THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA THE COLLECTION OF NORTH CAROLINIANA ENDOWED BY JOHN SPRUNT HILL CLASS OF 1889 C378 UK3 18UUI UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 00036721002 This book musf not be taken from the Library building. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://www.archive.org/details/introductoryaddrOOives THE INTRODUCTORY ADDRF^SS or THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF THE op ITOETH aAKOLIlTA, DELIVERED IN TflE UNIVERSITY CHAPEL, JUNE 5TH, 1S44, BY Bisliop of the Dioeese of North Carolina. RALEIGH: Printed by T Lering-^ Indepefident Office, Hillsboro' St. between McDowell (^ Dawson Streeii, 1844* CORRESPONDENCE. To the Rt. Rev. L. Sillivian Ives, D. D., L. L. D., Bishop of the Diocese of North Carolina: Dear Sir : I have the honor of transmitting to you the following Resolution of the Historical Society of the University of North Caro- lina : *^ Resolved, That the thanks of this Society be tendered to the Rt, Rev. Bishop Ives, for his able and interesting address ; and that he be requested to furnish a copy of it for publication." Permit me to hope, sir, that you will find it both convenient and a- greeable to comply with this request ; that the pleasure and profit we have enjoyed may be diffused. With great respect, CHARLES PHILIPS, Secretary of the Society. Chapel Hill, June 6th, 1844. To Charles Philips, Esq., Secretary of the Historical Society, 6fc : Dear Sir : Please communicate to the Historical Society of North Carolina, my acknowledgment of their too flattering resolution, and my compliance with the request it makes for a copy of my address, for publication. With earnest desires for the success of the important objects of the Society, and sentiments of high respect for its members, I remain, dear sir, Most truly, Your friend and eerv't, L, S, IVEa ehapd Hill, June 1th, 1844, BISHOP IVES INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS : Delivered before the Historical Society of the University of North Carolina, June 5, 1844. liENTLEMEN OF THE HiSTOniCAL SOCIETY OF THE University of North Carolina : In attempting to lulfil your wishes, to day, I find, somewhat to my alarm, that your favor has assigned me a place not more of honor than difficulty. A difficulty growing out, in some measure, of the vast and infinitely perplexed subject, I have consented, perhaps rashly, to dis- cuss. The limited lime usually and properly allotted to such an ad- dress, while it may enable me to exhaust your patience and my own resources, is miserably insufficient for satisfying in any reasonable de- gree, the claims of such an audience and such a subject. In making this remark, however, it is not in my mind, that, on this occasion of the opening of our Society, you are to expect of me more than simply to lay before you the scope and importance of its objects, and suggest some hints how ;they may best be pursued. Even with this limit in view, I feel the perplexing extent of the task before me. — And this feeling you will at once appreciate when you perceive, that my duty leads me to a consideration of the philosophy rather than the facts of history ; and must necessarily embrace a wider range of ob- servation than could possibly be opened by the events, however varied or significant, of a single State or period. The husbandman, who would realize a harvest at all adequate to his labors, must not only plant the ■seed produced by a former year, but also cultivate with the skill gath- ered fiotn former experience. So in the investigations of history, our 4. efforts, to lead to any tolerable success, must be so linked with those of the preceding generations of inca as to ensure a perfect exemplifica- tion of every point, individual or social, moral, intellectual, or political, which we design to make practical, or permanently useful to ourselves and others. Besides, it is not so much the mere events of past time that we need, as it is the agency by which they were respectively brought to their issue. In constructing, after some ancient model, a fitting temple to liberty, it would help us little in our work merely to collect together the ruins of the most beautiful structures that ever adorned classic ground. To effect our purpose, we must study, and compare, and adjust these remains of the olden time ; and moreover call to our aid in restoring what is lost, an accurate knowledge of the sci- ence under which they first arose to beauty and perfection. It is true, that in researches limited to our own State ; in simply tra- cing out the causes, which, under human agency and human responsi- bility, have steadily tended, since the first white man set his foot upon our shores, to the encouraging result, that, on this day, is so gratifying to all our hearts ; there would be much to entertain us, much to im- prove. But to do this effectually ; to travers, with proper success, the narrow field here lying before us, we must consent to the laborious process of coming to our work, through the long and intricate and mul- tiform windings, opened in the annals of other States and by-gone times; of forming our conclusions and making due, self application of them, after having, with the spirit of true philosophy, viewed man, in all the depths of his complex and wonderful being ; in all the varied shapes into which by the hand of providence he has been cast; "all the dif- ferent scenes in which he has been called to act or suffer ;" all the countless struggles, mental, moral and physical, in which he has been made to bear a part ; all the defeats that have covered him with shame, all the successes that have crowned him with honor; with all the vast agencies, that have united to help him on to victory, or conspired to thwart, and humble and destroy him. But in reaching this far ofl'goal, penetrating to this ultima thule of historical research; we are not to suppose the way either dreary or barren of good. Scenes of the most thrilling interest will open upon us at every step ; and while, at times, their disclosures may sadden our hearts and leave us with a mortified and chastened spirit, they will not fail in the end, if wc are at all faith- fill to uuischcs, ill }icl(litig tlic brightest aiu! niosl siibstaiiti;ii leuards. This will appear, as we pass onwards in tlic cxaiiiiiiaLion of sonic ol the steps and results of our allotted course. The better, liowcver, to ensure its recompense, we must, at the outset, admit, as axioms, certain great fundamental principles ; such as will, if we arc earnest and tho- rough in our enquiries, be inevitably wrought out, by the events of history itself, before our eyes, and forced upon our recognition : — viz, (1) that one Supreme God is the author and moral governor of the Avorld ; (2) that while the understanding, the reason, and the imagina- tion of man, may contribute largely to the proper results ot his being, the ii;z7Z, after all, is the ruling element in his character and destiny, whether he be taken alone, or in connection with his fellow man ; (3) that his will then, and only then, leads to the end for which he was created, when it moves in exact harmony w^ilh the will of his Maker; (4) that owing to an early resistance of this, his own became, if we may so speak, divided into two antagonist elements ; the one tending strong- ly to the earthly and sensual, the other feebly to the heavenly and di- vine. In respect to the first of these principles, little illustration is needed. The mind, even imperfectly acquainted with the anricnt clas- sics, must perceive that the foundation of this principle is as broad as the race of man ; that upon the polity and customs of heathen nations, east, west, north and south, civilized or barbarian, its truth was inscrib- ed in the most luminous characters ; that it controlled the movements of wandering tribes, while it overawed the counsels of Senates and determined the issues of battles ; that it was proclaimed from Dodona, Delphi, and Ammon ; inscribed on the temple of Sais — sung in the Ek Dios arkoviethaoi Aratus — told in the story of Simonidcs — seen in the To agatlwn, and ihe Proton Altion* of the Greeks — and enforced by the ethics and eloquence of Rome. Nothing, indeed, could be clear- er than the proof, that while the Gentile nations "did not like to retain God in their knowledge, nor glorify him as God ;" they still had, uni- versally, from some source, an impression of " his eternal power and God Head," and w'idcly incoi'porated the truth into their schemes and instruments of government. As regards the second principle perhaps, there may seem, at fust, more doubt. Still to the careful reader of *For •want oI'Grcck Type, ihcsc scnicncc^ are of neccstiiy pin in ihcir p^':.•^cnt form. 6. history — the thouglitful observer of men — such doubt will be but mo- mentary. Whoever lakes the trouble to examine this principle in the strong light cast upon it from the luminous mind of a late German phi- losopher,* can hardly fail to be at once satisfied of its eminent truth. In illustration, I would observe, the intellectual system of ancient Chi- na, — although strongly characterized by reason — instinct with the pure spirit, the exalted genius of a Confucius, — still liad no power within it of self-perpetuation — no power either to help its votaries to substantial peace, or to uphold its own existence against the silent in- roads of a senseless, neighboring superstition. While the intellectual char^icter of India, — formed by and reflecting the rays of a glowing iviagination — an imagination brilliant and burning, as if literally set on fire by its own torrid sun, breaking out, on the one hand, in a wild and rampant mysticism, and on the other in poetic strains, not falling, in their Epic richness and fullness, much below the numbers of the Maeonean bard, — has nevertheless been able to do nothing more for that devoted people than to guide them to the most horrid depths of moral degradation and misery. While again, the Egyptian system, with its base, and indeed superstructure, in the understanding ; an under- vStanding, "penetrating, as by a kind of magic power." into the deep mysteries of nature, and embracing in its span the utmost limits of sci- ence — was yet forced to yield, notwithstanding its Jewish prop, to the destroyer ; — leaving only its pyramids towering in melancholy gran- deur above the memorials of a grovelling and beastly superstition ; as if to proclaim to the world, how high the understanding may soar with- out profit to man, if the will be in subserviency to the sensual and im- pulsive nature. And here comes in the system of Judea, whose char- acteristic element is manifestly that high moral faculty, the will. This system, noiseless in its working — gently bending its followers in sub- mission to an invisible power — hardly attracting from surrounding na- tions sufficient notice to be despised ; has — after all the symptoms of its inward and outward decrepitude, all its trials and sufferings in "flood and field" in defeat, desertion and captivity — faithfully preserved its being, distinct from every opposing or insinuating influence; and, at length, expanding into the nobler faith, the larger charity, the better hopp "f the gospel, haij become, ^vhcrcvcr known, 'he only sure and ack- -Ficdori'.'k Von, Sclilcs:*'! nowledged basis, as well of national as of individual prosperity. In re- gard to the third principle, no diflicuky can exist in a mind, convinceil of the perfection and providence of Almighty God. And if there could, the events of history have upon them two mnch light from above, to suffer it long to remain. In this it is clearly seen, (1) that the will ot God is in exact agreement with the happiness of man. That his laws and institutions and promises and threats, together tend to the best good of our race. So that, if the proper end of man's being be the pursuit of happiness ; that pursuit to be successful, must be conducted by a will in harmony with that of his Maker. It is seen also (2) and with equal clearness, that the resistance of God's will, in the case ei- ther of individuals or nations, must lead to inevitable misery ; and hence if knowingly made, is an act of deliberate self destruction. The whole history of folly and crime, as well as the experience of every criminal might be adduced in proof of the point. The Jewish nation of old, and the French nation now, too awfully attest its truth. While the careers and ends, respectively of Herod and Pilate, of Julian and Napoleon bear the some witness. To dwell for a moment upon the last ; what can be clearer than the interference of an invisible hand to hedge up the way to universal dominion, of the mighty hero of France? " Napoleon in November 1799 " says a late, lamented writer,* " was made first Consul ; he found France humbled by defeats, his Italian conquests lost, his allies invaded, his own frontier threatened. He took the field in the May following, and in one month, the whole for- tune of the war was changed, and Austria driven out of Lombardy by the victory of Marengo. Still the flood of the tide rose higher and higher, and every successive wave of its advance swept away a king- dom. Earthly state has never reached a prouder pinnacle than when Napoleon, in June 1812, gathered his army at Dresden — that mighty host, unequalled in all time — and received the homage of subject Kings.'' And now, what was the principal adversary of this tremendous pow- er ? By whom was it checked and resisted, and put down ? By none, and by nothing, but the direct and manifest interposition of God. I know of no language so well fitted to describe that victorious advance to Moscow, and the utter humiliation of the retreat, as the language of *Dr, ArnoJd. ' *. ■ ' '■ i-]ie Prophet with respect to the advance and subsequent destruction of the Host of Seunacherib, " Wlien they arose early in the morning, beliold they were all dead corpses," applies almost literally to the mem- orable night ef frost in which 20,000 horses perished, and the strength of the French army was utterly broken. Human instruments no doubt, were employed in the remainder of the work ; nor would I deny to Germany and to Prussia the glories of the year 1813, nor to England the honor of her victories in Spain, or of the crowning victory of Water- loo. But at the distance of thirty years, those who lived in the time of danger and remember its magnitude and now calmly review what there was in human strength to avert it, must acknowledge, I think, beyond all controversy, that the deliverance of Europe, if not of this country, was effected neither by Russia, nor by Germany, nor by En- gland, but by the hand of God alone. Place Napoleon at the side of the great Theodosius. Napoleon at the height of his fame in 1812. Theodosius at his triumphant return after the carnage at Thesselonica. Both unsurpassed in military en- dowments, stand crowned with victories and stained with cruelty and blood. What should keep them from a similar destiny ? Why should the one, baffled and humbled and overthrown, pass from the view of men as a dreaded enemy to their best good ? While of the other it is written even by an infidel hand, that his character and end " might almost excuse the extravagant supposition of the Orator Pacatus — that if the elder Brutus could be permitted to revisit the earth, the stern republican would abjure at the feet of Theodosius his hatred of Kings ; and ingenuously confess that such a monarch was the most faithful guardian of the happiness and dignity of the Roman people ,!"'* Why is this ? Who that looks narrowly into the respective tempers, and the actuating principles of these men can for a moment doubt? Who can doubt that beholds the Emperor of France, proud and insolent un- der his successes — trampling equally upon the rights of men and the church of God — and in his madness actually and impiously, as if ia defiance of the decrees of heaven, erecting, before his march to Russia, a monument to himself as the conqueror of that country.! While on the other hand, he sees the good Emperor of Rome, whose virtues, it *Gibbon Decline and Pall &c. Chap, xxvii. t The monument is standing at Cobbeniz on the Rhine, 9. is said, expanded witlihis fortune, receiving with meekness the rebuke, for his severity, of the Godly St. Ambrose, and submitting with a gentle contrite spirit, to the self-humbling acts of penitence, which, in the name of God and for the honor of his church, that holy man dared to impose upon the monarch, even amid the exhilaration of his victories. The fourth principle, viz : — that by an early resistance of God's will, discord was introduced into the will of man, so that now, "there is a law in his members warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin and death" — is the one most frequently and injuriously overlooked in treating of the philosophy of history, as it is in plans based upon such philosophy, for the improvement of our race. The notion of human -perfectibility, however loudly repudiated by christian statesmen, has somehow, notwithstanding, more or less insin- uated itself into and thus neutralized all their systems of philanthropy. And this w^ould be not a little wonderful, even had men no eyes to dis- tinguish the developments of history ; when we reflect, that they have the faculty of self-consciousness. As the struggle, which every virtu- ous mind perceives within, between the spiritual and sensual nature ; and the inevitable triumph of the latter, except it be resisted by more than human power, ought to be enough, one would think, to put to flight every scheme for the moral renovation of men not founded upon a higher principle than is involved merely in their own natural capa- bilities. But while this, both from inward consciousness and outward development, is found to be in the broadest sense true, still it should not be forgotten that the faculties of man's soul, as contradistinguished from the more impulsive faculties of the body, are, when under proper discipline, especially favorable to the subjugation of his will to that of God. Of this, we have a striking illustration in the comparative eflects of the ancient philosophy. Dr. Neander, in his church history, particularly that part of it wherein he points out the elements favorable to Christianity in the " Religious and philosophical systems of antiqui- ty," exhibits these effects in strong and affecting contrast. One fact is remarkable, that while many Platonists became converts to the faith of the Gospel, no record is left of the conversion of a single Epicurean. Hence the grand enemy to our individual, or social happiness, is seen to be the sensual nature of man — impelling his will so strongly in a direction opposite to the dictates of God's will, as to become an over- 10. match for every power, short of the irresistible power provided' for our relief in the Gospel; thus proclaiming beforehand, the ultimate and inevitable failure of all schemes for the permanent v;ell-being oF individuals or States, not based upon Gospel principles and sustained by the Gospel spirit. Thus have I endeavored to give you a distinct notion of the charac- ter, and a clear perception of the truth of tlic four cardinal principles, upon which, in my view, all our efforts must proceed in order to ar- rive at any just appreciation of the events and lessons of history. 1. You will thence perceive, as we go on in our work, hoAv very far our investigations must extend beyond the details of ordinary histori- cal productions. We search for truth ; and truth in its essential, cath- olic sense. But this is not to be found on the surface of society — in those facts which usually obtrude themselves first upon one notice, and engross most of our attention. It must be sought in the heart of the social system — in the deep breathings — the moral pulsations of the mass of men. It is somewhere said, and well said, that "a history, in which every particular incident is true, may on the whole be fake.'' And because, those circumstances which have most influence on the happiness of mankind — the changes of manners and morals, the tran- sition of communities from poverty to wealth, from knowledge to ig- norance, from ferocity to humanity — these for the most part, are noise- less revolutions. Their progress is rarely indicated by what historians are pleased to call important events. They are not achieved by armies, nor enacted by Senates. They are sanctioned by no treaties, and re- corded in no archives. They are carried on in every school, in every church, behind ten thousand counters, at ten thousand tiresides. In- deed the upper current of society presents no certain criterion by which we can judge of the direction in which the under current flows. We read of defeats and victories. But we know that nations may be mis- erable amidst victories, and prosperous amidst defeats. We read of the fall of wise ministers, and of the rise of profligate favorites. But we must remember how small a proportion the good or evil efl^ected by a single statesman can bear to the good or evil of a great social sys- tem." Hence we see at once how scanty are the materials — materials In most cases, carelessly raked together from the mere surface of com- aiunities — wdiich are furnished for philosophical inquiry in the histo- 11. I'ics of citiicr ancieiil or modern tiiiics. lliitoriaiif^ for the uiosl pari ,sccm to rest satisfied, if ihcy can but succeed in entertaining their read- ers V !;h a few of tlic more striking features of an age ; while the se- cret ties which have linked it with otlicr ages and "with the destiny of man, remain effectually concealed. It is certainly not to their credit tliat, for an acquaintance with the moral form and complexion of a pe- riod, we are mainly indebted to the writers of novels and the drama ; tliat, as some one has said, " we have to look for the wars and votes of the Puritans in Clarendon and for their phraseology in Old Morali- ty — for one half of King James in Hume, and for the other in the for- tunes of Nigel." Were I called upon however, to name one, who, a- mong the multitude of professed historians, seems to have had more than any other, a just conception of the true objects of history, I would name Sir Walter Raleigh ; a writer whose character may in some sort be viewed as the property of our State, and a knowledge of whose works should be considered, by every one of its sons, as an indispensa- ble pre-requisite to the study of its history. 2, Our next discovery, if we are guided by the principles here laid down; will be, the biased and often uncharitable judgments of histori- ans. Judgments formed at one time, by superficial, and, again, by in- terested views of systems and events. We shall find such systems and events not examined patiently and thoroughly in the light of their own age, and judged of in a spirit of manly charity, with reference to their own peculiar advantages or disadvantages ; but subjected, in a temper of narrow, self-conceit, to the false test of the writer's own time and sect. In this way, the good have been made to share in the condem- nation of the bad ; systems to bear the reproach which belongs to pe- riods ; individuals to answer for the blood shed through the intolerance of an age. Hence the "schoolmen," notwithstanding their arduous, and enduring, and glorious achievements, have been cruelly consigned to the execration brought upon the middle ages by the corrupt ambi- tion of civil and ecclesiastical rulers. A Thomas Aquinas made to suf- fer for the sins of an unscrupulous Boniface. Hence too intolerance js written "foul" and "bloody" under the sceptre of Mary, but "just and stainless" under the despotic and relentless parliament of Charles, And in turning fo tlic historical f^kctclic? of our f)wn Slafc. we find 12. from tlic same cause, tliat every attempt falls too far short of the whole truth, to leave any other than a false impression in the reader's mind- The writers may have been good and learned men. But so long as they were men, there is enough in our civil and religious state, with- out assailing their personal motives to account for the partiality and hence unfairness of their statements. Imbued, as we all are, with strong- political and religious biases, nothing short of super human vigilance, in our researches, can shiold us entirely from error. In regard to the period of the "Proprietary government," a writer may state nothing but what, is, in itself, strictly true — may make no reflection upon the op- pressive acts of the " Church and State," not fully borne out by chris- tian principle ; still, if he fails to exhibit, and with the same strength of coloring, the conduct of the oppressed party, the moment they had the power to become the oppressors ; if he places before us in strong, and not untrue relief, the sufferings of baptists and quakers inflicted by churchmen, but keeps back the cruel persecutions from those very sects to which the church-missionaries* were for a scries of years exposed ; he is no longer to be viewed as a historian of the State but ef a party. He fails to tell the v/hole truth — to furnish that information, without which, no just estimate can be formed of the events of our his- tory. The difficulty here, you perceive, arises not from the obscurity of historical facts ; but from the selfishness of human nature — an in- born tendency in man to make that true, which he wishes to be true ; hence demanding in the historian the very highest degree of self-dis- cipline. This necessity too is not a little enhanced, in our day, by the prevailing habits of literary dishonesty. We bitterly complain of the " pious frauds " of Jesuitism practised upon the historical literature of the 16th and 17th centuries. And they are bad enough it is true. But what can surpass the fraudulent practices of " the Press " in our own time ? Who, now-adays, expects, on opening one of our periodicals, to get " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," where there can be the slightest motive to misrepresent ? This evil is terri- ble in its influence both upon the individuals who help to foster it, and upon the moral sense of the community where it prevails. It tends, * Whoever would have an adequate notion of the sufferings and hardships of these missionaries must consult the reports of the venerable Society for thf. PROrACATION or THE GoSPEL IN FOREIGN PARTS. 13. Ill sonic sort, to legalize imposture ; and even to betray good men, in- sensibly perhaps, into the suppression or overstatement of truth, to sub- serve a favorite notion, or a nnich-desircd end. In all questions of ii polemic character, this is eminently true. And many such must inev- itably arise in examining the early liistory of our State. The tempta- tion of historians will be to take sides; to make up their minds respec- tively that they are right — that the facts of history must speak in their favor — and then proceed to act confidently upon the supposition that they do. It will be well for them, if, like the Lydian King they be not fatally betrayed by the voice of their own oracle. The only efl'ec- tual counterpoise to this party bias, will be found in a well-digested exhibition, by the joint-labors of the members of our Society, of all the facts and principles of action, so far as they can be ascertained, which enter into the history of our State up to the beginning of the present century. The advantage of such a work by this Society will be at once obvious. The concentration of knowledge thus secured, as well as a fair representation of all parties concerned, must be enough, with every mind, to give it paramount importance. 3. An investigation into our early history, however, nnist not only be conducted in a spirit of christian philosophy, but it must be labori- ous and thorough ; or it may tend to aggravate the very evils, which it might otherwise correct — tend to keep up among us the existing pop- ular delusions ; rather than sliow us our true state, show us exactly where we stand, in reference to these great principles which actuated our fathers in the trying, but glorious events of the American revolu- tion. That, by som.e influence, we have been insensibly borne ofl'from these principles, is to the reflecting man but too apparent. In the plain facts of our history, we shall discern, I think, two causes tliat have been especially active in producing this result. Both of which may be traced to the circumstances that attended the achievement of our nation- al independence. (1.) This was effected not by peaceful ncgociation, but by conflict and blood. Not in the quietlialls oi Senates, but in the fierce storms of the battle-field. The circumstance has left, I fear, its indelible impress upon the nation ; at least, it is still acting powerfully upon the ardent minds of our young men. Their^eye is manifestly fixed, rather upon the sanguinary struggle of our fathers, tlian the ble?- ■'ings of peace which it achieved — ui>on lcs uhich nerved tlie uphftcil arm. The proof may be had in their political harangues — eA incing more of the fiery temper of the soldier on the eve of battle, than the diise tho lieallhy, tlie Jinpjfy I)ut well-earned coni- petencc of our Ibrefalhers ; and to look (or broader fields and larger re- sults and more speedy accmnulation, to meet the enormous and ever encrcasing demands of artificial want. Or what is not less pregnant with evil, their thirst for consequence lifting them above the honest, the unpretending pursuits of agricultural life, is sending them in crowds fit or unfit, to the professions of law and medicine;, already, to say the least, sufficiently full. If tliese evils continue to increase for the next twenty years, as they have encreased for the last, we may tremble for the efiect upon the integrity of our people. Our farming interests will become subordinate. Tho example of the higher classes cease to impress at all, or iavorably, the bulk of the people. Sympathy between the poor and the rich be destroyed — desires for wealth, or, what fiows from it, luxury and ostentation, become too inordinate to be gratified by honest means. And then, as all history shows, we may relinquisli our meed of praise, and inscribe "Ichabod" upon the fading tablets of our country, — for " our glory will depart." But, in this bewildering chase of the things that perish, another and a heavier and more person- al loss is to be sustained. Man is the only reality on the theatre of this transient life. And he is only real, because he is immortal ; has a nature encompassing the vast, the solemn interests of an unending life to come. That nature is to be the great loser in these awful ventures for mere earthly consequence. Its high destiny is lost sight of — its momentouc rights sacrificed at this debasing shrine. If " they that will be rich flill into temptation and a snare and into many and hurtful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition," O what must be the end, of the generation now living in our midst, absorbed as it seems in the thoughts and acquisitions of earth ! It is true, the civil re- cords of the past can shed little or no light upon the destinies beyond the slumbering dead. The most they can do, is to reveal here and there a hint to direct the path-way of the present. But there are other records whose sacred pages throw a purer, a diviner, and more cer- tain radiance upon the issues of the unseen world before us. Let us open these sacred records and mark and walk by them ; for O, there are other records still, and they will unfold to an assembled universe, "the deeds done in the body ;" the grounds upon whicli will proceed tho awards of an eternal Judgment. Gentlemen of tlie Society : you see the wide extent ; the serious character of our labors. That while they have to do Willi the indus- trious collection and arrangement of facts — it is of facts pertaining to all the attributes and interests and relations of man as he has existed in our state and is to exist forever in another world. May the blessing ot Almighty God rest upon these labors ; that the fruit of them may be realized in the true advancement of our social system, and our better preparation, through the cross and spirit of Christ, for a perfect state above. We the undersigned members of the Executive Committee have examined the above account of the Treasurer, exhibiting the receipts and payments of the Institution for the year ending June 4th, 1849, and leaving a balance to the credit of the Institution of $2298 06, and an amount due the Trea- surer of $49 74, and find tlie same correct. JOHN SARTAIX, ) Members of iJie E. H. BUTLER, ^ Executive CommUtee. PldUdclplda, June Ath, 1849.