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BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS 
 
 TO THE 
 
 GRADUATING CLASSES 
 
 OBERLIN COLLEGE 
 
 JUNE 28. 1891 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES MONROE 
 
OBERLIN NEWS PRESSES. 
 
BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 
 
 T he words of the Apostle Paul, as they are found in a 
 part of the eleventh verse of the fourth chapter of the 
 Epistle to the Philippians, will furnish the basis of the address 
 to be presented on this occasion. “For I have learned, in 
 whatsover state I am, therewith,” or as the Revised Version 
 reads, “therein, to be content.” The context shows that 
 this declaration of the apostle had reference to the things 
 which he had been called upon to suffer, — especially from 
 the lack of worldly wealth, — rather than to the things which 
 he had been called upon to do. It does not seem to have 
 occurred to him that a true man could be discontented with 
 any amount of hard, faithful, self-denying Christian work. 
 But the principle announced, — that of contentment in every 
 state, — is, in form, broad enough to include the whole life 
 of the man, active as well as passive, and to justify the use 
 of the text as suitable to my subject, which is, “ Contentment 
 in the performance of common and present duties.” 
 
 This age has often and justly been called a restless age; 
 and perhaps there is no country in the world to whose in- 
 habitants the remark is so applicable as to those of the 
 United States. Now so far as this charge of restlessness 
 implies that there are a multitude of people in this age who 
 will never be content until the highest and best things are 
 done and achieved, it implies something wholly commenda- 
 ble. So far as it means that there are thousands of men 
 and women, in this and other lands, who will take no rest 
 and give us no rest until, in all men’s souls, there shall exist 
 hearty consecration to the service of God and the welfare of 
 man, it means something that we all thank God for and 
 
4 
 
 pray may never cease until its great ends are accomplished. 
 There is such a thing as a divine unrest. There is such a 
 thing, — as President Finney would put it, — as a holy dis- 
 satisfaction. God has an army of workers who will have no 
 peace, and give us no peace, until all ungodliness, all misan- 
 thropy, all self-seeking, all uncharitableness, all spiritual 
 apathy, all narrowness, all coldness, all baseness, all barren- 
 ness, all littleness of mind, — what De Quincey calls parvan- 
 imity, — shall be put out of their own hearts and out of our 
 hearts. Let us cherish such people. They are wholesome 
 neighbors for us to have. 
 
 But in calling your attention to the restlessness of the 
 age, I had in mind something quite different from this, — 
 indeed, the very opposite of it. I had reference to the wide- 
 spread and often bitter discontent which men indulge in 
 regard to the place and the work which Divine Providence 
 has assigned to them. They are dissatisfied with the degree 
 of worldly advantage which they possess. They have 
 neither the position nor the income which they desire. They 
 have duties in the discharge of which they might be useful; 
 but these duties are lowly and bring but a moderate com- 
 pensation and so are uninteresting. They are eager for 
 larger recognition and greater emolument. They wish to 
 do great things at once and to be talked about and courted 
 and rewarded. But these results do not follow. They have 
 great things to offer to the world, but the world has little to 
 give to them. They soon fall into a condition which I 
 think one of the saddest in all human experience, — that of 
 unappreciated merit, — and become restless, complaining and 
 soured. 
 
 This discontented state of mind in the performance of 
 every day duties might be variously illustrated. 
 
 Let us take the case of a young lawyer. Let us suppose 
 that one of our own alumni has gone forth from us, has 
 studied law and has settled in some town in the west. After 
 
5 
 
 a time he returns to visit us. We are glad to see him, as we 
 are always glad to see old pupils. We inquire about his pros- 
 perity in his profession. He answers “that he has not done 
 very well — that he doesn’t think he is quite appreciated in 
 the town where he resides — that he has not had much prac- 
 tice as yet.” We reply, “Well, if you have not had many 
 cases, you have doubtless done your best with those that 
 you have had.” He rejoins, “I can’t quite say that I have; 
 my causes have not been of a kind to furnish inspiration.” 
 “Then you must have had a great deal of leisure, and you 
 have doubtless improved that to extend your knowledge of 
 the law and to devote to that noble science much hard and 
 thorough study.” No, because he had not had the kind of 
 business to excite interest and to draw out his powers. He 
 is so constituted that to do great things he must have great 
 opportunities. “ But you have, at least, taken a stand for 
 the Christian faith and joined a Christian church.?” He has 
 not, because he has not felt settled. In fact he has not been 
 in a condition to enjoy religion. Has he not done some- 
 thing for the cause of temperance.? O, no! That cause is 
 so unpopular in his town that to engage in it would be fatal 
 to his success. Has he taught a class in a Sunday school.? 
 He is sorry to say that he has not. His mind has been so 
 much occupied with great plans for the future that he could 
 not quite get down to that. Has he visited the poor and 
 unfortunate, and been active in aiding them.? No; he had 
 no desire to make their acquaintance for they could furnish 
 him no profitable litigation. In fine, he has given his whole 
 thought to worldly success and has got very little of it. The 
 failure of such a young lawyer would seem to be nearly self- 
 explanatory. 
 
 I trust that such a case as I have described is exceptional, 
 and, of course, I do not claim that there has been any case 
 precisely like it in all its details. But I contend that there 
 have been many cases so much like it, that, if the parties 
 
6 
 
 concerned were present to-day, they would have a shrewd 
 suspicion that their experience had contributed to the mate- 
 rials for this discourse. 
 
 Again, take the case of a young graduate who proposes 
 to engage in teaching. He desires to obtain at once a good 
 place in some college or, at least, some important and 
 profitable position. But it so happens that the only thing 
 which offers is a very common school in a country place. 
 He accepts it because he must live, but is restless and dis- 
 contented. He brings neither heart nor mind to the work 
 which Providence has given him. Both parents and children 
 soon discover that he takes no satisfaction in his duties. In 
 moments of impatience, he will perhaps say this in their 
 presence. The dissatisfaction becomes mutual, and he may 
 not even teach out the term for which he was employed. 
 He attributes his failure to the fact that neither the place 
 nor the emolument is worthy of his powers. His employers 
 attribute it to his lack of good sense and want of interest in 
 his labors. 
 
 I have even heard of restless and disappointed clergymen. 
 Let us hope that they are not numerous. It is but simple 
 justice to the clerical profession to admit that, in the very 
 act of deciding to follow it, a young man must renounce 
 much of worldly motive and worldly expectation. I think 
 too you will agree with me that clergymen, as a class, are as 
 cheerful and hearty a set of workers as can be found. But, 
 self-contradictory as it may sound, there are some discon- 
 tented and complaining ministers of the gospel — men, the 
 history of whose grievances, if you pass a day with them, 
 will consume much of the time. They have fallen upon evil 
 days, and depraved persons have taken pleasure in thwart- 
 ing their efforts to obtain places and salaries worthy of their 
 powers. It is a pitiful sight to see a clergyman pass his life 
 in a quarrel with the world for not giving him more of its 
 temparal advantages. 
 
7 
 
 Perhaps the restlessness of which I have spoken is more 
 general and more feverish in business and in politics than 
 it is in the professions. But these occupations time will not 
 permit me to include in the discussion. 
 
 What I have said thus far presumably relates to graduates 
 or to persons of corresponding maturity of life. But under- 
 graduates are sometimes seized with this spirit of unrest. 
 They sometimes make the mistake of supposing that the ob- 
 ject of a college course is not to lay a common foundation 
 for the subsequent study and practice of all the professions, 
 but that its object is to enable young men to enter, in some 
 measure, at once, upon the professions or other occupations 
 of later manhood. The thought seems to be, why waste 
 time on college text-books, when you ought to be grappling 
 with the practical affairs of life } Thus the undergraduate 
 sometimes becomes impatient of present and common du- 
 ties. The quiet and patient mastery of Latin or Greek or 
 Mathematics or Philosophy and, along with this, the mas- 
 tery and effective use of one’s own powers, seem like a dull 
 business compared with the applause to be acquired in en- 
 gaging in certain kinds of semi-professional or outside work. 
 Is not present reputation more than an adequate compensa- 
 tion for impaired scholarship ? And thus the college stu- 
 dent would bring forth the top-stone with shoutings, before 
 the foundation is securely laid. I take pleasure in adding, 
 however, that I think the restless spirit which sometimes 
 appears among undergraduates, is due not so much to de- 
 liberate self-seeking as to a kind of contagious fashion which 
 'spreads from college to college, and in the observance of 
 which each college must, of course, be included. May we 
 not hope that this fashion, like others, will soon pass away 
 and will be succeeded by the fashion of a noble devotion to 
 Christian scholarship } I have sometimes thought that all 
 that is needed to accomplish this, is that some influential 
 college should take the lead in it. Why will not Oberlin be 
 
8 
 
 the pioneer in this work ? Why should we not, from this 
 time onward, take a just pride in accurate and thorough 
 scholarship ? Would it not delight our friends everywhere 
 to hear that we had men in Oberlin who could beat Ann 
 Arbor, beat Cornell, beat all the colleges in this part of the 
 country, not perhaps in base ball, but in Greek scholarship 
 and in original work in Science ? Let us have Oberlin men 
 and women who will stand up and, at sight, render the im- 
 mortal dialogues of the greatest master of the noblest tongue 
 of antiquity — the language in which philosophy and the 
 Gospel have come to us from the past — out of that language 
 into the most vigorous language of modern times, with such 
 delicacy, precision, clearness and racy force, that the learned 
 hearer shall be in doubt whether most to admire the Greek 
 dress or the English. Let us have Oberlin men and women 
 with such trained powers of observation and analysis and 
 with such an inspired sympathy with the divine order and 
 the divine methods of classification that they shall add new 
 conquests to the domain of science. But all this requires 
 much patient performance of present and common duties 
 and more self-denial than some of our brightest men have 
 always been able to exercise in refraining from pursuits 
 which seem for the moment brilliant and attractive, but 
 which are not favorable to the prosy work necessary to ac- 
 curate scholarship. I feel, however, that this subject is bet- 
 ter suited for a Thursday lecture than for the present occa- 
 sion; and, besides, I am not sure that I have the courage to 
 say all that ought to be said in regard to it. 
 
 I now ask your attention to some of the evils which ac- 
 company the restless and discontented state of mind which 
 I have described. 
 
 I. In the first place, this state of mind proposes to the 
 subject of it a wholly false end of life. The end which it 
 proposes is temporal and worldly advantage for self. The 
 end which God proposes is the highest welfare of all his 
 
9 
 
 creatures. That worldly good which God designs to be a 
 mere refreshment by the way, the restless man makes the 
 great object of his journey. To realize the true end of life, 
 a man must be in harmony with the plans of God, must be 
 a sympathetic part of those plans and must have a heart set 
 upon their success. But a selfish discontent puts a man out 
 of adjustment with the divine plan. It puts him in wrong 
 relations to God and human welfare and the attributes of 
 his own being and the very forces of nature. He must fight 
 against the stars in their courses. It fills his life with un- 
 wholesome antagonisms. In the midst of a universe where 
 all the primal forces of mind and matter are working towards 
 God and towards the common happiness, his face is set the 
 other way. His position is one of danger — dangerous to 
 others, certainly destructive to himself. He is like the man 
 who, regardless of the time table and the manager’s orders, 
 starts out his car in the wrong direction along a single track 
 where there is no switch and no turnout, and where all the 
 fast and heavy trains are coming on to meet him. He may 
 throw others from the track, but only annihilation can be in 
 store for him. 
 
 2. In the next place, this restless state of mind of which 
 I have spoken deludes its victims with false promises. The 
 wealth, the fame, the worldly position which are promised, 
 are not realized. The immense majority of those who strive 
 for great worldly advantage are, of course, disappointed. In 
 all departments of activity, the great successes, from the 
 nature of the case, are few. The number of business men 
 who become millionaires — of clergymen who secure city 
 pulpits with salaries of ten thousand dollars a year — of law- 
 yers who receive fifty thousand dollar fees for the manage- 
 ment of a case, or become justices of the Supreme Court — 
 of physicians who can charge a hundred dollars for a half 
 hour’s conversation with a patient, is so small in comparison 
 with the whole body of men engaged in these vocations, 
 
10 
 
 that, for all practical purposes, it may as well be left out of 
 the account. It is entirely safe for you and me to assume 
 that we shall never achieve any such success nor anything 
 like it. And yet, these are the prizes that kindle the aspir- 
 ations of ambitious young men. 
 
 It has been often stated, and never, that I am aware of, 
 denied, that a majority of those engaged in business in our 
 cities, at some time become bankrupt. 
 
 Last summer, I learned something about the salaries of 
 ministers. I visited an old historic town of the state of 
 Connecticut. Its Congregational church has a noble his- 
 tory. It has at present an excellent and useful pastor, who 
 receives an annual salary of six hundred dollars and the use 
 of a modest parsonage. In an adjoining parish, where 
 there is no parsonage, they pay their minister five hundred 
 dollars, and in one a little more remote, four hundred dol- 
 lars. As I have spoken of these ministers, let me add, in 
 justice to them, that I met them all and found them to be 
 educated Christian gentlemen. I could not discover that 
 either of them thought that he was abused or unappreciated. 
 
 I suggested to the man of four hundred dollars that his sal- 
 ary seemed rather low. He answered cheerfully, “Yes, but 
 I have a small glebe which helps me out.” My private 
 opinion is that each of these men is happier than the Van- 
 derbilts. I believe that a majority of the Congregational 
 pastors of New England receive not more than six hundred 
 dollars per annum. Now six hundred dollars is a respecta- 
 ble sum of money, and one upon which a family may be 
 brought up decently in the fear of God. But I suppose 
 that it is hardly a sum which Satan would suggest as an 
 object of worldly ambition. It would seem that unless our 
 colleges and seminaries can turn out men who can support 
 a family on six hundred dollars, a majority of the New 
 England churches and perhaps of all the churches of our 
 denomination, will have to go without pastors. 
 
I 
 
 You may say, if the prospect is so discouraging in the 
 ministry, we will enter the profession of law. But the pros- 
 pect is still worse there. An average man will consent to do 
 without a law-suit sooner than without public worship. The 
 papers often speak of the multitude of young lawyers in our 
 cities who can hardly pay for their board and lodging. I 
 have sometimes thought that if a skillful writer would prepare 
 a full account of the distresses of half-starved young lawyers 
 in the city of New York, it would be as pathetic as Helen 
 Campbell’s account of the distresses of the needle-women 
 in the same city. 
 
 Do not misunderstand me. I fully believe that a young 
 man of good principles and fair ability who chooses an oc- 
 cupation suited to his taste and talent, may reasonably ex- 
 pect a comfortable support for himself and his family, and 
 the friendly appreciation of his fellow men. But to expect 
 more than this is unwise, and to set his heart upon some 
 great worldly achievement, is simply madness. Is it not 
 safe to assume that there are at least half a million of young 
 men in our country who intend to be United States Sena- 
 tors ? Now when we remember that there are but eighty- 
 eight United States Senators in all, and that each of them is 
 elected for a term of six years, we can see how few of the 
 five hundred thousand will ever realize their dream. In 
 comparison with this, the chance for a prize in the Louisi- 
 ana Lottery, might almost be called a probability. There 
 is some story about a weak-minded man in Illinois who went 
 to splitting rails in the expectation that it would make him 
 President of the United States. We smile at this; but this 
 man was only a good type of those who enter any occupa- 
 tion risking all upon the hope of obtaining some one of 
 what are called the great prizes of life. Let us disabuse our 
 minds on this point. Our youth have sometimes been 
 badly taught. I remember when a Connecticut school-mas- 
 ter used to say to his boys that any one of them could be 
 
12 
 
 president of the United States. He might have added that 
 he not only could be, but was pretty certain to be, whenever 
 he should get a majority of the electoral votes. No, the 
 promises of brilliant wordly success which a restless ambi- 
 tion makes to the young heart, are false promises — they 
 are a delusion and a snare. 
 
 Again, this discontent of mind is accompanied with a 
 fearful waste of noble and precious gifts. It wastes youth 
 and manhood and time and power. It wastes these grand 
 resources upon unworthy objects — wastes them in restless 
 striving — wastes them in disappointment — wastes them in 
 repining. What a sad spectacle of weakened and crippled 
 manhood does this moral condition furnish ! What an ob- 
 ject of mingled pity and contempt does that man become 
 who, instead of pressing on, in noble self-forgetfulness, 
 towards some high end, runs about nursing his own reputa- 
 tion and listening at all doors to learn what may be said of 
 him. In economics it is now recognized as one of the most 
 difficult problems, how to prevent a waste of force. But 
 who shall solve this higher and more difficult problem, how 
 to stop the waste of force caused by restless discontent } 
 May God grant that those splendid endowments which he 
 gave to men to make of this world a Paradise, shall no 
 longer be prostituted to childish and unworthy ends. 
 
 Once more, this restless ambition defeats its own object. 
 The subject of it is making an illegitimate use of his powers. 
 He knows this, and the knowledge weakens him. He knows 
 that he is going wrong, and it unnerves him. Energy mis- 
 directed is energy diminished. He cannot do his best. His 
 mind is biased by morbid feeling and partiality for self, and 
 his judgment is at fault. He can no longer do the shrewd 
 thing at the right moment. Having ceased to be wise, he 
 cannot even be politic. He is constantly lamenting his mis- 
 takes of the past. And devotion to self-advancement awak- 
 ens opposition. It gives notice to all competitors that the 
 
13 
 
 man will get as much as possible for himself and leave as 
 little as possible for them. In the competitive struggle for 
 worldly advantage, what form of antagonism would such a 
 revelation of character fail to develope ? He may strive to 
 conceal from others the controlling motive of his life, but it 
 will be in vain. Opinion of him is forming every day and 
 soon becomes quite fixed. Even men who have no com- 
 peting interest will take a certain satisfaction in seeing such 
 a man defeated. You hear it said, “he thinks too much of 
 himself, he needs taking down.” In extreme cases men 
 even like to tease and worry him. It is quite possible to 
 try too hard to promote one’s own interest. The history of 
 our country furnishes a long list of candidates for the Pres- 
 idency who are believed to have failed because they made it 
 too much the object of their lives to obtain it. It is with 
 regret that one sees upon this list the great name of Clay 
 and the greater name of Webster. Was ever a greater con- 
 cession made to win political favor than Webster’s seventh 
 of March speech with its defence of the Fugitive Slave Law ? 
 The price which he was willing to pay for the Presidency 
 seemed wrung in blood from the great heart of the man, but 
 it did not bring the expected equivalent. To have given 
 all, and to have got nothing! It broke his heart. Upon 
 the monument of many of our public men the text might be 
 appropriately engraved, “He that would save his life shall 
 lose it.” Self-seeking nurses self-consciousness. The man 
 never loses himself in his work, is never free from the thought 
 of his own relations to everything about him. This self- 
 consciousness, besides making his life thoroughly uncom- 
 fortable, is most unfavorable to the attainment of his object, 
 as we notice in oratory and writing. Vanity lurking in the 
 sentence and quavering in the modulations, destroys the 
 true effect. Self-seeking is as unwise in policy as it is un- 
 sound in morals. 
 
 After what has been said, I need scarcely add that a state 
 
14 
 
 of discontent in the performance of duty, is fatal to the hap- 
 piness of him who indulges it. If it is destructive to the 
 happiness of a rational being that he should propose to him- 
 self false instead of true ends of life — that he should be con- 
 stantly deluded by false promises — that his fairest gifts of 
 mind and body should be wasted upon unworthy aims — that 
 his course should be such as to defeat the very objects upon 
 which his heart is set — then the restless and discontented 
 man must be miserable; for, as we have seen, all these evils 
 are the natural fruit of his state of heart. Indeed, discon- 
 tent in the performance of common and present duties im- 
 plies unhappiness, almost as a matter of definition. 
 
 But it is time to pass from the consideration of this state 
 of mind to a view of its opposite, which the discussion of 
 this side of the question may have prepared us the better to 
 appreciate. It is time to consider directly what was an- 
 nounced as the subject of the day — “Contentment in the 
 performance of common and present duties.” The change 
 to this pleasanter field of thought will, I am sure, be a relief 
 and a refreshment. 
 
 Consider for a moment the essential excellence and moral 
 elevation of this kind of life. 
 
 If I were asked to point you to the noblest exhibition of 
 human character, I should not point you to the man who 
 goes to the stake and perishes in the flames as an expres- 
 sion of his unshaken attachment to the cause of Christ; and 
 yet I will yield to no man in my reverence for the memory 
 of the martyrs. I should not point you to the man who, in 
 the front of battle, imperils or loses his life in defense of 
 country, of liberty, and of cherished institutions; and yet, 
 in the national House of Representatives, I often put on 
 record my affirmative vote, to bestow honors or pensions 
 upon such men or their children. I should not point you to 
 those who have hazarded their lives to rescue others from 
 fire and flood; and yet, grateful nations have granted them 
 
15 
 
 crosses of honor, and they have had honorable mention in 
 court gazettes. But I should rather point you to the man 
 who, immersed in duties not to his taste, and the perform- 
 ance of which is not comfortable for him, yet faithfully and 
 cheerfully performs them, day after day, month after month 
 and, if need be, year after year, without irritation and with- 
 out repining, with no special enthusiasm in himself, and no 
 applause from the world to sustain him, attracting no atten- 
 tion, producing no sensation, receiving perhaps not even a 
 word of cheer from those about him, and governed only by 
 a sweet, strong and unfailing purpose to be right and do 
 right, to work out the will of God and to bless those about 
 him. This is my hero, or perhaps I should say, my heroine; 
 for it occurs to me that, in our own town, woman has fur- 
 nished examples of this exalted character. We have some- 
 times known a widowed mother, who, left without property 
 and with a family of children, has come to Oberlin with the 
 purpose of educating them for Christian service. To sup- 
 port her family she rents a house, and fills it with boarders. 
 With no word of complaint, she toils all day from six in 
 the morning until late in the evening. There is no hope of 
 an eight hour law for her. At nine in the evening, when 
 the labor of the day is supposed to be done, and her chil- 
 dren are in bed, she sits down to the work of making them 
 presentable for attendance at school the next day. By 
 eleven o’clock, she can perhaps retire. Early the next morn- 
 ing, she is again in her place, with a pleasant face for her 
 boarders and a smile and a kiss for her children. Putting 
 her trust in God and denying herself every luxury and every 
 mere indulgence, she perseveres in this kind of life until her 
 children have graduated from college. Something very like 
 this has happened again and again in Oberlin. To me, such 
 a life would seem to be one of the highest forms of human 
 excellence. If there ever was a more truly heroic character 
 than that of a widowed lady who died, a few years since, on 
 
i6 
 
 West College street, I have failed to hear of it. I never 
 knew of her committing but one sinful act. Out of her pov- 
 erty, she once subscribed a hundred dollars in aid of the 
 Second Church. Some one asked her how she expected to 
 pay it. Lifting up her hands, worn with toil for her chil- 
 dren, and her neighbors when they needed it, she replied, 
 “These hands will help me to raise the money.” Without 
 any Papal authority, I have canonized this woman. If you 
 will look into my church almanac, you will see, entered op- 
 posite to her birthday, her sainted Christian name. The 
 case is a homely one, and may excite a smile. It has in it. 
 little of poetry or romance; but which of us would not give 
 “all the blood of all the Howards” and all the wealth of all 
 the Rothschilds for the crown which she wears to-day.? In 
 my judgment there are many persons who would go to the 
 stake and send up their souls in flame, or die in the shock 
 of battle, or appear respectably under some other fearful 
 ordeal, who would not have the sweet Christian steadiness 
 required in such a life as has now been considered. 
 
 Furthermore, contentment in the performance of common 
 duties, is not only one of the noblest forms of moral excel- 
 lence, but it is that type of character with which every thing 
 that merits the name of success is better achieved than 
 with any other. Perhaps we need a new definition of suc- 
 cess. Disinterestedness is success; integrity is success; Chris- 
 tian fortitude is success; a strong and noble manhood is suc- 
 cess; a healthy, steady and solid growth is success; patient 
 continuance in well doing is success; at least, as Paul shows 
 us, it is the right road by which to seek “glory and honor and 
 immortalit}^,” and these are success. And all these qualities 
 are attributes of the virtue of which I am speaking. The 
 contented man cannot fail of his reward, for his reward is 
 found in the good which he imparts. Besides, as he is self- 
 poised, as he holds himself well in hand, as he reduces fric- 
 tion with his fellows to a minimum through unselfishness, he 
 
7 
 
 is in the best condition to obtain whatever he ought to have 
 and whatever is good for him. His type of character is a 
 natural basis for all real success. Say what you will, all 
 good things have an affinity for such a man, and do tend 
 toward him; and his fellow men, to a considerable extent, 
 feel the suitableness of this, and help it forward. The way 
 opens for him to every accession of fortune which is really 
 desirable. This law of moral government and doctrine of 
 the Scriptures is well stated by Emerson: — 
 
 “Laurel crowns cleave to deserts, 
 
 And power to him who power exerts. 
 
 Hast not thy share ? On winged feet, 
 
 /■ Lo ! it rushes thee to meet; 
 
 And all that Nature made thy own, 
 
 Floating in air or pent in stone. 
 
 Will rive the hills and swim the sea. 
 
 And, like thy shadow, follow thee.” 
 
 You all remember that Carlyle, in many places, commends 
 the manly performance of present duty as the true road to 
 victory. 
 
 “Yes, here,” says he, “in this poor, miserable, hampered, 
 despicable'actual, wherein thou even now standest, here, or 
 nowhere, is thy ideal: work it out therefrom; and working, 
 believe, live, be free. Fool! the ideal is in thyself, the im- 
 pediment too is in thyself: thy condition is but the stuff 
 thou art to shape that same ideal out of : what matters 
 whether such stuff be of this sort or that, so the form thou 
 givest it be heroic, be poetic. O thou that pinest in the im- 
 prisonment of the actual, and criest bitterly to the gods for 
 a kingdom wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth, 
 the thing thou seekest is already within thee, here or no- 
 where, couldst thou only see.” 
 
 A gentleman who is an alumnus of Oberlin College, who 
 was an officer of distinction in our civil war, was a member 
 of the cabinet of one of our Presidents, was Governor of 
 Ohio, and has filled many other responsible trusts, in all of 
 
i8 
 
 which he is believed to have done good work, told my fam- 
 ily that he once went into a Northwestern state to visit a 
 classmate, also an alumnus of Oberlin, who was preaching 
 the Gospel in a humble and retired parish. He said, “When 
 I saw the work which my friend had done for that parish 
 and the spirit in which he had done it, it made all the work 
 and all the honors of public life seem poor in the compari- 
 son.” He felt that the life of that minister was a noble suc- 
 cess. That preacher has since been called to a wider and 
 more conspicuous field of usefulness, and one of his sons 
 has achieved distinction and marked success in his profes- 
 sion. But the father goes on doing his work with the same 
 unpretentious, contented and loving spirit which he ex- 
 hibited when a humble pastor. 
 
 For forty-seven years I have known one life which has 
 seemed to me to be an ideal one as regards both success 
 achieved and contentment in the performance of common 
 duties. I have hesitated, for reasons of delicacy, about 
 speaking of this life, but it is clear to me that we ought not, 
 for such reasons, to be deprived of the profit of a brief refer- 
 ence to a career which is so remarkable and convincing an 
 illustration of the virtue of which I am speaking. The sub- 
 ject of such a reference must practice self-denial in permit- 
 ting it, as he has practiced it in so many other cases, for the 
 sake of that common welfare which, he has taught us, is 
 the foundation of moral obligation. For fifty-seven years 
 this man has been closely connected with a single college. 
 During that period, he has passed up through every grade 
 of rank, — if rank is the suitable word here, — which his col- 
 lege had to offer, from the lowest to the highest. He has 
 been successively self-supporting student, graduate, tutor, 
 professor, trustee, president. If the college did not give 
 him more of position and emolument, it was because it had 
 not more to give. Every expression of esteem and of con- 
 fidence which it was possible for his associates of the faculty 
 
9 
 
 and of the trustees to bestow upon him, they heartily be- 
 stowed; and when he reached an age which suggested the 
 thought of retiring from his more laborious duties, his chil- 
 dren — the pupils whom he had taught — rose up and called 
 him blessed. As an expression of their affectionate admira- 
 tion, and anticipating what, but for their act, the college 
 would certainly have done, they united in making a provis- 
 ion which secured to him a dignified and comfortable old 
 age. This would seem like a successful life. But there is 
 more and better to be added. His work as a teacher, dur- 
 ing the fifty-two years of its continuance, has been such, 
 both as to its quantity and quality, that I doubt whether it 
 has a parallel in the case of any other man in the country. 
 If I were asked to-day what is the most successful life that 
 I have ever known, I should hesitate long before I should 
 name any other than that which has now been described. 
 But the practical question for us is, how was this success 
 achieved. I answer, it was achieved on the principle that 
 whosoever will lose his life shall find it — on the principle 
 that, if a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it 
 bringeth forth much fruit — on the principle of devoting all 
 to the common good, and then leaving it to God’s provi- 
 dence to determine how much of personal advantage shall 
 be received in return. 
 
 He cheerfully undertook whatever teaching the College 
 had most difficulty in getting done, thus leaving for others 
 the work to which inclination drew them. I once heard him 
 say, that he should enjoy teaching the alphabet, on account 
 of the satisfaction which he should feel in seeing the young 
 mind acquire knowledge. What man ever found him de- 
 pressed and soured because the world is ungrateful.? What 
 man ever heard him complain that his compensation 
 was not what it ought to be.? Indeed more than once he 
 took the lead in proposing a reduction of salaries to save 
 the college from embarrassment. Who ever heard him con- 
 
20 
 
 tending that he had not been advanced as rapidly as he 
 merited, or that his gifts were not appreciated, as they 
 should be, by his colleagues? When did he ever strive or 
 cry? or cause his voice to be heard in the streets? And yet, 
 the advanced positions for which his tastes and natural en- 
 dowments fitted him, probably came at just about the times 
 when his growing experience and ability had equipped him 
 for them and made them desirable. This has indeed been a 
 life of success, but success which has been reached by that 
 humble and, many would think, hard road, the contented 
 performance of common and present duties. I congratulate 
 Oberlin College, I congratulate this great audience and I 
 congratulate these graduating classes, that Oberlin has pro- 
 duced such a man and that we are still permitted to have 
 him with us. I further congratulate you all that, there are 
 now many and growing indications that, in devotion to the 
 welfare of the College and to the cause of Christ, in disin- 
 terested zeal and activity, in self forgetfulness and self denial, 
 our former President will have in our new one, a worthy 
 successor. 
 
 My young friends of the Graduating Classes: — 
 
 It would seem hardly necessary to add that the subject 
 now presented has important connections with your future 
 life work. But it must not be inferred from what has been 
 said that I would not have you make an effort — even an 
 earnest effort — to obtain occupation suited to your natural 
 ability, your acquirements, and your tastes. As a rule, to 
 seek such occupation is to seek that in which you can be 
 most useful. But you may not get this at once. In excep- 
 tional cases, through some disability, or other affliction, you 
 may not get it at all. If you find the work which you de- 
 sire, you may, at first, obtain only the humbler and least 
 desirable parts of it. Then will come the time to learn in 
 whatsoever state you are therewith to be content. Then 
 will come the time to work on cheerfully, leaving it to him 
 
who is “a Rewarder of them that diligently seek him,” to 
 bestow so much advancement in the direction of your 
 wishes as is best for you. If you get but little of the world, 
 you must meet the disappointment in the spirit of Emer- 
 son. It is said that a half-crazed enthusiast once met him 
 at his gate and called out excitedly, “Mr. Emerson, the 
 world is coming to an end next Thursday!” “Well,” re- 
 plied the philosopher, “we can dp without it.” We can do 
 witJioiU the woidd. The one precious thing in the universe 
 of God is a loving heart. The odor which filled the house at 
 Bethany when the alabaster box was broken, and the oint- 
 ment was poured upon the head of Jesus, and which has 
 filled the world ever since, wherever the Gospel has been 
 preached, was not, in its deeper meaning, the odor of the 
 ointment of spikenard — very precious though it was — but 
 the perfume of the unselfish love which made the offering. 
 Doubtless there were men, deemed wise in that day, who 
 thought Herodias a successful woman. Was she not a 
 king’s wife.^ Such men would think poorly, in comparison, 
 of the simple, contented, domestic life of Mary of Bethany. 
 In the light of to-day we have learned to put a different es- 
 timate upon these lives; and the fierce and searching light of 
 a day yet to come will reveal the bottomless and impassable 
 gulf that separates them forever. No, you cannot do with- 
 out the contented and unselfish heart. With this you can 
 do without other things, and even of these, those which are 
 really for your good will certainly come. As you go on in 
 life, you will find the serenity and composure which accom- 
 pany contentment in the discharge of duty, the most favora- 
 ble condition for healthy growth and increase of power. 
 You will make progress by showing that you are too good 
 a man or woman for the place which you fill. When all men 
 say, “this man is worthy of a better position,” such posi- 
 tion is commonly near at hand. Indeed contentment in the 
 performance of common duties is the best way to the favor 
 
22 
 
 of God, to the favor of good men, to peace of mind, to self- 
 respect, to manly character and to all true success. Our 
 minds to-day are full of good auguries that this truth will be 
 illustrated in your history. This occasion is, in some re- 
 spects, a sad one and yet it is one of much high hope and 
 proud satisfaction. The benediction of all your teachers 
 rests upon you. I know not in what better words to give 
 you our united blessing than the words which the Lord com- 
 manded Moses should be used in blessing the children of 
 Israel — Israel, “whose children ye are, as long as ye do 
 well and are not afraid with any amazement”: — 
 
 “The Lord bless thee, and keep thee : 
 
 The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious 
 unto thee: 
 
 The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give 
 thee peace.”