 which, when struck by the silver bow of the rhetorician, or the 
 magic wand of the orator, cannot but vibrate and give back a 
 response. But when stormy passion, or reckless irreligion, 
 sweeps over those chords, they return only discordant sounds, 
 that grate harshly upon the ear of virtue and piety. But when 
 they are touched by the delicate and skillful hands of true be- 
 nevolence, the tones which they return, resemble the music of 
 heaven ; and they excite the spirit of heaven all around. To 
 promote that spirit is doubtless the grand object to which the 
 Creator intended the flowers of rhetoric and the strains of elo- 
 quence should be devoted. How immensely important, then, 
 that Christian scholars should rescue these branches from the 
 hands of the unprincipled and the wicked, and convert them to 
 their legitimate use, as auxiliaries of virtue and religion ! 
 
 Some worthy men, I know, look with a jealous eye upon the 
 use of rhetorical and oratorical skill in aid of religion. Thev 
 feel as if no attempt should be made to set off" and recommend 
 the naked truth. But as remarked by Dr. Campbell, how much 
 better for the minister of the Gospel to write so as to make tho 
 
14 
 
 critic turn Christian, than to write so as to make the Christian 
 turn critic ! How much deeper the effect, for example, upon 
 every mind, could the advocate of religion in his descriptions, 
 follow the rule so beautifully illustrated by Pope : 
 
 " True ease in writing eomes from art, not chance; 
 As those move easiest who have learnt to dance. 
 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence; 
 The sound must seem an echo to the sense. 
 Soft is the strain when Zephj-r gently Mows, 
 And the smooth stream in smootlier numbers flows ; 
 But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. 
 The hoarse rouyh verse should like the torrent roar. 
 When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
 The line too labors and the words move slow. 
 Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain. 
 Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main." 
 
 What student has not felt the thrilling influence of the 
 no).v(p}.oia^oio 6ixXaaar,g of Homcr ? Or Still morc to my purpose, 
 how striking the contrast between the opening of the gates of 
 Heaven and of Hell, as described by Milton : 
 
 " Heaven opened wide her ever during gates, 
 
 On golden hinges turning: 
 
 The infernal gates 
 Wide open flew, on iron hinges turning. 
 Grating harsh thunder." 
 
 Now it is not in human nature to avoid receiving a powerful 
 impression from such a skillful choice and collocation of words : 
 and why should not religion avail itself of this means of giving 
 truth a keener edge ? It may, indeed, be carried to excess ; as 
 Dante seems to have done in his descriptions of the physical tor- 
 ments of perdition : but Milton, while he has given an awful 
 distinctness and force to those same torments, has not exagge- 
 rated them : and why may not religion use this power, as any 
 other proper means, to impress Divine truth ? In this respect, 
 thus far, the children of this world have been wiser than the 
 children of light. 
 
 In passing from literature to science, on the great circle of 
 human knowledge, we meet with intellectual and moral philoso- 
 phy. But so obvious is the connection between the latter and 
 the principles of religion, that we need not delay upon its eluci- 
 dation. For every theory of morals, that is not radically defec- 
 
15 
 
 tive, makes the origin of moral obligation identical with that of 
 religious obligation. So that in fact, moral philosophy is only one 
 branch of natural theology. I regard politics, also, or the prin- 
 ciples by which nations should be governed and regulated, as 
 only a branch of ethics ; or, rather as a special application of 
 the principles of morality and religion : though I greatly fear, 
 that expediency and self interest have thus far been the basis of 
 political action more frequently than moral or religious princi- 
 ple. By some writers, intellectual philosophy, or psychology, or 
 metaphysics, as they would rather choose to denominate the 
 science, has been supposed, upon the whole, quite disastrous to 
 religion. For when they consult ecclesiastical history, they find 
 that the most fatal errors in religion have usually been based 
 upon some false system of metaphysics ; and that behind its hy- 
 pothetical and unintelligible dogmas, the ablest sceptics have en- 
 trenched themselves. They regard " the modern philosophy of 
 the human mind, for the most part, as a mere system of abstrac- 
 tions," "having almost nothing to offer of practical instruction ;" 
 and although " the philosophy of the agency of sentient and 
 voluntary beings is a matter of rational curiosity, — it is nothing 
 more." 
 
 I quote here, for the most part, the language of an able recent 
 author. But admitting the truth of these statements, they show 
 one thing at least ; that unless theologians are familiar with the 
 systems of mental philosophy, so ably defended by eminent 
 men, how can they hope to expose and refute such men when 
 they employ metaphysical subtleties to pervert religious truth ? 
 If the theologist does not display equal acuteness with the 
 ontologist, the latter will triumph in his assaults upon religion. 
 And if it be a false metaphysical philosophy, that has led a man 
 to adopt a false religious creed, how important that the advocate 
 of religion should be able to meet the errorist on his own ground, 
 and not only to show him that he started wrong, but to put him 
 upon the right track. " If it be a murky or misty region," says 
 a late writer, " carry the blazing torch of demonstrated truth in- 
 to every cloudy cave and den, encompass every fastness where 
 error lurks, and pour in the fire of a burning logic. The surest 
 way to get protection from the open, and especially the secret 
 
16 
 
 ravages of a mischievous beast, is to hunt him down in his own 
 lair."* 
 
 But it is said, that all experience shows that there is no safety 
 save in keeping religion entirely aloof from metaphysics. What 
 centuries of disaster followed the attempt of the ancient fathers 
 to incorporate the metaphysics of Platonism with Christianity ? 
 And how much longer in the dark ages, did the pall of igno- 
 rance and a perverted Christianity rest upon the world, because 
 it was held down by the Peripatetic Philosophy, resting on it 
 like an incubus ! In our own day, too, we have seen a glacial 
 period commence, in a portion of the Church, from the freezing 
 influence of German metaphysics ; which threatens to be as 
 long and as rigid as the analogous geological period. 
 
 Now were the question, whether it were better for men to re- 
 ceive with child-like confidence the declarations of the Bible, 
 without reference to ontological systems, all probably would re- 
 ply in the affimative. But the difficulty is, that ingenious and 
 speculative men will construct their philosophical strait jackets, 
 into which they will force the doctrines of revelation. And 
 when the friends of piety see that religion is panting and almost 
 strangled by this cramping Procrustean process, how shall they 
 liberate her ? They must have help to do it ; and denunciation 
 and mere zeal will not bring help. They must show by a care- 
 ful examination and measurement of the entire warp, and woof, 
 and cut, of this philosophical dress, that however agreeable it 
 may be to the latest fashion, it cramps the heart and the vitals, 
 stops the circulation of the blood, and is shrivelling up the ex- 
 tremities ; and then will all the friends of religion join in strip- 
 ping ofT the murderous vestment. Do you suppose that the errors 
 of Platonism, and the peripatetic philosophy would ever have 
 been weeded out from Christian doctrines, except by men who 
 had so thoroughly examined them as to be in no danger of pluck- 
 ing up the truth also ? Who but metaphysicians could have ex- 
 orcised that famous Plastic Nature, conjured from the " vasty 
 deep," by so powerful a necromancer as Cudworth ? Who but 
 men versed in the subtleties of dreamy abstractions, could have 
 coped successfully with the Scottish prince of sceptics, when he 
 had gathered a dense fog around him, and under cover of it had 
 
 • Prof. Fiakfl'» Address at East Windsor, p. 8. 
 
17 
 
 assailed the first principles of all religion ? Had Kant been un- 
 skilled in the abtruse speculations of mental philosophy, he 
 could not so effectually have demolished the pantheism of Spi- 
 noza ; and still more essential is such knowledge to show the 
 fallacy of those more recent forms of the same doctrine, the 
 natural pantheism of Schelling, and the idealism of Fichte. 
 
 Another effort of the German mind is to show that the argu- 
 ment from design, to prove the Divine Existence, as advanced 
 by Derham, Ray, Paley, and the Bridgewater Treatises, is false ; 
 and that the idea of God is derived from a sort of intuition of 
 the pure reason ; nor could the external world possibly excite 
 the idea of God. These opinions have gained not a little cre- 
 dence in this country ; falling in, as they do, with what is called 
 a spiritual philosophy, or transcendentalism. Now that there 
 is a moral order in the world, and in the mind itself, and that the 
 understanding, perceiving this, naturally infers that a Being of 
 Infinite Moral Perfections must be the author of both, — because 
 we instinctively refer every effect to a cause, — cannot be doubt- 
 ed. But on this view, this moral argument, as it is called, be- 
 comes only a single example of the argument from design ; and 
 by no means invalidates or supersedes other forms of the argu- 
 ment derived from the external world. Dr. Paley's argument 
 was, indeed, defective ; because he did not refer to mental 
 philosophy to prove the spirituality of the Deity : But that de- 
 fect is abundantly supplied by Chalmers, Crombie, and Brough- 
 am : so that now, the argument which Paley labored to estab- 
 lish, is impregnable ; But it will require the vigorous efforts of 
 men versed in abtruse metaphysics, to bring it out of the fog 
 and dust with which it has been enveloped. 
 
 I have alluded to transcendentalism, dignified as it has been 
 by the name of " spiritual philosophy," in distinction from the 
 Baconian of inductive, which is called '•' sensuous." This is, 
 also, a product of German metaphysics ; and when one sees 
 what an absolutely unintelligible jargon is used in its enuncia- 
 tion, by its ablest originators, such as Fitchte, Schelling, and 
 Hegel, he finds it difficult to conceive how it has exerted such 
 an influence upon religion. But the fact is, there is always to 
 some minds, especially in youth, a wonderful charm in a philoso- 
 
IS 
 
 phy that is esoteric. They love to behave themselves capable 
 of discovering a hidden meaning in facts and principles, which 
 the uninitiated cannot discover. Hence, let some man of real 
 talents and learning, as Swedenborg for instance, solemnly and 
 pertinaciously declare that he does "see what is not to be seen," 
 and he will not want followers, who soon come to have a clear 
 vision for double senses and spiritual meanings. Indeed, a 
 man of talents has only to be obscure in his style an(f meaning, 
 in order to be regarded by a large proportion of the world, and 
 among them not a few recently fledged literati, as very profound. 
 On the contrary, that beautiful simplicity and clearness of style 
 and thought, which are the result of long and patient thoug'ht, and 
 which characterize the highest order of talent, are regarded by 
 the same class as evidence of a superficial mind and destitution 
 of genius. Accordingly, the temptation is very strong with writ- 
 ers and public speakers, who vi'ould be popular, to wrap them- 
 selves in the mantle of mystery and obscurity ; so that the re- 
 mark of Dr. Griffin is too true, that the last attainment of the 
 orator is simplicity : and we may say the same, also, in respect 
 to the philosopher. But if men of talents will mount in the 
 air balloon of metaphysical speculation, into transcendental re- 
 gions of clouds and nebulae, and through their speaking trumpets 
 announce the discovery of new worlds, unknown to the Bible or 
 to science ; Christian men must ascend after them, in a sim- 
 ilar vehicle, bearing with them the torch of truth, to ascertain 
 whether a fog bank has not been mistaken for a planet. 
 
 I have thus far spoken of the value of mental science as a 
 necessary means of detecting religious errors, originating in the 
 same science. But it has also many direct and important bear- 
 ings upon religious truth. But did the time permit me to point 
 them out, it would be little more than a repetition of what has 
 been recently said better and more fully than I can do, by one 
 of my colleagues.* I pass, therefore, to another important sign 
 in the great zodiac of human knowledge. On that circle math- 
 ematics follows naturally after metaphysics, because it furnishes 
 us with the noblest examples of abstract truth in the universe. 
 
 But I fancy that I hear one and another whispering, " what 
 possible connection can there be between mathematics and re- 
 
 * Prof. Fiske's Address at East Windsor. 
 
19 
 
 llgion ?" The pure abstractions of this science do not, indeed, 
 lead the mind directly to a Deity ; since they may be conceived 
 to be necessary and eternal truths. Tliey are not the result of 
 an induction from facts, but of a comparison of ideas. And it 
 is the facts of the -natural world that most strikingly discover to 
 us the wonders of adaptation and design, and lead the mind ir- 
 resistibly to infer a Supreme Being. But what is the basis 
 on which most of this adaptation and design rest ? Chiefly, I 
 answer, the laws of mathematics. Look up to the heavens, 
 and you will find those laws controlling all the movements of 
 suns and planets with infallible precision. Every movement on 
 earth, also, which is either mechanical or chemical, is equally de- 
 pendent upon mathematical laws. Vital operations, too, so far 
 as they result from chemical and mechanical forces, must be 
 referred to the same principles. I do not assert that life and 
 intellect are governed by mathematical laws : but their opera- 
 tions have all the precision of mathematics ; and I doubt ^ not 
 could be predicted by angelic minds, certainly by the Deity, 
 with as much certainty as the astronomer foretells an eclipse, or 
 transit : and really I do not see but the same principles would 
 guide the calculation in the one case as in the other. In short, 
 so entirely dependent are the movements of the universe upon 
 mathematical laws, that to alter or annul these laws, would be 
 to restore the reign of chaos and old night. Let but a single 
 axiom or corollary of mathematics be changed, and I doubt 
 not that wild disorder and ruin would soon take the place of 
 the adaptation and beautiful design that now meet us at every 
 step. Mathematics then forms the very framework of nature's 
 harmonies, and is essential to the argument for a God. Instead 
 •of having no connection with religion, it lies at the foundation 
 of all theism. 
 
 It seems to me, also, that mathematics aids us in the concep- 
 tion of some religious truths, difficult from their nature to be 
 conceived of by finite minds. All the attributes of the Deity, 
 being infinite, are of this description. But the contemplation 
 of an endless series in mathematics, gives us the nearest approach 
 to an idea of the infinite, which we can attain. Follow the se- 
 ries, indeed, as far as our powers will carry us, and we are still 
 
20 
 
 no nearer the end than when we started. But we have got 
 hold of the thread, that would conduct us, if our Daedalian 
 wings did not fail us, across that interminable abyss which sepa- 
 rates the finite from the infinite ; and when we transfer our 
 mathematical conceptions to the Deity, we can hardly fail to 
 meditate upon his glories with deeper amazement. 
 
 To many minds all explanations of the biblical doctrine of 
 the Trinity, appear so absurd and contradictory as not to ad- 
 mit of belief. Let, it however, be stated to such a man, for the 
 first time, that two lines may approach each other forever with- 
 out meeting, and it will appear to him as absurd as the doc- 
 trine of the Trinity. But after you have demonstrated to him 
 the properties of the hyperbola and its asymptote, the apparent 
 absurdity vanishes. And so after the theologian has stated, 
 that by Divine Unity he means only a numerical unity, — in 
 other words, that there is but one Supreme Being, and that the 
 Three Persons of the Godhead are one in this sense, and three 
 only in those respects not inconsistent with this unity, every 
 philosophical mind, whether it admit or not that the Scriptures 
 teach the doctrine of the Trinity, must see that there is no ab- 
 surdity or contradiction in this view of it. Hence it may hap- 
 pen, and indeed it has happened, that the solution of a man's 
 difficulties on this subject may originate in a proposition of Conic 
 Sections. 
 
 Other peculiar truths of revelation receive striking support 
 from the application of mathematical principles. Among these 
 is the doctrine of special or miraculous Providence. Professor 
 Babbage, in that singular yet ingenious work, called the Ninth 
 Bridgwater Treatise, has shown mathematically, that mira- 
 cles may have formed a part of the original and foreordained 
 plan of the universe, and that their occurrence may be as really 
 the result of natural laws as ordinary events, a doctrine, which, 
 indeed, had been previously advanced by Butler. And in this 
 way is the famous objection of David Hume to miracles proved 
 by mathematics to be groundless. 
 
 Other religious applications of mathematics might be pointed 
 out. But we must hasten forward to that wide space on the 
 circle of human knowledge, occupied by the inductive sciences. 
 
21 
 
 These comprehend, in fact, all those branches that relate to the 
 material universe, and when we have glanced at them, we shall 
 have completed the circuit of literature and science. 
 
 And here at the outset, we remark, that from these sciences 
 have been gathered that great mass of facts which constitute 
 the essence of Natural Theology, by such men as Newintyt, 
 Ray, Derham, Wollaston, Paley, Brown, and the authors of the 
 Bridgewater Treatises. The a 'posteriori argument for the 
 Divine existence rests upon them ; and, indeed, almost all the 
 truths pertaining to the character of the Deity and his govern- 
 ment that nature discloses. They are arguments which all men 
 can readily understand and appreciate : for although a few 
 metaphysical minds have endeavored to throw doubt over the 
 vahdity of the argument from design, as I have already stated ; 
 yet this is in fact the only evidence that does interest and satis- 
 fy the great mass of men. When they see such wonderful ef- 
 fects as physical science discloses, they are led irresistibly, by a 
 universal law of the human mind, to refer them to some ade- 
 quate cause ; and no cause can be adequate, save an Infinite 
 Deity. Natural Theology has selected only the most striking 
 of these effects. But in truth every fact of inductive science 
 furnishes an argument for theism. So that to a man in a mor- 
 ally healthy state, every scientific truth becomes a religious 
 truth, and nature is converted into one great temple, where 
 sacred fire is always burning upon the altars, where hovers the 
 glorious Shekinah, and where, from a full orchestra, the an- 
 tiiem of praise is ever ascending. 
 
 In accordance with this view, we find that the most gifted 
 minds, and indeed a large majority of all minds, that have de- 
 voted themselves to inductive science, have been the friends of 
 religion. And here we reckon the princes of the intellectual 
 world, such as Newton, Kepler, Galileo, Pascal, Boyle, Coper- 
 nicus, Linnaeus, Black, Boerhaave and Dalton : and among the 
 living, such men as Herschel, Brewster, Whewell, Sedgwick, 
 Owen, and a multitude of others. The very same argumenta- 
 tion that leads such original discoverers to derive the principles 
 of science from facts in nature, carries them irresistibly back- 
 ward to a First Cause : and, indeed, the inductive principle, as 
 
22 
 
 developed by Bacon, forms the true basis on wliich to build the 
 whole fabric of natural religion ; and he who fully admits the 
 truth of natural religion, is in a state of preparation for receiv- 
 ing revealed truth, to supply its deficiences. So that upon the 
 whole, the inductive sciences are of all others most favorable to 
 religion, and the most intimately connected with it. 
 
 I shall doubtless be met here by the objection, that not a few 
 distinguished men, found in the ranks of inductive science, 
 have been thorough sceptics. And here the names of some of 
 the most able mathematicians of modern times, such as La 
 Place, and D'Alembert, will be adduced. We shall be referred to 
 the Nebular Hypothesis of the former, and to the Encyclopedia 
 of the latter; both of them intended to lay the axe at the root of 
 all rehgion, and to cover nature with the pall of atheism. But 
 such anomalies as these are explicable in consistency with the 
 general position that inductive science is eminently favorable to 
 religion. For in the first place, these men were atheists in spite 
 of science, rather than through its influence. The spirit of the 
 limes, and of the country in which they lived, was dissolute 
 and atheistic ; and the moral feelings of D'Alembert at least, 
 were so corrupt that nothing but atheism could keep conscience 
 quiet. In the second place, they were distinguished in abstruse 
 mathematics, rather than iii inductive science : and it cannot be 
 denied, that when men devote themselves almost exclusively to 
 abstractions of this nature, they are apt to look with suspicion up- 
 on the less certain, but far higher and more important evidence of 
 moral reasoning : or rather, they attempt to apply the subtleties 
 of the higher mathematics to religion, and of course fail of ar- 
 riving at correct results : because the subjects are totally diverse, 
 and must be understood by entirely different modes of analsyis. 
 Bonaparte, who was quick to discover character, made La Place 
 one of his ministers : but soon saw that he did not discharge 
 his duties with much ability; because as the emperor said, " he 
 sought subtleties in every subject, and carried into his official 
 employments the spirit of the method of infinitely small quanti- 
 ties," employed by mathematicians. But the grand difficulty 
 with such men is, that by confining their attention so exclusively 
 to one department of knowledge, and to the cultivation of one 
 
23 
 
 set of faculties, by a well known law of physiology they dwarf 
 all the other powers, and really become less capable of judging 
 of other subjects than ordinary men, who cultivate all their fac- 
 ulties in due proportion. This is strikingly exhibited in the 
 Nebular Hypothesis of La Place. He really thought that it ren- 
 dered a Deity unnecessary in the formation of the universe. 
 But the merest tyro in moral reasoning sees, that even ad- 
 mitting the hypothesis, a designing, infinitely wise, and pow- 
 erful Deity, is just as necessary as without it. It only throws 
 farther back the period when this designing and creative 
 interposition was exerted : and even the Christian philosopher 
 feels no difficulty in adopting this hypothesis, through fear of 
 its irreligious tendency. The fact is, that La Place, though a 
 giant in mathematics, was only a liliput on other subjects. It 
 ought not to be forgotten, also, that neither of the eminent infidel 
 mathematicians, whom I have named, were original discoverers, 
 like Newton, Copernicus, and Boyle. In making their discov- 
 eries, these latter men were led to take broad views of science, 
 and to examine the original as well as final causes of events : 
 whereas such men as La Place and D'Alembert, only carried 
 out and illustrated the principles discovered by others. In 
 tracing out these illustrations, they did, indeed, discover amaz- 
 ing acuteness: but their views were so much confined, that 
 they were but poor judges of the relations of science to religion. 
 They were excellent mathematicians, but poor philosophers. 
 For in the noble language of Sir John Herschel, one of the 
 brightest living ornaments of inductive science in Europe, " the 
 character of the true philosopher is, to hope all things not im- 
 possible, and to believe all things not unreasonable." But the 
 character of these men would be better described by saying, 
 that they doubted and denied every thing that could not be 
 proved by mathematics. They ar^ examples of malformation 
 and distortion in the philosophical world, instead of fair propor- 
 tion and full developement. 
 
 There is another circumstance which has deepened the im- 
 pression that the inductive sciences are, to some extent, unfavor- 
 able to rehgion. Scarcely any important discovery has been 
 made in these branches, that has not been regarded for a time, 
 
24 
 
 either by the timid and jealous friends of rehgion, or by its su- 
 perficial enemies, to be opposed at least to revelation, if not to 
 theism. When Copernicus demonstrated the diurnal and an- 
 nual revolutions of the earth, the infidel saw clearly that the 
 facts vi^ere in opposition to the Bible ; and the theologian was 
 of the same opinion, and arrayed scripture authority, as well as 
 compact syllogisms, against the new astronomy. But the 
 Christian soon learnt that he had misunderstood the language 
 of the Bible, because he had read it through the medium of a 
 false astronomy. So too, when the Brahminical astronomy was 
 first brought to light, and the epoch of the Tirvalore tables was 
 thought to be nearly as early as the Mosaic date of*man's crea- 
 tion, scepticism began to exult. But the tone changed when it 
 was ascertained that this epoch was supposititious. More re- 
 cently, French infidelity saw in the Zodiac of Denderah a refu- 
 tation of the biblical chronology. But when it was ascertained 
 that the position of the signs on that Zodiac, in respect to the 
 colures, had reference to the commencement of the Egyptian 
 civil year, and not to the precession of the equinoxes, this fan- 
 cied discrepancy also vanished : and now, when both biblical 
 interpretation and astronomy are better understood, every one 
 confesses, not only that the science is in harmony with revela- 
 tion, but that it aflfords some of the most splendid illustrations 
 of religion to be found in the whole circle of learning. 
 
 When at the beginning of the present century, the great dis- 
 covery was announced, that the principal part of the solid ma- 
 terials of the earth had been oxidized, or in popular language, 
 had been burnt, both the baptised and the unbaptised infidel 
 at once declared, that the final destruction of the earth, as des- 
 cribed by Peter, was impossible : since it is no longer combus- 
 tible : and since the apostle had thus erred, because not ac- 
 quainted with modern chemistry, the idea of his inspiration 
 must be given up. It was erelong found, however, that the 
 apostle's language had been misunderstood, through the influ- 
 ence of the false opinion, still widely entertained, that to burn 
 a substance is to destroy or annihilate it. But when chemistr|i 
 showed that combustion only changes the form of substances, 
 and cannot annihilate a particle, the apostle's meaning was 
 
 i 
 
25 
 
 found perfectly to correspond to such an idea : and it is now 
 obvious, that he meant to teach simply, that whatever upon or 
 within the earth is combustible, will be burnt ; and the whole 
 mass of the globe be melted. So that now the tables are com- 
 pletely turned ; and we find, not only no contradiction between 
 his language and chemistry, but a striking proof of its inspired 
 origin, in the fact, that though written when chemistry was not 
 known, it should be found in perfect harmony with the re- 
 searches of that science. And the same remark may be ap- 
 plied to the whole scriptures in their relation to all science. — 
 The most eagle eyed sagacity of the nineteenth century has 
 been unable to detect a single discrepancy between the two 
 records. The same cannot be said of any false rehgion. The 
 Shasters of Hindostan contain a false astronomy, as well as a 
 false anatomy and physiology, and the Koran distinctly avows 
 the Ptolemaic system of the heavenly bodies ; and so interwo- 
 ven are these scientific errors with the religion of these sacred 
 books, that when you have proved the former you have dis- 
 proved the latter. But the Bible, stating only facts, and adopt- 
 ing no system of human philosophy, has ever stood, and ever 
 shall stand, in sublime simplicity and undecaying strength ; 
 while the winds and the waves of conflicting human opinions, 
 roar and dash harmlessly around, and the wrecks of a thou- 
 sand false systems of philosophy and religion are strewed along 
 its base. 
 
 But the religious applications of chemistry do not consist 
 simply in illustrating a passage of scripture. It abounds with 
 the most beautiful exhibitions of the Divine wisdom and be- 
 nevolence : and notwithstanding the ingenious developments by 
 Prout, in his Bridgewater Treatise, and by Fownes in his Prize 
 Essay, I must beUeve that this field is only just entered ; and 
 ihat most precious gems will be found in almost every part of 
 'its wide extent. What admirable skill and benevolence does 
 fthe doctrine of definite proportions and atomic constitution in 
 chemical compounds present ! Here we see nature incessantly 
 performing processes, on which organic life and comfort de- 
 pend, with a practical mathematics as perfect as the theory. — 
 And then, how wonderful is the isomeric constitution, recently 
 4 
 
26 
 
 discovered, of those proximate principles that form the food of 
 animals and plants. How beautiful too, the mode, — only re- 
 cently ascertained, — by which this nourishment is brought with- 
 in their reach, and introduced into their systems ! See too 
 what wonderful benevolence as well as wisdom are displayed 
 in the laws and operations of heat, by which its very excess in 
 tropical regions, produces by evaporation the paradoxical result 
 of cooling and rendering habitable that burning zone : and on 
 the other hand, the congelation and condensation produced by its 
 absence in frigid regions, renders the atmosphere warmer and the 
 climate habitable. Think, also, how in the case of water, by an 
 apparent exception to a law of nature, just as it enters into a 
 state of congelation, the great bodies of that liquid in our riv- 
 ers and lakes are prevented from freezing up in the winter, so 
 that the longest summer would not thaw them out. And final- 
 ly, what substance in nature is so wonderfully adapted to its 
 manifold and seemingly opposite uses, as water ! 
 
 Simpi'e though it seem. 
 Emblem of imbecility itself, 
 As most regard it, yet in fact, the fooif 
 Of all organic life ; the fruitful scarce 
 Of power in human arts ; and in the clouds, 
 The storm, the mountain stream, the placid lake, 
 The ocean's roaring and the glacier's sheen. 
 The landscape's frostwork, or its icy gems, 
 Hence springs the beautiful and the sublime. 
 A power, indeed, pervading nature through ; 
 Now moving noiseless through organic lubes, 
 To keep stagnation from the vital frame ; 
 And now the Atlantic dashing to the skies, 
 Or rushing down Niagara's rocky steep, 
 Earth trembling, staggering, underneath the shock ; 
 Effects so diverse, opposite, to gain 
 By one mild element, a problem this, 
 No wisdom, short of infinite, could solve. 
 
 No sciences have furnished so many and so appropriate facts, 
 
 illustrative of natural theology, as anatomy and physiology. 
 
 They have been the great magazine, whence writers on that 
 subject have drawn their most effective weapons in their war 
 with atheism : but being so fully described in so many treatises, 
 I need not enter into particulars. Comparative anatomy and 
 physiology, however, of more recent date, have not yet been so 
 extensively employed for religious illustration as they will be : 
 
27 
 
 although Bell's Bridgewater Treatise upon the hand, affords us 
 a foretaste of what may be done. The developments of these 
 sciences are truly marvellous. Who would hqve believed, for 
 instance, fifty years ago, that such is the mathematical correla- 
 tion, not only of different parts of an animal, but of parts of 
 different animals, that from a single fragment of the bone of an 
 unknown creature, the skillful anatomist can construct his whole 
 skeleton, and then clothe it with muscles, blood vessels, and 
 nerves, and point out its food, its habits, audits haunts. Yet this 
 has been done in many instances ; and the subsequent discov- 
 ery of the whole skeleton has confirmed the accuracy of the 
 principle employed, and the results obtained. What a striking 
 proof of the existence and agency of a Being infinitely wise 
 and powerful, to contrive and create the universe ! For in 
 fact, we find that the correlation of animal structures, so beau- 
 tifully developed by Cuvier, Owen, and others, is but a specific 
 example of the great law of harmony, that links together by a 
 golden chain, the great and the small, the past, the present, 
 and the future, throughout the universe. 
 
 The science of physiology, however, lias often been looked 
 upon with jealousy by the friends of religion, as leading its vo- 
 taries to materialism. It would not be strange, indeed, if men, 
 who see such astonishing effects result from exquisite material 
 organization, and who give but little attention to the functions 
 and laws of intellect, should come to think it possible that 
 even thought may be only a result of that organization. But 
 the difficulty Ties, not in the science, but in these partial views : 
 in that common failing of literary men, to attempt to group ev- 
 ery thing under a favorite science and explain every thing by it. 
 And further, when I find even professedly Christian men de- 
 fending materialism, and some of its ablest advocates ad- 
 mitting that the soul may be something "immortal, sub- 
 tle, immaterial, diffused through the brain,"* (I use their 
 very words,) I cannot believe that the views of such men 
 as to the nature of the soul, differ much in reality from those 
 of the strict immaterialist ; although they use different terms. 
 Nor will the practical influence of their opinions, false as they 
 undoubtedly are, when understood in their strict sense, be like- 
 
 * Elliotson's Physiology, p. 39. 
 
33 
 
 ly to be very disastrous : although there is a grosser form of 
 materialism, that is made the basis of a hateful system of athe- 
 ism. 
 
 There are two recent offsets from Physiology, which have 
 been supposed fraught with influences unfavorable to religion. I 
 refer to Phrenology and Mesmerism. The first has been thought 
 to favor materialism, and to lessen human responsibility ; and the 
 latter, to bring miracles into disrepute ; and to direct us for the 
 cure of the body and the soul, to a class of dreaming pretend- 
 ers, whose responses are about as much to be relied on as those 
 of the oracle of Delphos, the god of Ekron, or the witch of 
 Endor ; and whom it is about as impious to consult. The mer- 
 its of these new branches of science, this is not the proper oc- 
 casion to discuss ; nor is it easy as yet to ascertain definitely 
 what principles in them are settled. But admitting their pre- 
 tensions, the first seems to leave the question of materialism just 
 where it found it ; since it is as easy to see how an immaterial 
 soul should act through a hundred organs as through one. Nor 
 does it seem to me more difficult, on natural principles, to see 
 how the mind may act at a distance, through the undulations 
 of a mesmeric msdium, than to see how light and heat are 
 transmitted by the waves of a luminiferous ether. On the other 
 hand, if physiology and phrenology tend to materialism, certain- 
 ly mesmerism tends even more decidedly to immaterialism ; as 
 the conversion of several distinguished materialists will testify. 
 It does, also, open to the Christian, (admitting its statements to 
 be true,) most interesting glimpses of the mode in which the 
 mind may act when freed from flesh and blood, and clothed 
 with a spiritual body. Indeed, I doubt not, that in regard both 
 to Phrenology and Mesmerism, the general principle will prove 
 true, that the more ominous of evil any branch of knowledge 
 seems to be, in its incipient state, the more prolific it will ulti- 
 mately become, in illustrations favorable both to morality and 
 religion. 
 
 The wide dominions of natural history, embracing zoology, 
 botany, and mineralogy, the theologist has ever found crowded 
 with demonstrations of the Divine Existence and of God's Prov- 
 idential care and government ; and every new province that has 
 
29 
 
 been explored by the naturalist, only serves to enlarge our con- 
 ceptions of the Creator's works, and to impress us more deeply 
 with their unity and perfection. These new conquests in un- 
 known regions havQ been astonishingly numerous within the 
 last half century: but in the direction pointed out by the mic- 
 roscope, they have been most marvellous: The existence of 
 animals too minute to be seen by the naked eye, has, indeed, 
 long been known : but it was not till the researches of Ehren- 
 berg, that any just conceptions of their infinite number and 
 indefinite minuteness were entertained. We now know, that 
 nine milhons of some of these animalcula, may live in a space 
 not larger than a mustard seed ; and that their numbers are 
 many million times greater than that of all other animals on the 
 globe. Indeed, the microscope has laid open a field into the 
 infinitessimal forms of organic and inorganic nature, quite as 
 boundlesss, both in number and extent, as the telescope 
 discloses in infinite space. Nor can we find any limits in the 
 one direction more than the other : and thus does the micros- 
 cope in the same manner as the telescope, prodigiously enlarge 
 our conceptions of the perfections of the Infinite Author of the 
 Universe. 
 
 These researches have cast not a little light upon a certain 
 hypothesis, that has been, in one form or another, often thrown 
 before the world, since the days of Democritus and Epicurus, 
 usually for the purpose of sustaining a system of atheism. It 
 supposes an inherent power in nature, capable of producing 
 plants and animals without parentage, by an imagined vital 
 force, essential to some forms of matter. The ancient philoso- 
 phers imputed these effects to a " fortuitous concourse of at- 
 oms." In modern times this general statement has been made 
 more definite by Lamarck, Geoffroy, St. Hilaire, Bory St. Vin- 
 cent, and others, who suppose that Nature, — in their vocabula- 
 ry sometimes dignified by the title of Deity, but still unintelli- 
 gent and merely instrumental, — gives origin only to " monads," 
 or " rough draughts" of organic beings ; and that these, by 
 " an inherent tendency to improvement," and " the force of ex- 
 ternal circumstances," become animals of higher and higher or- 
 ganization ; until at last the orang-outang abandoned his quad- 
 
30 
 
 rupedal condition, and stood erect as man, with all his lofty 
 powers of intellect. Before the invention of the microscope, a 
 multitude of insects and worms were thought to have this 
 equivocal origin, and to pass through these transmutations ; an 
 example of which, every Latin scholar will recollect, in the di- 
 rections of Virgil for the production of a swarm of bees out of 
 the carcass of an animal. But as optical instruments have been 
 improved, and observations have become more acute, the origin 
 of nearly every animal visible to the naked eye, has been found 
 to be by ordinary generation. The advocates of the spontane- 
 ous production of organic beings, however, still clung to the 
 animalcula and the entozoa. But it is now clearly demonstra- 
 ted, that all the former class have been derived from parents ; 
 and that more abundant means are provided for their repro- 
 duction than for any of the higher tribes of animals. The same 
 is true of the entozoa : a single individual of which, is capable 
 of producing more than sixty millions of progeny ; and it would 
 be very strange for nature to take such extraordinary pains for 
 their propagation, if it might have been accomplished spontane- 
 ously. Not a single certain example, indeed, of the spontane- 
 ous production of living beings can be adduced : and if there 
 are a few cases where parentage has not been yet discovered, 
 the past history of the subject makes it almost certain, that it 
 needs only more perfect instruments, or more extended obser- 
 vations, to prove that the same great law of reproduction em- 
 braces all animated nature. And as to the transmutation of 
 species, geology has shown that it has never taken place ; while 
 physiology demonstrates that species are permanent and can 
 never be transmuted. The individual does, indeed, pass through 
 different stages of development ; some of which resemble the 
 perfect forms of species inferior to it in the organic scale. But 
 the limits of these developments are fixed for each species ; 
 nor is there a single known instance, in which an individual has 
 been able to stop at any particular stage, and thus become 
 another species. 
 
 In view of these facts, it is not strange that most of the men 
 best qualified to judge on such a subject, as for instance, Owen, 
 the ablest of comparative anatomists ; Ehrenberg, the first of mic- 
 
31 
 
 roscopists ; and Muller, most eminent in physiology, should 
 reject these hypotheses of spontaneous generation and transmu- 
 tation. Nevertheless, the unusual interest which has been man- 
 ifested by the recent work of an English nobleman, entitled. Ves- 
 tiges of the Natural History of the Creation, wherein these hypoth- 
 esis, as well as the nebular hypotheses, are ingeniously defend- 
 ed, and that too without denying the original intervention of 
 a Divine Power in nature, show us that a long drawn contest is 
 yet before naturalists on these subjects, ere these fancies shall be 
 forced into that extramundane receptacle of things abortive and 
 unaccomplished, described by Milton as " a limbo large and 
 wide," on the back side of the moon. And yet, my conviction 
 is, that this contest will not have so important a bearing on the 
 cause of religion, as some theologists imagine. For even though 
 these hypotheses should be established, an intelligent, spiritual, 
 infinite Deity, is quite as necessary to account for existing na- 
 ture, as on the more common theory, which supposes the uni- 
 verse commanded from nothing at once in a perfect state. In- 
 deed, to endow the particles of matter with the power to form 
 exquisite organic compounds, just at the moment when circum- 
 stances are best adapted to their existence, and then to become 
 animated, nay, endowed with instincts, and with lofty intellects ; 
 all which results the advocates of these hypotheses must impute 
 to the laws impressed upon originally brute matter, — such ef- 
 fects, I say, demand infinite wisdom, power and benevolence, 
 even more imperatively than the common theories of creation. 
 I doubt not that in general these hypotheses have been adopted 
 to sustain atheistic opinions, or to remove the Deity away from 
 his works. But unbiassed philosophy sees that they utterly fail 
 to accomplish either of these objects. And I confess, that I re- 
 ject them, more because they have no solid evidence in their fa- 
 vor, than because I fear that they will ultimately be of much in- 
 jury to religion ; especially so long as such works as Whewell's 
 "Indications of the Creator," are within the reach of the 
 scholar. 
 
 The religious bearings of geology alone remain to be noticed. 
 And no science, except perhaps astronomy, has excited so much 
 alarm as this, for its supposed irreligious tendencies. But so 
 g<?on as theologians discovered, that while the Mosaic chronolo- 
 
32 
 
 gy fixes the date of man's creation, it leaves the antiquity of 
 the globe unsettled, and, therefore, a fit subject for philosophic- 
 al examination, they began to see that this science might be 
 made to shed much light upon religion. Indeed, it already ex- 
 cels every other science in the importance of its religious ap- 
 plications ; and notwithstanding the noble beginnings by Dr. 
 Buckland, Dr. J. Pye Smith, Dr. Chalmers and others, the work 
 of developement is but just begun. Would that my time and 
 your patience might permit us to take a leisurely survey of 
 this interesting field. But a glance must suffice. 
 
 To say nothing of the illustrations of the meaning of reveal- 
 ed truth derived from this science, — of collision between them 
 there is certainly none, — it furnishes us, in the first place, with 
 a new argument for the existence of a Deity. This argu- 
 ment rests upon three leading facts of the science, independent 
 of one another ; so that we may doubt or deny one or two of 
 them, and yet not reject the argument. The first is, that there 
 was a period, when no animals or plants existed on the globe, 
 and, therefore, an epoch when they were created ; which must 
 have required a Being oflnfinite Perfections. The second is, that 
 there have been on the globe several nearly entire extinctions and 
 renewals of organic life, each of which demands the agency of 
 such a Being. The third is, that man was only recently crea- 
 ted, — almost the last of the animals : — and since he is at the 
 head of creation, nothing in nature has demanded a higher ex- 
 ercise of wisdom and power than his production : and, there- 
 fore, it must have required a Deity. 
 
 It is obvious that these same facts prove clearly the non- 
 eternity of the present condition of the globe ; and even though 
 we admit the ancient doctrine of matter's eternity, yet its most 
 important modifications, requiring a Deity no less than its crea- 
 tion, must have been produced in time, and this conclusion is all 
 that is essential to theism. And thus geology, which has been 
 supposed to favor tlie idea of the world's eternity, is the only 
 science, as Dr. Chalmers has splendidly shown, that can prove 
 its non-eternity. 
 
 These same facts, and others that might be named, demon- 
 strate the occasional interference of the Deity with the settled 
 order of nature: — in other words, they show us splendid mira- 
 
33 
 
 cles of creation. And thus is all presumption against the mira- 
 cles of revelation done away : — and also all objections against 
 special Providence and special answers to prayer. 
 
 This science too, opens to us views into the arcana of past 
 duration, as deep and illimitable as astronomy does into the ar- 
 cana of space ; and there is made to pass before us a splendid 
 panorama of the vast and varied plans of Jehovah ; while 
 chemical change is disclosed to us as the great conservative and 
 controlling principle of the universe, superior even to the laws 
 of gravitation. The unity of the Divine plans, is, also, exhibit- 
 ed to us by the records of this science, on a far wider scale 
 than the existing economy of nature can show. And finally, it 
 brings before us a great number of new and peculiar proofs of 
 Divine Benevolence, that throw new glory over this attribute of 
 the Deity ; derived, as they are, from facts heretofore supposed 
 to prove Divine malevolence, or at least vindictive justice. 
 
 We have now taken a glance at the entire and vast circle of 
 human learning. And is not every mind forced irresistibly to 
 the conclusion, that every branch was originally linked by a 
 golden chain to the throne of God : and that the noblest use to 
 which they can be consecrated, and for which they were des- 
 tined, is to illustrate his perfections and to display his glory. — 
 If so, let me conclude my too protracted remarks, by a few in- 
 ferences. 
 
 In the first place, what a monstrous perversion and misap- 
 prehension of learning it is, to consider it as hostile to religion. 
 
 It is not difficult to explain how a Christian, who is very ig- 
 norant, and who learns that literary men are often sceptical, 
 should distrust the influence of learning upon religion : nor 
 how a mere smatterer in science, himself sceptical, should flat- 
 ter himself that his great learning made him so. But how 
 strange that any talented and well informed man, be he Chris- 
 tian or infidel, should not see that all science and a large part 
 of literature are 
 
 But elder Scripture writ by God's own hand ! 
 
 It must be the strongest prejudice, or the most decided ha- 
 5 
 
34 
 
 tied to religion, which can suppose that one work of the same 
 infinitely perfect God should oppose another : for in fact, learn- 
 ing and religion are only different shoots from the same parent 
 stock : and if their fruit be of opposite qualities, it must be be- 
 cause man has grafted upon one or the other, the apples of 
 Sodom. To set learning against religion, is as unnatural, as to 
 array brother against brother on the field of combat. 
 
 We see, secondly, that those engaged in directly promo- 
 ting religion, and those devoted to learning, ought to look up- 
 on each other as laboring in a common cause. 
 
 If their labors are such as they should be, they will help each 
 other ; and, therefore, they ought to rejoice in each others suc- 
 cess. For though a new branch of learning but half under- 
 stood, may sometimes put on an aspect threatening to religion, 
 we need never fear but the final result will be a new support 
 to religion ; and, therefore, the religious man should dismiss all 
 fears and jealousies in respect to sound learning ; while on the 
 other hand, every increase of true religion has an auspicious 
 bearing upon the cause of learning. 
 
 We see, thirdly, that the preacher of the Gospel may con- 
 sistently devote himself to the work of instructing the young 
 in literature and science. For in the first place, he need not, 
 by such a change, necessarily abandon the direct preaching of 
 the gospel occasionally. In the second place, by faithful in- 
 struction in learning, he may greatly promote the cause of re- 
 ligion, and train up many, perhaps, to exert a still wider influ- 
 ence in its favor. Finally, how much better that such a man 
 should use science and hterature legitimately for the support of 
 religion, than that they should be perverted by a sceptical teach- 
 er to undermine it. In spite of these reasons, however, we are 
 frequently told, that for a minister of the Gospel to become a 
 teacher of human learning, is to abandon his high calling, and 
 forfeit his solemn vows ; as indeed he may do, by engaging in 
 such pursuits from merely secular motives. 
 
 In the fourth place, we see that the more eminent a man 
 is for learning, the more eminent he should be for personal pie- 
 ty. Why, indeed, should not the latter increase in his heart, 
 as the former does in his intellect ? For every new accession 
 
35 
 
 of knowledge is but a development of some attribute or plan 
 of the Deity. The entire field of human learning all rightful- 
 ly belongs to religion, and should be regarded by the Christian 
 scholar as consecrated ground. The farther he advances in it, 
 the more does he see of the Deity ; and as he returns from 
 communion with nature, in the very holy of holies of her tem- 
 ple, he ought, like Moses from the holy mount, to show a radi- 
 ant glory on his countenance. 
 
 In the fifth place, what importance does the subject give 
 to the pursuits of learning, and the Institutions of learning ! 
 
 If knowledge is power in secular matters, it is no less so in 
 religion. I know that a higher power is essential to the success 
 of the latter. But I know too, that religion without learning 
 almost infallibly degenerates into fanaticism or dead formalism ; 
 and, indeed, at this day, true rehgion will not flourish except in 
 connection with learning; and, therefore, almost every denomi- 
 nation is now striving to found and sustain literary seminaries. 
 Nor is their importarK^e yet duly estimated, because but few 
 realize how indispensable is their agency in promoting the no- 
 blest of all objects, the salvation of men ; and, therefore, in our 
 land at least, with a few exceptions, their foundations are too 
 narrow and the superstructure too fraii. 
 
 In the sixth place, how justly are those honored, and how 
 wide an influence do they exert, who found and endow literary 
 institutions from religious motives. 
 
 They may be charged with unhallowed ambition, by men 
 who think only of the secular influence of these institutions. 
 But he who considers what is the highest use of learning, and 
 how immense will be the influence of a well endowed Seminary 
 upon the cause of religion, cannot but look upon such bequests 
 as the noblest of charities ; especially when he remembers how 
 much more enduring is that influence than when money is given 
 to most other benevolent objects. What names stand higher 
 on the Christian's roll of fame, than those of Harvard, and Yale, 
 and Dartmouth, and Williams, and Brown ? And through how 
 many coming centuries of our country's history, will their ex- 
 ample stimulate others to go and do likewise. By liberal be- 
 quests to literary institutions while yet feeble and struggling for 
 
36 
 
 existence, their names have become inseparably fixed upon 
 them, where they will remain long after the pyramids of Egypt 
 shall be crumbled into dust. In what other way could they 
 have exerted so desirable, extensive, and enduring an influence 
 upon the world ! 
 
 In the seventh place, what a noble yet immense work lies 
 before Christian scholars : viz. to make all learning subservient 
 to its highest purpose ! 
 
 Sadly have many branches been perverted, and strong is still 
 the disposition to divert all learning from its noblest use. To 
 arrest this downward tendency, and to bring back all literature 
 and all science to the service of religion, is an object of the 
 highest ambition, adapted to call forth the strongest efforts of 
 every Christian scholar. And let all such take courage. For 
 religion is the natural home of all branches of learning : and 
 though some of the sisterhood have been seduced into the ser- 
 vice of sin and the world, and have forgotten their paternity, 
 yet when reminded of their sacred origin, gladly will they re- 
 turn to the paternal hearth, and pile richer gifts upon the altar, 
 where they presented their earliest offerings. 
 
 In the eighth place, we learn how important it is, that 
 every literary institution should make the promotion of religion 
 the leading object of its system of instruction. 
 
 Other objects of subordinate importance it may and ought to 
 endeavor to accomplish : but to make these the chief things 
 aimed at, while religion is thrust into the back ground, is as if a 
 man should build an elegant mansion for the sake of improving 
 the landscape, and with no intention of living in it : or as if a 
 community should erect a church for the sake of holding town 
 meetings and political caucases in it, and hearing lyceum lec- 
 tures, vi^ith no intention of using it as a place of worship, except 
 perhaps occasionally. 
 
 There is, indeed, a great cry about excluding sectarianism 
 from our literary institutions, and throwing them open to per- 
 sons of all religious opinions. Now in this country, where we 
 have no established church, it is difficult to define a sectarian, 
 unless it be a man who differs from us in religious sentiments. 
 So that in fact, with the exception of a few, who have no opin- 
 
37 
 
 ions or care on this subject, we are all sectarians ; and to ex- 
 clude sectarianism from a literary institution, is to exclude all 
 religion from it. And such is usually the result, when it at- 
 tempts so to trim its course as to suit all parties. But really, 
 of all kinds of intolerance, that is the worst, which is furious for 
 toleration: and that the worst kind of sectarianism, which is 
 fierce for irreligion. The only truly liberal and manly course 
 for an institution to adopt, is, openly to avow its creed, and not 
 to disguise its desire to have all the youth adopt it who resort 
 thither ; while at the same time it uses no other means but ar- 
 gument and example to convert them, nor permits their religious 
 opinions, whatever they may be, to have any influence in award- 
 ing hterary honors. In this respect the motto of the ancient 
 Tyrian queen should be adopted by every teacher: 
 
 Tros Tyriusve nuUo discrimine mihi agetur. 
 
 Such a course does, indeed, make the institution sectarian ; 
 that is, it shows a preference for some particular system of relig- 
 ion. But it is an honest course, and the only honest one that 
 can be taken. For if an institution professes to regard all re- 
 ligious opinions with equal favor, who can avoid the suspicion, 
 that it is either a stratagem for introducing some unpopular 
 system, or that it indicates an almost universal scepticism on 
 the subject. Indeed, how can a man, who has any just sense 
 of religious obligation, consent to be placed in circumstances, 
 where he cannot recommend openly those religious views which 
 he deems essential to salvation ? 
 
 In the ninth place, we see that a Professorship of Natural 
 Theology, is an appropriate one in a College. 
 
 The main business of such a professor, is to go over the 
 same ground as we have now glanced at, and to trace out the 
 bearing of all literature and all science upon religion. And 
 if this be, indeed, the most important use of learning, why 
 should it be left unprovided for ; or depend upon the voluntary 
 efforts of the different instructors, whose hands are already 
 quite full ? I make these remarks, because such a professorship 
 is unusual in our Colleges ; and I have feared that the one with 
 which I have been recently honored, may seem to have been 
 
38 
 
 got up for the occasion, to eke out a deficiency of titles. But 
 it is not so : and it is proper to say, that I have in fact, for the 
 last ten years, attempted to perform the duties of such a pro- 
 fessorship. 
 
 Finally, to the principle which I have endeavored to prove, 
 we owe the establishment of many modern literary and scientific 
 institutions ; and eminently of that within whose walls we are 
 assembled. 
 
 By recurring to the history of the origin of some of the most 
 distinguished scientific societies and literary institutions of Eu- 
 rope, it will appear that one of the leading objects which their 
 illustrious founders had in view, was to extend a knowledge of 
 the Christian religion, along with the arts and sciences, to re- 
 mote and barbarous nations, particularly those of the southeast- 
 ern Asia. Among the institutions thus originating, was the 
 Royal Society of London, the French Academy, the Berlin 
 Academy, the Academia Naturae Curiosorum, the University 
 of Halle, and the Institutions of Franke at Halle ; and among 
 the distinguished men who have labored in this work, we find 
 the names of Boyle, Montucla, Leibnitz, Wolf, and Humboldt.* 
 I fear, indeed, that this object has been often lost sight of by 
 these institutions : but their origin furnishes us at least with the 
 testimony of most able and competent witnesses, to the truth of 
 the position which I have now vindicated and illustrated, as to 
 the highest use of learning. 
 
 But to come nearer home : we shall see that this Institution 
 originated in a deep conviction of this same truth in the minds 
 of those noble hearted men, who in faith and prayer, laid the 
 foundations on which we are called upon to build. The very 
 first paragraph of the Constitution, of what they then called a 
 Charity Institution, contains it ; and in the first article it is said : 
 — " In contemplating the felicitous state of society, which is 
 predicted in the Scriptures of truth, and the rapid approach of 
 such a state, which the auspices of the present day clearly indi- 
 cate : and desiring to add our feeble efforts to the various exer- 
 tions of the Christian community for effecting so glorious an 
 
 * Oiatio in Academia Fridericiana Halensi &;c. habita ab. D. J. S. 0. Schwelgger, p. 4, 
 Halle ]8M. 
 
39 
 
 event, — we have associated together for the express purpose of 
 founding an Institution on the genuine principles of charity and 
 benevolence, for the instruction of youth in all the branches of 
 literature and science usually taught in Colleges." Here we 
 see no other reason assigned for founding the Institution but a 
 wish to promote the cause of religion ; as if no other benefits to 
 result from it were worth naming. Let this fact never be for- 
 gotten by those who manage and instruct in this College. God 
 forbid that the time should ever come, when any instructor here 
 shall be ashamed, or backward, to acknowledge that the ad- 
 vancement of pure religion, — even the Christian religion,— is the 
 grand object for which he labors and makes sacrifices. 
 
 Being called to-day to occupy a new position in respect to this 
 College, it is natural to attempt to define that position somewhat ; 
 and to inquire what there may be in the condition of the Insti- 
 tution to discourage, and what to encourage, for the future. 
 
 It is well known, that an impression prevails abroad exten- 
 sively, that the College is in a state of severe depression, and 
 struggling for existence. And to some extent this impression is 
 correct. But to omit minor causes, the grand source of our 
 embarrassments is not well understood. It is a deficiency of 
 pecuniary means. There is no complaint that we send forth 
 men of corrupt principles, to contaminate the community ; nor 
 that they are deficient in scholarship, in comparison with grad- 
 uates from other Colleges. If this were the case, we should 
 hear of it from our theological, medical, and legal seminaries. 
 But for want of means, we cannot add to our libraries and appa- 
 ratus those literary and scientific luxuries, that render such an 
 Institution attractive to youth ; nor can we give to our buildings 
 and our grounds that beauty and picturesque elegance, which 
 throw a charm around them in the eyes of the student. The 
 result is we cannot offer those external attractions, which other 
 excellent institutions of ample pecuniary means present, and our 
 numbers have diminished ; though other causes, which I have 
 not time to mention, growing in part out of the altered con- 
 dition of the country, have tended to the same result. 
 
 Now why is it that we are thus stinted in our pecuniary 
 means ? Not because an enlightend Christian public have not 
 
40 
 
 been generous in their benefactions ; but for two other reasons. 
 In the first place, the unusual prosperity of the College in its 
 earlier days, compelled the Trustees to provide more ample 
 means than were subsequently needed ; and thus they incurred 
 debt. But the grand reason is, that the College has never re- 
 ceived any pecuniary aid from the State Government. Nay, 
 it has been obliged to expend its hundreds to obtain even that 
 modicum of justice, a charter. Now to establish itself without 
 such aid, has been the lot of no other College in the State ; and 
 I believe of none in New England, unless it be Brown Univer- 
 sity. Nor can such as have been thus endowed, — and liberal 
 has been the governmental patronage towards those in Massa- 
 chusetts, — imagine how hard and how long the struggle is, to 
 carry up a College to the elevation needed in the nineteenth 
 century, and in New England, by individual patronage alone. 
 
 But Amherst College has had an opportunity nobly to revenge 
 herself for this act of injustice and neglect of her unnatural step- 
 mother ; and the Commonwealth may be assured that we are 
 filling other vials of vengeance, which we mean annually to 
 pour out upon her head. More than one hundred of the regu- 
 larly educated ministers of the Gospel in Massachusetts, are the 
 graduates of this College ; and quite as large a number probably 
 in the other learned professions ; for all our graduates amount 
 to more than seven hundred. Thus has the College followed 
 the directions of the Persian poet ; or rather, of one far greater 
 than Hafiz : 
 
 " Learn from yon orient shell to love thy foe ; 
 And strew with pearls the hand that brings thee woe, 
 Free, like yon rock, from base vindictive pride, 
 Emblaze with gems, the wrist that rends thy side. 
 Mark where yon tree rewards the stony shower, 
 With fruit nectareons and the balmy flower. 
 All nature cries aloud, ' shall man do less 
 Than heal the smiler, and the railer bless ?' " 
 
 But I would not be severe. For one thing at least we sincere- 
 ly thank the Government. Without an exception, the gentlemen 
 whom they have designated as Trustees, have entered cordially 
 and efficiently into the work of building up this Institution, and 
 of relieving it of its embarrassments ; and we could not have done 
 without them. In sending us such men, the Government have 
 
41 
 
 exhibited the true spirit of those who sit in the seat of the pil- 
 grims. And in refusing that pecuniary aid, which they have 
 bestowed upon other Institutions, I am wiUirig to beheve that 
 prejudice has for a time stifled the truly liberal spirit of Massa- 
 chusetts, and that we, or our successors, shall find that our rulers 
 will never allow this refusal of aid to individual effort in pro- 
 moting the cause of learning, to become a part of our permanent 
 history. 
 
 I might have alluded to another cause of our pecuniary em- 
 barrassments. The truly devoted men, who commenced the In- 
 stitution, in their single hearted zeal to aid those indigent pious 
 young men, who were aiming at the Christian ministry, directed 
 all their efforts to obtain a fund for that purpose : and they suc- 
 ceeded nobly : for that fund now amounts to ^50,000. But it 
 can be used only for such students ; and, therefore, assists the 
 College only by attracting such young men within its walls. In 
 the mean time, they raised no funds for the general purposes 
 of the Institution, save for buildings and apparatus ; and no 
 such funds, worth naming, now exist, which are for the present 
 available. They forgot themselves in their efforts to aid oth- 
 ers ; or rather, to advance the cause of religion. 
 
 Our poverty, then, lies at the foundation of most of our em- 
 barrassments : and though this may be as trying, it is far less 
 humiliating, than if the cause were criminal ; for unavoidable 
 poverty is no crime, but often the parent of many virtues. Let 
 us now turn the tables, and see whether there are any bright 
 spots in the condition of the College. 
 
 In the first place, I am so puritanical in my notions, as to re- 
 gard the fact ominous of good, that the foundations of the Insti- 
 tution were consecrated to the cause of pure religion, by men 
 eminent for faith and prayer. Most of these men are now be- 
 yond the reach of human praise, or censure ; and, therefore, 
 I may thus speak of them. But some of us remember their 
 prayers, and sacrifices, for this object ; and we believe that all 
 such prayers will, in God's time, have an answer. These men 
 and their efforts have, indeed, been ridiculed and traduced ; just 
 as Spener and Franke were, in their noble and successful at- 
 tempt to unite science and religion, by founding the University 
 6 
 
42 
 
 of Halle. But God ultimately crowned the labors of the Ger- 
 man philanthropists with success and honor ; as I doubt not he 
 will do to the philanthropists of New England. 
 
 A second ground of confidence in the future prosperity of 
 the College, rests upon the Charity Fund. The interest on 
 this fund, with a smaller charity devoted to the same object, 
 will pay the entire College bills of fifty students, who are look- 
 ing forward to the Christian ministry. And can it be doubted, 
 that among the pious youth in the humbler walks of life, at 
 least that number will be ever ready to avail themselves of its 
 benefits, to enable them to go out as faithful heralds of the 
 cross ? The great numbers that have already been carried 
 a^ong by this noble benefaction, are an earnest of the future. 
 
 A third ground of hope for the College, lies in the fact, that 
 besides the Charity Fund, buildings, libraries, apparatus, speci- 
 mens, and a small real estate, several liberal benefactions and 
 legacies have been secured, or promised, to found professor- 
 ships, assist indigent pious young men, or for other purposes. — 
 More than fifty thousand dollars have been already made sure 
 for these objects by the decease of testators, or by actual pay- 
 ment,* though but a small part of this amount can as yet be 
 used for the benefit of the College. Some twenty thousand 
 dollars more are pledged for similar objects by individuals still 
 living, but not payable till their decease. The debt of the Col- 
 lege at this time does not exceed twelve thousand dollars : while 
 the subscriptions which are now due, or will be in a few years, 
 and not reckoned in the above sums, are fully sufficient to pay 
 this debt, These facts show us, that although at present the 
 College has almost no funds which it can employ for its current 
 expenses, yet it is certain at a future time, of an amount, 
 which, if not large, will much increase its means of usefulness ; 
 and equally certain that its debt will soon be cancelled. If, 
 therefore, we can struggle along for a few years with our pres- 
 
 * The endowment of the Williston Professorship of Rhetoric and Oratory, by Hon. Sam- 
 uel Williston, on the day in which this address was delivered, enables me to give a more fa- 
 vorable account of the pecuniary state of the College than I did on that occasion This no- 
 ble benefaction,— ^the largest we have ever received from an individual, — in addition to Mr. 
 Williston'a well known liberality toother objects, entitles him to the warmest thanks of the 
 Institution. Yet as this endowment is not payable till three years hence, the statement made 
 in the text respecting the present straitened circunietancos of the College, remains true. 
 
43 
 
 ent very limited pecuniary means, we may be sure that the pe- 
 riod of enlargement is not very distant. For these cheering 
 prospects we are largely indebted to the indefatigable efforts of 
 the present general agent ; and if, as he soon resigns his com- 
 mission, and resumes the Christian ministry, he shall be able, 
 as he hopes, to see the College debt nearly or quite liquidated, 
 the result will be to him an ample reward for his labors and sac- 
 rifices, and of high gratification to all the friends of the Insti- 
 tution. 
 
 A fourth ground of hope, lies in the system recently adopted 
 by the Trustees and Faculty, of bringing the expenses of the 
 College within its income, without at all diminishing the amount 
 of instruction, or lowering the standard of scholarship. 
 
 This is accomplished by the voluntary offer of the Faculty, 
 to conduct for the present, the instruction and other ordinary 
 concerns of the College, for its annual income, whatever that 
 may be. This will of course prevent the College running in 
 debt ; and thus render application to the friends of learning 
 unnecessary, so far as its expenses are concerned : and we have 
 seen how its present debt may be liquidated. How much sac- 
 rifice this course may require on the part of the instructors, 
 they know not. Their most anxious enquiries have been, 
 whether duty demanded the effort, and whether it would secure 
 the chief objects aimed at ; viz : to save the College from an 
 increase of debt, and prevent applications to the public for pe- 
 cuniary aid. They are willing to make the experiment, trust- 
 ing in God to crown it with success. 
 
 The means of instruction provided at this Institution, fur- 
 nish another ground of promise for its success. 
 
 Its buildings are provided with ample and convenient public 
 and private rooms. Its philosophical apparatus is of a superior 
 kind, and admirably fitted for a full course of demonstrative 
 lectures. Its laboratory is also provided with every thing re- 
 quisite for all the important experiments of chemistry : and its 
 cabinet of Natural History, contains more than 14,000 speci- 
 imens. Among them, is one of the largest and most complete 
 examples of that admirable invention of Dr. Auzoux, called 
 the Manakin. By this perfect man-model, all that knowledge 
 
44 
 
 of the anatomy and physiology of the human system, needed 
 for illustrating Natural Theology, and, indeed, for all educated 
 men except the physician, can be obtained with astonishing fa- 
 cihty, without the need of disgusting dissections. The volumes 
 in the different libraries amount to fifteen thousand. And al- 
 though here great additions are desirable, yet such additions 
 are important for the instructors, rather than the students ; since 
 the number now possessed, and the selections, are such, as to 
 afford the latter abundant means for every investigation which 
 they have time or occasion to make. But for the more ample 
 researches which the duty of the instructors requires them to 
 undertake, they must often resort to the large libraries abroad. 
 Exclusive of my own department, it may not be improper for 
 me to speak of the manner in which the different professorships 
 are filled ; since it is the result of long personal observation, 
 and I would hope that my judgment is not essentially warped 
 by private friendship. In the department of Rhetoric and Or- 
 atory, we have a gentleman well known for his long and thor- 
 ough study of these and collateral branches, and for the suc- 
 cess with which he has taught them in other institutions. In- 
 tellectual and Moral Philosophy are under the care of one, who 
 is not only honored by the literary .public, for his able works on 
 ancient literature, but admirably qualified, in the opinion of all 
 who are conversant with psychology, to unravel that difficult 
 subject. Mathematics and Natural Philosophy are in the hands 
 of one, who unites in an eminent degree, an accurate acquain- 
 tance with principles, to a most happy and skillful tact in ex- 
 perimental illustrations. The ancient languages are taught by 
 one, who, to ample ability unites indefatigable industry and 
 scrupulous fidelity, and whose long experience has taught him 
 to select the most important points in his wide department, and 
 to present them in proper proportion. And finally, to say 
 nothing of aid from able tutors, I hardly need speak of the 
 ability with which Chemistry and Natural History will be 
 taught, by one so well known as is their incumbent, through 
 the scientific world, by his able works, and for his skill and suc- 
 cess in the manipulations of the laboratory. In short, can we 
 doubt that the ability with which these several departments are 
 
45 
 
 now filled, will satisfy all the reasonable expectations of the 
 young gentlemen who come hither for instruction, and meet 
 the approbation of the public. 
 
 In the next place, the location of the College is an omen fa- 
 vorable to its success. 
 
 It needs no labored argument to show how many are the 
 advantages of having it situated in the centre of New England, 
 and among a population well known for intelligence, and for the 
 controlling influence of moral and religious principles ; such in 
 fact, as occupy the broad valley of the Connecticut. Nor need 
 I stop to show how favorable it is, that the community in which 
 it is immediately placed, have made such great efforts and sac- 
 rifices to sustain it, and, therefore, take a deep interest in its in- 
 mates, and in its prosperity ; and are still willing to do all in 
 their power to promote its welfare. Then too, while we are 
 slightly withdrawn from the bustle and exciting and demoral- 
 izing influences of our great thoroughfares of travel, we have 
 rail roads chartered, and in a course of construction, that will 
 certainly be only a few miles distant, and will ere long proba- 
 bly come to our doors : at any rate, they will be quite as near 
 as is desirable for a literary institution. 
 
 But one of the most attractive circumstances of our location, 
 to the man of taste, — and every student should be a man of 
 taste, — is the fine amphitheatre of scenery that surrounds us. 
 How rich the gentle slopes of yonder distant mountains, that 
 bound the Connecticut valley on either side ! How striking 
 Mount Sugar Loaf on the north, with its red belted and green 
 tufted crown : and Mount Toby too, with its imposing outline 
 of unbroken forest ! Especially, how beautifully and even ma- 
 jestically does the indented summit of Mount Holyoke repose 
 against the southern sky! What sunrises and sunsets do we 
 here witness; and what a multitude of })ermutations and com- 
 binations pass before us during the day, as we watch from hour 
 to hour, one of the loveliest landscapes of New England. Surely 
 if there is any poetry in the student's soul, — if any love of na- 
 ture, — they must be here developed. And how can he but 
 cherish enobling thoughts and purposes, whose eyes are contin- 
 ually feasted with such noble prospects ! 
 
46 
 
 Last, though not least, the number and character of the grad- 
 uates of this College, are an earnest of its prosperity. 
 
 These are our epistle, known and read of all men. Nor are 
 we ashamed to have it read. For though the paper was theirs, 
 we claim to have had a part in moulding the sentiments, and in 
 forming the letters, and the superscription. Now and then, 
 indeed, -in any College, an individual gets smuggled through, 
 whom the instructors regret not having winnowed out with the 
 rest of the chaff. But of the seven hundred graduates of this 
 College who still survive, how few are of this description. Not 
 less than four hundred of them have devoted themselves to the 
 Christian ministry : about thirty of whom are in foreign mis- 
 sionary fields ; and the rest mostly settled over Congregational, 
 Baptist, or Episcopal churches in our land, or are in a course of 
 preparation for the ministry. A large proportion of the remain- 
 der are established in the Legal and Medical professions. With 
 nearly all these I am personally acquainted : and of them retain 
 those agreeable recollections, which lead me to count with con- 
 fidence upon the exertion of their influence in favor of theif 
 Alma Mater. 
 
 For these reasons among others, we may feel assured of the 
 ultimate prosperity and success of this Institution. But I do 
 not wish to conceal the fact from myself, or others, that at pres- 
 ent we are passing through an exigency, of the character alrea- 
 dy explained, that demands self-denial and sacrifice, and much 
 wisdom and grace, so as not to retard the season of the highest 
 and most permanent prosperity. And at such a season, I feel 
 no ordinary reluctance to take hold of the helm: especially 
 when I remember the distinguished character for wisdom and 
 piety, of those who have preceded me in this office ; one of 
 whom has just given his parting and instructive counsels. Con- 
 cerning him, indeed, it would not be proper in this place to 
 utter the sentiments prompted by the highest respect and per- 
 sonal friendship. But I may reciprocate the kind wishes he 
 has expressed for us, in the hope and prayer that the evening 
 of his days may be as useful as their meridian, and far happier. 
 
 Under such circumstances, the office to which I am called, 
 can present few attractions to human ambition. With me, often 
 
47 
 
 called in years past to assume it temporarily, as a locum tenens, 
 it has not even the charm of novelty. And then, why should I 
 desire to leave a department to which I am attached strongly, 
 and where, if any where, I might hope for success, for one 
 which I know to abound in onerous and difficult duties, and 
 which exposes its occupant to severe criticism : especially, when 
 after a struggle of so many years with an enfeebled constitution, 
 I feel the need of a diminution instead of an increase of care 
 and labor ; and had actually been taking measures for a tempo- 
 rary release from my duties. The Trustees have, indeed, kind- 
 ly allowed me to retain a large part of my past course of in- 
 struction, which summons me often abroad into the fields, and 
 the mountains : for they well know that it would be suicidal to 
 abandon those active habits, which, for the last thirty years, have 
 been as necessary as my daily food : and without which, I 
 should long since have been in my grave. 
 
 But all these difficulties, affecting only my personal conve- 
 nience, I could cheerfully encounter, were I only convinced that 
 I shall be able to meet the expectations of the Trustees and 
 the public, in the successful management of the Institution. 
 But here it is right to confess, that my judgment coincides with 
 my feelings, in the conclusion that I am unadapted to meet this 
 present exigency. My feeling is, 
 
 Non tali auxilio, nee defensoribus istis 
 Tempus eget. 
 
 But I yield to the judgment of the Trustees and friends of the 
 College, so far as I know it to have been expressed, and cheer- 
 fully attempt the experiment in reliance upon able coadjutors, 
 upon the liberahty of the friends of the College, and above all, 
 upon help from on High. But should the result be, that my 
 opinion proves the correct one, I shall gladly resume my former 
 place, if wanted, or seek some other sphere to which I am better 
 adapted ; nor feel mortified in having failed in a station to which 
 I never aspired, which I assume reluctantly, and where my own 
 judgment predicted failure. 
 
 But though I enter upon these duties with a deep sense of in- 
 competency, think not that I, or my colleagues, take hold of our 
 
48 
 
 work with a faint and irresolute heart. Having made up our 
 minds that this is the post of duty, we mean to stand firm by it, 
 so long as God shall add his blessing, and the public shall pat- 
 ronize our labors. We boldly avow it as our leading object, to 
 make science and literature subservient to the cause of religion : 
 and we will not believe, till a fair trial has been made, that a re- 
 ligious pubhc, or the noble minded youth who come hither for 
 instruction, will wish us to adopt a lower standard. We would 
 not forget that this was the object aimed at by the founders of 
 this College, and by all the benevolent men who have aided in 
 bringing it to its present state ; and as we ply our oars from day 
 to day, we cannot but be stimulated to effort by their united 
 voice, crying in our ears, — 
 
 Mlj dtlSiSij KaiaaQa (piQsig, x'ai ti^v Kuiaaqog ti'jj'iji'. 
 
 If it be expected on this occasion, that I should say any thing 
 of the principles on which the government of the College will be 
 conducted, I must confess, that on this point I feel my incompe- 
 tency more than upon any other ; and hardly dare lay down any 
 positions beforehand. As to some general principles, however, 
 my mind is settled. One is that the government should be, 
 essentially, of a parental character. One important infer- 
 ence from this principle, is, that public censure and disgrace 
 should be inflicted as rarely as possible. On the other hand, 
 private advice, warning, and expostulation, should be begun 
 upon the earliest evidence of deviation, or even of danger, to 
 the inexperienced youth. I would carry this principle so far, 
 Ihat I would not bring the pubUc and formal authority of the 
 -College to bear upon the case, until I considered it nearly hope- 
 less. 
 
 Another important fact, on which I would base very much of 
 the discipline of College is this : Every young gentlemen who 
 comes here, — with scarcely an exception,— knows very well how 
 he ought to conduct, and how he must conduct, in order to go 
 successfully through his four years course. And I would say to 
 him, " here are our rules, which we have found necessary ; and 
 if you join us we shall place entire confidence in your disposi- 
 tion and determination to observe them. We throw you on your 
 
49 
 
 own responsibility, as a young gentleman who knows how to 
 conduct and can be trusted. We shall not exercise over you 
 any vile system of espionage, or suspect you of any secret and 
 dishonorable course, until forced to it by the strongest evidence." 
 Now in the hearts of most young men, before they have become 
 corrupt, there is too much of true nobility, to abuse such confi- 
 dence, and meanly to violate rules which they know to be good, 
 and which they have promised to observe. Let them be trusted 
 therefore, and let not unreasonable suspicion destroy their self- 
 respect and sense of honor. But if you are compelled at length 
 to give up your confidence in the integrity of an individual, — 
 and a practised instructor sees this very early, — iet him be pri- 
 vately told, that since he cannot conform to the rules of the In- 
 stitution, and is receiving no benefit from it, and the influence 
 of his example is bad, he had better leave it before it is necessa- 
 ry to make his case public, and while he can do it without dis- 
 grace. And the more I see of College life, the better satisfied I 
 am, that these private dismissions are apt to be delayed too long, 
 both for the student and the institution. 
 
 But I will not enlarge further upon this subject. A single 
 point more, and I will relieve this exhausted audience. And 
 yet probably this point is of more importance than every thing 
 else which I have said. 
 
 I have intimated that the principal immediate cause of the 
 embarrassments of our College is a deficiency of pecuniary 
 means. And it is very natural, when we find our hands tied, 
 and every desirable improvement checked from this cause, to 
 feel that this is the sole and the original source of all our per- 
 plexities. Nay, we are tempted to exclaim, with the father of 
 epic poetry, in a sentiment which none but a poor man ever 
 would have conceived, 
 
 XQvxsog av'oiYti navra, x'uiSti nv?.ug. 
 
 But I am afraid there is a cause, and a principal one too, that 
 lies deeper than this : a cause which has been too much over- 
 looked ; but to which in fact, may be traced even our pecunia- 
 ry deficiencies. I mean a diminution of that sense of depend- 
 ance on God, and faith in Him, which characterized the found- 
 7 
 
50 
 
 ers of this Institution. The object with them that swallowed 
 up all others, was to make learning subservient to human salva- 
 tion : and in endeavoring to gain such an object, they knew 
 they might confidently rely upon Divine help to dispose the 
 hearts of the Christian pubhc to aid them. But I fear that we, 
 who have entered into their labors, have in a measure mingled 
 other objects with the great original one, and as a consequence, 
 have been led to rely too much upon human plans and human 
 wisdom. We expect too much from worldly policy, and too 
 little from faith and prayer. When success attends our efforts, 
 we think too much of the instrumentality ; and when we meet 
 with rebuffs and discouragement, we impute it to any thing rather 
 than to our departures from God. Indeed, among the numer- 
 ous reasons that have been assigned for our embarrassments, I 
 have never heard this named, which I fear lies at the foundation 
 of the whole. 
 
 If there be any truth in these suggestions, (and indeed, if 
 there be not,) then the grand thing wanted among the instruc- 
 tors and friends of this College, is, a deeper conviction of the 
 importance of the grand object for which it was founded, and a 
 determination to baptize every effort for its advancement in faith 
 and prayer. Let us never forget, that 'promotion cometh neither 
 from the east nor the west, nor from the south : But God is 
 judge : He setteth up one, andputteth down another. How easy 
 for him to blast the fairest schemes, and to prosper the weak and 
 the trembling ! Nor let our confidence in Him, or in the pros- 
 perity of this Institution, be shaken, because it has been called 
 to pass through straits, and other conflicts may still await it. 
 We believe that these storms in its youth, are intended, by a 
 wise Providence, only to make its roots strike deeper, and to 
 give its trunk greater strength, and its branches wider exten- 
 sion in its maturity. Only let faith hold on firmly to the princi- 
 ple, that God will assuredly crown with success every sincere, 
 effort to bind the wreath of learning around the brow of Religion, 
 and cheerfully and resolutely shall we consecrate ourselves to the 
 great work of sustaining and advancing this Institution ; and 
 though we shall not be allowed to labor long here, or elsewhere, 
 yet while we live, and when we die, we may confidently utter 
 
51 
 
 in behalf of its pupils, its guardians, and all its future interests, 
 the prayer of a heathen, with a Christian meaning, and a Christ- 
 ian spirit : 
 
 Dii piobos mores docili juventie, 
 Dii senectuti placids quietem 
 RomulcB genti date remque prolemque 
 Et decus omne [ 
 

 
 
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