An address delivered before the American Whig and Cliosphic societies of the College of New Jersey

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DR. JOHNS'S ADDRESS.

AN ADDRESS

DELIVERED BEFORE THE

AMERICAN WHIG AND CLIOSOPHIC SOCIETIES

OF THE

COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY,

SEPTEMBER 29, 1840.

By the Rev. JOHN JOHNS, D. D

OF BALTIMORE.

PRINCETON:

PRINTED BY JOHN BOGART.

1840.

>

NSW YORK PUBL. tIBfc,

III EXCHANGE.

i

Extract from the Minutes op the American Whig So-
ciety at the Annual Meeting, Sept. 30, 1840.

Resolved, That a Committee be appointed to tender to the
Rev. John Johns, D. D. the respectful acknowledgements of
this Society for the eloquent and appropriate address delivered
by him on the 29th instant, and to request that he will furnish
a copy of the same for publication.

RICHARD S. FIELD, Esq.

WM. C. ALEXANDER, Esq. ^ Committee.

JOHN T. NIXON.

Extract from the Minutes^jof the Cliosophic Society
at the Annual Meeting, Sept. 30, 1840.

Resolved, That the thanks of the Cliosophic Society be
presented to the Rev. Dr. John Johns, of Baltimore, for the
eloquent address delivered by him, on the 29th instant, before
the American Whig and Cliosophic Societies, and that a Com-
mittee be appointed to request him to furnish a copy thereof
for publication.

Prof. JOHN MACLEAN,

Prof. A. B. DOD, ^Committee.

D. N. BOGART, Esq.

ADDRESS.

Perhaps there are few scenes more deeply and
vividly impressed on the mind and heart than those
which are connected with a college course. In all the
preparatory stages of education, this period is fondly
anticipated as a season of interesting and distinguished
advancement ; as a transition from the humbler and
more puerile occupations of the academy, to the
higher pursuits and more dignified intercourse of the
student's life ; as a release from the leading strings,
and a cessation of the supervision required by early
youth and entire inexperience, and as the commence-
ment of personal responsibility and greater indepen-
dence. It is not surprising, therefore, that it should
be anticipated with ardent aspirations, and entered
upon with no small degree of self-complacency. It
marks the close of one, and the beginning of another
and a very important stage of life. And whilst it
lasts, there is a susceptibility and readiness to impres-
sion on the part of those who pass it ; a novelty and
manliness in the intercourse maintained, and an excite-
ment connected with the duties prescribed, which en-
sure to the occurrences of this spring-time of life, a
place and a permanency of possession in the heart, not
easily disputed by the events of later years ; and after

this season has closed, and those who passed it in com-
pany have separated and engaged in the services of their
respective professions, there is no period to which they
revert with livelier pleasure ; there are no incidents
which they relate with more zest and hilarity, than
those which marked the college course. Meet where
they may, in after life, the recollection of their early as-
sociation forms a bond of sympathy which few fail to
feel, and to feel with peculiar satisfaction, whilst the
remembered facts and forms and friendships furnish
materials for conversation, in which they seem to an-
nihilate the interval which separates them from those
scenes, and which almost enables them to renew their
youth. The college roll comes to mind, and is run
over in friendly inquisitiveness, with as much ease
and accuracy as if they had not ceased to answer to its
regular calls. The entries which they had often
walked are traversed in their order, and the rooms are
named by number, and their occupants are talked of
with a familiarity which would seem to imply that
the speakers and their companions still lived there.
All these things, and a thousand other similar illustra-
tions which will readily occur to every true-hearted
alumnus, discover the depth and the durability of the
impressions produced by a college course, and prove
that their obliteration is very tardy, if not impossible.
In conversing occasionally with those who had long
since graduated, I have been amused to hear them
say that even their very dreams have continued to
borrow from the scenes and incidents to which I allude,
renewing for them the fellowships and the interests,
the embarrassments and the successes of a student's

life, perpetuating- by the spontaneous action of the
mind, during the hours of repose, thoughts and feelings
which the pressure of daily duties seemed to have
smothered and destroyed. A diploma may become
illegible — its broad seal may crumble into indistinct-
ness, but a college feeling truly imbibed is indestruct-
ible. I verily believe that could the class with which
the speaker graduated be assembled on this ground,
we should still almost fancy ourselves the proprietors
of those rooms, and regard you, my young friends, as
intruders.

Were I to consult my own inclinations on the
present occasion, they would determine me to dwell
upon the pleasing recollections of the few years which
it was my privilege to spend in these halls of science
— to bear my testimony to the worth of those excellent
men who presided over our pursuits, and to sketch
the subsequent history of some of those companions
with whom I had the happiness to be here associated.
But as such reminiscences would scarcely meet your
views, in the exercise which you have assigned me,
I proceed to submit for your consideration a subject of
more general interest: — The attractiveness of

TRUTH, AND THE PLEASURE AFFORDED BY ITS PURSUIT
AND ATTAINMENT, AS INCENTIVES TO INTELLECTUAL
ACTION.

Between truth and the human mind there is cer-
tainly a real and very important affinity. Bring them
fairly within range, and it requires some strong dis-
turbing force to prevent their union. This union
once consummated, and the experience which it pro-
duces will awaken an intellectual appetite, which,

8

unless it becomes diseased and perverted, will con-
tinue to crave the enjoyment which the pursuit and
attainment of truth afford. If this were not the case,
it would be an anomaly in man, out of keeping entirely
with every thing else pertaining to ourselves of which
we are conscious. When we analyze the human con-
stitution as far as our investigation reaches, we find
every power and every faculty affording enjoyment by
its suitable exercise in reference to its appropriate
objects. It would therefore be strange indeed, if truth,
the peculiar object of the nobler part of man, possess-
ed no attraction for the mind ; or even if its power,
when the mind is in a healthy state, were not para-
mount. I know that in the absence of those circum-
stances which are requisite to rouse the desire of which
I speak, it may remain dormant. I know that other
propensities, early and inordinately indulged, may pre-
vent its excitement, or leave it to a feebleness of action
in which its existence is scarcely felt ; and that from
the same causes it may be so vitiated that its design,
as an element of our nature, will be defeated. But the
susceptibility is there : and by proper and timely ar-
rangement and cultivation, it can be brought into ac-
tion; and when thus rightly and duly exercised, it
will attain a strength and yield an enjoyment which
will make it a master passion of the man.

The engaging and engrossing character of such ex-
ercises, even when they are associated with, and in
some measure dependant on the functions of our ani-
mal nature, cannot have escaped your notice. The
truth of harmony in sounds possesses a most captiva-
ting power over the soul which has been roused by

their influence. Idle and irksome as some would re-
gard the employment of the musical amateur, it affords
him a most delightful excitement, and ministers to
him a luxury most absorbing. It is not the manual
dexterity which he acquires in execution, or the admi-
ration which the display of his skill secures, that en-
gage and reward him, but the genuine sympathy of his
soul with the truths of the science which he cultivates.
In the perception, developement and application of
these, there is an enjoyment which passes expression.
His earnestness, his re very, his changing countenance,
his, at times, suspended respiration, show the reality
and intensity of the influence of harmony over his
spirit, the power which the passion possesses, the de-
light which its indulgence imparts.

We find a similar instance in the case of the artist,
to whose peculiar pleasures the eye has become the in-
dustrious and animated instrument ; who has been
brought under the influence of the attractions of sym-
metry and colours in their various forms and combina-
tions. To those who are strangers to his passion, his
quiet position with palette in hand, and a few feet of
canvass on the easel before him, would scarcely be
less intolerable than the forced steppings of a tread-
mill ; and yet the painter's studio is his earthly para-
dise. The visions of his imagination, as they come
and go in succession, courting the creative action of
his pencil, realize to him a vivid variety of scenery
which no ordinary travel could furnish, and a choice
companionship which the circles of common life could
not afford. And when in a time of happy musing, the
truth of nature, in some of her captivating forms and

10

shadowings, is fairly caught and faithfully transferred
to the canvass, the successful sketch reflects a pleasure
which no sensual indulgence could yield. It is not
the applause which his production may obtain, or the
price which it may command, that form his remunera-
tion for the time and attention he has bestowed. He
has had his enjoyment, in part, in the free excursions
of his fancy in pursuit of the truth of nature ; and in
contemplating her as caught and detained in the sim-
ple frame which his art has animated with her pre-
sence, his delight is prolonged.

The precocity which this taste sometimes exhibits,
and the lively pleasure which its indulgence imparts,
are strikingly illustrated by the simple incidents in the
early life of Sir Benjamin West. The attractions of
this art, we are informed, won him when he had
scarcely completed his sixth year ; won him, not by the
influence of example, for he had never heard of a paint-
er or even seen a picture. It was the response of his
own sympathies to this peculiar aspect of the truths of
nature, and that under circumstances which furnished
not the slightest facility for their developement. His
instruments and materials for gratifying the desire
which stirred within him, were inappropriate and mea-
ger indeed. Pen and ink were all he possessed, till
some Indians who chanced to see his sketches instruct-
ed him in the use of the red and yellow ochres, which
they were accustomed to employ, and his own inge-
nuity constructed a brush from the hair which he
plundered from a domestic animal. A friend on a vis-
it to the family was so much pleased with his rude
paintings that he promised to send him the means of

11

indulging his taste ; the promised present soon arrived
and was eagerly examined. It comprised the usual
assortment of colours, oils and brushes, accompanied
by prepared canvass and a few engravings. His bio-
grapher relates that during the remainder of the day the
young artist scarcely removed his eyes from his box
and its contents. Sometimes he almost doubted his
being master of so precious a treasure, and would take
it up, merely to assure himself that it was real. Du-
ring the night he woke more than once, and anxiously
reached out his little hands to feel for the box which he
had placed by his bed-side, half afraid that it was all a
dream. Early dawn found him with his treasures in
the garret, diligently at work. Every thing was now
abandoned for the indulgence of his favourite pursuit.
A truant from school, a recluse from, his family, he lit-
erally lived in the uncomfortable story to which he
had stolen away, and there luxuriated in a world of his
own. At last his teacher called to enquire for the ab-
sentee, and this visit led to the discovery of his secret
occupation. His mother sought him out in the place
of his concealment, but so much was she delighted by
the creation of his pencil which met her view on en-
tering the apartment, that instead of a reprimand, she
could only take him in her arms and embrace him
with transports of affection. So early, so intense, so
delightfully engrossing was this passion in the bosom
of young West. We need not be surprised to find
that under its governance, the Chester County child
became the President of the Royal Academy, and the
Quaker boy won his way to the rank of English
knighthood.

12

Let it not for a moment be supposed that those
forms and relations of truth which address themselves
peculiarly to the understanding, have less power to
rouse and gratify this passion of the soul. The Ar-
cana of the natural world in its organization and pro-
cesses, the propositions of the abstract sciences in their
endless variety, appeal to the inquisitiveness of the
mind with as much power, afford as much pleasurable
excitement in pursuit, and certainly yield fuller and
more elevated satisfaction in success. The familiar
illustrations of this statement will readily occur to you.
When the philosopher of Syracuse was requested by
his learned friend and patron to devise some method
for detecting the adulteration which he suspected in
the precious metal which had been entrusted to an
artisan to form into a crown, so completely did the
problem take possession of the philosopher's mind, that
it occupied his thoughts even during the moments of
most pleasurable recreation. As he lay with relaxed
frame, laving his limbs in a delicious bath, his mind
was eagerly intent on the grateful pursuit. And when
the water displaced by his body suggested the solution,
the luxury of the bath was lost in the delight of the
discovery. No voluptuary, in his highest revels, ever
realized such pleasure as then thrilled his soul. No
burst of Bacchanalian glee could compare with his
enraptured Eu^xa! Eu^xa!

When the distinguished sage of Samos completed
his demonstration of the equality of the square of the
hypotenuse and the sum of the squares of the other
sides of a right angled triangle, there were no bounds
to his joy. No explorer for hid treasures ever opened

13

a mine with the ecstacy he felt. A Hecatomb could
not adequately express his gratitude and exultation.

The experience of the great Newton, in connexion
with his discovery of the secret mechanism of the
heavens, will not be forgotten. The law of gravita-
tion was indeed understood before his day, but the ex-
tent of its application no one had imagined. The
simple incident which, in the musings of his philoso-
phical mind, started the train of thought which led to
his sublime hypothesis, is known to every one. His
was not a mind to rest in hypothesis. He immediately
proceeded to subject his views to the test of careful
calculation in reference to the nearest heavenly body.
The result approximated what truth required, and the
little discrepancy might have been explained away.
But with the ingenuousness of a true philosopher, he
abandoned his hypothesis as inadmissible, and sub-
mitted to the disappointment. I need not remind
you that the discrepancy was occasioned by the as-
sumption that the earth's then admitted magnitude
was correct. This false assumption vitiated his cal-
culation and delayed his success. A few years af-
terwards, when the dimensions of the earth were ac-
curately ascertained, he renewed the trial, and found
the result in perfect accordance with his former ex-
pectations. We are told that such was his agitation,
as he proceeded and perceived every figure bringing
him nearer to the object of his hopes, that he was at
last actually incapable of continuing the operation, and
was obliged to request a friend to conclude it for him.
The excitement of pursuit was too intense for endur-
ance, the ecstaoy of success must have been unspeak-

14

able. To mention in this connexion the pleasures of
sense, or those which arise from mere pride or ambi-
tion, would be signal injustice to the jo}^ of which we
speak. No sensualist, no milienarian, no hero reeking
with the blood of his vanquished foes and bending un-
der the trophies of victory, felt as Newton did, when
approaching the veil which the imperfection of hu-
man knowledge left over the great works of nature, and
lifting its folds, he looked in upon the magnificent
mechanism of God's glorious universe.

Our own Franklin too, with a devotion to science
which the varied and pressing engagements of public
life could not extinguish, continued to indulge himself
in his favourite pursuit, and enjoyed the excitement
of investigation and the satisfaction of success. When
he conceived the idea of the identity of electricity and
the material of lightning, his mind started on an in-
quiry delightfully animating in its progress, and most
gratifying in the issue. When his own ingenuity had
devised the simple expedient which was to form the
test of his conjecture, when he stood out upon the com-
mon with his kite floating in the air, and his eye
anxiously traversing the line which detained it, and
by which the truth or falsity of his views was to be
determined, he must have realized the liveliest plea-
sure of intellectual excitement, and when the bristling
strands gave proof of the success of his experiment,
the brilliant truth which he had discovered must have
electrified his spirit with delight. A conqueror of
kingdoms would make a gainful barter, could he traf-
fic all his triumphs for the victory which signalized
that moment, a victory not over worms of the dust, but

15

over the wildest element of the skies, achieved not
by might or multitude, but by the simple appliance of
a childish toy in the hand of a philosopher.

I am perfectly aware that the instances to which we
have adverted involve the peculiar zest which is im-
parted by the consciousness of being an original
discoverer. But then it has been properly remarked
that to the uninstructed all the truths of science are
yet virtually undiscovered truths, and unfold them-
selves to every successive explorer with as much
freshness and force as they exhibited to the first
adventurer. The eyes of Columbus and his crew
robbed the western world of none of the beauty of
its bays, or grandeur of its forests and mountains.
The same scenery, in all its attraction of novelty and
sublimity, still courts the attention and repays the toil
of the modern tourist. The early Indian, whose ear
was first stunned by the noise, and whose eye first
gazed in wonder on the foaming waters of the great
cataract of the north, exhausted none of its impres-
siveness. It still commands its annual and increasing
crowd of strangers, as impressed and delighted as if
no others had ever trodden its wild and awful preci-
pice, and trembled at the roar of its mighty waters.
Thus the pioneer in any particular region of science
cannot so appropriate its beauties and its fruits as to
leave it plundered, profitless, and uninviting. It
preserves its novelty and exuberance for each ardent
adventurer, as if none had before viewed its richness
or dwelt amidst its delights. Other pleasures there
are, which do become antiquated and obsolete — which
are adulterated and exhausted by participation ; and

16

hence their comparative worthlessness. But truth
parts with none of its power by age, and knowledge
loses none of its attractiveness by distribution. No
one who has ever experienced their spell, will com-
plain that his enjoyment is curtailed by those who
may have preceded him, or admit that by long fami-
liarity they have ceased to charm. When they once
truly please, they captivate for life, and he who has
been won cordially to enter their enclosures will covet
to spend and be spent in their fascinating service.

Nor let it be supposed that this appetite for truth,
this thirst for knowledge, is a feeble and inefficient
passion. Judge it my young friends as you estimate
the force of other feelings, by its indisputable effects,
and it must be pronounced a paramount power of the
soul. In innumerable instances it has proved itself
capable of coping successfully with opposition and
embarrassments, against which, prior to experience,
we should have considered it vain to contend. It has
been found to live and flourish amidst difficulties and
discouragements by which the strongest propensities
of our nature have been subdued. It has kindled in
the lowliest and most obscure conditions of society,
and burned unquenchably in despite of the extinguish-
ing influence of worldly penury. It has fired the bo-
som of the slave, and sundering his ignoble bonds, raised
him to the most honourable ranks of philosophy. It
has lifted its subjects from the loom, the last, and the
anvil, to the most distinguished seats of literature and
science. Epictetus, we are told, passed many years in
cruel servitude, and when his freedom was obtained,
he pursued his studies in a comfortless cabin without

17

a door ; with no furniture but a small table, a narrow
bedstead, and a paltry coverlet. Cleanthes indulged
his favourite passion whilst he maintained himself as a
common porter. The oboli with which he paid his
preceptor's fee were earned by the most menial em-
ployments. I draw water, said he, and do any other
sort of work that offers, that I may give myself up to
philosophy without being a burden to any one. Eras-
mus, when a student at Paris, was almost in rags ; but
it was not his tattered garments that distressed him,
he was most sensible to his want of the means for
literary gratification. When I get money, said he, I
will buy first Greek books, and then clothes — and
many is the student who has cheerfully acquiesced in
the scantiest raiment and the coarsest fare, for the
privilege of indulging his love of learning.

You will readily recollect cases in which this
passion has discovered a most amazing and ingenious
force in surmounting the disadvantage of physical
defects which seemed to forbid its indulgence. If we
were required to name a bereavement which would
seem to close the avenues of knowledge, and imprison
the mind, we should, perhaps, specify the affliction of
blindness. And yet, not only have persons, deprived
of vision from their childhood, managed to make
respectable attainments in learning, some have risen to
such eminence in literature and science as to become
distinguished teachers. The well known case of
Sanderson is in point. In his sixth year, we are in-
formed, he was visited with a disease which not only
destroyed his sight, but extirpated the organ. Yet at
the free school in his vicinity, he contrived, it is hard

18

to conceive how, to familiarize himself with the lan-
guages. From the friends by whom he was surroun-
ded he quickly gained all the instruction they could
impart in the elements of arithmetic and geometry.
His avidity was not satisfied, but only stimulated by
these attainments. Employing others to read for him,
he made himself master of the Greek mathematicians.
His eminent success is fully attested by the fact of his
appointment to the professorship at Cambridge, which
had been filled by Sir Isaac Newton, and also by the
learned works which he has left on different branch-
es of the exact sciences. This passion of his soul
produced an ingenuity and thrift — an industry and
perseverance in catering for its indulgence, which
seemed almost supernatural, and brought into subser-
viency to its purposes extraordinary ways and means,
which appeared more than compensation for the
appalling loss of vision.

In view of these imperfect statements, then, we may
conclude, that the appetite, the play of which is so
pleasant as to determine one to seek its gratification at
the expense of the other strong propensities of our
nature — which, when once fairly excited, triumphs
over the hinder ances occasioned by lowliness of birth
and extremity of penury — aye, even over physical
defects and infirmities, training the powers and facul-
ties which remain, to unusual and almost incredible
instrumentality in supplying the place of those which
are lacking, must be a master feeling of the man. And
although in every individual it is not productive of the
same amount of pleasure, or capable of the same
measure of force, yet secure in any one the develope-

19

merit of which it is susceptible, and you secure it
a dominion which God and nature designed it to have.
If these things are so, then we discover, as I con-
ceive, the great business of the responsible process of
education. This susceptibility of the intellectual na-
ture is to be reached and roused ; this appetite is to be
awakened, stimulated, nourished and rightly guided.
To this, the appeal is to be made early and directly.
By the presentation and contact of appropriate truth
the mind is to be put in action, and so made conscious
of the satisfaction which such action and its effects
produce. Here is the beginning. Till this is ac-
complished, nothing is done. All else is little better
than the workings of an automaton, or the spasmodic
motion of galvanic experiment. The life of education
is latent till the genuine love of learning is evolved.
I say, therefore, the appeal for this purpose should be
made early. If parents, instead of pampering the
fleshly appetites of their offspring, and habituating
them to seek their pleasure in ministering to their
animal propensities — as if the intellectual principle
were not imparted in childhood, but implanted only
when the abundant and rife growth of carnal desires
must dwarf and deform it — if they would faithfully
address themselves to this principle in the first hours
of its susceptibility, and present to it the grateful in-
centive of simple truth, and so acquaint it with its
resources of pleasure, in its own proper action and
acquirements, we might expect that what is now
regarded as rare precocity, would become ordinary
developement ; and, instead of the inferior appetites so
almost invariably getting the ascendency, we might

20

hope to find them kept in becoming subordination by
a noble love of knowledge, and zest for truth; but
then the labour of exploring for this vital part, of
studying out and selecting and applying the ma-
terial by which this appetite is to be provoked — yes —
here is the difficulty. To coax or scourge the child, to
dose and burden the mind with, to it, unmeaning and
worse than useless phrases, is so much easier and
more rapid than to condescend to the weakness of its
faculties and ascertain and furnish just what they can
appropriate and enjoy, that in most instances the bribe
or the rod is preferred. The child is tasked, an
odious word in this connexion, that the parent may
be spared ; the pursuit of knowledge is associated with
pains and penalties, and regarded as an irksome em-
ployment to which nothing can reconcile one but the
hope of escaping punishment, or the prospect of getting
gain.

And is it surprising that when youth, thus misguided
and prejudiced, are transferred to other instructors for
advancement, it should be found almost necessary to
maintain, in some degree, the mischievous features of
this unnatural system? That instead of the honour-
able relation as helpers of their pupils' joy, they should
be constrained to serve as police officers to detect and
remedy habits of irregularity formed and fostered at
home ? That instead of the pleasing occupation of
training the healthful mind in its boundings, from
strength to strength, from one degree of knowledge to
another, gladdened by conscious growth and rejoicing
in increasing acquirements, they should be compelled
to drive by the dread of public disgrace, or tempt by

♦21

the influence of rivalry, or lure by the prospect of
some pitiful outward distinction, thus stirring up to
greater force the lower and degrading passions, minis-
tering nourishment to pride, envy and ambition ? And
what is the legitimate result of this whole miserable
process? It may occasion genuine scholarship. In
the midst and in despite of it all, intellectual regenera-
tion may occur. The pure appetite for knowledge, on
its own account, may spring up, we know not how or
why, and work out its proper effects. But the natural
tendency of this process is to produce a morbid mental
action, not a genuine love of truth ; an action which
will remit when the extraneous stimulants are removed,
or court their continuance under new forms on emer-
ging into the world, making its subjects, not sincere
seekers for science, but wranglers for distinction, not
candid, frank, generous citizens, but bigoted and bitter
partizans, reckless combatants for political ascendency
and personal aggrandizement ; not calm, though firm
supporters of right, but selfish intriguers for rule,
knowing no patriotism but such as secures their per-
sonal pre-eminence, no public spirit but such as pro-
motes their private interest. Would that this were all
fancy ! but it is not so ; it is a melancholy fact, such a
generation abounds throughout our land, and meet them
where you may, in civil or ecclesiastical connexion, they
are the country's curse. If the crying and increasing
corruption, the loud complaints of which come up in
all directions, is to be checked and corrected, we must
have men of a different spirit to do the work, and to
have them they must first receive a different training.
Instead of being incited to mental action by an ap-

22

peal to the sensual, sordid, selfish principles of our
nature, they must be taught to feel the excellency
and power of truth, and rendered sensible of the real
pleasure which results from its pursuit and attainment.
Instead of coveting it for the worldly wealth which
it may qualify one to gain, it must be coveted as itself
the treasure. Instead of being desired for the distinc-
tion which it mav secure, it must be desired for its own
lustre and the illumination which its presence produces.
Its pursuit, instead of being submitted to as a tedious
toil, to be remunerated by acquiring the command of
means of gratification in other ways, must be regarded
as itself a present positive pleasure. This may be,
this should be, and I trust this will become more than
ever the spirit of our literary institutions. Its preva-
lence would do more to maintain the necessary order
and propriety contemplated by college laws, than all
the pledges which inconsiderate youths could utter,
or all the surveillance which the most vigilant faculty
could exercise. For decency by restraint, there would
be decorum of free will ; for labour from irksome dis-
cipline, there would be diligence from delight. And
what a transformation would thus be effected, so far
as the student is concerned, in the usages and habits
of a college course ! One of this spirit, would never
regard the recurrence of study hours as an interrup-
tion, but greet them as a renewal of his gratification.
He would not consider his room as a place of durance,
he would seek it as the scene of his richest delight.
And his experience then, during the moments of most
intense application, would authorize him to adopt the
seeming paradox, " Labor ipse voluptas." In his as-

23

sociation with others in the same pursuits, he would
proportionably escape the disturbing and painful stir-
rings of envy and mortified pride. The satisfaction
which his own proficiency would afford, would be
augmented by the progress of his companions in study,
and the generous sympathy thus generated would
form an alliance which no future separation would
break, nor advancing years impair. In withdrawing
from these halls of science, he would not present the
pitiable spectacle too often witnessed, of collapsed fac-
ulties, mental torpor, total abandonment of intellectual
pursuits, the consequence of unnatural excitement by
inappropriate means. The healthful appetite and salu-
tary habits here cherished would be perpetuated.
Even if his secular avocations should be of a nature not
absolutely requiring the continued pursuit of literature
and science, they would be resorted to for recreation ;
and whilst they yielded him a pleasure which would
preserve him from the vitiating amusements of the
world, they would shed a refinement over his ordinary
business, and give to his character that elevation and
attractiveness which are so lovelv in the intercourse of
life. A mind thus imbued and thus trained is its own
treasure. Those vicissitudes by which others are be-
reft in a moment of the portions which they prize, can-
not effect its resources — they are inalienable, indefeisi-
ble. No circumstances in which he may be placed,
can deprive him of their use and enjoyment. Alone
or in society — at home or abroad — in health or in sick-
ness— in a palace, a cottage, or a dungeon, his sources
of enjoyment are at command. Unjust power may
plunder one of his outward possessions. Calumny may

24

rob him of his reputation. The fickleness of popular
feeling may displace him from the station of honour
which he had attained. But his mind in its capaci-
ties and acquirements is beyond and above these influ-
ences. They are emphatically and independently his
own.

Such are the men we want in these times of wild
speculation, pernicious excitement, and unprincipled
dissension. We need men who have learned to love
the truth with an affection which will determine them
to follow it through evil as well as good report, and to
stand by it at every hazard. Who will neither desert,
deny, nor obscure it for friend or foe. Who will ap-
preciate, pursue and countenance sound learning and
genuine science — men whose minds have become well
balanced by their solid acquirements, and whose hearts
have been liberalized by the generous influence of use-
ful learning. These are the men we need to aid in
resisting the intellectual licentiousness, the phrenzied
fanaticism, the rank intolerance, and the exclusive sel-
fish partizanship which are withering and weakening
us as a people. To our seminaries we look, anxiously
and prayerfully look, for the supply, and just as they
succeed in bringing the youthful mind under the in-
fluence of wholesome truth, and wakening and feed-
ing its healthful desires, accustoming it to feel the
delight of pursuing and possessing its appropriate trea-
sures, will our public institutions furnish what the
best friends of our country crave and justly claim.

In speaking of truth and science and knowledge, you
will not misunderstand me. No one will for a mo-
ment suppose that the views of the speaker are restric-

25

ted to mere secular learning. This would indeed be
to surrender the precious principles on which our
venerated college was founded, on which chiefly
its patrons rely for its prosperity and usefulness,
and, apart from which, its influence might as well
make us tremble, as hope. Mere secular learning
is of doubtful utility. The history of the world shows
its equivocal nature. It may prove a blessing — it
may become a curse. It is truth — but it is imperfect,
partial truth ; and to prevent its perversion, the com-
plement which revelation affords is demanded ; and
worthy of all honour is the institution which, in its
system of training, openly and avowedly employs this
—studiously uses the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth.

It is in this view of our Alma Mater, that I find her
peculiar and commanding claims to my unfeigned
confidence and affection. I love to think of her in this,
her true posture and employment. Displaying in one
hand the scrolls of sound science, in the other spirit-
edly poising high the record of inspiration. I love to
think of her, tracing with distinctness the interesting
processes of the natural world, and pointing with
clearness and skill to every star in the firmament, but
carefully showing all in connection with the great Sun
of Righteousness — the one grand centre and source of
all influence — of light, life and glory.

So- long as this is done, her sons can through no

delinquency on her part fail to answer the expectations

of kindred and country, or come short of the great end

of education. Some, it may be, may not long survive

to adorn and bless the land of their birth. Blasted in

4

26

the freshness of their bloom, parental anguish may soon
pour its bitter tears over their early grave, and nothing
remain of them on earth, but the sad recollection of
the rich promise they here gave, and the solemn tomb
under which they sleep. The asterisked columns of
our Catalogue affectingly remind us that genius and
worth furnish no immunity from the assaults of dis-
ease, or the stroke of death; that the physical deli-
cacy and intellectual sensitiveness which form the
usual accompaniments of extraordinary developements
of youthful excellence, are the causes of permanent
decay, and often serve but to brighten the mark, and
invite and direct the earlier aim of the destroyer.
If it were not so, many whose sun has gone down
before noon, would be still shining in their strength,
and shedding their salutary influence over the spheres
which have been darkened by their disappearance.

Sorrowful as the contemplation of such instances
may render us, yet we find solace in the assurance
that if the principles and spirit for which this college
was established are truly imbibed, such early release
is but early rest ; the gloom is for survivors, the glory
is theirs ; and at each anniversary their requiem may
be chaunted, not in strains of sorrow, but in tones of
triumph.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

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