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 OF UNION COLLEGE. 
 
 T .Viwt a Portrait. 
 
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 I 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ulE LATE ; [f 
 
 PROFESSOR AVERILL, 
 
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 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 REV. WILLIAM A. BREWER, D.D, 
 
 Rector t. Paul's Episcopal Church 
 
 BURLING AME, CALIFORNIA 
 
 Deo *t |>at*ia" 
 
 1862-1931, A. D. 
 


 
OS THE CHARACTER OF THE LATE 
 
 CHESTER AVER ILL, A. M. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY IN UNION COLLEGE. 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE REQUEST OF THE FACULTY OF SAID COLLEGE, 
 ON THE EVENING OF JULY 16, 1637. 
 
 BY THE REV. THOMAS C. REED, 
 
 Professor of Political Economy. 
 
 SCHENECTADY: 
 PRINTED BY S. S. RIGGS, 23, UNION-STREET. 
 
 1837. 
 
AT a meeting of the Faculty of Union College, held July 20th, 1837, it was 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of the Faculty be relumed to Prof. RKED, for the 
 Discourse delivered by him on the evening of the 16th inst, in memory of the late 
 Prof. AVEE.ILL, and that he be requested to furnish a copy of the same for publica- 
 tion. 
 
 PROF. REED, 
 
 Dear Sir In behalf of the Students of Union College, we are instructed to 
 communicate to you their thanks for the Discourse commemorative of the late Prof. 
 AVERILL, delivered by you on Sunday evening last, and to request from you a copy 
 for publication. 
 
 Your obedient servants, 
 
 L. A. MACKEY, ADDISON M. BURT, 
 
 W. S. TAYLOR, A. C. BURKE, 
 
 A. T. YOUNG, M. S. SMEAD. 
 
 Union College, July 2Qtk, 1837, 
 
 828648 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 NEXT to the Deity, a virtuous, powerful, and enlight- 
 ened mind is the noblest object of human contempla- 
 tion. Viewed merely in his abstract and individual 
 character, the man of moral and intellectual power is 
 the proudest spectacle which the world exhibits. 
 Viewed in his relations to society, and in connection 
 with the influence of his virtues and talents upon the 
 happiness of his race, his existence is to be ranked 
 among the most valuable of the Divine blessings, and 
 his death among the most afflictive of the Divine dis- 
 pensations. And when the Great Destroyer has ter- 
 minated his earthly career, his character continues to 
 exert its influence with undiminished vigor upon the 
 destinies of those he has left behind him. The elastic 
 elements of which society is composed, may close over 
 the chasm which death has opened; but the virtue 
 and the talent have not ceased to operate upon its in- 
 terests with an energy, which, though silent and un- 
 seen, is yet of incalculable value. A single individual 
 mind may, in the mighty system of created things, be 
 
. 
 
 
 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 like an angle at its vertex, but an imperceptible point ; 
 but like that angle, when its sides are extended, widens 
 and widens, until it embraces within the sphere of its 
 influence a surface whose extent is immeasurable. 
 
 Hence the propriety, acknowledged by the common 
 feeling of mankind in all ages, of analyzing the merits 
 and doing justice to the memory of the dead. Moral 
 worth and intellectual power become more impressive, 
 and are estimated at a higher value, when found thus 
 to perpetuate their existence, and diffuse their bless- 
 ings over interests with which they have held no im- 
 mediate connection. Integrity, benevolence, magna- 
 nimity and all the virtues, beam with a softer and a 
 holier radiance, as their light is mellowed by the sha- 
 dows of the tomb; and an emotion to purify and ele- 
 vate, springs forth with every tear which bedews the 
 grave of departed worth. 
 
 I feel confident, my friends, that these observations 
 will not be deemed extravagant, or inapposite to the 
 present occasion. Indeed, those difficulties which 
 have to be encountered by him who undertakes the 
 public praises of youthful merit merit, which, how- 
 ever acknowledged in the circles of private friendship, 
 has not been made known to the world by any signal 
 or illustrious acts, are by me unfelt. Whether in the 
 estimation of that faculty, whom I represent, or of 
 that portion of the students of Union College, who 
 knew him while living, or of this whole community, 
 the character of Professor Averill was regarded with 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVEIULL. 7 
 
 profound and unqualified respect. Though few his 
 years ; though at his death he had but just reached the 
 period of manhood ; he had in the strength and con- 
 sistency of his moral character, in the maturity of his 
 judgment, in the correctness and extent of his intellec- 
 tual views, and in the efficacy which all these united 
 gave to his efforts in the discharge of his duties at- 
 tained the full proportions of a man. 
 
 My business, therefore, is merely to trace out the 
 origin of this universal feeling of respect, and to state, 
 however imperfectly, the history of a virtuous, able, 
 and useful man. 
 
 Professor Averill was born in the town of Washing- 
 ton, Litchfield county, Connecticut, March 16th, 1804. 
 During his infancy, his parents moved to Salisbury, in 
 the same county; in the character of those parents, 
 and in the features of this new location, we discover 
 some of the causes which formed his own amiable, 
 vigorous and useful character. His father and mother, 
 both belong to those large New-England families, 
 whose members are scattered over the face of our 
 country, and whose approach towards a new region 
 is hailed as the harbinger of enterprise, wealth, and 
 moral and religious blessing. This peculiarity, which 
 exists in the relations of this valuable portion of our 
 population, has not, perhaps, been sufficiently noticed, 
 nor its results on moral, intellectual and social charac- 
 ter, rightly valued. It is to be observed, that the wide 
 separation in place and in the pursuits of life, produces 
 
DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 no alienation whatever of family affection or sympathy. 
 Interest in the concerns of the emigrant is still felt, and 
 prayers for his prosperity are still heard at the domestic 
 altar; and, though the mountain may rise, and the wave 
 roll between the members of the household, they can 
 erect no barrier against the communications of a bro- 
 ther's or a sister's love, or the proffers of parental aid 
 and counsel. The interests and feelings of one family 
 thus become identified with the prosperity of every 
 portion of our country. A liberal public spirit is cre- 
 ated. The cultivation of the domestic affections pro- 
 duces its natural good moral results, while sympathy 
 with affairs so remote and dissimilar expands and in- 
 vigorates the intellect. And this expansion of the 
 thoughts and feelings, is no hindrance to the growth 
 and exercise of those virtues so essential to the w r ell- 
 being of the more limited and less exciting interests of 
 home. The two agencies are continually interacting 
 with each other. The stern regard for duty, which 
 constitutes so important a feature in a New-England 
 education, prevents the participation in extensive and 
 diversified interests from running into a reckless and 
 discontented enthusiasm. Hence, among the classes 
 to which I am alluding, we so often find the union of 
 domestic and social virtue, with a fervent and enlight- 
 ened patriotism. And while in those lovely vallies the 
 eye of the moral observer is delighted with the view 
 of little communities, engaged only in the faithful but 
 unobtrusive discharge of humble duties, and in the en- 
 joyment of Arcadian bliss, yet when he asks the his- 
 tory of the families which compose them, he finds that 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 
 
 " Minds have there been nurtur'd, whose control 
 
 Is felt even in their Nation's destiny ; 
 Men who swayed senates with a statesman's soul, 
 
 And look'd on armies with a leader's eye."* 
 
 The early life of Professor Averill was blessed with 
 a full share of these valuable influences. At home, he 
 met as familiar objects the bright patterns of intelli- 
 gence, piety and contentment, while an ardent curi- 
 osity was indulged, and his sympathies kept in lively 
 exercise, by frequent communications with a numerous 
 kindred, some of whom ranked among the mercantile 
 princes of the land, others filled high offices of public 
 trust, and all were blessing society by their enterprise, 
 integrity and wisdom. In such associations were 
 formed that uncompromising respect for principle, that 
 thirst for various and extensive knowledge, and that 
 generous and active benevolence, which showed them- 
 selves as prominent features of his character. A large 
 portion of a very voluminous correspondence, consists 
 of letters, of dates extending from the time of his enter- 
 ing college, nearly to the period of his death, from dis- 
 tant members of his own family, in reply to expressions 
 of affectionate interest in the welfare, and to inquiries 
 respecting the resources, natural history, and prospects 
 of the new regions in which they were respectively 
 placed. 
 
 I spoke of the locality in which he passed his child- 
 hood. It is, indeed, a lovely spot. It is in the bosom 
 
 *Halleck. 
 
10 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 of one of those vallies which give so much ornament 
 and variety to the rugged face of Litchfield and Berk- 
 shire counties, in which the voice of God speaks in its 
 sweetest tones, and which exert all the influence of 
 which local causes are capable, in producing an ami- 
 able, and at the same time a vigorous humanity. In 
 such a scene was his imagination nurtured, and his 
 acute power of perceiving the forms of beauty strength- 
 ened and refined, and a taste formed, which in subse- 
 quent years made him as far as means and opportuni- 
 ties allowed, a liberal and judicious patron of the fine 
 arts. 
 
 The first seventeen years of his life were passed at 
 home in agricultural pursuits, and in the acquisition of 
 a good English education. He was then removed to 
 a classical school, where his diligence and success were 
 such as to induce his father to comply with his wish 
 to obtain a liberal education, and to appropriate a por- 
 tion of his limited means towards defraying the expen- 
 ses of a collegiate course. He was accordingly sent 
 to Stockbridge, and placed under the care of the Rev. 
 Mr. Curtis. The winters of the years spent in pre- 
 paring for college, were devoted to teaching in a dis- 
 trict school of his state. 
 
 That a young man of talents and ambition should 
 endure the toil and confinement of a common school, 
 to obtain money which cannot elsewhere be procured, 
 is no uncommon occurrence, nor is it ordinarily worthy 
 of much praise. The occupation is one of essential 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 11 
 
 dignity, and if all its duties are faithfully performed, 
 becomes a most efficient means of improvement to him 
 who pursues it. But that a boy of seventeen years of 
 age, of feeble constitution, and retired habits, should 
 undertake the responsibilities of a school in a populous 
 district, where many of the pupils were much older 
 than himself, and where the standard of instruction is 
 by no means as low as it is in this state, is itself a mo- 
 ral effort of no ordinary magnitude. Yet such an effort 
 he did make. at that early age, and succeeded where 
 others had failed. The scholars had become notorious 
 for being vicious and untractable. The mode in which 
 the spirit of disorder was subdued, is worthy of notice, 
 both as an instructive lesson to others, and as an in- 
 stance remarkable in one so youthful of that tact, and 
 knowledge of human character, for which he became 
 afterwards, in a higher but in this respect not more 
 difficult sphere, so eminently distinguished. The in- 
 surgents, (for thus it would seem they might with pro- 
 priety have been termed,) were separately called before 
 him, and those principles of their nature, which operate 
 with some degree of permanence, were distinctly ad- 
 dressed. His appeals, sustained as they were by the 
 intrinsic respectability of his own character, resulted 
 in the immediate and entire reformation of a school, 
 which had been abundantly disciplined by his prede- 
 cessors, but who had, perhaps, forgotten that it was 
 composed of moral, intellectual and immortal beings. 
 Nothing afterwards occurred to disturb the harmony 
 of his new relations ; his conscientious fidelity in the 
 discharge of his irksome duties; his ability as a teacher. 
 
12 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 and his success when success had been previously 
 deemed unattainable, are to this day topics of affec- 
 tionate and respectful remembrance in the neighbor- 
 hood. 
 
 In the meail time, his classical education was ad- 
 vancing with as much rapidity as was consistent with 
 limited pecuniary means, a constitution which could 
 not well brook confinement, and very imperfect oppor- 
 tunities of instruction. There is something exceed- 
 ingly impressive in the career of a young man who is 
 making such sacrifices, and struggling with such obsta- 
 cles in the attainment of the remote, and when ill- 
 health is to be contended with, the contingent benefits 
 of knowledge. It is widely different in the other lib- 
 eral pursuits of life. The military and naval profes- 
 sions, possess in themselves a degree of exciting inter- 
 est sufficient to counteract all temptations to indolence, 
 and from the ideas of danger w r ith which they are na- 
 turally associated, perhaps, or from whatever cause, 
 confer upon those who adopt them something equiva- 
 lent to an immediate reward. The youthful merchant, 
 realizes as he advances the profits of his industry, pru- 
 dence and enterprise. Not so the moneyless, feeble, so- 
 litary and despised student. His way is noiseless, and 
 the more so in proportion as it is carefully and tho- 
 roughly travelled. And a young man must have at- 
 tained a lofty conception of the value of the soul, and 
 the importance of its cultivation, who can baffle every 
 obstacle which resists his progress, and by keeping his 
 eye steadily fixed upon the great end of his efforts, 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 13 
 
 bear up against the pressure of poverty, the contempt 
 of the proud rich, the indifference of the ignorant, and 
 the heart-sickness of long-deferred hope. 
 
 It may be questioned, however, whether the exist- 
 ence of such untoward circumstances, is always to be 
 regretted. The mere effort to encounter difficulty, to 
 make the most of contracted means, and to supply by 
 thought and original inquiry the want of ample facili- 
 ties for learning, may serve to counteract tendencies, 
 which are unfavorable to the production of an efficient 
 character. The most vigorous and valuable minds 
 have generally grown up amid the frowns of fortune, 
 the discouragements of misgiving friends, and every 
 apparent disadvantage. 
 
 Before the firm determination, and the burning de- 
 sires of Mr. Averill to attain to eminence in know- 
 ledge and usefulness, all obstacles disappeared. His 
 industry was continued during periods in which he 
 was not cheered by one smile of encouragement, and 
 but faint gleams of hope. If despondency offered to 
 chill his ardor, or pleasure to divert him from the path 
 of duty, he dashed them off "like dew-drops from a 
 lion's mane." 
 
 These observations are founded upon letters written 
 chiefly during his residence at the Academy, which 
 contain frequent allusions to causes of discouragement, 
 but still evince a determination to combat those cau- 
 ses, and, as far as health and talents would allow, to 
 
14 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 persist in his exertions. The motives which he avows 
 are always respectable to advance the honor of his 
 family to relieve them from the burden of his support 
 to become a blessing to his country and lastly, but 
 always as subordinate to the others, to indulge his own 
 taste in the pursuit and enjoyment of literature and 
 science. The substance of the arguments and motives 
 which at that time sustained himself, are well expressed 
 in a letter, addressed a few years after to a friend* who 
 had informed him that he was sinking under the indif- 
 ference of the world a friend who is now rapidly ad- 
 vancing to eminence in a scientific profession, and 
 attributes his success, in a great measure, to the friend- 
 ship and counsel of Averill. It is dated at a period 
 w T hen his own prospects were by no means bright 
 when, indeed, more than at any former period, he felt 
 the force of Johnson's celebrated saying, 
 
 " Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd." 
 
 After explaining his own embarrassments, which, 
 however, he views with a very philosophic eye, he re- 
 marks "I am wholly disinclined to derive consola- 
 tion from your adversity. I will confess, that there 
 are some passages in your late history, which, unless 
 carefully and rightly considered, may tend to render 
 such men as you and me discontented with life. In 
 them I see a young man of excellent natural endow- 
 ments, following the inducements of his taste against 
 many considerable impediments in selecting his pro- 
 fession storing his mind with more than ordinary 
 
 * Caleb Ticknor, M. D. of New- York. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 15 
 
 professional knowledge entering upon the practice 
 of his profession with a high ambition to raise it, and 
 with a zealous desire to be useful, at the same time that 
 he hopes to acquire a respectable subsistence, but lack- 
 ing the support and patronage of that public which he 
 is so well qualified, and which he so much desires, to 
 benefit. Whether this and similar facts result from 
 the triumph of empiricism over the gullibility of men, 
 or from there being a greater number of accomplished 
 physicians than the exigencies of the community re- 
 quire, is a question, the true answer to which might 
 not be very complimentary to the wisdom of mankind. 
 But, my dear friend, there is a danger attendant upon 
 men in our circumstances, which we should most stren- 
 uously guard against. We must take care lest, while 
 languishing under the want of public patronage, we 
 should cease to strive to merit it. I know it is difficult 
 to labor with alacrity in getting up wares which the 
 public will not purchase, or greatly undervalue. Still, 
 this same public is more weak than criminal in the 
 course which it pursues. We are all creatures of self- 
 interest, and we are all more or less liable to decep- 
 tion in regard to our true, our highest interest. We 
 are often blinded by credulity, and are slow in learn- 
 ing even the lessons of experience. Unfounded but 
 noisy pretension, may often rise over real merit, and 
 mankind may be tardy in turning from empiricism to 
 real worth. But yet they at length do thus turn, and 
 we seldom see a man, who deserves promotion, who 
 does not ultimately receive it. Such a man may have 
 to undergo a long and trying course before he meets 
 
16 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 success. He may have to suffer the injury of his feel- 
 ings, of his ambition and his pride. But still I would 
 say to him, go onward macte virtute and you shall 
 surely triumph." 
 
 The gentleman to whom this letter was written, and 
 who seems to value his uncommon talents and acquire- 
 ments only because they may enhance the physical 
 and moral happiness of his fellow-men, formed the ac- 
 quaintance of Mr. Averill while he was a student in 
 the academy at Stockbridge. The acquaintance soon 
 ripened into a friendship, such as Cicero would ap- 
 prove. From this friend I have received the following 
 notice of his character and reputation, while residing 
 at that most beautiful of New-England villages, and 
 " now rendered classic by its family of accomplished 
 authors." " During his stay at Stockbridge, Averill 
 recited alone, so that he had no competitor, no rival 
 with whom to measure his powers ; and it is very evi- 
 dent to me that he was not sensible of his own mental 
 capacities until after he had been some time a member 
 of college. He never failed, unless on account of ill- 
 health, to be punctually and perfectly prepared for re- 
 citation. With whatever subject he grappled, he was 
 sure to master it. He was at that time storing his 
 mind with facts of every description, and they were 
 accurately retained by his tenacious memory. On all 
 subjects which were presented he thought for himself, 
 and his mind even at that period was distinguished for 
 the boldness and originality of its inquiries. No one 
 of our fellow-students was so generally beloved as 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 17 
 
 Averill. And he as far excelled others in athletic sports 
 and bodily exercises, as he did then and subsequently 
 in the powers of his mind. During the spring of 1824, 
 his health became seriously affected. A cough, pain 
 in the chest, and other symptoms indicating a pulmo- 
 nary complaint, for a time alarmed his friends, and 
 threatened to interrupt his studies. It is probable that 
 this was the first manifestation of that disease which 
 aided in destroying the life of one so dear to all who 
 knew him so useful in the sphere in which he moved, 
 and now so much lamented by all who feel the value 
 of virtue, talents and learning, as connected with the 
 interests of our country and our race." 
 
 While at the Academy he commenced the practice 
 of preserving and arranging systematically all his pa- 
 pers, whether letters, original compositions, or accounts 
 a practice rigidly adhered to during the remainder 
 of his life. Of the compositions dated at this period, 
 some possess uncommon merit, and are peculiarly in- 
 teresting as illustrating the early development of the 
 characteristic qualities of his intellectual habits, and 
 the purity of his moral feelings and opinions. 
 
 The following observations, on the necessity of good 
 morals to the perpetuity of literature, were written 
 when he was about eighteen, and contain the opinions 
 which he afterwards held and taught relative to the 
 substantial merit and permanent popularity of authors : 
 
 3 
 
18 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 "Among the Deities which the passions of men create, there is none 
 whose favor is courted with such entire devotion, and is sought to he pro- 
 pitiated with such great sacrifices, as is that of Fame. And her influence 
 is as universal as it is great. Her devotees are found among all classes 
 of society, arid in every grade of human character. 
 
 " Among the numerous avenues which lead to her temple, none is 
 more thronged than that which passes through literature. Indeed, there 
 has been, and continues to be, so great a rush of authors towards her 
 gates, bearing thither the dearly begotten of their brains, and imploring 
 her to preserve them in her temple, and cause them to be known and 
 admired by posterity, that, if she should yield to all their earnest and 
 plaintive solicitations, her abode would soon overflow, were it co- exten- 
 sive with the universe. But this she surely will not do. For the same 
 desire of literary distinction has long existed whicli now so powerfully 
 agitates the breasts of men. Innumerable volumes have long since been 
 thrown upon the current of time ; and yet how few of them have been 
 borne down to us. The same doom awaits the literature of our age 
 which has befallen that of every other. Of all those who have written 
 during the present century, how very few can have the smallest chance 
 of immortality ? Who of them can reasonably expect to be placed among 
 the literary constellations, and be ranked with those brighter stars whicli 
 have for ages shone with undiminished lustre ? 
 
 "Thus prevalent being this passion for literary fame, and the number 
 of those who strive to attain it, and succeed, being so few, the interesting 
 inquiry suggests itself from what causes do all these failures result ? 
 Can they be ascribed to caprice, or to an unwillingness to reward, or to 
 a want of power in the public to appreciate merit ? No. For although 
 the public may, for a while, play the part of a blind and capricious judge, 
 yet the justice of its final decisions is indisputable, and from them there 
 is no appeal. Nor can we ascribe them wholly to barrenness of genius. 
 For genius is not that rara avis appearing only at great intervals of time 
 and space, which it has sometimes been supposed to be. It is not 
 
 A boon from partial heaven to few most lov'd 
 Of her withholtlen from the rest. 
 
 Indeed, most of what is termed genius in those who have drawn long 
 and largely upon the admiration of the world, is but the perfection of it 
 is not so much a natural endowment as a power and grace acquired 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. . 19 
 
 by an extraordinary exercise and cultivation of the native faculties of the 
 mind. 
 
 *' Nor can genius alone, however brilliant, secure to an author a per- 
 petuity of fame. It is truly indispensable, but without a strong, an ac- 
 tive and an elevated moral principle to give it direction, impulse and 
 vigor, its offspring must prove as transitory as itself is splendid and dazz- 
 ling. And whatever causes the injured self-love of disappointed expec- 
 tants of public favor may prompt them to assign for their want of success, 
 the true cause may generally be found in a weakness or paralysis of their 
 moral nature. It is this which makes our writers prone to earth, and 
 chains their spirits down. It is this which imparts to the productions of 
 genius the seeds of dissolution and quick decay. How many fine gen- 
 iuses have been sullied by the taint of avarice, which has given them an 
 eye to the coffers of the bookseller, rather tlran to the esteem of the wise 
 and good of succeeding ages! How many have become crazed with af- 
 fectation, who spurn common sense as a quality quite too old-fashioned 
 and rustic, and disregarding the rich colouring and expression of nature, 
 strain to dress up their conceptions in all the gaudy and meretricious 
 trimmings suggested by their own corrupt taste ! How many have been 
 enslaved by vanity which is not solicitous to merit, but only to receive 
 applause which hesitates not to sacrifice every thing truly excellent 
 and attractive on the shrine of the false taste of a particular time or coun- 
 try which can stoop to flatter the most miserable foibles, and which be- 
 comes the willing and faithful pander of vice ! How many have felt the 
 enervating influence of luxury, or have steeped their senses so deeply 
 in indolence as to have become incapable of any grand or long continued 
 mental effort 1 
 
 "Can men of souls like these, long receive the grateful tribute of pub- 
 lic love and admiration? Let an observation of facts and the experience 
 of ages give the answer. No : he who writes for immortality must have 
 another sort of being. He must be actuated by higher and purer mo- 
 tivesmust possess a soul conscious of its own power and dignity, and an 
 elevation of moral principle which will buoy him far above the caprices, 
 the follies and vices of any age. He must propose to himself that high 
 course of thought, which to others 'seems difficult and steep to scale 
 with upright wing ;' but which leads to ' high discovery that new-cre- 
 cites the earth ;' and lie must pursue that course with a steadiness of pur- 
 pose which air the alluring calls of pleasure can not cause to warm, and 
 with an ardor of enthusiasm that the chilling influences of poverty and 
 
20 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 present obscurity cannot cool. He must be uninfluenced alike by the 
 folly of thoughtlessness the misapprehension of ignorance the malice 
 of envy and the ingratitude of all men. Instead of contemplating the 
 insignificance of those around him which would enervate, or their vices 
 which would contaminate his mind, he must be content to closet himself 
 with his own high thoughts must find his pleasure in studying and in 
 endeavoring to assimilate himself to 
 
 ' Those starry lights of Virtue, that diffuse 
 Through the dark depths of Time their vivid flame.' 
 
 "He who can do all this, may leave to posterity a monument of intel- 
 lectual power and achievment which will be preserved and advanced 
 through all time. The conditions are indeed rigorous and appalling to 
 ordinary minds; but he who cannot resolve upon such elevation of pur- 
 pose, and cherish such ardor of pursuit- who cannot 
 
 ' learn to dissipate the band 
 Of those huge, threat'ning difficulties dire, 
 That in the weak man's way like lions stand, 
 His soul appal, and damp his rising fire,' 
 
 cannot reasonably expect to obtain possession of a niche in the long-en- 
 during temple of Fame. That he cannot, may be believed, when we 
 reflect that every succeeding age gives birth to many ambitious of liter- 
 ary distinction who, although they combine too many of the dissipa- 
 tions of pleasure with the invigorating influence of severe study, to pro- 
 duce any thing lasting, yet attain to sufficient excellence and exhibit 
 fashionable attractions enough to obscure every work of a preceding age, 
 which is not far more sublime in its conception and imposing by its truth. 
 And our belief will be confirmed when we examine the private history 
 of those master spirits, whose works have come down to us from remote 
 antiquity. Such an examination will in every case present the specta- 
 cle of zealous and entire devotion to the cause of literature of ceaseless 
 and unwearied exertion of firm resistance to temptation of patient 
 endurance of the most grievous privations all resulting in such a per- 
 fection of the whole moral and intellectual being, that whatever proceeds 
 from it must be perfect likewise. Had they 
 
 ' minded nought 
 
 But in loose joy their time to wear away, 
 Great Homer's song had never fir'd the breast 
 To think of glory and heroic deeds ; 
 Sweet Maro's muse sunk in inglorious rest, 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 21 
 
 Had silent slept amid the Mincian reeds ; 
 
 Our Milton's Eden had lain wrapt in weeds ; 
 
 Our Shakspeare stroll'd and kiugh'd with Warwick's swains ; 
 
 Nor had our master Spencer charm'd his Mulla's plains.' " 
 
 These observations are introduced here, not so much 
 for any remarkable elegance of composition, as to il- 
 lustrate the manliness and justness of his views with 
 respect to the essential qualifications of the man of let- 
 ters. The extracts which follow are of about the same 
 date, and will perhaps be regarded as uncommon in- 
 stances of precocity, both as to expression and senti- 
 ment : 
 
 ** There are many observations which are frequently in the mouths of 
 men, and exert a great influence on their conduct, which, however, have 
 not been duly examined ; and if blindly adopted as rules of life, may be- 
 come very pernicious to human happiness. Some are in close accord- 
 ance with our passions and predilections, as they afford excuses for the 
 gratification of our ambition, love of ease and luxury, while others are 
 calculated to discourage literary effort, and paralize the operations of 
 genius. Against the bad effects resulting from these the student, cannot 
 be too much cautioned, since most of them appeal strongly to natural 
 weaknesses, and many come well recommended by probability. Among 
 the class of common remarks to which I am alluding, none are more 
 dangerous than those which indulge the natural indolence of young men, 
 and excuse insignificance by representing success as unattainable in lit- 
 erature. 
 
 " How often are we told that there is nothing new, and at the same 
 time valuable, to be found in the literary world ; that the master-spirits 
 which have preceded us have traversed every field of fancy have ex- 
 hausted every subject of profound speculation and possessed themselves 
 of every thing original, ingenious, beautiful, or sublime ; that no writer 
 of the present age, although he may aim at, and suppose that he attains 
 to, entire originality, is free from the danger of being convicted of plagi- 
 arism, by the sudden and unexpected republication of the works of some 
 ancient author; and that the most vigorous and successful efforts of mod- 
 ern genius have been able to produce nothing better than fantastic patch- 
 
DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 work upon the literature of the ancients. All this has been said, and if 
 it were wholly true, or generally believed, there could be but small in- 
 ducement to effort, for a student of the present age. But these assertions 
 have been made by those who either have an undue admiration for the 
 works of the ancients, or too low an estimation of modern genius, or a 
 wrong conception of the economy of Nature. 
 
 tl True one cannot contemplate the sublime conceptions the just de- 
 lineations of human character the beautiful descriptions of nature, and 
 the faultless and felicitous modes of expression which appear in our col- 
 lections of Greek and Roman literature, without venerating the memory 
 of their authors. And one who proposes nothing but servile imitation, 
 has little chance of succeeding. But it does not necessarily follow, that 
 all power of originality is exhausted. Although the great outlines of na- 
 ture and human character remain ever the same, yet what genius ever 
 has what genius ever will comprehend and portray all the wonders 
 and endlessly varying beauties of the one, or delineate all the nice, yet 
 interesting peculiarities of the other. And although all beauties, both 
 moral and natural, may have been separately apprehended, yet we must 
 consider that they admit of an infinite diversity of combinations, all of 
 which may be excellent, and possess the merit of originality. Indeed, 
 when we consider the vast variety of ideas which now exist in the minds 
 of rnen, and the different powers of their imaginations in apprehending 
 and combining the same, we are induced to believe that the productions 
 of real genius would always bear the charm of novelty, though no new 
 discovery should be made. But it is undoubtedly true, that ' there are 
 more things in heaven and earth than have ever been dreamed of by 
 philosophy,' and that new truths will always be developing. And it is 
 disrespectful, not to say impious, to assert or believe that the God of 
 Nature has exerted so little wisdom, and made so small a display of 
 greatness in framing the universe, that man can ever find an end to his 
 inquiries, or that his knowledge will ever become so great that his admir- 
 ation shall cease. Nor would the All-wise have endowed man with such 
 surprising powers of mind an emanation from His own Divine Spirit 
 were it possible for him to detect shallowness in His designs, or weak- 
 ness in their execution. But conscious of His own perfections," He has 
 bestowed upon him those God-like attributes, and with them has afforded 
 inexhaustible subjects for his contemplation and endless scope for his 
 invention ; so that as he ascends from grade to grade in knowledge, he 
 finds greater and greater cause for admiration, and even a still higher 
 disposition to adore." 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 23 
 
 In the remainder of this essay, he illustrates his 
 doctrine by a statement of the outline of the history of 
 science. The passage may be too long for insertion 
 here. It presents, however, sufficient evidence of the 
 good use he was making of his time and talents. The 
 great eras are all distinctly marked. The intellectual 
 character of Aristotle, of the Schoolmen, of Roger Ba- 
 con, of Rocelinus, and Abelard, and, above all, of Lord 
 Bacon, are, when we consider the youth and defective 
 opportunities of the writer, drawn with remarkable 
 justness and sagacity. This portion of the essay is, 
 indeed, a very respectable histoire raisonie of the hu- 
 man mind from Aristotle down to our own time. For 
 the great individual characters are not only accurately 
 estimated and described, but the transitions from one 
 age to another, are kept constantly in view by the 
 young philosopher. 
 
 The piece concludes with the following glowing 
 paragraph : 
 
 *' It is gratifying upon a review of the improvements which have been 
 made from time to time, to imagine and contemplate that perfection to 
 which human knowledge must hereafter be carried what new orders of 
 being may be discovered, and what new and wonderful properties may 
 be developed in those which are now but imperfectly known? How dif- 
 ferently will creation appear to the future philosopher from what it does 
 to us ! Finally, instead of languishing under the idea that there is noth- 
 ing left for us to do, and that all ground for literary distinction has been 
 pre-occupied, how many and what powerful inducements have we to 
 the most vigorous and persevering exertion. Are our actions influenced 
 by motives of pride ? We live in an age when ignorance is most dis- 
 graceful, and when highly cultivated and well-directed genius receives 
 distinguished honor. Is ambition in affairs of state our ruling principle? 
 
24 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 We live under a form of government where merit is supposed to be the 
 only ground of preferment, and where the highest offices are equally 
 open to all. Are we instigated by a zeal for the interests of religion ? 
 When was there ever an age that presented so extensive a sphere of use- 
 fulness and Christian exertion, as the present ? Have we any regard for 
 the claims of kindred ? What can they so reasonably expect, as that we 
 should profit to the utmost by the advantages which they have afforded 
 us, or what can give them greater pleasure than to see their sons become 
 honorably distinguished?" 
 
 Mr. AveriU's power of analysis was very uncommon. 
 The following sketch of an argument drawn in prepar- 
 ation for discussion in a debating society, was made 
 during his academic course. It will be observed, that 
 it is merely the outline of his argument, for the filling 
 up of which he confided to his readiness in extempo- 
 raneous speaking : 
 
 " Has the honor, which is reflected upon the son by the virtues and dig- 
 nity of the father, a beneficial effect upon society? 
 
 "It may be of some importance to remark, that when we speak of 
 'honor being reflected' upon the son by the virtues &c. of the father, we 
 do not mean that honor which has sometimes been extorted from com- 
 munities, and guaranteed to the sons of illustrious progenitors by a posi- 
 tive law, but that which is paid as a voluntary tribute from men in all 
 countries, and under every system of government. So that all argu- 
 ments drawn from standing aristocracies which have been instituted by 
 men in power, and maintained by them without the voluntary concur- 
 rence of the rest of community are inapplicable to the present subject of 
 debate. 
 
 "In compliance with Cicero's rule, that 'omnis, quse a ratione sus- 
 cipitur de aliqua re, institutio, debet a definitione proficisci,' I shall un- 
 dertake to show what that honor is which is reflected upon the son by 
 the virtues and dignity of the father; or, (to put the question in a more 
 intelligible form,) what is the respect paid by mankind to a person in 
 consequence of his being the son of a virtuous and dignified father. I 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 25 
 
 would define it to be that excess of respect paid to the son of such a father, 
 over that paid to the son (possessing natural abilities equal to those of 
 the other,) of an ignoble father, or rather of a father who merits no res- 
 pect at all. For if this excess of respect be not reflected from, or in con- 
 sequence of the virtues and dignity of the father, of what is it the con- 
 sequence? 
 
 " Proceeding upon this definition, I shall show that this respect vol- 
 untarily awarded, has a beneficial effect upon community; and this, 
 first, upon the ground of rewarding personal merit. The personal merit 
 of the sons of virtuous and illustrious men, after they have become old 
 enough to participate in the direction of the affairs of society, is likely to 
 be far superior to that of the sons of obscure or vicious men, at the same 
 period of life. For those must possess advantages of education, and a 
 beneficial social intercourse far superior to what these can have. And 
 while the former are continually receiving precepts of virtue from, and 
 beholding models of excellence in the persons of their fathers, and in 
 the circles in which their fathers move the latter generally grow up in 
 ignorance, and instead of having precepts of virtue instilled into their 
 minds, never perceive her beauty nor learn her worth ; and of necessity 
 associate with characters, the contemplation of whom is very unlikely to 
 excite a spirited and noble zeal for the attainment of excellence. 
 
 " Besides, as the sons of illustrious parents will probably have more 
 personal merit, or, at least, a stronger disposition to do good, so will they 
 undoubtedly possess a greater power. 
 
 " First, because their acquaintances are far more numerous, and 
 
 "Secondly, because they generally have wealth, a necessary and all- 
 powerful agent in works of improvement or deeds of philanthropy. 
 
 "Now it is acknowledged that public favor is the great incentive to 
 human action. The bare consciousness of doing good does not rise high 
 enough in the scale of motives, often to prompt those whom we call most 
 virtuous to action. It should but human nature is far from being so 
 perfect that it does. Favor and fame are the " sweetest frankincense 
 to human thought." And if they wish to be benefitted by the actions of 
 others, they must evince gratitude, and show favor to those by whom 
 benefits are conferred. 
 
 4 
 
-26 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER, 
 
 "We will now attach another meaning to the 'honor' in question, 
 and endeavor to prove that in this sense, also, it is beneficial to commu- 
 nity. When men perceive one individual closely related to another of 
 great and acknowledged worth, there is a tendency to presume that the 
 former possesses the qualities which are known to belong to the latter. 
 This honor bestowed upon supposed merit, is what I here term reflected 
 honor. 
 
 " To prove that this honor is useful, I suggest the following consider- 
 ations : 
 
 "First, the tendency which I have noticed is natural and universal; 
 and we are not at liberty to suppose that it would have been im- 
 planted by the author of our nature, so deeply in^the breast of every 
 man, if it is productive of more evil than good. 
 
 "Secondly, the consideration, that not only one's self will be honored 
 by great and generous actions, but one's children also, presents the 
 strongest inducement to virtuous actions. 
 
 Thirdly, this tendency serves to keep up, or rather to elevate the stan- 
 dard of excellence ; for if a man see that he cannot be honored for 
 possessing merit equal to that of another, for which that other is ho- 
 nored, the former will strive to show a superior degree of merit to 
 that of the latter, and thus receive the honor which was before 
 awarded to that latter. 
 
 " Lastly, this reflected honor is the foundation of society. It is the 
 basis of all order every where." 
 
 I cannot forbear inserting the following piece, writ- 
 ten probably before he was eighteen. I say probably, 
 for although it is preserved among his compositions of 
 that year, yet the delicacy of its humor, the consis- 
 tency and completeness of the portrait, and more than 
 all, perhaps, the absence from its style of any gross 
 puerilities, induce me to believe it possible that it may 
 have been the production of a later period : 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVER1LL. 27 
 
 " Mrs. Dolly Dobson was the daughter of an old farmer who was re- 
 markable for the singularity of his wit, the scruhbiness of his person, and 
 a very much twisted and grotesque phiz. Some compared his face to 
 the mould-board of a plough, while others likened it to an irregular side- 
 hill, which had been rendered sterile and much rutted by heavy rains. 
 His nose, while it formed a prominent feature in the economy "of his 
 face, told plainly of originality in the mind of its owner, and an utter 
 disregard, if not contempt, for vulgar opinion. Dolly inherited her fath- 
 er's beauty and a due portion of his shrewdness. She was early initiated 
 into a knowledge and practice of those laborious duties which devolve 
 upon the daughters of those good old unsophisticated farmers, who have 
 escaped the contamination of modern luxury, and who look with greater 
 complacency upon the female hand which can dexterously milk a cow, 
 than upon one which can adorn a piano ; and who regard with greater 
 admiration the girl who can show a fine tray of butter of her own churn- 
 ing, or a piece of cloth of her own weaving, than the one who can exhi- 
 bit a fine specimen of painting or embroidery. And as she grew up, so 
 expert did she become in the several arts of spinning, knitting, weaving 
 and so forth, that not one of her acquaintance could show more or better 
 products of industry and skill than she. Yet this superiority was not at- 
 tended by one shade of arrogance ; and the peculiarity of her personal 
 appearance, together with her good humored wit, took every disposition 
 to envy away from her inferiors. So much so, that if there was to be a 
 spinning-bee, the attendance of Dolly was thought necessary, and she 
 was sure to have an invite (as they termed it,) though she was always 
 the first to get ofF her skein, and her yarn was ever most excellent for its 
 strength and evenness. Her thoughts were so differently conceived from 
 those of other persons, and so curiously expressed, that she was the life 
 of her company continually surprising them by some unexpected, yet 
 irresistible stroke of the comic or sagacious. But in all her eccentricity, 
 there was not to be seen one particle of affectation. So far from study- 
 ing wit, she often seemed wholly unconscious of it, and least of all did 
 she expect praise therefor. Dolly enjoyed a happy temperament. She 
 was as far from envying personal beauty in others, as she was from re- 
 ceiving pain from a consideration of her own deformity. She always 
 looked on the bright side of the picture, and lessened the effect of evils 
 experienced, by reflecting upon greater ones avoided. She lived with 
 singular equanimity, and her whole life was a scene of almost uninter- 
 rupted content. And if she ever felt greater happiness at one time than 
 at another, it was when she had performed some extraordinary act of 
 kindness. 
 
28 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 ** She was by no means the spoilt child of flattery or romance. And 
 hence, probably, was that unexceptionable propriety of appearance and 
 action, which she always maintained in the presence of those of the other 
 sex. She never courted their attention, nor practiced those many little 
 arts with which our fashionable belles strive to make conquests over the 
 hearts of their beaux. The languishing air the amorous look the 
 tremulous blush the long-drawn sigh the pretty mistake, were not 
 seen in Dolly. And yet she was no prude. For she never avoided a 
 person because he was a man, and in his presence she was the same 
 frank, shrewd, unsuspecting, and unaffected Dolly that Nature had formed 
 her. If, on the evening after the spinning-bee, it came her turn, or she 
 was adjudged to be kissed, she submitted without frowardness on the one 
 hand, or feigned resistance on the other. 
 
 ** With all these good qualities, it is strange that she was not contended 
 for as an invaluable prize. Surely Cupid must be worse than blind, not 
 to perceive and appreciate merit such as was hers. But it was Dolly's 
 fate to behold her acquaintances, one after another, leave her for the Ely- 
 sian fields of matrimony, while she remained unsolicited. And yet this 
 although it would have spoiled the eyes, and brought withering des- 
 pondency upon the spirits of many females of greater beauty did not 
 appear to render her at all unhappy. For in her more sportive moments 
 she would tell of chaff flying before the wheat that it is not all gold that 
 glitters, &c. ; and when more serious, she would speak upon the com- 
 parative opportunities of the wife and the unmarried lady for being 
 useful. Indeed, she seemed to take an entirely cool and rational view 
 of the married state, and supposed that nature would wear its ordinary 
 appearance that the same mixture or succession of sunshine and clouds, 
 would prevail in it as in a course of single life. Several years had glided 
 by without changing her character, or despoiling her of her beauty, when 
 offers of marriage were presented to her in a very business-like manner, 
 by a widower of sixty, who had been informed of her skill in domestic 
 economy, and who had a family of nine children. Dolly, having lost 
 her parents, and supposing that her sphere of usefulness would be en- 
 larged by the proposed marriage, accepted the terms without unnecessary 
 delay, and thus become Mrs. Dobson. The union proved very satisfac- 
 tory to both parties, and after a few years of domestic happiness, she 
 died without issue- 
 
 " Her life was not remarkable for striking incident, but formed an im- 
 pressive contrast with that of our modern heroines." 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 29 
 
 He entered the Freshman Class in Union College, in 
 September, 1824. His collegiate course was distin- 
 guished for eminent scholarship, unimpeachable con- 
 duct, a beneficial influence upon all with whom in his 
 new relations he was associated, and by the unintercep- 
 ted and rapid growth of all his fine moral and mental 
 faculties. He could be long no where without mak- 
 ing his presence felt. In college, where persons, and 
 feelings, and interests, become so intimately blended, 
 a vigorous and leading mind soon finds its claims ap- 
 preciated and acknowledged. Of all voluntary enter- 
 prises undertaken by the students for their improve- 
 ment, he was either the originator or promoter. Not- 
 withstanding the almost continual pressure of ill-health, 
 during his whole course of four years, but a single ab- 
 scence is recorded against him. His intimate friends 
 had frequent occasion, in later years, to wonder at the 
 extent and variety of his attainments. Delighting in 
 conversation, and endowed with uncommon conversa- 
 tional powers, he was found readily and happily to 
 illustrate and adorn his rapidly communicated ideas 
 with allusions derived from ancient and modern liter- 
 ature, and the whole field of natural science. We 
 knew that after he graduated, the constant demands 
 made upon his time and labor, by attention to the gov- 
 ernment and instruction of college, precluded the pos- 
 sibility of enlarged and discursive reading. His studies 
 were by necessity almost exclusively scientific. These 
 general attainments were made while he was an un- 
 dergraduate. In addition to maintaining the first place 
 in a class of uncommon talent and scholarship, he 
 
30 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 found time to acquire a respectable knowledge of the 
 language and literature of France to read thoroughly 
 some of the most profound philosophical writers of 
 England to obtain an intimate acquaintance with the 
 poetry and deep philosophic meaning of the ancient 
 mythology and the principal Latin poets and to pe- 
 ruse nearly all the valuable productions of English lit- 
 erature, from Chaucer down to our own time. The 
 peculiarities of the different British schools of poetry, 
 the most admired beauties of each author, and the pro- 
 minent and most interesting facts in the literary history 
 of all countries were made familiar. 
 
 And these acquisitions were made not by a recluse, 
 who, from the love of knowledge, had shut up his heart 
 to the claims and sympathies of the world, and immur- 
 ed within the walls of a college, had cultivated only 
 an acquaintance with books; but by a young man 
 whose views of education and knowledge were entirely 
 practical whose motto, indeed, both in thinking and 
 acting, was cui bono, in its most enlarged and elevated 
 sense; by a young man, too, distinguished for his 
 agreeable companionship, whose room was by no 
 means the most retired place in college, and whose in- 
 fluence was in constant and active operation in every 
 department of the institution in which it could with 
 propriety be exerted. 
 
 If it is inquired, how the accumulation of so much 
 knowledge was made consistent with so great a diffu- 
 sion of his mental efforts, I answer what was want- 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 31 
 
 ing in time was compensated in correctness and inten- 
 sity. From the commencement of his education he 
 had felt the importance of those habits of abstraction 
 without which all mental exertion is painful, and all 
 mental productions vapid and unsatisfactory. To the 
 power of abstraction he added the other means essen- 
 tial to the formation of a well regulated mind free- 
 dom from prejudice, independence of thought, and an 
 extensive knowledge of, and a continual reference to, 
 facts to correct the errors, and restrain the extrava- 
 gancies of his speculative judgments. The conse- 
 quence was, that few men of his years have been more 
 successful in the acquisition of learning, thought with 
 more justness, or spoken with more authority. No 
 man ever conversed with him, without feeling himself 
 in the presence of a well-informed, independent and 
 accurate thinker. And such was the respect contract- 
 ed in the councils of the college, for the soundness of 
 his judgment, that his opinions there fell from his lips 
 with the force and authority of oracles. 
 
 I shall have occasion to speak hereafter of the pre- 
 vailing tendencies of his mind, and the peculiar subjects 
 most congenial to his tastes. He possessed predilec- 
 tions of a very decided character for particular branches 
 of literature ; but in connection with the account which 
 I have given of his varied knowledge, and to explain his 
 motives in sacrificing such predilections to its attain- 
 ments, I will quote the substance of some remarks 
 which he frequently repeated during the year after he 
 completed his collegiate course. He said that "soci- 
 
32 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 ety imposed upon each of its members strong and pe- 
 culiar obligations arising out of his own employment 
 in return for securing to him its pursuits, emoluments, 
 and respectability. The merchant, for example, is 
 bound to sustain his credit, and preserve the soundness 
 and integrity of all commercial transactions. The 
 mechanic is bound to carry his trade to its utmost per- 
 fection. In like manner, the educated man is bound 
 to qualify himself to yield a ready and satisfactory an- 
 swer to all questions within the limits of science and 
 literature, which may be addressed to him. Society 
 has discharged him from the painful toil of those occu- 
 pations directly subservient to the supply of its wants ; 
 and it thus becomes his duty and appropriate function 
 to dispel its ignorance and widen the boundaries of its 
 knowledge." How noble is the principle which is 
 here avowed, and what could not have been expected 
 from the efforts of a man who sets out on the voyage 
 of life, selecting as the pole-star of his course, not per- 
 sonal aggrandizement or literary fame, but the faithful 
 discharge of all his duties to the world. 
 
 From one of the numerous letters, written while he 
 was an undergraduate, to his friends at home, I select 
 the following affectionate and grateful expressions. 
 It is dated July 10th, 1828. "It is most befitting, now 
 that my collegiate course is near its completion, (and it 
 is in entire accordance with my feelings,) that I should 
 make a due acknowledgement for the innumerable fa- 
 vors which I have received at the hands of my pa- 
 rents, brothers and sisters. I can not reflect upon the 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 33 
 
 warmth of affection with which I have ever been 
 greeted as I approached my father's fireside upon the 
 labor and solicitude which my friends have endured 
 to promote my ease and freedom from ease upon 
 the privations they have undergone to administer to 
 my necessities not only, but also to my conveniences 
 and luxuries, and upon the uniform cheerfulness with 
 which they have made all those sacrifices in my be- 
 half, without feeling myself the happiest of mortals in 
 having such friends, and without feeling under obli- 
 gations, which I shall deem it the proper study of my 
 life in some measure to repay. I hope the day will 
 never dawn upon me, when it shall repent my friends 
 to have done all this when they shall have the pain 
 of feeling that their great and unremitted exertions 
 have been thrown away." 
 
 This is the language of a man, who has been charg- 
 ed with moroseness, but never was a charge more 
 reckless and unjust. A feeble constitution, made fee- 
 bler still by confinement and application, the acuteness 
 and sensibility of his moral perception, and his own 
 high standard of duty rendered him sometimes, though 
 very rarely, impatient in the presence of vice, or mean- 
 ness, or indolence, or obstinate stupidity but no friend 
 that he has left behind him can recall a single event to 
 awaken resentment, or infuse one drop of bitterness 
 in the cup of melancholy, but sweet remembrance. 
 It was, besides, natural, and in entire consistency with 
 the best attributes of his mind, strength, and energy, 
 
 5 
 
34 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 that in their outward showings they should exhibit 
 something of a stern and abrupt decision. A youth- 
 ful friend,* in commenting upon the consequences of 
 his death, has thus justly and beautifully illustrated 
 this part of his character. " When I first commenced 
 the study of Anatomy, I was greatly offended by the 
 want of smoothness and symmetry in the human skele- 
 ton. Here was a rough knob there a spinous pro- 
 cess ; but I had not advanced far before I discovered 
 that these identical roughnesses served as the points 
 of attachment of those muscles, which give strength 
 and beauty to the human form. So with Professor 
 Averill. These very traits were only necessary mod- 
 ifications of those qualities, which rendered him so 
 eminently useful. If you occasionally noticed an un- 
 pleasant sharpness, it was only the acute angle of some 
 invaluable gem." In the fine phrase of Burke, when 
 characterising his illustrious friend, "the oak with its 
 strength must have its nodocities," but they only im- 
 part to it a more striking and picturesque grandeur, 
 while they do not lessen its power of resisting the 
 tempest, or supporting the ivy which clings to it, nor 
 do they deaden the freshness, or diminish the sweetness 
 of its shade. The strong features of Mr. Averill's 
 character, his high designs, and indefatigable industry 
 in their accomplishment, never interfered with a faith- 
 ful compliance with all his social and domestic obli- 
 gations, never rendered him to his parents a less affec- 
 tionate or dutiful son, to the ignorant who needed his 
 
 * Ed ward Savage, Esq. the amiable and able successor of Trof. Averill, in the 
 department of Chemistry. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVER1LL. 35 
 
 counsel, a less kind or judicious adviser, or to his as- 
 sociates a less generous, forbearing and self-sacrificing 
 friend. 
 
 A just and felicitous arrangement of the four great 
 parts of our nature, made with reference to their com- 
 parative influence on human happiness, occurs in the 
 philosophical writings of one of our wisest men and 
 most successful teachers.* He ranks first among them, 
 the moral sentiments second, the social affections 
 third, the intellectual faculties and last, the corporeal 
 powers and appetites. No man, who has any know- 
 ledge of the moral nature of his species, and who would 
 not do violence to their strongest and most universal 
 impulses and opinions, would hesitate to place first 
 among the means of genuine happiness, the attain- 
 ments of right moral principles, and consequently a 
 healthful condition of the moral feelings. Whatever 
 may be the sufferings inflicted upon us, or whatever 
 the trials it may be our lot to encounter, an enlight- 
 ened and unsullied conscience is the "strong-siding 
 champion," which will enable us to endure or resist 
 them all. But there is reason, perhaps, to apprehend 
 that there is a tendency too prevalent, especially among 
 intellectual men, to raise intellectual effort to a rank 
 among the sources of human enjoyment, to which it is 
 not properly entitled. It is very certain, that in none 
 of the classes of society is the development of the so- 
 cial affections so early arrested, and their indulgence 
 
 * The Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith, D. D. formerly President of the College of 
 New- Jersey. 
 
36 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 so frequently and completely stifled, as in that which 
 professionally pursues literature and science. The 
 men of letters are proverbially an irritable race. And 
 the philanthropist, in looking at their history, is pained, 
 not only by the frequent exhibitions of malice, jeal- 
 ousy and envy, in their intercourse with each other, 
 but too often, also, by the entire disruption of the 
 strongest ties, which can bind men together. It is a 
 sight, therefore, as interesting from its novelty, as from 
 its intrinsic loveliness and beauty, when we find a man> 
 who, during the most eager pursuit of literary success, 
 whether guided by his tastes, or stimulated by necessi- 
 ty, remains under the influence of the attractions of 
 home, and amid the absorbing and abstracting toils of 
 the study, feels the disposition and creates the leisure 
 to fulfill every filial and fraternal duty, and to indulge 
 every emotion, and perform every obligation of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 This subject was a frequent topic of remark with 
 Professor Averill; and his views with respect to it were 
 beautifully illustrated by his whole life and correspon- 
 dence. Neither time, distance or occupations, alien 
 from the habits of his childhood and those of his fam- 
 ily, could draw away his affections from that sacred 
 spot, his father's fireside, nor weaken his interest in all 
 the little details connected with the ease and happi- 
 ness of his parents during their declining years, or the 
 constant improvement and success of the younger 
 members of the household. In the large mass of let- 
 ters to which I have before alluded, there are many 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 37 
 
 dictated by his affections ; and the extreme care with 
 which they have been preserved, is sufficient proof of 
 the value which the receivers of them set upon their 
 contents and their author. 
 
 The following letters are selected in illustration 
 merely of this amiable feature of his character, without 
 regard to the times at which they were written. 
 
 To Miss Matilda Averill. 
 MY DEAR SISTER 
 
 I had entirely forgotten that I owed you a letter, and was filled 
 with pain when my brother told me that you had been expecting, with 
 some impatience, the payment of your claim. It is unaccountable that I 
 have not answered a letter, which you say was written more than two 
 months ago. Be this as it may, I am too desirous of having you and my 
 other dear friends, for a few moments at least, in close communion with 
 my spirit, to let pass the occasion of a little leisure to write to you. How 
 do you do ? and how are you employed ? and whom do you see ? and 
 what do you hear ? and at what are you rejoiced ? and by what are you 
 pained? what new friends have you gained, or what old friends have you 
 lost? You can hardly conceive of the emotions which I often feel, when 
 I reflect how little I am connected with, or rather permitted to take part 
 in, those innumerable incidents, which occasion the joy and sorrow, and 
 constitute in fact the life of my friends. Nor are my feelings less pun- 
 gent, when I recollect that my peculiar situation and pursuits have 
 brought upon me a class of ills, corporeal partly and partly perhaps im- 
 aginary, of which my friends know nothing, and with which of course 
 they cannot sympathize. If I could have hopes and fears in common 
 with them if we could struggle for a common good, or endure a com- 
 mon evil if I could feel that I was necessary to them, or that their hap- 
 piness was to be affected materially by the issue of an arduous under- 
 taking of mine, I should be far happier than I have been for a long time. 
 Do not consider me the most miserable of men. I only wish to intimate 
 that I am not as happy as I might be, and to suggest the way in which 
 you and my other friends at home may promote my happiness. It is 
 this write to me often stand not much upon ceremony mention not 
 only what has occurred to yourselves and friends, but also your plans for 
 
38 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 the future perhaps asking my advice about them, and prompting me to 
 propose some in my turn. You will thus thoroughly exercise my social 
 affections, and multiply, or at least strengthen, the ties which bind me to 
 life. I have to confess, that if I did not strive to prevent it, I should 
 sometimes feel my situation here very forlorn. It is true, I have reason 
 to suppose that I have the esteem of several valuable friends about me, 
 but their friendship lacks the virtue to warm a chilled, or to soothe an 
 anxious, or to heal a wounded spirit. Their affections and their confi- 
 dence, they give to such as sustain a relation to them different from mine, 
 and to such as have the highest claim to them. They bestow upon me 
 all that I can reasonably expect, and probably much more than I merit, 
 and I must look to other sources therefore for the warmer sentiments. 
 To you I look, and I feel confident that you will not disappoint me. 
 Though I am shut up for the greater part of my time, and doomed to the 
 solitude and desolateness of my bachelor condition and my study still, 
 my chief anxiety is to see you and the rest of the family happy not 
 "careful and troubled" but with hearts at case, and at peace, and in 
 love with each other. This, connected with the consolations of Religion, 
 constitutes the highest terrestrial happiness. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 UNION COLLEGE, Jan. 1st, 1832. 
 DEAR SISTER 
 
 This is a day of festivity with the multitude. At this moment the 
 merry bells are jingling the horses, which wear them, appear to feel an 
 unaccustomed briskness the beaux, who ride, seem to have a double por- 
 tion of spirit and sentiment and the belles, the inspiring divinities of the 
 day, methinks I see tremulous with pleasing expectations, and resplen- 
 dent with fresh charms. Yet how various the emotions which will be 
 experienced on this recurrence of the New Year various both in kind 
 and intensity. Some will chiefly look back with regret, and bid adieu to 
 hopes long cherished with the warmest fondness ; others, though to them 
 the past has been chequered over with disappointment, will not thence 
 learn the designed lesson, but renew their blissful anticipations ; while 
 others, who have not been long enough exposed to the fickle atmosphere 
 of the world, to have the dew of sorrow distilled upon their young spirits, 
 will look forward with eager desire, and see in the perspective that which 
 alone they have as yet experienced the sunshine of the heart. The true 
 Christian, will of course devote at least a portion of the day to self-exam- 
 ination, and put forth a more ardent prayer for strength to fulfill his reso- 
 lution of living in future with more conformity to the Divine will. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERtLL. 39 
 
 Innumerable things are done on this day in this state, which are not 
 thought, of with you. Thousands of visits of two minutes each are paid, 
 gifts are presented, good wishes expressed at least, if not felt, and all an- 
 imosities are understood to ho forgotten. I myself shall pass through 
 much of this ceremony though I trust it will not be all ceremony, for 
 I am attached to many there as friends. Yet I cannot forbear, before pre- 
 senting the usual congratulations to any one else, to express my good 
 wishes to those who, I know, will reciprocate them with all the cordiali- 
 ty with which they are conceived by me to those to whom are given 
 as due the best affections of my heart. I need not say that I mean iny 
 dear father and mother, brothers and sisters. That, not only when each 
 successive year, but when Time itself shall have run out its course, we 
 may all meet in Heaven, is the prayer of your affectionate brother. 
 
 C. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary B. Avenll. 
 MY DEAR SISTER 
 
 I intended, when I took my affecting leave of you a fortnight 
 since, to have discharged the brotherly office of writing to you before this ; 
 but poor health and a multiplicity of necessary engagements have pre- 
 vented me from effecting my purpose. I hope and trust that you will 
 do me the justice both to excuse the postponement of a duty, which it 
 would have gratified me much to have discharged more seasonably, and 
 to believe, that although I have not addressed words to you, my thoughts 
 in the mean time, have often reverted to you, and that my sympathies 
 have all been alive, and drawn out towards you in this time of your af- 
 fliction. My own grief at the irreparable and untimely loss of a brother 
 to whom I was most tenderly attached, has nearly overpowered me ; and 
 yet I feel that my occasion for grief is light in comparison with yours. 
 You have been bereaved of him who sustained towards you the closest 
 and tenderest of human relations a relation for which that of father and 
 mother, and brothers and sisters, the attractions of home, and the gratifi- 
 cations of old associations, had all been cheerfully surrendered the hus- 
 band of your affections and the father of your child. My heart has bled 
 for you, my dear sister, as I have thought of this distressing bereavement 
 so afflicting to you, and under which our whole family most profoundly 
 grieve, and I have feared that the poignancy of your grief might destroy 
 your health. I was happy to have this fear removed by a letter received 
 yesterday from my brother, who informs me that, though your'health had 
 suffered, you are now convalescent. It is doubtless criminal to suffer 
 ourselves to be consumed by grief, since even in the darkest dispensations 
 
40 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 of God, there are abundant sources of consolation. Those revealed truths, 
 that the same Being who gave us our friend has removed him, and that 
 in the removal, as well as in the gift, there was an exercise of unerring 
 wisdom, with infinite henevolence, and that what we are prone to regard 
 as overwhelming losses may result in our everlasting gain, if our hearts 
 are rightly affected, should hush our murmurs, remove our doubts and 
 quiet, or even render joyful our troubled spirits. We should search out 
 such truths, and cling to, and profit by them. It is in such trying times, 
 that religion yields a support, which, alas ! is often elsewhere sought, but 
 not elsewhere found. 
 
 I regret that I can not write more. My time is all occupied, and my 
 health is not good. I trust, however, to be better, as soon as I can secure 
 more quiet of mind and exercise of body. 
 
 Very affectionately, yours. 
 
 C. AVERILL. 
 
 The indulgence of the affectionate disposition in- 
 dicated by these letters, was habitual, and seemed to 
 constitute his highest happiness. During his boyhood, 
 while pursuing, at a distance from home, his studies 
 in preparation for college, writing letters to some mem- 
 ber of his family was his favorite recreation, and after- 
 wards, when his ardent devotion to science, and his 
 situation as an officer of college allowed him but little 
 time for general intercourse or correspondence, every 
 moment of leisure was given up to communicate with 
 those whom he declared to be entitled to, and who in- 
 deed owned the " best affections of his heart." And 
 this is the point in his character upon which the sur- 
 viving objects of his love most fondly attach. Amid 
 all their regrets for the loss of a son and brother, en- 
 dowed with such high intellectual power, and who by 
 his wisdom and knowledge, was so well qualified to 
 advise and assist them, they still hold in fondest re- 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 41 
 
 membrancc the amiable traits of his character, his 
 kindness, his generosity and his love. 
 
 It is needless to say, that the existence, in such high 
 degree, and such a constant and vigorous exercise of 
 the domestic affections, is one of the most faithful in- 
 dications of a virtuous mind. Professor Averill, as the 
 guardian of students, made it his first business, on their 
 introduction to his care, to become acquainted, as far 
 as possible, with their domestic relations ; thinking that 
 his most direct and effective mode of appeal, in case 
 of moral defalcation, would be to the feelings which 
 spring from those relations, and regarding as nearly 
 irreclaimable, the youth who could be heedless of 
 counsel enforced by the consideration of a father's or 
 a mother's love. 
 
 And how paramount to all others, do these amiable 
 qualities of character become, when we regard human 
 excellence merely as an object of contemplation! The 
 heart spontaneously and most cordially responds to 
 any exhibition of love. It is the attribute of the God- 
 head, in which man is not only most deeply interested, 
 but with which he is most delighted. Any external 
 type of it is most agreeable to human taste. The har- 
 mony of the material universe touches with as much 
 effect upon the heart as the understanding of the phi- 
 losopher. God, without his all-reaching and all-invit- 
 ing love would be only an object of fear. A human 
 intellect no matter how great its strength, or how ex- 
 
 6 
 
42 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 tensive its attainments if its operations are not guided 
 by the impulses of this heaven-born principle, can not 
 attract and hold the sympathies of its own species. 
 To this fact, the history of literary men constitutes no 
 exception. The private character of most of them is 
 contemplated with but little more pleasure than is that 
 of Machiavel or Borgia. The splendor of genius awa- 
 kens a present admiration; but if it alleviates no mis- 
 ery, or enhances no enjoyment, if, 
 
 " Calm as a frozen lake, when ruthless winds 
 Blow fiercely, agitating earth and sky," 
 
 it betrays no sympathy with the joys, or is unexcited 
 by the sufferings of man, its influence is without per- 
 manence and without blessing. With what instinc- 
 tive fondness does the most enthusiastic admirer of 
 Byron, cling to those expressions of love for Ada which 
 will break out amid the paroxysms of his intense and 
 multifarious misanthropy ! 
 
 He was graduated Bachelor of Arts in July, 1828. 
 His education was now complete if by such an ex- 
 pression is meant a mind thoroughly disciplined, and 
 well stored with the elements of every science. His 
 worth had got to be understood and acknowledged, 
 and as he bade farewell to the President, and his other 
 guardians and instructors, he received the tribute of 
 their unqualified approbation, and their congratulations 
 on the certain prospect of his future eminence and use- 
 fulness. He had won the respect of all his fellow-stu- 
 dents of many, the most enthusiastic attachment. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 43 
 
 They continued to court his friendship and solicit his 
 correspondence. And it was a tribute paid to moral 
 and intellectual worth. He was poor, and therefore 
 could not conciliate by presents, or by generous con- 
 tributions towards projects, the promotion of which re- 
 quired the aid of money. But his kindness, his talents, 
 his learning, and his influence, were always at the com- 
 mand of those who needed them. His popularity in 
 college, constitutes, indeed, an illustrious instance of 
 the power of mere worth and talent, and knowledge in 
 winning the favor even of the young and gay, over the 
 fictitious agency of fortune, dress and fashion. 
 
 Whether from accident or disinclination, he never 
 became a beneficiary of any of the public charities of 
 the country. The most rigid economy was therefore 
 necessary, to enable him to pursue his studies without 
 interruption. His economy, however, did not origin- 
 ate in meanness ; but if not itself a noble principle, it 
 involved the existence and exercise of some of the 
 highest and most valuable attributes of moral charac- 
 ter. The power of resisting the temptations of vanity, 
 impatience under mortifying, embarrassing and gener- 
 ally unnecessary obligations, the acute sensibility to 
 the claims of justice, and above all, that lofty sense of 
 moral integrity and mental dignity, which disdains to 
 sacrifice tranquillity and honor on the shrine of fashion, 
 or of pride, are all essentially implied in that indepen- 
 dent spirit, which smiles with pity upon the insults of 
 the vain, and looks, unmoved by envy or emulation, 
 upon the splendid enjoyments of the rich. Such was 
 
44 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 the character of his economy. If there was money to 
 spare, it was applied to obtain not some gaudy, and if 
 he wore it, misplaced bauble, but to the increase of a 
 library which, even at this early period, contained many 
 of the choicest gems of English and classic literature. 
 His appearance was plain, but always neat and cleanly 
 " costly his apparel as his purse could bear ;" in 
 short, all his expenditures were regulated by that stan- 
 dard, which, in an honest, discreet and well-balanced 
 mind, is implied in living within one's means, whatever 
 they may be. The lessons of his own prudence he 
 did not fail to inculcate upon others. The close con- 
 nection which exists between a judicious economy and 
 moral character and happiness, were often insisted on 
 in the important relations in which he was subsequent- 
 ly placed ; and seldom have I witnessed more eloquent 
 expressions of an honest but enlightened indignation, 
 than on occasions when persons came before him trim- 
 med in finery, of which the expense was borne by some 
 laborious, but unpaid mechanic, or the mismanaged 
 treasury of some benevolent institution. 
 
 Immediately after his graduation, he was elected by 
 the Association of Alumni, a Fellow of Union College. 
 The appointment, after some deliberation, was accept- 
 ed. The Association had not accumulated funds ade- 
 quate to the support of the incumbents of its Fellow- 
 ships ; and he had therefore to discharge the duties of 
 an Instructor in College, to be enabled to remain in a 
 situation where, better than any where else, he could 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 45 
 
 extend his acquaintance with the sciences, and indulge 
 in habits and pursuits most congenial to his nature. 
 
 He now, as a Tutor, entered upon a field of labour, 
 in which he has had few equals and no superior. 
 That peculiar combination of intellectual, moral and 
 personal qualities, which is essential to complete suc- 
 cess as an officer of college, is a precious blessing rarely 
 enjoyed by the great public institutions of our country. 
 Witherspoon, Dwight and one other, whose eloquence 
 and science are the boast and honor of the land, but 
 whose highest glory it is, that impelled by benevolence, 
 and guided by an intimate knowledge of the motives 
 of human action, he has subdued the wayward, re- 
 claimed the profligate, lit up the smile of joy and hope 
 on the brow of many an anxious and desponding pa- 
 rent, and through the medium of hundreds of well-in- 
 formed, elevated and practical minds, spread an influ- 
 ence of incalculable value over the face of the whole 
 Union, are almost the only examples of illustrious suc- 
 cess to be found in our literary history. There is learn- 
 ing in abundance, but it is rendered useless, because its 
 possessor is ignorant or regardless of the processes by 
 which knowledge is acquired, and with strict reference 
 to which should be conducted the modes of its com- 
 munication. Extensive attainments are not the surest 
 guarantee for thorough and accurate instruction. Fa- 
 miliarity with elementary principles and the desire to 
 grasp the remote abstractions and vast generalities of 
 science, often prevent a proper allowance for the ig- 
 norance of pupils, and render the learned teacher un- 
 
46 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 willing, in the language of Fuller, to "hang clogs on 
 the nimbleness of his own soul, that his scholars may 
 go along with him." 
 
 But the greatest attainments, and the most correct 
 views of the methods of acquiring knowledge, are by 
 no means all the qualifications requisite for a success- 
 ful instructor. Some little infirmity of temper, or im- 
 perfect ideas of the nature and momentous importance 
 of his office, and consequently the absence of a sense 
 of duty, may wholly neutralize the benefits which those 
 qualifications are fitted to produce. That high exercise 
 of even Christian charity, "which suffereth long and 
 endureth all things," is often necessary to withstand 
 the provocations of slowness, indolence and careless- 
 ness. The healthful and vigorous growth of the un- 
 derstanding, is so intimately connected with a proper 
 cultivation of the moral feelings, and a proper direc- 
 tion of the principles of action, that the one claims as 
 much the study and care of the faithful instructor as 
 the other. 
 
 All that is conveyed by these observations, charac- 
 terized the teaching of Mr. Averill. He entered the re- 
 citation room with very elevated ideas of the dignity and 
 consequences of his office ; with a mind full of know- 
 ledge; with a complete understanding of the degree of 
 attainment and capacities of his pupils; with an ar- 
 dent desire to benefit them, and with a determination 
 that no means in his power should be unapplied to the 
 discharge of his high duties. A recitation was to him 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVER1LL. 47 
 
 an intense mental effort. A circumstance occurred a 
 few years since, which serves no less as an illustration 
 of this fact, than of the correctness and depth of his 
 religious feelings. I was associated with him in the 
 charge of a department of the college, which was situ- 
 ated at some distance from the principal buildings, and 
 it was therefore most convenient that all its exercises 
 should be separate. His afternoon recitation, which 
 filled up the hour immediately preceding evening pray- 
 ers, was in Plato and Aristotle. He desired me to 
 supply his place w T hen it was his turn to officiate in 
 chapel. I was surprised at such a request, from a man 
 who never omitted the discharge of a duty, and there- 
 fore desired his reasons. He said that he was so en- 
 tirely absorbed by his author, and his efforts to have 
 him freely understood, that neither his mind nor his 
 feelings were in a befitting condition to lead the exer- 
 cises of an assembly convened for religious purposes. 
 
 The results of his instructions are well known. 
 Young men were apprised of the existence within them 
 of capabilities of which they had not before dreamed. 
 They had kept constantly before them a standard of 
 intellectual effort and attainment, which at once de- 
 lighted their fancies, and stimulated their ambition. 
 The great productions of ancient genius, so feebly ap- 
 preciated, indeed so often hated on account of the 
 painful associations created by imperfect instruction, 
 were studied with zeal, and felt in all their beauty, as 
 taught by his powerful and acute mind, and illustrated 
 by his minute, various and general learning. As a 
 
48 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 teacher of the dead languages he seems to have at- 
 tained perfection. He could awaken an enthusiasm 
 even for Aristotle. By working upon all the princi- 
 ples of youthful action the love of excellence, pride 
 in encountering and overcoming difficulty, and by 
 throwing around the abstractions of the Greek Philos- 
 ophy the rich and glowing illustrations derived from 
 his familiarity with that classic ground " where at each 
 step imagination burns," he was enabled without diffi- 
 culty to carry his classes through the most abstruse 
 and metaphysical authors. An important feature in 
 his mode of instruction, and one wholly disregarded 
 by most classical teachers, must not here be over- 
 looked. Many of those objects of his former regard 
 and affection, who now hear me, will not soon forget 
 how impressively he enforced and expanded the moral 
 lessons of Socrates and Cicero, and with what clear- 
 ness and spirit he explained and applied those funda- 
 mental principles of the Fine Arts, to be found (and 
 in their simplicity and truth to be found only) in the 
 works of the ancient critics. A recitation in Aristotle 
 or Longinus served as a means alike of enlarging the 
 pupils' knowledge of the language, and familiarizing 
 his mind with the great principles of poetry, painting 
 and sculpture. But it was upon the moral applica- 
 tions of the ancient Philosophy, that he most frequent- 
 ly and strenuously insisted. Enamored himself, and 
 endeavoring to enamor others of the majesty of Truth 
 and the loveliness of Beauty, he kept constantly in 
 view of the youthful mind the maxim of the Imperial 
 
 Stoic TOV wo 1 aX>)$w apa fts^aXo-^up^ov, 8ei aya^ov sva< that 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 49 
 
 virtue is essentially an element of greatness. And as 
 his pupils left his recitations in the Offices of Cicero, 
 or the Memorabilia of Xenophon, they felt that they 
 had been not merely reading some of the finest pro- 
 ductions of the human mind, but were inspired with 
 more enlightened ideas of the nature, and a deeper 
 sense of the force of moral obligation. 
 
 But an officer of college has other duties to perform 
 besides those of instruction. He is, pro tempore, the 
 guardian of his pupil. Mr. Averill was an officer in 
 an institution whose government claims to be parental. 
 All the responsibilities, all the pleasures, all the anxie- 
 ties and harrassments involved in that expression, are to 
 be borne or enjoyed by him who here receives an ap- 
 pointment. 
 
 Of discipline in seminaries of education, there may 
 be said to be two distinct systems pursued in this coun- 
 try. One rests principally upon the authority of writ- 
 ten laws. Offences, differing in degree, are enumerated, 
 and penalties, graduated in severity from fines up to 
 expulsion, are specifically annexed and are generally 
 executed. The system may have its advantages, but 
 certainly is not wholly parental. The other reposes 
 no reliance upon the influence of law, but rests entirely 
 upon the efficacy of moral suasion. Professor Averill, 
 whose ideas of college government were very definite 
 and decided, may be said to have formed his system 
 upon a judicious combination of the peculiarities of 
 
 7 
 
50 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 both the others. He had general principles which 
 were distinctly explained to all with whom in his offi- 
 cial capacity he was connected, and he insisted upon 
 the most rigid compliance \vith the obligations they 
 imposed. But no occasion was allowed to pass unim- 
 proved, of expressing to a student his tender interest 
 in his welfare, or urging upon the erring the voice o-f 
 warning, or rewarding the virtuous or industrious with 
 the smile of approbation or encouragement. If one fea- 
 ture more than another marked his mode of discipline, 
 it was a vigorous and even active energy. His vigi- 
 lance and his wisdom were a visible and felt influence. 
 When, a few months before his death, he was obliged 
 to relinquish all attention to his duties, and go away 
 from college, it was frequently remarked to me by those 
 who had been under his general superintendence 
 merely, but whom he did not, at the time, meet in the 
 recitation room, that they most felt his absence,/^- the 
 life of the section was gone. 
 
 Many of his maxims of government were striking, 
 and some were wholly original, or bold innovations 
 upon principles of ancient discipline. The phrase, 
 " being sent for" for example has in most colleges 
 acquired a technical sense. To him, therefore, an es- 
 sential particular in whose system was frequent and 
 frank personal intercourse with students, it appeared 
 necessary that the expression should be deprived of its 
 odious meaning, and that a young man should feel that 
 as he approached his officer, he should not as a matter 
 of course, anticipate a disagreeable interview. The 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 51 
 
 objects of his charge were, therefore, as frequently 
 "sent for," to listen to general inquiries about their 
 concerns, or to have their fidelity and worth applauded, 
 as to have their misconduct reproved, or their exertions 
 stimulated. Many instances might be related of this 
 attention to minute details. Their importance will be 
 readily felt by all who have been engaged in the busi- 
 ness of education. 
 
 During his connection with students as their instruc- 
 tor and guardian, he had, of course, occasionally to en- 
 counter a wayward, obstinate and vicious mind. His 
 conduct in such cases, was always fearless, decided 
 and conscientious. Looking only to ultimate results, 
 and proceeding upon favorable views of human nature, 
 he felt confident that his treatment would be finally 
 approved by the very persons to whom its plainness or 
 severity was at first so galling. And such was gener- 
 ally the result. He was instrumental, in many cases, 
 in checking the progress of young men to disgrace and 
 ruin ; and he never had occasion to regret the modes 
 which he had pursued in effecting his purpose. At 
 the last commencement he ever attended, he was sur- 
 prised at receiving calls from two members of the gra- 
 duating class, who, at an early period of their course, 
 he had been compelled to treat with some degree of 
 asperity. As they had studiously avoided the depart- 
 ments of science of which he had the superintendence, 
 he presumed that he had drawn upon himself their per- 
 manent resentment, and therefore concluded that he 
 must content himself with the consciousness of hav- 
 
52 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 ing done them service. But the hour of reflection had 
 come ; that great crisis in a student's life, the breaking 
 up of his college associations, had led them to review 
 their past history, and the consequence was, that their 
 last act, previous to their departure, was an acknow- 
 ledgment to him, that for all the merit they had acquir- 
 ed, and all the respect they could claim, they were in- 
 debted to his prompt, vigorous and salutary discipline. 
 
 % 
 
 Let no man think that he is securing the true and 
 permanent regard of mankind, by indulgence to their 
 follies or their vices. In the emphatic language of Pre- 
 sident Wayland " The young man may applaud the 
 negligent and pusillanimous instructor; but when that 
 man, no longer young, suffers the consequence of that 
 neglect and pusillanimity, it is well if a better spirit 
 have taught him to mention the name of that instruc- 
 tor in any other terms than those of bitter execra- 
 tion."* 
 
 To some it may seem extravagant eulogy, to dwell 
 so much upon the skill in government, of a subordinate 
 officer of an institution, which is understood to be un- 
 der the superintendence and control of one master 
 mind. To such it is necessary to say, that Mr. Averill, 
 during the last four years of his life, had the entire res- 
 ponsibility of directing a separate department of the 
 college, which generally embraced about one-third of 
 the students. During the whole of this period, the in- 
 terference of the President was never required. He 
 
 * Elements of Moral Science, Book II. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 53 
 
 had, iu fact, before lie had reached his thirtieth year, 
 to assume all the responsibilities of the Presidents of 
 most of our colleges, and that too under the great dis- 
 advantage of having a higher authority above him, to 
 which the refractory or discontented might appeal. If 
 his success was eminent, it was effected by the force 
 of mere personal character. 
 
 I have been thus particular in detailing his views 
 and conduct as an officer of college, because it was 
 upon his success as such, that his friends founded their 
 anticipations of his future eminence and usefulness. I 
 proceed briefly to relate the remaining incidents of his 
 life. In July, 1831, the term of his fellowship expired, 
 and he was immediately appointed by the Board of 
 Trustees, Adjunct Professor of Chemistry and the An- 
 cient Languages. The only change in his condition, 
 effected by this appointment, was the title and an in- 
 crease of salary, as during the previous year he had 
 performed all the laborious duties of the department of 
 Chemistry. During the summer term, he also read 
 lectures on Botany and Mineralogy. In July, 1832, 
 he was promoted to the honors and emoluments of a 
 full professorship. 
 
 This year, besides being marked by the usual rapid 
 growth of his scientific attainments and reputation, is 
 particularly distinguished in his history by the publi- 
 cation, during its course, of the only two compositions 
 of much importance, which he ever allowed to pass 
 through the press. The students, in the fall of 1831, 
 
54 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 had organized a branch of the American Association 
 for the promotion of Literature and Science. He was 
 elected their first orator, and produced a discourse, of 
 which those to whom it was addressed thought so 
 well, that they insisted upon its immediate publication. 
 The only use which, on the present occasion, I would 
 make of this address, is, by a few extracts from it, to 
 illustrate some of the characteristic qualities of his 
 mind and his opinions on some important subjects 
 his boldness and originality his somewhat peculiar, 
 and, it is believed, just views of the moral and political 
 evils to which our country is exposed, and the high 
 standard by which he always estimated the duties of 
 an American citizen. 
 
 The American Association was a great design. 
 Whatever opinions may have been held with respect 
 to the feasibility of its plans, it was acknowledged, by 
 all who had the patience to examine its claims to pub- 
 lic attention, and the candor to judge fairly of them, to 
 have originated in very enlightened views of the moral 
 and scientific wants of the country, and in the most 
 fervent and enlightened patriotism. Its provisions 
 were all republican. By creating a correspondence 
 between all parts of the Union, it aimed at destroying 
 sectional differences of feeling and opinion, and by 
 drawing around one great common interest, the sym- 
 pathies and exertions of every citizen, to lay a surer 
 foundation than it was supposed existed for the perpe- 
 tuity of our institutions. It proposed plans for expe- 
 diting the progress of science, and rapidly diffusing its 
 
OP PROFESSOR AVERILL. 55 
 
 blessings among all classes of the people; and while 
 its highest honors were to be conferred only on the 
 most eminent success, the way was opened and 
 smoothed to their attainment by the humblest member 
 of the Republic. 
 
 Such a plan was precisely fitted to arrest the atten- 
 tion and enlist all the pow r ers of a man of Professor 
 Averill's patriotism and love of science. The Associ- 
 ation had been violently attacked, and, as was thought, 
 without reason ; and by men, indeed, who acknow- 
 ledged they did not understand its principles. The 
 scheme and the opposition to it alike seem to be for- 
 gotten. The introduction of these observations was 
 deemed necessary to explain the exhibitions of esprit 
 du corp, and occasionally some asperity of remark, 
 in a discourse produced by a mind eminent for its 
 calmness and its balance. 
 
 The Address comprises the discussion of two topics 
 - first, the duties of the educated youth of our coun- 
 try, as derived from the moral and social evils which 
 threaten us ; and secondly, the facilities afforded by 
 the Association for the performance of those duties. 
 In the illustration of both these points, there is an in- 
 dependence of thought and a warmth of expression, 
 which indicate the highest confidence in the justness 
 of his opinions, and which could proceed only from 
 the strongest conviction of their practical importance. 
 Hence the apparent egotism, and the effort which is 
 very visible throughout the discourse, to have it under- 
 
56 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 stood, that all his statements rest on his own responsi- 
 bility. The necessity of frequently and urgently warn- 
 ing a prosperous and rapidly progressing people against 
 the dangers to which they are exposed, and which suc- 
 cess is so likely to keep out of view, the tendency 
 amongst us to sacrifice every thing that is truly valuable 
 to the acquisition of wealth the prominence of this 
 idea, in most American minds, over every other its 
 incongruity with the rapid increase and wide diffusion 
 of knowledge and as a consequence of all these, the 
 low standard of attainment and effort among those 
 who claim to represent American Science and Liter- 
 ature were topics on which he often dwelt, both in 
 conversation with his friends and in the course of his 
 public instructions. The Address, indeed, is only a 
 more formal statement of opinions which he had long 
 held, and of principles which he deemed of vital im- 
 portance to the welfare of his country. Of their un- 
 popularity, he was himself convinced, and from the 
 following extract from a letter to his friend Dr. Tick- 
 nor, it will appear that their publication was a sacri- 
 fice of what his friends deemed his interest, to what he 
 felt to be his duty: "I have lately delivered an address 
 before a branch of the American Association, at Sche- 
 nectady. I am urgently solicited to publish it. It was 
 not written for the press, and will be likely to get me 
 much abuse. I have taken a view of things .different 
 from that ordinarily taken, and have been particu- 
 larly plain in stating my views of our American pro- 
 fessors, and of the operations of some bodies of men 
 who have assembled at different times for the purpose 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 57 
 
 of forwarding the cause of science. Some of my best 
 friends in the Faculty, are very desirous that I should 
 comply with the request, but desire me to modify some- 
 what what I have said on these two topics. But I can 
 do no such thing. I am, and I trust I ever shall be, 
 willing to sacrifice any sickly feeling of regard for in- 
 dividuals, classes, or even common and old opinions, 
 when they are in direct opposition to what I consci- 
 entiously believe to be individual or public good. The 
 address will not do me much credit in a literary point 
 of view ; and as it wears a fault-finding complexion, 
 and hence will be likely to raise a feeling against me, 
 it may be impolitic for me to suffer it to be published." 
 
 " The duties of a citizen of a state, must, of course, vary with the form 
 of its government; the nature of its institutions; the particular juncture 
 of its affairs ; and -with his own qualifications, to contribute to the im- 
 provement of what, in those, is defective, and to the perpetuation of what 
 is perfect, or of what it is desirable to perpetuate. By keeping this pro- 
 position in view, you will more easily perceive the relevancy to the pro- 
 posed subject, of much of what I shall say. Now our government, in- 
 stitutions, and affairs, are all peculiar; and, by consequence, the duties 
 which devolve upon us, as citizens, are as peculiar. We enjoy greater 
 blessings, or are endowed with greater and more numerous privileges, 
 than any other people under Heaven ; and, since privilege always im- 
 plies responsibility, and responsibility duty, we owe more duties than any 
 other people. 
 
 "One great, though fearful privilege; or rather, the one sole or chief 
 source of our privileges, is, that almost every man in our community, is 
 made the depository of political power. Yes, the ark of our political 
 safety rests upon the shoulders of a whole people. How important then, 
 that their path should be plain and smooth before them ; that they should 
 walk cautiously therein; that they should not fall out by the .way; that 
 the precious burthen which they bear, should be properly divided, so that 
 the weak may not be oppressed, and that the strong may not become 
 
 8 
 
58 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 wanton and riot; and that they both may not be overwhelmed by the 
 wreck of that which was riot constructed, and which, if wrecked, could 
 not be repaired without the expense of years of misery and of rivers of 
 blood ! And for its preservation, what patience should each be prepared 
 to exercise ; what privations to encounter, and what sacrifices to make ! 
 How should each consider, that he has an invaluable property in it, and 
 cling to it as to his chief good ; nor despair of saving it, even in its most 
 forlorn state ! 
 
 "But whilst all these things are essential, indeed, apparently, indis- 
 pensable to the supporters of that sacred fabric, do they possess them ? 
 Alas ! that I cannot, in general, answer yes. But hosts are "walking in 
 paths which they know not; others, reckless of the public good, are mad- 
 ly bent upon the gratification of their inordinate desires, for wealth and 
 power ; minorities are desperately impatient of laws which majorities 
 enact ; party strife disturbs the balance of political justice ; and many a 
 desperado may be found, who would rejoice at the destruction of the state, 
 for the chance that he might pocket something brilliant from its ruins ! 
 
 " In tracing this very brief and hasty sketch, I have colored with truth 
 rather than with flattery. I have sought to awaken, in you, prudent fears 
 rather than to foster a pernicious pride. I know that such sketches are 
 disagreeable, and that, therefore, they are seldom drawn. I know that 
 I might have wedded fancy to fact, and that from this very common, 
 though not always profitable, conjunction, I might have derived a pic- 
 ture, that would have delighted those deceived by it, and caused them 
 to be confident in hope and to glow with pride and ambition. I might 
 have dwelt upon the equal operation of our laws ; upon the perfection 
 and strength of our constitution ; have discoursed how each department 
 of our government holds a most salutary check upon all the others, and 
 yet in what admirable concert and harmony, they combine to answer, 
 entirely, every important end of government. I might have assured 
 you, that the integrity of this constitution, has a sufficient and a never 
 failing safeguard in the intelligence and patriotism of the American peo- 
 ple. I might then have turned your charmed attention from the gov- 
 ernment to the governed ; to the unexampled increase of their numbers ; 
 to the vast extent of their territories; to the prodigious growth of their 
 capital ; to their magnificent and rapidly extending, internal improve- 
 ments, in the forms of canals and rail roads, indissoluble bonds, to bind 
 together the interests and affections of remote districts ; to their emula- 
 tion in the improvement of the liberal and mechanic arts; and, in fine, 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 59 
 
 to their steady, though swift, and never to be retarded, advancement to- 
 wards a virtue, magnificence and glory, of which even the most ardent 
 school boy patriot has scarcely dreamed ! I might have thrown such a 
 brilliant radiance around this picture, that in viewing it some might 
 have been so dazzled, as to conceive that they have nothing to fear, but 
 every thing to expect; that they will only have to open their coffers, to 
 have them filled ; that they will only have to aspire to the high places 
 of distinction and power, to be straightway elevated there; and that their 
 whole pathway to the tomb, will be broadly traced by light and joy, and 
 will remain, in all its brightness and felicity, to be trodden by their re- 
 motest posterity ! Oh ! it is more agreeable it is easier to dream of a 
 golden age, than to provide securities against the evils, or evil tendencies 
 of our own. But it is not more wise. Indeed it must be the height of 
 folly, to jeopardize an invaluable good, by overlooking an evil; to stum- 
 ble on destruction, by being entranced in visions of bliss. 
 
 "Heaven forbid, that I should attempt to draw a thick veil over just 
 and ample causes, for our pride and our rejoicing ; but while light and 
 relief are given to these, it should not be concealed, that other causes lurk 
 behind, which may effect our ruin. I am far from wishing to induce 
 you, to sacrifice your present enjoyment, to useless and painful forebod- 
 ings ; but there is a kind of caution, which, ivhile it does not materially di- 
 minish the intensity of happiness, is necessary to its perpetuity. To the 
 exercise of this, I would most urgently persuade you, and would admon- 
 ish each one of you, to mark well, lest many things, which we, as Amer- 
 icans, hold most dear, and are placing nearest our hearts, may prove vi- 
 pers there. 
 
 " Now, every mind in our republic, may think; every mouth speak, 
 and every hand act, for itself, in reference to any subject political, mo- 
 ral, or religious ; and we would not barter these glorious prerogatives of 
 freedom, for any earthly consideration, nor part with them, but with our 
 lives. But do we not find abundant reason for fearful apprehension, in 
 the reflection, that while they are the most powerful instruments of good, 
 they may prove the most destructive engines of evil ? that so many 
 more act, than do, or are competent to think? that the multitude are, 
 for the most part, tools, ready for the hands of the designing? and that 
 many, who profess to investigate and make deductions for themselves, 
 conscientiously and perseveringly enter upon courses of action, directed 
 by the most narrow, misguided and partial views? 
 
60 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 "We boast of the unprecedented increase of our population, as giving 
 us strength at home, and respect and the power of conquest abroad. 
 But have we no reason to suspect, that increased ignorance, misery, crime, 
 and licentiousness, are its concomitants ? While we boast of the power 
 of our people, have we no reason to fear their fury, which, if not repress- 
 ed, would be more to be dreaded than that of unchained lions? 
 
 ** We expand with admiration and pride, as we stretch our eyes across 
 our vast territories. But should we not at the same time dread, lest the 
 pulses of state, may send into its remote extremities too sparingly, the 
 life-blood of interest and patriotism, to promote their growth, increase 
 their vigor, and preserve their attachment to our body politic ? Is it not 
 most seriously to be apprehended that, as districts are more and more 
 remote from each other, their interests should appear to be less and less 
 mutual, to be separate and to conflict ? and that what has been our proud 
 boast may prove our bane ? Or rather have not these apprehensions be- 
 come sad realities ? Are not loud, though respectful, and, perhaps, too 
 well founded complaints of an illiberal, unjust, and impoverishing policy, 
 wafted to us from afar by every breeze, accompanied by strong remon- 
 strances against oppression by spirited petitions, for redress, and by so- 
 lemn protestations, that, unless this be promptly rendered, the oppressed 
 must either be destroyed, or throw off the authority of their oppressors ? 
 
 "But our internal improvements! our internal improvements! Ah! 
 what a charm is in those sounds ! Internal improvements ! Their very 
 name dissipates despondency. For in them, we think, we see a bond of 
 union ; a tower of strength, and a mine of wealth. They are to make 
 neighbors, and of course friends of the ardent south, and the frozen north ; 
 of the barren east and the fertile west. They are to carry away, and that 
 too by steam, all bones of contention, all rocks of offence, till not enough 
 will be left for cabinet curiosities ! Unity and affection will grow luxuri- 
 antly upon the soil, whence these shall have been removed ; and we shall 
 exhibit a people, all immensely rich and all exceedingly attached to each 
 other, almost in spite of ourselves ! The generous earth will become still 
 more generous. She will yield her bounteous gifts to our improved ma- 
 chinery, and we shall nearly escape that fearful and divine malediction, 
 ' In the sweat of thy face, shalt. thou eat thy bread all the days of thy life' ! 
 We shall have nought to do but to ride and to revel, and, that too, at a 
 rapid rate ! Improvements will do every thing ! I beg you not to mis- 
 take me. If I have here shown levity, I assure you that it is of sadness, 
 rather than of mirth. I know that our internal improvements have im- 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 61 
 
 mortalized their projectors; are admirable in the eyes of the world; and 
 promise great national benefits. But I confess to you, that I shudder, 
 when I think that I foresee their ultimate effect upon the condition and 
 morals of our people. I cannot listen to the lofty songs of congratulation 
 with which their commencement, progress and completion are celebrated, 
 without sounding some discordant notes of alarm. True, they will greatly 
 contribute to the development of our physical resources; they will im- 
 part a surprising impulse to enterprise and to trade ; they may cause wealth 
 to flow in upon us like the tide. But wealth is not intelligence, virtue, 
 magnanimity or patriotism. It is not their parent even ; but their most 
 certain, and fell destroyer. It may wrap our land in an effulgence, 
 bright as that of the comet ; but like the comet, it will carry with it a 
 blighting influence it will portend pestilence and destruction. It may 
 sooth our souls in sweet delirium; but this delirium will be the presage 
 of death. Do I exaggerate the pernicious effects of wealth? Do you 
 behold her accursed train, luxury, effeminacy, vice, crime and disease? 
 If not, will you look upon the wrecks of fallen nations, and read their 
 consequences there? 
 
 "But you may think that I am frightened by a picture, which my 
 imagination has formed of scanty materials ; that no real danger exists 
 of this vast increase of wealth. Was ever a people so strikingly charac- 
 terized as ours, by an all absorbing passion for wealth ? so celebrated for 
 their enterprise and for their innumerable and ingenious contrivances, for 
 begetting and increasing it ? Did ever a government afford so many faci- 
 lities and encouragements, for gratifying this passion? Did ever a coun- 
 try possess greater physical resources for wealth, than ours ? 
 
 "It may be thought, however, that since the wealth of other countries 
 was, for the most part, acquired by rapine and extortion, whilst ours will 
 be the fruit of honest industry, or of ingenious art, we need not fear those 
 evil consequences of it which destroyed them. Let us not be deceived 
 by such fallacious suggestions. The decaying process may in our case, 
 be slower than in theirs ; but without an omnipotent interposition, it will 
 be as certain and as complete. Prodigal sons will forget the toils of their 
 virtuous fathers, and laugh, in mixed joy and derision, at the uncouth 
 manners, the plodding labors, and the frugal habits of those, whom they 
 will be pleased to call stupid fools; and in the profusion and waste of 
 whose wealth, they will sate their sensuality. The virtue of a people, 
 will ever be corroded and consumed by wealth, as long as they carry 
 about them the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, and the pride of life. 
 
62 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 *' I know, that when the evil effects of wealth are alluded to, by those 
 who apprehend, from them, danger to the permanency of our institutions, 
 the sanguine patriot exultingly points to our peculiar statutes of inheritance, 
 conveyance and distribution, as though they can prevent the existence of 
 overgrown estates, and preserve that uniform diffusion of wealth, which 
 while it affords a general competency, excludes luxury and greatly pro- 
 motes virtue. It would ill become me, to attempt to detract from the wis- 
 dom which our fathers showed, in destroying all priviledged orders, and 
 leaving each one to profit by his own prudence, industry and sobriety; 
 or to suffer from his improvidence, idleness and profligacy. But al- 
 though the wisdom of those measures, is highly commendable, I must 
 express my decided conviction, that they cannot effect the entire object 
 for which they were designed. They will occasion a more easy, or a 
 quicker, transfer of property from one hand, or family, to another ; but 
 they will never effect a uniform distribution of it. Money has an attrac- 
 tion for money, as the particles of quick-silver have for each other. It 
 seems impossible to destroy this attraction, by enactments. And so strong 
 has it shown itself, notwithstanding our boasted laws for the purpose of 
 weakening it ; that already, even in the infancy of our republic, and with 
 our moderate accumulation of capital, it has raised the clamor of agra- 
 rianism. Indeed nothing will prevent its accumulating to an alarming, 
 a fatal extent, unless there shall be created some strong diversion from its 
 all-engrossing pursuit. 
 
 "But are all just grounds of apprehension, confined at home? Have 
 we nothing to fear from abroad ? Our fleets and armies ; our naval skill 
 and military prowess ; as they are utterly incompetent to protect our 
 constitution, preserve our union, and to form our glory and happiness at 
 home ; so are they, of themselves, insufficient to protect us from foreign 
 aggression, and do not form our proudest title to respect abroad. But we 
 need not increase them. They are not suited to our exigencies. They 
 are the instruments and munitions of tyrants, who are enthorned, not in 
 the hearts, but upon the bodies of their people : whose dominion is of 
 physical might, and must be maintained by physical strength, by fleets 
 and armies. But they are too wise, to employ these against us. They 
 dare not send here their servile troops, to behold the blessings of freedom ; 
 to breathe the infectious air of liberty ; and to carry back insubordination 
 and enmity to despotic power. 
 
 "It is, however, highly important for us to know, that they are training 
 and keeping in full pay an army, not of flesh and blood, to whose fidelity 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL, 63 
 
 and efficiency they are much indebted for the stability of their thrones ; and 
 upon whose insidious attacks and destructive mode of warfare, they con- 
 fidently count for the subversion of our free institutions ; an army of so- 
 phisticating follies, extravagancies and vices ; whose skill is fatally ex- 
 hibited in creating a disgust for the practice of those simple virtues, which 
 are essential to the existence of freedom. Against those we need most 
 vigilantly to guard, as they make conquests in disguise; most strongly 
 to defend ourselves, since when once they have made a lodgement in 
 a land, their devastating progress through it can scarcely be prevented. 
 The voluptuousness and corruption of courts, can more easily effect our 
 destruction, than the swords of armed myriads : for 
 
 " Unless corruption first deject the pride 
 And guardian vigor of the free-born soul, 
 All crude attempts of violence are vain : 
 For firm within, and while at heart untouched, 
 Ne'er yet by force was freedom overcome." 
 
 " Such are the foes which we have chiefly to fear, and to fortify our- 
 selves against, from abroad. And who, from the hasty views which I 
 have taken, can not perceive the peculiar exigencies of our country ; and 
 from these infer the services which she requires from her educated sons? 
 Who does not see, that perfect as we think our government, it is, of all 
 governments, the most easily dissolved ? that there is but one step be- 
 tween democracy and anarchy ? and that it requires the most strenuous 
 efforts of the wise and the good, to prevent the people from taking it ? Is 
 it not evident, that our institutions, based as they are, upon the intelli- 
 gence, virtue and true interests of a great people ; and embracing so 
 many elements of good and evil in conflict; must be sustained, if sus- 
 tained at all, by those whose minds have been disciplined by reflection, 
 and stored with knowledge ; whose passions have been subdued, or trained 
 to virtue ; and whose magnanimity will convince the people, that indi- 
 vidual interests are identical with those of the republic 1 Yes, our bul- 
 warks of defence, and our bonds of union, must be our virtue and our in- 
 telligence. The engines with which we must repel tyranny, and arrest 
 the march of corruption, are the pulpit, the forum, and the press. And 
 you, and such as you, must man them. It is not extravagance, in me to 
 say, that a certain tone of public morals, must be created and fixed ; a 
 certain illumination of the public mind, upon political and other subjects, 
 must be effected by our educated young men, or they will outlive their 
 freedom. There can be no doubt, that our country is fast approaching an 
 awful crisis. If those great constitutional questions, which now so fear- 
 
64 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 fully agitate her, are not calmly and liberally discussed, and clearly and 
 satisfactorily settled; if the states, which are now inimical to each other, 
 are not brought to embrace as friends; if the social and intellectual con- 
 dition of our people, is not improved; if the possession of wealth is not 
 made a less enviable distinction ; and if there is not an end put to intrigue 
 and corruption, she will be convulsed to her centre, with internal dissen- 
 sions, and experience fully the direful scourge of civil war. Now, upon 
 whom falls the arduous responsibility of averting these impending cala- 
 mities? Who has the patriotism, the moral courage, to attempt; who 
 the wisdom, the moral strength, to effect the subjugation of these threat- 
 ening evils ? Surely none other than our educated young men ; you, and 
 such as you ! You only have heads to counsel, if others have hearts to 
 act. But if you, the highly favored sons of your country ; whom she re- 
 gards with her fondest hopes ; whom she hath distinguished by her rich- 
 est gifts; whom she hath chosen and fitted to be her brightest ornaments, 
 her only true nobility: if you, whose minds she has enlightened, and 
 taught to feel the full enjoyment of freedom, and to perceive its only safe- 
 guard, do not cherish a warmth, and a strength of patriotism, which 
 would prompt you to undertake the most difficult enterprises in her be- 
 half, where else may we find it ? I doubt not your devotion to your coun- 
 try. I do not doubt, that you would glory in enduring any privations ; 
 in making any sacrifices, that you saw required by her necessities. I 
 am sure, that w r ere an armed force to invade our shores, you would meet 
 them with the alacrity, and oppose them with the enthusiasm of an Em- 
 met; and that you would repel them at the hazard and even the sacrifice 
 of your lives. 
 
 "But, thank Heaven, such service is not likely to be required at your 
 hands. Thank Heaven, your country does not call you to put on your 
 swords and bucklers; to leave your cheerful homes, to feel the fury of 
 ' grim visag'd' war ; to engage in conflict with ensanguined hosts, and to 
 die, perchance, in defence of what you hold most dear. 
 
 "But she calls loudly upon you to arouse yourselves from those de- 
 lightful reveries, in which you feast upon visions of splendor and happi- 
 ness ; to leave your bowers of ease, and to gird yourselves up for the 
 cultivation of her moral husbandry ; a Herculean labor, indeed ; but then 
 how rich a harvest will suceed and reward it ! 
 
 " Here are wild and pestilence-breathing passions, Pythian monsters, 
 whose destruction would immortalize an Apollo, to be chained or destroy- 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 65 
 
 ed ; sinks of corruption, Augean stables to be cleansed ; the secret and 
 crooked ways of intrigue, labyrinths more intricate than the work of Do- 
 dulus, to be laid open and straightened ; the rough places of animosity to 
 be smoothed ; the chasms worn by sectional interest to be filled ; the 
 deep, dark, dank thickets of ignorance to be penetrated and removed, and 
 the many weeds of error, which have sprung up in those thickets, and 
 grown with a black luxuriance to be carefully extirpated and burned." 
 
 "I need not labor to show you, what increased power, combinations 
 or concerted actions, give to the production of any desired change, 
 whether for good or for evil ; whether in science, politics, morals or reli.-*- 
 gion. It has been the chief study of despots to prevent, and their greatest 
 difficulty to resist and destroy them. On the contrary, the patriot and 
 the philantropist, have ever zealously sought their aid, in weakening 
 the arm of oppression, and in mitigating the curses of evil. Nor are 
 they of less power and efficiency, in matters of science. For proof of 
 this, I need only refer you to the grand results, which are manifestly 
 due to the learned societies of England, France, and Germany. How 
 much dignity have they lent to scientific pursuits ; how many ingenious 
 investigations; how much profound research; and how many highly 
 useful discoveries, have been occasioned by a zeal and emulation, en- 
 gendered by them ! In such zeal and emulation, it must, with shame, be 
 confessed, that the professedly scientific gentlemen of America, have 
 been, with hardly an exception, sadly deficient. Truth, indeed, will not 
 allow me to ascribe all of this deficiency, to the want of a society, simi- 
 lar to those, to which I have referred. For our professedly scientific 
 gentlemen are, nearly all of them, presidents and professors, in our col- 
 leges and schools. And you must have observed, what I here affirm 
 to be true, that they have, too frequently, been called to the stations 
 which they occupy, not by reason of their eminent devotion to science ; 
 nor for their eminent scientific attainments. They have, for the most 
 part, been selected from those who had attained to deserved celebrity, in 
 their profession ; but who, when elected, were less qualified for their pro- 
 fessorships, as far as scientific attainment is a qualification, than they 
 were at the time of their graduation. They have been appointed, with 
 a view to benefit the college, rather than the students ; for the weight of 
 character, and, by consequence, the number of students which they could 
 bring to the institution, rather than for the amount of science, which they 
 were fitted to impart to the pupils. But this is not all. Almost as soon 
 
 9 
 
66 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 as seated in their professorial chairs, they have sought and indulged in 
 all the ease which their situations afforded. They have done no more, 
 than they were obliged to do, to be respectable. By a common consent, 
 they have refrained from disquieting each other, and so have slept on. 
 While they have been studious to avoid invidious comparisons between 
 themselves, they seem to have been content to be a little more learned 
 than their pupils, or others who were not, like themselves, presidents 
 or professors. And this has been very easy ; for the acquisition of wealth, 
 or of political distinction, has so much employed the talents, and occu- 
 pied the time of those others, as to have prevented them from acquiring 
 so much science, as would enable them to disturb the self-complacency, 
 or interrupt the ease of our public instructors. Now I am conscious, that 
 if I make an entirely general . application of these animadversions, 1 
 shall do some injustice. There are a few, who are ambitious of some- 
 thing more than an easy situation, and an empty name at home ; who 
 desire to elevate our standards among all classes; and to be distin- 
 guished, and make our science respectable abroad. These are prevented 
 from traversing, very extensively, those fields of knowledge, which have 
 already been well explored by others ; and, much more from penetrating 
 unknown regions and making original discoveries, by reason of their al- 
 most constant employment in teaching. Such should receive honor and 
 sympathy, rather than contempt and censure." 
 
 " It can not be otherwise, than that a select corps, composed of the most 
 gifted and scientific young men from all parts of our country ; placed in 
 some central and conspicuous situation ; content with the competence and 
 distinction which their station will confer upon them ; and devoting them- 
 selves, without interruption, and with great responsibilities, to scientific 
 pursuits, must make a proficiency honorable to themselves, and exert 
 an influence highly beneficial to our country. From their great acqui- 
 sitions ; the mode of their appointment, and their relation to the different 
 Associate branches ; they will acquire a respect, and exert an authority 
 which, while they will concentrate and regulate effort, will create an 
 emulation, that will greatly advance our science. Our presidents and 
 professors will thus receive an impulse, which will be transmitted from 
 them to their pupils, and efficaciously felt through all grades of educa- 
 tion, and through all ranks of society among us. An action and a reac- 
 tion will thus be created, followed by the best results. At length, in- 
 stead of being sneered at from abroad, for having no scientific character, 
 we shall be highly respected for one ; and our savans, instead of follow- 
 
OF PROFESSOa AVERlLL. 67 
 
 ing, longo intervallo, et baud passibus aequis, in the footsteps oi' others, 
 will be enabled to walk honorably by their sides, and to sustain a suc- 
 cessful competition with them, for scientific distinction. Instead of form- 
 ing a wretchedly barren province of the republic of letters, and of being 
 incapable of independent existence, as we hitherto have been, we shall 
 acquire the importance, and be allowed the powers, privileges, honors 
 and dignities of a sovereign state. Although now we are not, we then 
 shall be competent to prepare scientific works to be used by ourselves, 
 and to be sought for and respected abroad. Our National Society will 
 thus form a rich fountain, whence will flow copious streams of know- 
 ledge, which will be fed by kindred rills, and be distributed through a 
 thousand channels, bearing light and purity through every part of our 
 community. 
 
 " Now I can not sufficiently express to you, the deep sense that I feel 
 of the peculiar and vital importance to us, as a free people, of that in- 
 creased attention to learning and the arts, which such a society would 
 effect. I confess that I do not understand, or can not reconcile, with 
 either wisdom or patriotism, the language of those who endeavor to dis- 
 suade from attempts to elevate our standards of education, by assurances 
 that our country is not ready for them. What! shall we leave our peo^- 
 pie to become turbulent and factious through a want of extended, and 
 enlightened, and liberalizing views? Shall we leave them to trifle with, 
 and to cast away their liberty, for the want of sufficient knowledge to 
 appreciate its value, and to desire its permanency? Shall we expose 
 them to the ruinous machinations of adventurers and demagogues, by 
 our feeble efforts to give them that intelligence, which would enable 
 them to judge correctly, of the designs and measures of their rulers? I 
 know that the currents of the affections of our people, set with almost an 
 irresistible impetuosity, to other objects than to science and the arts. I 
 know that pomp and plenty; wealth and power; are the idols to which 
 the creatures of the times do most fervently bend their devotions. I know 
 that their innumerable projects; their restless and bustling activity, for 
 gratifying their avarice and ambition, seem incompatible with the quiet 
 pursuits of knowledge. They are so : but shall the philanthropist and 
 the patriot, who see these things, and perceive their tendency, fold up 
 their arms, and leave the proper field of their exertion, saying that the 
 country is not ready for their labors? Shall they refrain from- effort until 
 ambition shall be glutted with supremacy ; until wealth shall bave be- 
 gotten luxury and corruption ; and till science and the arts shall only be 
 handmaids to vice? I trust that you will not. I conjure you by all which 
 
68 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 you prize, in our free institutions ; by your regard for human virtue and 
 human happiness, and for your own dignity and safety, not to yield to 
 such discouraging suggestions ; hut to be untiring in your efforts to ac- 
 complish the difficult, yet glorious purposes which you have proposed to 
 yourselves. A society composed of such materials, and instituted in 
 such a manner, and with such relations as that which you have project- 
 ed, would possess an incalculable power to direct public opinion, and to 
 change the objects of public pursuit. Will you fail to employ it, in im- 
 proving the condition, and in brightening the prospects of our country- 
 men ; in alluring them to science and to virtue ; and in causing them to 
 feel, that wisdom is the principle thing, and that she only can bring them 
 to true honor ? 
 
 " Besides these effects which our society is calculated to have upon 
 our education, and through it upon our morals, there is one other which 
 it is eminently suited to produce, and which, in the present state of our 
 country, would be of the very highest importance. I mean a good un- 
 derstanding, and a firm attachment between states which are remote 
 from each other. While they, by their augmented intelligence, would 
 be better qualified to judge of their mutual interests and claims, there 
 would be in the society, a representation from those states, uninvolved in 
 petty politics, unbiassed by local prejudices, and untramelled by heated 
 and misguided constituents, which would be able, most independently, 
 dispassionately and wisely, to discuss those hitherto angry questions, 
 which have arisen out of those interests and claims, and to decide them, 
 if they can be decided, to the acceptance of the people. 
 
 '* Gentlemen, I have enumerated but few of the advantages, which the 
 Associate Society affords to you and to the educated young men of our 
 country, in the discharge of those momentous duties, which devolve upon 
 you and them. I am conscious that I have not done justice to those, 
 which I have enumerated. But I may not detain you longer. If I have 
 at all deepened your sense of responsibility ; if I have given you any 
 encouragement or impulse to endeavor to fulfil the design, which you 
 have so wisely, and patriotically formed, I have attained a very impor- 
 tant object. And now in view of what you have done, and what you 
 propose to do, 1 can not better conclude than in the words of Cicero : 
 Quamobrem pergite, ut facitis, adolescentes, atque in id studium, in quo 
 estis, incumbite, ut et vobis honori, et amicis utilitati, et reipublicae emo- 
 lumento esse possitis. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVER1LL. 69 
 
 The following letter from Professor Park, of the Uni- 
 versity of Pennsylvania, was written in acknowledge- 
 ment of the receipt of a copy of the Address. Profes- 
 sor Park was deeply interested in the success of the 
 Association, and indeed may be regarded as its founder: 
 
 Professor C. Aver ill. 
 
 NEWPORT, FEB. 9, 1832. 
 My DEAR SIR 
 
 I have just finished the perusal of your Address to the Associate 
 Society of Schenectady, and need not say how much I have heen grati- 
 fied in the sentiments which it inspires, the energy it infuses, and the 
 encouragement it presents to all the Associates, in a cause of which we 
 need not be afraid or ashamed. I could have wished that the paragraph 
 relating to the Literary Convention, and that in which my name is men- 
 tioned, had not heen printed, as we are invited to he on terms of amity 
 with the Convention ; and, moreover, we may be deemed by the public 
 too much interested in our own cause, to be qualified to pass judgment 
 upon it, or its opponents and advocates. In the other sentiments of your 
 Address I most cordially concur, and am indebted to you for an intellec- 
 tual banquet of no ordinary kind. 
 
 Allow me to suggest, if it be not supererogatory, that it would be highly 
 proper that each of the Associate Societies should receive one or more 
 copies. It would give renewed confidence to the other Societies to learn 
 that they are to receive so much support from yours. 
 
 I have been fully convinced, since I saw you last, of the necessity of 
 making the Societies immediately useful, each in its own sphere, em- 
 bracing all the various objects of the various local societies, so frequent 
 in towns and villages. To those who prefer lectures and addresses, these 
 may be given as in the lyceums ; to those who love warm debates, a 
 field will be opened as in debating societies, &c. &c. Different meet- 
 ings may be appointed for these different objects, thus developing all the 
 talent of a neighborhood but all in connection with the Associate Soci- 
 ety. By thus covering the whole ground, we obviate the necessity of 
 more new societies ; we induce those already formed to unite with us, and 
 unite the citizens of each district in the most friendly relations. As the 
 societies spread and knowledge is diffused, we may begin to look more to 
 our ultimate objects the building up of a National Academy of truly 
 
70 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 learned men, selected by those who are best qualified, and the extension 
 of national literature and seience. 
 Very truly, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 ROSWELL PARK. 
 
 His other publication was a " Treatise on the Dis- 
 infecting Powers of Chlorine," written and published 
 during the prevalence of Asiatic Cholera, at the request 
 of the Hon. John I. DeGraff, then Mayor of Schenec- 
 tady. The readiness with which this valuable tract 
 was furnished, (for it was written, printed and in cir- 
 culation within four days of the Mayor's letter of re- 
 quest,) is a proof alike of his prompt benevolence, of 
 the extent of his knowledge, and of the facility with 
 which he could command and apply it. 
 
 From Professor Sttliman, of Yale College. 
 
 NEW-HAVEN, JULY 19, 1832* 
 PROFESSOR AVERILL 
 
 DEAR SIR : I have just received and read with great satisfaction, 
 your printed letter to Mr. DeGraff, on the Disinfecting Powers of Chlo- 
 rine. Cleanliness, sobriety, firmness in the discharge of duty, and a set- 
 tled confidence in, and submission to, Divine Providence, are undoubt- 
 edly our best preservatives from this dreadful pestilence. Still, no wise 
 man will neglect the use of the means of prevention which science may 
 discover, or accident throw in his way ; and it would be, indeed, a most 
 unfortunate retrograde step, to abandon the use of Chlorine or of its pre- 
 parations. The facts cited by you, are sufficient to satisfy any mind 
 open to the admission of truth, and were there occasion, a host of similar 
 facts might be adduced. I have enclosed some, drawn from my own 
 observation, w r hich, if they should tend to strengthen the favorable im- 
 pression which must have been produced by your Treatise upori the mind 
 of your chief magistrate and the public, please to communicate to him 
 with my respects, which you will also accept for yourself, from, 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 B. S1LLIMAN. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 71 
 
 It has been justly considered a subject of regret, that 
 he did not publish more. Like all men of well-regu- 
 lated and progressing minds, he wrote much and sys- 
 tematically. In examining his papers, I have been 
 greatly surprised at the mass of interesting and accu- 
 rately written compositions he has left behind him. 
 His common-place book was always at hand, and is a 
 store-house of valable and curious knowledge. He 
 carefully preserved probably every composition that he 
 ever wrote. While reading a favorite book, Coleridge's 
 Biographia Literaria, he often observed to me, that a 
 frequent review of one's intellectual history must be 
 one of the most effective modes of acquiring a perfect 
 education. In this remark we doubtless discover his 
 motive in treasuring up, so carefully, these early pro- 
 ductions. It is believed, that, from the examples al- 
 ready given, many of them will be acknowledged to 
 possess distinguished merit. Some are pervaded by a 
 vein of humor of great richness and Addisonian deli- 
 cacy. In others are condensed statements and appli- 
 cations of the knowledge he was gradually acquiring, 
 and all are marked by that characteristic good sense, 
 and freedom from extravagance, which belonged to all 
 his views, and all his intellectual operations. His lec- 
 tures on chemistry, botany and mineralogy, are, how- 
 ever, the most voluminous, perfect and valuable of his 
 compositions. They contain complete statements of 
 all the ascertained facts, relations, and theories of those 
 important sciences; and often, as some prospect of 
 peculiar interest is opened into the arcana of the ma- 
 terial world, he breaks out in strains of beautiful and 
 
72 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 eloquent expression, or develops some impressive illus- 
 tration of the doctrines of natural theology. 
 
 Yet the incessant engagements arising out of his 
 connection with college, prevented the cautious and 
 rigorous revision of his productions, which publication 
 required. We have, therefore, only to regret, that we 
 have no more monuments of the masculine, practical 
 and learned mind, which produced the Address before 
 the American Association. 
 
 But it is probable that another cause combined with 
 the want of time, to prevent such preparation for the 
 press, as would be satisfactory to his own fastidious 
 judgment. Distinguished, as Professor Averill was, for 
 what is commonly termed good sense, the character- 
 istic feature of his mind was a rare combination of 
 great reasoning power, with an active and far-reaching 
 imagination. The exact sciences, attention to which 
 consumed the greater part of his time, were not the 
 most in accordance with his prevailing tastes. He 
 delighted most in productions of imagination, and in a 
 moral and mental philosophy, based upon exalted, and 
 perhaps somewhat extravagant views of the dignity 
 and capabilities of aian. His favorite literature was 
 poetry his favorite classic was Plato his favorite 
 contemporary author was Coleridge. That these fond- 
 nesses never resulted in a visionary and inefficient sen- 
 timentalism, or a contempt for, and neglect of, com- 
 mon duties, is sufficiently proved by the even and use- 
 ful tenor of his life. Sir James Mclntosh has said of 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVEIULL. 73 
 
 Bacon, that " the quality in which he most excelled all 
 other men, was in the range and compass of his intel- 
 lectual view the power of contemplating many and 
 distinct objects together, without indistinctness or con- 
 fusion. This wide-ranging Intellect was illuminated 
 by the brightest Fancy, that ever contented itself with 
 the office of ministering only to Reason. And from 
 this singular relation of the two grand faculties of man, 
 it has resulted, that his philosophy, though illustrated 
 still more than adorned by the utmost splendor of im- 
 agery, continues still subject to the undivided su- 
 premacy of intellect. In the midst of all the prodi- 
 gality of an imagination, which, had it been indepen- 
 dent, would have been poetical, his opinions remain 
 severely rational." Something of this rare species of 
 relation subsisted between the intellect and the ima- 
 gination of Professor Averill. He derived intense de- 
 light from the contemplation of a picture, and from 
 the study of the history of human nature, especially in 
 its more striking and picturesque attitudes. But the 
 "supremacy of intellect" continued "undivided." 
 Fancy furnished, or at least contributed to furnish, his 
 high resolves, his extended views of his own obliga- 
 tions, and the capabilities of his race; his elevated 
 standard of moral and intellectual effort, and instead 
 of enfeebling the claims of inferior duties, imparted to 
 the minutest among them, a greater importance from 
 their connection with the destiny of a moral and ac- 
 countable being. The two faculties were precisely 
 balanced the one ever arousing and stimulating, the 
 
 10 
 
74 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 other calmly and correctly executing. Such a com- 
 bination of mental powers, was favorable to any spe- 
 cies of effort: but the prominence of Imagination ren- 
 dered exertions in the regions of literature and philo- 
 sophical criticism, more natural and congenial than in 
 those to which his labors were chiefly confined. 
 
 In August, 1835, he was married. This event con- 
 tributed alike to establish his domestic happiness, and 
 greatly enhance his intellectual enjoyments. It intro- 
 duced him into close intimacy with one of the most 
 accomplished social and literary circles in America. 
 He now possessed all the essential elements of earthly 
 bliss. His industry and talents, had obtained for him 
 an income adequate to the supply of all his wants. He 
 enjoyed, in an eminent degree, the confidence and res- 
 pect of the virtuous and the learned. He had become 
 distinguished in a profession, which he was pursuing 
 from inclination, and now in the full enjoyment of do- 
 mestic bliss, he found a companion who appreciated his 
 worth and character, and sympathized with all his tastes 
 and feelings. But all his anticipations of deep and en- 
 during happiness, were doomed to deep and bitter dis- 
 appointment. Tendencies to pulmonary consumption, 
 began to be developed early in the winter before the 
 last; and a year had scarcely elapsed, from the day of 
 his marriage, before his emaciated remains were de- 
 posited in the grave his wife a widow and his child 
 an orphan. 
 
OF PROFESSOll AVERILL. 75 
 
 This is not the place or the occasion to tell a tale 
 of domestic woe, or of the conduct of noble minds 
 under its infliction. 
 
 With regard to that which is, after all, the point of 
 greatest interest in the character of an immortal and 
 accountable being, his religious feelings and opinions 
 it is my happiness to assure his friends, that he died 
 showing every indication of being at peace with God. 
 During a long and most intimate friendship, the blame- 
 less tenor of his life, the frequency and unostentatious 
 nature of his deeds of charity, his punctilious respect 
 for the holiness of the Sabbath, and his daily study of 
 the Sacred Scriptures, were facts so prominent and 
 constant, that I never hesitated to refer them to the 
 instigation of religious principle. With a mind so 
 independent, as on no question of science, or other 
 worldly interests, to be willing to succumb to the in- 
 fluence of authority, he yet bowed, with humility and 
 reverence, before every declaration of the Bible, and 
 listened, with a child-like simplicity, to the humblest 
 exposition of Divine truth. Convinced by the weak- 
 ness of his constitution, which gathered no strength as 
 he advanced in years, that his hold on life was ex- 
 tremely precarious, and severely disciplined by the 
 chastening hand of God in some afflictive domestic 
 bereavements, he had learnt, for a long time previous 
 to his death, to look upon the interests of the future 
 life as the great objects of human concern, and 
 
 "To walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast ocean, ho must sail so soon." 
 
76 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 His enlightened and unwavering faith in the truth 
 of Revelation, he neglected to profess openly before the 
 world. And let those who would set a limit to their 
 obedience to the wliole will of God be informed, that 
 while, during his last illness, he was uttering repeated 
 declarations of an implicit, unreserved reliance in the 
 atonement which the Son of God had wrought out for 
 his redemption, and in the efficacy of that blood of 
 Christ which cleanseth from all sin, tMs was the of- 
 fence which continued to press most heavily upon his 
 conscience. " Should it be the Divine will," he said, 
 "to restore me to health, it shall be my first business 
 to repair a fault, which, under any circumstances is 
 sinful, but which in my case is peculiarly so. I have 
 labored with zeal to discharge my duties to the belov- 
 ed pupils committed to my care, and I have reason to 
 believe that so far as intellectual and moral improve- 
 ment is concerned, God has blessed my endeavors with 
 success. But how shall I atone for the consequences 
 of withholding the influence of my example on a sub- 
 ject by the side of which all other subjects sink into 
 insignificance." This was the only circumstance 
 which disturbed the tranquillity of his death-bed. His 
 resignation to the Divine will the fervor of his devo- 
 tions the firmness of his faith and the confidence of 
 his hope, were the rich consolations which God im- 
 parted to his bereaved family, when he inflicted upon 
 them the most overwhelming of all sorrows. 
 
OF PROFESSOR AVERILL. 77 
 
 And they are our consolation. And not only so. In 
 my attempt this evening to pay this humble tribute of 
 respect to friendship, to talent and to worth, I would 
 not that these religious features had been wanting in 
 the character which I have endeavored to portray. 
 One of the most striking results of the introduction of 
 Christianity into our world, is the entire revolution it 
 has wrought in our estimate of human character. 
 The religious principle is a new element in the com- 
 position of moral greatness more than this it is the 
 chief characteristic element. The architect may con- 
 struct his edifice of faultless beauty; but if he would 
 have his work strike with overpowering effect upon 
 the imagination of the beholder, let him, through it, 
 awaken some association with the destiny of man, 
 and by consecrating it to the glory of Jehovah, convert 
 it into a fountain of sacred feeling, and of thoughts 
 which reach forward into eternity. It is so with the 
 human soul. It is, though in ruins, still a noble fabric. 
 But the only feature of nobility which it retains, is its 
 relation to God and immortality. So long as man's 
 anxieties and hopes are fixed exclusively upon the 
 interests of the present life no matter with how 
 much intensity no matter with what impressive ef- 
 fect upon the partial and shortsighted witnesses of his 
 puny success his glory is yet but as a fading flower ; 
 and when his course is ended, the fragrance and the 
 beauty are both gone for ever. Man is immortal ; and 
 he only who feels and acts with reference to this great 
 
78 DISCOURSE ON THE CHARACTER 
 
 fact, can justly claim the tribute of our admiration, 
 for lie only feels and acts as b'efits his destiny, 
 
 " The wise man, says the Bible, walks with God ; 
 Surveys far on the endless line of life ; 
 Values his soul ; thinks of eternity ; 
 Both worlds considers, and provides for both; 
 With reason's eye his passions guards ; abstains 
 From evil; lives on hope, on hope, the fruit 
 Of faith; looks upward; purifies his soul; 
 Expands his wings and mounts into the sky ; 
 Passes the sun, and gains his father's house, 
 And drinks with angels from the fount of bliss." 
 


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