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LECTURES AND ADDRESSES, 
 
 \ 
 
 BY REV. JOHN DEMPSTER, D. D. 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 CONTAIlSriNG THE FUNERAL SERMON AND MEMORIAL 
 SERVICES OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH 
 OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 EDITED BY REV. D. W. CLARK, D. D. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY POE & HITCHCOCK, 
 
 CORNER OF MAIN AND EIGHTH STREETS. 
 
 R. P. THOMPSON, PRINTER, 
 1 864 . 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, 
 
 BY POE & HITCHCOCK, 
 
 In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of Ohio. 
 
3 33 
 
 EDITOE’S PEEFAOE. 
 
 It was our good fortune, in a casual visit to our 
 venerable friend some months before his death, to 
 secure from him the promise that he would make a 
 collection of his lectures and addresses for publica- 
 tion. Not long after, a package containing the 
 promised articles was received. But scarcely had 
 we gone through them, when the sad intelligence 
 broke upon us that John Dempster was dead. It 
 was all the more startling from the fact that it had 
 never seemed to enter our thought that a man of 
 such iron will and with such large plans, in which 
 he was still working with all the vigor of youth, 
 could die in the midst of his unfinished work. The 
 sudden death of the author devolved upon the edi- 
 tor a responsibility and a labor not anticipated at 
 the outset. But he trusts that he has so accom- 
 plished thisvtask as to meet the .approval of the 
 friends of the Doctor, and of the Church. 
 
 Away back, thirty years ago, we remember to 
 have heard accounts of most thrilling scenes trans- 
 piring under the ministry of Dr. Dempster. In 
 
 those times he rode around the large districts of 
 
 1 
 
2 
 
 editor’s preface. 
 
 Central and Northern New York like a flame of 
 fire. Immense congregations attended his ministry. 
 His preaching swayed the masses as the waving 
 grain bends before the gale. If those sermons could 
 have been caught as they fell from his lips, and 
 daguerreotyped with the living spirit with which 
 they flowed from him, then might we have before 
 us the living, breathing John Dempster in ail the 
 might of his early manhood. 
 
 The best substitute is that afforded by this vol- 
 ume. It contains his missionary addresses and his 
 mature thoughts embraced in his lectures to his 
 theological students. They are marked by the pe- 
 culiarities of his style of thought and diction. 
 
 As the esteemed author passed away from earth 
 to heaven, while the work was yet in the hands of 
 the printer, we have added an Appendix, containing 
 the funeral discourse by the Rev. Dr. Eddy, and the 
 memorial services subsequently had in the Clark- 
 Street Methodist Episcopal Church, Chicago. This 
 last feature of the work will be peculiarly accept- 
 able to the friends of the deceased at this time; and 
 will also be of permanent interest, as it enables us 
 to embody much of his personal history, together 
 with graphic delineations of his character. 
 
 Western Book Concern. 
 
 D. W. C. 
 
OOITTElSrTS. 
 
 I. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 The Ministerial Call : A Discourse addressed to the Members 
 of the Biblical Institute, Concord, N. H., February 23, 1854... 13 
 
 II. 
 
 The Characteristics of the Age in their Demands on the Min- 
 istry : An Address to the Alumni of the Biblical Institute, 
 Concord, N. H., November 2, 1854 41 
 
 III. 
 
 Divine Providence : A Lecture delivered before the Members of 
 the Biblical Institute, Concord, N. H 76 
 
 lY. 
 
 Truth : An Address delivered before the Literary Societies of the 
 Biblical Institute, Concord, N. H., November 2, 1852 127 
 
 Y. 
 
 On the Authority of the Supernatural: An Address to the 
 Graduating Class of the Garrett Biblical Institute, 1860 161 
 
 YI. 
 
 On the Supernatural Characteristics of Christ : A Lecture to 
 the Students of the Garrett Biblical Institute 
 
 175 
 
4 : 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 VII. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 On the Importance of Locating a Biblical Institute in the 
 West; An Address delivered at Concord, N. H 189 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Teacher’s Parting Word: An Address to the First Gradua- 
 ting Class of the Garrett Biblical Institute 199 
 
 IX. 
 
 Man Individual — Man Social : An Address delivered before the 
 Literary Societies of the Upper Iowa University 207 
 
 < i 
 
 X. 
 
 On the Use and Importance op Mental Culture : An Address to 
 the Students of the Garrett Biblical Institute 225 
 
 XI. 
 
 A Charge to Rev. Br. Foster; Delivered at his Inauguration as 
 President of the North-Western University 237 
 
 XII. 
 
 A Baccalaureate Address; Delivered to the Graduating Class of 
 the North-Western University for 1862 253 
 
 XIII. 
 
 A Review of the Westminster Review: A Lecture delivered, 
 by Request, to the Students of the Garrett Biblical Institute 
 in 1858 273 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Character as Connected with Success in the Sacred Office ; An 
 Address to the Graduating Class of the Garrett Biblical Insti- 
 tute for 1859 293 
 
I 
 
 CONTENTS. 5 
 
 XV. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Grounds op Ministerial Success: An Address delivered to the 
 Graduating Class which had finished its Course in the Garrett 
 Biblical Institute 305 
 
 XVI. 
 
 A Missionary Address: Delivered on the Occasion of the De- ^ 
 
 parture of Rev. Mr. Baume and family for India 315 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Field op Missions : An Address delivered before the Mis- 
 sionary Society of the Theological Seminary of Chicago 339 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A Missionary Address : Delivered on the Departure of Rev. J. R. 
 
 Downey and wife for India 343 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Missionary Work: An Address delivered on the Departure 
 of Rev. P. T. Wilson as a Missionary to India 355 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Gospel only Adapted to Eppect Man’s Redemption: An 
 Address delivered before the Missionary Society of Lawrence 
 University 361 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Gospel the only Agency that can Elevate the Pagan Na- 
 tions : A Missionary Address 375 
 
6 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 I. FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Preached on the Occasion op the Death op Dr. Dempster, 
 
 AT Evanston, III., December 1, 1^63, by Rev. Thomas M. 
 Eddy, D. D 3 
 
 II. MEMORIAL SERVICES. 
 
 HELD IN THE CLARK-STREET METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, CHICAGO, DEC. 10, 1863. 
 
 1. Dr. Dempster as a Minister, by Rev, E. D. Hemenway 33 
 
 2. Dr. Dempster as a Missionary, by Rev. D. P. Kidder, D. D. 42 
 
 3. Dr. Dempster as a Student and Thinker, by Rev. Henry 
 
 Bannister, D. D 60 
 
 4. Dr. Dempster as an Instructor, by Rev. C. H. Fowler, A. M. 58 
 
 5. Dr. Dempster as a Man op Progress, by Rev. 0. H. Tip- 
 
 FANY, D. D 63 
 
I^TTEODUOTION'. 
 
 Dr. Betiiune lias well said that ^^he who writes 
 successfully for America writes for the world.” 
 
 It is doubtless not only the privilege but the duty 
 of him who can write effectively to write. And as 
 the press is now the conservator of thought, it is 
 the duty of those who control it to seek out and 
 seize upon words of worth and treasure them, if, 
 after the rubbing and testing, they shall prove to 
 be gems suitable to be labeled and laid up in the 
 world’s cabinet for the use of all who shall read 
 hereafter. In the prosecution of these duties the 
 following book has naturally enough resulted. 
 
 Not panegyric is needed to give permanency to a 
 book, but rather patient submission to the wearing'; 
 for if it contain exact truths, compressed in fairest 
 forms, it must live, and each separated sentence be 
 entitled to its quotation marks forever; and if not, 
 the untruth must perish, and the rest only serve as 
 material for future thought-molders. 
 
 Methodist ministers have written few books ; they 
 
 7 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 have doubtless contributed less to the general fund 
 of literature than any other body of men of equal 
 ability. They have had a mission to fulfill, and 
 have labored ^^in earnest” to accomplish it well. 
 Their labor has been for"^the salvation. of souls, not 
 the getting of gain or the renown of scholarship; 
 to meet the present demands rather than to receive 
 the meed of future gratitude. They have extem- 
 porized, but have not published. Hence, our most 
 useful and efficient ministers have left us only verses 
 instead of volumes, and shreds instead of sermons. 
 
 This has been true, in a most eminent degree, 
 with the author. While in his active ministry he 
 often thrilled thousands as few in any land have 
 ever been able to do; yet these most touching and 
 powerful sermons exist only in their undying effects. 
 It is with greater pleasure, therefore, that this book, 
 which a change of life-labors alone has secured to 
 us, will be welcomed by those who best know its 
 author. It will be an added reason for heart-felt 
 gratitude to God for having raised up so powerful 
 an educator among us, and directed him into that 
 course of life ^Hor which he justly merits the title 
 of Founder of Theological Schools in the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church.” 
 
 The book, at this time, is opportune. The words 
 of Bacon — In the youth of a State arms do ffour- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 9 
 
 ish; in the middle age of a State, learning; and then 
 both of them together for a time” — appear to receive 
 something of confirmation by the rapidity with which 
 books are multiplied, in the face of all discourage- 
 ments, to meet the increasing demand. Especially 
 is the demand great for books of this class. The 
 cry is for addresses and sermons, and for such ,.as 
 discuss important topics, and examine the first prin- 
 ciples of religious belief and moral action. 
 
 This book contains such a selection of missionary 
 and literary addresses as will be most interesting as 
 well as most profitable and precious to all. 
 
 The missionary addresses are associated with 
 times and characters that are very dear to many, 
 and the charges delivered to the brave young her- 
 alds of the Cross, as they have gone forth, evince 
 such a thorough acquaintance with mission fields, 
 such a comprehension of all their difficulties and 
 discouragements, and such a high appreciation of 
 their just claims and future destinies, as prove them 
 to be the earnest utterances of one who knows, exper- 
 imentally, whereof he affirms. In the tenderness and 
 trust with which he commits his pilgrim pupils into 
 the care of Him who holds the sea in the hollow 
 of his hand, one reads the father as well as friend. 
 
 In the Farewell Words to the Graduating Classes 
 are faithful warnings of errors to be encountered. 
 
10 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and the shams and pretensions which, in an age of 
 activity and inquiry, it is the difficult duty of the 
 scholar-minister to defend against. 
 
 Here are other lectures giving truer views of 
 study and superior methods of mental culture. The 
 student arises from their perusal fired with the fixed 
 fact that if he would wield the weapons of Milo of 
 Crotona in the Olympias, he must meet or bear the 
 ox-weight upon his shoulder; like that athlete, he 
 must begin early and labor late, avoiding the frenzy- 
 flights and desperation which bound the giant, not-’ 
 withstanding his brazen sinews and iron bones, to 
 the tree as a prey for the wolves. Another lecture 
 would cultivate Truth, before which Error can no 
 more stand than Satan before the spear of Ithuriel. 
 
 Providence and science are brought to view as 
 thoughts of God manifested in his works. The 
 whole universe becomes a temple of the living 
 God — the star-fields its lighted dome — the earth its 
 altar, consecrated by the residence of the Eternal 
 Son — the blended fragrance of flowers its incense — 
 wind, wave, and thunder its choral harmony, and 
 MAN ITS Priest and w^orshiper. 
 
 These writings will make one feel firmer in his 
 belief in the great teachings of Christianity. Not 
 that the foundation is here tested, and all its evi- 
 dences elaborated, but because Suggestion marshals 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 11 
 
 those proofs already' in the mind, and those under 
 the command of Kecollection are drafted into service. 
 
 Some, books/’ we are told, ^^are to be tasted, 
 others swallowed, and some few are to be chewed 
 and digested.” It is certainly true, then, that those 
 be read wholly, with diligence and attention,” 
 are those written when ^4earning hath” passed ^^its 
 infancy, when it is but beginning; its youth, when 
 it is luxuriant and juvenile,” into ^^its strength of 
 years, when it is solid and reduced.” 
 
 ^^It is strange,” says Bacon, ^4iow long some men 
 will lie in wait to speak somewhat they desire to 
 say, and how far about they will fetch, and how 
 many other things they will beat over to come near 
 it;” but no one ever applied this to the author. 
 His power of piercing a subject to its ^4ast analysis,” 
 and stating ^he results in their concisest form, has 
 long been acknowledged. 
 
 The present volume, though not involving the 
 abstract and metaphysical, as do most of the Doc- 
 tor’s writings, will yet be found to have, as a se- 
 quence of its paternity, such precision as excludes 
 all filling in,” and makes each sentence and word 
 in it a bearer of good. 
 
 Precision of style does not necessarily make tire- 
 some reading, as this book will prove. Especially 
 under the full flow of thought and feeling, animated 
 
12 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 by the fire-derived adjectives and infused zeal of the 
 author, does it find directest avenue to the heart. 
 
 Since a Presentation of the author to the public 
 is not demanded, and since this is a book particu- 
 larly valuable to thousands of young men, it 'may 
 not be, from every consideration, inappropriate that 
 even a humble student should write its beginning — 
 one who may experimentally say, I know that it 
 will breathe nobler notions of life's labors, and nerve 
 one for a truer ministry that shall meet the de- 
 mands of the age." 
 
 At least I may express the hope that each Alum- 
 nus will be so grounded in these truths as to exhibit 
 the opposite to that student of Seneca — at one time 
 so charming by his gentleness, and so guiltless, 
 when first clad in the Eoman purple, that he burst 
 into tears, crying, Would to God that I had never 
 learned to write!" when compelled to sign a death- 
 warrant; but who, by vicious pleasure and persua- 
 sion, became his mother’s murderer, and used his 
 high ofiice for the destruction of the life and liberty 
 of the State. 
 
 Let the lessons of teachers and the love for our 
 Alma Mater be ever among our new and necessary 
 thoughts, and lead us in the way of patriotism and 
 happiness to purity and heaven! N. H. A. 
 
 Evanston, III., August 2G, 1803. 
 
LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE MINISTERIAL CALL: 
 
 A DISCOURSE ADDRESSED TO THE MEMBERS OF THE BIB- 
 LICAL INSTITUTE, CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, 
 FEBRUARY 23, 1854. 
 
 And after he had seen the vision, immediately we endeavored 
 to go into Macedonia, assuredly gathering that the Lord had called 
 us for to preach the Gospel unto them.’’ , Acts xvi, 10. 
 
 The peculiar occurrences recorded in connection 
 with this passage suggest the general remark, that 
 the Divine mode of indicating human duty is almost 
 limitless in its variety. All the reasons of this may 
 not now be open to our scrutiny; but the fact is 
 every-where patent to the observing eye. It ap- 
 pears in that whole series of instruction by which 
 the Divine Teacher would advance the race. Every 
 department of knowledge, whether natural or re- 
 vealed, admits of the application of the principle ; it 
 regards what we are called on to believe, and what 
 we are required to perform. 
 
 The context furnishes a striking instance of pe- 
 culiar direction in ministerial duty. The minister 
 
 13 
 
14 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 directed was St. Paul, whose whole history had been 
 of a peculiar type. It details voices and visions in 
 earth and heaven, by which his apostolic course of 
 matchless heroism and success was unerringly di- 
 rected. 
 
 In the instance before us, he was approached, at 
 a midnight hour, by a spectral messenger, with a 
 solemn request. The voice was Macedonian ; it had 
 a most sententious utterance. The language was 
 enigmatical. It was not, ^^Come and preach to us 
 the Gospel — shed on Macedonia the morning light 
 in which you are now bathing the moral creation;” 
 but simply, ^^Come over and help us," The in- 
 volved meaning was understood to be, ^^Come and 
 proclaim to us salvation, and expound to us the 
 terms of its reception.” 
 
 This mode of enjoining a special ministerial duty 
 illustrates a general probationary principle — one 
 which is applicable to the entire economy of time. 
 What is there in all the hopes lighted up along our 
 pilgrimage, in all the conflicts which make life a 
 field of battle, or in all the requirements of which 
 the entire, system speaks, which involves not this 
 principle of dim or hidden import ? The certainty 
 which flashes on moral questions, disclosing all their 
 meaning, must appertain to another state; it can 
 not coexist with the mingled lights and shades of 
 this twilight abode. The single exception to this 
 procedure is in the interference of miraculous 
 agency. The period of this has ever been restricted 
 
THE MINISTEEIAL CALL. 
 
 15 
 
 to the establishing of a new religion. When that 
 had been accredited, voices from heaven died 
 away — the hand of miracles was withdrawn from 
 human affairs, and the Divine administration re- 
 sumed its even and wonted tenor. This difference 
 palpably appears in the ministerial call. The apos- 
 tolic call came in no equivocal impulse, or nightly 
 dream, or mysterious vision ; but in emphatic terms, 
 by the living voice of the risen Kestorer: or it 
 came, as to the smitten persecutor, from mid air, 
 attended by a sound from beyond, where the 
 thunder sleeps — by a light outvying the Asiatic 
 sun. 
 
 But the rushing wind and tongues of fire have 
 long since ceased to accredit the ministerial voca- 
 tion. While the fundamental facts of the new re- 
 ligion were purely miraculous in their nature, it 
 was fit that the commission of its first propagators 
 should, in this distinctive, entirely harmonize. It 
 was ulso fit that this great element should fade 
 from the call of their successors, just as the hand 
 of God gradually withdrew its miraculous interpo- 
 sition which had indicated their commission. 
 
 The cooperating action of the agent and subject, 
 inseparable from all spiritual duties, can never be 
 absent from the ministerial commission. The living 
 voice could not be the appointed channel of success- 
 ful truth, were not the sympathetic power of the 
 speaker intended to imbue that truth. Now, as 
 
 this power and that truth can perfectly combine 
 ^2 
 
16 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 only under a heavenly impulse on the heart, the 
 sacred functionary can never dispense with it. It 
 is, then, not the miraculous, apostolic call here to 
 be investigated; but that common to the holy office 
 in all ages of the Church since that of miracles 
 expired. 
 
 Our text may suggest the matter , manner , and 
 object of preaching, together with circumstantial 
 indications of the times and places of our ministry. 
 But the occasion will restrict our attention to the 
 CALL and PIOUS qualifications of the ministry. 
 
 Permit me, then, my young ministerial brethren, 
 earnestly to address this discourse to you in the 
 order here indicated, begging your special atten- 
 tion, 
 
 I. To THE Minister’s Call. 
 
 The topic chosen is too broad a subject for 
 thorough investigation in a single sermon. The 
 elucidation of a few points involved in it is all 
 at which this attempt can aim. 
 
 In discussing the ministerial call to the sacred 
 office, attention will first be directed to some of the 
 prerequisites to that call. 
 
 That personal experience of regenerating grace 
 sustains to it such a relation ought here to be as- 
 sumed. The refining power of Christian truth on 
 the moral man has been accredited by so many ages 
 as now to claim the position of an adjudicated ques- 
 tion. Nor can it require profound research to per- 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 17 
 
 ceive tliat no power in the universe can bring an 
 unchanged heart into harmony with a single element 
 of the ministerial character. Every demand of that 
 character would be on a class of emotions of which 
 such a heart had never been the subject. Indeed, 
 the statement is not too sweeping which asserts 
 every thing to be indispensable to the ministerial 
 character which is essential to the Christian char- 
 acter. Between these two characters exists the 
 relation of species and genus. The ministerial 
 must be adorned with every supernatural charac- 
 teristic of the Christian, while this is without a 
 single one which is peculiar to the ministerial. 
 Though personal piety, then, is no part of the 
 minister’s character, no agency in the universe can 
 make him a minister without such piety. It is a 
 Divine maxim, of ever-enduring force, that “the 
 blind can never lead the blind” without periling 
 the safety of both. 
 
 Another prerequisite to the ministerial office is a 
 fervid desire for the world's salvation. This is one 
 of the phenomena of that new character with which 
 regeneration adorns its*subject. It is the legitimate 
 emanation of that pure fountain unsealed by the 
 Infinite Spirit in the renewed heart. But, though 
 this new-born ofispring of regeneration is never 
 absent when that saving change occurs, yet there 
 is no indemnity, in the structure of the mind or in 
 the grace it experiences, against the v/aste of its 
 intensity. The perpetuity of this desire, in its 
 
18 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 original vigor, depends on other conditions. These 
 must be fulfilled with fidelity, or the heart of the 
 man and the functions of the minister will become 
 the fiercest antagonisms. This desire, then, which 
 is the instant offspring of renewing grace — which 
 emerges from the changed heart like a star from 
 the depths of heaven — can never cool in its ardor 
 without becoming a disqualification for the sacred 
 office. It was the flame of this desire in ^ which 
 dying love expressed itself on Calvary. It is im- 
 possible the disciple should be so unlike his Lord as 
 not to kindle into kindred emotion. But if, from 
 its very nature, this be inseparable from Christian 
 experience, how can it be dispensed with in minis- 
 terial functions? Though this desire does not make 
 the minister, he can not be made without it. Be- 
 longing to every disciple, male and female, through 
 the whole range of Christendom, how can he be 
 without it whose office is to fan it to an intenser 
 flame? The mightiest throbbings of a Savior’s love 
 is a fundamental qualification for the Savior’s work. 
 
 The sufiiciency of an agent’s qualifications can be 
 adequately tested only by their correspondence to 
 the functions assigned him. The minister’s work 
 lies in two distinct spheres of probational mind — in 
 the emotional and intellectual departments. Such 
 is the moral nature of our species as to be the thea- 
 ter of all religious experience. Without this nature 
 all felt religion would be as impossible to us as to 
 the time-pieces we wear. And as the demands and 
 
THE MINISTEEIAL CALL. 
 
 19 
 
 processes of our moral powers can be known only 
 experimentally, how can the minister cultivate this 
 only strictly-religious field in the universe without 
 having had it cultivated in himself? By no possi- 
 bility can moral nature, moral truth, and moral 
 government be severed, or substituted, or trans- 
 posed. It is to the moral universe that the minis- 
 ter’s high commission chiefly relates him; and as 
 the richest class of this order of truth is experi- 
 mental — that to which all other truths look for- 
 ward — the minister’s pious affections should be the 
 last in his whole emotional nature remaining dor- 
 mant. But the depth, extent, and growth of his 
 piety mu»t be exhibited elsewhere. 
 
 Another preparative to the ministerial call is 
 found in a preparation in nature — an inherited 
 power of communicating truth connectedly. The 
 requisitions of the Scriptures on the ministry clearly 
 involve this ability: bishop must be apt to 
 
 teach” — must have the power to communicate to 
 others what himself has learned. This capability 
 may be wanting in the presence of other very rich 
 mental endowments; the ability of clear perception, 
 vigorous judgment, and of powerful reflective en- 
 ergies, may b^ present, while that is absent. The 
 sacred office demands this, while it can not dispense 
 with those. The minister must be able to transfer 
 to other minds the thoughts of his own — to make 
 his conceptions theirs, and thus open the channels 
 through which his own emotions shall become the 
 
20 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 property of other bosoms. We not unfrequently 
 meet with a mind capable of molding its desires 
 into words, of appropriately expressing isolated facts, 
 or of stating a simple conclusion, but capable of 
 going no further. Such a min'd can not retrace the 
 steps by which it reached the conclusion; the very 
 attempt issues in confusion; the longer it is con- 
 tinued the darker the chaos; every struggle en- 
 hances the perplexity, till utter gloom involves the 
 whole. How could such an intellect reason? How 
 could it communicate thought consecutively? How, 
 without logical discernment, could it wield logical 
 argument? How could it instruct, by public ad- 
 dress, without the power of laying hold on the con- 
 necting principle which gives unity to a discourse — 
 without ability to trace the links of that -chain 
 which binds the exordium to the sermon, and the 
 sermon to the conclusion — without that perceptive 
 power which can place thought in such order as to 
 give it ever-growing strength? A mind, deeply 
 stamped with this logical destitution, can never 
 have been divinely summoned to the ministerial 
 office. Still must we cautiously discriminate be- 
 tween this destitution being real and only apparent. 
 Many a mind of "superior logical strength at first 
 appeared invested with no such element. This 
 power was there, though not disclosed; education 
 developed it. The mind itself may have been un- 
 aware of its presence ; it may have eluded the 
 scrutiny of associates till rigid discipline or some 
 
THE MINISTEEIAL CALL. 
 
 21 
 
 stirring event roused it from slumber, and quick- 
 enec^ it into action. Never should the candidate be 
 prematurely disheartened, or rashly rejected. In- 
 domitable efforts, made in the spirit of self-reliance 
 and God-reliance, wield all but a creating power; 
 they have elicited, from the unknown depths of ap- 
 parently barren minds, faculties which have enriched 
 the treasures of thought, and adorned the age that 
 gave them birth. Never, therefore, till the most 
 resolute, untiring efforts have proved fruitless, 
 should the candidate relinquish the hope of suc- 
 cess. But when the logical power can be evoked 
 by no amount of perseverance, let him know as- 
 suredly that the work of the pulpit has not been 
 divinely intrusted to him. 
 
 Other arguments, to enforce the importance of 
 this qualification to the ministry, are superseded by 
 the inspired direction given to Timothy, to commit 
 what he had learned to faithful men, who should 
 be able to instruct others.” Indeed, this ability to 
 communicate truth instructively is involved in al- 
 most every Scriptural reference to the sacred func- 
 tions. These are comprehensively included in that 
 primary commission, ^^Go ye and teach all nations.” 
 This high command could never be executed by 
 proclaiming unconnected facts, or stating isolated 
 truths, or solitary conclusions. To teach the Gospel 
 scheme is to communicate connected, systematic 
 truths — to exhibit it in its relations, demands, and 
 purposes. 
 
22 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 The very structure of the human mind prohibits 
 a narrower import to the great commission. All 
 the intellectual laws demand the systematizing of 
 truth, to replenish the mind with knowledge. Why 
 else would all classes seekA^uth in the broad field 
 of analogy, in the transpiring events of Providence, 
 and in the history of departed generations? Why 
 else is no mind satisfied in the knowledge of a fact 
 cut off from all its relations? Or why should every 
 thing that presents itself to man do so in the form 
 of a system^ so that no event in the. compass of 
 thought can ever be found alone? Why should all 
 the mental faculties be related for systematic opera- 
 tion, and all the physical and moral worlds be cor- 
 respondently constructed, and yet the sublime truths 
 of the pulpit not be so taught? 
 
 In accordance with these unmistakable indications 
 is the most familiar experience. That determines 
 truth to be powerful, other things being equal, as 
 its parts are connected; this is so subjectively and 
 objectively — to the speaker and to the auditor — to 
 the mind that apprehends it and to the listener that 
 hears it. Each moral truth, composing a series, 
 may be very insufiicient in its evidence, and yet 
 that evidence become resistless when converged 
 from every part of that series to one focal point. 
 Now, this inherent susceptibility of moral truth, 
 of receiving accumulating evidence, and this mental 
 structure demanding such combination, decide for- 
 ever the demand on the ministerial instructor, and 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 23 
 
 give profounder emphasis to the apostolic requisition, 
 that he must be able, to instruct others'' 
 
 Now, this power, in its germinant state, to grasp 
 and communicate truth, classified in the form of 
 principle, is never the gift of education or of mira- 
 cle, but of nature; it is not acquired^ but inherited. 
 The office of discipline is not to originate, but to 
 cultivate — not to create, but to improve. This 
 preparation in nature is one of the preparatives to 
 the sacred office. 
 
 The intellectual attainments indispensable to the 
 office are not added to this list — not because they 
 are to be supplied or superseded by miracles, but 
 because they are afterward attainable. Who, with- 
 out a perverted view, can deem the ministerial call 
 entirely retrospective, touching this class of quali- 
 fications? Why should Providence, in this case, 
 depart from all analogy to the usual mode of its 
 operations? Why should it not conspire with grace 
 to give the candidate indications of his future work 
 as an incentive to present preparation? It is the 
 fact that adequate faculties have been inherited, and 
 not the extent to which culture has unfolded them, 
 which is preparatory to the call. 
 
 But let us inquire, 
 
 II. In what the Call to the Ministry con- 
 sists ? 
 
 When the pulpit is viewed in the grandeur of its 
 
 purposes — to secure the conversion or seal the per- 
 
 3 
 
24 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 dition of the race — its occupant can not be deemed 
 an uncommissioned agent. Were he, like King 
 Uzziah, to enter the house of God an unaccredited 
 priest, he would be in danger of going out, like 
 him, a perpetual leper. 
 
 Ages there have been of fearful midnight gloom, 
 which have sought the basis of the ministerial voca- 
 tion in the monstrous fable of prelatical succession. 
 This utter blindness, which confounded the institu- 
 tion of Aaron with that of the Christian ministry, 
 can not long hold its ground against that exegetical 
 movement which is now unfolding the dispensations 
 of God. Nor can the imposition of consecrating 
 hands, any more than lineal descent, constitute the 
 ministerial call; on knaves and novices such hands 
 have been laid — on such as were wolves and not 
 shepherds. It is true there is a large sense in 
 which Christian truth may be taught by all its 
 votaries as unrestrictedly as science and literature; 
 but this license amounts not to ministerial authority. 
 For reasons abounding in the Scriptures God desig- 
 nates, anoints, authorizes his ministers. Though 
 every peculiarity of the Levitical and prophetical 
 offices has vanished with their departed dispensa- 
 tion, the general principle underlying their appoint- 
 ment still remains, and can never lose its force 
 while the existing ordinances of the Church endure. 
 Because the institute of Aaron perished in his great 
 antitype, and the prophetic office found its grave in 
 the completion of the sacred canon, we by no means 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 25 
 
 infer the abolition of the great appointing princi- 
 ple — that by which God designates, and has ever 
 designated, chosen men for sacred offices. Another 
 modification occurred, in the application of this 
 principle, when the hand of miracles was withdrawn 
 from the Church. That there is nothing in the re- 
 lations between the human mind and the Spirit of 
 God precluding their direct intercourse, religion, 
 under all dispensations, directly assumes. For ages 
 that voiceless instructor communicated ideas with 
 all the force and precision of the most expressive 
 language. The completion of the sacred volume 
 was the termination of this kind of inspiration, but 
 not of all inspiration. Though it has recorded in 
 that volume all the divine instructions needful for 
 the race, it has not imparted all the influence need- 
 ful for the application of those truths. Its former 
 functions were to communicate truths which should 
 guide the faith of coming generations; its latter to 
 move men experimentally to embrace that truth, 
 and ministerially to proclaim it. In ecclesiastical 
 language, it makes men feel ^Ghat they are in- 
 wardly moved by the Holy Ghost to take upon 
 them the sacred office.” 
 
 This profound impression on the candidate’s heart, 
 urging him to the ministerial work, is an indispens- 
 able element of the ministerial call. . This may never 
 amount to that intellectual communion between the 
 mind and the Spirit which would furnish the former 
 new thoughts, clothed in appropriate words; it may 
 
26 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 never add a single idea to liis previous store of 
 thought, or a solitary word before unknown to him, 
 and yet find ample scope in his other faculties to 
 impart the ministerial call. 
 
 The Spirit's function is not to impart to the man 
 a message, but to prompt him to proclaim that 
 which is as old as the Gospel; not to teach him 
 what to say, but to incite him to reiterate what has 
 been sounding through all the ages of our era. 
 
 Our mental range is far too limited to allow of 
 ‘our restricting the Spirit's agency on the human 
 mind. As we have no beam of light to guide our 
 researches into the manner of its operations, we 
 must be content with the evidence of facts, viewed 
 in the light of consistency. All we dare to assert 
 
 is, that it never reveals to the individual ministerial 
 mind what it has revealed to the Church in the 
 sacred canon; that it never suspends, infracts, or 
 inverts the mental laws; that it never employs the 
 intellect to feel, or the sensibilities to think, or 
 either to determine, but acts on the mind in ac- 
 cordance with the constitution which God has given 
 
 it. As by this very structure the whole region of 
 the intellect and sensibilities is passive, the Infinite 
 Agent can act on them to any extent without im- 
 pinging on the ground of responsibility. His agency, 
 then, on the minister's mind, can be restricted, only 
 by previous revelation, and by the divine purposes 
 of the ministerial call. How much the intellect is 
 implicated in this sacred impulse on the feelings no 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 27 
 
 attempt is made to determine; all that is asserted 
 is, that the ministerial call is never without this 
 impulse. His duty must be a felt duty; the in- 
 tensity of feeling will graduate the vigor with which 
 it will be achieved. To the commissioned herald, 
 that inspired inquiry, ^^How shall they preach ex- 
 cept they be sent?’' is loaded with significancy. 
 He knows that being sent implies more than the 
 consecrating imposition of human hands — more than 
 ravishing conceptions of revealed truth — more than 
 a burning desire for man's moral rescue; that while 
 it implies all these, it implies something more than 
 these: it implies that more than man or angel has 
 indicated his duty — that God has mysteriously com- 
 muned with him by an impulse adapted to the in- 
 spection of consciousness, but not to the expression 
 of words. 
 
 In harmony with this private indication of duty 
 will be the public recognition of the Church. In 
 this regard the first age of the ministry was unlike 
 any after age. From the necessity of the case, the 
 incipient ministry of the apostles was independent 
 of the Church, which as yet had not an ecclesias- 
 tical existence; it, of course, could have no part in 
 creating that agency which was afterward to give it 
 existence. But, as the nature of this necessity could 
 allow it only a temporary existence, the first state 
 of the ministry could be no criterion for its per- 
 manent guide. While the Divine Founder of the 
 Church was present in person, all authority of the 
 
28 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 Church in recognizing the ministry was superseded. 
 
 Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel 
 to every creature,” endowed them with plenary 
 authority. It made the functions of the ministry 
 personally binding on them; they demanded of men 
 a recognition of their official character by virtue of 
 this authority which had invested them. But when 
 the opened heavens had received the Master from 
 his disciples, and those whom he had in person 
 commissioned had finished their ministry, new re- 
 lations sprang up between the Church and the min- 
 istry. When that radiant age of plenary inspiration 
 had rolled away — when the heavenly voices and 
 visions were over — the ministerial authority ceased 
 to come miraculously from Heaven, but that office 
 required the approving voice of the Church. This 
 is not inverting the order in which these relations 
 were first established, but greatly modifying it: the 
 dependence of the ministry on the Church, in other 
 respects, requires it should need the confirmatory 
 voice of the Church. As no ministry could long 
 advance, in the prosecution of its aggressive com- 
 mission, without support from the treasury and 
 countenance from the Church, that body must 
 either sustain every pretender to a divine mis- 
 sion, or have a controlling agency in determining 
 who has received it. 
 
 In pressing the necessity of this ecclesiastical 
 recognition, let me not be misunderstood. It is 
 not affirmed that this is, in all possible circum- 
 
THE MINISTEEIAL CALL. 
 
 29 
 
 stances, indispensable. In the days of general apos- 
 tasy, large divisions of the nominal Church may be 
 so utterly void of vitality as to reject the applicant 
 for its approval on the very ground that he pos- 
 sesses divine qualifications. An example of this is 
 found in almost every great reformer, and in the 
 noblest sufferers at the stake; such should ^^obey 
 Grod rather than man.’' They should cooperate 
 with the Infinite Spirit, though not recognized by 
 a single voice on earth. They should do it in the 
 light of the kindled fagots, and in the midst of the 
 thunders of priestly anathemas. Even then should 
 they advance with an intrepid step, unawed by the 
 most fearful blow impending to crush them. 
 
 But though it is a sublime virtue of the most 
 gifted spirits to thus toil against the interdict of a 
 fallen Church in the face of consuming flames, it 
 furnishes no justification for neglecting the voice of 
 the Church when that body is in its ordinary purity. 
 In this state the ministry, as the messengers of the 
 Church, should await its solemn behest; it should 
 deem her voice in harmony with God’s command. 
 
 Such is the person’s divine impulse to the min- 
 istry that a direct knowledge of it is entirely con- 
 fined to his own consciousness. But while this 
 inward knowledge of his call can belong only to 
 himself in its very workings, indications of its 
 reality will appear to others; the impulse felt in 
 himself is felt through him to others. Though this 
 high charge was privately committed to his trust. 
 
I 
 
 30 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 yet, like any other deep-seated principle, its work- 
 ings put the fact in the possession of the public. 
 That profound impression of connected truth' made 
 on his faculties will unavoidably be self-revealing. 
 His communication of consecutive truths, bathed in 
 the radiancy in which his own spirit is kindled, 
 will never permit his call to remain a secret. The 
 Church will know it, earth and heaven will know 
 it, and, except in the dark hour of Satanic assault, 
 no doubt of it will ever shade his own mind. 
 Nothing can be transferred which is not possessed. 
 As in lithography the stone can impart no impres- 
 sion till it has received it, so is it in the speaker’s 
 communications to other minds; he can no more fail 
 to transfer his own emotions than he can kindle 
 them in other bosoms when they are not in his own. 
 It is this state of commissioned mind which makes 
 it desire the office of a bishop;” it desires the 
 office, not the title of a bishop, not the emolument 
 of a bishop, not the lordly sway of a bishop, but 
 the hazardous work, the strenuous toil of a bishop. 
 Its aim will be immeasurably higher than what glit- 
 ters before the eye of vanity, or cupidity, or am- 
 bition; for these that mind pants with an eagerness 
 unknown even in the fiery chase of ambition. It is 
 no more possible that a message could come from 
 such a heart, without revealing the truthfulness of 
 its source, than that the light of noon should be 
 self-concealing. It is never perplexing to determ- 
 ine whether the minister performs his work as 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 31 
 
 the patient enters on his course of medicine, deem- 
 ing it a less evil than the disease which it is to 
 vanquish; or whether he does it, as the hungry 
 take food, with the intensest appetite. No, the 
 kindled thoughts on fire within him will move his 
 lips to powerful utterance. The majesty of his 
 theme will be his inspiration; the vision of eternal 
 realities which has burst on his view makes the 
 sphere of his conceptions too bright to allow the 
 hearers to doubt of his commission. The Church 
 needs no art of the casuist to settle the question of 
 his call; this is readily adjudicated on the authority 
 of infallible signs. It will appear in every truth 
 that leaps from his opened lips in public; so that 
 the divine voice which called him sounds through 
 him, calling the Church to a recognition of his 
 commission ; and, in accrediting him, the voice 
 from earth harmonizes with that from heaven. 
 
 Your attention is next directed, 
 
 III. To THE Devotedness required by the 
 Ministerial Vocation. 
 
 ^ The conviction of the holiness of this calling has 
 never been the peculiarity of one age. It has swept 
 over all ages; its antiquity is higher than that of 
 the sanctification of Aaron’s sons; it runs back to 
 the mysterious priest of the Most High God, who 
 met and blessed the fathers of the faithful. The 
 basis of this all-pervading conviction lies deep in 
 the recognized nature of the office. No degree of 
 
32 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 devotion corresponds to its nature but that which 
 is supreme — that which excludes all motives which 
 would rival the love of Christ. To the choice of 
 other professions men may fitly be incited by the 
 combination of various motives ; but this would 
 vitiate the ministerial office. That office excludes 
 professional eminence, greater emolument, higher 
 social connections, facilities to the pursuits of litera- 
 ture, and whatever else may be secular in its char- 
 acter. All these, as leading incentives, are abso- 
 lutely excluded from the holy office. The minister’s 
 work is the work of Grod; to perform it, therefore, 
 from any of these motives can not make it some- 
 thing else; but it would make his character some- 
 thing else, and thus abolish all correspondence be- 
 tween the office and the officer. The master-spring 
 to ministerial character is faith; the motive, there- 
 fore, for assuming it must be within the unseen 
 territory of faith. Cecil arranges these incentives 
 into three classes: the rush of thousands in the 
 gulf of flame — the Restorer’s dying love for their 
 rescue — the appointment of ministerial instrument- 
 ality to make that love availing. These compre- 
 hend a minister’s incentives — ^^a fourth idea would 
 be a grand impertinence.” 
 
 If entire devotion to Christ’s work involves un- 
 qualified submission to his will, then does it exclude 
 all mixed motives, all conflicting motives, and all 
 suspension of holy motives. It requires obedience 
 to what Christ has commanded, in the manner he 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 33 
 
 has commanded, and because he has commanded it. 
 His complete submission to his Father's will is the 
 never-changing pattern for his servants’ obedience; 
 his mind must be in them. The conviction of this 
 has the certainty of an intuitive flash — the strength 
 of a first principle — a power transcending demon- 
 stration. How is it possible to doubt whether the 
 same Spirit which wrought man’s redemption by 
 price must imbue those instruments of his redemp- 
 tion by power? 
 
 It, then, has the clearness of vision that but one 
 class of ministerial motives can be paramount; all 
 others competing for this rank are antagonistic. 
 
 But how shall we fairly test our motives for be- 
 coming ministers ? Who has ever attempted to 
 analyze these ethereal states in their light and flying 
 shades' without finding them eluding the most pierc- 
 ing eye of introspection ? Here is a demand for the 
 severest scrutiny. Ho amount of mere emotion can 
 be a safe test. This may be nimble and changeful 
 as Summer gales; it may be dark and strong as the 
 Winter storm, and yet act only on the soul’s surface. 
 The inner man, seated far deeper, may remain in 
 untroubled repose. Low down in the depths of our 
 nature are often the hiding-places of our motives. 
 How shall they be evoked, and placed fully before 
 the inspecting eye? Not by supposing what para- 
 gons we should be — what Godlike deeds we should 
 achieve, were scope given to our pent-up moral 
 energies; not by gilding our future career by the 
 
34 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 creative lights of fancy. Our relation to the future 
 renders our coming character a contingency. The 
 hero that vaunts in the fireside circle is not the last 
 to exhibit the coward on the grim edge of battle. 
 The moral splendor of future achievements is not 
 unfrequently ^Hhe stuff of which dreams are made.’' 
 That noble daring, that lofty self-sacrifice on which 
 we purpose in future, may vanish like the sleeper’s 
 vision when the future becomes the present. The 
 living present can never be apart from the true test 
 of character. The only pertinent question is, What 
 am I now ? This searching inquiry should pass like 
 lightning through all the attitudes and relations of 
 my present character. Do I now live disinterest- 
 edly? Is my strenuous toil for others? Do I now 
 value human salvation above human applause? Do 
 I now act for Christ as though the whole universe 
 contained not another incentive to action? Does 
 this master principle, which absorbs itself in the 
 endless good of others, now absorb every living 
 power of my being? The prospective existence of 
 these states can never be confounded with their 
 present existence. That bright future may be 
 peopled only with the creatures of a fancy-loving 
 brain. 
 
 But not only may our imaginary selves in future 
 dangerously misguide us, but our former selves may 
 be an equally deceptive standard. What has a re- 
 membered consciousness of self-consecration to do 
 with a present consciousness of it ? This substitu- 
 
THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 
 
 35 
 
 tion is full of peril; it is the assumption of the im- 
 mutability of human goodness, the truth of which is 
 disproved by the most significant pages of man’s 
 moral history. It is disproved by the most start- 
 ling gleams of light which have broken in on angelic 
 history. The terrified universe may know that an- 
 gels have sunk into devils — that the first human son 
 of Divine love became a child of God’s wrath. 
 
 After these events, at first so strange, how can 
 the mutability of human character be incumbered 
 with a shadow of doubt? How often, in later rec- 
 ords of the most eminent piety, has ^Ghe gold 
 changed and the fine gold become dim !” How 
 many a noble heart in the brightest array of Christ’s 
 servants, under the sway of motives which would 
 honor an angel, has been mysteriously transmuted 
 into directly the opposite ! How fatal, then, the 
 fallacy of reasoning from the past to the present, 
 in the belief that this heavenly grace grows in the 
 heart like the star lighted up in heaven, without 
 being fanned by the eternal breath that kindled its 
 fires ! All should know that this supernatural glow 
 in the heart is enduring only as it is perpetually 
 fed by the oil of grace. The danger of this divine 
 change is measured by the fierceness of the moral 
 conflict. The divine oracles speak of this probation- 
 ary struggle with startling emphasis. They call it 
 an agony to be endured — a race to be run — a battle 
 to be fought — an antagonist to be vanquished. They 
 pronounce the conflict to be with ^^principalities 
 
36 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 and powers/' and assume the certainty of the field 
 being lost unless we are guarded with the panoply 
 of God^ and our vigilance he sleepless. 
 
 In this high conflict the soul must often fall back 
 on those profound principles, familiarity with which 
 consists only in a deep insight into those viewless 
 motives which are furthest from the careless eye. 
 Should some ethereal historian depict what has 
 transpired in the hearts of God’s most eminent serv- 
 ants, nothing would so arrest us as an exact cor- 
 respondence between the depth of their agony and 
 the glory of their ministry. The severity of their 
 conflict would be the measure of their success. 
 Both Testaments are replete with illustrations of 
 this principle ; nor are they wanting in the recorded 
 experiences of God’s most eminent ministers in after 
 ages. 
 
 What one function belongs to the ministerial office 
 not demanding the deepest spirituality? The whole 
 character calls for a high controlling piety — a living, 
 energetic, all-conquering piety — one that imbues the 
 heart, the life, the studies, the habits, the whole 
 man. This principle must sway the minister with 
 the power of a passion. He can have no substitute 
 for this living, glowing spirit — for^a heart throb- 
 bing and flaming with restoring love. Nothing 
 else within the compass of thought can disclose to 
 him the soul’s worth, or gird him with power to 
 snatch it from the gulf; nor can any thing else in- 
 vest him with that harmony of character which 
 
THE MINISTEEIAL CALL. 
 
 37 
 
 sheds the light of consistency over all the various 
 events of his history. From his manner it will put 
 to flight all artifice, all affectation, all assumed dig- 
 nity. It will ally to him naturalness, simplicity, 
 earnestness — the unaffected air of sublime philan- 
 thropy. The light of assurance will never fade from 
 his path; it will grow in its intensity till it shall 
 reach the maturity of perfect day. He will under- 
 stand how the fact that God has spoken involves the 
 obligation that man should cease to doubt. 
 
 This depth of pious devotion makes his ministry 
 more availing, also, by its strengthening operations 
 on his intellect. Who can number the mutations of 
 that light which looms up from earth's interest? 
 Who knows not that its bewildering glare leads 
 millions to measures subversive of their own aim — 
 that it is only the beam which falls on our path 
 from the eternal sun, which, like its source, is never 
 changing? Under this influence, the sweeping pur- 
 pose of self-consecration, bringing all the faculties 
 into continued and concentrated action, their utmost 
 strength is employed. In this simplicity and immu- 
 tability of purpose resides the mightiest executive 
 power; it is the sole remedy for that blighting dis- 
 ease — fitful efii^ort. This has extinguished half the 
 glory of the finest geniuses of the race. That 
 change of pursuit which is the eclipse of the soul 
 has wasted the energies of many a gifted spirit. 
 The devotion in question is a security against this 
 unsteadiness of aim, which has scattered and baffled 
 
38 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 those angel powers. Alliance to God is stability of 
 purpose, and this girds the soul with the combined 
 strength of its ever-growing powers. It gives dis- 
 tinctness of aim, fixedness of purpose, vigor of will, 
 patience and perseverance in execution, and thus 
 does it impart the utmost strength of character. 
 The soul, under the dominion of this ruling pur- 
 pose, pressing all its faculties to bear on one point, 
 advances toward its object with a momentum which 
 sets itself on fire. The conviction is ever upon it, 
 like an angel-hand, that it has one thing to do. 
 Toward the accomplishment of this it advances on 
 an air-line, under the obligation of principle, blended 
 with the ardor of passion. 
 
 It is impossible too strongly to illustrate the 
 truth that piety is essential to the ministry. No 
 postulate can be clearer — no truth more momentous. 
 What ministry was ever effective, no matter how 
 intelligent, without strong faithj true spirituality j 
 profound earnestness ? The discipline of the heart 
 is even more momentous than that of the intellect. 
 There is the seat of impulse, the spring of energy, 
 the fountain of eloquence. Faith and utterance 
 vrere never disjointed; the energy of the one is sup- 
 plied by the power of the other. ^^We believe, and 
 therefore we speak;” not merely what we believe, 
 but as we believe. A weak believer was never a 
 strong preacher. Whatever beauty and vigor may 
 be the attributes of thought, to have power it must 
 be bathed in the fire of feeling. Without this it 
 
I 
 
 THE MINISTERIAL CALL. 39 
 
 may be the glitter of the aurora borealis, but never 
 the vivifying beam of the fervid noon. 
 
 / None of you, beloved pupils, can so misconceive 
 the emphasis with which we enforce piety as to im- 
 agine we would exclude intelligence. Your teach- 
 ers are not of those who seem convinced that God 
 has more use for our ignorance than for our knowl- 
 edge. He could prosecute his work without either. 
 But while it shall please him to employ instrument- 
 ality, he will do it wisely, adapting means to ends. 
 He never fitted sound for the eye, or the light for 
 the ear, any more than he employs ignorance to in- 
 struct, or irreligion to promote piety. Why should 
 we impute to him distortion in the moral system 
 while we find the sweetest harmony in the arrange- 
 ments of the physical system? or why should we 
 rank ministers in the class of mere instruments 
 while their great Master holds them responsible for 
 their official fidelity? 
 
 While we denounce dull formality, stiff uniform- 
 ity, rigid routine, and pompous assumptions, we no 
 less reprobate mere fervor and everlasting repe- 
 tition. The minister's course lies as remote from 
 the contortions of epileptic zeal as from the death- 
 like numbness of the paralytic victim. It is no more 
 adapted to the frenzy of the one than to the mortal 
 calm of the other. His is a glow which kindles 
 without crazing his powers. It makes him seize 
 with iniuitive quickness on every fitting means, but 
 
 never to substitute them for the end. It makes 
 
 4 
 
40 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 him feel that he may have too little piety, but not 
 too much knowledge — that had he the lore of Bacon, 
 the genius of Tully or Demosthenes, still would he 
 need the mantle of Paul, or Peter, or John — he 
 would need the ^4ove of Christ constraining him.” 
 And . noWj my beloved brethren^ permit me, in 
 conclusion, to implore your most deep and delib- 
 erate attention to your sacred call and pious qual- 
 ifications, In whatever other pursuit you may err, 
 commit not the fatal blunder in this. Review the 
 whole ground of your callj I beseech you, once more. 
 You have marked with agony the inefficient manner 
 in which many a pulpit is now filled. Instead of 
 piercing, and thrilling, and agitating the listening 
 mass, it leaves that mass still stagnant. While 
 you can scarcely suppress the apprehension that 
 some other voice than God’s has called into such 
 pulpits their occupants, resolve, once for all, that 
 you will never swell their number — that you will 
 never ascend the sacred desk unbidden — that no 
 earthly hope shall lure you to it — that you will dig, 
 or beg, or starve rather than avoid it by choosing 
 the pulpit — rather than place yourself there as a 
 chilling medium to congeal the stream of life that 
 should flow to the perishing. 
 
II. 
 
 THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE IN THEIR 
 DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY: 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE ALUMNI OF THE BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, 
 CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, NOVEMBER 2, 1854. 
 
 Beloved Alumni, — We greet you, with thrilling 
 emotions, from your distant fields of labor, at this 
 former center of our common interests. Though 
 we meet at almost opposite points of our pilgrim- 
 age and vocation; though your work has just com- 
 menced, and mine is almost accomplished; though 
 your eye is chiefly on the glowing future, and mine 
 reverts to the struggles of the past; these discrep- 
 ancies are not out of harmony with a common sym- 
 pathy. Such a sympathy finds its basis in our 
 former relations. These must be adequate to sup- 
 port a mutual affection spanning the whole orbit of 
 life, and uniting its utmost extremes. Pure, tender, 
 and abiding must ever be those attachments having 
 birth in the mutual exchange of pious emotions. 
 But far surpassing affection must unite teacher and 
 pupil whose researches have long been directed to 
 the profound principles of eternal government. In 
 
42 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 such researches the teacher unavoidably transfers, 
 with the truths he illustrates, the emotions they 
 had kindled in his own bosom. Your own hope of 
 rescuing souls, by wielding the truth you should 
 master, generated a susceptibility of such emotions. 
 This made conceptions vivid, impressions deep, and 
 memory tenacious. In this awakened state of moral 
 powers, how facile was the transfer of that interest 
 felt in the truth to Him who illustrated it! The 
 presumption that this principle has operated on my 
 junior brethren present authorizes a bolder tone in 
 this address, and precludes apology for what might 
 otherwise seem out of harmony with the occasion. 
 It can not be unknown that the utmost effort of 
 the teacher to throw his pupils on their own re- 
 sources, to make them self-relying and God-relying, 
 can never prevent the transfer to them of much 
 that is peculiar to himself. Whatever is original 
 in the mode of his conceptions, in the manner of 
 his combinations, and in his imagery for illustra- 
 tion, will be reproduced in the mental workings of 
 the confiding student. This mental affinity between 
 speakers and hearers will embolden him, in his ad- 
 dress, to dwell on the Age, in view of some of^its 
 Chaeacteeistics, with eefeeence to its Claims 
 
 ON THE MiNISTEY. 
 
 The time when human agents enter on existence 
 can never be an unimportant element in their obli- 
 gations. Though their essential relations never 
 change, yet are they strikingly modified by the 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 43 
 
 apathy or agitation which may mark their times. 
 In the range of human history long periods have 
 elapsed having no character but that of prepara- 
 tives. Then has succeeded that rush of events 
 which, like the flashing light from the gathered 
 clouds, has followed the sleep of the elements. 
 Such is the age in which we are summoned to 
 act, and to direct attention to mere specimens of 
 its characteristics can not be unimpressive. Though 
 what is common to all ages produces a larger surface 
 of human interest than what is peculiar to any one 
 age, the positive importance of the latter can not 
 thereby be minifled. 
 
 All periods of human history have had their cor- 
 responding distinctions, and to know their signs is 
 incumbent on every minister who would best serve 
 his generation. How can that sublime career as- 
 signed him be fully completed without a thrilling 
 knowledge of what marks his times? 
 
 The fact that the millions we are appointed to 
 serve and save are a portion of that same humanity 
 which departed ages have swept aside, offers no 
 reason against the demand for new appliances. 
 This demand irresistibly arises out of the moral 
 forces encompassing us, which were unknown to 
 priority. What can be plainer than that an age 
 which has elements of its own must have instru- 
 ments of its own; must have an agency adroit to 
 wield these elements — to appropriate them to the 
 lofty aim to which they intrinsically point? What 
 
44 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 la»ge portions of an individuars history could be 
 transposed without confusion? No more could the 
 periods of successive generations without frustrating 
 Providential designs. In both progression is the 
 strongly-marked intention of the human allotment. 
 Nor can the student of history doubt whether, in a 
 momentous, sense, this has been the working of the 
 system. That delinquent individuals and particular 
 communities have taken retrogressive steps it is 
 impossible to doubt; but these have so palpably 
 flowed from the perversion of the system as to be 
 confirmatory of the onward tendency of all its legit- 
 imate workings. That valuable portions of human 
 experiences and of the inventions of genius have 
 fallen in oblivion, along the track of ages, we can 
 not doubt; but that these were of vastly less value 
 than accessions made to human knowledge is equally 
 certain. It were ungrateful to priority to question 
 the richness of its bequests to the present age; but 
 far richer still have been the acquisitions to which 
 these bequeathed treasures have introduced us. In 
 harmony with this great lesson of history is that 
 taught by the very structure of probationary mind. 
 
 This inward constitution evinces that man’s obli- 
 gations swell in their magnitude as ages accumulate 
 in their number; that with equal force does the 
 principle apply to successive generations as the mul- 
 tiplying years of individuals. Without intimating 
 that prior ages can not boast of finer monuments 
 of artistic taste than adorns the present age, it is 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 45 
 
 confidently affirmed that they have left no such 
 proofs of excellence in the useful arts or in moral 
 enterprise. These are now at an elevation of which 
 ancestry had no adequate conception. Though Prov- 
 idence has never ceased to aim at training the human 
 intellect and affections for a nobler future, that aim 
 is now more direct, and the moral forces employed 
 are now more powerful. It is true that the cloudy 
 vail concerning the future can be pierced by no eye 
 but Jehovah’s still, as his agency shapes events — 
 to whom there is no past or future — the study of 
 those events is a substitute for that prophetic shill 
 to which the depths of the future surrender their 
 secrets. Every stirring event is a page in the great 
 volume of Providence — one upon which we can not 
 close our eyes without the contraction of guilt. As, 
 then, we ascertain ^he intentions of God by the 
 events which transpire, your attention is invited 
 to a few of them as a specimen of those which 
 characterize our times. The first will be found in 
 the Profound Agitation of Eastern Mind which 
 
 IS NOW TRANSPIRING. 
 
 Those critical realms where the sun first gilded 
 the cradle of the species, had long reposed in that 
 death-like stillness generated by that idealism which 
 allows to the whole universe but a single agent. 
 The breast of those ancient nations on which this 
 incubus has pressed for ages begins convulsively to 
 heave by a secret power within. This self-agitation, 
 shaking the mighty mass, betrays an interior agency 
 
46 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 which can unfetter the tide of thought, and guide 
 itf fiery course. 
 
 The ministerial mind, rightly imbued with the 
 prophetic spirit of history, knows that this mighty 
 shaking will not be barren of results; that, whether 
 success or failure shall be the issue of the attempted 
 revolution in China, it must give birth to events 
 by which the nineteenth century must be deeply 
 marked. How can this breaking up of these mental 
 incrustations — this fearful agitation which is crum- 
 bling to dust the ancient gods of three hundred mil- 
 lions — how can such a phenomenon, which is almost 
 alone in man’s history, fail to attract that scruti- 
 nizing eye of God’s servants, which reads the signs 
 of the times? How can it fail to stir in their 
 bosom a Christian heart, which will pant to leap 
 on that long-benighted shore — which will yearn to 
 breathe the spirit of second life over that moral 
 valley of bleaching bones? Nor should these start- 
 ling events of the East restrict our attention to 
 those early seats of the race. Such as are trans- 
 piring in the Western realms of the Old World 
 should be read by God’s ministers with an eager 
 eye. 
 
 Every age which has removed European society 
 further from that midnight hour of our era, under 
 whose shades those institutions arose, has made 
 the incongruity between it and them more chafing. 
 It is unknown to no acute observer that incipient 
 decay has long been spreading through the secret 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTEY. 
 
 47 
 
 cement of Western civilization. It is utterly pre- 
 posterous to suppose human art can longer adapt 
 these institutions of the Medieval Age to the society 
 of this wondrous century. All the changes through 
 which these institutions have since glided leave 
 them separated from the present by an immense 
 chasm. A reconstruction of that civil system is, 
 therefore, inevitable. Whether this shall be effected 
 by the calm energy of legislative reform — which, in 
 England, has so far diminished the distance between 
 the extremes of society; or whether it shall be ef- 
 fected by the earthquake-shocks of bloody revolu- 
 tion, depends on the sphere previously assigned to 
 moral agencies. The hope is vain that any civil 
 interest forming a firm cement can much longer 
 constitute a uniting band which, like a common 
 heaven, will extend over the two extremes of Eu- 
 ropean society. To bridge this fearful gulf before 
 sanguinary violence shall render it impracticable, 
 belongs to Protestant Christianity. Those great 
 powers, now on the grim edge of battle, are not, as 
 formerly, arrayed under their respective banners of 
 the Greek, Eoman, and Protestant religions. An 
 interest of immensely less intensity has determined 
 their present position in the hazardous conflict. 
 Whether the ardor of the struggle will not dissolve 
 this weaker cement, and resolve the long-oppressed 
 society into its original elements, or whether the 
 crushing power of despotic rule shall not have a 
 
 sterner sway, nothing but the unerring future can 
 
 5 
 
48 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 determine. If the former, then the voice of human- 
 ity, louder than the voice of many waters, will 
 call for the holy agency of religion. If the latter, 
 then a more fearful upheaving is at the door, and 
 that agency will be charged with a still more 
 solemn trust. 
 
 Nor can we adequately appreciate the charaeter- 
 istics of our age without surveying the New Woeld. 
 Here are both conspiring and conflicting forces at 
 work. Such is their character as to demand the 
 agency of the pulpit even more than that of the 
 legislative hall. Some of these forces are charged 
 with elements of stupendous energy. They must be 
 transmuted by religion, or be subversive of its in- 
 stitutions; they must be subjects of its blessings, 
 or quench the hopes which have been kindled at its 
 altar. The great oceans bathing our eastern and 
 western coasts are not, as has been deemed, gulfs to 
 separate us from the degraded millions of the Old 
 World; they are highways along which these mill- 
 ions are rushing to meet on this new theater of 
 national probation. These representatives of more 
 than twenty nations streaming to the New World 
 are invested with almost every crude element of 
 character, and can be rendered harmless only by a 
 hand of the utmost skill and might. In the inten- 
 tions of Providence, how unique is this vast im- 
 migration! The event is solitary in man's history, 
 of the benighted nations coming to the ministry to 
 rebuke its long delay in going to them. This is a 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 49 
 
 new summons to ministerial action — a new theater 
 for the grandest achievements — a vantage-ground on 
 which the hand, and head, and heart have scope for 
 cooperation as they have never ^ad since ^Hhe in- 
 imitable twelve'' passed from their conflicts to their 
 crowns. Though this single glance at the mysteri- 
 ous energies operating on American society reveals 
 them only at one point, our limits admit of no more. 
 Nor will they restrict us to less brevity in attempt- 
 ing to exhibit the signs of the times in the fields of 
 science. 
 
 The severe revision to which many of the sciences 
 are forced to submit is full of significancy. Within 
 our own age the deepest thinkers have challenged 
 principles bearing on their face the indorsement of 
 ages of light. Instance the German philosophy, 
 which has dared to reconstruct the very system of 
 thought. Though that philosophy is without just 
 claim to novelty as a whole, it is strongly marked 
 with many features of originality. It has achieved 
 something for the science of psychology, and much 
 for the subversion of religion. Eevealed theology, 
 having been compelled by those theorists to abide 
 the fiery test of their wild philosophy, had little left 
 to its source — the sacred oracles — but the wisdom 
 of the sage or the genius of the poet. They allowed 
 to the Scriptures an adaptation to the age of Au- 
 gustus Caesar, but none to the higher development 
 of this noonday period. At one stage of their ad- 
 vances, they so reconstructed our mental and moral 
 
50 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 constitution as to find in itself the highest object in 
 the universe, and out of itself nothing but a projec- 
 tion of itself. .But this broad, unblushing panthe- 
 ism, at war with so many abiding relations of our 
 nature, could act only by spasms, and survive long 
 enough for Nature to take breath to utter her ten 
 thousand voices of refutation. 
 
 A theory ineffably more dangerous is that which 
 accords its claimed authority with the voice of his- 
 tory, while it denies that history reaches up to the 
 source of Christianity. It grants the validity of 
 that martyr protest given in the age of Origen and 
 Clemens, but maintains there is a chasm unbridged 
 by any Christian history which severs this age from 
 that of Jesus — that in those two unhistoric centuries 
 originated our present Testament — that this is a se- 
 lection from the heterogeneous mass of Christian 
 writings which had accumulated in the Church. 
 Were this allegation truthful as it is daring — had 
 it evidence as it has bravado, a reconstruction of 
 the Christian system would be a just demand. But 
 if the New Testament has emanated from God — if, 
 indeed, it be a revelation from Heaven, how can such 
 a demand be urged with a shadow of reason? If it 
 be an offspring of that Mind which must be ever 
 equally aware of human wants, the adequateness of 
 its provision can not be prevented by the want of 
 human development when it was given. The claim, 
 then, for reconstruction rests on the baseless as- 
 sumption that the Gospel is traceable to various 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 51 
 
 tributary streams, and not to the Infinite Mind as 
 its exclusive fountain. What system of ar^ age has 
 ever perished any further than it wanted truthful- 
 ness? Before it has become obsolete the truth it 
 contained has combined itself with systems less er- 
 roneous. But the unmingled nature of revealed 
 truth must prevent an eclectic process, and preclude 
 all substitution. This is too lofty an attribute of 
 character to admit of its ever coming within the 
 power of reconstruction. We demand with em- 
 phasis, then. When shall that age arrive at which 
 the young spirit of the future will not be the native 
 offspring of the Gospel? Sooner will the arch of 
 heaven fail to span the globe, than revealed princi- 
 ples to take in the entire orbit of created mind. 
 
 A broader view would have convinced these rea- 
 soners that the whole class of their obj^tions, of 
 which this is but a single variety, must give way 
 before those very principles whose validity they ad- 
 mit. For, how can they allow the history of the 
 third century to be reliable up to the utmost claim 
 of the Christian argument, and deny to our Testa- 
 ment the source which it has always claimed ? How 
 can they assign it any later origin, only by rejecting 
 the principles previously admitted — only by a sup- 
 position not less monstrous than the open rejection 
 of all ancient history? Was there ever a wilder 
 fancy substituted for argument than the following 
 supposition, which they have virtually adopted : that 
 the whole Church, spread over the civilized world, 
 
52 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 without any external head, or general council, or 
 legal establishment, or acknowledged authority of 
 any kind, and agitated by severe conflicts — that the 
 Church thus circumstanced could all be made to 
 suddenly reject its sacred writings, and substitute 
 others, believing them the productions of Christ's 
 apostles? How could this conclusion be adopted, so 
 utterly at war with all that ever transpired in hu- 
 man history? Is not this dashing to atoms, by a 
 single stroke, every previously-adopted principle ? 
 When such charge us with passing the gulf — which 
 the post-apostolic age is said to open before us — on 
 the slender wing of mere inference, should not their 
 attention be directed again to the fact that their 
 objection derives its only force from the overthrow 
 of that very principle on whose validity they rely ! 
 Let them dispassionately trace the cautious steps of 
 Paley, Marsh, Whately, or any other of those sober 
 inquirers of the same school who have traced that 
 chain of well-linked Christian testimonies, and then, 
 on ground equally solid, show us whether this bridge, 
 slung across this fancied gulf, be unsafe — whether 
 our passage over it be through the air or on firm 
 footing. Let them heedfully inspect ^Hhe attesta- 
 tions of the apostles and evangelists, who were pres- 
 ent at the events they relate and assume, whose 
 lives were turned into a new channel by their in- 
 fluence, and who went to prison and to death rather 
 than deny them — who positively declared they wit- 
 ne^ed the most stupendous miracles, and after their 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 53 
 
 Master had been visibly taken up through the 
 clouds^ themselves habitually exercised the same stu- 
 pendous power.’' Let them show us how the guar- 
 antees of testimony can go further; and if this be 
 impossible, we demand the rejection of their strange 
 hypothesis, and the admission, as valid, of these 
 Christian testimonies. Why should the faint and 
 refracted ray of metaphysical evidence divert their 
 eyes from the strong and steady luster of historic 
 proof? But especially, why, in the name of consist- 
 ency, should they heed the voice of history when 
 speaking from the third century, and turn away 
 from its utterances when they come from the sec- 
 ond century? Why is the sacred history of the 
 first century ignored ? Why is its origin sought in 
 an accumulated mass of unauthorized manuscripts, 
 which were the product of a later age? Why 
 should the history of this second century want 
 validity any more than that of a later century, 
 while the very existence of this would be impossi- 
 ble without the truth of that? Were the Gospel 
 history incumbered with fundamental anachronisms, 
 material misplacements, or moral incongruities, then, 
 ab initio, doubt might be legitimate. But what so- 
 ber critic now pretends to any thing of the kind? 
 What sound judge can tolerate for a moment that 
 bold ■ allegation of the last age, that the only two 
 accounts of the birth and infancy of Jesus are hope- 
 lessly at variance with each other; or that there 
 still remains unharmonized discrepancies in the evi- 
 
64 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 dence of Christ’s resurrection? All candid inquir- 
 ers know the impossibility of considering that his- 
 toric proof, of matchless force, which sustains the 
 highest claims of Jesus, without finding in it a re- 
 sistless protest against rending from the history of 
 his achievements that of his supernatural birth. 
 This discussion is no attempt to obviate that large 
 class of objections involving an appeal to antiquity; 
 but simply to suggest to my junior brethren the 
 demand now upon them for a thorough acquaintance 
 with antiquity. 
 
 To these characteristics of our times we must not 
 fail to add another. This consists in a strong tend- 
 ency to find in the hosom of the Natural the 
 
 CAUSE OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 
 
 Gibbon, the infidel historian, is far from peculiar 
 in this perverting reference of spiritual effects to 
 natural causes. We advert here to the five reasons 
 he offers for the matchless rapidity with which 
 Christianity pervaded the whole empire, as a single 
 instance of many illustrative of our position. But 
 how can events favorable to the success of a super- 
 natural cause supersede the miraculous character of 
 that cause? No student of the age needs to be told 
 how German neology accounts for the peerless prev- 
 alence of Christianity in the martyr age of its con- 
 flict. He knows that this assigns it to causes ex- 
 clusive of every shadow of God’s interference. It 
 finds reason for no agency beyond what is merely 
 earth-born. It sees enough in the decayed state of 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTHY. 
 
 55 
 
 the Greek and Roman polytheism ; in the utter rot- 
 tenness of the forces of the empire; in the complete 
 poise on which it stood between external unity and 
 internal decay; in the extinction of the vitality of 
 its majestic organism throughout all its gigantic 
 proportions; and, above all, in its religion being a 
 simple assent to an idea, while that of Christianity 
 was profound devotion to an exalted person. Now, 
 though these allegations are unassailable truths, how 
 could there be a more stupendous sophism than to 
 substitute them for the miracles of Heaven? Glance 
 for a moment at the last reason assigned, namely: 
 that Christianity is supreme devotion to a peeson, 
 and not, like polytheism, simple assent to an idea. 
 This is truth — deep, far-reaching truth. But is it 
 a truth peculiar to Christianity? By no means. It 
 has been a distinction of the true worship from the 
 beginning of creation. Loeg anterior to Christ it 
 characterized the patriarchal devotion — it was the 
 essential vitality of that devotion. Without it that 
 ancient worship might have been the earnestness of 
 philosophy, the enthusiasm of poetry, the inspiration 
 of genius, or some other glowing element of kindled 
 nature; but could never have been supreme devo- 
 tion. Was there ever a real worshiper in any world 
 without an object invested with his own highest 
 qualities — the same in kind, vastly transcending in 
 degree? Such an object must possess the discrimi- 
 nating love of right, and the innate power of achiev- 
 ing it. He must glow in the unborrowed and un- 
 
56 LECTUEf)S AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 V 
 
 dimmed luster of a moral nature, involving the 
 causal energy of a living will. Such an object alone 
 in the whole universe can emancipate the agent 
 into the captivity of worship.” What are physical 
 facts, unconscious laws, resistless force, boundless 
 space, endless duration — any thing or every thing, 
 merely impersonal ! What can these be to elicit 
 the supreme trust of a moral agent? They may 
 evade his knowledge, defy his penetration, over- 
 whelm his imagination, baffle all his powers — they 
 may even entrance him by their living harmony, 
 but can never command his worship. In all their 
 sublime aggregate they can not even furnish a sym- 
 bol of what he adores. 
 
 We are not unaware of that thrilling interest felt 
 in contemplating the absolute ground underlying 
 the transient phenomena of nature — of that wonder 
 awakened, that beauty disclosed, that rapture in- 
 spired, by tracing the unity of nature which per- 
 vades its mystic system. But Avhat has even the 
 pantheistic application of these to do with real wor- 
 ship? Whatever perversion might raise these ob- 
 jects into supremacy, the victim of this delusion 
 would find all terminating in disgusting self-adora- 
 tion. That poetic personification by which a gor- 
 geous fancy seems to breathe a living spirit on life- 
 less nature is a mere illusion. It is inspiring only 
 as it^ impinges on the verge of personality. All its 
 life is secretly borrowed from that living thought, 
 kindled by a personal object. Who that reflected 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 67 
 
 was ever a victim of so egregious a deception as to 
 imagine that the rich tints with which personifica- 
 tion adorns the objects of its notice were unbor- 
 rowed — were the reflected light radiated by a con- 
 cealed ao:ent? 
 
 But while we thus far heartily accord with the 
 objector — while with him we pronounce it the 
 bitterest mockery to bid a self-conscious being to 
 devote his highest affections to inert nature, or to 
 hypostasized laws — how can this possibly supersede 
 the miracles of God? how can it account for what 
 can be ascribed only to his stupendous power? Be- 
 cause only a supreme person can elicit supreme 
 homage, how can it follow that only the presenta- 
 tion of such a person is requisite to account for 
 all the unparalleled achievements of Christianity? 
 Why should this very same object, which had ever 
 been substantially before true worshipers, suddenly 
 rise up into such amazing efiiciency as to neutralize 
 the highest incentives of life, and make the mar- 
 tyr's stake a field of glory? How, then, shall that 
 philosophy be characterized which, that it may re- 
 ject all miracles, ascribes to natural causes what 
 all ages have believed nothing but a miracle could 
 produce? Because the Infinite Hand arranges ex- 
 ternal events, to put them in harmony with its own 
 miraculous movements, who is authorized to substi- 
 tute such arrangements for those miracles? Still, 
 this is the very blunder committed by that whole 
 class of reasoners with which our age swarms. 
 
58 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDKESSES. 
 
 These miscellaneous characteristics of our times, 
 of almost random choice, might be multiplied in- 
 definitely, without the slightest danger of exhaust- 
 ing the peculiarities of the age. The few, however, 
 at which we have so hastily glanced, must indicate 
 the special demands now on the ministry; and others 
 not enumerated must find their representatives in 
 these. The preparation to meet these demands must 
 next engage our attention. 
 
 In discussing this preparation, however, no at- 
 tempt will be made to trace the successive steps 
 to the required attainments; none to enumerate the 
 requisite appliances that are to be employed, or to 
 point out the obstacles which impede the successive 
 advances toward the consummation of the grand 
 achievement. My aim will simply be a brief 
 advertence to the general mode of acquiring the 
 utmost strength. 
 
 Unless the demands of the age have been mis- 
 conceived, and are too occult for inspection — unless 
 mere shadows have deceived me, and have been 
 substituted for reality — our age calls for all pos- 
 sible strength in the ministry. It requires native 
 strength, whose iron bands shall gird the inward 
 powers; scientific strength, which shall marshal 
 those powers into the consistency of a phalanx; 
 literary strength, whose stores, like the ocean, shall 
 be exhaustless; moral strength, derived from alli- 
 ance with the Immortal God, and bringing the soul 
 into harmony with all the saving influences and 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 59 
 
 agencies of the atonement. To delineate even the 
 direct means of acquiring this bright and lofty 
 aggregate would fill not a lecture, but a volume. 
 Such an attempt, then, is inadmissible; and every 
 view must now be excluded but that of a single 
 point — UNITY OF PURSUIT. 
 
 Though this is the narrowest point of possible 
 compression, it may evolve relations and claim 
 illustrations of large extent. 
 
 If singleness of aim shall be found to invest the 
 minister with the highest capabilities — if it best 
 enables him to strike both with power and pre- 
 cision — to diffuse truth and subvert error — to 
 rouse the mind and rule the heart — to crush sin 
 and exalt holiness — then is it impossible to make 
 the light too intense which discloses its workings. 
 That the highest power of the soul is secured by 
 the combination of all its energies, it is impos- 
 sible to doubt. That this combination may be 
 fully realized, the object must be one — the eye must 
 be single — the heart must be undivided — the conse- 
 cration must be entire. 
 
 To divide the object of pursuit is to scatter the 
 energies employed. Only half the man is availing 
 who alternately acts on competing objects. His 
 powers are scarcely rallied before they are divided; 
 then combined action is never prosecuted till resist- 
 ance is overcome. Whether this vacillation arise 
 from instability of purpose or from the tyranny of 
 circumstances, which makes a variety of objects 
 
60 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 alternately paramount, alters not the case; it de- 
 feats the aim of the agent by laying waste his 
 utmost strength. 
 
 From the maximum degree his powers must ever 
 be receding, and reach its minimum point just when 
 the highest energy is demanded. In the result there 
 can be no difference — whether the cause of irreso- 
 lution be within or without — whether the mighty 
 son of Manoah were shorn of his strength by the 
 treacherous object he had taken to his bosom, or 
 overcome by combined forces from without. It is 
 common experience, that internal oftener than ex- 
 ternal causes obstruct unity of pursuit. 
 
 The efficiency of our principle admits of the most 
 ample illustration. When did the aim at merely 
 general scholarship ever issue in great achieve- 
 ments? Here is found the solution of the problem 
 why no scholar, since the revival of letters, without 
 a profession, has ever left a deep impression on his 
 age. The reason lies not in his want of native 
 strength, or literary wealth, or scientific grasp, but 
 in the want of a concentrating object, which should 
 converge the energies on a focal point. How can a 
 marked result arise from the scattered energies of 
 the strongest soul? The diffused sunbeams may 
 paint the flowers with beauty, and enrich the clouds 
 with splendor; but they can glow in the melted 
 metal, they dissolve only when converged to a point 
 by the lens which collects them. The single object 
 of the mind’s regard is the convex lens, which 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTKY. 
 
 61 
 
 concentrates its energies, giving their utmost focal 
 glowing power. 
 
 To what mind but to that of entire singleness, 
 that of quenchless earnestness, does history award 
 the discoveries of truth, the inventions of genius, 
 or the achievements of the moral hero? How can 
 it be otherwise? How can such a mind fail to view 
 all objects within its circumference in their relations 
 to its single end? And how can such a view fail 
 to detect relations otherwise never perceptible? As 
 every great object sustains relations, reaching to the 
 very roots of thought, and sweeping over its very 
 out-walks, it must command and unify a field of 
 knowledge unexplorable without such a common 
 center. From that center the mind traces with 
 astonishment the depth, variety, and extent of that 
 knowledge thus suggested and connected. It denies 
 the depth from which relevant ideas arise — the 
 wealth of original illustration — the unexpected anal- 
 ogies which burst into view. All these disclosures, 
 so mysteriously made, point to their cause, in unity 
 of pursuit. To mind, in this single earnest state, 
 science after science contributes its stream, as from 
 a fresh and ever-flowing fountain, till nothing in 
 nature seems to have withheld its treasure from his 
 grasp. 
 
 This is the real and only process by which the 
 field of universal knowledge is ever commanded. 
 By it the mind is introduced to the truths of 
 nature, the works of genius, and to its own mys- 
 
62 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 terious depths. But if it be alternately engaged 
 by competing objects of pursuit, it is thrown be- 
 yond the power of the associating principle, and 
 has nothing to attract and bind its particular ideas. 
 Its unappropriated knowledge wastes as it is gained; 
 and its thought, and capacity for thought, must re- 
 main painfully stationary. This want of a nucleus 
 about which ideas may gather, this absence of a 
 combining principle under which particular ideas 
 may arrange themselves, exposes all knowledge to 
 the ravages of perpetual decay. 
 
 The source of that grand deception, that success 
 in a particular pursuit results from general acquisi- 
 tions, is thus disclosed, and the truth of the reverse 
 is made to shine in the light of resistless proof. 
 Who can consult the structure of the mind, and 
 the conditions on which it is enriched, without 
 having the clearest perceptions that particular suc- 
 cess arises not from general acquisitions, but that 
 these are made by intense devotion to a single aim. 
 This cause and its effects can no more exchange 
 places than mutations can occur in the order of 
 logical thought. The ^scholar may never succeed 
 in a particular object of difficult attainment be- 
 cause his knowledge pervades a broad field, but 
 he will never fail to acquire that knowledge by 
 intense devotion to that particular object. 
 
 But though rival objects of conflicting tendencies 
 thus divide the heart, weaken the intellect, and 
 paralyze exertion, it is not so with harmonious 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 63 
 
 objects. These may be various and numerous, with- 
 out distracting attention or abating ardor. Having 
 a common end, they are bound to it by that great 
 associating principle which unifies all plurality. The 
 accomplishment of that end may involve the activi- 
 ties of agents diverse in nature, different in sort, and 
 remote in locations, without impairing the strength 
 of the guiding mind. 
 
 That mind, so directing a series of expedients as 
 to bring them into efficient cooperation, may appear 
 to the multitude wasting its energies in random 
 movements. But to the moving agent these sub- 
 ordinate forces have all the order of perfect dis- 
 cipline. So far from dividing his energies, they 
 extend the sphere of his well-directed agency. 
 Thus the unity of the object pursued prevents 
 any number of means employed from impairing 
 the power of the actor. 
 
 Nor are difficulties in the way of the determ- 
 ined mind unfavorable to the exertion of its utmost 
 strength. The sole question for the adjustment of 
 such a mind is this. Is success within the limits 
 of practicability? If so, the more formidable the 
 obstacles to it the more thoroughly will be roused 
 the energies of the soul — the richer will be the 
 splendors investing the achievement. Who knows 
 not that the highest displays of character are the 
 fruit of the -mightiest exigencies in human affairs ? 
 These rouse the profound energies of the soul which 
 lie in depths never disturbed by the ordinary current 
 
64 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 of life. The determined soul, like the well-formed 
 arch, derives strength from the weight pressing upon 
 it. It finds incentive to action in the very obstacles 
 to its success. The success realized, and the eflbrt 
 to secure it, have their measure in the motive which 
 incites and the vigor of the agent’s purpose. As 
 these are strong, those are large. Now, it belongs 
 to a great end to extend in magnitude at every 
 step of approach toward accomplishment, and no 
 observer can be ignorant of the growing power 
 which this increasing excitement elicits. 
 
 The man of this simple aim betrays its mysterious 
 power over his whole character. It is discovered in 
 the rigid appropriation of his time; in the sifting 
 scrutiny of his observation; in the scrupulous ex- 
 actness of his punctuality; and in the deeper skill 
 by which he combines and lays under contribution 
 all events to his purpose. He is aware of the 
 reality of that great principle, that the structure 
 of the soul admits of its energies being kindled 
 ta their utmost glow only when their object has 
 the strictest unity; that, unavoidably, the division 
 of attention is the grave of enthusiasm. By this 
 law alone will a great object be made to pervade 
 the entire field of vision, fill the utmost capacity 
 of the soul, and become a world of itsqjf. The 
 whole history of the race might be challenged to 
 furnish a single instance in which genius glowed 
 intensely, in poetry, or science, or eloquence, or in 
 the fine arts, or moral heroism, or any where else. 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 65 
 
 where a single object did not absorb the aspirant s 
 soul. The severer the ordeal by which inward 
 strength has been tested, the more striking the 
 working of the principle. The confessor’s dungeon, 
 the martyr s stake, have revealed its fearless might. 
 We may well invoke its agency in the ministerial 
 functions. Ten thousand examples from that high 
 vocation proclaim its efficacy. Never was it more 
 applicable to this profession than at the present 
 moment; never was there an age that could not 
 more harmlessly dispense with it. 
 
 The all-comprising object of the ministry is 
 this — to make known God the Trinity to man 
 the sinner. 
 
 This has ever been the minister’s legitimate aim. 
 The most summary expression of that principle, di- 
 recting all its movements to that end, is holiness 
 to the Lord.” 
 
 But the scenes of ministerial action, and the cor- 
 responding qualifications for action in these scenes, 
 have never been stationary. Should the latter re- 
 main so amid all the mutations of the former, 
 adaptation being lost, ministerial efficiency would 
 perish in the gulf which would yawn between the 
 laborer and his work. 
 
 But the most unexpected affinity will be found 
 between unreserved consecration to our work and 
 the facility of adapting means to that end. This 
 striking relationship may be best illustrated by in- 
 stances of lofty example. Degenerate as is the race, 
 
66 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 such abound in every moral enterprise in man’s 
 history. Look at the disinterested struggles made 
 by the immortal men, Wilberforce and Clarkson! 
 Their history is in this sentence: ^^The abolition 
 of the slave-trade.” Look at Howard, the lofty 
 philanthropist! In these words is compressed the 
 history of his life: Relief to the prisoners of 
 
 Europe.” Turn to the mighty man who rolled the 
 flood of truth over the Teutonic nations! Here is 
 his character: ^^The German Reformation.” Nor 
 is the history of Wesley less eloquent when com- 
 pressed in these words: living Gospel to two 
 
 hemispheres.” 
 
 An expansion of each of these sentences into huge 
 volumes, portraying the deep workings of these fer- 
 vid minds, would exhibit every means they employed 
 pointing like a beam of light to the one end. Emi- 
 nent as were the honored agents, it was not the 
 magnitude -of peerless powers in them by which 
 they -achieved those immortal deeds. It was the 
 burning, sleepless devotion of all their powers to 
 one grand aim. Nor will a single man of our 
 race, copying these beautiful models of supreme de- 
 votion to man’s rescue, fail to leave on his gen- 
 eration abiding traces of his power. Other ages 
 will know that he was once among men, anT will 
 bless Heaven for the spirit that directed his sleep- 
 less energies. 
 
 While this deep earnestness — this singleness of 
 heart — this lofty consecration to our living Head 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTEY. 
 
 67 
 
 distinguishes the minister, nothing can restrict the 
 sphere of his agency. It will throw, like the power 
 of gravity, a mysterious force over his own charac- 
 ter, and operate, by secret laws, to sway and mold 
 society. The resistless energy with which the per- 
 vading power of this principle operates, permeates 
 the whole living mass. While it inspires public 
 confidence in the man which it invests, it quickens 
 his inventive powers, making them fertile in benev- 
 olent expedients. 
 
 This, then, is the towering spirit to which poster- 
 ity is destined to award its highest veneration. It 
 is that spirit which,, mild as the morning light and 
 meek as the leader of Israel, is firm, fearless, invin- 
 cible, uncompromising. It controls the consciences 
 of men and wins the approval and supporting aid 
 of God. 
 
 This power in the ministry might be analyzed 
 with special advantage by exhibiting its particular 
 elements as indicating a high state of mental disci- 
 pline, large acquaintance with science and literature, 
 a mastery of pulpit elocution, a comprehensive ac- 
 quaintance with theology and Biblical literature, a 
 burning love for ransomed man, an intenser interest 
 for the Redeemer's glory, fraternal affection and 
 harmonious action among his anointed servants. 
 But as these, and all kindred elements of power, are 
 found in the elaboration of our principle, they can 
 not here be delineated. As this supreme consecra- 
 tion, then, is the compendium of all those qualifica- 
 
68 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 tions which respond to the unique call of our times — 
 as it most intensifies our mental powers, converging 
 all their energies to a point where they burst into 
 flame — as it takes up and appropriates every faculty 
 to the most intense affection and vigorous action, it 
 relates the minister alike to the present and to the 
 future. The system under which he operates binds 
 such action to the future. He carries the past with 
 him, though he stays not behind with that. He 
 enters the future, though not so as to forsake the 
 present. He provides increased aliment for poster- 
 ity, but not on principles which withhold it from 
 cotemporaries. 
 
 He looks deeper than others into the wound of 
 the race, and traces to this the hydra errors which 
 perplex our century. His view of the atoning rem- 
 edy is more accurate, profound, and comprehensive; 
 for the same reason that every object discloses its 
 relations in proportion to the depth with which it is 
 contemplated. He avoids the blunders, committed 
 by only half-imbued minds, of applying to the head 
 that which was prepared for the heart — of substi- 
 tuting philosophy for faith, or of making them com- 
 petitors instead of allies — of attempting to remove 
 man's maladies by other means than those provided 
 in heaven. 
 
 If these hints at the demands of the times, and 
 the only effective mode of providing for then), be 
 just, then is the ministerial course marked with the 
 utmost simplicity, and intended for the highest of 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTEY. 
 
 69 
 
 all achievements. To surround this conclusion with 
 the clearest light of evidence — to give it the force 
 of perfect demonstration — is the aim of this ad- 
 dress. 
 
 Beloved Alumniy—W e would make the occasion 
 which has assembled us tributary to this great aim. 
 The events which give character to this hour can 
 not fail to secure it a place in memory long after we 
 shall have dispersed to our accustomed work. Dear 
 brethren, we have met again once more to part. 
 Not all are here! Some of our absent members 
 have been prevented by distance from sharing in 
 the reminiscences whose charm has drawn us hither; 
 others have fallen at their posts and departed to 
 their reward; others are lifting up their voices on 
 the Pacific’s coast in harmony with the injunction 
 of the great commission. 
 
 Such as have sunk in the tomb have not aban- 
 doned the sphere of their agency, but ascend to a 
 higher one. They are not lost, but fled — not ab- 
 sent, though unseen. Not only Oregon and Cali- 
 fornia on the Western ocean have representatives of 
 our Institute, they are also found in the ethereal 
 regions of the blessed. They mingle in the scenes 
 of glorified humanity — they act in the exalted sphere 
 of fleshless agents. While the occasion, then, crowds 
 the present with reminiscences, let it kindle the fu- 
 ture with hope. Though the prospect is dim of our 
 reunion in this militant abode, it is not so of our 
 future greeting in the regions of vitality, where 
 
70 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES, 
 
 those one in affection shall have one abode.’^ But 
 even on these agitated coasts we know that place is 
 related only to our grosser nature. State, not ‘lo- 
 cality, belongs to a purified mind. Such mind has 
 an intercourse irrespective of proximity— in spite of 
 distance. 
 
 Though, in this life, it passes not to its higher 
 sphere of moral functions, where increased raptures, 
 though social, are uttered by thought alone, unseen, 
 unheard, intangible as God’s own essence — though it 
 enters not now that deep silence in which the rich- 
 est harmonies roll amid the outspread beauties of 
 the spirit realm, yet has it mysterious fellowship 
 amid the wanderings of this pilgrimage. This in- 
 tercourse shall pervade the fields we cultivate — ^shall 
 give proximity to the distant posts assigned us. 
 The unity of our absorbing object shall be the bond 
 of our fraternal connection — its grandeur shall ra- 
 diate the tender melancholy of our separation. 
 
 Amid the awakened remembrances of the occa- 
 sion, there is one heart which beats with unwonted 
 palpitations. That heart swells with grateful emo- 
 tion in the retrospect of the past. The period 
 stretching back to the beginning of our enterprise 
 presents itself to memory in three divisions. One 
 of fierce conflict and exhausting toil, while the la- 
 borer had little countenance, excepting from an ap- 
 proving heart and a sustaining Heaven — when on 
 more than a single continent the voice of entreaty 
 was heard for aid to the school of the prophets. 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 71 
 
 The next was a time of trembling hope that the 
 Unseen Hand which had begun to interfere would 
 continue its agency till the completion of the suc- 
 cess — that the agency conspiring against the enter- 
 prise should yet be made to combine in its support. 
 The third has been the realization of these hopes in 
 the face of the whole Church, so that the mingled 
 sound that then arose of kind approval and vigorous 
 protest are now, through the entire East, a harmo- 
 nious voice of greeting and thanksgiving. The 
 searching light evolved in its beneficent workings 
 has dissipated the fears of its cowardly friends, and 
 put to returnless flight the objections of its foes. 
 These marked results at least feebly illustrate that 
 sublime principle thus uttered: 
 
 Truth crushed to earth shall rise again — 
 
 The eternal years of Grod are hers; 
 
 But error, wounded, writhes in pain, 
 
 And dies amid her worshipers.’’ 
 
 It is an ancient truth that a good cause never 
 fails. It may be impeded in its progress, diverted 
 from its course, or suspended in its apparent opera- 
 tions; but total failure is out of the question. Its 
 type is in the great remedial system, which is 
 slowly working out for the race so bright a destiny. 
 Such a cause, suppressed, concealed, and apparently 
 crushed, like the river flowing beneath the mount- 
 ain range, will reappear to fertilize the probation- 
 ary field. But, though such records of the past 
 
 will ever be dear to our hearts — though memory 
 
 7 
 
72 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 will never part with the lessons they teach — yet to 
 the created mind the future will ever have a richer 
 interest. It gives scope for higher achievements. 
 It will be kindled with stronger lights. Let us 
 now, however, deem the past prophetic of the fu- 
 ture, and give ourselves for its highest demands. 
 Should after years task our powers with equal la- 
 bor, let it be endured at least with equal patience. 
 Should they kindle before us the flame of conflict, 
 let us do battle only for God and his Church, 
 Should the issue of the strife be signal victory, let 
 the glory of the field wreathe the brow of the Ke- 
 deemer. Should we fall in the strife, let our expir- 
 ing breath kindle the heroism of posterity; and 
 when each of us departs from the mortal scenes, let 
 it be felt that a friend of God, a brother of man, has 
 made his exit. 
 
 But how shall we appropriately speak of the In- 
 stitute so as neither to exaggerate nor depreciate? 
 It has doubtless been an object to which the gradu- 
 ates have looked back with strange and abiding 
 emotions. Since the lapse of intervening years has 
 modified your enthusiasm for your Alma Matee, 
 may I ask your present opinion of her character? 
 But your presence to-day is a response to the in- 
 quiry. The expensive journeys which it has cost 
 you, and the kindled countenance with which you 
 appear, are eloquent of the settled judgment you 
 have formed. Were the data sought on which this 
 judgment is based, you would doubtless present 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTRY. 
 
 73 
 
 them in two classes: the personal growth of intel- 
 lect and heart in divine knowledge and holy expe- 
 rience, of which each has intuitive certainty; and 
 its benignant working on its other inmates, as a fact 
 of public notoriety. Yoi^can doubtless point to its 
 career, as to that of a faithful probationer, which has 
 had a waxing glory up to this hour — which, though 
 successful at the outset, has ever been exceeding its 
 former self. It has passed several changes in the 
 board of its instruction. It is now parting with the 
 last member of its first faculty. One of that faculty 
 is now in the West, controlling the interests of an- 
 other institution. The second has passed from its 
 chair to make the continent his parish. The third 
 is about collecting what little remains of his wasted 
 energies to establish another school of the prophets 
 in the mighty West'' But we rejoice to know that 
 change is not bereavement, that successors are not 
 inferiors, that the past is prophecy, and that the 
 future will be the expansion of present history. 
 May we prayerfully commend to the Divine super- 
 vision this child of God’s providence! We may also 
 be permitted, under Him, to commit it to the sym- 
 pathies of all who can grasp the magnitude of its 
 interests. We trust, also, that the same Hand 
 which has directed the destiny of the first, will 
 never be withdrawn from the interest of the second. 
 That the holy light, streaming from this in the 
 East, and from that in the West, will radiate the 
 intervening space of a thousand miles — that the 
 
74 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 second, being the reproduction of the first, will 
 .never be its competitor, but always its ally — that, 
 like David and Jonathan, they will be strongly knit 
 together in life, and, like Melchisedek, they will 
 never be subject to death. Let us hope that both 
 will send out their anointed sons to grapple wity 
 the foe at every stronghold of wickedness, and that 
 the New World will never cease to read on their 
 escutcheon, in letters of fire, this motto: ^^We live 
 not for ourselves;” ^^we are your servants for Jesus' 
 sake.” To whom, then, but to the Alumni — to those 
 noble youth who know the power of character de- 
 rived from self-sustaining effort — to whom else, under 
 God, should we confide the character of these new- 
 born institutions? ^Who else can give the Church so 
 thrilling a demonstration of its momentous bearing? 
 This, of course, will not be done by high-sounding 
 eulogies, but by divine beauty of character — by a 
 sweetness of temper that nothing can imbitter, a 
 meekness of spirit that never boasts, a zeal that 
 never languishes, an intelligence that ever expands; 
 in one word, by being a model ministry — ready for 
 every work of sacrifice, for every post of danger, 
 for every conflict of error — occupying an eminence 
 covered with light, from which the mild luster of 
 example, flowing to mingle with the strong radiance 
 of instruction, shall pierce the densest darkness. By 
 thus furnishing the Church with a band of heroes, 
 in whom the chosen twelve would have found fit 
 companionship, you will confer the highest honor on 
 
DEMANDS ON THE MINISTEY. 
 
 75 
 
 the institution which you represent. You will be- 
 queath to posterity a character which shall form an 
 abiding object of the age. Those now unborn will 
 be attracted by its moral grandeur. They will be- 
 hold it looming up in the distance, like the granite 
 peaks of ancient mountains. It shall be bathed in 
 light long after the darkness of ages shall have set- 
 tled down on common character. 
 
 In the hope that our beloved graduates will aspire 
 to these lofty attainments — that they will be no less 
 distinguished for the elevation of their motives than 
 for the compass of their thoughts — for the purity of 
 their affections than for the success of their enter- 
 prises; in the hope this ascending process will issue 
 in a broader sphere of being, perfection, and serv- 
 ice — that it will conduct to reunion where the free- 
 dom of our powers, the education of our companions, 
 and the rapture of our associations, shall prevent for- 
 ever these farewell scenes of sundering hearts, weep- 
 ing eyes, and quenched fervors — full of this hope, 
 we tear ourselves with firmness from the beloved 
 objects before us — we bid you, my dear brethren, 
 and our cherished institution, an affectionate and 
 final farewell. 
 
' 
 
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m. 
 
 DIVINE PROVIDENCE: 
 
 A LECTURE DELIVERED BEFORE THE MEMBERS OF THE 
 BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 TO THE JUNIOR MINISTRY OE THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH 
 
 THIS DISCOURSE IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 Beloved Brethren, — The peculiar relations of the writer, for 
 several years, to hundreds of your number, emboldens him to 
 address to you especially the following discussion. His aim in 
 these pages has been to settle a few great principles under which 
 may be arranged many of the far-reaching truths alike import- 
 ant to psychology and religion. The impassable gulf dividing 
 between mind and matter — the utter unlikeness in the laws gov- 
 erning them — the consequent impossibility of all interchange 
 between them — the points of perfect similarity and of entire 
 unlikeness between the human intellect and the Mind Supreme — 
 the etern ally-necessary contrast between all agents and all in- 
 struments — these, and kindred outlines of truth, are the vital 
 principles with which the writer has here dared to grapple. 
 
 When it is recollected that the mightiest thinkers of the race 
 have hovered with awe around the fearful depths of Jehovah’s 
 agency in the universe — that the earnest discussion of ages has 
 failed to identify the precise limit where the created intellect and 
 the Infinite Mind meet, and how and where each acts alone — 
 when the intrinsic difficulty of these questions is fathomed, who 
 can anticipate that, by a brief discourse, they will be dismantled 
 of that darkness with which the erring inquirers of antiquity 
 
78 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 have shrouded them? The plan of this discourse has admitted 
 of little else than the statement and brief illustration of these 
 principles. Their full elaboration, it is believed, will contribute 
 to the solution of that problem of human life which has tasked 
 all ages. 
 
 On these themes the perverting language of philosophy has 
 diverted the current of human thought from its early channels. 
 The Hebrew oracles acknowledged no agency in any realm of 
 nature but the ever-acting Mind Almighty. This ascription of 
 all action in every element to that Mind needs not the apology 
 that such utterances were made in the pomp of Eastern poetry. 
 They are the accurate statements of what was intended to thrill 
 all created mind. Never can they be appreciated till resistless 
 conviction of the essential unlikeness between mind and matter 
 pierces the mind through and through. Not till then can there 
 be an adequate conception of their intrinsic opposition. 
 
 The discussion of these elementary truths will not be ranked 
 with any abstractions by such as know that all action looks back 
 to principle no less directly than all principle looks forward to 
 practice. 
 
 LECTURE. 
 
 A BELIEF in the existence of a Divine Providence 
 has been peculiar to no age. It has been ancient as 
 our race, and almost as extensive as all the genera- 
 tions of men. But in precisely the thing in which 
 it consists there has been little harmony. This 
 has varied as the light in which it was contem- 
 plated has been more or less unclouded and intense. 
 Antiquity has not been alone in producing its Epi- 
 cureans, who allowed to the world no other provi- 
 dence than its laws could exercise over it. Modern 
 times have been fruitful of a kindred class. While 
 
 \ 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 79 
 
 such have referred these laws to the Infinite Mind 
 as their source, they have-excluded from them the 
 least subsequent interference of that mind. They 
 leave the mundane machine to operate under no 
 other agency but that of these laws. This class, 
 however, is less numerous than that which accords 
 to God a general supervision of his universe, while 
 it denies him every shadow of care for individuals. 
 The atom of matter, the insect of a day, those 
 minute events which rise and vanish by millions 
 in an hour, can never share in the attention of 
 Jehovah. 
 
 Others advocate a providence which permits the 
 Father of Spirits to act on mind, but never on 
 matter. To touch a single wheel in the complicated 
 machine of the material universe, would prove im- 
 perfection in the manner in which he originally 
 constructed it. They, therefore, demand hands off 
 on the part of the Creator, unless, to establish a 
 new religion, he discloses almighty power in the 
 form of miracles. Though these views are not all 
 alike dishonorable to the Almighty Mind, the best 
 of them fail to accord with the records of his Word. 
 They can not be tested, however, by this infallible 
 criterion till the subject shall be guarded against 
 misapprehensions. 
 
 By Peovidence, in this discourse, is understood 
 the care and supervision of God over all the uni- 
 verse BY THE DIEECT EXEECISE OF HIS ALMIGHTY 
 ENEEGY. At this point we must protest against 
 
80 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 any resort to that common fallacy of confounding 
 a well-attested fact with the mode in which it was 
 brought about. That the infinite energy of God is 
 momentarily at work on every part of the universe, 
 may, as a fact, have the certainty of demonstration, 
 while the manner of doing it may lie as far beyond 
 our mental compass as the profoundest arcana in 
 the world of spirits. The impervious vail by which 
 the latter is covered, is the very same which con- 
 ceals ten thousand other processes in every field of 
 our investigation. How, then, without practicing 
 on ourselves an utter fallacy, can we permit the 
 darkness which shrouds the manner of Divine 
 providence to shake our confidence in the evi- 
 dence which sustains the fact of that providence? 
 Why should this inquiry be embarrassed by a de- 
 mand made here which is made nowhere else — a 
 demand repudiated by the very nature of the case? 
 While the most piercing minds of the race have met 
 with no fact through the whole range of inquiry the 
 manner of which was not inscrutable, why should 
 our faith stagger at the unextorted secrets in these 
 lofty movements of Jehovah’s administration? To 
 urge, therefore, because the manner of providence 
 operating is beyond our grasp, the fact of its opera- 
 tion should be brought into doubt, is an egregious 
 fallacy, which should be promptly rejected. 
 
 There is, however, an important sense in which 
 the agency of God, in the exercise of his providence, 
 is not inscrutable by us. We know by our own 
 
DIVINE TROVIDENCE. 
 
 81 
 
 mental structure and operations what is the action 
 of invisible mind. We make our own objective, so 
 that it reveals itself to us in its action. Did not 
 this lofty, intrinsic power of agency reside within 
 us, in vain would the Infinite Mind attempt to im~ 
 part to us an idea of its own agency. To conceive 
 of its mysterious, self-acting energy, I must be en- 
 robed with it; to know its attributes, I must possess 
 them; to conceive of its operations, I must exercise 
 its powers. Of this exercise no man ever cherished 
 a shadow of doubt — the certainty of this is not less 
 than that of his existence itself. The light of con- 
 sciousness is the only evidence in which the origin- 
 ating power of agency can be known. Because the 
 human might does not approach Divine power in 
 degreCy it is no indication that they are unlike in 
 kind. The fact that ours extends to only narrow 
 limits, and that God’s sweeps over the out-limits 
 of the universe, creates no possible difference in 
 any thing essential to free agency. If, then, the 
 infinity of unlikeness, at other points, between the 
 originated and the unoriginated minds, can occasion 
 no difference in what is essential to agency in both, 
 I know what the agency of God is with the same 
 accuracy with which I know my own agency. Up 
 to the point I can act on surrounding objects I can 
 clearly see how God can do it. But to extend my 
 conceptions over the broad sphere of his providence, 
 I must imagine an agent whose energies transcend 
 mine as far as the objects of his care transcend those 
 
82 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 of mine. I can, then, have no greater difficulty in 
 conceiving of God's universal agency than I have 
 in grasping those objects on which he perpetually 
 acts. What obstacle, then, can arise to my faith 
 against the never-reposing energies of God reaching 
 every action of the great universe, which has not 
 equal force against my faith in the existence of the 
 universe ? 
 
 In the doctrine of Providence to which this dis- 
 course is devoted, are found the ideas of an infinite^ 
 ever-active agent; of a material system, on every 
 part of which his power never ceases to work; of 
 created mind, on which Divine agency very differ- 
 ently operates. 
 
 That the perpetual and universal action of Divine 
 power on every part of the material system involves 
 no inherent obstacle, is indicated by the fact that 
 creating agency has operated in the same sphere. 
 If infinite power once acted in bringing all that 
 now is out of nothing, why should it not continue 
 to act in preventing the same entities from, return- 
 ing to nothing. To make a thing, and to keep it 
 in a made state, must demand the same kind and 
 degree of agency, though the difference of our rela- 
 tions to those two classes of acts may give them a 
 very discrepant appearance. It is the nature of 
 mind to act; its sphere of agency is as broad as 
 the compass of its presence. The Divine essence 
 being no where absent, it can act every-where. 
 
 It should awaken no surprise that the necessity 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 83 
 
 of a persevering agent is not equally obvious as the 
 necessity of a creating agent. The reason the latter 
 forces itself on all sane minds, and the former is so 
 much doubted, exists not in the difference between 
 the two things, but in our relations to them. 
 
 Finding that something is, the very structure of 
 our mind carries us back to its beginning. The 
 process is short, rapid, unerring. The observer de- 
 termines that the thing has always existed — which 
 is impossible, as it has not all perfections; or that 
 it made itself — then it must have acted before it 
 existed; or that it originated in infinite power. 
 In the last he reposes with the most entire assur- 
 ance of truth. But this constitutional necessity and 
 facility of proceeding directly from what exists to 
 him who gave it existence, are wanting in our pas- 
 sage from continued existence to the ceaseless action 
 of him that upholds it. Having always observed 
 things remain as they were, without a hand visibly 
 to support them, we do not as readily mark the 
 connection between preservation and agency as be- 
 tween creation and agency. Having ever noticed 
 regular movements in our solar system, without 
 any perceptible power to produce them, we are not 
 aware that the gulf is equally impassable which 
 separates between motion — or preservation — and 
 nothing, as that which separates between simple 
 being and nothing. We see not at a glance why 
 the power of continuance may not in some way be 
 interwoven with the constitution of matter itself, or 
 
84 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 why it may not have been superadded to a globe, 
 so as to have been its concomitant without being 
 its property. Thus it is there appears to be scope 
 for both preservation and motion without referring 
 them to God’s direct agency, and that agency is 
 much more easily dispensed with in preservation 
 than in creation. The uniformity with which we 
 are accustomed to see the movements of nature 
 proceed, is so much unlike the ever-varying action 
 of all agents with which we are acquainted, that 
 we more readily refer those movements to the con- 
 stitution of things than to the action of God. But 
 this subject is not alone in deluding us by mere 
 appearances; otherwise the brightest minds of the 
 race would not for thousands of years have pro- 
 nounced this globe a plane, and stationed it in the 
 center of the system around which the sun and 
 stars made their daily circuits. These deceptions 
 have fled before the corrective powers of generali- 
 zation. To the same intellectual test should the 
 evidences of God’s agency be submitted. Science 
 itself has strangely sanctioned the phraseology, that 
 the LAWS of nature are the eflicient agency by which 
 the processes of nature are carried forward. What 
 except a simple definition of these laws can be requi- 
 site to dissipate forever so gross a delusion? Let 
 us, then, pierce the mists which have long shaded 
 this misapplied term. What is its import in its 
 application to the processes of external nature? 
 
 ‘^By law is denoted a mode of existence, or an 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 85 
 
 order of sequence;"' that is, the regular order, ac- 
 cording to which the system subsists and operates. 
 But how can the order of the system be substituted 
 for the mind that arranges it? How can its opera- 
 tions be thrust into his place who operates? We 
 call the tendency of every body toward its attract- 
 ing center the law of gravity. But what is this 
 tendency, this law, but a fact in nature — an event 
 of uniform occurrence? Can this event be its own 
 producer? Is it not one thing to know the gravi- 
 tating tendencies of bodies, and another to know 
 the agency that moves them in that order? Would 
 not my faith be regulated by the same principle in 
 believing the creation had no cause, as in maintain- 
 ing that its processes are the agency which produced 
 them? These certainly occupy spheres in the uni- 
 verse which can never be exchanged. They must 
 be those of the act and the actor — of a cause and 
 an effect — of a thing and a person — of what is es- 
 sentially passive and of what is intrinsically active. 
 The agent must know the object for which he acts, 
 but the act can neither know its cause or sequence. 
 These immutable distinctions were profoundly fixed 
 in the great mind of Newton. Gravity,” says he, 
 ^^must be caused by an agent acting constantly ac- 
 cording to certain laws.” (Letter to Dr. Bentley.) 
 When we affirm that laws which are the mode of 
 an agent's action can not by possibility be the 
 agent which acts, we apply the remarks with the 
 very same force to nature, order, mechanism, or to 
 
86 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 any other thing to which casual power is tacitly 
 ascribed. We must, then, cease forever. to sub- 
 stitute the order of action for the agent that acts — 
 the rule for the workman that operates by it — the 
 uniformity with which the processes of nature are 
 carried on for that Infinite Agent which carries 
 them on. What possible efficiency can there be in 
 the manner of acting after the hand which adopted 
 it is withdrawn? 
 
 Such as exclude the direct agency of God from 
 the functions of material nature will find by pro- 
 founder scrutiny their position a most difficult one. 
 Conceding, as they must, that a thousand lofty pur- 
 poses are accomplished by these functions, they are 
 compelled to maintain that mere matter does all 
 this — that these far-reaching designs, ascribable 
 only to the mightiest intellect, are predicable of 
 the most lifeless mass on which the foot treads. 
 Events for illustration so crowd around us that we 
 can scarcely err in the selection. Take that of a 
 body suspended in the air, which is attracted by 
 the earth. This attraction is action. But what 
 acts? The earth? Then the earth knows when 
 and where the suspended body appears. Is it the 
 body which acts? Then it must know with what 
 degree of power to act; and that knowledge must 
 be so scrupulously exact as never to vary a thou- 
 sandth part of a grain in proportioning its momentum 
 to its quantity, or the millionth part of an inch in 
 adapting its speed to the distances through which 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 87 
 
 it falls. That such calculations obtain through all 
 the movements of the solar system, we have all the 
 certainty of figures and mathematics. Where do 
 the annals of man speak of a genius adequate to 
 trace these endlessly-varying proportions, which 
 reach to every inch of space and every atom of 
 matter? But the demand for present intelligence 
 stops not at a mind which can trace these relations, 
 but requires one that can operate accordantly wi^h 
 them through all the ages of time, and over the 
 largest sweep of worlds. Is the dead earth, then, 
 such a mathematician, or is the body suspended 
 above it such a calculative and executive mind? 
 That such matchless skill and peerless energy are 
 present none doubts. But where are they seated? 
 In matter? Then matter is mind. In an agent? 
 Then behold the direct action of God in every 
 movement of nature. Let none imagine that God 
 has empowered matter to do all this is a solution 
 of the problem. The thing is impossible. Matter, 
 as such, can not be empowered to do this. It must 
 first pass over from its own dominions to that of 
 mind; that is, it must retain its own nature, and 
 at the same time cease to be what it is. Now, the 
 performing of this contradiction is not an object of 
 power, though that power be omnipotent. So sure, 
 then, as matter can not be mind while it remains 
 matter, it can not act like mind and be what it is. 
 To speak, therefore, of God’s empowering matter to 
 achieve the loftiest functions of mathematical mind, 
 
88 
 
 LECTUBES AND ADDBESSES* 
 
 is a gross perversion of thought, and a downright 
 perversion of language. We speak with emphasis — ■ 
 the fact must not escape us — that there can be no 
 middle ground : either what belongs to mere matter 
 can perform all these mental functions, or the posi- 
 tion that they are not the direct action of God must 
 be abandoned. We can not permit the question to 
 be obscured by loosely supposing that God may 
 carry on the processes of nature so indirectly as to 
 justify the language, It is done by instruments^ 
 The instruments contended for are of the same class 
 of inert things as the objects on which they are 
 supposed to act. The demand is equally imperious 
 for the immediate action of God to produce any 
 change in nature, whether you place nothing or ten 
 thousand instruments between that change and his 
 hand. The tenth or -ten-thousandth instrument can 
 no more act than the first, or than the mass on 
 which it is alleged to operate. The broad fact 
 glaring on every observer is, that changes take 
 place every moment around us which nothing but 
 mind can effect. It is too palpable to admit of 
 proof that contrivances — adapting means to ends — 
 are before us on the largest scale. If matter can 
 do this, it is capable of any thing we ascribe to 
 God. He may be matter, or it may be God. In- 
 ertness has ever been deemed an essential property 
 of matter. This certainly excludes all action and 
 all motion from being a property of the same sub- 
 stance. Take a single instance of contrivance, as a 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENGE. 
 
 89 
 
 specimen of millions with which nature is crowded, 
 which requires ever^operative intelligence and ex- 
 ecutive power. From the deposited seed shoots are 
 thrown out so that one portion goes downward to 
 form the roots, and the other upward to develop 
 in the future plant. A failure in either of these 
 arrangements would annihilate vegetation. Is the 
 seed aware of this? Has it the precautionary 
 power to guard against it? Are the light, heat, 
 and moisture aware of the functions of their office 
 in the growth of this plant? Do they act in con- 
 scious concert in nicely combining their proportions 
 with far-seeing reference to the end? Do they 
 direct their operations with a skill so profound 
 that the trunk, the boughs, the leaves, the fruit, 
 are so provided for as to have their relative pro- 
 portions, and the nutriment never miss its way to 
 the leaves instead of the fruit? Here are betrayed 
 the workings of mind. Where is it seated? In 
 these material properties? Then matter is no more 
 matter. It has parted with every one of its proper- 
 ties; it has leaped the mighty gulf which divided 
 it from mind; it has become one of those Godlike 
 beings which are self-active. 
 
 This illustration of random choice is even less 
 striking than those which multiply in their complica- 
 tions as we pierce below the mere surface of nature. 
 Let none, then, mistake the conceded fact, that God 
 contrived and put in operation the mundane system, 
 for the question before us. Who continues its opera- 
 
90 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 tions? If we know any thing of the operations of 
 mind in the universe, do we not find them here? Is 
 this mind in matter, or in an agent foreign to mat- 
 ter? This demand for a living agent will continue 
 to be evaded unless it be kept full in our view — un- 
 less we sternly require the direct conclusion, that 
 all this thinking, operative agency must be exer- 
 cised by matter alone, or by Mind on the throne of 
 the universe. This will enable us to rebuke, as by 
 the blast of a trumpet, that philosophy which nom- 
 inally places God: at the helm of the world’s afiairs, 
 but really throws between him and his creatures 
 such a train of agencies as utterly to cut them off 
 from his supervision. This philosophy concedes that 
 the ocean and the earth are kept in being by the 
 Divine power, but it denies that power any direct 
 agency in the shower that rises from the one and 
 fertilizes the other. The cause of this must be 
 sought in such agents as the law of evaporation, the 
 absorbing power of the air, and the condensing proc- 
 esses of the wind. Thus all these proximate causes 
 of the rain conspire to produce it by their own self- 
 directing agency, and God is excluded as a cause. 
 In this very same manner is the ever-present God 
 exiled from all the other operations of nature, so as 
 to make them strictly self-directed. 
 
 That loose hypothesis which ascribes to God a 
 general control over his universe, while it denies to 
 him an agency in all the particular functions of na- 
 ture^ has in it the elements of self-subversion. Is 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 91 
 
 it possible that the whole can be under the direct 
 agency of God, and yet no part of it be under that 
 agency? — that this can be true of the system, and 
 yet untrue of every element composing the system? 
 How can God control nature in the aggregate of its 
 processes, and yet every law by which these proc- 
 esses go on be independent of him? Can the whole 
 be any thing but the aggregate of its parts? Ee- 
 move all these, and you dissipate the whole. If no 
 system can exist in the absence of its parts, God can 
 not act on the whole without acting on each of its 
 parts. Apply the principle to our species. How 
 can God act on the whole race without acting on 
 every nation? or on a single nation without includ- 
 ing individuals? It must, then, be as true that 
 God acts on every atom of the globe, as that he 
 acts on the entire mass which these atoms compose. 
 It must be as true that he superintends every indi- 
 vidual man, as that he does the entire race. It 
 must be no less certain of every particle of my 
 body, than of my whole body — of all the dew-drops 
 of the morning, than of the earth and ocean from 
 which they were exhaled. This position is entirely 
 untouched by any multiplication of second causes 
 between the agent and the effect. If these amount 
 to ten thousand, God must be no less in the last 
 than in the first — no less in all the intermediate 
 ones than in the two extremes. He acts in the last 
 no less than if none preceded it. He acts in the 
 creature in the very event which was supposed to 
 
92 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 supersede his action. Not only is this entire chain 
 of events upheld by his omnipotence, but he lives 
 and acts along on every link composing it. 
 
 What is usually called the operations of nature 
 must, then, really be the uniform action of God. By 
 this is not intended the result of God’s former agency, 
 or of his occasional agency, or of his indirect agency, 
 or of his partial agency ; but of such an agency as 
 was requisite to the creating of something out of 
 nothing. So that, in the same sense and with the 
 same force, we affirm that without creating power 
 what is could never have been, we maintain that, 
 without the continued action of the same power, 
 what is could never continue to be. Therefore, 
 there can be no more room for something to inter- 
 vene between God’s present act in preserving na- 
 ture and nature itself, than there could have been 
 between his creating acts and the world he created. 
 
 If, then, any middle ground is utterly impossible 
 between the direct action of God in each movement 
 of nature and the purely mechanical theory, our 
 faith must be entire in one or the other. If the 
 machine of the universe has been constructed to 
 operate with mechanical power — if it be self-regu- 
 lative and self-preserving, then the circle circum- 
 scribing all created things excludes from them a 
 God. But if mere matter be not replenished with 
 these highest functions of mind, then all its move- 
 ments, over the whole sweep of the universe, are 
 those of the Infinite Deity. Nor can the' truth of 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 93 
 
 this conclusion be impaired by that analogy insti- 
 tuted between the maker of a clock and the Artificer 
 of the world. ^^When the former has finished his 
 machine, it will continue measuring time after the 
 maker of it has retired to his grave. Why may 
 not? the mundane clock execute the purposes of its 
 Builder after he has retired from it?'’ By proving 
 this analogy to be utterly false, we shall thereby 
 neutralize the argument drawn from it. What, 
 then, is the whole work of the clock-maker? Sim- 
 ply to modify the action of existing force by a new 
 arrangement of the known properties of matter. 
 What is the work of the World-Maker? It is to so 
 act on every atom of matter that its properties and 
 the force that attends it may not cease. In making 
 the clock of the world go, then, God must inces- 
 santly supply that very force without which the 
 clock of art would be motionless as death. Is it, 
 then, possible to conceive of two things more radi- 
 cally unlike than the demand of these two machines 
 for the continued agency of their fabricators? If 
 the constructed clock runs solely because God’s 
 agency acts on all its materials, how can it follow 
 that the processes of nature would go on were his 
 agency withdrawn from the system? It is, then, a 
 grand sophism to reason from the movements of the 
 clock, in its contriver’s absence, to the movements 
 of nature in its Creator’s absence. 
 
 The UNIFOEMITY with which the Divine will acts 
 on nature has allured inquirers into the belief that 
 
94 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 this action is mechaniGal. But does not our mental 
 structure prove us gifted with powers to pierce the 
 vail which uniform action draws over the Agent 
 which acts ? Because the course of action witnessed 
 among human agents is often fitful and changing, is 
 it modest to transfer similar mutations to the*ac- 
 tion of the Infinite Agent ? Does the objector really 
 conceive that to produce the uniformity which na- 
 ture presents from age to age, it was needful the 
 whole mass should be one vast machine? — that it 
 was more difficult for God to act uniformly than for 
 him to construct a complicated system to act so? 
 Aside from the absolute impossibility of thus making 
 a material system self-active, how would its being 
 so relieve Omnipotence? Is not uniform and all- 
 pervading action as easy ^or him whose infinity pre- 
 cludes this and all other comparison? Had God 
 made the mundane system capable of all the func- 
 tions which we know to be discharged in its move- 
 ments, it would be the brightest intelligence that 
 has ever flourished within the circle of the sun. 
 The peerless sagacity with which it adapts means to 
 ends, proves it capable of the highest moral func- 
 tions for which created intellects are formed. Such 
 absurdities must be embraced, or the incessant ac- 
 tion of God on nature must be admitted. For the 
 vain conclusion must be abandoned, that God has 
 thrust something in between himself and the ma- 
 terial universe. Were that something matter, the 
 case is not relieved; it remains powerless as the 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 95 
 
 mass it is supposed to move. Were it mind, then 
 we have reached the Supreme whom we seek, but 
 nothing between him and his works. 
 
 Nor can it be validly objected that to refer the 
 regular movements of nature to the uniform action 
 of God, is to remove all ground of confidence in the 
 stability of nature. We demand with emphasis. 
 Why does the uniform operation of the Divine Will 
 furnish a feebler foundation for instruction from the 
 experience of the past, and for confidence in what 
 reposes in the bosom of the future, than would the 
 most rigid mechanical structure of the universe? 
 Can infinite energies and skill find greater embar- 
 rassment in continued, uniform action, than in con- 
 structing a machine to perform such action? This 
 doctrine of the unremitting agency of God on every 
 atom of the universe, leaves scope for him to vary 
 his operations as the exigencies of his kingdom may 
 require — to work both within and beyond the broad 
 compass of his usual operations. This view also 
 presents a miracle in a most intense and imposing 
 light. As that consists in a suspension of the so- 
 called laws of nature, if these laws are God's action, 
 then, as no power in the universe short of Omnipo- 
 tence can suspend them, every miracle wrought to 
 authenticate a Divine message must be the Al- 
 mighty’s work. Our principle discriminates with 
 the utmost precision between the Divine agency in 
 nature and in a miracle. It does not ascribe a 
 miracle to the hand of God, and the operations of 
 
96 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 nature to a constitution which God gave it when he 
 created it; but it makes the one his ordinary action, 
 and the other his extraordinary action. It requires 
 a miracle to be viewed, not as a suspension or in- 
 version of some wheel in the complicated system of 
 instruments so as to peril the regularity of its fu- 
 ture movements, but merely the operation of God in 
 a direction differing from that in which he other- 
 wise unceasingly acts. It repudiates as preposterous 
 the idea that a miracle is a sudden act of Jehovah's 
 newly-awakened energies, which, after the slumber 
 of ages, have just been summoned into requisition — 
 that God suddenly arrested in its movements the 
 clock-work of the universe, which ages ago he had 
 wound up to run through all time without his fur- 
 ther interference. It is not within the narrow 
 sphere of a few miracles that the Infinite Hand is 
 in operation, but through that broad range which 
 the golden compass of creative skill had prescribed 
 to the universe. 
 
 The teachings of the Scriptures so entirely har- 
 monize with this view of providence as to give it 
 the highest possible authority. They teach us, in a 
 thousand varying forms, that ^^God upholds all 
 things by the word of his power." Not by mechan- 
 ical laws which could act in his absence — not by 
 powerless instruments, inert as the masses on which 
 they are assumed to act — not by the constitution 
 of nature, as though the mere mode of its existence 
 were the power that preserved its being; but by 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 97 
 
 that stupendous energy, at whose bidding all things 
 arose from total emptiness. As an object falls at 
 the withdrawal of the hand which sustained it, so, 
 it is here intimated, would the creation sink were 
 Infinite energies Avithdrawn which now support it. 
 Thus, when we speak of God’s intimate presence, 
 vastly more is intended than the limitless diffusion 
 of his essence. This all-pervading infinity is a ne- 
 cessity of his nature, but the exertion of power is a 
 matter of volition, and it is the universality of this 
 exertion which is here afiirmed. We should, then, 
 mark with thrilling interest the relations sustained 
 by ourselves, and by our Author, to the material 
 universe. In this we meet him, as he is never ab- 
 sent from one particle of it — as its movements are 
 his action. He perpetually addresses even our 
 senses. Not only is he in the sun, in whose ra- 
 diancy worlds are bathing — in the stars, that have 
 for ages glittered on the mantle of light — in our 
 globe, which has swallowed a hundred generations — 
 but in the nearest and minutest objects around us. 
 He acts on the walls which inclose us, on the seats 
 which we occupy, on the garments that cover us. 
 He acts in every object we touch, in every sight we 
 see, in every sound we hear. He acts on all the 
 limbs of our bodies, in every particle composing 
 them, in every globule of blood which courses 
 through them, in every breath of air giving vital- 
 ity to that fluid. The presence and action of God 
 are not here asserted figuratively, but literally. He 
 
98 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 acts on every particle composing my frame as liter- 
 ally and really as I act in opening and closing my 
 hand. If, then, we thus live in his never-reposing 
 energies — if these surround us as do the ocean waters 
 their inhabitants — if they act through us as does 
 the sunlight through the air — then have we no ar- 
 ticle of property, no companion in life, so near us as 
 God — then may we as readily escape from ourself as 
 from him. Though we do not see him, or feel him, 
 or hear him, our certainty of his presence is no less 
 absolute than if, by pressure, by voices, visions, he 
 addressed all our senses — no less than if we saw 
 him as we do the glories of the noon — no less than 
 if we felt him as we do the embraces of a friend, or 
 heard him as we do the thunder of the clouds. 
 With what repugnancy, then, should we spurn 
 away that pernicious dogma which places God at an 
 unapproachable distance from man, so that more 
 than the visible heavens separates him from his 
 earthly orphans! How profound, then, should be 
 our reverence — how hallowed our emotions — how 
 unintermitting our obedience! 
 
 Having discussed the subject of Divine agency in 
 its relation to irresponsible nature, we next inquire 
 INTO THE Divine Eelations to Moral Agents. 
 
 It is inherent in perfect governments to vary as 
 do the classes of subjects under its sway. The in- 
 organic mass, the vegetable organism, irrational 
 brutes, and thinking men, could never be grouped 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 99 
 
 together under the same laws. That Divine force, 
 which we have explicitly connected with irresponsi- 
 ble nature, can never reign over probationary mind. 
 That these two classes of beings require a govern- 
 ment dissimilar as the natures that compose them, 
 strikes us with the light of intuitive vision. There 
 is, indeed, one point at which the Divine agency is 
 identical in its relation to mind and matter. That 
 point is preservation. The demand for supporting 
 power is exactly equal in both; it is absolute in 
 both. Mind, no more than matter, has any co5p- 
 erating agency in its continued existence. The in- 
 trinsic energy of mind does not lie at the point of 
 preservation; here it is no less powerless than mat- 
 ter. Omnipotence, therefore, acts alone^ no less in 
 preserving mind than in keeping matter in being. 
 But the work of mere preservation is the point at 
 which the ways of Providence divide in governing 
 these two substances — mind and matter. In con- 
 trolling the latter. Divine power is no less absolute 
 than in bringing something out of nothing. In 
 governing the former, it consults that inherent prin- 
 ciple of self-action without which mind could not be 
 mind. 
 
 But to avoid a ruinous blunder at the very 
 threshold of the discussion, let us distinguish be- 
 tween the extent and the nature of mental action. 
 Though it is absolutely essential to mind to be self- 
 originating in its sphere of action, yet that sphere 
 is contracted within narrow and impassable limits. 
 
100 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 It would be alien to its powers and relations for our 
 mind to be free from the control of commanding 
 authority and corresponding obligations. This free- 
 dom appertains only to the Mind Almighty. Nor 
 is ours free from the moral imbecility superinduced 
 by sin. To glorified spirits exulting in light this 
 freedom belongs. Nor have we immunity from the 
 sufferings of mortality. This invests only unfallen 
 mind. Nor have we freedom to act independent of 
 OCCASIONAL causes. To whatever other mind this 
 independence may belongs it is not the prerogative 
 of human mind. But the freedom of the soul 
 reaches precisely to that limit which measures its 
 obligations. Beyond that it can not go with all 
 the supernatural aid afforded it by the atonement. 
 Short of that it can not be restricted without 
 making its obligations an injustice. By heedfully 
 computing these restrictions, we shall find the fixed 
 limits beyond which Providence never operates for- 
 cibly on human agents. Between that agency, re- 
 stricted by these limits, in governing mind, and 
 that which preserves mind in existence, there lies 
 a gulf too vast for our intellect to span. Though 
 all our searchings may be baffled to ascertain the 
 precise point at which God’s and man's agency meet 
 in human action, no uncertainty shades the terri- 
 tory which divides between self-action and in- 
 strumental ACTION. 
 
 A large class of philosophic theologians, both of 
 scholastic ages and modern times, have so grouped 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 101 
 
 together all the agents and instruments in the uni- 
 verse as to make them sustain essentially the same 
 relation to the Supreme Agent, The immense skill 
 and erudition which have been tasked from age to 
 age to defend this position, evince its intrinsic dif- 
 ficulty, and the array against it of the common con- 
 victions of the race. This far-reaching question of 
 ages, whether the human mind be self active, like 
 the Divine Mind, should have long since had an 
 affirmative adjustment. 
 
 When it shall become deeply fixed in our convic- 
 tions that any middle way between an instrument 
 and an agent is an impossibility, a tenable position 
 will be easy of attainment. It will then appear, 
 with intuitive clearness, that man is a mere instru- 
 ment^ or that he is, in the proper sense^ an agent. 
 If an instrument, then confessedly irresponsible; if 
 an agent, then in the highest sense author of his 
 own acts. Most that have ascribed to him the 
 former character, have done so from a misconcep- 
 tion of his relations to occasional causes. They 
 have identified his volitions with his sensibilities. 
 And as all men know that their emotions and de- 
 sires arise, in spite of them, from the fixed relation 
 God has given of the inward and outward systems, 
 these mental states can indicate not a shadow of 
 agency in man. The removal of all distinction, 
 then, between the volitions and sensibilities, is the 
 annihilation of all agency. But that true psychology 
 which makes the volitions of the mind its only ex- 
 
102 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 ecutive power, restores the Godlike faculty of self- 
 action to man. If our dependence on occasional 
 causes for action leaves untouched the self-origin- 
 ating power of action, then should it assuredly 
 never be substituted for that power, or in any 
 possible way be allowed to interfere with it. 
 
 If there be in the whole universe no power out 
 of mind, and no mind without power, then the ab- 
 sence of power is the great gulf dividing between 
 the universe of matter and the universe of mind. 
 To the one belongs the susceptibility of being acted 
 upon by energy from beyond itself; to the other, to 
 act from within its own resources. This spontaneity 
 of action belongs to men, angels, God — to the en- 
 tire universe of mind. Whatever is without this 
 is thereby excluded from the grand inclosure of 
 mind. It is of necessity, and to eternity, within the 
 dominion of matter. Did not this self-action belong 
 to mind, nothing had ever been. Mind was when 
 nothing else was. If it ever acted, therefore, it 
 must have done so without foreign influence, as all 
 else was then out of being. Nor would any action 
 in the universe ever have been possible were it not 
 intrinsic to mind to act. As that which can not 
 act of itself can never act at all, but only be acted 
 upon, were it not in mind to act, as it can be in 
 nothing else to act, all action would have been 
 impossible, and total emptiness would now reign 
 alone. 
 
 But the question may arise, whether all differences 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 103 
 
 between created and uncreated mind should thus be 
 merged in this grand distinction — self-activity of 
 mind? If self-activity belongs to all minds, then 
 whatever distinctions exist in the created and un- 
 created minds, they leave this the property of man 
 no less than if he were like God in all other re- 
 spects. We know nothing, for example, of that 
 peculiarity called self-existence. This, which is 
 the foundation of that incommunicable attribute — 
 eternity — can belong to no other. And were it true 
 of ten thousand other Divine perfections, how would 
 that affect self- activity j common to all mind? De- 
 pendence is inseparable from created mind — inde- 
 pendence from the creating mind. But dependence 
 for continued being can in no way be related to 
 independence in action while being lasts. Our con- 
 tinued existence is no less an effect of omnipotence 
 than was our first existence; and as it is an essen- 
 tial quality of every effect to be passive j how can 
 that affect the spontaneity of our action? The cir- 
 cumstance of God’s preserving the mind is no other- 
 wise related to self-activity than self-preservation 
 would have been. The preserved mind and the 
 preserving mind have, therefore, the power of self- 
 action — a property common to both, as it is essential 
 to all mind. The dependence of our mind, therefore, 
 at a point where passivity is the only possible state 
 of any being, can have no conceivable relations to 
 that state of mind where activity must be its own. 
 A clear conception of the necessary truth that one 
 
104 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 agency from its nature excludes all other agencies 
 from every act which is its own, will convince us 
 that the power of our action is entirely within us. 
 The contradiction of making an agent act can not 
 transpire within the range of omnipotence itself. 
 When Calvin and his school make the volitions of 
 man to be his own, and also to be produced by 
 Omnipotence, they overlooked this obvious principle, 
 that a volition could from its nature belong to none 
 but to the mind producing it. If a volition be merely 
 the mind acting^ does not its very nature exclude 
 all other agents from its production except the mind 
 that wills? Can more cloudless certainty be in any 
 axiom than that nothing but power can act; and 
 that this ceases to be power at the point where it 
 is overpowered ? To speak, therefore, of making 
 an agent act is utter confusion of ideas, and the 
 grossest perversion of language. Of this power 
 of originating volition we have the same evidence 
 which attends all first principles — not the certainty 
 of consciousness, but the evidence of original sug- 
 gestion. Every man is conscious of mental action; 
 by the structure of his mind he refers the action to 
 the perceiving agent. Let him attempt a thousand 
 times to refer it to another — it is out of his power. 
 His Creator, then, necessitates self-recognition 
 in determining the actor. Can there be, therefore, 
 within the precincts of mind another first principle 
 more firmly fixed at the basis of human knowledge? 
 Is there not upon me the same constitutional neces- 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 105 
 
 sity of referring my inward acts to myself as of re- 
 ferring any quality to a substance, or any event to 
 a cause? The incontestable conclusion is, that the 
 Supreme Agent never produces the acts of subor- 
 dinate agents — that he never does it directly or 
 indirectly, in whole or in part, by the agency of 
 others, by any array of motives, or by any other 
 thing or being in the universe. 
 
 Is it alleged that the proof is equally invincible 
 that God produces all human acts ; that we should 
 never reject one of these two propositions, because 
 we are unable to perceive the harmony of both; 
 ^Hhat, therefore, we are bound to believe both that 
 man is a free agent and that God produces all his 
 volitions?’' Never was there a sophism coiled in 
 so brief a statement more summarily subservient to 
 error. There are a thousand examples in the Bible 
 in which the point of harmony between two ideas 
 lies beyond our mental compass. But what has 
 this to do with contradictions? The darkness of 
 mystery covers the former — the light of evidence 
 shows the conflict of the latter. The distinction is 
 so glaring between unperceived harmony and direct 
 opposition in ideas, that the one will be the expe- 
 rience of all created mind forever, and the other 
 has no existence but in misconception. This is pre- 
 cisely the distinction between the alleged and the 
 real state of the case before us. The difficulty is 
 not in being unable to show how it is so, but in 
 clearly perceiving that it is impossible to be so. 
 
106 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 By thus confounding simple obscurity with palpable 
 contradiction, error has escaped detection, and truth 
 has languished under the most unjust imputations. 
 We protest against placing at eternal odds these 
 immutable principles of truth. It is authorizing a 
 test by which the highest verities may be brought 
 into doubt, and the most repugnant principles in- 
 dicated as truths. 
 
 In passing, a glance at least must be taken at the 
 objection found in God’s foreknov/ledge against man’s 
 freedom. This was urged by the school of necessi- 
 tarians, both of the fifth century and of the six- 
 teenth century. They alleged that ^Ghe foreknowl- 
 edge of God precluded the possibility of freedom 
 in the will of man; that this certainty of events 
 could never allow of their occurring otherwise; that, 
 therefore, man’s freedom in acting, and God’s fore- 
 knowledge of his acts, could never both be true.” 
 Have the distinguished advocates of this binding 
 influence of God’s knowledge on man’s powers ap- 
 plied their principle through the whole range of its 
 legitimate bearings? Have they traced it to not 
 only whatever is done by man, or angel, or devil, 
 but to every possible achievement of Almighty God 
 himself? Can it be doubted whether the Infinite 
 Mind knows its own volitions? Must not that 
 knowledge bind him with the same fetters with 
 which it necessitates every human volition? The 
 sphere of the Divine knowledge being infinite, it 
 must have included all the acts of his omnipotence, 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 107 
 
 even when that had no field for action but that 
 mind itself. Do its advocates perceive that they 
 thus dethrone Omnipotence — that they reduce the 
 great God to a mere instrument of foreign power? 
 They can not be permitted to rest in a partial ap- 
 plication of this desolating principle. It must have 
 influence no where, or it must sweep over all the 
 conceivable agencies in the universe. It must leave 
 man free, or it must have bound his Maker from 
 eternity. Had these fearful bearings of God’s fore- 
 knowledge suggested themselves to Luther, he could 
 never have pronounced it ^^a thunderbolt to dash 
 to atoms man's free will." The fallacy of this con- 
 clusion, from the certainty of events which God s 
 foreknowledge of them secures to him, should be 
 clearly exposed. The fallacy lies in confounding 
 causal necessity with axiomatical necessity. The 
 former consists in a producing power; the latter, 
 in the impossibility of an event cotemporaneously 
 being in two opposite states. The one regards the 
 agency by which it was brought about; the other, 
 merely the fact of its being as it is. The one con- 
 nects the event with its cause; the other has not 
 the remotest reference to cause. To confound these 
 two most dissimilar kinds of necessity, which are 
 no more alike than the order of ideas and an act 
 of creation, can not but result in fallacious conclu- 
 sions. This clear perception between what causes 
 an event and what necessitates it to not be some- 
 thing else after it has occurred, will divest perfect 
 
108 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 knowledge of the event of every shadow of causal 
 relation to it. 
 
 The proper agency of man and the causal neces- 
 sity of his volitions are mutually exclusive. What- 
 ever evidence evinces the presence of one proves 
 the absence of the other. All the claims of God, 
 solemnly urged upon man in the Divine Word, 
 make the grand assumption that it is he, not his 
 Maker, which is to act. This entire class of Divine 
 assumption, involved in every written word uttered 
 from heaven, is the highest conceivable proof of the 
 principle assumed. The mode, therefore, in which 
 Divine Providence operates on the human mind, in 
 all its actings, is totally unlike that in which it 
 directs irresponsible beings. It acts on mind by 
 gentle incentives, surrounding it by motives like 
 circles of conflicting advisers. But if the world of 
 mind and the world of matter are thus placed from 
 each other, at a distance which can never be re- 
 moved or diminished — if the former be invested 
 with a power like God, and the latter be no less 
 without it than nonentity itself — if one can know 
 itself and the mighty Agent which kindled its 
 powers into intellectual being, and the other know 
 not even its own existence — how much more does 
 mind than matter deserve the ever-active care of 
 Providence? All the evidence proving God’s con- 
 stant agency on matter must avail to show his care 
 of mind, as what is unconscious must have been 
 made and preserved for that which is conscious. 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 109 
 
 As we have just seen, God actually pervades all 
 the system — that he is in all hight and all depth — 
 in what is vast and in what is minute — in the float- 
 ing atom and in the rolling world — in the fall of 
 the sparrow to the ground and in the spheres of 
 the mundane system — in the life of the insect of a 
 day and in all the animal tribes that people the 
 globe ; as we have shown this stupendous care 
 ramifies all these extremes, how can it be absent 
 from those for whom this physical system was con- 
 structed? Beings glowing in their Maker’s image 
 can not be abandoned of his never-sleeping care to 
 perpetual orphanage. 
 
 Let us, then, examine the scope of his Peovi- 
 DENCE, as exercised toward us in the variety of the 
 humoM character and condition. 
 
 Though every man’s action belongs entirely to 
 himself no less than if he were self-sustaining, the 
 results of his actions belong to an economy which 
 operated before he existed. That the thoughts, 
 feelings, volitions, and affairs of men, are under 
 the inspecting and guiding care of God, the Scrip- 
 tures, combining with the nature of moral govern- 
 ment, make indubitable. The aeronaut may retain 
 his weight or cast it down, but he can not control 
 the rate of speed at which it shall fall, or the effects 
 it shall produce in what it strikes. The act of cast- 
 ing it down was his — the laws governing its fall 
 were God’s. The principle illustrated by this is 
 universal in its application. The agent is sole 
 
110 
 
 LECTUEE3 AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 author of his acts, but Providence modifies their 
 bearings. This principle is every-where exemplified 
 in the graphic stories of the Jewish patriarchs, in 
 the inspired history of the judges and kings of 
 Israel, and in the picture, divinely drawn, of the 
 prominent actors in the New Testament. Had the 
 history of other nations been sketched by the same 
 Heaven-guided hand, in its most striking exhibitions 
 would be found the recognition of the same prin- 
 ciple. Such a history of the race would trace the 
 Divine Hand, not alone in the destruction of Car- 
 thage being occasioned by the sight of a fig in the 
 Senate of Eome, or the detection of the gunpowder 
 plot by the finding of a lost letter, but in rearrang- 
 ing the entire train of human transactions, and in 
 giving to it a new direction. The fact that such 
 an agency presides over the ordinary business affairs 
 of men is clearly assumed by St. James, where he 
 teaches that, in matters of mere traffic, ^^Ye ought 
 to say. If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this 
 or that.” The same principle of God s controlling 
 human events is involved in the Divine assurance 
 of answer to prayer. This, in a thousand instances, 
 supposes the bestowment of that on the suppliant 
 which he would not otherwise receive. Did not the 
 Supreme Agency control all events, how could this 
 assurance be true ? How could he suspend their par- 
 ticular application on the free act of his servants’ 
 prayers? How could he do this through the whole 
 range of the millions of his supplicating creatures? 
 
DIVINE PKOVIDENCE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Is it, then, objected that ^Hhis arrays the com- 
 mon administration of God in the character of a con- 
 tinued miracle?’’ This is true in a single aspect, 
 but not so as to give any force to the objection. 
 The power that preserves our existence — that an- 
 swers our prayers for temporal benefits, and that 
 works miracles for the establishing of a religion, 
 clothes the same Agent, and is exercised with the 
 same directness. But this identity in the Agent 
 and directness in his operations leave scope for all 
 needful distinction in these various departments of 
 Divine action. The work of preservation, consisting 
 in God’s incessant action, makes no demand for his 
 departure from uniformity of action. The work of 
 answering prayer, in controlling some external 
 events in the suppliant’s behalf, is action by a Hand 
 so concealed as not seeming to depart from its uni- 
 form mode of action. A miracle is God suspending 
 his usual operations, and acting, in that instance, in 
 another direction, to certify, for a great public pur- 
 pose, his direct interference. The variety of the 
 Divine action, therefore, in these three diSerent 
 spheres, exactly corresponds to the variety of ob- 
 jects had in view. These objects being continued 
 existence, the encouragement of piety, and the au- 
 thentication of a new religion, all demand direct 
 Divine agency, but that agency diversified in its 
 mode of acting so as to answer respectively these 
 ends. The first purpose — preservation — is carried 
 
 on with so entire a uniformity as to vail the power 
 
 10 
 
112 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES- 
 
 which acts. The second — the support of piety — is 
 performed with a skill which conceals any marked 
 arrest in the current of affairs. The third — ^the 
 authentication of new truth — strikes the senses of 
 men with an overpowering conviction of God’s 
 agency in the event. The directness of the action 
 and the identity of the Agent, in these three spheres, 
 can, by no means, occasion any clashing in the ob- 
 jects. Did supernatural agency often exert itself in 
 the form of miracles, the purposes of society could 
 not fail to be frustrated. For example, were the 
 day frequently to be prolonged, as by Joshua — bread 
 often to be multiplied, as by our Lord— -or the dead 
 numerously to be raised, as the widow’s son, the 
 settled principles of social life would be ruinously 
 shaken. The alarming disturbance in the settled 
 order of nature would introduce confusion in the 
 seasons, and peril the harvests of every clime; or 
 the incentives to diligence would be utterly want- 
 ing, and the chill of apathy reduce society to a 
 stagnant mass ; or the care of life would be fearfully 
 abandoned, and persons so numerously disappear 
 that the pangs of the surviving and the waste of 
 society would become insupportable. But the im- 
 portance of each of these spheres of Divine action 
 remaining distinct, can create not the slightest ob- 
 stacle to the directness of that action. 
 
 In accordance with this directness of God’s agency 
 in all these departments, are the unequivocal ascrip- 
 tions of his Word. These no more exclude his hand 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 113 
 
 from the ordinary movements of nature, or from the 
 common events of life, than from the most over- 
 whelming displays of miraculous agency. They ar- 
 range all the movements and all the elements of the 
 universe in one grand array of instrumentalities, 
 instinct with no life but his action. If these run 
 on his messages — fulfill his commandments — execute 
 his counsels, they operate only as instruments. If 
 the falling shower supplies the thirsty fields, it is 
 our '^Father in heaven who sends it on the just and 
 unjust.’' If the valleys smile with verdure, it is 
 ^^God that clothes the grass of the field.” Does the 
 diurnal revolution bring to us the sweet vicissitudes 
 of day and night ? It is he that turns the shadow 
 of death into the morning, and maketh the day dark 
 with night.” When the fearful powers of nature 
 are at war, Flames of fire are his messengers, and 
 stormy winds fulfill his word.” 
 
 By another class of Scriptures, the Infinite agency 
 is made equally direct in the most ordinary events 
 of individual life. If I languish in sickness, I am 
 assured ^Hhat the rod of God is upon me.” Is my 
 guidance safe through the labyrinth of perplexing 
 events? It is in harmony with that comprehensive 
 promise, In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he 
 will direct thy paths.” Do mountainous calamities 
 press me down past my power of endurance? Point- 
 ing me to his ever-active agency, God says, ^^Call 
 on me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver 
 thee.” Then, ^Ghou shalt not be afraid of the pest- 
 
114 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 ilence tliat walketh in the darkness, nor for the 
 destruction that wasteth at noonday/' 
 
 Nor can it be urged that these explicit assur- 
 ances of interference with our ordinary events be- 
 long to the miraculous portion of the Jewish econo- 
 my; for the very same agency is recognized in the 
 Christian Scriptures. They are replete with pas- 
 sages which teach the doctrine involved in the assur- 
 ance that God numbers the hairs of our heads, so that 
 one can not drop from its place without his notice. 
 Why are good men forbidden to indulge carking 
 care for to-morrow ? Because their Heavenly Father 
 careth for them. That is, his care for them extends 
 to their little wants of to-morrow. The inspired ex- 
 pressions here grouped together in the first class, 
 are clearly expressive of God’s agency in the most 
 ordinary processes of nature — in the successive re- 
 currence of day and night, and in those similar 
 movements in the material system, which have ever 
 been uniform since the creation arose. Those in the 
 second class show, with the clearness of light, that 
 every event in the good man’s history is under the 
 immediate control of Almighty Power. And such 
 as the third class represents exhibit the manner in 
 which devout prayer modifies the Infinite counsels 
 toward earnest suppliants. But not only do large 
 classes of Scriptures teach this direct agency of 
 Providence in these various spheres, it is required 
 by the broad principles on which revelation, as a 
 whole, proceeds. The abundant evidence of this. 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 115 
 
 inherent in the nature and purposes of a revelation 
 to man, might be readily educed did not our limits 
 preclude the discussion. Nor can we more than 
 hint at the demand of government, for this direct 
 agency, on the perfections of the Governor. These 
 are such as not only to prove them adequate to 
 such agency, but as to show the government defect- 
 ive without it. So deeply is the Divine omniscience 
 stamped with infinity ^ as to make the withholding 
 of God’s knowledge from any object an impossibility. 
 The greatest — the smallest in the whole chain of 
 being, with all the intermediate links of that chain, 
 must be naked and open to that broad and piercing 
 eye. Omnipresence — the universal diffusion of God’s 
 essence — equally precludes his absence from any ex- 
 isting thing; and such are his governmental rela- 
 tions as never to be an inactive spectator. His al- 
 mightiness is eternal security against fatigue by any 
 amount of incessant care and effort. Power without 
 limits must be without exhaustion. Nor is there a 
 moral perfection of the Divine nature which does 
 not call into requisition these natural attributes in 
 the exercise of this direct agency. 
 
 Can a being, glowing in the full-orbed splendor 
 of such perfections — perfections all radiant with 
 holiness — fail to manage the events of the universe, 
 to counteract sin, and bring in an everlasting right- 
 eousness? To Jehovah sin is infinitely hateful, and 
 would never have broken in on the order of his 
 government, but for the self-perversion of created 
 
116 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 agents. Nor would the loathsome monster survive 
 an hour, but for the intrinsic demand of agency to 
 remain unforced forever. The intense opposition of 
 these two antagonisms makes it impossible that the 
 
 Father of lights” should not incessantly operate 
 to counteract this frightful contagion of his uni- 
 verse. No bound but non-interference with free- 
 agency can limit that operation. 
 
 To allege that a moral governor can see with in- 
 difference the infraction of his holy law, is too shock- 
 ing to require refutation. But to affirm that God 
 exerts no agency in suppressing rebellion, is not less 
 blasphemous. This necessity, therefore, of God’s 
 direct agency, in all transpired events under his 
 government, arises out of the very nature of these 
 perfections on which his government rests. 
 
 As it is certain that the physical system of the 
 universe runs up into the moral system, and has the 
 accomplishment of its grand design in this, the evi- 
 dence of direct agency in the one is the proof of it 
 in the other. 
 
 The ancient objection — a thousand times refuted — 
 ^Ghat it would be unworthy of an Infinite Mind to 
 occupy itself with concerns which are below the at- 
 tention of a wise man,” is rendered powerless by the 
 simple fact that this same Mind originated these 
 very objects. Can they be worthy to have occupied 
 creating power, and unworthy to engage superin- 
 tending care? Indeed, the fact that they are the 
 fruit of that power and skill is an absolute indem- 
 
DIVINE PKOVIDENCE. 
 
 117 
 
 nity against their being abandoned by the. same 
 Infinite Agent. How is it possible more daringly 
 to impeach the Divine character, than to suppose 
 our race, and the physical system to which it is 
 related, abandoned by the Father of spirits?’' — 
 than to suppose these minds, ^^made pictures of his 
 own eternity,” kindled into a burning desire to 
 drink unceasingly at the fountain of his own bliss, 
 should be cruelly cut off from his supervision? It 
 requires no abstruse process to show that this rejec- 
 tion of God’s providence involves the overthrow of 
 his justice. Convinced of this, the ancient Epicure- 
 ans rejected the latter when they denied the for- 
 mer. Those acute minds maintained that ^Gn the 
 Divine Mind there was a susceptibility of neither 
 favor nor anger.” Modern Epicureans, far less con- 
 sistent, embrace the moral character of God, while 
 they reject the only cogent evidence that any such 
 character invests him. How can a single moral 
 perfection adorn the Supreme Mind if it never in- 
 terpose to favor virtue, or to discountenance vice ? — 
 if it remain an indifferent spectator to the fierce 
 moral conflict of the universe? How could this 
 indifference be more explicitly and tremendously 
 demonstrated than by such utter non-interference? 
 
 That our nature is moral, and demands such su- 
 pervision, is made indubitable by great facts in our 
 constitution. These are recognized by experience 
 and revelation. When the Scriptures asserted that 
 ^Ghe Gentiles were a law unto themselves,” they 
 
118 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 affirmed a fact of the moral history of the whole 
 species — one entirely harmonizing with universal 
 experience. What generation of men was ever 
 known to approve of wrong ^ as such; or to disap- 
 prove of right j in this character? When was vice 
 ever known to promote the wellbeing of man, or 
 virtue to subvert his interests? This double proof 
 of our moral nature, arising from our own mental 
 structure, and from our unchanging relations to the 
 system around us, points with equal directness to 
 such a nature in the all-originating Mind. Could 
 a moral nature be in us and not in him, this high- 
 est tendency of our being would find, in the whole 
 universe, no corresponding object. A gulf which no 
 duration could bridge would divide us from him — 
 the discrepancy would be an eternal bar to all hu- 
 man communion with God. These never-changing 
 susceptibilities within us, then, must prove the 
 ceaseless agency of God for virtue, or blaspheme his 
 throne. Nor will the retributive power, which is 
 so deeply seated in our physical and social constitu- 
 tion, admit of any other conclusion. 
 
 How is it possible to view the punishment ever 
 inflicted by vicious habits, according to the laws of 
 this twofold constitution, without finding it a fear- 
 ful description of God’s changeless hostility to vice? 
 
 Some of the deepest lessons from heaven, taught 
 by the invisible God, have been inculcated by acts. 
 And what acts could be more expressive of the 
 moral nature of God than this moral, physical, and 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 119 
 
 social constitution, which, he has so deeply stamped 
 on man. When, by this constitution, the offender 
 is found inevitably to suffer disgrace, poverty, dis- 
 ease, mental agony, or an untimely end, how could 
 the Author of this structure more distinctly an- 
 nounce his abhorrence of vice by the blast of a 
 trumpet from heaven? 
 
 But the direct agency of Providence is more 
 strikingly visible in those sudden inflictions of high- 
 handed wickedness which have smitten nations and 
 individuals. Scarcely is there an ancient people, 
 sunk to the grave of nations, whose history makes 
 no record of some avenging stroke of Providence. 
 Whole nations have also been startled by sudden 
 visitations, which have arrested the dark and bloody 
 career of individuals. The mysterious detection 
 of crime, which had long eluded the searching eye 
 of justice — the rush of vengeance on the reckless, 
 while the words of blasphemy were yet scorching 
 their lips — the frightful fall of tyrants, while regal- 
 ing on the groans of their cherished victims — the 
 tragic fate of persecutors, who, like Herod, have 
 dropped by a sudden stroke from a viewless hand : 
 these, and kindred interpositions, with which his- 
 tory is replete — at which the boldest offenders have 
 shuddered — are vouchers for an ever active Provi- 
 dence. 
 
 It is not unknown to the advocates of God’s 
 direct agency that its opposers have made it im- 
 pugn his goodness. They have pointed to those 
 
 II 
 
120 
 
 LECTUBES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 severe calamities whicli have darkened the sphere 
 of man, and triumphantly demanded whether God 
 is their inflictor. Is it not amazing that it should 
 have escaped these objectors, that the evils of which- 
 they complain no less impugn Divine goodness by 
 resulting from their mechanical universe than from 
 the direct agency of its author? Has it not already 
 been made clear as light that no kind or number of 
 intervening instruments can diminish or even modify 
 the responsibility of the cause? Does not God act 
 *on precisely the same principle in making the in- 
 fliction by his own hand and in making it by the 
 working of a system which he established thou- 
 sands of years since? The sole question is, has 
 God done it ? not with what degree of indirectness 
 has he done it? 
 
 As, then, the objection lies with equal force 
 against the mechanical scheme as against that of 
 direct agency, if it have validity at all, it strikes at 
 the rectitude of Jehovah, and is purely of an infidel 
 character. No solution is found of this problem in 
 the assertion ^Ghat these evils are the results of 
 general laws, which laws are the foundation of the 
 regularity of nature, and the source of numberless 
 blessings to man.’' The light of evidence has ban- 
 ished every shadow of agency from law, and shown 
 that it is merely a uniform manner of an agent’s 
 action. Besides, all that the Supreme Agent pro- 
 duces has precisely the same relation to his char- 
 acter and to his creatures, when mixed up with ten 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE, 
 
 121 
 
 % 
 
 thousand other arrangements, as if remaining alone 
 in eternal separation. 
 
 But the objection is divested of all its apparent 
 validity by tlie two great facts of man’s history, 
 that he had apostatized, and that he has been 
 
 EEDEEMED. 
 
 If the principles be tenable which are vindicated 
 in this discourse, then the inference is just that in 
 the universe there are two classes of agents. These 
 are the Creator and the minds he has created. 
 The respects in which these two classes of agents 
 differ, and in which they are similar, have been 
 jointly indicated. This first great Agent, pecul- 
 iar in his unbeginning being, unbounded in his 
 never-tiring energies, immaculate in his unborrowed 
 purity, and undimmed in the glory of his harmo- 
 nious perfections, was once alone. Had he continued 
 alone j only bliss had been; had merely the material 
 system arisen, still naught but bliss had been. An 
 ability to do right is essential to the power of doing 
 wrong. The former always invested the Infinite 
 One; the latter can never belong to him. Of this 
 HE is gloriously incapable. All moral qualities are 
 ultimately tested by his perfections. For the same 
 reason these never began to be, they can never cease 
 to be what they are. The very idea that God could 
 do wrong involves in it the abolition of the only 
 test by which to determine the wrong. Could this 
 first Agent — ^Hhe Ancient of Days'' — therefore, do 
 wrong, there would remain in the whole universe 
 
122 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 no means of testing any quality of character. The 
 noon of holiness and the midnight of guilt would 
 blend their lights and shades in one homogeneous 
 mass. But the eternal bar to self-perversion is 
 found in the eminence of infinite perfections — the 
 necessity of his nature being what it is. All acts 
 are possible to him which are objects of power, but 
 to break the harmony of infinite perfections is not 
 such an object. The internal and absolute necessity 
 of the existence of those unbeginning perfections is 
 an eternal pledge to the universe of the Divine 
 rectitude. Whatever, therefore, clashes with holi- 
 ness has flowed from another fountain. Created 
 agents must as truly be its author as God is their 
 author. Not only is the reverse incapable of proof, 
 but impossible to be so. As we have seen, what- 
 ever evidence proves God can not sin demonstrates 
 that his intelligences can; because sin is in the uni- 
 verse, and none but a moral nature could have 
 introduced it. 
 
 Another conclusion authorized by these principles 
 is the visibility of God's invisible agency. If only 
 mind can act — if there be action wherever organ- 
 ized nature is — if it be such to which created mind 
 is inadequate — then does the action of God inces- 
 santly address our senses. This evidence is the 
 same in kind as that by which we know there is 
 mind in man. Were a skillful artist voiceless as 
 the movements of God in nature, the progress of his 
 work in the complicated machine he was construct- 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 123 
 
 ing would leave no doubt of his mental action: just 
 as little doubt of God’s action is left by the work- 
 ings of the great machine of nature. There his real 
 action is seen — not only in the moving planets, the 
 emanating sunbeams, the restricted ocean — not only 
 in those giant movements working out the profound 
 designs of nature — but in its minutest process, in 
 every grain of sand, in every drop of the bucket, 
 in every leaf of the forest, in the very microscopic 
 atom; so there is no one being in nature with whose 
 movements we are so conversant as with God’s. 
 
 Finally, in the light of this discussion, appears 
 the guiding providence of God, by which the events 
 of his universe are appropriated to his purposes. 
 
 Though every act of each created mind belongs to 
 that mind alone, the instant it transpires it passes 
 from the control of the actor to that of the all- 
 comprehending Mind, to be so directed by this 
 Supreme Agent as to thwart the designs of the 
 guilty and execute those of the pious actor. By 
 this action of a never-slumbering agency the hopes 
 of virtue are kindled. But for this not a moral 
 excellence could have survived before the fiery flood 
 of sin which for so many ages has swept over the 
 globe. But, under the management of that mys- 
 *teriously-controlling Power which presses vice out 
 of its dark direction, righteousness is destined to 
 raise its beauteous form, after the depression of 
 ages, amid the greetings of a disinthralled universe. 
 That agency, noiseless as the wings of light, is like 
 
124 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 that benign element every-where operating unspent. 
 Its immeasurable energy can be adequately symbol- 
 ized by no wealth of language — by no pomp of 
 figures. An angelic agency might be supposed so 
 numerous as to furnish one in charge of each atom 
 of matter; one for each emotion of all hearts; one 
 for every thought of all intellects; one for every 
 word uttered by all lips; one for each stage of 
 progress throughout the dominions of nature. What 
 would be the energy of this brilliant array of flam- 
 ing millions compared to that which works unseen 
 through all the powers and properties of the uni- 
 verse ? 
 
 All systems of ethics and philosophy which inter- 
 pose the smallest space or duration between God 
 and his works, when sifted to the bottom, will be 
 found spurious. 
 
 All true philosophy runs up into God, so as to 
 find every event in the grasp of his hand. Every 
 atom of the universe is more immediately controlled 
 by him than is the body of man by his mind that 
 moves it. To the same extent a hypothesis dispenses 
 with this control, it approaches the midnight gulf of 
 atheism; it impinges on the territory of pantheistic 
 gloom; it gives to oblivion that awe and trust in- 
 spired by the felt presence of the Eteenal Mind. 
 To those gross conceptions which confine the Infinite 
 Agency to the sphere of mind, and often to the celes- 
 tial abodes, is referable that semi-infidelity which 
 now chills the higher grades of mind. 
 
DIVINE PEOVIDENCE. 
 
 125 
 
 When full scope shall be given to the moral in- 
 stincts of our nature, under the guidance of the 
 higher generalization of truth — when this sim- 
 plicity of man’s infancy in the world’s morning, 
 which made him see the action, hear the voice, 
 and feel the hand of God — when this shall be 
 reenthroned in our religious nature, the Church 
 will become the light-house of the world. Its 
 piety will be more intense, purifying, thrilling, 
 aggressive. The Divine oracles will shine in their 
 primitive radiancy, and exert a sway commensurate 
 to their demand over the convictions of the heart. 
 
 And noWj to this always active Agent j ^Ghe only 
 wise God,” who is in all, and through all, and over 
 all, HIM be glory, and dominion, and praise, 
 forever and ever.” Amen, 
 
IV. 
 
 TRUTH: 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE LITERARY SOCI- 
 ETIES OF THE BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, CONCORD, 
 
 NEW HAMPSHIRE, NOVEMBER 2, 1852. 
 
 Youno Gentlemen of the Literary Socie- 
 ties, — The present is an anniversary occasion. It 
 forces on us a retrospective glance. But our work 
 of this hour is not to recall the past, how deep and 
 tender soever may be its remembered scenes. What 
 is stern and stirring in the deep solitude of a scholar 
 can never be forgotten. What is bright and vision- 
 like in the dreams of his reverie will be a lucid 
 point, which will never fade from the past. But the 
 occasion is devoted to a higher purpose than to 
 amuse you by a fancy picture of the past, or by 
 attempting to extort what still slumbers in the 
 bosom of the future. 
 
 It is other material than amusement of which the 
 student’s aliment consists. He demands truth — 
 truth in its deepest, highest, broadest range. He 
 needs to be assured, by evidence like vision, that 
 the scope given to his powers is fully commensurate 
 with the peerless grandeur of his destiny, and with 
 
128 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 all those solemn purposes preparatory to that des- 
 tiny. What, then, is our chosen mode of doing 
 this? It is: 
 
 1. To ENTER WITH YOU THE FlELD OF GENERAL 
 Truth. 
 
 II. To Designate the Qualifications indis- 
 pensable TO Explore that Field. Andj 
 
 III. To indicate the Present Demand on 
 Scholars to obtain these Qualifications. 
 
 We first attempt to designate several classes of 
 truth. There is in the universe necessary truth and 
 contingent truth. Truth of the former class demands 
 also a subdivision into such as are conditioned and 
 those which are unconditioned. 
 
 As a single instance to illustrate a conditioned 
 necessary idea, we advert to the reference we una- 
 voidably make of phenomena to their substance. 
 But created substance might not have existed; and 
 in that event there would have been no necessary 
 reference of phenomena to it, as then there could 
 have been no phenomena. Thus, what was made 
 unavoidable by a voluntary act, would have been 
 impossible without that act. The necessity is there- 
 fore a conditioned^ and not an eternal one. 
 
 2. Necessary ideas unconditioned are such as 
 whose non-existence is impossible, and the concep- 
 tion of whose non-existence is impossible. Such a 
 truth is ever attended with absolute conviction of 
 its necessity, and with a felt impossibility of sup- 
 posing the contrary. So far as this class of truth 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 129 
 
 comes within our knowledge, it is self-evident. 
 What may be the number of necessary truths within 
 the field of the universe, the contractedness of our 
 powers prohibits our knowing. Though in this 
 whole field there can be but one necessary being, 
 there may be innumerable necessary truths. We 
 know of such a truth in every attribute of God; 
 but we know neither the number of his attributes, 
 or the number of such truths contained in each 
 attribute. 
 
 Both these classes of necessary truths — condi- 
 tioned and unconditioned — are the logical anteced- 
 ents of all contingent truths, and all phenomena nec- 
 essarily refers us to those antecedents. Thus, effect 
 forces back to cause, quality to substance, succes- 
 sion to duration, body to space. By confounding 
 these phenomena with their antecedents, men have 
 cut themselves off from all the past, and sundered 
 every tie that binds them to any other principle or 
 being in the universe; and what they have done to 
 themselves they have done to all others, making 
 every being and thing an isolated individual, abso- 
 lutely alone amid the wild whirlings of chance. 
 
 Contingent ideas, or truth, is that the conception 
 of whose non-existence is possible. This class of 
 truth pervades the entire territory over which will 
 holds dominion. The term contingent is by no means 
 used in opposition to certainty, but merely in oppo- 
 sition to necessity. Whatever mere will has pro- 
 duced might not have been. As freedom is the law 
 
130 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 of the will, the action of that faculty ever involves 
 the possibility of the opposite. And as will is the 
 only causal agent in the universe, all which has 
 been produced might not have been. From many 
 sources the evidence of this is furnished ; we advert 
 to but one. This is found in the adaptation which 
 extends through the entire system of things. Look 
 at the ten thousand ties connecting the organic and 
 unorganized system of beings. These are numerous, 
 arbitrary, and delicate. Take a few instances : the 
 ear could not produce the air, or the air the ear. 
 Both could not produce the numerous and nice 
 adaptations evinced by all the varieties of sound. 
 Nor could the eye generate the light, or the light 
 the eye, or either anticipate the mysterious laws of 
 vision. The construction of all animals involves 
 numerous functions that presuppose the most aston- 
 ishing correspondence through the vast dominion 
 of material nature: such as the laws of the vege- 
 tables on which they subsist — of the air which is 
 vital to them; the law of gravity regulating their 
 circulation, which is modified by every pound weight 
 of our globe, and by every ounce of the central 
 sun, and every rod’s distance of the one from the 
 other. Take a single instance more from what is 
 palpable in every man’s own constitution. I allude 
 to the various kinds of sensibility with which each 
 nerve acting in the senses is endowed : thus, the 
 nerve of touch is insensible to the light. The nerve 
 of the eye is sensible to nothing else but light. In- 
 
TEUTH. 
 
 131 
 
 deed, tins arbitrary arrangement has been made in 
 nervous sensibility in every sense we possess. Does 
 not this wide variety of adaptations overwhelmingly 
 demonstrate the absence of all necessity, and the 
 dominion of sovereign willj and thus prove the con- 
 tingency of this entire class of truth? 
 
 Next to this class of truth may be adduced that 
 consisting of axioms^ or first principles. These are 
 distinguished by being the basis of all reasoning, 
 the foundation of every possible science. All that 
 is luminous in the mightiest argument, all that 
 radiancy in which the most splendid science glows, 
 shine in these first principles. Their light is there 
 or nowhere. Such principles lie at the bottom, not 
 of one science, but of all sciences. In geometry we 
 recognize them in such axioms as this : Things 
 
 equal to the same thing are equal to one another.” 
 But they substantially belong to all other sciences. 
 Instance that of logic : Where two terms agree 
 
 with one and the same thing, they agree with one 
 another.” 
 
 So then, we say that first principles, with various 
 modifications, are equally applicable and indispens- 
 able to all sciences. The light of evidence showing 
 their truthfulness is in themselves. The proof of it 
 is found in the fact that all men admit them, act on 
 them, and reason from them. That skepticism which 
 doubts them can prove nothing, nor can it disprove 
 any thing ; as both these depend entirely on that 
 very truthfulness which it denies. Skepticism, 
 
132 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 therefore, is doomed to expire by that very wound 
 by which its victim falls. 
 
 From this view of axiomatic principles we pass 
 to glance at the distinction between objective and 
 subjective truth. That which is subjective lies solely 
 within the precincts of the mind itself. That which 
 is objective regards all that lies beyond those pre- 
 cincts. These, then, are two palpably-different 
 worlds. We become acquainted with them respect- 
 ively by means totally dissimilar. All the known 
 properties of the one are utterly unlike those of the 
 other. And yet the pseudo-science of the East,* 
 and the modern idealism of Europe, engulf the 
 whole objective universe in the individual mind. 
 Those powerful metaphysicians which rank with 
 Kant and Fichte have thus dishonored both psy- 
 chology and genius. They commence by apparently 
 exalting the thinking element within us, alleging that 
 
 In the relation of the subjective to the objective — of man to the 
 universe — lies that unsolved problem on which whole ages of thought 
 have been unsuccessfully expended. About no other great question 
 of antiquity have glowed more brilliant speculations of philosophic 
 genius. The most indefatigable explorers in that ethereal region 
 have found no way open from the personal to the impersonal; from 
 the individual to the universal. All the systems, in every successive 
 school, by which anxious minds have essayed to bridge this separa- 
 ting gulf, have found one common limit beyond which they could 
 generate no light. Our race, in its childhood, cradled in the sultry 
 climes of the East, speculated itself into a monotheism, in which was 
 the living germ of pantheism. This was a death-blow to all the 
 active powers of individual consciousness ; it was such an overshad- 
 owing sense of the Infinite as could not but arise from this utter 
 absorption of the individual in the universal. Indeed, it left no per- 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 133 . 
 
 it dwells in its own principles of life ; that it is an 
 energy of being irrespective of the body — an inde- 
 pendent divinity within us. Still higher honor is 
 accorded to our spiritual nature. It is made capa- 
 ble of thoughts and emotions foreign to the senses 
 and to externality; far superior to ^^all grossness, 
 all the fluctuations, and all the dissolutions of mate- 
 rial things,” so that in a sublime existence it pur- 
 sues its felicitous inquiries in a sphere exclusively 
 its own. 
 
 Another advance is likewise made in this dazzling 
 career by asserting innate thoughts'; thoughts ante- 
 rior to thinking, knowledge independent of study- 
 ing. From this dizzy hight, the system, waxing 
 bold, takes another daring leap, and reaches the fatal 
 conclusion that man’s spiritual nature is self-living, 
 self-advancing; that itself is all that really exists; 
 that the external world is the mind's own forms, 
 
 manent relations to be traced between the one and the many. It made 
 unity and plurality — not two classes, but an insoluble whole. There 
 was in the universe no such relation as cause and effect, but only that 
 of substance and atjtributes. Thus the iron hand of necessity was alike 
 on the one and the many ; on the substance and the attributes ; on 
 God and on all that had flowed from him. Under the mysterious 
 sway of that unknown power were all the visible and unseen move- 
 ments in the universe. This fatalistic spell generated a deathlike 
 indifference, which for thousands of years has left unbroken the slum- 
 bers of Oriental mind. Neological Germany, abandoning her revealed 
 guide, has strayed into the same misty regions. Other elements, 
 peculiar to Western mind, will preclude that immobility of life, that 
 abandonment of self, which are the legitimate offspring of panthe- 
 ism ; but they can never shut out that delirious atheism which madly 
 breaks away from all the first principles of thought. 
 
134 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 transferred by fancy, so as to appear an outward 
 scene. Objects without exist merely as mental affec- 
 tions; reality is solely in the mind itself. This 
 dark idealism annihilates the vital center of the 
 universe, and turns to a fancy-dream our high com- 
 munion with our living Parent. 
 
 Opposite to this bewitching idealism is the cheer- 
 less theory of materialism. The sum of this is that 
 the mind is simply a refined faculty of the hody» 
 Those reckless dogmatizers who reasoned themselves 
 into this degrading faith, took their position on the 
 conclusion of Locke, that sensation and reflection 
 were the only sources of our knowledge, and, by a 
 single bound, made a monstrous leap to the conclu- 
 sion, ^Hhat sensation comprehends man's whole be- 
 ing." This makes man, with all his melting sympa- 
 thy and towering intellect, a creation of the outward 
 world. Something infinitely below the Almighty's 
 breath will fan up the living fires in the organized 
 lump of breathless matter. This gross sensualism 
 perceives only matter through the entire range of 
 being, and leaves not immortality unextinguished on 
 the throne of the universe. 
 
 These appalling results of engulfing the subjective 
 in the objective, or the objective in the subjective, 
 utter the most solemn warning to philosophizing 
 mind against this guilty departure from first prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 The only remaining class of truth which we 'shall 
 delay here to distinguish, is that which is moral. 
 
TKUTH. 
 
 135 
 
 The name distinguishes the qualities of right and 
 wrong in the conduct of agents. As the distinction 
 between these never originated in will^ it never be- 
 gan to be, and can never cease to be, and can never 
 be other than it is. Were it created, it was once 
 out of the universe, and then the infinite Deity had 
 no moral character, and must still be without one, 
 as what he creates can never belong to his nature. 
 What was made is distinguished by being that 
 which is; that which always was, by being that 
 which must be. What is moral, then, is in the 
 highest class of necessary truth. Now, as the 
 moral principle imposes obligations exactly com- 
 mensurate to the relations of the parties, the dim- 
 ness of that light in which duty often appears is 
 owing to the partial concealment of relations. And 
 thus scope is given to faith, that grand instrument 
 of human recovery. 
 
 We next advert briefly to some of the general 
 principles which should direct our researches. These 
 are indicated by the mode God has adopted to make 
 himself known to us, and by the laws of our own 
 mental structure. The assumption is a great truth, 
 that all which God has done and said has for its 
 permanent object his self-manifestation. This being 
 so, he would do his works, and utter his Word, pre- 
 cisely in that manner in which we could best un- 
 derstand him in them. Thus, his first work would 
 be a display of power, that being more simple and 
 
 easy of apprehension than his other perfections. 
 
 12 
 
136 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 He would next exhibit skill or wisdom, as, in sim- 
 plicity, that stands next to power. At a higher 
 stage he would manifest goodness, that being, in its 
 nature, still more complex. Why would God adopt 
 this order? Because this is the law by which cre- 
 ated mind acquaints itself with him — the law by 
 which it must investigate all truth. Confirmatory 
 of this principle we shall find the answer to the 
 question of fact. Has he adopted this method? The 
 affirmative answer is indubitably given by geology. 
 The creation arose first as an example of his un- 
 matched might. Then was displayed his wisdom in 
 the collocations of all organized nature. Afterward 
 the streams of his goodness flowed out in the be- 
 nignant ends of his contrivances. This very order 
 of self-manifestation is equally marked in Provi- 
 dence. The earlier revelations of God to the race 
 most prominently illustrated his almightiness. Proof 
 of this is found in the very character of the miracles 
 of the Old Testament. But, in ihh stupendous won- 
 ders of the New Testament, beamed out the splen- 
 dors of goodness. Scarcely a miracle of Christ which 
 was not eloquently expressive of this perfection. The 
 most stern of these were more radiant with love than 
 awful with power. This, then, is the order in which 
 God has revealed himself, both in his works and 
 Word. And the fact that he has chosen this order 
 is an index to the mode in which our mind best in- 
 vestigates truth. The Creator's works and Word 
 have their elemental alphabet, no less than the Ian- 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 137 
 
 guage of man. With these elemental truths every 
 successful student must commence his upward ca- 
 reer. He can not attempt to ascend per solium 
 without disaster. He must do it by a series of suc- 
 cessive advances. He must go from the simple to 
 the complex — from the minute to the vast — from 
 unity to plurality — from the temporal to the eternal. 
 
 Nor is this lesson less forcibly inculcated by our 
 own mental structure. This structure clearly indi- 
 cates the appointed mode of our acquiring knowl- 
 edge. Self-introspection supersedes any other evi- 
 dence that the changeless laws of nature render us, 
 in all departments of research, philosophic beings. 
 Such is our nature, that, by supposing every truth 
 demonstrable, we destroy the possibility of demon- 
 strating any truth. We must be constituted to con- 
 ceive the truth of some propositions without proof, 
 or be compelled to leave all propositions without 
 proof. Hence, man's constitution is stored with 
 ultimate truths — truths which admit of no self- 
 explanation, but which repose on truths beyond 
 themselves. Mind can not act consecutively with- 
 out them. It finds itself presupposing them in 
 every inquiry; and attention to itself makes them, 
 like new creations, spring into light.- Not so with 
 the principles of generalization, which are volun- 
 tarily elaborated. As 'Hhe objects of nature never 
 present themselves drawn up in rank and file, but 
 await man's classification," so does the mind itself 
 evolve the laws on which all classifications are to 
 
138 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 proceed. But, though these laws do not, like ulti- 
 mate truths, make a part of our constitution, it is 
 entirely within our capacity to evolve them. Now, 
 it is demanded, how else can the mind extend its 
 dominion but by classifying ? And how can it clas- 
 sify but by arranging particulars under general piin- 
 ciples? And how can it so group particulars with- 
 out previously considering them? Thus, no vision 
 can be plainer than that the mind is so constituted 
 as to begin with the simple and advance to the 
 complex. It can not be otherwise than that all 
 created mind masters truth by a series of successive 
 degrees. Could it grasp at once all truth, it would 
 be infinite. Could it begin with the maximum of 
 its knowledge, its condition would be eternally sta- 
 tionary, and it is not in mind to endure so frightful 
 a monotony through unwasting ages. This would 
 make the depths of undying being the regions of 
 inefiable solitude. No; it can not be! The voice of 
 our developing powers, like the trumpet of eternity, 
 will ever call, Onward! onward!” 
 
 The mental structure, then, leads us from the 
 single to the complex — from the individual to the 
 class — from the abstract to the concrete. By these 
 views are suggested the haemony of teuth. Such 
 is the nature of all truth that of necessity it is a 
 unit. Evidence of this flashes on us, whether we 
 consider truth in its infinite source, in the mutual 
 relations of its parts, or in its legitimate workings 
 on created mind. The principle of mutual rela- 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 139 
 
 tion which, at some points, binds together the vast 
 variety of all truths, is fundamental to the unity 
 of universal truth. Science is the relation of ideas 
 to facts. Philosophy is the science of the connect- 
 ing principles of nature. Without the unity of 
 truth these connections would be abruptly termin- 
 ated. Impassable chasms would divide them, and 
 no mind could bridge those devouring gulfs. But 
 finding all things within our compass indissolubly 
 banded together, we look up the scale of creation, 
 and are struck with this special order, namely, that 
 each higher being is subserved by all beings below 
 it in exactly that proportion in which it is more 
 nearly related to the great end of the Author of all. 
 Now, as every exhibition of truth in the universe 
 has the self-manifestation of Jehovah for its aim, 
 this connection of all its parts presupposes its unity 
 in its source, and the identity of its nature. In- 
 deed, the unity of all truth, when traced to its 
 great fountain, will be found in the infinite perfec- 
 tions. For if all beings sprang from God like light 
 from its dispenser, how can any of their relations 
 be out of harmony with him? How can any of 
 them clash with each other? How can they avoid 
 uniting in their common principle, which must be 
 seated in his perfections ? Must not the fearful 
 strife of eternal opposites take place in those per- 
 fections before the truths based on them can ever 
 clash? The unity of those perfections must trans- 
 mit itself to all that emanates from them. That 
 
140 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 rainbow variety which beautifies all classes of truth 
 can no more originate conflict between them than 
 can the variety of persons in the Godhead kindle 
 in the infinite perfections eternal war. 
 
 All developed truth is contained in existing rela- 
 tions. One class of these relations lies between 
 man and his Maker ; another, between man and 
 his fellows; a third, between man and the material 
 creation; a fourth, between the different portions 
 of that creation. The first class of these relations 
 pervades the entire field of systematic theology; 
 the scope of the second is the profound science of 
 morals; the last two extend over the vast province 
 of physics. 
 
 It falls not within our design to graduate these 
 on the scale of importance; they must be dismissed 
 by a single word on each. 
 
 The truths involved in the first are a stream of 
 morning light, kindling into a glow man's far-off 
 future, exhibiting the sanctions of eternal law as 
 commensurate with the deathless nature and ever- 
 expanding powers of the subjects of the law. 
 
 Moral science evolves and classifies those immu- 
 table principles which rest on the perfections of 
 God, and comprehend all the rights of man, so that 
 their voice is the world's harmony. Physics, sweep- 
 ing over the unmeasured domains of matter, takes 
 in all our relations to organized and unorganized 
 nature, and all those connections which link together 
 every particle of all worlds. Truth, in all these de- 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 141 
 
 partments, occupies a place in the universal system 
 of truth. Each relates to God, each to man, and 
 all to both. 
 
 II. We hasten to advert briefly to some of the 
 QUALIFICATIONS indispensable to the successful in- 
 vestigation of truth. At the very head of this list 
 we place the love of truth. Between unperverted 
 mind and all truth within its range there is an 
 original and an eternal congeniality; and even in 
 perverted mind there is a consciousness of the want 
 of something which men hope for only in truth. 
 This is so even when their profoundest currents 
 of thought run in the low grounds of sense and 
 passion. Such is mind, that through all its depths 
 it will make known to itself this want as the most 
 pressing it ever feels. Nor is it in the power of 
 volition to calm this rage till the mind invests 
 itself with that patience, calmness, singleness, and 
 force requisite to investigate truth. When this is 
 done, truth is sought as a legacy divinely bequeathed 
 to the humblest mind. It is deemed the fairest off- 
 spring of the Parent Supreme. Communion with it 
 is sought as with an early companion, endeared by 
 the joys and sorrows of departed years. Then is 
 the truth felt with force, which was uttered by its 
 noble Grecian martyr, ^^That the gods have given 
 nothing valuable to man without labor;” that no 
 telegraphic or railroad mode of movement has ever 
 been opened to any branch of knowledge; that much 
 
142 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 less will the laws of mind admit that the soul should 
 be whirled with winged speed to the attainment of 
 all truth. 
 
 Let the original discoverer be well heeded. Where 
 did one ever arise whose master passion was not the 
 love of truth ? Every mind of this small class, which 
 has in all time glowed in the firmament of science, 
 has resigned itself to the sway of this all-controlling 
 principle. It has been bound to the interests of 
 truth by the bands of an iron purpose. Decision 
 has flashed on all its counsels, and indomitable per- 
 severance has been the central object amid all the 
 virtues of its character. During its intensest gaze 
 on all ethereal things, truth alone has peopled the 
 field of its vision. The voice of truth only came 
 on its ear with enchanting sweetness. The mys- 
 terious workings of this principle, when deeply 
 seated within, have awakened the admiration of 
 more than a single age — have made men heroes, 
 martyrs, every thing to which supreme energy 
 could raise them. 
 
 This eagerness to know the truth has its fittest 
 emblem in the gnawings of hunger — in unquench- 
 able thirst. It foregoes many a delight of social 
 hours — many a draught from the cup of domestic 
 pleasure. It looks keenly into the deep and dis- 
 tant through the dim light of the midnight lamp. 
 This propelling love of truth is ineffably dissimilar 
 to the cravings of ambition. He seeks knowledge, 
 not because the attainment will yield him influence, 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 143 
 
 or bring him wealth, or procure him fame — not be- 
 cause it will give him a position in society while 
 he lives, or a monument among the departed great 
 when he dies — but because he loves it in its essential 
 elements — because it is congenial with the deepest 
 powers of his being — because it sheds a guiding 
 light on his footsteps in his upward way to its 
 own everlasting fountain. Truth disdains all com- 
 munion with a mercenary spirit; never will its 
 depths disclose their unborn beauty to him who 
 explores them from the feeble motive of mere 
 utility. 
 
 The genuine thinker can never conceive how 
 men can wish to know truth by proxy. The very 
 thought of being released from personal investiga- 
 tion comes on his powers with the coldness of death. 
 No sooner could he consent to exchange evidence for 
 authority, than he could feel himself released from 
 obligations to the God that made him. 
 
 No matter how gorgeous the scientific drapery 
 which might clothe the human oracle, he would 
 turn his ear with pity and indignity from all its 
 responses. This he would do, not because history 
 warns him of the degradation which would other- 
 wise ensue — not because the bloody records of the 
 Waldenses, the Lollards, and the Huguenots read 
 him a lesson at which all ages will tremble — but 
 because truth is dear to his heart — because it 
 exalts his imperishable nature — because it binds 
 
 him to his Maker's throne. 
 
 18 
 
144 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 2. In further indicating these qualifications j we 
 remark that intellectual wealth should be acquired. 
 A well-stored mind has special facilities to enlarge 
 its empire. The question for solution, then, is. How 
 shall this affluence of thought be reached? Not 
 certainly by filling the mental chambers with 
 isolated facts. These may encumber the mental 
 researches, but can never greatly extend them. 
 For this enlarging purpose single truths and facts 
 must be arranged' into systems. 
 
 Take an illustrating example from history. He 
 who would treasure up its wealth must never re- 
 gard it as a mere circling of unprogressive changes, 
 nor yet as a vast progress of crystallization by ex- 
 ternal accretion. Such a progress is without vital 
 organization, without rational significancy, without 
 a moral end. Such u progress is restricted to un- 
 organized nature, and never belonged to the stream 
 of social events. He must regard each event as a 
 part of the entire train. He must fix a piercing 
 eye on that combining principle which, like a silver 
 thread, runs through the manifold phenomena of 
 social man. We know there is a connecting prin- 
 ciple which preserves individual identity by binding 
 together one’s physical and mental changes from his 
 cradle to his grave. Such is this social principle, 
 which, like a stream of light, runs through the 
 events of a nation’s existence and of a world’s his- 
 tory. It is an adequate conception alone of this 
 highest unity that can give intense light and 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 145 
 
 thrilling power to the records of our race. Exclude 
 this law of combining events, and we are cut off 
 from the past, and the lesson inculcated by all that 
 God and man have done is blotted out forever. But 
 let events be arranged under this principle, and we 
 shall commune with a spirit which will trace it not 
 through one period, but through all periods. The 
 student, resigning his powers to such a guide, will 
 find them not circling around on a dead level, but 
 in an ascending spiral movement — in an ever-rising 
 position. But these indications of the mode of ac- 
 quiring historical knowledge have points of applica- 
 bility to all other branches of knowledge. Though 
 our limits preclude the attempt to show how mental 
 wealth is promoted by applying the principle of 
 classification to every branch of knowledge, the 
 single illustration we have furnished will readily 
 suggest the mode. Never, in any other mode, 
 through the whole history of - the individual, can 
 sufficient knowledge be acquired for the purpose of 
 an enlarged investigation of truth. But by this 
 kind of research thought acquires an extent of 
 empire, during this brief life, which, by being 
 conversant with separate facts, it might fail to do 
 in a hundred ages. 
 
 Our next remark turns on the requisite mental 
 DISCIPLINE. So palpable is the demand for this, 
 that additional evidence is superseded. No artist 
 ever deemed himself skillful till he could command 
 the ready use of his tools. The inquirer after truth 
 
146 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 must add to his earnestness this skill. The power 
 of patient, fixed, and protracted attention must 
 be his. In all elementary pursuits the discipline 
 rather than the wealth of the mind should be 
 sought; and it is interesting to know that the right 
 mode of seeking the latter is the most successful 
 method of aspiring at the former. The same kind 
 of exercise which best replenishes the mind with 
 thought, most improves the thinking powers. This 
 mental vigor arises, not from the amount of knowl- 
 edge acquired, but from the strenuous eflbrts and 
 vigorous discipline of the powers in making the ac- 
 quirement. The highest use of these can be attained 
 only by this habitual use of them. Deep, undi- 
 verted, and protracted attention is a sine qua non 
 to a highly-disciplined mental state. A languid, 
 intermitted attention is unavoidably fatal to all 
 mental elevation. It must, in no degree, be toler- 
 ated, but banished at once and forever, on the peril 
 of its becoming a ruinous habit. It was to this all- 
 controlling power of attention that Newton ascribed 
 his highest attainments in science. Without this 
 the mental tone is fearfully injured, and the inward 
 vigor irreparably impaired. With it conception be- 
 comes vivid, suggestion fruitful, and combination of 
 an ever-growing compass. It is amazing to observe 
 how mind thus trained will pierce the arcana of 
 truth — how it will seize on the general in the par- 
 ticular ^ and be introduced to causes by investigating 
 their effects. In what other state can the mind lay 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 147 
 
 hold of the essential in the accidental, so as to find 
 the inward symbolized by the outward? In many 
 a walk of thought the essence of things remains too 
 subtile to be pierced by probationary mind; but 
 such thinkers the phenomena point to that in the 
 substance which startles and thrills them. They see 
 behind all action a vital principle — under all phe- 
 nomena a viewless substance. How this disciplined 
 state relates its subjects to the men of their genera- 
 tion can be inconceivable by none. It makes them 
 the prophets of their nation — the interpreters of the 
 voices of the experience of all the historical past. 
 All departed events are laid under contribution to 
 their useful agency. They think, not with the mul- 
 titude, but for the multitude. Such patient, assidu- 
 ous explorers in the field of truth have not in vain 
 delved hard for the costliest gems. Long since have 
 they renounced that fatal delusion that the ease of 
 acquisition is the test of its value, and that the 
 darkness of a moral problem is a sufiicient reason to 
 refrain from investigating its principles. Much 
 more will they never be guilty of such treason 
 against the laws of intellect as to sneer at such 
 problems. Their darkness will not be referred to 
 their confusion, but to the want of scope and depth 
 in the inquirer s powers. This requisite discipline 
 inculcates, as by the tongue of a trumpet, that pro- 
 found science and revealed religion can never be 
 divested of their inherent grandeur — that their im- 
 perative demand is to be left covered with what was 
 
148 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 always venerable and awful in their depths. If 
 never-tiring efforts, made by undivided powers, fail 
 to scrutinize the laws of causes^ what marvel that 
 fitful intellects should stumble at those everlasting 
 principles ? 
 
 This disciplined state of intellect is likewise essen- 
 tial to grapple with abstruse principles, as it, only, 
 qualifies the mind to greet light from whatever 
 fount it may emanate, and to convey on a given 
 point every straying beam. It tolerates the idio- 
 syncrasies of each laborer in the common field of 
 investigation. It will accord to others the same 
 noble independence which it claims for itself. 
 
 Minds under an opposite control graduate their 
 respect for truth by the age, or land, or nation, or 
 other circumstances of its origin. It is important as 
 it came from Greece or Kome — from the time of 
 Demosthenes, or Cicero, or Augustine, or Luther; 
 as it was of either of the four schools of Greece — 
 from that of Alexandria — from Oriental or Occidental 
 mind — ancient or modern — from the Old or New 
 World. But adequate discipline allows no truth to 
 take its hues from any of these mere, circumstances. 
 It is admitted to confidence, not according to -the 
 channel through which it may have flowed, but in 
 proportion to the evidence by which it is sustained. 
 What possible difference can exist in the worth of 
 truth, whether it was evolved from the depths of 
 Eastern or Western mind? — whether it had birth 
 in the Augustan age, or in the tenth century, which 
 
TEUTH. 
 
 149 
 
 was the midnight hour of Christian history? — or at 
 the zenith of the nineteenth century, this focal point 
 of all converging lights of the past? 
 
 The discipline we have indicated bears favorably 
 on the acquiring of truth at another point : it pre- 
 vents the slightest suspicion that one truth, or sci- 
 ence, can ever be in conflict with another. Much 
 more does it vanquish the thought that any scien- 
 tific truth can be out of harmony with any fact or 
 principle of which Kevelation is the record. Mind, 
 in this state conversant with abstract principle, 
 dwells much on the true, the beautiful, the essen- 
 tial, the eternal. It finds such principle underlying 
 all progressive thought, and, carrying them cour- 
 ageously out to all their legitimate results, it finds 
 points of union between all the segments of the great 
 circle of universal truth. 
 
 We remark again, on this branch of our theme, 
 that an acquaintance with the laws of mind is in- 
 dispensable to the investigation of all other laws. 
 It is apparent, even without argument, that the 
 whole objective universe could furnish not a shadow 
 of interest were it disconnected with the suhjectivej 
 the mind. The science of mind is the science of 
 one's inward self. Here the material on which he 
 operates, the instrument by which he works, and 
 the agent operating, are not various, but the same. 
 
 It is that by which all thinking, all feeling, all 
 doing are accomplished. The science, then, of this 
 comparing, investigating, and determining substance, 
 
150 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 is the center of all sciences — the key of all access- 
 ible secrets. The limits of our mental powers are, 
 therefore, the only limits within which all sciences 
 are comprehended, and beyond which no human 
 science can have being. 
 
 The goal of science is not, however, the limit of 
 truth. We know not that the ocean of truth has 
 limits, whose waves of light lave the foot of the ever- 
 lasting throne. If it have, they can be ascertained 
 only by powers of vastly-broader compass than ours, 
 and in a period of immeasurably-larger extent. 
 
 One striking relation which an acquaintance with 
 the laws of mind bears to our investigation of truth, 
 is found in the protection it affords against both 
 timidity and rashness; against despair of achieving 
 that to which we are fully adequate; and against 
 the waste of our powers by attempting what is im- 
 possible. And to utter in one word all we mean, 
 we allege that without some science of mind there 
 is not, in the whole universe, any science for man. 
 
 III. We now hasten to remark, finally, that such 
 qualifications arc demanded by our times. This 
 appears by the severity of the test by which the evi- 
 dences of religion are now tried. This applies to 
 external proofs, which are found both in the mira- 
 cles of prescience and of power — in the supernatural 
 deeds and prophetic declarations of God. Pagan 
 and Papal miracles have been adduced, in the most 
 imposing array, to rival these from heaven. The 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 151 
 
 deepest antiquity must be explored to let in a scath- 
 ing light on these tissues of imposture, and to reveal 
 Jehovah’s hand in the authenticating miracles of 
 Eevelation, and his mind in those prophecies which 
 sweep over the great events of human history. It 
 applies to collateral evidences, which may be made 
 to gather strength from every new element detected 
 in the great events of history, and from every late 
 development in the revealings of science, and from 
 the coins, medals, and marbles of antiquity; to in- 
 ternal evidenceSj whose strength is found in that 
 exquisite adaptation of all the Divine doctrines and 
 precepts to the wants and woes of every generation 
 of the race. 
 
 Who sees not the extent of intelligence requisite 
 to settle even the preliminary question. Does the 
 human stole demand a revelation from Heaven ? 
 The answer lies in the facts of man’s moral history ; 
 and these facts being found in the secrets of his 
 nature, and in the records of his race, they must be 
 scrutinized by the most piercing glances, and clas- 
 sified by the most rigid analysis. 
 
 Can less be affirmed of the genuineness or of the 
 authenticity of God’s Oracles, but especially of those 
 far-reaching questions, their credibility and inspira- 
 tion? For here must be elaborated those profound 
 reasonings which show that the supernatural char- 
 acter of the truth revealed, and of Him who taught 
 it, claimed a character equally supernatural for the 
 facts that authenticate it. 
 
152 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 But what idea can be given of the vastness of 
 these topics by this simple enumeration of them? 
 Each topic numbers many subordinate ones, and 
 every one of these has far-reaching ramifications. 
 Who was ever conversant with Warburton, Light- 
 foot, Butler, Watson, Lardner, or a hundredth part 
 of similar authors, without absolutely bowing to the 
 conviction that the proof of religion has no com- 
 petitor in its claims on disciplined mind — that it is 
 supreme in its demands on intense thought, patient 
 research, and profound learning? 
 
 Nor is the requisition from another quarter much 
 less imperious for such qualifications. I allude to 
 the learned attacks to which Eevelation is now es- 
 pecially exposed. Scarcely has science won a new 
 trophy in the enlarging field it occupies which pro- 
 fane ingenuity has not converted into a deadly 
 weapon against religion. It was thus with as- 
 tronomy. Men measured the heavens and num- 
 bered its stars, to marshal them against His agency 
 whose eternal breath kindled their fires. It was 
 so with geology. When that science, so long un- 
 classified and so little known, first broke the silence 
 of a thousand ages, and revealed the secrets of de- 
 parted worlds, it was made to proclaim the eternity 
 of our globe, and erect a material throne which 
 should rival the throne of Jehovah. Christian mind 
 must master these sciences, and wrest them from 
 the usurper’s grasp. But if this should be done to 
 prevent the false application of true science, must 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 153 
 
 less be achieved to preclude the ruinous application 
 of false science? 
 
 This, too, has acted a prominent part to accom- 
 plish the extinction of revealed truth. As an illus- 
 trative instance, we advert to the ancient idealism 
 of the Oriental world. This has found acceptance 
 in Western mind, and, being decked with the brill- 
 iant robe of German nomenclature, it now claims 
 to be a profound discovery — one which lay be- 
 yond the compass of all minds, excepting the master 
 spirits of the race. This strange philosophy, which 
 makes all without us merely the reflection of our 
 own mind within — which merges God and his whole 
 universe into the fancy of the percipient — this phi- 
 losophy can find an equal in absurdity only in the 
 plausible scheme of utter materialism. This can 
 perceive nothing in spirit which is not in matter; 
 nothing in mind, which measures the heavens, that 
 mere organization would not give to the clod on 
 which you tread; nothing in the Newtons, and 
 Bacons, and Lockes of our race, which favoring 
 circumstances would not impart to an oyster in 
 the sand. This dispensing with all agency above 
 matter sees no demand for the Almighty’s breath 
 to light up the quenchless fires of the soul. A 
 mere lump of matter is sufficient for this, though 
 intrinsically dead as that which it is to kindle 
 into life. 
 
 We advert to but one more demand made by 
 religion on cultivated mzellect, Eeligion demands 
 
154 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 of that agency to guard it against self- corruption — 
 against and formalism into which it has 
 ever tended to degenerate. These two great coun- 
 terfeits have their synabols in the golden calf at 
 Horeb, and in the strange fire offered by the 
 usurpers arrayed against Moses in the wilder- 
 ness. The lapse of three thousand years has not 
 changed this downward tendency. Never since has 
 one of these failed to occupy the place vacated by 
 piety. 
 
 The corelation of fanaticism and formalism is that 
 of parent and offspring. The over-tasked sensibili- 
 ties, kindled into a livid flame by fanaticism, soon 
 sink down exhausted into the cold embrace of form- 
 alism. One of these grand corruptions of spiritual 
 worship has embodied itself in Paganism, and the 
 other in the Papacy, But what Church of any age 
 has been totally unblighted by these offsprings of 
 our alienated nature? They have clung to per- 
 verted mind like the attributes of its own nature. 
 Happy for the most cloudless realms of evangelism 
 if against these intruders they had an abiding in- 
 demnity! But through all time this chilling cold 
 or scorching flame has menaced our moral nature. 
 
 Now, who knows not that in a large intelli- 
 gence these two counterfeits find not one conge- 
 nial element; that such intelligence, giving health, 
 depth, and vigor to pious susceptibilities, secures 
 the affections against the blight of this spurious 
 Christianity ? 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 155 
 
 Finding enough in the supreme motives of the 
 Gospel to meet the soul’s cravings, both for action 
 and repose, it supplies from that source the suscep- 
 tibilities for the beautiful, and the sublime, and the 
 heroic. It adopts that great regulator of mind — 
 the principle of preoccupation and substitution. It 
 skillfully administers to the social mind these pure 
 elements of revealed and enrapturing truth which 
 preclude diseased cravings for the spurious. It 
 allures to Scriptural themes and Scriptural enter- 
 prises which furnish ample scope for the most glov/- 
 ing energies. 
 
 We allege this depth of knowledge to be the de- 
 mand of our times. Our epoch is one of advancing 
 humanity. The proof is in the onward movement 
 of the arts; in the rapid development of the sci- 
 ences ; in the higher civilization of the race. Now 
 the nobler powers within are elicited in the many^ 
 in the masses^ not in the solitary few, slowly rising 
 at long and gloomy intervals. Periods there have 
 been, it is true, along the track of generations 
 which have appeared and vanished, which have 
 been kindled into a glow by gifted individuals; but 
 where does man’s history record this of the majority 
 of a single nation on the footstool ? 
 
 Great schools have, through successive centuries, 
 honored many realms. Something like the Athens 
 of Greece, the Pome of Italy, the Alexandria of 
 Africa, has kindled great lights through distant 
 periods. But how can these- sparsely-scattered 
 
156 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 minds from those great centers of kindled intellect 
 be a test of the advanced state of the race ? How 
 can there be found in them a criterion for determ- 
 ining the stage attained by the masses of men? 
 The depth of general gloom contributed to the 
 intensity and expansion of their luster, but it was 
 never banished by their agency. It is the extent 
 to which the majority are vivified, by the living 
 streams of knowledge, which tests the facilities for 
 extending the dominion of truth. We submit to all 
 ' men whether any thing short of this general intel- 
 ligence can give scope to the utmost energies of dis- 
 ciplined intellect ? 
 
 Indeed, such a state alone can create a demand 
 for strong thinkers. This is the very condition in 
 which men explore unwonted territories of thought; 
 in which there will be new conception; new com- 
 binations of facts; new applications of principles, 
 and newly-arranged systems of error. 
 
 Now, who knows not that our degeneracy is such 
 that perverting forces will corrupt society in pro- 
 portion to its susceptibility of elevation ? This will 
 ever be the fearful realization in the absence of 
 strong counteracting agency. 
 
 Here, then, we reach our overwhelming conclu- 
 sion; namely, that it is impossible for educated 
 mind to avoid a responsibility enhanced by the 
 quickened energies of our wondrous century. Our 
 age has collected the splendid fragments of thoughts 
 which departed ages bequeathed to posterity. To 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 157 
 
 these it has added the richer materials of its own 
 production. 
 
 In the midst of this mental opulence, how ter- 
 rible will be the shock of opposing forces ! How 
 fierce will be the combat of truth with error ! How 
 much higher ground will be occupied by the latter 
 in wielding its unwonted weapons ! What fury will 
 be in that death-struggle! Advocates of truth, of 
 humanity, of God, plunge into the unforbidden se- 
 crets of the universe; arm yourselves with the 
 power of far-reaching principles; resolve deep truths 
 into others more general and profound; combine 
 the perfect laws of moral government, and resolve 
 the high problems of God’s administration by the 
 blended lights of both worlds. 
 
 THE PRESENTATION OF THE DIPLOMAS. 
 
 Beloved Pupils, — We trust your reception of 
 these testimonials is no less expressive of your noble 
 purpose for the future, than the presentation of them 
 is of our approval of the past. While they testify 
 to the honorable manner in which you have acted 
 your part while with us, let them be an incentive 
 to not less noble achievement after you have parted 
 from us. Your protracted struggle in grappling 
 with the great principles of truth which you have 
 mastered, we deem a pledge of still loftier efforts 
 which your future history shall record. 
 
158 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 A perennial fountain of quickening influence will 
 be found in the assurance that every successive 
 attainment is also a preparatory attainment — that 
 every advanced step is a facility to one still higher, 
 and that the nature of mind admits of no limit to 
 your progress beyond which advance is impossible. 
 That imaginary limit to mental expansion which 
 apathy and timidity have made a wall of adamant, 
 will demand only your perseverance to become 
 yielding as the ambient air. With the grandeur of 
 the scholar’s mission in your eye, you will read 
 excelsior on every intellectual hight along your 
 whole career. There, perseverance has written that 
 quickening word in characters of living light. 
 
 But let it never escape you, that all the intellect- 
 ual wealth and discipline to which you can ever 
 aspire, are to be sought, not for their own sake, but 
 for an object far transcending themselves. 
 
 It was not to amass wealth, to acquire fame, to 
 excel in the skill of the advocate, or in the healing 
 art of the physician — at an object far surpassing 
 those your culture aimed. It was to take part in 
 the great Eedeemer’s restoring enterprise. It was 
 to vanquish that desolating agency of sin which is 
 blighting man’s hopes for both worlds. It was to 
 disin thrall immortal millions on earth, and allure 
 them to mansions of light which Christ is fitting up 
 in heaven. With what an unearthly spirit, then, 
 should the functions of this highest ojffice intrusted 
 to man be discharged ! 
 
TEUTH. 
 
 159 
 
 It can not but flash upon us with revealing light, 
 that self-sacrifice should be the spirit — that it is 
 vital to your ofiice to live, not for yourselves, but 
 for others — not for man's applause, but for their 
 souls — not for the emolument of earth, but for the 
 approval of Heaven — not for the gilded toys of time, 
 but for the changeless scenes of eternity. 
 
 Go, then, beloved pupils, as you depart from the^e 
 halls of sacred lore—go with a purpose firm as the 
 center of the globe, to cultivate whatever is gentle- 
 manly, noble, or Christian, which you may have here 
 imbibed ! Go with a purpose to strengthen what 
 remains weak — to mature what is still germinant! 
 And amid the wildest revulsions of public faith, let 
 your convictions never be shaken of the kindredship 
 of intellectual and moral improvement. Never sun- 
 der these which God has joined together. Ever 
 recognize the fraternal ties by which science, litera- 
 ture, and religion are inseparable. Never, then, 
 divorce the highest culture of the mind from the 
 deepest piety of the heart. No more suppose that 
 the intellectual and moral powers can be separated 
 in ourselves than in the Almighty which made us. 
 
 But we have now reached a point where our ways 
 divide. The high and endearing relations of pupil 
 and teacher have attained a crisis, and must now 
 dissolve. But though that period, which has been 
 one of trembling anxiety, has forever fled, the 
 thrilling remembrances which it shall throw for- 
 ward into the future shall never perish. The so- 
 
160 
 
 LECTUEKS AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 licitude of your teachers, like an attribute of your 
 nature, will abide with you. 
 
 They will exult in the apostolic zeal of your min- 
 istry — in the noble daring of your Christian enter- 
 prise. And when any of you shall stand up alone, 
 on a dark and distant shore, surrounded only by 
 those desolate objects which first greet the mission- 
 ary, then will your companions and assistants in 
 study seem to cheer your solitude by those utter- 
 ances to which you have so often listened in these 
 sacred halls. 
 
 And let us not be unmindful of the fact that this 
 earthly farewell, now trembling on our lips, is little 
 more than its own echo, which shall be our speedy 
 greeting, when our ministerial achievements and 
 earthly pilgrimage shall be accomplished. 
 
 With these quickening anticipations, we bid you 
 an affectionate and final farewell. 
 
V. 
 
 ON THE AUTHORITY OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING CLASS OP THE 
 GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE, I860. 
 
 Young Gentlemen, — There is a sense in which 
 the present hour shall stand alone in the history of 
 your being. To this period every hour of your in- 
 stitution life has looked forward, through the prepa- 
 ration which has been the medium of approaching 
 it. To it all the future of your present life will 
 look back as to a fixed starting point. The present 
 hour, therefore, in its retrospects and prospects, 
 must even be peculiar. On one side of it lies that 
 silent, anxious, toilful course in which half a score 
 of branches were to be mastered; on the other, 
 that various, stirring, eventful, itinerant field, 
 whose stars are to be kindled to glitter in a 
 fadeless crown. 
 
 Here you have studied books, and communed 
 through them with the great minds of departed 
 thinkers; there you will study men to find the 
 avenues lying open to their convictions. Here you 
 have mastered the laws of thought; there you will 
 
 learn all those perverting tendencies which so in- 
 
 161 
 
162 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 fiuence thought as to make life a failure. Here 
 the great redemption occupied you as a beautiful 
 theory, as a stupendous expedient, as mounting 
 even above the awful hights of justice; there you 
 will learn the obstacles to its application, and the 
 only agency by which they are surmountable. No 
 lesson learned on the most luminous page — no direc- 
 tion given by^ the wisest counselor — can supply that 
 knowledge acquired by actual contact and intimate 
 social intercourse. Still may you profit in this 
 practical field by the wise suggestions of your 
 authors and teachers. Instead of repeating or ex- 
 tending them here, however, I hope you will permit 
 me to close the period which has measured our 
 mutual and affectionate relations by a brief dis- 
 cussion of some of the peculiarities of the age. 
 
 Though the occasion might be fitly improved, as 
 I have just observed, in imparting counsel on prac- 
 tical questions, it may be more profitably appro- 
 priated by discussing profounder topics. The age, 
 you know, which has just departed has been one 
 of strong mental action. The German mind espe- 
 cially has been profoundly moved, and claims to 
 have ascended to the highest generalization that 
 can be the boast of science; but so morbidly sub- 
 jective has it been as almost to ignore the external 
 sphere of thought. That this mental habit has be- 
 come a moral disease is evinced by the mischief it 
 has wrought in the sphere of theology. Since Schel- 
 ling startled all Europe by his bold theory, it has 
 
AUTHOEITY OF THE SUPEENATUEAL. 163 
 
 been entitled New Philosophy,'' and, with not 
 less fitness, Natural Mysticism," as it places the 
 highest spiritual truths within the intuitive grasp 
 of reason. Did not this utterly supersede God’s 
 Revelation, I should not now invite you to investi- 
 gate it. You are doubtless unaware of the extent 
 to which it now affects the Churches, and will ob- 
 struct your own ministry. Though it sweeps over 
 no entire Christian community, yet a majority of the 
 Churches have representative minds which powerfully 
 vindicate it. Ever since the ethereal Coleridge im- 
 ported it to the British isles, its virus has operated 
 on clerical speculators. A large class of the National 
 Establishment, called ^Ghe Broad Church,” make 
 this philosophy its underlying principle. Among 
 its prominent leaders are Arnold, Hare, Conybeare, 
 Jowett, and Powell, who should be named, as their 
 productions are acting on American mind. ^^The 
 Free Church of Scotland” is not unsmitten with 
 the same withering blight. The Churches of the 
 New World are beginning to taste the same fatal 
 cup. Dr. Hecock and his admirers are not alone 
 in bowing to the fundamental principle of the ^Gew 
 philosophy.” It is true that its advocates are ex- 
 ceedingly various in the extent to which they in- 
 dorse it. While some are but slightly tinged by 
 its dark hues, over others it has gained a complete 
 mastery. By these it is grasped as a harmonious 
 whole; by those, in only some of its disrupted ele- 
 ments. A consecutive mind can never tolerate this 
 
164 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 disseverance of parts; as for the same reason it em- 
 braces any, it embraces all: and for the same reason 
 it rejects the whole, it rejects every part. 
 
 It is vital to your clear conception of this theory 
 that you become familiar with its watchwords. 
 Among these are the following; namely, spiritual 
 faith, spiritual sense, spiritual insight, the practical 
 reason, the intuitional capacity, mental dynamics, 
 and self-evolution. These phrases are so employed 
 as to make faith — the mind’s organ — perceptive 
 of absolute truths irrespective of the least evidence 
 out of this organ itself. One fatal conclusion is, 
 this intuitive knowledge shuts out all other evi- 
 dence from the objects it apprehends. It verbally 
 concedes the inspiration of the Scriptures — not of 
 their words, but of their ideas — not of the letter, 
 but of the spirit; so that the ineffable doctrines of 
 the Bible must be grasped, not through the lanes 
 of interpretation, but by direct intuition. This 
 spirit eye” sees in the Pentateuch and Gospels 
 a splendid allegory; in Christ, the archetypal idea 
 which was purified in Adam ; it sees in Adam not a 
 man, but ^^man.” This was the generic sinfulness — 
 the sin of each of the species. This transmutes the 
 Spirit’s saving work into an inward law, consisting 
 in the activities of the reason; this makes Chris- 
 tianity not a doctrine, but a life; it makes the 
 miracles of the Bible not a support, but its incum- 
 brance. The gigantic work of intuitive reason is 
 to grasp universal truth, irrespective of every law 
 
AUTHORITY OR THE SUPERNATURAL. 
 
 165 
 
 of the understanding. Thus is confounded the 
 knowledge of first principles with that which is 
 logical, historical, and testimonial. Hence that new 
 distinction— of which the apostles never dreamed — 
 between the natural and spiritual mind: the former 
 being the understanding ; the latter, the reason. 
 This reason is the subjective revelation shutting out 
 forever all objective revelation, as it intuitively per- 
 ceives more than can be objectively revealed. 
 
 What possible end can miracles and prophecy 
 subserve, when the very truth they would prove 
 is self-attested to the inward sense? Is there any 
 evidence within the compass of thought more re- 
 sistless than intuitive? Can it be increased or 
 diminished by any kind or degree of proof? And 
 as this faculty sees no evidence out of the objects it 
 grasps, all external evidence of Divine truth is, of 
 necessity, set aside; and all other truth whose evi- 
 dence is not in itself intuitive must be discredited. 
 Hence, asserts one of its American advocates — Dr. 
 Hickok — ^‘Without this faculty the Bible might as 
 well be given to our brutes;’’ and we assert that 
 with it it would be as useless as any amusing alle- 
 gory. 
 
 But is this faculty a reality or a sheer fiction? 
 The solution is easy by mere self-introspection. 
 Make the appeal, then, at once to consciousness. 
 Does this report the existence of a faculty in your 
 mind which instantly gr9,sps spiritual truth without 
 the testimony of the Bible? You know it does not. 
 
166 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES* 
 
 The substitution of it for the spirit of all grace is, 
 therefore, a baseless assumption. 
 
 Had it been a reality, would not the universal 
 agreement of mankind be a fact? Who knows 
 not that what is intuitively known is seen in the 
 same light by all minds? It is not possible it 
 should be otherwise. The notorious diversity in 
 the faith of all ages and nations, touching this very 
 class of truth, is a triumphant refutation of this 
 intuition theory. Its unreality is strongly indi- 
 cated, also, by the common conviction of men, that 
 the mind is constructed for external evidence. Is 
 not the felt certainty substantially the same when 
 the evidence is testimonial, inductive, or intuitive? 
 Do I feel less sure that York exists than that 
 two halves make a whole, or that the three angles 
 of a triangle are equal to two right angles? Were 
 not the mind originally fitted for testimonial evi- 
 dence, eternal doubt would shade all the experiences 
 of the race which lie beyond personal observation. 
 But the ^^new philosophy’' ignores the fact that the 
 Bible, on the sternest penalty, requires faith in its 
 profoundest mysteries, based on testimonial evi- 
 dence. It requires faith in facts which occurred on 
 unknown principles, whose evidence is, therefore, 
 entirely out of themselves. Miracles — that occupy 
 so large a portion of the Bible — to which the Great 
 Restorer himself made his supreme appeal — have 
 ever been regarded as the fittest authentication of 
 supernatural claims. Otherwise, men and devils had 
 
AUTHOEITY OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 
 
 167 
 
 never counterfeited them. Is it demanded, that as 
 false miracles are to be tested by their tendency, 
 (Dent, xiii, 1-3,) why are not true ones to be so 
 tested? You will readily answer that we previously 
 know the truth of principles infracted by false mira- 
 cles, but can not so know the falsehood of what is 
 supported by true miracles. Thus, while true mira- 
 cles are the test of doctrines, doctrines are the test 
 of false miracles. The mode, therefore, of deciding 
 what is from God is unlike that of determining what 
 is not from him. There can be no middle way. 
 Either this ^intuitional reason” pierces the depths 
 of Divinity, or the purely-supernatural doctrine 
 must find its highest support in miraculous attesta- 
 tion. This applies to the Trinity, the incarnation, 
 the resurrection, and to kindred doctrines. What 
 can be more glaringly absurd than to confound our 
 intuitional conception of a miracle with such a con- 
 ception of the nature of that to which it attests ? 
 While miracles come to us in the resistless power 
 of first principles, shining in their own light, that 
 to which they attest may be revealed only by the 
 visions of eternity. 
 
 That the Scriptures make a direct and exclusive 
 appeal to the evidence of sense, in support of these 
 great facts, is unquestionable. Take an example in 
 the central miracle of the Christian religion — the 
 resurrection of Christ. The whole argument for the 
 resurrection of the dead (1 Cor. xv) assumes the 
 validity of external evidence in support of a miracu- 
 
168 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 lous fact. The entire fabric of Christianity is made 
 to rest on the testimony of the hundreds that saw 
 him risen, and on that of those who witnessed the 
 miracles wrought in proof of the fact. The unre- 
 liability of these is the overthrow of the Christian’s 
 faith, and hope, and preaching. The great principle 
 here asserted is the rejection of a philosophical or 
 intuitive support of Christianity, and the proof of 
 its miraculous support. This, then, is subversive 
 of the position that miracles are interpreted and 
 tested by doctrines, and not doctrines by miracles. 
 Were the former so it would utterly supersede 
 miraculous attestation. For by investing the mind 
 with a discernment of the supernatural, we preclude 
 all demand for external attestation of the supernat- 
 ural. What could be more impertinent than mirac- 
 ulously to authenticate those foundation truths were 
 they self-evident? But if those truths be not self- 
 evident, it is impossible they should test miracles 
 \vhich are self-evident. 
 
 The contempt which this theory has generated for 
 the external evidence of revealed religion is decisive 
 of the inference we have urged. It is true the 
 Scriptures are replete with internal evidence — 
 like the great fabric of nature, which, by its beauty, 
 harmony, immensity, and grandeur, is eloquent of 
 its Author — evincive of God. 
 
 But this evidence is not primary, but secondary. 
 Otherwise, the distinction is lost between natural 
 and revealed religion. The fall of man, the trinity 
 
AUTHORITY OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 169 
 
 of God, the incarnation, resurrection, and ascension 
 of Christ, and the like truths, would lie open to the 
 intuitive faculty, as does the unclouded sun to the 
 eye. Now, that these truths lie outside of the intu- 
 itive sphere is proved by a thousand demonstrations. 
 Otherwise the millions utterly ignorant of them 
 should have in all ages seen them with the clearness 
 of vision, while they have remained blind to them 
 as the clods beneath their feet. Where would many 
 divinely-enjoined acts find a justification out of the 
 authority of God? Such as the bloody offering of 
 Abraham, which he was to make of his son; the 
 utter destruction of men, women, and children, which 
 Saul was to make of the then peaceable Amalekites. 
 Would not the broad seal of impiety and inhumanity 
 be stamped on it if not expressly authorized by the 
 Proprietor of all? What spiritual foresight could 
 reach that authority, without which authority this 
 would be murderous cruelty? Whatever requires 
 God s attestation to revealed truth, that very thing 
 requires implicit faith in that truth and obedi- 
 ence to it, and prohibits belief in it prior to that 
 attestation, and all doubt of it subsequent to that 
 attestation. 
 
 It will readily occur to you, that next to the 
 miracles of power is the miracle of foresight in 
 prophecy j and that this is so interwoven with cardi- 
 nal doctrines and corresponding precepts, sustained 
 by miracles of power, that to find these prophecies 
 shams would be stranger than the most stupendous 
 
170 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 miracle of the Bible. Did not God recognize the 
 demand of his commissioned servants for miraculous 
 attestation ? He gave to Moses the required sign to 
 the captives in his wondrous rod ” — to the King 
 
 who demanded, Show us a miracle for you.'’ Was 
 not Elijah's prophetic character divinely vindicated 
 by a miracle which blazed from heaven, extorting 
 from idolaters the exclamation, The Lord he is 
 God!” Christ himself called on his nation to test 
 the Divinity of his character by the ordeal of mira- 
 cles. If I do not the works of my Father, believe 
 me not.” Indeed, the sacred records leave the ob- 
 ject of miracles clear as vision, saying, These mira- 
 cles are written that ye might believe that Jesus 
 Christ is the Son of God.” To authenticate his 
 disciples' message, ^^God bore them witness with 
 signs, and wonders, and divers gifts of the Holy 
 Ghost.” So palpably do both Testaments depend on 
 miracles, that they every-where recognize the prin- 
 ciple, regarding them as seals pledging the Omnipo- 
 tence and Omniscience for the truth of that to which 
 they attest. When did the Bible ever appeal to our 
 intuitive perception ” of its truth as a ground of 
 our faith in its Divinity? The question should be 
 trumpet-tongued. No affirmative answer is possible. 
 
 It is clear as light that this alleged sufficiency 
 of the natural is the utter exclusion of the super- 
 natural. Now, this very thing is the stupendous 
 achievement of the ^^new philosophy.” It abolishes 
 the supernatural by perpetually affirming the es- 
 
AUTHORITY OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 171 
 
 sential unity of reason and revelation/’ and by 
 maintaining that Christian faith is the perfection 
 of human reason;” that the mind’s spiritual in- 
 sight is faith, and that faith is this insight.” You 
 will instantly discriminate between the alleged idm- 
 tity and the real harmony of the two. As the light 
 of reason intensifies and expands, larger portions of 
 revealed truth will come within its sphere ; but this 
 mental progress through eternity can never disclose 
 all that Revelation may announce. Has any thing 
 in the Scriptures struck you more palpably than 
 that they require us to believe in their profound 
 mysteries, and not to reason them out — to weigh 
 the evidences that support them, but to seek those 
 evidences out of the mysteries themselves ? 
 
 There is another point of antagonism between the 
 Scriptures and this philosophy ; it is the false prin- 
 ciple of interpretation which this adopts. All inter- 
 pretation flowing from this principle is, therefore, 
 itself false. It makes that very Revelation, which 
 descended from Heaven to instruct reason, a subject 
 of the critical scrutiny of reason, and thus turns the 
 Bible into a book of riddles, to be solved by that 
 very faculty which could not grasp those truths 
 which the Bible discloses. 
 
 How this new philosophy” is related to sacred 
 literature, and to systematic theology, I need not ex- 
 plain to you. It will spontaneously occur that what 
 is intuitively seen is not laboriously acquired — that it 
 can not need science and literature — broad and pro- 
 
172 
 
 LEGTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 found scholarship ; that rich, and grand, and priceless 
 as are these, they are huge impertinences in relation 
 to what is intuitively seen. Here the far-reaching at- 
 tainments of the theologian — his profound researches 
 in ancient lore and the trifles of childhood — are in 
 value on the same level. Kejecting, therefore, the 
 ^^new philosophy'’ as subversive of all the purposes 
 for which we are to search the Scriptures, in spite 
 of its pretensions we must regard the Bible as self- 
 interpretative, Indeed, self-revelation is intrinsically 
 necessary to a Divine message, so far as to reach 
 every essential doctrine of the message. The hidden 
 harmony in the minutest details of the Bible is the 
 uniting bond in its great outline. Should no portion 
 of the oracle give the sense of what is obscure in 
 other portions, so far it is only a revelation for 
 the future — not for the present. The whole book 
 that is a present revelation is, therefore, self-explica- 
 tive, Were its highest truths within the grasp of 
 reason, every principle of interpretation would be a 
 useless incumbrance. For if reason pierced those 
 truths through the light in which they intrinsically 
 shine, all attempts to converge external lights upon 
 them were a waste of energies. For the most part 
 each portion of these oracles is a reflector -shedding 
 light on all other portions of them. Instead, there- 
 fore, of an intuitive seizure on the import of Scrip- 
 tural mysteries, that import is found by an elabora- 
 tive process more sifting and extensive than can be 
 demanded by any other book. 
 
AUTHOEITY OF THE SUPEKNATUEAL. 
 
 173 
 
 Beloved pupils, I trust you will appreciate the 
 reason for which we have refrained from an ^ex- 
 pression of those intense yearnings for your future 
 which our relations to the departing class have not 
 failed to awaken. Though the apprehension would 
 be agonizing to the Faculty that they should not 
 remain among the objects of your tenderest memo- 
 ries, still is their solicitude greater for your reten- 
 tion of the great principles they have inculcated. 
 If either our persons or these principles must fade 
 from memory, cling to these with exhaustless te- 
 nacity, and consign us to oblivion. We must die — 
 these will live. Our voices will be no more in your 
 ears — their light will shine on all your future foot- 
 steps. We have, therefore, seized on this tenderest 
 moment of our history to engrave on your faculties 
 more deeply some of these great principles. 
 
 Having now reached the point where our ways 
 divide, we feel that both the past and the future 
 are present. The one strangely returns departed 
 events ; the other mysteriously unbosoms unborn 
 events. They are both prophetic, portraying that 
 coming struggle of pleasure, pride, passion, in arms 
 against duty — error against truth. The portion of 
 your being passed in our sacred halls is related to 
 the future as it can never be to the past. There is 
 an affecting sense in which our future and yours 
 will not be apart. 
 
 We shall never cease to attend you till we cease 
 to be among men. Memory will keep you with us, 
 
% 
 
 174 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 and hope will keep us with you. Our eye will 
 trace your path of toil; our heart will palpitate 
 with yours in your hour of woe, and sympathize 
 with yours in the rapture of success; and our pray- 
 ers shall be one agency in securing that success. 
 As to the parent, his scattered children are but the 
 diffusion of himself, so to the teachers the labors 
 of his pupils seem to be the workings of his own 
 mind. Thus are we cheered by the prospect that 
 when our voices shall be mute, our chairs vacated — 
 when the tall grass shall wave over the place of 
 our repose — we shall still act in the minds in which 
 we have breathed our own, and survive in the per- 
 sons which were so long parts of ourselves. So that 
 we part in an hour that is bright with a mysterious 
 conviction, that the uniting link can neither be weak- 
 ened by the flight of years nor dissolved by the bolt 
 of death. 
 
VI. 
 
 ON THE SUPERNATURAL CHARACTERISTICS 
 OF CHRIST: 
 
 A LECTURE TO THE STUDENTS OF THE GARRETT 
 BIBLICAL INSTITUTE. 
 
 Young Gentlemen, — In accordance with your 
 request, I have embodied in a lecture some of the 
 Supernatural Characteristics of Christ. But 
 I must not address this lecture to you without an 
 earnest warning against every attempt to scrutinize 
 those secret laws by which the finite and infinite 
 natures compose his one person. Because we are 
 divinely authorized to predicate of Christ what we 
 do of man, and also to predicate of him what we 
 do of God, we are not to infer that the relations by 
 which this duality becomes personal unity can ever 
 be scputable. In discussing, then, some traits in 
 this most mysterious character, I shall restrict my- 
 self to what God has said of it, and to deductions 
 from these utterances required by the laws of 
 thought. 
 
 I first predicate of Christ that to decide his 
 
 character to be more than human is to determ- 
 
 175 
 
176 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 ine its divinity, and tliat this determination settles 
 the divinity of his religion. That his history was 
 unique at every stage is palpable on its surface. 
 The few light and simple touches which draw his 
 childhood unfold a celestial flower. He was that 
 holy thing of which prophetic harps had myste- 
 riously sung. By a single stroke of the inspired 
 pen his childhood loveliness was thus depicted. ^^He 
 grew up in favor of God and man.” The faces of 
 both worlds smiled upon him. The next sketch in- 
 forms us that ^^he grew and waxed strong in spirit, 
 filled with wisdom.” Had fragrance been wafted 
 on him from both worlds, his moral sweetness could 
 not have been intenser. When, at twelve, he was 
 among the literati of the Temple, propounding and 
 answering far-reaching questions — blending modesty 
 and wisdom so as to astonish without offending the 
 great doctors of the law — his response to his chiding 
 mother, who found him there, was a flash of light on 
 the darkness of the future. 
 
 In his character alone was greatness based on in- 
 nocence. In all others this quality was coupled with 
 childhood weakness, and was fatal to the claim of 
 greatness; but in him, figured by a lamb, it was 
 in harmony with a manly spirit, detracting not 
 from the superhuman grandeur which invested him. 
 The matchless power of this strange combination 
 was felt by all who approached him. When he 
 vacated the Temple of its profaners, they did not 
 fly before his physical force, but before that mys- 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF CHRIST. 
 
 177 
 
 terious majesty within, revealed by an indignant 
 flush which mounted his innocent face. Like God 
 in nature, he clothed his. goodness in thunder and 
 tempest. Though his whole character shone in the 
 light of innocence, yet its greatness, decision, and 
 sublimity seemed measureless as they were spon- 
 taneous. With what terrific significancy did he 
 demand of his enemies, Which of you convinceth 
 me of sin?” The challenge was sweeping. How 
 was it met? Every countenance fell — every mouth 
 was dumb! This would have been so in all worlds. 
 
 The blending of this innocence and majesty in 
 Jesus made his judge tremble before the prisoner at 
 the bar, and wrung from him the avowal of his 
 blamelessness, and the proclaimed purpose to take 
 no responsibility in his blood. And when, as a 
 drooping flower, he hung on the cross, the funereal 
 grief of both worlds was fit honor to his innocence 
 and majesty. Kindred to this was that other trait 
 found in his religious character, which is in entire 
 contrast to that of all religious men. Theirs com- 
 mence with the pangs of guilt; his in the sunshine 
 of innocence. When did confessions of sin or of un- 
 worthiness ever escape his lips? His piety, then, 
 in its beginning, was radically unlike that of our 
 whole race. Never did he utter regret for what he 
 had thought, felt, said, or acted, or omitted. How 
 could this arrogant claim, though tacitly made, fail 
 to cover Christ with derision, had the origin of his 
 goodness been like that of other men ? No regret — 
 
178 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 no reproach — no compunction^ even by implication, 
 was ever found in his manifestations. Who was 
 this, without a tear of contrition — a sigh of repent- 
 ant grief — a confession of wrong? The root of his 
 piety was in innocence; the root of human piety is 
 in godly sorrow. What would be proper in him 
 would, in any other, be intolerable arrogance. If, 
 then, he were sinless, how could there be a greater 
 exception to the law of human development ? If 
 not — if he inherited sin — how strangely did he take 
 up religion without repentance, and practice stain- 
 less purity, without a spot, to the end of life ! How 
 could his character awaken the admiration of the 
 race, and yet at bottom be radically false? 
 
 Nor were his social characteristics less extraor- 
 dinary. Who else was ever equally remote from 
 laughter and moroseness? He was alone in the 
 serene medium he occupied. His never-varying 
 placidity would render a mere man unendurable, as 
 his heart should respond to those varying impulses 
 which it was formed to feel. But who ever com- 
 plained for the want of sympathy in Christ? His 
 heart related chiefly to the world above, and its 
 sympathies flowed through deeper channels; still, 
 on fit occasions in his mighty life, the depth and 
 richness of his sympathies were evinced by their 
 noble outgushings. Others doomed to his priva- 
 tions would awaken our pity, but who ever felt that 
 emotion toward him? Dead to earthly interest as 
 if an angel’s heart beat in his bosom — though im- 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF CHRIST. 
 
 179 
 
 passive to social charms^ yet without repugnance to 
 them — without the slightest tinge of misanthropy. 
 His relations to the humanities of society were 
 under the law of absorption in the glories of the 
 Godhead. Whether at the wedding, the banquet, 
 or the funeral, his emotions arose in harmony 
 with the occasion. At one, he congratulates ; at 
 the other, he instructs; at the last, he weeps. 
 
 Another of Christ’s claims was inherent affinity 
 with God. ^‘1 came forth from the Father” — am 
 from above” — '^He thought it not robbery to be 
 equal with God.” These are among the astounding 
 claims which strangely harmonized with his whole 
 bearing. He assumed toward the race the attitude 
 of supremacy — the power of giving repose to bewil- 
 dered humanity. Who else ever dared to palm 
 himself on the world as its patron — its light — its 
 deliverer; yet so intimately do these sentiments 
 enter into his teachings, that were they extracted 
 from it nothing would remain. How deeply it is 
 felt that his tacit assumptions far exceed the range 
 of all formal expression — as and the Father that 
 
 sent me!” ^AVe will make our abode with him!” 
 and the like. What mere prophet, apostle, or angel 
 would not shudder to involve such a claim ! These 
 claims of Jesus have been sounding through the ages 
 for eighteen centuries, and none have been able to 
 detect dis<S*epancy between his pretensions and his 
 merits. Were he not Divine, this would be the most 
 vulnerable point of assault. This is, indeed, the 
 
180 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 weakest, if it be not the strongest point in his 
 character. 
 
 The work Christ prescribed to himself was great, 
 difficult, and complicated ; but when did he ever slip 
 or falter in its execution? He poured on his work 
 the whole energy of his mighty life, without a 
 symptom of weariness. Others, with not a hund- 
 redth part of his work on their hands, are impatient 
 of delay, and when retarded strike fire against the 
 obstacle in their way. But Christ, having no crude 
 element in his motives, was, in the presence of ob- 
 stacles, calm as a Summer evening; the darkest 
 cloud sailing over him left his sky unobscured. 
 Were he merely human, the sweep of his plan would 
 prove him the wildest of enthusiasts. His pro- 
 gramme was to establish a kingdom of God pervad- 
 ing the whole earth, giving a new moral constitution 
 to the race — to do this without education, in the 
 face of his nation’s prejudice, and despite the uni- 
 versal empire of Rome. In accordance with this 
 measureless scheme, he proclaimed himself — the 
 Son — to be the gift of the Father’s love; the field 
 he should occupy, the world; and the commission of 
 hrs ministers, commensurate with the whole race. 
 All the records of the race may be challenged to 
 furnish another such example. The founders of 
 states, the rulers of empires, the discoverers of con- 
 tinents, lawgivers, conquerors, and heroes have not, 
 on all their brilliant list, an approach toward it. 
 
 How strange ! — the son of a carpenter, emanating 
 

 CHARACTEEISTICS OF CHRIST. 181 
 
 from his shop, without letters or titles, without ever 
 having seen a map of half the nations he was to 
 control, or even heard their names-^how strange 
 that he should adopt a scheme sweeping over all 
 nations, and all their generations ! What was the 
 ■Assyrian, the Grecian, the Eoman empires — erected 
 by the conquest of a thousand fields, and cemented 
 by the blood of mighty heroes? — what in extent, in 
 grandeur, and in the principle on which they were 
 founded — those, in the blood of myriads; this, in 
 the dying love of philanthropy? With what calm- 
 ness and assurance did the Fouuder look through his 
 own death as the medium of the brightest achieve- 
 ments of his great enterprise. Another distinctive 
 of Christ was, he commenced his kingdom by appro- 
 priating the poor. His manners, tastes, and attain- 
 ments were all diverse from those of his chosen 
 associates. The great were often his hearers and 
 admirers, but never his chosen companions. Among 
 the crowds of the sick he was like a nurse in a 
 hospital. He waited on pain, and vanquished its 
 causes. The whole category of diseases he en- 
 countered only to cure. Thus was that very class, 
 ignored by all other great men, the special regard 
 of Christ. The poor had been made the appendages 
 of luxury — the tools of ambition — the instruments 
 of war. He made them the friends of his bosom, 
 and the inheritors of his kingdom. 
 
 Indeed, the flight of eighteen centuries has not 
 fully revealed how far was the carpenter’s son in 
 
182 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 a^dvance of his age. This anticipative feature in his 
 scheme proclaimed its transcendent depth and com- 
 prehensiveness. It has been ascertained by the 
 operation of Christ's kingdom, that to upraise the 
 masses is the highest economical interests of society. 
 Christ’s ORIGINALITY as a teacher has been justly 
 marked with deep emphasis. When this rare char- 
 acteristic distinguishes men, it lies within the bound- 
 ary of educated thought — can be developed only by 
 discipline. But to all his cotemporaries it was 
 known that Christ had never learned.” It is thus 
 palpable, on the very face of his lessons, that he had 
 nothing in common with his age; no opinion, taste, 
 prejudice, or any other one thing belonging to a Jew 
 of Caesar’s time. The assertion that he drew on the 
 Persian or Eastern religion, or on the Essenes, or 
 on the more famous schools of Egypt, is so utterly 
 fanciful as not to deserve refutation. His original- 
 ity shines through freeness, simplicity, directness, 
 and thrilling power of his teaching. All self-made 
 men, not excluding Shakspeare himself, have their 
 productions tinged with educational colorings. Not 
 so with this great High Priest of Nature and of 
 God. Far from philosophic was his divine teach- 
 ing. No argument was based on critically-con- 
 structed premises. Compared to his teaching, dia- 
 lectic reasoning is an opaque substance between the 
 eye and the object. His utterances filled the ‘world 
 with a flood of light, revealing God, which the con- 
 spiracies of all hostile agencies have failed to quench. 
 
CHARACTEKISTICS OF CHRIST. 
 
 183 
 
 His lessons still come upon the nations, like incense 
 from a higher world, to neutralize the poison they 
 breathe. 
 
 Another peculiarity of the Great Teacher was, his 
 instant repulse of every national expectation of the 
 Messiah. Well did he know how eagerly his nation 
 panted for a Messiah that should make their Eoman 
 conquerors lick the dust. But he told them that 
 peacemakers were blessed — that he was no warrior, 
 or king, or avenger — that his mission was to save 
 them from the very characteristics which they hoped 
 would most distinguish him. Thus did he dash at 
 once their most cherished hopes. Still, such was the 
 ineffable charm which invested his person, that thou- 
 sands ceased not to cling to him. What could more 
 severely test his power over men than to baffle their 
 dearest hopes, and yet retain their utmost confi- 
 dence? Again, Christ’s exemption from man’s in- 
 firmity is proved by his singular balance of char- 
 acter. What age has not been marked by the 
 operation of that law by which two parties advo- 
 cate opposite extremes, and a third the medium 
 between them. None have been on the exact point 
 of equilibrium. Christ was no where else. This 
 distinguished the great teacher. Knowing truth 
 intuitively j he needed not to compare ideas, or bal- 
 ance opposites; the conclusion was seen in the 
 premises, and thus all one-sidedness was precluded. 
 Let a few lessons be illustrations : His disciples 
 
 must neither renounce their allegiance to Caesar, nor 
 
184 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 deny their Messiah at the command of Csesar; the 
 Scribes and Pharisees are to be resisted in their 
 tradition, but obeyed in the commands of Moses. 
 
 We can not scrutinize our Great Restorer too 
 intensely as a reformer. What^ as such, did he 
 find to approve in society. Church, or State? Yet 
 when did he array himself in antagonism to the 
 world? The human reformer, finding obstacles in 
 his way, which nothing but his death can surmount, 
 becomes restive and bitter by delay, and often 
 kindles into a frenzy threatening to sweep away the 
 obstacles in his way, and ends with a character ^ 
 tinged with malignity. In what beautiful contrast 
 to all this did He appear, who went about doing 
 good, his history decides. Had all hearts beat in 
 his bosom, he could not have been more serene and 
 cordial — more patient and hopeful* — though all the 
 institutions in the world were on his hands for re- 
 construction, and a hundred ages the requisite pe- 
 riod for the revolution. I remark again that he was 
 equally remote from superstition, and what is styled 
 liberality. What other uneducated mind tends not 
 to superstition or to free-thinking? But how un- 
 approachably far was he from either! How cloud- 
 lessly this shines in many of his short lessons, can 
 not have escaped us. To the priests he said. You 
 think that the Sabbath of Moses stands in the let- 
 ter; I tell you that it was made for man. The 
 same superstition could instigate his murder, but 
 not go into the judgment-seat, fearing defilement. 
 
CHARACTERISTICS OF CHRIST. 
 
 185 
 
 It was not liberality but charity which constituted 
 the ground of Christ’s procedure. 
 
 His scrupulous adherence to every iota of truth 
 excluded all error with that laxity involving licen- 
 tiousness. How unlike was Christ, at another point, 
 to the great sages of antiquity, who maintained that 
 the -wise only were capacitated to grasp the high 
 arguments for the Supreme ! He placed the knowl- 
 edge of God within the compass of every class, on 
 principles assuming the unity of the race. Hence 
 we infer that he was utterly alone in his manner 
 of teaching all ethical duties. His was not an elab- 
 orated system, wrought out by abstruse and subtile 
 argument, but inculcated by precepts shining by 
 their own light, and robed in their own authority — 
 flowing from the loftiest argument without employ- 
 ing a shadow of argument. When did Christ study 
 ethics to teach morality any more than God studied 
 (Esthetics to fashion the landscape? The peerless 
 splendor of his mind poured itself forth in those 
 living precepts which presuppose principles under- 
 lying all duties — as, Blessed are the poor, etc.; 
 Do good to them that persecute you, and the like. 
 The transcendent beauty of this doctrine is not 
 exhibited to such as admire it as a beautiful pic- 
 ture, but to such as practice it as a rule of life. 
 What can be more amazing than that the trans- 
 cendent hight of these lessons is no bar against 
 their permeating the commonest mind. 
 
 Of the many remainihor characteristics of God’s 
 
186 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 only Son was the increase of reverence for him by 
 familiarity with him. It is a social law that dis- 
 tance lends enchantment — intimacy dissolves the 
 charms and reveals the infirmities which remoteness 
 had concealed. Thus great men are reduced to 
 their proper dimensions, and our estimate becomes 
 measured by their qualities. A law the reverse of 
 this operated in the case of Christ. The greater 
 the disciples’ intimacy with him, the deeper their 
 awe of him. The scale was ascending — their views 
 of him gradually rose from the man to the God. 
 At first he was the son of Mary — then he spake 
 with authority — then he was certainly Elias re- 
 turned to earth in resurrection power — next he is 
 the promised Messiah ; finally, at the piercing glance 
 of his omniscient eye, Peter breaks down, his heart 
 dissolves in contrition, and his eye in tears. In 
 the same direction his enemies advanced in their 
 convictions. At first they regarded him as a fa- 
 natic; then inquired whence he derived his singu- 
 lar accomplishments. Next, those sent to arrest 
 him, awe-smitten by his majesty, exclaimed, Never 
 man spake like this man!” Others, coming to ap- 
 prehend him, drop like corpses as they approached 
 him. His silent submission made Pilate tremble on 
 his judgment-seat; and when guilt was consum- 
 mated in his death, the multitude returned smiting 
 on their breasts with anguish before his suffering 
 majesty. Thus growing familiarity issued in grow- 
 ing reverence ; instead of disclosing inferiority, it 
 
CHARACTEEISTICS OF CHRIST. 
 
 187 
 
 revealed mysterious depths of divinity. That the 
 fact of such an existing person in human history 
 has been doubted, we blush to concede ; but shall 
 now resort to none of that abundant evidence by 
 which doubt is vanquished, except he has been de- 
 scribed. 
 
 If this description be unreal, then this character 
 has been drawn by fancy ^ aided by fable. But to 
 fabricate such a character involved greater diffi- 
 culty than to possess it, especially for four to do it 
 in perfectly-substantial harmony. The only ade- 
 quate reason for this character having been actu- 
 ally portrayed is, that it has been actualized by 
 living example. No poet has created it ; no novel- 
 ist sketched it; no philosopher invented it. To be- 
 lieve it the achievement of fiction requires more 
 credulity than to credit its reality in Christ. The 
 fact, then, that such a character is described is 
 the proof that such a person existed; and the fact 
 that he existed is the proof that he is Divine. 
 Vitiate that single pretension — his innocence — and 
 you make him an impostor, as the perfect harmony 
 of his character makes each part of it what all 
 other parts are; but if the root of all the trans- 
 cendent beauty which adorned his character were 
 guiltj then was it a miracle such as the world 
 never heard of. 
 
 Who ever studied his life without feeling there 
 was blended in it the sublimest precepts and 
 the divinest practice — that the flood of truth he 
 
188 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 poured out was beautiful as the light, lofty as 
 heaven, and true as God ! Never .did the sun of 
 humanity rise so high as in Jesus. The two thou- 
 sand years which have fled since he was with us 
 have failed to produce one among the millions of 
 men who has fully mastered his thoughts, or grasped 
 his method, or exactly copied his stainless life. In 
 this rapid sketch of Him who stands alone on the 
 records of the universe, you will perceive that none 
 of his supreme attributes are grouped in his his- 
 tory ; only those characteristics are collected which 
 beautified the human sphere, leaving the inference 
 resistless that his life could not have been what it 
 was had not his person been what he claimed — 
 EQUAL WITH GoD.’' 
 
VII. 
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF LOCATING A BIBLICAL 
 INSTITUTE IN THE WEST: 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT CONCORD, N. H. 
 
 Beijthren and Friends, — While the expediency 
 of a Biblical Institute in the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church is being thoroughly discussed, that in New 
 England is employing a most decisive mode of argu- 
 ment— its workings are its reasons. It has toiled 
 patiently in its probationary sphere for seven years. 
 Every eye in the New England ministry has been 
 strained to scrutinize its operations. There has 
 been but one issue of this rigorous investigation. 
 It is this, a united voice for an ^Mnstitute,” ring- 
 ing from end to end of the land of the Pilgrims. 
 
 This great revolution has been achieved, not by 
 a single turning event, not by a series of ingenious 
 arguments, not by the preponderating influence of a 
 great name, but by the beneficial workings of the 
 enterprise itself. These proved themselves harmo- 
 nious with the evangelical scheme of the itinerancy, 
 that they were a new application of an old prin- 
 ciple which that scheme had previously incorpo- 
 rated. When this conviction shall pervade a larger 
 
190 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADBEESSES. 
 
 portion of the Church, she will, through her highest 
 councils, give her prompt and remorseless sanction 
 to the school of the prophets. Then will her bishops 
 be her committee of supervision, her conferences be 
 her legal guardians, and her prayers her perpetual 
 offering. So that long after the weary hands which 
 have toiled to establish it shall be cold in death, 
 ten thousand voices shall greet its expansion, and 
 bless the dark days of its infant agonies. ^ 
 
 No discussion on the merits of the enterprise will 
 here be attempted. Its beneficial character must 
 now be assumed, so that 5^011 may allow me to hint 
 at its importance in the great American Valley.’' 
 Having just completed a tour of observation through 
 this future garden of the New World, I can not 
 repress the inspiration of its scenes. The nation 
 rising up there has suddenly reached a maturity 
 which history records of no other nation. This 
 never had, like other nations, a semi-barbarism out 
 of which slowly to emerge, and gradually to attain 
 civilization through the waste of centuries; it was 
 born in full manhood. The great elements of its 
 character it imported from the disciplined East; 
 these elements it has improved by the giant object 
 which the hand of nature has thrown around them 
 in the West. The toils, and reverses, and perils 
 which often crush the spirit of the emigrant have 
 here only elicited reserved energies, so as to in- 
 vigorate the mind and enlarge its empire. The 
 encountering of obstacles and the achievement of 
 
BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN THE WEST. 
 
 191 
 
 triumplis have here been forced into the relation 
 of cause and effect. It was impossible that the 
 amplitude of the scale on which nature is displayed 
 should be inoperative on man. What mind can find 
 itself in this wondrous valley, whose circumference 
 is the sweep of eight thousand miles — whose out- 
 limits are the hights of Alleghany on the east, the 
 Rocky Mountains on the west, the Gulf of Mexico 
 on the south, and the inland seas on the north — 
 and not feel itself expanded? 
 
 The exhaustless wealth of the Western mines — 
 the length and majesty of the rivers — the ocean- 
 like extent of the prairies, limited only by the in- 
 ambient arch of heaven — are among the peerless 
 distinctives of this great country. The rush of 
 population to this wide harvest-field has had no 
 parallel out of California. Sixty years since, over 
 all this eight thousand miles circumference, were 
 scattered but one hundred and fifty thousand souls. 
 Now, ten times that number are found within a 
 single State. This valley, which has half the ex- 
 tent of all Europe, four times that of the Atlantic 
 States, and twenty times that of all New England, 
 must become the theater of stupendous events. 
 Here, where my own eyes have seen a single field 
 of corn of sufficient extent to make twenty Eastern 
 farms — where the first harvest often exceeds in 
 value the cost of the soil on which it grows — it is 
 impossible that wealth should not rapidly accumu- 
 late, and population speedily become dense. Indeed, 
 17 
 
192 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 the recent past vouches for the future. Look at 
 the city of Chicago, which in less than two years 
 has added to its population more than fifty per cent. 
 An increase any thing like this ratio would people 
 the great valley with scores of millions long before 
 the grave will open to receive your youngest chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Nor will number alone be the exclusive element 
 of power in the West. Another will be found in 
 the vigor of character which it shall furnish. Its 
 various population represents nearly twenty nations 
 of the Old World. Should the same result arise 
 from the blending of these nations in the New 
 World, as was witnessed by the commixture of 
 Eastern and Western minds by the Alexandrian 
 and the Koman conquests, masterly powers, phys- 
 ical and intellectual, will here develop themselves. 
 The traveler, while gliding over these broad plains, 
 revolving such thoughts, feels overpowered by the 
 prospects of the future. He hears the tread of 
 millions rushing into these exhaustless fields; he 
 marks the agencies which are to operate upon them, 
 both physically and morally. The fertility of the 
 soil, the ease with which it is cultivated, and the 
 perpetuity of its productiveness, admit of both the 
 accumulation of wealth and the indulgence of indo- 
 lence. All history shows that this combination in- 
 sures speedy corruption; but far more appalling will 
 he regard the moral agency at work. He looks at 
 Homan superstition, made palatable by a most al- 
 
BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN THE WEST. 
 
 193 
 
 luring address wliicli a thorough education for that 
 purpose could furnish, and which has marked the 
 West for the field of its triumph. Jesuitical arti- 
 fice is exhausting its resources for the attainment 
 of this object; German neology operates in another 
 direction to overthrow our institutions, but with 
 not much less fatal efiicacy. The leaders of both 
 these classes are learned, adroit, persistent, and in- 
 domitable. The one, to make this young republic 
 a nation of infidels; the other, to crush it beneath 
 the foot of ^Giis Holiness'' which other ages have 
 placed on the neck of monarchs. 
 
 In view, then, of this fearful capacity for self- 
 corruption, and these powerful temptations to per- 
 petrate it, the problem for speedy solution is. How 
 shall these influences be counteracted? That the 
 ministry of reconciliation is one of the most puis- 
 sant elements employed by God's moral government 
 over man, is known no less by its tendency than by 
 its history. The legitimate exercise of this ministry, 
 and the power of self-government, stand in the order 
 of cause and effect; but the qualifications of these 
 agents must correspond to the purposes of their 
 vocation in the depth and breadth of their culture, 
 in high intellectual discipline, in rich and grow- 
 ing moral wealth. ^These guard the pulpit with a 
 might which nothing else below a miracle can sup- 
 ply. The demand in the West on our pulpit for 
 ’.hese is loud and unequivocal; these, combined with 
 he restored life of God to the inner man of the 
 
194 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 minister, make the pulpit an agency with which 
 Western society can never dispense. Such a min- 
 istry is a central luminary around which, as satel- 
 lites, schools, and colleges, and seminaries gather. 
 
 To give growing strength to this agency in the 
 West, the friends of our ministry have determined 
 to open a Methodist Biblical Institute, like 
 that at Concord, on the first day of January next, 
 near Chicago. That city is the miracle of the new 
 world. A more eligible location could not be at- 
 tained out of the Atlantic States. That city is the 
 gate through which the stream of population passes 
 into the boundless prairies beyond. It feels the 
 controlling agency of Eastern mind made larger by 
 communing with the colossal objects of the West. 
 It is distinguished by an amount of intelligence, 
 benevolence, and enterprise, in connection with our 
 Church, which at no distant period will, in that 
 great valley, quicken our institutions into higher 
 life. The proximity of the prospective Institute 
 to the North-Western University will be an event 
 of great importance to both institutions; each to 
 a most beneficial extent will act on the other, and 
 up to a certain limit can effect a useful exchange 
 of labor. 
 
 But you will permit me, friends, before dismiss- 
 ing the Western enterprise, to detain you a few 
 moments with my own relations to the school of 
 the prophets” in this place — Concord. I will delay 
 only sufficient to reply to the inquiry urged by so 
 
BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN THE WEST. 
 
 195 
 
 many, Why do you leave the Concord Institute ? 
 To this I answer explicitly, the reason of this step 
 is not a desire for a broader and brighter sphere 
 of public action. If there be such within the range 
 of ministerial duties, it is in this case without al- 
 lurement; nor has emolument, or fame, or more 
 elevated associations any agency in working this 
 change; nor has the abatement of interest in this 
 noble institution, in its inmates, its officers, its 
 workings, or in its sacred halls, acted the smallest 
 part in my removal. They at*e all endeared to me 
 by the strongest ties of interesting association. The 
 scenes which have opened on us here are among 
 those few that are the most deep and tender of life. 
 The hundreds of commissioned young men who, 
 under the sacred pressure of a call from Heaven, 
 have here investigated inspired truth with an earn- 
 estness to which nothing but God’s voice could have 
 moved them, seem still to hover around this con- 
 secrated center, though their farewell long since 
 trembled on their lips. 
 
 But at the command of duty the dearest and 
 highest associations must be sundered. Nor is it 
 dread that the formidable opposition to the Insti- 
 tute will again be arrayed against it which it so 
 patiently endured at its incipiency, by some who 
 should have deeply seated it in the affections of 
 their heart; nor the pecuniary embarrassments with 
 which it so bravely struggled when it was totally 
 without funds; nor do I dissolve my relations to 
 
196 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 tlie Institute because the experiment lias^ in the 
 slightest degree been a failure. Directly the re- 
 verse! The rigor of the test by which it has been 
 tried has developed its inherent vitality — has shown 
 that it burst into being by the force of Frovidential 
 circumstances, and can never lose its power to live 
 till its mission is accomplished. Its present position 
 precludes the need of recalling those unique facts 
 strewed along its seven years' pilgrimage. Nor do 
 I seek another post in the hope of occupying one 
 less toilful. It is true this has been exhaustingly 
 laborious; that it has tasked every hour and every 
 energy; that it has compelled us to watch while 
 others, slept. But as claims equally exacting will 
 be made in my next field, lighter labor can create 
 no incentive to choose it. Nor can the fear of 
 diminished support remove me to the West. The 
 state of our finances was never so hopeful as at 
 this moment. The mass of Methodistic mind in 
 New England having reached the conclusion that 
 the Institute supplies a desideratum in our Church, 
 it will advance to its support. By cautious and 
 successive steps it has been guided to this con- 
 clusion; the light of observation has fallen on its 
 path, and conviction has culminated. 
 
 Indeed, there are cheering indications that the 
 dark days of its pecuniary embarrassment are num- 
 bered. In one word, a teacher’s place in this In- 
 stitute j with all its anxieties, privations, and toils, 
 is one of the most eligible to which I could look 
 
BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN THE WEST. 197 
 
 forward in this militant state. You ask, Why then 
 abandon it ? I answer, To occupy a field louder 
 in its claims, and sterner in its demands. This is 
 the motive and the only motive within the com- 
 pass of thought. The West — the generous, mag- 
 nanimous West- — rich in its resources, irrepressible 
 in its energies, magnificent in its achievements — 
 stretching one hand to the Atlantic on the east, 
 and the other over the Pacific on the west — the 
 future center of nations where the destiny of the 
 species may yet be arbitrated — this grand, myste- 
 rious reservation of God for the home of his Church, 
 is the place for our next ministerial school. There, 
 near Chicago, the future London of the New World, 
 will it stand on the salubrious banks of that inland 
 sea. I do not leave you, then, to abandon this sub- 
 lime object to which I have consecrated what little 
 remains to me of life, but to promote it more effect- 
 ually in the midst of a broader field. But let me 
 beseech every friend of ministerial education to act 
 unwaveringly for the interests of this Institute. 
 
 Now, my dear young brethren, having taken 
 these few retrospective glances, may I be permitted 
 to make one or two prospective utterances? Earn- 
 estly desiring to divert none of your number from 
 Concord Institute — possessing the advantage of 
 seven years' priority — I simply suggest that you 
 leave Chicago Institute to those whose residences 
 are nearer to it than to this place, and to those 
 intending to seek their future itinerant field in the 
 
198 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 West. Such we shall greet with the liveliest in- 
 terest in our distant halls, and assure them that 
 their associations with Western mind in the class- 
 room will be a momentous preparative to their 
 higher command of that mind in the itinerancy. 
 There will be formed an acquaintance with those 
 peculiar agencies which have so largely contributed 
 to form Western character. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE TEACHER’S PARTING WORD: 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE FIRST GRADUATING CLASS OF THE 
 GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE. 
 
 Beloved Pupils, — Prior to a few parting words 
 to you, will you permit me to utter a single sug- 
 gestion to the audience ? Friends of ministerial 
 education, the events of this evening assure you 
 that the Garrett Biblical Institute shall have a 
 history all its own. This first class which it grad- 
 uates carries us back to its origin and forward to 
 its futurity. The developments of its future will 
 never cease to borrow splendor from the facts of 
 its origin. The premature departure of its noble 
 founder has only made dearer to memory her beau- 
 tiful character. Cold is that great heart which 
 Conceived the institution, motionless the hand that 
 founded it, and sightless the eyes that looked with 
 maternal intensity on its infant being. But though 
 ^^dead she yet speaketh;’’ and the tones of her gen- 
 tle voice shall create the music of ages. Hers is 
 among those embalmed names which were never 
 born to die. It will have utterance on distant 
 
 shores, where its anointed students shall blow the 
 
 199 
 
200 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 living trumpet. Would that Godlike woman were 
 present with us to-night ! And is she not ? I 
 know that face is pale which was mantled with 
 blushes at our opening, when designated by the 
 thrilling eloquence of our lamented Watson. I 
 know that bosom is still which then yearned and 
 throbbed for the elevation of our ministerial stand- 
 ard ; but I do not know that the seraphic spirit 
 that warmed it shares not in our deep emotions. 
 If from their seats of light the just look down on 
 their pilgrim brethren — if they participate in the 
 deepest emotions of rejoicing humanity — she now 
 mysteriously hears the voice that breathes her 
 name, and secretly hovers around us while we 
 commemorate her immortal achievement. But if 
 her ethereal abode is too lofty for such commin- 
 gling, it is not unadapted to her survey of those 
 imperishable results of her bequest, which shall 
 brighten the expanding circle of coming ages. 
 
 Turning to you, beloved class, I beg to remind 
 you of the point you have reached, and of the re- 
 sponsibilities which ensue. Here our ways divide, 
 our relations dissolve, and a new sphere of action 
 opens before you. You will no more reappear to 
 fill the seats you have vacated in our halls. The , 
 itinerant field opens before you, and we trust will 
 smile beneath the culture of your hands. But this 
 change from being students in the Institute to be- 
 coming itinerants on the circuit but partially sepa- 
 rates you from your former selves. The student 
 
THE teacher’s PARTING WORD. 201 
 
 will ever look forward to the itinerant, and he will as 
 steadily look back on the student. How broad soever 
 may be the limits of your mental development, of 
 this one fact, your researches have convinced you 
 that this culture is only in its incipiency. Should 
 it ever be completed in the remotest and brightest 
 futurity, you are sure that this consummation lies 
 far beyond the limits of your earthly pilgrimage. 
 A finished education makes no part of the history 
 of the universe. A stationary mind would obstruct 
 the wheels of Providence, and make a jarring chord 
 in the harp of infinite praise. Your culture has 
 begun, but is not finished. The functions of your 
 ministry should not obstruct but advance it. In 
 all the unfoldings of divine mystery no scene may 
 more astonish us than the unlikeness of our present 
 selves to our future selves. 
 
 But though to dwarf the intellect involves ineffa- 
 ble guilt, the advance of that endowment is not 
 your only mission. Your institutional advantages 
 are indeed priceless. They are ordained to throw 
 forward an accumulating light upon all the stages 
 of your endless advancement. But a stronger ele- 
 ment than intellectual wealth appertains to the 
 ministerial character. It must be imbued by the 
 mighty unction of the living God. Whatever is 
 substituted for this unction is no less to be dreaded 
 by the minister than ignorance itself. Acquire 
 whatever you may of all that adorns the mental 
 being. Never let it escape you, my dear brethren, 
 
202 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 that, wanting this supernatural element, your de- 
 fect would be radical. 
 
 The sacredness of the ministerial character is no 
 where found separate from this heavenly endow- 
 ment. This was the matchless distinction of the 
 fathers in the great Wesleyan reform. Their glow- 
 ing philanthropy had been kindled at the altar of 
 God. It is true, a portion of them were peerless 
 in their scholarship ; long had they communed with 
 the great minds of departed ages — enriched their 
 stores by the mental wealth of the dead and of the 
 living — still, the splendors of their learning shone 
 subordinately to the flame of their devotion. This 
 made their aim single, their zeal intense, their en- 
 ergies undivided, and their self-sacrifice a habit of 
 life, and their sacred sympathy commensurate with 
 the world’s moral miseries. In perilous achieve- 
 ments they were heroes — in spirit they were mar- 
 tyrs — in success they were apostolical — in unself- 
 ishness sublime. (Commune evermore, my dear 
 brethren, with these model ministers. At the earn- 
 est call of your voice they will reappear on the 
 stage, and act over again their noble part before 
 your eyes. May they ever live in their successors, 
 and even be exceeded by their sons ! 
 
 Another element of power found in the vital doc- 
 trines of our Great Teacher I have not time to 
 even specify. Let me, however, beg you not to 
 overlook the genius of our religion, that it is founded 
 on miraculous facts — that its particular duties are 
 
THE teachek’s paeting woed. 203 
 
 enjoined by the inculcation of far-reaching princi- 
 ples — that its vicarious character gives no more 
 luster to mercy than it does terror to justice — that 
 its grand aim is not merely to civilize humanity, 
 but to restore and purify it — not to fit man for so- 
 ciety, but for the skies. No elegance of manner, 
 no depth of culture, no personal blandishments can 
 take the place of these vital truths. These must 
 be arranged in their order, traced to first princi- 
 ples, and applied in their details. 
 
 But in these parting words permit me to remind 
 you, brethren, of your special relation to the insti- 
 tution. In Methodism an institutional education of 
 our ministry is a modern expedient. You are the 
 first representatives of such a training to the Church 
 in the North-West. In a most inquisitive gaze 
 every eye will be fixed on you. In your character 
 will be studied the character of the institution. 
 Should yours exhibit an awkward, forbidding, or 
 morose bearing, what will be the inference as to 
 your ^^Alma Mater T' Not that she is adapted to 
 form ministerial character, but rather to manufac- 
 ture churlish monks — not to qualify men, but to 
 unfit them for that varied adaptation demanded in 
 the itinerant field. On the other hand, should your 
 social character be imbued with levity or pedantry, 
 what else will be referred to the institution which 
 is supposed to have formed it? 
 
 Let us hope, then, that your class will appreciate 
 the immense importance of fairly representing this 
 
204 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 newly-adopted mode of our ministerial education, 
 that the beauty of its character will allure others 
 to our sacred halls where that was molded, and 
 that it will be a worthy forerunner of those com- 
 missioned thousands which are to pass from thence 
 into the Lord’s great harvest-field of the World. 
 
 Who that nobly aspires at higher ministerial at- 
 tainments would not recoil from the Institute should 
 they find in its graduates those revolting char- 
 acteristics? Whether this shall be the mode of 
 educating our junior ministry is not yet an en- 
 tirely-adjudicated question. In the character of our 
 students will be •sought the test of experiment. If 
 that character shall have serenity, beauty, and 
 force, then will it inscribe approval in letters of 
 light on the most enduring monuments of the age. 
 When our graduates shall exhibit that prismatic 
 beauty of character which shines in the growing cul- 
 ture of intellect, the expanding richness of thought, 
 and the intenser flame of devotion — when the ar- 
 dor of Peter, the affection of John, and the heroism 
 of Paul shall shed on that character their blended 
 brightness — then will our Church regard the prob- 
 lem solved ; then will you honor your institution, 
 your instructors, your Church, your race, and your 
 God; then will you live to be loved, die to be 
 lamented, and enter the general assembly to be 
 greeted by your converts, and crowned by your 
 Master. 
 
 Should the delusion to any extent afiect you, 
 
THE teacher’s PARTING WORD. 205 
 
 that education is an end^ and not a means to a 
 loftier end, so far would the perversion of your 
 education be complete. The end is action — wise, 
 persistent, all-mastering action — action that yields 
 to no obstacle — that knows no defeat — that erects 
 in every field of godlike enterprise monuments of 
 its sanctified power. 
 
 And now, beloved pupils, let the hour that sepa- 
 rates us attest to our final purpose — a purpose of 
 deep and everlasting self-consecration — a purpose 
 which shall command all the powers of our nature, 
 and all the motives of our being — a purpose which 
 shall control all our acquired abilities, all our in- 
 herited faculties, and all our gracious attainments — 
 a purpose which shall lay under contribution the 
 subjective and objective to that one immortal aim. 
 Then shall we live less for the present and more 
 for the future — less for ourselves and more for 
 others — less for earth and more for heaven. 
 
 Then when earth’s great drama shall be wound 
 up — when all prophecy shall become history, and 
 all history shall have been completed — when its 
 vast volume shall have been thrown open on the 
 judgment-seat for the race to read, and the divided 
 throng shall enter each its respective abode, may 
 ours not be wanting the souls we shall have won ! 
 There shall be renewed our suspended intercourse, 
 and the farewell of this period become the greeting 
 of that. 
 
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IX. 
 
 MAN INDIVIDUAL-MAN SOCIAL: 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE LITERARY SO- 
 CIETIES OF THE UPPER IOWA UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Mr. President, Gentlemen of the Society, 
 AND Friends, — In obedience to the call with 
 which you have honored me, I have been com- 
 pelled, in the midst of pressing cares, hastily to 
 prepare for the occasion — to dispense with that de- 
 liberate preparation imperiously demanded by our 
 annual addresses. So intense has been my desire 
 for the mental culture of our young men, that to 
 decline any effort to promote it would be unmanly. 
 But how far a burning desire for this will compen- 
 sate for sweeping thought and enchanting style — 
 which most contribute to this — yourselves must de- 
 termine. 
 
 The theme for the occasion is man an individ- 
 ual, and man a society. On this broad subject, 
 which volumes could not exhaust, I propose to de- 
 tain you but for a brief period. The axiomatical 
 injunction of Greece, ^^Know thyself,’' will have 
 
 undiminished pertinency while any of the great 
 
 18 207 
 
208 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 problems of our being remain unsolved. Through 
 all the ages which will fail to raise the covering of 
 mystery from those secrets, ^^the proper study of 
 mankind will be man.’’ 
 
 I. Let us direct a searching glance toward him, 
 physically, intellectually, and morally. 
 
 1. The physical man is the combination of all that 
 is exquisite in the animal structures of all the ages 
 of geology, and of all the existing tribes of our 
 globe — “it is the noblest material work ever con- 
 structed by the Divine Architect. Nor is this less 
 true of the purposes for which it was formed. Its 
 tenant is a spirit kindled by Jehovah’s breath, hav- 
 ing a domain of its own controlling interests, which 
 no thought can measure, and fed by the living fires 
 of the Eternal Spirit. Such an object we would 
 not adore like classic Greece, but would furnish it 
 a culture in harmony with its most delicate laws. 
 The dirge of monastic pietism, which crushes the 
 physical man, was the music of a departed age. 
 The starving and flagellation of the cell, based on 
 that paganism which pronounced matter an eternal 
 evil, have given place to a better philosophy, bap- 
 tized in a purer Christianity. It was not in clas- 
 sical Greek but in Gospel Greek that the body was 
 entitled the Infinite Spirit’s temple. To leave this 
 divine residence to dilapidate can not be innocent. 
 While the tie remains which binds the mind to the 
 body, ^^Mens sana in corpore sano'* will remain 
 true. Their reciprocal action is mighty and un- 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 209 
 
 ceasing. In such a body only can the spirit be 
 clear as the upper ether, and cheerful as the light 
 of morning. No law of health, then, can be vio- 
 lated without the infraction of a higher law. No 
 matter whether this violation is by muscular inac- 
 tion or by mental overaction, the penalty is never 
 slight or remote. 
 
 2. But in adverting to man intellectual, I 
 must beg you to ascend to a higher sphere of in- 
 quiry, and contemplate that which, in kind, is 
 alone in the universe. In this nature man’s kin- 
 dredship is not to animals, but to angels. His 
 mind is an actor ; it takes rank with the origina- 
 ting powers of the universe. It has the structure, 
 faculties, laws, and function all its own. By its 
 intuitions truth is seen as the sun is by the eye. 
 By its discursive powers truths are analyzed and 
 synthesized till its generalization pervades the whole 
 field of thought. 
 
 In his intellectual nature of a threefold classifica- 
 tion, there is a proportionately-small class endowed 
 with genius. This is called immortal, and makes 
 every thing so which it touches. Its glow intensi- 
 fies into a delirium, whose brilliancy enchants the 
 ages. In its infantile simplicity and supernatural 
 shoots of irregular power, it blends the baby and 
 the cherub. Its subject is an object of both pity 
 and envy. Genius has points of contrast with tal- 
 ent, Still of the master minds of the race are 
 these two illustrious categories— the one as bright 
 
210 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 in fancy as the other is deep in reason. Imagina- 
 tion and invention glow in the former, as conception 
 and comparison distinguish the latter. The flight 
 of genius is through the ideal realm, which it peo- 
 ples with the unfallen ; the task of reason is to ad- 
 just the stern realities which it finds in the tan- 
 gible universe. While invention is the boast of 
 genius, execution is the glory of talent. But con- 
 trast may give place to comhination — genius and 
 talent may blend — then the ethereal and the solid, 
 the inventive and the executive, the originator and 
 the cultivator, unite to form the representative, the 
 monumental mind. In such a mind the spirit of 
 the age is born, the central ideas of history are 
 originated. 
 
 But when these endowments exist apart, why is 
 greater nobility awarded to genius than to talent ? 
 Not because its wizard power summons into being 
 its new, stupendous creations, making its relation 
 higher to business life, but partly because it meets 
 the mystic demand of our nature, and partly be- 
 cause it is oftener combined with talent; that is, 
 genius oftener comprehends talent than it is com- 
 prehended by talent. Thus the former is oftener 
 prominent than the latter where they are found in 
 combination. But irrespective of all these distinct- 
 ives, intellect is stamped with a greatness which 
 sustains its relation between its nature and its des- 
 tiny. Still, this generic grandeur is never in con- 
 flict with specific variety. Of this a type is fur- 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 211 
 
 nished by the physical universe. Nature is not all 
 equal lines, smooth surfaces, or eternal plains; its 
 beautiful face is variegated by hill and dale, by 
 mountains and valleys, by land and ocean, by plan- 
 ets, suns, and stars. Nor is this a larger variety 
 than society furnishes in harmony with the variety 
 of the underlying intellect — minds unequal in power, 
 capacity, and taste — in intelligence, activity, and 
 energy. The mass of minimum intellect amuses it- 
 self with atoms — the maximum intellect sports with 
 worlds. The medium intellect occupies all the va- 
 rious space between. While the last buries him- 
 self in the furrow, where he communes with the 
 clods, the first weighs the worlds of light which he 
 surveys from the peaks of the globe. But the class 
 of Newtons who measure the comet’s flight, or of 
 the Franklins who steal the lightning from the 
 chambers of heaven, is small. Most minds are con- 
 tent to never burst away from the narrow inclos- 
 ures of common thought. To expect equality, 
 either in endowments or improvements, would be 
 Utopian as the wildest dream. Of such minds no 
 world was ever composed. 
 
 This intellectual variety is accompanied with a 
 corresponding dissimilarity through the whole do- 
 main of emotional nature. Hence, the positive and 
 negative belong no less to society than to electric- 
 ity — they relate to all earth’s categories, and open 
 the broadest channels for mutual culture and 
 bliss. 
 
212 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 3. But there is still a loftier conception of hu- 
 manity in man moral. 
 
 The very construction of the framework within 
 evinces the paramount greatness of our own moral 
 nature. It is on this spiritual side of his nature 
 that man stands nearest to his Maker. On this fac- 
 ulty the Divine image is most legibly impressed — 
 here the seal of Jehovah is least effaceable. The 
 functions assigned to this power are not to discrimi- 
 nate between profit and loss — between what is court- 
 eous and uncivil, or to act in the domain of aesthetics, 
 distinguishing the beautiful from the deformed — but 
 to discriminate between right and wrong — between 
 holiness and sin — and to operate impulsively in har- 
 mony with such perceptions. 
 
 This is the only endowment of the mind which 
 could not have been other than it is. As the moral 
 nature of Grod is the crowning perfection of all his 
 great attributes, equally conspicuous does that na- 
 ture shine amid human powers. This conclusion is 
 reached by the original construction of the mind it- 
 self no less than from an experience which claims 
 universality. The philosophy which inspires not 
 veneration for this loftiest faculty of our nature 
 must be falsely so called. It is true the horizon of 
 moral relations expands slowly before this unfolding 
 power, but hereafter that expansion will go on with 
 a sublime movement till the principle of conscience 
 shall become absolute and shall pervade the whole 
 man. Till this representative of God’s image shall 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 213 
 
 become installed over the world within — till it shall 
 acquire this sovereignty over the whole soul, it can 
 not be— as is intended — an image of Jehovah’s gov- 
 ernment over the universe. It is almost without a 
 figure that Q-od is called an almighty conscience, 
 and his government the omnipotence of right. With 
 fit allowance this is true of our own moral nature. 
 Its absolute despotism is the soul’s sublimest free- 
 dom. This power, whose seat is the bosom of God, 
 and under whose authority wpuld arise the harmony 
 of the universe, ought to have might as it has 
 right — it ought to have sovereignty in its sway as 
 it has elevation in its nature; then would the blaze 
 of millennial glory spontaneously burst forth, con- 
 signing to oblivion the moral ruins of the past. 
 Reason can prove a God, but only conscience can 
 see him, and in this vision a principle becomes 
 transformed into an affection — the principle of right 
 becomes identified with the emotion of right and 
 endows it with supreme ascendency. The simple 
 existence of this faculty proclaims a corresponding 
 quality in actions and character. The objections to 
 its universality prove the very thing which is re- 
 jected, It is alleged ^Hhat conscience must be the 
 changing creature of education, otherwise acts di- 
 rectly opposite could not be approved by it; as, for 
 instance, if conscience ,be a universal faculty, the 
 conscience of the pagan parent could not direct her 
 to murder her child, and that of a Christian mother 
 to cherish hers.” But is not the fallacy palpably in 
 
214 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 confounding the opposite modes of carrying out the 
 same design ? Both mothers designing the good of 
 their children, were directed to it by the same fac- 
 ulty in opposite modes. No delineation can here be 
 attempted of the functions of this faculty. We 
 know it acts prospectively, introspectively, and re- 
 trospectively — that it searches the future, present, 
 and past with an eye of fire — that, when guilty, it 
 can curtain with gloom the whole arch of heaven — 
 when innocent, it can kindle morning light in the 
 deepest midnight dungeon. 
 
 4. But in the galaxy of human powers I direct 
 attention to one more — the will — which is the cen- 
 tral energy of all the rest. This crowning power of 
 man distinguishes him from the whole mindless uni- 
 verse. A will in him is expressive of one in his 
 stupendous author. As without the Divine will 
 nothing had heen^ so without the human will noth- 
 ing could be done to moral purpose. In this sub- 
 lime faculty resides the man, the personality, the 
 doer of all that is achieved. Where this is not, 
 action can not be, character can not be, praise or 
 blame can not be, and all moral government were 
 an impossibility. This is the deep fountain of orig- 
 ination, the only source of what was not the fiat at 
 which every entity emerged from emptiness. The 
 will is more than the fulcrum of the soul. Itself 
 can act against the highest behests of God and the 
 mightiest motives within Infinite resources. The 
 will is so related to character as to shape destiny. 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 215 
 
 Without it all other faculties would be a stupendous 
 impertinency. This power has not unfitly been en- 
 titled the supernatural. Its sphere is beyond that 
 of cause and effect. It is related to all agencies, 
 * but controlled by none. It can act, but it can not 
 be acted upon. It demands a condition for its oper- 
 ation, but rejects all causes of it. The intellect 
 might be clear as the highest ether, the affections 
 warm as a mother’s love, the fancy rich as the rain- 
 bow’s beauties, but without the sovereignty of the 
 will the mass would be stagnant, as all other endow- 
 ments would be an utter waste of the most precious 
 material. 
 
 II. I now proceed to consider man social ^ or 
 humanity in its aggregate aspects. 
 
 The historian never ceases to be haunted by the 
 analogy which makes a nation a great organic per- 
 sonality — an ideal embodiment, endowed with indi- 
 vidual characteristics. In this aspect a peoples’ 
 soul is a great unit, composed of numberless in- 
 dividual souls — a stupendous public mind, made up 
 of numberless single minds. This complex person, 
 embodying many consciousnesses like the isolated 
 individual, has a character, a responsibility, and a 
 retribution. But these analogies fail when the ques- 
 tion of immortality arises. Before the individual 
 soul a destiny stretches out endless as the eternal 
 years of ^ God, while the destiny of the national 
 soul pervades but a few ages. This has its retri- 
 bution within the circle of the sun, that often the 
 
 19 
 
216 
 
 LECTURES ANL ADDRESSES. 
 
 dead are raised and the livi. ig are changed. When 
 we demand, Where is the nation that has endured 
 the test of its responsibilities ? echo answers, Where ? 
 Was it Babylon, that center of a great empire? It 
 has sunk like a millstone in the ocean. Was it * 
 Jerusalem, in which God’s great Son sojourned? 
 Not one stone is left upon another. Was it 
 
 Borne, the world’s mistress? A thousand years 
 have wheeled over its great sepulcher. Nor is 
 there a nation on the globe which has not since 
 been vanquished by some lordly conqueror. The 
 national longevity has its exact measure in the 
 national character. History, which is the book of 
 judgment, points to the tomb of nations to which, ^ 
 as to their gehenna, their sins have doomed them. 
 While individual offenders survive forever, the night 
 of the grave is the national oblivion. Many a vir- 
 tuous citizen, guiltless of national offense, shares in 
 the public infliction, and is compensated at the res- 
 urrection of the just. Our organic national person- 
 ality has a mind to think, a heart to feel, a will to 
 execute. If that intellect be wise, that heart pure, 
 and that will strong for the right, then will the 
 glad eureka peal through the ages, proclaiming the 
 thrilling solution of the problem of history in the 
 consummation of national hope. 
 
 To secure the intelligence of man social, four 
 great agencies have been put in requisition — the 
 school, the press, the post, and the pulpit The 
 three closely-connected branches into which the 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 217 
 
 school should be regarded are, the primary, the 
 academic, and the collegiate. The plea for nature 
 in preference to art ignores the fact that education 
 is nature in her progressive advances. Separate 
 the one from the other, and at what point would 
 you sunder them? In the very cradle education 
 commences its molding process. Both the mental 
 and social constitution make this process utterly 
 inseparable from existence. The real inquiry, then, 
 is not whether a human being shall be educated — 
 this he must be — but whether he shall be improved 
 or perverted by his education. It is either to cramp, 
 distort, or develop his powers. Its high aim is to 
 ascertain and employ the means fitted to the ends 
 of life. That this is best accomplished by com- 
 petent instructors, is suggested by all the analogies 
 of nature and religion. It is by a never-changing 
 law of mind that self-improvement advances in exact 
 ratio as the means are appropriate, and as attention 
 is intense. 
 
 The exceptions to this are only apparent, not 
 real. When connected thought seems to have the 
 spontaneity of instinct to rush through the mind 
 like lightning through the heavens, it is only after 
 patience and depth of thought have been the soul’s 
 habit. No untrained mind can be conformed to 
 unperverted nature. To be without a correct edu- 
 cation, is to be misguided by a perverting one, 
 which creates the demand for reconstruction. It 
 is impossible to mistake the voice of history which. 
 
218 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 in harmony with the science of mind, represents 
 the highest advance of human powers as resulting 
 from the best use of the best educational instru- 
 ments. 
 
 We institute no invidious comparisons between 
 the three educational institutions. Commencing 
 with the primary, and advancing toward the uni- 
 versity, we find each is indispensable to the other. 
 Who can doubt whether the primary school alone 
 would dwarf the average intellect? Do you de- 
 mand, then, how its alumnus often overtowers him 
 of the university? We answer, categorically, be- 
 cause he bathes more frequently than the college 
 graduate in the bright atmosphere made luminous 
 by that highest class of institutions. Childhood, 
 refiecting the sweet beams of life's morning, is in- 
 tensely lovely, but comparatively worthless if cut 
 off from manhood. Thus the connection is vital 
 between the lowest and highest educational depart- 
 ments. The one is a prerequisite to the other, but 
 can never be its substitute. The same wisdom that 
 builds the school-house will advance to erect the 
 college, as it well knows that common intelligence 
 could not long survive the absence of higher learn- 
 ing. This conclusion is sustained by the verdict of 
 man. As no civilized portion of the race, ancient 
 or modern, has restricted itself to a single grade of 
 institutions, how can a democracy do it? It must 
 have brain to surmise and the school to exercise 
 that organ. 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 219 
 
 By what, language shall we portray that wisdom 
 which has bidden us to burn our libraries, break 
 down our presses, demolish our school-houses, stop 
 our post, and arrest the lightning of heaven on 
 whose wings we send our messages ? Such as 
 would send us back to the unmingled light of 
 nature, and to the sweet simplicity of barbarism, 
 have yet to learn the first principles of life’s lofty 
 aim: they have to vanquish that self-delusion which 
 facts and principles can put to flight; they have to 
 learn that three-fourths of all our criminals are 
 from the one-fourth of the least educated; that 
 when, under stringent law, more crimes are pun- 
 ished, it is not because more crimes are committed, 
 but because more are detected. A thousand facts 
 conspire to assure us that truth is the appointed 
 instrument of social elevation; that knowledge is 
 the native element in which truth flourishes; and 
 that instruction is the ethereal element on which it 
 thrives. 
 
 Another agency with which man-republiG can not 
 afford to part is the pulpit. The fact that this 
 agency borders on the supernatural argues not its 
 slightest unfitness to social purposes. If it be God’s 
 great instrumentality, it is man’s supreme conserva- 
 tor. It shall stand while the world endures. What 
 is its message but the great redemption? what its 
 mission but the regeneration of the race? Who is 
 its incumbent but God’s anointed herald? but Jeho- 
 vah’s own mouthpiece? It encounters stupendous 
 
220 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 antagonisms embodied in the vices of centurieS; and 
 in the ravings of the pit. Its range is through all 
 the ages of time and all the nations of the race. 
 Its lesson is man's immortality, its work his prepar- 
 ation for the grave. Its history will disclose a scene 
 of subjective wonders defiant of a parallel — one that 
 shall awaken both songs and shrieks. Of man so- 
 cial the pulpit is the abiding friend; it vindicates 
 his inherent rights; it enjoins his public duties; it 
 moves him to the vigorous achievement of them. 
 Let it then sink deep into our convictions that the 
 pulpit should appropriate the philosophy, the civil- 
 ization, and the spirit of the age, and herself be- 
 come the public conscience. 
 
 At the bidding of no prince or people can its 
 voice sink to silence. No matter by what lips it is 
 uttered, that voice is portentous which proclaims 
 religion has no concern with politics. This is ever 
 a premonition that villainy is on foot. Who is 
 thus at war with conscience can advance but one 
 more daring step, and say to the Omniscient eye, 
 shuty Great wrongs can not be subverted, and 
 great rights vindicated, but by the pulpit. This 
 must be the impersonation of the world s conscience. 
 
 To man social the agency of the peess is next in 
 power to that of the pulpit. It has in four centu- 
 ries filled more libraries with the world’s standard 
 intellectual wealth than all the millionaires of man’s 
 previous history had done. The library is the con- 
 tents of the world’s knowledge ; the prodigious 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 221 
 
 memory of the race. This, like the coral island, is 
 ever expanding. The press swells the stupendous 
 pile by depositing in it such mental gems as oblivion 
 had previously engulfed. To that mighty devourer 
 the press efficaciously says, Thus far and no fur- 
 ther.’' The press is yet to gather much from the 
 ravages of the past — much that is rich in ancient 
 lands, the offspring of departed generations, and de- 
 posit it here. In another sphere this great agency 
 sends out its living swarms; some honey-bearing, 
 some venomous — all born to die. But these in their 
 flight, from the daily to the quarterly, glitter with 
 intelligence which reaches the meanest cottage. 
 Through them oratory utters its sparkling words, 
 poetry weaves its magic spells, romance fabricates 
 its ideal realms, history records its deep lessons. 
 Nor do they fail to exhibit the four symbols of nat- 
 ural science — the telescope, the crucible, the dia- 
 gram, and the pickax. This influence, transient as 
 it seems, has an aggregate result in swelling the 
 precious material in thought's immortal repository. 
 
 But while the press is the great conservator of 
 thought, the post is its sleepless propagator. While 
 that preserves books which sweep the whole horizon 
 of learning — books which are the great voices of 
 time — this propagates the living echoes of those 
 voices. While the mail does this through the daily, 
 weekly, monthly, and quarterly, so as to permeate 
 the whole public organism, the net-work of the elec- 
 tric wires has woven its lightning texture over con- 
 
222 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 tinents, sending the same thought in a single hour 
 from ocean to ocean, thrilling at once every fiber of 
 the great public heart. 
 
 Finally, we can only glance at man national in 
 regard to his authority and corresponding duty. 
 Wielding as does this nation these elevating agen- 
 cies, how lofty must be its responsibility ! The very 
 structure of the individual's mind proves self-eleva- 
 tion to be its Creator’s purpose. That self-control 
 is a nation’s duty is equally clear from the social 
 constitution. The powers of every legitimate gov- 
 ernment are ordained of God. Though the Bible 
 no where prescribes the decisive test of what legiti- 
 mately constitutes these ordained powers, wherever 
 such government exists it demands implicit obe- 
 dience to it as to God’s requirement. Kebellion 
 against it is, therefore, political and moral treason. 
 The individual’s rights are protected and his dis- 
 putes arbitrated by the magistrate. But the nation 
 being without such a guardianship must be self-pro- 
 tective. By its governmental power it must secure 
 domestic order and international justice. The sword 
 of the magistrate must maintain the one, and the 
 sword of the warrior the other. The governmental 
 army sustains the same relation to a revolutionary 
 province and to a foreign aggression as the execu- 
 tive magistracy to the individual offenders. While 
 the sword of either should never be unsheathed only 
 at the call of justice, it should never return to its 
 scabbard till rebellion be crushed. The duty of this 
 
MAN INDIVIDUAL — MAN SOCIAL. 
 
 223 
 
 is commensurate with the crime of rebellion. The 
 duty of lawful self-protection, under the Divine 
 civil institution, is invested with the same authority 
 as every other Divine claim. The failure of govern- 
 ment to employ every energy to its utmost extent, 
 to accomplish this, is not merely despicable in the 
 eye of history, but guilty before high heaven. We 
 can not ignore the application of this principle to 
 the terrific outbreak in this Depublic. What a page 
 shall be written in the history of this century when 
 the historian shall record the secret plots of the 
 slave-power against the noblest Government on 
 which the sun has shone. Advancing in its daring 
 rapacity, its demands became more haughty till the 
 long- controlled Government broke from its grasp. 
 In that hour its plans of treason burst into execu- 
 tion to shatter the Union and rend the Constitution. 
 That agency, wielding the great powers of govern- 
 ment, made it subservient to that stupendous crime. 
 Not for one moment can we doubt whether this be 
 a revolt against the Divine scheme for the world’s 
 advance in Christian civilization — whether it be 
 both an impious defiance against God’s providence, 
 and a huge crime against universal humanity. Is 
 it not as utterly void of moral justification as of 
 constitutional validity? Is it not the solemn duty 
 of this Christian Government to blot out from under 
 these heavens an institution which thirsts for frater- 
 nal blood, and pants to quench the highest hopes of 
 humanity — an institution which can not survive 
 
224 
 
 LEGTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 another age without rekindling the dreadful flame 
 of civil war, and mantling these bright realms with 
 its midnight horrors? 
 
 And now, young gentlemen, allow me to commend 
 to you those high attainments which will harmonize 
 your own great forces with themselves, with society, 
 and with the universe. Then will you decline no 
 duty, shrink from no responsibility, withhold no 
 sacrifice, be allured by no flattery, and deterred by 
 no obstacle. The beautiful, the true, and the good, 
 blending in a higher than Platonic luster, shall be 
 the Christian trio, each preventing the distortion of 
 the other, and all blending in symmetrical character. 
 Then will an iron vigor of purpose, a divine sweet- 
 ness of heart, an immaculate purity of conscience 
 secure the highest ends of both lives, and rapidly 
 mature those germinant virtues which will prove 
 the Christian to be the highest style of man. 
 
X. 
 
 ON THE USE AND IMPORTANCE OF MENTAL 
 CULTURE: 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE STUDENTS OF THE GARRETT 
 BIBLICAL INSTITUTE. 
 
 Young Gentlemen, — I owe it to you to be un- 
 disguised in the few utterances I shall make on 
 your mental culture. You will not expect me to 
 entertain you with glowing pictures of the ethe- 
 real powers you have inherited,” or ^^of the peerless 
 hights to which they may raise you,” or of the 
 grandeur of those achievements by which you may 
 exceed all priority. For less amusing and more 
 substantial purposes I engage in this brief discus- 
 sion. My aim will be to glance at the method and 
 importance of self-knowledge ^ especially in the in- 
 tellectual sphere, 
 
 ^^Know thyself” was a comprehensive precept of 
 ancient wisdom; it has been virtually inculcated by 
 both Eastern and Western philosophy — by profane 
 and sacred instruction. The most highly gifted and 
 cultivated of the race have regarded the human 
 
 mind the measure of all things lying within the 
 
 225 
 
226 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 human sphere. An acquaintance with that, there- 
 fore, is indispensable to a knowledge of these. But 
 a correct acquaintance with himself at the begin- 
 ning of his course would be no less difficult to the 
 student than it would be important to his success. 
 As this comprehensive, accurate self-knowledge is 
 never inherited, but is ever attainable, the student 
 begins by either underrating or overrating himself. 
 
 Some of the results with which an overestimate 
 is pregnant are indocilityj generated by this too 
 favorable self-estimate — the concealment of defects — 
 consequent relaxation of efforts to advance — felt in- 
 dignation at the exposure of defects. In this state 
 failure ensues ; disappointment laughs at hope’s 
 career,” as the student attempted what was be- 
 yond his ability. Nor is intellectual advancement 
 less certainly impeded by the opposite extreme. It 
 will be a bar to those attempts at the practicable 
 which are indispensable to the march of intellect; 
 it will prevent that vigor of purpose which is pro- 
 moted by the confidence that difficulties lessen 
 as we approach them, and vanish when we reso- 
 lutely assail them. These erring judgments are in- 
 evitable till corrected by comparison with a true 
 standard, and such a comparison is a work of time 
 and caution, and derives importance from its rela- 
 tion to self-discipline, and to preparation for future 
 engagements. There is one necessity devolving on 
 the student, beyond the mere inception of his course, 
 indispensable to his ultimate success; it is the selec- 
 
MENTAL CULTURE. 
 
 227 
 
 tion of the literary and scientific objects of his 
 pursuit. The narrowness of human powers, and 
 the brevity of their assigned period for improve- 
 ment, demand this. This selection is wisely made 
 when it looks, primarily, to the invigorating of the 
 faculties; and, secondarily, to future engagements. 
 Thus the basis of the superstructure will be formed 
 of the right material, and will be broad and per- 
 manent; not that this strenuous training of the 
 faculties can be utterly apart from the acquirement 
 of thought with which they are ultimately to be 
 replenished. 
 
 That, however, is to be the prominent aim, and 
 this the incidental result. Because the tie by which 
 the one is drawn after the other is occult, it is not 
 unreal; the mightiest forces in nature are buried 
 in concealment, and operate unseen. When w^ere 
 vigor of purpose, accuracy of discrimination, and 
 conclusiveness of reasoning not preceded by thor- 
 oughly elaborating discipline? Those no less di- 
 rectly look back to this than this looked forward 
 to those. The indirectness of the bearings of this 
 discipline on a future profession can be no disproof 
 of its importance. Metaphysics and the exact sci- 
 ences may seem to be as little related to either of 
 the learned professions as the romping of childhood 
 and the sports of youth are to a robust manhood; 
 but the distance of time at which these rise up into 
 full effect, can never minify their importance or 
 sunder their causal relations. As soon may you 
 
228 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 disrupt the chain of nature as prevent the rich- 
 ness of the remuneration being proportionate to the 
 thoroughness of the discipline. 
 
 What, then, are some of the means of attaining 
 this discipline ? One of these with which we can 
 never dispense is unremitting attention. Attention 
 is the power by which one steadily follows out the 
 same train of thought. Its strength is measured 
 by the extent to which this is continued. This 
 intellectual effort, which is painful at the outset, 
 becomes facile by continuance. When the will by 
 an arduous exertion first attempts undivided appli- 
 cation, the mind is continually perplexed by the 
 glimmer of intrusive and distracting thoughts, 
 which precludes the desired object from being 
 placed in the full clearness of undivided light. 
 This occurs only when the new object becomes 
 fused into an integral part of the system of our 
 previous knowledge, and of our established asso- 
 ciations of thoughts and desires. 
 
 This involves habit, whose incipiency is by com- 
 pulsion, but whose every successive step is taken 
 with greater ease. Thus the whole system of 
 thought harmonizes with our pursuit, and the 
 whole mind lives only in the trains of thought 
 to which it has devoted its energies. Then that 
 pleasure which is the reflex of unforced and un- 
 impeded energy attends the most vigorous thought. 
 In this state the mind stamps excellencies on all 
 its processes. The most complicated demonstrations 
 
MENTAL CULTURE. 
 
 229 
 
 made by the master minds of La Place and La 
 Grange are all made up of immediate inferences, 
 the first of which may be grasped by the feeblest 
 intellect. No greater exertion of the intellect is 
 requisite to make a thousand such efforts than to 
 make one. 
 
 The Newtonian mind can connect inferences 
 through the whole series to the determinate end; 
 the common mind makes the successive inferences, 
 but soon falters and lets fall the thread in the be- 
 ginning or midway of the series. It was to this 
 patient attention that Sir Isaac referred his discov- 
 eries. If Plato's account of Socrates be reliable, 
 this father of Greek philosophy was peerless in the 
 power of attention. ^^This philosopher was seen by 
 the Athenian army to stand for a whole day and 
 night, till the break of the second morning, mo- 
 tionless, and with a fixed gaze, showing that he 
 was uninterruptedly engrossed with the considera- 
 tion of a single subject;" and it is added that 
 ^Uhus Socrates was wont to do when his mind was 
 occupied with inquiries in which there were diffi- 
 culties to be overcome." ^^He would then forget 
 to eat, and drink, and sleep .... till he 
 had seen some light on the subject." Whatever 
 exaggeration there may be in this narrative, there 
 is truth in the principle, Descartes, like Newton, 
 arrogated nothing ^Go the superiority of his intel- 
 lect, but attributed all in which he excelled to the 
 superiority of his method." 
 
230 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 With great force Helvetius has defined genius as 
 being the power of continued attention; and in 
 this the most eminent authorities accord. Thus, 
 self-abstraction from the inversion of surrounding 
 objects is the condition of mental power. This fac- 
 ulty has been manifest in all whose names have 
 been associated with the progress of intellectual 
 science. Hamilton quotes more than a half a dozen 
 who in this power of abstract attention were little 
 less distinguished than Socrates. It is fitly said 
 that ^Hhe Attention of the intellect is a natural 
 prayer by which vre obtain the enlightenment of 
 reason.” 
 
 But this power of fastening attention on a chosen 
 train of thought is weak just as the pupil tolerates 
 in himself the habit of languor or of intermitted 
 application. This makes the effort of persistent at- 
 tention more difficult to-morrow than to-day. The 
 labor of acquiring this habit is painful as external 
 circumstances are unpropitious ; it is facile as in- 
 ward tranquillity and surrounding silence are deep. 
 Let the student, therefore, exclude disturbing causes 
 till he has acquired the command of his attention, 
 and then let him resolutely brave such causes. 
 This mastery of attention will enable you to ob- 
 serve another rule in this progressive discipline. I 
 allude to the thoroughness of investigation. To 
 abandon a subject till clear and precise ideas on it 
 are acquired, is fatally to obstruct the course of 
 discipline. What can be more fatal to all progress 
 
MENTAL CULTUEE. 
 
 231 
 
 than to assume one knows that of which he is only 
 beginning to perceive his ignorance? What can be 
 more indispensable to discipline than clearness of 
 perception of that which in itself is clear? By this 
 alone can a complex subject be so disentangled that 
 by the analytic process each part can be taken 
 from the others and laid in its own place, till all 
 are considered seriatim — then will the maxim be 
 found just, Divide and conquer.” By dismiss- 
 ing a subject without having fully scanned it, the 
 student not merely remains ignorant of what he 
 had attempted to learn, but has strengthened his 
 tendency to rest in vague conceptions of all other 
 subjects. ^ 
 
 Another canon kindred to this is peecision of 
 TEEMS. All in the least habituated to investiga- 
 tion must be aware that the processes of thought 
 are by the employment of language. Though 
 thought may commence without terms, it can not 
 proceed without them. The looseness of language, 
 therefore, involves the vagueness of thought. To 
 suppose one understands a subject because he is fa- 
 miliar with some general terms in which it is often 
 stated — though he has never attached one definite 
 idea to those terms — is a most common and fatal 
 delusion. Loose language may conceal profound 
 ignorance, but can do nothing toward dissipating 
 that ignorance. We may ever be sure of the exact 
 correspondence between the character of language 
 
 and the character of thought. To achieve, there- 
 
 20 
 
232 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 fore, the mastery of this great instrument of 
 thought, deserves the student’s highest aspiration. 
 Words are plenty enough, and often flow most 
 readily from the shallowest brain. We speak, 
 therefore, not of the number of words, nor of the 
 fluency in uttering them, but of their exact fit- 
 ness — words that express not too much or too 
 little — words which could give place to no others 
 without the loss of precision — words that in the 
 same connection have no exact synonyms. ' 
 
 While the study of philosophy is the discipline 
 of the intellect, the study of philology is the indis- 
 pensable preparative. Thus, in translating thought 
 from one language into another, the mind learns to 
 detect the exact import of the two classes of corre- 
 sponding terms; so that no branch of study con- 
 tributes so directly to the wealth and precision of 
 style as translating the classics. 
 
 Nor is the habit of accurately discriminating be- 
 tween true and false reasoning unimportant to 
 mental discipline. The three directions just given 
 are indispensable preparatives to the facile observ- 
 ance of this canon. The unremitting attention to 
 a train of thought till its utmost contents are ap- 
 prehended — the precision of thought which secures 
 a sifting analysis, and the exactness of language 
 corresponding to such thought, prepare the mind 
 for a rigid logic. It requires not the profoundest 
 art to so commingle the sound with the fallacious, 
 as to conceal the sophistry from the unpracticed 
 
MENTAL CULTURE. 
 
 233 
 
 eye. While the analytic habit of the student’s 
 mind is his security against the sophist, it is his 
 only indemnity against the errors of his own con- 
 clusions. Nor could he long indulge in inventing 
 plausible arguments for the support of error, with- 
 out so warping his own faculties as to connect 
 doubt with all truth. This self-perversion is the 
 penalty of voluntary misapplication. It issues not 
 in mental discipline, but in mental unhingement. 
 Of this many of the acute disputants of the seven- 
 teenth century are painful illustrations. But by 
 cultivating the discriminating faculty the earnest 
 student will judge of arguments not by their num- 
 ber, but by their weight — he will yield his convic- 
 tions to them not as they are plausible, but as their 
 steps are consecutive — as every link is seen to draw 
 after it the other in the chain. 
 
 It is no less palpable that the false element in 
 argument cancels the true, than that the negative 
 quantity in the solution of an algebraic problem 
 cancels, to its own full amount, the positive. The 
 habit of thorough investigation can alone enable 
 you to avoid this error and detect it in others. 
 
 The primary signification of the word investi- 
 gate — to follow an object by the traces it has left 
 in its road to its unknown place — this primary 
 meaning is expressive of the caution and persist- 
 ency demanded for success. The point at which 
 one starts is known — the point he would reach is 
 unknown. The distance dividing them can be free 
 
234 
 
 LEGXaEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 from peril only as it is traversed by the rule of 
 logical cause and consequence. Any departure from 
 this rule would sunder the everlasting connection 
 of thought. If you supply by mere conjecture a 
 single link in this eternal chain, you thereby blend 
 uncertainty with every possible conclusion, no mat- 
 ter how rem6te from your conclusion or how prox- 
 imate to it your premises may lie. It would be a 
 grievous delusion to suppose that the habit of dart- 
 ing the mind’s eye along every link of the argu- 
 mentative chain is required only by mathematics or 
 metaphysics; there is no department of knowledge 
 by which it is not demanded. 
 
 On all possible subjects thoughts are related. To 
 make one thought solitary or isolated, would require 
 the change of every mental law. Such thought, 
 therefore, belongs not to a single mind in the uni- 
 verse. These connections of thought are, therefore, 
 not to be originated^ but are to be discovered by 
 you. This is not the beautiful creation of genius, 
 but existed prior to created mind. Though the 
 connections of thought lie often below the surface, 
 they are never out of the subject. The ready per- 
 ception of these relations is essential to the power 
 of high and rapid generalization. Among the ad- 
 vantages of this mental habit is that of meek but 
 manly independence. Then the judgment is swayed 
 not by authority, but by evidence; not by opinion, 
 but by conviction. Then that is embraced as truth, 
 not because its votaries are numerous or its advo- 
 
MENTAL CULTURE. 
 
 235 
 
 cates are powerful, but because its evidence is in- 
 vincible. In prosecuting this course of discipline, 
 the question has doubtless pressed itself upon you, 
 ^^What is the point beyond which you should appeal 
 for aid to minds of higher culture than your own?” 
 The point at which you should go out of yourself 
 for help is not where you first meet with difficulty, 
 but where you find that difficulty insurmountable. 
 Where your utmost exertions are inadequate to 
 reach an unattained hight, there help is appro- 
 priate. The system under which we exist has so 
 related society that those of larger experience shed 
 their superior light on the younger, and those of 
 higher development vanquish the ignorance of the 
 untaught. All our educational institutions recog- 
 nize the principle of instruction to whose applica- 
 tion to man God himself has condescended. Indo- 
 lence alone will rely on that assistance which super- 
 sedes one’s own exertion. This is both degrading 
 and enfeebling, and will place its subject at a hope- 
 less distance from scholarship. In concluding this 
 discussion, I will merely recall to your attention its 
 subordinate topics. 
 
 The first requisition made by mental discipline is 
 self-knowledge. Though self is the nearest of ob- 
 jects to us, it is the last to command attention. 
 Still, this subjective acquaintance is indispensable to 
 the right adjustment of the mind to the objective 
 sphere. When one has thus measured himself, 
 fathoming his own powers, he must concentrate 
 
236 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 them, pouring the whole stream of thought on the 
 object he investigates. The facility with which this 
 undivided attention is commanded will be gradu- 
 ated by the vigor of purpose to attain it, and the 
 extent to which it is attained will be the measure 
 of that precision of thought with which the mental 
 processes will proceed, and those heterogeneous ele- 
 ments will be excluded which will otherwise vitiate 
 the highest attempts at generalization. 
 
 Kindred to this precision of thought is accuracy 
 of language. Such is their relation that each 
 alternately depends on the other. As language 
 is chiefly the instrument of thought, the accuracy 
 of one will measure the precision of the other. 
 These distinctives having become the habits of the 
 student, he will readily determine at what point he 
 should seek aid from minds of higher development; 
 that, so far as instruction supersedes his own labor, 
 it is an obstacle and not a facility to his progress. 
 The bestowment of the richest blessings of heaven 
 and earth is suspended on labor, and the mind is 
 constructed to obtain its best treasure — discipline — 
 on the same principle, by the dint of labor. 
 
XI. 
 
 A CHARGE TO REV. DR. FOSTER: 
 
 DELIVERED AT HIS INAUGURATION AS PRESIDENT OP 
 THE NORTH-WESTERN UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Reverend Brother, — May I be permitted, in 
 the name of the Trustees, to communicate to you 
 their conceptions of your duties arising from the 
 relations you have just assumed to the University? 
 
 This charge upon which you have now entered is 
 a most solemn trust; the magnitude of the duties 
 it imposes on you is commensurate with your utmost 
 capability. You know that no science has been more 
 deeply studied than education. To educate is to un- 
 fold the principle of thought which is forever after 
 to be self-propagative. It is to discipline the will — 
 that executive force, that central principle of char- 
 acter; it is to elicit and direct the social and moral 
 sensibilities of man’s spiritual nature. The assiduity 
 and skill demanded for success can be appreciated 
 only in the light of this great fact, that your agency 
 is only one element of a hundred which acts a part 
 in the pupil’s education. In spite of the best 
 scholastic system for mental discipline, spontaneous 
 
238 
 
 LECTUEES AKI) ADDRESSES. 
 
 development will predominate. Your voice is only 
 one of many wliicli address him ; your most striking 
 thoughts can not directly monopolize his attention. 
 Not only are domestic government, State legisla- 
 tion, early associates the young man’s educators, 
 but every physical feature of the place he inhab- 
 its, every step in the processes of voiceless nature 
 around him, every inward association and outward 
 correspondence, are his educators. 
 
 These numberless agents of measureless power 
 you can not neutralize^ but you can subsidize. They 
 may be permeated by the scholar’s spirit and laid 
 under large contribution to his single aim. He 
 may, like the chemist, bring into harmonious rela- 
 tions the heterogeneous substances of nature, and 
 make the conflicting influences of life’s experiences 
 strongly combine to advance scholastic discipline. 
 In so reconstructing the student’s mental habit that 
 he may seize on the general in the particular — that 
 he may judge of individual influences in the broader 
 light of consecutive thought, you remove from him 
 a mental perversity which would be a wall of ada- 
 mant to his progress, and secure to yourself a di- 
 recting power over him which shall influence all his 
 other influences. It is in this indirect manner only 
 that the teacher can transfer himself to his pupil 
 without, to the slightest extent, impairing his pupil’s 
 identity, 
 
 I know that you can not be more fully aware 
 than you are that the subject on which you are to 
 
A CHAEGE TO EEV. DE. FOSTEE. 
 
 239 
 
 act is an agent — that it is mind, not nature — spirit, 
 not matter. That you are, therefore, to govern it, 
 not as God does the globes of the universe, but as he 
 does his worshipers that people them. Still with 
 this distinction, clear as light, between force and 
 motives, how rarely does it suggest the most effi- 
 cient class of motives ! There is not in the universe 
 a single agent invested with self-directing power; 
 and, no matter how weak, he spurns with all the 
 self-importance of Hampden the tyranny which re- 
 fuses to recognize it. The educator who employs 
 authority instead of allurement, who can not govern 
 mind by making it feel that it governs itself, throws 
 his charge on the defensive, and creates a resist- 
 ance which would be unmatched by a thousand 
 times his power. But control of mind loses none 
 of its importance by the necessity of its mdirect- 
 ness. This increases the demand on the skill of the 
 operator. 
 
 The responsibility of your position has its meas- 
 ure in the minds you shall skillfully form, and in 
 all the ages they shall improvingly influence. The 
 few thousands who are personally to feel your 
 agency make not the circumference of that agency. 
 It will,, stream, like morning light, along every tie 
 of society and every ligament that shall bind ages 
 together. Till the numbers shall be computed which 
 shall be influenced by those on whom you act — till 
 the centuries shall be counted which are within the 
 
 grasp of man’s history, the aggregate of your agency 
 
 21 
 
240 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 can not be measured. Indeed, the importance of an 
 agent’s position must be measured rather by the 
 kind and degree of his influence than by the extent 
 of surface it pervades. Great thoughts, like great 
 thinkers, are cogent as they are rare. They can 
 never sleep or stagnate. Unlike other forces their 
 intensity accumulates as their surface expands. One 
 great idea which you shall lodge in some prolific 
 mind may work on and on till it shall sweep aside 
 whole systems of error, and give character to the 
 age. In tracing the history of such thoughts we 
 find their birthplace at the highest seats of learn- 
 ing. There are grouped in bright clusters disci- 
 plined minds, whose action on each other is with 
 a cogency transcending the power of all visible 
 agencies. 
 
 May I also remind you that your present post 
 derives special importance from its central position. 
 Here you are in the midst of these ocean-like prai- 
 ries, whose boundless bloom predicts and symbolizes 
 their social greatness. No earthly agency can pre- 
 vent their becoming the crowded residence of wealth, 
 intelligence, and refinement, where society will de- 
 velop itself in its highest style — in its noblest type — - 
 where the representatives of twenty distant nations, 
 melted and molded by American mind into one 
 homogeneous community, will be susceptible of 
 higher polish than ever adorned the paragons of 
 Greece. Here, then, you need not wait for a dis- 
 tant generation to create a demand for a high order 
 
A CHARGE TO REV. DR. FOSTER. 
 
 241 
 
 of educators. Such a demand is the offspring of 
 that opulence and leisure which will soon be com- 
 manded by large classes in this great mysterious 
 West. Much that has been the growth of a thou- 
 sand years in the Old World, will, in the midst of 
 this dramatic scene, be the product of a single age. 
 Though we look not for the infant to reach manhood 
 in a day, or Nature to become breathless in her 
 efforts to keep up with man, we do look for social 
 developments peerless in their rapidity as they are 
 vast in their scale. An age that can transport our 
 persons five hundred miles in a day, and our 
 thoughts over the globe swifter than the sound of 
 the angels trumpet can traverse it — such an age 
 looks back in vain for a parallel in the past, and 
 forward with confidence for higher achievements in 
 the future. This great receptacle of life, able to 
 feed one-third of all earth’s nations, has — beyond 
 any other realm — felt the quickening impulse of 
 these new-born agencies. 
 
 Amid these strange combinations of time, and 
 place, and forces, you are called to a central 
 agency — to act a momentous part — to prepare an 
 agency which will multiply yourself into a number 
 equal to many of the posts to be supplied in all the 
 learned professions. Hence the Board have left 
 large scope in the system of this University, to 
 bring its operations into conformity to the varying 
 demands which shall arise. They have wisely re- 
 frained from casting it into that iron mold by which 
 
242 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 a European university is placed beyond the power 
 of change, in the midst of the growing demands of 
 modern ages. Indeed, we have never had in the 
 New World a university in the European sense of 
 that word. Our college system is exceedingly un- 
 like the university systems of England, Scotland, 
 and Germany. Many never enter these universi- 
 ties till they have passed through a more thorough 
 course — in such schools as those at Westminster 
 and Winchester — than our whole system, prepara- 
 tory, collegiate, and professional, requires. The uni- 
 versities of Scotland are great professional schools ; 
 they have not unfrequently been honored by brill- 
 iant discoveries. The lectures of their accom- 
 plished professors have extended the boundaries of 
 scientific truth. Those of Germany are still more 
 unlike our collegiate system. This will scarcely 
 bear a favorable comparison to the German Gym- 
 nasia. From the complete classical training of 
 these high schools the well-drilled student passes to 
 the university to master some special department, 
 aided by rich libraries and eminent lecturers. 
 Our pilgrim fathers aimed at imitating these great 
 institutions of the Old World, only under marked 
 modifi-cations. In attempting to combine the clas- 
 sics of Oxford with the mathematics of Cambridge, 
 they not only abandoned every monastic feature of 
 both, but retained only the strictly-disciplinary part 
 of either. They aimed only at the realization of 
 that central idea of a public education; namely, a 
 
A CHAEGE TO EEV. DE. FOSTEE. 
 
 243 
 
 systematical development of man’s faculties whicli 
 best adapts him to the utmost activities of life, and 
 fits him for life’s dose. To this great idea their 
 successors have ever clung with exhaustless te- 
 nacity. 
 
 The system, then, according to which you are 
 expected to administer, is a wise eeleetieism^ free 
 born as the millions it is appointed to bless — op- 
 pressed neither by the bondage of the Church or 
 the despotism of the State. This susceptibility of 
 improving change is scarcely dispensable in human 
 society, which is constructed to be ever exceeding 
 its former self. It can never be parted with on 
 this new theater of social development. Here, 
 where the race is commencing its history anew, all 
 institutions must be constructed for correspondent 
 modification. We derive this conclusion alike from 
 the reason of the thing and from the practical wis- 
 dom of the past. 
 
 The two oldest institutions on our continent are 
 no more now what they were in their incipiency, 
 than the infant of yesterday is the man of fifty. 
 Had not this elasticity of their constitution ad- 
 mitted of this indefinite progress^ the advances of 
 society would have been the oblivion of Cambridge 
 and Yale. But the age and place show this state- 
 ment to be many times more forcible in its appli- 
 cation to this University. Were the physical or 
 intellectual universe wanting adaptation to its ends, 
 this unfitness would impugn the wisdom of its Au- 
 
244 
 
 LECTUEE3 AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 thor — all pretension to perfection would vanish. 
 All the cardinal social differences between the two 
 continents should be recognized in their two educa- 
 tional systems. Ours has evinced its cogency in 
 the admirable character of its fruit. Our statesmen, 
 diplomatists, jurists, barristers, physicians, theolo- 
 gians, and other literati^ have excelled in almost 
 every arena of intellectual exertion. 
 
 This institution, whose destiny is now placed in 
 your hands, must, at present, occupy a middle posi- 
 tion between a preparatory seminary and a profes- 
 sional school. It must now open its doors alike to 
 prepared youth from the princely mansion and 
 from the frontier cabin. It must now and ever be 
 in communion with the living, acting world. 
 
 But its guardians look to your skill and energy 
 for the elevation of its position to correspond with 
 the rising educational demands of the West. They 
 hope to admit to its halls, before ages shall elapse, 
 minds disciplined, and enriched, and invigorated, to 
 grapple with the great problems of their age, to 
 cultivate the higher scientific branches, and even to 
 push their researches into the unexplored regions 
 of general truth. Indeed, the inward life of the 
 University must cease to glow the instant a higher 
 point of attainment should fade from the field of 
 its vision. 
 
 A numerous and select library, an expensive and 
 various apparatus, a cabinet from the various fields 
 of natural specimens, halls thronged with students, 
 
A CHARQE TO REV. DR. FOSTER. 
 
 245 
 
 and ringing with lectures, may be so many elements 
 of power in the character of this University. But 
 the aggregate of merely these can never elevate it 
 above tame mediocrity; the light emanating, the 
 fire radiating from its living soul — the Presidentj the 
 Faculty — are to kindle its glorious future. 
 
 But the prospective has its preparative in the 
 present. The problem now for practical solution is 
 this: How shall the faculties of each student be in 
 the highest degree developed, enriched, and invigor- 
 ated? Not by leaving each to the guidance of his 
 own inclination. This is safe only after uniform 
 development of dhe faculties has been secured by 
 thorough drilling. As the aim of our college course 
 is the symmetrical culture of all the powers, and as 
 the mental constitution is in all substantially the 
 same, the general law of college culture should be 
 correspondingly uniform. Till this common culture 
 be completed it should be unyielding as fate. But 
 this having been consummated, then when the stu- 
 dent seeks professional attainments, let each freely 
 consult his own professional aptitude. We know 
 that education begins, and are equally aware that it 
 never ends. Of this we are assured by the mind’s 
 own mysterious powers, whose immortal designation 
 is GROWTH. It is midway of his career that the 
 pupil is placed in your plastic hand ; not at its 
 beginning, for that is with his first breath; not at 
 its maturity, for ere that long ages must intervene. 
 Charmed as is every educated mind in surveying 
 
246 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 the finished creation, it would have been much 
 more thrilled in witnessing its rising process. This 
 greater pleasure will be yours in seeing the mental 
 fabric rise and successively assuming its appurten- 
 ances. Indeed, yourself will be the architect, its 
 furniture will be yours transferred, and you will 
 accompany it through every step up to the souhs 
 mighty manhood. As the mind’s food is truth, and 
 will continue to be through the eternity of its mys- 
 terious life, in its disciplinary process it should ally 
 itself to the deepest and broadest principles within 
 the human sphere. Though nature is all written 
 over with truth, yet in its highest forms it must be 
 sought beneath the surface. Tireless attention is, 
 therefore, the condition of ultimate attainment. A 
 thousand wishes for wisdom will perish before the 
 threshold is reached. Proximity to its source is not 
 the attainment of the treasure. It must be sought 
 with agony ^ analyzed siftingly, and then digested 
 thoroughly. 
 
 Though your work for a period will chiefly consist 
 in placing the pupil at the avenues to knowledge 
 through which he can pass to its broadest fields — to 
 the microscopic world of analyzed thought and to 
 the telescopic world of far-reaching principle — it 
 will not long be so restricted. You will soon ac- 
 company him in his explorations in both these broad 
 fields. It is not the cramming, but the disciplining 
 process which appertains to the incipiency of the 
 scholar’s course, and this part of the course looks 
 
A CHARGE TO REV. DR. FOSTER. 
 
 247 
 
 forward to those higher functions of the faculties 
 which will call into requisition the clearest concep- 
 tions, the most exact judgments, and the highest 
 generalization. These maturer exercises must ever 
 he preceded by what we have designated as a germ- 
 inant education. In harmony with this view, will 
 you allow me to intimate the Board’s anticipation 
 of your accordance with the long-established colle- 
 giate course. By this I of course mean the clas- 
 sical ^ mathematical j and scientifical departments — 
 excluding the professional branches. The mutual 
 relations of those college branches in this order are 
 too palpable to require protracted discussion. 
 
 Language, you know, is the matrix” of thought 
 in the student’s own mind no less than the instru- 
 ment of transferring it to other minds. In the 
 classic languages there is an inherent tendency to 
 intellectual culture. That delicate perception, nice 
 analysis, that incessant collocation of words, that 
 exact discriminating between apparent synonyms, 
 whet the mind into a quick, unerring insight into 
 the nice and flying shades of variety in thought 
 and speech. That class of writers, having been 
 masters of the subtilest elements of thought, have 
 furnished a system of symbols for communicating it 
 entirely peerless. The reason is the same why the 
 amateur visits the ancient seats of the flne arts to 
 commune with their immortal masters through their 
 matchless productions ; for the same reason the 
 scholar repairs to the classic page, finding the 
 
248 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 freshness and simplicity of nature combined with an 
 art concealed beneath its own exquisite perfection. 
 Thus does the mind, schooled to delight in order, 
 fitness, and congruity, recoil with intense emotions 
 from all the opposites. If language in general can 
 alone span the chasm separating between the mind 
 and consecutive knowledge, how vitally connected 
 with these most finished languages must be the 
 accuracy of thought! 
 
 Irrespective of that old and dark question lying 
 between realism and nominalism, it may be confi- 
 dently affirmed that there is no form of study which 
 more fully brings all the faculties into united effort, 
 nor any other instrument so related to all kinds of 
 mental service. Intimacy with these perfect sym- 
 bols of thought is a fit preparative to mathematics. 
 This, conducting the' mind through a process of 
 severe reasoning, enables it to cling to the forms 
 of abstract truth, endowing it with a keenness, and 
 a quickness, and a vigor not otherwise attainable. 
 Without this communion with abstract thought the 
 mind can scarcely escape the tyranny of vagrant 
 habits by the power of concentrated attention, and 
 can take hold of no series of thought with a com- 
 prehensive grasp. What is foreign will obtrude and 
 will fix itself inexorably at the single point one 
 would examine. These two branches, including the 
 concrete sciences, have, as you know, since the re- 
 vival of letters, been at the foundation of a liberal 
 education. When we remember over how broad 
 
A CHARGE TO REV. DR. FOSTER. 
 
 249 
 
 and various fields these branches extend — that they 
 embrace the physical, the metaphysical, the social, 
 the historical, and the like — we can not overvalue 
 the abstract underlying principle. From these in- 
 ward vital elements of college training external 
 discipline should never be apart. This is sum- 
 marily cadled institutional order, generating in the 
 student-habits of self-control, rigid punctuality, and 
 gentlemanly bearing. Where these are wanting, 
 harmony between the governed and the governing 
 is wanting — opposite aims, conflicting interests, dis- 
 tracting feuds — and may become ruinous as volcanic 
 agency. 
 
 To preserve an afiectionate harmony among all 
 concerned, the history of colleges, you are aware, 
 has pronounced difficult. But the difficulty, we 
 know, is not insuperable, as the thing has been 
 achieved. Few public blessings remain long un- 
 changed by our inward perverting tendencies. Our 
 free institutions, both the parent an i o'spring of 
 cultivated society, are made the occasion of insub- 
 ordination; while the oldest despotism of Oriental 
 realms incidentally issue in opposite results. No 
 observer, passing from those early seats of our race 
 in the East toward the Western empires of younger 
 nations, will fail to be struck at every stage with 
 the wasting reverence for parents and teachers, and 
 with the dying regard for all authority. The oc- 
 casion forbids us to trace the causes and cure of 
 this desolating evil; but I can not forbear naming 
 
250 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. • 
 
 felt Christianity as the neutralizing agent of all evil. 
 This has negotiated peace between two worlds, and 
 can certainly preserve amity in a college fraternity; 
 not by extinguishing passion, but by kindling it 
 into a glow of sympathy which forms the social 
 cement. There is one tendency in the classical 
 course which demands such a neutralizing influ- 
 ence to control it : I allude to the heathenizing 
 influence breathed through all pagan literature. 
 Though we can never dispense with those peer- 
 less modes and symbols of thought till a far higher 
 culture shall polish modern literature, yet against 
 the subtile poison of pagan ethics and polytheism 
 we must interpose the shield of vital Christianity. 
 The classic field can be appropriately surveyed only 
 from a Christian stand-point. 
 
 Kindred to this thought, may I be permitted, 
 in conclusion, to suggest one more? It is the 
 historic fact that the Church, through all the ages 
 of her history, has been the grand educator of the * 
 race. This has been so not merely because Chris- 
 tianity is the grand quiokener of the intellect, and 
 Vould legitimately fill all minds with light, but be- 
 cause it alone can impart the ethical element; and, 
 apart from this element, the highest faculty must 
 remain uneducated. The substratum ^of heathen 
 education was polytheism — that of Christian edu- 
 cation is Christian theism. The fierceness of the 
 antagonism is intrinsic and historical. The former 
 was the last obstacle to yield before the triumphant 
 
A CHARGE TO REU. DR. FOSTER. 
 
 251 
 
 sway of the new religion. Long did it resist the 
 higher civilization introduced by its Christian an- 
 tagonist. To be diffusive of moral light through 
 intellectual truth, is innate to that system whose 
 source was dying love. It was, therefore, not only 
 the wisdom of the Church, but its necessity, to 
 educate the race. 
 
 The keys just delivered into your hands are a 
 symbol of power over mind committed to your 
 trust. This grave charge the Board have solemnly 
 confided to 3mur agency for purposes of the highest 
 discipline. It is mind, without which all the lights 
 in the universe were kindled in vain — mind, for 
 which alone God said let there be suns, and moons, 
 and stars to throw their radiancy through all the 
 chambers of nature. It is for the culture of these 
 agents, the feeblest of which may yet expand be- 
 yond the great field in which power creative has 
 yet energized — may become susceptible of intenser 
 bliss than now rings from all the harps on high. 
 This wondrous image of the uncreated mind, no 
 less expansive than deathless, is now, placed in 
 your custody to mold, and polish, and expand, and 
 replenish, and thereby to fix for its incomprehens- 
 ive destiny in those far-off ages which Jehovah’s 
 mind alone pervades. Such, then, is young mind, 
 that every chord within it which your fingers shall 
 touch may sound in concert with the highest har- 
 monies of the universe. 
 
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 0=:i /:lu:;l 
 
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XII. 
 
 \ 
 
 A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS: 
 
 DELIVERED TO THE GRADUATING CLASS OF THE NORTH- 
 WESTERN UNIVERSITY FOR 1862. 
 
 Remember this and show yourselves men.^^ — Isaiah xlvi, 8. 
 
 This address is not made to our manhood in the 
 sense of brute courage, or of lofty martial bearing, 
 or in the sense of any accidental distinction — it is 
 an appeal made to our noblest powers for their le- 
 gitimate application. The subject does not demand 
 attention tq man as a wondrous physical organism, 
 involving all the combined excellences of every pre- 
 ceding creature which has ever lived, but it re- 
 quires attention to man as a link in the great chain 
 of the intellectual universe — as an agent in the 
 endless train of moral actors — as having a part to 
 perform in executing the scheme of Providence, and 
 in working out the problem of redemption — as a 
 retrospective being mysteriously related to the past, 
 with a view to a preparation for the pregnant fu- 
 ture. Guided by these principles in this discussion, 
 I shall invite attention to a manly reference to the 
 
 past — to a manly decision of character — to a manly 
 
 253 
 
254 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 estimate of true greatness — to a manly apprecia- 
 tion of our abiding relations to the universe. 
 
 The general reference of the subject is irrespect- 
 ive of age; its particular application is to young 
 men. That youth is rashj is an immemorial assump- 
 tion. So far as real it is resolvable into the double 
 cause of defective experience and ardor of constitu- 
 tion. Improvement of the former will give value 
 to the latter. The attainment of this may be made 
 in the lesson of history^ and in the experience of re- 
 ligion. History is not merely the counselor of 
 kings/’ but the instructor of humanity, especially 
 of youthful humanity, in life’s perilous morning, 
 when our allotment is new, almost as if we had 
 last night just entered upon its^ strange experiences. 
 Experience, which can not then be personal, can 
 here be had by proxy. The latest age is appointed 
 to draw upon departed ages — priority to live for 
 posterity. Each age should be wise in proportion 
 to the number of generations which have preceded 
 it. When personal experience comes to the individ- 
 ual youth has fled, and with it goes the finest ele- 
 ment of manhood — nohle daring. But when the 
 experience of the past cooperates with the generous 
 ardor of youth, the crowning glory of wisdom can 
 be fully manifest. Such a strenuous actor, though 
 young in years, is old in communion with matured 
 historic manhood. 
 
 The demands and liabilities of life can no other- 
 wise be known in its earlier stages, or the condi- 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 255 
 
 tions ascertained on which life can be made a suc- 
 cess. Every youthful mind should throw itself 
 open to the conviction that it has a destiny to ful- 
 fill, and that its failure will so far frustrate God's 
 providence. His appointed task may be to educate 
 his cotemporaries by transferring to their minds 
 the wealth and habits of his own ; or to extend civ- 
 ilization by advancing the humanitarian institu- 
 tions, making them more eminently the glory of 
 the age; or to become, an ornament of one of the 
 learned professions, where the honor shall be recip- 
 rocal to the calling. and the incumbent — where, act- 
 ing on an eminence, he may bless a larger portion 
 of his race. There is not one agent within the cir- 
 cle of the sun who is not ' appointed to be a co- 
 worker with God's providence. Having this Divine 
 coadjutor, and millions of fellow-laborers, how can he 
 enter, untaught by the past, on this great theater? 
 To begin life's action is to step on holy ground — it 
 has a commencement, but no termination. On such 
 an unending career the full-orbed light of the past 
 should shine. The monitory voice of ages ringing 
 in your ears tells you not precipitately, not with a 
 rush, but deliberately, this should be done. Every 
 lesson you. have mastered in ethics, in philosophy, 
 and in all kindred branched, reiterates this moni- 
 tion. This instruction, uttered by the voices of the 
 dead and the distant, is to be embodied in practical 
 wisdom, and thus contribute to that sublime end 
 
 of all knowledge — right action. The comparative 
 
 22 
 
256 
 
 LECTURES AND ABERESSES* 
 
 guilt of inaction and of wrong action may well be 
 left to the casuist, but that either is a prevention 
 of man’s godlike powers is no question. 
 
 Of all the young man’s solicitudes none is deeper 
 than ^'how he shall make life a success.” If the 
 solution be sought in chance or in destiny, it will 
 be sought in vain; ^Hhe shade will ever elude the 
 grasp.” It can be found only in an earnest co5per- 
 ation with the providence of God. Virtuous effort 
 and Divine reward are among the harmonies of the 
 universe. This is among those great maxims which 
 contain the essence of all practical wisdom, and 
 which can not be ignored without the most fatal 
 results. This divine philosophy takes root in Chris- 
 tian theology, and is the only unblundering guide 
 through the human pilgrimage. The rashness is 
 stupendous which would cut off the present from 
 the past. This severance would keep the race for- 
 ever in its cradle; it would doom man to that 
 infancy which would preclude all advancement; it 
 would preclude prior generations from bequeathing 
 to us the wealth of their experience ; it would 
 place at an unapproachable distance the intellectual 
 millennium of the race, no less than the spiritual 
 millennium of God; it would fix the track of every 
 generation in the same ‘beaten path trod by all hu- 
 man feet. In fine, it would establish a conclusion 
 subversive of a thousand notorious facts. 
 
 Was there ever a more perilous maxim than that 
 the knowledge of life and character is valueless 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 only as gained by experience? It deridingly con- 
 tradicts the great moral principle divinely pro- 
 claimed, Train up a child in the way he should 
 go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.’* 
 This is either sweepingly true as a principle, or 
 there is an end to human progress, and no signifi- 
 cancy in the growing capabilities stamped on our 
 powers — then, after the flight of a hundred ages. 
 
 In statu quo" would be the dark inscription on 
 the allotment of man. Every individual would 
 drudge through the same experimental process — ^ 
 each would learn wisdom from adversity, caution 
 from imprudence, temperance from excess, industry 
 from want, and all the virtues from the blighting 
 experience of their opposite vices. The contraction 
 of life, from almost a thousand years to less than a 
 century, was to be compensated by appropriating 
 ancestral experience. Where this is ignored each 
 terminates life ere it can be well begun; as though 
 he were in the morning of time, in the cradle of 
 the race, and had heard the angelic shout at the 
 rise of creation — as though he had nothing human 
 to retrospect and every thing human to learn. To 
 such the huge volume of six thousand years is a 
 sealed book, and the mystic echo of oracular voices 
 dies in the distance unheard. 
 
 Why should not the mighty utterances of the 
 dead, sounding from the ancient hights of time, be 
 heeded by posterity as angel messages? Though it 
 be not given to us, as to some nobler nature, to 
 
258 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 view from the summit of the universe the great ex- 
 periment of the race in all its bearings on the whole 
 family of God; yet may we learn our future selves 
 in the light emanating from the development of our 
 predecessors. - 
 
 2. Our next direction is to study the laws of our 
 own being. The living can learn the lessons of the 
 dead only as they learn themselves. The laws of 
 one’s own nature are to him the revelation of God; 
 they should, therefore, be read and scrutinized with 
 the veneration which that sentence from heaven 
 elicited — T\ojd^t leajTO '^ — which glowed in letters of 
 gold on the Grecian temple. In the light that dis- 
 closes these mystic powers every moral act is seen 
 to have a twofold character and importance. It is 
 useful or injurious as are its consequences; vicious 
 or virtuous as are its motives. By a special law of 
 our being the repetition of action generates a mys- 
 terious sway over our faculties. This power, which 
 is so gained or lost, invests every repeated act with 
 an importance not its own. It creates those perma- 
 nent characteristics which are ever removing the 
 p.gent further from the reach of change. 
 
 This law alike controls the physical, intellectual, 
 and moral man. A thousand examples prove the 
 stupendous energy with which intellect is thus in- 
 vested. Attention, memory, judgment illustrate 
 this law in the strength they derive from use. Nor 
 is the power of moral habit less amazing. Every 
 act of vice is another link in that adamantine chain 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 259 
 
 doomed to bind the soul in the dungeon of spirits. 
 Every deed of piety is an upward step toward the 
 lofty seats of glorified humanity. The occultness 
 with which this principle of habit operates connects 
 the wonderful fact with not a shadow of doubt. 
 Those upright principles and noble sentiments, mak- 
 ing the elements of good character, can no other- 
 wise acquire their strength. These, having thus 
 acquired maturity, become the fountain of those 
 mighty thoughts, noble impulses, generous sympa- 
 thies, and lofty aspirations, w^hich have distinguished 
 the Howards, the Wilberforces, and the other angel- 
 men of the race. In such the true and the good 
 become so deeply seated as to be the only idol of 
 the souks veneration. What are merely intellectual 
 endowments compared to this moral ascent toward 
 the center of all greatness and perfection? What 
 is the Aristotelian skill in dialectics, the Homeric 
 pomp of poetry, the Ciceronian power of eloquence, 
 and the Baconian breadth in all philosophy ? What 
 are all these — though the envy of ages — ^^compared 
 to that confirmed goodness to which all worlds are 
 appointed to minister? 
 
 Nor should it ever escape you, young gentlemen, 
 that the power of evil habit is not less cogent. It 
 tends to the same gigantic growth in its downward 
 workings. Insinuating itself in the moral constitu- 
 tion, it becomes a part of the very elements of be- 
 ing. Soon it reaches that fearful maturity in which 
 its tyrant power derides the resistance of will, and 
 
260 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 thus masters that inward energy to which our last 
 appeal is made. Often has the voice of wisdom 
 warned you against corrupt prints and vicious asso- 
 ciates; but why should it not, in deeper tones, pre- 
 monish you against the more insidious, silent, bosom 
 foes? There, in the profound secrecy of the heart, 
 where impure thoughts are voluntarily introduced 
 or deliberately indulged, is at work a more malig- 
 nant poison than the brothel ever vomited on soci- 
 ety! These imminently peril the whole future of 
 the agent. Just as when the mind moves in the 
 bright circles of truth, justice, purity, and benig- 
 nity, its legitimate manifestations are godlike; so, 
 when it works in the dark, secretly communing 
 with the foul and the hase^ it naturally embodies 
 these monsters in practical life. Great virtues, like 
 great crimes, flow from triumphant habit contracted 
 in the viewless chambers of the soul. There, un- 
 seen by all eyes but the eye of consciousness and of 
 God, the virtue is achieved or the vice perpetrated, 
 long before it bursts into visible execution. 
 
 When moral power is thus accumulated, it is 
 never wanting scope for action; it waits not for a 
 great crisis, but ever finds the harvest ripe for the 
 sickle; it works on through sunshine and storm — 
 for injured innocence and oppressed humanity — for 
 down-trodden truth and imperiled patriotism. In 
 this sharpened state of the moral powers, the mind 
 recognizes three grand volumes, thus labeled, in 
 letters of light, God’s works.” One of these is 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 261 
 
 the great objective system entitled Nature; the 
 other is the subjective system called Mind 
 and the third, the living oracles named Scrip- 
 ture!' To the mind, in this state, the oneness of 
 authorship is obtrusively palpable; it is seen in the 
 light of self-evidence. The laws of thought and the 
 truths of Revelation can not be out of harmony. 
 The one is God’s book without us; the other is his 
 revelation within us. The correspondence of the 
 one to the other shows them inseparable as the 
 incident and reflected rays. Thus by knowing one’s 
 self he perceives all nature an ocean of elemental 
 thought, and all revelation a still higher disclosure 
 of the same mighty intellect, 
 
 I remark that another element of manliness is 
 DECISION of character. This involves an indisso- 
 luble connection between the conclusions of the 
 judgment and the decisions of the will. The order 
 in this process is patience in inquiry, accuracy in 
 knowing, reliance on judgment, and vigor of pur- 
 pose, Legitimately does this changeless reason fol- 
 low a transparent judgment, based on precision of 
 thought, preceded by sifting investigation. That 
 very caution which generates timidity in the empty 
 mind, inspires courage in the richly-replenished 
 mind. The one, like the midnight traveler, not 
 knowing the dangers of his way, advances with 
 hesitancy ; the other, with noonday light on his 
 path, fearlessly advances. The one is attended by 
 timidity and delay ; the other, by confidence and 
 
262 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 speed. The influence of certainty on confidence is 
 among our most common experiences. When did 
 the mathematician ever want confidence in the most 
 distant conclusion of his protracted process? 
 
 In its measure, similar certitude attends all moral 
 and practical truth when previous inquiry has given 
 transparency to all its relations. All the lines of 
 light meeting on the point in question, the connec- 
 tion becomes indissoluble between the conclusions 
 of the understanding and the decisions of the will. 
 Then, if passion kindles, it only becomes a glowing 
 atmosphere which invests the judgment, and not a 
 tyrant to enslave it; it is the master and not the 
 victim of the most glowing emotions. The merest 
 glance at the phenomena of the will discloses the 
 connection between (imre, judgment, and confidence, 
 showing that they never fail to precede volition, 
 and that the strength of this is the measure of the 
 vigor of them. Power was never found alone in 
 the universe ; stripped of its accompaniments, it 
 would be the most fearful object that could alarm 
 responsible beings. It is the mantle of virtue 
 flowing gracefully over the giant’s shoulders which 
 blends the feeling of security with the idea of 
 grandeur. 
 
 Decision of character regards both the subjective 
 and objective spheres of action. The former is 
 legitimately the ground of the latter. He who 
 conquers himself, vanquishing his passions, his ap- 
 petites, and his selfishness, is the divinely-recog- 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 263 
 
 nized hero— ^^Euling his spirit, he is better than 
 he who taketh a city.’' Decision of character is, 
 therefore, a virtue which no where fails to have 
 ample scope. Not only in every one of the learned 
 professions, at every post of official trust, but in 
 the humblest walks of private life — in the deep 
 recesses of our own mysterious nature — it can 
 mightily operate. Where great truth has been 
 known — its strength contemplated in its majesty 
 and experienced in its power — this characteristic 
 has come forth in its noblest form. Look at 
 that mighty Jew, Saul of Tarsus, following truth 
 through flood and flame! At first the hated sect 
 melts away before the fiery breath of his nostrils 
 as the snow from Lebanon before the simoom of 
 the desert; but no sooner does a beam from heaven 
 fall on his dark spirit than he follows its certain 
 light, with a sublime devotion with which the 
 whole age glowed. At once and forever he propa- 
 gates the faith he has destroyed; all other interests 
 relinquish their hold on this wonderful man. The 
 temples of Diana, Jupiter Olympius, the Parthenon, 
 with all their enchanting associations, all the clas- 
 sical grandeur, the accumulation of ages, were for- 
 gotten toys in competition with Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 Grasp, I beseech you, young men, the substance 
 of these hints on decision of character — this most 
 manly trait in a symmetrical mind. Their recapitu- 
 lation may give them a stronger hold on memory: 
 
 1. Kevert, then, to the radical importance of ac- 
 
 23 
 
264 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 curate knowledge to correct judgments — to the 
 ruin of mental decision effected by vague thinking. 
 2. Eeflect, also, that perfection of knowledge is an 
 advance on accuracy of knowledge. While accu- 
 racy regards a single branch of a complex subject, 
 perfection embraces oil its branches — that embracing 
 each, and this comprehending all — so that every one 
 is known in its altitude, longitude, and latitude, 
 and the whole in its contents, properties, and rela- 
 tions. 3. But it must not escape us that these 
 degrees of knowledge can never extend to all sub- 
 jects. This fact, which nothing could conceal, has 
 originated a division of labor, and repudiated all 
 universality of genius. Indeed, as genius is a par- 
 ticular adaptation, it embodies a contradiction to 
 suppose it universal. This does not preclude that 
 general knowledge of the arts and sciences, the in- 
 dispensable bond of unity in the learned world. 
 Beyond this each must restrict himself to one field, 
 and there make clean work. This mastery of all 
 the principles of one’s profession leads him with a 
 firm step to the highest public confidence. 4. To 
 do this investigation must ever precede delibera- 
 tion. Judgme’nt is not the antecedent but the 
 sequent of examination. This canon enhances the 
 importance of the next; namely, 5. Desire must 
 never outstrip the movements of investigation, de- 
 liberation, and judgment. Desire kindles into pas- 
 sion the moment it treads ou the heels of these 
 calmer movements of the soul; but otherwise it 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 265 
 
 will quicken these, and will chain the end to the 
 final volition in the union of an unconquerable 
 decision. 6. The final thought turns on the object 
 of desire. The character of the object is not the 
 test of immediate success; the basest object is often 
 attainable, but then success is ruin; but the object 
 of desire being noble bears investigation, and those 
 other mental steps preparatory to reverseless de- 
 cision. 
 
 May I next direct your attention to a manly es- 
 timate of true greatness ? It is essentially com- 
 posed of the two elements, power and goodness. 
 That goodness is an indispensable element of great- 
 ness appears from the mind’s own moral structure. 
 The incipient conviction of this spontaneously 
 arises, and it becomes deeper and stronger as one 
 perceives that he possesses his powers fully only in 
 the consciousness of moral rectitude. The allega- 
 tion which often meets us, that ambition dares 
 greater perils than patriotism, that avarice endures 
 severer sufferings than benevolence, and that su- 
 perstition makes longer pilgrimages than piety — 
 that is, that there are other forces in our nature 
 stronger than goodness — can not be true. But how 
 monstrous the conclusion that a human spirit is 
 weaker when allied to God its father, than when 
 in the thraldom of debasing passion ! The reverse 
 is authenticated by all history. Let that determine 
 what has been wrought by the activities of selfish- 
 ness compared to the deeds of toil, peril, and endur- 
 
266 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 ance achieved by Christian philanthropy. Trace 
 the angel path of Howard, whose track led him 
 through the darkest dungeons of Europe, to miti- 
 gate the prison horrors of confined sufierers. Look 
 at the Moravian missionaries, rending every kin- 
 dred .endearment, and directing their steps to the 
 Wintry region of Greenland, to mitigate the horrors^ 
 of paganism, and assuage, by the light of the Word^ 
 the long night of ages! There they toil from age 
 to age, with no pleasure but that of doing good — 
 no reward but at the resurrection of the just. 
 Compare to them the daring sons of ambition, 
 whose scorching light, like the meteor’s glare, 
 flashes on the eye of the world and expires. 
 
 3. Another mode in which goodness contributes 
 to greatness is hy imparting self-conteol. The 
 scepter swayed over one’s self is the most potent 
 ever grasped by the hand of power. It is a divine 
 utterance, ^^He that ruleth his spirit is better than 
 he that taketh a city.” He masters a resistance 
 arising from the mysterious recesses of his own 
 spirit; he vanquishes forces which defy the might- 
 iest physical power. His antagonists are those 
 downward tendencies which make a part of himself; 
 each of which can be mastered only by a new ap- 
 plication of skill. These forces acknowledge no di- 
 rect control of the will; they set at naught that 
 great agency which wields all power. They burst 
 from the restraints of the will like the demoniacs 
 which rended the fetters that bound them. The 
 
A BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 267 
 
 subjective becomes the objective; the controller and 
 the controlled are identical. Who can measure the 
 difficulty of acquiring this strange sovereignty? — 
 of hushing to calmness the wildest passions, and 
 making harmless as light the most fiery emotions? 
 Mere rigor of purpose can no more accomplish this 
 than it can make the raging ocean waveless, or the 
 angry heavens stormless. 
 
 Of all earth's conquerors, then, he must be the 
 most potent who has the secret of self-control. Let 
 memory run back over the chain of ages, and recall 
 instances enough of mighty minds to represent the 
 whole class. Let it select Caesar, who ruled the 
 nation that ruled the world; Alexander, who wept 
 that there was not a second globe over which to 
 lead his invincible phalanx; Napoleon, at whose 
 lightning approach all Europe shuddered — these 
 were among the giants of the race whose monu- 
 ments ages will not crumble. But had they mas- 
 tered themselves as they controlled their armies, 
 vastly other than it was would have been their 
 fate — the Senate-house would never have been 
 stained by the blood of murdered Caesar; a fit of 
 drunkenness would never have been the death-bed 
 of the world’s conqueror; a lonely rock in the 
 midst of the ocean would never have been the 
 prison-house of the Emperor. Had they acquired 
 what goodness alone can impart, their respective 
 ages would have transmitted different histories to 
 posterity. This mighty element of greatness en- 
 
268 
 
 LEGTUEES “AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 ables a man to have himself in his owii power; to 
 lay his controlling hand on his spirit when it 
 flashes and glows in the burning furnace of tempta- 
 tion. This is a triumph which would have secured 
 the archangel, fallen, upon his throne of light. It 
 is the triumph of reason over passion, over appetite, 
 over the buffetings and blandishments of society, 
 and over the dark agency that rules the midnight 
 of demons. Apart from this attribute of goodness, 
 how could true greatness exist, even on the throne 
 of the Eternal Sovereign? 
 
 4. The vital connection of the one with the other 
 is exhibited in the elevating power of goodness 
 upon men in the lower walks of private life. The 
 history of facts must have superseded the philoso- 
 phy of the process. We demand, with confidence, 
 where is there a lofty sphere of social frust to 
 which goodness has not raised citizens of this class? 
 Franklin was the son of a soap-boiler ; the elder 
 Adams’s father was a farmer; Jay’s ancestors 
 were merchants ; Eittenhouse was a clock-maker ; 
 Washington a practical surveyor. These, which 
 are but scattered specimens of numerous instances 
 illustrative of the principle, emerged from humble 
 walks and pious families, and will forever be monu- 
 mental of the elevating power of goodness. The 
 history of other lands and ages is not less replete 
 with the workings of this same principle. 
 
 We can not advert to the accompaniments of 
 gODdness, to the sterling integrity, the tireless dili- 
 
A BACCALAUEEATE ADDEESS. 
 
 269 
 
 gence, the fervid piety which it secures, without 
 finding it a passport to elevated position. How this 
 principle operates in such a position can not be un- 
 known to history. It there develops in schemes of \ 
 improvement, in salutary legislation, and in broad 
 philanthropy, silently rebuking grasping selfishness 
 and official corruption. Like a star in the polar 
 heavens, it can never cease to shed its beams on the 
 pathway of coming generations; it can never fail 
 to diminish the tide of corruption which so darkly 
 rolls over public station. Like its emblem the sun, 
 holding its family of worlds in their pathway of air, 
 clothing them with life, and bloom,, and beauty, it 
 so conserves and adorns the high places of power. 
 
 4. But as an' element of greatness goodness is no 
 where more conspicuous than in oratory. That in- 
 tellectual power is essential to eloquence is never 
 questioned, but that it derives its greatest energy 
 from goodness we maintain. How can the heart be 
 inured to unworthy occupations without becoming 
 assimilated to its employment? — without thus be- 
 coming a weight to depress the intellect ? No 
 passion triumphs without contracting the mind's 
 sphere, and obscuring its vision. But goodness is 
 the quickener of the intellect, stimulating its active 
 researches and powerful combinations. The glow 
 of his heart who walks with God kindles his intel- 
 lect; it expands and fructifies the mind like the 
 sun on the face of vegetable nature. The warmth 
 of the heart expands the powers of the intellect. 
 
270 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 How can the heart ascend to God without carrying 
 with it the intellect ? Upon no other track of 
 thought open such scenes of boundless wisdom. 
 The enthusiasm of the heart sets logic on fire, and 
 the speaker s achievement on the driest theme is 
 apart from all frigidity. These flashes of goodness 
 from the purified heart evoke the profoundest emo- 
 tions of our mysterious nature; they awaken those 
 profound sentiments which find their correspondence 
 in nothing else. The speaker s nobility addresses 
 the hearer’s magnanimity. The depth of his con- 
 victions creates in the listener those correspond- 
 ingly profound. . 
 
 This analysis of true greatness shows how utterly 
 men have misjudged in locating the power of elo- 
 quence, and also how entirely they have deceived 
 themselves in the constituent elements of great- 
 ness. Not in kingly authority, in martial achieve- 
 ment, or in aesthetic skill, but in those two manly 
 elements — the power of the intellect and the good- 
 ^ ness of the heart. That alone may have a bewitch- 
 ing glitter, but it would be the moon-beam on the 
 iceberg. But when the intellect is bathed in good- 
 ness its enchanting moonlight is vitalized into the 
 life-giving noon-beam. Of the instances in which 
 this has been exemplified time will not allow me to 
 speak; many are found out of that bright array of 
 orators, the echo of whose voices is the oracle of 
 ages. Of those found in other elevated walks, let 
 Newton and Herschel be specimens. Their home 
 
A BACCALAUBEATE ADDBESS. 
 
 271 
 
 was in the starry worlds, and having^ detected their 
 hidden laws, they looked back upon the generations 
 above which they had towered, and called on them 
 for new praises to the builder of the universe. 
 
 Finally, let us take a manly view of our endur- 
 ing relations to the universe — of our nature, of our 
 duty, and of our destiny. Our powers, which once 
 glowed with an awful brightness from the impress 
 of Jehovah's image upon them, though they have 
 since endured the blight of sin, are now restored by 
 God the Word, who made our nature his chosen 
 vestment. The stroke of guilt had blinded us to 
 the grandeur of our own being. A few elapses 
 from eternity tend to restore our vision. When 
 our brother Elijah rolled his chariot of flame 
 through the opened heavens to join the white-robed 
 worshipers, a glimpse was had of human destiny. 
 More fully was this disclosed when our Elder 
 Brother allied himself to our nature, to elevate, 
 honor, and glorify it, and with his own hand to 
 unbar the everlasting doors before it. Were our 
 nature not such that the chord which vibrates 
 through the heavenly family thrills the human 
 spirit — were it merel}^ physical, then ought it to 
 cling to earth with exhaustless tenacity. But being 
 winged for endless flight, we should seize with a 
 more than death-grasp on kindred objects. Though 
 man's duty addresses him on as many sides as he 
 sustains relations — though he has as many natures 
 as there are worlds to which he is related — should 
 
272 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 the lowest absorb the highest? — should the spirit- 
 ual entomb itself in the material ? — the angel in 
 the brute? Is it manly to turn coldly away from 
 the great redemption of our double nature? — from 
 what had birth among the Trinity in council? — 
 that which the everlasting voice has eulogized as 
 the fullness of the Father’s grace, the brightness of 
 the Son’s glory, the plenitude of the Spirit’s en- 
 ergy? — that mighty scheme into which angels’ eyes 
 were strained to pierce ? — that which forms a belt of 
 love around the ransomed race? — is it manly to al- 
 4ow the bright morning of life to be shrouded by 
 the clouds of care and guilt before this unmatched 
 provision is secured? 
 
 As we have now reached the point where our 
 ways divide, let us choose the course which shall 
 reunite us amid the greetings of ransomed humanity. 
 
XIII. 
 
 A REVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW: 
 
 A LECTURE DELIVERED BY REQUEST TO THE STUDENTS 
 OF THE GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN 1858. 
 
 Young Gentlemen, — In accordance with your 
 urgent request, I have briefly reviewed an article 
 in the Westminster Review, in the volume for the 
 present year, (1858,) and now propose to submit to 
 you the results of that examination in the form of 
 a lecture. The article in question alleges ^Ghe weak- 
 ness and failure of Protestantism'' 
 
 Through the early history of that quarterly the 
 reviews^ it contained were rather occult than pal- 
 pable. The blow aimed at Christianity was in- 
 tended to be fatal, but the hand that dealt it was 
 sought to be concealed. But the courage of con- 
 tributors having greatly improved, the mask is now 
 removed, and open hostility is broadly maintained. 
 Of this you will require no other proof than the 
 passages in the present article, on which I shall 
 now proceed to animadvert. In the course of these 
 strictures attention will be directed both to the 
 facts and arguments employed by the reviewer. 
 
274 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 In the special pleading of this review, we find 
 opposite facts ignored, vanquished objections reas- 
 serted, fallacious arguments combined anew, and 
 abandoned positions confidently resumed. The very 
 reverse of the proposition that Protestantism is de- 
 caying is notoriously true. The evidence of it lies 
 so entirely within the common intelligence that it 
 certainly should not have escaped the reviewer. Is 
 it not palpable that Protestantism is perpetually ex- 
 tending its area by civic conquest over the Western 
 continent; that it is recovering its lost theological 
 ground in Central Europe; that never before was 
 it so earnestly preparing to enlarge its missionary 
 movements, which will be sustained by a predomin- 
 ating Protestant civilization; that no continent on 
 the globe lies beyond the field of its operations? 
 Recently the very heart of Africa, having been ex- 
 plored, has evolved facilities for this evangelizing 
 enterprise. Asia, having removed the bar to the 
 ingress of Western mind, has become accessible to 
 the Gospel. The spirit of the century has been 
 silently moving on the European continent with 
 such potency as to enlarge the bounds of religious 
 toleration; and on our own continent Protestantism 
 is enlarging its . bounds commensurate with the ex- 
 pansion of our civilization. 
 
 The gloomy prophecy of the downfall of Protest- 
 antism, in the face of all these facts, must argue in 
 the prophet something worse than ^^a pure heroical 
 defect of thought.’’ Never before did it develop 
 
A REVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 275 
 
 such elements of strength, and tower with such 
 majesty amid the decay and ruins of all sorts of 
 antagonisms. When did it ever antagonize so suc- 
 cessfully with Popery, with heathenism, or with 
 infidelity? How can the relative strength of Prot- 
 estantism now be compared with itself eighty years 
 ago, without perceiving its stupendous advancement 
 on this continent ? Then our great educational 
 centers — such as Yale — had almost totally gone 
 over to infidelity, and many of the leading minds 
 of the Revolution had renounced the oracles of 
 God; now our centers of learning are instruments 
 of Christianity — auxiliaries to the pulpit — and the 
 power of Christian agency has been multiplied a 
 hundredfold by our benevolent institutions. Which 
 of these elements of power has infidelity been able 
 permanently to ally to its interests? The utter 
 want of all kindredship has rendered every attempt 
 at this a rope of sand. It has not allied to it on 
 the whole continent one great educational organ, 
 nor a single periodical invested with power sufll- 
 cient to command public respect; its strongest or- 
 ganizations dare not face the light of day. The 
 fact speaks volumes, that, wherever it exists among 
 us, it is compelled to assume a religious guise; it 
 occupies a Christian pulpit, not a pantheistic ros- 
 trum ; it asserts some high moral aims to give 
 popularity to the brutal destiny it assigns to man; 
 it turns advocate of temperance, of universal suf- 
 frage, of human rights, and the like, and thus 
 
276 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 gathers around it a tolerating public. This state- 
 ment, susceptible of the largest illustration, is 
 exemplified by Parker, Emerson, and coadjutors. 
 And, indeed, despite of these cunning expedients, 
 a wane irresistibly comes upon the disk of these 
 brightest luminaries, demonstrating to all men that 
 blank materialism or avowed atheism in any form 
 can not retain patronage by all the aid derived 
 from these popular topics; nor could it endure the 
 test of experiment when it came in the alluring 
 form of scientific socialism. Never has it made the 
 oft-repeated attempt without the same fatal result, 
 though the experiment has been conducted by mon- 
 arch minds, and amid the concurrence of the most 
 flattering circumstances. 
 
 These are but shreds of that stupendous system 
 of proofs which show that the elements of our na- 
 ture preclude the possibility of self-sustaining infi- 
 delity, and furnish an a priori argument for the 
 permanent advance and everlasting stability of 
 Christianity. But our adroit reviewer impugns 
 Protestantism in the very records on which it re- 
 poses. He complains that the Gospels consist, in 
 part, of gross superstitions brought by the Jews 
 from Babylon, and from other pagan sources. He 
 instances the doctrine of demoniacal possession;'' 
 but with great leniency he acquits the sacred writ- 
 ers of evil design, as they only accommodated 
 their dialect to the apprehension of the ignorant, 
 and made no substantial error." Beyond all doubt, 
 
A. EEVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 277 
 
 / 
 
 these evangelists needed some apology if, as he al- 
 leges, they ascribed to personal agents — to devils — 
 that which belongs to mere disease. These writers 
 record the speeches, the expressed preferences, and 
 personal acts of these ejected demons. Christ him- 
 self claimed to cast them out ^^by the finger of 
 God,’’ expressly recognizing their personal charac- 
 ter. He both addressed them and was addressed 
 by them. Before entering into the swine they im- 
 plored his permission to do so. Christ granted 
 their petition, and the sequel is recorded. What 
 perversion could be more egregious than to predi- 
 cate these personal words and acts of mere disease? 
 '^That many well-informed divines are ashamed of 
 the Bible doctrine of devils,” the reviewer may 
 truthfully assert; but what does this prove? Not 
 that the doctrine is untrue, or that interpretative 
 rules of boundless license should be invented by 
 which to dispose of it; but simply that some pro- 
 fessed divines are rationalists, and have sagacity to 
 reject from God’s Word whatever lies beyond the 
 vast range of their own philosophy. Would not 
 the same kind of hermeneutics that authorize men 
 to laugh at demoniacal possession embolden them 
 to reject from the Bible every trace of the super- 
 natural ? 
 
 Nor is our reviewer less stumbled by the ac- 
 count of tongues given in the Acts, and in the 
 Epistle to the Corinthians. These,” he says, 
 were no languages, but gibberish — as used by 
 
278 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 Irving and his congregation — which St. Paul most 
 probably felt to be nonsensical, unworthy, and gro- 
 tesque; which he desired to repress, but did not 
 dare to forbid.” (p. 81.) After this statement it is 
 .not a little surprising to hear the same writer, on 
 the same page, maintain that these mysterious, 
 unintelligible utterances were the same which the 
 apostles and early Christians looked upon as effects 
 of the Holy Spirit.” What, did this far-seeing 
 man regard them at the same time both nonsensical 
 and effects of the Holy Spirit!” Had he, then, 
 consecrated his lofty powers forever to the guidance 
 of that Spirit whose effects were nonsensical ? 
 Thus, to villify the miraculous character of Chris- 
 tianity, our sage reviewer dares to stultify the 
 most splendid mind of the age. This master-mind 
 in the Christian movement undoubtedly regarded 
 speaking with tongues among the Corinthians ^^of 
 the same Spirit as the other miraculous gifts enu- 
 merated in his letter to them;” but not quite as 
 identical with nonsense and burlesque.” 
 
 Another evidence which our reviewer finds of 
 the sinking fortunes of Protestantism, ^^is the late 
 abandonment of the old ground on which it was sup- 
 ported.” (p. 82.) ^^He reminds us that from thirty 
 to thirty-five years ago Paley’s doctrine of the 
 Christian evidence was dominant in both Universi- 
 ties, and was received alike by High and Low 
 Church ;” then recording a long list of learned 
 bishops and eminent scholars, who believed by 
 
A REVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 279 
 
 invoking historic evidence they could acquire the as- 
 sent of every intelligent mind to the Christian doc- 
 trine.’' And let us demand why could they not? 
 To this we have the astounding answer, that ^^a re- 
 action has taken place by two young men in Ox- 
 ford — Pusey and Newman.” So the Komanism of 
 these two High Churchmen has neutralized the en- 
 tire mass of historic evidence which has been the 
 accumulation of ages, and in whose validity the 
 mightiest minds have concurred. But why did the 
 reviewer restrict his authorities to these two Oxford 
 apostates ? Had not powerful Eomanists advocated 
 substantially their views ages before they were 
 born? How can the claimed infallibility of the 
 universal Church, or the spiritual insight of the fa- 
 vored individual mind, subvert historic evidence, or 
 show that the facts of Christianity are unsuscep- 
 tible of evidence, or that they are not significant of 
 all that they have been supposed to imply ? Can 
 these historic verities, which have withstood the 
 floods and storms of ages, be uprooted by that 
 small party of Germanized Puseyites ? But feeling 
 not quite secure in this position, the reviewer 
 has found a stronger reason for the inevita-ble down- 
 fall of Protestantism; this ^Gs in the atheistic tend- 
 encies of science y His language is this, (p. 83 :) 
 Precisely because theologians will not consider 
 first principles, . . . therefore it is that sci- 
 
 ence tends to become atheistic.” Had this charge 
 
 specified the first principles, whose reconsideration 
 
 24 
 
280 
 
 LECTUBES AND ADBBESSES. 
 
 theologians have declined, its refutation would have 
 been facile. We demand of him what first prin- 
 ciple have they failed to reconsider ? Which of the 
 primary intuitions of the mind has not recently 
 been investigated by M’Cosh and others? When 
 has the causal principle in all its bearings been 
 more thoroughly sifted? 
 
 The pens have just dropped from the hands of 
 four English writers who have furnished as many 
 volumes on theism, who in several instances have 
 gone down to the very roots of thought. In Ger- 
 many more than a hundred volumes have been de- 
 voted to this discussion within our own age, and in 
 other parts of Europe the first principles involved 
 in the subject have been analyzed and examined de 
 7iovo» It is certainly not unknown to the deep 
 reader that the improvements in psychology for the 
 last half century have made first principles the 
 matter of discussion by the best minds in Christen- 
 dom. The reviewer's assertion must, therefore, be 
 deemed entirely gratuitous. But he aims a blow 
 directly at the divine authority of Eevelation in 
 this language, (p. 84:) Nothing more can be meant 
 by an authoritative, infallible Bible than to dese- 
 crate, in comparison to it, all the ordinary modes of 
 learning truth, and duty, and rights." We may 
 well doubt whether a grosser misstatement is con- 
 ceivable. How can the acknowledged authority of 
 the Bible restrict our researches in the vast terri- 
 tory of truth and duty? Does not that sacred 
 
A EEVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 281 
 
 book every-where recognize our previous knowledge 
 of many truths? Does it not implicitly direct us 
 to continue our researches beyond its own pages — 
 to prove all things, and hold fast that which is 
 good. Did not this inspired direction extend to 
 what is out of the Bible it would involve the ab- 
 surdity of supposing what was not good is contained 
 in the Bible. But it was convenient to our reviewer 
 to ignore this, and to apply to the whole range of all 
 accessible truth what was merely applicable to the 
 most positive precepts. But this is merely a ran- 
 dom specimen of those fallacies which this argument 
 so freely employs. Because disclosure of otherwise 
 unknowable truth is authoritative, how can that 
 preclude all other modes of acquiring truth, or dis- 
 parage what is found elsewhere? Have these ob- 
 jectors to an authoritative Bible yet to learn that 
 it appertains to the very essence of its teachings to 
 quicken research both within and without its own 
 precincts. Is it unknown to them that this a priori 
 truth is corroborated by the history of all Bible 
 lands. The very reverse of the objections, therefore, 
 is the well-accredited truth. 
 
 But on the next page (85) a still more fatal 
 thrust is made at revealed religion. ^^The world,” 
 says he, ^^has yet to wait for a religion which shall 
 grow stronger and stronger with every development 
 of sound scientific acquirement.” We concede that 
 ^Hrue religion can not but strike its roots deeper 
 with the cultivation of mind and increase of wis- 
 
282 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 dom/’ and this we affirm is the very thing which 
 Protestant Christianity accomplishes. If the oppo- 
 site be ever apparent the result is not legitimate, 
 but is despite of the inborn tendency. The reviewer 
 in this case, as in others, makes the effect of one 
 element of the cause the exponent of the whole 
 cause consisting of many elements. He has occa- 
 sionally witnessed the decay of religion before the 
 advance of science, and now suddenly rushes to the 
 conclusion that the two are out of harmony — that 
 the twilight of religion shrinks away before the 
 meridian splendor of science. Because growing sci- 
 ence has been known to induce infidelity in commu- 
 nities long shrouded in the gloom of superstition, 
 how can it verify the conclusion that science van- 
 quishes Christianity? It vanquishes superstition; 
 but this is the foe of Christianity: that which puts 
 it to flight is, therefore, the ally of Christianity. 
 Let every social force be removed from a Christian 
 community but sciencej then can you fairly test the 
 alleged repugnancy of the one to the other. Such 
 an experiment would disclose the eternal harmony 
 between them; it would be seen that the world has 
 not to wait for such a religion, but that it de- 
 scended among men when the Sun of eternity arose 
 on time. 
 
 In the course of his discussion this reviewer 
 reaches the joyful conclusion that Protestantism — 
 that is, Christianity — has no future,” (p. 84). The 
 astounding disappearance of this great agency which 
 
A REVIEW OF THE WESTMlllSTER REVIEW. 283 
 
 has swayed enlightened nations for almost twenty 
 centuries, should be proclaimed by unmistakable 
 events. What, then, is the unequivocal precursor 
 of this great revolution? The first demonstration 
 is in the alleged fact that few distinguished 
 writers fail to be understood.’' But what proof 
 does this contain that Christianity has finished its 
 weary course and must now lie down in death? 
 As another evidence it is alleged that ^^no writer 
 of name will hazard his reputation by writing on 
 the Trinity, or producing any extended work on the 
 Atonement." The asserter of these propositions is, 
 indeed, a man of courage. No ordinary hardihood 
 would have sufficed to venture the assertion. Could 
 it be unknown to him that some of the deepest 
 thinkers of the age have just laid down their pens 
 after the completion of the most elaborate works on 
 both these subjects? 
 
 But before advancing to other topics in the re- 
 view, let us retrospect an earlier page, (75,) where he 
 states, that under the measure of mental freedom 
 which the great revolution against Charles I brought 
 in, and by the aid of the growing indifference to re- 
 ligion in France and elsewhere, physical science has 
 in the two last centuries grown up." Our reviewer 
 here, as elsewhere, betrays special fondness for this 
 wholesale kind of assertion. Indeed, it is the only 
 mode by which the materials at his command can 
 be made to serve his cause. There are two stated 
 facts here, that are so far untrue as to render the 
 
284 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 little which is true inapplicable. It is not a fact 
 that a growing indifference to religion for the last 
 two centuries in France, or in any other part of 
 Christendom, prevailed. Nor is it true that physical 
 science had the most rapid advance in that portion 
 of this period when religion was most declining. 
 The reverse is true, as they have both most ad- 
 vanced at the same period. This may be asserted, 
 with the deepest emphasis, of our own half century. 
 Within these fifty years the whole French nation 
 have retraced with sadness their steps of departure 
 from Christianity, returning to its fold. Nor is this 
 untrue of large portions of other European nations. 
 That within the same period the pulse of Protest- 
 antism has throbbed with unwonted vigor a thou- 
 sand facts proclaim. Now that this same period, 
 more than any other on the records of man, has 
 witnessed the triumphs of physical science, is too 
 notorious to admit of formal proof. Nothing, there- 
 fore, can be needful but a just classification of times 
 and events, mentioned by the reviewer, to demon- 
 strate his absolute falsity. Because religion declined 
 at one period of the two centuries, and science ad- 
 vanced during another period, what causal relation 
 can be inferred between the decline of religion and 
 the revival of science ? Thus the whole force of his 
 pompous statement is derived from the confusion of 
 dates. 
 
 But feeling that the whole strength of the Chris- 
 tian cause lay in the truth of its Founder’s death 
 
 / 
 
A REVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 285 
 
 and resurrection, our reviewer has put forth all his 
 strength to call these great facts in question, (pp. 
 78-80.) As to the time Christ hung on the cross 
 the reviewer finds ^Hhe narrators at variance. 
 Mark (xv, 26-34) distinctly states that Jesus was 
 crucified at the third hour and died at the ninth 
 hour.” ^^John as expressly tells us that he was 
 not yet crucified at the sixth hour; (xix, 14;) 
 that it was about the sixth hour when they cried 
 out. Crucify him!” To bring the Sacred Eecord to 
 the utmost extent into discredit, he makes the most 
 of the differences of commentators on the discrepan- 
 cies, and even calls in Strauss to his aid, who re- 
 gards the account of John to be a mythical addi- 
 tion.” Did not the reviewer know that the two 
 modes of reckoning time in this nation entirely har- 
 monize these apparent discrepancies? — that they di- 
 vided the night into four periods, each containing 
 three hours, and that the same division obtained of 
 the day — the first three-hours’ period commencing 
 at sunrise, the second at nine, the third at noon, 
 the fourth at three? The other mode of division 
 was into single hours, commencing at sunrise. 
 Christ having been fastened to the cross soon after 
 midday, John’s sixth hour would correspond to 
 Mark’s third hour. About the sixth hour of the 
 one and about the third hour of the other are pre- 
 cisely the same period. But our reviewer’s purpose 
 could be served only by ignoring these obvious 
 means of harmonizing these evangelists. But from 
 
286 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 this he proceeds v/ith great adroitness to cast doubt 
 on the reality of Christ's death and resurrection, 
 putting forth all his strength to bring into doubt 
 these two great facts. To give plausibility to the 
 denial of Christ's death, he assigns to Pilate a spe- 
 cial part to act in the affair, (p. 79,) and supposes 
 ^Hhe Governor secretly ordered the soldiers to re- 
 move Jesus from the cross so soon as he appeared 
 to faint, and deliver him to his friends" — ^Hhat 
 on this account they refrained from breaking his 
 legs; that John unwittingly suggests that Christ 
 was not dead, by stating that when they were about 
 to take him down a soldier pierced his side, out of 
 which blood and water issued ; that he was not 
 buried where suffocation would take place, but 
 where he might receive surgical treatment and cor- 
 dials." Was there ever a series of statements more 
 perfectly imaginary ! Ought not the reviewer to 
 feel that some sort of evidence would be demanded 
 for allegations so utterly gratuitous ; that some 
 kind or degree of proof, mediate or direct, should 
 at least give them plausibility ? But where is 
 there a shadow of evidence that Pilate made the 
 slightest movement toward the rescue of Christ's 
 life after he surrendered him for crucifixion? In- 
 deed, there is evidence directly against it. Had a 
 collusion existed between the Governor and his offi- 
 cers to prevent the death of Christ, would he have 
 surrendered him to the custody of his crucifiers? — 
 would he have directed them to make his tomb 
 
A REVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 287 
 
 sure by filling its entrance with a large stone, seal- 
 ing it so as to make its removal death? — would he 
 have directed to surround it day and night by a 
 perpetual watch, whose want of fidelity would have 
 been fatal to themselves? When the entire nation 
 was shaken to its center by the reported resurrec- 
 tion, would not the secret that the Government had 
 conspired to prevent his death have leaked out? 
 But the reviewer imagines that he finds proof that 
 Christ did not die on the cross, in the fact that 
 blood flowed from his pierced side. He quotes Ori- 
 gen, Euthimeus, and several of the Fathers, to 
 prove that blood would not flow from a dead body 
 'Ghough it were pierced a thousand times.” But 
 our reviewer, too timid to confide iii the physiology 
 of the early fathers, and too poor in material for 
 proof to do without it, he adduces it that it may 
 seem to avail; hence, after he resigned it, he still 
 clings to it, observing, ^^We are too well aware of 
 the delicacy^ of these physiological questions to 
 speak so confidently ourselves.” Why, then, speak 
 of them at all? Did he not know there was not a 
 shadow of truth in the allegation ? He adds, The 
 flow of blood is most easily accounted for by sup- 
 posing the circulation to be still active.” But what 
 has this to do with the impossibility of its flowing 
 after death ? Indeed, the question has been determ- 
 ined by the test of repeated mperiment, and the 
 result should extort from the reviewer the most 
 humbling concession. Nor is Christ's death by 
 
288 - 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 crucifixion rendered doubtful by the instance of the 
 surviving nun's crucifixion. Quoting from Dr. Me- 
 rand, he says of the two nuns, one of them affirmed 
 that to be the twenty-first time she had been volun- 
 tarily crucified. Because life does not become ex- 
 tinct by being repeatedly fastened to' a cross and 
 immediately removed from it, does it prove that 
 Christ, after hanging there three hours, and being 
 pierced to the heart by a spear, was still alive? 
 Were there truth in our reviewer's strange hypoth- 
 esis, how could the scores of predictions involving 
 Christ's death be disposed of? What possible solu- 
 tion would remain of the moral and physical phe- 
 nomena at the crucifixion? Nothing but the fact 
 of his death, involving its supernatural aim, could 
 account for his intense sorrow in the garden, the 
 overwhelming agonies of the cross, the rending of 
 the Temple vail, the three hours of total darkness, 
 the quakings of the earth, and the rising of the 
 dead saints. Did all these — the heavens and the 
 earth, the living and the dead — conspire to set their 
 terrific seal to the chicanery of the Governor ! In 
 the light of all this mighty attestation, how puer- 
 ile must appear all the carping of the reviewer ! 
 Indeed, were his position tenable, the whole scheme 
 of the New Testament would form a grand impos- 
 ture. Its sublimest motives being drawn from the 
 Eestorer's death, that is the stupendous center 
 about which all the doctrines and events of tlie 
 scheme circle. 
 
A EEVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 289 
 
 To invent a hypothesis^ therefore, showing the 
 unreality of Christ s death, is only the inception 
 of a herculean task of subverting the best-estab- 
 lished system of truth ever transmitted by human 
 records. A solution must be given of all Christ's 
 other miracles, which, like so many match-fires, 
 blazed in every city in the nation; of all those 
 of his apostles wrought in their risen Master’s 
 name; and a solution of that stupendous moral 
 revolution which consumed by the fires of Pente- 
 cost the superstitions of a hundred ages. But 
 could this mighty overthrow be accomplished, still 
 the deep yearnings of our moral nature would con- 
 tinue to demand another scheme, replenished with 
 every essential provision of this, so that the re- 
 viewer’s work is only completed when he has de- 
 molished the moral powers that invest our deathless 
 nature. 
 
 But we shall dismiss our reviewer after a single 
 glance at one more topic; namely, the resurrection 
 of Christ. He seeks to neutralize the testimony of 
 the witness as to this great fact by affirming the 
 ethereal nature of Christ’s resurrection body. To 
 this end was perverted the language of St. Peter, 
 where he says Christ was put to death in the flesh, 
 but quickened by the Spirit; making this language 
 mean that he was raised from the dead in a spirit- 
 ual, invisible body. How can such a meaning be 
 extorted from this text, which so palpably has a 
 very different application, simply meaning that the 
 
290 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 Spirit/s agency raised Christ's body from the dead? 
 How could the reviewer honestly thus confound the 
 manner of raising Christ’s body with the nature 
 of that body itself? But this is done not merely 
 without evidence, but in the face of evidence. Did 
 not the risen Savior claim to have the very body 
 in which he was crucified? Did he not put this 
 claim to the test of his disciples’ senses? How un- 
 mistakable is his language, Handle me and see, 
 for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me 
 havef' What force, then, can we award to that 
 allegation that ^Hhe disciples could not be witnesses, 
 as they did not know Christ by their senses, but 
 only by the symbolical act of breaking bread?” 
 Though we have experience in the trustworthiness 
 of the senses to recognize ordinary bodies, we have 
 no such experience to identify an ethereal, glorified 
 body with one that was once a human body. And 
 what Christian ever pretended that we have, or 
 that it was ever needed to identify Christ’s risen 
 body ? The reviewer first created the difficulty, 
 and then stumbles at his own origination. He 
 feigns the evidence of this partly in the disciples 
 being unable to recognize him, and partly ^^in his 
 vanishing out of their sight, and suddenly coming 
 to them through walls and doors.” But where is 
 there a glimpse of evidence that Christ ever passed 
 through a solid wall? His sudden appearance to 
 his disciples, the doors being shut, may not be 
 equivalent to his passing through them in that 
 
 I 
 
A BEVIEW OF THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW. 291 
 
 state. Why should an ethereal body be more 
 necessary to pass through a shut door than to 
 work any of his miracles prior to his death? This 
 ethereal theory is not among those innocent specu- 
 lations with which fancy may decorate revealed 
 truth ; it aims at the utter subversion of that 
 truth. By making Christs body unsubstantial, 
 it directly contradicts Christs assertion that ^Ct 
 was flesh and honest It assumes that his body 
 did not address his disciples’ senses; Christ affirms 
 that it did. It proclaims the apostles incompetent 
 to identify as a fact Christ’s risen body; Christ 
 ordered them to be his witnesses to all nations of 
 that fact. Indeed, St. Paul, by one sweeping argu- 
 ment, suspends the whole Christian system on the 
 reality of this one grand fact. (1 Cor. xv.) His 
 enumeration of the witnesses — his inference from 
 their united testimony — all assumed that the resur- 
 rection body addressed men’s senses. 
 
 After the repeated refutation of the older argu- 
 ment denying the competency of testimonial evidence 
 to authenticate- a miracle, oUr reviewer deemed it 
 less hazardous to accomplish the same end by trans- 
 muting the subject of the miracle into a mere phan- 
 tom. He is unanxious whether, like Hume, he 
 neutralizes the Christian witnesses by arraying the 
 alleged testimony of all men against theirs, or by 
 showing the worthlessness of their testimony by 
 reason of the ethereal nature of its subject. Our 
 closing utterance should be a note of warning to 
 
292 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 this whole, class of bold rejectors. They should be 
 premonished that their midnight task *is not com- 
 pleted by their plausible attack on any one Chris- 
 tian fact. The system they would subvert is vital 
 in every part; the evidences sustaining it are so 
 various in sorts, and so stupendous in degree, as 
 to elude the most threatening blows which wit or 
 malice can aim at it. 
 
XIY. 
 
 CHARACTER AS CONNECTED WITH SUCCESS 
 IN THE SACRED OFFICE : 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING CLASS OF THE 
 GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE FOR 1859. 
 
 Beloved Pupils, — Having now reached the point 
 where our ways divide, it is fit we should improve 
 the occasion by a few brief utterances. Your in- 
 structors, who have accompanied you with intense 
 solicitude through your course, find this hour of 
 your departure one at which their solicitude has 
 culminated. In harmony with the occasion permit 
 them through my lips to make . a few suggestions 
 on the momentous theme of ministerial character. 
 Were we seeking every-where for a test of minis- 
 terial success, where could it be found out of char- 
 acter? The appliances and particular processes by 
 which such character is formed are not now to be 
 discussed. The lights that guide to these have glit- 
 tered along the successive footsteps of your now fin- 
 ished course. What remains is simply to advert to 
 character as lying back of success in the sacred ofiice. 
 
 There can be no manifestation of the minister to 
 
 293 
 
294 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 which noble character does not bear a relation mys- 
 teriously cogent. It renders his speech living and 
 life-giving; it gives to words, those airy vibrations, 
 a spirit which transfigures them. Essential to the 
 development of our own sanctified manhood is 
 courage^ which calmly faces danger, looking the 
 foe fully in the eye without the palpitation of one 
 vein. This is a prominent element of that solidity 
 of purpose, energy of feeling, and success in achiev- 
 ing, which make life a success. It legitimately 
 flows from a well-elaborated Christian mind — from a 
 purified nature that is personal, ethereal, immortal, 
 self-directing, responsible — a nature whose all-com- 
 prehending relation is to Jehovah its source. This 
 moral courage is the spinal column sustaining all 
 that is noble and forcible in character. It consists 
 not in indifference or in occasional bravery; not in 
 insensibility to danger, but in a heroism to face it 
 while scanning it with the most vivid sensitivity. 
 This calm, life-pervading spirit is ineffably diverse 
 from that hasty, impulsive, transient bravery which 
 is without inspiration beyond an excited hour — that 
 has a higher source than the music of the martial 
 field or even the shouts of a nation's applause; it 
 can achieve its work in the awful presence of soli- 
 tude ; it can brave its sufferings when only God is 
 nigh; it can do this under the cloud of a nation’s 
 frown and amid the fulminations of its iniquitous 
 laws. The pending events of our nation, young 
 ministers, may soon demand of you an exemplifica- 
 
MINISTERIAL CHARACTER. 
 
 295 
 
 tion of this virtue, when you may be called to main- 
 tain a dignified silence— to be broken only when the 
 crisis shall come. Then must your courage operate, 
 preceded by no vaunting — serene as the Summer 
 evening, firm as the column of adamant, anxious 
 only to maintain the right. What characteristic 
 has been more prominent in the master-minds of the 
 race ? This has made the Husses, Luthers, and 
 Keplers the heroes of successive ages, and the en- 
 during monuments of human greatness. Every 
 grace of character and of life derives nourishment 
 from this virtue. It generates that deep and pow- 
 erful harmony on which all melodies play. This 
 makes the preacher far more eloquent than his 
 words. This living spirit is fed by communion with 
 the past — with prophets, apostles, martyrs, and with 
 the living head of the family of the universe. 
 
 But this heroism, which makes him fearless in the 
 face of the clamor, repudiation, and penalty of per- 
 secuting society, is allied to a sensibility, tender as 
 a mother's heart, and discriminating as the intuitive 
 glance. Being thus armed with the dignity of 
 duty, the power of unity, the pressure of demon- 
 stration, and with the tenderness of unsleeping sym- 
 pathy — being thus insphered in the very mind of 
 God — the speaker is resistless. What hearer will 
 not love to be mastered by him? 
 
 Another virtue which should shine in a preach- 
 er’s character is sympathy with human life. The 
 cell of the monk, or the solitude of the hermit, was 
 
296 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 never the appointed sphere of God's embassadors. 
 It is theirs to come in sympathetic contact with 
 living society, to be moved by its interests, prompted 
 by its inspirations, and assimilated to its likeness. 
 In human life is the mystery of God’s working — the 
 hiding of his power. The globe was created for its 
 residence, is preserved for its culture, and will learn 
 to light its grand assent to its last ethereal abode. 
 To be in full sympathy with such a personal essence 
 can not fail to kindle a teacher’s powers, to wing 
 his words, and to give pertinency and dignity to his 
 whole bearing. Insensibility to this great agency 
 would be treachery to our noblest instincts, and 
 would be untrue to the highest examples of history. 
 Allow me, young gentlemen, to verify by only a sin- 
 gle example — by that of the great Restorer. Who 
 was so adequate an appraiser of life as he who won 
 it back by death? His sympathy with it was too 
 intense for utterance. Its mystery filled his person. 
 He knew its depth; his golden compass had marked 
 its outlimits. Every-where he sought it out, ignor- 
 ing every accidental distinction. Let it never escape 
 his ministers that the instincts of his assumed hu- 
 manity identified him with our nature in all its sor- 
 rowing allotments, so that every sufferer found in 
 his great heart a place for his woes. Is it strange 
 that such a friend should win his silent way to uni- 
 versal confidence? This is the ^Gyped man,” in 
 whom alone the real and ideal meet. Where but 
 in the great Hebrew student shall be found his 
 
MINISTEBIAL CHABACTEB. 
 
 297 
 
 most perfect imitator? Paul dived so deeply into 
 the mysteries of life as to feel responsibility for the 
 moral rescue of universal humanity — to be a debtor 
 to Jew and Gentile — to those that had never even 
 seen his care-worn face. 
 
 The most marked men of every age have been 
 such as have most resembled him in this sympathy; 
 they have most deeply moved their own genera- 
 tions, and have rolled the wave of their elevating 
 influence furthest into the depths of the future. I 
 trust your experience will inform you how this 
 sympathy matures into a heart-hunger for the high- 
 est good of humanity; that it is confined to no sin- 
 gle mode of manifestation, to no one channel, but 
 that it permeates society, and finds an avenue in 
 every connection of life. You will then have not 
 only admiration for greatness, and reverence for 
 dignity, but compassion for the erring, and sorrow 
 for the bereaved, and especially for those on whose 
 foreheads are stamped the hieroglyphics of enduring 
 agony. 
 
 But at this point I must conjure you not to mis- 
 interpret the sympathy we commend. It is not a 
 soft, irresolute, cowardly spirit, averse to positive 
 character, winking at wrong-doing; its tenderness 
 is not exceeded by its magnanimity. If it has an 
 element of the dramatic, the poetic, the oratorical, 
 it also contains a large infusion of the heroic. It 
 invests the speaker with a power never exerted by 
 the mere pressure of thought. Thus are you to re- 
 
298 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 gard this mysterious life of man standing alone in 
 its majesty beneath the heavens. It is a spark 
 from the Eternal Mind — a nature containing, germ- 
 inantly, an endless history. As the statesman is 
 superior to the State, and the astronomer sublimer 
 than the mightiest orb he measures, so does this 
 life of man transcend all the events of his career. 
 
 Nor is a relish for the (Esthetic unimportant to 
 the Christian teacher. Without this taste he can 
 not be in harmony with the majestic and the beau- 
 tiful ; and as art is the interpreter and repre- 
 sentative of nature, to perceive beauty in the one 
 is to be in sympathy with the other. Could you 
 walk out into this palace of God unsmitten by its 
 decorations, unthrilled by the glories investing it, 
 you would pronounce it unworthy of the matchless 
 skill of the Architect. The very habit of a minis- 
 ter’s thoughts should make his inmost soul respons- 
 ive to the voiceful and inspiring creation. Has he 
 no eye for the multiform tints of nature, no ear for 
 the melody of her harp-like voices? — then is he 
 wanting in that sensitivity which is the highest 
 natural element of pulpit power. Let the model 
 minister — the Great Teacher in this regard — be 
 your example. What scene in nature did he not lay 
 under contribution to his ministry? ^^He overlaid 
 Palestine with the beauty of parable,” making its 
 matchless scenes eloquent of his heavenly doctrines. 
 
 Unless this taste for nature pervades the preach- 
 er’s spirit with its soft and mellowing sensibility, 
 
MINISTERIAL CHARACTER. 
 
 299 
 
 how can he drink inspiration from those scattered 
 lights which the breath of God has kindled over its 
 broad expanse? But when his eye sees its reveal- 
 ments, when his ear hears its mystic harmonies, 
 when his soul drinks her divine nectar'’ — then, 
 
 while his books furnish themes and his brain argu- 
 ments, the easy, majestic sweep of thought will well 
 up from the deep bosom of nature; then will his 
 arguments resemble the arch of heaven in deriving 
 their beauteous hues from what floats beneath its 
 bright expanse. 
 
 But to prevent undue extension, allow me to pass 
 abruptly from this topic to one of still higher im- 
 portance. I allude to that sympathetic enthusiasm 
 for truth with which God’s embassador should ever 
 glow. As truth is the ordained instrument for 
 man’s moral rescue, its heralds should never cease 
 to be bathed in its brightness. He should ally 
 himself, not to professional truth, but to all truth. 
 This ever fresh sensibility to truth both radiates 
 and invigorates character. Not that every class of 
 truth should be investigated in an isolated manner, 
 but in its vital relation to the great central truth 
 of your profession. Though all truth does equally 
 illustrate the cardinal principles of theology, yet 
 the remotest within the compass of human thought, 
 like the most distant stars, shed forth their propor- 
 tional light. The habits of candor, discrimination, 
 and catholicity generated by this large acquaint- 
 ance with truth are invaluable. Though truth is 
 
300 
 
 -LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 various as the unnumbered relations, of mind and 
 matter in the universe, it is still an organic whole ; 
 it is one empire with many provinces — one body 
 with many members. In its underlying principles, 
 in its highest generalization, its unity resembles 
 that of the Godhead. All beings, all forces, all 
 forms are connected by its golden links. No rival- 
 ships, no antagonisms can appertain to its different 
 departments. The light emanating from all points 
 intensifies the brightness of each central truth. 
 
 Sympathy with truth is a vital element, an intel- 
 lectual grace, and a source of beauty and weight to 
 all utterances. You can know only by experience 
 how much it will contribute to an accurately-bal- 
 ancing judgment, to expanding compass of thought, 
 to an acuteness in sifting analysis, and to the 
 depth of sensibility. This perpetual growth of all 
 your faculties can not fail to give a hidden charm 
 to every truth you utter, removing from it all 
 that is narrow and mere commonplace. You need 
 not look beyond these attainments for the source of 
 that commanding power by which master-minds 
 have swayed their ages. While they looked back- 
 ward through history, and forward through phi- 
 losophy, they looked upward to God; while their 
 thoughts were compact and their arguments sweep- 
 ing, their sympathy was glowing, so that the whole 
 sphere in which their souls moved was a crystal 
 concave 'Gighted with the thoughts of God.” This 
 you will find to be a process which, inverting the 
 
MINISTERIAL CHARACTER. 
 
 301 
 
 usual order, increases force as the sphere is ex- 
 panded in which it operates — diminishing the needed 
 effort as the labor to be performed accumulates. 
 
 But hastening toward a conclusion, I must detain 
 you only by another general remark. It regards a 
 vital adherence to righteousness. Am I right in 
 the unqualified assertion that none should enter on 
 the sacred office without a consummated conviction 
 that the most clement form of God’s government is 
 rigidly just ? Do you demand, then, how so much 
 partiality can diversify the present dispensation to 
 the race ? The solution is easy ; the present is an 
 economy of clemency ^ of forhearancCj of test, which 
 could never be endless, but must lose itself in the 
 retributive principles, in whose operations all wrongs 
 will be righted and all inequalities compensated. 
 All partialities are, therefore, preparatives to per- 
 fect equity — the one has its sphere in benevolencCj 
 the other in eternal justice. So far as benevolence 
 transcends justice it may be partial; but should it 
 conflict with justice, every attribute of God would 
 be arrayed against it. This principle of righteous- 
 ness underlies all phenomena and transcends all 
 formal enactments. The minister, therefore, ex- 
 pounds and advocates a government which can 
 never have pleasure, happiness, or utility for its 
 supreme end — which can never employ^hat policy 
 which places profit before justice, gain above godli- 
 ness — which can have no use for the arts and dis- 
 guises belonging to human chicanery. 
 
302 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 For what purpose does the pulpit stand but to 
 roll the thunders of justice against all such insults 
 of justice? Should it fail to do this, who can 
 fathom the depth of degradation which will over- 
 whelm a coming age? It may become your lot 
 to minister to a congregation which will virtually 
 prescribe the sins you should denounce by enjoin- 
 ing silence in regard to others. You may declaim 
 against the sins of the Jews, of the Pope, of here- 
 tics, but not against the falsehood, the treachery, the 
 licentiousness of our statesmen, of our party leaders, 
 of our domestic tyrants. That mouthpiece of Je- 
 hovah daring to rebuke these must be put under a 
 ban. By placing such restrictions on the pulpit, 
 the crying sin of the South has gained its colossal 
 proportions. That which God’s embassadors dare 
 not denounce they will ultimately defend. Such 
 has been the case in regard to the sum of all 
 villainies.” It first imposed silence on the sacred 
 desk; it then demanded support from that very 
 Gospel whose essence is the golden rule — the mu- 
 tual rights of all human beings. This completed 
 the grand apostasy, and prepared the way for that 
 unparalleled outbreak which has shocked the whole 
 civilized race. Had not the pulpit first ignored 
 this hugest encroachment on human rights, and 
 then advocated it in the name of man’s common 
 Father, the infernal rebellion would never have 
 dared to lift its head. What would have been 
 that minister’s attitude who was an intense lover 
 
MINISTEKIAL CHARACTER. 
 
 303 
 
 of righteousness? Would he not have obeyed 
 God rather than man?'’ Would not the whole field 
 of his vision been filled by his great Exemplar, 
 who died himself rather than justice should die ? 
 Having reached the point where ease, fortune, fame, 
 or life itself, or justice must be surrendered, would 
 he hesitate ? 
 
 Right he regards as the basis of the Infinite 
 Throne. The crowns, and robes, and harps, and 
 all the insignia of glorified humanity could not. 
 allure him into a betrayal of justice. • The greatest 
 achievements of ages are never apart from this un- 
 dying principle. It is the characteristic of the hero 
 who has really won immortality. Monuments which 
 have arisen to any lower principle crumble by the 
 waste of time, but those commemorative, of the love 
 of right defy the tooth of time and the crush of 
 worlds. As there is no attribute in God s nature 
 which this perfection does not regulate, so there 
 should be no faculty in ours which should remain 
 unsubordinated to its authority. From these sug- 
 gestions may we hope that this class will derive 
 improved views of the ministerial character ^ and 
 will go forth to practice upon them in their great 
 work; that each minister may see, in the most un- 
 clouded light, that his character involves that of a 
 well-developed manhood — noble as is his unearthly 
 theme — a fit basis of high Christian civilization? 
 To the attainment of this he should feel himself 
 
 quickened by the living voice from above, which 
 
 26 
 
304 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES* 
 
 commands; ^^Quit yourselves like men— be strong*^^ 
 Of that Christian faith which indispensably un- 
 derlies such a character I need notv here minutely 
 speak. Its nature, evidences, object, and scope, 
 with the place assigned to it in the saving scheme, 
 have been lucidly discussed in their proper places. 
 You know that it grasps God’s word, government, 
 and character; that it takes hold of God’s /edeeming 
 Son and sanctifying Spirit, and, therefore, it alone 
 can vitalize every virtue that decks the minister’s 
 character; that without it those virtues would be 
 cold and cheerless as the moon-beams on the ice- 
 berg; through that alone come the sun-bursts of 
 God’s smile upon his toiling servants. It can not 
 escape you, brethren, that this rapid sketch of 
 minister for the times'^ admits of large expansion 
 and much illustration. It is fervently hoped that, 
 in the practical works of your ministry, you will 
 fill up this outline. And leaving, as you now do, 
 those sacred halls toward which a thousand eyes 
 are turned with intensity, let me remind you that 
 this is the only mode in which you can best honor 
 them. Thereby you will bear a noble testimony to 
 the efficiency of the school of the prophets; to the 
 lofty and steady aim of its laborious Faculty ; to 
 the sublime wisdom of its sainted founder. You 
 will give to the winds the last doubt of its hesi- 
 tating friends, and another age will bless Heaven 
 that you were its inmates, and survived to be 
 among its noblest representatives. 
 
XY. 
 
 GROUNDS OF MINISTERIAL SUCCESS: 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED TO THE GRADUATING CLASS 
 WHICH HAD FINISHED ITS COURSE IN THE 
 GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE. 
 
 Beloved Pupils, — The part which you are about 
 to act in the ministerial vocation will ever look 
 back on that which you have already acted in our 
 sacred halls. Your discipline here has been pro- 
 spective of your elevated position there. The germ 
 of the pastoral character has been deposited here, 
 to be developed in its beauty and fragrance here- 
 after. What is now rudimental must then be ma- 
 ture. You have here explored the mysteries of 
 mind, that you may there find an avenue for truth 
 to its deepest recesses. You have here communed 
 with the past that you may mold the future. You 
 have been conversant with grammar, and logic, and 
 rhetoric, not to make them intruders in the pulpit, 
 but there to wield that truth by the might with 
 which they have clothed your arm. Those ele- 
 mental principles with which you have communed, 
 
 lying along the outwalks of thought, are not pulpit 
 
 305 
 
306 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 material, but instruments of mentaropulence. They 
 include particular truths, which are to be classified 
 under them, as the arch of heaven, spanning the 
 globe, includes all the separate objects on its sur- 
 face. The prospective relation of principle to prac- 
 tice is only equal to the retrospective relation of 
 practice to principle. There is in the Bible, or 
 pulpit, no one inoperative principle of truth. Prin- 
 ciple finds its importance in practice, and practice 
 its authority in principle. Should you cease to be 
 students when you retire from our halls, you will 
 tear asunder these which God has joined together. 
 The law of progression, inscribed in light on all 
 diligent minds, will operate in an inverted order 
 till every great light in the field of intellectual vis- 
 ion shall die away into twilight dimness. But kin- 
 dled by the love of Calvary, and obedient to t'le 
 great law of mind, requiring one ever to be exceed- 
 ing his former self, you will ally to your sacred 
 vocation all other interests in the sphere of your 
 being. 
 
 One of the strongest grounds of the minister's 
 success is his sacred and universal self-consecra- 
 TiON. To become a channel of spiritual light the 
 soul must be absorbed in spiritual aims. This in- 
 volves no rude sundering of social ties, no arro- 
 gance of the bigot, no cynic's scowl, no ascetic's 
 shirt of hair — not a hoarse murmur of seriousness. 
 These are utterly alien to this sublime dedication; 
 they form that dark thunder-cloud of superstition 
 
GROUNDS OF MINISTERIAL SUCCESS. 
 
 307 
 
 which may border the landscape of social gladness, 
 but form no part of the breathing picture. This 
 consecration of every power to the service of God’s 
 altar originates that hidden harmony which allies 
 the minister to the interests of his race. This ex- 
 alted position is a steep ascent, never attained but 
 by calling into requisition every faculty of the soul 
 and every grace from Heaven. It is the solitary 
 eminence in the whole moral field, where the in- 
 stincts are under the sway of that reason whose 
 light is fed by the perpetual oil of grace. Here 
 alone is security against recreancy to your obliga- 
 tions. Abiding here, you will instinctively recoil 
 from the approach of sin, as if your whole surface 
 were one retina of the most delicate net-work. You 
 will experience an inward development tending spon- 
 taneously to yield your enlarging faculties to God’s 
 service. This is that mighty spring, seated deep 
 within, that nothing can repress. Compared with 
 this all semblances of goodness are like a painted 
 sun to that blazing in the heavens — powerless as an 
 infant’s voice to recall the tenants of the tomb. 
 How can the odors of the rose breathe from the ar- 
 tificial flower ! Let this be an ever-abiding convic- 
 tion, that this vital recognition of the Infinite Pres- 
 ence is the only guiding pillar of fire through this 
 probationary wilderness. While this disinherits the 
 soul of doubt, of fear, of gloom — while it puts to 
 flight every element of weakness, it bathes the 
 whole scene of being in its own brightness. It 
 
308 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 makes every spot God’s residence; evejy moment a 
 golden grain of his Sabbath; every pulse homage 
 to his divinity ; every thought incense in his tem- 
 ple ; every deed a sacrifice in his service. Thus 
 arrayed with simplicity, and transparency, and en- 
 ergy, when you throw the chain of living truth 
 around the listeners, the Eternal Spirit will touch 
 it with the electric spark, and restored humanity 
 will rise up before you clothed and in its right 
 mind.” Monuments of your ministry’s saving efii- 
 cacy will not be wanting in earth or heaven, in 
 time or eternity. 
 
 But if the mysterious element of the minister’s 
 power lies in the depths of his own spirit, he must 
 make that power felt by sympathy with three very 
 different classes of objects — with the truth which he 
 wields, the mind he addresses, and the Infinite 
 Spirit on which he relies. You will allow me, my 
 dear brethren, to remind you, then, that unless 
 your highest powers are in harmony with God’s re- 
 vealed truth, a subjective weakness will pervade 
 every pulpit achievement. Should your faith stum- 
 ble at the depth of the most fathomless truths, that 
 inward infirmity will be inherited by all that hear 
 you. You must feel the power of your own un- 
 doubting belief in them, or your hearers can never 
 ^ feel it. Such must be your mental candor, integ- 
 rity, and discernment, as to confide equally in that 
 authoritative truth which has only external evi- 
 dence, as in that rational truth which glows in the 
 
GROUNDS OF MINISTERIAL SUCCESS. 
 
 309 
 
 light which itself emits. Full well you know that 
 all spiritual truth involves relations lying in a ter- 
 ritory beyond human intelligence; that faith, there- 
 fore, has its mightiest power in its moral element. 
 By this must you pass over that unbridged chasm 
 dividing the seen from the unseen — the material 
 from the spiritual— ^the made from the unmade — 
 and confidently traverse the region unexplored by 
 experience. It is this faith in the Word, which 
 feeds on the realities drawn from the bosom of 
 mystery, that girds the pulpit with power. The 
 elements in which this principle is operative are 
 the light of Calvary, the inspiration of Pentecost, 
 the fires of the eternal judgment. 
 
 But as the minister’s power is relative to the 
 mind on which it actSj he must come into commu- 
 nication with that mind. Without this sympathy 
 his richest endowments are wasted. In this great 
 field you will find acquaintance important with two 
 classes of objects — with properties and states com- 
 mon to all, and with those peculiar to each. The 
 volumes making these revealments are the Bible, 
 the preacher’s own experiences, and the recorded 
 observations of our profession, which, in all ages, 
 are most conversant with the inner man. From 
 this threefold source you will derive a skill to make 
 men rebuke their own errors, condemn their own 
 sins, and shudder at the gulf opened before them by 
 their own consciences, by the self-application of 
 those laws you expound in their hearing. You 
 
310 
 
 LECTUKES ANJj ADDRESSES. 
 
 will intuitively perceive whether a direct appeal to 
 the heart, or whether a side-light let in on it at a 
 certain angle, will be more efficient. 
 
 Another element of pulpit power you will find in 
 the deep sympathy of your moral nature with the 
 conscience of your hearers. The pulpit, more than 
 any other agent on earth, finds human conscience 
 the field of its achievements. Nor is there another 
 faculty of man invested with so much authority. 
 The way of access to this stronghold of our nature 
 must often be suggested by the preacher’s own con- 
 science. He must reproduce his former self when 
 passing through their various moral states' and thus 
 make their present condition his own. When thus 
 all hearts will seem to beat in your bosom, the 
 power to mold them will eminently clothe you. 
 You will often touch a deep spring in the soul of 
 the hearer by throwing out a single thought which 
 you perceive to lie within the precincts of his asso- 
 ciations. It is this profound moral sympathy which 
 gives everlasting freshness to the sternest lessons 
 of the pulpit. It was this power which gave the 
 loftiest designation to His ministry who was one 
 vast incarnate conscience. It was this that gave the 
 morally sublime its consummation in his thoughts, 
 words, life, and death. Let it be your secret power, 
 whether you rouse the slumbering, guide the inquir- 
 ing, or bind up the broken-hearted. 
 
 But we have reserved the last place in this address 
 to glance at a still higher object of the preacher’s 
 
GEOUNDS OF MINISTERIAL SUCCESS. 
 
 311 
 
 sympathy. Allusion is had to his reliance on the 
 Infijiite Spirit The combination of a double agency 
 in effecting man's spiritual rescue is a primary prin- 
 ciple in pulpit efficiency. There is no more fanati- 
 cism in an enlightened reliance on the Spirit's effi- 
 cacy than presumption in a proper reliance on the 
 speaker's skill. While moral suasion is the sphere 
 of the one, regenerating efficacy is the function of 
 the other. That moment the pulpit assumes inde- 
 pendent action of God's Spirit, the distance becomes 
 infinite between the means and the end. The sim- 
 ple motion of Moses' rod had as much adequacy in 
 piling in heaps the ocean depths as pulpit eloquence 
 in effecting conversions without the Spirit. Indeed, 
 the preacher can not do his own part without a felt 
 reliance on this agency. 
 
 It will be found by the most rapid glance at the 
 history of the pulpit, that the most distinguished 
 embassadors of God have been arrayed with these 
 three elements of power. They centered in Chry- 
 sostom, whose voice shook the capital of the empire; 
 in Luther, who was a tower of superhuman strength ; 
 in Baxter, who was the intensest flame of fire; in 
 Wesley, the very echo of whose voice will startle 
 far-off generations; in Hall, whose thoughts were a 
 stream of light, reflected and refracted by the rain- 
 bow power of his genius. They made Chalmers a 
 cataract whose stream rushed from the everlasting 
 mountains. These and a thousand more were in 
 
 deep communion with Truth, with the sorrowful 
 
 27 
 
312 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 heart of humanity, and with the Eternal Spirit of 
 the heavens. Mindful of themselves no further 
 than they were related to the spiritual rescue of 
 their race, they lived for Him who died for them. 
 My dear brethren, let me beseech you to regard 
 such, not as prodigies of departed and returnless 
 ages, but such as should ever be the occupants of 
 the pulpit. Our own age should embody its power- 
 ful principles here. Indeed, ministerial mind should 
 ever be in advance of its age. It should be the 
 great reflector to throw forward a light which shall 
 kindle in the bosom of the future. 
 
 Among the few other parting words to which 
 your teachers can here give utterance is the counsel 
 to be ever self-relying and God-relying, Let each 
 never depart from himself in the use of his powers. 
 Let him never lose his original mental traits. 
 Through whatever vicissitudes or advancements he 
 may pass, let his grasp be firm on his inwoven dis- 
 tinctives. God has no more cast all minds in the 
 same mold than he has caused all the globes in the 
 universe to run in the same path. There is an as- 
 signed station to every minister no less than to 
 every star. Another can no more do his work than 
 he can light up a sun. To neglect your own powers 
 because another's are better is to abandon the place 
 assigned you among the agents of the universe. It 
 is putting a mending-hand to what the skill of God 
 had finished. We entreat you, then, to let your 
 identity remain as changeless as your improvement 
 
GROUNDS OF MINISTERIAL SUCCESS. 
 
 313 
 
 shall be perpetual. All, then, will leave their paths 
 tracks of light, various, it may be, as that reflected 
 by the bow in the heavens, but beautiful and cheer- 
 ing as that emblem of ancient promise. In the fer- 
 vent hope, dear brethren, that each of you will thus 
 nobly act his part, in the midst of the remembrances 
 of this tender hour, we bid you an affectionate fare- 
 well. 
 

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XVI. 
 
 A MISSIONARY ADDRESS: 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION OF THE DEPARTURE OP 
 REV. MR. BAUME AND FAMILY FOR INDIA. 
 
 Mr. Chairman and Christian Friends, — I oc- 
 cupy to-night a place which would have been sup- 
 plied by higher arid brighter powers but for a single 
 event in my own history. Twenty-two years since 
 the throbbings of my brother’s heart were in my 
 bosom. It was not to India, but to South America, 
 I was destined. But though it is his to remove the 
 darkness of paganism, and was mine to vanquish 
 the superstition of Romanism, the similarity is suf- 
 ficient for commensurate sympathy. 
 
 May I then be permitted to direct your attention 
 to India, the field he is to occupy? It has been the 
 theater of many a drama — none more bloody than 
 that recently transacted. Few greater events have 
 transpired in man’s history than India’s revolt. It 
 has stirred the civilized world; it has bathed En- 
 gland in tears over the mangled corpses of her sons 
 ^ and daughters, and their little ones. It burst on 
 
 the Government like a clap of thunder from a 
 
 315 
 
316 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 cloudless heaven. The nation awoke, arose, and 
 shook off apathy. She kindled into the intensest 
 flame of retributive justice. To vindicate her in- 
 sulted honor, and to reestablish her profaned au- 
 thority, she blew the trumpet, rallying her most 
 puissant forces. Till now the nation, as a whole, 
 was unaware of her fearful responsibility in ruling 
 India. The mutiny was an earthquake; it shook 
 the British empire, but did not ingulf it. 
 
 When, and where, and how, and by whom this 
 fiery torrent should be arrested, was one of the 
 most anxious inquiries that had thrilled the throne 
 of England. There rests not on the shoulders of a 
 government on earth a weightier responsibility than 
 the prevention of its recurrence. England is indeed 
 the most effective representative of the progressive 
 tendencies of modern culture. By mutual interests 
 and free institutions she binds in the bonds of 
 brotherhood, more than any other nation, the fami- 
 lies of the globe. That her organ, the East India 
 Company, has failed to do for that ancient nation 
 what Christian hope had panted for is undoubted; 
 but the shift of power will make the future brighter 
 than the past. 
 
 None can glance at the history of that seat of 
 ancient nations without finding it imbued with an 
 air milder and graver than the romance of the 
 Orient. It is isolated from Asia, that cradle of 
 the race. It is a continent of itself. In population 
 it outnumbers mysterious Africa, joined with all 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 317 
 
 inhabiting both Americas. In its native resources 
 it has no equal. Its collected treasure was too rich 
 for exhaustion by a hundred desolating wars. A 
 thousand years before the great advent from heaven 
 Solomon's ships brought gold from Ophir; more than 
 two thousand years ago the wealth of India tempted 
 the cupidity of the Macedonian conqueror — Alex- 
 ander would have seized it but for the mutiny of 
 his phalanx. For long ages its marts supplied the 
 cravings of Roman luxury. When the first Mo- 
 hammedan invasion rolled its desolating flood over 
 India — tenth century — it returned loaded with 
 spoils richer than figures could compute. Though 
 this garden of the globe seemed desolated by this 
 flood which swept over it, it soon recovered its 
 bloom, and became again tempting to other con- 
 querors — even after it was weak as it was wealthy — 
 seducing as it was helpless. For the last eighty 
 years it has been held in the grasp of a commercial 
 islet in the Western ocean. While Europe, now 
 great in her seats of power, and science, and war, 
 and commerce, was one vast forest, India was the 
 home of Eastern civilization. There, far back in 
 the world's morning, mind had its largest develop- 
 ment. The science of Egypt was the younger sister 
 of that which had long before kindled its glories in 
 India. Her literature was more extensive than that 
 of Greece and Rome; her language — the Sanscrit — 
 is more ancient, euphonious, more copious, and more 
 philosophic than that with which Plato has charmed 
 
318 
 
 LEGTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 a hundred ages. It was parental to the ten living 
 and prominent languages now used in India — to the 
 Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Portuguese, German, 
 and Spanish. It is the key to all linguistic study, 
 excepting a few ancient languages first uttered in 
 the cradle of the race. 
 
 The aboriginals of this great peninsula have long 
 since sunk unknown in the ocean of ages, unless 
 some shreds of them make the wild tribes which 
 for two thousand years have dwelt in that mount- 
 ainous range, stretching across India, under the 
 tropic of Cancer. The southern half of India, 
 called Deccan, is a plateau, whose present people 
 entered it before Abraham came to Palestine. They 
 brought with them the germ of their unique future 
 civilization. The sacred book — the Veda — of this 
 ancient nation is the oldest and most authentic 
 ante-historic monument of the European branch of 
 the race. Indeed, this restores the historic rela- 
 tions of all the European families of languages. 
 
 The caste of India is the iron frame-work into 
 which the Brahminical polity forced that ancient 
 people. Long and arduous was the struggle before 
 success crowned it; but once obtained it was never 
 lost. Its overthrow has been attempted both by 
 arms and by argument. The assault made upon it 
 by Buddha is older than the Christian era. This 
 heathen 'protestant aimed an extirpating blow at all 
 the superstitious ceremonies of the hierarchy. His 
 new system spread like the waters of the Deluge; 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 319 
 
 but having atheism for its underlying principle, it 
 failed to maintain the triumph it won, and the 
 power of the Brahma has since been in the 
 ascendant. 
 
 But, friends, will you not recognize the tenacity 
 of caste for life, also, in its utter defiance of the 
 triumphal invader ? If Mohammedan sovereignty 
 for eight centuries was unable to shake this system, 
 what must be its hold on the nations! We concede 
 that Islamism is wanting in regenerating energy; 
 that, if it has an element of strength in maintain- 
 ing that God is one, it has a neutralizing element of 
 weakness in alleging Mohammed is God’s prophet; 
 but, if it were unable to link the ancient civiliza- 
 tion on to the modern — if it had no skill in re- 
 juvenating and reconstructing — it was armed with 
 mighty power for destruction. Stilly the system of 
 caste bore up against its desolating ravages. India 
 was a great battle-field, on which conflicts were in- 
 cessant between its old proprietors, its new masters, 
 and the wild tribes on its borders. The last great 
 Islam invasion — fourteenth century — made by Tam- 
 erlane, overbore and crushed all before it, excepting 
 caste. This remained unscathed in all its strength. 
 This it withstood as it had done all other shocks of 
 twenty centuries. 
 
 Though the East India Company has existed since 
 the sixteenth century, it has been a military power 
 for less than half that period. The history of its 
 last eighty years is alone in the annals of the race. 
 
320 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 It exhibits more of genius, more of heroism, more 
 of sacrifice, more that dazzles the imagination and 
 outrages credibility than all Europe can produce 
 during this period. That a business charter, given 
 to a company of shopkeepers, should be transmuted 
 into a title to hold the Empire of India, is not more 
 marvelous than the astounding means by which it 
 was achieved. These have furnished a theme on 
 which great orators have vied with the mightiest 
 men of their art in past ages. The world never 
 saw a series of more brilliant victories than those 
 achieved both in the field and in the cabinet. 
 Never before was there such a kingdom so gained, 
 so held, so lost, and so regained. 
 
 And, Mr. Chairman, would I could add, that 
 those who fought and conquered did not also plun- 
 der and oppress! But, though the laurels of the 
 heroes were not untarnished by the cruelties of the 
 tyrant, I can not entirely agree with the chairman, 
 that England has been utterly recreant regarding 
 her obligation to India, and that the bloody revolt 
 was a visitation of Providence. I believe that re- 
 volt was a series of high-handed crimes — that Prov- 
 idence restrains the effects of crimes, presses them 
 in other channels, and appropriates them to opposite 
 ends, but never instigates crime. The functions of 
 that Divine agency are to check, arrest, and re- 
 appropriate the deeds of darkness in this revolted 
 race. 
 
 Censure is due to England, but not unmixed with 
 
A MISSIONABY ADDEESS. 
 
 321 
 
 praise. Had her East India Company been Chris- 
 tian philanthropists, instead of being brokers and 
 usurers, its little agency would have been purely 
 good. But even then, what would one faint ray of 
 Christian light do toward dissipating the gloom of a 
 hundred ages. 
 
 As it was the English were but a single handful 
 scattered over a vast empire, in the midst of one 
 hundred and eighty millions of pagans, bound by 
 the iron fetters of caste, which all the forces of a 
 hundred ages have failed to dissolve. England and 
 all conquerors of India found in this mysterious in- 
 stitution of caste what they had found in nothing 
 else. They could conquer the arms of India, but 
 not the caste of India. That peninsula had bowed 
 to more conquerors than history has chronicled, to 
 more invasions and revolutions than would have 
 swept away any other civilization ever established 
 by man. But, in spite of all those desolating hur- 
 ricanes, caste has kept its place. Defiant as the 
 everlasting mountains, it stands unimpaired. The 
 many centuries which have contributed to the con- 
 solidation of that system — the unmeasurable power 
 of those agencies which have failed to subvert it — 
 the manhood vigor it retains after the battle of 
 thirty centuries — all prove its impregnable strength. 
 
 The face of India, physically, has changed. Her 
 successive conquerors have every- where left monu- 
 ments of their power in the roads, canals, temples, 
 and cities which they have made in India; but. 
 
322 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 though they could build cities in the midst of 
 mountains, and roll rivers over ^arid plains, and 
 turn realms of sand to blooming gardens, they 
 could not remove or substitute Brahminism. 
 
 India in her institutions has proudly stood self- 
 reliant at the grave of her empire. These are now 
 just what they were when Alexander invaded "their 
 empire. As now their four castes then existed. 
 The gods they then worshiped they now adore. 
 Then, as now, their widows mounted the funeral 
 pile — their fakirs, with hooks in their backs, swung 
 in the air. Kelee then, as now, received her mid- 
 night worship — the Juggernaut his noonday rides. 
 Thus have the pressure of foreign forces, the rush 
 of many ages, the fanaticism of triumphant Mussul- 
 mans, which have laid empires in their grave, left 
 the caste of India in her noonday glory. This sys- 
 tem, which flourished before Jupiter reigned — its 
 priesthood, whose claimed origin is the Creator's 
 head, are the only immutable things in that sun- 
 bright clime. 
 
 What, then, is that lesson which these stern 
 realities read to the Church? Is it to desist, to 
 withhold her missionaries, to quench the apostolic 
 zeal of Grod's embassadors? Directly the reverse. 
 We have proved that, out of the Gospel, there is 
 no hope for India. Now, let that other question 
 be settled — Is there power in the Gospel commen- 
 surate with this mighty resistance? 
 
 Listen to the echo of ancient voices. What says 
 
A MISSIONAEY ADDEESS. 
 
 323 
 
 the history of its early march? There we learn 
 that once it grappled with the gladiatorial games 
 of bloodthirsty Kome, with the wild barbarity of 
 Scythian tribes, with the superstitious exclusive- 
 ness of the selfish Jew, with the philosophic pride 
 of the supercilious Greek, and with the inveterate 
 corruption in libidinous . Corinth. What was the 
 part which the Gospel acted when antagonizing 
 with these giant powers? Did it not make the fe- 
 rocious Eoman mild as a lamb, the haughty Greek 
 meek as a child, the licentious Corinthian pure as 
 the robes of light, the wild Scythian tame and in 
 his right mind, and the exclusive Jew philanthropic 
 as the lofty soul of the missionary Paul? To the 
 end of the world its Author accompanies it; its 
 subjugating energy can not, therefore, waste by the 
 lapse of ages. 
 
 Because all other agencies have been too weak to 
 crumble the adamantine wall of caste, is it, there- 
 fore, impregnable to the Gospel of God? Is it not 
 the grand aim, the high mission of the Gospel, to 
 triumph over the wealth and wisdom, pride and 
 prejudice, power and policy involved in all possible 
 forms of sin? Let the Kestorer and the destroyer 
 have a fair field, and then let the battle rage ; will 
 not enlisted angels greet the result? 
 
 Do not the underlying principles of the Gospel 
 recognize the fatherhood of God and the brother- 
 hood of the race — principles which will strike down 
 that Vv^all by which priestly usurpation has divided 
 
324 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 society? The mysterious stone that crumbled the 
 image is but an emblem of that hidden power oper- 
 ating through the Word to shatter to fragments 
 these strongest holds of sin, which have been gath- 
 ering strength for forty centuries. 
 
 That Christ's charter should cover all nations is 
 a demand of prophecy no less than of the vivifying 
 and vitalizing principles of the Gospel. The most 
 stubborn resistance to the missionary's progress is 
 embodied in the religions of the race. These are in 
 three classes; they make the religion of the priest, 
 of the JEmpire, and of reason. That of the hie- 
 rarchal type we have found in India. It places the 
 highest responsibility of man in the priest, leaving 
 their supreme interests in the invisible state to be 
 adjusted by him. He, standing between them and 
 the mysterious powers above, becomes a bar to 
 their direct intercourse with the Father of spirits. 
 Thus this usurping representative cuts off all com- 
 munication of that grace by which alone the heart 
 can be purified. The religion of the Empire is not 
 less degrading. This subordinates to governmental 
 purposes the highest functions of the immortal soul. 
 It makes fidelity to God a means to that alleged 
 higher end of obedience to the magistrate. It thus 
 daringly inverts the order of means and end, by 
 substituting relations to man for those binding him 
 to the throne of God. It is the Gospel's function 
 to restore this ancient order, giving supremacy once 
 more to the Infinite Claimant. 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 325 
 
 Nor do we ht^sitate to pronounce the religion 
 of mere reason a device of the destroyer. To im- 
 pose on this unaided faculty the task of morally 
 rescuing revolted millions, is to require of the nat- 
 ural what is restricted to the Divine — to demand 
 of the offender that he find, unaided, his way back, 
 unsmitten, to offended Sovereignty. His proud re- 
 jection of the heavenly message is the function of 
 infidel philosophy, and had an early sway in the 
 Buddhism of India. All these groups of religions 
 that of Eevelation is ordained to vanquish. This 
 inculcates all religious truth, from what is fitted to 
 the earliest dawn of intellect up to its meridian 
 splendor — to all capacities, all cultures, all cli- 
 mates, all periods, and to all dispensations. Its 
 fundamental truths, like our great physical bless- 
 ings, come within all capacities — like the air, the 
 water, the light. Those, like these, may belong 
 alike to the savage and sage, to the peasant and 
 prince, to the slave and to the sovereign. 
 
 A distinctive element in the Gospel which your 
 missionary will propagate is its universality. Now, 
 to attain its destined bounds, movement is indis- 
 pensable. Of this its genius the Divine oracles 
 furnish striking emblems. They speak of the mus- 
 tard seed growing j leaven spreading, fire radiating, 
 wheels revolving, a stone from the mountain rolling, 
 an angel in the midst of heaven flying. You, Chris- 
 tian friends, will sustain me when I affirm the har- 
 mony is perfect between this genius of the Gospel, 
 
326 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 the end it would accomplish, and the felt duty of 
 its ministers to extend it. 
 
 A profound conviction of this duty is about to 
 sunder the ties that bind to our hearts our depart- 
 ing brother, who will now permit me to say to him, 
 as the mouthpiece of the Church: Go, dear brother, 
 as God’s messenger, far hence to preach the un- 
 searchable riches of Christ. To be unmoved by 
 the treasures you relinquish is impossible. From 
 your native and adopted lands you will be ex- 
 patriated ; from those bright and tender circles 
 ever encompassing the faithful pastor you will be 
 severed. There, especially, are your spiritual chil- 
 dren, whom you have inducted into the Eedeemer’s 
 fold, stretching out their beseeching hands and say- 
 ing, with tears. Stay for us. But separation will 
 not be a grave to these endearments; they will not 
 waste by distance. In this the law of attraction is 
 inverted; it grows stronger as the space enlarges. 
 A quarter of the globe’s circumference will make 
 you dearer to us than would a quarter of a league. 
 But distancej that bar to finite intercourse, will still 
 menace us with enduring separation. While the 
 same sun will beam on us by day, and the same 
 moon glitter on the mantle of our night, the same 
 beams of Christian association will cease to cast 
 their mild splendors on you. You, my dear brother, 
 will find humanity muifled in the deep gloom of 
 three thousand years — blighted by an idolatry that 
 crushes sympathies and kindles passions. You will 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 327 
 
 leave that boon which is the last relinquished by a 
 sensitive nature — congenial mind. 
 
 Here our temporary farewells are cheered by the 
 echoes they send back in speedy greetings; but the 
 farewell about to tremble on your lips will return 
 in no such greetings. Still, there is a hidden sense 
 in which those one in affection have one abode. 
 Their unity of soul supersedes proximity of body; 
 and when you shall have faded in the distance from 
 our sight — when your morning shall be our mid- 
 night — even then, in spirit, we shall be present 
 with you. For this mystic communion we shall 
 not pass around the Cape of Good Hope, but di- 
 rectly through the heavens. And when you shall 
 kneel alone on that gloomy pagan coast, and no ear 
 but God’s shall hear your voice, ours will mingle 
 with it in that great presence-chamber; there, there 
 we will meet you! 
 
 And now, on the eve of your departure, we will 
 unite to beseech God that his encompassing arms 
 may protect your person, your wife, your little one, 
 and your coadjutors from the stroke of accident, 
 from the attack of disease, from the hand of vio- 
 lence, and from the shafts of death; and that, when 
 the hour of probationary tears shall have fled, and 
 when on the heavenly plains new joys shall be kin- 
 dled by the greetings of long-parted laborers, may 
 thousands ransomed in India rush to your embrace, 
 and hail you as their instrumental savior ! 
 
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 THE FIELD OF MISSIONS : 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE MISSIONARY SOCI- 
 ETY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 OF CHICAGO. 
 
 Me. President and Friends, — The theme on 
 which I am to address you being the field of mis- 
 sionsj a defect of unity of thought and elevation of 
 style will be excused. When the Lord of the vine- 
 yard affirmed that 'Hhe field is the world/' he made 
 it commensurate with all the generations of our 
 race; and when he appointed all these to be hearers 
 of his Word, the appointment involved the means 
 ^of its universal dissemination. These means were 
 purified and commissioned men, such as with whom 
 it would be congruous for Jesus to abide to the end 
 of the world; their implements are the utterances 
 of Jehovah’s mouth; the seed they deposit in the 
 moral soil should in the promised harvest multiply 
 a hundredfold. Though the sowers of this seed are 
 mortals, the reapers of the harvest shall be angels. 
 Its growth has the long Summer of ages, its matur- 
 ity shall be in the world’s great Autumn. The first 
 
 sheaf of this human harvest was taken off Joseph’s - 
 
 329 
 
330 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 tomb — the last shall be found in the ultimate gen- 
 eration of man, and shall be caught up in the 
 clouds to meet the Lord in the air.” Then shall 
 the whole harvest of the globe be brought to the 
 eternal garner with more than earthly shouts; but 
 these sowers and reapers employed by the Husband- 
 man will meet his approval and gain the reward of 
 their agency. This great harvest, which was sown 
 on various soil, which germinated and grew under 
 raging storms, shall gain its full maturity beneath 
 a broad and cloudless orb glowing in a new heaven. 
 But it should not escape us, that we are now not 
 rather to survey the field of our toil than to antici- 
 pate the results of that fidelity with which we 
 should cultivate it. It will be convenient to glance 
 at this field in two great divisions — at that portion 
 lying in the Neio World, and at those portions lying 
 out of the Western hemisphere. 
 
 In estimating the claims of ^Hhe home field” on 
 the Church, we must ascertain the supplies, the 
 facilities, and the obstacles- of this field. Till re- 
 cently — till the great rebellion was inaugurated — 
 we had regarded the lofty destiny of the New 
 World, only awaiting the disclosure of the future as 
 it seemed palpably written with a pen of fire on the 
 adamantine leaves of time; but the great volume 
 had only commenced unrolling, when we were ap- 
 palled by a murky cloud which shades that destiny. 
 The indication that this land was reserved to work 
 out a mighty moral problem seemed clear as if 
 
THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 331 
 
 given by God's own finger. The peerless increase 
 of our population, swelled by an immigrating tide 
 flowing by millions from the Old World, promised 
 to make this a nation of nations; but how suddenly 
 has the gulf yawned beneath our institutions, men- 
 acing their very existence! The demon of bloody 
 discord, unchained from its confinement, seems des- 
 tined to complete its work of ruin in ^Ghis land of 
 the free," to which the oppressed of every clime 
 had repaired to assert their manhood; but these 
 guests from distant climes found in our midst one 
 institution which, like fire in a palace of ice, was 
 dissolving our civil fabric. Long had we gloried in 
 our self-sustaining Christianity, alleging the proof 
 of its inherent vitality, as displayed in the volun- 
 tary support which upheld it. But anarchy, which 
 is at once the offspring of revolution and the parent 
 of despotism^ has its antecedent already attempted, 
 and its sequence may soon be upon us. Should it 
 come, who can say that the altar of God may not 
 - soon be chained to the throne of the tyrant, and 
 the liberty of conscience be found among the things 
 which have departed? A military despotism alike 
 erects a scaffold for patriots, and kindles the faggots 
 for martyrs. But what shall be the appropriate 
 agency to prevent such a result, and to perpetuate 
 our institutions, and to reassure our nation’s hope? 
 A calm and piercing wisdom in our legislature, 
 answers the statesman. Immaculate purity in our 
 courts of justice, responds the jurist. Dauntless 
 
332 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 bravery and surpassing skill in the field of confiict, 
 says the warrior. But history, assuring the Chris- 
 tian that all these may be baffled, he eagerly in- 
 quires, May there not be lying back behind all 
 these secondary means a more puissant agency? Is 
 not our ultimate conservative that balm which is to 
 heal the wound of the world? — that living Gospel 
 which recognizes the fatherhood of God and the 
 brotherhood of man? But, despite the disastrous 
 events now pending, the New World will still con- 
 tinue a thrilling object of missionary enterprise. 
 When the storm of war shall have restrained its 
 rage, millions will again rush to our shore from the 
 nations of the older continents. The broad, and 
 deep, and various channels through which these 
 foreigners shall flow to our shores — coming over 
 the Atlantic and Pacific, from the West and from 
 the Orient — will make the American family repre- 
 sent all the families of the race. We can already 
 enumerate Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Ireland, 
 Spain, France, Africa, and China, which will not 
 amount to a tithe of those sores of foreigners who 
 are represented among us by more than eighty 
 spoken languages. Among these are found all 
 grades of superstition, from the semi-heathenized 
 Catholic to those utterly pagan from the very heart 
 of China. Along with these comes a class still 
 more to be commiserated; I allude to the French 
 and German infidels. They would dethrone the 
 Almighty Mind, and raise the universe itself to 
 
THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 333 
 
 supremacy. We may not be aware of all the allure- 
 ments that draw and all the forces that impel these 
 strangers to our shores, but we can not be unaware 
 of the design of that Providence which sends them 
 among us. 
 
 Glance with scrutiny at the superstition of the 
 semi-paganized Catholic, at the midnight gloom of 
 the pagan Chinese, and at the reckless audacity of 
 avowed infidelity. The aggregate of these classes 
 are counted by millions; they throng our cities; 
 they are diffused over our rural districts; they 
 must absorb or be absorbed; they must make us 
 like themselves, or themselves be made like us. 
 What, then, is our Gospel provision to secure this 
 assimilation ? The living mass in our great metrop- 
 olis swells to more than half a million. Our pul- 
 pits there do not exceed two hundred, conveying 
 the Gospel to not more than one in five — to a pro- 
 portion unequal to our native population. But if 
 four-fifths lie out of the sphere of Gospel infiuence 
 in that most favored city, what must be the condi- 
 tion of those less favored — those stretching over the 
 vast space between the most Eastern cities and the 
 Pacific Ocean? Can the Church vindicate her pol- 
 icy in so sparsely manning these centers of popula- 
 tion? Can there be any foreign interest competing 
 with that of those millions perishing at our very 
 door? The Catholic class of these foreigners form 
 a perfect organism. The concert, the steadiness, 
 and the success with which it pursues its aim is no- 
 
33 i 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 torious. Its history for the last five centuries is 
 alone among human annals. Within that period it 
 has grappled successively with four tremendous 
 forces, and triumphed in every conflict. No cor- 
 rupt system has ever before proved itself so puis- 
 sant an energy in society. Of this compact organ- 
 ism nearly one-sixth of our entire population is 
 composed. At the head of these four millions are 
 placed nearly two thousand priests, whose word is 
 law, whose will is destiny, whose curse is perdition. 
 Their asylums, schools, colleges, theological semi- 
 naries, and confessionals are the instruments of 
 their formidable power. These agencies, operating 
 in perfect concert, are so thoroughly anti-American, 
 anti-Protestant, and anti-Christian, as to constitute 
 a subversive agency periling the institutions of the 
 New World. To this strength how sadly dispro- 
 portionate are our hundred missionaries among 
 these millions, making only one missionary to forty 
 thousand ! It is true, the proportion is greater to 
 the twenty thousand Swedes, the thirty thousand 
 Welsh, the fifteen thousand Swiss, the seventy-five 
 thousand Norwegians, and to the ten thousand Chi- 
 nese. This is also true of the one million two 
 hundred thousand Germans, French, and Spaniards, 
 and of the one hundred thousand Mexicans in our 
 territories. Still, the proportion of missionaries 
 operating on all these is fearfully small. 
 
 Allow me to propose, as the second object of our 
 home enterprise, the fourteen millions of our abo- 
 
THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 335 
 
 riginals in the two Americas. Our great inherit- 
 ance was once theirs. The rapidity of their de- 
 crease has a parallel only in the rapidity of our 
 increase. Aside from the African race, none on the 
 globe has been more peeled and crushed. The mere 
 mention of the millions that, in the South American 
 mines, sunk to a premature grave, is heart-rending. 
 Only scattered fragments remain of all those tribes 
 which once employed fifteen hundred languages. 
 And in North America they have successively re- 
 tired before the pale-faced invader, till they stand 
 trembling before his ruthless violence on the brink 
 of the Western Ocean. Most of the tribes in the 
 United States and territories — seven ty-five thou- 
 sand — are now accessible to the missionary. Nu- 
 merous of these communities are now inviting fields 
 of Gospel labor, not one-fifth of which are now oc- 
 cupied. I know that the exterminating sentence of 
 these gloomy wanderers has long since been pro- 
 nounced by the voice of events ; but shall they sink 
 to the grave of forgotten nations — shall their sun 
 go down behind the hills of eternity without our 
 letting in one beam of the Star of Bethlehem to 
 gild the midnight hour of their doom? We must 
 respond to that authoritative demand, whether our 
 energies shall be exhausted on the Kafiir, the Hin- 
 doo, and the Hottentot, to the utter neglect of the 
 Blackfoot, the Flathead, the Camanche, the Pata- 
 gonian, and the Esquimaux? 
 
 But the African race in the New World forms 
 29 
 
336 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 another object of our enterprise within our national 
 precincts. Nearly four millions of these are slaves; 
 half a million are nominally free, but in several of 
 the States they find no place for the soles of their 
 feet. For all these five hundred thousand not a 
 white missionary labors. Of our relations to the 
 millions in bondage I dare not trust myself to 
 speak. Never before did the light of Goshen and 
 the night of Egypt dwell so long in juxtaposition. 
 Here is the blackest cloud that ever canopied a 
 pagan allotment, and yet it is fringed with the 
 light of a peerless freedom and a pure Christianity. 
 Never before did the sun shine on such a spectacle. 
 Though one in twelve of these bondmen are in the 
 Church, how mutilated is the Gospel they hear; 
 while the great mass, apart from this small frag- 
 ment, are wrapped in an unmitigated darkness ! 
 Am I, then, required to prescribe the mode in 
 which the Gospel may reach them? On this I 
 must be silent till the plan of Providence in this 
 rebellion shall be further unfolded. When the 
 trumpet of freedom, blown by the lips of authority, 
 shall send its shrill blast over the whole circumfer- 
 ence of slavedom — then when the jubilee shall have 
 come, and the living echo shall fly, and be propa- 
 gated by the mighty shout of emancipated mill- 
 ions — then will the Gospel have free course through 
 all this realm of heathendom. I know this bloody 
 revolution was inaugurated to rivet and eternize 
 their fetters; but He that sitteth in the heavens 
 
I 
 
 THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 337 
 
 shall laugh — his hand shall strike off those fetters. 
 But we have delayed too long on our own mission- 
 ary field at HOME ; let us merely glance at the claims 
 of the foreign field on the Church. 
 
 Among the thousands of the West India Islanders 
 there are only three hundred and sixty-two mis- 
 sionaries and less than eighty thousand members. 
 The Pacific Islands, sixty years since shrouded 
 in pagan gloom, have now one hundred and forty 
 missionaries, about one thousand helperSj and more 
 than fifty thousand members. On the Western 
 coast of Africa, where the horrors of the slave-trade 
 had long deepened the gloom of heathenism^ are now 
 one hundred churches, fifteen thousand members, 
 and as many more native youth in Christian schools, 
 and the Bible in more than twenty languages. 
 This populous continent, next to India, is throwing 
 open its wonders to the eye of science, and promises 
 soon to become the broad theater of aggressive 
 Christian movement. In Turkey, where Islamism 
 is working out its great experiment — where it has 
 occupied more than a thousand years in testing its 
 institutions, and where, in the very garden 'of the 
 globe, it is rapidly dying — there, where the door is 
 now open to our missionaries, we have but seventy- 
 six among this mass of one hundred and forty mill- 
 ions of Mussulmans. The paralytic shock which 
 fell on paganism prior to Christ's advent seems to 
 have smitten Mohammedanism. A thousand mis- 
 sionaries, ready to be martyrs, should now he there. 
 
338 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 We must next refer you to the stupendous mass 
 of humanity crowded together in China, and in- 
 quire how many Christian agents have the Churches 
 sent to save these four hundred millions? The re- 
 ply is chilling when the answer is less than two 
 hundred, including all their native helpers — less 
 than one missionary to two millions of pagans. 
 
 Passing in silence the millions of Catholics and 
 the smaller fields in Scandinavia and Germany, let 
 us advert to India. Exclusive of the Archipelago 
 of Thibet and Siam, which have but fifty-one mis- 
 sionaries, that populous land, older in science and 
 more perfect in language than Greece itself— the 
 parent of all the classic tongues, and rivaling in 
 antiquity the theocracy of Palestine — this ancient 
 land, within whose precincts the rebellion has just 
 been crushed out, is now eminently open to the 
 Gospel. Nearly five hundred missionaries, with 
 nearly four times this number of helpers, are now 
 cultivating that great field. But what are these, 
 with their thirty-three thousand members, and the 
 Scriptures in fourteen languages? What are these 
 among two hundred millions bound in the adamant- 
 ine chains of caste ? More than two thousand years 
 that wall of steel has been enlarging in its propor- 
 tions. All the subverting influence of revolution 
 and conquest has failed to crumble it; under the 
 whole heavens there is but one agency adequate to 
 this achievement — that is the Gospel power wielded 
 by your missionaries. 
 
THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 339 
 
 But these details must be concluded by a general 
 statement or two. Of all the one thousand five 
 hundred and thirty-six missionaries in the foreign 
 fields, only four hundred and eighty go from the 
 American . Churches ; consequently, one thousand 
 and seventy are from the Protestant Churches in 
 the Old World; so that our Churches are exceeded 
 by more than a hundred per cent. The sum total 
 expended annually for all foreign missions is less 
 than four millions. That which all Christendom 
 spends annually for war averages eight hundred 
 millions; so that two hundred times as much is 
 spent for the destruction of men as is devoted to 
 saving them. The disproportion is still more as- 
 tounding between the number employed in the bat- 
 tle-field and the mission-field. Here are fifteen thou- 
 sand missionaries employed to enlighten six hundred 
 millions of heathens; and these millions are pass- 
 ing away at the fearful rate of ninety-two thou- 
 sand per day; equal to four thousand per hour — 
 more than one each second. Who shall arrest this 
 tide of souls in its fearful plunge? Will not hearts, 
 fired by the love of Calvary, pant to do this at any 
 sacrifice? Would they not do it, though sure of 
 falling on the scorching sands of Africa, or of 
 bleaching their bones under the burning sun of 
 India? 
 
 Permit me now to close this address by a rapid 
 glance at the missionary relations between the home 
 work and the foreign work. The law of Christian 
 
340 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 agency can not be out of harmony with the law of 
 social agency. This law graduates obligations by 
 proximity; this nearness may be in consanguinity, 
 in contiguity, or in other facilities of mutual action. 
 We can not be unaware that the genius of the moral 
 system makes its first requisition for self-culture. 
 The practicability of the second requisition to cul- 
 tivate others is suspended entirely on fidelity to the 
 first. Each must acquire the qualities, the excel- 
 lences he would communicate — must possess them 
 before he can transfer them. Such are Christian 
 graces inherently as to operate vigorously as they 
 can do it successfully. Self-improvement is social 
 improvement; self-neglect is social neglect. This 
 is the principle which requires the individual to 
 work outward toward the circumference — through 
 the domestic and neighborhood spheres toward the 
 more distant objects. The same order is appointed 
 to regulate Church agencies. Its own spirituality 
 is first an intrinsic glow; next the vicinity feels the 
 contagion; then it pervades the larger sphere; then 
 in its outward course, mingling with kindred influ- 
 ences, it swells into a tide which rolls beyond the 
 bounds of Christendom to assimilate dark nations 
 into the likeness of the Christian Church. The 
 missionary spirit, then, does not kindle the life of 
 the Church, but is kindled by that spirit; it is not 
 its cause, but its index. The one is the fountain; 
 the other is its stream. These may reflexively 
 augment their source, but can not originate their 
 
THE FIELD OF MISSIONS. 
 
 341 
 
 source. The course of action in every living or- 
 ganism is from the center outward, not from the 
 circumference toward the center. Feebleness at 
 the deep seat of life generates inefficiency at the 
 extremities; the inactivity of the limbs results from 
 the weakness of the heart's palpitation. The radia- 
 tions of heat must ever be in proportion to the 
 volume and intensity of the flame. In obedience 
 to the same law is the divergency of light which 
 so beautifully symbolizes the spirit of missions. 
 
 Indeed, all vital power which mysteriously “per- 
 vades every thing living in the universe, acts from 
 the center, and fills a sphere whose extent is the 
 measure of its inherent vigor. Mark this phenom- 
 enon of Christianity at its inception ! So intense 
 was the holy flame kindled at Jerusalem, that with- 
 in one short age its radiations pierced the gloom of 
 whole nations. Did the American Churches glow 
 with that apostolic ardor, this continent would be a 
 lofty lamp -stand from which the sacred flame would 
 flash over all heathendom. How, then, shall our ef- 
 * forts be made commensurate with our object? By a 
 boundless confidence in the Gospel, and by a hope- 
 lessness in all other means — a profound conviction 
 of its fitness to the nature, the character, and the 
 condition of the race — a confidence in the compre- 
 hensive truths it involves, such as the unity, the 
 corruption, and the ransom of the whole species. 
 All other remedial schemes may be classed in the 
 three systems; namely, the religion of the Empire, 
 
342 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 the religion of the 'priesthood^ and the religion of 
 unaided reason. By analyzing the elements of 
 these it is easy to see that they must have been 
 put to the test of unsuccessful experiment. The 
 first pressed man's religious nature into the pur- 
 poses of tyrannizing over him ; the second, for self- 
 ish ends, usurped the Creator's place by the 
 pretense of being God's vicegerent; the third su- 
 perseded all revelation from Heaven by proclaiming 
 the sufficiency of mere reason to pierce the arcana 
 of eternity. The Gospel stands alone as a remedy ; 
 it does not ignore man's relapse, but provides for 
 his restoration, irrespective of climate^ or color, or 
 age, or sex, or any other possible circumstance. 
 Unlike the ancient religions of the Ganges and of 
 Scandinavia — which to perish needed but to ex- 
 change places — that of the Gospel fiourishes with 
 equal bloom amid the perpetual snows of Russia and 
 in the long Summers of the tropics. Let us, then, 
 make the extension of this everlasting Gospel com- 
 mensurate with its applicability. Let us rest not 
 till the whole earth becomes an altar, the afiections 
 of the transformed race an offering, and the love of 
 Calvary becomes a kindling fire — till from every 
 heart that throbs in a human bosom pure incense 
 shall arise to our crucified and matchless Restorer. 
 
XVIII. 
 
 A MISSIONARY ADDRESS: 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE DEPARTURE OP REV. J. R. DOWNEY 
 AND WIFE FOR INDIA. 
 
 Mr. President and Friends, — The enterprise 
 which has convoked us once occupied the Trinity 
 in council — not a mission from America to India, 
 but a mission from heaven to earth; the missionary 
 was not our brother with his companion, but God’s 
 Son with our wedded nature; it was not for the re- 
 demption of a nation in Asia, but for the ransom of 
 all that inhabit the globe. But all this difference 
 between the species and genus removes not the 
 kindredship between them. Every missionary is a 
 worker together with God. His acts look back to 
 the redemptive principle, and his achievements are 
 illustrations of that principle. We have reached a 
 period in which Christian missions to foreign lands 
 are largely approved, though by different parties 
 this approval is on various grounds. A large class 
 approving them do it solely on secular grounds. 
 The greater thrift which Christian missions have se- 
 cured to pagan communities has come to the knowl- 
 
 343 
 
344 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 edge of sucli through foreign travels, missionary- 
 reports, and kindred sources. The domestic com- 
 fort, neighborhood schools, printing-presses, hospi- 
 tals, and churches, have made mission stations an 
 oasis in the desert. The contributions they have 
 made to geography, natural history, and to geolog- 
 ical phenomena have extorted the eulogies of these 
 secularists. 
 
 Meantime missions have been considered on an- 
 other side by mere philanthropists. Such eulogize 
 them in their literary aspect. Finding that 
 scores of languages, otherwise unknown, have by 
 the missionary been reduced to alphabetic order 
 and handed over to the multiplying agency of the 
 press, that large contributions are thus made to 
 comparative philology, and that ethnology has been 
 improved from the same source, he regards missions 
 as the handmaid to literature. Viewing missions 
 from a still higher point, the philanthropist, with a 
 benignant eye on the elevating processes of the 
 school, the press, and the Church on the pagan 
 mind, pronounces missions the friend of man, judg- 
 ing that whatever vanquishes beastly degradation, 
 and rekindles the light of long-extinguished reason, 
 must be an unmitigated good. 
 
 The development of such facts has compelled even 
 the freethinkers of England to pronounce eulogies 
 on missions. The Westminster Review — that me- 
 dium for English deism — ignores tha,t living spirit 
 from which missions derive all their energy, and 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 345 
 
 yet declares their 'Hrue object is the hope of rais- 
 ing whole nations out of a state of idolatrous 
 corruption in morals into a condition of Chris- 
 tian civilization.” How unequivocal must be these 
 sublime results of missions to extort such praise 
 from such a source! Still, merely their human 
 characteristics are here recognized; they termin- 
 ate the crimes, the cruelties, the superstition of 
 paganism — being an element of social power. How 
 consistently these gentlemen eulogize the workings 
 of this institution, and vilify the principle from 
 which it derives all its energy, we leave others to 
 determine. To sneer at the cause and eulogize 
 the legitimate effect; to suppose the Gospel merely 
 humaUj and yet to allow that it works out a result 
 to which no other human* means are adequate; to 
 allow that it strikes at the root of deep-seated vice, 
 and yet itself is merely a temporary good; to do 
 this may be v/orthy of deism. What will such 
 thinkers answer when you put the questions direct : 
 Are not the highest interests of man those of his 
 spiritual nature ? Are not his noblest relations 
 such as bind him to a wasteless future? Must not 
 his moral elevation of character demand a propor- 
 tionally-higher allotment in the endless future which 
 is bursting upon you? Must they not deny to man 
 a nature surviving dissolution, or cease to elevate 
 his mere civilization above that etherealizing, moral 
 purity which allies him to the Great Unseen? 
 That the Gospel assumes an adequacy to refine the 
 
346 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 polluted is obtrusively clear on the very face of it. 
 If this power do not invest it its claim is an impos- 
 ture, and it could, therefore, never impart the boon 
 of civilization which- even, infidels award to it. It 
 must do less than this, or it must be able to do 
 immeasurably more. The monstrous conclusion 
 reached by this secular theory of missions must not 
 escape us — it is this: that idolatry alone needs to 
 be vanquished, and that, therefore, it does not in- 
 volve the most degrading vices. Biblical descrip- 
 tion and direct observation combine with ancient 
 history to show that idolatry is but one of the 
 manifestations of the profoundest heart corrup- 
 tion. The nations of Canaan, the Cities of the 
 Plain, are divinely represented festering in their 
 pollution, as specimens of idolaters. No new proof 
 can be demanded that polytheism and corruption 
 are commensurate. No true picture of idolatry was 
 ever without the most revolting features. That 
 drawn by Inspiration (Rom. chap, i) is peculiar to 
 no age or country. It is true the lapse of twenty 
 centuries has deepened the colors of that dark pic- 
 ture. The dreadful leprosy, instead of fading, has 
 become more deeply struck within. When Echart — 
 the missionary to Hindoostan — read to his pagan 
 audience St. Paul’s catalogue of pagan vices, they 
 confessed the exactitude with which the reality 
 among themselves corresponded to the delineation 
 of the apostle. ^^None but a personal observer of 
 heathenism,” adds the missionary, ^^can grasp the 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 347 
 
 full import of those inspired epithets, or pronounce 
 them with appropriate depth of emphasis.” 
 
 It is not possible that the murky cloud which has 
 shaded pagan lands should not have grown denser 
 through all the past apostolic ages. When the 
 celestial message first stirred the stagnant mass the 
 resistance was fierce, but its scope for accumulation 
 since has been fearful. This class fearfully blunder 
 in the conclusion that the absence of virtue is not 
 the presence of vice. Were this so perfect neutral- 
 ity in morals would be possible, leaving a highly- 
 endowed intelligence irresponsible. The secular 
 theory of missions in question is, therefore, amaz- 
 ingly superficialj not having a single apprehension 
 commensurate to heathen character. Had the Gos- 
 pel no higher aim than to civilize it would certainly 
 fail to do this. It proclaims the regeneration of the 
 heart to be its paramount aim. If it can not effect 
 this it is an imposture, and, as such, can not do the 
 other. That must be a strange view of God’s gov- 
 ernment which supposes it can employ duplicity to 
 work out its ennobling designs. Indeed, were there 
 truth in the secular theory no missionary would 
 ever enter the foreign field. The speculating trav- 
 eler might enter it to listen with a curious ear, or 
 inspect with an eager eye, the novel scenes of be- 
 nighted humanity; he might flit over such a realm 
 like a butterfly across a flowery field, but never 
 would he patiently toil with the benighted to van- 
 quish his ignorance and reconstruct the processes of 
 
348 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 liis faculties. The history of the world may be 
 challenged to furnish a single instance of all the in- 
 fidels or skeptics on earth ever sending a single 
 missionary to accomplish for the heathen that civil- 
 ization which they deem the highest object of the 
 Gospel. The fact is that the great element of power 
 which works deep down in our nature is utterly 
 wanting in their Wintery scheme. They seem in- 
 stinctively aware that the moment the secondary 
 effect of the Gospel is substituted for its primary 
 aim — the instant the reflex is put for the direct — 
 both vanish together. Indeed, the stupidity is 
 scarcely endurable of supposing that the reflex in- 
 fluence could survive for one moment after the 
 primary aim is canceled; after the cause is anni- 
 hilated, how can the effect continue to arise from it? 
 
 This broad fact, then, is highly significant; name- 
 ly, that the advocates of this secular theory have 
 never, in one instance, experimented on its eflicacy : 
 this alone strongly indicates their conviction of its 
 powerlessness. They admit — ^through the Westmin- 
 ster Eeview — that ^Ghe Christian motive, above all 
 others, impels the missionary on in his work of sac- 
 rifice;” but how can this motive, which they main- 
 tain to be false, be the most cogent within the 
 sphere of philanthropy? Is the moral system such 
 that its interests are best promoted by falsehood? 
 They allow that nothing but Christian conviction 
 can create an imperative feeling- of obligation to fly 
 to heathen rescue ;” and yet this conviction is one 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 349 
 
 only of pitiful self-delusion. If, as is here conceded, 
 the temporal calamity of benighted nations can not 
 rouse enlightened races to relieve them, and their 
 rescue from eternal agony can, is this more quick- 
 ening motive a false one? Must all the true mo- 
 tives within the range of thought fail to prompt to 
 the highest achievements of humanity, and self-de- 
 lusion alone be competent to do it? Restore the 
 process to its Scriptural order, by making the sal- 
 vation of the soul the supreme aim, then the co- 
 gency of the motive accounts for the loftiness of the 
 achievement, and for eveiy incidental effect arising 
 from so godlike an aim. The work of the mission- 
 ary is to let into pagan mind light above the bright- 
 ness of the sun; not in its blinding floods, but in 
 its growing intensity; not so much for their 
 perception of guilt — of this they are agonizingly 
 aware — but for their discovery of a remedy of 
 which they have never heard. Conscious they are 
 of the wrath with which the heavens frown over 
 them ; but how that wrath can be made to melt 
 away into a Divine smile they know not. The 
 missionary utters the Divine Restorer’s name, the 
 gloom breaks away, and new ends of existence start 
 into light. His simple assurance that God can bo 
 just and the justifier of him that believeth in Je- 
 sus,” gives a new element to repentance, justifying 
 power to faith, and an infinite object to hope. 
 Christian missions multiply and intensify saving 
 motives. They give to the benighted the Bible, 
 
350 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 the Sabbath, the ministry, and the Church, 
 Each of these is a powerfully-modifying agency, 
 and together they soon work out for a community 
 a new social system. That gloom is soon van- 
 quished which concealed the purity of God's justice, 
 the sanction of his law, the depth of his mercy, and 
 the sublime mystery of the incarnation. But these 
 spiritual discoveries are so far from precluding an 
 incidental end that they necessarily issue in it. 
 What produces inward purity to the converted pa- 
 gan through this secures to him outward thrift. 
 This effect can no more be substituted for the cause 
 than the order of the two can be transposed. The 
 powerful operation of the Gospel on the civil and 
 social relations of man is through the viewdess 
 agency working on the inner man — the one is sim- 
 ply the outward manifestation of the other. The 
 fountain becoming pure, the streams are sweet; the 
 character of the fruit corresponds with that of the 
 tree; the purity of life flows from the sanctity of 
 the heart, and not, as our theorists would maintain, 
 a manifestation in the outer man of what was not 
 in the inner man. 
 
 But as India is the destination of these mission- 
 aries, a few utterances regarding that ancient land 
 may be proper. In one aspect India is interesting — 
 there Hindooism stands alone, as it has stood for 
 thousands of years; it is the fact of a living an- 
 tiquity of a high order. What other human institu- 
 tion of so early date has not long been among the 
 
A MISSIONARY ADDRES^. 
 
 361 
 
 things that were? But for the perpetuating voice 
 of history it would now be as though it had never 
 been. But this Hindooism, hoary with the frosts 
 of a hundred ages, is now what it was when Alex- 
 ander invaded the Indies. What must be the rigor 
 of that system which has sustained that physical 
 and intellectual life of the nation in spite of its 
 crushing errors and abominable idolatry ! This in- 
 stitution, stretching through so large a portion of 
 man's history, makes India a field of interest to all 
 earnest inquirers. Here the ethnologist finds scope 
 of his researches. Here the Scriptural interpreter 
 and antiquarian will not be disappointed. Compar- 
 ative philology no where else finds more materials 
 than in India. There lies the Sanscrit, dead but 
 unburied, the parent language of all the classic 
 tongues. Of little less antiquity is the Tamils in 
 its two dialects. This is the depository of all the 
 science, literature, and religion of the land. Here 
 is that Hindoo philosophy to which, as to its source, 
 the ancient Greek philosophy is traceable. Of Pla- 
 to's philosophy it is truly asserted ■ that ^^he made 
 the Orient its basis and the Occident its super- 
 structure." This mysterious Hindooism hinges on 
 many Bible facts and truths at numerous points. 
 In its earliest stage it synchronizes with some of 
 the remotest events recorded of the postdiluvians, 
 embodying many of the characteristics of Abraham, 
 Moses, and of Noah, and those of many other Bible 
 
 worthies. These the archaeologist will trace to their 
 
 30 
 
352 
 
 Li;CTUBES AND ADDKESSES. 
 
 sacred source, and will be amazed to find at the 
 basis of this system of monstrous error some of the 
 great truths revealed from heaven. Among these 
 are monotheism, the souhs immortality, the great 
 redemption, and the like. But these are so inter- 
 mingled and diluted with debasing error, or so con- 
 cealed by false metaphysics, as to be powerless to 
 save, while they impart vitality to the errors which 
 debase them. But stereotyped as Hindooism has 
 been for many ages, it has internal evidences that 
 it was long in a forming state. Vishnu is often 
 represented by it as crushing the serpent’s head, 
 and as being wounded by it — where the allusion is 
 direct to the first page of man’s moral history; 
 while there are not traces wanting of the apostolic 
 agency in that ancient land, showing that centuries 
 measured the growth of Hindooism. Tour mission- 
 aries may exhume these fragmentary truths from 
 the rubbish of two thousand years, and appropriate 
 them to the great purposes of their mission. But I 
 must not terminate these remarks without a few 
 utterances to these self-sacrificing missionaries. 
 
 My dear brother and sister: the peculiarity of 
 our present meeting is derived, in part, from the 
 speed and permanency of our parting, and, in part, 
 from the grandeur and solemnity of the object 
 which separates us. You have now reached the 
 point where your pilgrimage with civilized man 
 must terminate. Your departure, though not to 
 another planet, is to another continent, where hu- 
 
A MISSIONAJIY ADDRESS. 
 
 363 
 
 manity is all unlike its phases with which you have 
 been acquainted. There the rigorous Winter of 
 heathenism has for thirty centuries been congealing 
 the moral sympathies of the nations ; there the 
 utter perversion of man’s noblest powers has been 
 almost completed. How far you will be shocked in 
 comparing this bright eminence on which the sun 
 of revealed light pours its floods, with that dark 
 valley on which no beam has fallen, experience must 
 declare. In reaching the grand purpose of foreign 
 missionaries you have doubtless enumerated the en- 
 deared objects you are to leave — the tender associa- 
 tions of life’s morning — the bright objects which 
 your own young affections bathed in their radi- 
 ancy. Still, there is a binding unity which is de- 
 fiant of both space and duration ; that unity be- 
 longs to the system under which we act, to the 
 kingdom we promote, and to the agents of our re- 
 deeming Sovereign; that unity will be ours after 
 thousands of miles shall have divided us. When 
 we shall no more hear your voices, or see your 
 faces, or listen to the footfall of your returning 
 steps — then, when we shall bow at our Christian 
 altars, and you kneel amid pagan temples, our 
 voices mingling with yours, will, in the highest 
 heavens, reach the same ear and the same heart. 
 
 The Church, then, through my lips, would bid 
 you go far hence, and, as her messengers, to grap- 
 ple with the giant power of idolatry — to face the 
 storm and breast the flood — to bravely toil and, if 
 
354 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 need be, to die for the name of the Lord Jesus. 
 And with one fervent, importunate, and perpetual 
 prayer, the Church will ask that his grace may in- 
 spire you, and that when the bright array of his 
 servants shall homeward return, who have culti- 
 vated many a field on the darkest pagan shores — 
 that then the stars in your crown may be numerous, 
 shining forever and ever to your Master’s honor. 
 Under the pressure of these mighty claims you will 
 not be detained by those numerous voices which 
 say. Stay for us. Among these voices is the tender- 
 est sound — not from the companions of your youth- 
 ful pilgrimage — not from your classmates in school 
 or Church — not even from your younger brothers, 
 who tearfully say. We shall see our sister no 
 more — but from those parental lips which quiver 
 in the utterance. There, behind the parents’ vale- 
 dictory words, lies a depth of emotion which no line 
 has measured, which no distance, no duration can 
 exhaust; there it glows in its ineffable intensity 
 and beauty — through the lapse of years, change of 
 manners, loss of fortune, decline of health, and dis- 
 tance of place — through all the mutations of time — • 
 there it glows warm and quenchless as the sun in 
 the heavens. There is no love which exceeds it 
 but that of the Eedeemer. 
 
 May he who gave his Son to ransom the hea- 
 then sustain these parents who give their daughter 
 to apply that ransom! 
 
XIX. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY WORK: 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED ON THE DEPARTURE OF REV. 
 P. T. WILSON AS A MISSIONARY TO INDIA. 
 
 Mr. President, — The occasion that has assem- 
 bled us is not aimless; it borrows grandeur from 
 the object we would promote. This is the third 
 occasion within a sinde term on which our tears 
 
 o 
 
 and triumphs have mingled. The third member 
 of our Institute has just uttered his farewell on 
 his departure for the same distant field. By this 
 threefold cord the '^School of the Prophets’’ will 
 long be strongly bound to the mission in India. 
 The same great field has been entered by laborers 
 from our sister institution of Concord — that brilliant 
 ^^star in the East.” Indeed, the noble superin- 
 tendent of that mission acquired his discipline and 
 imbibed his divine philanthropy in a kindred in- 
 stitution beyond the stormy ocean. Should this 
 school — founded by that sainted lady who has 
 ascended to a hight from which she can watch 
 the field it supplies — continue to furnish mission- 
 aries in the same ratio, before the flight of a single 
 
 355 
 
356 - 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 century they will occupy a field on which the sun 
 of Nature never sets. Ascended sister, never shall 
 a commissioned youth pass from our halls to pagan 
 shores without making our praises to Him who 
 prompted your contribution to his preparation ! 
 Should the mysterious laws of departed saints 
 permit your scrutiny of what is now passing, we 
 bid you hail as a participant in our joy, and as 
 the divinely-prompted instrument of this joy! 
 
 And permit me to remind you who are benefi- 
 ciaries of this munificence, that in the great mis- 
 sion of life sacrifices and honors are commensurate; 
 especially is this so in the history of the Christian 
 ministry. When the minister aims at little he ac- 
 complishes less; when he sacrifices nothing he wins 
 nothing; when he dares to cast away nothing for 
 his Master he accomplishes nothing for the race. 
 But resigning the whole world, with its wealth 
 and wisdom, pride and pleasure, ease and power, 
 he writes his name in letters of light high on the 
 scroll of sacred honor. So that to lose nothing is 
 to gain nothing, and to sacrifice every thing is to 
 win every thing. 
 
 When the Macedonian conqueror with his noble 
 phalanx landed in Asia he ordered the destruction 
 of his fleet, deeming the destruction of his forces 
 less calamitous than their cowardly flight. In ac- 
 cepting this appointment, my brother, you must 
 also cut off all means of retreat from the conflict. 
 Like Caesar, having passed the Eubicon, victory or 
 
THE MISSIONARY WORK. 
 
 357 
 
 defeat is a stern necessity. You are the messenger of 
 the Church, through which its great Head says, Be- 
 hold, I send thee far hence!” Since the ancient East 
 has unbarred its thousand gates to God’s heralds, 
 the heart of the Church has throbbed for its speedy 
 enlightenment. She looks with strained eyes, with 
 fervent hope for the apostolic achievements of her 
 messengers. Their failure would extort her groans; 
 their success kindle her rapture, and accelerate the 
 world s moral rescue. You will not regard me as 
 placing an extinguisher on your zeal when I advert 
 to the twofold aspect in which it is possible to re- 
 gard the missionary enterprise. It has a romantiG 
 side and an evangelical side. The poetry of foreign 
 missions glows and charms in the incipiency of the 
 enterprise. In the weeping farewell of a thousand 
 kindred voices, in the wild scenes of an ocean voy- 
 age, in the new stars kindled in the canopy of a 
 strange heaven which may arch the distant field, 
 in the development of hitherto unknown character- 
 istics in man as a pagan, in the intense gaze of ten 
 thousand eyes fixed on the far-off heroic stranger — 
 in these and kindred novelties the most alluring 
 charm may be felt. But this romance is only the 
 prelude, not the scene to be enacted. No sooner 
 does the stern reality of the work become a matter 
 of experience than the bow fades from the heavens, 
 and its bewitching beauty becomes a sullen blank. 
 The reality of your work will be cold, exhaust- 
 ing, and revolting. You must first pass that great 
 
358 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 gulf dividing between your language and that in 
 which you are to deliver your message; you are 
 next to master those ancient manners and customs, 
 those peculiar habits of thought and complicated 
 superstitions, which are stereotyped by the indura- 
 ting processes of ages; these have choked almost 
 every avenue of truth to the heart. 
 
 In spite of all these obstacles, the change to be 
 wrought in individual minds is greater than the 
 revolution of a kingdom. In the face of these 
 sternly-resisting influences — which have accumu- 
 lated vigor for thousands of years — your work is 
 to reconstruct society on a new substratum. Nor 
 is it unfit, my brother, to premonish you of the 
 contrasts between your ministry here and in hea- 
 thendom. Here you sustain to society the relation 
 of affinity; there of repugnance. Here the very 
 air is redolent, sweetened by fragrance streaming 
 from higher worlds; there it is poisoned by the 
 odor of superstition, which ages have intensified. 
 Here the minister's hope of success is kindled by 
 the graciously-quickened state of men's moral sensi- 
 bilities; there these susceptibilities have been wast- 
 ing for ages under the dreadful blight of obdurating 
 superstition. But in the midst of all these appall- 
 ing obstacles you are to labor in hope; because 
 you are allied to an agency to which no obstacle 
 is insurmountable — an agency involving an all-com- 
 prehending atonement, an all-embracing promise of 
 its efiiciency, and the unity of all branches of the 
 
THE MISSIONARY WORK. 
 
 359 
 
 race — an agency proclaimed by ancient promise, 
 and described by evangelical history. Though this 
 agency may seem slow, still is it sure in its opera- 
 tion. The seed you shall sow may require more 
 than a Summer for the production of a harvest; 
 in the Lord’s harvest-field ages may intervene be- 
 tween sowing and reaping; but the germinant vi- 
 tality of the seed you deposit in pagan soil, like 
 that of the wheat in the Egyptian pyramid, may, 
 after the lapse of ages, be productive. Watered by 
 the sower’s tears, and fanned by the Spirit’s breath, 
 and quickened by the beams of the eternal sun, it 
 shall arise in a golden harvest, and finally wave 
 before the angelic reapers. And, if not before, 
 when the lights of time shall grow dim with age, 
 the fruit of your labor, like distant chroniclers, 
 shall record your achievements as connected with 
 a thousand others who shall have contributed to 
 the redemption of India. 
 
 And now, my dear brother, at this parting hour 
 we would profoundly feel with you that it is not in 
 the distance of place or of time to sunder or even 
 weaken the ties of kindred minds. Though these 
 are strengthened and brightened by identity of 
 habitation and frequency of intercourse, yet what 
 is essential to sanctified humanity is defiant of 
 mere circumstances, and can appropriate such as 
 are most malign to its own elevation. Even the 
 distance of time and place may become a medium 
 of augmenting our mutual interest. This mysterious 
 
360 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 distance, which adheres only to the finite, is power- 
 less to extinguish that Christian love whose origin 
 and aliment are in the Infinite. Like the atmos- 
 phere of the globe, the sympathy of heavenly minds 
 binds all to their great center. We shall be apart 
 in body, not in mind — in persons, not in purposes. 
 On that far-off shore, where superstition has long 
 reigned alone, you will doubtless feel the moral 
 chill of a midnight hour upon you. This may 
 even intensify when )mur work is done — when you 
 shall lie down to die; for then the past becomes 
 present, and you will contrast the bright visions 
 of this Gospel land with that starless sky which 
 canopies those pagan realms. But other visions 
 will also open on that hour of transition — as the 
 field of your toil had been dark, the heavens that 
 opep above you shall be bright. Go then, my 
 brother, with the blessings of the Church accom- 
 panying you, to toil, and sacrifice, and die in that 
 same enterprise which brought the great Eestorer 
 from the highest heavens. 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY ADAPTED TO EFFECT MAN’S 
 REDEMPTION. 
 
 AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE MISSIONARY SOCI- 
 ETY OF LAWRENCE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 • Mr. President and Friends, — The great cause 
 of Christian missions which has convened us de- 
 rives its importance from the cardinal truths which 
 it assumes. Among these are the religious faculty 
 of man, the moral blight which has fallen on his 
 nature, the sovereign remedy for that disease, the 
 universality of man's susceptibility of that remedy, 
 and that the living Voice of the commissioned her- 
 alds is the appointed channel through which it is 
 to be applied. That numerous schemes have been 
 invented to repair this depredation we are certain. 
 We would test their right to the claim by a com- 
 mon standard. That, and that only, which proves 
 itself fitted to the restoration of the morally fallen 
 can endure the test It must be truthful in all its 
 relations to the universe, as those relations are no 
 less in harmony than the attributes of the God- 
 head — any restoring scheme in conflict with them 
 must be spurious. Its apparent adaptation to re- 
 
362 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 store a part of men and not all men would either 
 be the denial of the unity of the race, or proof of 
 its own falsity. Whatever secures the adaptation 
 of religion to one man must to all men — whatever 
 fits it for one class must for all classes — for one cli- 
 mate, can not fail to do it for all climates — for one 
 age, for all ages. It must find no invincible ob- 
 stacle in the whole range of human history. It 
 must be intelligible to the masses because they are 
 the masses — the majority. If the mind in its very 
 structure requires evidence of what it believes, a 
 religion to save it must place its proofs on the low- 
 est level of human intelligence. But here you will 
 not mistake me by supposing the presence of evi- 
 dence is the absence of mystery. The evidence of 
 Divine truth is seen less in itself than in the mira- 
 cles that authenticate it. This is the proof we 
 claim for the Gospel you are sending to the hea- 
 then, and it is the very proof we deny to all sys- 
 tems competing with the Gospel. ^^Superstition'' 
 is the cognomen of all uninvested with this super- 
 natural proof. We deny 'it to ^^Islamismf which 
 for ages never pretended to be founded on miracles. 
 We deny it to the Papacy, which, as a hierarchal 
 scheme, rests on the most monstrous usurpations, 
 superseding the highest provisions of Christianity, 
 claiming those very prerogatives which it vilifies. 
 
 But is there not an intelligibility in the Chris- 
 tian faith when studied merely in its own unvar- 
 nished records ? It has a fullness of proof in those 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 363 
 
 facts and principles which have been gathered and 
 evolved by the toil and talent of ages; but it also 
 has convincing evidence spread like a sheet of 
 light over the face of its records. I will dare to 
 ask you what earnest inquirer ever pored over the 
 four Gospels without finding the truth of their con- 
 tents in the manner of their statements — without 
 finding that inefiable truthfulness which, like the 
 intuition of sense, has its proof in itself? What 
 earnest inquirer ever studied the picture they draw 
 of the inner man without the spontaneous exclama- 
 tion, This is the very heart which beats in my 
 bosom! Inde^, there is not a lesson of this kind 
 taught by these Oracles which is not fully corrobo- 
 rated by conscience. The lessons they both teach 
 on the nature of morality are not many, but the 
 •'same. The same, principle underlying God's Ora- 
 cles and man's conscience throbs with the pulsations 
 of divine life. In the nature of these evidences is 
 thus found the adaptation of the scheme to the 
 masses of the race. This suggests that other point 
 of adaptation which it has to the poor. They, 
 being the majority of men, could, by a divinely-re- 
 storing system, never be left unprovided for. A 
 prophetic characteristic of the Gospel was, it was to 
 be preached to the poor. Till this great elevator 
 came through the gates of light to uplift humanity, 
 what indignity was not done to the poor? — the 
 tools of ambition, the instruments of luxury, the 
 victims of oppression, the objects of bitter scorn. 
 
364 
 
 LECTUKES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 were they. But Christ had no sooner lighted on 
 the globe than the scene changed. By his scheme 
 all men were placed on an equal footing in the in- 
 herited elements of their nature — all were shown to 
 be equally rich in susceptibilities of moral govern- 
 ment and of endless bliss in the highest sphere of 
 glorified humanity. Had it not thus grouped to- 
 gether the entire race, its final failure must have 
 been utter. The moral deliverer of this class is 
 made a thousand times more welcome by the crush- 
 ing burden which had previously pressed upon it. 
 
 Another characteristic of a religion for the race 
 must be such as will work out for it mutual rights. 
 
 As the fatherhood of God must involve the brother- 
 hood of man, it must recognize the common apos- 
 tasy, the common redemption, the common heav- ^ 
 enly succor, so that it may be adequate to bestow, 
 not equality of circumstantial condition, but an 
 equality of human rights. Though these have been 
 confounded by the advocates of heathen caste in 
 Christian society, their distinctness is too palpable to 
 admit of discussion. When the spirit of our Chris- 
 tianity has thoroughly permeated the race, then 
 will its injunction. Love thy neighbor as thyself, 
 become a universal realization. The Christian sys- 
 tem regards the domestic and civil institutions 
 no less of God than the Church organism; so that 
 parental authority and law-enforcing power are 
 divine, and Christianity demands, with trumpet 
 tongue, that all do that toward others which ^^s 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 365 
 
 just and equal!' Could it sanction oppression it 
 would be founded in tyranny, and must flee away 
 at the approach of the Great White Throne. But 
 its radical principle is a thunderbolt to crush all 
 usurpation. 
 
 In characterizing the Gospel which you send to 
 the heathen, I must not fail to advert to its re- 
 storing provisions. This remedial distinctive is not 
 incidental, but fundamental to it. Every heart 
 painfully knows that as soon may the shadow for- 
 sake the substance as apprehended penalty be apart 
 from felt delinquency. If violated government and 
 free pardon ever concur without the overthrow of 
 authority, redemption must interfere. But whence 
 redemption? The solemn echo answers. Whence? 
 All voices were silent. The Divine utterances on the 
 theme were so shrouded in symbol that it required 
 the fulfillment of prophecy to certify its import. 
 A clear solution of the enigma was finally made by 
 the Restorer's own mysterious appearance, which 
 made it certain that God could be just and the jus- 
 tifler of him that believeth in Jesus — that the ends 
 of penalty could be answered without the infliction 
 of penalty. Because the elements of this stupen- 
 dous scheme can be scrutinized only as facts and not 
 as connected parts of a measureless whole, this does 
 not impair its efficiency, as it is a necessity of lim- 
 ited minds grappling with depths beyond them. 
 Should it not suffice to know that Jehovah can be 
 both just and exorable — that broken law can be up- 
 
366 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 held without the infliction of its penalty — that the 
 offender can have impunity without becoming auda- 
 cious — that justice and pardon can harmonize when 
 their cooperation is preceded by repentance? Is it 
 not enough to grasp these thrilling facts without 
 being able to trace the ethereal connections between 
 them ? This redemptive characteristic of Chris- 
 tianity clothes it with a grandeur and solitude 
 which must forever keep it apart from all other re- 
 ligions, and leave it alone adapted to the race. 
 
 Cast a piercing glance at the Papacy, and you 
 will see that it virtually rejects these merits by 
 making them availing ^^only on the ground of pen- 
 ance'' — at Mohammedanism, and you will find that 
 expressly rejects them by affirming that God se- 
 cretly took Christ to heaven, and that another died 
 in his stead, leaving the faithful to be saved through 
 their own sufferings. Nor will you find in all the 
 modifications of heathenism a shadow of this fun- 
 damental redemptive principle. Its whole interces- 
 sory provision consists of intermediate demons, not 
 furnishing a ground of man's access to God, but 
 merely a means of it — not on the Kestorer's 
 death, but on the offender's tortures must he rely. 
 The extent to which these pacify conscience is pro- 
 claimed by the midnight horrors of their bloody 
 ' rites. 
 
 Another characteristic of a universally-applicable 
 religion is its intrinsic provision for self-propaga- 
 tion. Many a system-maker has theorized beauti- 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 367 
 
 fully on the fittest means morally to elevate the 
 race. The artSy social institutionSy litcraturCy and 
 commerce have all been eulogized as the mighty 
 means of man's perfection. Their claim may be 
 tested both historically and intrinsically. Indeed, 
 in both these regards they have been tested, and 
 the failure of the experiment has been complete. 
 
 But the Gospel never enthrones itself in the ex- 
 perienced heart without generating the fervid de- 
 sire for its universal diffusion. A beam of light 
 was never more aggressive in the territory of dark- 
 ness than the felt Spirit of Christ in the bosom it 
 sways. 
 
 The deistical sympathizers with the Westminster 
 Eeview — number for 1856 — eulogize missions, from 
 a secular stand-point, as the civilizers of savage hu- 
 manity'' Now, we have no conflict with these 
 gentlemen on this question ; we concede the fact 
 that missions civilize savages; we maintain, with 
 the philologist, that they extend the knowledge of 
 languages — with the philanthropist, that the school. 
 Church, and press vanquish the horrors of pagan- 
 ism; but we also maintain, with St. Paul, that the 
 Gospel translates men from death to life. How 
 shall we characterize these freethinkers, who lavish 
 their praise on these legitimate workings of the 
 Gospel, and stigmatize the Gospel itself as mere 
 superstition— awarding to it the highest power of 
 social regeneration, and yet sneering at it ^^as re- 
 quiring an easy faith," as though sweet streams 
 
368 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 could emanate from a bitter fountain ! That theory 
 makes the monstrous assumption that polytheism 
 may be apart from pollution — that idolatry does not 
 necessarily involve degrading vice. Though this is 
 in the face of all history, and of innate tendency, 
 still is it vital to the theory. It rejects the Gospel 
 power to renew the heart, while it proclaims its 
 agency to reform the manners, ignoring the fact 
 that the absence of virtue is the presence of vice — 
 that neutrality in a moral agent is an impossibility. 
 
 Let me challenge the freethinkers of every age to 
 identify a single instance of a missionary being sent 
 by them to civilize the heathen. Believing, as they 
 do, that civilization is the highest boon to man, 
 why have they never employed an agency to bestow 
 it? This fact betrays a secret want of confidence 
 in all reformatory agencies which leave the heart 
 unchanged. Well may you confide in that grand 
 scheme to improve the lower nature and narrower 
 interests of men, which, from generation to genera- 
 tion, has poured a flood of purity on the myriads 
 of the ransomed. 
 
 But the SUBJECTIVE fitness of the Gospel should 
 not escape us. Unlike all other religions, the tend- 
 encies of its facts are in harmony with the re- 
 quirements of its precepts. These precepts, though 
 often most particular, accord with the fundamental 
 principles. How nicely it adjusts its claims to our 
 sensitive nature, interdicting alike austerity and 
 licentiousness, is seen by its utmost avoidance of the 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 369 
 
 opposing extremes. It dwells on the Divine moral 
 perfections in a manner exactly adapted to raise 
 our moral nature to the same elevation, present- 
 ing the exercise of his benignity as our model. Its 
 relation to human conscience is entirely unique, 
 adapted to secure both its activity and tranquil- 
 lity , both of which have never coexisted under the 
 management of any other system. Christianity 
 satisfies our moral sense of justice, which is so 
 shocked by the inequality of God’s administration 
 to society; showing us that this being the proba- 
 tionary and not the retributive state, the law of 
 compensation will operate in the life to come. 
 
 The Gospel you send to the heathen indicates its 
 claim to deserved universality by its nicely-adjusted 
 claims on man’s sensitive nature, interdicting alike 
 austerity on the one hand and all licentiousness on 
 the other. Nor is it a less striking fact in the 
 Gospel that it presents moral perfection in God ex- 
 actly adapted to raise the moral nature of man to- 
 ward the same Divine eminence. To facilitate this 
 elevation it embodies the abstract standard of excel- 
 lency into practical life, making our Living Head'' 
 our exact pattern. Its peculiarity is no where 
 more striking than in its relations to human con- 
 science. Its truths are so related to this faculty as 
 to secure to it both activity and peace. Many a 
 system has given it peace, but it was only in its 
 slumbers; others have roused it to activity, but 
 only to inflict torment. The Gospel alone gives it 
 
370 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 activity by the overpowering motives to action and 
 peace, by its imparted purity. The Grospel should 
 go to the whole race, because that alone can satisfy 
 the moral sense of justice which is so shocked by 
 the disorders of society. That alone unvails the 
 mystery by pointing to a retributive scene beyond 
 this mingled allotment. 
 
 Another characteristic of this divine scheme is, 
 it stains man's pride while it kindles his hope. 
 Indeed, it sinks him into the deepest humility in 
 order that it may excite the loftiest aspirations. 
 Among many more kindred distinctions I will only 
 name love. To this noblest of all principles the 
 Gospel makes its highest appeals. Its foundation — 
 the atonement — was laid in love; the principle on 
 which it is propagated is love ; the conquest it is 
 to achieve is the extinction of hate; the cement by 
 which it will unite the ransomed universe is love. 
 What, then, is the conclusion from this objective 
 and subjective fitness of the Gospel to regenerate 
 the race? Is it possible to doubt the grand aim 
 of its mission, or not to feel surprise that its 
 friends have not more accelerated its movements 
 toward that lofty consummation? 
 
 One palpable inference from all these considera- 
 tions is, that if Christian missions fail to save the 
 race nothing else can save it. Civilization with all 
 its appliances may go forth, like the morning light, 
 to pervade the globe, but it can never hush the 
 bowlings of sin, remove its frightful deformities, or 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 371 
 
 heal the wound of the world. This achievement 
 belongs to no other agency beneath the heavens 
 than Christ’s servants, wielding his inspired Word. 
 For ages pious lips have inquired, with agonizing 
 earnestness, ^^What shall be done to make redeem- 
 ing provisions availing to the race?” Never was 
 the answer less embarrassed than at this moment. 
 Doors never before opened to the Gospel are now 
 unbarred. Japan, the most highly-civilized of the 
 pagan nations, welcomes our missionaries to the 
 millions of her people. Central Africa has just 
 developed her accessibility to Christian agency. 
 The moral wall of China, high as heaven for 
 ages, has crumbled; and this change has thrown 
 open to the Gospel one-third of our whole race. 
 The suppression of the bloody outbreak of India 
 has reopened its populous realms to the banished 
 servants, to which they are now returning with re- 
 kindled hopes. A mighty struggle has fully com- 
 menced in the heart of Europe for that freedom 
 from Roman superstition which will give the Gospel 
 to the States of the Church. 
 
 These are among the signs of the times which 
 make no equivocal utterance, but, like a voice from 
 heaven, proclaim all things are now ready. What, 
 therefore, now remains but for the Church to be- 
 come thoroughly imbued, permeated through and 
 through, with the living light streaming from its 
 eternal Head ? Then will it thrust out its com- 
 missioned sons glowing in the Redeemer’s match- 
 
372 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 less love — blending their ten thousand voices to be 
 wafted by the breezes of heaven to the ends of the 
 earth. As no mind can act for the world's redemp- 
 tion by power only as it is in communion wdth Him 
 who redeemed the world by price, this vital inter- 
 course is the stern, imperative demand of your 
 enterprise. No agency out of harmony with the 
 living spirit of the Gospel can ever render the 
 Gospel aggressive, and nothing but its aggressive- 
 ness can ever secure its universality. Is not the 
 fact most startling that though this inertly-aggress- 
 ive Gospel has operated on the race two thousand 
 years, it still leaves seventy thousand every day to 
 leap into a pagan's eternity; that it has brought 
 only one in twelve under its direct influence; that 
 only twenty-two-hundredths of man's vast family 
 are swayed by Protestant Christianity? 
 
 The stirring inquiry, then, is this. How shall the 
 Church remove this inoperativeness — how shall it 
 soonest diffuse this heavenly leaven through the 
 whole lump of the race? This can not be done 
 by every Christian putting the jubilee trumpet to 
 his lips and blowing it through the pagan realms. 
 Still has every Christian a part to act in this 
 evangelizing process. He can shine by the mild 
 and steady light of a pure character; he can accel- 
 erate the missionary movement by the bestowment 
 of his means; he can act on the most distant shore 
 of moral midnight through the highest heavens by 
 the power of prayer. Where else is the flame of 
 
THE GOSPEL ONLY. 
 
 373 
 
 true Christian philanthropy kindled but at the altar 
 of God? How else can it be fed but by the oil of 
 grace; or fanned but by the eternal breath? 
 
 I verily believe that the apathy of the Church 
 and the hell of the heathen stand in the order of 
 cause and effect, just as do the glowing piety of 
 Zion and the spiritual rescue of the nations — as a 
 minute application of these principles can only be 
 made by a self-application of them. Let each re- 
 mind himself that he is a man — that there are a 
 thousand millions more like himself — that of all 
 this great world's population there is only one in 
 twelve like him bathed in the sunlight of the Gos- 
 pel — that the other eleven-twelfths are making 
 their dreary pilgrimage amid the death-shades of 
 moral disease. Does each present exclaim, Then 
 what can I do for these imperiled brothers of 
 mine? My warning voice can not sound in their 
 hearing, the light of my example can not assuage 
 their gloom, my utterances of prayer can not reach 
 their ears. Can I, then, exert no agency in 
 this world-saving work? The eyes and ears of im- 
 mortal man are not the sole avenues of fellow-in- 
 fluence. There is not in all the realms of nature 
 an object so dear to the heart of God as the rescue 
 of his Son's purchase — all the members of his 
 Church are the appointed agency. 
 

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XXI. 
 
 THE GOSPEL THE ONLY AGENCY THAT CAN 
 ELEVATE THE PAGAN NATIONS: 
 
 A MISSIONARY ADDRESS. 
 
 If we are right in regarding Christianity the 
 highest style of philanthropy, the Christian should 
 seek with the utmost eagerness for the mightiest 
 social forces by which man may be elevated. Every 
 known force in society has been acting on it for 
 ages, so that a comparison of their energy respect- 
 ively is now facile. 
 
 Civilization, with its institutions, has been pro- 
 posed as the master-means of man's elevation. Civ- 
 ilization, whose characteristics are commerce, litera- 
 ture, and the arts, is, beyond all question, a price- 
 less social boon ; but it is intrinsically unadapted to 
 man's highest elevation — unfitted to expand his no- 
 blest faculties. It contains not the principle of 
 self-propagation^ or the power of inward assimila- 
 tion. There may be a tendency, in the course of 
 ages, to perfect itself in its own locality, but none 
 to transcend its original limits by going abroad on 
 
 missions to perfect humanity. History, it is true, 
 32 375 
 
376 
 
 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 records of civilization the planting of many a col- 
 ony with more elevated institutions than those of 
 contiguous communities; but none possessed of that 
 moral power which is indwelling and life-giving. 
 
 What was the aim of those most ancient colonies 
 established by Phoenicia ? Not even to extend 
 civilization, but simply to protect and enlarge the 
 commerce of the parent State. For what purpose 
 did Greece, at a later period, send out her vigorous 
 colonies in the Asia Minor, and almost to the out- 
 limits of ancient civilization in Europe ? Not to 
 permeate darker regions by its intenser light, but 
 for the double purpose of self-aggrandizement and 
 to devolve from itself the crushing burden of its 
 own poor. Why did the early Latins plant their 
 numerous colonies? Not to elevate barbarians to a 
 higher social level, but merely to establish for- 
 tresses on their frontier for the selfish purpose of 
 protecting their own State. 
 
 The great modern system of colonization has, ge- 
 nerically, the same character — the extension of ter- 
 ritory, the multiplication of military posts, the ac- 
 quisition of distant points for the exportation of 
 their criminals — these and kindred objects have 
 been its paramount aim. As witnesses to this hum- 
 bling conclusion we might summon Algeria, Aus- 
 tralia, Cape Colonies, and many other instances. 
 Indeed, we may challenge all history for a single 
 colonization enterprise having for its aim man's ele- 
 vation. 
 
THE GOSPEL THE ONLY AGENCY. 
 
 377 
 
 Not civilization but Christianity alone has panted 
 and toiled for that holy object. Not your colonies 
 but your missionaries are to transform the midnight 
 empire of heathendom. 
 
 But I next advert to the claim urged for com- 
 merce. This has been regarded the great civilizer 
 of mankind. The maps of ancient history show us 
 the identity of the centers of civilization and the 
 seats of ancient commerce. Such was Babylon on 
 the famous plain of Middle Asia, and Tyre on the 
 early civilized shore of the Mediterranean. Into 
 the one the wealth of nations flowed in a deep, 
 perpetual stream ; into the other caravans brought 
 treasures of Asia; ships conveyed the tin of Brit- 
 ain, the grain of Africa, and the gold of Ophir. 
 Egypt, whose exhaustless soil fed nations by her 
 cereals, receiving in return their various treasures, 
 amazes by the late exhibition of that long- concealed 
 fertility which made her the storehouse of Europe. 
 But this intimate connection between commerce and 
 civilization leaves unchanged the primary object of 
 both. History establishes our gloomy conclusion 
 that never did a caravan go forth from Grreece or 
 Phoenicia, or an ancient ship traverse the Mediter- 
 ranean Sea for the paramount purpose of elevating 
 the degraded or civilizing the barbarous. Indeed, 
 most of those early expeditions were characterized 
 by those piratical aims which were animated by the 
 love of plunder, and were not materially unlike 
 those modern expeditions made by the Spanish and 
 
378 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDEESSES. 
 
 others to the New World. Though the preterxsions 
 of some of these were pompously religious, the con- 
 trolling incentives were commerce, gold, and con- 
 quest. Lust, treachery, and tortures, which would 
 have shocked the veriest barbarian, attended almost 
 every stage of their inhuman career. 
 
 Nor has mere social institutions the power of as- 
 similation to their more exalted character. Of this 
 defect an illustration is furnished by their operation 
 in conquered India. What have the civil institu- 
 tions of England done for the conquered millions 
 of Asia ? It is true that in portions of that ancient 
 nation are the school, the press, and the Bible; but 
 by what agency came they there? Not by govern- 
 mental institutions, but by Christian agency — by 
 missionaries often in the very teeth of Government 
 agents. Indeed, we need not leave our own conti- 
 nent to find a painful illustration. What has our 
 own lofty civilization done to elevate the aboriginal 
 inhabitants? It has given them rum to frenzy 
 them, disease to waste them, and the chicanery of 
 civilization to enhance their treachery. But have 
 they not grants, stipends, and reservations? Have 
 they not agricultural schools and the like? True; 
 but whence came they? From Christian sentiment 
 which extorted them from the unwilling hand of 
 Government. The assertion is fully authorized that 
 they are the Eliots, the Brainerds, and the scores 
 of sanctified minds which have succeeded them, that 
 gave to the natives of the soil whatever now enno- 
 
THE GOSPEL THE ONLY AGENCY. 379 
 
 bles them. But is not literature a reliable means 
 of human elevation? That it tends to extend civ- 
 ilization is undoubted, but that it inaugurates civ- 
 ilization is not human experience. Literature can 
 flourish in a nation only after art has developed its 
 resources; anterior to both the mission of the Gos- 
 pel is requisite. 
 
 Civilization alone demands the elaboration of 
 centuries. That of Greece, rising through ages, 
 culminated under Pericles ; that of Borne, after 
 the struggle of centuries, reached its acme under 
 Augustus. But to impart an immeasurably-higher 
 civilization the Gospel demands but a single age. 
 
 The next agency eulogized as ^Ghe great civilizer 
 of man” is commerce. That this is a grand me- 
 dium of communicating to other nations whatever 
 may distinguish a commercial nation is palpable. 
 Greece gave this boon to Northern Africa, and 
 finally to victorious Borne. Egypt gave to Greece 
 its astronomy, its philosophy, and, in part, its pa- 
 gan religion. Then, as commerce demands the 
 pressj and this agency promotes literature and thus 
 extends civilization, commerce is in this sense a 
 civilizer. But as it can not give what it has not 
 to impart — being without innate tendency to ele- 
 vate man’s moral destiny — the good it accomplishes 
 is incidental, not primary. 
 
 The very reverse is true of the Gospel; it there- 
 fore challenges all history for a competitor. Into 
 what barbarous clime has modern literature entered 
 
380 
 
 LECTUEES AND ADDRESSES. 
 
 to dispense its treasures ? It has gone abroad to 
 acquire, not to dispense ; it has explored the an- 
 cient ruins of Athens, Egypt, Italy, to rifle them 
 of their monuments of ancient culture, but never to 
 impart nobler monuments of modern culture. No; 
 it IS not commerce, literature, or diplomacy that civ- 
 ilizes the rude and Christianizes the barbarian. It 
 is the missionary, with the Book of God in his hand, 
 the love of Christ in his heart, and with the apos- 
 tolic mission glowing on his lips, that achieves for 
 man this moral elevation. It is true that the modern 
 commerce, unlike the ancient, does not restrict its 
 advantages to the metropolis, but extends them 
 through provinces and States ; still this modification 
 leaves unmitigated its innate selfishness. This is 
 referable to the force of circumstances, not to the 
 change of its nature. Of all these agents, there- 
 fore, the Christian alone has had for its primary 
 aim the elevation of man by opening to him an ave- 
 nue to the knowledge of God. Where is there a 
 desert so wild over which man roams, in which the 
 missionary has not constructed the alphabet, the 
 grammar, the lexicon of unwritten savage dialects 
 to smooth the path of pagan approach to Christ? 
 This was the only agency that first gave the Chris- 
 tian press to India, and instituted schools for mill- 
 ions of her wild sons. Who can ever forget the 
 names of Carey, Marshman, and Ward, who first 
 gave the Bible to the Hindoos, and who inaugu- 
 rated in that dark empire schools, colleges, and 
 
THE GOSPEL THE ONLY AGENCY. 
 
 381 
 
 cliurclies? Was it not the same Protestant Chris- 
 tianity that gave the Book of God and a Chinese- 
 English lexicon of it to the hundreds of millions of 
 the Celestial Empire, radiating that mighty mass 
 of dark humanity? 
 
 Look to the Pacific Islands, where the most re- 
 volting atrocities had obtained for ages, where can- 
 nibalism had threatened to desolate whole islands — 
 there the same Divine agency wrought a wondrous 
 change. A third of a century since a Christian 
 youth leaped on the shore of the Henry Islands, 
 amid thousands of man-eaters, with merely his 
 Bible in his hand. Now these islands ring with 
 Christian praises, and annually greet with rapture 
 thousands of Bibles, and remit as often two thou- 
 sand dollars to the institution that sends them. 
 This young missionary wrote in sand, on a board, 
 the two words God and Christ. This was the first 
 writing ever seen by these islanders. They now 
 grasp its far-reaching import, and are living 
 proof that civilization is the legitimate and imme- 
 diate offspring of Christianization. To suppose, 
 therefore, that civilization or any of its agencies 
 goes forth on the mission of philanthropy to elevate 
 the degraded, is inverting the order of cause and 
 effect. That great work, to the exclusion of all 
 other agencies as primary, belongs to God s Spirit 
 working through the utterances of his commissioned 
 servants. 
 
 In view, then, of what man is in his mental and 
 
382 
 
 LECTURES ANI) ADDRESSES. 
 
 moral and social constitution— in view of his origin, 
 his apostasy, his redemption — in View of the huge 
 usurpation of inordinate affection over the nobler 
 faculties of our nature, what agency but the great 
 redemption can be efficient? What means but the 
 everlasting Grospel can propagate it? We have 
 seen that commerce has put in its disclaimer; sci- 
 ence has said, it is not in me; the arts are proved 
 insufficient. All these have been more or less in 
 operation since the beginning of man's history, and 
 no one of them has successfully grappled with the 
 giant man of sin. Still, a fearful majority of the 
 race is in the deep shades of the second death; sev- 
 enty thousand every day are still leaping into a pa- 
 gan's eternity. The only hope of the race is in the 
 everlasting Grospel. It relies on the Spirit it has 
 planted in the hearts it has won for propagation. 
 Having put these hearts into communication with 
 its Divine Author, his redeeming enterprise be- 
 comes theirs. The mission is aggression; without 
 this its universality is impossible — ^with this it is 
 ultimately certain. 
 
 It is not the fault of the Gospel that less than 
 one-fourth of the redeemed race has been won to its 
 Supreme Author in two thousand years. Though 
 in executing his great plans the footsteps of Jeho- 
 vah are often not more than one in a century, yet, 
 as he has no ends to answer by the continuance of 
 sin, it was his- pleasure that the Gospel of his Son 
 should relume the world with the flood of its light 
 
THE GOSPEL THE ONLY AGENCY. 
 
 383 
 
 ages since. The long postponement of this certain 
 event is not referable to the slowness of his provi- 
 dence, but to the apathy of the Church. Had the 
 living light of the apostolic age never waned in 
 its intensity ; had its flame burned with equal 
 intensity for a few years, the Star of Bethlehem 
 would have long since beamed on the outskirts of 
 the race. Let, then, the present age compensate 
 for the delinquency of past generations; and while 
 it thus reflects on priority, let its example kindle 
 the zeal of posterity. 
 

 
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 ';iiU 74 
 
 
 
 
 
APPENDIX: 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 FUNERAL SERMON AND MEMORIAL SERVICES 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE 
 
 DEATH OF REV. JOHN DEMPSTER, D. D. 
 
I. FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 n. MEMORIAL SERVICES: 
 
 1. DK. DEMPSTEK AS A MINISTER. 
 
 2. DR. DEMPSTER AS A MISSIONARY 
 
 3. DR. DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT AND THINKER. 
 
 4. DR. DEMPSTER AS AN INSTRUCTOR. 
 
 5. DR. DEMPSTER AS A MAN OF PROGRESS. 
 
FUNERAL SERMON: 
 
 PREACHED ON THE OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF REV. 
 JOHN DEMPSTER, D. D., AT EVANSTON, ILL., 
 DECEMBER 1, 1863. 
 
 BY EEV, THOMAS M. EDDY, D. D. 
 
 My covenant was with him of life and peace j and I gave them 
 to him for the fear wherewith he feared me, and was afraid before my 
 name. The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not 
 found in his lips : he walked with me in peace and equity, and did 
 turn many away from iniquity. For the priest’s lips should keep 
 knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth : for he is the 
 messenger of the Lord of hosts.” Malachi ii, 5-7. 
 
 The providence convening us hatli its own eloquence, 
 the hour its own lessons ; the one scarcely needs an ora- 
 cle nor the other a teacher. Personally, I feel my place 
 should rather he that of a mourner than of the preacher 
 of the day. 
 
 This is no ordinary funeral service. We are to lay in 
 the grave, ‘‘ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” the remains 
 of a de^mted teacher, a profound student, a thorough in- 
 vestigator, a ripe Christian, and an “ able minister of the 
 New Testament.” Solemnity becomes us, for death is a 
 great fact ; and yet, with that solemnity should be min- 
 gled something of Christian joy, for another has gone 
 from the conflicts and sorrows of this to the beatitudes 
 and crowns of the upper world. Not enough has Chris- 
 tianity been permitted to do for us in mitigating the hor* 
 
 B 
 
4 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 rors of death. Too much do we yet symbol it by broken 
 columns, inverted flames, and drooping boughs — em- 
 blems of mere reason rather than of faith, which teaches 
 us that, with the Christian, the column has been com- 
 pleted, the 
 
 Eire ascending’^ 
 
 has reached the sun, and that ‘‘the tree of life’’ and the 
 “tree of knowledge,” rather than willow sad with pend- 
 ent bough, are emblems of him who “dies in the Lord.” 
 Familiar as we are with the poetry, we are yet almost un- 
 acquainted with the spirit of our own hymn : 
 
 “ Weep not for a brother deceased ; 
 
 Our loss is his infinite gain ; 
 
 A soul out of prison released. 
 
 And freed from his bodily chain j 
 With songs let us follow his flight. 
 
 And mount with his spirit above. 
 
 Escaped to the mansions of light. 
 
 And lodged in the Eden of love.’’ 
 
 The ministry of the Word is at once the grandest and 
 most difficult work of life : the grandest, in that it re- 
 lates to God, is based upon the mystery of the incarna- 
 tion- — God manifest in the flesh — relates to redemption 
 and retribution ; the most difficult, from the dispropor- 
 tion between the announcement and the announcer, the 
 treasure and its earthen casket — difficult enough to call 
 from an apostle’s lips the cry, “Who is sufficient for 
 these things ?” and yet so glorious in adjustments that 
 he also says, “I can do all things through Christ.” 
 
 The portion of Scripture I have read is the divine de- 
 lineation of Levi, not as the sacrificer, but as the teacher of 
 truth. As a “ sacrificer” the priest was a type, not of the 
 preacher, but of the Coming One, who was to be at once 
 priest, victim, and altar. The Christian preacher offers 
 
FUNEEAL SEEMON. 
 
 5 
 
 no sacrifice for sin, that has been once mode, and made 
 once for all. But the Levite was also an instructor of the 
 people. With much care was he to prepare himself that 
 he might ‘Heach the children of Israel all the statutes 
 which the Lord hath spoken.’’ During the long captivity 
 of Israel a priest came to Bethel and taught them how 
 they should fear the Lord.” It is so strongly stated in 
 the text as to need no explanation. He is the Lord’s 
 messenger, his lips are to keep knowledge — religious 
 knowledge ; and the people, because of this, are rever- 
 ently to ‘^seek the law at his mouth.” 
 
 Believing the passage a delineation of the expounder of 
 the Divine Will, we have 
 
 I. His official character — ‘‘He is the messenger of the 
 Lord of hosts.” The pastors, to whom the Epistles of 
 the Apocalypse were addressed, were called the angels of 
 the Churches ; that is, the sent ones, the messengers bear- 
 ing their divinely-appointed message. The Master chooses 
 those who shall go forth officially to speak in his name. 
 Our own Church has maintained a godly jealousy at this 
 point. She only consents to examine for license such as 
 “think they are moved by the Holy Ghost to preach,” 
 and all seeking holy orders are met by the searching in- 
 terrogatory, “Do you trust that you are inwardly moved 
 by the Holy Ghost to take upon you the office of the min- 
 istry in the Church of Christ, to serve God for the pro- 
 moting of his glory and the edifying of his people?” In 
 some form the same question is repeated at each step in 
 the ministry ; and so sacredly are her Biblical schools 
 guarded, that none can cross their threshold as students 
 till the Church has declared that, in her judgment, they 
 have a Divine call to preach the Gospel. The Church 
 holds that this vocation is of too great honor and respons- 
 ibility to be chosen as men may, without blame, choose 
 
G 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 an ordinary business or profession. It may not be en- 
 tered because of honor or emolument, because designated 
 thereto by devoted Christian parents, or from ordinary 
 desire to be useful ; there must be the inward call, the 
 Divine moving, the holy anointing attested to the Church 
 by gifts, grace, and usefulness. 
 
 Having this divine designation, he bears an august, 
 representative character. He represents the Supreme. 
 He is the messenger ’’ bearing the ineffable Word which 
 the people are to seek at his lips. St. Paul claims all 
 this when he says, Now, then, we are embassadors for 
 Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray 
 you in Christ's stead J' It is not claimed that there is 
 such a distinction between the man and the messenger, 
 that the man may become wholly corrupt and yet lose no 
 whit of his official authority ; for such an assumption is 
 monstrous. Rebels are not to be chosen as embassadors ; 
 and if there be treason after the embassadorial commis- 
 sion is issued, the crime is doubly hightened. He can not 
 remain in rebellion and retain his authority; but the ob- 
 ligation it imposed he can not shake off. 
 
 But for him whom the Master designates his ‘‘ messen- 
 ger, though he be lowly among his brethren, though 
 humble his parentage, yet has he an official dignity of 
 great exaltation. He speaks for God, and his ‘‘suffi- 
 ciency is of God.’’ He may speak in all lowliness and 
 humility, yet the Master saith, “He that heareth you, 
 heareth me ; he that despiseth you, despiseth me.” 
 
 II. There is a grouping of ministerial qualifications and 
 endowments — ''He feared God." This comprehends in- 
 ward religion, sincerity of worship, conscientious regard 
 for the Divine law, and the realization of Divine super- 
 vision. There is no genius however brilliant, there is no 
 talent however profound and comprehensive, there is no 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 learning however varied and ample, there is no eloquence 
 however captivating and entrancing, there is no reputa- 
 tion however potential which can atone for the Avant of 
 this deep religiousness, this internal grace, this home 
 piety. Without it can there be a ministry of experience, 
 the mightiest of human ministries ? How can “treasures 
 he brought up from an unstored heart ? The broken cis- 
 tern holds no water. 
 
 There is an exterior life in this ministry, Heputation 
 must be kept unsoiled, and yet the minister’s is as sensi- 
 tive as the eyeball. Only can it be preserved when “the 
 law of truth is in his mouth, and iniquity not in his lips.” 
 He may not retreat to the cloister, or find immunity in 
 retirement; for as the Master was sent into the world, 
 even so also is his servant sent into the world, into its 
 activities and into its temptations. He must lend his 
 hand in lifting its burdens, and in the battles which rage 
 about him his sword must gleam among the foremost, and 
 should be second to none in keenness of edge or sureness 
 of temper ; and as ever the standard-bearer is marked for 
 assault, so must he be. His safety is that “he walk Avith 
 God in truth and equity.” 
 
 His lips should keep knowledge and this I take as 
 expressing the student-side of ministerial character. It 
 is Avell that there be thorough reliance upon Divine aid, 
 and the minister is assured that it shall be given as needed y 
 but it will never be given to take the place of personal 
 industry. He is fearfully nigh unto blasphemy Avho prays 
 for the Holy Spirit to aid, not his unavoidable infirmities, 
 but his willful ignorance ! Rain and snow come down 
 from heaven, the sunshine sends its w^armth, but the field 
 of the sluggard is still overrun with brambles, and only 
 the hand of the diligent maketh rich. 
 
 KnoAvledge should CA^er be in the lips of him Avho stands 
 
8 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 np for God. If ever a man should intermeddle with all 
 knowledge it is he. If he may, let him he at home in 
 the arcana of nature ; let the stars above bo so many 
 familiar faces looking lovingly upon him ; let the lan- 
 guages of the past be so many well-known voices speak- 
 ing to him of God in action ; let him be at home amid the 
 labyrinths and recesses of the soul’s wondrous life ; but, 
 above all, let his lips keep the knowledge of the Word of 
 God — of that Divine “law which is perfect, converting 
 the soul.” All true knowledge comes at last reverently 
 to the theos logos. Prophets of old — those men before 
 whom an unseen Hand rolled up the curtain, hiding to 
 all other eyes, however eagerly they sought to see, the 
 mysteries of the coming future — “inquired and searched 
 diligently” into their revelations. Archbishop Leighton 
 says: “They studied to keep the passage open for the 
 beams of those Divine revelations to come in at, not to 
 have their spirits clogged and stopped by earthly and 
 sinful affections, ^endeavoring for that calm and quiet, 
 composed spirit in which the voice of God’s Spirit might 
 better be heard.” Even angels, amid the transcending 
 glories of the high empyrean, are students, and “desire 
 to look into” the sufferings of the Messiah and the suc- 
 ceeding glory. 
 
 Given all we have claimed, how is he to win a revolted 
 world? With what trumpet shall he sound the blast of 
 resurrection in the ears of men long dead in sin? Yet 
 even for this is he prepared, though not by might nor 
 human power — not by acuteness of argument, brilliance 
 of rhetoric, or winning song. He has that which can 
 still that revolt — which can pour persuasion into the dull 
 ear of that profound death. He is armed with the cove- 
 nant of mercy through the atonement. He goes with 
 the gospel of substitution, the “mystery hid from ages 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 9 
 
 and from generations/’ by which God can he just and 
 the justifier of him that helieveth in Jesus. 
 
 Of each Gospel minister who glories in the Cross is it 
 said by the Almighty, ‘‘My covenant is with him of life 
 and peace.” Of life! 
 
 Jesus Christ, who stands between 
 Angry Heaven and guilty men. 
 
 Undertakes to buy our peace ; 
 
 Gives the covenant of grace ] 
 
 Ratifies and makes it good ; 
 
 Signs and seals it with his blood. 
 
 Life his healing blood imparts, 
 
 Sprinkled in our peaceful hearts. 
 
 Of peace! 0, depth of mercy! 0, great mystery of 
 love 1 There is pardon for the guilty, though scarlet- 
 stained and crimson-hued 1 
 
 “Jesus, our great high-priest, 
 
 Has shed his blood and died ; 
 
 The guilty conscience needs 
 No sacrifice beside : 
 
 His precious blood did once atone, 
 
 And now it pleads before the throne.’^ 
 
 III. Here, too, are grouped the results of such a min- 
 istry — “Many are turned to righteousness.” God’s 
 messengers have various gifts. Some deal almost ex- 
 clusively with argument ; others come with the stern 
 thunders of law. Prophets are they, with the sackcloth 
 upon them ; and if they stand not on the mountain that 
 burned with fire, nor speak from amid its blackness, and 
 darkness, and tempest, they point to that mountain, and 
 with tones startling as its own trumpet they cry, “ See 
 that ye refuse not him that speaketh ; for if they escaped 
 not who refused him that spoke on earth, how much 
 more shall ye not escape if ye turn away from him that 
 speaketh from heaven 1” Others come with sympathetic 
 
10 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 tenderness, ‘‘beseeching by the mercies -of God.’’ Well, 
 each in his own order; but if each is right with God, 
 and comes with that “covenant of life and peace” — 
 conies for God, comes for Christ, not for self — it shall 
 he seen, by and by, if not now, that “he has turned 
 many to righteousness.” Such a work is the highest 
 in dignity, for it brings the servant into oneness with 
 his Lord, who came to seek and save the lost. “They 
 that turn many to righteousness shall shine as stars in 
 the firmament forever.” 
 
 Many! No single sheaf contents the spiritual hus- 
 bandman ; no single rescue can satisfy the philanthropic 
 minister ; no single victory can satisfy the hero minister. 
 The Captain of Salvation was made perfect through suf- 
 ferings expressly that he might “bring many sons unto 
 glory ;” and only have his representatives a Christly 
 triumph when many are saved by their agency. 
 
 My brethren, standing in this draped pulpit, and look- 
 ing down upon that immovable face, I have utterly failed 
 in the rapid exposition of the text if you have not seen 
 presented the character of our venerated father. It is his 
 picture, drawn by inspiration ; or rather the character it 
 embodies was one he diligently and humbly sought to 
 attain unto. 
 
 A brief outline of the life, labors, and character of the 
 departed befits the occasion. It has been prepared hur- 
 riedly, amid official cares which could not be postponed, 
 and without the privilege of access to his private papers. 
 My principal authorities are the Minutes and General 
 Conference Journals, and the retentive memory of his 
 bereaved widow. 
 
 Since the delivery of the sermon these dates have been carefully 
 verified. 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 11 
 
 John Dempster was born in the town of Florida, 
 Montgomery county, New York, Jan. 2, 1794, and died 
 at the residence of George F. Foster, Esq., in the city of 
 Chicago, at eighteen minutes past 11 o’clock, on the 
 night of Nov. 28, 1863. Thirty-five days would have 
 completed his threescore and ten years. 
 
 In a providential manner he was led to visit a camp 
 meeting, where he was brought to a knowledge of the 
 Savior. He was at that time eighteen years of age. The 
 foundation of his mature power was laid in an early con- 
 version ; but for that, would he have built such monu- 
 ments for enduring remembrance ? It is written, ‘‘Them 
 that honor me, I will honor.” 
 
 The inward call was sooru heard. He lifted up his 
 eyes, and lo ! in the whitening harvest the laborers were 
 few. Modest as he was, and all untrained in the schools, 
 the Church discerned his gifts and graces, and “thrust 
 him out.” In a few months he was preaching under the 
 direction of Eev. Charles Giles, P. E., and a little later 
 was admitted into the “ Old Genesee” Conference. Then, 
 when Conferences were vast, and districts and circuits 
 of proportionate size, the itinerancy was a tremendous 
 fact, and the slender youth accepted it with all its actual- 
 ities. During the first two years he frequently preached 
 twenty-one times a week, and this additional to meeting 
 the classes ! 
 
 He was sent into Canada, but a brief experience proved 
 the climate to be too rigorous for his constitution. He 
 passed through the grades of “the regular work,” avoid- 
 ing no responsibility or labor. Nearly eight years he 
 served as presiding elder on the Cayuga and Black Eiver 
 districts. The large congregations gathering to the spe- 
 cial services of the quarterly meetings of those days called 
 out his powers. It was the era of controversy, and he 
 
12 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 proved himself an able polemic. Elderly people yet 
 speak with enthusiasm of his sermons of that day, espe- 
 cially of some devoted to the Arian and Calvinian con- 
 troversies. His keen perception tracked error into its se- 
 cret hiding-places ; his touch, like the spear of Ithuriel, 
 compelled it to assume its own form, and then to over- 
 power it was the work of his resistless Bible-logic. 
 
 His own estimate of the preacher’s office appears in an 
 address delivered at the opening of the Garrett Biblical 
 Institute, in which he said : 
 
 ‘‘The sphere assigned to the pulpit is broader and 
 brighter than belongs to all other earthly agents. It is 
 the voice by which the Church, that Divine organism, 
 makes its solemn utterances. It is the channel through 
 which that body diffuses its secret streams of life among 
 men, like those imponderable agents which pervade the 
 firmest substances of nature. While the pulpit radiates 
 all the relations of earth, it is the preparation for the 
 grave and the lesson of immortality. The might of this 
 engine of power in effecting the moral rescue of the race 
 could only be appreciated by the calculations of eternity* 
 Its ordinary and external workings are no adequate meas- 
 ure of the energy seated within. This mysterious force 
 has only at times come forth with a majesty before which 
 great obstacles have sunk or fled.” 
 
 With such an ideal he could not be either a loiterer or 
 a superficial student. He sought to carry into the pulpit 
 that careful preparation which befits so grave and weighty 
 a work ; his words were fitly chosen, his lips kept knowl- 
 edge. He magnified the cross, and proclaimed the “cov- 
 enant of life and peace.” 
 
 The first epoch of his ministry terminated with the 
 General Conference of 1836, at which time he was ap- 
 pointed to the mission of Buenos Ayres. With his fam- 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 13 
 
 ily he landed at Monte Video on Christmas day, 1836, 
 and reached Buenos Ayres the following Wednesday. 
 In this mission he spent six years of active, earnest, hon- 
 est toil. He returned to the United States, landing at 
 New York, July, 1842, where he remained engaged in 
 pastoral service till 1845. In May, 1846, he visited En- 
 gland as a delegate to the Evangelical Alliance ; and 
 after a weary and dangerous voyage reached home in Oc- 
 tober. 
 
 We are now brought to the third epoch of his ministry, 
 and the one by which he will be known in the history of 
 the modern Church. When presiding elder, and assist- 
 ing in stationing the preachers, he saw what he considered 
 an absolute and pressing necessity for making specific 
 provision for the training of young men, who, in the 
 judgment of the Church, are called of God to the min- 
 istry. To meet this necessity he advocated the establish- 
 ment of Biblical schools. His views, though in accord- 
 ance with the example of John Wesley himself, met de- 
 termined opposition. The Church was moving with great 
 vigor in furnishing appliances for education. The chain 
 of seminaries, midway between common school and col- 
 lege, called into existence by the far-seeing wisdom of 
 Wilbur Fisk and his co-laborers, was being strengthened, 
 while, in a few chosen centers, capital and effort were 
 concentrating on institutions of higher grade. 
 
 The question was asked, What necessity exists for 
 institutions of another grade?’’ Not a few of the most 
 eminent educators of the Church spoke decidedly against 
 ‘‘professional schools.” 
 
 Others looked with jealousy upon the movement-^ — not 
 because opposed to a ministry of culture, but because they 
 feared it might be a departure from the path indicated for 
 our feet by the Head of the Church. They feared the 
 
14 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 substitution of a professional for the citizen ministry, so 
 graciously honored of the Lord. The chief paper of the 
 Church, then edited by Dr. Bond, was vehement in oppo- 
 sition, made in the well-known trenchant style and un- 
 compromising spirit of that eminent wudter. 
 
 Dr. Dempster conferred with Bishop Hedding and others, 
 and, assured of their cooperation, went forward, undeterred 
 by opposition and unchilled by half-friendship. The be- 
 ginning was made in Newberry, Yt., in 1845. In 1847 
 the school was removed to Concord, N. H., where, in the 
 month of April, without money, without endowment, 
 without lands, without popular favor, but with strong 
 faith in God, and confidence in the future approval of the 
 Church, John Dempster, Chas. Adams, and Osmon Cle- 
 ander Baker, now an honored bishop, with solemn prayer, 
 opened the Methodist Biblical Institute in the house of 
 H. Grinnell, Esq. None could question the heroism of 
 the movement, how much soever they might doubt its 
 wisdom or possible success. On the 2d of October fol- 
 lowing it removed into permanent buildings. Seven years 
 were given by Dr. Dempster to that school of the prophets 
 as professor, agent, correspondent, etc.; teaching, travel- 
 ing, soliciting funds, writing letters, answering questions, 
 solving difficulties. There were hours of darkness, there 
 were impending calamities, and there were marvelous de- 
 liverances. One of these may be mentioned. I have 
 alluded to his protracted and tempestuous return voyage 
 from England. His letters were storm -bound, and fol- 
 lowed instead of preceding him. Among them was one 
 from Mr. Stedman, son of a Baptist clergyman. He had 
 resided in Buenos Ayres, but had gone to England. The 
 letter contained a check for one thousand dollars, and 
 stated that he had made the disposition of that money 
 a subject of special prayer, and had been directed to the 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 15 
 
 Biblical Institute at Concord. Said Mrs. Dempster: 
 ‘‘We fell upon onr knees and united in a joyful thanks- 
 giving to our Father for his wonderful goodness.’’ 
 
 He felt that in this work he was called to be a founder 
 rather than a finisher, and his eye was westward. In the 
 providence of God an “elect lady,” Mrs. Garrett, determ- 
 ined to consecrate her means to this work of preparatory 
 ministerial training, and the founding of a second Biblical 
 Institute in the vicinity of the commercial center of the 
 young, vigorous North-West. He saw the importance of 
 the field, and heartily gave himself to it. On the 26th 
 of December, 1854, he and Mrs. Dempster reached Evans- 
 ton, and on the 1st of January, 1855, the Garrett Biblical 
 Institute was formally opened. It is matter of interest to 
 read the report of that day. It had been long looked for. 
 The active and eloquent Flinman and the devoted John 
 Clark, who had anticipated its coming, had been gathered 
 home. David M. Bradley was there, and reported the 
 exercises for the Chicago Democrat. James Y. Watson 
 was there, sparkling with wit and humor, scintillating 
 with poetic beauties, and throwing off his sharp, electric 
 sentences. Mrs. Garrett was there, disclaiming all credit, 
 and declining to receive any public recognition of her be- 
 neficence. Yet of her Dr. Watson did say, when alluding 
 to the Institute : “ It was planted by the hand of woman. 
 The large presence of woman here to-day is significant 
 of those dews of woman’s heart and eyes by which it is 
 always to be watered. The presence of that eminently 
 Christian lady, on whom such a deed confers such dis- 
 tinction and notoriety, from which she would fain have 
 kept it separate forever, shall prevent me from mentioning 
 her name. This day it is given to history and to the 
 hearts of posterity. Better still, it forms history in 
 heaven.” 
 
 34 
 
16 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 There also was Rev. Thomas Williams, then recently 
 from London ; and there was Dr. Dempster ! All these 
 have passed away. There are honored men here to-day 
 who were then present, whose names I may not mention. 
 
 In his inaugural address on that occasion Dr. Dempster 
 took his ground firmly. He reviewed the history of the 
 Methodist Episcopal Church bearing upon ministerial 
 education. He proclaimed the wants pressing upon it, 
 and its duty in meeting them. I must he permitted to 
 give an extract : 
 
 ‘‘To the minister it eminently belongs to command the 
 relations of the world without and the world within, that 
 he may seize upon that bright array of analogies and 
 proofs so directly bearing upon his glorious theme. How 
 can he disclose that radiancy which nature and revela- 
 tion reciprocally shed upon each other, demonstrating 
 the identity of their Author ? How can he confront the 
 bold rejecter of all religion who puts in the very mouth 
 of science the vmrds of blasphemy ? Such dig in the 
 earth only to find proof against Him who laid its founda- 
 tions. They tower into the heavens to array its suns and 
 stars against Him whose breath kindled their fires. This 
 malignant skill can be baffled only by a pulpit of life 
 and fire. 
 
 “ Should depth, acuteness, and compass of thought 
 illuminate all other discussions, and be excluded from 
 the discussions of the pulpit? If this send forth little 
 else than windy declamation, positive assertion, and com- 
 monplace ideas, what power on earth can protect it 
 from scorn and neglect ? How tauntingly would it be 
 asked whether the Gospel is the friend and the quickener 
 of the human intellect ! In the discussion of all other 
 topics by other professions, the manly strength is ex- 
 hibited in the clearness of reasoning, variety of illustra- 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 17 
 
 tion, richness of imagery, and felicity of diction. Aiie 
 these — beauty of style and wealth of thought — out of 
 harmony with the sublime theme of the pulpit ?” 
 
 To this Institute he has given his time and devoted his 
 energy. I need not review its history. Its sons are on 
 both sides of the globe ; are among the heathen ; in city 
 pulpits and amid the hither slopes of the Rocky Mount- 
 ains. They are its epistles! 
 
 Yet the venerable Doctor was not satisfied. He desired 
 to see the permanent buildings erected, and then to go 
 westward and plant a third institute where the roll of the 
 Pacific should be the accompaniment to its morning 
 prayer and its Sabbath hymns. To that work he pro- 
 posed devoting a portion of his property, and within a 
 few weeks he designed to sail ; but God called him! We 
 have many men of learning, many ministers mighty in 
 word and powerful in doctrine ; many whose logic is un- 
 answerable, many whose piety is seraphic, but we had hut 
 one whose honor it was to found the Biblical Schools of 
 our Church, and he is not, for God has taken him ! 
 
 -It is fitting ere closing the record of his ministerial life 
 to refer to him as we have seen him in our Church coun- 
 cils, where he was ever patient, attentive to each duty, 
 however small, present at the devotions of the morning, 
 and the doxology of the noonday; carefully observant of 
 every item of business. He had a seat in the General 
 Conference in the sessions of 18-8, 1832, 1836, 1840, 
 1848, 1856, 1860, and had been, by a large vote, chosen 
 by the Rock River Conference as a delegate to that of 
 1864. In this chief council of the Church his voice had 
 much weight, and his opinions commanded great respect. 
 The General Minutes give the following list of appoint- 
 ments : 
 
 1816, St. Lawrence, Lower Canada district; 1817, 
 
18 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Paris, Oneida district ; 1818, Watertown, do.; 1819, 
 Scipio, Chenango district; 1820, superannuated; 1821, 
 Watertown; 1822, do.; 1823, Homer; 1824, Auburn; 
 1825, Eochester; 1826, do.; 1827, Cazenovia; 1828, do.; 
 1829-32, P. E. Cayuga district, Oneida Conference; 
 1833-5, Black Eiver district; 1836-41, missionary to 
 Buenos Ayres; 1842, Vestry-Street, New York Confer- 
 ence; 1843-4, Mulberry- Street ; 1845, transferred to New 
 Hampshire Conference and appointed to the Biblical 
 Institute, first at Newbury, Vt., and afterward at Concord, 
 N. H.; 1847, transferred to Black Eiver; 1855, trans- 
 ferred to Eock Eiver Conference. Since then his ap- 
 pointment has been that of Professor in Grarrett Biblical 
 Institute, at Evanston. 
 
 As a student his habits were methodical. Time with 
 him was too precious* to be wasted. To the last he arose 
 at four in the morning, and till his breakfast hour — six 
 o’clock — after his private devotion, he read, studied, and 
 took his accustomed morning exercise. After his break- 
 fast he was at study till eight o’clock, when his recita- 
 tions began, and till near noon he was engaged in the 
 Institute. From half-past twelve till two o’clock, P. M., 
 he read or wrote, then he gave ten minutes — seldom 
 more — to sleep, and resuming study, continued till six ; 
 forty-five minutes were given to exercise, and then he 
 either wrote or read, or listened to reading by Mrs. D. till 
 half-past nine o’clock, when he retired. He made the 
 most of time. He shunned no difficulty. He delighted 
 in metaphysical research, and had made its controver- 
 sies familiar. He grappled with gigantic opposition, he 
 pleaded no prescriptive rights against investigation. He 
 was ever the courtly knight, with visor down, the cross 
 upon his helm, and lance in rest, ready to meet all comers 
 who disputed his faith. Not disputatiously, yet deliber- 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 19 
 
 ately he challenged all creeds and demanded their au- 
 thority. And this spirit he inculcated upon his students. 
 They were expected to be always ready to give to every 
 man that asked them a reason, not only for the hope that 
 was in them, but for the very faith which is its substance. 
 Emphatically he was an investigator . How far his literary 
 labor has been completed is to be seen. The Church 
 has been calling for his treatise on the Will, and it will be 
 a serious disappointment if it shall not see the light. 
 
 It was seldom Doctor Dempster would consent to ap- 
 j)ear upon the platform, yet when he did he always com- 
 manded attention ; and, while compelled to repress the 
 emotional in himself from care to his health, he stirred it 
 in others. Many to-day remember his addresses at the 
 farewell meeting held for Prof. Goodfellow before his 
 departure for South America, the one delivered on the 
 occasion of the departure of Pev. James Baume, and the 
 missionary address at the Conference Anniversary in Free- 
 port. We are happy to state that a volume of his ad- 
 dresses is now coming through the press. 
 
 Few men have had such strength of will. It bore him up 
 and on through difficulty, kept him calm in opposition, 
 and gave him much power over men. So, too, that high 
 resolve to live on till his work was completed, kept him 
 alive. But for it, he had long since died. Few knew 
 that often when conducting difficult examinations, or de- 
 livering those carefully-prepared lectures, he was suffering 
 intensely — but no word or sign indicated it. His strong 
 control held in the sensibilities and emotions as with bit 
 and curb. In duty, with him to resolve was to execute. 
 
 Dr. Dempster u as a progressive man. He gave words 
 of cheer to every true reformer. He sat not in sackcloth 
 amid the ashes of the past. Not his voice came with 
 sepulchral utterances crying “the former days were better 
 
20 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 than these.’’ 0 no ! He believed that onward through 
 the ages God would go, and that in spite of break and 
 tangle the web of triumph should be woven. He hailed 
 each advance, not only for itself, but as the prophecy of 
 still better things. 
 
 I should be false to the duty of the hour if I did not 
 to-day, standing by the dead form of my venerable friend, 
 mention his devotion to the great idea of human freedom. 
 How could it have been otherwise, for his head was clear 
 and his heart was warm ! He had studied the questions 
 of freedom and slavery in their various bearings, and 
 none could more highly appreciate the one or detest the 
 other. In the councils of his Church he was of the num- 
 ber who steadily worked and hoped for the removal of the 
 vicious interpretation which had been forced upon the 
 early antislavery utterance of Methodism. I remember 
 seeing him in 1856 in the old State-House of Indiana as 
 he arose in the General Conference to address that body. 
 He had been seriously ill, and had come from his sick- 
 room. His appearance was more deathlike than usual. 
 He began, as was his wont, deliberately, but as he pro- 
 ceeded, his friends in opposition started — they saw a mas- 
 ter of logic, who was deliberately destroying their labor 
 of many days. That speech was not answered then^ nor 
 has it ever been. 
 
 In 1860 it was my lot to participate with him in the 
 sti uggle when victory come. The conflict waxed hot, but 
 he remained calmly confident and soberly exultant. One 
 of his more recent public acts was to go with Kev. Dr. 
 Patton to Washington, bearing to the President of the 
 United States the petition of the people of Chicago that 
 he, as Commander- in-Chief of the Army and Navy, would 
 issue the Proclamation of Emancipation declaring the 
 slaves of rebels free men ! He stood with his colleague 
 
FUNEEAL SEEMON. 
 
 21 
 
 in that presence and presented that petition. When the 
 Proclamation came he rejoiced earnestly and with thanks- 
 giving to God."^ 
 
 At our last Conference he entered heartily into the en- 
 thusiasm with which the Report on the State of the Coun- 
 try was adopted, declaring that its sentiments of freedom 
 should ‘'glow in every sunbeam.’’ 
 
 Would that he could have lived till this “cruel war is 
 over,” to see what he believed would come, must come, 
 the complete and inevitable overthrow of the entire slave 
 system ! 
 
 To this it need hardly be added that he was a fervent 
 
 After mentioning his participation in bearing to Mr. Lincoln the 
 petition that he would issue an edict of emancipation, the following 
 note was read from Dr. Patton: 
 
 “Chicago, Dec. 1, 1863. 
 
 Eev. Dr. Eddy — Mif Dear Bro.y — Yesterday the papers announced 
 the departure to his rest and reward of our venerated father in the 
 ministry, Rev. Dr. Dempster, and to-day we are to commit his earthly 
 remains to the tomb. I can not allow the occasion to pass without 
 expressing to you the sympathy I feel with his family, my brethren 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the whole Israel of God, in 
 this affliction ] for truly he belonged to us all, as a Christian, as a 
 minister, as a theological instructor, and as an active friend of suffer- 
 ing humanity. No words can tell how deeply my feelings were 
 touched by the token of personal and Christian friendship conveyed 
 in the invitation of Mrs. Dempster to me to conduct the funeral serv- 
 ices at the house. But the fact may be partly explained by the inti- 
 macy which grew up between Dr. Dempster and myself on our mission 
 to Washington, in September, 1862, to urge the President to issue a 
 proclamation of emancipation. Many hours of confidential inter- 
 course by day and night, and many precious seasons of prayer for 
 that and other objects, drew us together with cords of Christian affec- 
 tion which have been strengthening ever since. Seldom- has it been 
 my privilege to know a man of purer life and more single aim, or to 
 meet a minister of more comprehensive views or enlarged sympathies. 
 May his mantle fall on some of his surviving brethren I 
 
 “Yours fraternally, W W. Patton.” 
 
22 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 patriot ! His love of country was intense and his hatred 
 of the rebellion as intense. During his fatal illness he 
 listened with great eagerness to the reading of the news 
 announcing the recent brilliant victory of General Grant. 
 
 It now becomes us to enter the holy place of private 
 life. He was a husband and father. Four children sur- 
 vive, and she who nearly forty years ago became his wife 
 remains to tell how strong was the love that hound them ; 
 how happy were their relations. Home was 'enlivened 
 often by his witty and genial remarks and reminiscences. 
 
 He was one of the most courteous gentlemen I ever 
 knew. It was Sir Charles Grandison under grace. This 
 came out in his last illness. His bow was made from his 
 death-pillow to all who entered his room or approached 
 his bedside. When, on the last night of his illness, his 
 old friend, Hon. Judge Goodrich, called upon him, he 
 could speak hut a few words, yet summoned strength to 
 ask in his usual way after his health. When the Judge 
 was about to retire he came to the bedside, and said, with 
 emotion he could scarcely control, Good-by, God bless 
 you. Dr. Dempster. The already-dying man bowed and 
 replied, ‘‘Thank you — thank you.’’ That courtesy was 
 in all things — in the recitation- room, in the social circle, 
 and amid the collisions of controversy. 
 
 The more sacred subject of his Christian experience 
 must not be overlooked. Though there may he all gifts 
 and all knowledge, though there be the understanding of 
 all mysteries, without the work of grace and the gift of 
 love, all is vain. 
 
 I have stated his early conversion. God be praised that 
 he did not have to lay the foundations when the beating 
 of the final storm came on ! 0, no 1 He remembered his 
 
 Creator in the days of his youth before the evil days came, 
 before the loosening of the silver cord, or the breaking of 
 
I 
 
 FUNERAL SERMON. 23 
 
 the golden bowl. His was a deep, rich experience full of 
 grace and full of glory. Not often did he speak of him- 
 self, but his religious status appeared in those prayers so 
 full of unction, so full of humble yet holy boldness, so 
 full of promise-claiming. It came out in the simple yet 
 glorious relations of the class-room. 
 
 Many will remember the last Conference love-feast con- 
 ducted by him in Rockford, Sept. 27th. He said that he 
 was going to be short, and that he hoped every other 
 brother would follow copy. His conversion was stated 
 in five sentences — it was at a camp meeting: ‘‘A long 
 night of struggle was my lot — a night whose darkness 
 bordered the world of despair ; but on the rise of the nat- 
 ural sun, a new sun arose — the sun of eternity. The 
 clouds, the trees, the leaves, the very stems of the trees 
 were vocal with music, and I joined the great concert. 
 My purpose in half a century has not changed. You all see, 
 brethren, that in the case of John Dempster the evening 
 shades- are lengthening. The day is far spent, the night 
 is at hand, but the path is bright beneath my feet, and 
 bright beyond. I look for the crown of immortality.” 
 Such was his recently-embodied statement of his expe- 
 rience ; I can add nothing to it. It is itself a psalm 
 of life. 
 
 In the remnant of time I may occupy I must speak of 
 the close of life. Some of us had marked with much con- 
 cern indications for some months that not even Di*. 
 Dempster’s will could hold up his strength to the old 
 mark. He was much worn at the close of the Institute 
 year, and communicated to the Board of Trustees his con- 
 viction of the necessity of a sea voyage, and informed 
 them that if he could obtain leave of absence, he would 
 sail for San Francisco about January first. The Board 
 concurred in judgment as to the importance of the voyage. 
 
24 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 but urgently advised bim to anticipate the date of sailing. 
 A tumor of long standing had become so distressing that 
 its removal by the knife was, in his judgment, necessary 
 before undertaking the voyage. He accordingly Went to 
 Chicago with Mrs. Dempster on the morning of last 
 Wednesday — 25th November — and was domiciled in the 
 home of Geo. F. Foster, where he received every attention 
 Christian kindness could render. The operation was per- 
 formed, and it was hoped all would go well ; but it was 
 written otherwise. From the prostration he never re- 
 covered sufficiently to converse with any freedom — articu- 
 lation was difficult. Thursday night was perhaps a time 
 of the severest physical suffering, and yet, says Rev. Mr. 
 Stoughton, who was with him, ‘‘no word or sign of fret- 
 fulness or murmuring escaped him, but he had a courteous 
 nod and smile for the slightest attention.’’ 
 
 Saturday, P. M., I saw him for the first time, and then 
 thought his recovery impossible. It had been the ar- 
 rangement that I should return Sabbath morning and 
 spend the day with him, but, from the manifest symptoms 
 of coming dissolution, I decided to return that night, and 
 so promised the venerable sufferer. On leaving him I 
 offered an invocation for the Divine blessing upon him, 
 to which he responded, audibly, ‘‘Amen.” 
 
 Do you ask for the closing scene? Wherefore? If 
 word were brought us of the death, in battle or otherwise, 
 of General Grant, who would ask for his dying words as 
 proof that he loved his country ? That has been an- 
 swered by Donelson, by Shiloh, by Vicksburg, and 
 echoed from the lofty brow of Lookout Mountain ! Here 
 is a veteran who has borne without fear and without 
 reproach the banner of the Cross more than fifty years ! 
 His record speaks for him. And yet the words of the 
 dying patriot are caiiglit up, echoed, and re-echoed — they 
 
FUNERAL SERMON. 
 
 25 
 
 are not needed for his vindication, but they are our in- 
 spiration. 
 
 I have said he could scarcely speak, yet in the evening, 
 as I entered his room, I heard him mention my name — 
 he was asking for me. I came to his side ; he fixed his 
 eye upon me, and made several efforts to communicate 
 something, but could not. 
 
 His physician was there, and we stepped into an ante- 
 room and he told me, tearfully, that the case must be 
 fatal, and authorized me to communicate the fact to the 
 venerable sufferer, adding, ‘‘It can do him no harm.*’ 
 
 His mind was still regnant. The intellect was clear. 
 I came to his bedside, and holding his hand said, “Dr. 
 Dempster, I must make a communication which I am 
 sure you will receive without agitation.” He bowed, 
 fixing his eyes calmly upon me. “Your physician says 
 he can do no more, and contrary to all our hopes, your 
 disease must terminate fatally, and that in a short time.” 
 No change passed over his face — he looked steadily into 
 mine, and when I ceased he bowed. He understood it, 
 and was ready. 
 
 After a pause of a few moments I said to him, “Doctor, 
 we need no witness to give us assurance, yet we will be 
 glad to know if the Eock is beneath your feet?” He 
 responded by an affirmative sign, made more expressive 
 by the smile upon his features. 
 
 “Shall we say to your children. Doctor, that all is 
 bright before you?” He responded, audibly, “Yes,” and 
 bowed. A little later, when I asked him, “Dr. Dempster, 
 shall I say to your students that the doctrine of the atone- 
 ment you taught them you find all sufficient now?” His 
 response, though made by signs, was emphatic. We 
 kneeled in prayer, and at the close of the petitions he re- 
 sponded, “Amen.” 
 
26 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 For an hour or more he seemed to suffer severely, but 
 -still no sign of fretfiilness. His eyes rested frequently, 
 and O how expressively, and I thought pityingly, upon 
 Mrs. D. We prayed again that his sufferings might be 
 alleviated, and his homeward passage smoothed, and so 
 it was. 
 
 There was some time during which he sank gradually, 
 yet painlessly and gently. His eyes indicated intelligence 
 of what was transpiring around him till within a few 
 minutes of his death, when the gleam left them ! At 
 eighteen minutes past eleven the head which rested upon 
 my breast was that of a lifeless man ! We were with our 
 dead ! We had solemnly committed his parting spirit to 
 his Redeemer ! 
 
 So passed John Dempster, the eloquent preacher, the 
 missionary laborer, the champion of reform, the mature 
 Christian, the devoted husband, the faithful father, the 
 constant friend. He is gone ! It seems to me as a 
 dream ! 
 
 " Thus did he pass away, yielding his soul 
 A joyous thank-offering to him who gave 
 That soul to be !” 
 
 We are to bear him to the grave — to the spot he has 
 chosen ; but he believed in the resurrection of the body ! 
 It was an essential >of his faith. It is touching to think 
 that he chose a burial-place within hearing of his loved 
 Biblical Institute ! 
 
 He will be missed in the meetings of the Faculty and 
 the recitation rooms ! May the God of providence who 
 has so bountifully blessed the -Institute, direct in the 
 selection of him who shall take the place of the de- 
 parted ! 
 
 He will be missed at home ! May the blessing of the 
 God of tenderness be with her, who for nearly forty years 
 
FUNEKAL SEEMON. 27 
 
 hath been by his side ! In her loneliness may she be 
 comforted ! 
 
 May those children — the daughter even now hurrying 
 hither — the daughter and the son upon the Pacific, and 
 she, Avho afar is the light in that missionary home, be led 
 by the God of their father, and fully trust in that same 
 doctrine which made all light to him ! 
 
 Students of the Garrett Biblical Institute, I have in- 
 cluded in my remarks his testimony left for you. You 
 know what he thought of that atonement, of its suffi- 
 ciency, of its preciousness, of its merit. Dying, when all 
 else was dropping from beneath him, this was there — 
 
 " A Eock that could not move.” 
 
 0, my youthful brethren, is there any thing to take its 
 place as the ground of your trust, or the theme of your 
 preaching ! God forbid ! Remember the words that he 
 spoke while he was yet present with you ! 
 
 My brethren in the ministry of the Word, our senior 
 is gone ! Our Elijah has ascended in his chariot of flame 1 
 The bow of our Ulysses we may not bend, yet shall not 
 the life of our friend, our brother, our father in the Gospel, 
 minister to us instruction ? Shall not his life, which was 
 the fullness of labor, be our admonition ? New responsi- 
 bilities press upon us with the ascension of our seniors. 
 God give us grace! It is a glorious, a blessed thing to 
 preach the everlasting Gospel 1 0 that, fired by zeal 
 
 from the altar on high, and warned by this sudden de- 
 parture, we may move to this great work with more of 
 Christly love and greater efficiency than ever before! 
 
 Leaving the chamber of death that night and hurrying 
 homeward, nearing Randolph-street I heard the strains of 
 martial music, and then loud hurrahs and shoutings ! 
 Coming near I saw a multitude almost wild with excite- 
 
28 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ment, and in tliat multitude were visible contending 
 emotions. It environed a broken regiment of men who, 
 with uniforms weather-stained, and faces bronzed, had 
 returned from fields of blood ! That tattered flag was 
 tattered because its folds had trembled in the storm of 
 battle, and been torn by hurling balls. Kough were those 
 men — unshaved, unshorn, and most unpolished in out- 
 ward seeming. But they were heroes ! They had rode 
 in the thundering charge against blazing batteries and 
 walls of steel ! They were heroes, and were returning with 
 honorable scars ! Therefore that greeting of shout, and 
 song, and wild hurrah ! They were friends, w^ho came 
 back for a season to homes that had missed them, and 
 hearts that had yearned for them ! Therefore there were 
 tearful greetings ! Yon army confronting the foe said, 
 “A regiment has gone!'* Here they said, “A regiment 
 has come home 1" 
 
 I could but think what a triumph has been won by our 
 veteran brother 1 He has been in the front of the conflict 
 for half a century. About him has been the bursting of 
 the storm, but bravely he went forward. He has fought 
 his last battle — he has conquered his last foe — he has re- 
 ceived his discharge! We say our friend is gone; in 
 heaven they say he has come! 
 
 The spirit, freed, 
 
 Hastens homeward to return: 
 
 Mortals cry — a man is dead ! 
 
 Angels sing — a child is born I’* 
 
 And I could not forbear to repeat mentally, as standing 
 in that clear, cold moonlight and thinking of the greet- 
 ing of our venerable leader above, that stanza of Wesley : 
 
 Born into the world above. 
 
 They our happy brother greet; 
 
FUNEEAL SERMON. 
 
 29 
 
 Bear him to the throne of love — 
 
 Place him at the Savior’s feet. 
 
 Jesus smiles and says, Well done, 
 
 Good and faithful servant thou I 
 Enter and receive thy crown — 
 
 Reign with me triumphant now!’ 
 
 And methoiiglit I could see the greeting of Redding, and 
 Clark, and Hinman, and Watson, and a host of fellow- 
 soldiers, as the spirit of their fellow-hero was welcomed 
 by the shouts of angels ! 
 
 And was it all a dream ? Goes not the spiritual hero 
 to a grander welcome than can await the conqueror on 
 earthly battle-fields ? 0, it must be so ; for he that over- 
 
 cometh goes to sit with the Master on his throne, as the 
 Master overcame and sits with the Father on his throne ! 
 
 ‘‘And now, unto Him that ascended up far above all 
 heavens, that he might fill all things, and gave some 
 apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and 
 teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work 
 of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: 
 to the only wise God, our Savior, be glory, and maj- 
 esty, and dominion, and power, both now and forever! 
 Amen.’* 
 
30 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 At the close of the funeral sermon Rev. D. P. Kidder, D. D., 
 read the following memorial papers : 
 
 RESOLUTIONS OF THE PREACHERS’ MEETING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 Whereas^ in the providence of Almighty God, the Rev. John 
 Dempster, D. D., has been removed from our midst by death, 
 we bow in deep submission and reverence to the will of our 
 Heavenly Father in this the great bereavement of ourselves and 
 the Church, with which he has been so eminently identified. 
 
 1. Resolved^ That in the death of our late and distinguished 
 father we recognize the loss to the Church of an accomplished 
 gentleman, a devout Christian, and able, eloquent, and efficient 
 minister, who for over half a century has adorned her pulpit. 
 
 2. Resolved^ That we have recognized in the deceased a pre- 
 eminent thinker, who, as a metaphysician, has long ranked 
 among the very first scholars and philosophers of his time. 
 
 3. Resolved^ That we appreciate his invaluable services as the 
 founder, at Concord, New Hampshire, of the first Biblical In- 
 stitute under the patronags of our denomination, and in his 
 intimate relations with the Garrett Biblical Institute, with which 
 he has been connected from its establishment. 
 
 4. Resolved^ That as an instructor in these schools of the 
 prophets he was in his department without a superior. 
 
 5. Resolved^ That we condole with his widow and children in 
 their sad bereavement. 
 
 6. Resolved^ That we recommend a memorial meeting to be 
 held at the Clark-Street Church, Chicago, on Sabbath evening, 
 December 1 3th. 
 
 7. Resolved^ That we gratefully acknowledge the solicitous 
 and kind attentions of brother George F. Foster and family 
 during the illness of our departed brother. 
 
 H. Bannister, Chairman Com, 
 
 R. L. Collier, Secy. 
 
MEMOEIAL PAPERS. 
 
 31 
 
 MEMORANDUM OF THE ALUMNI OF THE GARRETT BIB- 
 LICAL INSTITUTE. 
 
 It is our conviction that the side of our lamented instructor’s 
 character which revealed his peculiar power is known best bj 
 the classes he loved and that loved him. 
 
 His great strength made him more than a match for the diffi- 
 culties that confront the student. Where the inspiration of his 
 example could not allure, the ineffitable conclusions of his logic 
 forced the student. Thus all were compelled to think. This 
 made Dr. Dempster an instructor unsurpassed in developing 
 the pupil. 
 
 His great intellect was permeated and clothed with a spirit- 
 uality that distinguished his devoted life. 
 
 While his will battled successfully with the temptations of life, 
 his faith appropriated the promises of the Savior. 
 
 He excelled as a teacher in the wonderful inspiration of his 
 life-work. No real student ever sat a year under his instructions 
 without getting clear radical views of the fundamental doctrines 
 of Christianity; a calm reverence for the living, working organ- 
 ism of the Church he represented; a solemn awe for the dignity 
 and responsibility of the Gospel ministry, and an abiding purpose 
 to acquire a wide scholarship with which to meet that responsi- 
 bility and adorn that ministry. 
 
 C. H. Fowler, 
 Rob’t Bextley, 
 
 Committee, 
 
 RESOLUTIONS OF THE TRUSTEES AND FACULTY OF THE 
 GARRETT BIBLICAL INSTITUTE IN JOINT SESSION, 
 CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 30, 1863. 
 
 Whereas., since the present meeting was appointed, our vener- 
 able senior professor and colleague, the Rev. John Dempster, 
 D. D., has been summoned away by death, we feel called upon to 
 express our devout humiliation under this mournful dispensation 
 of Providence, and other sentiments befitting the occasion. 
 
 1. Resolved, That we shall ever regard it as a peculiar privilege 
 to have been associated long and intimately with this eminent 
 servant of Christ in the noble work of ministerial education. 
 
32 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 2. Resolved^ That we shall cherish with fond and sacred recol- 
 lections his pure life, his zealous and efficient labors, his unfalter- 
 ing energy, and his bright Christian and ministerial example, as 
 precious elements of the history of the institution with which we 
 are connected. 
 
 3. Resolved^ That, in commemoration of his honored name, 
 we propose to call the first permanent building to be erected for 
 the Garrett Biblical Institute Dempster Hall, and that we invite 
 the cooperation of his friends and admirers throughout the Church 
 to aid us in making the proposed structure a fitting monument 
 to his memory. 
 
 4. Resolved^ That we unite in sentiments of sincere condolence 
 with his surviving widow and children, on account of their great 
 and irreparable loss. 
 
MEMORIAL SERVICES: 
 
 HELD IN THE CLARK-STREET METHODIST EPISCOPAL 
 CHURCH, CHICAGO, ILL., SABBATH EVENING, 
 DECEMBER 13, 1863. 
 
 This was an occasion of great interest, indicating tlie high 
 regard in which the deceased was held, and the deep appreciation 
 of the loss sustained in his death. 
 
 The Rev. E. M. Boring was chairman of the meeting. The 
 hymns were read by Rev. J. C. Stoughton, and Rev. Dr. Eddy 
 led in prayer. After the introductory exercises the following 
 addresses were delivered. 
 
 DR. DEMPSTER AS A MINISTER. 
 
 BY REV. F. D. HEMENWAY, A. M. 
 
 We meet to-night under the shadow of what we all 
 feel to be a public calamity — a calamity to our Institute, 
 for it has pleased God to remove from her one whose 
 very name was a tower of strength, and whose presence 
 was a crown of beauty — a calamity to our common Zion, 
 for a stately and polished pillar has been leveled to the 
 dust, a voice always eloquent for truth, and humanity, 
 and God is hushed in death — a calamity to this com- 
 munity, for a prince in our Israel, a leader of the mili- 
 tant host, one widely known, worthily distinguished, and 
 warmly loved, has been suddenly stricken down. Many 
 
34 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 of us feel it to be a personal calamity, for I do not speak 
 for myself alone when I say it is a privilege, not lightly 
 to be prized, ever to have known him, to have enjoyed 
 his friendship, and been molded by his influence. 
 
 And I come before you rather as a deep and sincere 
 mourner, than with any hope of delineating the character 
 of the eminent dead. I come to lay on his memory the 
 tribute of my heart rather than the unworthy offering of 
 my intellect. I stand to tell you not how much I ad- 
 mired him, but how truly and warmly I loved him. I 
 feel that I do no injustice to the living when I say that 
 there are regards in which Dr. Dempster stood alone in 
 my affection, as he now stands and must ever stand alone 
 in my memory. 
 
 It is no part of the duty assigned me, in these sad 
 solemnities, to relate the history or to sketch the general 
 character of him to whose memory these services are 
 devoted. It is not foi\ me to speak of his genius ; his 
 varied and extraordinary attainments ; his unsurpassed 
 industry ; his rigid parsimony of time ; his steady in- 
 clination toward whatever might improve the condition, 
 elevate the character, and promote the efficiency of that 
 Church in which he was a happy member and honored 
 minister for fifty years ; the simplicity and modesty with 
 which he bore the distinguished honors so worthily con- 
 ferred on him ; that uniform courtesy of demeanor and 
 kindliness of heart which made him more than welcome 
 in every circle. Nay, I do not stand here to praise him, 
 though if this were my office never again might I find 
 materials so rich. 
 
 My assignment requires me to speak of Dr. Dempster 
 AS A Christian Minister. I have it deeply to regret 
 that this task has not fallen to one accustomed to hear 
 the rich and glowing utterances that fell from his lips in 
 
DK. DEMPSTER AS A MINISTER. 
 
 35 
 
 the (lays of his earlier ministiy, before, by the decline of 
 his physical vigor and the abstriiseness of his studies, the 
 power he once wielded over the masses had in any meas- 
 ure passed away. Or if it might not be so, I could wish 
 the lateness of my invitation to bear part in these serv- 
 ices, and the pressing nature of my subsequent engage- 
 ments had not precluded the possibility of my conferring 
 freely and extensively with the few among us who sat 
 under his ministry in his palmy days, before the fervor 
 and force* of his eloquence had in any measure abated. 
 But as even this might not be, I must to-night assist my- 
 self by the reports I have many times had from those thus 
 favored, but must rely mainly on my personal experiences 
 covering twelve years of acquaintance with him, and my 
 somewhat intimate knowledge of his personal habits and 
 characteristics. 
 
 A full representation of Dr. Dempster as a minister 
 would be/ a complete picture of Dr. Dempster as a man, 
 for he was nothing if not a minister. Here is the key- 
 note to his whole character, the focal point on which all 
 the faculties of his nature shed their converging light ; or 
 rather it is the central sun holding all his powers in a 
 rigid and beautiful order, and continually pouring over 
 the whole a baptismal glory. Unlike some, his absence 
 from the pastoral work, the ordinary and regular function 
 of the ministry, does not indicate any lack of interest in 
 that work, or any want of devotion to it ; but rather it 
 showed how deep was that interest, how intense and all- 
 absorbing that devotion. He was the diligent and suc- 
 cessful student, the acute and profound thinker, the emi- 
 nent philosopher and divine, the patient, laborious, and 
 self-sacrificing instructor, because, and only because, he 
 was in his deepest soul — his inmost life, a Christian min- 
 ister, ‘‘separated unto the Gospel of God.’^ 
 
36 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 In analyzing his ministerial character I find : 
 
 I. Unswerving Christian devotedness. I never shall forget, 
 and I trust I never may lose the thrill that passed through 
 my soul on an occasion near my first acquaintance with the 
 Doctor. For a special purpose he had put into my hands 
 one of his books — an old volume bearing the marks of his 
 frequent removals and of the fires and floods through 
 which it had passed ; but it was the label that attracted 
 my notice. It was a plain label, exhibiting no affectation 
 of family pride, no assumption of personal distinction, but 
 bearing simply the name “John Dempster,’’ and then the 
 motto ^^vota mea vita — my life is vowed . I felt like one 
 who had been guided by his angel to a pearl of inestima- 
 ble worth. I saw at once the secret of that sublime life. 
 I caught a glimpse of the eternal granite on which that 
 massive character so firmly rested. In this single sen- 
 tence, as I at once felt, and a better subsequent acquaint- 
 ance has only confirmed the impression, we have the man. 
 There was in him a controlling conviction that he be- 
 longed to God; “to glorify God was his aim, to speak 
 for God his message, to exhibit God his life.” He owned 
 one master-purpose, one consuming passion, that swal- 
 lowed up every meaner impulse and unworthy ambition. 
 He had prayerfully, and, as he believed, under the direc- 
 tion of the Infinite Spirit, adopted a life-plan ; and no 
 difficulty, no danger, no defeat, no disaster could cause 
 him to swerve from it a hair-breadth. Having selected 
 his position he maintained it with rock-like firmness. 
 Against him the storms beat and the waves dashed 
 in vain. 
 
 Here is the divine secret of his eminently-successful 
 career. He was strong because he felt himself linked to 
 Omnipotence ; he was great because the idea of God had 
 lodged deeply in his soul ; he was earnest because eternal 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A MINISTER. 37 
 
 motives were continually urging him on ; he was girded 
 of God for his important mission. 
 
 As a second factor of his character as a minister, I 
 mention — 
 
 II. His high estimate of the Pastoral Office. This was 
 indicated in no doubtful manner. 
 
 1. By the general preparation he sought for his work. 
 
 This was of the most varied and thorough character. 
 
 His plans of study, early formed and rigidly adhered to 
 during a ministerial life spanning half a century, were 
 most comprehensive. He sought, so far as possible, liter- 
 ally to intermeddle with all knowledge. His general 
 acquaintance with classical literature, with the sacred 
 tongues of the original Scriptures, -with several modern 
 languages, and the various branches of physical science, 
 if not in all instances so accurate as might be gained 
 in the schools, was yet respectable, and, in view of 
 the disabilities under which he labored, truly remark- 
 able. In general history, and especially the history of the 
 Church, he was the peer of any man who had not made 
 this the subject of exclusive and life-long study. In the 
 departments of metaphysics and theology he was prob- 
 ably equal, if not superior, to any other man in American 
 Methodism. And when it is remembered that he had 
 done this work as a minister^ and with exclusive reference 
 to his ministerial vocation — that he was only seeking to 
 bring from the dead and the living, the past and the 
 present, physics and metaphysics, the natural and the 
 supernatural, strength and resources for one work — then 
 does his estimate of the importance of that work stand 
 out before us in solitary grandeur. 
 
 2. The special proposition he made for the services of 
 the sanctuary was equally thorough. No man, certainly 
 in these later years, ever heard him preach a sermon that 
 
38 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 betrayed loose and careless preparation. Though his 
 mode of delivery was usually extemporaneous, yet his 
 preparation seemed not unfrequently to extend even to 
 the language. Indeed, some of his sermons were so terse, 
 compact, and profound, as to be more suitable to hold a 
 place in a theological treatise than to be used as addresses 
 to a popular assembly. And here was a secret of his loss 
 of pulpit power in his later life. He did not address 
 the masses so much as the select few. The labor it cost 
 to follow him and understand him, and the unwilling- 
 ness that too many feel to pay the price of intense and 
 protracted attention, as they sit under the ministry of the 
 Word, is the reason why some heard him indifferently. 
 
 His texts were carefully chosen, and frequently sug- 
 gested, in a very striking and beautiful manner, the pre- 
 cise train of thought intended. The first sermon I ever 
 heard from him, and one of the best I ever heard from 
 any man, was on the Atonement, and from this text — 
 ‘‘Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and 
 peace have kissed each other.’’ I have heard him preach 
 on conscience from — “If our heart condemn us, Gfod is 
 greater than our hearts and knoweth all things on 
 spiritual liberty, from — “If the Son make us free, we 
 shall be free indeed;” on heaven, from — “And there 
 shall be na night there;” on the nature of sin, from — 
 “The wages of sin is death.” These are specimens taken 
 wholly at random and from his ordinary discourses, but 
 they will suffice to illustrate the kind of texts he was 
 in the habit of using. 
 
 I have thus far spoken of his general character as a 
 minister. I may not long dwell on — 
 
 III. His Special Characteristics in this Work, 
 
 1. He was loyal to the truth. 
 
 That question of Pilate, though urged not in Pilate’s 
 
DK. DEMPSTER AS A MINISTER. 
 
 39 
 
 skeptical spirit, was ever with him the first question. 
 ‘‘What is truth was written in lines of calm thought- 
 fulness on his very brow. I could not conceive of his 
 asking in reference to his public ministrations merely, 
 What will please ? what will produce a sensation ? 
 what will secure popular applause? but. What is God’s 
 message to this congregation ? what is right and true ? 
 and this being answered in his own conviction, he would 
 maintain it though the heavens should fall. 
 
 2. He was spiritual. 
 
 Though his sermons were evidently doctrinal, yet he 
 never presented the doctrines as “cold, naked, and angry 
 propositions.” He spoke as one who had evidently a 
 deep experience of the things of God — as one who had 
 tasted in his own soul the joys of that heaven to which 
 he would allure us, and felt some of the pains of that hell 
 from which he sought to deter us. Hence his words 
 were uttered with an earnestness and pathos that were 
 sometimes irresistible. 
 
 3. He was Methodistic. 
 
 Though not narrow in his views or feelings, yet his 
 character bore the peculiar stamp of our own denomina- 
 tion. In the doctrines he presented, in the fervor and 
 force of his eloquence, and in the type of spiritual experi- 
 ence he held up, he was a genuine Methodist preacher. 
 He was so by intelligent conviction and deep and precious 
 experience. An anecdote I once had from his own lips 
 may illustrate this : 
 
 When first stationed in Rochester, N. Y., he received 
 an early call from a prominent Episcopalian clergyman, 
 then resident in that city. In the course of the conversa- 
 tion he remarked, “Mr. Dempster, I am glad to welcome 
 you to our city. Some of your preachers here have been 
 
 somewhat tinged with fanaticism, but from what I have 
 
 36 
 
40 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 heard of you, I am sure you will countenance no such 
 proceedings.’’ Said Dr. Dempster, ‘‘You have entirely 
 mistaken my character, sir. If I understand your use of 
 the term, I am one of the most fanatical men on the foot- 
 stool ; and I intend to do all in my power to promote 
 such fanaticism in this city.” And he was successful ; 
 for there commenced under his ministry there such a 
 gracious visitation as was never known besides in the 
 history of that city ; the blessed fruits of which are scat- 
 tered far and wide. 
 
 4. He sometimes exhibited a rare felicity of style. 
 
 His general style was not perfect ; it was too stiff and 
 artificial ; but he had single sentences and passages that 
 were perfect gems. He frequently seemed to make “truth 
 visible in the form of beauty.” He had the peculiarity 
 of giving a single sentence a sword-like sharpness, causing 
 it to pierce to the very center of the soul. “ Better arm 
 against said he, at the close of a sermon on con- 
 
 science, every devil in hell than to moke your own con^ 
 science yotir enemy ^ In the peroration of a sermon, in 
 which he had set forth with rare ability the internal evi- 
 dence of Christianity, he exclaimed, and with that peculiar 
 emphasis which he alone could give, If those Galileans 
 could invent such a religion as this, they could light up a 
 7iew star in the heavens. 
 
 5. He was sometimes overwhelmingly eloquent. Not 
 so frequently in these later years, and yet even we have 
 not been without some glimpses of his rare pulpit power. 
 It is not long since I heard a highly-intelligent lady, who 
 has been accustomed to hear him from time to time, re- 
 mark, “ I hear no man preach who stirs me so profoundly 
 as Dr. Dempster.” Said one of our best and ablest men, 
 who heard him preach many times in a revival that oc- 
 curred at Evanston shortly after the Doctor made his 
 
DK. DEMPSTEH AS A MINISTER. 
 
 41 
 
 residence there, ‘‘His sermons were among the most 
 solemn and powerful I ever heard.’’ 
 
 6. In the devotional part of the minister’s work he 
 .was preeminent. I have heard many men pray, but 
 no man like Dr. Dempster. In the fitness of his terms, 
 the felicitous turns of expression, the delicate gleams of 
 imagery, the vigor and comprehensiveness of the thought 
 expressed, and, above all, the fervor, the unction, the 
 rapt inspiration of his style, he was most remarkable. 
 The Holy Ghost seemed to fiow forth in his utterances. 
 Often have his prayers seemed to me to combine the 
 fervor of Peter, the faith of Paul, the spirituality of 
 John, and the inspired beauty of Isaiah; and, mingled 
 with all, such childlike simplicity and such a holy unc- 
 tion as to make us feel that he was in the moment in- 
 spired for that work. 
 
 Not soon will the echoes of that pleading voice utterly 
 die away on the ear of my memory : never, I trust, will 
 those holy impressions leave my heart. 
 
 My final remark bears on his character as pastor rather 
 than preacher. I will not sit down without refendng to — 
 
 IV. His Christian Courtesy, 
 
 On this point I have a special right to speak. The 
 peculiar and delicate character of my relations to him is 
 my full warrant. For two years I was under him as a 
 student, and for several years as a subordinate teacher ; 
 and during these years of intercourse with him in such 
 relations — relations that would be almost sure to bring 
 into view the unamiable side of a man’s character, if 
 such a side there was — I can recall no instance of an un- 
 necessary wound to my feelings ; not a single exhibition 
 of infirmity of temper ; no harsh, or careless, or unfeel- 
 ing word ; but always the most tender regard for the 
 rights, interests, convictions, and even prejudices of those 
 
42 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 with whom he had to do. The sweetness of his temper, 
 his perfect self-control, the affability of his manners, his 
 rare conversational powers, and keen and ready wit, made 
 him a favorite in every circle. Such a man, combining 
 eminent social qualities with vigor of character and rigid 
 regularity of life, and at the same time evincing such zeal 
 and devotedness in the cause of Christ, must have had 
 the highest qualifications for the pastoral office. The 
 very substance and spirit of his life would be to all the 
 most eloquent invitation to the calm peace in which he 
 seemed perpetually to abide. 
 
 Such was Dr. Dempster, as I have seen him. Such 
 was the sublime life which is now lost to our view in the 
 heavens. Noble man ! may God bring us again to your 
 blessed company ! 
 
 DR. DEMPSTER AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 BY REV. D. P. KIDDER, D. D. 
 
 I RECOGNIZE my call to treat this particular topic on the 
 present occasion, to have arisen from the circumstance that 
 a quarter of a century ago our departed friend and myself 
 were fellow-laborers in the mission field on the shores of 
 South America. It is true that we were more than a thou- 
 sand miles apart, and had never seen each other's face ; 
 yet we were ministers of the same Church and represent- 
 atives of the same Society, and although stationed sever- 
 ally in the capitals of two different nations, speaking dif- 
 ferent languages, nevertheless we were toiling for the same 
 glorious object, the salvation of the world. 
 
 Before entering specifically upon my topic, and as a 
 pertinent but somewhat indirect introduction, I must be 
 permitted to give a few reminiscences of Dr. Dempster as 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 43 
 
 a pastor, a topic not assigned to any one this evening. 
 In the years 1826 and 1827 he was stationed in Kochester, 
 N. Y. It was at an early period in the history of the 
 city, and his laYors were blessed with an extraordinary 
 manifestation of the Divine Spirit. A revival occurred 
 which had not only enlarged greatly the borders of our 
 own Church, but had extended to other Churches, and 
 thus practically baptized the foundations of the new city 
 in the name of Christ. To this day the influence of that 
 revival is felt in the religious character of Kochester, and 
 there yet linger among its older inhabitants those who re- 
 member brother Dempster as an apostle of Christianity in 
 earnest. Not only there, but scattered in various parts of 
 the land, are persons who cherish similar memories. I 
 have met them in the great metropolis, in Chicago, and in 
 various places among the cities and prairies of the North- 
 West. 
 
 Ten years later, in 1836-7, it was my lot to succeed 
 him in the same field, and to enter upon labors in which 
 his influence was still visible, and to mingle in scenes 
 where his name was still familiar as that of a faithful and 
 zealous minister of the Gospel.. I there first learned to re- 
 spect and honor him, and the one impression made upon 
 my mind by what I heard and saw of his influence was, 
 that he was, in a broad sense, a model pastor. 
 
 It was in 1836, the year of my own appointment to 
 Kochester, that the subject- of our reminiscences sailed as 
 a missionary to Buenos Ayres, and I recollect commend- 
 ing the fact to the attention of the children of that city in 
 an address on the text, '‘There was a man sent from God 
 whose name was John.’’ The object of the address was 
 to present an instructive parallel between John the Bap- 
 tist and their former pastor, who had now gone as a har- 
 binger of Christ to the Southern Hemisphere. 
 
44 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Whoever has given attention to the history of missions 
 in the Methodist Episcopal Church will have noted the 
 decade from 1830 to 1840 as a period of great increase in 
 the missionary spirit and great progress in the missionary 
 work. Prior to that period our missions had been con- 
 fined to domestic fields and the aboriginal tribes of our 
 own continent. 
 
 In 1832 the mission to Liberia was established ; in 
 1834 that to Oregon. In 1835 F. E. Pitts, of Tennessee, 
 had been sent out to ascertain what openings there might 
 be on the eastern coast of South America. He returned 
 in the Spring of 1836 and made his report at the General 
 Conference held that year in Cincinnati, in favor of estab- 
 lishing missions at Eio de Janeiro and Buenos Ayres. 
 The Church acted promptly. Justin Spaulding was very 
 soon sent out to Eio, and in the Autumn of the same year 
 John Dempster sailed for Buenos Ayres. His passage was 
 long and wearisome, but, by reembarkation at Eio, was at 
 length accomplished in safety. 
 
 The work upon which he entered was one of delicacy and 
 difficulty. It was a very different thing to make a flying 
 visit as Mr. Pitts had done, and enjoy for a few weeks the 
 hospitalities and politeness of the merchants, from going, 
 as did Mr. Dempster, to make a permanent establishment 
 of the Church. Few persons who have always lived in 
 Protestant countries and under the toleration granted and 
 guaranteed by Protestant laws, can form any just idea of 
 the embarrassments and obstacles that hedge up the way 
 of a Protestant missionary entering upon his work in a 
 Eoman Catholic country. Not only have indifference 
 and contempt to be encountered, but covert and open op- 
 position in unnumbered forms. 
 
 Mr. Dempster found to his surprise that laws existed in 
 the Argentine Eepublic prohibiting him from even preach- 
 
BK. BEMBSTER AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 45 
 
 irig a sermon without a special license from the Govern- 
 ment. Months were occupied in passing through the te- 
 dious formalities required to secure such a license ; but it 
 was secured at length. No suitable edifice being available 
 in which to unfold his message, it became necessary to hire 
 rooms in which to preach, and this w^as done during the 
 wdiole period of his residence there. This circumstance 
 prompted Mr. D. to take measures for the erection of a 
 Methodist Episcopal church in Buenos Ayres, which was, 
 after no small effort, provided for, partly by subscriptions on 
 the spot and partly by an appropriation from the Missionary 
 Board. But tedious delays occurred in its erection. The 
 country was in an unsettled state, and having become in- 
 volved in a difficulty with Prance, the latter nation 
 blockaded the Biver La Plata and the port of Buenos 
 Ayres for more than two years continuously. Hence 
 business was stagnated and the church not completed till 
 after Mr. D. returned home. Nevertheless he toiled on, 
 diligently and hopefully, laying foundations for the fu- 
 ture. He gathered a congregation of North Americans, 
 English, Scotch, and other English-speaking people, to 
 whom he preached regularly, and among whom the Word 
 of God was glorified in the awakening and conversion of 
 souls. He opened a Sabbath school, and also a school 
 for general instruction in the English language, sending 
 to the United States for teachers of the latter. 
 
 I am fortunate in being able to introduce at this point 
 some extracts from my own files of correspondence for the 
 years 1838-40, which give brief but graphic views of the 
 circumstances of the mission at Buenos Ayres. The first is 
 from a letter written by the Rev. J. Dempster, Oct. 13, 1838 : 
 “Our condition here has been one of accumulating un- 
 pleasantness and peril for almost seven months past. 
 Such has been the current of public events as to leave 
 
46 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 dormant scarcely any bad passion of human nature, 
 Want has pinched^ hundreds of this people, and woes of 
 many descriptions have howled through the city. The 
 French affair appears now near a crisis, but it is still un- 
 certain whether it will die away into peace or result in a 
 bloody war: the latter seems the most probable issue. 
 Should this be the case great political changes will 
 doubtless take place which will tend greatly to enlarge 
 the field of moral and spiritual enterprise. At present 
 we are permitted to act directly only on the foreign popu- 
 lation ; but should the power of the present party perish, 
 access would doubtless be had to the mass of the natives. 
 I am giving some attention to the Spanish language, so 
 that in the event legal obstacles should be speedily re- 
 moved we may enter immediately upon the high, ultimate 
 objects of this mission. The intense solicitude is scarce 
 conceivable which these thrilling prospects awaken. We 
 hope to commence our chapel so soon as the conflicting 
 elements shall sink into a calm.’’ 
 
 During the following month Mr. Hiram A. Wilson, 
 the first teacher of the mission, arrived out. He wrote, 
 under date of November 20, 1838: find every thing 
 
 connected with this mission, so far as I have been able 
 to learn, in a very prosperous condition, considering the 
 present state of the city. The chapel is crowded on the 
 Sabbath, and the Sunday school, of about forty scholars, 
 is well managed. The Church class contains fourteen 
 members. A lot of land is about contracted for on 
 which to erect a church, and the timber for the same 
 is already sent for to the United States. The French 
 blockade still continues, and how much longer it will 
 continue it is impossible to say. The French have pub- 
 lished what they call their ultimatum, which is rejected 
 in toto by this Government. I find that Rosas is ex- 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 47 
 
 tremely popular in the city, anri is said to be among 
 his military forces. His power is now unlimited, and 
 any person suspected of being an enemy of the existing 
 Government is immediately shot, without mercy, judge, 
 or jury.’’ The same letter adds : ‘‘I did not find brother 
 Dempster in the city, and I am indeed very sorry to be 
 obliged to say to you that he is in a most miserable state 
 of health. He has been absent from the city about four 
 weeks, staying with a friend thirty-six miles distant in 
 the country.” 
 
 Under date of December 14, 1838, the teacher writes : 
 
 Brother Dempster came from Montevideo yesterday, 
 having visited that place for the purpose of ascertaining 
 the present prospects for establishing a mission in that 
 city. Montevideo is the capital of the Banda Oriental, 
 a neighboring Spanish republic. His report is most 
 favorable ; so much so that he has already written to 
 the Board for a man to be .sent to that place — one who 
 will teach a school during the week and preach on the 
 Sabbath. A very respectable congregation can be ob- 
 tained now, and a school of thirty-five scholars obtained 
 without difficulty. The Government is well disposed 
 toward the establishment of a mission, and Ave see no 
 reason why the opening is not a favorable one, and the 
 attempt likely to succeed. May God speed the glorious 
 work till every city and village in all this dark and be- 
 nighted land shall receive the Gospel, and learn its saving 
 effects ! 
 
 '‘We have just recei\^ed this evening an answer from 
 the Governor of Buenos Ayres, in reply to a request 
 which we made a few days since to be authorized to 
 build a chapel. It is favorable. ^Vioe la Federacion." 
 Brother Dempster’s health is still veiy poor — so much 
 so that he is by no means able to officiate in the chapel. 
 
48 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 nor does he attempt it. He preached, however, at Monte- 
 video last Sabbath, the first time in nearly two months. 
 He is now in the city with ns, but will retire to the camps 
 in a few days.” 
 
 These allusions to brother Dempster’s health are copied 
 to illustrate what a protracted struggle our departed friend 
 maintained with disease. Those who have only known 
 him in advanced life have attributed his apparent feeble- 
 ness to old age ; whereas his health was better in old age 
 than in middle life. It was, moreover, in this determined 
 struggle with bodily infirmities, as well as surrounding 
 and confronting obstacles, that he exhibited that most 
 essential characteristic of a successful missionary — per- 
 severance against difficulties. 
 
 The teacher associated with him partook of the same 
 spirit. For two weeks after opening his school he had 
 but tivo scholars ; but, toiling hopefully on, he was en- 
 abled to write in January, 1840 : ‘‘My school at present 
 consists of about eic/hty, of both sexes and of all ages — 
 Creoles, English, Germans, Fi-ench, Irish, and Scotch.” 
 Every letter throughout this entire correspondence speaks 
 of the relentless blockade as still continuing. The only 
 means of communication with the outer world was through 
 the British mail-packets and neutral men-of-war. In the 
 early part of the year 1840 brother Dempster visited the 
 United States, and attended the General Conference held 
 that year in Baltimore. He subsequently returned to his 
 mission, and resumed his labors with somewhat recruited 
 health. He was laboring on diligently, having secured 
 the partial completion of the chapel, and hoping for in- 
 creased facilities, as the blockade was at length about to 
 be raised, when the Missionaiy Board, after a period of 
 great financial revulsions, deemed it necessary to curtail 
 its operations, and called him home. He arrived in New 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A MISSIONARY. 
 
 49 
 
 York in 1842, and immediately entered upon the pastoral 
 work in the Yestry- Street Church. 
 
 But the cause which he had labored to establish in 
 Buenos Ayres had then obtained so firm a foothold that 
 the people would not consent to a withdrawal of the 
 mission. They pledged themselves to raise one thousand 
 dollars per annum for its support in continuance. And 
 by their perseverance, and the cooperation of Dr. Demp- 
 ster’s successors, it has not only been kept up to this day, 
 but has the present year received enlargement by the ap- 
 pointment of a second missionary to aid in extending 
 the Gospel to the interior. 
 
 It is a striking and happy coincidence that a son-in-law 
 and daughter of Dr. Dempster, the Rev. W. Goodfellow 
 and wife, are now laboring successfully in the mission 
 founded by their honored father, twenty-seven years ago. 
 
 As a missionary, Dr. Dempster manifested the same 
 traits of character for which he was distinguished in other 
 walks of life, but which were found well adapted to that 
 peculiar vocation. 
 
 ^1. A disposition to shrink from no danger or incon- 
 venience when the cause of Christ might be promoted by 
 his efforts. 
 
 2. A readiness to see and improve opportunities of use- 
 fulness of every kind. This was illustrated by his pro- 
 vision for schools of secular instruction as an auxiliary 
 means of evangelization. 
 
 3. Perseverance under severe physical affliction, and 
 against discouraging outward circumstances. 
 
 4. A determination to turn life to the largest and best 
 account, both in great undertakings and in scrupulously 
 redeeming his moments. 
 
 While in South America he kept up his literary dili- 
 gence, learning the Spanish language, and writing articles 
 
50 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 for the Quarterly, also on theological topics, in addition 
 to his required duties. 
 
 It was a beautiful and exemplary act for him in ad- 
 vanced life, after twenty years in the ministry, to identify 
 himself with the rising enterprise of Foreign Missions. 
 In this respect he takes rank with Coke, and Carey, and 
 Phillips — names that can never die. 
 
 The result of his missionary experience was eminently 
 happy on his own life and character. His residence in 
 another hemisphere expanded his views and sympathies 
 toward the world. It gave him a store of happy recol- 
 lections, and inspired him with the sublimest emotions 
 when in the pulpit and on the platform advocating the 
 evangelization of perishing men. 
 
 On the whole, Dr. Dempster’s mission life of about six 
 years is an extremely-interesting period of his history, 
 identifying him personally with the broadest phase of 
 Christian effort. Although he did not spend his days on 
 foreign shores, his example and his teachings have stimu- 
 lated others to do so, and thus his record is still, and long 
 will be, perpetuated. 
 
 DR. DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT AND THINKER. 
 
 BY REV. HEKRY BAXXISTER, I). D. 
 
 What might have been the career of John Dempster 
 had he not in his youth been powerfully and vividly di- 
 rected to a religious life, no one, of course, will attempt 
 to say. It is obvious that the marked characteristics of 
 his nature, manifested doubtless from earliest boyhood, 
 were hUensity and depth. These came of necessity from 
 the two native and most prominent features of his mind ; 
 namely, a glowing imagination and a sturdy, unfaltering 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT. 
 
 51 
 
 will. They would have brought him into distinction of 
 some sort under whatever impulse he might have lived and 
 acted. 
 
 But we are to judge of him from the career which 
 transpired in his case, and present his intellectual char- 
 acter in the direction it took from the period of his con- 
 version to God, at the age of eighteen years. Prior to 
 this his education had been much neglected, as. in his 
 early years, his father had died, and the support of his 
 widowed mother and family was left in good measure to 
 him. From and ever after this period his desire for study 
 was to be gratified only by an unflagging method in the 
 use of his time and strength upon his books — he always, 
 even to the day of his last illness, rising at four o’clock in 
 the morning, and religiously observing through each day 
 his set hours for reading and thinking. 
 
 With occasional help he mastered the Latin and Greek 
 grammars, and became early in his ministry a reader of 
 the Greek Testament. He pursued the classics to a con- 
 siderable extent, with a view to the acquirement, among 
 other things, of an expressive vocabulary. His taste ran 
 to a compact style of expression. It was his special aim 
 to compress his thoughts into as few words as possible, 
 and those of the greatest definiteness of meaning. An in- 
 structor’s forming hand would have been of great service 
 to him here, and would have directed to an enlargement 
 of his list of words and a wiser choice, in some instances, 
 in his selection of them ; at least, a larger infusion of the 
 Saxon element would have added both force and grace to 
 his expressions, so prone, as he must have been, to depart 
 from the usual idiomatic style. He would also have been 
 saved from a certain degree of obscurity which arose 
 sometimes from an excessive brevity, and from the blem- 
 ish of inaptness in the use of certain words. But it is, 
 
62 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 after all, wonderful to what perfection he, with such lim- 
 ited means, did attain in his modes of expression, and 
 what affluence of thought he would pour forth to delighted 
 hearers, notwithstanding his meager vocabulary, which, 
 unguided and alone, he seems to have prepared chiefly 
 from words of classic origin. There was the glow of 
 genius, in such times, on every terse and expressive pe- 
 riod. Pared down to the greatest conciseness, his sen- 
 tences rolled out the finest and often the most startling 
 conceptions. 
 
 He added, in due time, the study of the Hebrew to the 
 Latin and the Greek. Never was a moment lost to these 
 in the intervals of pastoral and pulpit duty. A large 
 amount of his study he performed on horseback, through 
 open country or forest trail, and in inconvenient cabins 
 where perchance he lodged. Such was the spirit of oppo- 
 sition to the ministry of his Church in that day, that he 
 armed himself, also, with all possible resources to meet every 
 theological subtilty. His mind, hence, fell naturally into 
 the groove of dialectics, in which it so eminently worked 
 ever since. The points of controversy were chiefly meta- 
 physical, and he betook himself, as it behooved him, to 
 the profound study of Butler, Locke, Keid, Stewart, Brown, 
 and other reputed authors within his reach. He united 
 the exact sciences, more or less, to these readings, and 
 thus he purified and sharpened his distinguished logical 
 faculty, in the use of which, as we know, he has always 
 delighted to revel. 
 
 The decided disadvantage of having had no instructors, 
 no liberalizing atmosphere of learned halls to nurture and 
 polish his intellectual growth, no sobering attritions that 
 occur in daily recitation drill and in hourly fellowship 
 with co-laborers in study, he ever felt and acknowledged. 
 Yet there ^was in him much less exhibition of offensive and 
 
DE. DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT. 
 
 53 
 
 narrow conceits than is sometimes seen in cases of long- 
 continned self-training. His learning, of course, occupied 
 a narrower compass and shared a more limited scope than 
 if, under masters, he had swept the entire field of science ; 
 and he might to some, in consequenee, appear overcon- 
 fident and dogmatic ; hut it was only in those classes of 
 subjects in which, through long and concentrated think- 
 ing, he felt that he had a right to he positive. 
 
 For similar reasons he was, perhaps, less prepared to 
 appreciate the truest appliances of the educator. Him- 
 self a marvel of success in study, under the most stinted 
 privilege, it was easy for him to judge wrongly of the 
 varying capacities of his pupils, and practically to set at 
 defiance the proper classification of varying degrees of at- 
 tainments among them. But if one in six or ten among 
 them could not at times fathom his depth, or digest and 
 assimilate the profound subject of his lecture, he some- 
 how inspired all with a reverential enthusiasm, and un- 
 consciously drew many to set out for loftier intellectual 
 attainments. It certainly is to his credit that, before his 
 death, his judgment — always in sympathy with progress, 
 when he saw its fitness — observed the rising sentiment, 
 and that he gracefully yielded to the demand for a higher 
 standard of scholarship in those who are to be the repre- 
 sentatives of the full course of instruction in the Insti- 
 tute. 
 
 In respect to Dr. Dempster as a thinker, his portraiture 
 is the more difficult, as a comparison of traits always 
 makes it the easiest to present a case, and as there is no 
 example at hand that will exactly compare with him. 
 His strong will made him heroic in self-denial and hard- 
 ship, and especially enabled him to bend his mind to 
 whatever subject was before him with concentrated and 
 long-continued attention. Very few persons excelled him 
 
54 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 in this power. Though his mind had its seasons of un- 
 bending, his tenacity of intellectual purpose was seldom 
 allowed to he broken. He could easily resume his study 
 and take up the thought just at the link of connection 
 where he had left it, with no labor to gather his energies 
 again, but with fresh earnestness and intensity. This 
 power, partly the gift of nature and partly the result of 
 discipline for over fifty years, was available to him in the 
 pulpit or in the deliberative assembly, where by the hour 
 he would, in extemporaneous address, charm and often 
 overpower intelligent audiences bj^ compact and unfalter- 
 ing argumentation. 
 
 But he used it the most in his study, in his metaphys- 
 ical inquiries. Besides the thinking which he devoted lo 
 daily exercises with his class, it was his habit to have on 
 hand also some special subject, usually metaphysical, and 
 to linger long upon the study and analysis of it. For 
 many years past these subjects have related mostly to 
 the doctrines of ontology and causation. In this high re- 
 gion of metaphysical thought — the region of ultimate cog- 
 nitions, or first truths — he delighted to speculate. He 
 drew from these cognitions his main weapons against as- 
 sailants. Whether or not he settled their full character as 
 first truths — which is the hardest problem of philosophy — 
 is not the question now ; but he used them in every argu- 
 ment. They served him as elements for premises to every 
 conclusion. Admit them, and his conclusions were deci- 
 sive ; deny or suspect them, and you were asked to show 
 that they were not ultimate truths by showing what deci- 
 sive truth or principle was antecedent to them. Few, if 
 any, could do this. First, because thought in its last an- 
 alysis has not yet been settled by philosophy as decisively 
 possible in but a small number of cases, at the most; and 
 secondly, if it were possible, few persons have such a con- 
 
1 ) 11 . DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT. 
 
 55 
 
 junction of faculties as to possess so vivid and penetra- 
 tive a view of this high region of thought as did Dr. 
 Dempster. 
 
 And this leads me to repeat what at first I asserted, 
 that, along with a commanding will, imagination was a 
 distinguishing feature of his mind. It showed itself in 
 the vivacious play of his faculty of comparison, giving 
 vivid reminiscence of reluctantly-recurring relations of 
 thought ; or, to state this under a figure, it sent its light 
 along the track of argument so that the steps in the proc- 
 ess of the argument fiashed on his mind as by intuition. 
 It gave well-defined outlines also to his ideas, so that the 
 exactly-fitting woi’ds came readily for an effective expres- 
 sion of them. He did not go feeling his way as if in 
 doubt whether he were in the right way toward what he 
 deemed a clinching conclusion ; but he went confidently ^ 
 and delivered his decision as if it were an oracle to he re- 
 ceived and submitted to, not a mere statement to be 
 doubted and disputed. 
 
 Safer or more cautious persons would often think that 
 here his imagination was playing the mischief with just 
 reasoning ; that so dazzling was his impression of some 
 partial, some half truth, that he unwarrantably uttered 
 himself with extravagant emphasis. No doubt this was 
 at times his striking fault ; especially in practical things, 
 and often in abstract, his deliverances had sometimes 
 too great intensity from the glow which his imagination 
 spread over his judgment. In a calm and just equipoise 
 with the other faculties, the imagination is indispensable 
 to the successful reasoner ; hut let emotion at any time 
 stimulate it to excess, then it seriously vitiates the other- 
 wise best- l^id premises. It does this by the fallacy of 
 proving too much — by the fallacy of overstatement or 
 exaggeration. 
 
56 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Nevertheless, his imagination was a divine gift to him. 
 In its free and unrestricted play in solemn public dis- 
 course, and sometimes in the staid lecture or in the class 
 exercise, it coruscated its pure light over his abstruse 
 processes, and illumined to the commonest mind what 
 would otherwise have been dark and unintelligible. He 
 was by nature a poet, though he subjected his faculty 
 less to its producing than to its representing, its sug- 
 gesting power. Had this busy life permitted him time to 
 survey all the fields of literature, there would have been 
 no limit to the fertility of his resources for brilliant illus- 
 tration ; but he brought his metaphors from the depart- 
 ment of light, from the great agencies of nature, and 
 from the drapery and powers of the world to come, and 
 wfith these he dealt largely in antithesis and climax ; and 
 if you tired of his figures, perchance it was only because 
 of their oft-repeated, monotonous, optical character, for 
 the most part. 
 
 The question has occurred. What claim had John 
 Dempster to the rank of a philosopher? So intense 
 was his concentration that his thinking was more in 
 long lines of thought, seeking the utmost analysis of 
 subjects, than in grappling with large and comprehensive 
 bodies of thought. As he ran up his analyses, he would 
 often seem to take positions that clashed with related 
 doctrines which fell not within his track for the time. 
 Though doubtless to his mind they were perfectly irrecon- 
 cilable, it would have broken his spell-bound attention 
 to have stopped to explain them ; and as his independent 
 criticisms in philosophy and theology are many of them 
 fragmentary, it is feared that his life was too soon cut 
 off to allow of his digesting them all into a consistent 
 and complete system. Abundant material is undoubtedly 
 left for an editor’s hand to prove that his life was a high 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A STUDENT. 
 
 57 
 
 success in furnishing to the Church and the world rich 
 treasures of original thought both in philosophy and the- 
 ology. His own hand had indeed compacted his writings 
 somewhat which relate to the doctrine of human freedom, 
 and to certain branches of natural theology ; so that his 
 claim to rank as a rich contributor to fields of thought 
 in philosophy will scarcely be denied him. 
 
 The truth in his case was, that his intense and deep 
 nature was ever fastening itself on plans of work yet to 
 be executed. With great painstaking over his always 
 feeble health, he protracted his years far beyond what was 
 once deemed a possible expectation ; but his programme 
 of life, as we know, was far from finished at his death. 
 What revision or what recasting of his voluminous manu- 
 scripts he might have done we know not ; but we do 
 know that he was cut down with little or no decay of his 
 intellectual power ; and most probably he looked for time 
 yet to complete all his intellectual life-work — -then to lay 
 himself down in thanksgiving and joy. But he died on 
 the threshold of such a reward, in hope, but not in pos- 
 session. 
 
 The grace of God aided the strong energies of his 
 strong will, and made him a notable representative of a 
 past age, a fresh sympathizer and co-worker with the 
 ever-passing present, and a nourisher of deep yearnings 
 for the future, which were to be quenched only by the 
 sudden swoop of Death upon him. More than half a 
 century since he peered high according to the standard 
 of that time ; and as knowledge, and intellectual and 
 social power gradually rose in the Church, leaving lag- 
 gards and fossils behind, he ascended plane after plane 
 of intellectual position, with his face firmly set to the last 
 for never-ceasing improvement. The life of thought and 
 progress he spent shall be a lasting and a lashing protest 
 
58 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 to his survivors, and successors, and pupils against tame- 
 ness of intellectual ambition, and against servility to old- 
 time notions, as such, as a standard for intellectual life 
 and usefulness. Though gone from our midst, he lives 
 still, and tvill live. We shall see him on the horizon 
 of the future, shedding light still on many a dark point 
 by the thoughts he has set afloat on the age, and by the 
 beacons to his memory in ‘‘the schools of the prophets.’’ 
 Surely a stiong, intelligent, Christian character, sanc- 
 tified in its aims, pardoned of its unprofitableness, over- 
 ruled as to its defects, is a power in the earth ; it is 
 God’s instrumentality for the redemption of the world. 
 It should sadden us that there is not a greater multipli- 
 cation of it — that ourselves are spiritually and intellectu- 
 ally so lacking in what is essential to it ; but a grateful 
 opportunity is it that we can contemplate this one marked 
 case of a Christian career, so long, so uninterrupted, so 
 productive. 
 
 DR. DEMPSTER AS AN INSTRUCTOR. 
 
 BY REV. C. II. FOWLER, A. M. 
 
 While I might wish that the task of presenting John 
 Dempster as an instructor had been allotted to some abler 
 of his many pupils, yet I must esteem it no less a privi- 
 lege than an honor. It is no small blessing to be per- 
 mitted to speak of such a man. As the patriot renews 
 his devotion at the hallowed tomb of Washington, so the 
 student may rekindle his zeal and mature his purpose at 
 the consecrated mound of Dempster. As the mathemati- 
 cian, about to space off a circle into degrees, may turn it 
 round and round hardly knowing where to commence, 
 though conscious that it matters not, so I have turned Dr. 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS AN INSTRUCTOR. 59 
 
 Dempster’s character round and round, not knowing 
 where to commence. But the consciousness that so per- 
 fect a character, if accurately delineated, will come out in 
 its oneness and entirety wherever it may he first touched, 
 makes me comparatively indifferent to the order of pre- 
 sentation. That I may not seem to immolate the living 
 upon the tombs of the dead, or praise too highly a benefactor 
 and friend, I w^ould have it remembered that I speak of 
 him only in his own peculiar department of systematic 
 theology ; for this is where he made such wonderful revela- 
 tions of his power and character. He who has carefully 
 considered, or will so consider it, will see that while great 
 breadth of views and depth of scholarship, and that, too, 
 in preponderance over singleness and directness of thought 
 along required lines, are necessary to the exegesist, the re- 
 verse is true of him who would grapple successfully with 
 the tangled questions of theology. While he must have 
 breadth and scholarship, he must the more have direct- 
 ness and acuteness. This was Dempster’s sphere, and 
 here he planted his siege guns. To measure him here is 
 no slight task, for there is no one man with whom to com- 
 pare him, and no difficulty that circumscribed him. 
 
 Go away from this busy, outdoor world of policies, 
 wars, and histories, whose horizons encircle the race, and 
 go into the recitation -room, where the student finds his 
 world with policies, wars, and histories no narrower to 
 him than these are to you, and you shall see how the 
 Doctor loomed up in the characteristics so essential to the 
 successful instructor. 
 
 Few men have ever equaled him in power to communicate 
 forcibly what appeared so clear and certain to himself. 
 His bold, pointed, sometimes fierce and always clear illus- 
 trations so concreted and incarnated the truth that the 
 student might almost take it in his hands. Though all 
 
60 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 fields were made tributary to bis illustrations, yet be espe- 
 cially gathered from tbe fields of light and the types of 
 life. You who have listened to his magnificent and im- 
 pressive conversation can have some idea of his wonderful 
 power of communication to the student. In this pecul- 
 iarity he may justly be compared with Pythagoras at 
 Croton a, and Coleridge at High Gate. His strength and 
 accuracy soon secured that confidence without which the 
 student is left to grope his way in the darkness. The 
 steadiness of conscious strength marked his advances into 
 disputed questions ; and the certainty with which his ar- 
 guments brought him and all who followed him to the 
 truth, made one willing to receive his conclusion because 
 “he said it.’’ But some unexpected inquiry, some stub- 
 born question was always sure to drive the student to the 
 reasons. All who sailed with him must be sailors. The 
 zest with which he attacked errors and the ease with 
 which he exposed them made even their advocates enjoy 
 their destruction. Where he could not inspire confidence 
 with the ease of his own advances, he compelled it with 
 the power of his logic ; and Napoleon had no more confi- 
 dent followers on the fields of Jena and Austerlitz than 
 had this man in the questions of agency and the atone- 
 ment. 
 
 Though he was clad in mail which answered to the 
 spear only with fire, yet there was always such an air of 
 gentleness and sympathy about him that somehow seemed 
 to buckle the student within and quicken him with his 
 own generous heart-throbs ; and whether his disciples 
 wore away the weary night to prepare for his coming, or 
 stood with uncovered head in his presence, or in the days 
 of his feebleness and affliction carried him in their arms 
 to his post of duty, it was all done from an affection 
 which could be kindled only by his own exhaustless love. 
 
DE. DEMPSTEE AS AN INSTEUCTOE. 
 
 61 
 
 In this power over those who knew him in his strong- 
 hold — the recitation-room — he may stand side by side 
 with the amiable Melancthon at Wittenbnrg. 
 
 With these qualifications it needs hardly be stated that 
 he had also the power to interest. Though he seemed 
 always digging into the roots of things, yet he so con- 
 stantly brought out their hidden relations to the every-day 
 questions of right and duty, of conduct and character, 
 that one felt that to lose one sentence that fell from his 
 lips was to lose the real solution of some social or moral 
 difficulty — his imagination piesenting images glowing 
 and grand, and his wit, sparkling, ready, resistless, and 
 always kindly, made the dryest and the most abstruse 
 subjects glow with living interest. If a dissenting pupil 
 would not see an inevitable conclusion, a single compari- 
 son on the involved absurdity would always extort from 
 the will the conviction of the judgment. He so clothed 
 virtue and unclothed vice, so dignified truth and be- 
 meaned error, that they became authority and repelling 
 forces, fiking the student’s action no less than his atten- 
 tion. The interest that warmed every subject he touched 
 bound to him every genuine student no less firmly than 
 were the young Athenians wedded to the unsandaled phi- 
 losopher of Athens. As the profligate Alcibiades was 
 compelled to stop his ears in presence of Socrates lest he 
 should grow old under his voice, so the vicious could ill 
 retain their vices in the presence of him whom we to- 
 night commemorate ; for to hear him was to follow, and 
 to follow was to obey. 
 
 In the peculiar discouragements which none but the 
 student may experience. Dr. Dempster came always with 
 words of cheer. His smile in weariness, his calm purpose 
 in the midst of delay, his buoyancy in spite of his cease- 
 less toil, made the student feel that however slow the 
 
62 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 advancement, it was reward enougdi simply to have studied 
 and struggled. Wesley’s words cheered not more the early 
 itinerants, nor Washington’s presence the veterans of 
 Valley Forge, than did this man’s precepts and practice 
 encourage the dejected student. This was essential to his 
 largest success ; for loneliness and wanderings somehow 
 inhere in student-life, and every scholar, sooner or later, 
 finds his Valley Forge. 
 
 That which did most to make the Doctor an instructor 
 was the wonderful inspiration of his life-work. Where 
 personal ambition and even a conviction of duty could not 
 drive the student, he allured by the magic of his example. 
 Europe followed Peter the Hermit not more eagerly thi ough 
 nakedness and famine toward the sepulcher of the Savior, 
 than did all earnest students follow Dempster to the great 
 truths of the atonement. No man could sit under his 
 teachings without receiving clear ideas of God’s spiritual 
 government, a calm reverence for the living organism of 
 the Church he represented, and a veneration for the dig- 
 nity and responsibility of the Gospel ministry, and pur- 
 posing for himself a wide scholarship with which to meet 
 that responsibility and adorn that ministry. Such is the 
 character of John Dempster as he appeared to his pupils. 
 To those of you who saw him only as he hastened along 
 your streets or sat quiet on public occasions, this may 
 seem overdrawn ; but to those who have known him in 
 the no less stirring world of the recitation-room, these 
 words will find ready response. Communicating knowl- 
 edge like Coleridge, gaining confidence like Napoleon, 
 winning affection like Melancthon, awakening interest 
 like Socrates, giving encouragement like Wesley, and 
 kindling inspiration like Peter the Hermit, he stood, in 
 his sphere of systematic theology, an instructor without 
 a superior, if not without a peer. In the mission on 
 
DE. DEMPSTEE AS A MANAGE PEOGEESS. 63 
 
 which he was sent into the world, he is the man of his 
 century, and his works shall follow him. 
 
 DR. DEMPSTER AS A MAN OF PROGRESS. 
 
 BY REV. O. H. TIFFANY, D. D. 
 
 Distinction is achieved by some men, and is thrust 
 upon others : some throw the grandeur of their personal 
 genius over every act of common life ; others, who lead 
 humbler lives, are made""famous by the works which fol- 
 low them. The first class, for the most part, are devoted 
 to self ; the second class, more generally, are devoted to 
 God. Public aj^plause, in all its forms of notoriety and 
 adulation, is the reward of those who seek display for 
 selfish ends ; fame, the approbation of good men, is the 
 boon God often gives to those who follow him. The 
 marks of progress are close upon the footsteps of the 
 earnest worker of God, who toils on, unconscious 
 
 How the great world 
 Is praising him far off.” 
 
 The men of progress ‘‘go from strength to strength,” 
 heedless of men’s applause. Companionship with Him 
 who saw all things before they were has turned their 
 gaze away from the fleeting present to the eternal future. 
 With them “the goal of to-day is but the starting-point 
 of to-morrow.” 
 
 Such a man was Dr. Dempster. It were treason to his 
 memory to say he worked for fame. If the cause which 
 he espoused moved on, if God was glorified, his end was 
 gained. The triumphs of progress in which he took part 
 were not forecast in the brain of a dreamer, nor were 
 
 they the Utopian schemes of an idealistic reformer; thev 
 
 38 
 
64 
 
 APPENDIX* 
 
 grew out of the practical working of the system with 
 which he, as a Christian minister, was identified, and 
 resulted from necessities deA^eloped by experience. 
 
 As presiding elder on the Cayuga district of the Oneida 
 Conference he marked the fact that the preaching of the 
 Word brought into the fold of Christ the educated and 
 the influential. He feared that the control of educated 
 mind would pass from us with the lapse of the fervor 
 of a first love, and that the educated, failing to realize 
 needed culture from those who had convinced, would seek 
 their upbuilding at another shrine. He was ever jealous 
 for Methodism, and fearful lest having labored another 
 should build on his foundation. To meet their want 
 thus felt, he applied to Bishop Hedding for the transfer 
 of men of experience from the East ; and, as he said in 
 Conference, and often by the fireside, ‘‘The bishop shook 
 his gray locks and replied, ‘We have no such men to 
 spare.’ ” Men must then be made, was his conclusion ; 
 and to the making of such men his efforts were thereafter 
 devoted. All his energies were taxed to their utmost in 
 the prosecution of this work, and he shrank from no toil, 
 no sacrifice in its accomplishment. In the outset he had 
 to depend on his own energy and means ; for when he 
 with his associates kneeled to dedicate themselves and form- 
 ally to offer their services to God, there were no buildings 
 for instruction, no salaries for instructors, and but few 
 friends for the enterprise itself. Methodism, which was 
 born in a university, and which grew out of the life and 
 labors of an accomplished scholar, had come, in this re- 
 spect, almost to disregard the teaching of John Wesley, 
 and his example of studious toil. 
 
 Dawning upon the world in an age when spiritual 
 qualifications were considered, less essential than intel- 
 lectual accomplishment for the religious teacher, Method- 
 
DE. DEMPSTER AS A MAN OF PROGRESS. 65 
 
 ism had given such practical demonstration that minis- 
 terial efficiency was not the result of intellectual might or 
 of educated power, but of the spirit of the Lord of Hosts, 
 that the great body of believers had gone to an opposite 
 extreme, and seemed to believe that there was somewhat 
 of efficiency in the very absence of culture ; and, though 
 they honestly meant to give God all the glory, they made 
 mental reservation of a little credit to the lack of learn- 
 ing in the preacher. Add to this th6 fear which was 
 justly entertained of reverting to practices which had 
 proved ruinous enough to other Churches to necessitate 
 the organization of our own, and we can see how fearful 
 was the task attempted ; yet we know not that he ever 
 faltered. Faint sometimes from his weary efforts — sad- 
 dened often by repulses where he had hoped for sym- 
 pathy — but distrustful of the end or doubtful of the right, 
 never. Believing himself in no small manner called to 
 this work — aware of its importance to the Church and 
 to the world — he struggled and toiled till he mastered 
 opposition, conquered difficulties, and saw our Biblical 
 Institutes recognized by the General Conference as in- 
 stitutions of the Church. When the feeble beginning 
 at Newberry had been consummated at Concord, he 
 turned his eye westward, and was not slow to enter 
 upon similar labors in the great North-West, where, 
 greeted by the benefactions of a pious matron — a mem- 
 ber of the Church in which we are now assembled — he 
 laid the corner-stone and assisted in the founding of a 
 second institute. Here he labored and taught; but his 
 fame will rest not on his teachings, but his toils ; for 
 long after the philosophy he investigated shall have ceased 
 to interest and to instruct, the results flowing from the 
 fact of organized ministerial culture will still fill the 
 world with blessing. 
 
66 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The spirit of progress ‘‘ makes the coming life-cry 
 always, On and of this spirit he was full. From the 
 banks of Lake Michigan he looked over, across prairies 
 and beyond mountains, to the shore of the Pacific Ocean ; 
 mingling with the gentle ripple of the lake, his ear ever 
 heard the reverberation of the ocean surges, and the desire 
 was strong within him to complete a triad of benefactions 
 for the Church, by erecting on the western slope of the 
 Eocky Mountains another ‘‘school for the prophets.” 
 But it is enough for one laborer to have changed the 
 current of a Church’s life into a broader channel, and 
 to have placed, both in New England and in the ex- 
 pansive West, a Pharos — a beacon which should not 
 only guide but cheer. All honor to the man who, though 
 himself unblessed with early culture, so saw its need as 
 to devote the genius which was given him, as well as the 
 results of its consecration to the culture of his brethren. 
 
 The great problem of the age is freedom ; and with the 
 destinies of civil liberty the history of our Church has 
 been mysteriously interwoven. At a time when the 
 fathers of the Eepublic j)rovided shelter for slavery in 
 the Constitution as an evil which they fondly hoped 
 would be but short-lived, the fathers of the Church, in 
 1796, were asking every one whom they received, “What 
 regulations shall be made for the extirpation of the cry- 
 ing evil of African slavery?” The nation prospered, the 
 Church increased, but slavery flourished. All through 
 the Union the testimony of the Church was a rebuke to 
 the nation, as from Maine to Texas the question was 
 asked, “What shall be done for the extirpation of this 
 evil?” And in all the States the answer was made, that 
 “we are as much as ever convinced of the great evil of 
 slavery.” 
 
 Political profligacy debauched the national conscience 
 
DR. DEMPSTER AS A MAN OF PROGRESS. 67 
 
 and prostituted the national honor ; yet still the affirma- 
 tion of the Church was made, and her offices were re- 
 fused to those who were entangled in unholy alliance with 
 the gigantic evil. The time came when one of the chiefest 
 officers of the Church became by marriage ‘‘connected 
 with slavery.’’ The facts in the case and the principle 
 involved were discussed in the General Conference of 
 1844, and by a vote of one hundred and eleven to sixty- 
 eight Bishop Andrew was directed to “desist from the 
 exercise of his office as long as this impediment remains.” 
 Bishop Andrew desired to resign the office which he held, 
 and had written his resignation, but was prevented from 
 so doing by the remonstrance of his brethren from the 
 Southern Conferences, who had already decided that slave- 
 holding was no disqualification. The result was the rup- 
 ture of the Church, and the formation of a Methodist 
 Episcopal Church South. Advantage was taken of this 
 result to stifle the growing sentiment of the Church, and 
 prevent its utterances for freedom on the ground of an- 
 ticipated injury to the border Conferences, though their 
 representatives had brought the Church to the issue, and 
 had fought the battle of freedom. And for years the 
 Church added nothing to the force of its testimony, till, 
 instead of leading moral sentiment, it was far behind the 
 moral conviction of its membership. 
 
 The men of progress were aroused, and among them 
 John Dempster stood foremost, demanding, in 1856, that 
 the Church should speak, in language not to be mis- 
 taken, the conviction that slavery was “contrary to the 
 law of God and nature, and inconsistent with the Golden 
 Buie.” Loud were the anathemas of border State men; 
 deep were the execrations of the enemies of freedom ; 
 but, despite them all, in 1860 the Church righted, and 
 made the affirmation changing the rule, interpreting its 
 
68 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 own language, and placing itself before the nation and 
 before tlie world in a just position, to become a rallying- 
 point for tlie friends of freedom when rebeldom should 
 seek with armed violence to strike down human hope and 
 human liberty. The rebellion opened its batteries, mar- 
 shaled its armies, and flung its defiance in the face of the 
 nation. The men of the Union were paralyzed in their 
 efforts by their former concessions to the slave power, 
 and the great heart of the Kepublic was oppressed with 
 fear lest freedom should be circumscribed, and slavery ob- 
 tain advantages which might establish it forever. Then 
 the Christian men of the North-West, which territory 
 had by special act been set apart foi’ freedom, met in 
 council in Chicago, and selected W. W. Patton and 
 John Dempster to bear to the President of the United 
 States their religious conviction of his duty to issue a 
 Pi-oclamation of Emancipation. They stood before the 
 Chief Magistrate and reasoned with him of righteousness 
 and judgment ; and the opponents of the measure have 
 always charged that these men were greatly influential in 
 procuring for the nation that Proclamation which struck 
 off the fetters from 4,000,000 slaves, and by so doing 
 righted the Ship of State, changed the conduct of the 
 war from a policy to a principle, and made the line 
 of our national life parallel with our Declaration of In- 
 dependence. The bearers of that message were men 
 worthy of their mission : the one the pastor of a con- 
 gregation, owning no fellowship with slavery; the other 
 the representative of a Church which, in all the history 
 of the century, had been asking, ‘‘ What shall be done 
 for the extirpation of this great evil?” In these great 
 events, as we have seen, John Dempster w^as a leader. 
 He anticipated the future, and stood up to meet the com- 
 ing crisis ; and his name will be enrolled with those who 
 
13R. AS A MAN OF. PROGRESS. 69 
 
 repaiied the broken altars of the Temple of God, and 
 strengthened the pillars of national freedom. 
 
 This spirit of progress which was in him gave a charm 
 to his whole life and bearing. It kept him ever young ; 
 for it allied him in sympathy and in action with the 
 living, tlirobbing heart-beat of the moving world. To 
 whatever age his life might have been prolonged, he could 
 never have become an old man, or been alienated from 
 the onsweeping effort of determined progress. He never 
 joined in the querulous complaint of the ‘‘former days 
 better than now,’’ but his spirit ever was “leaving the 
 things which are behind press forward.” Right cheerily 
 did he welcome as an auxiliary every earnest man and 
 every earnest movement for the good of the Church. 
 
 Desiring progress, and believing well that every honest 
 effort was promotive of the truth, he stimulated discus- 
 sion with those who differed fiom him. And, though 
 the intensity of his own convictions may have prevented 
 somewhat his appreciation of the possibility of an equal 
 and yet opposite conviction in another, he delighted in 
 the exercise of conscious strength, and felt and claimed 
 that truth was near its triumph when the conflict waxed 
 severe ; and every one who felt his strength, or whose 
 desire is for truth rather than for victory, can judge with 
 what keen and exquisite relish he presented the opinions 
 which resulted from patient labor in his own chosen field. 
 Had he lived, the proposed extension of the term of 
 ministerial service and the idea of “lay representation” 
 would both have received his vote in the General Con- 
 ference, for they commended themselves to his matured 
 judgment as progressive movements demanded by the 
 times. He may have felt that all the means and methods 
 used to secure the association of laymen in the councils 
 of the Church were not wise, but he felt also that much 
 
70 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 of the opposition to it was factious, partisan, and un- 
 generous ; that the ‘‘let well enough alone cry of many 
 was the very rallying shout of those whom he had met 
 and vanquished as the foes of ministerial culture, and his 
 age would not have deterred him from engaging their 
 weapons, answering their arguments, and overcoming 
 their prejudices ; while the recollected achievements of 
 his earlier manhood would have invested his position 
 with a moral fitness almost sublime. 
 
 Great minds can never cease ; yet have they not 
 
 A separate estate of deathlessness ; 
 
 The future is a remnant of their life ; 
 
 Our time is part of theirs, not theirs of ours.’’ 
 
 The lesson of John Dempster’s life — spent as it was in 
 grappling with error and in mastering the difficulties that 
 opposed progress — pervaded as it was with that “sym- 
 pathy with God” which is “the master spirit of true 
 progress” — speaks to us at this hour, saying: 
 
 “Breast the wave, Christian, when it is strongest; 
 
 Watch for day, Christian, when night is longest; 
 
 Onward and onward still be thine endeavor; 
 
 The rest that remaineth endureth forever. 
 
 Fight the fight, Christian — Jesus is o’er thee; 
 
 Run the race, Christian — heaven is before thee ; 
 
 He who hath promised faltereth never; 
 
 0, trust in the love that endureth forever. 
 
 Lift the eye, Christian, just as it closeth ; 
 
 Raise the heart, Christian, ere it reposeth ; 
 
 Nothing thy soul from the Savior shall sever; 
 
 Soon shalt thou mount upward to praise him forever.” 
 
 His departure we have seen, and each of us has cried: 
 “My Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel and the 
 horsemen thereof!” God grant that whoever may he 
 called to wear his mantle may possess a double portion 
 of his spirit 1 
 
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