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A DISCOURSE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 I 
 
 GRADUATING CLASS 
 
 OF 
 
 DICKINSON COLLEGE, 
 
 BY 
 
 JESSE T/PECK, D. D, 
 
 July, iSi-2. 
 
o% 
 
 ■ 
 
GOD IN EDUCATION: 
 
 A DISCOURSE 
 
 TO TSB 
 
 GRADUATING CLASS 
 
 OB 
 
 DICKINSON COLLEGE, 
 
 JUfcy, 1852. 
 
 I 
 
 - 
 
 BY JESSE T. PECK, D. D. 
 
 
 * WASHINGTON i 
 PRINTED BY ROBERT A. WATERS. 
 1852. 
 
L^ 
 
 
 Dickinson Ccllege, July $th, 1852. 
 REV. J. T. PECK, 
 
 Dear Sib : We have the pleasure to express to you the thanks of the Graduating 
 Class'for your excellent Baccalaureate Address, delivered before them on the 4th 
 instant, and respectfully request a copy for publication. 
 
 Your obedient servants, 
 
 HENRY ANDERSON, 
 C. P. HUMRICH, 
 W. A. SNIVELY, 
 THOMAS SHERLOCK, 
 ULYSSES HOBBS, 
 
 Committee of Clast>, 
 
 Dickinson Coliege, July 8, 1352. 
 
 filNTLEHEN : 
 
 I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your kind note of this day, con- 
 veying the thanks of the Graduating Class for my Baccalaureate address, and re- 
 questing a copy for publication. 
 
 I am aware of the defects of the discourse ; but, fully believing in the funda- 
 mental importance of the principles it contains, and desiring to avail myself of 
 every opportunity to urge them upon public attention, I most cheerfully comply 
 with your request. 
 
 Accept, gentlemen, for yourselves, and the class you represent, the highest con- 
 sideration of 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 JESSE T, PECK. 
 Messrs. H. Anderson, C P. Humrich, and others, 
 
 Committee. 
 
BACCALAUREATE DISCOURSE. 
 
 Ce And now brethren, I commend you to God, and to the word of his 
 grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance 
 among all them which are sanctified." — Acts XX. 32. 
 
 GENTLEMEN OF THE GRADUATING CLASS: 
 
 The thoughts of the last four years are chiefly unutter- 
 ed. At this time, they seek expression, and among them 
 there may be some which deserve special consideration. 
 The kind invitation to which I now respond affords me an 
 opportunity to present such as seem to me important and 
 appropriate. I have been no uninterested spectator of 
 your toils, your difficulties, and your success. I have con- 
 templated your future with feelings of tender solicitude 
 and confiding hope, and as we are about to part, I can find 
 no language so true to myself as that of the great Apostle 
 in his farewell charge to his companions in labor, in tri- 
 bulation, and in joy ; " I commend you to God, and to the 
 word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and give 
 you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified." 
 
 You will observe here, an expressive " architectural 
 metaphor." Man is fallen. He is a temple in ruins ! 
 You behold every where the signs of its former grandeur, 
 but look in vain for its magnificent proportions and har- 
 monious effect. The great problem of re-edification is 
 presented. How can this once proud structure be raised 
 from the dust, and reared again in its original beauty and 
 glory ? 
 
In seeking to solve this question, man is never weary 
 of experiments. He tries, and tries in vain, ten thousand 
 combinations of human strength and skill. Education is 
 his favorite general term to denote them all. By the toils 
 of the nursery, and especially by long years of scholastic 
 training, he hopes to draw out the powers of the immor- 
 tal mind, to develope the man, to purify him from his deep 
 corruptions, and present him in all the symmetry and love- 
 liness of his first creation I In these struggles his frequent 
 failures are amazing to himself. The father wonders at 
 the perverseness of his child. The teacher ponders over 
 the defeat of his plans and is confounded by the strange 
 obliquity of his pupils. Societies, Educational Boards, and 
 State-organizations, are astonished at the inadequate re- 
 sults of their well-matured schemes, their liberal invest- 
 ments and their protracted labours. Students are often 
 disappointed, and half-suspicious of intended fraud or 
 criminal neglect, as they reach the moment in which the 
 world in its charity pronounces them educated, when they 
 perceive how little they know, and how far they are from 
 having solved the problem of human life, or prepared them- 
 selves for the conflicts which await them. Most of all 
 does society feel its want of adequate guarantees for the 
 conservation of its rights, the redressing of its grievances, 
 and the moral harmony of its elements. It has leaned 
 upon its educational systems for support in the hour of 
 its peril, but they have not unfrequently furnished the 
 very materials of its disorganization* It has waited for 
 its young men to come forth endowed with sagacity to 
 see, and power to remedy the evils of the social state; but 
 alas ! how frequently have they emerged from the halls of 
 learning only charged with the terrible energy of invigo- 
 rated and concentrated selfishness, and powerful to exe- 
 cute the ruinous schemes of a misguided ambition. 
 
Surely in all these instances, there must be some grand 
 defect in the system. Some living, pervading and com- 
 manding element in the combinations, for the construction 
 of the true man, must be wanting. I think we may learn 
 from the teachings of inspiration that this element is 
 God in Education — the theme to which we invite 
 your attention. 
 
 u I commend you to God and to the word of his grace," 
 for your edification in all the elements of a good character 
 and for the reward of your labour. 
 
 JL correct aim is an element in character which cannot 
 be overestimated. Action without aim is unworthy the 
 dignity of man. The mere animal lies down to rest, rises 
 and seeks his prey, bounds from cliff to cliff, growls and 
 chafes in anger, or frolicks in sport, all without a reason. 
 God has provided him with the instincts of his species with- 
 out the rational power to define an object, adjust a scheme, 
 or feel the force of a motive. All the means which mere 
 instinct adopts, are as mechanical and unintelligible to 
 their subject as the end, either gained or missed. 
 
 But who would accept this as the type of man ? He 
 has the power of choice. He is endowed with reason. He 
 can examine the numberless modes of human existence and 
 prefer one to the other. He can look into the future and 
 determine its probable character from the action of the pre- 
 sent, and the developements of the past. If he should neg- 
 lect to use this distinguishing ability he would sacrifice the 
 higher pleasures, and defeat the nobler ends for which he 
 was created. And it cannot be denied that the lives of mul- 
 titudes are practically without a rational aim. At least, the 
 developements of intellect are scarcely higher than animal 
 instincts. They sleep and wake as animals do. They exhi- 
 bit all the animal appetites and passions in their turn, and 
 obey their controlling impulses in seeking the means for 
 
6 
 
 their gratification. But it is the effect of education to ele- 
 vate man above this dreamy, aimless mode of existence. 
 Some end is proposed in all study. Sad experience howe- 
 ver proves, that it is not likely to be the true one. A 
 skillful architect is required to form a good design. And 
 in the case in question, the Architect must be God. He 
 alone " is able to build you up." He alone can form an 
 original and adequate conception of the model after which 
 this edifice is to be re-constructed and adorned. If you 
 derive your plan from your own minds, it certainly can- 
 not be wiser or better than the minds themselves. 
 
 We have hence, examples of youth who enter an 
 Academy, or College, simply because it is deemed respect- 
 able. Some family pride is to be gratified. The name of 
 being a College graduate is the realization of the loftiest 
 aspirations of childhood. Hence a mere mechanical atten- 
 tion to books, a free use of translations, or habitual depen- 
 dence upon class mates. Hence an idle, listless mode of 
 spending time, and indifference to minus, so long as it does 
 not amount to a fatal number. Simple promotion from 
 year to year is the height of ambition. Under the domin- 
 ion of such an aim — to be recommended by the Faculty, 
 to be included in the mandamus of the Board, and listen 
 to the long anticipated, " cvjus hocce diploma sit testimo- 
 nium" is glory enough for one college life. What num- 
 bers have thus wasted the most precious part of their 
 time — spread the infection of their indolence and fashion- 
 able vices far and near — dragged themselves through a 
 routine of classical studies, and passed out into the world 
 with all the assurance and pretensions which an affecta- 
 tion of learning can give ; and all for the want of a just 
 aim in the use of college privileges. 
 
 Others commence their career as students, with a desire 
 to excel. An ambition which disdains mediocrity urges 
 
them iorward ; and they are resolved to write their names 
 high on the records of fame. For this they spend their 
 weary days and nights. No sacrifice of healthy or means, 
 or friends, is worth a moment's consideration before the 
 god they adore. As their eyes are gradually opened to 
 the phantom — as the suspicion of illusion matures to con- 
 viction, and they perceive that honor is a name and am- 
 bition a tyrant, their stimulus is gone — their motive power 
 is lost, and unless they can be induced to turn "to God 
 and the word of his grace " for the solution of the problem 
 which annoys and distracts them, and a revelation of the 
 true aim of a deathless soul, they must remain at sea with- 
 out a helm or chart, the sport of every wind that blows. 
 To pass from college halls in this condition is to run the 
 hazard of the most painful failure, and to incur the most 
 fearful responsibility. 
 
 But, gentlemen, the Creator has not left us to any such 
 necessity. In his wisdom and compassion he himself has 
 offered to be our guide. By his word he reveals to us a 
 higher, nobler purpose of human action. It is announced 
 in language the most distinct and emphatic, " whether ye 
 eat or drink, or whatever ye do, do all to the glory of God." 
 Here is an aim higher than earth — far above independent 
 human conception. And yet, when once announced, it 
 meets a prompt response from the human reason. The 
 creature certainly belongs to the Creator. It must be His 
 sovereign right to dispose of every power of body and 
 mind with which he has endowed us. Whatever offends 
 Him, must be false in itself, wrong in its developements, and 
 perilous in its results. Whatever pleases Him, must be 
 true, ennobling to human nature, and eminently safe. 
 God in the aims of the student must inspire him with 
 deep abhorrence of all those groveling ends so natural to 
 our fallen state — the indulgence of a transient passion, 
 
8 
 
 the gratification of family pride or personal ambition — the 
 temporary elevation of a sinner doomed to eternal death — 
 the outward splendours of perishable matter — the brief 
 ascendency of a spirit breathing moral pestilence wher- 
 ever it moves — the resistless energy of mind educated to 
 make war upon itself, upon its kindred and its Creator. 
 God in the student's aim, gives sound discretion in the se- 
 lection of his studies, and devoted industry in the use of 
 his time. It imparts a high and commanding regard for 
 the authority of law, and the simplicity and dignity of 
 conscious rectitude to his bearing. It elevates his con- 
 ceptions of human nature and probation. It takes the 
 thoughts and words, and actions of men from their sepa- 
 rate, momentary, and perishable rank, and combines them 
 into one continuous responsible life, extending into eter- 
 nity. It sheds a new and brilliant lustre upon virtue and 
 piety, and stamps with infinite dignity the destiny of 
 man. 
 
 I cannot dismiss this topic without suggesting, that 
 this highest elevation of human purpose is seldom attain- 
 ed. Many have misled themselves by substituting mere 
 approbation of it for its adoption, by occasional efforts to 
 reach it without the guidance of a divine hand — by a de- 
 cision in its favor which has resulted in no dethronement 
 of self — no consecration to God — no habit of asking, what 
 connection has my present employment with the glory ot 
 <3-od ? How can I, now, and forever, most promote this 
 grand and legitimate aim of my responsible being ? But 
 let nothing discourage you in the effort. Those who 
 have gained this enviable elevation have gained it by 
 meek submission to the teachings of Christ, and have 
 reason this day to thank God and take courage. Those 
 who are compelled to own that they have thus far lived 
 only for self, should feel that the great and ruling vice 
 
9 
 
 of fallen human nature remains yet to be subdued, and 
 that; so far from having accomplished the end of educa- 
 tion, they have not yet fully grasped it in thought, or 
 fixed their hearts upon it. The first grand element of a 
 great character and a successful life-battle is yet to be 
 formed : but God will help you* The utter emptiness 
 of all other hopes— the loathing of all other purposes 
 which has resulted from your brief experience, is the 
 foundation of that re-edification which your duty and in- 
 terest alike demand. It is the beginning of a new reve- 
 lation which will open to you the visions of eternity. 
 For the realization of this glorious end, " I commend you 
 to God and to the word of his grace." 
 
 Another important element of a good character is intel- 
 ligence. There is abundant evidence that man was form- 
 ed to know. His physical organs are adjusted to the ma- 
 terials of knowledge that are without. His conscious- 
 ness reports correctly the phenomena within as they oc- 
 cur. He is endowed with the power of inspection which 
 may extend his knowledge of facts far beyond what is 
 superficial, and easily accessible. He is gifted with 
 memory which gathers the facts of his own past observa- 
 tion, and, with association which collects, and compari- 
 son which groups them, according to their specific or 
 general agreement and differences. The practical reason 
 extends the area of investigation, discovers new truths, 
 and deduces principles from facts, laws from develope- 
 ments, and realities from phenomena. All these capa- 
 bilities are brought into requisition in the life of a student, 
 Curiosity impels him to learn the things he does not al- 
 ready know, and the gratification of this desire within 
 just limits is the right and duty of all. 
 
 The demand for a high order of intelligence was, per- 
 haps, never more imperative than at the present ; and 
 
10 
 
 the future promises to increase the demand beyond the 
 power of human conception. Questions of State-policy 
 which involve the liberty of the world, are daily becom- 
 ing more intricate and pressing. The grand social prob- 
 lem threatens to renounce all history— to set revelation 
 aside, and throw itself upon the wave of experiment. 
 Haste, in the measures of progress, despises the restraints 
 of conservatism, and urges forward every thing in the di- 
 rection of revolution. Reason spurns the shackles of au- 
 thority, and proposes to unsettle the foundations of our re- 
 ligious faith. Scarcely a distinguishing doctrine of the 
 christian system has been unassailed or is even now al- 
 lowed to rest upon ancient grounds. The war upon es- 
 tablished principles waxes fiercer and more desperate 
 with every revolving year. 
 
 Who, therefore, would rush into this conflict unarmed? 
 Who would hazard his reputation by asking rank and con- 
 sideration by the side of the scholars of this burning age, 
 without a sound and thorough education? What fright- 
 ful exposures to fraud upon every hand must be inevita- 
 ble to the ignorant ! What peril must arise from the 
 want of sound intelligence to those who are destined to 
 come into collision with all the arts of the dialectician, 
 and all the pretensions of a proud, a learned, and an ir- 
 responsible philosophy ! Those who thus blindly rush 
 into the dangers and struggles of this last half of the 
 nineteenth century, are destined to find before they are 
 aware of their exposure, their most revered principles 
 scattered to the winds — their dearest hopes blasted, and 
 their future covered with the gloom of a heartless skepti- 
 cism. 
 
 Roused, to some extent, to the perils which surround 
 you, you will feel a thrill of pleasure and a high sense of 
 security in the acquisitions you have already made. You 
 
11 
 
 will take refuge, it may be, within the collected elements 
 of knowledge which you have found in the schools, and 
 feel that you are safe ! But, gentlemen, it is my duty to 
 caution you at precisely this point. Is it any number of 
 facts or principles gathered from classic pages or mathe- 
 matical solutions, or philosophical discussions, that con- 
 stitutes, in the truest and highest sense, an intelligent 
 man ? Is a man to defend his assaulted virtue by quota- 
 tions from Cicero or Xenophon ? Is he to guard his sa- 
 cred principles by enunciations and demonstrations in 
 Algebra, Geometry, the Calculus or Mechanics ? Is he 
 to demonstrate his piety by extracts from Paley or Butler? 
 Is he to test the merits of letters and determine the moral 
 value of systems and schemes for the renovation of 
 society — of new revelations in the worlds of progress 
 opening before him, by the Ethics of Wayland or the 
 Metaphysics of Upham ? Is he to battle down the hosts 
 of foes to truth and justice — to exorcise the demons which 
 inhabit the souls of men, by the syllogisms of Whately, 
 or quench the fires of perdition by the compositions of 
 the Laboratory 1 Verily, No ! Intelligence surely has 
 a profounder meaning, and it is your duty to dig for it as 
 for hid treasure. It is the truth-element in all departments 
 of study, that constitutes your real prize — which seized, 
 comprehended in its relations, developed in its practical 
 bearings, and incorporated into the very being of the soul, 
 constitutes the truly intelligent man. This is to be found, 
 not chiefly in books, but in men; not mainly in facts, but 
 in general principles ; not so much in the sayings as in 
 the doings of the race ; not so much in the theories of 
 professional speculators, as in the great world of matter 
 and mind as Jehovah produced them ; not so much in 
 the elaborations of human wisdom, as in the volume of in- 
 spiration. 
 
12 
 
 If now it be demanded haw is this grand acquisition to 
 be made ? What is the secret of discovering truth and 
 rendering it available? I answer, God in Education. 
 He alone who made the soul can remove its blindness, and 
 eradicate its vices — can correct its tastes, and inspire it 
 with such a love of truth as will move it to the toils re- 
 quired to reach and appropriate it. God must, there- 
 fore, be presented to the minds of students in such forms 
 of majesty and glory as to fill them with awe, and excite 
 them by a new and divine inspiration. His fearful jus- 
 tice and the dreadful sanctions of his law must be held 
 before their gaze, until they shall be penetrated with con- 
 viction for sin, and cry out in agony for deliverance from 
 its power. His amazing love— His divine compassion, 
 must melt their hardness, and attract them by its charm 
 to a sphere of thought and feeling far above their natural 
 conceptions. His divine philanthropy must expose, and 
 condemn, and crush the selfishness of their hearts. His 
 awful purity must wither and destroy their love of the 
 earthly, the sensual, the devilish, the frivolous, and the 
 false, and his renovating energy give ascendency to the 
 heavenly, the spiritual, the divine, the real, the true. 
 The reason must be enlightened by the rays of the God- 
 head. The eye of the soul must examine all facts and 
 all teachings in Heaven's own pure light. This will 
 " separate the precious from the vile," and present to 
 the gaze of mortals, the pure truth which constitutes the 
 very soul and essence' of an intelligent character. 
 
 But, gentlemen, I should do injustice to myself, and to 
 you, and especially to the important theme I am attempt- 
 ing to discuss, if I were not at this point to urge with 
 great distinctness, that this style of intelligence is revealed 
 exclusively to faith. God can thus be seen and realized 
 in Christ alone. Discard the grand principles of revela- 
 
13 
 
 lion — -reject the Son and his atoning sacrifice — shut your 
 heart against the divine councils of the Holy Ghost, and 
 you have nothing but poor, blind, corrupt humanity left ; 
 and what hope is there then of rising to the sublime 
 sphere of pure unalterable truth ? 
 
 Mark the contrast between the elements of intelligence 
 cut off from their connections with spiritual and eternal 
 realities, and the same elements illustrated by a sound 
 and consistent faith. To the Atheist, the wonders of na- 
 tural history are a succession of happy accidents with no 
 significance beyond themselves — the mechanism of the 
 heavens, and the glories of the firmament, are without a 
 reason, and without an end. Laws are names — are 
 nothing but the expression of convenience or fancy. 
 But a God believed, and what mighty thoughts are con- 
 nected with these studies ! The smallest insect is a de- 
 monstration of Almighty power, and omniscient wisdom. 
 The reptile that crawls at their feet gives lessons of divini- 
 ty to the profoundest thinkers of the age. The elements 
 of this vast creation, detached and meaningless, become 
 parts of one amazing whole — the work of one general 
 architect who pervades, upholds, and rules the universe. 
 Man himself is snatched from the degrading rank of an 
 animal accident, and installed as the high priest of na- 
 ture — the heavens glow with celestial fire, and creation 
 becomes vocal with the high praises of God. To the 
 mere theist, mind and matter are of equal dignity ; right 
 and wrong, virtue and vice, are ideas, resolvable into 
 simple questions of convenience, and of no further obli- 
 gation or importance. Sin is no otherwise to be dread- 
 ed, than as a disturbance of political harmony, and when 
 it can be pressed into the service of the individual or of 
 society, is identical with holiness. Law is without its 
 sanctions, and of course, its authority. But the Bible be- 
 
14 
 
 lieved, and all truth is divine — the soul rises to the dig- 
 nity of immortality — the moral character includes in itself 
 the fearful retributions of another world. Every word, 
 and thought, and action, is invested with an eternity of 
 meaning. Sin assumes a vileness and a power unseen, 
 except in the light of the divine law, and by the glare of 
 unquenchable flames. Goodness rises to the highest 
 point of moral grandeur, illustrated by the glories of hea- 
 ven. To the practical unbeliever, all motive is tempora- 
 ry and utilitarian — powerless in the presence of passion 
 or interest. But a Saviour believed, and the hope of 
 pardon opposes and defeats the wickedness of despair. 
 The vices are shamed by the manifestations of infinite 
 purity and love, and the feeblest virtue gathers courage 
 and strength by the offers of eternal life. It is thus evi- 
 dent, that it takes much strong faith to constitute a man. 
 He who believes not, reduces eternity to time, spirit to 
 matter, design to accident, law to confusion, every thing 
 to nothing. The skeptic is but a fraction of a man. By 
 the destruction of faith, he shuts up a soul designed to 
 roam at large in the fields of eternity, to a dull, detached, 
 and meaningless present. He limits intelligence to a cir- 
 cle of facts, when the faith of a christian would give it 
 the range of infinity. 
 
 Thus, gentlemen, it appears that faith is a fundamental 
 condition of intelligence in its truest, loftiest sphere — that 
 it introduces God into the studies of the scholar, and thus 
 corrects his errors and extends indefinitely the field of 
 truth. You are thus furnished with another reason, why 
 " I commend you to God and the word of his grace " for 
 your edification in the elements of a good character. But 
 again: 
 
 Correct principles are indispensable parts of a good 
 character. It is, perhaps, one of the greatest errors of 
 
15 
 
 men to attach chief importance to external conduct. A 
 decent regard for the feelings and opinions of society re- 
 quires that the vices of the heart should be concealed from 
 public view. Toleration, and at least popular favour, 
 demands a fair exterior. For this reason, and perhaps 
 for others, to correct the life, to regulate the developments 
 of character, engages the principal attention of multitudes. 
 Not a few greatly wonder at their failures. Even in 
 their own charitable and partial judgment, much which 
 they say and do in the presence of others, is justly liable 
 to the severest criticism. Their feeling of mortification, 
 their bitter self-reproaches, when they retire from the 
 circles of fashion to commune with their own hearts, are 
 known only to themselves and to God. And with un- 
 feigned sincerity, though, doubtless, from entirely mistaken 
 motives, they renew their vows, and strengthen their pur- 
 poses for another effort ; only to be followed by similar 
 failures, and similar mortification. Besides, it should not 
 be forgotten that the external conduct of men is subjected 
 to a much sterner criticism than that of self, and hence, 
 not unfrequently, defects in character, inward corruption, 
 and infidelity at heart, have crept stealthily out to the view 
 of others, when they have gloried in their fancied con- 
 cealment. Again and again has the false, the treacher- 
 ous spirit, triumphed in an imaginary good impression, 
 when, in point of fact, he has driven the dagger of the 
 suicide to the heart of an idolized reputation. I wish to 
 lay it down as a universal truth, and I am sure, gentlemen, 
 you cannot overrate its importance, that character and life 
 will, on the whole, inevitably correspond, or in other words, 
 that a man is as his principles. To the sources then of 
 these external streams, it is time to direct attention. 
 
 Purity is a fundamental principle of a correct character. 
 It may be stated as the general sense of mankind, that a 
 
16 
 
 corrupt character, is a bad one — ^vvrong in the worst possi- 
 ble sense, and every way to be reprobated and avoided. 
 But against this general sense is the stern unquestionable 
 fact, that all men are sinners — that sin is, in its very essence, 
 corruption, and that the impurities of the heart are secretly 
 cherished and loved, at the same time, that they are con- 
 demned with unsparing severity. This is the grand 
 radical defect and offence in human character. And un- 
 less it be remedied, you will try in vain to secure the 
 merit of external purity. Corruption at heart will antag- 
 onize a thousand good resolutions, and defeat a thousand 
 plans of virtue and usefulness in action. It permeates the 
 very being in every faculty and developement. It infuses 
 itself into the most secret thoughts, conceptions, feelings, 
 and motives, and pushes itself out in ten thousand name- 
 less forms in the external life. It may be condemned 
 and cursed in the bitter resentment of wounded pride — 
 it may be disguised, suppressed, or buried by artful apolo- 
 gies, determined resistance, or artificial graces, but it will 
 rise again and shake its gory locks before your haunted 
 vision, and will not down at your bidding. 
 
 In all your efforts at personal inprovement therefore, if 
 you would be crowned with success, you must bestow 
 principal attention upon legitimate means for the purifica- 
 tion of the heart. This is the first, and parent of all good 
 principles. It should be the first idea instilled into the 
 mind of tender infancy. It should accompany the lessons 
 of instruction from the nursery to the profession. It is 
 the image which fancy should be taught to paint for the 
 vision, admiration, and longings of the soul in every 
 stage of education. But, will this alone achieve the re- 
 sult ? Nay, is even this absorbing interest in purity prac- 
 ticable as the product of the natural mind ? Can a fixed, 
 steady, and operative desire for purity co-exist with that 
 
infidelity which; in theory or practice, rejects the aid oi 
 Jehovah and tramples upon the authority of his holy word. 
 Let experience and reason answer. Let the myriads oi 
 characters wrecked, hearts riven, and hopes crushed, 
 along the rugged path of life, tell the tale of human folly. 
 " Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean ? Not 
 one." As well may " the Leopard put off his spots, or the 
 Etheopian change his skin," as the heart of man to re- 
 generate or purify itself. You "cannot gather giapes of 
 thorns, nor figs of thistles." "The evil man out of the evil 
 treasure of his heart, bringeth forth evil things." Is it 
 therefore demanded with deep concern, "wherewith shall 
 a young man cleanse his way?" It is confidently responded, 
 " by taking heed thereto, according to thy word." There 
 must be a God in those lessons of instruction which would 
 sink down into the soul and expose its deep and all per- 
 vading depravity — a God in that power which would rouse 
 it to a sense of its guilt and peril, and bring it to the re- 
 demption that is in Christ Jesus. In the absence of di- 
 vine influence and love, man is educated, but to strengthen 
 his vices, is developed only as a sinner, is fortified against 
 the truth, and nerved with energy to ruin the souls of his 
 brethren. God in education, is purity itself illumina- 
 ting, hallowing and elevating the soul — inspiring it with 
 an abhorrence of sin — attracting it by the charms of holi- 
 ness, and leading it on to the accomplishment of those 
 lofty ends proposed in its creation, and in its regeneration. 
 Closely allied to this, and arising immediately out of it, 
 is the element of truth. We are formed to hate falsehood. 
 The grosser forms of dishonesty excite our disgust, and to 
 intimate a doubt of a man's veracity, is justly deemed the 
 severest reflection that can be made upon personal honor 
 and self-respect. And yet, to be in the strictest sense a 
 man of truth, is both more difficult and rare than we com- 
 monly suppose. 
 
IS 
 
 Mere verbal accuracy is not the thing which I seek to 
 exhibit. Important as this may be justly deemed, it is 
 but an accident of that vital law of sound morality which 
 adopts as its invariable motto, " fiat justitiaruat ccelum." 
 First of all, the principle of truth must be imbedded in 
 the very foundations of character. If it be adopted as a 
 convenience, it will be sacrificed at pleasure. If it be 
 put on as an accession, it will be laid aside as a burden. 
 The trials of veracity are too severe for a mere artificial 
 attachment to the right and the just. A young man vio- 
 lates the laws of society — he is questioned, and it is 
 whispered in his ear, that he may avoid the responsibility 
 by denial or evasion. He is asked one question, and 
 answers another — saves himself from a censure, severe or 
 slight, and bears off with him a polluted conscience. He 
 might have exhibited the qualities of a man, but he has 
 acted the part of a coward. He has shrunk from justice 
 at the bar of mortals ! What may he expect at the bar 
 of God ? In his career as an active, responsible citizen, 
 his truthfulness will be assailed by interest, by flattery, by 
 strong temptation, from the father of lies. The artful 
 seductions of the hypocrite, the smiles and blandishments 
 of the vain and the giddy, the splendid enchantments of 
 the rich and the vile, will conspire to infuse into his 
 heart and mind the deadly poison — to make him untrue 
 to himself, untrue to his instructions, untrue to his God. 
 Slight indeed may be his first divergence from the line of 
 veracity. In the merest levity he misleads his opponent 
 or deceives his friend. The twinges of conscience sub- 
 side, and he ventures farther, and farther still, until at 
 length he stands out before the world, a false, a perjured, 
 heartless wretch ! " There is no truth in him," goes se- 
 cretly around the circle in which he seeks to ingratiate 
 himself. " You can't rely upon his word," is whispered 
 
19 
 
 among men of business of whom he seeks employ, and 
 what more is needed to consummate his ruin ? All this, 
 because he made truth a convenience ! He saw not its 
 divinity. He paid it no heart-homage — he gave it no 
 sovereignty in his soul. He did not seek and obtain the 
 purity from which alone it can spring. He remained 
 corrupt, and could not be true. 
 
 But there is truth in this vile world for erring man. 
 Jesus said " I am the truth" — " My word is truth." — 
 What need of bondage then ? " If the truth shall make 
 you free, ye shall be free indeed." Reject Him who is 
 the embodiment of truth, and where then will the soul find 
 truth ? If He enter not into the instructions of the nursery 
 or of the academy — if he form no part of the daily aliment 
 dispensed to the hungry soul — if His will and holy word — 
 His gracious promises, and divine instruction, be rejected 
 in the training of the immortal mind, it is educated to be 
 the home of falsehood — the great truth-element is re- 
 jected, and the soul is a victim of the most ruinous fraud 
 ever practised upon earth. But God in education is the 
 spirit of truth, gently and powerfully pervading the soul of 
 the learner — inspiring it w T ith abhorrence of every species 
 of deception, and forming all its discriminations, its desires, 
 its inmost feelings upon the model of truth. I beseech 
 you, young men, " be valiant for the truth." Truth is 
 your security against the accusations of conscience — your 
 defence in the hour of trial — your sword to fight for the 
 cause of justice — your battle axe to hew down the foes 
 of God and man. Truth will shield you from the attacks 
 of calumny. It will make you bold, and firm, and strong, 
 in the defence of the right. It will make your very^ heart 
 the throne of Justice, and command for you the affections 
 of the good, the admiration of the evil, and the respect of 
 those who dread or hate you. If it were needful, I would 
 say, never vary a hair's breadth from the truth, to screen 
 
20 
 
 reputation, to avoid reproach, to enhance your treasures, 
 to gain applause, or to save your life ! No, gentlemen, 
 I repeat, die if you must, but preserve your soul untar- 
 nished. You will then be calm and triumphant amid the 
 scorn of the false, the threats of the powerful, and the 
 assaults of your murderers. You will answer the flatter- 
 ing smile and gilded temptations to bribery, with the scorn 
 and rebuke that will wither the contemptible hypocrite 
 who seeks to reduce you to a level with himself. 
 
 One other principle I must mention as indispensable 
 to a good character. Love must be the pervading, ruling 
 power of the soul that comprehends its mission here, and 
 fulfils its destiny hereafter. The malevolent action of 
 the human passions is certainly unnatural, and a sad evi- 
 dence of the fall. In the Creation of man, God must 
 have placed all his faculties and susceptibilities in perfect 
 harmony with each other. No provision was made for 
 anger, jealousy, envy, hatred, or revenge. Love reigned 
 sublimely over all the feeling and thinking man. Such 
 at least is the teaching of Holy Scripture — such inevita- 
 bly the a priori conclusion from the nature of God, for 
 " God is love." And this result derives ample comfirm- 
 ation from the convictions of right and wrong, rising up 
 out of the fundamental constitution of the soul. We look 
 on with instinctive disapprobation, upon all scenes of 
 malice and excited temper. We smile with approbation 
 upon every manifestation of love. We pronounce a man 
 who gives loose reigns to his passions, a bad man ; but 
 one who is controlled in all his movements by pure be- 
 nevolence, a good man — a man of good principles ; and 
 we cannot condemn, but, from the laws of our being, 
 must heartily approve, the Divine arrangements, finally to 
 separate the haters of God and man, from the company 
 of those whose souls are refined and exalted by the power 
 of love, and shut them up in hell. 
 
21 
 
 Without love as a principle then, your characters must 
 be sadly defective and deeply vicious. You are not des- 
 tined to move smoothly on unopposed in your principles 
 and policy, gratified in your inclinations, and pleased by 
 the conduct of others. Antagonisms to your views, and 
 resistance to your plans, will meet you in every enterprise. 
 Destitute of this Divine principle, you will be intolerant 
 of opinions which do not accord with your own, and be 
 pronounced a bigot. You will destroy the force of all 
 your demonstrations in favor of what you believe to be 
 right, by the ill grace and the bad temper with which you 
 will attempt them. You will not allay, as you are bound 
 to do, but stir up the bad passions of opponents. Instead 
 of the composure so essential to sound deliberation and 
 accurate judgment, there will be heat and angry passions 
 in your discussions. As a member of a family, as a 
 neighbor, as a citizen, there will be due from you a kind- 
 ly influence, that will sooth the afflicted, relieve the dis- 
 tressed, calm the passionate, and diffuse the sweetness of 
 sympathy, of good will, of genial love, through all the cir- 
 cles in which you move. Every where you will behold 
 the developement of passions and principles which you 
 cannot approve — corruptions in character and conduct, 
 which you are bound to abhor and resist to the utmost of 
 your capacity — vices which, so long as you live, you must 
 seek to eradicate by every means within your power. To 
 that which is false and injurious, you can give no quarters 
 under any conceivable circumstances. Your principles 
 of virtue and piety you can never compromise to please a 
 friend, or appease a foe. But to the unfortunate victims 
 of human passions — to the lowest and vilest of the race, 
 you will have errands of mercy, upon which love alone 
 will carry you. Your soul must be filled with a compas- 
 sion that will weep over the degraded, however ungrate- 
 
22 
 
 ful, or violent in resentment, for all your efforts to disen- 
 gage them from their vices, and save them from impend- 
 ing ruin. Let me impress it upon you, gentlemen, the 
 age in which you will live will be one of loudest, most 
 beseeching calls for pure philanthropy. Nations are 
 moved by rival interests to watch with jealousy, and crim- 
 inate each other. Angry passions wholly unfavorable to 
 calm discussion — actually forbidding the discovery of the 
 right, and menacing the liberties of the world, threaten 
 to rise higher and higher, amid the storms that are gath- 
 ering over us. It is an alarming fact, that there is little 
 disposition to make room for men of peace — that the ef- 
 forts of purest philanthropy to calm the angry elements, 
 and give prominence and power to the principles of love, 
 are met with chilling indifference, or stern defiance, or 
 ridiculed as puerile and weak, unworthy the dignity of a 
 gentleman, or of a nation. But what does all this de- 
 monstrate ? Surely nothing more, than that love is the 
 grand desideratum in this fallen w T orld — that the same 
 principles of hatred which crucified the Son of God, are 
 still active and mighty in this rebellious state, and that the 
 gravest deliberations of patriotism, the loftiest exertions 
 of statesmanship, are demanded in the direction of peace, 
 and that the reign of love, enthroned in the hearts of men 
 and of nations, constitutes the future hope of the race. 
 I would hold this object before the minds of students and 
 citizens, 1 until they are charmed, and awed, and controlled 
 by it, and every one who hears me shall say, I will start 
 at once upon a mission of love that will engage me for 
 life. My voice shall be heard above the roar of battle, 
 commanding peace. My mind and heart, my means and 
 labor, shall henceforth be an offering upon the altar of 
 " good will to men." 
 But whence is this hallowed principle of love ? Can 
 
23 
 
 it be resolved into being at pleasure ? Can it be assumed 
 at a wish, or inspired by a lesson of the passing hour ? 
 Surely it must be involved in the moral condition and 
 habits of the soul. It must be received in spiritual re- 
 generation ? It is not a child of earth. u Love is of God, 
 and every one that loveth is born of God, and kno weth God. 
 He that loveth not, knoweth not God ; for God is love." 
 What then must be thought of those systems of education 
 from which God is practically excluded ? Where no les- 
 sons of love are enstamped upon the soul— where no promi- 
 nence is given to the necessity for moral renovation — 
 where no kind words of admonition, lead the youth to see 
 the infinite wrong of hatred, and where it is no aim of 
 education to lead the mind of the future actor upon the 
 world's wide stage, to its baptism of love, in preparation for 
 the part assigned it? I answer, they are an unmitigated 
 evil. They are false to their professions — they " lead to 
 bewilder, and dazzle to blind." 
 
 It will thus appear why, for the acquisition of those 
 sound principles which are indispensable to a good charac- 
 ter, " I commend you to God and to the word of His 
 grace." For all that has been done towards their ac- 
 quisition, you are indebted to Him. For the maturity of 
 those principles, until they shall gain the entire ascendency 
 over your thoughts, aifections, purposes, and motives, you 
 must depend upon your intimacy with the infinite mind, 
 which is their only source. God in your education, alone 
 can render your principles secure. 
 
 The last element of a good character which we mention, 
 is strength. The labours, responsibilities, and difficulties 
 which await you will require strength. To you, I humbly 
 trust, this is not destined to be a life of indolent repose. 
 An idle man contradicts the teachings of his own consti- 
 tution. He treats with contempt the muscles of his arm, 
 
24 
 
 and abuses the struggling, restless power of his immortal 
 mind. He scorns the confidence, and spurns the entrea- 
 ties of humanity. He looks with shameless effrontery to 
 the wearied hands of the industrious, toiling millions, to 
 supply his hunger, and gratify the demands of his stupid 
 soul. You, at least, will work— otherwise we should be 
 obliged to you to mention as seldom as may be, the name 
 of your alma mater. Some of you may belong to the 
 class, called men of business, for which you will need a 
 vigorous body, and an energetic soul. The labors of 
 mechanism, the toils of agriculture, and the exigencies of 
 commerce, all demand ability. The feeble, however cor- 
 rect in purpose, and innocent in life, can never cope 
 with the stubborn antagonisms, and formidable rivalry 
 which business will call up. The power to execute, must 
 be as indispensable as the skill to contrive. The strength 
 of will, and energy of intellect, necessary to grapple with 
 circumstances, and force them into subservience to the 
 ends proposed, are fundamental conditions of success. 
 
 Still other responsibilities may be before you. Some 
 distinguished profession may demand your exertions. 
 Your choice, to "be safe, must be the result of far reaching 
 sagacity. It will involve an estimate of your own abili- 
 ties, your own genius, the state and wants of society, 
 the condition of the professions, and above all, the indi- 
 cations of Providence. And if, according to the will of 
 God, you shall have found the occupation which is best 
 adapted to the elevated aim you propose to yourselves, 
 you will need power to master its principles, to compre- 
 hend its spirit, and execute its mission. Responsibilities 
 involving the health and life, the legal and social rights, 
 the spiritual and eternal condition of thousands may press 
 upon you. You may need power to contend with deep 
 and stubborn physical diseases — power to convince a 
 
25 
 
 court, or move a jury — power to stimulate a dull spirit, 
 to guide an erratic genius, to bend a stubborn will, and 
 renovate a corrupt heart — power to rouse the slumbering 
 conscience, to wield with tremendous effect the sword of 
 the spirit, and rescue guilty thousands from the grasp of 
 the devil — power to enter the stagnant masses, and agitate 
 them till they shall bestir themselves and ask, in the 
 name of God, who, and what, and why they are? — power 
 to rush into the whirl of popular excitement, calm the 
 rage of passion, and teach the reason how to rule — power 
 to spread through all the social ranks the spirit of a genial 
 life, a healthy, safe, and vigorous progression — power to 
 grapple with sickness, with poverty, with injustice, and 
 adverse fortune. 
 
 And how is all this to be gained ? You have submit- 
 ted to all the drudgery of a college life, for the purpose 
 of strengthening your minds ; with some dim ideas of 
 future emergencies, that would demand strength. I trust 
 it has not been entirely without success ; but to aid you 
 in judging of the past, and forming plans for the future, 
 let me distinctly say, that a full and symmetrical devel- 
 opement of the whole man, is the one indispensable con- 
 dition of real strength, and true greatness. The mind 
 and the body are deeply implicated in each other. Phy- 
 sical health and strength, give decided advantage to the 
 spiritual powers which are destined to use them. But, 
 a man may be a Hercules in body, and an infant in mind. 
 It is, moreover, not uncommon for the most sprightly, 
 and promising talents, to be fettered and crippled forever, 
 by the feebleness of a diseased, or enervated body. Obe- 
 dience to the laws of health, is fundamental to the consti- 
 tution of a strong man. He who does violence to these 
 laws, by extravagant or improper diet, by the use of vile 
 narcotics, or pernicious drugs, is destined to find his 
 
26 
 
 strength giving way, when he leans upon k for some 
 achievement^ to him ; and perhaps to the world, of mo^ 
 mentous importance. There will come a day, w 7 hen every 
 abuse of animal life will have its retribution — a crisis, 
 when the crippled, defeated, and despairing soul, would 
 give a world for the physical power, destroyed by a few 
 moment's indulgence^— -a gratification unworthy an intel- 
 lectual being. The strength of mind too, may be ruined 
 by inequable developement. The great vice of education 
 is the neglect of the moral powers^ and the wilL It is a 
 singular fact that the schools, for some thousands of years, 
 should have been so nearly uniform, in their entire devotion 
 to the intellect, and neglect of the heart. What ruin to 
 the souls and the bodies of men, has resulted from the 
 want of balance to those energies which have been stimu- 
 lated to an unnatural degree, by the action of false sys- 
 tems. As well might the centrifugal force of the globe be 
 unbalanced by attraction, as the reason, roused and urged 
 on, it knows not whither, without a corresponding sense 
 of right, and power to enforce it. For examples of this 
 ruinous policy, contrast Byron and Burr, with Wesley and 
 Edwards. What but monstrous developements could be 
 expected, when God is excluded from education? He 
 alone is the source of goodness. His renovating grace 
 alone removes the fatal obstructions to moral growth. 
 His Holy spirit rouses the moral energies. The blood of 
 Christ is the life of the soul. The will, which is the 
 source of all active power, must learn to bend to legiti- 
 mate authority, before it can successfully oppose usurpa- 
 tion and tyranny. What hope is there then of making 
 strong men in our schools and colleges? It is propor- 
 tioned exactly to the presence and influence of Divinity 
 among them. 
 Thus, gentlemen, I have endeavored to place before 
 
27 
 
 you the principal elements of a good character, and point 
 you to their true and only source. In all your efforts to 
 establish for yourselves a correct aim — to acquire the 
 highest style of intelligence — to subject your minds to the 
 control of sound principles, and to accumulate the strength 
 which will give efficiency to your action, with the most 
 earnest sincerity, H I commend you to God and to the 
 word of his grace. 35 Confide in any other wisdom, trust 
 to any other power, and I know defeat and ruin await 
 you. 
 
 It may be thought that this view imposes hard and im- 
 practicable duties upon all concerned in education. I an- 
 swer, this depends entirely upon the frame of mind with 
 which the attempt is made. Worldly minds will act un- 
 der the influence of worldly motives. Under this control, 
 the end proposed by education as a public enterprise, 
 might be the personal honor of its patrons. The great- 
 est possible zeal may, for a time, result from an aim even 
 so low as this. Meetings may be called, animated 
 speeches delivered, liberal subscriptions made, enlarged 
 schemes adopted, all for the real purpose of reflecting 
 credit upon the founders of a University. Or the spirit 
 of rivalry may produce the exertion. To be excelled in 
 an effort of taste, or be behind others in public enterprise, 
 is unendurable. To accommodate these views, a well- 
 selected site, splendid buildings, costly apparatus, a dis- 
 tinguished Faculty, and considerable numbers on the cata- 
 logue, are all that can be essential. Hence these objects 
 engross the care, and absorb the zeal of trustees, officers, 
 patrons, and friends. They, not unfrequently, demand 
 resources that are beyond the reach of responsible agents, 
 set all principles of economy and fitness aside, and lead 
 to a course of ruinous and degrading profligacy ! In all 
 this, the inquiry will hardly be started, and never allowed 
 a commanding position in the enterprise, " what doth the 
 
28 
 
 Lord thy God require of thee V 9 What connection ha# 
 this labor with His spiritual and benevolent purposes ? Is 
 this the mode of expending our efforts and means, which 
 will best promote His glory ? Are the officers selected, 
 men of God, whose instructions and example will mould 
 the minds of youth for the labors of probation, the con- 
 quests of virtue, and the awards of piety ? All these are 
 questions which arise out of purer, loftier aims. No mod- 
 ification of selfishness can suggest them, or give them 
 place, or power, when they are thrust upon us from with- 
 out. Still they rise up from the profound constitution of 
 the soul, from the momentous revelations of the Bible, 
 and press upon us with the weight of eternity. Minds 
 divinely illuminated, can see that they are paramount to 
 all considerations of personal gratification, and popular 
 favour. Guided by divine wisdom, and moved by 
 divine power, the conceptions, and aims, and efforts of 
 philanthropy, may rise to this sublime moral elevation ; 
 and we allege that, whatever may be the drift of the 
 world, the Church is bound to assume this position, and 
 bend her mightiest energies to the grand purpose of se- 
 curing the reign of God in Education. 
 
 Teachers, and Faculties of every rank, have this vast 
 responsibility to meet. They can no more evade it than 
 they can annihilate the judgment day. What have we 
 contributed, to give countenance and strength to the im- 
 pression, that something will answer for the homage of 
 the heart, besides the adorable Creator — that some other 
 devotion of the immortal powers than to the glory of 
 God, will answer a valuable end — that true wisdom is 
 ever exclusive of that which cometh down from above — 
 that th e purity, truthfulness, benevolence, and strength 
 which belong to a noble and exalted character, must be 
 obtained somewhere else than at College, or by some 
 other means than those which belong properly to educa- 
 
 
29 
 
 f ion— that religion is a thing wholly distinct from learn- 
 ing, and enters in no way into the elements and laws of 
 scholastic developement ? What have we done, to give 
 potency to ideas so ruinous to immortal minds, entrusted 
 to our care ? is a question which will, at some time, press 
 itself upon us, with irresistible authority. It is much to 
 be feared, that it is the sad and general fault of our class, 
 to give principal rank to those studies and occupations, 
 which are really only incidental to the great purposes of 
 spiritual exertion — to take almost no pains to trace their 
 connection with the grand and ultimate design of the 
 Creator in constituting man an intelligent, living, respon- 
 sible being. Oh, when shall the immortality of the mind, 
 the true purpose of a brief probation, the inestimable 
 value of the deathless soul, and the unrivalled glories of 
 redemption, rise to their true position of commanding im- 
 portance, in the thoughts and feelings, the instructions 
 and prayers, of those to whom the temporal and eternal 
 destiny of our children and youth is entrusted ? We 
 may rest assured that until God in us, is a real, noticeable, 
 and perpetual fact, there can be no such thing, in its es- 
 sential meaning and power, as God in Education. To 
 the creation and maintainance of this sublime, and yet 
 only true standard, instructors have the highest possible 
 inducements. God, in the infinite dignity of His perfec- 
 tions, in the charm of His love, and in the grandeur of 
 His power — a living, abiding presence, in College halls, 
 imperceptibly awes and subdues all who are its inmates. 
 The silent majesty of His reign, imparts a new and elevat- 
 ing spirit to every thought and purpose of the student, 
 and clothes the employment and mission of the teacher 
 w T ith the dignity of eternity. 
 
 But to the young man himself, belongs much of the re- 
 sponsibility of this exalted standard. After all our exer- 
 tions — our most affectionate entreaties, our prayers and 
 
30 
 
 our tears, we may fail. Without your concurrence we 
 must, and shall fail. In this great question, God has made 
 you sovereign ! In disregard of all right, of all authority, 
 of all affection, human and divine, you may turn away 
 from the high duties, the ineffable glories with which we 
 seek to control your intellects and hearts, and choose for 
 yourselves the groveling aims, the trifling gratifications, 
 and the fearful doom of the rebel. Or you may compre- 
 hend the responsibilities of a deathless mind, the true spirit 
 and mission of a scholar, and secure to yourselves the 
 high, the spiritual, the eternal advantages of God in your 
 own education. As you will, so it shall be. 
 
 Of the rewards of this course, I have no time to speak. 
 The Apostle affirms, that God " is able to build you up and 
 give you an inheritance among all them that are sancti- 
 fied." Part of the sanctified are here — with these, you 
 shall have a reward — the inheritance of the faithful laborer^ 
 in an abundant harvest ; an ample reward in the elements 
 of a truly great character ; in the relief you will give to 
 the woes of humanity ; in the benign and purifying, and 
 elevating influence you will shed around you, in the death- 
 dealing blows you will strike at the heart of vice and hu- 
 man folly ; in the power with which you will urge forward 
 the spirit of reform, and promote the world's regenera- 
 tion ; and most of all, in the approbation of your master, 
 spoken to your inmost heart. This is the inheritance of 
 the sanctified on earth, and yours shall be with them. For 
 the rest, they are pilgrims and strangers here. If you 
 take your lot with them, be not surprised, if you have 
 many a wound in the house of your friends — if your name 
 is cast out as evil, your character traduced, your motives 
 questioned, and the kindest, noblest schemes of your be- 
 nevolent heart defeated, and trampled in the dust before 
 your eyes. Merely nominal christians may avoid all this. 
 But you have not chosen your inheritance with them. 
 
31 
 
 With the really sanctified you have selected your lot. 
 With them you shall toil, with them you shall suffer, and 
 with them you shall reign. 
 
 He will " give you an inheritance with all them that 
 are sanctified; 55 and but a small portion of them are here. 
 Far beyond the reach of suffering, of temptation and death, 
 in the world of light, they have their home, where, for 
 long years of cheerful, energetic toil, they have been lay- 
 ing up their treasure, where "the wicked cease from 
 troubling, and the weary are at rest." Amid the bright 
 celestial forms of angels and cherubim, the seraphic 
 melodies of the redeemed, and the wrapt visions of 
 God, they have their u inheritance," and yours shall be 
 with them. There is the reward of all earth's sufferings. 
 There the humblest spirit, washed " in the blood of the 
 Lamb,' 5 and the loftiest intellect that ever rose, and blazed, 
 and set, before the gaze of an astonished world, sanctified 
 by the same blood, shall live, and reign, and shout, together. 
 It is enough ! When the splendid schemes of human folly 
 shall have been swept away by the breath of time — when 
 the proud palaces and gorgeous temples of human ambi- 
 tion shall have crumbled to dust — when the fame of 
 earth's bloody heroes shall have been forgotten in the 
 rush of ages, and human glory shall have been buried 
 beneath the fallen fabric of the spheres, you shall have 
 your inheritance — the reward of a christian scholar, " with 
 all them that are sanctified. 55 
 
 Fellow citizens, and christian brethren : 
 
 Nearly four years have passed since you received into 
 your society an humble stranger. For all the kindness 
 you have seen fit to extend to him, for all the honor and 
 consideration you have conferred upon him, for all the 
 sympathy, in the trials of his peculiar position, you have 
 either felt, or expressed, it is his pleasing duty now to tender 
 
3§ 
 
 >ou his hearty thanks. However feebly, and unworthily 
 he may have performed the duties of a citizen, he has, 
 nevertheless^, felt himself to be one of your number. He 
 has not regarded himself as a mere College officer. He 
 has felt that, as a member of a highly intelligent and res- 
 ponsible community, he had duties to perform that he 
 could neither neglect, nor trust to the fidelity of Others. It 
 is not, therefore, matter of surprise, that in yielding to the 
 mandate of Providence, and separating, as he is about to do, 
 from his neighbors and friends, with many of whom he has 
 stood shoulder to shoulder in fighting the battles of re- 
 form, and with many of whom he has bowed, and wept, 
 and prayed, he should feel emotions too great for utter- 
 ance. My mission, brethren, has been brief among 
 you, but I verily believe it has been heaven-appointed. 
 ■Clearly as I see the light of the meridian sun, I see that 
 God has sent me here. My account and yours, in our 
 relations to each other, to this community, to the College, 
 and to God, have gone to the judgment. Let us prepare 
 to meet them. Permit me to utter one parting word in 
 behalf of my successor, and of the beloved young men I 
 shall leave behind. You have more power to relieve his 
 embarrassments, and to promote his success, or to obstruct 
 his progress, and defeat his mission, than you are aware of. 
 The hint, at this point, is all that becomes me. I beg 
 that it may not be in vain. I deeply feel, and you must 
 allow me to express it, that the members of this commu- 
 nity are not half awake to the tremendous interest which 
 they are bound to take, in the existence of a College 
 in their midst. If the virtuous part of the town had 
 been fully alive to the influence which they were re- 
 quired by sacred duty to exert over the young men of 
 the College — if you had realized that you owed it to 
 these sons of absent mothers and fathers, some of whom 
 are already in the spirit-land, to break down, and 
 
33 
 
 banish from your town, those haunts of dissipation 
 and vice, which have been tolerated by stupidity, or up- 
 held by the arm of popular power, many a heart, riven 
 with anguish, might have remained whole to this day. I 
 cannot resist. the conviction, that many a College student 
 has passed away from our borough, whom citizens who 
 hear me this day, and others who do not, may, with 
 good reason, fear to meet at the judgment. I leave these 
 young men in your midst, with a father's solicitude, and 
 a father's blessing. I charge you, as you shall give ac- 
 count at the bar of God, be faithful to their souls. Bear 
 yourselves towards them in kindness and love, as you 
 w r ould wish a christian people to do towards your own 
 dear sons, in a land of strangers, far from the restraints 
 and endearments of home. 
 
 In the fullness of my heart, "I commend you to 
 God,' 3 
 
 Respected Colleagues : 
 
 Four years experience has taught me fo appreciate 
 the difficulties and responsibilities of your position. We 
 have labored together, in what may well be regarded as a 
 transition period of our beloved College. We had seen 
 the great and the strong, bow themselves in death, and 
 were summoned to stand in their place. We have seen 
 our colleagues, who were the hope of the old and tried 
 friends of the Institution, the pillars of public confidence, 
 and upon whom we were accustomed to depend for coun- 
 sel and support, depart, one after another, to meet res- 
 ponsibilities, to which they were providentially called. 
 Under all these circumstances, have we not cause of grati- 
 tude to Almighty God, for the manner in which we have 
 been sustained ? With humble reference to His blessing, 
 we may justly claim that the last four, have been years of 
 progress, in many important respects. We have gradual 
 ted a larger number, than in any previous four consecutive 
 
34 
 
 years, since Dickinson became a Methodist College. We" 
 have seen the Board, the Conferences, and the Church 
 thoroughly roused to the necessity of an adequate endow- 
 ment, and entering spiritedly upon the execution of a 
 plan, which promises to construct a permanent basis for 
 the financial prosperity of the College. We have seen 
 general order, and mutual confidence rising, and advanc- 
 ing, until it maybe doubted whether, in this respect, the 
 year, about to close, can be easily paralleled in the history 
 of this, or any other College. We have seen the convic- 
 tion that Dickinson should be, and must be, a tho- 
 roughly religious Institution, deepening and extending 
 through the Church, in all directions. We have seen 
 many of our beloved students bowing in penitence, at the 
 altars of prayer, turning from darkness to light, arid grow- 
 ing up in all the elements of a sound religious character. 
 In all this we have but approximated the grand idea which 
 projected the enterprise ; and sustained;, and urged for- 
 ward the action so nobly commenced by our worthy pre- 
 decessors. It is my greatest regret, in leaving you, that 
 I have not done more, personally, to promote these glorious 
 results, and that I shall no longer have the advantages of 
 the high position I have occupied, to co-operate with you 
 in their further prosecution. I know the burdens you 
 are yet to bear, the trials of strength, and courage, and 
 faith, which await you ; and, in my heart, I sympathize 
 with you. But^ I also foresee the triumphs which, if 
 faithful to your sacred trust, you are destined to realize. 
 I should like to share both your battles and your victories. 
 But the same Providence which, as I believe, called me 
 here, now orders me away ; and the glory of your fu-^ 
 ture will be shared by another, and, as I sincerely hope, 
 a worthier head. To charge you, in relation to the re- 
 sponsibilities you must bear, and the one only condition 
 of your success, would illy become me at this, or any 
 other hour. You know my views : you know that my 
 
35 
 
 heart has been set upon a decided elevation of the reli- 
 gious standard of the College, and upon the ascendency 
 of the moral element in the government ; and, at this 
 parting, I may innocently express the hope, that in avoid- 
 ing my errors, you will not find this ruling idea among 
 them. With sincere assurances of my best wishes, and 
 most fervent prayers, dear brethren, " I commend you to 
 God and to the word of his grace. " 
 
 Beloved Students : 
 
 As I gaze upon the countenances which have been so 
 long familiar to me, and feel, that the hour of parting is 
 at hand, a rush of emotion well nigh overwhelms me. I 
 think of. the mingled fear and hope, with which many of 
 you first entered my room, to make your introduction to 
 college life — not knowing whether you were to meet a look 
 of cold indifference, of stern authority, or of affectionate 
 sympathy — whether you were to be treated as strangers 
 and dependants, or as sons, and gentlemen. I feel that I 
 have been made better by your acquaintance, and honor- 
 ed by your friendship. In all the shifting incidents of 
 College, you have convinced me of general upright inten- 
 tions, and a high susceptibility of the purer and nobler 
 sentiments of the heart. By careful and tender exami- 
 nation, beneath the depravities and sins of the most 
 reckless and unfortunate, I have never failed to discover 
 some trait of character which commanded my respect and 
 love, and furnished some ground of hope for the future. 
 That some have been near, quite too near, the door of 
 danger and ruin, I may not, cannot deny. That all have 
 need of caution, of fervent prayer to Almighty God, for 
 protection and guidance, is certain ; and I deeply regret 
 my want of fidelity and skill in conducting you away from 
 danger, to the high road of duty, of honor, and safety. 
 But God is my witness, how devotedly I have loved you, 
 how tenderly I have felt for you, when you have suffered, 
 and how earnestly and constantly I have prayed for you. 
 
36 
 
 In this address, directed especially to the senior class, 
 but in some respects appropriate to you all, 1 have made 
 one more honest effort (it will be the last) to elevate your 
 aims, to stimulate your virtue, and attract you to the 
 sphere of conflict, and triumph, and glory, which alone, I 
 think, to be worthy of you. Add it, gentlemen, to what 
 you have heard from me at other times, and under other 
 circumstances, which you have considered worth remem- 
 bering, as the counsel of a friend. You aspire to honor- 
 able distinction. I have pointed you to the field in 
 which you may sacrifice and suffer in the cause of truth 
 and justice. You long to be heroes in the life-battle 
 which awaits you ; I have pointed you to the heroism of 
 a Divine aim, amid the grovelings of sin- — of studies which 
 array the events of time in the vestments of eternity — to 
 the heroism of purity in a world of corruption, of truth 
 in a world of falsehood, of love in a world of hate, and of 
 moral power, amid the weakness and decay of all that is 
 physical, and all that is human. In this field it becomes 
 you to be heroes. The world, the Church, and God, re- 
 quire it. Whenever a report from you reaches my ear, 
 let it be that you are fighting, like men, for God and 
 truth ; and then I have no fears for the end. Whenever, 
 wherever, you fall, it will be in full view of a glorious re- 
 surrection, and the final " inheritance among all them 
 that are sanctified." 
 
 From my heart, I thank you, for your respectful con- 
 sideration, and may I not say, filial regard. A thousand 
 instances of affectionate kindness, will live in my memory 
 while memory endures. In all the devotion of a father's 
 love, permit me to " commend you to God and to the 
 word of his grace, which is able to build you up and give 
 you an inheritance among all them that are sanctified." 
 Remember it as my last, and farewell declaration; it 
 
 is God in science that gives truth and power to the motto, 
 
 " suos cultores scintia coronat." 
 
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