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BY HIS SONS, ^ ^/ " 





,..A- P 

Entered, according^ to Act of Congress, in the year 1807, by 

Francis "Wayland, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 
for the District of Connecticut. 

Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
No. i Spring Lane. 


Is Respectfully Dedicated 










In the preparation of this memoir we have been greatly 
aided by those whose reminiscences form an interesting 
feature of the work ; by those who have kindly placed 
letters at our disposal ; and by those whose contributions, 
although not appearing in the words of their authors, 
contained valuable information, of which we have gladly 
availed ourselves. 

For this assistance, always most cheerfully rendered, 
and for innumerable manifestations of sympathy and 
friendliness, we return our grateful acknowledgments. 

September 25, 1S67. 


F. W. 
H. L. W. 




Parentage. — Boyhood. — Schools. — College Course. . . . ii 


Medical Studies. — Intellectual Regeneration and Growth. — 
Conversion. — Change of Profession - • • • • 37 


Andover. — Moses Stuart. — Mental and spiritual Growth. — 
Correspondence • 60 


Union College. — Dr. Nott. — Dr. Yates. — Religious Awa- 
kening. — Asahel Nettleton. — Anxiety 85 


The First Baptist Church in Boston. — Call. — Ordination. — 
Prospect. — Discouragements. — Discouragements over- 
come. — Correspondence ^^4 



Dr. Baldwin. — Dr. Sharp. — Deacon Snow. — Deacon Lor- 
ing. — Mr. Winslow. — Correspondence. — His mental 
Habits. — Character of his Preaching 143 


Baptist Magazine. — Moral Dignity of the Missionary Enter- 
prise. — Duties of an American Citizen. — Various public 
Labors. — Baptist Triennial Convention 158 


Spirit of his Ministry. — His Life, inward and outward. — His 
Marriage. — Embarrassments. — Close of his Pastorate. . 181 


Brown University. — The new Administration. — Principles 
of Action. — Changes instituted. — Obstacles encountered 
and overcome. — Traits of Character exhibited 204 


Reminiscences of Graduates. — The first Commencement. — 
Reports of the Faculty to the Corporation. — Dr. Wayland's 
Review of his Methods of Instruction. — Address of Hon. 
B. F. Thomas. — Dr. Wayland's Lecture-room a Prepara- 
tion for legal Studies. — His Interest in Jurisprudence. . . 220 


The Lecture-room. — Dr. Bailey's Reminiscences. — Illustra- 
tions. — Dr. Wayland's Characteristics as a Teacher. — His 
ruling Principle 245 



Feeling of personal Responsibility. — Views of Discipline. — 
Eespect and Affection of Pupils, — Religious Conversa- 
tions. — College Chapel. — Sermons to Undergraduates. . 259 


Bible Class. — Religious Intercourse with Pupils reviewed. — 
Relations to Faculty. — Tendency of his Teachings. . . 2S9 


The " Library Fund." — Manning Hall. — The Common 
Schools of Providence. — The American Institute of In- 
struction. — The Providence Athenseum. — The Smithso- 
nian Institution 316 


Public Labors. — Tract and School Society, Rhode Island. — 
Children's Friend Society. — Rhode Island Bible Society. — 
American Bible Society. — Providence Dispensary. — First 
Baptist Church. — Rev. Dr. Pattison. — Missionary Con- 
certs. — Ladies' Bible Class. — Murray Street Discourse. — 
Address before the Sunday School Union. — Dudleian Lec- 
tures. — The Philosophy of Analogy. — Discourse on Tem- 
perance. — Ordination Sermons. — Designation of Mission- 
aries. — Phi Beta Kappa Address at Harvard University. — 
Moral Law of Accumulation. — Agricultural Address. . . 333 


Habits of Study and Exercise. — Home Life. — Death of 
Mrs. Wayland. — Her religious Character. — Letters to his 
Parents. — His Devotion to his Children. — Death of his 
Mother 354 



" Elements of Moral Science." — Its Reception. — Transla- 
tions. — "Elements of Political Economy. " — " Limitation 
of Human Responsibility." — Second Marriage. — Rhode 
Island Hall and the President's House 379 


His Home. — His social Life. — Conversational Powers. — 
Varied Information. — Kindness of Heart. — Partisan Vio- 
lence deprecated. — West Point. — Political Forecast. — 
Public Holidays. — Family Affliction. — Conscientious Ex- 
penditure. — Letters to the Young. — Miscellaneous Cor- 
respondence 394 







IT is proposed, in the following pages, to present the 
character and the labors of Francis Wayland ; to 
exhibit what he was and what he did. It will not prob- 
ably be thought that his labors are underrated, if the 
opinion is expressed that the man was greater than all his 
works ; that the noblest thing which he made was him- 
self. The inquiry into the influences which formed him 
must, therefore, greatly occupy our attention. Prominent 
among these influences was the character of his parents 
and of his early home. These it will be proper to delin- 
eate somewhat minutely. 

In 1S49, shortly after the death of his father. Dr. Way- 
land, at the request of his sisters, wrote his recollections 
of his parents and his estimate of their character. These 
memorials, prepared solely for the family, and with no 
expectation of any wider publicity, will form our de- 
pendence for whatever will be introduced relative to 
this topic. If apology is needed for the fulness of detail 
in which he at times indulges, it will be found in the 



circumstances which gave rise to the papers. Thev are 
not the words of one forcing upon the pubhc, narrations 
in which they have no interest, but of a son and brother 
reminding his bereaved sisters of the virtues of his and 
their sainted parents. 

Francis Wayland was the son of Francis Wayland 
and of Sarah Moore Wayland.* Of his more remote 
ancestors it is perhaps sufficient to say that they were 
persons in the middle station of life, of Baptist senti- 
ments, and, for the most part, of more than usual piety. 
While they had no immediate agency in forming his 
character, we are warranted in believing that their piety 
and their prayers were among the influences which se- 
cured for him the blessings promised to the children's 
children of the riglitcous. 

" My father and mother, shortly after their marriage, 
emigrated to the new world, and on the 20th of Septem- 
ber, 1793? arrived in New York, where he immediately 
commenced business as a currier. 

" Previous to the revolution, leather and manufactures 
of all kinds had been, to a great extent, imported from the 
mother country. The change in our political relations 
opened a wide field for enterprise to artisans in every 
department of labor. Men thoroughly acquainted with 
the mechanic arts were rare, and the demand for their 
products was vast and urgent. My father was perfectly 
master of his business, and his little capital gave him 
advantages of great importance in that condition of the 

* Francis Wayland (son of Daniel Wayland and Susannah 
Pritchard), born at Frome, Somersetshire, England, June 15, 1772, 
died at Saratoga Springs, New York, April 9, 1849; Sarah 
Moore (daughter of John Moore and Elizabeth Thompson), born 
at Norwich, England, August 16, 1770, died at Saratoga Springs, 
December 5, 1S36. Married at Norwich, May 20, 1793. The follow- 
ing children grew to adult age, and survived the parents : Francis ; 
Susannah P. (married William L. Stone, of New York), died 1852 ; 
Sarah T. (married Thomas P. Gushing, of Boston) ; Daniel, died 
1S61 ; John, died 1863; Anne E. 


country. He was also emphatically ' diligent in busi- 
ness,' rising early, always at his work, and remarkably 
equitable in his dealings. My mother united with him 
in every eflbrt necessary to insure success, and they soon 
became prosperous to such an extent as satisfied their 

Both Mr. Wayland and his wife had been members 
of the Baptist church in Eagle Street, London. After 
reaching New York, they united with what was then the 
Fayette Street Church (afterwards the Oliver Street, and 
now the ISIadison Avenue Church), then destitute of a 
pastor, but subsequently under the charge of Rev. John 
Williams, whose ardent piety and eminent ability they 
ever held in reverent and affectionate remembrance. Of 
this church Mr. Wayland was early chosen a deacon, in 
company with John Caldwell (the father-in-law of the 
late Rev. Dr. Sharp), John Withington, and William 

" The other deacons of the church were, like my father, 
engaged in active business. At special seasons they 
visited each other's houses. Their associations, and those 
of their families, were almost exclusively religious. The 
only guests I remember to have seen at my father's house 
were deacons, ministers, and persons eminent for piety. 
Their conversation was almost entirely on questions of 
doctrinal or experimental religion. As I look back upon 
these events (with the recollection, it is true, of boy- 
hood), my father's associates seem to me to have been 
far better acquainted with the Scriptures and with the doc- 
trines of the gospel, and more thoroughly religious, than 
we commonly find professing Christians at the present 
day. Fuller, Gill, Booth, Romaine, Hervey, Toplady, 
and Newton were much more frequently quoted by them 
than such writers are by Christians among us. My 
father's peculiar treasure was a copy of Cann's Bible, 
with marginal references. This he unceasingly studied, 
and never relinquished it, until it was actually worn out 
by daily and almost constant use. 

"With these religious discussions, one other topic — that 
of politics — was sometimes intermingled. My father had 


felt the oppressions to which dissenters had been exposed 
in England, and espoused what was considered the ' pop- 
ular cause ' in this country with considerable earnestness. 
At particular times, I recollect to have heard joyful hopes 
or fearful forebodings, as one or the other party seemed 
likely to be in the ascendant. The particular point to 
which their apprehensions turned was the connection of 
politics with religion. There was, at this time, if I am 
not mistaken, a belief that one party, the ' Republican,' 
was more favorable than the other, the ' Federalist,' to 
unrestricted freedom in matters of religious opinion.* 
With the former party, of course, all the Baptists from the 
older country sympathized. In the church to which my 
father belonged, I have frequently heard it mentioned 
that there was but one member who was not a Republi- 
can ; and the wonder among his brethren was, how so 
good a man could, in so important a matter, err so griev- 

" The arrangements of my father's family were all made 
subordinate to his religious principles. Morning and 
evening devotions were as regular as the return of the 
hours appropriated to those services. So conscientious 
was he in this respect, that once, while he was engaged 
in teaching, at a later period of his life, my brother recol- 
lects that he called the scholars together at about eleven 
o'clock, and requested them to keep their seats while 
he should be absent for a few minutes. He then took 
my brother home with him, assembled his family to- 
gether, apologized to them for his sin in forgetting morn- 
ing prayers, read the Scriptures, and prayed, and then 

- , 

* The student of those times will recall the fact that the Fed- 
eralists favored the continuance of a " standing order," and were 
of opinion that the interests of religion required that provision 
should be made by law for the maintenance of worship according 
to the established usage. The opposing party, in some instances, 
from sincere love of religious freedom, and confidence in the 
power of Christianity' to stand on its own merits, and in other in- 
stances from an impartial hatred to all forms of piety, demanded 
the removal of these distinctions, and the absolute equality of all 
sects before the law. The most pious of the Baptists of that day 
found themselves often making common cause, in behalf of 
religious freedom, with errorists and infidels. 


returned to his school-room. This is the only instance in 
the memory of any of the family in which this duty was 
ever omitted. 

" On the Lord's day, the rule of the family was for all 
the children to learn a hymn before dinner, and a portion 
of the Catechism before tea. The former was repeated to 
my mother ; the latter to my father. It was not his cus- 
tom to attend the evening meeting. After tea, or at candle 
lighting, we were all assembled in the parlor ; my father, 
or one of the older children, read some suitable passage of 
Scripture, which he explained and illustrated, frequently 
directing the conversation so as to make a personal appli- 
cation to some one or other of us. Singing and prayer 
followed. Occasionally some little refreshment was intro- 
duced, and we retired, at an early hour, to bed. This 
domestic religious service was never interrupted until my 
father became a preacher, and spent most of his Sabbath 
evenings in public worship. 

" I remember to have heard, in my youth, frequent 
conversation between my father and his friends respecting 
an association, that had been established, by several mem- 
bers of the church, for the purpose of improvement in 
exhortation and in the study of the Scriptures. Of this 
association I should suppose my father to have been one 
of the most active members. He looked forward to its 
meetings with unusual interest, and spent regularly a 
considerable portion of time in preparing for its exer- 
cises. In this manner his attention was gradually turned 
to the ministry. Soon after, he applied to the church for 
a license to preach the gospel. I have an indistinct recol- 
lection of the deep interest which this step awakened in 
the minds of both my parents. On the one hand, my 
father felt sensibly his want of literary preparation. On 
the other, a conviction rested with increasing weight upon 
his mind, that it was his duty to make known to his fellow- 
men the riches of that grace of which he was a partaker. 

" As was the excellent custom of those days, he preached 
several times before the church, and once, I think, before 
the congregation, that his brethren might judge of his 
qualifications to become a religious teacher. His request 
was granted, and he received a license, June lo, 1805, on 
the same evening with his Christian brother and life-long 
friend, Daniel Sharp. 


" When my father apphed for a license to preach, he 
had no intention of relinquishing his business and be- 
coming the pastor of a church. He intended merely to 
become a lay preacher. A number of villages were 
growing up in the vicinity of New York, and he desired 
to preach the gospel on the Sabbath to such of them as 
were destitute of religious instruction, while pursuing his 
regular avocation during the week. This plan he pur- 
sued for three or four years. As, however, he became 
more familiar with the duties of the ministry, his love for 
them increased. His aid was sought by feeble churches 
at greater and greater distances from home. His labors 
were blessed to the conversion of souls. His secular and 
his religious avocations became more and more incompat- 
ible with each other. To carry on active business under 
the necessity of so frequent absences from home, was clear- 
ly impossible. The question arose, whether he should 
relinquish the preaching of the gospel altogether, or, 
abandoning all secular business, devote himself exclu- 
sively to the ministry. 

" This subject occasioned long and anxious deliberation. 
On the one hand, provision was to be made for a large 
and increasing family ; his business, already lucrative, was 
extending, and a few years would probably, with the 
blessing of God, leave him entirely independent. On the 
other hand, his property, well invested, would yield him 
about a thousand dollars a year — at that time a much more 
adequate income than at present; and the use of this 
would enable him to pi'each in places where the gospel 
could not otherwise be sustained. He decided to close 
his business, and to devote himself exclusively to the 

These somewhat copious extracts have been given, in 
part because of their intrinsic interest, in part because of 
the insight they give into the influences which surround- 
ed the subject of this memoir, and because it is more 
than probable that his later views of the standard of 
Christian and ministerial labor, self-denial, and piety, 
were in some degree derived from his early impressions. 

Mr. Wayland became pastor of the Baptist church in 
Poughkeepsie in 1S07. The church was feeble, disorgan- 


ized, and destitute of a house of worship. He labored 
for four years in this field, most of the time without 
compensation. During this period a house of worship 
was erected, many souls were converted, and the founda- 
tion was laid for the thriving churches that now occupy 
that field. 

From Poughkeepsie he removed, in iSii, to Albany, 
and from thence, after a settlement of about a year, to Troy. 
During his residence in Troy, serious reverses befell him. 
Most of his property was invested in marine insurance 
companies, which became bankrupt in consequence of 
the seizure of American vessels under the Berlin and 
Milan decrees. To these reverses he opposed the force 
of patience, industry, frugality, and confidence in God. 
He eked out his scanty salary by teaching a boys' school ; 
and these efforts, united with the wise and conscientious 
economy of his noble wife, enabled him not only to main- 
tain his family, and to afibrd them the education which he 
justly deemed the best earthly heritage, but to exercise, 
heartily but unostentatiously, the scriptural grace of hos- 
pitality toward his Christian brethren. 

In 1S19 he became pastor of the church in Saratoga 
Springs, and in that beautiful village he passed the peace- 
ful evening of his pious life. After ceasing from his 
pastoral cares in 1833, he spent almost his entire time in 
preaching, in secret devotion, in religious conversation, 
and in visiting those who were sick or afflicted, or in need 
of spiritual counsel. 

It is the testimony of his son, and of all who knew 
him, that he was a man of peculiar industry, integrity, 
and devotion. As a preacher, he was too little endov/ed 
with imagination and passion to be largely popular. He 
was, however, eminently scriptural, religious, and in- 

" His forte was not the pulpit, but the chamber of sick- 
ness ; his public ministrations were less successful than 
VOL. I. 2 


his conversation from house to house. For facility in the 
introckiction of rehgious subjects, in his visits among his 
acquaintances of whatever station, and of whatever char- 
acter, and for faithfuhiess in pressing them home to per- 
sonal application, I have never known his superior." 

It has been seen that the avocations of Mr. Way- 
land called him often away from his family. This fact 
thi'cw the training of the children greatly into the hands 
of the mother, and the same Providence that laid this 
duty upon her, had imparted eminent qualifications for its 
discharge. Her gentleness of temper, her winning man- 
ners, her mental activity, and a youthfulness of feeling 
unsubdued by care, privation, or sickness, gave her pecu- 
liar sympathy with the young. In an especial manner 
v/as her influence felt by her oldest son. His early ma- 
turity rendered him in some degree her companion ; and 
with the reverence due to a parent there was blended the 
fondness naturally felt for an older sister. He has men- 
tioned, in illustration of her youthfulness of appearance, 
that once when he was travelling with her, after he had 
reached twenty years of age, she was supposed to be his 
wife. Possibly the tender and devoted attention which 
he then, as ever, paid her, had some effect in causing the 
erroneous impression. 

"Much of my time during my boj'hood was spent in 
the society of my mother. The time between morning 
and afternoon school hours w'as occupied with dinner 
and its attendant avocations. But when I returned home 
in the afternoon, I always found her with her needle. I 
used to read to her my books, over and over again, and 
draw pictures of animals on the slate. I well remember 
tliat she spent much of the time in conversation with me, 
relating to me anecdotes from histor}^ the sufferings and 
death of martyrs, and the scenes which she recalled of 
her childhood. Of these latter, I regret to say, that the 
greater part have passed from my recollection. But there 
was one class of them, the effect of which upon my mind 
I cannot forget. There was a spot in Norwich where 



many Protestants had suffered martyrdom in the reign of 
Mary, and there were also the remains of an old abbey 
or monastery, in the dungeons of which many pious per- 
sons had been tortured for their profession of faith in 
Christ. The emotion with which my mother used to 
relate these atrocities I shall always remember. If I have 
ever cherished a genuine abhorrence for religious intoler- 
ance, the sentiment was first awakened by my inother's 
conversations. Nor was she merely an enemy of persecu- 
tion for the sake of religion. I have never known a more 
enthusiastic or more consistent lover of human liberty. 
For oppression of every kind she felt a true and noble 
disdain. I was less than four years old at the death of 
Washington, and his obsequies in New York is the first 
event of which I have a distinct recollection. I well 
remember the deep interest which her account of his 
character awakened in my bosom. When very young, I 
felt dissatisfied because my parents had not named me 
after the Father of my country. I wished even then to 
have it in my power in some way to do him honor." 

She possessed a remarkable faculty of rendering her 
home at once attractive and elevating. 

" The excellent taste of my mother was equally apparent, 
whatever might be our circumstances. Everything under 
her control was always neat, in keeping, and in perfect 
order. Whatever might be the furniture of the room, 
when you entered it, you Vv'ould have been convinced 
that a discriminating and cultivated mind presided over 
all the arrangements of the household." 

" From my earliest recollections she was a very assid- 
uous reader. During the early part of her life this incli- 
nation could not be fully gratified, for she subjected her 
tastes habitually to her convictions of duty. After her 
health failed, and the labor of her hands became impossi- 
ble, she read extensively. You might call upon her when 
you would, and if she was not engrossed in some domestic 
occupation, she was always engaged in reading. With 
many of the best works on theology she was well 
acquainted. But she did not confine herself to these. 
She read with interest every work that conveyed impor- 
tant knowledge or communicated a quickening impulse 


to the human faculties. Especially did she delight in tra« 
cing the progress of the cause of Christ, the diffusion of 
knowledge, and the triumphs of freedom in every part of 
the globe." 

A character thus beautiful and benign was perfected 
and transfigured by the influence of religious principle. 

" Her piety was marked by profound humility, a deep 
conviction of her own unworthiness in the sight of God, 
proceeding from a clear conception of the holiness of his 
law, a firm reliance on the merits of Christ for salva- 
tion, and an earnest and controlling desire to bring every 
thought, word, and action into conformity with the pre- 
cepts of the Savior." 

Endowed with such characteristics, it will readily be 
believed that she engaged the deep affection of her son ; 
and the reader of the following pages will, it is appre- 
hended, find many traces of the influence of her counsels 
and her example. It would be quite impossible, without 
copious extracts, to give any adequate idea of the reverent 
and grateful tenderness which pervaded his correspond- 
ence with her, and indeed with both his parents. In 
speaking of them in 1849, he writes, — 

" I think that if their children have attained to any por- 
tion of success in the present life, or to a well-grounded 
hope of future happiness, they will ascribe it in no com- 
mon degree to the precepts, example, and counsels of 
their parents. These have been a richer heritage than 
wealth or worldly honor could bestow ; a heritage which 
I would not exchange for a descent from princes." * 

* One or two circumstances in the life of Mrs. Wajland were 
sufficiently remarkable to merit recital. No explanation of them 
is attempted. At the time of their removal to America, it was the 
design of Mr. Wayland and his wife to return in a few years, and 
visit the relatives whom they had left behind, especially the mother 
of Mrs. W. This purpose they often spoke of to each other. But 
one morning, after they had been some years in this country, she 
said to him, on waking, " I do not wish to return to England. My 
mother is dead." No previous intimation of her ill health had 


Of these parents Francis Wayland was born, March 
II, 1796, ill the city of New York, in a house on the 
corner of Frankfort and Rose Streets. 

Our knowledge of this portion of his hfe is derived 
mainly from himself. His sons had often entreated him 
to commit to writing some account of his own life, and 
he expressed a willingness to do so. It is probable, how- 
ever, that he did not feel himself at liberty during the 
years of health, to devote time to preparing what so 
largely concerned himself and his own acts, and what 
would not, in his view, interest or instruct any outside 
of his own family. But after a severe attack of sickness, 
in the spring of 1S60, he commenced a series of reminis- 
cences, which he thus introduces : — 

"October 26, 1S60. My children have sometimes 
intimated to me that they would be greatly pleased if I 
would write some reminiscences of my own life. Until 
the present time I have never found leisure for such an 
undertaking. During the past summer I have been 
obliged to lay aside active literary labor. I have, how- 
ever, so far improved, that writing is pleasant to me, 
though I am hardly prepared for accurate thinking. I 

been received. He, unknown to her, made a minute of the time 
of her declaration ; and a subsequent arrival brought the news of 
the event, which had occurred at about the time at which her mind 
was thus impressed. 

When her son — the subject of this memoir — was expected 
home from New York, after attending medical lectures there, 
during the winter of 1814-15, Mrs. W., who was sitting with her 
husband, suddenly walked the room in great agitation, saying, 
" Pray for my son ; Francis is in danger." So urgent was her 
request that her husband joined her in prayer for his deliverance 
from peril. At the expected time he returned. His mother at 
once asked, "What has taken place.-"' It appeared, that while 
coming up the North River, on a sloop, he had fallen overboard, 
and the sloop had passed over him. He was an athletic swimmer, 
and readily kept himself afloat till he could be rescued. Was it 
the unspeakable power of a mother's love that imparted a vision 
more than natural.'' 


have thought that, by undertaking something of this 
kind, I might the better prepare myself for severer duties, 
and also give pleasure to those whom I love. I there- 
fore, this day, have commened this rambling autobiog- 

" It will at once be evident that I have nothing of 
special importance to record, for my life has been sin- 
gularly free from incident. Yet a plain tale of individual 
history presents a specimen of human life, from which, 
almost always, some lesson may be gleaned. It is always 
interesting to personal friends, and for them alone the 
following pages are written. Without apologizing for 
the egotism, I shall write almost exclusively of myself; 
for this, I know, is what those for whom I write would 
decidedly prefer." 

As has before been stated, the first event within his 
remembrance was the death of Washington, and the 
funeral ceremonies in New York. He clearly recalled 
the childish perplexity with which he saw in the parade 
a coffin and a bier, and the outward semblance of a 
funeral, while yet he was informed that the person in 
whose honor all these ceremonies were held had been 
buried weeks previously in a remote State. He was, it 
would seem, even then dissatisfied with witnessing spec- 
tacles without trying to understand their meaning. 

He also gives the following reminiscences : — 

" I heard a conversation about some one being stied. 
My oldest sister was called 'Sue' in the family, and I 
somehow associated her name with the suing of which I 
had heard. I asked the meaning of suing, and I remember 
the answer which spoke of courts, and juries, and con- 
stables, all which was perfectly beyond my comprehen- 
sion. I well recall my childish attempts to understand the 
nature of civil laws, and of the process which was a sub- 
ject of discussion ; but the whole matter was beyond my 
powers. I mention this trifling incident because I think 
it has been of service to me in subsequent life. I have 
ajopreciated the difficulty with which children comprehend 
any complicated subject, especially the social relations of 
man ; and I see what was the fault of my instructors. 


They told me about judges and courts, while what was 
meant by these terms was to mc entirely unintelligible. 
Had they laid aside all words pertaining to office, and 
illustrated the moral nature of the transaction by reference 
to what might happen in the plays of children, I could 
have arrived at the general idea. From this incident I 
have learned to convey a new idea to the young with the 
greatest simplicity in my power, and not to be satisfied 
until I see that they are able to comprehend the radical 
conception without the use of technical terms. There is 
nothing that a child ought to know, v/hich it cannot 
be taught, if one will take pains to present the radical 
idea, and illustrate it by something which is occurring 
every day in its own experience. 

"My father was a man of very fixed ideas of family 
government, and required of his children implicit obedi- 
ence. I have no recollection of ever disobeying him 
deliberately but once. There was a school on the op- 
posite side of the street, tauglit by a young woman, and it 
was determined to send me there for instruction. It was, 
however, a girls' school, and taught by a woman. I 
resisted to the utmost, and was carried over in arms. It 
was not that I was opposed to being taught, but I could 
not consent to be taught by a woman, and in a girls' 
school. I spent the time in school in loud crying, which 
was not at all lessened by the threat of the mistress to 
put me in the oven. After a few trials, the attempt w^as 
relinquished, and it was determined to send me to a boys' 
school. I allude to this incident to mark the difference 
which fifty years have made in our notions of instruction. 
At the present day, women are our most esteemed teachers, 
and they frequently control with ease large schools of the 
most refractory lads, and sometimes young persons who 
have almost arrived at majority. I have known them to 
succeed in the enforcement of discipline where mot^ of 
their own age, had entirely failed.* 

* It seems proper to place beside the record of his somewhat 
immature judgment a later utterance, extracted from the Address 
before the American Institute, in 1S54 : " By the gradation of our 
schools, another most important advantage is secured. A vast 
field is thus opened for the employment of female teachers. At 
the present moment, women perform a large portion of the teach- 


" I early attended a boys' school in the rear of the old 
Methodist meeting-house, in John Street. The only 
thing that I remember of this school is, that no distinction 
was at that time made in respect to color. A few colored 
children attended the school, and played with the other 
pupils without exciting remark. I was not aware that 
any degradation attached to their color ; and this, I think, 
was the general opinion of the period. 

" The next school which I attended was taught (if I may 
apply that term to his labor) by an Englishman, a cler- 
gyman, who subsequently attained some celebrity in the 
city. I am unable to say how far he was a fair specimen 
of the schoolmaster of that day. His school had con- 
siderable reputation. He was of venerable, yet severe 
aspect, and with a strong sense of personal dignity. He 
used but one motive to obedience — terror. The ferule 
and the cowhide were in constant use. He never taicght 
us anything ; indeed, he seemed to think it below his 
dignity. I do not remember anything approaching ex- 
planation while I was at the school. A sum was set, and 
the pupil left to himself to find out the method of doing it. 
If it was wrong, the error was marked, and he must try 
again. If again it was wrong, he was imprisoned after 
school, or he was whipped. 

" In other studies the text of the book must be repeated 
without a word of explanation. Geography was studied 
without a map, by the use of a perfectly dry compendium. 
I had no idea what w^as meant by bounding a country, 
though I daily repeated the boundaries at recitation. I 
studied English grammar in the same way. I had a 
good memory, and could repeat the Grammar (Lowth's, 
I think) throughout. What it was about, I had not the 
least conception. Once, the schoolmaster was visiting at 
my father's, and I was called up to show my proficiency 

ing in New England, and thej do it so well that this portion is 
rapidly growing larger. Women have a much greater natural 
adaptation to the work of instruction than men. We find only 
occasionally a man possessed of this peculiar endowment, while 
among women it is almost universal. Much of the improvement 
in education in New England is, I believe, to be ascribed to the 
employment of women, in the place of men, in a large number of 
our schools." 


in this branch of learning. I surprised my friends by my 
abihty to begin at the commencement and to proceed as far 
as was desired ; yet it did not convey to me a single idea. 
Years afterwards, when I began to study Latin, and found 
the relation of words to each other designated by termina- 
tions, and when the matter was explained to me, the whole 
of my past study came to me like a new revelation. I 
saw the meaning of what I had formerly, in utter dark- 
ness, committed to memory. 

" Thus I was doomed to spend several of the most 
precious years of my life. I do not believe such a school 
could exist at the present time in any part of this country 
with which I am acquainted. It could not have been 
sustained then, but for the fact that the master was a 
clergyman, well reputed for piety, and supposed to be 
solemn enough to impress boys with awe. The only 
pleasure I have in remembering this school is derived 
from the belief that boys of the present day are not ex- 
posed to such miserable instruction. As, on the one hand, 
no such school would now be tolerated, so, on the other 
hand, such teaching as is now enjoyed in our public 
schools could not then have been procured at any ordi- 
nary expense, if at all. Perhaps my experience here was 
not altogether lost. It has at least served to impress me 
with the importance of doing everything in my power to 
bring whatever I attempted to teach within the under- 
standing of the learner." 

It was to this poition of his youth that the reminiscence 
belongs, given above, of his spending much of his leisure 
time in reading by the side of his mother. A surviving 
sister, Mrs. C, says of the same period, — 

" Although he was but two years the senior of the sister 
next him in age, yet, for some reason, he always seemed 
much older than the rest of us. When a mere boy, he 
was the companion of our mother. While we were at 
phi}', he would sit by her side and converse with her, freed 
from all childish reserve. As he grew older, he would 
talk with her about his studies, and his various discour- 

When he was in his eleventh year, his father having 
removed to Poughkeepsie, he entered the Dutchess 


County Academy. It was here, under the instruction of 
Rev. John Lawton (subsequently of Vermont), whom he 
remembered with respect and gratitude, that he made 
the discovery lately referred to, of the signification of 
grammar. Various instructors followed. 

" Under one I commenced the study of Greek, with the 
use of the Westminster Greek Grammar. The text was in 
Latin, and I was I'equired to understand it, at a time when 
I could with difficulty construe and parse the simplest narra- 
tive sentence in Latin. I learned the declensions and conju- 
gations, but the Grammar was of little furthef use to me.* 
With another I attempted to read Virgil, and used to 
recite perhaps a hundred lines at a lesson, having read it 
over in the most cursory manner with the aid of David- 
son, whose edition was then in use. I presume the teacher 
could not read it himself, and the only effect of such in- 
struction was to cultivate in me habits of utter carelessness 
and of entire neglect of study. 

" Towards the close of my father's residence in P. some 
public-spii-ited gentlemen determined to place the Academy 
on a respectable footing. They secured the sei-vices of 
Mr. Daniel H. Barnes, a teacher whom I shall ever re- 
member with affection and gratitude. Mr. B. made 
teaching his profession for life, and he chose it wisely, 
for this was the avocation for which nature had designed 
him. A strict yet kind disciplinarian, ready always 
to render all needful assistance, but teaching the scholar 
to rely mainly on himself, he possessed in a remarkable 
degree the power of instilling his own enthusiasm into 
the mind of the pupil. Under him I first learned to study 

* We have never chanced to fall in w^ith the Westminster Greek 
Grammar named above, nor probably have many of our readers; 
but the following extract from its pages, which we find quoted by 
Sydney Smith, will afford a sufficient idea of its contents. It will 
be remarked that the grammatical rules are expressed in hexam- 
eter lines : — 

" V) finis thematis finis utriusque futuri est 
Post liquidam in primo, vel in unoquoque secundo, 
to circumflexus est. Ante to finale character 
Explicitus 6f primi est implicitusque futuri 
o) itaque in quo d quasi plexum est solitu in Jtu." 


for the love of it, and to take a pride in accurate knowl- 
edge. The study of languages in this country had not 
then received the abundant aids now enjoyed ; but they 
w^ere taught by IMr. B. according to the best knowledge 
of the time, and the spirit which he infused into the work 
could not be excelled. 

" The day on which I first came under his instruction 
is vivid in my memory. I had been reading Virgil at the 
rate just now described, and I considered myself quite an 
advanced Latin scholar. Judge of my surprise when he 
put the class back into Cajsar, and gave us only one sec- 
tion for a lesson. We came to the recitation with the 
feeling of persons whose attainments were sadly under- 
rated. But the exercise had not proceeded ten minutes 
before we were painfully undeceived. We supposed that 
the section given out for the lesson would be easily re- 
cited in a few minutes ; but the hour had elapsed before 
we had completed three sentences. Every word was to 
be analyzed, and declined or conjugated ; its number, 
person, case, or tense determined ; the reason for its pres- 
ent form, and the rule by wdiich it assumed that form, 
given from the Grammar ; the geography of Gaul and of 
the " tres partes" must be stated, and the Latin text not 
only rendered into correct English, but the whole matter 
must be comprehended by each student. We went home 
humbled and mortified at our ignorance, satisfied that we 
had been imposed upon by our previous masters, and that 
now, for the first time in our lives, we had met a real in- 
structor. Our estimate of his superiority was unlimited, 
and we yielded ourselves with enthusiasm to his guidance." 

He has related that while attending school in Pough- 
keepsie, he used, with his schoolmates, to run down to the 
bank of the Hudson, and gaze, with wonder and awe, on the 
creation of the genius of Fulton, the " Chancellor Living- 
ston," as she made her way to and from Albany, achiev- 
ing the passage in two or three days — little less than a 
miracle to those who had sometimes been as many weeks 
in making the voyage by sloop. 

Among his fellow-pupils was Hon. Samuel B. Ruggles, 
now of New York, who writes as follows : — 


" I well remember him as my schoolmate in the excellent 
Academy in Poughkeepsie, under Mr. Daniel H. Barnes, as 
principal, afterwards distinguished in this city as a success- 
ful teacher in connection with Mr. Griscom. He was a 
good, solid scholar, serious, orderly, and attentive, rather 
sedate in manner, but of pleasant temper, and a favorite 
with his teacher. I cannot now recall him as mingling 
much in the out-door sports and games, still less in the 
in-door pranks of the school, which occasionally drew down 
academic justice on some of us. 1 distinctly recollect his 
elocution, as a good, strong speaker, and even the fact that 
he selected for declamation, several times in succession, an 
extract from an oration on ' injured Africa.' 

" But he remains very clearly in my memory from the 
circumstance that in or near the )'ear iSii, at a public 
exhibition of the Academy, while the first Napoleon was 
at the zenith of his power, he and I wei^e set by our 
ambitious schoolmaster to dispute the political question, 
then agitating all classes in America (which would now 
seem to be slightly beyond the ordinary range of boyish 
exercises), ' if Bonaparte should conquer England, can he 
conquer America.' My father, a good old Connecticut 
' Federalist' of the broadest stamp, then practising law at 
Poughkeepsie, was of course utterly opposed to Mr. Jeffer- 
son and Mr. Madison, and their supposed proclivities 
towards France and its emperor. Of course, also, I toolc 
the negative in the dispute. It is my impression that 
Wayland's family wei'e ' Republicans,' by which denomi- 
nation the supporters of the Jeffersonian school were then 
known. At any rate he took the affirmative in the dispute, 
and maintained it with much force and earnestness. It is 
among the phenomena of early memories, rendering fugi- 
tive words indelible, that I now recollect even the language 
of one of his statements in that edifying discussion be- 
tween us striplings, neither of us more than twelve or 
fourteen years old. ' Canada,' he said, ' stands ready to 
side at once with the invader. In habits and language 
they sympathize with France. Their language is already 
French.' He was not alone in the affirmative. It was 
the prevailing belief among all our village Republicans. 
The dread of Napoleon was not dispelled until the dis- 
asters of the Russian campaign of 1812, and the final 
overthrow at Leipsic in 1S13, which so filled our village 



Federalists with py, that they not only illuminated their 
houses, but stigmatized their opponents for refusing to 
follow their example. 

" Meanwhile I had gone to Yale, to learn a little more 
Federalism from President Dwight, and Wayland, taking 
an opposite direction, had gone, I think, to Union College. 
I did not see him again until nearly forty years afterwards, 
when I knew him as the honored president of Brown 

We return to the reminiscences : — 

" I enjoyed the instruction of this excellent man and 
remarkable teacher until my parents removed to Albany 
in iSii. To him I owe much, and I can never remember 
him but with warm affection. Had I been under the care 
of such an instructor from childhood, it would have been 
a blessing, the amount of which I cannot pretend to esti- 
mate. He soon raised the Academy to a position of emi- 
nence. Many of the leading men of that part of the state 
were his pupils, and I do not think that there is one of 
them whose estimate of the late D. H. Barnes would diflcr 
essentially from mine.* 

* After teaching in Dutcliess County Academy for several years 
with great success, Mr. B. removed to Cincinnati, subsequently to 
Schenectady, and thence to the city of New York. In each of 
these places he established a high reputation as an instructor, 
and as a man of science. He died a little past forty years of age. 
" He had accepted an invitation to attend the annual examination 
of the Rensselaer Institute, at Troy, which was to occur after the 
close of his term. It was his uniform habit to improve every 
opportunity to instil into the minds of his pupils useful, moral, 
intellectual, and practical precepts. And in dismissing his scholars 
for the summer vacation, he gave them some advice about travel- 
ling. Among other things, he spoke of the wisest course to pur- 
sue, if, at any time, the horses should run away. He especially 
cautioned them against jumping out of the carriage in such a case,, 
and advised them to lie down in the bottom of the vehicle. On 
his way from New York to Troy, he spent a day or two at Canaan, 
the place of his birth. As he was going from thence to Hudson, 
to take the steamboat, the horses of the stage ran away, and the 
driver was thrown from his seat. Mr. Barnes, from some inex- 
plicable impulse, jumped from the carriage, struck his head against 


" I ought here to record my sense of obligation to some 
gentlemen who cooperated with Mr. B. in his efforts. 
Rev. Cornelius C. Cuyler * had quite lately been settled 
as pastor of the Dutch Reformed church in P. Thomas 
J. Oakley (afterwards member of Congress, and sub- 
sequently Chief Justice of the Superior Court in New 
York city) was just rising to eminence in the profession 
of law. These, with other gentlemen, would frequently 
spend an hour in the school, attending with great care to 
the recitations in progress. At the quarterly examina- 
tions, they were sure to be present, and acted as judges 
when we were examined for premiums. The good that 
was thus done was greater than either of those excellent 
men realized. We were accustomed to consider them as 
in the vei'y first class of men within our knowledge. If 
they took an interest in our studies, we could not but 
believe that study was honorable. If they condescended 
to express pleasure at our success, we felt that the highest 
of earthly honors had been obtained — laudari a laudato 

Of the traits which he exhibited at his home, and 
among his playmates, his sister, Mrs. C, remarks, — 

" Our two younger brothers were mischievous boys, in- 
separable in all their sports, active, restless, unscrupulous, 
often wantonly destroying our dolls, playthings, and min- 
iature houses. At such times our oldest brother, Francis, 
would soothe us and vindicate our rights. He was unlike 
most boys.f I do not remember that he ever marred or 

a stone, and never spoke again. The horses, after running a few 
miles, stopped at their accustomed watering trough, and no injury 
resulted to any one save to Mr. Barnes. Had he lived, he would 
have taken his place among the first educators and the first 
physicists in America." 

* Dr. Cuyler was a distant relative of Rev. Theo. L. Cuyler, 
D. D., of Brooklyn. 

t " While I was yet a child, no childish play 
To me was pleasing; all my mind was set. 
Serious, to learn and know, and thence to do, 
What might be public good; myself I thought 
Born to that end, — born to promote all truth, 
All righteous things." — Paradise Regained, 


destroyed any of our playthings. He had no organ of 
destructiveness, and the right of property was sacred with 
him. Even then he was an authority in morals, and a 
staunch vindicator of personal rights. The least ap- 
proach to oppression aroused him. When he was but a 
lad, an older school-fellow was annoying and injuring the 
smaller boys. After expostulating in vain with the ag- 
gressor, my brother resorted to physical force to defend 
the injured. When he had flogged the lad, there was no 
further annoyance. The corrected youth became, subse- 
quently, eminent in his profession, and a warm friend of 
his early antagonist. I have heard mother say tliat this 
was the only personal encounter of his school days." 

We again extract from Dr. Wayland's reminiscences : — ■ 

"After I had been under Mr. B.'s tuition for almost 
eighteen months, my father removed to Albany, and I 
entered Union College, in May, iSii, being then fifteen 
years of age. I had expected to enter the third term of 
the Freshman year ; but upon examination I was admitted 
to the third term of the Sophomore year. 

" The entrance to college forms an era in the life of a 
young person, especially if (as in my case) he then for the 
first time leaves his father's house, and has the care of 
himself. I was struck with irrepressible awe as I came 
into the presence of the professors for the purpose of 
being examined. They seemed at an vmspeakable dis- 
tance from me. It v^^as with an overwhelming thrill of joy 
that I received the announcement that I could not only 
enter, but enter a year in advance of my expectations." 

In a letter to his father, of May 17, iSii (the earliest 
of his letters known to exist), he writes, "I am very glad 
that I did not enter the Freshman class, as in the Sopho- 
more I am not deficient in anything but mathematics ; this 
deficiency I hope to make up in vacation." 

At his entrance into college, the eminent Dr. Nott was 
in the seventh year of his presidency. The professors 
were Rev. Thomas Macauley, D. D., and Rev. T. C. 
Brownell, D. D., afterwards Bishop of Connecticut. 

" Of my college course nothing remains to me but the 
general impression. The instructors were able, and (for 


that time) well informed in their various departments. 
Many of them have attained to eminence in their several 
professions. But the course was very limited. Chemistry 
was scarcely born ; electricity was a plaything ; algebra 
was studied for six weeks ; and geology was named only 
to be laughed at. I was soon hurried into studies which 
I could not understand, and in which I had little interest. 
I was a pretty good reciter of what I understood dimly, 
or not at all. I studied Karnes' Elements, and Stewart on 
the Mind, and heard the essays of older students on these 
and kindred topics, with a vague notion that if I were 
older I could do the same thing, but that at present it was 
out of the question for me to understand and reason about 
these subjects as they did. 

"The social influences about me were bad. The young 
men professing piety kept their religion to themselves. 
Only one of them ever personally addressed me on the 
subject of religion. This was a pious classmate, Rev. 
William R. Bogardus, D. D., of the Dutch Reformed 
church, now, or ixcently, in the State of New Jersey,* 
who once called me into his room, and faithfully and 
affectionately conversed with me in regard to my soul. I 
have not seen him since we graduated ; yet I never think 
of him without an emotion of gratitude and love that I 
feel for no other of my college friends. A few of the 
students were young men of property, who squandered 
their money in eating and drinking. But the greater part 
were boys like myself, left to pursue such courses as they 
chose, restrained by nothing but fear of college discipline. 
I do not think that there was much gross sin in college 
at this time, but many habits were forming which would 
afterwards harden into open vice. Prevarication and 
lying to officers, playing cards, small pilfering, especially 
from commons and from the neighborhood of the college, 
false accounts to parents, and profanity, especially in 
playing games of chance, all sprang up in profusion. A 
portion of the students were old enough to understand 
and wise enough to appreciate the studies we pursued ; but 
these mostly associated with each other, and cared little 
for those who were uninterested in these pursuits. We 
studied, if it might be called study, for recitation merely, 

* Since deceased. ; 


never carrying our thoughts one inch beyond the page 
on which our eyes rested. Mental discipline or growth, 
except so far as the latter was the result of increase of 
years, was oiit of the question." 

The language just quoted would leave the impression 
that his discharge of the duties of his college course was 
very imperfect. While, however, it is unquestionable 
that he appreciated the advantages then within his reach 
far less than he would have done in later years, yet it is 
probable that the account wdiich he gives of his early 
deficiencies is exaggerated. He always underrated his 
own attainments, and applying to his college course the 
elevated standard of maturer years and more exalted 
motives, he was deeply impressed v/ith a sense of early 
remissness. It is scarcely conceivable, however, that he 
would have been invited, a few years later, to assume 
the office of tutor, had he borne the character of a very 
negligent student. 

Hon. B. P. Johnson, of Albany, secretary of the New 
York State Agricultural Society, writes, — 

" My recollection of him dates back to the time when 
we met at Schenectady to be examined for admission to 
Union College. We had a room assigned to us in com- 
mon, and we continued together for that term. He was 
fond of athletic sports, and I, too, was much in these ex- 
ercises, being the son of a farmer and physician, and being 
obliged to work during the vacations. 

"■ He received a medal, and I, next to him, received a 
testimonial from the president. We had a large class 
(of about forty-five), and a large portion of the students 
were older than we. It required eflbrt to secure a place 
in the ring of honors, but we succeeded. B. B. Wisner, 
from Geneva, New York, took the second prize, though 
we believed that he should have had the first. 

" Wayland was a hard student, and I do not recollect 
that he was ever called up for violation of college laws. 
He was on good terms v/ith all, and kindly remembered 
after we parted in 1813." 

VOL. I. 3 


The late Rev. Mr. Fonda, of the Dutch Reformed 
church, who was then a Sophomore, once mentioned 
that not long before the final dispersion of the class of 1813, 
on some occasion that brought the class and several other 
persons together, Wayland said, " Boys, we have never 
done what we could : we have not known what we can 
do ; let us from this time try to make our mark in the 

The distance from Schenectady to Troy, his father's 
residence, is but fifteen or eighteen miles, and he often 
spent the Sabbath at home. When he failed to do so, a 
letter was generally addressed to the whole fomily. His 
sympathy with his home remained unabated, and afforded, 
no doubt, one of the safeguards that preserved him from 
any gross vice. But few letters belonging to this period 
remain. They are the letters of a lad of fifteen, perhaps 
somewhat more carefully written than are those of most 
boys of that age, but exhibiting no peculiar interest in study, 
nor extraordinary depth of feeling. 

From his mother : — 

" My dear Son : I, or rather we, were rejoiced to have 
a letter from you. I was uneasy all the day that you left 
here. The thought of you broke in upon my sleep also ; 
but the coming of your letter has put another song of 
praise upon my tongue. 

" I thought, when you were at home last, you ap- 
peared low. Is anything on your mind? If there is, I 
l3eg you will not keep it from your mother. 

'•• Whenever I write to you, my dear boy, I must re- 
mind you of your duty to God ; it is my constant prayer 
that you may know him in the day of your youth. Some- 
times, as I look round upon my dear children, I think, 
with the apostle, I could wish myself accursed, so that 
you might be saved. Think of a dying day frequently. 
I should be glad if you would write me, and give me 
some account of the state of your mind." 

In his reply his feelings and his want of feeling are 
exhibited with candor, and are delineated with that clear- 


ness that always marked his descriptions of his own 
processes of thought and emotion. 

" You request me, dear mother, to give you an account 
of the state of my mind. In so doing, I may gratify your 
curiosity, but cannot give you any satisfaction. The state 
of my mind, I fear, is awful ; and I know it, but cannot 
help it. I know that I am a lost, condemned sinner, and 
I do not know how to help myself. I know that I cannot 
do it. I know that nothing but the blood of Christ 
applied to my soul can cleanse me ; but how can this 
blood be applied? When I go to church, I am told to 
examine myself, and see if I am out of the ark of safety, 
and if I find that I am, I must pray to the Lord. As to 
examining, there is no need, for I am convinced that I 
am undone. I try to pray, but I know that I can do 
nothing to help myself. I think I can say that God would 
be just, were he to send me to hell ; but I know that he 
alone can save me. I cannot say that this is the state of 
my mind all the time ; but when I do think on the subject 
of religion, tliese are my thoughts. I never met with any 
person who had been in such a state, except a part of 
Brainerd's experience, and Mr. Hutton, who spoke on his 
experience one Sunday evening at our house. In this 
state of mind I have but two sources of consolation (if 
consolation it may be called) : first, because some who are 
now Christians were once in such a state of mind ; sec- 
ondly, because God has promised that the seed of Jacob 
shall not seek him in vain ; therefore I think that so 
many of your prayers must be answered. This is the 
state of my mind, and I should be glad if you or father 
(whoever writes first) would tell me what I can do." 

He adds in his reminiscences, — 

" To what I have said of the college influences, there was 
one important exception. The recitations of Dr. Nott were 
of the nature of conversational lectures. After a brief reci- 
tation of the text, he occupied the remaining time in ani- 
mated discussion on subjects connected with the lesson. 
Sometimes he examined, and either confirmed, refuted, or 
illustrated the author ; sometimes he showed the conse- 
quences which flowed from the truth enunciated, and ap- 
plied it to tlie various forms of individual, social, and 


political life. Sometimes he relieved the discussion by- 
appropriate anecdotes. On every suitable occasion he 
urged upon us a strict adherence to moral principle, and 
the necessity of religion in order to true success in the life 
that now is, as well as in that which is to come. His reci- 
tations were a pleasure which no student was willing to 
lose. We then began to think ourselves men, for we had 
then first found out hov/ to form judgments for ourselves 
on men and things, and on the events which were tran- 
spiring around us. I think I do not exaggerate when I 
say that attendance upon Dr. Nott's course of instruction 
formed an era in the life of every one of his pupils. And 
yet, I must confess that I derived from it but half the 
advantage it was designed to convey. I was seventeen 
years old when I graduated. I think my mind did not 
develop as soon as that of boys generally. I was inter- 
ested ; I followed him with avidity ; I loved and reverenced 
him, but I had not learned to generalize, nor was I, from 
ignorance of the world, able to apply his principles as I 
should a few years later." 

He was graduated July 28, 1S13. 




IM^MEDIATELY after his graduation he commenced 
the study of medicine, entering the office of Dr. jSIoses 
Hale, then an eminent physician and surgeon in Troy. 
About six months later he entered the office of Dr. Eli 

" He was a man of remarkable logical power, of enthu- 
siastic love for his jDrofession, of great and deserved con- 
fidence in his own judgment, and of strong reliance on the 
power of medicine. I loved and honored him, and I 
believe he was much attached to me. With him I con- 
tinued until I was admitted to practice, and for several 
months afterwards. I was much attached to the study 
and practice of medicine. I think that I should have had 
reasonable success had I continued in it." 

The winter of 1814-15 he spent in New York, attend- 
ing medical lectures. He once mentioned that, during 
this period, he was walking through a street in the lower 
part of the city, when he observed two persons coming 
out of a ship-yard, conversing together. His attention was 
drawn to them alike by their marked appearance, and by 
the notice which they attracted from the passers-by. One 
was a tall, dark-complexioned man, in the uniform of 
the American navy ; the other, a slightly-built man, with 
olive complexion, dark, curling hair, and a quick, nervous 
manner. They were Commodore Decatur and Robert 
Fulton, who had been visiting a floating batteiy that 
Fulton was constructing for use in the war then waging 
against Great Britain. 


He also during the same winter witnessed a thrilling 
scene, which he has thus described : — 

" It so chanced that at the close of the last war with 
Great Britain, I was temporarily a resident of the city of 
New York. The prospects of the nation were shrouded 
in gloom. We had been, for two or three years, at war 
with the mightiest nation on earth, and as she had now 
concluded a peace with the continent of Europe, we were 
obliged to cope with her single-handed. Our harbors 
were blockaded, communication coastwise between our 
ports was cut ofl", our ships were rotting in every creek and 
cove where they could find a place of security. Our im- 
mense annual products were mouldering in our ware- 
houses. The sources of profitable labor were dried up. 
Our currency was reduced to irredeemable paper. The 
extreme portions of our country were becoming hostile to 
each other, and diflerences of political opinion were em- 
bittering the peace of every household. The credit of the 
government was exhausted. No one could predict when 
the contest would terminate, or discover the means by 
which it could much longer be protracted. 

" It happened that on a Sunday afternoon in February, 
a ship was discovered in the offing, which was supposed 
to be a cartel, bringing home our commissioners at Ghent, 
from their unsuccessful mission. The sun had set gloom- 
ily before any intelligence from the vessel had reached 
the city. Expectation became painfully intense, as the 
hours of darkness drew on. At length a boat reached 
the wharf, announcing the fact that a treaty of peace had 
been signed, and was waiting for nothing but the action 
of our government to become a law. The men on whose 
ears these words first fell, rushed in breathless haste into 
the city, to repeat them to their friends, shouting as they 
ran through the streets, ' Peace ! Peace I Peace ! ' Every 
one who heard the sound repeated it. From house to 
house, from street to street, the news spread with electric 
rapidity. The whole city was in commotion. Men bear- 
ing lighted torches were flying to and fro, shouting like 
madmen, ' Peace ! Peace ! ' When the rapture had 
j^artially subsided, one idea occupied every mind. But 
few men slept that night. In groups they were gathered 
in the streets, and by the fireside, beguiling the hours of 


midnight by reminding each other that the agony of war 
was over, and that a worn out and distracted country, was 
about to enter again upon its wonted career of pros- 
perity." — Sermon on the Apostolic Ministry. 

He writes, in the reminiscences, — 

" My study of medicine at this time and under so eminent 
a physician has enabled me to observe the changes which 
have taken place in the healing art within the period of 
forty years. Dr. Burritt was an able and experienced 
physician, standing at the head of his profession in Troy 
and the neighboring region, and a peison of high moral 
character. Yet his practice would at the present time be 
considered most barbarous. I observed that he changed 
much during the time of my acquaintance with him. 
His confidence in the power of medicine greatly decreased, 
and he administered less and less. While I was a student 
with him, he frequently bled at the commencement of 
autumnal fever, and generally salivated, on the theory, 
then in vogue, that there could not exist two diseases at 
the same time in the human system, and that the mer- 
curial disease, if established, would extirpate the other. 
The number of medicines to be daily and hourly admin- 
istered was surprising. I almost wonder, looking at the 
matter from my present point of view, that any of the 
patients survived. Bleeding was a matter of very fre- 
quent occurrence on almost every occasion. Salivation, 
emetics, and drastic purgatives were much in vogue. 
The ruling idea seemed to be that, when a physician was 
called, he was to meet the disease like an enemy, and 
contend with it pugnis et calcibzis^ zmgiiibiis et rostro. 
His weapons were the materia medica, and the body of 
the patient was the theatre where this contest was carried 
on. It was a very heroic undertaking on the part of the 
physician, but a most suffering, not to say perilous condi- 
tion on the part of the patient. At the present day the 
same disease would be treated with simple cleanliness, 
fresh air, and the careful watching of every symptom, to 
relieve, if possible, any part to which the disease might 
direct itself. The amount of medicine given has dimin- 
ished, no one pretends to say how much. Dr. (a very 

eminent authority) prescribes an emictic at the very com- 
mencement of the disease ; but even in this he is almost 
alone. Bleeding is nearly abandoned. Recently one of 


the physicians at the Massachusetts General Hospital 
directed one of the house physicians to bleed a patient. 
He rcpHcd that he would cheerfully do it, but he had 
never seen a person bled. He then called upon the other 
assistant, who made the same reply, and they requested 
the older physician to perform the operation, that they 
might learn how to do it. So great have been the changes 
in practice since I first knew the profession, and all, with- 
out doubt, for the benefit of suflering humanity." 

In view of the description which he gives of the medi- 
cal practice of that day, the reader will perhaps be of 
opinion that he entitled himself to the gratitude of man- 
kind by turning to a different profession, and that he 
might rightly claim the civic crown, anciently bestowed 
by Rome on one who had saved the life of his fellow- 

Though he did not enter on the calling for which he 
had prepared himself, yet the time spent in his medical 
course was bj^ no means lost. He began to study with 
more earnestness than heretofore, from the fact that he 
had a definite idea of the results to be obtained by his 
efibrts. He understood what he needed to know, and 
wh}' he needed to know it. He gained an acquaintance 
with physical science, and a fondness for it, which never 
forsook him, though the character of his subsequent duties 
gave him but scanty opportunity for keeping up with the 
progress of this most rapidly advancing branch of knowl- 
edge. It cultivated the habit of observation, alike of nature 
and of mankind, which through life he possessed and used 
in a higher degree than most persons were aware of. 

It also brought him under the intellectual influence and 
stimulus of persons who were his superiors in age and 
attainments, but who discerned in him the signs of 
promise, and favored him with the fullest and most im- 
proving intimacy. While he was a student in college, 
his intercourse with his instructors had been almost 
entirely ofiicial. Personally he had known as little of 
them as they of him, and he had caught from them no 


inspiration. It is probable that even the instructions of 
Dr. Nott did not, at the time of his enjoying them, exert 
any special influence on his mind. With Dr. Burritt his 
personal relations were close, and the influence exerted 
on him was immediate. When the doctor was called 
away and did not return till night, his pupil would be in 
waiting at the ofiice to welcome his return ; and then they 
would stir up the fire and sit far into the night, discuss- 
ing not merely professional topics, but almost every subject, 
till the mind of the young man became thoroughly 
aroused. One of his early friends* observes, — 

" I was once riding with Dr. Wayland from Andover to 
Boston, and I asked him some questions about his early life 
and the sources of his success. He told me, among other 
things, that when a boy he was often ridiculed by lads older 
than° himself. This discouraged him. When in college 
an older student criticised one of his compositions very 
severely and unjustly. Disheartened and disgusted he 
unwisely resolved to do as little of study and writing as 
he could and yet keep in his class. Later, after he had 
entered the office of Dr. B., the latter said to him, ' Now, 
Wayland, if you will bone down to it, and give your time 
and strength to your studies, I will make a man of you.' 
These encouraging words inspired him with a new life. 
The condition was performed, and the promise was ful- 

Dr. Wayland writes, — 

" It was during the period of my medical studies that, 
as I well remember, a remarkable change took place in 
my intellectual condition. Upon entering college, I had, 
for the first time in my life, an almost unlimited com- 
mand of books. I was very desirous of knowledge, 
and supposed that in order to obtain it, I had nothing 
to do but simply to read, and therefore I must read 
as much as possible. I read everything that came within 
my reach, without much selection, and with less recol- 
lection. Gradually, however, I subsided into reading for 
amusement. I read travels, novels, and works of humor, 
with untired avidity. My mind seemed capable of taking 

* Rev. Mark Tucker, D. D. 


in nothing but narration. I read Scott's Lady of the 
Lake for no other purpose than to follow out the story, 
and, as this seemed simple enough, I derived from it very 
little pleasure. I read the Spectator very much in the 
same way, selecting, as I went along, all of the narrative 
essa3'S and omitting everything else. I used to wonder 
how persons could take so much pleasure in the didactic 
essays, and become so much charmed with what they 
called ' the beauty of the style.' No abstract thought of 
any kind had for me the least attraction. I remember, 
with perfect distinctness, the time when I first became 
conscious of a decided change in my whole intellectual 
character. I was sitting by a window, in an attic room 
which I occupied as a sort of study, or reading-place, and 
by accident I opened a volume of the Spectator — I think 
it was one of the essays forming Addison's critique on 
Milton — it was, at any rate, something purely didactic. I 
commenced reading it, and, to my delight and surprise, I 
found that I understood and really enjoyed it. I could 
not account for the change. I read on, and found that 
the very essays, which I had formerly passed over without 
caring to read them, were now to me the gems of the 
whole book, vastly more attractive than the stories and 
narratives that I had formerly read with so much interest. 
I knew not how to account for it. I could explain it on no 
other theory than that a change had taken place in myself. 
I awoke to the consciousness that I was a thinking being, 
and a citizen, in some sort, of the republic of letters. 

" I began the Spectator, and read it through, omitting, 
for the most part, from choice, the parts which I had 
formerly admired. From Addison I turned to Johnson, 
and read the Rambler with great satisfaction. My chosen 
book, however, for some time, was the Lives of the 
Poets, which I read and re-read with delight, transcribing 
the passages which struck me as worthy of special notice. 
I found that novel reading unfitted me for study, or any 
form of improvement, and I abandoned it altogether. I 
think that, for ten or fifteen years, I never looked into a 
novel. Indeed my taste for this sort of reading was from 
that time finally destroyed. For many years past I have 
not been able to get through a novel. The interest which 
fiction excites in me is painful. I do not like to read of the 
horrors of a shipwreck, or of any great disaster, or of in- 
tense suffering from any cause whatever. Why I should 


take pleasure in narratives of fictitious suffering, I cannot 

" My reading liencefovth was restricted to works of 
standard excellence. I found out what was meant by 
beauty of style, and I derived great enjoyment from it. I 
now looked back on my college course with unfeigned 
regret. I saw what I had lost, and I deeply regretted 
that my education had not been delayed until I should 
have been capable of understanding, of appreciating, and 
of loving what I studied. 

" I believe that many of our American students, whether 
in the higher schools or in college, suffer as I did. Parents 
and instructors often err egregiously. All that is sought 
is to enable the pupil to repeat the words of the text-book, 
without inquiring whether he is able to comprehend them, 
or to form from them any conception whatever. The 
result is, that we see boys, and even children, pursuing 
studies that can be comprehended only by adults. The 
time is worse than wasted ; for not only is no knowledge 
acquired, but the habit is formed of reading without under- 
standing — a habit which, once formed, is apt to continue 
through life. 

*' Thus, from obsen-ation both of myself and of others, 
I have been led to suppose that there are several changes 
in the intellectual growth of the person who is blessed 
with the benefits of education. At first the human mind 
can think only by the assistance of sensible objects. The 
infant can be occupied only with something to play with. 
Its ball, its toys of whatever kind, are the only things it 
can think about, or which can form its materials for 
thinking. As it grows older, it can use pictures, or the 
representatives of its toys, or of the tWngs which it sees. 
Hence the intense love of children for picture-books, and 
the necessity for using them, or something like them, in the 
education o( children. As the mind advances, it can form 
pictures for itself by the aid of the imagination. This is 
the era of narrative. Travels, stories, novels, are read 
with avidity. It is not until the mind is fully expanded, 
that we can think without an image, either visible or 
conceived, that is, can use abstract thought in thinking. 
Until this period has arrived, abstract study is of no possi- 
ble advantage, but is rather an injury. 

" I am aware that tliis period arrives at varying ages 


with different individuals. I suppose that my mind was 
slow in developing. I have known or heard of per- 
sons who said that they read eagerly Stewart on the 
Mind when mere children. I can pretend to no such 
precocity. I was in my eighteenth or nineteenth year 
when I was conscious that the change to which I refer 
had taken place in myself. I suppose, moreover, that 
the full development depends very much on education. 
Savages remain children through life, and can think only 
of what is addressed to the senses. And of men at large, 
there are very few who have any considerable power of 
abstract thought. Hence the folly of presenting abstract 
ideas to a mixed congregation, in which only one in a 
hundred is capable of following the speaker. Thus did 
not Jesus Christ." 

The impression naturally made by the passages just 
quoted, that his mind arrived late at maturity, must be 
taken with considerable qualification. It has before been 
i-emarked that his tendency was to underrate himself. 
It was indeed a failing that leaned to virtue's side, pre- 
serving him from vanity and from a fatal reliance on the 
power of genius unaided by labor. His maxim, not 
unfrequently uttei'ed, was, " I always think that I can 
do what other men have done by taking two or three 
times the pains they have taken." But as a matter 
of history, those who remember him in youth, as well as 
those who have heard older persons express the opinion 
which they early formed of him, vary widely in their 
testimony from his language. One who knew him per- 
haps two years later,* writes, — 

"■ His bright intellect and his strong traits of character 
interested us very much from the first, and we regarded 
him as destined to exert a permanent influence upon 
minds. We I'emarked especially his high mental stand- 
ard, his good sense, his wit, his originality, and the almost 
crystal clearness of his perceptions." 

The positions which he filled in very early manhood 
(often presiding over and instructing those much his 

* Mrs. Dr. Cornelius. 



seniors), as well as his early works, will probably have 
more weight than his statements given above. -Perhaps 
we should present the matter correctly by saying that 
though his mind exhibited no traces whatever of earlv 
precocity, yet when it began at last to develop, it reached 
almost at once the vigor and the proportions of intel- 
lectual manhood. The following letter, written when 
he was eighteen, to a sister tv^^o years younger, certainly 
gives no indication of a want of maturity. It may indeed 
be questioned whether it docs not almost painfully im- 
press us as the production of one on whom manhood had 
come too early. We could wish that there were more of 
boyishness in it even at the expense of something less 
of wisdom. The letter is also interesting: from the evi- 
dent proof it gives of his strenuous efforts after self-im- 
provement. In parts it differs but little from an essay, 
under an epistolary disguise. 

" New York, November 28, 1814. 

"... As I know of nothing new, I will fill my letter 
with something old ; and at this time I will make a few 
observations on the acquisition of knowledge. The ac- 
quisition of knowledge is truly the acquisition of power 
or influence. People of every description give involun- 
tarily the tribute of reverence to those who are better 
informed than themselves. But to you, who know the 
value of information and the superior standing which 
learning gives, it is needless to argue this point. The 
question is, Plow is this knowledge to be obtained? 
This may, indeed, aj^pear to be a question, but in truth 
there is no question about it. You and I, and every one 
else, can obtain knowledge enough to entitle us to respect, 
if not preeminence, if we only ardently desire it. Books 
are not wanting. History, chemistry, moral and philo- 
sophical essays, you can procure as often as you desire to 
I'ead. But you complain of want of time. Think of the 
old adage, ' Take care of the pence and the pounds will 
take care of themselves.' Believe me, my sister, this is 
emphatically true respecting time. If all the quarters of 
an hour were occupied, which you and I spend in looking 


at our fingers, or in waiting for this thing or that, time 
would not be wanting: we should not complain of there 
not being time to read. Now, do think of this, and spend 
some time, be it ever so small, in interesting or instruc- 
tive reading. That you have time enough to read I am 
convinced, from the fact that you once in a while find 
time to read a novel. Let this little time be spent in 
instructive reading : do not care so much to read a good 
deal, as to read well and thoroughly. But this is not 
enough : not only read, but write : memory is at best 
treacherous. You can remember but very few particulars 
(and these very imperfectly) by simply reading. You 
must also write down, in a book kept on purpose, every 
striking sentiment, elegant expression, or instructive 
anecdote. They will by degrees associate themselves 
in your mind, and tincture your conversation. You 
would, of course, frequently read over these notes, and 
every reading will imprint them strongly in your memory. 
If you want to relate an appropriate anecdote, you will not 
then, as is often the case with people, stammer through 
half of it, forgetting the dates, &c., and then break otF 
with saying, ' I have forgotten the rest.' You will be- 
come well informed in a short time. This is the way 
Rush, Clinton, and many others have amassed knowl- 
edge that has astonished the world. The moment after 
Dr. Rush had been in conversation with a friend, he 
retii-ed to his closet and wrote down every idea which was 
new or interesting. Do not think I want you to be a 
pedant. I do not expect you to become a Johnson in 
conversation. Small talk is necessary : every one who 
lives in the world must use it, and you must also. But 
let your small talk be in elegant or appropriate and ex- 
pressive language; and the means I have advised will 
produce this effect. Another means of acquiring knowl- 
edge is conversation ; and to this end, as I told you 
before, associate with those superior to you in age and 
reading. I am confident, from your standing in society, 
that you can associate with persons of learning. As- 
sociate with them and profit by it. You can easily find 
some friend who will read with you, and converse over 
your history, essays, &c. Improve in knowledge. Do 
not be afraid of a sneer. A sneer proves nothing ; and I 
am well convinced that when your sex laugh at a girl of 


reading, it is mostly because they envy her. Write soon, 
and write a more correct and better letter than this. I 
would write this over, and very much alter the phrase- 
ology, but I must go to lecture immediately. However, 
you have read the Elements of Composition, and it perhaps 
would be an instructive exercise to criticise all the bad 
sentiments and incorrect sentences, and send me your 
critique on it." 

It was during the period of his medical studies in Troy 
that Mr. Wayland formed the acquaintance of two persons, 
whose influence he regarded as invaluable. The young 
man is happy, who, in the hour of his mental regeneration, 
finds friends, that by their intelligent and congenial sym- 
pathy nourish into energy the feeble pulsations of his 
newly-awakened intellectual life. !Many a man of subse- 
quent eminence can recall the acquaintance of some one 
more advanced in years than himself, sometimes of his 
own, but oftener of the other sex, from whom he feels 
that he learned, at that particular period, more than books 
had or could have taught him, or rather, perhaps, who 
gave to his books and to his past acquirements a meaning 
and a value that they never had before. If we do not 
mistake, the person from whom this intellectual stimulus is 
derived is generally found outside the limits of one's own 
family circle, perhaps because his mind moves more free- 
ly when he is not in the presence of the parents whom he 
traditionally regards as immeasurably above him ; per- 
haps because strangers are more likely to treat his opin- 
ions with respect, and to encourage their utterance, than 
are those who have heard his childish lispings, and hence 
can scarcely believe that sentiments of any great value 
can proceed from the lips which they associate with the 
babblings of infancy and the petulance of boyhood. He 
WTites, — 

" I have spoken of the change which took place in my 
character as I passed from boyhood to manhood. I be- 
gan at once to form opinions for myself, to judge of things 



from my own point of view, to read works of literature 
with a pure appreciation of their beauty, and to become 
deeply interested in general views of human nature, and 
the biases and tendencies of humanity. The world im- 
material seemed to be unveiled to me, and I began to see it 
with other eyes and to hear it with other ears. It was 
at this time that I became acquainted with Dr. William 
Stoddard and his wife, Mrs. Lavinia Stoddard. The for- 
mer was a graduate of Yale College, who had studied 
medicine, and was a well-read and able ph3'sician. He 
had not, however, practised his profession, but had pur- 
sued a literary life, and had devoted himself to teaching, 
in which he, with his wife, was engaged when I knew 
them. He was a good linguist, and a highly educated 
man, of unusual conversational power — a man whom you 
could not fall in with by accident anywhere without per- 
ceiving that he was a person of decided talent. Mrs. 
Stoddard was one of the most remarkable women I have 
ever known. Her face was not handsome, and derived 
its interest alone from the workings of the soul within. 
Her figure was small, and not remarkable for symmetry. 
She possessed an intellect, however, capable of any 
amount of acquisition, and able to master with ease any 
conception. With these endowments were united a power 
of expression and an ability to do anything which she 
determined to accomplish. A shrewd judge of character ; 
forming her opinions for herself, and bold in the expres- 
sion of them ; seeing at a glance through all shams, and 
loving sincerely whatever was true and good, — she was 
withal a perfect woman. All was delicate and i-efined, 
while all was pure, true, and lovable. Coleridge some- 
where remarks that in every really great man there are 
to be seen some of the feminine elements. I think that 
the converse is true. In the most remarkable women 
there are always to be found some elements of the sterner 
sex. In order to render the intercourse of social life per- 
fect, both parties must have something in common. The 
woman cannot confide in the man unless he can sympa- 
thize in her tendei-ness, nor can the man counsel with the 
woman unless she can, in some measure at least, look 
upon the actual world as he looks at it, or can partake 
ot his views as to the mode of accomplishing an object. 
Mrs. Stoddard had all that was masculine in intellect 



without hardness, and all that was tender and humane 
without a trace of feebleness or sentimentalism. 

" Having by some means, I know not how, become 
acquainted with them, I admired their characters, and 
was deeply impressed with their powers of conversation. 
I was surprised to see that they took an interest in me. 
To be admitted into the intimate society of two such per- 
sons formed an era in my life. I began to think that 
there was some latent power in myself, if such persons 
treated me as a junior equal, and thought my opinions 
worthy of discussion, and even of respect. With Dr. S. 
I discussed medicine, the classics, and whatever in my 
daily studies seemed of interest ; and with both of them I 
conversed on literature, biography, and all that was then 
rising into importance before my mental vision. Such an 
intimacy was worth all the rest of Troy to me, and I so 
esteemed it. I now look back upon it as one of the most 
fortunate incidents of my life. I do not know but it was 
worth more to me than all I had received from my college 
education. As my mind was emerging from the dim and 
obscure notions of boyhood, to be introduced to two such 
persons, of mature age and high intellectual accomplish- 
ment, by whom every growing intellectual impulse would 
be not only stimulated, but, w^hat was of more consequence, 
rightly directed, was of inestimable value." * 

The intellectual regeneration by which he passed from 
boyhood to maturity had taken place. But a change was 
at hand, more profound and divine. He writes, — 

" In due time I received my license to practise medi 
cine, and was considered, I believe, a promising candidate 
for professional success. I must now take my position in 
life. Thus far I had no decided religious impressions ; 
that is, no impressions which resulted in any moral 
change. My parents took pains to instruct their children 
in the doctrines of the New Testament, and also to im- 

* Dr. Stoddard, with his wife, subsequently removed, on ac- 
count of her feeble health, to the (then) Territory of Alabama, 
and there died. Mrs. S. did not long survive him. Dr. Wajland 
adds to his account of these, his early and valued friends, " If any 
of my children should ever meet any of their descendants, I beg 
them to remember their parents' kindness to me." 
VOL. I. 4 


press these truths on their consciences. Educated in this 
manner, I of course had a general knowledge of the truths 
of the gospel. I think, however, that the effect of this 
teaching was to some extent diminished by the views 
which my father then held. He was a very rigid Calvin- 
ist. The views which he then inculcated were, as it now^ 
seems to me, one-sided ; and he greatly changed them as 
he advanced in life, and read the works of Andrew Fuller. 
In speaking of his views as one-sided, I mean that he 
dwelt too exclusively on election, and the sovereignty of 
God, and not enough on the responsibility of man, and 
the fulness of the gospel. The impression not unfre- 
quently left on one's mind was, that man had only to wait 
God's time, and liad nothing to do until he was born of 
the Spirit. Such, I think, was the practical effect on my 
own mind ; nor did I completely escape from it, until I had 
been myself for some years a preacher of the gospel. 

" I believed the truths of religion, for aught I know, as 
fully as I do now. But my heart was unmoved. I had 
some wish to be a Christian, but I had no true idea of 
faith or repentance ; and all the theological illustrations 
which I heard seemed to involve the subject in deeper 
darkness. At times, when my purposes were crossed, 
my spirit, as I well remember, rose against the govern- 
ment of God. I knew that had there been any universe 
to which I could have fled, where God did not reign, I 
would at once have gone thither. But feeling my help- 
lessness, I sank back into forgetfulness. When 1 reflected 
at all upon i-eligion, I was miserable. But reading, con- 
versation, and the pleasures of youth generally drove 
these thoughts out of my mind. 

" At times the Spirit of God strove powerfully with me. 
I saw my danger ; I knew that there was but a step be- 
tween me and death, and that after death was the judg- 
ment. Dreadful as were these emotions, I am not aware 
that I ever sought to repel them, but rather to retain and 
even to increase them, hoping that thus I might be led to 
that change of heart which I knew to be essential. But 
in spite of me, they would go away, as they came, in- 
dependently of my volition, leaving me in a few days as 
indiflcrent as before. 

" I do not remember any sermon that did me any good. 
The preaching, then as now, seemed to me to be too 


theological, devoted to explaining some doctrine of the 
gospel according to a particular system, with but little of 
that warm interest in man's salvation that appears suit- 
able in the herald of a free and finished redemption. Oc- 
casionally I heard a plain man who poured out his soul 
in earnest for the salvation of men, and who affected 
me deeply ; but in general the preaching left me as it 
found me. 

" In this state of mind I continued until the close of my 
medical studies. It was now necessary that I should fix 
upon a place for my future residence, and enter on my 
course of life as a permanent arrangement, I had always 
had a decided impression that I should be a preacher of 
the gospel, and had frequently felt that my medical studies 
were only an incident in my life. After thinking fre- 
quently upon these things, it occurred to me that all my 
life had been spent in studies and labors which had no 
connection with my eternal destiny. The life to come 
had been practically ignored. I believed all that the Bible 
said of my condition and my danger. Jesus Christ came 
to save sinners ; yet I had never sought his forgiveness, 
nor had I ever made a single honest effort for the salva- 
tion of my soul. I had never for a single day in my life 
laid aside all other business, and earnestly sought of God 
the renewing influences of the Holy Spirit. This seemed 
to me most unreasonable, and I could not but think that if 
I wxre forever lost, the recollection of it would add in- 
creased bitterness to a ruined eternity. I resolved that, 
dismissing every other thought, I would devote one day 
to reading the Scriptures and prayer, that I might be 
able to say that I had at least done something for the 
salvation of my soul. I at once put my resolution into 
practice. I retired to my chamber, and spent a day in 
this way. I perceived very little change in my feelings, 
save that a sense of the importance of the matter had so 
grown upon me that I resolved to spend the next day in 
the same manner. At the end of the second day, I de- 
termined to spend still a third day in the same employ- 
ment ; and at the expiration of that day, I determined that 
I would do nothing else until I had secured the salvation 
of my soul. How long time I remained in this condition 
I do not now remember. I was embarassed by ignorance 
of the plan of salvation — an ignorance all the more em- 


barrassing because I supposed it to be knowledge. I had 
marked out for myself a plan of conversion in accordance 
with the prevailing theological notions. First I must 
have agonizing convictions ; then deep and overwhelming 
repentance ; then a view of Christ as my Savior, which 
should fill me with transport ; and from all this would 
proceed a new and holy life. Until this was done, I 
could perform no work pleasing to God, and all that I 
could do was abomination in his sight. For these emo- 
tions, therefore, I prayed, but received nothing in answer 
which corresponded to my theory of conversion. I de- 
voted I know not how much time to prayer and reading 
the Scriptures, to the exclusion of every other pursuit. 
This, however, could not be continued always. I re- 
commenced my usual duties, making this, however, 
my paramount concern. I attended religious meetings, 
and derived pleasure from them. I read only religious 
books. I determined that, if I perished, I would perish 
seeking the forgiveness of God, and an interest in the 

" At the time when I first resolved thus to seek in earnest 
the salvation of my soul, there was in none of the churches 
in Troy any religious interest. It was a period of unusual 
indiflerence to religion. But while I was in this condition, 
a very extensive revival commenced. I was deeply inter- 
ested in it, and attended all the meetings, hoping to hear 
something which would tend to my spiritual good. I 
found that I loved the doctrines of the gospel, that I ear- 
nestly desired the salvation of souls, and felt a love for 
Christians such as I never felt before. But I could not 
believe that the light which had gradually dawned upon 
my soul was anything more than what was taught by the 
precepts of men. Everything in religion seemed to me 
so reasonable, that all which I felt seemed to arise from 
the mere logical deductions of the intellect, in which the 
heart, the inmost soul, had no part. I met with the 
young converts, and with them engaged in devotion, but 
could not believe that the promises of the gospel were 
intended for me. 

" I remember at this time to have had a long and in- 
teixsting conversation with Rev. Mr. Mattison, a Baptist 
minister from Shaftsbury, Vermont. It was of the nature 
of an earnest argument, in which he endeavored to prove 


tliat I was a regenerate person, and I as strenuously con- 
tended that it was quite out of the question. I could not 
deny that there had been a change in me ; but the change 
had been so reasonable and so slight in degree, that I 
could not be a child of God. Yet the conversation did 
nie good. In looking back upon this period of my life, I 
perceive that much of my doubt and distrust was owing 
to the pride of my own heart. I had formed my own 
theory of conversion, and I did not like to confess that I 
was wrong. I wished to have a clear and coizvincing 
experience, so that I might never doubt of myself, nor 
others doubt concerning me. I desired to be the subject 
of a striking conversion, and was not willing to take with 
humility and gratitude whatever it should please God to 
give me. He in mercy disappointed me, and made me 
willing to accept his grace in any manner that he chose 
to bestow it. 

" Whenever I now have occasion (as I often do) to 
converse with persons in this state of mind, I do not 
argue much with them. I set before them the love of 
God in Christ, the fulness and frceness of the ofier of 
salvation, and the sincerity of God in ixvealing it to us, 
and I urge them at once to submit themselves to God ; 
not merely to be willing- to do this, but to do it. If they 
will do this, I know that God will accept them, and that 
the evidence that he has done so will soon be manifest. 
I also urge them without delay to begin at once to serve 
God, to do what they know will please him, to do good 
to others, to make sacrifices for Christ, to ask, with Paul, 
' Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?' and at once to do 
it. Only a few days since, a young lady, in this very state 
of mind, called to converse with me on the subject of 
religion. The Spirit of God had evidently been granted 
to her. Yet one of the first things she said to nie was, 
' O, I am sure I am not a Christian.' She had been 
arguing the question with herself, and was ready to do 
so again, instead of turning her whole heart immediately 
to God. 

"About this time (1816) Rev. Luther Rice visited 
Troy, to awaken an interest in the subject of missions.* 

* It is not necessary to remind those readers who are acquainted 
with the history of American Baptist missions, that Luther Rice 


He Staid with my father, and preached several times 
in the Baptist church. The work of missions and the 
scheme of subjecting the world to Christ, presented by 
one who had just returned from a heathen land, had all 
the effect of novelty. To me the subject had an intensity 
of interest which has never left me to the present moment. 
Mr. Rice was a man of decided ability, and a solemn and 
effective preacher. But in addition to this, he was a man 
who had given up all for Christ, burning with zeal to 
preach his gospel to the heathen, and appearing among 
us for the sole purpose of collecting means to carry on 
and extend this work. He was the only American who 
had gone out into the darkness of paganism and had 
returned to tell us what existed there. I remember well 
the effect produced on me by a sermon which he preached 
from the text, ' The glorious gospel of the blessed God.' 
For the first time in my life, I was constrained to believe 
that the sentiments of my heart were in harmony with 
the gospel ; that I loved God and all that God loved ; 
and that it would be a pleasure to me to devote all my life 
to his service. 

"An incident occurred which afforded practical confir- 
mation of these sentiments. I had an opportunity to earn 
something by medical labor in a small village south of 
Troy. It cost me many a mile of walking in the heat 
of summer. I was delighted to give all the avails to the 
missionary cause. Indeed, I do not know that I ever 
derived so much pleasure before or since from the expen- 
diture of money. I felt it to be an undeserved honor that 

was associated with Dr. Judson in his early aspirations and labors. 
He was one of the little band of students in Williams College who 
in iSo8 consecrated themselves to the work of missions. He was 
ordained, in company with Judson, Newell, Nott, and Hall, at 
Salem, February 6, i8i2, and sailed for India on the iSth. Hav- 
ing changed his sentiments on the subject of baptism, Mr. Rice 
was baptized a few weeks after Dr. and Mrs. J., and became con- 
nected with the Baptist Convention in America. He shortly after 
returned to this country for the purpose of awakening a mission- 
ary spirit among American Baptists, intending, as soon as this 
object was in some degree accomplished, to resume his labors 
among the heathen. Although he was not permitted to carry out 
this purpose, his labors in behalf of the cause in which he was 
interested, were invaluable. 


I was permitted by my labor to aid in any degree the 
salvation of men." 

His sympathies, however, were not expended upon the 
distant heathen to the neglect of souls near at hand. One 
who had known him from his boyhood (Mrs. Thompson, 
of Poughkeepsie) writes, — 

" I had a married sister living in Troy, and a younger 
sister (Rachel) was attending Mrs. Willard's school. 
When Francis was converted, his first visit was to talk 
with Rachel ; and it was the commencement of a new 
life with her. She died a few years after, one of the most 
heavenly minded saints I ever saw. If he had no other 
precious soul to reward his labors, this alone would be a 
rich harvest." 

Dr. Wayland continues in his reminiscences, — 

" Thus gradually I attained a hope that I had passed 
from death unto life. My pride was humbled, and I was 
willing to receive any light that God saw fit to give me, 
and in any manner that he thought best. I observed a 
change in my character. My mind at one time rebelled 
asrainst the doctrine of election. It seemed to me like 
partiality. I now perceived that I had no claim whatever 
on God, but that if I were lost, it was altogether my own 
fault, and that if I were saved, it must be purely a deed 
of unmerited grace. I saw that this very doctrine was 
my only hope of salvation, for if God had not sought mc, 
I never should have sought him. I had been ambitious 
of distinction among men, and had been looking for 
nothing beyond the grave. Now, worldly honors seemed 
to me trivial, and I desired to serve God. I thought this 
the highest honor. The cause of religion appeared dear 
beyond everything else, and I rejoiced in whatever told 
of its progress. I loved the image of Christ wherever 
I saw it, whether among the poor and the ignorant, or 
the rich and the refined. When a Sabbath school was 
organized in Troy, I at once offered myself as a teacher, 
and selected for myself out of all the school a class of 
coloi'ed boys, because I thought that they most needed 
instruction, and because this seemed to mc to be follow- 
ing out most closely the example of Christ. Observing 



all these changes in my feelings and choices, I could 
not but believe that God had bestowed upon me some 
of the marks of his children. 

" It will be seen, from what I have said, that there 
appeared to be a want of salient points in my religious 
history. Everything was gradual, and seemed to have pro- 
ceeded in the line of logical deduction. The precise time 
when a moral change took place in my character I can- 
not determine. I have had many seasons of religious 
declension and revival ; I have been harassed with many 
doubts of my state before God, and have rarely attained 
to that full assurance of faith which is the privilege of so 
many of the disciples of Christ. I have labored and prayed 
for it. If I know my own heart, I do really with pleasure 
submit myself and all that I have to God ; and yet I ever 
feel the want of the fervent love and adoring gratitude 
which I know is promised to the children of God, and 
which is the earnest of their inheritance. Yet I think 
that I can perceive in myself some evidences of spiritual 

" Perhaps, however, this state of mind, and these some- 
what peculiar exercises, may have been of use to others. 
If this has been the case, I am willing to bear the pain 
so long as it shall please God to call me to endure it. I 
have sometimes thought that I was able the more readily 
to sympathize with, to relieve, and to lead to Christ, those 
whose feelings were similar to my own, the number of 
whom is far from inconsiderable. I think also that I have 
been led to observe more readily the distinctive elements 
of the Christian character, and to separate them from 
those which are merely accidental. Of one thing, how- 
ever, I am certain. I used to think that from one's exer- 
cises at conversion, it was possible to determine, without 
doubt, the reality of a work of grace. I have learned that 
this is perfectly illusory. I have known several persons, 
whose exercises seemed of the most marked and satisfac- 
tory character, yet who soon fell into open sin, and died 
the avowed enemies of God and of all goodness. I see 
the necessity of cultivating with assiduous care the first 
dawnings of religious feeling, and of insisting strongly on 
practical obedience to God, ever remembering that this is 
the love of God, that we keep his commandments." 


Feeling that it was his duty to profess his faith in 
Christ, he was baptized and received into the fellowsliip 
of the Baptist church. 

" I was much attached to the profession of medicine, 
for which I had been prepared, and on the practice of 
which I liad in some degree entered. But as soon as I 
felt a comfortable assurance of my personal piety, I felt 
tliat my destiny was clianged. The preaching of the gos- 
pel seemed the duty to which I was to devote my life. In 
comins: to this decision, I had none of the trials to which 
many persons are subjected. All my previous reflections, 
with the education I had received at home, and tlie exam- 
ple of my father, had prepared me for it. I was ready 
at once to surrender my medical prospects, and to devote 
myself to the gospel of regeneration. But I also felt, 
that even had my inclinations led me otherwise, I could 
not but give m}self up to the ministry, without sin- 
nino- against God. It mattered not what I should sub- 
stitute in the place of it ; I could not ask the blessing 
of God on anvthiuGT else. I felt assured that God would 
overturn all my plans, and leave me to myself and 
to the fruits of my devices, unless I obeyed him in this 
thing. I was thus shut up to one course, and only one. 
I dared not disobey God, nor could I enter upon any occu- 
pation on which I could not ask his blessing. My duty 
seemed plain, and the providence of God opened the way 
which I was to pursue." . 

His change of moral purpose, and surrender of his 
heart to God, had been the cause of great thankfulness 
to both his parents, who saw the answer to many hours 
of tearful supplication. And although his worldly pros- 
pects in the profession for which he was prepared were 
most flattering, yet they gladly saw him abandon them 
at the impulse of duty and of gratitude to God. The 
surrender of worldly interests was the more considerable 
from the fact that at this time the circumstances of his 
father had become very much straitened, alike by the 
financial losses before alluded to, and by his withdrawal 
from the pastoral charge of the Baptist chmxh in Troy. 


It was not without great effort and economy that he could 
provide for the large family which remained at home ; 
and it was quite impossible for him to afford much aid to 
his oldest son in his further studies. 

" But how was I to enter upon the work of the minis- 
try? I had no practice as a public speaker; I was but 
very imperfectly acquainted with the Scriptures. How 
should I be prepared for this great undertaking? " 

The opportunities for theological study at that time 
were very limited. No seminary had been established 
by the Baptist denomination. Rev. Dr. Chaplin, subse- 
quently president of Waterville College, a clergyman em- 
inent for piety and for sound judgment, was giving instruc- 
tion to some candidates for the ministry, at his residence 
in Danvers, Massachusetts, as was also the eloquent Dr. 
Stoughton, at Philadelphia. But Dr. Burritt, and many 
friends of the family in Troy, vu'ged the advantages of the 
Seminary at Andover, then just entering on the ninth year 
of its usefulness ; while others suggested the Seminary at 
Princeton, which had been established four years previ- 

While the matter was under advisement in the fam- 
ily councils, Rev. Elias Cornelius visited Troy, for the 
purpose of awakening an interest in foreign missions. 
With this faithful minister of Christ, afterwards widely 
known as Secretary of the American Education Soci- 
ety and of the American Board of Commissioners, Mr. 
W^ayland became acquainted. Upon learning his state 
of mind, Mr. C. strongly advised him at once to re- 
pair to Andover. He assured him that his Baptist 
sentiments would be respected, and that he would be 
welcomed to every advantage which the Seminary and 
its eminent professors could offer. Mr. C. also, on behalf 
of his own personal friends at Andover, promised to him 
whatever advice, aid, and sympathy would naturally be 
desired by a stranger. For these timely words, and for 


the manner in which these pledges were more than ful- 
lilled, Mr. Wayland never ceased to feel a deep sense of 
gratitude to Dr. Cornelius. Accepting these kind and 
providential offers, " I closed," he says, " my little affairs 
at Troy, and set out for Andover in the autumn of 1S16." 
Hitherto he had been absent from his father's house only 
for short journeys, and in expectation of a speedy return. 
He now left it to go among entire strangers, to a place dis- 
tant about four days' travel — left it never again to be 
permanently a member of the household. The scanty fa- 
cilities for travel and for communication by letter rendered 
the separation more complete than now takes place when 
a son removes from New England to Colorado. One of 
his sisters writes, " Andover seemed a great way off'. He 
took the stage from Troy at one o'clock in the morning. 
Our parents, and all of the children, even the youngest, 
were up to say ' good by.' Father's blessing, and mother's 
emotion, too strong for utterance, and our tears, and his 
kind farewells, and promises to write to us often — all these 
are vivid before me. The shutting of the coach door 
resounds now in my ears ; and I remember our departure 
to our rooms, and our restless tossings and weary hours 
till morning, and the vacant seat at breakfist, and the 
sense of loneliness which our mother's forced cheerfulness 
could scarcely enable us to overcome." 





'T^HE traveller of to-day breakfasts in Troy, and sees the 
-»- sun set behind the hills of Andover, a thriving town 
of nearly four thousand inhabitants. What the journey 
was fifty years ago, is indicated in the following letter to 
his parents, dated Andover, November 8, iSi6 : — 

" Through the kind mercy of an indulgent Providence, 
I arrived here yesterday at about two o'clock P. M. On 
Saturday morning (having left Troy at one) I left Albany 
at two o'clock, and at seven P. M. arrived at West Spring- 
field. On the Sabbath I went to hear Dr. Lathrop, but 
found in his place a young licentiate, a very indifferent 
preacher. Sabbath afternoon I spent in East Spring- 
field, about two miles south of the former, and across the 
Connecticut River. The stages had altered the time to 
begin their winter route, and in consequence I was obliged 
to ride to Brookfield on Monday, in a one-horse wagon, 
and remain there for the night. On Tuesday morning I 
again took the stage, and arrived in Boston at about seven 
in the evening of as dreary and rainy a day as you have 
ever seen. I soon found out Mr. Winchell's ; it was 
near the stage-house. The fiimily received me with 
hospitality. I staid with them till I left Boston. I 
took breakfast at Mr. Sharp's yesterday morning. Pie 
treated me with much friendship, as did Dr. Baldwin. 
Tliey all appear well pleased at my coming to Andover. 
Mr. Paul, you may have heard, has arrived from Europe.* 

* Rev. ThomasPaul (a colored man) was a Baptist minister, much 
respected in Boston. At the time alluded to, he had just returned 
from England, where he had been to take possession of some 


I took dinner at his house, with several gentlemen, the 
clay before I left Boston. It was the most sumptuous 
entertainment that I ever partook of. 

"• I rode up here in the stage with Professor Stuart. 
As soon as I reached the stage-house a message arrived 
from Dr. Woods, that if any gentlemen wished to enter, 
they were desired to come to his house. I accoi'dingly 
went, and presented my recommendatory letters. He 
read them, examined me on a sentence of Greek and 
Latin, and in a few words on my religious exercises, and 
said that he should have no hesitation in entering me. I 
accordingly became a member of the institution in less 
than half an hour from my arrival in town. The pro- 
fessors are employed in examinations, and have not yet 
commenced lecturing. They probably commence to-mor- 
row. I have procured a room, and am within the last 
hour settled. This morning I saw Mr. Cornelius, who 
introduced me to his friend. Miss H., to whom I had a 
letter of introduction from Mrs. K. She and her mother 
treated me with the greatest kindness, and have prom- 
ised to render me assistance about furnishing my room, 
which will be a great favor. 

" I find one Baptist brother here, Mr. Ira Chase, who 
appears to be a very pious and excellent man, and one of 
the best scholars here. I am very much pleased with 
what I have seen of the institution. Through the merci- 
ful providence of God, nothing has occurred of an im- 
pleasant nature since I set out, except the delay, and that 
was undoubtedly for some wise purpose. I have the 
ofreatest reason to bless God for all his benefits. All that 
I want is a grateful heart. I have found friends whenever 
I needed them, and have been preserved through every 
danger in good health." 

property bequeathed to him by an English gentleman, whom Mr. 
P. had greatly befriended when the former was a stranger and 
sick in this country. On the occasion referred to, Mr. P. enter- 
tained at his house the leading Baptist ministers and laymen of 
the city and neighborhood. The son of Mr. Paul has been a 
successful and esteemed teacher in Providence and in Boston. It 
was always a source of pleasure to Dr. Wayland to show the son 
any kindness by which he could evince the respect in which he 
had held the father. 


The Andover of that day was a small and very scat- 
tered village, having three stores in the space of three 
quarters of a mile, and " not even a shoemaker's or a 
blacksmith's shop that I have perceived." " The institu- 
tion is a plain four-story brick building, containing thirty- 
two convenient rooms, or about that. The dining-hall is 
outside of the house. We board, as students ought to, 
with the greatest plainness and simplicity." 

Upon the catalogue of 1S16-17 are the names of 
sixty-seven students. Among them were Ira Chase, Joel 
Hawes, Alvan Bond, Pliny Fisk, Miron Winslow, Hiram 
Bingham, Theodore Clapp, Orville Dewey, Luther T. 
Dimmick, Jonas King, Henry J. Ripley, Worthington 
Smith, and Joseph Torrey. With all his fellow-students 
he enjoyed kind and fraternal relations, and had the pleas- 
ure, at times, of ministering to the slighter bodily ailments 
of some of them, as well as to those of a few families 
residing near the Seminary. He esteemed it a privilege 
to repay, in some imperfect degree, by his medical skill, 
the kindness which he, a stranger, and of another com- 
munion, constantly received from the members, officers, 
and friends of the Seminary. 

The faculty consisted of Dr. Ebenezer Porter, Professor 
of Sacred Rhetoric ; Dr. Leonard Woods, Professor of 
Christian Theology ; and Dr. Moses Stuart, Professor of 
Sacred Literature. With Dr. Porter and Dr. Woods the 
Junior class came in contact mainly at the " Professors' 
Conference." This exercise occupied an evening in every 
week (or fortnight), and was conducted in turn by the 
several professors. After the regular lecture, opportunity 
was given for other members of the faculty, or visitors, 
to speak, and sometimes the students were invited to take 
part in asking or answering questions, or stating dif- 
ficulties. We find among the papers left by Dr. Way- 
land, notes of many of these conferences, and sketches of 
the remarks of Dr. Woods, Rev. Dr. Spring, and Pro- 


fessor Stuart, upon " methods of becoming more engaged 
for souls;" "the mortification of a worldly spirit;" 
" heavenly contemplation," and kindred topics. In his 
reminiscences, he writes, "The value of these conferences 
was inestimable. I think they did more to keep alive the 
spirit of piety than any other service of the week." 

It was to Professor Stuart that the instruction of the 
Junior class was mainly committed. This remarkable 
man had entered six years before on the great work of his 
life, as an instructor of those who should interpret to man- 
kind the word of God. He was now thirty-six years old. 
Though he had not attained the renown which attended 
the publication of his letters to Dr. Channing, in 1819, 
and of his Commentaries upon Romans and Hebrews, 
yet it is probable that at no time of his life were his 
powers of acquiring and communicating knowledge more 
splendid. There was need of all the enthusiasm he could 
create, for the inspiration of the teacher must supply 
the place of text-books. In 1813, he had published a 
brief Hebrew Grammar without the vowel points. He 
was now lecturing to the class upon the Grammar with 
the points ; and these lectures, laboriously taken down by 
them, constituted iheir only text-book. The volume con- 
tainingr these lectures is before us. It is written in a 
clear hand, and the Hebrew is executed with singular 
care. During all of Dr. Wayland's early life, his handwrit- 
ing was entirely legible. As he advanced in years, and 
was forced to write much and very rapidly, one unused to 
it was obliged to study it attentively. Yet, at the worst, 
his hand was regular, and one who had mastered it was 
not troubled with finding the same letter made in a dozen 
different ways. 

In the New Testament, the class used Archbishop 
Newcome's Harmony of the Gospels, an edition of which 
had been published in 1814, by the Junior class in the 
Seminary, under the supervision of Professor Stuart. 


The interleaved copy used by our student is filled with 
notes upon the text, and suggestions taken down from the 
lips of the professor. 

He also wrote, under the direction of the same in- 
structor, dissertations upon many points of biblical criti- 
cism. However it may have been while he was at col- 
lege, not even he, his own most severe censor, could 
charge upon himself neglect of his advantages while at 
Andover. Dr. Stuart once said of him to a common 
friend, " He is an ingrained student." 

Of Professor Stuart his pupil never ceased to speak 
with attachment, gratitude, and reverence. In public 
and in private he acknowledged the debt he owed to " the 
instructor of his youth and the undeviating friend of his 
maturer years." At the semi-centennial celebration of the 
Seminary, held in 1858, by invitation of the committee he 
spoke upon the character and services of Moses Stuart. 
We quote a portion of his words, which exhibit the en- 
thusiastic admiration of youth, confirmed by the matured 
judgment of threescore. 

" You desire me, IMr. President, to speak of the char- 
acter and services of the late Professor Stuart. It would be 
impossible for me here to speak on any other subject. Since 
my arrival in Andover, after an absence of thirty or forty 
years, I can think of no one else. There were other great 
and venerable men who occupied the chairs of instruction 
while I enjoyed the benefits of this institution ; but Moses 
Stuart was my only teacher, for I left at the close of the 
first year, and his name is associated with all my recol- 
lections of Andover. As I look around me, he is ever 
present to my mind's eye. I see his long Indian lope as 
he strode over the plank-walk, on his way to the recitation- 
room. I gaze upon that ' bending lip that upward curled, 
and eye that seemed to scorn the world.' I hear the tones 
of that voice, which, more than almost any other that I 
remember, opened a way from the heart of the speaker 
to that of the hearer. I hear that laugh in sportiveness, 
or exultation, or defiance. I hear and see all this, as 


though it were but yesterday that I sat at his feet, and 
drank in instruction from his h'ps. 

" I well remember my fii'st introduction to the man to 
whom I owe so much. It occurred in the stage-coach, 
between Boston and Andover, when I was coming to 
enter the Seminary. Professor Stuart and the late Rev. 
Sereno E. Dwight were among the passengers. The 
conversation between these two eminent men turned 
mainly on the Unitarian controversy, which was then oc- 
cupying a large share of- public attention. It was well 
worth a journey to Andover to witness the movement 
of Professor Stuart's mind upon this question. While he 
spoke with the highest respect of the talents and learning 
of those from whom he diifered, the unshaken, elastic, 
and joyous confidence with which he held the truth as he 
believed it, stirred your mind like the sound of a trumpet. 
He was ready at any moment to enter upon the con- 
troversy, and to carry it to the utmost limits of exegetical 
inquiry. All he wanted was a fair field and no favor. 
All he wished was the triumph of truth, and he was ever 
ready to surrender any religious belief which he held, 
if he could not, on the acknowledged principles of inter- 
pretation, show that it was taught in the Holy Scriptures. 
He had examined the New Testament for himself; he 
knew what it taught, and he panted for a fit occasion of 
entering into the conflict. I could compare him to noth- 
ing but Job's war-horse : ' Pie saith among the trumpets. 
Ha, ha ! and he smclleth the battle afar oft', the thunder 
of the captains, and the shouting.* But in the midst of 
this constant confidence in what he believed to be true, 
there was not the remotest trace of malice or unkindness ; 
on the contrary, the tone of his mind was joyous, and 
even sportive. . . . 

" If I rightly estimate Professor Stuart, it was not in 
the more ordinary elements of mental character that he 
so much differed from other men. Like other men of 
decided ability, he was endowed with large power of 
acquisition, great acutencss, wide generalization, a very 
reteutive memory, and unusual soundness of judgment. 
It v/as not, however, to his preeminence in these that he 
owed his power. That which above all things else made 
him what he was, was an intense, unflagging, exhaustlcss 
earnestness, which obliged every faculty to seize with its 

VOL, I. 5 


whole power on every subject presented to it. No matter 
whether the subject were great or small, if he thought upon 
it at all, it was with an absorbing interest. Connected with 
this were instinctive exultation in success and mortification 
at even the fear of failure. To fail, after he had done all in 
his power to secure success, troubled him, whether in his 
garden or in his study. I well remember that on one 
occasion he needed a little assistance in getting in his 
hay, and indicated to his class that he would be gratified 
if some of us would help him for an hour or two. There 
was, of course, a general turn out. The crop was a sorry 
one, and as I was raking near him, I intimated to him 
something of the kind. I shall never forget his reply. 
'Bah ! was there ever climate and soil like this ! Manure 
the land as much as you will, it all leaks through this 
gravel, and very soon not a trace of it can be seen. If 
you plant early, everything is liable to be cut off by the 
late frosts of spring. If you plant late, your crop is 
destroyed by the early frosts of autumn. If you escape 
these, the burning sun of summer scorches vour crop, and 
it perishes by heat and drought. If none of these evils 
overtake you, clouds of insects eat up your crop, and what 
the caterpillar leaves, the canker-worm devours.' Spoken 
in his deliberate and solemn utterance, I could compare 
it to nothing but the maledictions of one of the old proph- 
ets. I trust that both climate and soil of this hill of Zion 
have improved since I last raked hay here in Professor 
Stuart's meadow. 

" The full tide of this earnestness was, however, re- 
served for the investigation of truth, as it is revealed to 
us in the Scriptures. To this every available hour of his 
life was consecrated. No earthly pleasure would have 
weighed with him for a moment, in comparison with the 
joy of throwing some new light upon a passage of the 
word of God. For this he labored, for this he prayed, 
for this he lived ; and one of the most animating views 
which he enjoyed of heaven was, that there he should 
know all divine truth with a spirit unclouded and unem- 
barrassed. . . . 

" We should have a very inadequate idea of the ear- 
nestness of his love of truth, did we not remember the 
difhculties which it encountered. Professor Stuart was, 
through life, a confirmed invalid, the victim of incessant 


dyspepsia, and of unconquerable sleeplessness. He was 
enabled to devote to study but three hours a day, and 
these were granted to him only on the condition that he 
consumed almost all the remaining hours in the struggle 
against disease. His sleep was always broken and inter- 
rupted, and if he spent an additional hour in study, he 
could not sleep at all. When the brief period of study 
was completed, he devoted himself to exercise, reading 
of books bearing upon his studies, as ti'avels, reviews, 
&c., or in conversing with his pupils. It was with so 
imperfect an organization that his intellectual triumphs 
were achieved. Most men would have considered high 
effort under such circumstances an impossibility, and 
would have relinquished the attempt in utter despair. 

" I have spoken of Professor Stuart as endowed with 
great accuracy of judgment. Here I ought, perhaps, to 
add a word of explanation. Like men of his strongly 
nervous temperament, the action of his mind was rapid, 
and his impromptu opinions were frequently erroneous. 
But when he gave himself time, and really did justice to 
himself, few men were, in fact, more reliable. This was 
in part the result of his large and varied knowledge and 
extensive observation, but more than all, of the noble 
unselfishness of his nature. I remember to have heard it 
remarked, that at the convention, some forty yeai^s since, 
for the alteration of the Constitution of this state, when 
the question was agitated whether the laws for the sup- 
port of religion, which created an invidious distinction 
in favor of Congregationalism, should be abolished, nearly 
all the oldest and wisest of the Orthodox clergy strongly 
resisted any change. Professor Stuart, almost alone, op- 
posed them manfully, and in so doing suffered somewhat 
for a time in the estimation of his brethren. He declared 
that the state had no right to interfere in the matter of 
religion, and that Congregationalists possessed no rights 
whatever which they ought not to share equally with 
Christians of every denomination. After the lapse of a 
few years, every one was convinced that he was right ; 
his elder brethren became converts to his opinion, and 
then no one doubted as to the far-seeing wisdom of Dr. 

" It becomes me more especially to speak of Professor 
Stuart as an instructor. It was my good fortune, through 


the latter part of my student life, to enjoy the instructions 
of two very eminent men. One yet lives, and at the age 
of nearly fourscore and ten, with his eye not dim, though 
his bodily force is abated, still presides over the institution 
of which for more than half a century he has been the 
most distinguished ornament. Claruni et vetierabile 
nomenl Long may he live to adorn and bless humanity, 
and to temper the brilliancy of eminent ability with the 
mild lustre of every Christian virtue. The other was 
Moses Stuart, whose name for so many years was a tower 
of strength to this institution. If I do not err, he was one 
of the most remarkable teachers of his age. His ac- 
quaintance with his subject in the class-room was compre- 
hensive and minute. There was no sacrifice in his power 
which he did not rejoice to make, if by it he could pro- 
mote the progress of his pupils. It seemed as if all he 
asked of us was, that we should aid him in his cftbrts to 
confer upon us the greatest amount of benefit. He 
allowed and encouraged the largest freedom of inquiry in 
the recitation-room, and was never impatient of any ques- 
tioning, if the object of it was either to elicit truth or 
to detect error. The spirit which animated his class was 
that of a company of well-educated young men, earnestly 
engaged in ascertaining the meaning of the word of God, 
imder the guidance of one who had made every sentence 
and every word in the original languages the object of 
special and successful study. This alone would have 
been sufficient to place Moses Stuart in the first class of 
instructors. But to this he added a power of arousing 
enthusiasm such as I have never elsewhere seen. The 
burning earnestness of his own spirit kindled to a flame 
everything that came in contact with it. We saw the 
exultation which brightened his eye and irradiated his 
whole countenance, if he had discovered some new use of 
vav conversive which threw light upon a phrase of the 
Old Testament ; or if, by some law of the Greek article, 
a saying of Jesus could be rendered more definite and 
precise ; and we all shared in his joy. We caught his 
spirit, and felt that life was valuable for little else than to 
explain to men the teachings of the well-beloved Son of 
God. If any one of us had barely possessed the means 
sulKcient to buy a coat, or to buy a lexicon, I do not be- 
lieve that he would for a moment have hesitated. The 


old coat would have been called upon for another year's 
service, and the student would have gloried over his 
Schleusner, as one that findeth great spoil. It seemed as 
though in his class-room we became acquainted with all 
the learned and good of the past and the present ; we 
entered into and we shared their labors ; we were co- 
workers with them and with our teacher, who was the 
medium of intercourse between us and them. We hung 
upon his lips in the lecture-room ; we coveted his say- 
ings in his walks or at the fireside ; and any one of us was 
rich for a week, who could report his obiter dicta, ever 
replete with wit, learning, and generous, soul-stirring 

" With all this love of inquiry, his discipline in the reci- 
tation-room was strict and exacting. He expected every 
man to be like himself, totus in illis^ and his expectation 
was rarely disappointed. His reverence for the word of 
God was deep and all-pervading. I remember but one 
instance, under his teaching, of any trifling with the word 
of God. The oflender, who was odd, opinionated, and 
constitutionally wanting in reverence, had read an essay 
which seemed intended to create a laugh. The rebuke 
which he received was such that we all quailed in our 
seats. I fancy that many years elapsed before such an 
experiment was attempted again. 

" I do not know that I can better illustrate the ef- 
fect of his teaching upon his pupils, than by stating my 
own experience in a single particular. My acquaint- 
ance with Professor Stuart continued until his death. He 
always treated me with peculiar kindness, and was fre- 
quently a guest at my house. He invariably addressed 
me, after my settlement in the ministr}-, as ' brother.' I, 
however, could never reciprocate it. I could no more 
have called him brother, than I could thus have addressed 
my own venerated father. 

'• Speaking of the kindness of Professor Stuart recalls 
another subject, to which I ask leave here to make an allu- 
sion. I came from what was then considered a distant 
jDartof the country, wholly unknown, and, as some of you 
may have heard, was then and ever have been a Baptist. 
Until I came here, there was but a single individual in 
Andover whom I had ever seen. The lines which distin- 
guished the denominations of Christians were more dis- 


tinctly visible then, than now. Under these circumstances 
the question may be asked, Was I treated with entire im- 
partiality? I feel bound to answer it with truth, and I 
must say that I think now, and I thought then, that I was 
not treated with strict impartiality. I think that because 
I was a stranger, and a member of another denomination, 
I was treated with a degree of kindness to which I had 
not the shadow of a claim, and which it would be base 
in me did I not here, in this public manner, thankfully 
acknowledge. I hope I have not forgotten the lesson, 
and I think I see in this assembly the faces of those who 
would testify that under other circumstances I have de- 
liglited to put it in practice. I need hardly add that this 
pai'tiality has continued unabated to the present moment, 
or I should not have been requested, in the presence of 
such men as I see before me, to speak in commemoration 
of my instructor and friend." 

It will readily be believed that life at the Seminary 
afforded but scanty material for narrative. The daily 
arrival of the stage was an incident ; the receipt of a letter 
from home (after a passage of ten days from Troy), or a 
ride to Boston to buy a stove, was an event. But his 
happiness, his real life, was in his study and in the lec- 
ture-room. The day on which he first opened Kuinoel, 
or became the possessor of Schleusner, the day on which 
Professor Stuart threw new light upon some utterance of 
the Lord Jesus, or reconciled an apparent discrepancy 
in the several evangelists, or pointed out a new in- 
stance of parallelism in the prophets, or enabled his rapt 
pupils to see the world of meaning that lay hid in a pat- 
tagh furtive, or a daghesh forte, — these were the epochs 
of his life. " It was at Andover that I first learned to 
study," he once said. This statement is not inconsistent 
with what he has said of his obligations to an earlier 
teacher. Mr. Barnes taught him to study as a boy ; to 
know accurately what was contained in the page before 
him. Dr. Stuart taught him to look beyond the page and 
the text-book, to inquire, to reason, to gather knowledge 


from various sources, and to pour its concentrated light 
on the interpretation of the revealed Word — to study as 
a man. 

And with his mind, his soul kept pace. The prayers 
of parents eminent for nearness to God hovered over 
him ; he was studying the Word wim the ardor of a 
heart newly informed with divine love ; he was associated 
with Christian teachers and pupils, and he trod daily the 
grounds, and entered the rooms, where had been formed 
and nurtui-ed the lofty purposes of the earliest American 
missionaries. Although now scarcely a year had passed 
since his conversion, he exhibited the traits of a matured 

Among his papers is one dated " Thanksgiving Day, 
November 28, 18 16." In it he recounts, with gratitude, 
the mercies bestowed, during the closing year, upon the 
country, the deliverance from famine, the freedom from 
foreign war and domestic division, the enlarged liberality 
and enterprise of the people of God, shown in the forma- 
tion of the American Bible Society, and in the diffusion 
of Sabbath schools, the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, 
the multiplication of revivals, and the blessing granted to 
missionary labors. He enumerates the divine favors shown 
to himself personally, the continuance of his life and 
health, his own conversion and call to the work of the 
ministry, the continued blessing of " very pious and pray- 
ing parents," and the conversion of one of his sisters. 

"But what return have I made for all these blessings?" 
He laments his spiritual deficiencies in terms that, to 
any eye but that of the All-seeing One, might appear 
exaggerated, and concludes thus : — 

" O Lord my God, I now come to thee for purification 
of this vile nature. Wilt thou be pleased in thy infinite 
mercy, through Christ thy Son, to purify me. O, wilt thou 
be pleased to give me greater views of thy holiness, and 
of my exceeding sinfulness. May I see more of the evil 
nature of sin, and hate it more thoroughly. I beseech 


tliee, show me thy glory. Give me such views of thy- 
self as shall effectually detach me from this evil world 
and from myself, and make me cleave to thee with full 
purpose of heart, I am unworthy of the least of thy fa- 
vors, and am full of self-righteousness and sin, the greater 
part of which, infinitely the greater part, I am totally blind 
to. Wilt thou be pleased to make me to examine myself 
carefully, prayerfully, closely, sincerely, and, if I am a 
hypocrite, wilt thou, in infinite mercy, convert me by thy 
grace, and sanctify my heart. O, give me more holiness 
of heart. Make me to love thee more, and to serve thee 
better than I ever have done. May my soul and all I am 
and have be thine forever. Give me greater knowledge 
of thee and of heaven. If it please thee, may I have 
some clearer evidence of my adoption, if I am thy child. 
Wilt thou forgive my coldness and neglect of thee, and 
all my sins. O, wilt thou shine into nty soul. Give 
me more knowledge of the Redeemer, and the way of 
salvation through him. O God, thou who art, as I would 
humbly trust, my Father, wilt thou hear this prayer for the 
sake alone of Jesus Christ, my Redeemer, to whom, to 
thee, and the Holy Spirit, shall be the glory. Amen." 

The following to William L. Stone, Esq., at that time 
editor of the " Whig," Hudson, N. Y., is the first of 
many letters addressed to one who afterwards became his 
brother-in-lav/, and a most valued and trusted friend. It 
exhibits his fidelity to one then unconverted, who was four 
years his senior, and yet more largely in advance of him 
in knowledge of the world. 

"... The same paper informed me of the death of 
Gouverneur Morris. So one generation passeth and 
another cometh. Gouverneur Morris is now in eternity. 
The place which once knew him will know him no more 
forever. His plans, schemes, desires, and aversions are 
forever departed. He has gone to answer for the deeds 
done in the body, whether they are good or evil. The dif- 
ference between a good being and a bad one, we were told 
by Dr. Woods the other evening, is, that the first lives for 
the honor and glory of God, the other does not. This 
aflbrds us a very simple test, whereby to try ourselves. 
. . . But whither am I straying? I was almost uncon- 



sciously led to this length, by the importance of the topic. 
If these hints should lead your mind to a serious train 
of thinking on these momentous concerns, I shall be 
highly gratified, and, I hope, suitably thankful. I trust, 
when you write, you will give me your thoughts on these 

To his parents, December 29, 1816 ; — 

" It is now with you Christmas holidays. We know not 
so much as whether there be any Christmas, in New Eng- 
land. I was busily employed in digging Hebrew roots on 
the day when you were rejoicing, and knew not, till even- 
ing, that it was tITe 25th of December. 

" I feel sensible that there is danger of growing cold in 
the things of religion. There is danger lest we, in love 
for science, lose the ardor of love for God. Critical inves- 
tigation is the same, unless sanctified, whether it be em- 
ployed on the Scriptures or on any other book. 

" When investigating the Scriptures, we are, however, 
more liable to be oft' our guard, and, of course, more 
exposed to temptation. This is the subject on which we 
have several times been warned by the professors. I pray 
(and I know that you will also) that God will keep me 
near to him, that he will give me such views of his 
glory as will completely abstract me from the world, and 
fix my thoughts, affections, and whole soul upon him. I 
have been the subject of many doubts and fears since I 
have been here ; at times ready to give up all hope ; when 
again I have dared to hope, frequently afraid that my 
confidence was unfounded ; equally afraid to oftend God, 
on the one hand, by my unbelief, and on the other, by 

His correspondence with his valued friends. Dr. and 
Mrs. Stoddard, maintained the intimacy and attachment 
which had previously been to him a source of so much 
profit and happiness. 

To his younger brothers, after engaging their attention 
by an account of his journey and a description of Ando- 
ver, he writes, — 

" But the principal object of this letter, my dear broth- 
ers, is to give you a warning on the important subject of 


religion. . . . Let me then solemnly advise you, first, make 
it a point, every morning and evening, seriously to pray 
to God that he w^ill preserve your lives and convert your 
souls. Do this solemnly, and do not just skim over the 
duty, but recollect you are addressing the God who could 
crush you in an instant. Second, let no day pass over 
your heads without taking up your Bible, and praying 
that God would instruct you and grant you his assistance 
in reading it. Then read a portion, not more, in general, 
than twenty or thirty verses, and try to understand the 
meaning of them, and recollect it. Third, strive to recol- 
lect constantly, that you are living for eternity. I hope, 
my dear brothers, the time is not long before I shall hear 
that you have become Christians." 

To his parents, January 31, 1S17 : — 

"... As to my medical practice, I gave all the pow- 
ders [alluding to some sent him, at his request, by Dr. 
Burritt] to a brother who had a long term of rheumatism. 
The students (among whom I usually exercise my skill) 
are generally poor. The greater number are, like myself, 
assisted by the funds of the institution. Of course I 
should not think of charging them anything. I would not 
think of practising in the town if I could. My time is so 
much taken up that I could no more do it than perform an 
impossibility. Before I came here I had no idea how 
closely my time would be occupied. I am, indeed, glad 
that it is so ; otherwise there would be too great a ten- 
dency to distract my mind from the grand object of my 

" Perhaps it would please you to have a brief account 
of the business of the day with me here. I have risen 
through the shortest days at six o'clock, nearly an hour 
before it was light enough to see to read. That is the 
time of the ringing of the first bell through the term. 
From six to seven is spent in private and family devo- 
tions. At seven the bell rings for prayers, which one 
of the Senior class conducts. The exercises are singing, 
reading a portion of Scripture, and prayer. Thence we 
repair to breakfast. From breakfixst till nine o'clock is, 
or ought to be, devoted to exercise. At nine we com- 
mence study, and study till half past twelve, when vvc eat 
dinner. From one to three, study. At three, recitation. 


This generally continues till prayers, at five. After 
prayers (in the evening by the professors in rotation), 
supper. After suj^per, a little exercise, and then study or 
writing till half past ten. From that time till eleven, de- 
votions ; at eleven, bed. Sometimes, however, we go to 
bed a little earlier. On ISIondays and Thursdays, we 
recite Hebrew ; on Tuesdays and Fridays, Greek. There 
is no skimming over the surface here. A man must go to 
the bottom, if he goes at all. 

" The recitations are not simply recitations of language ; 
that is a very small object. The main thing is to get the 
meaning, and find out the intent of every passage we go 
over. O that all my advantages may have a proper effect, 
and make me more humble, more sensible of my igno- 
rance, and more devoted to God ! O my father, could I 
have that holy faith, that love to souls, which the primi- 
tive Christians had, how happy I should be ! I hope that 
God will not sulTcr me to seek great things for myself, 
but will make me willing to be anything or nothing, in 
the wilderness or city, just as he shall appoint. 

" O, why should my dear mother be perplexed because 
clouds and darkness arc round about Him? God, my 
dear mother, is good to Israel. His faithfulness never will 
fail. What if, in a little anger, he has hidden his face? 
He has poured out upon us the very greatest of his 
favors. How great have been his favors to me ! Could 
they have been greater? Have we lacked anything? 
Has not goodness, has not the greatest mercy, followed us 
all the days of our life? God, with respect to my dear 
father, has not yet made his dispensations plain ; but that 
does not belong to us. He has made him the instrument 
of calling many sons to glory, who will be his crown of 
rejoicing in another world. Is not this enough? What 
if his dispensations, in infinite wisdom, interfere in a small 
degfree with our comfort? Should this distress us? Do 
we not deserve it? W^hat is our humiliation to that of 
Him who had not where to lay his head? ... I pray you, 
write frequently. I almost fear I love you, and my dear 
brothers, sisters, and friends, too much." 

To his sister, upon her marriage to Mr. Stone : — 

" Permit me, my dear sister, to wish you the greatest hap- 
piness, from the bottom of my heart. May you increase, 


during a long life, in piety, usefulness, and of course in 
felicity. In few words, may every gift and grace of the 
Holy Spirit rest upon you and your dear husband, to 
make you blessings to the world in time, and meet to be 
partakers with the saints in light in eternity. If I could 
say more to express my good wishes, I would : but how 

To his pai'ents : — 

"... Your letter containing fourteen dollars was re- 
ceived in due time. Permit me to thank you and the 
other givers for it. It arrived very opportunely. It has 
cleared me from debt, and brightened my prospects for a 
short time. I have some work in the library, which will 
probably bring me in about ten dollars ; this, as I shall 
board myself, will keep me during vacation. 

" Your letter conveying the intelligence of the death 
of my dear friend Mrs. K. was received. While I could 
not but be deeply afiected that God had removed a per- 
son whom I had ranked among the most affectionate of 
my friends, I felt a desire gratefully to acknowledge that 
unspeakable goodness, which had redeemed her soul from 
the terrors of the second death. This act of mercy and 
goodness will afford matter of praise to all eternity. 
When I left Troy I was much impressed with the situa- 
tion of my friend, and was enabled to talk to her, the last 
time I saw her, with seriousness, and I hope with some 
faithfulness. Her case was very frequently in my mind 
when I attempted to draw near the throne of grace. 
When the news of her dangerous illness reached me, it 
excited afresh my desir* and anxiety for her conversion. 
When I first came on, I wrote to her, among my earliest 
letters, and endeavored to press upon her the importance 
of an interest in Christ. When I heard of the goodness 
of God to her soul, you may imagine WMth what senti- 
ments of gratitude it inspired me. I could not but return 
my warmest thanks to Him vv'ho had made bare his arm 
to save her from going down to the pit. ISIay I not hope 
that the means which God in so much mercy enabled me 
to use, may have had some effect upon her mind. If he 
has used me as the least instrument, glory be to his name ; 
if he has not, he has done the work, and equal glory be 
his due. I have been led to reflect, since this mournful 


news, upon the goodness of God which enabled me to 
be faithful, in some small degree, in speaking and writing 
to her. For whether these means were blessed or not, I 
had the duty to perform, and should have been criminal, 
had I neglected it. I hope this will be a solemn warning 
to me, never to neglect the souls of my friends." 

To his pai'ents : — 

" With respect to keeping school, I have not as yet de- 
termined. I probably shall, when I go to Boston. Possi- 
bly a tutorship in some college would be the most eligi- 
ble situation that I could procure. I dislike to be a bur- 
den upon my Pedobaptist friends here for clothes. It 
is enough that they should furnish me board, and aid me 
as much as they do. I hope I shall be guided in the path 
of dut3\ Though it would be a disagreeable thing to be 
put back for a year, yet I think that I could look it in the 
face composedly." 

He mentions an opportunity which would offer for 
sending him a parcel, and adds, — 

" I hope you will give all of my friends notice of this 
opportunity, so that I may not receive less than twelve or 
eighteen letters. You have no idea of the gratification 
which a letter from home possesses for me in my isolated 

It will be remembered that this was when the old exor- 
bitant rates of postage (eighteen and three quarter cents 
on a letter from Troy to Andover) rendered correspon- 
dence a burdensome luxury, and caused opportunities for 
inexpensive carriage to be very welcome. 

It is painful to remark the evident depression pervad- 
ing this letter. He was far from his home, and as he 
wrote, on the last day of the session, all his classmates and 
associates were preparing to return to their homes for the 
spring vacation. He was poor and dependent, and, worse 
than all, had nothing definite to anticipate. 

He writes, in his recollections, " I left home with very 
small means. Although I used the utmost economy in 
Andover, these means were soon exhausted. Clothes 


wore out, and I had nothing with which to rephice them. 
Books were needed, and the purchase of them exhausted 
my Hmited resources." A Hebrew Bible and Lexicon cost, 
at that time, from thirty to forty dollars ; * but he expressed 
a hope of effecting some saving by importing a Bible from 
Germany. It was not on his imagination that he drew, 
but on his memory, when he described one of Stuart's 
pupils purchasing a Lexicon, rather than a much-needed 
coat. He once showed his sons a copy of Schleusner's New 
Testament Lexicon, in two volumes, bound in parchment, 
and said, " While I was at Andover I had ten dollars left. 
I was very much in want of a coat. I had an opportunity 
to buy this book for ten dollars, and so I went without 
the coat." 

The scanty supplies which reached him from home 
proved altogether insufficient ; there was no opportunity 
to earn any thing by labor while remaining at the Semi- 
nary. To the members of his own denomination in Nev/ 
England, who would perhaps have aided him, he was 

Though painful, the discipline of the year was not use- 
less to him. It impressed him with the need of depend- 
ing on his own exertions. It enabled him, in subsequent 
life, to sympathize with those who, in the face of adversity, 
were strivingf after mental culture. He ever held it alike 
a duty and a pleasure to aid those students who were 
in need, and who afforded evidence that help would be 
well bestowed. He thought that such assistance was best 
rendered, not by the indirect and often indiscriminate 
agency of an organization, but through the direct, dis- 
criminating contact of giver and receiver. An honored 
minister in a north-western state writes, " About my 
Junior year in Brown University, I had run myself full 
length aground, and could see no way of getting over the 

* It will be remembered that this was not long after the close of 
the war of 1812. 


bar. Short rations in my room took the place of board, 
and every draft on the treasury was met with, ' No funds.' 
At about the third watch of that very dark niglit, President 
Wayland sent for me to come to his room (not always the 
most welcome summons). When I entered, he lifted up 
his spectacles, and said, ' Well, H , how are you get- 
ting along? ' I made some sort of a reply. He varied the 
question continuously, until he had learned something of 
the state of my finances. Then he said pleasantly, ' W^ell, 

H , I think we must do something for you. Here 

are five dollars ; take this, and we will try to help you 
along.' I left, drawing a great deal less water than I had 
been doing, and soon found myself over the bar. Similar 
instances were too numerous to make this incident of 
value to any one but myself. With me it is pi^ecious. 
I knew him as the 'friend in deed' of the struggling 

It was probably amid these circumstances that he 
learned the meaning of the lines he used not unfrequently 
to quote from Beattie's Minstrel : — 

"Ah, who can tell how hard it is to climb 
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar.'' 
Ah, who can tell how many a soul sublime 
Has felt the influence of malignant star, 
And waged with Fortune an eternal war?" 

And the history of that year burned into him a deep and 
invincible horror of debt. Never again would he place 
himself in circumstances where he had not the means of 
meeting his liabilities. 

Shortly after writing the letter last quoted, and while 
weighed down by anxiety, he received a letter from his 
friend and former instructor, Professor McAuley, of Union 
College, who wrote, " When I had the pleasure of seeing 
you last summer, we had some talk of a tutorage. There 
will be a vacancy here next Commencement. Would you 
wish me to make application in your behalf? Nothing 


would give me more real pleasure than to have you here. 
And I think the thing practicable now." 

The correspondence thus opened resulted in his ap- 
pointment. In his reminiscences he says, " I have re- 
ceived many apiDointments since, some of which seemed 
important ; some instances of what men call good for- 
tune have happened to me ; but I cannot recollect any- 
thing of the kind that aflbrded me so much joy as this. 
It gave me the means of living ; it enabled me to pur- 
sue my studies ; and it was a sort of recognition of 
ability and acquisition, which I had never hoped for, but 
which was all the more gratifying." To his father he 
writes, — 

" I cannot but view this as a peculiar instance of the 
goodness of divine Providence. I imagine that I shall be 
much better fitted for the work of the ministry in con- 
sequence of the knowledge I shall have the opportunity 
of acquiring at Schenectady. Besides, every other door 
for support seemed closed. Want stared me in the face, 
and not with the most lovely aspect. ... I think I 
can save enough to enable me to complete my studies 
without embarrassment, and to purchase such books as I 
shall need. I hope also that I shall have something to 
give awa}'." 

At the close of the Seminary year he left Andover, 
expecting, at some subsequent time, to return and complete 
his theological course. The year thus completed had mo- 
mentous bearings on his character and attainments. The 
instructions of Professor Stuart awakened in him a love, 
hitherto unfelt, for exegetical study. The study of phys- 
iology and medicine he had previously pursued with 
interest and pleasure ; but languages he had studied, only 
under the pressure of discipline or from a sense of duty. 
Yet not philological study in general, but the study of the 
Scriptures, here gained a place in his regard that it never 
ceased to hold. The matchless expositions of Romans, 
of the Gospels, and of Ephesians, which he gave during 


his later years, in the college Bible class, in the university 
chapel, and in the pulpit and vestry, never could have 
been given, but for the year at Andover. 

We venture to quote a few sentences from Professor 
Park's admirable delineation of the character of Moses 
Stuart. It is not difficult, in the lineaments of the 
teacher, to remark the source of many characteristics of 
the pupil. 

" In his creed the Bible was first, midst, last, highest, 
deepest, broadest. He spoke sometimes in terms too 
disparaging of theological systems. But it was for the 
sake of exalting above them the doctrines of John and 
Paul. He read the scholastic divines, but he studied the 
prophets and apostles. . . . When he uttered censure, too 
severe perhaps, upon the abstractions of our divines, it 
seemed to be, not that he loved philosophy less, for he 
aspired after a true philosophy, but that he loved Jesus 

Wliile ascribing to his year at Andover a great and 
beneficent influence in preparing him for the destinies 
divinely appointed him, it would be uncandid to withhold 
the remark, that, in looking back from an advanced period 
of life, he was of opinion that there were liabilities attend- 
ing a course of study in a seminary which needed to be 
guarded against with peculiar care, particularly tlie ten- 
dency to attach a disproportionate value to the mental, and 
an inadequate value to the moral, preparation for the 
ministry. He also thought, that, great as are the facili- 
ties offered by a seminary with a learned and able faculty 
of instruction, there are advantages, by no means slight, 
scarcely attainable in a seminary, which are aftbrded by a 
course of instruction under a settled pastor of solid attain- 
ments and eminent i^iety. 

Allusion has i-epeatedly been made to the kindnesses 
received by him from all the members of the faculty, and 
from Mr. Cornelius, as also from Mr. and Mrs. Farrar, 

VOL. I. 6 


and from the daughter of Mrs. Farrar, afterwards the 
wife and widow of Dr. Cornelius. The fact that these, 
and so many of his early friends, instructors, and asso- 
ciates, — Dr. Nott, Dr. McAuley, Dr. Yates, Dr. Burritt, 
Dr. Nettleton, Dr. Wisner, and Bishop Potter, — were 
outside his own denomination, perhaps demands a single 
remark. His association with these brethren of other 
sects was, in one respect, disadvantageous to him. He 
was not known by the denomination to which he be- 
longed, and with difficulty gained a status among them. 
But this disadvantage was temporary, and had ample 

To these early associations, in part, he owed it, that 
he was not a Baptist traditionally, nor by sympathy mere- 
ly, but by conviction and scriptural argument. While no 
effort was ever made to proselyte him, yet it was unavoid- 
able that he should hear the views of the Pedobaptists 
stated in the strongest possible form, and as unavoidable 
that he should inquire into their validity. It is not known 
that the questions of denominational diflerence were ever 
brought to an issue between himself and his exegetical 
instructor, unless the following may be deemed an excep- 
tion. Professor Stuart had urged with much emphasis 
the statement that the form of baptism is entirely immate- 
rial, and that the temper of heart in the subject is the only 
matter of moment. " If such is the case," asked the pupil, 
"with what propriety can baptism be administered to 
those who cannot be supposed to exercise any temper 
of heart at all, and with whom the form must be every- 
thing?" a question, we venture to suggest, which will 
bear asking a great many times. As a result of the asso- 
ciation to which we have alluded, he held to the senti- 
ments of the Baptist denomination, not as the faith of 
his fathers, but as the effect of conscientious and intelli- 
gent conviction. 

But another result of this early and most friendly 



commingling with members of other sects, was a pro- 
found, broad, generous cathoHcity of spirit. He fully 
concurred in the sentiment of Andrew Fuller, that the 
points, in which evangelical Christians agree, ai'e more 
numerous and more momentous than those in which they 
ditier. There was not in his nature a single fibre of the 
bieot, or of the mere sectarian. To be the leader of a 
sect, was a purpose to which he never stooped. And on 
the other hand, few men have ever addressed the public 
who have had larger and freer access to men of all par- 
ties from whom he widely and resolutely diflcrcd. " He 
called himself, as he was, ' an old-fashioned Baptist.' But 
this positive and strenuous nature, with its clear convic- 
tions for itself, was singularly liberal and catholic. His 
friendship knew no church lines. His hand was joined 
with good men of every name, and he was fellow-citizen 
Avith all the saints."* (Rev. Dr. Caldwell's Discourse.) 
This liberality was traceable partly to the breadth of the 
nature which he brought from the hand of God, and which 
would not bear the confinement of sectarian limits ; in 
part, to the positiveness and strength of his own convic- 

* Scarcely any one, of whatever denomination, more rejoiced 
in the success of the missions of the American Board of Commis- 
sioners, of which body he constituted himself and his venerated 
father, honorary members. A gentleman in Providence remarked, 

" I was for nine years chairman of the committee of the 

Congregational Church, and whenever we fell into any difficulty, 
or needed counsel, the first man we went to was Dr. Waj-land." 
Not many months before his death, he attended the sessions of 
the Providence Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
and was deeply impressed with the earnestness of the ministry, 
the laboriousness of the bishops, and the many excellences in the 
INIethodist system of discipline. In 1S63 he read with delight and 
edification the charge of Bishop Mcllvaine, of Ohio, and circu- 
lated a large number of copies of that admirable and most evan- 
gelical discourse. And his last religious conversation, less than 
two days before the fatal stroke, was held with a minister of the 
Society of Friends. 


tions, which were so firmly, so intelHgently held, that 
they did not need to be reiinforced by bigotry, or sechided 
from the rays of a Christian and cathohc charity ; and in 
part, to his early surroundings. 

In allusion to the associations in which he was placed, 
both at Andover and at Union College, he writes, — 

^ " I was thus thrown into intimate intercourse with Chris- 
tians of all the most important sects. I think that this has 
had a material influence upon my subsequent opinions. 
I saw^ in the character of these eminent Christian men 
what is essential and what is incidental in the religious 
life. It has ever since been my happiness to be on the 
most intimate terms with Christians of every sect, with- 
out regard to denominational differences. I believe most 
strongly that the sentiments which I profess are, in their 
peculiarity, the teachings of the New Testament; but 
they seem to me to be small, in comparison with a tem- 
per of heart towards God and man, in harmony with the 
temper of Christ. I had written above, ' immeasurably 
small ; ' I have erased the word ' immeasurably.' This, 
as it was written, is true of the individual, but not of the 
church as an organized society. The special peculiarity 
of the Baptist belief is, that the church of Christ is really 
composed of none but regenerate persons, and that the 
visible church should, so far as our imperfect judgment 
will admit, be formed on this model. Pedobaptisin, in 
all its forms, tends to obliterate this grand truth ; and 
therefore, in this respect, I do not think the diflerences 
between us and others imtneastirably small." 




DR. WAYLAND writes in his reminiscences as fol- 
lows : — 

" I commenced my labors as tutor with but small literary 
capital. I had passed through college at a very early 
age. My instructors in language were generally tutors 
who had themselves been taught by tutors. I added but 
little in college to the knowledge I had acquired at the 
academy. During the study of medicine, I had scarcely 
read a sentence either of Latin or Greek. I had gained at 
Andover, but it was principally in knowledge of the Greek 
Testament, and in knowing what to aim at in the in- 
terpretation of that book. In such a course as that at 
Andover, it was not to be expected that the students 
should go back to the study of gi^ammar, though it must 
be confessed that this step would, in many cases, have 
been advantageous. But now I was called upon to teach 
the languages, paying at first the principal attention to 
grammatical forms. To these I devoted myself. I could 
find, however, but few books to aid me in my labor. 
The Westminster and the Gloucester Greek Grammars 
were then in general use. Goodrich's translation of 
Hackenberg was just introduced. The library contained 
not even a valuable Greek lexicon, and hardly anything 
better in Latin. I, however, commenced my work in a 
good spirit. The Freshman class was small. I taught as 
well as I could, having three recitations a day. I read 
with the class, the first term, a part of the first book of 
Xenophon's Cyropaedia ; the second term we finished that 
and read the second and third ; the third term we read 
five books. I awakened some interest in my class, and I 
trust my instructions were profitable both to them and to 



myself. In both my other studies I labored with equal 
assiduity ; and I think that by the close of the first year I 
had established a reputation for earnest and faithful teach- 
ing, and resolute disposition for labor." 

In his correspondence with his home, we can remark, 
increasingly, a tacit recognition of his position as counsel- 
lor of the entire family, not in the least assumed on his 
part, but somehow frilling to him spontaneously. 

To his brother D., who was em2:)loyed in a store at 
Albany, he writes : — 

" While I would scrupulously guard against anything 
like servility or meanness, I would strive to conduct in so 
obliging a manner to every one, that they sliould become 
my friends. The grand principle is. Do as you would, if 
placed in the same circumstances, wish to be done by. . . , 
You will probably be a merchant. I hope you will not 
limit your ideas simply to the buying and selling of cloth. 
You ought to be well acquainted with the geography, and 
particularly with the productions, of every part of the earth ; 
where the best of every kind of merchantable produce may 
be procured ; what events are likely to produce a change 
of markets ; and why an article is high at one time and 
low at another. Every scrap of knowledge, on sucli sub- 
jects as these and a thousand others, should be picked up 
by you and hoarded like gold." 

Of another brother he writes to his parents, — 

" What are you thinking of doing with J. ? I have been 
thinking of education for him." 

To his brother J., after speaking of study and improve- 
ment: — 

" If I had had an elder brother to direct me when I was 
at your age, it would have been of inestimable value to 
me. I wish to act towards you as an older brother ought, 
and all I want of you is to consider my advice, and if it 
appears good, follow it. When you play, play with all 
your might; when you study, study with all your might. 
Never be lingering, and v/aiting, and idly gazing around, 
while time, and especially while youth, is so short." 

To his sister, Mrs. S., who had lately removed to 
Hartford : — 


" You are now, of course, a stranger in H. ; you have no 
charade?-. You will understand what I mean. I mean to 
speak in the terms of conversation — no one knows what 
sort of a woman you are. This state is attended with a 
manifest advantage — that it is in your power to establish 
just such a character as you shall choose. Ask yourself, 
"therefore, what is that character. Fix it distinctly in 
your mind ; then decide what are the means for attaining 
it. For instance, you would wish to be amiable, and to 
appear so. For it is not enough that you are so ; you 
should appear so. Avoid, then, sedulously, all censori- 
ousness. Banish from your conversation all sharp rC' 
marks. An action seems praiseworthy : you may think 
you see some selfish motive concealed. Perhaps you only 
think so, and think so groundlessly ; would you, then, in- 
jure the reputation of an innocent person ? But if you are 
right, has society committed to you the office of censor? 
Are you obliged to perform the unpleasant task of mak- 
ing a disclosure which shall render the individual and her 
friends your enemies for life? Ah, my sister, it is much 
more difficult to make friends than to alienate them. I am 
rather particular on this head, as I think you, from your 
natural disposition, would, as well as myself, be likely to 
err in this thing. Again, you would wish to be, and ap- 
pear, discreet and prudent. You would wish to avoid 
saying things, which in twenty-four hours you would 
desire unsaid. Propriety, it must be premised, is to some 
extent a local thing : what would be proper in T. may be 
greatly improper in H. Of this you must inform yourself 
by close observation of the manners of the people, and 
silent remarks on their habits of conversation, and, above 
all, by learning to think before you speak. Reflect what 
may be the bearing of what you are going to say. Per- 
haps you may by doing this lose the opportunity of saying 
some witty things. But people are not loved for their 
witty sayings ; and a woman, always recollect, is an 
object to be loved, and not to be feared or gazed at. To 
be loved is, or ought to be, the ambition of a woman. 
... I am glad to hear that you like Mr. Hawes so 
well. I am pleased to find that he is so pleasantly set- 
tled. He is a man of very good mind, and of unques- 
tioned piety." 


During the second year, and during all the succeeding 
years of his connection with the college, he was called 
upon (in consequence of vacancies existing in the Faculty) 
to teach every class, and to teach almost everything that 
was taught in college. " Xenophon, Homer, and Lon- 
ginus, Tacitus, Cicero, and Horace, geometry, trigonome- 
try, algebra, and the various branches of mathematics, 
rhetoric, and chemistry, — these I well remember. I was 
thus enabled to review my college studies, to pursue them 
more earnestly, and under a much stronger pressure of 
responsibility, and most of all, to acquire some practical 
knowledge of mankind, in which I had been unusually 

At a subsequent period of his life, he was conversing 
with a brother in the ministry, who had held a number 
of public positions, and who remarked, " Wherever I have 
been, I have always been thinking of something else, and 
preparing myself for another position." Dr. Wayland 
replied, "I have gone on just the opposite principle. 
Whatever I was doing, I have always fixed my mind on 
that one thing, and tried not to think of anything else." 
He proceeded upon this plan while a tutor. He taught 
Homer as if this were to be his life-long work. Almost 
forty years afterwards, in speaking to a person engaged 
in teaching the Iliad, he alluded to Homer's choice of 
words, and to the importance of accustoming a class to 
remark the exact shade of meaning conveyed in each 
instance. "For example," he said, " //Tjrif , in the first 
line, does not mean wrath in general, but a special kind, 
a wrath long enduring, unquenchable." While a tutor, 
he wrote a course of lectures on rhetoric, illustrating all 
the points discussed by apposite citations from Johnson, 
Burke, Junius, and many of the classics in pi'ose and verse. 
During the time he spent as tutor, he read more exten- 
sively in literature than he was able to do in later years ; 
for from the time of his entering the ministry until his 

DR. NOTT. 89 

resignation of the presidency in 1855, he was engaged in 
pursuits so engrossing as to allow him but scanty leisure 
for general reading. He also prepared a course of lec- 
tures on natural philosophy. In 1S53 he wrote to his 
son, then a tutor, — 

" I would have you lecture to your classes all you can. 
I i-emember, when I was a student, the awe which was 
inspired by a lecture. I hardly could conceive how a 
man could get to be so great as to make one. But more 
than this, much instruction can be best given in this way. 
It keeps up the interest in a class. You need not be 
deterred because you cannot do it as well as the best. 
Those that now do it the best, once began by doing it not 
the best." 

We quote again from the reminiscences : — 

"I think that the greatest benefit I derived was from 
my intercourse with the gentlemen with whom I was 
associated. Of these, the most distinguished was Dr. 
Nott, then in the vigor of his remarkable powers. He 
was then, as always, very kind to me, and admitted me in 
many respects to a familiar intimacy. I have known him 
from that time to the present, as well as persons living at 
a distance can know each other. I think him decidedly 
the ablest man whom I have ever known intimately. His 
mind is in a remarkable degree original and self-sus- 
tained. Nothing in books seems to him of any value, un- 
less he has thought it through, and tested it by his own 
power of intellectual analysis. He possesses — what I sup- 
pose to be the mark of genius — the power of using his 
mind for any purpose, and turning it in any direction. 
He could have made himself distinguished in any depart- 
ment of science. I have known him to write very good 
poetry. He was, when in his prime, the most eloquent 
man I ever heard. He had a decided bias towards phys- 
ical science, and from his own experiments made himself 
fiimiliar with the most important laws of caloric. The 
number of patents which he has taken out attests his skill 
in invention. To him, more than to any other man, are 
we indebted for the rapid progress in the use of anthra- 
cite coal. His ability as a metajDhysician is universally 
admitted. His knowledge of men, and of the principles 


of human action, is unrivalled. I suppose that no man 
ever exerted so great an influence as he in the legislation 
of New York. With all this, he w^as the kindest, the 
most charitable, the most forgiving of men. His conver- 
sations on religion had the most splendid range I ever 
knew, varying from the sublimest conceptions to the ten- 
der simplicity of a little child. His executive talent was 
unsurpassed. He never seemed satisfied unless he was 
carrying on several kinds of labor, any one of which would 
have been a full and sufficient task for a single man of 
ordinary abilit3\ The attachment of his pupils to him has, 
I think, been eq^ualled only in the case of Dr. Dwight. 

" When settled in Albany, his reputation as a preacher 
was unparalleled. Those who heard his sermon on the 
death of Hamilton have always declared to me, that it 
was the most eloquent discourse they ever heard. He 
always wrote his sermons with care, and committed them 
to memory so perfectly that he was able to modify and 
vary the train of thought if he chose, though this, I think, 
he did not often do. When I once asked him how much 
time it took him to commit a sermon to memory, he 
replied, 'Just as much time as I have. The intermission 
between the services is enough, but I have committed a 
sermon by reading it over once.' He frequently spoke of 
the memory as capable of almost unlimited improvement, 
and said that he had attended a session of the New York 
legislature, when he had been able to report the day's 
proceedings with more accuracy than they were given by 
the salaried reporters for the press. 

" I do not think that his voice was remarkable either 
for clearness or for power. His gestures were not numer- 
ous, but always significant. He had the appearance of 
perfect self-possession, and of conscious power over the 
audience. So far as I can recall his manner after the 
lapse of so many years, the excellency which gave him so 
great power, was in the tones of his voice. I would al- 
most say, they were so perfect that a man who did not 
understand English would, from his tones alone, have 
been able to form an idea of the train of thought which 
he was pursuing. I think his style inferior to his ability. 
It was frequently involved, the several members of the 
same sentence sometimes standing at a distance from each 
other'; yet when he uttered the sentence, the emphasis, 

DR. NOTT. 91 

inflections, and tones were so perfect, that every part was 
distinctly connected with that to which it belonged, and 
j'ou never failed to co77ipreJiend his meaning perfectly. 
A sentence which you would read over twice before you 
understood it, he would so utter that you understood it 
all peifectlv. When to this were joined the tones of 
emotion adapted to every range of human feeling, you 
may possibly perceive what must be the effect. He had 
a short series of sermons on the resurrection, which I 
heard v.'hen I was tutor. I remember at the present time 
the effect of them. Each sermon seemed to the audience 
about twenty minutes long, though in reality nearly three 
quarters of an hour in delivery. I sat all this time per- 
fectly entranced, cold chills running over me from nearly 
the commencement to the close. When he uttered the 
'Amen,' the whole audience experienced a sensible relief. 
The strain of attention was so great that men hardly 
breathed, and as soon as it was over every one took a 
long inspiration, and felt that he could scarcely have 
endured the effort of concentration much longer. Per- 
haps we may ascribe part of the effect to my youth, and 
to my deep veneration for the speaker. I have endeav- 
ored to make known the effect of Dr. Nott's speaking on 
mc. I can also bear witness to the fact, that those of my 
friends, who at the time were in the habit of hearing him, 
had the same estimation of him as a pulpit orator. I 
confess that no one would receive this impression from 
his sermons as they are printed. They probably appear 
stately, ornate, labored, and artificial. But when they 
wei'e uttered by him, it was as I have stated." 

It was, perhaps, in the series of sermons just alluded to, 
that a passage occurred which Dr. Wayland has been 
heard to describe as excelling any other to which he ever 
listened, for dramatic power and effect upon the audi- 
ence. Dr. N. was exhibiting the absurdity of the suppo- 
sition that the apostles and early preachers testified falsely 
in bearing witness to the Lord's resurrection. He sup- 
posed them, after the death of Jesus, assembled to frame 
and carry out the monstrous deception. They consult, 
they send some of their number to invade the tomb and 


to remove the body. Presently the messengers deputed 
for this ghastly errand return ; they bring with them the 
helpless, stark, bloody corpse ; they cast it down before 
the apostles, exclaiming, in tones of contempt, " There 
is your Christ." And then the apostles go forth cver}'- 
where, bearing witness to his resurrection, proclaiming 
salvation only through his name, sealing their testimony 
with their blood, careless of reproach, of danger, ignorant 
of fear, welcoming death. The effect, as described, was 
overwhelming ; and powerful as was the appeal to the 
feelings, the argument was equally convincing to tlie 

Dr. Wayland adds, — 

" With all my admiration for Dr. Nott, I think I am 
not unaware of his errors. As the president of a college, 
he devoted himself to its material prosperity. Had he 
sought more to improve its means of instruction and to 
teach its teachers, so that these means might be well 
employed, I think his success would have been greater. 

" His power of influencing men led him also, I think, into 
errors. It led him to delight in doing things indirectly which 
might as well be done directly. No one rejoiced more 
in entire simplicity of character, or dwelt more eloquently 
upon this trait. Yet somehow every one was afraid that 
the thing which he seemed to be laboring for, or promoting, 
was not that which he really had in view. I speak here 
of the general estimation which has been formed of him. 
I never experienced anything of the kind myself. I always 
treated him with perfect simplicity, and he, so far as I know, 
entirely reciprocated it. I have thought, sometimes, that 
what seemed to others to be double-dealing and policy 
was nothing more than a far-seeing sagacity, which ena- 
bled him to look much farther than other men, and to pre- 
pare for events of which they never conceived, and that 
this sometimes gave rise to the opinion that he had been 
laboring to produce, what he only foresaw and provided 
for. I think that men of eminent sagacity are frequently 
misjudged in this manner. 

" An incident which I have often had occasion to re- 
member, will, perhaps, illustrate the singular foresight 



of Dr. Nott. Many years ago I chanced to be in New 
York,about the time of the disturbances which grew out of 
the aboHtion meetings that had been held in the city. 
Similar meetings were held, with similar results, in Bos- 
ton and Philadelphia. I passed through Schenectady 
shortly after, and of course spent as much time as I could 
with my old friend and instructor. These meetings natu- 
rally became the subject of conversation. I remarked, with 
regret, that the meetings had been disturbed, and insisted 
on the right of free discussion on every subject, but at the 
same time added, that the course of the abolitionists was 
such, their language so abusive, their proceedings so cal- 
culated to inflame the public mind, that it was scarcely 
possible, with any mere police force, to protect them. It 
will be remembered that their course was such, on prin- 
ciple, as to inflame the passions of men, and that they 
declared that they could arouse the public mind in no 
other way. Dr. Nott paused, and after a little while said 
in substance, ' Wayland, remember what I tell you. I 
may not live to see it, but you probably will. This is one 
of those questions that can never die. This agitation will 
spread from city to city until it involves this whole coun- 
try, and becomes the leading political question of the day.' 
Both he and I have lived to witness the fulfilment of the 

" To this remarkable man I owe very much. To no 
one have I applied so often for counsel, and from no one 
have I received advice so deeply imbued with Christian 
principle and far-seeing sagacity. There is no one whose 
maxims are so often recalled for my direction and for 
the government of ni}^ conduct. I last saw him at New 
Haven. He was then over eighty-five years of age. 
He had travelled a full day's ride b}' railroad, and, in 
good spirits, was spending the evening with a room full 
of friends, who had called to do him reverence. He 
preached twice on the following day with much of his 
usual vigor, and on Monday by five o'clock A. M. set oft' 
on a journey. His physical health was evidently failing, 
and his power of original thought was probably declining ; 
but his judgment was as sound as ever, and his friendly 
and loving spirit had suffered no abatement. 

" These reminiscences seem, I suppose, to savor of the 
garrulity of age. It is ver}- possibly so. If it be so, I 


cannot help it. I am writing, for my children, of the 
things which I recollect, and which tended to the forma- 
tion of my character. It is pleasing to recall them, trifling 
as they are, and, without relating them, I could not accom- 
plish the purpose which I have in view." 

We do not imagine that any reader will sympathize in 
the apprehension expressed in the paragraph just cited ; 
yet we have suflered it (not without some hesitation) to 
remain, because it suggests the spirit and purpose pervad- 
ing the reminiscences. They were v/ritten simply when 
he felt himself unfitted for severer labor, and when he 
could write these sketches only for a few pages at a time, 
and with intervals of several days. Nor were they re- 
vised, or in every case re-read. Yet we venture the belief 
that the reader would rather have his words, so far as 
the nature of the narrative allows, than any that can be 

In the passages which we have quoted relative to 
Professor Stuart and Dr. Nott, there are to be observed, 
on the part of their pupil, traces of a disposition which, 
carried to the excess of indiscriminate idolatry, would 
deserve the name of " hero worship," He had a pro- 
found admiration for greatness, intellectual and spiritual. 
His nature was keenly sensitive to the mysterious mag- 
netism, that goes forth from the divinely-crowned mon- 
archs among men. He delighted to read and repeat their 
words, to dwell upon their characters and achievements, 
and to study the pictured lineaments of their outward 
form. He paid homage to spiritual kings, unaware, while 
he exalted their prerogative, that he too v/as of the royal 
line, and that the reverence he so generously rendered, a 
coming generation would lay at his feet. 

He continues, — 

" One other person, now dead, deserves a distinct token 
of remembrance — Dr. Andrew Yates, who was professor 
of Moral and Intellectual Philosophy. He was a member 
of one of the most respectable Dutch families of the state. 

DR. YATES. 95 

His brother Joseph was a judge of the Supreme Court, 
and afterwards governor. His other brothers were men 
of distinction in their native state. He was educated at 
Yale College, and was settled at East Hartford, Conn. 
Removing from that place, he became professor at Union 
College. He was a most faithful officer, a strict discipli- 
narian, and a singularly simple-hearted and pious man. 
During my connection with the college, its steadfastness 
of discipline depended more on him than on any other 
person. Always at his post, always prepared for the dis- 
charge of every duty, plain in his appearance and unos- 
tentatious in his manners, he was a most valuable example 
to the younger officers. It was my good fortune to live 
in his immediate vicinity, and we were thrown very much 
together. He always treated me with great kindness, and 
to him I am indebted for much religious instruction, and 
for many of the most valuable ideas which I possess 
respecting the Christian ministry. He was fond of preach- 
ing, and preached well. He resigned the professorship 
to commence a polytechnic school, designed to teach the 
higher branches of education to young men in the practi- 
cal pursuits of life. He subsequently returned to Sche- 
nectady, and devoted himself to the ministry, preaching 
wherever there seemed to be the greatest need. He found 
on the Sacondaga Mountains a neglected people, who 
were entirely destitute of religious instruction. He not 
onl}' preached to them on the Sabbath, but went out and 
spent much time with them in the week. In one of his 
visits he was seized with fatal illness, and in the full en- 
joyment of a Christian hope he entered into rest." 

In this connection we may allude to two other men of 
subsequent eminence, with whom Mr. Wayland was associ- 
ated. Benjamin B. Wisner, afterwards pastor of the Old 
South Church in Boston, and at a later day Secretary of 
the American Board, had been his classmate, and was now 
his fellow-tutor. They formed an intimate friendship, 
which continued until the too early death of Dr. Wisner, 
in 1S35. Alonzo Potter, afterwards rector of St. Paul's 
Church, Boston, professor at Union College, and bishop 
of the diocese of Pennsylvania, graduated in iSiS, and 
the year after was appointed tutor. Shortly after the 


death of Bishop Potter, Dr. Waylancl called upon the 
editor of tlie Providence Journal and expressed his inten- 
tion of furnishing an article commemorative of his life. 
But the article was never written. He wrote (Aug. i, 
1S65) to Rev. Dr. Skinner, of New York, — 

" How sad is the death of Bishop A. Potter ! He was 
the earliest friend whom I recollect. He came to the acade- 
my just as I left it. He was in his Senior year when I 
was tutor, and we were tutors together. He came to 
Boston just as I left, and we have been always intimate. 
He was a noble fellow, a devout, earnest, God-fearing man. 
I saw him just before he sailed, when he was looking for- 
ward cheerfully to the restoration of his health. The 
ways of God are not as our ways. His way is perfect ; 
and when a thing is perfect it can be altered only for the 

We may here quote from a letter of Dr. Potter, referring 
to this period. 

" I was brought into daily intercourse with him for two 
years. We ate at the same table, and were much together. 
I could not but discern, almost at once, his large and 
genial heart, his warm sympathy Avith the suffering, his 
conscientious, strong devotion to the work in hand, what- 
ever it might be, his tenacious grasp of any subject whicli 
came up for reflection and discussion, and his resolute and 
indomitable industry. During these two years he laid me 
under personal obligations, which I can never forget while 
memory holds any trace of the past. During a severe 
illness he nursed me with the afl'ectionate assiduity of a 
brother, and with the skill and vigilance of a physician. 
He seemed to think nothing of broken sleep or interruption 
to his studies. When in health, I was indebted to him for 
suggestions in regard to self-culture, for an example of 
high and constant endeavor after all knowledge and all 
excellences, and for hours of delightful companionship." 

We continue extracts from his letters, yet feeling the 
propriety of a single remark applicable to his entire cor- 
respondence. It cannot be claimed for him that he be- 
longed to the highest rank of letter writers. His mind 
was rarely in the state best fitted for the epistolary art ; 


it was usually too earnest, too serious, too little at liberty. 
His letters are always, of course, sensible, intelligent, 
manly, and, to his friends, aflectionate. But he rarely 
gave himself up to the play of fancy, or to the indulgence 
of the lighter forms of thought and feeling. He might 
have adopted, without change, the language of Dr. Chan- 
ning : " The chief objection I have to writing letters is, 
that I can hardly do so without beginning to preach. I 
exhort, when I should smile. Not that I think a letter 
should be written without a desire to do good, but in- 
struction should be delivered with somewhat less of for- 
mality than from the pulpit." 

We venture also the remark, that in his earlier letters 
the subject of religion is introduced with more of formal- 
ity, with less of spontaneous naturalness, than in his later 
correspondence. In his youth he wrote about religion 
because it seemed to be his duty ; in later years, it per- 
petually found its own way into whatever he wrote, 
because he could not help it. 

The following letter illustrates his way of treating a 
question of duty ; he always tried to go back to the gen- 
eral law, the underlying principle, and to settle each case 
in such a way that a solution should be afforded for all 
similar perplexities. A near relative had asked his advice 
about laboring in the Sabbath school contrary to the 
wishes of her husband. 

" In a letter you wrote me some weeks ago, mention 
was made of the Sabbath school. In cases of that kind I 
feel very delicate about giving advice. You know it is a 
very hazardous business to decide between man and wife. I 
think, however, if I were to express an opinion, it would be, 
that you are now in the path of duty, waiting for the moving 
of the pillar. The person who performs a good action at 
the expense of domestic tranquillity, docs it at a dear rate, 
though sometimes even at that rate it may be necessary to 
do it. The duty to perform a good action of this kind 
is different from the dut}' which results from a positive 
command. God has commanded all men everywhere to 

VOL. I. 7 



repent, and no circumstances can make it the duty of any 
human being to do otherwise. Come what will, this duty 
is to be performed. Again, God has laid down the pre- 
cepts of the moral law, and we are bound to obey them, 
and no human power should oblige us to break them. 
The moment we transgress one of them to avoid persecu- 
tion, we are seeking the praise of men more than the ap- 
probation of God ; and we may rest assured he will frown 
upon our servile, wicked, and idolatrous complaisance. 
Between these duties to God and duties to men there never 
can be any compai-ison. These immediately swallow up 
the other, and no reasoning is by him ever permitted in the 
case. But our duties to our fellow-men may sometimes in- 
terfere with each other. We may, from some untoward 
circumstances into which we are thrown, find it necessary to 
abandon one in order to accomplish the other. But such 
positions are best illustrated by instances. I hope I shall 
not be tedious if I name two or three. You are bound to 
support your family. If you provide not for it, you are worse 
than an infidel. You are bound to relieve your neighbors' 
distresses. You may readily suppose yourself in a situa- 
tion where to perform both duties would be impossible. 
The one must yield to the other. Take another case. 
You may suppose a man and woman to commence the 
world with nothing, and to have acquired by frugality and 
labor a competence. I make the supposition that they 
have nothing in the commencement, in order that the case 
may be perfectly fair, since then, in point of natural right, 
they would both seem to have an equal power over the 
property acquired. It is the duty of the wife to bestow 
charity upon her neighbors in distress. Suppose in such 
a case the husband forbade it. It would then, I should 
say, be her duty to acquiesce. And thus I should advise 
in any case of a similar kind. God accepts the willing 
mind. He is able to raise up others to do what we should 
do with pleasure ourselves. We are to consider an object 
of this kind as a blessing, of which, from the course of 
events in divine providence, we are prohibited from par- 
taking. Still we should, and doubtless will, pray that the 
prohibition may be taken oft". You see immediately that 
the reasons of duty in a case of this kind result from the 
' nature of the marriage relation. The nature of this union 
is indissoluble. In this it materially difiers from every 



other. When two persons are united in business or alHed 
by friendship, should opinions materially intei'fere, the 
remedy is at hand : let them part, and each pursue the 
course which his reason dictates. They can part in good 
will. Between husband and wife the case is different. 
They cannot part. If one acts in opposition to the will 
of the other, domestic peace is wounded — I had almost 
said, destroyed. This, of course, is not to be done unless 
some greater evil is threatened ; and this can rarely, if ever, 
take place, except in the case of a positive and authorita- 
tive command of duty. It follows, of course, that one 
must yield. Reason and revelation, in this case, decide 
that it shall be the wife. And in all ordinary cases the 
wife gains more than she loses. As I have some time be- 
fore remarked to you, a woman's throne is the affections 
of her husband. And every honorable means by which 
she can the more closely entwine herself about his heart, it 
is lawful that she should use, and she ought to use. Hence, 
if she gives up one point to-day, she may be able b}' this 
means to carry a point to-morrow of ten times as much 

" I have been long on this subject, longer than I antici- 
pated ; perhaps I have been tedious. I, however, did not 
like to give an opinion without giving what seemed to me 
something like reasons. I thought, also, consequences 
were involved which might be of importance through the 
whole of your life, and on which I wished you to have all 
the light I could give you. If you are angry at my pro- 
lixit}', I can tell you, by way of alleviation, that I could 
have written as long again if I had chosen. . . . 

" The doubts and fears you mention in your last letter 
have long been familiar acquaintances of mine. Ah, how 
often do I doubt whether there ever was the love of God 
shed abroad in my heart ! My evidences are so dark, my 
practice so contradictor}'^, my heart so hard, my unbelief 
so strong, my love so cold, I frequently cry out, ' My 
leanness, my leanness! ' Sure I am, if ever a sinner was 
saved by grace, pure, and free, and infinite, that soul will 
be mine, if ever it be saved. O for more grace, more 
love, more faith ! Please accept a volume of Chalmers's 
Sermons. I call them super-excellent. I trust you will 
read them with profit." 


In connection with the closing words of the above 
letter, we quote from one to his friend Wisner, of about 
the same date : — 

" I have lately been reading Chalmers. The mind of 
that man moves like a torrent. Vast, irresistible, over- 
whelming, it sweeps before it the feeble barriers of in- 
fidelity, so that, like the baseless fabric of a vision, not 
a wreck is left behind. After following his track, you 
look behind you, and with curious gaze inquire, ' Where 
could infidelity have had a foothold ? ' " 

It is not a little noteworthy that the youthful admira- 
tion thus expressed was not lessened by the " years that 
bring the philosophic mind." His last published volume 
was a memoir of the religious and philanthropic labors 
of Dr. Chalmers. 

To his brother-in law, Mr. Stone : — 

"... You know much more about politics, newspapers, 
&c., than I do ; but still I will venture one word of advice. 
I would never, were I you, mention names in a political 
squib. It takes off the point of the attack, at the same 
time that it seems more bitter, and malevolent. I should 
think a painter much sharper, who drew a caricature of 
me, so pointed and characteristic that every one who 
looked at it, said, ' That is Wayland,' than a painter who 
drew one and had to write under it, ' This is Wayland,' 
for fear nobody would recognize it. The same is true of 
party thrusts. They pierce deeper and cut the more 
keenly, the smoother the edge. If a character is drawn 
with a certain discrimination, he for whom it is designed 
will soon enough fit it on himself; and then 3'ou can, 
if he complain, immediately retort, ' The galled jade 
winces.' I am aware you will say these people are so 
low, they cannot be touched by gentlemanly treatment : I 
would reply, ' Then let them alone.' 

" But, my brother, amidst the turmoil of party, amidst 
the hurry and bustle of conflicting interests, do you ever 
have time to look within? Is it peace there? Are the 
clamors of an accusing conscience hushed by the peace- 
speaking blood of the cross? This life, whether passed 
among friends or enemies, in bustle or solitude, is rapidly 


hastening away. This generation, with all its cares and 
contentions, will shortly lie side by side in the house ap- 
pointed for all living, and not one word of rivalry, not 
one shout of exultation, nor murmur of defeat, will be 
heard through the silent avenues of that gloomy habita- 
tion. This world, the theatre of so many unholy con- 
tentions, will shortly be purified by fire. This system, 
with all its grandeur, will collapse in one vmiversal ruin, 
and the heavens will be rolled together as a scroll. What 
will then be of value but an interest in the Savior? In 
that Savior may we be interested, and the praise shall 
be to his glorious grace. Amen." 

In general he seemed not greatly affected by natural 
scenery. His mind was habitually too much preoccupied 
to receive impressions from nature ; nor did he possess 
the "wise passiveness" by which "we may feed this 
mind of ours." His chief sensibility was to moral gran- 
deur. But the following portion of a letter to his sister 
shows him by no means destitute of the power of observ- 
ing and delineating nature : — 

"... I had a pleasant journey to Ogdensburg. I saw 
and admired the Little Falls, of which you had given me 
a description. The solemn and sober majesty of the 
square pillars of granite which crowd around the ap- 
proach to them is noble and grand. Here and there 
a pillar projects from the range of its brethren ; and on its 
head you observe a sturdy little pine entwining its roots 
among the fissures, and surveying with lordly pride the 
sublime scenery around. On every side you observe 
most conclusive evidence that the river, or some more 
noble stream, of which the present is but the pitiful fall- 
ing off', once rolled its majestic waters over the rocks, 
through which the road now passes. The rocks are 
rounded and smoothed ; their sides and tops are full of 
holes worn by the impetuous action of the water. In 
one of the rocks in the neighborhood, I found a hole 
large enough to hold six or eight men. Of all villages, 
Whitesborough takes the precedence. It combines rural 
elegance with city refinement, in a degree which I never 
saw, and scarcely expected to see. From Utica to Og- 


densburg, the road is through villages and forests. The 
trees are thick and heavy, and the elm is the most re- 
markable. Its trunk shoots up seventy-five or one hun- 
dred feet, round, straight, without a branch, and seems 
nearly of the same size. It divides into four or five 
branches, which for some time continue close together, 
and then spread out, forming a fitting crown to this pillar 
of the forest." 

To his sister Mrs. S. : — 

"... Of your joining Mr. Hawes's church I have only 
to say. May you be led by the Spirit of truth. The points 
which you suggest in your last letter I shall not attempt to 
answer. I would only say, you or I have mistaken the 
grounds of the question. I did not, I confess, see dis- 
tinctly the beai'ing which the texts you suggested, had 
upon the thing in dispute. If you are happy, as I pre- 
sume you will be, in that communion, you may rest 
assured, as I know you do, that I shall never attempt to 
unsettle your mind. 

" I am grateful that your excellent friends think of me. 
They probably do it out of respect to you, which is cer- 
tainly kind and flattering to you, and of course to me ; 
but if you do not wish to injui^e me, you should be care- 
ful how you speak. You may rest assured I am but a 
very common sort of man. As to acquirements, I am 
such as I ought to be ashamed of; as to application, still 
more so. Your friends, you may depend upon it, would 
never pick me out for your brother, if you have described 
me as probably you have. 

" You know that it is likely our family will remove to 
Saratoga. I hope it is for the best. I think the prospect 
of doing good there is encouraging. . . . God is certainly 
dealing with our family in much mercy. I, for my part, 
am frequently led to doubt my title to a heavenly inher- 
itance, I have had so little affliction ; though He, at whose 
reproof the pillars of heaven tremble and are astonished, 
knows well how to try me. When he does, may he do it 
in mercy, and not in judgment." 

Meanwhile his friend Wisner had entered the Seminary 
at Princeton, and was very anxious that Mr. Wayland 


should do the same. We can imagine the glowing terms 
in which he excited the almost envying admiration of his 
friend, as he told of the " prince of preachers," Dr. Alex- 
ander, and of the wise and learned Dr. Miller. 
Mr. Wayland writes, — 

" You have great privileges, and I doubt not you are 
prodigiously improving them. I know not how one small 
head will ever carry all your knowledge. I presume that 
your Seminary is as good as any in our country, or per- 
haps in the world ; nor do I doubt that you will do honor 
even to such a Seminary. I pray that with all your get- 
tings you may continue to gain in knowledge of your own 
heart and of that plan of redemption which it will be our 
business to preach." 

To the letters of Mr. Wisner urging him to repair to 
Princeton, he replies, — 

" I cannot go, for I have not the means. I cannot dig; 
to beg I am ashamed. I cannot, for I do not think it my 
duty. When Providence sees fit to place the means of 
effecting an object out of a man's power, it seems con- 
clusive evidence that it is not the divine will that he 
should proceed in its pursuit ; or, more properly, there 
the question ends. ... I thank you for the kind and dis- 
interested part which j^ou have taken. I wish I had it in 
my power to make any return. If the great Husbandman 
has any work for me to do in his vineyard, I trust he will 
prepare me, and send me forth. I desire to rely upon 
him. He has always done for me better than I expected, 
and infinitely better than I deserved. O that my heart 
were more melted by his goodness, and more devoted to 
his praise, and that my faith were more thoroughly placed 
upon him. I do not dissemble my opnion that I should 
be a more learned and perhaps useful minister, in the gen- 
ei'al acceptation of the term, were I with you ; nor do I 
deny that I have a strong desire once more to grapple 
with men. I would like once more to come upon the 
arena of a seminary and measure witli my peers. But 
this is a foolish ambition, and, I fear, not a Christian 

Several months later he writes, — 


" I have been disappointed in some money which I ex- 
pected to receive for private tuition. I have had to pay a 
debt which, when I saw you, I did not recollect ; and this 
has dwindled down my resources so far that I know not 
how to go, without being a greater burden on my friends 
than I am at all willing to become. Would you, my 
brother, risk the hazard of becoming the burden of chari- 
ty? I have once done this, and I have known what it 
was to remain for weeks without enough to pay the dues 
of the post-office. I have known what it was to be in debt, 
and without more than one decent suit of clothes. Though 
the wound of these things is closed by the hand of time, 
yet the scar remains. I must inevitably borrow ; but when 
shall I ever repay it? I cannot be a burden to my friends. 
They are few, very few, and 1 wish to keep them. . . . 
For all your kindness, my brother, I am under more obli- 
gations than I can express. . . . There is considerable 
attention to the concerns of the soul in the villages about 
here. Malta has been visited with an abundant out- 
pouring ; principally under the instrumentality of Dr. 
McAuley. Under one sermon which he preached there, 
nine, I think, were awakened. The work is still pro- 
gressing. At Saratoga Springs the work is at a stand." 

It was at this time that Mr. Wisner and Mr. William B. 
Sprague, now of Albany, were speaking, in presence of 
some of their fellow-students, of a young friend, a Bap- 
tist, of extraordinary intellectual endowments, who was 
anxious to come to the Seminary, but was not able to 
command the means. This conversation took place in 
the room of Howard Malcom (afterwards pastor of the 
Federal Street Baptist Church, in Boston, and subsequently 
president of the university at Lewisburg, Penn.). He at 
once said, " I will furnish him with two hundred dollars 
a year, or more if it is necessary, during his course of study 
at Princeton." Mr. Wisner immediately wrote to com- 
municate this noble ofler, and was happy in the expecta- 
tion of soon welcoming his friend to the prized privileges 
of professional study. After considerable delay, he re- 
ceived the following reply : — 



" Scarcely ever in my life did I feel so perfectly sensible 
of my unworthiness as upon the receipt of your letter. I 
am quite undeserving of so much attention and kindness. 
But how inscrutable are the ways of Providence ! If the 
facts communicated in your letter had been known a few 
days sooner, I should by this time have been in Prince- 
ton. Your letter was missent to Canandaigua. It did 
not return until day before yesterday evening. The ses- 
sion begins in four days. I had to decide whether I 
would continue here, so that, if I was to go, my place 
might be filled. I decided to remain, and informed Dr. 
Nott to this effect ; and I cannot honorably withdraw. I 
have engaged to teach the Senior class chemistry, and am 
now immersed, head and ears, in conflicting theories of 
atoms and volumes, and acids and alkalies. There seems 
something unusual in this dispensation of Providence. 
To Mr. Malcom I am under obligations which I hope 
you will be kind enough to acknowledge. I shall write 
to him immediately to thank him for his kindness. I 
have no way, my brother, to return your goodness. I can 
only beseech Him who has blessed me with such a friend, 
to shower upon you those gifts of the Holy Spirit which 
shall make you an eminent minister of the New Testament, 
and fit you for the enjoyment of him in heaven." * 

Of the events just alluded to he writes, in his reminis- 
cences, — 

"My destiny in life has been materially affected by 
the blunder of a postmaster ; and I believe that this blun- 
der was directed by infinite wisdom and love. I could 
not but look upon it as a special providence, intimating my 
duty in a manner not to be misunderstood. With this 
event all my plans for pursuing study at a theological 
seminary ended." 

Before many months had passed, the providence seemed 
to lose something of its mysteriousness. He writes, — 

* The truly beautiful exhibition afforded in this correspond- 
ence, of Mr. Wisner's character as a friend and a Christian brother, 
brings forcibly to mind the touching indorsement placed by the 
venerable Lyman Beecher upon a letter of Wisner : " That was 
the man I loved best of all on earth. I never pass the Old South 
but that I think of Wisner." 


" The four years which I spent as tutor were of great 
service to me intellectually. In a religious aspect, the 
first two years, at least, had no beneficent tendency. I was 
engaged in study far too exclusively, and religion became 
a matter of small and distant reality. The idea gained 
possession of my mind that I was preparing by study, and 
the discharge of my duties, for future usefulness. I forgot 
that the love of God is a duty and a privilege of every day 
and of every moment. 

" About this time all that region was overspread by a 
revival of religion, especially through the labors of the 
Rev. Asahel Nettleton. It extended to Schenectady, and 
entered the college. There was a powerful impression 
made upon the students, and many of them were converted. 
The occasion was blessed to me in awakening my con- 
science and recalling me to my duty. I labored as well 
as I knew how in the promotion of the work, and saw 
with delight a great change in the moral character of the 
young men. In the portion of the college which was under 
my care, a prayer meeting was established, which con- 
tinued, I think, until I resigned my office. At nine o'clock 
every evening, all who chose met at my room for reading 
the Scriptures and prayer. For some time almost eveiy 
student in my division attended, each one in turn conduct- 
ing the meeting." 

In the following letter * Mr. Nettleton gives a gi-aphic 
account of the scenes which so deeply affected the char- 
acter of the subject of our memoir : — 

" South from Malta about twelve miles is the city of 
Schenectady, and Union College, where I now reside with 
Dr. McAuley. He takes a lively interest in this good 
work. I first became acquainted with him last summer 
at the Springs, and more particularly at Malta, where he 
frequently visited us, and preached, and conversed, and 
attended the meetings appointed for those anxious for 
their souls. On a Sabbath, when a number were to be 
admitted to the church in Malta, he brought with him 
several students from the college. Some of them be- 
came anxious. About this time one of the students was 

* From Dr. Tjler's Memoir of Nettleton. 


called into the eternal world. He was laid out in Dr. 
McAuley's study. The doctor was anxious to improve 
this solemn providence to the best advantage. He assem- 
bled the students around the lifeless remains of their de- 
parted friend, and conversed and prayed with them in the 
most solemn manner. A number of them engaged to 
attend to the subject of religion in earnest. From that 
time many of the students became deeply impressed with 
a sense of their lost condition. For them were appointed 
meetings of inquiry. And in this very room, where they 
lately beheld the breathless corpse of their young com- 
panion, and where I am now writing, was witnessed a 
scene of deep and awful distress. About thirty of the 
students are brought to rejoice in hope. The revival is 
now very powerful in the city. Such a scene they never 
before witnessed. More than one hundred have been 
converted. Besides these, we had more than two hundred 
in our meeting of inquir}', anxious for their souls. We 
met in a large upper room, called the Masonic Hall. 
The room was so crowded that we were obliged to re- 
quest all, who had recently found relief, to retire below, 
and spend their time in prayer for those above. That 
evening will never be forgotten. The scene is beyond de- 
scription. Did you ever witness two hundred sinners, 
with one accord in one place, weeping for their sins? 
Until you have seen this, you can have no adequate con- 
ceptions of the solemn scene. I felt as though I was 
standing on the verge of the eternal world, while the floor 
under my feet was shaken by the trembling of anxious 
souls, in view of a judgment to come. The solemnity 
was heightened when every knee was bent at the throne 
of grace, and the intervening silence of the voice of prayer 
was interrupted only by the sighs and sobs of anxious 
souls. Some of the most stout, hard-hearted. Heaven- 
daring rebels have been in the most awful distress. Within 
a circle whose diameter is tvv'enty-four miles, not less than 
eight hundred souls have been hopefully borne into the 
kingdom of Christ since last September. The same glo- 
rious work is fast spreading in other towns and congrega- 
tions. ' This is that which was spoken by the prophet 
Joel.' " 

Mr. Wayland writes to Mr. Wisner, — 


" Your very welcome letter was received a few days 
since. I could not till this evening steal time to answer 
it. I entered my hall this evening, saying, ' Now for a 
long letter to brother Wisner.' As I walked up stairs, I 
heard the voice of praise and thanksgiving. I entered the 
next room to mine, and found about twenty-three, many 
of them new converts, engaged in a prayer meeting. I 
joined with them ; and this has delayed me, till now my 
watch points to ten o'clock. 

" The Lord hath done great things for us, my brother, 
whereof I hope we are glad. But we are not half glad 
enough. There are now about twenty happy converts, 
and nearly that number more, under serious conviction. 
As yet the work has been most powerful among the most 
moral and religiously educated. You may readily con- 
ceive that the aspect of college is somewhat altered. It is 
no difficult thing to collect a prayer meeting at a moment's 
warning. In fact, if two or three meet together, prayer 
seems to be almost the necessary consequence. About 
a week ago I mentioned to one of the converts, who 
rooms next to me, the expediency of instituting a section 
prayer meeting, or more properly a family meeting, at 
morning and evening. It was joyfully acceded to. They 
chose to meet in my room. And since that time, at the 
ringing of the first bell in the morning, and between nine 
and ten o'clock at night, we ofier up our devotions at the 
domestic altar. This incident expresses, I think, the gen- 
eral feeling about college. I have said that the work was 
generally confined to those who had been religiously edu- 
cated. This is not, however, universal. The name of 

Bob used to be proverbial for everything that was 

lying or mischievous. He is now calling on all who 
come in his way to repent and believe the gospel." 

Of the remarkable man already alluded to, Asahel 
Nettleton, Dr. Wayland writes, — 

" He was among the most effective preachers I have 
ever known. I never heard logic assume so attractive a 
form, or produce so decisive an effect. When reasoning 
on any of the great doctrines in Romans, for instance, 
election, the utter depravity of man, the necessity of re- 
generation, or the necessity of atonement, his manner was 
often Socratic. He would commence with what must be 


conceded by every one present; then, by a series of ques- 
tions, each deliberately considered, and not suflered to 
pass away until the speaker and hearer gave the same 
answer, his opponents would find themselves face to face 
wnth an absurdity so glaring, that notwithstanding the 
solemnity of the scene, the hearer could hardly escape 
the disposition to laugh at himself, for holding a belief that 
appeared so utterly untenable. 

" In other styles of address he was equally successful. 
The doom of the sinner, the danger of delay, the condition 
of the thoughtless, the vicious, and the blasphemer ; the 
exercises of the soul from the first moments of conviction, 
the subterfuses of the human heart, and the final act of 
submission to God, were portrayed by him with a power 
of eloquence that I have rarely heard. I suppose no min- 
ister of his time was the means of so many conversions. 

" He was in an unusual degree obedient to impressions 
received in answer to prayer. I believe he never went to 
a place, imless he had received an intimation that he had 
a duty to discharge there ; and he rarely visited a place 
where a revival did not follow him. In conversing with 
persons under conviction, he exhibited a knowledge of 
human nature almost intuitive. Nor was it merely with 
awakened sinners that his preaching was remarkably suc- 
cessful. It was his habit (when he could stay long enough 
in a neighborhood) to collect the converts and explain to 
them the doctrines of the gospel, point out to them their 
danger, and then to build them up in the faith, before he 
left them. 

" In preaching, his countenance beamed with a holy 
earnestness, such as befitted one sent directly from God 
as an ambassador to men. At this time he very rarely 
entered the pulpit, or preached in the daytime. He pre- 
ferred a vestry or a school-house ; and if he spoke in the 
body of the church, he addressed the audience from the 
deacons' seat, or the platform in front of the pulpit. His 
manner was quiet, especially at the commencement ; his 
voice grave and deep-toned ; his whole aspect w^as that 
of a man who had just come from intimate communion 
with God. He never used notes (although I believe he 
sometimes wrote out some of his sermons), and rarely em- 
ployed ornament of any kind. He would stand up, throw- 
ing a red bandanna handkerchief over his left arm, and in 
tones varying but little from those of earnest conversation, 


would sway an audience as the trees of the forest are 
moved by a mighty wind. 

" His manner of hfe was consistent with liis appearance 
in the pulpit. His residence was generally with the min- 
ister of the parish in which he was laboring. The time 
not employed in preaching or conversation with inquirers, 
was devoted to secret prayer and the reading of the Scrip- 
tures. He was never seen in what is called general socie- 
ty. His whole time seemed devoted to labor for souls. 
He was unmarried, and, to avoid remark, he never rode or 
walked with a lady alone. He was wholly insensible to 
the influence of money. His di"ess was plain, and well 
worn. When money was offered him, he would either 
return it all, or would accept only what was wanted for 
his present necessity. 

" Notwithstanding all this, I have rarely known a man 
who was, for a great part of the time, more thoroughly 
abused. It was generally admitted that his appearance 
in a town was the precursor of a revival. This fact 
aroused all the virulence of men at enmity with God. 
His mode of conducting meetings was somewhat peculiar, 
and his preaching singularly bold and uncompi'omising. 
Thus he greatly excited against him those professors of 
religion who did not like anything new in the mode of 
preaching. Hence, at first, good men would frequently 
turn aside from him, and too readily give heed to the 
slanders of wicked men. I knew very well a physician 
of eminence, a pleasant, kind man, though utterly destitute 
of religion, residing in a village where Mr. N. was labor- 
ing, who circulated a falsehood about him, retailing a 
conversation, which, he said, Mr. N. had had with him 
in his office, when the fact was, that Mr. N. had never 
been in his office ; and it subsequently appeared that the 
doctor was wholly ignorant of his person. To such at- 
tacks Mr. N. never deigned to make a word of reply, nor 
did he ever intimate that he knew of their existence. He 
considered that a man's character is the best defence of his 
reputation, and he left it to time and to the providence of 
God to refute the slanders. 

" A man so unique and so successful was of course 
blessed with many imitators. But they could much more 
easily imitate his peculiarities, than the spirit with which 
he spoke. Some of them preached a very diflerent doc- 
trine from that in which he gloried. Others failed entirely 


in moral character. The spirit of revivals declined, and 
this sort of preaching was made, I fear, a thing of gain. 
He became involved in controversy with some of the most 
eminent men in the Congregational church. These dif- 
ferences led to painful results, and it may, I fear, be said 
that the peculiar type of revival preaching which I re- 
member at this time, rose and declined with this excellent 
man. I write this in part from genei'al recollection, at the 
distance of a long intervening period. In some of the facts 
1 may unintentionally have erred." 

We need not fear to believe that Providence had wise 
and gracious designs in so ordering his ciixumstances 
that Mr. Wayland should be mingled with the scenes of 
this revival, and especially that he should form the ac- 
quaintance and enjoy the counsels of Mr. Nettleton. " I 
became intimately acquainted with Mr. Netdeton, and my 
conversations with him were of great use to me." 

His spirit received a quickening impulse whose influ- 
ence never ceased to be felt, and he gained lessons never 
to be forgotten in the mode of addressing men on religious 
subjects. He desired to be engaged directly in laboring 
for the salvation of men. He writes, — 

" I had become somewhat familiar with most of the 
studies which I was called on to teach, and could devote 
some time to preparation for the ministry ; to this kind of 
study I now gave all of the time which I could command. 
Having been licensed to preach by the church at Saratoga 
Springs, of which I had become a member, and of which 
my father was at this time (1820) pastor, I began to 
preach to feeble churches in the vicinity. For some 
time I supplied the little church at Burnt Hills, a village 
between Schenectady and Ballston. I began to make 
skeletons of sermons under the supervision of Dr. Nott. 
From him I learned all that I ever knew on that subject. 
He taught me how to make a sermon, by showing me the 
folly of the plans which I submitted to him, and by giving 
my mind the right direction in this kind of intellectual 
labor. His instruction was invaluable to me. 

" My preaching was confined wholly to out-stations, and 
was at first entirely unwritten. Thinking it important 
not only to make the plan of a sermon, but to finish it 


completely, I began to write sermons. But it is scarcely 
possible to realize the labor which writing them cost me. 
I have been thought to write with more than common 
readiness. At first, however, it was intolerable labor. It 
took me weeks — I know not but I might say months — to 
write a discourse of moderate length. I wrote and re- 
wrote, with endless care and anxiety. How men pre- 
pared two sermons a week I could not conceive. I saw, 
however, that they did it, and at last I settled down into 
the belief that I could do what I saw other men do, though 
I could not see how it was accomplished." 

These early sermons are valuable chiefly as the com- 
parison of them with those of subsequent years shows 
that he did not spring into life fully panoplied ; that the 
power of thinking, of expressing, came to him, not by in- 
spiration, but as the result of the most patient and unwea- 
ried labor. During the latter portion of his tutorship, he 
also instructed, in Hebrew, a number of candidates for the 
ministry, carrying them through a portion of Genesis. 

To his brother : — 

" You and I are poor. The only patrimony, for which 
we can hope, is our pious parents' blessing. The best 
fortune we can acquii"e is, a character above suspicion. 
By a rigid continuance in virtue, that character may be 
gained. By one act of infamy it may be lost, lost forever. 
The gate to infamy is constantly open. We may easily 
enter it. But to I'eturn, — ah, that is next to impossible. 
Suffer, then, my brother, the advice of one who, a few 
years ago, was treading the path in which you now are. 

" Beware of your companions. I would not be intimate 
ivith any 07ie who Vv'as not perfectly and rigidly virtuous. 
I had almost said I would be intimate with no one. You 
have your brother and sisters, and I would spend my lei- 
sure time with them. Thus your mind will be enlarged, 
your information extended, and your manners improved. 
The society into which they will introduce you will be 
honorable, and may be useful to you. The chance ac- 
quaintances whom you may pick up may be absolutely 
deleterious. They can do 3'ou no good. As you value 
your character, the character of your family, your future 
prospects, and your everlasting welfare, I conjure you,^ 


hold no intercourse with a vicious man. I speak on this 
subject from experience. I was once on the brink of ruin. 
I was intimate with a man of vicious habits, though of 
unusual mind, and of very entertaining conversation. 
Intercourse v/ith him gradually diminished my sense of J 

religious obligation, and was leading me on in a course ■ 

which, if pursued, would have left me at this moment an 
abandoned and vicious man. Providence interrupted the 
intimacy, and I never think of it without shuddering at 
the near approach I made to a total overthrow of all my 
hopes. For I consider that the hopes of a vicious man 
are overthrown. Be found in no place of resort to which 
you would not be willing that I should accompany you. 
But especially be found nowhere where you would not be 
willing that God should find you. And find you he will. 
There is not a word on your lips but he hears. There 
is not a thought in your heart which he does not mark. 
There is not a place in which you have been, or in which 
you will be, where he is not around you on every side. 
And every deed, every word, and every thought, shall be 
found registered in that book which a day of judgment 
will unseal." 

We quote further from the reminiscences bearing on 
this period. 

" I had passed nearly four years as tutor in Union 
College ; I was satisfied that I had remained there long 
enough, and was determined to resign when this year was 
completed. I suffered from ill health, for I had not 
learned the value and importance of systematic exercise. 
In what direction I should turn, I knew not. No prospect 
v;as before me. I thought of going to the west, but I was 
not in a pecuniary condition to travel far. I suffered 
much from the fear that no prospect of usefulness was 
open, or likely to open, before me. I was but little ac- 
quainted with Baptist ministers, having been for five 
years associated with men of other denominations. To 
go about and beg for a settlement seemed hardly what I 
was prepared to do. I had little experience in preaching, 
and no power of eloquence, or anything which would 
be likely to attract attention. It was to me a period of 
deep and distressing anxiety. I have never since, that I 
remember, suffered anything comparable to it." 

VOL. I. 8 




MEANWHILE the First Baptist Church in Boston 
was destitute of a pastor. The church had enjoyed, 
under the eminent Dr. Stillman, a high degree of prosperi- 
ty. " He was pi'obably the most popular pulpit orator of 
his day. He was a universal favorite." To him and to his 
church was granted the singular honor of holding up the 
doctrines of the gospel, when the great body of churches 
of the standing order had either openly departed from the 
faith, or, while having the form of godliness, had denied 
the power of it. When any one became anxious about his 
soul, it was very commonly said to him, " O, you had 
better go down to Dr. Stillman's meeting. You will find 
what you want there." An eminent layman of one of the 
Congregational churches used to relate, that when a young 
man, having become ai'oused by the Spirit of God, and 
seeking advice suited to his condition, he was referred to 
Dr. Stillman's church ; and at the time of meeting he 
would steal by retired streets, down to the North End, 
watching to see that he was not observed, and there 
would receive into his thirsty soul the words of ever- 
lasting life. 

Dr. Stillman was succeeded by Rev. Joseph Clay, and 
he, by the Rev. J. M. Winchell, whose name was long 
retained in grateful remembrance by his admirable com- 
pilation of hymns, Winchell's Watts. Between the resig- 


nation of ]Mr. Clay and the settlement of Mr. Winchell, a 
period of more than five years, the church had no pastor ; 
and during the latter part of Mr. Winchell's settlement, 
his failing health had greatly abridged his power of labor. 
The house of worship (situated on a narrow alley, that 
now, widened and improved, is called Stillman Street) 
was old, unsightly, and incommodious of access. It is 
scarcely matter of wonder that the church should have 
greatly declined in means, numbers, zeal, and unity. 
Truth, however, would seem to require the statement that 
their sense of the dignity and importance of the church 
was all that could be demanded by the most flattering 
circumstances. Their estimate of the qualities needed by 
an}^ one who should assume the pastoral office among 
them, was correspondingly high. " They must have an 
able minister, a young man, a scholar. He must be elo- 
quent, like Dr. Stillman, a logician, like Judge Clay. In 
their view, there was no man in the ministry quite equal 
to so eligible a place as the pastorship of the First Bap- 
tist Church of Boston. I have been told that there was 
some thought of sending for Andrew Fuller ; but he was 
the main support of the Baptists of England, the Secretary 
of the Foreign Missionary Society, and could not be spared 
from the church at Kittering." * 

Mr. Wisner, who was now settled at the Old South 
Church, urged the deacons of the First Church to hear 
his friend Mr. Wayland. On the Stli of January, iSai, 
Deacon James Loring, church clerk, writes to ISIr. Way- 
land, stating their destitute condition, and adding, " None 
of us have ever enjoyed the privilege of hearing your 
public improvements ; but having I'eceived information 
respecting you as an acceptable preacher in our denomi- 
nation, this church, at their monthly meeting, on the 5th 
instant, voted that their committee for the supply of the 

♦ Rev. Dr. Neale's Historical Discourse, from which, also, two 
sentences were quoted above, relative to Dr. Stillman. 


pulpit be directed to request you, in the name of the 
church, to visit and preach with them eight or ten weeks, 
as might suit your convenience." 

The invitation was accepted, and a promise made to 
visit Boston in the spring. To a letter of his father, sug- 
gested by these circumstances, Mr. Wayland replies, — 

"... Your remarks I have felt to be emphatically ap- 
plicable to my case. It is my desire not to feel anxious or 
sanguine on the subject. I pray that God will enable me 
to submit this and all his dispensations wholly to his 
will, and that I may be prepared for every and any situa- 
tion which he may assign me. I have had reason, very 
great reason, to be thankful for all the scenes, whether 
of trial or prosperity, but especially the former, through 
which I have been led. Should the Lord design to teach 
me humility by this visit, I pray that he may make me 
docile, and willing to learn the lesson. May it make me 
more to distrust myself, and lean with more unshaken 
confidence upon his guidance and direction. Should he 
favor me with prosperity, O that he may keep me hum- 
ble, patient, meek, and lowly. And if he should place 
me in any station of responsibility, may he abundantly 
enrich me with every literary and intellectual qualifica- 
tion, but especially with the infinitely richer endowments 
of his Holy Spirit, that I maybe sincere, wise, pure, holy, 
vigilant, and prayerful, and deeply impressed with the 
value of souls. In fine, whatever may be my lot in this 
world, may I live a life of holiness, and be received at 
last to the place where there is no more lukewarmness, 
but where they see as they are seen, and know as they are 
known. With respect to the course of ministerial study 
which you recommend, I am much of your opinion. I 
am of opinion that the Bible is the best book a minister 
can study ; and the next best book is his own heart, and 
the hearts of his people : the one without the other will 
be ineffectual, or at least imperfect. These arc the outlines 
of my ideas. I hope, if they are not correct, I may be 
instructed better from on high. Should I be located in 
Boston, there will be many things pleasant — its proximity 
to Andover — and its being the residence of Mr. Wisner, 
my old friend. But of this it is needless to talk ; we are 
not to choose for ourselves. . . ." 


In the spring vacation he went to Boston, taking with 
him his entire supply of sermons, eight in number. 
During this visit, Deacons Snow and Loring spent an 
evening in conversing with him upon his rehgious views. 
He savs, — 

" I I'ephcd to their questions with entire frankness, and 
when I seemed to ditfer from them, gave such reasons for 
my opinion as occurred to me at the moment." 

He regarded the course of these gentlemen in holding 
this interview as eminently judicious, as calculated to 
prevent misunderstanding, and to secure permanent coop- 
eration. After he had preached four Sundays, and was 
about to return to Schenectady, it was proposed by some 
persons that he should visit them again. 

" This I declined to do, for they had had a full oppor- 
tunity to hear and see me. If they did not like me now, 
they would not probably be changed in their opinion by 
any further acquaintance, while to return would place mc 
before the public as seeking the situation. I spoke with 
entire simplicity, and with the distinct impression that by 
thus speaking I closed forever the prospect of a settlement 
with tlrem." 

During this visit to Boston, Mr. Wayland attended the 
trial of Judge Prescott, then under impeachment, and 
heard the speech of Mr. Webster. He says, '• I lost, as I 
suppose, some reputation, if I had any to lose, by saying 
that I thought Mr. W. a less eloquent man than Dr. Nott." 
The incident is of little value, except as illustrating his 
uniform habit of making up his judgments for himself. 
He could not accept opinions and estimates at second 
hand. He had but little respect for traditional wisdom. 
" Every man must sail by his own compass" was an oft- 
repeated maxim v/ith him. 

A considerable portion of the church were in favor of 
R.ev. Mr. E., a clergyman of popular and showy address. 
But there were a few persons who discerned the force of 


character, and the strength of mhid and purpose, underly- 
ing an unattractive manner. The weight of their judg- 
ment and their personal influence carried a small majority. 
Mr. Wayland was called by a vote of fifteen to ten in the 
church, and seventeen to fifteen in the society. 

" I knew," he says, " that the call was not unanimous 
(though I did not then know that the small majority had 
been procured with great eflbrt). But Dr. Nott, whose 
advice I asked, treated this as a matter of no consequence, 
and insisted that those who opposed me, would soon, in 
all probability, become my best friends." * 

A few days after forwarding to him the notice of the 
call. Deacon Loring wrote urging his acceptance, and 
adds, — 

" President Messer, who was recently in town, observed, 
' If Mr. Wayland is like me, he will not look at numbers, 
but weight.' On Tuesday I saw Professor Stuart. I told 
him I had the pleasure to say to him that our church and 
society had requested you to become our stated minister. 
' I am glad,' said he, ' your church has so much good 
sense. Were you united ? ' ' Not so much as I could 
wish.' ' Did you unite your principal men?' This ques- 
tion is so much like Stuart. ' We did, sir.' Rev. Mr. 
Going, of Worcester, says, ' Tell Mr. Wayland, from 
me, that the cause of evangelical religion and literature 
amongst the Baptists and others says, Come to Boston.' 

" P. S. Permit me to caution you against anonymous 
letters. The communications sent you on Tuesday are 
official, and such as you may place confidence in. In an 
anonymous letter you find no responsibility." 

Professor Stuart writes to Mr. Wayland, — 

" Deacon Loring, of Boston, has recently told me the 
circumstances of your invitation to Boston. He states 
(what I thought would be the case) that all the well- 
informed and weighty part of the church and society are 

* Dr. Wayland once said to Dr. Stow, "I don't think much of 
these unanimous calls. It looks as though people did not judge 
for themselves." 


in your favor, while the other part would prefer a man 
who ' could preach by inspiration.' He made me prom- 
ise that I would write you the result of my reflections on 
this subject, the first leisure time that I could find. 

" On the whole, I am well satisfied that you are better 
fitted for ' Yankee soil ' than any other. You may not 
cut a great figure here, with wide-spread branches, broad 
leaves, and profuse flowers ; but what blossoms put forth 
will be succeeded by fruit, and that fruit will not fall 
prematurely, but yield a noble harvest. Your society in 
Boston is the best place in this country to begin the 
cure of the malady that reigns among your brethren on 
the subject of educating preachers. I am quite confi- 
dent, that with prudence and good sense, you will win 
over the reluctant part of your congregation. Noth- 
ing is wanting but a little personal, kind^ attention, and 
to preach a few times without notes, so as to let them 
know that you can be inspired as well as your brethren. 
And then, the cause here absolutely and imperiously de- 
mands a man like you, who has depth of exegetical lore, 
who can meet the Unitarians on ground where he is not 
liable to feel his inferiority, or be put to the blush. 
Besides, Providence College must have such trustees, or 
it is ruined forever. Radical changes must be made in 
order to save it. You want more weight, more literature 
here, to do this. 

" All things considered, I am clear that it is your duty 
to come, and that the opposition to you is of such a 
nature as can be neutralized by a very little prudent and 
kind attention, and extempore effort in the pulpit. And, 
by the way, I say without reserve, you should always 
extemporize one half the day in your own pulpit." 

The call was accepted, and early in August he set out 
for Boston. 

To his mother : — 

"... At sunset on Thursday I arrived in Boston. I 
never entered a place with quite such feelings. I had 
left my home. I had left that part of this earth, which, 
above every other, was endeared to me by a thousand 
associations. I was entering the place where I expected 
to spend the remainder of my life. The people were 
new to me. Their modes of living were in many re- 


spects dissimilar to my own. There were but one or 
two j^ersons with whom I felt as though there was any- 
thorough congeniality. But above all, I was going as an 
ambassador of Heaven. I could not but reflect on the 
words, ' This child is set for the fall and rising of many 
in Israel.' Although in a very humble sense, yet I could 
not but reflect that in all human probability, if my life 
were spared, I should be the cause of the eternal salva- 
tion or damnation of many souls. The doctrines which 
I should preach, the behavior which I should exhibit, the 
whole course of my life, was to have henceforth a bear- 
ing upon eternity. Who was sufficient for these things? 
I certainly was not. I shuddered, and was ready to shrink 
from the burden which was to devolve upon me. I could 
only find consolation in looking to that Name which is 
above every name, renewedly dedicating myself to his 
service, and praying that he would make me faithful unto 
death, that at the end I may render up my account with 
joy, and not with grief." 

On the 2 1st of August, 1821, he was ordained. The 
services were, — prayer by Rev. William Gammell ; ser- 
mon by Rev. Dr. Sharp ; ordaining prayer by Rev. F. 
Wayland, senior ; charge by Rev. Dr. Baldwin ; right 
hand of fellowship by Rev. Dr. Bolles ; prayer by Rev. 
Joseph Grafton. The text of Dr. Sharp's discourse — 
"Now, if Timotheus come, see that he may be with you 
without fear, for he worketh the work of the Lord, as 
I also do " — would seem to indicate that, in his opinion, 
trials awaited his young brother. 

Turning for a moment from the publicity, the hurry, 
and the confusion of the ordination, let us look (if it be 
not too sacred a spot for intrusion) into the heart and 
the closet of the Christian woman who sees the fulfilment 
of many prayers in the piety and the opening usefulness 
of her son. 

From his mother : — 

<' Saratoga Springs, August 29, 1821. 
" My dear Son : Your highly acceptable letter, bear- 
ing date August II, came to hand. I have read it over 


and over with tears of joy. I hope my gratitude and 
love were much increased to the Father of mercies for his 
goodness to you and faithfuhiess to me. Truly, God is 
good to Israel. He has heard my prayer. He has not 
despised the supplication of his handmaid. Surely the 
feehngs of Hannah were mine, when she said, ISIy soul 
doth magnify the Lord. I called for all within me and 
all without to join in praise. I looked around to see if I 
could find one confidential friend to whom I could say 
'The Lord has done great things for me'(^"d I humbly 
hope for the church of God), whereof my soul is glad. 
Come and help me to adore before his throne. And will 
he open his eyes upon such a one as mortal man, and 
send him with the glad tidings of salvation to sinners? 
This is a subject in which I'm lost in wonder, love, and 

" The day of your ordination I kept with fasting and 
prayer, that the Lord would adorn you with all the graces 
of his Holy Spirit, that you might abound in every good 
word and v/ork, that you might have many, very many, 
souls given you, that shall be to your everlasting joy in 
a coming dily. Two things especially w^ere on my mind 
— that is, that you might be clothed with humility as with 
a garment, and that your spirituality might appear to all. 
INIay these ever go before in all your preaching, and then 
your education and talents may follow to great advantage. 

" The next subject of my prayer v/as the church over 
which the Lord has made you overseer, that they might 
be much blessed, comforted, and edified under your pas- 
toral care. ..." 

On the following Sabbath, August 26, the new pastor 
preached two sermons from the words, " It is required in 
stewards that a man be found faithful." The subject, '• the 
duties of the minister of Christ," is considered under three 
heads: i. He must deliver to his people, without addition 
or retrenchment, the truths contained in this holy word. 
2. He must deHver each distinct truth to those for whom 
his Master has designed it. 3. He must deliver the truth 
in such a manner as his Master has directed. 

" He may not add to the word of God his own infer- 
ences nor the inferences of other men. . . . Again, he is 


forbidden to take anything from the word of God. Some 
pastors, from a spirit of timidity, seem to want to preach 
less than God has revealed. At one time a doctrine seems 
revealed in too unqualified a manner, and in their preach- 
ing they guard it by some temporizing paragraphs. At 
another, a statement seems not to agree with their pre- 
conceived notions, and they modify it to suit their opin- 
ions. God commands all men, everywhere, to repent. 
One dares not thus to call upon his fellow-sinners, lest 
they should imbibe false notions of human agency, or be- 
cause he does not know that those whom he addresses arc 
elected. Another will not preach the doctrine of divine 
sovereignty, lest men should abandon all concern for their 
salvation. But is he a faithful steward who thus mangles 
the word of God? Has infinite wisdom revealed more 
truth than it is prudent for man to know, and is it the 
business of the minister of Christ to becloud it? 

" Again,^ the minister of Christ should preach the truths 
of the Scriptures in all their clearness and in all their 
obscurity. Some of the truths of the Bible are clearly 
revealed. . . . These truths, and others which we might 
mention, seem to us distinctly made known in the word of 
God, and the minister of Jesus Christ must clearly preach 
them, even though by so doing he incurs the enmity of 
some and the contemjDt of many. 

" But it cannot be denied, that although the truths are 
revealed, yet frequently the manner of their existence 
and their relations to each other are not revealed. The 
fact God has declared, while its consistence with other 
facts he leaves in obscurity ; and with all this obscurity 
must the minister of the gospel preach it. 

" Wc_ find in the Scriptures that Jesus Christ is God, 
and again, that he is man. Do you ask how both can be 
true? I freely answer, I cannot now explain it. Perhaps 
I never shall be able to do so. Nor is it my business, 
nor that of any other minister. God has left it unex- 
plained, and there I am bound to leave it. Again, God 
has clearly revealed the fact of his superintending control. 
All things that take place happen under his direction and 
by his control ; yet man and all God's intelligent creatures 
act freely and voluntarily. Who can show the connection 
between these truths ? What mortal eye has glanced along 
the chain of Jehovah's operations, and fixed upon the link 


which connects the decrees of God with the agency of 
man ? Such are some of the obscurities connected with 
the truths of God's word, and with all this obscurity^ must 
the minister of Christ preach them. 

" Here it may be asked, Is not God consistent with 
himself? and if we find one doctrine clearly revealed, and 
find another which we cannot reconcile with it, is it not 
evident that the one or the other must be taken with some 
limitations, and in our preaching, are we not bound to 
limit it? We answer, God is doubtless consistent with 
himself, but he has never appointed us judges of his con- 
sistency ; and until he shall thus appoint us, it were cer- 
tainly modest in us to decline the oftice. We answer, 
again, If two such doctrines occur, — and they may doubt- 
less occur, — the duty of the minister is to preach them 
both, fully and clearly, as they are revealed in the Scrip- 
tures. He has nothing to do with their consistency. If 
his hearers object on this account, the controversy is 
between God and their own souls, and there must the 
minister of Christ leave it." 

Usually it is but scanty praise to say of a man that he 
has not in any degree changed his views during all his 
lifetime. It is to say that he is no wiser to-day than he was 
many years ago. And Dr. Wayland would have been the 
first to declare, that with maturer years his views on many 
subjects were greatly modified. But the opinions expressed 
in the paragraphs just quoted he ever adhered to. He had 
no hesitation in exhibiting the plain teachings of a passage 
of Scripture, even when they seemed inconsistent with 
some other truth which he equally believed. Perhaps 
there could not be a more marked example of this freedom 
than was exhibited in a sermon preached in the University 
Chapel, on the college fast day, February, 1853, from the 
text, " But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your 
most holy faith, and praying in the Holy Ghost, keep 
vourselves in the love of God." In this sermon he shows 
from the tenor of the command in the text, and from simi- 
lar passages, that there was a liability that those now " in 
the love of God" should be found out of it. After a full 
exhibition of this truth he adds, — 


" But I seem to hear many of you exclaim, What, then, 
is to become of the doctrine of the perseverance of the 
saints? What docs Christ mean when he says, ' My 
sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow 
me, and I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never 
perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand. My 
Father, who gave them me, is greater than all, and none 
is able to pluck them out of my Father's hand.' You will 
say to me. What are we to do with such passages? I ask, 
Are they found in the word of God? Undoubtedly. Then 
believe them implicitly. They are the words of unchange- 
able, eternal truth. Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
but not one word God has ever spoken shall pass away. 
But are not the other passages which I quoted also found 
in the word of God? Undoubtedly. And are not they 
also to be implicitly believed? Are we not with equal 
authority called upon to believe them both ? 

" But you will say. How are these to be reconciled? I 
might say, I do not know ; but is this any reason why you 
should refuse to believe what God has revealed ? Dare I, 
on this ground, refuse to set before you any portion of his 
holy oracles? Whatever systems, and the makers of sys- 
tems, and the believers in the makers of systems may say, 
I must set before you the truth as I find it. Again, I may 
say. Though I cannot explain this mystery, yet I think 1 
may promise to explain it as soon as you will explain to 
me how the infinite and the finite unite in any case of 
human action, or how the sovereignty of God is theoret- 
ically reconciled with the free agency and accountability 
of man. These doctrines all belong to the same class, 
and to finite minds, like ours, they are hidden in impene- 
trable obscurity." 

The Bibliotheca Sacra for April, 1861, contained an 
article by the venerable and learned Rev. Dr. Withington, 
in which a reply is ofiered to these questions: i. Why 
am I a Christian? 3. Why am I a Calvinist? 3. Why 
am I a moderate Calvinist? Under the last head he 
says, — 

" But you may ask, What is moderate Calvinism ? Now, 
moderate Calvinism consists not in denying any one of the 
great doctrines, but in mixing these with other truths, 


equally obvious and equally important. A moderate 
Calvinist knows the magnitude of these speculations, 
and the weakness of our moral powers, and therefore he 
does not make all the deductions from such hisfh declara- 
tions which a rigid logic would seem to demand. . . . 
God is sovereign, man is free. God sees no contingenc}-, 
man meets scarcely anything else. Now, I must mingle 
these truths just as they are mingled in the Bible, and I 
have no right to make the one weaker than the other. I 
must leave the compound with all its perplexities and 
divine contradictions." 

Upon reading this article, Dr. Wayland wrote to Dr. 
Withington, July 9, i S6 1 , — 

" I have lately read your confession of faith in the Bibli- 
otheca Sacra. It is rare (I do not know when it has oc- 
curred before) that I have seen my own opinions on these 
subjects so clearly expressed. As you say, I can discover 
no point of what I suppose to be Calvinism which is not 
abundantly taught by Paul. And yet I am a moderate 
Calvinist. The sharp angles of Calvinism, which needed 
to be filed and hammered out in order to make a system, 
I desire to hold no opinion about. It seems to me that 
tiie fault of all theological systems arises from logical 
sequences drawn from some revealed truth. Now, for this 
kind of logic I have no sort of respect. Human ideas are 
the proper materials for the processes of logic. A human 
idea I can comprehend. I can know all about it, and 
therefore it is a legitimate subject for my limited powers." 
I know wdiat is meant by a triangle. I can know all 
about it. I can therefore reason about it with confidence 
in my conclusions. The ideas of revelation are not human, 
but divine ideas, the conceptions of the infinite God. It 
seems to me that they arc not proper subjects for human 
logic, and therefore, by applying reasoning to them, we 
are led into absurdity. Take the two opposite ideas, the 
free agency of man and the sovereignty of God ; how 
many men have logically reasoned themselves into absur- 
dity on one or the other of these subjects ! Now, when 
we take acknowledged truth, and, upon either side, reason 
ourselves into absurdity, it is evident to me that we have 
passed the bounds set for human reason. I do not know 
whether I make myself intelligible, but I have done the 
best I could in such weather as this. 


" Now, it seems to mc, that the points in which uch 
persons as 3'ou and I differ from the out-and-out Calvinists, 
are jorecisely those in which they have gone beyond he 
revealed truth, and inferred from it, logically perhaps, con- 
clusions where we dare not conclude. I stand to whatever 
God has said ; v/hat men infer from it is merely human, 
and weighs with mc just nothing. As a Christian, I 
think I can, in my poor way, defend what God has said ; 
what man has inferred from it, man may defend if he can ; 
I am not responsible. 

" Do not feel obliged to answer this letter, unless it is, 
in all respects, convenient. I wanted to tell you how 
much I was pleased with your papei', and I will add, 
how much I am interested in all you have written." 

And now the period of preparation is ended, and the 
work of life is begun. 

On the day preceding his ordination, Mrs. Judson had 
embarked at Rangoon for Calcutta on her way to America. 
The Burman mission, reenforced, a year or two previous- 
ly, by the arrival of Wheelock and Colman, had been 
bereaved by the death of the one and the rapidly declining 
health of the other. Dr. Judson, who four years earlier 
had heard the first acknowledgment of an eternal God 
from the lips of a Burman, was laboring alone at Ran- 
goon. The missionaiy enterprise was regarded by men 
at large with coldness or with contempt, and even by 
the disciples of Christ, with that lethargic interest which 
wrung from Dr. Judson the cry, " O that all the members 
of the Baptist Convention could live at Rangoon one 
month ! Will the Christian world ever awake ? Will 
means ever be used adequate to the necessities of the 
heathen world? O Lord, send help! Our waiting eyes 
are unto thee." * The Triennial Convention was becom- 

* During ten months, from Julj^ 1820, to April, 1S21, the mis- 
sionary contributions to the American Baptist Board of Foreign 
Missions, as acknowledged in the Magazine (exclusive of income 
from investments), were $4383. A few j'ears later, a committee 
appointed "on the means of reviving the missionary spirit among 


ing entangled in the hopeless embarrassments of Colum- 
bian College. George D. Boardman was just entering on 
his last year at Watei-ville College, which had been estab- 
lished the year previous. 

Newton Theolosrical Institution did not exist even in 
the hopes or the imagination of Deacon Farwell or of 
jNIr. Cobb ; and Brown University seemed, to the anxious 
friends of evangelical piety, tending towards the course of 
its older sister at Cambridge. 

Jonathan Going was preaching in Worcester, and the 
Home Mission Society was unknown ; but John Leland 
and other apostolic men had gone forth into the Genesee 
country and into Virginia, gathering in the lost sheep of the 
house of Israel. A year or two previous Leland had written, 
"■ I have travelled distances sufficient nearly to go around 
the globe three times ; I have preached not far from eight 
thousand sermons ; I have baptized one thousand two 
hundred and seventy-eight." The Massachusetts Baptist 
Missionary Society was sending its laborers into !Maine 
and Vermont, New York and Pennsylvania. There was 
no " Massachusetts State Convention " for the aid of feeble 
churches, but every Saturday aftei"noon Mr. Ensign Lin- 
coln left his bookstore in Cornhill, entered his chaise and 
drove to Canton or Hingham to nourish some infant church, 
or to strengthen the things that were I'eady to die. 

Throughout jNIassachusetts, Unitarianism held predom- 
inant influence. While Harvard University imbued the 
best intellect and the highest culture of the state with an- 
imosity to evangelical piety, the decision of Chief Justice 

the Baptist denomination in New England," estimated that if the 
executive seat of the Board was located in Boston, and if public 
confidence was restored, " we believe that $600 could be collected 
from the three Baptist churches in Boston; $200 from Salem; 
$100 from Cambridgcport; and $50 each from Charlestown, 
Reading, Haverhill, Methuen, Roxburj, Beverly, Danvers, Mid- 
dleboro', Pawtucket, and Providence, besides $100 at least from the 
Worcester and from the Old Colony Associations." 


Parker threw all church property Into the hands of the 
society^ to the annihilation of the rights of the spiritual 
body, leaving many of the Orthodox churches houseless. 

In the metropolis of New England these tendencies 
were intensified. In a city of from forty to forty-five 
thousand inhabitants, only two Congregational pulpits, 
the Park Street and Old South, uttered the doctrines of the 
Reformation. Dr. Baldwin was preaching in the Second 
Baptist Church, and Dr. Sharp, then in the prime of his 
powers, at Charles Street. There were also three Episco- 
pal and two Methodist churches. But the wealth, the 
social influence, the cultured intellect, and the political 
power of the city were found each Sabbath in Brattle 
Street, where the echoes of Buckminister and Everett 
seemed to linger, and where now was heard the scholarly 
Palfrey, or they were gathered to listen to Dr. Frothingham 
in Chauncy Place, or to Dr. Lowell at the West Church, or 
joined in reciting the ritual of King's Chapel, or yielded 
themselves to the spell of Channing's glowing eloquence 
and generous sentiments. 

Only a few plain people found their way down to 
hear the awkward young stranger, just settled at the 
North End. No crowd thronged the long plank walk 
that led from the street back to the old and unat- 
tractive wooden meeting-house, nor did any benches 
obstruct the aisles, as Mr. Winslow, the sexton, with 
the dignity of a beadle, gravely preceded the minister, 
and ushered him into the desk. Nor was the new 
minister a man calculated speedily to draw a crowded 
house, and impart popularity to a waning interest. His 
manner in the pulpit was unattractive ; he was tall, 
lean, angular, ungraceful, spoke with but little action, 
rarely withdrawing his hands from his jDOckets save to 
turn a leaf, his eye seldom meeting the sympathetic eye 
of the auditor. To those who conversed with him, he 
appeared abstracted and embarrassed. The work of 



composition was laborious, and, with his habits of study, 
consumed so much time as to leave him little leisure to 
win, by personal intercourse, the affections of the people. 
They, perhaps, compared him unfavorably with one of 
his predecessors, who sometimes wrote his afternoon ser- 
mon during the intermission on Sunday noon, and natu- 
rally could afford to be at ease, and to give much time to 
social demands. 

The minority were determined to make up in ac- 
tivity and persistence what they lacked in numbers. 
Anonymous letters had been written to a former pastor, 
of unusually sensitive spirit, with much success. He had 
taken them into the pulpit and read them in public, show- 
ing to the writers how deeply their shots had taken effect. 
vSimilar letters now began to reach Mr. Wayland, ridi- 
culing his awkwardness, and enlarging on every fault 
he had, and on many that he had not. Meanwhile, Rev. 
Mr. E., the choice of the minority, had been settled 
in an adjoining town ; and his partial friends, refusing 
to sit under the preaching of Mr. Wayland, would toil 
out three or four miles to hear their favorite, and then 
would come into the evening meeting and narrate how 
they had been blessed, and how glad that good man was 
to see them, and how he hoped they would come again. 

They were anxious, too, that Mr, E, should preach in 
the pulpit of the First Church, on an exchange with the 
pastor. But against this the leading members of the 
church, especially the pastor's official advisers, the dea- 
cons, protested. To allow him in the pulpit would en- 
courage the disaffected, and would result in unsettling 
Mr. Wayland. 

It was well for the young pastor that he had not only 
learned meekness of the Lord Jesus, but had gained 
worldly wisdom, and knowledge of human nature, under 
the sage Dr. Nott. Mr. AVayland, from the beginning, 
steadily refused to be informed who in the congregation 

VOL. I. 9 


were friendly to him, and who were unfriendly. He 
would not have any obstacle put in the way of his treating 
all with perfect and impartial friendliness. The anony 
mous letters, as fast as received, were spi'ead before the 
Lord, in his closet, and then put in the fire. They were 
never spoken of, save as in after months the writers came 
to him, and, with tears of shame and sorrow, confessed 
their authorship, and begged forgiveness. 

The course of the disaffected members in leaving 
their own church for another, was regarded by many 
as a violation of the covenant, and was animadverted on 
in church meeting. It was urged that the offending 
members should be subjected to discipline. This sug- 
gestion the pastor utterly opposed. He was not at all 
surprised that they did not like his preaching. He was 
sure he did not like it himself; and he regarded it 
as their duty to go where they found themselves most 
edified. As the distance to their favorite sanctuarv 
was considerable, and as many of them were poor, he 
thought that the church ought to supply them with car- 
riages ; and he offered to unite in subscribing to procure 
them. There was no further complaint on that ground, 
and the practice ceased. 

As for the brother's preaching in the pulpit, the 
pastor, for the only time in all his ministry, set himself in 
absolute opposition to the deacons and to all his counsel- 
lors. If his relation to the church was of so precarious 
a tenure as to be affected by the fiictof Mr. E.'s preaching 
in his pulpit, the sooner it was terminated the better. 
Mr. E. was invited to preach. For some reason he 
preferred to preach at the Wednesday evening service. 
Notice was given alike from the pulpit and in the daily 
papers ; the service was removed to the upper part of the 
meeting-house ; the evening came ; the pastor occupied 
the desk with him, and shared in the services. But the 
people did not come ; the audience was small ; and the 


dreaded minister, who depended for his inspiration upon 
a crowded and sympathizing audience, was greatly 
straitened. Nothing more was said on the subject, nor 
was any desire expressed for a repetition of the act of 

One young man, a member of the church, came to see 
the pastor, and frankly said to him, " I don't know how 
it is, but I am not interested in your preaching. I have 
no doubt it is deep, but I don't understand it, and I do not 
feel edified by it." JSlr. Wayland said to him, " My dear 
brother, you have done right in coming to me ; you have 
acted a Christian part. I feel that it is my duty to preach 
the gospel. I studied medicine, and began to practise ; 
but God said to me, ' Wayland, you must preach the gos- 
pel.' I came here because God seemed to call me here. 
But I do not blame you for not liking my preaching, or 
for not being edified by it. I hope you will go where you 
find yourself most blessed. I shall not be offended. Go 
to hear Dr. Baldwin, or brother Sharp ; they are both 
good men." By this time both the pastor and the dissat- 
isfied brother were in tears. The latter henceforth found 
Mr. Wayland the clearest and most edifying preacher he 
had ever heard. 

In time the pastor learned that one of the minority, an 
honest and worthy tradesman, was embarrassed in busi- 
ness. He called to sec him. The brother opened his heart 
and his business, and said, " I could go on if it were not 
for what I owe Mr. John B. Jones " (a wealthy merchant, 
afterwards of the firm of Jones, Lows, and Ball). INIr. 
Wayland at once called to see Mr. Jones, and asked him 
to accommodate the person in question with more time. 
Mr. Jones readily promised to let him have all the time 
he vv^ished, and to sell him more goods if he desired. He 
was saved from failure by this timely interposition, and 
became a prosperous and benevolent man of business. 

Thus by personal kindness, by a regard to the precept, 


" Cherish the hearts that hate thee," by obedience to the 
diviner wisdom of the Sermon on the Mount, and of the 
twelfth chapter of Romans, he gained the affections of all.* 
Meanwhile he was growing in confidence and ease of 
address, alike in public and in private. As he became 
better acquainted with his people, his sermons naturally 
were more in sympathy with their circumstances of es- 
tate and feeling. In his week-day evening lecture, he 
adopted a freer and unwritten style of address, and found 
it in time the pleasantest sei'vice of the week. And the 
evident sincerity of all his words, his avoidance of formal 
and empty utterances, his deep but unparaded piety, his 
conscientiousness, his elevated manhood, — all these could 
not but be seen and felt. The few who would not be won 
over, went elsewhere, and those who remained, as well as 
those who were added, found themselves undergoing a 
process of education, and learned to follow with delight 
and with profit his consecutive trains of thought, his clear 
processes of reasoning, his close analysis, his profound 
meaning, and intense spirituality. " They became Way- 
landites ; not because of any peculiar doctrine taught by 
him," f but because of the influence which his modes of 
thought exerted in moulding their mental and spiritual 

Rev. Dr. Sharp to Rev. F. Wayland, Sr. : — 

" My dear and respected Brother : I often reflect with 
much pleasure on the interview I recently enjoyed with 
you in Boston. The interesting event which brought you 
here awakened sympathies which I still love to cherish. 

" Your worthy son came here under very peculiar cir- 

* Rev. Rufus Anderson, D. D., says, " A characteristic remark 
of his in the first year of our acquaintance became afterwards one 
of my governing maxims. I was expressing a determination to 
cut loose from the acquaintance of some one who had disobliged 
me, when he sharply responded, ' Anderson, never make an 
enemy ! ' " 

t Rev. Dr. Pattison's Discourse. 


cumstances : a previous attachment to another minister, 
and a little self-will withal, occasioned a larger minority 
in the church than was agreeable. But I believe they were 
in such a situation that they would not have been entirely 
united on any man. I have never had any conversation 
with any of the minority except one, and when I saw him 
he expressed much satisfaction with the preaching of his 
pastor. I believe that is the case with some others. ISIy 
own opinion has always been, that if he stays with them 
seven years, they will like him seven times better than 
they do now. 

"It is very much the case at the present day, and per- 
haps it always has been, that the generality of people are 
more pleased with sound than sense. Your son has a 
very respectable share of the latter, and I trust he will 
have sufficient of the former to please his people. Alas ! 
what false estimates men make of real worth ! I i-emember 
my old minister in England once inquired of a plain, 
simple countryman, how his minister got along. ' O,' said 
he, ' he improves wonderfully ; he speaks louder and 
louder.' " 

Mr. Wayland to a younger brother, who was employed 
as a clerk : — 

" I fear lest you should think I neglect you, which I 
certainly would not do. I feel the deepest concern for 
vour welfare, temporal and eternal, and I assure you I 
would do every thing to promote it. Nothing would so 
much delight me as to hear of your success in business, 
and especially of your soul's prosperity. But I have been 
very much hurried since I have been here, and have had 
time scarcely to write to anybody. You people who 
have so much leisure time, who have only to sell your 
goods and buy others, and post your accounts, can form 
but little idea of the toils, the labors, and the anxieties of 
a man who has every week to make a fresh mental exer- 
tion, which must be brought before the public. Especial- 
ly is this labor oppressive in the case of a minister 
who enters a new situation. He has friends to make, 
acquaintances to form, difficulties to surmount, which 
men in private situations know nothing of. I hope, my 
brother, you continue in the practice of virtue and recti- 
tude. Beware of your companions. Beware of the first 


approaches to temptation. Let your eye, ' e'en fixed on 
vacant space, beam keen witli honor.' Lay down for your- 
self the loftiest principles of mercantile integrity, even 
those prescribed in the word of God, and resoK'e never 
to swerve from them. No matter how frequent the 
opportunities, no matter hov/ urgent the temptation, be 
always yourself. And in disposing of goods act on the 
same principles. Do recollect how base it is, for the 
sake of a sixpence, to defile your mouth with a lie. Do 
recollect how awful it is, to gain the favor of an employer, 
by forfeiting the favor of the infinite Jehovah. I know 
there are little-minded men who have always at hand a 
set of cool arguments, by which they endeavor to justify 
iniquitous dealing. If tliey charge a man who is igno- 
rant of an article twice as much as it is worth, they cover 
it by saying, they did not oblige him to take it. If they 
sell a man an article not worth carrying home, they will 
tell you that every man must look out for himself; and a 
thousand such falsehoods. How despicable is all this trum- 
pery ! IIow weak, as well as how wicked ! O, how sub- 
limely does the maxim of our Savior tower above all this ! 
— ' As ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even 
so unto them.' My brother, if you wish to sleep soundly 
at night, if you wish to enjoy a high reputation, if you 
wish to please your God, make this your motto. Do 
you say that this will not allow you to get rich? I do not 
believe it. I believe honesty will at last be found the best 
policy. But if not, if you cannot grow rich thus, what then? 
Who cares? Who would barter away his character for 
gold? If he did, O, how unspeakably contemptible would 
be his exchange ! I should esteem it a high honor to have it 
said of any of my relations. He was poor because he could 
not honestly become rich. And above all, what shall a man 
gain if he acquire the whole world and lose his own soul ? 
O, how unspeakably awful would be the reficction in 
eternity, that a man had oflended his Maker, had treasured 
up for himself wrath for the sake of riches, which take to 
themselves wings and fiy away ! " 

To Mr. Alonzo Potter : — 

"November 19, 1S21. 

" IIow wise and benevolent, my brother, are the arrange- 
ments of Providence ! In nothing do I admire them more 


than in the facility with which the mind adapts itself to 
change of circumstances. I should have hardly believed 
it possible that I coidd so soon have entered into all the 
duties and feelings of my new calling. I feel now all my 
soul concentrated in the First Church, Boston. It is to me 
a little world. I scarcely care about anybody else's folks 
or anybody else's world. I scarcely care about influence, 
or popularity, or anything out of it. If I can only see 
them rise steadily in the tone of their piety, and bring 
religion more thoroughly out into all their conduct, so 
that their light may shine, so that they may be as the 
mountains of Zion where the Lord commanded his bless- 
ing, I want nothing more. INIy salary is, so long as I 
am vmmarried, abundant. It is paid punctually as the 
town clock, every month. The people are becoming 
united, if I am not much misinformed. The attention on 
Sabbath is imiformly good ; and I believe that they are 
not very much elated with the idea of anybody else going 
into the pulpit. I ought to be thankful to God. I hope 
that I am. Three have joined the church since I came. 
Several will, I think, shortl}'. The congregation is some- 
what increased, and I think in some instances a decided 
moral eflect has been produced. It is certainly a cause 
for great gratitude. I would not change my people for an}'' 
people in Boston. I have but very little visiting and tea- 
drinking to do. I know I have more time to read than 
most ministers in the place. I can, if in good health, 
write my two sermons without dilliculty. My health is 
generally good. If a man has a grateful heart, what more 
can he want? My deacons and their families would do 
anything for me. 

'•'' 1 wish, my dear Potter, that you w'ere settled here. 
But I suppose it will never be. Do you ever go to Troy? 
If you can find out anything about my brother J., do let 
me know of it. ISIy heart is bound up in that fellow. 
When you can without inconvenience, just look upon 

To the same : — 

" December 3, 1821. 

"... From lively to severe. — I rejoice, my brother, 
that you contemplate so soon taking upon you your vows. 
You will never repent of it. Should Providence open to 


you a way of usefulness where you are, I have not a v/ord 
to say. Do what seems best, what seems most for the 
interest of the church ; do as you think you will be most 
useful. But, allow me to say, Providence has gifted you 
with talents for public life, a head to plan and a hand to 
execute, which in such a situation would be lost. You 
ought, mc jiidlcc^ to be in the ministry. Would God that 
you were here ! About your health I do not think that 
you need to be concerned. I am — I say it deliberately — 
in better health than when in S. I have better spirits. 
I walk every morning an hour before breakfast, and 
unless some bad weather or a cold interrujDts, have 
clear mental vision generally. I have almost every 
week written two sermons. I have not studied much, it 
is true. I have, however, done something, and hope to 
do more. I really think that you would enjoy better 
health in the ministry than you do at present. If you 
will come and live under my eye, I will warrant you." 

To his sister, Mrs. S. : — 

" O, my dear sister, I wish you were here. I wish you 
were my hearer. You cannot tell how much I want two 
such hearers as vou and Mr. S. It would be worth half 
my salary. I have no one on whose judgment I can 
so safely rely ; and then I dare not ask my people freely or 
frequently, for fear of appearing vain to them, or really 
becoming vain. My society is rather prospering, I hope. 
They pay good attention to preaching — very rarely get. 
asleep. I do not know that I have seen one asleep for 
some months ; and they very rarely look at the clock when I 
preach longer. The most pious and intelligent are iny 
best friends, and, I believe, think themselves profited by 
what they hear. There have been a few instances of 
awakening. One young woman — I mention it as a some- 
what singular case — was awakened a few weeks since 
by a sermon from the text, " Let us go on imto perfection." 
It was remarkable that a sermon addressed wholly to 
Christians should be the means of awakening a sinner. 
It is somewhat laborious to jDreach twice a week ; but, 
alas ! it is much more difficult to practise habitually the 
principles of the gospel than to exhibit them. That is, 
after all, the most important part of a minister's duty — to 


live near to God, and keep eternity always in view. O 
that I had the spirit of Henry !Martyn, of Samuel Pearce, 
and of the apostle Paul ! But God can give it to me. 
Sometimes I think I feel a little of it; but a deceitful heart 
soon leads me astray. Let us, my dear, go on unto per- 
fection. ..." 

To his brother : — 

"... I want very much to hear about you and your 
business. I hope you are pleased with your situation. 
The happiness of situation does not depend upon exter- 
nal circumstances. I could be, I think, perfectly suited 
in j'our j^lace, if it seemed my duty to occupy it. If 
it kept me busy, employment would be occupation ; 
if it gave me leisure, I would occupy the time in profita- 
ble reading. A man with a well-furnished mind never 
need be unhappy, unless from moral causes. Thei'e is a 
pleasure in acquiring knowledge. There is a pleasure in 
reflecting upon what we have learned. There is a pleas- 
ure in communicating it to others. If you want to be a 
man of influence in society, you must have information, 
real, solid information. You must be able to hold a con- 
versation with men of sense. You must know something 
more than the contents of novels. A man never grew 
strong, by feeding on whipped syllabub. He must read 
works of sense, and he must reflect on what he reads. He 
must learn to have a respect for himself. He must feel 
that he is able to form an opinion for himself, and that 
that opinion is not worthless. Look about you, my broth- 
er, and survey the men — especially the young men — by 
whom you arc surrounded. They can dress. They can 
discuss the merits of an oyster supper, or a glass of beer, 
or the looks of an actor or an actress, or the dress of 
the guests at a party, or perhaps the price of a piece of 
goods. If they are not- cut oft", they float useless through 
the world ; they lie down forgotten in the grave, having 
pi^oduccd no more impression on the world than the horses 
they have driven, and they rise in another world to ever- 
lasting contemjDt. 

* Ye dreamers of gaj dreams, 
How will ye weather an eternal night 
When such expedients fail?' 


And arc you contented to be such a man? Are you 
willing to grovel with such grub-worms? O, flee from 
them. Look zipward. Think that you are designed 
for eternity. Cast behind your back all their allure- 
ments, and be yourself. Assert the dignity of man. Im- 
prove yourself, and place your name among those of the 
men who have not lived in vain." 

To Mr. Potter, upon receiving news of his engage- 
ment to the accomplished daughter of Dr. Nott : — 

" May 24, 1822. 

" My dear Potter : You can conceive better than I can 
describe the emotions with which I read your most wel- 
come letter. Though the intelligence it contained was 
scarcely unexpected, yet it sent a thrill through mc, which 
vibrated in every fibre. It affected so nearly two per- 
sons for whom I felt so deep an interest, that, stoic as 
I am, I could not sit still for half an hour. VVhcn the 
rush of feelings had begun to subside, so that the several 
individual ones were taking each its proper locality, the 
first which I recognized was most fervent and hearty 
thanks to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, for 
the blessing which he had conferred upon you. To him 
I rendered my feeble tribute of gratitude, that two persons 
whom I most tenderly loved were made happy for life. 
You are worthy of each other. In the affections of such 
a woman, my brother, you have a treasure for which you 
might well barter away the mines of Golconda or the 
honors of an empire. I bless God she is yours. But rec- 
ollect, my brother, Dcus hccc otia fecit. I need not add, 
Sit ille tibi semper Deus. May this renewed expression 
of his kind providence bind you still more strongly to love 
and serve him. O, let not the richest gifts of his provi- 
dence withdraw you from the Giver. The longer we 
live, the more shall we be convinced that nothing will 
make this life happy or death triumphant, but a con- 
sciousness that we are living for God. This alone be- 
stows any dignity on the little transitory scene which 
surrounds us, and makes every action big with conse- 
quences of infinite happiness. 

" There are a thousand reasons why I want you here. 


I always knew your intellectual endowments were more 
numerous and more excellent than mine. But I thought 
that in those points where I was best endowed, we had 
great community of views and of feelings. You are one 
of the few men whom I have found in my pilgrimage, 
whom, in all the length and breadth of the term, I could 
call my friend. It would have been delightful to have 
had you here : it would have been improving to me. 
But what is the use of talking? Providence has other- 
wise ordered it, and he knows exactly what is best. 
There I leave it. ^lay God grant you grace to be a 
fiiithful and successful minister of the New Testament. 
I long to hear you preach." 

To his mother : — 

"... And first, as my father wrote respecting my 
health, I assure you my health is better than it was last 
summer at this time. It has been in general better dur- 
ing the year than during the last year I was at Schenec- 
tady ; and I also assure you that, should my health require 
it, I will visit you this summer. I hardly think that other- 
wise it will be my duty. Still I do not speak with cer- 
tainty. A very little may alter my determination. You 
think I am a bad economist. I in part plead guilty. I, 
however, am improving. Certainly you could desire no 
stronger proof of the power of my economical principles 
than their keeping me here when I wish so much to see 
you. To-day we received one — a very hopeful convert — 
by baptism. Last communion we received two. I hope 
on the next we shall receive three or four more. These 
are, it is true, few ; but we have reason to be thankful for 
any, and I think we have reason to bless God that those 
who have been received have been so promising. I could 
not wish them different in character or ajjpearance. 
May the Lord multiply the number abundantly. We have 
some who are still inquiring. I hope the spiritual state of 
the churches is improving. There is an increase of a 
spirit of prayer and brotherly love. 

" As it regards myself, I daily see myself more as an 
unprofitable and useless servant. If I am at all favored 
by the assistance of the Holy Spirit, I grow careless, and 
have to measure back my way with sorrow and mourn- 


ing. If I am favored with success in my literary pursuits 
or ministerial labors, I grow proud ; and then I am obliged 
to be brought down by disappointment and trial. Still I 
hope the year I have spent here has not been wholly use- 
less to me in a religious view. I hope I have seen more 
of my own heart, and something more of the excellency 
of holiness, and have had some desires awakened, to be 
made perfect in the image of God. . . ." 

To Mr. Potter : — 

" December 15, 1822. 

" You may possibly have heard that I came within a 
fraction of seeing Schenectady, the canal, and the hill 
folks this autumn. I started on horseback, — by the way, 
I am quite an accomplished equestrian, — and had pro- 
gressed more than halfway, when a variety of unforeseen 
accidents — among them the laming of a horse (a valua- 
ble and a borrowed one) — made it necessary that I should 
return. I had with me, also, a companion whose health 
I thought might require it. I shall not attempt to in- 
form you — for it would be a failure — how I revelled 
in all the luxury of anticipation, in the thought of 
spending twenty-four hours on the hill. I saw Maria,* 
and talked with her fifty times. I sat up with Dr. N. in 
his study until midnight, was rallied out of countenance 
by Mrs. Nott, held a meeting of the triumvii'ate with you 
and Joe, and talked and reasoned until my brain was 
almost crazed. O, it was nothing but imagination pic- 
turing forth the forms of things unknown, which may 
never have a ' local habitation and a name.' I am still 
two hundred miles from most that I love. The Con- 
necticut rolls its dark wave, and the Green Mountains lift 
their cloud-capped summits between us. Still we arc 
watched over by the same Providence ; and, what is more 
than all, hope we are interested in the same blood of the 
atonement. We may all taste of the same promise, and 
anticipate the hour when, freed from these bodies of sin 
' and death, we shall stand around the throne triumphant. 
I want very much to see the doctor. There are fifty 
questions which I desire to ask him. There are as many 

* The daughter of Dr. Nott, afterwards the wife of Bishop Potter. 


measures with reference to the church in these parts, and 
to the Baptist church in particular, that I want to pro- 
pose. His last letter was worth its weight thrice told in 
the gold of Ophir. If it were not for plaguing him, I 
would write often. I received a letter from John a few 
days since. He is going to enter the ministry. I have 
good reason to hope that he is a thorough Christian. I 
know not where to send him to prepare for college." 






jR. WAYLAND always remembered with affection 
and gratitude the brethren of the laity, and of the 
ministry with whom he was associated in Boston. He 
was a young man, a stranger, unaccustomed to the usages 
of New England, and not gi^eatly versed in intercourse 
with the world. He always attributed much of whatever 
success attended him to the sagacious common sense and 
the judicious counsel of these brethren, and ascribed much 
of his happiness to their kind and fraternal cooperation. 

First among these it is proper to name the honored 
Thomas Baldwin. Of him Dr. Wayland writes, — 

" He was a man of strong native mind, and great sweet- 
ness of disposition, and, at the time of which I speak, was, 
I think, more universally I'espected than any other clei'gy- 
man in the city. His appearance was remarkably vener- 
able, his address coiuteous and winning ; he was the 
oldest minister in town, and every clergyman, of what- 
ever denomination, took pleasure in doing him revei'ence. 
The precise place which he occupied in Boston I have 
never seen filled since his decease. He was always known 
as a wise counsellor, perfectly honest, always inclining to 
peace, yet never sacrificing principle." 

One circumstance brought Mr. Wayland into peculiarly 
intimate relations to this excellent man and to his family. 
Upon reaching Boston at the time of his settlement, it 
was a matter of no little difficulty to select a boarding- 
place. To reside with one of the majority would throw 


obstacles in the way of conciliating those who had hitherto 
opposed him, and of uniting the church, while to be so 
closely associated with those who avowedly disliked him 
and his preaching would be sufficiently unpleasant to all 
parties. Nor could the fact that he was a young man and 
unmarried be ignored in his selection of a home. The 
neutral ground of Dr. Baldwin's house presented a sanc- 
tuary from the strife of tongues ; and this was his abode for 
the first eighteen months of his residence in Boston. In 
the obituary notice of Dr. B. in the Baptist Magazine, 
February, 1826, Mr. Wayland says, — 

" The writer of this feeble attempt to delineate his char- 
acter was for four years in the habit of seeing him daily, 
on terms of the most familiar intercourse, and for nearly 
half of this time was a member of his family, and re- 
marked his deportment under every variety of circum- 
stances ; and he can truly say, that he does not recollect 
ever to have seen him betray a temper inconsistent with 
the Christian profession." 

Of another associate in the ministry. Dr. Wayland 

" Dr. Sharp was several years younger. He was of 
natural strong sense, great simplicity of character, uncom- 
promising love of truth, and unspotted purity of life. To 
both of these brethren I was greatly indebted for their 
uniform kindness and courtesy. Never do I remember 
that a harsh word, or even an unkind look, marred the 
pleasure of our intercourse. We made it an object to 
unite our churches in the bonds of Christian affection. 
For this purpose we had, as far as possible, services to- 
gether, which were always well attended. Dr. Baldwin 
was in the habit of being present at my preparatory lec- 
ture, and I reciprocated the courtesy. On one Sabbath 
evening in each month we had a union lecture for the 
three churches, held with each in succession, each min- 
ister preaching in his own meeting-house. Our monthly 
concerts were, in like manner, united ; and it was the duty 
of the pastor, in whose church the meeting was held, to 
prepare the intelligence which had been received for the 
last month from all portions of the missionary world." 


Of his lay brethren he writes, — 

" I was forewarned by various persons that the church 
was governed by the deacons, and that their government 
partook of the nature of a despotism. My friends sin- 
cerely pitied me when they learned that I was to be sub- 
jected to the rule of men who had controlled the church 
for twenty years. Never were predictions more falsified. 
I do not remember that an unkind word ever passed the 
lips of either of us in conversation with each other. They 
were honest but thoroughly kind advisers, and were 
throughout my most intimate and esteemed friends, 

" Deacon Prince Snow, a grocer at the North End, 
was a man of incorruptible integrity, sound-minded and 
consistent piety, and strong attachment to the doctrines 
of the gospel. The First Baptist Church was the object 
of his unwavering and enthusiastic love. Whatever af- 
fected its prosperity touched him to the quick. By its 
pi'osperity, I do not mean fine buildings or worldly adorn- 
ments, but its growth in grace, and its faultless adhe- 
rence to the teachings of the Lord Jesus. During a year 
of extraordinary and sudden pressure. Deacon Snow was 
unable to meet his payments. He took counsel with his 
friends, and, in accordance with their advice, made an as- 
signment of all his property to his creditors. The church 
at once took action in the premises, and appointed a com- 
mittee to examine his affairs. After a thorough examina- 
tion, they reported that there had been nothing unfavorable 
to his Christian character. In the end, his property paid 
every creditor, principal and interest, with all the expenses 
of the assignment, and left a thousand dollars remaining. 
This is the only failure of this kind that I have ever 

" Deacon James Loring was quite a remarkable man. 
He was a printer and bookseller. A close observer of hu- 
man nature, of great accuracy of judgment, possessing 
entire control of his feelings, and when once his mind was 
made up, of unwavering consistency of purpose, he was 
one to whom, in time of doubt and trial, men instinctively 
turned. He seemed made for a deacon. Always in his 
place at all the meetings, his voice was heard on every 
proper occasion in prayer and conference. He did not 
speak because it was expected, and evening after evening 


repeat the same address, but he always presented some 
one of the distinguishing doctrinesof the New Testament, 
and brought it home to his present hearers. He never spoke 
unless he had something to say, and he always stopped 
when he had done. His piety, whether in prosperity or 
in adversity, was ever the same. He habitually referred 
everything to God, and seemed pleased with all that 
occurred, because God had ordered it. 

" His reading was extensive, his mind clear and discrimi- 
nating. He frequently wrote for the public papers, and 
always with ability. As is often the case with print- 
ers, though unacquainted with the rules of grammar, he 
wrote with entire grammatical accuracy. In company 
with the late Mr. Weston, he established the Christian 
Watchman. Whenever the deacons of the churches of 
different denominations met, to consider modes of action 
which required the union of all the churches, I doubt 
if any among them had more acknowledged weight of 
character than Deacon Loring. He was, from the first to 
the last, my firmly attached friend. 

" No one who remembers the period of my pastorate, 
can fail to recognize the executive officer of the society, 
Mr. Samuel Winslow, the sexton. Under his direction 
everything about the meeting-house, both without and 
within, was kept in perfect order. He was a man of 
small stature, but of unusual physical strength and of lion- 
hearted courage. I was told that on one occasion, when 
a young man behaved improperly in front of the meeting- 
house, and replied insolently to a very proper reproof, 
Mr. W. seized him at once and threw him over the fence. 
All who remember those times wnll see him in their 
mind's eye, with his hair combed back and formed into a 
long queue, reverently preceding the minister from the 
meeting-house door to the pulpit stairs. He watched over 
me with paternal care. When he saw me do anything 
which would cause unkind remark, he would tell me of it, 
as he would one of his children. I always thanked him, 
and, what was better, always took his advice.* He was 

* Dr. Wayland has related that Mr. Winslow once said to him 
with considerable concern, "I saw that yesterday, in attending a 
funeral, you wore white stockings. That would excite remark, and 
be thought very unbecoming." Mr. Wayland thanked him sin- 

VOL. I. 10 


a vei'y pious man, the finest model of a thorough Puritan 
that I have ever seen. ' Peace to the memory of a man 
of v^OYth: " 

Dr. Wayland sometimes mentioned a fact in the life 
of Mr. Winslow which he regarded as entitling him to 
enduring praise. We believe it happened before Mr. 
Wayland's settlement. The custom had long prevailed 
of offering intoxicating liquors to the attendants at funer- 
als. Though the gross indecorum of the usage had often 
made itself painfully obvious, yet no one ventured to dis- 
turb it, lest, to omit the customary provision should seem 
a mark of meanness or (more dreaded still) of poverty. 
It was reserved for Mr. Winslow to declare, that he would 
not take charge of a funeral where liquor was used ; and 
in no long time his example and his firm adherence to 
his resolve put an end to the usage. 

Dr. Wayland writes further, — ? 

" Several of the ladies connected with the church 
were women of eminent piety, full of mercy and good 
fruits, who aided me more than I can describe, in culti- 
vating the graces of the younger members of the church, 
and training them for usefulness. Soon after my settle- 

cerelj, and carefully heeded his suggestion. This incident illus- 
trates his readiness to receive advice from whatever quarter. 
While he trusted greatly to his own meditations for principles and 
general laws, yet in practical matters he courted advice. One of 
his friends has said, " I was always afraid to advise him, for he 
was disposed to give more weight to my advice than I thought it 
was entitled to." 

This incident also illustrates his desire to avoid any needless 
appearance of eccentricity. In matters of duty, of righteousness, 
he was willing to stand absolutely alone; but as to the minor 
details of life, of dress and deportment, he sometimes said, "I 
have important things which I wish to accomplish, and I will not 
needlessly do anything that will distract the attention of people 
to minor matters, or that will create opposition to me, or shake 
their confidence in my judgment. There is scarcely any reputa- 
tion which is so valuable to a man, nor any that may so easily be 
lost, as a reputation for good sense." 


ment a female prayer-meeting was established, which 
met every week, on Wednesday afternoon, at the house 
of Deacon Snow. This meeting was continued without 
interruption as long as I remained. They prayed much 
for the church and for their pastor, and I believe that their 
prayers were heard. In another respect their aid was in- 
valuable. Whenever I knew of a female in the consfre- 
gation who was at all anxious about her soul's salvation, I 
took pains to have her acquainted with some one of these 
ladies. They called to see her, and invited her to the 
prayer-meeting, gave her suitable advice, prayed for her, 
and used all means in their power to lead her to Christ. 
I also introduced to them every recent convert whom they 
had not before known. Ladies who joined the church, 
or proposed to join, from abroad, were introduced to them 
in like manner. Thus thev all had the blessing: of enter- 
ing at once upon an acquaintance with warm-hearted 
Christians. In this manner the plants of grace, nurtured 
in a congenial soil, grew rapidly. When there was only 
the appearance^ not the reality^ of religion, it was also 
discovered before the person applied for admission to the 
church. All this was a great assistance in my ministry. 

"When I became pastor, I found the church meetings 
by no means occasions of edification. A few brethren 
seemed resolutely to have determined that there should be 
no division in the church, and seemed to foresee inevitable 
division if their views did not prevail on every occasion. 
They could sec no hope of harmony unless the large 
majority quietly submitted to their dictation. The idea 
that they themselves were to submit to reason and to the 
will of others, or that others had rights as well as them- 
selves, never had penetrated their minds. They consumed 
the time with loud and angry speeches and reiterated fore- 
bodings of impending discord, unless the whole church 
adopted their sentiments. It was at last determined by 
the brethren, in no case to answer them, but to proceed 
quietly and resolutely with the business. This put an end 
to altercation, and before long an unkind word was never 
heard in our meetings. As soon as our little matters of 
business were disposed of, the remaining time was spent 
in devotion, and the church meetings became our pleas- 
antest gathering's. 

" A word in respect to the discipline of the church. I 


have referred to the failure of Deacon »Snow. The in- 
tegrity of no man in Boston was more unsulhed. As, 
however, faiku'cs frequently brought great dishonor on 
the cause of Christ, the church felt itself bound to make 
no exceptions, and to ascertain by their own commit- 
tee that failure was attended with no loss of moral 

" I will i-elate another case of discipline, because it 
shows the manner in which this duty was then performed. 
Information was privately communicated to me that a 
prominent member of the church was in the habit of play- 
ing cards, perhaps of gambling, accompanied not un- 
frequently by partial intoxication. I at once requested 
the person to call on me, and told him what I had heard. 
At length he confessed that the accusation was true. I 
then endeavored to set before him the nature of his sin, 
and urged him to repentance and reformation. I saw 
him several times, and at last he seemed penitent, and 
promised reformation. I then considered the matter settled. 
But he soon returned to these habits, and the matter, be- 
coming public, was brought before the church. He was 
suspended from communion, and a committee appointed to 
bring him, if possible, to repentance. The committee at 
length reported favorably upon his case ; he appeared 
penitent, and it was voted that he should be restored, after 
a solemn admonition in joresence of the church. This 
admonition was administered by the pastor, and I think 
that those are now living who remember it as an occasion 
of great solemnity. But all our labor proved vain. He re- 
lapsed, was excluded, was afterwards seized with a sudden 
attack while at the gambling table, and in a few moments 
was in eternity. He was lost ; but we had done our duty, 
and had faithfully labored to reclaim him, and his con- 
duct was no repi-oach to the church." 

Outside of his own denomination Mr. Wayland's per- 
sonal relations wei*e limited. With Mr. Dwight, of the 
Park Street Church, whose mental powers he highly ap- 
preciated, he enjoyed a pleasant acquaintance. His most 
intimate friend was Mr. Wisner. They were nearly of 
the same age, had many interests, associations, and ac- 
quaintances in common, and were united by the memory of 

MR. WISNER. 149 

reciprocal kind offices. They walked together almost daily, 
comparing their readings and reflections, and debating 
every topic that interested the mind of either. In the 
summer of 1822 Mr. Wisner took a journey to recruit his 
health, and during his absence Mr. Wayland writes to him 
as follows : — 

" I rejoice that your journey, up to the last advices, was 
so prosperous. My joy was somewhat damped by your 
remarking, that 'you were as well as when you left.' 
I had hoped you would have been much better. How- 
ever, I think that your principal benefit will be de- 
rived from the use of Saratoga water. I hope you will 
try it faithfully and thoroughly, and according to the most 
approved directions. I am of opinion that your stomach 
received a shock at Princeton from which it has never 
entirely recovered. Give it a chance at the Springs. Do 
not come away until you have made a persevering trial. 
Let your other arrangements bend to that. Do not get 
ennui. If I were you, I would take an hour or two a day 
to write sermons, or study, or read, or something which 
would keep my 'thinkers 'agoing; that will conduce much 
to drive away the blues. Your people are all well. . . . 

"You must see Dr. Nott. I want to hear his opinon 
of the state of things here. Do go and see him. Spend 
a day at least with him. Professor Stuart has gone to 
the Springs, and will probably be there about as soon as 
this arrives. . . . 

" I watched your carriage as it gradually diminished 
along the Mill Dam until it was no longer visible. Then, 
pursuing my journey alone, I thought over the state of the 
case. I followed you from town to town, put up with 
you, &c., and carried you even to Johnstown. ... I should 
have ' admired ' to be one of your party. But fata non 
sinunt. I am more and more convinced of the propriety 
of staying. God is pleased, in great mercy, to grant me 
my health more perfectly than when you were here. My 
appetite is better, and I can study a little more, though but 
little. For the last day or two the weather has been 
refreshing and cool. For the last three Sabbaths I have 
preached wholly without help. So, you see, I am not on 
the sick list. I have had some lonely walks, some groans, 
some hours of dejection ; but I have got along better than 


I expected. I make out to do something at home, and 
take now and then a turn in Poplar Street. The air is 
clear there, you know, and the prospect refreshing. I 
want very much to see you and shake your honest hand. 
But it is good for a man to hope and patiently wait. You 
will have nothing to do at the Springs but write letters. 
Write frequently, and tell me v/here to direct to you. I 
shall inform you immediately if anything should occur of 
interest. May God, my dear brother, grant you speedily 
your health, and return you to your labors. May he 
load you with the blessings of his goodness, and make 
you useful in your journey ; and may we in future preach 
more faithfully, labor more incessantly, and live more 
holily than heretofore." 

" My dear Wisner : I received your letter this moment, 
and, although it is Saturday, delay not to answer it. I 
had been waiting for some time for its reception. Inquiry 
after inquiry had been made about the Bishop of the Old 
South, and all were fruitless. ' Who had received a let- 
ter?' was the prevailing question. No one but Mr. W., 
was the answer, and that was dated three weeks ago. Mr. 
F. came home, but had seen nothing of you. Young A. 
returned, but no news about you. F. received a letter 
from my father, but you had not arrived, and he had 
almost given up the hope of seeing you. More than once 
I went to Deacon Loring's to know if there was anything 
for me at the post office. But no response arrived. Yester- 
day I saw a gentleman who was not personally acquainted 
with you, who said he had seen you at Saratoga. This 
removed my apprehensions (which, to tell you the truth, 
were somewhat serious), that some providential dispensa- 
tion had arrested your progress. I thank you for your 
letter. It appears to have been written without any shade 
of ' blue,' which is rather more than I can say of the other. 
I am very glad that you are so well. I am confident 
that the Congress water will be your grand panacea. Do 
not, by fatiguing travelling, wear yourself down. Travel 
moderately and rest sufficiently. Everything here goes on 
as well as usual. P. and B. supplied for you last Sabbath. 
No deaths have occurred in your parish, that I have heard 
of. The city is healthy. The prayer-meeting goes on 
well. I attended it this week. ... I am rejoiced you 


saw my brother. I hope you talked freely with him. 
I have an idea that God will call him to the ministry. 
If so, he must be educated. This will call me to more 
sharpness of calculation. I shall rejoice if it be so. . . . 

" Do see Dr. N., and talk freely with him about the 
state of things here. Just ask him whether there could be 
any harm in my preaching two or three months on the 
character and offices of Christ, and endeavoring to go as 
fully as possible into the subject. . . . Say to Maria I love 
her very much, but I cannot tell how long it will con- 
tinue, if she does not answer my letter. Remember me 
to all the professors. I groan in spirit to be with you, 
but, as I said before, fata ii07z sinunt. I am perfectly 
convinced that it is better I did not go. In this you will 
doubtless agree when we see each other. I hate to say 
good by. May God bless you." 

From the members of the Unitarian denomination, as 
he became known to them, he received many acts of 
friendship and of social courtesy. Indeed, the relations 
of the Baptists alike to the Orthodox and to the Unitarian 
churches, were not at this time unfriendly. The Or- 
thodox were disposed to make common cause with the 
Baptists in behalf of Calvinism, while the Unitarians, 
never having been of Idn to the Baptists, had no ground 
for a family estrangement, and were disposed to unite 
with them in opposing the demands of the " standing 
order." The fact that the Baptist church in Worcester 
was organized in Dr. Bancroft's meeting-house, was rep- 
resentative of the courtesy which softened the relations 
of the two denominations. 

But it is probable that for the first two years of his 
residence in the city, there were very few outside his 
own denomination who knew of his existence. He owed 
nothing to factitious circumstances, nothing to wealthy 
patrons or influential friends, or to a commanding posi- 
tion accidentally attained. " I never had any one to boost 
me," he has sometimes said. It was just as well ; nay, 
better. It was a part of the lesson of life. He learned 


to leave nothing to good fortune or to friends, but to do 
his own work each day. " All diat I have ever accom- 
plished was by day's works ; " and sometimes he would 
hold up his hands, and tell a story of a minister who 
said that he owed everything to his two deacons, the 
two deacons being his right hand and his left. There 
was nothing that he had of mental acquirement, or of 
elevated thought, or of position, or influence, or reputa- 
tion, but had been fairly won. And yet it was touching 
to hear him sometimes say to young men, " You do not 
have to struggle up from the very bottom, as I have done." 
Of his personal appearance at this time, Rev. Dr. Stow 
speaks thus graphically : — 

" I first saw him at the house of Dr. Baldwin, who 
then lived at the corner of Hanover and Portland Streets. 
This was in June, 1822. A little while before the hour 
for tea, Mrs. Baldwin said, ' Mr. Wayland, pastor of the 
First Church, is boarding with us, and I shall soon intro- 
duce you to him. We think him an extraordinary young 
man, who will yet make his mark.' ' Yes,' remarked Dr. 
B., ' he promises to be one of our ablest thinkers and 
writers.' His personal appearance, as he came down 
from his study, is very fresh in my recollection. With 
a large frame, he was very spare in flesh. His face 
was thin, and the arch of his eyebrows was unlike any- 
thing I had ever seen. His complexion was pale, bor- 
dering on sallow, and I thought he might be a victim of 
incij^ient consumption. When standing, his posture was 
considerably stooping, and his movements seemed to me 
not the most graceful ; indeed, they were rather angular. 
The splendid portrait in Rhode Island Hall is the fulfil- 
ment of no prophecy of his earlier years. His physical 
proportions ancl attitudes, as I first saw him, are truly 
represented in the portrait possessed by the First Baptist 
Church in this city." 

Mrs. Wisner writes, — 

" He was tall and extremely thin ; very pale, and often 
sallow. Indeed he was much of the time far from well, 
though always active and laborious. I think that he had 


very little of what is called manner, in the delivery of his 
sermons, and that you get a better idea of his preaching 
from reading his sermons than is commonly the case with 
regard to ministers who have made so deep an impi-ession 
upon the public. His meeting-house was old, unattrac- 
tive, and situated in what had become a very undesirable 
street; and he felt its disadvantages sometimes morbidly. 
He suffered very much from depression of spirits for a 
year or two after he was settled. He thought he had 
not the sympathies of the mass of his people. But there 
were always some very warm friends among them, ready 
to sustain and encourage him in his labors. His deacons 
wei-e devotedly attached to him, and as the young men 
became more acquainted with him, they rallied around 
him, and he felt stronger in his position. 

" His habits of study, I should say, were very methodi- 
cal and severe. He took his daily walk of seven miles, 
with my husband, for more than four years. The two 
were perfectly united in their aims. No denominational 
differences seemed to interpose any barrier as regarded 
the great object of their lives — the promotion of the king- 
dom of the Redeemer. He was very often at our house, 
and there he was always perfectly unconstrained," 

He was then, as always, very fond of the interchange 
of thought and feeling. Dr. Stow writes, — 

" He once called upon me apparently for no other pur- 
pose than to discuss the question, ' When is a thing 
proved?' I do not remember the answer I gave; but 
it differed from his, which he gave in form, and then 
illustrated in various ways : ' A thing is proved, when it 
must be so, or some law of nature is violated.' " 

Rev. S. Peck, D. D., writes, — 

" The invitation had not been unanimous. Deacons 
Loring and Snow and a few of the more intelligent of the 
church and society had strenuously advocated his election ; 
but a large minority had been merely acquiescent, and 
some had persistently opposed. It was under this con- 
scious embarrassment that he entered upon his work ; and 
the results, in the edification of his people, as also in the 
extension of his pastoral influence, were gained through 
much toil and by slow degrees. He was not a popular 


preacher in the ordinary sense of the term. There were 
some, however, who justly estimated him from the first; 
and their numbers steadily, if slowly, increased. 

" His character, as I then regarded it, and as I now 
recall its unstudied manifestations, was already substan- 
tially cast, and it retained its features in later years. There 
was, perhaps, at that time more of unguarded frankness 
in the expression of his thoughts and impulses, boldness 
verging at times on heedlessness ; but the elemental texture 
was essentially one and the same as in after days. He was 
frank, manly, independent ; ready to hear, kind, earnest, 
forceful in the advocacy of his views, but gracefully defer- 
ring at times to the preferences of his older associates ; 
mirthful in seasons of relaxation, and even hilarious ; not, 
however, to unseemly excess ; exhaustless in humor and 
repartee ; full of Napoleon and Dr. Nott ; holding his 
own with his early friend Mr. Wisner ; fraternal and 
respectful towards Mr. Sharp and the venerable Dr. Bald- 
win ; while with all alike maintaining the bearing of a 
recognized equal." 

In the delineations given by those who knew him during, 
this portion of his life, the reader has probably remarked 
an apparent discrepancy. To one person he seems " mirth- 
ful, even hilarious ; " to another, " depressed, even morbid- 
ly." And a similar seeming discrepancy may be observed 
in his familiar letters. If we may venture an opinion 
upon the point, we apprehend that by nature his tendency 
was to depression ; that from youth he was more easily 
dispirited by reproof and failure, than cheered by ap- 
proval and success. His ideals were high, and his inabili- 
ty to attain to them oppressed him. Mr. Joel Nott, who 
was very intimate with him while he was a tutor, remarks, 
" His chief characteristic was extreme nervous diffidence. 
This v/as so great and so painful, that it required much 
persuasion to induce him to preach." 

When surrounded by confidential friends, when his 
mind was inspired by its own successful exertions, and 
when he was not weighed down with peculiar anxieties 
and responsibilities, he sometimes threw off this depres- 


sion. He had entered on the ministry with exalted — per- 
haps it would not be too much to say with romantic — ex- 
pectation of immediate success ; he anticipated a church 
growing daily in piety, and unhesitatingly conforming 
their lives to the precepts which he exhibited ; a congre- 
gation becoming convinced by his arguments, and giving 
serious heed to eternal realities. Presently he awoke 
to the discovery that they were but human, and, worst of 
all, that he was human also ; his labors appeared far less 
successful than he had anticipated ; his utterances per- 
petually failed to fulfil his ideals ; he was suffering from 
dyspepsia ; and he was lonely, for his heart had found no 

Then, presently, he would experience the soothing in- 
fluence of the wise Dr. Baldwin's counsels, or he would 
forget his cares in the amicable conflict of thought with 
Mr. Wisner, or some new and unexpected evidence of 
good accomplished would lift the cloud, and he was 
cheerful, even joyous. 

Sometimes humor and sadness combined in the same 
utterance ; as when, in allusion to his failure to attract a 
large audience, he expressed the opinion that if his head 
were examined by the phrenologists, then rising into some 
note, he would be found to possess, in an unusual degree, 
" the organ of scatteration." 

We imagine, however, that the apparent inconsistency 
between his varying exhibitions of feeling will most readi- 
ly be reconciled by the reader who shall look into his 
own nature and remark the twofold personality, and the 
under-current of seriousness lying beneath the sparkling 
ripple. It ought to be added, that his feelings, of whatever 
description, never had the effect to paralyze his energies, 
nor to interrupt his labors. Rather, it may be presumed 
that he labored with all the more dogged and conscien- 
tious perseverance as circumstances seemed discouraging. 

With later years, with a fully matured Christian char- 


acter, with the abiding trust, the sense of divine nearness, 
" the faith that looks through death," he was enabled to 
acquiesce, even to rejoice, in all the dealings of God ; and 
there was less often to be remarked an extreme depression, 
or a consequent reaction. 

Of his sermons he writes to Mr. Potter, May 11, 
1S22 : — 

"About sermonizing: I generally select a subject first. 
Frequently my text modifies it. I like best taking a sub- 
ject and going through with it. If you hit upon a good 
one it will last for several weeks ; for instance, growth 
in grace — the nature of it, exhortations to it, means for 
accomplishing it, &c., have furnished me with several 
sermons. When I get a subject I do not know how I 
make a sermon out of it ; I think and think, and somehow 
or other it comes, sometimes head first, sometimes tail 
first, sometimes disjecta membra^ neither head nor tail. 
All I know is, I get it somehow or other." 

His sermons at this period are far from perfect. The 
introduction is often too long, and the temptation to intro- 
duce a great deal of matter in the early part of the dis- 
course is not resisted. The application, on the other hand, 
is too brief and too general. The truth is often left in 
such a form that it might be received by the candid 
inquirer, but might without difficulty be resisted or 
evaded by the careless, self-willed, or hardened. The 
style exhibits sometimes too much of rhetoric, of ambition, 
and the less common and intelligible word is sometimes 
used where the simpler would be as forcible and more 
clear. There is not in them that profound Christian 
experience which came with the matured Christian life. 
He preached about the text, where, at a later day, he 
preached the text. Thus, from the text " The wages of 
sin is death," he enumerates the points of analogy between 
natural and spiritual death. At a later day he would 
have exhibited spiritual death and its connection with sin, 
and the fact that the one is the exact desert and the in- 


separable consequent of the other. Under the text " I 
communed with my own heart," he speaks generally of 
the reasons for self-examination ; at a later day he would 
have delineated a Christian communing with his soul, so 
that every hearer, at least every regenerate hearer, would 
have known by his feelings, rather than by formal argu- 
ment, what self-communion is, how great its excellences, 
how desirable the exercise. These defects flowed, in some 
degree, from the fact stated in his letter just quoted, that 
he selected the subject first, and then the text. Later in 
life the text was selected, the subject was deduced from it, 
and the sermon became " the text expanded." 

We allude to these early characteristics with great 
diffidence, and yet with the feeling that he would have 
said the same thing. If the style of those days appears 
wanting in simplicity, it is because we apply to it the 
standard of that absolute transparency, that perfect di- 
rectness, which characterized his later years. If the 
application appears inadequate, it is because he taught 
us to press home the truth with such directness that every 
hearer should say, " It is I." He had not then renounced 
the love of fame ; he had not learned to eschew fine 
writing in the pulpit ; he had not gained that victory over 
himself, over the love of reputation, position, or emolu- 
ment, which he subsequently regarded as vastly higher 
than all intellectual achievements, and as the only way to 
a happy and successful ministry. He had not yet gained 
that complete freedom from all fear of man which was 
so prominent a feature of his later teachings. Yet his 
preaching was always the result of thought, and study, 
and prayer. It was always clear, always based upon 
Scripture, always solemn and impressive. His hearers 
grew in depth of spirituality, and the greater advances 
they made in piety the more highly did they prize his 
words. An(J with every sermon, then, as during the 
remainder of his life, the faults were fewer and the excel- 
lences more marked. 





IN 1S23 Mr. Wayland became associated with Dr. Bald- 
win in editing the American Baptist Magazine, a pe- 
riodical (issued at that time every two months) designed 
to communicate intelligence of the domestic and foreign 
missions of the denomination, to elevate the standard of 
mental discipline and religious attainment on the part of 
the ministry, and to further every agency for the evangel- 
ization of the world. Upon the death of his venerable 
associate, he became the chief editor. 

In examining volume iv.(new series), for 1833-4, we find 
that in addition to collecting and digesting the extracted 
and communicated matter, he wrote about twenty articles, 
three of which are made up of material previously used 
in the pulpit, the remainder being reviews of recent ser- 
mons or volumes, and suggestions looking to the improved 
efficiency and inci'eased piety of the denomination. In 
one series of articles he considers the Associations, their 
objects, their defects, and the means by which they might 
be rendered more eminently useful. He entertained the 
project — in common probably with many others — of 
making the Association the basis of a representative union, 
a federation of all the Baptist body. " The Associations 
in one state could easily send delegates to a state Conven- 
tion. This would embody all the information and con- 
centrate the energies of a state. These state Conventions 


could send delegates to a general convention, and thus the 
whole denomination might be brought into concentrated 
and united action." " The superintendence of the mis- 
sionary and educational concerns of our denomination 
would be one important business of the general conven- 
tion." " Another of their duties might be, by delegates, 
to correspond with our brethren in England, and thus the 
Baptists on both sides of the Atlantic would be united in 
a solid phalanx." 

A comparison of these early imaginings with his later 
utterances, will not only illustrate the constant progress 
of his mind, and his readiness to receive new views, but 
w^ill exhibit the characteristic frankness with which he 
utters those most difficult of all words, " I was mistaken." 
In 1855 he writes, — 

" To the independence of the churches the vast majority 
of our brethren have adhered with a most commendable 
and consistent tenacity. Notwithstanding this, attempts 
have been made among us to establish some kind of for- 
mal representation. When state conventions were first 
proposed, it was by many believed (and of them I freely 
confess to have been one) that through them we might 
establish a general Baptist organization. I now rejoice 
exceedingly that the whole plan failed through the sturdy 
common sense of the majority of our brethren. We look 
back at the present day with astonishment that such an 
idea was ever entertained." * 

It will be remembered that Mrs. Judson spent a poi*- 
tion of the years 1S33-3 in America. She was often in 
Boston, where Mr. Wayland formed her acquaintance, and 
in common with all who knew her, he was profoundly 
impressed by her character. Thirty years afterwards, in 
the Memoir of Dr. Judson, he wrote, — 

" It was my good fortune to become intimately ac- 
quainted with Mrs. Judson during her visit to the United 
States. I do not remember to have ever met a more 

* Notes on the Principles and Practices of the Baptist churches. 


remarkable woman. To great clearness of intellect, large 
powers of comprehension, and intuitive female sagacity, 
ripened by the necessity of independent action, she added 
that heroic disinterestedness which naturally loses all con- 
sciousness of self in the prosecution of an object. These 
elements, however, were all held in reserve, and were 
hidden from public view by a veil of unusual feminine 
delicacy. To an ordinary observer she would have ap- 
peared simply a self-possessed, well-bred, and very in- 
telligent gentlewoman. A more intimate acquaintance 
would soon discover her to be a person of profound re- 
ligious feeling, which was ever manifesting itself in efibrts 
to impress upon others the importance of personal piety. 
The resources of her nature were never unfolded until 
some occasion which demanded delicate tact, unflinching 
courage, and a power of resolute endurance, even unto 
death. When I saw her, her complexion bore that sal- 
low hue which commonly follows residence in the East 
Indies. Her countenance at first seemed, when in re- 
pose, deficient in expression. As she found herself among 
friends who were interested in the Burman mission, her 
reserve melted away, her eye kindled, and she was every- 
where acknowledged to be one of the most fascinating of 

Elsewhere in the Memoir he says, — 

"As early as the visit of Mrs. Judson to this country, 
Dr. Judson's demand for books [to aid in his work of 
translating the Bible] was large ; and it was all for the 
best, for the foundation books. I well remember the 
pleasure with which I stripped my library of what I con- 
sidered some of its choicest treasures to supply a part of 
his most urgent necessities." 

To his mother he writes, — 

" December i, 1822. 

"She is a most interesting woman. She equals Mrs. 
Stoddard in many respects, and in some is her superior. 
She is a woman of ardent piety and a most thorough 
missionary spirit. I hope you will pray that her health 
may be restored, and that she may be long spared to be a 
blessing to the East." 

On the 23d of June, 1823, Mr. Wayland writes to Mrs. 


O'Brien, a sister of Deacon Lincoln, long known and 
honored as the treasurer of the Missionary Convention, — 

" The vision has passed. The star has set. Many a 
wave rolls its blue w^aters and tosses its white foam be- 
tween Mrs. J. and all in America whom she loves, and by 
whom she has been so dearly beloved. Ay, and long 
will those %vaves roll before she and they exchange the 
welcoming of lip, or feel the reciprocated throb of af- 
fection. Ere that meeting takes place, in all probability, 
the heavens will be wrapped together as a scroll, and the 
elements will melt with fervent heat ; or, at any rate, 
heaven and earth, elements and systems, will have faded 
away to our vision, and nought of this world will be 
recollected by us with pleasure but the moments of devo- 
tion or the acts of piety. 

" The vessel, which was expected to sail on the 35th, 
was hurried away on the 23d, .Sabbath. It was evening. 
The missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Wade and Mrs. J., 
had not expected to sail until the next morning. After 
afternoon service, Mrs. J. stopped a few moments at your 
brother's, and went to take tea at Mr. Sharp's. A mes- 
senger met her to say that the vessel would sail in twenty 
minutes. We hurried to the wharf. The notice was so 
sudden that but few persons were there — not more than 
fifty or sixty ; most of them her particular friends. The 
Edward Newton lay off in the stream near the head of 
India Wharf. Her topsails were spread, and the flag of 
the United States, the signal for sailing, floated from her 
mizzen. A gentle breeze from the west barely kept it 
from hanging lifelessly. Everything was ready. The men 
were already heaving the anchor. After prayer by Dr. 
Baldwin, Mrs. J., Mr. and Mrs. Wade, Mr. and Mrs. Sharp, 
!Mrs. C, Deacon Lincoln, and myself stepped into the 
boat and rowed to the ship. A few notes from the shore 
just fell upon the ear as we passed the wharf; but each 
stroke of the oars rendered them less and less distinct, 
until they completely died away. On the passage to the 
ship, Mrs. J. and your brother were much affected ; but 
an effort to recover themselves succeeded, and though 
but few remarks were made, they were made pleasantly. 
Your brother drew as near to himself as possible a box 
of dollars, and scrawled a note to Mr. Judson. We 



were soon on board, and after a few moments all but the 
deacon and I retunied to the shore. We intended to go 
out as far as the light-house. The anchor was weighed, 
and the vessel under easy sail in about twenty minutes 
after we got on board. In about half an hour or less a 
fine breeze sprang up, and she walked majestically through 
the water. The wind freshened so that we were obliged 
to leave them. We were on deck when we received the 
information that we must go. We ran down to the cabin, 
said farewell, and in a moment wei-e on deck, in our boat, 
cast off, and the water rolled between us. Long shall I 
see the pallid countenance, the raven hair, and the heaven- 
directed eye of the missionary as she stood near the centre 
of the cabin when we ran down and said, ' We must go.' 
It was the last time I shall ever see her. May God bless 
her ! " 

During the summer of 1823 his health had become im- 
paired, and he travelled on horseback to Saratoga Springs, 
occupying four or five weeks in the trip. His father most 
kindly supplied the pulpit, and performed all the pastoral 
labors during the absence of the son. 

Upon his return to Boston Mr. Wayland writes, — 

" September 7. 

" My dear Mother, Sisters, and Brothers : I wrote to you 
from Windsor. I left that place on Wednesday morning, 
and arrived at Hanover at eleven o'clock. I rode alone ; 
the rest of the cavalcade travelled homewards. Riding 
alone was not so lonesome as I had anticipated, and when 
external circumstances were pleasant, it was agreeable. 

"I might, however, begin further back, and say that the 
morning after we left the Springs, we arrived at Glen's 
Falls. This is a romantic spot, and if I had had any idea 
of its being so well worth seeing, I would have taken you 
to see it. It is a beautiful waterfall. Here we parted. 
Some of us went to Lake George. This is not equal to 
the descriptions given of it. We were all disappointed. 
Saturday night and Sunday we spent at Granville. I 
preached once for Mr. Williams. He is a lovely, hum- 
ble-minded. Christian man. There has been a consider- 
able revival there, and the assembly was solemn. 

To pass over two days in which nothing material 



occurred, I was at Dartmouth College at Commencement. 
The performances were respectable. On Thursday after- 
noon I rode to Oxford, on the Connecticut River, where I 
was most kindly entertained by Mr. Wheeler, the father 
of one of my friends. On Friday I rode to Littleton, 
foity miles north, and on Saturday to the White Hills. 
This is a most drearj' spot, and I spent in it the most 
desolate Sabbath I ever passed. Monday took me to 
Eaton, and Tuesday to Center Harbor, on Winnipiseogee 
Lake. W^ednesday to Concord, Thursday to Haverhill, 
and Friday evening to Boston. I travelled pretty rapidl}', 
and improved materially by it. I am now, I think, in 
better health than I have enjoyed for several months. I 
am of the opinion that riding does me more good than 
the Springs. 

" Arriving home, I find all things well. Our dear father 
has been constant in labors, but has enjoyed uninter- 
rupted health. By his kindness and piety he has much 
cndeai-ed himself to the people. They all regret to part 
with him, and hope that he will soon renew his visit, and 
bring his wife with him. 

" And thus, my dear friends, a kind Providence has car- 
ried me safely through all the vicissitudes of travelling, 
has taken me to you, and has retui-ned me again to my 
people in improved health, and has suflered no evil to 
come nigh my path. To the God of all my mercies 
would I return my most heartfelt acknowledgments. O, 
how great is the goodness of God to our family ! We all 
enjoy health. Many of us he has, we hope, awakened 
by his grace, and he is still following us with his loving- 
kindness and tender mercy. O that his goodness may 
lead us to repentance. This very day has laid me under 
fresh obligations to thankfulness. To-day my brother 
John professed religion, and united with my church. It 
was solemn and pleasant. O, let us praise God for his 

After returning from his journey to Saratoga, he com- 
menced the habit of vigorous exercise, which he ever 
afterwards continued, and which added so greatly to his 
health, his enjoyment, his cheei-fulness, and tlie tone of his 
mind. To his father he writes, November 10, apologiz- 
ing for his delay, — 


" I am not so punctual as I ought to be. I have been 
a good deal engaged since you left us. I have taken 
more sleep, and of course my days have been shorter. 
My letters used to be written during the hours which now 
find me asleep. This may furnish some excuse. My 
health has been better, through rich mercy, than for a 
year before. Soon after I came back, I took hold man- 
fully of the saw and axe, and have sawed all Deacon 
Lincoln's wood. I presume I saw a cord every week. I 
exercise every day until I have produced, and continued 
for half an hour, a full and free perspiration. It has 
done me more good than my journey did. That depres- 
sion of spirits which so much disturbed me has, through 
a kind Providence, gone — O that it might be forever ! I 
am able to go through ray duties with mucli greater 
pleasure to myself, and I would fain hope to the better 
improvement of my people. My congregation increases 
gradually. There is an increase of union. Some are 

inquiring. Mrs. has, I trust, obtained pardon, as 

well as Mrs. , although they neither of them believe 

it themselves." 

To his sister, November 10 : — 

" I very frequently think of you and your quiet fireside, 
and wish I were one of your number. My health is 
much improved since I was with you in the summer. I 
have recovered my usual flow of spirits. I have been 
enabled to put forth more energy, for the last three weeks, 
than at any time for a long while. I pray God that this 
additional talent may be devoted to his glory. 

" And this, after all, my dear sister, is all that is worth 
living for. There is no such polar star in perplexity, no 
such solace in adversity, as a strong desire to live to the 
glory of God. This makes everytliing peaceful, every- 
thing happy. 

"■ I preached yesterday on the means God uses to check 
the growth of indwelling sin in his people. The subject 
is interesting. It might, if carefully considered, lead to 
much knowledge of our own character. We might see 
what sins he had singled out, and bent the course of his 
providences to correct." 

The dailypapersofSaturday, October 25, 1823, contained 
a notice that the annual sermon before the Boston Baptist 


Foreign ^Mission Society would be preached on Sabbath 
evening, the 26th, at the First Baptist Church, by Rev. F. 
Wayland, Jr. The evening came, rainy and chill. The 
audience, though the three churches united in the service, 
was small. The text was, " The field is the world ; " the 
subject, " The JSIoral Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise." 
The house was uncomfortable (the preacher wearing his 
great-coat throughout the service), and there was (if we 
are rightly informed) but little enthusiasm on the occasion. 
On Monday morning Mr. Wayland went to Mr. Wisner's, 
and threw himself on a sofa, in one of his most depressed 
moods, saying, " It was a complete failure. It fell perfectly 
dead." * It is not easy to know exactly what imj^ression the 
sermon made upon the audience ; it is not easy, even for 
those who were present, to carry themselves back, and to 
separate their original and unbiassed judgment from the 
glow of admiration which subsequent events taught them to 
feel. It is quite certain that they had no conception that 
they were listening to a sermon which was to mark an era 
in the history of the missionary enterprise. But there were 
a very few persons (chiefly Deacon Loring and his son, 
who were united in business as printers) who insisted that 
the discourse must be published ; and, says the author, 
" I was brought, seemingly by accident, into a position in 
which I was obliged, really against my will, to publish 
it." It was issued. The first edition, which appeared 
in December, was almost immediately exhausted, and 
a second was issued in February. Soon this was ex- 
hausted, and another and cheaper edition was published ; 
which in turn was followed by others. It was adopted 
by the American Tract Society as one of their permanent 
series, and has had a place in several published volumes 
of sermons. In proportion to the population and the 
numbers then found in America, it is doubtful if its circu- 

* But he gathered courage to preach it again at Salem, before 
the Bible Translation Society, a week later. 


lation has been exceeded by any American sermon ; and 
certainly no other has held its place so jDermanently. 
With the exception of the close of Webster's reply to 
Hayne, it may be questioned whether any passage in 
American literature has been more often quoted than the 
paragraphs which delineate the conquering march of the 
early church. 

Among the Congregationalists of New England, the 
sermon was introduced by an article in the Recorder, 
which, while criticising the length of the introduction and 
the formality of the style, pays a most handsome tribute 
to the merits of the discourse, and extracts liberally from it. 
The Richmond Literary and Evangelical Magazine, edited 
by John H. Rice, D. D., said, " The purpose is nobly 
conceived and finely executed. A young writer, who, on 
a hackneyed subject, can produce such a discourse as this, 
deserves the attention of all who wish to see the standard 
of pulpit eloquence rise high in our country." It reached 
the colleges and seminaries of the country, and inflamed 
the minds of the young with a generous ardor in the mis- 
sionary cause, as a copy, thumbed and scarcely hanging 
together, was tenderly passed from hand to hand. 

The excellent a-nd venerable Deacon Crane,* of Balti- 
more, says, " I carrioid a copy to the Old Dover Associ- 
ation, in Virginia ; it was marked, I think, seventh edition. 
I read it to a few persons, one of whom was Dr. Jeter, 
now of Richmond. He became so excited by it that he 
got up and walked the floor, declaring that he could not 
sit still while listening to that sermon." 

It found its way into the hands of readers who were 
little accustomed to regard with favor any utterance from 
evangelical pulpits,, and in whose eyes the missionary 
scheme had seemed a needless and fantastic, though well- 

* Since the above lines were written, Ave learn with profound 
grief of the removal of this venerated, blameless, and benevolent 
disciple of the Lord Jesus. 


meant, extravagance, but who could not be insensible to the 
splendid conception of the discourse and its impassioned 
and sustained eloquence. To every candid mind it pre- 
sented the hitherto despised enterprise in a light so nev/, 
so impressive, that it is not too much to say that it very 
sensibly abridged the number of persons disposed to re- 
gard the cause of missions with contempt. 

In the course of a year or two it was reprinted in Eng- 
land, with a commendatory introduction by the eminent 
Dr. Wardlaw^, of the Scotch church, and passed through 
several editions, receiving as hearty admiration abroad as 
it had done in America, The (British) Evangelical Mag- 
azine, July, 1825, says, "This splendid discourse is, be- 
yond doubt, the eftbrt of a highly accomplished mind. 
It is the burst of genius and of consecrated zeal. Seldom 
has it fallen to our lot to peruse a sermon in all respects 
so valuable. Well may America glory in the man who 
could rear such a monument." 

It has been reported — we know not whether with any 
truth — that Robert Hall, having read it, and having 
learned that it was by a young man of twenty-seven, said, 
'• The author of that sermon will be heard of again." A 
few years later the author received a copy translated into 
German. Of course its reception abroad did not diminish 
the estimate in which the discourse was held in the land 
of its nativity. 

What was the state of his own mind while all this tide 
of approbation was flowing in upon him, is a question 
that will naturally occur to the reader. We have already 
quoted two of his letters written on the loth of November, 
in which no allusion is made to the sermon. It is rarely 
mentioned in any of his letters. He writes to his father, — 

" A second edition of the missionary sermon has been 
published. It seems to be popular, far beyond anything 
I had anticipated, and has obtained encomiums which, 
vain as I am, I can scarcely think it deserves. I hope it 
may do some good for the missionary cause." 


He never seemed to regard the sermon as remarka- 
ble, and no one was more surprised at its reception. 
Deacon Moses Pond relates, " Not long after the sermon 
was printed, I was standing with one or two others on the 
plank v/alk in front of the church, talking of it very 
enthusiastically. Just then Mr. Wayland passed us. The 
walk was so narrow that he could not help hearing 
what we said. He checked us, saying, ' Now do not 
be talking any more about the sermon ; let it go. If 
it does any good, let us thank God ; but do not be talking 
as if some great or strange thing had been done.' " " The 
late Rev. Alfred Bennett, of precious memory, once ex- 
pressed to Dr. Wayland his admiration of the sermon, 
and said that if he himself could give to the woi'ld such 
a production, he should feel that he had not lived in vain. 
Dr. Wayland smiled, and said, ' Well, brother Bennett, 
I suppose every man has one bright idea in his lifetime, 
and that probably was mine.' " * When one of his sons 
showed him a newspaper statement, to the effect that the 
sermon was written thirteen times, he said, " I wrote it 
just thirteen times — minus eleven ; and I wrote two 
other sermons the same week." 

Of course he did not mean to convey the idea that the 
sermon was the offspring of any sudden illumination, or 
that it did not cost time and labor. Then, as afterwards, 
nothing was done — nothing could be done — without a 
plan. After hearing, later in life, a discourse of much 
elegance of finish, yet without a carefully-digested train 
of thought, he said, " I could not have written that upon 
such a plan. The beams were not well laid." When a 
subject had " simmered in his mind" (to use a phrase he 
often borrowed from Sir Walter Scott) for days or weeks, 
until the train of thought was clear, the merely mechan- 
ical part was but the smallest portion of the labor. 

And the Moral Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise, 

* Dr. Stow's Reminiscences. 


though consuming no great amount of time in its actual 
writing, had been the growth of years. Intellectually it 
was the result of the study and reading prosecuted during 
the four years of his tutorship at Union College, the study 
of Longinus and Campbell, of Johnson and Addison and 
Milton ; the result of the instruction of Professor Stuart 
and of Dr. Nott ; and, no doubt. Lake George and the 
Green Mountains, and the White Hills of New Hamp- 
shii-e, had left an impression which we may trace in the 
picture of the quiet beauty of a New England village, 
and in the description of " the autumnal temjDest collect- 
ing between the hills, and as it advances, enveloping in 
misty obscurity village and hamlet, forest and meadow." 
Nor should we forget the humbler agency of the saw- 
horse, and the weekly conquered cord of Deacon Lin- 
coln's wood ; for these remedies it was, which, in his 
own belief, drove away dyspepsia and depression, and 
quickened into action each bodily and mental energy.* 

But it is from the heart that great thoughts come ; and 
the real sources of the missionary sermon were in the closet 
where Christian parents pleaded before God with strong 
crying and tears for their first born ; in the divine affec- 
tion which filled his soul, when, unconscious of the act, 
he surrendered himself to Christ; in the admirins: love 
for the missionary scheme inspired in him by the elo- 
quence of Luther Rice ; in the weary walks to South 
Troy, as he sought to gain something which he might 
offer to the cause of the Redeemer ; in the religious fervor 
kindled anew by Asahel Nettleton ; in the stirring news 
from all parts of the mission field, which passed before 
his eyes as editor of the Magazine, and especially in the 
glowing letters by which Judson pleaded with Christen- 
dom in behalf of the millions of heathenism ; and in the 

* He once told his sister-in-law, Mrs. O'Brien, that the plan of 
the sermon -was thought out while sawing wood in Deacon Lin- 
coln's cellar. 


presence of that noblest of American women, the wife 
of Judson, whose tireless enei'gy and feminine fascination, 
inspired by a holy cause and a divine love, had kindled 
in him a sympathetic fervor, and whose well-remembered 
face and "heaven-directed eye" lent inspiration as he 

In 1S25 Mr. Wayland writes to his brother-in-law Colo- 
nel Stone, then editor of the New York Commercial Adver- 
tiser, " I am ashamed to tell you that I expect shortly to 
publish another sermon. I do not see that I can avoid it." 
He explains that his congregation, not long before, had 
requested him to publish a sermon with which they were 
pleased. He declined. They had now made the same 
request in regard to the sermon under consideration. He 
adds, " It would create dissatisfaction, and look like dis- 
regard to their feelings, if I again refused. I must do it, 
and will do k as well as I can." 

The reference in his letter just quoted is to " The 
Duties of an American Citizen," two discourses preached 
on Fast Day, April 7, 1S35. 

His reluctance to publish was no doubt unaffected, as it 
certainly was natural. To print a second sermon, when 
the first had achieved a success so unparalleled, raising 
the author, at the age of twenty-seven, to the front rank 
in his denomination and his country, was a hazardous 
experiment. It could scarcely surpass the former ; and 
yet the inexorable demand of mankind is for advance- 
ment, and he who does not perpetually surpass his for- 
mer self is condemned as having fallen off. We may well 
believe that a sincere desire to serve his country and 
mankind, cooperated with the expressed wishes of his 
congregation, in inducing him to incur this liability. 

The previous half century had been crowded with 
events unparalleled in their importance — the American 
i-evolution ; the overthrow of monarchy in France ; the 
rise, the conquests, the fall, and the death of Napolc- 


on ; the assumptions of the Holy Alliance ; the birth 
of the South American republics ; the growth of pop- 
ular intelligence ; and the introduction of steam com- 
munication. Many of these had, as they transpired, 
kindled the imagination of his boyhood, or awakened 
the hopeful solicitude of his maturer judgment. He had 
seen and talked with the surviving actors in the scenes 
of our own struggle. Not many months before, he had 
seen a nation paying its grateful homage to the cham- 
pion and protector of our infant independence — the 
immortal Lafiiyctte. It was not in his nature, he did 
not believe it to lie within his duty, to ignore the majestic 
series of events so vitally aficcting the interests of Amer- 
ica, of mankind. " In the attempt," he says, " to en- 
lighten you upon any of those great questions, in which 
the well-being of our own country, as well as of other 
countries, is interested, I seem to myself to be dischar- 
ging a duty not imjoroperly devolving upon a profession 
which is expected to watch with sedulous anxiety every 
change that can have a bearing upon the moral or reli- 
gious interests of a community." While he never de- 
scended to the level of a partisan, and while he ever held 
to the judgment that " he who uses personalities in the 
pulpit ought never to enter it again," * he yet felt that 
men had a right, amid events of a world-wide signifi- 
cance, to expect from the minister of religion, instruc- 
tions that should guide the course of the disciple of Christ. 
In the hour of our national agony, in May, 1861, he wrote 
to his son, a minister of the gospel, " Preach to the 
times; that is, as one 'knowing the times.' The minds 
of men arc all on one subject, and that not a frivolous, 
but a grave one, and one that has a thousand connections 
with the government of God, the salvation of souls, and 
the encouragement to prayer. Start from any point in 

* Ministry of the Gospel, p. loi. 


the times, but let it ever lead you to the vital and most 
solemn truths of revelation." 

In the sermons just alluded to, he considers, i. The 
present intellectual and political condition of the nations 
of Europe ; 2. The relations which this countrj^ sustains 
to those nations ; and 3. The duties which devolve upon 
us in consequence of these relations. Some of his utter- 
ances, like those of the older prophets, seemed addressed 
not only to his own, but to other generations. The 
attack upon civil and religious liberty, which we have 
seen proceeding from among ourselves, was then antici- 
pated from without ; and the counsels of 1S25 were equally 
apposite to the crisis, when foes, deadlier and more dan- 
gerous than foi-eign despotism could have nurtured, arose 
from within our own household. 

" Then will America need the wealth of her merchants, 
the prov^^ess of her warriors, and the sagacity of her states- 
men. Then, on the altars of our God, let cacli one devote 
himself to the cause of the human race, and in the name 
of the Lord of Hosts, go forth into the battle. If need be, 
let our choicest blood flow freely, for life itself is valueless 
when such interests are at stake. Then, when a world in 
arms is assembling to the conflict, may this country be 
found fighting in the vanguard for the liberties of man. 
God himself hath summoned her to the contest, and she 
may not shrink back. For this liour may he by his 
grace prepare her." 

With a similar illumination, and in words, that without 
an alteration, might be applied to the armies which he 
lived to see gathered in defence of liberty and law, he 
says, — 

" Should the time to try men's souls ever come again, 
our reliance, under God, must be, as it w^as before, on the 
character of our citizens. Our soldiers must be men 
whose bosoms have swollen witli the conscious dignity 
of freemen, who, firmly trusting in a righteous God, can 
look unmoved on the embattled legions leagued for pur- 
poses of wrong. When the means of education every- 


where throughout the land shall be free as the air we 
breathe, — when every family shall have its Bible, and everj'- 
person shall love to read it, — then, and not till then, shall 
we exert our proper influence in the cause of man ; then, 
and not till then, shall we be prepared to stand forth be- 
tween the oppressor and the oppressed, and to say to the 
proud wave of domination, Thus far shalt thou come, and 
no farther." 

The discourses were imbued with a love for freedom, 
the largest freedom of mind and soul, the liberty that he 
never ceased to claim as his own right and that of every 
being. " Better that the earth should revolve without an 
inhabitant," he once said, " than that it were peopled with 
a race of slaves." And the sermons glowed with the 
brightest hopes of human advancement. To think trust- 
fully of the capacity and destiny of the human race, when 
informed by the gospel of Christ, he regarded as a duty 
enjoined in the precept, " Honor all men." Those who 
saw him welcome the stirring news of the European 
revolutions of 1S4S, or who heard or read his sermons 
suggested by those events, cannot forget the hopefulness 
with which he greeted those popular movements. Dr., 
Channing's memorable " always young for liberty, I trust," 
would have found an echo in him. It ought, however, 
to be remarked, that his hopes were not inspired merely, 
nor chiefly, by the overthrow of dynasties, or the change 
in forms of government, but by the enlargement of in- 
telligence, the elevation of moral principles, and the 
increasing supremacy of the religion of Christ : his con- 
fidence was not in man as man, but in man as the abode 
of the divine Spirit by whom he has been redeemed and 

It was not a little noteworthy, that of his two first pub- 
lished utterances, the one was an appeal for the triumph 
of religion, the other for the elevation of mankind. Piety 
and humanity, the love of God and the love of his brother, 
— it was these impulses which inspired his early energies, 

174 ^^^^ °^ FRANCIS WAYLAND. 

and which led hhn to exertions too arduous for the waning 
vigor of threescore and ten ; to these appeals he ceased to 
be sensible only when his latest pulsations were stilled. 

The sermons maintained, and even enhanced, the repu- 
tation secured by that previously published. They proved 
that the latter had not been a happy accident, — " his one 
bright idea," — and that the period intervening since its 
publication had not been spent in an idle enjoyment of 
his first success, but in study, self-discipline, and thought, 
and in the steady growth of all his faculties. Although 
containing no paragraph so highly wrought as arc pas- 
sages in the missionary sermon, yet they excel it in calm 
dignity, in breadth of view, in sustained power. 

The Boston Recorder, in a notice of the discourses, 
says, — 

" Tlie author of these sermons gained much celebrity by 
his first production. Few have made a better impression 
at their first appearance before the public. It has often 
been said, ' Mr. VVayland must not soon ventui'e his reputa- 
tion again.' But while the warmth of feeling and the glow- 
ing admiration, which his first effort excited, have scarcely 
begun to subside, he has ventured again ; and if I may 
judge from the effect on myself, I would say that these last 
sermons will not only sustain, they will elevate the former 
feeling. They have fewer faults and more excellences 
than the first. They evince a profounder intellect, a more 
classical taste, a richer fund of knowledge. They have 
finer strains of eloquence, and will be re-perused with 
deeper interest. There is a vigor of thought, a correctness 
of ratiocination, a manliness of sentiment, a unity of de- 
sign, and a steadiness of aim which do equal credit to his 
industry and talent. The design of his [first] sermon was 
exceedingly happy. He has struck another popular string. 
Both are as original as they are felicitous. And I am 
greatly mistaken if the last do not enlarge the field of his 

The North American Review (October, 1825) devotes 
an article of nine pages to the sermons, awarding to them 
very high commendation, while taking exception to his 


remarks on the Romish church, as having been " more 
applicable three centuries ago than at the present time." 

It is proper to add, that, for much valuable information 
contained in the notes appended to the sermons as pub- 
lished, jSIr. Wayland was indebted to Colonel Stone, to 
Avhom he was through life united by acts of reciprocal 
kindness and literary aid. 

The publication of the discourses last named, and of 
the missionary sermon, produced a change in the position 
of Mr. Wayland ; it gained for him the ear of the public. 
Henceforth, to the end of life, whatever he uttered was 
sure of an audience, though of course not always of acqui- 
escence, still less of applause. He had now a ^oO arcj ; it 
was for the future to determine whether he should move 
the world. He also gained a confidence in himself, in his 
power to address and to move his fellow-men. And the 
success of his second publication was of peculiar value in 
freeing him from that nen'ous dread of his own form&i- 
self, of the reputation gained by his maiden publication, 
which has crippled so many men whose entrance on life 
was most brilliant. 

On the 27th of September, 1S25, he delivered the an- 
nual address before the Porter Rhetorical Society, of 
Andover Seminary. The subject of the address was 
" The dependence of the eloquence of the pulpit upon a 
deep experience of personal religion." 

The Christian Watchmaij, after a sketch of the train 
of thought, says, " We do not feel competent to present 
a correct analysis of this classical oration, which was lis- 
tened to attentively by a delighted auditory ; but we hope 
it may soon appear from the press." The discourse, with 
many excellences, partakes of a defect to which all of his 
more elaborate compositions were in that day liable ; the 
introduction v*'as laid out on a scale suited to the limits 
of a treatise rather than a discourse. No adequate space 
is left for considering the real subject under discussion. 
It was requested for publication, but vvas never printed. 


During the week follQwing the news of the death of 
the ex-presidcnts (July 4, 1S26), Mr. Wayland preached 
a sermon appropriate to that event, which aftei-wards ap- 
peared in the volume of Discourses. 

For the sake of unity we have thrown together our 
imperfect notices of some of his public addresses bclono-- 
ing to this period. It would require too much space to 
enumerate his discourses at ordinations, Associations, and 
other public religious assemblages. 

In November, 1834, the Massachusetts Baptist Conven- 
tion was formed in Boston, in the First Baptist Church. 
Mr. Wayland took an active part in its organization, and 
was aj^pointed its first secretary. 

The Newton Theological Institution had its origin in a 
meeting of ministers and laymen held in the vestry of his 
church, in May, 1825. He was deeply interested in the 
movement, was one of the corporate members of the board 
of trustees, and v/as the first secretary of the board. 

Meanwhile the condition of the missionary enterprise 
among American Baptists had become such as to give 
rise to profound solicitude. The Convention, established 
in 1814 for the expressed and single purpose of " sending 
the glad tidings of salvation to the heathen, and to nations 
destitute of pure gospel light," had in 1S17 voted "to in- 
stitute a Classical and Theological Seminary." Such an 
institution was accordingly established in Philadelphia, 
and Rev. Dr. Stoughton, the corresponding secretary of 
the board, was placed at its head. "During the next 
three years the board turned its attention largely — some 
thought excessively — to departments for which provision 
had been made in the amended constitution. The project 
of founding an institution of learning was started and 
received with great favor, especially in the Middle and 
Southern States. . . . But many were rendered anxious by 
the question if it would be wise in a missionary organ- 
ization to enter upon the undertaking. It was already 


apparent in many minds that this superadded enterprise 
was acquiring interest at the expense of the cause of 
missions." * 

At the next meeting, in 1S20, it was voted to estabhsh 
a college at Washington, " not, however, without painful 
misgivings, in the minds of many, as to results." " It 
was feared the enterprise might overshadow the primary 
object of the Convention, and divert funds which might 
otherwise be available for missions." 

In 1 82 1, as we learn from the Magazine for July, the 
board voted to loan ten thousand dollars from the mission 
funds, to assist in the erection of the Columbian College.f 
The next meeting (1833) was held in Washington. Dr. 
Baldwin and Mr. Sharp attended, and Mr. Wayland, as 
the 3-ounger minister, remained at home. Mr. Rice, the 
agent of the Convention, reported that his time had been 
much occupied by the concerns of the college. He men- 
tions an arrangement, projected by the trustees of the col- 
lege, that the president should be reelected corresponding 
secretary, and should be enabled to devote one day in 
each week exclusively to the business of the Convention. 
He states, also, that he (JSh\ R.) has made such arrange- 
ments with the trustees, as to be able to serve the Conven- 
tion as agent without charge. " The college, at eacli 
succeeding meeting," says the Magazine, July, 1826, " de- 
manded more attention from the Convention, and the mis- 
sions received less. The missionary cause lost its place 
in the hearts of Christians, until the souls of the heathen 
were almost forgotten ; and every paper and every report 
seemed exclusively devoted to the praises and the suc- 
cesses of the Columbian College." 

* Dr. Stow's " Earl}' History," read at the Jubilee, 1S64, from 
which, also, further extracts are made bearing on the same topic. 

t We learn from Dr. Stow, that this application of the mission 
funds created such profound dissatisfaction in New England, 
that the money was refunded. 

VOL. I. 12 


We find among the papers of Dr. Wayland a report, in 
his handwriting, bearing no date, bnt exhibiting internal 
evidence of having been presented in 1S23 or 1824. It 
commences as follows : " The committee to whom was 
referred the consideration of the question, what means 
could be adopted to revive the spirit of missionary exertion 
in the Baptist denomination in New England, beg leave 
to offer the following remarks, as the result of some de- 
liberation." To what body the report was submitted we 
are not aware. The report proposes to consider the fol- 
lowing topics: I. The past and present state of mis- 
sionary exertion among us ; 2. If there be a decline, what 
are the reasons for it? 3. Suggestions as to the means of 
reviving the missionary spirit, and a viev/ of the diffi- 
culties which present themselves ; 4. Considerations urg- 
ing us to the course suggested. The writer delineates the 
ardor which at one time pervaded the denomination in 
behalf of foreign missions. Every heart, every purse, was 
open. In one year, the sum raised was within a few 
thousand dollars of that received by the American Board. 
" In the spring of 1S18, we actually had twenty-three 
thousand dollars in the treasury." But now " the mission 
treasury has been exhausted, no one can tell us how. 
The receipts have been from year to year diminishing." 
" Scarcely any missionaries have, of late, been sent out, 
nor does any one feel the importance of sending them." 
" The feeling that all is at a stand is becoming universal." 
" There seems no centre of action." " We hear of the 
president of Columbian College, we hear of the college, 
we hear of the debts and embarrassments of the agent, but 
we hear nothing of missions." " The palsying effects of 
the system we have felt in our own minds. We cannot 
feel the interest we wish in our missions. Other missions 
are going forward, ours are declining." The causes of 
this decline are stated : i. The novelty of the undertaking 
has worn oft'; 2. The location of the executive department 


of the missions at Washington — a location for which but 
one reason could be assigned, that it was the seat of the 
college and the residence of the corresponding secretary ; 
3. The want of a suitable person as corresponding secre- 
tary. " To the gentleman holding this office is freely ac- 
corded the praise of eloquence, learning, literature, un- 
bounded hospitality, and atlable good will. Waiving the 
question, Has he the qualifications needful for his office? 
it must be asked, Can he discharge the duties, while at 
the head of the college, and while presiding over several 
departments of instruction?" "Experience leaves no 
doubt on this point." " We believe him to be a pious 
and amiable man, and a man of talent ; but we do still 
consider that both he and his advisers have greatly en"ed 
in the conduct of our missionary concerns." 4. The in- 
judicious conduct of the agent. The very valuable quali- 
ties of Mr. Rice are cordially recited ; " and we do not 
hesitate to attribute the great success of our first mis- 
sionary attempts to his high personal and moral endow- 
ments." But he has been the means of diverting the 
public mind from the missionary cause to the concerns of 
the college, and he has thrown the financial affairs of the 
Convention into inextricable confusion. 

How shall the missionary spirit be revived? We 
should supply the place of novelty by continually pre- 
senting interesting missionary matter before the public, 
and by continually augmenting our missionary stations. 
The seat of the executive must be changed. A secretary 
must be appointed who should give his whole time to the 
mission, or, at any rate, make that his first business. 
There must be a competent advising committee. "And 
finally, each one of us must feel that the missionary cause 
takes rank of almost everything else." 

Upon the obstacles to such a course, and upon the argu- 
ments for its adoption as presented in the report, we will 
not dwell. 


The next meeting of the Convention was held in 1826. 
Of this meeting Dr. Stow favors us with this reminis- 
cence : — 

" I met Dr. Wayland at the triennial meeting of the 
Convention in New York, in the spring of 1826. His 
sermon on the Missionary Enterprise had placed him 
in the front rank of the denomination, and secured him 
a respect and deference accorded to no other man of his 
years. The session was prolonged beyond precedent, for 
the subjects under consideration were of unusual im- 
portance. In the various discussions, some of which 
were profoundly exciting, Mr. Wayland earnestly par- 
ticipated, and by his cool, conclusive reasonings, con- 
tributed largely to the wise results which were ultimate- 
ly reached with unexpected unanimity. In fact he did 
more than any other man to secure the separation of the 
college from the Convention. Many of his arguments 
bore heavily upon the policy of the Rev. Luther Rice ; 
but they were expressed without any bitterness, and gave 
no personal oftence. At the close of one day's warm 
debate, in which Mr. Wayland had spoken at length in 
favor of the separation of Columbian College from, the 
Convention as a missionary body, Mr. Rice said to me, 
'That Francis Wayland has a very fair mind. He 
knocked away my foundations, but he did it like ^ a 
Christian man, and I cannot be oftended with him.' " 

At this meeting, in addition to the separation of Colum- 
bian College from the Convention, the executive seat was 
removed to Boston, the office of agent was abolished, 
and Rev. Dr. Bolles, of Salem, was elected corresponding 
secretary. All the changes made were in precisely the 
direction indicated by the report from which we have 
quoted. Of the beneficent results which attended the 
reorganization thus effected ; of the renewed confidence, 
the revived missionary zeal ; of the benign impulse that 
went forth to every remote station ; of the years that fol- 
lowed, full of prosperous labor for the conversion of the 
world, — it would be needless here to speak. 





WE seem to have clone great injustice to the subject 
of our memoir in the view given of his labors. 
We seem to have presented the acts which gained him 
the largest fame among men as being the most momen- 
tous results of his life — as being those by which he would 
wish to be judged. We are aware that he would have felt 

— and most justly — that more momentous far in reality, 
and in the estimate of angels, was tbe character of his own 
spiritual life and the discharge of his duty to the immortal 
ones over whom the Holy Ghost had made him overseer. 
Yet it has not been of choice, but from necessity, that we 
have made prominent the more public aspects of his life. 
It is not difficult to delineate the wide-spread impression 
created by a single discourse. But to describe justly the 
daily insensible growth of holiness in the soul ; to record 
the inward struggles and victories known only to the Infinite 

— the ruling of one's own spirit (greater glory than that 
of him who taketh a city) ; to follow the pastor out upon 
the Neck as he goes to administer consolation to some one 
of the Lord's hidden ones ; to record the counsels suited to 
the varying spiritual wants of old and young, of tempted 
and perplexed ; to trace the progress of conviction in one 
soul, the dawning of hope in another, and the noonday of 
sanctification in another ; to measure the gradual increase 
of seriousness in the body of disciples, of love for the word 


of God, of knowledge of self, of spirituality, — all this 
who may hope to accomplish? And it is rendered all the 
more difficult, from the fact that during his ministry there 
was not in his congregation any particular period of wide- 
spread and overpowering interest — any revival of religion. 
Yet he would have told us it was in such results far more 
than in the production of world-renownod sermons and in 
the establishment of a transatlantic fame, that his work as 
a minister of Christ lay. 

The following, to his sister Mrs. S., illustrates his long- 
ing for the awakening and conversion of his people, and 
his disappointment when this result was not attained. It 
was for this result, far more than for any increase of liter- 
ary fame, that he longed with irrepressible desire. The 
words of an eminent minister of Christ, " I don't want 
their admiration ; I want their salvation," would have ex- 
pressed his prevailing feeling. He sought not theirs, but 

"... I promised Sarah that I would v\'rite to you about 
the work in Boston. There is a considerable revival in 
Park Street and the Old South. Probably two hundred 
or more have been seriously impressed in the former place, 
and a number, I know not how many, in the latter. The 
attention still continues. It has not, I grieve to say, extended 
into any of the Baptist churches, though there seems some 
increasing interest among Christians. I know not that there 
is any more attention among sinners. A few days since 
we held a united meeting for fasting and humiliation. It 
was a pleasant and solemn season. Christians seemed con- 
siderably awakened and humbled ; but I know not that there 
was any other effect. When I say we, I mean the three 
Baptist churches. I am sometimes disconsolate, sometimes 
tempted to sloth and unbelief. But I know this is wrong. 
I wait for thy salvation. Lord. I hope I may add, ' With 
strong desires I wait.' I never so much felt the total inef- 
ficacy of means to the conversion of a sinner or the edifi- 
cation of a saint. If I learn this lesson it will be of some 
use. But it is mournful to find no eflect produced by our 
labors, when others so near are reaping so rich a harvest ; 


not because sinners are better or more deserving in one 
place than another, but because it looks as though God 
had a controversy wnth the people. O, may the blessing 
at last descend ! . . ." 

Difficult as it is justly to exhibit the interior aspect of 
his life and labors, we must attempt it, availing ourselves 
of such materials as we may. How was he affected by 
the new scenes amid which he was placed? Did he 
retain the simplicity of his nature, the tender reverence 
for parents, the sympathy with home, the intense love 
for brothers and sisters, the spirituality of mind, the meek- 
ness towards man, the humility before God? The unde- 
signed testimony of his own letters, and the recollection of 
those who survive, and who recall the tenor of his life, 
will afford an answer. 

His youngest sister — the youngest of the family — he used 
to call his " scholar ; " for it was he who watched over 
her studies and aroused her mind to activity. He writes 
to her, — 

" Your letter is very well written ; the lines are straight 
and the composition very respectable. It does you credit. 
The studies to which you are attending are very impor- 
tant. I hope you will spare no pains to be thorough in 
them all. It is better to know one thing well than fifty 
things badly. If you ever know one thing well you will 
be a pretty great woman. 

"... My dear child, make the eternal God your Father. 
He has said, ' I love them that love me ; and they that seek 
me early shall find me.' Seek him and find him, and you 
will be prepared for any event in time and in eternity." 

And again : — 

" I wish very much that it were possible for you to be 
with me. I hope Providence will so order it before long. 
You are getting to be of that age when I can be of more 
use to you than at any other part of your life. I should 
like very much to have you near mc, where I could 
have, in some manner, the oversight of your education. 
But, after all, I think it very probable that I mistake. We 


are all very likely to overrate our capacity to be useful to 

" I think your master is putting you forward too fast. 
I am confident you are not fit to study Virgil ; that is, you 
ought to have read several other books first. You ought 
to have read Csesar before reading Virgil. It is wrong to 
attempt to read Latin poetry before you can read prose." 

At his earnest request, his parents allowed his little sis- 
ter to visit Boston. While she was there, he selected her 
schools, and w^atched over her studies, and all her pursuits, 
with the wise solicitude of a parent. She writes, — 

" While I was in Boston, I used always to spend the 
Sabbaths vv^ith him at Dr. Baldwin's ; and sweet Sabbaths 
they were. Dear Dr. Baldwin was my ideal of a lovely, 
venerable minister of the gospel ; he was very kind, 
and seemed very fond of me. As the twilight of the Sab- 
bath was gathering, dear brother always took me into his 
study ; we read together, and I felt that I could tell him 
all that was in my little heart, just as freely as to mother. 
And then we would kneel together. His prayer was not 
long, but I remember it was just what I wanted and 
needed for my childish little self. He remembered every 
one of the family, each of the dear ones at Jiome. How 
I can recall the look of that study ! It was calm, quiet, 
and unpretending. I know I have been better all my life 
for those twilight evenings. Then he would take me 
around to Milk Street, to Mr. Wisner's, and my Sabbath 
was ended." 

Surely this was 

"one whose heart 
The holy forms of young imagination have kept pure." 

To his sister, Mrs. Stone, February 6, 1S25 : — 

" My very dear Sister : . . . How singular it is ! but so it 
is ; there is no accounting for tastes. You thought your 
last letter a very poor one. I thought it, on the contrar}', 
one of the best you had written to me for a long time. Be 
assured I remember, with many a pleasant yet sombre re- 
flection, the hours of our childhood. I well recollect, on 
Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, our odd amusements, 
and among them that famous drama, to which, I imagine. 


we may advance the claim of prior and undisturbed posses- 
sion — the adventures of Giant Despair. In those mourn- 
ful and yet eventful scenes, which probably no one be- 
sides ourselves ever enacted, I recollect my favorite part 
was the giant, though, I think, M., who was, like our- 
selves, an amateur, sometimes pei'sonated him. I fear that 
the effect of those spirit-stirring scenes, in which ourselves 
were the sole actors and spectators, may have left some 
traces on your imagination ; I know not but to this may 
be attributed some of that extreme teiTor of me with 
which you are now so grievously oppressed. Be assured 
that I have entirely cast oft" the character, and am abso- 
lutely as quiet as a cat, to all which, I presume, Sarah will 
bear most ample testimony." 

To Mrs. Stone : — 

"July 19, 1S25. 

" !My dear Sister : I cannot longer delay to express to 
5-ou the pleasure I received from seeing you, and also the 
gratification with which I heard that you returned well, and 
not displeased with your visit. If God should spare our 
lives, I hope these meetings w'ill be frequent. They awaken 
a deeper and more hallowed tone of feeling ; they give 
rise to a thousand endeared and endearing reminiscences 
which we look for in vain from other associations. Other 
friends may be fast and firm ; they may be acute and in- 
telligent ; but they can strike none of the chords which 
the hand of childhood strung, and whose music falls upon 
the ear like the memory of joys that are past — pleasant 
and mournful to the soul. I like to revive those thinsfs. 
I like to recall the little incidents of boyhood and girl- 
hood, to tell over their follies and their sorrows, their 
pleasures and their pains. Each one, fresh recollected, 
seems to add a little to the thread of human existence, 
and to give new value to it, too ; for it shows how 
closely it is entwined with the life of those whom, in auld 
lang syne, we loved, and in later years we have hon- 
ored. ' Rather more poetical than usual, I think,' said 
Mr. Shandy." 

To his brother John : — 

"December 15, 1822. 

" I received your letter not long since, and had writ- 
ten to you a few days before. I rejoice to hear the 


decision to which you have come. I hope and trust you 
were led to it by the Spirit of unerring truth. It has long 
been the desire and the pi-ayer of my heart that you might 
be associated with me in the gospel ministry, and I now 
hope to live to see my wish accomplished. May God 
endue 3'ou plentifully with his grace, and make you an 
eminently useful minister. Cultivate, above everything, 
my dear brother, the spirit of ardent and constant piety. 
Seek in the Bible for the nature of true relis^ion. Look 
not much to the opinions nor to the practice of men, but 
draw your principles and your spirit directly from the 
fountain of everlasting truth. There you can never mis- 
take. Seek for the acquaintance of those who are re- 
markable for wisdom and piety, and let them be your 
chief companions. Endeavor to get into the habit of 
acting in everything in the fear of God and for the day 
of judgment, and you will not be in much danger of act- 
ing wrongly. 

" I write now especially to say, that about the difficulty 
of expense in your education you need not be solicitous. 
I will take care of that somehow. You may make your 
aiTangements to prepare for the ministr}', as soon as you 
have father's permission. As to the place where you shall 
study, I cannot give an opinion yet. . . ." 

To his sister S., accompanied by a watch : — 

" I send you a small token of my regard. It is not 
wholly such as I could have wished, but it is as near as I 
could hnd anything. I hope it will please you. 

"It will number your days, S., yes, and your moments. 
Though its voice be weak, it will be impressive. Its mon- 
itory linger will point out to you how rapidly time is 
passing, and how soon you must enter upon that state 
where duration will no more be measured by sun and 
moon. Then we shall either inhabit the city where the 
Lamb is the light thereof, or be shut up in that prison 
where, when the agonizing inquirer asks, 'How long?' 
the answer will come back from the gloomy walls, 
' Eternity.' 

" May this little monitor teach you so to number your 
days as to apply your heart to wisdom. May it teach you 
the frailty of man, and the shortness of his probation. It is 
one of the frailest works of human ingenuity ; yet it will 


keep on its course when she who now owns it, and he who 
now writes about it, sleep in the dust. When that time 
shall arrive, my dear sister, may we be found clothed in 
the righteousness of Christ ; and then, though the earthly 
house of our tabernacle be dissolved, we shall be raised to 
a building of God, a house not made with hands, etei'nal 

in the heavens." 

We quote also from a letter of his father, dated March, 
1824: — 

" It affords me great pleasure, and at the same time, 
I hope, excites my gratitude, to notice the great accept- 
ance your sermon met with ; I do not think more than 
it deserves, if a parent may be allowed to express an 
opinion. But you will allow me to express the whole 
of my feelings on this subject. I was not without some 
anxiety lest Satan and a deceitful heart might cause the 
applause of mortals to prove a snare. It was my prayer, 
and still is, that our common Friend, who watches over 
our path, might make his grace sufficient for you. Noth- 
ing will afford me so much pleasure as to see you kept 
humble at the foot of the cross. If you are constantly 
found there, the talents which God has been pleased to 
give you will be employed to the good of mankind and 
to the glory of his holy name. The foregoing remarks, 
I am persuaded, will be received by you as coming from 
an affectionate father, whose experience has given him 
some knowledge of the human heart." 

Of his inward temper, of the worship in spirit and in 
truth which he rendered, illustration is afforded in his 
letters, many of which have been cited. 

We quote from a note written to her who afterwards 
became his w'ife : — 

" Your note was received, and would sooner have been 
answered, but it was considered by your kind sister as too 
precious to remain long in my possession. It was taken 
away, without my knowledge or consent, very soon after 
its reception, and was not returned to my table till a few 
minutes since. It speaks of moral and of physical infir- 
mities, of sickness of soul, and debility of body. . . . 
For the disease of the soul there is a sovereign remedy, a 


remedy which was devised by omniscience, and v.Iiich has 
never failed of success. In the worst cases it has been 
tested, and its efficacy is infalhble. ' The blood of jesus 
Christ cleanseth from all sin.' This remedy is freely 
offered to all the children of men. No one need perish 
unless he so will. ' Whoever will, let him come.' It is 
oftered, and has been offered, to Lucy ; and it is the hope 
of her friend that she will accept it, if she has not yet 
done so." 

The piety that was " as a fire shut up in his bones," 
could not but express itself in earnest longings for the 
salvation of the souls of which he had, at divine com- 
mand, taken the care. A Christian lady, at whose house 
he boarded, says, " He was a faithful pastor. I have in 
mind one person particularly, who was poor and had 
many trials. She often came to the house to talk with 
the pastor. He was very kind to her, and never wearied 
of her coming, however great the interruption. He gave 
her his sympathy, and was untiring in his efforts that she 
might secure the consolations of religion." 

During one summer he boarded, in one of the suburban 
towns, with Mr. D., a member of his parish. Mrs. D. 
was of a very retiring disposition, and found it impossi- 
ble to converse freely with any one on personal religion ; 
but she attributed her conversion to his prayers in her 

In his " Letters on the Ministry of the Gospel " he 
recalls this incident in his pastoral life : — 

" I had been preaching on a solemn subject on a week- 
day evening, and the audience seemed more than usually 
interested. In walking out with one of my hearers, I 
was guilty of making some trifling remark, the spirit of 
which was wholly at variance with all that I had been 
saying. I was immediately impressed with my inconsis- 
tency and wrong doing, and I never think of it without 
regret, and, I hope, repentance ; for that one trifling ex- 
pression may have wrought permanent injury to an im- 
mortal soul." 


We may venture to believe that if a single error could 
thus remain fixed in his memory after a lapse of nearly 
forty years, his ministerial life must have been unusually 
free from blemish. 

During the first three years of his ministry he boarded, 
and, during a part of that time, in a portion of the city 
somewhat distant from the majority of his parishioners. 
But he was dissatisfied with this course. He felt that by 
this remoteness he lost much, and failed to hold in his 
hands countless threads of influence and sympathy. He 
has remarked, that after boarding out of town for a sum- 
mer, although he was among the parish almost daily, yet 
he did not " catch up " with his work for months. He re- 
garded the gospel which is preached from house to house 
as being quite as eflicacious as that delivered more for- 
mally upon the Sabbath. Indeed, he felt that next to the 
Bible there was no other source of sermons so fruitful as 
the hearts and the conversation of his people. He often in 
later life quoted the remark (made to him we think by 
his venerated friend, Rev. Dr. Welch), "Tell the people 
just what they tell you, and you will find that nothing 
will interest them so much." We have heard Dr. Way- 
land mention that he once called upon a mother, who had 
been bereaved by the death of her daughter. The af- 
flicted mother poured out her heart, and told him how 
the child had lain in her bosom, had never been absent 
from her for a day, had been the mainspring and motive 
of her life, and how utter now was her desolation. Not 
long after this conversation, the pastor had occasion, in 
preaching, to allude to a mother's love, and used as nearly 
as possible the very language of the bereaved mother. 
The people, in amazement, heard their own deepest emo- 
tions delineated, and many of them expressed their wonder 
that a man so young could know so much of human nature. 

Believing that his usefulness would be increased by such 
a change, in the fourth year of his settlement he rented a 


house in Hanover Street, and invited his sister (now Mrs. 
C.) to come and preside over his home. She kindly con- 
sented, and had an unusually favorable opportunity to 
know^ him in his relations to his charge. She remarks, 
" He was much in his room, and the hours appropriated to 
study he was very unwilling to have encroached upon. 
His house was always accessible to his people, and open 
to his ministering brethren. His tastes, I suppose, drew 
him more to his studies than to parochial duties. Of this 
I think he was sensible, and carefully guarded against any 
neglect in this respect. The poor, the sick, and the afflicted 
always called out his sympathy, and I well remember 
the promptness with which he hastened to such abodes. 
Having once entered them, any apparent resei-ve in his 
manner was lost. He had great tenderness for children, 
and they approached him confidingly." 

We recall his once saying to a minister whom he was 
visiting, " I was glad to see you speak to those children. 
Those who are children now, and whose affections you 
may secure, in a few years will be men and women." 

Mrs. C. adds, — 

" He seemed to me to have no time for relaxation. 
The only change was in the character of his work. He 
did not mix much in society, and was often at a loss for 
that small change which is always in demand in the social 
circle. He rarely accepted invitations to dine, and had 
the impression that he was not fitted for general society. 
Even in this early period of his life I think he often suf- 
fered from a sense of isolation, and had many a hard 
struggle within. At his own table the flow of conversa- 
tion was easy, and his humor was irresistible as it scintil- 
lated from those deep-sunken eyes. And the attention was 
often arrested by some striking remark, which to others 
became the seed of thought. He did not delight in spec- 
ulation ; his mind was essentially practical. His conver- 
sation often turned on the advance of science as contribut- 
ing to the general well-being of mankind, and to the wide 
ditlusion of the conveniences of life. His aim then, as 
afterwards, was to raise humanity to a higher level. The 


ministry of the gospel was the gi'eat lever, but subordinate 
agencies he recognized in their appropriate working." 

Of his preaching she remarks, — 

" To the young it would not be generally interesting. 
He was a good deal confined to his notes. The subject 
was discussed with great clearness, and his power of 
analysis seemed to me wonderful. He appealed to the 
reason more than to the emotions, and though exceedingly 
impressive and always instructive, did not warm and 
animate his audience as much as some men of inferior 
powers. The technicalities of religion he avoided. His 
language was that of common life. His Wednesday 
evening lectures, at which he never used notes, and which 
were generally of an expository character, were peculiarly 
interesting, and were alv/ays well attended." 

Mrs. O'Brien remarks, — 

" As a pastor, his influence was remarkable. Persons 
were surprised at his insight into the secret springs of their 
thoughts and feelings, and were led to open their hearts to 
him in the fullest confidence ; nor was their confidence ever 
misplaced. In conversation he excelled, not only in com- 
municating his own thoughts and feelings, but in drawing 
out the minds of others, discovering to them their own in- 
ward resources, and making them self-reliant and aspiring. 
If one were involved in perplexity, he had a happy faculty 
of giving just the counsel needed, often by some pithy 
maxim, that fastened itself in the memory." 

Dr. Pattison remarks, in speaking of his character and 
labors as a pastor, — 

" He sought the conversion of his acquaintances one by 
ofie — sometimes by private conversation : when he could 
not see them personally, he addressed, as I know, many 
by letter, — short, it might be a mere note, — not onl}^ seri- 
ous, but eminently tender and persuasive. I have reason to 
believe he had ordinarily in mind some one or more out- 
side of his own domestic circle for whose salvation he 
labored and prayed. Such a habit, nourished by such a 
spirit, must have made him a useful pastor." 

As we have alluded to the character of his sermons 


during the earlier years of his ministry, it is but just to 
add that a marked progress is clearly discernible. Those 
of the latter half of his ministry greatly excel those of the 
former- in simplicity, in directness, in clearness of style, 
in effectiveness. Less rhetorical, they ai-e morally much 
more impressive. We apprehend that the change to 
which w^e refer will be noticed by any one who shall 
read in succession the Missionary Sermon, of 1823, and 
the sermon on the Duties of an American Citizen, of 

As to the plainness, wisdom, and love which were 
mingled in his preaching, a single circumstance is a 
more impressive testimony than the most eloquent eulo- 
giums. He preached a sermon upon intemperance, ex- 
hibiting not alone the ruinous effects of indulgence in 
the vice, but the sinfulness of doing aught that would 
promote it. The next day, a member of his church called 
upon him and said, " I have been in the habit of selling 
liquor at my store. But if what you said yesterday is 
true, it is wrong, and I ought to abandon it, however 
much the step may reduce my profits." He accordingly 
renounced all connection with the traffic. It is a sincere 
pleasure to record this incident in the life of one of whom 
Dr. Wayland writes, — 

"John Sullivan was one of the older members of the 
cliurch, an Israelite indeed, in whom wa^ no guile. 
Humble, mild, amiable, slow of speech and action, he 
honored his profession by a holy walk and conversation." 

We return to the narrative of Mr. Wayland's life and 
ministry. On the 21st of November, 1825, he was married, 
by Dr. Sharp, to Miss Lucy L. Lincoln, of Boston. Her 
brother, Deacon Heman Lincoln, and her sisters, Mrs. 
O'Brien and Mrs. Haven, had long been, and ever con- 
tinued to be, among his most endeared and valued friends. 

To Mr. Potter, who had just been invited to St. Paul's 
Church, Boston, he writes, — 


" It looks as though the hand of God was in it. I 
write with a mixture of regret and pleasure. I know so 
well the painfulness of breaking up long-cherished rela- 
tions, and entering upon the discharge of new and untried 
duties, that 1 cannot but sympathize with you, while I 
thank God that it is so, 

" I pray, my dear Potter, that you may be blessed with 
that child-like reliance on omniscient wisdom which shall 
support you, and that clear view of the designs of Prov- 
idence, that your path maj' be entirely plain. I will only 
add, that every day seems to present some new feature, 
which develops more and more the importance of the sta- 
tion, and the necessity of having here a liberal, and catholic, 
and evangelical man. 

" Should you come, I hope I need not say that you 
have a home here already prepared. I will only add, that 
you will drive to iSS Hanover Street, opposite 2^Ir. Ware's 

Notwithstanding the growing reputation of the minister, 
his evident piety, his varied ability, the increasing union 
and attachment of the people, yet there was a want of 
prosperity. During nearly every month additions were 
made to the church, not large in number, yet sufficient to 
show that labor was not spent in vain. But the congrega- 
tion remained neai'ly stationary. The ability of the society 
did not increase. A debt had for several years been rest- 
ing on them. This was removed, largely or entirely, 
through the exertions of the pastor, who, in addition to 
the labor of personal solicitation, gave one sixth of the 
amount raised. But even after this removal was effected, 
the income did not meet the expenses, and another debt 
was accumulating. 

Convinced that the location of the house of worship 
was an obstacle to the prosperity of the church, he pro- 
posed the erection of a new house, on a more eligible site. 
Apart from a want of confidence in the pecuniary ability 
of the society for such an undertaking, two reasons were 
urged against the step proposed. To remove from the 

present location would put it out of the power of several 
VOL. I. 13 

194 ^^^^ °^ FRANCIS WAYLAND. 

very aged members, residing in the vicinity, to attend 
meeting (though, indeed, as it was, they scarcely ever 
were present). The second reason, which settled the 
question, w^as, that Dr. Stillman had preached in that 
house, and walked down that plank walk. Nothing came 
of the movement ; but after it was too late, it was ascer- 
tained that several gentlemen of wealth, attached to other 
denominations, who placed a just estimate on the ability 
of Mr. Wayland, would have cooperated liberally in the 
erection of a new meeting-house. 

The salary, which had formerly been sufficient for his 
wants, now proved inadequate to the needs of one who, in 
addition to his own family, had assumed the whole respon- 
sibility of the education of his younger brother. Dr. 
Neale says, " He was too humble, or moi-e likely too 
proud, to ask to have his salary raised." 

He had, too, gradually become involved in a variety of 
cares and labors outside of the parish, which consumed 
his time and crippled his ministry, yet from which he 
scarcely knew how to free himself. 

We believe, however, that we shall best satisfy the reader 
by presenting Dr. Wayland's own view of his ministry, 
and of the causes which led to the termination of k : — 

" I had intended to preach without the use of a manu- 
script. I began by committing my sermons. This I prac- 
tised for a short time, and should have had no difficulty 
in continuing it. My friends, however, especially my 
deacons, advised me to read ; I followed their advice, and 
thus became a reader of sermons. This I conceive to 
have been the great error of my life as a preacher. I 
had, it is true, little practice as a speaker. I presume I 
was awkward in the pulpit. I know that I did not feel at 
home there, and I had little confidence in my control over 
an audience. I had little power of self-excitement. This 
needed cultivation by the intercourse of speaker with au- 
dience. My compass of voice needed enlargement. Yet 
I had, I think, the elements of an impressive speaker ; 
and when I have addressed an audience under favorable 


circumstances, I think I have frequently been successful. 
Had I at this time boldly thrown myself on my own re- 
sources, with reliance on the promised aid of the Spirit 
of God, I might have been much more useful. 

" I saw the absurdity of attempting to conduct the 
Wednesday evening service with a wiitten discourse, 
and I prepared myself, as well as I was able, to preach 
extempore. At first my eflbrts were sad failures, though 
I took a large part of the day for prepai^ation. I resolved 
that it must be done. I continued doing as well as I 
could. By degrees the work became less difficult, and 
at last it became a pleasure. The vestry was well filled, 
and I think more good was done than on the Sabbath. 
I then acquired some facility in extempore speaking, and 
no doubt some vitality was imparted to my written dis- 

" The foundation defect in my ministry was, that I did 
not gain victory over myself. I was, I believe, the only 
settled Baptist minister in Boston who had received a 
collegiate education. I naturally conceived the idea that 
more was expected of me than of my brethren. I 
preached a missionary sermon, which, upon being pub- 
lished, was highly applauded. Subsequently I preached 
a Fast Day sermon, which was also published and well 
received. I thus gained a reputation (as I always thought 
much above my deserts) which has had a powerful influ- 
ence on my subsequent course. 

" I do not know that I was led from these circumstances 
to place a high estimate on my own abilities. I do not 
think that this has been my sin. I indeed acquired the 
belief that I could do some things (that is, the things that 
I had done) ; but there my self-confidence rested. What- 
ever of success I have achieved may be traced to a dogged 
resolution to do my duty, rather than to any other source. 

" But I was led to think that plain, simple, unadorned 
address, though sintable to other occasions, would not be 
appropriate for the pulpit. I could not persuade myself 
to carry the Wednesday evening service into the pulpit on 
the Sabbath. I never set myself at work resolutely to be- 
come a preacher^ that is, one who, out of a full heart, and 
without reading, delivers his message to the people. 

" I do not know that I was preeminently at fault above 
others. I was, I think, considered direct in my appeals 


to the consciences of men. The most religious of my 
heai'ers were pleased with my preaching, and were at- 
tached to me, as I was to them. But if I had gained a 
proper victory over myself, over my love for reputation, 
and desire to be useful to my denomination by raising 
their intellectual character, — and if I had, in reliance upon 
the Holy Spirit, labored simply for the conversion of 
souls, — I firmly believe that I should have been more use- 
ful, and I should now look upon the past with far greater 

" In another respect I review my ministry with regret. 
I was placed by my brethren on boards of societies, and 
took a part in all the measures that were in progress for 
the promotion of religion in connection with our denomi- 
nation ; the Triennial Convention, the State Convention, 
and the Magazine. I was not employed in secular busi- 
ness. My labors were ecclesiastical. Now, this sort of labor 
took up directly, or indirectly, much of my time. Directly, 
I was obliged to write much, and to attend a variety of 
meetings. Indirectly, I was obliged to see a multitude of 
people. Frequently, before I had composed myself to 
work in my study in the morning, I was called down, 
and was occupied with people until dinner ; and some- 
times the afternoon was spent in the same way. Thus all 
my plans for improvement were broken up ; consecutive 
study became impossible, and I frequently said that the 
Bible and my own sermons were all my leading. When 
a man's mind is thus occupied, his interest in his people 
will gradually diminish. His outside work seems to be 
religious ; it must be done to-day : his work for his people 
may be done to-morrow, or next week ; and in the end it 
is not done at all. At last his real work, the work for 
which he is jDaid, — labor for the conversion of the souls 
committed to his care, — receives only the chippings and 
leavings of his time ; and even these chippings and leav- 
ings have in them no vitality. 

" Another eficct of this multiplication of business is, to 
break up all habits of devotion, till a man's religion be- 
comes often a dry skeleton of orthodox doctrine, rather 
than a living fountain within him, quickening his own 
soul, and refreshinp- the souls of others. But the minister 
has the same liability to sin as other people, and some 
temptations peculiar to himself. If his religion has be- 


come inoperative, the power of temptation is redoubled, 
and nothing but the especial grace of God can preserve 
him from falling into sin. 

" During my ministry I foiled greatly from neglecting 
to read the Scriptures. I read them in my private devo- 
tions, and to find texts to preach from ; but I did not study 
them ceaselessly, as the great source from which to derive 
all that I was to preach to my people. I fear that this 
error is far too common. I well remember a conversation 
which I once had with Professor Stuart bearing on this 
point. He wanted to see a theological seminary in 
which nothing should be studied but the Scriptures. 

" I also erred, during my ministry, in respect to vis- 
iting my people. From the amount of out-door religious 
business, I had but scant time for this duty, especially 
during the last part of my settlement. I was not, indeed, 
much complained of; I felt and acknowledged the obli- 
gation. I never regarded it as ' an intolerable bore.' 
But I did not make it a part of the regular business of 
every week and every day. I also erred in the manner 
of it. I did not deal faithfully enough with my people. 
To the religious, so far as I remember, I was in the habit 
of talking upon religion ; and I made myself so familiar 
with them, that they would see me in the midst of their or- 
dinary avocations. I remember cases of edifying religious 
conversation with members of my church over the wash- 
tub. If I heard of any who were thoughtful on the sub- 
ject of religion, I never neglected them, and was careful 
to introduce them to those who would do them good. 
But with those v*^ho were wholly worldly, I fear that I 
was often found wanting. I did not get them alone and 
set their danger before them, so that I could say, ' I am 
free from the blood of all men.' The Lord pardon me, 
and lay not the sin of blood-guiltiness to my charge. 

" And yet I cannot say that I was wholly unmindful 
of my duty in this respect. One incident I recall with 
pleasure. One member of my church was a very high 
Calvinist — higher a great deal, I apprehend, than Calvin 
himself. He did not consider me ' clear in the doctrines.' 
He himself was perfectly clear, and was, so far as a good 
man could be, a thorough fatalist. He was very unwilling 
to have me invite sinners indiscriminately to repent and 
believe. His family were amiable and intelligent, but 


entirely worldly. I believed it to be my duty to converse 
with them on the subject of religion, and did so, but with 
very little success. The next time I saw their father, he 
l^lainly, though very kindly, told me that he did not wish 
any one to converse with his children on religion; for if 
they were elected, they would certainly be converted ; if 
they were not elected, talking to them would only make 
them h3'pocrites. From this incident I am encouraged 
to hope that I was not wholly wanting in the performance 
of tliis part of my duty, for its performance in this in- 
stance would seem peculiarly trying to a young minister. 
I am sure, however, that I fell very far short of my duty, 
both in universality and in earnestness. 

"• But the source of all my errors may be summed up 
in few words : I was not sufficiently religious. I was 
greatly wanting in that fiiith that brings home to the soul 
eternal things with the force of an imminent reality. I 
was too easily satisfied with employing all my time in 
labor (for I was not an idle man), instead of devoting 
myself to the work of saving souls, in humble reliance 
on the power of the Spirit of God. I see that I had a 
sort of idea that I might so construct and deliver a dis- 
course that by its own inherent energy it would produce 
a moral effect. Hence my work of preparation was an 
intellectual rather than a moral and spiritual effort. I 
relied in a certain way, it is true, on the Spirit, and looked 
to him for his assistance, but far too inadequately. I was 
not habitually devotional. I lived, as I now see, by no 
means near to God. I wonder that God did any good 
through me, and that he did not cast me aside, as a vessel 
in whom he has no pleasure. But in spite of all my 
deficiencies, the church became, I believe, more religious, 
and souls were given as the seals of my imperfect and 
faulty ministry." 

We have introduced these remarks, believing that the 
estimate which he placed on his ministry in Boston would 
not be without interest to the reader. Yet we think it right 
to add, that however it may be in the divine view, it is 
probable that no human observer would concede in full 
the justness of his review. It is certain that he was re- 
garded as in an unusual degree a devotional, faithful 


pastor, a scriptural, searching, and eminently evangelical 
preacher ; and the more simple-minded and spiritual of 
his hearers found themselves the most highly profited by 
his ministry. The fact that during the latter part of his 
settlement he was invited to the pastorate of a church then 
just organized in the city, and that he declined to accept it, 
from a belief that so many of the principal members of his 
ow^n people would follow him as to enfeeble and destroy 
the church to which he had been ministering, — bears 
testimony to the regard in which he was held by his 
brethren, and by Christians in the community, as well as 
to his self-forgetfulncss. It is certain too that he under- 
rates the effect of his own preaching. In fact, its full re- 
sults were probably never known to him. During the 
year following his removal from Boston, an extensive 
revival pervaded the city, and the First Church, though 
at the time destitute of a minister, shared in its blessings. 
And many who were then converted ascribed their con- 
version to his labors. A minister* writes, "In suppl}- 
ing the pulpit of that church many years after, I heard one 
of the members say that a large part of the candidates 
for admission, since Dr. Wayland left the pulpit, dated 
their first serious thoughts from his sermons." As he un- 
derrated, or was ignorant of, the results of his labors, may 
we not also believe that he put too low an estimate upon 
the fidelity, the earnestness, the piety of which his labors 
were the offspring? 

In the spring of 1S26, very unexpectedly to himself, he 
received a letter from Dr. Nott, Inquiring if he would 
accept the Professorship In Union College, recently relin- 
quished by Dr. Potter. After some deliberation he promised 
to accept the appointment, influenced in this decision by 
the inadequacy of his Income, by discouragement with his 
supposed want of success, by the apparent impossibility 
of achieving extensive results in the location tlien oc- 
cupied by the society, and by a determination to free hlm- 

* Rev. William B. Jacobs. 


self from the diversified employments which had rendered 
his life, of late, so fragmentary and futile. He adds, " It 
was never my intention, by accepting a professorship, to 
relinquish the ministry. I thought it likely that, within a 
fevi^ years, some opening would appear in the neighbor- 
hood of Boston, to which place I had become much at- 
tached, and that I could return without inflicting an injury 
on my people." 

At the monthly meeting of the church in July, Mr. 
Wayland read a letter addressed to the church, in which, 
after referring in terms of gratitude to the kindness which 
they had exhibited during the five years of his ministry, 
and the charity which they had extended to his imperfect 
labors, he adds, — 

" It cannot, however, brethren, have escaped your no- 
tice, that my success has, for some time past, been less 
than you had a right to expect. It has, indeed, been such 
as seemed to indicate that Providence designed me for 
some other field of labor ; and after prayerfully reflecting 
upon the subject, such is the conclusion at which I have 
ultimately arrived. This conviction is further strength- 
ened by the fact that at this time another sphere of useful- 
ness has been presented before me, which, in the existing 
circumstances of the case, I feel that it is my duty to ac- 
cept. It is painful to me to refer to our pecuniary concerns. 
You will, therefore, allow me only to remark on this part 
of the subject, that I feared lest, by longer retaining the 
office which I hold, I should create embarrassments to 
you as well as to myself. Under these circumstances I 
do hereby respectfully request to be dismissed from the 
pastoral care of this church and society." 

To all the members of the church these words were 
utterly unexpected, and they were received in amazement 
and tearful regret. 

Dr. Wayland writes, — 

" When I resigned my place, it was a matter of great 
surprise, and, I believe, of sincere pain, to my people. 
I found that they loved me much better than I had sup- 
posed ; indeed, had I known, before I was pledged, how 


sincerely they were attached to nie, I think I should never 
have left them. This attachment has continued to the 
present day. No member of that church or congregation, 
now after thirty-five years, ever meets me without the 
most affectionate recognition ; and none love me more 
than those who at first bitterly opposed me. I was set- 
tled in Boston for five years. I did not then understand 
the value of the element of time in producing results. I 
supposed that changes might be effected more rapidly 
than was actually possible. I also underrated the results 
which had been produced. ISIany persons, comparing 
the condition of the church when I left them with its 
condition when I entered on my ministry, considered my 
labors more than commonly useful. 

" Two questions here arise, as to my resignation and as 
to the manner of it. As to leaving the ministry, I doubt, 
at the present time, the wisdom of the step. Were the 
decision to be made again, with my present knowledge 
of duty, I think I should not leave the pulpit. My deliv- 
ery, it is true, was not good. I may well say it was not 
attractive, since it did not attract. My situation was, in 
many respects, unfavorable, and there were many disad- 
vantages from without to be overcome. Yet they might 
have been overcome. With my present judgment I 
should have remained where I was, corrected my deliver}-, 
and devoted myself entirely to my ministry. Determined 
to deserve success, and relying on the Spirit of God, I 
might reasonably have hoped for it. As to^the manner 
of leaving my people, I have long looked on it as an error. 
I pledged myself to go, without giving my people an op- 
portunity to remove the obstacles to my continuance. I 
should, before making a decision, have laid the case be- 
fore them, that the claims, both of the college and of the 
church, might be fairly presented." 

On the 17th of September he preached his farewell ser- 
mon, from I Thess. ii. 19 : " For what is our hope, or joy, 
or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence 
of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming?" Dr. Stow, who 
was present, and who had occupied the pulpit dui-ing the 
day, says, " It was not wanting in tenderness, but was 
eminently instructive and impressive." 


We cannot more appropriately close the record of his 
ministry in Boston, than by quoting a letter written to 
Dr. Neale, March i8, 1S65, in reply to a letter from the 
latter, inviting him to be present at the approaching two 
hundredth anniversary of the First Baptist Church, and 
requesting from him some notices and recollections of the 
period of his pastoral labors. 

" Your letter of the 14th arrived a few days since. 
With I'egard to what you say of one of your predecessors, 
I desire neither to be squeamish nor self-laudatory. I think 
you know me well enough for that. I have never sought 
or canvassed for a place among my brethren. I have 
declined many, really preferring to do the work rather 
than to seem to do it. I know that as a pastor I had a 
multitude of deficiencies, but I humbly hope that I tried 
to do my duty. I do not think that I ever endeavored to 
save myself; but if any good v/as done, it was all, all the 
work of the blessed Savior. I was at best but a miserable 
instrument. But in all you say, let this one idea predomi- 
nate and govern : All to the glory of Christ. If it please 
God, I will endeavor to be with you. Let all be religious, 
that God may bless it ; let it do good to those that come 
after us. May God help you and all of us." 

The reader will also be interested in a review and 
estimate of Dr. Wayland's ministry, found in his " Let- 
ters on the Ministry of the Gospel." The passage con- 
taining this review closes as follows : " If I have any 
knowledge of the faults of the ministry, the germs, at 
least, of that knowledge have been derived from my own 
painful exjoerience." 

Of his brief period of labor at Union College, he 
writes, — 

" In September, 1826, 1 went to Union College. It was 
intended that I sliould permanently accept the professor- 
ship of moral philosophy, though I temporarily supplied 
that of mathematics and natural philosophy. I entered 
at once upon my duties with interest. When a tutor, I 
had taught most all of the mathematical studies which 
now fell to my lot. With natural philosophy I was less 


familiar. I succeeded, however, in putting the apparatus 
(which had been much neglected) in order, and in giving 
tlie class all the illustrations which the subject required. 
I believe my teaching was considered useful. I also had 
the opportunity of renewing my acquaintance with my 
old friend. Dr. Nott. 

" About the time of my leaving Boston, Dr. Messer, the 
President of Brown University, was on the point of re- 
signing. I had been urged to become a candidate for 
the office. My friends in the vicinity of Boston, especially 
Dr. Sharp and Dr. Bolles, pressed it. In the course of the 
autumn Dr. M. resigned. I had now become very pleas- 
antly situated at Schenectady. ^ly feelings, however, 
turned towards New England, and the hope of doing 
something for my own denomination had much weight 
with me. There was some doubt as to the election, as 
one or two candidates besides myself had been presented. 
I had but little anxiety about the result, although the un- 
certainty was annoying. I had left my family for the 
time in Boston, but I now determined on a day beyond 
which I would no longer wait in uncertainty, but if noth- 
ing decisive occurred previous to that time, I would remove 
my family and my effects to Schenectady, and would lay 
aside all thoughts of the other position. Previously to 
this time, however, I received news of my election. I 
thereupon resigned my professorship, and returned to 
Boston, to prepare for the duties of the office to which I 
had been called." 

In February, 1S27, he removed permanently to Provi- 
dence, and entered on his work as President. 







AS early as August, 1826, before Mr. Wayland had 
left Boston, an article on Brown University appeared 
in a leading journal in Providence, deploring the deca- 
dence of the college, urging the imperative necessity of a 
change in its administration, and indicating Mr. Wayland 
as a person eminently fitted, by education, experience, and 
capacity, to preside over the institution. Similar vievys 
were expressed, in subsequent articles, in the same journal, 
and were echoed by prominent newspapers in New York, 
Massachusetts, and Connecticut. No one of these presses 
represented the Baptist denomination, but in every case 
the favorable ojiinions expressed of Mr. Wayland were 
founded on the position which he had already reached, 
as a man of commanding talent, catholic sentiments, and 
eminent success in the work of education. In all these 
utterances the newspapers only expressed a feeling which 
for years had been growing among the friends of the 

Our readers will remember that Professor Stuart had 
already intimated that in his judgment a new regime was 
demanded, and had alluded to the advantages to be 
secured by giving to Mr. Wayland a voice in the councils 
of the institution. Moreover, fears were entertained (how 
justly it is not necessary at this late day to decide) that 


the religious convictions of President Messer had under- 
gone a marked change, and that his instructions had a 
manifest tendency towards Unitarianism. 

In September, 1826, President Messer resigned, and in 
December of the same year, Professor Wayland was unan- 
imously elected as his successor. Of the commencement 
of his career as president of Brown University, Dr. Way- 
land writes, in his reminiscences, — 

" The condition of the college was not encouraging. 
The number of undergraduates was small. Discipline 
had been neglected. Difficulties had arisen between the 
president and the trustees, and between the president and 
some members of the Faculty. In point of fact the 
college had not a high reputation in the community, and 
probably did not deserv^e it. 

" The first business which I undertook was to frame a 
new set of laws for the college. This, of course, involved 
the introduction of material changes. It made a vastly 
greater amount of labor necessary for both officers and 
students. The design v/as to render study not a sham, 
but a reality, and discipline not a form, but a fact. The 
previous method of recitation by question and answer was 
abolished, and, except in the teaching of languages, neither 
officers nor students used a book in the class. Officers 
were to occupy apaitments in college during the day and 
evening, and were to visit the rooms of students at least 
twice during the twenty-four hours. Spirituous liquors, 
which had been commonly in use, were banished from 
the college premises.* A system of marks was devised, 
by which a parent could know the standing of his son at 
the close of every term. Power was given to the presi- 
dent to send away from college any young man whose 
conduct rendered him an improper associate for his fellov/- 
students, or whose further connection with his class could 
be of no use to himself or to his friends. The parent was 

* Up to this time it had been the custom to provide wine at the 
Commencement dinner. Cider was frequently furnished to the 
students boarding in college commons, and a barrel of ale was 
always kept on tap in the cellar, to which all undergraduates had 
free access. 


the individual with whom all intercourse respecting the 
son was carried on, whereas, hitherto, the dealing had 
been mainly with the pupil himself. In short, obso- 
lete laws and usages were abandoned, and new duties 
were required of both instructors and students. The design 
was to render the college a place of real study and im- 
l^rovement ; to establish the existence of authority on the 
part of the officers, and of obedience on the part of the 
students, but all in the spirit of love and good will. The 
requirements for admission had been greatly relaxed. 
These were raised to the standard of New England col- 
leges generally, and it was understood that they would be 
strictly enforced. 

" The laws were enacted at a special meeting of the 
corporation, after having been approved by the Faculty. 
The college, under the new arrangements, commenced 
operations in February, 1S27. 

" At this time, the beginning of my independent labors 
as an instructor, I was deeply impressed with the impor- 
tance of two things : first, of carrying into practice every 
science which was taught in theory, and secondly, of 
adapting the course of instruction, as for as possible, to 
the wants of the whole community. The first seemed to 
me all-important as a means of intellectual discipline. 
The abstract principles of a science, if learned merely as 
disconnected truths, are soon forgotten. If combined 
with application to matters of actual existence, they will 
be remembered. Nor is this all. By uniting practice 
with theory, the mind acquii'es the habit of acting in 
obedience to law, and thus is brought into harmony with 
a universe which is governed by law. 

" In the second place, if education is good for one class 
of the community, it is good for all classes. Not that the 
same studies are to be pursued by all, but tliat each one 
should have the opportunity of pursuing such studies as 
will be of the greatest advantage to him in the course of 
life which he has chosen. 

" As I have said, I was strongly impressed with these 
ideas from the commencement. I found myself, however, 
unable to carry them out in practice. They did not seem 
either to the Faculty or to the corporation as practical, but 
rather as visionary. The funds of the college were very 
small, — hardly more than thirty thousand dollars, — the 


interest of which, with the avails of tuition, was all the 
income that we possessed. To adopt and act upon the 
principles which I have indicated would have imposed 
upon the Faculty much additional labor, or would have 
made necessary the appointment of several additional 
officers of instruction. In the mean time the experiment, 
if successful, would not become remunerative until its 
merits had been demonstrated to the community. For 
this we had no adequate means, and I saw that for the 
present, at least, the plan was impracticable. 

" All that remained was to raise the standard of scholar-^' 
ship in the college, constituted as it then was, and to im- 
prove, to the utmost of our power, its discipline and 
moral character. In this attempt we were all of one 
mind, and we labored with earnestness and self-forgetful 
diligence. The result, I think, was such as to give us 
cause for encouragement. It was the general impression 
that the character of the students was materially improved. 
Intemperance and idleness disaj^peared. It became an 
honorable distinction to be a hai'd student. The exam- 
ination at the close of the first term was decidedly suc- 
cessful. Gentlemen from the city attended in considerable 
numbers, and expi-essed themselves delighted with the evi- 
dent improvement. The students themselves seemed very 
much gratified. The Senior class, especially, acted a most 
honorable part, and were the pioneers of the new move- 
ment. Among them were several men of fine talents and 
highly estimable character. They comprehended their 
position, and responded promptly to all that it required. 
To themselves the effort was of great service, morally and 
intellectually. Hon. John H. ClilTord, since attorney- 
general of Alassachusetts, and still later governor of that 
commonwealth, — a member of the class of 1S27, — has, 
on eveiy occasion, referred to his last collegiate year as 
the foundation of his future eminence, and the commence- 
ment of his brilliant career. Whatever honor is awarded 
to this change in the condition of the college, a large 
share of it belongs to the graduating class of 1827. The 
exercises of Commencement were, I believe, vmusually 
satisfactory, and the termination of the first year was re- 
garded as very auspicious. 

" In connection with the changes to which I have alluded, 
it was necessary to establish one principle of importance, 


namely, that every member of the Faculty should devote 
his whole time to instruction, and also occupy a. room in 
the college buildings. Previously, several gentlemen had 
performed some service, at the same time that they lived at 
home, and were engaged in other avocations ; vvhile they 
received, if I remember correctly, nearly as large compen- 
sation as those whose whole time was devoted to instruc- 
tion. The regular officers were competent to perform all 
the required duties, and by thus dispensing with outside 
services, they found their means of subsistence materially 

" As would naturally be supposed, changes of this kind 
could not be made without giving offence to the gentle- 
men whose connection with the corps of instruction had 
been of the limited nature already indicated. I think I 
do not exaggerate when I say that no efforts were spared 
to break down the new arrangements, and to render odious 
the person to whose agency they were attributed. Public 
addresses on other subjects were made to bear upon the 
recent changes in the college, and to cover them with 
ridicule. Some of the most influential newspapers were 
used for the same purpose. 

" The first class which entered under the new administra- 
tion was smaller than usual ; I think not more tlian one 
half the number of the preceding year. It may be inferred 
that our affairs looked gloomy. Providence had not at 
that time more than a fourth of its present population. 
I was not known to the community, and, I presume, was 
generally considered a rash and headstrong young man, 
determined to overthrow the works of my predecessors, 
and having but little respect for the wisdom of the an- 
cients. As is usual in such cases, the community, which 
had been thoroughly dissatisfied with the previous con- 
dition of the college, and had frequently spoken of it as 
a disgrace to the city, now that the attempt was made to 
institute a reform, raised a hue and cry, and readily joined 
the opposition, doubting whether (granting that reforms 
were needed) this mode of accomplishing a change were 
wise. The leading members of the corporation, how- 
ever, coincided with me in opinion, and, assuring me 
of their cordial sympathy, advised me to continue fear- 
lessly in the course which I had commenced. I cannot 
omit to mention the name of one gentleman connected 


with the corporation to whom I was especially indebted 
for wise counsel and generous encouragement — the late 
Thomas P. Ives, a man whose quiet opinion carried 
more weight than that of any ten men in Providence. 

" The etTect of all this upon the undergradiiatcs may 
be easily imagined. The students, after the first excite- 
ment had passed, began to feel unaccustomed restraint 
to be oppressive. The}' became restless, and it was said 
that they were encouraged in this state of feeling by those 
gentlemen who had been obliged, by the recent college 
regulations, to relinquish their offices as instructors. The 
Senior class was the focus in which these elements of 
insubordination concentrated. The members of this class 
made preparation to leave college in a body, and to enter 
some other institution. They were very nearly anticipated 
in this design ; for on an expected contingency, I had 
decided to dismiss them all without recommendation or 
certificate of standing. The expected difficulties, how- 
ever, soon disappeared, for what reason I do not now 
remember. I never made any reply to the attack which 
had been made upon my administration. I reli-ed wholly 
upon the blessing of God promised to every one who dis- 
interestedly endeavors to do his duty. 

" Vv'hen the income of the college was reduced in con- 
sequence of the diminished number of the students, my 
salary was, by my ov/n suggestion I think, made smaller. 
I much preferred that it should be so. 1 was not respon- 
sible for the continuance of a college in Providence, but I 
considered myself responsible for the conduct of the col- 
lege on correct principles so long as it continued. What 
income I derived from mv joosition was a secondary mat- 
ter. I could live on the poorest fare and wear the cheap- 
est clothing, but I must and would do what seemed my 
duty. Having done this, I was not responsible for the 

" Year after year the number of students increased. A 
valuable set of apparatus was presented to the college by 
]Messrs. Brown and Ives. A fund of twenty-five thousand 
dollars was raised for the increase of the library. Students 
who had graduated under what was called the ' New 
System,' were appointed to places of instruction as va- 
cancies occurred, and in a few years all moved on as 
harmoniously as if no other system had ever been known. 

VOL. I. 14 


In writing of these affairs I have referred mainly to myself, 
because I am the subject of this narration ; but I desire, 
once for all, to say that I only acted one part in the drama. 
The other officers of the college aided me with entire una- 
nimity, and disinterested effort, and similar sacrifices. If 
any marked improvement was made, the credit of that 
improvement should be shared equally by all." 

At the dinner which formed a part of the Centennial 
Celebration of Brown University, September 6, 1864, Dr. 
Wayland*alluded to some of the circumstances which at- 
tended his entrance on the presidency. Although in some 
passages he touches upon topics already considered, we 
are unwilling to destroy the continuity of his remarks by 
any omissions. 

"... I was called to the presidency of this college at 
a time when the corporation supposed that important 
changes were required in order to promote the best in- 
terests of the institution. The college was not deemed to 
be in a flourishing condition ; through whose foult, or 
whether through the fault of any one, I cannot say, nor 
have I ever inquired. It is sufficient to remember that 
such was generally believed to be the fact. 

" They v/isel}' determined to commence their reforma- 
tion with the officers of instruction. None of them, I 
believe, had previously occupied a room in college, and 
their influence was, of course, limited almost entirely to 
their presence in the recitation-room. Several of them 
were gentlemen engaged in the active duties of profes- 
sional life, and, except for a few months of the year, had 
no practical connection with the college. To remedy 
this state of things, the corporation enacted that every 
jorofessor in the college should devote himself exclusively 
to the labor of teaching, and should also occupy a room 
in the college buildings during the hours appropriated to 
study. In consequence of this order, we lost the sei-vices 
of some gentlemen, who, as has been said, were only oc- 
casionally connected with the college, and the business 
of teaching devolved wholly on those officers who made 
education their life work. We were thus enabled to in- 

* President Wajland received the degree of D. D. from Union 
College in 1S27, and from Harvard College in 1S29. 


crease materially the salaries of the resident officers. It 
was, at the same time, distinctly stated that these salaries 
were given and accepted on the condition that the pro- 
fessors should comply with the enactments just mentioned. 

" The rooms of these officers were so distributed, that 
each one had vnider his special supervision a given num- 
ber of students, for whose conduct he was considered 
specially responsible, and whose rooms he was to visit 
once during the evening, and once, at least, during the 
day. These visits you all well remember, and very few 
of you, I presume, do not recollect that occasionally the 
presence of the officer delivered you from the company 
of unwelcome visitors, and, perhaps, sometimes saved 
you from the misfortune of wasting the time of others. I 
think, in my course of visiting, I rarely found you out of 
your rooms, except from the very reasonable cause of a 
failure of memory. The common excuse was, ' I only 
stepped in a moment, sir, to inquire where the lesson 
was.' This inquiry was promptly answered, and the 
student was soon in his own room quietly pursuing his 

" It was believed by the corporation that the parents 
and guardians of youth should, at the close of each term, 
be made acquainted with the standing of those whom 
they sent here for education. For this purpose the 
' Merit Roll ' was established. Every officer took daily 
notes of the recitation of every student in his class. These 
notes were averaged at the close of the week ; these 
averages were again averaged at the close of the term, 
and the result was communicated to the parent, with the 
regular college bill. Each student thus knew that every 
recitation would tell upon the account which would meet 
him on his return, in vacation, to his family and friends. 

" It was also determined, that every recitation should be 
a real trial of strength, and a test of previous diligence. 
To this end it was enacted that neither professor nor 
student should ever use a book in the recitation-room, 
except in those studies where books were absolutely indis- 
pensable. The result was, that a knowledge of the sub- 
ject was so fully acquired, that commonly a large propor- 
tion of every class could give, at a final examination, the 
substance of the whole volume which they had studied 
during the preceding term. 

" To some persons this discipline seemed needlessly 


severe. It was real and strict, yet kind ; the intercourse 
of well-bred men with each other. The young men be- 
came earnest in study, and those who were present when 
the transition took place, have assured me that during no 
part of their residence at college were they so happy as 
after these changes had been inaugurated. 

" Under these circumstances we commenced the last 
term of the college year 1827. The example of the Senior 
class, which came more immediately under my instruc- 
tion, was worthy of all praise. They comprehended their 
position, and knew that on the exemplification of the new 
system by them depended greatly the future success of 
the college. Their conduct, both as students and as young 
gentlemen, was high-minded and exemplary. At the close 
of the term they greatly distinguished themselves. Of 
one of them I would like to speak, but his presence bids 
me forbear. [Referring to Hon. John H. Clitibrd, who 
presided on this occasion.] It is enough to say, that he 
then gave promise of arriving at that eminence to which 
he has attained. 

" It had been said that this was, of all colleges, the 
easiest to enter and the hardest to leave. This impres- 
sion, whether it had been true or false, the course adopted 
by the corporation tended to reverse. They raised at once 
the i-equirements for admission to the level of the best 
colleges in New England, and directed that these require- 
ments should be rigidly enforced. At the same time they 
made it my duty, whenever a student, from indolence 
or negligence, was doing good neither to the institution 
nor to himself, to inform his parents, and desire his im- 
mediate removal from the institution. 

" It may be supposed that, at first, these regulations led 
to a diminution of our numbers. The first class which 
entered after the ' nexv system ' commenced was small ; it 
graduated, I think, but thirteen. There were croakers in 
those days, and they predicted the downfall of the college 
from such new and unwise regulations. For some time 
it was necessary to reduce our salaries. But we were all 
in excellent spirits. We did not ' bate a jot of heart or 
hope, but still bore up and steered right onward.' I well 
remember a conversation with the late Professor Goddard, 
now with God, on the subject of our prospects. We both 
concluded that whether a college existed here or not, was 


none of our concern. Our duty was, so long as it existed, 
to make it a good college.* The vessel might sink, but, 
if so, it should sink with all its colors flying ; we would 
strive to make it a place of thorough education, and the 
cultivation of elevated and noble character." 

In the foregoing brief recital of his efforts to improve 
the character, elevate the scholai'ship, and increase the 
educational advantages of Brown University, Dr. Wayland 
has, with his accustomed modesty, made but slight and 
incidental allusion to the amount of his own labor. But 
perhaps no period of his life furnishes more forcible 
illustration of the salient points of his character than the 
early years of his presidency. His untiring industry ; 
his close attention to details, where moral principle was 
involved, or the general welfare of the college was con- 
cerned ; his determination to discharge fearlessly the duty 
which lay directly before him ; his habit of asking what 
was right, rather than what seemed, for the time, expe- 
dient ; his keen and ever-abiding sense of personal respon- 
sibility ; his exalted standard of excellence in his chosen 
calling, leading him to be satisfied with nothing short of 
the highest attainable perfection ; his love of exact justice ; 
his scorn of all sham, and of eveiy form of deception ; 
his freedom from anything like pride of opinion ; his ven- 
eration for truth, in reference to every doctrine which he 
discussed, impi'essing a conviction, upon all who heard 
him, of his courage and his candor; the liberal and cath- 
olic spirit with which he approached the consideration 
of every subject ; the strength of his moral convictions 
and the earnestness of his religious faith ; his love for the 
souls of his pupils, and his intense and all-absorbing 

* It is worthy of note, that in Dr. Wayland's copy of the Life 
of Dr. Arnold, — a valued gift from the widow of that distinguished 
instructor, — the following remark of the master of Rugby School 
is underscored. " It is not necessary that this should be a school 
of three hundred, or one hundred, or of fifty boys ; but it is neces- 
sary that it should be a school of Christian gentlemen." 


desire that the young men intrusted to his charge should 
be, not only successful scholars, but consistent Christians, 
— all these qualities found ample exercise and abundant 
illustration from the commencement to the close of his 
administration of the affairs of the univei'sity. 

In this connection we quote the words of one who, as 
an undergraduate, was a beloved pupil, and subsequently, 
as a member of the Faculty, was an intimate and valued 
friend : — * 

" He went to Providence at the age of thirty-one, in 
the prime of his manhood, with an established reputa- 
tion, with a commanding personal presence, and with a 
capacity for work, and a habit of industry, that made 
themselves immediately felt on all with whom he became 
associated. His views of education, its objects and its 
methods, were already settled. He had formed a high 
ideal of what a college ought to be, and of the influence it 
ought to exert ; and though a stranger at Brown, he reso- 
lutely set himself about making it conform to this ideal. 
None but those who witnessed the changes he wrought 
can fully appreciate what he did for the college in its 
standard of scholarship, in the tone of its discipline, in 
the increase of its means of instruction, and in the self- 
sacrificing spirit which he infused alike into its instruct- 
ors and its more immediate guardians. Seldom has the 
head of a college identified himself so fully with all its 
interests and affairs. He built it up anew, and made it 
the honored seat of learning it now is. Its departments 
of instruction were but imperfectly organized, and in 
addition to his own proper work, he taught whatever 
there was no one else to teach.f For several years he 
held the reins of discipline entirely in his own hands, and 
both by day and by night watched over the students with 

* Professor William Gaminell's obituary notice, in the New York 
Examiner and Chronicle. 

t Mrs. Wayland, writing at this time to a sister of her husband, 
says, "Your brother is well, but constantly occupied. Indeed, 
he has too much love of work not to be always busy. He never 
has any leisure, for if others fail in the performance of their duties, 
he supplies the deficiency by additional labor on his own part." 


truly parental care. It was his habit to know every one 
personally ; to become acquainted with tlic character and 
tendencies of each, and thus be able to caution them 
against the first wrong step, which, once taken, is sure 
to cost so much. He seemed to feel responsible for every 
young man intrusted to his care ; and if any one suffered 
a loss of character, he not only felt the greatest pain, 
but almost blained himself. He knew everything that 
was done, and everything that was left undone, in the 
whole college ; and there is, probably, scarcely one, of 
his earlier pupils especially, who cannot recall some word 
of admonition, or some suggestion of encouragement, 
given precisely at the moment of need by the ever-watch- 
ful president. He did not care especially to make the 
college popular, as it is called ; but he labored most 
earnestly to render it a school of thorough discipline and 
of sound education. In striving for this, he displayed an 
ability and de\'otion that awakened universal admiration. 
The benefactors and friends of the institution took new 
courage, and the merchants of Providence, stirred by his 
appeals on the true uses of wealth, began their contribu- 
tions for its advancement. During his presidency, and 
largely through his immediate agency. Manning Hall was 
erected, the library fund was created, and the library 
planted on a new basis ; Rhode Island Hall and the new 
president's house were built, the college grounds were 
enlarged and improved, and the college funds greatly in- 
creased. In all this he was not a mere spectator, but an 
active leader and originator. All his plans, however 
some of them may be regarded in other respects, were 
the fruit of liberal and disinterested views, and of a sin- 
cere desire to promote the best interests of the college, 
and to make it as useful as possible to the community." 

If we seek to ascertain the cause of the early maturity of 
his judgment, and his well-defined ideas of education and 
discipline, we can hardly attach too much importance to the 
friendly relations, which as pupil and instructor, he had 
held to Dr. Nott. To have been on terms of intimacy with 
the president of Union College was of itself an invaluable 
preparation for the work of a teacher. To learn wisdom 
from his marvellous knowledge of human nature, to catch 


inspiration from his electric eloquence, to observe his match- 
less power of personal influence, and his profound sagacity 
in dealing with those committed to his care, was of inesti- 
mable advantage to one called so early in life to assume 
the charge of an institution endeared to the dcnominatior 
under whose auspices it was founded, and already illus- 
trated by honored names. 

Nor should we fail to allude to the influence and ex- 
ample of another instructor. Mention has already been 
made of the sentiments which Dr. Wayland entertained 
for Professor Moses Stuart. 

But, while recognizing, to the fullest extent, the advan- 
tage which the president derived from these sources, jus- 
tice demands that we should allude to that unconscious 
preparation for his duties which depended upon his own 
exertions. His life-long motto, " Whatever is worth doing 
at all, is worth doing well," was the key-note to his suc- 
cess in all the departments of labor to which he addressed 
himself. As tutor and professor in Union College, he had 
been called upon to give instruction in a great variety of 
studies. Cheerfully assuming every responsibility which 
his position imposed upon him, he had endeavored, with 
conscientious fidelity, to qualify himself for the discharge 
of all his duties. 

Not dreaming of the fields of eminent usefulness for 
which he was thus preparing himself, he devoted his time 
to the most thorough preparation for the exercises of the 
recitation-room. As he was in the habit of saying to his 
friends, " Nothing can stand before days' works." He 
avoided every form of social or literary^ dissipation. He 
sought the society of persons older and more experienced 
than himself. He was accustomed, so far as he had the 
opportunity, to observe carefully the effect which the 
expressed opinions of those around him had upon their 
success or failure in life. Writing to a young friend, some 
years after the commencement of his presidency, he gives 


the following advice, borrowed, without doubt, from the 
results of his own experience and observation : — 

" You tell me that you are very much alone in your 
sentiments, both political and religious. This will require 
good sense in order to wise behavior. I think I should 
not arsfue much in the matter. It will make little differ- 
ence in the state of the nation which way the young 
gentlemen of the academy think. I should say but little, 
and think the more. A modest, gentleman-like boy is 
much more of a man than a great ' argufier.' I do not 
suppose that your arguments on either side would be very 
profound. When vou are a few years older, it will be 
time enough to attend to these things. I would not give 
up what 1 believed to be right or true. I would hold to 
my opinions, and let others have theirs. Let them do all 
the talking. Observe the effect which men's opinions 
have upon their conduct. This will do you more good, 
at your present age, than arguing. Always openly avow 
your opinions, and there let the matter rest." 

Again he writes, — 

" Let me urge upon you, if you wish to be respected, 
to be thoroughly master of your studies. I would sit up 
until midnight, rather than not know them. Never think, 
' This will do,' unless it be done as well as you can possi- 
bly do it. You will thus acquire the habit of using your 
faculties to the best advantage, and you will double your 
intellectual power in a single year. The true way to in- 
crease our talents is to employ them to the utmost." 

Those familiar with Dr. Wayland's modes of study 
will not fail to recognize in this last quotation one secret 
of his success. 

And yet with all the self-respect and self-reliance which 
the consciousness of acting from pure motives could not 
but engender, there was a distrust of his fitness and ca- 
pacity to meet the demands of his new position, amounting 
almost to diffidence. This feeling, and his consequent 
dependence upon divine Providence for guidance and 
support, will appear in the following letters, written in 
February, 1827: — 


To his wife : — 

" What an eventful year this has been to both of us ! It 
has seen me a pastor, a father, a professor, and the presi- 
dent of a college. In rapid succession new and important 
duties have devolved upon me, and multiplied interests 
have been confided to my care, which might well teach a 
wiser man to tremble. It is my prayer, and I know that 
it will be yours, that I may become more humble, child- 
like, and dependent, and may act in every situation as is 
meet for a Christian and an heir of heaven. This world 
is all vanity. I feel this more and more. I hope that I 
may learn to love it less, and to be habitually prepared 
for another." 

To his parents he writes, — 

" I need not say that my position here is arduous, 
difficult, and responsible in no ordinary degree. Much 
will be expected of me ; much must be done, or compara- 
tively little good will be accomplished. Had I sought 
the office, or had I not believed that divine Providence 
directed me to it, I should be unhappy, and, I think, dis- 
couraged. I know, however, that God never calls us to 
situations which he will not enable us to fill, if we look 
to him in humble sincerity. In this frame of mind I de- 
sire to go to him for wisdom and guidance. I am aware 
that the best of all qualifications for this or any other sta- 
tion are moral qualifications ; a heart right with God, and 
a spirit prepared and waiting to obey every command and 
trust every promise of the Savior. I desire to recognize 
my reliance upon him for all needed gifts and graces, and 
I make these remarks now, particularl}-, in the hope that 
you will pray for these things in my behalf. I do, indeed, 
feel that they are what I especially require. If I please 
God, I am sure that he will order everything aright. He 
will bless me and make me a blessing. If I do not please 
him, I know that he will confound all my projects, or else 
he will cause even my apparent success to result in my 

To the same : — 

" I am tired of this wandering life, and hoj^e soon to be 
settled in my own house. My prospects here, so far as I 
can discern, are good ; but I dare not promise much." 


Again he writes to his wife (February 23, 1837), — 

"Nothing unfavorable has yet occurred here. God 
only knows how soon it may come, and he only can pre- 
vent it" 

To a friend : — 

" I am worrying along here, doing what I can ; but that 
is very little." 








FOR an impartial estimate of the success of Dr. Way- 
land as an instructor, it may be well to introduce the 
recollections of gentlemen cognizant of the previous con- 
dition of the college, and of the results accomplished 
under the new administration. A member of the class of 
1826,* and a leading scholar of that year, after alluding to 
the various causes which had conspired to lower the in- 
tellectual standard and impair the moral influence of the 
institution, says, — 

" Such were some of the circumstances under which 
President Wayland commenced his official duties at 
Brown University. But unpromising as these circvun- 
stances were in one point of view, they were in another 
aspect quite favorable, if rightly used, for the inaugin'a- 
tion of a nevv^ administration. There was room for great 
improvement, and the friends of the college were ready 
to second every suggestion which seemed adapted to that 
end. The reputation of Dr. Wayland had preceded him. 
His missionary sermon had gained for him a wide ce- 
lebrity, and had prepared the way for a most eflective 

* Hon. John Kingsbury, LL. D., late commissioner of public 
schools for Rhode Island. 


influence in moulding the characters of young men. 
The plans which he adopted and carried into full effect, 
were minute, exact, and thorough. They were, more- 
over, as comprehensive as the limited time and resources 
at the disposal of most of the students would allow. 
Order, discipline, and study took their appropriate place, 
and it was soon found that a new regime had com- 

" The larger part of the pupils not only acquiesced in 
the change, but rejoiced in its beneficial results. There 
are now living men in high positions who ascribe their 
success in life to the influence of President Wayland in 
recalling them from the worse than waste of their time, 
and inciting them to assert their manhood by a diflerent 
course of conduct. The favorable change in college, 
consequent upon President Wayland's induction into 
oftice, was ver}' happily illustrated at prayers in the col- 
lege chapel. Previous to his coming, this occasion had 
been usually selected by students to show their insubordi- 
nation. All this soon passed avvay, and an attentive and 
serious demeanor was manifest. So great was the change, 
that it was not an uncommon thing to answer the inquir}' 
of former gi-aduates in respect to the success of Dr. Way- 
land, by introducing them to chapel at the hour of college 
prayers. No one came away without acknowledging that 
he had received a satisfactory answer." 

Hon. John H. Clifford writes, — 

" You are aware that when Dr. Wayland assumed the 
presidency of the college, my class (1S27) had nearly 
completed its course. We enjoyed, therefore, a smaller 
measure of his invaluable instructions than our successors. 
Yet the single year of our intercourse with him was 
worth more to us than all the previous years of our con- 
nection with the university. 

" He found us, when he came, drifting through the 
most perilous part of the voyage of life without rudder or 
compass, and with a reasonable prospect of making ship- 
wreck of the precious freight with which we were laden. 
The disorganized, almost chaotic state of the college, the 
government a sort oi lociuyi tcjiens^ without authority and 
devoid of discipline, and the undergraduates destitute of 
high aims and aspirations, — all this presented a dismal 


prospect to one who felt, as he did, the full weight of the 
burden he had assumed. Fortunately for us. Dr. Way- 
land was endowed with precisely the qualities to enable 
him successfully to encounter this condition of things, to 
the discouragements of which most men would have suc- 
cumbed in helpless despondency. He took the helm with 
a firm but parental hand, and piloted us safely through 
the perils to which we were exposed. He possessed a 
degree of personal magnetism unsurpassed by any one 
I have ever known. And although an apparent severity 
of discipline was indispensable to a successful administra- 
tion of the duties of his office, the great quality of justice 
v/as so conspicuous in all that he did and in all that he 
said, that we were all in his hands ' like clay in the hands 
of the potter.' It is due to him, under God, that some of 
us were saved from being ' fashioned into vessels of dis- 
honor,' to which, at that time, we seemed to be predes- 
tined. So complete was the moral revolution which he 
effected, that the class of 1827 became at once, from the 
unpromising materials which I have described, most en- 
thusiastic in the support of his policy, and took an 
especial pride in the designation which he gave us of 
' Pioneers of the New System.' 

" Instead of contenting himself with a mere personal 
oversight of the police and economics of the institution, 
he assumed at once, in addition to these sufficiently oner- 
ous duties, the arduous labors of a teacher in the high- 
est departments of science. And here, in the recitation 
and lecture room, his power was unequalled. He entered 
it, as he required the students to enter it, without text- 
books ; his purpose being to instruct his class not merely 
in the contents of the volumes which treated of the science, 
but in the science itself, in the teaching of which he re- 
garded the text-books but as auxiliaries. Indeed, his own 
oral instruction, independent of the accepted treatises in 
use at that period, was so much more copious and ex- 
haustive than the books themselves, that in a few years it 
was elaborated into volumes of higher authority for stu- 
dents, superseding the older text-books upon the same sub- 
jects. It was quickly perceived by us that he was, in 
truth, the ' master,' and far in advance of the books from 
which he taught. This was one great source of the new 
spirit with which he inspired his pupils, namely, that he 


was thoroughly the master of liis subject, and not a mere 
conduit of another man's thoughts. 

" Moral and intellectual philosophy, rhetoric, criticism, 
and political economy v>-ere the departments of-instruction 
to which he addressed himself. To these he required 
the student to apply a rigid system of analysis. This he 
regarded as the great means of intellectual discipline, and 
the only mode of enabling the pupil to acquire the power 
of self-culture. His theory was, that the college curricu- 
lum was not designed primarily to make learned men, but 
to train and invigorate the intellectual powers, and there- 
by prepare the students for their efficient exercise in the 
acquisition of knowledge upon any subject to which he 
might devote himself for the work of life. 

" This brief retrospect of a turning period of my own 
life revives so many associations that are precious to me, 
that I could go on until your patience was wearied with 
my reminiscences of one whose memory I shall never cease 
to love and honor." 

Another member * of the first class that graduated under 
Dr. Wayland contributes the following reminiscences : — 

" The new system introduced by Dr. Wayland was the 
exact antipode of that which it displaced. It was in har- 
mony with the spirit of the age, and yet sufficiently origi- 
nal to be correctly called ' Way land's.' The excitement 
tliroughout the college and the town was great. The 
change was believed by many to be too sudden and too 
radical. As the man addicted to lying was advised to 
speak the truth and discontinue his old habit gradually, 
for fear of too severe a shock to his moral nature, so it 
was thought by some that the prompt abandonment of the 
old routine and the introduction of new measures would 
prove injurious to the interests of the university. 

" The first Senior class that came under his immediate 
charge was charmed with him and with his ' new sys- 
tem.' Any member of the class of 1837 will gladly testify 
that the last year of his college life was worth all the other 
three. Dr. Wayland may have been disturbed by the 
opposition which he encountered in certain quarters, but 
I never detected any outward manifestation of it. He 

* Hon. Charles Thurber. 


quietly pursued the even tenor of his way, and before the 
callow Freshman became the dignified Senior, he thought 
himself much more fortunate than the members of the 
upper classes, in that all his four years were moulded by 
the hand of Wayland. Although, as I have already inti- 
mated, there was some outside opposition to the change 
in the discipline and mode of instruction, I do not believe 
that a single individual was disaffected to the altered con- 
dition of affairs when he saw and understood its actual 

" I am satisfied that no one who candidly examines and 
rightly comprehends what a revolution was effected by 
Dr. Wayland, can fail to be amazed at the wonderful 
executive ability of the thorough and self-sacrificing author 
of such great improvements in college education. Indeed, 
I think Dr. Wayland entered upon the presidency of the 
college at a time when to discharge its duties faithfully 
and efficiently required more nerve and courage and 
greater capacity than had been required at any previous 
period in its history, or perhaps than will be required at 
any time in its future career. 

" The management of the college library had been sin- 
gularly devoid of system, and by no means adapted to the 
wants or conducive to the convenience of students. I do 
not believe that one quarter of the undergraduates derived 
any considerable benefit from it. It was kept in one of 
the projection rooms of University Hall, and was almost 
a terra incognita to many of the students. A member of 
the Junior class once informed me that he had never taken 
a book from the library, and had been in the room but 
once. What Dr. Wayland accomplished for this depart- 
ment of college education is already well known to all 
the friends of the university. 

" Commencement dinners were at this time dinners 
merely. No speeches were made, and graduates lingered 
over the wine, which was always furnished. I need not 
say that all this was soon changed. Again, jDhysical 
training had never been thought of or alluded to. Our 
attention was called to this important department of edu- 
cation immediately after Dr. Way land's induction into 

" Heretofore, members of the Faculty had not been re- 
quired to spend any portion of term time, excepting during 


recitation, within the walls of the university ; but the new 
system made it a sine qua noii that every officer of the 
institution should have a room in college, and be there 
every day during certain prescribed hours. To this was 
added the duty of regularly visiting the rooms of the 

" Theatre-going was prohibited, and a late supper was 
no longer considered a valid excuse for an imperfect prep- 
aration for a recitation. Fixed hours for study became 
the rule rather than the exception, and indeed it was soon 
evident to all, that the requisite preparation for the recita- 
tion-room could not be made without careful and con- 
scientious study. Up to this time we had always been 
accustomed to carry all our text-books with us into recita- 
tion. When we were compelled to leave these behind, 
we were of course deprived of the aid which an occasional 
glance into our books had formerly furnished. And in 
addition to this, that utter stranger to us, an exact analy- 
sis of the lesson, now required, made it a still harder task 
to deceive our instructors and wrong ourselves. Still, 
although all this increased our labors, I am satisfied that 
we were grateful for tlie addition to our burdens." 

Another graduate, who was a pupil of Dr. Wayland 
during the early jxars of his presidency, writes as fol- 
lows : — 

" When President Wayland assumed the charge of 
Brown University, discipline was lax. In fact, the stu- 
dents did pretty much as they pleased. Instruction was 
entirely from text-books. These were used in recitation, 
always by teachers, and often by pupils, and were closely 
followed.* Officers were not required to occupy apart- 
ments in the college buildings, and the rooms of the under- 
graduates were almost never visited by members of the 

* It is related that one of the instructors of this period was accus- 
tomed to have the text-book open before him, and, as the student 
recited, to move his finger along the lines, striving to keep pace 
with the progress of the pupil. From time to time, as the recita- 
tion of the student outstripped the reading of the professor, he 
would look up — keeping his finger at the point which had been 
reached — and say, in a tone of mild reproof, "Not so fast; not 
quite so fast." 

VOL. I. 15 


Faculty. There was no such thing as discussion in the 
class-room ; recitation was only an exercise of the memory. 

" But with the administration of Dr. Wayland all this 
was changed. The non-residence of officers was abol- 
ished. Every instructor was requii'ed to occupy a room 
in the college buildings, and to visit the students every 
day. Strict discipline was enforced, and the idea incul- 
cated that young gentlemen came to college to study, and 
that all other considerations must be subordinated to that 

" The personal example and influence of Dr. Wayland 
at once infused a new spirit into the university. The 
power of a great mind, and the energy of a controlling 
will, were immediately felt. He taught without a text- 
book, encouraged discussion and inquir}', introduced the 
important element of analysis, and imparted a novel in- 
terest to every recitation which he conducted. 

"Improvement in the discipline of the university marked 
a new era in the life of the institution. The president 
spent in the college all the hours appropriated to study, 
and made daily visits to the rooms in his division. It was 
soon understood that a college usage, or tradition, could 
not be pleaded as an excuse for the violation of established 
rules. Raids upon adjacent gardens and poultry-yards 
were no longer tolerated. Disturbances of the quiet and 
order of the college premises were prohibited and pun- 
ished. The students ceased to be a nuisance to the neigh- 
borhood, and began to appreciate the high duties and 
grave res^^onsibilities of their position." 

All these changes and reforms commenced v/ith the 
new administration of affairs. It was evident that Dr. 
Wayland had a distinct and clearly-defined idea of what 
a college should be, and could be made, and he did 
not delay an instant to apply to his theory the test of 

There was no mild and moderate transition from lax 
discipline and unchecked license to strict enforcement of 
law. The reins of government were not loosely held in 
hesitating hands. There was no early adoption of tem- 
porizing expedients, to be succeeded in due tim.e, and 


when the safe moment arrived, by bolder and more vig- 
orous measures. The reform was instant and radical. 
President Wayland had not been in his new office twenty- 
four hours before it was apparent to everybody that a new 
reg'lme was already instituted. 

It cannot be denied that this sudden change in the 
discipline and mode of instruction awakened opposition 
among some of the students ; but it was confined to those 
who, from indolence, indiflerence, or perversity, were in- 
disposed to improve their advantages, and their connection 
with the college was soon dissolved. 

The prevailing feeling was pride in the ability, and 
respect for the zeal and enthusiasm, of the new president. 
The fresh stimulus given to study, and the nev^^ interest 
imparted to the exercises of the recitation-room, were 
most manifest. Especially was this true of the branches in 
which instruction was given by the president. The fact 
that he invited, and even urged, free discussion on all 
subjects germane to the topic under consideration, the 
lively interest which he displayed in the mental improve- 
ment of all his pupils, the wealth of illustration with which 
he enriched his teachings, — all these quickened the in- 
tellects and sharpened the faculties of the student. 

As has already been stated, Dr. Wayland spent in his 
room in the college all the hours assigned for study. It 
should be added, that he rarely left his study before ten 
o'clock P. M. For years he invariably conducted two 
daily recitations, and often more. He frequently supplied 
the place of any officer, who, from sickness, or absence, or 
any cause, was unable to attend to his classes. He gave 
instruction, as it became necessary, from time to time, in 
the ancient languages, in rhetoric and the natural sciences. 
During the Junior and Senior years of 1S29 and 1S30, he 
taught Campbell's Rhetoric, Kames' Elements of Criticism, 
Phjsiology, Stewart's Mental Philosophy, and Paley's 
Moral Science. The exercises of Commencement by the 


graduating class of 1837 were pronounced by the public 
journals of Providence ••' an occasion of unusual interest," 
and the audience was said to be " larger than at any pre- 
vious Commencement." 

The editor of a leading newspaper in New York city, 
writing from Providence at this time, says, — 

" For a number of years past. Brown University has 
seemed to be somewhat on the decline. Its affairs 
languished until last autumn, when, 

* Discipline at length, 
O'erlooked and unemployed, fell sick and died.' 

The consequence was a change in its head, and a speedy 
and thorougfh revolution in its affairs. The course of stud- 
ies prescribed under the new regime was such as to raise 
the requirements of the institution to as high a standard 
as any other ; and a code of laws was formed and adopted 
by the Faculty, which, it is believed, may be considered u 
model for the government of academic institutions. The 
salaries of the acting professors have been increased, and 
the non-resident professors, whose places were little more 
than sinecures, have been dispensed with. 

" Arrangements are also making to add to the studies 
already prescribed, a course of popular instruction in Eng- 
lish and the modern languages of Europe. In fine, 
under the administration of President Wayland and his 
able assistants, it is believed that the reformation has been 
such, that the university will assume a proud rank among 
those of greater age and more richly endowed." 

Additional evidence of the increased prosperity of the 
college, under the new administration, is contained in 
official documents. 

At the annual meeting of the corporation of Brown 
University held September 30, 1829, President Wayland, 
in behalf of the Faculty, presented a report embodying the 
results of their observation and experience as instructors 
during the two preceding years. The report specified the 
studies pursued by each of the classes for the past year, 
alluded to the recent alterations made in the course of 


instruction, described the condition of the several depart- 
ments, and recommended an important change in refer- 
ence to vacations. The president deprecated long vaca- 
tions, as tending to dissipate the mind of the pupil, and as 
interfering materially with the true objects of a college. 
He urged the importance of devoting the winter months 
to study, contending that the design of affording facilities 
to the students to teach school during this portion of the 
year was inconsistent with the duty imposed upon the 
Faculty of devoting to collegiate exercises those months in 
which study could be most profitably pursued. He al- 
luded to the fact that no regular annual appropriation had 
ever been made for the purchase of books for the college 
librar\', and recommended that definite and stated provis- 
ion should be made for this object. He further reported 
that several important branches of instruction, including 
the Evidences of Revelation, and Political Economy, had 
been added to the collegiate course of study, and, gener- 
ally, that every efibrt had been made to give to the pupils 
largely increased educational advantages. 

The whole report furnished abundant evidence that the 
president would be satisfied with nothing less than the 
adoption of such measures as should put the university on 
an equality with the foremost institutions in the land. 

In the report of the Faculty, presented to the corpora- 
tion at its annual meeting in September, 1S30, due promi- 
nence is given to the fact that " the behavior of the young 
gentlemen of the college has been, dui-ing the past year, 
in the highest degree commendable. Very few instances 
requiring the exercise of discipline have occurred." After 
alluding to the manner in which instruction had been 
given in the various departments of learning embraced in 
the college curriculum, the president adverts to the prin- 
ciples which have governed him in the discharge of his 
own duties. 

This part of the report presents so tersely and truth- 


fully liis views as to the mode in which instruction should 
be imparted in the recitation-room, that we make no 
apology for quoting the passage without abridgment. 

" I have endeavored to teach, not any particular book, 
but the science itself of which the text-book has treated. 
I have aimed, so far as I have been able, to determine the 
nature and objects of the science, its elementary princi- 
ples, and the order in v,'bich they should be presented to 
the mind. This knowledge, thus, as I have hoped, sim- 
plified, and more completely analyzed, I have desired 
to communicate to the pupil. The text-book has been 
used to invite and stimulate inquiry, rather than to re- 
press it. 

" In conducting the recitations of my class, I seek to 
inculcate the necessity of the greatest exactitude of knowl- 
edge in all that belongs to definitions and general princi- 
ples. With this in view, I accustom tliem to extem- 
poraneous illustration of every principle of importance. 
\Vhen I differ from the author, 1 give my reasons. I 
endeavor to show where his doctrines are false, or where 
they require to be limited or extended. I encourage free 
discussion on every important subject, either in the lesson, 
or connected with it ; alwaj-s asking my class, after a 
series of remarks, or after a lecture, whether they wish to 
make any inquiries or to urge any objections. Of this 
privilege they always avail themselves ; nor have I, except 
in a very few, and those very trifling instances, seen it 
abused. It has been my desire to render the recitation- 
room attractive, not merely by the communication of 
knowledge, but by exciting inquiry and eliciting talent ; 
by giving exercise to logical acuteness, and refinement to 
moral sentiment. I am aware how imperfect has been 
my success in this important work. I speak rather of 
what I have desired, than of what I have accomplished. 
In connection with this daily course of study, I have ac- 
customed my class to continual review from the beginning 
of the work. In this manner the relation of the princi- 
ples already acquired to those which may hereafter be 
presented, is easily discovered ; and the whole science 
may thus, at any moment, be surveyed in totality as well 
as in detail. I have aimed so to conduct this exercise, 
that a pupil, at any j)eriod of his study, can easily recall, 


from the commencement, the outline of the whole, so far 
as he has proceeded. 

" In addition to the daily discussions of the recitation- 
room, I have delivered a series of lectures on the Ele- 
ments of Political Economy, another on the Principles of 
Rhetoric, several lectures on Intellectual Philosophy, and 
a brief course upon the General Principles of Animal 

It is surely not surprising that such constant and con- 
scientious discharge of duty should have been crowned 
with unequivocal success ; and we feel confident that the 
president was warranted in closing this interesting report 
with these words of good cheer to every friend of the 
university : — 

" I have endeavored to present to the corporation a 
plain and intelligible account of the objects which the 
Faculty have kept in view during the past year, and the 
manner in which they have sought to attain them. With 
gratitude to God, we are enabled to entertain the pleasing 
conviction that our labor has not been in vain. We be- 
lieve that we can discern visible improvement in intellec- 
tual power and mental discipline, since the date of our 
last report, in every class under our charge." 

President Wayland adhered to the mode of imparting 
instruction, just described, until his connection with the 
college terminated. Not long before his death, on a 
thoughtful review of his experience as a teacher, he de- 
liberately recorded his conviction that his system of in- 
struction had been correct in its principles, and senaceable 
to both teacher and pupil. We quote from his reminis- 
cences : — 

" As so long a portion of my life, and that portion in 
which I have been known most widely to the world, has 
been spent in the labor of instruction, it may be well for 
me to record briefly the principles by which I have been 
guided in the discharge of this part of my duty. Very 
much that I have done is, of course, wholly forgotten, and 
I can only refer to those general rules of action which 
occur to me as I endeavor to look back upon the past. 


Many of the events of my life, already alluded to in these 
reminiscences, I have not recalled even so often as once 
in twenty-five years or more. Much that might have 
been of interest has faded from my memory. I have no 
documents to consult, and I may possibly have erred in 
my recollection. I think, however, that I have no reason 
to remember what did not occur, and that, therefore, my 
memory may be considered trustworthy. 

" I may here observe that I have never considered my- 
self, in any manner, peculiarly adapted to the work of an 
instructor. It seemed my duty to undertake the labor, and 
I honestly attempted to discharge that duty as well as I 
knew how. When, however, I compare myself with 
Pestalozzi, Dr. Arnold, and other teachers, who have 
apparently been endowed with every faculty needed for 
their calling, and animated with an intense love for it, I 
am compelled to feel and confess my vast deficiency. If 
this remark shall provoke the inquiry, ' For what, then, 
were you intended ? ' I am really unable to answer it. I 
do not know that I have ever had any special predilection 
for any one pursuit. I had promising prospects as a phy- 
sician, and, when young, was fond of natural science. My 
position as a clergyman was above mediocrity. I laboi'ed 
with some success as an instructor ; but the station upon 
which I have ever looked with peculiar admiration and 
reverence is that of an able and upright judge.* 

" With reference to teaching, I may say, in general 
terms, that my governing principles were few. I sup- 
pose that everything that is to be taught may be resolved 
into certain elementary truths. These are usually simple, 
and if presented in a simple form, may be easily ap- 
prehended by persons of sufficient age and common under- 
standing. I say of sufficient age, for the mind, at successive 
periods of its growth, makes distinct progress in its power 
of comprehending abstract truth. It can be taught merely 
to remember the way in which an idea is expressed, with- 
out any knowledge of the idea itself. To such an extent 

* Writing, in 1856, to his friend Hon. Ellis Lewis, then Chief 
Justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania, Dr. Wajland 
says, " The only position the world could offer me, which I have 
thought I should like, is that of a judge of a court whose decisions 
involved grave questions of right." 


is this true, that I have known a young person to receive 
a truth, which he has not been able heretofore to compre- 
hend, as an entire novelty, when in fact it was the very 
same truth, the expression of which, in words, he had 
committed to memory several years before. 

" But to return : I endeavored always to understand, 
for myself, whatever I attempted to teach. By this I 
mean that I was never satisfied with the text, unless I saw 
for myself, as well as I was able, that tlie text was true. 
Pursuing this course, I was led to observe the principles 
or general truths on which the treatise was founded. As 
I considered these, they readily arranged themselves in a 
natural order of connection and dependence. I do not 
wish to be understood as asserting that I did this with 
every text-book before I began to use it in my class. I 
generally taught these subjects during a single year. 
Before I had thought through one subject, I was called 
upon to commence another. Yet, with every year, I 
made some progress in all. I prepared lectures on par- 
ticular subjects, and thus fixed in my mind the ideas 
which I had acquired, for use during the next year. The 
same process continued year by year, and in this manner, 
almost before I was awai'e of it, I had completed an entire 
course of lectures. In process of time I was thus enabled 
to teach by lecture all the subjects which I began to teach 
from text-books. 

" I have always aimed, as I have already intimated, not 
only to understand a subject for myself, but to make my 
pupils understand it. There need be no difficulty in 
detecting by the expression of a listener's eye whether he 
catches and understands the idea which the instructor 
seeks to communicate. If I saw that what I said was not 
comprehended, I repeated and illustrated until I was 
convinced that I had succeeded. I also caused it to be 
understood that our subject was one in which they and I 
were equally interested. Therefore I not only allowed, 
but encouraged, my pupils to ask questions with reference 
to any portion of the lesson recited, or of the lecture 
delivered. Thev very soon began to avail themselves of 
this privilege. Pursuing this method, our recitations con- 
sisted not merely of the repeating of passages from the 
text-book, or answering questions framed from the text- 
book by the teacher, but were really animated discussions 


on the subjects under consideration. From this course I 
derived great benefit, in common with the class. The 
students were stimulated to a considerable degree by the 
consciousness that they were independent seekers after 
truth. I rarely passed through such a discussion without 
great advantage. Sometimes I was convinced that I had 
been in error. At other times I became satisfied that I 
had presented the idea obscurely, or without proper lim- 
itations or suflicient generalization. It not unfrequently 
happened that when the subject under consideration was 
especially interesting or important, two or three days 
were consumed upon a single lesson. 

" It may be said that this method is liable to abuse. 
This is undoubtedly true : I have seen it abused. Young 
men would now and then ask frivolous questions from 
thoughtlessness. At other times, by collusion among 
themselves, they would ask questions with the design of 
arresting the progress of the recitation, when their friends, 
who were unprepared, were in danger of being exposed. 
This, however, may be easily prevented by an instructor. 
It is only necessary to answer a fool according to his folly, 
in order to make the experiment too dangerous to be re- 

" There were two other modes of giving instruction, to 
which I adhered, which were, in my opinion, of essential 
service to my pupils — they were analysis and review. 
As to the former, our pi'actice was, in all recitations from 
text-books, to accustom the student to make out the anal- 
ysis, skeleton, or plan of the lesson to be recited. He 
was expected to commence, and, without question or 
assistance, to proceed in his recitation as long as might 
be required. The next who was called upon took up the 
passage where his predecessor left it ; and thus it con- 
tinued (except as there was interruption by inquiry or ex- 
planation) until the close. It is, of course, understood 
that the knowledge of the instructor enabled him to cor- 
rect any error, and suggest any deficiency or inaccuracy 
in the analysis. It was also customary to commence the 
recitation by calling on some one to give the entire anal- 
ysis of the lesson. Every one was expected to be able 
to do this, as it was a regular part of the daily exercise. 
This practice, introduced at the beginning of a term, be- 
came very easy before the next vacation ; and to be able 


to give an exact iind distinct analysis of a lesson was 
made a special mark of good scholarship. In general, no 
man could do it well who was not a clear-headed and 
diligent student. 

" The advantages of this mode of study I have supposed 
to be several. Whether a similar plan is adopted in 
other colleges, I have no means of knowing. My first 
experience of it was while in Union College, under Dr. 
Nott. I have obsen^ed that students, coming to Brown 
University from other colleges, have spoken of it as new 
to them. 

" This mode of recitation is of advantage to the in- 
structor. When he conducts an exercise of this kind, and 
such a knov.dedge of the subject is required of the pupil, 
he is compelled, unless he is willing to lose the respect of 
his class, to be himself thoroughly prepared. He must 
(no matter how often he uses the same text-book) take 
pains to qualify himself for every recitation. This will 
impart a deeper interest to the, subject ; vfill, from time to 
time, restore its freshness ; and in this manner, a recita- 
tion, instead of being a bore, will become an agreeable 
and improving exercise. 

" It may be objected that this is imposing unnecessary 
labor upon an instructor. It certainly calls for additional, 
but by no means unnecessary, labor. Without intellec- 
tual exertion, a teacher is in danger of wearing out and 
becoming a mere machine. An indolent teacher will 
soon degenerate into a very stupid man. His pupils will 
discover this, and in almost every class some of his 
students will, by common consent, be considered superior 
to their instructor. Such a change of relations can only 
be prevented by the absolute prohibition of all inquiry. 
This expedient will inevitably render the recitation a dull 
formality, irksome to both parties, until it becomes a con- 
temptible m.ode of spending time under the guise of in- 

" To the student, also, the advantages are no less obvi- 
ous. He is obliged, in preparing in this manner for a 
recitation, to make himself master of each daily lesson. 
More than this, he knows that he has mastered it. He 
can lay aside his book, go through the analysis by him- 
self, and then take ujd and complete the train of thought, 


not usin,2f, with servile exactness, the laniruasre of the an- 
thor, but ni his own words. When called upon to recite 
in the presence of his class, he knows that he understands 
his subject, and soon learns, with confidence, to give ex- 
pression to the ideas of which he has possessed himself. 
Not until he can do this is he prepared for recitation. 
It soon becomes a matter of emulation in a class for a 
student to recite with accuracy, in good language, and in 
such a manner as to interest his fellows. Indeed, I have 
rarely tavight a class which could not furnish two or three 
members whose recitations were listened to with evident 
gratification by all their auditors. 

" The efiect of such an exercise in cultivating ease of 
delivery, and in promoting the power of extemporaneous 
speech, is manifest. He who has thus learned to prepare 
himself on a given subject, and then to express himself in 
the presence of his instructor and his classmates, has laid 
the foundation of success as a public speaker. Nor is this 
all. Let a young man accustom himself to frame a care- 
ful and correct analysis of what he is about to recite, and 
resolve never to speak or compose until this analysis is 
completed, and he will have made decided progress in 
mental discipline. He who has learned never to address 
his fellow-men, either orally or by written language, with- 
out forming a definite plan which shall tend to produce a 
particular efiect, has acquired a most valuable habit. By 
pursuing this course habitually, he will soon be able to 
continue it with scarcely a perceptible effort. In fact, he 
will find it so much easier to use his mind in this way than 
in any other, that he will soon do it spontaneously, even 
while he is commencing an unpremeditated address. In- 
structors in law schools, and lawyers in the preparation 
of their arguments, have frequently referred to this method 
of study as of essential service to them. I have been told 
that a late distinguished professor in the law school at 
Cambridge was accustomed to say that he could at once 
distinguish a graduate of Brown University by the facility 
with which he w^as able to analyze a lecture or a legal 
argument. The power which this practice would natu- 
rally give to a clergyman in constructing a train of thought 
for the pulpit is apparent. 

" Accompanying the habit of analyzing every lesson, 


and making this analysis a distinct feature of the recita- 
tion, was that of frequent review. It was my custom in 
the class-room to require, first of all, the lesson of the 
previous day, whether that consisted of a lecture or a por- 
tion of a text-book. This fixed every lesson in the mind 
of the pupil. As we advanced, I would begin the book, 
and call for the analysis of several portions of what we 
had gone over. When we had overtaken our advance, 
we commenced anew from the beginning. In this manner 
we were enabled to review the whole book frequently 
during the course of a single term, thus strengthening 
materially the habit of generalization. 

" The result of this training was, that all the best 
scholars of a class could, without prompting, go through 
the entire book which they had studied, at the first exami- 
nation. The more moderate scholars would do the same 
with little prompting. No man, however, would make 
any claim to good scholarship who could not readily do 
it. At examinations, the chapters or sections of the text- 
book were written on separate slips of paper, and drawn 
out for every student by lot. The time occupied in ex- 
amining a pupil was allowed to the one who was to follow, 
for the purpose of recollection. An exercise conducted 
in this manner would proceed for three hours, and if the 
class were a good one, a failure would rarely occur. If a 
student were unable to proceed, he was allowed to draw 
again, and thus often recovered his standing. 

" I am satisfied that nothing enabled me to escape the 
danger of mental indolence and stagnation to which I have 
already alluded, but the manner of conducting recitations 
which I have described (in distinction from the more usual 
mode of question and answer), and the habit of lecturing 
from time to time on every portion of the text-book. By 
adhering to these practices I was soon able to form text- 
books for myself, and amidst constant attention to details, 
and the incessant interruptions consequent upon my office, 
to make, year by year, as I hope, some progress. 

" So far as the student is concerned, it can hardly be 
denied that there are manifest advantages in such a mode 
of giving instruction. If the object of the teacher be to 
impart knowledge, and to fix it in the mind of the pupil, 
certainly this object can be more successfully accomplished 


ill this way than in any other. Nothing tends more surely 
to implant knowledge in the mind. If the object be the 
cultivation of the mental powers, by daily eftbrt and by 
comparing the relation of various truths with each other, 
this will be most certainly attained by uniting the view of 
the whole subject with perfectly free discussions in the 
class-room. The object of an education is not, as many 
parents would seem to believe, to get a student through 
college by going over a certain number of books, but to 
impart knowledge which shall be remembered, and to in- 
crease the intellectual capacity of the pupil by habitually 
calling into exercise as many of his powers and faculties 
as the circumstances of the case will permit." 

Many graduates of Brown University have, in subse- 
quent life, borne their testimony to the value of this system 
of instruction. Upon the occasion of Dr. Wayland's resig- 
nation of the presidency, Hon. B. F. Thomas, of the 
Supreme Court of Massachusetts, thus addressed the 
retiring president, in presence and in behalf of his assem- 
bled pupils ; — 

" I rise, Mr. President, for the discharge of a painfiil 
and yet a grateful duty. The alumni of the university, 
having heard of your resignation of the office you have so 
long held with signal honor to yourself and signal advan- 
tage to her, met yesterday to give utterance to the feelings 
which that event awakened. They passed resolutions 
(would they were worthier) expressing their sense of the 
value of your services to the college, and of the loss she had 
sustained by your retirement. They instructed tlieir com- 
mittee (Governor Clifford, of New Bedford, Hon. Mr. Brad- 
ley, of this city, and myself) to present these resolutions to 
you to-day, the last time we shall have the pleasure of 
meeting you in this near and interesting relation. 

" It is but little to say, that these resolutions were passed 
unanimousl}^, — there was but one mind and one heart in 
the assembly, and that mind and heart were but one, - — 
for the calmest result of the judgment w\is in harmony 
with the warmest feelings of the heart. We did not, how- 
ever, forget that we were speaking of and to the living, 
and in avoiding what may be said to be the natural. 


warmth of eulogy, — that, we trust, far distant service to 
come from the trembh'ng Hps of some later pupils, — we 
may have assumed a tone too subdued. 

" One of these resolutions comes from those whose 
privilege it was to have been your immediate pupils. Of 
that resolution, as one of the earlier of those pupils, I will 
say a word. I should be sorry if I thought myself capable 
of making a formal speech in an hour like this. You are, 
Mr. President, too largely my creditor for me to judge 
calmly and wisely. I cannot pay the debt. I do not ask 
you to forgive it. I can and will confess it. More than 
twenty years ago it ripened into a judgment, and yet no 
lapse of time will bar it. Hundreds around you owe the 
like debt. It grows ever. It is an investment for all 
time. If you see in it, as I know you do, the true riches, 
more than the wealth of an Astor is yours. Its bonds are 
stronger than those of the railroad, its pulse is quicker 
than that of the telegraph. It is the tribute of loving 
hearts. It is the debt of iilial gratitude. 

" I came here to-day, Mr. Pi-esident, to say now what I 
have often said at home and to my own pupils, and what 
this seems to me a fitting occasion to say more publicly. 

" It has been my privilege for three years to be your 
pupil. I have seen and have had other eminent masters: 
Joseph Story, whose name is identified with the jurispru- 
dence of his country ; John Hooker Ashmun, who, an 
invalid for years, and dying at the early age of thirty- 
three, as a lawyer left behind him no superior in ^Massa- 
chusetts, whose mind had the point of the diamond and 
the clearness of its waters ; Pliny ?vlerrick, who graces 
the bench on which I have the honor to sit, but of whom 
my near relation to him forbids me to speak as I would. 
A quarter of a century has passed since I left these walls 
with your blessing. I have seen something of men and of 
the world since. I esteem it to-day the happiest event of 
my life that brought me here, the best gift of an ever-kind 
Providence to me, that I was permitted for three years to 
sit at the feet of your instruction. 

'■ Others may speak and think of the writer and scholar, 
my tribute is to the great teacher ; and he is not the great 
teacher who fills the mind of his pupil from the affluence 
of his learning, or works most for him, but who has the 


rarer faculty of drawing out and developing the mind of 
another, and making hiva tvo?'^ yor /ii'msc//". Rarest of 
all God's gifts to men. Great statesmen, great orators, 
great jurists, are successful and useful in the degree that 
they are great teachers. Office of unequalled dignity and 
worth, — even our divine Lord and Master we call the 
' Great Teacher.' 

" Mr. President, if I have acquired any considei'ation in 
my own beloved commonwealth, if I have worthily won 
any honor, I can and do, with a grateful heart, bring them 
to-day and lay them at your feet — Teucro duce et auspice 

Another graduate * has observed, — 

" To those designing to enter the legal profession, his 
instructions were invaluable. This is the uniform testi- 
mony of every one of his graduates who has since dis- 
tinguished himself at the bar. The singular rapidity with 
which he seized upon the strong points of whatever sub- 
ject was under discussion in the class-room, the tenacity 
with which he held all the disputants to the precise issue, 
brushing aside the rubbish of irrelevant and inapposite 
details, and obliging the pupil to deal with the vital princi- 
ples which lay at the foundation of the immediate topic 
under consideration, and, above all, the constant habit of 
exact and exhaustive analysis which he counselled and 
even compelled the pupil to pursue, — all this was an 
admirable preparation for the profitable study and success- 
ful practice of the law." 

It may not be inappropriate to allude, in this connection, 
to the interest which Dr. Wayland always manifested in 
the science of jurisprudence, and his earnest desire that 
those of his pupils who entered upon the legal profession 
should be guided by high-minded and generous views of 
duty. Writing to a young friend and pupil, who had 
recently commenced the practice of the law, he says, — 

" If you are in • the full tide of successful experiment,' you 

* Hon. C. S. Bradley, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of 
Rhode Island. 


must beware that nothing interferes with its legitimate re- 
sult. Prosperity renders weak men careless, and strong 
men more careful. Old Jeremiah Mason was as exact and 
cautious in the height of his reputation as when he was a 
young practitioner. It must be so with every man who 
would arrive at eminence. The higher a lawyer rises, the 
abler are his competitors, and the greater need he has of 
the full exercise of all his powers. Nothing can exceed 
the intensity of mental action necessary to the discharge 
of the duty of an eminent practitioner in Westminster 
Hall. The same is true, imitatls mutandis^ of other 
places. You remember the dialogue between George the 
Third, I think, and the elder Pitt. ' Mr. Pitt, deserve my 
confidence, and you shall have it." ' Sir, give me your 
confidence, and I will deserve it.' The king had the best 
of it. It is so with the public. If a man deserve confi- 
dence, he is sure, sooner or later, to have it." 

To the same : — 

" I am not sorry that you have perplexing cases, for 
thus only can 3-ou learn to manage them. Always seek 
to find the governing principle which underlies them, and 
then every case you determine settles the rule for a class. 
As these rules midtiply, you will discover that the per- 
plexities diminish in number, and soon, what would puz- 
zle another will be easy for you. 

" I am glad that you are applying yourself closely to 
the law, and that you are diversifying it with the classics. 
Read over and over again the best passages, and, if you 
please, commit them to memory. You will soon find 
that such knowledge will place you in a different class 
from those who do not possess it. It will serve, more- 
over, to enlarge your range of illustration, and to give 
energy to your thoughts. This will be vastly more profit- 
able than spending your time in amusement. In the one 
case, you are laying the foundations for future professional 
success ; in the other, you are pulverizing the very stones. 
But, above all, establish rules for study. In no other way 
can you have any just notion of the value of time. If time 
be used miscellaneously, and no task be assigned for every 
day and hour, it w^ill glide away, — no one knows how, — 
and witii no practical result. The only way to eminence 

VOL. I. 16 


is to love labor, or, at the least, to be perfectly willing to 
expend all the labor necessary to accomplish a given ob- 
ject. Besides, we can never govern others until we have 
learned to govern ourselves. 

" I am glad to hear that you are devoting your evenings 
to the law. Every evening's study squares, or helps to 
square, a stone which you may lay aside to put in the 
building whenever a client gives you an invitation, I 
would always keep this idea in mind. Study with an 
object, that is, with a distinct point or principle in view. 
As fast as you settle a principle, pause and frame, or dis- 
cover, a case to which it will apply. Make your notes 
and references, and pass on to another. Thus, day by 
day, you will be able to mark your progress, and to say, 
' I,am prepared to-day on what I did not know yesterday.' 
The real cases will come along in due time, and you will 
discover that you are ready to meet them." 

To another pupil : — 

" Leave nothing to chance. Remember that the small- 
est amount of labor necessary to do anything, is all the 
time and labor necessary to do it well. You may some- 
times find yourself not so thoroughly prepared as you 
could wish, but you ought always to be able to say, ' I 
did all that I could to deserve success.' Always do as 
well as you can, and you will do better every day." 

In the opinion of Dr. Wayland, the high-minded and 
conscientious lawyer has it in his power greatly to pro- 
mote the welfare of civil society. For the low cunning 
of the pettifogger he had an abhorrence which he never 
sought to conceal. He urged upon all his pupils, who 
designed to enter the legal profession, the importance of 
placing before themselves an elevated standard of excel- 
lence, seeking always to establish correct general princi- 
ples, never being satisfied with simply carrying a point, 
but aiming rather to secure a result in harmony with 
sound jurispi'udence. He would say, — 

" Do not accept any recognized doctrine for no better 
reaaofi than that it has the authority of decided cases, nor 


keep in view only the facts of the particular question 
under consideration. This was the weak point of Lord 
Eldon. Examine the precedents carefully, and see if they 
rest on the principles of eternal justice. If you believe 
them to be wrong, labor to refute the fallacious reasoning, 
and contend earnestly for what is right and true. Do 
your work in a manly, straightforward manner, remem- 
bering that your business is not to gain, by any means, 
a victory over an opposing counsel, but to settle the 
matter in dispute in the fear of God and for the good of 
man." * 

Those who were familiar with the favorite studies of 
Dr. Wayland will not need to be reminded that, while 
the biographies of men distinguished in all the depart- 
ments of art, science, and literature, or devoted to practi- 
cal philanthropy, had for him a peculiar charm, he read 
with especial pleasure and profit the recorded lives of 
those great lights of jurisprudence, who, in every age, 
have illustrated their profession, and established impor- 
tant principles in constitutional or municipal law. Not 
only was his acquaintance with the history of English 
jurisprudence exact and thorough, but he readily recalled 
the leading incidents in the career of every eminent Eng- 
lish lawyer, whether his distinction had been earned by 
his decisions from the bench, or by the ability of his argu- 
ments at the bar. He delighted to hold up, for the admi- 
ration and imitation of his pupils, the shining examples 
of Sir Matthew Hale, Lord Hardwicke, Lord Ellenbor- 

* It maj' not be out of place to state, in this connection, an 
incident illustrating his love of justice and his active sympathy 
with the suffering poor. Having been informed, that, in one of 
the inferior courts of Providence, innocent persons arraigned for 
alleged misdemeanors were sometimes convicted and sentenced 
because thej were unable to employ counsel, he conferred with a 
competent lawyer on the subject, and requested him to appear for 
the defendant in any such case that came to his knowledge, prom- 
ising to assume the expense of such professional service. 


ough, Lord Erskine, and Sir Samuel Romilly, Chief 
Justice Marshall, Alexander Hamilton, Jeremiah Mason, 
and Daniel Webster. He was accustomed to point to 
Lord Erskine as the model advocate, and to his reported 
arguments as the finest specimens of forensic reasoning to 
be found in the English language. He had read them 
critically, and analyzed them again and again, and could 
readily quote, from recollection, some of the most eloquent 
passages. From these sources, also, he derived many 
appropriate illustrations and apposite anecdotes, with 
which he diversified and enriched his instructions. 

DR. bailey's reminiscences. 245 





WHAT has already been said, in general terms, of 
the peculiar features of Dr. Wayland's mode of 
teaching, will, after all, fall far short of conveying a cor- 
rect conception of his manner of conducting a recitation 
in the class-room. While those who have enjoyed the 
benefits of his instruction will not need to be reminded 
of the hours so rapid in their passage and so profitable in 
their results, still to others of our readers a brief sketch 
of the president, as he appeared before his classes, may 
not be without interest. We quote from reminiscences 
kindly furnished by Rev, Dr. Silas Bailey, professor of 
Theology in Kalamazoo Theological Seminary, Michigan. 

"In September, 1830, I entered Brown University. I 
am now unable to say whether any one pointed out to me 
the president. There was certainly little need. He was 
then in the thirty-fifth year of his age and the fourth of 
his presidency. His step was elastic, his form erect, and 
his bearing manly and dignified. Altogether he was the 
most perfect man in physical and intellectual development 
that my eyes had ever beheld. Who the president was, 
had no place among the difficult problems which the new- 
comer would be called upon to solve. Indeed, a stranger 
in the college halls, or even in the city, soon discovered 
that he was within the sphere of influence of a profound 
thinker and an earnest man. 

" The student who had been for a year in college 
seemed to the new pupil to have ' Dr. Wayland on the 


brain.' The president was the prolific theme upon which 
all dwelt. This topic once reached, the conversation 
would not flag for an hour. By this means the curiosity 
and expectation of the new-comer were raised to a high 
point, and everything subsequently proved in keeping with 
his first impressions. Having seen the president in the 
college chapel, or in his private room, or in his cap and 
gown proceeding to the First Baptist Church on Com- 
mencement day, and there presiding over the exercises of 
the graduating class, or conferring the degrees, the student 
was prepared to believe that whatever the university might 
lack, it certainly was not without a head. 

" Nor did these impressions abate as he advanced in 
his studies, and came nearer to the president's recitation- 
room. There were, indeed, other instructors in the sev- 
eral departments, whose subsequent career has more than 
justified the expectations then entertained of them. Yet 
all the while there was but one Dr. Wayland. He had 
not even a second. His i-ecitation-room was the goal 
towards which every student turned his eye. As the dis- 
tance lessened, his eagerness increased. When he had at 
last passed through the preliminary years, his joy was full, 
because he would now be under the '• old doctor.' This 
silent influence, this unconscious tuition, was of unspeak- 
able value. Although not directly unfolding any science, 
or evolving any principle, it imparted inspiration. The 
j^resident threw over his pupils the spell of his own genius, 
and many of them still feel the enchantment, although the 
mighty spirit which imparted it has been withdrawn. 

'• At the time to which I refer, his recitation-room was 
on the first floor of the middle hall of Hope College, and 
in the rear of his own study. It had been a dormitory, 
but was afterwards furnished with benches, and what 
served for writing-desks — narrow pine boards upheld 
by pine uprights. We were obliged to use these with 
great care, lest we should be left without any support for 
our papers and our arms, during the severe trials of skill 
in handling our pencils. The entire furniture of the room 
did not exceed ten dollars in value. 

" Entering by a door connecting the recitation-room 
with his study, he was in his chair at the moment, and he 
required the same promptness of each pupil. A second 
or third instance of tardiness was a dangerous experi- 

DR. bailey's reminiscences.. 247 

ment. The form of penalty could never be anticipated. 
Sometimes It was a look not likely to be soon forgotten ; 
sometimes there was a painful pause, if the recitation had 
commenced ; sometimes the delinquent was formally in- 
troduced to the class. 

" All being present, and subsiding instantly into silence, 
the work began. He had no table, but sat with his man- 
uscript for the lecture of the hour resting upon his knee. 
At this period none of his text-books had been published. 
The members of the class, In succession, recited the lecture 
of the preceding day, or perhaps one stIU farther back in 
the series. The recitation proceeded in this quiet manner 
until the lecture or lectures had been i-ecalled to the minds 
of the pupils. Occasionally a question was asked by 
teacher or student, until everything obscure or ambiguous 
had been not only cleared up, but made as definite as lan- 
euasre could render it. At the same time no irrelevant 
discussion was permitted, no argument for the sake of 
argument was encouraged. The class and the instructor 
were there for a definite purpose, and that purpose could 
not be thwarted by any art or subtlety: meanwhile — as 
all his pupils will readily remember — a silver pencil-case 
was passed from end to end between his thumb and fin- 
ger. The compressed lips were moved slightly, but ner- 
vously. The small dark eye, through which, even in re- 
pose, his whole nature spoke, was resting, steadily but 
kindly, upon each student as he rose and recited. 

" This exercise concluded, there was a rustling all 
around the room ; papers were adjusted, and preparation 
made for writing. The president's manuscript was 
opened, and the well-known a-hem was the signal for all 
to be ready, and for the work of the hour to begin. He 
read slowly, and the class copied, each member following 
his own method ; some using short-hand, others abbreviat- 
ing words, or omitting some altogether. All were intent 
to catch the thought, at any rate, and the exact phrase- 
ology. If possible. The lecture was w^rltten out in full by 
the students at their rooms. What one failed to catch, he 
gathered from another, and thus by ' comparing notes ' a 
correct copy was secured. 

" These lectures seemed to us more wonderful than any- 
thing we had ever heard. They carried all the conviction 
of a demonstration. To have believed otherwise would 


have seemed absurd. Some of us at a later day found 
reason to modify the views then received and accepted. 
But at the time the conviction was complete! 

His definitions were clear, simple, and easily remem- 
bered. His analysis of any obscure but important part 
was exhaustive, omitting no essential element. His prog- 
ress through either of his favorite sciences was that of a 
prince through his own dominions. 

" At intervals, not regular in their occurrence, yet sure 
to occur somewhere, he suspended his reading for a few 
minutes, and, waiting for a short time, until each member 
of the class could complete his notes and give his attention, 
he would relate some incident or anecdote strikingly illus- 
trating the point last made. In this department he was 
always most happy. The confirmation imparted to the 
argument was often unexpected, and even irresistible. 
These anecdotes were drawn from any source that offered 
the richest supply ; from history, from romance, from poe- 
try, from common, unrecorded, every-day life. Often they 
were mirthful, sometimes ludicrous. Frequently statistics 
would be given, conclusively verifying the position which 
had been assumed. Illustrations, anecdotes, and statistics 
came at his bidding, and always did capital service. They 
were ' as arrows in the hands of the mighty.' 

" Hands and arms having been rested, the reading was 
resumed, and the lecture advanced to the stroke of the 
bell. It was concluded as promptly as it commenced, 
closing abruptly, even if in the middle of an argument or 
a paragraph. Those were short hours. We wondered 
whither the sixty minutes had flown, and how it was that 
we had taken no note of their flight. Half in doubt of 
the correctness of the bell, we left the recitation-room. 

" Whether in these exercises Dr. Wayland stirred up 
the intellect of his pupils, it was not difficult even for a 
stranger to determine. As they issued from the lecture- 
room, and went by twos and threes to their own apart- 
ments, the subjects which had just been discussed became 
the theme of most earnest conversation. Nor did the 
momentum thus acquired expend itself during the next 
twenty-four hours. The mental machinery was still in 
motion, when, on the following day, the class was again 
summoned to that unpretending room. 

" I have said that on most points the conviction pro- 


diiced was perfect. Yet sometimes an individual, perhaps 
from peculiarity in his mental constitution, perhaps from 
pre-occupancy, did not yield his assent. And sometimes 
nearly the whole class would, in the review or recitation 
of the lecture, express disagreement with the positions 
taken. If (which was seldom the case) the second eflbrt 
of the instructor did not succeed in producing conviction, 
the dissentients were required to present the grounds of 
their dissent in writing. This custom often called out 
papers of marked ability. In one or two instances the 
weight of argument was, in tl-ve judgment of the class, 
with the pupil. The discussion closed with these words : 
' I have given you, young gentlemen, all the light I now 
possess on this subject. If you are not satisfied, I can say 
no more.' We all felt that even a ' drawn battle ' with 
such an antagonist was not a result of which we had any 
reason to be ashamed. 

" I never knew an instructor who was so perfectly mas- 
ter of the subject He handled, or who left the impress of 
his own mind so ineftaceably upon the minds of all suscep- 
tible of receiving it. He was free from all pedantry. His 
movements in the realm of science and thought were quiet 
and unostentatious. His manner was simple and child- 
like. There was no indication of special concern that 
others should assent to his views. Yet the mind that was 
not quickened by contact with his, that did not gird itself 
for more strenuous and elevated endeavors under the in- 
spiration of his presence and teachings, must have been 
hopelessly dull. The recitation-room was his empire, and 
he reigned with imperial dignity." 

Although patient to a proverb of all discussions in the 
recitation-room which promised to benefit the class, or to 
develop, in any degree, their love of truth ; and although 
singularly tolerant of dullness and slowness of compre- 
hension, if there were also any evidence of a sincere desire 
to improve, yet he never encouraged unprofitable debate. 

He seemed, by an almost unerring instinct, to know 
when questions were asked from a desire to save some 
unfaithful classmate from exposing his want of prepara- 
tion, or to afford the inquirer an opportunity for personal 


display. He had also unusual sagacity in detecting the 
prospect of useless discussion, and in such cases never 
hesitated to avoid debate. But the terms in which he 
declined the challenge w-ere often equivalent to an argu- 

A sceptical student, promising himself the pleasure of a 
prolonged controversy, once informed the president that 
he had been unable to discover any internal evidence that 
the Old Testament w^as insjDired. " For instance," said 
he, " take the book of Proverbs. Certainly it needed no 
inspiration to write that portion of the Bible. A man not 
inspired could have done it as well. Indeed, I have often 
thought that I could write as good proverbs myself." 
" Very well, my son, perhaps you can," was the prompt 
reply. " Suppose you make the experiment. Prepare a 
few proverbs, and read them to the class to-morrow. The 
next" It is hardly necessary to add that the attempt to 
rival the wisdom of Solomon came to an abrupt and in- 
glorious termination. 

Again, when asked if " he considered dancing wrong," 
he answered, " Not much time for that sort of thing in 
this world, my son. The next." 

On another occasion, when he had been impressing 
upon his class the importance of avoiding all literature 
which was licentious in its character and demoralizinsf in 
its tendency, and urging his little audience to keep their 
hearts pure and free from all taint of evil thoughts, he was 
met with the inquiry, " Was Dean Swift wrong, then, 
when he said, ' A nice man is a man of nasty ideas'? " 
Looking at his young friend with that pleasant and almost 
quizzical expression of face which all his old pupils so 
well remember, he asked, in return, ' Well, my son, what 
kind of a man was Swift? Is he a very safe guide to fol- 
low in such matters ? " 

At another time he was lecturing on the weight of 
evidence furnished by human testimony. He was illus- 


trating its authority and sufficiency even for the estab- 
Hshment of miracles. A member of the class, not entirely 
satisfied of the correctness of the teaching, suggested a 
practical application of the doctrine: "What would you 
say. Dr. Wayland, if I stated, that, as I was coming up 
College Street, I saw the lamp-post at the corner dance ? " 
" I should ask you where you had been, my son," was the 
quiet reply in the instructor's gravest manner. 

Now and then some undergraduate, who, during the 
first three years of his collegiate course, had acquired a 
high reputation among his associates as a debater in the 
literary societies of the university, would, upon commen- 
cing the studies of the Senior class, boldly enter the lists, 
and invite the president to a verbal encounter. Fluent in 
speech, and not unpractised in the fence of words, the 
ambitious youth would confidently assail the positions of 
his instructor, summoning to his aid all those graces of 
rhetoric and felicities of speech which had so often secured 
for him the admiring applause of his fellows. 

On such occasions, Dr. Wayland would listen patiently, 
frequently with a kindly, but never with a contemptuous 
smile, now and then interrupting the pupil only to say, 
in a tone of encouragement, " Keep to the point, my son, 
keep to the point," until the speaker had concluded. 

He would then, first of all, recall to the recollection of 
the class the exact issue involved in the discussion, relieve 
the subject of all extrinsic considerations, point out the 
fallacies in the argument of his young opponent, and then, 
by apt illustration and natural analogy, seek to enforce 
the central principle on which the whole question hinged. 

In these and all kindred cases, however, he never ar- 
gued for victory, but always for truth. Whenever he 
became satisfied that his own positions were uqsound, he 
was prompt to acknowledge his error. If, in the progress 
of discussion in the class-room, he received, from any 
source, valuable information, or learned important facts 


with which he had been hitherto unacquainted, he never 
failed to manifest his interest and express his gratitude. 
No man was ever more free from pride of opinion, or 
from obstinate adherence to his recorded sentiments. Not 
unfrequently, wliile discussing before his class some topic 
suggested by his own text-books, he would say, " There I 
differ from the author ; " or, " I have come to the conclu- 
sion that the author's views on that point should be modi- 
fied." He constantly regretted that the pressure of his 
daily duties gave him no opportunity to revise his text- 
books, with such altei-ations as experience or reflection, or 
the " discussion of the lecture-room," had suggested. 

From first to last, every one of his pupils was pro- 
foundly convinced that his only object was to arrive at 
truth, and to communicate that truth as simply and as in- 
telligibly as possible. To the successful accomplishment 
of this jDurpose, he cheerfully consecrated all his mental 
powers, and all the earnestness of his moral nature. 

In the preface to the revised edition of the Elements 
of Moral Science, written August 30, 1S65, — his latest 
literary labor, — he says, — 

" In using the following volume as a text-book for many 
years, I have derived great benefit from the free discus- 
sions of the lecture-room. Some of the principles, I 
thought, needed modification, and others might be pre- 
sented in a form inore easy to be undei'stood. As soon, 
therefore, as I was released from the labor of instruction, 
I commenced the work of I'evision of what I had so long 
taught. My progi'ess was arrested by an attack of illness, 
and for two or three years I was obliged to lay it entirely 
aside. With returning health I resumed my labors, and I 
lay the result before the public." 

It was certainly characteristic of his long and laborious 
career as an instructor, that he should have devoted the 
closing months of his life to the revision and improve- 
ment of his earliest text-book. The candid and thorough 
revision of this, the earliest of his text-books, formed 


certainly a fitting conclusion to his life-long labors as a 

Considered as an instructor, perhaps no quality of 
his mind was more striking than its freshness. He 
never repeated himself. He had no traditional anecdotes, 
handed down from class to class, and looked for as certain 
to be related, when, in the stereotyped programme of in- 
struction, the time had arrived for their natural and ap- 
propriate introduction. While the text-books which he 
taught were of necessity the basis of the exercises of the 
recitation-room, the prmciples which those books incul- 
cated were illustrated and enforced by apt analogies bor- 
rowed from every department of science and from the 
whole range of human knowledge. Here he derived 
incalculable benefit from the extent and variety of his 
educational labors before he became president. We have 
seen that he had been called upon to give instruction 
in very many branches of study, and, governed by that 
conscientious view of his duty which was ever the con- 
trolling i^rinciple of his life, he had spared no pains to 
become familiar with the details of ever}^ department 
which was committed to his charge. 

His intellect was essentially progressive. He thought 
nothing beneath his notice which tended to promote the 
welfare, or conduce to the comfort of the race. His gen- 
erous mind received, his rare analytical powers classified, 
and his retentive memory cherished, every important fact 
and principle in ethics, science, literature, or art, which 
came under his observation. And all this wealth of in- 
formation was lavishly expended for the benefit of his 
pupils. He delighted to see them not only industrious, 
but interested in their studies. He never chilled them by 
any formality of manner, nor intimidated them by any 
needless display of personal dignity. While his disci- 
pline was strict, and his authority absolute and undisput- 
ed, he never, for a moment, forgot that his duty as an 


instructor-required him to present truth in its most winning 
and attractive aspect to the minds of his pupils. Keep- 
ing this obligation constantly and conscientiously in view, 
he infused a life and spirit into the all too brief hour de- 
voted to his recitations, which made them the most agreea- 
ble incidents of college experience. 

A marked peculiarity of the teachings of Dr. Wayland 
was his profound conviction of the absolute truth of what 
he taught. He was never satisfied until he had ' thought 
through' every subject within the legitimate scope of his 
instructions. Each principle, so examined and embraced, 
became a part of himself. To quote the words of one of 
his pupils, — 

" I think the most striking feature of Dr. Wayland, as 
an instructor, was his intense and remarkable personality. 
Whatever he taught, he taught not out of books, but out 
of himself. Whatever he derived from books was, as 
the Prayer Book hath it, ' inwardly digested,' and in the 
process made fairly a part of himself, and then enforced 
and impressed upon his pupils, in such a manner, aided 
by his commanding presence, that they never went behind 
him for authorit}', and had no need to do so." 

He had, moreover, in the highest degree, that element 
of character which is indispensable to success in any 
employment — professional enthusiasm. An ardent de- 
sire to develop to the utmost the mental and moral pow- 
ers of the young men intrusted to his care inspired all his 
efforts and stimulated all his energies. His mind was 
ever on the alert to devise means of creating fresh interest 
in the department which he taught. To this object all his 
reading, all his researches in science, all his study of the 
Scriptures, w^ere made tributary. 

Up to tlie last day of his official connection with Brown 
University, his preparation for the exercises of the recita- 
tion-room was as careful and conscientious as when, a 
tutor in Union College, he commenced the work of in- 
struction. For a teacher who neglected his duty, or who 


discharged that duty listlessly or mechanically, he had no 
respect. Indeed, it was his constant endeavor to prevent 
" the customary separation of salary and duty — the grand 
principle which appears to pervade all human institutions, 
and to be the most invincible of all human abuses." The 
desire of making money, as the leading motive for enter- 
ing the profession, excited his stern contempt. He con- 
sidered it disloyal to an exalted calling, and always pre- 
dicted mental bankruptcy as its inevitable result. 

He was very far from believing that teaching had a 
natural or necessary tendency to dwarf the mind of the 
teacher. He maintained, on the contrary, that, if properly 
pursued, it could not fail to expand and ennoble the intel- 
lect, and to quicken into new life and increased activity 
every faculty of the faithful instructor. As early as 1830 
he writes to his sisters, who had just commenced a school 
for young ladies in Saratoga Springs, New York, — 

" It is, I assure you, a noble business. You will find 
that your minds will gain more in one year than they ever 
gained before in five years." 

He urges them, however, not to neglect proper prep- 
aration for their new duties. 

" You will, for the first year, be obliged to devote a great 
deal of time to study. This you will discover to be both 
advantageous and pleasant. You had better divide the 
branches, and each pay particular attention to the depart- 
ment in which you propose to give instruction. It is one 
thing to know a subject as others do, and quite anoth^ 
thing to know it so as to be able to teach it properly. 
The latter requires much patient and original thinking ; 
the former does not." 

His own example, however, furnishes more conclusive 
evidence than can be found in any woi'ds, of the sincerity 
of his convictions on this subject. 

Steady, unflinching earnestness in the work immediate- 
ly before him, was the rule of his life. In a letter to 


a friend, he says, " I have much writing to do, but I 
shall always write to you when I am able, and when I 
can do you any sei'vice. I may not, in every case, be a 
punctual correspondent, but I will always be in earnest." 
Sometimes, in seasons of mental depression, he may have 
doubted if, in devoting himself to the work of instruction, 
he had not mistaken his destiny ; but he never allowed any 
such misgiving to diminish his professional enthusiasm. 
He subordinated all his tastes and inclinations, all the 
energy of his nature, all the well-disciplined faculties of 
his mind, to the one business of fulfilling, to the best of his 
abilitv, the trust reposed in him as the head of Brown 
University. Upon this point his own testimony Vt'ill be 
read with interest. 

" In reviewing that part of my life which has been 
devoted to teaching, I see much that I could wish had 
been othei-wise. That I applied myself to the duties 
which devolved upon me v/ith an honest and earnest pur- 
pose, I think I may without vanity assert. I believe I have 
been generally considered a laborious man. I allowed 
myself no recreation, except physical labor for the pres- 
ervation of my health. My mind was occupied con- 
tinually, either upon the studies which I was called upon 
to teach, or else upon the government of the college, or 
the details relating to its increased efficiency. All my 
reading was directed to the subjects immediately before 
me. From the beginning to the end of the collegiate 
year, whether in term time or in vacation, the interests 
of the college wei^e almost never out of my thoughts. I 
cheerfully undertook any labor by which its welfare might 
be promoted. 

"• Perhaps I eiTed in this respect. Such continued con- 
centration of the mind upon one subject tends to diminish 
its elasticity, and leads to premature mental decay. It 
would, perhaps, have been better if I had allowed myself 
more recreation ; but for this I had no aptitude. And, 
besides, considering myself, more than anybody else, re- 
sponsible for the success of the college, I could not be 
satisfied unless I did everything in my power to promote 
it. Therefore, to be thus ' totus in illis ' became to me a 


sort of necessity. I could not neglect the present for the 
sake of the future. I felt obliged to do what seemed to be 
the duty which pressed upon me for the moment. This 
mental habit rendered my life, to a considerable extent, 
fragmentary, by reason of frequent interruption. Whether 
I should have succeeded better with another view of duty, 
I cannot now determine. Considering the condition of 
the college at the time, I do not see how I could have 
taken a different course." 

Undoubtedly a wider range of studies would have grati- 
fied his eager thirst for knowledge. Certainly a greater 
indulgence in social recreation would have lightened his 
labors, and given increased elasticity to his often over- 
tasked mind. Travelling, and the familiarity with men 
and their modes of life, which the frequent traveller 
can hardly help acquiring, might have given him more 
ease of manner, and made him more accessible to his 
casual acquaintances. But all this was inconsistent with 
his stern views of duty. Whenever a conflict arose be- 
tween desire and obligation, he never asked himself, 
"What will be agreeable?" but rather, "What will 
be right?" In eveiy instance self was left out of the 

Thus, in the fall of 1834, when many of his friends 
urged him to visit Europe for the benefit of his health, 
and as a change which he very much needed, he writes to 
a relative, — 

" Since you left there has been more talk about my 
going to Europe. It seems to strike those who have 
spoken of it, more favorably than I had anticipated. I 
am rather more disposed than before to think of it seri- 
ously. If I am ever to go, now is the time ; and probably 
such an opportunity will never occur again. I am en- 
deavoring to collect facts and materials for forming an 
opinion. I pray that God may direct the decision accord- 
ing to his will." 

Further reflection, however, satisfying him that it was 

his duty to remain at his post, the project was abandoned. 
VOL. I. 17 


In fact, to deny himself for the good of others, and for the 
benefit of the cause in which all his energies were enlisted, 
had become so completely the habit of his life, that any 
personal sacrifice demanded of him was made without 
apparent efibrt. He recognized no other rule of action. 
A serious estimate of his accountability to God and to his 
fellow-men for the full and faithful exercise of all the 
faculties with which his Creator had endowed him, was 
the standard by which he tested every question of personal 







IN his relations to the college, as everywhere, con- 
scientious devotion to duty was the key-note to all his 
conduct. He could be satisfied with nothing less than the 
consecration of all his powers to the profession which he 
had chosen as his life-work. 

A keen sense of the resjDonsibility which he had as- 
sumed in undertaking the mental and moral training of 
the pupils committed to his care, was never for a moment 
absent from his mind. He looked upon them, not as so 
many young men whose names would appear on the 
catalogue, and whose bills for tuition would be duly col- 
lected during a period of four years, but as immortal 
beings, whose usefulness in life, and whose eternal welfare, 
must be materially aflected by their connection with the 
institution over which he presided. He recognized in 
every young man who entered the university a new trust 
imposed upon him, and held himself personally account- 
able to the student, to his parents, and to his God, for the 
faithful fulfilment of so serious an oblicration. This abid- 
ing conviction of personal responsibility continued, in 
unabated force, to the close of his official connection with 
the university. In 1S44 he writes to a friend, — 

" . . .1 thank you for your cautions. I should be 
very glad to obey their pointings if I knew how to do it. 


It is not really that I do hard labor, but that my situation 
allows of no relaxation, and is one of invariable responsi- 
bility. Were I my own man, with power to arrange my 
time for myself, and to throw off care at intervals, or so 
that I could have a day in a week, or a week or two every 
three months, I could do twice what I do, and be as 
elastic as need be. But these alleviations do not belongf 
to the lot which has fallen to my share. The harness is 
buckled on, and I cannot get it off without quitting the 
service. If I find that I have not the health to go through 
v/ith it, I shall quit it, and leave it to some better dray- 
horse. You may think me dull or discontented. I trust 
that this is not the case. But I have seen much of college 
life. I knew the peculiar position and its necessities. I 
do not believe that this calling can be made to succeed 
unless some one does as I do, if he have not much more 
talent than I have. I am constituted, perhaps, peculiarly. 
Official resj)onsibility presses steadily, I do not say heavily, 
upon me. To see a thing go wrong for which I am respon- 
sible, without doing everything in my power to set it right, 
is impossible. It is against my nature. It is not obsti- 
nacy ; it is not ambition, but a dogged feeling of duty, 
that I cannot get rid of. So much for my position. I 
think it not improbable that I shall leave it, should my 
life be spared a few years longer. But of this I need not 
predict. I have generally seen that when Providence 
has placed a man in any situation, and designs him to 
leave it, there are two kinds of indications — the first, that 
his work there is done ; and the second, that there is work 
for him to do somewhere else. Since I have been here, 
the first has been given several times, but not, as I have 
thought, the latter. It may be that the latter will be given 
here. But I am ashamed of prosing to you, at this rate, 
about my affairs. 

He fully sympathized with Dr. Arnold as to the indi- 
vidual accountability of an instructor, and especially 
approved, and frequently commended, these sentiments 
of the master of Rugby School : — 

" It is a most touching thing to me to receive a new boy 
from his father, when I think what an influence there is 
in this place for evil as well as for good. I do not know 


anything which affects me more. If I could ever receive 
a fresh boy from his father without emotion, I should 
think it high time to be off." 

The discipline of an instructor holding such opinions, 
and binding himself to so severe a standard of duty, could 
not fail to be always thorough, and often severe. While 
he did not probably expect of his pupils undeviating 
obedience to every college regulation, he was particularly 
careful to watch their moral tendencies. If they were 
frank, candid, and outspoken, he was slow to censure and 
prompt to pardon. Confession of wrong doing, and an 
evident desire to amend, gave him an opportunity, which 
he gladly embraced, to forgive the offender, and to set 
before him the moral consequences of his misconduct. 
He appreciated the evil results of defective training in 
early life, and was ever ready to make due allowance for 
errors in home education. At the same time, while the 
natural kindness of his heai"t always inclined him to 
mercy, he never forgot the importance of maintaining 
those general principles of discipline which are essential 
to the wise administration of college government. 

As the views of Dr. Wayland, in regard to discipline, 
were in some respects, perhaps, peculiar to himself, and 
certainly had a marked effect in giving character and in- 
dividuality to the college, we quote, on this point, from 
his reminiscences.* 

" With respect to the discipline of a college, it is, per- 
haps, proper that I should give my experience. I may 
say that my views on this subject are very simple. So 
far as I know, it has been generally supposed that the 
head of a college can only succeed by understanding the 
peculiar temperament, habits, disposition, &c., of every 
pupil, and, on the basis of this knowledge, making out a 
distinct mode of treatment for each undergraduate. In 

* The reader should bear in mind that the reminiscences from 
which the following extract is made, were written for his sons, 
and not for publication. 


Strict accordance with this theory, parents without num- 
ber, when entering their sons in college, have come to 
me, and at great length have informed me of the pecu- 
liarities of their children, stating that their dispositions 
were excellent if they were only governed in some par- 
ticular manner. I always listened with due attention to 
such statements, but paid to them no regard whatever. 
Indeed, I very soon learned that these peculiar young 
men were in fact, in almost every case, spoiled children, 
with whom I was likely to have more than the usual 
amount of trouble. 

" It seemed to me that such a view of the proper method 
of governing a public institution for instruction would 
gi-eatly impair, if it did not entirely destroy, the value of 
any college in which it should prevail. If it were the 
business of instructors to study the character of every 
pupil, and in each instance to modify the course of dis- 
cipline to suit the peculiarities of every individual, sound 
judgment would, from the very nature of the case, be 
impossible. A college would then fail in one of its 
most important designs, namely, as an intermediate place 
between the family and society, to prepare the student 
for entrance upon the practical duties of life, I came, 
therefore, to the conclusion, that the laws of a college 
should be simple, just, kind, and of such a character that 
they could be sliown to be right and salutary, both to 
parents and pupils. These laws, having been established, 
were to be rigidly observed, and, by making every young 
man feel that he must be accountable for his own actions, 
prepare him for becoming a member of society, where 
this rule is to be enforced under more severe penalties. 
The more peculiar a young man is, and the more his 
peculiarities have been suffered to gain strength, the more 
important it is that he should be subjected to the same 
restraints as his fellows, without making any allowance 
for his eccentricities. If a young man be rude, arrogant, 
passionate, untruthful, indolent, unpunctual, it is far better, 
after one admonition, that no allowance whatever be made 
for these evil habits, than that they should ripen into con- 
firmed biases, which a whole lifetime might be insufficient 
to correct, 

" It was therefore my aim to have no laws which could 
not be shown to be perfectly reasonable, and then to ex- 


ecute those laws with all possible strictness and imparti- 
ality. Of course, in saying this I assume that it will be 
understood that the government of impulsive, thoughtless 
young men is different from the government of adults. It 
must, of necessity, be kind, conciliatory, persuasive, or, in 
a word, parental. Penalty must be visited only after other 
means of restraint and correction have been tried in vain. 
But it must be distinctly understood that when these have 
proved ineffectual, punishment will inevitably come, and 
come on all alike, without the shadow of partiality. 

" In the government of a college, every case becomes a 
precedent ; and if the precedent be a bad one, it will never 
be forgotten, but will be pleaded without fail, as though 
it established a law. I always, therefore, considered it a 
matter of prime importance to decide every new case cor- 
rectly. It was my habit to take time for deliberation, to 
examine each case in all its bearings, and to see what 
would be the result of a decision if generally adopted as a 
rule. I endeavored to ascertain the principles on which a 
decision should be founded. I appreciated the fact that 
a case settled on ti'ue principles would harmonize with 
every other case that might subsequently occur, whether 
nearly or remotely connected with the one before me. 
The laws of college, and the results of violating them, 
became thus perfectly well known. When thp younger 
students were disposed to combine in perpetrating some 
violation of law, their seniors would tell them distinctly 
what would be the inevitable consequence, and their pre- 
dictions rarely failed of fulfilment. The principles which 
governed in such cases were well understood, and it was 
known that by these principles all cases of discipline were 
to be decided. 

" I know that all this seems easy to be understood and 
easy to be accomplished ; and yet it is not exactly so. 
What needs to be done may be readily perceived. But 
w hen the doing it may destroy the prospects of a young 
man, and scatter to the winds the long-cherished hopes of 
parents, that measure of discipline, which one knows to be 
right and unavoidable, is attended with the severest pain. 
I never attempted an important case of discipline without 
great mental distress. I took every means possible to 
escape it, and to maintain the government without harm- 
ing the young men. When, however, all other means 



had been tried, and action became necessary, I nerved 
myself to the work. From that moment all the distress 
was over, and I went through it so coolly, that I believe 
I acquired the reputation of being a stern, unfeeling dis- 
ciplinarian, who was determined to carry out college regu- 
lations regardless of the pain which he caused. In this 
respect I suppose I must be classed among those unfortu- 
nate men who think themselves misunderstood. 

" My notions of college discipline differed, I believe, in 
another particular, from the general opinion of my time. 
It w^as formerly supposed — and to a considerable extent 
the opinion continues to be entertained — that an under- 
ofraduate is amenable to no other laws than those of his 
college. He may do what he pleases ; he may violate, 
almost at pleasure, the laws of society, and yet be liable to 
no other punishment than college censure. I have known 
college officers to take very great pains to shield students 
from the consequences of their violation of municipal 
regulations. My view of the matter was the reverse of 
all this. For simple infraction of the rules of academic 
society, college censure is the suitable and appropriate 
punishment. For violation of the laws of the community, 
the penalties which society has decreed in such cases are 
as justly to be awarded to the student as to any other 
young man. His connection with the college should 
afford the wrong-doer no sort of protection. The sooner 
a student discovers that he is amenable to the laws of 
society, like any other citizen, the better it will be for him. 

" It always seemed to me absurd that two brothers, 
entering together upon their preparatory life, the one 
choosing the course of active life, the other devoting him- 
self to intellectual and moral cultivation, should speedily 
find themselves under systems of law so opposite in their 
nature. If the former breaks his neighbor's windows, or 
steals his fruit, or disturbs his peace, he is arrested, 
and held accountable to repair the damage he has done. 
The other may commit any or all of these offences, and 
only be thought to have played a 'college trick,' which 
will be winked at by the community, while the officers of 
his college are considered as bound to stand between him 
and the deserved penalty. If I am not mistaken. President 
Qiiincy, of Harvard, was the first man vs'ho i-eversed the 
process. He taught the students under him that they 


were responsible, in all respects, to the laws of JMas- 
sachusetts. President Felton, as I am told, has pursued a 
similar course. Both of these gentlemen, however, for 
doing what was plainly right, were subjected to consider- 
able animadversion. 

" I recall two cases in which I was compelled to call 
upon the civil authorities. On one occasion two students 
had i-obbcd the philosophical cabinet of several valuable 
instruments. I caused a warrant to be issued for their 
apprehension, but gave them time to leave the state. The 
other case was of one student drawing a pistol on another. 
Here also the olTender was suflered to escape. The prin- 
ciple, however, was established, and this answered my 

While the discipline of Dr. Wayland may have seemed 
to many of the undergraduates strict, and even at times 
severe, they rarely failed, before the close of their col- 
legiate course, to appreciate the moral elevation of his mo- 
tives, and the soundness of his principles of government. 

In fact, his dignity of manner, the purity of his moral 
character, his unremitting industry, his intense earnest- 
ness, his independence of thought, his professional en- 
thusiasm, his exact and impartial justice, his enlarged and 
progressive views of college education, his freedom from 
narrow and sectarian prejudices in " religious concern- 
ments," and his loyalty to truth, could but secure the re- 
spect and command the confidence of his pupils. 

They saw that he exacted nothing of them to which he 
did not cheerfully conform. If he insisted upon punctu- 
ality, he set the example of never being behind time, with- 
out an excuse, the justice of which commanded universal 
assent. If he urged the importance of fixed hours of 
study, they knew that he was governed by the same rules 
which he applied to them. If he cautioned them against 
frivolous amusements, and every species of mental and 
moral dissipation, they felt that his advice was consci- 
entiously given, and was enforced by his own constant 


In a word, it was impossible to escape the contagion of 
his example, and the move closely the undergraduates 
were brought into contact with the president, the more 
profound was their respect for his character, and the higher 
their appreciation of his ability. 

Yet this was not all. With the better class of pupils he 
not only inspired sincere reverence, but he created strong 
attachments. It has been truly said of him, " There was 
so much kindness in his stern justice, so much that was 
generous and noble in his severity, that the students 
generally loved him as much as they respected him." 

Indeed, such sincere, exclusive, and self-sacrificing de- 
votion to duty, was peculiarly fitted to touch the feelings 
and enlist the sympathies of all right-minded young men. 
While the members of the younger classes may have been 
sometimes deterred from approaching him from a natural 
awe inspired by his ]3resence, and a traditional fear of 
entering his study, every feeling of this kind was quickly 
dissipated, when, in the Senior year, they became in a 
more exact sense his pupils. 

We quote once more from the interesting reminiscences 
of Mr. Kingsbury : — 

" I have had in my Bible class about two hundred and 
fifty young men connected with Brown University, most 
of them, of course, undergraduates during his presidency. 
They often visited me to converse about matters concerning 
their relations to the college. I invariably observed that 
they entered the institution with a good degree of awe of 
Dr. Wayland. But when they had once come under his 
immediate instruction, their uniform testimony was, that 
there was no other member of the Faculty in whose pres- 
ence they felt so free from constraint." 

They then learned to appreciate the degree of his interest 
in their individual welfare, and his absorbing anxiety that 
they should be not merely proficient in their studies, and 
correct in their external deportment, but qualified to be 
valuable members of society, and, above all, Christian 


young gentlemen. ISIany a wayward pupil, reclaimed 
from vicious courses by the untiring etTorts of Dr. Way- 
land, will bear cheerful testimony to the timely admoni- 
tions and the kindly counsels of his revered instructor. 
He will recall, not without emotion, the tender and touch- 
ing appeals drawn from a father's anxiety and a mother's 
love, the serious enforcement of moral obligation, the 
constant reference to the teachings of Christ as the only 
infallible guide to duty and criterion of conduct. 
In the words of Dr. Bailey, — 

" Often, when an undergraduate entered the doctor's 
study, he was invited to be seated. Then followed a con- 
versation of great tenderness, rich in gospel truth, and 
prolific in motives, urging him to the salvation of his soul. 
He was entreated to read his Bible daily : he was shown 
its treasures, and its influence upon his character and his 
destiny. He was called upon to consider his standing in 
the sight of God. He was affectionately urged to suffer 
no delay ; to peril no longer interests so momentous, but 
to commence at once a life of piety. The interview was 
closed with prayer — a prayer so humble, sincere, and 
affectionate, that the young man felt convinced, as he rose 
from his knees, that at least one soul, second to none in 
greatness, believed his moral danger to be real and immi- 
nent, and yearned for his salvation. 

" These personal interviews were never regarded as 
of secondary importance. In all conditions of religious 
feeling, amid the most engrossing academic labors, they 
were not forgotten or neglected. While they did not 
always result in the speedy conversion of the pupils, the 
impression (I speak here from personal experience) was 
ineffaceable. They led to the Bible and the closet, hedged 
up the path of scepticism, and frequently produced ulti- 
mate consecration to Christ. Many a man, now sending 
God and his fellow-men in a Christian life, was first 
arrested in his coui^se of selfish ambition, and turned to 
God by these seemingly accidental interviews. Many a 
young Christian, weary, faint, and despondent, has been 
reinvigorated in his faith and purpose, by words spoken 
in the retirement of the president's study. ]Many a young 
man, doubting and hesitating in respect to his duty, has 


been rendered resolute in his determination to live for 
Christ, by the timely counsel of those lips, now silent in 
death. Whoever else was indifferent, the president never 
was. Whoever else was careless in respect to the wants 
of Zion, there was one who did not cease to labor and 
plead for her, and who might at all times truly say, ' I 
prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy.'" 

The following extract is from the Congregationalist : — 

" I was a free-thinker ; read Rousseau and Lord Byron, 
and believed in them. Religion I judged of by the long 
stereotyped prayers and ascetic looks of some ill-bred 
Christians. I hated Orthodoxy as I saw it from the 
stand-point I had, in my proud imagination, taken. In 
this mental status I took my seat in the lecture-room 
of Dr. Wayland. He was then discussing the powers 
and functions of ' the moral sense.' His course of argu- 
mentation was so keen and clear that I soon began to 
listen. I began to question, to argue, to present objec- 
tions in order to drive him from his position. It was 
like damming up the waters of the Nile with bulrushes. 
His logic, unfolded in his perspicuous, yet laconic style, 
quite overwhelmed, confounded me. I saw that I was a 
miserable sinner in the sight of an offended God. 

" I went to my room to pray ; my knees were stubborn ; 
the load upon my heart was crushing me. What must I 
do to escape the wrath of the Almighty? Hope seemed 
to have taken its everlasting flight. 

" I arose and went into the presence of Dr. Wayland. 
He was in his study, reading his old, well-worn copy of 
the sacred word. He received me kindly, and I at once 
made known to him the anguish of my soul. I felt and 
said, ' My sins are so great and so many that God cannot 
pardon me.' 

" Fixing his keen black eyes, beaming with tenderness, 
on me, this good man said, — and never till my dying day 
can I forget the earnest solemnity, the eloquence of the 
tone, — ' When he was yet a great way oft", his father saw 
him, and had compassion on him, and ran, and fell on his 
neck, and kissed him.' I felt that the case was mine, and 
Hope, reviving Hope, came to me. Dr. Wayland then 
knelt down and prayed with me and for me ; and on leav- 
ing hiin, he lent me his well-thumbed copy of Bishop 


Wilson's Sacra Privata, advising- me to read that, and 
the Life of Brainerd, instead of Byron, 

' And if I met with trials and troubles on the way, 
To cast myself on Jesus, and not forget to praj'.' 

I never knew till then the full meaning of that great Eng- 
lish \\OX(\ friendliness. I never before knew Jesus Christ." 

But in addition to the moral power of personal inter- 
course with his pupils, and the facilities furnished by the 
daily meetings of his class in the recitation-room, Dr. 
Wayland did not overlook the somewhat wider field 
afforded by the regular morning and evening religious 
exercises of the college chapel. It was his habit, when 
the students were thus assembled, at the conclusion of the 
reading of the Scriptures and the subsequent prayer, to 
address the undergraduates upon any matter of college 
discipline which had recently occurred. On such occa- 
sions he always sought to refer the case of misconduct 
under consideration to some general principle, and to 
impress upon his youthful audience some salutary lesson 
suggested by the moral bearings of the misdemeanor. 

A member of the class of 1S33* has kindly contributed 
the following reminiscence in illustration of this sub- 
ject : — 

" I remember on one occasion, after some of the neigh- 
bors had been despoiled of their turkeys, that the doctor 
addressed the students on the subject, after evening prayers, 
substantially as follows : Undoubtedly 3'ou will say that 
this approjoriation of turkeys which did not belong to 
you is a venial offence. I believe you call it 'hooking' 
turkeys, as the idea of ' stealing ' turkeys would be offen- 
sive. But, young gentlemen, I beg you to bear one thing 
in mind. Those of you who have thus ' hooked ' turkeys 
have taken the property of another, without right, and in 
violation of law. I do not say that those who have been 
guilty of this offence may not hereafter become good citi- 
zens and worthy members of society ; but I do say, that 

* Hon. H. B. Anthony, United States Senator from Rhode Island. 


there is a decided difFerence between the man who has 
committed such a misdemeanor and. the man who has 
not ; and that the fact of the wrong-doing can never be 
undone nor recalled. It is not wise or safe to tamper 
thus with our moral nature, and to lose sight, even for 
a moment, of the distinction between right and wrong. 
The extent of the injury which you may be inflicting on 
yourselves by persisting in such a course of conduct is 
beyond your power to estimate. I implore you not to 
trifle with your moral sense. Do not, I pray you, dull 
the edge of your conscience." 

From another eminent alumnus of Brown University 
we learn that 

" Dr. Wayland had rare power in referring (in his fre- 
quent addresses to the students after evening prayers) 
every incident relating to college discipline and the general 
subject of university education to some general principle, 
the importance of which upon the character and future 
career of the undergraduates he always enforced by appo- 
site illustrations and telling appeals." 

We quote from the address of Professor Chace : — 

" Another means employed by President Wayland for 
awakening impulse, and correcting, guiding, and elevat- 
ing public sentiment in college, was addresses from the 
platform in the chapel. These were most frequent and 
most characteristic in the earlier days of his presidency. 
They occurred, usually, immediately after evening prayers, 
and took the place of the undergraduate speaking, which 
at that time formed a part of the daily college programme. 
The occasions whiah called them forth were some irregu- 
larity, or incident, or event which seemed to render proper 
the application of the moral lever to raise the standard of 
scholarship or character. We all knew very well when 
to expect them. 

" As the students then, with few exceptions, lived within 
the college buildings, and took their meals in Commons 
Hall, they constituted, much more than at present, a com- 
munity by themselves. They were more readily sv/ayed 
by common impulses, and more susceptible of common 
emotions. When gathered in the chapel, they formed a 


unique, but remarkably homogeneous, audience. Presi- 
dent Wayland was at that time at the very cuhnination of 
his powers, both ph3'sical and intellectual. His massive 
and stalwart frame, not yet filled and rounded by the 
accretions of later years, his strongly-marked features 
having still the sharp outlines and severe grace of their 
first chiselling, his peerless eye sending from beneath that 
Olympian brow its lordly or its penetrating glances, he 
seemed, as he stood on the stage in that old chapel, the 
incarnation of majesty and power. He was raised a few 
feet above his audience, and so near to them that those 
most remote could see the play of every feature. He 
commenced speaking. It was not instruction ; it was not 
argument; it was not exhortation. It was a mixture of 
wit and humor, of ridicule, sarcasm, pathos, and fun, 
of passionate remonstrance, earnest aj^peal, and solemn 
warning, poured forth, not at random, but with a knowl- 
edge of the laws of emotion to which Lord Kames himself 
could have added nothing. The effect was indescribable. 
No Athenian audience ever hung more tumultuously on the 
lips of the divine Demosthenes. That little chapel heaved 
and swelled with the intensity of its pent-up forces. The 
billows of passion rose and fell like the waves of a tem- 
pestuous sea. At one moment all were burning with 
indignation ; the next they were melted to tears. Now 
every one was convulsed with laughter, and now as solemn 
as if the revelations of doom were just opening upon him. 
Emotions the most diverse followed one another in quick 
succession. Admiration, resentment, awe, and worship 
in turn swelled every bosom. At length the storm spent 
itself. The sky cleared, and the sun shone out with in- 
creased brightness. The ground had been softened and 
fertilized, and the whole air purified." 

Any sketch of Dr. Wayland as a teacher of young men 
and the head of a college would be imperfect, if it did not 
describe somewhat in detail his manner of conducting re- 
ligious exercises in the college chapel. It was a manner 
peculiarly his own, and as much a part of himself as 
any feature of the daily life of Brown University, with 
which his memory is associated. In the words of Dr. 
Bailey, — 


" In the chapel sei-vice he was always brief. Part of a 
chapter was read, and the morning prayer was in the 
spirit of the passage selected. If it related to the attri- 
butes and perfections of God, the prayer was a humble 
expression of adoration. If it described man as degraded 
and ruined, the prayer was a penitential confession of 
weakness and guilt, and an earnest petition for divine 
assistance. He had a moral sensitiveness which readily 
responded to any phase of truth which the lesson of the 
hour presented. 

" In the evening we generally went from the lecture- 
room to the chapel. The prayer at this time was often 
suggested, not by the selected Scripture, but by some form 
of moral truth which had occupied our attention dm-ing 
the preceding hour. Perhaps it was a thanksgiving to 
God for rich revelations of science, or for the increase of 
happiness which these great general truths had brought to 
our sinful, suffering race, or a fervent supplication that by 
thoroughly understanding them we might be fully pre- 
pared for the work of life before us. I was not at that 
time a Christian, but I was often deeply impressed with 
the influence which Christian faith had over him in every- 
thing which he thought or did. 

•' While a student, and v/holly inexperienced in respect 
to the difficulties of this religious exercise, I was frequently 
struck with the prayers of President Wayland ; with the 
absence of repetition, with their variety and richness. And 
when called to a similar service for more than twenty 
years, what was before only striking has seemed to 
me truly wonderful. The appropriateness impressed me 
strongly at the time ; but subsequently I found occasion to 
recall what I could, and to inquire, for my own benefit, 
upon what the success depended, and how the requisite 
interest was maintained. I soon became convinced that it 
was not a matter of mere accident, nor was it left to the 
feeling or impulse of the moment. 

" I do not mean to say that the public devotions of the 
late president were faultless. His attitude was frequently 
careless. There was also, at the time of which I speak, 
too much brevity. Perhaps this apparent brevity was 
owing to a conscientious apprehension that time might be 
expended in prayer, which ought to be devoted to study, or 
that some who were required to be present might be 


wearied. Yet for all this, I have heard few men, perhaps 
none, whose public devotions presented so little to which 
impartial criticism could object. His conceptions of Deity 
seemed to me vast, his reverence profound, his love filial 
and deep as his own great moral nature admitted. Evi- 
dently he approached the throne of God with an av^e such 
as I imagine angels and glorified spirits must feci. Some- 
times he offered adoration and praise in language so 
exalted that it seemed inspired by a rapt vision of the 
Holy One. 

" But when his own moral nature, and its deep, press- 
ing wants, were the burden of his prayer, there was visible 
a humble and patient feeling, absorbing and subduing. 
His whole soul seemed pervaded with a sense of the ex- 
ceeding sinfulness of sin. He lamented the stains of 
guilt, and sought relief alone in the blood of Christ. He 
mourned over the insubordination of the passions, and 
prayed that grace might be given to bring them into cap- 
tivity to the will of the Master. 

" Before preaching, his prayer for aid was most earnest. 
One was reminded of the wrestling of the patriarch at the 
fords of the brook Jabbok. There was a timidity and self- 
distrust which seemed almost unsuitable to his position in 
the church. Admiring as I did his genius, and feeling 
that nothing required of the human intellect was beyond 
him, I used then to listen to these pleadings with wonder. 

" A prayer ofiered by him at the opening of a term of 
the U. S. Circuit Court, Mr. Justice Story presiding, is to 
this day vivid before my mind. It was an invocation of 
the presence of God as the Author and Source of all jus- 
tice, and the Being before whom the judges of the earth 
would all stand to give an account of the manner in which 
they had administered the laws among men. An allusion 
to the omnipresence of God made me tremble. ' Hell is 
naked before thee, and destruction hath no covering.' 
I recall no passages in his sermons or addresses that sur- 
jiass in sublimity some portions of that prayer. Specta- 
tors, jurors, advocates, and judges were hushed into per- 
fect stillness during its utterance ; and I asked myself who, 
during that session of the court, would dare to connive at 
injustice, or to devise or award anything which would not 
be approved at the final judgment day. The court seemed 
to me but a faint and poor imitation of the great tribunal 
before which we must all appear." 

VOL. I. i8 


But the president was by no means contented with 
these modes of approaching the hearts and consciences of 
his pupils. He longed to discover yet other avenues to 
their moral natures. Therefore, although already over- 
tasked by the arduous labors and grave responsibilities of 
his position, he commenced a series of Sabbath services in 
the college chapel. In 1832 Mrs. Wayland, writing to 
Dr. Wayland's mother, says, — 

" I wish to inform you what is your son's present course 
of religious instruction in college. He has every Saturday 
evening a conference meeting, v/hich he holds with the 
Senior class ; and for three Sabbaths past he has preached 
to the students and to the officers and their families in 
the college chapel. His Bible class continues every 
Sunday evening. I think too much devolves on him, but 
he says, ' it is his dispensation always.' " 

These sermons were continued, with only such inter- 
missions as the pressure of his duties made absolutely 
necessary, until nearly the close of his presidency ; and 
who shall measure and estimate the influence which these 
discourses, addressed to so many successive classes of 
young men, may have exerted upon their future career in 
life? How have those j^ointed, personal sermons moulded 
the Christian belief and stimulated the piety of hundreds 
of students ! 

At a meeting of graduates, October 3, 1S65, A. Payne, 
Esq., said, — 

" If I were to speak of the things done by him, which 
I think were most remarkable, I should not fix upon any 
of the great works by which he is known all over the 
Christian world. I should recall some of the sermons 
which he preached in the old chapel, on what was called 
the Annual College Fast — some of those occasions upon 
which he laid himself alongside of the young men in 
college, and, with all the earnestness of which he was 
capable, tried to bring them to his way of thinking upon 
the subject of religion. I have never heard anything in 
human speech superior to passages in some of these 


addresses. And I am very much mistaken if, when that 
sifting process has been performed upon his works whicli 
has to be performed upon the works of every author, 
some of those University Sermons, as I beheve they were 
called, will not survive everything else that he has writ- 
ten or spoken." 

And yet, whatever of spiritual power or of impressive 
eloquence these discourses contained, was borrowed, not 
from the momentary excitement caused by a crowded 
house, but from the love of the preacher for the souls of 
his hearers. Says a member of the class of 1838, — * 

'• On one occasion, in my Senior year (1S3S), Dr. Way- 
land preached on Sunday afternoon in the college chapel. 
Through some mistake, notice of the service had not been 
given to the students. Hence only three were present. 

" The text was, ' I have heard of thee by the hear- 
ing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee,' &c. The 
subject of the discourse was the nature of genuine repent- 
ance. He spoke without notes, and with singular clear- 
ness and power. It was a most convincing, eloquent, and 
im^oressive sermon, and as animated and earnest in delivery 
as if preached to a crowded audience. His inspiration 
was drawn solely from his sacred theme." 

We cannot better illustrate his diffidence and self-dis- 
trust than by quoting his expressions of surprise at the 
cordiality of the reception by the public of his volume of 
" University Sermons : " — 

"... I heartily reciprocate your wish that the author 
was as good as his sermons, without, however, claiming 
much goodness for them. It is easier to preach than to 
practise. I seem to be striving to do better, but I come 
lamentably short in everything, and I can get no higher 
than ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' The Sermons 
have been received far better than I expected. The first 
edition is exhausted, and a second is already published. 
This is encouragement which I had not anticipated. INIay 
God command his blessing on them, and make them useful 
in his cause." 

* Rev. E. G. Robinson, D. D. 


In order that our readers may be able to form a more 
correct estimate of the sermons addressed by Dr. Wayland 
to the undergraduates than can be afforded by any mere 
sketch, however graphic, and because the " University 
Sermons " do not adequately exhibit the parental tender- 
ness of his personal appeals, we present in full one of his 
discourses, hitherto unpublished, preached in the college 
chapel, July 18, 1847, ^^ ^^^^ close of the collegiate 

"y4 wise son maketh a glad father^ btit a foolish son is 
the heaviness of his mother" — Prov. x : i. 

" It is interesting to observe, young gentlemen, how 
admirably all the relations which we sustain are intended 
to promote our virtue and well-being. Every one of us 
stands connected with the society of which he forms a 
part, in ways too numerous to admit of a ready specifi- 
cation. Wc are citizens of a common country ; we are 
fellow-townsmen of the place of our residence ; we are 
members of a particular social circle ; we are intimates 
with those of our own age ; we are co-workers with those 
in our own profession ; we arc kinsmen of those descended 
from the same ancestor ; we are brothers and sisters in 
the same family ; we are parents or children in the same 
household. In all these, and a hundred relations beside, 
our happiness or misery is of necessity aflected by the 
conduct of those with whom we are thus, with so much 
complexity, associated. 

" Now, one of the results flowing from these associa- 
tions is the consciousness of a peculiar responsibility for 
tlie good conduct of others. We feel disgraced in the eyes 
of the world if an American citizen dishonors his name, 
forfeits his word, is false to his engagements, or becomes 
a traitor to his country. We feel an additional pride in 

* It is worthy of note that for these Sabbath services in the 
chapel, Dr. Wajland ahnost invariably wrote new sermons, not 
availing himself of the ample supplies accumulated in the course 
of former parochial labors. The preparation of these discourses, 
occupying Friday afternoon and Saturday, consumed the hours 
which might have been claimed for rest and relaxation. 


our citizenship, if our brethren, in cases of emergency, 
disphiy the evidences of high integrity, unsullied faith, 
unshaken bravery, and disinterested benevolence. Nor is 
this feeling at all confined to ourselves. It is the reflec- 
tion of a sentiment which others, whether we are aware 
of it or not, entertain towards us. A few years since it was 
believed that this whole country was about to disavow its 
solemn obligations. What American did not feel humbled 
when he contemplated the prospect? And there was reason 
for this feeling of humiliation. Wherever an American 
travelled over the fiice of the earth, he heard of nothing 
but Repudiation. It mattered not from what part of the 
Union he derived his origin ; it was of no consequence 
whether he had or had not been a party to the acts in 
question. He was an American citizen, and he must bear 
his part of the odium, and suffer his part of the social 
punishment which was inflicted on those who were be- 
lieved to be the ill-doers. And who of us has not breathed 
more freely, who of us has not looked a foreigner more 
calmly in the face, as this reproach has been from time to 
time wiped away, and the good faith of our country has 
been, in many instances, so nobly maintained? Again, 
when these very nations, who thought ill of us, were suf- 
fering by famine, and their poverty-stricken populations 
were perishing by thousands and hundreds of thousands, 
wlio has not exulted in the spontaneous liberality with 
which our people moved to their relief? It was a noble 
spectacle to behold this whole country, from the Gulf of 
jSIexico to the distant Aroostook, — once almost a battle- 
ground, — from the Mississippi to the Atlantic coast, — 
so lately almost threatened with bombardment, — hasten- 
ing to pour out their offerings for the sustentation of a 
starving peasantry. It was a proud sight to look upon, 
when ovir national vessels, originally designed to accom- 
plish nothing but the purposes of vengeance, were sent 
on this errand of mercy. It was glorious to behold 
them, dismantled of their armaments, every destructive 
engine laid aside, the white flag of the Prince of Peace 
floating from every mast-head, loaded with provisions for 
starving thousands, enter the harbor of a famine-stricken 
land. It was reserved for us, in the kind providence of 
God, to be the first people upon earth who should thus 
commence the fulfilment of that prophecy, ' Men shall 


beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into 
pruning-hooks.' And who of us does not exult in this deed 
of national mercy? Who does not feel that he himself 
is exalted in the eyes of the world, in this honor that has 
been done to the American name ? Who does not feel 
conscious that in the presence of a holy universe, and of 
God, the Father Almighty, the acts of Palo Alto, and Mon- 
tei'ey, and Buena Vista, and Vera Cruz, and Cerro Gordo 
are covered with blackness, in contrast with the mission 
of the Jamestown and the Macedonian, and the fleet that 
accompanied them, bearing succor and life to millions 
who were dying for lack of bread? 

" But this illustration has carried me farther than I 
intended ; so far, I fear, that I may seem to have lost 
sight of its original design. You will, however, all ob- 
serve the point to which it tends. It is to show that in 
this, the most general sense, we all feel responsible for 
the acts of those with whom we stand connected, even in 
the most common relations. We rejoice in their well- 
doing, and are pained at the sight of their folly and their 
sin. And you will all perceive at once that this feeling 
of responsibility is stronger, and its action is more decided, 
as the relation which gives rise to it is narrower and more 
exclusive. We are more sensitive to the good or evil con- 
duct of a native of our own state than of one who is 
merely an American citizen. We are more strongly 
moved by the acts of a townsman than of a native of the 
same state. We are still more deeply affected if he who 
has done well or ill is our kinsman, our friend, or our 
brother. To be even remotely related to one who has 
desei-ved well of his country, is a heritage more valuable 
than wealth, and we hand down to other ages the evi- 
dences of our relationship, — 

'And dying mention it within our wills, 
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy 
Unto our issue.' 

" But it will be obvious that to none of the relations 
which exist among us are these remarks so applicable as 
to that of parents and children. There is here not a 
seeming, but a positive responsibility. The parent is 
intrusted by God with authority over the child. To him 
is committed the duty of forming the character of his oft- 


spring, of correcting his defects, of fostering his virtues, 
and of instilling into his mind those principles which 
must lie at the foundation of his future manhood. The 
life of the man is generally held to be the exponent of the 
education which he has received from his parents. No 
one speaks of the Gracchi without, at the same time, re- 
membering the mother of the Gracchi. No one mentions 
Washington without also honoring the mother of Wash- 
ino-ton. Indeed, so far has this sentiment been carried 
by'some nations, that they have held the parent legally 
responsible, during his whole life, for the actions of his 
children ; rewarding him, and not them, if they have acted 
well ; punishing him, and not them, if they have acted 

" Now, to meet the demands of this relation, there have 
been implanted in our nature all the needful propensities. 
In infancy the care of the child devolves almost exclu- 
sively upon the mother, and the manner in which she 
discharges this duty has passed into a proverb. Her self- 
denying care for her babe has ever been, among all 
nations and in all ages, the highest conception which we 
can form of disinterested affection. She will toil till life 
itself is exhausted that she may furnish sustenance to her 
little ones. When gasping in the deadly faintness of 
famine, she will pass the untasted morsel to her babe. 
Shivering in the winter's storm, she will strip herself of 
covering to save her child from freezing. In shipwreck 
she will beseech with tears a place for her infant in the 
long-boat, and go down, without a murmur, in the foun- 
dering bark. Nor are we ever astonished at beholding 
such scenes of self-devotion. We look at them as the ex- 
pected and ordinary workings of a mother's heart. Were 
it not so — did she act otherwise — did she seek her own 
safety at the expense of her offspring, we should look at 
her with horror, and declare that, in not loving her child 
better than herself, she had proved herself false to the 
primary instinct of her maternal nature. 

"As the child grows up to boyhood and youth, the 
care of him is devolved more directly upon the father. 
And here you behold the same impulse carried into action 
with almost similar results. The object of the father is 
to prepare his son for manhood, and to give him every 
advantage for performing his part in life with success. 


That he may be enabled to do this, what labor is too 
exhausting, what care too corroding, what self-denial too 
severe ? You behold around you on every side the put- 
ting forth of ceaseless toil. In all the departments of life, 
whether agricultural, commercial, manufacturing, or pro- 
fessional, from early dawn to drowsy twilight, muscle 
and sinews, body and mind, are strained to their utmost 
point of tension. The results of all this activity are most 
carefully husbanded. The dollar and the cent are scrupu- 
lously laid aside and thoughtfully invested. When gains 
begin to accumulate, the man still toils on with undi- 
minished energy ; his raiment scarcely less coarse, and 
his relaxations hardlv more numerous. lie has all that he 
needs for himself, but he chooses to be still bending over 
his task. He looks forward to no release until death, and 
expects no other end than to die in the harness. 

" Now, if you were to go among these busy midtitudes, 
who are laboring on the wharf, or in the counting-room, 
in the field, the factory, or the office, and ask them why 
this ceaseless exertion, what think you would be their 
answer? Would it be, that they were endeavoring to 
secure for themselves ease, or rank, or pleasui'e? Far 
from it. They would tell you of the family at home, who 
were growing up, and who were depending on them for 
the means of support, and the opportunity of prepara- 
tion for future usefulness. It matters not how hard the 
parent may toil ; he bears it patiently, that so he may ren- 
der the life of his child less irksome. It matters not how 
neglected may have been the education of the father; he 
will see to it that the education of his son be not 
neglected. He may have been cast oft' in boyhood to 
buffet with the storm, and struggle with it as for life, but 
he will labor without ceasing that his children may com- 
mence their career under happier auspices. In fact, this 
feeling, as we all see, is liable to be carried to excess, and 
men are commonly disposed to do more for their children 
than they really need ; forgetting that the lesson of self- 
reliance can only be learned in the school of anxiety and 
hardship, and that it is taught us only by the severe dis- 
cipline of personal responsibility and mortifying failure. 

" It is a most interesting sight to behold one who has 
attained to some consideration among his fellow-men, 
watching with paternal solicitude over the education of 


his offspring. He will undergo the severest professional 
labor, and task his intellectual energies until they sink 
benumbed with paralysis, for the sake of placing his chil- 
dren under the most favorable and costly conditions of 
improvement that his country can afford. Nor is he satis- 
fied when these are exhausted. He will toil on in solitude, 
at midnight, that his son may enjoy the advantages of 
Eui-opean instruction. Every mail, with its frequent 
remittances, carries with it his lessons of wisdom and in- 
citements to improvement. Gladly does he peril even 
life for the sake of enabling his child to commence his 
career from a more advantageous starting-point than he 
himself enjoyed, and to hand down unsullied to another 
generation the name which he lias with so much effort 
rendered illustrious. 

" But a still stronger case than this is yet more fre- 
quently seen. Amidst the families of restricted means in 
our land, it is not uncommon to observe talent of unusual 
promise ; for in this gift the poor share as liberally as 
the rich. The natural feeling of which I have spoken 
leads the parents to wish that the child thus endowed 
may enjoy fit advantages for developing that talent which, 
to them at least, seems to have been so largel}' bestowed. 
The course, however, is long, and the outlay such as must 
bear heavily upon every resource that has been placed 
at their disposal. Still, they and their other children re- 
solve to make the sacrifice. The labor of the household 
is increased. Every expense is curtailed. The table is 
shorn of its slender luxuries, and the wardrobe is rendered 
plainer and more scanty. Thus year after year of self- 
denial — honorable, noble self-denial — is endured, that 
the son and brother may wear clothes such as they do not 
wear, eat from a table such as they do not sjDread, devote 
himself to quiet study while they are exhausted with toil, 
and enter upon a sphere of professional eminence where 
they know that they can never follow him. It is in such 
unobtrusive examples as these that we see the true noble- 
ness of man; and no country on earth presents them in 
greater number than our own. 

" And what is the reward which the parent hopes to 
receive from all this lavish expenditure ? Does he expect 
that it will ever be repaid? Far from it ; for the parents 
lay up for the children, and not the children for the par- 


ents. Does he anticipate that in his dedining years the 
self-denial which he has suffered will be repaid by similar 
self-denial, in his behalf, by his child? Far, very far from 
it. This thought never once enters his mind. All that 
he desires is, that his son may wisely improve the advan- 
tages which are purchased for him at so great cost. If 
that son, with honest and faithful assiduity, devote him- 
self to the acquisition of knowledge ; if he resolutely form 
those habits of honorable and virtuous self-government 
which are absolutely necessary to success ; if he spurn 
from him the examples of the bad, and turn away his ear 
from listening to tlae principles which lead to shame ; if, 
while doing this, he act from motives of piety, and set the 
Lord always before his face, that he sin not against him, 
— then is every wish of a father's heart gratified. Then, 
as, from time to time, he welcomes home his son, and 
observes the evidence of improvement in his expanding 
faculties and enlarged knowledge, in his principles more 
firmly fixed, and manners more decorous and gentleman- 
like, in judgment more matured, and affections more con- 
fiding and grateful, — then it is that the heart of the parent 
leaps for joy ; then do all his self-sacrifices seem over and 
over repaid, and the sentiment of the text is fully illus- 
trated, A wise son maketh a glad father. 

" But what shall we say if all this picture be reversed? 
What if the son, as soon as he has escaped from under 
the eye of his parents, become forgetful of all filial obli- 
gation? What if every opportunity of improvement be 
neglected, and the time which is thus dearly purchased 
for him be spent in dreamy idleness, in frivolous or vicious 
reading, or in the company of the impure and profligate? 
What if the funds wrung, it may be, by ambiguous repre- 
sentations, from the self-sacrificing earnings of parents, 
be consumed in boyish sport, or sensual gratification ; 
what if the young man who was early taught to fear God 
has learned already to scoff* at religion and to make a 
mock at sin ; what if, as he returns home at the close of 
every term, a more and more decided testimony of his 
worthlessness follow him ; if, as his ignorance becomes 
more apparent, his arrogance become more insuflTerable ; 
what if the contagion of his example begin to corrupt 
his younger and more virtuous brothers at home ; and 
finally, what if it be needful to remove him from an insti- 


tution to which his character has become an offence no 
longer to be borne? Then is it that the cnp of a parent's 
misery is filled. Then is a foolish son a heaviness to her 
that bare him. 

" It has been my lot to witness most of the ordinary 
forms of human sorrow, but never have I been called to 
sympathize in any so hard to be endured as that occa- 
sioned by filial ingratitude. I have heard the father re- 
count his sacrifices and those of his family for his son, 
and then narrate, wdiat I too well knew, the manner in 
which these sacrifices have been requited. I have seen 
tears coursing down the sun-burnt cheeks of a gray-headed 
man, while sobs that choked his utterance told of a grief 
which language could not unfold. I have felt at such a 
time that earth had no consolation for such a mourner. 
I could do nothing but mingle my tears with the broken- 
hearted man, and commend him, from my inmost soul, to 
God, who is the Comforter of those that be cast down. 

" It will, I know, be said that these are extreme cases ; 
that few are as thoughtful as the former, and few as reck- 
less as the latter, of these instances suggests. I am per- 
fectly aware of this. There are not many who wring 
their parents' hearts with anguish such as I have described ; 
but, on the other hand, the praise which we bestow on 
the young man who is ever thoughtful of his parents' 
feelings, and grateful for his parents' sacrifices, teaches 
us that such examples of filial duty are also rare. But 
why, I ask, should they be so rare? Is it a very remark- 
able attainment of virtue for a young man to embrace the 
opportunities of attaining to honor and distinction which 
are freely placed before him? Is it an act of preeminent 
goodness to requite kindness with affection, to be grate- 
ful for favors purchased by labors, self-denials, and priva- 
tions, which are endured for you, and have no other object 
than your own well-being? If a man be thoughtful and 
grateful, reason itself teaches us that he does no more 
than his duty ; while to fail in this cardinal point exposes 
him justly to our severest reprehension. 

" Now, I by no means intend to affirm that an utter 
disregard of the happiness of parents is common among 
young men. It is, on the contrary, quite uncommon. A 
portion of filial affection is frequently an element in the 
character even of the most reckless. It may be overlaid 


by a variety of bad habits and vicious sentiments ; but 
any violent disruption of ordinary relations is likely to 
bring it to the surface. When a young man falls into 
disgrace, it usually happens that the pain which he thus 
inflicts upon his parents is the bitterest ingredient in his 
cup of sorrow. This always affords reason for hope. 
It shows that the man has not become wholly worthless. 
And not unfrequently have I seen this strong principle 
of our nature the means of recalling a young man to vir- 
tue, when hope from every other source had long been 

" It is not, then, fro-m deliberate and heardess ingratitude 
that the young so frequently inflict pain upon their par- 
ents. It is from thoughtlessness and utter want of consid- 
eration. They do not think of consequences in respect to 
themselves, and they do not think of them in respect to 
others. They have no idea of the joy which they can create 
by doing well, nor of the misery which they must occasion 
by doing ill. It is on this very account that I have taken 
occasion, young gentlemen, to set these things plainly be- 
fore you. I do it now that you may go home wath these 
considerations distinctly before you. I do it because you 
will have the opportunity, very soon, of judging from your 
own observation whether I have said truly. It is on this 
very account that our coUcge vacations occur so frequent- 
ly. We wish you to be as often as possible brought under 
the influence of home, and to be at short intervals reminded 
of the obligations which the filial relations so manifestly 
impose upon you. Permit me, in closing this discourse, 
to suggest a few reflections which may tend to deepen 
these convictions, which I cannot but hope already exist in 
your minds upon this subject. 

" I. Regard to the feelings of parents has a manifest 
tendency to cultivate refinement of character. It teaches 
us to act continually from the most amiable and praise- 
worthy impulses of our nature. We thus learn to do, or 
to refrain from doing, not for ourselves, but for others. 
We acquire the habit of acting for the happiness of those 
who love us best, in the place of seeking our own ease, or 
pleasure, or sensual gratification. He who has formed 
these habits is surely developing in himself every disposi- 
tion that can render him estimable among men, or pre- 
pare the way for his future success. As he enters into 


life, and takes his place in society, he will only need to 
transfer to his friends, and to the world at large, the senti- 
ments which he has cherished towards his parents, and he 
can scarcely fail to become an amiable and accomplished 

" 2. The habit v/hich he cultivates lies at the founda- 
tion of all moral attainments. You all know that to re- 
gard the feelings of parents, while we are absent from 
them, is to place ourselves under the control of an ztnseefz 
law, written on our hearts, and read there only by our- 
selves. Now, this is the very principle from which all 
virtuous conduct proceeds. He who has learned to obey 
such a law in one case, will the more readily obey it in 
another. And hence it is, that, in all ages, obedience to 
parents has been considered the germ of all honorable 
conduct in after life, and the unfailing augury of future 
success. And I think that all observers of human nature 
will bear me out in the assertion that the future career of 
a young man can be more certainly predicted from this 
single element of character, than from any other that can 
be mentioned. 

" 3. Remember that the relations which you sustain to 
your parents must soon, in the order of nature, terminate. 
It miay reasonably be expected that they will die before 
you. Then it will be impossible to remedy the errors or 
si'.pply the defects of the past. When this sad hour shall 
arrive, no one can estimate the alleviation which it will 
prove to your sorrow to reflect that you have never 
given needless pain to the venerable form that lies cold in 
death. Nor can any one tell how exquisite will be your 
grief, if, as you behold that countenance that can never 
again reciprocate your look of love, you recollect that 
your conduct has forced tears from those sunken eyes, 
that your misdoings have wrung that heart with anguish, 
and that your thoughtless ingratitude has brought those 
gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. As you would se- 
cure peaceful composvn-e in that trying hour, and as yovi 
would avoid the anguish of remorse to which it may con- 
sign you, I beseech you now to remember that ' a wise son 
maketh a glad father, but a foolish son is the heaviness 
of his mother.' 

" Again, let us observe that success in any of our pur- 
suits is ever the gift of God. 'A man's heart deviseth his 


way, but the Lord directeth his steps.' You can expect 
to attain to no success without his blessing. You must 
inevitably fail in all your undertakings, if you act under 
his displeasure. Now, you all very well know that of the 
moral laws which he has given us, this is the only one 
to which he has affixed a definite promise. ' Honor thy 
father and thy mother, as the Lord thy God hath com- 
manded thee, that thy days may be prolonged, and that 
it may be well with thee in the land which the Lord thy 
God giveth thee.' This is not a commandment to the 
Israelites alone, for the apostle repeats it as a command- 
ment and promise to us. We have, then, the law of God 
to each one of us. If we obey it, we may claim the prom- 
ise of his gracious protection. When you can so easily 
and honorably obtain it, would you go forth into life 
without such a guarantee? 

" In fine, let us all look back over the year which is 
now drawing to a close. There is not one of you who 
does not stand in this relation, and who is not under these 
obligations, either to parents now living, or to those 
already with God. In many things you have all, I doubt 
not, come short of your duty. Your diligence might have 
been more earnest, your self-government more exemplary, 
your i-egard to your parents more constantly in exercise, 
and your affection to them more thoughtful and rcsj^ect- 
ful. I trust you all regret a failure in these respects, even 
in the least degree. Let us then recall the past with pen- 
itence, and look forward to the future with sincere reso- 
lutions of amendment. May you all return to your homes 
bearing evidence of such improvement in intellect and 
character as shall gladden the hearts of those who love 
you. May God preserve you and yours during this ap- 
proaching season of relaxation, and by his blessing may 
we meet here again, earnestly resolved to spend the next 
year in a manner worthy of the advantages which God 
in his mercy has bestowed upon us. 

" I cannot close these chapel discourses for the present 
term, young gentlemen, without a brief reference to the 
time which we have spent together. When we first as- 
sembled in this place, on our return from vacation, I took 
occasion to offer to you such advice as our situation seemed 
to demand. It is therefore proper that I should express 


to you the pleasure which I feel in believing that my 
advice was useful to you, or, what is still better, that your 
own correct principles rendered this advice unnecessary. 
I think I may say with truth, that in no collegiate term 
since my connection wnth this institution have Vv'e done 
more work, or in a more scholar-like manner. Your 
instructors, young gentlemen, bear united testimony to 
your punctuality, successful application, and gentleman- 
like deportment. Unless all the indications with which 
I am acquainted have proved fallacious, you have all 
made decided progress in intellectual and moral character. 
It is most delightful to us to bear this testimony. It cheers 
us in our labor. We thank God and take courage. 

" Since we first assembled here, at the commencement 
of this term, several of us have been visited with sickness : 
one is now seriously ill, and one of our number has been 
summoned to the bar of God. We part in a few days ; 
but shall we all meet here again? How easily are our 
plans frustrated by the approach of sickness or the touch 
of death ! All these events should remind us of the un- 
certainty of everything earthly, and the importance of 
being reconciled to God, and ever living in preparation 
for our last change. Let not, then, the joys of a return to 
your friends render you thoughtless respecting your im- 
mortal interests. Remember you are everywhere forming 
character for eternity. Everywhere you are consuming 
the time allotted by God for your probation. See, then, 
that it be not spent in vain. 

" Before the opening of another term the present aca- 
demic year will have closed, and a new one will have com- 
menced. This little era in our existence should suggest 
to us thoughts that should make us better. It is a suita- 
ble season for a review of the past. We should examine 
the history of the year just closing, and ask what report 
it has borne to heaven, and how it might have borne more 
welcome news. It is a suitable season for resolutions of 
amendment and progress. Time past is beyond our 
power. Neither prayers nor tears can recall the moment 
that has flown. The future will receive its character 
from our decision. Let us then, if we are spared to 
enter upon a new year, commence it with a solemn de- 
termination to spend it in the fear of God, and in seri- 


oiis preparation for eternity. Let us look up to God for 
his grace to assist us, and this grace is never wanting to 
those who seek for it aright. Thus commencing the year 
in the fear of God, we may confidently look up to him for 
his blessing ; and whether we see the close of it or not, 
will be a matter of indifference to us, for, ' absent frona 
the body, we shall be present with the Lord.' " 






POWERFUL for good as were the daily religious 
exercises of the college chapel, the Sabbath services, 
and the frequent opportunities of personal conversation, 
they were far from satisfying Dr. Wayland's anxious con- 
cern for the spiritual welfare of his pupils. Early in his 
administration he commenced a Sunday evening Bible 
class. The careful and critical study of the Scriptures, to 
which he had already devoted so much of his time, and 
the invaluable treasures of biblical lore which he had 
derived from the teaching of Professor Stuart, were an 
admirable preparation for such an exercise. The manner 
in which this class was conducted, and the salutary in- 
fluence which it exerted among the undergraduates of the 
universit}', are happily presented in the reminiscences of 
Dr. Bailey. 

"Dr. Wayland's Bible class became somewhat famous. 
It met on Sabbath evenings in the old chapel. He com- 
menced with the study of the Epistle to the Romans. 
The examination of this portion of the Scriptures pro- 
ceeded slowly. Each verse, and, when necessary, each 
word, was closely scrutinized, and its exact meaning and 
force determined. What the apostle aflirms in regard to 
man's moral nature was made a topic of special investi- 

" With unfaltering step Dr. Wayland conducted his pu- 
pils over the ground traversed by the apostle. He listened 
patiently to all inquiries, heard and considered all objec- 

VOL. I. 19 


tions, and discovered a reply to both in that wonderful 
utterance of inspiration. What it declared, he repeated ; 
when it was silent, he did not seek to supply the omission. 
Although I was not myself a Christian at the time to 
which I refer, and did not often attend the ' doctor's 
Bible class,' yet I could not associate with the religious 
imdergraduates without hearing frequently of the wonder- 
fid things said on Sabbath evenings in the college chapel. 
My room-mate, a pious young man studying for the 
ministry, was laborious in preparing for this exercise, and 
constant in his attendance. He always entered our room 
on his return with some expression of admiration. When 
we conversed on the subject of religion, my dissent from 
his views was frequently met with a wish that I had heard 
wdiat the 'old doctor' had said on that subject in the 
Bible class. I soon found that I had to grapple not alone 
with my room-mate, a young man of respectable promise, 
but, in the last resort, with the j^resident himself, and with 
the wonderful institution of which he was the presiding 
genius. In visiting other rooms, I discovered that the 
subjects discussed on the Sabbath were not forgotten dur- 
ing the succeeding week or weeks, but continued to give 
rise to interested and animated conversation, and usually 
to conviction. 

"This Bible class, in his hands, became a power, and 
gained a reputation extending far beyond the walls of the 
college. It even excited, it was rumored, the jealousy of 
a theological institution then struggling for a place in the 
affections of the churches. It was hinted that the student 
preparing for the ministry at Brown, after attending the 
instructions given in that class for four years, did not feel 
that he greatly needed a course of lectures from a pro- 
fessor in didactic theology. It was hinted, indeed, that 
those who pursued their theological studies in a semina- 
ry, sometimes annoyed their instructors by too frequent 
allusions to the views and opinions which had been 
advanced in the chapel of their a/wa ma^er. 

" By these varied and prolonged eflbrts, as well as by 
his labors in the pulpit, soundness of faith was secured to 
the university. Yet what he most of all desired was for a 
considerable time withheld. Year after year he prayed, 
labored, and watched for a revival ; but it came not. 

" Sometime during the year 1833, J^Irs. Wayland, then 


in feeble health, invited several pious ladies to join her, 
at her house, in special prayer for a revival of religion in 
college. For a long time they sought this great blessing 
apparently in vain. At last, however, soon after the com- 
mencement of the winter term of 1834, there was a cloud, 
v»hlch, though small, sustained their hopes. There was 
increased interest in the weekly college prayer-meeting. 
Religion became more and more the subject of conver- 
sation. Christians gave evidence of new activity and 
quickened zeal. The impenitent were visited, and prayed 
for and with. Each class met by itself in a private room, 
and untiring efforts were made to secure the attendance 
of all. Christians confessed witli tears tlieir unfaithful- 
ness, and entreated those with whom they had been 
intimate, no longer to neglect salvation. Soon new-born 
souls added their appeals to those of older Christians. 

"This revival — the first under his administration — 
occurred after years of anxious labor, and was the con- 
summation of his desires and hopes. During it all, his 
state of mind was truly heavenly ; humble, tender, prayer- 
ful, solicitous now for this one and now for that one, and 
incessant in his efforts to persuade all his pupils to be 
reconciled to God. His conversations, his exhortations, 
his sermons, his prayers, seemed to me more eloquent 
and melting than anything I had ever heard from mor- 
tal lips. 

" Meanwhile, at his home, one who had shared with 
him the toils and the trials of faith was rapidly sinking 
into the arms of death. Constantly he was expecting to 
be called from his lecture-room, or from his study, or from 
the prayer-meeting, to hear her last words and to bid her 
a last farewell. I have seen him start, almost convul- 
sively, when his little son entered the recitation-room, 
supposing that the child had come to bring tidings of the 
near approach of the final hour. Throughout the weeks 
of that eventful term, amid all these conflicting emotions, 
he was calm, subdued, affectionate, sad, cheerful. 

" We shall never see his like again. His mantle has 
not descended upon any of us." 

Notwithstanding the extent and variety of Dr. Way- 
land's efforts to promote the spiritual welfare of his pupils, 
he by no means believed that he had done his full duty in 


this respect. While to others he seemed, even tested by 
the most exalted standard of moral obligation, to have 
labored to the utmost limit of his mental and physical 
capacity, his rare modesty, and his severe criterion of duty 
led him to put a very low estimate upon what he had ac- 
complished. In the sight of his Maker he even felt con- 
victed of moral delinquency. Upon this point the follow- 
ing extract from his personal reminiscences will be read 
with deep and affecting interest : — 

" So far as labor is concerned, I cannot charge myself 
with dereliction of duty. In another respect I am con- 
scious of serious cause of regret. I did not rely, as I ought 
to have done, upon the blessing of God, without whicli 
no amount of exertion can succeed. I did not make my 
labors the subject of earnest prayer, but depended too 
much upon personal effort. I had, of course, a general 
sense of dependence on God, and of reliance on his good- 
ness in the discharge of dut3\ I did not make this suf- 
ficiently special, in view of the fact that all my efforts 
were utterly valueless without the divine blessing. 

" I did not pay suitable attention to the cultivation of 
the religious character of my pupils. I am aware of the 
influence which an instructor is capable of v/ielding in 
this respect ; but I did not adequately exert it. It is 
true that I frequently joined the young men in their reli- 
gious meetings, and endeavored to speak to them directly 
and solemnly. This I did as often as they desired. In 
times of particular attention to religion I gave myself up 
primarily to their spiritual instruction. For several years 
I preached regularly in the chapel for their special bene- 
fit, preparing a sermon every week. But this was not 
enough. I should have allowed no student to leave col- 
lege, especially those under my particular instruction, 
without having a private, earnest, faithful conversation 
with him on the subject of his eternal interests. 

" Year after year I resolved to do this ; but I did it 
only in part. I sometimes appointed evenings for con- 
versation with those who desired an interview for this 
purpose. I often sent for individuals with this express 
design ; but it turned out, at the close of each year, that 
many left me, perhaps forever, on whom I had never 


ursfed attention to reIi2:ion, and before whom I had never 
set forth their danger of eternal destruction. If I had 
plainly and resolutely done this, I should probably have 
been of more real service to my pupils than I accomplished 
by all my other labors in connection with the college. 

" In this respect I fear that officers of colleges greatly 
err. They are, in most colleges in New England, and in the 
Northern States (and I am acquainted with no others), 
professors of religion, and often clergymen. They are 
expected to exercise a positive religious influence upon 
their pupils. But I apprehend that such expectation is 
frequently disappointed. For the most part, they set 
before the students a proper example, and sometimes 
refer to religion, when such a reference is manifestly 
demanded by the subject under immediate consideration ; 
but the reference is rather such as would be made by any 
observer of the historical laws of cause and eflect, than 
what would naturally be expected from those whose dis- 
tinction is, that they are ' the salt of tlie earth,' ' the light 
of the world.' If every instructor in every college in our 
land felt himself personally responsible for the spiritual 
well-being of every young man under his charge, a col- 
legiate life would cease to be a season of danger, and 
frequently of sore temptation. God would crown with his 
special blessing all honest efibrts for the religious im- 
provement of the undergraduates, and an academical 
society would become a nursery for heaven." 

Wc have thus for considered Dr. Wayland only in his 
relations to his pupils. The following letter from Pro- 
fessor William Gammell describes the nature of his inter- 
course, official and social, with those gentlemen who so effi- 
ciently aided him in the labors of collegiate education : — 

" You request me to give you some account of the rela- 
tions, both official and social, which Dr. Vv^ayland, while 
president of Brown University, was accustomed to hold 
with his associates in the Faculty of instruction. I was 
with him there for twenty-three years. Entering the 
Faculty soon after my graduation, I grew up in it from 
being the junior tutor until I was at length one of the 
senior professors. My mind is so full of recollections of 
the president, who was first my teacher, and afterwards 


through life my associate and friend, that I hardly know 
how to arransre and state them so as to set forth his char- 
acter as it used to present itself in our daily intercourse. 
His relations to those connected with him changed some- 
what, as a matter of course, with the progress of his life ; 
but I will attempt to illustrate them as they existed in 
the vigor and noonday of his career, and, for the most 
part, without reference to any one period rather than 

" I. No one feature of his official character, I am sure, 
is more conspicuous in the recollections of his associates, 
than his pervading sense of the responsibility of his po- 
sition as the head of the college, and especially as the 
guardian and teacher of young men. This feeling he 
used constantly to express ; and he always desired his 
associates to share it, as a condition, so to speak, of their 
own success, as well as of the prosperity of the college. 
He was in the habit of referring very frequently to the 
property which, for the time, we were using, and to the 
duty of guarding it from injury and loss, to the dignity of 
an instructor's work, to the moral trusts involved in the 
care of young men, especially when away from home, and 
to the hopes and expectations of parents. 

" If any of us officially mentioned to him the case of a 
student who was not doing well in his studies or in his 
conduct, he would almost invariably inquire if we had 
used our best endeavors to keep him up to the mark and 
save him. He would often remind us that if it should 
become necessary to send the young man home to his 
parents, he must be able to say that the college had done 
its utmost to benefit him. He always sympathized most 
deeply with the pain which a measure of extreme disci- 
pline would be likely to produce in the family circle to 
which the student belonged ; saying that nothing was 
more trying than to be obliged to tell the truth to a parent 
about an idle or wayward son. 

" This feeling of responsibility arose in part from his 
pi'ofound estimate of the transcendent importance of char- 
acter, as compared with even the most advantageous gifts 
of fortune, and in part from his religious views of human 
life. He believed in it as an opportunity given to us 
for work and for culture, as a season of probation, as the 
spring-time of the immortality to come. To have the best 


portion of it wasted by any of those for whose training he 
was in any degree responsible, gave him the utmost con- 
cern. If anything occurred in the conduct of a student, 
or in the general course of the college, indicating a low 
moral tone, he seemed always to blame himself that it 
had not been anticipated and guarded against. In the 
earlier part of his presidency, his standard in some of these 
respects was, perhaps, an unattainable idea ; but its exist- 
ence in his own mind gave a sort of heroic energy to his 
administration of the college, which we were all obliged 
to share. He constantly admonished us to give attention 
to the first wrong step in any young man, and to seek to 
prevent its repetition. Obsta prlncipiis was a motto 
which he always had in mind. 

" 2. He was himself, as all his pupils will remember, an 
enthusiastic teacher. He was a great master in the art 
of imparting knowledge and discipline to the minds of 
others. He also possessed, in a remarkable degi^ee, the 
power of awakening thought and kindling aspirations after 
excellence. On assuming the presidency of the college, 
he had introduced a system, both of instruction and dis- 
cipline, far more thorough and exact than had before 
prevailed there, or was common in any of our colleges fifty 
years ago. The younger officers, in my time, had been 
trained to this system while they were undergraduates ; 
and I well remember the lively interest v/hich Dr. Way- 
land used to manifest, when I was a tutor, in all our efforts 
to maintain it. He perfectly appreciated the difference 
between genuine teaching and all its manifold imitations, 
and he would never tolerate anything that aimed to sub- 
stitute the appearance for the reality. He detested shams 
of all sorts, and had no respect for those who were willing 
to resort to them. On the other hand, he held work in 
very high esteem, whether in officer or in student ; and he 
wished to have that work done by both as thoroughly and 
as liberally as possible. 

" The system of instruction which he introduced made 
it necessary, not only that the general subject, but also the 
particular lesson of the day, should be in the mind both 
of the teacher and the pupil. He paid particular atten- 
tion to all the examinations, and judged of the success 
of every instructor, and also of his style of instruction, 
very much b}- the manner in which the members of a 



class acquitted themselves on these occasions. By pur- 
suing this course, the college soon came to have a standard 
of its own, which was always before us, and attended 
us as a perpetual presence, from term to term, and from 
year to year. It was a standard, moreover, which at 
length came to be as distinctly recognized by the students 
as by the instructors themselves. 

" 3. The laws and usages of our college have placed 
a larger authority in the hands of the president, and have 
made him personally responsible for its management in 
a greater degree than is true of most other colleges. 
But, at the same time, it was the habit of Dr. Wayland 
to consult very freely with members of the Faculty respect- 
ing every measure of importance relating either to the 
internal or the external affairs of the institution. The 
changes inaugurated in 1S50, and known as the ' new sys- 
tem,' sprang from his own reflections and inquiries con- 
cerning the proper functions of higher education, and, as 
such, were submitted to the corporation, and received 
their sanction. But until that time I do not recall a 
single instance in which the nomination of an otlicer, 
whether professor or tutor, was made to the corporation 
without the advice of the Faculty, or in which any meas- 
ure of importance that concerned the interests of the col- 
lege was decided upon w'ithout their sanction and cooper- 
ation. He regarded our common position as, in some 
sort, a partnership, in the management of which all should 
have a voice, at least in the way of counsel, if not of legal 

" 4. In matters of discipline in our respective spheres, 
he favored the fullest exercise of personal authority on the 
part of every member of the Faculty, and he invariably 
gave his own official support to what another had found 
it necessary to do. He encouraged no appeals from pro- 
fessors or tutors to the president. No fear was felt, on the 
part of either, that he would ever seek to promote his 
own popularity or comfort at the expense of that of his 
associates. His standing direction, even to the youngest 
oflicers, invariably was, that they should first exhaust their 
own resources in every case of discipline which arose in 
tlieir classes, and bring it to his attention only when they 
had failed to adjust it for themselves. Whenever it be- 
came necessary, he bore unflinchingly and magnanimously 


the odium of every measure, no matter what was its 
origin, which the good of the college seemed to require. 
He especially deplored a bad precedent in administration, 
and had a genuine dread of the vicious example and 
the contagion of idleness among students. He often told 
us that we should be ashamed to meet our pupils in after 
life, if we had suffered them to waste their time without 
restraint, or to ruin themselves by unreproved dissipa- 

" 5. Dr. Wayland was at no period of his life what 
is called a man of society. His habits were those of a 
man of thought and of recluse study. But he possessed 
in an unusual degree the endowments and the resources 
which are required for the fullest enjoyment and the 
largest influence in cultivated society. His conversa- 
tional powers were of a high order. He had a vast fund 
of wit, anecdote, and interesting knowledge ; such as 
have often given celebrity to literary men as ' Table Talk- 
ers,' or as prominent members of social circles. I have 
seen him when he appeared to the greatest advantage in 
the company of distinguished men and brilliant women ; 
but he lived too habitually apart from such scenes to 
mingle in them with the fullest zest. It is possible that 
his constant devotion to work, and his earnest views of 
life, may have- been somewhat unfriendly to the perfect 
development of his rare social powers. His attachments 
and sympathies, however, were very strong, and they con- 
stantly prompted him to seek the genial intercourse of 
other and kindred minds. He was also, at all periods 
of his life, much given to having intimate friends, vv'ith 
whom he freely counselled and communed. Most of his 
social intercourse was probably at his own home, where 
he was accustomed to dispense a liberal hospitality, and 
where he frequently gathered around him those in whose 
society he most delighted. He was, moreover, very mind- 
ful of the social duties incident to his position as presi- 
dent. He entertained, in some way or other, most of the 
persons of literary distinction who visited Providence from 
abroad, and constantly invited to his house his brethren 
in the ministry, and those who came to consult him in 
connection with matters pertaining to the college. 

" But it is of his social relations with the officers of the 
university that you desire me more especially to write. 



To them all, I may say, his house was a place of frequent 
and familiar resort, although his relations to them diftered 
with different persons in their degrees of intimacy. To 
the younger members of the Faculty, I remember, he was 
particuhu'ly attentive, and ever mindful of the solitary life 
they led, residing, as they did at that time, within the 
walls of the college. 

" In those earlier days we dined with him almost al- 
Vv^ays on Saturdays. Very often, after evening meetings 
of the Faculty, which, I believe, are everywhere con- 
sidered the most stupid of conclaves, he would invite us 
to remain at his house, and share in some extemporized 
entertainment, as an offset to the weary routine of college 
affairs. In many other ways, also, did he bind his asso- 
ciates to him in the daily intercourse of life. Even in his 
busiest days he was always accessible for consultation in 
every professional perplexity. Indeed I have never known 
a man so full of generous sympathies and ready consola- 
tion for every personal trouble or sorrow. 

" In the summer season his early morning hours, and 
sometimes those at the close of the day, were spent in his 
garden, among the vegetables, and flowers, and fruits, 
which he cultivated very largely, with his own hands, with 
a skill and success that awakened universal admiration. 
He took great pleasure and pride in these products of his 
industry, and was always delighted, when, as very often 
happened, he excelled any of the professional gardeners 
of the neighborhood. His familiar friends, and especial- 
ly members of the Faculty, were in the habit of visiting 
his garden very frequently ; and he was never happier or 
more genial than when narrating passages of his horti- 
cultural experience, or calling attention to some curious 
process of nature which he had observed, or pointing out 
the prospective yield which promised to reward his la- 
bors. He usually had, according to the progress of the 
season, some beautiful flower, some luxuriant vegetable 
growth, or some ripening fruit, to commend to the notice 
of the visitor. He never failed to embrace such an oppor- 
tunity to illustrate the bounties of nature. Sometimes 
also the traces of noxious insects would naturally suggest 
to him reflections concerning the origin and purpose of 
evil in the world. Those persons who never visited Dr. 
Wayland in his garden in the summer or autumn, have 


failed to see him in one of his most interesting and char- 
acteristic moods. 

" At other seasons of the year he was exceedingly fond 
of walking in the country, always seeking companion- 
ship on such occasions. The evening prayers of the col- 
lege, until they were abolished in 1850, were invariably 
at five o'clock. On the dismissal of the students, he 
would very commonly summon some of us to join him in 
the walk to the Seekonk River, going by one road and re- 
turning by the other. This had always been the favorite 
walk of academics, both young and old, and the banks of 
the Seekonk are associated with the college memories of 
every generation of students. Although now, for much of 
the way, lined with houses, and the popular drive of the 
wealth and fashion of the town, this ancient road, five and 
twenty or thirty years ago, was rural and secluded, full 
of attractive scenery of meadow and grotto, of wooded 
hill and flowing river, and pervaded throughout its whole 
extent with the tranquillity always so grateful to reflective 
and studious minds. 

" In these walks, which were continued through many 
years, he would often do all the talking himself, especially 
when accompanied only by his juniors ; sometimes on a 
question suggested by a companion, sometimes opening 
the results of his own recent reading, or perhaps recalling, 
in connection with the public incidents of the time, anec- 
dotes, stories, and reminiscences of well-known characters, 
with which his mind was largely stored. Grave as were 
his daily studies, and serious as was his habitual tone of 
thought, those who mingled thus freely in his society 
amidst the scenes to which I have alluded, knew him to 
be exceedingly fond of both humor and of wit, and to 
be capable of a mirthfulness that was in singular contrast 
with other moods of his mind. He had a remarkable 
memory of anecdotes and incidents, of passages of litera- 
ture and images of every kind which savored of the ludi- 
crous ; and the slightest occasion would often call them 
forth in long succession, with the utmost merriment to 
himself, as well as to others. He had read, in his day, 
a great deal of light literature, although he had no foncy 
for such as is now most in vogue. I remember being 
much with him, long ago, at a time when he was sufler- 
ing from an affection of the eyes, and being surprised at 


his extensive and varied acquaintance with the Enghsh 
poets. He not only knew all that was worth remember- 
ing in Young and Cowper, but he could repeat from 
memory many of the best passages of Goldsmith, Burns, 
and Scott. He was also unusually familiar with the son- 
nets of Milton and Shakspeare, as well as with their 
grander works. A little later than this he wrote and 
presented to a friend a brief critique on the minor poems 
of Milton, which, if it could now be found, might be 
ranked among his best executed pieces of composition. 
His familiarity with such literature, although not very 
extensive, was yet so thorough as to be available alike 
in conversation and in the work of instruction ; and it 
added greatly to his resources in both, while at the same 
time it revealed to his familiar associates a class of tastes 
and a phase of character which those who knew him 
only as a moralist and theologian did not imagine that he 

" But I must close these reminiscences of my early 
instructor and life-long friend. I might greatly prolong 
them, for I delight to recall the earnestness and genuine- 
ness which made themselves felt in every circle in which 
he moved, the richness and instructiveness that marked 
his conversation, and the varied phases of his many-sided 
character that seemed to have touched human life at so 
many different points. It is, however, far easier to recall 
all these than it is to describe them ; and I fear that, after 
all, I have done but little towards making him understood 
by those who did not know him before." 

At a meeting of the graduates of Brown University, on 
the occasion of Dr. Wayland's decease, Dr. Caswell — a 
member of the Faculty from 1S2S to 1S64, said, — 

" I was associated with Dr. Wayland for nearly thirty 
years ; and, during that time, perhaps no day passed with- 
out our meeting and chatting upon some subject connected 
with the college, or with the church, or with the missions, 
or with the charities in our communitv. And tliough 
there were subjects, religious, political, and scientific, 
wherein we differed, yet I may say that, during that whole 
period, there never was an interruption in the confidential 
relations existing between us. 


" So for as I can recollect, there was but one occa- 
sion on which I felt in the least hurt by anything which 
Dr. Wayland did, or in which I felt that there was 
any want of kindness or consideration. There was one 
such occasion. I did not understand his course. Our 
intercourse had been such that I was unwilling to allow 
any misunderstanding without seeking an open explana- 
tion. Mv own nature would not allow me to hold any 
position that was ambiguous ; and I went to Dr. Wayland 
and told him how I felt. He turned to me and said, 
' Caswell, I never meant it. I would not hurt your feel- 
ings for the world.' Never have I had so intimate inter- 
course with a man, continued with such uniform kindness. 
I have been with him in his own deep affliction — he has 
been with me in mine ; and his spontaneous sympathy 
was always that of a brother, and 1 feel this day as 
though I had lost a brother." 

We should do obvious injustice to the character of Dr. 
Wayland, as an educator, if we did not make some allu- 
sion to the tendency of his teachings. From what has 
already been said in reference to his j^eculiar method of 
instruction, our readers will have no difficulty in believing 
that he encouraged and inculcated independent and exact 
thinking on the part of his pupils. He constantly cau- 
tioned his classes against extensive reading, if unaccom- 
panied by serious and patient reflection, frequently quoting 
the saying of Dr. Arnold to his scholars, " Young gentle- 
men, you come here not so much to read, as to learn how 
to read." 

One of his pupils, a young man of fine abilities, was in 
danger of contracting habits of moral and mental dissipa- 
tion, from a fondness for social indulgence and desultory 
reading. The president went to his room one day, and 
said to him, " C, you seem to be fond of poetry. Now, 
here is a volume of poems which I think you will enjoy. 
Suppose you read it." The young man, appreciating the 
attention thus paid him, and touched by the interest in 
him which it indicated, willingly followed the advice of 


his instructor, and a literary taste was awakened which 
had a powerful effect in leading him to a high standard 
of scholarship and character. 

Several years later a student, who had not yet come 
under Dr. Wayland's personal instruction, was wasting 
his time in idleness, or in worse than useless reading. 
The president, after conversing with him kindly, said, 
" Here is Boswell's Life of Johnson. Take it to your 
room, read it carefully, write out your impressions of it, 
and then come and see me again." When the pupil 
returned the volume he was a new man. His mental 
reformation had commenced. Works of fiction had lost 
their attraction for him. He devoted himself to his studies 
with earnest purpose, and left college with an enviable 
reputation as a scholar. He became eminent alike in his 
profession and in literature, and has ever ascribed his 
intellectual salvation to the timely and pai'ental counsels 
of Dr. Way land. 

He did not seek to put certain views into the mind of 
the pupil, but to call out and develop his original powers ; 
to make each one a man of independent thought. A 
member of the class of 1845 observes, " Six words which 
Dr. Wayland once said to the Senior class wei'e worth 
iTiore than any words ever addressed to me — 'Young 
gentlemen, cherish your own conceptions.'" The closing 
words of the chapter on " Taste," in his Intellectual 
Philosophy, are in a similar spirit : — 

'• In studying the works of others for our own improve- 
ment, one caution is to be observed. They are the pro- 
duction of fallible men, like ourselves. We are, there- 
fore, to bring to the examination of every work of art the 
exercise of a calm, discriminating judgment, prepared to 
distinguish beauty from deformity wherever they exist. 
We must exei'cise our own taste, if we would cultivate 
our sensitive nature. When we study the works of others 
to awaken our own sensibilities, to correct our errors, and 
to arouse ourselves to emulation, we develop our own 


faculties. But if we study only to bow before a master as 
we would worship our Creator, we become servile copy- 
ists and degraded idolaters. It is not impossible that our 
veneration for the ancients has in some degree produced 
this effect upon modern litei-ature. . . . To study the works 
of others that we may be able to equal them, cultivates 
the power of original creation. To study them only that 
we may learn how to do feebly what they have done well, 
is fatal to all mental development, and must consign an 
individual, or an age, to the position of despairing and 
wondering mediocrity." 

The following letters to a former pupil have a similar 
tendency : — 

"... The difference between a man who uses his own 
mind and the man who merely deals out what he has 
learned is as great as the difference between putting your 
hand into the fire and taking it out again. I do not wish 
you to go over the course as a well-trained charger, but 
like Scott's stag, — 

' Stretching forward free and far 
Seek the wild heaths of Uam Van' 

Where Uam Var is, I neither know nor care ; but if a man 
stretches ' forward free and far,' he will surely come out 

"... You have now entered upon that portion of your 
life when every day counts. Your mind should by this 
time have attained to a good degree of ripeness, and you 
ought to be preparing to go alone ; to form your own 
judgments on events and conduct, and to be daily increas- 
ing in all sound knowledge. I say sound knowledge, as 
the time for frivolous pui'suits is surely past. You should 
strive to cultivate your own mind, not merely by acquisi- 
tion, but by so learning as to call forth and strengthen 
your original powers. You must not aim merely to use 
your intellectual instrument, but to perfect it by use ; the 
latter being by far the most important consideration." 

His fondness for the analytical method of teaching 
arose, in large measure, from his conviction that in no 
other way could the habit of logical thinking, and the 


power of concentrating all the mental faculties upon a 
given subject, be so surely and so speedily acquired. He 
was unwearied in urging his pupils never to write or 
speak until they knew precisely what they wished to 
say, and in what order they could say it with the great- 
est possible effect. 

Counselling a young friend upon this point, hcionce 
observed, — 

" Were I to advise you on this subject, I should say, 
Study your plans thoroughly, sketch them out briefly, and 
reflect upon them carefully, before you write. Do not be- 
gin the work of composition until you have thought the 
matter well through, and so revised and corrected as to be 
well satisfied with it. Then, and not until then, write." 

His experience as an instructor had given him abundant 
opportunities of observing how readily young men form 
the habit of speaking and writing without any definite 
purpose or well-defined aim, and it was his constant ef- 
fort to counteract this unfortunate tendency. " Always 
have some distinct point in view," was an injunction 
which he often and earnestly impressed upon his pupils. 

So much importance did he attach to this element of a 
thorough education, so essential did he consider it to em- 
inence in any profession or calling in life, that he never 
hesitated to recommend it, not only to those under his 
immediate instruction, but to all in whose success his 
personal attachment inclined him to be peculiarly inter- 
ested. Among these,was a clergyman long and favorably 
known in Providence, who says, — 

" Dr. Wayland frequently walked to church with me, 
and often sat with me in the pulpit. On such occasions 
he usually made the opening prayer. Before this exercise 
he would invariably ask me, ' What is the point of your 
sermon?' — designing to make his prayer appropriate to 
the theme of my discourse. If I could not give him a 
clear conception of what I proposed to say to my people, 
he would seem disappointed. And this led me, in time, 
to seek in each sermon for some definite idea to be pre- 


seated, some systematic and logical plan of the subject 
under consideration. If I have had any success as a 
preacher, it has been mainly due, under God, to the sug- 
gestions, in regard to the construction of my sermons, 
which I received, from time to time, from Dr. Wayland." 

In his criticisms upon the sermons and other public 
addresses of his former pupils, he never lost sight of this 
cardinal principle of all his teachings. Speaking of a 
young divine, whose sermons rarely presented any con- 
secutive train of thought, and were sadly wanting in 
directness of application, he once remarked, with a good- 
humiored twinkle of his eye, " The great difficulty about 

the preaching of is to discover precisely what he is 


Clearness of expression was, in his view, hardly less 
important than clearness of thought. His own style was 
certainly a model of simplicity. He always sought to 
convey his ideas in the fewest and j^lainest words possible. 
Both his example and his precepts were opposed to ob- 
scure and involved modes of expression. Criticising a 
composition of one of his pupils, he once said, " Avoid 
long and complicated sentences. I had sometimes to read 
over a sentence twice. No man has a right to ask this of 

At the commencement of his j^rofessional career he 
evidently cultivated his powers of imagination with much 
care. At this time his eflbrts towards his own mental 
development plainly pointed to cEsthetics. Some of his 
early published discourses are characterized by a rare 
grace of diction, frequently rising into the regions of the 
grand and sublime. There are paragraphs in his w'ritings, 
at this period of his life, which for rhetorical beauty and 
genuine eloquence can hardly be surpassed in English 

His work as an instructor, however, was necessarily of 
such a nature as to withdraw his attention more and more 

VOL. I. 20 


from the graces of style and the cultivation of the imagi- 
native faculty. He found that the only text-book then 
accessible in the department of ethics was defective and 
unsound. Incapable of teaching a system that was at 
variance with his convictions, he sought to place the sys- 
tem of morals on a truer basis and in a clearer light. 
This labor he accomplished with such eminent success, 
that, in the words of a gentleman who was under his in- 
struction during the third year of his presidency, " the 
Senior class seldom left his recitation-room, during the 
term when ethics was their study, without expressing their 
admiration at the skill and clearness with which he un- 
folded to them the elements of moral science." 

Such labors, as a matter of course, removed him each 
vear further and further from the walks of elegant litera- 
ture, and confined him more and more closely to subjects 
embraced within the domain of practical science and vigo- 
rous action.* It resulted naturally that all the weight of his 
example had its inevitable effect upon the minds of his pu- 
pils. They also gravitated towards analysis and abstract 
thought, and away from aesthetics. While it would be in- 
correct to say that the legitimate tendency of his teach- 
ings was to discourage the careful cultivation of style, it 
may be safely asserted that his pupils received a peculiarly 
strong impulse in the direction of clear statement and 
robust thinking. The vigorous logic of that renowned 
lecture-room gave tone to their intellectual efforts. 

Regarding the discipline of the faculties, rather than the 
acquisition of a given amount of knowledge, as being the 
object of a collegiate education, Dr. Wayland constantly 
aimed to call into active exercise every mental power of 
his pupils. 

* To this cause may be added the constant pressure on his time, 
created by the ever-present necessity of maintaining the temporal 
interests of the college, which left him little leisure for mental 
luxury, or purely aesthetic culture. 


If the graduates of Brown University left their alma 
mater with minds trained to exact and logical thinking, 
accustomed to habits of patient and systematic industry, 
and inspired with a generous enthusiasm to improve to 
the utmost every opportunity for moral and intellectual 
advancement, these results were greatly due to the im- 
pulse imparted in his lecture-room. In the homely and 
expressive phrase of an eminent graduate, " He would 
hold a man right down to the subject, until he had 
brought his mind to an edge." 

Another marked eflect of his instruction was to in- 
spire in his pupils an ardent love for truth. He was 
always seeking to discover some general principle in 
accordance with which every material fact in ethics 
should be classified. Such a fundamental truth, when 
once found, he followed fearlessly to its legitimate con- 
sequences. At an age when most men are satisfied with 
collecting isolated facts and recording individual experi- 
ences, he had formed the habit of dwelling long and 
frequently in the regions of abstract thought. Convic- 
tions which had not passed tlirough the analytical pro- 
■cess, opinions which he could not refer to some general 
principle, had little weight with him. What is expedient, 
what is popular, what will be likely to succeed, — did not 
long occujoy his mind. But a train of thought proceed- 
ing from correct premises and carried forward by strictly 
logical connections, he willingly embraced with the inde- 
pendence which belonged to his generous nature. Sound 
moral reasoning had for him the force of mathematical 
demonstration. He was as certain that free trade is the 
great economical law of commerce, as was Galileo that 
the earth turns on its axis and revolves around the sun. 
That slavery is a moral wrong and a political blvmder, 
was as clear to his mind as the plainest proposition ia 
Euclid. How much he valued, and how earnestly he set 
before his pupils, " the glorious privilege of being inde- 


pendent" in the cause of truth, not one who enjoyed his 
instructions can have forgotten. Resting securely on fixed 
and immutable realities, as defined by the laws of God 
and the moral nature of man, he gave little heed to the 
hasty decisions of irresponsible majorities. Scarcely a 
volume did Dr. Way land publish, scarcely a course of 
lectures did he deliver, which did not excite opposition in 
some quarter. Plis sentiments in regard to slavery were 
severely criticised by a class powerful, and even prepon- 
derating, at the time when he gave to the public his " Ele- 
ments of Moral Science." He commenced his lectures on 
political economy when party strife ran high in regard to 
some of the fundamental principles of this science ; and yet 
he seemed unaware that the public mind was excited on 
such questions. For some of the positions taken in his 
" Limits of Human Responsibility," he was fiercely as- 
sailed in the public press and in his personal correspond- 
ence. But he submitted in silence to all these complaints, 
at least so far as any public reply was concerned. Con- 
scious of the rectitude of his motives, and of his simple 
and sincere desire to inculcate only what he believed to 
be true, he was willing to await the deliberate judgment 
of his fellow-men. 

It is not surprising that this ardent and fearless attach- 
ment to truth gave him great moral influence with those 
who came under his instructions. Young as they were, 
they rarely failed to appreciate the earnestness of his con- 
victions, and his disinterested devotion to the principles 
which he had embraced. In the words of one of his pu- 
pils, — * 

" It was not necessary to follow Dr. Wayland, to be his 
admirer. It was not necessary to accept his opinions, to 
have the utmost reverence for him. A graduate a 3'ear 
older than myself, whose views upon theological and 
public questions were entirely diverse from those of Dr. 

* Hon. C. S. Bradley. 


Wayland, and whose experience and observations in life 
have been as mature, perhaps, as those of any of us, told 
me that he had never seen so great a man as Dr. Way- 
land. ]Many of us, having found ourselves in distant 
countries, in some strange city, every person around us 
unknown, with no pleasant surrounding of friends to keep 
us on our course, facing the world alone, as it were, have 
found the precepts and the ideas of life which Dr. Way- 
land had given us, to be nearest to the core of our hearts. 
They were the truths upon which we rested. 

"And what were those truths which we recall now from 
the lecture-room and the chapel? Were they not princi- 
pally these — that life was a place where w^ork was to be 
done ' as ever in the great Task-master's eye,' and that 
such work could not fail, although no signs of victory ap- 
peared in this life? 

" Do we not always feel that his simple purpose was to 
get at the truth upon every subject which he presented to 
us? Was not that the central idea of the man in teach- 
ing us not to look for enjoyment, but for the truth? 
Would he not say, as he met us, ' I ask not, my son, what 
fame or position you have acquired ; but have you sought 
the truth?'" 

Another pupil has said, — * 

" We think that one principal source of Dr. Wayland's 
personal power was the fact that his mind seemed to be, 
and was, in more direct co?itact xvith truth than is the case 
with the minds of most men. He appeared to be seeking 
for nothing else. Nothing seemed to interv'ene between his 
mind and the truth, to warp his vision or bias his judg- 

Holding this allegiance to truth, and ever seeking to 
attain to it in theory and in action, he could not content 
himself with asking what has been said, w^hat have men 
thought and believed. Everything must be brought to 
the standard of perfect rectitude. Regarding absolute 
goodness as the goal of human progress, he was eminently 

* Professor G. P. Fisher, in New Englander, January, 1866. 


" In that struggle which is ever going forward between 
the retirbig and the coniiiig under the banners of con- 
servatism and progress, in that ceaseless war which, from 
the very elements of human character and condition, must 
be waged, in one form or another, between the past and 
the future, on the battle-ground of the present. Dr. Way- 
land was always found, no less in his later than in his 
earlier years, in the advance of the party of progress. 
No man had a sublimer faith in the destinies of the race. 
No man, in anticipating those destinies, clothed them in 
the drapery of a more gorgeous imagination. The failures 
of the past could not shake his confidence in the future. 
From the mournful teachings of history even, he gathered 
an inner lesson of encouragement and hope. At no time 
had anything been really lost. The best forms of civili- 
zation which the world had seen, had, indeed, fallen into 
decay, or yielded themselves a jorey to violence ; but out 
of their ruins had emerged new civilizations, embodying 
all the best elements of the old, together with some higher 
principle, which in them was wanting. The thread of 
progress, which for a time seemed broken and turned 
backwards, reappears to guide our steps anew through the 
historic labyrinth." * 

It belonged to Dr. Wayland's nature to be intensely in 
earnest about everything which he undertook. Life with 
him was a serious business, and time was of inestimable 
value. This spirit governed his daily labors, and inspired 
his daily teachings. He could not himself be idle^ nor 
could he tolerate idleness in others. Upon instructors 
and pupils alike he ever inculcated the importance of 
patient and persistent industry. He discouraged all rel- 
axation which tended to dissipate the mind, or to unfit 
the student for the profitable emj^loyment of the hours 
which should be devoted to serious study. How often 
have we heard him quote those memorable words ad- 
dressed by the first Napoleon to the Polytechnic School : 
" Young gentlemen, never waste a half hour : if you do, 

* Commemorative Discourse of Professor Chace. 


the time will come when you will be embarrassed, and 
perhaps will fail of your destiny, for want of what you 
might have gained in that half hour." In private con- 
versation, in his occasional addresses in the college chapel, 
and often in his sermons, he was accustomed, as we have 
seen, to remind the undergraduates of their obligations 
to those parents who had furnished them with the means 
of acquiring an education, and of their accountability to 
that Creator who had endowed them with faculties capa- 
ble of indefinite improvement. 

He never wearied of urging upon young men the vital 
importance of continuous, conscientious study — of form- 
ins: the settled habit of close attention to the work in 
hand. Thus he writes to a young friend and pupil : — 

" Seek to acquire the power of continuous application, 
without which you cannot expect success. If you do this, 
you will soon be able to perceive the distance which it 
creates between you and those who have not such habits. 
You Vv^ill not count yourself, nor will they count you, as 
one of them. Thus you will find yourself emerging into 
the higher regions of intellectual and earnest men ; men 
who are capable of making a place for themselves, instead 
of standing idly gaping, desiring a place without the 
power to command it. Keep on striving to accomplish 
more and more cverv day, and thus enlarge constantly 
the range of your intellectual ability. If you learn to do 
as much work in one day as you used to do in two or 
three days, you are as good as two or three such men, as 
you formerly were, boiled down to one." 

These earnest views of human life and of moral ac- 
countability had their natural effect not less upon his 
theory of college discipline, than upon his system of in- 
struction. If his discipline seemed severe, it was only 
because he never lost sight of the grave responsibilities 
of his position. He could not consider any case of mis- 
conduct, any violation of college laws, without, at the 
same time, weighing the moral tendency of the oftence. 


He could not forget how much the four years spent in 
college contribute to form the character and determine 
the destiny of a young man. He was keenly alive to the 
injurious effects of evil example, and knew, by a certain 
rare and instinctive knowledge of human nature, how 
and when these dangerous influences could be most ef- 
fectually counteracted or removed. 

lie felt that he had a duty to perform as well to the 
offending pupil as to his innocent comrades ; and when 
there seemed to be no reasonable hope of reclaiming the 
culprit, he did not hesitate to terminate his connection 
with the college. And it naturally resulted that, — 

" As his moral power predominated over his intellectu- 
al, he was more successful both in investigating and in 
teaching moral than intellectual philosophy. The laws 
of conscience ; the heinousnessand the fatal results of sin ; 
the unchangeableness of the divine lav.'s ; the immutable- 
ness of right ; the power of habit ; the right of every man 
to himself, and the consequent wrong of human slavery ; 
the paramount duty of every man to develop his faculties 
to the utmost, and to live to the glory and honor of God, 
— these and kindred topics were discussed with such clear- 
ness and force, and illustrated so variously and so aptly, 
that we believe it to be literally true that no student, 
however thoughtless, ever pursued the study of moral 
philosophy under Dr. Wayland without receiving positive 
moral impressions which remained through life. You 
can hardly find one of his pupils who cannot repeat 
memorable utterances of the teacher, which have been to 
him maxims throughout his career. His original mind 
naturally coined striking and sententious expressions, 
which clung to the memory of his hearers. How many 
of the graduates of Brown University have we heard say, 
with grateful liearts, that they owe their success in life 
more to the intellectual and moral training they received 
from Dr. Wayland, than to any or all other causes ! To 
his exalted standard of duty he held others with a strenu- 
ousness which sometimes seemed too severe. But he 
held himself as rigidly up to the same standard. Like all 


strong men, he maintained his beliefs with such positive- 
ness, that his opponents sometimes deemed him unjust to 
them. He was by no means lacking, as some have sup- 
posed, in sensitiveness to the approbation of his fellow- 
man. But he loved truth and duty better than human 
praise. Having carefully determined what he thought to 
be right, he would cling to that in the face of the whole 
world. He pursued his course so eagerly that he some- 
times jostled, rather rudely, those who crossed his path. 
But it was only because he was so intent upon discharging 
his duty. No man was more desirous of doing full justice 
to the opinions of others. No one was more ready to ac- 
knowledge his error, and to change, when convinced that 
he was in error." * 

In a review of Stanley's Life and Correspondence of 
Thomas x\rnold, in the North American Review for Octo- 
ber, 1S44, Dr. Wayland eulogizes the characteristics of 
that eminent educator in language which sets forth with 
singular exactness his own ideal of a successful teacher 
of youth : — 

" When he went to Latham he adopted education as 
his profession. This determination effected a great change 
in his character. It brought upon him definite intellec- 
tual and moral responsibilities, which he strengthened 
himself to the utmost to sustain. He took large and very 
grave views of the field of duty upon which he had en- 
tered, and he resolved to occupy it without shrinking. 
He devoted himself without stint to the intellectual culti- 
vation of his pupils. He sought to improve in the high- 
est degree every one committed to his charge. Hence he 
was employed with great industry in enlarging his own 
mental resources. 

" But, above all, he deemed it his duty to prepare his 
pupils for heaven. He felt that he must teach them by 
example as well as precept, if he desired his instructions 
to have any salutary effect. Hence all his moral powers 
received fresh energy from the circumstances in which he 

* President J. B. Angell, of the University of Vermont, in Hours 
at Home for December, 1S65. 


was placed. He was always setting before his boys the 
highest motives of Christian conduct ; and these motives 
had the more commanding efficacy from the fact that 
their instructor was himself striving to be the exemplar 
of all that he inculcated." 

We are but too well aware that we have most imper- 
fectly presented the characteristics of Dr. Wayland as an 
instructor, and that those who never enjoyed the benefit 
of his teachings, or have never been themselves engaged 
in the work of instruction, may still find it difficult to 
discover the secret of his influence over young men, or 
adequately to appreciate his labors in the cause of educa- 
tion. The daily trials and perplexities incident to such 
a calling ; the difiiculty of dealing wisely and justly with 
indolent or wayward pupils ; the importance of deciding 
every case of discipline in such a manner that, while due 
allowance is made for the inexperience of youth, a dan- 
gerous precedent may be avoided ; the frequent and often 
painful intei'views with parents and guardians ; the labor 
of preparation for the exercises of the recitation-room, 
keeping pace with the progress of science, and embracing 
the ever-widening area of human knowledge ; the varied 
and often delicate questions, which must arise from time 
to time, involving the respective rights and duties of asso- 
ciate instructors ; and, above all, the vast responsibility 
of preparing the young, not only for usefulness in this 
life, but for happiness in the life to come, — all these and 
many kindred duties and cares of the teacher who labors 
in the fear of God, can be estimated at their true value 
only by the honored few who have devoted themselves 
with faithful and conscientious zeal to the cause in which 
he spent the best years of his life. 

And yet it cannot be doubted that the graduates of Brown 
University, during the administration of President Way- 
land, will most heartily respond to the sentiments with 


which he conckided his remarks at the centennial anni- 
versary, to which allusion has already been made. 

" Let me say, in a word, that I cannot express the 
pleasure I feel at seeing myself surrounded by such a 
number of my former pupils, in every one of whom I 
recognize a friend. I know, as I look upon your faces at 
this moment, that there is not one of you who does not 
believe, tliat, notwithstanding my many imperfections, 
my paramount motive was an honest intention to promote 
your highest and best good." 







WE have already referred to the earnest efforts 
which Dr. Wayland made, from the earhest 
years of his presidency, to improve the quahty of the in- 
struction imparted in the university, and to increase the 
faciHties for acquiring knowledge. As we have seen, he 
found the institution poorly equipped for its work, with 
a small, ill-selected library, rarely used by students, and 
furnishing little assistance to the occasional visitor ; with 
chemical and philosophical apparatus ludicrously inade- 
quate (even tested by the low standard of that day) to the 
just requirements of a New England college. 

He at once undertook to remedy these grave defects. 
By correspondence, by personal solicitation, by commu- 
nications to the press, and by every legitimate method, he 
sought to interest the friends of the university and the 
public generally, in a subject so vital to the true interests 
of the college. At a meeting of the friends of Brown 
University, held in the summer of 1832, for the purpose 
of seconding the efforts then making to secure a perma- 
nent fund for the benefit of the library, and to provide 
suitable apparatus, addresses were made by several gen- 
tlemen in behalf of the proposed object. The remarks 
made by President Wayland, on this occasion, exhibited 
so broad, generous, and far-sighted a view of the kind of 


education adapted to the wants of this country, and stated 
so clearly the general principles which should lie at the 
foundation of all schemes for providing this education, that 
we make no apology for quoting the address in full. 

" All efforts for intellectual improvement are compre- 
hended under two classes : first, efforts for the advance- 
ment of science ; and, secondly, for its universal diffusion. 
In the first instance, we enter the domain of knowledge, 
and discover the laws of the universe ; and in the second, 
we put the knowledge thus attained within the reach of 
every grade of society. It is to the second of these objects 
that the labors of this country have been directed. We 
have established common schools in every portion of the 
older states, and by means of them the facilities for acquir- 
ing elementary education have been abundant. 

" For the actual advancement of science, however, we 
have done almost nothing. We impoi-t our learning 
scantily from abroad. Even our universities have em- 
ployed themselves in the diffusion, rather than in the 
advancement, of science ; and even for this comparatively 
humble effort they are but ill prepared. Our universities 
and colleges are, at present, knowni principally by the 
number and magnitude of their edifices. If the student 
wishes to push his inquiries beyond the ordinary routine 
of instruction, where shall he go, in our country, for the 
means of information? If he enter our college halls and 
ask for books, he is shown long rows of lodging-rooms. 
If he inquire for instruments for philosophical research, 
he is pointed to large piles of brick and mortar. If the 
teacher desire to investigate truth for himself, and cooper- 
ate with the learned men of Europe, wdiere, in this coun- 
try, can he go to avail himself of the researches of past 

" The humiliating answer is found in the fact that in 
each of the learned professions the most valuable books 
with which we enrich our libraries could not have been 
written here, because the knowledge which they embody 
could not have been found in America. 

" And besides, instructors cannot furnish themselves 
with libraries ; their incomes do not admit of it ; nor can 
such a library as the cause of science demands, be collected 
in a single lifetime. It must be the accumulated wisdom 


of past ages added to our own. Such a library can be 
procured only by public munificence, and by that munifi- 
cence so directed as to collect from time to time the rich 
results of the intellectual labor of man. 

" It is, however, cheering to observe that other institu- 
tions of learning are aware of the importance of the subject, 
and are employing all the means in their power for the 
substantial advancement of science. Harvard University 
is appropriating five thousand dollars per annum to the 
increase of her library, already the most valuable of any 
possessed by any university in the United States. Yale 
College is raising a fund of one hundred thousand dollars 
for these and similar purposes. Is it not time that we fol- 
lowed such noble examples, and, as citizens of the Re- 
public of Letters, contributed our portion towards the 
intellectual advancement of our country ? " 

Allusion having been made by a subsequent speaker to 
the importance of making the college library accessible to 
all. Dr. Wayland further said, — 

" That he had heard with great pleasure the allusion of 
Judge P. to the importance of having the library, under 
proper restrictions, perfectly accessible both to professional 
inen and to all persons who wish to consult it upon scien- 
tific subjects. Science was in its very nature diffusive. 
A library should be a source of intellectual illumination, 
not to one class of inen only, but to all men who were 
disposed to profit by it. The only laws regulating its use 
should be designed to prevent its abuse and extend its 
utility. Such had always been his sentiments, and such, 
so far as his power had permitted, had been his practice. 
He pledged himself to cooperate cheerfully with his friend 
Judge P. in such arrangements as would render the pres- 
ent effort the most efficient means possible for promoting 
the scientific and professional advancement of the city." * 

The amount obtained in response to this application, 
and to the untiring efforts of President Wayland, Dr. 
Caswell, and other ardent friends of the college, was 
nearly twenty thousand dollars. This sum was put at in- 

* Providence Daily Journal, June i6th, 1832. 


terest until it had increased to twenty-five thousand dol- 
lars ; constituting what has since been known as the " Li- 
brary Fund." The interest of this fund (which we be- 
lieve has never been increased) has been devoted to the 
purchase of books and to the improvement of the chemical 
and philosophical apparatus. 

Dr. Wayland believed that it was the business of a col- 
lege to furnish the best, and not the cheapest, education. 
While, therefore, he never hesitated to appeal most earnest- 
ly to the community in which he lived, and to all persons 
on whom the college might be supposed to have a claim, 
for funds to be expended in such a manner as to increase 
the facilities for acquiring knowledge, he never encour- 
aged the foundation of scholarships, nor any of the numer- 
ous devices for bribing young men to accept a collegiate 

In a letter to a friend, written during the second year 
of his presidency, he says, — 

" You may have seen that I have been attacked in the 
newspapers. Some vcr}' untrue statements have been made 
in these attacks. To all this I answer, I acknowledge 
not the jurisdiction.* A few matters of fact have been so 
stated, that I may, perhaps, in due time, enter a denial ; 
but of this I am not certain. We shall have as many stu- 
dents as I care for at present, and meanwhile the college 
is gaining ground abroad. If we get the students, and 
teach them well, we can afford a little abuse of this sort. 
I have caused notice to be published that provision has 
been made for defraying the tuition of thirty-five benefi- 
ciaries in this institution. It is a mode of operation gen- 

* In illustration of his indifference to the attacks which from 
time to time were made upon Dr. Wajland by the press, we give 
an extract from a letter written to a friend, in allusion to an un- 
founded and even calumnious charge against him, which had 
some currency in the newspapers of that day: "I had repeatedly 
seen the article which you sent me, but I reallj' did not think it 
worth an answer. I assumed that those who knew anything of 
me would not believe it, and that it would sooner die away by 
being let alone." 


erally, or rather universally, resorted to nowadays. I am 
strongly opposed to the policy, but I yield to the present 
emergency, and I hope only for the present. A college 
education ought to be good enough to be worth having, 
and not such that you are glad to give it away." * 

Fortunately for the welfare of the college, the zeal of 
Dr. Wayland quickened the liberality of one of its most 
generous friends. In 1S34 the Hon. Nicholas Brown, of 
Providence, to whose enlightened benevolence and intelli- 
gent interest in education Brown University owes so much 
of its success, caused an appropriate and tasteful building 
to be erected at his own expense, designed to be used as a 
library and chapel. To this edifice the name of Manning 
Hall was given, in honor of the first president of the 

The dedication discourse was delivered by President 
Wayland, February 4, 1S35. Ever controlled by a pro- 
found conviction that all mental training which does not 
fully recognize our moral obligations, and does not in- 
spire the soul with sentiments of devout gratitude to the 
Author and Source of knowledge, is fatally defective 
as a preparation for the duties of active life, and for the 
future destiny of an immortal being, — that the most costly 
appliances of education, and the most untiring industry 
expended in scientific research, must fall far short of pro- 
ducing their noblest results, unless sanctified by a humble 
reliance upon omniscient wisdom, — Dr. Wayland selected 
as the theme of his discourse, the " Dependence of Science 
upon Revealed Religion." 

We quote the concluding paragraphs of the address. 

* In the opinion of Dr. Wajland, if a man has such intellec- 
tual and moral qualities as promise to render his high culture a 
blessing to himself and to the community, it is a duty to see that 
he has the means of procuring education. What he objected to, 
if we rightly apprehend his meaning, was making poverty the 
sole qualification for aid, without regard to mental and moral 


" If I have succeeded, even though imperfectly, in the 
illustration which I have attempted, I have shown that 
revealed religion, so far as the individual is concerned, is 
the warmest friend to the cultivation of science, the most 
strenuous advocate for the universal promulgation of truth ; 
and that, in so far as society is concerned, it has given ex- 
istence to that state of civilization in which alone science 
can exist ; and that only by its aid can society be so car- 
ried forward as to allow of indefinite scientific progress. 

" The result from all this, so far as it respects the pres- 
ent occasion, may be stated in very few words. 

" If such be the fiict, a large portion of the duty of every 
instructor of youth must be the inculcation of religious 
principles upon the minds of those committed to his 
charge. He would be wanting in the discharge of his 
obligations to science, not less than in the discharge of his 
obligations to God, if, while he stimulated, by increasing 
knowledge, the impulsive powers of man, he did not also 
strengthen the restraining principles by which alone that 
knowledge can be made a blessing, either to its possessor 
or to mankind. Specially imperative is this obligation at 
the present time, when in our own country, as well as in 
others, the social fabric is already tottering under the 
assaults of passion, I fear, too strong for the barriers that 
surround it. 

" And, again, if all this be so, how appropriate is it 
that we daily commend to the protection and blessing of 
Almighty God the youth committed to our charge, the 
welfare of this university whose servants we are, and the 
interests of science throughout the earth ! And especially 
is it seemly, that, while in devout gratitude we acknowl- 
edge every additional means of usefulness which we re- 
ceive from his hand, we should, first of all, consecrate 
whatever he has given us to the glory of Him who is the 
sole and underived author of good to ever3thing that ex- 
ists. This is the purpose ibr which we are assembled. 
Let us, then, unite in prayer while we dedicate this edi- 
fice to the service and glory of Almighty God." 

The educational labors of Dr. Wayland were by no 

means confined to Brown University, or to the cause of 

collegiate instruction. Every department of teaching 

awakened his deep and earnest interest. Nor was this 
VOL. I. 21 


interest theoretical only, confined to general statements, 
but leading to no practical results. With him to feel was 
to act. Consequently the common school, the high school, 
and the academy, all found in him a sympathizing friend, 
a wise counsellor, and a most efficient helper. He had 
held his presidential office but about a year, when he was 
appointed chairman of a committee of citizens, " to whom 
was referred the consideration of the present school 
system of the town of Providence." This committee 
were " directed to recommend such alterations and im- 
provements as they might deem necessary." In April, 
1828, the committee made a report prepared by Dr. 
Wayland, which is printed in the American Journal of 
Education for July, 1828. In the remarks introducing the 
report to the readers of the Journal, the editor says, — 

"We have already had occasion to mention it as one 
of the most valuable expositions hitherto made of a system 
of public schools adapted to the actual circumstances of 
society. The report has been drawn up after a careful 
inspection of the school system of Boston, both in respect 
to the gradation of the schools, and the methods of instruc- 
tion adopted in them. It forms, accordingly, a useful doc- 
ument for reference, whether for information relating to 
plans of arrangement for public education, or for direct 
assistance in teaching. School committees and teachers 
will derive equal benefit from a perusal of it. 

"We would recommend to the particular attention of 
our readers the just and practical observations on the true 
policy of communities in relation to common education, 
and, especially, the remarks on elementary and high 
schools. The comparative view of methods of instruction 
is also worthy of peculiar notice, as presenting the results 
of close observation and judicious I'eflection on topics about 
which there still exists a diversity of opinion among teach- 
ers. In the leading name of the committee (whose sig- 
natures are appended to the report), our readers will 
recognize that of an ardent and distinguished friend to 
popular improvement, whom they will, with increased 
pleasure, observe devoting himself, with his accustomed 
energy, to one of the most useful labors of an enlightened 



In this report the attention of the municipal authorities 
was earnestly directed to the principles which should con- 
trol a system of public schools, the expenses of which were 
to be defrayed by a general taxation of the property of the 
community. The report also considered the character 
and quality of schools demanded by the nature of our 
republican form of government ; the defects of previous 
and existing systems of public education, with reference 
to the gradation of schools ; the measures proper to be 
adopted with a view to the removal of these defects ; the 
mode of instruction suitable to such schools ; the benefi- 
cial results to be anticipated from a system of rewards ; 
the kind of text-books required for the wise instruction of 
the young ; and the importance of maintaining a careful 
and constant supervision of the schools by a competent 
board of visitors. 

The report was accepted, and its recommendations 
were favorably received and promjotly put in practice. 
While we cheerfully accord to the gentlemen, who united 
with Dr. Wayland in this effort to improve the system of 
public schools in Providence, the praise to which they are 
most justly entitled, it may yet be said, without disparage- 
ment to any of them, that the controlling influence of the 
chairman of the committee in devising a plan for the 
permanent elevation of the system of schools to a higher 
standard, and in stimulating the public to adopt and sus- 
tain it, was gratefully acknowledged b}' the entire com- 

In 1S27 he laid before the General Assembly of Rhode 
Island a plan for organizing a system of free schools 
throughout the state. Other gentlemen gave most effi- 
cient aid in the same direction, and at the January session 
of 1828 the proposed design received the needed legislative 
sanction. Dr. Wayland's interest in this cause continued 
to the close of his life. 

" In the diversified plans and agencies by which the 


commissioner of public schools (Hon. Henry Barnard) 
labored, from 1S43 to 1S49, to interest parents, teachers, 
and school officers in the great work of organizing an 
efficient system of public instruction for Rhode Island, 
Dr. Wayland gave his active counsel and cooperation. 
He was as ready to assist in a meeting of the Rhode Island 
Institute of Instruction at Kingston, or at the dedication 
of a school-house at Chepachet, as to address the Ameri- 
can Institute at Boston, or to take part in the celebration 
of the founding of a college or a theological seminary." * 

The generous interest which Dr. Wayland felt in the 
cause of education was not confined to the limits of his 
adopted state. Education, in its best and highest sense, he 
regarded as cosmopolitan. He aimed at nothing less than 
the mental and moral elevation of the whole human race. 
By his life-long devotion to the cause of home and foreign 
missions, he gave abundant evidence of his love for the 
souls of his fellow-men ; and by his untiring efforts to 
promote the diffusion of general education, he manifested 
his anxiety for their intellectual development. 

He was one of the founders of the "American Institute 
of Instruction " — an organization which has been exceed- 
ingly useful in promoting education, not only in this coun- 
try, but throughout the world. He delivered the opening 
address at the first public meeting of the " Institute " — a 
discourse " which produced a deeper impression on the 
friends of education than any which had ever been pro- 
nounced on the same subject in America." He was 
chosen the first president of the association, and for some 
years not only presided at its annual meetings, but took 
an active part in all its deliberations. 

At the annual meeting of the Institute, held in Boston, 
August 22, 1S33, Dr. Wayland resigned the presidency of 
the organization for which he had, from the commencement, 
manifested such a deep and abiding interest. That his 
efforts in the cause of national education did not fail to 

* Barnard's American Journal of Education. 


receive appropriate recognition from those with whom he 
had so efficiently labored, is evident from the recorded ac- 
tion of the Institute on the occasion of his resignation : — 

'•'■Resolved^ That the 'American Institute of Instruc- 
tion ' entertains the highest respect for the character of 
their late president, Dr. Wayland, and the deepest grati- 
tude to him for his early, continued, and efficient etibrts 
to promote the objects of this association. And while they 
regret that they are to be deprived of his services as a 
presiding officer, they confidently rely upon his future 
cooperation in prosecuting the great objects of the society 
which he has contributed so essentially to place before 

In further illustration of the desire of Dr. Wayland that 
the benefits of education should be universally enjoyed, 
and should be adapted to the growing wants of our coun- 
try', we may refer to an address which he delivered on the 
nth of July, 1S38, at the opening of the "Providence 
Athenaeum," the design of which was to furnish to the 
community the advantage of a large and well-selected 
library. In this address Dr. Wayland developed the ob- 
ject which the founders of this class of institutions should 
keep constantly in view, viz., " to provide the means for 
the universal diffusion of knowledge in its most extensive 
signification." Alluding to the design of the donors, he 
said, — 

" They have determined that this library shall be a 
repository for the standard English works, in every science 
with which an intelligent community would desire to be- 
come acquainted. They believe that such an institution 
should contain the intellectual aliment by which the 
genius of a Davy, an Arkwright, a Franklin, a Ritten- 
house, or a Bowditch, might be nourished. God has 
scattered the seeds of preeminent ability as profusely 
among the poor as among tlie rich. When such gifts 
perish through the want of cultivation, the loss is suffered 
by mankind. It becomes us, then, as philanthropists and 
as citizens, to provide for the whole community the means 
of cultivating, in the most perfect manner, all of the talent 
with which the Creator has enriched it. 


" Having thus provided the means for attaining a knowl- 
edge of the laivs of the universe, their next endeavor will 
be to collect the facts which its history has unfolded. It 
is their design here to provide the student with the means 
of investigating the history of man, as he is seen in every 
stage of his transition fi-om barbarism to civilization, under 
all the diversified influences of climate and situation, of 
political and religious institutions, of poverty and wealth, 
of prosperity and decline. But history would be im- 
perfectly understood without a knowledge of biography. 
Hence it is their intention to furnish the reader with a 
collection of the lives of those who, in any age, have dis- 
tinguished themselves either by profoundness of knowl- 
edge, brilliancy of achievement, or splendor of discoveiy. 
They mean that we should here have the opportunity 
of holding communion with the warriors and statesmen, 
the philosophers and scholars, the poets and orators, the 
civilians and divines, who have made their names illustri- 
ous by the changes which they have wrought in the current 
of human thought, or feeling, or action. We may thus 
be enabled to trace the most stupendous effects to their 
elementary causes, and to behold what responsibility God 
has conferred upon genius, and to observe how signally it 
is in the power of individual man to bequeath happiness 
or misery to the entire race of which he forms a part. 

" But the facts which respect man alone form but a 
small part of that knowledge which it becomes us to 
acquire. Our globe itself has been subjected to accurate 
observation, and the changes through whicli it has passed 
during the long period of its existence have been traced 
with scarcely less than philosophical accuracy. The 
vegetable productions which cover it have been examined 
and classified, their characters described, their uses ascer- 
tained, and their modes of cultivation carefully illustrated. 
The animal kingdom in all its varieties, whether inhabit- 
ing the air, the water, or the land, has, from the time of 
Aristotle, attracted the attention of the naturalist, until 
now, at last, by the labors of Cuvier, its whole extent has 
been brought within the view of the philosopher. Of the 
utility or of the attractiveness of these studies it is su- 
perfluous here to speak. I surely need not tell you how 
greatly the knowledge which they unfold conduces to the 
development of national resources, nor how admirably 


calculated are the classifications to which they are sub- 
jected to discipline and invigorate the human understand- 
ing. Aware of this, it is the intention ot the directors of 
the Athenteum to enrich their collection, as far as may be 
in their power, with works on natural science. 

" But the laws of nature, and the facts which have 
transpired, and the beings which actually exist, are far 
from being all that is comprehended within the domain 
of human knowledge. The wonder-working power of 
the imagination has created forms of awful grandeur and 
of surpassing loveliness. By the contemplation of these, 
the love of the beautiful is cultivated, the taste is refined, 
and the social sympathies are purified and ennobled. 
Hence it is the intention of the directors of this insti- 
tution to render it rich in everything, whether in prose 
or verse, whether in didactic literature or the literature 
of fiction, with which genius has ennobled our mother 

"Admittance to its privileges is designedly rendered so 
easy, that, for all practical purposes, it may, in effect, be 
declared free. It is, moreover, the design of the proprie- 
tors that it should be useful to all. While they look at 
the treasures of human thought in general., they do not 
forget that they are collecting books for men in particzi- 
lar. Hence they wisely adjust the general principles of 
their selection to the case of the community in whose be- 
half they act. They intend that there shall be no occu- 
pation, whether professional or industrial, which shall not 
here find the means both of instruction and relaxation. 
They mean to open a fountain of living water, at which 
the intellectual thirst of the wdiole community may be 

" We have arrived at a crisis in the progress of civiliza- 
tion such as, I believe, has rarely, if ever, been witnessed. 
Those nations of modern times, which have felt the im- 
pulse of the Reformation, have directed all their efforts to 
the simple object of widely disseminating the elements of 
education. Their highest aim has been to see that ' the 
schoolmaster be abroad,' and thus to enable every citizen 
to read in his mother tongue. But in New England all 
this has long since been accomplished. The schoolmaster 
here has always been at home. There is scarcely a native- 
born man, or woman, or child among us who is not able 


to read, and write, and keep accounts. The book of the 
English language, with whatever it contains of life or 
death, and whatever of these it may hereafter contain, is 
spread open before the whole community. 

" If we desire to reap the benefit of all our previous 
exertions, it must be done by carrying out the plan which 
the proprietors of the Athenaeum have adopted. Wc must 
render knowledge — valuable knowledge — accessible to 
the whole community. We must collect the treasures of 
science and literature, and throw them open to all who 
are disposed to avail themselves of their benefits. We 
must provide the means by which the light of intellect 
shall shine into every house, and pour its reviving beams 
into the bosom of every family. And, still more, we must 
act for the future. In our present state, no great object 
can be accomplished, unless we act for posterity. We 
must, therefore, lay the foundations of this institution in 
such principles that it will grow with the growth of in- 
telligence, widening and deepening the channels of its 
influence, as it passes on from age to age, more and more 
thoroughly imbuing every successive race with admiration 
of all that is great, w-ith love for all that is beautiful, and 
with reverence for all that is holy." 

In July, 1838, the avails of the Smithsonian bequest 
having been received by the United States, and Congress 
having pledged their faith for the performance of the trust 
involved in the acceptance of the legacy, letters were ad- 
dressed by the Secretary of State to several gentlemen 
prominent in the cause of education, asking their views 
" as to the mode of applying the proceeds of the bequest 
which shall be likely at once to meet the wishes of the 
testator, and prove advantageous to mankind." 

Dr. Wayland replied as follows, October 2, 1838: — 

" Sir : In reply to your communication dated July last, 
requesting my views respecting the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion I beg leave to state as follows : — 

" I, It is, I suppose, to be taken for granted that this 
institution is not intended for the benefit of any particular 
section of the United States, but of the whole country ; 


and also that no expense which maybe necessary in order 
to accomphsh its object will be spared. 

" 2. I think it also evident that there is no lack in this 
country of what may be properly termed collegiate edu- 
cation ; that is, of that education which may be given 
between the ages of fourteen or sixteen, and eighteen or 
twenty. All the old states, and many of the new ones, 
have as many institutions of this kind as their circum- 
stances require. And, besides, since persons of the ages 
specified are too young to be for a long period absent from 
home, it is probably better that a large number of such 
institutions should be established within convenient dis- 
tances of each other. The age of the pupils in these in- 
stitutions would also render it desirable that veiy large 
numbers be not associated together. 

"3. It is probable that professional schools — that is, 
schools for divinity, law, and medicine — will be estab- 
lished in every section of our country. Divinity mvist be 
left to the different Christian sects. Law will probably 
be taught in the state, or at least the district, in which 
it is to be practised. The same will, I think, be true of 

" 4. If the above views be correct, it will, I think, fol- 
low, that the proper place to be occupied by such an insti- 
tution would be the space between the close of a colle- 
giate education and a professional school. Its object 
would be to carry forward a classical and philosophical 
education beyond the point at which a college now leaves 
it, and to give instruction in the broad and philosophical 
principles of a professional education. 

" The demand for such instruction now exists very 
extensively. A considerable portion of our best scholars 
graduate as early as their nineteenth, twentieth, or twenty- 
first year. If they are sufficiently wealthy, they prefer 
to wait a year before studying their profession. Some 
travel, some read, some remain as resident graduates, and 
many more teach school for a year or two, for the pur- 
pose of reviewing their studies. These would gladly 
resort to an institution in which their time might be 
profitably employed. The rapidly increasing wealth of 
our country will very greatly increase the number of such 

" The advantages which would result from such an in- 


stitution are various. It would raise up and send abroad 
in the several professions a new grade of scholars, and 
thus greatly add to the intellectual power of the nation. 
But, especially, it would furnish teachers, professors, and 
officers of every grade, for all our other institutions. As 
the standard of education was thus raised in the colleges, 
students would enter the National University, better pre- 
pared. This would require greater effort on the part of 
its professors, and thus both would reciprocally stimulate 
each other. 

"The branches which should be taught there, I suppose, 
should be the same as in our colleges (only far more gen- 
erously taught, — that is, taught to men, and not to boys), 
and the philosophical principles of law and medicine. 
This would embrace lectures on Latin, Greek, Hebrew, 
and the Oriental languages ; all the modern languages of 
any use to the scholar, with their literature ; mathematics, 
carried as far as any one would desire to pursue them ; 
astronomy ; engineering, civil and military ; the art of 
war, beginning where it is left at West Point ; chemistry ; 
geology ; mining ; rhetoric and poetry ; political economy ; 
intellectual philosophy ; physiology, vegetable and ani- 
mal ; anatomy, human and comparative ; history ; the 
laws of nations ; and the general principles of law, the 
constitution of the United States, &c. 

" 5. Supposing such an institution to be established, 
something may be added respecting the mode of its con- 
stitution and organization. 

" I suppose, then, that an institution of this kind is a 
sort of copartnership between the instructors and the 
public. The public furnishes means of education, as 
building, libraries, apparatus, and a portion of the salary. 
The professors do the labor, and provide for the remain- 
ing part of their income by their own exertions. Hence 
there arises naturally a division of the powers and duties 
of the parties. To the corporation, or governors, or trus- 
tees, or by what name they may be called, would belong 
the management of the fiscal concerns of the institution, 
and the control of that portion of its aftairs which de- 
pended specially upon its relation with the public dona- 
tion. The government of the institution, the conferring of 
degrees, and the appointment of professors, would be per- 
formed jointly by the officers of instruction and the corpo- 


In the English vniiversities, the government of the insti- 
tution is vested in a general meeting of the former grad- 
uates. This forms a literary public, which exercises ulti- 
mate jurisdiction in most matters requiring deliberation. 
How far such an institution might be constructed upon 
this principle, may be fairly a question. 

" 6, If the above-mentioned views should be adopted, 
it will be perceived that no funds will be required for 
dormitories. The young men will provide for themselves 
board and lodgings wherever they please, and the pro- 
fessors will be responsible for nothing more than their 
education. It is to be supposed that they are old enough 
to govern themselves. 

" Hence the funds may be devoted to the following 
purposes : — 

" 1st. A part would be appropriated to the creation of a 
library, cabinets, and for the furnishing of all the apparatus 
necessary to the instructors, 

" 2d. A part to the erection of buildings for the above 
purposes, together with buildings for professors' houses. 

" 3d. A fund would be established for the endowment 
of professorships, giving to each so much as may form a 
portion (say one third, or one half) of his living, and the 
rest to be pi'ovided for by the sale of the tickets to his 

" 7. If the institution is governed by a board, this board 
should be appointed by the president and senate, or by 
the president alone ; and they should hold their offices 
for a period not longer than six years, one third of them 
retiring, ^imless reappointed, every two years. 

" 8. Graduates of the university should be allowed to 
teach classes and receive payment for tickets, upon any of 
the subjects on which instruction is given in the regular 
course. This will prove a strong stimulant to the regular 
231'ofessors, and will train men up for teachers. 

•■' Degrees should never be conferred as a matter of 
course, but after a strict and public examination. They 
should never be conferred either in course, or causa 
honoris^ unless by the recommendation of the Faculty. 

" I have thus very briefly, but as far as my avocations 
would allow, thrown together a few hints upon the sub- 
ject to which you have directed my attention. That I 
should go into detail, I presume, was not expected. 


Whatever may be the plan adopted, I presume it will 
not be carried into effect, until an extensive observation of 
the best universities in Europe has furnished the govern- 
ment with all the knowledge which the present condition 
of science and education can aftbrd. 
I have the honor to be, Sir, 

Respectfully, your obedient servant, 

F. Wayland. 
" Hon. J. Forsyth, Secretary of State" 







ladies' bible class. — MURRAY STREET DISCOURSE. 







WHILE Dr. Wayland was thus indefatigable in his 
eflbrts to advance the general interests of educa- 
tion, he neglected none of the duties of a good citizen. 
From the commencement of his residence in Providence, 
he identified himself with every enterprise which sought 
to promote the prosperity and sound morals of the com- 
munity. Especially did he aim, from the outset, to incul- 
cate, by precept and example, a spirit of enlightened be- 
nevolence. It was remarked of him, even then, that in 
proportion to his means, he was the most liberal man in 
town. Up to the time of his arrival in Providence, the 
amounts contributed to public charities had been small. 
They were mainly in the form of annual payments, of 
from one to three dollars. It is stated that one gentleman 
of ample means, who was prominent in religious affairs, 



considered it a matter of self-gratulation that, once a 
year, he was in the habit of giving half a dollar to the 
cause of foreign missions. When, on one occasion, a 
wealthy citizen of Providence made a donation of twenty 
dollars to a deserving charity, it was proposed at the next 
annual meeting of the society, whose funds had been thus 
unexpectedly increased, to present a vote of thanks to the 
donor, in grateful recognition of such unusual benevolence. 

Dr. Wayland was soon convinced that the painful con- 
trast between the sums contributed and the pecuniary 
resources of the contributors was due, not to the indiffer- 
ence or stinginess of the people of Providence, but to the 
fact that their minds had never been suitably awakened 
to the paramount duty and blessed results of systematic 
charity. He availed himself of every opportunity, in 
public and private, to disseminate throughout the com- 
munity correct views upon this subject. His voice, and 
purse, and pen were ever at the service of any meritori- 
ous public enterprise. By judicious and well-timed per- 
sonal appeals, by liberal donations from his scanty income, 
and by public addresses, he succeeded in stimulating into 
increased activity the charitable and benevolent institu- 
tions of Providence. 

In 182S he preached a sermon in behalf of the Tract 
and School Society — an organization designed to estab- 
lish schools for the poor in all parts of the state. The 
collection taken up at the close of this discourse amounted 
to two hundred dollars, which is believed to have been 
the largest contribution ever made, up to that time, in the 
town of Providence for a similar object. 

Of the part which he took in the formation of the 
Children's Friend Society, which for more than thirty 
years has provided a home for destitute children, a Provi- 
dence lady, ever forward in all good works, has kindly 
given the following account : — 

" It was at the close of one of our Bible-class meetings, 


that Dr. Wnyland requested Miss and myself to wait 

until the chiss had retired, for the purpose of hearing 
from Miss Harriet Ware a statement of her efforts to aid 
the children of the vicious poor of the town, and of her 
plans and wishes for their future benefit. Dr. Wayland 
was exceedingly interested in her narrative, and in the 
quaint way in which she described her labors and the 
obstacles which she encountered. Having heard her touch- 
ing story, he requested Miss and myself to make an 

effort to collect money enough to enable Miss Ware to 
carry on her praiseworthy enterprise. He drew up the 
heading to a subscription paper, was himself the first to 
contribute, and the result was, that we raised the three 
hundred dollars with which that excellent charitv, now 
established on so firm a foundation, commenced its benefi- 
cent career." 

For several years, and until the permanent success of 
this organization was fully assured, Dr. Wayland attended 
its meetings, shared in its counsels, and actively aided in 
all measures adopted to increase its resources and add to 
its efficiency. 

On the death of Miss Harriet Ware he was selected as 
her biographer, and in a short and deeply interesting me- 
moir, paid a merited tribute to the Christian virtues and 
rare ability of this remarkable woman. 

In 1828 he became a member of the board of trustees of 
the Rhode Island Bible Society. This position he retained 
until 1843, discharging all its duties with fidelity and zeal. 
In fact, any scheme designed to secure the distribution 
of the Scriptures could not but enlist his warmest sym- 

The Rhode Island Bible Society is auxiliary to the 
American Bible Society. With this venerable and cath- 
olic organization Dr. Wayland cooperated throughout his 
life. He was of opinion that all Protestant Christians 
may, without any sacrifice of their distinctive principles, 
unite in circulating the English version of the Scriptures, 
as well as those versions which are commonly received 


among Christians in Protestant Europe, Where it is found 
needful to make new translations into the languages of 
heathen nations, and when the different sects could not 
agree upon a common rendering, he was of opinion 
that the existing missionary organizations afforded all 
needed facilities for the work to be accomplished. Their 
missionai'y laborers were the persons best fitted for exe- 
cuting the translations, and the circulation of the Scrip- 
tures, thus rendered into the vernacular, was a part of the 
legitimate missionary work of the several societies. This 
course seemed to him in accordance with a wise economy^ 
and well calculated to promote in the largest attainable 
degree " the unity of the Spirit and the bond of peace " 
among all the followers of the Redeemer. 

Perhaps no local charity interested him more deeply 
than the Providence Dispensary, formed in 1839, for the 
purpose of furnishing medicine and medical attendance 
gratuitously to the poor of Providence. While the benev- 
olent aims of such an organization appeal most strongly 
to the heart of every friend of suffering humanity, with 
what peculiar power must they come home to the faithful 
disciple of that Savior whose richest rewards are promised 
those to whom He can say, " I was sick and ye visited 
me " ! Dr. Wayland was from the first a contributor to 
the funds of the society, was for many years a member of 
its board of managers, and presided, July 5, 1865, at the 
last quarterly meeting held before his death.* 

An extract from the resolutions passed at a meeting of 
the Dispensary will be read with interest : — 

" Resolved^ That, in common with our fellow-citizens, 
we shall hold in grateful remembrance and respect the 

* The following statistics, from the annual report for 1865, 
furnish gratifying evidence of the amount of good accomplished 
by the Dispensary. During this year the number of patients 
relieved was 1248; number of house visits made, 2S81 5 number 
of office consultations, 1596. 


name of one who has so long been prominent in promot- 
ing the interests of benevolence, learning, and religion in 
this community, not only by his varied official labors, but 
by the pervading influence of his personal character." 

Dr. Wayland's labors for the good of the community in 
which he lived, suffered no abatement with his advancing 
3-ears. To quote from the funeral address of Dr. Cas- 
well, — 

" In every assembly of citizens, whether for deliberation 
upon grave public affairs, or for the founding and endow- 
ment of hospitals, or providing shelter for orphans, or 
homes for the aged and infirm, his presence was felt as 
no other man's was. All waited to hear the utterances of 
his voice. In every enterprise among us for the moral 
and religious improvement of the communit}^, in every 
charity for the relief of the poor, in every effort to succor 
the fallen and reclaim the wanderer, his counsel was 
sought as an almost indispensable condition of success. It 
may justly be said that he stood among us as the first citi- 
zen of Rliodc Island." 

But Dr. Wayland never forgot that, while he was called 
upon to discharge to the utmost of his ability his obliga- 
tions as a citizen, he had a higher and more imperative 
duty to perform as a follower of Christ. Although he 
believed that he had obeyed the manifest indications of 
divine Providence in abandoning the pastoral office for the 
position of an instructor, he did not cease to feel a deep 
and ever-increasing interest in the work of the ministry. 
He never declined an invitation to preach, or to perform 
any kind of religious labor, unless prevented by his college 
duties or some indispensable engagement. 

On the 3d of April, 1828, he became a member of the 
First Baptist Church in Providence. Dr. Stephen Gano, 
long the respected and beloved pastor of this church, died 
in August, 1S28. Nearly two years elapsed before his 
successor was installed. During this period Dr. Way- 
land devoted to the spiritual interests of the church all the 

VOL. I. 22 


time which he could spare from his regular duties. He 
frequently preached on the Sabbath, took a prominent 
part in evening meetings, visited the sick, attended funer- 
als, and conducted the communion services. After the 
lapse of nearly forty years, his addresses and his prayers, 
particularly at the sacramental table, are distinctly in the 
remembrance of many who were his hearers. 

His active cooperation in advancing the interests of 
the church did not cease when the pulpit was no longer 
vacant. In 1830 Dr. Gano was succeeded by Rev. 
R. E. Pattison, whose eminent personal qualities and 
varied excellences as a minister of the gospel Dr. Way- 
land ever held in high esteem. In the discourse from 
which we have already quoted, Dr. Pattison says, in 
allusion to this period, and to a second settlement over 
the same congregation, — 

" Though less than five years my senior in age, yet as 
a graduate^ having graduated so young, he was thirteen 
years my senior. During nearly eight years that I was 
his pastor, I never ceased to feel that he was the teacher 
and I the pupil. As a preacher of the gospel, and as the 
pastor of my flock, of which he was a member, I felt that 
I must acknowledge but one Master. Yet in our almost 
daily intercourse I ceased not to draw from his well. It 
was rarely book knowledge. Sometimes the topic was 
rny own sermon, to which he was to listen on the next Sab- 
■bath, or which he had heard on the preceding ; but more 
.frequently it was some one of those subjects of investiga- 
-tion about to be incorporated into his imperishable works. 
. . . With such relations to Dr. Wayland, I can fully 
appreciate his reverence for Dr. Nott." * 

During the pastorate of Dr. Pattison, an extensive and 

* We trust it may not be improper to add that the sentiments, 
expressed in the above extract, towards Dr. Wayland, his sons 
have never ceased to cherish for Dr. Pattison ; and one of them, as 
the pastor of Dr. Pattison, has felt that the debt of counsel and 
kindness, which was due to the subject of this memoir, has been 
abundantly repaid to the second generation. 


powerful revival of religion occurcd. We think that 
we speak the sentiments of those members of the church 
who remember those days of the right hand of the jMost 
High, when we say that the counsels and labors of Dr. 
Wayland at this time were of incalculable value. 

We cannot forbear quoting, in this connection, a further 
passage from Dr. Pattison's discourse, strikingly illustra- 
tive of the character of Dr. Wayland : — 

" The ease with which a personal difficulty could be 
settled with him, arose not merely from his quick percep- 
tion of the reason of the thing, and freedom from pre- 
judice, but chiefly from his habitual religious feelings. . . . 
In the early part of my ministry, my congregation being, 
as I thought, peculiarly insensible to the claims of religion, 
I resolved on producing a sensation ; that I would preach, 
for several weeks in succession, exclusively on the claims 
of the divine law, and the certainty and solemnity of its 
retributions. This series was to be followed by another, 
exclusively on the way of life. Before the completion 
of the first division, I perceived a sensation ; but whether 
favorable or unfavorable I was not assured. With much 
hesitation, however, I persevered. The doctor, ignorant, 
with the rest of my congregation, of my motive, on our 
way to our homes at the close of a Sabbath morning 
scr^'ice, betrayed dissatisfaction with my continued se- 
lection of such subjects. I commenced a reply with the 
expression that it was an experiment. He interrupted 
me, saying, with a severity of which he was capable, ' I 
do not wish to be experimented on.' Exactly what reply 
I made, I cannot say ; but it was one prompted by self- 
distrust, and by feelings wounded by his severity. He 
added nothing further. But in a few minutes after reach- 
ing my home, a messenger handed me the following 
note : — 

" Dear Pastor : * I regret sincerely my manner and 
spirit in our recent conversation. I hope, as a sinner, to 

* It was illustrative of the relations subsisting between them, 
that up to the close of his life, Dr. Vv'ayland never ceased to ad- 
dress Dr. Pattison by the designation " pastor." 


be cleansed in the blood of Christ. Forgive me. Love 
me, pastor, though I am unlovely. I hope Christ does. 
Your affectionate brother, 

F. W." 

During the vacancy which followed the resignation of 
Dr. Pattison, and at various periods of peculiar need in 
the history of the church, the post of responsibility and 
labor was either tacitly or by formal vote assigned to Dr. 
Wayland. It was he who supplied the place of a pastor 
when the office was vacant, and it was on his counsels 
that reliance was mainly placed when the pastoral office 
was to be filled. In the language of an honored member 
and office-bearer in the body, " the doctor took the church 
on his shoulders, and carried it right over every difficult 

In none of the exercises of the church was his presence 
more sensibly felt than in the missionary concert, held on 
the first Sabbath evening of each month. The concert in 
the college chapel was held at an early hour in the even- 
ing, and was a scene of deep interest. It cannot be 
doubted that, of the graduates of Brown University who 
have labored for the salvation of the heathen, very many 
found their zeal quickened, or, perhaps, first awakened, 
by the influence of this sei^vice. It was a delightful and 
characteristic feature of these meetings that members of 
all denominations took part; that intelligence was com- 
municated from the Missionary Herald and from the 
Spiritof Missions, as well as from the Magazine ; and that 
the collections (with the entire approbation, and, perhaps, 
at the suggestion, of the president) were sometimes be- 
stowed upon agencies outside the denomination to which 
most of the contributors belonged. 

From the college concert the president went to the 
vestry of the church. The tidings found in the leading 
missionary journals were communicated by intelligent 
laymen, who regularly held themselves responsible for 


the discharge of this duty. After the missionary intelli- 
gence had been spread before the audience, Dr. Wayland's 
voice was usually heard. Perhaps he would communicate 
some striking fact or anecdote which he had learned from 
the brethren at the missionary rooms, or at the mission 
house in Pemberton Square. Perhaps he would carry out 
the reflections suggested by some feature of the intelligence 
found in the magazines. Perhaps he would trace the 
course of God's providence through the centuries in vindi- 
cating righteousness and punishing oppression. At one 
time, when the continent of Europe was the scene of 
tumult and bloodshed, he reviewed the course of these 
nations, in a former day, in rejecting the light and pei"- 
secuting the saints. " And now," he said, " God is giving 
them blood to drink in great measure." His language 
and manner were exceedingly simple ; but all who re- 
member these meetings will probably coincide in the 
remark, which was not unfrequently made, that " no- 
where else was Dr. Wayland so truly eloquent as in the 
missionary concert." And even more impressive were 
his prayers, as he spread before Jehovah the condition of 
the world, and pleaxled all the divine promises and perfec- 
tions ; as he invoked the interposition of God in behalf 
of his oppressed people, in behalf of his servants and 
ministers who were exposed to persecution and violence 
from wicked men and rulers : " Rebuke kings for their 
sakes. Say to them, Touch not mine anointed, and do 
my prophets no harm." 

These meetings (which many persons now recall as 
having been the most interesting and delightful that they 
ever attended) exerted an incalculable influence in arous- 
ing a spirit of liberality and of enlightened missionary 
zeal. It Vv'ill be remembered that in 1S23 (or 1834) it was 
estimated that, under favorable circumstances, not less 
than fifty dollars might be expected from the churches in 
Providence. At the close of these monthly concerts it 


was not uncommon for the collection, in a single evening, 
to reach twice that amount ; and (if we are not in error) 
the church at one time held the first place among the 
Baptist churches in America in the amount of its mis- 
sionary contributions. 

The religious labors of Dr. Wayland were very far 
from being sectarian in their character. He earnestly 
sought to promote the spiritual welfare of all whom he 
could bring within the sphere of Christian influence. In 
1S33 he commenced a ladies' Bible class, inviting the 
attendance of members of every denomination. The fol- 
lowing, from his journal of that time, exhibits the feelings 
with which he entered on this undertaking : — 

" April 7, 1833, Sabbath. I have, during the past week, 
made arrangements for commencing a Bible class in town. 
So far as I know, I have intended to obey the intimations 
of the Spirit of God. I have always observed that I 
deeply regret having neglected such intimations, and 
thinking that this might be one, I dared not let it pass 
unimproved. I do not know that I desire anything else 
than to promote the cause of Christ and the interests of 
holiness. To the Spirit of all wisdom and holiness do I 
commend this effort. May it be the means of promoting 
the knowledge and the love of God ; may it be blessed 
to every one who attends. Wilt thou direct, O God, the 
best and proper way in which to conduct it ! Wilt thou 
call in the most suitable persons ! Wilt thou enable me 
to direct it in such manner as may please thee ! On thee 
I rely. In thy strength would I carry it on. Grant me 
health, strength, piety, illumination, and enable me to 
drink deeply into the spirit of religion, that I may thus 
teach others. Hear me, O God, for Christ's sake ! Amen." 

Of this Bible class (which met every Saturday afternoon, 
and was continued for several years) Mrs. Professor Chace 
has furnished the following reminiscences : — 

" The circumstances which led to the formation of Dr. 
Wayland's Bible class for ladies were these : Mrs. Way- 
land was one day calling at our house, and, with the ear- 
nest interest which she always took in the religious welfare 


of the young, invited my sister and myself to attend, with 
the ladies of her own family, the young men's Bible class 
in college. How well I remember the gloomy hall, the 
low, ill-lighted chapel, with Dr. Wayland's noble figure 
looming up grandly against the dark background ! What 
a new thing to me was that wonderful power with which 
lie took the confused, half-uttered thoughts of the students, 
and by short, clear explanation, or by some illustration, 
sometimes quaint, always striking, poured a flood of light 
upon the hidden truth which they were groping after, 
bringing it out with such distinctness that every one beheld 
it with the delight of a new discovery ! This was my first 
knowledge of Dr. Wayland as an instructor, and it was 
the commencement of my own education, in the true sense 
of the word. 

" When it was known that the attendance of ladies was 
permitted, the number became so large as to embarrass 
the young men, and prevent that freedom of discussion 
which is the life of any Bible class. The ladies were 
then banished from college, and gathered into a class of 
their own. Its first meeting was on the 13th of April, 
1833. I was at that time in a sick-room, but am told that 
the number present was about thirty. I judge that later 
there could not have been less than sixty members, with 
an average attendance of about forty. They were from 
all the difierent churches in the city, of all ages, and of all 
degrees of intelligence and culture, from the old dame, 
who, in her fear of mere human teaching, asked, ' If the 
Lord wanted a man larned, wouldn't he give him lai^n- 
ing?' — to the most carefully reared and instructed. 

" Dr. Wayland was equally attentive to all. He was 
never wearied by questions, whether wisely or unwisely 
put, but always patient in his explanations and in his I'e- 
plies to the good but ignorant woman, whose opinions, very 
complacently held and very freely expressed, were some- 
times too much for the gravity of the listeners. He 
' checked with a glance the circle's smile,' and gave us a 
valuable lesson in Christian courtesy. 

'•' The first book was the Gospel of Matthew. I was 
only occasionally pi'esent during the examination of this 
portion of the New Testament, and my recollections are 
chiefly confined to the study of the Epistles of Romans and 
Hebrews. His habit was to give us a carefully-prepared 


analysis of the epistle. I have that of Romans now, and 
am using it in the instruction of my own scholars. 

" The exercises of the class were always commenced 
with prayer ; and few who wei-e present will ever forget 
those prayers. There were times when the veil which 
conceals the spiritual world seemed, for him, to be lifted, 
and his soul to stand in the open vision of the infinite 
glory. By the strength of his faith he bore us with him ; 
and when it was over, it was like coming back to earth 
after a glimpse of heaven. The prayer ended, he re- 
quired of some one — choosing quite at random — the 
analysis of the chapter as given in the previous lesson, af- 
terwards taking it up verse by verse. He never lectured, 
but conducted the recitation by question and answer, striv- 
ing to lead the student to think for herself, rather than 
blindly to follow his explanations. He always encour- 
aged the expression of opinions even when they were not 
in harmony with his own, and discussed them with fair- 
ness and a thoughtful regard for the feelings of others. 
He held us, however, closely to the subject, checking us 
decidedly, although not ungently, when we wandered too 
far. Among the most interested members of the class were 
a large number of young ladies who had just left school. 
I think they will all remember and acknowledge the great 
intellectual benefit which they derived from these instruc- 
tions. He never allowed us to imagine that we under- 
stood a passage of which we could give no intelligible 
exposition. He taught us that half-knowledge is no 
knowledge. He inspired in us an enthusiastic love of 
truth, and a feeling of responsibility as to its attainment. 
He made us conscious that there may be an inner life 
richer and fuller than the outer one. He once said to me 
in later years, 'You know that to elevate the standard 
of character among women has been a constant aim with 
me all my life.' 

" The striking features of his teaching in the Bible class 
— as everywhere — were its clearness, its simplicity, its 
dii-ectness, and its wealth of illustration. He never lost 
sight of the important distinction between what may be 
known, and what in its very nature is beyond human com- 
prehension, and he always repressed speculation as to the 
latter. Young souls, earnest and thoughtful, but bewil- 
dered by the great mysteries of life, and losing themselves 

ladies' bible class. 345 

in a maze of doubts, he never sought to extricate by argu- 
ment, but led them by the holier and gentler aflcctions to 
the sure faith and quiet peace which the gospel only can 

" Dr. Wayland's personal influence, which was not 
confined to the class-room, was controlling, helping to 
mould many a character at the age when it takes shape 
for life. The tone of society, among its younger mem- 
bers, was materially aflected by the graver views of life 
which he inculcated ; and it is a striking proof of his 
power, that while many young ladies, who received their 
religious training in his Bible class, were reigning belles, 
dancing, of which he disapproved, was rigorously ex- 
cluded from their parties. 

" It may be that I have reached that period in life in 
which one begins to glorify the past. But it seems to me 
that society in our city was never more charming than 
in those days when the highest subjects of human thought, 
and that eternity, which, near or far, awaits us all, were 
frequent themes of converse in ordinary social gatherings. 

'' The closing meeting of the Bible class was held 
October 29, 1S36. Dr. Wayland found his engagements 
so numerous that he could no longer spare the time neces- 
sary for it. Nearly twenty )'ears afterwards, in 1855, it 
was resumed, and continued three years." 

Another member of this Bible class says, — 

" When we assembled for the first time, Dr. Wayland 
told us, among other things, that he must insist upon 
punctuality of attendance. If we had not this habit novv, 
v/e could not form it too soon. He added, that punctu- 
ality did not consist in arriving at the class-room several 
minutes before the hour, but only so early as to enable iis 
to be in our seats precisely at the time appointed. Here, 
as every where, we should ')ear in mind the value of time, 
and avoid consuming needlessly the time of others as well 
as of ourselves. He had no occasion afterwards to allude 
to this subject. I have never known punctuality to be so 
uniformly observed as in Dr. Wayland's Bible class." 

That the ladies who enjoyed the benefits of his teach- 
ings did not fail to appreciate his labors in their behalf is 
evident from the following note, dated " November 25, 


1834," and found, after his death, preserved among his 
most valued papers : — 

" The ladies of the Bible class return a vote of thanks 
to Dr. Wayland for the unceasing exertions w^hich he has 
made for their spiritual improvement. 

" A note can but inadequately express the heartfelt 
gratitude with which many have received from his lips 
the truths of the gospel ; and the amount of good done 
can be known only to the Searcher of all hearts, who will 
abundantly reward his labors. 

" To that Master, whom they believe he has thus faith- 
fully served, they would commend him and all who are 
dear to him, beseeching him to add his prayers to their 
own, that, of those who have attended the Bible class, not 
one may be missing in that day when the Savior shall 
' make up his jewels.* 

" By request of the ladies of Dr. Wayland's Bible 

During the years 1S34 ^^^ ^^35? ^^- Wayland con- 
ducted a somewhat similar exercise every Tuesday even- 
ing, at his house, to which ladies of all denominations 
and of every age were cordially welcomed. On these 
occasions, the attention of those present — numbering 
usually from thirty to forty — was not directed to any 
particular portion of the Scriptures, but free conversation 
W'as encouraged respecting all topics of religious inquiry. 
In order that no one should be prevented by diffidence or 
reserve from seeking information. Dr. Wayland suggested 
that any one who chose should put on the table unsigned 
papers, containing questions to which replies were desired, 
statements of doubts to be solved, or subjects to be dis- 
cussed. Not unfrequently the consideration of these pa- 
pers consumed the entire evening. The teacher and the 
taught derived mutual benefit from this exercise, and 
parted with minds greatly quickened by the unrestricted 
interchange of religious sentiments. It should be added 
that these meetings were always opened and closed with 


But while thus actively engaged in the work of instruc- 
tion, and exercising a careful and constant supei-vision 
over the internal management and the external interests 
of Brown University, framing new laws for its govern- 
ment, and collecting funds to promote in every right 
direction its increased efficiency, and while, as we have 
seen, ever mindful of his duties as a public-spirited citi- 
zen, and more solicitous for the souls of his fellow-men 
than for the success of any merely temporal enterprise, 
however deserving of encouragement, he yet found leisure 
for much additional labor. 

In the spring of 1830, a series of sermons was preached 
in the Murray Street Church, of New York city, by 
eminent clergymen representing several denominations. 
These sermons were subsequently published in a volume, 
entitled Murray Street Discourses, and in this form re- 
ceived a wide circulation. Dr. Wayland was one of the 
clergymen selected to perform this sei-v'ice, and his dis- 
course on "The Certain Triumphs of the Redeemer" 
takes rank among his happiest public efforts. It is an 
earnest, able, and manly defence of the truths of revealed 
religion, enforcing the authority and inspiration of the 
Holy Scriptures, and predicting, in language of surpass- 
ing power, the glorious results which will follow the final 
and blessed reign of the Redeemer on earth. 

On the 35th of May, 1830, he addressed the American 
Sunday School Union, in Philadelphia. Assuming that, 
on such an occasion and before such an audience, " the 
importance of inculcating upon the young the principles 
of the gospel of Jesus Christ may be taken for granted," 
he invites their attention " to an illustration of some of 
the encouragements which the present state of society 
offers to an effort for the universal diffusion of Christian- 
ity." After a brief allusion to the nature of the Reforma- 
tion in the time of Luther, he considers " the physical and 
intellectual changes, very similar to those which character- 


ized the Reformation, which are at this moment going 
forward in this country." He discovers in the increased 
vakie of labor, in the progress of science as applied to the 
useful arts, in the rapid improvement of the means for 
cultivating the human mind, and in the peculiar facilities 
for intellectual development furnished by the character of 
our political institutions, all the encouragement needed 
by the enlightened Christian to induce him hopefully to 
persevere in the work of religious reform. 

We quote a single paragraph from the conclusion of 
this discourse, to illustrate his earnest interest in the cause 
of Sabbath Schools : — 

" Time will barely suffer me to allude, in the briefest 
manner, to that species of religious effort v^rhich has given 
occasion to this address. You cannot, however, have 
failed to observe, that, if ever the gospel is universally to 
prevail, it is by some such means as this, under God, that 
its triumph will be achieved. By furnishing employment 
for talent of every description, the Sabbath school mul- 
tiplies, almost indefinitely, the amount of benevolent effort, 
and awakens throughout every class of society the dor- 
mant spirit of Christian philanthropy. It renders every 
teacher a student of the Bible, and thus, in the most in- 
teresting manner, brings divine truth into immediate con- 
tact with the understanding and the conscience. All this 
it does to the teacher. But, besides all this, the Sabbath 
school is imbuing what will, twenty years hence, be the 
active population of this country, with the principles of 
the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is teaching that class of the 
community into whose hands so soon the destinies of this 
country will fall, the principles of inviolable justice and 
eternal truth. But more than all, it is implanting in the 
bosoms of millions of immortal souls ' that knowledge 
which is able to make them wise unto salvation, through 
the faith which is in Christ Jesus.' How transcendently 
glorious are the privileges before us ! Who will not cm- 
bark in this holy enterprise ? " 

He delivered a discourse on " The Moral Efficacy of 
the Doctrine of the Atonement," February 3, 1831, at the 


installation of Rev. William Hague, as pastor of the First 
Baptist Church in Boston. There is something peculiarly 
touching in the solemn, earnest, and affectionate tone of 
this sermon, addi-essed to his former flock. 

In ISIay, 1831, he gave the Dudleian Lecture at Har- 
vard University, upon Natural Religion, taking as his text 
Romans ii. 14: " When the Gentiles, which have not the 
law," &c. 

On the afternoon of Commencement day, September 7, 
I S3 1, occurred the first anniversary of the Rhode Island 
Chapter of the Phi Beta Kappa Society. President Way- 
land deliverd the oration, selecting as his theme " The 
Philosophy of Analogy." This discourse " is remarkable 
for a rare felicity of conception and treatment, for the fine 
vein of original thought which runs through it, for the 
grace and beauty of its illustrations, and for the classic 
finish of its style. It is pervaded throughout by a highly 
philosophic spirit, and contains passages of the loftiest 
eloquence." * 

On the 20th of October, 1831, he addi'essed the Prov- 
idence Temperance Society. The discourse was char- 
acterized by his usual force of reasoning, pungency of 
personal appeal, earnestness of expostulation, sympathy 
v/ith suflering humanity, and elevation of moral sentiment. 
It produced a profound impression upon his audience, 
and, when published, gave a fresh and powerful impulse 
to the cause of temperance in Rhode Island, and through- 
out the whole country.f Its most striking passages were 
extensively quoted. The spirit and tone of the discourse 

* Commemorative Discourse of Professor Chace. 

t The fact that a recent riot in the suburbs of Providence, 
fomented by a fcAV drunken sailors, had resulted in the destruction 
of several buildings, and the loss of several lives, was made the sub- 
ject of indignant comment, and served to illustrate the evils of 
intemperance in a manner calculated to arrest the attention and 
awaken the apprehensions of the community in which the incident 


were universally commended, and the soundness of his 
conclusions was everywhere conceded by all right-minded 

The people of Providence were peculiarly gratified to 
find Dr. Wayland manifesting so lively an interest in their 
welfare, and a new and strong bond of sympathy was 
created between him and his fellow-citizens. 

September 27, 1832, he preached a discourse at Port- 
land, at the ordination of Rev. John S. Maginnis, on " The 
Objections to the Doctrine of Christ crucified, considered." 
December 17, 1832, he performed a similar service at the 
ordination of Rev. W. R. Williams. The services took 
place in the Oliver Street Church, New York. We quote 
a single paragraph : — 

" This occasion is, in a degree unusual even to such 
services, interesting to myself. On this spot I first heard 
proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ. My parents are 
among the earliest members of this church. The first 
minister whom I remember was the immediate prede- 
cessor of the present pastor of this parent church, and the 
father of the candidate for the ministry in that which has 
just been constituted. Many years have elapsed since I 
waited upon the instructions of that venerable man. Since 
then I have seen many meek, many holy, many humble, 
many able, many peace-making ministers of tlie New 
Testament ; but I have yet seen no one that has reminded 
me of John Williams." 

Among his other occasional public discourses at this 
period were a sermon on " The Abuse of the Imagina- 
tion," and an address before the Howard Benevolent So- 
ciety of Boston on " The Motives to Beneficence." 

On the evening of Sunday, June 29, 1834, a large 
body of missionaries (Mr. and Mrs. Comstock, Mr. and 
Mrs. Dean, Mr. and ISIrs. Vinton, Mr. and Mrs. Howard, 
and Miss Gardner) being about to embark for Burmah 
(in company with Mr. and Mrs. Wade, who were return- 
ing to their field of labor) were publicly designated to the 


work before them by appropriate services held in the 
Baldwin Place Church, in Boston, On this occasion Dr. 
Way land gave an address, upon " The Moral Conditions of 
Success in the Propagation of the Gospel." The Magazine 
remarks, — 

" While listening to his lofty, bold, beautiful, and, we 
may add emphatically, scriptural delineation of the 
objects, qualifications, and duties of a Christian mission- 
ary, — a delineation that made every other object and 
character than that of the Christian dwindle into utter 
insignificance in the comparison, — we felt as did Peter 
on the mount of glorious vision : ' It is good to be 
here.' And the thought more than once occurred to 
us. How would the venerable Baldwin have enjoyed 
the scene?" 

The following extract from Dr. Wayland's address to 
the departing missionaries derives a peculiar and touching 
interest from the circumstances of the speaker, whose 
home had recently been desolated by bereavement : — * 

"You will pardon me if I say nothing to you respecting 
the pains of that separation which is immediately before 
you. Sympathy, under such circumstances, can do little 
else than aggravate our natural sorrow. And, yet more, 
we have all learned enough of the mutability of the things 
which are temporal, to be convinced that, in a world 
where death reigns, there exists no tie which could per- 
manently bind you and your friends together, even if you 
remained at home. It seems, at first view, as though 
loneliness were connected solely with your residence in 
Burmah. But God could in a single hour render the 
dwelling-place of 3'our fathers as solitary to each one of 
you as Ava or Tavoy. If Christ be with you, you will 
have, in every event, an unchanging source of consolation ; 
if he be absent, the thronged city may, at any moment, be 
made, by a single act of his providence, a solitary wilder- 

On Thursday, September i, 1836, Dr. Wayland delivered 
the Phi Beta Kappa address, at Harvard University, select- 

* Mrs. Wayland died April 3, 1834. 


ing as his theme, " The Practical Uses of the Principle of 
Faith." He considered it, first, in its relation to our inter- 
course with created beings ; and, second, in reference to 
those circumstances vvliich arise from our relations to the 
Deity ; and, lastly, the practical influence of the principle 
of faith in our relations to the life to come. The discourse 
was able and impressive ; if somewhat more grave in its 
subject and its tone than is usual upon the occasion of a 
literary anniversary, the force of thought and of language 
was well fitted to secure the attention of an intellisrent 

The year 1837 is memorable in the annals of our coun- 
try as a time of almost unparalleled financial embarrass- 
ment. A spirit of reckless speculation had been fol- 
lowed by universal bankruptcy. On the 14th of May of 
that year, Dr. Wayland delivered, in the First Baptist 
Church in Providence, two discourses on " The Moral Law 
of Accumulation." In the first discourse he enumerated 
and illustrated the moral causes which had produced this 
wide-spread disaster, and in the second suggested some 
of the lessons to beiearned from the history of this crisis. 
He explained and enforced the scriptural doctrine as to 
the accumulation and expenditure of wealth, dwelling 
upon the manifold evils of making haste to be rich, the 
habit of unscrupulous dealing which it encourages, the 
wasteful and often licentious extravagance to which it 
tends, and, above all, the neglect of religious duties, 
which is its almost inevitable result. 

Discourses so well adapted to the times could not fail 
to attract public attention. Their " lessons of wisdom 
and piety " were gratefully recognized in the request 
which was at once made that they might be published. 
The sermons passed through several editions, and were 
widely circulated. 

Dr. Wayland not only labored to disseminate just views 
on education, and to elevate his fellow-men to a higher 


plane of intellectual culture, but, as an ardent lover of 
his country, he desired to see her physical resources de- 
veloped to the utmost. He had, moreover, a natural 
taste for agriculture and horticulture, and derived pecu- 
liar pleasure from his own success in these pursuits. 
He discharged, therefore, a congenial duty, when, on 
the 6th of October, 1841, he delivered the annual address 
before the Rhode Island Society for the Encouragement 
of Domestic Industry. On this occasion he inquired, 
" What are the capabilities of our present condition as 
farmers of Rliode Island, and in what manner can those 
capabilities be improved and extended?" He spoke of 
the importance of agriculture, of the opportunities which 
the cultivator of the ground may have for mental improve- 
ment, and of the climate, soil, and pi'oducts of the state. 
He offered valuable suggestions as to the means of increas- 
ing, by intelligent labor and the application of the laws 
of chemistrv, the natural advantages which Rhode Island 
farmers already enjoyed. In conclusion he said, — 

" I beg to assure you of the deep interest which I feel 
in all your pursuits, and to express the ardent wish that 
it were in my power in any manner to be of service to 
you. If I, or the gentlemen associated with me, can in 
anyway promote your interests, it will give us at all times 
the greatest pleasure to do it. The commercial, the man- 
ufiicturing, the agricultural, and the literary interests of 
this community are one and indivisible. May they all 
unite in rendering this little state the brighest star in the 
constellation of the Union." 

VOL. I. 23 




"XIW'E may well pause here to inquire how it was possi- 
» ▼ ble for any man, without the neglect of any known 
duty, to respond to so many and so varied demands 
upon his time. An answer to the inquiry involves some 
allusion to his daily habits at this period of his life. 

That he was conscientiously industrious, and that his 
industry was systematic and methodical, might be taken 
for granted, in view of the amount of labor which he 
actually accomplished. But in addition to this, he had, 
in a rare degree, the power of concentrating his mind 
upon any subject which for the time engaged his atten- 
tion. He often quoted with approbation, and he certainly 
illustrated in his own instance, the characteristic saying 
of Dr. Johnson : " A man may write at any time, if he 
will set himself doggedly about it." He never asked 
himself whether he was in the best mood for this or that 
kind of mental effort. He never humored the passing 
fancy of the moment. He had some duty assigned for 
every working hour of every da}', and he compelled him- 
self to undertake the allotted task with unflinching- deter- 
mination. He patiently prepared his mind for the labor 
of composition by the slow process of close and logical 
thought, carefully writing out an analysis of the discourse, 
or lecture, or treatise on which he was engaged. This 


accomplished, he was ready for what remained. To clothe 
with flesh and blood the skeleton so perfect in all its parts, 
and to inspire the whole with the vital energy of his own 
earnest nature, was comparatively easy. While so em- 
ployed, he was impatient of interruption, and frequently 
denied himself to all visitors. An incident related by 
his pastor* happily illustrates his habits of study : — 

" During eight years I was his pastor, with an intimacy 
peculiarly free ; and yet never but once did I venture to 
intrude on his morning and choicest study hours. Know- 
ing the annoyance he felt at the briefest interruption at such 
times, — that he often studied with locked door, or did not 
respond when solicited, — I had invariably regarded his 
wishes. But necessity knows no rule. I rapped at the 
door of his study when he was most secluded. There 
was no response. I then gave the ' Faculty rap.' Still 
no answer. Satisfied that he was within, and that, if he 
knew my errand, he would welcome me, I addressed him 
by name, saying, ' Dr. Wayland, I must see you.' To this 
he replied in a gentle tone, ' Come in. Pastor,' I opened 
the door. Crossing the threshold, I found him, pen in 
hand, standing with his back to the little light which crept 
through the shutters nearly closed. In this room, thus 
darkened, he was thinking. It was at the time, I well 
remember, when he was making the analysis of his work 
on political economy — not one of his most difficult trea- 
tises, but requiring a large generalization, as well as a 
minute analysis. Everything at this period of his life 
was made tributary to his mental dicipline. I never 
knew the scholar so rarely interrupted in 'study hours' 
as he, and to this, in no small degree, is his success to 
be attributed." 

It was Dr. Wayland's habit to qualify himself for such 
continuous and exhausting mental application by vigorous 
physical exercise. For many years this was his sole re- 
lief from study. Indeed, his only idea of relaxation was 
exercise in the open air. He enjoyed nothing so much 

* Rev. R. E. Pattison, D, D. 


as laboring in his garden, and it seemed to him that his 
favorite amusement must be equally attractive to all. 
Thus he writes to one from whom he expected a visit : 
" Come, and stay as long as you can. Bring your work- 
ing clothes : there will be an opportunity to use them." 
He always preferred that his exercise should take the 
form of productive labor. If the weather was unfovor- 
able for gardening, he resorted to sawing and splitting 
wood. When a clergyman once asked him to suggest 
some species of recreation not inconsistent with clerical 
propriety-, he said, with a smile, "-Walk." He rarely left 
his home, unless summoned by some immediate call of 
duty. Travelling for the sake of travelling was not to 
his taste, and not in accordance with the severe standard 
of daily duty to which he habitually conformed. It was 
only with great reluctance that he ever consented to make 
visits which did not combine w^ith the pleasure of seeing 
friends and relatives, some useful labor to be accomplished. 
January i, 1S34, ^^^ writes, — 

"Your kind invitation is by no means slighted; but 
what should I do in Boston? Could I find my room, my 
fire, my books and papers there? I should be a mere 
hanger-on, in the way of other people, hindering them, 
and of no use to them or to myself. I should feel like 
the boy who played truant, finding neither the dog, nor 
the horse, nor the bee willing to play with him, and very 
glad to get back to school again." 

He was ill at ease when not actively employed ; as he 
once said, " I find doing nothing a most laborious and 
time-consuming business." It was, moreover, a marked 
peculiarity of his mental habits that he could never per- 
form any literary labor with satisfaction to himself, except 
in the seclusion of his own study. Later in life he may 
have regretted that he had never learned the art of inno- 
cent recreation ; but at the period of which we speak, he 
found his chief happiness in exerting to the utmost all the 
faculties of his mind. 


At times he seemed aware that he was overtasking his 
strength. Thus he writes to his mother, June 3, 1831 : — 

" I have for a long time been aware that I owed you a 
letter, and have several times been on the point of paying 
the debt ; but various circumstances, which I could not 
control, have prevented. Betbre my last term closed, I 
prepared a discourse on natural religion for Harvard 
University. This required much time and reflection. I 
Vv-as then obliged to go and deliver it, and afterwards to 
remain a week in Boston to preach for Mr. Malcom's 
congregation. When I returned, I had the writing of the 
term to finish. Subsequently my eyes showed symptoms 
of weakness, which, in these days of the sickness and 
breaking down of clergymen, I considered an admonition 
to use them less." 

To his sister, 1S33 : — • 

" I am, my dear A., a perfect dray-horse. I am in 
harness from morning to night, and from one year to 
another. I am never turned out for recreation. Our term 
closed yesterday. To-morrow I go (D. V.) to New Bed- 
ford to prosecute college business, and raise some money 
for our library. Thus I shall be engaged all the vacation. 
Next term, the same thing is to be done over again. I 
want rest and case for a little while. I barely seize a 
moment to write to you, out of the time which I have set 
ajDart for answering college letters. God, however, is 
pleased to smile upon our labors. We have a good 
entrance, and have done a good term's work, and are, by 
the blessing of Providence, making friends." 

To Colonel Stone, March 14, 1833 : — 

" I rejoice that your labor is so nearly completed. I 
wish I could say the same of mine. I am pained to add 
that I cannot do what you request of me. By too close 
attention to writing during the last vacation, I have lamed 
my chest, and have not been able to write a page a day 
for weeks. I may be obliged to take a journey on horse- 
back to recover. Even writing what I am obliged to do 
in correspondence affects me." 

He could not, however, be persuaded to seek that 


relie.f from excessive labor, which those who were familar 
with his daily life frequently recommended. His wife 
writes to a friend, March 20, 1S33, — 

" The anxiety of my husband to complete his work on 
moral science has led him to spend the vacation in writ- 
ing, when he needed recreation to recruit his health, al- 
ready much impaired by the severe and engrossing labors 
of the preceding term. His daily exercise of sawing and 
splitting wood has failed to keep him in good physical 
condition ; and he needs a joui'ney, but he will not allow 
himself this indulsrence." 


Yet while often exerting himself beyond the just limits 
of his capacity for labor, he did not fail to impress on oth- 
ers the importance of obeying the laws of health. He 
writes, June 3, 1831, to a relative engaged in teaching, — 

" You will be in great danger of forgetting the necessity 
of exercise both for yourself and for others. Remember 
that you are to look to nature and natural tendencies for 
lessons. A child loves play, and finds even simple motion 
agreeable. The Creator meant it should be so. Let it 
have play then ; let its limbs be thoroughly and habitually 
exercised. Thus only can it have a sound and healthy 
constitution. Thus will you be able to counteract the 
sensitiveness acquired by study." 

And again, — 

" I regret that you go to bed tired, and get up tired. 
This is not right. Sleep ought to do away with tired. 
You need, and must take, some sort of physical exercise, 
and get more sleep. Every twenty-four hours should 
take care of themselves, and provide for their own re- 
cuperation. To be tired on getting up, casts the burden 
of yesterday upon to-day." 

While he delighted to receive his friends at his house, 
and welcomed them with generous hospitality, his studi- 
ous habits were always rigidly maintained. All business 
engagements, and particularly his college appointments, 
were kept with exact and unvarying punctuality. Indeed, 


he never failed to recognize the paramount importance of 
his official obligations. On one occasion, when invited to 
preach in a neighboring city, he replied, — 

" I cannot preach for your people, as yovi request. I 
could not do it consistently with my views of duty. Could 
I feel that it was right, few things would give me greater 
pleasure. This, I trust, you know, and therefore I need 
not multiply words to assure you of it. I cannot leave 
home in term time, except for an extraordinary case." 

The following letter written at a later period exhibits 

the same spirit : — 

" Providence, July 15, 1845. 

" Rev. and dear Sir : I have the honor to acknowledge 
the receipt of your letter of July 13, inviting me to be 
present at the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of Union 

" Nothing could give me greater pleasure than to re- 
visit once more the scenes of my early education, to re- 
new those friendships, which, more than thirty years since, 
I formed within the walls of Union College, and to hold 
communion, although it were but for a day, with those 
teachers to whose instruction I owe whatever of success 
has attended my professional career. I fear, however, 
that my engagements will render it impossible for me to 
indulge my strong inclination. Our examinations, during 
the next week, will not allow me to be absent from home 
even for twenty-four hours. I learned long since, from 
the president of Union College (a name never uttered by 
his pupils without the most filial reverence and the most 
enthusiastic admiration), that the most powerful allure- 
ments of pleasure must bow to the requirements of duty. 
And I should hardly dare to appear in such a presence in 
disobedience to those instructions, which it has been the 
business of his life to exemplify. Should I not, therefore, 
be found in my place on Tuesday next, to answer to my 
name when the roll of the class of 1813 is called, I trust 
that my alma mater \miW. allow me to plead, as my excuse, 
the principles with which she has imbued me." 

Those leisure moments which he was able to snatch 
from the constant pressure of his steadily increasing cares, 


he gladly spent with his family. He was a man of ten- 
der afiections and quick sensibilities, ever studying how 
best to promote the happiness of his wife and his children, 
and ministering to their comfort with prompt and delicate 
forethought. Of his only daughter, who died in 1829, at 
the age of fifteen months, he was especially fond, and the 
child warmly returned his love. 
Mrs. Wayland writes, — 

" It was delightful to observe her father's increasing 
fondness for her. She was overjoyed whenever he entered 
the house, and always, when I told her that her papa was 
coming, she would run across the hall, holding out her 
little hands to embrace him." 

A few years after the loss of this dear child, he was 
again called to pass through the furnace of affliction. On 
the 3d of April, 1834, death once more entered his little 
fi^mily and took from him his beloved wife. His feelings 
under this sore bereavement, his firm reliance upon the 
promises of God and the consolations of religion, his spirit 
of Christian resignation, and his all-absorbing desire to 
learn and profit by the true lessons of this mysterious 
providence, are fitly set forth in his letters to his parents 
and other relatives. 

In view of the fact that the life and example of Mrs. 
Wayland, and the reflections suggested by her sickness 
and death, had an important influence in moulding the 
character and directing the aims of her husband, her sons 
do not feel that the}' are precluded by their relationship 
from presenting a brief estimate of her moral qualities, 
condensed from reminiscences prepared by Dr. Wayland, 
for the perusal of her children. 

Her type of piety was earnest and active, leading her 
— notwithstanding her constitutional timidity — to make 
untiring efforts for the conversion of souls. She was 
greatly interested in the young, particularly those who 
were students in college, and improved every opportu- 


nity to direct their attention to the way of salvation, or, 
if they were professors of religion, to urge upon them 
entire consecration to Christ. There were, probably, 
very few of her young friends with whom she did not 
have personal and serious conversation on the subject of 
preparation for eternity. She assisted in the formation of 
the "Maternal Association," in the church with which she 
was connected, and her labors to promote the success of 
this society undoubtedly hastened her final illness. 

But her eflbrts to benefit those with whom she came 
in contact were not confined to any age or condition in 
life. She lost no opportunity — whether within her own 
social circle, or among her casual acquaintances, or in 
her frequent ministries of consolation to the afflicted and 
bereaved, or in her charitable visits to the poor and friend- 
less — of manifesting her deep concern for their spiritual 
welfare. She had great faith in prayer, and was accus- 
tomed to seek divine direction in every undertaking, not 
only of parental government and religious effort, but even 
of domestic detail. 

" Her maternal character was peculiarly worthy of 
imitation. It is rare to see a mother who appeared to 
enjoy her children with so deep and tender an emotion. 
She seemed perfectly happy to witness their innocent 
playfulness, and especially to reciprocate their opening 
affection. Her care of their bodies and minds was inces- 
sant, amounting to a sort of limited omnipresence. What- 
ever else engaged her attention, she could not forget her 
children. But with all this strong attachment, she per- 
mitted no fault to pass unnoticed or uncorrected. She 
never suffered them to disobey her, but blended with her 
love a most persuasive, yet always efficient, authority." 

The illness of Mrs. Wayland, although not of long du- 
ration, was painful and distressing in the extreme. 

Dr. Wayland writes to her brother, March 4, 1S34, — 

" Lucy is exceedingly feeble. I know not what more 
to say. If she be spared, it will be a special and pecu- 
liar mercy. She suffers less than when I last wrote, but 


is greatly prostrated. I can sometimes look up with faith ; 
but when I see her extreme debihty, I hardly dare to hope. 
I can only say, ' If it be possible, let this cup pass from 
me ; ' and then leave her with the gracious and merciful 
Savior. Pray for me and for us all." 

To his parents : — - 

" Providence, March 12, 1834. 

" I observe that it was Leigh Richmond's practice to 
write to his mother annually, on his birthday. It struck 
me as a very appropriate custom, and I resolved to 
adopt it. Yesterday, however, which was my birthday, 
I was too unwell to write. My letter of to-day is the 
best evidence I can give of my intention to follow so good 
an example. 

" Since I last wrote, Lucy has been on the border of 
the grave, where she still remains. I fear you will never 
see her again. She seems to be growing weaker and 
weaker, and from one day to another her departure is 
expected. She frequently speaks of you, and desires an 
interest in your prayers. This I know she has. I hope 
that I may soon receive a letter from you containing some 
words of consolation for her. She is remarkably patient, 
although in great distress ; and while she has not that 
sense of pardon for which she longs, she gives to her 
friends clear e-vidence that she is a child of God. 

" You will, I know, desire to know my feelings under 
this affliction. It is the severest stroke I have ever been 
called upon to bear. I can, however, say, if I do not 
mistake, that I lay my vj'ik at the feet of Jesus, praying, 
' If thou canst do anything for me, help me ; but if not, 
glorify thy name.* I needed this affliction. There is 
not a single bearing of it that I have not needed. I hope 
it is the correction of a Father, and that he in faithfulness 
afflicts me. Although his hand presses me very sore, I 
think I would not have a finger removed unless as God 
wills. I believe that my prevalent desire is, that this sor- 
row may be sanctified to me, to my family, to the college, 
to the church, and to the world. Let me entreat you to 
wrestle with me in prayer that this con-ection may not be 
in vain. 

"• I did not, however, intend to write as a husband, but 
as a son. This day reminds me of the solicitude you 


have both felt for me, of the self-denial you have prac- 
tised for me, of the prayers you have offered to God for 
me, of the exhortations, the warnings, the reproofs, you 
have been obliged thi'ough my sinfulness to administer 
to me. 

" For all these, my dear parents, I am glad to have this 
opportunitv of thanking and blessing you. And this day 
also reminds me of my disobedience and thoughtlessness, 
of my waywardness and obstinacy, of the thousand times, 
in boyhood, and youth, and manhood, when I must have 
wounded your feelings. For all this, I would here with 
tears implore the forgiveness of my heavenly Father, and 
of you, the best of earthl}' parents. Never have I ceased 
to be sensible of your goodness, and always have I de- 
lighted to attribute whatever little success I may have had, 
more to you than to myself. 

'' My paper is almost filled, but I must make room to 
add that God is doing a glorious work in college. Nearly 
half — certainly more than a third — of those who were 
thoughtless at the commencement of the term, have ex- 
pressed a hope in Christ. We look forward to still greater 
triumphs of the Holy Spirit. Help us to pray for it, and 
although our earthly comforts wither, may God still visit 
us with his rich salvation. Remember me most affec- 
tionately to the family. Lucy frequently speaks of you all. 
May we be prepared for a sick bed and a dying hour." 

To the same : — 

" Providence, Friday, April 4, 1S34. 

" It has pleased God in his holy providence to take 
dear Lucy to himself. She was released from her great 
distress last evening, at about half past five o'clock. Her 
sufferings were severe ; but, so far as we could discover, 
her mind was clear, and her last wcn-d was, ' Pray.' I 
cannot say more at present, but will soon W'rite to you all. 
I can only beg a renewed interest in your prayers that I 
may be sustained, and especially that I may be sanctified 
and made more humble and holy." 

To his father, April 17, 1S34: — 

" Your very acceptable letter reached me on my return 
from New York, whither I was called by business. I 
should have gone to Saratoga Springs to visit you, but 
I felt that my little family needed my presence ; and 


also it seemed to me that when God afflicts us, it is not 
pleasing to him for us to run away from his dispensation. 
Where his hand is upon us, there I suppose he means us 
to be. I have thought that one of the most important 
considerations connected with afflictions is, that they are 
a special and very costly means of grace. Is not this evi- 
dent from David's remark, ' Precious in the sight of the 
Lord is the death of his saints' ? This has been to me one 
of the most solemn views connected with my bereave- 
ment. I never so much felt the need of the prayers of 
those who love me, as for this one thing — that this afflic- 
tion might be sanctified to me. I see that afflictions, of 
themselves, are by no means sanctification. They are 
only means, and are useful only as they are attended 
by the influences of the Holy Spirit. For these I have 
not ceased to pray, and I beg you to pray not so much 
for present support, as for great and peculiar sanctifica- 
tion. Your remark that you have found afflictions blessed 
to you is a great comfort to me. I pray God that I may 
have the same rich experience." 

To his parents : — 

" Providence, June 6, 1834. 

"Your very acceptable and consoling letter was duly 
received, and I have ever since been seeking daily for an 
opportunity to answer it. But the fact is, that, in addi- 
tion to my college duties, there seems a special door 
opened in several ways to be useful in the dissemination 
of religious truth ; and I have been thus so constantly oc- 
cupied that I have been obliged to take every mom'ent I 
could get for sleep and exercise. As it is, although my 
health is good, yet it is barely sufficient for the accom- 
plishment of what I have to do. 

" You refer to my apparent depression of spirits. Per- 
haps it is so. The affliction is continually present with 
me, and casts a gloom over everything. It is not the acute 
anguish that it was, but rather like the dull, heavy, contin- 
ued throbbing after a grievous, lacerating wound. You 
will say this ought not to be ; the Lord hath done all 
things well ; has glorified his name, and will glorify it 
again. I believe and know this, and hope that this pain 
will work in me the peaceable fruits of righteousness. I 
would not alter the Lord's doing, and am sometimes melt- 


ed at bis ^odness. I would not but have drunk the cup. 
Still it is very bitter, and the rod is very heavy, and it re- 
quires a strong eflbrt of faith and hope to receive it as 
I ought. 

" I know that it is the Christian's privilege to rejoice in 
the Lord always, and to be exceedingly joyful in all trib- 
ulation ; but I cannot say that I have as yet attained to this. 
I think, however, that I can truly say that I have sought 
consolation nowhere else, and desire it from no other 
source. My prayer has been, and is, that God would glo- 
rify his name in this event, cause me to be sanctified by it, 
and make me habitually heavenly-minded. I have a com- 
fortable hope that he will do this, although I have not the 
evidence of its actual accomplishment which I could de- 

" I wish that I could give you a more cheering account 
of my feelings. Perhaps the cold and wet weather, which 
has in a measure deprived me of exercise, has had some 
effect. I do most sincerely thank you for your tender 
sympathy and your prayers, which I believe will be 

He writes to his mother, September 28, 1S34, — 

" I know that I want nothing but a large effusion of 
the Holy Spirit, and the presence of Christ in my own soul, 
to render me perfectly happy. There are sad reminis- 
cences everywhere around me, and everything which I 
hear or see recalls them to my mind. But they ought to 
point me to heaven, and bid me reflect how those who 
have gone before are spending their eternity, and how wc, 
who expect to follow them, ought to be spending our time. 
I seem to myself to be feebly striving after more holiness, 
and longing to be more conformed to the image of Christ. 
But I make, at the best, such tardy, such almost impercep- 
tible progress, I am so frequently overcome by temptation, 
that I am at times ready to give up all for lost. God has 
bestowed upon me abundant means of grace. The situa- 
tion in which I am placed, the responsibility of so many 
young men, the various opportunities which I enjoy for 
making others better, should call me to the very highest 
attainments in holiness. Besides this, he has laid upon 
me an affliction which comes upon me daily, and which 
is in its nature peculiarly fitted to lead the mind to heaven. 


When I consider all these things, and my own sin and un- 
faithfulness, I am almost overwhelmed. My only refuge 
is in that blood which cleanses from all sin. I hope, my 
dear mother, that you can tell me some way of making 
more rapid progress in divine things, and of gaining more 
deadness to the Vv'orld and more close and vital union to 

" I can hardly say how much I thank you for your late 
visit. It was very kind in you to travel so far to see me 
in my loneliness. I pray God to reward you, and in 
some way or other to make your coming a blessing to 
us all." 

To his sister, October 27, 1834: — 

"... I am daily working at my Moral Philosophy, 
carrying on the business of the college, and endeavoriag 
to do my duty as best I can. My little boys are doing 
well, and I have much to be thankful for. Still my house 
is lonely, my avocations without stimulus, and I go on in 
a steady, monotonous sort of way. I try to live reli- 
giously ; to maintain a temper- of faith, and hope, and 
resignation. Sometimes I trust that I succeed ; but I am 
very frequently far off again, and need the use of every 
means to bring me back. How blessed a doctrine is the 
intercession of Christ to such poor sinners ! How strong 
is the ground of hope ! How near it brings us in union 
with Christ and heaven ! " 

Writing, in 1S34, to a relative, he says, — 

"... I am constantly employed, and suffer mainly 
from a sort of dulness, a steady monotony of occupation, 
affording no play to the feelings to which I have been 
accustomed, combined with a sense of sadness and lacer- 
ated recollection which meets me in everything I see and 
surprises me in everything I do. Yet this is a portion of 
the cup which has been poured out for me by my Father 
in heaven, and I feel happy whenever I can bow in sub- 
mission to just what he appoints." 

To his parents : — 

" Providence, November iS, 1S34. 

" Your very kind letter was duly received, for which 
accept my warmest thanks. I rejoice to hear of the im- 


proving health of my mother, and that when you wrote, 
everything was going on so pleasantly w'ith you. 

" It has pleased our heavenly Father to enter your 
pleasant circle by death. I know what it is by sad expe- 
rience, and thought of you much and often during the 
Sabbath day of your trial, and since that event. Though 
your consolations in this case abound, yet there is a deep 
and awful sadness in the death of those we love which 
nothing can remove. Indeed, I am not sure that it ought 
to be removed. It seems as if the veil which separates 
time from eternity were for a space withdrawn, and we 
almost became inhabitants of the other world. I trust 
that as your affliction has abounded, your consolation has 
yet more abounded, and that you have already seen, and 
may still more see, its good effects upon the other mem- 
bers of your family. 

" How sweetly and how fully was the dear child pre- 
pared, and in how short a time ! I have thought that a 
brief account of her conversion, sickness, and death might 
be very profitable to the young, and might be a valuable 
addition to our narratives of pious children. 

"... I am quite alone, but this very loneliness may 
be of service to me. It is a path that I have never trod- 
den before. I think its tendency is to wean the mind 
froin creatures, and, if sanctified by the Holy Spirit, must 
also tend to fix the affections upon God. I hope that it 
renders the truths of religion more precious to me, and 
the doctrine of the atonement more my companion than 
formerly. We need to have our v^^ills subdued to the 
will of Chi"ist in all manners and by all methods. It is 
necessary to learn to do his will, to suffer his will, to 
make him our trust and confidence ; and he knows best the 
methods which will most successfully accomplish this 
holy purpose. 

" Occupied so continually as I am and have been for 
a long time in w^orldly business, perhaps this is the only 
way in which I could be taught the lesson. If he will 
only sanctify it to me, I think I am willing to bear it so 
long as he shall lay his hand upon me. That is, I shall 
be w'illing so long as he grants me grace to subdue my 
will to his. Otherwise I shall rebel and repine in a mo- 
ment, and say with Jonah, ' I do well to be angry.' " 


"Providence, March 11, 1835. 

" My dear Parents : A year since I wrote to you under 
the immediate visitation of the chastening of God. In one 
room lay dear Lucy on the bed of sickness unto death, 
and in the other I had been confined for some days, with 
barely sufficient strength to write to you. How many the 
chansres which have been meted out to me since then ! 
After three weeks more of most afflictive suffering, dear 
Lucy was released, to join, as I doubt not, the general 
assembly and church of the first born. What a glorious 
year has it been to her ! What attainment in holiness has 
she made before this ! How must our sluggishness in the 
cause of Christ seem to her now ! and how precious every 
self-denial "for the Savior's sake, every sigh of penitence, 
and every breathing after holiness ! Let us learn how to 
live here, by I'cflecting how the saints above must, at the 
present moment, look down upon our actions. 

" As for myself, I have to sing of mercy and of judg- 
ment. I hope that this affliction has been sent by the 
chastening hand of a covenant-keeping God. It seems to 
me, if I do not deceive myself, that my will is somewhat 
more subdued than formerly ; that I long more for holi- 
ness, and see more desirableness in the Christian graces. I 
hope that I have some clearer views of the holiness of the 
law of God, and of the way of salvation by Christ, and a 
more prevalent desire to go out of myself, and to be found 
alone in Him who loved me and gave himself for me. 

" If these are the fruits of affliction, it surely ought not 
to be grievous, but rather joyous. And although these 
blessed results are infinitely less than they should be, and 
much less than others have enjoyed, yet I would bless 
God for his faithfulness in answering my poor supplica- 
tions in the day of my trial. 

" But besides these, I have many other mercies to re- 
cord. The lives of all the rest of our immediate family 
have been spared, especially that of dear mother, of late 
brought very low. This is a cause for fervent and united 
thanksgiving from one and all of us. Let us praise his 
holy name for this, and also for the comforts of his presence 
which he granted both to mother, when sick, and to you, 
my dear father, when you were threatened with so severe 
a bereavement. For so many kind brothers and sisters, 
who, with you, have been permitted to visit me, I would 


also thank the Lord. It was a great mercy to me in my 
loneliness and sorrow. For the kind provision wliich God. 
has made for my dear little boys, I ought to be very grate- 
ful. I give thanks to God that I am able to have them 
with me, instead of seeing them scattered abroad, as some 
children have been under similar circumstances. I desire 
also to be thankful that God inclined me to take the chargfe 
of them myself, rather than intrust them to the care of 
others. This has been, I think, a blessing to them and to 
me. They are more attached to me, and I am to them ; 
and I believe that they have improved in character and 
conduct, notwithstanding their irreparable loss. 

" For the health which we have all enjoyed, I would 
also return thanks. I do not think that we have passed 
any year with so little sickness, or one in whieh my 
children would not have suffered more severely for the 
want of the attentions of their dear mother. Then God 
has enabled me, notwithstanding all my domestic cares, 
to accomplish more study and writing than in any previous 
year. He has, since you were here, brought me nearly 
to the close of my work on moral philosophy, which has 
cost me a good deal of labor. And this in addition to 
my other labors in college, and as many extra duties as 

" Thus you see that I have abundant reason to speak 
well of his name. What an infinite mercy is it to be 
called by his grace ! still more to be chastened for our 
good, and still more to have the chastisement attended 
with so many unmerited and peculiar blessings. 

" I sometimes feel lonely, although not so much so as I 
feared. I think that God lias ordered my present arrange- 
ments in mercy, and that they are the best which, under 
the circumstances, could have been made. It is a most 
grateful recollection to look back and see that when we 
knew not what to do, and committed our way unto the 
Lord, he directed our steps. Especially has this been the 
case when we had no experience to guide us, and could 
not possibly tell, of two ways, which was the better." 

" Pkovidence, March 11, 1836. 

" My very dear Mother: I am again reminded of my 
promise, made some time since, to write to you on my 
birthday. I fulfil it with great pleasure, in the hope 

VOL. L 24 


that whenever your health will permit, — but not other- 
wise, — you will send me a few lines in return. 

" I cannot think of this period without again calling to 
mind the scenes through which I was passing two years 
ago this day. The bitterness of that season I can never 
forget, although time has somewhat blunted the edge of 
the pain. Throughout the period which has since elapsed, 
God has graciously supported me, and in mercy led me 
along all my path. My bread has been given me, and my 
water has been sure. All my wants have been richly 
supplied. My house has been in peace, and my children 
in health. . . . They are very fond of me, and, I believe, 
try, especially of late, to obey me from love. They got 
through the whole of last week without a single reproof. 

"■ It has also pleased God to give me unusual success 
in my labors since he saw fit to afBict me. I think I have 
never done so much writing, nor, so far as I can judge, 
with so good success. I hope that what I have published 
during the past year may be useful, both to the more ad- 
vanced and to the young. For all this I have unspeakable 
reason to be thankful, and, yet more, to be prayerful. It 
seems to me of not so much importance what we do, as 
what we do prayerfully. We have little reason to hope 
that our efforts to do good will succeed, unless they be 
sanctified with prayer ; and if they succeed, we shall 
derive only so much blessing as belongs to a right temper 
of mind. In this, I find myself, most of all, deficient. 
There is a restlessness about me which demands employ- 
ment. As soon as I have done with one thing, I must be 
engaged in another, or I am miserably downcast and un- 
happy. When my Moral Philosophy was finished, I was 
uneasy until the Political Economy was commenced ; and 
now that this is underway, I cannot willingly do anything 
else until it is comj^leted. 

" But to carry on the spiritual work which ought to 
accompany and sanctify these things, and make them 
really sacrifices to the blessed Savior, — this I find to be 
a very diflerent and vastly more ditficult work. I dis- 
cover in myself no tendency to holiness. Whatever in me 
is holy, is the work of the Spirit, and of him alone. Yet 
I strive, if I do not mistake, to maintain a spiritual mind. 
I pray, and, I think, labor, to live near to God. Some- 
times I seem to gain some little nearness to Christ, and 


feel a temper of submission to his commandments ; but 
soon I find myself again longing foi* the sources of this 
world's happiness, or murmuring against the dispensa- 
tions of Providence, or else so engi'ossed in my studies 
that all I have gained is lost, and I am once more the 
sport of wild afiections, unreasonable desires, and all the 
corruptions of the human heart. 

" I hope, however, that the Savior does not leave me 
entirely desolate. He brings me back again at times, and 
fills me with confusion at my own waywardness and sin. I 
hope the result of all his dealings with me will be to show 
me more than I have ever before known of the wickedness 
and deceitfulness of the heart of man, of my own utter 
helplessness by reason of sin, and of the absolute necessity 
of relying on the Savior for strength as well as for pardon. 
I think I see more of my need of the righteousness of 
Christ, and that I am only complete in him. But I am re- 
minded of what Fuller, or Cecil, — I forget which, — calls 
a ' dry faith.' I see these things. I think I can rest my 
soul upon them. At times I mourn over my sins, but I 
am confounded when I reflect upon my want of aflection 
and love to the Savior. I know that in Christ is all that 
is calculated to draw out the warmest love and desire for 
his person — the same fervor of attachment which we feel 
for a near and beloved friend, only infinitely purer and 
more intense. But here I feel my great deficiency. My 
afiections seem paralyzed. I long for the love which I 
ought to feel, but I do not feel it. I desire to be like him ; 
I desire to obey him. I lament my waywardness and 
folly. I think I would part with everything for more holi- 
ness. But still my heart is unwarmed ; my afiections are 
unmoved ; yet I long, and pray, and trust I may yet feel 
his love shed abroad in my heart. 

" I will not apologize for writing so much about myself, 
for, knowing so well your kindness and forbearance, I am 
sure that you will willingly read anything even on such a 
subject as this — my poor, miserable, and sluggish feel- 
ings, and my hard, rebellious heart- 

"• I rejoice, iny dear mother, that you have been spared 
during the past winter, and have got through it so much 
better than the last, although it has been violently cold 
and severe. The river here is still frozen — a tlnng that, 
I presume, has not occurred for a great many years. I 


bless God that he has spared you to counsel, guide, and 
pray for us for another year. I believe that we have all 
been greatly assisted in our various employments by the 
prayers of dear father and j^ourself. Doubtless it some- 
times seems to you trying that you are confined to your 
chamber and unable to render much active assistance to 
your family. But, my dear mother, you little know how 
much you are doing. Probably no part of your life was 
ever spent so profitably. Think how many of us are en- 
gaged in, I hope, not useless duties. If the labor of any 
one of us is made more effectual through your prayers, — 
and of this I have no manner of doubt, — you are working, 
not with one pair of hands, but with sevei"al ; not in ©ne 
place, but in many places ; not in one sphere of duty, but 
in various, and all of them interesting spheres of duty. Be 
not, then, discouraged or disheartened, inasmuch as your 
labor is not in vain in the Lord." 

April 7, 1835, he writes to a relative, — 

"... I bless God for what you write respecting young 
. These are the unmerited rewards which God 

sometimes giv^es us. It is, I believe, greatly in answer to 
the prayers of that sweet saint who now sleeps in Jesus. 
I have felt that, so far as I am concerned, it was worth 
going through all the affliction I have suffered during the 
past year, to have been made the instrument in the hands 
of the Savior of being useful to one soul — especially of 
one who is likely to be so useful to others." 

It will have been observed that he counted it as one of 
the crowning mercies vouchsafed to him by a compassion- 
ate and covenant-keeping God, that he was permitted to 
have his surviving children with him, "■ instead of seeing 
them scattered abroad, as some children have been under 
similar circumstances." For his sons, deprived at so early 
an age of the constant care and fostering love of a mother, 
his parental solicitude was manifested in many ways. He 
devoted himself with renewed zeal to their mental and 
moral training. He joined in their childish sports, and 
sj-mpathized with their youthful feelings. Alany a visitor 
was surprised, when, calling upon the president at his 


residence, to find him stretched at full length upon the 
floor, engaged in a frolic with his boys, and abundantly 
enjoying their wild delight when they were allowed to 
believe that they had conquered their father. Often, as 
they met him on the college green returning from his 
study, he would carry them home on his shoulders, much 
to the amusement of those who witnessed this exhibition of 
parental affection. He made them his companions in his 
walks, in his exercise in the garden or the wood-shed, and 
took them with him during his brief journeys, whenever his 
engaeements did not conflict with the care and oversight 
which their youth and inexperience required. Writing 
to a relative, February 20, 1835, he says, — 

" My few leisure hours are almost all spent with my 
children, and I always feel guilty when I neglect them. 
They need all my time and attention." 

But there were hours for study as well as for relaxation. 
The efforts of the faithful teacher to impart instruction 
suited to their tender years were efficiently aided by 
home discipline. Reports from school of good conduct 
and diligent attention to lessons were always rewarded in 
such a manner as to encourage obedience and industry, 
while idle or wayward habits were promptly but kindly 
corrected. Dr. Wayland was fond of entertaining his 
children with stories of his own invention, or founded upon 
incidents in his early life. These were frequently con- 
tinued from evening to evening for weeks, and were eager- 
ly anticipated and intensely enjoyed by his little hearers. 
From time to time he read to them books combining 
amusement with instruction — such as Sandford and Mer- 
ton, Robinson Crusoe, Swiss Family Robinson, and the 
Parents' Assistant. 

On Sabbath evenings it was his invariable custom' to 
give them biblical instruction in the form of Scripture nar- 
rative. The lives of the Old and New Testament worthies 
— especial reference being had to the recox'ded incidents 

374 ^^^^ ^^ FRANCIS WAYLAND. 

of their boyhood — were presented so simply and with 
such frequent enforcement of the practical lessons to be 
learned, as to render the hours so spent not only full of 
interest, but rich in the inculcation of religious truth. 

Thus did he teach his sons to look upon their father as 
their best earthly friend, while seeking, at the same time, 
to fasten their affections upon that Savior who took little 
children in his arms and blessed them. 

Time had not blunted the edge of his great sorrow be- 
fore he was visited with a fresh afl[liction. On the 5th of 
December, 1836, his mother, so fondly loved and so ten- 
derly revered, was taken to her eternal rest. He writes 
to his bereaved father, December 8, 1836, — 

" • • • Of the bitterness of your sorrow I can form some 
conception. I know you will say that before this you had 
hardly known the meaning of affliction, and had scarcely 
felt the chastening hand of our heavenly Father. Rarely 
has any husband lost such a wife, rarely have children 
lost such a mother. You have felt that the light of 
your tabernacle is put out, that the glory of your house 
is departed, that you have been cleft in twain by a single 
stroke, and that the bleeding wound is exposed to pain 
from even the touch of your nearest friends. 

" But while all this is so, let us look to the hills from 
whence cometh our help. When my spirit is overwhelmed 
within me, TJioti knowest the path that I take. No afflic- 
tion for the present seemeth joyous, but grievous ; yet after- 
wards it worketh the peaceful fruits of righteousness to 
those that are exercised thereby. Whom the Lord lovetli 
he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. 
Let us, then, endeavor to look upon this dispensation in the 
light of the sanctuary, and survey those points in which it 
may melt and humble our hearts in gratitude. This I 
have found to be the best balm to a wounded spirit. When 
we can look up to God in gratitude and love, we etxn say, 
almost in exultation. These light afflictions, which are but 
for a moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory. 

" How thankful should we be to God for giving to our 
dear mother so superior a mind, so accurate and discrim- 


inatlng a judgment, so strong and expansive a thirst for 
knowledge, such tender and enduring affections, so warm 
and self-denying a charity, and, above all, that he sanctified 
all these excellent qualities by callingher so early to a knowl- 
edge of himself! How can we be sufficiently grateful to 
him for that grace which he bestowed upon her in caus- 
ing her path through life to be that of the just that shineth 
more and more unto the perfect day, and throughout her 
whole course i-endering her so bright, so illustrious an ex- 
ample of the excellency of his grace, so that, wherever she 
lived, wherever she was known, in public or in private, 
among Christians or men and women of the world, among 
the young or old, every one loved, every one venerated 
her, every one was willingly constrained to confess that 
she was an Israelite indeed, a chosen and much beloved 
disciple of Christ ! How great reason have we to be thank- 
ful that she has been spared to us so long, and has been in 
so many cases our guide and counsellor, that all her chil- 
dren have grown up to love and honor her, and that we 
have all had for so long a time the blessing of her advice, 
her example, and her prayers ! How great reason have we 
to be thankful that her mind was spared to the last, that 
so many of those she loved were around her bed, that 
Christ was with her, and that, as she was entering into rest, 
she was permitted to look back upon us, and to say to us, 
' All's weir ! And all is now well with thee, beloved saint. 
That aching head now rests upon thy Savior's breast ; that 
heavinsf bosom shall throb no more with sorrow, or an- 
guish, or regret, or repentance. Thou art now a pillar 
in the temple of thy God. Thou hast eaten of the hidden 
manna. Thou hast washed thy robes and made them 
white in the blood of the Lamb. He that sitteth on the 
throne hath wiped away all tears from thine eyes. Thou 
art now forever with the Lord. We have seen thee ascend 
as in a chariot of fii-e. O that thy mantle may rest upon 
us who remain ! 

"•My dear father, let us comfort each other with these 
words. I pray God to be with you, to strengthen, comfort, 
stablish you, and make you to come out of this fire, as 
gold seven times purified. 

Your affectionate and sympathizing son." 

To his sister in a letter of the same date : — 


" That I am with you in spirit, my dearest sister, I need 
not say. I feel indeed as though I were really with you. 
I go from room to room. I gaze with you on that form 
which so lately moved among us, on those lips from which 
we have received our best instructions, on those eyes 
which always beamed on us with love, and which, I fear, 
we have often caused to fill with tears : and I witness that 
calm, heavenly composure shining upon the tabernacle 
from which a glorified spirit has so lately departed. I 
feel deeply the loss which I have sustained in not being 
with you, to hear the last words and catch the latest ex- 
hortations of so blessed a saint. 

"What a treasure have we, in the recollections of such a 
mother ! What a blessing to have such an assurance, such 
a consciousness even, that she is now present with the 
Lord ! It seems almost as though we had seen the chariot 
of fire in which she ascended, and heard her song of glory 
coming back to us after she had left the house of her 

" I pray God, my dear sister, to be with you and help 
you. The chasm in your circle can only be filled by the 
presence of God himself. No arm can sustain you but the 
arm of omnipotence. House, and home, and earthly hap- 
piness are words of which the signification has wonderful- 
ly departed, and afiliction has acquired a meaning which 
it never before possessed. Yet let us look up to God as 
our Father, and cherish more fondly our love for the 
Savior as earthly affections are dried up." 

To his father, January 3, 1837 • — 

" I have thought much of you, my dear father, and my 
dear sisters, at the return of these anniversaries. I know 
how different they are to you from any which you have 
before spent. I know by experience how they bring with 
them all the thronging recollections of years past, and the 
contrast between what is and what has been seems at 
times too much for the heait to endure. Such, I know, 
have been your feelings at the present time. But even 
to this there is a bright side. We may look beyond the 
grave, and think on the contrast which must be experi- 
enced by souls in heaven. How different their Sabbaths, 
their anniversai'ies, from ours ! I have thought frequently 
of our Lord's remark to his disciples. ' And now I go 


my \vay to him that sent me, and none of you asketh mc, 
Whither goest thou? but because I liave said these things, 
sorrow hatli filled your hearts.' ' None of you asketh me,' 
as though he had said, If you were to ask me whither I 
am going, and were to reflect upon the exaltation to which 
I am to be raised, you would sorrow no more, but your 
sorrow would be turned into joy. Thus, I suppose, it 
should be with us. We should remember the crowns that 
our beloved ones wear, the palms of victory which they 
cany, the robe of righteousness with which they are 
clothed, the rewards which God has given to all their 
labors, and sorrows, and self-denials, and thus we should 
the less grieve at their departure. 

" I bless God, my dear father, for the special and pe- 
culiar support which he has granted you, and for the 
abundant manifestation of his presence with which he 
has cheered you. At such an hour as this, what could 
you have done without him and the light of his coun- 
tenance? Let us be thankful for all that is past, and even 
over the graves of those we love, erect our Ebenezer, say- 
ing, Hitherto the Lord has helped us." 

To his sister : — 

" Your very welcome letter came duly to hand. I bless 
God that he supported you through that trying scene — 
the most trying that a child can ever witness. But, my 
dear S., wdiat a blessing it is to have had such a mother ! 
I do not know anywhere so perfect a character. She looks 
to me not merely bright, but spotless. How expansive and 
universal her love to ever^'body, but how tender, how en- 
dearing to us ! How boundless, and how full of forethought 
her self-denial ! LIow meek and how gentle her spirit ! 
How pure and heavenly her thoughts, and how strong and 
unwavering her faith ! As you say, we ought to have 
been, and we ought to be, very different from others. We 
should be specially grateful to the Savior for all his good- 
ness to her, and specially for his goodness to her at 
the last. 

" We must collect all of her letters. I regret that they 
were so few, but they are invaluable. The letter she 
wrote to me on the death of Lucy, and all that she has 
ever written to me, are perfect of their kind, and breathe 
the very spirit which animated her. 


" I hope this week to look over my letters and select 
hers from them. It" we all do this, we may be able to 
form a delightful little memorial of her. She wrote me 
on my birthdays, and occasionally wrote also with dear 
father at different times. What a blessed testimony she 
left everywhere to young and old, at home and abroad ! 
What do we not owe to her prayei^s and her example ! It 
has frequently seemed to me, that whatever success any 
of us has had, has been much more the result of the 
prayers of our parents than of our own exertions, or any- 
thing in ourselves. Let us all strive to be like her, and 
then we shall be with her. But especially would I imitate 
her lovely humility, her child-like meekness, her touching 
self-denial and disinterestedness, and her tender and affect- 
ing charity. These were her peculiar gx-aces, and she 
seemed to have learned the art of imitating the Savior 
most successfully. It was a type of character to which 
very fev/ attain. And, blessed saint, how little did she 
beHeve that she possessed it ! 

" I feel most deeply for dear father. I praise God for 
the support which he is receiving. Nothing but help 
from on high could hold him up, severed, crushed, as he 
is. But I see that in the furnace one walks ' with him 
like unto the Son of God, and the smell of fire shall not 
even pass upon him.' Yet no one who has not gone 
through this furnace can tell how hot it is ; and it is im- 
possible that any can be more severe than that which 
now surrounds him. There have been few such unions ; 
so long, so harmonious, so entirely happy. May God be 
with him yet. We will be all to him that we can, and 
will unite to render his sorrow as light as possible. And 
let us remember the voice of the dear departed saint, and 
be drawn closer together by this overwhelming stroke." 



" elements of moral science." its reception. 

translations. " elements of political econ- 
omy." " limitations of human responsibility." 

second marriage. rhode island hall and the 

president's house. 

DURING these years of affliction, Dr. Wayland's de- 
votion to his official duties never abated. He 
wasted no time in unprofitable grief. While with Chris- 
tian resignation he bowed meekly under the chastening 
hand of his Maker, and sought to learn the true lessons 
of these providences, he did not overlook the importance 
of preserving a healthy mental tone by constant occupa- 
tion. Writing, in 1S37, ^*^ ^ relative who had recently 
suffered a sevei'e bereavement, he says, — 

" May God support you, my brother. Be engaged in 
duty as much as possible. If you ai'c for a moment 
unemployed, 30U may not be able to bear your sorrow. 
Prayer and duty are the supports which we must seek in 
such afflictions. If I had not labored to the utmost limit 
of my strength, it seems to me that I must have sunk." 

We have already seen that he did not content himself 
with following the text-books which he found in use when 
he became president, and that he very soon began to 
deliver lectures to his pupils upon moral philosophy and 
political economy. The increased interest imparted to 
the exercises of the class-room by this mode of instruc- 
tion naturally suggested the idea of publishing these lec- 
tures in the form of treatises upon the subjects taught. 


He first prepared for the press his Elements of Moral 

With what motives and in what tcm^per of mind this 
labor was commenced, will appear by an extract from 
his journal, December 22, 1833 : — 

" I have thought of publishing a work on moral phi- 
losophy. Direct me, O thou all-wise and pure Spirit. 
Let me not do it unless it be for thy glory and the good 
of men. If I should do it, may it be all true, so far as 
human knowledge at present extends. Enlighten, guide, 
and teach me so that I may write something which shall 
show thy justice more clearly than heretofore, and the 
necessity and excellency of the plan of salvation by Christ 
Jesus, the blessed Redeemer. All which I ask through 
his merits alone. Amen." 

He writes to his sister December 26, 1S34 : — 

"... I have wrought at my work with only tolerable 
success. It is slower labor than one would suppose ; but 
if it proves to be true, and does anything towards settling 
points in ethics which were before considered doubtful, it 
matters not how long it takes. The shortest time in which 
anything can be done is precisely the time necessary to do 
it well. This saves subsequent labor, and it is better to 
aim at correctness than to repair incorrectness." 

To the same, February 28, 1835 : — 

" I am getting towards the close of my moral philos- 
ophy, which, if it proves of any value, will be a good 
work done. It has cost me a great deal of time and 
thought, for which I hope the world will be better." 

To the same, May 14, 1835 • — 

"... My book (Elements of Moral Science) is out 
to-day, and you will soon receive a copy. I want you all 
to read it through as soon as your other duties will per- 
mit, and let me know candidly wdiat is the first impres- 
sion it makes upon you. If I can get the honest criti- 
cism of a few candid persons, I can easily judge how it 
will strike the rest of the world. I suppose it is natural 
and innocent to desire it to succeed, and right to wish 
that, if it be the will of God, it may be useful." 


June 6, 1S35, he writes in his journal, — 

" During the year succeeding my affliction, God enabled 
me to prcpai-c and publish my work on moral philosophy, 
a labor on which I had long been meditating. I have en- 
deavored to make known the ways of God to man. Lord 
God of Hosts, I commend to thee, through Jesus Christ 
thy Son, this work. May it promote the cause of truth, of 
peace, and of righteousness. I lay it before thee, and cast 
it at thy feet. I humbly pray that thy good Spirit may cause 
whatever of it is true to be believed, received, and prac- 
tised, and whatever is false to be discovered, refuted, and 
confounded, so that it ma}' do good and no harm to thy 
cause. But when I consider the greatness of such an 
undertaking, and the good it may accomplish, if success- 
ful, what am I, that I should hope for so much favor? I 
dare not; on]}', my God, if it should please thee for thy 
Son's sake to condescend thus to use me, make me hum- 
ble and grateful, and let me give all the glory to thy holy 

In the preface to the first edition of the Elements of 
Moral Science, Dr. Wayland explains at some length the 
design with which the volume was prepared, and the rea- 
sons which induced him to publish it as a text-book. 

" When it became my duty to instruct in moral philos- 
ophy in Brown University, the text-book in use was the 
work of Dr. Paley. From many of his principles I found 
myself compelled to dissent, and at first contented myself 
with stating to my classes my objections to the author, 
and offering my views in the form of familiar conver- 
sations upon several of the topics which he discusses. 
These views, for my own convenience, I soon committed 
to paper, and delivered in the form of lectures. In a few 
years these lectures had become so extended, that, to my 
surprise, they contained in themselves the elements of a 
different system from that of the text-book which I was 
teaching. To avoid the inconvenience of teaching two dif- 
ferent systems, I undertook to reduce them to order, and 
to make such additions as would render the work complete 
in itself. I then relinquished the work of Dr. Paley, and 
for some time have been in the habit of instructing solely 
by lecture. The success of the attempt exceeded my ex- 


pectations, and encouraged me to hope that the publication 
of what I had dcHvered to my chisses might in some small 
degree facilitate the study of moral science. 

" From these circumstances the work has derived its 
character. Being designed for the purposes of instruc- 
tion, its aim is to be simple, clear, and purely didactic. 
I have rarely gone into extended discussion, but have con- 
tented myself with the attempt to state the moral law, and 
the reason of it, in as few and as comprehensive terms as 
possible. The illustration of the principles, and the ap- 
plication of them to cases in ordinary life, I have generally 
left to the instructor or to the student himself. Hence, 
also, I have omitted everything which relates to the his- 
tory of opinions, and have made but little allusion to the 
opinions themselves from which I dissent. To have acted 
otherwise would have extended the undertaking greatly 
beyond the limits which I had assigned to myself; and it 
seemed to me not to belong to the design which I had in 
viev\'. A work which should attempt to exhibit what was 
true appeared to me more desirable than one which should 
point out what was exploded, discuss what was doubtful, 
or disprove what was false. 

" In the course of the work I have quoted but few au- 
thorities, as in preparing it I have referred to but few 
books. I make this remark in no manner for the sake of 
laying claim to originallt}', but to avoid the impression 
of using the labors of others without acknowledgment. 
When I commenced the undertaking, I attempted to read 
extensively, but soon found it so difficult to arrive at any 
definite results in this manner, that the necessities of my 
situation obliged me to rely upon my own reflection. 
That I have thus come to the same conclusion with many 
others, I should be unwilling to doubt. When this coin- 
cidence of opinion has come to my knowledge, I have 
mentioned it. When it is not mentioned, it is because I 
have not known it. . . ." 

The success of the treatise, the origin and design of 
which are thus modestly described by its author, has long 
since become a matter of history. The clearness and in- 
dependence of its teachings, the elevation of its moral 
tone, the candor and ability of its discussions of practical 
ethics, and the humane and catholic spirit with which it 


is imbued, have given it a celebrity hardly less than 

The first edition was soon exhausted, and in September, 
1S35, a second was published. " It was almost immedi- 
ately adopted by a large number of the colleges, academies, 
and high schools of the country ; and although thirty 
years have since elapsed, it still holds its place, almost 
without a rival." * 

Meanwhile, the labors of the author were commended 
by those whose approval could not fail to afford him the 
highest gratification. Professor Moses Stuart writes, 
July 23, 1835,— 

" Thanks for your excellent book on morals. I have 
as yet found time to read but few chapters. Sed ex u?zgtie 
leo7iem. Brother Woods says, ' It is the first entirely 
Christian book of this kind that we have had.' " 

Chancellor Kent wa'ites, — 

" New York, July 25, 1S35. 

"Dear Sir: I have just finished the perusal of your 
work on the Elements of ISIoral Science. I have read it 
carefully and with deep interest. The first half of the 
volume, on theoretical and practical ethics, was by far the 
most interesting to me. The residue of the work, on 
the duties of man to man, led me over ground with which 
I have been familiar, and most of the topics are discussed 
at large in my Commentaries. Your views, however, on 
that branch of the subject are just and striking, as well as 
remarkably clear and sound. 

" Take the volume together, I do not know where to 
look for its equal. The results of natural religion are 
strikingly displayed. The chapters on Virtue, and on Love 
to God, or Piety, are masterly. I never read a discussion 
more interesting or aflecting, or one that set forth my own 
imperfections in a moi^e impressive light. Such discus- 
sions aftect me more than a thousand sermons, because 
the arguments are addressed so fairly and so rationally to 
the judgment and conscience of the reader. 

" Permit me, my dear sir, once more to return you my 

* Professor Chace's Commemorative Discourse. 


grateful and humble thanks for your admirable work, and 
to assure you of the high veneration and esteem of 
Your friend and obedient servant, 

, James Kent." 

His early and attached friend. Rev. R. Anderson, D. D., 
secretary of the American Board, wi'ote as follows : — 

" Boston, May 30, 1835. 

*' My dear Brother : . . . I desired to thank you in per- 
son for your invaluable work on moral science. How 
exquisite your satisfaction must have been in rearing the 
fabric of that noble science upon the foundation of the 
prophets and apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the chief 
corner-stone ! Be assured, my dear brother, that you have 
not lived in vain. I have not yet had time to commence 
the reading of the volume in course, but I have examined 
it carefully in those parts of the system which I deemed 
vital, and iu others which have, at present, a great prac- 
tical importance in our community, such as slavery, war, 
&c. ; and the whole appears to me to be founded upon a 
rock which cannot be moved. What strikes me very 
forcibly is, the very obvious relations of the diflerent parts 
of your system to each other. This strengthens the edifice 

" The existence of these relations is, indeed, no new 
thing ; but nowhere, to my knowledge, have they been 
rendered so obvious. This may be owing, in part, to the 
conciseness of your statements, but is far more to be at- 
tributed to your full and hearty recognition of certain great 
scriptural principles which lie at the foundation of morals. 
My dear brother, I rejoice, I give thanks to God, that I 
see nothing in you of that parleying with the world which 
is so fatal in Paley. You are bold and uncompromising, 
but not unreasonable, nor wanting in candor. I am not 
sure that your work will be, at once, received with gen- 
eral favor, though it will be generally read ; but I cannot 
doubt that it will ultimately carry the day, and exert a 
most auspicious influence, not only in the church, but on 
the politics of our nation, and on the whole structure of 
society. We needed a treatise on this subject which should 
become authority, and this will become such. ..." 

Far more gratifying to the author than such testimo- 


nials was the evidence which was furnished, from time to 
time, until the close of his life, of the influence which, by 
means of this work, he had been permitted to exert in 
leading souls to Christ. This was a most welcome answer 
to his earnest prayers that his labors might be sanctified 
to the glory of God and the good of his fellow-men. A 
single fact which comes to our knowledge as these pages 
arc preparing for the press is representative of many simi- 
lar instances. A young lady of great intelligence, but 
destitute of all faith in religion as a personal reality, was 

a member of the State Normal School at , qualify- 

inof herself for usefulness as a teacher. While so cm- 
ployed, she studied Wayland's IMoral Science as a part of 
the prescribed course. The teachings of this book re- 
moved her spirit of scepticism, and led her to place her 
reliance upon the work of the Redeemer. She is now 
one of the heroic band of laborers in the foreign mission- 
arv field. 

The Moral Science has reached a circulation of ninety- 
five thousand copies, and an abridgment (prepared for 
the use of the 3'ounger class of pu^Dils) a circulation of forty- 
two thousand. The work has also been republished in 
England and in Scotland. 


In this connection the following letters from honored 
missionaries of the American Board will be read with 
interest : — 

" Honolulu, S^sjndwicii Islands, 


, 1S41. 5 

December 2 

" Dr. Wayland : The accompanying volume contains 
so much of the matter and form of your small work on 
moral science that it may be properly called a translation 
of it. A few new topics have been introduced, and the 
discussion in some cases modified by a variety of illustra- 
tions adapted to the people of these islands ; but in the 
form and basis it is the same as your compcnd. I have 
thought that it would be gratifying to you to know this, 
and to receive a copy of the translation in the Hawaiian 
language. That it will be of great use in our schools, 

VOL. I. 25 


and especially in our seminaries, there can be no doubt. 
I am now going through it with a class of fifty adults, in- 
cluding the governor of the island of Oahu and his prin- 
cipal magistrates. The subject of conscience is entirely 
new to them, and deeply interesting. They have no word 
for it in their language, but they readily perceive that 
there is such a faculty, and they are delighted with the 

" On all moral subjects their minds ai"e yet very much 
in the dark, and such a work as this has been long and 
loudly called for. It is now adopted by the resident com- 
mittee of the Tract Society here, and printed at their ex- 

Very truly yours, 

Richard Armstrong." 

"Constantinople, September 14, 1847. 

" Rev. F. Wayland, D. D., President of Brown Uni- 

" My dear Sir : I have forwarded to the Missionary 
House (care of Dr. Anderson) two copies of your Ele- 
ments of Moral Science, translated into Armenian, which 
I beg you to accept as a proof that the book is appreciated 
here, and that you have become a co-laborer in the great 
work of regenerating the East. 

" The volume is admirably adapted to be useful among 
the awakened and more intelligent class of Armenians, 
and is read by many of them with a freshness of interest 
resulting in part from their previous erroneous ideas of 
moral science. 

" I have sent a copy of your Elements of Political Econo- 
my to the secretary of the grand vizier, a gentleman well 
versed in English, and I hope his master will order its 
translation into Turkish or Armenian. Should he do so, 
I shall send you a copy as soon as it is issued from the 
pi'ess. I have very carefully revised the translation I now 
send, and should the Political Economy be published here, 
I shall endeavor to see that it comes out in such a form as 
you would approve, although the prejudices and igno- 
rance of the East may call for some changes or omissions. 
With sentiments of high regard, 
I am, my dear Sir, 

Yours truly, 

C. Hamlin." 


A similar version of the Moral Science was also made 
in the modern Greek language, by the missionaries of 
the Baptist Missionaiy Union, and we learn that a trans- 
lation has appeared in the Ncstorian language. 

For an adequate explanation of the success of the text- 
books of Dr. Wayland, we must look not only to the 
motives by which he was governed, but to the spirit 
which animated his educational efforts. He kept con- 
stantly in view the importance of imparting to his pupils 
that kind of mental and moral culture which should pre- 
pare them to become Christian citizens. He relied on the 
Scriptures as revealing, with divine infallibility, the highest 

" He was a constant student of the Bible, and believed 
in its sufficiency for all' human guidance. How often 
have we heard him say, as he would hold up his well- 
worn Greek Testament, ' All that a man need to know is 
to be found within the covers of this book ' ! and he never 
expected anything in which he was engaged to succeed, 
save as it was in accordance with the principles there un- 
folded." * 

Dr. Wayland published his Elements of Political 
Economy in 1837' -^^ ^^^^ author informs his readers 
in the preface to this work, when " his attention was first 
directed to the science of political economy, he was struck 
with the simplicity of its principles, the extent of its gen- 
eralization, and the readiness with which its facts seemed 
capable of being brought into natural and methodical ar- 

He found, however, that " the works on this subject, in 
general use, while they presented its doctrines truly, yet 
did not present them in such order as would be most likely 
to render them sei'V'iceable either to the general reader or 
to the practical merchant." He aimed accordingly " to 
write a book which anybody who chose might understand." 
He therefore " labored to express the general principles in 

* Professor Gammell's obituary notice. 


the plainest manner possible, and to illustrate them by 
cases with which every person is familiar." It was not 
his purpose to prepare a learned and philosophical treatise 
for the use of a few, but to bring the cai'dinal doctrines of 
the science within the easy comprehension of the many. 
He believed that the great truths of political economy 
were simply the maxims of common life and every-day 
experience in private life applied to the regulation of the 
affairs of commimities. 

He sincerely regretted that the course of discussion 
unavoidably led over ground which had frequently been 
the arena of political controversy, but asserts that in all 
such cases he had endeavored to state what seemed to him 
to be the truth, without fear, favor, or afiection. He was 
conscious of no bias towards any party whatever. While 
cherishing for those of his fellow-citizens who were en- 
gaged in political warfare every feeling of personal respect, 
he entertained for party itself, whether political or eccle- 
siastical, the opinion which befitted him, " as an American, 
a Christian, and a gentleman." 

He once said, " The great study, at present, of every 
thoughtful man is the social improvement of the human 
race." This was, in his view, far more important than 
the temporary success of any political party or any political 

He entertained a high estimate of the educational as 
well as the material benefits likely to flow from a generous 
study of political economy. In writing to Rev. Dr. An- 
derson he expressed the opinion that scarcely anything 
would be more calculated to arouse and stimulate the 
minds of persons emerging from barbarism than the study 
of the elementary principles of this science. 

That this text-book was less popular than the Elements 
of Moral Science, is undoubtedly to be attributed, in a 
large measure to the cause to which we have just referred 
— the inevitable discussion of subjects already involved in 


partisan warfare. Prominent among these was the question 
of free trade and a protective tariff. 

At the same time such were the fi;^irness and candor 
which were brought to the consideration of every topic, 
so plain and perspicuous was the style, so simple and 
losfical was the treatment, so familiar and attractive were 
the illustrations, and so elevated was the moral tone, that 
it speedily secured, and has ever since maintained, a pop- 
ularity in our country which no text-book on this impor- 
tant subject by any American author has ever attained. 
The circulation of the larger treatise has reached the 
number of fifty thousand copies, and of the abridgment 
twelve thousand.* 

In the spring of 1S38, Dr. Wayland published a small 
volume, entitled "The Limitations of Human Responsi- 
bility." He thought that he perceived a strong tendency, 
more particularly among persons engaged in philanthropic 
and religious enterprises, to assume and to urge upon 
others, exaggerated views of the extent of man's responsi- 
bility for the ills that afflict his fellows. The result of 
this excessive estimate was, sometimes to produce a mor- 
bid sense of guilt for responsibilities not discharged, and 
sometimes to lead the persons who were oppressed by it, 
to feel themselves justified in resorting (if not indeed 
morally obliged to resort) to extreme and questionable 
measures, for the promotion of the ends which they 
sought to compass. 

* " When we remember what multitudes of youths he instructed 
during the nearly thirty years of his presidency, and how his text- 
books have been scattered broadcast over the continent, and when 
we reflect how those principles of which he was so illustrious an 
expounder have been silently assimilated into the mental and 
moral structure of the nation, who can compute the number or 
the energy of those elemental forces of American society into 
which Dr. Wayland's thoughts and tuitions have been metamor- 
phosed?" — Rev. Geo. D. Boardman, D. D., in his remarks be- 
fore the Pennsylvania Historical Society. 


In the volume referred to, the design of which is suffi- 
ciently indicated by its title, he held the view that there 
are limits to man's responsibility ; that he is responsible 
for results only up to the extent of his power over them ; 
that no man is responsible for evils which he cannot 
prevent without transcending the means with which 
Providence has endowed him ; and without violating the 
relations which he holds to his fellows, and the duties which 
grow out of these relations. 

After an exhibition of these principles, which few can- 
did readers could fail to regard as just and timely, the 
author considered, in the closing chapter, their bearing 
upon American slavery. The question was not, as he 
expressly stated, v/hether slavery was or was not right. 
It was, what were our responsibilities and duties in regard 
to slavery. 

It is possible that, in his eflbrt to be perfectly just, he 
unconsciously conceded too much. 

Rev. Dr. Cutting writes, — 

" I once took the liberty to say to him that I thought 
the work open to criticism at this point ; that, written to 
protest against a disposition to crowd men beyond the 
limit of their duties, he had failed to bring them fully 
up to that limit. After a moment's thoughtful considera- 
tion, he assented to the criticism as perhaps just." 

Later events made it obvious either that he mistook the 
temper of the southern leaders, or else that their spirit and 
aims had so far changed as to place them in a totally 
altered aspect to the northern people and to the Consti- 

Dr. Wayland never varied in his view of the essential 
nature of slavery as an indefensible violation of personal 
liberty. But there was a change in his view of its prac- 
tical workings, and of the relation which the nortlicrn 
people sustained towards it. For a long time the exist- 
ence of slavery was deprecated by southern Christians 


with apparent sincerity. They said, " We find ourselves 
encumbered with it, we see its evil, we desire as rapidly 
as possible to rid ourselves of it, and we beg our north- 
ern brethren not to embarrass us in this effort by untimely 
interference." Eloquent voices at the south urged eman- 
cipation, and there seemed good reason to hope that, acting 
upon the dictates of justice and of a wise public policy, the 
southern states would follow the example of those north- 
ern states that had eradicated the curse from within their 
borders. A wise, humane man, trusting in the professions 
of his southern brethren, might very reasonably think it 
proper to leave the evil undisturbed, to find the natural 
death towards which it seemed hasteninsf. 

When called on, in his Moral Science, to test slavery 
by the absolute standard of rectitude, he pronounced it at 
variance with the revealed will of God, disastrous in its 
effects upon the morals both of master and slave, and 
condemned by the principles of a sound political economy. 
And as time advanced, and as the practical character of 
slavery became more manifest, as the demand was made 
on its behalf, first for an equality of power in the govern- 
ment, then for predominance, and then for unquestioned 
and universal supremacy, still more when the slavehold- 
ing states, by their own act, freed the United States from 
all constitutional obligation in the matter, — lie felt that 
his practical duty was largely changed. 

" A man," says Macaulay, " who had held exactly the 
same opinion about the [French] revolution in 1789, in 
1794, in 1S04, ii^ 1S14, and in 1S34 would have been either 
a divinely inspired prophet or an obstinate fool. Mackin- 
tosh was neither. He was simply a wise and good man, 
and the change which passed over his mind was a change 
which passed over the mind of almost every wise and good 
man in Europe." We may apply the same just principle 
to the views which a wise and good man might take of 
his duties towards slavery, as its aspects varied with the 
lapse of years. 


But it is not needful to go back so far as the days of 
Mackintosh for ilkistrations of the principle. The Abra- 
ham Lincohi of 1861 was the Abraham Lincohi of 1863 ; 
nor did the Emancipation Proclamation condemn the first 
Inaugural Address. 

To his sister : — 

"January 31, 1859. 

"... However, on all these questions you seem to me 
to devolve upon yourself too great a responsibility. Have 
you read a work on that subject by your much abused but 
most meek and patient brother? If you have not, you 
had better do so at once, as it may enlighten you on these 

" We have a duty to perform where we are responsible ; 
but that being done, our responsibility terminates. That 
being ended, nothing is to be gained by anxiety or self- 
I'eproach, I think you should strive against these things. 
They wear out your nerves for no purpose ; or rather they 
unfit you for other occupations. I know it is difficult to 
control ourselves in such cases, but it is a duty." 

On the 1st of August, 1838, Dr. Wayland was married 
to Mrs. H. S. Sage, of Boston. The fact that she yet sur- 
vives, and a regard for her known wishes, will prevent the 
biographers from speaking in such terms as would be 
most gratifying to their feelings, as well as true to their 
childish memories of the joy which her graceful and lov- 
ing presence brought to that little household. But they 
cannot, in justice to the husband whose life she made so 
happy, refrain from saying that he was ever grateful to 
the " Giver of every good and perfect gift" for the light 
which once more illumined his long desolate home, and 
for the congenial companionship which gladdened the re- 
maining period of his earthly experience. 

The year 1839 ^^ memorable in the annals of Brown 
University. The friends of the college had for a con- 
siderable time been of the opinion that the interests of 
learning demanded additional facilities in important de- 
partments of education. Unsuccessful efTorts had been 

THE president's HOUSE. 393 

made to procure the requisite funds, and the improvements 
so much desired seemed beyond the reach of the institu- 
tion. At this critical moment the following letter was 
received by the treasurer : — 

" In common with a number of the friends of Brown 
University, I desire the erection of a suitable mansion- 
house for the president, and likewise of another college 
edifice for the accommodation of the departments of 
natural philosophy, chemistiy, mineralogy, and natural 
history. As it is highly important that these buildings, 
so necessary to the welfare of the institution, should be 
erected without delay, I hereby tender to the acceptance 
of the corporation two lots of land as a site for the 
president's house, and the lot of land called the Hopkins 
estate, on George Street, as a site for the college edifice ; 
and I hereby pledge myself for the sum of ten thousand 
dollars, viz., seven thousand dollars for the president's 
house, and three thousand dollars towards the erection of 
the college edifice, the suitable improvements of the adja- 
cent grounds, and the inci'ease of the permanent means 
of instruction in the departments of chemistry, mineral- 
ogy, &c., provided an equal amount be subscribed by the 
friends of the university before the first of May next. 

" I am, with affectionate regards and great personal 
respect for all the friends and patrons of the university, 

Nicholas Brown." 

The response to this generous offer was jDrompt and 
satisfactory. Within the indicated time a sum amounting 
to more than twenty thousand dollars was subscribed, 
and the success of this most important movement was se- 
cured. A suitable building devoted to the pursuit of the 
natural sciences was speedily erected. In the summer of 
1840 Dr. Way land removed to what has since been known 
as the " President's House." 

394 ^^^^ ^^ FRANCIS WAYLAND. 








DR. WAYLAND was now in the full maturity of his 
powers. His acknowledged eminence as an educa- 
tor, the popularity of his text-books, his successful labors 
as " a Christian philosopher, displaying more love for the 
truth than for mere symbols and creeds, more love for the 
world than for his country, and more devotion to the 
church than to any sect," and his reputation as a wise 
counsellor in all matters affecting the temporal or spiritual 
interests of his fellow-men, had placed him in the front 
rank of American citizens. In the city of Providence, and 
in the State of Rhode Island, his name, associated with every 
public enterprise, whether designed to extend the benefits 
of education, or to relieve the sufferings of the poor, or to 
increase the facilities for religious instruction, had become 
familiar as a household word. Meanwhile, although there 
had been no diminution in the number or importance of 
his daily duties, yet he had made himself so completely 
master of the studies which he was called upon to teach, 
and, with the efficient aid of a Faculty of instruction in 
full sympathy with his views, and sharing his professional 
enthusiasm, had brought the college into a condition of 


such correct discipline, that he had probably more leisure 
at his command than at any previous or subsequent pe- 

Enjoying these welcome results of many well-spent 
years, once more happy in his home life, and provided by 
the liberality of the friends of the university with a resi- 
dence worthy of the office which he held, he could in- 
dulge, in a manner most congenial to his tastes, his love 
of social intercourse. Those who knew Dr. Wayland 
only in his official relations, or as a casual acquaintance, 
saw but one phase of his character. It was reserved for 
those who were admitted to his closer companionship to 
learn, that beneath that grave and thoughtful exterior there 
lay concealed a fund of humor, an inexhaustible store of 
interesting and entertaining anecdote, and an extent and 
variety of useful information, which made his conversation 
as delightful as it was instructive. He had been a careful 
student of human nature, and his estimate and analysis of 
character were original and striking. He abounded in 
quaint expressions, usually embodying some general prin- 
ciple in such apt, idiomatic language as not to be easily 
forgotten. For the singular shrewdness of obsei-vation, 
and sharp insight into the motives of human conduct, em- 
balmed in so many popular maxims peculiar to our Yan- 
kee dialect, he had an especial fondness, and often used 
these homely proverbs of the people with great effect. 
We should be glad to give some examples of these fea- 
tures of his conversation ; but deprived of the aroma of the 
occasion which called them forth, and wanting the ex- 
pression of countenance which characterized his mirthful 
moods, they would lose their chief attraction, and convey 
but too feebly the lively interest which they imparted to 
his unstudied utterances. 

It resulted from the simplicity of his character that he 
never talked for effect. He shrank with instinctive mod- 
esty from anything like a display of learning. He was 


as willing to receive as to communicate information. His 
natural kindness of heart and his love of knowledge made 
it impossible for him to fall into the habit — common with 
good talkers — of social despotism. He delighted to gain 
important and interesting facts from those whose occupa- 
tions were far removed from the natural direction of his 
own studies, and he had singular skill in selecting subjects 
with which they were familiar. " He held dialogues with 
common men, farmers and mechanics, by the way, wher- 
ever he met them, with as much ease and good under- 
standing as if he had been of every man's guild and 
society all his life." * 

Writing to his son, then a boy, he says, — 

" Neglect no opportunities of gaining useful informa- 
tion while visiting . Mr. D. is a great teacher in the 

art of fishing, the management of a boat, &c. These are 
worth learning thoroughly, and I advise you to acquire all 
the knowledge you can respecting them. The art of be- 
coming familiar Vv'ith a practical matter is of inestimable 

A distinguished officer in the United States navy, after 
spending some hours with Dr. Wayland, remarked to a 
friend, — 

" I called on the doctor, expecting to be greatly im- 
proved by an interview with a man of his reputed learn- 
ing ; but he made me do all the talking. He squeezed me 
like a sponge." 

The writer remembers that Dr. Wayland once directed 
his attention to the following extract from the " Fortunes 
of Nigel," as containing much practical wisdom : — 

" Experience and knowledge of the world soon teach 
every sensible and acute person the important lesson, that 
information and increase of knowledge are to be derived 
from the conversation of every individual with whom he 
is thrown into a natural train of communication. 

" For ourselves, we can assure the reader, — and per- 

* Rev. Dr. Bartol's Discourse. 


haps, if we have ever been able to afford him amusement, 
it is owing in a great degree to this cause, — that we never 
found ourselves in company with the stupidest of all com- 
panions in a post-chaise, or with the most arrant cumber- 
corner that ever occupied a place in a mail-coach, without 
finding that, in the course of our conversation with him, 
we had some ideas suggested to us, either grave or gay, 
or some information communicated in the course of the 
journey, which we should have regretted not to have 
learned, and which we should be sorry to have immedi- 
ately forgotten." 

One of the president's pupils says, — * 

" On one occasion, after having spent several weeks in 
the most intimate daily intercourse with an accomplished 
naval officer, I called to see Dr. Wayland. Thinking to 
surprise him with my knowledge of what belonged to na- 
val science, I contrived to introduce this subject, and dis- 
coursed upon it at some length, and, as I flattered myself, 
with some learning I soon discovered, however, that he 
knew vastly more about it than I did ; and I retired in con- 
fusion, carrying with me two books which he had recom- 
mended me to read — Collingwood's Despatches, and Let- 
ters to his Daughter." 

We are indebted to the same gentleman for the follow- 
ing reminiscence : — 

" In the early part of the recent rebellion, one of my 
friends, who had been for a few years captain of a first- 
class merchant vessel, was anxious to secure some ap- 
pointment from the naval department, in which his sea- 
manship might be of seiA'ice to his country. I introduced 
him to Dr. Wayland, thinking that a recommendation 
from such a source would materially assist my friend in 
his patriotic purpose, and then, after some words of ex- 
planation, retired, leaving them in earnest conversation. 
When I next saw this aspirant for naval promotion, he 
said, ' What sort of a man is Dr. Wayland? I supposed 
he was only a clergyman ; but I never passed so severe 
and searching an examination about everything that be- 

* E. H. Hazard, Esq., of Providence, R. I. 


longs to my profession as a sailor. He seems to know 
everything about a ship.' " 

It was significant of the practical tendency of his mind 
that he was careful to surround himself with the best 
maps and atlases which could be procured. His accu- 
rate knowledge of the geography, not only of the United 
States, but of foreign countries, was often a matter of siu'- 
prise to those who were most familiar with his habits of 
study. When he first heard of the commencement of the 
Crimean war, he was able to predict, with singular correct- 
ness, what would be the important strategical points to 
be occupied by the allied armies. He was very fond of 
studying, even to the minutest details, the military opera- 
tions of modern history. Profoundly impressed with the 
genius of Napoleon, he had followed him through all 
his campaigns with the deepest interest, and, aided by 
such maps and diagrams as served to assist him in these 
investigations, had acquired a knowledge of the career of 
the great emperor possessed by few men not profession- 
ally interested in the art of war. He was hardl}' less 
familiar with the campaigns of Wellington, Sir William 
Napier, Frederick the Great, and the Duke of Marl- 

He read English history with never-failing delight. 
When a Sophomore in Union College, he devoted all the 
leisure hours of the long vacation to a most careful and 
ci-itical reading of Hume's History, taking copious notes 
of whatever he thought worthy of future reference. In 
after life he frequently referred to the benefit which he 
had derived from the studies of those weeks, both in lay- 
ing a foundation for future historical researches, and in 
cultivating and confirming the habit of serious reflection. 
Nor did he confine himself to those sources of informa- 
tion which commonly supply all the knowledge needed 
by the casual student of history. In connection with 
those eventful epochs in the annals of our mother coun- 


try, when great constitutional principles were settled, de- 
ciding not only the destinies of the British empire, but 
most materially influencing the condition of the whole 
human race, he read the biographies of the master spirits 
through whose agency these all-important results were 
accomplished. He made himself familiar with the his- 
tory of the leading families in England. Perhaps no 
secular book in his library was more frequently consulted 
than " Burke's Peerage." One who knew him well writes, 
" When any question relating to ancient lineage was the 
subject of conversation, he was able at once to supply any 
broken, or rather forgotten link in the pedigree, and as- 
sign to each the proper place in English history." At 
the same time, we presume it is hardly necessary to ob- 
serve that there was nothing aristocratic in the temper of 
his mind or in the direction of his tastes. Indeed, his 
prime favorite was Cromwell. He had made the charac- 
ter and career, military, administrative, and diplomatic, 
of the Protector, an especial study. As one of his friends 
has said, " Long before Carlyle's famous work on Crom- 
well came out. Dr. Wayland knew all about it." 

His kindness of heart was nowhere more conspicuous 
than in his social intercourse. He could be witty, and 
was often ironical. But his w^it never gave offence, and 
his irony was always good-natured. He could not bear 
to wound the feelings of others. It was a matter of con- 
science as well as of inclination with him to be charitable 
in his judgments. Though severe in his condemnation 
of social evils and public wrongs, he was slow to censure 
the motives of individuals. His anecdotes or observa- 
tions about the absent were never in an unfriendly spirit. 
To hear another spoken of harshly gave hiin pain. When 
he detected any tendency to fault-finding, he would say, 
with a pleasant smile, " Let us talk of things rather than 
of persons," and turn the conversation into another chan- 
nel. He once wrote to a young friend, — 



" Cultivate kindness of feeling. When we become 
faultless ourselves, we may learn, if we please, to speak 
harshly of the infirmities of others." 

To the same : — 

" He who is displeased with everybody and everything, 
gives the best evidence that his own temper is defective, 
and that he is a bad associate." 

To one who proposed to criticise with some severity a 

recently published book of travels, — 

" I do not think of Mr. 's book as you do. It is 

well enough, and does not call for any castigation. It is 
gossiping and very good-natured. If you cannot speak 
kindly of it, you had better let it alone." 

He had an especial dislike for controversy conducted in 
a spirit of recrimination and unfriendly criticism. He 
once said, " My instinct teaches me always to avoid a 
quarrel." Where he differed in opinion from another, he 
was content to state briefly and clearly the grounds of 
his own belief, and his objections to the principles of his 
opponent. While he felt that he owed so much as this 
to the cause of truth, he had no desire to press a discus- 
sion beyond the bounds of courtesy and good feeling. 
His letters to Dr. Fuller furnish an excellent illustration 
of this feature of his character. 

Cherishing an ardent love for his country', proud of her 
free institutions, and intensely republican in all his feel- 
ings, he was profoundly grieved by the tone of acrimony 
and vindictive bitterness so common in our political dis- 
cussions, and ever sought — both by personal appeal and 
in his correspondence — to assuage the virulence of parti- 
san warfare. 

Writing to a friend connected with the press, he says, — 

" I hope you will adhere to your resolution to leave the 
war of mere party politics, and devote more time and 
space to European affairs and general questions of states- 
manship. These will transcend in interest and importance 


all petty, local issues. Lead in this, and you will be the 
leader in all." 

During the fierce excitement in New York on the ques- 
tion of slavery, culminating in the " abolition riots " of 
1S34, he wrote to one of his intimate friends — a promi- 
nent editor in that city, who had been especially earnest in 
advocating the aims and objects of the Colonization So- 
ciet}^, and had vehemently denounced the abolitionists, — 

" Your duty at the present time must be very, trying. 
Let me urge upon you a word of advice. 

" I. Decide in your own mind what your precise situa- 
tion and responsibility are. You are not responsible for 
what you cannot help. You cannot prevent the proceed- 
ings of the general government. Your most important 
office is to state the facts as they exist. You are not under 
obligation to excite the people. We have excitement 
enough, and the very appearance of it renders men sus- 
picious of the truth of facts. This is the case at present. 
The press has been so generally devoted to party, that 
now the truth is not believed, and has lost its power. If 
you talk of Caligula and Nero, you will not be believed. 
The facts are stronger without the comparison. 

" 2. Strive to keep your feelings from being embittered. 
Unless you do this, you will be miserable. Do your duty, 
and leave the result with God. You can be happy in no 
other way. 

" 3. I pray you, do not call ' the people ' by hard names. 
Do not say they are ' fools,' and ' knaves,' and ' idiots.' 
If you speak of men in this way, who will believe you ? 
We are all fellow-citizens. Let us treat each other as 
such. Who are you and I but the people? We should 
not like to be called idiots by those a little higher than 

" 4. Abandon partisan and personal feeling. If one 
who has hitherto differed from you now agrees with you, 
do not chide him for his change of opinion and want of 
consistency, for the sake of showing that you have always 
been right. Rather rejoice that he is at last convinced. 
Welcome him as a fellow-laborer, and commend his can- 
dor. We should not labor for party, but for truth. 

VOL. I. 26 


"5. Seek to be a peace-maker. The country is very 
much agitated. The passions of men are aroused, and 
they have not the fear of God before their eyes. The day 
of our retribution seems at hand. There will be sreat 
pecuniar}^ pressure, much distress, and perhaps division. 
Let us strive to allay party violence and to calm the pas- 
sions of men." 

A little later he writes again to the same, — 

" I think you mistake your position. Because you are 
the conductor of a public journal, you greatly err if you 
suppose the community care a rush about your private 
quarrels. Indeed, why need you get into a quarrel? You 
are not called upon to be a gladiator, or a Don Qiiixote, 
to run about the city attacking every one who speaks 
against the Colonization Society. Yours is a public jour- 
nal, for the statement of facts, and for general discussion ; 
and its design is perverted when you make it the medium 
for the display of your private feelings and your personal 

" Besides, you are a disciple of Christ. By this shall 
all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one 
another. But you may say, If I am attacked I must de- 
fend myself. I have not so learned Christ. When he 
was reviled, he reviled not again. Paul said, ' I will 
spend and be spent for you, though the more abundantl}"- 
I love you, the less I be loved.' We must learn meekness, 
and patience, and forbearance in the school of Christ. 

" If you continue in this course, I fear that you will lose 
all comfort in prayer, and all evidence of religion — that 
you will sink into gloom, and perhaps go back into the 
world. I know that the Spirit of God will not shed 
abroad his love in the bosom of one who is so ready for 
contention. He is a peaceful Spirit, and resides only 
with those who bear even injuries with meekness and in 

" You will perhaps reply. My situation is peculiar, and 
these rules do not apply to it. Is it so? If it be a situa- 
tion to which the rules of Christ do not apply, then a 
Christian cannot hold it. You must either give up Christ 
or the situation. But in all this there is a sad mistake. 
There is too strong a desire for the glorification of self. 
Leave self out of the question, and the difficulty will be 


greatly diminished. ... In a word, unless you love the 
cause of Christ better than the Colonization Society, you 
will have only such comfort as the Colonization Society 
can give you, 

" I beg you to forgive my plainness of speech. I love 
you, and desire to see you a happy, peaceful Christian. 
For this reason I have written. May God grant you his 
grace and wisdom." 

To the same, in reference to the preceding letter : — 

"... I wrote from my own experience, and this may 
not correspond with that of others ; but I have found 
that if I allow myself to be much interested in worldly 
matters, my enjoyment of religion is gone, and my con- 
sciousness of the presence of God departs. This is 
peculiarly the case when my feelings are awakened to 
anything like controversy. It was my earnest desire for 
your growth in grace that led me to write as I did. I am 
feebly and most imperfectly attempting to live more re- 
ligiously than heretofore, and I felt deeply anything which 
I thought might be injurious to your soul. Pardon any 
improper warmth or harshness of expression, and if any 
part of my advice was good, try and make use pf it." 

In the summer of 1S37, ^''- Wayland was appointed a 
member of the Board of Visitors for the annual exami- 
nation at West Point. 

From this place he writes as follows to Colonel Stone : — 

"Junes, 1837. 

"... The members of the Board of Visitors are 
mostly strangers to me, and I believe thei'e are not many 
with whom you are acquainted. Yet the scenery is as beau- 
tiful as ever, and Cozzen's hotel is, as usual, attractive to 
bons vivants. I have a room with one of the professors 
while I am engaged in the study of the art of war. I 
have not yet received a military appointment ; but, as I 
learn that I am getting into favor with the Jackson Van 
Burcn patriots, there is no knowing wliat may happen. 
In case I should receive anything valuable, I shall, of 
course, remember you. Of the news of the day I know 
nothing. Should anything important from Europe tran- 
spire, I wish you would be good enough to send me a 


paper. The ordinary party intelligence I do not care 
about. I forvvai'ded to you some sermons recently, but 
presume that you have not yet had time to read them. 
They are intended to moderate the violence of party feel- 
ing. I am sure that this v/ill please you. 

" However, the fashion of this world passeth away ; all 
these vehement desires, and loves, and hatreds will very 
soon be silent in death. Let us look forward to something 
better and more valuable than this world can give, and le< 
us seek to quiet the peevish restlessness of the present ex- 
istence by di^inking at the fountain of eternal life." 

That Dr. Wayland was not indifferent to the political 
questions which, from time to time, agitated the country, 
and that his political predictions, carefully considered and 
temperately expressed, were confirmed by future events, 
will appear from the following letter to a friend, written 
immediately after the presidential election of 1852 : — 

" I had intended to write to you before the election, and 
give you my opinion, but could not command the time. I 
am not surprised at the election of Mr. Pierce, but 1 am 
surprised at the greatness of his majority. I gave the 
Whig leaders more credit for forethought and common 
sense than they deserved. They surrendered principle, 
and tried availability. They have lost election, principle, 
honor, and all. I consider that there is now no Whig 
party. They have no principles to which they adhere, 
and profess none of any power in opposition to the Dem- 
ocrats. They cannot make another stand. The next 
move will be a division of the Democrats ; and this will 
again give an opportunity for choice. I think you may 
safely look upon the Whig party as defunct. You will 
have, therefore, an opportunity to leave all parties, or to 
select from those that will hereafter be formed which one 
you will join. For my own part, I prefer to be of no 
party. If I were in your place, I should deliberate long 
loefore making a choice. When Jefferson was elected, 
Hamilton advised the Federalists to disband, and unite 
with the best part of the Democrats. They did not follow 
his advice, but died by inches, until the very name be- 
came a word of reproach." 


To the same, November, 1S54 • — 

" You will learn, before long, that politicians are gen- 
erally among the stupidest and most mole-sighted of men. 
It must be so, for they are preeminently selfish. Because, 
like the mole, they burrow under ground, they suppose 
that, of course, they go right ; which is no more true of 
under-ground than of over-ground movements. You 
may remember my regret that certain prominent politi- 
cians, instead of seizing upon the great principles which 
were agitating the community, were determined to keep 
up the Whig party, or, in other words, to cling to an 
organization of which the only advantage was, that it 
benefited a few leaders, and kept the rest at work for 
them. The result has been the same in both parties. 
The chains are broken, and in New York the administra- 
tion candidate is nowhere. You are very fortunate in 
being out of the whole aflair. You will now, I trust, 
imitate the example of the man, somewhere in the north- 
ern part of New York, who succeeded very well by 
minding his own business." 

Dr. Wayland's political sympathies were always with 
that party which, for the time being, sought to elevate 
humanity, and to promote the cause of equal rights. 

He was, however, too wise to bind himself to follow 
the dictates of any party organization. To quote his own 
words, — 

" I do not wish to be connected with politics. Indeed, 
I dare not commit myself with politicians. No one 
knows what they will be next year by what they are this 

He could never give to party " what was meant for 

" He was of the people ; every drop of his blood was in 
fellowship with the mass of mankind. He was demo- 
cratic to the core — in his manners, habits, and thoughts. 
He never talked down to the community, or to any 
audience. He knew nothing of better blood, but only of 
the one blood. By his instincts he hated, as by his vows 
he opposed, all tyranny and caste. He was an advocate 


of freedom and free trade. It was this wide communion 
with humanity which moved him to open collegiate 
degrees, not only to the learned professions, but also to the 
useful arts." * 

Dr. Wayland's views about society were characterized 
by the utmost simplicity. Few things gave him greater 
pleasure than the informal intercourse of congenial com- 
panions ; but late hours, costly entertainments, or any 
form of social dissipation, had no attraction for him. To 
this day many of his sui^viving friends are fond of recall- 
ing the pleasant memories of evenings spent in his soci- 
ety. They delight to dwell upon the evident gratification 
with which he welcomed them to his home, the unaffected 
interest which he exhibited in everything that concerned 
their welfare, his playfulness of manner, the contagion of 
his hearty laugh, his shrewd but kindly comments on men 
and manners, and the spirit of Christian courtesy which 
pervaded and sanctified these memorable interviews. 

At this period of his life, somewhat relieved, as we have 
seen, from the engrossing occupations of former years, he 
seemed to recognize not only the advantage to himself of 
occasional relaxation, but our national need of regularly 
recurring holidays. 

He writes to his friend. Rev. Dr. Hoby, of Birmingham, 

England, — 

" December 25, 1837. 

" My dear Brother : When I last wrote to you, I thought 
it not improbable that at this time I should be joining in 
the rejoicings which, from time immemorial, have glad- 
dened the homes of England on this festive occasion. 
I have, by the by, a great love for these national, universal 
merry-makings. They tend to abate the ferocity of party 
strife. They blend together the different classes of society. 
They attach children to their parents and to each other. 
They bind together the various collateral branches of kin- 
dred. They allow every one to throw off' the load of care 
which more or less presses upon every bosom ; and tlie 

* Discourse of Rev. Dr. Bartol. 


man goes forth with a somewhat lighter heart to meet the 
exigencies of his pecuHar calHng, Such I suppose to be 
the effect of these days with you. We in this country pay 
too little attention to them. We toil, and fight, and talk 
politics, and make money, to the end of the chapter. I 
should very much like to spend Christmas holidays in Old 

His fondness for family meetings seemed to increase 
with his advancing years. As, one by one, the playmates 
of his boyhood passed into the " silent world," he clung 
"more closely to those of his relatives who survived. 

He writes to his sister, September, 1S37, — 

" I am very thankful that we were permitted to meet 
together so pleasantly this summer. Such little family- 
gatherings are good and lovely while they last ; they are 
delightful in retrospect ; and the results which they leave 
on the spirits are most cheering and refreshing. They 
brighten the chain of affection, and rivet its links the 
closer. We understand one another better, and sympa- 
thize with far greater freshness in each other's joys and 
sorrows. Surely whatever has this effect is among the 
best as well as pleasantest medicines to the soul." 

With his serious estimate of life, and testing all ques- 
tions involving the expenditure of money by the severe 
standard of conscientious duty, he habitually practised 
self-denial as to all social indulgences, which did not take 
the form of healthful relaxation, or furnish the means of 
mental quickening. In this spirit he writes to a friend, 
August 13, 1S40, — 

" Mr. Audubon is here, and I have screwed my ornitho- 
logical courage up to the sticking-point of one hundi^ed 
dollars. 1 had great misgivings as to the matter of duty. 
One hundred dollars is a considerable talent, and I doubted 
whether I had a right thus to appropriate it. However, 
I made out a view of the case that satisfied me. It seemed 
to me that so complete and beautiful an exhibition of this 
portion of the works of God ought to be procured, and on 
this ground I thought I was justified in purchasing the 
work. I am much pleased with Audubon's moral temper. 


He seems habitually to refer what he sees to the wisdom 
and goodness of God. I think he would hardly agree with 
the notion of our friend B., that creation is no proof of 
the being of a Creator. Talking to him of animals, I said, 
' The butfalo is certainly very stupid.' ' Stupid ! ' said he ; 
' man is the only stupid animal I ever saw.' It is delight- 
ful to see such enthusiasm in any profession. Would that 
we could imitate him in our own pursuits." 

We cannot remember another instance in which Dr. 
Wayland made a costly addition to his library not called 
for in the prosecution of his chosen studies. His was 
emphatically a working library. Perhaps a score of vol- 
umes would cover all it contained in the departments of 
fiction and light literature. In addition to books religious 
and devotional, comprising a large proportion of the 
whole, there was a considerable collection of standard 
biographies, works on English and American history, 
books of travel, scientific treatises, dictionaries, and works 
of reference. Nothing was for show, all for use. The 
librar}'' correctly indicated the man and the bias of his 
mind. It should be added that the books which bore the 
marks of most frequent perusal were his Greek Testament, 
Baxter's Saints' Rest, Wilson's Sacra Privata, and Leigh- 
ton's Commentaries. 

The interest which Dr. Wayland never ceased to mani- 
fest in the mental and moral development of his young ac- 
quaintances, his unwearied efforts to give a right direction 
to their expanding intellects, and his anxious concern for 
their spiritual welfare, are deserving of especial mention. 

To a lad at school, the son of one of his dearest friends, 

he writes, — 

" You ask me about self-government. It is a very proper 
question. I wish I had more time to write about it. I 
will, however, say a few words in rej^ly. You must have 
observed that when a man or boy is about to perform any 
action involving character, there are two sorts of impulses 
operating upon him, one urging one way and the other 
another way. Suppose a boy saw some apples in a neigh- 


bor's field. Appetite would say, ' They are good ; help 
yourself.' Conscience would say, ' No ; it is wrong.' 
Suppose you had an opportunity to get an advantage over 
a comrade bv a mean trick. Selfishness would sav, ' Do 
it ; look out for yourself.' Conscience and nobleness of 
soul would say, ' Be above doing a mean thing for any 
advantage.' Suppose you were tempted to play truant in 
violation of the rules of your teacher ; the love of pleasure 
would say, ' Go ; no one will know it.' Conscience would 
say, ' I would not do wrong, although nobody knew it.' 
Self-government consists in accustoming ourselves to obey 
these higher and nobler impulses of our soul, rather than 
these lower and meaner impulses of our body. This is 
the nature of the thing. How to do it, I will tell you 
when I write again. . . ." 

To the same : — 

" In my last letter I wrote to you about self-government, 
and what it was. It consists in subjecting our conduct to 
some rule, and accustoming ourselves to obey a higher, 
rather than a lower propensity. For instance, idleness is 
a low and mean propensity ; industry is resj^ectable and 
honorable. We exercise self-government when we act 
industriously, in opposition to the strongest impulses of 
sloth. To illustrate : If you were tempted to lie in bed 
when you ought to be up, it would be an act of self- 
government to start out of bed, although the cold was as 
biting as Jack Frost could make it. So in the case of 
learning a lesson, or of any other duty. So, if you were 
tantalized by another boy, passion would urge you to 
scold, or quarrel, or fight, or return evil for evil. It 
V. ould be an act of self-government to restrain your anger, 
and keep perfectly mild and good-natured. 

" But you naturally ask, ' How shall I acquire this de- 
sirable habit?' I do not know that I can tell you ; but I 
will do the best I can. In the first place, then, you must 
be thoroughly in earnest about it, and really desire to suc- 
ceed. You know it is of no use to give a man medicine 
unless he is willing to take it. If you are then seriously 
desirous of acquiring a habit of self-government, you must 
resolve, in general, that you will always act from con- 
science and reason ; and, in particular, resolve against 
any actual errors into which you may have fallen. It is 


important to guard against passion on the one hand, and 
against procrastination on the other. Wlien you are in 
danger of yielding to laziness, resist it on the instant. 
When your passions begin to be excited, either calm them 
immediately, or go away from temptation. In all cases 
you must strive to do right. 

" But, in the next place, if you have done wrong, 
always go and confess it. This is one of the best vv^ays to 
gain self-government. A boy will soon break off from 
wrong if he will form the habit of apologizing for every 
wrong action. No matter whom you have injured, young 
or old, I would always apologize when I had erred. 

"And lastly, we must seek divine assistance. In the 
morning, ask yourself, ' Wherein am I likely to fail? ' and 
pray God to keep you from failing. In the evening, recall 
your wrong doing; be penitent, and resolve to do so no 
more. Do you not think that if any boy would act thus, 
he would learn self-government? Well, then, try it, and 
see how it answers for yourself." 

To the same : — 

"... You wish me to tell you something about char- 
acter. Character is from ;)f«ouo-ffw — which means, I 
scratch, or make marks, as an engraver does. It is what 
is perfectly wrought into a man. A man's character is 
his principles, his habits, his nature. Reputation is, as 
you say, from reputo^ and means what our fellow-men 
think of us. The first is by far the most important. Sup- 
pose you were going to make marks upon a piece of wax ; 
would you do it when it was soft, or when it had become 
hard? How could you seal a letter with hard, cold wax? 
You will say, of course, we must do it when it is soft and 
yielding. What should we think of a man who would not 
put his seal on the wax when it was soft, but determined 
to wait until it was cold? You would call him a stupid 
person. Now, apply this opinion to ourselves. When 
should we be more careful to form character — when we 
are young, or when we are old? Tell me what you think 
of this when you write again." 

To the same : — 

" Let me urge upon you ever to set before yourself the 
highest standard of character, and aim to reach it. Be 


not satisfied with the notion that you are as good as this 
or that boy, but say to yourself, ' I will try to emulate the 
character of the greatest and the best of men.' This will 
give you something to strive for. It will, moreover, make 
you humble, and this very striving will tend to make you 
good and great. Had Washington desired to be nothing 
more than those around him, he would have lived and 
died a plain Virginia farmer. Begin, then, at once. Re- 
solve that you will do everything well. Spare no pains 
or effort, and by thus aiming at excellence you will de- 
velop and improve whatever is good in your character, 
while you will diminish whatever is bad. 

" Now, in order to accomplish this, you need to exercise 
self-government. This is only to be gained by practice. 
For instance, your appetite frequently enslaves you. Be- 
gin at the table. Select that article of food of which you 
are most fond, and abstain from it for a week. You will 
be surprised to observe how much power of self-control 
this will give you. You are indisposed to mathematics. 
Take half an hour, or whatever time is necessary, every day, 
and study mathematics, hard or easy, and select the hard in 
preference. Never leave a proposition, whether it requires 
a longer or shorter time, until you have mastered it. You 
will thus gain confidence in yourself. An army that is 
always beaten can be beaten without effort ; while one 
that has acquired the habit of victory is invincible. Thus 
is it with mind. If we acquire the habit of success by 
resolute effort, we can i-ely with confidence on our ability. 
You remember what Virgil says — '' Posstcnt^ quia posse 

To the same : — 

" It is of great consequence to our moral life to spend 
our Sabbaths well. I hope you have begun aright. I 
would have a fixed plan for the day ; a time for rising, for 
reading, meditation, self-examination, and prayer, as well 
as for public worship. I would never allow myself to 
read secular books, or to do any secular business what- 
ever. I would be, so far as possible, alone. No one can 
estimate the value of a well-spent Sabbath as a means of 
moral culture. It arrests the course of worldliness, brings 
us near to God and to ourselves, and strengthens us in 
all good resolutions. . . . 


" You ask me about Miller's doctrines. I have not 
read anything he has written. It can make but little dif- 
ference to you or me when the end of the world comes, if 
we are prepared for it. Death, which is the end of the 
world to us, may come, as we know, at any moment. 
To be in readiness for this event is all that need con- 
cern us. 

"... I do not know precisely the difference between 
biography and memoir. It may be correct to say that 
biography is simply a life of the person. A cat or a dog 
may have a biography. Memoir combines with the life, 
important transactions in which the subject took a part. 
You would feel that a memoir of a cat would be ludi- 
crous. This I suppose to be about the distinction." 

To a young relative on his birthday : — 

"... Another year upon earth ! How solemn the 
thought ! I suppose, throughout the tmiverse, there is 
not a world in which time is so inestimably valuable. 
Ours is a world in which God became incarnate to save 
us from the most awful destruction, and to raise us to a 
glory like his own ; in which he offers to every one of us 
this infinite mercy ; in which his Spirit is everywhere 
present, urging us to accept of his freely-oftered pardon, — 
and all this limited to the few and uncertain moments of 
this present life. We lie down to sleep. We may awake 
glorified spirits, or souls lost forever. We commence a 
sentence ; before it is ended we may have completed our 
probation. And' yet God waits. His compassion is 
boundless, even while we are rejecting his infinite mercy. 
He gives us days, weeks, months, and years in which to 
secure our eternal salvation. 

" You are commencing another year. Shall it be like 
the one just closed? What have all your labors amounted 
to in comparison with securing the salvation of your soul? 
Will you spend the year before you in pursuing objects 
which, considered in the light of eternal truth, are all 
vanity? Do not rely upon doing cei'tain things, in the 
hope that a change will come over you gradually. Has 
this plan succeeded up to the present time? If not, what 
reason is there to suppose that it ever will? Agree with 
thine adversary quickly. Now is the accepted time. The 
blessed Savior waits. O, let him not wait in vain. 


" Do not think this advice obtrusive. With my sincere 
interest in your temporal and eternal welfare, I could not 
suffer this opportunity to pass without seeking to impress 
upon your mind these important truths." 

To a young friend about to travel in Europe : — 

"... As I shall not probably see you before you go 
abroad, I shall try to think of a few of the things which 1 
wish to say before you leave. I shall begin and go on at 
random, stopping when recollection, or time, or paper 
is exhausted. 

" Take care, in the first place, of your soul. The fact 
is, whether you think of it or not, that the issue of this 
whole concern is in the hands of God. He will give you 
all the success you enjoy, and inflict every chastisement 
you sufl'er. He will introduce you to every acquaintance, 
prepare the way for every expedition, and be the Author 
of whatever improvement you make from every occur- 
rence. He will shield you, if you are shielded, from 
every temptation, and cause you to grow, if you do grow, 
in virtue where most men fail. He therefore should be 
your daily confidant; look to him not only when you are 
in trying emergencies, but before you enter upon them ; 
and as you never know when this will happen, look to 
him habitually. Strive ever to maintain a devout spirit ; 
take time for it, and be resolute about it; and if you find 
yourself growing thoughtless, take a day for this alone, 
putting aside every other business, and make it your sole 
concern to recall your thoughts and get your heart right. 

" Make up your mind on the moral questions which 
will probably come before you, and on the courses of 
conduct likely to be matters of moral trial. Hold firmly 
to your resolutions, whatever may opjDose. For instance, 
you believe in the Sabbath ; you will go where it is a day 
of pleasure. Keep it as you believe it ought to be kept, 
though you are alone and lose ever so much by keeping 
it. God will abundantly reward you, and you may be 
sure that nothing you may gain will be sufficient to com- 
pensate you for displeasing him. 

" In observing, beware of a rustic or puerile curiosity 
to see the shows or lions. You cannot see everything. 
Select, therefore, what is most worthy your attention, and, 
though it may cost most money and most labor, be will- 


ing to undergo labor and pains to do your work well. 
Therefore be careful to cultivate, as far as possible, physi- 
cal hardihood. This will give you better health, a higher 
zest in seeing, and will increase your total amount of 
conscious existence. 

" Claim no precedence, but take just the place that is 
given to you, and make no fuss about it. Louis XIV. 
wished to ascertain whether the Earl of Stair was, as he 
was reputed to be, the most polite gentleman in Europe. 
He therefore invited him to ride in his carriage, and when 
they came to it, the king asked him to get in hrst. The 
earl bowed most respectfully, and obeyed. The king said 
that any other man would have stood bowing, and scrap- 
ing, and refusing to enter for a quarter of an hour. 

" Every country has its peculiarities, and its disagree- 
able ones ; we Yankees have our share, as the world 
reports. I would observe particularly those which Eng- 
lish writers remark respecting us, and be careful to 
avoid them ; not at all because I am ashamed of my 
nation ; but the best manners are of no country ; they are 
the manners which belong to all well-bred men ; they are 
the manners collected from what is good in every country, 
with what is peculiar thrown away. 

" Have your objects as much as possible marked out 
before you, or else you will be looking for a needle in a 
haystack. Do not attempt everything; but find out what 
is most desirable, and do that well. Get facts, and be 
sure that they are facts, not guesses, blunders, and mistakes. 
Certain knowledge alone is worth having, for it is the only 
knowledge that in a year any one will care a fig about 

" Write down names, dates, and everything that you 
want to remember. Never trust to your memory ; always 
treacherous, it will, in travelling, be doubly so. ^ziod 
scriptutn maiiet. 

" September 18. 

" I had filled the preceding sheet before your letter 
arrived. I am glad that you are going in such spirits, 
and that you have so agreeable company. All, thus far, 
seems well. You feel like a young man, feeding your 
hopes on your imagination, and rejoicing in happiness 
which you will never realize, and expecting bliss from 


sources which will tire, rather than satisfy you. But still 
go on. Keep yourself as cool as you can, and tiy to be 
useful, or at least to prepare yourself for being so. I 
should like to be with you, and almost wish I was going; 
but it is now too late. 

To the same : — 

" Some time has elapsed since I received your letter ; 
and where to imagine you at present, I know not. I 
trust, however, that wherever you are, you gain knowl- 
edge, improve in adroitness of mind by intercourse with 
the world, see more of its vanity and littleness, and thus, 
by becoming better acquainted with it, become better pre- 
pared to leave it. 

" Before I proceed to things in general, I will answer 
your letter. You ask me if a copy of Hall's works, hand- 
somely bound, is what I would buy, were I there. I reply, 
no — not for myself. My circumstances do not allow of 
literary luxury. But it is not so with you. You have 
the opportunity and the means of laying the foundation 
of a good library. Whatever you can afford to expend, 
you had better expend in this manner. Get good and 
handsome books, so as to furnish a small room for your 
personal and private reading. By doing this you will 
give a tinge to the whole character of your life, and at 
least once a day you will be reminded that there is some- 
thing valuable in the world besides invoices, notes of 
hand, orders, and balance-sheets. Get all the British 
classics in suitable stj'le — Milton, Cowper, Johnson, 
Goldsmith, Shakspeare, Burke, Scott, &c. Buy books in 
your ovvii calling — on political economy, statistics, 
money, exchange, &c., and every thing you can find con- 
cerning the manufactures with which you are connected. 
Also get Hume, and whatever illustrates English or 
American history, 

"... I trust you are improving your time. Not that 
I doubt your seeing enough, which you will do, of course, 
from the very principles of your nature. But this is not 
all. See to remember, and judge, and generalize. This 
will render you a well-informed man, and give richness, 
scope, and precision to the operations of your mind. And 
do not forget to look at everything with the eyes of a 
Christian. I feel a very deep interest in all your pursuits, 


and hope to see you greatly benefited by this period of 

To a young friend about to travel in this country : — 

"... I want you to remember all you see at the south 
and west, and be able to give me an account of it. Ob- 
serve carefully the modes of thinking, and especially the 
points which are taken for granted. The things men take 
for granted without affirming are frequently of much 
greater importance than all that they affirm. 

" By all means, see what you can of the west. As, in 
all probability, I shall never be able to go there, I must 
look at it through the eyes of others. I want theelements 
of sound opinions. Note down your observations and the 
incidents which happen to you." 

To a young friend intrusted with important business 
interests : — 

"... It is at some risk that so much confidence is 
reposed in a young man. But this only furnishes the 
stronger reason why you should deserve this confidence. 
Remember one thing. Never make up your mind in- 
stanter. People will seek to commit you, and will then 
feel sure that they have carried their point. Always say, 
' I will think of it, and let you know ; ' and then make up 
your mind out of their sight, and out of hearing of their 
persuasive eloquence. If possible, resolve upon no im- 
portant matter without a night's sleep. If you will only 
take time, you will make as few mistakes as other men. 
The difference between young and old men is this : young 
men are ashamed to be thought obliged to take time for 
deliberation, and old men are willing to be so esteemed. 
Consent to be an old man, and you may have an old man's 

For the sake of preserving the continuity of the narra- 
tive, we have hitherto inserted only such letters of Dr. 
Wayland, written between the commencement of his pres- 
idency and the year 1840, as had especial reference to 
the particular topics under consideration. The following 
letters, although introduced without special regard to 
chronological order, are deemed worthy of publication, as 


affording additional insight into his character and opinions. 
Upon hearing that his father had suffered pecuniary re- 
verses, he writes to his sister, January i, 1828, — 

" The change which has taken place in father's circum- 
stances, rendering you the poorer, has many sources of 
consoling, as well as of afflictive reflection. It is afflictive 
that it should have been occasioned by human rather than 
directly by providential agency. It is afflictive that the loss 
is associated with impropriety of moral conduct, and that 
the money has tended to make mankind worse, rather than 
better, by its expenditure. 

" On the other hand, it is consoling to reflect that 
whatever was wrong, was not by our or by our parent's 

•' So much for the loss of the money. What effect has 
it produced upon you? It has made you poorer. But has 
it diminished your intellect? Has it taken away your 
education? Has it deprived you of any rational or moral 
means of happiness? Has it made you less estimable in 
the sight of God? Certainly not, unless it has caused you 
to murmur, and charge God foolishly. If it has made you 
humble, grateful, child-like, penitent, and faithful, God 
esteems you infinitely more. This loss, therefore, cannot 
be a matter of much importance. 

" But it may be necessary for you to earn your own 
support. Well, what is there humiliating in this? What 
is there more humiliating in earning our own support than 
in having some one else earn it for us? Into these two 
classes all mankind must be divided. Other things being 
equal, — that is, moral character remaining the same, — I 
consider the class of supportei's more respectable than the 
class of supported. It is to the former that I always ex- 
pect to belong. 

" It is impossible to decide at present whether this 
change is for the better or for the worse ; whether it is an 
affliction or a mercy. It surely will be the latter, if we 
improve it aright. All that you or any one can under- 
stand, is, that God has seen fit to turn you into a different 
path from that in which you were walking. Whether it 
will lead to a more or less pleasant prospect than that 
which you leave, he only knows. Our sole business is to 
follow him, and seek, first of all, to obey him. He knows 
VOL. I. 27 


what will conduce to our best interests. It all proves that 
there is nothing certain or valuable but religion. God has 
promised this to all who seek for it. He has promised 
nothing else. He has secured that, and that alone, to us. 
It is the only treasure which we can make our own." 

To Mrs. O'Brien, December 21, 1829: — 

" My dear Sister : Your last letter was duly received ; 
and few things of an epistolary nature could have given me 
more pleasure. In Mrs. R. I have always felt a deep in- 
terest, which was increased by the tidings of her recent 
affliction, although I knew not how it had affected her. 
To hear of the supports of divine grace which she has re- 
ceived, to know how good God has been to her in the hour 
of her calamity, to be assured that in this furnace of afflic- 
tion she was even joyful, is refreshing beyond the ordi- 
nary incidents of this changeful life. Mrs. R. is, in my 
opinion, no common Christian. She certainly wields the 
weapon of prayer with more skill in the Christian war- 
fare than almost any one whom I have ever known. It 
seems never to fail her. I was peculiarly struck with this 
in the last visit I made to her. I have not often seen any 
one breathing so elevated and invigorating, and yet so 
bland, an atmosphere of piety. It is delightful to see how 
God prepares his sei-vants for the sei-vice to which he calls 
them, and how he takes them by the hand before he leads 
them through the fier^' furnace." 

To his sister : — 

" November 13, 1832. 

"... What sad havoc has death made in the ranks of 
the leading minds of England during the past year. The 
names of Sir James Mackintosh, Robert Hall, and Sir 
Walter Scott will at once occur to you among the list of 
those whom the world has lost. How wide was the intel- 
lectual empire, how powerful the sway, how undisputed 
the literary eminence, of the great novelist ! In these re- 
spects we shall hardly find his equal in the history of mod- 
ern times ; and yet how mean are the fictions of this gifted 
mind, compared with the contemplations of the devout 
saint upon God, and the communion of the soul with the 
Savior of sinners. Let us remember that this is not our 
home, and live daily in preparation for heaven. 


*' You have undoubtedly heard of the death of Dr. 
Spurzheim, the celebrated phrenologist and physiologist. 
He was a man of rare endowments, vast information, sin- 
gular acuteness, intimate knowledge of the world, uncom- 
mon candor, persevering industry, searching observation, 
and truly philosophical spirit. His death will be widely 
felt and sincerely mourned both in this country and in 
Europe. I saw him in Boston, and heard him lecture 
with much pleasure." 

To a friend : — 

" October 23, 1833. 

" I rejoice to hear of your improved health. . . . Let me 
entreat you to pursue the course which I recommended to 
you when we were last together. Put your feelings into 
action, and you will recognize their importance. Engage 
in works of iDcnevolence and usefulness. Especially would 
I once more suggest to you the benefit to be derived 
from the charge of a Bible class. Consider how delightful 
would be the task of training young minds for heaven ! 
Meanwhile, you had better commence housekeeping, and 
have some command of your time. Spend as many hours 
as possible in retirement. You will enjoy it, and it will 
do you good." 

To his father : — 

"January 10, 1834. 

"... I entirely agree with you as to the treatise of Mr. 
Gurney, I have never seen the great doctrines of the gos- 
pel presented in a manner so simple and scriptural. The 
book is written, as you are probably aware, by a Qiiaker ; 
and yet I presume that Episcopalians, Presbyterians, 
Methodists, and Baptists, would unite with him in every 
sentiment which it contains. This results from the fact 
that he confines himself closely to scriptural statements. 
One thing, at least, is thus made manifest — that Christians 
differ from each other, not so much respecting what the 
Bible teaches, as about their own glosses and deductions 
fi'om it. How much wiser, happier, and more united should 
we all be, if we were willing to be simple-hearted disci-, 
pics of the Holy Oracles ! I sincerely hope that such a 
union is advancing. I think I observe, that, in the char- 
acter of the religious literature which is getting into cir- 


dilation, we find more unction, a stronger leaning to- 
wards experimental religion and ' heart-work,' than has 
been seen heretofore. 

" In my last letter to S., I alluded to Mrs. Fry's recent 
work — *• Christ our example.' It is written in an admira- 
ble spirit, and should be widely circulated. I hope you 
will read it carefully, and get several copies to lend where 
such a book is needed. It is adapted to the wants of all 

On the death of his early friend, Rev. Dr. Wisner, he 
writes to the bereaved widow, — 

" Providence, February lo, 1835. 

" My dear Friend : I have just heard the melancholy 
tidings. I fear to break in upon the depth of your sor- 
row by writing, and yet I can do nothing else until I have 
mingled my grief with yours. But what shall I say? and 
how shall I comfort you? I know in part what the 
world, and the church, and the missionary cause have 
lost, but what you have lost, no one but yourself can ap- 

'"Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself, O God 
of Israel, the Savior.' ' I was dumb. I opened not my 
mouth, because thou didst it.' 'As for our God, his 
way is perfect.' These and similar passages of Scripture 
are in my mind continually, and I know that with such 
consolations you are staying yourself in this hour of your 
awful visitation. 

" I feel as though I had lost a brother. You know 
how long we were associated together, and how, almost 
from boyhood, we were united. I do not think that there 
is any one left on earth, out of my own family, with 
whom so much of my life has been spent. We sat on 
the same seat in college, we were tutors at the same time, 
and for five years we labored together in Boston. All 
now comes up before me — his frankness, his generosity, 
his steadfast and unchanging piety, his soundness of judg- 
ment, his sagacity in counsel, his faithfulness in advice. 

"But why do I speak of my feelings? When I think 
of you, my heart bleeds. I have gone through such a 
scene, and I know something of its sorrows. I can at 
this moment sympathize with you in your bereavement ; 


and day after day, as though I were with you, I shall 
bear your grief, and go with it to the throne of grace. I 
trust you have the presence of Christ. I am sure he will 
not leave you at such a time. I pray that he may abun- 
dantly comfort you, and lead you to rest upon him. 

"Can I do anything for you? Can I in any manner 
alleviate the bitter distress with which you are over- 
whelmed? I beg you to consider my house as one of 
your many homes. May the blessed God be with and 
sustain you. Yours affectionately, 

F. Wayland. 

" Save me a pen, or whatever you can spare without 
robbing yourself." 

A few months later, he lost, in the death of Thomas P. 
Ives, Esq., of Providence, one of his wisest counsellors, 
a life-long friend of the college, and a most useful and 
valued citizen. In reference to this sad event, Dr. Way- 
land writes to his sister, May 14, 1835, — 

"... I came home, as you are already aware, to a 
scene of deep affliction and most sad and affecting be- 
reavement. I left Mr. Ives in health : his was the last 
house at which I called. It was the first which I visited 
on my return, and I found him in the chamber of death, 
after a sickness of scarcely seven days. I did not know 
that he had been ill until I was informed of his death. 
There is reason to hope that his end was peace. He was 
always, from my first coming here, my steadfast, sincere, 
kind, and sympathizing friend ; a prudent counsellor, a 
most upright merchant, a man of unerring sagacity, of 
instinctive benevolence, and great natural and cultivated 
courtesy. I have rarely known a man whom I esteemed 
more, or whom every one considered so thoroughly 
worthy of esteem. The loss to the college and to me is, 
so far as man can see, irreparable." 

November 20, 1837, ^^ writes to a friend who had suf- 
fered serious losses in business, — 

" Your last letter has given me great pain. I sincerely 
regret that you should be thus involved, and can hardly 
imagine how it has happened. I presume that your pecu- 
niary difficulties must have been caused by some specula- 


tion. What my views on this subject are you already 
know. Still, what has been clone cannot be recalled. All 
that remains is to act wisely under existing circumstances. 

" The condition in which you find yourself is one which 
sorely tries the character of men. How many, when thus 
tried, utterly fail ! You can now lose cither property 
alone, or both property and character. Sec to it that you 
lose only the former. Look at your aflairs calmly, with 
the advice of judicious friends. Ascertain at once what 
property you have, and make every sacrifice to pay your 
debts. If possible, discharge every obligation to the utter- 
most, and give up everything to accomplish this result. 
I would glory in being poor for the sake of being strictly 
just. This is called for by correct principles of conduct, 
and is still more strongly demanded by your Christian pro- 
fession. You have now a better opportunity to demon- 
strate the value of religious principle than you may ever 
have again. Resolve to pursue such a course as I have 
ventured to indicate, and you will at once feel a peace of 
mind which nothing else can give. Let me urge you to 
act as promptly as is practicable, for suspense in such a 
case is always peculiarly painful. 

" You are abundantly able to make yourself indepen- 
dent by your own exertions, and therefore need not be con- 
cerned about the future. Be not discouraged. Be just, 
and fear not. Cast all your care upon God, who careth 
for you, and he will deliver you in due time." 

To the wife of tliis friend. Dr. Wayland writes, — 

" The simple loss of property, when one is able to earn 
his own support, is very bearable. You do not, 1 am con- 
fident, feel apprehensive of coming to want. You may, 
indeed, be compelled to live less expensively. But this 
will diminish your domestic cares, and may result in your 
living quite as comfortably and much more pleasantly. 
You will need fewer servants, and will be subject to fewer 
interruptions. Do not fear a disclosure of the change in 
your circumstances. See to it that you act right, and you 
will gain the respect and love of all the good ; for the 
opinion of the rest you do not care. 

" In such cases there are some duties especially devolving 
upon a wife, of which I beg leave to remind you. Never 
say, ' I told you so.' Seek to be cheerful, and to look at 


things precisely as they are. Show by your conduct that 
you are not concerned about the loss of property. En- 
deavor, at once, to reduce your expenses to the lowest 
point. Do for yourself what others have hitherto done 
for you. Practise entire plainness in dress. If I am not 
mistaken, you have a lai-ge investment in jewels. Pardon 
me if I suggest that it may be your duty to dispose of 
them. Under existing circumstances, would it not be a 
reproach to you to wear them ? 

•• Encourage your husband to sacrifice even"thing rather 
than abandon a single point of high Christian integrity. 
Let it be seen that, although he may have made an error 
in judgment, he is still determined to pursue a strictly 
honorable course. Xo matter how unjustly he may have 
been treated bv others, he is now called upon to act for 
himself. Others mav have involved him in purse ; let 
them not also involve him in reputation. I am particularly 
desirous that you should both show the elevation of char- 
acter which becomes you as Christians. 

" I know you will not for a moment doubt that I sin- 
cerely sympathize with you in your present distress, or 
that the advice which I have sriven has been dictated bv 
afiection. I do not see that you have anything to reproach 
yourself with. You could not have prevented what has oc- 
curred, and therefore you are in no manner responsible 
for the result. This being the case, do not ' borrow trouble.' 
Endeavor to act like a Christian woman and a Christian 
wife. Save all vou can, and be willins: that all should see 
that you are saving. Uphold your husband in doing right. 
Do not pine or repine ; but • bear up, and steer right on- 
ward.' I pray God to support and comfort you. Try to 
leave all with him. We see at present but in part, but we 
shall see fully in the end. You do not know how rich 
this cloud may prove to be in blessing." 

A call to the Federal Street Church, in Boston, which 
he received in the fall of 1S3S, was the occasion of the 
following letters to Deacon Heman Lincoln : — 

" Providence, November, 1S3S. 

" !My dear Brother : . . . Your letter of this morning 
is just received. It is, of course, a serious matter, de- 
manding grave and prayerful reflection. It does not ap- 


pear to be my duty, but it deserves examination. Were I 
to be settled in a city, I should prefer Federal Street Church 
to any church I know of. 1 love the ministry ; and were 
the choice an open one, I rather think I should decide 
for it. But I will not prejudge the matter, or even write 
about it. Ask the direction of God in my behalf." 

A week later he writes, — 

" Yours of yesterday was received in the evening. The 
case you present shows that the door is fairly opened to 
go to Federal Street. It, however, does not show that it is 
open for me to leave the college. These are two different 
questions. The one by no means includes the other. I 
am prepared to hear all that can be said in the case, but, 
as yet, see no reason to think that it will be my duty to 

" While I write thus, I beg you to be assured that I feel 
a deep sense of gratitude for this instance of the confidence 
of my brethren. I shall cherish a peculiar interest in 
them, and a strong desire to serve them. If I do not go, 
I will labor with the utmost zeal to procure a pastor for 
them, and shall not rest until it is accomplished." 

The following letter to Rev. Dr. Bartol contains an 

allusion to the same subject : — 

" November 15, 1838. 

" My dear Brother : I cannot resist the impulse to an- 
swer immediately your kind and excellent letter of yes- 
terday, which has been this moment received. I thank 
you for your clear and distinct views, and for the candor 
with which they are expressed. I am peculiarly gratified, 
inasmuch as they entirely coincide with my own. 

" As the case was a grave one, and I felt that I might 
misjudge in my own calling, I was sincerely desirous to 
know how the matter was looked upon by unprejudiced 
observers who saw it from a distance, and would take in 
its whole bearings perhaps better than I, The fact is, I 
am partial to the ministry ; it is specially good for a man's 
soul, and I never intended to abandon it for life when I 
commenced teaching. But God has given me so much 
greater success in teaching than in preaching ; my labors 
have seemed so much more effectual ; the number of those 
who succeed in teaching appears so much less than in 


preaching ; my health is so much better ; and, so far as I 
see, the present situation is so clearly preferable for H., 
both in climate and duties, — that I should not feel au- 
thorized to leave unless there were a manifest intimation 
of Providence. . . ." 

To Rev. Dr. Hoby : — 

"December 25, 1838. 

" That you did not see more of Dr. Potter, I regret as 
inuch as you. He w^as one of my earliest friends, and we 
have been intimate since the commencement of our ac- 
quaintance. I scarcely know a more excellent, amiable, 
or able man. His time abroad was limited, as he was 
obliged to be at home in September. I presume he re- 
mained in Birminf^ham as lonsf as he could. I would most 
gladly have been with him, and do not yet quite give up 
all hope of following him. I yearn to visit the graves of 
my ancestors ; the tombs of the mighty dead, of whom I 
have read from childhood ; the homes of England, both of 
high and low degree ; to look upon that land where civili- 
zation has reached a higher point than any other country 
has ever attained ; and to see the eminent men who are 
doing honor to our language and to our nature." 

To Rev. Dr. Bartol : — 

"January 3, 1.39. 

"... I have read the article on Cromwell in the West- 
minster Review. It has many fine passages, and is written 
by a strong man. As Robert Hall said of Owen, though 
he dives deep, he sometimes comes up muddy. In his 
endeavor to be far-reaching and profound, he is sometimes, 
if not frequently, obscure. He has a better knowledge of 
the character of Cromwell than any one whom I have 
read. I should have liked the article better if it had been 
more historical and less philosophical. Still I rejoice to 
see it. There have been very few men with whom Crom- 
well could be compared. As was said about Napoleon, 
we must search centuries for his parallel. The world has 
seen few such men, and to few has it been more flagrantly 
unjust. Literature owes Cromwell much, for she has 
robbed him sorely. I rejoice to see one instalment of 
the debt paid. As to the death of Charles I., I consider 
it rather an irregular proceeding, but it was really with 


Cromwell very much a matter of necessity. If he had not 
killed the king, the king would have killed him ; and it 
vvould be difficult to prove that the king had a better right 
to the throne than he, . . ." 

To a clergyman : — 

"January 12, 1839, 

"... I am pleased to learn that my services seem likely 
to be useful, I like the work of the ministry, and some- 
times doubt whether I ought to have left it, I have no 
time now to write sermons, or I should preach oftener. I 
am not quite sure that you are correct in the notion that a 
man can write sermons to better purpose when out of the 
ministiy, Dr, Stillman once said that the oftener an oven 
was heated, the easier it was to heat it, I used to find 
that I wrote more readily, and I think more effectively, 
the more I wrote. Fox was in the habit of speaking every 
night when he first entered Parliament. It is perfectly 
amazing to perceive the amount of speaking done by men 
who accustom themselves to it in Parliament and in the 
courts of law in England. Erskine's speeches make two 
thick octavo volumes, closely printed ; and yet it is stated, 
in the preface to the English edition, that they comprise 
the labors of only three weeks out of a life of thirty years' 
service at the bar. What an inexhaustible volcano such 
a mind must be. The same must be true of other men, 
especially of almost any of the chancellors of Great Brit- 
ain. Indeed, I rather suppose that the human mind does 
not improve so much, in advancing life, in power to do 
great things, as in the power to do the same things with 
less labor. I doubt whether Canning could speak better 
at fifty than at thirty ; but he could speak as well on the 
instant at the former age, as by a week's preparation in 
the latter. Hence I conclude that the oftener a man 
preaches, the easier and the better he will preach." 

To his sister, December 23, 1S39: — 

"... You ask me about the state of the soul after death 
and before the resurrection. The Scriptures are almost 
silent on the subject, and on such topics, where they teach 
but little, we cannot know much. What they have taught 
us seems to me substantially as follows : The human be- 
ing may exist as body and spirit united ; as sjoirit discou- 


nected from the body ; and as spirit united to what the 
apostle calls a glorified or spiritual body. The first is 
our state here. Tjie last will be our state after the second 
resurrection, as I suppose St. Paul teaches in the 15th 
chapter ist Corinthians, and in the Epistle to the Thessa- 
lonians. The second, I have thought, will be our state 
after death and before the resurrection. It will, I sup- 
pose, be a state of inconceivable joy to the righteous, and 
of sorrow to the wicked, but still inferior to the final state 
of both. Our Savior, as I have always believed, passed 
through all that we are to pass through. He lived as we 
live ; was a man of like passions as we are. He died as 
we die. He existed, as to his human soul, separate from 
his body ; and on the third day he was clothed in a glori- 
fied or spiritual body, being thus the first fruits of them 
that sleep. Such are my views, briefly and without argu- 
ment. Where I derived them, except from the Scriptures, 
or who believes as I do, I da not know." 

To the same, February 16, 1840: — 

"Your inquiries respecting self-examination are not so 
unusual as you might suppose ; nor do they betray a state 
of mind to which a religious friend should show no quar- 
ter. They (that is, your representations of your own feel- 
ings) indicate a state of mind in which the knowledge 
of duty is superior to the performance ; the conscience, 
aware of the discrepancy, occasionally stimulating the 
performance, so that the two do not lose sight of each 
other, yet not quickening the soul to such habitual action 
as shall keep them near to each other. If such be a true 
exposition of the case, the result to be feared is, that the 
knowledge of duty and the performance may gradually 
lose sight of each other altogether. The thing to be de- 
sired is, to bring them into more im.mediate communion, 
and establish between them the relation of steadfast cause 
and effect. 

" Now, if we inquire into the cause of this state of mind, 
I think we shall find it to be this : We do not allow our 
moral faculties a fair opportunity. The soul of man is a 
stage, on which is carried forward a daily contest between 
the powers of the present world and the powers of the 
world to come. The soul herself holds the balance be- 
tween them. As she yields to the powers of the world, 


they gain strength and the others decline ; as she governs 
the passions and strives after holiness, the reverse takes 
place. In such a state of mind as you describe, the bal- 
ance is not evenly held. We must give more scope to 
spiritual things. To be more specific, we shall generally 
find, upon looking into the matter, that reading, study, 
business, or something else, has crowded out religion, and 
that we do not allow ourselves sufficient time for prayer 
and reflection. We must then turn over a new leaf, and 
permit the duties of religion to resume the ground they 
have unrighteously lost. By portioning out your day, 
and adhering to the resolution, you will find where the 
difficulty is, and also the remedy. Time devoted to calm 
reflection will recall us to ourselves. A season of special 
humiliation is frequently useful ; but this will only be of 
temporary advantage if our daily arrangements are not 
so made as to give their due share to religion and to God. 
J3ut perhaps as good a way of knowing our hearts as any 
other is, to do our duty. Goethe says, as I am told, ' Do 
your duty if you would know what is in you.' 

" You speak of a tendency to deify abstract holiness, 
instead of being practically holy. This must be so if our 
hearts are by nature deceitful. We are very prone to do 
anything leather than our duty. But this tendency we 
must strive against, knowing that it is a part of ' the body 
of sin and death.' . . . 

" That you cannot by searching find out God is not re- 
markable, it having been observed as long ago as the time 
of Job. Nor is it wrong, so far as I can see, for you to 
love the image of God reflected in nature. He has said, 
' Because they regard not the works of the Lord, nor con- 
sider the operations of his hand, he will destroy them.' 

"... As to the personal reign of Christ, I have no 
knowledge. I have never found anything to warrant be- 
lief in it. I see no reason to suppose that Messiah will 
come to this earth until he comes to judgment, and then 
the world and the things of it will be burned up. I believe, 
however, that his gospel will triumph, and this earth be 
wholly subject unto him. 

"... Free toleration in religion is attended by (I do not 
say causes) bad enough preaching ; but I have not dis- 
covered that the absence of toleration has been attended by 



"... If the Head of the church had no more patience 
with preachers than tliey deserve, I am sure that their 
condition would be a sad one. My sympathies are, I must 
confess, with the people rather than with the clergy. 
There are not very many Avho do as well as they can. 
Old Dr. Ryland, a very irascible man, once heard a miser- 
able choir sing. He stopped them in anger, saying, ' If 
the angels in heaven should hear you, they would wring 
your little necks off.' How much better would some 
ministers fare?" 



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