THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 THE COLLECTION OF 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 C378 
 
 UK3 
 l88Bf 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00039136498 
 
 This book must 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/addresstograduatOOmall 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 Graduating Class 
 
 AT THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA, 
 
 At Commencement, June 2d, 1881. 
 
 BY GENERAL E. J. MALLETT, 
 
 OF NEW YORK, 
 
 OF TliE CL.A.SS OF 1818. 
 
 RALEIGH : 
 Edwards, Broughton & Co., Steam Printers and Binders. 
 
 188L 
 
 < 
 
EXORDIUM, 
 
 Mr. President and Ladies and Gentlemen : 
 
 " You'd scarce expect one of my age, 
 To speak in public on the stage." 
 
 And I am quite sure you are not more surprised to see 
 me than I am to find myself here. Little did I dream, when 
 I said farewell to " Alma Mater " just three score and three 
 years ago, that I would reappear at this time and in this 
 place. 
 
 The Rt. Rev. Bishop Green, of Mississippi, the Reverend 
 Doctor Morrison, of Charlotte, and myself, are the battered 
 remains of the class of 1818. I had fondly cherished the 
 hope of meeting them here, and though I am disappointed 
 in that hope, yet I am glad to be here myself — but sadness 
 is mingled with gladness — for of the many who bade me 
 farewell, there is not one alive to welcome my return; they 
 all .have answered the last roll call, and have gone "to that 
 undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller re- 
 turns," and where soon I will join them. 
 
 It is marvellous how the surroundings here awaken mem- 
 ories that have slumbered for more than half a century. 
 Image after image comes boldly to the front — the dead re- 
 appear — and scenes of the long ago are re-enacted with a 
 fidelity that startles me with wonderment. 
 
 This morning I made a pilgrimage to the tomb of the 
 venerable Joseph Caldwell, which so conspicuously deco- 
 rates the campus. No one who knew him can ever forget 
 him. A man of a blameless and useful life ; gigantic in 
 intellect and a prince of learning. And this institution 
 never would have had birth and attained its present matu- 
 rity but for his assiduous efforts before the State Legislature. 
 He was childless, and adopted "Chapel Hill," and he watched 
 
4 
 
 over it with parental devotion and fondness to the last hour 
 of his life. 
 
 There was Professor Wm. Hooper — tall and erect, polished 
 in manners, gentle in disposition, and a ripe scholar. He 
 was rigid and exacting in scholastic discipline, but tender 
 and gentle in enforcing his requirements. 
 
 There was Professor Mitchell — a guiding star to his fol- 
 lowers, a devotee to his work, an ornament to the State, and 
 a premature martyr to science. 
 
 Those who knew these men slightly, admired and re- 
 spected them, those who knew them well, admired, respected 
 and honored them, and those who knew them intimately, 
 admired, respected, honored and loved them. Not only 
 eminent as scientists, but models in domestic life, and pat- 
 terns in the social circle. There are numerous examples, 
 (both living and dead) where brilliant talents and exalted 
 eminence have not walked hand in hand with modest merit 
 and truthful integrit3\ Not so with these men, for they 
 lived and died without spot or blemish ; and any college 
 State or nation might pridefully boast of such a trio. I do 
 not speak from hearsay, for I knew them face to face, and 
 I can see them now, unchanged as when we parted. And 
 thus, the magic wand of memory gives beauty to ashes, and 
 life to the dead. 
 
 I now address the graduating class. 
 
 Wheji you leave this place, you will start on the journey 
 of life, and you will not find the road straight and level as 
 a turnpike. There are crooked places, some hills and val- 
 leys, and very many precipices. Every one must choose 
 his own path, aided by such directions as God has given 
 him ; and there are so many wrong paths crossing the right 
 one, and the wrong ones well beaten, while the right ones 
 are often so faint you can scarcely see them ; and there are 
 so many always going the wrong way, that between the 
 number of paths to puzzle, and the number of examples to 
 mislead you, if you do not take continual heed, you will be 
 
in great danger of turning into the wrong path, which leads 
 to irretrievable ruin ; and you will do this, and scarce per- 
 ceive your error, until too late to retrace your steps. 
 
 There are no fragments so precious as those of time. We 
 cannot make an hour, or even a moment, but we can waste 
 months and years. Therefore, my young friends, garner up 
 your time and avoid idleness. 
 
 The most miserable and useless position a man can be 
 placed in, is when he has nothing to do. An idle man is a 
 sponge on his fellow man, and a blight on society; for, be- 
 sides setting a bad example, he absorbs the industrial hours 
 of others. Every man who is idle, or gets his living with- 
 out work, is adding so much to the misery of the world, and 
 is really injuring the morals and happiness of the human 
 family, and he should be held responsible for it. 
 
 What would be our condition if we were all idle ? Who 
 would sow and who would reap? Who would build our 
 houses, make our clothes, print i»ur books, or navigate our 
 ships? Without some pursuit, no man (in my opinion) can 
 be really happy, or even hold a reputable position in so- 
 ciety ; and it is well said, that the humble wood sawyer is a 
 better member of society than the idle fop without brains or 
 occupation. Every one should be employed in endeavoring 
 to enlarge the dominion of thought, or to simplify the 
 means of subsistence, or to do something in some way to 
 benefit his fellow men. 
 
 AS A RULE, TO BE IDLE IS TO BE VICIOUS. 
 
 There are now living hundreds, yea thousands, who are 
 physically, mentally, morally and financially bankrupt, and 
 who can trace their first step of error to an idle hour. 
 
 " Will you walk into my parlour, 
 Said the spider to the fly ; 
 'Tis the prettiest little parlour 
 That ever you did spy ; 
 
You've only got to put your foot 
 Just inside of the door, 
 And you'll see so many pretty things, 
 You never saw before." 
 
 Yes, in sauntering away an idle hour, he was attracted by 
 the click of billiard balls, and allured by dazzling lights, 
 and was tempted to put his foot ''just inside of the door." 
 And soon bewildered with music and dancing girls, and 
 fascinated with sparkling glasses, 
 
 He's madly enticed — just to sip and to taste. 
 And make all his future — a barren waste. 
 
 Do not misconceive me, and infer that I ignore recreation, 
 amusements, and even fun and frolic, for these are natural 
 outlets to the emotions of the young, and are as essential to 
 the health of the mind as sleep is to the body. I mean 
 habitual idleness, and, to use a vulgarism, a loafe7\ 
 
 I am an advocate for healthful and harmless amusement, 
 and plenty of it, lest we overwork. And I wf uld advise you, as 
 a sanitary precaution, never to employ more than four con- 
 secutive hours at one sitting on any one subject. More than 
 that fatigues the bod}'^ and perplexes the mind. It is not 
 what we eat that gives physical vitality, but what we digest. 
 And it is not the number of volumes we read that gives us 
 knowledge, but it is what we remember. If we overcrowd 
 the stomach, dyspepsia will supervene; and if we overtax 
 the brain, lassitude and sometimes lunacy will ensue. So, 
 caution is needful, as well to guard against excessive work 
 as excessive idleness. 
 
 A man's religious belief exerts a powerful influence over 
 all his thoughts and acts. I quote from Addison : 
 
 ''It must be so, Plato : thou reasoneth well, else 
 Why this pleasing tiiought, this strong desire, 
 This longing after immortality ?'' 
 
 And what says Saint Paul : " This mortal must put on 
 immortality." I know not your views, my young friends* 
 
on this subject. If you do not believe in immortality, then 
 this world is a blank, and life is not worth living for. And 
 if you do believe in it, then live for it, and die for it, and 
 believe this world is only a veil obscuring a more glorious 
 world behind it. A world beautiful beyond description' 
 and excellent beyond thought or expression. 
 
 As age creeps on, you will find life to be a series of dis- 
 solving views. Shakespeare thus quaintly illustrates it : 
 
 " 'Tis now just ten o'clock — an hour ago it was nine — and in an hour 
 Hence 'twill be eleven ; and so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, 
 And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, and thereby hangs a tale." 
 
 Yes, and a very long one, for it is endless. 
 
 You are now the sons of the State. 'Tis but a little while 
 since your fathers were where you now are, and in another 
 little while you will be the fathers, and your sons will oc- 
 cupy your place. And thus the scenes continually change. 
 Then much devolves upon you in this generation and the 
 next. Oh ! my young friends, tear a leaf from the hook of 
 history and wear it next your hearts as a constant remindei; 
 that the seeds of error and dissipation sown in the spring 
 time of life, will yield a prolific crop of sorrow in the autumn 
 harvest. For the devotee to licentiousness receives no re- 
 quital but remorse ; and finds no repose but the grave. 
 " Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he reap." 
 
 As the scroll of time unrolls, you will discover that hu- 
 manity is not the flower of a day or of a season. It requires 
 a lifetime for its development, and a long tale of years for 
 its bloom, its fruitage and its death. Sometimes the har- 
 vests are sudden, and sometimes (as in my case) they linger, 
 but though we may sleep for ages in the dust before resur- 
 rection, yet sooner or later there will be an eternal uprising, 
 when the bloom will know no harvest, when it will be pe- 
 rennial spring, when brighter stars will glitter on the mantle 
 of night, and a more effulgent sun will sparkle on the dew 
 drops of morning. You are now about to embark on the 
 
8 
 
 voyage of life, and you are fully equipped with all needful 
 appliances. 
 
 Now let me suggest four cardinal points, and believe me, 
 if you adhere to them, you will float over the ocean of time 
 with never a ripple or a wave. Be sober- -be honest — always 
 speak the truth — and fear nothing but God. 
 
 A man who is sincere and thoughtful, has the easiest time 
 in the world. He needs no prompter for words, nor guide 
 for his acts, because, truth being always consistent with 
 itself, he is not perplexed about his words or his actions. 
 It is like a traveller on a plain and level road, which is sure 
 to bring him safely to his journey's end, when by taking 
 cross cuts and by- ways, he might lose himself. You all now 
 have prospective plans, schemes and enterprises which may 
 employ months, perhaps years, to accomplish them ; and 
 you have every reasonable hope of living to consummate 
 them. Not so with* me; my work is finished ; I have no 
 plans or prospective enterprises ; and if I had, I am not like 
 you, who can look forward to years. I am limited to days 
 and hours ; I have climbed the hill of time, and long ago 
 passed the summit level, and am so far down the other side 
 that I can see the valley where life's journey ends And 
 that will be the end of earth, but not the end of life. For 
 this mortal must put on immortality, and I will be changed 
 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and transformed 
 and transferred to another life and another world. And to 
 what can we liken that other world, and that other life? 
 Ah ! my young friends, volumes have been written on that 
 speculative subject, and for ages and ages that question has 
 been asked, and it is yet unanswered. It is a question every 
 one must answer for himself. My answer is, 
 
 IN TE DOMINE SPERAVI. 
 
 For God is God of the niu:ht as well as the day, 
 And I feel and know 
 That I can go 
 Wherever He leads the way. 
 
 Now, farewell ; and I devoutly add — Deus vobis cum.