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SERMONS AND ADDRESSES,

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EDWARD ALLEN TANNER/ D.'D.,'

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WITH A SKETCH OF HIS PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE, AND
SELECTIONS FROM HIS UNPUBLISHED
WRITINGS.

FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY,

CHICAGO : I NEW YORK :

148 AND 150 MADISON ST. I 80 UNION SQUARE : EAST.

Publishers of Evangelical Literature.

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892,

BY THE FLEMING H. EEVELL COMPANY,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

TO THE MEMORY

OF A
HUSBAND AND FATHER,

STRONG, TENDER AND TRUE,

THIS VOLUME
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED

BY
WIFE AND SONS AND DAUGHTERS.

181

PREFACE.

" Many a teacher," said an eminent divine, "has been per-
fectly satisfied with teachership, perfectly content to furnish
the materials and conditions of effective and conspicuous
activity to other minds and to rest, himself, in obscurity 'as they
went forth to prominence." Thus Socrates waited to speak
through Plato. Thus Gamaliel invested himself in Paul. Even
the Teacher of Teachers left to his disciples the promise of
"greater works" than His.

Such is the rule, not without pathos, of the true teacher's life.
" Can it be," asked a gatherer of statistics, some months ago,
"that President Tanner has never published any of his writings?''
Except upon requests of newspaper and magazine editors, he
never had.

Yet a man yearns for a monument of that sort. Step into a
library, visit an unfrequented alcove, and listen to the plead-
ing of the volumes. But their backs are turned toward the
world, and the shyness is mutual. Neither the longing to be
consulted by posterity, nor the loving anxiety to have another
thus remembered, is sufficient to justify a book.

Beneath the desire to honor a cherished memory and to
make these sermons and addresses easy of access, is an
earnest belief that they contain what will be of value to the
future historian of American education/and that their publica-
tion will renew and extend the quiet influence which Dr.
Tanner's words have had upon certain lives. This belief has
been strengthened by the expressions of many, here and there,
who have heard him in the pulpit and have loved him in his
life; even of some to whom, in their mental night at the Illinois

6 PREFACE.

Central Hospital for the Insane, "Chaplain" Tanner used to
bring at least the light of a cloudy day; and of a large number
of young men for whose Christian purity and strength he
labored, first as "Professor," then as "President."

All of the baccalaureates of the ten years of his presidency
at Illinois College are published, together with other sermons
and addresses, some from his earlier ministry, some from his
later, one written even beneath the on-creeping shadow of his
last illness. It is regretted that so much must remain in manu-
script. Variety of topic has been regarded in putting forth
these few productions from the many. Toward the end of the
volume, is a thesaurus of selections from his still unpublished
writings. No especial arrangement of them has been at-
tempted; may they be found helpful and suggestive in leisure
moments!

After all else was ready for the press, a sketch of " Private
and Public Life" was prepared, though with some hesitation.
No elaborate coloring has been sought. If we have kept in
harmony with the modest nature of the man; if we have con-
fined our own affectionate estimate to a true outline of his work;
if we have brought others to a better knowledge of his genuine
and lovable character, then we are content.

The preface of an English book, published the other year,
was simply a printed extract from the author's will, directing
what disposition should be made of his literary works. If one
could, in any way, reproduce those unwritten wills which lives
attest, our only prefatory allusion to these sermons and
addresses need have been the speaker's ruling purpose to be
of service unto all whom his words should reach.

Jacksonville, 111., November 2gth, 1892.

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE, 9

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1882, - - - 45

Inaugural.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1883, 59

Samson's Riddle.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1884, - - - 73
The Colleges of the Old West.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1885, - - 91

Christian Energy.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1886, - - - 105

Character Moulded by Thought.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1887, - - - 119
The Coming Half-Century.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1888, - - 133

Silent Building.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1889, - - - 14.7
The College as an Investment.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1890, - - - 166

Moral Supremacy.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS, 1892, - - - 182
Transformation of Character.

"ScATTERETH, YET INCREASETH," - - 196

Proverbs xi: 24.

FAITH, .-.---. 208

I Corinthians xiii: 13.

" KEEP THIS MAN," - - - - 221

I Kings xx : 39, 40.

8 CONTENTS.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY, - - - - 233

Galatians vi: 5.

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. - - - 247

I Timothy iv: 16.

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION, - 260

Philippians iii: 13.

REDEEMING THE TIME, - - - - -272
Ephesians v: 15, 16.

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE, - - - - 283

John ii: ib.

SYMPATHY IN SORROW, - - - - - 295
Address at the Funeral of James E. Tupper.

A GREAT PHYSICIAN, - - - - 301

Address at the Funeral of Dr. David Prince.

IMMORTALITY, - - - - - - 3 10

Job xiv: 14.

DIFFERENTIATION IN EDUCATION, - - 324

A Practical Application of the Principle.

CHURCH AND COLLEGE, - - - - - 335
Their Relation of Mutual Benefit.

VULCAN AND VENUS, - - - - - 346

The Union of the Useful and the Beautiful.

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM, - - - - .365
From an Ethical Point of View.

EARLY MEMORIES, - - ... - - 387
A Semi-Centennial Address.

SELECTED THOUGHTS, - - - - - 401
Extracts from Unpublished Writings.

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PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE.

Edward Allen Tanner was born in Waverly, 111.,
Nov. 29, 1837, having the distinction of being the
first child who could claim nativity in the place.
That father and mother, brothers and sisters should
come from the hills of New England, and he alone
have been denied the priyilege, was a grief to the
boyish heart. Says he: "The first enigma of life to
perplex my childish mind was the query, why did not
Providence ordain that I should be born a little
sooner, that my eyes should open to the light in
Litchfield county, Conn., and not in Morgan county, ~
111.? That mystery, with raven wing and dismal
croak, overshadowed boyhood."

But later the tone changes and the notes grow
triumphant "When one passes the statue of Doug-
las on the shore of Lake Michigan, and reflects upon
the state's vast material resources, so largely due to
the little giant's wisdom and energy; or when one
climbs the monument at Oak Ridge, and sits down,
at the feet of the colossal figure of the Great Emanci--
pator, and reviews the past and forecasts the future*;-;
or again, when one listens, and the autumn air-
vibrates with midsummer lamentation of the nations,
over the mighty warrior whom our own state sent to
deliver the republic, and to win the admiration of.

10 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

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the* WoMfl-^wKo^who would blush for nativity in
Illinois?"

, . ... j'j'Yhbtfgh -westerA fet^rji, though the ancestors of

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IT &**.* "TtL^^ b*iKsdd the sturdy New England

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blood that has been the sinew and the steadying
nerve of western growth. Long years ago three
brothers settled in the little town of Warren, Conn.
Around one of these brothers, Ephraim, grew a
family of eight children, one of whom afterward
became the mother of Dr.J. M.Sturtevant, for thirty-
two years president of Illinois College, and another,
Joseph Allen, the father of the subject of this sketch.

Joseph Tanner was a man revered by the people,
trusted for his sincerity and even judgment, loved for
the tenderness and sympathy of his broad nature-
In 1814 he married Orra* Swift, a woman of strong
sense, keen humor, and womanly spirit, and their
home with its high Christian conversation was like
the house of Obed-edom where the ark of God rested.
Into this home with its atmosphere of love and
devotion were born four children, two boys and two
girls; the youngest son, Ephraim, dying in early
boyhood.

Then came the call from the far west for the true
men of New England, and Joseph Tanner and his
wife recognized God's bidding; and His hand led
them away from comfort and sacred association,
through long journeying across dreary prairies unto
a strange land. Who can tell of the mingled emo-
tions of those brave pioneer hearts as at last, way-
worn and weary, they stood upon that lonely spot in
-central Illinois that was henceforth to be their home?
'"The Range" was all there was then of the village
known as Waverly a log house of three or four

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. - 1 1

rooms, a half dozen ruder cabins, scattered near, a
a mill at one side that was all. Here and there in
the distance were bits of timber, but for the most
part as far as eye could reach only prairie, prairie,
without sound to disturb the stillness unless it was
the hoarse growl of the prairie wolves. Humble
though it was, that log house was known for the
God-like spirit that reigned there, and as one by one
the true hearted sons and daughters of Connecticut
gathered in the little settlement, that home became
to them a hav.en of rest and a stronghold of courage .

Two years after the coming of the family to Illi-
nois the youngest child, Edward, was born. There
was no disloyalty to her other children, if the
mother's ringers lingered a little more lovingly over
the home-spun garments of this child, or if there
crept into the song she sung an added tenderness, as
holding her boy close she looked, not on the hills
and mountain streams of her old loved home, but on
the billowy motion of the long grass on the un-
bounded prairie.

Perhaps it was the impress of those early sur-
roundings, that all through mature years caused the
heart to stir whenever the man watched the waves
of the wind-swept grass. It never failed to call
forth shadowy recollections loved forms from the
past and youth's hallowed associations. It always
seemed a throb of nature answering to the pulsa-
tion of the mighty, bearing suggestions, to the
human, of green fields somewhere, yonder, fanned
by the wings of the Celestial.

When six months old the boy was left fatherless.
In his strong manhood Deacon Tanner was sud-
denly stricken. There was a struggle. Life was

1 2 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

sweet; visions of the future of the new country,
around which his hopes had centered, arose before
him and his wife and baby boy what of them?
But faith cried at last triumphant, "Though he slay
me yet will I trust in him." In the father's house,,
before the \birth of the boy, the Congregational
church of Waverly had been established. Thus the.
son writes, at the semi-centennial of the church, of
that early home and the little band that worshiped
there. . * * *

"Fifty years have effaced every trace of. my
father's old house, in which the church was formed.
I deem it no small honor, that the hearth-stone in
my father's cabin was the corner-stone of the Con-
gregational church of 'Waverly. The records are
not at hand, but unless memory is treacherous, there
were eight charter members, and every one of the
eight was a relative, either by blood, or by marriage.
You will, therefore, pardon the family nature of this
communication, and make due allowance for pos-
sible errors. Had Dr. Sturtevant survived to be
present on Tuesday, he could have given a vivid
picture of that scene at 'The Range,' fifty years
ago. It was before I was born, and my father, dy-
ing in my infancy, is only a hallowed name, except
that, now and then, when going to the heavenly
Father with cares and troubles, I have seemed to
feel the nearness of an earthly father, who was long-
ing to break the silence of the voiceless land, with
words of love and cheer for the child of his old age..

The pressure of that dying mother's hand upon
the head and those words of earnest prayer when
the death damp was gathering, were often a check
on boyish folly and wickedness; and to this day

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 13

they become a sweet benediction, whenever the
heart quickens with a desire for Christ-likeness.

There was Aunt Lucy, of whose face and form
memory gives no picture. But she was the literary
member of the group, and I recollect being shown
some of her papers, when a child, and wondering
whether I could ever learn to write such composi-
tions.

I think that my brother's wife, sister Lucy, Platt
Carter's sister Lucy, entered into covenant there
before God, fifty years ago. She took the mother-
less boy home, and from that day of adoption
treated him as if he were her own child.

June 1 5th, 1836, a young man wrote his name be-
neath that of Deacon Tanner, and began his training
in the service of the church the Theodore Curtiss,
who had been a deacon so long, and from whose
hands only, should I be willing to receive the bread
and the wine, June 1 5th, 1886.

There is another signature, that of a beloved
sister, who has been lingering for months on the
border line which separates the two worlds, but
who, through the unwearied attention of a faithful
physician, through the loving care of many friends,
through the sleepless devotion of her husband by
day and by night, and through God's over-ruling
providence, has been spared to complete the half
century.

There was that younger sister, the flower of the
family, of whom I can recall a single vanishing
vision of beauty.

The last of the group became her husband. He
was older, but it was a happy marriage. And,
though she was taken hence more than forty years

14 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ago, he has remained faithful to her memory. He
has attained to four-score, a most lovable old man.
It was my privilege, only the other day, to conduct
worship, at the family altar which he and that sister
set up in the long ago. Said he to another after-
ward: ' I grow more and more homesick for the
presence of my wife in heaven.'

So much for the church of 1836. You, brother
Hobbs, may read this in public, and then correct
any mistakes into which I may have fallen concern-
ing the charter members. You will also tell the
story of the intervening half century. Would that I
could be there, to listen to your mention of many
whom I have most highly esteemed.

Pardon a word for 1886, a word concerning my
father's life-long friend, 'Uncle Homer Curtiss.' It
was kindly ordered that I should be at Waverly,
the night before he died, and that I should receive
from him the last token of recognition given to any
one on earth. Two or three of us were standing by
the bedside. The son who has kept the fifth com-
mandment, as has no other of all my acquaintance,
could get no response. Said he: 'It is too late.' I
tried at first, in vain; but, finally, the weary spirit
seemed to wing its way back. I mentioned my name
and asked if he knew me. There was an attempt to
say yes, with a clasp of the hand. I repeated a few
words of the 23d Psalm, and asked whether they
were still sweet? Another attempt to say yes, and
another clasp of the hand. Said I: 'Uncle Homer,
will you take a message of love over to your old
friend, my father, on the other side?' No voice,
but a gentle pressure of the hand, and the weary

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 15

spirit fluttered across the line of communication be-
tween the audible and the inaudible.

It was the ist of May. That is usually a gala day.
I never before entered a graveyard, on that day;
but I spent an hour last May Day alone, in your
cemetery.

There was something in the sweeping of the wind
through the grass which recalled the pathos of
Tennyson's ' May Queen.' I read many of the half-
forgotten names, so familiar in boyhood. I lingered
around the monuments of Sackett and Brown, and
the tablet of Salter; but I found myself drawn back,
time and again, to two mounds without monument
or name, the one mound low and matted over with
flowering myrtle, the other heaped high with yellow
clay. And I sat down there awhile, with no one near
but God, and in silent worship, gathered the flower-
ing myrtle from my father's grave and scattered it
reverently upon the grave of 'Uncle Homer.'

And the closing words of the ' May Queen,' with-
out regard to age, or sex, or circumstances, were as
a hymn to the heart.

' Forever and forever with these just souls and true,

And what is life that we should moan, why make we such

ado?

Forever and forever, all in a blessed home,
And there to wait a little while, till you and others come.
To. lie within the light of God, as we lie together at last,
And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at

rest."'

During the few years that passed before she, at
the age of fifty-two, was called away, the mother
bravely tried to fill the father's place. She was one
of a little band of women who used to meet to pray
together for their children, and when she died she

1 6 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

left her child to their care and prayers. To the
power of his mother's- petitions and her dying appeal
for him the man of middle age bears witness. "Out
of the scenes of earliest boyhood, rises one recol-
lection, brighter and holier than any other. It is
that of a mother's last prayer. It was not so much
anxious as earnest and confident. The things that
had been 'kept and pondered in the heart' found
voice, a voice borne on, by white wings, over years
of carelessness, of folly, and of great sinfulness,
and here, this morning, above the altar of God,
dwelling not upon wealth and honor, but craving
and expecting, for the speaker, a closer grapple with
temptation, a gradual subjugation of the lower
nature, more love for men, more complete Christ-
likeness. Thus noiselessly but steadily does the
mother's ideal shape the future of the child."

An orphan at six, a new country, a veiled future
such was the vista that opened before the lonely
boy as he turned away from the lonely grave, but
the God of his fathers never forsook him. Tenderly
He led the boy up to manhood, sometimes by
thorny paths, but always leading, until there was
another grave and father and mother and son were
together again, all parting past.

The years following his mother's death, when he
lived during the winter schooling with his sister,
and in the summer helped in simple tasks on the
farm of his brother Elisha, gave tone to all his after
life. The lonely struggle of the sensitive heart, the
yearning for the father and mother love, that the
tenderness and kindness of the brother and sister
could not quite satisfy, called forth that strong

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. I 7

element of sympathy, so marked a characteristic of
his manhood.

As a child he was thoughtful, studious, shrinking,
yet fond of boyish sports, and possessed of a strong-
vein of humor which often found outlet and which
one little incident will serve to illustrate. One
night, when five or six years old, his nephew of
about his own age was with him. For two hours
they had been telling each other stories, till finally
the voices from the trundle-bed grew drowsy and
Edward said: " Come on, Allan, let's say our prayers
and go to sleep." "Oh," replied the other, "I've
said mine long ago." "Better say them again," was
the response, "God's forgot 'em by this time."

In 1849 a larger world opened before him. With
his brother he went to Springfield, but before two
years had passed his heart was again torn, for the
much-loved, big-hearted brother moved to Oregon
leaving the boy once more upon the border of the
untried. With aching, homesick heart the thirteen-
year-old boy came to Jacksonville to enter the pre-
paratory department of Illinois College. For six
years, until his graduation in '57, he made his home
with the family of his cousin, President Sturtevant,
spending his vacations with his sister in Waverly
and his brother-in-law in Springfield. He threw him-
self heartily into college life but his reserved, timid
nature made him shrink from general society, and
during these years he gave full play to his natural
taste for reading, building a broad literary foundation
for the work of his after life.

Meanwhile his religious life was quietly devel-
oping. Of his own conversion he says: "I can
point to no sud.den transition from darkness to

1 8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

marvelous light. When asked for my spiritual
birthday I cannot give it. The whole subject is in-
volved in confusion. And the best that I can say
for myself is, that I hope that when the books are
opened there, and the recording angel gets down to
my name, he will assure me that there can be no
mistake about it, that I am certainly my Father's
child."

There was a period of doubt when those vexed
questions concerning God and the Bible that have
been a stumbling-block to hundreds of others, con-
fronted him. But year by year these shadows
disappeared until in his maturity faith grew grandly
simple. It was this experience in his own life that,
ever after, gave him sympathy with those likewise
troubled. He seldom argued on such questions. If
they came from egotism he never noticed them.
If they were the burdens of a sincere soul he would
throw what light he could upon dark places, then
he was wont to say, "My friend, let these things
which you cannot understand rest awhile; let the
rest of the Bible go, take the Gospel of John and
follow your Master as you see Him there, and after
awhile these other things will have taken care of
themselves." The Gospel of John is referred to as
is no other book of the Bible, in his sermons. It
was the exposition, the sum substance of all he
longed for in his own life.

The four years after graduation pass by in pano-
ramic swiftness. There was one year spent near his
old home at Mud Prairie and Farmingdale, teaching
for twenty-five dollars per month, "boarding around."
Then followed a year as assistant in the seminary at
Waverly, another as principal; then one in the pub-

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 19

lie schools of Jacksonville, until the call came to the
Latin professorship in the Pacific University at
Forest Grove, Oregon. In the meantime, from the
academy in Jacksonville to her Waverly home, a
young maiden had returned, full of ambitious hopes,
and it came to pass that in advanced studies the
seminary teacher became the young girl's tutor, and
over the intricacies of Latin and Greek, instructor
and pupil found themselves confronting questions
more intricate still deep as life itself.

She was the daughter of a physician who, for the
love he had borne the father, ever felt for the son a
tender interest, but "when there came over the
youth that human longing which none escape, and
he went to the old doctor about it, how nervously
the young man watched the latter break sticks over
the blade of his pen-knife, till that awful silence was
broken by a delightful little speech about ' the hand
of Divine Providence ' in the affair in question."

The next year the pupil became the principal's
assistant in the seminary, and before long it became
known that the relationship would never be broken,
that all through life the woman would give herself
to the work of the man, cheering his pathway, shar-
ing his burdens. Those were bright days, golden
days of a romance that did not end, when one sum-
mer day, in 1861, amid the blooming of June roses,
Edward Allen Tanner and Marion Brown became
husband and wife. A separation from home, friends,
and a long ocean voyage followed; then a sojourn
of four years in Oregon years of pecuniary strug-
gle, years full of experience, years of joy inter-
mingled with sadness, for death cast its shadow and
their first born, a promising boy and the pride of

2O SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

their hearts, was suddenly taken. They laid him
away to rest on the hillside, where Mt. Hood in
white-crowned grandeur cast her stately shadows.

Those were primitive days. No costly marbles
adorned that quiet city of the dead, but upon one
little grave was a wooden cross with name and
date, and the story the passer-by read between
letters carved by a father's sorrowing hand was
eloquent with love. The child that slept there held
ever a sacred place in the father's heart. Years
after, he writes to his wife from the East, "These
Massachusetts hills keep recalling the hills of
Oregon, and I find myself thinking very often of
the face of the little boy whom we buried out
yonder. His face comes back to me quite distinct-
ly, just as it looked when I drew him around in
the yard, the afternoon before he died. With what
strange tenderness the heart reaches out into the
invisible!"

While engaged in his work as professor, the study
of theology was quietly carried on alone, until the
course was finished and a license to preach was
granted. At the close of the war the young man
was tendered the professorship of Latin in his alma
mater. The call was accepted, and with wife and
baby daughter he journeyed back to Illinois, to take
up his life work in the college. For seventeen years
he held the chair of Latin. In some respects it was
the most care-free period of his life. He was always
busy. In addition to his work in the college, he
carried, for fourteen years, until he was called to the
presidency, that of the chaplaincy of the Hospital
for the Insane, carefully preparing one sermon each
week. Yet, when shouldering the responsibilities of

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 21

a college executive, he used to speak of these days
as the play days of his life.

The strong domestic tastes, which in his young
orphan life had known no outlet, found full sweep
in his own home. He was always the near com-
panion of his children, adapting himself to them, in-
teresting himself in whatever, engaged them, sympa-
thizing with them in their little troubles. During
the long summer vacations, when health made it
necessary for him to resort to camp life on the
shores of Lake Superior and in the regions of the
trout streams, he writes letters to them, charming in
their descriptions of camp life, fresh with the touch
of nature, and to be remembered for the serious
thoughts interwoven. In one letter, full of humor,
he says, " I have thought very often, this Sunday
morning, about my boy being by and by a fisher for
trout, and then, a few years later, a fisher for men."
And again he writes: "I don't like this being so
cut off from you, but I think that our Father will
take care of us all. I want you to love Him and
serve Him. This trust in His watchful love, when I
am away from you, is very precious to me. Noth-
ing else \vould make me so happy as to know that
you were trying to please Him day after day. I
want you to be as dear to Him as you are to me;
and you three that are oldest are old enough to do
His will in children's ways, in little things, if not in
big things. But I would not lecture you too long;
I would have you look on this being a Christian, not
as a doleful subject, but as something bright and
beautiful."

Like sunbeams playing over the receding path of
childhood are the bright memories of days often

22 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

spent in the woods, when the father, throwing aside
work, gave himself to the pleasure of the hour, wan-
dering with his children among trees and through
thickets, as happy and care free as they.

Gradually the flock outgrew the little house on
Grove street, and a new home was built on College
Hill. In its care the owner enlisted his children's
interest. Often in the desire to help, their willing
but blundering ringers doubled the work; but their
efforts were lovingly commended and, without their
knowledge if possible, the mistakes patiently reme-
died. Yet there was a something that forbade un-
due familiarity. His fine control over a tempera-
ment naturally impetuous and high strung com-
manded respect. He was always just, always firm.
Punishment with him was rare, but when it came his
authority was not questioned. Once there was an
act of subterfuge and it proved the first and only at-
tempt. For some misdemeanor two of the children
had been sent to the study while the father made
his way to the inevitable peach tree. - It occurred to
them that prayer would be the most effective and
the only thing that might touch him and avert the
coming event. At once they got down upon their
knees. As they heard his step upon the stair their
childish hearts beat faster, but they prayed on.
With face still pale, but with the corners of his
mouth twitching, he waited upon the threshold for
awhile, then quietly suggested that the praying be
done a little later on.

As the children grew older the relationship be-
came even closer and more confidential. He was
the elder brother also. To one of them, whose
heart was sore under a first and genuine attack of

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 23

homesickness, he thus sympathetically writes: " I
remember, as if it were only yesterday, how distress-
ingly homesick I was the first time I went to stay
among strangers. I have wished a hundred times
that I could spirit you back to the old house, and
shield you from all cares and perplexities. It has
been a revelation of what God means when He says,
' As a father pitieth his children, so the Lord piti-
eth those that fear Him.' I have caught myself
saying, in the midst of the anxieties which multiply
around these later years, ' Can it be that you really
feel toward me as I do toward my heavy-hearted
child?' And then I turn things around the other
way. I am sure that these experiences will be good
for you, and that you will see it all by and by. And
so I am made more confident that I have God's sym-
pathy in disagreeables which must be somehow best
for me. Comfort yourself, then, with the thought
that you are confirming your old father's faith.
Cling to Him that is sympathetic and strong. I
have got a great deal of comfort, the last few days,
out of the words, ' I am with you always ' not
sometimes, my child, but ' always.' "

Such a life glows with inspiration. If in the
hearts of wife and children faith has been drawn
heavenward, by invisible cords, until they have
gained some faint conception of a Heavenly Fa-
ther's sheltering, loving kindness, it is by beautiful
interpretation through an earthly father, who, great
in little things, put aside self, and with a patient,
tender, sympathetic care, watched over those he
loved.

Edward Tanner was a lover of nature in all her
phases. The mountains and the ocean waves, the

24 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

sky, the birds, the trees, whatever it might be,
gave him some fresh thought that sooner or later
found voice. How often, during the long summer
evenings, he would sit on the veranda, in the grow-
ing twilight, with head thrown back, looking off at
rare bits of scenery visible, and then up at the great
forest trees he loved so well, his children by adop-
tion, and through their foliage up to the stars
beyond, till those seeing him thus, felt it almost
desecration to speak lest words might mar the
vibratory wave between the soul of the finite
and the soul of the infinite. And then, they,
seeing in the daily walk and life, growing patience
and sweetness of character, knew these silent
times with nature were to him mounts of trans-
figuration. In the hurried movement along life's
pathway he was never too busy to pause and listen
for the messages of these voiceless agencies. No
film of sordid worldliness dimmed spiritual vision.
Nature always won from him a tender reverence.
For him she never lost her heavenly mission, never
failed to beckon upward. Once from the shores of
the northern lakes he writes to his wife, "I am enjoy-
ing the solitude, listening to the waves beat on the
shore, writing some, reading some, day-dreaming and
thinking some. How the questions reach out into
the far away, and are lost in the haze, like the
mountains across the water forty miles yonder.
One seems so insignificant, until he remembers that
he is Our Father's child. I have been trying to
clasp that idea round, as I have walked along the
shore today, but the idea is too big for little me,
yet I believe." A little later he writes again: * *
"All things considered I've had the pleasantest

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 25

season I ever spent here. There have not been
many thrilling adventures, still I have had more
even enjoyment, and have recruited as rapidly as
ever. For all of which thanks to Our Father ! I
want to use this new strength for Him, and you, and
the children. I don't read my Bible much, I don't
,look at your picture and the children's faces very
much, but, as I go through the woods alone, I talk
to Him a great deal and think of you all. He seems
near and you safe. I could not be happy by myself,
all alone. I went to church this morning, but there
was not half so much worship there for me, as I've
enjoyed during this week in the forest."

A keen judge of human nature, he was himself as
simple as a child. When praise came to him it was
always accepted with pleased surprise. Two or
three days before his death he was told that one who
loved him had been praying for him. The thought
was sweet. "Perhaps," said he, "'tis a weakness in
my nature, but I do like to be liked." He was one
of the truest of friends. If one he loved ever proved',
disloyal he kept the hurt hid within his own soul,,
and rose manfully above petty retaliation. Perhaps;
in the union of a deep, earnest sincerity and a loving
sympathy the greatest power of the man lay. If
in the work of his chaplaincy he was successful it
was largely because of a tact which was the out-
growth of fine sympathy. If he brought the lives
of young men close to his own it was because they
felt his own life pulse to the warm beat of their own
youth. If, by word or prayer, he brought comfort,
into the house of mourning, it was because he carried'
the sorrow of that household on his heart. How the :
burdens of others wore upon his own strength, how-

26 SERMONS AND ADDBJSSSES.

they became a part of long sleepless nights, only his
family know.

In the summer of 1880 the news reached him from
Oregon, that his only brother had been drowned
while crossing the river on his way to church. The
shock was great. There were no words spoken.
The living brother, very quietly, took up his work
and went about his accustomed tasks. But on his
writing table, after that, the pictured face of the
dead always stood, as if the pen carrying its mes-
sages to other souls, gathered inspiration there. To
the one left the other never seemed far away. To
him the waves of the darkly rolling river brought no
dread, for the light from the other side shone across.

In the spring of 1882 the College called him to
the presidency. With characteristic self-forgetful-
ness, he did not ask whether the position would
honor him, but whether he could honor the position,
whether he were qualified to take the institution
where it was and raise it to a higher plane. There
were moments of prophecy flash visions of the
future and his part in that future but God kept
back, just within the veil, full knowledge of the
weary struggle toward the realization, of contact
with a rude world, of the trial for mastery of the
will over bodily weakness lest the soul, courageous
though it was, should grow faint with heaviness of
anticipation. After the determination was taken he
never wavered. Into the work he threw tremendous
nervous energy. It cost him much the sacrifice of
literary work to college minutiae, the wear and tear
upon a sensitive nature of financial solicitation, the
greater separation from home life but his feelings
were not the question, duty was plain. During a

PRIVATE 4VD PUBLIC LIFE. 2<J

trying business trip to New York for the purpose of
increasing endowment funds, he writes home: "I
sit here, looking out upon the rattle and rush and
glare of Broadway and want the quiet and dear
faces in the humble house .on College Hill. I grow
heavy-hearted as I think of the months and years of
separation and broken relation, which must be, till
this thing is accomplished. But, if it be God's will,
Amen."

He was persistent in what he undertook. If plans
failed in one direction with fertile resource he turned
effort into another channel. The college situation
was peculiar. Disappointments were often inev-
itable. They wore upon him, but day by clay it
became evident to those in his home that under the
discipline, character was growing in symmetry and
strength.

On the twenty-fifth anniversary of his marriage
business again compels him to be absent from home,
but a letter, whose closing words reach into the
future, finds its way back to his wife. * * * *
"How then about the golden? Shall we trudge on
together till we reach it here? Amen! if it be His
will. But, really, I'd rather go before the year 1911.
I've seen so many old men linger on, to be a burden
to others and to public enterprises, that I'd prefer to
have the days 'shortened.' How much more de-
sirable it is to fall in one's prime. But it is not best
to bother our heads about that. There is plenty of
good work to do to-day, and we can safely leave that
to-morrow to Him who has led us and blessed us
thus far. Let the prayer of the silver wedding
night be: 'Lord, we two would be together, June
27, 1911, either here, or yonder.' "

2 8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Those uttered thoughts have, in part, been an-
swered. His work is finished. The soul was too
intense for the body. The sensitive, nervous or-
ganism could not longer stand the strain. In the
the spring of '91 there was a break-down. But the
tenderness and strong support of trustees, the kind-
ness of faculty, the love of the College boys, shown
in delicate and sympathetic ways, and the watch-
fulness of friends, seemed to call him back to life.
The trustees, with the command that he should rest
and not return until fully recovered, sent him away.
As summer wore on and strength came, the old
enthusiasm returned. In the fall, against expostu-
lation, he took up his work. College prospects were
bright and he was full of zeal, but it was too soon.
In December he began to suffer with violent pains
in the head, but he kept on with his work, and
nerving himself for the effort, delivered, just before
Christmas, a promised lecture, in Springfield. After
that, though keenly suffering, college matters were
attended to, one chapel lecture delivered and an-
other written. Then the strong will yielded and the
disease triumphed that a few weeks later, on the
eighth of February, 1892, brought to a close his life,
at the age of fifty-four.

Even after he was confined to his bed, he planned
for the College. Finally his physician told him he
would have to stop and rest again, that he must not
think of his work in the College, or of the boys.
"Doctor," replied he, "you might as well ask me to
take out my heart." Through all his sickness he
never complained. His thought was still for others.
When friends sent delicacies to tempt his appetite,
in a way that would cause a choking of the throat to

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 29

those about him, he would request that they be given
to this or that one of the household. There was
something pathetic in his longing to have his family
around him. As never before he seemed to yearn
for affectionate demonstration. Said he: "These
have been happy days, they have been sober days,
but they have been happy days, we have all been to-
gether." "Together?" yes, loving soul, a few
short days, then but faith strains the ear and the
notes she hears bear no tremulo tone, for they are
the echoes of an immortal song from the other
shore, together evermore.

One day, early in the week before he died, there
was a change for the worse. Toward morning, the
following day, he spoke, to his elder son, his last
words concerning the College. As his wife and one
of his daughters entered the room he lovingly
greeted them. "I am afraid," he said, "I am wear-
ing you all out." To the question whether his head
pained him, he answered: "Yes, I'm full of pain, but
full of a sweet content," and then, weary with the
effort of talking, lay quite still. There was not a
sound in the room. Presently his eyes opened. For
a little while he quietly watched wife and son, who,
thinking him asleep, were taking needed rest, then
for perhaps an hour gazed toward the ceiling with a
calm, far-away look on his face, as though thought
were reaching out into the invisible, and the Angel
of Peace were ministering there. Then sleep came.

Afterward, there were frequent periods of con-
sciousness, and he seemed to rally, but it was the
last flicker of the flame before going out.

About noon, on Saturday, there was a sudden
change with rapid failure, and wife and children,

30 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

looking into the faces of those, who while minister-
ing to the body, had been as brothers to the heart,
knew all hope was gone. Long after physicians
thought the end must come he lingered on, with
that tenacity so characteristic of his life. Sabbath
morning came. Church bells rang out upon the air,
and their echoes died away. Evening bells called
to worship, and yet he lingered on even till the
break of day. Then, at last, there was a long breath
an impressive closing of the eyelids, and the
spirit that had so longed for "eternal rest," was with
God.

The early morning light coming in through an
eastern window fell reverently over the still figure
the night shadows had passed away, and the Eternal
Morn had dawned.

7p 7|> Vp 7$ Tfi 7ft

In the south wall of the college chapel there is
imbedded a marble slab, upon which, in plain raised
letters, are the words, " Edward Allen Tanner, D. D.;
Student, Professor, President." These words make
over to Illinois College thirty-three of the fifty-four
years of his life. They speak of a manhood chiseled
fine by mastery of self and devotion to a cause.

For six years Edward Tanner was a student at the
academy and at Illinois College, but he was a
student also to the day of his death. He treasured
opportunity. In the class-room were developed his
habits of pains-taking research. Especially did he
find delight in a finished translation from the clas-
sics. He was a thoughtful reader and few young
men would follow patiently through the volumes
which have been kept from his college days, and

PRIVATE 'AND PUBLIC LIFE. 31

whose pages show the pencilings of appreciation.
Sentiments of high morality met a quick response
from his sensitive soul, and one is not surprised to
read these words of a college class-male's: "I never
knew a boy so pure in heart. During all my asso-
ciations with him in hours of study, recreation and
social intercourse, I never heard him give expres-
sion to a foul thought or utterance to an unclean
word." Free from grossness to a strange degree, so
common is it among young men, his scholarly taste
was choice. Always a hard worker, a double worker
often, he had no time to pile on the fuel, but he
despised soft coal, his books were invariably anthra-
cite; they left no soot and the fire never went out,
although he did not try to have the world see any
flame.

He felt the warmth from live thoughts whether in
poetry, history, essay or philosophy. Biography
was especially dear to him. He sought what was
real in personal life. He loved to linger there. His
own thoughts he did not unfold readily. Students
of his day testify that when he was induced to read
an essay or to take part in a debate he always "had
something to say;" but when he did not feel that he
had that "something," nothing could move his pen
or open his mouth. It was this shrinking from
rhetorical work which cost him first honors in his
class, and he never overcame the diffidence although
there was a constant struggle. He never spoke in
public without a heavy sinking of the heart. The
determination to read theology came after he had
been teaching for several years, but he "didn't think
he should ever preach" He wanted the knowledge
to help him in his class-room, so he studied by him-

32 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

self and received a license in a little church out in
Salem, Oregon, eight years after graduation; and
by his own choice was ordained later not in Jackson-
ville, but at the quiet country church on Joy Prairie.

From such humble aspirations come these ser-
mons and addresses. A few of the many which
President Tanner wrote are here to speak for them-
selves. The writers of this sketch do not feel that
they need to praise or to defend them. All which
will be done is to mention the method of their pre-
paration and the known sincerity which lay beneath
them.

Whatever power President Tanner had as a writer
came from his constant and conscientious prepara-
tion. Words and sentences never lay piled about
him, ready for use. He had what De Quincey wit-
tily calls " a distinguished talent for silence." Often
did he sit in his study chair by the hour seeking a
javelin phrase for thought, even though he never
planned to send it forth but once and then from a
lowly pulpit. Is one surprised to read in a letter
from a young man who heard him often and was
writing of his sermons, years afterward, "somehow
they always stuck."

In the pulpits of the town and at the country
churches, before the marriage altar and beside the
coffin, his figure was familiar. For fourteen years,
while a professor, he also was chaplain of the Cen-
tral Hospital for the Insane, and during the ten
years of his presidency, he spoke in a helpful, stimu-
lating fashion to the students of the college every
Sunday afternoon. Whatever the place, or whatever
the occasion, there was always the same strict prepa-
ration. Perhaps the most touching and thoughtful

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE.

33

funeral address he ever made was uttered as he
stood upon the dirt floor of a workman's cabin, com-
forting three or four simple souls. At the insane
hospital many a thought which he had polished
smooth enough to glide even into the troubled
brain, opened a rift for rays of light to break up the
inner gloom. That was reward abundant. Chapel
lectures were something more than familiar talks.
They were earnest, but they were also finished, and
the addresses prepared for some two hundred stu-
dents needed no revision or addition when he took
them, as he did, right into the largest pulpits of the
land, often to appear again in the " great dailies."
Such work had its reward. It gained recognition
from the churches. Better still, it told in the man.
He not only learned how to hold patiently the dark
lantern of study, but there came to him more and
more the flash lights of thought. The compilers of
this book, as they have read the sermons written all
along the line of these thirty years have been im-
pressed with their steady rise both in crystalline
beauty and in sustained strength. To the younger
reader of only ordinary abilities they bring a lesson
and a quiet inspiration. Nature is truly great out of
such materials to make such men.

The thoroughness of the writer was the thorough-
ness of the man. Even his penmanship gained in
grace; much more his character. He was genuine.
Those who knew him best in the daily common-
places realized that his whole life was in harmony
with what he preached. He never had a hearer
whom he need hesitate to face squarely when utter-
ing the most searching truths of practical Christian-
ity. It was in part this consciousness of moral rec-

34 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

titude which gave him his power in the pulpit
Willing to have his life freely " read of all men," he
could read his own sermons freely. He seldom
spoke without notes, but he always spoke eye to
eye.

The sympathy of his words as well as of his man-
ner was intense. He never uttered platitudes. He
never used a quotation simply because it had a
"literary sound." He loved his books, but he did
not despise the handiwork of men. He would leave
"machine poetry" quickly for the "poetry in
machines." The exegesis of nature was also a con-
stant delight; but especially did he search the inner
experiences now over the cobble-stones of common
pursuits and disappointments, and now upon medita-
tion's pillow, with such aspirations as "ladder" choice
souls to heaven. In his earlier preaching he speaks
of the difficulties encountered as a minister; in his
later preaching he speaks of the difficulties encount-
ered as a man. As to his own religious thought, he
grew more and more firm, but he could always honor
those who differed from him. Said he " I believe in
a religion of points rather than one of pulp;" but
while he stuck to his own views gratefully as to
helpful friends, he did not place them above those
of any other conscientious thinker. He respected
the minds of men, but he had often found that when
he could not enter them from his own, the heart
paths were still open. He always succeeded in get-
ting into touch with those in trouble before he spoke
to them. Some wondered how he gained such a
hold upon the insane. They should have seen him
as he used to sit of an evening upon his porch and
look out through the trees which for that purpose he

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 35

kept .trimmed so high, toward the Asylum two miles
away, while his soul went out to those sorrowing
there. "It is very quiet and yet what unrest," he
would say softly, and then try to frame his words to
carry that quiet of nature and nature's God to the
troubled minds and hearts. In his college talks he was
thoroughly in sympathy with the students. He felt
for them in their spiritual and practical difficulties
alike. He had come that way himself. Said he
with some indignation once, " Let not those whose
conformity to orthodox doctrines never required of
them a day of patient toil, never cost them a night
of feverish anxiety, pass sentence of condemnation
on those to whom it is the conflict of weeks and
months and years to find in Jesus the Divine Savior of
the World." It was his joy to take the young man,
sinking into doubts, and lead him to simplest gospel
truth. "Don't try to steal a march upon fame," he
would tell those who sacrificed the Bible for other
books. "Make politics and social science your great
study and read your Bible just enough for rhetorical
purposes, if you would seek an early notoriety. But
reverse all of this if you are willing, noiselessly,
patiently and surely to develop a character that
shall give you Christ's love for eternity." His
preaching to the students was wholesome, fatherly,
sometimes very plain and always practical. So it
was in every pulpit, and those who heard him often
will understand this utterance of his heart. "I
would seek to fathom the billows that roll over the
souls of men and women here and now. I want to get
as near as I can to the coasts of the land where you
live. My heart is with you, I want to reach you."
Said a student of a few years ago, on leaving a life

36 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

of partial dissipation for Christian manhood: "I
had succeeded in shaking off all other restraints, but
I could never get away from Dr. Tanner's prayers."
His spirit was truly devotional. Yet he seldom led
even in prayer without carefully thinking out its
form. As he strove to get into the hearts of men, so
he sought to reach the very heart of God, and its
throbbings would at times seem to touch the sup-
pliant's very lips. He never "got away from" his
own prayers. In them the preacher lived.

In the class, Professor Tanner was quietly enthusi-
astic. He required the students to work, but he was
willing to work first. He had a genuine fondness
for Latin which he taught in Pacific University,
Oregon, from 1861 to 1865, and at his alma mater
from 1865 to 1882. His knowledge of the lan-
guage was minute and complete, and he had the
gift of imparting it. At Illinois College he was
also the instructor in rhetoric, and by his un-
sparing criticisms and by his own careful example
he rescued many a promising writer from the danger
of a slovenly style. But it was when he entered the
field of mental and moral science that he found
instruction most congenial. Here he conducted the
class-room work, while one whom he loved both as
physician and a friend, Dr. Hiram K. Jones, the
Platonist of the Concord School, delivered weekly
lectures. Teacher and learner alike, President
Tanner found in this relation much of the pleasure
of his last ten years. A student came to him one
day with the complaint that a certain topic had cost
him too much study. "How many hours?" asked
Dr. Tanner. On receiving the reply, he put his
hand on the fellow's shoulder and mildly said: "I

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 37

spent three times as long yesterday upon that lesson

myself."

It was seldom necessary for him to do anything
to maintain order in the recitation room. By the
clearness and force of his unremitting thought, he
kept the students occupied instead; but, while he
thoroughly appreciated the occasional humor of
sober subjects if there was ever any trifling, he
needed to speak but once. He regarded the study of
mind, either human or divine, as a sacred privilege,
and his earnestness was contagious. It was a great
sacrifice to him, to devote his best energies to the
wasting routine of his college executive work, but
it is now a gratification to think that, his duties done,
he is extending his search for truth along these same
lines, with eternity before him, and above him a new
light, and beside him a new associate, the one who
was both the Greatest Physician and the Greatest
Metaphysician.

Had Edward Allen Tanner never been a professor
at Illinois College, he never would have taken its pre-
sidency. There was nothing inviting in the out-
look. A depleted treasury and a small and dis-
heartened constituency! Shrinkage in funds and an
annual deficiency of several thousand dollars, seem-
ingly unavoidable, had reduced the secured endow-
ment to $55,000. Is was a question whether or not
to close the institution and wait for a resurrection
which would probably have never come. Professor
Tanner said, no. He loved the College, and cheer-
fully entered upon the work. There were very few
rich men upon whom the institution had any pos-
sible hold, and they had lost their confidence.
Those who were planning large benevolences looked

38 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

for places of less history perhaps, but of greater
promise. So Dr. Tanner began among men and
women of moderate means to build by their aid sure
foundations for larger things. Even in this effort
he was constantly baffled, but his tact was only
equalled by his pertinacity. He never angered, but
he seldom gave up. Nearly half of his energies this
past decade were given to such work. It was a
painful work to him and to those who understood
him. His sensitive nature recoiled from such mendi-
cacy, especially as in repeated cases his only hold
was a strong personal attachment, and he knew that
many of his friends were doing for his sake what
their judgment opposed.

This work he regarded as now finished with the
completion of the Gymnasium and Memorial Hall,
just a month before his death. The College again
had possession of its entire campus. Two new
buildings stood upon it, and everything was in
good order. The year's attendance was the largest
in its history. The financial basis was sound, al-
though the endowment was yet only $175,000.
More has been given to other institutions in a single
unsolicited donation. Less than a thousand dollars
had come to Illinois College unsought, and no
princely gift from any source. But "Illinois" could
claim a larger list of donors these last ten years
than any other college in the interior, perhaps than
any other in the country, hundreds upon hundreds.
President Tanner felt that "the pocket-book connec-
tion" was good, and he was shrewd enough to see in
this fact the hope for larger things. And the larger
things were on their way, not only in faith, but
also in promise.

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 39

But the educator did not place an institution of
.earning behind the dollar mark, while recognizing
the importance of sound business principles. He
was careful to promote local pride and interest, see-
ing in Central Illinois a grand college field. He
courted the common schools and the high schools.
.He fostered the enthusiasm of alumni and past-
students by rousing anniversary occasions upon the
"Hill." Genuine literary excellence was sought in
the curriculum; and with the full knowledge that it
would work a temporary disadvantage, the course
of study was set side by side with the highest in the
land.

A Congregationalist himself, President Tanner
struggled simply for a Christian college. He knew
that when Illinois College was falling, it was
saved as much by other churches as by his own,
both in patronage and benevolence. He cheerfully
recognized the reason for this general dependence;
he told himself that Central Illinois was not the
Congregational stronghold of the region, and that
the institution was not then in a position to draw
much help from distant cities; but in simple fairness,
lie insisted that no fences be erected. This brought
some opposition from his own denomination, but it
was silent and only in a few cases has it proved per-
sistent. Illinois College goes on its way of Chris-
tian harmony with a helpful, if not a noisy, support
in each of all the churches, and with the commenda-
tion of their liberal organs and of their liberal men.

Had it not been for his relation with the board of
trust, the president would have often faltered.
Their attitude toward him was an uninterrupted
pleasure. With rare tenderness, they were always

40 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

urging him to do less and to take more. A com-
plete mutual confidence existed, and he felt that he
had not only the strongest personal friends, but also
the wisest advisers in the field of education. There
was no littleness in his dealings with the faculty.
He sought men who, in part at least, would conse-
crate themselves as he had done to Illinois College;
and it seemed very fitting that the one who had
come from the board of trust at his request to aid
him in his work, and who had been all those years
the close comrade of his disinterested loyalty,
should as acting president round out for him the
duties of the unfinished year.

What is it that leads man to abandon self; to turn
away from easier and larger opportunities, and to
cling to a task in which he sees little of present
glory for himself; to be willing that others should
overshadow him, while he stoops to distasteful work
which he sees must be done before the superstruct-
ure of a great and lasting institution can be raised?
Hear again these inaugural words, and catch the
answer:

" And, now, while faith be unwavering, sight fails
as yet to bring into clear outline the college of the
future, the view dissolves, the institution fades out
for the moment, and, as you have sometimes seen
objects on an eminence magnified and transfigured
in the sunset, two men* appear upon yonder hill two
men who have in great measure shaped the col-
lege of the past; one whose cheeks are still flushed
with the ' Conflict of Ages,' and one who carries in
his left hand the golden wand of 'Economics,'

* Dr. Edward Beecherand Dr. Julian M. Sturtevant, first and
second presidents of Illinois College.

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 41

while his right hand grips the 'Keys of Sect,'
which, at near four-score, he delights to hurl into
the face of St. Peter himself two men, whose intel-
lectual shadows falling this way cover the speaker,
and then lengthen on and on, till he cannot discern
so much as his own shadow. But he can look to-
ward the sunrise, toward the twentieth century, and
then back toward your sympathetic faces, and then
up to Thy shining face, O Master divine. Where-
upon inspirations come, as carrier birds, flying over
the still unopened gates of the morning, and the
message which they bear beneath their wings reads,
' Make ready, during these intervening years, a fit-
ting college celebration for the two thousandth year
of our Lord.' "

Willing to stand beneath the shadow of predeces-
sors! Eager to stand beneath the shadow of succes-
sors! Altruistic purpose of an unselfish man! Far-
sighted vision of a Christ-like ministry! "There is
that scattereth and yet increaseth," is the theme of a
sermon recorded here. "There is that scattereth
and yet increaseth," is the theme of a life recorded
THERE. And after its years of patient toil, God him-
self said, through the toiler's own enfeebled lips,
and as a benediction to the departing soul, " It is a
great gratification to feel that one has been allowed
to accomplish even a little for the future for some-
one else."

He who labors thus for a Christian institution,
humble though it be, labors for all time. He who
sets beneficent forces at work in human character
labors for eternity. President Tanner did both.
A dignified college officer, a strict disciplinarian, he
was as tender as a father unto all. Many a one in

42 . SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

danger of moral destruction he led back to what he
effectively told him he himself had found to be the
wiser and the better way. His room at the college
and his study at the home are sacred in many hearts.
Scattered through these lands are other men whom
he has made more manly and other such have gone
before him to to the Imperial Country. While tak-
ing delight in students' pleasures and pride in their
achievements, he sought to develop broad and gen-
uine Christian qualities. Such he saw to be the
mission of the Western College, that of the willow
rather than of the oak, bending itself to special
needs, with the lowly uplift of personal help, if not
the sweep of huge buildings and endowments.

He longed to prepare his younger brethren for
the struggle of life, to set before them real worth
and usefulness to men in place of shadowy ambitions.
He talked to them at times about his own life and
disappointments wanted them to learn at the out-
set just as he had learned, through struggle with self,
to say "Thy will be done;" felt the ties of earnest
brotherhood, the relation growing closer and more
helpful up to the very end. "I hope I'll be a little
stronger to-morrow," said he one early morning, a week
before his death. " I want to talk over with you
some plans for helping those especially who are work-
ing their own way through college." And on the fol-
lowing Sabbath, long after his last thought had been
made known, and with only a few night hours be-
tween him and the Unbroken Day, the sound of a
whisper was heard, but even a wife's eager ear could
catch only three feeble words: "College boys
bell"

Was he thinking of the morrow's message of

PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE. 43

>,

that college bell? Was he already listening to its
measured ringing as it later called the students
to recitation room and house of God, there to re-
ceive the last, silent teaching of one who had
"worked his own way" through life? And with his
spirit out upon that ocean which "rolls round all the
world," goes this receding tide of an untold yearning
such as had borne him on to self-sacrifice from the
time he chose his working place on College Hill till
the time he entered his resting place at Diamond
Grove.

An old college tower in the distance; a grave at
our feet! Between them a whole life of devotion!

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE.

MAY 28, 1882.

" I sat down under his shadow, with great delight." S olo-
mon's Song ii : 3.

Shadows of blessing gladden the world.

Imponderable agencies are among the mightiest
forces that govern in nature and life. Seas and
mountains may charge and discharge the clouds?
rilling plains with plenty, and making rivers for
the transportation of wheat and corn; but all along
from Homer to Wordsworth, they have likewise been
giving wings to the imagination and revelations to
the soul. New York awakes to her 1 responsibility*
realizing at length, that Niagara has another mission
to the East, than the driving of saws and spindles
and looms; while California proclaims in the valley of
the Yosemite, that greed, with grimy hands, shall
not smut the bridal veil of the West. Man must
have bread, but, in the higher ranges of his being, he
can not live on bread alone. Often an emanation
seems more than the bodily substance; the residuum
may be gross, the volatile essence ethereal.

Beneath the open firmament, visible forms are
shapes of speechless matter; but they diffuse an in-
tangible something, under which we sit down with
great delight, getting a hint of the old bard's mean-
ing when he sang "I will abide under the shadow of
the Almighty."

With this passing glance at the realm where God
alone is Creator, and where the air is full of sugges-

46 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

tions of benevolence, we turn to human organiza-
tions, and find there the same general law of
influence, producing, however, now one result and
now another, according as good or evil is predom-
inant in motive. Here shadows of bane often sad-
den the world. The most obtrusive fact in society
is the combination of labor and capital. Marvellous
effects greet the eye. Judging the present by the
past, comparing material prosperity with material
prosperity, we are ready to declare, that the millen-
nium can not be far away. But, creeping alongside,
conies that shadow of dread, the despair of our
social science, issuing from the antagonism of the
factors, that now ill-concealed antipathy, now des-
perate struggle, between money and muscle, brain
and brawn.

Next transfer the idea from the Cosmos of God
and the Babel of the common-work-a-day world,
to the quiet republic of letters. There, likewise, the
same principle is all-pervasive.

There are two methods of computing the worth of
an institution of learning. The first employs only
the rudiments of arithmetic. A knowledge of
simple addition even, will suffice. This method
merely inquires how many acres of land, what
buildings, what apparatus, how large a library, how
much endowment, what the number in the faculty, and
what the size of the classes. Given these data, and
it will in a few moments sum up the figures and
tell you the comparative value of an Oxford, or a
Heidelberg. There is no other of these items which
weighs so much with the ordinary citizen as the
number of students. On that chiefly he founds his
opinion. But suppose that we apply this standard

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. ' 47

to the continental universities, and mark the result.
According to statistics, the students in the universi-
ties of Russia outnumber those in the universities of
Belgium, Holland and Switzerland combined. Those
in the universities of Spain outnumber those in the
universities of England and Scotland. Those in the
universities of Italy outnumber those in the univer-
sities of Germany.

But where are the institutions that have shaped
the higher intellectual and moral life of mankind?
Where are the institutions, under the shadow of
which the world has sat with great delight, for four,
and six, and eight hundred years?

No one would for a moment think of turning to
Russia, or Spain, or Italy, for an answer. Only in
countries where free though^and free speech are en-
couraged, from generation to o generation, can the
genius of learning assert its most beneficent power.
Wherever spiritual despotism reigns, filling chairs of
instruction, and regulating curricula, the barren
speculations of the schoolmen will be substituted
for the vital questions of the day, and, though great
numbers may be assembled for study, enthusiastic
devotion unto truth, for her own dear sake, will be
unknown, and youthful energy and zeal will be per-
verted, to the support of hoary forms of superstition.

Let such be the ruling spirit, and, no matter what
the acquisition, the prevailing influence must be
baleful, calculated to hinder, rather than to promote
the noblest civilization. Even in the other coun-
tries mentioned, the shadows cast have not always
been shadows of blessing. When in the middle
ages, the universities there expelled Jesus Christ,
they became a curse to mankind. Mind and soul

4.8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

were belittled and degraded. The dwarfing of. intel-
lect and the corruption of morals kept even pace
down the centuries. There was no dawning of a
better era, till More and Erasmus and Colet entered
Oxford, Greek Testament in hand, proclaiming
within those courts the "Christianity of Jesus and his
Apostles," elevating again to its old place above in-
structor's desk, in recitation room and lecture room,
the form of the crucified, and writing afresh upon
the very walls, "Hear ye Him." And Cambridge
responded to Oxford. And then Reuchlin aroused
Heidelberg with the same message, making both
Greek and Hebrew testify once more of Jesus, at
that ancient seat of learning. And Luther heard in
the cell at Erfurt. And Zwingli heard upon the
mountains of Switzerland. And the Reformation
was accomplished. *

But institutions, like individuals, have a bent to-
ward evil and the universities of Germany and of
England have not escaped this tendency in the igth
century. Having once swung from superstition to
faith, their next rebound was respectively toward
rationalism and agnosticism. The former is correct-
ing itself, the latter still struggles toward ascend-
ency. That spirit of destructive criticism which
brooded over Germany twenty-five years ago, pro-
nouncing its emphatic nay, nay, alike upon the
myths of paganism and the miracles of the gospels,
yields little by little, and learns to utter its yea, yea,
concerning the wonders of the New Testament.

Thoughtful men are anxiously watching, to see
whether the English universities will break away
from the spell which is cast over them, by the union
of a materialistic philosophy with materialistic

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. 49

science, knowing that, till that alliance is dissolved,
the silent influence of Cambridge and Oxford must
be anti-Christian.

Turning to our own system of higher education,
we find the intuitional philosophy in conflict with
materialistic science, the former as yet superior, but
the latter making desperate fight, and seeking to
ally with itself the state universities against the dis-
tinctively Christian colleges.

Thus far in American history, the latter have been
beneficent forces. Besides the mental training
given, without making creed or dogma prominent,
though noiseless and unobtrusive, they have stood
among the mightiest moral agencies in the nation.
There is no prospect that there will be any general
revolution in the outer form of the system. The
relative proportions of the curriculum are not to be
greatly altered. History and local conditions will
introduce new departments. Illinois may need
some educational features not required in Massa-
chusetts. Improvement and enlargement will
accompany increased resources. Catalogues will
show more distinguished men in the faculties and
longer class lists. Teachers will teach the same
things, but more of them, and with more thorough-
ness, and students. will graduate with higher attain-
ments. Yet, when we turn to the indirect influence
of our colleges in the future, prophecy loses some-
what of its confidence, for there is stealing in upon
all these institutions an insidious spirit of secularism,
peculiarly American. The oldest and strongest suf-
fer most, but the weakest do not escape. What
shall the shadow be? This is the impending ques-
tion: Shall the geni^ts of liberal learning henceforth

50 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

prove intensely secular, or profoundly religious? But,
some one exclaims, would you have the college as-
sume the functions of the theological seminary? By
no means. The offices of the two are distinct. Keep
them separate. Still confine the study of dogma
and formulated creeds to the schools of divinity.
In college work the age of Augustine would be a
wretched substitute for the age of Augustus. The
change might seem to smack more of piety, but it
would cause grievous loss in the direction of schol-
arly culture. The secret of good, or evil, is hidden
in the undertone which pervades the institution,
that mysterious something which speaks day after
day through x and y, and Alpha and Omega, and
classic story and chemical formula, and Barbara and
Celarent. Let it never be forgotten, that these in-
stitutions stand as one great hope not simply of
civilization, but of Christian civilization; and that
they can realize that hope, only as they recognize
the mastership of Jesus. The richest university,
that gathers the costliest cabinets, and loads the
shelves of its libraries with treasures of thought, and
calls to its chairs of instruction the most renowned
scientists, philologists, and metaphysicians, and
draws to itself young men by hundreds and tens of
hundreds, and yet does not exalt high above all
Him who alone hath the words of everlasting life,
out of those very things, in themselves excellent, is
casting an ever lengthening, ever darkening shadow
of evil.

And the poorest .college that cannot buy choice
collections of specimens, that is not able to add
every new volume to its book list, that has to con-
tent itself with professors unknown to fame and stu-

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. 51

dents a few score in number, and yet beholds in its
teachers and under-graduates an earnest seeking
after what is most valuable in thought, most manly
in character, most loyal to the name of Him whose
lordship is over all realms of matter, all realms of
mind, all realms of spirit Christ's College throws
a lesser shadow, but one of blessed refreshment,
under which individuals and communities sit down
with great delight.

Longfellow makes the very shadow of Evangeline
the ever attendant witness of her beauty and her
moral power. This college ideal we love, and here
in the Acadian calm of the on-coming Sabbath
evening, like Gabriel in the story, we look up from
beneath the trees, and wait and watch for the gleam
of a lamp and a shadow.

And now, while, though faith be unwavering,
sight fails as yet to bring into clear outline the col-
lege of the future, the view dissolves, the institution
fades out for the moment, and, as you have some-
times seen objects on an eminence magnified and
transfigured in the sunset, two men appear upon
yonder hill two men who have in great measure
shaped the college of the past; one whose cheeks
are still flushed with the "Conflict of Ages," and' one
who carries in his left hand the golden wand of
"Economics," while his right hand grips the "Keys
of Sect," which, at near four-score, he delights to
hurl into the face of St. Peter himself two men,
whose intellectual shadows falling this way cover
the speaker, and then lengthen on and on till he
cannot discern so much as his own shadow. But he
can look toward the sunrise, toward the twentieth
century, and then back toward your sympathetic

52 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

faces, and then up to thy shining face, O Master
divine. Whereupon inspirations come, as carrier
birds, flying over the still unopened gates of the
morning, and the message which they bear beneath
their wings reads, "Make ready, during these inter-
vening years, a fitting college celebration for the
Two Thousandth Year of our Lord." Thus courage
is gained to take this precious trust from predeces-
sors, far superior as metaphysicians and logicians.
Very gracious is the benediction of him who laid
aside the cares of the presidency the other year, but
who with mental vigor unabated, still fills a place
which few others could fill so well. May the dream
of his youth be more and more the vision of his old
age. Most acceptable also is the cordiality of one
who has so ably borne of late the burdens of an
acting presidency, an exceedingly vexatious posi-
tion.

The unanimity of faculty and board of trustees
calls for abundant gratitude. The general sympathy
and co-operation of graduates and under-graduates,
our own boys, are as exhilerating as the wine of life.
Jacksonville adopted an orphan some thirty years
ago. He had only a few dollars and only very mod-
erate abilties. But his foster-mother has overlooked
his weaknesses, cheered him in his discouragements
and rewarded his poor efforts a thousand fold be-
yond their deserts. To him she is the dearest town
in this wide world, and what he longs to see, expects
to see, is the college on the hill shining more and
more as the crown of Jacksonville's rejoicing. The
circle enlarges, incentives multiply. Born in this
county, so rich in agricultural resources, the son of
a farmer, he is eager that the college may do some-

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. 53

thing more to dignify and ennoble home life in the
country and aid in checking this feverish rush to
the great centers of population, which is an evil of
the times and a source of danger to the common-
wealth. Illinois College for Illinois, Illinois College
for the Republic of Letters, Illinois College for the
Kingdom of the Christ.

At this season of the year when hundreds and
thousands of the choice youth of the nation are
graduating into a new world of aspiration and en-
deavor, all these institutions themselves seem sum-
moned to examination. Presently will come from
the press the usual demand that they shall give an
account of their work. The questioning may vary
in form, but the general purport will be, What have
you done to train and equip these boys, that they
may henceforth do battle like men, win the world's
prizes and wear its laurels? The old sneers may
be expected. From certain quarters, once in a
twelve-month, we are treated to a Jeremiade over
the helplessness of the average graduate. What
will become of him, when he has worn out the fine
clothes which fond parents furnished on commence-
ment day, as they do a daughter's bridal dress?
What though the youth has learned to court the
sacred nine on Helicon; the muses cannot bear the
smell of machine oil; but he must somehow get
down from Bceotia to business and learn to grease
those cogs and cranks that will grind him out his
daily bread.

There do go forth from the halls of learning, now
and then, those who prove conspicuous examples of
threadbare and hungry respectability; but, usually,
they would have been just as threadbare and hungry

54 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

had they stuck to the three R's and made ugly faces
at the nine muses. The only difference is, that the
imbecility of a college, man, like the wickedness of a
minister's son, becomes notorious. An institution
ought not to be expected to furnish both brains and
tuition, as William Pitt did for poor George Third.

We shall hear also disparaging remarks on the
other extreme. Comparisons will be drawn in favor
of self-made men. Illustrations will be multiplied
to prove that the high places of life are usually held
by those who have none to thank but themselves for
their elevation. But, to learn the idleness of such
talk, one has only to remember the relative number
of the educated and the uneducated, and then turn
to the annals of science, philosophy, medicine, law,
divinity and politics, to see how vast is the advant-
age of disciplined over undisciplined mind.

Study the influence of the American college
over the American congress. Recall the starred and
starry names of house and senate and cabinet and
diplomacy. What occasion is there to blush when
a college man and a college president steps into the
place once held by Old Hickory and the Rail-split-
ter? The temptation is great to follow the line of
thought suggested by those who scorn the higher
learning and to show how untenable is the ground
which they occupy, even if no other tests are applied
than those of common worldly utility and prefer-
ment. There may be some .present whom such an
argument only would influence. There may be
others who think that at least the safer form of dis-
cussion. They do not quite dare to put the question
on the higher spiritual level. They feel somewhat
as Miles Standish did when he walked round Plym-

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. 55

outh Rock and exclaimed: "Short allowance of
victuals and plenty of nothing but Gospel!" Yet,
when you measure a Plymouth Rock, learn to
measure it, not as a table, but as a pulpit.

So in your estimate of the college do not rest satis-
fied with ascertaining its size as a cog-wheel in the
complicated machine of American politics. Do not
confine your view of its worth to the subtlety and
acumen which it will impart to the future student of
law. Do not simply ask whether the training will
qualify your son to investigate more successfully the
mysteries of medical science in short, go farther
than to inquire whether these long years of
study will develop an ingenious youth into a
merely prosperous man of the world. Make
the calculation rather from the shadow which the
institution casts upon the character of your boy.
Will he come out from that shadow by and by a
manikin, or a man? As is the college so must be
the graduate. A law of mental and moral heredity
binds the alma mater and the alumnus together.
Here is the crucial test by which a literary institu-
tion ought to stand or to fall.

I feel profoundly the importance of increasing
our endowment fund, of adding to our faculty for
some time to come every year, at least one professor,
w.ho shall command universal respect as a master
mind in his own department, and of thus doubling
very speedily our present number of students. But I
am far more anxious that the money in the treasury,
like the old Jewish shekel, may bear the head of no
human Caesar, but simply Aaron's almond rod that
budded and a pot of the manna which came down
from heaven; that a new enthusiasm spirit of God

56 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

within the soul such is the meaning of the old
Greek word may take possession of every in-
structor, so that when these classes leave us, year by
year, we may sing, as does the laureate concerning
Arthur's knights:

"Well, good ye are, and bad, and like to coins,
Some true, some light, but every one of you
Stamped with the image of the king."

A college is a Christian Cornelia; her sons are
her jewels; their brilliancy is her pride; but her
mother love is diviner than her pride, and, as she
sends her boys out into life, her most earnest in-
quiry concerns the quality of their manliness. What
stations of profit, honor and power they are to fill,
may be the first question; yet that quickly yields
precedence to another what silent, resistless forces
shall emanate from character, to become a factor in
the destiny of a lesser or a larger world; which
shall be cast, shadows of bane or shadows of bless-
ing?

This affectionate solicitude deserves a grateful
return. In Trevelyan's Life of Macaulay may be
found these words concerning the historian's love
for his college: "Of his places of sojourn during his
joyous and shining pilgrimage through the world,
Trinity, and Trinity alone, had any share with his
home in Macaulay's affection and loyalty. That
was the spot where, in his failing years, he especially
loved to renew the feelings of the past, and some
there are who can never revisit it without the fancy
that there, if anywhere, his dear shade must linger."

Let the larger be the type of the smaller this day.

My Younger Brethren: Illinois College, with fond

INAUGURAL BACCALAUREATE. 57

solicitude, forecasts your future as you go out into
the world. Both success and failure are written on
the far-away horizon of possibility, encircling you
all. Many fields of conflict lie between. There may
be a few quick and brilliant victories. Yet, even in
those danger lurks. Conceit and a treacherous sense
of security take possession of the soul, so that the at-
first beautiful blush of triumph turns by and by into
the ugly redness and blackness of mortification.
There will come, also, defeats not a few. Shall they
be Bunker Hills orWaterloos? Bunker Hill means re-
newed fight, monumental granite, inspiration. Water-
loo means exile, St. Helena, despair. Let not the
approaching contact . with the real mar the ideal.
Perfect your ideal and work toward it reverently.
Catering to a lower taste degrades whatever is done.
Said Mendelssohn : "When I have written a piece of
music, just as it came from my heart, then I have
done my duty toward it."

American youth have been recently hearing the
voice and reading the verse of the apostle of yEsthet-
icism. Oscar Wilde, while exalting this doctrine of
the shadow in art, with strange inconsistency decries
it in literature and seeks to remove the latter from
the domain of morals. He and his disciples might
well give heed to the famous composer, who made a
solemn vow that he would never set immorality to
music; might well confess their folly to the old Eng-
lish bard who declared that " He who would write
heroic poems must make his whole life a heroic poem."'
The writing of a heroic poem might be for you a.
vain endeavor; but the living of a heroic poem should,
be the sacred resolution of the hour. Did you never
read how the Peruvians used to kiss the air as art a,ct;

58 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

of worship, that thus, at least their love might reach
the gods? Every soul has its atmosphere, which it
may fill with silent benediction for other souls, and
thus win the approbation of Him who now seeth in
secret to reward openly by-and-by. Let us subscribe
to this creed together to-day. I think that we shall
henceforth take a somewhat peculiar interest in one
another. Just twenty-five years ago this afternoon,
in the old brick church on this very site, with my
classmates, I was standing where you stand and lis-
tening to the farewell words of the venerable ex-
president, whom you and I delight to honor. Twenty-
five years! Silver chord, always musical with the
memories pf youth! Touch it, and the intervening
quarter of a century vanishes : I am a boy again
with you, one instant shrinking, alarmed; the next
eager, expectant, looking out into the untried; then,
as the sound dies away, recollection blends with
reality, and I am upon the border of another untried.
Heart answers to heart: we see eye to eye. Let us
review, as our last lesson together, that page in his-
tory which we have read and loved from childhood,
the page which tells how Columbus, intent upon find-
ing a better way to an old province, for the sake of
his country and his Christ, found instead a new
world.

Whatsoever, with purpose noble and steadfast, puts
keel into the unknown, will be guided of God to
things which outsphere all his dreams.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS,

BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1883.

"Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong
came forth sweetness." Judges xiv. 14.

The riddle which vexed the Philistines three days,
and then left them in despair, has perplexed the
world thirty centuries, and still finds mankind only
partially solving its meaning. The lion did not bring
food to Samson, as the ravens did to Elijah. There
had to be a fight first. Not till the carcass of the
slain was bleached and whitened, did the victor find
in it the honey-comb. History has been repeating
the story ever since. Kings have done little for
their subjects voluntarily. The vassal has had to
throttle his master, to get increase of privilege.
Not till aristocracy has felt the many-handed grip
of democracy, have the Magna Chartas of liberty,
equality and fraternity been granted. Thus far, the
mighty of this world have not much more reason to
take credit to themselves for the refreshment of the
wayfaring multitude, than had the king of beasts for
ministering to the wants of the hungry Samson, on
the road to Timnath. The eater has been bent
upon getting, instead of giving, the meat. Still he
has been obliged, though sorely against his will, to
yield more and more for the general good.

I was especially impressed with this idea in read-
ing Knight's Popular History of England. The
work does not, like many histories, concern itself
chiefly with kings and queens and lords. It sympa-

60 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

thizes especially with the Commons and the com-
mon people, and dwells with interest upon the con-
flicts between serf and master, the weaker baron
and the stronger, feudalism and monarchy, parlia-
ment and crown. You watch the slow and painful
evolution of the doctrine of the rights of man as
man, which has been going on in Britain since the
dawn of the Christian era. The Englishman, like
the American, discards "the monstrous creed of mil-
lions made for one," and "looks at the millions with
another faith, the faith of our times." A Canute
may plant his chair on the shore, and bid the waters
stand back, but there is a mightier power, slowly
lifting the tide, and the king is forced to obey the
hoarse voice of the sea. At length he exclaims:
"I beg and command those to whom I have en-
trusted the government, as they wish to preserve my
good-will, and save their own souls, to do no injus-
tice, either to poor or rich. Let those who are
noble and those who are not, equally obtain their
rights according to the laws, from which no devia-
tion shall be allowed, either from fear of me, or
through favor to the powerful, or for the purpose of
supplying my treasury. I want no money raised by
injustice."

Such progress did equity make in a thousand
years. Then, generation after generation, deepens
and darkens the struggle between the clownish
Saxon and the courtly Norman, till concession fol-
lows concession, and the old feud dies out, and in
the blending of the two races, England becomes a
united nation. For centuries the conflict continues
between this united people and its kings. Reluct-
antly the latter grant right after right, privilege

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 6 1

after privilege, on from the days of Runnymede and
treacherous King John. But, gradually, a better
spirit pervades the body politic. The eater is less
and less the destroyer. The strength which he gives
is imparted more graciously. And finally a queen
Victoria speaks thus from the throne: "I look to
the protection of Almighty God for favor in our
continued progress; and I trust you will assist me
in upholding the fabric of the constitution, founded
as it is upon the principles of freedom and justice."

This brief outline represents what has been the
general course of events, under every form of gov-
ernment. At the outset the strong have invariably
tyrannized over the weak, and the condition of the
latter has been ameliorated, only after desperate and
long-continued antagonism between the governing
and the governed classes. But, gradually, another
doctrine has been taking possession of the world
the doctrine of the solidarity of human interests, the
doctrine that the strong exist for the sake of the
weak, as well as the weak for the sake of the strong.
Meat has come less and less from the slain eater,
and more and more through voluntary surrender by
the living eater, who has learned the joy of sharing
his portion with the less fortunate. The idea is con-
stantly spreading, that the government exists for
the sake of the people, and not the people for the
sake of the government.

The call for rebellions and revolutions diminishes
as the centuries glide by. Peace, rather than war, '
is the hope of the reformer. The Hartmans and,
Guiteaus seem more infamous than the Guy Faw-
keses of the past. If the world ever needed such
creatures as ministers of progress, that day has cer-

62 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

tainly gone by. This is true, under the monarchy
of England, the autocracy of Russia, the imperialism
of Germany, and the republicanism of France and
America. Amid conflicting interests we are called
upon to check recklessness, and cultivate temper-
ance and self-restraint, when reforms do not keep
even pace with our eagerness for the immediate
breaking of the millennial dawn. There should be
great content, when we contrast the ancient and the
modern attitude of the leading governments of the
world.

The present English House of Lords is studying
the question of the surrender of its vested privileges
with a calmness and an unselfishness hitherto un-
known in the history of Britain. The example is
typical of the sentiment which is filtering into all
forms of civil government. The eater must not only
consume, but also contribute freely to the multi-
tudes. Henry VII permitted John Cabot and sons
to sail at their own charges in quest of undiscovered
countries, and then paid them only $75 for the dis-
covery of Newfoundland. What modern ruler would
dare to exhibit such shameless greed, such disregard
of a subject's claims to gratitude?

In the next place, this is true not only of govern-
ments as units, but also of individuals conspicuous
in administration. Gladstone, in great weariness,
exclaimed one day, " I'm leading a dog's life."
" Yes," replied Lord Houghton, " the life of a St.
Bernard, which is spent in saving the lives of
others."

How such an example relieves the opprobrium
resting upon politics. We look upon those who de-
vote themselves to political life as giving body and

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 63

soul to an unprincipled, cut-throat fight for place and
power. The judgment is none too severe in a major-
ity of cases. The demagogues who are seen oftenest
and who talk loudest, when elections are impending,
deserve their reputations as temporizing tricksters.
But their notoriety causes us to overlook that noble
minority, who may be found in legislature and con-
gress, laboring conscientiously for the highest good
of the state and the nation. While Mr. Shallow
Splurge is noisily advocating some plausible scheme
which shall line his own pocket and enrich some op-
pressive monopoly, while he is drawing the notice of
the press and filling the public eye and thought,
there is his colleague, busied in the committee room,
quietly, but painfully, mapping out and perfecting
some great scheme of general beneficence. As
Americans we are too much given to judging every-
thing from the floor of the house. We let ourselves
be carried away by declamation; we are bewitched by
notoriety, rather than captivated by unobtrusive ex-
cellence; we have not the patience to go behind the
scenes and ascertain who, in genuine patriotism, are
carefully and comprehensively studying the situa-
tion, and maturing plans which look beyond petty
personal and party triumphs, to national peace and
prosperity. There is an increasing number of such
men, who are doing no little to redeem politics from
reproach. The quality of legislation is improving
with each generation, though we find it hard to real-
ize the fact. Such is the virulence of party spirit
that an every day newspaper parade is made of the
iniquity of republicanism and democracy, till we are
ready to despair of the nation in the hands of either.
We class the two as Sodom and Gomorrah; declare,

64 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

in pessimistic mood, that there are no good men left

in either, and that fire and brimstone are the only
remedy.

The case is not so bad. If you unearth the secret
history of our first century, you find worse rottenness,
when you bear in mind the feebler temptations, and
you detect in the noblest spirits an obtuseness in the
moral perceptions which you will not discover in
many who now shape the affairs of the nation. Con-
science means more, the word, ought, weighs more at
Washington than conscience meant and the word
ought weighed a hundred years ago. Interests are
more complicated, economical questions have as-
sumed greater magnitude, inequalities in wealth have
multiplied, social problems grow more perplexing,
but let us not lose faith in the genius of the republic.

Our hope is not in revolution and temporary an-
archy. Let us not think to slay the lion, in the be-
lief that strength will be found in the carcass by and
by. No : our strength is in the living lion. Good
men and true of both parties, in the high places of
power, are consecrating themselves to the clearing
up of these riddles, in such a way as to secure the
greatest possible happiness to every citizen.

Advance, now, to the second member of the text:
" Out of the strong came forth sweetness."

Turn from meat to sweetness, as it were from
repast to dessert.

There is and is to be an ever increasing gracious-
ness in the demeanor of the strong in the presence
of weakness and suffering. This is one of the bright-
est characteristics of the century. The sword of
Charlemagne was named "Gaudiosa." The word
means "full of joy." The name indicated the great

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 65

king's delight in conquest. Though he was one of
the chief agents appointed of God, in the early ages,
for the removal of anarchy and the spread of civili-
zation, there was no tenderness in his methods, but
only a fierce satisfaction. in triumphing over his foes.

Contrast with his haughty grandeur, his pride in
the success of his plans for the pacification of the
world, with no care for the cost in human misery, the
attitude of a Lincoln on the field of Gettysburg; his
anguish over the terrible price paid for the vindica-
tion of righteousness. Hear his testimony to its
transforming power. "When Heft home to take the
chair of state, I was not a Christian. When my son
died, I was not a Christian. But, when I went to
Gettysburg, and looked upon the graves of our dead
heroes, who had fallen in defence of their country, I
then and there consecrated myself to Christ." "Out
of the strong came forth s^veet?tess." The first half
of the text is Charlemagne's, the second is Lincoln's.
The heart, as well as the head, begins to be swayed
by love.

Recall, also, the tender messages that come across
the sea, those weary months, from Queen Victoria to
Mrs. Garfield. You find nothing like them in the
histories of the olden time. The pomp and circum-
stance of court and capital are swept away, and the
widow of England and the widow of the republic
sit down, side by side, as sisters in sorrow. Woman-
hood is glorified by sympathy in the world's high
places. But this spirit, which brings "sweetness"
into life, does not confine itself to caste and class.
It disdains all those artificial barriers which are sup-
posed to mark gradations in society. I read one
day, during Garfield's prostration, that Dr. Agnew,

66 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

after a short visit to Washington, had returned to
Philadelphia, on the plea of necessity. And what
was the necessity? There were in the city hospital,
at his own home, two poor men, who, for weeks, had
been his patients. Said he: "The President does
not need me. Skillful surgeons are sitting by his
bedside night and day; but those two crippled me-
chanics have no one but me to dress their wounds.
Duty calls me there." " Out of the strong came
forth sweetness." The Good Samaritan is not a
mere creature pf the imagination. He is seen stoop-
ing by the wayside, to pour in the oil and the wine.
This disposition is not confined to any rank or pro-
fession. It is sometimes argued that out boasted
culture tends to hardness of heart, and deadens all
interest in the common toils and troubles of the mul-
titude. This is so in some cases. It can not be de-
nied that Matthew Arnold, the high priest of culture,
does cherish a natural repugnance to ordinary peo-
ple, that he does treat them as boors, and that he is
courteous only to his peers.

It can not be denied that those who live in books,
those who, from their employment, are removed from
constant contact with the multitude, must be on their
guard against a clannish spirit. It is no less true
that the majority of those who are said to belong to
the literary guild, do realize the danger, and guard
against the temptation. The educated man to-day
is trying to get nearer to the ignorant man than ever
he was before. The brain is not robbing the heart
of its blood. In proof of the statement, listen to
such words as these, dropping from the lips of one
who has gained a world's applause:

"Without this fellow feeling, how are we to get

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 6j

enough patience and charity toward our stumbling,
falling companions in the long and changeful
journey? And there is but one way in which a
strong, determined soul can learn it, by getting his
heart-strings bound round the weak and erring, so
that he must share, not only the outward conse-
quence of their error, but their inward suffering."
"They that are strong ought to bear the infirmities
of the weak. There's a text that wants no candle
to show it; it shines by its own light. It's plain
enough you get into the wrong road in this life,
if you run after this and that, only for the sake of
making things easy and pleasant to yourself. If
you've got a man's heart and soul in you, you can't
be easy a making your own bed and leaving the rest
to lie on the stones. I'll never slip my neck out of
the yoke and leave the load to be drawn by the
weak." "All the anguish of the children of men,
which sometimes wraps me round like sudden dark-
ness, I can bear with a willing pain, as if I were
sharing the Redeemer's cross. For I feel it, I feel
it, infinite love is suffering too; it yearns; it mourns;
and that is a blind self-seeking which wants to be
freed from the sorrow wherewith the whole creation
groaneth and travaileth." That is a sweeter "sweet-
ness" and a mellower "light" than Matthew Arnold
dreams of and talks of. That is the spirit which is
pervading modern literature more and more. It
would encircle .with blessed sympathy all that suffer;
it would fill with hope and exhiliration every dis-
couraged soul that longs to rise to higher life and
achievement.

In the hall of Ticknor, the great publisher, there
used to hang a picture, representing a young artist

68 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

asleep, worn out with work and disappointment,
while a hand from the clouds was pouring oil into
the expiring lamp. It fitly typified the character of
the noble author, his lifelong habit of encouraging
any downcast youth, who was tempted to abandon
a beautiful ideal for a sordid real. It represents
also a disposition which is prevailing throughout the
world of mind.

The human race, which used to be swayed chiefly
by the explosive is yielding to the dominion of the
effusive. Good things still come down from above.
Sufficient illustrations have been given of the spread
of a gentle beneficence in what are known as the
higher walks of life. It is slowly leavening all
classes and conditions. Still, fact lags behind
prophecy. But the lion and the lamb are yet to
lie down together and be ruled by the spirit of
the little child. This is written in the vision of
Isaiah. It is emphasized in the Sermon on the
Mount. It is the fundamental doctrine of Him that
" came not to be ministered unto but to minister, and
to give his life a ransom for many." It was the
stress of that idea which brought Jesus to exchange
God's throne for God's footstool. Oh, the sweet-
ness of the story, of Him " mighty to save!" We
recognize and admire its manifestation in the Re-
deemer. We recognize and admire its imitation in
the favored and the gifted. We hail it as the earnest
of a millenium drawing near. But how few of us are
bringing the doctrine home for daily application. We
class ourselves among the weak, and not among the
strong, and thus seek to excuse ourselves from duty.
Instead of lifting we are waiting to be lifted; instead

BA CO ALA UREA TE ADDRESS. 69

of sweetening the live of others, we are ^expecting
them to sweeten ours.

No might but God's is absolute. That of men is
relative. The power of One only encircles the uni-
verse. What shall we say of the most exalted human
greatness, when we survey a pitiful spectacle like
that the other year, beneath the rotunda at Wash-
ington, and then looking up try to catch some van-
ishing conception of that dome of the infinite where
reigns from everlasting to everlasting the "King
eternal, immortal, invisible!" When we make the
contrast thus the verdict must be, "vanity of vanities,
all is vanity." Yet, from that noble life, both in its
vigor a % nd in its vanishing, has come to fifty millions
a sweetness unknown since the great bitterness of
the rebellion.

Shorten the reach of thought. Mentor, Springfield,
1865 and 1881, Lincoln and Garfield strength
and sweetness for the republic. It is not very far
from Mentor and Springfield to Jacksonville. Shall
not the inspiration travel hither? . Here is no starry
dome of firmament. Here is no glittering rotunda.
Your life and mine may be vaulted very low, yet it
has its outlook of shining possibilities. We are in-
significant, when placed side by side with these illus-
trious names. But there are those, in contrast with
whom we are strong. With such, daily association
makes us very familiar.

Walk up and down this weary, suffering world,
with eyes like Christ's. Let issue from your lives an
influence so blessed, that, though you be not heralded
as the great benefactors of the race, though your
death produce no universal shock, though your fune-
ral train be humble, though no splendid mausoleum

yo SERMONS 'AND ADDRESSES.

mark your final resting place, there shall rise to
God the silent testimony of sorrowing souls that
you have comforted : Out of the strong came forth
sweetness, as I was drinking of Marah's bitterness.

My young brethren of the gradiiating class : While
civilization in general is progressive, the conflict be-
tween labor and capital, for a season, wages hotter
and hotter. The poor grow poorer, the rich grow
richer, in the great centers of population. The mis-
sion of liberally educated men, during this genera-
tion, should be to aid in quieting the antagonisms
of society.

Instead of standing aloof in the pride of superior
culture; instead of seeking, within learning's secluded
cloisters, to forget the world's wants and woes; in-
stead of fanning into flame the passions of an igno-
rant populace; instead of selling mind's most pre-
cious gifts to the highest bidder in the temple of
mammon, 'the alumni of our colleges should be the
great peace-makers of our republic, patiently study-
ing the situation, and impartially speaking, with the
voice of authority, as the heralds of good will.

The times demand that our institutions of learning
shall give to the world more men of might, kingly
men, to wield the sceptre in every realm of thought.
The colleges must develop mental vigor and power.
Recreant to duty is the instructor who fails to make
that idea ever prominent in the class-room. But
that does not justify the fostering of an intellectual
aristocracy, or of a literary class which shall wall
itself round with monasticism, or of an adroit body
. of schemers who shall, for their own advancement,
flatter the prejudices of an illiterate rabble upon the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 7 1

one side, or, upon the other, ally themselves with
grasping and dangerous monopolies.

A liberal education pre-eminently qualifies its pos-
sessors, to act as blessed mediators among men.

The commonwealth calls upon its colleges to pro-
vide a " Third Estate," wise and benevolent, which
shall hold the balance of power, and devote itself to
the reconciliation of labor and capital, the highest

interests of which are one and the same forever.
####*#

Brethren^ are you going from us with a hand that
clutches and. shuts up like the talons of a hawk ; or
with an open palm, eloquent of beneficence?

We have watched you adding increments of
strength as the months have glided by. Some of
you were well advanced upon the course, when you
joined the class with which you graduate ; others
have spent four years within the institution; while
others, still, have struggled gallantly for twice that
period, to overcome the pecuniary and physical ob-
stacles which lay between you and a liberal educa-
tion. Your instructors feel that they are not send-
ing forth any of you as weaklings in the struggle of
life. We anticipate, in every case, a fair measure of
worldly success. Congratulating you on your cred-
itable intellectual equipment, we rejoice still more
in believing that no one is the slave of those vices
which brutalize and destroy, that no one has at
graduation a character less noble than at matricula-
tion. There is not a man among you who would
not stand this afternoon with uncovered head before
the dignity of virtue and the beauty of holiness.

It is a source of thanksgiving that a goodly num-
ber depart from college bearing that name which is

72 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

above every other. Pardon loving plainness of
speech; would to God that, at this hour, I might
strike hands with you all, as fellow-servants of Him
whom I glory in calling Master and Lord.

That were the very best pledge, that out of the
college-bred " strength, should come forth sweet-
ness" to the world.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

BEFORE THE CLASS OF .1884.
"Every one over against his own house." Nehemiah iii: 28.

YOUR attention will be directed to the college
application of the text, " Every one over against his
own house." The immediate duty of economists,
patriots and Christians in the Old West to the col-
leges of the Old West !

Whether or not Greek be a college fetich, the
college itself is not an American fetich. It has been,
it is, and it is to be, a prime factor in our Christian
civilization. The curriculum may be changed, but
the college will stand. None question this concern-
ing the well-endowed institutions of the East. The
curriculum may be changed, but the college must be
founded. None question this concerning the New
West.

But what shall be done in the Old West? Around
this inquiry there gathers no more any halo of ro-
mance, any enthusiasm of religion, any glamour of
glory. The subject excites great confusion of
thought and speech. First comes the cry, " The In-
terior is founding too many colleges." That was
true prior to 1870. But turn to the last report of the
commissioner of education, and you will find that,
for. the preceding seven years, only one college a
year had been founded throughout the Republic.
Ohio is the state worst afflicted with college mania.
The disease has produced thirty-six institutions, but
even there the malady is rapidly abating. There

74 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

has been only one addition since 1875. Not a col-
lege has been established in lo.wa since 1875, not
one in Michigan or Minnesota since 1874, not one in
Missouri since 1873, not one in Illinois since 1870,
not one in Wisconsin or Indiana since 1867. I sub-
mit it, as a proved case, that the evil is stopped, and
that there is now no further ground for the charge
that the Interior is founding too many colleges.
That gun is spiked.

Next is heard the complaint, " The Old West
already has too many colleges." This cannot be
denied, if you grant the name to every institution
with a charter, paying no attention to its courses of
study, to the number and attainments of its faculty,
and to the amount of its endowment fund.s. But it
would be an insult to an audience like this to enter
upon a labored argument to prove that these three
particulars must be considered, in deciding whether
.an institution has any right to its title. Now, the
eight states just mentioned constitute the Old West.
To these the commissioner's report assigns one hun-
dred and thirty-five colleges; when, however, you
test them by curriculum, faculty and funds, not half
deserve the name assumed. Were there time, I
should be glad to take these eight states .in succes-
sion, and demonstrate the assertion true of every
one, but these minutes are too precious, and I must
therefore confine your attention to a single state,
and let that speak for all. Which state shall it be?
Ohio, on the extreme east, is too old to be the repre-
sentative of the section. Minnesota, on the .extreme
west, differs from the rest in her system of educa-
tion. Missouri, on the extreme south, is very unlike

ive of the others. Illinois, in the centre, has more

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 75

Clements common to all than any other. It is there-
fore the fairest typical state. To this it adds the
crowning * advantage of being the best known and
best loved by the audience.

Begin, then, with the curriculum test. Of the
twenty-seven so-called colleges in Illinois, there is
not one whose standard for admission is not half a
year behind that of Harvard. Of the twenty-seven
there may be six whose standard for admission is as
high as that of Williams, Amherst, Dartmouth and
Bowdoin. Of the twenty-seven, there may be six
others whose graduates could -enter the senior class
at Williams, Amherst, Dartmouth and Bowdoin.
The graduates of the other fifteen would be prepared
in a scattering way for the sophomore or junior class
at Williams, Amherst, Dartmouth and Bowdoin.
The fifteen are not colleges.

Apply next the faculty test. The typical Interior
college, with three years for a preparatory course
and four years for a college course, furnishes daily
twenty-one recitations of an hour each. Five pro-
fessors will carry twenty of these, leaving to the
president one daily recitation, one sermon on Sun-
day, the routine of local administration and the gen-
eral financial management. This is the smallest
faculty that can do the regular work efficiently.
There should be eight professors, to perform ordin-
ary class-room duties vigorously, .and also to meet
those calls for general literary services, which a col-
lege constituency is constantly making, and which
must be met, if the institution would have its power
felt far and wide.

On consulting the commissioner's report to apply
this truth, I discovered that it did not give the data

7 6 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

needed, as I compared statement with statement and
with my personal knowledge of particular institu-
tions. For example: an institution claiming sixteen
professors and instructors, the largest faculty in the
state, could not show a single endowed professorship
or even a single dollar at interest. Moreover, not
long before, one of the advertised professors in the
same school told me that he had never heard a reci-
tation, never delivered a lecture, and that he did not
know that he belonged to the corps of instruction.

Again: The report showed the total income of the
same so-called college to be only $5,000. Deducting
nothing for incidental expenses, which are always
heavy, and appropriating the whole amount to sal-
aries, you would have for each teacher an average of
a little more than $300 a year. Such figures need
no comment. Baffled in the inquiry in this direc-
tion, I adopted another plan, to ascertain at how low
a rate a competent faculty of five professors and a
president could be secured. From correspondence
with the authorities of ten of the best colleges of the
interior, I found that the average salary of their pro-
fessors was $1,400, and of their presidents, $2,000.

That would make the necessary cost for instruc-
tion $9,000. From $1,000 to $3,000 more would be
demanded for other expenses. So that an income
of from $10,000 to $12,000 would be the least with
which respectable college requirements could be
met. Only seven of our twenty-seven showed an
income of at least $10,000. Only seven, therefore,
had resources to carry on college work creditably.
The candor of this treatment of the question is
manifest from the statement that Illinois College
was not one of the seven, in 1881, the year that the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. >]>J

report was published. It was one of four others
with an income of $8,000. Since then, however, it
has brought its income up to $13,000 and is at length
doing genuine college work, without encroaching
upon its endowment funds for current expenses. So
far as the writer knows, the other three are in the
same critical condition as in 1881, either furnishing
inferior instruction, on their legitimate revenue, or
adequate instruction by consuming their capital, a
plan which means first slow, then quick suicide.
Viewed in this light, only from eight to eleven of the
twenty-seven can possibly retain a faculty qualified
to give the necessary instruction, so as to command
the respect and attendance of young men.

Look also at the question directly from the
endowment ground. It is preposterous for an insti-
tution, with no money at interest, to lay claim to the
name of college in the latter part of the nineteenth
century. Yet ten of the twenty-seven own no pro-
perty except their site and buildings. They have all
been in existence from fourteen to thirty years. If,
in that time, they have not been able to put a dollar
at interest, what are their prospects for the future ?
Six have endowments ranging from $600 to $50,000;
six, from $50,000 to $100,000; and five, from $100,000
to $360,000. Now, any practical man, who has stu-
died this subject patiently for years in the Interior,
will say, without hesitation, that an institution with
less than $100,000 of endowment, in addition to com-
fortable buildings, is no't safe; that, possibly, one
with less than $50,000 may struggle up to respectabil-
ity; that between $50,000 and $100,000 possibility
changes rapidly to probability; that at $100,000, with
wise management, the crisis is past, and that, when

7 8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

an institution has $250,000 in plant and $250,000 at
interest, its resources are ample for a very beneficent
career. Applying this reasoning to our twenty-
seven, we may write upon the charters of ten, can-
celled; of six, forlorn hope; of six, brightening pros-
pects; of five, victory, now, or by-and-by.

Our three paths have led us to the same general
conclusion, that less than half of the twenty-seven
can live as colleges.

What, then, shall we do with those that cannot?
" Seek for them consolidation with the stronger
institutions," is the reply most naturally suggested
to the simply business man on the street, and to the
mere theorist in his study ; but any one who has ex-
perimental knowledge of the situation will answer,,
" consolidation is an impossibility." This plan
which some are advocating as a new idea is a very
old idea. The plan has been tried, time and again,
for the last forty years, and has proved a failure.-

. This doctrine of college Nirvana, the absorption of
the lesser by the greater, however beautiful in the
abstract, refuses to take concrete form. Every one
of our typical twenty-seven is eager to absorb,- but
riot one of the twenty-seven will consent to be
absorbed. And even if the institutions were ready
to transfer property, give up name and surrender
individuality, there would be insuperable obstacles
of a local, legal and sectarian nature. Our Metho-
dist brehren, whose system gives them more con-
trol of their colleges than has any other denomina-
tion, assure me that, much as they desire union in
several cases, it can not be effected.

We are not dealing with an deal state of affairs.
As sensible men we must make the best of things as-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 79

they are. It behooves us to remember that we are
working not in a millennium, but for a millennium.
What then, is to be the fate of these weaker schools?
Extinction? Not in many instances. They must,
however, learn to die as colleges and live as acade-
mies. The Interior needs academies, and there is
no danger that they will be unduly multiplied.
Most, perhaps all, of these institutions have re-
sources enough to make them a great local blessing
in this changed relation. So soon as they attain to
dying grace as colleges, they will attain to living
grace as academies. This will require time. There
is a charm about the name of college, which will lead
its unworthy possessors to cling to it to the last.
But, as the contrast between their sham .selves and
the colleges which are such in reality becomes more
glaringly manifest, public ridicule will compel the
adoption of a less pretentious appellation.

We are now justified in dropping from further
notice on the present occasion, half or two-thirds of
our nominal colleges in the Interior. As mere,
neighborhood schools, they should be left to the
care of the neighborhoods in which they are located.
This elimination simplifies the problem. We find
that of our typical twenty-seven, eleven, from their
standard of scholarship,' from the attainments of
their instructors and from the amount of their pro-
ductive capital, may properly be dignified as col-
leges. Of these, only one, the Northwestern, at
Evanston, is so amply endowed as to be free from
embarrassment. Four have passed the crisis, but
they are sadly crippled by lack of pecuniary re-
sources. Six, though in peril, will probably survive
the struggle for existence. What should be done

80 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

with the eleven? At this point, we encounter some
who maintain that there should be one college, and
only one college' in a state. Without question, every
state should have at least one institution devoted to
the higher learning. That is a state privilege, a
state right, the dignity of every commonwealth de-
mands such a centre of mental and moral power.

But is it not absurd to claim that a state like
Rhode Island should have as many colleges as a
state like Illinois? Rhode Island contains 1,000
square miles, Illinois, 56,000 square miles. Rhode
Island counts a population of a quarter of a million,
Illinois, of three millions. The number of institu-
tions should be decided by three considerations,
extent and nature of territory, population and char-
acter of population. Let us now apply these con-
siderations: New England sustains seventeen col-
leges. None of them could well be spared. The
weaker are proportionately as valuable as the
stronger. The finest service is not necessarily ren-
dered by the richest college. Said ex-president
Woolsey, to a friend of the writer: " Had I my life
to live over, I would cast in my lot with one of the
smaller institutions. I could have more influence in
training mind and shaping character." Said presi-
dent Seelye to another friend of the writer: " Our
classes are growing so unwieldy that they lessen our
efficiency." It is better that the four thousand col-
lege students proper in New England should be
scattered among seventeen institutions, than that
there should be only six colleges with seven hun-
dred students each. It is better for the young men
themselves. It is better for New England herself.

Now,, the area of New. England is to that of

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 8 1

Illinois as seven to six. So far as mere territory . is
concerned, claiming nothing for the richness of our
soil, if New England needs seventeen colleges Illi-
nois needs fifteen. The population of New England
is to that of Illinois as four to three. So far as popu-
lation is concerned, if New England needs seventeen
colleges, Illinois needs thirteen. Should exception
be taken to the character of our population, you
may be astonished to learn from the commissioner's
report that the illiteracy, the inability to write, in
New England, between the ages of fifteen and
twenty, the college period, is five per cent.; while in
Illinois it is less than four per cent. Still it cannot
be denied that there is a higher culture among the
upper classes there, which would naturally produce
more college material than you would look for here.
Yet the difference is not great. There are in the
collegiate departments there four thousand students,
here two thousand. When, however, you remember
that New England keeps her material at home and
also draws freely from abroad, while Illinois sends
'her material freely eastward and gets none in return,
you will be convinced that Illinois is falling but
little behind all New England in the number that
she matriculates somewhere.

These three lines of argument justify the conclu-
sion that, should eleven of our colleges be main-
tained, they would not be too numerous for the pre-
sent, much less for the prospective educational
wants of a state which will contain a population of
four millions before the year 1900.

Glance now at the question of economy. We
hear a constant clamor about the comparative edu-
cational extravagance of the Interior. The large

82 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

attendance at an eastern institution is contrasted
with the small attendance at a western institution.
Harvard does have fourteen hundred students in all
departments, while the average attendance in all de-
partments at Illinois colleges is only one hundred
and seventy^ But Harvard has one hundred and
twenty-eight instructors, one for every eleven stu-
dents, while the average number of instructors for
Illinois colleges is ten, one for every seventeen stu-
dents. There is widespread ignorance of the fact
that the larger the number of students in an institu-
tion the larger relatively is the number of instruc-
tors. I repeat it: Harvard pays one teacher for
every eleven students, while the Interior colleges
pay one teacher for every seventeen students. The
bearing on the question of comparative economy is
obvious.

But we must hasten to the teachings of patriotism.
The Mississippi valley is destined to be, in mater-
ial resources, the richest section of the Union.
Shall it be abandoned, intellectually, as the Great
American Desert? Shall brain withdraw, giving up
the Interior to brawn and bullion? No. Save these
institutions of liberal learning, to leaven society, and
to give tone to civilization. A region destitute of col^
leges or possessing colleges so weak as to incur gen-
eral contempt, will inevitably grow coarse in its
tastes and sordid in its ambitions. But let there be
an institution worthy of the name, within a hundred
miles of every household, and it flashes vividly be-
fore the mind of every child a high ideal of culture,
character and life, inspiring parents also to seek for
the realization of that ideal in those whom they love.
The presence' of even these poverty-stricken colleges

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 83

of the Old West has aroused to a desire for know-
ledge, and has led to graduation thousands who, but
for that presence, would have been quickened to no
such longing, much less have been able to enjoy its
gratification. There can be no more forcible protest
against a grovelling animalism than the sight of an
ingenuous band of youth zealously devoted to cul-
ture and to all that gives manhood its crowning
glory.

It passes comprehension, how men who owe all
that they have and all that they are to a state like,
this, will turn a deaf ear to the calls of struggling
institutions near at hand, and either do nothing for
enterprises which bless society and render life rich
and precious, or help to swell the endowments of
far away colleges worth from one million to five mil-
lions, and will, furthermore, send their sons east to
get an education, to come back full of contempt for
" fresh-water colleges," and to belittle all efforts to
sweeten arid brighten and gladden the social, mental
and moral order of the commonwealth.

Citizens of the Old West ought to put both their
money and their boys into the colleges of the Old
West. We need a revolution on the doctrine of
State's Rights in Education. In this, he serves his
country best who serves his state the best. Train
the home boy in the home college. During the
formative period, cultivate in him local attachments,
enthusiasm in whatever pertains to the honor and
dignity of his native state. When he is more
mature, if you would give him special studies, which
are not yet taught here, or if you would make his
tastes mc-re cosmopolitan, let him have a post-gradu-
ate course of one or two years at the east) or upon

84 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the continent. Thus will he be qualified for more
contented, hearty, vigorous citizenship in the Inter-
ior, than if you should send him, a callow youngster
of sixteen or eighteen, to four years of exile at Yale
or Harvard.

Religion emphasizes the same doctrine. Under-
mine the Christian college and you undermine the
Christian church. Let the Christian college languish,
and the Christian church will languish. If you
would strengthen the Christian churches of the
^Interior, endow and patronize the Christian colleges
of the Interior, binding churches and colleges to-
gether, not ecclesiastically, but spiritually, in the
name of Father, Son and Holy Ghost. This ques-
tion is of vital importance to pew and to pulpit. The
larger the educated membership, the greater the
efficiency of a church. Religion in bidding farewell
to learning, degenerates into fanaticism.

The connection of liberally trained men with a
church gives wisdom in council, enriches the prayer-
meeting, incites the pastor and commands the res-
pect of the world.

Such members hold the balance of power between
poverty and wealth, and mediate between those ex-
tremes, which produce antagonism in religious as
well as in social organizations. The natural way to
bring these influential elements into the home
church, is to educate our sons in the home college,
where they will be trained in generous sympathy
with the demands of Christian civilization in the In-
terior.

The very smallness of a college strong enough to
insure respect, gives it an intellectual and spiritual
supremacy over young men, which the great univer-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 85

sity loses by its very greatness. Small classes bring
their members individually under the mental and
religious influence of consecrated instructors, as is
not possible where classes number from one hundred
to two hundred, though teachers be equally earnest
Christian men. Revivals are more numerous, pro-
babilities of conversion are greater, and the percent-
age of candidates for the ministry is much higher, in
the smaller colleges than in the larger. This does
not, however, prove either the unsoundness, or the
unfaithfulness of the faculties in the latter. It grows
out of the nature of things. The Great Teacher him-
self recognized this limit of personal influence. He
understood spiritual dynamics. He did not choose
a class of a hundred, but a class of only twelve, when
he would, by intimate association, day after day,
possess disciples with his doctrine, and fill them with
that enthusiasm of humanity which should revolu-
tionize the world.

One Sunday evening a few weeks ago, I was wan-
dering alone in the moonlight, among the buildings
of Harvard University.

How painfully insignificant seemed these little
colleges of the Interior. But then came the thought,
this is not the place for our boys of eighteen. This
should be the resort for men of twenty-five men
who no longer need the personal interest and frater-
nal counsel of the self-sacrificing teacher men who
are old enough to be their own masters and to make
their own choices independently men who are quali-
fied to exchange the class-room for the lecture-room,
men who are ready to devote themselves to special-
ties and systems, caring only for the erudition of in-
structors, the treasures of science, art and literature,

86 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and all those stimulating associations which, from
such surroundings, inspire one who knows at length
what he wants to be and do in the world; but the
best place for our boys of eighteen is. some humble
college like Knox, or Beloit, or Olivet, where they
shall be personally watched over, as younger breth-
ren, by a Bateman, or an Emerson, or a Butterfield.

If the Old West would have educated and conse-
crated men in the pews and in the pulpits of her
churches, let her come to the rescue of her colleges.
The demands are not exorbitant. The cry of these
institutions is, " Give us neither poverty nor riches."
A college does its most blessed service in moulding
the character of students, and in imparting moral
tone and vigor to society, when it is not either
cramped for pecuniary resources, or " rich and in-
creased in goods." An institution is like a man. It
must have a certain amount of capital to give it effi-
ciency and consequent respect. Beyond that there
is danger that abounding wealth will produce pride
and a general worldliness, quenching that profound-
ly religious spirit which has made our colleges foun-
tains of refreshment to the republic and to Thy
Kingdom, God.

As economists, as patroits, and as Christians, we
ought to pursue this eclectic plan, to select such a
number of these institutions as the Interior demands,
and as have earned the right to the name which they
claim, and endow them immediately according to
their necessities.

The president of an Eastern university, which is
worth $5,000,000, still pleads its poverty. But the
question of this hour is not of grand universities. It
confines itself to humble colleges, which, do not as-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 8>J

pire to be universities, but which do seek to become
colleges in all respects worthy of the name. An in-
crease to half a million each, $250,000 in plant and
$250,000 at interest, would put every such institution
into admirable working order. But if only an in-
crease to $250,000 at interest could be straightway
secured, local and personal attachment would be so
stimulated as to provide the increase in plant, -at no
distant day. Therefore, swell to a quarter of a mil-
lion the endowment fund of every college in the Old
West which has at least $100,000 thus secured. Up
and down the Mississippi Valley, let the rally cry
ring!

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class: Very
different was the baccalaureate address first planned
for this occasion. But I finally concluded that the
best service which I could render both you and the
institution, would be, to give, as a graduating lesson,
this discourse upon the colleges of the dear Old
West, which I hope will always be your home. You
are not the sons of wealth. You have no great for-
tunes to consecrate to any beneficent enterprise.
The rich young men are usually sent to the rich col-
leges of the East. That centers their interest, and
the interest of their fathers, in institutions far away.
This is one of the chief causes of our poverty. As a
rule, our graduates come from families in moderate
.or even straitened circumstances. However loyal
they and their sires may be, the pecuniary ability to
do is limited.

It is one special mission of these meagerly endow-
ed colleges of the Interior to awaken, among the less
affluent, a passion for the higher learning, and .to
put within their reach facilities for its gratification.

88 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

That special mission is our joy, but it is also our
embarrassment; for it brings but little of this world's
glitter and still less of its gold.

Have we not then a right to expect, that whoever
takes a diploma, will take with it a solemn pledge, to
give all his influence from that day, and to devote a
portion of his earnings from that day to the service
of his Alma Mater?

For several seasons there was a nest in one of the
old trees on College Hill. The first spring it was
only a handful of twigs. But the chicks of that
summer came back full grown, the next year, and
the nest grew larger, and was better woven together
with bits of thread and twine. And when the third
generation returned, they added still more to the
structure, and lined it with wool, and cotton, and
silk, and down.

What shall be said of the fledgling that drops out
of the college nest with a thud, and a cry against the
hardness of those dry old sticks. Rather take wirig
with a song and fly back, by-and-by, to enlarge
and to beautify.

Figure and fact combine to suggest an omen in
the sky. Shall it not be interpreted to mean the
devotion of class after class to the college on the
hill?

One of your number is the son of a member of my
class of '57. He is the first boy from that class to
graduate; and as the eye runs over the present list
of under-graduates, all the boys from the class of
'57 who are studying in college anywhere, are study-
ing here. The example is worthy of imitation, now,
and in the years to come.

But forecast, however cheerful, has its strain of

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 89

apprehension. This concerns alike the institution
and her sons. The greatest danger to her and to
you, my friends, is the lack of religious consecration.
We are content with what has been done for you,
intellectually, and with what you have done for
yourselves, intellectually. We do not fear that you
will ever recall any great, inexcusable neglect, on
either side, in that direction.

But there is how shall I word it delicately, yet
honestly there is a sense of dissatisfaction at the
spiritual outcome, as we stand here face to face!
Four years condensed into one moment, before God.
Boys, are you quite satisfied yoiirselves?

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.
BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1885.

" Arise, therefore, and be doing and the Lord be with thee."
I Chronicles, xxii: 16.

ONE generation soweth that another generation
may reap. Such is God's law for the enrichment of
the race. Viewed in the abstract, the principle
shows only a beneficent face; but, when applied in-
dividually, it exhibits some features of hardship.

You never read the story of which the text is a
portion, without finding the heart going out very
tenderly to David, over the great disappointment of
his life. Like Moses, he was brought to the border
line of his fondest hopes, but not permitted to cross
that line. Like Moses, he made everything ready
for the use and enjoyment of his successor.

Still, in our final estimate, he stands far higher,
because of his patient and unselfish preparation of
the materials for Solomon to put into the temple,
than he would have done, had he not himself given
up all idea of rearing that magnificent structure.
Nobler than the victory of the shepherd lad over
the Philistine giant, was the victory of the shepherd
king over himself, when he was able to say, without
a single rebellious thought, "Arise, therefore, and be
doing, and the Lord be with thee."

We can not turn to the theme of the afternoon,
without at least this passing allusion to the struggle and
the triumph, within the breast of him who uttered
the text. This brief tribute, however, must suffice;

92 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

for our present concern is with the son, rather than
with the father.

Like Solomon, we are all debtors to the past. It
brings its treasures of various sorts very freely for
our appropriation. There is a long period, during
which we are, in the main, beneficiaries. Our at-
titude ought to be one of gratitude. So far, we
can claim no credit. We are responsible, however,
for putting ourselves into the best receptive con-
dition. While David was accumulating the cedar,
iron, brass, silver and gold for his successor, the
latter kept himself in careful training, so that he
might wisely, discharge the future trust. Such
thankful receptivity becomes us all, in view of our
heritage from the by-gone. No princely portion
comes to us, separately, as it did to Solomon, but all
have a rich legacy in the physical comforts, the in-
tellectual acquisitions, and the spiritual benefactions,
which the ages have left as a general contribution to
mankind. We are invited to appropriate these
reverently, but without hesitation, that we may fit
ourselves to stand in our lot, and, in turn, contribute
our portion to the heritage of those who shall come
after. But when this period of comparative absorp-
tion is past, we hear the command ring out loud and
clear, "Arise and be doing." The general nature of
the injunction is the same for both secular and religi-
ous activities. The soul must be up and on the
watch. It can not slumber on in the cabin any more,
trusting to the pilotage of others. It must be on
deck and in command for itself. There may be here
and there a person whose "strength it is to sit still,"
but such exceptions can not overthrow the well nigh
universal rule.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 93

Accordingly the first stress falls upon the word
"Arise." Thus we take the attitude which gives the
best control of every faculty. Plant a man upon his
feet if you would secure for him the highest respect.
A message delivered from a recumbent position
lacks authority. A speech pronounced in a sitting
posture may have a certain conversational grace, but
it is shorn of oratorical power. Standing, in the
presence of others, is often interpreted as only a
token of respect for them; but it has a deeper mean-
ing. Subjectively viewed, it signifies the laying
aside of indolence; it signifies alertness of body and
mind, tense muscle, excited brain. Objectively
viewed, it imparts a commanding dignity, which
half wins the battle, and insures a certain momentum
which completes the victory. William of Normandy
tripped and fell as he leaped ashore on the English
coast. He lay prostrate for an instant, an object of
derision; but, so soon as he sprang to his feet, and
with his right hand flung to the winds the sands of
the beach, friend and foe, saw in him William, the
Conqueror. The picture was a prophecy.

Humility, by derivation, means lying on the
ground. It is one of the Christian graces. There
are times and places, when and where, it is most ap-
propriate. But we should not stick in the literal.
The spirit of the virtue is consistent with erectness,
vigor, enthusiasm. Humility should never be con-
founded with a dawdling supineness. The latter is
an offence to men; much more must it be to angels
and to God himself.

Moreover, one must arise to get a correct general
view of the situation. The psalmist does speak of
happy communings with himself in the night

94 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

watches, but most of us cannot testify to such ex-
periences. Whatever we study thus becomes dis-
torted. Difficulties bulk up and bright possibilities
dwindle and fade, as the hours drag wearily along.
Not until we arise do things assume relative propor-
tion. With body prostrate on a sleepless couch in
the darkness, the mind loses the power of discrimi-
nation. Unnatural physical conditions produce a
species of temporary mental derangement. Now,
while such experiences are distressing, there are day
reveries which, though agreeable, are equally unnat-
ural. These sink difficulties out of sight and be-
wilder with fancied achievements. We sometimes
seek to balance the forebodings of the night by
these dreams of the day. Both habits are alike per-
nicious.

It is said of Frederick William of Prussia, that he
was always getting his legions ready for battles
which were never to come off. We are guilty of
even worse folly, in anticipating by night disasters
which never befall us, and by day, magnificent
things beyond our sphere. The king had at least
the satisfaction of knowing that his forces were bet-
ter disciplined; but with us the practice only demora-
lizes our faculties, and renders us more and more
helpless in the presence of such foes as we must en-
counter. Yet, important as it is to assume that at-
titude which will enable us to sweep the most ex-
tended horizon of possibilities, and to occupy the
most favorable position in relation to those possi-
bilities, we must not permit ourselves to pause there
too long. While a comprehensive survey of the
situation and a wise adjustment to its demands are
essential, there may be a temptation to remain

BACOALAUREATE ADDRESS. 95

stationary, when the hour has come for action. In
marking time we may march, and yet not forward
march.

In the text the words " be doing" follow the word
" arise " immediately. The verse itself is nervous.
Its very structure suggests energy as the first character-
istic of the " doing." That word " energy" signifies
from its derivation and composition, that one must
be wholly in his work. To some extent this has been
the secret of success throughout history, but it be-
comes increasingly so with every added century. As
civilization grows complex, competition is made
fiercer. The enterprises which come to the front
and stay there, do so by the consumption of person-
al energy. The fire-box must be kept full of fuel,
that the cylinders may have plenty of steam for
traction and velocity. This principle applies as thor-
oughly to religious as it does to secular mechanics
and dynamics. There are supernatural elements in
spiritual movements, but they do not take the place
of human energy. A Wycliffe and a Luther must
heed this fact, no less than a Galileo and a Newton.
So far the minister has no advantage of the mer-
chant. The Master's business will not thrive with-
out crowding, any better than the business of his
humblest servant.

We need also to guard against waste of energy.
In our best engines we get only about twenty per
cent, out of our coal. The rest is lost, that is lost for
the purposes intended. Nature doubtless uses the
other eighty per cent, somewhere and somehow, but
man is not entitled to the credit. We are even less
successful in economizing spiritual forces. They
escape in all directions. God probably employs

96 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

them for wise purposes under his government, yet
to us no thanks are due. Instead of remembering
that one safety-valve is enough, we multiply valves,
leave them all open, and then wonder that so little
is accomplished. In the natural world we recognize
the power of concentration. The only way to make
the Mississippi clear itself, is through the jetties.
But in the spiritual world, instead of strengthening
the jetties, we cut the levees, and then charge dis-
asters to the mysteries of Providence.

The " be doing" of the text contemplated neither
waste nor aimlessness. Solomon was lavish in his
use of materials, but he squandered nothing, he
made every bit of wood and metal tell toward the
realization of one grand plan. Men adopt system
in everything else, and then let religious activities go
at haphazard. Some entertain the notion that a
sharply defined method has about it an air of self-
sufficiency, which must be displeasing to the Most
High. Certain facts and utterances in the New
Testament, which were local and temporary in their
intention, have been forced into unwarranted uses.
In the first emergencies and crises of the Church,
the Apostles were re-assured by the promise of such
an interposition of the Holy Spirit as would render
premeditation, on their part, unnecessary. Full
divine illumination, the instant it was needed, was
pledged to take the place of forethought in speech
and prayer. Hence, to this day, not a few falsely
conclude that sermons and especially addresses to
the throne of grace should have no preparation;
that all should be left to immediate divine sugges-
tion, that everything studied must be artificial and
odius to heaven. A more careful examination of

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 97

the Sacred Record would correct this mistake. It
would show, even in the case of Christ and His im-
mediate followers, the greatest economy of the mir-
aculous. Natural agencies were made to take the
place of the supernatural, as rapidly as possible-
There may still be special instances in which we may
properly look for special aid from heaven, when we
are to be peculiarly absorbed in momentous affairs.
There was appropriateness in the prayer of the
Christian general as the battle opened: " Lord,
thou knowest how busy I must be this day. If I
forget thee, do not thou forget me march on,
boys! " But, in all the regular religious affairs of
life, where time and opportunity are given for the
use of our own faculties, the presumption lies, not in
the employment of those faculties, but in indolently
trusting to God to bring us through. " Be doing"
is heaven's imperative.

Moreover, the doing must be continuous. It may
be remittent, but it should not be intermittent ; just
as the . tides rise and fall, yet keep up movement
without ceasing. There is a law of action and re-ac-
tion in spiritual affairs, which we must respect, and
which God himself respects. It is a fine secret, to
know how to relax and adjust the tension, to keep it
always on, and yet never let it break. We suffer
greatly from spasmodic action, followed by collapse.
He accomplishes most, who never lets go the thread
of his purpose, but steadily weaves it in, now rapid-
ly, now slowly, according to the changing conditions
in himself and in his environment. In such cease-
less effort, sundry cautions should be observed. Let
unhealthy competition be avoided. There is a con-
stant tendency to measure ourselves against one

98 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

another, to try to outstrip somebody else, to be un-
duly elated, when we are a length or two ahead, and
to be unduly depressed when we find ourselves drop-
ping behind. This vice gets into church politics, as
well as into state politics. It is also a constantly
disturbing element in the sphere of private Christian
life. Any pastor will tell you that this is one of the
most perplexing things to regulate among his flock,
to keep all running, and yet keep them running in
different directions, so that nobody is ahead, and
everybody is ahead. He is pretty well on toward
perfection, who is able to keep his eye steadily upon
the goal, without ever looking out of one corner of
his eye, to see whether somebody else is not coming
up alongside. How many in this audience can tes-
tify that they have attained unto that?

Not so bad, but still to be avoided, is the practice
of running Christian races with one's self. It is
well, now and then, to compare ourselves with our
former selves. This will give us wholesome reproof,
and, also, wholesome encouragement. But that is a
very different thing from apprehensively weighing
every performance by its predecessor. Such a prac-
tice makes one morbid and feverish and incapaci-
tates him for the best achievement. The energy
which is spent upon the anxiety to do one better so
enfeebles, that you do one worse instead.

The doing which satisfies the text is of a different
sort. The rule should be, to do our best under the
circumstances every time, without any comparison
with previous occasions. Pardon a personal allu-
sion, as it illustrates the principle. It was my privi-
lege, for fourteen or fifteen years, to preach to a
congregation of insane people. I used to try every

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

99

Sunday to make as good a sermon as I was able, for
those unfortunates. Friends often laughed at me
for wasting my pains. But the only way to the
hearts of those suffering men and women was such
laborious proof that I was trying to minister unto
them, to serve them. There was a constant satisfac-
tion in the effort, and then, when the pressure of
other duties forced me to resign the charge, I found
that, without knowing it, I had all along been doing
the best thing for myself, in establishing that habit
of work, and in getting the soul into sympathy with
all forms of heart-ache and wild woe a possession
forever. Continuous doing always enlarges the
knowledge, the ability and the sphere for doing.

Let these activities likewise be cheerful. There is
a strong strain of duty in our English blood, and
that is well. " What are your orders, if you are
killed?" said an officer to Wellington. Replied he,
" Do as I am doing. Remember old England." In
New England, in the council chamber, on the dark
day when all thought that the end of the world had
come, said Colonel Davenport: "The day of judg-
ment is approaching, or it is not. If it is not, there
is no cause for adjourning. If it is, I want to be
found doing my duty. Bring in the candles."

Such utterances are grandly heroic. No better
stimulant can be taken for low moral tone. Still
they accord better with Waterloos and solar eclipses
than with petty conflicts, under the light of common
day. Over the latter they cast too grim a shadow.
Our " doing" ought to be done with brighter faces
and cheerier speech. Opportunities for stage effect
are very limited. The theatres for our acting. are
the home, the school, the forum, the shop, the farm

IOO SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and the street. Our part is to be doing, with a glad-
ness which shines in the countenance and makes the
tongue musical. That is the spirit which should per-
vade every Christian psalm of life. Give us, O
God, more enthusiasm, more of thyself within the
soul, for its transfiguration before the world.

Religion may live without enthusiasm; but it can-
not propagate itself without enthusiasm. From this
it gets virility. You cannot point to any vigorous
enterprise of learning or philanthropy or Christian-
ity which is not kept moving by those whose hearts
drive warm blood, with every throb, into some part
of the organization. Churches languish, noble char-
ities languish, colleges languish, because they fall a
prey to the miserable spirit of routine. When the
minister's spiritual pulse beats feebly, and he plans,
perfunctorily, to get through with two sermons on
Sunday and a mid- week prayer-meeting,the preaching
grows thin and the congregation thinner, the prayer
grows cold and the prayer-meeting colder; till the
church thermometer marks zero. Benevolent
organizations lose the first love of their founders,
and fall into the hands of managers whose benevo-
lence is all nepotism, managers who fit up sinecures
for themselves, their children and their grand-chil-
dren, and thus, with the family sponge, absorb the
revenues intended for the poor and the unfortunate.
Teachers neglect preparation for recitation. . The
hour becomes insipid to them and to their classes.
They watch for the striking of the clock. They are
more eager than pupils for holidays. They grow to
live less and less for term time, and more and more
for vacation. September is somber, June brings
jubilee.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. IOI

The same demoralizing tendency is manifest in all
vocations. Lack of enthusiasm in whatever is wor-
thy means the absence of God therefrom.

******

The text concludes with the words, " The Lord be
with thee." The way and the only way to insure
His presence, is to "arise and be doing," in the
spirit inculcated this evening. Such consecration is
vital. Out of it are the very issues of life, life ever-
lasting.

Add to diligence in business, this fervency of
spirit, and you can never labor alone and in vain.
Take this doctrine back to your toil, of whatsoever
sort it be. The sweetest, richest, most blessed ex-
perience on earth is that of working thus for God
and with God.

Young Gentlemen of the Class 0/1885: Commence-
ment day is always an occasion of thanksgiving.
Sometimes it is merely thanksgiving for deliverance,
resembling that which gladdens the schoolboy, on
Friday evening, or at the close of the term. Gener-
ally, however, in addition to that sense of relief
which is natural on the completion of any round of
duties, the soul becomes aware of a new birth of
gratitude. A student never really learns to look
backward, until the day of his graduation. That is
a curious fact. You may get an inkling of my mean-
ing, this afternoon; for this address is the initial
formula of separation from the institution. There is
a loosening of the cords that have till the present
hour bound you to the college community. Hitherto
you have been regarded bv your fellow students as
comrades, entitled to the same rights and subject to
the same restrictions. You have been questioned

IO2 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

from the teacher's desk and spoken to from the pul-
pit on the same plane with other undergraduates.

But, now, the classes move forward. Other Sen-
iors are taking your places. You are crowded out.
The ordinary relation of instructor and pupil ceases.
The sermon of the day, by anticipation, brings spe-
cial greeting unto you as " Baccalaurei." As you
stand here the fact that you are with us, but, in the
old sense, not of us any more, begins to shape itself
in consciousness. It is a still hour. Softer airs are
playing. Memory touches a single tremolo strain.

But you will understand this far better on Thurs-
day, when you take your diploma and your flowers,
and go off by yourself, and sit down alone face to
face with the question, " What next? " The harder
you try to explore futurity, the more you will be
forced to look backward. You will regret that you
have neglected some things. You will be glad that
you have escaped some things. Your appreciation
of many things will be quickened. The result
should be a reverent gratitude, till then unknown.
At such a season, none but a coarse, depraved na-
ture could fail to recognize its debt to the past.

A profound thankfulness should characterize every
young man who has had the privilege of spending
six or seven years in liberalizing study. He does not
yet know much; but he has been trained to know,
and to do, and to be, according to the measure of
his faculties. His power of vision has been cultivated.
He sees what God has accomplished through human
agencies in the lapse of time. He is impressed with
the obligations which the generation present is un-
der to the generations past. He exults in the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 103

thought, that he is welcome to the priceless treas-
ures of the ages, according to his capacity to re-
ceive. Such devout gratitude is the noblest incen-
tive to " be up and doing." It takes the selfishness
out of ambition, and inspires one to make as large
as possible his little' contribution to the well-being
of man and the glory of the Creator. There is no
legal compulsion. The youth may take all and give
none. The future does not present to him any or-
der on demand signed by the past. There is in the
case no urgency except moral urgency, but, with an
ingenuous character, that is irresistible. So may it
prove with every one of you.

Your course during the year now closing justifies
the belief that this will not be a fruitless petition.
You remember that one day last September, I set
before you the proper relation of a Senior Class to
an institution of learning, and asked your quiet co-
operation with the faculty, in promoting whatever
pertained to college well-being. This was urged, as
a matter of duty and of privilege. The appeal met
a hearty response, and to your unobtrusive but mani-
fest sympathy with sobriety and manly endeavor,
should be credited not a little of the year's peace
and prosperity. Carry your class characteristic
from college to citizenship. " And the Lord be
with you." Believe me, this is not a formal benedic-
tion. Your general attitude respecting the good
and the true, has given you among your fellow-stu-
dents the humorous appellation of the "Twelve
Apostles." The term does not bear with it any
suggestion of cant and hypocrisy, or of alarming
saintliness. It is simply a good-natured recognition
of your moral standing. As such it is a high honor.

104 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

In this sense, may there be a large apostolic succes-
sion among these undergraduates.

Pardon one word more. Most of you acknow-
ledge Christ as Master and Lord. It is just half a
century since the first class went forth from the in-
stitution. It has been my most earnest wish, my
most constant prayer, that this fiftieth anniversary
might see every one of you, not almost, but alto-
gether Christian. Nothing less will express the
meaning which now surcharges the words: " The
Lord be withy oil."

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.
BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1886.

"As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." Proverbs, xxiii: 7.

THOUGHT makes character. This statement does
not pass unchallenged. Many criticise it, as too
sweeping an assertion. Substitute modifies for
"makes," and they would subscribe to the proposi-
tion. Should you ask them: " what then does make
character?" you would get different replies. Some
would answer: heredity. Man lives and dies what
he was born. If you could tell the tendencies with
which the infant was first laid in the cradle, you
could infallibly predict, what the moral nature of the
adult would be, when his body was laid in the
coffin.

Take from the veins of the newly-born babe a few
drops of blood, and an exhaustive analysis would
give you a picture of the soul, with the spiritual
lineaments which it must wear forever. Logical
consistency will drive the most radical advocates of
the doctrine of heredity to such pre-natal fatalism.

When led away from general declamation, to face
these specific statements and their consequences,
some admit that they did not realize the meaning of
their rhetoric, and retreat from their position; others
seek to cover their confusion with a still freer use of
figures of speech; while others, still, put on a bold
face, and declare this to be the ground on which they
are going to fight out the question.

Now, so far as my experience extends, while I

I06 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

find authors who maintain this extreme position, on
the printed page in general terms, I have never met
an individual who would affirm, concerning himself,
that his character was fixed before his birth, that its
essential features were settled by his ancestors, and
that all he had ever had the power to do, was to
change, in some slight degree, those traits which
had been forced upon him as an inexorable portion,
by preceding generations. Pursue the Socratic
method. Crowd the question out of the abstract..
Make it concrete. Apply it rigidly to the individ-
ual, and you will not find, in the whole circuit of
your acquaintance, a single person who will squarely
maintain that what he is to-day morally, is essenti-
ally the necessary product of his inheritance. Con-
sciousness when brought upon the stand and com-
pelled to testify without qualification or subterfuge,,
invariably answers Nay! Nay!

Consciousness, thus interrogated, is the only com-
petent and trustworthy witness. But, while we reject
the extreme views on heredity which we discover in
some so-called scientific treatises, let us not, in a
spirit of intolerance, refuse to admit the legitimate
claims of the doctrine. It cannot be denied that
character is always modified by inherited tendencies.
This may be granted without subscribing to any
form of necessity or fatalism, without abandoning
the perfect freedom of the individual will, in making
the individual character. Indeed, there is no other
way of rendering the supremacy of volition so con-
spicuous, as to emphasize the power of heredity, and
then demonstrate its subordination to the higher
principle.

The predispositions with which we enter the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 1 07

world are subtle and mighty in their influence. They
give great weight to certain probabilities. Still
there is never an instance, in which the current may
not be made to flow the other way. Due East may
not be changed to due West. There may remain
some traces of the original set of the stream, some
Eastings, but the prevailing direction may be made-
Westerly. That which started for the Atlantic will,
thus empty into the Pacific, though the Primary im-
petus may swing the river far Northward or South-
ward, before it finds its mouth.

In the game of life heredity plays a strong hand,
but volition always holds a trump card. If volition
is beaten, it is from neglect, and not from necesssity.

In the next place, we meet those who yield the
point just discussed, who grant that character is not
fixed by those tendencies with which we are born;
but who maintain that it is settled, by the physical
environment into which we are born. Henry Thomas
Buckle first popularized this idea, iri his History of
Civilization, by the prominence which he assigned
to climate, soil, food and the aspects of nature, in
shaping human destiny. There are now-a-days a
great many little Buckles, who give the doctrine a
rigid application, possibly never intended by their
great master. At all events, his disciples would use
the principle, to overthrow the idea of moral respon-
sibility. They claim that notions of right and
wrong which would be considered binding at the
Arctic Circle, all melt away under the heat of the
Tropics; that the system of ethics where men have
plenty to eat would lose all constraining power in
regions where famines are common; that ideas
which flourish at high altitudes amid stimulating

108 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

scenery, must perish when brought down to low
levels and vast stretches of monotony, just as cer-
tainly as the floras of the same regions die, when in-
terchanged.

The mind has a passion for analogies, which is
tickled by generalizations of this description. They
contain enough truth to make them as plausible as
they are captivating, until they are subjected to
close examination. You cannot study history, with-
out being struck with the general way in which cli-
matic belts have modified national characteristics.

A people's moral complexion will be affected by
food and drink. The general ethical standard will
vary, more or less, according to physical altitude
and outlook. One may freely admit all this, with-
out giving any countenance to fatalism or necessity,
without weakening in the slightest degree the string-
ency of moral obligation. You may adduce shining
examples, to prove that the doctrines of the Mount
of Beatitudes may be naturalized at the equator; that
the meat and drink interrogative need not corrupt
the imperative ought; and that Christian liberty may
be as valiant on lowlands as on highlands.

When your adversary declaims of freedom and
mountain heights, and points to Europe and the
Alps, bid him turn to Asia with her Himalayas, the
home of political and religious despotism in all ages.
The generalization breaks in two, precisely where it
looked strongest.

Even more satisfactory is the appeal to individual
consciousness. The doctrine of environment is
most vulnerable at the same point with the doctrine
of heredity. Go from meridian to meridian, from
parallel to parallel, arraying this principle in its

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 109

most attractive garb, ask every person whom you
meet whether he does not recognize the absolute
supremacy of this law over himself, and you will
not find a solitary mortal that will admit its domin-
ion in his own case. All will concede that these
considerations have an important influence, but
every one will strongly declare his own ability to
resist that influence.

Extend the thought from physical to social en-
vironment. The latter is even more powerful than
the former in modifying character. Morally, pure
companionship is more bracing than lake breezes.
Lofty ethical standards furnish a tonic more invig-
orating than any mountain altitudes. The preval-
ence of degrading conceptions of life will debase
worse than barren soil and meager diet.

Still, though we can not be too careful concerning
such surroundings, we know that there is not in
them, either singly or collectively, any compulsion
which the soul cannot resist. We say respecting
these as respecting the others, they modify but they
do not make character. The final analysis shows us,
that it is the individual will which fixes the individ-
ual character.

Now what is this will? Is it simple and independ-
ent? Or is it a product of other factors? The an-
swer is found in the text, " As a man thinketh in his
heart, so is he." Thought, affection, volition, char-
acter! The first two flow together into the third,
and that decides the fourth.

This view exalts thinking to a position which it
does not enjoy in the estimate of the multitude.
What is more common than the assertion that it
makes no difference what a man thinks; his actions

HO SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

only are important. The assertion betrays a great
lack of discrimination. It is true, if, by "what a
man thinks" you mean merely such general notions
as he assents to, without examination, because they
are constantly repeated in his hearing, notions which
have no more bearing upon his conduct than would
a fragment from the multiplication table, or any
axiom in geometry. It is true, if, by " what a man
thinks," you mean certain abstract formulae which
he has worked out for himself in mental gymnastics,
and which he lays up as bric-a-brac, curiosities to
amuse himself with, when he has nothing important
to do. It is true, if, by " what a man thinks," you
mean certain metaphysical propositions which he
has elaborated, but which have no more relation to
motives of conduct than do the properties of the
parabola. What is indicated in the first of these
suppositions, does not deserve the name of thinking.
What is indicated in the other two suppositions,
would be thinking of some sort, but not of the kind
defined by the text, which says explicitly, " as a man
thinketh in his heart, so is he." The thinking with
which we are dealing to-day is restricted to that
which embraces the heart in its circuit, which throbs
with all the emotions between fervid love and malig-
nant hate. If what you call your creed is made by
this kind of thinking, it is of momentous importance
what that creed is. Your character is in it, and be-
cause your character is in it, your eternal destiny is
in it also.

Let us examine these two kinds of thinking, head
thinking and heart thinking, more closely in their
bearings on the subject. Even the former has a cer-
tain dignity. Pure intellectualism is exalted far

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. Ill

above mere animalism. Better a thousandfold the
one who gives his days and nights to the coldest
and idlest speculations, than the one who can say
nothing but, let me eat, let me drink, and then let
me die.

The schoolmen of the middle ages excite your ad-
miration by their mental adroitness, at the same
time that you lament the waste of so much logical
subtlety. You put them far higher in the scale of
being than you do their contemporaries that gave
themselves up to revellings and debaucheries.

We have in modern times a race of essayists, who
take pride in studying all subjects in the white light
of pure reason. It is one of their first principles, to
guard against the disturbing influence of the emo-
tions. The view must be absolutely dispassionate.
Sufficient heat to quicken the pulse or flush the
cheek in any mental process brings the conclusion
into discredit. Matthew Arnold is the best repre-
sentative of the fraternity. Doubtless, they have
made valuable contributions to knowledge. We see
much to praise in the consistency and the persis-
tency of their course. Moreover, as they think, so
are they. In reading their books, you read them.
The volume formed the man, is the man. As the
ideas went into the treatise, they went into the au-
thor and fixed his character.

Now while we can justly set up this claim in such
cases; while we can show that mere cold intellec-
tualism has this irresistible power over those by
whom it is worshiped, it is pre-eminently the think-
ing in which head and heart sympathize that illus-
trates the text. Examples of the most opposite na-
ture might be multiplied. The doctrine points hell-

112 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ward as well as heavenward. With involuntary
actions, we have now no concern. We are dealing
with voluntary actions only. These are the chief
indices of character. They sometimes deceive, but
they are the best witnesses we can get, and they are
as a rule, trustworthy. Yet such actions are never
actions, until after they have been thoughts. They
are simply thoughts made visible. Christ was al-
ways laying the stress here. He ran the probe right
in the heart-thought, when he wanted to show up
what the man was. Said He: " Out of the heart pro-
ceed evil thoughts" Yes, but He does not stop
there. He goes on to actions "murders, adulteries,
fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies
these are things which defile a man." The heart is
the hidden nest, in which the whole infernal brood
is secretly hatched, long before the world is shocked
with outrage and atrocity.

The throne of Scotland would seem far enough
away from the barren heath where the witches are
dancing hand in hand. "All hail Macbeth! thou
shalt be king hereafter " nothing but a thought
a thought which has never before entered the mind
of that hitherto loyal soldier. But now it drops
from the witches' lips into the ear, and down, down
to the bottom of the heart. The noble nature strug-
gles for mastery. " Why do I yield to that sugges-
tion whose horrid image doth unfix my hair and
make my seated heart knock at my ribs against the
use of nature? Stars, hide your fires; let not light
see my 'black and deep desires."

And presently Lady Macbeth is reading a letter,
and her eyes catch those same words, " Hail, king
that shalt be." It is only a thought. But it has

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 113

dropped down, down to the bottom of her heart
also. And then the man and woman stand face to
face. They discuss that thought. The interview is
brief. But before they separate that thought has
become one hideous purpose in the breast of both.
" Out of the heart proceed murders." The character
and destiny of the two are fixed forever. Macbeth
and Lady Macbeth are already murderers, though no
dagger has. yet been lifted against Duncan or Ban-
quo.

Christ " knew what was in man." Shakespeare
knew what was in man. It is possible that even here
in the house of God, an evil spirit has its lips at your
ear, and is whispering some baneful suggestion to
your heart. Beware! it is possible that out of your
heart also may come that which will fill society with
mingled amazement, indignation and loathing.

Friends, it behooves us all, now and then, to walk
up to the brink of one of these chasms, and steady
ourselves, and look over and down, till we see the
lurid glow, and take into the lungs the hot breath of
the nether world. An unholy thought, getting pos-
session of the heart, hurled even a Lucifer into the
abyss. Who then does not need warning?

Turn next from such possibilities to those proba-
bilities, which are of universal application. It is not
likely, that any one into whose face I am looking is
being -swept along, by an overmastering thought,
towards some awful catastrophe. It is not likely
that any man present will ever be driven, to that,
which shall make him cry in the madness of re-
morse: " Avaunt, and quit my sight! Let the earth
hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is
cold! Thou hast no speculation in those eyes which

114 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

thou dost glare with." It is not likely that any wo-
man present will ever in her sleep walk up and
down, trying to wash from her hand the traces of
guilt, and sobbing in anguish " that, there's the smell
of blood still, that all the perfumes of Arabia will
not sweeten that hand."

But it is probable that thoughts, not shocking, yet
sinful, not straightway possessing the soul, yet lurk-
ing there and biding their time, slowly working,
never ceasing, are gradually, but surely, bringing the
character of many in this audience into a permanent
state of love for that which is bad, and of hatred for
that which is good. My unconverted friend, your
thoughts are thus constantly deciding what you are,
and what you are to be to all eternity. It is written
thus in Revelation. But I do not now urge Revela-
tion. It is written thus in the very constitution of
your being. Put the stress there, this afternoon. If
the Bible were destroyed and all its teachings were
forgotten, the argument would remain unshaken.
This fundamental fact is not a fact, merely because
the Bible declares it. The Bible declares it only
because it is a fact.

We are not now studying surface appearances.
We are searching for essential causes. We are try-
ing to follow the stream to its source. And when
we get to the fountain head, we find that out of the
thoughts are the issues of death or of life. Thank
God that these need not be such issues of death as
those which we have been describing. They may be
blessed issues of immortal life. The apostle is over-
powered with the grandeur of this possibility, when
he exclaims: "Whatsoever things are true, whatso-
ever things are honest, whatsoever things are just,

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 115

whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if
there be any virtue, if there be any praise, think on
these things" Keep the thoughts of the heart fixed
upon such themes, and your character will be slowly
but surely transfigured before the world.

This is at the same time the most trying and the
most ennobling task that can be set for itself by the
soul. The cost corresponds with the preciousness of
the product. The current of inclination and habit
sets the other way with mighty volume. Are you
not obliged to confess a great reluctance, if not a
deeply seated repugnance, concerning all such think-
ing? Can you put upon yourself any other strain so
great as that of keeping the gaze steadily fixed upon
the most exalted truths? Yet not till you overcome
this mental aversion, not till you get such a mastery
of your faculties, that they turn cheerfully to these
employments, can you hope for this transmutation
of better thought into better being.

I can detect in some of your faces a weariness,
from the effort to centre your attention upon this
topic, for even half an hour. But what you need,
what I need, what every mortal needs is the tension
of religious reflection. If men could be led to give
the thoughts of the heart assiduously to these lofty
themes we should begin to hear on every side the
earnest cry, " What shall I do to be saved? " Right
moral doing is the natural sequence of right heart
thinking.

The wicked man is challenged to bring his mind
under the power of the ideal of righteousness, and
to hold his mind there in reverent, prayerful eager-
ness. No wicked man can stand long in that atti-

Il6 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

tude, without becoming a righteous man. My im-
penitent friend, that which now forbids your salva-
tion, is this one persistent fact, that you will not
thus " think on these things." If you think at all on
the subject, your thinking is mere speculation, while
your heart is wedded to the pleasures of sense, to
the glittering follies and the unholy ambitions of
Vanity Fair. " As you think, in your heart, so are
you." As you continue to think in your heart, so
must you continue to be forever. I repeat it, you
may destroy Old Testament and New; but you can-
not change this constitution of the soul.

As the believer thinketh in his heart, so is he.
Church member, your ideal of Christian character
grades your character. You are to-day, essentially,
what you are required to be, by the standard upon
which your mind and heart are fixed.

We have now no concern with those fleeting vis-
ions, which sometimes bewitch the spiritual imagina-
tion, and which we often miscall our ideal. The real
ideal is that which we set before us resolutely, day
by day. Put that ideal higher. Only as that rises,
can we rise. As that rises, we shall rise till " Be-
holding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we are
changed into the same image, from glory to glory."

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class: During
the first two terms of the year, we were occupied to-
gether, in studying mental and moral philosophy.
The text book work and the lectures by Dr. H. K.
Jones opened before us provinces of investigation,
both profitable and delightful. The text of the
afternoon condenses into nine words those six
months of exploration. It epitomizes the science of
the soul. In the saying, " as a man thinketh in his

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. II>J

heart, so is he," you have a combined definition of
psychology and ethics, intellect, sensibilities, voli-
tion, character.

During the spring term, we have been separated
from one another, and in different places. I have
been engaged alone, in studying individual men. I
have been deeply interested in several involuntary
disclosures of character. I have also been confiden-
tially admitted to the " thoughts of the heart" in not
a few instances. Such relations are most sacred.
But there was one case which will always be associ-
ated with this text. It is mentioned, but in a cau-
tious way, so that no one will so much as suspect the
name.

I had been travelling several days, had lost several
night's rest, and had engaged the quietest room at
a hotel, intending to be asleep by eight o'clock. I
went to meet a seven o'clock appointment. I made
a short but urgent appeal, and was about to with-
draw, when the gentleman said that I must not go.
I sat down and soon took no note of time, as I lis-
tened to his views on business and education. I had
long admired him for his financial ability and clear-
ness of brain. The conversation increased the admir-
ation.

It was ten o'clock, and supposing that there was
nothing further to be said, I started to my feet once
more. But he told me not to hurry, and then he
opened his heart^'mio which I had never before been
invited to look. It was a beautiful revelation. Said
I, " 'The wind bloweth where itlisteth.' My friend,
I have never known you before. It is a quarter of
twelve. Let our talk begin here, when we meet
again. Good night."

Il8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

" As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he."
My young brethren, what is the thinking of your
heart? That makes character.

And in character is wrapped up eternal destiny.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.
BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1887.

" Thy Kingdom Come." The Second Petition of the Lord's
Prayer.

GOD commanded that every fifty years the trum-
pet of jubilee should be blown throughout the land
of Israel. The Christian Church, in imitation of the
Jewish, should pass... from one half century to
another with rejoicing. But we are not limited to
two festivals in a century. Every anniversary may
be made bright with prophecy, by keeping pace with
time, and from the review of fifty years just gone,
forecasting the fifty years to come. A century of
retrospect and a century of prospect would lack
vividness, for such periods stretch, respectively,
beyond our memory in the one direction and beyond
the possibility of our experience in the other. A
quarter century of retrospect and a quarter century
of prospect would be confusing, from the nearness
of the view. But when you speak of the half cen-
tury past, and the half century to come, the memory
of older men and women flies back to one limit,
and the anticipation of younger men and women
sweeps on to the other. Thus personal interest is
secured, and trustworthy data for prediction are
insured. Yet, even under these, the happiest con-
ditions, how much depends upon the selection of
the facts and the disposition of the seer?

The Queen's Jubilee calls forth the Miserere of a
Tennyson and the Gloria of a Gladstone.

I2O SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

" Poor old voice of eighty years, crying after voices that have

fled:

All I loved are vanished voices, all my steps are on the dead."
"Cries of unprogressive dotage, ere the gray beard fall asleep.
Noises of a current narrowing, not the music of a deep."

Read the second Locksley Hall, and then listen to
that other brave old voice of eighty years in the pro-
test which closes thus: "Justice does not require,
nay rather she forbids, that the Jubilee of the Queen
be marred by tragic tones." Is it possible that the
pessimistic review by the laureate and the optimistic
estimate by the stateman concern the same half
century ?

It is just fifty years since Lovejoy died, and since
the city of Chicago was born. Up from southern
Illinois still come stories of Egyptian darkness. But
what a brightening of these moral skies, since the
Alton riots of '37. Down from northern Illinois come
startling reports of heathenism in the metropolis.
Well, shall we for spiritual refreshment go back to
Fort Dearborn and the scalp dance of the Aborigines?
Notwithstanding these multiplying discouragements
of the prairie and these thickening perils of the city,
who does not envy yonder boy, who, fifty years from
to-day, shall bear witness to the splendid achieve-
ments of Christian civilization within the common-
wealth ?

But the outlook which we take this afternoon must
not be confined to our own state, or even to our own
republic. Let what has been said merely indicate
the time standard and spirit with which the world
survey should be made.

FIRST. Are we entering a half century of war,
or a half century of peace? Turn to the other

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 121

continent, and the political sky looks black Avith
storms. For months, the air has been heavy with
rumors of war. Many are affrighted. Confine atten-
tion to certain obtrusive features of the situation, and
the general prospect is most alarming. The standing
armies of the world cost two billions of dollars yearly..
France, Germany and Russia are the three great
powers that seem most eager for an outbreak of hos-

'tilities. France has half a million of soldiers ready
for service. Within twenty days she could bring into
the field two millions and a half of men well
acquainted with military tactics. Germany cannot
display forces quite as numerous, but she more than
makes good the difference in numbers, by superiority
in discipline. Russia enrolls, on a peace footing,
eight hundred thousand soldiers, and on a war foot-
ing, four millions. Of the other two great European
powers, Austria follows the lead of Germany, and
England grows yearly more reluctant to engage in
war. But even in the case of France and Germany,
we may be misled by this great military display.
With the former, it does not mean what it would have
meant in the time of the first Napoleon. Then it

. would have looked toward foreign conquest. Now
the chief aim is home defense. The Frenchman
still loves glory, but experience has taught him that
the way to glory is in consolidating his power, rather
than in extending his territory. The nation is forti-
fying every exposed point in her domain, not to es-
tablish a base for aggressive warfare, but to make in-
vasion impossible. France may go abroad to fight,
but her preference is to be let alone and let others
alone.

A united and independent Germany is Bismarck's

122 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ideal. It is chiefly to insure that, that he preserves
so belligerent a tone and attitude. That is the only
safety of the nation, considering the exposure of her
situation in all directions. Germany, like France,
may go abroad to fight, but her preference, also, is to
be let alone and let others alone. Great is the
change which has come over the spirit of her dream
these later years.

Russia only is possessed with the old craze for
conquest. It begins to be evident to the world that
with covetous eye she is looking beyond Turkey to
the British possessions in India. Other nations will
not permit this threatened overthrow of the balance
of power. Even if through jealously of Great Britain,
they were ready to connive at the invasion, England
is better able than ever before to defend her Asiatic
possessions. The completion of the Canadian Paci-
fic railway opens a new route to India, which in war
would be worth more for the transportation of troops
and military supplies, than would the Suez canal,
hitherto so jealously guarded. In short, all of the
leading peoples of Europe, with one exception, are
growing weary of foreign conquest, and it is their
common interest to curb Russia's aggressive spirit.
The continental outlook, studied with this broad sweep
of vision, is brighter than it was half a century ago.
The tendency of the next fifty years will be toward
the final establishment of national boundaries.
When that is accomplished, the economic folly of
spending two billions of dollars annually in military
display, will lead to a general disbanding of the
great standing armies of the world and their transfer
to the various fields of peaceful and productive in-
dustry. Mankind are rapidly coming to the conclu-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 123

sion, that the secret of national glory lies not in
martial achievement, but in the promotion of trade,
commerce, social science and moral reform. Such
is, unquestionably, the prevailing world-movement
of the age. Surface appearances may seem omin-
ous of war, but the mighty under-current makes for
peace.

SECOND. The coming half century of comparative
quiet among the nations is to be a period of good
will among men. Sectarian narrowness and bitter-
ness are disappearing. Fifty years hence, jealous
rivalry will be supplanted by generous emulation
among the denominations. Energies once worse
than wasted in strife will manifest themselves in a
quickened philanthropy. Already public and private
charities for the helpless multiply. Hospitals for the
curable insane and asylums for the incurable, bear
witness to the spread of Christian compassion. In-
stitutions for the blind and for the deaf and dumb,
from year to year make nobler provision for those
that must walk in the darkness and in the silence.
Fresh interest is shown in prison reform. I stepped
into the House of Representatives at Springfield,
last Thursday morning, ignorant of the order of the
day, and the first words that fell upon my ear were
from the lips of one of our honored college trustees,
pleading for prison reform. While self-protection
must continue to be the first law of society, the well-
being of the criminal class is destined to receive
greater attention.

We are entering on a new era in education, prim-
ary, intermediate and higher. The close of our half
century will see our worthier colleges comfortably
endowed for their beneficent work. Ere then our

124 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

leading universities will cease to blush in the pres-
ence of Cambridge, Oxford and Berlin.

The younger members of this audience will live to
see somewhat of order 'and beauty growing out of
the present chaotic relations of economics and
ethics. Theoretical and practical social science will
prove within fifty years, that commercial competi-
tion and Christian benevolence rightly understood
are not antagonistic laws. There can be no social
science worthy of the name that does not approach
the relations of men to one another, individually and
collectively, in the spirit of the New Testament. It
is well to discuss the subject through the papers, in
the reviews, on the platform and behind the pulpit.
Rays of light are welcome from all these sources.
But they, fail to move the vast majority of mankind.
The chief hope of social science for the next half
century lies in the line of home evangelization and,
especially, of city evangelization. Patriotism shud-
ders for the fate of the republic, in view of the
thickening dangers in our great centers of popula-
tion. Police stations and school-houses and up-town
churches, valuable though they be, are utterly inade-
quate defences. Alas for the nation, unless the
ignorant, barbarian, incontinent, fierce rum-ruled
hordes that are pouring in upon us, be speedily
brought under the power of the Gospel of Christ !
Impending peril is awakening the churches to a
sense of their responsibility. There is a vague feeling
that something must be done, and done quickly.
Noble efforts are made by individuals and by
churches. But you nowhere discover comprehensive
plans for steady, methodical, aggressive evangeliza-
tion. Yet I believe that out of all the confusion of

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 125

this new spiritual awakening among God's people,
there is to come upon the cities of America a more
wonderful evangelistic movement than swept through
the cities of Asia Minor in the days of the apostles.
The next half century will not see Boston and New
York and San Francisco and St. Louis and Chicago
Christianized, but it will see them Evangelized to the
salvation of the republic.

THIRD. Those of you who are here fifty years
hence will look out upon a WORLD, not Christianized,
but Evangelized. You have all seen in missionary
charts and magazines that black diagram, which shows
heathenism resting like a pall upon the vast majority
of mankind. There are some whom such a study
will arouse to fiery zeal to rescue the perishing. But
there are others in whom it may produce a sense of
depression and hopelessness, which will strike relig-
ious activity with paralysis. It is not well for such
to brood over the suggestions of that diagram. Take,
instead, an outline map of the planet; follow Bain-
bridge in his two years missionary tour around the
world; set a silver star at every mission station, and,
when you are done, hold your map where the sun
can shine upon it. Night does shroud the moral fir-
mament. Nevertheless, those same heavens declare
God's coming glory. On islands recently reeking
with orgies of cannibalism, Christ is King. Who
would have thought it possible a generation ago,
that we should see a Christian appointed minister of
finance, in the Turkish empire? What is the mean-
ing of a Christian college in Eden, where the race
learned its first lesson of good and evil? Is there no
inspiration in the sight of two thousand Sunday
school children marching through the streets of

126 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Lucknow, which not long ago witnessed the worst
horrors of the Sepoy rebellion ? Can we wonder, that
even the positivist, St. Hilaire, in his amazement at
the spread of Christianity, among the Hindoos, is
constrained to predict, that the whole population of
India will at length spontaneously embrace the relig-
ion of her English conqueror? Only the other month,
Christendom heard, with delight, the proclamation
of religious toleration throughout the Chinese em-
pire. There is no wildness in the prophecy of Dr.
Williams, that, at the present rate of progress, fifty
years will make China nominally Christian. That
will be to our children no greater marvel, than is to
you and me the fact, that, in the city on the Tiber,
within sight of the Vatican, more than a score of
spires rise toward YLezvenprotestant.

Five thousand missionaries thirty thousand native
helpers ministering to-day to half a million church
members and to two millions of adherents!!! If this
be the result, against the opposition of the world,
what may we not expect, now that obstacles are dis-
appearing, and the whole world grows clamorous for
the gospel? Missionary enterprise presses the steam-
boat and the locomotive into the service of the Most
High. The railroad train, which has already aroused
India from her long Nirvana dream, is impatient to
awake the Chinese empire from her sleep of ages.
The steamers that are multiplying on the water-ways
of Africa mean death to the slave-trade, as they carry
from the interior to the ocean loads of ivory hitherto
borne by captives to the sea-coast, and sold there
with the victims of the trader's accursed greed.

But God has nobler agencies than commerce can
bring into action. Men and women, with new eager-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 1 2*]

ness, obey His call. The girl in the seminary, the
boy in the college, the teacher in the academy and
the pastor in the metropolis, with the same enthu-
siasm, set their faces toward Japan. Within a year,
the dews of our own Mt. Hermon become a swelling
stream, which is flowing to gladden the very ends of
the earth. Our young men see new visions of a glo.iy
not of this world, and our old men dream new dreams
of thy coming kingdom, O God. While the thought
of the American college goes out to the realm of the
Mikado, the brain and brawn of the English univer-
sity are attracted to "the land of flowers." And is
there no over-ruling Providence in the fact, that the
China Inland Mission, the mission in special danger
of becoming the prey of fanaticism, should, at this
juncture of affairs, be strengthened by men universi-
ty-bred, so that zeal may be better tempered with
knowledge?

In harmony with this remarkable student move-
ment, is the still more wonderful woman movement
of our generation. While the religion of Christ
recognizes no distinction of sex for the life to come,
it is, in this world, of more vital importance to wo-
man than to man. Recognizing the fact, her heart
glows with ever increasing ardor for the regenera-
tion of the race. Without forgetting that her first
mission is at home, she realizes that she has also a
most important mission abroad. Man likewise, is
gradually forced to admit it, as he finds himself un-
able to gain access to the home life of Asia, while
woman daintily embroiders a slipper, which, in her
hand, becomes the "open sesame" to the zenanas of
India. Did not a female physician in the Methodist
mission bring back from the borders of the grave the

128 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

wife of. the grand viceroy, Hung Chang, and through
the influence thus obtained, save the Burlingame
treaty from impending defeat? Not Siddhartha, but
Woman, is "The Light of Asia."

We sometimes hear the lament that the days of
Christian heroism are past, that we shall see no more
Careys and Judsons, that the martyr spirit was buried
with the heart of Livingstone, in the heart of Africa.
Read the story of Father Damiens, the Apostle of
the lepers on the island of Molokai. The history of
the church does not contain a nobler example, than
the consecration of that young priest to the service
of those afflicted with a loathsome and incurable
malady, through the contagion of which he himself
dropping to pieces, little by little, day by day, has,
at last, fallen into a compassionate grave. Bishop
Hannington, of the church which is sometimes
taunted for retaining the form of Godliness without
the power thereof, died the death of the martyr, in
Africa, not many months ago. Since then fifty En-
glishmen have volunteered to reinforce his mission
there. "The blood of the martyrs is still the seed of
the church."

"But alas," says some one, "there is no money
movement to sustain all this new-born eagerness to
preach the gospel to every creature; and ardor will
presently grow cold, from lack of 'cash to balance.' "
Such apprehension is natural. Remember this, how-
ever; while, within the last eight years, the number
of ordained missionaries has increased fifty .per cent.,
contributions have increased seventy per cent.; and
depend upon it that this quickened flow of the heart
will be followed by a quickened flow of the currency.
We are entering upon a new era in the consecration

BA CO ALA UREA TE ADDRESS.

129

of money to the evangelization of the world. As
last Sunday, I put into the contribution plate for this
purpose my pittance, only sorry that it must be so
small, but glad that it might be something, I was
thrilled as never before by the thought of the rich
man's opportunity, of his possibilities of unbounded
joy, in the consecration of thousands and tens of
of thousands to this, the grandest enterprise of all
the ages, now hastening to its consummation. One-
third of the wealth of the United States is in the
hands of Christians. God's people are no longer
poor. The Master saith to his disciples, in a materi-
al, as well as in a spiritual sense: "Freely you have
received, freely .give." That command must be, will
be heard and obeyed.

I emphasize once more the sentiment of this
address: The world, not Christianized, but evangel-
ized } in half a century. In Oxford University, the pro-
fessor of Sanscrit, after the most exhaustive research,
testifies that Christianity to-day outranks every other
religion, in number of its adherents. Already, nearly
one-third of the population of the planet recognizes
the supremacy of the Redeemer. Who, now, are the
chosen of the Lord, to lead the way in publishing
the tidings of great joy throughout the earth?

France is making noble progress in the direction
of religious liberty; but by the time she has emanci-
pated herself from superstition and atheism, and
qualified herself to be the herald of righteousness,
the gospel will be preached to every creature.

Germany let slip the opportunity which came with-
in her reach through the reformation of the i6th
century. Rationalism is yielding rapidly to a rever
ent and aggressive faith, but the change has begun so

130

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

recently, that Germany, though she may bring up the
rear most solidly, cannot lead the van, during the
half century within which the world is to be evan-
gelized.

America and England, representing the Anglo-
Saxon race, are appointed of God, to be known in
history as the nations that planted the standard of
the cross throughout the realms of heathendom.
To-day three-fourths of all the missionary societies
are American and English. To-day two-thirds of
all the funds given to missions come from America
and England. Year by year the Anglo-Saxon con-
tributions, both of men and of money, grow, rela-
tively, larger and larger. This missionary mission is
the crowning glory of the Anglo-Saxon. No other
race has had so grand a religious opportunity. The
outlook is upon a world expectant of glad tidings.
The uplook reveals an open heaven and a risen Lord ;
the brightening prospects of whose kingdom are a
new inspiration to his people.

Said Mary Somerville: "The time has come when
I must go hence. I leave the world with only two
regrets. Would that I could wait till the sources of
the Nile are discovered by Livingstone! Would
that I could live to -see the distance between the
earth and the sun determined by the transit of
Venus!"

Akin to this scientific yearning, which would pen-
etrate the mysteries that hang over the dark regions
- of the earth, and would discover the secrets that are
hidden in the heavenly places where light abid-
eth, is the spiritual longing of many hearts here this
afternoon. Why cannot we who are older, as well
as ye who are younger, tarry a little longer, to be-

BA GO ALA UREA TE ADDRESS. 131

hold what ye shall behold fifty years hence; all the
benighted portions of the planet brought under the
direct influence of Him who is "The Light of the
World" Evangelized; and also to be Christianized,
in the fulness of time.

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class : Enter,
with rejoicing, this half century which is to fill out
your natural three score years and ten. Most fortu-
nate are they whose manhood is bounded by a
period destined to be so illustrious. The book that
I loved most in childhood was an old red-bound
volume which described the heroes of the American
revolution. As I thumbed those pages over and
over, it seemed to me that the world could never
again look upon achievements so noble, generals, so
patriotic, commander -in -chief so magnanimous.
Flow I used to lament that I had not lived just across
the century line so that I could have witnessed those
thrilling scenes, watched the principal actors therein,
studied the benignant face of Washington and joined
in the procession to Mount Vernon.

But the other week I went to Oak Ridge to see
the final arrangements within the monument. There
in the memorial chamber was the well-worn sur-
veyor's chain; there was the old compass, with the
needle pointing as it did when Lincoln ran the lines
only a few miles from where we stand, and straight-
way to imagination the muddy Sangamon became a
more historic stream than the Scamander of which
Homer loved to sing and next the eye caught the
blood-stains on the robe of Laura Keene, immortal-
ized by that awful tragedy and then across the field
of memory swept the vanished half century with its
moral agitations, its political revolutions, its mighty

132 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

march of inspiring ideas. And I said to myself, how
short sighted was the boy who used to look back-
ward and sigh that he could not have lived when the
thirteen colonies published the Declaration and
fought their way to Independence ! It is better to
have been a witness of the Re-generation. Bunker
Hill and Trenton and Yorktown are less than Shiloh
and Gettysburg and Richmond. Shall one be con-
sumed with regret that he never saw the faces of
Warren and Greene and LaFayette, after he has
heard the voices of Grant and Sherman and Sheri-
dan ?

You also, my friends, have often said to yourselves,
impatiently, why could not we have come to our
manhood a generation ago? Why could not we have
had some part in those grand affairs? Why need
we be confined to these plodding, uneventful years?
Believe me, yours is a still more exalted privilege.
You are to see the world evangelized. Mount Vernon
tells of a nation born. Oak Ridge is eloquent of a
republic saved. But Gethsemane's cry is possible
redemption for all mankind. And the half century
which stretches out before you is the half century
chosen ,of Jehovah for the proclamation of salvation
to every race and people and tribe under the whole
heaven.

And now, as we bid you an affectionate farewell,
here upon the threshold of the untried, we solemnly
charge you to heed the high calling of your half
century. Choose that vocation in which you can do
most for the coming of the kingdom, and be hap-
piest in the King's jubilee.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1888.

"And the house, when it was in building, was built of stone
made ready before it was brought thither; so that there was
neither hammer, nor ax, nor any tool of iron, heard in the house
when it was in building." I Kings vi: 7.

In the first struggling dawn of a winter morning,
I was approaching the city of Washington. Drawing
aside a curtain of the palace car, I saw in the distance,
as if it were let down from heaven, what looked like
a great globe, spectral-white. I studied it a moment
in wonder, and then the thought flashed upon me that
the seeming apparition was the lofty dome of the
national capitol. The pulse quickened and the breath
came faster, as the eye rested upon that silent emblem
of the majesty of the republic. I realized the emo-
tion of the moslem pilgrim, when Mecca breaks in
view, and he exclaims in awe: "Allah Akbar!" "G'cd
is great!" I sympathized with the devout Catholic,
when he looks for the first time upon the dome of
St. Peter. I understood, as never before, what must
have been the feeling of the Jew, when he went up
to the metropolis and gazed upon that temple, built
without sound of ax, or hammer, or tool of iron, a
voiceless witness to the blessedness of that nation
whose ruler is Jehovah.

The completion of that structure was the crown-
ing glory of the reign of Solomon. There is no
more significant object lesson in history. The plan
was unique in conception and in execution. The
edifice rose before the world, a most impressive visi-

134 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ble manifestation of the doctrine, that the Omnipo-
tent chooseth secrecy and stillness for the accom-
plishment of his designs. It said to the eye under
the old dispensation, what Jesus said to the ear under
the new dispensation: "The Kingdom of God com-
eth not with observation." The rising of one stone
upon another, without the sound of ax, or hammer,
or tool of iron, was like the growing of the mustard
seed, and the working of the hidden leaven. You
cannot find a happier illustration of the unity of
purpose between the Old Testament and the New.

And when you close this volume of written Reve-
lation, you may discover the same doctrine in nature
and in life.

The generation is mechanical. Wheels and cogs
and iron bands preach their gospel with ceaseless
clatter, rattle and clang. It is a genuine gospel.
God forbid that we should decry the source of bless-
ings manifold unto mankind. Dynamite and ex-
plosives of every description have their mission of
beneficence. Worthless to the world is the recluse,
who betakes himself to the solitudes, affrighted by
the din and uproar inseparable from modern civiliza-
tion.

Still the times do not demand an increase of the
apostles of these noisy self-asserting agencies.
There will always be sufficient Popular Science
monthlies and Scientific Americans to crowd such
instrumentalities to the front. But we are in danger
of underrating those forces and activities which
operate, invisibly and inaudibly. The passing parox-
ysm of the volcano and the earthquake, so engross
our thought, that we heed not those far greater
wonders of the planet, the quiet deposition of the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 135

strata, in progress for untold ages, and the gradual
preparation of the earth to become the home of
ever-advancing types of life. The shriek of the
steam whistle, and the revolution of the driving-wheel
absorb the attention of the multitude, who never
reflect upon the whirling of the nebulae, and the
secret of the noisy, obtrusive spectacle, in the burial
of the sun's light, heat and motive power, in the coal
measures of the carboniferous era.

The cry of fire is heard. The engine thunders
along the street. The hose is adjusted, and, pres-
ently, a stream of water is driven to the topmost
story of the burning, building. As the raging flames
give way, you look with loving admiration upon
the panting fire-king, and rightly exclaim, wonder-
ful, wonderful power ! Go out into the forest some
calm summer day. The foliage is motionless. The
stillness is oppressive. But, all around, innumerable
force-pumps are driving the water up from its reser-
voirs, through trunks, and limbs, and leaves. Com-
pared with this silent agency, how insignificant is the
power displayed by that noisy engine! The latter
quenches what is destroying one of the perishing
structures of man. The former sustains the forest,
that casts upon the earth, as~~it were, the very shadow
of God.

From Alpine height, a ponderous boulder comes
crashing down, to smite the glittering face of Swit-
zerland's icy wonder, Mer De Glace. What cares the
glacier? With leisurely contempt, it bears the monster
on, to cast it off at the foot of the moraine. But that
huge thing, in its first descent, frightens a pebble
from its resting place, and drives it out upon that
solid, shining river. And the pebble grows warm

136 SERMONS AND ADDEESSES.

from solar heat, and slowly settles beneath the sur-
face; and rills of water come, and set it grinding
there; and that pocket is worn larger and deeper;,
and, by and by, that tiny stone finds its way down
to the very heart of the glacier.

Long years ago, a friend and I were spending a
short vacation among the Coast Mountains. On Sat-
urday, we reached Astoria, a town rendered historic
by the enterprise of John Jacob Astor and by the pen
of Washington Irving. The village is situated near
the mouth of the Columbia, which, because of its
wrathful waters, was called, by Theodore Winthrop,
the "Achilles of Rivers." The stream is there seven
miles in width. Across it extends a line of breakers,
the dread of mariners. Upon that reef many gallant
ships have been broken in pieces. There are but
two narrow channels through which vessels may pass
in safety. On the morning after our arrival, as we
were not presentable for church, we went below the
town to spend the hours alone. The shore was
sloping, like the beach of the sea. Throwing our
blankets down, and ourselves upon them, we
turned our faces ocean-ward. As the current of
the river swept west-ward, it struck upon that rocky
barrier, and the water was dashed backward and up-
ward, fifty, sixty feet. Then as the waves came
rolling in from the Pacific, and threw themselves
upon that defiant reef, they were hurled back-
ward seventy-five, a hundred feet. We watched the
sight awhile, in wondering silence, and then found
ourselves talking naturally of forces material and
forces spiritual, of political convulsions and of those
who had figured in them; of moral revolutions and of
the actors therein, our faces, all the time turned ocean-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 137

ward. Meanwhile, slowly up that shelving shore,
the silent tide was stealing. At last it touched our
feet. That was the first intimation of its coming.
In the rear there was a slight depression, and along
that hollow path the noiseless water was creeping.
The place where we are lying will soon become an
island; the island will grow smaller and smaller;
presently there will be no island. Ah! said we both,
as we retreated to a higher station, the power is not
all down there among those roaring breakers. Here
is a mightier force in this voiceless tide. That bat-
tle of the elements can be seen and heard only a
little distance. But here is an influence that is felt
away up the river yonder, farther than eye can pene-
trate, or ear catch the sound.

The lesson is the same when you turn from physi-
cal phenomena to study the progress of civilization-
What is the true philosophy of history? The ques-
tion is usually answered in one of two ways. Ma-
caulay and Carlyle are the best representatives of
those who offer one explanation; Knight and Mc-
Master are the best representatives of those who
present the other. Macaulay selects brilliant epochs
and striking characters, paints them with all the
splendors of his marvelous imagination; and declares
that such are the agencies which have decided the
destinies of the race. Carlyle, caring less for rhetoric
and stage effect, with extravagant ruggedness, exalts
gigantic prowess, whether it be like that of a Samson
or of a Frederick the Great, proclaiming that men
like these rule their own generation, and lay down
the law which governs the generation following.
Macaulay and Carlyle are in substantial accord, inas-
much as they seek to trace the general course of

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

events to the few who have been conspicuous actors
in the drama of the ages. On the other side, Knight
and McMaster, while acknowledging the influence
of those who have thus stood in the foreground of
affairs, stoutly maintain that such men, though seem-
ingly autocratic in swaying events, are really thrust
into position, and held there by forces which proceed
from the people.

These two conflicting views give the world two
different kinds of histories. Contrast Macaulay's
History of England and Knight's History of the
English People, the materials selected by a Carlyle
and the materials selected by a McMaster.

Is either philosophy of civilization complete in
itself, and exclusive of the other? One certainly
makes a more fascinating story than the other. The
first invokes sentiment and romance. The second
suggests no genius, except the genius of the com-
monplace and the homely. Either needs the other.

This is the true statement of the case. The farther
you go back into antiquity, the greater is the power
of a few individuals, remarkable, either for physical
or mental, endowments. With every added century,
the importance of such individuals diminishes, and
the importance of the multitude increases. The first
principle would naturally govern in writing the annals
of the Roman republic, the second in writing the
annals of the American republic. The history of
antiquity is substantially the history of the few. It
will remain so. The history of the future will be
substantially the history of the many. In olden
times, the man made the era. Now the era makes
the man. There is no reason to believe that in the
days of Alexander forces were in operation which

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 139

would then have produced the same results, if he
had been strangled in his cradle. It is not likely
that there were many other cradles in which were
lying possible Alexanders, some one of whom would
have had Alexander's illustrious career, had he come
to an untimely end. But, had that plot succeeded,
which was formed to destroy Abraham Lincoln, on.
his way to Washington for inauguration, though the
course of events would have been retarded some-
what, there would have appeared another, compe-
tent to work out the same political problem. General
Grant once put the idea very tersely, at a banquet
given in his honor. Said he, " I must dissent from
the remark that I saved the country, during the
recent war. If our country could be either saved
or ruined by any one man, we should not have a
country, and we should not be celebrating the Fourth
of July. If I had never held command, if I had
fallen, if all our generals had fallen, there were ten
thousand behind us who would have done the work
just as well."

To utter such sentiments does not belittle bene-
factors, does not aim a blow at hero-worship. It
simply sets in bold relief the fact, that still mightier
than the force which startles the world with grand
display, is the hidden principle, noiselessly gather-
ing its stores of power, till it must have expression,
and then compelling the ready herald to arise and
utter the proclamation, and the waiting chieftain, to
enforce the message, with all the pomp and circum-
stance and horror of war. It is not denied that the
representative men of modern epochs even, have a
mighty reflex influence upon their times. Their
freedom and moulding agency in the revolutions

140 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

which take place, are fully acknowledged, still the
fact remains, that they are greater debtors to the
movements of the period, than are the movements
of the period to them. It is sufficient honor for
any man, to catch the preference of his generation,
adapt himself to it, divine its tendency, and have
a noble part in shaping that tendency to ends most
beneficent. Ill does it become such a one to mag-
nify effects, and the importance of his own imme-
diate agency, and thus seek not the great underlying
ultimate causes, without which he would remain un-
known.

The same principle finds illustration in the building
of institutions of learning. They rise, like Solomon's
temple without sound of ax, or hammer, or tool of
iron. There are exceptions, like the proposed Stanford
University in California, but they are so few that they
only prove the rule. Palaces of trade and chambers
of commerce are noisy in construction and obtrusive
in their work. This is not said, as a ground of re-
proach. They thus best subserve the ends of their ex-
istence. Everything should be "after its kind." There
is a prevailing law of life in agencies, human and di-
vine. It is unwise to try to crowd one type into con-
formity with another. By favoring the freest develop-
ment of each, we contribute most to the well-being of
the world. The sound of hammer and ax and tool of
iron in manufactories and rolling mills is presumptive'
evidence of their prosperity. Silence, there, means
bankruptcy to the capitalist and starvation to the
laborer. A furnace in blast gladdens the heart, for
it speaks of productive consumption. It chills, like
walking through a graveyard, to travel through a
manufacturing region where the fires are drawn and

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

the smoke-stacks stand black and breathless. A full
anvil chorus is the only music in harmony with the
surroundings. Furthermore, let us not indulge in
the common folly of trying to put a rolling mill
into one end of the scale and a college into the other,
to ascertain their comparative value to the world.
The two are different in kind, and they must be
measured by different standards. Instead of engag-
ing in an endless and profitless debate, respecting
their relative importance, why not, at once, acknowl-
edge their discrete nature and rejoice in the blessings
which both confer. Give us the tongs of Vulcan, but
bring also the harp of Apollo, The human race needs
both for its comfort and gladness. Neither should be
degraded for the exaltation of the other. Let each
have its clay of celebration.

We, therefore, urge, this afternoon, the thought
that tests which are appropriate, in the realm of
mechanical industries shall not be applied in the
province of ideas. It is in that province, that insti-
tutions of learning have their genesis and growth.
The secret of their origin is buried in the heart of
faith and hope and consecration. The precious
things for their building .are brought from many
sources and from long distances. The process is
slow and wearisome. There are self-denials which
make no showy parade. Prayer and toil and precious
life are invested in the structure, as the conception
takes form and proportion,without the sound of ham-
mer, or ax, or tool of iron. Single years attract no
special notice. The growth is like the coral growth
beneath the surface of the world's clamorous affairs.
But the noiseless accretions fail not. From time to
time, quiet hands bring and place there another stone,

142 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the base broadens and the height increases, men
scarcely know how. Other structures rise with loud
acclaim, to crumble slowly into ruin, or to fall with
sudden, deafening crash; but these abide from gen-
eration to generation.

Till within a half century, how little was there at
Harvard to arrest the attention of those who judge
only from the tangible and the startling! Go back of
the recent period of ambitious display. How little
does the world know of those two centuries of un-
obtrusive benevolence, when widows' mites and
mothers' prayers, and laymen's contributions, and
ministerial faithfulness, and teachers' poorly paid
toil, were establishing massive foundations for the
proudest and the most enduring structure between
the two oceans! The echoes from Plymouth Rock
and Bunker Hill may become fainter and fainter
with successive centennials, but the voice of " Fair
Harvard" will grow stronger, sweeter, more persuas-
ive, till time shall be no longer.

A single seed planted in the soil of Massachusetts,
like the Psalmist's handful of corn on the top of the
mountain, bringing forth after its kind, taketh posses-
sion of every state and territory of the republic.

Moreover, while the edification of our colleges
goes on without sound of ax, or hammer, or tool of
iron, and while the standards for estimating their
value do not primarily appeal to the senses, their
influence is all-pervasive in whatever concerns the
spread of material civilization. They foster, as does
no other agency, the spirit of patient research, which
insures scientific discovery and mechanical invention.
They quicken the thought, which gives impulse to
progress in agriculture, manufactures and commerce.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 143

They inquire into the secrets of political and social
problems, and quietly mediate between the antag-
onisms of men who are blinded by prejudice and
selfishness. But their chief benefaction to the world
lies in the moulding of individual character, the de-
velopment of which is like their own, unobtrusive,
yet excellent and, in its influence, wide-spread and
abiding.

Edification in mental and moral power should be
the governing idea in the life of every human being.
The temple of Solomon is the type of the process
and the product. Forget not the long years of pre-
paration, before there was aught to attract the atten-
tion of Jerusalem. Unknown workmen who never
appeared upon the streets of the capital, were get-
ting ready the stones in the quarries of Lebanon,
and searching for the noblest cedars in the distant
forests of the mountain of the Lord. The' ships of
Tyre, withdrawn from their secular mission, were
spreading their white wings up and down the Medi-
terranean, in the secret service of Jehovah. Thus,
like the wise king, does the wise man always labori-
ously and patiently gather from afar the materials
which are at length to fit into their appropriate places
in the structure which shall rise acceptable unto God.
Faith finds here her sphere for perfect work. We
cannot see the uses of these preliminary mental and
moral disciplines. Imagination refuses to take each
block and beam at which we hew so wearily, and set
it solid and fair in an inspiring picture of the future
temple of the soul. But the divine architect has
drawn for us, individually, a plan well-pleasing to
himself. He would superintend its realization. Un-
der his direction, no honest work, though it be done

L44 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

in the loneliest solitudes of life, which seem so profit-
less, shall fail to contribute somewhat, in the full-
ness of time, toward the building of that structure,
which shall rise, without sound of hammer, or ax, or
tool of iron, and which the God of Israel shall honor
as his dwelling-place.

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class: This is
an hour of inspection, an inspection of foundations.
At graduation, the structure has risen no higher than
the basement story. To many there would be more
satisfaction in the examination of a completed
edifice. But you have noticed that there are not a
few, who take special delight in visiting any locality
where a cellar is newly dug and the masonry begins
to show above the surface. Imagination is highly
gratified by using the suggestions of the ground
work, to divine the builder's purpose, and in vision
to anticipate the super-structure. Even the little
that has .been done says distinctly, either cottage, or
mansion, or temple; whereupon appears some picture,
with its prophecies of homely happiness, or of lavish
display, or of inspiring worship.

So now to you is directed the eager attention of
this sympathetic audience. All are inquiring what
sort of foundations have these youth been laying and
what are they going to build. Within the next
thirty days, you will hear the annual Jeremiad over
the worthlessness of a college education, and over
another host of young men turned out upon a world,
in which they are utterly incompetent to master the
situation.

There are probably present a few who are looking
on with a mixture of contempt for what they have
been doing the last four years, and of pity for you, as

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 145

a fresh group of Innocents Abroad during the four
years to come.

But very different is the prevailing sentiment.

Upon the countenances of instructors may be
read approbation, congratulation and expectation.

The speaker, after the most satisfactory and de-
lightful year of his life as a teacher, utters only
words of benediction.

Yonder is a father who has occasionally seemed to
you rather old-fashioned in some of his notions, you
have been amazed that he should not always realize
how much larger the allowance ought to be for the
collegian of to-day than it was for the student of the
last generation. Now and then, it has been hard to
bear his incredulity about some of your statements,
his independence concerning your opinions and his
utter forgetfulness of what was due to Senior dignity.
Nevertheless, he is this moment saying to himself,
though he would not say it to you, that the invest-
ment is a good one, that the boy has made a hopeful
beginning, that the fellow is growing manly, and, in
fact, that the son bids fair to be a great improvement
on the sire.

There is a mother pondering these things in her
heart. She has always been doing a thousand
services which you could not have got done for
money, and which no other love would have thought
of. You have taken then as matters of course, with
scant appreciation. Sometimes you have chafed
under her anxious watchfulness, and vented your
vexation in words which you would not have uttered
to your father. But she has forgotten it all this
afternoon, and in her thought the past is sweet with

146 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

i

cradle song, 'the present lights up with pride, and
the future glows with anticipation.

How big you look to the small boy in the family!
And you will increase in magnitude till the complete
transfiguration of commencement morning.

And not far distant is the sister. Because she was
only your sister, you have failed to be gallant, now
and then, yet, as she looks this way, her face ex-
presses nothing but radiant faith in what you are to
do and to be.

There, too, sits the sister of somebody else. She
has never had occasion to suppose that a petulant
word could fall from your lips, or a discourtesy mar
your demeanor. She discovers no defect in the
. foundation. God make your hands clean and your
heart pure, that you may be worthy of the inspira-
tion, and build according to the fairness of the
vision!

And while you listen to that voice bidding you
build for home, harken, also, to the united voice of
this great congregation, calling upon you to build
for society, and commonwealth, and republic.

And, if there be one of your number, who, till this
day, has neglected to lay the corner-stone of Chris-
tian faith, let him now, in this sacred stillness, with-
out sound of hammer, or ax, or tool of iron, bring
into place that head of the corner, without which
there can be no building for eternity.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1889.

THE COLLEGE AS A COMMERCIAL, CIVILIZING AND CHRIS-
TIANIZING INVESTMENT.

Cotton Mather declared that the best thought
which New England had ever had, was the Christian
college. He made the assertion, in view of the ser-
vices rendered church and state by the institution in
question. But the claim would be valid on financial
grounds also. No other property of the same
amount has been worth so much in dollars and cents .
to Cambridge and the neighboring city of Boston as
what is invested in Harvard. No other lines of busi-
ness, with equal capital, have contributed to the
wealth of New Haven as has the business carried on
by the Yale corporation. A million dollars in fer-
tilizers would not have given the Berkshire hills the
real estate value imparted by Williams. In other
parts of Massachusetts you ride for miles asking
what is this region good for, till suddenly Amherst
breaks upon the view, and you see what has made
the railroad on which you have come. For its size,
the richest plant in the city of Beloit is the plant of
Beloit college. When men of strong faith knelt in
the snow and dedicated to God the Wabash college
that was to be, it meant a shower of gold for the
Crawfordsville of the future. Financially it would
be a less disastrous thing for Jacksonville to have
her ten wealthiest men go into bankruptcy than to
see Illinois College extinguished. What would prop-

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

erty be worth to-day in Grinnell had the cyclone
blotted Iowa College out forever? Solely on a com-
mercial basis, dollar for dollar, the Christian college
is the best thing ever thought of, east or west.

And what is true for "town" is true for "gown."
A college may fit a man to live, but it unfits him to
make a living. He who would thrive in business
has no business in any college except a business col-
lege. Such is the creed of the world, the flesh and
the other party. Study the annals of the pulpit.
The ministers who draw the largest salaries in the
largest cities are college-bred men. No others need
candidate. This church would never think of wel-
coming to its pastorate one who has not taken a de-
-gree at some reputable institute of liberal learning.
In the country towns, also, this question affects both
the call and the compensation. There is not in the
house a college-bred minister who does not know
that the training received at his alma mater has put
more money into his pocket than he could have got
in the ministry without that training. There is not
in the house a minister deprived of such early ad-
vantages who does not feel keenly that the fact of
the deprivation has always lowered his wages.

. Other things being equal, the college puts more
money into the pockets of the lawyer, big or little.
Other things being equal, the college puts more
money into the pockets of the physician, great or
small. Such statements respecting the three learned
professions will meet little opposition. But enter
the province of politics, which borders upon the
province of law. The facts fall less under common
observation, and the brilliant career of some Henry
Clay often blinds the multitude to the truth in dis-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 149

pute. But. read any history of England, written by
whig or tory, radical or conservative, and you must
acknowledge that the forces which have swayed the
islands and the continents, have issued from the uni-
versities rather than from the people or the throne.
If, however, this is not conclusive, because few ex-
cept university men have enjoyed those splendid op-
portunities, study the subject in the light of Ameri-
can democracy. I need not recite the well-known
facts concerning representatives, and senators, and
judges, and governors, and presidents. They sub-
stantiate the assertion of Dr. Crafts, that the colleg-
ian has seven hundred and fifty times as many
chances of political eminence as any other man.
Still, as germane to the strictly financial view of the
theme, remember that all the secretaries of the treas-
ury for the first twenty-five years of our, national
life were college-bred; and that the same may be
said of two-thirds of the secretaries of the treasury
from the beginning until now. Salmon P. Chase,
who filled that office so nobly during the darkest
days of the rebellion, was a graduate of Dartmouth.
When you turn from the high places at Washing-
ton you confront the same fact in studying the great
enterprises which have multiplied the wealth of the
country a thousand fold. The prophetic spirit and
the liberal hand of Chancellor Livingston, an alum-
nus of Columbia, gave Fulton the courage and the
money to launch the steamboat on the Hudson.
DeWitt Clinton, a graduate of the same institution,
thought out for New York her first great system of
internal improvements, and gladdened the republic
by "wedding the lakes and the ocean." Morse
brought with his diploma from Yale the quickened

150 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

brain which electrified the continent with the tele-
graph. In a recent New Englander, Rev. S. H. Lee
makes the happy hit that Charles Francis Adams'
not only does not find the ancient fetich fatal to his
own hold upon a Pacific railroad, but slyly slips into
the best positions on the line the sons of that alma
mater so roundly berated the other year. In a con-
versation of railroad magnates not many months
ago, when search was made for the man who com-
bined the most remarkable capacity for details and
the most wonderful mastery of principles, the choice

fell upon Aldace F. Walker, a graduate of Middle-
bury, now honored as the chairman of the inter-state
railway association.

It is well-known in literary circles that within a
quarter of a century, college men have become the
managers of almost all of the leading publishing
houses in America. Twenty years ago it was ex-
ceedingly difficult for a collegian to obtain a position
upon a metropolitan journal. I am told that a
favorite decoration upon the walls of more than one
editorial sanctum, was the picture of a college
sheepskin with a donkey's head protruding, and the
degree of A. M. expanded into Asinus Major. But
mark the change. I learn, by personal inquiry, that
in 1872, on the business, editorial and reportorial
staff of a leading secular paper in Chicago only two
college men were employed, but that the number
has been steadily increasing till now ten such men
are employed. My informant states that this case
is representative, that the same process has been
going on in the other great dailies, and that it is safe
to say, that the same proportion of college men have
prominent places on the six most influential secular

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. I$I

journals in the metropolis. What is true in Chicago
must be true in the other principal centers of popu-
lation. The colleges are pushing toward, the front
in the editorial profession.

Follow the inquiry into lines of business seemingly
more remote from the higher learning. Cyrus Mc-
Cormick, Sr., would not have given his son a liberal
education had he supposed that it would spoil that
son for a partnership with himself. And is not
Cyrus McCormick, Jr., able to handle as many ma-
chines as did his father? J. V. Farwell, Sr., took
the same sort of risk with his boy. J. V. Farwell,
Jr., is proving himself abundantly competent to oc-
cupy the place of his sire when the latter shall be
called up higher.

Turn to the Yale catalogue for 1862 and you will
see in the .graduating class the name of Franklin
MacVeagh, the great wholesale grocer of Chicago.
Though he enjoys writing articles which the maga-
zines are glad to publish, and though you might sup-
pose that his literary sense would have destroyed his
taste for syrups and sugars, and that his college dis-
cipline would have loosened his grip on tea chests
and cargoes of coffee, go down to the corner of
Lake and Wabash Avenue for enlightenment on the
question.

Ask E. W. Blatchford, whether he would have
made more money, or less money, in funning oil mills
and shot towers, if he had employed in some other
way the four years spent at Illinois College. In
Denver, only the other day, a friend informed me
that he heard from N. S. Bouton, one of the fore-
most iron and steel manufacturers of the interior,
the statement that college-bred men were taking the

152 SERMONS AND ADDBESSES.

lead of all others in the scientific manipulation of
iron and steel. One of my own college professors
is just now employed by a St. Louis syndicate as the
chemist in perfecting a product which bids fair to
supplant the Bessemer.

Did time permit, these illustrations might be
gladly multiplied, but this portion of the discussion
must be brought to a close, and I content myself
with quoting a recent letter from Charles A. Pills-
bury, the senior partner in the great firm of Minne-
apolis millers: " In answer to 'your favor, I would
say that I have had several college graduates in my
office. In every case they have given splendid sat-
isfaction, as they learn the details much more rap-
idly, and seem to take hold of the principles of
business in a more business-like manner. In every
instance that I can think of, the college graduates
in our employ have either been promoted to the
heads of their departments, or have gone into busi-
ness for themselves. I think a man with a good
college education and a few years discipline in a
well-regulated business office, is as well fitted for
business life as it is possible for a man to be." Here,
then, I rest the contention in favor of college
training, as a rich money investment for every vo-
cation in which the brain is supreme over brawn.

Next consider the college as a civilizing invest-
ment. It was s*hown in the beginning that institu-
tions of higher learning create and sustain com-
mercial values in the localities where they are
planted.

But this is not their chief recommendation to those
who estimate riches aright. If nothing more could
be said for them the plea now made would ill-become

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 153

this presence. Colleges, while promotive.of wealth,
temper the merely mercantile spirit, and prevent it
from becoming a curse within the circle where their
influence is felt. They rebuke the greed of gain for
its own sake, and teach the legitimate uses of money.
In this division of the theme no reference is made
to the demands of religion. Attention is confined
to the province of social science. For the time we
are interested in nothing but the most excellent
worldly citizenship. In a strictly earthly sense
there is nothing finer than a certain charm, better
felt than described, about an old college town. You
get suggestions of it in the vicinity of some of the
better institutions of the interior. But in its per-
fection it is the product of generations and centuries.

Transport a man from the prairies to the neighbor-
hood of an institution which counts its years by the
hundred and he will at first rebel against a certain
donnishness, snobbishness and priggishness which
he encounters at every turn. But, let him remain a
few days and he. will discover, beneath, these surface
eruptions, a quality of life which .he would gladly
take back to his western home, but which he finds
that he cannot separate from its surroundings, and
that he could not transport and naturalize, if separ-
able. , This quality can never ,be either exported or
imported. It has to -be home-made. The agencies
which produce it are always local. They issue from
college centers. They.are felt inversely as the square
of the distance. And, though you never know how
far they reach, they make a vivid impression only
within narrow bounds.

In a democracy there is an irrepressible conflict
between coarse quantity and fine quality. The for-

154 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

mer has immense advantages in the struggle. The
chief hope of the latter lies in the multiplication of
institutions of higher learning and their general dis-
tribution throughout the country. A few universities
will not suffice. A few universities, with multitudes
of colleges clustered around them at the great cen-
ters of population, will not suffice. The question is
not now raised whether the individuals who resort
to such institutions would or would not receive the
education best adapted to their personal wants. Re-
member that we are at present considering the gene-
ral influence of a college upon its environment. The
centralization of educational forces in a republic can-
not produce the highest civilization in a republic.
Local contact between institution and people is in-
dispensable. Fifty years ago the planting of western
colleges was chiefly urged on the ground that young
men on the frontier could not obtain an education at
the east, because of distance, time and expense, but
many now suppose that express trains have so
reduced distance, time and expense, that the main
argument has lost its weight, and the principal rea-
son for the existence of fresh water colleges has had
its day. But the great argument for the vigorous
support of country colleges throughout the country
grows more and more impressive with the carving
out of every new territory and the admission of
every new state.

Said Henry Ward Beecher: "I plead for colleges
as the shortest way of pleading for the people."
That colleges may most abundantly bless the people,
they must have closest neighborhood to the people.
Leaven works through contact. I would not under-
rate the mighty influence of primary and secondary

BACCALAUREATE ADDBESS. 155

education. Let our colleges heartily co-operate with
the state superintendent of public instruction in his
untiring efforts to dignify the district schools and
the high schools of the common-wealth. The bet-
ter they are the better will it be for liberal learning..
The cause is one. At the same time I venture the
assertion that there is not a man in the house who>
would subscribe more heartily than Dr. Edwards,
himself to this emphatic declaration by Charles.
Eliot Norton: "If our civilization is to be prevented
from degenerating into a glittering barbarism of im-
measurable vulgarity and essential feebleness; if our
material prosperity is to become but the symbol and
source of mental energy and moral excellence, it is
by the support, the increase and the steady improve-
ment of the institutions devoted to the highest edu-
cation of youth."

Though these agencies are unobtrusive in their
ordinary operations, they assert themselves with
tremendous power in the crises of history. Lord
Cornwallis declared that the American revolution
would not have broken out till half a century later
but for Harvard. Moreover, college men fought as
they thought and thought as they fought in the war
for independence. So was it in the rebellion. Our
own war governor was the first graduate of our
oldest college. One of Dr. Theron Baldwin's most
brilliant reports showed how the splendid achieve-
ments of the gallant fellows who east and west for-
sook their classes for the battlefield, won the ad-
miration of the country and poured seven millions
of dollars into the treasuries of deserted institutions
from 1 86 1 to 1866.

Listen to similar testimony from a traveler in the

156 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

old world: "Robert College is the finest building on
the shore of the Hellespont. Thither resort the
young men of the first families of the east. They
are of nine different languages, and of nine different
religions. The result is that the administration of
the east is coming largely into the hands of the men
who have been trained in the college. ' '

You would have had no successful revolution in
Bulgaria but for the presence of these men. Indeed,
an authority whom every one would respect, has
said that, powerful as England is in Turkey, from
the strength of her navy, and from the successful
diplomacy of Lord Stratford de Redclyff; powerful
as France is from the ingenuity of her diplomacy
and the traditional respect which the Sultan's gov-
ernment has for the French; powerful as Austria is,
from her contiguity and her rights on the Danube;
powerful as Russia is because she has a policy which
she will hold to generation after generation, yet the
United States of America has more power in Turkey
to-day than any one of these four great nations.
And the United States owes that power almost
wholly to the work of the young men "up and down
through the east, who have 'been under the influence
of Robert College." "

Concerning teachers thus engaged, hearken to the
quaint utterances of Lord Bacon: "Their love of
learning is not natural curiosity, nor inquisitive ap-
petite, nor for entertainment and delight, nor for
ornament and reputation; not for victory of wit, not
for lucre, not as a couch of rest, not as a terrace for
prospect, not as a tower of pride, not as a fort for
command, not as a shop for profit; but to give a true
account of the gift of reason to the benefit and use

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. !$*]

of man, and to erect a rich storehouse for the glory
of the Creator and the relief of man's estate."

There are in our higher institutions of every grade,
sixty thousand youth. There are within our borders
sixty millions of people. Sixty thousand to sixty
million. One to a thousand. Gentlemen, in the ad-
vance of American civilization, the one leads the
thousand.

In the third place, consider the college as a Chris-
tianizing investment. The three r's of the curriculum
are reason, righteousness and revelation. The high
places of the curriculum, are not only the Aventine
and the Areopagus, but also Sinai and the .Mount of
Beatitudes. . - : .

The sixty thousand youth are not only the hope
of the republic, but also the hope. of the kingdom.
We often lament the fact that the colleges are send-
ing into the ministry a smaller proportion of their
students than at an earlier day. That fact is deplor-
able. But it does not warrant the conclusion that
the .institutions are abandoning the faith. Never
before have they contained so large a percentage of
religious students. Never before have the latter
maintained Christian associations so vigorous.

When we are distressed over the shortage in pulpit
supply, we may find no little comfort in the thought
that, if the colleges have lost relatively as a min-
isterial agency, they have gained relatively as a gen-
eral Christian agency. Formerly the ministry was
the manifest destiny of the religious student. Lat-
terly he recognizes no such law of moral compulsion.
The conservation of forces prevails in the spiritual
as well as in the natural world. What flowed in one
strong current may diffuse itself and in lesser streams

158 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

reach the same destination. Subtraction from a
single profession means additions to other vocations.
Christian life in college for quantity and quality is
superior to that of other generations. The picked
youth of the nation are congregated within these in-
stitutions. And the selection is moral selection.

Statistics show that of the seven millions of young
men in this country only five per cent, are church
members. But of the sixty thousand pupils in these
institutions from thirty-five to fifty per. cent, are
church members. The percentage of church mem-
bers in the families of the republic is twenty. The
percentage of church members in the colleges of the
republic is more than forty. The boy is far safer in
the average college than he is in the average home.
He has more religious associates. He is brought
under more religious influences constant and special.
The chances are greater that he will retain his integ-
rity, if upright, and that he will be converted, if a
sinner.

In addition to the action of youth upon youth
should be mentioned the relation of teacher to pupil.
We live in an age of specialties. College faculties
are not composed so largely of ministers, as in earlier
times. Many conclude that the professor's influence
has lost much of its spirituality. This does not fol-
low. The specialist makes a stronger instructor than
would the clergyman in most departments, and he is
not, as a rule, less earnest in his religious life. The
only difference is that he is not so likely to magnify
the ministerial profession before his classes. I have
no doubt that the theological seminaries are suffering,
to some extent, from the fact that the specialists are
crowding the ministers out of the college faculties.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 159

On this score, but not on the score of general relig-
ious influence, do I lament the change.

Again, the curriculum itself is eloquent for God
and Christ. This may not be evident in the earlier
stages of the linguistic, scientific and mathematical
discipline. But all such wearisome culture comes to
rich fruitage in the later years. Our farmers some-
times assert that they can literally see and hear the
corn grow, as it thrusts out the ear and pushes up
the tassel. No less wonderful and delightful is it to
watch the sudden expansion of the intellect and the
transfiguration of the moral faculties as the youth
pursues the last quarter of his course. The studies
of the senior year are as profoundly religious as any
in the technical school of the prophets. The views
thus gained for the first time concerning matter and
mind and spirit and Creator and Redeemer are the
noblest preparation for Christian citizenship.

But while it is scarcely possible to over estimate
the religious influence which the colleges exert upon
the world by sending into all vocations those whom
they have trained to love truth and righteousness,
there is no other one way in which they manifest
their Christianizing power so nobly as in the prepar-
ation of candidates for the theological seminaries.
Without a liberally educated ministry, the church
cannot maintain her supremacy over mankind. Let
there be no attack upon Salvation Armies. Cast no
contempt upon any genuine evangelistic movement.
Bid Mr. Moody and others God-speed in their
efforts to prepare laymen for special work in city
and country. Enlarge the schools of the prophets,
so that there shall be room for the training of those
who have had limited opportunities, but who exhibit

l6o SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

marked natural abilities and boundless enthusiasm
for the salvation of souls. Treat with the most
brotherly affection all who, however poorly qualified,
try to preach the gospel and to extend the kingdom
of our adorable Lord.

Still the power behind the throne of God on earth
is and is to be a liberally educated ministry. A
fervid, undisciplined evangelism may sweep through
a territory with astonishing results, and yet be pow-
erless to hold the region which it has overrun. No
religious conquest can' be made permanent without a
host of consecrated men thoroughly drilled in col-
leges and theological seminaries. A denomination
which recognizes this as a fundamental fact and
governs its course thereby will prosper. A denom-
ination which neglects to recruit the corps of the
reserve will find its supremacy declining and vanish-
ing away. Ecclesiastical history speaks with no un-
certain voice upon this question.

Methodism is the most instructive example.
Though born at Oxford, on coming to America she
concealed her university parentage and made her
first conquests in the wilderness by the sword of the
Spirit in the hands of enthusiastic, but illiterate,
preachers. For fifty years she did not establish a
single institution of higher learning on this continent.
But then she discovered her mistake. She saw that
if she would retain what she. had gained she must
bring her pulpits abreast with the best civilization.
She began the planting of colleges. That was in
1815. Since then no other denomination has relatively
made so magnificent progress in founding and foster-
ing such institutions, and thus extending and con-
solidating her power.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. l6l

Congregationalism laid the cornerstone of the first
college on these shores nearly two centuries earlier.
She has long borne the palm as the college building
polity, but is she not in danger of losing her crown?
Is it certain that some other denomination has not
already taken it away? Our churches do not care
for our colleges as they did in former days. Let the
colleges languish and the churches will lose their
grip on the western continent.

On commercial, civilizing and Christianizing
grounds, these institutions stand approved.

The college! The old apostrophe is justified :

" 0, relic and type of our ancestors' worth,
That has long kept their memory warm;

First flower of their wilderness, star of their night,
Calm rising through change and through storm."

"Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration
of Independence and the founder of the University
of Virginia!" Such was the epitaph written for him-
self by our wisest American statesman.

How consonant was the thought of John Bright,
the best friend that America ever had in England!
As in his old age he sat one day on the lawn of
Goldwin Smith, at Oxford, looking at the towers
and spires, listening to their chimes and yielding to
the spell of the score of illustrious colleges cluster-
ing there, he was overheard saying to himself : " It
would be very pleasant to be eighteen, and to be
coming here."

Fellow-citizens, reckoning the population of this
state at three millions and a half, and taking the
statistics of the last report of the commissioner of
education, you will find that we have only one dollar

162 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and twenty-two cents a head invested in the grounds,
buildings, apparatus and endowment funds of all our
colleges. No wonder that so few of our youth are
inspired with a passionate love for liberal learning.
No wonder that of the few so many seek their educa-
tion in other states, which make munificent provision
for the higher education. Is it not high time that
we so equip the colleges of Illinois, that, in their
beneficent presence, our sons shall be constrained to
adopt the words of John Bright: "It is very pleasant
to be eighteen and to be coming here."

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class : Let these
parting words follow the order of the address just
delivered. You have been too well trained in logic,
to find in the first part of the discussion any promise
that the curriculum now completed will make you
rich men. But you should cherish the conviction,
that, no matter what vocation you may follow, you
will get more dollars and cents out of that vocation,
than if you had entered it without the training given
by your alma mater.

In the choice o-f a profession, ask yourselves very
seriously, in what calling you can contribute most to
the best civilization.

The law is a noble profession. In itself, and
through its affinity to politics, it is to an ambitious
young man the most attractive of all the professions.
It is, however, badly overcrowded. One person in
nine hundred in the United States is a lawyer.
David Dudley Field bewails this fact. He attributes
to it the multiplication of scandals, divorces, and
other abominations.

Medicine is a noble profession. Still I have re-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 163

cently traveled through Illinois, Missouri, Nebraska,
Colorado, Iowa, Wisconsin and Minnesota, and I
have not found anywhere a scarcity of physicians.
Doctors are hunting for patients, not patients for
doctors.

But the whole region calls for farmers and teach-
ers and ministers. The transformation of what used
to be known as the Great American Desert, through
irrigation and scientific cultivation, suggests what
may be done by mixing brains with the soil, toward
diversifying industries, and thus relieving markets
now glutted with over-production in lines of busi-
ness once lucrative. I have spoken so often of a
better farming and of a more consecrated ministry,
that I would emphasize at this hour only the call for
teachers. Some one replies, "that is an easy thing
for a college instructor to urge, but how would it be
about going out and beginning with a country
school?"

Young gentlemen, only a little while after I was
standing as you stand now, and feeling as you feel
to-night, I was teaching in Mud Prairie, on $2$ a
month, and boarding around; and those were the
most profitable weeks in my experience. Some of
the money of which you have had the benefit in col-
lege, found its way, the other year, into the treasury,
from the pocket of one of those Mud Prairie direc-
tors in 1858. When I came home one morning last
summer, after long absence, the first thing to catch
my eye was the funeral notice of a big-hearted, little
old gentleman, whose latch-string was always out to
the district school teacher in those days of board-
ing around; and I said to myself that all other busi-
ness must stop till I could go and say a few words

164 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

over the coffin of Uncle Tommy Wright, of Mud
Prairie.

Whatever you turn to as your life work, carry with
you the purpose to dignify citizenship. Brother
Hay den and I were entertained during the recent
meeting of our State Association in Quincy, at the
home of Mr. Edward J. Parker, a prominent banker.
At the breakfast table, on the morning of decoration
day, we fell to talking of our heritage of civil and
religious liberty, and our host expressed the desire,
that, on all memorial and festival occasions the stars
and stripes might float above every school-house and
college in the land, as an object lesson to the peo-
ple. It was mildly suggested that -we had on the
Hill an admirable place for the display of the na-
tional colors. "You shall have the flag," responded
our host. The tall tower of Sturtevant Hall is not
a thing of beauty. Architecturally, it is fearfully
and wonderfully made. The question has often
arisen, what was it made for? The answer is, that
we might fly 'the flag higher above the sea level than
anybody else in Central Illinois. And so, .on com-
mencement morning/if you Seniors, with all the
other fellows, should gather there, and as the new
colors are run up for the first time, crack your
throats a trifle with the college cry for Illinois and
the republic, it would signify that our American
colleges stand for what is best in American citizen-
ship.

Higher than the flag rises the cross.

Next Tuesday evening the Christian Association
will observe its first anniversary. The Alumni So-
ciety,the Sigma Pi Society, and the Phi Alpha Society
hold their celebrations triennially. The Christian

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 165

Association will hold its celebration annually. It will
then bring to the institution some gifted man from
abroad, whose presence shall be the pledge unto
God, that, every year, Christian doctrine shall have
the first place of hpn.or at Illinois College.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.
BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1890.

"Behold I have given him for a witness to the people; a
leader and commander to the people." Isaiah Iv: 4.

MORAL SUPREMACY: ITS SOURCES AND MANIFESTATIONS.

A rigid exegesis would confine the text to Christ
and his earthly mission. Such were the limits of
the prophet's vision. But it is legitimate to give the
words a broader application. In describing the mas-
tership of Jesus, the verse reveals the secret of all
noble, spiritual dominion among men. Therefore,,
instead of making it our great object to exalt the
King of Kings in this discourse, let us use his illus-
trious example, chiefly, to irradiate the general sub-
ject announced in the beginning. The theme should
be one of absorbing interest to an audience like
this, assembled on such a occasion.

Christ was a witness. He came from the bosom
of God that he might make known unto men the:
very heart of God. For thousands of years the race
had been perplexing itself over that one question:
" What is the heart of God? " " How does he feel
towards his creatures? " And poets and priests and
philosophers had been giving all sorts of answers.
Perplexed by the contradictions, people exclaimed:
" These are only guesses after the truth. Nobody
knows. Poets and priests and philosophers fashion
their deities and then make them the mouthpieces,
of their own sentiments. Their communings are
with their own imaginations, and not with an invis-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 1 67

ible Creator." The prophets of one favored nation
had caught glimpses of Jehovah, and had uttered
some limited revelations of his nature and designs.
But they had failed to get audience with mankind.
Choice spirits of various lands and ages had been
thrilled by the mysterious movement of a Power un-
seen, but adorable. Yet their doctrine gained no
credence among the populace.

The world clamored for a Witness. At length the
Witness came, and the evidence was for the first
time satisfactory. The primary function of Christ
was testimony. And the primary function of every-
one who, in his name, would bless mankind, is testi-
mony. Jesus wins the world by forcing the world to
believe that he understands perfectly and reveals in-
fallibly, the heart of God. There is no hesitation,
no contradiction in his words. He does not deal in
hypotheses. He utters nothing but spiritual facts,
from personal experience.

Just there, by contrast, appears our weakness,
Our testimony carries with it an indefinable sugges-
tion of being traditional, or uncertain, or insincere..
We have heard from the Holy Oracles, or from
saintly men and women, that such and such are the
dispositions of Jehovah, and we so proclaim them,
but the utterance lacks the weight and impressive-
ness essential to insure conviction. That weight
and impressiveness are impossible, unless the soul
has been brought into intimate personal relations
to God. Such nearness saturates, prints through so
that the world must read. Men may try simulation
but it will be in vain. Some resort to affectations
of familiarity. Appellations of endearment, suitable
between man and man, or between man and woman,

1 68 SERMONS AMD ADDRESSES.

are used in addresses to the deity. But the strain
of unnaturalness or impropriety, defeats the pur-
pose. A few are attracted, but more are repelled.
* *. * < Others resort to affectations of awful rev-
erence. Their cold and distant ritual is an offense
to One , who has bidden men call him "Father
in Heaven," and it fails to gain credit for sanctity
among those who are seeking access to that Father's
presence.

The secret lies deeper. It is independent of all
externals. The men that captivate us, and bless us,
are those who come to us fresh from communion
with our Lord. They tell us with a directness and
unction admitting no doubt, what they have seen,
and heard, and felt, as they have walked with
God, and talked with God, and communed with God.
It is this which lays hold upon us in the sermons of
Bushnell, or Taylor, or Brooks, in the prayers of
Beecher, or in the personality of a Simpson, of a
Hall, or a Goodell. Scholarship, rhetoric and ora-
tory have their influence, but the breadth and depth
of the knowledge of God are the real measure of
power over man. It is the meagreness and shallow-
ness of such knowledge of God, that soon make us
weary of so many who profess to be the spiritual
guides of the people. We come to say " that is
bookish-ness, or a trick of style, or a cunning vocal
modulation." Such things wear out in a few months.
But let there be some ever fresh suggestion of the
secret things which the Most High is ever revealing
to one who abides in his very presence, and we never
tire of the witness.

You hear not a little about crossing the dead line
and losing grip. These calamities are supposed to

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 169

be the result of old age, or of premature intellectual
decline. This is sometimes the explanation, but
still more frequently may the reason be found
in the shallowness of the man's religious experi-
ences. He has never fathomed the unsearchable
riches of Christ. His spiritual wisdom is little
deeper than that of those whom he addresses. He
has repeated the same testimony till it has lost its
brightness. It is evident that he has told all that he
knows of the nature of Jehovah, and that he is learn-
ing nothing more. People have no further use
for such a witness upon the witness stand; they bid
him retire, and call another. The people are not to
blame. These consequences may often be avoided
by cultivating reverently, but resolutely, an intimacy
with the Creator. That should be progressive. That
ought to be the fundamental and constant study of
those who seek moral supremacy over others.
While a man continues to have some new and pre-
cious message from above, the world will care very
little whether the speaker numbers his years by two-
score, or three-score, or four-score.

Such testimony from the lips will have corrobo-
rating testimony from the life. It may not shine
through the countenance, as did the revelation of
Jehovah through the face of Moses, but a quiet
spirit will remove deep furrows of anxiety, queru-
lousness will die out of the voice, and the person
will be surrounded with an atmosphere of gracious
serenity. Original traits will remain. The knowl-
edge of God does not transform a nervous tempera-
ment into a phlegmatic temperament, or a melan-
choly temperament into a sanguine temperament.
But despondency will give way to a prevailing cheer-

170 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

fulness and a stimulating hopefulness. Moreover,
when the consciousness of deity pervades the whole
being, it imparts richness and sweetness to all other
kinds of knowledge. There is a foolish notion that
the cultivation of the closest relations between
the earthly child and the Heavenly Father, will in
some way narrow the faculties of the former, and
hinder his acquisition of the most liberal and varied
learning. But who that understands the constitution
of the soul is ignorant of the fact that the exercise
of the faculties upon any one great theme, enlarges
their capacity for action in every department of in-
vestigation? The closer man gets to the heart of
God, the closer does he get to the heart of science
and philosophy; for these are only the partial un-
folding of those truths which were in the mind of
the Omniscient from the beginning. The spiritual
is the most brilliant illuminator of the intellectual.
There is no fine, mental attainment which may not
thus be glorified. The more numerous the provinces
of investigation mastered, the more valuable will be
our testimony for God. Only let us begin with that
which should always be first, the knowledge of Him.
For, say what we will to the contrary, there is to-day
no other knowledge which the world so much needs,
no other knowledge which the world is so eager for.

And there is no other man who will command so
quick attention, and draw so delighted an audience
as he who, out of the depths of his own experience,
can make some better revelation of what God is to
the soul.

But, in the next place, there must also be a knowl-
edge of man, to whom this witness is delivered.
Christ knew man as well as he knew God. He thus

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 1 7 1

served as the easiest medium of communication be-
tween the two. But with him no study was neces-
sary. He embraced within himself the fulness of
each. A glance within revealed both instantly.
But with us the learning, even in the human direc-
tion, is slow and laborious. In fact, the study of the
finite seems often more perplexing than the study
of the infinite. For the former, though insignifi-
cant, is a tangle of petty contradictions, while the
latter, though so great, is one grand harmony. The
training of the schools is necessarily in the knowl-
edge of books, rather than in the knowledge of men.
Though books reveal men through the recorded
thoughts of the latter, still the information is at second
hand. The picture in the looking glass cannot be so
satisfactory as the face. Usually, also, the man in the
book is not the common man whom you expect to
influence, and with whom you should, therefore, be
the most eager to get acquainted. In a general way,
human nature is the same in every station; but our
biographies are chiefly of those who walk life's high
places, and their circumstances give them a different
complexion from that worn by the struggling crowd.
Biographies serve a better purpose as models, or
ideals, for ourselves, than as studies of character
among the multitude. Even in the humble child-
hood of Grant, the author is displaying real or sup-
posed indications of manifest destiny, so that the
boy figures as an uncommon common boy. If you
would learn to be a leader of rail splitters, a day
spent with some one who is working up white oak
with maul and wedges, would give you much more
light upon the subject than a day devoted to any life
of the great rail splitter. So soon as one become",

1 7 2 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the hero of a book, an atmosphere of mirage gath-
ers about his cradle, and it wraps him round all
along till he sleeps in his coffin, and the king of ter-
rors does not dispel it, even there.

There is the same trouble when you turn to his-
tory. The figures that pass before you are the larger
figures, and they too, walk in an air of illusion,
There is a haze that magnifies. Should men of ordi-
nary stature appear, it is in great, moving bodies,
so that no individual face is distinctly revealed.
When an author like Knight, abandoning custom,
sets about writing the story of the people, rather
than of their rulers, he is only partially successful.
You do get a better picture of the life of the multi-
tude, but the colors run together, and only the great
actors crowd to the front, so as to attract personal
attention. Your interest centers in the man who
wears the shoulder-straps and- who commands to fire,
and not in the uniformed body that bites the cart-
ridge and pulls the trigger. The general philosophy
of history may be mastered fairly well without any
remarkable knowledge of ordinary human nature.
Though the nation is made up of individuals, it is the
calculation of general averages which shows the
trend of national life. That can be figured out in
the study, without mingling with the people. But
he that would himself shape the movements of the
multitude, must make himself familiar with the inner
thoughts of the individuals who compose the mul-
titude.

The case is still worse with those who try to learn
men through polite literature, for that is even
farther removed from the plane of ordinary expe-
rience. Polite literature manifests what is true of a

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 173

small, select circle. We ought to read Goleridge
and Wordsworth, and Emerson, and Browning, but
surely not with the notion that we are thus to learn
human nature as it is found on farm, in shop, in
store, up and down the highways and the byways of
the world. The mission of such authors is blessed.
They come to us in hours of seclusion with messages
of inspiration, when we have withdrawn awhile from
the crowd, that in the ideal realm we may refresh
ourselves for the better service of mankind.

I am not a believer in that so-called realism in lit-
erature which is the rage of the period. It is of the
earth earthy. Still it makes one very plausible plea
for favor. It claims to withdraw attention from those
lofty themes and exalted personages that have hith-
erto been far too prominent in the reading and the
thinking of the race, to popularize every-day scenes
and to dignify the ordinary men and women who
are the actors therein. If the movement could be
rescued from dirty manipulation by the French
school of fiction, it might be made a blessing. A
literature 'of common life, which should be kept
clean and sweet, would prove exceedingly whple-
some. It would be especially beneficial in bringing
the upper classes of society to a better understanding
of the lower. The study of such books would be a
genuine study of man. It would help to quiet an-
tagonism and to foster good will.

The drama is better fitted than any other depart-
ment of literature to give this knowledge of human
nature on which I am insisting. There is no other
secular book so good as Shakespeare, for study by
one who would become a leader of .the people. No-
where else do we find so complete and masterly

1 74

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

a treatment of the motives which sway all classes
and conditions of men. Hamlet and the grave-
digger serve the purpose equally well. The mind of
the dramatist swings with perfect ease and impar-
tiality from the soliloquy of the prince to the talk of
the clown. The author seems to have no more fond-
ness for the former's lofty speculation on life and
death, than for the latter's homely philosophy, as he
handles- the skull of poor Yorick just dug out of the
clay. You are made no better acquainted with
Macbeth, and Lear, and Othello, and Richard Third,
and Julius Csesar, than with Quince, and Snug, and
Bottom, and Shallow, and Dogberry. Still, notwith-
standing this fidelity to nature without regard to
rank or vocation, the setting of the sixteenth cen-
tury is not the setting of the nineteenth century, and
the whole procession of figures moving through the
plays of Shakespeare will not give you so valuable an
insight into life and character as you may get by the
personal study of the men and women you meet
every day.

Yet mark you this : the study must not be cyni-
cal, but sympathetic, if you would have it tributary
to your moral supremacy. It is tender affection
blending with clearest vision which is drawing all
toward Christ as Master and Lord. On our part,
worse than ignorance respecting human nature
would be contempt for it engendered by familiarity
with its weakness and wickedness. Said one to me
who had had wide experience in dealing with all
classes of people : " You ministers move about in
blissful ignorance of the meanness, the 'malignity,
and the rottenness of society. You paint pretty
pictures of generosity, fraternity and righteousness.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 175

They are rather attractive as fancy .sketches, but
what are they worth? They may please a few
deluded optimists. The multitude, however, only
laughs at your innocent simplicity, and goes its way,
leaving you to your unsophisticated dreams of
Utopia. If you would quit this realm of imagination
where the women are so angelic, and the men are so
saintly, and find out what miserable sinners and
hardened reprobates make up the body of society,
your sweet charity would turn to gall, and then your
tongues might do something toward lashing the
world into decency."

Now there is too much truth in the charge that
ministers, shut up in their studies, and much given
to contemplating ideals of moral excellence, endow
carnal creatures with a spirituality wanting in fact.
Such ignorance is deplorable. It ought to be re-
moved. But God forbid that in the process of dis-
enchantment, love should turn to scorn, and speech
become a whip of scorpions. The last state would be
worse than the first. Christ knew all about the
woman, that was a sinner and the man that was a
thief. His nature recoiled as can no other from lust
and crime. But what were His feelings and His ac-
cents, in the temple, and on the cross, when He said
to the woman : " Go and sin no more ; " and to the
man: "This day shalt thou be with. me in paradise!"
We are all both far worse and far better than we
seem. This should make us very strong and very
gracious in our ministry. Overt acts may fall within
the pale of strict propriety, but should we unmask
the thoughts that come close and look eagerly upon
the forbidden, when we are nevertheless restrained
from transgression by some providence outside our-

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

selves, all the world would point the finger and cry
shame ! Such facts ought to make us most
clement in dealing with those who have had no
guardian presence to restrain them in temptation,
and have brought upon themselves open disgrace.
Two walk together up to a certain line, neither any
better or any worse than the other. But that line is
the brink of an abyss. One, unrestrained, goes over
and is lost. The other, held back by an unseen
hand, turns aside, and' society never suspects what he
was saved' from. Has he any cause to glory in his
superior virtue? Had that unseen hand been laid
upon the shoulder of his companion, that companion
would now be walking in the sweet upper light, and
he -himself would be an outcast in the nether gloom.
'What spirit should this breed in us all? Not
phariseeism. It ought to excite a yearning to rescue
those who just now stood on the same social plane
and the same moral plane as ourselves. Let there be
no pity. Pity hurts, it does not heal. But sympathy
never hurts, it often cures. You have read of the
man who went to a convict, and said to him: " My .
dear fellow, I know all about your case. And but for
the special grace of God I should be just where you
are to-day." The convict looked up grimly arid
said fiercely: "You don r t mean it, you hypocrite."
"I do mean precisely that," replied the other. And
the convict glared upon the man awhile. And the
man met the look with a gaze that was honest and
full of sympathy. And the tears began to flow from
the eyes of the man. And the tears began to flow
from the eyes of the convict. And hand sought
hand. And the convict said, " Though prison walls
must separate us, I am saved. I can be, and I will

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. IJJ

be, once more a man, because your heart has conquered
mineT To be a savior, it is not necessary that you
should commit the same crime as he whom you
seek to rescue, but you must show that you have
felt the same fierce temptation, and have barely es-
caped, and also that any sense of superiority is for-
gotten, so that you suffer with the criminal, almost
as if you were yourself a reprobate. That brings you
near, and gives you grasp, and clasp, and uplifting
and transforming power. All these hair-breadth
escapes from moral disaster, which you and I have
hidden among the secrets that no other mortal
knows about, are our best equipment for rescuing
the perishing. We need not make specific con-
fessions, but we must suggest enough, so that he
whom we approach shall, with a start of surprise,
say, " Why, this man whom the world calls immac-
ulate, has just missed being what I am; he feels pre-
cisely as I have felt; he has come along the same
forbidden path, only he stopped one step short
of the chasm into which I fell; he knows all about it;
he suffers with me; he cannot bear to have me lost;
I will not be lost." This is the secret of moral
leadership. These are extreme cases, but the prin-
ciple covers the whole domain of trial, trouble, dis-
appointment, defeat, calamity and anguish. The
leader there must have his baptism of grief and of
tears. It is the suffering deeply cut into the heroic
face that makes you always turn for one more look
at Lincoln's picture in history and Dante's picture
in poetry. While in tragedy the central figure is
that of the Man of Sorrows, whose lifting up on
Gethsemane is drawing the world that way.

But we are all likewise far better than we seem,.

1 7 8 SERMONS AND 'ADDRESSES.

and that fact opens other possibilities of leadership.
The most plodding mortal is not forever walking in
the dust and stumbling among the clods. He, now
and then, gets well up the mount of transfiguration,
and catches a glimpse of the shining ones, and, like
Peter, and James and John, is bewildered by celestial
voices. Such rare and fleeting experiences ought to
be to us both benediction and inspiration. They
deepen the conviction, that God is our heavenly
Father; that the phrase is something more than a be-
witching metaphor; that we are indeed his beloved
children, having even here in the flesh some likeness
to Him. And there spring up in the heart beliefs,
hopes and aspirations inexpressibly precious. God
give us a quicker insight, and a more joyous sym-
pathy with these radiant characteristics of the peo-
ple that we mingle with day after day. Trooping
from morning-land comes a host of young men and
maidens, eager to follow one who will interpret
aright these vanishing visions and make them an
abiding possession, temporal no less than eternal.

The world resists arbitrary power more and more.
The independence of the individual was never before
so stoutly asserted. The weak are learning to com-
bine more successfully against tyrannical masters.
Still there has never been a time when moral
supremacy was so welcome. Society is eagerly
looking about to find those who have a profound
knowledge of God and of man, a rich spiritual
experience, a cordial sympathy with others, in their
struggle with the carnal, and in their aspirations to-
ward holiness. Society says to such, be ye not only
leaders, but commanders of the people. Those who
would die before they would submit to a despot, be-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 179

come the enthusiastic followers of one who rises
above them in divine and human wisdom, in brother-
ly affection for the fallen, and in winged hope for
those whose hearts are fixed upon the crown of life.
They are not quite satisfied with words of counsel
from his lips. They bid him speak with authority.
Down, deep in their souls, men do love such a

MASTER.

In lesser and in larger circles, there are thrones
waiting for kings innumerable. God bids us all thus
to be witnesses, and leaders, and commanders of the
people.

Young Gentlemen of the Graduating Class: Espec-
ially urgent is this divine call to those who have
just completed the college curriculum. The studies
of the Senior year encourage moral thoughtfulness
and moral earnestness. Man, as an individual, as a
member of society, and as a son of God, engrosses
the attention. I rejoice that, in addition to the
ordinary influence of the investigations which you
have been pursuing, you, in common with your
fellow students, have within the past few months ex-
perienced a gracious quickening from the Holy
Spirit. With some, religious life has been revived;
with others, it has just begun. Do you not feel at
this hour a new sense of obligation, to go out into the
world as "witnesses to the people?" Cultivate, then,
first of all a profound knowledge of God as he is re-
vealed in Christ, that your testimony may have con-
vincing power.

In the second place, enter now upon a more com-
prehensive study of man. The college world is a
very delightful world, still it differs greatly from the
wide, wide world which you are to enter. Never

l8o SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

abandon the scholarly ideal. Join not the ranks of
those who would betray liberal learning into the
hands of the Philistines. Do not, on the -other side,
withdraw into a select literary circle, and dwell there
in donnish exclusiveness. Seek to be "leaders of the
people." Within a twelve-month you will find that
they are in no hurry to follow the young college
graduate. The winning ways which he has learned
to practice with the college boy, or the college girl,
prove a misfit when .tried upon the multitude.

To the knowledge of the schools and books,
and of those who live in the schools and books, pre-
cious as it is, add the knowledge of those who look
with indifference, or suspicion, or hostility upon
attainments which are, in your eyes, of supreme im-
portance. Cultivate and manifest an interest in men
as men, without regard to station or vocation..
Study them, through close contact, amid homes and
callings of every description. Convince them that
this is not from idle curiosity, not from selfish mo-
tives, but from a genuine interest in their welfare.
After such qualification for leadership, there will
arise a temptation to expect too much in the way of
personal appreciation from those whom you seek
to serve. " Do good, hoping for nothing again,"
said the Great Leader. It -costs grievous pangs to
learn that secret. When you find that men are fol-
lowing mainly for what they can gain by so doing,
and that they will desert when there is no personal
profit in loyalty, it will hurt sorely, and there is dan-
ger that you may become bitter and misanthrophic.
Resist that bravely, and, in the course of years, to
mitigate your disappointment, will come blessed ex-

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. l8l

pressions of confidence and affection from sources
wholly unexpected.

The leader who keeps his faith unshaken, his hope
buoyant and his love ardent, through this long and
trying ordeal, must finally become a "commander of
the people." '

I do not hold up before you to-night the glitter-
ing prizes of private and public life. I do not
know whether they would be obtainable by you
all. I do not know whether they would be desirable
for you all. But moral supremacy is possible for
every one. Moral supremacy would be an unspeak-
able blessing to every one. Therefore, unto that
aspire. Pursue the ideal with the studious fidelity
which has been your distinguishing peculiarity as . a
class, throughout the college course, and, whatever
your vocation may be, wherever your lot may be
cast, you will, in this highest sense, be " command-
ers of the people."

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.
BEFORE THE CLASS OF 1892.*

" And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out
my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and daughters shall
prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men
shall see visions." Joel ii : 28.

THE INFLUENCE OF THE SPIRIT OF GOD UPON THE
SOUL OF MAN : TRANSFORMATION !

This is only one of several agencies thus employed,
but it differs radically from all the others, in the
nature and results of its operation.

The life of the child is chiefly a life in the senses.
Through touch, he derives his primary knowledge of
the external world. At first, he literally apprehends,
with his hand. Presently, smell, taste, vision and
hearing begin to thrill him, with their peculiar de-
lights.

It is a charming sight to watch him indulge in the
various enjoyments of the wonderland which he
explores. There is no more disposition to criticise
the play of the child than that of the calf, the colt
or the kitten.

But, before long, a contrast appears. It becomes
manifest that this life in the senses is the only one

* Serious illness during the spring of 1891 prevented Presi-
dent Tanner from delivering the Baccalaureate Address, his
place being supplied by Rev. Wm. H. Milburn, D. D. The
sermon already prepared for that occasion, he planned to
preachbefore the class of 1892; but another, the acting president,
Dr. Harvey W. Milligan, read it for him four months after the
writer was gone.

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 183

of which the animal is capable, and that, in a state
of nature, he may be left free to follow his appetite,
without any change for the better or the worse. Not
so, however, is it with the child. Keep constantly
before the animal an unlimited supply of all things
eatable, and he will never damage himself. Instinct
shields him from harm.

<

Yet, when you expose the child thus, he brings
upon himself all kinds of sickness. He must be re-
strained by others, or taught by the pains of ex-
cess, to restrain himself. Let him continue living
to eat and drink, instead of eating and drinking to
live, and finally the sense of taste will transform him
into a gross and carnal creature.

The senses of sight and hearing exercise little
practical influence over brutes. You notice some
sensitiveness to both color and sound, but, only in
exceptional cases, can either beauty or harmony, be
said to make, or mar, the happiness of beasts and
birds. Sight and hearing are, however, mighty fac-
tors, in the weal or woe of the human race.

They have an office essentially nobler than that of
taste. They cannot so easily be prostituted to base-
ness. They call attention away from the lower to
the higher functions of the physical system.

They develop the aesthetic nature, and serve as a
check upon appetite. Let them gain the ascen-
dency, and you will find that they have to some ex-
tent an expulsive power over the lower propensities.

The mere sculptor, or painter, or musician, ranks
in the scale of being, far above the one who takes as
his motto: "let me eat and drink to-day, for to-mor-
row I die." Sight and hearing may thus so far get
the mastery of appetite as to transform a groveling

184 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

disposition, into one which delights in pictures and
statuary and song. Still, you have not yet crossed
the distinct boundary, which separates the realm of
aesthetics from the realm of ethics. Neither sep-
arately, nor combined, can the senses effect a blessed
moral transformation.

Now, -will sin do it? This is a question which
Hawthorne discusses, in that fascinating and power-
ful piece of fiction: The Marble Faun. He presents
you, at the outset, with the picture of Donatello, a
being with all the senses in perfect accord, a being
that furnishes the missing link in the development
theory, protected, by inherited animal instinct, from
the physical miseries which ordinary humanity in-
curs through over-indulgence, and still of sufficient
intellectual endowments, to get a moderate enjoy-
ment from the reasoning faculties, but with the
moral sense wholly dormant.

A love which is partly animal, partly human, takes
possession of this strange creature. Instigated some-
what by his own fondness, and somewhat by the
look and gesture of his beloved, he, in a moment of
frenzy, hurls her persecutor down a precipice to de-
struction.

What had just before had no more moral quality to
him, than to an eagle has the death of a lamb, for the
feeding of her young, or the killing o-f any animal
has to a mastiff, in obedience to the bidding of his
master, suddenly arouses conscience, as it is struck
by the fangs of remorse. The soul is torn by a
mighty convulsion. What had seemed only the nat-
ural and legitimate death of a hated object, all at
once shocks the eye as MURDER, written every-
where in characters of blood. That mangled body

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 185

at the foot of the cliff, will not stay buried by day.
It cries out in the visions of the night. Donatello
may repair to his former haunts in field and forest,
but the fountains turn crimson, and Undine hides
from sight. Timid animals steal out from their re-
treats to frisk about him as of old, but, as he beck-
ons them closer, they detect a clot of gore upon his
hand, and vanish. The birds began to respond to
his call, but suddenly the music dies out of their
throats, and they whirl and whirr back into the
thickets. All the blessed harmonies of nature have
become only a succession of cruel discords.

Human society affords no relief. Upon every
man's face, there is either the cunning smile of the
betrayer, or the scowl of the avenger.

From the very woman for whose sake the deed of
darkness was done, the culprit feels a shuddering
recoil, till, after distressing months of compassionate
ministry on her part, a pitiful reconciliation is ef-
fected.

But this brings no happiness to either. In rustic
scene and city carnival, the two do now and then try
to forget their common woe, still a ghost tracks them
in their disguise, and a death's head grins at them in
the midst of their wildest pranks.

Instead of the animal frolicsomeness and the hu-
man giddiness of the earlier period, you behold a
physical tremor and a self-tormenting spirit in Don-
.atello.

You cherish a certain respect for the moral
thoughtfulness and the merciless self-accusations of
the wretched creature. You say justly, that there is
in him more that is noble, than there was before he
became involved in the tragedy. Out of a happy

1 86 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

animal, has come an unhappy man. Still, though
you sympathize profoundly with the latter, and de-
clare that he stands higher than the former in the
scale of being, you would rather be the animal than,
the man, if no further advance were possible.

Sin has wrought a transformation, but it were bet-
ter not wrought if the process must stop there. Sin
working alone through remorse cannot bring peace.
Sin in itself is not a benefactor.

I do not know precisely what doctrine Hawthorne
meant to teach by the fiction. I presume that he in-
tended to leave the subject enveloped in the haze of
speculation, just as he refused to testify, whether
the ears of Donatello were furry, or not furry..
Neither naturalist nor spiritualist can make much of
Hawthorne as a witness, in a case tried before a jury
empaneled in the ordinary fashion. His subtle spirit
delights in tantalizing all in court, by his bewildering
hints and evasions.

But so much is clear in the light of the story. Sin
may, through remorse, effect a sort of moral trans-
formation, but not a happy moral transformation. It
may arouse a giddy soul, so that that soul shall lose
all relish for the sensual and sensuous gratifications
which have hitherto been its delight. But sin has
no satisfactory substitute to offer. It reveals the
shallowness and the wickedness of the past life. It
may awaken better longings, still it makes no prom-
ise of their realization. The victim is driven up
and down the world by an accusing spirit, or, in an
extreme case like that of Donatello, he may in de-
spair confess his crime, and, tormented by an accus-
ing conscience, end his days in a malefactor's cell.
Sin is not, as some would have us believe, an angel

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 187

in disguise. Sin has no mission of mercy and benef-
icence. When we fall into guilt, we fall downward,
not upward. The logical issue of sin is DEATH.

Now advance a step, and take from the realm of
fiction another short study of the doctrine of trans-
formation. Shift the scene from Italy to Egypt.

In the " Bride of the Nile," George Ebers very
happily portrays the transforming power of woman
over man. Orion is a youth of noble lineage, rich,,
handsome, gifted, the prince of good fellows, gener-
ously disposed and popular, but of lax morality in
the gratification of every desire. He has been
trained to think that the rights of others should be
subordinated to his personal happiness. In his pur-
suit of pleasure, the sufferings of those around him,
when caused by his conduct, excite no distressing
upbraidings of conscience. He never raises the
question, but that man was created to be the ser-
vant of his ambition, woman the victim of his fugitive
fancy.

He meets Paula, his equal in rank and accomplish-
ments, but trained in the school of adversity, and, in
addition to a moral nature highly sensitive, taught by
experience to respect the rights of the lowly, as well
as of those in exalted station.

It is a case of mutual fascination and antipathy.
Each is irresistibly drawn toward the other. Still
both feel a strange repulsion. Orion is compelled to
recognize in Paula a moral ideal which he has not
seen before.

He is, one moment, forced to admit its excellence.
The next moment, he is exasperated by its silent re-
proach of his own self-indulgent character. Though
Paula reads him no lectures, he half-confesses her

1 88 SERMONS AMD ADDRESSES.

superiority, and yet vows to humble her, because
her presence disturbs his self-complacency. Paula,
on the other hand, beholds in Orion great brilliancy,
many shining possibilities, many manly qualities, by
which she is not a little attracted, still these are
so beclouded by his lower passions, that she is
driven to take shelter from his presence, in womanly
reserve.

Which shall conquer? Shall he humble her lofty
spirit, which, by contrast, rebukes him and fills his
breast with a sense of 'self-abasement?' Shall she,
abiding by her high moral standard, lead him little
by little, to a finer conception of life? Can she ever
succeed in inducing him to abandon his youthful
weaknesses and vices, to heed the responsibilities of
his birth-right, and to realize his splendid oppor-
tunities? For years the conflict goes on, but finally
the woman prevails, and the man becomes the bene-
factor of the people in whatever pertains to material
prosperity and physical well-being.

I cannot recall, in fiction, a happier illustration of
woman's power, to bring man up to a recognition of
his obligation, to subdue his baser propensities, and
to promote the happiness of all within his sphere of
influence. You may think of cases even more strik-
ing in the novel, or in real life, but you must admit,
that, in the realm of fancy and of fact, woman,
unaided, can not raise man above the line which
separates the rights of the creature from the rights
of the Creator. A woman may transform an im-
moral man into a moral man. But, if the process is
to continue, and the moral man is to be transformed
into a religious man, a still higher agency must
operate, namely, the Spirit of God. It is true that

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 189

that Spirit may employ a great variety of means; He
may work through instrumentalities animate and in-
animate, still He remains the original source of
power. The spirit of woman is the purest and most
exalted of these instrumentalities, but it is after all
only an instrumentality, when you pass from morals
to religion. Remember that morals concern our re-
lations to man, that religion concerns our relations
to God. Woman, without God, can lift man to the
plane of morality. Woman, without God, cannot
lift man to the plane of religion.'

I have dealt so long with moral transformation
that I might draw the distinction very sharply be-
tween that and the religious transformation, which is
described in the words of the text.

Do not belittle what other agencies can accom-
plish. Magnify them to the utmost. Such fairness
disarms criticism, meets the charge of narrow-mind-
edness, and enables you to set forth more convinc-
ingly the nobler truth which you seek to establish.

When, then, the Spirit of God is poured out, the
transformation wrought is different, not in degree,
but in kind. It is regeneration, and its product, a new
creature. We have seen that sin can do no more
than disturb spiritual indifference, and excite spirit-
ual unrest. We have seen that woman, the purest
and most exalted of created beings, can, at best,
only lead man to a recognition of his duties to his
fellow man.

But here is a finer and mightier agency, which can
accomplish all that the others can accomplish, and
can also bring the soul into harmonious relations to
its Author, and fill it with the peace which passeth
understanding.

190 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

This blessed influence encircles those in every
period of life. "Of such is the kingdom of heaven,"
says Christ of little children. "Heaven lies about us
in our infancy," says Wordsworth, The voice of the
King and that of the seer are in happiest accord.
Such is the general tenor of the gospel and of com-
mon experience.

The text, however, does not linger with those of
that tender age, but speaks first of sons and daugh-
ters, boys and girls, those who are old enough to
bear specific testimony to the change which is
described. As a result of what has taken place, they
"prophesy." Here, as often elsewhere in Holy Writ,
the word does not signify to foretell events, but to
declare that which is not the suggestion of nature;
that which would have remained unknown, without
supernatural intervention. This is not to claim that
the change always takes place "with observation."
The contrary is true in many instances. But, without
discussing the question of dating conversion, it is
sufficient for the present purpose to maintain that,
after conversion, the boy and girl do lead a different
life, do speak a different language, do bear witness
to a different range of experience. This is most
conspicuous in a season of revival. The view is
clearer and the barriers of reserve are swept away, so
that we look in upon the secrets of the soul. One
encourages another to free expression. Sometimes,
doubtless, this leads to impulsive over-statement,
still proper care will enable us to discriminate be-
tween the fanciful and morbid, and the genuine and
wholesome, in these revelations of the inner life.
Throw out all that is fictitious and exaggerated, and
there will remain what may be taken safely as the

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 191

substantial experience of those in question. You
can not doubt that the declarations are sincere. You
can not doubt that they fairly reflect what is trans-
piring within the heart. Now, it is very desirable
that this freedom of expression should continue after
the period of wide-spread religious interest has
passed.

An unobtrusive, but confident avowal of what God
is to them every day is most becoming in boys and
girls. It acts as a safe-guard against relapse, first
into indifference, and then into positive wickedness.
It rebukes the doubts and confirms the faith of their
associates, and of those more mature in years. The
golden mean should be sought between undue re-
serve and undue exposure, concerning these sacred
relations of the child to its heavenly Father.

The danger used to be in the former direction.
The subject of religion was so presented that boys
and girls came near it with bated breath and palpi-
tating hearts, as they came near a haunted house, or
a grave-yard after night-fall. They learned to speak,
in holy tones, of shadowy fears and trembling hopes.
Cheerful confidence seemed presumption, out-
spoken assurance, a profanation of the holy of
holies.

Some think that we are rushing to the other ex-
treme; that we are destroying reverence; that we are
coarsening the relation between the finite spirit and
the infinite Spirit; that the current of religious ex-
perience is no longer permitted to flow on deep and
silent, but is drawn off into a broader but shallower
bed, over which it spends itself in froth and noisy
demonstration.

Such warnings ought to be heeded. We should

192 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

not forget the temptations to insincerity, pretension,
cant and hypocrisy, to which the young as well as
the old are exposed. Still, boys and girls whose
hearts have been changed by the Spirit of God,
should foster the habit of testifying modestly, but
joyfully, concerning the preciousness of redemption.
The young people's societies of various names are
the normal training schoolsfor such religious devel-
opment. Let the churches withhold from them
neither faithful caution nor inspiring commendation.

Thus shall not only sons and daughters " proph-
esy," but young men and women "see visions," not
merely such visions as delight all, at this intoxicat-
ing season, but visions which blend the transient
with the permanent, time with eternity. Visions of
youth ! What can be more entrancing ? The
pulse quickens at the mention. Childhood catches
some idea of their full meaning from its own half
suggestions of coming possibilities, and impatiently
crowds forward that the tantalizing glimpse may be
exchanged for the well defined pictures of a more
mature imagination.

These visions may be terrestrial only, or they may
mingle the terrestial with the celestial, but visions of
some sort youth must have.

Those of the terrestrial kind are earth-born. Some
reveal shapes gross and carnal. Others display
forms material but beautiful. Others still, shine
with the brilliant creations of chivalry anc romance.
These reach the very border-land of the spiritual,
and often seem to fetch the divine within their com-
pass. After they have vanished, second childhood
looks back to them as eagerly as first childhood had
looked forward to them, and, in the retrospect, half

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS.

forgets its feebleness and forlornness. I would not
speak contemptuously of these more radiant terres-
trial visions of young manhood and young woman
hood. Nay, I recognize in them the sweetest and
most blessed gifts which this world has to bestow.

"The buried dream in life's sluggish stream,
Is the golden sand of our young ambition,"

sang John O'Reilly. There would be a witchery in
the smile of beauty, there would be an ecstacy in
the voice of love; a halo would encircle virtue, and
heroism would wear a crown resplendent, even were
there no thought of the life immortal.

But, O young men and young women, hope of
home, hope of society, hope of the commonwealth,
hope of the republic, hope of human civilization,
there is something better still. Once let the power
of the Holy Ghost transform your hearts, and
visions more glorious shall break upon the view.
Nothing truly precious will fade out of what you
have previously cherished.

The celestial will first transfigure the terrestrial.

Beauty's smile will be more entrancing, love's
voice will thrill as never before, the halo of virtue
will grow supernal, and the crown of heroism, hith-
erto resplendent, will glow in the light from beyond
the stars. And then your vision shall sweep on be-
yond these bounds of time and sense, and reveal
the now open secrets of the endless life those
things which the natural eye hath not seen, which
the natural ear hath not heard, and which it hath
not entered into the natural man to conceive. " I
have kept well the bird in my bosom," said Sir Ralph
Percy, as he lay dying on the field of battle.

Believe me, these are no idle visions like those in.

i 9 4

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

which opium-eaters and lotus-eaters revel. These
bring the soul no aimless reverie. They are its in-
spiration to noblest activities. I hear you cry,
" Thank God for such revelations unto us of what
may be, must be, shall be realized, partly on earth,
partly in heaven. Thank God that he calleth us to
this blessed work for time and for eternity." Yes,
welcome always whatever the Lord giveth you thus
to see, as the divine intimation of what he would
have you seek to be and to do. These are the vis-
ions of youth to which he biddeth you be true.

One precious reward of such obedience will be
that these visions will gradually change into the
dreams of old age. Such transition is tranquil and
happy. The morning freshness, the impulsive ea-
gerness, the irrepressible enthusiasm, the indefatig-
able activities of the earlier day may pass away, but
the spirit of the vision will remain in the spirit of
the dream.

Religious imagination paints the same pictures for
the delight of the soul in old age. The outlines are
not so sharp, the figures in the foreground do not
stand out in colors so vivid and bold; but there is
greater depth of perspective, a mellower atmosphere,
a more tranquil hope. And the dream is no more
idle than was the vision. Though the movement has
become less tense and nervous, it is never intermitted.
The tides of physical life have spent their violence,
but they maintain a steady ebb and flow. Spiritual
activities happily adjust themselves to these changed
bodily conditions. Labors of love in the service of
man and for the glory of Zion, though less conspic-
uous, are no less acceptable to him who seeth in se-
cret, and who awardeth special honor to those silent

BACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. 195

forces which are the great reserved power in the king-
dom ot nature and in the kingdom of grace.

And thus old age may journey down its glowing
west, dreaming its inspiring dream, and fulfilling its
beneficent mission, till it reaches the peaceful sea
and joins in the parting song:

" Twilight and evening bells,

And after that the dark;

And let there be no moaning of farewells

When I embark.

"For though from out the bourne of time and place,

The floods may bear me far;

I hope to see my PILOT face to face,

When I have crossed the bar."

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH."
" There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth." Prov. xi: 24.

A young man of twenty-three has fought his way
through college, has finished the study of law and is
ready for practice. He is very poor. A dollar looks
big.

Just then, to him in .that Boston office, comes the
offer of a county clerkship, at two thousand a year.
Father and mother bid him accept the position.
Never before had it seemed so easy to keep the fifth
commandment. He rushes excitedly into the pres-
ence of his teacher, for congratulation and a parting
blessing. But the latter, with frowning brow, reads
the letter and hands it back, remarking, "Your mis-
sion is to make opinions for other men to record,
and not to be a clerk, to record the opinions of
courts."

Objection after objection is met, and the appointee
sets out for his New Hampshire home, pledged to
decline the situation. The worst is to come. He is
welcomed at the threshold with embraces and kisses,
by those whose old age he can still surround with
ease and comfort. The struggle is fierce. Before
him are pleading suggestions of filial affection, of a
tranquil life, of a liberal income and of assured
respectability. But, above him, there is a voice in
the air.

He makes known his resolution. An angry scene
ensues. The father dismisses the son, exclaiming:
"Silly, crazy boy! Daniel, you have come to no-

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH." 197

thing." And the youth goes and rents an office at
$15 per annum, and hangs out a cheap sign, and, at
the end of two full years, the sum total of his fees
is less than $40. Where are the $4,000? "Scattered"
A quarter of a century has passed. The occupant
has moved out of that dingy room in the old red
store. The senate chamber at Washington is bril-
liant with beauty and graced with genius, beauty and
genius entranced as never before within these walls.
Webster is answering Hayne.

"There is that scattereth and yet increaseth."
The outer leaf of biography often infolds another,
stamped like itself, and written over with similar
meaning. Said one to the sage of Marshfield, "Was
that speech extemporaneous?" Replied Webster:
"Young man, there is no such thing as extemporan-
eous acquisition." " The materials for that speech
had been in my mind for eighteen months." Such
was the fact. The subject had been carefully studied
for another expected emergency. That occasion did
not come, and those papers were laid away as labor
lost. But such toil is never wasted. Watch over the
right with sleepless eye. Equip yourself for her de-
fense, on the first suspicion of peril. Though the alarm
prove false, and you unbuckle your armor unused,
that armor is consecrated to holy service. It will
hang without tarnishing, in the temple of truth. You
shall prove it in battle some other day. Said the
orator: "When Hayne took the floor, if he had tried
to make a speech to fit those old notes of mine, he
could not have hit it better." " No man is inspired
with the occasion."

Let us open another biography, rich in kindred
instruction: Again we enter a lawyer's office. The

198 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES'

student has left his note-book on the table. Turn to
the first page and read the words of Coke: '''Holding
this for an undoubted verity, that there is no knowl-
edge, case, or point in law, seem it of never so little
account, but will stand our student in stead, at one
time or other." And again : "A lawyer must know
everything. He must know law, history, philosophy,
human nature; and, if he courts the fame of an ad-
vocate, he must drink of all the springs of litera-
ture, giving ease and elegance to the mind, and illus-
tration to whatever subject it touches."

This is the key-note of a career illustrious in Am-
erican history. Is there any flatting in the tone?
Strike again the text with its silver tines: " There is
that scattereth, and yet increaseth." We are still in
tune.

Thus opens the way to a chair, as associate in-
structor with a Greenleaf and a Story. But the youth
cannot rest easy, even there. He starts up, restless,
with visions of " Men, society, courts and parlia-
ments." His thoughts will take wing from quiet
Cambridge, now to Paris, now to London, now to
Rome. He must go and know. He must meet, face
to face, those whose word is law, in the realms of
art, literature and politics. Friends remonstrate.
President Quincy tells him that Europe will spoil
him, sending him home with a mustache and a
cane." But his resolution is inflexible. Wonderful
is the story of the reception given everywhere upon
the continent, to this young republican, as yet un-
known to fame. There has been nothing else like it in
our annals. He returns. For two years he does noth-
ing. He seems surfeited. His friends are distressed.
His life, say they, is to be a splendid failure. For

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH" 199

three years more, they watch the case with only trif-
ling encouragement. But, across the sea, in the
very midst of that old world bewilderment, a big
idea had entered a big brain. There, was first re-
vealed to Charles Sumner the dim outlines of "The
True Grandeur of Nations." It took six years to
give it distinctness and full possession of the soul.
Then dawned July 4th, 1845. And the man broke
the silence, and the republic and the world clapped
hands. That oration was to Charles Sumner, what
the reply to Hayne was to Webster. Each proved
the decisive effort of a life-time. Each gave its au-
thor immortality.

For the present purpose it is needless to continue
these biographies, Thus far they furnish happy
^illustrations of the doctrine of the text, in the lower
zone of its application. They show us how the
words, " There is that scattereth, andyetincreaseth,"
in their majestic sweep take in such mere worldly
success as is noblest. These examples are not caught
up at random, but are chosen with a definite end
in view. .

It is manifest to one who studies the present drift
of college life, that our youth are attracted more
and more toward law, which, in turn, becomes
the stepping stone to political power. Patriotism
says, put the destinies of the country into the hands
of men of the most liberal culture, men who have
been schooled from boyhood to sacrifice the present
for the future, the expedient for the true, the tran-
sient for the permanent. It is to be more and more
the mission of the American college to furnish, not
only ministers of church, but also ministers of state.
Her office in the first capacity has often been lauded

20O SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

most worthily. The suggestion, to-night, of the dig-
nity of her calling in the second direction, needs no
apology. Let, then, our young men who are aspir-
ing to public station, learn to "scatter" like a Webster
or a Sumner, that such may be the increase.

Thus far all has been praise. To say no more,
however, would leave a false impression. We are
not at liberty to call up the shades of the great de-
parted, and dismiss them with fulsome panegyric.

We have, up to this point, been walking on the
plane of what the godless world would call success.
On that level there has been nothing to censure.
Thus the kings of men get their crowns. But there
is a higher realm of spiritual excellence where the
crowns are incorruptible, and when these two famous
diplomatists are put on trial there, they are found
found wanting. They cease to be an example.
They become a warning.

Webster's view of the divine majesty was exceed-
ingly noble. In hours of retirement he sometimes
seemed to stand, as it were, in the very shadow of
Jehovah. There was then a dignity in his utterance
to which ordinary speech is a stranger. Said Im-
manuel Kant: "Two things fill me with awe, the
starry heavens, and the sense of moral responsibility
in man." To such a sentiment the orator was ready
to bow his head, and respond with a reverent Amen.
It is easy to picture him, waiting as an august em-
bassador in the outer court of the Almighty, ready to
read some great state paper at the foot of the throne.
There is no occasion to criticise his attitude, when he
appears face to face with God. Banish the world
from sight, then catechise him concerning the attri-
butes of the Most High, and you would find no fault

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH." 2OI

with the upper outlook of his creed. But that was
the sum and substance of his religion. It was only
a thing of the clouds, a gifted Lucifer's passing
dream, vanishing before the seductions of carnality
and the terrible strain of that presidential ambition,
which tantalized till death.

Webster's enthusiasm for self killed his enthusiasm
for humanity, and the Nones of March were to him
as the Ides of March were to Caesar. An exalted
intellectual conception of God is well; but it will
not atone for trampling on the rights of the hum-
blest man.

Sumner, on the contrary, never proved false to the
rights of man. His heart remained true to his kind.
With him it was the upper outlookthat was obscured.
Let him speak for himself: " Ido not think that I
have a basis for faith to build upon. I seldom refer
my happiness to the Great Father from whose mercy
it is derived. Of the first great commandment, then,
upon which so much hangs, I live in perpetual uncon-
sciousness" A life-long service in the cause of lib-
erty, is well, but it will not atone for insolently waiv-
ing the claims of a Heavenly Father's love.

I have wished to make emph'atic the political bear-
ing of the doctrine, seeking, 'both by the commend-
ation and the condemnation : of two illustrious ex-
amples, to present the ideal statesman, not as he has
been, not as he is, but as he shall be, when love to
God and love to man have recognition as the common
law of government on earth..

This will explain what might seem an undue promi-
nence to one division of the 'sermon. There is this
additional advantage in -'such a treatment of the sub-

2O2 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ject : the examples held up before you so long are
remarkable for scope of illustration. They ray out
in all directions. They enlighten the whole province
of truth covered by the text, so that it is unnecessary
to expand the thought with equal pains in other de-
partments. A single suggestion will enable the mind
to pass rapidly and easily from vocation to vocation,
till the compass of the idea is seen to be universal.
" There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth."

Take the principle into business. Thus princely
fortunes are made. The trading posts of an Astor
are "scattered " from the Hudson to the Columbia.
The steamers of a Vanderbilt go ploughing up and
down the Gulf Stream, while the long fingers of that
iron hand are thrust out to find the very heart of
the continent. So far, imitate. Thus a world's re-
sources are to be developed. But what did either
millionaire care for God or for man? And what does
God or man care for either of them to-day?

In the department of literary criticism, the two
brighest names of the century are Macaulay and
Sainte Beuve. How far-reaching is the plan of the
former, when he decides to become a public censor.
He would be impartial in judgment. But his fortune
is humble, and he recognizes the danger of being
warped in his estimates by pecuniary considera-
tions. So, bidding adieu to country, and all
thoughts of early fame, he sails for distant India, to
gain there a competence that he may be independent
of party and above suspicion of servility. That was
a weary "scattering," but it is all forgotten as you
read this tribute to his memory: "Macaulay never
wrote a line that would degrade honor, or liberty, or

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH" 203

virtue." Why could he not have kept down
that monstrous egotism, that great I Am, that always
seemed to walk between him and a still greater " I
Am," and to make him utterly oblivious of the
thoughts and feelings of other mortals ?

You will find nothing more admirable of its kind,
than the literary workmanship of a Sainte Beuve,.
both in exhaustive research and fineness of finish..
There was no province too remote for his thought to.
explore. No shining sentence might go forth to the
world so long as diamond dust would add to its lus-
tre. Yet, though the most discriminating critic of
the masters of pulpit eloquence, he had no knowl-
edge of Jehovah, and died and was buried as a
heathen.

It is possible to live thus, just above man, and just
below God.

The tiny fingers of a child of five grasp an artist's
pencil. Through the day the boy sits alone in his
little room, studying, marking, erasing, and at eve-
ning takes down in triumph to his father, the picture
of an African lion. It is the beginning of a notable
career. From that time the child roams over the
fields, not like his fellows, chasing butterflies, but
catching after colors which float on wings of light.
Or, when his young feet weary in following the evan-
escent, he casts himself upon the shore and rests,
dreaming such dreams as are only ocean-born,
dreams such as Homer knew, when he sang of the
"many-voiced sea."

As time passes on, you may follow the man with
his note-book and staff all over Britain and Europe.
Thus, for fifty years, does his genius, with pillar of

204 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

cloud and pillar of fire, lead him up and down the
world, to the land of the artist's vision. "There is
that scattereth and yet increaseth." So it is written
on the canvas of William Turner, the chief of land-
scape painters.

But what of the character behind the canvas?
Through life, it seems like that of Sir Walter Scott,
belittled, degraded by avarice; yet when the seal
of his will is broken, and all those savings
are found to be left for the benefit of needy
brethren in his profession, even such .restricted
love for his kind, casts a softening light over
what appeared repulsive. Surely through the
sustaining power of a purpose so noble he
may die with a song. Look 'upon him, however,
as he lies, week after week, alone and melancholy,
watching the ever-flowing river, the ever-disappear-
ing sails, the ever-varying clouds. These have been
the joy of his imagination: but what are river, and
. sail, and cloud, to the soul that for seventy-five years
has, in the glories of creation, forgotten the glory of
the Creator?

Pass, now, from art to science. By many, the
scientist is looked upon as nothing but a blasphemous
Shimei, casting stones at the Lord's Anointed. He
is often spoken of, as if his modern prominence were
due only to the notoriety which springs from oppo-
sition to written revelation. There are good men who
never think of measuring John Tyndall by anything
but a prayer gauge. Let them, however, forget for the
time this theological odium, and study his work in
his own domain. His patient research is enough to
put to the blush the bold assumptions and hasty
generalizations of many who claim high rank as re-

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH." 205

ligious priests and prophets and sages. Follow him
through all that tedious and, seemingly, blind exper-
imenting, to get at the exact truth, no matter what
the cost, no matter though it may bring down in
ruins the fair structure of previous speculations, and
compel him to begin all over again. Such "scatter-
ing" gives increase. Confining the view to the
material world, the century has not produced a more
shining name. In the domain of sight, the world has
no more wonderful seer. But to the yet higher do-
main of faith, he has never found the way. I make
no reference to those grosser attacks upon a belief
which is infinitely precious to such as love to bend
the knee and say: "Our Father who art in heaven."

Simply contrast the peace of the Christian, in the
communion of the still hour, in the felt presence of
God, and the unrest which the quick ear may detect
in the musings of the materialist, on the mountain
top, face to face with the clouds. "Did yonder
formless fog contain, potentially, the sadness with
which I regarded the Matterhorn? Did the thought
which now ran back to it, simply return to its
primeval home?"

Misguided philosopher ! The primeval home thereof
is not in the nebulae, but in that personal God, in
whom you live and move and have your being.

I must not weary you by unduly lengthening this
chain of illustration. Let theology close the circuit.
Four years in college, three years in the seminary;
how can I wait so long? Such is too often the ex-
clamation of the boy whose heart turns toward the
pulpit. The present may well listen to the past. A
youth has made the cross his banner. He has com-
pleted the common course in the college of his

206 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

native town. But there is no unseemly haste to
minister at the altar. We read awhile ago, upon the
standard of another, the prophetic words: "Men,
society, courts and parliaments." But upon the cross
of this one there is a strange inscription: "A God,
a Christ, a bishop, a king." That he may realize an
ideal so grand, ten other years are devoted to la-
borious study of theology, and to preparation for
speaking on sacred themes. And, by and by, the
king gives him audience, and bishop's robes await
him, and the love of a Christ and the majesty of a
God are the inspiration of his tongue. ' Scattering
and increase ! " It is Bossuet, the greatest pulpit
orator of France. Another has said that on the fly-
leaf of his noblest discourses you may read:
"Preached before the king." Suggestive words!
They tell a double story. The conception is high.
Speak royally, so that Louis Fourteenth and his
brilliant court shall hear.

But there is a higher conception. " Preached be-
fore the king!" Yes, the Thorn-crowned, whose su-
preme test of pulpit excellence is this: "The poor
have the gospel preached unto them."

Webster, Sumner, Astor, Vanderbilt, Macaulay,
Sainte Beuve, Turner, Tyndall, Bossuet, monu-
mental men, in politics, business, literature, art,
science and theology, but unfinished structures, all,
with broad and solid earthly foundation, and differ-
ing altitude, some displaying little more . than a
massive base, some half complete, some lacking only
the capital.

A broken column is in itself a sermon. We get in-
struction from what is, and from what is not. The
mind feels the tangible, and then the imagination

"SCATTERETH YET INCREASETH." 2O 1 ]

runs the visible up into the invisible, and though
we turn away saying:

" Of all the sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these, it might have been,"

still the lesson is most impressive, pervasive and
abiding.

FAITH.
"And now abideth faith." I Corinthians xiii : 13.

I happened to be "on change" in Chicago one day
when the wheat market went to pieces, creating
great excitement.

With a commission merchant, I watched the
course of events. In the general babel, there seemed
to be nothing to hold men to their contracts, except
an interjection, a nod, an outstretched finger or
fingers, and a pencil mark upon a card. Said I to
my friend: "In this wild confusion of profit and
loss, are the safe-guards sufficient? Will there not
be disputes and wranglings over alleged blunders,
and misunderstandings?" " No," he replied, "such
things rarely occur. Mutual interest compels us to>
regard every nod, gesture and entry, as we would a
bond in court. The moment it is admitted that faith
may be broken here, this whole system of exchange
goes down in ruins."

With that answer there flashed upon me a new
view of that old subject, faith. * Thence comes the
sermon this morning. Even where we look for her
least, Faith appears, and, furthermore, she does not
come as a transient guest. She establishes her home
and remains there. In a great association, made up
mainly of honorable men, but embracing not a few,,
whose honesty is secured solely by self-interest,
there has to be one steadying, unifying principle, to
prevent the dissolution of the organization.

That principle is abiding faith. That magnificent

FAITH.

2(X)>

building, where fortunes are constantly made and
lost, where nothing seetns secure, where the weak
and the strong meet for the struggle, where too often
the loss of the one is the gain of the other, where
too often the fall of the former is the rise of the
latter, where day by day men are wild with excite-
ment; rent, torn with a craze for wealth, like those
possessed by the evil spirit that, magnificent build-
ing, apparently fit for a shrine of , unrighteous
Mammon only, proves to be a temple which must be
kept sacred to Faith, also, or stand empty and deso-
late. ' '" v '

There is no other place in the world which seems
so pervaded with an atmosphere of insecurity, dis-
trust, selfish greed, recklessness, and wild chance
utterly regardless of any rational law of supply and
demand, as the merchants' exchange in a great city;
Yet, after all, paradoxical as it may sound, a board
of trade would be an impossibility, but for an ever-
abiding faith among its members. Wall street would
vanish should Faith, in utter disgust and despair
over what she is compelled to witness, abandon the
world.

The same principle rules all departments of busi-
ness. Banks can not be conducted without it. Free
banking rests on the belief that the issue of bills will
be kept within a safe ratio to cash and available as-
sets. Our national banking system rests on a general
confidence, that the government will make herself
and her people financially safe. Whenever a man
offers a deposit, and receives only a ticket or a book
entry, his act is an act of faith. As he leans upon the
counter, that counter is an altar of faith between the
contracting 'parties. Whenever you buy a draft,.

2IO SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

there is a double testimony. You declare your con-
fidence in the banker and the banker declares his
confidence in his New York or London corres-
pondent.

Say what we will about cheating and swindling- in
buying and selling, though the practice is shamefully
common, there does prevail a substantial faith be-
tween -the great body of merchants and customers.
Though the former may adopt the cash system, they
find themselves compelled to give credit, more or
less, every day. Though the latter may profess to
have no confidence in a salesman's statements, there
is scarcely a purchase which has not been expedited
by the salesman's representations. Notwithstanding
all the knavery of the world, notwithstanding the
numerous impositions to which we are constantly
subjected, there is an ever-enduring faith of man in
man. It is in the blood. It will stay. So strong is
this propensity, that no matter how many times we
have been deceived, we can not help believing, just
once more.

Even stronger is the tendency in man to believe in
woman, and in woman to believe in man. Secret and
open iniquities do abound. Scandals fill the public
prints. Low life and high life reek with uncleanness.
But each sex will cling to its faith in the other,
though it may grow skeptical of all else on earth.
Such is God's law written in the heart of hearts.

Destroy the faith of man in man and you paralize
trade, you stop the wheels of exchange, you prostrate
commerce, you spread financial ruin everywhere.

Destroy the faith of man and woman in each
other and you profane the holy of holies. Home

FAITH. 211

goes. Society goes. Government goes. Barbarism
and anarchy take possession of the world.

Now, our faith in one another and our faith in God
are bound to stand or fall, together. When we give
up our confidence in the Creator's image, we are far
on the road to giving up our confidence in the
Creator himself. When belief in the Father whom
we have not seen, vanishes, belief in the brother
whom we have seen is doomed to destruction. The
German atheist very consistently recognized this
fact when he declared that the object of his so-called
science was: "To destroy all ideals and to show that
the belief in God is a fraud, that morality, equality,
freedom, love and the rights of man are lies."

After Professor Clifford's spasmodic efforts to
write God with a little g and humanity with a capital
H, we find him asserting at last that men may all be
made "cut-throats for money."

Then, as we love the world, let faith remain, faith
in man, faith in God.

Transfer the thought, next, from business, home
and society, to science. It is a very common claim
that science does all her walking by sight, none by
faith. But this is a great mistake. Take those ma-
terialistic philosophers, who scoff most loudly at the
doctrine. Said Lionel Beale, as president of the Royal
Microscopical Society " It would indeed be difficult
many other department of ;human knowledge to find
anything to equal the extravagance of the hypotheses
recently advanced, concerning living matter and its
properties." So true is it, that the worst victims of
credulity are those who boast that they have ab-
jured all faith. When a man makes a great parade
of skepticism, you may expect from him in the

212 SERMONS AND. ADDRESSES.

next breath the wildest assumptions, unsupported by
a single fact. Arid the most amusing part of the
performance will be his perfect ignorance of the
spectacle which he is exhibiting. Just in proportion
as genuine faith is driven out, in comes its counter-
feit, credulity. The most preposterous things that
we are coolly asked to accept, are the speculations
of those who. are intolerant of beliefs which have
been cherished since the dawn of history.

This shows that the characteristic in question is
imbedded in the human constitution so deeply that
you can not get rid of the former without destroying
the latter. It is one 'of the few things that stay for-
ever. The wisest science, that which has brought
most abundant blessing to mankind, has always rev-
erently and joyfully accepted this principle, and
made it the source of inspiration to effort.

The astronomer's telescope pointing heavenward
to find the undiscovered star which must be there, has
always been one of faith's most impressive witnesses.
Were it not for his unfailing trust in the supremacy
of constant laws, amid a thousand wonderful trans-
formations, the chemist would abandon hisresearches
and quit the laboratory.

In short, not one of the inductive sciences is pos-
sible, except as faith abideth.

This principle is also most beneficent in literature.
Thenovelists and thepoetsbf largest faith have given
the world the wholesomest food and the sweetest
benediction. I am speaking now with the freer
sense, not insisting upon the creeds and dogmas of
any church or churches. George Eliot has less in-
fluence than she had a few years ago. Why? Be-
cause of that strain of unfaith which comes up as an

FAITH.

213

undertone from whatever she wrote. It depresses.
People say: this is all strangely fascinating, but
there is that about it which leaves us with a sense of
hopelessness. It is beauty, but it is hectic beauty.
Give, us something more robust. Lungs that take in
plenty' of 'oxygen, and blow disease out of the blood,
and make cheeks plump and rosy, and voice exult-
ant with faith, and an eye that brightens toward the
invisible!

That other woman, who not long ago, was trying
to roll back the stone to the. door of the sepulchre
of Christ, and to seal it fast with the stamp of her
genius, could do. nothing more than win a year
of notoriety by such profanation of the tomb of
Him who is risen. .

The seer who. believeth all. things, sings the song
that wins the world's heart, and insures immortality.
Listen to two representative voices from modern
poetry:

" The sea of faith

Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating to the 'breath '
Of the night wind, down the vast edges drear,
And naked shingles of the world."

This wail of unbelief is prophetic of Matthew
Arnold's waning fame. * * *

" If e'er when faith had fallen asleep,
1 heard a voice, BELIEVE NO MORE!
And heard an ever breaking, shore
That tumbled in the Godless deep,
A warmth within the breast would melt
The freezing season's colder part;

214 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

And, like a man in wrath, the heart
Stood up, and answered, I HAVE FELT."

This undaunted strain will give Tennyson a hear-
ing in the millennium.

Still it is the fashion, now-a-days, in some literary
circles, to canonize Thomas, the doubting apostle,
to set him up as the patron saint, in the temple of
mind. But who would ever have heard of Thomas,
had it not been for his associates, the heroes of the
faith, who have brought him along down the ages in
their company?

It is a bad blunder to suppose that doubt is the
trade-mark of genius. I was sorry to hear, not long
ago, concerning an able young man, that he had
been captivated by this foolish notion; that he was
a pronounced agnostic; that he took special pride
in the fact; that he was training himself to speak of
faith with the most studied contempt, and to make
doubt his guiding star for the future. As if faith

were not

" The master-light of all our seeing."

It would do no good for a minister to remonstrate
with that young man; for the latter would take the
words as only so much shop talk. But, from his
own standpoint, he ought to give weight to the re-
gretful testimony of Niebuhr, the great apostle of
modern destructive criticism; who, in his maturer
years, deplored the skeptical spirit which he had
cultivated until it had become a second nature; and
who declared that it should be his first object to
train his son to faith, as the one thing constant.

Yet, in deploring a pert, flippant, conceited affec-
tation of skepticism, we should not lose our sympa-
thy with those whose doubts cost them the deepest

FAITH. 215

anguish of spirit. We may agree with such a sufferer
that "God" is a great word. He who feels and under-
stands that, will judge more mildly and justly of those
who confess that they dare not say that they believe
in God. There are moments in our life when those
who seek most earnestly after God, think they are
forsaken of God; when they hardly venture to ask
themselves: Do I believe a God, or do I not?
Let them not despair, and let us not judge harshly
of them. Their despair may be better than many
so-called creeds.

Still, while we look upon such men with respect for
their sincerity, we regard them with more compas-
sion than admiration. The combination of spiritual
greatness and spiritual weakness excites .the pro-
foundest pity. Those who exhaust themselves thus,,
in their own internal conflicts, have little strength
left to help their fellow men; few words of cheer
fora "creation thatgroaneth and tfavaileth in pain."
Contrast the depression when you hear such a con-
fession of semi-despair, and the exhilaration when
you listen to Paul's description of the victories of
faith, in the eleventh chapter of Hebrews.

Unbelief is pulpy, flabby, nerveless. Belief is
muscular. It grips. It grasps. It throbs with mo-
mentum. It rolls the tides.

Skepticism lacks esprit de corps. She talks grand-
iloquently; but she rears no temples in honor of her
apostles.

Lick, the California millionaire, wanted to build
a splendid monument to Tom Paine, but far-seeing
friends persuaded him, that, if he would immortalize
himself, he must lay his foundations, not on the
shifting sands of infidelity, but on the bed-rock of

2l6 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

faith. And so that money has gone to establish an
astronomical observatory, and to set up the largest
telescope in the world, that the heavens may more
abundantly declare the glory of that very God whom
silly Tom Paine thought to dethrone.

FAITH ABIDETH.

Faith is the radical principle in Christianity. Re-
ligious life begins in it, and is impossible without
it. Like the root -of the tree, it works in the dark-
ness and deals with the invisible. It is as prepos-
terous to claim that you must see how faith rears and
sustains character, as it would be to claim that you
must, see how the roots rear and sustain the elm
yonder.

Moreover faith works silently. Do not expect to
hear it. As wisely might you go to the foot of the
oak and, put your ear to the ground, to ascertain
what was going on below the surface. All is still as
ghost-land; and yet there are a thousand literal sap-
pers and miners busy pushing out in every direction;
a thousand fibrous rootlets, greedily honey-combing
the earth for hidden sweets, that with them they may
refresh the monarch of the forest.

Now, whenever you look upon a grand Christian
you may know that his soul is fed, just as that oak
is fed, from faith's secret laboratory. Faith, by a
sort of divine instinct, seizes and appropriates what
she wants most, what will give richest life. Bury
some bones on one side of a grape-vine, and go there
two or three years afterward, and you will find the
roots on that side densely matted, round and sleek;
those on the other side few, lean and shriveled.
Faith, blind and dumb, keeps groping around until

FAITH. 217

it touches what suits it necessities, and then you can
scarcely tear it from its feast.

But suppose that instead of bones, you bury a
block of granite. The roots of your vine can get
no nourishment from that; still they turn it to ac-
count. They feel their way around and encompass
it with network, and cling to it with such tenacity
that a giant could not pull up the vine. Give faith
a stone instead of bread, and it will utilize the stone.
There are some hard experiences which the Christian
can not draw much life from, but faith clasps them
round, down in the darkness, and so they help the
man to stand the storm; they hold him steady when
the hurricane sweeps by.

The same lesson comes directly from human life.
Here is a boy that never has a day-dream, never
sees anything which is not painted on the retina.
Give him Aladdin's lamp and he would sell it to the
highest bidder. You can not make him believe in
what he can not see with his eyes, and touch with
his hands. Talk to him of things that lie out far-
ther, up higher, and you plunge him into hopeless
bewilderment. But here is another child who will
sit upon you knee by the hour, in open-eyed won-
der, drinking in whatever you tell him. Stretch your
imagination as you may, nothing is too marvelous
for him to believe. Fairy-land is his home. Shin-
ing possibilities ever beckon him on. Nature's
voices speak to him out of space. Solitude is
thronged for him with ten thousand friendly forms.
He feels, though he may not be able to word them,

" Those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings:

2l8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Blank misgivings of a creature
Moving about in worlds not realized."

This is the one, that, by and by, will write the
songs of the nation, or be to it prophet, or priest,
or king. The first child is the type of the skeptic.
The second child is the type of the believer. He
only who listens in the spirit of the latter to
the revelations of God, can become great in the
kingdom of heaven.

Some periods of history are characterized by un-
belief; others by belief. "We shall go down into
the black valley, where we shall hear no more hal-
lelujahs." Thus was voiced the despair of the Dark
Ages.

Let us climb the Mount of Transfiguration, where
under the open heaven, we may talk wi^i Moses,
and Elias, and the Son of God, is the exultant cry,
already half-articulate upon the lips of the oncom-
ing twentieth century. That century is your cen-
tury, young ladies and gentlemen. Anticipate its
spirit. Unbelief is transient. Belief is permanent.
Skepticism ends in confusion of face and undying
shame. But faith abideth, now and forever.

Yes, now, as well -as forever. Put emphasis there.
The tense is present. Do not let the doctrine go
ballooning away among the stars. Tie the thought
down to this lower sphere; assert the continuity be-
tween the earthly life and the heavenly. Paul was
often caught up into the seventh heaven by his fiery
fancy; but he never lost sight of this world, and of
the relation of time to eternity. Listen: -

" By faith, Abraham, when he was called to go
out into a place which he should afterward receive for

FAITH.

219

an inheritance, obeyed. And he went out, not know-
ing whither he went"

That was all very human. There is in it a common
every-day, worldly sound, which comes home to your
heart and to mine. The old worthy may have had
some passing glimpse of a New Jerusalem, which
should descend out of heaven, by and by, across his
path; but that which mainly filled the horizon of
anticipation was an earthly Canaan, that lay some-
where out there in the unknown. " He went, not
knowing whither he went;" yes, but the faith prin-
ciple, that which God puts into the soul "to abide,"
kept saying: Forward ! Place ! Inheritance ! Every
fine fellow who has set his heart upon the noblest
success, takes the meaning and, on the instant,
across the centuries/recognizes his kinship with
Abraham.

Garfield knew not, and yet did know, whither he
went, when he opened the academy door in Chester
that morning, in the fall of '49, with only a sixpence
in his pocket. And when, the next day at church,
that sixpence went into the contribution plate, Faith
was there. And as, at odd hours and on Saturdays,
he looked up jobs of carpentering, Faith fol-
lowed him in the quest. And, as he boarded him-
self on thirty-one cents a week, Faith abode with
him, making that coarse fare sweet. And then, at
the end of the term, Faith pointed to the sixpence,
and lo ! it had turned to three silver dollars, as some
solid "substance of things hoped for."

The old story makes us no promise of a Canaan,
as an inheritance. The modern story is not the
pledge of a White House by and by. But Faith,

22O SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

"abideth" still, here, now, for you and for me, as we
keep going out we know not whither. Therefore,
trustfully, lovingly and enthusiastically, once more
we commit our way unto thee, O Lord!

"KEEP THIS MAN."

" Thy servant went out into, the midst of the battle: and be-
hold a man turned aside, and brought a man unto me, and said:
keep this man; if by any means he be missing, then shall thy
life be for his life, or else thou shalt pay a talent of silver.
And as thy servant was busy here and there, he was gone."
I Kings xx : 39, 40.

The context has been read in your hearing. The
narrative teaches the general truth, that, however
repugnant to our feelings, the duty which God re-
quires of us must be performed.

In harmony with this universal doctrine, the para-
ble contained in the text inculcates a more specific
lesson, which shall be our study this morning. The
view dissolves. Instead of the plains of Aphek,
where the battle was fought between the host of
Syria and the children of Israel, appear the peaceful
scenes amid which we are dwelling. Instead of a
stranger bringing us a captive for punishment, comes
our best friend, committing to our care an acquaint-
ance, whom we are bidden to shield from eternal
harm. This acquaintance we are commanded to
to keep in safety, under grievous penalty, in case of
failure. How are we discharging our sacred trust?
Keep this man safe. But is he not a free agent? Yes.
Is he not accountable for himself? Yes. Is not
his destiny in his own hands? Yes. Can he
not thwart all my efforts? Yes. Have I over him
any power of moral compulsion? Not absolutely,
and yet the command is absolute, KEEP THIS MAN
SAFE. You are never at liberty to relax your watch-

222 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

fulness over him. When he shows signs of solici-
tude, strive to deepen that anxiety. Should he be
stolid and indifferent, with loving patience set before
him his danger. If he grows reckless and defiant,
cast yourself between him and self-destruction.
Study every changing mood, adapt yourself to varied
situations, convince him that nothing this side of
death shall diminish your vigilance, and that, if he
will rush to ruin, it shall be by trampling under feet
your counsels, your warnings, your tearful entreaties.
Such devotion is the nearest possible approach to
compulsion. It often brings salvation. When it
fails, you are guiltless. How few of us thus keep
our brother ! * * This man is in danger from him-
self. He has appetites and passions, which conspire
for his destruction. He may be ignorant of his peril.
He needs some one to make him a faithful study,
and then to reveal him to himself, and to
show him in loving confidence the maelstrom
whose outer circle he has entered. The case
demands human tact, and wisdom from above,
in rare combination. A minister never faces an au-
dience like this, without seeing some countenance
which starts the question: who will save that man
from himself? The class-mate, or the room-mate,
or the business associate, or the nearest neighbor is
the one who most clearly understands the situation,
and who best commands the avenues of approach.
Will he have the moral courage to do his duty?
Will he dare to say to the imperiled soul, "My dear
sir, you are your own worst enemy in disguise. Your
carnal desires obscure your mental vision and en-
feeble your will. You are committing moral suicide.

STOP."

"KEEP THIS MAN." 22 3

Or, the man may be in danger from others. In
good company, or, even if left to himself, he would
be true to his better nature, at least he would not fall
into outrageous sins. But his love for society, in it-
self commendable, puts him into the power of his as-
sociates. They hurry him from transgression to
transgression, without giving him time to rally for
resistance. How quickly badness recognizes its nat-
ural victim, and how swifty it rushes to the accom-
plishment of its purpose! Save this man from the
foes who wear the garb of friendship. It is often
harder to warn one against companions, than it is to
warn him against himself. He will attribute your
. course to jealousy of their influence, and cling to
them the closer. You shrink from this charge of un-'
dermining others. You feel that you can scarcely
escape the stigma of meanness. It takes a big heart,
to forget all this, to remember only the peril of your
brother, and to thrust yourself bravely between him
and those who are leading him to ruin.

But again, it is not sufficient, in such a case, to
break up old associations. To keep this man safe,
you must fortify him round about with good com-
panionship. He is weak. It is not his nature, to
make his own standard, and conform to its require-
ments. He borrows his moral ideals, and looks to
others for help in their realization. In impatience
and contempt, you want to say: "Now that he has
been delivered from vicious surroundings, let him
henceforth assert his independence, if he will not do
that, he is not worth saving. But, did you ever re-
flect how few would be saved, if that principle were
made universal? Would any of us dare to say:
"Take away religious environment, remove the helps

224 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

to righteousness on every side; break up and scatter
the Christian circle in the center of which I stand,.
I am abundantly able to work out my own salva-
tion?" May God deliver us from such fool-hardi-
ness! Let no one despise these blessed influences
which inspire us toward the attainment of holiness.
The odds are fearfully against any man who is left
standing alone. When God says: "save this man."
he means, "so encompass him with all forms of lov-
ing watchfulness, that it shall be well nigh impossi-
ble for him to break through them, and return to
his old surroundings."

BUT, IF HE BE MISSING? "Then shall thy life be
for his life, or else thou shalt pay a talent of silver."
Through the letter, read the spirit of the text. We
are not taught, either here, or elsewhere in the Word of
God, that if we fail in duty to our brother, our life
shall be forfeited with his, but we are threatened
with serious loss. Failure to discharge the lesser
trusts here, will debar us from the larger trusts of
the hereafter. The same principle works in earthly
and in heavenly affairs. We cannot escape the law
of probation, in this world, or in any other world,
In every calling, there is going on a process of se-
lection. Those who are found faithful in lower posi-
tions are bidden to go up higher. Those who are
recreant to duty, are made to give way to such as
have borne the tests of inferior station. Accident,
or favoritism, may put a man into the wrong place,
and may keep him there awhile, but time will finally
rectify the blunder. Nepotism is too expensive, to
become very prevalent amid the fierce competitions
of modern life. It supports, here and there, an or-
namental figure-head, but every business is obliged

"KEEP THIS MAN." 22$

to sift, and sort, and grade, and pay, according to
proved efficiency and the natural expectations thus
excited.

Tacitus crushes the crown of one of the Roman
emperors with a single blow, when he exclaims
"capax imperii, nisi imperasset." A man who would
always have been thought fit for the throne, if only
he had never ascended the throne! Such a stunning
verdict is just, now and then, in the high places of
responsibility in all vocations, but it is the rarity of the
instances which makes them so conspicuous. The
appointing power in great corporations is too care-
ful of its capital, to risk it, without most searching
investigation into the capacity and fidelity of those
who are to have its management. You have often
heard it said, that the affairs of our railroads are
chiefly in the hands of the nephews, cousins and
brothers-in-law of the directors. But, usually, the di-
rectors are the largest stockholders, and stockhold-
ers are not very likely to risk their own stock, in the
hands of their incompetent kinsfolk, for relation-
ship's sake. Examine the pay-rolls of our best rail-
ways, and you will not find them filled with the
names of incompetents, put there and kept there, on
account of their blood. The places of responsibility
are occupied by those who have been tried, and
never found wanting.

I was talking about this one day with a railroad
superintendent, who began as a brakeman. He
scouted the notion that the managers of such corpo-
rations considered it their main business to support a
retinue of relatives in the offices of the line. He
declared that from the first time he sprang to his
post, on the whistle of "down brakes," he had found

226 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

somebody on the lookout, to call him up higher, as
fast as he was fit to go. The people who talk loudest
about nepotism in business are usually those who
have lost situations through incapacity or negligence.
Depend upon it that the capital invested in the
gigantic enterprises of manufactures, trade, trans-
portation and commerce is inquiring for brains, and
not for pedigrees. A business syndicate which should
make the care of poor relations its first law must
. presently find itself in the hands of a receiver. In
all this there is no hardness of heart. It is the only
way to keep the world from universal bankruptcy.
Thus is made the money to take care of the various
poor relations that we encounter everywhere.

Now Christ teaches, both by parable and directly,
that God recognizes the same principle in spiritual
affairs. He carries on the enterprises of His king-
dom through human agents, and conditions promo-
tion on faithfulness to trust. To him that hath is
given. From him that hath not is taken that which he
seemeth to have. He that is faithful over a few
things is made ruler over many things. The analogy
between the method of worldly business and the
method of religious business usually holds good even
in the present life. God picks his men for the. ac-
complishment of -his purposes, just as would any
wise human manager of complicated interests.
Favoritism and spiritual good luck have no part in
the administration of these grand affairs. He who
keeps his brother, finds brethren multiplying, for him
to keep. He who does not keep his brother, loses
further opportunity.

This law of time passes over and becomes the law
of eternity. Its importance there is measured by the

"KEEP THIS MAN." 22*]

comparative length of time and eternity. The lan-
guage of Revelation concerning the employments of
the future life is highly figurative.

We may speculate as to their nature, but all that is
clearly made known is, that there will be blessed
activities, and that men will be assigned their re-
spective parts according to fitness made manifest during
mortal probation. He who will not keep his brother
safe on. earth has proved his unworthiness of any of
the larger trusts of heaven, of whatsoever sort they
be. There is a wide-spread and mischievous notion
that if we can only gain entrance to the abodes of
bliss it is of no special importance in what condition
we secure admission. Doubtless, the chief question
is, acceptance or rejection. That is the issue which
must, in every case, be made first and settled first.

But, after that point is decided, which is presumed
in the present discussion, it concerns us deeply to
inquire what will be the comparative loss from relig-
ious negligence, and the comparative gain from re-
ligious faithfulness. In this view, greatly to be de-
plored is any present remissness in duty, which, even
in a slight degree, contracts the horizon of oppor-
tunity for the endless ages. This should not excite
any suspicion of arbitrariness on the part of God.
We know that he will confide to our keeping forever
.all that we have shown that we can be trusted with.
Nothing less and nothing more would precisely sat-
isfy the moral sense of mankind. When we read
that they who turn many to righteousness shall
.shine as the stars in the brightness of the firmament,
we say, that is as it should be. But, if it were added,
he that did not keep his brother on earth, shall also

228 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

shine as brightly, we should say just as decidedly,
that would not be as it should be.

Still, objects some one, though I admit that one
star should differ from another star in glory, it
seems to me that the consciousness of opportunity
lost forever must fill one with unavailing regret and
thus mar his happiness in heaven. The objection is
natural and plausible. But, upon inspection, the
difficulty becomes insignificant. As a young man,
you had an opportunity to invest a little money in
Minneapolis or Chicago. If you had only done so
you might be to-day a millionaire. Your resources
for honor, usefulness and happiness would be vastly
increased, still that fact does not disturb your seren-
ity, does not becloud life with unavailing regret.
From the other life one may look back to the scenes
of time; he may clearly discern neglected oppor-
tunities, he may know that through letting them
slip he has lost many chances for heavenly prefer-
ment, and still suffer no positive unhappiness from
the situation. Moreover, he may experience enjoy-
ment to satisfaction, in the comparatively restricted
sphere to which he has limited himself by his own
voluntary course during probation. Nevertheless,
the larger orbit would have been preferable, and by
unfaithfulness in the lesser trust, the man has brought
upon himself serious loss for eternity.

Do not reply: Revelation assures us that all shall
be perfectly happy in heaven, therefore it makes no
practical difference whether or not we improve every
present possibility.

To this I answer: Suppose that you now contract
your moral capacity, and that God, in his goodness,
does hereafter fill it with enjoyment, would that be

"KEEP THIS MAN."

as desirable, as if you should here enlarge that
capacity to the utmost, and then God should make
it brim over with blessedness forever?

It is our duty to accept with cheerfulness our
natural endowments, whether they are great or
small. A humble satellite may be as perfect as the
central sun. But, when the choice is offered of be-
ing a star of inferior magnitude or a star of superior
magnitude in the moral firmament, a most holy am-
bition responds: give me the larger body and the
ampler space, world without end!

How, then, is it that we neglect the condition
essential to the realization of that holy ambition?
We have seen that that invariable condition is faith-
fulness to our trust during earthly probation. Keep
this man! Our failure is the failure to obey that
plain injunction. How is it that we let the man es-
cape from our watch and care? "And as thy servant
was busy here and there, he was gone." That last
part of the text reveals the secret. "As I was busy,
here and there." That business is legitimate: it
must have attention. Still it becomes so all-absorb-
ing, it keeps us running here and there so constantly,
that we forget to look after the man committed to
our keeping, and, suddenly, we find that he is gone,
we know not whither. It was for this reason, that
Christ warned us so earnestly against "THE CARES OF
THIS LIFE."

Our criminal negligence is not chiefly due to our
indulgence in forbidden gratifications, but to our in-
tense devotion to commendable pursuits. If you
are a clerk, faithfulness to your employer requires
that thought and energy shall be given^to the ad-
vancement of his interests. You fall into the habit

230 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

of saying to yourself, these other subordinates be-
hind the counter must look after themselves. My
time and attention are all clue to the establishment.
I have no right to use for the benefit of my associ-
ates what belongs to the house. And so, while you
are busy here and there, day after day, the clerk at
your side, for whom you are morally responsible, is
GONE.

If you are a student, your parents rightly expect
that the prosecution of study will be your main em-
ployment. How many of you are constantly plead-
ing this fact, and letting slip some of life's finest op-
portunities for the salvation of souls! God says to
every one "there is that man, that class-mate, that
seat-mate, that room-mate, that associate, KEEP HIM
SAFE." You may not be guilty of a single sin of
commission, you may merely be busy, here and there
about things in themselves highly praiseworthy, and,
all at once, be startled by the announcement: "HE
is MISSING! GONE FOREVER!" If you are a teacher,,
your activities ought to be largely devoted to the
preparation and hearing of lessons. But there is a
pupil over whom you have more influence than does
any other member of the faculty. You may always
enter the class-room with the subject of the day
fully mastered, you may crowd every minute of the
h6ur with rich instruction, you may keep this up
from September to June, year after year, and still,
when it is too late, find that, while you have been
thus busy, here and there, that man whom God
brought unto you saying, KEEP HIM, is missing,
GONE FOREVER. If you are a capitalist giving em-
ployment to few, or to many, paying the highest
market price for labor, and following only the most

'KEEP THIS MAN." 271

<j

honorable methods in the conduct of your affairs, so
far all is well. But there is a workman whom God
has brought to you saying: KEEP HIM. What is
wanted is only five minutes of your precious time to-
morrow morning. But you hurry by. You are so
"busy, here and there." And, to-morrow night, that
man will be missing, GONE FOREVER.

If you are in authority, so that you say to one,
come, and he cometh, and to another, go, and he
goeth, and, yet you are careful that no command
shall be arbitrary and cruel, that is well. But there
is a subordinate, who is having a desperate fight with
the world, the flesh and the devil. God has put
that subordinate there for you to KEEP. A smile
and an encouraging word, once in a while, will suf-
fice. But you neglect to give them, through absorp-
tion in what seem weightier interests. And, while
you are "busy, here and there," he is missing, GONE
FOREVER.

You are the mistress of a family. You are devoted
to husband, children and friends. That is highly
commendable. But there is your maid-servant. It
is not your duty to make her your drawing-room as-
sociate. Still, she has, in common with your own
daughter, social desires which need guidance and in-
dulgence. Your experience and position qualify
you to caution her of danger, and to direct her in
the choice of companions. But you are so busy
here and there. * * * Missing ! A vial of
laudanum, and the sleep that knows no waking!

" Mad from life's history,
Glad to death's mystery;
Swift to be hurled
Anywhere; anywhere
Out of the world."

232 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Oh the CARES OF THIS LIFE ! Who shall deliver
us from their blighting, destroying power !

God grant that, when we stand before him for
judgment, and are called to account for the one
cpmmitted to us with the injunction: KEEP HIM,
HER, SAFE, we may not be compelled to answer
with shame and confusion of face: " Lord, while I
was busy, here and there, HE, SHE, WAS MISSING !
GONE FOREVER!"

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY.

""For every man shall bear his own burden." Galatians vi: 5.

The second verse of this chapter reads: " Bear
ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of
Christ." At the first glance, the two'texts seem to
embody antagonistic doctrines. What propriety is
there in telling us in the same breath, that we must
bear one another's burdens, and that every man
must bear his own burden?

There is, however, no opposition between the two
injunctions. In the art of putting things, Paul was
. a master. He took delight in startling people by
apparent contradictions, that he might arrest atten-
tion and lead them to think for themselves. The
writings of the apostle are a constant, spiritual irri-
tant. He did, on one occasion, put Eutychus to
sleep with a long sermon, but, as a rule, he keeps
up such a steady cross-fire that all are on the alert,
wondering where and whom he will hit next.

Notice his skill in the present instance. He com-
mences by bidding Christians bear your burdens for
you, and then, just as you are settling down, and be-
ginning to regard yourself as badly abused, because
Christians are so remiss in duty, he turns upon you,
saying: "None of that, there is no escape; you must
bear your own burden."

Without invalidating, in the slightest degree, what
he calls the law of Jesus, the apostle would bring
before our minds very distinctly the fact, that after
believers have done all that lies in their power for

234 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

one another, each will have his own burden to bear,,
that this, also, is a universal law under the govern-
ment of God.

Let us try to look this idea squarely in the face,
and, if possible, to ascertain its meaning. In the
first place, it is the Creator's design that every human
being shall have a burden of toil that work, and
work only, shall create value. The attempt to evade
this law produces many of our financial crashes.
Much of the business of Wall Street is legitimate,,
and highly beneficial to the world, but the gamblers
there are all the time trying to get something for
nothing and, every now and then, the penalty must
come in the form of wide-spread ruin.

The same vice manifests itself, though less plainly,,
through all the ranks of society. Even the child who,
on the railroad train, buys a package of prize candy,
is in a small way imitating the grain swindler in Chi-
cago, and the stock swindler in New York. He
stakes twenty-five cents, hoping to find a dollar in
the paper. The idea is to get seventy-five cents
that do not belong to him, and do belong to some-
body else; and to get them for nothing. It is at this
point that speculation ceases to be legitimate busi-
ness and degenerates into gambling. It is simply
betting on chances. There is no exchange of values.
As soon as that principle is lost sight of in men's,
dealings with one another, you may know that fraud,
in some form, is lurking thereabouts, however hard
it may be to tell precisely where it is hidden. It is
perfectly right for a man to put his money into
stocks, hoping for a heavy percentage from the op-
eration of the ordinary laws of trade; but the mo-
ment that he begins to play the "bull," or the "bear,"

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 235

in the market, in order to create fictitious values by
falsehood, or to depreciate real values through
fright, his proper place before the moral law,' if not
before the civil law, is in the penitentiary. It is per-
fectly right for a man to put his money into grain,,
expecting to realize largely from the operation of
the ordinary laws of demand and supply; but, as-
soon as regular transfers cease, and he merely lays
a wager as to what the price of wheat will be on a
certain day, and forms combinations to secure a
"corner," he sinks morally, so far as that transaction
is concerned, to the level of the ordinary gambler on
a Mississippi steamboat. It is perfectly right for a
man to put his money into land, if he thinks that
he foresees a rapid development which will double
or quadruple his investment; but, if by circu-
lating false reports and exciting groundless expec-
tations, he gulls the purchaser, that moment he
crosses the line which separates an honest man from
a cheat.

I know that it is very commonly said that you
cannot distinguish between what is legitimate and
what is illegitimate in business, but this is not an
impossibility. If every man would remember that
it is God's law that he must pay an equivalent for
whatever he receives an equivalent in honest hand-
work, or head-work, or money, which is the accum-
ulation of the two if he would remember this, and
then never try to get something for nothing, knav-
ery would disappear from this world with astonish-
ing rapidity. Now, if you search for the root of all
these gigantic forms of fraud, you will find it in the
determination to be free from God's great law of

236 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

labor, of equivalents, of something for something,
instead of something for nothing.

To make the matter personal, let us not confine
attention to brokers' offices, and grain elevators, and
wild lands in Dakota. Are not you and I guilty of
the same thing, on a smaller scale, every day? Are
we not forever trying to shirk work, to get some-
thing for nothing ? It is at this point that the text
hits us all. Here is one of the burdens which God
puts upon us to bear. His design is to test us,
to show of what stuff we are made, to ascertain
whether there is in us material enough for him to
shape into heirs of immortality. Look, then, upon
the burden of labor as God-appointed, and ask his
help to carry it cheerfully. In the whole circle of
my acquaintances, there are not more than twenty
persons who do not grumble about having so much
to do. And I blush to say that I can not claim to
be one of the twenty. Is it not a weariness to the
spirit, to listen to the pitiful cry on every side: "Oh,
I am so busy!" What if I am? I ought to be.
That is precisely what God put me here for. And
shame upon me, if I have not the grit and the grace
to meet his requirement, without burdening you
with my complaints, and trying to make you and
others believe that I am the hardest-worked and
poorest-paid man in the community. If I am ren-
dering my fellow-men and the cause of Christ such
invaluable services, the people and the Master will
be very sure to find it out, and to furnish suitable
compensation, without my fretting myself and worry-
ing my associates with my Jeremiads. That is my
burden, and I have no right to thrust it upon others.
We look upon the little part which we have to

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 237

play in this world's drama, through a glass which
magnifies a thousand diameters. Consequently,
that part seems to us a thousand times as big
as it does to those around us, who view it with the
naked eye; and so between our estimate and theirs
the contrast is laughable.

Now, if we will quit this folly, and simply take
upon us the burden of toil which God has appointed,
and carry it as he wants it carried, we can bear it
cheerfully, nay joyfully, to the end. We can
fill that labor, not only with prayer, but also with
song. We can make it all worship, from Monday
morning until Saturday evening. We must learn to
spend less time and energy in examining the packs
of others, to see whether we are not carrying
a few pounds more than our share. You can
not tell How heavy my load is; I can not tell how
heavy your load is. God only knows. But of this
we may be certain, that. he commands every one of
us to work with our might. If we have been doing
too much, he bids us do less. If we have been doing
too little, he bids us do more. This is wholly a
question of individual accountability.

When, therefore, we come to view the subject
aright, we shall be thankful -that we are under this
universal law of labor. Without it, we should cease
to create value for others, and in ourselves. What
is the inhabitant of the tropics worth to the world,
or in himself, as he sits in the shade, eating the ba-
nana and the bread-fruit, as they ripen and drop from
the branches above his head ? What would become
of human progress, of Christianity itself, if they
were confided to his keeping? In character, he is
nerveless, pulpy, like the fruits that he lives on.

238 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

He does nothing to put stamina into him, and to
make him a power among men. It is in the
zones where nature is less bountiful, where men
are compelled to dig, and delve and sweat, that
those forces are generated which carry the race
onward and upward.

Constituted as we are, with this bias toward indo-
lence and shiftlessness, that is not a tyrannical man-
date, but a merciful injunction, which declares that
" Every one must bear his own burden." We are
bidden to help one another in all the ways which
sweet charity dictates; but, when that has been
done, the voice rings out loud and clear: "Work!
work! Stand up under your load like a man ! "
Thus contribute what you can to the general store,
and vindicate your right to the title of sonship be-
fore God.

Again! We are called upon to bear a burden of
trouble and suffering. We are wont to complain be-
cause this burden is so unequal. Yet I believe that
the more carefully we study the matter, the more
equal the distribution will seem. Take anxiety
about our ordinary affairs. There is the hod-carrier
in the street. How shall he, with his dollar and a
half a day, buy bread for all those hungry mouths,
and shoes for all those little feet at home? And sup-
pose he falls sick, how will his wife be able to man-
age, and where shall she get the money for the doc-
tor's bills? Why can he not rest easy on these ques-
tions, like the man he sees writing at the office win-
dow yonder? But, at that very moment, he at the
office window is preyed upon by things that harass
him just as fearfully. How shall he meet his en-
gagements here? How can he quiet clamor there?

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 239

How can he ever clear himself from the meshes
which his own indiscretion or the craft of others has
woven around -him. In the matter of anxiety the
hod-carrier is no worse off than the capitalist.

Here, too, is the poor man with children to edu-
cate. How shall this great end be accomplished? It
is the struggle of a life-time; but, by and by, that girl
develops into cultivated, queenly womanhood; and
that boy fights his way up to heights of influence
and usefulness. But yonder is the rich man. With
him the question is not how to get money, but how
to keep what he has got from ruining his children.
The daughter cares for nothing but Vanity Fair, and
the son is given up to indolence and dissipation.
The two go out into life, fitted for nothing but
squandering their inheritance. Is not the weight of
anxiety as heavy on the rich man as on the poor
man?

Walk along a crowded business street, now
looking in at the doors, and now watching the faces
of those who throng the sidewalk. The story varies
very little. Care and anxiety are about equalized.
It is hard to tell which carries most, the banker, the
farmer, or the chimney-sweep. Each has laid upon
him a proportionate burden. The sweep has his
worries, but they are cooped in by the walls of the
flues which he cleans. The farmer seems to lead a
freer life, but you must remember that, as the boun-
daries of his liberty extend, so do his perplexities
increase. The banker appears to be still more inde-
pendent, but notice how the telegraph lines from New
York and London, keep his nerves in a constant
quiver, his mind in a feverish fret. Take everything
into the account, and these ordinary annoyances and

240

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

vexations are found to be very evenly distributed..

When you pass on to the province of sorrow, the
case is not materially changed. There are excep-
tions. We often speak of this person and of that
person, as especially afflicted. But, if you will ex-
tend your scale of measurement, and study the his-
tory of families, you will see that, in the long
run, the proportion of suffering to each, differs little.
It is the same old history of sickness and death,
with every generation; just about so many shrouds, just
about so many coffins!

Now, there are three ways in which we may meet
this stubborn, universal fact:

We may rebel against it. We may fight it as long
as we live; but we can not change it. The struggle
will only make us the more miserable.

Or we may submit to it in sullen stoicism, declar-
ing that it is useless to battle against fate, and that
it is the part of wisdom to bear the inevitable, hero-
ically.

Or we may recognize the merciful hand of God's
providence, trying to lead us out from the confusion
and distress which human transgression has brought
upon earth, into those serene realms of resignation,
faith and hope, in which it is the Christian's privi-
lege to make his home.

Let us now ascend to a more elevated and expan-
sive province of contemplation, and examine the
burden of personal accountability unto Jehovah.
That idea I want to set vibrating in every breast
here this morning. God and I, vohat are his claims
upon me?

God lays upon you the burden of responsibility
for right thinking. By right thinking is not meant

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 241

right thinking in every department of truth, or even
in every department of theology, but concerning
your relation to him through Jesus Christ.

To this end, he would have you cultivate a reverent
affection for the Bible, as the depository of his re-
vealed will. In doing this, it is not necessary for you
to suppose that there is truth nowhere else, or to re-
ject, as false, whatever falls without the province of
your own experience, or the teachings of this Book.
Nor, on the other hand, is there any virtue in eagerly
subscribing to every thing which seems to have some
connection with Bible history or doctrine.

A woman had a son who was a sailor. As was
natural, she took great delight in her boy's descrip-
tions of his voyages. After his return from a long
cruise, he was amusing her, one evening, with ac-
counts of fishes and fishing. Among other things,
he told her how, on the Mediterranean, he had seen
flying fish rise out of the water, like birds, fifteen or
twenty feet, and sail through the air hundreds of
feet. His mother, having never before heard of any-
thing of the sort, concluded that he was drawing upon
his imagination. So, as soon as he got to a period,
putting her spectacles back, she began: "Oh, John,
John, this sea-life is going to prove the ruin of you.
You used to be such a truthful boy, and here you are
trying to palm off this nonsense upon your old
mother."

After endeavoring in vain to convince her that he
had not stretched the facts in the least, he gave it up,
saying: "Well, mother, that was a pretty tough
story; but now I'll tell you one that you'll like: a
few months ago we went fishing over in the Red Sea,
and, would you believe it, the very first time that we

242 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

cast the net, we drew up a chariot wheel, made of
gold, and inlaid with diamonds, and we all agreed
that it must have been one of the wheels that came
off from Pharaoh's chariot, when he was drowned
in pursuing the Israelites, about four thousand
years ago."

" There, there, John," replied she, with a sigh of
relief, "that sounds better. That is more like what I
used to read to you from Exodus, when you were a
little boy. Tell me such stories as that, and I'll
believe you; but don't let me hear any more about
your flying fish."

Now, some who call themselves scientific people,
would have us think that John's mother is a fair
representative of the Christianity of the nineteenth
century; that the ministry would make everybody
just so set against the facts which lie outside the
sacred narrative, and just so credulous about any-
thing which seems to have even the remotest
connection with the scripture record. To give it ho
harsher name, that is a gross misrepresentation. I
do not know of any religious teacher who wants men
and women to set themselves against a truth, simply
because it is not stated somewhere between Genesis
and Revelation, or to catch up any statement merely
because its phraseology has a kind of Bible smack.
It is our business to preach faith, not credulity.
With this faith, the right thinking which I maintain
that you are accountable for, has a most intimate
connection.

It is well to entertain correct views about baptism,
election, perseverance, perfection and other such
doctrines; but, after all, those views do not form a
part of that burden of responsibility which I am ad-

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 243

vocating. What you are bound to do is, to come to
the Bible, and more particularly to the New Testa-
ment, and most particularly to the Gospels, with
reverence, candor, and confidence, determined to
find out the relations in which you stand to God,
through a crucified Redeemer.

Open to Matthew, and you read: "Whosoever,
therefore, shall confess me before men, him will I
confess also before my Father in heaven." Turn to
Mark, and this is the testimony: "He that believeth
and is baptized shall be saved." In the next chapter,
Luke speaks: "To give knowledge of salvation to
his people, by the remission of their sins, through
the tender mercy of our God." And next, from John
is heard the same glad proclamation: "I am come a
light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me
should not abide in darkness."

And then, from the Acts of those apostles, who
left the narrow limits of Palestine, and went forth to
spread the joyful news throughout the world, breaks
the announcement: " In every nation, he that
feareth God and worketh righteousness, is accepted
with him."

Whereupon, from the lips of the last speaker, Paul
catches the message, and cries to the Romans: "This
gospel is the power of God unto salvation, unto
every one that believeth." And next, the Corinthians
hear it: "Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable
gift." And presently far awav Galatia listens to the
new story: "Jerusalem which is above is free, which
is the mother of us all." And on the streets of
Ephesus, which once resounded with the shout,
"Great is Diana of the Ephesians," there is another
voice: ''One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God

244 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and Father of all." And from Philippi, but yesterday
idolatrous and degraded, this is the strain: "Our
citizenship is in heaven." Colosse, too, joins in the
thanksgiving: "There is neither Greek nor Jew, cir-
cumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian,
bond nor free; but Christ is all in all." Thessalonica,
likewise, hears the assurance: "God hath not ap-
pointed us unto wrath, but to obtain salvation through
our Lord Jesus Christ." From Timothy and Titus
cometh the same blessed truth: "If we be unfaithful,
yet He abideth faithful." " He gave himself for us,
that he might redeem us from all iniquity." Nay,
more, in the short epistle to Philemon, even the poor
fugitive slave, Onesimus, is recognized: "Not now
as a servant, but above a servant, a brother beloved
in the Lord."

In the letter to the Hebrews, Christ for all, is still
the central truth. Through him, God says to sinners
everywhere: "I will be merciful to their unrighteous-
ness, and their sins and iniquities will I remember no
more." And next, James and Peter and John and
Jude range themselves side by side, and thus they
speak: "Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord,
and he shall lift you up." "For Christ hath also
once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he
might bring us to God." "The blood of Jesus Christ
his son cleanseth us from all sin." "Keep yourselves
in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord
Jesus Christ, unto life eternal."

And then, as we close the Book, Revelation speaks:
"The Spirit and the Bride say, come. And let him
that heareth say, come. And let him that is athirst,
come. And whosoever will, let him take the water
of life freely."

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY. 245

And, now, with every book in the New Testament
crying, free grace, salvation to all, pardon, peace,
heaven, to every man, woman and child, that will
seek them through Christ, how dare you say that you
are an exception, that there is no hope for you, or
that God has no claims upon you?

Do you reply, that I have been picking out isolated
passages, here and there, to sustain my argument?
You are mistaken. Early one morning, I opened my
Bible, and began at Matthew, and I kept turning leaf
after leaf, and when I got through it was noon. The
same glorious doctrine shone all along the way. The
trouble was not to find the proofs, for they were
.spread out everywhere. The perplexity lay in mak-
ing selections from the hundreds and hundreds of
verses that cried: "Take me make me your witness
for Christ."

I do not deny that you can quote some hard, ugly
texts. But bring them here, every one. Heap them
as high as you can; and, then, mountain high above
them, I'll pile the testimony from the lips of Jesus
and his apostles, to show that your conclusion is
false.

With all this evidence within your reach, you are
responsible for right thinking on this question. From
the tremendous weight of that burden, there is for
you no escape.

Finally, God bids you put right thinking into
right acting. That burden multiplies the pressure of
the other, and you can not roll it upon the shoulders
of any body else. Are you trying to rid yourself of
it, in that old, old way? Are you pleading the incon-
sistencies and iniquities of church members as an
excuse? Are you scornfully pointing to the hellish

246 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

scandals that sometimes settle down around the
pulpit?

That has nothing whatever to do with the case..
. Suppose that church members are as bad as you
claim; suppose that they are a thousand- fold worse.
Nay, more; suppose that there is not living a solitary
professor of religion that is not a hypocrite, or a sol-
itary minister of the gospel whose character is not
blacker than Francis Moulton painted the character
of Henry Ward Beecher, what then? Does that
change, one iota, your personal relation to God? Is
not your heavenly Father saying to you, individually:
"Here, now, I want one genuine Christian in this
world. I call upon you to be that one?"

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY.

"Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine." I Tim-
othy iv: 16.

Notice the conjunction : "Take heed unto thy-
self, and unto the doctrine." The clauses are co-or-
dinate. Culture and creed stand before us hand in
hand, twin brothers. Let no quarrel arise. Let
neither, in derision, leap over the walls which the
other is building for the Eternal City.

Paul had no conception of a faultless manhood
and a faultless orthodoxy, as two separable and an-
tagonistic possibilities. With him, religion found
nothing too common for the touch of consecration,
nothing too ethereal for faith's firm tread.

In sympathy with his view, and following the
textual order, we inquire what is meant by the words:
" Take heed to thyself."

First, take heed to the physical nature. The con-
nection is so intimate between bodily, mental and
moral health, that it should not be disregarded by
any one and, least of all, by the preacher. There
are two extremes, either of which is to be avoided.
It was the monastic notion that the body should be
whipped and mortified into subjection to the soul.
But, taught by sad experience that the body can
not be kept under by the lash, men have latterly
come to court its good graces with most flattering
caresses. You may hear, on every side, loud-voiced
apostles of muscular Christianity. Let us have
more sinew, and we shall have less sin, is the burden
of the new gospel. Trade your commentaries for a

248 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

health-lift, if you would help men on to holiness.
Dyspepsia and liver complaint are the bane of the-
ology.. Cure those, if you would secure soundness
in this.

What, however, was Paul's doctrine? We find in
his teachings no sympathy with asceticism. He
deals considerately with physical weakness. He pre-
scribes thoughtfully for Timothy's bodily infirmities.
Yet he, at the same time, guards him against the no-
tion that he must make the Greek ideal of physical
development his ideal in the ministry. In the chap-
ter before us, he says boldly: "Bodily exercise
profiteth little." What avails it to pile up the muscle
on your arm, till you are equal to a boxing bout with
old Pollux himself ? Will that iron hand come
down any heavier for truth? Should the preacher
put himself in training till he becomes a brawny
Charon, stout enough to scull every waiting soul
across Acheron?

In the heroic age, Homer could find no more com-
plimentary terms than "Horse-whipper,"and "Horse-
tamer." With these he greets his favorites in every
encounter. But, is there, to-day, no danger that the
ponies may run away with the pulpit? Shall we
rush upon the field, crying with Richard III: " A
horse! A horse!' My kingdom for a horse! " Is the
ability to drive "tandem" or four-in-hand, to be
henceforth regarded as one of the chief clerical
accomplishments? The church used to put the lash
into a man's hand, and bid him use it on himself.
Shall we retain the lash, but substitute horse-flesh
for human flesh? Seriously, can we never learn to
treat the body, neither as a slave, nor as a master;

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 249

but as a loving servant, that is to be kindly trained to
do the bidding of the soul.

Unto the minister so much bodily exercise is profit-
able as is necessary to keep bile and brain on the
best of terms with each other. Beyond that, the
cultivation of muscular tissue is a waste of force that
is needed elsewhere. The steadiest moral nerve and
the clearest spiritual vision may be looked for when
the pulse is full, soft and regular. It is only then
that a man is in condition to preach.

Next to health comes mental breadth. When Paul
wrote to Timothy, mental grasp would have been
the better term. Christianity and heathenism had
just met for their first fierce encounter upon the
arena. They stood face to face, like two gallant
wrestlers of the earlier day. It was a question of
grip and throttle. But, now, science has broken up
the circle of the amphitheater, and rimmed us round
with an ever-receding horizon. Grasp is still wanted
in the ministry, but breadth yet more. May we be
delivered from that narrowness which would bring
on a miserable duel, when temperate arbitration
might settle the difficulty. It is wiser to learn from
the spirit of Geneva in the nineteenth century, than
from the spirit of Geneva in the sixteenth century.
There are several cheap kinds of sermon padding;
but the cheapest of them all is the indiscriminate
attack upon the naturalist, as necessarily the high-
priest of naturalism. If you would have a model of
the forcible-feeble style of discourse, give a man a
bad theological scare, and a plentiful supply of adjec-
tives, and then cry Huxley and Darwin in his ear.
One great hindrance to the spread of the gospel,
is this apparent anxiety in the church, lest the foun-

250 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

dations of the faith may be undermined in the search
after the secrets of nature. So long as the keepers
of the temple manifest such trepidation, the multi-
tude will suspect that the building is insecure, and
stay outside.

Earth's alluvium is rich. Let the investigators
work there in peace. No matter what their motives,
we shall be the better off for every discovery. And,
if some excavator does, now and then, shout to the
surface, that he has found the bottom fact, that he
has touched the Ultimate Cause, we can afford to wait
patiently, knowing that when the laborers have gone
down through the alluvium, they will but come to
the Rock of Ages.

The telescope is ours. It sweeps the azure. We
can not afford to lay down the instrument which God
has given us for all this wide survey, this OVERLOOK,
and fall to quarreling with him, who, microscope in
hand, is trying to get the UNDERLOOK.

We foolishly suffer from the apprehension that he
will not teach just what we want taught; that he will
not use the old theological crucible. We are a little
doubtful whether to trust truth to come out truth,
whoever manipulates. We are all the time whisper-
ing innuendoes against him who uses the microscope.
We, lawyer-like, . besmut his character, so that we
may weaken his influence, should he come into court
with some perplexing circumstantial evidence, in the
so-called case of Science versus Revelation.

Or, if we do not do this, we commit another piece
of folly. We, whom God has commissioned to search
into the wonders of the spiritual sky-blue, abandon
the observatory, and, borrowing the microscope, after
brief superficial study, essay to enlighten the world,

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 251

in orthodox fashion, on the relation of Genesis to
cell genesis, and of Revelation to protoplasm. Such
breadth means nothing but thinness. It weakens the
minister's influence quite as much as the narrowness
already described. He who preaches the gospel to
save souls, can not afford the time for learned re-
searches in the various departments of science. He
will become the laughing-stock of the savant, if he
makes the attempt with the limited resources at his.
command. Furthermore, he will fritter away those
energies which should be used to compel men to
come into the kingdom of God. That breadth of
mind which he needs, is the ability to see that all
important truths are not clasped between Bible lids,
and to welcome fearlessly, thankfully, every discov-
ery made by the specialist in the many fields of in-
vestigation, even though it may perplex him for
awhile to reconcile that discovery with the time-hon-
ored creed.

Again, the minister must give heed to his manli-
ness. Let there be no trifling with self-respect. The
graduate leaves the seminary with the determination
to seek a good life rather than a good living; but he
often finds the living so poor that it impoverishes
the life. To better the living, he unconsciously be-
gins to cast about him for what are called in the
world's markets, "preacher's rates." But he never
asks for a minister's discount without discounting
his own ministerial influence. He can not look the
tradesman quite so steadily in the eye. There is a
semi-mendicancy in the transaction which tells
against his Sabbath message. An unregenerate
butcher can hardly see why he should be called upon
to furnish clerical roast beef at twelve cent:,

252 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

a pound, while the ordinary worldling pays fifteen
cents without any grumbling. The preacher who
would stand erect in his pulpit, must be able to. walk
through shop and store without stooping. Of course,
nothing is said against such free-will offerings as
come spontaneously from parishioner to pastor.
These open the heart of the former and bring no
degradation to the latter. They are not to be looked
upon as an affront. Let such favors be accepted,
gracefully and gratefully. Still, there is danger that
they will presently be regarded in the light of church
dues, or parish perquisites; that, if they fail, the
minister will look upon himself as not quite fairly
treated, or that, if they are furnished, they will be
taken with scant courtesy.

Did you ever know a brother who, when a country
parishioner had put a bag of Bell-flowers into the
cellar of the parsonage, would meet him at the top
of the stairs, and look at the size of the sack, as if
making an estimate, whether all the tithes had been
brought in. The pulpit can better bear the charge of
being musty and cob-webby with antiquity, than the
suspicion of becoming spongy.

A second essential element of manliness is 'natural-
ness. There is a foolish habit of gauging speech and
deportment, by the question: "Is it ministerial?"
To that we fall to trimming word and action. The
consequence is a style of spiritual affectation, which
.excites prejudice against the profession. There is
too much clerical primness, though, with gratitude
be it acknowledged, there has been a marked im-
provement, within a quarter of a century. So small
a matter as the discarding of the regulation white
hat and stock has helped to humanize the clergy.

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 253

The wearing of such a uniform gave a ghastly look,
and the man naturally fell to cultivating cadaverous-
ness. When such a one held out his hand for you
to shake, you felt like saying, with old king Lear:
" Let me wipe it first, it smells of mortality."

Still, you may see a remnant of the ancient idea,
in the way in which many seek to banish humor
from the pulpit. No censure can be too severe for
the preacher who plays the buffoon behind the
desk. May the profession be forever rid of min-
isterial Merry Andrews. But, if the Creator has
given a man the faculty of impaling on a witti-
cism all forms of spiritual flunkeyism in the church,
or of dissolving in humor, nauseating truth, so that
people can and will take it, that faculty is from
God and is to be used for God, as freely and fear-
lessly as any other mental endowment. We can-
not afford to surrender this divine gift to the press,
the stage and the forum, or to permit its use to
the clergyman on secular occasions, and deny it on
the Sabbath.

Max Muller says wisely: " Humor is a surer sign
of strong convictions and perfect safety than guarded
solemnity." Yet, how people do dote upon that
same guarded solemnity, and the more unnatural it
is, the more supernatural they take it to be.

A third essential element of manliness is self-
forgetfulness. One of Virgil's most wonderful pictures
is that of two dragons, which, in the temple, coil
their bodies and hide their hissing heads behind the
glittering shield of divinity itself. And those ugly
twin monsters, pride and ambition, are always watch-
ing their chance to steal in here.

There are many in the average audience whom

254 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

this trouble in the pulpit may not harm. The young
and the thoughtless may not be repelled by its pres-
ence. But not so is it with those who have grown
old and hardened in sin. You go fishing. You may
walk along a trout brook in plain sight, and catch a
kreel full of fish. But they are all young fry. There
is a wily veteran, just under that big, moss-covered
rock. You may try him with every fly in your book.
He rather fancies the bate, but he does not fancy
you. You come again the next day. You stoop and
get behind the rock and cast a line. That brown
hackle is the morsel; but, just as he is going to rise,
he changes his mind and glides away. Why? He
caught sight of a hat and a pair of eyes, and they
took away his appetite for brown hackle. The third
day, you put your hat into your pocket and advance
on all-fours. You now go by faith and not by sight.
You would not have the least shadow on the stream
so much as give a hint of your existence.

A butterfly, with wings of bronze, drops upon the
surface of the water. Strike! Let him play! That's
a three-pounder! So is it in fishing for MEN.

Sympathy with common experiences is no less im-
portant. There is a great danger that we shall con-
found sentimentalizing with sympathizing; that we
shall pattern after Rev. Laurence Sterne; that we
shall look pathetically through the window at the
captive; but be very careful never to get upon the
.same side of the bars with the captive; that we shall
make the whole journey from Jericho to Jerusalem a
merely sentimental journey.

Did you never go forth from some pen-picturing
of distress, and find yourself in the condition of Pip,
in Great Expectations? "with a whole gallon of con-

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 255

descension, and only a pint of ale," to cheer the
distressed. In training the imagination, to catch a
Tennyson's "voice of shipwreck, on a shoreless sea,"
there may be a kind of opium ecstacy, which unmans
the soul, for shoving its life-boat out into a sea with
shore breaker-white, and for bending to the oar to
rescue the perishing. We may so accustom ourselves
to mounting to the attics of fancy, as to have no
heart, to drag our weary feet up the rickety stairways
to the top story of the tenement house.

The parish is the natural corrector of the study.
It gives us an exquisite thrill, to wring some im-
aginary hand of distress, a hand that is delicate and
white; but he that would successfully minister before
God unto men, must have such interest in the com-
mon-place work, temptations, and trials of life, that
he is always eager to clasp the hard and sweaty
palm of the clown, that he may lead the clown up to
a crown.

Focalizing, now, 'these few separate rays which we
have been trying to throw upon this part of the sub-
ject, we see that, with physical health and mental
breadth, and a manliness that is self-respectful,
natural, self-forgetful, and heartily sympathetic, the
minister is, on the manward side, in readiness for ef-
fective work. So essential are these qualifications,
that there would seem to be no danger of their being
unduly magnified. But, when a generous, cultivated,
brilliant humanitarianism comes forward at this point
.and declares that no more is necessary that char-
acter is everything, that creed is nothing; that if a
man be a living epistle known and read of all, it
matters little what theories he advances from the
pulpit, it is high time to re-read the second part of

256 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Paul's pastoral charge to Timothy: "Take heed unto
the doctrine." Equip thyself upon the Godward
side.

Present limits permit the notice of only two par-
ticulars. The first is a fearless radicalism

The minister is called to set himself against what,
Lowell characterizes as, " a feeble-minded piety,
which dreads the cutting away of an orthodox tumor
of misbelief, as if the life blood of faith would follow,,
and would keep even a stumbling-block in the way
of salvation, if only enough generations had tripped
over it to make it venerable."

Good men have unwittingly introduced the poison
into our theological systems. Good men have unin-
tentionally dropped mischievous things in the path
of life. But that is no reason why we should use
fomentations for the tumors, and cover up the
stumbling-blocks with our mantels of charity. The
knife for the one, and the fire for the other! Then
shall we be ready for the treatment of heterodoxy.

There are two sides to this question. Radicalism
has a call in both directions. We desire not, to hush
the talk about the old tumors of orthodoxy. Ex-
pose them all, and give them all heroic treatment.
But use the probe, impartially. Try it upon the
" other -doxy," and you will find that, of all tumors fl
the oldest and the 'deadliest is the one implanted in
human speculation, when heterodoxy first became
articulate, in the words: "Thou shalt not surely die."

But sin does KILL. Psychology says so. History
says so. Paul says so. Christ says so. We shrink
aghast from the ruin which the soul may bring upon
itself, and there is an impulse to take refuge in the
tempter's utterance: "Thou shalt not surely die."

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 257

>

There may be remedial virtue in sin, if not here,
then, perhaps, elsewhere. Is not heterodoxy trying-
to inoculate orthodoxy, with the virus of that same
old tumor? He only is kind to his brother and true
to his Master, who tenderly, but plainly, recognizes
the badness of the case. "Take heed to the doc-
trine."

We are here at the root of things, the tap-root.
Dare to be radical. But do not rest satisfied in deal-
ing with those fibrous roots that run laterally, near
the surface. Such work is easier and pleasanter. It
gives less offense to others. It disturbs your own
pity less. But it does not meet God's requirements.
You must find sin's farthest reach. That goes down,
down, to DEATH, a death the end of which we can
not see, strain our tearful eyes as we will.

In this development theory of evil, there are no
"breaks." It is from bad to worse all the way, till
vision touches the border land of darkness, about
which we know nothing, unless we accept Revelation.

In the name of reason, how can we discard pres-
ent experiences and analogies, and picking up, here,,
a possibility on supposed conditions, and, there, a
perhaps under existing conditions, try to construct
a situation which shall abolish the death penalty
under the government of God. Such speculation is
cruel. Under the guise of mercy, it palliates guilt,
belittles righteousness, loosens the bonds of moral
obligation, and leads the soul to trifle with its own
eternal destiny.

Sin is the radical problem. And that is only a
pseudo-radicalism, which would dismiss it with sun-
dry surface guesses, dignifying them by the name of
an answer. Who is the genuine radical? Which

258 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

shall we trust, the feminine, or the masculine lobe of
the brain? Which is the more grandly compassion-
ate, the weak pity which hides, or the white-lipped
resolution which lays bare the terrible ruin wrought
by perverted free will?

Lastly: Preach Christ. Sin means death. Christ
means life. The reach is infinite, either way. Moral
evil is upon us. We cannot solve the mystery of its
permission. Our subtlest conjectures are only par-
tially satisfactory. That impossible task is not re-
quired. Our commission is to herald salvation from
ruin. So much we know, that, as permitted evil was
in God's thought from the beginning, likewise from
the beginning in God's thought was the Logos who
took bodily form at Bethlehem. The insinuation of
malevolence is met by the gift of divinity incarnate.

The heart throbs and swells, as we again catch
sight of the great tidal wave of Christian thought
that flows and ebbs through nineteen centuries. It
is embodied in that word, which one party pronoun-
ces ATONEMENT, and the other party pronounces
AT-ONE-MENT. And each is partly right. When you
look heavenward, and God's righteous law towers
upward in all its majesty, the cross does mean ATONE-
MENT.- But, when you look earthward, and see the
Father's arms thrown around his prodigal boy come
home, those blood-red letters change to characters
of golden light, and the word grows syllabic, and
the inscription on the cross reads AT-ONE-MENT.

All these theories that give us some hint of the
fathomless meaning of the life and death of Christ
call for gratitude. But all creeds combined, from
ECCE HOMO to ECCE DEUS fall infinitely short of
declaring the humanity and the divinity of Jesus.

SYMMETRY IN THE MINISTRY. 259

Boundless theme! Our inspiration and our despair!

Yet, when the scoffer points to Calvary, and asks,
what more can you make of it than the central gib-
bet of the universe ? the heart flies to the rescue
with the answer: " SOME-HOW IT SAVES."

And the risen Redeemer speaks: " Go, disciple all
nations. Lo I am with you alway, unto the end of
the world."

" With us alway," Our Master, what need we more! Let
our walk be closer with thee in our toils, closer with thee in
our trials, closer with thee in our joys, closer with thee in our
sorrows, closer with thee as the burdens of years increase,
closer with thee as we near the bounds of life, closer with thee
as we go down into the valley of the shadow, closer with thee
as we climb the Heights of the Everlasting and that will be
Heaven Amen!

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION.

" Forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching
forth unto those things that are before." Philippians iii: 13.

Memory and Imagination Prime Factors in the
Problem of Life! This is the theme which invites
our study to-day. Says an objector, however, the
text does not commend remembering, but forgetting.
You can not, therefore, legitimately use the verse in
the manner proposed. So it might seem at the first
glance, but a moment's thought brings relief. It is
obvious, that the Apostle can not advocate the
blotting out of the past, leaving there nothing but utter
blankness. That would be to destroy all the materials
for that very progress which he everywhere enjoins.
What he desires is, that we should learn to discrimi-
nate between those things which will hinder and those
things which will promote our advancement, and then
forget the former but remember the latter. This is a
constant puzzle. The feeling is like that which we
have in taking up a daily paper. We are perplexed
to know what to skip, and what to read. So, here,
the first difficulty is to decide what to banish from
the mind, and what to retain in the mind. Now, we
ought to carry from the past into the future, whatever
will be helpful there, and drop everything else. The
division may be made by picking out the bad and
leaving the good, or by picking out the good and
leaving the bad. Either method involves the other.
And so it is proper to use the text to cover the theme
proposed.

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 261

Consider, therefore:

I. Things to forget.

II. The use to be made of things remembered.
We should train ourselves to forget animosities.

To cherish these, is the distinguishing characteristic
of barbarism. To nurse the desire for revenge was
considered one of the noblest virtues among the
ancients. Gratitude for kindness was not more highly
esteemed. Modern savagery subscribes to the same
creed. Such is the inspiration of the scalp dance,
among the aborigines. Such is the sentiment of the
pioneer, who steadies his rifle, with the doctrine that
the only good Indian is a dead Indian. Whoever
harbors resentiment and bides his time for retaliation,
is no better than a Vandal, or a Comanche, or a bor-
der ruffian.

Such a one does not belong within the pale of
civilization, much less within that of Christianity.
Still, this detestable trait clings to us all most obsti-
nately, and under most deceptive disguises. Even
the devout believer, who fancies himself under the
dominion of the Beatitudes, is suddenly shocked to
discover the war paint on his face and the tomahawk
in his hand; or, if the picture is not so startling, he
will detect, under what seems to be zeal for the Lord
of Hosts, a lurking purpose, to gratify his own per-
sonal hostility.

You may read this, between the lines, in the bi-
ographies of almost all the world's great reformers.
And rigid self-examination will reveal the same fact,
in your own humbler experience. The ugly spirit
will insidiously worm its way into religious talk, or
prayer, or sermon.

Now, these animosities must be banished from

262 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

our recollection. We are not to sort them ovei>
with a view to retaining some, and expelling some.
All must go. . The presence of any will be a curse to
other people and to ourselves. This will require the
most patient and persistent discipline of the will.
Our mental philosophies abound in directions for
training the power of memory. But there is also a
training to forget, which is sadly neglected, both in
theory and in practice. This is more under the con-
trol of volition, than we commonly suppose. So
strong is the passion for brooding over our vindictive
feelings, that we say that it is ungovernable; that,
possibly, we may forgive, but that we cannever forget.
Are we, however, so helpless under the tyranny of
passion? If, instead of taking it for granted that
our attention must set steadily in that direction, we
would resolutely seek to divert it to other activ-
ities, we should be surprised at the mastery which
would come, in the lapse of years. Of course, the
older we are before we open the struggle, the more
protracted it will be. This science of forgetting is
begun too late in life. The child ought to be taught
at the outset, that it is just as necessary for him to
learn to forget, as it is to learn to remember; that
there are certain things which he must discipline
himself to withdraw his attention from, just as there
are certain other things which he must discipline
himself to fix his attention upon. Much may be done
through the direct action of volition. Still more may
be accomplished, indirectly, by occupying the mind
with loftier purposes, by keeping it so busy with
nobler employments, that the latter will thrust out,
and keep out, the resentments which clamor for hos-
pitality. Test thus, I pray you, the expulsive power

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 263

of benevolent thought and beneficent action. Never
till you learn to forget, as well as to forgive, can you
know the fulness, the beauty and the sweetness of
Christian liberty.

Forget failures. Respecting animosities, the rule
has no exceptions; but respecting failures, the injunc-
tion is less sweeping. We should consign to oblivion
only the failures which would be a hindrance, if re-
membered. There is a brooding over defeats, which
unnerves resolution, and discourages fine achieve-
ment. It lowers the tone of mental and spiritual
life, and sinks the doxology into the dirge. Who
has not looked upon this raven, and listened to its
doleful nevermore? Are we, then, unable to shake off
the dismal spell? Multitudes yield themselves un-
resisting captives, and, thenceforth, clank the fetters
of hopes always dying, but never dead. You meet
such people daily, you hear their inarticulate cries,
your heart goes out to them in sympathy, and yet
you are powerless to rescue. The only remedy lies
in themselves, in their consigning to oblivion this
wretched past, which they carry about with them
like a body of death. A man may decide very
quickly, whether a failure should be forgotten. So
soon as he finds that to recur to a defeat, weakens
his confidence in his power to succeed in any worthy
department of effort, he may know that it is his duty
to withdraw his mind from that occurrence, and seek
to break up the laws of association, which will be
most likely to suggest that portion of his experience.
At first, the very effort not to remember, will seem
to fix the matter more firmly in mind, just as in
insomnia, the resolution to expel an agitating
thought, will sometimes send it whirling through the

264 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

brain chambers with increased velocity. But per-
sistent resolution will finally banish the unwelcome
visitor, or thrust it into the background through the
introduction of more pleasing guests. No one has
gained a proper self-mastery, until he is able to shut
and lock the door upon any memory which will dis-
courage him in striving for nobler attainments.

Be on your guard against a morbid passion for
going back to the different battle grounds, on which
you have been overthrown, and living your miseries
over again. There is only one class of people who
succeed in making that practice profitable. It is
composed of such poets as turn their woes into verse,
at so much a canto. They may convert into cash the
opening of old wounds, just as professional beggars
subject themselves to all sorts of inflictions, that
they may the more surely excite the pity of the
passer-by.

But the best that most of us can get out of an old
hurt, is to get well of it as soon as possible, and to
get away from it as far as possible. Usually, the
most dangerous thing that we can carry into a
present encounter, is the picture of a previous dis-
aster. It secretly takes the stamina out of us, so that
we are panic-struck at the first shock of arms. What
is true of physical and mental courage is equally so
of moral courage. For this reason, in the Christian
life, it is wise to forget the sins of the past which fill
us with apprehension of our future triumph. Yet
many seem to regard it as a sort of virtue, to impede
their spiritual progress, by loading themselves with
the recollection of transgressions, which God himself
has promised to remember no more forever.

Forget successes; not all, but such as fill the mind

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 265

with a sense of satisfaction, and tempt you to relax
your efforts, and to erase Excelsior from your ban-
ner. It is often said that college valedictorians sel-
dom run an illustrious career. The statement is
false; still there are too many cases in which a young
man bends all his energies in a single direction, until
the day of graduation; and, thenceforth, gives him-
self up to admiration for his one achievement. But,
while he is engrossed with that bright memory, his
competitors, forgetting those things which are be-
hind, and reaching forth unto those things which are
before, lay hold upon the grander prizes of life.
Laurels won begin to wither the moment that they en-
circle the brow. The world has little use for him who
has nothing to offer but the faded flowers and time-
stained cards, which testify that he was the hero of
a happy day in the long ago.

In estimating the value of any man, you need to
know whether there is material in him to carry him on
to a certain point' where he will sit down to enjoy what
he has gained, or whether there is a reserve of am-
bition and energy, which will urge him forward so
long as life shall last. In carrying on any enterprise,
this idea is highly important in your calculations.
There are so many persons who do fine service un-
der conditions, who lose momentum the instant the
conditions are removed. How often a business firm
has been disappointed on admitting to partnership
a subordinate who has been working for years on
probation. His fidelity and zeal have made them-
selves felt in all directions. But now that he
has come into the new relation, the throb in
the movement of affairs disappears. The draught
dies away, as if some check damper had been

266 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

closed. That is a very anxious moment when
you remove any special pressure which has been
brought to bear for years. You hold your breath
to see whether the ordeal has used up all the stuff
that there was in him, and whether he, who has
hitherto lived in anticipation, will now begin to live
in memory; or whether he is still full of enterprise,
so that the present attainment will be an incentive to
more eager endeavor. That is a rare manager of any
interest, who has an insight which guages men cor-
rectly, knows how much there is in them, can calculate
whether the supply will last till a certain date, or can
discern some secret fountain which will flow peren-
nially. Alas for him that has nothing to depend
upon but spent forces, memories, shadows of a past,
however illustrious!

Did you not admire the spirit of Charles Francis
Adams, who, on being introduced as the grand-
son of his grandfather and the son of his
father, made a graceful bow to his ancestors, but.
declined to be a mere voice from the tombs. I have
a friend whom I delight to introduce as the nephew
of his distinguished uncle. The expression of his
countenance is a study. It seems to say: Forget-
ting those things that are behind, I reach forth to
those things which are before.

In this outline of what we should train ourselves to
forget, I have incidentally touched upon what we
should remember. There are failures and sins to
which it becomes us to recur from time to time. They
are such as give us salutary warning, point out dan-
ger in a way which does not unman us, but shows us,
with the peril, the method of escape. Was it not
the defeat at Bunker Hill which revealed to our

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 267

forefathers the possibility of successful resistance,
and gave them courage to publish to the world the
Declaration of Independence? So the Union disas-
ter at Bull Run, settled the fall of the Confederacy
at Richmond. By losing many a hard-fought battle,
both Peter the Great and Frederick the Great, finally,
learned the secret of all their conquests. In the
long struggle for emancipation from the dominion
of sin, it is wise for us to recall, and carefully study
those transgressions which indicate our special dan-
gers, foster that humility which is one of the sources
of strength, and lead us to cry for deliverance to
Him who is mighty to save. So subtle are the wiles
of the Adversary of Souls that we can not anticipate
them and guard ourselves against them, unless we
take experience as our guide and interpreter. The
enemy makes us an individual study, and lays plots
against our peculiar weaknesses, so that the detec-
tion of these plots is the shortest road to that self-
knowledge so essential to self-protection.

As Ave look backward, and see the pitfalls into
which we have blindly plunged, we are able to look
forward, discover the treacherous places and avoid
similar moral disasters. Such memories of evil are
blessed. Cling to the recollection of every experi-
ence of evil which waves both the danger signal and
the flag of deliverance.

Remember victories; such victories as inspire the
soul to still more splendid achievements. I have
dwelt upon the danger of concentrating the energies
upon some object, and relaxing effort, the moment
that object is attained. Suppose that a minister
should decide that he had accumulated a supply of
sermons, so that he need not write any more. The

268 SERMONS AND ADDIi ESSES.

moment that he began to fall back upon that old
stock, and to cease production, he would be-
gin to die, as a mental and spiritual force.
What would be your feeling if you should call a
pastor, and should afterward see him sort the con-
tents of "the barrel," and hear him say to himself,
that he should not have to do anything but pastoral
work for the next five years? The prospect of
warmed-over sermons would be about as inviting as
the prospect of warmed-over victuals for the same
period. Although I doubt the wisdom and am a
trifle skeptical about the sincerity of the minister
who, on assuming a new charge, assured his people
that in looking over hundreds of manuscripts, he
had concluded that there were not half a dozen dis-
courses good enough to preach to them; still itspoke
well for the freshness of the man's ministrations, and
his prospective growth in breadth and depth of
thought. The most commendable course would be
to make such use of the best of the old, as would
insure time and strength for the most productive
effort in the new field of labor. If one has been en-
gaged in long and faithful service, he will have gar-
nered some grain which should not be thrown away
with the abundant chaff. That kind of satisfaction
with past achievements which encourages indolence,
is one thing. That which invigorates and inspires
for more enthusiastic endeavor, is another. The
memory of the best that we have done, should be a
revelation of still better things to do.

You will come short of your noblest possibilities,
unless you learn to maintain a stout heart and a
steady resolution, by the frequent recall of victories
in other days.

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 269

Do you say that this will be to surrender to mem-
ory the province of faith ? Do you say, that God com-
mands us not to be anxious about the future, that
he would have us trust him to carry us through
whatever may be in store, and that to try to keep
up our courage by bearing in mind the deliverances
of the past, is to substitute a human device for the
plan of God ? * * * Your position is untenable.
You are not asked, to substitute memory for faith,
but to press memory into the service of faith.
Where, in the Scriptures, are we forbidden to em-
ploy means for the confirmation of faith ? Faith is
grounded in reason, and reason depends upon mem-
ory for suggestion. You are commanded, to trust
God for the future. The command would be in
itself sufficient ground for obedience. But, when
events in your life reveal the hand of God, can you
exhibit any more reverent and acceptable faith, than
by saying: "Asthou, my Father, didst give me
the victory in those well remembered struggles of
the past, so thou wilt lead me to victory, in the gath-
ering conflicts of the coming years ?

There is in this no element of offensive self-suffi-
ciency. It is a grateful recognition cf the doctrine
of divine and human co-operation. Amid the fierce
competitions of the iQth century, which render men
and women more apprehensive than ever about
their personal success or failure, it becomes us to
re-assure our anxious hearts from experience, in
conjunction with Revelation. The unmistakable
presence of God with us, in certain emergencies of
the past, italicizes and emphasizes the promises of
His presence in the crises of the future. What

270 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

greater folly than to throw away these treasures o.f
precious recollection !

I have brought out so fully two of the offices
of memory, that they need no further elucida-
tion. Hearken to these blended voices of warning
and of encouragement. But the treatment of the
subject would not be complete, without the crown-
ing recognition of the union of memory and imagi-
nation, in the transfiguration of life. When the mind
has been trained to examine its acquisitions, one by
one; to discriminate between the bad and the good;
to throw away the former and to preserve the latter;
it is prepared to furnish the imagination with the
richest materials for those ideal creations, the reali-
zation of which exalts character and glorifies God.
The power of the imagination is wonderful, but it is
not absolute. Though her magic wand sweeps the
universe, memory is the original source of those mar-
velous manifestations. Memory might have per-
formed her essential functions, without the existence
of imagination, but imagination could never have
begun her ministrations of beauty and beneficence,
without first receiving, herself, certain endowments
from memory. Imagination creates. She creates,
however, primarily, not out of nothing but out of
something, a something furnished by memory.

Now, it is obvious that the finer the treasures
which memory offers, the richer will be the ideal of
life and character fashioned by the imagination.
Furthermore, though we always fail in the full real-
ization of the ideal, we are, or are in the process of
becoming, essentially, what the ideal requires.
When, then, the imagination receives such winnowed
recollections as have been brought to view in this

MEMORY AND IMAGINATION. 2^1

discourse, and expands them, and exalts them, and
floods them with splendor, till, beyond us and above
us, the distance is filled with forms of light, that
smile and beckon and entrance with song, the past
loses bulk and substance and outline and color, and
vanishes away. Meanwhile, the future is, little by
little, cleared of blank misgivings. There is a reve-
lation of shining possibilities, possibilities, which at
first seem too far away, too ethereal.

But, presently, you feel that this is not a mocking
vision, that it is the ideal of what even you, may be,
should be, must be. The creative imagination has
discharged her noblest office. Taking your best
attainments of other days, respecting your individu-
ality, guided by your personal peculiarities, she has
fashioned an ideal adapted to ' your capabilities, so
that you may recognize a certain kinship to the real.
At the same time, she has so magnified and transfig-
ured every excellence, that, catching the inspiration
of the promise and the prophecy, you are ready to
exclaim with the enthusiasm of the Apostle : " For-
getting those things that are behind, I reach forth
unto those things that are before."

REDEEMING THE TIME.

" See, then, that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as-
wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Ephe-
sians v: 15, 16.

The literal meaning of circumspection is, looking
around. According to the text, there may be a fool-
ish circumspection and a wise circumspection. Solo-
mon says that the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the
earth. Such looking around encircles the round world.
It belts the planet in its favorite quest. That quest is
for all manner of illegitimate gratifications. Against
such a course, the apostle first puts mankind on their
guard. The fool's circumspection often seeks sensual
pleasures, as the chief end of life. The pursuit may for
a time be successful, but satiety finally sets in, and
the bodily organs themselves lose responsive power.
The delights of the senses are not to be contemned.
When moderated, kept incidental, and regulated by
the rights of the individual and of society, they pro-
mote health and happiness, even down to old age.
But the fool, in his all-absorbing eagerness to grat-
ify appetite and passion, defeats himself. There can
be no more pitiful and loathsome sight, than that of
a worn-out debauchee, consumed by cravings, which
he is impotent to satisfy.

Or the passion may be for mere money-making;:
years may only add to its intensity. The chuckle of
the miser is heartiest at four score. But he is at last
smitten with the paralysis of the words: "What
shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and

REDEEMING TEE TIME. 273.

lose himself?" "Thou fool, this night thy soul
'shall be required of thee. "

Is the same word too severe to apply to such as
scheme through life for political preferment? What
has been the testimony of those who, like Webster
and Clay, have trod the high places of power, con-
cerning the hollowness of their careers? In view of
these facts, what shall we say of the spectacle of two
old men, whose average age is more than the three
score and ten allotted to mortals, anxiously watch-
ing the result of the balloting at Springfield, week
after week? We respect both too highly, for other
reasons, to call them fools, but is it not a somewhat
foolish thing, to try so feverishly to snatch one more
honor, just beneath the scythe which Old Time is
swinging around to cut them down? If this be true of
those who strive for so glittering a prize as a sena-
torship, how ridiculous is the circumspection which
is on the lookout, year by year, for ten thousand
petty offices throughout the land.

Other kinds of foolish circumspection might be
enumerated, but these are typical and will suffice.

We study next the circumspection which the apos-
tle commends as wise. It is that which'" redeems
the time," that which wrests time from ignoble uses
and devotes it to the noblest purposes. The search
will reveal things to be avoided, ,,and things, to be
pursued. There are many practices, harmless in
themselves, which a wise man cannot afford.

Various amusements might be specified. Billiards,
chess and whist may be grouped together, as games
which are sometimes wholesome in their influence.
The first develops physical dexterity and mental
concentration. So far, it may be considered a bene-

-2^4 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ficial recreation. Chess and whist, also, combine at-
tention and study, with sufficient of uncertainty to
give them zest. So far as the three are played with-
out stakes, and with a moderation which robs neith-
er regular work, nor more invigorating out-door
diversions, they may be justified. But the moment
that any one of them becomes an infatuation to the
player, it also becomes one of the things which he
can no longer afford. Such infatuation, however,
is so exceptional, that these games do not deserve
the sweeping condemnation which they often receive.
Good morals will be best subserved by discrimina-
ting. Billiards is the most dangerous of the group,
because of its common associations. Billiard tables
in a private house, or in a college gymnasium, with
no liquors near, seldom do any damage, after the
novelty has ceased. They work their own cure. It
goes without saying, that whist parties, with wines
and late hours, are an abomination. The inveterate
chess player is so rare an exception, that he hardly
deserves to be held up as a warning.

The more common games of cards fall into anoth-
er group. They call the intellect into action less,
and arouse the sensibilities more. For this reason
they are more likely to run to excess. The element
of chance in them is always an exciting element.
Experience clearly proves, that it is very difficult to
secure moderation. A soldier in a frontier fort,

v

without books, and without anything better to busy
mind and body with, would be excusable for whil-
ing away the heavy hours at euchre. If Robinson
Crusoe and his man Friday should every day try to
relieve thus the desolation of their island life, the
recording angel would not write it down against

REDEEMING THE TIME. 275

them. B^tt card playing is a practice which a college
student cannot afford. The principal reason is the
fearful waste of time which should be devoted to
other purposes, to games that invigorate and build
up the body, and to studies that strengthen mind
and make manhood. This is not Puritanism, or
cant, or superstition, or old-fogyism. It is a direct
appeal to your personal observation. It is the stand-
ing case of paste-boards versus books. The two
cannot be reconciled. I call uponCrampton Hall
yonder to be my witness. There is in our institu-
tions of learning no other practice, which so gener-
ally lowers the recitation grade, as this widespread
practice of card playing. Gentlemen, redeem from
this your time, as you prize scholarship.

Apply the same general principle to the dance
and the theatre. Do not split hairs in trying to de-
cide about the right and wrong in the amusements
themselves. Simply ask yourself what, not as fools,
but as wise, you can afford. Make your own rules,
in view of what you owe to yourselves and to others.
Do not try to escape this discipline in life, by asking
somebody else to formulate a code of laws, with a
specific "thou shalt," or "thou shalt not," for every
case. You certainly cannot afford anything which
will corrupt your imagination, or lower your moral
tone, or waste your energies, or lead others into
peril. Circumspection will soon settle the tendency
of such practices, and that tendency will soon settle
the question of obligation. Most beneficial is the
moral thoughtfulness produced by a personal re-
view of all these debatable subjects, and the decision
of your duty in the premises.

Be circumspect in companionships. There are associ-

276 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ations which you cannot afford. You owe much in.
the way of service to those who are degraded in
rank and character. You are not at liberty to ex-
clude them from your presence, but you -must seek
them, with the deliberate purpose of lifting them to
a higher level. That purpose will be your personal
safeguard. But it is a very different thing when you
court their society, simply because you find there
certain fascinating evil traits, which derive their
charm from a curious blending of good and bad.
There is a strange infatuation on the part of many,
who do not intend to give up their moral principles,
in hovering around others, who are known to be not
quite reputable characters. It is like the disposition
of boys to skate around a hole in the ice, and see
how near they can go without getting in. Like the
boys, they never give it up till they do get in. It is
marvelous how much moral exposure a man can
meet without harm, in labors of love. He is like
the physician, who moves about securely in the midst
of all manner of contagious diseases. But let him
abandon his benevolent purpose and, somehow, he
will be as susceptible as any to contamination. There
is in the minds of many who do not intend ever to
cross the bounds of propriety, a prurient curiosity
about some forms of vice. They conjecture about
such shapes of evil, and dally with them in imagina-
tion, till those shapes of darkness seems almost
shapes of light. To those of this disposition, one
who has seen a little more of this wicked world, but
who' has not yet become gross and repulsive, is in-
vested with special charms. He has had experience
from which they half-shrink, and to which they are
half-attracted. They would like, at least, to listen

REDEEMING THE TIME. 2*]*]

to his talk, and to learn somewhat more without
much personal peril. This flatters the object of their
admiration. He serves up in seductive style what
facts he has, and supplies from his imagination what-
ever may be lacking, to gratify the eager listener.
And it is not long before the latter finds his better
purposes relaxing, and his passions sweeping him on
into sin. Dickens is a master in depicting the way
in which the inexperienced lad is thus corrupted by
one who is a little older in. vice, but who retains so
much of the fairness of earlier life, that he does not
startle and repel the other, by outrageous immorali-
ties. Your heart is moved with compassion toward
both. The older has many lovable traits. He has
no set purpose to ruin his associate. He would hon-
estly resent any such charge. He is mainly influ-
enced by a passion to pose as a man of the world
before the younger, whose open-eyed, open-mouthed
wonder is such sweet incense to vanity. You feel
that, though he is culpable, he is not totally depraved,
and you are at a loss how to proceed to convince
him of the damage which he is doing to his com-
panion. If you turn to the latter and try to put him
on his guard, he can scarcely realize that his curiosity
is perilous, or be made to believe that his associate
is chargeable with moral ugliness. Now, if any of
you younger lads are forming intimacies of this sort,
believe me you are doing what you cannot afford.
Be circumspect, not as fools, but as wise. Redeem
your time from this fascinating, but ruinous com-
panionship.

' Be circumspect in yotir reading. Redeem your time
from many books and papers, for these days are evil
in temptations of this description. Without any

278 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES

sympathy with the cry of the "good, old times," it
must, nevertheless, be admitted that there was never
before a period when the perils in print were so nu-
merous and attractive. It is stated, and I suppose
correctly, that, by some perversity in our postal laws,,
in connection with certain publishers, Zola's novels,,
the most corrupting of their kind, are carried in the
United States mails at one cent a pound, while Bibles,
histories and scientific treatises are carried at the
rate of eight cents a pound. I need not repeat what
has been said before, this year, concerning the pesti-
lential nature of the French realistic school of fic-
tion. There is probably very little of this vile stuff
in circulation in this vicinity. One such book in a com-
munity is just one book too many. But, besides publi-
cations of this description, which are outlawed in
decent society, there are others which wear a semi-
respectable guise, receive a sort of endorsement
from the literary world, and so find their way into
the hands of multitudes, who are damaged by their
perusal. Time is wasted, but that is not the worst.
The imagination is subjected to an unhealthy strain,
literary taste is perverted, discontent at common ex-
perience is engendered, and a morbid state of the
sensibilities becomes the chronic malady of the reader.
" Be circumspect." Put all such reading into the list
of things which you cannot afford. Moreover, in
the highest and best range of fiction, there is con-
stant danger of excess. To-day, ten of you are suf-
fering from too many good novels, where one is suf-
fering from their lack. Most of you break the law
of proportion, and give to fiction what ought to be
devoted to biography, history, poetry, essays, and
scientific and philosophical treatises.

REDEEMING THE TIME. 279

Again, the modern newspaper is a combined bless-
ing and temptation. It has become a necessary of
life. Still, with all its rich miscellany of informa-
tion, who is there that does not waste precious hours
in skimming material which is worse than useless
to himself, and to the interests which he is put into
this world to promote. Procrastination must give
way to the newspaper as the "thief of time." Memory
is enfeebled. The power of concentrated and con-
secutive thought is dissipated. Verily, the days are
evil.

Such are some of the loudest calls for circumspec-
tion. I have indicated in the way of amusements, com-
panionships, and reading, a summary of the things
which you cannot afford. Redeem from these your
time, and devote.it" resolutely to the pursuits which
should engross attention.

We profess to be students, but how few of us know
what hard study means? We may spend timeenough
over open books, and try to dignify that as study.
Does it, however, deserve the name? An hour of
fixed attention is worth more than a day of dawdling.
Oh, the listlessness and mental vacuity, which we
call "search after truth!" There is plenty of literal
" circumspection," that foolish looking around, first
mentioned in the text. But how few of us know
what Newton meant, when he said: " I keep the
subject constantly before me, and wait until the first
dawnings open slowly, little by little, into a full and
clear light." Bulwer made it a rule not to study
more than three hours in the twenty-four, but that
long shelf of volumes from his pen, shows what he
meant by study. Dickens is often supposed to have
been a genius above all drudgery. But he declared

2 So SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

rigid attention to be the secret of his success. Said
he: " It is the one serviceable, safe, remunerative,
attainable quality, in every study and every pursuit.
My own imagination or invention, such as it is, I can
most truthfully assure you, would never have served
me as it has, but for the habit of common-place,
humble, patient, daily, toiling, drudging attention."
Gentlemen, genius and talent and mediocrity are
under the same law. If you leave college without
having acquired this power of concentrating thought,
your years spent here will be of little value. The
small fund of miscellaneous information which you
may have picked up in a desultory way in the class-
room, in conversation and in rubbing against books,
will only make your weakness conspicuous in the
competitions of life. But, if you have acquired this
power of concentration, it is of comparatively little
consequence how scanty are your acquisitions of
facts, how limited your range of general reading,
how few opportunites you have had for travel, and a
knowledge of men and affairs. You possess the
open secret of success, wherever your lot may be
cast. You can utilize facts, you can turn books to
account, you can quickly master a knowledge of men
and affairs. .

And now, redeem time for eternity. We have thus
far laid the stress on that which pertains to the
earthly life. But do not, I beseech you, confine this
intense thought to these winged years. Never before
have the days been so good, and, also, so evil. The
last decade of the nineteenth century is the most in-
spiring decade in human history. There was never
such zest in existence as in this Columbian period.
What expectations gather round the coming months!

REDEEMING THE TIME. 281

But do not our anticipations of the glory of the city
by the lake, drive from rnind anticipations of the
glory of the city by the Sea of Glass. Enthusiasm
in temporal affairs is laudable, but such absorption
in them grows perilous. Mortality obscures immor-
tality. But what is this momentary throb, however
ecstatic, compared with the power of an endless life?
When the twenty-first century breaks, of what conse-
quence to a single soul here, will all this fine fleet-
ing show be, except as it has told upon our des-
tiny, amid yonder invisible scenes, which are eter-
nal ! Yet this is the despair of the preacher, his in-
ability to make vivid that which everybody knows is
inevitable within a hundred years. The cry of a
child, the bark of a dog, the dip of a sparrow's wing,
will dissipate the most "attentive seriousness in a most
earnest discourse, concerning the issues of life and
death eternal. Is it too much then, to declare these
entrancing days EVIL, when they lead us to jeopard-
ize most precious interests of infinite duration? A
student, above all others, should naturally be per-
sistently thoughtful, on these higher themes. His
daily training tends to foster in him the habit of dis-
regarding present ease and immediate results,
for distant good. All this undergraduate toil, looks
to post-graduate achievement. Why can we not
lengthen the radius, till we fetch within our compass
somewhat of the life beyond the grave? O lads and
young men, check your giddiness, check your de-
votion to the shams and shows of Vanity Fair, moder-
ate your absorbing pursuit of whatsoever perisheth,
be circumspect; look around, away around, make the cir-
cle big. You cannot put a girdle about eternity, but
you may take in so much thereof, that this little life

282 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

which is "rounded with a sleep," shall seem very
petty, yea, utterly contemptible; except as the deeds
done therein, settle your destiny forever. Oh, redeem
the time, REDEEM THE TIME !

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE.

"Every man, at the beginning, doth set forth good wine;
and, when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but
thou hast kept the good wine until now." John ii: 10.

It is a .common characteristic of human nature to>
set forth the best first. You need not travel far for
an illustration. How many sermons disappoint you:
in this very way? The exordium is mellow wine, the:
peroration, "that which is worse."

The principle is sound for the festal, board, but
false when applied to mental and spiritual gratifica-
tion. Yet multitudes of speakers, follow it, although
they know that in so doing, they violate the law of
climax, which is one of the plainest rules both of
common and of sacred rhetoric. You often listen,
with interest, to the first ten minutes of a discourse;
then attention relaxes, and the faculties grow drowsy,
or take wing to and fro through space. Sometimes,
you alone are to blame. Sometimes, the minister is
chiefly in fault. If you go to church from mere habit,
indifferent, expecting to sleep, or to give yourself to
day-dreaming, do not seek to throw the responsibility
upon anybody else. If, however, you are there with
ears to hear, if you listen readily for awhile, and
then find yourself yielding to a mesmeric spell, or
wandering aimlessly in your thoughts, it is likely
that the speaker has exhausted his good wine, and is
giving you something cheaper. This was the worst
defect in one of the most suggestive sermonizers that
I ever heard. He seldom failed to have good wine
in the first half of his discourse, but he was so prod-

284 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

igal of it at the outset, that he often left you dissat-
isfied, at the conclusion. The reason lay upon the
surface. His most vigorous ideas on a subject
would flash upon him in the beginning. He would
dash those off with tremendous energy, and exhaust
his vigor, before he had reached the ordinary sermon
limit. Instead of having the end in view from the
start, he wasted his reserve. If such a speaker would
give you his thoughts, in very nearly the reverse
order, you would receive them all with steadily in-
creasing interest, and the final impression would be
profound and lasting.

But do not suppose that the gospel of Christ is to
be hampered by rhetorical forms. I have in mind
another minister, whose sermons all seemed to be
written with more reference to a particular text book
than to the New Testament itself. As a consequence,
they were artificial, unimpassioned homilies, correct
in syntax, but utterly unfit to touch the heart and
change the life. If we must have either this style or
the other, the other would be preferable. Good
wine only at the beginning, would be better than
wine diluted all the time.j though it might improve
somewhat -toward the last. Still, the best for the
close, is the rule which your taste approves.

Again, you will often see the temptation to strike
twelve, first, illustrated in book-making, and that
too, in authors whom you would suppose too wise to
yield. I had not read Washington Irving much for
twenty years, but, some time ago, I thought that I
would renew his acquaintance. And so I got his
masterpiece of humor, Knickerbocker's New York
The first third proved a sparkling delight, brimming
over with quaint conceits, the rest, so much flat

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE. 285

champagne. The secret of the most successful com-
position is, to catch attention in the initial chapter,
and yet save that which is richest for the conclusion.
The intellectual palate is not satisfied without a
dessert to crown the repast.

Leo employed Leonardo to put. a grand historic
scene upon canvas. The artist immediately set about
preparing his finishing varnish. The pontiff, de-
serted by his usual shrewdness, was vexed at the
sight, and exclaimed, that nothing could be expected
of a man who began where he ought to leave off.
Yet the painter understood his art all the time, better
than did the pope.

Pass, next, to society. What is your experience?
In dealing with your ordinary acquaintances, do you
not find that they bring out the best, first? Almost
everybody fits up a show-window, in the secret hope
that people will admire that, without prying into the
back room. There is in the world an infinite deal of
fine acting which never comes upon the theatre
boards.

Two strangers meet, and, as a rule, each will try
to make upon the other a favorable impression.
Each will take pains to exhibit his more attractive
qualities, and to hide whatever is repellant. When
they part, it will be with a higher mutual estimate
than facts would justify. No harm is done. Indeed,
it is better for society in general, that its members
should make some little effort to win one another's
regard, by displaying the agreeable in the fore-
ground, and keeping the disagreeable i-n the back-
ground. Even thus, we shall find out enough that is
bad, enough to put us out of conceit with human
nature.

286 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

There is always prevalent in the community, a
spirit of detraction, which will see to it that no in-
dividual shall get more credit than he deserves. If
you succeed in putting yourself a little above par with
an acquaintance, you may be sure that he will meet
some mutual acquaintance who will discount that
over-estimate, so that, in the end, you will pass for no
more than you are worth. Society is a self-con-
stituted board of equalization, which, in general,
settles quite fairly the value of all. It is amusing, to
watch this play and counter play, to see the individ-
ual busy Math his fine self-parade, airing his ex-
cellencies, and making his handsomest bow, this way
and that, to the passer-by, while society, behind his
back, quietly jots down his short-comings, his half-
hidden meannesses, his unconscious vanities, and
spreads all upon the record, for the world to read.

Bring the same idea to bear upon the smaller circle
of friendship and intimacy. Recall the lessons
taught. All your life, your soul has been reaching
out and trying to cling to other souls. In some in-
stances, it has not been deceived; but, in too many
cases, it has been finally driven back in disappoint-
ment upon itself. You have repeatedly said to your-
self, I have at length found the friend whom I have
so long sought in vain. This one will be to me as
David to Jonathan. He will sympathize with me in
my aspirations, counsel me in perplexity, help me in
trouble, stand by me in peril, cherish my good name
as his own, dispute the whispers of calumny, watch
over my interests, plan for my advancement, tell me
lovingly of my faults, be quick to encourage ex-
cellencies, and rejoice in my successes, as if they were
his own. I can read all these things, in our first in-

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE. 287

terview. For awhile, anticipations seem realized, but,
some day, you tell him whatever is in your heart, you
keep back no fear, desire, hope. There is a moment's
pause, and then, though the response is, in form,
satisfactory, your intuitions tell you that there is
something lacking. You miss you know not what.
You wish that you had not gone so fast; that you
had not said so much. You have given more than
you receive. It is in the exchange of that which
pertains to this inner life, that the soul feels bitterest
about being cheated.

Or, again, it may be that in your day of disaster,
you look that way for comfort and an uplifting
hand, and you receive only such stereotyped words
of condolence as are kept in stock, ready-made for
any applicant; while aid is given in a mechanical,
perfunctory fashion, which hurts more than it heals.
Or you learn that when your good name was assailed,
your supposed friend simply said nothing, because
he lacked courage to face abuse, and thus, by his
silence, helped on the calumny. Or, perhaps, at
some turning point in your history, when he might
have done you invaluable service, he failed to do so,
simply because he did not think of it, and you know
that he would have thought of it, had he been what
you supposed. Or you hear of his mentioning to
others those faults in you, the existence of which he
has never so much as hinted to you, faults which he
ought to have put kindly, but plainly before you, in
some hour of sacred confidence. In the same con-
nection, you notice a puzzling reticence about letting
you know that there are in you growing excellencies
in manhood, that your work in life is gaining in
weight and bulk, or that, if not increasing in quantity,

288 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

it is taking on a finer and more spiritual quality,
year by year. Moreover, when you go to him in-
genuously and impulsively, with some little triumph,
supposing that of course your joy will be his joy,
there is just a half-perceptible coldness, 'which
sweeps over you like an ague chill, and sets you to
calling yourself a fool, for not keeping your thoughts
at home. Now, how came you to get into such
trouble? How did that man secure your unlimited
confidence? The text guides to the secret. When
he met you, he set forth his good wine first. You
took it eagerly. It intoxicated your senses. You
thought that a fair sample of an exhaustless stock in
store. You gave yours.elf up to the delusion, which
was delightful enough, till the day of revelation.

Now, consider the contrast in our experience with
Christ. He furnishes the best for the last. There
are believers, who are always sighing, and singing:

" Where is the blessedness I knew,
When first I saw the Lord?"

But reasons are not difficult to find. In these in-
stances, the emotional nature is predominant. The
transition from death to life is attended by a convul-
sion of feeling, which makes a profound impression
upon the individual. He recurs to it, and magnifies
it as the crisis of destiny. He belittles everything
else in comparison. He depreciates the gradual un-
folding of Christian truth, and the steady develop-
ment of religious character, till, in time, the couplet
quoted is an accurate transcript of his inner life.
The longer he perseveres in this habit of contrasting
all else with the vivid experience of the hour of con-
version, the less likely is he to become a useful, ag-

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE. 289

gressive Christian. Both saints and sinners weary
of one who can do nothing but wring his hands, and
bewail an enthusiasm which was born and buried on
the day of regeneration. They feel that spiritual
infancy should put off its swaddling bands, and grow
toward fullness of stature in Jesus.

A clear and dazzling view of the Redeemer's love,
in conversion, is an occasion for thanksgiving,
provided it does not blind the soul to future displays
of the Savior's infinite grace, and hinder the indi-
vidual in the practical manifestations of a religious
life. You see, now and then, a Christian, who, like
Lot's wife, is always looking back at that from
which he escaped. Such a one may become a pillar
of salt, but it is by no means that salt of the earth
which the Master desires. It is savourless, worthless
for his uses among men.

There is a much more wholesome conception of
religion. What takes place when the heart is given to
God should arrest attention, but not bring us to a halt
there, in wonder at its happening and in regret that
it cannot be repeated. Suppose that we may never
have again the same spiritual sensations, that is no
indication that there is nothing better in store.
Christ would never intoxicate the soul with bliss
and forever after give it poor wine. He may let you
taste of blessedness in the beginning, but you are
foolish to think that you drank it all, the first hour.
He always keeps for you that which is better than
what you have had. This is the only true and satis-
factory view of the relation of Jesus to the believer.

Notice more particularly the method of his revela-
tion. " He that doeth his will shall know of the doc-
trine." At conversion, you are little more than a

290 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

child with a block alphabet or an illuminated spirit-
ual primer. It is a new thing. You are happy as
you spell out a few words or exhibit your highly
colored pictures ; but, surely you are not going to
be content there. As you grow older, you will not
keep up a lament that you can not still sit upon the
floor and put together your A B C's, and thumb
those gaudy prints over and over. The course
marked out for you by the Great Teacher is pro-
gressive. He expects you to advance, from grade to
grade, in the knowledge of Himself. At the outset, he
appears to you chiefly as the forgiver of your individ-
ual sins, as your deliverer from condemnation, as the
promiser of a place in heaven hereafter. Thus a strong
appeal is made to gratitude. But presently you are
overwhelmed with a sense of your personal unfitness
for such a state of being, and an intense desire
springs up for the formation of a character, which
shall be in harmony with your surroundings, when
you pass from this life to the other.

Thereupon, the character of Jesus begins to un-
fold before you as both model and inspiration.
Where you are weak, you find him strong. Where
you fail, you see him succeed. You detect a shal-
low place in yourself, but when you take soundings
in him, just there the depths are fathomless. You
tell him, all that is in your heart, and never regret
the fulness of your confidence. He is not so occu-
pied with his own affairs that your interests are for-
gotten. When you go to him with your little
triumphs, instead of betraying some trace of cold-
ness or jealously, he meets you with cordial con-
gratulations. Furthermore, you find that all your
draughts do not diminish the supply. What he is to

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE. 29!

you, he is to every individual in the Christian broth-
erhood.

Take the noblest specimen of merely human
nature and it can meet the demands of only a limited
number, Mr. Moody falling to sleep on his knees
in the inquiry room. Man is a cistern, soon pumped
dry; Christ is an unfailing fountain, fed by all the
clouds of heaven. How the view of him expands,
as you see him meeting, not only every demand of
your soul, but also every demand of believers uni-
versally! Constant communion with such a being
purifies and exalts your own purposes. You grow
more and more ashamed of your selfishness. Your
impulses towards righteousness crystallize into shin-
ing principle. You are filled with, not .only a de-
sire to be like him, but also with a belief that you
can be like him in your limited sphere. In that re-
spect there is a marked difference between the in-
fluence exerted over you by contact with a great
man, and that exerted over you by association with
Him of Nazareth.

You may be conscious of a certain uplifting power
in the presence of a mighty warrior, or statesman,
but you are left with a sense of dissatisfaction and
discouragement. You return to your work with
more or less discontent at its pettiness. But such
is not the experience of the Christian in the society
of his Master. Comparative insignificance may be-
come more and more manifest, but, at the same time,
the hope and determination to grow in likeness to
that Master will gather strength with the years.
There is something marvelous about that. Think
of it. Suppose that there were held up before you,
for imitation, the character of Plato, or Socrates, or

292 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Aurelius, or Alfred, or Washington; you might ad-
mire, yet you would answer, Oh no! I can not be like
any one of those. But when the character of Jesus
Christ is urged upon you, as a model, something
within straightway responds, yes I can, and by the
grace of God I will be like him.

Now, infidelity may sneer, but it can not sneer
away a fact like that, which takes on grander pro-
portions with each succeeding year of our religious
development.

Turn, likewise, from these teachings of individual
history, to what is revealed of Christ in general his-
tory. The older we grow in the faith the more
clearly do we discern the influence of the Nazarene
in the world's progress. To our thought, he becomes
less and less "the despised and rejected of men."
Some may try to shut him out of the sciences and
the philosophies and may seek to put him upon the
same plane with Mahomet or Confucius; some may
exalt the "Light of Asia," but He of Palestine will
continue to be the " Light of the World."

The race is fast outgrowing other reformers. He
alone walks in advance of all our boasted progress.
If you are a reading man orAvoman, you come, every
little while, upon some article which labors hard
to prove that Christianity is, or is fast becoming an
obsolete system, that it had its uses sixteen or eight-
een centuries ago, that it -then quickened sluggish
thought and dull moral perceptions; but that, like the
Exodus of Israel in ancient times or the Crusades
of a more modern era, it is one of the spent factors
of civilization ; and that, to depend upon it for work-
ing the present problems of society will only prevent
getting a satisfactory answer. In case you are not

KEEPING THE GOOD WINE.

2 93

united to Christ by a living faith, you may be be-
wildered by these flourishes of rhetorical scepticism,
you may be blinded by such plausible sophistries
and may be led to join in the same silly strain. But
if there be a vital connection between your heart and
the heart of Jesus, the prospect will so open before
you as the years come and go, your insight into the
.spiritual processes which are secretly operating in
human affairs', will be so quickened that you can
smile in perfect unconcern at all this loud talk of un-
belief, about the decay of theology and about an
antiquated gospel.

The material does sometimes seem to be eclips-
ing the spiritual. Multiplied inventions causing the
earth's surface to wave Avith unprecedented harvests,
discoveries showing the globe's interior shining with
silver and gold, trade pushing into the heart of dark
continents, commerce ploughing the waters of every
zone, geology laying bare the strata of the planet,
and lighting them up as a wonderland of resurrec-
tion, and biology pointing to that resurrection and
noisily proclaiming new doctrines of life, all these
may for awhile cry: "Away with Him! Away with
Him!" but they can not crucify 'him out of the
world's thought. They may pierce his hands through
and through, but those pierced' hands will still con-
tinue to hide the leaven of his kingdom, in field, and
mine, and business, and scientific discovery, till,
finally, mankind shall worship him only as Lord of
Lords.

San Francisco, Chicago, New York, Paris, London
may point proudly to paved streets, marble walls, pala-
tial abodes,treasures gathered from every clime, count-
less multitudes surging up and down the thorough-

294 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

fares, railroads groaning under burdens of freight
and travel, and wharves waving with flags of many
nationalities. They may, in contrast, superciliously
ask: " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?"
Discipleship answers, as of old: " Come and see."

Pomp and pageantry are wanting. There is noth-
ing in this quiet village to catch the careless eye. It
is seemingly the last place on earth to sway the des-
tines of mankind. Yet, out of that contemptible
town, with its shiftless inhabitants and its grass-
grown streets, walks a figure that has shaped, as
has no other, the written and the unwritten history
of the race, noiselessly treading the by-ways and
high-ways of reason, directing more and more the
course of human events, quietly ruling where his
presence is not recognized, and, this day, though his
voice may not rise above the din and roar of a thous-
and industries, a KING in disguise, patiently waiting,
till, in the fulness of time, the great cities of both
hemispheres shall unite in ascribing HONOR to
NAZARETH, as standing high above them all, be-
cause from her have issued in the person of the SON
OF MAN those forces which have revolutionized
and saved this lost world.

"I am the vine," said Jesus. Generations past
have plucked and crushed some of the clusters.
They have tasted the new wine of the KINGDOM,
But the choicest vintage is to be by and by. The
best cometh last. Yea, we shall not know its full
flavor, till we drink of it with HIM, Yonder.

SYMPATHY IN SORROW*

It was nearly twelve o'clock on Monday night
when I first heard of the cruel accident which had
shocked this whole community and had overwhelm-
ed with sorrow this beloved family.- I could not
sleep till into the small hours of the morning, for
thinking of the desolation which had come upon a
happy home. The days grew fresh in memory when
he who has long been an honored elder brother in
the ministry was my college tutor, and I read to
him from' Virgil's song of

"A youth full armed, by none excelled
In beauty's manly grace,
Though on his brow was naught of mirth,
And his fixed eyes were dropped to earth,
While gloomy night, as of the dead,
Flapther black pinions o'er his head.

The youth the Fates but just display
To earth, nor let him longer stay,
piety! ancient faith!

Bring lilies here, in handfuls bring,
Their lustrous blooms I fain would fling,
Yet, what avails it now?"

And afterward the college tutor became the vil-
lage pastor, and the trusted adviser of the pupil, who
had himself, meanwhile, become a teacher. Then
there was the romance of life, and the younger
friend stood beside the older friend, who stood in

* Words spoken at the funeral of James W. Tupper, the son
of a life-long friend, Rev. H. M. Tupper.

296 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the church in another town, still nearer the girl who
should one day be the mother of the son who taketh
here his final rest. It is good to recall the vanished
years, years of patient, faithful, fruitful service to
the people years of happiness when the boys and
the girls entered the household. Yes, now that the
bitterness is past, it is good to recall even the year
when that otljer dear son was torn from the family
embrace.

It was only last month, my brother, that our hearts
were full of these recollections, as we spoke to-
gether the farewell words of affection, at the funeral
of a mutual friend,* in the old church where you
used to preach to that friend and to me. As we
turned away from the cemetery, we said to ourselves,
"who next?" Was it not merciful that it was hid-
den from us who the next should be?

The following week, I attended the Home Mis-
sionary Conference, at the Chicago Theological
Seminary. Among the most eager listeners at the
sessions in chapel and church was this your son.
He talked to me happily of his new studies, and of
the ministry on which he hoped to enter by and by.
I wish I could photograph for you his features, as
I saw them last in the First Church and in Carpen-
ter Hall. The face was bright with the light of
young discipleship. That light has faded out of
the countenance in the coffin, but it has grown more,
radiant in the presence of God.

As I recall the earnest deliberations of that con-
ference, the urgency with which the scarcity of edu-
cated men in the ministry was dwelt upon by every

* Major John C. Salter.

SYMPATHY IN SORROW. 297

speaker, the importunate plea made by all the
.superintendents, in the name of pastorless churches
throughout the states of the Interior and the terri-
tories of the West, I grow more and more perplexed
over the distressing event which has brought us
together. In human short-sightedness, I cannot
help saying: I ought not to be here conducting such
a service; this coffin ought not to be in the church;
the Master hath need of thee on earth, young broth-
_er; you should be, this very afternoon, where you
planned to be, studying with fresh zeal, after vaca-
tion recreation, the Hebrew and the Greek, the lan-
guage of the prophets and the language of the
Messiah, so that you may presently interpret wisely
to men the oracles of God; if our youth must be
taken away in their prime, they ought to be stricken
down in the vocations and professions which have
men enough and to spar. They ought not to be
swept from the ranks of the only calling on earth
which is pitifully crying for recruits. Is not the
Master forgetting the necessities of His kingdom?
Forgive us, Lord, that tears blind our eyes, that
grief for the moment prostrates faith, and that re-
bellion drives us to arraign the Providence of God.
In our heart of hearts we know that these great , in-
terests which we love are infinitely more precious
unto Thee; that Thou wilt never abandon the world
as lost, and that in Thy keeping the church univer-
sal is absolutely safe forever.- And then another
protest will rise to the lips. Though these grand
affairs may move securely on, through the centuries,
toward the millennium, is the Master dealing quite
fairly with a faithful servant, who has done his bid-
ding these many years, and who needs a son to lean

298 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

upon as the days draw near that have little earthly
pleasure in them? Is such the pity of the Lord to
those that fear Him? He certainly knoweth our
frame, but does he not sometimes forget that we are
dust? How could He permit this grievous afflic-
tion to overtake one who through life has sought to-
know and to do the Heavenly Father's will? Must
the bruised reed be broken? Must the smoking
flax be quenched? There need have been no mir-
acle. There need have been no voice from the
skies, warning of danger. Some gentle influence
of the Spirit, such as we feel sure often directs
the steps, though men are not conscious of its
presence, might have prevented the catastrophe.
Why was that influence withheld? Could not the
natural desire of a father that his name be perpetu-
ated be gratified, especially a consecrated longing,,
hereditary in the family, that one at least in each
successive generation should be a minister of the
gospel? Does this, the holiest ambition that can
. possess a parent's heart, fail to move the Lord of
Hosts?

Friends, such questions as these are clamoring in
your minds here this afternoon, but you are saying
to yourselves: Why is the speaker voicing inquiries
that he cannot answer? Would it -not be better to
avoid all such suggestions? No. This stricken
household is passing through the supreme ordeal of
faith. For two days and nights such cries have been
fierce in their hearts. It helps them to know that
they are not alone in their dire perplexity. This
pent up distress finds a certain relief in expression.
And God is not at all tried by what you and I are
thinking and saying in this presence. He knows

SYMPATHY IN SORROW. 299

that we cannot help it just now. He looks down
upon the scene with wonderful compassion. We
should not have permitted this calamity had the
control of affairs been in our hands. Certainly not.
Neither would God, had he been shut up under the
low vaulted firmament and hemmed in by the con-
tracted horizon which restrict our vision. But does
that prove aught against his boundless love? Why,
what has God do.ne? He has taken this ingenuous
youth from an earthly career, which had its attrac-
tions. There is delight in the thought that our
finite plans are a part of the infinite plan. There
is satisfaction in putting one or two bricks where
they will stay, in the temple which the Supreme
Architect is rearing for His glory. There is exhila-
ration in knowing that our little stroke is in line with
the majestic sweep of the arm that is omnipotent.

This youth has lost that, but how much has he
been spared? He is freed from watching the ever
widening distance between the ideal and the real.
He need not know what it is to row wearily for a
long life against a stubborn current. He will never
have to contend with the nervous exhaustion of
crowding on some laudable Christian enterprise,
with resources utterly inadequate. He steps at once
from the high plane of consecration on earth to the
high range of possibilities yonder, where work shall
bring no weariness, where aspiration shall meet no
discouragement, where fine achievement shall always
reach its shining goal.

My brother and sister: You gave your boy to
God, for service anywhere. Your faith will not fail.
There must be a struggle. But you will find new
strength in the love of these daughters. Your flock

300 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

will be drawn to you in tender sympathy impossible
before. The sweet resignation with which you bury
your sorrow will subdue hearts which argument
could never influence. And, finally, you will be
glad that God has spared your son such trials as
have marked your earthly ministry and has called
him to the more blessed service of the upper temple,
because the King hath most need of him there.

A GREAT PHYSICIAN.*

With profound respect, with grateful affection,
and with an indescribable sense of loneliness, do I
rise to speak beside the coffin of one, who has been
to me health in sickness, rest in weariness and good
cheer amid multiplied anxieties.

There is no other relation like that to the trusted
physician, who has been in the house when the
angel of life has entered, or when the angel of death,
with his black wings, has blown out the light of the
fireside.

It is almost forty years since in boyhood I first
heard of this then young surgeon's fame, but for
only half of that period has there been a familiar
home acquaintance. That word, familiar, sounds
strangely to many. Say they, any other adjective
would be more appropriate in speaking of the quiet,
silent, reserved, sometimes brusque and distant
David Prince, whom we have nevertheless held in the
highest esteem. I used to think so. Much as I
admired the man's professional skill and blunt sin-
cerity, there was great constraint in his society.
One day back in the seventies, we happened to be in
the same room together alone. There was no escape.
We sat in silence half an hour. We looked vacantly
at each other. Then both began to smile. Then
both burst into a laugh. Then the ice broke up and
went out, as it does in the river in early spring. And

^Address at the funeral of Dr. David 'Prince.

3O2 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

since then, the current of conversation has always
been open between us two, fill now.

One night, a dozen years ago, we sat up till into
the small hours of the morning, discussing revealed
religion and, especially, the revelation of God in
Christ. His words and bearing were earnest and
reverent. Our creeds were in part concurrent, in
part divergent, and we bade each other good-bye,
saying that, whichever was right and whichever was
wrong, if we could preserve that same spirit of
patient docility, we should at length be guided to a
knowledge of all essential truth. Since then, we
have had no long formal talk on such questions, and
it is not wise to speculate upon them in this pres-
ence. I think that if our departed friend could
speak, this is what he would wish to say.

We are here to pay tribute to beneficence of life,
and not to discuss perfection in dogma.

Doctor David Prince was an enthusiast in his pro-
fession. It is peculiarly the profession of the family.
Sons and son-in-law all follow in his footsteps.
Large numbers of the medical fraternity from the
region round about have come to do honor to his
memory to-day. In view of these facts, it is appro-
priate that, here in the house of him who was known
as the Great Physician, we should speak briefly of
this high calling. I believe that what may be said,
would have the cordial approbation of him who is
speechless on earth forever.

There is a current, and there is a counter current,
coursing through the medical profession. The current
is materialistic, and the counter current is theistic.
In following the healing art, the practitioner is con-
stantly attracted to the working of natural agencies.

A GREAT PHYSICIAN. 303

Attention is mainly directed to the action of tangible
substances upon the human system. This magnifies
the relative importance of formulas and recipes and
efficient causes. The physician becomes so absorbed
in tracing the operation of remedies from the dis-
pensary, that he is led insensibly to discredit the
supernatural.

With deep solicitude, do I watch this process go-
ing on, in the minds of some very dear friends in
this noble vocation. They themselves may not be
aware of what is taking place, but it is painfully evi-
dent, that they are losing the vividness and fresh-
ness of an earlier faith. This tendency is greatly
accelerated by brain dissection, and the localization
of functions, in connection with different parts of
that organ. Mind and matter are thus brought into
so intimate relations, that there is special tempta-
tion, to look upon such ideas as conscience, and sin,
and holiness, as the antiquated notions of a dying
creed, and to regard what used to be considered
moral and immoral actions, as physiological effects,
for which the individual is not accountable. The
vivisection of animals, and the comparison thus
made possible between corresponding organs in
brute and man, are shedding some light upon ques-
tions of mental and moral philosophy, and it is
likely that physiology will, in future, make much
more valuable contributions to psychology; but, as
yet, we have not got beyond vague hypotheses and
partial experiments. There are- some shrewd guess-
es at truth and some wild guesses at truth. Amid
the fascinations of inquiry, men are quite as likely
to go wrong as to go right. Inductions are made
too hastily. A fragment is magnified by imagina-

304 SERMONS AMD ADDRESSES.

tion into a supposed discovery startling and revo-
lutionary. The charm of this kind of research is
especially captivating to the younger and more
enthusiastic members of the profession. But so
long as the great question of the relation of brain
substance to thought, and of the nervous system
to moral action, is still under debate, before the-
ories, however plausible, have been subjected to
numerous and unequivocal tests, it should not be
forgotten that, though the scientific imagination has
lofty uses, it is likewise liable to gross abuses.

So, too, when the discussion passes from brain cells
to cell life and germ life in general, though valu-
able results have been reached, and though even
better things are in prospect, it is exceedingly whole-
some, to listen to words like these from one of the
world's greatest scientists: "It would indeed be
difficult, in any other department of human knowl-
edge, to find anything to equal the extravagance of
hypotheses recently advanced concerning living
matter and its properties."

Now educated, thoughtful and progressive physi-
cians, more than any other men, have forced upon
them, by the very nature of their vocation, all these
vague speculations concerning the origin of life and
of moral responsibility. They are more exposed
than any others to the subtle influences of that sci-
entific school, which would exalt efficient causes
and secondary agencies, so as to thrust the Great
First Cause out out of sight altogether, or, at least,
to crowd Him so far into the back-ground, as to re-
move Him, practically, from all present, active part
in the affairs of mankind.

This does not mean that we should, in a cowardly

A GREAT PHYSICIAN. 305

way, flee from such investigations. Let the exami-
nation be bold and . thorough. There is more to
fear from turning the back upon scientific research,
or from approaching it with fear and trembling, than
from engaging in it patiently and exhaustively, in
the candid spirit of Doctor David Prince, who was
ready to abandon any darling hypothesis, the mo-
ment it was proved false to facts. But, gentlemen,
there, is a counter current swift and strong. It takes
its set from anatomy. The study of a human skele-
ton converted Galen, whose disciples ye are.

Though skeptical in his tendencies, he became so
impressed with the evidences of adaptation and de-
sign that were forced upon him, by his constant
examination of the frame work of the body, that he
was brought at last to subscribe, most reverently, to
the doctrine of an omnipotent and omniscient
Creator. At the foot of some dangerous plants, you
may find growing nature's own remedy for any harm
which those plants may inflict. So, while there are
dangers connected with your beneficent vocation,
the blessed antidote is never far away.

Though I have meant to speak plainly of the chief
peril of your profession, no one could cherish a
more exalted conception of the dignity of the physi-
cian, as, at the portal of life, he ushers the child into
the world, as he bends over the couch of suffering,
and turns cries of distress into songs of rejoicing, or as,
till the very last, he blocks the gateway of death,
and fights back the destroyer. Who can over-esti-
mate that man's power for good? In many respects
he enjoys advantages superior to those of any other
mortal. As the confidential medical adviser, he ob-
tains, as nobody else can obtain it, an intimate knowl-

306 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

edge of family history, hereditary tendencies, and
personal peculiarities. While studying the physical
constitution of parent and child, he incidentally be-
comes acquainted with the mental and moral char-
acteristics of both, without their being aware of the
revelation, and, therefore, without any temptation
on their part to assume such disguises as are- often
put on when the minister is making his professional
visits.

So far as personal influence in the domestic circle
is concerned, the physician may out-rank the clergy-
man. The latter has not the same insight into the
general relations of the household, and into the pe-
culiarities of individual members. His calls must
be more or less methodical and perfunctory, and,
consequently, they may not be made at all oppor-
tunely. But the former is sure of his ground,
and he can seize the happiest moments for directing
thought to those interests which reach on beyond the
grave. By the cradle, by the couch of the conva-
lescent, and by the coffin, the voice of the beloved
physician may be sweet as is no other, with heavenly
persuasion.

I wish that it were proper for me to repeat here a
story that I heard last night, concerning the tender
and reassuring way in which this man, so strong and
. rugged, led a timid and shrinking woman down till
the cold waters touched her feet, and her lips were
ready for the song which the immortals sing. I wish
that it were proper to make articulate here the dumb
testimony which is locked up in the breasts of a
great multitude of the poor, both the deserving and
the undeserving, (for his sympathies were so free that
he could not discriminate), whom he visited in sick-

A GREAT PHYSICIAN. 307

ness, without thought of compensation. But that
is not necessary, for it is familiar knowledge to you
all, and the departed himself would protest against
such recitals.

There has been one hard feature of Doctor Prince's
professional life, about which he never complained,
but which ought to be mentioned. It was causedby his
very eminence as a surgeon. He has had to deal
with more desperate cases than any other doctor in
Central Illinois. Besides the natural proportion of
such in his own vicinity, it has long been the custom
of general practitioners, who have not made
surgery a specialty, when ordinary measures have
failed, to summon this veteran, who, it is no dis-
credit to younger men to say, has long held the first
rank here as a surgeon. In dealing with so many
forlorn hopes, heroic expedients have often been
necessary, and, occasionally, good but thoughtless
people, ignorant of the facts, have been unjust in
their judgment of this man of steady nerve, and
cunning hand, and loving heart.

This is mentioned to emphasize the spirit with
which such misapprehensions have been borne. It
is worthy of admiration and of imitation by all pub-
lic men. Doctor Prince never went about making
explanations and excuses. He did not rush into the
papers to air his personal grievances, real or imagi-
nary; but with quiet dignity threw himself back upon
his character, content to let that take care of his
reputation. In this view, would it be any flattery to
say, that the manliest man among us died the other
night? Such an affirmation is not made, but the
question may stimulate beneficial self-examination.

When asked, yesterday afternoon, to say a few

308 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES:

i

words to-day, it was my thought to confine remark
to the relation of the departed to the educational
interests of Jacksonville. But the allotted twenty
minutes have nearly expired in other suggestions,
which perhaps better befit the Sabbath and the sanc-
tuary. I can not close, however, without outlining
a brief, which might be expanded into a long ad-
dress.

In the public library and reading room, many
books and periodicals inscribed with the name of
Doctor David Prince, bear silent witness to his
thoughtfulness for those of both sexes and of all
ages, who are largely indebted to such philanthrophic
enterprises for enlightenment. It was a happy sug-
gestion at the meeting last night, that the city should
honor herself, by making that public library a memo-
rial of him who loved the people. Who can take
the place of Doctor David Prince in the affections of
the pupils and teachers of our common schools?
No one else has been more zealous in the support of
a high school for the sons and daughters of those
unable to pay the cost of tuition for advanced in-
struction. The institutions for the education of the
blind, and of the deaf and dumb, have always found
him eager to aid in magnifying their beneficent work.
The commercial school has prized his kindly appre-
ciation of its efforts to promote system and efficiency
in business methods. Our female seminaries have
lost one of their best friends, an enthusiastic advo-
cate of the highest learning for woman.

Illinois College has enjoyed in him a wise and lib-
eral counsellor. For years there has notbeen formed
for her welfare a single plan, which has not had his
sympathy', verbal and pecuniary. More than once

A GREAT PHYSICIAN. 309

has he said: " Come to me whenever there is a pro-
ject on foot to render the college a greater blessing."
More than once has he sought an opportunity to
make a generous donation before he was approached
on the subject. How many citizens are there left in
Jacksonville who cherish for all our institutions of
learning an interest so discriminating and compre-
hensive, as did the beloved physician of the great
heart and the liberal hand?

Fond father, tender husband, loyal brother, friend
never false, shining light in an illustrious profession,
honor to the city, noble figure in the commonwealth,
model American citizen, lover of every creature that
beareth the image of God, Farewell !

IMMORTALITY.

" If a man die, shall he live again?" Job xiv: 14.

The book of Job may be the oldest book in the
Bible. Criticism shows that the author probably
lived about the time of Abraham, and that strict
chronological order would put the book after a few
of the opening chapters of Genesis. The literature
of the doctrine of immortality embraces several
thousand volumes or parts of volumes. Job was the
first recorded contributor to the discussion.

The general belief of the Egyptians, Hebrews
and Greeks was strikingly similar. The Hebrews
and Greeks borrowed from the .Egyptians. I can
not doubt that the faith in immortality had its gene-
sis in the mind of the first man created in the image
of God. The fact that he was the offspring of the
Eternal would certainly suggest the idea that the
everlasting life of the Father would be imparted to
the child.

But historic data are wanting, for tracing the earli-
est development of that idea. Not till we reach the
records of Egypt do we discover a definite creed,
accepted by the multitude. A love for the abiding
was a peculiar characteristic of the Egyptian people.
The mummy and the pyramid both bear witness to
this fact. No other nation has ever taken such
pains to preserve the bodies of the dead, or to rear
structures which should successfully withstand the
ravages of time. The reasons are largely climatic.
The atmosphere there did not stir the blood, tempt-

IMMORTALITY. 3 1 1

ing to adventure and migration, as did the atmos-
phere of a more norjthern latitude. Moreover, the
beneficence of the Nile was a constant invitation to
remain in the same region, from generation to gen-
eration. Again, the climate was such, that material
structures would neither crumble nor perish, as else-
where. The pyramids there suffer less from the
action of the elements in thousands of years than
they would here in a century. The whole environ-
ment of the people constantly turned their thoughts
toward the everlasting. What suggestion could be
more natural than this: if the body and the tomb of
the body may be made proof against decay, why
may not the soul live on forever? The essentially
permanent conditions of mortal life crowded the
question of immortal life upon the attention of the
Egyptians, as upon no other heathen nation of
antiquity. Their wonderful learning, not content
with a knowledge of the world, sought to follow the
stars in their courses, and then, unabashed, filled the
invisible with its speculations.

Out of the Egyptian conception grew the He-
brew doctrine of the other life. Job was an Arabian
patriarch.' Living at no great distance from Egypt,
he received from that region some notion of another
world, as the abode of the dead. He was, however,
too far removed, to borrow the creed entire. He
sought, through his own philosophizing, to complete
a system of belief, respecting the destiny of the
soul. The text introduces him at this stage in his
speculations. The patriarch had no clear idea of
immortality. He was not even a believer in the doc-
trine of the resurrection. We often quote, at the
grave-side, those beautiful words from his lips: "I

312 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall, at
the latter day, stand upon the earth." We apply the
passage to the Messiah and the final resurrection; and
it does express a precious truth, with rare felicity.
But an examination of the text, in the light of the
context, proves conclusively, that, in uttering it, Job
had no thought of a coming Christ, or of the ris-
ing from the dead. He was only voicing an unshak-
en faith in God, as his vindicator in the present life.
The prophecy simply anticipated the triumphant
sequel of the story of his grievous temptation. God
did administer a withering rebuke to the patriarch's
accusers, and that " latter day " was the day of his
multiplied worldly prosperity.

In the times of Job, the Hebrew doctrine of immor-
tality had been developed so far as this and no far-
ther : the souls of all live on in a shadowy Under-
world ; there is no suggestion of reward for the
righteous ; there is a single intimation of possible
retribution for the wicked. Examine the books of
Moses and many of the books which follow them, and
you can not discover a single distinct, unmistak-
able avowal of a belief in the doctrine in question.
Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Joshua and the
Judges all talk most fluently concerning an earthly
Canaan ; but they have not a word to say concern-
ing a heavenly Canaan. Even when, they stand up-
on the brink of the grave, they express neither hope
nor fear, respecting what may lie beyond, in realms
invisible.

The translation of Enoch and of Elijah was a
miraculous termination of earthly careers, but it had
no special bearing on this subject. We believe that
Enoch and' Elijah were taken to the presence of

. IMMORTALITY. 313

God, to dwell there forever, but there is no such
plain statement in Genesis and Kings. We suppose
that all those ancient worthies cherished some such
creed as Job's, in respect to the continued existence
of the soul ; but we have absolutely no testimony
from their own lips, to that effect. The first half of
the Old Testament contains no authoritative THUS
SAITH THE LORD, on the question of an endless life.

You do find, scattered here and there, hints, sugges-
tions and anxious inquiries, but nothing more. We
are so accustomed to reading into those old records
the revelations of later ages, that we fail to realize,
how dense was the darkness then enveloping this
question, even -among God's chosen people.

The practice of necromancy in the reign of Saul
indicates that a belief in the soul's future existence
was spreading among the Israelites. When, at
length, you reach the Psalms of David, the idea be-
gins to crystallize, and to exert a spiritual influence,
till then unknown. God so quickened the poetic in-
sight of the shepherd king, as to let in new gleams
of light, and to excite a deeper interest in the prob-
lem of the soul's destiny.

The Psalmist is also the first Hebrew writer to an-
nounce the doctrine of future retribution. Whether
the word be translated Hell, or Hades, or the grave,
the idea of penalty will cling to the verse: "The
wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations
that forget God." Similar views are declared by
several of the succeeding prophets, but by none so
clearly as by the Psalmist, until you come to this pre-
diction by Daniel, which is the most vivid language
in the Old Testament, on the doctrine of immor-
tality. "And many of those that sleep in the dust

314 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life,,
and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And
they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of
the firmament ; and they that turn many to righteous-
ness, as the stars, for ever and ever." Fitting pre-
lude to the advent of HIM, who was and who is the

RESURRECTION and THE LIFE!

Plato's Dialogues embody the world's most ad-
vanced thoughts on immortality prior to the Christian
era. The topic was exceedingly fascinating to that
philosopher. He refered to it, incidentally, in the
discussion of many other subjects, subjects which
would seem to have with it only the remotest con-
nection. But the Phaedo and the Apology contain
his clearest utterances. From these I quote briefly:
" Like children, you are haunted with a fear, that
when the soul leaves the body, the wind may really
blow her away and scatter her, especially if a man
should happen to die in stormy weather, and not
when the sky is calm. That soul which is pure, her-
self invisible, departs to the invisible world. Thither
arriving, she lives in bliss and is released from the
error and folly of men, their fears and wild passions,
and all other human ills, and forever dwells in com-
pany with the gods." " Those who are remarkable
for having led holy lives are released from this
earthly prison, and go to their pure home, which is
above, and dwell in the purer earth. And those who
have duly purified themselves with philosophy, live
henceforth altogether without the body, in mansions
fairer than these, which may not be described, and
of which the time would fail me to tell. Those,
again, who have committed crimes, which, although
great, are not unpardonable, are plunged into Tar-

IMMORTALITY. 315

tarus, the pains of which they are compelled to
undergo for a year. But those who appear to be in-
curable, by reason of the greatness of their crimes,
are hurled into Tartarus, which is their suitable des-
tiny, and they never come out." " Either death is
a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or
there is a change and migration of the soul from
this world to another. Now, if you sxvppose that
there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep
of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of
dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. But, if
death is'the journey to another place, what good, O
my friends and judges, can be greater than this?
If, indeed, when the pilgrim arrives in the world
below, he is delivered from the professors of jus-
tice in this world, and finds the true judges who are
said to give judgment there, Minos and Rhadaman-
thus and yEacus and Triptolemus, and other sons of
God, who were righteous in their own life, that pil-
grimage will be worth making. What would not a
man give, if he might converse with Orpheus and
Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if this be
true, let me die again and again."

This is the tide mark of ancient philosophy on
the doctrine in question.

Dropping now, for a few moments the line of his-
torical investigation thus far pursued, let us examine
some of the natural suggestions of immortality.
The first of these comes from a study of the consti-
tution of the soul.

Monism or Dualism? Is there in the universe but
one kind of substance, or are there two kinds of sub-
stances? This question has 'crowded itself upon
the attention of men in every generation. Some in

316 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

every generation have believed that there is only
one substance, and that that substance is matter.
Some in every generation have believed that there
is only one substance and that that substance is spir-
it. But the vast majority, both of the learned and
of the unlearned, have been confident that there are
two substances, matter and spirit, each in its nature
distinct from the other. According to this creed,
these two substances are closely and mysteriously
united in the earthly life of man. When that earthly
life ends, what is the fate of the two substances?
What becomes of the matter? What becomes of
the spirit? The two evidently part company. In
the article of death, the last manifestation of the
spirit to the senses disappears. Then the material
form gradually decays, and is lost sight of among
the elements. Science teaches that not a particle is
destroyed, but that every particle is put to use, in
some of the various economies of nature. The body,
as a body, is gone forever; but its component parts
continue to exist eternally, in ever changing com-
binations.

The spirit, however, eludes all the tests of physi-
cal science. Does, then, death end all spiritual ex-
istence? Such inquiries will not be hushed. They
clamor importunately for an answer in every age.
Many, even of those who have regarded matter and
spirit as one, have recoiled from the thought of the
utter extinction of the latter, and have maintained
that, on the dissolution of body and soul, the spirit,
in some mysterious way, associates itself with the
less gross and .tangible material forms of earth, or
air, or cloud, or fire.

This was, more especially, the doctrine of ancient

IMMORTALITY. , 317

materialists. Modern materialists, under the lead-
ership of such men as Bain, indulge less in such
speculations. Take the following favorite defini-
tion:

"There is one substance with two sets of proper-
ties, two sides, the physical and the mental, a
double-faced unity." Logically, such a definition,
as a first principle, leads to the creed, that the earth-
ly life of the soul is the limit of its existence. The
materialist of to-day does usually manifest reluc-
tance about putting the doctrine into dogmatic
form, and takes refuge in an agnosticism, which is,
however, very transparent. Every man does know,
and, if he will give up all evasion and equivocation,
he must acknowledge, that, if matter and spirit are
nothing but a " two-faced unity, " after that unity is
destroyed, nothing worthy of the name of existence
can be properly predicated of spirit. There is no
plausibility in any argument for the immortality of
the soul, unless you condition it on the assumption
of dualism, of the doctrine of two essentially differ-
ent substances.

But the granting of this postulate by no means
establishes the doctrine. r ' It only removes you from
ground where proof is impossible, to ground where
proof is possible. It is not conceivable that the
same substance can be and not be at the same time.
When, however, the admission is made, that there
are two substances distinct from each other, you
can, without any inconsistency, claim that the de-
struction of one does not necessitate the destruction
of the other. But, whether the destruction of the
one is, in fact, accompanied by the destruction of
the other, is still an open question. To settle that

318 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

question, neither mathematical demonstration, nor
chemical tests, can be employed. The argument
must be one of analogies and probabilities. You
cannot be too cautious in choosing your analogies.
A captivating analogy often leads to a conclusion
not anticipated. For instance, it was a favorite
idea with many of the ancients, that the relation of
the spirit to the body, was like that of music to a
musical instrument. At the first blush, the thought
is very pleasing. But to what doctrine does it lead?
When you destroy the instrument, do you not de-
stroy the music? It is obvious that such an anal-
ogy, if accepted, would be subversive of the doctrine
of immortality.

The instrument and the music are, at the first
glance, seemingly so different, that you may sup-
pose yourself in the presence of two substances, but
closer inspection shows that you have before you
only two different manifestations of the same sub-
stance, one revealed through the sense of touch, the
other through the sense of hearing.

Now change the analogy thus: consider the re-
lation of the spirit to the body like that of the mu-
sician to the instrument. Then make the analysis,
and you find two distinct factors. Destroy the mu-
sician and the instrument may remain. Destroy the
instrument and the musician may survive.

Make another supposition: consider the relation
of the spirit to the body like that of the musician to
the music. You still have two things distinct in
kind. Destroy the musician and the music is de-
stroyed. But, in destroying the music, you may, or
you may not destroy the musician. Everyone
would consider this third analogy unsatisfactory.

IMMORTALITY. 319

You feel that there is no propriety in saying that
the body is the product of the spirit, as music is the
product of the player or singer. Let us revert, then,
to the second analogy. That cannot be made to go
on all fours, still it is fairly satisfactory. Conscious-
ness testifies that the spirit does use the body, as the
violinist uses the violin, to accomplish certain pur-
poses. In either case, the excellence of the instru-
ment is essential to the excellence of the product.
Spirit prizes a perfect organism, just as the violinist
prizes a Cremona. Still, fine spirit may work won-
ders with an unstrung organism, just as the skillful
performer may astonish us on a cheap fiddle. An
.artist will do better with a cheap fiddle, than a
bungler with a Cremona. Moreover, in the case of
the poorest performer with the poorest instrument,
it is always the fiddler, and not the fiddle, that holds
the bow. Spirit rules. Body is ruled.

In a general way the parallel holds good. As we
proceed, however, we must not lean too heavily upon
any figure of speech. We know that the destruc-
tion of the musician does not necessitate the destruc-
tion of the instrument, and that the destruction of
the instrument does not necessitate the destruction
of the musician. Unquestionably, each may exist
without the other. But can we say with equal cer-
tainty, that the body can exist without the spirit, and
that the spirit can exist without the body? We
should trust analogy no further. At this point we
must abandon rhetorical language. We first turn to
experience for light. We see the musician de-
stroyed, yet the instrument remains unharmed. But
so soon as the spirit quits the body, we invariably
find that the body begins to decay. We may say

320 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

that, theoretically, this is not necessary, still, prac-
tically, it always takes place, when nature has her
way. It is conceivable, that the body might remain
precisely the way it is, yet it never does.

Again, we see the instrument destroyed, and the
musician live on. But, when we see the body de-
stroyed, we do not ever see the spirit live on. On
the other hand, we never witness the dissolution of
the spirit. We are here upon the border line of a
different realm. We cannot declare with absolute
certainty, either that the soul lives, or that it dies.
Having, now, passed beyond the province of expe-
rience, we must construct our argument of probabili-
ties. The spirit may live on. Is it likely that it
does live on?

We find in every sound mind a passionate desire
for immortality. How shall that desire be inter-
preted? Is the desire a reasonable ground for the
belief? No one would be so foolish, as to maintain
that a desire is in itself conclusive proof of the real-
ity of its object. Numerous instances might be
cited in which individuals and even large bodies of
men have cherished desires, which reached out after
nothing but the most mocking delusions. But when
you come to a desire which is universal, you . touch
the vital chord which throbs eternally between the
heart of man and the heart of the ever-living God,
The pulsations may be quick, full, distinct, exultant,
or they may be sluggish, thin, nerveless, despond-
ent: but the current never ceases utterly between
finite spirits here and the Infinite Spirit yonder. The
legitimate and natural product is belief in immortality ..
That belief may range from vague conjecture to
clearest conviction; but some degree is found.

IMMORTALITY.

321

whether you turn to barbarism, or civilization,
whether you question the clown, the poet, or the
philosopher. From the very nature of the human
constitution, we are compelled to trust this uni-
versal teaching of this universal desire. We have
reached a fact beyond which we cannot go, and
which it is the highest wisdom to accept with all its
consequences.

This belief is confirmed by several suggestions.
It meets our sense of justice. If death ends all, our
ideas of fairness are outraged. The earthly life of
the wicked and the righteous arraigns the righteous-
ness of God's government. The prosperity of the
bad and the misfortune of the good have no solu-
tion, unless there be a future life to rectify the evils
of this. The Creator's present administration is
subversive of every conception of right and wrong,
if the soul perishes with the body. Yet these diffi-
culties find easy solution in the glory of the ever-
lasting. Of what consequence are the privations
of the virtuous or the gratifications of the vicious,
if the possibilities of seventy years be set over
against the possibilities of eternity?

But it is when we study the highest capacities and
aspirations of the soul, that natural theology de-
clares most clearly, that a benevolent Creator can
not excite his creatures with such entrancing visions
and then overwhelm them with despair. That is
God's own voice, not articulate to a listening world,
not committed to any Holy Scriptures to be read
from generation to generation, but speaking to the
heart of hearts, as a revelation direct and personal,
whenever there open out before the soul the shining-
possibilities of knowing and being and doing, world

322 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

without end. There you reach the richest interpre-
tation of the power of the everlasting life. Wher-
ever, since the morning stars sang together, man or
woman has asked the question, "WHAT is TRUTH?'
and has patiently sought the answer, and has beaten
against the bars of the earthy and has confronted
the limits of time, the Comforter has whispered IM-
MORTALITY!

Wherever man or woman has been profoundly
moved to become strong, pure, beneficent, radiant
in character; but from weakness and passion and sel-
fishness and sordidness has been grievously disap-
pointed in the result, and has been sorely tempted
to abandon the ideal, the Comforter has whispered
IMMORTALITY!

Wherever man or woman has caught the inspira-
tion of service, and has longed to do something for
the permanent well-being of self and of others, and
.after unspeakable weariness and painfulness, has
looked upon meager accomplishment, and has cried
in bitterness, what doth it profit? Let me eat and
drink for to-morrow I die! The Comforter has whis-
pered IMMORTALITY!

But, not content with this whisper of the Infinite
Spirit to the finite spirit, a compassionate God,
manifesting himself in the flesh, proclaims aloud
from the lips of Christ to all that have ears to hear:
"I am the resurrection and the life. Because I live
ye shall live also. In my Father's house are many
mansions. I go to prepare a place for you. I will
come again and receive you unto myself, that where
I am there ye may be also, that where I am there
ye may be also."

Prepare us, Lord, for this Thy promised appearing. Some,

IMMORTALITY.

3 2 3

worn with the cares of life, may long to be transferred to activ-
ities which are free from weariness and disappointments.
May such more cheerfully obey the command: "Tarry pa-
tiently till I come." Others cling eagerly to the present known,
and shrink apprehensively from the future unknown. Confirm
their faith so that they maybe able to say: "Though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
for thou art with me." Amen.

DIFFERENTIATION IN EDUCATION*

Specialization is becoming year by year more
narrow and inflexible, in all complex mechanical oc-
cupations. The workman is increasingly restricted,
in the scope of his activities. The shoe-maker no
longer makes a shoe, the watch-maker no longer
makes a watch. To-day, the former may fit a heel,
or a sole, the latter may attach the three hands, but,
to-morrow, the former will only cut out a piece for
a heel or a sole, while the latter will be confined to
the second-hand. Great factories, employing hun-
dreds of operatives, are turning out thousands of
shoes and watches. These articles are finer in quality
and vastly more numerous in quantity, than could be
produced when one man prepared, or at least ad-
justed, all of the pieces in succession. On the score
of economics, the new way is immensely superior to
the old way. No one would for a moment advocate
a return to the primitive method. It is true, that,
while the world is so much the gainer, the individual
workman is in one direction greatly the loser. He
does get his proportion of the general benefit caused
by a wide-spread division of labor, but he suffers
from the dwarfing of his intellectual faculties, by
their being withdrawn from a variety of planning and
executing, and concentrated upon a single move-
ment which presently becomes virtually automatic.

* An Address delivered December 30th, 1891, by Dr. Tanner,
as president of the College Branch of the State Teachers'
Association.

DIFFERENTIATION IN EDUCATION. 325

The law of economics is deaf to his prayer for relief.
The law of economics cares only for the quality and
the quantity of the product. The law of economics
is interested in the efficiency of the factory, and not
in the condition of the operative. Such help as the
latter gets must come from sociology, which steps in
and says: "Let the hours be shortened during which
the man or the woman is driven as a part of a great
machine, so that the man or the woman may find,
outside the factory, opportunities for mental as well
as physical flexibility and refreshment."

Now, corresponding with the specialization which
is going on in the mechanical world, is the differenti-
ation which is taking place in the educational world,
though, in the latter, the movement is less rapid and
the revolution less complete. This contrast also
should be noticed: in the mechanical world, the
specialization is more perfect in the higher depart-
ments, while in the educational world the differenti-
ation is more satisfactory in the lower departments.

Let us see whether analysis will verify these
statements. Begin with the kindergarten. Its prov-
ince is sharply defined. It covers the narrow space
between the nursery and the public school, and con-
fines itself to the object lesson method. The nervous
vitality and the rich personality of the. teacher are
daily exhausted for the children.

Advance a little and you come to the common
school. Here the grades vary from four to eight,
according to population, wealth and cultivation.
Educators discovered long ago that it was a great
waste of time and money, for the same teacher to try
to carry pupils of all ages over the whole territory
occupied by the English branches, and that the best

326 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

results were reached where six or eight grades could
be established with from thirty to forty pupils each,
under a competent instructor. There is very little
disposition -to mix these grades. The lower, instead
of encroaching upon the province of the higher, seek
to get better results within their own territory. The
line of distribution may, therefore, be considered
virtually established.

Take, next, the high schools. Their boundaries
are not so accurately marked out as those of the
grammar schools, still their functions are becoming
more and more clear. They have two offices one
to fit students to enter college, the other to give
creditable training in mathematics, science, English
literature and one or two languages, ancient of mod-
ern, to a large number of young men and women,
who are unable or unwilling to pursue a college ed-
ucation.

The ideal location for a high school is in a city of
from twenty to forty thousand inhabitants, for there
it may be made supreme as an object of municipal
affection and pride. Still, the high school will flourish
in the largest cities, and it may be made to do ex-
cellent service in towns of two or three thousand in-
habitants. But this institution falls easily into one
temptation. Patrons, pupils and teachers are prone
to exaggerate its relative importance, and to try to
create the impression that it virtually covers college
territory. The merits of the high school are many
and great, but it is preposterous to claim that it
either does discharge or can discharge college func-
tions. Its wisest friends will discourage all such
false pretenses.

In the domain of the secondary education, we first

DIFFERENTIATION IN EDUCATION. 327

encounter the disposition to assume illegitimate pre-
rogatives.

This tendency that we have noticed in the high
school, is still more manifest in the academy. Some
consider the academy superfluous, now that the high
school is well established, but it is still an important
part of our educational system. Let it, however,
confine itself to its proper office. An academy should
consider it glory enough, to be an academy, without
trying to create the impression that it is virtually a
college. You rejoice whenever you hear of the found-
ing of a Christian academy, but, when its ambitious
friends proceed to christen it as the Smith, or Jones,
COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE, how can you help blushing
for the honor of liberal learning? Such a misnomer
leads the multitude to suppose that there is no line
of distinction between the secondary and the higher
education. It is a much greater honor to be an in-
structor, or a pupil, in the John Doe Academy, than
to be an instructor, or a pupil, in the John Doe
COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE. Would that the average
American citizen could realize that fact! Further-
more, when an academy can have suitable buildings,,
and equipments, and a strong corps of instructors,
without connection with any college, that is unques-
tionably the best arrangement, from the stand-point
of the secondary education. Teachers will take
greater interest in their work; 'pupils will feel more
pride in the school; there will be less perplexity in
discipline, because scholars are more nearly of the
same age and attainments. In short, the institution
will have an individuality and dignity impossible
where the academy is an attachment to a college,.

328 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and conducted, primarily in the interests of the
latter.

But, in this region at least, for many years most of
our academies will be too weak to stand alone, and
will have to be carried on in close connection with
institutions of higher learning, chiefly as preparatory
schools. They were established for that purpose
mainly, and they must be so maintained, while nec-
essary as recruiting stations for the colleges to which
they respectively belong. Though this arrangement
is theoretically faulty, it has some decided practical
advantages. You who are present will testify, that
the students who enter your college classes with the
best preparation, are those whom you have trained
in your own preparatory departments, and that, un-
der existing conditions, it would seriously cripple
your higher work, if those departments were abol-
ished. It is fortunate for a boy to have his prelim-
inary training under the same professors who are to
be his guides throughout his undergraduate course.
This promotes unity in plan and thoroughness in
execution. The situation should not be irksome to
a consecrated instructor, unless he finds himself so
burdened with rudimentary drill that he has not
sufficient energy for his duties as a college professor.
That danger ought to be narrowly watched in the
management of the institution.

But, while we comfort ourselves thus, and submit
to the inevitable with as good grace as possible, we
need not forget that, as resources multiply and pop-
ulation becomes more dense, it will in time be prac-
ticable to separate the academy and the college, as
the two are made independent in the Eastern and
Middle states, and let them thus discharge their re-

DIFFERENTIA TION IN ED UCATION. 329

spective functions. It will be a happy day when
both can be brought rigidly under the law of differ-
entiation.

I spoke a few moments ago of the foolish ambition
of the academy to be considered a college, and of
the damage done in that way to liberal learning.
What, next, shall be said of the college which calls
itself a university, though, from one year's end to
another, it either gives no university instruction, or
only the merest smattering thereof? The writer
once served as the Latin professor in such an institu-
tion. Creditable college work was done, but nothing
more. Whenever our university was mentioned, these
cheeks blushed at the misnomer. It may be replied,
that such sensitiveness was foolish; that in calling
men and women saints, we speak, not accurately, but
prophetically; that the university title is usually be-
stowed on account of the great expectations of the
founders, who anticipate that, in the course of gen-
erations, or centuries, the institution will in its pro-
portions catch up with its high-sounding appellation,
and that by giving the name in advance, the realiza-
tion of the dream may in some way be quickened.
But, is the justification sufficient; is the argument
sound? Who does not admire the pertinacity with
which Yale has clung to the modest words, Yale
College, until the multiplication of her resources and
the expansion of her activities have begun to make
the university title appropriate? Who supposes that
she would have reached that dignity any sooner, had
she been called a university, from the beginning?
Contrast what Amherst and Williams colleges are,
and what a majority of our so-called universities in
the Interior and the West are, and are likely to con

330 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

tinue. Would it not be a sensible thing for the latter
to petition the legislatures of the states to which
they belong, to permit them to call themselves, for
awhile, what they are colleges and to resume their
present ad captandum appellation, when they begin
to furnish, respectable facilities for graduate instruc-
tion? Do not charge the writer with lunacy for
making such a suggestion. He has not gone so far
daft, as to suppose that the Solons of Illinois will at
. the next session, be astounded by any such proposi-
tion. "That strange spell, a name," has such power
over, not only ordinary people, but also over extra-
ordinary people, that we may well despair of ever
seeing a so-called college get sufficient dying grace
to become an academy, or a so-called university get
sufficient dying grace to become a college, though, for
the sake of common honesty, and for the honor of lib-
eral learning, both consummations were devoutly to
be wished.

The law of differentiation is the law of progress
in the higher education. Careful analysis separates
the college idea from the university idea. The for-
mer looks to the boy, the latter to the man. The
former depends chiefly upon the recitation method,
the latter upon the lecture method. The former ex-
alts discipline, the latter exalts information. The
former is the logical antecedent of the latter. Each
will produce richer fruits when severed from the
other. The best college work is done where the
university idea is excluded. The best university
work is done where the college idea is excluded. It
is my belief that, in the future, Williams and Am-
herst will furnish a more excellent quality of strictly
college instruction than Yale and Harvard, simply

DIFFERENTIA TION IN ED VGA TION. 3 3 I

because that is the highest ambition of the former,
while the latter are captivated by the university idea.
Moreover, it would be a happy change for the latter
if they could henceforth discontinue their under-
graduate departments, and devote their vast resources
and noble material and intellectual facilities for in-
struction to university extension, graduate courses,
and the ever-multiplying and expanding realms of
original research. The people would be the gainer,
the institutions themselves would be better satisfied
with what they were doing; and varied and profound
scholarship would be more rapidly promoted. I ad-
mit that such a separation could not be effected
quickly. Undergraduate and graduate work have
become as closely associated in those institutions, as
preparatory and college work are in many of our small
institutions in the interior. Still, in the course of time'
such severance may be reached. We need in Amer-
ica, as soon as possible, three or four pure universi-
ties. At present, Clark University is the only one
which adheres rigidly to graduate instruction and
original research. Johns Hopkins is eager to reach
the same liberty. She carries her undergraduate de-
partment under protest. The consequence is, that
she suffers in both directions, and it is probable that,
at no distant date, the mixed relation at Baltimore
will cease, and Johns Hopkins will rejoice in the real-
ization of her ideal of a pure university.

God speed the day ! Following this line of inves-
tigation, I hazard the prediction that, ultimately, at
Cambridge and New Haven, the university will ex-
clude the college.

Now, bring the subject nearer home. Differentia-
tion has made fair progress in Illinois, but the time

332 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

has come for its acceleration. The provinces of pri-
mary, secondary and higher education should be more
accurately bounded, and more generally recognized-
Let the high school, the academy, the college, and
the university seek clearer conceptions of their re-
spective missions in the world of mind, magnify
their own offices, confine themselves to those
offices, and honor one another in the discharge
of functions to which they can themselves make
no legitimate claim. As representatives of the
higher education, we owe to the primary schools,
warmer sympathy and more fostering care.

We ought to extend a more helping hand to all
secondary schools. The exhibition of an apprecia-
tive, co-operative spirit would give great weight to
our suggestions concerning the limitations and the
possibilities of our high schools and academies.
Noblesse oblige!

But have we not something to do besides try-
ing 'to aid in fixing the boundaries of the primary
and secondary schools, and to stimulate the latter to
greater excellence ?

Consistency requires that we should study more
carefully the mission of the college and the mission
of the university. We shall make our noblest con-
tribution to liberal learning in the Prairie State, by
holding before ourselves and our fellow-citizens the
true ideal of the college and of the university, and
by laboring patiently toward its realization in this
dear commonwealth.

What, now, is the situation within our borders?
There are, with college or university names, twenty-
five institutions supported by private benevolence..
Half of these are doing very creditable college

DIFFERENTIATION IN EDUCATION. 333

work. Not one of them is, to-day, doing enough dis-
tinctively university work to make the university
title appropriate. Not more than three have suffi-
cient income to support a strong university faculty,
by which is meant a faculty of distinguished special-
ists in the various departments of erudition.

For the sake of clearness, let me separate all of the
institutions outside of Chicago and its vicinity, from
those in Chicago and its vicinity. Of the former,
there is not one which has, or seems likely to have,
in the near future, sufficient to sustain the eminent
dignity of a genuine university. I believe that it
would be better for every one of them, to devote it-
self exclusively to college functions. I know that it
would be better for the interests of the higher Chris-
tian learning in the State of Illinois. This is deli-
cate ground. This is plain talk. But those present
are not afraid of delicate ground and of plain talk.
Are not the facts as stated? Is not the position
sound?

In conclusion, apply the law of differentiation to the
three other institutions in Chicago and its vicinity.
Two of these have had a most honorable history.
Prophecy utters daily some new and glowing pre-
diction over the cradle of the other. Now, what
would be best for Chicago and the State of Illinois?
Three pure universities? Or, three mixed colleges
and universities? Or, two pure colleges and one pure
university ?

The law of differentiation answers unfalteringly:

TWO PURE COLLEGES AND ONE PURE UNIVERSITY. Ill
the minds of the wisest disinterested educators, the
North-Western and Lake Forest have gained their
reputation chiefly through the excellence of their

334 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

merely college work, and not by annexing already
established professional schools. The two are, as
yet, essentially colleges. For the proof of this state-
ment, devote a day to hard study of their catalogues
for 1891. The speaker has no doubt that the finest
possibilities for both would lie in concentrating
their energies for the future on college work. The
speaker has no doubt that the finest possibilities for
Chicago University would lie in concentrating its
energies, from the beginning, on university work.
The genius of Lake Forest and the North-Western
is the college genuis. The genius of Chicago Uni-
versity is the university genius.

THE RELATION OF THE CHURCH TO THE

COLLEGE*

The invitation to speak upon this topic came
written upon the letter-head of an insurance com-
pany. That fact, seemingly insignificant, suggested,
however, the general outline of the paper now pre-
sented. Said I to myself, the relation between the
church and the college, is, in the common language
of insurance circles, emphatically, a relation of
"mutual benefit."

I glanced again at the letter-head, and read this
motto: -"We hold thee safe." Said I to myself,
that is precisely the sentiment which the churches
should cherish toward the college, and which the
colleges should cherish toward the church : " We
hold thee safe."

Your attention is therefore invited, for twenty
minutes, to these three particulars: mutual benefit,
mutual danger and mutual security.

First: as a matter of. history, what have the
churches done for the colleges? But for the former,
the latter would never have come into existence.
Take a dozen typical examples, partly from the East
and partly from the West. Within twenty years
after the landing of the Pilgrims, the corner stone of
Harvard was laid, with psalm and prayer, by those
who "dreaded to leave an illiterate ministry to the
churches, when their ministers should lie in the
dust." Clergyman and layman vied with each

*An Address before the Congregational Club of Chicago.

336 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

other in Christian liberality. Rev. John Harvard
gave his $4,000, and thus, though he had no such
thought, secured for himself what is to-day the most
conspicuous monument on the western continent.
Then there was his humblier brother in the pulpit,
who, having no money, sent two cows, as his college
offering. And the lowing of the kine along the
River Charles was like the lowing of the kine, as
they drew the ark of God on the way to Beth-
shemesh.

Or, again, you may read of the Christian farmer,
who made his donation of $500, to be paid in corn
and meal, but stipulated that the college should
bear the cost of transportation, thus exhibiting that
combination of other-worldliness and worldliness,
which always gives the Yankee his supremacy con-
cerning the temporal and the eternal.

The charter of Harvard declares this to be the
object of the institution: "The education of the
English and Indian youth of the country in knowl-
edge and godliness." The fervent missionary spirit
of the enterprise is shown by the fact, that the first
brick edifice, having rooms for twenty aborigines,
was called Indian College. There Eliot's Indian
Bible was printed. In the present controversy be-
tween the " old" education and the "new," the jeal-
ous Yale alumnus will subscribe to Cotton Mather's
general declaration, that "the college was the best
thing the forefathers ever thought of," but will re-
strict the application to his own alma mater.

Yale was abundantly blessed with the laying on of
holy hands in her cradle. The republic had in those
days her Magi, her wise men of worship in the East.
Says Ridpath: " 'I give these books for the founding

CHURCH AND COLLEGE. 33*7

of a college in this colony.' Such were the words of
ten ministers, who in the year 1700 assembled at the
village of Branford, a few miles east of New Haven.
Each of the worthy fathers deposited a few books
on the table around which they were sitting ; such
was the founding of Yale College." And why did
they thus contribute out of their poverty? That
there might be an institution for the training of
their successors in the sacred office, so that the com-
monwealth might never lack a learned and godly
ministry. The spirit of the pastor became the spirit
of the flock, until, from all the hills and valleys of
Connecticut, the hard-earned savings of the men,
the contributions of the widows, salt-cellars, spoons,
plates, old pieces of silver and gold, precious from
family associations, found their way into the treas-
ury, to make a rich amalgam for the service of the
Lord.

Princeton owed its origin to the same profound
conviction, that an able, wise and orthodox ministry
could be provided for the churches, only through
the Christian college. The doctrine of Nassau Hall
thus finds expression from the lips of President
Witherspoon, who was also one of the signers of the
Declaration of Independence : " Cursed be all that
learning that is contrary to the cross of Christ ; cursed
be all that learning that is not coincident with the
cross of Christ ; cursed be all that learning that is
not subservient to the cross of Christ." In the life
of Doctor Charles Hodge, you may find abundant
and emphatic endorsement of these as the gov-
erning principles of the institution, from the begin-
ning.

As the eighteenth century opened with the found-

338 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ing of Yale, so it closed with the founding of Will-
iams. Williams also was given by the churches for
the churches. No other motive would have planted
it among the bleak and rugged mountains of North-
western Massachussetts. The men of that genera- '
tion seem to have been divinely impressed with the
idea, that the part of Berkshire County, where noth-
ing else would grow, would produce the richest
annual crop of candidates for the Christian ministry.

Read Professor Tyler's " History of Amherst," till
you are brought into the presence of Jonathan Eel-
wards, the genius of that region, facile princeps among
the brethern. A '' charity fund" was the corner stone
of the college. Said a speaker on the day of
dedication : "This is an institution, in some respects
like no other that ever rose, designed to bestow,
gratis, a liberal education upon those who will enter
the gospel ministry, but who are too indigent to de-
fray the expense of their own induction. It has
been founded and must rise by charity. And any
man who shall bring a beam or a rock, who shall lay
a stone or drive a nail, from love to the kingdom of
Christ, shall not fail of his reward."

And then the same enthusiam of humanity and
Christianity swept westward and the churches gave
to Ohio its Oberlin, and to Illinois its Illinois, and to
Wisconsin its Beloit, and to Iowa its Iowa, and to
Indiana its Wabash, and to Michigan its Olivet, and
to Minnesota its Carleton and to Missouri its Drury.
There are in this region other colleges equally
worthy, but limited time compels me to bring in
only the nearest states, and to let one college in each
of those states stand for all. If you will examine
the early records of any of these institutions, as I

CHURCH AND COLLEGE. 339

have done in more than one instance, you will find
those documents fragrant of the Mayflower. The
younger Pilgrims brought these colleges hither with
them, just as the older Pilgrims brought those col-
leges with them across the sea.

Such has been the service of the American
churches to the American colleges. What have the
latter done for the former? Has the benefit been
mutual ?

From some cyclopedia or biography, I might
bring before you an illustrious succession of college-
bred laymen, who have thought out and ex-
ecuted the noblest plans for the advancement of
Christian civilization. From the annals of the pul-
pit, I might make a long catalogue of shining names,
which the colleges have given to the churches. I
might take you to old Williams, the birthplace of
foreign missions, and bid you listen to the testi-
mony of President Hopkins, the greatest teacher of
the century on this continent.

But we need not go so far. Run the eye down the list
of our own ministers in Illinois. Anticipate, in vision,
the approaching meeting of the State Association.
Many, possibly all of the colleges mentioned, and
others, likewise, are represented by their alumni.
Some of these are Christian laymen, trained in these
Christian colleges, and given back to the churches
to do the Master's work here, in this heart of the
continent, with all its magnificent possibilities.

Others, again, are professors in your theological
seminary, and pastors of your churches; men at
whose feet you love to sit, men who are honored
throughout the commonwealth, and throughout the
republic.

340 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

God forbid, that representing the learning called
liberal, I should be so narrow in thought as to under-
estimate the religious devotion, and the far-sighted
benevolence of Christian laymen, who have got
their education outside of college walls. God for-
bid that I should speak except in thanksgiving, of
the labors of the greater and the lesser evangelists
who had no personal acquaintance with academy, and
college and theological seminary At the same time,
I submit it as a self-evident proposition, a proposi-
tion which these self-taught laymen and evangelists
will themselves subscribe to, that the wisest Chris-
tian philanthropies, and the most beneficent Chris-
tian organizations have sprung from the consecrated
heart and the patiently disciplined intellect of the
laymen and the ministers whom the colleges have
prepared for the service of the churches.

Second! Advance, now, from this idea of mutual
benefit to the idea of mutual danger. The old bond
between the churches and the colleges is growing
weaker, and both are to blame for this increasing
indifference. Waxing fat is acting upon some of our
colleges, as waxing fat acted upon Jeshurun. They
begin to look half contemptuously on their humble,
Christian origin. Non-religious elements are find-
ing their way into boards of trust. An ambition to
multiply departments, to rear costly edifices and to
make a grand parade of all the appliances of knowl-
edge, is over-shadowing the profoundly religious
spirit of an earlier period. In constituting faculties,
the spiritual qualifications of candidates were once
made primary, the intellectual, secondary; now the
order is too often reversed. This sentiment filters

CHURCH AND COLLEGE. 341

down and flows in hidden channels through the
minds of those who receive instruction.

If you will compare the earlier with the later cat-
alogues of our wealthier institutions, you will find
the proportion of ministerial trustees greatly dimin-
ished, unless, as in the case of Yale, the number was
fixed in the original charter. Still more noticea-
ble will be the lessened ratio of ministerial profess-
ors; and, most of all, will you be impressed with
the falling off of young men who are studying with
the ministry in view. We have seen how promi-
nent a part the idea of preparing students for a the-
ological course, had in the founding of these institu-
tions. It is obvious, that in proportion as that idea
is obscured, the interest of the churches in the
colleges will decline.

What should the colleges do to check this ten-
dency? While there is an advantage in having the
pastors of the churches the trustees of colleges,
since they are more likely than others to keep the
institutions before the minds of their flocks, and
since from their training they are more familiar
with educational questions; still the functions of the
trustees are essentially business functions, and, as
the resources of the corporations increase, business
men will become their natural guardians. But the
colleges ought to pledge the churches, that boards
of trust shall be composed entirely, or almost entire-
ly, of wise and earnest Christian men.

What, next, is the duty of such trustees to the
churches in the appointment of instructors? A
board of trust in a Christian college ought to make
it an inflexible rule, never to elect to a professor-

342 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ship one whom they do not believe to be a genuine
Christian. It is not essential, that a faculty should
be largely made up of those taken from the minis-
try. There are a few departments for which theo-
logical and pastoral training is excellent prepara-
tion. But the sciences are becoming so differentiated,
division of intellectual labor is marking out so many
separate provinces of investigation, that specialists
must be sought more and more for chairs of instruc-
tion. The churches ought to recognize this limita-
tion in the range of choice, and ought to be satisfied,
provided none but reverent, out-spoken Christian
men be admitted to the college faculties. Since this
is, and must be the situation, the churches cannot
expect that within these institutions, as they grow
older, so strong a pressure will be brought to bear
upon students, to crowd them into the ministry, as
was inevitable, when the ministerial professors out-
numbered all others.

College presidents and professors deeply deplore
the present drift of their strongest men away from
the theological seminaries and the ministry, the no-
blest vocation on earth. Business, law, journalism
and literature are attracting not a few who are called
of God to preach the gospel. The general religious
life of our institutions of higher learning is improv-
ing. As a rule, the number of professing Chris-
tians steadily increases. Still, nowhere do we dis-
cover the old percentage of candidates for the min-
istry. But we are laboring and praying for such a
baptism of the Holy Ghost, such a manifestation of
the constraining power of the love of Christ among
our young men, that those brightest in intellect and
purest in heart shall fill our theological seminaries

CHURCH AND COLLEGE. 343

to overflowing, to the joy of the churches and the
glory of the Redeemer.

But, while this tendency to separation between
the colleges and the churches is due in part to the
waning supremacy of the strictly ministerial idea in
the former, and to the substitution of secular agen-
cies, the churches have had their full share in pro-
ducing this state of affairs. Frequent changes of
pastorates prevent our ministers from becoming es-
pecially interested in any particular college. In the
days when a man accepted a call to a place where
he expected to spend a large part of his life in the
vicinity of an institution of learning, the welfare of
the latter became identified with his own w.elfare
and with that of his church. He was led to study
the history of the college, to attend its examinations
and public exercises, to pray for it, to speak of it
in the pulpit, to talk about it in the parish and to
urge the most promising young men of the congre-
gation, to seek there a liberal education.

Now, however, the average preacher, expecting to
stay only two or three years in a place, forms no
strong local attachments, lays no broad plans for
work reaching through a long period, strikes for
the quickest results within narrow limits, and gives
no care, no thought to the college between which
and himself a warm affection cannot be cultivated,
on account of his brief residence in the neighbor-
hood. If short pastorates are an evil to the churches,
they are a great curse to the colleges. The devotion
of ministers to colleges, which was the universal
rule a century ago, is now a very rare exception'
Long pastorates and permanent institutions natu-
rally affiliate. But a ministry on wheels, with Jehu

344

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

for a driver, cannot tarry long enough to form a
loving relation with colleges, which patiently abide,
and noiselessly perform their beneficent functions in
the same place, generation after generation. Con-
sequently, the preacher forgets to pray for the col-
lege in the sanctuary, forgets to talk about it in the
parish, and forgets to recommend it to the boys.
Then the church forgets it in the prayer-meetings,
forgets it at the family altar and forgets it in its
schedule of benevolence. Then the associated pas-
tors and churches forget it, in their plans for build-
ing sanctuaries, and planting home mission stations
on the frontier, and establishing foreign mission en-
terprises in heathendom. And, then, at the fireside,
in the temple and at local and general associations,
your sons and mine, hearing less and less about a
college education for the theological seminary, for
the pulpit, for the service of the churches, for the
salvation of the lost, for the crowning of the Christ
as Lord of all, devote themselves to other occupa-
tions and professions, till the on-coming 20th cen-
tury cries in alarm, where, where shall be found men
to preach the gospel to every creature, now that the
world waits expectant for the King of Glory?

This tendency to separation between the colleges
and the churches imperils the best interests of both.
The colleges will suffer more from it, at first, but
the churches will finally be the greater losers. Self-
preservation is the first law of nature, for an institu-
tion, as well as for an individual. A college which
finds that churches do not take sufficient interest in it,,
to furnish it with the necessary money and students,
will turn to a worldly constituency for support. It.
will appeal to local pride and personal ambition. In

CHURCH AND COLLEGE.

345

filling its coffers and its classes, men will be brought
into its board of trust and its faculty, without very
careful inquiry into their religious character. A sec-
ular tone will be given to the institution. Scholarly
indifference will take the place of religious earnest-
ness. The atmosphere of the corporation will chill
devotion. A revival spirit will be stigmatized as
fanatical, and conversions will cease. Such an insti-
tution may get endowments and patronage, but it
will no longer furnish to the churches consecrated
men either for the pew or for the pulpit.

Better things are possible, at least for the churches
and the colleges of the Interior. Let there be, uni-
versally, such a relation as that which Dr. Thwing,
of Minneapolis, is fostering between the churches of
Minnesota and Carleton College; let there be such
a relation as the departed Dr. Goodell fostered be-
tween the churches of Missouri and Drury College,
and all are secure. The churches, providing endow-
ments and students, will thus say unto the college:
" We hold thee safe." And the colleges, giving back
their young men trained for Christian service in pew
and pulpit, will gratefully respond to the church;
" We hold thee safe."

VULCAN AND VENUS,

OR THE UNION OF THE USEFUL AND THE BEAUTIFUL
IN THE WORLD AND IN CHARACTER.

Venus was a daughter of the sea. The graces
formed her train. Earth and heaven were her home.
Universal welcome greets the beautiful.

Vulcan, Juno's son, but not her pride, was a crip-
ple from his birth. Juno, with the temper of Byron's
mother, called her boy a "lame brat," and drove
him from her presence. He became a blacksmith,
and set up his shop in the caverns of ^Etna.

As he stook there one day beside the forge, in
tripped Venus, gathering her drapery about her
somewhat daintily; but she laid her white hand
fearlessly upon his arm, bare and brawny; and
the two were married, while the Cyclops gave them
an anvil chorus, for a wedding march,

The story contains a prophecy, which is even in
process of fulfillment, as we sweep onward toward
the millennium. In the perfect union of the useful
and the beautiful, the highest ideal will find its reali-
zation.

The most obvious application of the principle is
found among what are considered the coarse arts.
Notice the transformation which it works in agricul-
ture. Put the plow of antiquity beside that of to-
day. Study a moment the relation of service and
grace. Mark how these have kept pace with each
other. With every improvement in effectiveness,
the inventor has sought to connect some new charm

VULCAN AND VENUS. 347

of outline, some fresh excellence of finish, to gratify
the natural desire for symmetry of form and harmony
of color. This may not enable the farmer to turn
over any more acres, or to raise any more bushels
of corn from the same area; but it does give a cer-
tain zest to his labor, which he would not experience
if no regard had been paid to his aesthetic nature,
in the shape and ornamentation of the implement.
In the most common-place toil, respect should be
shown to those finer tastes, which are found, at least
in a rudimental state, in every human being. But
let it always be understood that in cases of this kind,
utility is never to be sacrificed to beauty. The laws
of mechanics are supreme. Friction and loss of
power are too high a price for the mere gratification
of fancy. Decoration which detracts from efficiency
quickly becomes an abomination. When Vulcan is
shaping the plow at the forge, let Venus watch in
silence, so long as her lord is fixing the curvature
which will save the strength of the horse and the
strength of the man,, and leave the ground in the
best condition for production. Up to that stage of
the process, any suggestion from Venus is an im-
pertinence. But the moment that point is reached,
the old smith will be tickled, to have her lean over
and whisper in his ear whatever she chooses, about
those finishing touches which she knows will find
favor in the eyes of the farmer boy, will awaken in
him the dormant poetic sense, and pitch his voice
to a song, as he follows in the furrow, while the
meadow lark takes wing and the May morning is
glad.

Suppose the next order to be for a wagon for the
same rustic swain. Vulcan must make strength and

348 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

durability of material, an'd lightness of draft, his-,
prime factors in construction; but his grim face will
relax with a smile, and he will become as docile as a
child, if Venus will tell him, at the right instant, what
pattern of springs and what style of trimmings would
suit her, the next time he comes with Apollo's
horses, to give her a drive along the beach of Pa-
phos. According to Emerson, " the beautiful rests
upon the foundation of the necessary." When r
therefore, the essayist essayed to "hitch his wagon,
to a star," must he not have guarded against all
friction in the running gear, before he attended to
the gilding of the driver's box? In dealing with so
many horse-powers as inhere in a star, the strength
of the traces should be tested first. The silver-plat-
ing of the harness should follow.

But, returning from these mythological and tran-
scendental excursions, let us apply the doctrine to a
motor better known. Bring locomotives from the
round-house. First comes the switch-engine, in all
its homeliness. It must hug the track, To this end
its drivers are cut down. To tighten the grip upon
the rails, wheels must be multiplied and weights
increased. Cylinders are compact and powerful.
Fire-box is hungry and capacious. When Vulcan
turns out such jobs, Venus never goes near the shop..
They are the ugliest creations of his ugliest moods.
This case admits of no relief. The mission of the
machine is simply to move dead weight, at a dead-
march pace, to and fro within narrow limits, with
endless monotony. Everything suggests the dis-
malest drudgery. Grimy iron monster, grimy engi-
neer, grimy stoker look alike melancholy. Can you
picture a more forlorn life, than that of two men

VULCAN AND VENUS.

349

who are doomed to run a switch engine? Better
Siberian exile !

Turn now to the freight locomotive. The same
general principles of construction prevail, but modi-
fications are visible. The speed is quickened. The
distances lengthen. The faces shorten. While the
business is still very practical, while the greatest
amount of work, with the strictest economy of
forces, must remain the governing consideration,
there appears a certain poetry of motion, as the long
train seeks its destination. Engineer and fireman
catch somewhat of the fresh spirit of the hills and
valleys, the prairies and forests through which they
pass. They take a certain pride in the gallant iron
horse. To encourage the sentiment, some attention
should be paid to ornament in' the building of the
freight locomotive. Should this call for additional
outlay and extra care, there will be more than a re-
turn in the increased satisfaction which the engineer
and fireman will feel in their charge, and in the
effort which they will make to keep it constantly in
the best condition. On the score of economy only,
due regard to this idea would, in the course of years,
be profitable to the railroad company. Let men be
entrusted with something, which, in its construction,
shows consideration for their finer instincts, and they
will respond to the compliment, with increased
fidelity and cheerfulness.

The thought bears further enlargement, when you
inspect the passenger engine. The business idea
still controls, but, with the doubled and trebled speed,
enters also the new element of gladness. The pas-
senger engine should be among switch engines as
Saul among his brethren. It should rise tall, well-

350 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

proportioned, athletic, prepared as a strong man to
run a. race. Vulcan wants all the inspiration of Venus,
as he brings this his master-piece to perfection. Let
it not leave his presence, until she pronounces it a
thing of beauty. Then study the face of the man
whose hand controls the throttle valve. How it
lights up with affection, as he watches the graceful
swing around a curve, the triumphant sweep toward
a mountain's brow, and the arrowy flight down
through the valley, while the burnished metal flashes
in the sun like silver and gold! He does not talk
about IT, but about HER. His hard tones grow mel-
low, as if he were speaking of sweetheart or wife.
While he thaws out, little by little, as you gain his
confidence, and dwells fondly upon the various vir-
tues of his darling, the stoker breaks in with HIS
tribute to what SHE can do, and you see that her
fiery heart is the altar at which both men worship.
It is well. It is well for them. It dignifies their
anxious, perilous life. They recognize the fitness of
means to ends. They associate their agency with
the admiration bestowed upon their favorite.

Their office is magnified. Their calling is en-
nobled. It is well for their employers. Property is
safer. Those costly equipments, those polished or-
- naments, all that finished elegance confided to their
keeping, take them into a sort of partnership,, and
make them cautious of needless waste and break-
age. It is well for the traveling public. Such a
spirit keeps the eye of the watcher intent upon the
darkness, quickens the instinct of danger ahead,
.nerves the arm, steadies the brain, prevents catas-
trophe.

Leaving, now, the engine in the care of her guard-

VULCAN AND VENUS. 351

ians, lusty and trusty, let us carry our theme back to
the rear of the train, and continue our investigation
there. Did you ever watch the building of a palace
car? If not, spend your next half day of leisure at
Pullman. Go alone. In those long lines of shops
the whole process is displayed. It is a materialized
panorama in wood and metal. Begin with the foun-
dation of solid oak .and tempered steel, and study
the stages of evolution, one by one, until the ideal is
realized, and the palace stands ready for dedication.
No other structure puts into visible, tangible form,
so happy a combination of strength, grace and aes-
thetic adaptation. This cannot be understood until
you first make the analysis, then the synthesis, until
you examine, one by one, the hundreds and hundreds
of pieces of all sizes and shapes, and see them fitted
ed to one another with amazing rapidity, precision
and perfection.

You may witness, in a rolling mill, some single
process which will excite more astonishment than
any single process which falls under the eye at
Pullman, but in the case of the palace car the
admiration is cumulative. Each bit of wood or
metal adds something which you would not have
thought of, of which you see the fitness, how-
ever, as soon as it is employed. As part is joined
to part, amazement grows with a mingled sense
of gladness and oppression, until, like the queen
of Sheba, in the presence of the wonders of Solo-
mon, you find no more spirit in you. The effect
is intensified from the fact that you are not
viewing the structure as you would examine a puz-
zle, or a piece of mechanism fabricated merely to
show what marvels may be effected by the appli-

352 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

cation of brain and muscle to material substances.
The genius of the place is constantly filling your
mind with suggestions of human security, profit,
comfort, delight. Aladdin's palace was tenanted by
creatures of the imagination; but Pullman's palace
opens to those who have body, soul and spirit.
Aladdin's palace was stationary; Pullman's palace,
with no local fetters, now halts at the Grand Central
of New York; and next week waits at San Fran-
cisco's Golden Gate. It has transported across a
continent, without anxiety, the eager financier; with-
out pain, the invalid in quest of health; without
weariness, the aged; with rejoicing, the bridegroom
and bride. The congruity is faultless. The har-
mony is perfect. Vulcan and Venus once more kiss
each other.

By way of reproach, this age is often called an
age of iron, but the reproach is unwise. The cen-
sure would be just, if quantity debased quality; but,
in point of fact, the latter is constantly gaining upon
the former. Invention must make every-day uses
her first study; but she does not consent to place
her work on exhibition, until she has rendered it fit
for consecration to the graces. The greatest triumph
of construction on this continent is the Brooklyn
bridge. When you you consider the prodigious
weight of coarse materials, you anticipate heavy ef-
fects. But study the structure from the upper and
lower ferry boats, steam up under it by moonlight,
ride over it and walk over it at noon-tide, give it the
most critical examination in every way, and the final
impression will be aesthetic, rather than materialistic.
If one has imbibed the notion that, in the ceaseless
rattle of wheels and cogs and cranks, humanity is

VULCAN AND VENUS. 353

losing all finer perceptions, let him subscribe for a
year to the Scientific American, and .make its pic-
tures his object lessons, week after week. It would
be well for us all, to read less machine poetry, and
more poetry in machines. There is a poet's cor-
ner in the Patent Office. Such is the artistic beauty
of many inventions, that machine oil ceases to
offend even the sensitive noses of the muses.

But I am dwelling too long upon plows, and wag-
ons, and engines, and cars, and bridges. Pass, -then,
from the department of mechanics to that of archi-
tecture, which evidently comes within the scope of
the theme. This is decided by the criterion, that
utility is still primary and beauty secondary. The
history of architecture has been one long struggle
to get these two elements properly adjusted. This
is most strikingly illustrated in sacred architecture.
Religion has always used her temples to influence
her votaries, through the eye and through the ear.
In the earlier stages of civilization, the sense of
sight predominated. Scenic effects were sought.
This idea ruled the ritual. It made music tributary to
pageantry. It planned, in rearing churches, to move
the soul through vision. This is manifest in the
vividness of the Gothic style, and in the sense of
vastness produced by the Italian style. The same
impression was deepened by the frescoings and
paintings of the interior. Imposing form and cap-
tivating color were most happily combined, to sub-
ject the heart to the imagination. Under modern
civilization, the finer sense of hearing has been con-
tending with the coarser sense of sight for the pri-
macy. Religion seeks to govern, less by the eye,
more by the ear. This new principle of utility intro-

354 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

duces a new principle of beauty. Religion wants
an auditorium.

Whereas she once laid the stress upon the laws of
optics she now lays the stress upon the laws of
acoustics. But the former governed for so many
centuries in the building of God's temples, that they
struggle to retain the supremacy. The architect still
consults the eye, rather than the ear. The secondary
holds the place of the primary, the primary the place
of the secondary. Improvements have been made
within a generation, but religion will suffer until this
is the universal law of the temple first, a perfect
auditorium; then, if possible, a perfect picture.

Next apply the principle to the old house at home,
and to the new house at home. The two should not
be alike. Changed conditions greatly modify rules
of construction. In building the former, stability,
shelter and protection were the governing ideas. A
fresh clearing in the wilderness is the natural setting
for a log house, a structure within which there is
an assurance of security, when wolves howl and
savages prowl. The second generation does not
shut itself up so closely. The rafters are lengthened,
the floors are extended, and thus is made the stoop,
where the woman turns the spinning wheel in the
shade, and the man smokes his pipe when the day's,
work is done. It is all very homely; but, remember
that homely is a contraction of home-like. The pic-
turesque now begins to steal into the dwelling. There
is a melodeon in the front room, and a girl who plays
and sings to the bewilderment of an enamored youth,
who is in a "strait betwixt two,"- his bashfulness
about leaving the farther side of the fire-place, and
his burning desire for a seat close to the melodeon.

VULCAN AND VENUS.

It all accords with the eternal fitness of things.
Every woman envies the girl. Every man wishes
that he were the youth, in transit from the chimney
corner.

And so we come to these later days, with their
multiplied physical comforts and aesthetic gratifica-
tions. There is danger that in building the new
house at home, a straining after artistic effect will
encroach upon those plain conveniences so essential
to the happiness of the family. After we have de-
cided how much money we can put into a dwelling,
instead of first carefully maturing a plan which will
contribute most to the well-being of the household,
and making mere ornamentation a subordinate con-
sideration, we are prone to turn the matter over to
the architect, bidding him give us the most pictur-
esque abode possible for the amount specified. The
architect is always tempted to take his stand-point
from the street, rather than from the fireside. The
hearth-stone, however, should be the foundation for
the ruling idea in building. The special wants of
every member of the domestic circle should be
heeded, before attention should be paid to the de-
light of the passers by. Enough will be done for
them, incidentally, in that provision which must be
made for such aesthetic training as is necessary for
the highest well-being of those who are to occupy
the dwelling. The impression made by many of our
pretentious modern houses is, that more study has
been given to produce external effects than to secure
such internal arrangements as shall cause "home,
sweet home" to be the spontaneous song of the
whole household. The American people should be-
ware, lest, in architecture, they let the startling and

356 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the fanciful encroach upon the fundamentally useful,
and mar the truly beautiful.

There is a rhetorician's dictum which will serve as
a golden link to connect the preceding and the re-
maining portions of this discussion. It reads: "DEC-
ORATE CONSTRUCTION; DO NOT CONSTRUCT DECORA-
TION."

Here the transition is easy from material to social,
spiritual and educational forms. The plea has been
thus far for the natural and harmonious union of
Vulcan and Venus, strength and beauty, in those
tangible creations which mark the progress of civil-
ization. This is, also, the open secret of the best so-
ciety, the morality of the Pilgrim wedded to the
manners of the Cavalier, Plymouth Rock in the
blushing embrace of the Virginia Creeper! The two
essential elements are present. What they need is
happy fusion. The ideal slowly approaches realiza-
tion, notwithstanding the lamentations of the pessi-
mist. Clannishness and exclusiveness are disappear-
ing with the dying century. Society improves by
growing composite. That which is best in England
came from the blending of the Saxon and the Nor-
man. In the process, each retained its peculiar ex-
cellencies and lost only its peculiar defects. Maine
and Mississippi, acting rightly upon each other,
would give a resultant nobler than either of the orig-
inal forces. Catholicity of vision is the first principle
of social science. Unity through diversity is the great
law of creation.

But you notice that the Author of the Universe
sanctions the principle which is advocated through-
out this address. He never constructs decoration,
but always decorates construction. He first lays out

VULCAN AND VENUS. 357

mountains, valleys and water-courses for the every
day wants of mankind, and then bids nature array
herself in loveliness. This ought to be our model in
building the social fabric. Let industry, economy,
integrity and virtue be inculcated first and foremost,,
as the only abiding foundations, then welcome all
those amenities and accomplishments which give
sweetness and inspiration to life. Listen to Carlyle,.
as he ridicules sham and glorifies work; but give
heed also to Ruskin, as he pleads for symmetry and
grace. Elijah and Elisha both have their mission to
men. The truth ruggedly declared by the one to-
day, is more persuasive when mildly uttered by the
other to-morrow. Every generation is, in its condi-
tions, more fortunate than its predecessor. It has
more leisure, and greater facilities for perfecting its
inheritance. Two classes of reformers incessantly
struggle for leadership. One is composed of those
who exalt rigor, austerity and repulsiveness, as proofs
of excellence. In their philosophy, an angle is better
than a curve, and the acutest angle is the best angle,
because it makes the sharpest wedge, the one which
can be driven in easiest and farthest. A cube is su-
perior to a sphere, on account of its cutting edges.
John's harsh voice in the wilderness has greater fas-
cination than Christ's gentle voice in the temple.

But read God's lesson in nature. Give vision the
widest sweep. Your limits are the horizon and the
firmament. The one is circular and the other is semi-
spherical. By these boundaries, the Creator ex-
presses his aversion to the angular and his love for
the curvilinear. On the surface of the planet, sharp
edges are the result of convulsion. Chemical agency
is straitway summoned to round those edges into

358 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

curves. Throughout the inorganic realm there is a
tendency to destroy cutting power. In volcanic
action, the fluidity of the lava tones down the preci-
pice and fills the chasm. Afterwards, air and light
and frost and heat and water assume and carry on this
ministry. In the case of any almost extinct burning
mountain, like Hood or Shasta, you will notice how
eager nature is to throw a robe of vegetation over
the rents and breaks of the base, and to hide the
jagged cliffs under a graceful mantle of snow. Ex-
pose any material shape to the elements, and the
latter will forthwith attack its edges and try to take
out the "cut."

Again, all the bays and inlets of ocean are sinuous,
not angular. Notice the sand dunes. They follow
the same pattern. And, if you retreat far inland, you
will find that the WAVE STYLE is still the favorite, and
is adopted or imitated as far as is consistent with the
situation.

Once more, abandoning land and water, you dis-
cover a similar preference in the aerial region.
Lightning does zig-zag, but light UNDULATES. Light-
ning is exceptional; light is universal. Sound also
WAVES. The discharge of a cannon is explosive.
You may at first think of the acoustic effect as sim-
ilar to that produced by the flying fragments of a
shell; but, as you listen to the dying reverberations,
you are convinced that the movement is undulatory.
Pass next to organic forms. The grass at your feet
springs up in blades, and you say that this destroys
the generalization; here is the point, here is the edge
and here is the angle. But be patient. Look toward
the root of that blade of grass. The stem is assum-
ing the circular form, and whether it be timothy, or

VULCAN AMD VENUS. 359

blue-grass, or clover, the full-grown stalk will be
tubular and will wear a rounded crown. Somehow
the tree never exhibits a square trunk. When it
throws off branches, they also are round, the angle
of departure is curved, and the limbs and leaves all
contribute to break rigid effects. Now, if you will
examine the whole vegetable kingdom, you will find
this constant protest against angularity. Landscape
gardening, as you would expect, conforms itself to
the principle of the curve. Landscape painting like-
wise acknowledges the reign of the same law. Other-
wise, as imitative arts, they would commit suicide.
Such considerations justify the conclusion that
nature finds in the curvilinear her prime secret of
beauty.

But the doctrine may be perverted in human na-
ture. For instance, many consider the spinal col-
umn a most uncomfortable formation. They would
substitute gristle for bone, to insure flexibility. Mus-
cle and sinew must simmer down into jelly. Pulp is
the ideal substance. Such people dote upon the sen-
suous, the artificial, the meretricious. Their choic-
est product is of the Oscar and sunflower variety.
Join neither school, but take a suggestion from both.
Each is a protest against the other. As is usual be-
tween two extremes, society will find its golden
mean in the union of the rugged and the gracious.
Such, likewise, is the law of the spiritual world.
Moral strength and moral beauty happily combined
bring character to perfection. You mark a tendency
to divorce the two in ethical conceptions. The old
theology and the new furnish a background for
these notions. The first will hear nothing but the
thunders of Sinai. The second will see nothing but

360 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

the sunshine of the Mount of Beatitudes. Man's
idea of God forms his ideal for himself. As a con-
sequence, two hostile factions seek disciples. In
church history, Luther best represents the one,
Erasmus the other. Miniature likenesses every-
where abound. Excessive admiration of the heroic
virtues hallows a dogmatism and intolerance, which
peculiarities of temperament, time and circumstance
once connected with some individual, or class of in-
dividuals. Because Plato happened to be round-
shouldered, not a few of his admirers become like
him as high as the base of the neck, but no higher..
As in philosophy, so in religion, excrescences take
the place of excellencies, because they are easier
of cultivation. In Switzerland, even the goitre
in all its unsightliness is fashionable. What wonder,
then, that the church, with her vigorous Genevan
constitution, should develop some strange beauty
spots!

The Reformers, the Covenanters and the Puritans
were the great benefactors of the race. Their religious
earnestness, inflexibility and heroism deserve the ad-
miration of mankind. Still, certain surface traits,,
pardonable centuries ago, are not worthy of imita-
tion by this generation. And yet those very traits
are the ones which many are the most tempted to
copy as moral perfections. The worship of rugged-
ness of character in the sixteenth century, may thus
result in jaggedness of character in the nine-
teenth century. But there is the other extreme.
Many so magnify the burning of a Servetus, and the
fanatical folly of the Salem tragedies, that they lose
sight of the grandeur of the Reformation in the Old
World, and the heroic conquest of the New World,

VULCAN AND VENUS. 361

by the same over-mastering religious enthusiasm.
Such blot out the text: "God is a consuming fire,"
and read only that other verse : " God is love."
This moral estimate of the Creator is transferred to
the creature, and those traits which harmonize with
the estimate are unduly exalted. The product is
the religious sentimentalist, who, finding in his vo-
cabulary no such words as justice, judgment and
penalty, grows self-indulgent, infirm in purpose, im-
potent in action. But the two elements of robust-
ness and winsomeness, each in itself insufficient,
when rightly combined, produce that rarest of
earthly sights, a character which is commanding and
attractive, an honor to men, an admiration to angels,
a delight to Jehovah.

The educational application of the doctrine is of
the highest importance, upon the present occasion.
Not a few advocate only the baldly practical in our
courses of study. Let the Popular Science Monthly
recast the curricula, and nothing would be left to
develop and to gratify the strictly literary sense.
Give radical Hellenists the same liberty, and they
would retaliate, by crowding out the bread-and-
butter branches, with digammas and iota subscripts.
It is an open question, which party displays the
narrower narrowness. We shall have no truly liber-
al education, until this antagonism is pacified by
compromise. Facts and formulae are essential; so,
likewise are logic and language, in every wise
scheme of instruction. Room must be made for all.
It is not well to follow blindly either the apostles of
the Old education, or the apostles of the New Edu-
cation. The former are too conservative, the latter
too destructive . It is a sign of senility, when one

362 SEBMONS AND ADDRESSES.

sings only of the good old ways. It is a sign of ju-
venility, when one can pipe of nothing but the good
new ways. There is an eclectic and creative process
going on, which will give us, first, a better way and,
finally, the best way.

Whether it be a mere fancy, or not, physiologi-
cally, it is a plain fact psychologically, that every
brain of man or woman has both a masculine and a
feminine lobe. Both lobes in both sexes need prop-
er food and exercise. The general theory has been,
that the great effort should center in making the mas-
culine lobe more masculine for men, and the femi-
nine lobe more feminine for woman. But, accord-
ing to the induction of this address, the mental
training of the future should pay more atten-
tion to the feminine lobe for man and to the
masculine lobe for woman. It is high time for
the world to recover from the chronic scare about
feminine men and masculine women. This has led
us to under-estimate belles-lettres studies in the
training of our boys, and to ever-estimate the lighter
accomplishments in the training of our girls. The
New Education for woman is moving in the right
direction more rapidly than the New Education for
man. Hazlitt says that Raphael cared for nothing
but the human form, and that whenever you look
at the hands of the women that he painted, you
want to TOUCH them, In studying the flesh color of
a Titian, the LIPS are attracted.

The Raphaelite in form and the Titianic in color
are combining in the education of the sex. Long-
fellow's prophecy is coming true:

"A woman with a LAMP shall stand,
In the great history of the land,
A noble type of good. "

VULCAN AND VENUS. 363

Her education may assume the largest propor-
tions, with no loss of beauty. It is, however, neces-
sary that angularity be avoided. This culture should
be well rounded and its complexion fair.

The change in public sentiment on the question
has been so noiseless, that we fail to realize how
mighty has been the revolution,throughout the Anglo
Saxon race. Contrast the doctrine of the eighteenth
century with the doctrine of the nineteenth century..
Knight, in his History of England, quotes from
Dean Swift as follows: "There is a subject of con-
troversy which I have frequently met with in mixed
and select companies of both sexes, and some-
times only of men, whether it be prudent to
choose a wife who has good natural sense, some
taste of wit and humor, able to read and relish his-
tory, books of travel, moral or entertaining dis-
courses, and be a tolerable judge of the beauties of
poetry. This question is usually determined in the
negative by women themselves, and almost univer-
sally by men."

There is no mistaking that in those days Burke's
criterion of SMALLNESS was the sole test of woman's
intellectual beauty. But, in accordance with the
doctrine maintained this evening, without taking
time to consider the light belles-lettres elements
mentioned by Swift, as the utmost conceivable
bounds of woman's mental attainments, I ask you
to open the catalogue of Yale University, and to
point out, a single study in the o academic course
which would produce angularity, a single study in
the academic course which would not round out
woman's intellectual form with lines of beauty.
While, however, this position is resolutely de-

364 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

fended, it is as readily conceded that intellectual
color is more indispensable in woman than in man,
and that, while equal time and opportunity for liberal
culture should be given to both sexes, there should be
certain substitutions in favor of female accomplish-
ments. In other words, the relatively greater im-
portance of color ought so far to modify form.
Consequently, the curriculum of a Wellesley would
be preferable to the curriculum of a Yale. It is my
belief that, when the proper additions and subtrac-
tions have been made for each curriculum, when the
sundry options have been adjusted between mathe-
matics and science on the one side, and music and
art on the other, the two curricula will be found in
substantial accord, and will lead to the same degree
for both sexes. The evolution of this idea does not
necessarily involve the question of co-education.
New England prefers to supply a Williams College
for her young men, and a Smith College for her
young women. The Interior favors the same insti-
tution for both. But each section is equally in
earnest, THAT SEX SHALL NO LONGER LIMIT LIBERTY

IN LEARNING.

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM.*

This study may be made from the stand-point of
speculative philosophy, or from the stand-point of
moral philosophy. Each method has its peculiar
advantages and disadvantages. The former is more
satisfactory to a limited number. It promises light
without heat the form of illumination especially
fascinating to a contemplative spirit. But the ma-
jority of even well-educated men and women, after
sustaining themselves for a few moments in a state
of semi-apprehensive eagerness, grow weary of ab-
stract discussion. The other style of treatment de-
scends more easily from generals to particulars, and
returns so often to the concrete that the strain of at-
tention is relaxed, and the listener, instead of being
constantly tantalized by some vanishing idea, lays
hold upon the thought with gratified self-love. The
few, however, who have had special training in dia-
lectics, will always look down upon this method as a
virtual admission of a lack of the highest intellectual
power. Nevertheless, let practical ethics, rather
than abstruse speculation, guide the writing of this
paper.

Definition should be made at the outset, to prevent
confusion. The meaning of four words ought to be
rendered clear to mental vision. These words are
sentiment, sentimentalism, reality and realism. Senti-
ment proper is always excellent. Sentimentalism is
the perversion of sentiment. Reality is sometimes

*An address before the "American Akademe."

366 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

excellent and sometimes the opposite. When reality
is excellent, realism is the .exaltation of repulsive-
ness. Of course realism in this essay has nothing of
the old scholastic sense, which made it a synonym
for idealism, and opposed it to nominalism and con-
ceptualism. We are now confining ourselves to the
term as it is popularly used in art and literature.
Sentiment .affiliates with reality and realism, when
they are good. Sentimentalism affiliates with reality
and realism, when they are bad. Sentiment is alike
at home in the realm of fancy and the realm of fact.
Sentiment is the happy product of imagination tem-
pered by emotion.

The best examples are found in poetry. Listen to
a dozen lines read on the celebration of Longfellow's
birthday:

"A soft-breasted bird from the sea

Fell in love with the light-house flame,

And it wheeled round the tower on its airiest wing,

And floated and cried like a love-lorn thing:

It brooded all day, and fluttered all night,

But could win no look from the steadfast light,

For the flame hid its heart afar

Afar with the ships at sea.

It was thinking of children and waiting wives,

And darkness and danger to sailors' lives.

But the bird had its tender bosom pressed

On the glass, where at last it dashed its breast.

The light only flickered, the brighter to glow,

BUT THE BIRD LAY DEAD ON THE ROCKS BELOW"

This is a fine illustration of sentiment in the realm
of fancy. No one will question its immaculate
purity.

Two phases of sentiment in the realm of fact are
well brought out in The Cotters Saturday Night. For
each I quote a specimen stanza:

SENTIMENTAL1SM AND REALISM, 367

"Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben;

A strappih' youth; he taks the mother's eye:
Blithe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ;

The father cracks of horses, pleughs and kye;
The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,

But blate and lathefu', scarce can weel behave.
The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy

What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave:
Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave."

"Then kneeling down to heaven's eternal King,

The saint, the father and the husband prays,
{'Hope springs exultant on triumphant wing,')

That thus they all shall meet in future days,
There ever bask in uncreated rays,

No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear;
Together hymning their Creator's praise,

In such society, yet still more dear;
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.

These two stanzas, besides exhibiting domestic
and religious sentiment, so combine sentiment with
reality, that they give you an admirable embodi-
ment of praiseworthy realism.

Now, it is the mission of sentiment to make
thought and experience glow with warmth and
brightness and beauty. If we will keep this idea
steadily before us, we shall never be disturbed by
the sneering remark which is often heard: "Nothing
but sentiment, nothing but sentiment."

But when sentiment ceases to be a means towards
a higher end, when it becomes an end in itself, when
it is cultivated for its own sake, it degenerates into
sentimentalism, and the one who indulges in it is
properly stigmatized as a sentimentalist. There are
various grades, but the lowest of these is the one
where artificial sensibilities are made the screen for
shameful immoralities.

368 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Among the poets who confine sentiment to its le-
gitimate office should be classed Keats, Wordsworth,
Tennyson and Longfellow. Tupper is a sentiment-
alist, but criticism dismisses him with no severer ver-
dict than, "affected and harmless." The sentiment-
alism of Moore, Shelley and Byron, is seductive and
vicious. This malady expresses' itself more naturally
in prose than in verse, and the typical sentimentalists
are found among prose-writers. They are not con-
fined to any nationality.

Germany, England and France have furnished the
largest niftnber, and France may be considered the
most natural home of sentimentalism. With it her lit-
erature is thoroughly saturated. It vitiates much that
would be admirable in such men as Lamartine, Mich-
elet, and Victor Hugo. They become the prey of an
egotism which sets them to attitudinizing before the
world. They attach an exaggerated importance to
their own sayings and doings. They crowd their
opinions and fancied services upon the notice of the
public; and, then, if the public will not take them at
their own estimate, they are overwhelmed with cha-
grin, and weary mankind with their reproaches. Fine
sentiments take the place of fine actions. The na-
tional taste becomes vitiated. Home-life grows ar-
tificial and corrupt. Seeming is exalted above
being.

Rousseau, though born in Switzerland, \vas of
French origin, lived in France, and was the incarna-
tion of French sentimentalism. His father is de-
scribed as one of those men who always enjoy incon-
solable sorrow. The boy inherited the same dispo-
sition, and it was the fashion with sire and son to sit
down together, and deliberately work each other up

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 369

to a high pitch of delectable grief. One trained to
such an exaltation of the fictitious, naturally became
an accomplished cheat and an unblushing liar. But,
whenever he had betrayed a friend, he was wont to
betake himself to some place of retirement, and
there indulge in a spasm of remorseful feel-
ing, to quiet his conscience for not confessing his
crime and making restitution to the person who had
been wronged. You may hear him expressing his
fervent desire to protect his benefactress from the
dishonesty of others, and see him, the next moment,
appropriating her property without any compunc-
tions of conscience, on the ground that, if she must
be robbed, he was entitled to the largest share of the
plunder. In the same connection, he takes pains
thus to assure the world that he prays daily: " Not
by a vain stammering of the lips, but a sincere, ele-
vation of the heart to the Author of lovely nature,
whose beauties were spread out before my eyes. I
never like to pray in a room; it seems as if the walls
and the little workmanship of man interposed be-
tween God and myself."

A biographer thus describes him during those
happy days at Charmettes: " His fine-strung nature
was sensitive to all things tender; the far-off sound
of bells, the cooing of turtle-doves, all touched him
to tears, he could not tell why. Fondly he loved
this sweet idleness to bask in the sun, or to loiter
in the shadows of the chestnuts, to gaze for
hours on the lovely scenery of the floating
clouds, to listen to the songs of birds or to
the murmur of the stream over its pebbly bed, ever
in delicious reverie, and in simple enjoyment of the
passing hour, with no thought, no care of the mor-

370 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

row." In the midst of such scenes, Rousseau de-
clares that he was one day overcome with the terrors
of hell; which he quieted forever as follows : " I
said to myself: 'I will throw this stone at the tree
opposite; if I hit it, that will be a sign of salvation;
if I miss it, that will be a sign of damnation.' As I
said this, I threw a stone with a trembling hand and
a terrible beating of the heart, but so .happily that
it struck the middle of the tree, which was not a very
difficult feat, . as I had chosen one very thick and
very near. Since then I have never doubted of my
salvation."

In the next view that we get of our sentimentalist,
after this unique settlement of the question of his
eternal destiny, he is engaged in one of the disrepu-
table love-affairs in which his life abounds. After
his nominal marriage, this remarkable father sends
his five children to the foundling hospital, because
the expense of their maintenance would be perplex-
ing, and because their presence would disturb the
quiet of his reflections. But thus he appeals to the
world: "Pity me, for I am childless. I can not
taste the sweetness of a father's embrace. Had I
had less concern for what might have become of my
children, I should have left them to their mother,
who would have spoiled them, and to her family, who
would have made them monsters."

And yet, this man, who cast out of his own house
his helpless offspring, simply because they would
cry, and cost money, and interrupt his reveries, be-
took himself to seclusion, and there wrote so beauti-
fully and so persuasively concerning the duties of
motherhood, that he revolutionized the public senti-
ment of France, and had the giddy women of the

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM.

37 1

giddiest nation on earth sitting humbly at his feet,
and eagerly inquiring how they should train their
boys and girls. Moreover, from the same seclusion,
on which no child of his own was ever permitted to
intrude, he gave to the world those first principles of
primary education, which were afterward borrowed
and made popular by Pestalozzi and Froebel, and
which have become the inspiration of the most ag-
gressive common-school work of this generation.

A similar inconsistency between practice and
doctrine is noticeable in all directions. He assails
the artificial literary work of the period, but makes
his own reputation by cultivating a style still more
affected.

Passionately fond of the adulation of the corrupt
court of Louis XV, and kept from kindred
immoralities by nothing but lack of opportunity, he
sought his compensation by attacking the vices of
society in a style so charming, that he was eagerly
read and graciously forgiven by those whom he as-
sailed. Enamored of aristocracy, but hating it
bitterly because he felt so ill at ease within its
charmed circle, he became the zealous apostle of
democracy, and formulated those doctrines concern-
ing the rights of man, which captivated Thomas
Jefferson, and found their noblest embodiment in the
Declaration of American Independence.

But, since Rousseauism, which is an exact synonym
for sentimentalism, contributed so much toward the
advancement of civilization, should we not seek to
forget the vices of its author, which are revealed in
his Confessions, and remember only his genius for
literary form, his inimitable skill in clothing moral
putrefaction with garments angelic, and at the same

372 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

time his paradoxical advocacy of what is essential to
the integrity of the individual, the purity of home
and the well-being of society? Such is the dictum of
a popular school of criticism. To this school natur-
ally belong those who desire to live free from moral
restraint, and who seek the most specious excuses
for their transgressions. But we are surprised to find
sustaining the same view not a few who are pure in
life, and who would not seem likely to be carried
away with a doctrine so pernicious.

In reading a magazine article, your eye catches
such sentences as these: "Art has nothing to do
directly with morality or immorality." "The nude in
art has rendered holy the beauty of woman." "Every
Greek statue pleads for mothers and sisters." " The
Venus de Milo is a melody in marble. All the lines
meet in a kind of a voluptuous and glad content.
The eyes are filled with thoughts of love. The breast
seems dreaming of a child. Genius is the spirit of
abandon. It is joyous, irresponsible. It moves in the
swell and curve of billows. It is careless of conduct
and consequences." You turn to the name at the
bottom of the article, and simply say to yourself: "Of

course."

But it is a matter of wonder, when a critic like
Matthew Arnold bewails the fact that his ideal
Shelley has been forever ruined by the real Shelley
depicted in the recent biography by Professor Dow-
den. All the world ought to knoiu the moral life of genius.
That is the only adequate protection against the
wide-spread, contaminating influence of the prosti-
tution of the noblest faculties. Genius is responsible.
It has no business to be careless of conduct and con-
sequences. We grapple here with the fundamental

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 3^3

.heresy of sentimentalism. Genius is not required to
become either a New-Testament exhorter, or a pro-
fessor of didactic theology. It has a wider field;
still that field is not boundless. Genius is under the
most solemn obligations not to outrage the moral
sense of mankind in its own generation. Genius can
not escape either the letter or the spirit of the Seventh
Commandment.

Notwithstanding all the beautiful things which
Rousseau wrote concerning God and Christ and
prayer and devotion and virtue and chastity and
home and liberty and equality and universal brother-
hood, the influence of his life and of his writings,
like the influence of the life and writings of every
other sentimentalist, must always be pestiferous.

That influence extended from France to Germany.
Goethe came under the spell of Rousseau. His
range of intellectual power was much wider than
that of the latter. He was also free from those nar-
row limitations of birth and doubtful social position
which made the latter uncomfortable, suspicious and
revengeful. But, so far as the sensibilities were con-
cerned, the two men had much in common. In the
gratification of appetite and passion, they were char-
acterized by the same easy, elastic morality. If the
grossness could be removed from an act, they felt
little scruple about its criminality. Whenever the
aesthetic conflicted with the ethical, they glorified the
aesthetic. They were ever eager to clasp to their
hearts impropriety in fine attire, rather than propriety
in the garb of plainness.

In the Sorrows of Werther, the trained ear will
readily detect the echo of Rousseau's sobbing senti-
mentalism. The voice is the voice of the Frenchman,

374 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

but the hands are the hands of a German. So, also,,
in Goethe's Correspondence with a Child, you are re-
minded of Jean Jaques' paternal counsels to the
Daughters of Paris. And again, in Elective Affinities,
it is manifest that the German retained in old age, a
lingering affection for the Frenchman who had
captivated his youthful fancy.

Sentimentalism, did not, however, become a nation-
al craze in Germany, as it had in France. For a
little while, the country seemed infatuated with the
doctrine; but, presently, the sturdy common sense of
the people, the love for domestic loyalty, and their
veneration for genuine virtue resumed their sway.

Goethe himself was wise enough to discern the
signs of the times, and to devote his splendid abilities
chiefly to nobler ends. But there was always in his
life and writings a strain of sentimentalism, which
leads a thoughtful mind to ask, what might have
been his career and his place in literature, but for
the restraining influence of rank, environment and
nationality.

Laurence Sterne represents the English phase of
sentimentalism. It is peculiar in this: that it was not
the product of amorous irregularities which the au-
thor sought to hide. He opened this vein late in
life, and worked it hard for what it would bring in
the literary market. Carnal passion did not furnish
his motive power. Finding himself possessed of a
rare gift for sentimental fancy and expression, he
deliberately devoted himself to the cultivation of
that gift; neither desiring to overturn any article of
moral law, nor concerning himself at all respecting
the interests of virtue and religion, parson though he
was.

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 3*75

The Sentimental Journey is one long search for sit-
uations which shall afford the most delicious enjoy-
ment of the emotions, without the cost of a single
disagreeable self-denial. Such imaginary scenes of
distress intoxicate the soul with delight, but harden
the heart to the appeals of genuine grief. The
sentimentalist will turn on the fountain of tears, for
every highly-wrought picture of suffering, but he
never has any hard cash for a flesh-and-.blood
Lazarus full of disgusting sores. When Sterne takes
you on a sentimental journey, he chooses a boule-
vard-route, where you will meet no funeral proces-
sions, and where an ambulance hurries out of sight
any unfortunate whose head gets broken. He en-
gages to serve up to you only such fictitious objects
of compassion as will leave your heart light, and
your purse heavy. He finds no special pleasure in
conducting you to haunts forbidden by the Seventh
Commandment; but if the songs of the sirens are
especially bewitching, he is quite ready to go that
way. One breathes the same enervating, tropical
atmosphere in Tristram Shandy. There steals upon
the reader a dreamy unconsciousness of moral dis-
tinctions.

The story of Lefevre is matchless in literature.

" 'He shall not die! 1 cried my uncle Toby, taking the name
of God in vain."

" The accusing spirit which flew up to heaven's chancery
with the oath, blushed as he gave it in rand the recording
angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear uuon the word, and
blotted it out forever."

When criticism pronounces this the most per-
fect sentence in the English language, what cares

376 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

sentimentalism for the sacredness of the Third Com-
mandment?

The influence of sentimentalism on Great Britain
has not been well-defined and pronounced. The Nor-
man strain in the blood welcomes it kindly, but the
Saxon strain gives it cool reception ; so that, instead
of exhibiting a large body of votaries, it manifests
itself, here and there, in the character of different
individuals.

America has given birth to no celebrated senti-
mentalist. As people, we are fairly protected from
such contamination by heredity and by the practical
necessities of our younger civilization. Still you
may detect this drift in our social science, our edu-
cational theories, and our theological speculations.
Furthermore, who of us can look into our own
hearts and declare ourselves free from this evil ten-
dency?

Young men and young women are more exposed
than any others to the temptation. The age from
fourteen to twenty-one is the period sacred to senti-
ment. If, during those years it be fostered and still
kept pure, there will form unconsciously a precious
reserve for the enlargement, enrichment and adorn-
ment of character through all the future. If, on the
contrary, it be pampered into sentimentalism, the
individual will degenerate into the personification of
affectation, insincerity, hypocrisy and incontinence.
Those whose minds are employed in study, but
whose critical faculties have had little rigid discip-
line, are in especial danger of being misled by
authors of the school passed under review. Turn,
now, from sentimentalism to realism. We have seen
that the former is essentially vicious. It has been

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 3*7^

mentioned, incidentally, that the latter is good or
bad, according to the goodness or the badness of
the realities which it emphasizes. The two lines of
thought remain for treatment. The distinction sug-
gested is usually disregarded by the apostles of
realism. They adroitly represent the doctrine as
nothing but a protest against sentimentalism. They
very properly decry the visionary, the affected, the
hypocritical ; and then very improperly exalt the act-
ual, the commonplace, the carnal, without discrimi-
nation.

Art should be realistic. There are vast fields of
nature which she may roam over and copy, without
restraint. She may thus minister to aesthetic de-
light in a thousand forms, and still inflict no mortal
wound. But wherever in sculpture and painting,
exposure will excite a prurient imagination in man
or woman, boy or girl, there let realism stay its reve-
lations, or receive the anathemas of all who love
honor and virtue. It is not the primary mission of
Art to teach either the Ten Commandments, or the
Eleventh Commandment. She is called to minister
to human delight, but only to such delight as is in-
nocent. She must study human nature, not as it
might be, but as it is, with its hereditary burdens, and
its own inclination toward lust. She has ample scope
for the employment of all her noblest powers, in
regions which are free from suggestions of in-
decency. The realistic painter or sculptor who
either intentionally or unintentionally, makes naked-
ness pander to carnality, is a curse to the world.
The zone of limitation is narrow, but it is clearly
defined to moral vision. Human nature has its
equatorial belt, abounding in dangers peculiar, se-

378 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ductive and soul-destroying. He who trifles with
these, under the disguise of a specious art-vocabu-
lary, is not the man to whom those who are wise
would entrust sisters or daughters. Realism may
range the frigid zones and the temperate zones with-
out restraint, but , when she enters the tropics, let her
beware.

I must not, however, dwell longer in the province
of sculpture and painting, for I desire to confine this
short study mainly to the realm of literature.

As the Frenchman is naturally sentimental, the
Englishman is naturally realistic, but his realism is
usually of the better kind. Inductive philosophy,
which considers England its birthplace, grounds
itself in the concrete before it deals with the abstract.
The poets and the prose-writers of Britian delight
in the actual and the tangible. They do not forget
the five senses ; still they do not make them all to
all. The sensible serves as a perch from which the
supersensible soars and sings.

This is not so strikingly evident in the times of
Chaucer and Spenser, as in later periods when the
national life is better unified and the national litera-
ture has assumed a more distinctive character.

Shakespeare and Milton are intensely realistic.
The wholesome moral instinct of the one and the
fixed moral principle of the other keep them from
glorifying those things which arouse lascivious fancy
and lead to beastliness. There are a few sonnets
which we could wish that the former had never
written ; the latter made a special plea for easy
divorce which is inexcusable, but you cannot find
any great distinctive play or poem, the perusal of
which imparts a seductive fascination even, to sins

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 379

which end in catastrophe. In this respect; the real-
ism of Shakespeare, when it seems to transgress the
boundaries of propriety, is like the realism of some
portions of the Sacred Scriptures. You catch your
breath with apprehension, but are immediately re-
lieved to discover that you have received neither
stab, stain nor smut. A still stronger statement is
justifiable. For the average young man, Romeo and'
Juliet is less objectionable than Solomons Song. If
a reading circle composed of both sexes were ob-
liged to select one of the two, the Canticles would be
worse than the play. But Shakespeare never thought
of sermonizing, and Solomon claimed to be the
" preacher " of his generation.

The Lake-School of poetry was grounded in real-
ism, though the flowers of sentiment grow there so
profusely that you sometimes forget the substratum in
the decoration. The weirdness of the Ancient Manner
may at first raise the question whether Coleridge is
not to be classed as a sentimentalist; but if you will re-
read the Rime illustrated by Dore, you will be con-
vinced of the intense realism of the poet's genius.
Wordsworth, however, is the high priest of the
school, and his Excursion is its best typical product.
Plod along through that with the peddler who is its
hero, and you will have no further doubt that the
Lake-School is essentially realistic.

A healthy realism characterizes English fiction.
All will admit this concerning Scott's novels. They
copy the early features of the national life with ac-
curacy, but the reader everywhere breathes a whole-
some moral atmosphere. More recently, Dickens
and Thackeray uncover the lower and the upper
strata of society in such a way that vice is usually

380 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

rendered odious and virtue attractive. These three
are the fairest representative names in this depart-
ment of literature.

I do not recall any conspicuous British author of
the present generation, who has sought to popular-
ize gross realism, unless it be Swinbum. That was
the sin of his youth, which he seems to have be-
come ashamed of and to have forsaken. This out-
line, though very bald, is sufficient to justify the as-
sertion that the bent of the English people is real-
istic, but at the same time opposed to any perversion
of the doctrine, such as would vitiate literary taste
and corrupt public morals. America has inherited
the same tendencies. These tendencies have been
strengthened by the task of subduing a new conti-
nent.

The breath of nature comes fresh and sweet from
the verse of Bryant and Longfellow. Life among
the lowly is depicted in truthful and vigorous lines
upon the pages of Mrs. Stowe. Cooper has told the
story of the aborigines so graphically that it will
never need to be re-told. Those phases of New
England conscience and character portrayed by
Hawthorne's genius, are the exact copy of the
actual. Painstaking accuracy, rather than rhetorical
display, is the law which has governed Bancroft,
our representative historian.

Still, as a people, we are more tempted than our
British kinsmen in the direction of corrupt realism.
This is in part the natural result of pioneer life, and
in part due to the influx of gross foreign elements.
Time will do much toward curing the evil, but it is
wise to watch and check the hurtful tendency.
Within the past five years, there has been in the

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 381

mother country and in our own land, seemingly, a
concerted plan to generate and propagate what may
be called a fleshly school in American literature.
Walt Whitman is the " head centre" of the move-
ment. There has been on both sides of the Atlan-
tic an effort to exalt the author of The Leaves of Grass,
as the distinctly American poet. What can be dis-
covered in the substance or in the form of his verse
to entitle him to credit for poetic imagination or
diction, is beyond the writer's comprehension. In
the repulsive realism of Don jfuan, the genius of By-
ron does sometimes take wing, though its flights are
as filthy as those of Virgil's harpies. But Walt
Whitman never rises above the mire. You find your-
self applying to him morally the epithets which
Prince Hal applied to Jack Falstaff physically :
" This huge hill of flesh, gross as a mountain, this
ton of a man, greasy, obscene, this bolting-hutch of
beastliness." Very strong language, but abundant-
ly justified by what defiles almost every page of the
book! It would outrage the proprieties of the occa-
sion, to quote even one of the numerous passages
which are the warrant for a condemnation so sweep-
ing. But we may select a few verses which will,
without shocking the sensibilities, sufficiently expose
the naked fleshliness of much which is courting lit-
erary favor under the attractive pseudonym of real-
ism. Holy Writ declares that " all flesh is grass."
Walt Whitman in his Leaves of Grass teaches that
no flesh is grass. The whole volume is deification
of the carnal and a degradation of the spiritual. They
say that there is a test-glass recently invented which
enables those who bore artesian wells to ascertain
the quality of the veins of water which they reach

382 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

successively as the work progresses. The samples
now presented are dipped up from near the surface.
Only remember that the impurities thicken rapidly,
the deeper you drop the test-glass.

" Walt Whitman, an American, one of the roughs, a kosmos,

Disorderly, fleshly, sensual, eating, drinking, breeding,

No sentimentalist no stander above men or women or apart

from them,
No more modest than immodest."

" Through me forbidden voices,

Voices of sexes and lusts voices veiled and I remove the veil,

Voices indecent, by me clarified and transfigured."

" I believe in the flesh and the appetite.

Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag

of me is a miracle, 1

Divine am I inside and out; and I make holy whatever I touch

or am touched from.
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man

hearty and clean,
Not an inch, nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be

less familiar than the rest.
I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the

poet of wickedness also."

' What blurt is this about virtue and about vice ?
Evil propels me, and reform of evil propels me, I stand
indifferent."

" Be composed, be at ease with me, I am Walt Whitman, lib-
eral and lusty as nature.

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of
my gab and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,

I shout my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

I bequeath myself to the dirt, to grow from the grass I love;

If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles."

"I own that I have been sly, thievish, mean, a prevaricator,

greedy, derelict;
And I own that I remain so yet.

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 383

What foul thought but I think it, or have in me the stuff out
of which it is thought ?

Beneath this face that appears so passive, hell's tides continu-
ally run.

Lusts and wickedness are acceptable to me,

I walk with delinquents with passionate love."

Such is Walt Whitman's own confession, or rather
profession, for a confession indicates shame, and
you look in vain for the trace of a blush on the face
of him who thus declares his creed. The verses se-
lected may be read without impropriety in a mixed
company; but they forcibly suggest that there must
be much suppressed because of its uncleanliness.
Should I drop the test-glass from the upper and less
vile currents on which I have used it, down to those
" tides of hell " which the author declares " continu-
ally run, " I should bring utterances to the surface
which would lead virtue to stop her ears or bid me
be silent.

From a merely artistic stand-point, what is
there to admire in the versification? Compared with
the exquisite literary finish of Edgar A. Poe's work-
manship, or even with the rustic sweetness of John G.
Whittier's song, the volume before us cannot be
more fitly described than in the author's own words,
as one prolonged " barbaric yawp. " The dialect of
the Biglow Papers and the slang which flavors much
of our " wild-west " verse, have some show of justifi-
cation in their naturalness, but the very metre in the
stanzas quoted, if there be any metre, repels with its
turgid affectation.

In the name of literary form, we ought to protest
against the effort to glorify Walt Whitman as the
great representative American poet. In the name

384 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

of common decency, we should cry out still more
loudly against all attempts in this republic to nat-
ural^e unmitigated nastiness by dubbing it Ameri-
can realism.

The realistic movement in this country is receiv-
ing no little aid and comfort from the Russian pas-
sion of the last two years. Russia bids fair to become
as natural a home for realism in the twentieth cen-
tury, as France became for sentimentalism in the
eighteenth. The doctrine shows the rankest growth
in the soil of autocracy. The coarse animalism of
Peter the Great and of Catherine, his mistress and
queen, have been propagated till they are charac-
teristic of the whole empire. To the truth of this
statement the novels of Tolstoi bear unblushing wit-
ness. While democracy on this continent cannot
consistently sympathize with the most aggressive
absolutism of the Old World, while our people in-
stinctively condemn the unscrupulous policy of the
court of St. Petersburg, which is constantly menac-
ing the peace of Europe, we are suddenly bewitched
with Russian realism in literature. The infatuation
is as strange as that of the fair Titania for the beast-
ly Bottom in Midsummer-Night 's Dream. May it
prove as transient !

How shall we account for this literary freak?
Partly from Tolstoi's remarkable intellectual power,
partly from the zeal of his friends, partly from the
prurient curiosity always awakened by a discussion
of the relations of the sexes, partly from a general
disposition to think well of a celebrity simply because
we hear him frequently mentioned with admiration.
The writer must acknowledge that, chiefly from the
last consideration, till recently, he had been favora-

SENTIMENTALISM AND REALISM. 385

bly impressed concerning the author. But a few
weeks ago, not satisfied with the hear-say and ex-
tract notion, he gave himself up to a thorough study
of Anna Karenina, which Tolstoi pronounces his
best representative book.

It would not be germane to the present discuss-
ion to enter at great length upon the social and spir-
itual views brought out through the character of
Levin, in whom Tolstoi would have us see the
likeness of himself, but it is only just to say that
there is in the volume little to warrant the charge
of nihilistic teaching in politics, or aggressive
doctrine in religion. While the novelist's vision
is clouded concerning both social and theistic
science, there is no sufficient reason for the alarm
of those who apprehend disaster to state and
church as the consequence of his influence. The
body of the book is, however, of the flesh fleshly. The
story may be, it probably is, a truthful picture of
Russian morals. Due allowance should be made
for the deadening of the author's delicacy by birth,
education and environment. But after all, you can-
not hide from yourself the gusto with which he rev-
els in scenes of conjugal infidelity, through more
than seven hundred closely-printed pages. You
recognize the hand of genius, but it is a genius that
delights in putting its hand to dirty work. The hus-
band loves some other woman than his wife. The
wife loves some other man than her husband. Now
let this be italicized as the distinguishing peculiarity
of the representative novel, though retribution fol-
lows trangression : the story is so artfully told that your
sympathies are enlisted for every culprit. The breakage
of the Seventh Commandment is made to appear a

386 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

pathetic misfortune rather than an unpardonable
crime. Thus sentimentalism and realism, seem-
ing to move in opposite directions at the outset, de-
scribe a semicircle and meet in the common point
of opposition to a most sacred article of the Deca-
logue.

The type of American realism is essentially virtu-
ous, but exposed to certain corrupting tendencies.
The type of Russian realism is essentially vicious,
with few redeeming features. That individual life
and home-life and social life in this Republic may
remain pure and sweet, let our young men and young
women be taught to keep out of the filthy current
of Whitman's verse, and to avoid the seductive spell
of Tolstoi's fiction.

EARLY MEMORIES.*

In the long ago, I heard a "pinafore" chorus, and
thus it ran: "Unlucky Sucker though you be, in this,
take comfort, that your father and your mother,
your brothers and your sisters, and your uncles and
your aunts all hailed 'from Yankee-land." The first
enigma of life to perplex my childish mind was the
query, why did not Providence ordain that I should
be born a little sooner, that my eyes should open to
the light in Litchfield county, Conn., and not in
Morgan county, 111.? That mystery, with raven
wing and dismal croak, overshadowed boyhood.

In the course of time, a portion of the family, tak-
ing me, moved to Springfield, and then came the
dawning of relief. I started to school. The first
morning, the scholars gathered in the usual way
around the raw recruit. " Where did you hail from,
youngster?" sang out some one. "We came from
Warren, Litchfield county, Connecticut," was the
quick response. A loud laugh followed and the wag
of the crowd cried: "Here's an odd chick; let's dub
him Yankee Tanner." The nick-name stuck for
years. When I went home that day, boasting of the
new appellation, relatives began to wonder, for the
first time, whether the boy might not possibly be
worth bringing up after all.

Down-East poets have often sung the praises of
pumpkin pie, but our people glorified huckleberry

*An address at the semi-centennial celebration of Waverly,
111., President Tanner's birth-place.

388 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

pie instead, until I grew to think that it must be an
eatable fit to crown the dessert of the Immortals.
One year, some of the far-off friends sent us a few
huckleberries, and I looked at last upon the realiza-
tion of the dream a huckleberry pie. I tasted
the charm was broken. I went out into a blackberry
patch, and ate, and was comforted.

There was another family tradition, that the only
way to find a decent wife was to look for her among
the huckleberry bushes, and so, after awhile, I went
huckleberrying down in Connecticut, but she wasn't
there. And then I came back and went blackberry-
ing again, and found her and was comforted once
more.

Step a moment now upon abroad prairie platform,
not as a democrat, not as a republican, but simply
as an Illinoisan. When one rides along the Central
railroad into Chicago, and passes the statue of
Douglas on the shore of Lake Michigan, and reflects
upon the state's vast material resources, so largely
due to the Little Giant's wisdom and energy; or when
one climbs the monument at Oak Ridge, and sits
down at the feet of the colossal figure of the Great
Emancipator, and reviews the past and forecasts the
future; or again, when one listens, and the autumn
air vibrates with the midsummer lamentation of the
nations, over the mighty warrior whom our own
state sent to deliver the republic, and to win the ad-
miration of the world, who who would blush for
nativity in Illinois?

But such a strain better befits some Independence
day, than it does this humble semi-centennial home
celebration. The occasion calls not so much for a

EARLY MEMORIES. 389

wide spread of canvas as for plenty of vivid local
coloring.

"Waverly's first baby!" James Woods is the only
man who has ever disputed the speaker's right to
that honor. Even he did not seek to establish pre-
cedence, but only what you might call a coi?icidence.
Years ago, however, 1 proved an alibi on James,
showing that he made his appearance, outside the city
limits, according to the original survey by Deacon
Theodore Curtiss and Judge Julius Peck. Moreover,
I showed conclusively, that I arrived within the cor-
poration early in the evening, while James did not
reach the suburbs until along towards morning.

For some unexplained reason, nobody wanted to
be born in Waverly, for the first two or three years;
but, as soon as your speaker set the example, Nov.
29, 1837, the idea became exceedingly popular. By
the census of 1840, babies were decidedly common.
And, from that day to this, cribs and trundle-beds
have figured heavily in the commercial transactions
of the place.

What has become of that first cradle? It was a
rough, homely affair, very little like the light and
graceful patterns of the present; still that did not
make the father's benediction less fervent, the
mother's kiss less sweet. Better such a cradle, with
its atmosphere of faith and consecration, than one
dainty and luxurious, but fanned not by the wings of
the angel of the covenant.

And what has become of the old house at " The
Range?" It has vanished, and no one can tell pre-
cisely where it stood. I went there some time ago
and looked in vain for traces of the structure. Then
I reproached myself, that I had not gone years before,

390 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and at least set out a tree to mark the spot. In youth
we never realize what a value there will be in old
things by-and-by, and so we take no pains for their
preservation. When at length we bethink ourselves
and reach out after them, they have disappeared for-
ever.

The half century has witnessed here nothing
startling, nothing dramatic. The great world cares
little for this celebration. We have met merely as a
little company of survivors who want to get nearer
together, by talking reverently of the dead and lov-
ingly of the living. The scenes of long ago were
ordinary scenes, the men and women of long ago
were unpretending men and women; yet to the child
they had an importance and dignity, which, in his
maturity, he does not connect with any other scenes,
or with any other men and women.

I went one day through the Pillsbury mills at
Minneapolis, the largest flouring mills on the conti-
nent, yet they made upon me no such impression of
vastness, as did that old Cook and Eastman mill,
which was the wonder of the little world of my child-
hood.

I meet, now and then, some judge, learned and
majestic, but I have no such overpowering sense of
my own insignificance, as I felt in my boyhood in
the presence of Judge Julius B. Peck. There was an
indescribable awfulness about that title. Judges
were not so common then. Judge Peck stood alone,
"grand, gloomy and peculiar," before my juvenile
imagination.

Edifices more imposing than the Waverly Seminary
may be found anywhere; but the stories told of the
school days of John Lamb, John Cook, Henry Baker,

EARLY MEMORIES. 391

and Charlie Lippincott, had a fascination all their
own.

No other exhibition has ever seemed so tragic and
tremendous, as the one in that ancient building, when
the performers were arrayed in uniforms fresh from
Cerro Gordo and Buena Vista, when Charlie Salter
figured as a high private, and his brother John was
gorgeous in a general's trappings. How the cold
chills raced up and down the boy's spinal column, as
he heard the words of that command, which still
rings in memory across the chasm of forty years:
"Seize the traitor and bind him to yonder post!" No
Keene, no Booth, no Macready could now freeze my
blood, as did the terrible voice of General John C.
Salter, upon that night never to be forgotten.

Doubtless college boys go courting very much the
same from generation to generation; still, when I
watch them now-a-days, the proceedings seem very
tame, compared with the enthusiasm of William
Holmes and Thomas Beecher, who, driving down
from Jacksonville in hot haste, and impatient of de-
lay, were wont to salute Mary and Julia, through the
opening made by the compassionate stakes between
the rider and the rail below.

Will my heart ever swell again with the admiration
felt at seeing that ox-loving brother, Elisha, swing
to the line six, eight, or ten yoke of cattle, it mattered
not how many; or one of the Curtiss or Carter or
Post boys, (as these old boys of three score and
more called one another then), string out the horses,
pair after pair, to match the cattle?

That brother went, the other year, to work over
yonder, for Him "whose are the cattle on a thousand
hills," and Theo., and Gust., and Fred., and Platt,

392 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and George, and Roll., the lines that used to fill your
hands, are dropping, one by one, from the fingers
which are losing, little by little, their grip and cun-
ning. Who knows how soon the great Revelation
may come, and you may hear the clattering hoofs of
the white horses of the Apocalypse!

The railroads have spoiled the romance of getting
the pork and the beef to market. Wasn't it fun to
count the steers, as they passed by in the lane, or to
watch them in their stampedes through the tall
prairie grass, on their way to St. Louis for slaughter.
What marvelous stories the hog-drovers used to tell,
around the fire, during the long winter evenings, and
how the huddling swine kept up the music out in the
yard, the night long! Who in these days knows the
peculiar zest of a sleigh-ride, with a pack of wolves
following close behind, with burning eyes and hungry
howl ?

What has become of the great flocks of cranes that
used to migrate to and fro, now seeming but a far-
away voice, coming from so many flecks' of cloud in
the zenith, and now alighting in long lines, to dance
the grotesques! dances, to the most unearthly music.
It was the speaker's special ambition, for years, to
capture one of these ungainly birds. He remembers,
as if it were only yesterday, being told that Martin
Peet had caught one at last. Imagine the boy's dis-
gust, when his informer showed him little John Grain.
But the captor never ceased to mention, that though
the bird was not much for legs and neck, he had a
mighty long head. Another of the long-headed men
was Newton Cloud, the preacher-politician, the leader
of his own party in this region, and trusted, as a man

EARLY MEMORIES. 393

and a Christian, even by those who cast their votes
against him in vain, for more than thirty years.

And then there was William Givens, the oracle of
Apple Creek, who, from the top of that old hill, had
but to give the signal, and Muddy and Franklin hur-
ried to the ramparts, ready for battle. Did you ever
know a Waverly boy to whom Givens' hill did not
always rise to mind, as the type of whatever was most
arduous in life? Did you ever know a Waverly boy
who could sing " I'm climbing up Zion's Hill" with-
out sticking in " Givens " instead?

This is not a day for partizanship, yet the mention
of those old-time democrats suggests some of the
other faith. The Jacksonville and South-Eastern
was not the first railroad that ran through this part
of the country. There were always plenty of appli-
cants for positions as station agents, and conductors,
along the under-ground through line to Canada,

Your memories supply names which I need not
call. One man, however, so gloried in his zeal, that
he ought not be passed by in silence, Ebenezer
Miller. He taught me to count with red corn ; but
I remember him better in another way. I see him
now, away back in '47, in the old Seminary on Sun-
day, between the morning and the afternoon services,
eating doughnuts and discussing orthodoxy and ab-
olitionism, principally abolitionism. I had not
grown to care much, either for sound doctrine, or
for Sambo ; but how I wished Mr. Miller and his
big boy, Henry, would quit their everlasting talking
and give me a couple of doughnuts.

Less prone to disputation, yet no less constant at
those Sunday services of the primitive days, when
John F. Brooks, Elisha Jenney, C. G. Selleck, Rollin

394 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Mears and Alvin Dixon ministered here, were the
Holmeses, father and sons ; the Posts, father and
sons ; the Moultons, father and sons ; the Peets, the
Peases, the Thayers, the Goes, the Roots, the Arch-
ers, the Wadhamses and the Salters, all good men
and true. James Salter was a romantic novel reader
when the town was founded. Scott was his favorite
author. Hence came to the village the name of
Waverly, so that the last syllable should have an e.
Mr. Salter is here to-day and the two moss-roses on
his cheeks are as red, as when my cousin Miranda
fell in love with them half a century ago. No less
honored were the names of Turner, the village black-
smith, and Ross, the martyr of Shiloh. Friends, on
your next visit to Chicago, go and see the Shiloh
panorama. And as you look upon the picture of
that frightful carnage, drop a grateful tear to the
memory of Col. John W. Ross, who died for the re-
public upon that battle-field.

Mention should be made of Godfrey, Rohrer,
Caruthurs, Kennedy, Ward, Filley, the carpenter
who built the first house in town ; Huntley, who
made harness while his wife made sweet bread and
still sweeter poetry ; Wemple, Lindley, Hutchinson,
Uncle Sam Javins, Achilles Deatherage, Uncle
Billy Deatherage, the first postmaster ; Sevier,
Agard, Bigelow, the model church sexton; Lombard,
Tietgen Sperry, Everett, Farmer, Hanly, Palmer,
Taylor, Vanwinkle, Taintor, Gunnels, Simms, Rice,
Jones, Waller, Samples, Rhodes, Meacham, Manson,
Woods, Gould, Ham, Barker, Metcalf, Hitchcock,
Church, Harmon, Watson, Hughes, Miner, Nelson,
Grossman, Eldred, Jarmin, Knapp, Hopkins, Henry,
Challen, Hall and Harris. Mr. Harris figures as

EARLY MEMORIES. 395

Waverly's "two bits" hero. The legend runs, that,
when he reached the town, he had no money. Pres-
ently there came a letter from his distant "sweet-
heart," but the postage was not paid, and letter pos-
tage was a quarter of a dollar then. Uncle Billy was
afraid to trust him, but said he wanted a hundred
white oak rails, and said that there were ax and
wedges and beetle, and yonder were the trees..
Young Harris looked at the ax, looked at the
wedges, looked at the beetle, looked once more at.
the letter and struck a bee line for the timber.

Let the speaker make grateful mention of Claudius
Sackett, who, from the love that he bore to the
father, always had some word of encouragement, or
something more substantial still, for the boy.

Some of you with strong arms have brought in
and placed near by Stephen Allis, who is still bright
in mind, but helpless in body. There was a funeral
at "The Range" forty-seven years ago. A living
boy lay in a cradle, and a dead boy lay in a coffin.
The father and mother of the former tried to com-
fort the weeping father and mother, and the latter
said: " give us your boy, to take home instead of
our own." Gocl bless you, my would-be father by
adoption ; take home with you to-day my love to
my would-be mother my adoption, who in weakness,
painfulness and decrepitude waits for the Master's
call.

There were two typical deacons in that early day.
Possibly they were no better than the deacons of a
later generation; yet, to the child they were sur-
rounded with a halo of sanctity, which refuses, to
gather around any others in that office. Cleveland J,
Salterand Dr. Isaac H. Brown are associated in mind,

396 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

with the best Heavenly portion, and the best earth-
ly portion. Some of my first thoughts of the life
beyond were awakened by Deacon Salter's solemn
appeal, as one day, on the old North farm, I dropped
the corn for him to cover where the hills were miss-
ing.

And later, when there came over the youth that
human longing which none escape, and he went to
the old doctor about it, how nervously the young
man watched the latter breaks sticks over the blade of
his pen-knife, in the way which many of you remem-
ber, till that awful silence was broken by a delight-
ful little speech about " the hand of Divine Provi-
dence " in the affair in question.

Had Lumas Hoyt lived to see this half century cel-
ebration, he would have been more than a century
old three years the senior of " Uncle Homer Cur-
tiss." The two might have sat here together, this
afternoon, and have counted out a round two hun-
dred years. Father Hoyt's lasts were sometimes a
trifle behind the fashion, but who else ever made
such boots and shoes to wear! Moreover, in theol-
ogy, few of the ministers were as well read and as
sound. You could not spend an hour with more
pleasure and profit than in taking a seat in that lit-
tle shop, and in watching him drive in the pegs,
while he talked of the leading divines of the early
part of the century.

Knowing that I came last on the long program
for this occasion, I felt that I could do little more
than allude in this hurried way to the men whose
faces were familiar in childhood. I have tried to
give the names, at least, of all whom I could remem-
ber. Possibly, some have escaped recollection.

EARLY MEMORIES. , 39 ^

Other persons, who were even more prominent, may
have been omitted, from the fact that the little' cir-
cle in which the speaker moved as a boy did not
extend so far. Let any oversight be charged to ig-
norance, and not to intention.

No reference has been made to any except the
friends who figured here during the first half of the
half century. If there were time, it would be de-
lightful to review the second half to talk of many
whom the last twenty years have made near and
dear; of a brother minister whom we are glad to
welcome here once more; of an old associate in
the seminary, when we issued the flaming hand bills,
in which that blundering printer, by an abominable
abbreviation, made us pledge ourselves to furnish
mathematics, Latin and Greek, in unlimited quanti-
ties, at so much per quart, (Ralph, weren't those
white days for you and me?) Recall the school
board, the sturdy boys and the pretty girls that we
taught, some of whom are here to-day, fathers and
mothers, with numerous editions of themselves. But
most are scattered, and not a few are beyond recall.
Some died for country; some have fallen in their
prime: Humphrey, Barker, Gould, Godfrey,
Meacham, Lindley, Cunningham, Frederick Brown
and Adoniram Carter.

And there was the Shakespeare Club. . Such meet-
ings and suppers as we had at Thayer's, and Nich-
ols', and Curtiss', and Caldwell's, and Salter's and
McKee's! Good-bye, romance! There's a frog in
the throat, Bob, and John, there's a mist before the
eyes. The story grows too long. The speaker must
pass by the rich and abundant reminiscences from
1860 to 1885. Waverly was dear in childhood ;

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Waverly is dearer still in manhood. Her citizens
began the half century by building and consecrat-
ing to Christian learning the old seminary in Wav-
erly. Her citizens have closed the half century
with most generous contributions toward the per-
manent endowment of the old college at Jackson-
ville. The spirit of the fathers descendeth unto
the sons. Friends of the past, and friends of the
present, with full heart I would express to you all .
my gratitude.

But a look of reproach is visible upon some of
these- faces. It says, do you remember only the
men of other days? Have you forgotten the sisters
and wives and mothers of long ago? No! no! But,
somehow, I have shrunk from making free with
their names on this public occasion. Only an
orphan boy can appreciate an older sister's patient,
unselfish, life-long affection. The companions of
that sister have come to seem like so many older
sisters, too. And within memory's most sacred
shrine hang the pictures of saintly women, who
loved the boy's mother, and watched with her day
and night, and laid her in the coffin, and followed
her to the grave, and wept there, forty years ago.
And, afterwards, the husband of one of those saintly
women sowed with grass the double mound that
marks the resting place of the father and mother of
Waverly's first child. And the old sentinel still
keeps his solitary watch near by, though his steps
totter beneath the burdens of a century.

Friends of the younger day, be patient a moment
more. Let the century speak to the half-century.
Said I, not long ago, to Uncle Homer Curtiss, the
venerable patriarch of Waverly: "What period of

EARLY MEMORIES. 399

your life is sweetest in the recollection?" Replied
he: "The days when Charry and I were poor ; the
days when we 'were struggling to make a home ; the
days when we were trying to train our children up
to Christian manhood and womanhood."

Said I : " What is the best safeguard of the house-
hold?" Said he : "The altar of prayer."

SELECTED THOUGHTS *

There is a certain subtle force, generated by the utterance of
one's own thought, not found in the words of others. The
thought may in itself not be so striking, but it has such special
interest for you, that you are able to invest it with peculiar
interest for others. You remember what Touchstone said
about his wife: "She is an ill-favored creature, but then she's
mine."

"Flee from storms," reads the motto of Leonardo. Leonardo
was one of the world's finished artists. He also had the
strength of a Hercules. He could paint an eyelash or bend
a massive bar of iron. He was the combination of a Richard
and a Saladin. But in the echoes of that motto, he shows him-
self a manikin and not a man. "Flee from storms?" No!
God give us heroism to weather out all storms that break upon
us while we seek to know and to do his will!

The ladders that God lets down from heaven are never
escape ladders, up which old sinners may climb, and so get free
from temptation. They are but gossamer things, up and down
which spiritual messengers may glide, now and then, to show
that communication is still open between the earth and the
sky.

We often run through the Bible, as boys do through an
orchard, autumn days, now biting out the sunny side of a
peach, and now slicing the maiden's blush from an apple, but
never going down either to the pit of the one, or the core of
the other. To reach the real seed truth of much of the New
Testament, you must work through the pulp, or in case

*Taken from President Tanner's unpublished writings.

402 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

there seems to be no pulp, it is well to remem-
ber that that which does not mellow up at the first touch
may be the choicest. "Late fruit keeps best."

There is plenty of nerveless pity in the world, and there is
plenty of harsh determination. But there is very little mingled
compassion and compulsion. That is divine. In God it has
most marvelous manifestation. When he says; "I will guide,"
it means a love that can not hear no, that must have its own
way, because that way is the absolutely best.

Many sermons are like wrought nails, pounded out, and then
pounded in most faithfully. But forgetfulness comes along
and draws them with a single jerk of the claw-hammer. Why?
Because they are not clinched. Figurative language has not
been employed to make fast the points.

We enter into no conjecture concerning the nature of the
spiritual form. Many have labored to prove that we shall
carry these very bodies yonder, but science shows that all of us
of mature years have hadahalf a dozen bodies, each composed
of different particles from every other. How could we recover
one of the first five, and how could we take with us even the
sixth, after it had been subjected to earth's subtle chemistry?
There is no great profit in such speculation. Could the trans-
fer be made, these clay tenements would hardly be worth the
transportation. In dealing with a grand truth like this, why
will men play with the shell and forget the kernel? So
much the Christian may know, that he shall bear the image of
the heavenly. Such is the teaching of the Book. The individ-
uality of the soul must continue forever, and each soul must
have its own spiritual body; and that body shall be freed from
all the grossness that afflicts us here; and the lips shall know
no language but that of thanksgiving; and the eyes, which are
now fountains of tears, shall be brightened by bliss unalloyed;
and no lines of contraction shall be seen upon the open brow
of God's child. O ye Christians, unto whom the image of the
earthy is most grievous to-day, be patient, be of good cheer,
for we shall soon rejoice in the image of the heavenly. Hos-
pital Lecture.

SELECTED THOUGHTS 403

Mirth is to life what the white caps are to the ocean. It gives
brightness and beauty. Without it, human existence would be
but one succession of dead ground swells, rising and falling in
heavy mqnotony.

A man who is conscious of great mental grasp and power,, is
seldom a profane man. An oath is interjectional in its nature.
Your professor of rhetoric will tell you to cut out your "oh's"
and "all's." The interjectional style is always a forcible feeble
style. When the intellectual begins to distrusfitself, it catches
convulsively after emotional expression, which is essentially
interjectional. Said Dr. Lyman Beecher to his son: "Henry,
when I begin to holler, you may know that I have, run out of
ideas." The general .principle is the same. A resort to decla-
mation, or exclamation, or imprecation is a virtual cry for help.
It is an attempt to hide a weak spot, or to cover a retreat.
Chapel Lecture.

Beyond this brief span of mortal existence, the signature of
Dives is not worth one drop of water. It is the Lazarus who
was the debtor of the very dogs that licked his sores, whose
name is paired with Abraham's, shining on and shining on
world without end.

Yes, go where you will, to the luxurious apartment where
carnal gratification intoxicates the senses; to the shrine where
culture feeds her vestal fire; to the high place where honor
weaves the laurel crown for the favorite; to the new academy
where science waits to hold sweet converse with her votary and
you hear the same sad cry of the soul: "Better than all these
are the windows of God's love. There is for me no rest till I
enter there" That cry is the prophecy of the ''clouds" that, by and
by, shall be seen flying thither. But do not wait for that day,
O heart of the broken wing, only let him see, here and now,
some weak, painful struggle to rise, and the tender hand of a
compassionate Christ shall lift you up to the window that is
open for you. Hospital Lecture.

God put every human being into this world to do that which
will pay the best. If you have squandered all the chances but
one, and that one is brought within your reach, as a sensible

44

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

man lay hold upon it, and make the most of it. That is com-
mon sense, and Bible sense too. Said some one sneeringly:
''When a man is going down in a sea of trouble, pitch him a
religious plank, and he will take it." Well, why shouldn't he?

However it may be in married life, this is certain, that to live
happily with conscience you must love, serve, and obey.

Where else will you find another brotherhood of five thou-
sand men, who are contributing so much toward the best intel-
lectual development of the western continent, as the five thous-
and men in the faculties of our American colleges? It is a de-
lightful privilege, a distinguished honor, to speak in their name
in this presence to-night. Ladies and gentlemen, would that I
could give you some fitting conception of the fine enthusiasm
with which these instructors have, within the last month, wel-
comed to beloved halls of learning seventy-five thousand of the
choicest youth of the nation! There is a fascination in a festal
scene like this. It quickens the blood. It purifies the senses.
It exalts the intelligence. There steals over you a grateful
complacency that you are counted worthy of society so affluent,
so easy in manners, so cultivated in thought, so worldly wise
and still so devoutly minded. Yet how little can one do for the
profit of such a company of self-poised men and women. But
were these places filled by lads and lasses of eighteen, like
those who have just left some of your homes for Monticello,
Bradford, Wellesley, Beloit, Amherst and Yale, with the light
of morning-land breaking' through their tears, and were you
conscious that through study and ripe experience you could
lead them on toward the realization of what is fairest in a girl's
dream and manliest in a boy's ambition, would not the sight
move you more profoundly than even that of this brilliant as-
sembly? Jrom an address at a reception to Dr. R. S. Storrs.

I used, now and then, to go through an Indian graveyard out
west. There were all sorts of crockery, tin, and iron dishes and
kettles hung up for the use of those who had gone to the "happy
hunting grounds," but every article had a hole punched through
it so that it was not worth anything for this world. Now that

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 405

is just like the spiritual insurance of many pale-faces. That is
their idea of laying up treasure in heaven. According to their
notion, the worse things are spoiled for time, the surer posses-
sions they make for eternity.

Whence fell that paralysis of terror upon that hardened rep-
robate, Legree in Uncle Tom's Cabin? A knot hole in an old
garret, the neck of a bottle and a gust of wind? No, it was the
eye of the Omniscient revealing the secrets of a sin-blackened
soul. My impenitent friend, can you bear to have that eye
fixed upon you, looking you through and through for eternity?
Is there in that no hell?

I saw in a public assembly, the other evening, a man wear-
ing a suit, the whole warp and woof of which said flour, bran,
shorts. The individual seemed to be a sort of human chame-
leon, taking the hues of his surroundings. It was really re-
freshing to look upon one who so believed in his business, that
it showed in his very clothes.

"Come," "come," "come," the New Year repeats the word.
T'is the burden of this week of prayer. The air is heavy with
the invitation. It floats down to us from our father's home.
yEolian chords, swept by the spirit of God, vibrate: "Come,
come, come." The Savior speaks from his table of love, while
the hovering spirits of the glorified, catching his accents, are
whispering: "Come, come, come." Communion Sermon.

If you could penetrate the heart secrets of mankind, you
would see that only a few of the dreams are fulfilled. Every-
one carries his own Aladdin's lamp, and keeps up a private
peep show, into which others are not permitted to look. How
everyone's face would burn with confusion, if there were pub-
licly displayed, here, all the wild possibilities which ever had
place in his thoughts. The miscarriage of these has been his
prevailing experience, but he would not have the world even
suspect what castles he has been building in the air, only to see
them topple and fall in steady succession. He puts upon the
secret a dead-lock, which nobody can pick. The farmer boy
seems to be plowing for corn, and he raises corn; but he drops

406 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES. '

into these furrows, on the sly, other seeds of the strangest va-
rieties, which never sprout and flower and fruit. Nobody be-
sides himself and his Creator will ever know of that secret
planting and failure.

Wed a pure life to sweet courtesy. Each is intended for the
other.

Any young man that has the social and intellectual gifts to
make a successful lawyer, may, through the grace of God, be-
come a successful, minister. The alternative is put thus: "Have
I got to study theology?" "Can I not study law?" This is
simply the throwing of dice loaded in favor of Blackstone.
Chapel lecture.

You have known grateful relief in moments of dire perplexity,
when the hand of some man or woman, calm and strong, has
been laid gently, lovingly upon your head. But what was
that compared with the soothing touch of this Prince of Peace?
For the wounded heart there is nothing so healing as the
wounded hand.

God never suffers anything to run to waste. You remember
how the Master, after miraculously feeding the thousands,
bade his disciples pick up every scrap that was left. If he
showed such rigid economy respecting a little bread and meat,
is he going to let escape and come to naught the prayers of
his people, the sweetest incense that goes up from earth to
heaven?

It is one of the hardest tasks in the world for a man of quick
spiritual insight, who at a glance penetrates to the heart of a
truth, to make allowance for his dogmatic brother, who is for-
ever pounding away at the shell of that truth, and yet never
cracks it. But that dogmatic brother is entitled to no little con-
sideration for his perseverance, for his being willing to work
so hard for pay so poor. Take Martin Luther. He vexes you
with his gross, material view of the Lord's Table. There he
stands. His opponent plies him with argument. Luther
points as rigidly as a guide-board to the bread, and only
says: "Hoc est meum corpus," tiki's, is my body. His op-

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 407

ponent continues the plea. Replies Luther :"Hoc est meum
corptts." Another shape is given to the argument. Yet noth-
ing can be \ x rung from Luther except "Hoc est meitm corpus"
For reasoning, ridicule, entreaty, the stubborn monk has only
that response: "Hoc est meum corpus." Till, finally, in admi-
ration for his very obstinacy, you exclaim: "Well, stick to it,
Martin ! If the Lord loved even the disciple who denied'
him, he cannot help loving one who fights so fiercely to defend
what he considers the broken body of his Master !"

If you should point to the golden moments of your life, you
would point to those which were ticked out so wearily in the
night watches beside the bedside of suffering. I have read,
somewhere, that there are plants which grow in the night and
rest in the light. Some of the sweetest developments of
Christian character are possible only in the hush of a darkened
room.

Witness the joy of the horse-tamer, as he reins some fiery
steed down the track. What must be the joy of Him who
drives the chariots of unnumbered suns on their courses through
space, without catastrophe!

It is impossible to embody the thoughts of Jesus in the
language of Cicero and the language of Demosthenes. I re-
member, very well my astonishment, the first time that I ever
tried to put the sentiment of the eleventh commandment and
of the golden rule into classical Latin. That language in its
golden age had no words for such ideas; such ideas were not
native to the Seven Hills.

One night, fifteen years ago, I was riding on horse-back from
Waverly to Jacksonville. I had written, to that time, about as
many sermons as has the candidate. The traditional barrel
was unnecessary. I covild have put all the precious documents
into a peck measure, and then have had plenty of room to rent.
I was disheartened. I had pretty much concluded that, when
the Lord called somebody else, I answered; that I'd ask for-
giveness for the blunder, and quit the pulpit forever. How dark
it was! How far away the stars! About ten o'clock, I overtook

408 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

a man driving home eighteen or twenty mules. Having never
been any more successful in the mule business, than in the ser-
mon business, I was whipping by, when he called out: "What's
your hurry? Help me a bit, and this will be a good time for me to
tell you that I want you to stick to preaching; you'll learn, by
and by. Why, there was one passage in your sermon last Sun-
day that would have done credit to Professor Post;" bless the
mules! What a transfiguration! I could have believed that
Elijah had a pair for leaders, on that memorable aerial drive;
and it seemed no longer strange that the Lord of glory himself,
rode as he did into the holy city, while the multitude shouted:
" Hosanna in the Highest!" May your pastor fall in, here-
abouts, every now 'and then, with some such mule-driver.
From a charge to a church at an installation.

It is a common misfortune for two public men, amid the
competitions of the world, to become enstranged, in following
what both conscientiously believe to be the course of duty and
of wisdom. Often, both thus suffer grievously through life. From
conflicting interests and peculiarities of temperament, harmo-
ny is impossible. The matters at issue in such a case must be
left to the bar of God for settlement. In the flooding light of
eternity, it will be seen that both were true in their convic-
tions, and they will clasp hands again, with the exclamation,
'' Why could not this revelation have come before?" How
much more delightful is the experience, when we learn to see
eye to eye, once more, here below, and the old love comes
back again ! At the funeral of Professor R. C. Crampton.

A small college like Middiebury is better than any other to
bring out the originality and independence of a young man-
Dr. Post felt and asserted this, both in private and in public.
Bear this in mind, any of you who in your ambition are some-
times tempted to think that, if you were only in a great institu-
tion, your surroundings would lift you into prominence and
power. Remember that involution is the measure of evolu-
lution. If it is only in you, Illinois will be your Middiebury.
There is ample sweep here for the full length of your radius,
till graduation. Again, Dr. Post was never heard bewailing
the fact that his genius had no scope within the narrow walls

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

409

of a small, fresh-water college. He did not spend his time in
craning his neck to find a place in some famous university.
But, by faithfully and patiently discharging his ordinary daily
duties, he grew so large that the outside world could not help
recognizing his worth; and thus more lucrative positions were,
without his solicitation, urged upon him for acceptance. The
world is always on the watch to bid such men: " Come up
higher." From an address on the life of Dr. T. M. Post.

The voice of the prophet is hushed. The face no longer
shines with the reflection of Jehovah's countenance. But men
do sometimes walk close enough to the deity, to divine ; his
thought, to speak with an assurance which is the emanation
of his presence, and to diffuse a restfulness which issues from
the peace of God. Upon the death of Dr. C. L. Goodell.

There is at Hannibal, Mo., overlooking the Mississippi, a
high precipitous bluff, called" Lover's Leap." It matters not
concerning the old tradition connected with the name. I re-
member climbing to the summit with a friend, one sultry Au-
gust afternoon, five or six years ago. My companion showed
me where, in the war times, men had dug rifle pits and thrown
embankments, to protect the city below from the raids of
guerrillas. He talked about the latent heroism called out by
the struggle, and then we tried to realize how we should have
felt lying on the spot, waiting for the charge of some butternut
brigade. We concluded that we might have shown some val-
or; especially, as the only chance to run away would have
been to begin the retreat, by a leap of some hundreds of feet
down the cliff. Last February, I went up there again, alone.
That friend was living still; but he did not climb hills any
more. And then that summer afternoon came back again and
that half serious, half sportive talk on heroism, and then the
thought of him, as he had been lying nine weary months, the
prey of wasting disease; and I said: " Brave heart, heroism
is no longer talk with you, it is a terrible but grand reality.
You were not sure how you'd have borne the crack of rifles and
the whistle of bullets; but what is such courage compared
with the unflinching fortitude with which in the sick room
summer, and autumn, and winter long, you have been watch-

41 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

ing the insidious approach of your foe? What is it that checks
every murmur, that stills all alarm, that enables the tried soul
to say: ' Thy will be done.' " And the sun flooded the city,,
and there was a dazzling brightness upon the face of the ice-
bound river, and in the silence on the hill came the answer,
" The love of God."

As a rule, he that would be admired in coming ages, must
be content to forego present applause, must grapple with
themes too complicated to secure the sympathy of his own
day, must have faith to see an audience in the distant future,,
whbn mankind shall have plodded slowly on, and have come
up to his advanced ideas.

The ash-heap of Job has risen till it has become the highest
Helicon of holy song.

Our hope is in the Church of our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ. That hope may seem to be a forlorn one, but it is the
only one we have. Our dependence is on that same old crew,,
that has weathered out so many storms. Only its members
know how to handle rigging and rudder. And even if they
have to run the vessel aground by and by, they'll pick out the
best place to beach her, so that, at least, on planks and spars
and broken pieces of the ship, we may, like St. Luke and St.
Paul, and the rest, get safe to shore.

If, sometimes, when I think of heaven, the image of the
Son of God recedes, and in the foreground appear the forms
of those whom I have loved and lost on earth, is that an.
offense to my Heavenly Father?

Once let the power of the Highest over-shadow a soul,,
and make itself felt in that soul's regeneration, and that soul's
salvation is secure. There is joy in heaven whenever a sinner
turns unto God, and straightway the recording angel writes the
new name in the Book of Life. Are, then, those holy choirs
sometimes deceived? Do they sing, now and then, a prema-
ture song? Does the scribe make false entries and blot them
out again? Is that blessed catalogue blurred with blunders,

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 41 1

here and there ? Nay that is a joy forever. That song shall
never turn to a dirge for a lost soul. The entry, "born again,"
means God's blessed child for evermore. Therefore, if the way-
ward youth once gave good evidence of genuine conversion,
deal with him patiently and hopefully. His Heavenly Father
understands him best. There is a presence from which the
head-strong boy will not escape. No matter how far away
he may stray, he will be followed by that constant, " come
back." He may grow reckless and even profane. But hell
and damnation will be the substance of that profanity. The
words accord with his abandoned mood. He will not very
often take the name of God and Christ in vain. Why ? He
shrinks from that. There is one poor little remnant of that
old first love, which shall at last be restored, and bring the
prodigal to himself and to heaven. Keep this Bible open be-
fore him, let your own life exemplify its teachings, and leave
the rest with God. Chapel Lectitre.

Did you ever try to use a plow with only one rusty spot the
size of a dollar in the middle of the share? You remember
how the dirt would stick there and stop you, no matter how
highly polished the rest of the surface. Possibly, there is in
your character one such rust spot, and it has this peculiarity,
that it is just the size of that " almighty dollar."

One generation must perish by the way. The first great
leader must be content with a distant view of the better land
from Nebo's summit, and then lie down in the grave in the val-
ley of Moab.

The voice of lamentation is never heard on the streets of
the New Jerusalem. No hearse is seen there. No dirge wails out
upon the air. Every other city has its cemetery, its silent city
outside the walls. But the weeping willow will not grow
in that soil, there is not a tomb-stone, the sexton's spade
troubles not the clods of the valley. For nobody can die there.
It is beyond the resurrection. All is life-everlasting. And
Jerusalem is above sickness and suffering. Institutions of
charity and mercy are the glory of cities here below. They
speak of a philanthropy akin to Christ's, but love for one an-

412 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

other seeks different channels yonder. No institutions for
deaf and dumb and blind rise to view. Every ear is unstopped.
The glory of God is read by every eye. They build no hospi-
tals there, for every wanderer has come to himself, to sit at the
feet of Jesus, and rest the head upon his hand. Jesus alone is
free from fret, and worry, and weariness. All is tranquil, qui-
et, restful. It is just the home for you, my friend. Hospital
Lectiire.

This is not a world of fallen angels. It is world of fallen
human beings. God wants them, with a yearning inexpressi-
ble. He wants you. He calls to you now. For how long
still shall thy journey from Him be? When, when, wilt thou
return?

Always head up stream like a packet. Then conscience can
hold you steady, wherever you make a landing. Otherwise, the
current may work you off and away, with the loss of gang-plank
and whatever is on it.

Did you ever drill in the war days? You remember the old
words, "Mark time, march!" Wasn't it tiresome ! But wasn't
it necessary? What order could there have been without it? It
was a great dampener to your volunteer enthusiasm, to be ob-
liged to lift your feet and put them down, in the same place,
hour after hour. You had just enlisted as a hero, with mother
and sweet-heart looking on in tearful admiration, and then to
be forced into line, and go to "marking time." But that learn-
ing to keep step was really your first step to victory. There
could be no "forward," until there had been "mark time." Then
do not be impatient, when God commands "mark time." He is
getting you ready to move on, as soon as the appointed hour
arrives.

Congregationalism is not a cave of Adullam, filled with all
the malcontents of Israel. She tolerates vagaries on the non-
essentials of the Gospel, but when a man refuses to listen rev-
erently to the words of Jesus Christ, as the Son of God and the
Savior of the world, when he substitutes for those words his
own speculations, however specious and captivating, she bids
him seek fellowship in some other communion. Recall such

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

4*3

individuals and churches as have become heretical, within your
personal acquaintance, and you will bear witness that those in-
dividuals and churches began to go astray by indulging in
speculations and hypotheses which they refused to test by the
word of God. Fondness for their own theories and contempt
for written revelation grew in the same proportion till, at last,
having lost all sympathy with the historic doctrines of our
polity, the offenders withdrew, or were refused the fellowship of
the denomination. This process takes time, but the result is
inevitable. The polity has in its constitution a very happy
faculty of working out and sloughing off elements essentially
unsound. This does not, however, hinder progressive thought
respecting Christian doctrine. I am aware that Dr. Dexter and
some others have maintained that the much-quoted utterance
of John Robinson concerning further light to break from Holy
Writ, refers to questions of polity, and not to questions of
religious belief; but, with due deference to such high authority,
I cannot so interpret the declaration. It was the crowning
glory of the most illustrious figure in the annals of Congrega-
tionalism, that he foresaw the ever-increasing suggestiveness of
the words of Jesus, from age to age. The only restriction which
he. would have placed upon any new hypothesis, any strange
speculation, would have been that it must be abandoned, unless
in perfect accord with the manifest trend of New Testament
doctrine. From an address before the State Congregational
Association.

There are those that aim so high that they fire into vacant
space, and hit it.

But, says some one, why do you not preach salvation? Why
do you talk about gluttony and dram-drinking and opium-
eating and wrath and revenge and moral suicide? I answer,
what do you mean by salvation? Is not your notion of the sig-
nification of that word somewhat foggy? Salvation is not sim-
ply going to a place called heaven. It is deliverance from
every-day sin, here and now.

Truth encircles herself with womanly reserve, but error keeps
no body guard.

414 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

The horizon of Christianity always stretches away and away
beyond civilization. A little boy came running up to me, one
morning, face all aglow, and hands full of flowers which he
said he got away out there where the sky is. So the children of
this world will often hold up before you beautiful things, they
declare they've brought from the very outer verge of the Old
Revelation. And they seem so exultant over it, that you have
not the heart to dispel the illusion, any more than I had to spoil
the pretty fancy of that child, though I knew his feet had
trudged out but a very little way toward the rim of the firma-
ment.

After much casting about for some type which would present
to my own mind most simply and readily, the outline of this
wonderful yet perfectly harmonious doctrine of the Trinity, I
find myself turning oftenest to this humble comparison. Take
a tree in summer time. If you are tempted at the outset to
say that anything so common-place degrades the subject, re-
member how our Master stooped lower still, when he said: "I
am the vine and ye are the branches." Take, then, the tree in
summer time. There is the root, there is the body, and there
is the foliage. Each lives. Each differs from the other two.
Each is essential. As a vital organism, the tree is sensitive
through root, and body, and foliage. Abuse any one, and the
other two suffer. There are the three, and yet the tree is one.
The root, the body, the foliage. Father, Son, and Spirit, the
invisible, the tangible, and, as it were, the whispering of the
leaves!

If you would test the depth and purity of a man's religious
life, notice how he talks about other people, but especially
about those in his own calling. And, if you would get the key
to a woman's character, it is not probable that you will find it
at a prayer-meeting or at church. She will be much more
likely to let it drop when conversing off heir guard in society,
respecting such sisters as move in her circle, or in the one that
she wants to enter. Just notice whether in speaking of them,
she is hearty in her praise; or whether her talk is full of 'yets,"
and "buts," and "ifs," and ominous pauses, and significant ges-
tures, I see by your faces you know what I mean.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 415

A young man always believes in driving things. He likes to
crack his whip. This is true in the clerical profession as well
as in any other. If you turn over a minister's barrel of sermons,
you find the harshest utterances at the bottom. The latest dis-
courses are the mellowest.

How some of our calculations must sound to God and the
angels! We say of this man that no one can tell how much he
is worth, the figures are up in the millions; but, by and by, an
administrator is appointed, and he goes through the estate, and
gives you the result in dollars and cents, there it is but yon-
der on the brink of eternity is a starving, shivering soul, bank-
rupt forever.

It cannot be denied, that there are rugged hills which mean
hard climbing, but then there are easy declivities and smiling
valleys upon the other side, just the country to call down the
early and the latter rains, and to set them flowing everywhere
in streams of refreshment. You have come to a place, where
you may get a farther reach of vision, to strengthen you for the
struggle. Catch a glimpse of what lies yonder. At the North
of Africa, Spain proudly wrote on the Pillars of Hercules: "Ne
Plus Ultra" nothing beyond; but hardy navigators, with sub-
lime faith in a better country toward the setting sun, went sail-
ing out into the west singing, as they sped through the Straits
of Gibraltar, "Phis Ultra" more beyond. That is the senti-
ment which you want to take with you into the discouragements
of this first week of study, amid these new scenes. Let the
mountain frown as it may, the valley will but smile the more
invitingly from the summit. This is a rolling country. It is
not all steeps, not all dead levels. The prospect which opens
before the student, varies day by day. These ways of wisdom <
sometimes toilsome, are, nevertheless, ways of pleasantness.
Chapel Lecture.

You remember the exciting race of the steamboats, Natchez
and Robert Lee, from New Orleans to St. Louis. On the morn-
ing when the victorious boat came in, I went down to the land-
ing with a southern friend. A hundred thousand people lined
the levee. As the magnificent packet swept proudly up stream
and swung round toward the shore, shout after shout arose

416 SEEMONS AND ADDRESSES.

from that great throng. My friend, catching the enthusiasm,
turned upon me, saying: "How now about that old tub of a sail
boat, the Mayflower? Hadn't they better lift her anchor, cut
her from her moorings at Plymouth Rock and let her drift out
into forgetfulness?" The Mayflower "drift out into forgetful-
ness!" That scene upon river and levee had a certain dash and
brilliancy; but it lacked breadth, and depth of historic perspec-
tive. Already, it begins to fade from recollection. The May-
flower "drift out into forgetfulness!" No! No! From genera-
tion to generation, New England's sturdy sons bring fresh live
oak for her keel; and New England's fair daughters make over
her white wings; and the genius of the republic adds star after
star to the flag at her mast-head; and up from the Gulf, and.
down from the lakes of the North, and across the mountains
from the far-away Peaceful Sea, loyal hearts respond: "We
cannot forget what the whole Union owes to the principles of
1620." Let the Mayflower ride the breaking waves of the na-
tion's thought, from age to age. Amen! From an address on
Fore-fathers Day.

When we reflect upon the part which children who die in in-
fancy have in training sweet affections, and then remember
how, in vanishing from the family, they leave those bruised
affections clinging to the Rock of Ages, to grow there in beauty
and strength forever, we discern the Creator's beneficent
design in the giving and the ending of such brief lives, and in-
stead of calling them blighted, pronounce them "finished"

The Christian sometimes mistakes disease for . depravity.
There was the poet Cowper, one of the purest, sweetest souls,
that ever sang out sad song on earth, one whose hymns are a
perennial fountain of blessing to humanity, one who to-day
strikes the lyre with David yonder. Yet he was so preyed
upon by this sense of unworthiness, that only now and then did
he catch a glimpse of the light beyond the cloud. Bodily dis-
ease had so dimmed his vision, that he wrote of himself as one
'who, tempest tossed and wrecked, at last, comes home to port
no more." But, says his nephew: "there was a look of holy
surprise on his features after his eyes were closed, as if there
were very bright visions for him behind the veil that was im-
penetrable to him here."

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

The average American claims the right to go to Washing-
ton, and shake hands with the President in the most familiar,
"you-and-I," fellow-citizen fashion. But etiquette atthe White
House and etiquette at the White Throne are two very differ-
ent things. The average American takes with him into his
religion his ideas of democratic equality. He fails to appreci-
ate the height of the throne above the footstool. He talks as
if the two were upon a level. The old-time awe has dis-
appeared from addresses to the Creator.

Some of you have read the vEneid. You reollect the ac-
count of the storm on the Tuscan Sea. You remember how
the tempest-tossed hero was borne to a foreign shore. As he
wanders there, with heavy heart and gloomy forebodings, his
own divine mother comes down from the skies, to comfort and
guide her desponding son. But she comes in disguise. The
man knows not her that gave him birth; still he listens to her
words, he grows less despairing, he insensibly follows her di-
rection. Thus they talk on, they walk on, until the tower of
Carthage breaks upon the view. Then, just in sight of the
city of rest, the cloud that veiled divinity is parted, .the god-
dess is revealed, the son cries in wonder: "My mother!" "My
mother!" So it is with some that are born of the, Spirit.
They are led by One that they know not. There may be, now
and then, the shadowy consciousness of a heavenly presence,
still there is no recognition. Finally, just in sight of that
other City of Rest, there is a change, there is a rustle of wings,
and the dove that hovered above the Son of God at the bap-
tism, flies on before to its home.

A college that calls itself Christian is not properly equipped
that has not, side by side with its literary societies, as dis-
tinctly recognized and respected by faculty and students, a
society for training its youth in religious thought, expression
and activity. Chapel Lecture,

It is wholesome for every man to be dragged sometimes to
the brink of the bottomless pit, and be compelled to look
down into it, and to hold his breath, and to think for a moment
of the possibility that even he may plunge into that abyss.

41 8 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Physicians very generally condemn the use of tobacco.
The exceptions which they make are in case of advancing
years or of a superabundance of flesh. If there be among us
an old man, whose medical adviser says that he is in need of
such solace, or a fat boy whose medical adviser says that he
needs such shrinkage, by all means let the man or boy have the
prescription. Chapel Lecture.

I went, the other day, to a place which I have not visited for
many years. It was the place that I used to repair to as a stu-
dent, when the lessons were hardest, and ideas for essays
were scarcest. The past all came back most vividly. I was a
Sophomore again, in one of those intervals when omniscience
does not appear to be his forte. He has not a few such inter-
vals, and they are dismal enough. At such a time, the Sopho-
more is one of the the most pitiable objects in nature. He may
not then admit it, but bring an old graduate to the confes-
sional, and he will acknowledge to you, that he has no de-
sire to go back to the fears, misgivings, and struggles of that
year, when the student is supposed to be free from even the
shadow of a suspicion that he is not competent to fill any po-
sition within the gift of the American people. I came from
that spot, with all its crowding recollections, carrying a heart
mellower than ever toward the Sophomore. Chapel Lecture.

Only husband and wife have free access to the heart. The
sharing of that from which every other human being is de-
barred, is the wine of Ufe, This is the nearest approach to the
meaning of the life hid with Christ in God. Yet, within this
inner privacy of the married relation, there is a holy of holies,
which even husband and wife cannot penetrate. There is an
altar where God and the soul must meet alone. The husband
must stand back, reverently, while the wife ministers there;
and the wife must stand back, reverently, while the husband
ministers there.

I believe that there are heroic struggles here for self mastery,
and for every such triumph the recording angel dashes away
the gathering tears, and writes: "Well done," in the book of
everlasting remembrance. Hospital Lectitre.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 419

Labor, compelled to grind in the prison house, blinded and
maddened, like Samson of old, at length lays hold upon the pil-
lars of the social fabric, and threatens to bury master and
slave in one common ruin.

I maintain that the law of competition and the law of love
must both be obeyed if there is to be any permanent amity be-
tween capital and labor.

When I was in college, I used to be a great admirer of the
essays and addresses of E. P. Whipple. I have often wondered
why he did not fulfill the promise of his youth, though I have
never searched for the reason; but the other day my attention
was called to this explanation: He made haste to be famous;
he took no pains to lay deep foundations, and to widen his in-
tellectual horizon; he never used the telescope and swept the
heavens; he confined himself to the microscope and to isolated
subjects. In his early days, he had despised the patient labor
of laying in a generous background, to give strong and ample
support to the efforts of maturer years. He struck ten early,
but he ran down before he could strike twelve. Chapel
Lecture.

Illiteracy is the tempest center, which threatens the destruc-
tion of that constitutional liberty which the fathers builded.
The little red school-house is the burning bush in the wilder-
ness, out of which God declares the secret of deliverance from
multiplying perils. Protect the little red school-house from its
secret or open foes, whether they be infidel, or catholic, or
protestant. Let the state assert her independence and her
supremacy! Let her listen to no dictation from any of the
churches, or from the enemies of all the churches. Let her
guard her own treasury, and provide therefrom for every child
a common school education in the English language. If
assured that it is furnished and enforced in other ways, let her
not interfere with conscience; and let her lay no restrictions
upon higher education under secular or sectarian direction!
Just so much, and no more, is demanded for self-preservation.
And may he who lifts his hand against the commonwealth in
snch assertion of her majesty, be branded as the enemy of democ-
racy in America!

420 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Last fall I was interested in watching a tree in a garden.
Though the fruit was not large, the color was fair. The tree
stood near the road, etc.; the fence was low, yet the boys did
not climb over. There was not a single club lodged up among
the limbs. But, one night, we had a heavy frost, and, the next
day, those branches were bare. "It takes frost " to make per-
simmons good fruit. You may be acquainted with Christians
of this persimmon variety. Farther on, is another tree. You
are tempted to pass it by. The fruit has the size and hardness
of bullets; in general, it wears a sort of leaden look. You can-
not detect the least likeness to the rosy or the orange hues,
that beautify others near by. The sun pours down his rays,
month after month, to see what he can do. The earth cracks
open to catch the rain; then closes, and gives the dry roots a
hot pack, to cleanse the pores, and quicken the circulation. And
thus the toilsome process goes on. You notice that the fruit is
slowly growing but its surface is getting more freckled, and
ugly, week by week. You turn away in disgust. Yet come back,
late in the autumn, and look up, and you will see those limbs
laden with golden russets, the apples that you love best in the
long winter evenings, when the storm rages without and the fire
roars within. A great deal of Christianity, in this world, is of
the rusty-coat variety; but it stands the final test.

The little Jordan cuts a deeper channel in thought,' than the
mighty Amazon, with all its waters.

"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." This law
of time is likewise the law of eternity. Physical relationships
will disappear in the realms where Christ declares that they
"neither marry nor are given in marriage;"' but spiritual affini-
ties will be perpetuated, world without end. This is one of the
noblest incentives to a close community of religious interests in
the home. Let Christian consecration bind together all the
members of the household in a holy alliance, and, though death
may. seem -to break the golden links of the family chain, one by
one, and to leave them as only shining fragments on the shores
of time, the Lord of Life will unite those links again till the
chain is complete once more, and so long as the blessed enjoy-
ments of eternity last shall the words hold true: "As for me and
my house, we will serve the Lord."

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 42 I

You never saw two human faces that you could not tell apart.
God never runs out of patterns. He never duplicates. Every
time that he creates a human being, he gets up a new design,
and then breaks the mould.

To-day, the lad may give the smallest and sourest apples to
his brothers and sisters and make sad havoc with the sweet-
meats which his mother supposes securely hidden in the pantry,
but to-morrow he will dream of being the benefactor of his
native town, of rearing asylums for orphans, and of making
munificent provision for churches and colleges. That one who
.seems to you nothing but a gross compound of selfish animal-
ism, does, now and then, have some very serious thoughts about
being an angel by and by. Only do not expect of him a
precipitate flight up out of these things of time and sense.

It is the yth of August, 1679, a day pregnant with the issues
of the future. Poets have sung of the Argo and of the quest of
the golden fleece; but what poet ever sang of the Griffin, the
first vessel that plowed our inland seas? As La Salle turned
her prow down Lake Erie toward the head of Lake Michigan,
it was the fine prophecy of the fleets and commerce of to-day,
between Chicago and the ocean. In contrast, how trifling was
the value of the golden fleece! When the epic poet of America
is born, his hero will be La Salle, the hero of Illinois. * * * I
have dwelt at such length upon Indian and French sentiment
and heroism within our borders in the long ago, because,
though they have little place in the thought and talk of the
multitude, they give a certain remoteness, a glamour of distance,
a glow of imagination, a richness of suggestion, a dash of
chivalry, a robe of romance, to a commonwealth which is
usually looked upon as knowing no past, as having suddenly
sprung out of the prairie sod a generation ago, a foundling and
a groundling, coarse, gross, groveling, without a pedigree,
great and to be great in nothing but the lustiest animalism,
* * * We have no reason to blush for our heritage. The
past is rich in sentiment, and chivalry, and romance, and de-
votion, and loyalty, and heroism. It is an honor to be able to
say: "I was born in Illinois, I live for Illinois, and I hope to
rest, by and by, beneath the sod of Illinois." From misaddress
before the State Press Association.

422 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

The Department of sociology is as yet a vast unknown. It
has its explorers, but they do not reach the interior. They
coast along the shores. They map out the headlands. They
sail up a stream here and there, till they come to rapids and
cataracts. But it is another dark continent still waiting for its
Livingstones and Stanleys.

Every Christian should be a church-member for his own sake..
He is safer. He is less exposed to temptation. You godly
people respect him, now. He is free from any suspicion of
moral cowardice. The world is not constantly trying him, to
see whether he is spiritually vertebrate or invertebrate. He is
classified. He is not one of those nondescript specimens, which
people delight in handling over and over, as they do any other
curiosity, till they damage it unintentionally in trying to decide
what it is and where it belongs. * * * A man may get his
title clear at last, without joining any church, but he will cer-
tainly, at the same time, have cut down his pattern for all
eternity. * * * Enrolled soldiers press forward toward
the front, shouting the name of the King. Independent camp
followers bring up the rear, on track of spoils. Both may enter
in through the gates of the celestial city, but which shall stand
nearest to the throne of the Great Conqueror?

" Ephraim is a cake not turned," saith the Scripture. How
many such Ephraims a long-suffering world has to digest! The
market is full of fruit picked too green. When will our youth
learn to let the ripening process complete its mellow round.
Chapel Lectitre.

Have you not repeatedly, when listening to some discussion,,
said to yourself: " How stupid in me never to have put that
thought into that clear statement before; the material has been
right here within my reach. That idea is no more the speaker's
than it is mine. That is my luck. I'm just a little too late. I
did not happen to think quickly enough." O no, my friend,
there is no happen about it. That is genius. That idea is more
his than yours. He has the power of taking that truth up out
of the mind's unsorted materials, and making it stand out clear
and beautiful.

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

Very frequently our Father hedges up one way, that he may
divert us into another path which will bring us to a better out-
come of the general enterprise.

There is less and less anxiety as to how people are baptized,,
and more and more anxiety that people shall repent, so as to be
fit to be baptized.

The greatest internal peril to American Christianity, at pres-
ent, is the reluctance on the part of men and women to go into'
a room alone every day, and shut the door, and devote them-
selves to an earnest, patient, prayerful study of the Word
of God.

When I was a boy, I used to think that if I could be a min-
ister, and make sermons for a steady busines, I could just drop
out of the Lord's prayer the petition, " Lead me not into temp-
tation." But of all temptations, the most subtle, and danger-
ous, and everlastingly present, the one that you may think
that you have scotched and killed, and that, in three minutes,
will be livelier and uglier than before, is this temptation to
magnify self, instead of magnifying Jesus of Nazareth.

Free domestic expenditure and niggardly public benevo-
lence are conclusive proof of a little soul. Out upon the no-
tion, that lavish outlay at home should shield from contempt
the man who is mean and miserly in matters of public welfare.
He is of the same size as the man who spends his money di-
rectly upon himself. About the only difference is that the
one is made on a B last and the other on an A.

Remember it is not a proof of a misfit in life, that many of
your purposes fail of accomplishment. If you have ingenu-
ously committed your way unto the Lord, he has formed a
plan for your life, and he is carrying out that plan right
through the thwarting of many projects which appear to be es-
sential to earthly success and to the welfare of Zion. This is
the hardest lesson that God has ever set me to learn. My
young friends, may his gracious Spirit incline you all to heed
this lesson earlier, and may he give you strength to master it
more perfectly. Chapel Lectiire

424 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Notwithstanding the prosy character of the regulation work
of all vocations, there is great comfort, satisfaction; yes exhilara-
tion, in the assurance that one has got into the little niche God
intended that he should fill. The drill days are many, the
field days are few. We must find our joy in the former and
leave the sending or with-holding of the latter to an all-wise
Providence. That shepherd lad waded the brooks of Bethle-
hem for years, picking out the smoothest pebbles, and training
hand and eye upon a thousand worthless marks. But there
was a chance to make himself a marks-M AN. That he would be,
whether or not a Goliath ever came that way. It is ours to get
ready. It is God's to send us the fine opportunity, or not, as
seernethto him best.

There is not one of you, who does not know what the word,
ought, means; and yet it is the profoundest word in the lan-
guage. It reaches to the bottom of hell and to the summit of.
heaven. And the wonder of it is that the smallest boy yonder,
in his little sphere, understands the essential meaning of that
word, "ought," just as well as the great God understands it in
the unmeasured sweep of his thought. It is only in his worst
moods that even the insane man gets beyond the recognition
of this imperative. Every public speaker has felt, much bet-
ter than he can describe, that mysterious response, noiseless,
but thrilling, which occasionally comes to him from his audi-
ence. I recall an afternoon, years ago, when I was chaplain
at the insane hospital. I was preaching on a kindred topic,
and took occasion to crowd home the thought, that there was
not a man or woman present, who did not, then and there,
clearly understand and distinctly recognize the binding person-
al application of the word ought. The hush was like the hush of
the grave. Nobody looked excited. The effect was tranquiliz-
ing. It was a moment of wonderful calm upon a troubled
sea. Chapel Lecture.

You put a little leaven with even three measures of meal
and it will change the character of the whole mass. You put
a little leaven with only a handful of meal, and you will have
nothing but froth and ferment. When self-righteousness gets
hold of a small man, its work is especially deplorable.

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

425

Everybody will sooner or later go to his own place, just as
certainly as did Judas. Who can tell precisely when that
question was forever settled in his case? Was it not till he
went out and hanged himself? Was it when Satan entered into
his heart at the last supper? Or was it that evening at Bethany
when he rebuked Mary for pouring the precious ointment upon.,
the head of the Redeemer? We are told that, as far back as
that, he was a thief. Or may not the crisis have come much
earlier, some day when he was sitting alone upon the shore of
Galilee, counting the cost, and deciding that the service of his.
so-called Master would not pay ?

The deepest affection for those who are gone may be proved
by tender solicitude for those who remain. It is a sad mis-
take, in a season of bereavement, or disappointment, to shut
ourselves in from the world for months and years. The no-
tion may be partly good. It may seem a tribute of devotion,
an evidence of special tenderness of heart, or of a peculiarly sen-
sitive organization; but there is a danger that an intrusive and
ruinous selfishness will take possession of one who thus sets
aside the claims of society, and broods over private sorrows. God
would through these trials and afflictions educate us to a
sweeter womanhood, or a finer manhood. Yet, how often do
such things embitter and belittle the sufferer. If another
.life has been the joy of my life, and 1 am then left behind in
this world, that memory should be to me an inspiration, reveal-
ing the power of one soul over another, and quickening within
me all the springs of benevolence.

For four thousand years, the wise ones of the earth had been
preaching from the text, " Know Thyself." They had pre-
sented this, outline, and that, to humanity, insisting this is you,
and that is you, yet the reply was carried back invariably:
" The feature does not suit. It is not like me. This is too gross,
and that is too ghostly." Then appeared Christ, saying: " Lost
image of my Father's glory, let me try." One sitting was
enough. There was no mistaking the faithfulness of that
likeness, with all its sptanic or angelic possibilities; and the
response came: " I see, I see myself at last. How tmtch do I
owe Thee, OLord!"

426 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Do not pry too curiously into the hearts of those who do you
a kindness. Throw the dollar into the market for what it
will bring, and not into the retort to see what it is made of. Es-
pecially in reference to the every day courtesies of life, should
we avoid all careful inquisition. These are mostly spontaneous.
Each has so trifling a value that there is little temptation to
adulterate. It is possible to counterfeit even a penny; but it
does not pay. You are safe in taking such small change with-
out examination. So is it with the little civilities which are cur-
rent among men. Chanel Lecture.

That was to Abraham Lincoln a dreary day in '54, .when
Lyman Trumbull triumphed over him in the contest for the U.
S. Senatorship. But it was God's will that he should stay at
home, and get ready for the memorable struggle with Stephen
A. Douglas, in '58. And again the same glittering prize slipped
from his eager hand, and his long face grew yet longer with
disappointment. But it was God's will that he should stay at
home once more and wait for the presidency in 1860. "Per
ardua ad astra." Thackeray gets at the philosophy of all this
on the human side, in a homely but piquant way, when he says:
" If you lose a tooth, it may give you a momentary pang, but
do not stop eating. Learn as quickly as possible, to mumble
your crust on the other side of your jaw."

When you go into any calling or profession, it is necessary if
you succeed, to adopt the motto: " This one thing I do." But
precisely there comes in a danger. Beware of saying in the
most rigid sense, I will be nothing but a lawyer, nothing
but a farmer, nothing but a doctor, nothing but a
merchant, nothing but a preacher, nothing but a college
professor. While most of our energies should be given to the
specialty, sufficient should be reserved to insure a genuine in-
terest in whatever gladdens Christian civilization. Michael
Angelo came along one day, took his stand beside a pupil and
watched the work. Presently, without speaking, he reached
over the youth's shoulder, wrote upon the canvas the single
word "amplius," wider, and walked away. That word was
to the boy at once a revelation and an inspiration. Every on
needs to carry with him into his all-absorbing work that talis-
man, Amplius. Wider.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 427

Wisdom's advance guard always occupies as outposts, what
will be the camping places of the hosts, a generation after-
wards.

We can never prescribe the agencies through which God
must work out the deliverance of his people. He may dis-
miss all of our fine martial array, and summon to the field only
some boorish Shamgar with his oxgoad. We elders have our
fixed habits for fighting the battles of the Lord. They cannot
be wholly changed. We must still wear a helmet that feels
easy to the head. We do better service with a coat of mail.
It would be cruel to ask us to lay such trappings aside. They
and their wearers deserve credit for past achievements. Still,
our eyes should not be blind to the other fashions that are com-
ing in. It is well to adopt such as will not be too trying to our
stiffened limbs; but, at all events, let us give the younger men
perfect liberty of selection. What is a fit for us will be a mis-
fit for them. Chapel Lecture.

" Shall I be remembered by posterity?" said the dying Gar-
field. How varied, tremulous and pathetic are the tones in
which the soul cries after immortality. Even when the author's
voice is hushed in the last sleep, the silent volume into which
his life has gone, looks down from the library shelf with mute
appeal for recollection. During the last month I have had oc-
casion to give a cursory examination to several books written
by friends whose earthly life is ended. The books are good,
and true, but, somehow, they have failed to impress themselves
upon this generation, the dust begins to settle upon them, and
there will be no call for another edition. There has been a
choking in the throat and a dimness of vision, at thought of the
hopes which have not reached fruition. And so the other even-
ing, as I turned over leaf after leaf of that manuscript volume
on Moral Philosophy, reading here and there a passage, written
with a hand trembling with the chill of more than four-score
winters, my heart went out with loving tenderness toward the
patient, unassuming, appealing old gentleman, whom circum-
stances had denied even the satisfaction of seeing in print his
book, the child of his old age. At the f^tneral of Prof . Mason
Grosvenor.

428 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

"Wherefore wilt thou run, my son, seeing that thou hast no>
tidings ready? " This youth, Ahimaaz, represents a multitude
in the present generation. You hear on every side the clamor
of those who want to run without the trouble of getting their
tidings ready. To-morrow morning, in this building, more
than one instructor will have occasion to say: " Wherefore
wilt thou run my son, seeing thou hast no tidings ready? " How
often does Ahimaaz appear upon the platform, on Wednesday,
with no tidings ready, with an old selection imperfectly learned,
and delivered with stammering tongue and confusion of face;
or it may be with so-called tidings, in the form of essay or ora-
tion, which suggest to the mind of the hearer nothing but the
" wherefore," of the text. We want for recitations and for
rhetoricals more men with "tidings ready," men whose work
smells of the lamp, men unto whom a black-board is not a hor-
ror of great darkness; men whose translations catch Homeric
and Horatian pitch and tone; men whose reading in philoso-
phy takes them far enough beyond the text-book to reveal the
difference between Comte and Kant. Chapel Lecture.

There is the impassable gulf between the saved and the not-
saved. This is no plea that, in referring to lost men, we should
learn to talk of them as Wendell Phillips does about the
"Lost Arts," letting his hearers down, from the pinnacle of
pride in so charming style, that there is fascination in the
humiliation. It must never be forgotten that the soul is in
danger of eternal damage. No one can, without trifling, dis-
course of Paradise Lost as he would discourse of the lost arts
of making malleable glass and Damascus blades. The latter
are fit subjects for the most brilliant rhetorical treatment. But
the New Testament conception of guilt and its consequences
cannot by any witchery of speech be transformed into a thing
of beauty. Sin, unrepented of, is a sorrow forever.

It is a blessed thing to be brought, now and then, into con-
tact with a life larger, sweeter, purer than your own. It saves
you from utterly losing your confidence in human nature.
You pick up the poor broken ideal and put it together once
more, piece by piece, and, though the cracks still show, you do-
not dash it down again, as a worthless thing.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 429

Should you happen down by the railroad, take a look at one
of those black chunks lying on a coal-car. "Well, what of that,"
say you. Why, the next time you see it, it may be streaming
from the burners yonder in Amusement Hall for you to dance
by. When the prodigal gets home and there is music and
dancing, it is often by the light that God has brought out of
these same dark earthly experiences. Hospital Lectiires.

When men assail the wonders of the Old Testament, or of the
New, and seem to overwhelm them with contempt, be not
alarmed. You may have to give up some of your old notions.
But go fearlessly to the Book. Free it from the traditions of
men. Put it upon its own merits. Let it speak for itself. "The
word of the Lord endureth forever." There is no more convin-
cing proof of its inspiration, than the fact that it has had to carry,
century after century, the misconstructions of friends, and the
libels of foes, and has still won more and more upon the heart of
the world, from age to age. And so it is to continue, sloughing
off the blundering interpretations of its adherents, and repell-
ing the malicious assaults of its enemies, until the truth as it
is in Jesus shall have "free course, and run, and be glorified:"
and this Sacred Volume shall become the great text book of
the nations.

One afternoon, last winter, we had a long talk together. He
said that he, years ago, settled down into the belief that
probably there was a God somewhere, but that he himself
must try to do about right and then take the chances. I told
him that I thought that a very bad creed, either to live by, or
to die by, that I could not bear to see him face the future with
nothing better, that what he needed for the ordeal, manifestly
just before him, was the presence of a sympathetic Christ,
strong and grand. He said he knew it, he wished he could be-
lieve as I did, he wished he could accept the Bible. I urged
him to let the rest go for the present, and read and pray over
the Gospel of John. He went on to say that he was thinking
on the subject as he had never thought before, that he did not
want to make a mistake, that if he was right and I was wrong,
he was no -better off than I; that if I was right and he was
wrong, I was infinitely better off thanhe. "And," continuedhe,
" what do you think of this? I had a praying father and mother,

43

SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

and they are constantly with me in my sleep, urging this matter
upon my attention. I do not know what to make of it!" I an-
swered that I did, that it was a beautiful illustration of God's
use of natural agencies; that he himsell had just said that his
waking thoughts were on the subject of religion, that he had
told me incidentally a little while before of being obliged to take
an opiate, at night, to deaden pain and secure sleep. Now the
opium simply vivifies your daytime thought, intensifies it, cuts
pictures so that you seem to see the very features of those, who,
when you were a child, prayed that you might be a child of
God. There are no spirits there, but what the doctor gives
you to relieve this suffering body, God is trying to use to save
your suffering soul. . * * * The weeks passed on. It seemed
to me that I could see a change. That hard stoicism softened
into resignation. His wife noticed the difference. There was
a sweetness of disposition, a self-forgetfulness unknown be-
fore. I said no more for a while. I did not dare to speak. It
was a trembling hope that God's spirit was doing the work. I
was afraid of spoiling it. Finally, one day five or six weeks
ago, we were alone. He had been suffering, and I was trying
to support him in an easier position. I put my hand on his
head and said: "Joe, haven't you learned yet to lean on the
arm that is strong?" And he answered: "Yes, there isn't any
other." Said I: "I am thankful, then, that God has sent all
these afflictions upon you. How glad I am you did not die last
year." Said he: "So am I. I'm willing to live still, but now
I'd like to go." At the funeral of a friend.

The soul shudders as it looks down that inclined plane of
eternal degradation which is lost to view in the bottomless pit.
The soul exults as it looks up those heights of blessedness
which rise in easy succession, till the summit is resplendent
with all the possibilities of a blessed immortality. My young
friends, you may live fifty years, and yet, practically, reach the
limit of your probation, this very night.

Would that be/ore their damning sin, men might have some
glimpses of those horrid visions that come after, visions which
people the chambers of the soul with ghastly shapes that never
rest; shapes that with stealthy tread and white faces and
sunken, staring eyes, glide everywhere!

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 43!

I could shut my eyes, and even hope, with Tennyson, "that
no life may fail beyond the grave," if some one would only
harmonize this voice of him that wears the laurel of England,
with the voice of Him that wore the crown of thorns in
Palestine.

If religion is ever more precious at one time than at any
other, it is in the night watches. It has then special power to
quiet our exaggerated fancies. Celestial forms glide in between
us and those spectral shapes that frighten, and, instead of the
voices of dread, the air is full of whispered benediction.

Some one has made this curious calculation. A bar of iron
worth five dollars, if worked up into horse-shoes, is worth ten
dollars and fifty cents; made into needles it is worth three hun-
dred and fifty-five dollars; made into pen-knife blades it is
worth three thousand, two hundred and eighty-five dollars;
made into balance springs for watches it is worth two hundred
and fifty thousand dollars. Would you be pig-iron forever,
rather than feel the fiery breath of the forge and the hard,
blows of the hammer? Would you have the process stop with
the horseshoe, or the needle, or the knife blade? Wouldn't
you have God go on with you, tillyoti are fit to help keep time
for eternity ! He wants to bring out the very highest value
that there is in us, and the only way is to heat, and to beat, and
to temper and to polish. Is it wise for us to cry enough until
he is done?

We have only a little time to work. These fleeting years de-
cide momentous issues.

During the war, I was living in Oregon. There was over
across the coast range, along the ocean's break, a little isolated
county called Tillamook. It numbered j^lst thirty voters. A
stray newspaper which contained the announcement that the
government would be obliged to resort to drafting, happened
to get over there. Word was brought back that all Tillamook
was in arms. That Tillamook wasn't going to stand the draft!
Don't you know of a good many people that under God's gov-
ernment are forever working themselves up into a petty fury
and playing little Tillamook?

432 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

There rises to view a little red school house, in. a village of
long ago. The scene'is like that which may be looked upon,
in any rural region to-day. The games vary somewhat. There
is less of hopscotch and shinney. Foot-ball has had its evolu-
tion. Town-ball has developed into base-ball. Peg-top, and
" sheep and wolf " have disappeared. The dresses of children
have lost their frontier look. Home-made has given place to
ready-made. But the faces of the little men and the little women
vary not from generation to generation. Still the one scene is
history, while the other is only prophecy. Yet the latter brings
back the former, and in succession the long-forgotten reap-
pear, some to tarry, some to vanish with the years. Farm and
store, shop and home all have their representatives, but those
representatives are not to you just like the others in their
neighborhood. You detect the school traits. You trace the
influences of the period when you were children together, and
the grasp of the hand means what it would not otherwise. The
lad who could not lie, even to the teacher, is the man whose
word is as good as gold to-day. The rogue who tricked you
out of your marbles then, is the trader who will cheat you out
of your horse to-morrow. And how thickly the graves multi-
ply! The headstones are humble. Between the lines of some
inscriptions you read a playground trait. In other cases, you
smile incredulously, at the taffy in the epitaph. What a trans- .
formation must have been wrought in that once common clay!
Most of the slabs have two dates: birth and death; and be-
tween them a hyphen, nothing more. Was it a comedy? Was
it a tragedy? Was it both, so blended that even affection
hesitated to put upon the marble a prediction of a nobler
after-place by and by? You go from mound to mound. Some
of the headstones have fallen, and the long grass has grown
over them. As you push it aside, and spell out the yellow
names, you call up the shadowy faces, that you had utterly
forgotten, and that must have faded utterly, from the mem-
ory of all others. But God will remember, for they once had
a trace or two of his likeness.

The doubt which is sincere, earnest, prayerful, does not
court publicity. It carries on the conflict in secret, and is still.
Blatant skepticism always excites suspicion as to its own gen-
uineness.

SELECTED THOUGHTS.

433

I must confess that my great disappointment, in my more ma-
ture religious life, is the failure to find in all employments an
ever-abounding gladness. Obedience to my Master's law has
brought deliverance from bondage to sundry evils, and with it
a certain ease in the discharge of once difficult offices, but the
fact fails to carry with it the sense of unceasing delight, which
I know ought to be the ever present attendant of such an ex-
perience. * * * Am I not, in thus voicing my own shame,
giving utterance to the grief of every Christian present over
his unthankfulness, and his inexcusable lack of buoyant en-
thusiasm? Still more am I amazed and confounded at the dis-
content and petulance so characteristic of my ordinary conduct,
when I turn from the days that are gone, and catch a glimpse
of the possibilities of the life to come. In falling so far below
the prevailing gladness, which should be my constant portion
in view of the power of the endless life, would that I were
alone!

The mother clings to the son, as sne does not to the daugh-
ter; and the father cherishes a tenderness for the daughter
which he does not for the son. Nevertheless, a peculiar inter-
est centers in the future of the latter. He bears the family
name. Upon him depends its perpetuation. That name may
be by no means illustrious, but there is, in the breast of every
man, an aversion to having his name die with himself. * * *
Cicero discovers, here, an intimation of immortality* He sug-
gests that the father is unconsciously influenced by a belief
that; in another state of existence, he shall watch the unfolding
of his own family history on earth, from generation to genera-
tion. Revelation is silent on the subject; yet I am confident
that the philosophy of the question is somehow wrapped up in
the doctrine of the everlasting life.

Acquisition makes the money. Distribution makes the man.
Distribution without acquisition dissipates the money. Ac-
quisition without distribution dissipates the man.

Mountains are the places for eagles' nests. It is invigora-
ting, now and then, to watch flights where the air is too thin
for your own wings.

434 SERMONS 'AND ADDRESSES.

Not a few of the women you and I remember most, are these
unwedded wt>men of the schoolhouse. Of them, poets seldom
sing. Of them, society speaks with a smile, half pitiful, half
contemptuous. But of them, this world is not worthy. We
glorifiy the self-sacrifice of motherhood. The sight is fair.
But let us be impartial. Love not the mistress of the home
less, but love more the mistress of the school. It is the fashion;
to magn if y the influence of the mother's kiss upon the destiny of
the boy, and the fashion is excellent. But men, up and down
the world, could tell you, it they would, that it was not so much
the mother's impulsive kiss as the wise affection of the conse-
crated woman in the schoolhouse, that awakened their first im-
pulse to do fine service for mankind. There is something
touchingly pathetic, in the history of many who thus spend
year after year, in this ministry of instruction. An under-
tone of sorrow arouses curiosity, and, at the same time, the
quiet dignity of the personality checks impertinent questioning.
You picture to yourself some disappointment, which is hiding
itself in a hundred gentle offices. What might have been a con-
vulsion loses its violence in the beneficent labors of love. God's
eye reads with fondest affection many of these unwritten biog-
raphies, which are sealed books to you and me, but which
draw us with an indefinable sympathy towards their objects,
as we watch them pursue their silent, uncomplaining way;
gently restraining the rudeness of childhood without casting a
shadow upon its joyousness. You may detect, now and then,
some surface sign which indicates that there still exist con-
flicts in secret, when the heart cries out for a love which it
cannot find, a richer token of appreciation than another's
boy or girl can give: but it is only for an instant, and then
the current flows on as tranquilly as before. If the novelist
were content with the beauty of spirit, rather than the beau-
ty of the flesh, he would find more frequently in the little
red school-house, his heroine. If the dramatist were satisfied
with anything less than the wild display of passion, he could
discover there not a few suppressed tragedies. From an ad-
dress entitled " The Little Red School-Housed

It is time for men to learn that it is not safe to slap the face
of the King of Kings with the flat palm of a saucy rhetoric.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 435

If you find yourself becoming irritable over your little house
and cramped circumstances, instead of walking up and down
some grand avenue, and making yourself believe that you are
a badly abused individual, because you are not the owner of
this beautiful lawn, or of that brown-stone front, find your
way to some back street, where the tenements are twelve by
sixteen feet and one story at that, where the shingles let in rain
and snow, where rags are stuffed through broken window
panes, where there is a general air of forlornness, where the
girlhood is hardened out of the mother's face, where sullen-
ness has driven manliness from the father' countenance, where
half-fed and half-clad children quarrel for a crust, and a place
next the dying fire, and can't you see fingers pointing at you
on every side, and can't you hear voices crying, ''shame,'
'shame," upon you, for your discontent and rebellion!

The nearest approach to a pastoral charge that I have ever
enjoyed has been an insane hospital chaplaincy for the past
four or five years. We have an average congregation of about
250 persons. I love those people very dearly. I love to
preach to them better than to any other audience. We close our
Sabbath service by repeating the Lord's Prayer in concert .
As tremulous voices here and there speak the words, "Our
Father," and presently shattered brain and broken heart falter
out, "Thy will be done," and a moment later, some whose own
will power has been destroyed by terrible temptations and the
chambers of whose imagination are haunted by spirits of evil,
cry feebly and piteously, "Lead us not into temptation, but
deliver us from evil." I believe that the great heart of the in-
finite God yearns over no other congregation in the city, as it
yearns over that one-.

You sometimes hear folks say that God may admit them and
give them the remotest and humblest place in the kingdom. I
am sure that our Father does not want us to pray so. It has a
mean sound. It is no index of genuine humility. It is a sort
of reflection upon Him, as if it were a pleasure to Him to send
some poor soul out to dwell on some celestial frontier. No !
He would have us come up and take heavenly places in
Christ Jesus, nearer, nearer, ever nearer to Him.

436 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

Let now the prayer of Socrates introduce the conclusion of
this address: "I beseech thee, O God, that I may be beautiful
within." Spiritual beauty! You hold in your hand a sea-shell.
The flow of its curves and the blending of its tints are perfect.
You do not wonder that the song of a far-away ocean lingers
there in diminuendo. When you lift that shell to the ear, the
fairness of the sight, by association, sweetens the sound. In
these days of pilgrimage, the soul may take on such form and
color as shall give fitting welcome to the wave-beats of the
"Sea of glass." Lord Bacon, in saying that, "beautiful persons
have a beautiful autumn," must have been thinking of this
spiritual type of fairness. The suggestion is grateful to those
of your number in whom the bright picture of this morning's
graduation awoke half-envious longings for a return to the
younger day. Physical beauty may have vanished. The
promise of intellectual beauty may have been only partially .
fulfilled, on account of life's hard conditions. But these autumn
alumnae display a richness of spiritual beauty, which we shall
not discover, this side the twentieth century, in our girls who
have just received their diplomas. "We shall see the KING in
his BEAUTY." And we shall be like him. And that beauty
which is as enduring as the life of God, is the beauty of HOLI-
NESS. From an address to the alumnae of Jacksonville Female
Academy,

Little children sometimes stay here only long enough to
leave a picture for a frontispiece. Those who go hence a trifle
later, write out, it may be, a page of the preface. Those who
remain until opening manhood or womanhood, and then de-
part, have but finished the preface, indicating their general
purpose. Those who lay down the pen at eighty, have only
got through with the introductory chapter.

The crowning glory of our colleges is their silent but all-per-
vasive influence. Their very presence is a mute but eloquent
protest against sordid ambitions, coarse tastes, animalism, an-
archy. God grant that their healing shadow, like that of St.
Peter upon the streets of Jerusalem, may fall, more and more,
upon the multitudes afflicted with divers maladies, throughout
thsee commonwealths.

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 437

Some time ago a friend came to OUT house with a hyacinth
which looked healthy and just ready to bloom. 'She said it had
remained so a long time, and she thought a different location
might bring it out. We watched it for several days, but there
was no sign of a change. Finally, a careless child knocked
over the flower pot, spilled the dirt upon the carpet, and strip-
ped off most of the buds. We put the hyacinth back, as best
we could, and called it ruined for the season. But what was
our surprise, a few days after, to find it blooming and fra-
grant. It was not equal to what it might have been, if its first
promise had been fulfilled, but such flowers as there were,
were larger and sweeter for the fall that had brought it to
itself. There are a great many broken hyacinths in this
world.

"Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them." If you will
turn to a concordance, you will find two columns referring to
the word fruit; one column referring to the word root; half a
column referring to the word wood; and a quarter of a column
referring to the word leaf.

Take a simple illustration of the Bible doctrine of Chris.tian
service. You are a house-holder. You hire a man to do a piece
of work. He reports himself at night. He has performed the task.
You count him out the stipulated sum. You take no special
interest in him ; he feels no gratitude toward you. It is simply
a business transaction. Just then, ydur little boy comes rushing
in with dirty hands, smutty face, and blood up to fever heat.
He has been digging away in the garden to please you. You
look out. Your hired man would spade up more ground than
that for a sixpence, or worse, perhaps, what the child has done
is a positive damage; he has thrown up a bed, where you
wanted a walk; or has unwittingly destroyed some of your
choicest flowers; but, as the little fellow stands there, panting,
and telling how glad he is to help you, your eyes fill, and you
are ready to give him greenbacks, purse, and all! Now it is
just such help as that, that God wants from you and from me.
The spirit is everything. What if our zeal does lead us into a
blunder occasionally ? He does not wish to deal with us on the
profit and loss principle.

438 SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

It is a heroic sight to see one that is rich, giving, liberally not,
for applause, not from fear of Jehovah, noi from impulse, not
because he loves to give; but because he hates to give; to
shake off the fetters of mammon, to assert his independence,
and to proclaim himself God's free-man. .

Take a piece of graining. To be sure that the man that did
the graining was a master of his art, you must pick out some
panel on which he tried to represent birds'-eyes shivers in the
oak, or better still, just examine his work where he endeav-
ored to bring out a knot in the wood. The knots are the true
tests in the graining. In judging your character, God does not
look at the light and the shade and the general spread. He ex-
amines the knots. If you are converting those into things of beau-
ty, he has a place for you yonder. Did any of you ever live in a
part of the country where fir was the principal timber? If so, you
have a vivid recollection, of your first attempt at splitting fire
wood. You got warm a great deal faster than did the people
n the house. You know that, in that kind of tree, wherever a
imb shoots out, a pin runs into the heart of the trunk. How
you drove the ax into the soft wood, now on this side and now
on that, all to no purpose, till an old settler came along, took
pity on you, and split the chunk at the first blow, by simply
bringing the edge of the ax down upon the center of the knot!
If you want to lay open character, just strike for the ugliest
knot in it. That was what Christ always did.

The only way for your chinless man to be sinless is to keep
far away from temptation.

Whenever, in life, a Mount Nebo obstructs your way,
climb it. God is there. Let Him teach you to face your
disappointments without repining. He will talk with you
about it until you understand, till you realize the blessedness
of those that mourn.

How can he who reviews the past and dwells upon the
many proofs of God's loving providence in his personal history,
let the doxology die out, and the minor key steal into so many
strains of his psalm of life?

SELECTED THOUGHTS. 439

Daniel Webster silenced if he did not convince another, who
had confused ideas upon the Trinity, by saying with that
majestic manner so characteristic of the statesman: "Sir, you
cannot understand the arithmetic of heaven!" I used to ac-
cept the answer as satisfactory, but it does not seem so these
later years. With all deference to so great a name, I cannot
think that the fundamental rules of heaven's arithmetic differ
from the fundamental rules of earth's arithmetic, that if Abra-
ham, Isaac and Jacob, and you and I, were given some exam-
ple in addition, subtraction, multiplication or division, we
should get contradictory answers.

It is only when you examine yourself in the presence of
Christ, that you get a genuine photograph of your moral
character.

Said the dying artist Sala, when they had borne him to the
church that he might take a last look at his work: " That will
do." It is not the spread of historic canvas; it is not the size,
but \h.Q finish of the picture, which God looks for from you and
me.

Heart strings like harp strings must be strained to be
brought into tune. Discordant notes are harmonized by sor-
row. You can not weep with those that weep, until you
have felt the pangs of bereavement. After that, whenever
you go to the house of death, you thank God that you have
followed the hearse from your own door; for whereas, before,
you looked on with a mixture of curiosity and sorrow, now
your heart throbs with earnest sympathy for the afflicted; and
presently there are lights within your own darkened soul; foot-
falls that ceased long ago, are caught once more. There glides in
the form that was your strength and joy for years, before you
were left to battle alone. You hear anew a father's last pray-
er and a mother's last whisper unto Jesus, for you. You clasp
again the golden-haired darling that Christ took so soon to be
of the kingdom of heaven. There is no Christian here for
whom the first anguish is. past who does not feel that it is
blessed to have jewels in burial caskets. Thanks be unto God
for the hours of weeping which melt down the icy isolation of

44-O SERMONS AND ADDRESSES.

self, and bring us heart to heart with our brethren; "which draw
us away in our desolation unto the Man of Sorrows, making us
fitter for life and fitter for immortality. Then let the grave
stones be set up, here and there, lest we lose our way to
heaven! The Mount of Crucifixion and the Mount of Olives
were near together. The hill where Christ suffered lay over
against the hill from which he ascended to his throne. So it
becomes us, when we are called upon to suffer, to find and walk
in that divine path which leads'from Calvary to Olivet. What if
our sorrow does endure for the night ! What if the night be
long ! What if, though we turn our faces patiently towards
the East, we catch no more than the signs of the dawning!
The morning will break, at least Yonder, where gladness
shall be eternal; where darkness never falls; where there can
be no night, for the Lord of Light is there. From his pres-
ence all shadows vanish. All sighing dies away. The soul
that has been sorely tempest-tossed, shall sail there on the
peaceful sea, the sea of glass that mirrors no frowning sky,
that reflects only the fathomless azure of Infinite Love. Oh,
the morning joy of that shining sea, shining shore, shining,,
city, shining throne, shining glory of God !

-11 " " = x

H577' 176-