-pROPERff^

PHIKCETOH
nnU iitp 1880

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OCCASIONAL SERMONS

ADDRESSES.

OCCASIONAL SERMONS

ADDRESSES.

SAMUEL w. Wisher, d.d.,

PRESIDENT OF UA MILTON COLLEGE.

NEW YORK:

5 AND 7 MERCER STREET.
18 6 0.

Entered, aceording to Act of Congress, in the year 18C0,

By mason r. rotiiees.

In the Clerk's Office of the District Conit for the Southern District of New York.

8 T i: R i: o T T 1' r. i> by

T. B. SMITH & SON,

82 & 84 Beekman-st., N. Y.

pniNTi:i) HT

C. A. ALVOKD,

IR Vundewafor-Btreet N. Y,

TO THE ALUMNI AND FRIENDS

H^^MIITjTOlSr COLI^mGE^

PROMOTERS OF CHRISTIAN SCHOLARSHIP,

THIS VOLUME

RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES

MOST CORDIALLY AND RESPECTFULLY

INSCRI-BKD.

PREFACE.

A number of the discourses contained in this
volume have been previously in print. In publishing
them with others the author has yielded to the request
of friends, in whose judgment he has entire confidence.
In this more permanent form it is hoped they may
subserve the interests of education and true religion.
The titles and the occasions on which they were deliv-
ered will sufficiently indicate their character. The
author regrets that the pressure of public duties has
not permitted him to give to these pages that thorough
revision which would render the volume more worthy
the attention of those who take an interest in these
discussions.
»

Uamilton College, Dec, 1859.

CONTENTS.

EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.
I.

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION 15

II.
THEOLOGICAL TRAINING 46

III.
FEMALE EDUCATION 82

IV.

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION 117

LITERARY ADDRESSES.

V.
THE SUPREMACY OF MIND 145

VL

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION 171

X CONTENTS.

VII.

pa(;e
OBSTACLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS TO MISSIONARY EFFORT

IN THE ANCIENT AND MODERN CHURCH 210

VIII.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS TO ART AND

THEOLOGY 238

HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

IX.
JOHN CALVIN 273

X.

WILLIAM PENN 341

XL

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY 376

XII.

HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OP GOD'S PROVIDENCE 41 :5

CONTENTS. Xi

OCCASIONAL SERMONS,
xin.'

FASU

CONFLICT A2^D REST IN THE CHURCH 437

XIV.
PRESBYTERr 487

XV.
BACCALAUREATE DISCOURSE ', 525

XVI.
THE FINANCIAL CRISLS 660

EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

I.

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION.

Gentlemen of the Board of Trustees :

Your election to the high otiice into which you have
this day inducted me, is a sufficient declaration of your con-
fidence in the soundness of my views on the subject of Colle-
giate Education. Yet, called as I have been from another
position in some respects unlike this, where, amidst the in-
tense activities and earnest life of a great city, it has been my
privilege to preach the gospel ; it is fitting that on this occa-
sion I should shadow forth those principles which seem to me
to constitute a truly Christian education. I say Christian
education ; for, although the Presidency of this Institution
differs in some things from the pastorship of a church, yet it
is only as a Christian minister, carrying into this new posi-
tion the same high aims which belong to such a ministry, and
seeking, by all fit means to bring the gospel to bear in its
purifying power upon the hearts of these young men, that I
could consent to take it upon me. With that education which
limits its aims to this world, which rejects the grand motive
forces drawn from the life to come, I have no sympathy. It
is as a Christian minister, regarding his office as the noblest
and most effective for good, far above all mere presidencies
and offices of secular trust, however exalted in the world's
view, that I appear here to-day.

Viewing the post to which you have called me, as furnish-
ing prospectively one of the finest fields for the exercise of

* Delivered at the inauguration of the author as the sixth President of
Hamilton College, at Clinton, New York, Thursday, November 4, 1858.

16 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

the best talents of the minister of Jesus ; where, in the
training of those who are to be leaders in the State and the
Church, all the resources of study and the results of a large
experience in the busy scenes of life, might be made avail-
able, I have felt its responsibilities and yielded to its claims.
Education loses its chief dignity, its noblest end and bright-
est light are neglected and quenched, when its relation to the
grander future of the soul is either despised or subordinated
to the interests of this life. And if on this occasion, while
speaking on so trite, and yet so ever fresh a subject as educa-
tion, I should dwell more fully than has been usual, on its
relation to man's higher interests ; you will find my apology,
if any such be needed, in the importance of this relation to
the whole sphere of College life.

Education, as to its subject, divides itself naturally into
the pliysical, the intellectual, the spiritual. The body is in
one aspect the temple, in another the agent, in another still
an organic force of the soul. Its form so erect, its structure
so exquisite, its adaptations so manifold, fit it for these pur-
poses, and give it dignity and importance. So powerfully
does its condition in consequence of its mysterious relation to
the soul, modify the manifestations of the latter that it can
not well be lost sight of in the training of the man. We
may not fully understand the relation, but the results of it
are broadly manifest. The finest intellectual culture is dearly
bought at the cost of shattered nerves and a broken constitu-
tion. There is indeed a much more intimate connection be-
tween the highest efforts of mind and a sound constitution,
than we are ordinarily ready to admit. We discourse of the
superiority of the soul to the body, until we half persuade
ourselves the one is almost complete without the other. We
call up instances of men who, like Calvin, with a feeble frame
have undergone prodigious intellectual labor ; but we forget
how these very men have generally died before their time :
we forget how many minds have been crippled and rendered
useless by ill health : we mark the exceptions and lose sight
of the rule. The steam is useless unless vour boiler be

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 17

stanch ; 'your mental culture will never qualify you for pro-
tracted and liigli-wrought thought, unless you have physical
stamina to sustain you in the effort. There is nothing that
so tasks the jDower of endurance as the incessant mental toil
required of most of our professional and educated men ; and
he who comes forth to his work with a hale constitution has
an advantage inestimable above his feeble and broken com-
peer. It was due largely to his high health and strong
constitution, established by early toil, that Washington bore
up the burden of so immense a responsibility, for so many
years of public life. It was his early drill in the army that
imparted to him whose illustrious name this Institution
bears, the vital force that sustained him in his gigantic la-
bors, which while they won the gratitude of a nation, gave
him the highest seat among the great intellects of the Revo-
lution. And hence, too, it is, that the country-bred youth,
accustomed to ride, and hunt, and swing the ax, do most
generally carry the day, even in the strife of intellect, over
the youth bred in cities and reared in the hot-house atmos-
phere of their superficial and ephemeral excitements. Now
the college receives the youth just at the time when he is ris-
ing rapidly to the full stature of tlie man ; he attains the
growth, he ripens into the maturity of manhood during these
years ; and while in this process, it is of the last importance
he should enjoy that physical training which shall knit his
frame, expand his lungs, give erectness to his form, litheness
to his limbs, toughness to his sinews, and solid fullness to liis
brain. It is not that he may run or wrestle, or row in
Olympic games ; we care not for these crowns that perish
ere the garments of the victor are laid aside ; it i.s that he
who has gained this sinewy toughness may bear up like a man
under the greater struggles of after life : that he may not be
compelled to carry the burden of an enfeebled constitution,
when he needs all his powers for the higher work before him :
we would send him forth from these Halls a man, full of
vital energy which braves danger, which laughs at difficul-
ties, which rejoices in labor — a man with all the refinement

2

18 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

of an Attic culture crowning the vigor of a Spartan disci-
pline.

To effect this object, various methods have been employed.
It is now some years, since the plan of combining systematic
manual labor with mental culture was attempted in this coun-
try on a large scale. The results of this experiment are not
such as to commend it for general adoption. The working of
it revealed two fatal defects. The system of labor, to be suc-
cessful, demands so much time and interest and energy as
practically to break in upon and injure the system of study
it was designed to invigorate. The servant thus became the
master : the inferior object thrust aside the superior — nor was
this all : the student needed recreation ; he was put to what
shortly became drudgery : he wanted something that should
have the interest and lightness of j^lay ; he was made to work.
The brain demanded refreshment, the body exercise : there
was in the system, exercises for the one, but nothing to give
sj)ring, elasticity, and life to the other. In some institutions,
the daily military drill answers an important purpose. It
gives erectness to the form, expansion to the chest, precision
to the movements, and a manly bearing. But even this, when
made prominent, becomes shortly mechanical, and loses its
power to divert the mind.

At the present day, the gymnasium has risen into an almost
necessary institution — combining in itself a great variety of
exercise, it answers largely the purpose of developing all the
forces of the body, and giving play and elasticity to the intel-
lect. Doubtless a combination of this with the occasional
military drill and the out-door sports of summer, would most
effectually impart a fine muscular development, power of en-
durance, and an open, manly bearing. Situated as we are —
the college crowning the hill, the village resting in this inter-
vale, amidst this bracing atmosphere — the students of this
Institution find much of their recreation in the invigorating
exercise which their position compels. In their eftbrts to
ascend the hill of science, they are aided not a little by the
health and vigor gained in the ascent of another hill less ideal,

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 19

from whose summit the eye looks out upon a landscape of
rare beauty and wide extent.

In considering education with respect to the culture of the
mind, I propose to unfold what constitutes the prominent
character of our collegiate system. We have just as truly an
American Collegiate system, as we have a peculiar system of
law, of government, or a peculiar form of national life. Based
originally upon that of the English University, it has grown
up in harmony with our circumstances : it has been modified
by the life of our people. It may be in some respects imper-
fect ; it is doubtless, even in our oldest colleges, behind the
most celebrated universities of tHe old world ; yet such as it
is, it is our own, conformed to the genius of our institutions,
pervaded largely by their spirit and ministering most effec-
tually to their support. It is not the academy ; it is not the
university ; it is simply the college. It is neither originally
popular, as are the common school and academy ; nor is it
specific, as is the case with institutions limited to one or two
departments of knowledge ; nor is it designed, as in the higher
course of the university, to carry the education to the most
elevated point in all the special divisions of science.

I can not well unfold the true genius of the American sys-
tem of collegiate education, without describing the objects at
which it aims. These are threefold. 1st. It seeks to exer-
cise, to strengthen and harmoniously develop all the powers
of the intellect. The mind has its capacities, which must be
put forth into action before they ripen into strong forces.
The same process of downright effort, which ministers growth
and fullness to the other powers of manhood, is equally essen-
tial here. This intellect is capable of holding in its memory
facts, laws, ideas, words, associations without limit ; but un-
less you put it to the task of doing this work, unless you
select and direct the things which it shall treasure up, and
teach it how to arrange them in such order as to be ready for
after use, the memory remains either an undeveloped capacity,
or a storehouse of what is insignificant and trivial, or a mere
collection of loose and disjointed material. The youth has

20 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

tlie capacity of comparing, of contrasting, of judging "between
things similar, and opposite ; but if you give to that latent
power no fit exercise, or no fit subjects on which to exercise
itself, it remains feeble, or incapable of determining what is
true on the most important themes. He has the ability dor-
mant within him of abstracting his mind from outward things
and fixing it steadily upon one subject ; of analysis ; of re-
composition and deduction ; but this ability must be made
available and real by long and steady exercise. Justly to
analyze, or rightly to gather up conclusions from various par-
ticulars is the resultant of a thorough process of development.
So the imagination must be chastened and enlarged in its
range : the love of the beautiful cultivated and refined ; and
the power of just criticism developed.

Now the college takes the youth after the school and the
academy have trained him in the elementary studies : at a
time when the reflective powers begin to open freely : when
with coming manhood, childish things cease to interest, and
the soul aspires to put forth its undeveloped powers in those
directions which lead to high attainments. Just at this
period, we seek to give this germinant intellect the exercise
it needs to reveal all its secret energies. "VVe aim not to stim-
ulate and work it in one or two directions ; but to furnish
that varied round of labor which will give to all its powers an
harmonious and symmetrical unfolding. For, as in the finest
gymnastics of the body, neither the hand alone, nor the eye,
nor the chest, nor the limbs, but all together are disciplined
and made eflective ; so in the gymnastics of the mind, neither
the power of language alone, nor the power of intuition, nor
the power of mere reasoning, nor the imagination, but all of
them find something to stimulate, to invigorate, to unfold.
It usually hap2)ens that minds vary much in their aptitude
for difierent studies. It is rare that the original forces are
graduated so as to touch at once all parts of a circle. One
masters easily the pure mathematics, while he remembers and
analyzes with difiiculty a sentence in Tacitus. One ascends
spontaneously into the regions of imagination — a nature full

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 21

of poetry — to whom the resolution of his own mental and
moral powers is a task and drudgery. Now instead of humor-
ing these several aptitudes at the first, and so increasing the
natural disproportion, and leaving the mind without a capa-
city developed in any other direction ; we would have the
youth wait until the time comes for the choice of a profession
in which to indulge, if he should so choose, the natural bent
of his intellect.

Meanwhile we will teach the mathematician how to mas-
ter language : we will chasten the poetic imagination by the
drill of abstract science : we will assist the man of verbal
memory to go through difficult processes of reasoning : we
will endeavor to cultivate in all the power of profound reflec-
tion and just discrimination, so that wdien they go forth into
life, it will not be with a partial — a distorted — a one-sided
intellect — a mind that has ability only in one line, and is
prevented by its very training from advancing in any other.
The system of collegiate discipline thus seeks to give breadth,
solidity, proportion to all the powers. It seeks to jDrepare a
man to enter upon the special training that belongs to each
profession, Avith a mind so exercised and informed as to be
effective, according to its original endowments, in that or any
other direction. It does not contemplate making this man a
Grecian, that one a Mathematician, another one a Khetori-
cian, a Surveyor, or Astronomer. It leaves these special at-
tainments for after study — individual choice. It supposes
that the Grecian, the Mathematician and the Rhetorician
will be vastly more accomplished as scholars, and not at all
less accomplished in the specialities they have chosen, by
having thoroughly mastered the entire circle of college studies.
And hence it obliges them all, during this stage of their train-
ing, to test their capacity and discipline their powers in all
directions : confident that from so varied and thorough a
course they will come forth stronger and better proportioned
minds : better fitted for the general work of life, or to mnke
large attainments and push themselves with greatest success
in some one department. This thorough discipline of all the

22 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

mental powers, is fundamental to an American system of col-
legiate education. This is its first great idea. It builds a
broad foundation, solid and true, on which the structure of a
profession may be afterwards reared.

Let us now advance to a second characteristic of this sys-
tem. It aims to teach the true method of science, lohile it
familiarizes the mind loith the general principles that wider-
lie it. It is not enough merely to exercise the mental facul-
ties. They should be developed along the line of truth : they
should be taught how to master the problems that meet us :
the mind should be inducted into the method of successful
investigation. This mind may be endowed with splendid
powers ; and yet if it know not the way in which the highest
results may be reached, the very greatness of these abilities
will only facilitate its progress in error. " The lame," says
Bacon, " in the j^ath outstrip the swift who wander from it ;
and it is clear that the very skill and swiftness of him who
runs not in the right direction, must increase his abeiTation."
It is he who holds in his hand the clue who is able most suc-
cessfully to explore the labyrinth. The grander the genius
the greater his error, if he know not the path in which truth
must be sought. He may have vast learning and spend years
in elaborating a monument that shall stand, like Warburton's
" Divine Legation," full of the riches of knowledge, yet utterly
valueless with respect to the position sought to be established.
Thomas Aquinas has written wdth astonishing acuteness what
it would take almost a lifetime for an ordinary mind to com-
pass ; yet Thomas Aquinas is only a mighty shade, not a
living, animating power to improve and guide the world.
Had this stalwart mind adopted a method of study more just
and tnie, what grand results might he not have reached ?
what light might he not have thrown forward upon the com-
ing generations ? It is thus a great point in education to
teach not only the limitations of knowledge, but the methods
by which the knowledge attainable must be sought. These
methods vary as the knowledge itself varies. The method of
the poet is not that of the logician : the method of the mathe-

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 23

matician is not tliat of the moral philosopher : the method of
the naturalist is not that of the rhetorician. They may all
have some points of agreement, but they have likewise im-
portant differences. In these the mind is to be fully in-
structed— instructed not merely in theory, but trained by
individual exercise. The course of study must be such as
will compel the working of the intellect in these different
methods ; that by a thorough mastery of each, their true
nature may be seen and felt, and the mind, when it enters
upon one or the other, will spontaneously and vigorously fol-
low out its peculiar laws. When a man has thus grasped
these methods of searching after the truth, when his intellect
has been habituated to work easily in each according to its
nature ; then is he prepared to advance intelligently and suc-
cessfully in any one he may choose. He will not confound
them in practice : he will not demand in religion the demon-
strations of mathematics, nor build his philosophy of the
mind upon the creations of the imagination. Thus trained,
he is not only able to think, but to think so as to make his
every attainment a step from which to rise to other and
higher attainments.

Now, by thus becoming thoroughly drilled in the method
of science, there will follow another result that gives its char-
acter to the educated mind ; and this is a familiarity with
the general principles of science in its various departments.
The student gradually advances from point to point, until he
has before him the whole field of truth in its great outlines
and relations. He gains a comprehensive survey of thought
as a whole, in some one or two departments of which he is
hereafter to labor. Now this position is of immense advan-
tage ; for all science is most intimately related. Its source is
in one infinite Intellect from which came forth the grand idea.
Creation and all its laws are a unit ; diverse, multiform, often
apparently contrasted, like the huge crests of the world which
have broken up the once level strata ; yet there is a real har-
mony between them. The music of the spheres is just as
sweet, it is just as true in the matin of the lark and the hum

24 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUBSES.

of the bee, as when it swells in the grander diapason of the
universe. The pure abstractions of mathematics find a home
in the skies ; and yet are linked to the forms which Nature
assumes in the grass at your feet, in the tree that lifts its
branches into the heavens, and in the colors that deck the
world in beauty. The laws which control society in its growth
and life, lie on one side in the soul of man ; on the other in
the bosom of the earth, in the atmosphere around, and ascend
to the orb which exerts so vast an influence on man and his
abode. An elastic vapor which unconfined disappears, con-
fined and guarded by science enters into and becomes one of
the vital forces that shape the whole progress of society. As-
tronomy, which at one time is a fancy and an abstraction, at
another gives laws to every ship that sails the ocean. So all
science works together ; and just so fixr as men can enter into
the mighty system of the original Planner, it reveals un-
thought of harmonies, it adjusts itself spontaneously in grand
accord with the highest intelligence and finest development
of human society.

Now it is a matter of large influence, it enters as an ele-
ment of great force into the work the man of education is
called to do ; when he can go forth to this work from the
vantage of a position where he takes in these principles of
science and sees their intimate relations. Cicero was the
grandest mind of Eome, not only because of his "golden
mouth," nor because of his comprehensive statesmanship ;
but chiefly because he had mastered the general principles of
all the science of his day. In this he rose superior to Horten-
sius, to Pompey, to Ceesar. He had risen into the highest
empyrean of science ; he had bathed his wings in the pure
sunlight far above the vapors that enshrouded the multitude ;
he had surveyed with a keen eye and masterly comprehension
the whole field of pagan learning ; from his lofty eyrie he
went forth at will to gather their treasures from the land and
from the sea ; there he nourished his strength ; and woe to
Catiline, to Verres, to Antony, when he swooped down upon
them from his place of power ! joy to the Kepublic when the

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 25

gi-and old Roman poured the wisdom of his counscA upon the
willing ears of her Senate yet unfallen, and grasping the Fas-
ces of her dread sovereignty shook them proudly in the faces of
her enemies ! And so Avhen other things are equal, it will ever
be that the man who has mastered the general elements of
that system of truth which is built up as a grand temple
around us will show himself the superior, the chief among his
fellows. From this so wide a range of knowledge, he not only
acquires the materials of illustration, which contribute so
powerfully to the success of the orator ; but he finds these
principles so allied to each other that in whatever direction
he pushes his investigations, sjiontaneously they send in their
contributions : lights flame out on every side : he stands in
the center : he concentrates their blaze into an intenser light
upon the subject he is seeking to penetrate. They guide, they
illustrate the student's path. They facilitate the physician's
diagnosis, by revealing the latent connection of spirit and
body. They expand and ennoble the forensic efforts of the
lawyer, by bringimg the science which he wields for the cause
of justice, into sympathy and union with the profounder prin-
ciples of divine law. They give comprehension and elevation
to the statesman, teaching him how human government hath
its roots in a sublimer system of order, that hath its seat in
the bosom of God, and its home in all the universe of animate
existence. They give to the naturalist a larger vision, reveal-
ing to him the higher laws which bind together all things
material and immaterial. They assist the minister of Jesus
in his demonstrations of the truth of Scripture, enabling him
to exhibit the verities of both revelations as all in harmony ;
to show how the same mind ordained the law moral and the
law natural, and made them meet in man ; how thus, from
the consenting voices of nature and inspiration, there rises a
blended haimony of praise, sweet choral music, univocal
through all creation, grander than angelic syraj^honies, more
wondrous than Orphean lyres, ascending ever to Him, who
through Christ created, and in Him redeemed our race. It is
thus we seek to train the minds of our American vouth. We

26 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

climb the heights of knowledge : we teach them how to scale
those smnmits which seemed at first inaccessible : we place
them where they can nourish their strength and clear their
vision, and elevate their minds to a comprehensive range of
thought in the clearer atmosphere of abstract science : we
take them to a point, where, spread out before them, they
can see the realm of literature, with all its States and King-
doms. Thus taught they will never mistake the little spot
on which they may happen to dwell, as the world's center,
nor for lack of compass and chart, fear to sail forth on the
wide ocean in search of continents yet unvisited, of cities yet
unseen. As men who know the outlines and boundaries of
all things which science has yet reached, they can go forth to
explore and perfect their knowledge in any direction, and so
jirepare themselves to contribute most largely to the elevation
of their fellow-men.

But in addition to these objects, our system of mental
education contemplates yet another. It seeks to give to our
young men the jiower to make known most effectively the
science they acquire. It teaches them how to wield that in-
strument of thought which, though dumb, hath a thousand
voices ; which, inanimate and dark, in man's hand, informed
with his intelligence, becomes articulate, all ablaze with light,
speaks in the ear of nations, flames around the thrones of kings,
delights the hearts of children, consoles sorrow in its despond-
ency, peoples solitude with the presence of genius, counsels
in perplexity, gives a living form to thought, an existence im-
mortal to the highest efforts of the intellect, and announces
in tones distinct, in words that never die, the wisdom of the
Infinite breathed into the souls of his chosen prophets. Not
only does it teach men how to wield the pen ; it cultivates
the gift of utterance. It disciplines the tongue. It links to-
gether the emotion, the thought, the word, the articulate
speech. It makes the hand, the eye, the lineaments of the
countenance bring tribute to the voice. It habituates and en-
ables the man to unfold clearly, forcibly, for the insti'uction
of others, all the knowledge, all that resulting conviction and

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 27

thouglit which from a thousand sources, from years of study,
he hath slowly attained. It develops and gives utterance to
that secret inspiration, here and there found as a special gift,
which, whether at the Bar, in the Senate chamber, at the
Hustings, on the Rostrum or the Pulpit, as it trembles on the
tongue, as it sparkles in the eye, as it animates the counte-
nance, as it swells in the voice ; like divine music entrances
the listener and holds the hearts of men in glad thralldom. It
seeks to send forth these minds prepared to impress, to move,
to mold, to enlighten society. It cultivates these gifts of
practical instruction and irnpression, as not only grand instru-
ments of power and usefulness in themselves, but as of espe-
cial use in our country, and in harmony with our institutions.
For we have no large, permanent class of gentlemen of leis-
ure : our laws are hostile to that system, which, by entailing
estates, stereotypes the material elevation of one set of men
above their fellows. We have no hereditary Senate, no order
of men who by virtue of birth occupy the seats of influence in
church or state. Society is in a perpetual process of dissolu-
tion and reconstruction. The statesman of to-day sprang
from nothing, and his son, so far as the constitution of the
State avails, may descend to nothing to-morrow. It is vigor,
intelligence, the power to speak, the power to write, that find
open paths to high places. The pen, the tongue, have here
the grandest field of effort. All men, either in virtue of their
2)rofession, or in virtue of their citizenship, may wield them,
and either rise to power or to that influence which is higher
than ofi&cial station ; that influence which fkshions opinion
and shapes character, and so gives fundamental laws to so-
ciety. This makes iwacticcd men : the mind of large intelli-
gence full of vigor and tact, through the pen and tongue
works immortal results. Its products abide, when the crude
theories and shallow conceits of the half-educated and narrow
intellect, though for a time they may spread wide, have per-
ished from the knowledge of mankind.

It is thus we aim to give in this our college course, at
this stage of education, such an intellectual training as will

28 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

fit our young men to be leaders and guides. We teach them
to think, by canying them through those processes of thought
which disciphne all the various powers of the mind, and
strengthen them for effective and independent action. We
induct them into methods through which science is best at-
tained, and give them that position in respect to the knowl-
edge of its general jirinciples which will qualify them to enter
intelligently upon any of its departments. We teach them
how to communicate what they knoAv ; and prepare them to
write and sjDeak, as men who have a mission of instruction,
of guidance, of influence for good among their fellow-men,

I have reserved the subject of religious education for this
place, not because it is inferior in imj)ortance to that which
is physical and intellectual ; but because, being truly of far
higher interest, it may thus crown the ascending series of
thought, and remain in its full force in your minds. The
question whether religion shall enter as a vital element into
collegiate education, is nothing less than the question whether
during these four years of the most interesting period of his
existence, the young man shall be educated at all for the
highest end of his being ! Our relations to God are primarj^ :
they take precedence of all others : they carry with them all
that is most profound in thought, rich in wisdom, grand or
fearful in destiny.

These earthly relations pass away ; these apparent inter-
ests which now so clamorously beseech our attention, soon
die ; but tliat which relates to G-od and another world, abides
and grows mightier with the decay of things temporal. The
greatest constitutional lawyer of modern times, has well said :
" Political eminence and professional fame fade away and die
wdth all things earthly : nothing of character is really perma-
nent but virtue and personal worth. Tliese remain. What-
ever of excellence is inwrought into the soul itself, belongs to
both worlds. Real goodness does not attach itself merely to
this life ; it points to another world. Political or professional
reputation can not last for ever ; but a conscience void of
offense before God and man is an inheritance for eternity.

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 29

Eeligion is therefore a necessary and indispensable clement in
any human character. There is no living without it. Eeli-
gion is the tie that connects man with his Creator, and holds
him to his throne. If that tie be all sundered, all broken, he
floats away a worthless atom in the universe ; its proper at-
tractions all gone ; its destiny thwarted ; and its whole future
nothing but darkness, desolation and death. A man with no
sense of religious duty, is he whom the Scripture describes in
such terse but terrific language, as living without God in the
world : such a man is out of his proper being ; out of the
circle of all his duties ; out of the circle of all his happiness ;
and away, far, far away from the purposes of his creation !"*
These are eloquent words, and true as eloquent. They com-
mend themselves to every right reason and pure conscience,
as a just estimate of the value of religion. But if such be the
relation of religion to our highest interests, then surely it is
not a thing to be practically lost sight of in the training of
youth. There is not in the whole period of our existence, a
season in which right religious instruction and influence should
be brought to bear upon the intellect and heart with greater
intensity and fullness, than when these young minds are open-
ing to take in the wide range of scientific truth ; when habits
of reflection are forming, and the mind is impelled to question
all that it can not see rests on a stable foundation. At all
times, but more especially now, should religion influence and
mold the whole being. It should be treated, not as an in-
cident to education, or a mere formal, outward law ; but as
that which should pervade and characterize it as the plastic
power, the primary and motive energy of the whole, separated
from which the intellect itself has lost its highest suj^port,
and the soul its noblest possession. How, then, shall we give
to this department of education its true position in our col-
legiate system ? When we have given it this, what will be
its probable influence ?

In meeting the obligation to make religion a vital element

* Webster.

30 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

in our course of study, is it enough for us to assemble the
students for daily worship, or for one or two Sabbath ser-
vices ? No one shall surpass me in a just estimate of the
high value of such services, when made what they should be
in their adaptation to the minds for whom they are designed ;
but I ask, whether these are sufficient to give the youth a
thorough mastery of the great facts of Christianity : whether
these, in point of fact, compel him to work his mind at all
along the line of these facts as he does on all the other sub-
jects of the course. Is it then, in addition to this, sufficient
to teach him natural theology, and make science in its mate-
rial laws the basis on which you can proceed to give him a
more enlarged knowledge of God and redemption ? But in
this there is a twofold fallacy. The first is in taking for
granted the very thing to be taught : in supposing that the
great system of Christianity has been so far mastered, that
you can intelligently advance to show the accord of this sys-
tem with the entire system of truth as it' lies in creation.
The second is in supposing that the Christian religion rests
upon or grows out of mere material science. Christianity is
not natural theology. It harmonizes indeed with reason, but
it is not discoverable, nor in all its facts fully comprehensible
by it. It is confessedly not a new edition of nature, but an
original, independent publication of the divine will. Its ne-
cessity lies in the utter defectiveness of natural theology. Man
by wisdom knows not God. Paley's great argument is of no
more avail to teach Christian truth than that of Socrates :
both, as natural theology, are far below the wants of the soul,
and below that original revelation which was given to meet
these wants. All science that is real and true may be brought
to illustrate this revelation, and reveal the secret harmony
which pervades the works and the Word of God : but the
Word must be thoroughly mastered in its teachings before
you can bring it into this great circle of science, and show,
by comparison, its wisdom to be higher and more vital than
all else.

Is it then sufficient to give brief lectures directly on the

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 31

evidences of Christianity ? These must necessarily be lim-
ited, abstract, and confined to one part of the course. Im-
portant in their place, as satisfying some minds and meeting
some objections ; they are fit rather as a means of gathering
together and systematizing facts already mastered in detail.
Without such previously acquired familiarity with the ele-
ments of Christian truth, their efiect is partial. They can
never form the main element of a course of religious educa-
tion.

In point of fact, how is it that science is most successfully
taught in this stage of education ? Is it not by a direct study
of facts, of laws, of problems ? Why is it not sufficient for
the teacher to lecture on the beauties of Tacitus or vEschylus,
on mental and moral philosophy, on mathematics and chem-
istry ? Because these young minds must first be made inti-
mately acquainted with the language of Tacitus and -3^]schylus,
with the facts on which mental and moral science is based,
and the nature of the truths that constitute mathematical
science, before you can advance with them to a demonstration
of that which is pure science. The lecturer on chemistry,
and geology, and botany, takes the facts first, and familiar-
izes the mind with them by a series of actual experi-
ments ; and then there is a foundation on which to build
up a regular system of organic law. Now this method
of education, which must be pursued whenever thorough
scientific education is effected, is just that which ought to
be pursued in the department of Christian science. Instead
of leaving the Bible, the grand embodiment of all the facts
of the Christian system, on the shelf for four long years,
during the most fruitful period of life, at the very time
when the principles and facts that bear the finest fruit in
our after career, take root, we must take it down : we must
make it the book which our youth shall study : study from
Genesis to Revelation : study in its history, its laws, its
prophecy, its poetry, its philosophy, its theology, its Chris-
tology. We teach science by a thorough examination of
those works which constitute its clearest exposition ; we

32 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

take tlie finest classic writers to teach language, the ablest
mathematical works to teach mathematics ; we gather up
the most striking facts of natural science wherewith to ex-
periment : we analyze the works of the ahlest reasoners to
obtain a mastery of logic, and of the most eloquent orators to
enter into the science of rhetoric ; and when God has given
us the finest product of his wisdom, pregnant with the grand-
est forms of thought, rich in the most remarkable history, full
of those facts which running through more than 4,000 years,
culminate at last in the most wonderful creation of humanity,
in the most amazing exhibition of divinity, and the full de-
velopment of a system of truth vital to the redemption of the
soul ; shall we, having charge of youth in the very years
when they are most impressible, shall we not induct them
thoroughly into these thoughts, these facts, this grand sys-
tem ? Shall we deem our duty done when we have read a
daily chapter, and preached a weekly sermon, and lectured a
few times on some of the evidences of its inspiration ? Shall
we be wiser for time than we are for eternity, and train up
youth richer in pagan than in Christian lore ? The Bible is
the heart, the sun of a truly Christian education ; and how
shall we educate men as Christians, how shall w^e ground
them effectually in that which constitutes Christianity, unless
we do for them what Cicero would have done for educated
Roman youth, in respect to the twelve tables — make it the
carmen necessarium of an educated American ? If he could
say that the " twelve tables were v»^orth more than all the
libraries of the philosopher," and therefore should be studied
more constantly and profoundly ; may we not, with equal
truth, affirm that the Bible is worth more than all philoso-
phy, all natural science, all other forms of thought ; and
therefore it should be of all books the most profoundly stud-
ied, the most constantly present through the whole process of
education ? We would place the Bible in the hands of the
youth, when first with a trembling heart and heightened ex-
pectation he enters these Halls. We would make it his study,
his companion from week to week, as his mind opens and his

COLLEG-ATE EDUCATION. 33

powers of reflection expand. We would have this liglit shed
its steady, serene brightness all along his ascending way, until
he went forth alone into the stern conflict of life. We would
have no compromise with infidelity or skepticism on this sul)-
ject ; we are Christian educators : we prize Grod's word above
all earthly science. There is our banner : we fling it to the
breeze ! If you send your son hither, we shall do all that in
us lies to teach him what this book contains, and to make its
truths eflfective in the control of his life. We shall not Si])o\-
ogize for Christianity, nor treat it as a handmaid to natural
science ; but as the queen-regent over all our studies, our
lives ; our richest possession in time, our only hope for
eternity.

On the method of teaching, and securing the thorough
study of this book, permit me to add two remarks : first, the
Bible is not to be taught from the stand point of mere liter-
ature. It is not as a human inspiration, but as a divine reve-
lation, it occupies this chief seat in an institution of learning.
I will not degrade it from this position, by studying it as if
it were the songs of Homer, or the De Corona of Demos-
thenes, or the history of Thucydides. It is not because it
has the oldest history, the sublimest poetry, the most touch-
ing stories, the most compact reasoning, the richest figures
of rhetoj'ic, that it is worthy to be the vade-mecum of our
youth ; it is as a divine revelation^ thrilling through all its
nervous words with the inspiration of Jehovah, opening to
man the will of his Maker in its unmistakable purity, minis-
tering to the wants of a soul diseased, and an intellect be-
nighted, swelling in a broad tide with divine compassion, and
designed to lift men from the troublous depths of earthly pol-
lution, sorrow, and death-darkness, into the purity, the joy,
and the light of a new life in Christ Jesus ; — as a revelation
it claims the student's daily attention and challenges his pro-
foundest thought. From this stand point of an assured di-
vine revelation respecting our duties and our hopes, I would
teach the Bible. I will not leave out its grand distinction.
We do not begin to study natural science from the stand

3

34 • EDUCATIONAL D.SCOURSES.

point of Atheism ; we do not ask the student to divest him-
self of all belief in the being of God, and go down into the
blank, dark regions of chance, when he enters upon the inves-
tigation of the works of creation ; we assume that there is a
God : that there is a Providence : that there is order and
wisdom of divine original all about us : that man has a true
history, and that God is his Father. So in teaching Chris-
tianity, Ave mean to start with its truth as a fact ; and then
as we study the revelation which ccmtains it, we will show
how, being true, it harmonizes with all we know or can know
of nature, so far as it is not infinitely above it : we show in
tracing out the facts of the record, its origin, its cause, the
grand idea and method according to which its divine Author
wrought it out. Thus we are prepared to vindicate in the
fullest manner its inspiration, and illustrate and enforce its
trutli as the highest will of God, full of light, of love, of
peace, of hojje, of all the elements vital to form the noblest
character and fit it for the skies. So much for our method.

Then I would secure the constant study of the Bible, by
making jjroficicncy in the knowledge of it enter into the final
estimate of the character and standing of the scholar. In this
respect, it should occupy the same position in the college cur-
riculum as any other study. Instead of being left to the ca-
price of the student, to be engaged in or not as he may choose,
it should be enforced precisely as is the study of the classics
or mathematics. If each recitation enters into and consti-
tutes the standing of the scholar ; so would I have the reci-
tation on this book and the attainments made in this nobler
study, go towards determining the sum total of his entire
acquisitions. If to this it be objected that religion is an affair
of the heart — a voluntary matter ; I answer, that if religion
belongs to the heart, its great vital truths belong to the head,
and are to be investigated by the same intellectual processes
we employ in any other science. If attention to it is volun-
tary, so is all education voluntary ; you can not comj)el men,
young or old, to think : but you can place the young in such
circumstances, and surround them with such influences as

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 35

will contribute poAverfully to awaken thought in any desirable
direction. The very object of a college is to create those in-
fluences and combine them with the happiest effect ; and
just as they are wielded to secure the education of the youth
in other directions, so would I bring them all to bear with
equal force and effect upon his education in the truths that
relate to the highest interests of his soul.

The influence of this study will at once vindicate the
position assigned to it in the system of collegiate education.
Its direct effect upon the intellect, in invigorating all its pow-
ers, although in reality least ; yet is that which may com-
mend it to some as of chief importance. The mind at once
enters upon the discussion of truths, which to their intrinsic
grandeur and vastness, add relations most vital to the destiny
(\i the soul. " God alone is great." The questions which
concern his being; character, and will, at once carry the
thoughts beyond the visible and temporal. Here the greatest
men have exercised themselves. Turning from the superficial
that attaches to things limited and seen, they have sought to
penetrate the invisible, to solve the problem connected with
our relations to the infinite. Soon or late, all true thinkers
pass from the transient scenes of our earthly life, and seek to
explore that vast profound which lies around the soul, and
pulsates with the presence of God. And in thus studying the
great Revelation, the young mind enters into the fullest man-
ifestation of divine wisdom : it grapples with those questions,
it is penetrated with those thoughts which lift it into a purer
atmosphere. Unlike the ancient wrestler, whose strength lay
in his contact with the earth, he grows stronger, his intellect
becomes more acute, his views more comprehensive and pro-
found, as he is lifted above the earth, as he grapples with
that which is divine. His imagination is elevated, refined,
impressed by that amazing variety of imagery, now awful
and sublime as when the prophet unveils the Infinite sitting
on the circle of the heavens : now all sparkling with beauty
and radiant with a divine effluence, as the things of earth are
taken up and clothed in the language of heaven. His mem-

36 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

ory gathers into itself scenes, events and sentiments that serve
hereafter to ilhistrate all forms of thought, and all degrees of
science. His reason, while its powers of deduction and ah-
straction and logical thought, are strengthened by the effort
to discover and put together in their harmony, the parts of
the great system of Kedemption, finds its capacity of intui-
tive apprehension quickened and expanded, in dwelling upon
the profound attributes and sublime ideas evolved in his grow-
ing acquaintance with God in his word. And so the intellect
feels in all its powers the vital touch of the divine mind. It
quickens, it exalts, it gives strength to weakness, vigor to
torpidity, profundity to shallowness, breadth to the narrow,
refinement to the rude, and greatness to the entire outgoings
of the mind. The most wonderful of histories, the grandest
exhibitions of mental effort, the sublimest scenes of time, are
all gathered together in this book ; and through them all
runs the divine intelligence. What are the discoveries of in-
vention, the evolutions and marchings of secular history, the
triumphs of humanity in all its earthly greatness, compared
with that Word which discloses the process of creation, the
origin of language, the fall of man, the unfolding of the
truths of religion advancing to their ripe fruit in the person
of Jesus Christ ! Steam may develop a material civilization ;
electricity may be subsidized as the minister of thought ;
natural science may detect the laws which rule among the
forms of matter ; but this book calls the student to study
God and the soul in their grandest relations ; and elevates
him to the contemplation of a wisdom that will live and give
life, when the earth itself has passed away.

Nor is this its whole influence upon the intellect. It
places the student in a position, where he is better prepared
to see and fairly judge of the harmony of the entire circle of
science. The Bible is the complement of natural and the
heart of moral science. No man can approximate to the
completeness of general scholarship, without having studied
profoundly its great system of truth. This system stands
intimately related to all science : it furnishes the key which

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION, 37

unlocks much of the mystery that belongs to nature. The
mere natural explorer is baffled and confounded whenever he
attempts to rise into the higher generalizations of known
truth : the study of final causes is full of darkness, till the
light from the throne is shed upon them. " In thy light
shall we see light." We may invert and apply broadly to a
just comprehension of the whole range of the teachings of
nature, what Cicero says of his Orator : Omnia prqfecto,
cum se a ccelestihus rebus referret ad Jmmanas, excelshis.
magificentiusque et dtcet et sentiet. It is in the light of the
celestial, we shall see more justly the terrestrial. The states-
man will have a juster understanding of government, the his-
torian a more comprehensive view of the progress of the
world, the physician a more thorough insight into that phy-
sical form he seeks to heal, the naturalist a completer con-
ception of those forces that pervade all being, and all edu-
cated minds a more satisfactory understanding of the relations
of the whole system of truth ; just so far as to their special
attainments in other directions, they shall unite this pro-
founder knowledge of Revealed Truth. The men who make
our laws and interpret them, will rise to a conception of law
broad as humanity. They will understand what was long
since uttered : Non erit alia lex Bomce, alia Athenis, alia
nunc, alia post hac, sed et oinnes gentes, et omni tempo7'e, una
lex, sempitei'na, et imrnortalis continehit. That one law,
those all-embracing principles, that higher system into which
all others ascend, and find their place, in connections subor-
dinate and subsidiary, was revealed in Eden, repromulgated
on Sinai, perfected on Calvary, illustrated, defined and en-
forced in that book which holy men wrote as they were moved
by the Holy Ghost. Here Bacon had revealed that pure
light — the true lumen siccum, through which he saw the path
of science ascending to the throne. Here Milton bathed his
wings, and, though sightless, filled with a" divine efiluence, of
all mortal singers, soared nearest the sun. Here Newton
came : this Word Divine gave symmetry to his matchless
intellect, a higher power of generalization to his matchless

38 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

reason, a wider, clearer vision of the whole great system of
universal truth. And no man should call himself an Ameri-
can scholar, who like them has not obtained the key tiiat
opens the portal of this s])iritual temple.

Another result of this method is the solid basis which it
lays for an intelligent faith in the Bible as a divine revela-
tion. Ignorance is the great enemy of the Christian faith.
To send forth into the world a young man, thoroughly at
home in material and secular knowledge, but imperfectly
grounded in that which is of vaster importance and pro-
founder influence upon himself and society, is frequently to
do both him and Christianity an incalculable injury.

He enters upon active life, often in circumstances unpro-
pitious to the cultivation of faith in the divine word. Phi-
losophies seemingly profound, specious and attractive, chal-
lenge his attention : that which seemed venerable and sacred
in his eyes, is questioned, opposed, ridiculed : his half-formed
arguments, his hereditary logic can not stand before the keen
cimeters of these sons of the false pro^jhet. If at length
skepticism does not win the day, yet douht enters : the solid
earth becomes the unquiet sea : he clings to the truth rather
as an alternative the most stable, where all is restless and
shifting : the grand forms of truth hold him rather than the
truth itself. Often these fail : his anchor is torn up : he
floats away from all that is true, sacred and divine. But now
let us take him while yet life is fresh within him ; while prin-
ciples are ro-oting themselves in his convictions, there to spring
up and become germinant powers in after life ; let us take
him into and around this temple which is to serve for a refuge,
a joy, a habitation to the soul for ever ; let us go with him
quietly, slowly, frequently, so as to give time to his expand-
ing intellect to question every part, and take in the full real-
ity as it rises before him ; let us descend to the deep and
broad foundations and explain to him how and why these
massive stones were made thus to underlie the flibric ; let us
measure them with line and plummet and test their sound-
ness with the hardest logic ; let us ascend and examine these

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 39

vast pillars, and cxjilain their stability, their proportion, their
utility ; let us examine point by point each wall and arch, each
pediment and capital ; let us finally scan with closest scrutiny
the mighty dome upheaved on these strong pillars, through
which the clear, calm, quickening light direct from the celes-
tial throne pours in upon the soul its radiance ; let us do all
this ; and then we shall have done something worthy of the
name, to educate him in the faith of a Christian. With such
a discipline, it will be almost as difficult to dislodge the con-
viction of the truth of Revelation from his intellect, as it
would to persuade him, after he has stood beneath the shadow
of St. Peter's, that this grandest monument of the genius of
Angelo was a sham. Let him then, when his mind is all awake
to the true, the just, the beautifnl, study out tliis system of
divine truth in its vast proportions, and you will have given
him an inheritance richer than all the stores of human learn-
ing, more precious and abiding than all material benedictions.
But besides all this, we need this divine word as the most
effective influence for direct moral and religious culture. In-
tellectual convictions are indeed of incalculable importance ;
but unless these convictions have entered the heart, so as to
become principles of action, education has not accomplished
its greatest work. The higher nature of man lies deepest in
the soul. From the secret depths where thought becomes
emotion and conviction principle, the influences arise that
constitute character. This is the richest field of culture :
this demands the profoundest wisdom, the most patient effort,
on the part of the instructor. It is with respect to this, more
than all other departments of his work he feels his weakness.
He may form the intellect, but how shall he reach, control,
and give a noble character to the secret impulses and pur-
poses ? How shall he get access to that heart, chasten its
affections, discipline its eager desires, subdue its wild passions,
waken it to high and holy aspirations ? It is here he feels
the need of that which is divine : here he must call to his aid
influences profound as the nature, and mightier than the pas-
sions of the soul.

40 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

There is a period in life when the youth comes forth from
the control of the parent : when the power of his awakening
manhood impels him to independent action : when he ques-
tions the old authority and law becomes the synonym of
tyranny. This is the period of danger ; it is also the period
of hope. It is the period of danger ; for now passion is strong,
while the sense of responsibility is weak. The youth is ani-
mate with the joy of independence : he feels the powers of
life strong within : he is specially open to temptation. Los-
ing the deep respect for human authority, which once pos-
sessed and controlled him, he has not yet attained that rev-
erential regard for a higher authority which constitutes the
moulding principle of a noble and pure character. He enters
college. It may be that an earthly ambition seizing hold of
him, checks and subdues the baser passions. He assembles
around him in his study the shades of the mighty dead : their
name, their fame, then- glory dazzle and entrance. He looks
out on human life. The prizes of this world attract his eye :
the statesman, the orator, the man successful in winning sta-
tion or wealth, power or fame, loom uj? aloft in light : he
hears the voices of the multitude : their loud acclaim, their
shouts of victory are borne to him on every breeze. His pur-
pose is taken. His whole soul yields itself to the mighty im-
pulse. He too will be great : he too will ascend these heights,
and drink in the intoxicating breath of glory. Or it may be,
these things seem distant, unapjiroachable. Then the baser
passions rise to power : he yields himself to the joy of a pres-
ent pleasm'e. Perchance, he takes the intoxicating cup ;
perchance descends to brutal indulgence ; and in the early
prime of life, he shatters immortal j)Owers and darkens the
bright promise of the future. This is the danger.

Yet this is also the period of hope ; for even now there
may be inwrought into his heart the principle of a better life.
Into this young soul there may be cast seed that shall spring
up in beauty, and ripen into the fruit of a noble character,
whose words and deeds shall be full of power, mighty to bless.
On us, as instructors, rests the responsibility of guiding this

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 41

young life ; and just here it is we feel strong, only as we ally
to ourselves a power divine. We seek to wield the influence
of all others the most mighty. His mind, in this the awaken-
ing of its reflective powers and its sense of independence,
must be brought face to face with the eternal God. Nothing
but religion, first in its teachings, then in its attendant divine
spirit, can give success. " There is," says Coleridge, " but
one principle which alone reconciles the man with himself,
with others and with the world ; which regulates all rela-
tions, tempers all passions, gives power to overcome or sup-
port all suffering, and which is not to be shaken by aught
earthly, for it belongs not to the earth ; namely, the principle
of religion, the living and substantial faith ivMcli passeth all
understanding, as the cloud-piercing rock which overhangs
the stronghold of which it had been the quarry, and remains
the foundation. This elevation of the spirit above the sem-
blances of custom and the senses, to a world of spirit, this
life in the idea, even in the supreme and Godlike, which alone
merits the name of life, and without which our organic life is
but a state of somnambulism : this it is which affords the
soul sure anchorage in the storm, and at the same time the
substantiating principle of all true wisdom, the satisfactory
solution of all the contradictions of human nature, of the
whole riddle of the world." This is the princii)le we seek to
implant : this is the feeling we aim to awaken. In doing
this, we take this method of study, the constant use of God's
word, as the most impressive power ordained of Him who
gave it to us for this purpose. In thus seeking to bring it
home to the mind and hearts of our youth as a means of moral
and religious culture, we can seek intelligently and in faith
for assistance from above, through which alone the heart can
be renovated, and the whole soul consecrated to its highest
end, and made meet for its noblest destiny.

An education like this, comprising in itself the broadest
discipline of the intellect and the finest culture of the heart,
must issue in the grandest results. It allies to it all powers
of influence, divine and human, that are most pure and ele-

42

EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

vating. It will quicken the conscience, purify the passions,
implant right principles of action, if any course can do it. It
will create a manly, earnest, and refined cliaracter. It will
give to an educated mind an infallible test of truth, and clothe
its demonstrations with an ennobling power.

Our public men will feel its elevating influence, aiding
them to lead on in all things just and pure. It will impart
to that mighty agency, the Press, and to our national litera-
ture, a higher power, a more earnest tone. It will constitute
the strongest bulwark of liberty : the best safeguard of our
free institutions. Giving to our colleges a heart that beats
with an ennobling life ; it will consecrate their influence to
religion and the finest culture of the intellect.

Such are the views of Collegiate Education which, on this
occasion of deepest interest to the friends of this institution, I
have felt it my duty to express. They are not the views of a
sect ; they are broad as Christianity itself. I rejoice to know
they are all in harmony with the sentiments of those of you
who have the control and conduct of its affairs. You would
not take from the young mind its only safe, its only infallible
guide through this dark world ; you would give to it a higher
position rather. You would make this institution not only
the brightest light of the intellect, but of the heart. Nay ;
turning from the living, from you,* sir, whose heart beats re-
sponsive to these sentiments, you who for more than a quarter
of a century have given to this college the entire influence of
an accurate, a refined, a Christian scholarship, and now have
added the dignity of your presence on this festival occasion ;
turning from these instructors whose thoughts on this great
theme I know are all in accord with my own ; — from the living
here, I look upward to the living there : to him, the Missionary
of Jesus, who here, out in the wilderness., on the frontiers of
civilization, laid the broad foundations of this institution, laid
them on the rock of Calvary : to those who for so many yeara
presided over it, and have now passed away. Could they
speak, could spirits departed, with all the intelligence they

* Referrinjr to Ex-President North.

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 43

have now attained, tell us what they think of Christian edu-
cation ; can we doubt what would be their testimony ?

And now, my friends, let us not separate on this occasion
without the resolution that we will seek to perpetuate these
higher institutions of Christian education,' to augment their
resources and give them greater power to bless our country.
Colleges, like many other things, have their laws of growth,
their periods of expansion and progress. Intimately connected
with the highest civilization of a people, they measure their
progress in art, in science, in national wealth. Where the
forests still hold their ancient reign almost unbroken, it is fit
the school-house should rise beside the log cabin. As these
forests disappear and cultivated farms delight the eye, the
academy crowns the hill-toiD and speaks a fuller, broader edu-
cation. As material wealth advances, at length the college
with its solid structure opens its doors, and proclaims an ad-
vancing culture. This State has fully outgrown the limits of
pioneer life. It has advanced from the state of dependence
and weakness, to the seat of empire. On every side cities,
towns, villages, all the signs of an advancing national civiliza-
tion, of an industrious, a thriving, an enterprising population,
crowd the landscape. The State wielding the scepter of em-
pire should have institutions of learning corresponding with
her greatness : these constitute the most unmistakable signs
of the intelligence and foresight of her people " Literature
becomes free institutions. It is the graceful ornament of
civil liberty and a happy restraint on the asperities which
political controversy sometimes occasions. Just taste is not
only an embellishment of society, but it rises almost to the
rank of the virtues, and diifuses positive good throughout the
whole extent of its influence. There is a connection between
right feeling and right principles ; and truth in taste is allied
to truth in morality. With nothing in our past history to
discourage us, and with something in our present condition
and prospects to animate us ; let us hope that as it is our
fortune to live in an age when we may behold a wonderful
advancement of this countrv in all its oth'^rin-^-'^v.'^.^^-c w^ »«':.■<.•

44 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

see also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters."
Thus spake the statesman standing on Plymouth Rock. 1
echo these words in your hearing to-day : nay, I ascend to a
still higher position. These Christian institutions are not
only tributary to the diffusion of a con-ect literature ; they
are equally essential to the advance of religion and the high-
est civilization. They go down in their influence through all
society. They build up the common school : they rear the
academy : they aid the press : they cultivate art : they refine
the rude : they multiply sources of wealth : they qualify men
for positions of trust and influence : they stand among the
foremost guardians of the liberties of the State, and imj)art to
her the luster of high intelligence. They minister at the bed-
side of the sick ; plead in the forum of justice ; utter their
judgments on the bench ; frame law in the halls of State ;
proclaim the gosjiel in the pulpit ; and send forth their words
of light and truth to delight, ennoble, and mould the minds of
the millions of our stirring jwpulation. They give us influ-
ence and renown abroad. They rule on the sea and on the
land ; and wherever the attribute of intelligence, joined with
just principles is mighty, there their works are seen, their in-
fluence felt. Shall such institutions as these fail of the ap-
l^reciation and support of a noble people ? Shall a State like
this be a pensioner on others for that higher education wdiich
she seeks for her children ? Will not her men of wealth covet
for themselves the honor of building higher the walls of these
institutions ? Will not her men of far-seeing intelligence
lend them all the influence of their wisdom .^ Will not the
sons of the State gather round their own homes the power
and the glory of these nobler possessions .^ Will not the
statesmen who understand the true foundations of govern-
ment, the ministers who are awake to the spread of an intelli-
gent religious faith, and all who love the best interests of
man, come round these institutions of Christian education ;
resolved to advance them to that position of prosperity and
influence, which corresponds with the greatness of our hopes
for the onward progress of this people, in all that can adorn,

COLLEGIATE EDUCATION. 45

exalt, and bless ? Then shall this institution, founded in
prayer, enriched by the labors of men now ascended to their
reward, already through its thousand Alumni, shedding bene-
dictions on every part of our common country, attain a still
liigher position of influence, and send forth a wider stream of
light. Let us, fellow-laborers in the cause of letters and
Christian science, fellow-citizens of this great State and of
this our glorious country, and you, young men, the whole-
hearted and the true, who have gone forth from these Halls ;
let us retire hence, resolved by all just means to make the
bright promise of the present a grand reality in the future,
saying as we go : " Peace be within thy walls and prosperity
within thy palaces. For my brethren and companions' sake,
I will now say. Peace be within thee. Because of the house
of the Lord our God, I will seek thy good."

II.

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING.*

Young Gentlemen :

In addressing you this evening, it has been intimated to
me, that I need not limit my remarks to the subject of rhet-
oric, the cultivation of which constitutes the chief object of
this society. After an experience of twenty years in the
ministry, I have felt desirous, on this occasion, of stating to
you some of the general principles which should enter into
and characterize the specific culture of a minister of Christ,
in contradistinction to that wliich belongs to the other pro-
fessions. In doing this I may aid you in your jjreparation
for your work of preaching, just as much as if that work were
alone before us. Cicero makes his orator a man of large
knowledge. He extends his views to a wide range of sub-
jects, in order to qualify him for the specific rank of a civil
pleader. He makes a broad experience and extended cul-
ture in various directions, a discipline for the work of speak-
ing with success. And thus in the ministry, I would lay the
foundations for a successful presentation of the truth back in
the thorough mastery of all the knowledge and experience
whi(;h enter into the formation of an elevated ministerial char-
acter. The construction of sentences, the modulation of the
voice, which constitute so large a portion of rhetoric as com-
monly received, important as they may be, yet hold a subor-
dinate position among the varied qualifications of an able
l^reacher. Sacred rhetoric, in its profoundest spirit and genius,
rises far above the artificial form often given to it in populai

■" Address before the Rhetorical Society of the Auburn Seminary, May 2d,
1859.

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 47

treatises. It is not a mask which a man puts on when he
enters the pulpit, to hide his own poverty of thought. The
minister is not a stage-actor, strutting in royal robes this
hour, the next a coarse, vulgar, ignorant nature. In him
rhetoric should be the expression of his own mental habitudes,
the unvailing of his own richly stored intellect and heart, the
resultant of all the protracted discipline of his life revealing
itself in speech adapted to inform, arouse, and guide the
minds of men. The knowledge gathered from a thousand
sources ; the mental processes by which his intellect has been
trained to discriminate, combine, create ; the experience
through which divine truth has gone into, and become a vital
element of his spiritual life ; the struggles, the defeats, the vic-
tories in which faith and sight, spirit and sense the supernat-
ural and the natural have involved him, all these, converging
together, should come forth harmoniously blended and inter-
woven in that grandest work, the preaching of the gospel-
This priestly and regal robe he should wear as the expression
of a regal and priestly character. It belongs not to the jduI-
pit alone. It is the living, daily aspect and power of such a
mind, informed with such intelligence, consecrated to such
a work. The utterances of the pulpit should be the utter-
ances of the fireside expanded and intensified to meet the
same varied wants of the larger audience. A man's preaching
in its thought, emotion, expression, should bear the stamp of
his own nature, his own ex^^erience. It should be something
which no other man could put on without doing violence to
truth ; it should be something not borrowed, not assumed,
but the outgrowth of his own spirit under all the various in-
fiuences of education and divine discipline. Every man is
necessarily one-sided, imperfect. All things that go from him
are colored, just so far as tiiey are his, by the peculiarity of
his own nature and experience. Truth in its essence may be
one ; but truth in experience and life, truth therefore as the
expression of that experience and life is various as the forms
of vegetable existence, various as the clouds and stars of the
firmament. The gospel is one ; yet is it revealed to us not in

48

EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES,

absolute formulas of faith, so much as in the parti-colored
lines of the individual writers. Paul and John and Peter and
James embraced it ; yet what a delightful variety, as of the
same landscape seen from different positions and under dif-
ferent light and shade, does their expression of it, their rhe-
torical exhibition of it reveal ? They proclaimed it as they
felt it ; as it had wrought itself into their life, through their
separate, their peculiar experience, and in harmony with their
own strongly-marked and contrasted natures. Thus should
it be with our rhetoric. It should be the expression of
our knowledge in the form given to it by our natural consti-
tution, experience and discipline. Neither in this, nor in
any thing else of tliis high import, should we call any man
" master."

In asking your attention therefore to some remarks on the
course of preparation specially adapted to the ministiy, you
will recognize, I trust, a purpose to contribute what is in my
power to assist you in becoming successful preachers of the
word.

It is not my purpose to discuss here the character of that
general discipline which should precede the special training
of the professions. That mathematical and classical culture
which belongs to the college, is presupposed. We take it for
granted that, in entering upon the special studies connected
with the ministry, the student has attained that mental power
which a collegiate course is adapted to impart. In connection
with this, however, you will permit me to make a single sug-
gestion. Scarcely any thing is better fitted to give accuracy
and finish to scholarship than the careful review of our early
course of study. To secure this end it is not necessary we
should go over all the parts of our academical curriculum.
Take a single oration of Demosthenes, and another of Cicero ;
take one or two of the dialogues of Plato and the treatise De
Offlciis, and spend a few hours each week on them in suc-
cession, so that they may occupy you for months and even
years ; read in connection with them the history of the times
in which they were written and the contemporary philosophy

THEOLOGICAL TEAINIIiG. 49

out of wliicli they grew ; let Newton's Principia and Bacon's
Novum Organuni lie on your table ; resort to the first for the
purpose of cultivating concentration of thought, and to the
second as an assistant in obtaining the natural method of
philosophising ; and you will find that with little cost of time
and labor, you will be able to keep your classical knowledge
frcish, while your power of discrimination and vigor of
thought will be maintained amidst the dissipating cares and
miscellaneous work of a minister of Christ.

Now with all this understood, the question for us to set-
tle is. What is that peculiar education which belongs to the
ministry in distinction from the other professions ? And
hence, I take it, the j)osition which the minister is to occupy
settles at once the character of his education. He is to be
trained for this position, this sphere of life, and not for an-
other, however noble and excellent that other may be. What,
then, is the fundamental idea which underlies the whole of a
minister's life ; which sets him off from all other men ; which
gives him a peculiar character, a peculiar link, and a peculiar
jjlace in the whole economy of society .^ Briefly this — the
spiritual in contrast tvith the natural ; the eternal in con-
trast ivith tlic temporal. I do not mean that his position has
no relations to the natural and the temporal. Far from it ;
these relations are large and vastly influential. But these are
not the things which constitute the essential elements of his
position, or the grand forces with which he is to deal. The
physician deals directly with natural laws ; the lawyer with
temporal relations. These are the chief characteristics of their
position ; these define their work in society. But the minister
has to do directly with things spiritual, and his power comes
mainly from ideas and influences that are connected with
spiritual existence extending its reign into the eternal and the
infinite. First of all he has to do with a science which relates
primaiily to the spiritual rather than the sensible. It is the-
ology, not anthropology, nor geology. It is the science of that
spiritual existence which man apprehends only by fiiith ; it
is the knowledge of this infinite in his relations to the finite.

4

50 EDUCATIONAL DISCO UKSES.

And so, on the other hand, it is the science of the immortal
and the religious nature of man as related to this divine
Creator, rather than the knowledge of that part of him which
is perishable in his nature and temporary in his relations.
This I say is the original, the characteristic feature of the
minister of the gospel. Hence the material with which he
has to work, the primary source of his intelligence, is spirit-
ual. It is abstract truth ; truth written, in contrast to
truth in creation. It is truth deoTTvevar — God-breatlied — and
therefore spiritual. It is not the book of nature, however
full and glorious may be its impress. It is the book of j^ure
thought, addressed to the eyes of the spirit, speaking to the
conscience and the reason alone, uttering truths which nature
never uttered, or man's reason from nature never attained.
Its central sun, its grandest revelation — Jesus Christ and
him crucified — is not an orb that flames in the natural crea-
tion, an orb that the telescope can reveal. The whole sys-
tem which rests on him as its corner, which grows out of him
as its root, which is crowned by him as its chief glory, which
by figures various and multiplied is identified with him as its
center and circumference, is wdiolly outside of creation, far,
far above all merely human inventions and all earthly science.
What medical diagnosis ever resolved man's real state in
God's universe ? or what natural science ever demonstrated
the laws of the spirit ? what code of jurisprudence ever recog-
nized and unfolded the grand idea of divine mercy ? wdiat
human philosophy ever advanced one step beyond the vesti-
bule of man's relations to the infinite ? This is the region of
spiritual ideas, breathed into man by the infinite Sjurit, re-
corded in words that address themselves directly and alone to
the human spirit. And these constitute the chief elements
of that science which the minister is to unfold.

Nay, more. The church which he is to cherish, to edu-
cate, and, as God's instrument, create and perpetuate, is not a
creation of natural laws ; its distinctive character is spiritual ;
it is a palingenesia, a new birth — a new creation, born from
above, in its origin directly divine, in its continuance deriving

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 51

all its vitality from a force which is above nature, and in its
end rising to a pure, spiritual existence. Conscience and the
heart are made subject to an invisible rule ; the reason is here
illuminated by a divine, supernatural light ; the life con-
trolled and disciplined by a divine effluence, such as creation
never knew, and eld never put forth — while the whole of this
work of preparation in the Church itself takes hold of eternity,
ascends to the throne of G-od, brings forth that living, holy
creation which, as the bride, the Saviour's wife, is to shine
for ever at the right hand, and on the bosom of Jesus Christ.

And finally, the effective power, the secret and life-giving
energy wdiich makes this man's ministry an eternal success,
a glory above the stars and the angels, is wholly sjiiritual. It
is not a nice adjustment of means to ends ; it is not the force
of natural eloquence, nor the power of direct impression
springing from a cultivated intellect, well-modulated voice,
nor the most skillful unfolding and reiteration of truth, how-
ever noble, that gives him success. His true children are born
of the Spirit ; his whole vitality and efficiency as the conse-
crated preacher of the gospel is the gift of the Holy Ghost.
This presides over his studies, this flashes light along the
heaven-sent message, this makes his W'Ords thrill through
the conscience, and wakes up responsive affections in the
dead heart. This, and this alone, clothes him with power,
and, in connection with his labors, makes the Sahara of na-
ture blossom like Sharon, and so prepares him to shine like
the stars in the brighter firmament of the heavenly world for
ever.

But while the position of the minister is thus chiefly
characterized by its relation to the spiritual and eternal, yet
is it not limited to these relations. It is central, at the heart
of society, acting influentially upon all its vital powers. It
touches thus two worlds. It underlies all other influences,
controls or modifies them, reduces them into harmony. Just
as conscience and the higher nature of man must be supreme
over all human as well as divine relations, in order to bring
the passions into subjection and liberate the will in its out-

52 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

goings from their despotic sway, so the position of Christ's
minister will necessarily affect the earthy as well as the divine,
the moral as well as the religious in all society. Just as con-
science is related to man, so the work of the minister is related
to all h^^man interests. It touches directly or indirectly all
parts of life, all enterprises of time. Thrift, business, health,
peacefulness, intelligence, art, liberty, come within the circle
of its beneficent influence. Its grand characteristic is indeed
that it deals directly with our relations to God, and mth those
to man only as subordinate. But, in doing this, it brings the
supernatural down to the natural ; it lifts the material up to
the sj)iritual, and so moves upon man in his whole being as
on one side related to God and immortal, and on the other
related to the earth and perishable. Such is the position of
an ambassador of Christ. Now the knowledge of this posi-
tion is the key that unlocks the whole system of training
peculiar to the ministry. This training must bear directly
upon those attainments which fit him to occupy so exalted a
position. It is not the lawyer, the engineer, the physician,
the merchant, the artist, the literary or moral reform lec-
turer, that is to stand on this eminence. It is a character of
another stamp ; a mind and heart educated by a process dif-
ferent from those which give them a special aptitude for their
work. Hero all the lines of education should converge to the
point of augmenting his power as a spiritual agency designed
to mold' hearts and consciences for the life of God. Every
thing should be made subordinate and subsidiary to this end.
I say this preacher of the gospel must be educated to preach.
The days of miracles are past. Divine influence consecrates
and cooperates with human powers. It blesses the patient
kibo7rr; it exalts the processes of thought; it seconds mental
discipline ; it uses weapons shaped and sharpened in the forge
of consecrated science. It has no sympathy with ignorance,
stupidity, shallowness, and while it can give Samson strength
to slay his thousands with the jaw-bone of an ass, as a special
vindication of its sovereignty, yet he who should now go to
war with such a weapon, would both betray his ignorance of

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 53

the usual metliod of the divine operation, and inevitably se-
cure his own defeat.

In respect to this position, it is obvious tliat its first de-
partment of education is subjective culture, that mainly of
the heart. This man who is to preach, must ground his
preaching largely on his ow^n knowledge of his own nature and
wants. He is part and parcel of the race. He not only par-
takes of human nature, but of a fallen nature — the nature
Christ came to purify and save. He who is to minister to
others is himself compassed about with their infirmities. His
preaching, so far as it is effective, will take its color and form
from his knowledge of man's nature and the adaptation of the
gospel to this nature. Without experience he will talk as blind
men talk of colors, as deaf men talk of nmsic. Now in this
jjroccss of education there are three things to be secured.
First, the knowledge of human nature — of that nature in all
its actual weakness and capacity for greatness — in all its incon-
sistencies, excesses, disorders, depravity. He must know it in
its sublime capacities made subject to and nullified by earthly
tendencies. He must know it in its native, stubborn aliena-
tion from Grod, and in its conscience half blinded by sin. And
to gain this knowledge of the disease to which he is to apply
the remedy, he must study his own heart ; introverting his
thought, he must learn to see himself as heart, will, intellect,
work themselves out, mutually influential on the various cir-
cumstances of life. Into this world so profound, so strange ;
into this sea so calm, so tempestuous, so turbid, so seemingly
pure, so amazingly deceptive and deceitful, he must learn to
cast his lead, and understand its currents, and analyze its na-
ture, and trace out the influences which most aifect it. Then
going out from this study, which may long bafile and puzzle
his intensest scrutiny, he must see the counterpart of himself
in what man has been. He must read nature in the mild-
ness of Chrysostom, in the ferocity of Caligula, in the libertin-
ism of Augustine, in the scowling bitterness of Voltaire, in
the philosophical skepticism of Hume, in the vulgar and)ition
of a Cajsar, the intense love of honorable fame of a Cic_,ero.

54 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

He must study himself in the amiable, the refined, the vulgar,
the lustful, the bloody, the ambitious examples of human
nature that crowd the past. Nor is this the limit of his study
in this direction. For men are all around ; human nature is
revealing itself under all forms of life on every side of him.
He must come in direct contact with men just as they are.
He must learn their littlenesses, their meanness, their poverty
of thought, their poverty of self-support, their powerlessness
for self-elevation, their assumed morality, their gigantic pride,
their intense selfishness, their nobler impulses crippled, de-
feated by the secret despotism of earthy j^assions. Under-
standing himself from his own conscious experience, and fill-
ing out what is imperfect in that experience by observation
on man in the past and present, he will lay the foundation
for progress in the practical knowledge of the science of Ee-
demption. on the infallible conviction of the utter ruin in
which the soul is involved. No man can begin to pull down
the strongholds of sin until he has measured their strength ;
he can not preach a Saviour until he knows from what men
are to be saved ; he can not build a new temple in the human
heart until the rubbish and rotten timbers of the old have
been taken away.

But when he has gone thus far in this subjective process,
he has only begun the work. He has made plain the ruin,
but he has not repaired that ruin. Now commences anothei-,
a higher process. It is no longer the process of destruction,
but of construction ; it is not the work of casting down, but
of rearing the veritable temple of holiness in all its primal
beauty. Now the words of divine tmth become vital, life-
giving ; promises rise to realities ; the will delivered from its
bondage to the earthy, rejoices in the freedom of subjec-
tion to its heavenly sovereign ; new affections spring into
existence ; Faith leads on the sublime procession. Love follows
with her train of graces, and Hope begins to sing her epithala-
miums over the union of the soul to Jesus and the blessed-
ness of the glory that is to be revealed. This process of rear-
ing the new man to a Christ-like stature is full of paradoxes

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 55

and wonders. Advancing, then seeming to retreat ; exalted
to-day, cast down to-morrow ; hungering after God for a
time, then feeling the returning desire of the world wax
strong within him ; buffeted by all winds, tempted by all
forms of pleasure, beset by malignant foes on all sides ; then
riding calmly at anchor with Jesus in the vessel and the
tempter gone ; thus the soul ascends to victory. This is that
subjective culture through which the young minister gains his
highest fitness for his work. In this the Scriptures reveal
their freshness, their vitality, their adaptation to all the as-
pects of his life. Here they become elements of that life, they
are wrought into his deepest experiences, they carry with them
a stronger evidence of their divine original than do the stars
or the flowers. Gradually invigorating the will for the right,
working themselves through and through the entire actings
of the spirit, they become a life of thought, of feeling, of
action. He turns to them as the babe goes to its mother's
breast ; in darkness they are his light ; in sorrow his conso-
lation ; in defeat his triumphant recovery, through which his
very sins become a ladder along which he rises nearer the throne.
And here I must insist upon a broad distinction between
this subjective culture and that which is objective. It is
one thing to classify and arrange and combine and even
unfold eloquently the system of divine truth ; it is another
and a far higher attainment to enthrone this truth in all its
quickening power within the soul itself. To preach learnedly,
classically ; to construct sermons according to the finest rules
of composition, and deliver them with all the art of rhetoric, is
one thing ; but to preach Christ and him crucified out of a
heart that has been crucified with him and knows how to lay
our sins upon him and center all our hopes in him, is quite an-
other thing. And as in the ministry there is a perpetual and
a mighty tendency toward the first ; as in us the most subtle
of all temptations is that which addresses our ambition,
which tends insensibly to make preaching an art, a trade, a
business, so does it become you to guard against this with an
undying vigilance. Preaching is not an art ; no rules can

56 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

compass it ; no forms can create it. It is a living product
of a living soul ; it is an intelligence, revealing itself to otliers
indeed, but then it is an intelligence compounded of light and
heat, of thought warmed in the heart, vivified by experience.
Of some truths there may be a clear statement, a splendid dis-
cussion, an eloquent unfolding, in which the intellect and the
natural emotions alone have part. But when you come to
connect these truths with the whole system ; when you are to
make them take their place, not as cold dogmas, but as living
jiarts of a living whole ; when they are to be made the wis-
dom of God and the. poiver of God unto salvation, then they
must come forth mingled with, intensified by the theology of
a rare experience ; then, and only then, do they become the
compound blow-pipe in whose flame the human heart so melts
that it can readily take the impress of the divine image. And
so it often ha})pens that the minister who has advanced pro-
foundly into this inward culture, doth usually surj^ass another
vastly his superior in native gifts and intellectual attain-
ments, in the vigor and success with which he prosecutes the
great work of preaching the gospel. But when both are com-
bined, there comes forth a Paul from his synagogue, a Chry-
sostom from his cathedral, a Luther from his convent, the
grandest incarnation of human thought and action and in-
fluence.

In this department of ministerial culture there are two
thino-s so vital to success as to demand a distinct mention.
The first is alliance with Christ as the effective power of the
ministry ; the second is singleness of purpose with him as its
object.

Self-reliance is cultivated as a great source of power. In
actual education of men for their work in this world, a merely
earthly policy, in its wisdom, insists upon this as the highest
habit of manly energy. This springs necessarily from the
limited nature of its aims and its resources. Man is the
highest source of power, and the purposes he seeks to accom-
plish are only those which fall within the sphere of those nat-
ural influences he imagines himself able to command. Hence

THEOLOGICAL TKAINING. 57

the highest philosophy of the workl is the cultivation of self
in its form of personal intelligence, tact and energy. In the
consdous possession of these men go forth confidently to their
work. But in the case of the Christian minister this whole
process, which may be called the natural process, is reversed
— his strength springs from his conscious weakness ; self-
distrust is the condition precedent to a trust in Jesus Christ ;
the powerlessness of all instruments to effect the work before
him forces him out of himself. The highest intelligence ;
eloquence the most moving ; tact and energy the most con-
summate, are here no more effective in themselves to renovate
a soul, than the chains and commands of Xerxes to calm the
turbulence of the J^gean. Another power must be enlisted ;
the victory belongs to a conqueror supreme above all natural
forces. Not a few men of earthly natures have accomplished
mighty deeds under the impression that they were the chosen
of God for a great purjjose. Napoleon's "Fate" was his con-
viction that Grod wrought through him. But unlike these
men, the minister must come into living sympathy with him
who works in him and by him. Associated with the conviction
that he is merely the instrument, there must be a living faith,
which daily puts his hand into the hand of Jesus ; which
communes most intimately and sweetly with him as his all-
sufficient Redeemer and Sovereign. The whole habit and
method and power of prayer grows into being, rises to be a
life, in consequence of this habitual distrusting of self, and this
constant alliance of the soul to the Saviour. It is planted in
the closet, watered in the study, ripened in the pulpit. Para-
doxical as it may seem, this reliance on Jesus becomes on the
one hand the best form of self-reliance and on the other the
spring of vast energy for action. For as self is purified, all
its powers develop themselves under this divine influence in
harmony along the line of his labor. The soul swells with
conscious poAver ; with a life that is productive of life. It
learns to stand independent of men ; it feels itself in alliance
with the arm that holds up creation ; and feeling thus it puts
forth energies that before were powerless, in the perfect assur-

58

EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

ance that now a divine influence will flash along them ; that
what once was weakness will now become strength ; that
even the words which a material philosophy rejects and de-
spises, will go forth freighted with and directed by the wis-
dom of God right into tlie secret places of the soul. Herein
lies the true source of ministerial power ; herein lies the se-
cret impulses that move him to constant labor ; this convic-
tion that Christ is with him, with him in loving fellowshijD,
with him in the exercise of all his j^roper work as a minister,
holds him up when success delays to come, gives him patience
in seeming defeat, courage to encounter all forms of oppo-
sition, joy even when the world looks down upon him as
despised and neglected. If he is defeated, then Christ is
defeated ; if he is despised, Christ is despised ; and he well
knows that sooner or later the victory will be won by the arm
that is mighty to save. Constantine rushed to victory with
the cross blazoned on his banner ; the minister of Jesus rears
the cross in his heart ; nails to it his pride and selfishness ;
is daily crucified with his suffering Lord, and from the tomb
where the earthly nature lies buried, daily ascends to the
right hand of Majesty on high.

Allied to this and springing out of it, is the singleness of
purpose with which the work of the ministry shall be prose-
cuted. This work is unique in its nature, in its object, and
methods. It stands alone amidst the pursuits of men. Pecu-
liar in its character, vast in its objects, opening before the in-
tellect and the heart a sphere of labor broader than any other,
it is utterly impossible to meet its demands without an en-
thusiastic devotion to it as the work of life. The prepara-
tion that it requires tasks the highest powers of the mind.
No man knows too much to be a minister ; no man has a
genius so rich and productive, an intellect so clear and com-
prehensive, as to need a finer field for their development
than that which the humblest position of a pastor affords.
The great enemy that meets us everywhere is our felt incom-
petency ; the great burden that presses upon us is this, that
with all our study and devotion, the work outgrows our pow-

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 59

ers. And for any man to imagine that lie can be all he ought
to be and do all he ought to do, in the appropriate work of
the ministry, and yet become eminent, or be largely engaged
in things foreign to this work, is an idea ruinous to his prac-
tical efficiency. On one side or the other there must be
neglect and failure. No man here can serve two masters.
The attempt to do it issues in the secularization of the min-
istry, i. e., robs it of its distinctive power and glory. In point
of fact little is ever accomplished in any direction without the
concentration of our powers upon the object before us. No
matter what may be the actual capacity, unless that capacity
is developed along the line of the work designed to be effected,
it is rarely ever the case that a person succeeds in it. But
when the whole intellect is put into it ; when all the avail-
able energy is applied in the right direction, then even weak-
ness becomes strength, and the unity and earnestness of the
purpose enlisting the whole man, rarely ever fails to secure
its accomplishment. But the ministry is just of that nature,
as, above all other pursuits, to call for this entire consecration
of the soul, and where this is really the case, when it becomes
the all-absorbing possession of the life, then indeed Avill its
results always justify the effort put forth.

Now this unity of purpose and this true enthusiasm must
spring in part from a just conception of the dignity, the im-
portance and eternal grandeur of the work to be done. We
must educate ourselves to an habitual elevation of view, a
wide comprehension of the unspeakable issues that depend on
our ministry ; we must learn how, from the- scattering of seed
in the human heart, there will grow uj) a life glorious in its
beauty, transcendent in its excellence, God-like in its nature.
Amidst the discouragements which meet us, we are to cherish
these visions of the future glory of a soul redeemed ; and
having Christ as our co-laborer, go forth into the desert to
make it bud as the rose. And if you need an illustration of
this part of our subject to animate you, you have but to com-
pare the early and the later periods of the ministry of that
remarkable man, whose renown and glory are not limited to

60 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

Scotland, Lut belong to the whole church of God. When the
young Chalmers, in the pride of his self-sufficiency, attempted
to combine another work with that of his ministry in Kil-
many, barrenness and darkness followed the exhibitions of his
matchless intellect. But when, humbled at the foot of the
cross, he had taken Jesus to his heart, when his views of the
worth of the soul and the importance of the ministry had
been purified and enlarged by a personal application to the
Redeemer, then, shaking off his sluggishness, separating him-
self from all but his own appropriate work, he came forth like
Samson with his locks grown ; he poured the light and lieat
of his burning intellect direct upon the hearts of men ; he
accomplished those mighty works for the Church and his
generation that have remolded the form of Scottish piety,
and reared her church in all the liberty and light of the sons
of God.

In the more direct culture of the intellect, the attainment
of objective knowledge, we have three great divisions, the exe-
getical, the doctrinal, the historical. The first supplies the
subject-matter in its elements ; the second combines them
and gives unity ; the third illustrates and confirms, by reveal-
ing truth in life.

Exegesis furnishes the material out of which the minister
is to construct. It is the base line from which all his depart-
ures are to be made, and to which they are to return. This
is the department on which he is to bestow a greater amount
of time and labor than oji any other. No day should pass
without some advance in the direct study of the Bible itself
The field is so immense, so varied, that with all his diligence,
after years of intense study, he will find large portions of it
not yet overtaken. In pursuing it there is a common defect
in method, which has much to do with the failure of multi-
tudes to appreciate its value. A man may study the Bible
in a mere grammatical and servile spirit. His train of thought
may be given almost wholly to the forms of words. He may
become skillful in tracing out roots and paradigms, and yet
after all miss the very life of the passage he seeks to under-

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING, 61

stand. Important as grammar is in its place, it is but a serv-
ant ; it holds a subordinate position ; it is nothing better than
the scaffolding around the building. By it alone no man ever
becomes a truly accomplished interpreter of the divine word.
There is a vastly higher attainment in this department I
would urge you to make. It is the cultivation of that dis-
cernment which looks readily into the very spirit of the lan-
guage ; which lays hold of the course of thought, of which
words are only the formal indices. The "difference between a
mere word analyzer, and him who, penetrating the shell,
reaches the profounder thought, is immense. The one thinks
his work done when he has given you the word in its varia-
tions of form : the other deems his work then but just begun.
He takes language in its connections, the thought as reveal-
ing itself along the line of words ; and catching the spirit of
the sacred writer, entering into his position, learns to look
out of his eyes and enter fully into his conceptions. The dif-
ference is equally great in the freshness and fullness of the
products of these minds. The first becomes dry, effete, very
good on easy passages, but blind and stupid where it is the
thought in its connections that constitutes the whole difficulty
of interpretation. The other, sinking the forms, and esjjeci-
ally passing lightly over those which are the mere accidents
and incidents of the passage, takes the rich and glowing con-
ceptions of the writer into his intellect, feels liis own mind
swell and glow with the high argument, the beautiful imagi-
nation, the gi'and description. The first unfits a man to
preach ; it disgusts by the dryness of the insignificant details ;
it limits its thought to particles and shades of forms so much
as to be almost incapable of appreciating the adaptation of
the truth itself to man, with liis throbbing heart and earnest,
practical life. The second fills the soul itself with the kernel
of truth rather than with the husks, and thus inspires the
man to come forth and pour the fullness of his fresh and vivid
and homelike, heart-affecting conceptions upon the waiting
hearts of others. Of the first, more than one of the German
commentators, especially of the infidel school, are striking

62 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

examples ; of the second, I know of no one who constitutes a
finer illustration than Calvin. With far less of mere jAilo-
logical learning than many of his successors, he yet displays a
power of detecting the course of thought, of penetrating the
spirit of the sacred writers, of bringing forth their ideas in all
their vitality and freshness, surpassing all others.

And here too you trace out the reason why so few minis-
ters succeed in exegetical preaching. The tendency of this
method is to exalt the minute and the accidental to a level
with that which is essential. All parts of a sentence are
made to run on a plane — to go on all fours. Now when any
man attempts this style of commentary, which befits a college
drill, in the pulpit, he is sure to fail. Robert Hall, with all
his powers of intellect, once tried it in vain. Most young
ministers start with the idea of inducting their people into
the mysteries of philology, and fail of course. This is not
jDreaching any more than sawing wood is making a fire. The
people have sense enough to know that analyzing language
is not using language to express the thoughts which their
spiritual life needs. And so the minister gives up the whole
business of exegetical preaching as not within the range of
his powers. Dr. John M. Mason could do it, but he is not
Dr. Mason. Now, if instead of this he should take Cal-
vin's method ; if he should study the language until the
thouo;ht in all its connections stood before him as a vivid re-
ality ; if then he should give a substantial expression to it in
all the glow and fervor of his own intellect and in language
his own, think you his hearers will sleep, or gaze in stupid
wonder ? think you his whole method of sermonizing will not
acquire a richness, a variety, an adaptation to all the parts of
life and experience, which nothing else can give ?

If now, while thus prosecuting this general course of prep-
aration for his work, he should select a few of the more
difficult passages of the Bible, and giving to them a special
attention, bring to bear upon them all his intellectual acu-
men, study them for weeks, nay for months if necessary :
then when the subject-matter stands forth clearly in his OAvn

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 63

mind, let him preach those thoughts, not in the form of a
commentary, but of a sermon ; let him preach not more than
half a dozen such discourses in a year, and you may rest as-
sured, tha't from this vigorous grapple with difficulties, and
this protracted study of individual passages, and this clear
unfolding of them, his powers as a preacher will receive a
greater enlargement, and his people a more thorough enlighten-
ment than from all the more common and hasty efforts of the
entire year.

Common and hasty efforts — common, because hasty — every
minister in this land who preaches twice on the Sabbath and
lectures once or twice a week, must make. The larger portion
of the topics on which he must dwell do not demand a vast
amount of study profitably to unfold them. But if the young
minister limits himself to these, he will inevitably become
shallow and superficial. . The general tone of his preaching
after years in the ministry will be lower in point of power
than his first efforts. It is only by this occasional grapple
with the more profound truths of Scripture, by this protracted
course of study and elaboration of preparation, that liis whole
style and manner of sermonizing will attain a higher charac-
ter, his intellect a richer furniture, and his ministry attributes
of strength and life.

Exegesis thus furnishes us with the rich materials of
thought. To this, hoAvever, its province is limited. These
truths are given to us in parts, in the concrete relations of
life. It is for us now to enter upon another process — a pro-
cess of combination, of construction. The precious stones are
here ; we have quarried them and seen their individual beauty.
But what place do they occupy in the great temple ? What
are their relations to each other ? What is the whole of
which these are but parts ? Here then we enter upon another
department of ministerial culture, that of dogmatic theology.
Tlie human mind instinctively seeks for law, order, system in
all things. Wisdom lies not in the parts, but in the combi-
nation as a whole. In the mind of G-od all truth is related,
jointed together, in one magnificent plan, through which his

64 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

creative intellect flames forth in infinite glory. And just as
far as we aj^jiroximate to him in understanding, we rise to an
apprehension of this vast system which he has de\^sed to show
forth his wisdom. You may see a single tree, majestic, beau-
tiful, and admire it. You set that tree in a landscape where
vale and hill and lake and forest intermingle, and how the
sense of the beautiful grows upon you. You add the water-
fall, the majestic mountain, and you feel the impress of the
sublime overshadowing the beautiful. So in all things
science grows out of combination. You put together the
isolated particulars ; you harmonize the seeming chaos ; you
discern a law that reduces the mass of various particulars
into relations fit and beautiful. Thus as you ascend from
the particular to the universal, you see systems within sys-
tems ; science groAvs into being ; you sweep easily a wider
horizon ; you compass uses and objects unthought of before ;
you caixy on your investigations into the earth beneath and
the heavens above, and through them all and over them, em-
bracing and holding them in its mighty arms, you see a tran-
scendent system of law and order, wonderful in w^isdom, pro-
found, vast, infinite in its operation. And just as it is in
natural science, so is it in this which is spiritual. Man's na-
ture hath its laws ; God in his relations to sphitual beings
has established a system, in which this human nature has its
appropriate position and sphere. Now it is the business of
the theologian to trace out that position and these relations.
And in doing this he takes the facts of revelation as the high-
est elements of truth here attainable, and combines them to-
gether according to his ability. Just so far as he is success-
ful in this, he rises to an understanding of the harmony, the
wisdom of the w^hole plan of God's working with his creatures ;
so far his own intellect becomes illuminated with broader and
more comprehensive visions of the divine character and will ;
so far he gains strength, force, breadth, in the development
of his reason. Kedemption, what is it ? Man's delivery from
sin and its penalty. What necessitates it ? The divine nature
and the human in conflict ; justice in the divine, unholiness

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 65

in the human. Whence comes it .^ By whom ? In what
manner ? How doth it ojierate ? Questions such as these,
questions that burst forth spontaneously from the heart and
intellect of man, carry you at once into the investigations of
the whole system of redemption ; oblige you to combine, ar-
range, classify, search out the law that gives harmony to this
system, the relations of its parts one to another, the fitness of
its instruments, the wisdom of its entire operation. The man
who does not thus learn to combine and arrange the elements
of truth as given in the Bible, is deficient, sadly deficient, in
the highest ministerial powers.

There are two jjoints here on which I wish to remark ; the
first has reference to the method of doctrinal investigation ;
the second, to the method of preaching the doctrines. If a
man starts on these investigations with the idea that his
finite reason is the source of knowledge, or even the ultimate
judge of what is best in the divine system, then, I take it, he
had better let reasoning alone. He is on the wrong tack.
He can not help driving on to a reef or quicksand instead of
sailing into the harbor and planting his feet on the continent
of truth.

The first element of a wise minister's character, is child-
like docility. He must accept Christ as his infallible teacher ;
the Bible as true in all its facts, whether he can comprehend
them all in a consistent system or not. When starting from
any other point, setting up a philosophy which his reason has
somehow concocted, he attempts to make the divine revela-
tion square with his hypothetical dogmatics, then I object.
The Bible is full, is complete in itself. It is the highest phi-
losophy ; it is the highest reason ; it is the revelation of the
divine mind and as such I have nothing to do, but to put to-
gether, classify and arrange its great facts according to their
perceived relations. If in doing this I can not always see
through all the ground or reason of the facts themselves, it is
not for me to deny the facts. It is mine humbly to accept
them, confident that in the light of that sublime intellect into
which I shall shortly enter, the reason of it will be fully un-

5

66 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

folded. I will not deny that Christ's sacrifice on the cross
constituted a just basis on which God could sincerely offer
salvation to all men, because I can not make that square
with a philosoj)hy of the atonement. This very fact, stated
as clearly and as broadly as language can state, is found in
the Bible ; and, being there, it must constitute one of the
parts of divine philosophy of the atonement. So, when a
man forms a peculiar philosophy of the nature of Christ and
his relation to the Father, and his sufferings, which virtually
destroys the distinction of the Trinity — makes the atonement
just like the scenic arrangements of a theater, through which
you can thrust your foot and destroy the illusion — then it .
seems to me he has started wrong. The finite reason usurps
the functions of the infinite ; the conditioned thrusts itself
into the sphere of the unconditioned. But when, taking the
Bible as in itself the revelation of the higher facts of the
divine system, philosophy simply attempts to arrange these
facts in their appropriate relations, so that the whole system
in its connections may stand forth visible to every eye, then
and only then do we fulfill the part of humble students — then
and only then are we educating ourselves to fulfill the minis-
try of Jesus.

Are we not then to prosecute the study of philosojihy —
the study of the soul and its powers, and the abstract nature
of the divine ? Certainly. The Bible gives us only general
facts, not an arranged psychological system. Every man who
thinks much, who studies his own nature and that of God,
will have views and opinions which will constitute his phi-
losophy. But then this philosophy should be rather the out-
growth of the Bible — bringing the presupposed facts of our
nature into just arrangement and connection with those rec-
ognized in this divine book. Are there not then facts, data,
outside the Bible on which we may reason independently ?
To a limited extent this is true. But the grand difficulty
with the mere philosopher has ever been, either that he as-
sumed that which was not fact, or that his reasoning was
broader than his facts. The whole history of pliilosophy shows

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 67

this. Advancing and retreating ; shifting its ground with
every new speculator ; agreed only on one thing, that all pre-
vious philosophers were wrong but the last. Instead, therefore,
of testing Scripture by philosophy, we do just the contrary,
we test philosophy by Scripture. If a man of science tells
me that the negro's shin bone and woolly hair constitute him
a really different species of the genus homo, and therefore
there must have been more than one pair originally created ;
why, I accept his fact and deny his reasoning, just because his
conclusion is not in harmony with Scripture. If another
advances a philosophy of human nature based on only two
principles, self-love and the freedom of the will, I accept the
fiicts, but deny that he has embraced all those which are
properly separate and fundamental ; for the original law of
God requires at least two others in addition to these — thou
skalt love the Lord God ; thy neighbor as well as thyself. If
Volney ridicules Ezekiel for describing the winged monsters
in Nineveh, and the soldiers of Tyre as hanging their shields
on the wall, I deny his assumption of fact altogether, and
wait until a Layard shall disentomb from Nineveh those very
winged monsters and the pictures of those Tynan soldiers
hanging their shields on the wall. Thus I would make the
Scriptures always the point of departure and return, the test
of philosophy At the same time it is of importance, in the
study of systematic theology, to learn how to harmonize all
the great facts of science with the truth as it is in Jesus, as
far as this lies within the compass of our powers.

In reference. to the preaching of the doctrines, I may be
permitted to remark, that to preach the gospel is to preach
the system of redemption. It is impossible to educate a peo-
ple so as to give them a strong, intelligent, substantial reli-
gious character, without frequent discussions of doctrinal
points in the pulpit and lecture room and Bible class. You
can no more give solidity and intelligence to Christian char-
acter, without grappling the fundamental questions which
constitute systematic theology, than you can make a child
gi-ow strong on sweetmeats and cake. The pastors wlio were

68 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

educated forty years ago, have sometimes been blamed for tlio
prominence they gave to doctrinal discussion in the pulpit.
T his was the characteristic of their age. Philological studies
in this country had made little progress. A little Latin and
Greek, and scarcely any Hebrew, was the sum total of their
attainments in philology. They studied with men famed
rather as thinkers than scholars. The force of their intellects
was developed almost exclusively along the line of dogmatic
theology. The teachers fomied schools of philosophy, follow-
ing some renowned leader. The young ministers came forth
imbued with the philosophy of their instructor and full of
ardor in the work of proclaiming the system of theology as
modified by that philosophy. The force, the genius, which
is now scattered over a wide field, then concentrated itself on
doctrinal investigation. Eminence here was super-eminence.
And he was a grand power in the church, seen and heard afar,
who discussed with the intelligence of a master the mooted
doctrines of the day. It was natural, in this state of things,
that the excess should be in this direction. But in our day
the whole current is in the contrary direction. Doctrinal
preaching must stand aside, not so much for exegetical
preaching, as for easy topics of all kinds, from telegraphs
and railroads, down to what, with the keenest satire, is called
moral reform. I confess that as between these two extremes,
the first is the best. There was, after all, a manliness, a
strength of thought in it which gave birth to and molded
manly, strong men. If they made too much of the skeleton,
our moderns seem intent on trying to make men without
any bones at all — a mere mass of fat and muscle. Which
is the better method, to teach the catechism to the young,
discuss it in your Bible classes as they advance, and demon-
strate its great points in your pulpits on the Sabbath, or
teach your youth a few stories, a few general precepts of
morality, and then amuse your grown-up children with ele-
gant similes, startling gestures, clap-trap arguments, laugh-
ter-moving anecdotes, and eloquent demonstrations of things
they all know as well as you do ? Certainly it will be an im-

THEOLOGICAL TEAINING. 69

provement in our modern sermonizing, to have infused into
it more of the strength of doctrinal discussion characteristic
of our flithers. These young men, going forth from these
halls of sacred science, will combine in their preaching the
fuller and sounder interpretation which a thorough exeget-
ical training has qualilied them to make, with that definite
and clear discussion of fundamental doctrines which enters so
largely into the training of a manly Christian.

In reference to the historical department of Christian
science, I have not time to say what its importance demands.
Sacred history is the truth of God incarnate in the Church.
It is this supernatural truth attended by supernatural influ-
ence making its way among men. It is to be likened not so
much to a river, which remains much the same, as to seed
that is planted in different soils and under varying climates,
yet is nourished by the same quality of rain and sunshine.
This plant, as it grows, is necessarily affected in its outward
development and character by the influences about it. The
same tree assumes different phases in different latitudes, and
in the same latitude in different exposures. Now the Church,
which is everywhere the product of the same substantial truth
and divine Spirit conjointly operative, grows into life and
spreads itself among peoples of different customs, differing
governments, and diverse intellectual culture and character.
These affect its external form ; and these exert upon it a
certain modifying influence. Or rather it grows up, pushing
itself here and there through these, not always changing or
destroying, but modifying and being itself modified. In addi-
tion to the tracing out of these changes and the influence of
these external circumstances, history reveals the causes and
the character of all those errors which, springing up some-
times in the bosom of the Church itself, sometimes imported
into it from without, have exerted so vital and so disastrous
an influence upon its progress. Now what experience is to
the young Christian, Church history is to the minister of
Christ. It puts him in a position to take in at a glance
the influences that have promoted or have retarded the ad-

70 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

vance of true faith. It forewarns and forearms him against
specious errors, whose latent i^oison may not be at first visi-
ble, against measures which do not immediately reveal their
tendency to displace the Church from her position on the
rock of simple truth. He gathers around him an experience
it would be impossible for him in the longest life to attain.
Moreover, it opens to him the richest arsenal for the defense
of the truth ; shows him how the truth has lived and wrought
and combated with error, and finally triumphed over it. Nor
is this all ; it brings him into association with piety in all
ages, under all forms of church polity, under all the modi-
fications of intellectual culture. It liljeralizes the mind,
takes it out of and above the narrow range of his parish, his
church, his country and his age. It sets him down in familiar
converse with the saints of all ages, and roots out of him that
stupid bigotry which narrows the life of true Christianity to
one's own sect. In doing tliis, it furnishes him with a thou-
sand confirmations of the divineness of the gosj)el and the
devilish nature of error ; it fills his mind with legitimate and
jjowerful illustrations of the truth which will be of incalculable
value to him in the preaching of the gos])el ; and enables him
to be wise in government, sound in doctrine, judicious in coun-
sel. No young minister should neglect to 7naster this depart-
ment of sacred knowledge. It will be worth to him more
than all his merely secular reading put together. For here
he will see the divine and human, the sacred and secular in-
termingling ; here he will learn to trace out the method in
which the divine government is working out its great ends —
the kind of exj)eriments through which the Church is being
conducted and the final jiurposes are to reach their full and
triumphant conclusion. The whole j^hilosophy of divine
providence, at first seemingly objectless and chaotic, will
gradually assume form and order. He will observe its laws ;
he will rise to its objects ; he will catch its spirit. As from
some lofty mountain, to which with infinite toil he has as-
cended, he will have before him the movements of the hosts
of Israel and the hosts of the world ; and throut^jh the dust

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 71

and smoke of conflict, lie will discern the plan of tlie great
Captain, who presides over all in infinite, wisdom.

I am aware that this department of science is lamentably
deficient, not in materials, but in works embodying these
materials in a form attractive, and in a spirit accordant with
the gospel itself Much of it has been written by men either
wholly destitute of the evangelical spirit, and hence entirely
strangers to the true philosophy of history, or by men whose
method and style render their productions unattractive. It
is a shame, a dishonor to the Church, that such glorious fields
of thought should be so cultivated ; while profane history
has been invested by a Hume, a Niebuhr, a Gibbon, a Ma-
caulay, a Prescott, an Irving, a Bancroft, with the charms of
beauty, and sprightliness, and eloquence, sacred history hardly
numbers one who has enshrined its immortal teachings in set-
ting worthy of its nature and influence. Oh ! that some mind
may rise, uniting the German research, the English common
sense, wdtli American brilliancy and force, to give to the
Church of God a history that shall charm while it shall in-
struct ; that, penned and characterized by the philosophic
spirit, shall yet set forth the great heroes of her past, and
their heroic works, in words that will attract the attention,
and enlist the sympathies of all who love truth and admire
the great and good.

And now, without following out this general train of
thought, let me ask your attention to one or two points which
fitly follow this discussion. There are two practical questions
which, before a minister has been long settled, he finds press-
ing upon him : how shall he give to his people instruction,
variety and freshness ? It is a case too common to be re-
markable that a minister, after the first excitements of the
ministry are over, settles down into a uniform habit of preach-
ing. And this habit is productive of monotony, not only in
manner, but in matter also. He chooses topics on which he
can preach most readily, he treats them all in the same style ;
he repeats the figures, the very thoughts which are already
familiar to his audience. A person who hears him but once

72 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

or twice will pronounce the sermon excellent ; but those who
sit steadily under his ministry can tell, Avhen he begins, when
he is going to end. He obeys the Scripture in one respect,
but woefully disobeys in another. He brings plenty of the
old, but the new has long since become old.

Now, if this man will but take the Scriptures, just as
they are written, and, without servilely attempting to explain
the crossing of every f, and the dotting of every *, put him-
self to the work of bringing out in their fullness the succes-
sive topics of the sacred writers in their order ; if, instead of
putting every discourse on the same block, and going through
with all the parts of it according to his rhetorical models, he
will let each sermon take its form from the text he is explain-
ing ; if sometimes he will catch the very spirit of the sacred
writer and let that give form and shape to his preaching ; if
he will consent to forget himself, and suffer the word of life,
in its affluence of thought, and grandeur of imagery, and
variety of illustration, to till his soul and stir his nature
through all its sources of power ; if he will bring to each topic,
as it presents itself, all the latent principles and knowledge
related to it, which now like useless lumber is stored away in
his mind — then you may rest assured this man can hardly fail
of enjoying a perennial vivacity and variety of thought ; then
will new trains of ideas spring up on all sides ; then will he
begin to wield a two-edged sword, which, flaming in every
direction, pierces on all sides the hearts of men. Of such a
man it will never be said that he does not preach up to the
times. That cant of modern freebooters in and out of the
pulpit will have lost even the appearance of truth. For
human nature and life were the same in the apostolic age as
in this. Men had the same subjective nature, and they
sought the same objects ; their vices, their temptations, their
objections, their ignorance, their afflictions and their joys —
the methods of holiness and sin, were pretty much the same.
And it constitutes one of the most wonderful characteristics
of the Bible, that not only does it establish the great princi-
ples of human reasoning, but that it has practically applied

THEOLOGICAL TKAINING. 73

tliose principles to almost every case that can possibly arise in
the course of man's life. Let any man thus follow the sacred
writers along the line of their writings, and he will find him-
self coming in contact with human natui'e in all its variety
of experience ; he will learn how to reach all the intricacies
of Christian experience and minister to all the wants of the
imperfect Church. Along all the path in which God con-
ducts his people from cliildhood to old age, around and over
all the heights and depths of the Christian's life, he will see
the light of heaven falling, and thus he will learn to preach
to man as man, without taking one step outside the Bible
to hunt up topics.

But, in addition to tliis method of sermonizing, let me
suggest to you the importance of following up a course of
reading such as will bear upon all these various topics. The
Bible is connected on all sides with human life. It ramifies
into secular history. Geography brings tribute to it ; travels,
and works descriptive alike of the ancient and modern life of
man, are full of suggestions that will aid the student pastor to
illustrate and enforce the truths of the sacred word. Especi-
ally should the young minister give attention to a3sthetic cul-
ture. He who neglects this, neglects one of the fullest sources
of freshness and power. Beauty is God's own creation ; he
lives and rejoices in it ; he has given it to us everywhere in
the heavens and on the earth. He meant it not to take the
place of strength, and he who substitutes the one for the other,
is like the man who would create a world of color and form
alone. It is the solid granite ribs the world ; it is the rock
and the iron that form the basis of all productive life. But
then God has covered the granite with forests and flowers ;
he crystallizes the snow ; he resolves the sunbeam into the
harmonious beauty of colors ; he rears man himself in beauty ;
he crowns man with honor as the very consummate flower of
all his earthly creation. Beauty is always fresh, joyous, de-
lightful. In the sermon it is as attractive as in the land-
scape ; and when it comes in to adorn the strength of that,
to gild the gieatness and ruggedness of argument, then it is

74 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

like the sparkle of the coronet on the anointed king of Israel.
All men feel its power and rejoice in its presence. The min-
ister of Christ who, from a mistaken notion of the intrinsic
dignity of the gosj^el, despises those forms of beauty in which
that gospel finds a fitting robe in which to appear before the
people, despises what David and Isaiah rejoiced — what Paul
and John delighted in ; what Jesus, the incarnate One, deigned
to use in the work of speaking as never man spake. Shall
men of the world assume to themselves this rich heritage ?
Is this world clad in somber, quaker colors ? Is heaven
adumbrated to us in images, rude, homely, ugly ? And wiU
the minister of Jesus, who should study all modes legiti-
mate of reaching the human heart, of attracting men to the
Bible, neglect a culture which, in its effect upon himself, will
give new impression to his preaching and consecrate to God
the weapons which worldly men have debased to ignoble ends ?

Depend upon it, that no man, who cultivates all the best
parts of his nature, can fail to have regard to those sensibili-
ties which bring him into sympathy with all that is beautiful
in the creation of God and the artistic works of man.

Another source of monotony in preaching is the attempt
to group all kinds of excellence in each sermon. The result
is a failure ; simply because no one subject will admit of all
excellence. Excellence is relative. What is good in an argu-
ment, may not be good in exegesis ; what is good in a sermon
on some plain and practical question, may not be good in the
development of an abstract princiiDle. It is a jDrinciple of
landscape gardening, to group together trees of the same kind,
and thus, instead of mixing the varieties in each group and
having all your groups alike, by planting each group of one
kind, and the different groups of different kinds, you will se-
cure the highest degree of variety, and, in a broad landscape,
of beauty. This, in point of fact, is the way in which nature
more commonly works ; the majiles oftener grow together
than otherwise, and the elms, and the oaks. So in preaching ;
when you make an argument, let it be an argument, compact,
clear, symmetrical, logical, simple in its terms, and reaching

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING, 75

a just conclusion. Let it prove something. When you at-
tempt to unfold some principle of God's government that
needs illustration more than any thing else, then select the
best illustrations, and treat the whole subject according to its
nature. When your sermon is largely esegetical, dealing in
explanations of words and phrases and the connections of sen-
tences, then avoid the attempt to be eloquent and moving,
when your object should be mainly to enlighten. If occasion-
ally you have a subject which admits of all kinds of jjreach-
ing — of argument, exegesis, exhortation, description, then fill
it full of all the excellence it will admit. In this way you
will be sure to have your preaching fresh and varied.

If now, in addition to the faithful study of the Bible and
the history of the Church, you should make your pastoral
work give a special character to your pulpit services, you can
not fail to have a constant variety and freshness of thought.
It is here the pastor will find a constant illustration of the
truths of the Bible. At every step of his pastoral work he
will meet with minds that need to be enlightened ; donbts to
be solved ; tendencies to be restrained ; efforts to be encour-
aged. As he returns to his study after thus mingling with
men, topics, trains of thought, illustrations of truth, will
crowd upon him. His sermons Avill partake of the character
of the hour and the time. The scenes of prosperity, when all
nature is a bridal, and ej^ithalamiums are heard in every house-
hold ; the times when sickness and trouble and death, with
raven wing, flit from family to family ; the occasions of out-
breaking worldliness, when the S2)irit of earthliness becomes
epidemic, invading even the sanctuary of the Lord ; and the
hushed and solemn scene, where the fixed eye, the silent
attention, give token of the presence of another Spirit in its
renewing power ; the peculiarities of individual experience in
God's children, and the varying aspects of the youthful por-
tion of the congregation, will all combine to mold the Sabbath
work and give a special freshness and life to the minister's
teachings. These things, it is true, will not create the sub-
stantial body of his preaching. That must be gained by the

76 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

enlarged course of intellectual training and study on which I
have already insisted. But when he has thus mastered the
gi'eat princij)les, these furnish the occasions for their appli-
cation, these show the use which all the attainments of the
study may be made to subserve in the pulpit. The principle
of gravitation once settled and its laws determined, its appli-
cation reaches to all material objects on earth and in the
heavens. The simple demonstrations of Euclid are steps along
which the mathematician advances to the resolution of higher
truths. The lines of thought, the connected reasonings, the
jH'ofound views of the different 2)arts of the system of re-
demption, brought out in the study, and for a time lying in
the brain as almost useless lumber, in varying aspects of the
pastor's life, are brought forth at length to settle practical
questions and give force to the develo^nnent of truth adapted
to the wants of living hearts panting for divine knowledge-
And thus all the parts of this ministerial education will work
together. He who gives himself wholly to his work, will find
light flashing all along his path, brightening even to its close.
In this land the position of the ministry is most favorable
for the exertion of a far-reachino; and ennoblino; influence.
That position depends primarily on the character and qualifi-
cations of those who fill it. They may make it what they
please ; they may exalt it in the eyes of the people so that
it shall fill up the full measure of the design of Jesus in
its institution ; they may drag it down until there are
none to do it reverence. With none of Ca3sar's robes to
give it a formal dignity, it has none of Ceesar's gilded chains
upon its limbs. If it is not respected ; if it is otherwise
than influential and mighty to bless the people ; it can only
be because it is untrue to itself and the Master. The fact
is that it excels all other professions in its means of influ-
ence, as the sun does the stars. All the great interests of
society feel necessarily the plastic power of a true, faithful,
and able minister. His presence, his words, his life, his
guiding intellect and executive hand, touch a thousand chords
of feelino;. His influence is like light and heat — whether

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 77

men will it or no, it ennobles, guides, educates. Under
it industry awakes to new triumphs ; learning and education
advance to more commanding positions ; even law and medi
cine assume a manlier tone. This minister of Christ has in
himself the power of educated mind ; he has in himself the
power of a high moral culture ; he has, from his very associ-
ation with Jesus Christ, the power of the gospel ; and with
all this power he stands where he can exert it most effectively
for the good of men. He has an acknowledged position in
society ; he occupies from Sabbath to Sabbath a position of
direct influence unequaled in the community. He deals pub-
licly and privately with the conscience and the heart. In
time of trouble he comes as a son of consolation ; in the
time of spiritual distress, he comes as the enlightened guide,
pointing the convicted sinner to the great Deliverer ; he takes
the young convert in the flush of his new-born hope, and
molds him into activity and usefulness. He goes down to
the young, and entering into their sympathies, attracts them
to the path of the Good Shepherd. He works out and through
the noblest principles, made germinant and mighty by the
Holy Spirit to purify and exalt.

Now, if a man with all the authority of a solemn conse-
cration to the ministry, with all these materials of influence
and these opportunities for using them, fails to occujiy a high
position in society ; fails to win respect and confidence ; fails
to do good largely and to reap the reward of a well-doer,
though with here and there an exception, it must be that he
alone is to blame. In vain does he utter his complaints and
lamentations over the degeneracy of the pews ; it is the pul-
pit that is degenerate. What is a Christian ministry worth
if it has not the power to lift the pews up from their degener-
acy ; what is it good for if society must first be exalted and
then come as a wet nurse to it, feed it with cake and sweet-
meats ; take its hat off and do it obeisance as if ,it were a
painted doll or a Catholic saint .? For one, I rejoice that the
ministry is wholly dependent upon its own character for its
influence ; and that it must work with all its might either to

78 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

be or to do what Christ designed. Such a ministry, able,
faithful, earnest, will neither starve nor lack influence. They
will necessarily occupy the positions of chief power in the
land. They will be felt happily, savingly, all through so-
ciety. They will influence all parts of education, all devel-
opments of social life.

If, however, with all the fearful responsibilities of this
ministry upon his soul, he shall give way to sloth and a per-
functory performance of duty ; if he shall hesitate to enter a
field of labor because it promises more of toil and care than of
honor and gold ; if he shall give himself primarily to any
other object than that of making full proof of his ministry,
w'herever the providence of God may have placed him, then
he ought to fail ; then he will fail. Of all the causes which
have operated to break up the pastoral relation (which have
come under my observation) not one is so common and so in-
fluential as the neglect of preparation for the pulpit. This
lies at the heart of a minister's power.

If a man is diligent in mastering the elements of instruc-
tion, if he gives himself to this, the most difficult and impor-
tant part of his work, he can not fail to attain power as a
preacher. If he is faithful in the study he will be more likely
to be faithful in all the other points of ministerial labor.
Three words describe the chief work of the Christian preacher :
Conquest — Edification — Education. In the first, the gospel
spreads its power over men's minds and converts sinners to
the cross. In the second, the gospel is brought to bear upon
the just development of the Church in intelligence, and
grace, and active labor for Christ. In the third, this same
truth is made steadily to operate upon the young until they
too have been garnered as the jewels of Christ. And in all this
work the preacher is to reveal his powers ; tact, patience, a
facility of conforming to the circumstances in which he is
placed, he should have. But high above all things he must
shine as a preacher of the truth as it is in Jesus. Here in
this pulpit, from this candlestick, he should give forth a clear,
bright light ; a light flaming higher and purer, as study, ex-

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 79

perience, and grace divine, minister to his head and heart the
generous oil of heavenly truth. With a position known and
acknowledged to be at the head of all the moral and religious
forces that mold society ; with a theme the grandest the
mind of man can study ; with objects related immediately to
all that is most precious in society and ultimately invested
with the sacred, awful interest of eternity ; with materials all
furnished to his hand, the fullest and richest, when only pa-
tient thought and study are needed to master them ; with a
divine Saviour to encourage, and, as the Captain of salvation,
to lead on ; with a Holy Spirit to insph-e, succor and give
the victory ; with a church on earth in sympathy, and many
hearts to pray for him as he stands, Christ's ambassador, be-
fore hundreds of souls — and what more does the youthful min-
ister need to make him a light in his generation ? With such
objects before him and such inspiring forces with him, his
pulpit should be a throne where Jesus shall be seen revealing
his power from Sabbath to Sabbath ; where the scepter of
Mercy above that of Justice should be^ held forth to the
guilty ; where the songs that ascend from the sea of glass
around the white throne on high shall be heard in their glo-
rious harmony reechoed on earth. To this place he should
bring the hearts of all his parishioners ; praying for them in
faith ; dealing with each in true love ; baptizing them with
tears, and seeking for them the sprinkling of the blood that
speaketh better things than that of Abel. A ministry filled
with this spirit ; love of God ; inspired with the love of
souls ; proficient in the mastery of the truth ; speaking that
truth with all the authority and fervor of a messenger of the
Most High ; with all the copiousness, force, and adaptation
which study, experience, and jjrayer can supply ; with a
consciousness of immediate alliance with Christ Jesus, and
strength derived from him, will be a blessed, a successful, a
glorious ministry. A divine life will flow forth from it upon
all society. An influence quiet, deep, pure, resistless, almost
unseen, will emanate from such pulpits filled by such a min-
istry, under whose plastic power the young shall grow up in

80 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

beauty and Christian strength ; the vicious shall be reformed,
or driven to hide themselves and their vice ; while the mass
of the community shall rise in intelligence, hundreds shall
devote themselves to the Christian life. Multiply such a
ministry until all over this earth they shall see eye to eye,
covering the globe with their hallowed ministrations, and
then shall come on that day, so long predicted, when one song
shall employ all nations.

Young Gentlemen of the Ehetoeical Society :

I have thus spoken to you on education for the ministry
in the larger sense — a sense which, while it embraces that de-
partment to which your society is more immediately devoted,
is not limited to it. My apology for this is found in what I
have already stated, and in the fact that you have had this
subject recently so fully and ably discussed. Some of you are
immediately to enter the ministry, and all after a year or two
will have completed your course. I come to you to-day with
words of cheer. Looking back over the score of years just
past, since by the hands of the presbytery I was set apart to
this ministry, I see much to lament — defects, great and nu-
merous— yet above them all the merciful goodness of Grod fol-
lowing every step, seconding every right effort and imparting
a joy and peace in this work the world knows not of. The
greatest trials of your life will not spring from without ; you
are compassed about with infirmities, and within yourselves
is the great troubler and deceiver of men. This is part of
Christ's purpose, to use imperfect men in saving the imper-
fect, that the glory may all be his own. Outward trials you
will meet. Hemmed in at times, you will be like Israel at
the Ked Sea. But these trials will become the ladder down
which the angels of God will descend to minister to you ;
faith in Christ will strike the waters and they will part
asunder, leaving for you an open pathway along which with

THEOLOGICAL TRAINING. 81

songs of praise you will pass on to Canaan. You must Lc
stricken with the rod of God that out of you may How the
water that is to heal others. You, in common with the Church,
are to fill up the measure of Christ's sufferings, that together
you may be crowned with joy in the day of his triumph. Yet
with all this understood, I can testify to you this day, that
the work on which you are entering, is, to him who pursues
it with a single mind, the most Messed on earth. You are to
be associated with Jesus and angels and the spirits of the
just departed, all symj^athizing with you in your holy work.
You are to labor in fashioning that spiritual temple in whose
construction is to be revealed the manifold wisdom of God.
You are to labor not only for the interests that perish, but
for souls that are to live when the stars cease to shine. Cour-
age then, young brethren ; go forward in the name of Israel's
God and plant your banners on all the high places of Satan's
empire ; wave it wherever the hosts of the world muster in
thickest array ; fear not the face of man ; lean wholly on the
arm that is mighty to save, and ye shall win a good degree
and shine for ever as stars in the firmament of God,

III.

FEMALE EDUCATION.*

It was my design, when the duty of addressing the friends
of education on this occasion was first assigned to me, to erect
before you a complete structure in itself, although without
pretension to splendor or magnificence ; but like the plans of
many other builders, mine has so outgrown the time fixed for
the completion of my labor, as to permit the throwing up of
only a portion of the main edifice. The wings, the pillars,
the capitals, the cornices, the gateways, all the completeness
of the design and the beauty of ornament, you will look for
in vain. It is not in a single hour so vast, so interesting a
subject as that of Female Education, can be thoroughly pre-
sented. Its nature, its influence, its field of action, compre-
hending a wide range of the noblest topics, render it utterly
impossible to do justice to the entire theme in the. brief limits
ordinarily assigned to these discussions. Indeed, it seems
almost a superfluous efibrt, were it not expected, nay, de-
manded, by the very circumstances which have called us to-
gether, to discuss the subject of education before such an
audience as this. It is to discourse on Female Education in
its presence ; it is like anatomizing a Venus to inspire the
sentiment of admiration, or delivering an oration on the sub-
lime in the valley of Chamouni. I do not say this in the
spirit of flattery to those whose cause it is ever a privilege to
plead. Man never flatters when he utters truth or justly ap-
preciates the works of God, however exalted may be his sen-
timents, however comprehensive his language. I speak thus

* An address delivered at the dedication of Ohio Female College, Septem-
ber 4, 1849.

FEMALE EDUCATION. 83

in the spirit of devout thanksgiving to our Father in heaven,
who, in the crowning work of his creation, gave woman to
man, made weakness her strength, modesty her citadel, grace
and gentleness her attributes, aifection her dower, and the
heart of man her throne. With her, toil rises into pleasure,
joy fills the breast with a larger benediction, and sorrow,
losing half its bitterness, is transmuted into an element of
power, a discipline of goodness. Even in the coarsest life,
and the most depressing circumstances, woman hath this
power of hallowing all things with the sunshine of her pres-
ence. But never does it unfold itself so finely as when Edu-
cation, instinct with Religion, has accomplished its most suc-
cessful work. It is only then that she reveals all her varied
excellence and develops her high capacities. Education, in-
deed, adds nothing to her. It only unfolds powers that were
latent, or develops those in harmony and beauty, which
otherwise would push themselves forth in shapes grotesque,
gnarled or distorted. God creates the material, and impresses
upon it- his own laws. Man, in education, simply seeks to
give those laws scope for action. The uneducated person, by
a favorite figure of the old classic writers, has often been com-
pared to the rough marble in the quarry ; the educated to
that marble chiseled by the hand of a Phidias into forms of
beauty and pillars of strength. But the analogy holds good
in only a single point. As the chisel reveals the forms which
the marble may be made to assume, so education unfolds the
innate capacities of men. In all things else, how poor the
comparison ! how faint the analogy ! In the one case, you
have an aggregation of particles, crystallized into shape, with-
out organism, life or motion. In the other, you have life,
growth, expansion. In the first, you have a mass of Hme-
stone, neither more nor less than insensate matter, utterly
incapable of any alteration from within itself. In the second,
you have a living body, a mind, affections instinct with power,
gifted with vitality, and forming the attributes of a being
alhed to and only a little lower than the angels. These con-
stitute a life, which, by its inherent force, must grow and

84 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

unfold itself by a law of its own, whether you educate it or
not. Some development it will make, some form it will as-
sume by its own irrepressible and spontaneous action. Tlie
question, with us, is rather what that form shall be ; whether
it shall wear the visible robes of an immortal, with a counte-
nance glowing with the intelligence and pure affection of
cherub and seraph, or through the rags and sensual impress
of an earthly, send forth only occasional gleams of its higher
nature. The great work of education is to stimulate and
direct this native power of growth. God and the subject co-
working, effect all the rest.

In the wide sense in which it is proposed to consider the
subject of education, three things are presupposed — personal
talents, personal application, and the Divine blessing. With-
out capacities to be developed, or with very inferior capaci-
ties, education is either wholly useless or only partially suc-
cessful. As it has no absolute creative power, and is utterly
unable to add a single faculty to the mind, so the first condition
of its success is the capacity for improvement in the subject.
An idiot may be slightly affected by it, but the feebleness of
his original powers forbids the noblest results of education.
It teaches men how most successfully to use their own native
force, and by exercise to increase, it but in no case can it
supply the absence of that force. It is not its province to
inspire genius, since that is the breath of God in the soul,
bestowed as seemeth to him good, and at the disposal of no
"finite power. It is enough if it unfold and discipline, and
guide genius in its mission to the world. We are not to de-
mand, that it shall make of every man a Newton, a Milton,
a Hall, a Chalmers, a Mason, a Washington ; or of every
woman a ISappho, a De Stael, a Koland, a Hemans. The
supposition that all intellects are originally equal, however
flattering to our pride, is no less prejudicial to the cause of
education than false in fact. It throws upon teachers the
responsibility of developing talents that have scarcely an ex-
istence, and securing attainments within the range of only
the very finest powers, during the period usually assigned to

FEMALE EDUCATION, " 85

this work. To the ignorant, it misrepresents and dishonors
education, when it presents for their judgment a very inferior
intellect, which all the training of the schools has not inspired
with power, as a specimen of the results of liberal pursuits.
Such an intellect can never stand up beside an active though
untutored mind — untutored in the schools, yet disciplined by
the necessities around it. It is only in the comparison of
minds of equal original power, but of different and unequal
mental discipline, that the results of a thorough education
reveal themselves most strikingly. The genius that, partially
educated, makes a fine bar-room })olitician, a good county
judge, a respectable member of the lower house in our State
legislatures, or an expert mechanic and shrewd farmer, when
developed by study and adorned with learning, rises to the
foremost rank of men. Great original talents will usually
give indications of their presence amidst the most depressing
circumstances. But when a mind of this stamp has been
allowed to unfold itself under the genial influence of large
educational advantages, how will it grow in power, outstrip-
ping the multitude, as some majestic tree, rooted in a soil of
peculiar richness, rises above and spreads itself abroad over
the surrounding forest ! Our inquiry, however, at present, is
not exclusively respecting individuals thus highly gifted.
Greniuses are rare in our world ; sent occasionally to break
up the monotony of life, impart new impulses to a genera-
tion, like comets blazing along the sky, startle the dozing
mind, no longer on the stretch to enlarge the boundaries of
human knowledge, and rouse men to gaze on visions of excel-
lence yet unreached. Happily, the mass of mankind are not
of this style of mind. Uniting by the process of education
the powers which God has conferred upon them, with those
of a more brilliant order which are- occasionally given to p.
few, the advancement of the world in all things essential to
its refinement and purity and exaltation, is probably as rapid
and sure as it would be under a different constitution of things.
Were all equally elevated, it might still be necessary for some
to tower above the rest, and by the sense of inequality move

86 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES,

the multitude to nobler aspirations. But Avliile it is not j^or-
niitted of God that all men should actually rise to thrones in
the realms of mind, yet such is the native power of all sane
minds, and such their great capacity of improvement, that,
made subject to a healthful discipline, they may not only
qualify us for all the high duties of life on earth, but go on
advancing in an ever-perfecting preparation for the life above.
There has been a long-standing disjiute respecting tlie in-
tellectual powers of the two sexes, and the consequent style
of education suitable to each. Happily, the truth on this
subject may be fully spoken, without obliging me, in the
presence of such an assemblage of grace, beauty and intelli-
gence, to exalt the father at the expense of the mother, or
ennoble man by denying the essential quality of woman. It
is among the things settled by experience, that, equal or not
equal in talents, woman, the moment she escapes from the
despotism of brute force, and is suffered to unfold and exer-
cise her powers in her own legitimate s])here, shares with man
the scepter of influence ; and, without presuming to wrest
from him a visible authority, by the mere force of her gentle
nature, silently directs that authority, and so rules the world.
She may not debate in the Senate, or preside at the Bar — she
may not read philosophy in the University or preach in the
Sanctuary — she may not direct the national councils or lead
armies to battle ; but there is a style of influence resulting
from her peculiar nature which constitutes her power and
gives it greatness. As the sexes were designed to fill different
positions in the economy of life, it would not be in harmony
with the manifestations of divine wisdom in all things else, to
suppose that the powers of each were not peculiarly fitted for
their own appropriate sphere. Woman gains nothing — she
always loses when she leaves her own sphere for that of man.
When she forsakes the household and the gentler duties of
domestic life for the labors of the field, the pulpit, the ros-
trum, the court-room, she always descends from her own
bright station, and invariably fails to ascend that of man.
She falls between the two : and the world gaze at her as not

FEMALE EDUCATION. 87

exactly a woman, not quite a man, perplexed in what cate-
gory of natural history to classify her. This remark holds
specially true as you ascend from savage to refined society,
where the riglits and duties of woman have been most fully
recognized and most accurately defined. Mind is not to be
weighed in scales. It must he judged hy its uses and its m-
fiuence. And who that compasses the peculiar purpose of
woman's life ; who that understands the meaning of those
good old Saxon words, mother, sister, wife, daughter ; who
that estimates aright the duties they involve, the influences
they embody in giving character to all of human kind, will
hesitate to place her intellect, witli its quickness, delicacy and
persuasiveness, as high in the scale of power as that of W\e
father, husband, and son ? If we estimate her mind by its
actual power of influence when she is permitted to fill to the
best advantage her circle of action, we shall find a capacity
for education equal to that of him, who, merely in reference
to the temporaiy relations of society, has been constituted
her lord. If you look up into yonder firmament witli your
naked eye, the astronomer v\rill point you to a star which
shines down upon you in single rays of pure liquid light.
But if you will ascend yon eminence* and direct towards
it that magnificent instrument which modern science has
brought to such perfection of power, the same star will sud-
denly resolve itself into two beautiful luminaries, equal in
brilliancy, equal in all stellar excellence, emitting rays of dif-
ferent and intensely vivid hues, yet so exactly correspondent
to each other, and so embracing each other, and so mingling
their various colors as to pour upon the unaided vision the
pure S2)arkling light of a single orb. So is it with juan and
woman. Created twofold, equal in all human attributes,
excellence and influence, different but correspondent, to the
eye of Jehovah the harmony of their union in life is perfect,
and as one complete being, that life streams forth in rays of
light and influence upon society.

* Mount Adams.

bo EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

The second thing presupposed in education, is personal
application. There is no thorough education tliat is not self-
education. Unlike the statue which can he wrought only from
without, the great work of education is to unfold the life
within. This life always involves self-action. The scholar
is not merely a passive recipient. He grows into power by
an active reception of truth. Even when he listens to anoth-
er's utterance of knowledge, what vigor of attention and mem-
ory are necessary to enable him to make that knowledge his
own ? But when he attempts himself to master a subject of
importance ; when he would rise into the higher region of
mathematics, philosophy, history, poetry, religion, art ; or
even when ho would prepare himself for grappling with the
groat questions of life, what long processes of thought ! what
patient gathering together of materials ; what judgment,
memory, comparison and ])rotracted meditation are essential
to complete success ? The man who would triumph over
obstacles and ascend the heights of excellence in the realm of
mind, must work with the continuous vigor of a steamship
on an ocean voyage. Day by day the fires must burn, and
the wheels revolve in the calm and in the gale — in the sun-
shine and the storm. The innate excellency of genius or tal-
ents can give no exemj)tion to its possessor from this law of
mental growth. An educated mind is neither an aggregation
of particles accreted around a center, as the stones grow ; nor
a substance, which placed in the turner's lathe, comes forth
an exquisitely wrought instrument. The mere passing through
an academy or college, is not education. The enjoyment of
the largest educational advantages, by no means infers the
possession of a mind and heart thoroughly educated ; since
there is an inner work to bo performed by the subject of those
advantages, before he can lay claim to the possession of a well
disciplined and richly stored intellect and aifections. The
phrase, "self-made men," is often so used as to convey the
idea that the persons who have enjoyed the advantages of a
liberal education, are rather made by their instructors. The
supposition is, in part, unjust. The outward means of edu-

FEMALE EDUCATION. 89

cation stimulate the mind, and tlms assist the process of de-
velopment ; but it is absolutely essential to all growth in
mental or moral excellence, that the person himself should
be enlisted vigorously in the work. He must work as earnestly
as the man destitute of his facilities. The difference between
the two consists, not in the fact that one walks and the other
rides, but that the one is obliged to take a longer road to
reach the same point. Teachers, books, recitations and lec-
tures, facilitate our course, direct us how most advantageously
to study, point out the shortest path to the end we seek, and
tend to rouse the soul to the putting forth of its powers ;
but neither of these can take the place of, or forestall intense
personal application. The man without instructors, like a
traveler without guide-boards, must take many a useless
step, and often retrace his way. He may, after this exper-
imental traveling, at length reach the same point with the
person who has enjoyed superior literary aid, but it will cost
the waste of many a precious hour, which might have been
, spent in enlarging the sphere of his vision and perfecting
the symmetry of his intellectual powers. In all cases of
large attainments and ripe character, in either sex, the process
of growth is laborious. Thinking is hard work. All things
most excellent, are the fruit of slow, patient working. The
trees grow slowly, grain by grain — the j^lanets creep round
their orbits, inch by inch — the rivers hasten to the ocean by
a gentle progress — the clouds gather the rain-di-op from the
invisible air, particle by particle ; and we are not to ask that
this immortal mind, the grandest thing in the world, shall
reach its perfection by a single stride, or independently of the
most early, profound and protracted self-labor. It is enough
for us that, thankfully accepting the assistance of those who
have ascended above us, we give ourselves to assiduous toil,
until our souls grow up to the stature of perfect men.

The third thing presupposed in education, is the divine
benediction. In all spheres of action, we recognize the over-
ruling providence of God working without us, and his Spirit
commissioned to work within us. Nor is there any work of

90 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

mortal life in whicli we more need to ally unto ourselves the
wisdom and energy of Jehovah, as an essential element of
success, than in this long process where truth, affection, de-
cision, judgment, and perseverance in the teacher, are to win
into the paths of self-lahor minds of every degree of abihty,
and dispositions of every variety. When God smiles upon
us, then this grand work of molding hearts and intellects for
their high destiny moves forward without friction, and the
young heart silently and joyously comes forth into the light.

I have presupposed three things in reference to education.
Permit me now to remark that the field which it covers is
also threefold — the body, the intellect, and the heart.

The body is the living temple of the soul. It is more than
a casket for the preservation of the jewel ; it is more than the
setting of the diamond ; it is more even than an exquisitely
constructed dwelling wherein the soul lives, and works, and
worships. It is a living, sensitive agent, into Avhicli the
spirit pours its own life, through which it communes with all
external nature, and receives the effluxes of God streaming
from a material creation. It is the admirable ors-an thi'ough
which the man sends forth his influence either to bless and
vivify, or to curse and wither. By it, the immortal mind
conv'erts deserts into gardens, creates the forms of art, sways
senates, and sheds its plastic presence over social life. The
senses are the finely wrought gates through which knowledge
enters the sublime dome of thought ; while the eye, the
tongue, the hand, are the instruments of the spirit's power
over the outer world. The soul incarnate in such a body,
enjoys a living medium of reciprocal communication between
itself and all things without. Meanwhile, the body itself does
not arrive here mature in its powers ; nor does it spring sud-
denly from the imbecility of the infant to the strength of the
man. By slow development, by a gradual growth, in analogy
with that of a tree whose life is protracted, it rises, after
years of existence, to its appointed statm-e. Advancing thus
slowly, it affords ample time for its full and free development.

In this physical training, there are two points of special

FEMALE EDUCATION. 91

importance. The first is the removal of all unnatural re-
straints and the pressure of unhealthy customs ; the second
is the opportunity, the motive and the habit of free exercise
in the pure air of heaven. These, as causes of health and fine
physical development, are interwoven as are their opposites.
In the progress of society from barbarism to refinement, it
has often been the case that men, in departing from what was
savage, have lost that which was natural ; and in their ascent
from the rude have left behind that which was essential to
the highest civilization. In escaping from the nakedness of
the barbarian, they have sometimes carried dress to an ex-
treme of art which renders it untrue to nature and productive
of manifold evils. In ascending from the simple and rude
gastronomy of the savage, they have brought the art of cook-
ery to such an excess of luxury as to enervate society by
merely factitious appetites. In the formation of habits of
life, social intercourse and amusements adapted to a refined
state, they have introduced many things at war with the
healthful development of both body and mind. The manly
exercises of swimming, skating, riding, hunting, ball playing ;
the bracing walk in storm and sunshine ; the free ramble over
hill and dale, all adcqjted to develop an independent, self-rely-
ing character, with the occasional reunion where wit, science,
healthful industry and serene piety shed their benedictions ;
associating that which is free and bold with the refined and
sacred ; all these are, in many cases, displaced by frivolous
and less healthful excitements. Our girls and our boys, pre-
maturely exalted into young gentlemen and ladies, are tutored
by dancing-masters and fiddlers, taught postures and the
right use of feet ; their manners disciplined into an artificial
stifihess ; and the free developments of an open nature formed
under the genial influence of truly polite parents — the finest
discipline in the world — arrested by the strictures of a purely
conventional regimen, in which the laws of health and the
higher spiritual life seem never to have been consulted. With
such a physical training, associated with a corresponding edu-
cation of the mind and heart, they are ripe for the customs

92 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

and fashions of life in harmony therewith ; and totally averse
to the purer, manlier, and nobler duties and pleasures of a
better state of society. To dress and exhibit themselves ; to
crowd the saloon of every foreign trifler, who, under the abused
name of art and for the sake of gold, seeks to minister to us
those meretricious excitements which associate themselves
with declining states and artificial forms of life ; to waste the
most precious hours of night, set apart by the God of nature
for repose, in dancing, eating, drinking and revelry, follow
naturally enough upon such training. Then in the rear, come
disease of body and mind, broken constitutions and broken
hearts ; and last of all, with grim majesty, death, prematurely
summoned, avenges this violation of the laws of nature upon
the miserable victims, and quenches the glare of this brilliant
day in the darkness of the tomb. How utterly different is
such training and such modes of life consequent upon it, from
those which are dictated by a thorough understanding of our
nature and the great purposes of our existence. For in all
these things we shall find there exists a connection sufiiciently
obvious between the right education of the sj)irit and the
body ; and that so strong is their mutual influence as to render
it of great importance to care for them both in harmony with
each other. Then shall we regard the perfection of the form
and the vigor of our bodily powers. Casting away whatever
did not consist with the health and finer developments of the
physical system, we should pursue that course of education
which best prepared the body for its grand work as the living
agent of the spirit.

In considering physical training, it is allowable for us to
look both at beauty and intellectual power. A noble form in
man ; a fine, beautiful, healthful form in woman, are desir-
able for their outward influence. Created susceptible of deep
impressions from external appearances, it is neither religion
nor good sense to undervalue them. That men generally have
over-estimated their worth, is a reason why we should reduce
them to their true position, and not sink them below it. The
palace of the soul should befit its possessor. And as Grod has

F E M A L E P: D U C A T I O N . 93

taken pleasure in scattering images of beauty all over the
earth, and made us susceptible of pleasure therefrom, it is
right that in the education of our children we should seek for
the unfolding of the noblest and most beautiful forms. Shall
we beautify our dwellings ; adorn our grounds with plants,
flowers and trees of various excellence ; improve the breed of
our cattle, and yet care not for the constitutions and forms
of those who are on earth the master-pieces of divine wisdom
and the possessors of all this goodly heritage ? Most of all,
however, as the agent of the spirit, should we seek to rear our
children in all healthful customs and invigorating pursuits.
It is possible, indeed, that a mind of gigantic powers may
sometimes dwell in a feeble frame, swayed to and fro by every
breath of air. But we are sure that such a physical state is
the source of manifold vexations, pains and loss of power. It
is a state which the possessor never covets ; which oppresses
him with the consciousness of an energy he is forbidden to
put forth, and a force for moving the world crippled by the
impediment of a frail body. For the full discharge of all the
duties of life ; for the affording to our mental powers a fair
field for their action ; and especially for the education and
advancement of succeeding generations, it is indispensable the
vigor of the body should correspond to the vigor of the intel-
lect, so far as to constitute the one the most efficient agent of
the other. It has rarely been taken into view, that, aside
from the personal benefits of health in the greater power of
present action, the intense intellects and feeble frames of one
generation are a ruinous draft upon both the physical and
mental powers of that which succeeds. A race of overwrought
brains in enfeebled bodies, must be recruited from a more
healthful stock, or their posterity will, in time, decline into
idiocy or cease from the earth. The process of degeneracy,
by an infallible law, will pass from the body to the intellect ;
and the descendant of a Luther or a Bacon go down to the
level of the most stujjid boor that drives his oxen over the
sands of southern Africa. It is with reference to this impor-
tant part of education, that I congratulate you on the position

94 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

of this institution. On this elevated spot, in this pure air,
with these virgin forests casting their shadows around you
and inviting to meditation, there is open to the youth who
may here assemble, the opportunity of engaging in healthful
physical recreations. Here may the mothers of generations
to come, gain a vigor of constitution and develoj) forms no
less fitted for the endurance of the trials of life, than prepared '
to shed the attractions of grace and beauty over society.

Let us now enter upon the second jiart of the field of edu-
cation, the training of the intellect. It is obvious that we
have in this, a much higher subject to deal with than that on
which we have just dwelt. The physical form in a few years
develops itself, and soon reaches its utmost limit of growth.
It is then an instrument whose powers we seek to maintain
but cannot increase. As time advances, indeed, those powers
gradually yield to the influence of disease or age, until the
senses begin to neglect their office, the brain declines in vigor,
while the tongue, the eye, the hand forget their accustomed
work in the imbecility wrought by the approach of death.
But no such limitation is manifest to us in the growth and
future life of the intellect. Dependent upon the body for a
healthful home in this world, and so far limited by the con-
ditions of mortality, it yet seems to have in itself no absolute
limitation bounding its prospective and possible attainments,
save as the finite never can fully attain to the infinite. Grant-
ing it a congenial home, a fitting position, with full oppor-
tunity for progress, and there is scarcely a height this side
infinity which in the ascent of ages it seems not caj)able of
reaching. All creatures are finite, and as such, limited ;
but the horizon around the soul is so amazingly expansive,
and the capacities of the mind for progress so immense, that
to us, in our present state, it is almost as if there were no
limitations at all.

The j^ower of the intellect to acquire facts and relations,
and from them to ascend to the laws which control them ; its
power to advance in a daily ascending path into the region of
intuition, where masses of things, once isolated or chaotic.

FEMALE EDUCATION. 95

range themselves into liarmony, and move in numbers most
musical ; its power thus to rise into an enlarging vision of
truths now latent, and behold directly laws, relations, and
facts which once evaded the sight, or were only seen dimly
and after great toil, it is utterly beyond, our sphere to limit.
We know that wliat to us in childhood was a mystery, is now
simple ; that some of the grandest laws of the material world
which a few years back were reached only after stupendous
labor, are now beconj;,e intuitive truths ; and we can see no
reason why the human mind is not capacitated for just such
advances eternally ; at every ascent sweeping its vision over a
broader range of truths, and rising ever nearer that Omniscient
Intellect to which all things are open. The instinct and im-
perfect reason of the noblest brutes, are here in marked con-
trast to the mind of man. They reach the limit of knowledge
with the ripening of their physical frame ; a limit which no
training, however protracted and ingenious, can over pass ;
which never varies, except as a cord drawn around a center
may vary, by being enlarged on the one side and contracted
on the other ; and which prepares them without the acquisi-
tion of a particle of superfluous intelligence for their brute life
as the servitors of man. While his mind, never wholly sta-
tionary for a long period, has capacities for development that
seem to spurn a merely sensual Ufe, and lift the spirit to a
companionship with angels ; which, instead of resting satisfied
with the mere demands of the body, seeks to penetrate the
deep springs of life, discern the exquisite organism of an
insect's wing, measure the stars, and analyze the light that
reveals them.

Possessing an intellect of so fine a nature, it is not to be
questioned that, according to our opportunities, it is incum-
bent on us to carry forward its improvement from childhood
to hoary age. A power like this, of indefinite expansion, in
directions surpassingly noble, among subjects infinitely grand,
has been conferred that it might be expanded, and go on ex-
panding, in an eternal progression ; that it might sweep far
beyond its present horizon and firmament, where the stars

96 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

now shining above us, shall become the jeweled pavement
beneath us, while above still yoU other spheres of knowledge,
destined in like manner to descend below us as the trojihies
of our victorious progress.

To bury such an intellect as this in the common places of
a life of mere sense ; to confine it to the narrow circle of a
brute instinct and reason ; to live in such a world, with the
infinite mind of Jehovah looking at us from all natural forms,
breathing around us in all tones of music, shining upon us
from all the host of heaven, and soliciting us to launch away
into an atmosphere of knowledge and ascend to an acquaint-
ance with the great First Cause, even as the bird challenges
the fledgeling to leave its nest, and be at home on the wing ;
to live amid such incitements to thought yet never to lift the
eyes from the dull round of physical necessities, is treason
toward our higher nature, the voluntary defacement of the
grandest characteristic of our being. The education of the
intellect is not a question to be debated with men who have
the slightest appreciation of their noble capacities. The ob-
ligation to improve it is commensurate with its susceptibility
of advancement and our opportunities. It is not limited to a
few years in early life, it presses on us still in manhood and
declining age. Such is a general statement of the duty of in-
tellectual improvement.

In the actual education of the mind, our course will neces-
sarily be modified by the ultimate objects at which we aim.
Properly, these are twofold — the first general, the second
specific. The first embraces the general training of all our
intellectual powers, with direct reference to the highest spirit-
ual life here and hereafter. We place before us that state of
immortality to which the present stands in the relation of a
portico to a vast temple. The intellect is itself destined to
survive the body, and as the instrument through which the
heart is to be disciplined and fitted for this condition of ex-
alted humanity, is to be informed with all that truth most
essential for this purpose. Whatever there be in the heavens
or the earth — in books or works of men, to discij)line, enlarge,

FEMALE EDUCATION, 97

and exalt the mind, to that we shall be attracted. A right
heart breathes in an atmosphere of truth ; it grows and re-
joices in communion with all the light that shines upon it
from the works or word of God. All truth, indeed, is not of
the same importance. There is that which is primary and
essential ; there is that which adds to the comj)letcness, with-
out going to the foundation, of character. The truths that
enter a well cultivated mind, animated by right sentiments,
will arrange themselves by a natural law in the relative posi-
tions they hold as the exponents of the character of Grod, and
the means more or less adapted to promote the purity and
elevation of man. All truth is of Grod ; yet it is not all of
equal value as an educational influence. There are diiferent
circles — some central, some remote. The crystals of the rock,
the stratification of the globe, and the facts of a like character,
will fill an outer circle, as beautiful, or skillful, or wonderful,
in the demonstration of divine power, but not as in them-
selves unfolding the highest attributes of God. The archi-
tecture of animate nature, the processes of vegetable life, the
composition of the atmosphere, the clouds and the water will
range themselves in another circle, within the former, and
gi'adually blending with it, as the manifestations of the wis-
dom and beneficence of God. Then the unfoldings of his
moral character in the government of nations, in the facts of
history, and in the general revelation of himself in the Scrip-
tures, will constitute another band of truth concentric with
the others, yet brighter and nearer the center. While at
length in the cross and person of Christ — in the system of
redemption, and all the great facts which it embodies, we be-
hold the innermost circle that, sweeping round Jehovah as its
center, reflects the light of his being, most luminously upon
the universe. Such is obviously the relative order of the
truth we seek to know. It is the different manifestation of
God, ascending from the lowest attributes of divinity, to those
which constitute a character worthy the homage and love of
all beings. Now as it is the great object of life to know God
and enjoy him, so in education we are to keep this steadily in

98 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

view, and follow the order of procedure for the attainment of
it which God has himself established. To spend the life or
the years of youth on the study of rocks and crystals, to the
neglect of the higher moral truths which lie within this circle,
is unpardonable folly — a folly not to be redeemed by the fact
that such knowledge is a partial unfolding of God to man.
It is little better than studying the costume to the neglect of
the person — than the examination of the frame to the neglect
of the masterpiece of a Kaphael enclosed within it — than the
criticism of a single window to the neglect of the glorious
dome of St. Peter's — than the view of the rapids to the ne-
glect of the mighty fall of Niagara. In education, the ob-
servance of this natural order of truth, will bring us, at length,
to that which fills the outer circle, and thus all the kinds of
knowledge will receive a just attention. Indeed, the study of
the one naturally lead us to the other. We shall pass from
the inner to the outer lines of truth, and back again, learning
all the while, this important lesson, that the study of the
more remote class of truths is designed to conduct us to a
more perfect appreciation of that which is moral, religious,
central, and saving ; while the study of the higher parts of
revelation will show us that the former come in to finish and
perfect the latter. We do not despise the frieze — the archi-
trave— the cornice — the spires and the various ornaments of
the temple, because we regard as most essential, the founda-
tion, the corner-stone, the walls, and the roofing ; but in due
time we seek to impart to our edifice, not only strength and
security, but the beauty of the noblest and richest adorn-
ment. According to our means, and as the necessities of life
will permit, we shall seek for knowledge from all its various
spheres, and despise nothing that God has thought worthy
of his creative power or sujiporting energy.

Now this large course of education in obedience to its first
great object, is not limited by any thing in itself or in us, to
a particular class of individuals. It is the common path
along which all intelligent beings are to pass. The object to
which it conducts is before us all, and common to all. It is

FEMALE EDUCATION. 99

not divided into departments for separate classes. Woman,
as well as man, has an interest in it, and an obligation to
seek for it, just as binding as that which rests on him. All
souls are equal, and though intellects may vary, yet the pur-
suit of truth for the exaltation of the soul, is common to them
all. As this obligation to unfold the powers of the intellect,
that we may grasp the truth, is primary, taking precedence
of other objects — since all duty is based on knowledge, and
all love and worship, and right action on the intelligence and
apprehension of G-od — so education, which in this department
is but the development of our capacity, preparing us to pur-
sue the truth, and master the difficulties which frown us
away from its attainment, rises into a duty the most impera-
tive upon all rational beings. The same path here stretches
onward before both sexes, the same motives impel them, the
same objects are presented to them, the same obligations rest
upon them. Neither youth nor age — neither man nor woman,
can here make a limitation that shall confine one sex to a
narrow corner — an acre of this broad world of intelligence —
and leave the other free to roam at large among all sciences.
Whatever it is truly healthful for the heart of man to know ;
whatever befits his spiritual nature and immortal destiny,
that is just as open to the mind of woman, and just as con-
sistent with her nature. To deny this abstract truth, we
must either affirm the sentiment falsely ascribed to Mahomet,
although harmonizing well enough with his faith in general,
that women haye no souls ; or take the ground that truth in
this, its widest extent, is not as essential to their highest wel-
fare as it is to ours ; or assert that possessing inferior intel-
lects, they are incapable of deriving advantage from the
general pursuit of knowledge, and therefore must be confined
to a few primary truths, of which man is to be the judge.
The first supposition we leave with the fanaticism that may
have given it birth, and with which it so well harmonizes ;
the second we surrender to those atheistic fools and swindling
politicians who can see no excellence in knowledge, save as it
may minister to their sensual natures, or assist them to cajole

100 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

the people ; while the man who maintains the third, we would
remit to a court of Ladies, with Queen Elizabeth as judge,
Madame De Stael as prosecuting attorney, and Hannah
More, Mrs. Hemans, and other bright spirits of the same
sex, as the jury.

I have dwelt thus at length on the first and most general
object before us in the pursuit of knowledge, because it is
really of the highest and noblest education, common to both
sexes, and unlimited by any thing in their character or dif-
ferent spheres of life.

The second and special object of education, is the prepa-
ration of youth for the particular sphere of action to which
he designs to devote his life. It may seem at first that this
general education of which I have just spoken, as it is most
comprehensive and reaches to the widest range of subjects, so
it should be the only style of training for an immortal mind.
If we regarded man simply as spiritual and immortal, this
might be true ; but when we descend to the practical realities
of life ; when we behold in him a mixed nature, on one side
touching the earth, on the other surveying the heavens, his
bodily nature having its necessities as well as his spiritual,
we find ourselves limited in the manner of education and the
pursuit of knowledge. The division of labor and of objects
of pursuit, is the natural result of these physical necessities
in connection with the imperfection of the human mind and
the constitution of civilized society. It is a part of our men-
tal discipline, that, instead of ascending at once to the region
of intuition — instead of grasping rapidly the truths essential
to our greatest success here, the mind can only master them
by a series of laborious efforts, mounting up, step by step,
until it has attained a vigor of judgment and an amount of
knowledge sufficient to qualify it to act for itself. The child
has grown upon the infant ; the youth upon the child ; and
the man upon the youth. Slowly has the intellect revealed
its power ; by mastering only here and there a single subject,
and that gradually, has it come into a clear light. From its
inability to grasp things in masses, and to ascend at once to

FEMALE EDUCATION. 101

an intuitive view of any one branch of knowledge, springs the
necessity of limiting it clown to a few specific departments of
science, to the mastery of which it must devote much of early
life and opening manhood, before it can gain an acquaintance
with it sufficient to give success.

It is the result also of the natural growth of families into
large societies, that the various pursuits of life should be di-
vided off among classes and individuals. The savage is the
most perfect illustration of the individual pursuit of all the
various objects which, in his view, belong to this earthly
state. Each man is but the likeness of his fellow ; and all
particijiate equally in the business of their wild life. Trades,
professions, the division of employments, are unknown. Their
life is all the same, one trade, profession, employment, from
youth to age. But no sooner does civilization enter, and the
earth become thickly settled, than men approjjriate to them-
selves some specific form of labor. Art is the child of divided
toil ; of trades, professions, of different and limited fields of
thought. All the magnificence of cities, the luxuries and
comforts of refined society, the abundance of physical wealth,
the great works in science, the exalted products of liberal
pursuits, spring from that division of labor which has made
carpenters, merchants, physicians, lawyers. The style of re-
finement, intelligence and art to which this division gives rise,
is far higher than can possibly exist where all the mental
faculties are in every man spread over all the various pursuits
necessary to comfort and progress. With a given quantity,
diffusion is gained only at the cost of depth. They who seek
at once to master all things, become superficial in all. From
such minds, no great products of skill or science can ever pro-
ceed. It is the attribute of Divinity to diffuse itself at once
over all things, and create without exhaustion an unlimited
number of forms. It is imperative on man, from the very
imperfection of his powers, to work slowly ; to act efficiently
only on individual things ; to build up a branch of art ; to
carry forward a science to a high degree of perfection by long
protracted devotion to it as the one leading subject of atten-

102 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES. •

tion. In tills way society gains vastly more than the indi-
vidual loses. As we surrender some rights of liberty thereby
to enjoy a more pei-fect liberty, so we limit ourselves to sepa-
rate pursuits, thereby to secure a grander ultimate result.
What each man accomplishes is not only greater in quantity,
but better in quality, than he could reach by the diiFusion of
his labor. The needle has a finer point, the knife a sharper
edge, the dwelling a nobler architecture, the table a richer
feast, the mind itself a more splendid array of thoughts and
science of the wise ; while on the part of individuals there is
more ample time and greatly increased facilities for the at-
tainment of general intelligence, than could be produced on
any other system.

The bearing of these thoughts on the subject before us is
manifest. This division of labor constitutes the starting-j)oint
for the diverse training of men, and modifies in part all sys-
tems of instruction that cover childhood and youth. There
is, at first, an education common to all. The general invigor-
atiou of the intellect, and the preparation of the mind for the
grand, the highest objects of life on which I first dwelt, em-
brace all the earliest years of youth. There are elements of
power common to all men, and instruments of knowledge
eflFective for both the general pursuits of a liberal education,
and the limited pursuits of physical toil. The education of
the nursery and the school are equally useful to all. But
when you advance much beyond this, far enough to enable
the youth to fix upon his probable line of life, then the ne-
cessity of an early application to that pursuit at once modifies
his course of education. For there are some things which are
peculiarly desirable to some professions, that are only matters
of general interest to others, and not at all necessary to com-
plete success. The mathematical education of West Point,
with the practical application of the principles of that science
to fortification, gunnery, surveying, and astronomical calcula-
tions, is admirably adapted to fit men for the work of national
defense ; but it is not so necessary to enable a man to be an
efficient farmer or an able lawver. A thorough knowledge of

FEMALE EDUCATION. 103

vegetable cliemistry by the former ; a careful training in the
classics, in the abstract principles of mathematics and the
history and the law of the past, on the part of the latter, will
much better prepare them for their peculiar duties than the
science of strategy and the art of flinging cannon balls. To
the physician, an acquaintance with natural science, the an-
atomy and pathology of the human frame ; to the clergyman,
a mastery of the ancient languages, as those in which the
word of God was originally written, or the gi^andest produc-
tions of the past embodied ; to the merchant, a profound
acquaintance with the laws of trade, the commerce of the
world, and the laws which control it, the products of different
climes and the modes of intercommunication, are most appro-
priate and necessaiy to the perfection of their professions. It
is in this way that education, after it has proceeded to some
extent on the general idea first advanced of preparation for
all of life both here and hereafter, begins to diverge sooner or
later in each case, to meet the various pursuits of a civilized
society.

When then we pass from these diverse professions, into
which the growth of civilized society has divided men, to the
distinctions which exist between man and woman, we enter
upon a still clearer department of our subject. The differ-
ences which are here to give character to education, are not
incidental and temporary, but inherent and commensurate
with life itself. The physical constitution of woman gives
rise to her peculiar life. It determines alike her position in
society and her sphere of labor. In her form, grace and
beauty predominate over strength. The most unpracticed
eye would never confound the elements of beauty in the
Venus with the signs of strength in the Hercules. Her form
addresses what may be called a higher principle than his.
The one speaks to our unsophisticated sense of jDhysical love-
liness and shadows forth that which is spiritual ; the other
appeals to that sense of fear by which we appreciate great
power. As in her form she declares that which is most lovely,
so in her passionate nature she is peculiarly rich in sympathy

104 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES,

and tender emotion. Affection, compassion, sweetness, pre-
vail in her composition. Her heart, in its best state, is the
wind lyre from which both the breeze and the tempest extract
strains of ravishing melody. In all ages and climes — cele-
brated by travelers, historians, poets — she stands forth as a
being of better impulses and nobler affections than him of
whom she is the complement. That which is rugged in him,
is tempered by softness in her ; that which is strong in him,
is weak in her ; that which is fierce in him, is mild in her.
Designed of Grod to complete the cycle of human life, and
through a twofold being present a perfect Adam, she is thus
no less different from man than essential to his perfection.
Her nature at once introduces her into a peculiar sphere of
action. Soon maternal cares rest upon her ; her throne is
above the family circle ; her scepter of love and authority
holds together the earliest and happiest elements of social
life. To her come young minds for sympathy, for care, for
instruction. Over that most wonderful process of develop-
ment, when a young immortal is growing every day into new
thoughts, emotions and habits which are to abide with it for
ever, she presides. By night she watches, by day she instructs.
Her smile and her frown are the two strongest powers on
earth, influencing human minds in the hour when influence
stamps itself upon the heart in eternal characters. It is from
this point of view, you behold the glorious purpose of that
attractive form embosoming a heart enriched with so copious
a treasure of all the sweetest elements of life. She is destined
to fill a sphere of the noblest kind. In the course of her life,
in the training of a household, her nature reveals an excellence
in its adaptation to the purpose for which she is set apart,
that signally illustrates the wisdom of God, while it attracts
the homage of man. Scarcely a nobler position exists in this
world, than that of a truly Christian mother, surrounded by
children grown up to maturity ; molded by her long discip-
line of instruction and affectionate authority into true-hearted,
intelligent men and women ; the ornaments of society, the
pillars of religion ; looking up to her with a reverent affection

FEMALE EDUCATION, 105

that grows deeper with the passage of time , while she quietly
waits the advent of death, in the assurance that, in these
living representatives, her work will shine on for ages on earth,
and her influence spread itself beyond the broadest calculation
of human reason, when she has been gathered to the just.

How then are we to educate this being a little lower than
the angels ; tliis being thus separated from the rest of the
world, and divided off, by the finger of God writing it upon
her nature, to a peculiar and a most noble office-work in so-
ciety ? It is not as a lawyer, to wrangle in courts ; it is not
as a clergyman, to preach in our pulpits ; it is not as a phy-
sician, to live day and night in the saddle and sick room ; it
is not as a soldier to go forth to battle ; it is not as a me-
chanic, to lift the ponderous sledge and sweat at the burning
furnace ; it is not as a farmer, to drive the team afield and
upturn the rich bosom of the earth. These arts and toils of
manhood, are foreign to her gentle nature, alien to her feebler
constitution, and inconsistent with her own high office as the
mother and primary educator of the race. If their pursuits
are jDcrmitted to modify their education, so as to prepare
them for a particular field of labor, proceeding upon the same
supi30sition, it is equally just and appropriate, that her train-
ing should take its complexion from the sphere of life she is
destined to fill. So far as it is best education should be spe-
cific, it should have reference to her perfect qualification for
her appropriate work. This work has two departments. The
first, which is most limited, embraces the routine of house-
wifery and the management of the ordinary concerns of do-
mestic life. This office-work, important indeed in itself, and
essential to a well-educated woman, will, nevertheless, be
better learned under the practical guidance of an accom-
plished mother within the precincts of home, than in public
institutions devoted to literature. I need not speak of it here
as an element entering into the educational process of this
institution, or modifying at all the course of study appropri-
ate for the female mind. But the second department of her
duties, as it is the most imj)ortant, so it must be regarded

106 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

and exalted in any gnligliteued system of female education.
It is as the center of social influence ; the genial power of
domestic life ; the soul of refinement ; the clear, shining orb,
beneath whose beams the germs of thought, feeling and habit
in young immortals are to vegetate and grow to maturity ;
the ennobling companion of man, his light in darkness, his
.joy in sorrow, uniting her practical judgment with his specu-
lative wisdom, her enthusiastic affection with his colder na-
ture, her delicacy of taste and sentiment with his boldness,
and so producing a happy mean, a whole character natural,
beautiful and strong ; it is as filling these high offices that
woman is to be regarded and treated in the attempt to edu-
cate her.

The description of her sphere of life at once suggests the
character of her training. Whatever in science, literature
and art is best adapted to prejjare her to fill this high posi-
tion with greatest credit, and S23read farthest around it her
appropriate influence, belongs of right to her education. Her
intellect is to be thoroughly disciplined, her judgment ma-
tured, her taste refined, her power of connected and just
thought developed, and a love for knowledge imparted, so
that she may possess the ability and the desire for future prog-
ress. To effect this admirable discipline of mind, it is neces-
sary her understanding should be exercised in the analysis
and mastery of various branches of science ; or at least to
some extent brought into communion with a selection of
choice studies from the vast store-house of materials which
the patient toil of the past has gathered. To the finest
development of the intellect, a close attention to several
branches of learning, necessitating the vigorous exercise of
all the powers of the mind in different directions, is indis-
pensable. Copiousness, accuracy and power are gained at the
cost of protracted study extended over various subjects. For
woman, therefore, it is allowable to exercise a generous eclec-
ticism in the selection of the subjects for her study ; and
from all the branches of knowledge choose those which, not
being exclusively technical and professional in their nature,

I

FEMALE EDUCATION. 107

are such as will most admirably strengthen and unfold her
intellect, without cramping it down to any single division of
science. Rising above the ordinary pursuits of men, she
should be peraiitted to select her discipline from the entire
range of human knowledge, in accordance with the general
idea of education which I first advanced. Her work is gen-
eral, covering not a particular trade or profession, but the
whole of our earlier existence in its preparation for the busi-
ness of time and the upholding and preparation of men in all
stages of life for their chosen pursuit. As her work is to
accomplish a common good for all, so her discipline may be
general, preparing her most easily to eflPect this hajopy result
If then, in addition to the elementary branches of a good
English education, some attention to mathematics will in-
crease the power of abstraction and continuous thought ; if
astronomy, chemistry, and geology, unfolding the nature of
the universe, will exalt her conceptions of her Creator and
give her enlarged views of the world she inhabits as his crea-
ture ; if mental and moral philosophy will assist her to a
juster appreciation of her own powers, and a more logical
analysis of her obligations to God and man ; if botany will
reveal more perfectly the structure of those beautiful foi'ms
painted by the divine pencil and rich in suggestions of divine
skill ; if music and painting will furnish her a fine recreation,
a power of influence over others at once refining and delight-
ful ; if the languages which contain the varied literature of
France and Germany, will augment her knowledge of the
world, and prepare her for intercourse with a larger circle of
mind in this heterogeneous nation of ours ; if the ancient
classics, in which dwell as grand and beautiful forms of
thought as mind uninspired has ever wrought out, will in-
crease her power of analysis, correct a false taste, imj)art
copiousness, strength and purity to her compositions, and
lead her into a fuller knowledge of the past worlds of civili-
zation ; if history will acquaint her with her race and the
providence of God toward it, poetry discipline her imagi-
nation, and composition concentrate her thoughts and give

108 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

ability freely to communicate them ; if to exercise her mind
in some one or all of these modes of intellectual discipline,
will better fit her for future life, why shall it not be per-
mitted her to the full extent of her pecuniary ability, or
within the limitations which the rapidly passing years of
youth prescribe ? Who will say that this Eefiner of the
world, this Minister of the holiest and happiest influences to
man, shall be condemned to the scantiest store of intellectual
preparation for an entertainment so large and noble ? Is it
true that a happy ignorance is the best qualification for a
woman's life ; that in seeking to exalt the fathers and sons,
we are to begin by the degradation of the mothers and daugh-
ters ? Is there any thing in that life incomj^atible with the
noblest education, or which such an education will not en-
noble and adorn ? We are not seeking in all this to make
of our daughters profound historians, poets, philosophers,
linguists, authors. Success of this high character in these
pursuits, is usually the result of an ardent devotion for years
to some one of them, for which it is rarely a female has the
requisite opportunities. But should they choose occasionally
some particular walk of literature, and by the power of genius
vivify and adorn it ; should there be found here and there
one with an intense enthusiasm for some high pursuit, com-
bined with that patient toil which, associated with a vigorous
intellect, is the Avell-spring of so many glorious streams of
science, should not such a result of this enlarged education be
hailed as the sign of its excellence, and rejoiced in as the
proof of its power ? The Mores, the Hemanses, the De
Staels, and others among the immortal dead and the living
who compose that bright galaxy of female wit sliining ever
refulgent, have they added nothing to human life, and given
no quick upward impulse to the world ? Besides, that sys-
tem of education which, in occasional instances, uniting with
a material of peculiar excellence, is sufficient to enkindle an
orb whose light j)assing far beyond the circle of home, shall
shine upon a great assembly of minds, will only be powerful,
in the multitude of cases, to impart that intellectual disci-

FEMALE EDUCATION. 109

pline, that refinement of thought, that power of expression,
that sympathy with and taste for knowledge, which will best
prepare her for her position, and enable her in after life to
carry forward her own improvement and that of her associ-
ated household.

The finest influence of such an education is in the devel-
opment of a character at once symmetrical, refined, vigorous,
confident in its own resources, yet penetrated with a con-
sciousness of its distance from the loftiest heights of power ;
a character which will be an ennobling life in a household,
gently influencing others into quiet paths of excellence ; to
be felt rather than seen, to be understood rather in its results
than admired for any manifest attainments in science ; an
intellect informed, active, in sympathy with what is known
and read among men ; able to bear its part in healthful dis-
cussions, yet not presuming to dictate its opinions ; in the
presence of which ignorance becomes enlightened and weak-
ness strong ; creating around its home an atmosphere of taste
and intelligence, in which the rudest life loses some of its as-
perity, and the roughest toils much of their severity. Such
is the form of female character we seek to create by so enlarged
an education.

To some, it may seem incongruous to impart so elevated
an education to those whose domestic duties, as the wives of
farmers and mechanics, will forestall the prosecution of their
studies in after life. The time was, indeed, when the clerk
and the baron were the readers and writers, while the peasant
must abide in his ignorance. That day is past. Labor is
rising to its true nobility ; or rather, I should say, since labor
in itself hath neither meanness nor glory, that the immortal
mind of man is vindicating its right to intelligence ; and so,
whenever it struggles up into knowledge, or great mental
power, it crowns even physical toil with a portion of its own
dignity. The way to elevate the world, is to give the young
mind a fair opportunity for development. Start it right, dis-
cipline it well, before it has to grapple with the personal cares
of a family, and its future will be easily read. No style of

110 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

business, no rudeness of toil, no pressure of domestic respon-
sibilities, can fling the soul back into its original ignorance,
or take from it a certain nobility and strength imparted to it
by such early discipline. Yea,' m'ore. than this ; the female
mind, thus educated, will most probably ever after live in
sympathy with all that is most ennobling in thought and
beautiful in nature ; gathering around her as ever present
friends, some genial minds embalmed in history, poetry and
philosophy, with whom the log cabin shall possess as true a
refinement as the noblest palace ; while over her sons and
daughters she will not fail to shed an influence elevating and
pure. To suppose that a just education, well arranged in all
its parts, will in any way unfit her for the homely duties,
which in many cases may belong to her future life, is to libel
the influence of intelligence upon the human mind. The as-
sociation of meanness with toil, of degradation with physical
labor, is not the growth of an enlightened education, but of a
barbarous age and slavish institutions. Whenever the lead-
ing idea of this discourse — the duty of every human being to
be as thoroughly educated as his opportunities will permit —
penetrates the community, then dignity and honor are trans-
ferred from supei^ficial and transient qualities to the mind and
heart. Let these be cultivated, and their possessor rises to
the dignity of a prince, whatever may be his occupation. It
is not the trade or work that gives or takes away honor, but
the character of the man himself that consecrates or defiles
whatever he touches. What were Franklin, Sherman, Whit-
ney ? Printers ! shoemakers ! machinists ! A host of such
minds at this hour have risen over the world, and are pouring
their light into the dark corners thereof. The man who has
wrought his eight hours a day at the anvil, will work eight
more at the burning forge of thought, and fling his masses of
truth red hot iipon the mind of his countrymen. Has learn-
ing taught him to despise his vocation ; or has it not ennobled
it ? An ignorant and an evil-hearted man has all the ele-
ments of meanness, place him where you will. Station can
neither exalt or degrade him. But an intelligent, right-

FEMALE EDUCATION. Ill

hearted man has all the elements of a dignity that will adorn
a lofty station and elevate that which is low. No loell edu-
cated woman will ever think it beneath her to perform all
those domestic offices which are essential to the comfort, the
health and the prosperity of her family. She will glory in
doing all things well, and shed around the most homely toils
the elevation and charm of a polished, thoughtful intellect
and pure heart. Such is the training we seek for the female
mind.

The closing topic of this address will vindicate its own
preeminent importance. The education of the heart reaches
deeper, and spreads its influence farther, than all things else.
The intellect is only a beautiful piece of mechanism, until
the affections pour into it their tremendous vitality, and send
it forth in all directions instinct with power. When the
" dry-light" of the understanding is penetrated by the liquid
light of the emotions, it becomes both light and heat, power-
ful to vivify, quicken, and move all things. In woman, the
scepter of her chief power springs from the affections. En-
dowed most richly with sensibility — with all the life of varied
and vigorous impulse and deep affection, she needs to have
early inwrought, through a powerful self-discipline, an entire
command of her mobile nature. There are few more incon-
gruous and sadly affecting things than a woman of fine intel-
lect and strong passions, without self-control or true religious
feeling. She is like a ship whose rudder is unhung ; she is
like a horse, rapid, high-spirited, untamed to the bridle ; or
higher still, she is like a cherub fallen from its sphere of glory,
with no attending seraph, without law, without the control
of love, whose course no intelligence can anticipate and no
vvdsdom guide. Keligion seems to have in woman its most
appropriate home. To her are appointed many hours of pain,
of trial, of silent communion with her own thoughts. Sepa-
rated, if she act the true woman, from many of the stirring
scenes in which man mingles, she is admirably situated to
nourish a life of love and faith within the circle of her own
home. Debarred from the pursuits which furnish so quick-

112 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

ening an excitement to the other sex, she either is confined to
the r(jutine of domestic life and the quiet society of a social
circle, O]- devotes herself to those frivolous pleasures which
enervate while they excite, which, like the inspiration of the
wine-cup, are transient in' their joy, but deep and lasting in
their evil. But when Eeligion enters her heart it opens a new
and that the grandest array of objects. It imparts a new
element of thought, a wonderful depth and earnestness of
character. It elevates before her an ennobling object, and
enlists her fine sensibilities, emotions and affections in its
pursuit. Coming thus through religion into harmony with
Grod, she ascends to the highest position a woman can occupy
in this world.

As religion itself should be limited to no one period, so
the discij)line of the heart should be commensurate with life
itself Beginning with the opening aifections of childhood,
it should kindly press upon the soul all through its earthly
career. No system of education begins to approach com-
jileteness, or is even tolerable, that excludes religious influ-
ences and educates the individual for this world alone. Ne-
glecting the grandest jiart of man, on which the image of his
Creator is most visibly impressed, and by which his destiny
for eternity is to be affected, it resembles a system of astron-
omy with the sun, moon and planets omitted ; a system of
geography without the continents, and of anatomy deprived
of the skull and vertebra. In this country, one of oiu' dan-
gers lies in this direction. Our liberality in the indulgence
of all religious opinions sometimes degenerates into the prac-
tical neglect of all religious influences in the education of
youth. To purge off the taint of sectarianism and hush the
anathema of infidelity, the Bible, prayer, and the holiest in-
fluence of divine religion, are not unfrequently surrendered.
A mistake more fatal to all true elevation of character, a
practical error more pernicious to the highest interests of the
State,- it were difficult to conceive. The ultimate basis of all
things most stable and excellent in society is religious prin-
ciple and the habits to which it gives rise. Take these away,

FEMALE EDUCATION, 113

and the foundation for the abutments on which rests the
great arch of the finest civil and social state is removed. But
to secure this deep and broad foundation for the future, it is
indispensable that religion should enter the heart and truth
enthrone itself in the intellect, when in childhood and youth
those habits of thought and feeling are formed which are to
remain for ever. At this period, a happy religious discipline,
instruction in the word of God and the great duties of life,
are the right of every child, which neither parents nor teach-
ers can fail to impart without a grievous, because an immor-
tal wrong. Above all, in such an institution as this, should
religion, free from the narrowness of sect, proceeding on those
grand truths which form the basis of our responsibility for
this world and the next, shed a genial influence over those
who here pursue the path of science.

To woman should Christianity be especially dear. It has
led her out of the house of bondage ; it has lifted her from
the stool of the servant to an equality with the master ; it
has exalted her from the position of a mere minister of sen-
sual pleasure, the toy of a civilized paganism, to a full com-
panionship with man ; it has given her soul — once spurned,
degraded, its immortality doubted, its glory eclipsed — a price-
less value ; and shed around her whole character the ladiance
of heaven. Let pure religion create the atmosphere around
a woman's spirit, and breathe its life into her heart ; let it
refine her aifections, sanctify her intellect, elevate her aims,
and hallow her physical beauty ; let it mold her early char-
acter by its rich influences, and cause the love of Jehovah to
c(msecrate all earthly love, and she is indeed to our race, of
all the gifts of time, the last and best, the crown of our glory,
the perfection of our life.

It is with such objects in view, this institution has been
established. Its great design is to impart to all who may
attend upon its exercises, according to the time they shall
devote to it, a thorough, elevated. Christian education ; a
discipline for the body, mind and heart, most appropriate to
that high position which woman is to occupy and adorn. To

114 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

effect this purpose, while the advantages of this institution
are open to all who may choose to avail themselves of them
for even a brief period, }'et it is especially designed to afford
those who are willing to spend the time requisite for the
attainment of the object, a course of study os full and com-
plete, an education as thorough, comprehensive, liberal and
elevated, as the best institutions at the East can bestow. It
is not to be questioned that we need and that we are ripe for
institutions of this character. It is high time that the West
should not only train its own daughters, but enjoy educational
advantages large enough to place us on a level with any other
section of our country. We wish to rear up institutions of
such an elevated character as will make a western in all re-
spects equal to an eastern education. We wish to build up
an institution here, and to see others rising in other parts of
this country, which, while they will abundantly impart all
those outward accomplishments in which the seminaries of
Papists have been supposed to excel, will also afford an edu-
cation such as, in its discipline, elevation and results, their
narrow system of instruction can not at all reach. We wish,
in short, to make this seminary a model institution of female
education, to which our daughters from all parts of this land
shall resort, as the chosen home of all that is best adapted to
enlarge the mind, purify the heart, polish the manners, and
prepare them for the large sphere of their duties. At great
expense these buildings have been reared ; a large and com-
petent band of instructors are engaged to carry out the great
purposes of such an institution. At their head is a gentleman
who for many years has devoted himself with signal success
to the work of instruction. In addition to these advantages,
the location of this institution is preeminently adapted to
make it most useful. In near proximity to the largest city
of the West, yet so secluded from its noise, dust, smoke and
artificial excitements as to furnish that solitude which is most
necessary to the formation of profound habits of reflection ;
in the midst of one of the wealthiest, healthiest and most
populous regions of the State ; crowning the summit of these

J

FEMALE EDUCATION. 115

pleasant hills, from which you look down upon a busy world
wholly separated from you ; on a spot set apart by the pres-
ence of a kindred institution to study, to reflection, to im-
provement, it would seem as if here were collected all the
materials necessary to constitute the finest position for the
healthful development of the female mind. The single cir-
cumstance of its situation in the country is not of small
moment. The country ! What associations of peace and
quietude, of communion with nature in her most innocent
and ennobling forms, cluster about that word ! The coun-
try ! the nurse of great men and noble women ; the mother
of the mass of those who in church and state, by the fireside
and in the counting-room, have been most distinguished for
independence, for acuteness and true nobility of life. The
city abounds ^vith so many objects of attraction and distrac-
tion ; with so many frivolous and superficial excitements,
that it is the most unsuitable place in the world for the
formation of an independent, vigorous, profound and lofty
character. The mind of childhood becomes developed into a
premature smartness ; in attaining a superficial activity, it
seems to lose the jjower of reaching deep, accurate and origi-
nal tho&ght. Far better is it to nurse the intellect and the
heart where the trees lift their enormous tops heavenward,
and the wind makes its own free music among their branches ;
where the fields spread out their verdant bosoms, and hill and
vale proclaim the handiwork of the Lord most high. Here,
when spring has carpeted the earth and clothed the trees, and
flowers grow spontaneously under the care of the great gar-
dener of the universe, will our youth go forth to enjoy the
presence of God in his most glorious works. Here, when
autumn's leaves strew the earth and winter winds wail
through these forests, will they learn to turn their thoughts
within, and cherish those habits of thought and reflection in
sympathy with a life so full of mutations and limited to our
eyes by the grave. Here, for many years to come, may the
mothers and the educators of generations of noble American
youth, listen to lessons of wisdom and prepare for their high

116 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

destiny. Here, may there be set forth a system of education
befitting the free, bold, manly intellect of this new world ;
by which the daughters of Christian freemen may form their
hearts and minds to a style of character as noble, elevated
and original as the circumstances of their country are exalted
and unique in the world's history. When those who to-day
set apart this structure to these high purposes shall have
been gathered to the just ; when the city, whose busy hum
now rises on the still morning air, shall have swollen to its
million of inhabitants ; and the State to half as many as this
entire Union now contains ; and the multitudes that now
move upon its surface are all sleeping in the tomb, then may
this institution still flourish, enlarged, advancing to meet and
lead on advancing humanity, educating future generations for
the noble sphere of woman's life here, and the sublime destiny
of the kingdom of God hereafter.

lY.

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION.*

It was the request of the Board of Trustees of this Semi-
nary, that I should address you on this occasion, last year.
For that engagement preparation had been made, when the
providence of Grod prevented its fulfillment. A disease whose
advent and departure were alike robed in mystery, in its
second journey around the globe, had reached our shores.
Unheralded, it entered our towns and cities ; its invisible
breath prostrated thousands ; its awful presence, felt rather
than seen, or seen only in the terrible results of its power,
spread the gloom of the grave-yard and the stillness of the
Sabbath through our streets. The thronged marts of trade
were solitary, the arm of industry was paralyzed, the ham-
mer rang faintly on the anvil, the hum of untiring labor died
away, the streams of life that rushed through our avenues
gave place to the solitary tread of the physician, the rattling
of the hearse, and the slow-moving procession of mourners.
The teacher dismissed his scholars to their homes ; the father
gathered his family about him to wait together the issue ; the
pastor knew no rest while he ministered to the dying — per-
fonned the rites of sepulcher for the dead, and sought to com-
fort the living. In the midst of such a calamity, it neither
became me to forsake my post for a day to fulfill my engage-
ment in this city, nor was it possible for you to engage in the
usual celebration of this anniversary. The address originally
prepared for you, was subsequently delivered in another place
and committed to the press. It would not be proper for me

* An address delivered at the anniversary of the Cooper Female Academy,
July 17, 1850.

118 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

now to repeat that discussion or follow out substantially tlie
same train of thouglit. But there was a division of the gen-
eral subject on which I then was unable to dwell, that it is
proposed to discuss on this occasion. In doing this, I may
have occasion to speak more of the subjects of Education than
of the theory. In this there is one advantage. The theory
of Education is old ; it has often been developed by minds of
the largest power in every age. But the subjects of Educa-
tion are always new, fresh, rosy, joyous. They are always
young. Generation succeeds generation, or rather, the wave
of life behind melts into that before so impercejjtibly that you
can not mark the point of passage ; the new wave follows on,
until ere it has dashed upon the shore, a hundred others have
lifted their crests in pursuit. So childhood, ere it has grown
to manhood or old age, beholds other childhoods, fresh and
bright, chasing it onward. There is no stay, no growing old
here. The laughing girl and careless boy are always in the
foreground of life. Their merry voices, their light footsteps,
their sunny brows are always new. Manhood looks back
upon them with pride ; old age grows young in their pres-
ence. They melt the frost from the heart ; they unbind the
cords of etiquette ; they ungird the robe of artificial life ;
they bring us back to our original simplicity. Nature asserts
through them her right in us. We wish we were boys and
girls again ; we would play ball in the same green ; skate on
the same pond ; gather nuts in the same woods ; rush from
the old school house with the same wild, uproarious merri-
ment ; we would believe in quaint old Santa Claus again,
and dream of his treasures, and hang our stockings before the
wide-mouthed kitchen fire place in kindness to his yellow
Christmas coat ; we would put our faith in Jack the giant
killer, with his wondrous bean-pole, and seven-leagued boots
and all the exhaustless treasures which our imaginations once
discovered in the golden castles of our boyhood, if it were but
for an hour. Refreshing it is to our hearts, disgusted with
the artificial forms, and cold selfishness of society, to meet
the blessed creduhty of the child, and the vigorous hope of

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 119

youtli ; to watch the young blood quicken in their veins and
see the overflow of life, too soon to be confined within narrow
conventionalities, and finally sink away into nerveless and
trembling age.

Shakespeare divides life into seven ages. Of these, three
belong to Education, considered with respect to this life.
These ages in which the young life prepares for its work, are
designated by the nursery, the school, and society. Allowing
from twenty-four to thirty years as the period within which
most persons attain a fully developed character, from eight to
ten years may be assigned to each one of these ages. The first
has its chief influence from the nursery ; the second from the
school ; the third from society. Let us first visit the nursery.

Babyhood and childhood, what are they but instinct and
animal propensity ? What have they to do with intelligent
Education ? Much every way. They are wonderful absorb-
ents of knowledge ; they gain more intelligence than the
other ages can bestow, and hold it much longer than that
acquired subsequently. That infant, outwardly all animal,
is a most diligent student. Smile upon it, and see its soul
smiling in return ; frown, and lo ! the eyes redden with tears.
The babe is a student of physiognomy, and through that of
the human spirit. Its mother's countenance is its first sun
of science. Here all knowledge is centered. It entertains the
profound idea of another spirit responsive to its own, months
and even years before it can express such an idea in fitting
language. Witness now its growth ! It studies language.
It masters the elements of articulate sound ; it lisps the two
simplest, dearest of words ; instinctively it imitates human
speech ; the tongue grows lithe, the organs of voice are grad-
ually trained to their work, till at length it has acquired the
wonderful faculty of speech. In less than two years it has
made larger advances in the acquisition of intelligent power,
than the noblest brute ever did in all its life. It has begun,
also, the study of physics, gymnastics, philosophy and morals.
It begins to calculate distances ; for the appreciation of dis-
tance is a matter of judgment. To the eye opened to sight

120 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

from a congenital blindness, all things seem alike near. The
child studies the qualities of things. The difference between
a fall on a carpet or a stone reveals the soft and the hard. By
sundry infallible experiments, it solves that great problem in
philosophy, viz : that fire will burn ; understands its qualities
after the first burned finger, as well as Liebig himself, and
never forgets them. It investigates the operation of the
gases, particularly hydrogen and oxygen when combined as
water, and is as fully convinced of their power to produce
suffocation, the first time the head is fairly dipped under, as
Sir Humphrey Davy could be. Gravitation it investigates in
various ways ; but the great experiment which most effectu-
ally determines the question, is a tumble down stairs. Grym-
nastics very early claim attention. Legs and arms let off the
superfluous activity months before the infant stands upright
What a proud day was that, parent, when your first-bora
began to walk ? to tread the earth no longer a feeble infant,
but a self-sustaining, well-balanced little humanity ! How
many trials in balancing ! how many experiments preceded
this feat, more magnificent than the most skillful exercises of
the rope dancer !

At length this young walker and talker becomes a thinker
He questions every one ; he pries into every thing. His
" why ?" " why T' shows that he is as intent upon studying
causation as were ever Hume or Brown. He hears every
thing uttered ; he ponders many a mystery that manhood
can not unfold. The whole of nature solicits his attention ;
his young intellect labors to get beneath the surface. Soon
he experiments in various directions. He digs and plants,
and then pulls up the germs to see liow they grow. He turns
mechanic, constructs, demolishes and rebuilds at pleasure.
Again he studies engineering, momentum, and curves ; and
the best way to drive his arrow at the mark or his ball at his
brother's back. He fashions his kite, sends it afloat, gaining
a practical acquaintance with the resolution of forces, accom-
plishing a feat for him as great as that of Franklin, when
by a similar contrivance, he brought the lightning from the

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 121

clouds. Thus day by day, this restless spirit pushes itself
out into the world of nature, gaining for the mind knowledge,
for the hand skill, for the body vigor.

Meanwhile in the house another and higher style of Edu-
cation is going on. He is beginning to understand the ideas
of authority, of right, of truth, of generosity, of benevolence,
of self-restraint, of manliness, of purity, of holiness, of God.
For the outward and physical is only secondary ; that which
is moral and religious is primary. The first constitutes the
form, the dress of life, mere external civilization ; the second,
the inward accomplishments of a soul with reference to eter-
nity. Here then in these first ten years of his existence, a
great part of the work in both departments must be effected.
Moral influences mold the child day by day. As thought
awakens, the passions kindle and the will gi'ows strong, the
l^arent watches, controls, indulges, limits, directs. Habit be-
gins its lifelong reign. Impressions grave themselves upon
the heart ; prejudices possess the intellect ; disposition un-
folds, and the child takes the direction which manhood is to
pursue. Between the child on the one hand, his parents, the
family and the natural world on the other, there is at work,
a silent, steady, unintermitted process of action and reaction.
The inherent activity of the child, his exuberant energy,
pushes him forward against everybody and every thing. Mind,
affections, body, are all intensely vigorous. You wonder how
such unceasing activity can be found in so small a compass.
You have heard of experiments in perpetual motion, but now
you see it without an experiment, to your perfect satisfaction.
You are astonished at the style in which the youngster will
labor to effect a cherished purpose ; the arguments, the prom-
ises, the tears brought to bear upon your opposite determina-
tion. The perverse activities of his growing spirit keep you
ever on the look out. You seize hold of one and rein it in,
when lo ! another has pushed forth in a different direction.
The guide of a child in this nursery age must be all eye, all
ear, all hand, all thought, all love, all devotion and all pa-
tience. This is peculiarly the season of spontaneous activity.

122 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

It is the luxury of new life and vigorous health. It is the
age of knowledge acquired without application ; of acquisi-
tion without conscious effort ; when the external world is a
novelty ; when moral ideas are novel ; when, like the forms
in a kaleidoscope, the earth daily assumes some new shape of
beauty to attract the young soul to itself. At this period the
foundations are laid. In this spontaneous action, while as
yet all is unformed in the expanding soul, the outlines of
character are traced ; the direction and general form is given,
which can never be wliolly changed ; which can be par-
tially modified only with great difficulty. It is within this
j)eriod, the parent's chief work in Education should be per-
formed.

Into this work two things enter. The one is direct guid-
ance, instruction and restraint ; the other the silent influences
and attractions of personal character. The graj)e vine in
spring pushes forth its branches with great vigor in all direc-
tions. These for a time must receive support, direction and
occasional pruning. Left to swing in the wind or twine them-
selves round whatever they may be near, is to expose them
to ruin or greatly injure their productiveness. The place of
every branch should be fixed long before it has grown into it.
So the young spirit in the wild exuberance of its growth, de-
mands the sustaining judgment and correcting hand of a
parent. Its place should be fixed ; whatever is evil controlled
or removed, and right habits formed long before it attains
maturity. For after it leaves the parent, it must pass into
the hands of another husbandman, whose restraints and cor-
rections may be severe and terrible. The young vine, how-
ever, must have more than guidance, support and restraint.
The sun must shine upon it. In the shade, in darkness, it
grows rapidly but feebly. Its joints are long ; its body thin ;
its fruitbearing powers are almost wholly destroyed. The
wann sun totally changes its character ; condenses its juices,
retards its outward growth ; enlarges its fruitbuds, and invig-
orates it for the work of presenting to the vine-dresser a lus-
cious and abundant crop. Now the silent influences of pa-

THE THKEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 123

rental character in the nursery are to young souls what the
rays of the sun are to the young vine. They rest upon them
quietly ; they act steadily and without interruption ; they
excite no opposition and can receive none ; they insinuate
themselves so like the light, into the heart of the young, that
without understanding it the children are gradually molded
and affected thereby. Good principles, the seed of future
power ; good habits, the form of future developments ; good
dispositions, the elements of after fruitfulness ; a secret force
of self-command and moral heroism, a strength of will for the
right and powerlessness for the wrong ; a love of truth and
integrity of spirit ; the recognition of authority and the habit
of obedience to the iafinite ; all these, which in their ripeness
constitute the noblest character, are foimed and strengthened
in the heart and mind mainly by the influences of parental
teaching and exam/ple. The parents are the sun to the young
heart. For a time they stand to it in the place of God.
Through them heaven pours its earliest and selectest influ-
ences upon the spirit. The beaming countenance, the tone
of voice, the manner, the whole of a parent's life then affects
it deeply. The mother is transparent to the child, long be-
fore the latter is to the former. The one is a great recipient ;
the other a great communicant. The one is to be fashioned
and is therefore sensible to the least breath of influence ; the
other already fashioned is giving forth the plastic power.
Thus if the parent be a true sun of pure and living light, the
child will generally develop a character which, so far as hu-
man culture can effect it, will be prepared for the further
work of education and of life. Such is the first age. The
work of the nursery is the foundation of all the future, the
most difficult and important, demanding the finest powers
and issuing in the noblest results. No after training can fully
correct a vicious nursery education. The form is given, that
in the main is to last for ever. A noble work this ; worthy
the noblest beings and the noblest powers, to preside over the
formation of the character of a soul and make impressions
that are not only to abide themselves, but which in long un-

124 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

folding series are to produce fruits in others — fruits equally-
excellent and abiding.

Let us advance now to the second age of education — the
School. The chief work of childhood has been accomplished ;
but however essential it is yet imperfect, however lasting it
is only the foundation for the superstructure. As yet all the
knowledge is elementary. The mind in its excursions has
taken note only of external things ; it has mastered that
which is most necessary to its physical and moral well-being,
but it is far from that complete preparation which the busi-
ness of life demands. It has gained a superficial acquaintance
w^ith external nature ; but so has the savage. It has gained
the elements of religious knowledge ; but were it to remain
in that condition, limited to those elements, it would remain
a child for ever. It has now to go beyond the surface and
learn the secret composition and relations of natural objects.
The idea of authority, obligation, obedience, has been wrought
into the soul ; it has now to learn what constitutes the tine
foundation of authority, what is the extent of obligation and
the bounds of obedience due different authorities. Ignorant
on these subjects, the individual becomes the slave of preju-
dice ; obeying where there is no just authority to command,
disobeying where all the elements of authority exist. Ignor-
ant of the physical world in its secret powers, he is unpre-
pared to take advantage of and combine them so as to jDro-
duce the highest form of civilization and enrich his outward
condition. He has begun to look at the earth on wliich he
dwells ; he is now to study its extent, its structure, its divis-
ions, its laws. He sees above him planets and stars moving
in silent majesty ; he is now to investigate their laws of mo-
tion and light, and ascertain the position which the earth
occupies among these countless worlds. He has begun to
know himself, his family ; he must now enlarge his view,
spread his mind over states and nations, over the history of
the past and the multiform asjDCcts of the present. He has
learnt the first principles of law, justice, integrity, benevo-
lence ; he must now proceed to ascertain their foundations

THE THKEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 125

and relations ; to behold their operation in society ; to dis-
cover the source of the evils that afflict the world, the experi-
ments that have failed, and the fountains from whence the
bloody streams of war have ever flowed ; to understand the
various institutions of civil society, the rise of nations in
power, and religion, the causes which, working secretly for long
ages, have most corrupted or most blessed mankind. He has
begun to compass the elements of religious science, but now
he is to enter upon the study of the higher truths of a spirit-
ual world as they are found in the wide field of natural The-
ology— the all-embracing providence of Jehovah — and the
revelation made in his Word. To these truths, and others of
a similar nature, he is soon to address himself — these he must
in part master or be prepared to master before he can take
his place as an educated man.

In order to make these attainments, certain things are es-
sential— 1. The youth must gather together and pass in re-
view the facts, in the just combination of which all advanced
science consists. These are to science as stones, brick and
timber to a building. They are not science, any more than
these, before being fitly put together, are an edifice, but they
are the essential materials out of which it is constructed.
Without facts there is no knowledge, only fancies, theories,
speculations, variable and fleeting as the clouds. The child
who mistakes the forms in the sky for palaces and angels, is
as just in his opinions as the man who takes the forms of his
imagination for substantial realities. The neglect of facts,
the disposition to create their appearances, and weave the-
ories out of the brain alone, kept the world in darkness and
held science back for centuries. The simple law of induction
— letting facts reveal the law and not the law mold the
facts — has given an amazing impulse to discovery, created
new sciences, overturned fanciful pursuits, and spread abroad
among men the blessings of many admirable inventions.
The disposition to theorize without facts — to generalize from
a single fact or two ; the indisposition to wait for the patient
survey and analysis of a large number of particulars ; the

126 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUESES.

facility with which men can speculate, dream and build air
castles, exists still. All around us are those who live in a
region of theories unestahlished ; who dream in a world of
realities, and at length die martyrs to their zeal in the cause
of ignorance. Let the youth then learn patiently to gather
up the sound materials of science ; let his mind be ever
awake to the forms and realities around him ; let him search
into the secret chambers of nature ; let not appearances
deceive him, but let him learn to wait until that which is
substantial unfolds itself, and he will be jireparing himself
for those rich possessions in science, which will alike ennoble
the intellect, and fit it for usefulness.

2. In immediate connection with this gathering of the
materials follows the training of the mind to use them for
some good purpose. The intellect must be accustomed to
grasp, to combine, to separate, to classify. It must learn to
reason on facts, to reach correct inferences, to make one re-
sult a firm foundation on which to proceed to a higher result.
This power of arresting the processes of thought, of keeping
the imagination in check, of discriminating between the false
and the true, of holding the mind long intent upon a subject,
and then having carefully examined its different aspects, ar-
riving at just conclusions, is that which distinguishes the man
of judgment and true science from the child and the charla-
tan. This power constitutes a possession most precious in
all circumstances. It is an endowment that shines as lus-
trously in private fife as it does in the marts of business, and
adorns as truly the domestic circle as the forum and the pul-
pit. Destitute of this neither man nor woman is fully Edu-
cated.

3. In addition to these attainments, it is essential that the
youth should master the language in which he is to commu-
nicate with his fellow-men. He should investigate its copi-
ous vocabulary, its terms of science, its capacity for subtle
thought — for deep impression — ^for the clear unfolding of his
ideas on all subjects. This he should do in order to the ac-
quirement on the one hand of a pure diction and on the other

THE THEEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 127

of a correct style of composition. The power of expressing
himself in language clear, simple, correct and impressive, is
of great importance. A lame, slovenly, ungrammatical style
of speech, indicates the neglect of the noble instrument of
thought and intercommunication between mind and mind ; a
failure to train aright that fine faculty of language by which
society is so much distinguished and blest. On the other
hand the ability to write correctly, to commit readily and
clearly his thoughts to paper, is of no secondary consequence.
Essential in some pursuits, it is useful in all ; nor can the
youth justly regard himself as fully prepared for life, who has
failed to attain the power of composition. These are three
things which enter into the second style of education. It is
in making these attainments that the mind becomes disci-
plined for the after pursuits of time.

It is obvious that such acquisitions are not made either
naturally, nor easily, nor in a brief period. They are the
product of close application, continued for years and directed
to subjects remote from popular view. They are such things
as the young do not acquire spontaneously ; such as most
parents have neither the time nor the ability to impart. The
youth has to go beyond things sensible ; he must leave the
outer for the inner world. This is always difficult. It re-
quires application, direct effort, fixed times, abstraction from
other objects, the instrumentality of books. Left to himself,
after he has mastered that elementary knowledge which pours
itself ujion liim at every step, he devotes himself to pleasure,
to sensual gratification, to sports which however well they
may be as recreation are ruinous when they constitute em-
ployment. Hence arises the school to meet this new stage of
progress. Teachers, text books, and all the machinery of in-
struction come to the aid of the parent. The youth is iso-
lated from the world, disciplined in classes, stimulated by a
generous emulation, roused to put forth his latent powers by
the foreseen position of influence and usefulness he can attain.
Thus habits of study are formed ; thus, one after another,
difficulties vanish ; the mind grows in science and power

128 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUESES.

gradually but surely. The exijerienced teacher, the admir-
able text book, the daily recitation, the private application,
the freedom from other cares, the genial warmth of learning
quickening the spirit, all combine to urge the youth forward
in the training of his intellect. Thus the school tills up this
second stage of education. Taking the child from the nursery,
it forms his youth ; it follows out the work of childhood and
exalts him to a higher position in life, preparing him at length
to test his principles and apply his intellect to practical af-
fairs, when he goes forth into society. The school ! Let me
pause a moment over the sweet and bitter memories which
cluster around that word. What visions of pothooks and
trammels ! of refractory, knotty, mispronounced and mis-
sjDelled words ! of verbs and nouns, and tenses and cases, the
mysteries of grammar, rise before me ! What a profound
geographer was the lad who could repeat without failure the
capital of every State in the Union ! What an object of ad-
miration the boy who could cipher in fractions and the rule
of three ! What a cyclopedia of knowledge was he who
could tell the very day of the adoption of the Declaration of
Independence, and could prove to our satisfaction that the
sun did not rise in the east ! How blessed was that season
when Webster's spelling-book was a work of vast research,
Dobell's arithmetic the sum of mathematical science, and our
worshipful schoolmaster, next to George Washington, the
greatest man in the Union ! The joyous holidays — the train-
ings— the anniversaries — the vacations, how did the very
thoughts of them once thrill the heart with pleasure ; while
alas ! as if to vindicate the truthfulness of that old apothegm,
" there is no flower without its thorn," memory still retains
the impression of sundry ferrulings and whippings adminis-
tered, in the very spirit of Solomon's philosophy, upon our
youthful persons, innocent of all evil but the eating of apples
and trying the temper of our pen-knives upon desks and
benches !

Such was the school ! Yet there the spirit of many a strong
man was disciplined for a noble future. Little by little we

THE THKEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 129

rose ; gradually the prescribed course of instructiuu was gone
over ; one left for his farm, another for his trade, another for
merchandise ; the girls now ripened into young ladies passing
off to keep them company — while here and there a solitary
soul, destined by our fathers to other fields of labor departed
for the sterner struggle of college life. The school ! how vast
its influence ! how grand the results it has wrought out ! how
indispensable to the full education of the young. The college
may form the few, but the school is the mother of the many ;
the college may perfect the teacher, but the millions of the
taught, who in time, as fathers and mothers are to teach the
young in their first stage of education, who are to move the
vast operations of human society, build cities and towns, re-
claim the earth from its curse and bid it bring forth food and
flowers, spread commerce from continent to continent, and
make the desert bloom with all the life of civilization — these
reverence the school as their "Alma Mater." From her walls
they go forth possessed of the elements of intelligence and
prepared to cultivate the bounteous heritage given to them
of their heavenly Father. They ascend the mountains, they
fill the valleys, they cover the plains, they compass the sea,
they sustain all noble institutions ; and amidst all their wan-
derings they look back with thanksgiving to this their noble
mother.

Let us pass now to the third stage of education — Society.
To some I may seem about to broach a novelty — a new term
in Education. Imagining that the school or academy finishes
that business, as full-grown men and women they are abund-
antly qualified by previous discipline to play their part suc-
cessfully. It is true, indeed, that the foundation of character
has by this time been laid and the edifice reared upon it. Yet
it is equally true, that the structure has not attained all that
completeness "which fits it for the finest use. The walls have
been reared and the roof thrown over, but the windows may
be unhung, the doors without fastenings, the walls without
plaster, the whole building without paint or ornament. In
point of fact, it is impossible in the second stage of Education,

130 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

without prolonging it, to effect all these things. If. we seek
to erect only a log-cabin, with its apjoropriate furniture — a
tolerable dwelling place — short time is necessary for the
work ; but if we wish to rear a structure that will combine
stability, convenience, spaciousness and elegance, we shall
be obliged to go through a far more elaborate process. In
the school the intellect has been disciplined so as to enable it
to advance ; it learns hoio to think, without as yet having
attained the chief results of thought ; it is prepared to gain
knowledge, it can not go forth instinct with it. In this pro-
cess of mental and moral discipline, some great principles
are settled and a certain amount of knowledge material to
success in life attained. Yet in comparison to the whole
field open to us, these results are very inconsiderable. The
work of the school has been chiefly to discipline the intellect,
strengthen it to grapple with questions presented in after life,
and afford it a sufficient acquaintance with general literature
to enable it afterwards to prosecute the acquisition of it in
any desired direction with ease and pleasure. When the
girl leaves school, she has yet to go through another process
of Education, before she can be fully j)repared for the work
of her life. As a young lady she enters her father's house
and goes forth into society. What has she yet to acquire ?
She occupies, and is destined to occupy a twofold relation —
one to the household, the other to society. These relations
are in reality closely connected, however much they may be
generally separated. Her relation to the household is first
in importance, and if rightly filled, she can, with a true in-
dependence, take her appropriate position in society. I am
not derogating from the dignity of my theme, therefore, in
maintaining, as one thing indispensable to the well-educated
woman, the art of managing successfully the affairs of a
household. By the ordinance of providence, in all civilized
communities, this department of life falls to the female. It
is not one to be slighted or desjjised, nor can it be mastered in
a few days. It stands connected far more intimately than at
first sight appears with the prosperity of the family, the hap-

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 131

piness of individuals and the elevation of society. Many a
man has been harassed and broken for life — lost to society
and the world by a union with one who, either through con-
tempt of the attainment, or with the best dispositions, through
early neglect, was unable wisely to conduct the affairs of a
family. She who thinks the fingers that have touched the
strings of the harp and the keys of the piano too delicate for
housewifery ; she who supposes that the genius instinct with
poetry — the mind capable of dissecting Butler, and demon-
strating Euclid, is of too refined a nature to descend to the
study of the " Receipt" book and the management of a kitch-
en, had better renounce matrimony and betake herself to that
fairy land where life is nourished without eating, and a genial
climate permits nature to be satisfied with the slightest cov-
ering.

The first years of my life were passed in a large manufac-
turing town. Gentlemen from abroad occasionally sent their
sons thither to undergo the training necessary to make them
accomplished managers of similar establishments in other
places. The young gentlemen, not unfrequently fresh from
college, were obliged to commence their apprenticeship by en-
gaging in almost the lowest department of labor. From this
they ascended through the difierent kinds of work until they
had mastered the whole. In this way they became accom-
plished critics, understood precisely the character of the work
produced, and knew how to direct others to do it. If there is
any better way than this for you to gain a practical acquaint-
ance with your appropriate duties as the guiding minds of a
household, qualifying you either to direct others, or, if need
be, perform the work yourselves, I leave for others wiser on
this subject to determine. But be assured, whatever different
opinions there may be about the best way of fitting youi«-
selves for these duties, the subject is one that demands the
most serious consideration — a part of your education in Soci-
ety which you may not neglect, without exposure to personal
mortification, even should you be so happy as to avoid in-
volving others in the consequences of your inexperience.

132 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

Could we trace out the causes which have given success in
life to one, and withheld it from another of equal ability, I
doubt not that the presence or absence of a faithful, wise,
and diligent mind at home would often be found among the
most powerful. The world, in some of its features, may have
changed since the time of Solomon ; society may wear a dif-
ferent dress and custom put on new forms ; but the radical
elements of private prosperity and happiness are unchange-
able. The secret fountains are the same in every age. The
streams may run in new channels, through new regions, amid
new scenery ; the plains and the mountains may spread and
rise in new aspects, while the springs that feed the streams and
fertilize the plains and gush from the mountain side, remain
the same as the sources of blessing. So the costume of the
virtuous woman, whose lixicQ is above rubies in the descrip-
tion of Solomon, may partake of the time and manners and
customs among which she lived, but the ideas that are thus
clothed in garments to us somewhat strange, express the es-
sential qualities of a noble and useful woman in every age —
of one who from the retiracy of her own home, sends forth
an influence that crowns her children, her husband and her
friends with honor. Happy will you be, if the world shall
honor you through those whom your domestic virtues and
home life have quickened and blest.

As you leave this place, however, there are still other rela-
tions you are to sustain, invohdng duties, imposing responsi-
bilities, and drawing after them results of no small importance.
You now enter upon life in its more mature and earnest form.
Parents, brothers and sisters, friends, claim you as co-workers
in performing the duties devolving upon adult age. You take
your position as young ladies in association with general
stciety. The days of childhood and girlhood are past. As
educated women, of disciplined minds, and formed judg-
ments, you are called upon to bear your part in real life ; to
minister to the advancement of society, and share in all those
practical efforts essential to its refinement and elevation. Im-
mediately on your entrance into these scenes, there com-

THE THKEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 133

raences a process of action and reaction between you and the
new elements az'ound you. Hitherto you have been the gay,
careless spirit, a singing bird joyous in the mere consciousness
of a vigorous existence, or you have been theorizing, specu-
lating, looking at things in the abstract, disciplining the
mind for future action. Now you enter upon the practical
relations of life. Your opinions, if formed, are to be tested;
if not fully formed, they are to be matured and settled amidst
the conflicts of society. Principles are now to be applied to
practice ; the discipline of the mind made available in meet-
ing questions which constantly arise. You are to converse
so as to give and receive profit and pleasure. You are to
shed around you a quiet, luminous, refreshing influence ; not
as noisy debaters, not as vociferous and random talkers, not as
vain presumers on the license granted to youth and beauty,
but as educated young ladies, whose studies have invigorated
their understandings and qualified them to act a sensible part
in society. You will be obliged, in your intercourse with oth-
ers, to hear opinions that are crude and often false, sentiments
not only untrue but of a most destructive tendency. Life
and society are composed of heterogeneous elements. Vari-
ous opinions and characters enter into their composition. It
is in the friendly collision and intercourse of these, that God
has ordained our faith, our general principles and courses of
action, shall be firmly settled. Youth not unfrequently runs
a most perilous course ; the glory and the pleasure that lift
themselves in the future, often blind it to the course of the
current on which it floats, until the roar of the rapids sud-
denly falls upon the ear. Error is often urged by persuasive
lips ; mellifluous words, like honey gathered from certain
flowers, may convey the deadliest poison, while truth may
find utterance in plain, rude speech. Error may appear in all
the fascinations of a winning sophistry, the principles of evil,
robed as angels of light, may beckon us on into flowery paths,
while truth and holiness may wear a homely garb and seem
opposite to the joyous state of youth. There are two of
Cole's pictures which at this time of your life would form a

134 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES,

most instructive study. I allude to " Youth" and " Manhood"
in his Voyage of Life. The first, with its glory lifting itself so
gi-andly in the future, while the current of life's river suddenly
sweeps the voyager away from even the prospect of it ; the
second with its cataract and rapids below, and its scowling
fiends and angel of mercy above, convey to the heart a lesson
of actual life which, if you will but learn, will prepare you
to meet many a temptation that, coming suddenly upon you,
might prove too strong for the principles of good you now
cherish. In this state of things, it belongs to your discipline
for eternity, to learn how to discriminate the evil amidst its
shows of beauty, the good amidst its seeming evil. This is
a high attainment in Education. It is one for which the
nursery and the school may have prepared you, but which
they can not fully bestow. It is, in part, the work of society;
it is to rise out of the intercourse with various and indepen-
dent minds. Here, in the collisions of sentiment and amidst
the diversities of opinion, you are to justify this delightful
description :

" How charming is divine philosophy,
Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo's lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets,
Where no crude surfeit reigns."

The influence of society in molding us, is more powerful
from being imperceptible. The young go forth into it, as if
prepared to mold and fashion it after their own pattern. In
the end it not unfrequently happens that they are changed
and greatly changed without being fully aware of the trans-
formation. So a person in a skiff attempts to draw a frigate
to himself; they approach rapidly, but it is soon manifest
that while the latter may have moved an inch, the former has
moved a mile. Society is already a formed, solid body, not
easily affected by extraneous influences, but raj)idly influen-
cing all who enter the circle of its power. While you give
and receive influence, you will perceive the necessity of be-

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. ISo

ing on your guard against that overwhelming force whicli
steals around and gradually molds the young according to its
own image.

There are three attainments, among others, which a young
lady in this last stage of education should make. (1.) A ma-
ture judgment. Of this you have laid the foundation in the
school. But in society you have a wide field for its exer-
cise, and numerous exigencies to develop it more perfectly.
There are some theories to discard, some imaginations to re-
duce, some day dreams to dissipate. The application of just
principles to practice is a high attainment ; it constitutes
ripe judgment, it distinguishes one man above another for
practical wisdom. The jjossession of such principles is a
good thing, hut it is a much better thing to be able to apply
them just when and where they are most needed. There are
some in whom correct principles are like loose jewels hidden
and useless ; there are others in whom they are like those
jewels set by the hand of a master, and flashing forth their
beauty before the eyes of men. There are some, who, with
all their learning never learn how to act in society, so as to
attain the confidence of others, and prosecute a successful
plan of life ; there are often others of far less intelligence
who readily seize upon the true principles of action and early
learn how best to apply them, whose practical judgment and
tact is worth far more, as an element of success and happi-
ness, than the mere knowledge of books. Nothing tends so
much to bring literature and science, in respect to female edu-
cation, into disrepute, as the possession of these without the
knowledge of life as it is, or the ability wisely to take advan-
tage of circumstances and meet the oft-recuiring demands of
society. It is one of the most important parts of education
to attain the power of judging as by instinct of the true, the
right, the pure, the appropriate, the profitable. The mind
should possess a judgment like a flaming two-edged sword,
turning every way to prevent the entrance of evil into your
own soul and oblige others to recognize its power. This,

136 EDUCATIONAL DISCOUKSES.

nowever, is no gift of the schools. It must be gained fully in
actual life, amidst the conflicting elements of society.

(2.) This judgment thus matured should then be sustained
by firmness of purpose. Decision of character is not an ap-
propriate attribute of a genuine man alone — it gives consist-
ency and strength to the true woman. Guided by strong
sense and intelligence, pervaded by gentleness and expressing
itself in that refinement of manners which adorns her life,
elevated far above obstinacy, it imparts stability to all that is
lovely and jDrecious, and furnishes a firm ground of confidence
in respect to usefulness. A poet of the last generation writes,

"Oh! woman in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made ;
When pain and anguish wring the brow
A ministering angel thou."

Admirable as is the compliment in the closing lines, yet you
will not regard it as redeeming the severe judgment of that
which precedes. From that judgment you should seek to vin-
dicate yourselves. No woman whose mind has been matured
amidst the practical relations of society, and who has formed
herself to decision in action, can properly be compared to
" the shade by the light quivering aspen made."

(3.) Kefinement of manners. True refinement has its
source in the heart, and its deepest fountain is genuine re-
ligious faith. This you have been taught to seek as above
all things most valuable. But the manifestation of those
feelings, in an easy addi'ess that proclaims the desire to com-
municate happiness, is usually an acquisition of society itself.
With maimers refined and gentle, breathing the nobility of
kindness to all within your influence, without assumption or
fear, without the boldness of the virago or the timidity of a
bashful child ; with this happy mean of gentleness, modesty
and self-assurance ; ready to bear your part in the intercourse
of life, and contribute your quota to promote the interests of
society, you will have profited by the educational influence

THE THKEE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 137

around you, and reached a position from which you may ac-
complish great good.

Thus these three things, mature judgment, decision and
refinement in manners, are usually attained in their fullness
only under the educational influence of society. In this con-
nection, there are various and important topics on which the
time alloted to this service will not allow us to dwell. One
suggestion permit me to make, ere I close. If you would
make these exercises of the school bring forth the richest
fruits in society you must maintain the habit of study. It
will be impossible for most of you to devote your chief atten-
tion to intellectual pursuits, as you have done here. Other,
and, for the time, higher objects will claim your attention
and exhaust most of your time and energy. But amid the
most pressing domestic cares, there still remains in the lives
of most women, ample room for a gradual but steady prog-
ress in the cultivation of the mind and the further acquisi-
sition of knowledge. The elevation you have here gained can
be maintained only by the devotion of some portion of your
time to the same studies which belong to the school. The
mind, although it can never wholly lose the quickening and
elevating influence of your past course, may yet, through in-
action or neglect, let slip many of its precious treasures, while
its force of thought becomes weakened, and its intellectual
resources, receiving no enlargement, actually decrease as life
advances. If you would fit yourselves to be indeed the no-
blest ornament and blessing of society, you must continue to
commune with those intellects of the living and the dead,
whose thoughts will enlarge the range of your vision, inform
the understanding and purify the affections. Poetry, history,
philosophy, theology and general literature, furnish some au-
thors whose works in part, at least, you can master, and find
yourselves greatly gainers. Especially during the period that
intervenes between the school and settlement in life, that
halcyon period, when neither the strict regimen of the first,
nor the oppressive cares of the second are upon you, whim
uncertain respecting the future, yet full of hope, buoyant

138 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES,

with high animal spirits, and bright anticipations of a world
you are just entering, you have leisure to accomplish much
in this direction, with all the advantage of the freshness and
impulse given to the pursuit, by the scenes from which you
now pass. Then it is easy for you to confirm the habits here
formed, and in doing that send your mind forward into higher
regions of thought. An hour each day redeemed from sleep
or pleasure, will in a few years accomplish wonderful results.
It will not only make you respect yourself, but render you
independent of those transient excitements so necessary to the
enjoyment of others, by opening up to you sources of happi-
ness far deeper, purer, and more abiding. If now you carry
forward your education vigorously, for a few years in this
direction, the acquisition of knowledge will be a habit and a
joy, with which, should you be so circumstanced, the cares
of a family will not greatly interfere. But if you wholly in-
termit these studies now, you will find it difiicult to resume
them in after life.

There are three courses which may be pursued on leaving
the school. The young lady deeming herself fully educated
according to the standard of those around her, delivered from
the surveillance of teachers and ripe for scenes of pleasure,
flings aside her books and devotes herself to present enjoy-
ment. If she reads, it is only a work of fiction, or that which
constitutes the froth of literature, something to minister a
transient excitement, rather than nourish deep thought. If
she plays, it is only to practice her old pieces for the evening's
amusement. Dress, society, pleasure, form the cycle of her
new life. There is no advance contemplated ; neither life
nor society is studied, nor the higher duties they impose un-
derstood and fulfilled. The judgment matures only by stern
experiences. The immortal mind that might have gone on
rising in knowledge and strengthening for life's great work, is
satisfied with the pursuits of a butterfly, and content with
the same kind of admiration elicited by that gay insect. Need
I paint her future ?

There is a second class, few in number, but rich in talents,

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 139

in whom the love of literature and science has grown into the
most absorbing passion ; whose lives are consequently devoted
almost exclusively to the interests of education, or the pursuit
of knowledge. Here and there minds hke those of Hannali
More and Mary Lyon, appear in the past and present, so
constituted originally and so improved by assiduous cultiva-
tion, and so animated by enthusiasm, as to be qualified to
spread abroad a wide and deep influence, as among the best
writers and educators of their age. Such minds now rare, as
education shall more thoroughly discipline the females of the
generations to come, will doubtless be multiplied ; the frag-
rance and bloom of woman's spirit will enrich our literature,
as well as bless the more limited circle of domestic life.

There is still another class. It embraces those who, with
a just sense of the high position of woman in society, seek to
fill up the wide circle of her duties ; who while they mingle
in society, neglect not the fireside, while they minister to the
enjoyments of home and the healthful intercourse of friends,
yet seek the fountains of thought, which the wise and good
of the past have opened ; who, conscious of their imperfection,
labor to extend the horizon of their experience and knowledge,
while they bring the results of that labor to adorn the home
they love, and ennoble their association with the world.

Such are the paths which open before you as you enter
society. It will be for you now to choose whether the path-
way of life shall conduct you through scenes of merely tran-
sient pleasure profitless for good, which will quell the ardent
desire for advancement in the excitements of a present joy,
and leave you at length, when the spirits of youth have de-
parted and the bloom of beauty has vanished and the storms
of life arise, like the inexperienced mariner, who, launched
uj)on a sunny sea, neglects the favoring gales that would soon
have wafted him beyond the reach of danger, and ere long
beholds with terror, a darkened sky, the sea uplifting its
angiy surges and the port of hope yet far distant ; or whether
you will pursue that better path, in which, conscious of your
nobility and the vantage ground for continued improvement,

140

EDUCATIONAL DISCOUESES.

on which you now stand, you will nerve yourselves for a far
greater work than you have here performed, you will resolve
to make society itself impart to your spirit a richer grace and
a higher degree of intelligence, you will form your minds to
undertake the most difficult achievements, you will seek to
gain by all the round of social duties and intellectual pursuits
either incumbent upon or open to you, that more perfect, re-
fined, and noble life of the soul, in virtue of which you will
shine with increasing brilliancy, and shed around you a quick-
ening power for good, even when age advances upon you ; so
that the charms of beauty, and the physical vigor of youth,
as they depart will only reveal the concealed fruit now blush-
ing into ripeness. Especially will this be the case, if what I
have presupposed in all this discussion is true, and you have
chosen that better part which can not be taken from you. If
to the accomplishments of literature and the graces and re-
finements of social hfe, you add that pure spmt of religion,
which exalts whatever it penetrates, enriches poverty and
pours the light of knowledge into the untutored mind of ig-
norance, assimilates man to God, and holds in blest harmony
all the powers of the soul ; which consecrates all our attain-
ments to the noblest uses, opens ever fresh fields of action and
usefulness, softens the ruggedness and relieves the painfulness
of the darker hours of life, sheds a benison around affliction,
and ministers a blessing through the sorrow of time ; which
Avill make you angels of mercy to our fallen race, then, when
you die, while the tears of loving and grateful multitudes,
your influence has made to feel the quickening power of a truly
Christian woman, shall be your noblest eulogy, the crown of
life gemmed with stars shall be your unfading reward.*

" What highest prize hath woman won
In science or in art ?
"What mightiest work, by woman done,

Boasts city, field or mart?
'She hath no Raphael I' Painting saith,

'No Newton 1' Learning cries ;
Show us her steamships I her Macbeth I
Her thought- won victories!'

THE THREE STAGES OF EDUCATION. 141

Ladies and Gentlemen — There are no objects on which
the eye of the stranger, as he enters our towns and villages,
rests more gratefully, than on these public institutions. The
private dwelling may speak of general prosperity, but it may
be a purely physical prosperity, consistent, to some extent,
with ignorance and vice. There may be, here and there, the
evidences of an indomitable energy, and large individual ac-
cumulations of wealth, while the signs of the truest form of
public prosperity may be absent. But when he sees broad
avenues planned by no contracted mind, when he beholds nu-
merous churches lifting their spires heavenward ; when the
temple of Nemesis rises before him in solid and majestic pro-
portions, as if even the stern brow of Justice should be wreathed
in classic beauty ; when institutions of learning, where the
young are informed with intelligence, and their hearts molded
by wisdom, meet him at every turn, then a deep, calm joy
enters his soul. He feels that religion, and law, and intelli-
gence have here their home ; that in these spacious mansions,
and those more humble dwellings, taste and elegance and
purity dwell with enterj^rise and skill ; that here must be the
elements of a noble and an advancing society ; that here are

" "Wait, boastful man I though worthy are

Thy deeds, when thou art true,
Things worthier still and holier far,

Our sister yet wiU do :
For this the worth of woman shows

On every peopled shore.
That still as man in wisdom grows

He honors her the more.

" Oh, not for wealth, or fame, or power

Hath man's weak angel striven,
But silent as the growing flower.

To make of earth a heaven —
And in her garden of the sun,

Heaven's brightest rose shall bloom ;
For woman's best is unbegun !

Her advent yet to come!" — Elliott.

142 EDUCATIONAL DISCOURSES.

minds with whom his heart can sympathize and his spirit
hold pleasant converse. Thus have I felt, as from yonder hill
my eye first rested upon this beautiful city ; thus have I felt
still more deeply, as my intercourse has been increased with
many of the intelligent, enterprising and the good among you ;
thus do I feel to-day, on this most interesting occasion, on the
anniversary of this cherished institution — an institution de-
voted to the enlarged education of your daughters, where, un-
der the most admirable influences, they may pass through the
training of the school, and come forth prepared to take ad-
vantage of the perfecting discipline of society, and become, at
length, not merely its ornaments, but plastic powers for the
molding aright of those who are to enter after them upon
this moving scene of life. Happy is that people, whom re-
ligion, law, and intelligence ennoble. This trinity of influ-
ence will elevate them high in character, enrich them with
the materials of power over men, and spread abroad the fame
of their doings to distant lands. Under such influences, the
spot where forty years ago the trees of the forest lifted their
gigantic tops into the sky, now bears the beautiful city, rival-
ing those eastern Arcadias, which, for centuries, the hand of
taste and wealth has been adorning. Let such influences
mold our western world, and while Italy boasts of her art-
ists, and her deep blue skies, and Greece rejoices in her Acrop-
olis, and her land — one wide mausoleum of the immortal dead,
and England exults in that learning, skill, and enterprise
which have given her dominion over the nations, ive will re-
joice in a nobler scene, in richer fruits, in a higher civiliza-
tion, in a people pervaded with intelligence, exalted above
poverty, obedient to law, yet bearing the impress of freedom,
and living daily, not for the limited and selfish object of a
merely personal prosperity, or a national aggrandizement, but
in the spirit of the Immanuel to impart the light and hope
of a better world unto all the benighted dwellers on the earth,
and raise the down-trodden to a position in which they may
possess the richest blessings of time and the fairest prospects
for eternity.

LITERARY ADDRESSES

y.

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND.*

Among the leading distinctions which exalt us above the
mere brute, the attribute of mind is not the least. It is not
indeed the only, nor in all resj^ccts the chief. If we are not
simply animal, neither are we purely intellectual. For there
is a moral in our nature that soars above even the intellectual,
and creates between man and the mere world of animal in-
stinct the bridgeless gulf of separation. Yet while we give
the crown to the heart, we claim for the intellect the seals of
office, as the chief executive standing next to the throne.

In every part of human life, mind in its action creates dis-
tinctions and displays the impressive results of its invisible
power. The very form of our animal nature has stamped
upon it peculiar dignity, as a temple reared expressly for the
abode, not of the most noble of brutes, but of one born in
the divine image — of a participant in that sublime nature,
that unfathomable intelligence which 2^ervades and compasses
all being. Erect while all else is prone, his lofty bearing is
the superscription of his Maker to the nobility of the nature
within. Every part of this wondrous frame bears in its con-
struction the marks of its designed adaptation to the wants,
not of a purely instinctive, but of a rational inhabitant.
Physical superiority was obviously not in the eye of the ar-
chitect "? certainly it is not attained. The deer can outstrip
us ; the eagle outsoar us ; yet so admirably is this material
structure adapted to act the executive of the intelligence
within, that we can speed on its deadly mission a physical

* A lecture introductory to the eleventh annual course of lectures before the
Young Men's Association of the city of Albany. Delivered December 3, 1844.

10

146 LITERARY ADDRESSES,

agent tliat will overtake and bring them both to the dust.
Compared with the powerful horse and patient ox, the strength
of the human frame is weakness itself ; yet as the agent of the
indwelling mind, this puny arm can tame the fiery courser
and harness these brute forces to his chariot and his plow.
There is a passionate energy that flashes from the lion's eye ;
but there is a singular intelligence speaking in the counten-
ance— gleaming from the eye of man, before which the forest-
king has been known to quail. Look also at that splendid
dome of thought, that crowns our physical frame, with its
orbs of intellectual light sparkling beneath, and its organ of
speech, through which mind communes with mind, and you
can not fail to perceive how every part of this exquisite or-
ganism proclaims the existence and force of an intelligent
spirit. And if you would see in all its vividness, this stamp
of mind upon our very framework, go to the halls of legisla-
tion, when on some occasion like that which gave birth to our
" Declaration," the deep spirits of a nation's wisdom are roused
and the waters of a nation's eloquence are stirred to then* pro-
foundest depths. Then the intellect, energized by emotion,
sparkles in the eye — glows in the countenance — plays around
the uncovered brow — kindles on the lip — streams from the
fingers — wakes into action each muscle of the body — and
speaks in one harmonious and deep-toned voice thi'ough all
the harp-strings of this physical frame.

If you take still another view of this point, and compare
the modes in wliich man and brute respectively meet oppos-
ing forces, you will see in effect the wonderful adaptation of
this body to carry into execution the purj)oses of the mind.
The brute, in his efforts to overcome a physical power, is de-
pendent solely upon his own individual physical resources.
The affrighted deer tries his speed with the swift-footed
hound ; the tiger joins in the death-struggle with the lion ;
the bird overcomes the force that draws him earthward by the
instinctive use of his own strength, and they all employ only
the natural instruments peculiar to each, without the smallest
power of varying, combining, or extending them. But man,

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 147

feeble in body and vastly inferior in purely physical attributes
to the instmctive creation, has a mind, which by a dexterous
combination of his limited personal resources, subjects to his
control the force not only of the animate but of the inani-
mate world. He employs nature to overcome nature ; arrays
foreign forces the one against the other, and by a skillful dis-
position of those agencies, of which mind has given him the
mastery, he accomplishes results surpassing the combined ex-
ertions of all the brute power on the globe. By various instru-
ments and forces other than his own, he rears his mill-dam —
constructs his water-wheel, and then compels the force of
gravitation acting through the yielding fluid, to grind, and
saw, and spin, and carry forward the various processes by
which the materials of his food and clothing are prepared for
use. He emj)loys an elastic vapor to aid him in constructing
and then in propelling huge vessels, by land and water, laden
with riches from all quarters of the earth. The wind — the
water — the tide, in its flux and reflux — the fire — the impal-
pable gases — the very fluid whose explosion shakes the firm
earth and flashes its fearful thunder in the sky, all of them in
some degi-ee yield to his will and play the part of his instru-
ments. There is scarcely a material agent or a known power
of the physical world that he does not, at least in part, mas-
ter and compel to minister to his necessities, his comfort or
his luxury. Even the orb of day, whose delicate and impon-
derable rays are the pencil with which the Infinite colors so
exquisitely the forms of vegetable beauty that adorn our
earth, even he, God's great painter, must employ his match-
less skill as a limner for man. While a subtile and ordinarily
invisible fluid is first discovered — its hidden existence and
powers developed by the experimenting hand of genius, and
then subsidized for our use, it becomes the fleet post-horse
of the mind, by which with a rapidity as unmeasurable as
that of Heaven's bolt, thought, argument, fact, all the vast
coinage of the ever-active brain, career from intellect to intel-
lect, over states — over rivers — over continents, so that ere the
voice has died away in which it was uttered, the word spoken

148 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

is whispered on the other side of the globe. All this, and
vastly more than this, man has effected through the wisdom
of his intellect, united to the agency of tliis weak frame.
And thus through the very imbecility of his body, does his
mind shine forth with resjilendent luster, and exhibits to us
the physical man as bearing in his construction a peculiar
adaptation to be the successful agent of the intelligent soul.

In order to establish the peculiar dignity of mind, and thus
lay a foundation on which we may stand in m'ging upon you
its cultivation, I propose to trace it out as it is seen, forming
an element of all the noblest aristocracies of life. It is an
undoubted fact, that life has its aristocracies, and such, too,
as are inseparable from the operation of civilized society, —
arrange, and modify, and mold it as you may. They are not
indeed always either governmental or hereditary aristocracies,
which belong rather to the past and the other side of the
globe, and which to our republican vision are instinct with
evil, but such as embrace that which is most highly esteemed
and influential in society. Commencing our survey of these
with the aristoc7^acy of fashion, let us see if we can not trace
in it an evidence of the dignity and force of our intellectual
nature. Do not understand me here as designing to discuss
the qualities of the race of dandies — a class who approximate
more nearly than any other to Plato's men, " unfeathered
bipeds." I do not speak so much of persons as things. The
term fashion is used legitimately as indicative of external
forms, and the term aristocracy as denoting that class of out-
ward forms consisting of dress, furniture, architecture, etc.,
which are held in the liighest estimation. It is obvious that
there is everywhere a gradation in the character of these out-
ward forms, ascending from the coarse attire of the ditchel* to
those fine and delicate robes which command admiration and
impart delight. In respect to the furniture and architecture
of your dwelKngs and halls, there is the same gradation from
the rude to the exquisitely wrought, from the unfinished set-
tee to the splendid couch — from the mud hut and log cabin
to the lofty palace and magnificent temple. Now it is a

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 149

known fact that precisely the same distinction in regard to
outward forms runs entirely through human society. Even
the savage has his gradations in this respect, and the more
elevated cabin of his king, and his more 'costly robes, evince
that he too is affected by this universal aristocracy of fashion.
As we proceed upward, however, from this lowest state of
existence, we find this appreciation of outward forms con-
stantly developing itself, until, as in the highest state of
Grecian, Egyptian, Roman and modern civilization, the ac-
tual structure of society is to a great extent molded by it.
Now we contend that this fact is of itself illustrative of the
mental dignity and intellectual force of man. This distinc-
tion of forms, this appreciation of the more beautiful and
grand, exists nowhere but among the higher orders of being.
The most intelligent of brutes have never risen to the posses-
sion of this power. It is peculiar to the rational, and never
descends to the instinctive. In itself, it is the same appreci-
ation of the beautiful and the grand — of order and sublimity,
more or less refined, indeed, according to the intellectual cul-
tivation of individuals, but yet virtually the same with that
which, existing in the mind of the architect of creation, has
cast the material world into such countless forms of beauty
and gi'andeur. It is the same principle existing in us, and
which, modified ])j our peculiar circumstances, inspires admi-
ration for rich robes and exquisitely wrought furniture, and
well proportioned architecture, that, operating upon the divine
mind, has curved the ocean and painted the flowers, and hung
over and around the setting sun his gorgeous canojay of clouds.
Our standards of taste may in some respects vary, Avhile the
love of the beautiful and the sensibility to all that is magnifi-
cent may remain in full force. One may prefer to encase his
limbs in the dress of the orient, and another in that of the
Occident ; one has an imagination most deeply affected by the
gloomy architecture of the Egyptian, another loves most to
contemplate the fine proportion and majestic harmony of the
Grecian temple, while still another is awed by the solemn and
irregular grandeur of the ever branching Gothic : one may

150 LITEKAEY ADDKESSES.

bow down to the genius of Raphael as the type of the noblest
and most exquisite school of painters, while another enrolls
himself a disciple of Rubens, and yet, after all, there exists in
each one the same genuine love for beauty and order and grand-
eur, which we see revealed in the spire of grass, the majestic
oak, the sparkling star, the blue canopy over our heads, and
the verdant carjjet beneath our feet ; and thus, in our love
for these most exquisitely wrought and beautiful forms, do
we reflect one of the most delightful of those high attributes
which exalt the infinite Jehovah.

But in addition to the mere love of the more excellent of
natural forms, there is joined with it an appreciation of the
mental power that has produced them. When you contem-
plate an exquisite or a magnificent work of art, you not only
admire its beauty and yield to the force of its grandeur, but
if you will suffer your mind to pass beyond the work itself,
you will instinctively do homage to the intellect that gave it
perfection. In this apj)reciation of the mental power put
forth in works of art, consists the true immortality of the
artist. St. Peter's and St. Paul's are not merely the proud
mausoleums where the genius of Angelo and Wren lie buried
in state ; the intellect of these men lives in them, and breathes
through them, and lifts itself up in their domes and spires,
immortal in dignity, before the eyes of passing generations.
The works of art are the human intellect embodied in voice-
less yet speaking forms. The aristocracy of fashion is the
assemblage of the master productions of master artists. It is
one mode in which mind makes itself known for the apprecia-
tion of mind. It is man working on a similar field and in the
exercise of similar intellectual power with his Maker, crea-
ting that which may meet the same impulse toward the
beautiful and grand, which exists in the higher natm'e of the
Creator.

Now in proj)ortion as men rise in their appreciation of
that which is most admirable in works of art, do they usually
become more truly refined and intelligent. As society ad-
vances upward, the dark cabin gives place to the commodious

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 151

and finely proportioned palace ; the person is arrayed in gar-
ments of a finer texture and more tasteful form ; wliile the
style of the inclosures and the arrangement of the surround-
ing grounds display the advancing refinement of their pos-
sessor. Thus, when I enter a dwelling, no matter if it be far
removed from the hustle and the external polish of the city,
yet if I see a garden well arranged, and flowers with their
perennial beauty smiling upon me from the window, I feel
sure that there is within a refined intellect, that can appre-
ciate at once the forms of natural loveliness and the mind of
their great Architect. So let a person of cultivated mental
powers, who never may have heard of Egypt or Grreece, wake
up amidst the solemn temples of Thebes or upon the Acropo-
lis, and he will stand awe-struck at those monuments of gigan-
tic mind. And precisely the same principle which in these
cases evinces that here mind shines forth in its dignity and
glory, runs through all the forms of art which everywhere
compose the true aristocracy of fashion. Its luster and its
dignity is the stamp of intelligence impressed upon it. As
mind disappears, the aristocracy of fashion vanishes. The
temples and the palaces crumble, while the tent and the hut
of the kraal are planted amidst their ruins. The comforts
and elegances of life give place to the rude existence of a sav-
age, fattening on worms and lashed to labor by the gaunt
hand of famine, while in his gross person and clouded eye,
the glories of our intellectual nature are almost totally
eclipsed.

Next in order to the aristocracy of fashion, is that of
wealth.

It is a fact open to the notice of all, that the possession
of large means ordinarily confers consideration. Wealth is
not oidy power in the merely physical resources it supplies,
and the direct infiuence it enables its possessor to exert u2)on
the dependent, but in the popular elevation it usually brings
with it. Now some of this influence of property seems to us
to be due to its presumed connection with a refined or a vig-
orous mind. The mere fact of the possession of a hoard for

152 LITERAKY ADDKESSES.

the future, is certainly not adapted in itself to elevate the
man ahove the squirrel or the bee, who in summer prepare
the stores of winter. And surely it would be a libel upon
our common nature to suppose that all the power of property
is due to a selfish expectation of personal benefit. To some
extent and in some cases this feeling may form an element of
the influence of wealth ; but he must be blind indeed, who
would make it the sole element. From the nature of the
case, it must be confined to individuals, and can not account
for the general influence of property beyond the circle of de-
pendence. Nor can we account for it wholly on the ground
of the display of beautiful forms, which it enables its posses-
sor to make, in his costly furniture and equipages, and dwell-
ings. For even in this case, the person would only seem to
borrow somewhat of the mental glory of his artists, and thus
flutter in their plumage. But this influence of property is
often equally great, independent of these things and in their
absence. It seems impossible to account for all this influ-
ence, without proceeding upon the supjDOsition that there is
usually a 'presumed connection between the possession of
property and a vigorous or a refined mind. I speak here
only of Si presumptive, and not a real connection. The exist-
ence of such a presumption is all-sufficient to make up the
complement of influence emanating from wealth. The fact
of its existence is one thing ; whether it has any just founda-
tion is quite another. The proof of the existence of this fact,
is rather a matter of personal consciousness, than of visible
demonstration. If, for instance, a person, by his own efforts,
in the present state of society, has raised himself from pov-
erty to affluence, it is a natural presumption that he has
effected so great a change by the vigor of his intellect, the
wisdom of his plans, the energy of his character, and by that
which enters into all true genius, the power of mental appK-
cation. It may be indeed that his success is due rather to
circumstances than to his individual jjower, to the steady
application of the lowest qualities of mind, or to a system of
dishonorable traffic. Yet with this fact the presumption has

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 153

nothing to do, and in tlie absence of direct knowledge on tlie
subject, it is perfectly natural to suppose, that the acquisi-
tion of his influence is due to the steady exertion of mind in
that one direction, similar to that which has carved out the
fame and the power of the statesman, the orator, and the
great captain.

In the case of one who has inherited property the pre-
sumption is virtually the same. It is perfectly natural to
presume that such high advantages for mental improvement
have not been enjoyed without coiTcsponding results. What-
ever the facts may be in any given case, We expect in general
that a man who from his youth has enjoyed the instructions
of the best masters and had scattered around him from the
cradle the materials of knowledge and intellectual refinement,
will have attained something noble and large — a degree of
information and refinement superior to that possessed by
those destitute of his advantages. If, owing to parental in-
dulgence or his own jDerversity, he should grow up, unlettered
and uneducated, a rational expectation is disappointed — a
natural presumption is broken, A wealthy ignoramus in
such a case destroys the illusive spell and revei'ses the en-
chanter's wand. The very fact that he is presumed to have
attained to the heights of intelligence because he has possessed
every facility for the lofty ascent, lends tenfold vividness to
the contrast and power to the reproach.

Leaving,- however, particular cases and returning to the
general statement, with which we set out, it seems clear to
us that when we enter a village, om* impressions always are,
at first, in favor of the presumed intelligence of the wealthy
proprietor. If, on entering his mansion, I meet with mental
imbecility, rudeness and ignorance, the quick revulsion of
feeling — the blank disappointment, is the most unerring tes-
timony to the force of that presumption of intelligence in
which we naturally indulge until facts destroy its power.
And thus it appears that even the aristocracy of wealth leans
for a portion of its dignity upon its presumed connection with
cultivated mind — even large possessions without it can not

154 LITEIIAKY ADDRESSES.

dignify its possessor, nor exalt ignorance and imbecility to a
station of respect.*

Let us turn now to the aristocracy of official station, as
a brilliant illustration of the influence of mind. There are
in society some offices of sj)ecial trust and responsibility,
which attract to themselves, in a peculiar manner, the respect
of the community. It needs but a glance at these official
stations, to perceive that along with uprightness of charac-
ter, vigorous mind enters as an imjiortant element into the
honor with which they are crowned. To be an efficient judge
— a successful governor, there should be in the man himself
a mental power of no common kind, rendering him equal to
his station. Such stations involve the decision of questions
complicated and profound, which demand a clear mental vis-
ion in conjunction with a right and vigorous will. The men
who are to j)reside over courts civil or ecclesiastical ; who as
senators are to give character to the legislation which is to
determine the prosperity of a nation ; who are to represent
us at foreign courts and canvass the wide field of interna-
tional law ; who are to preside over our colleges, educate
our rulers, marshal our armies, and guide our navy, are called
by the very nature of the stations they fill, to exercise talents

* To prevent the possibility of misconstruction, it maybe well to remark that
it is foreign to the argument, as it is to my belief, that the possession of wealth
infers of course superior intelligence. Such a theory would not stand an hour
amidst the too numerous opposing facts. It is a matter of curisus speculation,
however, in what way the presumptive connection between vigor of mind and
wealth, referred to above, arose. It would be unjust to a large class of men to
assert that it had no sort of foundation in fact. We think it can not be denied,
that as a body, the men who make their own fortunes are characterized by
shrewdness, tact, and energy. "Where there is one "Lord Dexter," with his suc-
cessful foUies and fortunate, but mad ventures, there are a dozen acute and in-
telligent Lawrences. It is too often the case, however, with such men, that their
mental power all lies in one direction^ and that they fail in attaining comprehen-
sive views and large mental acquisitions. The same remark is true in reference
to the majority of the most able men of all professions. Few seem to possess the
taste or the time for those more general studies which give to the mtellect a wide
range of action — a point of survey lofty as the mountain crag on which the eagle
builds his eyrie, and exalt the man above the low and narrow walk of a single
profession.

THE SUP K EM AC Y OF MIND. 155

the most commanding and wisdom the most profound. To
place imbecility on the pinnacle of such exalted station, is to
make sport of the dearest interests of society. Mind, vigor-
ous mind, educated for its work, claims these positions as its
own. Seated there it works with its own mighty lever, for
the accomplishment of vast and glorious results. The intel-
lect of a Napoleon, a Newton, a Washington, a Franklin,
and a D wight, was all in harmony with the lofty stations
they occupied, and from them shone forth luminously upon
the world. Station — office, to them was only a higher point
from which each star might shoot its intellectual fire over a
larger sphere, within a wider horizon of intelligence. They
befitted their high positions, and to the world illustrated the
fact that these elevated offices gathered no small measure of
their luster from the intellectual glory of their incumbents.

Society may presume that a man is mentally competent
to the discharge of the duties they impose, and under that
presumption place him on these heights, but should it be re-
\ealed that they had enthroned imbecility, disgust and shame
would go down through all ranks to the very child upon his
mother's knee. The very title of these offices creates the ex-
pectation that vigorous mind is in possession of them ; and
surely it would be impossible long to preserve them in honor,
were their incumbents- usually characterized by the want of
mental power. Thus in the aristocracy of official station,
you can see how great is the influence of mind in creating for
them a dignity and glory essential to their permanence and
success. Here on the high places of society, a clear, a pro-
found, a ready intellect, is the orb which circles in its own
proper sphere. They are only lofty eminences from which,
not ignorance and imbecility may display themselves, but
knowledge and vast mental power irradiate the world.

In leaving the aristocracy of station, the aristocracy of
profession will afford us a closing illustration of the train of
thought we are endeavoring to unfold. In the outset it may
be well to remark, that in our land at least, all honest occu-
pations are truly honorable, and entitled to the respect of

156 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

society. But it is nevertheless a fact that all are not equally
injluential. While as genuine republicans we regard every
station and every virtuous profession as deserving our respect,
yet we can not avoid recognizing the fact which reveals itself
as the inevitable operation of causes beyond our control, that
there are some professions which gather to themselves in the
eye of society a pecuHar dignity and a special influence. I
speak of facts as they are — not as in our speculations w^e may
imagine they ought to be. A bricklayer and a lawyer, equal
in other respects in character, are not equally invested with
influence from their respective occupations. There is in all
society, with scarcely an exception, to some extent a grada-
tion of profession. Some are invested with a higher influence
and deeper hold upon the minds of men than others. And
perhaps it is impossible wholly to change this order, which
society has itself created, by its own spontaneous operation.
It is not my design, however, to justify the fact, but in part
to account for it, and trace out one of the leading influences,
in accordance with which this gradation has been constnicted.
In the main then, and after admitting the existence of
exceptions, it will be found that those jDrofessions which are
usually held in the highest estimation among the most civil-
ized nations, are those which are more purely mental in their
character. In the ruder states of society, physical attributes
and those pursuits which nerved the arm and disciplined the
eye and invigorated the body, held the foremost rank. The
Achilleses, and Hectors, and Milos, and Groliahs, and Sam-
sons, were the gi-eat men of their age and clime. Although
even then the inspiration of the poet and the wisdom of the
prophet were not without their influence. But as society
advances from the rude to the refined, and civilization en-
larges its boundaries, mere brute force loses its dignity, and
mind usurps its place and bears off" its crown. Our modern
athletse — the pugilists of the nineteenth century, hold a very
difierent rank from that of their famed predecessors, who dis-
played then* muscular energy in the amphitheaters of Athens
and Home. The ancients crowned the victors with the ama-

THE SUPKEMACY OF MIND. 157

rantli and seated them beside their kings ; we dress them in
fustian and send them to the penitentiaiy.

With the advance of the world in science and the inven-
tion of new modes of warfare, a new order of occupation has
been wrought out, and been followed by a readjustment of
the prizes of honor. The pursuits and tastes of men become
more refined and intellectual ; science and art rise into gen-
eral estimation. Militaiy tactics, the art of raj)id and skill-
ful combination of force in war, take the place of mere phys-
ical strength. War itself becomes a science, in which the
master intellect, though with unequal forces, usually remains
the victor. While what are termed the liberal professions,
the pursuits of educated mind, rise to the possession of com-
manding influence over the body of society.

Extreme cases will most forcibly illustrate our position.
Take then a hod carrier and a member of the bar or the med-
ical board. Indisputably there is a vast difference between
the spheres of influence in which those persons move — a dif-
ference arising from the fact that the point on which one re-
volves is low in public estimation, while that of the other is
elevated. Both may be honest and even good men. The hod
earner may be equal to the professional man in native intel-
lect, and he may, by the exercise of a vigorous mind, some-
times sway the greatest influence of the two. But if so, he
can only do it in spite of his position, and ordinarily without
any aid from it. So that in such a case it would after all be
the outbreaking of great mental power, which, like that of
Burns and Hogg, imparted to its possessor large influence far
beyond his own circle. Such men sometimes burst upon so-
ciety like meteors from the bosom of darkness ; the more
startling as they are unusual and unexpected. While their
brilliancy and their power is wholly intellectual, and which,
were it placed in a higher position, would usually fill a vastly
enlarged sphere. But in ordinary cases, the influence of the
one is limited, compared with that of the other, and limited
by the position he occupies. One is engaged in a kind of labor
that demands the smallest exercise of mind ; while the other

158 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

is called to the investigation of questions that require tlie most
patient and vigorous efforts of the human intellect. The miner
may delve in the earth and put forth little more mind than a
burrowing mole, similarly employed ; while the student tasks
his understanding to its utmost capacity in evolving the great
princijiles of jurisiDrudence or the pathology of disease incident
to our corporeal frame. Hence, in part at least, for there are
)ther collateral causes combining with this to produce the
result, the latter stands before the community in a high and
influential position, while the former occupies the other ex-
treme.

Now as in these cases intellect vindicates its dignity and
asserts its appropriate position in the estimation of cultivated
society, so to a greater or less extent, its influence can be seen
in deciding upon the order of estimation in which the various
occupations of men are actually arranged. The posts that
demand little skill and intelligence, usually range lowest ;
while as greater power of mind is requisite to fill them prop-
erly, they ascend in influence. If here and there a profession
that demands great abilities is undervalued, it is so ordinarily
either from ignorance of the fact or from some counteracting
moral cause. But in the main, if a profession requiring great
intellectual power be honest and essential to the comfort and
refinement of society, it will in time take and maintain its
true and that a lofty position in the estimation of men. Thus
cultivated intellect arranges the gradation of human pursuits,
and in the order of the professions displays its dignity and
commanding power. As the water crystallizes according to a
certain law, upon the withdrawal of a degree of heat, so so-
ciety, upon the withdrawal of ignorance and brutishness,
spontaneously classifies itself according to a law of intellec-
tual power. And in so doing there is evinced alike the force
and native dignity of the human mind.

But besides the aristocracy of profession, in this general
sense, it is equally true and equally pertinent to our subject,
that each profession and trade has usually its own aristocracy,
formed mainly according to the intellectual power of its mem-

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 159

oers. In the law, and medicine, and the ministry, there are
Ueights of professional attainment — distinguished minds among
a multitude of laborious minds ; stars of greater magnitude
and brilliancy. The Blackstones and Burlamaquis and Mar-
shalls — the Harveys and Coopers and Rushes — the Whitefields
and Edwardses and Halls and Griffins, indicate a higher order
of intellect in their several professions than the mass exhibit.
So it is with your merchant princes — your Hancocks and
Morrises and Bartletts and Jameses. Each profession has a
wheel within a wheel. The master mechanic has reached a
post which demands of him a more vigorous intellect than is
necessary to drive the plane or the needle. And as his sphere
of intellectual power enlarges, he ascends in his own profes-
sion to a point of increased influence. Thus Whitney and
Arkwright and Fulton and Watt, placed themselves as arti-
zans upon the very toj^most heights of their professions, and
graved their names so deep and legible that the world may
read them for centuries. Thus Reynolds and Chantrey painted
and chiseled their way up to the loftiest positions open to
them — the one ennobled as the prince of j)ainters, the other
as the chief of stone-cutters. It was the outflashing intellect,
working in the hand of the mechanic, scheming in the brain
of the merchant, pleading with the tongue and pen of the
jurist and divine, that lit up, in the living firmament, this
galaxy of lustrous stars. There they shine, the calm, clear
radiance of mind, shedding its glory over the face of human
society and lighting it up with a portion of the splendor of a
liigher sphere. In all these illustrious names — names wiitten
out

" On the living sky
To be for ever read by every eye,"

there is a testimony to the dignity and force of mind, which
time will only brighten, never obscure. In this aspect then
of the aristocracy of the professions, as well as from all the
other points which have passed under our view, we see por-
trayed most vividly the elevating power of mind.

160 LITER AKY ADDRESSES.

I have developed this train of thought thus at length, for
the purpose of evincing to you, that in the attainment of
many of the highest prizes of honorable earthly distinction, a
vigorous and cultivated mind is not an unimportant element
of success. It is time, however, that I proceed to point out
to you some of the various applications which you may make
of the knowledge and mental discipline, acquired in your at-
tendance upon the library and debates and lectures of this
Association.

The most prominent object to which a cultivated mind
may apply its powers, is tliat j^'^^ofession which you have
chosen as a means of honorable subsistence. There is a dif-
ference, as I have already remarked, in the degi-ee to which
different occupations task the intellect. There are some which
necessitate the incessant exercise of the highest powers of the
mind. There are others which allow, without requiring, in-
tellectual effort in a high degree. To plead well — to preach
well — to understand the pathology of disease, a man must
think ; but he may sell a yard of tape or a piece of goods,
and do it well, without much mental effort. Admitting then
this difference in the absolute requirements of different pro-
fessions, yet it should be remembered that most of these allow
the exercise of large abilities and a well-stored mind. Let us
take the case of the merchant akeady refen'ed to. It may
demand no great amount of knowledge to be an expert sales-
man and go through with the more ordinary parts of his busi-
ness, but if he would thoroughly understand his profession
and carry his intellect into it, he will find a thousand things
connected with it that may give scope and employment for
his most vigorous powers. Let him study the character of
the articles that he sells ; the growth of their materials and
the method of their construction. He may investigate the
origin, and form and development of the cotton plant — the
countries that produce it — the processes by which the staple
is prepared for the factory — the mode in which it is spun and
woven and dyed, until it comes forth the beautiful and deli-
cate fabric fit for queenly robes ; and in the course of his re-

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 161

search he will have traversed a wide field of knowledge, and
examined some of the most interesting inventions of the age.
And in this waj let him push his examinations into the shawls
of Cashmere — the teas and silks of China — tlie gossamer fab-
rics of the land of the gay troubadour — the woolens and cut-
lery of England — the beautiful products of the looms of Tur-
key and Persia, and the spices of Arabia, and he will soon
find himself at home in all parts of the world. Inventions
and arts and sciences will enlarge his mind, and crowd it with
the material of a new life of thought. The fabrics that once
he handled, as the savage the telescope, whose construction
was to him a perfect mystery, now have a new and singular
power to interest and quicken his intellect. They are speak-
ing volumes of rich lore ; foreigners from a thousand climes,
brino-ino; with them a thousand new and wonderful ideas.
His store is an assemblage of the mind and art of all nations
— a specimen gallery of the productive handiwork of the
world. From its , shelves the Turk and the Persian — the
Hindoo and the Chinaman — the Gaul and the Briton — the
Puritan and the Cavalier look down peacefuU}' upon him and
offer their contributions to his intellectual feast. Gifted with
the knowledge of which we have spoken, he can see and hear
and hold communion with th se personages, invisible thougti
they be to the leaden vision of ignorance and sloth.

And besides this direction of study and thought, if he
aims to become an accomplished merchant, he must investi-
gate the character and capacity of the great markets of the
world — search out the nature and the extent of their produc-
tions ; understand the physical positions and commercial re-
lations of various nations, their exchanges, tastes, social char-
acter and wants, and accustom himself to survey intelligently
the varying aspects of commerce, with the causes at work to
destroy or promote its prosperity. The young merchant who
early commences, and with the power of true genius perseveres
in such a course of investigation and such an application of
mental power to his own profession, without question will in
time rise to a high rank in the scale of intelligence, and build

11

162 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

for Jiimself a character more truly desirable tlian the proudest
fortune ever gathered by human hands.

Take also the pursuits of the farmer. A person may cul-
tivate the soil, like the horse in a cider-mill, treading the same
unvarying circle of the habits and maxims of his fathers, with
scarcely any exercise of the higher powers of mind. But he
may also apply to such a pursuit, the most profound re-
searches into the nature of soils, and the chemical agents
which most affect the growth of vegetable life. Since the era
of your Buels and Wadsworths, and the treatises of Liebig,
book-farming is daily growing into repute, and our most suc-
cessful cultivators of the soil, other things being equal, are
the most intelligent.

In respect to the mechanic, it is scarcely necessary to re-
mark, that there is open before him the same wide field for
the employment of mind. If he would be among the most
skillful of his profession, he will find a thousand objects to
which his intelligence may be applied with the happiest effect.
If, for instance, he would rise to the character of a jDcrfect ar-
chitect, then in the beautiful language of another, he " must
be practically acquainted with all the materials of building —
wood, brick, mortar and stone ; he must have the courage and
skill to plant his moles against the heaving ocean, and to hang
his ponderous domes and gigantic arches in the air ; while he
must have taste to combine the rough and scattered blocks of
the quarry into beautiful and majestic structures ; and discern
clearly in his mind's eye, before a sledge hammer has been
lifted, the elevation of the temple."

In the various branches of mechanics, also, there is room
for almost boundless improvement. In all probability we
have not yet reached the heights of excellence in some of those
branches which have been attained in the past ; which now
look out upon us from the vast and mysterious pyramids of
the Nile, and of which they alone remain the silent memorials
without imparting to us a single hint that would enable us to
discover the great mechanical agencies by which thoy were
piled up to heaven. Nor can we contemplate the triumphs

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 163

of a Watt and a Fulton, without feeling that the mechanic
is upon a wide and unexplored territory, where genius, prop-
erly trained and rightly directed, can not fail of discovering
either new forces or new methods of aj^plying those already
known, which may effect great changes in the aspect of the
world. Surely the power of combining afresh the various
forces of nature is not yet exhausted. Inventions in the arts,
advances in the sciences, improvements in machinery that are
to greatly reduce the present necessity for toil and produce, of
all that is rich and beautiful and needful for human luxury
or support, a much larger amount in projjortion to the means
employed, seem to lie just ahead. Perhaps there may be
among you some mind equally capable, with that of Whitney,
of bringing to perfection a machine, which, in its ultimate in-
fluence upon commerce, may far surpass his world-famed cotton
gin ; or a mechanical genius, which, like that of Cartwright
and Fulton, will revolutionize the weaving and the transpor-
tation of the world. Surrounded by such a creation, with the
myriad forces of nature that are known at his feet, and, it
may be, many yet to be detected by the prying eye of genius
on every side of him ; with the materials for working up to
perfection in any line of labor he may choose, let no young
man despair of a successful application of intelligence to his
own profession. It may be you are destitute of what is called
genius. But what is genius ? Why, to some minds the
embodiment of it is a learned blacksmith, forging metals in
his smithy eight hours a day, mastering scores of languages,
from the mellifluous Italian to the jagged Sanscrit, in an
equal portion of time, and then electrifying large audiences
by his burning words and gorgeous imaginations. To others,
a misanthropic poet, with bare neck and bushy hair, is the
very type of genius ; while to still another class it is a preg-
nant creative brain, from which, like that of Napoleon, or
Scott, or Chatham, the mighty scheme or the beautiful image
comes forth as instantaneously and as perfect as the creation
sprang into being and order from the great First Cause.

Now, I do not deny that there are intellects by nature in-

164 LITERARY ADDRESSES,

vested with greater powers of invention and profound thought
than others. It is not according to the ordinary rule of divine
operations to create a dead level in the world of mind. It is
an opinion in strict accordance with the intellectual j)henom-
ena of the race, and with the analogy of a world, on every
part of which is impressed the most astonishing diversity of
form, weight, and color, that the human intellect, like the
human countenance, has always its own native characters in
some of its lineaments diverse from all others — that there are
men who, with the same training as others, will yet overtop
the multitude, and stride with amazing rapidity ujj the daz-
zling heights of science. But while it seems thus clear and
natural that the same law of original formation should prevail
in a degree in the world of mind that has reigned in the ma-
terial creation, we yet hold that the great mass of men may
possess to some extent that power which constitutes the chief
force of genius — the poiver of mental ajjplicatimi. The abil-
ity to hold the mind steadily and long to any given subject
until you have viewed it in all its parts and in every light, is
the highest attribute — the prime element of genius. This
power is one susceptible of vast increase by cultivation. And
the man who has the ability to fix his attention deeply upon
any branch or toj)ic of scientific pursuit, has the great element
of that splendid success which crowns the name of Newton
with imj^erishable luster. Let every young man seek to bring
into his own profession all the intelligence within his reach,
and though he may not win a place in the constellation of the
immortals, he will nevertheless elevate that profession and
command the resjiect of all within the circle of his acquaint-
ance.

I have a friend, who, though he has numbered little more
than thirty summers, has contrived in the midst of a labori-
ous life, to make great progi'ess in science. Having received
a good academical education, he early entered a bookstore.
Here, in the midst of ceaseless toil, and effecting far more
than most men in their own line of business, he has mastered
several foreign languages — maintained an active coiTes2)ond-

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND, 165

ence with some of the most distinguished literati of Europe —
investigated thoroughly most of the natural sciences — gone
up into the heights of astronomy, and down into the depths
of moral philosophy, and made himself familiar with books
of all kinds, from the last number of the "Journal of Sci-
ence" to the deep solutions of the " Principia," and the sub-
lime speculations of the " De Natura Deorum." His life is
one incessant development of the idea of Industry. No hour
— no moment, but has its employment ; and no day passes
without some new line traced out on the canvas of his life.
Such devotion, wherever it is found, must as surely work out
a glorious issue — a fine and noble development of the intel-
lectual man, as the revolution of the earth brings forth the
c;hanging seasons. Such mental application would encircle
all your jjrofessions with intellectual light, and open in the
book of civilization a new leaf of glory. Remember that sci-
ence and art, far from being in the decrepitude of age, we
have reason to believe, are yet in their vigorous youth ; and
there are yet to be ascended eminences of intellectual achieve-
ment towering into the everlasting sunshine, as far above the
past, as the massive pyramids of Pharaoh, and the sublime
dome of St. Peter's, exceed in vastness and beauty the log
cabins of our western wilderness. Let each one, by the force
of his intellect, strive to enlarge the intelligence and elevate
the mind of his own profession, and society will feel the up-
ward impulse thrilling to her lowest extremities.

Another large subject for the application of your intelli-
gence, is spread out before you in the relations you sustain
to our civil government. There is a proper sense in which
you are young sovereigns. You, in connection with your
fellow- citizens, are the ultimate source of political authority.
Between you and the actual legislation, indeed, there inter-
venes an intelligent instrumentality ; yet it is equally true,
that the ballot-box must ultimately sanction their acts, or
hurl them from their seats. In your citizen character, you
are to pass upon the great questions of state. And here
there is open for you a subject to which you may apply the

166 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

profoundest reason — the maturest judgment — the largest in-
telligence. Your problems of commercial restriction and
national enlargement in the acquisition of new territory, and
a currency co-extensive with the country, and others like
them, which our state and national progress are constantly
presenting to us, are not to be solved by a mere knowledge
of the rule of three, and Webster's spelling-book. Profound
questions, demanding clear heads, vigorous powers of reason-
ing, large mental acquisitions, and great patience in the col-
lection of facts, for their settlement, are every day opening
upon us. Where in ancient or modern times was there ever
a finer field for the application of the general intelligence of
the people ? Sciolists are not the men for these times. We
are settling precedents that are to reach forward for ages. In
law and legislation — on the bench and in the senate chamber,
we are yet busy in rearing and giving perfection to the struc-
ture within which hundreds of millions are to repose or perish.
You may not only be called upon to work uj)on this grander
edifice than the nations have yet seen, at the ballot-box, but
at the very seat of legislation itself The intelligence of our
mechanics and merchants, and lawyers and physicians, goes
up into the capitol ; and there you may be called to the dis-
charge of duties which will tax all the might of the mightiest
mind. In view of these high duties, history with all its thrill-
ing pictures of thrones and aristocracies, and curule chairs
crumbled by the hand of time, stands ready to teach you wis-
dom ; Grotius and Bacon, Newton and Herschel, flaming
beacon lights of law and science, ever shine to instruct you ;
while the genius of the past and the present, smiling down
upon you from the shelves of your libraries, pleads with you
by all the desolation of the past and all the opening glory of
the future, to get yourselves in readiness for the work, which
your position inevitably imposes upon you, as the young sov-
ereigns of the model nation of the world.

Nor are these the only ways in which your intelligence
may advantageously display its power for good. There is a
social life in which we all minole and which we must sustain.

THE SUPREMACY OF MIND. 167

Each of you creates for himself, or enters into it ah'eady
created, a little world, where the mind unrobes — where wit
and sentiment, and discussion exhibit their sweetest attrac-
tions— where love and friendship soften the sternness engen-
dered by the selfish conflicts of life — where intelligence and
refinement shed around the charm of a perennial verdure.
There is one little world where the tool and the pen — the
bond and mortgage — the day-book and ledger may not enter ;
but where social nature should be free to expand itself joy-
ously over the interesting circle. Here the really intelligent
man may contribute vitally to the elevation of societ}^ It is
not by playing the pedant and ostentatiously displaying his
mental acquisitions, but by an influence emanating from an
enlightened mind, as the heat from the fire, diffusing itself
unseen, while it warms and blesses. Society would be a far
more elevating school, and conversation a richer feast — a fuller
flow of soul, if they, who gave them character, knew and
acted on the principle, that whatever may be the outward
fashion, " the mind's the gold for a' that."

There is still another subject for the application of your
intelligence which can not be passed by. There is an aristoc-
racy of virtue, as well as of mind. Without it, intelligence
is itself only a blind force, such as Milton has embodied in
his gigantic creation of the prince of fallen angels. Without
it no man is perfect. Reason is God-like, but true religion
in the heart is more truly Deity itself The intellect is a
prince, wisdom is noble —

" Tet this great empress of the human soul,
Does only with imagined power control,
If restless passion, by rebellion's sway,
Compels the weak usurper to obey."

If you would be a man in all his nobler characteristics,
then the heart must beat true to every right afiection. In-
tellectually no person is perfect, who is the slave of vice.
There is a cog broken out of the wheel ; there is a mental
weakness which reveals itself in the loftiest intellects of this
class, the world has ever seen.

168 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

Here, too, in religiou are found the deepest questions —
vital to our highest interests, and profound bej^ond the long-
est line of mortals. Here Socrates reasoned, and Plato specu-
lated, and Cicero put forth the powers of his philosophic
mind. Here Bacon toiled, and Newton studied, and Locke
sank his shaft of thought deep into this mine of truth. It is
the grandest subject for the application of the most consum-
mate intelligence. It involves the past, the present, the fu-
ture. It carries us back to the birth of creation ; it conducts
us onward over all the intervening centuries, through all that
is most deeply interesting in the changing history of the
world ; it pierces the future and opens into the distant
depths of eternity vistas of immortality. No man is edu-
cated who is either ignorant or unsettled here. Some of the
otherwise finest intellects our country, or the world can boast,
have left behind them an imperfect fame — a character dis-
torted— a genius sullied by vice, or darkened by skepticism.
The memory of such men has no fragrance. Their intellectual
might awakens our astonishment at its greatness, and our
regret at its abuse. We may admire the force of their genius,
but we can never render them .the tribute of affectionate re-
spect. No man can neglect so sublime a subject of thought,
or one which involves such tremendous issues as religion,
without so far forfeiting his claim to the character of an in-
telligent and thoroughly educated member of society. And
every young man especially, should bring to it all the force of
the profoundest intelligence within his reach, lest the skeptic
fling him into a morass where he will struggle only to sink,
or the fanatic kindle in his bosom the meteor blaze that
heralds the blackest night of darkness. In the attainment
of well-settled, robust, and profound views on these high
themes, you need to invigorate your intellect and lay its
proudest offerings on this altar of noblest truth.

Young Gentlemen —

This institution was originated, these doors were opened,
and your library was gathered to develop and enrich mind

THE SUPEEMACY OF MIND. 169

— the young mind of this city. Thus far it has nobly ful-
filled this design. From the past action of this and kindred
associations, their utility is no longer a matter of experiment.
Long ago they have fully established their claims to the good
wishes of the old and the energetic support of the young.
They have called into action some of the best minds of the
nation. They have formed new points and orbits, upon and
within which the educated mind of the country might re-
volve. They have signally promoted the healthful inter-
change of literary men ; spreading their influence, and giving
scope to their talents in fields far removed from their own
firesides. They have provided fur our citizens occasions on
which they might listen without trouble, and at the most
trifling exjjense, to lessons of wisdom from the most brilliant
and gifted intellects in the range of our common country.
They have given to society discussions of deep interest on a
vast variety of subjects. They have organized into healthful
and united action much of the young mind of the nation.
They have done more than amuse it They have come in to
the aid of other conservative influences, in rousing it to right
action, in cultivating scientific tendencies, in substituting for
the vulgar wit of the bar room and the indecency and dissi-
pation of the theater, the miscellaneous intelligence of the
reading room, the learning of the library, and the calm and
pure excitement of the lecture. They have both stimulated
mind and opened the field on which it might expatiate. They
have nourished genius ; thrown open to the youth panting
for knowledge, the embalmed mental treasures of every age ;
and made the world's jewels common to all. In themselves
they are not a substitute for the school or the academy. But
their influence is all in harmony with the noblest institutions
of our country, conservative of law, morality and religion,
lending a brighter tint to society, and imparting new dignity
to the various professions of life. The lecture room may not
be the place for the acquisition of the profoundest views of
science ; but surely it stimulates the mind to work out in its
own silent laboratory tlie largest intelligence. It can not

170 LITEKARY ADDRESSES,

take the place of self-action, but it has a powerful influence
to rouse us to such action. It can not make a man, but it
can encourage the young by their own patient toil to reach
up to the stature of men. Society needs a thousand influ-
ences to develoj) and train up its hidden mind. In all ages
of the world it has sought for either animal or intellectual
excitement. Its thirst for amusement of some kind, is seen
in the festive days and games of the Greek — the saturnalia
and the gladiatorial exhibitions of the Koman — the theater,
and bull fights, and races of the Moderns. And it has been
for ages a problem for the wise to solve, so to control and
guide this feverish love of excitement, as to redeem it from
its brutalizing, its enervating influence, and enlist it as an
efficient aid in the moral and intellectual renovation of so-
ciety. To some extent your associations solve, that problem.
They minister to this love of excitement a healthful food.
They attempt not to repress, but to guide it to noble and
elevating ends. They have thus established for themselves a
position of power from which they could not be shaken, with-
out casting down a bright orb from our winter skies. While
they remain as they are now, religion and morality lend them
their hallowed sanction ; while every well wisher to the youth
of our cities, rejoices in their success. Could there be found
one with views so low and soul so contracted, as to refuse his
aid to sustain you, or carj) at your noble mission to the young
mind of our land, to such might we address with all propriety,
the scathing rebuke of the poet —

" Breathes there a man with soul so dead ? —
If such there breathe, go, mark hhn well ;
For him uo minstrel raptures swell,
Proud though his title, high his fame,
Boundless his wealth, as wish could claim
In spite of title, power and pelf
The wretch, concentered all in self)
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And doubly dying shall go down
To the vile earth from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored and unsung." *

YI.

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION*

It is among the advantages of these anniversary gather-
ings, that while they bring together men of thought and ac-
tion— men who are laboring with energy and far-reaching
purpose to create the most elevated form of civilization — they
also afford the occasion for discussions of a wider range than
those which belong to the ordinary routine of professional
employment. Education herself is the beneficent mother of
all true and noble thought. Allying herself exclusively to no
one profession or department of life, she ministers of her full-
ness to all the liberal and the useful. She prepares the foun-
dations on which they are to build ; embraces their future
work in the scope of her early labor ; and seeks to fashion
men who in different spheres will ajjply to noble ends the
powers she has disciplined. Her sympathies are with all la-
borers in the field of science, whether they toil as obscure
miners in the hidden veins of thought, after long years aston-
ishing the world with the rich ore they have discovered ; or
in the mint and the bank they coin and circulate the sterling
products of the mind. Her sons, as they meet within her
temple on these festive occasions, do her most fitting homage,
when, rising above the distinctions wrought out by the divis-
ion of labor, they stand as brethren on the common platform
of that science which belongs alike to all ; when, forgetful of
minor differences, they recognize only this center of union
and sympathy, and, ungirding themselves from the stern con-
flicts of life, indulge those kindly feelings which the associa-

* An address delivered before the Calliopean Society 'of Wabasli College,
July 23, 1850.

172 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

tions of the past, the sight of the present, and the anticipations
of the future are adapted to inspire.

They, too, who on these occasions are called to address
their fellow-laborers in the field of knowledge, can scarcely
present a fitter offering than those discussions for which their
particular pursuits may have qualified them — discussions of
topics not commonly dwelt upon in the ordinary course of
professional labor, yet often of deep interest and wide influ-
ence. Of Education itself, at such a seat of science, where
the living minds it hath trained stand before you, and the
voices of the young champions of truth it hath j)repared for
the work of life ring in yours ears, discussion would be super-
fluous. This very institution is its own eulogium ; and these
its sous, full of devotion to science, will abundantly vindicate
its excellence and extend its fame.

Called to address you from the midst of onerous profes-
sional labors, you will permit me to select a topic related
more partit;ularly to my own department of science — which,
while it is comprehensive of all literature, art, and knowledge,
yet belongs emphatically to that truth which, as a trunk,
bears the branches and connects them with the Author of all
things. I proj^ose for your consideration a few observations
on the various experiments in civilization, the forces essential
to the highest style of civilization, and the purpose of God
in the permission of so many seemingly abortive trials.

To one who looks out upon the w^orld as it is, and back
upon it as it has been, the scene presented is the most in-
volved and contradictory imaginable. Instead of flattering
the jDride of man, or inferring for him a glorious destiny, it is
full of pictures the most humiliating, of facts the most mourn-
ful. Amidst the rise and fall of nations, the spread and decay
of art and science, he seeks for some clue to thread the laby-
rinth, and discover the divine purpose around which these
opposite results may harmonize. The Deluge is there, en-
gulfing a quarter of the life of the race ; the ocean rolls over
all the earliest civilization of the world. Then follow the
Dispersion, the creation of new forms of speech, the forma-

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION, 173

tion and development of many and various nations, their as-
cent to power and civilization, and their mysterious return to
the oblivion from which they sprung. These form a problem,
the solution of which he seeks in vain. To effect what great
purpose have Asia, Europe, and Africa been the seats, now
of barbarism, then of civilization, interchanging from century
to century ? For what purpose these forms of government,
ranging from absolute monarchy down to simple democracy ;
forms of religion descending from the pure theism of Noah to
the reptile worship of Egypt, and then ascending to Chris-
tianity '? Forms of government, too, in religion, from the
pontifex maximus of Rome through hierarchies and synods
to the anti-formism of George Fox ? Here are vast moral
forces at work for long ages, in ways innumerable, resulting
in developments the most diverse and varied ; experiments
conducted on a scale of surprising grandeur, both in respect
to the long periods occupied, the numbers engaged in working
them out, and the magnitude of the interests concerned.
What, then, is the final purpose of all this life so indus-
triously at work for six thousand years ? The question is
not, what results does a single one of these forces effect, but
what is the grand resultant into which all those trials are to
be resolved ? What lesson is the universe to be taught ?
What preparation is here made for a nobler civilization than
the world has ever seen ?

There are those who regard all these as fortuitous occur-
rences. As the seed borne by the wind now falls in the cleft
of the rock, and now in the rich valley, germinating in the
one case a tree stunted and deformed, in the other a noble
specimen of vegetable life, so has the race of man colonized,
formed governments, built cities, warred, conquered, decayed.
The laws which control the movements of nations are isolated,
individual. History has no central chain along which all its
facts crystallize ; the parts are connected together, if at all,
by loose contact, as stones in a vessel, not as the corn in the
ear, with the germ in the earth from whence it came. To
this unscientific and atheistic hypothesis we make no specific

174 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

reply. Its defenders can not consistently liold to the provi-
dential government of One infinitely wise ; and denying that,
conviction is to reach them by other means than discussions
of this character.

Others, reflecting more deeply on these subjects, have
adopted a very diiferent theory — a theory of progress, accord-
ing to which the world, by these successive stages of discipline,
has been advancing from infancy to manhood, and is destined
to reach, at length, the full stature of a perfect society. The
past contributes to the present ; thought, knowledge, never
die ; nations may decay, may cease to exist, but that which
is of value to man, gained by their experience, survives ; it
passes over to their successors ; it becomes an element of im-
provement ; it grows itself in power, and then is delivered
over to succeeding generations. The life of the race is thus a
stream, widening and deepening as it flows, gathering upon its
bosom all manner of rich craft, and laving the shores of Time
with fertility and blessing. Man is on the whole rising ; the
world is gaining in knowledge — in religion — in all the ele-
ments of a complete civilization. If his life is not cut short
too soon, if the conflagration can only be deferred to some far
distant future, we may anticipate his elevation to a more
than paradisiacal perfection. This is a most beautiful theory.
It is full of hope, sanguine of good, replete with glorious
visions. Over that grand future which it declares is coming
on, imagination, restrained no longer by the stern facts of the
past, is free to spread her wings, and poetry here can create a
world of beauty, in the full assurance that it will yet become
a substantial reality.

This theory we accept so far as to adopt two of its leading
ideas ; we reject it so far as it pretends to give the philosophy
of these changes in history, the purpose of God in their per-
mission, and the precise mode in which the elevation of man
is to be accomplished. Unquestionably the end contemplated
by this theory — a far higher and nobler style of civilization
than any yet attained — is in perfect harmony with the an-
nunciations of prophecy — with those brilliant pictures of

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 175

times yet to come drawn by inspired pencils, and distancing
in their grandeur the sublimest conceptions of mere worldly
philosophy or poetry. Nor is it to be denied that the past is
made to contribute to the progress and perfection of the pres-
ent, as it will to that of the future. But with this admitted,
it is equally certain that the elevation of men is not to be se-
cured chiefly by the increase of knowledge flowing from the
various experiments of history, and so creating a new and
pure atmosphere around society. Neither in the past, nor in
any of the laws that connect us with it, is there j)ower suffi-
cient to warrant the supposition that, through the gradual
advance of century after century, the race, becoming generally
and thoroughly enlightened, would, in time, work itself clear
of all its social evils, and attain an elevation of perpetual
purity and peace. Whatever homoeopathy may accomplish
in medicine, we are sure that in respect to human progress it
is of little avail — that it needs mightier forces than these mi-
nute contributions, saved from the wreck of nations, to pre-
serve others from a similar fate, and lift them to a nobler
destiny. Surely it is not alone for these slight advantages
that mighty kingdoms have flourished and decayed ; that the
world presents to us such magnificent experiments ending in
failures so disastrous. If the life of the race may be likened
to a river, it is a river now deep, then shallow ; now broad,
then narrow ; now dashing in cataracts, then creeping slug-
gishly ; now swelling over its banks, then almost losing itself
in wide-spreading saharas.

In this discussion it will aid us to have present a definite
idea of that highest style of civilization toward which the
world is advancing. This involves five things.

1. Bread. Food and raiment in abundance, with only an
amount of physical labor consistent with advancement in
other respects, is a radical idea of all true civilization. A
state in which multitudes are compelled to live at the lowest
point of physical endurance, where the brawniest arms and
the most skillful hands alone earn a fair livelihood, while the
weak and the less ingenious stand ever on the threshold of

176 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

starvation — such a state, no matter what other advantage it
may possess, or how many may roll in luxury, or what argo-
sies it may send forth on the broad ocean, is yet deficient in
the first elements of a true civilization. That is elevation
above the savage ; this is depression in one point below him.

2. Freedom. The liberty of self-government and self-
advancement, with only such restraints as are indispensable
to the secure enjoyment of that which we attain, and which,
therefore, really quicken men to action by the stimulus of a
sure reward, belong to the condition we are now contemplat-
ing. A civilization in strata — a sort of geological civilization,
with all the soil and the verdure, and the fruits and the beauty
above, and all the sand and stones below, is far removed from
our ideal of a perfect state. Despotism can never consist with
this condition, unless the despot be himself the noblest being
in the universe. Without the ability to rise through all gra-
dations of soceity ; without an open pathway to the highest
positions from the very lowest, in a world like ours there
never can be realized the purest form of national life.

3. Knowledge. Into this civilization there enter science
and art, the study of all that is beautiful and excellent in na-
ture, the production of forms of beauty and grandeur, of
those innumerable instruments by which the taste is gratified,
labor diminished, the comforts of life increased, and distant
regions approximated. These advantages of knowledge, no
longer confined to a limited circle, are diffused through the
whole of society, dignifying the lowly and enriching the poor.

4. Social peace and harmony. War, which a philoso-
pher of note afiirms is the natural state of man, is wholly
foreign to this noble condition of society. With the exclu-
sion of all social institutions that exalt one at the expense of
another, the leading external causes of strife are banished.
With equal privileges, the motives to discord are greatly re-
duced. That civilization is confessedly most imperfect, in
which the most attractive music is the clash of swords and
the roar of artillery ; where the camp and the court-room,
the arsenal and the jail, stand in the front rank of society.

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 177

That, state lias risen to a most noble position, in whicli the
prevalence of peaceful arts, humane dispositions, and enlarged
views have banished the drum and the war-horse, and turned
the court-room into a stage for the quiet arbitration of diffi-
culties.

5. Pure religious faith. This quality of civilization, al-
though not visible, is yet the secret spring of all its goodness.
Without elevated affections, healthfully developed toward
Grod, and spreading themselves benevolently among men, so-
ciety can never attain completeness. The education of the
heart in all excellence ; the communication of those princi-
ples of faith by which a soul is anchored, so that no storm of
passion, no currents of selfishness can bear it off into licen-
tious indulgence ; the indwelling of divine influences, of G-od
himself as a sovereign and father in the heart, ever saying to
its native turbulence, " jieace, be still ;" — these constitute an
element of popular prosperity, often overlooked, but neverthe-
less the most essential power in the whole social system. These
five things — bread, freedom, knowledge, social harmony, and
a pure faith — are the leading elements of that complete destiny
to which the race is advancing.

Now, when it is affirmed that man hitherto has lived as
the infant, the child, the youth ; that this being the case, the
jiast experiments and attainments of the world are furnishing
the secret poAver by which he will be enabled to ascend to his
true position, and attain his perfect manhood, and rise to the
highest civilization, we think too much plastic power is at-
tributed to the jDast, and that the theory fails to assign a suffi-
cient reason for the remarkable changes to which the race has
been subject. It is indeed surprising how comparatively trif-
ling, so far as we can see, are the contributions of the first
half of the life of man to his growth at this day. The his-
tory of the first three thousand years is written somewhere,
and will doubtless yet be read by us ; but for man, while here
on the earth, there remain only a few hieroglyphics to indi-
cate the scenes, the institutions, the changes, the attainments
of ages in time and innumerable millions of people. So far

12

178

L I T E K A R Y ADDRESSES,

is it from being true, as a universal statement, that no good
thought or art has perished — that all useful knowledge re-
mains when the nation decays, and passes over to some other
heritor — that the very o|)posite assertion is most probably
correct. Certainly the advocates of this opinion can never
prove it, while there are strong probabilities, lising even to
certainties, that there have been periods in the world when
the most profound national ignorance succeeded the most
brilliant attainments ; that it seems to have been a part of
the divine plan that many nations should woik out for them-
selves their own elevation or degradation, with little assistance
from the past or their cotemporaries ; and that there are now
hidden from our eyes histories, and achievements, and sciences
belonging to the past, that, once unfolded, would thrill through
the heart of universal man. Authentic history, if we except
the sacred Scriptures, hardly reaches back twenty-five cen-
turies. Yet how immensely valuable, how intensely interest-
ing, in all probability, would be the records of the preceding
period ! What remains to the world of antediluvian civiliza-
tion .? What record declares the form and results of that
postdiluvian empire in central Asia, to which so many other-
wise unaccountable facts seem to point ? What knowledge
of Egypt .^ We have her Zodiacal circle, her solemn and
gloomy temples, her pyramids standing sentinel over buried
(empires, her mummies and hieroglyphics. But in wdiat man-
ner, in what state of society, were those pyramids reared ?
Who understands the mysteries of Isis — mysteries which, like
those of Eleusis, sent forth a mighty influence upon both
prince and people .^ It is even yet in disj)ute what elements
of knowledge and religion Egypt gave to Greece, or whether
that queen of the nations is indebted for a single pearl in her
coronal to this ancient monarch of the Nile. What knowl-
edge of Assyria and Babylon ? A torn leaf of a splendid ro-
mance ; a few admirable sculptures, exhumed by the patient
enthusiasm of Layard ; a few brief sketches in the sacred
volume ; two or three half fabulous chapters of profane his-
tory, arc all that remain of those once the most magnifi-

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 179

c;orit and powerful kingdoms on the globe, confessedly far ad-
vanced in civilization, and inferior to no otlier nations of their
time in art and science. There is in the quarry at Baalbec, a
stone seventy feet in length, fourteen high, and fourteen broad,
hewn ready for removal. By what means they transported such
immense masses, antiquity informs us not. Etniria, Phoenicia,
and her fair daughter Carthage, what have they given to the
world in comparison with their age, their grandeur, and their
attainments, as an element of power to assist in working out its
final elevation "^ Their temples and palaces — the productions
of their poets, orators, philosophers, and statesmen — their me-
chanic arts and j)ractical sciences, have all gone down into
oblivion. What art can now dye the Tyrian pm^ple '? Nay,
who can discover that modern secret — the mode in which the
artist of the middle ages stained in such exquisite tints the win-
dows of cathedrals and abbeys in Europe .^ Who can restore the
four hundred thousand volumes destroyed by the soldiers of
Omar in the capture of Alexandria .^ Where are the lost books
of Solomon, of Livy, of innumerable authors, the natm-alists,
historians, philosophers, theologians of their day ? Where
are now the treasures of Arabian literature — of that Augus-
tan age when, at Bagdad and Cordova, learning flourished
gi-een and rich in fruits most jirecious, at the very time its
stock laid withered to the root in Eome and Athens ? The
Almansars and Abd-Alrachmans of the East and the West
have left no successors ; while their splendid libraries, scat-
tered to the winds or hidden within the palaces of ignorant
pachas, are lost to the world.

As we approach our own times, it is easy to trace the in-
fluence of two nations upon the literature of our day. Grecian
taste and Koman law reveal themselves clearly enough in mod-
ern society. Yet on this subject we venture two assertions.
Tlie first, that the chief element of the more advanced civili-
zation of this day is Christianity ; the second, that whatever
advantage we have derived from the nations just mentioned,
there is to be set off against it their influence in corrupting
Christianity, and so enfeebling the very power which was

180 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

working out the regeneration of the world. It is not from
them influences are to proceed greatly influential in human
elevation. Their chief power is past — its results are known,
and known to be insignificant compared with the wants of
man. Not solely for these ends were they raised to such a
height of dominion and refinement.

Must we then look upon the life of the world hitherto as
an ocean, now washing away one side of a continent, then cast-
ing up its sands on another, gaining here what it loses there,
tossed with winds, driven in secret currents, ebbing and flow-
ing, yet much the same after six thousand years as at the close
of one ? Is there no real advance ; no influence from the
past tending to the exaltation of the future ; no forces potent
enough to elevate the world to that state for which all this
creation gi'oans ; no higher ends to be accomplished than such
as are now visible ? In the heavens each satelHte has its
proper motion round its primary, and each planet a motion
round the sun ; while we have reason to believe that this
whole system has still another motion, an orbit immense and
grand, around another center. Thus, while in their com-ses
there are relatively backward movements, yet absolutely there
is a steady progr-ess. There is a secret force lodged somewhere,
not now fully known to us, in obedience to whose attraction
they are all pressing round the vast circle that encompasses
the central power. It is thus with our world. These nations,
rising and falling, returning upon themselves, and inverting
the order of ascent at the very time when all things promise
fairest for progress, are parts of the life of the race, satellites
and planets, in the vast system of providential government.
Neither their advancement nor their retrogression is without
connection with the steady progress of the whole round the
gi'and center.

The great problem in this world — excluding the world of
spirits and eternity — is by what means to impart the noblest
civilization to ftiUen minds — to minds naturally prone to bar-
barism. Were it not so ; were there no strong tendencies
downward adverse to his elevation ; were, indeed, the chief

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 181

forces strongly set toward whatever is pure, and noble, and
excellent, then, unquestionably, the solution of the problem
would be the easiest in the world. Left to himself he would
soon throw off his weights, and soar into his native heavens.
There might be obstacles in his way ; but we are well assured
that they must yield to the constant effort of such powers
steadily directed against them. Long ago, had this been the
case, the world would have reached its meridian of glory and
blessedness. It is the fact that man's nature is earthly,
that constitutes the difficulty of a full solution of this ques-
tion.

The answer to it is purely theological, yet is it none the
less vitally associated with literature, science and art — all
that is beautiful in form or noble in thought. The power to
reach man, to give him the grandest civilization, is from with-
out— from God. The Word that inspiration has written, and
the Spirit that divine wisdom bestows, are the powers which
are to effect this result. Here it is well to speak more fully.
There are those abroad, in common with us, seeking for the
solution of the same great problem, who dignify their schemes
of reform as the developments of true Christianity, and the
realization, in the fullest degree, of the Christian dispensation.
Regarding Christianity as mainly a scheme for the bettering
of man's condition here, they necessarily lose sight of some of
its most essential truths. Appending to their scheme of social
organization that portion of it which is more or less common
to all systems of morals, and which they might just as well
have taken from Socrates or Cicero, they baptize the whole
compound Christianity. They girdle that glorious system,
and then take the deadened, leafless trunk, as the living tree
that is to be for the healing of the nations. In opposition to
all such theories, we regard in this experiment Christianity
as a whole — a complete system — adapted to the largest wants
of man. We include all its doctrines, its depravity, its cross
aud atonement — its divine sovereignty and the efficacious
working of the Holy Ghost — its precepts and sanctions, prom-
ises and revelations of the future world. It is the entire sys-

182 LITERARY ADDRESSES,

tern wliich is yet to be made available in securing the perfect
civilization of the world.

In addition to this, we regard Christianity as aiming
primarily at our preparation for heaven ; secondly, only at
our elevation on earth. Her chief ends are future. Its fol-
iage and its blossoms are for time ; its fruit for eternity.
Thus its vivifying power is drawn from the other world. Its
grand agent is invisible. It is the descent of divine wisdom
and strength into man, to recover him from that pestilent fall
which has overspread this life and that to come with dark-
ness. Its power as a civilizer of the race is derived almost
wholly from its connection with the forces of eternity. To
elevate us for this life is a secondary object, a means to a far
nobler and more enduring end. The kingdom of Christ is
not properly of this world. But its sj)read and establishment
here will create the finest condition possible for humanity on
earth, at the same time that it is preparing spirits for a
brighter sphere. It is by the union of the two that power is
gained for temj)oral purposes. He who views the Christian
scheme as having respect chiefly to time, strips it of the force
essential to its success in time. Its success for this world will
be measured in the longest period by its success for the other.
It can only effect fully the civilization of the race here, by
preparing it most i3erfectly for a life most sublime and most
holy beyond the grave. It is this linking of time to eternity,
this bringing the forces of tJiat to work upon the heart and
mind of man in this, by which the grandest results are to be
secured.

Such is the theory, but at first it is only a theory — a
purely theological dogma, proved by no experience, demon-
strated by no facts. As mind is the subject of its operations
— the most subtle, variable, independent agent in the uni-
verse— so it never can be inferred absolutely before actual
trial, that this is the solution of the problem, or if, for con-
vincing reasons of another nature we attain this conviction,
yet the immense multitudes who are to be affected by it, can
never be so grandly impressed with the perfection of this

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 1S^1

scheme, and the wisdom of its Author, as by the demonstra-
tion of an actual experiment. To the completeness of this
impression, it must be illustrated both positively and nega-
tively. It must be shown by the failure of all other forces
that this alone can secure the perfect civilization of the world.
The ex|> riments must be so varied, and so protracted, as to
include a fair trial of all the chief kinds of influence that can
be brought to bear upon the human mind. They must all be
tried, or the illustration is not complete ; the one omitted
may be that which is able to effect the elevation of man.
They must have a fair, and therefore a protracted trial, be-
cause these causes act slowly, spreading themselves down the
slope of centuries, and gathering about them the spirit and
power of antiquity.

It might seem, at first, an easy matter to determine this
problem : it might seem as if a century or two at most would
be all-sufficient for this purpose. But that complex being,
man, is not thus easily compassed. The mind and heart are,
of all things, the most capacious recipients of influence ; they
are moved and molded by an infinite variety of objects. The
causes which move them are not only varied, but often slow
in theh operation. It is possible to quicken physical causes ;
it is possible that certain forces concerned in the stratification
of the globe, and the settlement of its chaotic masses, did as
much work then in a year as in other circumstances they
could do in a thousand. But it is not possible thus to hasten
the operation of moral causes. Mind itself matures slowly ;
feeling unfolds gradually. The man is to grow up not simply
as one, but in generations and nations, that similar influences
may mold him in the cradle, in the social circle, in the world
without ; that the power of each class of motives may receive
all the strength which tijne, which antiquity, which system,
and other leading influences interlocking with it, and increas-
ing its plastic energy, can bestow. Even in material science
there are some questions which centuries alone can solve.
There are disturbing forces in the sky, whose results the as-
tronomer observes, but their nature and origin he is unable

184

LITERARY ADDRESSES.

to determine till after the recorded observations of many cen-
tm-ies atford the data for his calculations. There is a star
whose revolution round its center is supposed to be one hun-
dred and sixty thousand years. If, then, in the world of mat-
ter there are cycles so immense, and problems solvable only
after the passage of slow moving ages, how much more rea-
sonable is it, that in order to the settlement of this stupen-
dous moral question, age should follow age, century succeed
century, decades of centuries rise and set ere the grand expe-
riment shall be fully tried, and the result announced to the
far-off and eagerly attentive worlds.

Let us here note some of the elements of this experiment,
and then select two or three as illustrations of the whole. In
determining the only means by which man can be exalted to
the highest civilization, there must come into trial, the influ-
ence of life long continued, and life brief and uncertain ; of
differences of language ; of social institutions ; of forms of
government and national distinctions ; of climate and physi-
cal position ; of the country and the city ; of war and peace ;
of luxury and poverty ; of commerce, agriculture and manu-
factures ; of law in all its forms ; of art and science ; of the
press, the pulpit and the school ; of religion, both in doctrine
and government ; of theism and Christianity • in connection
on one side with the simple and complex rites, with corrup-
tions and talmuds, rabbinical sayings and priestly additions ;
on the other with monarchy, hierarchy, republicanism and
democracy. These constitute a part of that great assemblage
of influences by which it has been tried to elevate man to the
highest earthly felicity. It is obvious that these experiments
are necessarily more or less intermingled and combined, ren-
dering the process of solution slower and more difficult. For
the influences at work must be combined in all Ihe different
modes of which they are susceptible, in order to furnish a tri-
umphant conclusion. It may be that sufficiency of food and
healthful labor are all that is essential ; or that these must
be combined with some one form of religion ; or these with
art and science ; or these with some peculiar government ; or

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 185

all these with an age of centuries to perfect their operation.
Where the elements are so numerous, the combinations on
which the final result is to depend may be greatly increased.
The Socialist tells you, " Grant me, 1st, land ; 2d, a certain
organization of social life, and I will build you up a perfect
state, a pattern community ; I will set up my bee-hive, re-
move the drones, set the queen adrift, elaborate the richest
honey, expel the worms, bar out the chill blasts of winter,
and exalt my little industrial community to the loftiest point
of civilization." Now, that which this man affirms of his
jjlan, millions have affirmed of theirs. " Let me select, let
me combine, let me watch and guard against adverse influ-
ences, and I will rear a grander Utopia than Plato, or More,
or Swedenborg, or Fourier ever imagined." Well, this pro-
cess of selection and combination, on the largest and most
protracted scale, has been going on for six thousand years,
and is still in progress. Let us look at some of these experi-
ments.

First in time, if not of importance, is the Methuselah
period — the age of physical and mental vigor, maintained
through long centuries. The experiments of those sixteen
hundred years must have been nmiierous and deeply interest-
ing. What an opportunity to determine the capacity of in-
dividual improvement in science and morals ! Think of an
investigation conducted by a ripe intellect in any direction for
six, seven, or eight centuries ; think of the steady advance of
a single mind through almost the entire period of the exist-
ence of the Eoman empire. What decisive results it could
attain during so immense a progress ! The mere decay
wrought by time within that period, would give the most
magnificent cities to ruin. The adding of a stone each day
would rear a palace of enormous dimensions, or a tower rival-
ing that of Babel. What progress in art could not the skill
of ages effect ! What architecture ! What statuary ! What
painting ! What music could not the artists, whose experi-
ence extended through eight hundred years, have achieved !
In general science, how jjrofound, how large, how admirable

186 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

the results would be ! Noiu, the strongest intellect has only
become well educated for its work, and fairly commenced its
investigations, when disease enfeebles its power of applica-
tion, or death totally terminates its relations to this world.
How often the chariot is arrested midway in its burning
progress to the goal, and the ardent spirit, animated by the
anticipation of victory, suddenly tumbled from his seat !
What vast projects, spreading far into the future, and des-
tined, could they be accomplished, to open new worlds of
thought, are left for ever unfinished by the rude • interference
of time ! Could Copernicus have lived to follow out the
magnificent system of the universe he had barely time to
trace and commit to the immortality of the press ; — could
Bacon have not only theorized, but demonstrated, not only
composed a new method of science, but prosecuted that
method with the matchless vigor of his intellect in a body
yet undecayed, for half a dozen centuries ! — could Burke
have advanced in political philosophy, and Edwards in the-
ology, for many ages, what rich and wonderful products
would they have given to the world ! Time corrects erroi'S,
changes points of view, gives opportunity for experiment, for
the comparison of opinions, for the abatement of prejudice,
the protracted culture of the power of discovering truth.
But now men barely get seated at their work before the pale
messenger beckons them away. The broken clue another may
tie, but that other may not rise for long ages. The openings
of grand thoughts, the vision of new mysteries, without a
question, are often closed for ever by the advent of death. No
other being in the whole history of the race may arise, who
shall occupy the same stand-point, and behold truth in the
same combination. But that past period gave full scope for
the experiment of time. Whatever man could do, they en-
joyed the opportunity of doing. To what heights of civili-
zation they rose ; what magnificent cities they built ; what
smiling arcadias greeted the morning sun ; Avhat provisions
for luxury, what experiments in government and religion,
they made, we do not fully know. But one thing we do

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 187

know, — the experiment of Time Avas a failure. Tlie mere
possession of age — of long ages of existence, in which human
nature might correct the evil, and work out the good in all
imaginable forms of beauty and utility — in which all the in-
fluences that meet us here might have room to show their
power in elevating this race to its high destiny ; — all this was
not sufficient. Whatever progress it secured in some direc-
tions, it failed in laying the broad foundation on which alone
true civilization could be permanently reared. It not only
failed — it signally failed ; it was a failure worthy of the
frightful catastroj^he which buried the unsightly fabric of
antediluvian toil from the sight of future generations, lest its
presence should aid improperly in vitiating all other experi-
ments. The records of that mighty age, when men of gigan-
tic form, who could look back over many centuries, thought,
planned, and wrought, are yet to be unrolled. When the eye
shall rest upon them, who will be able to doubt either the
magnificence of the exj^eriment in human legislation, or the
utter powerlessness of earthly forces, separate or combined,
in the case of such a temporary immortality, to work out the
grandest destiny of man ? The surgings of that angry flood
roar unceasingly, in the ears of heaven and earth, angels and
men, and on through the yet unborn future proclaim the sad
conclusion of the first great act of Time.

Lot us enter now upon another period — that which fur-
nishes the broadest field for the recorded experiments of his-
tory ; that in which life declines nominally to three quarters
of a centuiy, but actually in the great majority of cases falls
much lower. The conditions of the experiment are now
wholly changed. The alteration in the age of man introduces
a revolutionary element into all the previous combinations,
and necessitates a repetition of them. From the Flood on-
ward, the experiments in reference to civilization fill up each
age of history. But of these it will be necessary for our pur-
pose to select only two or three as illustrations of the failure
of the whole. We will select first an example of popular

188 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

freedom combined with popular intelligence and polytheistic
worship.

In the south-eastern peninsula of Europe dwelt a people,
free even to the extreme of democracy, intelligent to a degree
rarely equaled. Girt in by the waters, a nation, circum-
scribed within the circuit of a few leagues, rose to an emi-
nence in history to which the world has ever since looked back
with admiration, and from which, as a queen, she sent forth
her commands for centuries to the worshipers that kneeled
around her throne. Worthy was she of that queenly crown.
Never before had another such risen on the earth ; and few
since have appeared who dare pretend equality with her. The
stars that illuminated her firmament still shine serenely. She
gave to the world such forms of beauty as ever since have rav-
ished the senses of mankind. She sang ; the nations listened
enchanted. She speculated ; and men learnt to reason. She
wrote ; her narrations thrilled the soul ; the scenes of history,
instinct with life, moved before the eye a present reality. She
spake ; the tones of her eloquence swayed the heart ; the
earth gave audience ; her whispers penetrated far continents
and distant ages. She acted ; it was nature revealing nature
to the soul, passion sublimely impassioned, virtue avenged,
vice punished, law triumphant. She wrought ; the Parthe-
non arose. She fought ; Marathon, Salamis, Platea became
the watchword of freedom in all time. What nation is ig-
norant of her history ? What academy, college, university
worthy of the name, studies not her works .'' What land of
modern civilization seeks not to realize her beautiful forms ?

This wonderful perfection was national, universal. It was
not an exotic, reared in a royal conservatory to adorn a mon-
arch's court. There, statesmen, orators, poets, philosophers,
warriors, sprang spontaneously from the people. The roots
of their greatness derived vitality from the masses among
whom they grew. It they had genius, it was but a fuller de-
velopment of the genius of the multitude. If they possessed
intelligence, it was an intelligence not greatly in advance of
the mass for whom they wrought. They were the loftier oaks

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 189

of a noble forest. Their native genius, combining with a most
perfect system of popular education, gave birth to a remark-
able difiusion of general intelligence. Rarely in the world's
history can we find a nation more thoroughly penetrated with
the sj)irit of learning. Without a press, they yet studied,
questioned, listened to the most cultivated minds, judged,
passed laws, criticised works of arts. They seemed to live
mainly for the curious, the beautiful, the new. Their na-
tional enthusiasm inspired devotion to art, to science to let-
ters. An entablature, a statue by Phidias, an oration by
Demosthenes, a play by Euripides, moved the heart of the na-
tion. Their everlasting " n Kaivov^" and " n Kaivorepov" about
which both the Apostle Paul, and their own chief orator, de-
clared they mainly busied themselves ; their perfect freedom,
their self-government, their daily exercise in all those great
questions which have always tested the powers of the human
intellect ; the direct intercourse between them and their great
men, combined to lead them in this path of self-instruction,
and diffuse abroad a vast amount of general intelligence.
" Let us" — says one of the most brilliant critics and histo-
rians of the age — " let us for a moment transport ourselves in
thought to that glorious city. Let us imagine that we are
entering its gates, in the time of its power and glory. A
crowd is assembled round a portico. All are gazing with de-
light at the entablature, for Phidias is putting up the frieze.
We turn into another street ; a rhapsodist is reciting there ;
men, women, and children are thronging around him ; 4;he
tears are running down their cheeks ; their eyes are fixed ;
their very breath is still ; for he is telling how Priam fell at
the feet of Achilles, and kissed those hands — the terrible —
the murderous — which had slain so many of his sons. We
enter the public place ; there is a ring of youths, all leaning
forward, with s})arkling eyes, and gestures of expectation.
Socrates is pitted against the famous atheist from Ionia, and
has just brought him to a contradiction in terms. But we
are interrupted. The herald is ciying, ' Room for the Pry-
tanes.' The general assembly is to meet. Tlie peo})le are '

190 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

swarmiug in on every side. Proclamation is made — ' who
wishes to speak T There is a shout and a clapping of hands ;
Pericles is mounting the stand. Then for a play of Sopho-
cles ; and away to sup with Aspasia."

Under such a discipline, Greece must have enjoyed influ-
ences, the most etfective of their kind, for ennobling the char-
acter, exalting her to the highest point of civilization. What-
ever the most unlimited freedom of thought, speech, and action
could effect ; whatever art and popular intelligence could do ;
whatever dignity the responsibility of public measures, a per-
sonal interest in the minutest affairs of state, the opportunity
of daily witnessing the finest displays of genius, could impart
to the character — all this she possessed in the highest degi*ee.
Whatever purity and elevation the soul could derive from the
most artistic and beautiful forms of polytheistic worshij), the
grand and lovely images of gods and goddesses, the splendor
of their public celebrations, the aw^ful communion of their
mysteries, this was within her reach. If art, if taste, if senti-
ment, if general intelligence, combined with a genius for ac-
tion the most enthusiastic, and a field for its dis])lay the most
unbounded, in connection with the finest style of polytheism,
could secure the noblest state of man, then would this people
have attained that state, and left the world the legacy of a
model civilization. Yet who of her most enthusiastic admir-
ers ; who of those that have examined her history with suffi-
cient attention to discern the foul currents of passion that
beneath all this exterior of beauty were ever in motion ; the
pride, the sensuality, the levity, the ingratitude, the malevo-
lence, the ambition, the indifference to the noblest feelings of
religion ; who, understanding her whole character and history,
is willing to accept her as an illustration of the highest style
of civilization — of that destiny to which he hopes the race is
yet to be exalted ? Who, on the other hand, knowing her
well, will not pronounce this exjjerimcnt one of the most de-
cisive, though splendid, failures in the whole series of exper-
iments ! Possessing a part of the elements of true civilization
in great richness, she yet lacked the noblest, most efiective of

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 191

tliera all. Her civilization was natural, instinctive. It was
neither created by the highest form of religion, nor pervaded
by the pure spirit of divine love, nor irradiated by supernatural
intelligence, nor guided to the most useful ends by the pre-
cepts of a noble humanity. The mighty stream of evil passion
flowed on unchecked, unj)urified ; and though it meandered
through meadows enameled with flowers of every hue, amidst
parks of most majestic trees, aud by temples and palaces of
noble architecture, yet it was the same foul and destroying
current still. No prophet had sprinkled salt upon its bitter-
ness ; no intellectual cultivation had sufficed to cleanse away
its putridity. In due time the beauty that adorned its banks
faded ; its marble glories crumbled ; its majestic oaks lost
their foliage, and death and solitude reigned with an un-
broken sovereignty. Greece ! what is she now but a sad and
splendid illustration of the imbecility of these outward and
earthly influences to secure man's noblest elevation. For this
she rose ; for this she attracted by her meteor brilliancy the
notice of all time ; for this she set for ever in a night of gloom
and death. Her genius, still breathing around us, and des-
tined to live wherever the feet of civilized man shall tread,
now looks sadly down, and declares the necessity of other
and higher forces than mere freedom and intelligence, to
create and preserve the purest, richest, and happiest earthly
state.

Turn now to her colossal neighbor. Rome, from her pro-
tracted existence, her wide-spread dominion, and the changes
which the world underwent during her ascent to power and
subsequent decline, furnishes a variety of negative illustra-
tions of our subject. First, She illustrates the inability of
mere knv, however wise and just, however established in con-
stitutions and vigorously executed, to elevate a nation to the
liighest point of civilization. If Grreece was distinguished for
art and general science and popular freedom, Rome was, for
ages, equally distinguished for constitutional law. Her Senate
was a lar more august tribunal tlian that of the Areopagi.
Her forum gave birth to those statutes of justice which have

192 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

been wrought into the code of the civilized world. Around
her sons she threw a shield of brass, and the talismanic words,
" I am a Roman citizen," forced prastor and consul to respect
the rights of the State, though maintained by the meanest of
the populace. Even the conquered nations, though some-
times wasted with exactions, were yet in the main treated
with the justice that befitted the sovereignty of Kome, We
can not account for the steady maintenance of her power, and
the firm incorporation of so many diverse nations into one
empire, except on the supposition that she carried her prin-
ciples of civil equity abroad, and sought to ally the subject
people by lifting them to a comparative equality of privilege.
Such at least was the theory. It was law — known law — rul-
ing, rather than a king or an emperor. The death of Kemus,
for his contempt of law and right, was a fit type of the spirit
of that stern dominion. Its history illustrated the power of
law in the exaltation of a people. Yet this exi3eriment failed.
Excellent in theory, there was a secret force of evil that viti-
ated its practice. The masses were ever unhappy, restless —
a dark sea, tossing its unquiet waves and dashing things most
precious to destruction.

Then the emperor — the Cfesar rose. Another experiment
is tried. Vast power is centralized in a single hand. The
mightiest empire the sun ever shone upon, knew but one
master. He spake ; they trembled or rejoiced. He com-
manded ; swift-winged couriers bore the edict to the High-
lands of Scotland, the pillars of Hercules, the mountains of
Armenia. Yet this, too, was a failure. Stagnation followed
action ; the freeman, turned into the slave, lived to riot or
suffer. Man rose not so high under the emperor as under the
consul.

Again the experiment is changed. In the preceding cases,
the combination is with Polytheism. But now a purer reli-
gion began to spread itself abroad — to force even emperors
and pagans to recognize its divinity. The Immanuel had
died ; and Christianity, sealed by his resurrection, had begun
\wv world-wide mission of mercy. This mighty State allies

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 193

the ministers of this pure faith to itself ; they, in turn, cor-
rupted, by prosjjerity, and grown into an liierarchy, soon blend
the rites of paganism witli the simple worship of the religion
of the cross. Then began the experiment of Church and State
on the one hand ; of Christianity wedded to heathenism on
the other, as forces powerful to work out the el6vation of
men. They were both gigantic failures. The pure spirit of
religion shrunk from the profanation ; with the form of pagan-
ism came its power ; the baptism of its temples neither over-
turned its altars nor demolished its idols. The name was
changed, but, save in pomj) and splendor, the old worshi})
differed little from the new. The State itself declined in
power as the priest grew, until the experiment reached its
full demonstration, when the tiara tow^ered above the crown,
the mitre overshadowed the helmet, and princes with devout
humility held the stirrups for the apostate successor of Peter.
Behold here the result of spiritual authority, centralized in a
fallible mortal, spreading over a wide field, and operating with
a more fearful energy than did that of the empire ! Man
debased to the most degrading superstitions, yet bearing the
sacred name of Christ ; mind active only in rearing cathe-
drals, in foolish disputations, in feudal combats ; ignorance
settling thicker and darker upon the face of the earth ; dis-
cussion on all the high themes of religion restrained by a law
inconceivably horrible ; while even physical science must ask
on bended knee a priestly benediction, ere it dare publish to
the world its brilliant discoveries. Then were all souls cap-
tive, in dungeons dark, and strong, and terrible. At such an
hour, the clarion of the Monk of Wittemberg rang through
Europe ; it reverberated in the dome of St. Peter's ; its echoes
lingered in the Alps, and were repeated in the Highlands of
the North.

Another experiment began. Christianity was divorced
from 2)aganism, but yet it was cumbered on the one hand
with artificial forms of worship, and on the other by* state
alliances. Since then, these and various other combinations
have been tried. The church has been allied in turn to mon-

13

194 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

archy and democracy. It has been arrayed in all manner of
ritualism, and made to play a part subordinate to earthly in-
terests. These experiments have all been failures. Not that
Christianity has in any true sense failed. Wherever it has
been permitted to come in contact with men, it has wrought
with vast energy. It has upheaved continents of superstition,
abuse and ignorance. It has done all for man that was most
vital to his elevation. But in all these cases the experiment
of the power of Christianity, has been partially vitiated by
that which men have associated with it. They have mingled,
without a just appreciation of their relations, the human with
the divine ; used physical energy to assist moral influence ;
built towers of stone to strengthen the pillars of heaven.
Truth has often been like a thread of gold in a cloth woven
for the most part of perishable materials. When at length
the garment lost its strength and brilliancy, men blamed the
thread of gold, and not the miserable elements around it. Yet
did that thread remain unflided, unimpaired, as bright and
strong as when first woven. Oh ! had the world possessed
the wisdom to have used this material alone, this work would
have stood for ever.

Did our limits permit us to gather uj) the results of experi-
ments in human elevation thus far, it would be easy to show
that no mere earthly force has been sufficient to secure, for
even a brief period, that style of civilization which we now
anticipate. It would be seen that no form of government
and no merely social organizations have power to effect this
end. It would be demonstrated that no form of government,
combined with greater or less degrees of popular intelligence,
could secure the result. It would be manifested that none
of these, combined with any form of false reh'gion, or any
corruption of true religion, or even with Christianity itself,
when the alliance subjects the latter to the former, can suc-
ceed. It would be seen that even the art of printing, the
boasted liberty of the press, and the diffusion of intelligence
in itself, has no power to exalt or civilize the race. A vast
variety of forms, alone and in combination, have thus been

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 195

tried. There is in every experiment something wrong ; some
unguarded point ; some secret evil, which works the failure
of arrangements seemingly most wise. No matter what the
constitution of society may have been, the historian can always
see something which, if it had or had not been associated with
all the other elements, might have saved the State. There is
always something wanting to the perfect working or the per-
fect results of the best plan. All reflecting minds tacitly or
openly admit the failure of the combination as it was. Now,
if they could only find some other organization which had
succeeded — some one that, surviving the ruin of the rest, grew
brighter and stronger with the passage of time, elevating man
to the highest heaven of terrestrial blessing — then might we
exclaim with the ecstatic mathematician, " Eureka, Eureka \"
then we might believe that if Egypt, or Greece, or Kome had
only possessed this or that earthly element, they would have
given an abiding illustration of just the combination of forms
necessary to lift the race to its just position. But in the ab-
sence of such positive examples, amidst the overwhelming tes-
timony of so many dead and dying nations, amidst the wail-
ing of millions in their debasement and sorrow, we are forced
to the conclusion that all efforts to effect the largest civiliza-
tion of man by earthly influences have been, in the main, fail-
ures. Some things they have effected ; but they have not
effected the elevation of the race, or any large portion of it,
to that position for which it is qualified by its original endow-
ments.

Thus far, it is true, these experiments have been chiefly
negative and secular. Christianity or pure Deism has run
along through these earthly forces, and wherever their oper-
ation has been most free, the results have far transcended
those of any combination of other powers. Whatever is most
bright, whatever the heart loves to dwell upon with most de-
light, has been associated with the truth of God, It has been
well remarked by F. Schlegel, that " the majesty of antiquity
is felt to be indissolubly linked with images of decline and
ruin, for both arise from the same source — the dominion of

196 LITEIIARY ADDRESSES,

instinct, and the spontaneous development of nature." The
civilization of the past has been chiefly the development of
nature, and that the lower nature of man. The instruments
for effectinsr it have been drawn from reason and instinct.
The forces have been almost wholly secular and earthly, or if
other powers have been brought in, if religion has been intro-
duced, it has been rather as an assistant than as a sovereign.
The nature of man has been permitted to work its way and
reveal its richest fruit. But that nature, being itself in ruins,
without a total transformation, can never rise to a perfect
civilization. Aided by all the powers of reason, yet destitute
of strength from above, it can only attain an imperfect con-
dition— a perilous elevation in one or two directions — an ele-
vation unsustained and unguarded by the higher powers of
the soul, and from which it is certain to be precipitated by
the evil that is unsubdued in the heart. Here is the grand
difficulty with all past experiments in civilization. The in-
stinctive love of the beautiful and the orderly combined with
the most vigorous powers of the reason, may form art, and
law, and science — may thus construct the body of a civilized
society most symmetrical and majestic ; but in vain do they
strive to create a soul that in purity and love shall animate
that body, and guide its limbs, and use its senses for noble
purposes. All these trials show conclusively that man, left
to the workings of his own nature and reason, can never de-
liver himself from the evil that hitherto hath undermined his
noblest structures. But the experiment of religion — of pure
Christianity — the positive experiment, has yet to be fully
tried. Hitherto it has wrought in subordination to inferior
powers. Now it is to assume the first place. Men are to be
intent not so much on that which is outward as on that which
is inward, vital, saving ; not so much on mere forms of gov-
ernment as on se//'-government ; not so much on the dress
of life, as upon its spirit, its ultimate character. Christianity
is to create governments, and not governments to create Chris-
tianity. The order pursued in secular civilization is to be re-
versed. For without such a reversal, the positive example

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 197

can not be fully exhibited. Its operation will oblige men to
give it the first place in their thoughts, and listen reverently
to its teachings, and yield implicit obedience to its laws. It
is impossible Christianity should have a fair trial, unless it is
permitted to assume the relative position which the other
elevating influences of the past have occupied. As men have
listened to the voice of learning and eloquence, so must they
listen to these sublime teachings ; as they have bowed to
earthly rulers, so must they submit to God ; as they have
sought by mere organizations to cover the defects of their na-
ture, so must they seek from their heavenly Father the cure
of their distempered spirits. Such will be that positive ex-
periment by which the divine Wisdom revealed in the system
of the gospel, and the divine Spirit giving it life and power,
will first reform the impure nature of man, and thus enable
him to develop all his powers in their appropriate work. It
will reach out and remove the cause of national mortality.
It will make science and art consistent with purity and law.
It will spread abroad a civilization of the million rather than
the few, and make princes common, by elevating all men to
princely character.

What further examples of self-ruin, of blind effort ending
in disaster, of man struggling to raise himself from the mo-
rass, and sinking deeper, we are yet to witness before the trial
of this great experiment, does not yet appear. One thing is
most manifest — whatever particular or general experiments
are yet to be made, will be far more intimately connected
with the zuorld as a tvhole, than heretofore. In time past,
nations rose and decayed, with only occasional connections
with other nations. Their isolation gave a peculiar impress
to their character, and enabled them to illustrate more per-
fectly the operation of local influences in molding states.
But the tendency of this day is to universality. The earth,
long possessed by conflicting nations — nations so separated by
rivers, mountains, oceans, and their own intense selfish patriot-
ism, as to forbid the entrance of universal knowledge — is now
passing under the reign of influences that in time will level the

198 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

dividing walls, and net-work its entire surface with the means
pf rapid and constant intercommunication. Rome had a vast
emj^ire, traversed by solid roads in various directions. But
Rome was only a single nation, confined to the land, or creejD-
ing fearfully along the shore in her clumsy triremes. How
absurd her ideas of nations no farther distant than Britain !
What school-boy has not laughed at the description given by
Tacitus of the ocean that washes those northern isles, and
the ridiculous j^hilosophy by which he accounts for the vis-
cidity of its waters ? Now the ocean is as truly the home of
millions as the land. Compare an ancient war galley with an
American frigate. What want of adaptation and power in
the one ; what life, force, majesty, in the other ! That was
bounded by the Mediterranean ; this jDresses the everlasting
ice chains of the poles. The earth has no nook so secluded, no
retreat so hidden, as to escape the Humboldts and the Lyells
of this age. Steam — the chief agent as yet in the approxi-
mation of the distant — has but begun its reign. Half a cen-
tury has not elapsed since it was successfully applied to
locomotion. Five miles an hour satisfied Fulton ; twenty
miles an hour on railroads, a few years ago, was declared to
be highly dangerous ; while more recently still, a celebrated
lecturer on natural science demonstrated, before an intelli-
gent audience, the impossibility of ocean steam navigation.
With what rapidity has experiment outrun theory and over-
turned hypothesis ! Thirty miles an hour is ordinary speed;
the steamship circumnavigates the globe. Locomotion is re-
duced to a very simple problem : so much water and so much
coal, and then let the tempest rave ; against wind and tide
the staunch boat presses gallantly onward. The expansion
in this mode of travel within ten years is prodigious. What,
then, shall another half century witness, when perchance other
and even more efl&cient agencies may be harnessed to this
work ?

The almost accidental discovery, that a stream of elec-
tricity passing over a soft iron converts it into a temporary
masnet, is the fundamental idea of a new instrument for the

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 199

transmission of intelligence, whose results are just beginning
to unfold themselves. That thought should travel around
the globe, record its progress, reveal its character, distancing
time itself in its flight, is a fancy of yesterday, a fact of to-
day. The distinguished conductor of the Cincinnati Observ-
atory— a gentleman whose fertile genius, power of application,
capacity for the most subtile analysis, admirable mechanical
ingenuity and exhaustless invention, combined with a pro-
found knowledge of his science, have introduced a new era in
the history of astronomy ; who has made of the lightning a
printer, and compelled him to stereotype the positions of the
stars with an accuracy and a rapidity that multiplies a hun-
dred fold the ability of the astronomer to advance in the solu-
tion of that amazing problem, the motions of the stellar
world — this gentleman has actually measured the progress of
the electric fluid. By positive and negative experiments, he
has determined the speed to be about a mile in 30000 of a
second ;■•' so that a word, a thought, committed to this Mer-
cury, would travel round the globe, were the wire circuit com-
plete, in a single second ! The idea of such an encircling of
the world is abroad. We may yet live to see the Emperor
of China, the Czar of all the Kussias, the Queen of England
and the President of the United States, engaged in a friendly
conversation on the same evening.

Commerce, keeping pace with these increased facilities, is
spreading itself everywhere. The knowledge of the world as
it is is penetrating all nations. Even the Celestial Empire —
hitherto the center of the world, while all beyond was a rim
of barbarism — even this empire, heretofore of all others most
impenetrable to foreign ideas, has recently witnessed the pub-
lication of an historical geography, written by one of her
most eminent scholars and civilians, graphically and truly
describing the earth itself, and the nations that dwell uj)on it.

* "We do not mean to engage in the controversy respecting the nature of this
motion, or the manner in which it is propagated. Whether it is a current, or an
atmospheric fluid, or what it may be, we leave to others to determine. The sim
pie result of these observations in respect to time, Ls all we design to state.

200 LITERAKY ADDRESSES.

Meanwhile, the two great maritime nations are putting forth
their joint energies in the same direction, and seeking to an-
nihilate the obstacles that have kept men asmider. The
treaty between Great Britain and the United States, by which
the neutrality of any pathways of commerce hen^after to be
constructed across the isthmus that divides the two Americas
is secured, is a sign of the approaching brotherhood of na-
tions. With such elements at work ; with such means of
exploration, of commerce, of the transmission of intelligence,
of the more perfect acquaintance, and more frequent inter-
mingling of nations, it is obvious that the era of a new series
of experiments or of some one grand experiment has arrived.
Never before have the chains of sympathy stretched from con-
tinent to continent as they do now ; never before has mere
physical power so felt its weakness in the presence of the mor-
al sentiment of far-off millions. What force has of late years
wrought most effectually at Constantinople ? The press of
London and Paris. How long will it be before the Emperor
of China will find the Times a necessary appendage to his
breakfast, and Pekin shall have its reading rooms, vying in
extent with those of New York and Boston ? It is out of the
question, in these circumstances, for the old processes of
thought and action to continue and repeat themselves. It is
impossible for any one nation to isolate itself from these silent
and omnipresent influences. The loorld is usurping the na-
tion; the invisible force of intelligence and moral sentiment is
slowly ])ut surely undermining the ramparts of sectional big-
otry and ignorance. The steamshiii that jjenetrates the Avaters
of the great eastern Archipelago, is the sure sign of an ap-
proaching revolution in manners, knowledge, morals, modes of
thought, and even mechanic arts, among the innumerable mul-
titudes of that unknown world. The Chinese are digging for
gold in California ; but they are Chinese no longer. There is in
our own country a similar process going forward. In the inter-
mixture and friendly collision of millions born in different
lands, the national is gradually lost. National churches can not
Ions: exist without a radical assimilation to the new order of

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION, 201

tilings around them ; while national modes of thought, cus-
voms, and language, soon give place to something very different
— a combination of Americanism with the sturdier qualities of
national character — the old framework penetrated by a new
spirit, and manifesting a new life. This process is to go for-
ward all over the world. Nothino- can long; retard it. The
result will be something new — something perhaps grand —
something far more remarkable in the way of experiment
toward the full civilization of man than history has yet re-
corded.

What effect this intermingling of nations, this casting
down of the separating walls, this mutual action and reac-
tion, is to have in settling the question respecting the only
true means of human elevation, we can not foresee. That no
such world-wide brotherhood, no such rapid intercourse, is
sufficient to satisfy the conditions of the noblest civihzation,
we are well assured. There are other considerations that
seem to indicate that this new aspect of the world is to be
associated with the full trial of the positive and grandest ex-
periment of civilization. It is to be supposed, indeed, that
the closing up of the experiment of the earthly forces will be
gradual. It is not according to the analogy of the divine
government in time past, that these vast processes should
suddenly cease. The winding up will probably be slow ;
cotemporaneously with the opening of the final illustration,
trains of powers reaching back through centuries will spread
themselves ; subordinate, and even some of the grandest
forces, to which humanity has clung with despairing tenacity
as the chief anchor of hope, amidst the heavings of this
troubled sea, will reveal their weakness. Side by side with
these vanishing powers, the Christian experiment will push
itself forth, growing like a tree which, long roofed over and
pent in by walls, at length enjoying the sun, the rain, and
the breeze, rapidly spreads its life far up into the sky. There
are two circumstances, among others, which specially indicate
the rapid approach of the time for the full illustration of
Christian civilization. First. The tendency to religious

202 LITERAKY ADDRESSES.

freedom is increasing on every side. Freedom is one of the
leading conditions of the great experiment. This mighty
scheme can not be tried, or the fullness of its power be mani-
fest, while men and States are ever rearing their perishable
buttresses around it, stretching out their arm and their sword
to shield it from peril, and enforce its authority. Truth asks
no such defense ; David can not fight in Saul's aiToor ; nei-
ther will Christianity ally to itself such elements of corrup-
tion with which to divide the glory of victory. Its triumphs
are in the soul, where no external power can reach — where
human authority and brute force are powerless. It goes
forth alone in its own spiritual might, to do battle with the
forces of depravity. It will stand alone upon the morass in
which corruption is sinking the race ; alone it will desj)oil
their foe, lift them on their feet, and make the earth solid
beneath them. Too long its victories have been retarded and
its glories eclipsed by the secularizing policy of States, and
the unbelief of its own supporters in its intrinsic power.
Misunderstanding the nature of man, the plans of God, and
the vitality of the gospel, they have coupled the eagle and
the owl, as if the lazy bhd of night could assist the monarch
in his soaring to the sun. On this most important point the
world is getting wisdom. Ever since the opening of the fifth
act of time, when the curtain was lifted wp from this vast
country, as the broad stage for the noblest scenes of time,
causes have been in operation which have at length wi'ought
out the freedom of tnith here, and are slowly sending their
influence over the entire world.

In yonder isle of the deep — our fatherland, — where power
and wealth, genius and learning have reared their throne,
behold ! the earth trembles beneath their lofty cathedrals,
while their time-honored union of Church and State bleeds
freely from the vigorous thrusts of a true-hearted chivalry.
From the hills and glens of Scotland, the noble army of
confessors send forth around the earth the voice of liberty
achieved, of truth casting off her unnatural ally and rushing
on to combat in the strength of God alone. In that land

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 203

which infidelity, wedded to papacy, has filled with monsters,
— the land of the Huguenot,— in those forests and fields
where of yore the trumpets of Luther and Zwingle spake the
first sounds of deliverance to the spiritual bondmen, — even
there also, where the tiara still gleams luridly in the light of
yon blazing mountain, are hearts by millions panting for this
rich boon — freedom of thought, of utterance, of worship ;
hands innumerable ready to grasp the sword to achieve it ;
and purposes deep, settled, immovable, yet to efiect it. Even
the Crescent gi'ows pale before the gray dawn of this coming
day, which is to scatter the darkness of Moslem bigotry, and
herald the triumphs of a nobler civilization than even Athens,
or Bagdad, or Constantinople ever saw. This onward prog-
ress toward religious liberty is no dream ; no midnight vision ;
no paroxysm of a crippled giant, to pass away in a deeper
bondage and a more hopeless night. Backwards and forwards,
now eddying this way, now rushing that ; seething and foam-
ing against opposing rocks ; pausing at times as if about to
settle away in the earth and be lost for ever, still the stream
rises and swells, and will rise and swell, till at length Christian
truth shall spread over every land, in the glorious freedom,
the uncontaminated purity and living force of the wisdom
of God. This condition of the great experiment is gradu-
ally forming itself in one and another land ; especially in
those lands whose power over the world is most quickening,
and whose sons seem destined to revolutionize the forms of
social life, the governments, the commerce, and the religion
of half the globe. Such is the first clear sign of the trial of
the chief experiment.

The second condition of its operation and sign of its
coming is similar in its character. It is the preparation of a
great multitude of hearts for actively engaging in this experi-
ment. The spirit and the truth work in human hearts,
through human minds and tongues. These noble instru-
ments will be found polished and prepared in great numbers,
increasing as the great work of Christian civilization is fully
open to their efibrts. The silent preparation of large masses

204 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

of men for some such labor, is obvious to any careful observer
of the church of Christ. At this hour, and increasing all
over the earth, are armies of souls who despair of human ele-
vation by human inventions ; who feel not only that their
higher life for the better world must be inspired from above,
but that the noblest fonn of this earthly life must be cast
into the same mold, and bear the same impress. Confidence
in human governments, in forms, in rites, in merely external
influences, as complete means of civilization, is dying — in a
multitude of souls is already dead. They are looking away
to a higher power ; they are going forth in the simple panoply
of truth, to revolutionize nations, upheave their hoary super-
stitions, abolish their hereditary and interlocked abuses, set
up a new form of civilization, and make Christianity the lever
with which a world is to be moved from its place of evil, and
elevated to a position of light and love, of purity and peace.
It is not usual for Infinite Wisdom thus to prepare his in-
struments when their work is yet far distant. These convic-
tions, these efforts, this faith in a better scheme of civihza-
tion, are his own product. They are the marshahng of an
army for near conflict ; the mighty preparation for the noblest
victory. Hitherto the good have been overborne ; defeat has
depressed the spirits of those who sought for man's elevation.
But now a new era will open — an era of faith and victory.
The king will himself ascend the throne, direct the forces,
infuse energy into his subjects, baffle his enemies, and at last
spread over the earth the light, and joy, and peace of man's
golden age.

Such are the indications of the near approach of the posi-
tive experiment. The old must die. The mighty whom the
earth has worshiped, must fall. One after, another, the schemes
and appliances for human civilization must spend themselves.
Yet not in vain have they lived and wrought. Those forests
that stretch across our western world must die. Those grand
old trees, amid whose majestic tops the winds have moaned
the requiem of centuries ; that exuberant life which age after
age has renewed itself, and sjDread the shade of its foliage over

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 205

the swarthy Indian and his wild prey, even they must fall.
But thon.gh they fall, yet not without a purpose of good have
they so long existed. That life above has created the mold
of a nobler life than its own : that deposit of ages past, hurled
downward by autumn winds and rotted by winter rains, is
the soil, deep, rich, exhaustless, which, uncovered to the sun,
is yet to nourish countless myriads. The genius of a nobler
civilization cries to us : " Girdle those wide-spreading giants ;
heed not the tossing of their brawny arms against the wintry
sky ; heed not the gi-andeur and the loveliness, the pride and
majesty, the wealth of life and grace and motion, with which
they rise between you and the burning sun of summer !
Below their shade, brutes, reptiles, beasts of prey nestle on
the very soil that would minister wealth to starving myriads.
Down then with the majesty of rank ! let in the sun ! let in
the plow ! bring forth the cradle and hoe !" Behold ! a new
scene opens. The wild winds sing their requiem no more ;
the war-whoop startles us no more ; the catamount and the
deer have hied them to other lands. But around us smiles a
noble civilization. The tasteful farm-house, the clustering
village, fields waving with grain, meet the eye ; the lowing
of cattle, the hum of commerce, the snort of the steam-horse,
the merry voices of children, fall upon the ear. The school-
house, the academy, the college, rise before us in all the
beauty of art ; while conspicuous among them, the crown of
earth's richest possession, the truest source of abiding pros-
perity, the church of the Kedeemer, sits queenly.

Thus will it be when this protracted drama shall approach
its close. Those wondrous forms and institutions of the past,
through which man has in vain sought to liken himself to
God, must crumble. Egypt, with her solemn temples and
rock-built pyramids ; Greece, with her beauteous diadem of
illustrious minds, her bright and joyous Acropolis ; Jerusa-
lem, with her awful tabernacle, her priestly train, her splen-
did ritual ; Rome, with all the magnificence of her forum, her
vast Coliseum, her monumental arches, her noble Basilicas,
and her stern, unflinching justice ; Rome spiritual, with all

206 LITEKARY ADDRESSES.

that art wliicli she has made religion, her Vatican palaces
and lihraries and paintings, the robes of her harlotry, with
that world-renowned trophy of Ms skill, Great Angelo ! —
these, and a hundred others less grand and mighty, must all
pass away. Upon your decaying majesty, your marble mau-
soleums, your crumbling castles, your works of mightiest
genius, we gaze with wonder, spell-bound with that fascina-
tion which so long made you the mistresses of the world. Yet
when we look beneath, look at the popu^lace, at the publicans
and sinners, at the foul reptiles that found a covert under
your shade, the unclean birds that reveled in your dim, reli-
gious light, and amid your grand leafy aisles, we waken from
that dream of joy, and welcome your conquerors, and light
the torch that shall send the flame crackling and roaring
through all your pride. Another world is opened as ye fall ;
another civilization begins its course as ye decay, as far above
yours as yours was above that of the savage in his wild home.
As one after another these earthly schemes reveal their
powerlessness, the system of redemption by Christ will attract
to itself the hearts of the world. Entering the mind and
forming it first for the life to come, it will in its progress
fashion the noblest sons of earth, develop their finest attri-
butes in harmony, link religion to genius, and cause genius
to bring forth finer products than history has ever recorded.
From that state of elevated humanity, idleness, enervating
luxury, pinching poverty, blood-thirsty war, bloated drunk-
enness, licentiousness with its lustful eye and insatiate appe-
tite, court-room wrangles, ignorance with its idiot merriment
and its unskillful hands, passion in its rudderless vessel, with
its unsheathed dagger — all these and whatsoever else doth
wound and corrupt society, shall be banished. Then shall
that divine wisdom, instinct with divine power working in
the heart, and out in the life, give health, vigor and beauty
to man ; harmonize conflicting interests ; purify all social in-
tercourse ; guide all energies to noble ends ; and elevate the
intellect into a clear atmosphere, where the glorious forms of
science shall appear in harmony and light. Then knowledge

SECULAK AND CHKISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 207

shall daily grow in accuracy and extent, unfolding the mys-
terious forms of nature, and their application to now unknown
ends of practical utility. Then mechanism, associated with
the finest powers of genius and invention, shall push aside
the common mode of labor, alleviate the condition of toil, and
lift poverty to competence. The sweat of man's brow will
not stream so copiously ; the earth will bring forth her weeds
less luxuriantly ; and the face of nature will be as the garden
of the Lord. Then Art shall have its resurrection, its true
inspiration. No longer substituted for religion, and worshiped
as God, it shall come forth to minister to spiritual religion,
and assist in guiding man back to the Infinite, It shall rear
our temples and dwellings in forms that will awe and tran-
quillize and gladden the heart, speaking to it as doth nature
in the roar of the ocean or the wailing of the forest. Then
grace and motion, then all sounds of harmony and melody,
all forms of beauty, shall harmonize with the works of wis-
dom and power around us ; and the outer life of man possess
a loveliness, a bright and joyous character, indicative of the
purity, the peace, the science and the faith of his spirit. Such,
in faint outline, will be that better state to which the race is
advancing, and to which it will attain when the experiment
of Christianity shall be fully tried.

At length, even this positive experiment shall have
wrought its results. Then will come the final gathering up,
and comparison of both the negative and positive trials.
What a scene will that be, when the life, the deeds, the
whole panorama of antediluvian existence shall be displayed.
A manuscript history, begun by Adam, continued by Methu-
selah, and completed by Noah^ would set the world on fire
with eager desire to behold and read. But this scene, tran-
scending all such imperfect testimonies, will place that an-
cient life in all its minutest operations before our eyes and
those of the universe. Thus, too, will Assyiia, Babylon, and
Egypt, all be raised to life, and seem to move before us.
Each experiment, however small or great, will take its just
position in that vast exliibition, like the separate features of

208 LITEEARY ADDRESSES.

a luminous painting ; while in contrast with them all, shines
forth this last and grandest scene of Christian civilization ; a
race fallen, in ruins, whom no plenteousness of food, no free-
dom of government, no influence of art, no teachings of sci-
ence, no sanctions of law could refine, elevated to the liighest
point of earthly aggrandizement, by the inworking force of
that truth, the Lamb of God slain for the sins of men,
AND THE Spirit of God bestowed for the purification
OF polluted sinners.

Young Gentlemen of the Calliopean Society :

The theme which to-day I commend to your consideration
IS profound as the providence and vast as the plans of the
Infinite. Its stage is the world ; its season, the whole prog-
ress of time ; its subject, man in his flow of life from the
creation to the conflagration. You are about to go forth in-
to the world as men of power to mold the elements of society
into form. To which of these experiments will you stand
committed .^ Will you be of those whom the past can not
instruct ; who are ever repeating the same trials to issue in
the same defeats ; who know not how to bless the world save
by patching anew exploded systems, imagining them all-]Dow-
erful to secure the noblest civilization of the race ? Or wdll
it not be your lofty aim, reviewing to some purpose the fail-
ures which are strewn along the course of human empire, dis-
trusting the guides that hitherto have always led astray, the
forces that have failed in the hour of need, to identify your-
selves as hearty co-workers in this positive experiment of
Christian civilization ! Come, let us go forth into these for-
ests ; let the trees foil and the jilow enter. A new age is
opening — the last. For this the walls of this institution were
reared ; for this its friends have struggled. They have labored
at these foundations, not that science might hold up heredi-
tary evils or assume lordship over nobler influences ; but that
as a gentle handmaid, whose life is richest in association with
religion, she might go forth in you to spread abroad the truth
of Christianity. I rejoice to-day, in the heart of this young

SECULAR AND CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. 209

but great State, to witness such scenes as these, to behold such
institutions rise, and sucli men of solid worth laboring at the
foundations of a rising empire. From this jDoint, I anticipate
your history. I place myself in imagination at the opening
of another century ; I behold a State of vast capacity, studded
with cities, towns, villages, farm-houses. I see millions re-
joicing in abundance, of pure morals, ennobled by science,
adorned by art. I see this institution grown into a university,
with its schools of theology, of law, of medicine, and of use-
ful arts, frequented by hundreds of ingenuous youth, and send-
ing a quickening influence beyond the limits of the State,
abroad over our country and the world. I behold a people
rich in all the elements of Christian civilization, of vast en-
terprise, of sterling piety, sending forth their sons to assist in
the full redemption of the world. The field is large, the pros-
pect grand, the toil great. Enter it manfully, in the strength
of another and higher power, and you shall be enrolled as those
who set in motion the trains of influence that are to issue in
these noble results, and assist in giving form to the future
grandeur of your noble State.

14

YII.

OBSTACLES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS TO MISSIONARY
EFFORT IN THE ANCIENT AND MODERN CHURCH *

At the first promulgation of a system of opinions that is
designed vitally to affect the character and happiness of vast
multitudes, there is usually room for much uncertainty,
doubt, and unbelief. Its power to effect the objects for
which it is promulged, is yet to be tested. However fair
in theory, it may yet be found, like thousands of other sys-
tems of faith, utterly defective in its practical working. But
where time has evinced its capacity to accomphsh results of
the noblest character ; when success has given to that which
was once a theory, all the certainty of a law of nature ; then
the season for doubt is past ; then, when the capacity to
overcome obstacles has been fairly developed, faith, unap-
palled by the presence of stupendous difficulties, rises into the
calm confidence of perfect assurance. To this stage in her
progress has Christianity attained. The conversion of the
world, the grand object which it proposes, is not a problem
to be solved by future success. Religion has already evinced
its capacity to effect so vast a work ; it is not a novelty,
thrown as a meteor upon the world. We are not launching,
Columbus-like, on an unknown sea, in search of an unknown
land. Our faith is one of centuries. It has passed through
trials of the severest character, and come out of them un-
scathed. It has effected great things. Its triumphs stand
out on the records of the world, like a succession of splendid
miracles. The early history of Christianity, anterior to the

* A lecture delivered before the Boston Young Men's Society for Diffusing
Missionary Knowledge.

OBSTACLES ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 211

full development of the papacy, rouses the soul like a
clarion.

In judging, however, of the Church, as it existed at that
day, we are frequently subject to an illusion of the most dis-
couraging character. Distance contracts ages to a point.
The bold and splendid results are seen, while the means by
which they were attained, are either wholly overlooked or
regarded as supernatural, and beyond the reach of the present
age. We see the 'disciples battling with Judaism, and hear
the cries of dying martyrs ; we see in motion the machinery
of gifts miraculous and wonderful ; presently the shoutings
of victory swell upon the ear, and the empire is the home of
our faith. But we forget the ages of toil that elapsed ere
that grand event was reached ; we overlook the ten thousand
humble instrumentalities — such as the meanest Christian
may wield at this day — through which the victory was
mainly achieved. The splendor of apostolic gifts, which, in
fiict, continued only for a brief period, seems to rest upon the
Church during the time of her travail ; while the faith, the
patience, the simple preaching of the gospel, the toil that
knew no weariness, and the love that never faltered, through
which the work was actually consummated, are either not
regarded at all, or considered to be light-armed auxiliaries to
the solid phalanx of apostolic powers. As the natural result
of such impressions, there exists an opinion that the first
three centuries of Christianity constituted its golden age ;
that the Church was then in possession of resources vastly
more effective than those now in her hands ; and that the
obstacles which then opposed her progress were neither so
great in themselves nor so numerous as those which exist at
the present day. That such an opinion is not, in every re-
spect, warranted by the facts, we think can easily be shown.
This will be manifest from an attentive comparison of the
obstacles to the success of the gospel in these different periods,
and the means 2:>ossessed by the Church for overcoming them.

In prosecuting this comparison, it will only be necessary
to allude to that deep-seated depravity which constitutes in

212 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

itself the greatest obstacle to the advance of the gospel. This
force of evil has lived aud worked iu eveiy period of man's his-
tory. Time, that changes and modifies all else, has wrought
no change here. It pervades all human society ; it tenants
the rude hut of the savage ; it dwells amid the groves of sci-
ence and the palaces of art ; nor is it wholly absent from the
temples and the altars of a Christian people. It gives to
en'or its force, to superstition its perpetuity, to all the influ-
ences hostile to Christianity, their living vigor. It is peculiar
to no age, to no people, to no clime. In it religion expects
ever to find a foe unconquerable as death, and immortal as
time.

It is equally unnecessary for me to dwell on that spiritual
organization — mysterious to the Christian, the theme of ridi-
cule to the world — which the Scriptures announce to us as
the most powerful in giving scope , to human depravity, and
in wielding the forces of evil against the cross. In common
with the ancient Christian, we fight with princiiDalities and
powers in high places, and until the mighty angel shall de-
scend, to bind the prince and scatter his legions, the Church
must expect to meet now, as in apostolic times, forces equip-
ped, organized, and led on, by a chief who once shone the
morning star of heaven's intelligences.

The power of the gospel to surmount these prime ob-
stacles has always been the same. The agency of the Spirit
and the gospel are ever with her. And I dismiss this point
with the remark, that, as the miracle-working power, in all
probability, did not pass far if at all beyond the age of the
apostles, the early Church, for the last two hundred years
of its fierce and bloody struggle, was thrown uj^on precisely
the same resources with those now possessed by the modern
Church — the common influences of the Spirit enforcing the
gospel.

Let us now compare the relative situation of the Church
to the governments of the world during the first three cen-
turies of her existence, and at the present time. In looking
back upon the ancient Church, we are at once struck by the

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 213

fact that she had to do mainly with one immense govern-
ment. While it is possible that her missionaries may have
passed the Euphrates or even the Indus, it is certain that the
Roman empire was their great field of conflict. That empire
was now in the zenith of her glory. Its boundaries swept
around all the mighty kingdoms that live in the ancient rec-
ords of our race. Her eagle, in its immense gyrations, spread
its wing over the civilized world. The empires of antiquity,
the world of knowledge and of civilization, all lay panting
beneath the foot of Rome.

At this period of her history, the power of the empire had
in reality passed away from the Senate. It was all concen-
tred in a single arm. A single mind directed the movements
of this huge government ; a single hand wielded the energies
of the millions that paid tribute to Rome. So perfect was
this power, the slightest whisper of that mind could be heard
in the remotest corner of the empire ; the wave of that hand
was instantly seen and felt in the forests of Britain, on the
sands of Libya, and along the banks of the Eujjhrates. The
mighty despot reached forth ten thousand arms to execute
his imperial will. The engines of his power were set wp in
every province, in every city, in every sequestered vale of
human habitation. While, to curb the lawlessness of such
colossal greatness, the moral power of the opinion of the
world, which now operates so effectually upon the proudest
thrones, had then no force. From the decree of this tremen-
dous despotism there was no appeal, save to the high chan-
cery of heaven.

It was in the bosom of such an empire that Christianity
arose. For the first few years, it was suffered to work its
way silently and freely. Rome as yet understood not its
character. To her it was but one of a thousand religions.
Tiberius does not hesitate to provide a niche in the Pantheon
for Jesus Christ. The opposition it encountered, sprang from
the Jew, the Pagan priest and philosopher, rather than from
the imperial government. It was not long, however, before
the clamors of the idolatrous multitude entered the palace of

214 LITERAEY ADDEESSES.

the Caesars. Whatever may have been the proximate causes,
which at jmrticnlar seasons kindled the fires of persecution,
the grand cause of their existence is obvious. It consisted in
the total opposition existing between the principles of Chris-
tianity, and the worship, the customs, the character of the
influential portion of the empire. Christianity undeified their
gods, dashed down their idols, overturned their altars, anathe-
matized their priests, and cast contempt on whatever was most
sacred, most ancient, most admired. Then began to lower
those storms, which, with some short intervals of repose, for
two hundred and fifty years, flashed and thundered along the
Christian's path. From these, escape was impossible. Should
the unhappy victim retire into some remote corner of the em-
pire ? But the edict of destruction had anticipated his flight,
and where he hoped for safety, he met the iron grasp of a Ro-
man prefect. Wherever the Christian turned, the same dark
form was frowning upon him ; the cries of martyrs, mingled
with the shouts of the amphitheater, ever rang in his ear. There
was, then, no sacred home of freedom to which the oppressed
might flee. The world was one vast empire, and the tremen-
dous enginery of its power was everywhere in motion, for
nearly three centuries, to uproot the cross. Such was the
nature of that governmental opposition, against which the
feeble band of early Christians fought, and over which they
triumphed.

Comj)are with this the situation of our modern Church.
The civilized world is now divided into a number of indepen-
dent sovereignties. Of these, several are on the side of Prot-
estant Clii'istianity. And when I say they are on the side
of true Christianity, it is meant either that their governments
explicitly recognize it as the religion of the state, as in En-
gland, or that the great mass of those who create the govern-
ment, and of those who constitute it, are avowedly behevers
in the Christian revelation. Of these nations. Great Britain
and the United States are the most powerful, and most de-
cidedly influential in promoting the evangelization of the
world. They embosom the wealth and the piety which are

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 215

to carry the gospel to every land, and resuscitate the half-
extinguished iires of true religion on the altars of nominal
Christendom. In general influence upon the world at large,
no other nation can come into comparison with them. The
commerce of the world, now one of the most eiFective chains
of brotherhood, and destined to exert a mighty influence in
the overthrow of superstition, barbarism and ignorance, is in
their hands. Their fleets are on every sea ; their warehouses
in eveiy port ; their representatives are found wherever there
is wealth to be gathered, or a government to be influenced by
their presence.

Nor is this all. Millions of the heathen world are directly
subject to one of these governments. Great Britain, for the
last two hundred years, has been advancing in the career of
conquest, until her subjects have multiplied from a dozen to
more than a hundred and fifty millions ; her possessions have
expanded from that little central isle until they gird the
globe ; and, from holding as a feudal lord the throne of En-
gland, she has placed her foot upon the neck of empires vast,
populous and ancient. But yesterday, you heard the roar of
her cannon before Beyrout ; and every breeze that sweeps
westward, bears to us the thundering of her artillery upon
the commercial metropolis of China.

The effect of this general influence, we doubt not, is gi*eatly
to the advantage of Christianity. That this haj)py result
has been diminished by the presence of great evils, is not to
be denied. Commerce, mainly employing as its instruments
those who have no sympathy with the religion of the cross ;
conquests originating in an all-grasping avarice or ambition ;
won by the sacrifice of holocausts of human victims on the
altar of war ; and maintained by a system of oppression,
which deliberately weighs the happiness of millions of im-
mortal minds in the balance with gold, all tend, in some re-
spects, to weaken the influence of Christianity on the con-
science of the Pagan. Yet, in spite of these counteracting
causes, there has gone forth, and is going forth, from this
very commerce, and these vast conquests, an influence which

216 LITEKAET ADDKESSES.

is destined, we believe, to revolutionize the world. Already
have they brought whole nations, while they feol the force of
our arms, to respect our religion. They have opened more
extensive fields of labor before the missionaries, and they have
also given them security, so that the name of either an En-
glishman or an American has been a charm more potent than
was anciently that of a Roman citizen.

Casting our eyes beyond the governments directly under
the control of Protestant influence, we see a number of States,
nominally Christian, yet so sunk in gross superstition as to
possess little of Christianity besides the name.

In respect to most of them, one feet is worthy of our no-
tice. The principles of Christian toleration are working their
way into their courts, and modifying the whole machinery of
their governments. Nations, which a century ago expelled
Protestantism from their shores, now receive it with open
arms, or sufier it to cany forward its peaceful work un-
checked. The spectacle of religious persecution in any coun-
try, no matter what may be the sufferer's faith, now interests
and arouses the civilized world. That which, a few years
ago, was made a part of the ordinary business of some gov-
ernments, would now outrage the moral feelings of civilized
society. Austria can not even exile her inquiring peasantry,
far less torture them at the rack, or burn them at the stake ;
nay, even despotic Turkey may not bastinado a poor Jew, on
account of his faith, without calling forth indignant remon-
strance, long and loud, from every part of Christendom. To
this great end also have those political revolutions been work-
ing, which of late have shaken so many thrones, and burst so
many chains. While they have given to subjects a higher
political importance, they have infused into proud rulers a
salutary caution how they tread upon those most sacred jewels
of liberty — the rights of conscience.

In this steady advance of the princij)les of toleration
among civilized States, Christianity has reason for present
joy and future hope ; for the prevalence of such opinions is
both the sign of the silent influence she has already gained,

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 217

and the foundation on which she can proceed to rebuild her
decaying temples, and reopen her smoldering fires, among
the nations only nominally her friends. What, I ask, has
created this power of public opinion, before which the scep-
ters of kings are lowered ? What has brought it about that
governments, whose grand argument was the sword in every
contest of right, are now compelled to respect the opinion of
the great family of Christian States ? Neither the increased
facilities of national intercourse, nor the progress of civiliza-
tion, nor the terrific march of revolution, alone or combined,
could have effected it, had not a purer Christianity breathed
around the loftiest thrones the mild spirit of religion, inspir-
ing a state of public feeling in which might can no longer pass
as the synonym of right, brute force as the strongest argu-
ment of justice.

Under these better influences, the most bigoted govern-
ments are relaxing the strictness of their ecclesiastical regi-
men. Spain, proud and lordly in her rags, whose bigotry
reared and perfected the honid Inquisition, whose fields were
fertilized by the ashes, and her broad rivers dyed with the
blood of innumerable martyrs, whose records are a history of
intolerance, written in characters of blood and fire, and over
whom, as the result of that stern bigotry, there have brooded
centuries of dense darkness — even she has at last burst her
chains. The Bible is read on her sunny hills ; a highway,
broad and free, is rising for the chariot of the Prince of peace.

If now we bring into view the Pagan and Mohammedan
world, the same great fact, with an occasional excej^tion, is
proved to be true. Governmental oj^position is gradually
relaxing its strictness under the general influence of the civil-
ized. Egypt and the wide dependencies of Turkey are open-
ing their ports to the Christian missionary. Nor should we
be surprised were the decree of death, fulminated by the Ko-
ran against the apostate from Islamism, ere long to become a
dead statute into which no earthly power dare breathe life.
The scepter of Protestant England stretches over a hundred
millions of the worshipers of Brahma. From the Ganges to

218 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

the Indus, from Travancore to Cashmere, that vast, populous,
ancient land, crowded with villages, teeming with a luxuriant
vegetation, is 023en to correct religious influences. Beyond it
is China ; an empire which no Christian can contemplate in
the greatness of its extent, its high antiquity, the immense
masses of immortal heings that swarm in its cities and darken
its waters, and in that stubhorn exclusion, mingled with af-
fected contempt of all those foreign influences which might
work out the elevation and salvation of the people, without
being moved to wonder, to pity, and almost to despair.

Even here, however, are the dawnings of better days.
Around that vast empire there are clustering mighty influ-
ences from all quarters of the globe, which, like the atmos-
phere, she can not exclude, and before which her iron insti-
tutions must ere long be greatly modified, or crumble to
utter ruin. It is impossible for the utmost power of the
mightiest human will to give eternity to such institutions,
when the whole world is rushing by them in a swift and
broad tide of improvement. Yield they must to the accumu-
lating pressure. Her only hope for the perpetuity of her
present institutions, is a wall of entire non-intercourse with
the whole world, higher, broader, more impassable than that
monument of industrious folly reared against the Tartar
horde ; while millions of her people, beyond her control, are
subject to the influence of Christianity ; while she herself is
encompassed with the commerce of civilized States ; and
while she is obliged occasionally to quail before the barbarian
power, so long will she be exposed to a revolution which will
shake her government to the ground. Nor need we wait long
for decided changes in her policy. Let the influences which
but recently have begun to surround her, operate with con-
stantly increasing force for less than half a century, and we
shall not want the pen of heaven-rapt Isaiah to predict the
fall of this greater Babylon.

In whatever light, therefore, we compare the situation of
Christianity, in respect to the governments of the world at
the present time, with that of the first ages of the Church,

I

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 219

we find every thing to encourage us. Here she has gained
vastly in the struggle of eighteen hundred years. We have
come out of the caves and forests where the ancients were
hunted. The mightiest governments are ours. Even the
progress of free institutions, the political convulsions and the
wide-spread revolutions, which are giving freedom to rising
humanity, are either bearing onward the car of life, or rear-
ing up broad highways, on which it may roll over the world.
Our next point of comparison, between the ancient and
modern Church, respects the systems of religion they have
respectively to encounter. Two large and ancient religions,
the one of the Jew, the other of the Pagan, in the days of
early Christianity, as now, resisted the advance of the gospel,
with an uncompromising and vigorous hostility. The Jew
was the first great opponent of the cross. The early propa-
gators of our faith struck at this system with far greater suc-
cess than has the Church since that period. The very origin
of Christianity then gave it a power the course of time has
partially destroyed. It sprang out of the bosom of Israel ; it
grew up beside their altar and their temple ; its most thrill-
ing scenes were enacted on that sacred soil, bedewed with the
tears and blood of the faithful, vocal with the inspirations of
holy seers, hallowed by the flaming shekinah, the splendid
worship, the visible footprints of the dread Jehovah im-
pressed on every hill and vale. It was not a foreign religion.
It was the ofi'spring of their own worship, the fulfillment of
their prophecies, the grand and crowning scene toward which
for ages their hopes, their prayers, their joys, their bloody
worship, had all been pointing. The prime actor in it was
of the kingly house of David. Its great apostles were sons
of Abraham. To the Jew, in whose veins flowed the blood
of their illustrious sire, with whom they worshiped at the
same altar, breathing with them from childhood's hour the
inspiration of their glorious history, they could preach of the
Messiah with a force hardly to be reached by the Church
at this day. Christianity has passed away from the country
and the nation of its earliest love. Its dwelling-place is

220 LITERAEY ADDEESSES,

with the Gentile, who for centuries has ground the outcast
and saddened Israelite beneath the iron heel of a despotic
power. In the view of that downtrodden nation, all the
prejudices of an abhon-ed, a foreign superstition, cluster
around the Christian religion.

There was much, also, in the time when Christianity first
arose, that then gave it power over this race. It appeared at
a time when the lines of a long series of most splendid proph-
ecies, which for ages had been converging, seemed to have
reached the point of fulfillment. The power of Rome hung
over the sacred land, and they knew not how soon its black,
dense clouds would pour down their sheets of flame. The
bosom of the nation, as of one man, throbbed Avith intense
expectation of the sj^eedy manifestation of the great Deliv-
erer. And when Christianity arose, it found a mighty advo-
cate in those powerful sympathies and exciting hopes of the
people. It carried with it all the authority of prophecy, such
as then lived in the hearts, glowed on the lips, pervaded the
worship, and molded the character of the entire race. Christ
stood before them as the fulfillment of this prophecy ; and
though his lowly condition corresponded not with their lofty
expectations, yet every argument he urged in demonstration
of His Messiahship, came home to their hearts enforced by
all the associations of their youth and manhood. Their an-
cient prophets seemed to descend from their high abode to
bear their testimony to, and shed their homage around, this
illustrious Being. But with that age, these feelings have
passed away. From earliest infancy the Jew has been taught
to execrate the Christian's faith, and the anathemas under
whose intolerable burden he has groaned have given force to
the lesson. For centuries the ingenuity of wit, the refine-
ments of sophistry, the parade of learning, and the force of
authority have been combined to bring into contempt the
Christian interpretation of Messianic prophecies. And, while
under the tuition of patriarchs and rabbis, of the Talmud
and Gemara, he has become versed in the tactics of evasion
and subterfuge, at the same time the entire force of his

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 221

education steels his bosom against the religion of the Naz-
arene.

In some respects, however, the modern Church occupies a
position of influence over this people above that of the ancient.
This very dispersion, this outpouring of the long-gathering
flood that swept them from Judea and strewed them in wrecks
on every shore, was minutely described in the sacred records
three thousand years ago. On the pages of the New Testa-
ment the same dark events are foretold with equal distinct-
ness. The Christian Church, in her efi'orts for the conversion
of Israel, proceeds upon the firm foundation of prophecy ful-
filled, such as affords the most indubitable evidence of the
divine origin of our faith. Other circumstances combine to
heighten the force of this argument. The lengthened dark-
ness of that night, which, in fulfillment of these prophetic
denunciations, has brooded over this nation for nearly two
thousand years, has not been without its influence for good.
As meteor after meteor has flashed across the sky and disap-
peared, leaving only increasing darkness ; as prophet after
prophet has reared the standard of Messiah, only to have it
lowered in blood and shame, so the hopes of this people have
been often raised, only to be dashed to the earth. No star of
Bethlehem cheers the hearts of these anxious watchers. Hope
is retiring before the increasing darkness of this starless night.
Prophecy, such as Christianity authorizes, so sadly, so sternly
fulfilled, is sadly working in multitudes the fearfully joyful
conviction that Jesus of Nazareth is their long-expected Mes-
siah. Thus time itself is elaborating an argument, of all
others the most powerful, to dispel those bright illusions by
which the Jew is blinded to the glory of the cross.

The other great opponent of Christianity was the Pagan.
The conflict with Paganism, as it then existed under the
forms of Atheism, Pantheism, and Polytheism, convulsed
the whole Roman empire. It was then in its manhood. Poe-
try praised it ; philosophy smiled upon it ; the populace adored
it ; and the entire force of the State was enlisted in its de-
fense. No circumstance was wanting that could contribute

222 LITEEARY ADDRESSES.

to enhance tlie formidable opposition it made to the cross. It
was then in the full maturity of its strength ; the passions
of the great, the wisdom of the learned, the prejudices of the
vulgar, with the immense power of that vast State, consti-
tuted the wall of its defense. Yet so mightily did the truth
of Christ work, that in less than three centuries it set at de-
fiance the omnipotence of Rome, won the emperor, and swept
away the worship of the ancient gods. The huge and mas-
sive superstition crumbled down before the influence of Chris-
tian truth.

At this day more than half the human family are the de-
votees of the rudest forms of Paganism ; while here, at home,
beside the very altars of a Christian people, there is springing
up a refined Paganism, beautiful as poetry, profound as mys-
ticism, and coiTupt as the most depraved movings of the hu-
man heart. This hybrid issue of a spurious philosophy and
a degenerate Christianity, after having poisoned the life-blood
of one Christian nation, has crossed the ocean to seek the re-
ligious empire of this new world. But in this conflict, though
it be with new and varied forms of this old error, the Church
occupies a position far above that from which she waged war
with the Paganism of Rome. Her weapons of offense and
defense have been accumulating for eighteen centuries. They
are wielded by the strength inspired in a thousand victories,
with the science gained in the war of ages.

Such were the two great systems of religion by which
Christianity was then opposed. But, at the present day, she
has to meet not only these, but other religions, the growth of
subsequent ages, framed for dominion, large in resources, and
bitter in hostility to the cross.

In the opening of the seventh centuiy, there sprang up,
amidst the deserts of Arabia, a system of religion which,
from that day to this, has presented one of the most formid-
able obstacles to the advance of Christianity. Its theology
is one bold, grand truth, enforcing an equally bold lie. " There
is hut one God." This was the thunderbolt Mohammed hurled
among the idols of Mecca. "Mohammed is his prophet."

I

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 223

This was the imposition which gave to this truth the demon-
stration of the sword. Here has ever been the great secret of
Mohammed's success. He was a prophet, through whom
Heaven blazed forth its revelations to an idolatrous world.
He was a chieftain, commissioned to enforce the will of Heaven
by the terror of arms. In establishing his system, he brought
to his aid two of the most powerful and most permanent
passions of our nature. He roused the ardor of war ; he
awoke the enthusiasm of religion ; and, as if to ensure the
perpetuity of their union, he consecrated the first by the au-
thority of the second, and gathered around the unholy alliance
all the attractions of sensuality and ambition. Inspired by
such a religion, it is not a matter of wonder that the fiery
Saracen, sweeping in a whirlwind over western Asia, over Af-
rica and Spain, should have dashed down the Pagan's idols,
trodden in scorn upon the corrupt institutions of a degenerate
Christianity, and ended by the establishment of one of the
most powerful dynasties that ever swayed the scepter of do-
minion.

The situation of this system of religion, which but a few
centuries ago shook the mightiest thrones in Europe to their
base, is full of encouragement to the Christian. Its youth
has gone ; the signs of decrepit age mark all its movements.
The empire shrunk to a tenth of its former extent — rebel
provinces resisting successfully the power of the Sultan, —
State after State in quick succession assuming an attitude of
indeiDcndence, while the proud son of Othman is forced to
crouch before Christian sovereigns, a royal beggar for the po-
litical existence of his people.

Other nations around, and mingled with this race, are
rapidly advancing in science and power ; the Greek, the Jew,
the Armenian, are daily rising in intelligence. Mohamme-
danism alone is sinking into an atrophy. Her efforts to rise
are the struggles of a man in a morass, which serve only to
show her own impotence and the impossibility of her rescue
by foreign hands. Unlike Christianity, which, in the six-
teenth century, — when the world was breaking loose from her

224 LITEKAKY ADDRESSES.

intellectual bondage — with the giant vigor of youth, shook
off the incumbent mass of sujjerstition, and took the lead of
science in the disenthrallment of the human mind — Islam ism
embosoms no elements of revivification. Its rehgion and its
customs are all stei'eotyped after the pattern of the days of
darkness. And as the courage, the enthusiasm, the hardi-
hood of its mountain and desert-nourished youth, vanish
under the influence of luxury and repose, there remains no
vital force to rebuild her moldering walls, to prop her falling
buttresses, to hold her up in th^ struggle for advancement
with the great powers of Christendom.

Mohammedanism is thus retiring before the onward march
of the civilized world. Change she can not without outraging
the piety of every true Mussulman ; for her religion forbids
those changes of government and manners which are neces-
sary to her advancement. - If she clings to her ecclesiastical
policy, her political damnation is inevitable. If, breaking
away from these trammels, she launches forth upon the wild
sea of political experiment, then her religion must founder
and go down for ever. How long it will be before the can-
non which have desolated the fairest towns of Syria, and
curbed the iron spirit of the rebel pacha, shall be pointed at
the seraglio of the sulfcan, man can not j^redict. But the
voice of Providence, borne to us on every breeze, declares that
the decree against this once terrible power has gone forth.
The allied power of all Europe may retard, but it can not
stop the descending bolt. The haughty and cruel Ottoman,
whose tread of death has crushed the minds and hearts of
millions, whose sway has consigned to solitude and decay the
garden spots of earth, whose presence is a moral upas beneath
which science dies, and the living vigor of the immortal spirit
withers — that power which has sought only to enslave, never
to deliver ; to destroy, never to build up ; — is hastening to
dissolution. And when the empire of Othman falls, when
once the throne of the sultan, like that of the caliph, crum-
bles, then assuredly cometh the jubilee of Christianity over
prostrate Islamism. Far and wide as the religion of Moham- ,

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIOlv'ARY EFFORT. 225

med is diffused, its professors, from every quarter of the globe,
from the sands of Ethiopia, the mountains of Tartary, and
the distant shores of China, all turn their eyes with anx-
ious gaze to Constantinople, as the last refuge of their faith.
When once the stone cut out from the mountain -without
hands, shall strike this colossus, when once its mosques shall
echo to the voice of Christian worshipers, the death-knell of
Islamism will be sounded over the earth. Not more surely
will the arch fall whose key-stone is rent away, than will this
huge edifice of religious imposture tumble into ruins, when
once the empire of the Turk is overturned. It was the Turk
who came to the succor of this religion when the dynasty of
the caliphs was in ruins at his feet. This young, bold, hardy
race of Tartars infused new life into the religion of the con-
quered Saracen, wheii it was rapidly tending to decay. And
as the sultan falls into the same grave his ancestors dug for
the caliph, what new power will arise to bid the decaying
tree flourish green again over their sepulchers ?

About the same period in which Mohammed appeared,
another religious system, equally corrupt and still more for-
midable to true Christianity, sprang up in her bosom. The
influences which originated the Papacy had been operating
since apostolic days. But amidst the fire and the sword of
persecution, the system could not reach its full development.
It waited for the installation of Christianity as the State reli-
gion of the civilized world. That great event gave to the
Church splendid temples for its worship, princely wealth and
power for its ministers. Amidst the sudden splendor that
encompassed her, as she emerged from the caverns and the
lairs whither persecution had driven her, ambition, lordly,
coiTupt, and all grasping, wove that triple crown, which,
within little more than a century, pressed the brow of the
bishop of Rome, and before wliich the crowns of Europe's
proudest sovereigns have often been lowered. I need not
dwell upon the character of this spiritual despotism. Suffice
it here to remark, that of all the forces of evil aiTayed against
the early Church, not one can be compared with this.

15

226 LITERAEY ADDRESSES.

Yet, with this terrible power, Christianity has abeady
fought, under circumstances the most unfavorable to success,
and triumphed. The same weapons which then won the vic-
tory are now in our hands ; the energy, which then shook
down so many pillars of this vast structure, still lives to carry
onward the work of reformation. Nor is it true, as it has
been asserted, that the relative positions of Protestant Chris-
tianity and the Pajiacy, are nearly the same as they were left
by the Reformation. It may be true that the Pope wields a
scepter over as many millions now, as he did then ; but who
is ignorant of the fact that this power is, in many cases, little
more than nominal. Slowly, indeed, as moral forces usually
work, until they reach the crisis of sudden development, but
no less surely, has the spiritual despotism of Rome been losing
its hold upon the conscience of mankind. Government after
government has broken its political power, until the old man
on the Tiber has become an enthroned cij)her amidst the
gigantic powers of Europe. Nor is it a small matter in our
favor, that tliis religion, ever clinging to the thrones of des-
potism and courting their darkness, is failing before the march
of revolution and the progress of free principles. The advance
of human society is against the power which reached its giant
height only amidst the darkness of the middle ages. Hence,
in every part of the world, where the principles of liberty and
the elements of science are the common property of the peo-
ple, this system makes no advance. True it is, that in both
this land and in that of our fathers, it has exhibited within
the last few years an unwonted vigor. But what religion ever
yet died without exhibiting signs of returning animation ?
The wick, just ready to expire, flashes up for an instant with
singular brightness ; the body, from which life is fast depart-
ing, is convulsed to its extremities ere the fainting heart
ceases to beat. Mohammedanism itself, now that its death-
knell is about to be rung, is going forth on missions of prop-
agandism to Central Africa. And can any one suppose that
a religious despotism of this tremendous power will die as an
infant falls asleep, and not as a giant tosses and heaves his

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 227

unwieldy frame, before liis cry of agony is hushed for
ever ?

In concluding this comparison of the religious influences
hostile to the ancient and modern Church, it is necessary to
notice the opposition of infidelity and erroneous forms of
Christian doctrine. In the first ages of Christianity, the great
conflict was with Paganism. A system which denied the
truth of Christianity, of Paganism, and of Judaism, which,
while it trod upon the Bible, laughed at the rites of the Pan-
theon, existed indeed ; but it was an esoteric doctrine, hidden
within the groves of the philosopher and the cloister of the
priest. That bold and shameless infidelity, which, since the
Refoi'mation has stniggiod so fiercely to sweep Christianity
from the earth, had not yet appeared. It was the offspring
of a later age. The mental agitations, the amazing intellect-
ual activity, to which the efforts of the reformers in heaAdng
off the superstitions of Rome had given birth, in connection
with the frightful licentiousness engendered by the operation
for centuries of a corrupt religion, quickened into life, and
gave character and force to the delusion of modern infidelity.
The influence of the Reformation, in awakening the intellect,
extended far beyond the counteracting influence of its doc-
trines. The public mind was everywhere aroused by the ex-
citing nature of the contest. The old channels of thought
were forsaken, the old landmarks of doctrine were swept away,
and the great deep was broken up. Nor is it a matter of
surprise that, in countries where the truths of the Reforma-
tion were not suficred to root themselves, or where they could
gi'ow only in the hot-house of State patronage, infidelity
should have reached up to so lofty a height.

With this fierce, proud, and malignant opponent, Chris-
tianity has been obliged to grapple in circumstances, than
Avhich none could be more favorable for the total rout of her
forces. Against her were arrayed the highest powers of wit
and science. Heaven suffered minds of the first order to waste
their energies in support of this negation of truth. There is
scarcely a single department of intellectual labor in which

228 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

infidelity has not had distinguished advocates. It has gone
down into the subterranean depths of metaphysics, and labored
with the energy of a Hume to upheave the foundations of hu-
man belief. It has traversed the sunny fields of literature,
and breathed its poison on the page of history. It has as-
. cended the rostrum of the statesman, and in the costume of
liberty has employed the force of eloquence to subvert the
noble truths of Christian freedom. It has sat on the high
places of sacred literature, corrupting the fountains of relig-
ious influence, and prostituting the acquisitions of learning to
the horrid work of debauching the teachers of men. It has
even gone up into the pulpit and wielded the heavenly sym-
pathies, attractions, and powers of that sacred place against
the life of that religion which gave them existence. Not sat-
isfied with this wide range of efl'ort, it has descended into the
styes of human corruption, and there, by ribaldry, by false-
hood, by pandering to all the licentious desires of man, it has
toiled with insane energy to shut the door of refonnation upon
the criminal, and extinguish for ever the still glimmering spark
of hope in the breast of the abandoned.

In conducting these wide-spread ojjerations, it brought to
its aid all the then present and well-remembered corruptions
of a most degenerate Christianity. The infidel wielded the
corruptions of the Church against the very life of the Church.
The pride of the hierarchy, the licentiousness of the priest-
hood, the bigoted ignorance of churchmen, the blood of heroic
martyrs, and the contemptible fooleries by which the mul-
titude were deluded, which had defiled the history of the
Church for centuries, gave to a keen-sighted infidelity an im-
mense advantage over its opponent. The former boasted of
its tendency to disenthrall the mind ; it was about to intro-
duce the jubilee of knowledge, refinement, liberty, and equal-
ity. The latter, wherever it turned, was met by the hideous
form of that corruption which had preyed for ages upon the
peace, morality, and hberties of men, TJie tendencies of the
former were not yet fully developed. It had not yet enjoyed
space and opportunity for the manifestation of its character.

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONAKY EFFORT. 229

The latter, for a cycle of years, had been the dominant reli-
gion of Europe, and partially of Asia and Africa. Around
the former clustered all the attractions of novelty, and large
hope ; around the latter, the damning persecutions, con'up-
tions, hypocrisies, and failures of centuries. Under such cir-
cumstances the conflict hegan, and with such weapons it was
carried forward.

For a time these vast efforts portended the ruin of the
Christian cause. But it was only for a brief season. These
hordes of the infidel ravaged, but they did not conquer ; they
passed over the land with fire and sword ; but they roused
the ardor of Christian zeal. They taught the Christian the
discipline of their arms. Momentary defeat became the means
of the more comj^lete and permanent triumph of the cross.
A thousand intellects concentered their keen vision upon the
evidences of Christianity. The fields of sacred history and
science were trodden in every part by men of robust under-
standing, boundless learning, and profound judgment. With
infinite toil, with inexhaustible patience, with superhuman
energy, they labored at the defense of our faith. Around
Christianity they reared bulwarks, high, massive, impreg-
nable to the assaults of irreligion. They did still more than
this ; they entered the domains of the infidel. History was
met by history, philosophy by philosophy, research by still
deeper research. At every step the arms of infidelity were
turned against itself. Meanwhile the mask fell from this
mockery of religion. It stood forth disclosed in its naked
ugliness before the world. Heaven suffered it to occupy a
noble theatre on which to act out its true character in the
view of all coming time. From that scene of raging passions,
wild uproar, legalized hate, lust and butchery, I need not
draw the vail. The memory of that time fills the soul with
horror. That scene inspired courage into the Christian,
while it covered the face of the infidel with paleness. His
chosen vantage ground was wi-ested from him. Where are
now the boasts, the jubilations, the paeans of triumph in an-
ticiimtion of the speedy fall of Christianity, which then deaf-

230 LITEKARY ADDRESSES.

ened the ear of Heaven ? Where is now that host of philoso-
phers, wits, poets, historians, statesmen, and crowned heads,
which Httle .more than half a centmy ago licked the dust
trodden by the feet of the strumpet goddess of infidelity ?
The song of triumph has ceased ; the loud huzzas are hushed.
The swellings of that wretched atheism, instead of engulf-
ing, have borne the ark of Christian truth high on the solid
earth. Doubtless this opponent will still continue to resist
the advance of the cross. We know not, indeed, but that he
is even now summoning his energies for another fearful strug-
gle. Nor is it improbable that with him Christianity is des-
tined to grapple most vigorously in the conflict which is to
chain the prince of darkness and usher in the millennial morn.
Yet she fights with an oft-conquered foe ; around her are the
trophies of victory and the impregnable defenses of our faith.
The Church has reached a position which commands the en-
tire field.

In addition to this great obstacle, Christianity has to con-
tend with others, springing up in her own ranks. There is, in
the breast of the impenitent, a spirit hostile to the humiliating
truths of the gospel, while at the same time conscience, un-
able to find repose in a system of barren negations, impels to
the adoption of con-ect religious principles. To satisfy the
demands of conscience, the costume of religion is preserved ;
to gratify the spirit of infidelity, the life of religion is refined
away. To the joint influence of these forces is mainly due
the production of numerous errors, adorned, outwardly, with
the blazonings of true religion, but exhibiting, to the atten-
tive observer, only an emasculated Christianity.

It is not to be denied that the early Church was greatly
injured by the prevalence of numerous forms of error among
her own disciples. Aside from the causes already assigned,
which had peculiar force over minds wholly strangers to gen-
uine piety, there were others which operated to lead astray
the truly pious. It was an age of much popular ignorance.
With the exception of the Grreek and the Jew, the great mass
of the people dwelt on the confines of barbaiism and civiliza-

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 231

tion. In such circumstances, it was to be expected that error
would spring up, even under the preaching of the most en-
lightened and cautious teachers. But, besides the general
ignorance of the people, their best educated and most intelli-
gent instructors were, in many instances, imbued with a phi-
losophy as unlike that of the cross as paganism is unlike the
law of Moses. The influence of this false philosophy was de-
plorably bad. The ignorance of a people unaccustomed to
draw nice moral distinctions, and the scarcity of the Word,
under the slow transcriptions of the scribe, gave full scope to
the workings of this philosophy. The results are everywhere
visible in the errors which mar almost every page in the early
and subsequent history of the Church. Nor is it extravagant
to affirm that these, almost as much as the power of heathen-
ism itself, clogged the chariot wheels of salvation. If the
battle-ax of a pagan Celsus now and then dashed down a
parapet, the weapons of a philosophic Origen were tire-brands
scattered within the sacred city.

In the conflict with errors of this character, the modern
Church has, in some respects, the advantage over the ancient.
The mental collisions and accumulated research of eighteen
hundred years have given greater definiteness both to the
views of truth and the perceptions of error. While it is
undoubtedly true that the early Christians seized hold of the
grand truths of the gospel, it is no less true that the systori
of truth it embodied was but dimly apprehended. The minor
points of doctrine, the relation of the different parts of the
system to each other, were not understood. The main points
of a system may be easily apprehended, while their relations
to each other may demand the investigations of centuries fully
to unfold them. It is here that there is room for advancement
in the knowledge of Christianity ; science can not, indeed, bet-
ter the Bible, but it may aid us in bringing out what is in the
Bible. It can not prune and alter, and modify, and practically
annihilate any of the truths actually to be found therein ; but
it may contribute to the more perfect development of their re-
lations to each other. Without arrogance, no one can affirnj

232 LITEKARY ADDRESSES.

that, in tlie mode of ioterpreting the sacred Oracles, he has
reached perfection in theory and in practice. Far less can this
be asserted of the ancients. We know that some of the prin-
ciples on which they reasoned are false. Nor is it too much to
say that, in this respect, there has been a great advance since
the days of the Fathers. Indeed, the circumstances of the
early Church were, in the main, unfavorable to the profound
investigation and calm discussion of the minor truths. It was
an age of persecution, when men were obhged to cling to the
strong points of truth. It was an age of missionary action,
when the energies of the Church were mainly directed to the
propagation of the gospel. There was httle opportunity for
quiet meditation, except in the cell of the monk, and the
cave of the heiinit, to which the latter part of this period
gave rise.

In addition to the advantages enjoyed by the modern
Church, in more definite perceptions of the system of truth,
there is a familiarity with the character and workings of en'or
which enables her to devise and execute the measures necessaiy
for its overthrow. The incessant warfare with it, in which she
has so long been engaged, has given her a keen perception of
its multiform character and protean asj)ect ; an experimental
acquaintance with the operations by which it is ever attempt-
ing to subvert the truth. It would be passing beyond the
limits of rational conjecture to assert, with one of the most
original vsriters of this age, that the fields of en-or have all
been sown, the harvest reaped, and that, for the future, it can
only reproduce antiquated and exposed dogmas. It is not im-
probable that such vast systems of impostm'e, as that of the
Papacy, have all appeared. In this late age of the world, it
seems hardly probable that other systems will arise to rival
the deadly influence of this. Such elaborate and systematized
errors are the result of the silent workings of centuries ; their
power is only overthrown after ages of conflict. But with this
exception, as society advances, as the relations of tha difierent
parts of truth become more fully developed, as each age bears
;in impress peculiar to itself, we must exjject that error will

OBSTAOLKS, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 233

throw off its antiquated costume and adapt itself to the char-
acter of the times. It is always one in essence ; diversified in
its manifestations as the firmament ; yet, even on this suppo-
sition, the knowledge possessed by the Church of the past ap-
pearances and operations of error is of immense advantage.
The mind of the Church has been disciplined to a rapid de-
tection of the advance of error and the means best adapted to
meet it. The past has made her wary, deliberate, skillful.

The only remaining point of comparison between the an-
cient and modern Church, which I shall notice, is the litera-
ture of their respective times. When Christianity arose, the
science of the world was in the hands of its op^jonents. The
canonized shades of Plato and Aristotle frowned upon it ;
the eagle-eyed philosophy of Greece, which then swayed the
scepter of science, desi)ised the gospel as the babblings of in-
sanity. While a Tacitus and a Juvenal could turn away
from it with the contemptuous exclamation^ — "An execrable
superstition." The great masters in the realm of literature,
the minds disciplined to thought, and rich in human lore, the
philosophic historian, the brilliant poet, the astute dialecti-
cian, the powerful advocate, the large-minded statesman, with
scarcely a single exception, out of Judea, poured their fire
upon the fisherman of Galilee.

Look now abroad upon the domain of the heathen world !
The orbs of its pagan glory have all set ; the very stars which,
in such luminous constellations, then flamed in the firma-
ment, have all gone down to rise, in fresh, undying radiance,
upon the institutions of a Christian peo^jle. There is dark-
ness settling, like a pall, over the wide, pagan land. While
around the cross is gathered the mind, the knowledge, the
intellectual enterprise of the world. It is not asserted, in-
deed, that men of science are uniformly Christian in their
convictions or their practice. Yet it is true that Christianity
embosoms the multitude of those who are carrying forward,
with indomitable vigor, the triumphs of mind ; she breathes
into them the spirit of inquiry ; she calls them from airy and
evanescent dreams, to the, practical, the real, the true. On

234 LITERAEY ADDEESSES.

her liistoiy, time is continually engraving, with a vividness
that shall defy the lapse of ages, names as hright, as radiant,
as powerful in the influence they gave to the advance of truth,
as any to he found in the scroll of this world's record. Nor
is this all the truth. She seizes hold of, and appropriates to
the advance of her own great objects, the discoveries, the toils
of her most hitter foes. She domesticates the gifted minds of
pagan Greece and Rome in the groves of her academies and the
halls of her colleges. She wrests from the hands of infidelity
the weapons for which it has toiled, with wonderful patience,
amidst the mausoleums of Egypt's grandeur and Egypt's fame,
and plants them as buttresses around the truth of God. Go,
single out the wanior champion of infidelity, a Voltaire, a
Hume, a Diderot, a Gibbon ; and I will show you one from
the triumphs of whose genius Christianity has gathered, and
is gathering, the materials of science, wherewith to swell her
last great triumph over the downfall of error throughout the
world. She fears not the development of truth or the march
of science. While Rome threatens Cojjernicus, and imprisons
Galileo, she cheers on her Bacon, rejoices in the triumphs of
her Newton, and with a force, as gentle as it is irresistible,
compels the votary of science to bring his ofiering to her
shrine. She believes that all truth is one in its source, har-
monious in its relations, and one in its end. The progress of
true learning, she regards as in perfect harmony with that of
true rehgion. In the widening circle of science she beholds
a wider field for the triumphs of the cross. Hence it is that,
standing on the mount of truth, the science of the world be-
comes her servitor.

The advantage we enjoy, in this respect, above the ancient
Church, is obvious. We are qualified to be the teachers of
the heathen world in science, as well as in rehgion. The
learning of the mass of the followers of Mohammed is limited
to the rhapsodies of the Koran ; for the light that shone around
the palaces of the Moor in Spain had gone out long before he
was swept from her shore. And, aside from the flickering
flame that may yet burn in Arabia the Happy, the entire

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 235

science of that religious imposture would not equal that of a
Chnstian schoolboy. As for the heathen world at large, it has
done nothing, for ages, but stereotype the errors of its anti-
quity. Mind is stagnant. The mental vigor which marked
the ages of Plato and Cicero is nowhere to be found. There
is no bursting away from the eternal round of hoary iiuerili-
ties and childish superstitions. But the grand fact here to
be noticed as most favorable to the success of Christianity, is
that their systems of science are all interlocked with those of
religion. The explosion of their systems of learning must
rend their s}stems of faith. And as our schools, with the
miracle-worker of the modern Church, the press, upheaves
the absurdities which constitute their literature, the towering
fabric of superstition, reared upon it, must come down.

I have thus taken a hurried view of some of the principal
forces arrayed against the ancient and modern Church, in con-
nection with the resources in their possession to overcome
them. With these facts before us, who, in order to secure
the ultimate and most enlarged success of missionary effort,
could wish to i^lace the Church in the position she occupied
when Stephen harangued the Sanhedrim ; when Paul preached
to the most intelligent of the pagans, from the steps of the
Areopagus, amidst the temples, the altars, the statues, the
splendid monuments of Grecian prowess, piety, and science —
beneath the shade of Nero's palace, in view of the Cohseum,
crowded with its scores of thousands of the most enlightened
and refined of Roman citizens, gloating over the dying agonies
of his noble coadjutors, and at the heart of that colossal em-
pire whose shadow darkened not only over the whole civil-
ized, but of vast portions of the barbarian world ? To effect
such a change in the jjosition of the modern Church would be
to transfer the mind, the intellectual enterprise of the world,
from her friends to her opponents — to blot out all that ad-
vance of science which has given such tremendous power to
Christianity, over the absurd systems of heathen literature —
to annihilate the press, thereby sweeping away the multiplied
facilities of this age for the diffusion of truth, the overthrow

236 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

of error, and bringing back upon the Church the night when
the simple word of Grod, the world's great consirvator, was
dependent njDon the slow pen of the scribe for multipiication,
at the cost of a rich man's fortune, and the gains of a poor
man's life — to break up the mighty chains of commerce, foun-
dering your ships, blowing up your steamers, giving back the
needle to the mine, and the ocean to its old masters, the un-
blessing winds and storms — to consolidate the various nations
of the world, whose very rivalry and jarrings are hastening
the political emancipation of man, into one vast despotism ;
its energies swayed by one mind, and that mind filled with
exterminating rage toward the Christian Church. But I need
not complete the picture. It is enough for us to know that
there is little in early Christianity of which we regret the
loss ; that there is nothing in present difficulties to appall ;
and we have every thing necessary, in the outward circum-
stances of the Church, both to inspire ho^^e and check pre-
sumption. There is but one thing wanting, at this day, in
connection with these advantages which the ancient Church
possessed in a most remarkable degree, to insure the most
rapid, wide-spread, and permanent success — I refer to the de-
votion, the faith, the zeal, with which the Church herself
should engage in this work. It is true, and it is a truth to
be deeply pondered by men of enlarged minds, who may be
skeptical respecting the ultimate triumph of our religion,
that in no period of the world's history has there existed a
greater amount of intelligent, well-balanced, devoted piety,
than in this age. With all the corruptions in doctrine, and
extravagance in measures of this day before us, the assertion
is hazarded, that religion has never, on the whole, embraced
less of fanaticism, more of intelligence, wealth, and enter-
prise, than at this moment. Let the Church, then,, but awake
to the vigorous prosecution of the great object before her, and,
imitating the self-consecration of the early Christians, thi'ow
herself into this great enterprise, with all her vast resources,
and energy, divine and resistless, will be infused into her ex-
ertions, and the day of triumph will quickly come. In the

OBSTACLES, ETC., TO MISSIONARY EFFORT. 237

formation of this association, as well as in the marshaling of
the Christian host ahroad throngh the world, I behold the
sign of the rise of that spirit which, when it shall generally
fill the heart, and waken the zeal of the renewed on earth,
will level alike the throne of the despot, and the time-
cemented superstitions to which they cKng ; before which the
Crescent will wane into darkness, the funeral pile, and bloody
idols of the Hindoo, flee away ; the intolerance, the coiTup-
tions, the fierce contentions of nominal Christendom vanish,
while the song of redemption, which it first breathed forth on
the plains of Bethlehem, will swell up, in grand chorus, from
every altar and temple, every cottage and palace, and every
hill and vale. The voices of ten thousand new-born sons of
Zion fall ujion my ear from the isles of the Pacific and the
shores of India, Hail them as the prelude of that universal
anthem which will enwrap the world when the gospel shall
illumine every dwelling, and kindle the fire of a pure religion
on every altar, and in every heart beneath the whole heaven.

YIII.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS TO ART AND
THEOLOGY.*

In analyzing the spirit of any age or country, we shall
find that it is the result of various causes, of elements diverse
in character and in degree of power, which combine to pro-
duce the manifestations of national life. It is the predom-
inance of a few of these at any one time which gives to that
period their name and form. It was in the early part of the
sixteenth century that the inductive philosophy received its
gTand development — a philosophy, indeed, which had always
prevailed more or less, and regulated in a great degree human
life, but which, as then it was taken above the common
affairs of men, wrought into system and made to give law to
the generalization of all science, has, by consent of mankind,
stamped that age with its own impress. It was in the com-
mencement of the eighteenth century that mathematical sci-
ence in its purest forms attained a sudden and prodigious
expansion ; it was when Newton and Leibnitz sat on rival
thrones, and from year to year dazzled the world with their
discoveries and those of their followers, that the pure mathe-
matics made the most surprising advance. Yet this was the
age of Addison, ushering in the Augustan age of British lit-
erature, when poets and elegant writers swarmed throughout
England, and our language received that finish of style which
has ever since characterized it. And just as men look at this
age from one or the other of these positions, they will call it
the epoch either of mathematical science or elegant literature.

* An address delivered before the Miami Union Literary Society of Miami
University, June 25, 1851.

NATUEAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC 239

Tiie period in which we live may be styled the age of liberty,
or of commercial enterprise, or of popular instruction, or
of wide-spread organizations for the diffusion of the gospel
through the world. In addition to these and other charac-
teristics, however, there is one which seems to me to enter
vitally into the spirit of the times, which, as a mighty force,
is bearing society itself onward, which is intimately associ-
ated with all our commercial enterprises, and has relations of
amity and support to both liberty and religion. I do not
refer to the press alone, but to that which created the press ;
I do not allude to steam and its triumphs, but to that of
which this is but one of a rapidly increasing progeny. I do
not speak of schools, academies, and colleges, but of that
which is supplying in a great part the elements of their in-
struction, and dictating to them a new world of knowledge.
It is to physical science that I here refer, to that attention to
material things, that enthusiastic study of the natural world
in all its heights and depths, in all its forms of beauty and
grandeur, in all its secret processes and operations, which is
enlisting to so great an extent much of the talent and giving
character to much of the learning of this age.

It is not to be denied that natural science — and I use the
term in its broadest signification — it is not to be denied that
this science has within the last half century advanced with a
rapidity unjmralleled in the history of the world. It has come
forth from the smoky laboratory of the alchemist and the
dusty study of the astrologer, and refusing longer to be held
in bondage by the categories of logic or the formula^ of em-
pirics, it has risen to the dignity of true science, and vindi-
cated its claim to a high position among ennobling pursuits.
Allying itself on the one hand to the arts which are more di-
rectly concerned in the abridging of human labor, the provis-
ion of luxury and comfort gathered from all the world, and
on the other with the more purely intellectual pursuits of the
educated, it has forced itself into a position of authority and
power from which it is utterly impossible it should ever be
cast down. It is no longer a search for the secret of trans-

240 LITEEARY ADDRESSES,

muting a base metal into gold ; it is rather the demonstra-
tion of the thousand uses to which that base metal may be so
applied as not only to relieve it from all its baseness, but im-
part to it a virtue of genuine excellence and true nobility
which the silver and gold never knew. It is no longer the
casting of nativities and horoscopes, the busy idleness of a
puerile, vaunting astrology : but it is the vision that, with
more than eagle penetration, looks into space and tlirougJi the
crowds of worlds that roll in mazy pathways around us, and
it is the powerful understanding that watches their motions
and determines their positions, and so begins an approxi-
mation to the final solution of that magnificent problem, the
actual construction and ultimate law of motion of this bound-
less universe. It is no longer the trickery of an amusing
magic, nor the elaborately constructed and brilliant hypoth-
esis of a theorist who, in his study and by the force of thought
abstracted from all observation, pretends to interjDret nature;
it is rather the actual unfolding of the amazing powers of that
nature, the patient hearing of her voice, the gathering up of
her utterance, and their harmonious combination, so as to pre-
sent the book to our eyes as God wrote it, with glory stream-
ing from every page and every line. That nature is thus
questioned on every hand, that it constitutes a fact too broad
and influential to be overlooked in an attempt to compass the
spirit of this age, is too obvious to demand proof in the pres-
ence of such an audience. Its quickening power is seen and
felt all around us. It has entered ancient universities, where
Aristotle ruled for centuries, and rudely pushed him from his
stool. It has sent Plato, with his To KaXov and his To eidoXov^
his forms without substance, and his genera without species,
to learn practical wisdom from the natural and living things
that fill God's vast creation, and manifest forth his mighty
Godhead. Even the proud realms of classic lore, and the
fields where of yore the men of dialectics and syllogisms trod
so grandly, have been rudely invaded by this modern adven-
turer ; and although we have not fully realized the large sys-
tem of university education which Bacon, disgusted with the

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 241

everlasting study of precedents, untested tlieorles, and the
total suppression of the free spirit of inquiry into the world
of nature, propounded long years ago, yet we are daily ap-
proximating to its full realization. Compare the list of joro-
fessorships in any of the older universities of this continent
or Europe at the present with one forty or fifty years ago,
and read the progress of physical science, and the command-
ing position to which it has reached. To say nothing of as-
tronomy and other branches of the mixed mathematics, where
and what were chemistry and geology and minei'alogy and
natural philosophy and anatomy and physiology and the
associated branches of natural science ? Not only is it es-
sential to a fully manned university now, that it should have
its chairs of natural philosophy and chemistry and geology,
but also those of agricultural and vegetable chemistiy, and
the application of natural science to the arts : while scarcely
a school of any reputation is deemed complete without a
laboratory and an apparatus for the illustration of the more
common branches of natural philosophy and the system of
astronomy. Within the last week I have seen an original
plan for a university in the capital of an eastern State that
embraces nominally three faculties of law, medicine, and
natural science, but which in effect is a more perfect realiza-
tion of the great philosopher's idea of a University than any
thing we now have in this country ; its chief peculiarity
being the prominence given to the experimental sciences, the
free scope allowed for a thorough investigation of the works
of God. It is, indeed, difficult to realize either the progress
or the results of the study of natural science by a comparison
of brief periods. We must go back a few centuries into the
heart of one of the most civilized countries of the world, and
witness the grandest pageant of the day — the pageant that
most fully revealed the spirit of the times, and declared the
bent and taste of the minds that give law to nations. In the
environs of a city now the largest in the world, and the me-
tropolis of the grandest empire on which the sun looks down,
there were gathered a few centuries ago the brave, the beau-

242 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

tiful, the noble, and the mighty of a nation's people. Kings
and queens were there, and earls and barons, the makers of
kings, stood proudly by their side ; for it was a day when
royalty came forth from its seclusion, and the satellites of a
court and the grandees of a nation had met to behold how
men sheathed in iron, with their brains in their stout arms
and fists, could ride the hardest and dash the lance most
powerfully against each other's brazen shields, and hack most
lustily their steel-clad skulls. And through that vast array
there was the most intense enthusiasm, and grave and gay
chose their champions, and never a knight went forth to bat-
tle in the tournament that carried not with him the sympa-
thies and prayers of many for his success, while the victor
gathered the applause of thousands, and from the hands of the
fairest and noblest there received the crown of glory. Nor
was the influence of such a scene confined to those who wit-
nessed it. The fame of it spread in slow but ever enlarging
circles through palaces and cottages, through courts and peas-
ant gatherings, while from side to side Europe talked of the
splendor and the bravery of the actors, and the flower of a
nation's chivalry assembled, and the beauty of the fair dames
who graced the stin-ing scene with their presence. Such were
the spectacles that then moved the hearts of refined and civ-
ilized nations, and to such pursuits were the strength of a na-
tion's manhood directed, and by such actors were the grandest
jirizes of earthly renown borne off". Let us pass at a single
stride from the past to the present. Let us visit the same
spot, around which now the population of that same, city in
its vast expansion has reared miles of dwellings and gathered
up the wealth of half the globe. The knight and mail-clad
warrior have disappeared. The huge battlc-ax and lance are
seen no more. Where esquires and nobles fought, has risen
in a night, at the creative will of science, a palace vast in its
dimensions, beautiful in its proportions, and grand in its im-
pression. No huge buttresses and deep moat and lofty wall
and tuiTct and keep and draw-bridge are there, for it is the
temple of peace and unity, within which representative na-

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIOXS,KTC. 243

lions gather, and against which no hostile foot advances.
Royalty is there, with earls and lords, and all the magnifi-
cence of the richest courts, but they assemble to do honor to
another scene, and grace the triumphs of another style of
manhood. The real heroes of this modern tournament, the
men whose names grow familiar as household words to wliole
continents, are they whose genius has re<ared such a temple
and filled it with the handicraft of the world, and gathered
there the flower and fruit of science long; toilino; in solitude
and depression for the advancement of the outward state of
man and the elevation of society. That wondrous exhibition
on which the eyes of nations are turned, beside which the
splendors of royalty grow dim, and the brute force and war-
like magnificence of the age of chivalry retire into contempti-
ble obscurity, is a type of the age, a mirror of its spirit, a
striking indication of the hold which all these pursuits which
have the elevation and comfort and improvement of society
as their chief end, are taking upon the hearts of men.

But it is time for us to leave this general surview and de-
scend to a more particular inquiry into the connection of this
increased study of natural science with those practical pursuits
which are essential to the progress of society, with those arts
which adorn and that religion which saves the world.

That this devotion to physical science has a connection
most intimate and vital with those pursuits most directly as-
sociated with our physical comfort, is obvious to an attentive
observer. It is a fact well worth being treasured up and re-
flected upon, that the world is so bound together in all its
parts, and even the universe around is so allied to us, that a
discovery in any part of it of some new phenomenon, or the
original combination of some of its elements in the form of
an invention, is in some way made to affect happily the whole.
It is not now as once it was, when men studied not to flnd
out the powers and attributes of the world, but in defiance
of nature sought the demonstration of some ingenious theory,
baseless as the fabric which the imagination of youth roars in
the distant future. It is now the aim of the student of natural

244 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

science to observe the facts just as they present themselves
to the cautious mind, and on these as a basis immovable as the
foundations of the globe itself, establish those broad generaliz-
ations which give to each department of study the character
of true science. And no matter where or in what department
he may push forward his investigations, yet it will be strange
indeed if he make not some discoveries which will contribute
something to that practical knowledge by which labor is re-
warded, the sphere of mind enlarged, and human comfort
promoted. The investigations of an obscure chemist in an-
other part of the globe are enhancing prospectively eveiy acre
of arable land on the earth's surface. And thus the chemist
and the farmer — the geologist and the smith — the inventor
and the operator — the astronomer, the merchant and sailor,
are each connected together by invisible but real circles of in-
fluence. Nay, often the most barren fields of nature, into
which only an enthusiastic devotion ^vill carry the explorer,
furnish the richest blessing to the world. The man who,
amidst the ridicule and contempt of courts and nations, went
forth upon the ocean to discover not a new world, but a new
passage to an old world, sowed his seed upon seemingly the
baiTenest rock, and reaped the richest harvest for mankind.
The observation of each star that twinkles, the determination
of its position and times, is linked on to the perfection of the
whole system of navigation and geographical discovery through-
out the world, and is aiding forward that stupendous commerce
which even now is net-working the globe. The discovery of
Daguerre has furnished employment for scores of thousands,
and comfort and luxury to millions. The original explorer is
constantly accumulating materials which the genius of the in-
ventor and the skill of the craftsman will fasliion into new
powers of labor and new sources of wealth. Meanwhile the
enthusiasm of the student and the exjjerimenter descends to
the multitude ; and the prospect of new avenues for advance-
ment or the just fame of a national benefactor rouses many
minds and quickens genius itself in the race of improvement.
As each new discovei-v is announced, there are intellects on

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 245

the alert not only to introduce it into the general systems of sci-
ence, but to criticise it with a practical eye, to seize hold of
it as an available force for the promotion of the interests of
mankind. It was the student and the experimenter who dis-
covered the capacity of soft iron instantly to become or cease
to be a magnet ; but no sooner is the discovery announced,
than the practical genius of the inventor seizes hold of it as a
means for talking round the globe. And thus the student
clears the pathway for the inventor, and the inventor pro-
vides the models for the skillful operator, and the operator
brings forth his improvements and rouses the public mind to
grasp a new idea and ascend another step in physical progress.
The action and reaction between these different classes of
thinkers and workers not only affects themselves personally ;
it spreads through society an influence favorable to enterprise
and advancement ; it stimulates labor, breaks up the barriers
which divide men into classes and retard their progress. What-
ever affects directly the physical improvement of society, what-
ever is adapted to mitigate the original curse pronounced
upon the earth, and while it abridges toil, brings to it larger
means of bettering its condition, touches some of the most
common springs of human action, and creates in turn a
healthful mental excitement. 'The student of natural science
thus stands at the source of influences that affect all the ele-
ments of society ; that in time steal into the heart of nations
and modify the condition of empires. Call him idler, enthu-
siast, fool, if you will ; ridicule and starve him as a fit reward
for studies so meaningless to the dull eye of ignorance. Yet
wait awhile, and lo ! he has struck the rock, and the water
gushes forth and flows on for ever to quench the thirst of mil-
lions, and bear its benison to a wide and ever-enlarging cu-cle
of mortals.

Passing from this acknowledged tendency of natural sci-
ence, we come at once upon a more doubtful territory. The
question comes home to us, whether this wide-spread devo-
tion to the visible and the physical, is not destroying a just
devotion to the more purely intellectual and spiritual.

246 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

whether the analysis of soils tends not to withdraw our stu-
dents from the analysis of language, and the anatomizing of
bodies from the anatomizing of minds, and the observation of
visible things from the high pursuit of purely intellectual
forms and processes, and the laws of matter from the laws of
nations ? Now it is certain that it is not for the highest in-
terest of society that the educated mind thereof should be
chiefly bent upon these physical attainments. For we must
have men with intellects disciplined to sound the depths of
law, and unfold the principles of civil and political organiza-
tion ; men who have studied the pathology of the human
system, and grasped the laws which control his physical and
mental powers ; we must have men who can compass the
laws of trade and trace out their obscure economy ; men who
will rise to the far-sighted vision of statesmen, and from the
confused experiences of the past and the present evolve that
style of national government which is in harmony with the
largest welfare of nations. We must have men who shall
cultivate the field of general literature — poets, historians,
essayists ; men who shall compass the force of languages, and
gather into one tongue the cream of the world's science ; who
shall study God's revelation in its holy original, and ascend-
ing above the metaphysics of individual sciences, master that
higher system in which they all unite. And it is a question
for us to examine whether the })liysical spirit of the age does
not tend to impair that higher culture, that thorough analysis
of mind, that study of language, that attention to the purer
mathematics, that compassing the lessons of history, that
observation of man as he has lived and developed himself in
his nobler works in all ages, and that calm, rigid, patient
spirit of generalization and acute reasoning, and that noble
style of expression, which are more or less essential to the
formation of those who are to mold and bless the world. Is
it not true that there may be a tendency in this spirit of the
age to monopolize all the merit and all the benefit and all the
mind ; to dictate the course of education and the style of
training not only for some, but for the multitude of those

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 247

who are to be preeminently the thinkers of the world ; to
denounce as antiquated all that bears not the stamp of its
own image, and test the value of all education and all pur-
suits by a visible, immediate and vulgar utilitarianism ? It
is undoubtedly the fact that in one respect this attention to
the facts of a visible science may exert, and has exerted, a
most happy influence upon our universities and regular
schools of education. It has in part made obsolete the
unending logomachies and disputations on subjects in them-
selves most trivial, or beyond the range of the human facul-
ties ; it has assisted in dispersing theories which had no just
foundation, and restrained the overflow of mind in the direc-
tion of investigations that have no higher end than to demon-
strate the skillfulness with which the air may be beaten, and
to display the gi'ound and lofty tumblings of intellectual
mountebanks. But may it not be, that in the sweej) of this
overflowing stream, there is a tendency not only to bear away
the useless and the fantastic and the efiete, but also to under-
mine palace and temple, and state house and cottage ; that
the physical may seek to give law to the spiritual, matter
control mind, and so the order of God be inverted, and that
which should be the subject at length rises to be the lord.
The ultimate result of such an uncounteracted influence
would be of all things most disastrous to natural science
itself For science is not merely a collection of facts, a series
of experiments. When the facts are gather' d and the experi-
ments are made, there is then a higher process of mind to be
undertaken, the process of drawing out the metaphysics of
which the facts known serve but as a basis. The house has
yet to be built, and it demands, to erect a noble structure, a
truly noble and generous discipline of the intellect, and the
compassing of many elements of thought, and the grasp of a
mind trained by other means to combine and analyze, to re-
ject the false and hold on to the true, and wait and think,
and think and wait, until the knowledge shapes itself into a
full-grown theory, and gains at length the just proportions
and stability and relations of science. Nay, more, there is

248 LITEKARY ADDRESSES.

sometimes contained in the higher discipline of the Univer-
sity and of abstract science the only knowledge of the instru-
ment Ly which natural science can effect its ends. The
invention of logarithms is an essential element of the great
progress of astronomy, and the higher mathematics are the
very gateway into this majestic universe that sparkles about
us. To suifer the spirit of a merely physical and immediate
utility to govern our modes of education, is just to sacrifice
on the altar of sense the highest of all utility, and at length
so emasculate the intellect as to weaken its power of general-
ization, and turn the student world into a crowd of busy
empirics. Let us, then, while on the one hand we appreciate
the excellence of this devotion to physics, guard against the
influence which would test all that is most noble by an out-
ward rule ; that would measure mind by a material standard,
and education by the knowledge it gives of the forms of
things, and the power it imparts to acquire a purely physical
wealth.

I pass to a few remarks resjiecting the influence of this
spirit of the age upon the fine arts. It is a common com-
plaint that this intense devotion to the physical and practical
has exerted, and is destined still further to exert, an unhappy
influence upon those arts which express the ideal and seek to
represent forms and sounds and scenery of imaginative beauty
and thrilling power. It may be true, indeed, that the over-
growth of this physical spirit is hostile to the arts which deal
so largely in ideal perfection. But this can be true only of its
excess. For it is not to be supposed that the j)ractical and
the ideal — the physical and the spiritual — the substance and
the form — the excellence and the glory, may not co-exist in
their highest perfection. They are ever so united in the cre-
ation of God, and they may be in the works of man. The
fountain that quenches thirst and fertilizes the earth, also
flashes beautifully in the sunlight and muiTQurs sweetly in
the stillness of evening. The tree that furnishes fruit and
shade and fuel, hath often a loveliness and a grandeur of color
aud form that raise the most vivid emotions of pleasure in a

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 249

soul sensitive to ideal excellence. The sunlight that warms
and cheers us, the most practical of all Grod's creatures, and
the mightiest generator of the useful in the world, how doth
he ]iaint the flowers of every hue and dress the trees in ever-
varying foliage, and wrap round the earth a robe like which
none so fills the ideal of beauty which the human mind can
form. And is it to be supposed that as the mind of man
shall more and more come to understand those works of the
infinite Creator he will fail to appreciate the noble and grand
and lovely, or from his study of the practical, lose all power
to express ideal perfection and combine into one the images
and sounds that most aftect and ravish the soul awake to all
that is perfect ? We are not of Plato, nor of Aristotle, in
this matter. Grod hath in his intellect the patterns of all ex-
cellent things ; and man, the image of Grod, hath not of him-
self, but in virtue of his sonship, the capacity to appreciate,
and from that which God created to combine and so express
such excellence in sensible forms or human language. This is
the basis of all noble art and of all genuine poetry. And while
it may be that in the first stages of a too exclusive attention
to that which seems to be practical and most immediately
useful, the mental and the remotely useful may be somewhat
neglected, yet at length the continuous pursuit of these sci-
ences and study of these works of God must bring round a
new, more vigorous and more correct appreciation of works of
art. Indeed, already much has been done to correct the mis-
judgment of artists and spread abroad a taste for their works.
The progress of science and the practical arts has sent genius
to work in a broader field. It has diff'used and is diffusing the
productions of genius in all mechanical skillfulness through
the entire community. If in architecture we rear no grand
cathedrals and hang no domes sublime in air, yet is there
growing a spirit which seeks to rear our dwellings and lay out
our grounds in ideal perfectness. If we paint no exquisite
transfigurations and chisel no Phidian Jupiters, yet is there
growing the desire to adorn our dwellings with the expression
of natural scenery and fashion our furniture in foi-ms of beauty.

250 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

The hand of taste and art is making itself visible in the con-
struction of even those monster powers by which huge steam-
ers are sent forth from continent to continent ; and I doubt
not there is often manifested in the form and finish of manv
of our most efficient instruments as exquisite a beauty of its
kind, as just an appreciation of symmetry and ideal perfection
as that which shines forth with such condensed brilliancy from
the works of the anci(3nt masters. There is in the mint at
Philadeli^hia an engine used for coining gold and silver, so ex-
quisitely formed and so astonishingly accurate in its running,
that if you fix your eye only upon the outer face of the regu-
lator, it is almost impossible to detect, from either sight or
sound, that it is in motion. If you will visit some of the
larger cabinet warerooms in our city, you will see ideal beauty,
in both form and finish, as lavishly displayed as in a gallery
of pure art. It is thus the spirit of art is molding not sim-
ply here and there a " Grreek Slave" or a " Landing of the
Pilgrims," but the every-day forms amid which men move,
giving a finer appearance to the common, exalting the mean,
refining the rude, and marrying substance and form, matter
and mind, the practical and the beautiful, as doth our great
Creator in his glorious works.

In another manner also is physical science cultivating and
gratifying a taste for art. The invention of engraving multi-
plies copies of the finest paintings, and scatters their spirit and
fragrance over the world. The instrument more recently in-
vented for copying statuary is preparing the way for the bring-
ing home to the mass of us who can not travel abroad to see
them the enjoyment of all their excellence. Sun-painting, too,
itself the triumph of genius, how it multiplies forms and fea-
tures we love to gaze upon ; how it rescues from an oblivion,
we would in vain seek to penetrate, the countenances of those
passed into the skies ! With all its imperfections, how im-
mensely superior as a work of art to the ill-drawn and worse-
painted caricatures called portraits that hang in many a draw-
ing-room, and stand as the misrepresentations of the loved and
the lost ! Nor have we reached the summit of perfection in

I

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 251

this direction. Genius will achieve nobler triumphs in this
field ; and yon orb of light will yet at its invocation paint for
us on the metal, as he does in the mirror and the water and all
over nature,forms that will surpass, in soft and delicate finish,
in admirable drawing, in exquisite coloring and light and shade,
and in naturalness of expression, the brightest imaginings of
a Reynolds or a Raphael. It is not the costliness of a thing
that gives it value. In our oiferings to God, this may be
true as an expression of our appreciation of his excellence ;
and then the alabaster box is fit and full of meaning. But
beauty and excellence God himself hath created in wonderful
profusion. To me it is a matter of joy, when, from the works
of man, new sources of pleasure in the contemplation of actual
or ideal excellence are opened up, not merely to the few who
have wealth to lavish, but to the multitude who toil with
mind or body for their daily bread. And I doubt not that
the time is coming when in the advance of physical science a
point will be reached where science and art will join their
forces, and united give to the world — not to kings and princes
— not to palaces and wealth — but to the world, to the peas-
ant and the cottage — to the farmer returning from his plow
and the artisan from his toil, as beauteous forms of ideal ex-
cellence as the world has ever seen, purified from the grossness
which has too often disgraced the works of genius and made
them a synonym for corruption of manners and the fall of States.
We trust the time is coming when we shall have original arch-
itects ; when men shall not imagine architecture too perfect
to be improved, and invention shall not stand at the present
limit, afraid to cross it, and genius can do nothing but copy
the " stones of Venice," and remodel the crumbling Parthenon.
There is a field for an original genius, for the Wrens and An-
gelos of the future, yet unoccupied. Egypt can build us gloomy
jails and penitentiaries — Greece can fashion banks and ex-
changes— Arabia light and graceful summer palaces — Ger-
many tuiTcted state houses and somber mass houses. But
where is that Christian architecture, which, in all its aiTange-
ments, befits the proclamations of the gospel and the simple

252 LITERAKY ADDRESSES.

worship of a primitive Christianity ? a style of architecture
in which within, columns to obstruct the sight and intricate
arches to scatter sound, are absent ; while without, there shall
be an expression all in harmony with our simple yet sublime
faith, and a fit temple to be associated with the solemn and
joyous worship of Jehovah ? We doubt not such architects
will yet rise, whose works will differ as much from those old
forms of building as they differ from each other ; who will
give us a truly Protestant architecture ; who will symbolize
our faith in a style at once grand, simjjle, beautiful, adapted
to our worship and destined to endure and act as an educating
influence for multitudes unborn.

There is one subject in respect to which the connection of
natural science is so broad and so influential for good or evil,
that it would be unpardonable to omit the consideration of it
in the discussion of such a theme. The connection of natural
science with natural theology and the written Revelation is
daily rising in seeming importance, and demands of us a cool
and accurate determination. In speaking on it, you will allow
me not a poetic but a j)rofessional license both in the mode
and limits of the discussion. For natural theology is the final
end of all these sciences. They are but the roots, this the
lofty tree. Each science is composed first of facts ; then of
the laws and relations of those facts to each other, or the
metaphysics of that science. Then above these there are laws
common to several or all these dejiartments of knowledge,
which constitute a still higher system of metaphysics ; and
these again hold a direct relation to the final cause of all.
The more general divisions of natural science are great roots
of a noble tree — each of which, while it has a distinct system
of roots of its own, at length unites and forms the trunk
which bears the wide-spread tree. Natural theology is the
tree which springs from natural science as its root. The
creation which natural science investigates and analyzes, exists
prior to revealed religion. The world was made and then
man to inhabit it. The house was made, its massive foun-
dations laid, its goodly superstructure uplifted, and all its

NATUKAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 253

wonderful adornments fashioned, ere man was created as its
tenant. " Where wast thou, when I laid the foundations of
the earth ? declare if thou hast understanding. Who hath
laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest ? or who hath
stretched the line upon it ? Whereupon are the foundations
thereof fastened ? or who laid the corner-stone thereof, when
the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God
shouted for joy ?" When man was fashioned, the work of
creation was accomplished ; he stood upon the greensward of
a blooming creation, and gazed forth upon ten thousand ob-
jects of natural beauty and grandeur. He did not see them
come into existence ; they antedated his being ; the wondrous
facts of natural science were beneath, around and above him,
the first walk he took in his new domain. The hosts of
heaven wheeled as now in silent, mazy, burning march above
his head ; the trees hfted their tops heavenward, and flowers
bloomed and fruits bluslied into ripeness, while field and
grove and watercourse were animated with the busy life of a
teeming population. Now out of this thought of the priority
of the natural to the written revelation of the Infinite, there
gi'ows another, that natural science as the basis of natural
theology should precede or accompany the fuller and more
distinct revelation in human language — that the physical
world is essential to the full establishment and unfolding of
the idea of God in the mind of man. I mean not to deny
that the All-powerful can manifest himself by a direct inward
inspiration, independently of his works. I will not speculate
upon the possible or the impossible in respect to him whose
infinite resources are probably known to us only in their
lowest degree. Nor is it necessary to consider the influences
now existing within the human heart adverse to the reception
of his knowledge, even when it is the compound heat and
light of both natural and revealed religion. But considering
man simply as he was originally and is now in his best estate,
a being of exceedingly limited faculties, it seems necessary
that he should have something more than mere assertion^
although that were made by the voice of the Creator himself,

254 L.I T E R A R T ADDRESSES.

to preserve and develop within him suitable conceptions of
the infinite Lord. The physical world is the stable mani-
festation of certain attributes of that Being, addressing the
senses, irresistibly laying hold of the understanding, and
where there is no counteracting force, adapted at once to
suggest the noblest ideas of God and impress them indelibly
upon the soul. It is the body in which the thoughts and
mental operations of the Invisible clothe themselves, in order
to become visible to the eye and cognizable as elements of
reasoning by the mind of man ; it is a medium of manifesta-
tion between the divine and human, through which the former
reveals himself, in ways not only wonderfully varied, but
adapted to create in the soul a permanent abode for the grand
and awful idea of a creating and sovereign Spirit. To under-
stand this more fully — to see how important a place these
natural evidences of the existence and attributes of God hold
as a foundation even for the written revelation, you have only
to imagine this globe denuded of all that which constitutes
its glory. Let the verdure, the flowers, the trees, the fount-
ains disappear ; let the giant rocks and the open strata and
the vast system of crystallization which has ribbed the earth
in stone, be concealed ; let neither the beauty nor the melody
of the brute creation meet his eye or fall uj^on his ear, while
its admirable adaptation to promote the good of man and
evince the wisdom of the Creator is hidden from his view ; let
the heaven above him no longer hang out its myriad lamps at
night and glow with noontide brilliancy ; let the clouds no
more condense the rain-dr(~>ps and reflect in images of celestial
beauty the glories of the setting sun ; let man stand alone,
ignorant of his own structure, maintained by direct power
from above through no agency of second causes ; let him see
around him only a dull, fashionless clod, and above him only
a canopy of equally dull and formless cloud ; let him witness
no evidences of divine wisdom in the creation above and be-
neath him, aud examine no specimens of the divine handi-
work, such as will carry with them an irresistible demonstra-
tion of the high atfril)utes of Jehovah ; and then how lono^

NATUKAL SCIENCE IN i'tS RELATIONS, ETC. 255

Avoukl it be before lie gained any correct idea of iiis Creator,
or having gained it, how long would it be before it faded
from his soul ? In what condition would he be to receive a
spoken or a written revelation, when as yet there have never
been presented to his senses the natural evidences of any of
the high attributes of the Infinite ? Nay, is it not true that
it is among the works of natural science that the mind first
and most constantly finds the stimulus for exercise ; that here
it learns to reason and generalize and ascend from effects to
causes — from the seen to the unseen — from the known to the
unknown — from that which is cognizable in part to that
greater part which lies hidden from view ? Is it not true,
that at the very outset of its career the mind quickens and
expands as it comes in healthful contact with the facts of
natural science ; and that through long years of intellectual
toil it acquires the power to grasp in part the immense con-
ception of a God ? Without this discipline, without these
works having already wrought into it certain great and fixed
ideas ; or without the presence of that which is visible and
known to furnish a foundation for the invisible and unknown,
how would direct assertions, though made in the clearest lan-
guage, convey suitable ideas of God, or how could God dem-
onstrate his being to man ?

But change this scene, transfer the solitary man from that
dull globe and those meaningless clouds to our living, echoing
universe, wdth its stars and brilliant skies and laboratory of
rain drops ; with its animated creation, its verdant life, its
pleasant fountains, its evidences of loveliness and wisdom
multiplied as the seconds of time — reaching down into the
earth far as man can sink his shaft, stretching away into the
heavens far as the telescope can penetrate ; bring him into
such a wurld as this, where the attributes of God look out
upon him from every object on which his eye can rest or his
reason study ; where the most impressive demonstrations of
what God is, from what he has done, encompafis him round
and force themselves upon his attention, and if his heart is
only right, will there not be a preparation, a power of influ-

256 LITERARY 'ADDRESSES.

ence mighty to create the noblest ideas of God, and fill him
with the j)rofoimdest reverence ? Can he look out upon the
ocean sleeping in calmness, or uplifting the thunder of its
surges, without grasj)ing the idea of boundless power ? Can
he study the mechanism of the heavens and the earth without
receiving the most affecting conceptions of infinite wisdom ?
Can he look upon the images of beauty that everywhere adorn
the face of nature, without attaining a vivid idea of the love-
liness and glory of him who threw into such forms so large a
part of his creation ? And when he has compassed these
demonstrations of the natural, will his mind here arrest its
progress, and at the very threshold of the moral will he cease-
to reason ? Or, will he not enter the inner temple and seek
to know the truth, the benevolence, the justice and the holi-
ness— the moral sovereignty of the great "/ am^

Now, with such a foundation to rest upon, with such a
demonstration to work with and prepare the way ; with such
convictions already wrought into the mind and incorporated
with all its habits of thought ; with such a universe of testi-
mony to appeal to — testimony that can not lie and that can
not be resisted without a desperate purpose, men are prepared
for a higher revelation, for a step in advance of all the teach-
ings of merely natural science, and the means are furnished
for the ready communication of such a jDrofonnd revelation,
and the impressive manifestation of it to the soul. Thus it
is true that physical science the farther it extends its re-
searches, the more perfectly it analyzes and compares, and
combines and unfolds the real structure of the universe, is
but uncovering the broad foundations on which the wiitten
revelation may sublimely repose.

But while this is the general relation of natural science to
natural theology, yet there is another special and vastly im-
portant relation which the progress of physical science sus-
tains to revelation. For it is in part on the physical world
that this revelation is made to rest for the demonstration of
its original ; it is by means of this natural science and its
triumphs that one portion of the evidence of inspiration is

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 257

tested, and the superiority of that evidence demonstrated over
all fiilse theogonies. What are miracles but the voice of the
Creator sjjeaking through physical laws of his own creation,
and attesting the inspiration of prophet and ajwstle ? What
are they hut the attestation of God given to an express rev-
elation in the same way as his works attest his natural char-
acter ? Gravitation and mobility are attributes and laws
of fluids which evince the being and wisdom of Jehovah; and
when he comes forth and reverses or suspends those laws, and
channels a pathway for vast armies through the depths of the
sea, piling up the waters in firm walls on either side the hu-
man host, what is that but the Almighty, through a physical
element, by the suspension of its ordinary laws, demonstrat-
ing his presence, as he did originally when he set the waters
flowing, and made it their nature to seek the lowest level ?
Disease and death are results of the operations of laws
which he has created and maintained, and as such they de-
clare his almightiness ; but when to attest the inspirations
of prophet and apostle, disease instantly vanishes and death
gives up its prey, and for the time a new set of laws super-
sedes the old, is not this the use of the physical creation to
demonstrate the divinity of the spoken and written word ?
It is the fact that natural science has just such a voice, and
can have no other in these cases ; that all its researches have
only established the fact that water is mobile and flows to the
center, that death is the total absence of life, and it is no more
within the reach of human power to restore the vital element,
to spread the flush of health and infuse the vigor of life into
the cold corpse, than to create a world ; it is the fact that
such ever has been and ever will be the testimony of natural
science, that gives such demonstration to miracles, and lifts
them above all the jugglery of magicians and all the delusions
and trickery with which superstition seeks to impose upon the
credulity of ignorance, and impresses upon them a universal
and permanent truthfulness, the same yesterday, to-day and
for ever. For if the time should ever arrive when in the prog-
ress of science the secret should be discovered of dividing the

17

258 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

ocean with a rod, or multiplying bread with a word, or re-
storing the dead to life, then would this branch of the evi-
dences of inspiration fall to the ground, and these miracles
would only prove the greater knowledge and skillfulness of
those who wrought them. But if, on the other hand, they
baffle all the research of wise men, and amidst the triumphs
of science, in all other directions, remain as impossible to un-
aided human power as on the day they were wrought, then
does that science, by the confession of its impotence, attest
their divinity.

Having thus stated on the one side the connection revela-
tion holds with natural science, it is but just to add that in
another view Christianity is itself a science, an independent
science as truly as geology or chemistry or astronomy. It has
its own facts and its own laws digested into a regular system.
It has its threefold foundation of miracles, prophecy and in-
ternal character. Each of these proofs of inspiration is com-
plete in itself, and when combined, they form a demonstration
as logical and substantial and immovable as that furnished
by any other science whatever. Taking our stand on these,
we rest with as firm an assurance as can possess the human
mind in respect to any existence. The stars in their courses
may seem to fight against us ; the earth may seem to bring
forth her long-concealed testimony against that we hold to be
truth ;. the entire field of natural science may seem to bristle
with demonstrations against this higher science, yet neither
the stars, nor the earth, can furnish a demonstration against,
at all comparable with that which already exists in favor of,
Christianity. There may be those who regard this sj)irit that
is abroad, and these physical pursuits, as inimical to the estab-
lishment of a firm faith, as tending to the overthrow of our
assurance. But such souls have never studied this higher
revelation as the very perfection and flower of all the sciences,
rising among them and above them, sublime and eternal. To
change the figure, it is not an arch of wood that shakes be-
neath the burdens it must bear, that decays with age, and
demands with each successive cycle a new recruit of props and

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 259

timbers to supply the waste of time. It is rather an arch of
living stones, compacted by the onward march of ages, chal-
lenging the earthquake to upheave and the universe to destroy.
I saw the man of science dash his ax against the wooden
props and supports which the fearful friends of truth had
reared beneath it ; I saw them fall, one by one, while at each
successive overthrow the hearts of the tremblers grew faint,
and the triumphant shout of the opposers rang through the
world. But when the dust of the conflict was settled, behold
the same goodly arch towering in its own naked grandeur,
self-supported, and more grandly revealed than before. And so
when natural science has been subsidized to give utterance to
a lying testimony, we can wait awhile until a new induction
has taken place and observation has a wider range, and the
facts assumed as the basis for a presumptuous hypothesis,
which hasty and ardent minds had woven into a theory, stand
forth in a new light, and the theory falls to the ground,
while the truth, biding its time, at length comes forth radi-
ant with a brighter splendor and circled with a more brilliant
crown.

I have said that Christian theology was a science, as truly
developed in all its parts, related and bound together in one
magnificent whole, as any of the other sciences — with this
great difference — this crown imperial upon its head, that it
stands nearest the eternal throne and reflects the intensest
brightness of the divine being, that it lifts the vail from the
future and opens the portals of hope to the sons of time, that
it visits earth not so much to weed out its briars and thorns
as to scatter the darkness of the soul, and enable the once
bowed spirit to stand erect and joyful amidst the sorrows of
this life, and bid it plume its pinions for a heavenward flight.
It is too often forgotten by the jn'ofessors of other sciences,
that this is a science the noblest of them all, and in some re-
spects the most difficult ; that it has its learned professors of
intellect as profound and sublime as any the world has known ;
that it has its volumes of learned investigation, its transactions
philological, historical, and ethical, its inward development

260 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

in the growth of a living faith unfolded in works of Christian
biography, its outward defenses built up from the solid rock
of unchanging truth so high that no adventurous arrow of
the assailant can scale its battlements — so strong that no
huge battering ram, however powerful the hand that wields
it, has ever succeeded in starting a single stone. It has been
too common for men to forget this fact, and as a consequence,
in the language of an eloquent defender of our faith. Christian
theology has been considered " a common hunting ground ;"
on which not only empirics and literary mountebanks, phre-
nologizers and mesmerizers, the personal caricatures of sci-
ence, but also men of real power and genius and learning in
their respective fields of inquiry, have felt at liberty to pursue
their prey with as much coolness as if they had been at home
in the wide enclosure for centuries. It is indeed a confessed
truth in this country that every man is born a politician, and
from a child upwards rightfully assumes the prerogative to
pronounce upon the profoundest affairs of State and call his
grandfather an ignoramus. But we deny that men are born
theologians, or that the study of every thing but theology
necessarily qualifies a man to judge of such a vast and com-
plicate system. It is a mystery to us how the study of stars,
or rock strata, or fossil fish, will enable a man to interpret
Hebrew and Greek. Undoubtedly all science hath relations
of amity and support to theology ; and if these relations be
duly considered and rigidly followed, they will conduct the
student to a point where reverently he will wait for the higher
revelation of the science nearest the throne. Yet doth every
science require and form peculiar habits of observation and
special kinds of learning, that may not be so favorable to
the investigation of other sciences. The mathematician has
his mode of demonstration, and the jurist his, and the chemist
his, and the theologian his, and the classical scholar his. And
each of these may be most admirable for their own kind of
work, yet by no means the best for another field of inquiry.
It is not usual even in particular sciences or professions to
look for universal perfection, or adaptation of mind to all its

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 261

parts. The ablest special pleaders at the bar ; the acutest
controversialists in divinity, have not always been the finest
lawyers or the most comprehensive theologians, since the mind
tm-ned intensely in one direction, to differences and words,
does not so readily grasp the resemblances and fathom the
profounder principles which underlie both law and theology.
Still more strikingly is this true in different sciences, where
in the mode of investigation there is little if any resemblance.
I would not, in these remarks, be understood as intimating a
desire that you, gentlemen of science, should conduct your in-
vestigations trammeled by any necessity of seeking to har-
monize the facts you may discover with this highest of all the
sciences. Bring forth your facts, but be sure th'Cy are facts ;
form your theories, but be sure they have a Just foundation ;
2)ush your investigations into the heavens above and the earth
beneath ; and fear not that it is possible, though you study
from this hour to the conflagration, though you should pene-
trate to the center of the globe and ascend to the central pal-
ace of the universe, you should ever discover a stone or a
shrub, a comet or a sun, that will not at length, when you
find its real place and true position, lift up its voice with all
nature and providence in a chorus of praise to him who re-
deemed the world. Let the past teach you ; let the surgings
of science backwards and forwards, now threatening to engulf
Christianity and now retiring in calmness, teach you. Let
this gi'and fact, tliat the march of science has gathered its
trophies and laid them all at the Redeemer's feet, admonish
you that, however glorious may be your discoveries, there is
a science filled with an intenser light, springing forth from
the heart of the Creator, that like Mount Blanc, grows taller,
lifts itself nearer the skies, sparkles with a more glorious ra-
diance, is crowned with a grander sublimity, the higher you
ascend the tops of the mountains that cluster round its base.
There is abroad among many minds an impression that
this devotion to physical science and art is apt to generate a
physical spirit — that the occupation of the mind with material
things tends to materialize the opinions and destroy faith in

262 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

the unseen and the spiritual. The names of La Place and La
Grange, and others of kindred nature, are made to bear up the
burden of this weighty charge against the study of the works of
the All-wise. We take it as an admitted i^rinciple in this dis-
cussion, that there is in man naturally a heart of unbelief by
which the most amazing manifestations of the divine may be
colored, obscured, and resisted. But this fact bears with equal
etrength against all sciences, whatever be their nature — yea,
even against the right understanding of the sublimest of all
revelations. If there be any thing peculiarly destructive of
faith in these physical studies, it must be due to one of two
causes. It must arise on the one side from the occupation of
the senses to such an extent as to forbid the exercise of rea-
son— from the absorption of the man in the outward and the
tangible to so great degree as to prevent the full development
of the higher powers of the understanding and dull his soul
to the perception of the spiritual and unseen. But this is
directly in the face of all science — which is an ascent into the
region of systems and laws and forces inferred to exist from
the known facts — this is downright barbarism, and is totally
destructive not only of faith but of mind in all its nobler
actings. Or on the other hand this tendency to materialism
must arise from apparently a directly opposite, but substan-
tially the same cause as that just mentioned. If in these in-
vestigations the man of science carries his discoveries so far as
actually to see through all nature — if instead of finding
mystery within mystery, and the power of life and order
eluding the most thorough resolution of all known phenom-
ena, he penetrates the mystery, lays hold of and drags forth
to light the plastic power which arranges and vivifies all the
material world, why then indeed it may be true — then indeed
it would be true that natural science, prosecuted to its farth-
erest limits, would materialize his views, and destroy all faith
in an invisible power of infinite wisdom, the mighty maker
of all things. But if the longer man stretches his line the
deeper this awful ocean of life becomes ; if the farther his
telescope penetrates the heavens, and his microscope the earth,

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 263

the more entirely are all his speculations distanced by the
magnificence and wisdom of the scene ; if the more searching
his analysis into principles and second causes, he utterly fails
to see through them — he always finds back of all his re-
searches a mysterious power which it is utterly impossible for
him to grasp or comprehend ; if he finds that there is a limit
to his knowledge, not from the shalloAvness of the subjects,
but from the nature of his own mental faculties, and that the
smallest flower that springs up at his feet hath that within it
which eludes the most intense vision of the most vigorous in-
tellect ; if he sees this to be true, not in one or two instances,
but in every instance, that there is a plastic power which as-
cends from stones to stars, and pervades all creation in its
wondrous subtlety and influence, then he is obliged to helievt
— then he is brought face to face with an infinite being, whom
by searching it is impossible to find out unto perfection : and
so the tendency — the uncounteracted force of these material
studies is to bear him onward to a sublime faith in the eter-
nal Creator, and j^repare his mind for the recej)tion of whatever
further light he may see fit to shed upon his soul. Thus the
" unlocking of the gates of sense" is made ultimately to un-
lock the gates of the spirit to the entrance of the grandest
views of the infinite Lord. The march of this science, other
things being equal, will be the triumph of a lofty and intelli-
gent faith — a faith, stripped of the rags of superstition and
distorted views of truth, in its own celestial beauty hastening
to attract the world around the cross of Christ.

Nor is it true, in fact, that the broad stream of unbelief
has to any great extent been fed from this fountain. Who
have been the famous patriarchs of infidelity, the grand mas-
ters in this temple of nightshade ? Were they Copernicup
and Galileo, the Bacons and Keplers and Newtons, and a host
of such bright names ; the naturalists to whom all eyes at
once turn with reverence, whose amazing toils created a new
world of science, and gave an upward impulse to the human
mind, and set in motion that train of causes whose results
are our daily wonder and thanksgiving ? Or were they not

264 LITEBARY ADDRESSES.

such men as Bolingbroke and Hume and Gibbon and Voltaire
and Paine, the si^eculators, the moral and j^olitical philoso-
phers ; men who set reason above facts, or made the foots
bend to their logic ? And in these latter days, whence sprang
that mystic rationalism which spirits away Christianity in a
fog of doubts, of myths and fables, and degrades the chief
revelation of the Infinite to a level with the Iliad of Homer
and the theogony of Hesiod ? Came it from Davy and Her-
schel and Cuvier and Humboldt, the grandest naturalists of
their day ? or came it not from the brains of a Kant, a
Hegel, a Strauss, and others of like character, the men who
spin their theories not out of the heavens and the earth, but
out of their own benighted intellects ? What form of infi-
delity at this day is most rampant, insinuating, plastic and
intractable ? Comes it from natural philosophy, or astron-
omy, or the yet infant geology ? or comes it not from a false
philology which misinterprets Scripture, and a false philoso-
phy wliich misinterprets life and its great ends ? Natural
science has this advantage, that fact meets fact, the hypothe-
sis of to-day has to encounter the new revelations of to-
morrow ; and liowever plausible the theory, if false, it can
stand but a little while amidst the keen research of so many
minds bent upon observation and eager to search out the new
and the true. But men may argue on other questions, and
words may take the place of arguments, and ingenuity triumph
long over the simple truth. Amidst the uncertainties of lan-
guage and the intangible nature of abstract ideas, sophistry
has always found room to build labyrinths more intricate
tlian that of Crete, in which the strong and the bold have
been incarcerated, and from which no Ariadne has furnished
a clue to escape. Bewildered amidst the intricacies of abstract
reasoning, and reaching, by the terms of logic, conclusions that
the instinctive nature of man proclaims folse and absurd, they
have often brought the very name of metaphysics into con-
tempt, and involved all enquiries into the abstract relations
of things in their own disgrace. But in natural science, al-
though there may be the same readiness to adopt unwarranted

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 265

conclusions, and the same impatience of protracted investiga-
tion, and the same imwillingness to wait the gathering to-
gether of the requisite materials for the establishment of a
sound theory, yet there is not the same room for the play of
the imagination and the freedom of speculation ; and if there
were, there is a way of meeting idle conjecture by bringing
forth the results of a farther observation — of overturning a
false hypothesis by the testimony of tangible and stubborn
facts, far superior to that which, on the field of metaphysics,
the advocate of truth must pursue to overtake and expose the
advocate of error. While then we admit that in such pur-
suits the human mind, bearing about with it the common in-
firmities of our nature, may stray into the dark regions of
error ; while we admit that minds undisciplined by the exer-
cise of faith in the higher mysteries of Christian truth, may
even seek to array nature against revelation and wield the
forces and facts of a material creation to obscure and obliter-
ate the powers and truths of a spiritual creation, yet we do
not admit that this is due to the nature of the pursuit or the
tendency of physical science — that there is any thing in the
study of the material creation specially adapted to destroy our
faith in the unseen or hostile to the Christian revelation.
Science falsely called, sciolism and sciolists, the froth and
■ scum of the age, are often found thus waging war with that
truth whose foundations they have never reached, and on whose
sunlit summits their eyes have never gazed. But true science
hath in itself a native sympathy with all the truth of God,
and gently draws the wayward heart it has led captive towards
the richer manifestation of Ms being and attributes, his word
and works, in whom all knowledge finds its center and
widest circumference. And as natural science shall advance
in its conquests, and rise to a fuller comprehension of the
globe we inhabit and the universe of which it forms so small
a part, its every step will bring us nearer the mighty source
of being, and into nearer relations to the written revelation,
until to study creation will be to study the plainest demon-
strations of the truth and inspiration of that sublime word.

266 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

in which the unseen world, and all the future life, and all the
amazing mysteries of Kedemption are so clearly unfolded —
until the ivorks of God shall everywhere be found so to bear
up His loords, that the former shall be seen to be the deep
and broad foundation on which the latter repose. In these
rapid advances of physical investigation, and these noble tri-
umphs which every month and year herald to the world, we
behold the growth of a mighty ally of Eevelation. These
facts, which Unbelief would wrest to the overthrow of her
sovereignty, will array themselves in legions, compact and
disciplined, on her side. The new power that is bringing into
neighborhood the antipodes, and spreading the influence of
Christian nations round the world, is preparing the way for
the triumphant march of a Prince whose vesture is the stars,
whose chariot the clouds, whose crown is the sun, whose
sword is truth sublime and eternal, and whose voice is the
sound of many waters.

Young gentlemen of the Miami Union Literary So-
ciety, I can not close these imperfect remarks on the rela-
tions of natural science to other sciences and pursuits, with-
out an allusion to him whose name, often mentioned on these
occasions, never fails to awaken fresh enthusiasm ; the broad-
minded, clear-sighted, independent spirit, far in the advance
of his own age ; the boy who, at fifteen, left Cambridge in
disgust at the suppression of all free inquiry at the sources
of truth, and the uniform idolatry of precedents and an-
tiquity.

" The great deliverer he I who from the gloom
Of cloistered monks and jargon-teaching schools,
Led forth the true philosophy — here long
Held in the magic chain of words and forms,
And definitions void ; he led her forth,
Daughter of heaven I — that slow ascending, still
Investigating sure the chain of things.
With radiant finger points to heaven again."

Bacon, as we look back upon him, resembles an oak,
springing beneath the roof and within the walls of a con-

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 267

servatory, till at length the vigorous branches upheave the
roof and rend the walls, and the gigantic tree stands forth
uncovered to the blessed sun and the free winds of heaven, at
liberty to grow as the great Creator made the forest king to
grow, and teach the world a lesson of liberty for the immortal
mind. I stay not to describe at length a character, better
described a thousand times before ; I stay not even to lay my
tribute of gratitude at his feet, for that he hath already, and
from every shore go pilgrims yearly, and will till time shall
end, to wreath that thoughtful statue which surmounts his
grave with bays ever green and ever fresh, the offerings of
thankful souls. It is to one trait in his character that I wish
to direct your attention and solicit your imitation. No man
felt more deeply the deceitfulness of the heart, its liability to
err, and the danger of that pride of science which blinds the
mind to the richest truths of heaven. Study his Novum
Organum — analyze his idols of the tribe — the den — the mar-
ket— the theater ; and behold the true humility of the plii-
losopher, conscious of human weakness and deeply sensible of
his own. Hear him say — " We, for our part at least, over-
come by the eternal love of truth, have committed ourselves
to uncertain, steep, and desert tracks, and trusting and rely-
ing on divine assistance, have borne up our mind against the
violence of opinions, drawn up as it were in battle array,
against our own internal doubts and scruples, against the mists
and clouds of nature, and against fancies flitting on all sides
around us ; that we might at length collect some more trust-
worthy and certain indications for the living and posterity."
Listen to his prayer as a student — " To Grod the Father, Grod
the Word, God the Spirit, we put forth most humble and
hearty supplications, that human things may not prejudice
such as are divine; neither that, from the unlocking of the
gates of sense, and the kindling of a greater natural light,
any thing of incredulity or intellectual night may arise in our
minds toward divine mysteries." Study nature thus, let
the consciousness of weakness and the adverse forces around
you, and the necessary limitations of knowledge lead you

268 LITERARY ADDRESSES.

ever to give utterance to such, petitions and exercise such a
spirit.

These scenes, this place, these societies, all bring before my
mind one who here studied, who ripened from boyhood to a
resplendent manhood in these halls, whose mind gained its
finish and discipline in the exercise of these societies, whose
character was molded into a lofty integiity under the instruc-
tions given in yonder edifice ; one voice, that has often pealed
forth its eloquent music and fervid declamation in this place,
is heard here no more ; one heart, whose interest in this in-
stitution never diminished, beats no more ; one mind that
aided in the direction and oversight of this his Alma Mater,
is absent from her council ; one eye that yearly looked forth
in calm brilliancy upon these scenes, is closed for ever. Twice
have these fields and trees adorned themselves with their
summer robes since Charles Telford ceased from earth. Yet
here lives his memory in many hearts ; and in yon Queen
City, where the college youth ascended to the level of the
loftiest minds, there lives a deeper memory of an integrity
that never swerved from its high purpose — a character that
shed luster upon his noble profession — a faith in the truth of
Christ that abode and grew stronger till the hour of his de-
parture. Cut down in the dawn of a most splendid day —
denied on earth that most brilliant career which seemed open-
ing upon him, he has left behind that which will endure
when the triumphs of his intellect are all forgotten — the stern
integrity and unfaltering faith of one whose vision took in the
grandeur, and whose heart reposed upon the consoling truths
of the Christian scheme. Let that faith be yours ; let that
integrity constitute your crown ; let your intellectual tri-
umphs be adorned by such an unwavering trust in the unseen
Jehovah, and you will not only shed luster on your society
and this institution, refine and ennoble your species, and live
in the memories of earth, but when the science of this world
shall be unable to sustain you amid the gathering shades of
the night of the grave, a light from the skies shall illumine
your spirit and reveal the open portals of a better world.

NATURAL SCIENCE IN ITS RELATIONS, ETC. 269

To-day, too, your eyes have looked upon the form, and
your ears have heard the voice, of one whose life and vigor
have been devoted to the cause of Christian science in this
western world — who long presided with great honor over this
institution, and sent forth from its walls many who now stand
in posts of influence and usefulness throughout the land —
whose grQen old age is still consecrated to the same sublime
ends — to whom generations shall look back with gratitude
and affection as a master-builder in laying the foundations of
that vast temple of science, which, rising in this, our free
land, shall yet tower above all the Orient and look out be-
nignantly upon the broad Pacific. Need I name him, " da-
rum et vener^abile nomen V *

" Serus in caelum redeas, diuque
Lceius inter sis" nobis.

* Rev. Dr. Bishop.

HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

I

IX.

JOHN CALVIN.*

It is singular that, looking through the innumerable vol-
umes of biography which have issued from the British and
American press, we can not find a life of " the Theologian"
of the Reformation, at once full, just, and adapted to the
popular mind. The life by Beza, prefixed to Calvin's works,
although eminently just and appreciative, is yet entirely too
brief to satisfy the inquu'ies which naturally suggest them-
selves respecting such a man. He wrote also as a cotemporary,
when much was known of Calvin's private and pul)lic life,
which he might not regard as of special importance, but
which now would be of intense interest, as tending to throw
light both upon the Eeformer's character and the progress of
the Reformation. As a cotemporary, Beza was not in a posi-
tion to 'vsTite such a biography as this age demands. He must
write, if he write at all, in the spirit of those times, and in
harmony with the current feelings of his generation. He could
not well foresee the change which, on some questions, would
be effected in three centuries. He could not jmt himself for-
ward, amidst the altered opinions and feelings of the Protest-
ant world at this day, and adjust his view of the Reformer to
meet our wants. But his work is preeminently valuable as a
record of the impressions made by Calvin upon one who knew
him intimately — one who, by his deep learning and varied
talents, was capable of justly appreciating his intellect and
heart.

The great work of Dr. Paul Henry, published in its com-
plete form in 1844, begins a new era in respect to our knowl-

* From the Presbyterian Qtiarttrly for December. ISol^ and Juno, 1855
18

274 HISTOEICAL DISCOUKSES AND ESSAYS.

edge of the Keformer. It is the result of more than twenty
years' patient research into all the sources of information open
to the historian, on the Continent. He has combined the
various particulars of Calvin's Hfe with an analysis of his most
important works, and a general review of the period of the Kef-
in-mation. Dr. Henry has the rare advantage, in a biographer,
of being heartily in sympathy with his subject. He has pene-
trated beneath the less attractive exterior, into the inner spirit-
ual life and deep Christian experience, which more than all
things else enriches the writings of Calvin. He has formed a
clear and just idea of the peculiar intellectual power which dis-
tinguished the author of the " Institutes" and the volumes oi
commentary on the w^ord of Grod. Perhaps he is as impartial
as any man could be who had dwelt so long under the direct
influence of this mighty mind. To the theologian and the
scholar his work is invilluable as a mine of original materials
and genial criticism ; and, in this respect, it will never be
superseded. But, as a work for the reader and especially the
American reader, it has certain characteristics that will ma-
terially interfere with its usefulness, and greatly limit its cir-
culation. The division of the work is rather artificial than
natural, and necessitates a great deal of repetition and many
aj^parent anachi-onisms. He considers Calvin's life and char-
acter under three divisions ; the first of which embraces the
formation and development of his doctrinal views ; the sec-
ond, his system of discipline and his efforts to establish it ;
while the third describes his controversial labors in the defense
of Protestantism against the Papacy, and his own form of
Protestantism against errorists and schismatics. Now it so
happens, that while in Calvin's life these three di\asions have
an cqyparent, they have no real foundation. It is impossible
to carry out such a jjlan as this without constantly returning
to portions of the life already passed over. It is not like
traveling over the successive stages of the same road, but like
traversing in succession three parallel roads. Chronology is
set at defiance. Dates mix themselves up in singular confu-
sion. The men whom you saw hurry over the first road, you

JOHN CALVIN. 275

journey with again on the last. On this plan, it is next to
impossible to have a single full picture of the Keformer or a
connected view of his life.

Nor is this the natural development of the subject. In
the real life these several parts cohere as one whole. Dr. Mott
might just as well dissect a body in parallel sections as Dr.
Henry write a life in that form. Calvin began as a theolo-
gian, but his commentaries, his establishment of the Presby-
terian discipline and his manifold efforts in defense of the
faith, synchronized to a large extent with each other. Plis
efforts to establish Presbytery began with his first settlement
at Geneva. His controversial tracts date back to the exile at
Strasburg and the masterly letter to Sadolet. His commen-
taries occupied him all his life as a pastor ; and though there
were particular periods when he was more absorbed in one or
the other of these things, yet it is not possible to divide the
whole life by them, in regular chronological sequence.

This mode of writing destroys the charm of progress which
one feels in advancing through a biography. It fails to leave
upon the general reader any very distinct and single impres-
sion, and it is only possible for the scholar to attain a con-
nected view by the slow process of reconstructing the mate-
rials for himself It furnishes, indeed, a fine opportunity for
the introduction of dissertations and philosophical essays on
topics connected with th:,' Keformation. In this respect, Dr.
Henry has enriched his work with many profoundly suggest-
ive discussions. But this kind of writing is not exactly biog-
raj)hy, except as it rises naturally out of the life of the sub-
ject, and is designed to set that life forth more completely.
Even then, however, it is necessary rather to touch lightly
and briefly upon such points. We protest against the intro-
duction of long, abstruse and barren analyses of all the works
an author may have written, into the body of his biography.
It is amply sufficient to show the occasion and the general
manner of his work, and its relation to his own development
or that of his time. It is much better for the general readef
to have the minute and critical examinations of an author's

276 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

writings placed in a volume by themselves, as Orme has treated
the Life and Works of Baxter.

If to this artificial division, and the substitution of these
miscellaneous dissertations for lively and graphic narrative,
we add a style somewhat heavy and diffuse, we shall see clearly
enough the reason why this hfe of Calvin will not be able to
take rank with the living history of D'Aubigne as a work for
the popular mind. The latter writes history as if it were bi-
ography, and his work has all the interest which attaches to
the life of Johnson or Defoe ; while the former writes biogra-
phy as if it were philosophical history, and occupies a posi-
tion, in respect to j)opular interest, not unlike Hallam in his
historical essays. With all these subtractions, however, this
work will remain as one of the most original, comprehensive,
and noble contributions to the history of the great Reformer
and his times. For the scholar, it will continue to be the
most important aid in the formation of a just opinion of the
most hated and the most admired man of the sixteenth cen-
tury ; the man who, above all the mighty minds of that pe-
riod— rich though it was in great names beyond any equal
period of the past — gave form and systematic development to
Protestantism, and originated those republican theories which
are now spreading through the world.

The life of Calvin, by Dyer, written by an Englishman,
and published some years subsequent to the great work of
Henry, has the merit, wliich we have denied to the former, of
lively and graphic description. It has been characterized as a
mere compilation from Henry and others. But this does not
do it justice. There are some facts brought out in it that we
have seen nowhere else ; and the whole together fonns a con-
secutive biography, possessing much more unity and interest
as a popular work than that of the German. Instead, how-
ever, of being worthy of the subject, it is the rarest piece of
special pleading to sustain a foregone conclusion that we have
ever met with in court or out of it. He systematically exag-
gerates the failings and contracts the excellences of the Re-
former. He never rises to a broad and impartial view of his

JOHN CALVIN. 277

real position. He judges Calvin just emerging from Eoman-
ism, and with the shadows of the escaping darkness yet rest-
ing on the foot of the glorious mountain whose summit was
bathed in the rising sunlight, as if he lived and acted in this
day when the sun had reached the meridian. He exhibits an
astonishing ingenuity in the misinterpretation of garbled ex-
tracts of letters whose whole tenor and spirit lead us to a di-
rectly opposite conclusion. With remarkable tact and under
professions of the strictest impartiality, he so groups together
the testimony against, and so destroys by sly insinuations that
which is in favor of Calvin, as to distort the character he pro-
fesses to describe and blacken the man he pretends to admire.
A more thorough biographical pettifogger the annals of this
class of writing have yet to furnish. It is in perfect keejjing
for Beda, Duprat, and the inventors of popish legends, to ex-
ecrate the man who, more than all others, gave existence, form
and perpetuity to the Eeformed Church ; but it is passing
strange that a Protestant, in this nineteenth century, should
be found capable of writing a work wherein all that can be
brought to bear against him is set forth with dogmatic confi-
dence, while the excellencies that adorned or constituted his
real life are only glanced at sideways, or admitted reluctantly
with an over-cautious " may be."

We propose, in this article, to give a brief sketch of the
life of the Reformer, and hereafter to trace out his influence
upon the world, and compare his character with some of the
other great leaders of the Reformation. Once for all, we give
Dr. Henry credit for much that we shall say, which it has not
been convenient to note as his at the time of writing.

John Calvin was born at Noyon, in the north of France,
July 10, 1509, a little after the time that Luther, then twenty-
six years old, entered the university of Wittenberg, as Aris-
totelian professor. His father, Gerhard Calvin, the notary
apostolic and procurator fiscal of the county of Noyon, was
in high favor with the chief men of the province. He was
for a time educated at his father's expense in the family of
the Mommors, one of the most distinguished in that region.

278 HISTORICAL DISCOUKSES AND ESSAYS.

He early evinced a fondness for study and a freedom from
boyish excesses. His father destined him for tlie Church, and
had influence sufficient to procure for him, in March, 1521, a
vacant chaplaincy in the cathedral of his native town. Thus,
at twelve years of age, was our young Eeformer invested Avith
the clerical character. A week after his election " the child's
hair was solemnly cut by the bishoji," and by this act of "ton-
sure" he was made capable of entering the priesthood and
united with that mighty hierarchy, to oppose and overthrow
which the energies of his life were afterwards devoted. Here
he was not destined to stay. Two years after this event, while
the plague was raging at Noyon, his father procured of the
ecclesiastical authority permission to send him to Paris for the
prosecution of his studies.

The custom of appointing children to ecclesiastical offices
seems to us preposterous. The election of bishops four years
old, and the investiture of mere children with some of the
most important and lucrative offices in the gift of the Church,
infers an amount of corruption and a total want of a just es-
timate of the ministry, scarcely credible in a nominally Chris-
tian church. Yet with all this abuse and evil there was an
idea connected that has done much to give efficiency to Ro-
manism. It i& part of this system that whoever gives him-
self to its ministry, or is given by his parents, shall be cared
for, placed in a position where he may either serve the Church
at the time or be in 2->i"ocess of training for future service.
The child in the school, the convent or the college, whose
future life is to be devoted to the service of Roman Catholi-
cism, has all the resources and authority of the Church pledged
to sustain it. This watchful guardianship of a young priest-
hood, and this purpose to train men at her own expense for
all her ecclesiastical work, is significant of the energy and
success with which Rome moves forward. She not only has
her own schools and colleges, but she seizes upon the most
talented of her youth, and spares no pains to fit them for her
work. The men whom she counts upon for special labors are
not suffered to limit their education by the advantages of

JOHN CALVIN. 27!)

provincial institutions. They are sent to Rome itself, the
metropolis of that feith, there to enjoy the rarest literary
privileges under the most accomplished masters. Calvin owes
a part of his training to the Church he subsequently sought
to reform. And our Protestant churches will never reach tho
greatest efficiency until, as churches, they take in hand the
training of an evangelical ministry and secure to every ac-
ceptable candidate a fair support.

Calvin remained at Paris for more than four years, and
prosecuted his studies in Latin and philosophy, under the in-
struction, among others, of Maturnius Cordier, whose "Col-
loquies" are not yet wholly disused, and who subsequently
renounced papacy, and spent the closing years of his long
and useful life in Geneva, under the pastoral charge of his
pupil.

When eighteen years of age, Calvin received the living of
Marteville, "altogether against rule, for he was not yet in or-
ders, having received only the tonsure." Here and at Pont
I'Eveque, he preached several times. Up to this time he had
never been acquainted with a Bible. The period of his resi-
dence at Paris was one of the most stirring in the history of
Europe. Francis I., defeated at Pavia, was a captive. Charles
had besieged and taken Rome itself. The Reformation was
spreading in every direction throughout Europe. In Paris the
Sorbonne, with Beda at their head, had inaugurated the era
of martyrdom ; and in the Place de Gr^ve and the Close of
Notre Dame, the nameless "Hermit" and the young Pavenne
had already gone up in chariots of fire, the foremost of that
vast army of Christ's witnesses whose blood was to moisten
the soil of France.

Yet now, for the first time, is this young chaplain and
preacher made acquainted with that book which, in every true
Christian family, is the first a child is taught to read and the
last that is read when old age is about to close its eyes upon
this world. Romanism had shut up the Bible. It was not
lawful to read it in the family. It formed no part of the
training of the priesthood. It entered not at all into the life

280 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

of that church which professed to be the only church of
Christ. It was, most probably, the yet unpublished transla-
tion of Kobert Olivetan, a near relation, which first opened
the eyes of Calvin. He began to see the errors of Komanism.
He felt uneasy in his position as a pastor in connection with
a church oi)posed in so many respects to the word of God.
At this time his father changed his views in respect to his
son's course in hfe. He chose the law.

Calvin, not yet a true believer, but seeing Christian trath
as the blind men recovering their sight saw men as trees walk-
ing, readily acquiesced in this purpose. He went to Orleans,
where he studied for some time under the most famous juris-
consult in France, Pierre de TEtoile. Here, as at Paris, he
advanced with great rapidity until, in the occasional absence
of the professors, he was selected to lecture in their place.
From Orleans he went to Bourges, pursuing his studies under
Andre Alciat, becoming acquainted with Melchior Wolmar,
from whom he first learned Greek. Wolmar was himself
imbued with the great doctrines of the Keformation, and
contributed not a little to his pupil's establishment in the
faith.

While thus engaged in the study of civil law, Calvin did
not neglect sacred literature. The Bible became the subject
of most intense interest. The real nature of Christianity
gradually revealed itself to the ardent student. He had been
distinguished for the severity of his morals from early boy-
hood. Either his early training, or this, associated with the
marked predominance of the intellectual powers over the sen-
sual, enabled him early to resist the temptations of vicious
indulgence which surround a youth in a great city. Mean-
while he was yet a bigoted devotee of the Church. He was,
as he himself confesses, " obstinately fixed in popish super-
stition." He could look, with an approving eye, upon the
terrible auto da fe, by which the papacy sought to purge the
Church and the land of heretics. At length he begins to
study the word of God. At once he resigns chaplaincy and
benefice. He turns himself to the law as a refuge and a path

JOHN CALVIN. 281

in which ambition might win wealth and favor. At his ma-
jority he is pronounced, by no less a scholar than Scaliger, the
most learned man in Europe. Still he had not yet attained
peace. He attended to and trusted, in some degree, the cere-
monies of Romanism ; yet he declares, " that whenever he
descended into himself, or raised his heart to God, such ex-
treme horror surprised him that neither purifications nor satis-
factions could heal him. The more closely he examined him-
self, so much the sharper became the stings of conscience.
To such a degree was this the case, that neither solace nor
comfort existed for him, except in so far as he could deceive
or forget himself." At length he is brought suddenly to rest
in Christ. He is the subject of a rapid conversion. From
that time the law ceases to interest him. The Institutes of
Justinian yield to the glorious gospel. Stella and Alciat are
forsaken, while Paul, and John, and Isaiah, and all the blessed
comjDany of holy men, who wrote as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost, are thenceforth his teachers. Immediately he
began to preach in the villages around Bourges the gospel
that had entered his heart. The Reformation received a new
impulse from his labors. Men of all classes, whose minds
were troubled in respect to the great points then in dispute,
flocked to this young student for information, and gained new
views of the precious truths of Scrijiture. The death of his
father soon broke the last link that held him to the law. He
returned to Paris and openly identified himself with the dis-
graced and persecuted followers of Christ.

We have now reached the threshold of Calvin's public life.
Hitherto his course had been smooth and prosperous. A stu-
dent from his earliest years, he had enjoyed the finest social
and literary advantages that France could afford. It was not
his lot to struggle, as did Luther, against a depressing pov-
erty. He was born and educated in the bosom of that hap-
pier middle class from which the great majority of the ablest
and noblest of the world's benefactors have come. For, while
here and there a man like Bunyan and Wilberforce, repre-
senting in their ori";in the lowest and the highest stratum of

282 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

society, appears among the leaders of the moral movements
of the world ; yet these classes contribute far less to these
movements, in proportion to the numbers of the first and the
privileges of the second, than the third class, lying between
them. It is from those upon whom there rests neither the
depressing curse of deep poverty nor the enervating curse of
great riches ; who feel, indeed, the necessity of useful employ-
ment sufficient to quicken their energies, but who also cherish
the independence and the ambition inspired by the conscious-
ness that the paths of affluence, of distinction, or of healthful
competence open before them ; who may not attain education
without an effort, but who, nevertheless, have access, in some
degree, to literary privileges at an early period ; — from such
persons it is, in the main, that the profoundest thinkers and
the mighty actors in the world's history come forth. The sons
of destitution and of affluence, whose names shine brightly in
the past, are solitary stars ; while the sons of a healthful, yet
laborious competence, form constellations of glory in every
part of the firmament. It was this class that gave Melanc-
thon and Zuinglius, Bucer and Beza to the Keformation —
that gave Knox and Chalmers — Wesley and Whitefield —
Edwards and Dwight to the church of Christ. It was thus
happily that Calvin's powers were early developed. He was
a thinker and a student from childhood ; all his early asso-
ciations combined to ripen his powers for the great work,
which, at that period of the Reformation, it was necessary
should be done.

The change which took place in his father's views respect-
ing his profession, coinciding as it did with the change which
was secretly going on in his own soul, in regard to the purity
of the Romish church, is a mai-ked event in its influence up-
on the future life of the Reformer. It led him to abandon,
the barren speculations of the schoolmen, and apply himself
to the study of the civil law. It taught him to systematize,
to classify, to combine truth according to its nature and affin-
ities. It jirepared him to grasp the system of divine truth
which Grod had revealed in his word and set it forth in its

JOHN CALVIN. 283

naked simplicity for the apprehension of mankind. It was
another and very marked stage in the preparation of the great
Reformer for his special mission, as " the Theologian" of the
Reformation.

Calvin was now twenty-three years old. His conversion,
more quiet than Luther's, was genuine and thorough. At the
very beginning of his new-born soul, his zeal for all other
studies cooled, and he gave himself up chiefly to the study of
the word of life. He at once became the center of a deep and
wide interest — "but a year had passed over," he says, " when
all those who had any desire for pure learning came to me,
inexperienced recruit as I was, to gain information. I was
naturally bashful, and loved leisure and privacy ; hence I
sought the obscurest retirement ; but now every solitary place
became like a public school." His seal well represented the
character of his feelings. It had engraved on it a hand hold-
ing a burning heart, with the motto, "I give thee all ! I keep
back nothing for myself" He had not been long in Paris
before he abandoned his former studies, and gave himself
wholly to the ministry. He preached with great power to
private assemblies of the faithful, and closed every sermon
with that glorious annunciation : "If God be for us, who can
be against us ?" Amidst his devotion to his books, he was
unwearied in exhorting the multitude of disciples who filled
the prisons, and in consoling and confirming them by his letters.

It is of this man, at this period of his life. Dyer remarks,
that he aspired to be the head of the Reformed party in
France. This student, so shy and bashful that he had to be
sought out by the faithful, and afterward solicited by them
to preach the gosj^el, is charged with the silly ambition of de-
siring to be the chief of the Lutherans in his native land.
He had before him in the Roman church, as he declares in
his letter to Sadolet, the brightest prospects of preferment.
In the law, he stood already at the head of his profession in
legal attainments, and saw within his grasj), affluence, honor,
station, and power. He rejects them all the moment he re-
ceives Christ into his soul; and though retiring in his feelings

284 HISTOEICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

and studious in his habits, he yields to the solicitations of the
faithful, and enters at once upon the service of the gospel
If to lose all for Christ, and burn with a self-consuming
flame to see the religion of Jesus triumioh in France ; if to
expose himself to the perils of persecution and death in the
proclamation of the gospel ; if to renounce the fairest earthly
prospects, and receive in exchange contempt and poverty and
persecution ; if these things, and such as these, constitute a
just ground for the charge of ambition, then was Calvin am-
bitious.

His first essay as an author was made at this time (1532).
He published Seneca's treatise, De dementia, with a com-
mentary of his own, for the purpose of pointing out to
Francis I, the better way in which a wise king should rule.
Not long after he wrote a discourse, full of evangelical truth,
which Nicholas Cop, the newly-elected rector of the Sor-
bonne, delivered before one of the largest and most intelligent
assemblies in Paris, on one of the Catholic feast days. This
awoke anew the spirit of persecution. Cop escaped to Basle,
and Calvin fled into the south of France, where he was be-
friended by Margaret, the romantic Queen of Navarre, the
sister of Francis, and grandmother of Henry IV. A year
after he ventured back to Paris, and, at the hazard of his
life, offered to meet the heretical senators in a public dis-
cussion. In the next year (1534), after publishing his work
on the " Soul's Sleep," he left France and went to Basle.

This was a period of distress and darkness in France for
the Eeformed. "Jacob Lefevre, the instructor and friend of
Calvin, who prepared the way for him, by banishing the
scholastic pliilosophy, expounding Scripture, diffusing a
knowledge of languages, and creating a love for new ideas,"
was in exile at Strasbourg. Lambert, the Franciscan, had
gone to Wittenberg ; Brigonet, Bishop of Meaux, had been
humbled, and compelled to recant ; Farel and Koussel had
escaped into Switzerland; while Margaret, the Queen of Na-
varre, saw the bloodhounds of the Sorbonne approaching every
day nearer to her own residence. Francis I., exasperated by

►

JOHN CALVIN. 285

some placards against the mass, affixed to the doors of public
buildings in Paris, instituted a solemn lustration. The image
of St. Genevieve was carried round the city ; while the king
himself walked uncovered in the procession, accompanied by
his three children, carrying white tapers. No less than six
martyrs suffered in the flames during the procession.

Calvin was now in Basle. This city had already a uni-
versity, founded in 1459, and had become the favorite retreat
of learned men. Here Erasmus had taken up his abode and
received the great and the learned, who came hither to enjoy
his society or pay him then- homage. Simon Grynasus lec-
tured in the university on the Holy Scriptures and the old
classic writers with great success. Wolfgang Capito and
(Ecolampadius had already laid the foundation of the Ref-
ormation in this city.

Calvin's brief sojourn here of not more than two years,
constitutes an era in his history and in that of the Reforma-
tion. It was in this period he produced the first edition of
his " Institutes." He here wrote and published the work,
which at once gave him a name famous throughout Europe,
and placed him at the head of the Reformed church in France
and Switzerland. Calvin thus accounts for his writing it :
"When I was living obscure and unknown at Basle, and
when many pious men had been burned in France, and their
execution had inspired the Germans with deep hatred and
indignation, efforts were diligently made to quiet the feelings
thus excited. For this purpose false and wicked pamphlets
were circulated, and in these it was asserted that the Ana-
baptists only, men of unquiet spirit, whose fanaticism threat-
ened to destroy all social order, as well as religion, had been
the sufferers. When I saw this was a mere court artifice, in-
vented to conceal the shedding of the innocent blood of holy
martyi's, by the lying pretense that they who suffered were
utterly despicable ; and when I saw that, if this were not
contradicted, the persecutors would continue to rage and
massacre unchecked, I knew that my silence, or my not op-
posing myself with all my strength to their fury, would be

28G HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AXD ESSAYS.

treason to the cause of righteousness. This was the occasion
which led to the publication of the ' Institutes.' My first
object was to free my brethren, whose death is precious in the
sight of God, from a shameful slander; my last was, as many
more of our unhappy people were threatened with similar
cruelties, to excite at least some feeling of pity and com-
passion for their sufferings in other nations. I did not, how-
ever, at that time produce the large and laborious work which
is now before the public, but a mere sketch of the design."
Of this work we propose to say something in another article.
It is only necessary here to remark, that although this first
edition was " but a mere sketch of his design," yet its success
was immediate and immense. Five years before, the Con-
fession of Augsburg had been published. But, as yet, noth-
ing in the way of a systematic and full development of the
doctrines of the Reformation had been given to the world.
The Anabaptists at Munster and the Libertines had cast sus-
})icion upon the doctrines and tendencies of the Reformers. It
was necessary there should be written a work to which the
persecuted followers of Christ could appeal, as a just rep-
resentation of their faith. The man for this work had
now reached maturity. He had been trained in the ablest
academies, by the ablest teachers. His intellect, originally
sti'ong, quick, and comprehensive, had received all the devel-
opment which the science of that age could impart. The
man himself had been taught spiritually of Grod, and disci-
plined thoroughly in the school of trial. Immediately this
book is received with enthusiasm all over the Protestant world.
Not merely in Switzerland and France, but throughout Grer-
many, Holland, and Great Britain, it is hailed by the leaders
of the Elect Host as most opportune, clear, and satisfactory.
Paulus Thurius, a learned Hungarian, well expresses the feel-
ing of multitudes when he declared that, "since the writings
of the apostles, the ages had brought forth nothing equal to
it." ■•'■ The Sorbonne raged against it, and burnt every copy

* Prseter apostolicas post Christi tempora chartaa
Htiic peperere libro sascnla nulla parem.

I

JOHN CALVIN. 287

they could in any way lay tlieir hands upon. But it lived in
spite of them, and went forth on its great mission, establish-
ing the believers in England and Scotland, as well as on the
Continent. Thus, at twenty-six years of age, had Calvin
taken a position among the chief minds of that age, and ex-
hibited an intellect, a piety, and a power of execution, which
exalted him to the side of Melancthon and Luther.

It is remarkable, as an instance of the thoroughness with
which Calvin had thought out his opinions, at this early
period, that between the first and the far more elaborate last
edition of this great work, there is scarcely any variation in
the doctrines presented. The arrangement of the work is
entirely changed, new chapters are added, and the original
ones enlarged, but the great system which he early grasped,
as that which expressed the teachings of the word of Grod,
remains the same. Beza says : " The doctrine which he held
at first, he held to the last. He varied in nothing ; a thing
which can be said of very few theologians." This, perhaps,
is entirely too broad an assertion. But, so far as it expresses
the early maturity of his views on faith and Christian disci-
phne, and the wonderful tenacity with which he held to his
opinions, it is in the main true.

Early in the spring of 1536, Calvin left Basle and visited
Kenata, Duchess of Ferrara. In Italy the Eeformation had
commenced, and Ferrara was at this time its center. The
duchess, a daughter of Louis XII., and sister-in-law of Fran-
cis I., had become deeply imbued with the evangelical doc-
trines, and gathered around her a circle of kindred spirits.
Calvin, however, had scarcely reached Ferrara, before the
weak husband of the ducliess, in concert with the inquisitor
Oritz, expelled the Protestants from her court. Calvin, how-
ever, had time to become personally acquainted with her, and
to lay the. foundation of that influence which, by his corre-
sj)ondence, he continued to exert over her during his life.
Renata held fast to the cause of Christian truth, amidst the
temptations of a court, and the assaults of the Papacy.
After the death of her husband, she returned to France, and

288 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

there boldly professed the Protestant faith until the day of
her own de])arture.

Calvin now turned his steps back to France. But here
there was not a spot in which he could rest in peace. The
bloodhounds of the Inquisition were unleashed. He was a
man of rare mark ; a foe the Sorbonne would have exulted
to clutch. A thousand common opponents they would have
desj)ised. But Calvin was a host himself, whose life in
France, or out of it, was destined to be a terror to the ene-
mies, a quickening spirit to the friends of the Eeformation.
The Sorbonne and this man could not live together in the
same country. This youth of twenty-seven had in him ele-
ments of grace and power sufficient to shake the hierarchy to
the ground. Who can doubt what, with the divine blessing,
would have been the result, if Calvin had found in Francis
another Frederic of Saxony ? Who can doub't but that
France might have been saved her terrible baptisms of blood,
and, in the first rank of Protestant nations, have illustrated
a history glorious for the noblest forms of civilization and
Christianity ? But God had other lessons to teach the world
through France, and another destiny for Calvin. He saw
that for him there was no rest on his native soil ; he knew
that to stay there was just to offer himself up a victim, with-
out reason or necessity, to the rage of Beda and Morin. He
resolved to leave the land that thus cast hun out. " When
they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another." It was
not the fear of death, but the desire to proclaim Christ by his
life, that impelled him. Hastening to Noyon, he sold his
paternal estate, and with his brother Antony and sister
Maria, bid farewell for ever to the place of his birth. With
what sadness and tears did this noble heart pass into exile !
What pangs of suffering did it cost him to leave the land of
his fathers a prey to the man of sin ; her soil already wet
with the blood of Christ's witnesses ; her noblest and ablest
children thrust from her side, while she was entering upon
that dark career which, for three centuries, has made her the
reproach of Christendom, her history the saddest picture in

JOHN CALVIN, 289

the annals of the world. " I ara driven," says he, in a hasty
letter to a friend, " from the land of my birth ; every step
towards its boundaries costs me tears. Perhaps it is not per-
mitted truth to dwell in France ; so may it be perhaps with
me ; let her lot be mine." Take courage, noble heart ! thy
God is leading thee into a city of refuge, from which thy voice
shall sound out not merely over France, but the world !

It was Calvin's purpose to retire to Basle, and then to
Strasbourg, and occupy himself in general labors for the
Eeformed churches. But the war, in which Germany and
France were now engaged, had closed the road leading
directly to these points. He was compelled to pass into
Switzerland by a circuitous route, in consequence of which
he took Geneva in his way. He designed spending but a sin-
gle night in this city. Discovered by Farel, he was urged to
remain and preach the gospel there. Calvin " answered like
a young man," " that he would not bind himself to any one
church, but would endeavor to be useful to all, wheresoever
he might happen to be ; that otherwise no time would be left
him for his own imjirovement ; and that he was not one of
those who could afford to be always giving, without ever
receiving." Farel, as if inspired, answered with all the au-
thority of a prophet, " Now, I declare to you, in the name
of the Almighty God, to you who only put forth your studies
as a pretense, that if you will not help us to carry on this
work of God, the curse of God will rest upon you, for you
will be seeking your own honor rather than that of Christ."
Farel was a true prophet, and Calvin listened to him as if he
spake the words of God. More than twenty years after, he
tells us, in his preface to the Psalms, that this " threatening
of William Farel was as if God had seized him by his awful
hand from heaven, and compelled him to renounce his in-
tended journey." Thenceforth Calvin's name and fame were
to be the chief glory of this ancient city. Montesquieu says,
" The Genevese ought to observe the day of his arrival as a
festival." No man in all its history, glorious as it is, and
resplendent with names of world-wide renown, exerted so

19

290 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

lasting and happy an influence over its destiny, or did so
much to make it conspicuous and honorable.

The city, numbering at this time not more than twenty
thousand inhabitants, by its position and its history, was ad-
mirably adapted to become the metropolis of the Reformation.
Situated on the western shore of Lake Leman, where the
Rhone has its exodus, with Mount Blanc towering before it,
and the clear waters of the lake at its feet, " the lofty houses
towering above the walls, and enclosed by the verdure of the
glacis," the city reposes in queenly beauty amidst the most
beautiful and sublime scenery. Its history reaches back to
the times of Cresar, when it formed one of the strongholds of
the Allobroges. Subsequently, destroyed by fire, it was re-
built during the reign of Aurelian, and called by his name.
The inhabitants embraced Christianity in the fourth century.
It Avas at one time the capital of the kingdom of Burgundy,
then attached to the French monarchy, and still later trans-
ferred to the German empire.

The power of the emperor in those days was exceedingly
limited. Struggles arose between the local counts and the
bishop, in which, for the most part, the city sided with the
latter, and the surrounding country with the former, who
had their residence in the mountains. The government of
the city had long been partially republican. At length the
struggle assumed a triangular form, in which the popular
party, the bishop, and the Dukes of Saxony were the antag-
onistic parties. In 1.526, by an alliance with Berne and Fri-
burg, the Glenevese became strong enough to resist the duke.
While, just after Farel's visit in 1532, the Catholic bishop,
having carried off" a young girl in the season of Lent, was ex-
pelled for ever from the city.

At this time the Reformation had made giTat progress
in Switzerland. At Zurich, Zuingli had established the
Protestant faith, and had already fallen by its banner in
the battle of Cappel, in 1531. Basle and Berne had both
been won over to the truth, while darkness still rested up-
on Geneva. It was not until 1535, that, under Farel and

JOHN CALVIN. 291

Viretj the Reformation obtained a permanent foothold in the
city.

Just at this juncture Calvin arrived. The Reformation
had fairly commenced ; the bishop had been finally expelled ,
the Duke of Saxony had been successfully resisted. But as
yet the city was divided into factions, and in a state of po-
litical and religious chaos. He was received with immense
enthusiasm. Crowds flocked to St. Peter's, the cathedral
church, to hear him preach. He was immediately elected
preacher and teacher of theology, '■•■ the latter of Avhich only,
he at that time acceiJted.

The situation of things at Geneva made Calvin's position
one of great and increasing difficulty. The Reformation was
as yet merely nominal. The people had thrown off the form
of the Papacy, but the manners and morals, the ignorance and
unholy passions which it had nourished, were still unchanged.
"Lively and excitable, the Genevese citizen had till recently
indulged in an almost unbounded license. He loved dancing
and music, and, when the season allowed of it, enjoyed those
amusements in the open air. The doors of numerous wine-
shops lay always invitingly open ; and in rainy weather, or
to those whose dancing days were over, offered in addition to
their liquor, the stimulus of a game of cards. Numerous
holidays, besides Sundays, released the wearied tradesman
from his warehouse or his shop,' to seek recreation in the form
most agreeable to him. Masquerades and other mummeries
were frequent." The gi'eatest dissoluteness of manners pre-
vailed. Reckless gaming, drunkenness, adultery, blasphemy,
and all sorts of vice and wickedness abounded. Prostitution
was sanctioned by the authority of the State, and the public
stews were placed under the superintendence of a woman
elected by the council, and called the Reine du hordel. The
registers abound with entries respecting the regulation of these
pandemoniums. If the manners of the laity were corrupt,

* " Professor of Sacred Literature," Beza says. But Henry says, " Teacher
of Theology," because there was yet uo academy.

292 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

those of the clergy were as bad, or worse. The canons of St.
Peter's, whose office conferred u]3on them a share in the spir-
itual government of the city, were particularly notorious for
their misconduct. They paraded their vices with so much
eflft'ontery, that in 1530 the Grenevese refused to pay them the
-tithes which were so unblushingly applied to the purposes of
debauchery ; and they were obliged to solicit the interference
of Friburg, in order to obtain their money. Their ignorance
was on a par with their profligacy ; and during the progress
of the Reformation, the Genevese clergy publicly admitted
before the council that they were not learned enough either
to maintain or to refute the doctrine of the mass, and the au-
thority of human traditions."*

In this state of things, the first attempts at discipline by
Farel were displeasing to the people. Meanwhile, however,
Calvin had begun his great work with his accustomed vigor
and decision. The Anabaptists had made a lodgment in
Geneva, and created a party adverse to the new ministers;
Calvin met them, and in public discussion overwhelmed them
with argument and fairly drove them from the city. Peter
Caroli, a renegade teacher, sought to destroy their influence
by public accusations of heresy. He, too, was defeated, and
left the city.

Secretly, however, there arose a powerful party of inde-
pendents and libertines, who struggled fiercely against the dis-
cipline of the Reformers. The ministers sought for a thorough
moral reformation. The council, in accordance with their
wishes, forbade many amusements which tended to the corrup-
tion of manners. " A card-player was put in the pillory, with
his pack of cards about his neck. A man guilty of adultery
was sentenced to banishment for a year, and jiaraded through
the city with the woman who shared his guilt, by the com-
mon hangman." These measures awakened bitter opposition,
and a party was formed expressly to put down the ministers.
They succeeded at length in arraying the council against

*Dyer, p. 73

JOHN CALVIN. 293

them, and in securing the passage of resohitions which virtu-
ally subjected the Church to the State in matters purely reli-
gious. Calvin and Farel resisted, and took a decided stand
against the council. " They declared they would not admin-
ister the sacrament of the Supper in a city which would not
submit itself to any kind of church discipline." They took
their stand on two principles which enter into and give char-
acter to Calvin's whole system of church discipline : First,
the duty " of excluding from the Lord's Supper those who,
according to the judgment of the Church, appear unworthy
of the privilege ; and secondly, of not allowing the Church
to be subject to the State in matters which concern religion."

Calvin and Farel were summarily expelled from the city.
" Let it be ; it is better to serve God than man," was their
noble answer. Calvin retired to Strasbom-g. This was in
1538. Here Bucer and Capito labored, and here Calvin was
persuaded to take part with them as a teacher of theology in
their newly-established high schools. He also gathered in
this city a French congregation, and during his residence en-
tered the marriage state. He lectured or preached every day ;
composed his celebrated answer to Cardinal Sadolet ; took
part in several diets ; extended his acquaintance among the
Lutherans, and bore a conspicuous part as a wise counselor
in most of the measures adopted for the advancement of the
Reformation.

Bu^, with all this labor and responsibility upon him,
Strasbourg was, in comparison with G-eneva, a place of repose
a-nd quiet. His residence here had a most decisive influence
on his after usefulness. The pride of intellectual power, so
natural to a young man, was humbled. He felt himself
driven to a more perfect dependence on God. Retiring within
himself, he sounded the depths of his own weakness and cor-
ruption, and felt more than ever the power and the precious-
ness of the redemption of Jesus. This was his Patmos,
where he received new revelations of divine truth. It was in
this retirement he prepared himself for those energetical labors
which occupied most of the remainder of his life. The great

294 HI8T0KICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

commentator, whose lucid expositions of God's word were to
instruct millions in after days, was formed, if not created, at
Strasbourg. This brief retirement from the strifes and fierce
antagonism of Geneva, gave depth to his piety, expansion to
his intellect, and enriched his whole nature with a new power
of thought. "When recalled by the now humbled and repent-
ant Genevese, he carried back with him a richer Christian
experience, a judgment wiser and more cautious, and a ca-
pacity for influence greatly increased.

This event occurred in 1541. He shrank at first from a
resumption of his former charge. His fears suggested excuses
for not returning. And when at last duty and faith jjrevailed,
he exclaims, " But with how much sorrow ! with how many
tears ! with what anguish !" He loved his flock at Geneva
so dearly, xhat to save them " he was ready to resign life
itself," yet to assume again those fearful ministerial respon-
sibilities and enter again upon the great work of renovating
that polluted city, was a trial teiTible to his now humbled
nature.

His return was a triumph, not of man, but of God. He
would not go back alone ; Farel, who had shared in his exile,
must also share in his recall. This bold and heroic Keformer
remained but for a season. After a brief visit he returned to
his flock at Neufchatel.

Calvin was now thirty-two years old. His shrinking and
timid nature had been strengthened by the fierce 'storms
which had beat upon him. His intellect was in a state of great
maturity and fruitfulness. His domestic life had been set-
tled by a most happy marriage. His Christian character had
developed quietly and nobly, and completed his preparation
for the great work he was to 23erform. His mission was now
one of peace and order ; the building up of the Church out
of the chaotic wreck of the Papacy ; the setting forth of the
grand system of Christian doctrine, and the exposition of the
living Word.

He first turned his attention to the subject of discipline ;
while at Strasbourg his views on this subject had been more

J

JOHN CALVIN. 295

fully matured, and the exposition of them in his Institutes
prejiared. He first of all requested of the council the ap-
pointment of representatives, who should act with the pastor
in the administration of discij^line. This constitutes one of
the chief principles of that pure Presbyterianism which he
sought to reestablish, according to the original constitution
of the primitive Church. In connection with the parity of
the clergy, it formed a direct contrast to the practice of the
Roman church. It gave to the Church itself the power of
discipline in the most efficient form. He made those lay
elders subject to an .annual election, and ordained that they
should always outnumber the pastors. The clergy were
stripped at once of that power which had rendered them, at
times, the most formidable opponents of spiritual freedom.
A court was constituted by the people themselves, the most
efficient of all bodies for the administration of church govern-
ment. Much of Calvin's success, in the restoration of order,
and the constitution of a pure church, amidst the abounding
licentiousness and rebellious elements still joowerful at Ge-
neva, is due to his system of church discipline. He put the
burden of its administration off from himself and his col-
leagues upon the consistoiy, in which the laymen were double
the clergy. He placed between the pastors and the shafts of
the evil-minded and the profligate, a body of wise and effi-
cient laymen. He secured wiser and more thorough action,
by enlisting in the work men moving among the people, and
conversant with all their prejudices, feelings and opinions.
This system, which for its simplicity, efficiency and freedom,
commended itself at once, soon spread through all the Re-
formed churches in Switzerland, France and Holland, entered
England, and became dominant in Scotland.

It is just at this point the Lutheran church had failed.
Justification by faith was then the gi-and doctrine which Lu-
ther made the article of a standint^ or a falling; cliurch. But
the church that fails in discipline, that flings open the sac-
rament to all comers, that lays aside the true authority of the
keys, may have a creed the mosc orthodox, and catecliism the

296 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

most aclmiraLle, as expositions of Christian doctrine, yet will
she utterly lose her purity, and become a degenerate mass of
formality and corruption. It is in this point of view that the
Protestant world owe to Calvin a debt of gratitude, for the
restoration of discipline to the Christian Church, not at all
inferior to that which belongs to the mighty and heroic Re-
former who reestablished the fundamental doctrine of Chris-
tianity, and lifted up on high the truth of salvation solely by
the blood and death of Jesus Christ. In this little republic
of Geneva, did this man, all unconscious of the vast results
he was working out, introduce the idea, the form and the most
eJEficient machine of church discipline. He drew lines of cir-
cumvallation around the Lord's table, and guarded the ap-
proach to it with a jealous eye.

The defect of his arrangement consisted in committing to
the State the power of electing the consistory. His beau-
ideal of a State was that of a theocracy, in which the civil
and the religious departments acted as checks upon each
other, while both acknowledged the same ultimate authority,
and followed the same general rule. This connection of
Church and State was common to the Protestantism of that
age. It was the TrpoWov ipevdog of the Reformation. It has
been the source of evils manifold, in both Church and State.
The union never has existed long without bringing forth
evil. Geneva itself, in these latter days, is a witness to this
truth.

But with this exception — which indeed for a time rather
aided the evangelical religion — the system of Presbytery, as
worked by Calvin, had a most happy influence in reducing
the chaotic mass to order, and in establishing a well-ordered
Christian society. John Knox, who spent two years here
during the reign of bloody Mary, thus writes in 1547 : " In
my heart I could have wished it might please God to guide
and conduct yourself to this place, Avhere, I neither fear nor
shame to say, is the most -perfect school of Christ that ever
loas in the earth since the days of the Apostles. In other
places I confess Christ to be truly preached, but manners and

JOHN CALVIN. 297

religion, or sinners reformed, I have not yet seen in any other
place beside."* In 1685, more than one hundred years after
Calvin's death. Bishop Burnet visited Geneva. His eulogy of
this little State is too long for us to quote. He says that
Geneva has so many good constitutions in it that the great-
est may justly learn of it. He praises their good works, their
justice and good faith, the exalted character of their minis-
ters, the extent to which learning was diffused among all
classes of citizens, their public morality and general civility.
Let these encomiums on Geneva be compared with the de-
scription given of its state and manners under the Papacy,
and the contrast is a glorious vindication of the efficacy of
Calvin's influence, and the working of his system.

Within the limits assigned to us it will not be possible to
describe minutely the phases of Calvin's life and work during
the twenty-eight years that he labored at Geneva. He estab-
lished the academy in which Beza and Turretin afterwards
lectured, and which for a long period furnished preachers and
pastors for the Reformed churches.

His " Institutes" he elaborated in successive editions until
it assumed its present comjileteness. He labored with ex-
traordinary diligence at his Commentaries until the close of
life. He wrote in defense of the Reformed doctrines, and, for
the encouragement of the faithful, tracts which would fill
volumes. The churches of Reformed faith everywhere in
Europe looked up to him for advice and assistance. He was
poor, and rejoiced in his poverty, while he made many rich.
The great theologian and reformer, whose mind has impressed
itself deeply uj^on the whole Protestant church, lived in an
obscure house, and on a salary that was barely sufficient to
supply the usual necessaries of life. " His pay consisted of
fifty dollars, twelve measures of corn, two tuns of wine, and
a dwelling house." To this some additions were made after-
wards.

After his return, "he preached every day during each

* Letters, p. 377.

298 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

alternate week ; thrice a week he gave lectures in theology ;
presided in the- consistory on Thursday ; and every Friday,
at the meetings for scriptural discussion held in St. Peter's
church, delivered almost a complete lecture. When it was
not his week to preach, he had his works brought to him in
bed at five or six o'clock in the morning and dictated to an
amanuensis."*

Florimond de Raimond, the Catholic, says of him :
"With a body dry and attenuated, he had a mind ever
grave and vigorous ; ready for service, always prepared for
attacks. He fasted greatly in his youth ; never seeking so-
ciety, but always retired, Calvin had hardly an equal. He
was so assiduous in completing his ' Institutes' that he
passed whole nights without sleeping, and days without
eating."f

In the university he had, while yet a youth, by severe
study without exercise, laid the foundation for various dis-
eases that troubled him through life, and brought him pre-
maturely to the grave. But so intense was his enthusiasm,
so earnest his spirit, so entirely did he give himself to the
work of the ministry, that few men have ever lived who in
the same time have accomplished so much for the Church of
Christ.

If we view Calvin as a writer, we see a master forging
the links of thought and giving them a form admirable for
strength, clearness and beauty. His Latin is Ciceronian in
its purity and its vigor. He gave to his native tongue an
elegance and a force which contributed essentially to its pres-
ent purity. It has been objected that he indulged in invective.
But this was the manner of his time. Personalities were in-
terwoven with purely doctrinal discussion. Erasmus, the most
elegant writer of his age, uses language that would scarcely
be tolerated now. Melancthon, with his mild and womanly
nature, was more than most men of that day free from this
excess. But how many Melancthons would it have taken to

* Dyer, p. 113. f Henry.

JOHN CALVIN. 299

have wrought out the Reformation ? Zuingli, the ardent ;
Farel, the impetuous ; Q^colampadius, the jjatriot ; Vhet, the
winning and gentle ; Bullinger, Beza and Bucer, all indulge in
the same style of discourse. Luther himself exceeded the rest
in the abusive epithets he heaped upon his adversaries. There
is a fashion in writing and in controversy, as well as in the cut
of a man's clothes. And it is saying but little for us that in
the progress of three centuries, amidst the refinements of peace
and the quiet possession of the gospel, we have attained a po-
lite style of literary warfare, and have learned how to assail
error and errorists with gloved hands.

Of Calvin's married life we know little. His wife, Julette
De Bures, was, according to Beza, "a worthy, noble, well-read
person," a fit companion for the Reformer amidst the stormy
period in which he lived. The notices which he has left of her
are always pleasing. He calls her " singularis exempli fcEra-
ina." Soon after the death of his infant son, the only child
he ever had, he writes to Viret : " Greet all the brethren, and
also your aunt and wife, to whom my wife sends her best
thanks for the friendly and holy consolation which they have
rendered her. She could only write by means of another, and
even to dictate a letter would be painful to her. The Lord
has indeed inflicted a grievous wound upon us by the loss of
our httle sou, and we feel it bitterly. But he is a Father and
knows what is necessary for his children." This happy union
lasted for nine years. She died in 1549. Then he unbosomed
his heart to Viret in a long epistle, in which he gives an ac-
count of her triumphant death. His agony for a time was
almost insupportable. Even after seven years had gone by,
he recurs to his loss with the deej^est emotion. The childless
and widowed man ceased to look to this world for consolation.
He looked forward with hope to the better world, and antici-
pates a reunion there with the loved and lost.

His heart was formed for friendship, and his friends clung
to him with passionate affection. Farel, Viret, Melancthon
were very dear to him. Of Melancthon, after his decease, he
thus writes : — " 0 Philip Melancthon, to thee I address my-

300 HISTOKICAL DISCOUESES AND ESSAYS.

self, to thee who art now living in the presence of God with
Jesus Christ, and there awaitest us, till death shall unite us
in the enjojnnent of that divine peace. A hundred times hast
thou said to me, when, weary with so much labor, and op-
pressed with so many burdens, thou laidst thy head upon my
heart, ' God grant that I may now die !' But I, on my side,
have also a thousand times wished that we had the happiness
to live together."

With Farel and Viret he maintained, from the first hour of
his acquaintance, an unbroken friendship and intimacy rarely
surpassed. In mental characteristics they diifered widely
"Farel excelled in a certain sublimity of mind, so that
nobody could either hear his thunders without trembling, or
listen to his most fervent prayers without feeling almost as it
were carried up to heaven, Viret possessed such winning elo-
quence, that his entranced audience hung upon his lips. Cal-
vin never spoke without filling the mind of the hearer with
most weighty sentiment."* They were both his seniors,
Farel indeed by some twenty-five years. Associated together
either at Geneva as co-pastors, or when occupying diflerent
fields, as co-laborers in the same great Keformation, their
union and affection continued till the close of Calvin's life.
He thought that he perceived in them qualities superior to
those which he himself possessed. Farel's boldness, decision,
and martyr-sj^irit called forth his wonder and admiration. To
him and Viret he unbosomed his whole heart. His letters are
as remarkable for their transparent simplicity, as for their
trusting confidence. Beza, who wrote his life, and who, Dr.
Henry thinks, " surpassed him in learning and eloquence,"
was his associate in the new academy at Geneva, and had
every o2:)portunity of studying his character. He not only
admired the greatness of Calvin, but loved him ardently as a
friend. John Von Spina, after his conversion, had an inter-
view with the Reformer. Shortly after he thus pours out his
heart : " Mine eyes were fixed upon your countenance as long
as my companions would allow. Their society now became

* Beza.

JOHN CALVIN. 301

bitter and intolerable to me. I was still far from satisfied.
In the interview which you gi-anted me, short as it was, yon
had inspired me, by that mysterions power which seemed to
breathe in your discourse and words, with a veneration whicli
could not be surpassed. I am troubled, from hour to hour,
with that desire to see you again which arose in my mind as
you bade me farewell. And I hope my soul will not rest, till
the Lord has united me to you in the bonds of eternal friend-
ship." "They praised," and loved him most, "who knew
him best." His house was thronged with visitors from all
parts of the Protestant world, eager to enjoy his friendship
and listen to his counsels. Knox, and the translators of the
"Geneva Bible," and scores of Puritan reformers, when
driven from England by the persecution of bloody Mary,
found a home at Geneva under the protection of Calvin.
Thousands of French refugees, hastening away from the ter-
ror and the sword that overtook the Protestants in their na-
tive land, were received at Geneva with open arms. Calvin
ministered to their wants, and stood between them and the
jealous hostility of the council. He maintained a wide and
varied correspondence, both of business and friendshij:), with
the pious on the Continent and in Great Britain. Deprived
of children, widowed in maniage, he gave to his friends and
the Church of Christ, the warm affections which others lavish
on their kindred. Few men have ever lived who loved more
ardently, or inspired in turn a more intense affection. If his
striking and bold characteristics created the deepest hatred in
those who loved not his cause or the pure truth of God, they
were so pervaded by a noble and generous nature as to create
an equally enthusiastic affection on the jiart of those who had
embraced the truth. He was not merely admired by his friends
for the grand and solid qualities of his intellect. Beneath all
these, and surrounding them, were tender and kind affections
that won the hearts of those who had access to his society,
and sympathized with the great truths it was his mission to
establish. To distant spectators, who saw only his massive
intellect in his profound and boldly developed system of faith,

302 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

he appeared like that Mount Blanc, whose glittering sum-
mits, rugged, and cold, and lofty, create in the mind of the
beholder the emotion of awe and the feeling of the sublime.
But to those who ajiproached nearer and witnessed his sim-
plicity, his benevolence, his single-hearted devotion to the
cause of Jesus, his appreciation of Christian excellence and
all noble qualities in those associated with him, his profound
humility, his love of truth, his forbearance towards those
whom he regarded as not willfully in eiTor, his kindness of
spirit toward those who sought him for counsel and comfort,
the feeling of awe became blended with softer and warmer
emotions, and the majesty of the sublime mount associated
with itself the vineyards, gardens, and flowers that flourished
and bloomed in its lovely valleys, and spread the attractions
of Eden around its base,

Calvin was not naturally a man of war. Unlike Farel,
whose bold and impetuous spirit seemed to be most at home
amidst the tumult of contending forces, he rather shrank
from controversy, and was only driven to it by a stern sense
of duty. The confusion and the strife in which his first resi-
dence in Geneva involved him, inspired him with an almost
invincible repugnance to undertaking the pastoral office again
in that city. He found in Strasbourg a congenial rej^ose ; a
harbor from which he dreaded again to sail forth upon the
tempest-tossed ocean. Yet, in spite of this love of retire-
ment, he was driven by the force of duty to engage in con-
troversies with the opponents and the friends of the Refor-
mation, to as great an extent as any man of that age. The
mighty movement which gave the Bible to the people, burst
the fetters in which mind had been so long chained, and
brought men forth from the dungeon into the light of day.
Dazzled often, rather than enlightened, multitudes embraced
the most outrageous errors, and sought a license for base pas-
sions in the yet unregulated freedom of opinion. It was the
home for the mad revelry of error. The Reformation, identi-
fied by its foes with this malignant brood of heresies, de-
manded of its leaders the fullest vindication.

JOHN CALVIN, 303

Meanwhile, among the Eeformers themselves, there had
sprung up a controversy on points not at all vital to the
great system they mutually held, which not only threatened
disaster, but which ultimately set back the Reformation three
hundred years. Calvin, as the foremost man in the Reformed
church, was compelled to appear frequently in defense of the
truth. Few men have ever lived who saw the truth more
clearly, or loved it more intensely. He could not bear to see
it- trodden in the mire. He could not bear patiently with
those malignants whose aim it was to cast down the gospel,
and on its ruins rear a temple within which the pride and lust
of man might worship. He expressed his abhorrence in terms
vehement and almost fierce. He handles these despisers of
the truth as ruffians and outlaws from the realm of charity.
He crushes them with his ponderous logic, and then heaps
upon them the most tremendous invective. He treats the
enemies of the truth as the enemies of God, and brands their
errors, in the sight of all men, as the products of the pit,

But in respect to all the many personal assaults against
himself, and in regard to the difficulties which separated the
Reformers themselves, his manner is greatlj^ different. He
comprehends at once the distinction between the substantial
and the non-essential. He deprecates divisions, and is ever
ready to surrender matters indifferent. Of all his colleagues,
at the time of his banishment from Geneva, he evinced the
greatest liberality in the tolerance of those things which did
not affect the essentials of Christian faith and discipline.
Schism and secession in Christ's church, he regarded as
crimes of no ordinary magnitude. He labored for peace. In
Ihe great controversy, " De Ci^na," which divided the Re-
formed and Lutheran churches, and exerted so disastrous an
influence upon the cause of true religion, he labored with all
the strength of his great intellect and earnest soul to harmo-
nize the parties on a common platform. His letter to Luther
is one of the most beautiful exhibitions of child-like venera-
tion and tenderness, which one so gifted, so admired himself,
manifests towards one who might be supposed to be his rival

304 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

and opponent, to be found in all history. Nothing gave him
deeper pain, or wounded more severely his sensitive heart,
than the polemic zeal of those who sought to set these
churches at variance.

It was in the midst of this controversy, in 15G0, that
Melancthon, who on this as on most other points of doctrine
agreed substantially with Calvin, died. " Wearied with labor,
oppressed with many cares," the mild and gentle Christian,
the learned scholar and profound theologian, went to his rest.
He left Calvin alone in the field, to struggle for peace and
harmony until the last. His end was not far oif.

Without dwelling here on that event, which, more than
any other, has been used by Calvin's enemies to blacken his
fair fame — the burning of Servetus — and reserving the re-
marks we have to make in vindication of his character from
the aspersions which even Protestants have cast upon it, for
another article, we hasten to the close.

He had labored after his return to Geneva for nearly a
quarter of a century, in the unselfish and noble work of build-
ing up the kingdom of God, there and abroad. He had met
with obstinate and violent opposition for years, in Geneva
itself But at length his sagacity, his courage, his simple
piety, his caution, and his zeal, won the victory. His system
of discipline became firmly established and thoroughly inter-
woven with the republican constitution of the little State.

He had engaged, even to the last, in controversy with
false friends in the Church and enemies without. But each
year the circle of his influence widened, and the power of it
deepened. He became the center towards which thousands
turned their eyes in aftection and confidence. He corre-
sponded with princes and j^easants, and cheered on the mar-
tyrs amidst their anticipated baptism of fire. He labored to
build up a church at Geneva, as if that were his only work.
He gave himself to the writing of commentaries and the in-
struction of students in theology, as if that were his great
business. He wrote in illustration and defense of the Refor-
mation, as if that alone were his chief task. He corresponded

JOHN CALVIN. 305

with multitudes abroad, and counseled crowds who sought
him at home, as if that were the grand duty of his life. His
love of truth, of the Church, and of the Saviour, wrought in
him a courage most heroic, a zeal the most consuming, and
impelled to labors which seem to us, at this day, almost
superhuman.

As life drew towards its close, " that child-like trust in
God, and invincible faith in prayer," for which he had all
along been remarkable, revealed themselves still more fully.
" He became remarkably soft and gentle ; he strove to offend
no one, and exhibited an unfailing hope in a better life, which
he expressed in short, soul-felt prayers." Unlike Luther, he
never sank into such depths of darkness, and never rose to
such heights of impassioned joy. His temperament was
calmer ; his spirit more habitually serene. Sickness and
wasting study, and life's sea of trouble, had combined to ex-
haust the energies of his body ; but his soul seemed to burn
with a holier flame, and be instinct with a celestial vitality.
To the last he studied the Scriptures, and dictated his
thoughts upon them. Amidst the severest sufferings, when
his brethren besought him to suspend these labors, at least
during his sickness, he mildly answered, " Would you that
the Lord should find me idle when he comes ?"

Early in 1564, it became evident that this precious soul
was soon to leave the world, " On the 2d of April," says
Beza, " it being Easter day, he was canied to church in a
chair. He remained during the whole sermon, and received
the sacrament from my hand. He even joined the congrega-
tion, though with a trembling voice, in the last hymn, ' Lord,
let thy servant depart in peace,' and looking at the counte-
nance of the departing one, easily might we discover the signs
of Christian joyfulness."

On the 25th of the same month, he made his will, in
which, after giving thanks to God for his conversion, and tes-
tifying his belief in the gospel, and praying that he " may be
so purified and washed by the blood of the great Kedeemer,
shed for the sins of mankind, that he might be able to stand

20

306 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

before his judgment seat, and bear his image on him," he dis-
poses of his estate, amounting altogether to less than three
hundred dollars.

On the 30th, he had a final interview with the four syn-
dics and the members of the council. They went in solemn
procession from the council chambers to his house, where he
gave them a solemn address, full of instructions and grateful
recollections of the goodness of God to him and to them.
Few scenes in this world's history are more deeply instructing
and tender than this last inter\dew of Calvin with the govern-
ment of the city in which he labored so long, and with such
manifest tokens of the divine blessing. After his address he
prayed for them, and "then offered his right hand to all pres-
ent, and left them deeply affected and shedding floods of tears,
as if taking their last leave of a father."

On the 28th of April, two days previous, he had addressed
all the ministers of the Genevese territory assembled at his
house. He spoke to them of his affection for them ; recounts
the success the Lord had granted his cause in that region, and
bid them farewell. "We went from him," says Beza, "with
very heavy hearts and wet eyes."

Early in May, having learnt that Farel designed to visit
him ere he departed, he wrote to him in Latin : "Farewell,
my best and most faithful brother ; since it is God's will that
you should survive me, live in the constant recollection of our
union, which, in so far as it was useful to the Church of God,
will still bear for us abiding fruit in heaven. I wish you not
to fatigue yourself on my account. My breath is veak, and
I continually expect it to leave mC; It is enough for me that
I live and die in Christ, who is gain to his people both in life
and in death. Once more farewell with the brethren. Ge-
neva, May 2d, 1564." Farel, now seventy-five years old and
feeble, came nevertheless to bid him personally farewell, and
then returned to Neufchatel, where he shortly afterwards de-
parted to his rest.

His sufferings were extreme, but his soul was all peace.
In his agony he exclaimed in the words of David, " Lord, I

JOHN CALVIN. 307

Opened not my mouth, for it was thy doing." " Thou dost
sorely afflict me, 0 Lord, but it is consolation enough for me,
and I suffer it willingly, since it is thine hand," Multitudes
thronged to see him and express their sympathy. He de-
sired them to be told " that he would rather have his friends
pray for him, than afflict themselves with the sight of his
sufferings."

At length the time of his departure had come. It was on
the evening of the 27th of May, when the sun, descending in
the west, still lingered on the glorious summit of Mount
Blanc, while the twilight in its stillness rested upon city and
lake, and the surrounding country, that this man of God left
the world. The event, though long expected, tilled the city
with mourning. The State and Church wept together. The
inhabitants crowded to gaze upon his emaciated countenance
and lingered long in tears by his cold remains. Without
pomp or parade he was conveyed to his grava No stone
marks the spot where sleeps the dust of one of the greatest of
men and most noble of confessors. He wished to illustrate in
death the simplicity and humility he inculcated in life. The
tears of a bereaved people were his eulogy ; his works his
monument ; and the thousands he guided to Christ and con-
firmed in the faith, his crown of rejoicing on high.

We now purpose to enter more fully into an enumera-
tion of the sources of that power which has given Calvin a
name, not only among the great, but the greatest men of the
past. That he has gained a name among the most illustrious
in the annals of the world, and that it is but the expression
of a character the most remarkable, and an influence the
most profound and wide-spread, both friends and foes are
compelled to afflrm.

The Church of the Reformed, in France, in Holland and
Switzerland, just so far as they retain the spirit of the gospel,

i

308 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

recognize in him the master-mind that, through three cen-
turies, has wrought among them with unequaled power. His
influence lives in the Scotch and Irish churches with increas-
ing vigor. It has, from the time of the Reformation, assisted,
with varying success, in vivifying the elements of good in the
heart of the English church.'-' The great majority of the
evangelical clergy of England have sympathized with his doc-
trinal views. His works, translated into their language to a
greater extent than those of any other continental writer,
have found a home in every well-furnished library, and, in
parts, have been circulated widely among the people. The
religious revival which, under Whitefield and Wesley, consti-
tuted an era in the religious history of England, while under
Wesley and Methodism it took the form of opposition to Cal-
vinism, yet under Whitefield it recognized that system as the
truth, and constituted, in connection with it, the leaven which
has since wrought so powerfully in restoring evangelical piety
within the bosom of the Establishment itself. The Puritans
were Calvinists. The stalwart theologians of the seventeenth
century, whose names have become household words, whose
works are even now republished and circulated by scores of
thousands through Protestant Christendom, as the most

* Hooker thus speaks of him : " A founder it had (viz., the discipline of the
Reformed church) whom, for mine own part, I think incomparably the wisest
man that ever the French church did enjoy since the time it enjoyed him. Hia
bringing up was in the study of civQ law. Divine knowledge he gathered, not
by learning or reading so much as by teaching others. For though thousands
were debtors to him as touching knowledge in that kind, yet he to none, but only
to God, the Author of that most blessed fountain, the Book of Life, and of the
admirable dexterity of wit, together with the helps of other learning which were
his guides.

* * * * ** * * * *

" Two things, of principal moment, there are which have deservedly procured
him honor throughout the world ; the one, his exceeding pains in composing the
'Institutions of Christian Religion;' the other, his no less industrious travails for
expositions of Holy Scripture according to the same Institutions. In which two
things, whosoever they were that after him bestowed their labor, he gained the
advantage of prejudice against them if they gainsayed ; of glory above them, if
they consented." — Preface to Ecclesiastical Polity.

JOHN CALVIN.

thorough expositions of evangelical truth, were, almost to a
man, deeply imbued with the spirit of the great Genevan.

In this new world, Calvin has, from the first, wielded a
more extensive influence, both upon the character of our the-
ology and the forms of our ecclesiastical and civil government,
than any other man. The Puritans of New England, the
Hollanders of New York and New Jersey, the Keformed of
Pennsylvania, the Scotch-Irish of Virginia and Carolina, the
Huguenots, who, after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes,
fled by thousands to our shores, were all students of his
works, in full sympathy with his system of doctrine. Causes
which, in the old world, continue to prevent the full develop-
ment of his views in regard to the form of the Church, and
especially to limit the application of his principles in respect
to the establishment of civil liberty, did not exist on this side
of the Atlantic. Here the churches modeled after the Ge-
neva pattern, furnished the mold for State institutions. The
representative republicanism of Presbytery impressed its most
essential features upon our civil constitutions ; that republic
which now challenges the admiration of the world for its
well-ordered liberty, acknowledges, through its ablest histo-
rians and statesmen, its obligations to the master-spirit of
the Reformed church.

It is also a fact full of interest, that wherever in Europe
or in this country, the system of Calvin has ceased to rule as
a vital element in the popular instruction, there piety, in its
profoundest experience and most intelligent form, has de-
clined. The gi-eat revivals of the past century and of this, in
the Church of Scotland under Chalmers, in the English
church under Simeon and Wilberforce, in this country under
Edwards, the Tennenis, Davies, D wight and Griffin, have
been distinguished by the re-installation of Calvinism as the
most effective form of divine truth for the building up of a
stable and intelligent church. The recent revival of evangel-
ical religion in Germany and France, has been marked by
nothing more significant than the revival of interest in the
writings of the great Reformer. The Lutheran church, so

310 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

long the rival of the Reformed, as she emerges from her
eclipse of faith, tm'ns joyfully to hear the voice of Calvin, as
it echoes still across the waters of Lake Leman. Her ablest
theologians edit his works and re-write his life. And there,
where once Luther and Melancthon reigned supreme, the
word of Calvin, after the lapse of three centuries, has begun
to quicken multitudes and shape the thoughts of those who
are working out this new reformation. At this moment Cal-
vin is effecting more to renovate the Protestantism of Ger-
many than either Luther or Melancthon. If we pass over
into those evangelical sects which formerly rejected his sys-
tem, it will be found that the thinkers among them who
combine in the highest degree deep piety and logical thought,
approximate to his views much more than to any other sys-
tem of faith.

Now, such influence, so wide and profound, so permanent
and diffusive, is not an accident, nor a product of imbecility
and malignity. The mind that thus brings into sympathy
with itself the profoundest thinkers of three centuries ; that,
overleaping the metes of language, of nations, and even of
time, rules over men of such varied culture, such opposing
prejudices, and diverse pursuits, need ask the testimony of no
national academy to estabhsh its claim to greatness. Time,
the spontaneous voice of the good and gi'eat, the vital power
of institutions, civil and religious, felt over continents, have
long since fixed its position, where ecclesiastical bigotry can
not reach it. It is not the little hills, or a solitary mountain,
that can affect to any great extent the climate of a continent.
It is the lofty and extended range, upheaved by God on high,
that permanently modifies the seasons. Gathering upon its
summits the snows of winter, it feeds the streams, arrests and
cools the hot winds of summer, and spreads its influence
around half the globe. Level the Eocky Mountains, and
what would be the character of all western North America ?
Level the Alps, and what a change would come over the cli-
mate of all southern Europe ! Calvin, like those everlasting
mountains under whose shadow he toiled, and where now his

JOHN CALVIN. 311

dust reposes, for centuries has shed abroad an influence upon
the Protestant world, whose extent no man can measure,
whose future no man can estimate.

In accounting for this vast influence, we are led most
naturally to find its source Jii^st of all in the character of the
man himself. In the last analysis of such power, we are com-
pelled to look for its elements in the peculiar constitution of
him who puts it forth. It were as easy to build a pyramid
on its apex, as to suppose that a nairow, feeble intellect could
be associated potentially with such surprising results. It
were less irrational to imagine that the huge blocks which
compose the ruins of the temple of Baalbek, with all the ex-
quisite beauty of the forms, which ages have not sufiiced ut-
terly to efface, were quarried, chiseled and elevated to their
position, by idiots and pigmies, than to suppose that Calvin's
work was brought out by feebleness.

The most obvious characteristic of his intellect is /or cc.
From whatever point you view it, it presents the same solid,
massive aspect. His thoughts are always weighty, sometimes
gi-and. He assails an enemy with the heaviest artillery. He
never falters in his defiance, or plays like a light horseman
around the object of attack. He is in the field of thought,
Richard the Lion-hearted, cleaving at a blow of his ponderous
sword, helmet and cuirass of steel ; never Saladin with his
light and keen Damascus blade, searching for the open joints
of his adversary's harness.

He displays his power in the most rigid analysis, combined
with the finest generalization. He searches at once for prin-
ciples, and then follows them out in their various relations.
The highest power of a logical mind consists not so much in
the ability to deduce consequences from their just causes, as
in the intuitive perception of original principles from which
the appropriate results follow as naturally as the stream flows
fn m the fountain. The power to reason on premises already
known is far less characteristic of a truly great mind, than
the power to discern the radical elements which constitute the
only just basis on which a true solution of any great question

312 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

can be wrought out. Inferior minds often exhibit great skill
in the construction of syllogisms. Allow them premises, and
they will conduct you straight to their conclusions. But it
is only a mind of truly original power, the highest logical
force, that descends at once to the determination of the
groundwork of all correct thought, and rears upon it an ar-
gument comjjact and immovable as the pyramids. Such a
man as Eck, the opponent of Luther, and at first the leading
champion of the Papacy, is a fair example of an empirical
logician, who reasoned from any and every premise that offered
itself, with a skill that not unfrequently confounded the
greatest of his opponents. In mere dialectics neither Luther
nor Melancthon was a match for him. But Calvin's mind
was of another and a higher order. He intuitively sunk his
shaft down to the very rock. He sees with wonderful clear-
ness and states with convincing force the principles which
alone are fundamental to his subject. His statement of these
is usually a demonstration. With his feet ujDon the rock, he
puts forth his strength with perfect ease, and confides in the
logical unfolding of the tnith. Erasmus could analyze a leaf,
and describe its minute construction with greater elegance and
taste ; Luther could paint the tree itself, in its majestic ex-
pansion, and wilderness of branches, and with greater vivid-
ness ; but neither of these equaled him in the ability of laying
bare the roots which give vitality to every branch and leaf.
Nor did he lack the power of logical development. A clear and
compact argumentation, not unlike that of Webster, char-
acterizes almost all the efforts of his mind. His perceptions
are sharply defined, as well as profound. His reasoning flows
on naturally as the necessary consequence of his princijjles.

In his mental constitution the reasoning faculty held su-
premacy. The imagination, or the fancy, was either not
originally very vigorous, or it had been trained to the work
of an humble servitor. He once attempted, like most other
men of great intellectual power, to write poetry, but the at-
tempt issued, like that of Cicero, in a failure. He had none
of the susceptibility to pleasure from tlie contemplation of

JOHN CALVIN. 313

the grand and beautiful in nature and art, which belongs to
highly imaginative natures. He strode through a cathedral
with about as much emotion as a backwoodsman feels in en-
tering a log cabin. He passed his life amidst the grandest
and most beautiful scenes in the natural world, yet there is
not a line in all his voluminous writings which betrays that
they exerted the slightest influence on his soul. Yet in spite
of this lack of fancy, he possessed enough of the secondary
power of imagination to give life to all his composition. He
indulges in tropes and metaphors ; but they never mislead
his intellect, nor cloud his perceptions. He was not one to
delight in an idea only as it loomed up in an illuminated
bank of fog. He never suffers a subtle fancy or an original
analogy to seduce him, as it did Burke and Jeremy Taylor,
from the main course of his demonstration. They loved to
play with their subject ; to dress it up in all the colors of the
rainbow ; to adorn it with every variety of illustration which
an exuberant imagination could create or discern, until, not
unfrequently, the subject itself was wholly lost sight of be-
neath the richness and amplitude of the costume. But Cal-
vin's intellect never encumbered his thoughts with a super-
fluity of adornment. He drives directly at the object he seeks
to attain, without waiting to gather up in his progress a com-
pany of gay and fanciful attendants.

Nor is it at all just to regard him as merely able to com-
bine most happily the thoughts of others — a demonstrator of
the principles which they had unfolded. The power of an
independent thinker, of an original discoverer, is visible on
every page of his works. He searched through the past, and
tried conclusions which others had reached, by the rules which
his own mind had measured. His every step is marked by
the same originality, independence and authority which char-
acterized Napoleon in the demonstrations of the battle-field.
Both were undoubtedly indebted to the past. No man is
purely original in this age of the world. The one. had studied
Caesar, Marlborough, and Turenne, tlie other had read the
fathers and schoolmen, and each had mastered all that had

314 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

been taught before bis day. Yet both proceeded in their
work Avith independence, greatness and power.

In order to conceive rightly of the power of such an intel-
lect, we must not lose sight of Calvin's peculiar temperament.
A great mind is not unfrequently so imbedded in a gross na-
ture, that its activity is greatly diminished. It reveals its
power only in occasional and spasmodic efforts. A sluggish
or a sensual nature often drags down the loftiest intellect, or
greatly impedes its operations. Calvin's temperament was
of another character. He cared not at all for ordinary pleas-
ures ; neither sensual passions, nor those which fasten upon
earthly possessions, moved him. He was as content with
poverty as with riches, and better satisfied with the meager
fare which left his mind clear, than with the feast of the opu-
lent. He might have been a Francis Xavier ; he never could
have been an Alexander VI. He might have condemned
himself to the isolation of the ascetic Jerome ; with him he
could look down upon all merely earthly dignities as toys
suitable for vulgar minds, while occupied with his own great
thoughts, with those spiritual ideas which are of power to
mold the strongest intellects of the world ; but he never
could have become the slave of those earthly appetites which
drove Origen to sacrifice his manhood to the morbid demands
of conscience. He was preeminently an intellectualist. Aside
from the restraining power of grace, his natural temperament,
associated with a mind so active and fervent, contributed not
a little to lift him above many of the temptations which as-
sail men differently constituted. It may indeed have rendered
him less susceptible of the pleasures of social life ; it may
have amounted to a defect in his character, and unfitted him
to shine in the more hmited sphere of a merely pastoral office ;
it may have diminished somewhat his sympathy with com-
mon minds and ordinary interests ; but it undoubtedly con-
stituted an important qualification for the loftier stage on
which he was destined to act his part, and assisted in elevat-
ing him to that position from which, as from a throne higher
than that of kings and emperors, he was to send forth thoughts

JOHN CALVIN. 315

that have worked with quickening power for centuries in the
hearts of millions. It gave him a strength of mental endur-
ance unsurpassed even by the dead and yet living emperor of
his own native land. These men were cast, in this respect, in a
similar mold. Impassive, in regard to the ordinary influences
that sway men, as marble, they both possessed, in part as the
consequence of this constitution, an astonishing force of con-
tinued and intense mental action. Calvin never rested. He
never gave way to self-indulgent repose. He passed from the
lecture-room to the study ; from the exhausting work of
preaching to the labor of preparing commentaries, institutes
of theology, controversial tracts, with no diminution of en-
ergy. He slept but little ; his body wasted to a skeleton un-
der the imperious demands of his spirit. But his intellect,
as if superior to all physical forces, gathered fresh strength
from its own restless action, and grew mightier as the powers
of the earthly nature decayed. Baxter had much of the same
constitution, but we know of no man of his time, and but few
are known to history, who were his equals in the capacity of
unintermitted and far-reaching thought. It is said that Ho-
mer sometimes nods ; we know that Luther often demanded
repose ; even the more intellectual Melancthon grew weary ;
but Calvin, in his extraordinary flights, seemed never to drop
his pinions ; he swept a wider circle as he advanced nearer to
the sun.

We have but one other remark to make in respect to Cal-
vin's peculiar constitution, in virtue of which his influence
has been so vast and permanent. He represented in himself,
to a greater extent than any other, the ideas and ivants that
were then at work in the Christian Church. Men differ as
much in the power of representing the feehngs and the views
of then- fellow-men as in any other one respect. The masses
move along incapable, in the main, of seizing the great ideas
which control them, or of expressing distinctly and vividly
the spirit which animates a state or nation. But there are
men in whose minds that which lies indistinct and confused
in the multitude arrays itself into order and system, and

316 HISTORICAL DISCOUESES AND ESSAYS.

stands fortli as distinct and harmonious as the movements
of a gi-eat army under the eye of a consummate general, who
seize instinctively upon the spirit which is abroad, or who are
unconsciously so filled and animated by it that it finds a direct
illustration through their words and deeds ; who occupy so
elevated a region that the perception of the want enables
them at once to perceive also that which will most fully meet
it. This power is one of the primary elements of greatness.
It is a matter of original constitution. Study and training
may increase its susceptibihty, and impart a power to control
its direction. Circumstances are always necessary to its full
development to give it a position in which it may reveal itself
in living acts. When the fit occasions arise, then such a man
appears ; he is at once recognized by the multitude, and hence-
forth he remains a living embodiment of that which in them
has long struggled for expression.

Now it constitutes one of the marked characteristics of
Calvin, and explains to us in part the hold he has had upon
the Church, that he stood forth as the representative of the
Reformation as it existed in the larger class of minds, espe-
cially in those whose influence in the development of Chris-
tianity was destined to be superior to that of all others.
Luther was a German ; and while it is true that his great
soul stood up in defense of the liberty and purity of the
Church, when other men quailed, and while he will thus
ever remain the grandest figure among the mighty men of
that or any other age, yet the very intensity of his national
spirit, which gave him such surpassing power over his own
countrymen, incapacitated him from being in full sympathy
with the Reformers of other nations. He thought, he felt, he
spake, as a German. The whole costume of his theology and
ecclesiastical polity is national. He represents the defects, as
well as the excellences, the cumbrous robes as well as the
bold spirit, of his own people. Men think of him only as a
German. He never set foot out of his country, except in
the direction of the Vatican. And it is casting no disrespect
upon his memory, or diminishing aught from his real worth.

JOHN CALVIN. 317

to affirm that lie never was the representative of the largest
number of the most influential minds enlisted in that vast
movement.

But vi^ith Calvin it was not so. Men knew him not as a
Frenchman, any more than they know Paul as a Hebrew.
Ardently as he loved his nation, yet, in the loftier position he
had reached, he had in a great measure left behind him na-
tional peculiarities, and brought himself into sympathy with
the energetic spirits of all Protestantism, Knox, Cranmer,
and Melancthon sat at his feet, and recognized in him the
embodiment of views and feelings common to them all. He
was a Scotchman to one, an Englishman to another, a Hol-
lander to a third. He lived at an elevation of thought, and
amid a circle of ideas, into which the most spiritual thinkers
on the side of the Eeformation rejoiced to enter ; where, ex-
alted above the lower range of sectarian views, they met
together as on the common platform of substantial Chris-
tianity. It was this cosmopolitan feature of Calvin's spirit
that would not suffer him to become identified with the par-
tisan views of Zwingle, although in some respects he resem-
bled that great Reformer more fully than any other man of
that age. This broad, capacious spirit, as it qualified him to
move in the higher regions of a common Christianity, made
him then, and ever since, the representative of the thoughts
and feelings of vast multitudes in all the nations among whom
Protestantism prevailed.

If to these constitutional attributes of Calvin's character,
to this originally vigorous and comprehensive understanding,
this peculiarly intellectual temperament, this renmrkable rep-
resentative spirit, we add a training at once scholastic, legal,
biblical, partaking of the subtlety of the schoolmen from whom
the scepter was just then passing away ; of the accuracy and
breadth of legal science, then in its early manhood ; of the
freshness and life which the revived study of the original
Scriptures had imparted to classical knowledge ; and if to
these powerful means of mental development, we add, still
further, a spiritual discipline most profound, biingiug him

318 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

into fellowship with the sufferings of Christ, and into exper-
imental knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus — we shall
then have before us, in the main, the original sources of that
power which has wrought so vigorously and so long in all
parts of the Protestant world.

This Keformer, thus furnished of God with a genius of
exliaustless fecundity and power, laid it all upon the altar of
religion. By a life of incessant toil, he accomplished results
befitting such original endowments. For, after all, it is by
deeds that gi'eatness vindicates itself. Nor is it every kind of
mental labor that exerts a personal influence. There are men
of vast acquirements w^ho have accomplished works at once
difficult and admirable ; works that abide a^s the memorial of
their greatness when they have passed away, but who, never-
theless, do not impress themselves or their thoughts upon the
minds of the world. Erasmus effected a great work in editing
the Greek Testament, thus placing in the hands of others the
instrument by which they were to revolutionize the Christian
Church ; but in all this, he is not felt, personally, as a quick-
ening influence. The translators of the original Scriptures
into the vernacular' of the people, like Tyndale and Cover-
dale, did that which entitles them to the everlasting gratitude
of the Church ; but in all this, they do not so come person-
ally in contact with the minds of men as to make themselves,
their genius, their thoughts, a living and direct influence by
which they are seen, and felt, and acknowledged, as mighty
thinkers. Calvin himself assisted in the translation of the
Scriptures into his native language ; but it is Calvin as the
demonstrator of divine truth, the voice of God to millions,
the expounder of the living word, the illustrator of that which
is obscure, and the exhibitor of great princijiles in a coherent
system, that has become an emjDeror in the realm of thought.

Calvin was not naturally given to controversy ; but, pos-
sessed of such remarkable powers for the discussion of truth,
and placed in a position where he felt himself compelled to
vindicate the great principles of the Reformation from the
assaults of its avowed enemies, and the abuses of its friends,

JOHN CALVIN. 319

he was necessarily drawn into the arena of personal conflict.
It was with reluctance that he paused from his direct labor
in developing the great system of divine truth for the us» of
the Church at large ; but when his views were assailed, when
monstrous errors were putting on the aspect of truth, when
the rising Church of Christ was threatened with total sub-
version, then he turned aside for a time from his gi-eat work
to unmask the error, and confirm the perplexed children of
God. He engaged in controversy with more than his wonted
ardor. His spirit was heated, and often exasperated, by the
malignancy and the felt evils of the attacks of the errorists
of that time. He wrestled with the most gigantic forms of
error. He assailed them with the most ponderous logic, with
the bitterest sarcasm. If he did not always discriminate be-
tween a malignant opposition and an honest conviction, it
was in part because the very violence of error amidst the up-
heaving confusion of religious systems, needed to be met by
an opposition at once bold and uncompromising. Personal
controversies, however necessary they may be for the vindica-
tion of divine truth, yet are always liable to engender the
heat of ill feeling. The controversialist must be almost super-
human, not to impute wrong feeling to him whom he has
convicted of wrong thinking. The intolerance of error, which
is holy, passes over too often into that intolerance of the error-
ist which is sinful. And hence it is that controversy rarely
lives, in its influence, beyond its own age. The struggle for
victory mingles with the struggle for truth. Points of no real
importance are considered as essential. Positions are taken
according to their relation to an opponent, and not according
to their bearing upon the Church at large. Criminations and
recriminations take the place of thorough discussion. The
battle is often fought and won on grounds that have little
interest for posterity, or which are often not the real grounds
on which the truth must be vindicated in after times. For
these reasons, controversial writings, with rare exceptions, are
among the most short-lived of all theological writings. Au-
gustine's " City of God" lives, while his controversial tracts

■320 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

are known only to the curious historian, and serve only to
illustrate the conflicts of the Church. Luther's tracts, ful-
minated against the heresiarchs of his day, are just so much
lumber to the masses of the Christian Church ; while his
"Epistle to the Galatians" remains as a vivifying force in
the hearts of men. Milton's " Areopagitica" will never die ;
while his " Eikonoklastes," with all its wealth of diction and
magnificent declamation, is virtually unknown. Now and
then, a controversial treatise on some subject of abiding inter-
est, and approaching the didactic style, like Pascal's " Pro-
vincial Letters," keeps its position ; but even such works
yield, in interest and permanent influence, to calmer and less
personal discussions. Even Pascal's " Thoughts on Religion,"
imperfect and fragmentary as is their character, are yet vastly
more effective now, and are destined to a far wider range of
influence, than the wonderful artillery with which Port Royal
assailed the Jesuits, and set all France and Italy in a blaze.*

While no man was a more successful controversialist than
Calvin ; while some of his tracts, like his letter to Cardinal
Sadolet, are models of fine argument and an elevated Christian
spirit, yet they have ceased deeply to interest the Christian
Church, and Calvin lives now in those calmer works which
embody his profounder thinking and his pure life of faith.

Let us view him then as a theologian. For it is as the
author of that system which by common consent, since his
time, has borne his name, that he has won the proudest posi-
tion as a thinker and wields the greatest influence over the
faith of the Protestant world. Undoubtedly the basis of his
power is the fact that this system is substantial truth ; that
amidst the intense scrutiny and adverse questionings of after
ages, and the advance of scientific theology, there yet remains
in the whole of this magnificent edifice scarcely a single mu-

* In these remarks we refer to personal controversies, where individuals are
pitted against each other. Many works are controversial, in the sense of oppos-
ing error, which assume a didactic form, and in which the personal element is
either wholly wanting, or is not made prominent. The " De Civitate Dei,'' and
Edwards on the Will, are examples.

JOHN CALVIN. 321

tilation, with only here and there a recognized disproportion
or some small quantity of perishaLle material. Nor is the sys-
tem simply true, but also that form of truth which presents it
in its profoundest and loftiest aspects. It starts with just and
comprehensive views of God. It lays its foundation deep in
the divine sovereignty. It sees the Almighty in his sublime
capacity of an absolute and an infinitely wise Governor in all
things. It beholds him sitting on the circle of the heavens,
the inhabiter of eternity, and out of his infinite perfections
ordaining for his own glory whatever cometh to pass. This
is the key to unlock all the mysteries of theology. All the
parts of this system are directly related to him as their final
cause. The fall and the redemption of man take their char-
acter from his jiurpose, and find their full explanation only
in his wise and holy sovereignty. There is nothing really
profound that does not thus center in God. The system that
starts from man — that makes much of man, is necessarily
superficial.

But while truth, and such truth, constitutes the eternal
basis of this system, yet this of itself does not account for the
ftict of Calvin's influence as its expounder. The same system,
in the main, had been held by theologians before him, and in
his own time. Augustine maintained it with great force of
eloquence. The schoolmen had to a great extent reduced it
to a scientific form. His cotemporary, Melancthon, had em-
bodied it substantially in those celebrated confessions and
apologies which for a time spread dismay through the ranks
of the Papacy.* We must look for another reason for the

* The Lutheran Confessions do not go as far as Calvin on the subject of
predestination ; nor do the majority of those who , adopt his system fully accept
his representations on that subject. Henry says: (vol. ii. p. 94,) "He (Calvin)
practically agreed with Luther in this matter (of predestination), and in his last
Confession, drawn up in 1562, he speaks more decidedly than ever against those
who trusted to predestination, rather than to that which immediately concerns
their state." Luther, he tells us, read the "Institutes," "cum singulari volup-
tate." Melancthon never harmonized fully with Calvin on this point. Calvin
must be considered as the man who has most fully declared this doctrine, and
established it.

21

322 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

fact that this system has come to bear the name of the
Genevan Reformer.

In regard to this point there are several things which com-
bine to make up the power of Calvin ; part of which he had
in common with the Reformers, and part of which he possessed
in a degree superior to them.

1. He took the Bible alone as the rule of faith. He brought
all his reasonings to the simple test of Scripture. He did this
so fairly and with such correctness of interpretation, that while
the full inspiration and authority of the sacred writers are
admitted, so long will his views of truth remain unshaken.
This he did in common with his co-laborers.

2. He divested this system of the superstitious notions,
t^ilse philosophies, and subtle, but human distinctions, which
from the days of Ambrose and the degeneracy of the Roman
church, had been accunuilated upon it. He swept away, as
if they were so many spiders' webs, those earthly, fantastic,
and unscriptural reasonings by which the Papacy, in its fearful
apostacy, had sought to justify itself, and vindicate its claim
to be the Church of God. Never was there a mind less given
to superstition — less under the influence of a morbid imagina-
tion acting upon a morbid conscience. He separated intui-
tively the accretions of error — the miserable coverings of wood,
hay, and stubble which previous theologians had built around
the glorious temple of truth. This he did also in common
with the other great men of the Reformation.

3. He seized upon the gi'eat points of this system with
surprising force. They stood out clearly before him in their
relations to each other. He developed them with masterly
power. He reasons not only acutely and profoundly, but
with a judiciousness and discretion never surpassed.

Some men write only for the learned ; others only for the
unlearned. Calvin, on the other hand, represented that large
class lying between these extremes. In learning, on a level
with the learned, he yet wrote theology not for the scientific
but for the thoughtful. He thus ultimately molded those above
and those below him, for the scientific were attracted by his

JOHN CALVIN, 323

eloquence, and then affected "by his profound arguments, while
the masses will always be moved by those who reason most
clearly and forcibly. It is thus that Calvin's Institutes are
often found not only as indispensable to the library of the
scholar, but in the hands of the more intelligent of the peo-
ple. He so constructed and developed his system that it
should meet the wants of the very minds that have the widest
rule, and accomplish the most among men. It might have
been just as true, and as a system just as complete, indeed as
a scientific development of theology more complete, and yet
having a different form, have soon ceased to meet the wants
of man, or passed into utter oblivion. In constructing a ship
there is a vast difference between the huge galleons in which
Spain used to transport her treasures home from the western
Ophir, at the rate of four or five knots an hour, and those
model vessels which, under the impulse of steam, and with or
without or against the wind, now traverse the ocean in a
week or two. And in the construction of a system of the-
ology, there is an equal difference in adaptation to meet the
wants of living souls. This difference between Calvin and
any of his cotemporaries is manifest to him who will consult
their works, and invests him with a perennial influence — a
power that will only decline when the nature of human mind
shall cease to be what it is.

4. Calvin's theology, in addition to its comprehensiveness,
acuteness, and adaptation to meet the difficulties and wants
of man, is instinct with the fire of genius. He wrote it for
the Church of Christ. He did not sink his style in a series
of dry statements and subtle distinctions. Every line is elo-
quent with thought and feeling. There are no state plati-
tudes— no phrases repeated as a cold formula of orthodoxy.
There is life — energy — fire, in all his movements. A man
deeply moved and all in earnest is before you. His sympathy
with truth — with the Bible — with God and with man, shows
itself on every page. It is the most eloquent system of the-
ology that has ever been written. Not merely in the elegance
and forciblcness of its original Latin, but in our cumbrous,

324 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

irregular translation, we see the lofty genius and feel tlie
power of the writer, Untrammeled by arbitrary rules, unaf-
fected by contrary examjiles, he suffers his fervent soul to
interpenetrate the cold forms of logic, and give to truth its
native life and grace.

Such we conceive to be among the most striking features
of this great work. In sjnte of some extreme opinions, and
one in which we conceive Calvin, in common with the other
Keformers, to have been wholly wrong (his views in regard to
the obligation of the Christian Sabbath), we know of no book
better adaj)ted to settle the mind of this age firmly on the
great system of evangelical truth, and promote that firm faith
in God and his word, which a vain reliance ujjon human rea-
son has weakened in multitudes.

Our limits compelling us to be brief, we can not enlarge on
the character and excellence of those various commentaries
upon the Old and New Testaments, which constitute in our
view the noblest monument of Calvin's genius. This is less
necessary, as it is our jjurpose to suggest the sources of his
power rather than to make an extended analysis of his works.
His Commentaries occupied him much of the time after his
return to Geneva to the close of his life.

In mere exegetical learning he may not have been superior
to several of his cotemporaries. Indeed it is claimed that in
this respect he was not equal to his associate Beza. He
quotes scarcely at all from jirevious commentators. Verbal
criticism he attempts but rarely. His learning appears rather
in results than in the jDrocesses by which those results were
reached. His gi-eat aim undoubtedly was to bring out the
mind of the sacred writers and unfold the precise thought de-
signed to be expressed. Whatever would divert the reader
from fully appreciating this, he at once threw away. In his
preface to the Epistle to the Komans, he says to his friend
Grynaeus : " We both of us thought that the principal ex-
cellence of the interpreter consisted in perspicuous brevity.
And indeed, since it is almost his whole business to lay open
the mind of the writer whom he undertakes to interpret, if

JOHN CALVIN. 325

he withdraws his brains from that, he so far turns aside from
his main end, or at least wanders beyond his limits." It may
also account to us for the absence of much of the display of
philological machinery, so characteristic of modern commen-
tators, that he wrote for the Church at large. His lectures
on the Scri])tures, though delivered during the week, were for
years attended by large congregations ; and his Commentaries,
which cimstitutcd the basis of those lectures, thus received a
popular character adapted to meet the wants of the Church
rather than those of the few learned. Yet even among the
learned no man has received higher praise ; nor is there an-
other person of the past or present age whose interpretations
of Scriptures are oftener quoted by the ablest modern com-
mentators.*

His great excellence and the chief source of his power lies
open to any one at all familiar with his Commentaries. First
of all he possessed the ability of seeing at once the real posi-
tion of the sacred" writers. He puts himself into their place
and explains their words from their point of view. Losing
sight of the sixteenth century, he transfers himself to the
times of David, of Isaiah, of Christ. He surrounds himself
with their circumstances ; he breathes the atmosphere of their
age, their country and their society. He sympathizes with
their feelings and enters into the very life amidst which they
wrote. His Commentary on the Romans seems thus to be
rather an explanation by Paul himself, or a cotemporary,
than that of a Frenchman, centuries after the Epistle was
written. Now, this peculiar form of reading the Scriptures
from the same point of view as their authors, was an admir-
able qualification for the full understanding of their meaning.
For while it is peculiar to the inspired volume that the inspir-
ation of God gives it a character of universality and teaches

* Lucke, Bheinwald, Gebser, Hengstenbcrg, Boehmer all evince their acquaint-
ance with and appreciation of his Commentaries. Winer, whose labors consti-
tute an era in sacred criticism, thus speaks of him : " Calvini miram in pervideuda
apostoli mente subtilitatem, in repcnenda porspicuitatem probanf — as quoted by
Tholuck.

326 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

an expression of the religious feeling of all ages, yet that ex-
pression is more or less (of necessity) aifected by the occasion
which gave it birth. The actual exjseriences of prophet and
apostle are necessarily associated with the circumstances amid
which they lived. The enemies they encounter, the condition
of the Church in their time, the errors or evil practices that
prevailed, all enter into the mold in which the truth is cast.
And he who rising above the present, most clearly perceives,
and most fully appreciates their position, is of all others best
prepared to represent their thoughts. Calvin as fully as, per-
haps more fully than, any other commentator possessed this
ability.

But this power is only preliminary to another equally con-
spicuous in him ; to that peculiar exegetical intuition by which
he seizes the natural development of the thoughts and pene-
trates the heart of a difficult passage. The secret links of
association that bind together the parts of the living word,
the law by which each writer thought and wrote, he appre-
hends with surprising clearness. He traces out with peculiar
skill the connections which shed an entirely new light on a
whole chapter. Now here we think, more than in any other
one respect, is the commentator revealed. It is not by mere
verbal criticism, by the knowledge of forms of construction,
by the mastery of verbs, nouns, adjectives and particles, that
the interpreter of Scripture is most truly characterized.

Bloomfield and Winer may be admirable grammarians ;
they may furnish an admirable apparatus for determining the
mere forms of language ; but it is quite another thing to
penetrate the language and detect the course of thought
which has given birth to that peculiar mode of speech. Indeed,
we have sometimes thought that the tendencies which the
grammarian cultivates, and by which he is enabled to pro-
nounce upon the intended character and force of individual
words and sentences, were, in some respects, adverse to the
free exercise of that exegetical genius which is keen-sighted
to detect the spirit that lies within the form, and the subtle
associations which chain together the parts of the inspired

JOHN CALVIN. 327

record. The lawyer who accustoms liis mind to all the details
of legal forms, sharpens the faculty by which he detects mi-
nute sophistries and legal quibbles ; but he endangers thereby
the power to enter into the spirit of the law itself, to gener-
alize upon the great principles which animate the whole fabric
of civil juris j)rudence, and correctly unfold the views of those
profound Avriters whose minds were mainly intent, not on the
construction of their sentences, but upon those things of
whicli language is, at best, but an imperfect medium.

Of all books in the world, the Bible is one that needs just
such an interpreter. It is like the natural world — not a con-
secutive treatise, like Plato's Phaedo or Butler's Analogy,
but irregular, rugged, varied, compact, multiform. There are
mountains and valleys, trees and flowers, crystals imbedded in
granite, and coal cropping out from the hill-sides ; streams
wild and shallow, smooth and profound. Truth is given in
condensed masses, in sentences, in parables, in narratives, in
rapid arguments. The strata of thought are sometimes piled
upon each other in the inverse order of their formation, they
are often torn violently asunder, separated by huge chasms,
interrupted by the upheaving, right through them, of some
stately mountain, whose top shines in the far-oif heaven.
Now the man who is to interpret this book must have a
genius above that of a collector of cabinet curiosities, or of
one who can simply measure accurately the angle of a crystal
and give names to classes of beautiful forms. Like Newton
and Bacon, he must be able to seize the laws which have
formed these irregularities, and the subtle spirit that under-
lies and penetrates the outward creation.

Such an interpreter of God's word is Calvin. With won-
derful tact he removes the difficulties that meet and arrest a
superficial observer ; he states the different interpretations
which others have given of the words before him, and then
unfolds, in the most natural manner, the real meaning of the
sacred writer. He instinctively avoids what is forced, what
springs not spontaneously from the very heart of the subject.
He indulges in no quaint conceits, and never seeks to magnify

328 HISTOKICAL DISCOUESES AND ESSAYS.

his genius by tlie attempt to evince his ingenuity in far-
fetched explanations. And here lies his great power. His
mind works so easily, the view he gives springs so naturally
from the language, and harmonizes so entirely with the con-
text, that, instead of wondering at his skill, you rather won-
der at your stupidity in not having seen it before.

Another characteristic of Calvin, as a commentator, is the
absence of any attempt to make the Scriptures speak accord-
ing to any preconceived system of doctrine. We do not mean
that he had no respect to the traditional interpretations of
tlie Church ; for to have done this, would have been to reject
one of the most admirable aids furnished by the Spirit and
Providence of God. Nor do we mean that in no instance his
own doctrinal behef exerted an influence in giving shape to
his interpretations ; for this would be to attribute to him a
perfection of independence almost superhuman. But what
we mean is, that his Commentary, to a remarkable degree, is
the outflowing of clear intellect and sj)iritual life in full sym-
pathy wdth the truth itself. It is not cut and squared, to
meet the exigencies of a theological system. Unlike Luther,
Melancthon, Musculus, and Bugenhagen, who " made it their
chief concern to prove the Loci Communes of the Lutheran
system, and to shed additional light upon them, by doctrinal
and practical discussions," "••'■■ Calvin sought, without reference
to any system, to unfold the real sense of the sacred writers.
He does not seek, by special pleading to establish some dogma
of theology. His feirness, candor and truthfulness reveal
themselves on every page. On reading his "Institutes," we
can readily imagine that Calvin could write or had written a
commentary ; for that work abounds with just and forcible
interpretations of Scripture, as the basis and justification of
the doctrines it contains. But no one, on reading his Com-
mentaries, would have imagined that their author had written
a line of systematic theology. He avoids doctrinal discus-
sions, except as they constitute the simple and direct unfold-
ing of the text. In some instances even his intei'pretations
* Tholuck. Bib. Rep., vol. il

JOHN CALVIN. 329

seem to conflict with the views expressed in his theology. It
is this manifest purpose to let the Word of Grod utter its own
will, without attempting to shape an instrument by which its
tones shall he modified, that commends the Commentaries of
Calvin to the minds of men, and assists in perpetuating his
influence.

We need not here speak of his style, at once elegant, per-
spicuous, concise, and forcible. He rarely indulges in decla-
mation, and never in that luxuriance of imagery of which
Luther is so remarkable an illustration. He distinguishes
admirably between the functions of a commentator and a
preacher ; between the man whose business it is to lay open
the Scriptures just as they are, to the thoughtful reader, and
the man whose business it is to illustrate and apply the Scrip-
tures thus laid open, to all the varying wants and circum-
stances of a congregation.

And finally, we see in Calvin a spirit pervaded with the
profoundest religious feelings ; molded by the very truth he
seeks to unfold, in hearty sympathy with the holy men who
wrote as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. The life of
religion animates every line. The love of the truth and of
Jesus, the brightest manifestation of truth, glows everywhere.
We see a Christian in profound experimental acquaintance
with the deepest wants of the religious life ; a confessor, at-
testing his estimate of the gosj^el by his renunciation of all
earthly honors, in obedience to its will ; a soul humble, pen-
itent, relying wholly on the redemption of Jesus, amidst the
stern trials to which, in common with his fellow-laborers, he
was exposed ; a soldier, taking the truth of God alone as his
armor and his weapon of attack upon the powers of darkness.

All these great qualities have combined to give Calvin in-
fluence as a commentator. They are now reviving an interest
in him all over Germany and the Protestant world. They
are destined to perpetuate his powers, when others, great and
learned and pious, but possessed of these peculiar excellences
in a less degree, have ceased to influence the world.*

* Those wlio desire to read a learned and admirable analysis of Calviu's Com-

330 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

Calvin, was not only a writer : he was the founder, or the
reviver, of an ecclesiastical system. He not only pulled down,
with holy zeal, the vast structure of the Papacy ; he was also
equally zealous in reconstructing the outward form of the
Church in harmony with the pattern given us in the Word
of God, so far as that was appropriate to the age in which
he Hved. His views on this subject were very early matured;
and one of his earliest labors at Geneva, was an attempt to
build up a church according to his ideal.

His system involves the following principles ;

1st. The Church of Christ is under the special guidance
of the Holy Spirit ; and we are to look to the promise of the
Saviour for the preservation of her truth and purity.

2d. The Word of God is the only infallible rule of faith
and practice.

3d. The permanent officers of a church are j^resbyters and
deacons.

4th. To deacons is committed the care of the funds, and
of the poor.

5th. To presbyters belong government and instruction,

6th. Presbyters are divided into, first. Pastors and teach-
ers, whose chief work it is to preach the gospel and perform
pastoral labor, and administer the ordinances ; second, Lay
elders, whose business it is, in conjunction with the pastors,
to attend to discipline and order.

7th. The election of all these officers belongs to the
Church itself. The pastors ordain only those whom the
people choose for this purpose, the function of the Church,
in this behalf, being to decide who, in the judgment of char-
ity, are called of God to office, no one being qualified without
such call both of God and the people.

8th. To secure harmony of faith and practice, the churches
meet in Synods or Councils by their pastors and elders, the
latter being the representatives of the people.

mentaries, are referred to an article by Tholuck, translated in the Bib. Repos,,

voL ii. Pirst Series.

JOHN CALVIN. 331

9th. The Church, in all spiritual matters, is entirely inde-
pendent of the State, and responsible to Christ alone.

This system, in part, Zwingle had adopted in the church
at Zurich, before Calvin came to Greneva. Francis Lambert
had propounded it, in the main, in Germany, although with
little success. Calvin, however, first gave the full develop-
ment of it in theoiy ; and it is to him that its sj)read among
the Reformed churches is chiefly due. The theory, in its per-
fect form, is found in his Institutes. But in the attempt to
"establish it at Geneva, he felt obliged to vary from it in one
important particular, in suffering the elders to be chosen from
the council, rather than from the Church at large.

On this system, we submit the following remarks :

1st. It constitutes a well-defined, consistent, and positive
government. Order is Heaven's first law : and in the Church,
Calvin saw that government was just as necessary, and just
as scriptural, as in the State. He sought to frame a system
substantially in harmony with that adopted by the primitive
Church, which should be compact, consistent, and strong
enough to resist the tendencies to anarchy on the one side,
and priestly domination on the other

2d. It invests the Church, under Christ, with original
jurisdiction. The power goes up from the Church to her
officers, and not down, from a consecrated and necessarily in-
dependent priesthood, to the people. It gives to the Church
power to determine who shall enter into fellowship with her ;
to decide upon articles of faith, according to God's word ; and
to establish the laws according to which she shall be governed.
This is the great principle of liberty — the vital principle,
which opposes most directly all the pretensions of the Papacy,
and in its operation cuts up by the roots all priestly arro-
gance and power. It makes the members of the Church
kings and priests ; the ministiy, while holding their office
direct from Christ by the inward call of his Holy Spirit, and
so being his ambassadors, are yet the servants of the people,
for Christ's sake.

3d. It provides for the regular exercise of this power on

332 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

the part of the Church, by the institution of a strictly repre-
sentative government. It devolves the election of all ecclesi-
astical officers upon the private members of the Church, and
compels them to pass upon the character of those who are to
act in her behalf

4th. It provides for all the great objects, to attain which
officers are necessary. It designates the men who shall preach
the gospel, and instruct the Church, and administer the ordi-
nances, and sets apart to their work those whom the Church
has appointed. It designates those who shall administer dis-
cipline, and care for the purity, order, and peace of the house
of God. It specifies those who shall act as stewards of the
congregation, the almoners of their bounty, charged with the
support of the ministry and the poor. These are the perma-
nent and most necessary officers of the Church. And these
are all found in the primitive Church.

5th. It involves the essential purity of the clergy, in op-
position to a divinely constituted prelacy or hierarchy. It
holds that all ministers are equally bishops and presbyters,
on an equality in respect to government.

6th. It constitutes the Church independent of the State
in all ecclesiastical and spiritual things. It gives no power to
the State to lord it over .God's heritage ; to determine who
shall be entitled to church fellowship ; who shall fill Church
offices ; what shall be the faith of the Church ; or who shall
decide upon her confessions.

7th. Any minister, when placed in heathen lands or new
settlements, has an inherent right to act alone, establish
churches, and ordain their officers ; but so soon as the Church
crystallizes around him, he comes under the general, estab-
lished system,

8th. In addition to this form of government, the system
carries with it a simple ritual of worship. It rejects the pomp
and ceremony of the Romish church, as opposed to a truly
spiritual worship. It avoids the constant appeal to the senses,
as at war with the simple power of truth, and adverse to the
cultivation of an intelligent and scriptural faith. It retains

\

JOHN CALVIN. 333

what the early Church possessed — the reading of the Scrip-
tures, the preaching of the word, extempore prayer, and the
singing of psalms and hymns. It threw aside, with the mass,
the missal, the liturgy, the processions, the robings of priests,
and the mummery of the altar.

The enunciation of these principles constituted an era in
the history of the Church and the world. It is impossible to
estimate their influence in rearing a barrier against the as-
sumptions of the Papacy, in promoting the healthful discip-
line of the Church, and sowing liberal ideas in the world.
" These ideas," says Kanke, " are the same on which the
French, Scotch, and American churches were afterwards
founded, and, indeed, on which the existence and develop-
ment of North America may truly be said to rest. Their
historical importance is beyond all calculation." "'•'•■

Luther approved the system, but he felt unequal to the
task of introducing it into Germany. " For the Germans are
a wild, rude, turbulent people, with whom it is not easy to
begin any thing, unless there be the pressure of the greatest
necessity ."f There was also another reason which prevented
the progress of these principles among the Lutherans. The
Reformation had risen in connection with the temporal power.
The secular authorities had engaged in it, for the purpose, in
part, of being emancipated from the immediate supervision of
the clergy. They had no love for either the discipline or the
democracy of this ecclesiastical regimen. " If these ideas,
which we may describe as ecclesiastically democratic, after-
wards triumphed in other countries, it was because the new
church rose in opposition to the civil power ; its real root
and strength were in the lower classes of the people. But it
was far otherwise in Germany. The new churches were
founded under the protection, the immediate influence, of the
reigning authorities, and its form was naturally determined
by that circumstance.":!: In France, where the State opposed

* History of the Reformation, cap. 5.

f Luther, quoted by Henry, Life of Calvin, vol. L p. 399.

j:Ranke, History of the Reformation, cap. 5.

334 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

the new order of tilings, tliis system was developed more fully
than Calvin had been able to realize it in Geneva. In En-
gland, where the king undertook the Keformation, the Church
was constituted on prelatical principles, and Presbyterianism
assumed the form of dissent from the established worship
But in Scotland, where the people carried it over the heads of
their rulers, it was triumphantly established.

It is of importance here to observe, first, that these ideas,
constituting the principles of freedom in the Church, are, of
all others, most hostile to the advance of the Papacy. They
dethrone pope, and cardinals, and prelates. They suifer no
priestly mediator to stand between the Church and Christ.
They permit no man to lord it over the heritage of God.
These principles, as they prevail, build up free, pure, intelli-
gent churches, in whom the Spirit of God dwelling richly, lifts
up a standard against the pride of the hierarchy and the power
of the Man of Sin, before which they are destined to be utterly
destroyed.

Second. It is Calvin's good fortune to have revived that
system which not only most mightily opposes all spiritual des-
potism, but which identifies itself, as a most efficient ally, with
the progress of civil liberty. The churches he has modeled
are the nurseries of intelligent freemen ; of men full of re-
spect for government as God's institution, not fractious, not
licentious, not given to anarchy ; men accustomed to make
laws and to obey them ; to choose their own rulers and sus-
tain them ; to exercise the rights of priests and kings with-
out confusion or discord. Such men planted this land, and
founded this republic. The Puritan rulers, says one of our
greatest living orators, when they fled to Geneva, saw there
"a church without a bishop, a state without a king." They
never forgot what they saw, or the lesson it taught. They
attested it in that great Parliament which brought the head
of Charles to the block, and inaugurated a new era in the
history of freedom. They attested it when two thousand of
them resigned their livings, and went forth beggars upon the
world. They attested it when they came to these then inhos-

JOHN CALVIN. 335

pitable shores, and planted the church and the school-honse in
every village, that they might have liberty to worship God.
They attested it when the hour of travail came, and millions
of freemen rose against the injustice of King George and Lord
North. They attested it when they established the Church on
the sole basis of God's word, and gave to this new world a re-
publican Constitution. Every State Constitution since formed
is a living witness of the mighty working of those principles
which Calvin thus sent forth to the world. While this system
and these principles mold the people and form the churches
of this great republic, priestcraft may import her millions,
and rear her cathedrals all over the country, and seek to play
off here the sjjiritual despotism which, for a thousand years,
has bowed the old world to the dust. We will penetrate and
renovate her millions with the light of God's pure truth ; her
cathedrals will cease to witness the impieties of the mass, and
the mummery of her liturgy chanted in an unknown tongue,
or remain as monuments of a decaying superstition ; her
spiritual thunders will furnish food for laughter and contempt;
her colossal despotism, cold and frowning, will melt away be-
neath the sun of freedom and truth. ■'•'■

Such were the great deeds that this man was empowered
to perform for the cause of Christ. Such were the living
thoughts which he sent forth to work in the minds of men
long after he was in his grave. These constitute a power in-
disputably great and wonderfully successful. These spread
his influence over Europe and this new world. His theology,

* It may not be generally known that Calvin was among the first of the
Protestants who sought to plant a colony in America. " Their — the French
Huguenots' — first effort to plant a colony was made in Brazil, under the superin-
tendence of Calvin himself, and of Admiral Coligny, who had become a convert
to the doctrine of the Reformation. The church at Geneva furnished the mis-
sionaries designed to accompany their brethren to the new world ; and its pastor
presided at the meetings at which the necessary measures were adopted. Thus
Calvin and his flock were the direct agents in the earliest endeavor to establish
the Protestant faith in America." It failed through the treachery of Chevalier
Villagagnon, it leader. "The colony was nearly thrice as numerous as that
which laid the foundations of the institutions of New England." — Ntnth Am.
Rev. for April, 1855.

336 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

his commentaries, his system of ecclesiastical government, have
not grown old. Invested with a perennial youth, the provi-
dence of Grod is even now awakening to their study multi-
tudes of thoughtful minds. Errors he may have held ; opin-
ions in theology he may have pushed, in some instances,
beyond clear revelation ; interpretations he may have given
of individual passages of Scripture that will not stand the
test of sacred criticism in its present advancement. To say
this is only to repeat that he was not inspired, arid that in-
fallibility dwells in no uninspired man. It is in si:)ite of the
opposition which the stern aspects of parts of his theological
system awakened, in spite of the practical errors into which
he, in common with the other Keformers, fell, that the sub-
stantial merits of his works have won for him so proud a po-
sition among the minds which have been employed by God to
wield a wide and profound influence over the character and
destiny of our race.

We can not take our leave of this illustrious man without
adverting to the time when he arose, and the position in which
he was placed. It is a part of the providence of Grod, not
only to raise up great men, but to place them on that stage
and at that time, which, together, will enable them most suc-
cessfully to accomplish their mission. " You can not pro-
duce the great man before his time, and you can not make
him die before his time ; you can not displace, nor advance,
nor put him back ; you can not continue his existence, and
replace him, for he existed only because he had his work to
do ; he exists no longer, because there is no longer any thing
for him to do, and to continue him, is to continue a useless
past. It was once said to a soldier, who had placed himself
upon a throne, ' Sire, you must watch attentively over the
education of your son ; he must be brought up with the
utmost care, in order to be able to replace you.' ' Eeplace
me !' he replied : ' I could not replace myself ; I am the child
of circumstances.' This man felt that the power which ani-
mated him was not his own, and that it was lent him for a
definite purpose, up to an hour which he could neither hasten

JOHN CALVIN. 337

nor put back."* Calvin came upon the stage just at the time
when a man of his j)eculiar character was most needed. Al-
ready the Reformation had penetrated the hearts of multi-
tudes ; the first great battle had been fought and won ; the
Reformers had announced at Spiers their eternal " Protesf"
against the edict of the emperor, commanding silence in re-
spect to those truths which their hearts burned to preach as
the word of life ; already they had given to the world their
" Augsburg Confession," which henceforth was to be one of
the great landmarks in the advance of Christianity. Henry,
on the throne of England, in obedience to his brutal lusts,
had just renounced allegiance to the pope, in order to become
pope himself Francis and Charles, perplexed at times and
wavering, were yet intent on crushing the Reformation. Lu-
ther's grandest work in originating the great revolution, was
already accomplished. Melancthon, his learned and noble
associate, had mainly fulfilled his mission. The hour of
success was the hour of danger. Divisions were everywhere
threatening the very existence of the Protestant cause. The
work of consolidation — of building up on a solid foundation,
amid the ruins of the Papacy, and the conflicting interests
which struggled for supremacy — had yet to be done. A mind
was needed of another order from that of either Luther or
Melancthon, Zuingli, Farel, or Lefevre. A mind solid,
learned, inventive, logical, active, and stable, to give forth a
full and systematic view of the doctrines of the Cross, was
the great want of the time. Calvin, whose mental training
and character were just of this kind, suddenly emerges from
the smoke of battle in Paris, and is seen and recognized at
once as the man for the age and the hour. A century earlier,
or a half century later, and he would have been out of place.
The circumstances of that time were just the ones to develop
such a mind, to furnish just the work it was qualified to do,
and to give it just that position in which it could be most
successfully accomplished,

* Cousin, Hist. Mod. PhiL
22

338 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

Nor is it a matter of small importance that Calvin was a
Frenchman, not a German — that he was placed at Geneva,
and not at Wittemberg. As a German, he would have risen
under the shadow of the great men who, in Germany, wielded
a scepter that no mere man could hope to obtain. He would
have been trammeled in some of his noblest efforts. Coming
out of France, he carried with him the sympathies of all the
evangelical of his countrymen, and over them he exercised an
influence superior to that of any other reformer. Planted at
Geneva, he became the leader of the Reformation in Switzer-
land and in Italy. Had he remained in Finance, his life might
have been frittered away in individual conflicts, and he might
not have been able to develop and establish his ecclesiastical
system. At Geneva, he had but to mold a small community;
and though he had to deal with the warm blood of the South,
and the bold spirit reared amid the wild scenery of the Alps,
yet it was a field he could easily compass, where he could give
to the world a practical illustration of his church system, and
find leisure to send forth, in their most perfect form, the works
which have made him immortal. Hither, as to an asylum
into which neither pope nor emperor dared to enter, exiles
from all Christendom flocked in crowds. Here, in this little
republic, they heard the truth set forth in its clearest light ;
they saw the primitive Church revived, and flourishing in its
original order and purity. To France, to Germany, to Hol-
land, to England, to Scotland, they carried back principles
which, planted all over these lands, have brought forth pre-
cious fruits.

Thus, the time when Calvin rose, and the position which
he occupied, were just those in which his true greatness could
be most fully developed, and his influence spread abroad most
widely over the Christian world. He was not like one born
out of time. The age waited for him ; the Church was ripe
for his mission ; the hand of God guided him to just that
spot from which he could speak, and where he could labor
with the greatest success.

We do not pronounce upon this man an unqualified eulo-

JOHN CALVIN. 331)

gium. All great men have their weaknesses, then- defects,
their errors. No man has ever perfectly emancipated him-
self from the evil habits of his own time ; nor has any one,
in whom great talents and great passions dwelt, when called
to show those talents on a lofty stage, succeeded in wholly
repressing the evil influence of an imperfectly sanctified heart.
Unlike many who have acted a great part in history, Calvin's
defects and errors fell away from him ; while the learning,
the genius, the piety, the wealth of thought, remain to illu-
minate and bless the world. We care not to detect the spots
on the sun. We are not concerned to count the thorns
around the stem of the flower whose beauty and fragrance
delight us. We behold in him a man of extraordinary pow-
ers, of wonderful affluence of thought, of singular devotion to
the will of God. We recognize him as one elevated by a
divine hand to a position in which he labored with sublime
energy and devotion for the salvation of his fellow-men. He
loves the truth as it is in Jesus, and knows no joy so great
as that inspired by the work of making that truth known to
dying men. He renounces wealth and home for the sake of
Christ. Engaged in a glorious movement that has but one
end, the emancipation of souls from the bondage of ignorance
and sin, he knows no ease, he counts no 'toil too great that
aids in eflecting this object. Fond of retirement, he obeys
his conscience and mingles in the cares and perplexities of
public life. A student in all his habits, he yet engages in
the difficult and annoying work of managing a rude multi-
tude, and disciplining into order a church almost hopelessly
ignorant and corrupt ; complying and gentle to all who seem
to love the Saviour — longing and praying, above all the men
of his time, for the union of Christians in the bond of peace —
he was called to fight with beasts in human form, whose
malignant assaults threatened utter ruin to the ark of Grod.
To him this land owes a debt of gratitude it can never pay.
He lives among us in Church and State. In the emancipa-
tion of the Church from all forms of spiritual despotism, and
the State from all the tyrannies that crush men into the dust

340 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

— the principles which he put forth have akeady borne, and
are destined in the future, still to bear, a glorious part. We
thank God that such a man lived just when and where he
did. Among all the great men of the past — the men who
have exerted the most extensive influence, for the longest
time, with the noblest effects, history knows not his supe-
rior.

X.

WILLIAM PENN.*

William Penn was born in London, October 14, 1644.
His father was Admiral Sir WilKain Penn, a man greatly-
distinguished as a naval officer, both under Cromwell and
Charles II. Living apart from the civil convulsions of his age,
devoting himself with ardor to his own profession, he not only
gained celebrity, but the honors of knighthood. The old
sailor, reposing from the toils of his rough profession, upon
the laurels so bravely won at the conquest of Jamaica, and
in that terrible conflict with the Dutch fleet at Opsdam, in
1665, remained until his death a favorite at the court of
Charles.

His only son, WilUam, springing from so goodly a stock,
was destined by his father for civil life, in the expectation of
a rapid advancement and a brilliant career. This expectation
was disappointed ; although that son in the end has attained
a name and a fame surpassing the highest wishes of his fond
parent. In pursuance of this design, he gave to William the
best education the kingdom afforded. After studying under
teachers of eminence at Chigwell and Tower Hill, he was
entered at Christ's Church College, Oxford, in his fifteenth
year. Here he numbered among his associates the famous
John Locke, with whom we shall find his name associated in
after life. He devoted himself to his studies, until the occur-
rence of an event, which, while it led to his expulsion, ex-
erted a most important influence upon his future course.
While at school he had been the subject of religious im-

* A lecture delivered before the Mercantile Library Aflsociation of Cincinnati,
Ohio, December 7, 1847.

342 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

pressions, which at this time were greatly deepened by the
preaching of an Oxford layman, Thomas Loe, a Friend. Soon
after the restoration of Charles the Second, an order came
down to Oxford requiring the students to wear the surplice —
an old custom which the scepter of the Puritans had swept
away. The usage was offensive to Penn and his associates,
among whom was the afterwards celebrated Robert Spencer,
Earl of Sunderland. Between these friends, an attack was
})lanned upon the newly-robed colh^gians ; in the execution
of which they rushed upon them and tore their surplices over
their heads. Here at least is something thus early developed
in this college boy, out of which subsequently came forth the
full-blown Quaker Confessor. Oxford, however, was not the
place for such exhibitions, and the college authorities soon
cooled the ardor of this surplice-rending sjjirit by an edict of
expulsion.

The admiral, vexed at the dishonor cast upon his name,
and fearful that his son's religious feelings would interfere
with his success in civil life, sends him to France. He re-
sides for a short time in Paris, and spends part of the years
1662 and 1663 with Moses Amyrault, a Huguenot professor
of divinity at Saumur, a man whose reputation filled all
France, alike eminent for his piety and his ability as teacher
of theology. To this noble man much of Penn's mental disci-
pline and theological acquisitions are undoubtedly due. Here
he gained that familiarity with the early Christian writers,
which contributed essentially to his success in the subsequent
conflicts of life. He returned to his father's house in 1664,
polished in manners, familiar with several modern languages,
with a mind enlarged by communion with foreign society, yet
with his religious feelings still unchanged.

Thus prepared, he entered a student of law at Lincoln's
Inn, from which he was driven by the plague, which raged in
London during the year 1665. In the course of the next
year his father sent him to Ireland, for the double purpose of
taking charge of his estates on that island, and by introduc-
ing him into the light and gay court of the Lord Lieutenant,

WILLIAM PENN. 343

Duke of Ormond, of breaking up his son's religious associa-
tions, and restoring his love for scenes of gayety and splendor.
In this latter object he is singularly foiled. For William,
while on business at Cork, accidentally met with the Quaker
layman, the veritable Thomas Loe, whose preaching at Ox-
ford several years before had so much affected his mind. He
heard him preach again, on this theme — " There is a faith
which overcomes the world, and there is a faith which is
overcome by the world." That sermon makes William Penn
a Friend for life. This event occurred in 1666, when he was
twenty-two years old. He is soon recalled by his father, re-
fuses even to take off his hat in his presence, or yield in the
least to his parent's desire that he would conform to the
manner of " courtly people," until the stern old sailor, exas-
perated by his firmness, indignantly expels his only child
from his house. But though cast out, he is not forsaken.
Kind friends ministered to him, a mother's love still em-
braced him, and a mother's hand relieved his wants.

While under this cloud at home, he first appears as a
preacher and an author. The man who could suffer such
domestic trials for conscience' sake, was not made to be an
idle member of the church he had espoused. In his twenty-
fourth year, with no small discipline of mind and heart, he
appears boldly before the world as one of the leaders of his
sect ; and from this time, until disease paralyzed his frame,
he ceased not, with his tongue and pen, to advocate the
cause of religious truth in the guise of Quakerism. We now
find him preaching from place to place ; here disputing with
Presbyterians, Independents and Episcopalians, and there
composing tract after tract in defense of what he regarded as
truth. For one of these publications, directed against the
popular notions of the Trinity, he is arrested and thrown into
the Tower, where, during a stay of seven months, besides
other works, he wrote his " No Cross, no Crown," the only
literary production of his with which I am acquainted, that
has had much popularity out of his own denomination, and
has survived till this day.

344 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

Released by the intercession of the Duke of York, we next
see him, in 1699, at the bedside of his friend, Thomas Loe ;
and soon after a joyful reconciliation is effected with his
father, and he returns to reside beneath the parental roof
The next year is remarkable for his famous trial at the Old
Bailey, of which I propose to say something in the sequel.
He is acquitted, and although committed to Newgate on ac-
count of fines, which he was conscientiously opposed to pay-
ing, he is soon liberated. He returned home, to witness the
decline of his esteemed father, and close that parent's eyes in
death. He at once succeeded to the estate, worth some £1,500
a year. But the acquisition of so considerable a fortune does
not in the least abate his religious ardor. With a zeal mount-
ing up to enthusiasm, he continued to write and preach. He
issues a work in defense of the liberties of British subjects ;
disputes with the Baptists respecting the universality of the
divine light ; writes a " caveat" against Popery ; and is
finally committed a second time to Newgate, for refusing to
take the oath of allegiance. On his release he traveled in
Holland and Germany, and returning in 1672, marries Guli-
elma Maria Springett, the daughter of Sir William Spring-
ett, a lady of distinguished personal beauty, and many noble
qualities. For several years his life was a scene of incessant
labor in behalf of the persecuted people of his own faith.
They were years of stern oppression, when the vials of wrath
were poured out upon them even more copiously than upon
other Dissenters. Penn therefore wrote much in favor of
toleration; and by his interest with the Duke of York res-
cued multitudes from prison.

In 1675 he disputes with Richard Baxter, and by a mere
accident becomes a manager of the colony of West Jersey.
He had been called to arbitrate between John Fenwick and
Edward Byllinge, respecting the half share of New Jereey,
held by the former in trust for the latter. This he did so
successfully, that when Byllinge soon after was obliged to
deliver over his property in trust for his creditors, William
Penn was selected as the very man of all others most compe-

WILLIAM PENN. 345

tent to take charge of it. He soon effected the division of
New Jersey into East and West, drew up a constitution for
the western half, and set on foot extensive plans for securing
emigration thither. To such slight circumstances is that
deep interest in our western continent due, which ultimately
brought him to our shores, and gave his name to one of the
fairest of our State sovereignties. From this period, indeed,
the main current of his life set towards America ; to encour-
age emigration, and guide the great experiment to a prosper-
ous issue, constituted his chief toil.

During the year 1677 he is moved by religious impulses
to travel a second time through Holland and Germany. Dur-
ing the progress of this journey he has a memorable inter-
view with Elizabeth, Princess Palatine of the Rhine ; writes
to the king of Poland in favor of the Quakers, and we are
told, in various places has weighty exercises, and much travail
in prayer. These visits to Gemiany subsequently created a
large emigration from that country to Pennsylvania, and em-
balmed his name as one of the most excellent of men, in the
hearts of multitudes along the Ehine. For several years from
this time he is engaged on the one hand in managing the
affairs of West Jersey, and on the other in promoting the
interest of his people in England. He petitions Parliament
in their behalf ; speaks before select committees with great
address ; writes treatise after treatise in favor of toleration ;
and has interviews with King Charles on the same subject.
Although generally indifferent to the political contests of the
day, yet he engages with all zeal in the advocacy of Algernon
Sidney's election, because he, in common with others not a
few, had learnt to respect and love him as a true friend of
man.

Shortly after this, that event occurred wliich has given
the name and the fame of William Penn ■;'o America, and
enrolled him among the founders of these independent com-
monwealths. The Government of England was indebted to
his father £1,600. He solicited in payment, and received,

346 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

the grant of that entire region now known as Pennsylvania.*
He soon published his masterly frame of Government ; emi-
grants in crowds sailed for this new home of freedom, and
finally Penn himself, leaving his family behind, embarked on
the 1st of September, 1682, and about the middle of October
following, landed in the New World. Of the character and
events of his government, I propose to speak presently. It is
sufficient here to say, that having instituted a government,
selected the site and laid out the streets of Philadelphia, and
negotiated important treaties with the Indians, he sailed for
England on the 12th of August, 1684. His return was accel-
erated by the dreadful persecution to which the Friends were
again exposed, under a government bent on utterly crushing
the spirit of non-conformity.

Scarcely had he landed, before that congeries of wit, prof-
ligacy and hypocrisy, Charles the Second, died. The Duke
of York, with the title of James the Second, succeeded to
the vacant throne. With this prince, Admiral Su* William
Penn had been very intimate, and on his death-bed com-
mended his son to his guardianship. And it is due to the
character of this unfortunate personage to say, that in this
instance he was true to the memory of his friend, although,
as the result proved, his friendship was more malignant in its
influence upon the fortunes of Penn, than his indifference or
his hostility. Penn cultivated the fiiendship thus within uis
reach, removed his residence near the person of the king, in-
terceded for many of the oppressed, and enjoyed the pleasure
of securing the recall from Holland of his old college friend,
John Locke, whither he had fled to avoid persecution for his
opposition to arbitrary power. Yet this intimacy with a
monarch so bigoted and despotic, drew upon him suspicious
eyes. The cry of Papist and Jesuit was uttered against him,
and he was obliged to resort to the press to defend himself
against these attacks.

During the brief and ignominious reign of James, he re-

* The name selected by Penn was ''Sylvania," but Charles, much against
Penn's wishes, declared it should be " Pcnn-sylvania."

WILLIAM PENN. 347

mained by his side, with the intention, doubtless, of benefit-
ing thereby the persecuted of his denomination. On the
election of William and Mary, in 1688, Penn began to reap
the fruits of his intimacy with the dethroned monarch. He
found himself not only in disgrace at court, but in great
danger from the portion of a coiTespondence he had carried
on with the exiled James. He is forced into retirement for
several years. In 1693 a double calamity fell upon him.
William deprives him of his government in Pennsylvania,
and his amiable and accomplished wife is removed from his
arms by death. In addition to these sad trials, his own so-
ciety turned against him, for one, among other reasons, that
he mingled too freely in political life ; and thus his foes were
emphatically those of his own religious household, for whom
he had suffered persecution, and undergone prodigious toil.
Meanwhile he abides quietly at home, instructing his mother-
less children, and submitting himself to the wise chastisement
of his God. In 1694 the tide of his prosperity began to re-
turn. He is reconciled to the Quakers, and restored to his
government. Two years subsequently he marries Hannah,
the daughter of Thomas Callowhill of Bristol, and buries his
eldest son, a young man of great promise. In September, '99,
accompanied by his family, he embarked on his second voyage
to America, and arrived here the last day of November.

For two years he remained with his colony, superintending
its affairs, renewing treaties with the Indians, and effecting
among his own society the passage of resolutions for the in-
struction and elevation of the negroes. At the close of this
period, he is recalled to England, by the efforts then made to
disjiossess tlie proprietaries of their governments. Amid the
tears of his peo])le and the sorrow of his poor Indian allies,
he left us, never to return. There is little worthy of special
notice during the remainder of his life. Under the quiet reign
of Queen Anne, he employed his mind chiefly in colonial
affairs, until in 1712 his powers were much impaired by a fit
of apoplexy. From this period he gradually declined in health,
and on the 30th of July, 1718, he died.

348 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

From this Imrried sketch, let us turn to a few of the
points in the life and character of this extraordinary man, the
discussion of which will bring him and his age more prom-
inently before us. I say " his age," for it is just, and funda-
mental to an enlightened estimate of the past, that we trans-
port ourselves back to their times, and view them as they
stood related to their own age. To judge them by the pres-
ent, is either to deny that society has been at all profited by
their discoveries, investigations, or elaborate productions, or
to refuse them the benefit of a rule created by the very prog-
ress of the human mind, and essential to our own vindication
before the tribunal of the future generations. Judged by the
present, in what niche would the master-spirits of the past —
the Bacons, Newtons, Aristotles, be placed ? A child now
masters truth that once taxed the strongest intellects. The
theory of gravitation is familiar to school boys now ; but
there was a time when the discovery of it constituted a pro-
digious advance in human science. Minds of very limited
endowments now penetrate millions of miles further into the
heavens than did Copernicus ; but there was a time when, to
detect the orbit of a planet, and suggest the revolution of the
earth, was a new and brilliant revelation. If this is true in
natural science, it is equally true in moral and civil science.
The noblest men the past has produced, judged by the pres-
ent, would sink into contempt. They have labored to lift
men up to their platform, and prepare them to rise beyond it.
And it is the noblest tribute to these worthies, that many of
their opinions, then novel, have worked their way into the
mind of nations, and become the proud vantage ground of
future progress. Who now reads " Locke on Toleration ?"
How few plod through the " Novum Organum \" What has
become of the " Rambler ?" This seeming neglect is the
proudest triumph of these immortal authors. The millions
have been elevated to the heights they reached, while to their
generation they were standing in the sun. They have lifted
us, their intellectual children, to a position of equality, from
which we may easily rise to one of superiority ; and he would

WILLIAM PENN. 349

want the good sense of a child, who should boast of himself
as taller intrinsically, because he was so placed relatively as to
command a wider range of vision. It is but just, therefore,
for us, in forming an estimate of Penn, to measure him by
his age, and the men of his times.

I shall speak of him first as a Quaker Confessor. The
period between 1625, when Charles the First ascended the
throne of Britain, and 1688, when William and Mary reigned
by right of parliamentary election, is the most memorable in
the history of England. The gi-eat religious Eeformation had
been slowly working for a century in tlia-t island. The Word
of God, now fully translated in that old Saxon garb which
it still wears, had jjenetrated the masses, and elicited a vast
amount of mental power. Under this sublime process of dis-
cipline, minds were developing that were soon to reveal them-
selves as the Anaks of that age. There was opened an original
continent of thought, as fresh, as exhilarating, as if that book
itself had just been revealed. Under the darkness of the mid-
dle ages, before the Press and the Eeformation had given this
volume to the people, men groped with lanterns and torches
over the world ; now the sun shone out, and they traversed
kingdoms, ascended mountains, sailed over oceans, everywhere
mapping down the great features of truth for all future time.
As the discovery of this New World gave wonderful enlarge-
ment, stimulus, and activity to the human mind, overturn-
ing ancient theories, revolutionizing commerce, awakening an
amazing spirit of enterprise, and carrying its reforming en-
ergy into social and civil life ; so did the Bible, when thus
brought in contact with society, work with surpassing energy
all through it, affecting, not merely the religious, but also the
social, the civil, the commercial world.

And yet, just at this period, the nation was cursed with
rulers utterly unable to understand the mighty workings of
the popular mind. The Stuarts were in the main destitute
of that kingly prescience, the noblest mental endowment of a
true statesman, which, through a comprehension of the pres-
ent, anticipates the future and provides for it. They knew

350 HISTORICAL r)ISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

not man, least of all their own people. Ascending the throne
in the person of a foolish jDedant, they left it in that of a blind
higot. They attempted to arrest, when they should have di-
rected ; to repress utterly, when they should have guided the
movement toward freedom. But the spring had come ; the
fountains were full ; the snows of a long winter were dissolv-
ing ; the impetuous stream swelled below, and chafed against
the incumbent ice, until at length it rent its massive chains
with a voice of thunder, and down swept the broken frag-
ments toward the sea. For a time these waters were arrested
under Charles and James. They piled the ice barrier high
above and deep below ; but the angry river was not thus to
be restrained. A part, sweeping off laterally, poured itself
upon this continent, and spread fertility over rising States ;
but the great stream wrought and bored until it channeled
an outlet, swept away that lofty barrier, and moved on tri-
umphantly.

It was in the midst of this popular commotion that
Quakerism arose. About the time of the beheading of
Charles the First, George Fox made his appearance. He was
the great original of his people, the primal spring of their
history. To him it was revealed that, instead of depending
on external teaching, men were to listen to the responses of
an inner oracle, and consult the Spirit, the living light that
ever shed its radiance around and within the soul. This
inner light is the great princij)le of this denomination.
Human teachings, even Scripture itself although inspired,
are only coordinate — supplementary, but not absolutel}^ es-
sential. Hence a learned ministry was useless. Thee and
THOU were the proper terms of address. Taking off the hat
was a show of courtesy utterly worldly, and might induce
hypocrisy. Oaths were of no consequence ; for if a man
would not keep his word, would an oath bind him ? These
and other tilings like them constituted their original, apparent
and permanent peculiarities.

But we are not to suppose that these things alone consti-
tuted the vital force and inward life of this society. They

WILLIAM PENN. 351

were only the external signs of that which originated and
sustained such a body of men, so distinct and peculiar. The
original essence of Quakerism was an intense spiritualism.
In common with multitudes in that age, on whom the Bible
had shone, they sought for a worship more spiritual tlian that
which for centuries had enchained the Christian world. They
fled away from cumbrous rites, from gorgeous ceremonies,
from a ghttering, icy formalism ; from a power which, in
their view, usurj)ing the throne of devotion, had converted
worship into mummery, and the minister into a chattering
priest, which, intruding within the social circle, had cor-
rupted the simplicity of manners ; coined artificial modes of
speech, like the gilding of base metal, to give currency to
worthlessness ; and installed as supreme dictator in the seat
of Conscience and Jehovah the capricious goddess of Fashion.
Outstripping the Puritans, who sought here for a qualified
mean, they took refuge in a system of worship and life, from
which all 'the attractions of /orw were totally excluded — in
which silent connnunion with God, or spontaneous ofierings
of prayer and exhortation should exclude all prescribed rit-
uals. They had seen the world enchanted by the outward, to
the utter neglect of the inward life of religion. They distrusted
a thing that had power to put aside the noblest interests of
the life to come ; that under the guise of devotion converted
men into parrots, and under the plea of refinement of manners,
turned society into a playhouse for apes and monkeys. They
proclaimed war against it. In the stern simplicity of their
churches and dwellings, in the total absence of all form in the
conduct of their worship, in the directness of their speech, in
their refusal to conform their dress to the caprices of fashion,
and the consequent preservation for generations of the cos-
tume of the seventeenth century, they gave their testimony
against the idol that had enslaved the world. This thirst for
the truly spiritual in religion, this desire for sincerity in the
intercom-se of life, this earnest resolve to shake otf the yoke of
hypocrisy, will at once reveal to us the secret of their origin,
their success and their continuance ; it will suggest to us one

352 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

reason why this system obtained such a mastery over a mind
so vigorous and well balanced as that of William Penn, and
prepare us to do justice both to their character as a people,
and to his, the most illustrious of them all.

It should also be remarked that, in their origin, there was
deep enthusiasm. The sect was born amid most extraordinary
convulsions, in both the State and the Church. And it was nat-
ural that it should at first partake of the intense earnestness
of the age. There was much enacted then under the impulse
of an inflamed imagination, which the after sober judgment of
the society rejected. The interruption of public worship by
violent outcries, and sometimes by the spinning wheel and dis-
taff imported into the church — the manner in which individ-
uals attempted to give an unmistakable sign of the nakedness
of the people, and other things of a similar nature, were rather
an index of the intense enthusiasm of their early life, than of
the real character and matured principles of the society. In
time, however, all such offensive peculiarities were either
modified or removed. The fearful persecutions which soon
fell upon them turned their attention from others to them-
selves.* They were harried, pilloried and cast into prison.
Newgate was crowded with men and women, too conscien-
tious to take the oath of allegiance, or pay fines wrongfully
imposed. This terrible ordeal made them more respectful of
the rights of others, and purged off the dross of their early
professors.

Amidst this scene of wild licentiousness in the court, and
the mad revelry of persecution among the people ; when
chapels were closed, clergymen of piety and learning by thou-
sands were silenced, informers lurking in every corner, and
green-eyed suspicion peering at men through their very win-
dows ; when gluttonous priests filled the pulpit, and the

* The Conventicle Act was passed in 1664, and renewed in 1670. Of this
infamous law, the Bishop of Peterborough declared publicly, that it had done its
business against all parties, except the Quakers ; but when the Parliament sits
again, a stronger law wiU be made, not only to take away their lands and goods,
but also io sell them for bond slaves.

WILLIAM PENN. 353

monarch passed unrebukcd from the chamber of his mistress
to the communion table, it was not easy for a mind laboring
under conviction of sin to hear truth adapted to its condition
and enjoy the instructions of faithful pastors. And when
Penn heard the truth preached by Thomas Loe, it was a
grateful benediction unexpectedly bestowed. The truth thus
heard sank into his soul, secured a response from his con-
science, and a cordial embrace from his affections. He turned
disgusted from the splendid dissoluteness of courts, he sur-
rendered prospects as bright for future civil advancement a,s
opened before any man of his age and rank ; he adopted the
sentiments of his teacher respecting costume and dress ; hii
exiled himself from the house of a father he dearly loved ; he
endured imprisonment and contempt with unflinching forti-
tude. Now, here are the great elements of a true confessor.
To constitute such a one, there must be deep convictions of
truth, a high estimate of the importance of that truth, and an
enthusiastic ardor, alike in suffering for and advancing its inter-
ests. Penn had a deep, earnest spirit which gathered strength
from opposition ; which obstacles rendered more impetuous ;
which neither favor nor threatening could turn aside from the
chosen path. Soon after his conversion to Quakerism, he is
imprisoned for attending a meeting of Friends. A pardon is
offered him. He firmly refuses it. " Keligion," he says,
" which is at once my crime and my innocence, makes me a
prisoner to a mayor's malice, but mine own freeman." He
meets his father. But the ceremony of the hat he rejects.
It goes against his conscience. Then comes the struggle be-
tween affection for his parent, reverence for his authority, and
the loss of his inheritance, on the one side, and his conviction
of the demands of religion on the other. Young Penn weeps
in agony. The stern yet kind old admiral entreats, then
threatens, and at last drives his only son from his door. He
becomes a preacher. His energies seem to expand under per-
s6H3ution, and he traverses the land with the fire and zeal of an
apostle. He is sent to the Tower for publisliing a heretical
pamphlet, and there writes " No Cross, No Crown ;" a work

23

354 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS

by which he will live when his persecutors have passed into
oblivion. He tells the Bishop of London, through whose inter-
ference he was imprisoned, " that his prison should be his grave
before he would renounce his just opinion ; for that he owed
his conscience to no man." Before long he is again arrested
while preaching in Grace street, and put on trial at the " Old
Bailey." This trial is among the most memorable on the rec-
ords of that age, scarcely yielding in interest to that of Bax-
ter. It will be remembered that the incarnation of malignancy
then occupied the chief seat of justice — that Jeffries, with his
ermine draggled in the blood of non-conformists, and wet with
the tears of women and children, infused his own fierce spirit
into most of the subordinate judges. Under such an adminis-
tration on the bench, the courts of justice became the vilest
engines of oppression ; crimes ceased to be measured by the
eternal principles of rectitude ; justice bowed to the caj^ricious
humors of ermined s}^cophants ; and innocence finding no rest
within the temple of human law, amid this wild sea of pas-
sion could only fly for refuge to the ark of divine law, com-
mending itself to a power supreme over earthly courts.
During this tiial, Penn wishes to overthrow the indictment
by denying its legality, and demands the law for it. The
recorder tells him it is "common law." Penn answers, "ac-
cording to Coke, common law is common right, and common
right is the great charter privileges confirmed." The recorder
remarks that " he is a troublesome fellow," and finally the
mayor cries out, " take him away, turn him into ilie Bail
Dock." The jury nobly acquit him in spite of thieats and
repeated attempts to starve them into a difierent verdict.
But the prisoner and the jury are all fined for contempt of
court, and sent to Newgate.

It was amid such trials Penn exhibited in the early part of
liis course the rugged virtues of the confessor. It was by such
a discipline his intellect obtained its growth, his principles
consistency, and his heart a knowledge of its own workings.
Nor was he singular in this. The entire sect exhibited the
most amazing fortitude. Conscientiously opposed to the pay-

WILLIAM PENN. 355

ment of unjust fines, and the oath of allegiance, they became
peculiarly obnoxious to the arts of informers and the injustice
of courts, without the ability to avail themselves of those
means of deliverance which sometimes opened to those less
scrupulous. They languished in prisons, they were despoiled
of property, they died by hundreds from the infections of
dungeons. If that was an age of gigantic vice, it was also
an age of equally gigantic virtues ; if that was an age when
religion was derided, and the scoffer sat in the- high places of
power, it was also an age when the fine gold of Christian char-
acter came forth from the furnace in its most unsullied purity.

But turning from William Penn as a confessor, permit
me, before entering upon the discussion of that part of his life
most interesting to us as Americans, to say a word respecting
him as a preacher and author. His sermons are occasionally
spoken of as full of power. But if we may judge from the ap
jDearance of the man and his style of writing, it seems to us
that he must have been more instructive than persuasive-
better adapted to enlighten the mind and triumph in its con-
victions, than to stir the heart by the electric flashes of deep
emotion.

As an author he shows himself capable of excelling in
beauty. But he cared little for ornament. Neither the ge-
nius of his faith, nor the rough controversy which raged about
him, inclined or permitted him to cultivate the graces. His
mind was more Eoman than Greek, and his works show
rather the massive thought and simple earnestness of the for-
mer, than the elaborate beauty and exquisite finish of the lat-
ter. With a perspicacious genius that grasped strongly and
saw clearly, he could set his thoughts forth vividly and logic-
ally. Far from being a profound metaphysician, he yet rose
to distinguished excellence as a popular reasoner. And
though no match for the 'dialectics and theological acumen
of Baxter, ho displays on the more general subjects that agi-
tated the age, a reach of thought, a practical sagacity that re-
minds you of Franklin, with this great excellence above the
philosopher, of a vastly more elevated tone of religious feel-

356 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

ing. His writings are voluminous. He sent forth pamphlet
after pamphlet on the great questions that then absorhed the
attention of his own people, and to some extent stirred the
heart of Christendom. Those controversial works, jjopular
indeed among his own society, are mainl}'- unknown beyond
it. Designed for that age and the controversies of that day,
it is impossible to reinvest them with tlieh original interest.
His work, however, " No Cross, No Crown," to which allu-
sion has been made, has been destined to a longer life, a wider
influence, as it embraces subjects of jiermancnt interest to
mankind in eveiy stage of his progress. His writings on the
" Liberties of Englishmen," and on " English Toleration,"
although admirable of their kind, have been cast into the
shade with other similar works of genius, by the light of that
" holy experiment," which in this land has had its successful
trial.

Certain it is, however, that the society of Friends, at that
time, needed just such a sagacious, common-sense mind, and
that he acquired, and for years wielded among them, a most
salutary, as well as a far-extended influence. Fox, the origi-
nal, the personification of Quakerism, was the man whose
clarion roused the slumbering people, whose fervid eloquence
won over the multitude. Penn arose to give consistency to
their opinions ; to rear ramparts around their citadel ; to
exhibit with logical strength and no small show of learning,
the foundations of their faith. If Fox raised the recruits, and
kindled their zeal, Penn organized and disciplined them into
a regular army. If Fox was the head, Penn was the light,
so that without them both, there would have been no perfect-
ness. This was the great service he rendered to Quakerism,
and for this she cherishes his name among the noblest of her
worthies, and the most potent of her men of might.

AVe come now to consider Penn as the founder of a colony,
and its first statesman. It was fortunate for our country and
the world that this continent had so early a discovery. Dur-
ing the period intervening between this event, and the com-
mencement of those troubles in England which produced the

WILLIAM PENN. 357

great Kevolution, adventurous spirits had surveyed much of
its coast, entered its harbore and rivers, and diffused abroad
a fair knowledge of its character. The wild dreams of the
speculator, the enchanting visions of a western Eldorado that
stirred the breasts and led captive the imaginations of the
first discoverers, had given place to the sober views of truth.
Then as that great conflict advanced, this land opened itself
as a secure theater for the working out of those principles
which then heaved the foundations of society, and shook
down many of its proudest columns. Opinions in the father-
land were all in chaos ; men knew not what they most
needed, or knowing this, could not see an open pathway to
its accomplishment. There the growth of those great princi-
ples which had taken root in multitudes of minds, was re-
pressed by ancient forms, by a lordly hierarchy, by rich nobles,
by the deep loyalty to royal government, generated by ages.
But here the way was open. The field was new. Men must
create governments for themselves. The parent government
was too distant, and for a time too indifferent, to affect them
deeply. Loyalty to royalty, originally weakened by the very
impulses that peopled the country, like the law of gravitation,
diminished in a geometrical ratio, by distance, and the neces-
sities of a new world. And hence, unobstructed by the gi-
gantic power of the past, the founders of our colonies could
institute their great experiments in civil government, with a
broad verge of liberty around them, in which to correct in
the future the mistakes and ignorance of the present. Never
in all time had such a field opened ; at such a period ; to be
sown with such seed. Persecution is our god-father. Intol-
erance was the best patron this country has ever known ;
better a thousand fold than the patronage of princes, and the
benedictions of kings. It sifted the noblest sons of France
upon our shores ; it gave us the honest, cool, intellectual
Gennan ; it drove hither the unbending magnanimity of
Scotland ; it scourged from their own fair shore the best
blood of the free Englishmen ; nor did it refuse us warm
hearts from the flist-anchored isle of Erin. Intolerance, we

358 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

bless thee for thy chains and scourge ! Thou wert but the
birth pangs through which a nation sprang into being — a na-
tion, on whose future, as on whose past, " excelsior" is blaz-
oned, and from whose expanding energies, illustrating the
true sources of human improvement, the four old, hoary
continents may yet gather the materials for national ren-
ovation.

The idea of founding a colony, mainly for the develop-
ment of civil and religious freedom, was not peculiar to Penn.
He followed in the track of others. But to him is due the
conception of a plan of government, in some respects more
complete than any other then known. When once this
scheme was formed, and his charter secured, emigrants came
in ci'owds to share in the magnificent enterprise. The high
character of Penn drew thousands around him from the bosom
of his own persecuted people, who longed, in sympathy with
him, to try the experiment of a State founded on such broad
Christian Hberty. They flocked also in companies from the
heart of Germany, to place themselves under the banner of a
man Avhose presence among them in times past had inspired
a respect alike for his clear, manly intellect, and his open.
Christian heart. So large indeed was this emigration, and so
regularly did the stream continue to swell for many years after
the first establishment of the colony, that it became to Penn
a matter of heartfelt congratulation that no single person, in
the whole history of English colonization, had planted, with-
in the same time, so large and prosperous a colony as that
which, long ere his death, filled the rich valleys, and bordered
the noble rivers of Pennsylvania.

It is impossible for me to do even partial justice to his
character as a statesman without presenting some of the main
features of his government. In the forefront of his scheme
there was an unlimited toleration of religious opinions. It
is scarcely necessary for me to remark here, that in the early
ages of the Church intolerance raved and gnashed its teeth ;
but it was always against the Christian, and by the Jew or
Pagan. The Sanhedrim launched its thunderbolts against

WILLIAM PENN. 359

the disciples ; Eome's imperial eagle wet her claws in their
blood. Tolerant of all other opinions, the mistress of tlie
world, like the volcanoes at her feet, for more than two cen-
turies vomited forth, at ten different periods, flame and lava
and ashes upon the peaceful Christians. Then came a change,
Constantine takes the persecuted to his bosom ; builds for
them churches and cathedrals ; instals Christianity as the
religion of the empire. But the spirit of Pagan Kome had
not ceased' to exist. It passed over into the Christian gov-
ernment. It merely changed its costume, and soon revealed
itself mighty for evil, both in the acts of the Eastern, and in
time, in the fundamental code of the Western church. Un-
der these influences the nations were educated for centuries.
The Keformation did not at once shed light on this subject.
As it awakened thought ; as it burst the bands of ecclesiasti-
cal authority ; as it exalted the Bible above traditions, coun-
cils and Popes, translated and brought it home to the people,
so it scattered the seed which in time should bring forth the
perfect fruit of toleration, while, for the time being, it neces-
sarily modified the code of persecution, by the very process of
an enlightened discussion of the rights of conscience, involved
in the withdrawal from the paganized usurpation of Kome.
and the return to the original platform of apostolic Christian-
ity. But in the first stage of the controversy, the more ob-
vious, vital, and grand truths of revelation were the points
upon which the deepest interests of the great champions of
right centered ; and it was not until the right of reformation,
based upon the right to hold, avow and practice the great
system of saving truth, as revealed in the Bible, was settled,
that men gained the leisure to turn their thoughts upon the
consequences of the principles thus established.

It was in the struggle of the popular mind, during the
English Revolution, that this great element of liberty ex-
panded and worked most successfully. At the commence-
ment of that struggle the spirit of intolerance raged on all
sides. Romanists, Episcopalians, Independents, Presbyte-
rians, and even the Quakers, in the first stage of their history,

360 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

hetray scarcely a conception of this great truth. Even in
New England, where the elements of toleration were as gen-
erously sown as anywhere on earth, Williams and Hutchin-
son are driven into exile. But as the struggle advances, and
parties change sides — the weak waxing strong, and the pow-
erful descending into obscure positions — this truth receives
its development. Roger Williams first embraces the bright
idea. The principle is settled in his clear, calm intellect, and
Rhode Island, years before Penn or Baltimore had seen Amer-
ica, gained the immortal honor of being a State founded in
the conscientious conviction of the wickedness of intolerance,
and the right of man to his own conscience.

In England, some of the strongest minds of that age
grappled with the question. Locke wrote on it with great
power. Milton illumined it with the splendors of his genius.
Penn published pamphlets and volumes in favor of it. He
declares that "what we ask we must give." He traced the
opposite systems of tolerance and intolerance down from ear-
liest history, and successfully showed that the States most
free had been most stable. He goes into an examination
of the ancient liberties of Britons, and declares that this or
that sect of religion was not specified in the ancient govern-
ment. And when he founded his colony, he resolutely incor-
porated these settled convictions into the fundamental frame-
work of his political system. Carrying with him the hearts
of multitudes smarting under the lash of conformity, he gave
to the world the broad and full experiment of a perfect reli-
gious liberty. "••'■" No tests, save that of the belief in the being

* I have used the term " toleration," in tliis discourse, in its general and loose
signification. Strictly, " toleration" implies a national church, a church constituted
by the government as the authorized worship of the people, and sustained by the
State. Thus England tolerates dissenters. She tolerates them in refusing to
conform to the State church, but oljliges them to contribute to the support of that
church. But Penn went far beyond this ; he, at a single stride, reached the very
position to which the spirit of religious freedom, existing in all the other States,
gradually brought them. "With him, as with us now throughout the republic,
the State recognized no one ecclesiastical body as privileged to be the church, be-
fore all others, nor did it tolerate any as a kind of necessary evil. It recognized

WILLIAM PENN. 361

of a God, barred men from the highest offices of State. No
church, patronized by law, enjoyed an immunity of privilege,
with authority to prey upon those out of its pale for subsist-
ence. Men worshiped God, or refused to worship him, with-
out a sheriff's writ upon their backs, or an informer's eye up-
on their actions. Wherever men chose to worship, they
reared their temples ; whenever they chose to enter them,
they found no bristling bayonets marshaled to prevent them.
This was the great law of religious liberty, dearer to man
than even civil freedom, as the interests of the life to come
are inconceivably more grand and momentous than those of
this life. This law was made a chief column in his political
fabric. He planted it so conspicuouslj^, so firmly, that noth-
ing but revolution could wrest it from its place, and prevent
its abiding to uphold the glorious dome of conscience and re-
ligion for all time.

He did this at a time when Britain was convulsed with the
conflict of parties, and gi'oaning under the rod of oppression.
What Locke thought, Penn more than executed. What was
heresy to millions, he established as a fundamental statute of
his government. At a single stride, he took his position be-
side the few, in advance of the many. And for thus leading
the van in this great war with ecclesiastical oppression, he
will be honored while men love truth and value freedom.

We are next to view Penn as giving to his colony a large
degree of civil freedom. The constitution, framed with refer-
ence to the wants of the jDeople at that time, is certainly re-
markable for the extent of its political privileges. While
Locke was attempting to establish in Carolina his pyramidal
constitution, a system of government reminding us of Oriental
towers nineteen stories high, with its dozen orders of nobility,

all religious systems as deserving protection, while it conferred exclusive priv
ileges upon none. This is the present position of all our States, and tliis is the
doctrine of freedom of conscience. "Toleration" and "dissent," therefore, in
the sense attaclied to them over the water, can be used here by no ecclesiastical
body, in reference to another, without incurring the charge of either surprising
arrogance, or unparalleled stupidity.

362 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

its large property franchise, its total exclusion of the masses
from the circle of political control ; while the great jiliiloso-
pher was elaborating this system, so as to secm'e power and
nobility for ever to the few, Penn was proceeding, on simj^le
principles, to create a legislation which should spring from
the many, and have reference to their largest good. As gov-
ernor and proprietor, he retained for himself but a triple vote,
while he entirely surrendered to the people the power of tax-
ation ; the power, which more than all things, carried along
with it the pledge of freedom ; the power, to gain which for
themselves, the colonies subsequently poured out their best
blood and treasure.

That there were defects in his scheme is doubtless true.
But for that age it was a work of great perfection. Its defects
were many of them excellencies in the circumstances of that
people. Time, which tries and changes all human products,
has left its impress here. Lifting us above the state of col-
onies and territories — the infancy and childhood of nations,
where in part foreign strength and wisdom must cooperate
with our own to produce a perfect manhood — it prescribes for
us a new political regimen, in harmony with our advanced
condition. The State lays aside the dress of the territory, and
forms for itself one of amj)ler dimensions. The colonial scheme
of Penn was admirably adapted to the circumstances of his
people. But he went beyond the originating of such a j^lat-
fonu of government. It was an evidence both of great fore-
cast and generous feeling, that instead of stereotyping his
scheme, and seeking to perpetuate an iron constitution, into
which the State should be cast, as the metal in the founder's
matrix, he regarded it as a germ that, in its development,
would rise into new conditions of existence, and demand new
laws of life. He early distinguished between the fundamental,
charter rights of man, which no time should abridge, no cir-
cumstances innovate upon, and those other parts of all con-
stitutions which are in their nature temporary, and may be
altered to suit the advancing condition of the people.

Constitutional reform is one of the greatest privileges of

WILLIAM PENN. 363

Americans. Our civil governments are no Minervas, spring-
ing perfect from the brain of the most consummate legislator.
The human mind, by nature limited, can comj)ass only the
present, and not even that perfectly. It can not penetrate far
into the future, anticipate the changes of society, and so
frame an instrument that it shall meet the wants of all suc-
ceeding generations. The very fact that it is the master-piece
of wisdom for one age, may render it utterly unsuitable for
another. The appeal, therefore, to antiquity, as the proof of
adaptation in a constitution to subsequent times, is not always
well taken. Antiquity, indeed, has its noble uses. The
further into it society sends the roots of its organic life, with
greater power does it usually grasp the minds of men, and
lift itself up with a more massive trunk to meet the storms
that sweep around it. Even the new colonial, or territorial
offshoot, must begin at once to lay hold of antiquity, for the
purpose of obtaining greater solidity, a loftier life, a richer
foliage, as the progress of time permits it to expand down-
wards and upwards. Antiquity thus gives a more perfect
organic life to society. A new social state necessarily lacks
one important element of power, consohdation and perfectness.
It has nothing ancient to inspire veneration, no past, with
its attractive associations, its thrilling history, its venerable
presence, ennobled by distance and age, to create the life of
patriotism, and bind men to their institutions and their soil
with bands of steel. Antiquity, lifting the awful form of
government above us, stays the hand of inexperience from
rude assaults ; rebukes rash experiments — sudden, harsh and
ill-timed changes ; teaches us that all healthful reforms in
the State are slowly elaborated, and that, in the attempt to
rend away from the trunk too many of its branches, gnarled
and unproductive though they be, there may be danger of
affecting for a time the vigor and life of government itself.
Such are the uses of antiquity in an age of reform.

But while all this is true, to suppose that in addition
antiquity consecrates all civil forms and laws, so as to bar
progress in constitutional legislation, is, to say the least, ab-

364 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

surd. Sucli a sentiment would eternize abuses, repress de-
velopment, and oblige all subsequent generations to be cast
in the iron mold of the favored one that may chance to have
stood at the head of national existence. With equal reason
might our first ancestors have fixed the costume of all their
children, and skins formed the sole material of dress. The
log cabin might as well be perpetuated by a law of the first
settlers as the architecture for all this New World. There is
indeed a just sense in which we may legislate for the future,
for the broad, uprising millions. But it is only by acting on
principles that will lift them up to, and open the way for
their elevation above ourselves.

Now, it is the sad inheritance of many nations to possess
a government that can not be reconstructed without revolu-
tion. It is our highest boast, that our constitutions contain
within themselves the provision for their renovation. This
idea is with us fundamental. Law, constitutional Law, is
our sovereign. We own no other civil monarch, we bow to
no other scepter. Amidst the collision of parties, the heat
of political strife, the heavings of popular passion, our fast-
anchored throne, rising like a light-house amid the breakers,
is the Constitution and the Law. But if that Constitution
had no provision for its renewal, and adaptation to each gen-
eration ; if what it is to me, it must be to my grand-children,
amid altered circumstances, when the wave of population and
the advance of society have borne all things forward, then
does it become in time an hereditary despotism, the more
fearful because it dies not, and can only be overturned or
amended by the fierce throes of revolution. This idea, there-
fore, of constitutional reform is indeed magnificent, vast,
reaching down to the very foundation of the organic life of
nations : an idea baleful ! terrible ! a flashing meteor driving
at their thrones, to all hereditary despotisms ; but to us not
the genius of Anarchy with its bloodshot eye and naked
sword, but the noble form of peaceful and law-loving Free-
dom. It gives to each generation the power of renewing its
organic law ; it sends down that law itself to the next gen-

WILLIAM PENN. 365

eration, not in the condition of a watch to bo wound up, nor
of a blind force to be resisted at the expense of blood, but of
a living nature, which, when it reaches its manhood, em-
bosoms a provision for the production of its kind — another
organism like itself, but shaped to meet the new exigencies
of society. With such a constitution, errors, defects, abuses,
are all temporary. They may exist, but it will not bo for the
want of a disciplinary power to remove them. The genera-
tion that feels itself straitened by the action of the past, has
its remedy at hand. By the same peaceful action that legis-
lates under constitutions, it may reorganize its fundamental
law, and totally alter the entire frame of government.

It is no small tribute to the statesmanship of Penn, that
he thus early distinguished between the temporary and
changeable, and the permanent and unchangeable. That,
while he put religious freedom among the rights of man,
which might be enlarged, but which, as jewels wrenched from
the hand of irresponsible power, ought never to be surren-
dered even to the caprice of legislation, he still had an eye on
the perfectibility of his system, and permitted his government
to undergo important changes during his life. It was neces-
sary that he should retain some 2Jrivileges ; yet he ever met
his colony in the spirit of concession, repeatedly changing his
constitution to adapt it to their condition. In this he laid
the foundation of constitutional reform ; although it was not
given him to see the influence of this idea upon the character
of a nation, and upon the interests of liberty ; nor to behold
the future structures which, from these beginnings, have so
grown into grandeur and perfectness as to arrest the observa-
tion of the world.

A sketch of this great man would be incomplete without
an allusion to his views of that sad institution, which, grafted
upon us Avhen we were the connected offshoots of the parent
tree, has ceased not to gather about it the anxieties of the
good, and to constitute an element of deep political and social
excitement in the heart of our nation. There is undoubtedly
a wide difference between the reception of just principles, and

366 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

their application to all proper subjects. The principle may
be clear, while its application may be doubtful. This dis-
tinction must be admitted in morals, as the only key to the
apparent inconsistencies of the noblest men. And it is per-
haps true of this age, that if it has any thing to boast over
our ancestors, it is in this direction — in the application of
the jorinciples they held equally with us. On this subject,
Penn, when compared with his age, needs no apologist. Of
freemen he was foremost. Embracing those great principles,
which, sown all over this new world, in time brought forth
the Declaration of Independence, the Revolution, and the
final consolidation of these colonies under a republican form
of government, he was behind none of his cotemporaries, and
in advance of most of his age, in their application to the con-
dition of the African on American soil. He wisely com-
menced his labors in this field where others often end theirs.
The religious instruction and general elevation of the slave
in his own colony, greatly enlisted his interest and awakened
his sympathies. He labored with great diligence to efiect
these objects, during his last visit to this country. He looked
forward to emancipation, and so earnestly did he call the
attention of his own society to this subject, that he may be
regarded as a pioneer in that gradual reform of their dis-
cipline, in consequence of which, about the close of the Revo-
lution, this whole body became disconnected entirely from the
institution of slavery.

The principles and practice of Penn in reference to peace,
especially as illustrated in the treatment of the aborigines,
are worthy of our notice. We may regard these principles as
an extreme. It seems difficult to understand why the same
argument that forbids me to defend myself personally in the
hour of extreme danger, does not equally restrain me from
defending myself by the hand of a sheriff ; why the argu-
ments urged against jjersonal self-defense, are not in the end
equally good against defense come from what quarter it may;
against, in short, all laws, penalties, and human government.
Yet, if these views are an extreme, manifestly they are an

WILLIAM PENN. 367

amiable extreme, infinitely more in harmony with the spirit
of the gospel than the other extreme, of a blustering, inso-
lent and fiery disposition, that creates an insult by suspecting
it ; that resents, but never recants nor remits ; that prefers a
loaded pistol to a fraternal epistle ; that makes a skillful mur-
der demonstration perfect of an unsullied honor ; that counts
war a pastime, and the glory of arms the highest triumph and
prize of life. The one spreads arts, morality, religion through
the world ; the other, by the glare of burning villages, amid
the wailing of the widow and the orphan, builds its monu-
mental pyramids of human skulls and cements them with
human blood. Ridicule as men may the attitude of the non-
resistant, there is at the groundwork of the theory a noble
principle — a principle of implicit reliance upon the justice
and the providence of God, to take part with the innocent,
and, in ways to us inscrutable, work out their deliverance.
It is the principle that he who touches the meanest of God's
little ones injuriously, arrays the resources of an omnipotent
and omniscient being against him ; it is also that other noble
principle of the gospel, that love, as it worketh no ill to our
neighbor, so it doth mightily tend to disarm revenge of its
purpose, and turn back the sword of malice into its own
bosom.

Adopting these principles, in their most unqualified form
and extreme asj)ect, Penn conformed the early legislation of
his young empire to them, and thus gave a peculiarly peace-
ful spirit and cast to the government and people. Nor was
he disappointed in the results. Few nobler illustrations of
the admirable workings of these principles, in a civil govern-
m.ent, arc to be found, than those furnished by the history of
this State for more than a century after its colonization.
During this entire period, with only two or three exceptions,
the blood of a Friend never stained an Indian's tomahawk.
That was a sublime scene in our national history, worthy a
Raphael's pencil and a Campbell's pen, when three jilain, un-
anned Quakers threw themselves fearlessly among thousands
of hostile Indians, exasperated by rumored wrongs and burn-

368 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

ing with the thirst for vengeance ; when redressing their
grievances, they disarmed their malice and reopened the
fountain of affection and confidence in the red man's breast.
Such a scene reveals the mighty hold of Penn upon the art-
less nature of the Indian ; it proclaims the influence of a
long series of peaceful and just acts, commencing with the
first settlement of the colony, in forming the minds of na-
tions to confidence. It reveals not only the power of a
peaceful, hut also of a just spirit. For William Penn had
none of the elements of that pusillanimity which cloaks a nig-
gard and grasping policy under the formal profession of relig-
ious principles. He and his people were not only men of
peace, but of justice also. For every foot of their soil he
paid the price. He deemed it not sufficient to have pur-
chased the land of his king. He recognized the rights of
others, antedating all the discoveries of moderns ; title deeds
recorded, indeed, in no parchment of courts, but written out
on every tree of the forest, which, however massy their trunks
and lofty their branchings, had all started from the germ cen-
turies after the Indian began to possess this world of ours.
And to this day the jurist, as he searches back among the
records of that age, sees everywhere throughout that State
the effective witnesses of the justice of Penn. He bound the
aborigines to him by treaties, by mutual courts of equity, by
habitually seeking their highest good. No red skin could
charge their good father Onas with injustice or unkindness.
He taught his colonists to redress their wrongs. He punished
the men who took an unjust advantage of the simplicity of
their nature. And though the Indian has faded from the
broad domain of his fathers, and the song of his love, the
shout of his fearful war-cry, rings no more through those
woods, along those streams and around those mountain tops ;
though Wyoming is smoking from the torch, and bleeding
beneath the hatchet of Brandt, yet, spirit of Penn ! thou at
least art blameless ; thy name was the music of peace and
love to the poor Indian in his night of sorrow ; and of thee
he spake tenderly to his children's cliildren, long after thy

WILLIAM PENN. 369

rest had been attained. Had the same maxims universally
regulated the Avhite man's intercourse with the red man, the
records of our States and nation would have been unstained
by legalized bloodshed and judicial robbery. Then we should
have been spared the mortification of seeing the decisions of
the highest tribunals in the land nullified by an inferior
court ; noble men, intent solely on rescuing the Indian from
destruction, incarcerated like felons in prison ; the domain of
a once powerful, now feeble j^eople — a domain received as the
heritage of ages, improved in jjart as the earnest of that
higher civilization to which they were fast ascending — wrest-
ed from them by the arm and right of the stronger, while
they are swept from the graves where their fathers are buried,
and where it is the red man's highest ambition, and most
devout aspiration, he may at length rest. We honor the
memory of the man who, in contrast with such enormous
wi'ong, made justice to the Indian the corner-stone of his
commonwealth, and kindness the law of liis spirit. May his
example be not only admired, but followed ; and the mingled
justice and love of his statesmanship enthrone itself in all
the liigh places of power in our country.

But time admonishes me to bring these remarks to a close.
It is sufficient to remark, in taking leave of this subject, that
Penn carried the same habits of reform into the criminal code
of his colony. He at once blotted out those bloody penalties
which darkened the pages of English jurisprudence ; wisely
resemng the greatest and most influential penalty for that
crime which is of all others most honible — embodying in his
statutes that world-wide command of One wiser than all hu-
man legislators ; an imperial edict, emanating from the in-
visible thi'one of Justice, applicable to all ages, and binding
upon all men ; in which the collective wisdom of all time can
detect no imperfection, and upon which the heel of a nation
can never be placed without prejudice to its highest welfare
— " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be
shed : for in the image of God made he man."

I have thus given you a brief and hurried sketch of this

24

370 HISTOKICAL DISCOUllSES AND ESSAYS.

great man — imperfect in itself, and more imperfect from the
fact that I have purj)Osely abstained from all discussions that
might assume the aspect of theological controversy. He was
not faultless. He had his own weak points ; although for a
character of such positive and strongly developed features,
they were neither numerous or offensive. Could we look at
him fi-om a different position, and analyze his character sim-
ply as a religious man, the justice of this remark would be
manifest. But we care not to look for defects amid so much
finely-developed, positive excellence. To him, and to the
people he led hither, the nation is indebted for lessons, illus-
trated by noble examples, which it becomes us to ponder
deeply. National history is one of the finest means of na-
tional discipline. The past thus embosoms the future ; it
sends down an influence that forms the atmosphere of thought
for succeeding generations, that insensibly works millions into
the same national lineaments, and creates a common life of
feeling, a unity of action, through the masses of a nation.
This means of national discipline, for a people springing but
yesterda,y into being, we possess in a most eminent degree.
Our antiquity is crowded with heroic ages, luminous with
heroic lives. Scarcely a colony was planted that does not
serve to illustrate the power of some important principle in
the Church or the State. Scarcely a generation has risen
that has not given birth to noble characters, whose peculiar-
ities evince the power and spirit of their age. But among
them all, the colony of Penn stands forth rich in its own his-
torical treasures, and strikingly peculiar in its great develop-
ments. While the character of Penn himself is certainly a
remarkable study, upon a canvas, every part of which is
studded with lives singularly great and worthy of an heroic
age.

It has been said that he lived a century too soon. To me
he seems to have lived just at the period which, of all others,
was best suited to his genius, and gave to his mind the broad-
est field for labor. There is a sense in which Huss, Jerome,
Copernicus, Koger Bacon and Raleigh, lived before their time.

WILLIAM PENN. 371

The world was not prepared for their theories in science, religion
and government. They died leaving their foot-prints on the
sea shore over which the ocean soon rolled ; while their names,
concealed for a time hy the moss and ivy of superstition and
ignorance, yet chiseled deep in the very front of the noble
temple of truth, live in the view of an age better able to ap-
preciate their character and do justice to their deeds. For
them a generation must arise, partaking of their sympathies,
before the rubbish will be removed from their names, and
their heroic lives will acquire their rightful influence. But
with Penn it was far otherwise. He lived at a period of his-
toiy of unparalleled interest, when the past and the future
were in conflict, when the chains of authority were loosened,
and society was a great caldron, where all opinions, all cus-
toms, mingled furiously without uniting ; when men thought,
wrote, spoke freely ; when new worlds were to receive their
form and impress from the few master minds ; when the doors
were thrown wide open to the panting victims of intolerance
of the grandest theater ever elaborated by time for founding
empires, for establishing novel political systems, for testing
theories that till then had only lived in the brains of students.
Penn appeared on the stage at such a time. • He was just the
man for such an age. With the heroism of a confessor, he
united the wisdom of a sage, and the enterprise of an adven-
turer. He lived just when and where a man of his stamp
could stretch the scepter of his influence farthest into the
future, and scatter over the richest soil the selectest seed of
the most noble principles. Put him at any other point in the
world's history, and he will seem out of place. He was fitted
to be the cotemporary of Sidney and Eussell, and Vane and
Milton, and Locke and Baxter, and the heroic founders of
New England. The Quaker preacher was the man for his
age. He lived not a year ^o soon ; he died not a day too
early. And from this fortunate union of the age and the
man, there have come forth results at once grand, pure and
abiding.

There is one lesson which the life of this noble man af-

372 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

fords, it well becomes the young men of our country to study.
Defective as his rehgious system is to me, yet I can not but
admire his fidelity to conscience. In whatever else he was
yielding, here he was firm as the rock. His convictions of
duty gave way to no considerations of pleasure, of wealth or
ambition. What he thought right he did, though all the
forces of the court and the hierarchy were arrayed against him.
Here he is truly sublime. And if you would select one trait
of his character most worthy of imitation, it should be this
independence in seeking for truth, and this fearless energy in
following out the convictions of an enlightened conscience.
This virtue is everywhere at home. It lies at the founda-
tion of all deep religious faith ; it is essential alike to a
well-balanced moral and religious character, its sphere of
influence is as wide as the circle of your life itself At
all times and in all places, party, interest, honor, pleasure,
contest the supremacy with conscience. To us the means
of satisfying an honest inquiry into the fundamental prin-
ciples of morals and religion are so accessible, that no
man need be in doubt respecting his course. Political
casuistry, commercial morality, social order, the healthful
discipline of the -mind and heart, are all tested and deter-
mined by a few simple principles in morals and religion. It
is over the application of these principles, Conscience sits as
the dictator. To maintain these truths in practice, demands
genuine independence and unbending decision. If you would
follow conscience, you must, at times, breast the perverse
currents of party, of the spirit of trade, and the customs of
society. But if your persevere, the very effort will develop
within you a marked, ingenuous and lofty character ; if you
jjersevere, though the partisan, whose only merit may be con-
sistency in eiTor, while his crime is treason to truth, should
brand you " traitor," though friends may frown and all things
seem joined in a conspiracy against your peace, yet be as-
sured that in the end, under the government of one whose
purpose it is finally to vindicate truth and virtue, as surely as
the sun shall rise after the darkest night, so surely will re-

WILLIAM PENN. 373

ligiori; justice, magnanimity and conscience triumph. The
name of the once disinherited Quaker is immortal. The
woods in yonder State, the key-stone of our glorious arch,
whisper it ; the stir and rattle of that great city whose streets
his hand traced, echo it ; the flaming forges of Pittsburg
blazon it ; the rumbling of ten thousand cars, bearing, from
the emboweled earth, the black combustible and sterling ore
— the physical elements of a nation's strength — proclaim it ;
while two millions of freemen cherish it, as did the ancient
Roman his household deity. There was indeed a time when
the young nation he created seemed to have forgotten him ;
when, could spirits reveal themselves, it needed no effort of
fancy to imagine his, fleeing from their capitol, with cheeks
crimsoned with indignation, and hands upraised in horror, at
the injustice, which under the guise of " Repudiation," struck
at those fundamental principles he would have died to main-
tain. When the flames wreathed themselves about that hall,
dedicated to independent discussion, and ushered in that dark
and bloody march of riot, which converted the city of " Broth-
erly Love" into an arena where fraternal discord and demoniac
passions held their jubilee, then, if any earthly transactions
could have reached him, would his rest have been disturbed.
Those times have gone by, we trust never to return. His
spirit may no more revisit the soil he loved ; but his nnme
and fame, the heritage of our common country, shall yet be
cherished in a nation's heart, and mentioned, with resjjectful
affection, by augmenting millions, as their peaceful anthems
swelling up in harmony with the thunders of the Atlantic and
rolling onward with the orb of day, shall at length peal along
the Rocky Mountains and mingle with the surges of yon vast
Western Sea.

374 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

WILLIAM PENN'S LETTER TO THE INDIANS.

"London, the 18th of the 8th month, 1681.

"My Friends, —

" There is a Great God and power, that hath made the
world and all things therein, to whom you and I and all peo-
ple owe their being and well-being ; and to whom you and I
must one day give an account for all that we do in the world :
this Great God hath written his law in our hearts, by which
we are taught and commanded to love and help, and to do
good to one another, and not to do harm and mischief unto
one another ; now this Great God hath been pleased to make
me concerned in your part of the world, and the king of the
country where I live hath given me a great province therein ;
but I desire to enjoy it with your love and consent, that we
may always live together as neighbors and friends ; else what
would the Great God do to us ? who hath made us not to
devour and destroy one another, but to live soberly and kindly
together in the world. Now I would have you well observe,
that I am very sensible of the unkindness and injustice that
hath been too much exercised towards you by the people of
these parts of the world, who have sought themselves, and to
make great advantages by you, rather than to be examples of
justice and goodness unto you, which I hear hath been mat-
ter of trouble unto you, and caused great grudgiugs and ani-
mosities sometimes to the shedding of blood, which hath made
the Great God angry. But I am not such a man, as is well
known in my own country ; I have great love and regard to-
ward you, and I desire to win and gain your love and friend-
ship by a kind, just, and peaceable life, and the people I send
are of the same mind, and shall in all things behave accord-
ingly ; and if in any thing any shall offend you, or your peo-
ple, you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the same,
by an equal number of just men on both sides, that by no
means you may have just occasion to be oifended against
them. I shall shortly come to you myself, at what time we

1

WILLIAM PENN. 375

may more largely and freely confer and discourse of these
matters ; in the meantime I have sent my commissioners to
treat with you about land, and a firm league of peace : let
me desire you to be kind to them and the people, and receive
these presents and tokens which I have sent you, as a testi-
mony of my good- will to you, and my resolution to live justly
peaceably, and friendly with you.

" I am your loving friend,

«W. PENN."

XI.

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY.*

In the free development of mind in this our countiy, the
anniversaries of our colleges and universities have grown to
be a power in the State. Passing beyond the reunions of old
friends, and the genial interchange of social courtesies be-
tween individuals gathered from various parts of the Union,
they have become the occasions for discussions not directly
connected with education — discussions of questions often wide
in their range and general in their character. Hundreds of
thousands of youth in the process of education, and of ma-
ture minds already in the field, are gathered annually to listen
to these addresses. A collection of them from year to year
would constitute the finest illusti-ation of the substantial
characteristics of the trained mind of the country. The sub-
jects they discuss, the spirit they breathe, the salient points
from which the eloquence coruscates and thrills, would re-
flect like a mirror the changing aspects of our national life.
Amidst a vast congeries of declamation, there would still be
found a vast amount of sound thought and eloquent discus-
sion— of thought that, penetrated by true emotion, entered as
a living and germinating force into many a soul ripe for its
reception.

But while all this is true of our colleges, it is curious to
observe how another kind of common law has grown into au-
thority in respect to our female seminaries. These have their
anniversary addresses as well as our colleges. But for some
reason, not always apparent, the speakers on these occasions

* An address delivered at the first anniversary of the Western Female Semi-
nary, at Oxford, Ohio, July 17, 1856.

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 377

have felt it incumbent on them to dwell on themes more im-
mediately connected with female education. Whether this
results from the fact that these institutions are comparatively
of modern growth among us, and their policy stands in need of
special vindication ; or whether it he due to an impression that
the audiences on these occasions have less sympathy with more
general themes, I know not. Certain it is we have had the
whole modus operandi of woman's education, and the various
aspects of woman's sphere dwelt upon and canvassed and illu-
minated so often and so largely, that the community have come
to regard it as a matter of course, that a speaker on such an
occasion as this shall tell us all he knows, and some things he
does not know — all he thinks and what he does not think
about woman and her development and her life. And while
there is no subject so lovely and so attractive to a man of sense
as tliis jjersonification of grace and beauty, yet we can not
help thinking that this perpetual harping on a single string,
however sweet its tone may be, and this narrowing down of
our anniversary discussions to a dissection of our ideal Eve, is
any thing but a compliment to the intelligence of those we
are called to address. Education, female education, in its
richest garb, its noblest, dignity, its purest ideal, lives and
moves before us to-day. There is an eloquence of emotion,
and an intelligence of thought, and a maturity of develop-
ment revealed on these countenances, that forbids my apol-
ogizing for the freedom I shall take in addressing you on a
theme that has no special relation to one sex more than the
other — a theme of common interest to the thoughtful, and
not inapjjropriate to these your literary festivities.

It is now more than three hundred years since John Cal-
vin founded the University of Geneva. This illustrious man
valued learning as the friend of revealed truth.

He disciplined the intellect, and prepared it to expatiate
over the field of earthly science, that when illuminated by
the higher science of revelation, and quickened by the life
of Christian faith, it might grapple understandingly with the
eiTors that assailed the Church of Grod. He never dreamed

378 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

that the science of nature in its profoundest teachings could
possibly be in any respect at variance with the science of rev-
elation. The latter indeed was the fuller, the richer unfold-
ing of God ; but it rose out of the former, as the branches,
leaves and fruit grow out of the trunk and the roots. It was
true that, revelation aside, there was, on the one hand, the
pride, the vain speculations, the unseemly arrogance and pre-
tension of science ; but, on the other, there was the credulity,
the folly, tlie debasement of ignorance. The first "toarshaled
the forces of skepticism, the second of superstition. If mere
learning puffed up, sheer ignorance prepared men to credit all
the monstrous conceits of an ill-regulated fancy ; and so when
taken by themselves they balanced each other, with this ex-
ception, that the former always led the latter. But when a
new force was introduced, the influence of which counter-
acted the incidental evils of science, and consecrated it to its
original purpose, then it was no longer a question whether
in preparing minds for the largest and the best influence,
that which so admirably trained the intellect should be
wisely used or wholly surrendered to the enemies of the
truth.

With such views Calvin laid the foundations of his uni-
versity. Some of the finest intellects adorned it as teachers,
or came forth from it as scholars. Beza and Turretin, Bon-
net and Necker, Beranger and Pictet illustrate its history ;
while hundreds of faithful pastors, as quiet laborers in the
ministry, or as confessors and martyrs in those fierce perse-
cutions which Rome kindled to consume the Protestantism
that threatened its existence, demonstrated the wisdom of its
founder. Wherever, since that time, Calvin's influence has
been deeply felt, there similar institutions have sprang into
existence.

Let us pass down the stream of time two centuries. An-
other reformation was stirring the stagnant waters of England.
Another reformer had arisen, whose name, like that of Cal-
vin, was destined to become a household word wherever the
English language is spoken. John Wesley, in the fullness of

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 379

his power, had begun to lay the foundations of a church
whose history, in its greatness, he could but imperfectly fore-
see. Himself thoroughly trained in the discipline of science,
he valued too highly the importance of learning, not to ap-
preciate its influence in the great movement he had, under
divine guidance, so successfully originated. His comprehen-
sive mind designed that the church then rising into life should
embrace within itself all the means of a thorough education.
He would not have it dependent on the gi*eat universities of
England, and so he founded at Kingswood — where Whitefield
preached to ignorant colliers his first field sermon on Rose
Mount, and afterward laid the corner stone of a school for
their children — an institution which he designed should be
not at all inferior, in its discipline and advantages, to Oxford
or Cambridge. It was no fault of Wesley's that his policy
in this respect was not immediately successful. It was im-
possible for any one man, however remarkable his talents, to
superintend the progress of a movement which daily outran
the expectations of even his sanguine spirit, and at the same
time give that constant and minute supervision absolutely es-
sential to the building up of a great university.

But the policy was wise, although in his time but imper-
fectly realized. That which he proposed in England, another
land was to see executed. Kingswood inaugurated the policy
which contemplated the complete independence of the Meth-
odist church for the means of a liberal education, but it was
in America this policy was destined to be fully tested. In
the institutions of learning already established in most of the
States of this confederacy, bearing his name on their portals,
we see the realization of the broad views and comprehensive
spirit of John Wesley.

I propose on this occasion to bring before you these great
men. Their name, their fame, their substantial greatness are
of no doubtful kind. Their influence at this hour flows on,
deep, strong, wide-spread. There are no two uninspired men
in all the past, whose genius, overpassing the limits of their
native land, is affecting more happily or more powerfully than

380 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

theirs the whole Protestant world. And I speak of them on
this occasion especially, because there was that in them which
in a high degree claims the study of the young. It has been
said that the proper study of man is man — a sentiment par-
tial, and therefore false. The proper study of mankind is
God ; and it is only as we study God in man that we are at
all elevated above human baseness. The men that are most
studied are those in whom ambition and lust reveal them-
selves amidst the light of genius. It is not man's original
powers and noble capacities that attract the student; it is
man as in obedience often to depraved passions he has acted a
conspicuous part in human affairs. The conqueror in his
robes of blood ; the statesman in his tortuous path of in-
trigue ; the poet, enshrining lust on a golden pedestal ; the
philosopher, the most conceited, the most blind of all, rearing
his ice-palaces on the crushed sensibilities of humanity ; these
are the gods our youth are taught to worship. Your Cgesars,
and Louis XIV., and Napoleons ; your Voltaires, and Pitts,
and Sheridans ; your Drydens, and Byrons, and Shelleys ;
your Spinosas, and Humes, and Kants, are the demi-gods of
history. Such men and their deeds are the study of our
youth ; and thus it happens that the devil in man, and that
which is most devilish in his doings, gilded over and com-
mended by the radiance of genius and the attraction of great
talents, form the staple of history. The pure, the true, the
spiritual ; the men whose hearts evince the power of a divine
influence in renovating their passions, and breathing into them
a sublime spirit of devotion to His will ; the men whose lives
have been the salt of the earth, and whose deeds have blessed
millions, are passed superciliously by ; their defects magnified
ungraciously ; their genius depreciated ; their deeds of love
and their influence of light rarely recognized, or more rarely
still, lauded. History has been intent unwittingly in fulfilling
divine prophecy. Gibbon, and Hume, and nine tenths of their
compeers, have fulfilled the words of Jesus, " If they have
hated me, they will hate you also."

Turning from the men most glorified in history, named

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 381

most approiniately profane, I invite you to view the cliarac-
ters of two men in whose lives you will find that which enno-
bles intellect and reflects most luminously the divine working
in man. And in order to present them before you in the short
time allotted to this exercise, permit me to state rapidly some
of the points of resemblance and difference between them.

First. These great men both sprang from the middle class
in society. Calvin's father was a notary in the ecclesiastical
court of Noyon, his native place, and secretary of the bishop.
He was possessed of a competency, but not of wealth. With-
out belonging to the nobility of France, he was yet on terms
of familiar intercourse with several of them. Wesley's father
was rector of the church at Epworth, and his mother the
daughter of one of the non-conforming Puritan ministers who
were ejected from their livings at the Restoration, when that
incarnation of hypocrisy, lust and folly, Charles II., ascended
the throne. The mothers of these men were women of fervent
faith, and their fathers men of strong, clear sense. They
came forth from that condition in society which has given to
the world the great majority of its ablest and most useful
minds. Neither poverty with its depressions, nor wealth with
its advantages is adajDted to nourish the largest thinkers and
the noblest workers. Out of the first now and then a mind
like that of Bunyan shines a star of the first magnitude ; out
of the second now and then a man Hke Wilbeiforce has suc-
ceeded in impressing himself upon his age. But in propor-
tion to the numbers of the first, and the privileges of the
second, such minds are rare. If the progress of the world
rested upon them alone, its advance would be slow, its history
soon written. It is that happier class who feel neither the
curse of deep poverty nor the enervation of great riches ; who
are under the necessity of useful employment sufficient to
quicken their energies, but who also cherish the independence
and ambition inspired by the consciousness that the paths of
affluence, of distinction, or of an healthful competence are
open before them ; who may not attain education without an
effort, but who nevertheless have early access to its advan-

382 HISTORICAL DISCOUESES AND ESSAYS.

tages — it is from this class, in the main, the profound think-
ers and the mighty actors in the world's history have come
forth. The sons of destitution and of affluence, whose names
shine brightly in the past, are solitary stars ; while the sons
of a healthful yet laborious competence form constellations
of glory in every part of the firmament.

Second. Calvin and Wesley were men of commanding
intellect. They differed, as I shall presently show, in their
mental structure, but both of them were possessed of rare
original endowments. Great minds may remain undeveloped
from the absence of the occasions necessary to reveal them.
But minds that, amidst scenes demanding gi-eat power in
their chief actors, have shown themselves equal to such emer-
gencies, have thereby received the stamp of greatness. Deeds
demonstrate the reality of great original powers. The world
recognizes greatness only as it reveals itself in action, and the
deeds of these men have long attested to friends and foes their
consummate power. We admit the necessity of circumstances
to develop the original capacity ; but we also affirm that all the
circumstances that ever were combined together never devel-
oped greatness out of inherent feebleness, or made him truly
gi-eat whom God had not first capacitated by his gifts for the
exhibition of high qualities. No feeble hand reared the pyra-
mids ; no limited capacity ruled the British senate for twenty
years, during the fearful conflict with the French at the close
of the last, and the opening of the present century ; no lim-
ited intellect framed the Institutes or wrote the Commentaries
of Calvin, or began and consolidated the reformation which
gave birth to the Methodist church.

And with these great powers, both of these men received
a fervid temper a^nent — an active, earnest spirit, which ever
impelled to labor ; which made effort a joy, and nerved them
to the most continuous and persevering toils. They vrere not
men who could sit down at their ease. The '"'■ fervida mens"
was a living impulse that compelled the putting forth of their
extraordinary powers. The restless energy of their original
natures made thought and labor in some direction a necessity.

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 383

If they had not been in the ministry, they were men of such
an active temperament that they would have been conspicuous
actors in some of the fields of worldly renown. Th(5y might
have been leading statesmen, mighty warriors, agitators and
chiefs in the conflicts of human society ; but drones and slug-
gards, content to hide in obscurity and bury their talents,
they could never have been. Had they been farmers or me-
chanics or merchants or politicians, the world might not have
heard of them ; their names might not have echoed from con-
tinent to continent ; millions might not have looked back to
them with veneration and love ; but in their own circle their
vehement spirits upbearing their native gifts, would have
made them men of mark.

Third. Calvin and Wesley, neither of them, were com-
pelled to limit themselves to an inferior sphere of action by
the conscious loant of intellecUial training. They enjoyed the
finest education which their ages afforded. They were both
students from childhood. Calvin pursued a wide range of
study in all the branches of a liberal education. He studied
Latin under Corderius, the best grammarian of his time. He
studied law Avith Wolmar, the ablest jurisprudist of the age.
At twenty-one, he was pronounced by Scaliger the most
learned man in all Europe. Wesley, at Oxford, ran through
the cuiTiculum of that university with great success. He
was master of half a .dozen languages ; and it was from the
unique position of a Fellow of Lincoln College that he was
able to expatiate as a minister of the Church of England over
the whole British empire.

Now this is a significant fact in the qualification of these
men for their peculiar work. Great talents are found here
and there in all classes of society, and though undisciplined,
they may yet be capable of effecting great things in some di-
rections. But the greatest works in human progress it is not
given them to perform. Wesley found a vast amount of latent
talent among the uneducated, and in the progress of his work
he took measures to develop and use it for a most noble pur-
pose. But among aU the men he thus called out, there was

384 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

not one who could have taken his place or jjerformed his work.
And so it is in all history. Thorough mental discipline is
nothing more than the just development of the intellect, pro-
ducing that mental balance which enables a man to look all
round his subject, and prosecute his work with the finest in-
struments to the end. And this discipline, however it may
have been acquired, whether under the disadvantages of pri-
vate study, persistently mastering the difficulties which ob-
struct and guard the ascents to the heights of power, or with
the aid of tutors and professors, doing the same thing — is the
essential condition of the accomplishment of the greatest and
most useful works of man. The exceptions are rare indeed.
Enthusiasm may do much ; native talent may do much ; a
gift for some special work may effect much ; but enthusiasm
and talent and peculiar aptitude can do vastly more when they
are aided by the discipline of a thorough education. In say-
ing this, I do not say that a college education or a private
education is the best mode of attaining this discipline. Some
men are better educated in one way, and others in another.
But the thing itself is that which all men, who are to act a
great part and effect a lasting work, must attain. Calvin and
Wesley started at this high elevation, and from it they have
sent forth an influence which lives to this time.

FourtJi. Calvin and Wesley were equally distinguished
by the most fervent piety. Their devotion to the cause of
their Master was simple and profound. Calvin, early in his
study of the ScrijDtures, saw and embraced the truth. Up to
that time he had before him first, a brilliant career in the
Romish church, and then an equally brilliant prosjDCct in the
law. But when the light of Christ's truth entered his soul,
he gave himself wholly to the proclamation of this truth to
his fellow-men. In the Papal church he might have been
bishop, cardinal, pope, and sat on the loftiest eminences of
ecclesiastical power. He might have risen at court to the
most august positions that Francis had in his gift. No man
of that age, untitled, and sjiringing from the middle class,
had prospects more brilliant for a successful worldly career.

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 385

Riches, honor, fjime, pleasure, robed in their most attractive
graces, assailed his heart. But when once he had emerged
from the darkness of a soul struggling under the burden of
its sins, and the j^eace of a living faith had entered his heart,
then he flung them from him, as the rock dashes back the
spray of the ocean. Henceforth he coveted no honor but that
of serving Jesus. He endured persecution, he embraced pov-
erty, he consented to be an exile from the land he dearly
loved, he stood forth a simple-minded and humble cunfes-
sor of Christ. He bathed his soul daily in the living light
of God's ])ure truth. His experience became a transcript
from the life that breathed and glowed in the precious vol-
ume which, with a rapturous enthusiasm, he embraced in his
heart. This is the secret of his power. He had power with
God ; he lived in constant communion with the author of all
power. His whole life was a protracted vigil, an incessant
sacrifice, a perpetual incense of prayer and praise. He who
might have enjoyed princely revenues, died worth less than
two hundred dollars ; and over his grave, by his express in-
junction, no stone was raised to mark the resting-place of the
mortal remains of one of the greatest and most devoted of
Christ's servants.

Wesley, too, early in his career, entered the service of his
Master. He too had before him honor and competency in the
Church of England. But when he heard the call of duty, he
gave liimself with all his heart to a work that involved oppo-
sition, persecution and poverty. How he lived as a burning
light of faith, through what conflicts he passed, and came
forth stronger in the Lord ; how the peace of God dwelt in
his heart ; how he gathered strength from on high ; how he
who made many rich, and reared for Christ chapels all over
England, died at last worth not more than the Genevan Ke-
former, is known to you all.

These great men embraced the same fundamental truths,
drank daily at the same fountain of living water, walked by the
light of tlie same ever-burning lamp, embraced the same rich
and all-sufficient promises, rejoiced in the same assurance of

25

386 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

divine forgiveness, breatlied the same spirit of compassion for
a world in sin, were conscious of the same personal inability
to effect any thing of themselves, illustrated the same enthusi-
astic consecration of all their powers to the service of their
light royal Prince, and died supported by the same triumph-
ant faith.

Fifth. These Reformers were illustrations of the most
extraordinary diligence and persevering labor to effect the
sa-me great object. The world has never seen more marked
examples of the old Roman maxim — "totus in illis." Cal-
vin, in consequence of his severe application in youth, carried
with him into public life a body radically diseased, and a
ruined constitution. The tabernacle in which he dwelt
swayed to and fro with every breeze. Instead of supporting
the soul, it seemed as if nothing but the indomitable energy
of this active spirit kept it from falling to pieces. It was as
if the hands of a giant constantly propped up the tottering
edifice. In spite of this incessant fight with disease, he bore
himself amid the most gigantic labors like a bodiless spirit.
He preached every day during each alternate week ; thrice a
week he gave lectures in theology ; he presided in the consis-
tory every Thursday ; every Friday at the meeting for scrip-
tural discussion, held in St. Peter's church, he delivered almost
a complete lecture. When it was not his turn to preach, he
had his books brought him at five or six in the morning, and
dictated to an amanuensis. He carried on a most extensive
correspondence with leading minds all over Europe. He
wrote some forty volumes of Commentaries, Institutes, and
Controversial Tracts. For a quarter of a century, from the
time he came to Geneva till he died, he knew no recreation ;
he bent all his mighty energies, amid opposition the most
violent, and great physical weakness, toward the single object
of making known to men the whole Word of God.

Wesley, generally blessed with health, and engaging in a
course of life eminently favorable to its preservation, exhibits
a like unity of purpose, and unconquerable energy in its ex-
ecution. He traveled yearly over four thousand miles, chiefly

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 387

on horseback. He preached, during his fifty years of minis-
terial labor, more than forty thousand sermons. He denied
himself the pleasures of literature, of which he was passion-
ately fond, to carry out this extraordinary programme of
labor. His eye was upon all parts of Great Britain. His
lines of travel networked the kingdom. He threw aside
every thing that did not bear immediately or remotely upon
the successful prosecution of his great work. His energy ex-
tended to the last hour of his life, and after fourscore years
had j)assed over him, he pursued, with unintermittcd zeal,
the same course. And it was not until the wheel at the cis-
tern ceased to revolve, that this noble labor for Christ and
His cause reached its end. Well might these holy men, as
they looked back over their varied and incessant toils, ex-
claim, "per varios casus, per tot discrimina reric77i, tendi-
mtis in coelum." Their prodigious toils, their unity of pur-
pose, their entire consecration of life to its great work, have
few parallels in history.

Sixth. Calvin and Welsey locre truly representative men,
and as such fitted to mold and direct the minds of others.
The ideas which move society lie confused and feebly appre-
ciated in the multitude. It is only here and there, a mind
capable of seizing them, of giving them form and life, of in-
tensifying and impersonating them before the world. Such
a mind represents in itself the wants, and the ideas that fill
up the wants of men. It does not create the want, that ex-
ists already. It does not originate the idea, for that is al-
ready existing, and is partially revealed ; but it feels in itself,
and attains the full consciousness of what the want is. It
seizes hold of the truth which this want demands, and meets
its necessities. It has power to bring forth this truth, so
that as the want is felt, multitudes shall recognize it as the
very truth they have hungered for, have confusedly thought
of, and dimly apprehended. Then this soul stands forth as
the embodiment of the feelings and views of the masses. And
as it thus appears, it has power to propagate the same ideas
in various directions. It becomes a quickener as well as a

388 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

guide. It moves as well as enliglitens. It discovers the
deeper wants of otliei' souls, and makes them sensible of their
real necessities. It pours into their minds the very thoughts
which are mighty to rouse the stupid, and elevate the debased
to its own level. Such men God has made great — great in
fe-eling, great in intellect, great in tact, great in eifcctive
action, and therefore great in influence. Calvin was such a
man. He knew the want, the real feeling, that moved the
souls of men ; and with surprising intuition, he grasped the
truth adapted to meet that want, that would commend itself
to those who felt thus, and lead .them forth into the liberty
of the sons of Grod. Behold ! how, to this day, he stands
forth as the representative of the. feelings and views, and no-
blest aspirations of millions ! how his words have quickened
and guided vast multitudes ! how in him they find the vivid
personiiication of just those eternal ideas which elevate, and
satisfy, and bless their souls !

Wesley, too, was such a man. As he felt, as he thought,
millions feel, millions think. Striking in another direction,
standing in another position, occupying a somewhat different
field of thought, yet with what power did he work, how
boldly did he represent what he thought and felt, how vividly
did he impress himself, as the impersonation of their views
and feelings, upon multitudes ! Who is there to this day that
more fully, more justly, or more vividly represents in himself
the character of the Methodist church, than John Wesley ?

Seventh. Calvin and Wesley ivere leader's in the two most
imjwrtant reformations in the history of the Church, and
both of them founded distinct ecclesiastical systems. When
Calvin came upon the stage of public life, the great Reforma-
tion of the sixteenth century had already commenced. Luther,
its great orator, and the grandest figure in the assemblage
of great minds that adorned and illustrated that age, had
reached the zenith of his power. The Reformers had pro-
nounced their emphatic protest at Sjjires, against the tyran-
nical decision of Charles — a protest against spiritual despot-
ism, which we rejoice to wear as our crown of glory, our

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN V/ E S L E Y . 389

grand distinctive name, a name which tells the story of the
Eeformation for all time. At Augsburg, Melancthon had
presented his great Confession of the truth as it is in Jesus.
But, as yet, the whole reform movement was desultory and
unconsolidated. Theii Calvin, a mind of another, in some
respects a higher order, appeared. At once he takes his jilace
as the. theologian of the Reformation. He is acknowh dged
as the man lor the time. He is elevated to the position of
chief by the voice of all the Protestant world outside of Ger-
many. Luther had quickened the slumbering millions. His
clarion rang all over Europe, as the voice of God. The
Romish church, a vast edifice, reared by the toil of centuries,
began to crumble. That mighty word, " the just shall live
by faith," as it thundered over the continent, shook down
the altar, the images, the proud cathedrals. Then came the
builder. Then arose the architect, who out of these ruins
was to rear, in beautifiil and solid proportions, the form of
Christ's living church. That architect was Calvin. He con-
solidated, he systematized, he planned, for the upbuilding of
a church, that in its simplicity, and unity, and apostolic vigor,
should stand for ages the mightiest bulwark against the power
of Rome, the most efficient propugnator of the truth. His
ideas penetrated Germany, and aided in the construction of
the Lutheran church. In France, in Switzerland, in Hol-
land, in Scotland, they entered and wrought with greater
power. In England, though modified and resisted, they yet
exerted a vast influence. His ecclesiastical system has spread
itself abroad, reviving and consolidating the spirit of liberty
among the great majority of the Protestant world, and carry-
ing the power of republicanism into this, then almost un-
known land.

When Wesley entered Lincoln College, the Church in
England had sunk into a state of profound stupidity ; mul-
titudes of the people were as ignorant of Christianity as ever
they were under the papal rule. The young men at Oxford,
who formed the first circle for prayer, were a strange, an
anomalous class of beings. But from that prayer-room the

390 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

light of piety was destined to go forth again, till it should
illumine that whole island, and kindle anew the flame of
Christian love in this western world. Of that reformation,
whose vital power has since been felt all through the estab-
lished Church of England, Whitefield was the great orator.
He moved upon the hearts of men with the power of a divine
inspiration. He j)assed from continent to continent, a blaze
of living light and love. Wherever he went, men crowded
around the cross. Such eloquence, so pure, so lofty, in a
cause so holy, attended everywhere with such demonstrations
of power above the art of man, the Church had never heard
since apostolic days.

Charles Wesley was the sweet singer of this reformation.
His poetic genius, inflamed with the love of Christ, gave to
the Church the choicest gems of art. He sang not as one
who is quickened by the admiration of natural beauty, not
as one fired by earthly passions, and enshrining in forms of
loveliness the corrupt breathings of a worldly heart ; but as
one whose spirit had been bathed in the silvery light of a
better world, whose emotions had been entranced by celestial
visions, in whose heart the love of Christ had quickened all
that was most pure, most noble, most heavenly. And thus
his lyrics have been the breathing of piety for millions ; the
eaarle wind's, on which humble and contrite souls have soared
upward to the throne where the Lamb sitteth, where angels
and saints on that sea of glass ever worship.

But Wesley — John Wesley — had still a higher mission
than either of these. If Whitefield was a Demosthenes, John
Wesley was an Alexander ; if Whitefield was a Cicero, John
W^esley was a Ceesar — a Caesar not to gain bloody empire,
not to marshal rapacious legions to slaughter, but to organize
and discipline the hosts of Israel for conflict with the woidd.
It was given him, not only to quicken by his bold and manly
eloquence, multitudes of the ignorant fi-om the sleep of death,
but to lead them into green pastures, to fold them in safety,
to originate and consolidate that church which for one hun-
dred years has been distinguished, alike for the vigor of its

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WE, S LEY. 391

piety and the energy vvitli which it has assailed the powers
of darkness, and preached the redemption of Jesus to the
poor in that land and in this. Calvin and Wesley ! behold
them both ! each, in the reformation of their own time, origi-
nating systems ecclesiastical, giving form to churches, that
not as rivals, but as co-workers, have accomplished such won-
ders for Jesus.

Without carrying further the parallel between these men,
permit me to mention only the fact that they were not fault-
less. They were neither of them guiltless of mistakes and
errors which their enemies in after times have seized upon to
reflect dishonor upon their memories. Calvin, emerging from
the Papacy, in common with all the reformers, however com-
pletely he may have divested himself of the costume, could
not at once wholly emancipate himself from the subtle spirit
which had penetrated the very bones of men. What wonder
was it if, amid the heat of that fierce conflict, they did not at
once see the full bearing of those great principles of liberty
which they had established, and could not, amid the wild
confusion of the time, give to the winds that maxim of the
Catholic church which makes it the duty of the State to inflict
temporal penalties upon men who grossly assail the truths of
religion ? More than a century and a half passed away be-
fore the Protestant church fiirly ascended to its present plat-
form of religious liberty. It rose to this eminent position in
virtue of those very ecclesiastical principles which Calvin him-
self firet fairly saw and unfolded. Bacon believed many
things which belonged rather to the state of knowledge in his
day. But the principles of Bacon have carried science for-
ward to its present high position. And Koger Williams,
when he began in Rhode Island the total separation of the
Church from the State, was but acting as a consistent disciple
of the G-enevan Reformer.

So Wesley, emerging from the formalism of his age, at
first did things which in after life he was compelled to disown,
and partisan opponents, fastening upon his errors of judg-
ment, deny to him the privilege of learning new truths from

392 HISTOKICAL DISCOUESES AND ESSAYS.

the providence of God, and would fain compel him to be as
ignorant at sixty as he was at thirty years of age.

The misjudgments of these great men, in point of fact,
are neither vital to their systems nor their piety. They fall
off from them as time advances, and leave their true greatness
in all its symmetry and grandeur. So have I seen the gallant
ship that had traversed the world of waters, had visited trop-
ical seas, and penetrated the frozen north, and borne itself
bravely amidst the tempests that sweep the main, return
home with sails rent and discolored and her keel loaded with
the shells she had gatliered in every clime, while yet the heart
of oak was still sound and her masts were all firm, and after
the lapse of a few days in port, she stood forth strong and
free to battle with the ocean and the storm. And thus it is
with those whose gi'eatness has its seat in God. These men
of might, their defects and misjudgments fallen from them,
still live in all the purity of their characters, the power of
their principles, and the grandeur of their illustrious exam-
. pies ; and so they will live for ever.

But it is time that I j)ass from these analogies, and pre-
sent before you some of those points in which these minds
just as strikingly differed from each other.

And first, you ivill perceive a contrast in the original
structure and movement of their minds. Calvin was remark-
able among all the men of his time for dejith and grasp upon
the principles that underlie the forms of truth. He pene-
trated into the heart of his subject. He possessed that philo-
sophic power which, not content with the first view, held a
jiroposition before the eye until it was resolved into its ori-
ginal elements. Words and formulas were to him as nothing.
He sought the ultimate idea which only a full and protracted
analysis could reach ; and then from that, as from a rock, he
built up the system of truth in all its relations and lofty pro-
portions. This was the original power that constituted him
the theologian of the Reformation. This lifted him above
his celebrated compeers, and made him a teacher for all the
ages to come. This qualified him to write those Institutes

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY, 393

which time has made immortal. This fitted him to pene-
trate the sjiirit and hidden meaning of the sacred writers, and
stamped his Commentaries with that impress of truth which
compels modern philology, with all its advance in the mere
machinery of interpretation, to recognize in him an almost
inspired teacher.

Wesley, on the other hand, did not at all excel in this
philosophic penetration. His ardent mind seized at once
upon a proposition, without caring to look below the form
in which it was expressed. His conceptions were intuitive.
His quick eye saw at a glance the general aspects of truth.
He did not hold the truth before him till it was resolved into
a final analysis. He knew not how to penetrate to the root
and then trace out the tree along its trunk and branches, till
in its full and noble proportions it lifted itself far up into the
sky. He lingered among the branches and was satisfied to
take the tree as others had developed it. He was a capital
disputant. He knew all the forms of logic. He was a prac-
ticed athlete in the arena of controversy, and woe to that man
who aspired to wrestle with him for victory. He penetrated
at once the false premises of an adversary, and dragged it
forth from amidst the verbiage which concealed it from view.
At the bar he would have won eminence as a pleader in the
contest with the greatest lawyers of his time. But this veiy
power of argument, springing as it did from the rapidity of
his perceptions, was adverse to that coolness and deliberation
which alone prepare the mind to penetrate the ultimate ideas
that form the basis of all profound truth. In this respect he
was vastly inferior to Calvin, The latter was like Burke or
Webster, the expounder of constitutions, the enunciator of .
j^rinciples, and gifted with a grand, a majestic eloquence that
illuminated all it touched, and was fitted for the unfolding
of truth that should affect and mold after generations, Wes-
ley resembled Fox in the power of direct argument, and our
own Clay in the popular character of his eloquence.

But this very difference made each of these men the man
for his time. When Calvin came upon the stage, it was in

394 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

theology especially that a master mind was needed. That
was the time for instruction, for consolidation, for systema-
tizing truth, for building up the system of Christian doctrine
a:nd discipline divested of the falsities and glosses which ages
of darkness had heaped upon and around it. For this pro-
found and noble work such a mind was originally constituted,
and appearing at that time it did its work most nobly — as-
cending into those higher forms of thought with consummate
ease, striking directly into the heart of the system of truth,
carrying its appeal to the thinkers of the world with an un-
surpassed power.

But when Wesley came upon the stage, the field of Prot-
estant theology had been traversed for two hundred years by
stalwart intellects. Turretin, Baxter, Owen, Charnock, Howe,
and others of kindred genius, had given to the Church those
tomes of Christian doctrine which form the proudest monu-
ment in the history of the Protestant church. It was not in
the field of theology that the work of that time was to be
done. The Church herself lay stupid and dead amidst the
forms of trutli. The articles and confessions of the churches
still remained as compact and harmonious as before, not a line
wanting, not a stone shaken out of its place. The temple of truth
rose majestically ; but, alas ! the men who thronged its aisles
and sounding corridors were blind and stiff. The fire on the
altar smoldered in its ashes. The swelling chant, the sublime
confession, the loud response still echoed along its arches ;
but the wail of the burdened sinner, and the glad symphony
of hearts filled with the love of Christ, and the eloquent ap-
peal of apostolic men to souls crowding the broad road, had
died away. It was the time for the soul filled with the love
of God to startle the slumbering pastors and the stupid peo-
ple from their dreams. That was the time for a man of bold
and stirring eloquence, of direct and popular argumentation,
to bring all his resources to the work of rekindling the fire on
this dishonored altar, and chasing with scorpion lash the pro-
fane intruders from the temple of God. John Wesley was
that man. His ardent soul fired with new-born love, his in-

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 395

tellect rapid and clear, his power of direct argumentation and
ad hominem appeal, his bold and eloquent manner, his mas-
tery of those simple ideas which do most execution with the
popular mind, his uncompromising principles and indomita-
ble zeal, interpenetrated and glowing with the mingled love
and faith of an humble Christian, qualified him above all
men of his time for carrying forward this new reformation,
and proclaimed him the man set apart of God as his elect in-
strument for the renovation of his age.

And holding this same idea of adaptation in view, you
will see how these men, Calvin and Wesley, in another par-
ticular difference, each excelled in his own way. Calvin ivas
not gifted ivith tnucli tact in the majiagement of men. Con-
fined to Geneva, he had more than he could do to hold in
check the wild passions of the masses in that provincial town.
It was not his province, nor his work, to pass from town to
town and impress himself upon the boisterous multitude.
Farel here was vastly his superior. Farel was the White-field
of Switzerland. His eloquence fell peal after peal upon the
hearts of men like the artillery of the skies. It was Calvin's
work to enunciate great principles, which other minds grasp-
ing firmly, should spread abroad, and with them mold the
people. He addressed himself to the thoughtful, and through
them he moved the masses. His range of thought was too
elevated for the great majority. He was indeed eloquent in
his way. St. Peter's was thronged for years to listen to his
expositions of Christian truth. But his eloquence was of
that weighty and solid character which the more thought-
ful chiefly appreciate. It was the majestic flow of a deep
river, which traversed vast regions, and spread itself abroad
fertilizing innumerable fields, the greatness of which the
dwellers on its banks did not at once understand. He fed a
thousand reservoirs, himself unseen. He cared not to come
in direct contact with men. His study was his home, and his
pulpit his throne. His words were not spoken alone for the
hundreds that listened to him. Those students who hung
upon his. lips were to go forth, through France and Switzer-

396 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

land, proclaiming the truth this gi-eat master had taught.
Those theological prelections and luminous commentaries
were to enter the studies of other men, and in England, Scot-
land, and all over the Continent, were to speak through them
to the people. Such was his work.

But Wesley had a work to eifect directly upon the popu-
lar mind, and through it to quicken pastors and revive an in-
terest in those same truths which Calvin had taught so suc-
cessfully. The whole process must be reversed. The fire
must he kindled at the bottom, and spread itself upward
through the already prepared materials. He must begin with
outcast colliers, with the most brutish and ignorant of the
populace. He is to kindle a flame of Christian love, out un-
der the broad arch of heaven, in those hearts to which Chris-
tianity was but a name — a flame that should ascend until the
worshipers in stately cathedrals felt its warmth, and bishops
and archbishops recognized anew the mission of the ministry
of Jesus. He was to organize a church and give it pastors,
and frame its laws, and bind it together as a compact, self-
existent, living, self-perpetuating organism of religion. And
for this work Grod gave him a special tact in the management
of men. He could look a mob into silence. He quelled a
riot with a word. The shake of his hand made the most fe-
rocious leaders of the wild, roaring populace his fast friends.
His knowledge of character was intuitive. He rarely ever
failed in his judgment of men. He detected talent, and gave
it a place to reveal itself. His preachers grew up around him,
a band of noble, self-sacrificing, docile co-workers. He was
capacitated for government, and he displayed on the wide
field of his itineracy, as consummate powers of generalship as
Pitt or Napoleon ever exhibited in the conduct of Parliament
or the marshaling of armies.

With such marked differences in their original jjowers,
these men contrasted equally in the actual tvoi'khig out of
their course. Calvin started with settled principles. His
plans were all thoroughly digested, and philosophically ar-
ranged at tlie commencement. The elements of his theology

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 397

were iDublished before he went to Geneva, and tliougli lie
vastly improved and amplified them, yet his views never were
altered. The original treatise is incorporated just as it was
written, in the last and perfect edition. His system of church
government was fully settled at the beginning of his public ca-
reer. The fundamental principles which characterize his sys-
tem and his after works, were early and unalterably estab-
lished. His life was but the filling up of this system. He
wrought outward and upward from this firm foundation. He
encountered difiiculties at every step. Opponents swarmed
on all sides. He became the target for the shafts of Liber-
tines, Anabaptists, Socinians, Papists, yet he never wavered.
He held the truth with a giant hand high above the waves.
He sent it forth to the world in new forms, but it was the
same substantial thought.

Wesley, on the other hand, began without any regular
plan. He was a Fellow of Oxford, and a rigid churchman,
without the remotest thought of originating a new church
organization. Schism was full of horror. He only knew that
God had called him to preach the gospel, and preach it he
would. If the churches were closed against him, he would
go forth into the fields. If the rich and the great frowned
upon him, he would proclaim the glad tidings to the ignor-
ant. And so he went on step by step, diverging from the
establishment, planning this and then that to meet the emer-
gencies as they rose, taking something from the Moravians,
and seizing hold of some idea which the ^^rogress of the cause
presented to him, and combining them all with admirable
tact to effect his purpose, until, before he realized it, he had
actually established a church outside of that of which he was
an ordained minister. He followed the divine hand, and it
led him where he once thought it imj)ossible he should have
gone. And so, at length, there grew uj) the firm and consist-
ent framework of the Methodist church, and hundreds of
preachers, and thousands of communicants, looked to him as
their earthly father and head.

You will bear with me while I state another point of dif-

398 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

ference in our Reformers. Calvin had a tender and loving
heart. He loved his friends with a greatness corresponding
to his profound nature. The man who attached to him in
the bonds of sweetest earthly affection such men as Farel, and
Beza, and Melancthon, could have had in him nothing sour,
morose, malignant. No man loved the Church, and all who
bore the character of his Master, more ardently than he. Of
all the Reformers, he labored with the greatest earnestness to
compose the differences that then began to distract the Prot-
estants— he, of all men, felt most deeply, most painfully, the
divisions among the leaders of the elect host. In the great
controversy, " De CJmna," which divided the Lutheran and
the Reformed, he stood midway, and struggled for long years
to unite the parties on a common platform : and had he pos-
sessed the tact in managing men that distinguished John
Wesley, in all probability that unhappy division, which ar-
rested the progress of the Reformation, and turned the amis
of the Reformers against each other, and so gave the papal
party time to recover from its confusion, would have ceased
to exist. But with all this tender and loving nature, Calvin
was irascible and easily excited. He hated error with all the
power of his soul, and when he saw what he deemed the truth
of Grod assailed, he came forth in its defense, and with a two-
edged sword clave error and errorist to the earth. He early
lost a wife, whom he loved most tenderly. His only child
died in infancy. His physical pains, which made his life a
constant scene of suffering, tended to augment the excitable-
ness of his nature. In these circumstances, deprived of those
domestic enjoyments which God hath appointed to soothe our
spirits in the hour of trial, he was called upon to fight with
men of most malignant spirit, and to refute errors of the most
destructive character. What wonder is it, if he, like Luther,
should sometimes have failed to discriminate between the er-
ror and the man who held it ? Yet with all this, or in spite
of all this, his piety shone out so transcendently, that those
who knew him best, loved him most. The Council of Geneva
express his character in their resolutions after his death, in

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 399

one word — majesty — a great intellect pervaded and guided by
a truly great and pious heart.

Wesley, on the other hand, was naturally amiable. It
was easy for him to love. The grace needful to make one
Calvin such as he was, was sufficient, speaking 'more humano,
to make half a dozen John Wesleys such as he was. He
knew little of disease. In fine health — his mind constantly
diverted by the round of new scenes, successful beyond his
hopes in the great work to which he was called, not of neces-
sity exposed to that kind of controversy which most excites
indignation and anger, his amiable spirit had full and free
play. In him piety revealed itself in the form of love. In
Calvin it showed its greatness in the form of duty — obedience.
In both, despite their faults, it shone forth with uncommon
brilliancy.

Let us dwell for a moment on the closing scenes of these
two sublime lives. It is Easter Sabbath, the 2d of April,
1564. On this day the church of Geneva were wont to cele-
brate the supper with unusual solemnity. We enter St.
Peter's. The magnificent edifice is thronged in every part.
By the dim light that streams through the stained windows
in the distant choir, the preparations for the communion ser-
vice are visible. The plain table with its snow-white cover-
ing, its sacramental vessels, the simple bread and wine, tell the
whole story of the Reformation, and proclaim the overthrow
of the idolatrous Mass. On either side of it the ministers of
the gospel are seated, and behind them the grave senators of
this young republic. No priestly miter, nor ducal coronet,
nor royal escutcheon is visible in that house of prayer. The
same power that banished the altar and the image has cast
down the flaming symbols of spiritual and temporal des-
potism.

A deep and oppressive silence is upon the vast assembly.
It is obvious to even a stranger that this is no common occa-
sion. The gravity, the intense solemnity, the sad and tearful
aspect of the multitude indicate the expectation of an un-
usual scene. At length there is a slight rustling at the great

400 HISTORICAL DISCOUKSES AND ESSAYS. '

central door. A wave of excitement passes over the whole
assembly — the throng parts — slowly a pale, emaciated form is
borne up the broad nave, and placed immediately before the
communion table. That massive head, that dark eye burning
with celestial light, that spiritual aspect full of calm majesty
and radiant with hope, proclaim the presence of one of the
greatest and noblest of men. It is John Calvin's last com-
munion. The service commences — Beza is the preacher.
The learned and faithful colleague of Calvin, revering him
as a father, and walking in the light of his instructions as in
the purest and brightest reflection of divine truth, sj^eaks on
this day as one inspired and looking uj)ward to the open
vision of the supper of the Lamb. He descends from the pul-
pit, and, advancing to the table, begins the simple yet solemn
sacramental service. He confesses the sins of the people ; he
gives thanks to God for the love that gave his Son a sacrifice
for us ; he invokes the divine benediction upon the sacred
emblems and those about to partake thereof. Then breaking
away from the usual formula, he bears on his heart him who
so long had preached in that house, ai^d who had there been
a spiritual father to so many souls — whose words had gone
forth as a message from the throne to millions in other lands,
now for the last time on earth about to commemorate the
death of his Lord. The sight of that emaciated countenance,
the sermon full of tenderness, the prayer burdened with emo-
tion that choked the utterance, have profoundly stirred the
he-art of the assembly. Then, as he presents to his revered
and beloved friend and father the simple elements, the sym-
pathy becomes too deep for restraint ; sobs, in vain sup-
pressed, burst forth. Tears unbidden flow from eyes unused
to weep. Old men and strong men who saw him as in his
early prime he first entered that house — who knew what Ge-
neva was then, and see in contrast what through his labors
it is now, bow their heads and weep that they shall see him
no more. Young men and maidens whom he had bajotized
and instructed — whose hearts had been led to Christ under
his ministry, are filled with unutterable sadness at the pros-

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 401

j)ect of his departure. Some whose vices he had reproved
and whose hatred he had won, stand awe-struck and smitten,
as if ah-eady the great Judge had passed sentence upon them.
Not a heart in that vast assembly is indifferent — not one that
does not feel that the chief glory, the brightest light of their
city is about to set. Amidst sobs and tears, group after group
approach and retire from that sacred table, until all liave par-
taken. Then with a subdued utterance they sing the clos-
ing hymn. In a tremulous voice, yet with a look of joy
irradiating his dying countenance, Calvin joins in its solemu
strain :

" Now let thy servant, Lord \

At length depart in peace ;
According to thy word,

My waiting soul release.
For thou my longing eyes hast spared,
To see thy saving grace declared.
To see thy saving grace.

That soon dispensed abroad,
The nations shall embrace.

And find their help in God ;
A light to lighten every land,
The glory of thy cliosen band."*

And so he passes out of that sacred place, never again to
enter it, and is borne to his own home. A few days later a
solemn procession moves from the town hall to Calvin's dwell-
ing. It is the council about to hear his final instructions
and take leave of him for ever. Soon after the ministers as-
semble to look upon him once more, and the aged Farel, now
past fourscore, travels to Geneva to take the hand of his for-
mer colleague ere the heavens should receive him. With ad-
mirable simplicity and appropriateness he gives them all his
final counsels, and commends them affectionately to the care
of his heavenly Father. Then with the peace and joy of
anticipated life in his heart, without a struggle or a sigh, just

* Baird's " Eutaxia," to which the author is indebted for the hymn and a
part of this description.

26

402 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

when the shadows of coming night darkened over Lake Le-
man, while still the pinnacles of the Alps that towered above
liis dwelling, shone in the calm light of the setting sun, this
noble soul passed from the darkness of earth to join Melanc-
thon and Luther in that glorious heaven where the light shall
never more cease to shine. And so he died.

More than two centuries have passed away, and we enter
another chamber, where another great actor in the scenes of
time is about to pass from earth. He is an old man of four-
score and five summers. For sixty years he has preached the
gospel of Christ. For fifty years he has been the leader of a
glorious reformation. For forty years he has been the earthly
head of a new ecclesiastical organization, in connection with
which the Spirit of God has breathed into tens of thousands
the peace of a Christian faith. With the harness still on, he
is stricken down. He has never sought for rest, save as he
rested in the great work to which his life was given. Disease
and pain he has hardly known. Death has come to him
gently as the natural decay of the mortal tenement — not as
the tempest or the fire j)rematurely unroofs or consumes, but
as time with its subtle and slow-working forces loosens the
mortar from the walls and rots the timbers. He, the father
of his people, the servant of God, distinguished as the instru-
ment of vast benedictions to millions, once reviled and mobbed
as a fanatic and a disturber, now honored by the united voice
of a great ^Deople as God's chosen minister, feels that the time
of his departure has at length come. In the complete pos-
session of his faculties, his heart full of peace and hope, with
every thing arranged for this world and the world to come, he
falls asleep to awake in that world where the martyrs and
confessors of all ages, and those who have been wise to win
souls, shine as living stars for evermore.

These great men, whose characteristics I have now sketched,
are not men of the past. They live, they labor, they consti-
tute mighty influences at work in the bosom of our great re-
public. The church of Wesley, not only by its prodigious
numerical expansion, but also by its rapid progress in intelli-

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 403

gence, its schools, its higher seminaries and colleges, its deep
and steady enthusiasm, is growing into a power of incalcula-
ble influence upon the future of millions on this continent.
We may refuse to recognize it ; we may think of it as it once
was, a fervent, rude, ignorant innovator ; but, despite our
opinions, lo ! it rises before us a compact, gigantic, symmet-
rical organism, animated with sincere devotion, sustained by
an indomitable will, informed by an hourly advancing intelli-
gence, its one foot washed by the Atlantic, the other by the
Missouri, with one hand in Maine and another in California,
everywhere at work and everywhere triumphant.

Calvin, too, is here visible in all our institutions. Our
great Kevolution was but the enfranchisement of the youth —
the introduction of that youth to the rights of manhood.
That youth had his growth long years before the muskets of
Bunker Hill and the cannon of Yorktown thundered forth his
accession to man's estate. Our rej)ublicanism was born on the
banks of Lake Leman. Hoary-headed Jura smiled upon his
cradle ; the music of the avalanche and the roaring cataracts of
the Arve were his nightly lullaby. Three hundred yeare ago,
Calvin enunciated and organized the principles which gave
being and form to our national life. Before his death he sought
to realize what we now see on this continent. He planned
and sent forth a colony to be planted on these shores — a col-
ony of Huguenots, which should found a Protestant republic.
This plan failed of execution through the treachery of the per-
son chosen to carry it out. Calvin died. He saw not this asy-
lum for his oppressed countrymen opening its portals. But his
words, his thoughts, his principles lived still. These, scat-
tered broadcast over France, Holland, and Great Britain,
penetrated the souls of millions. They were brought hither
in Grod's better time. They lived, they grew vigorously on
this virgin soil. Their roots sank down and embraced the
solid granite. Their branches spread out bold and free. In
other lands they were dwarfed and impeded by the time-
cemented walls of monarchical institutions. Here, in nature's
grand temple, with the heavens for their roofing and the

404 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

ocean for their boundary , they grew up in solid, majestic full-
ness. Neglected, despised, they gi'ew all the more rapidly.
Natural obstacles, aboriginal hostilities, the battle with the
forest and its denizens, hardened, consolidated, strengthened
them. Then, when the fiercest tempest came, when the Rev-
olution swept over them, they stood firm, they rose proudly
above it, and still to this day they flourish in the vigor of an
early youth. No man in whose intellect and heart the prin-
ciples of Calvin have their home, can be any thing else than
a freeman. In New England or Virginia, in Ohio or on the
plains of Kansas, he must be untrue to himself and to his
God, before he can tamely put his neck beneath the yoke of
the 0]3pressor, or put his foot upon the neck of the oj^pressed.
The first declaration of independence in these colonies was the
work of a Calvinistic minister. Into Church and State, Cal-
\an, above all men of the past, has breathed his spirit, and
his principles have modeled our great republic.

I have already remarked that the influence of this great
mind was eminently favorable to education. Wherever his
spirit has gone, there it has created institutions of learning,
and made the school-house and the college the noble allies of
the Church. In this new world it early reared such institu-
tions. It built up the school and the academy in every vil-
lage. It inaugurated a new era in the history of education,
and advanced in the breadth and fullness of its views on this
subject far beyond the old world, where first it rose. The
genius of our country, interpenetrated by it, reveals here the
same free, bold, original development which has already sub-
dued a continent, spread its adventurous commerce round the
globe, and carried the practical arts and sciences beyond the
limits reached in the lands from whence we sprung. Not
merely for the sons, but also for the daughtei*s of our coun-
try, it has opened wide the gates of knowledge. Where, in
any part of the globe we inhabit, does there exist a spirit so
general and earnest in its purpose of securing the advantages
of female education, or institutions more numerous and bet-
ter adapted to meet that purpose than in this land ? Among

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 405

the thoughtful of our countrymen — and they comprise the
vast majority — the full, the free development of the intellect
of woman is just as well settled as any other axiom of educa-
tion. Its limit in the case of either sex is the same — a limit
created hy the necessities of life, and not at all by any inhe-
rent difference in the nature of the subject.

Under the quickening influences of this creative spirit,
institutions of female education rise on all sides. All aim to
educate woman, but the extent and character of this educa-
tion, and the manner of filling out the idea, are not by any
means the same. Some seek mainly to polish the manners ;
some to impart a few outward accomplishments ; some to
strengthen and adorn the intellect ; some to combine a thor-
ough intellectual with a truly Christian development. The
institution whose first commencement we this day celebrate,
stands forth unique and singular in this western world.
Other institutions may excel this in the mere artistical forms
of education, and others may equal it in mere literary advan-
t.ages — for neither of these constitute its great ideal. Its
chief peculiarity lies in the extent to which it combines the
intellectual with the practical. It guides the hand while it
polishes the manners, disciplines the aifections and develops
the intellect. It unites womanly thinking to womanly act-
ing. It marries labor and learning ; the domestic and the
literary life. It disciplines the whole woman to her work as
a thinker and a doer. It ennobles woman's domestic avoca-
tions by penetrating them with the spirit of a Christian litera-
ture. It combines in itself more completely than any other
institution, all those forms of education which go to make
an earnest, complete, intelligent, practical. Christian woman.
This was the gi-and idea of that truly illustrious lady, in
whose mind the plan of this seminary had its first conception,
and under whose supervision it received its first successful
development. This marks its whole spirit and working. If
any man wishes his daughter to be a fashionable doll, let him
not send her here ; we cultivate no such plants. If any man
wishes his daughter to shine only in the light of artistic accom-

406 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAY8.

plisliments, let him not send her here ; for these we cultivate
in strict subordination to another — a higher ideal. If any man
seeks simply to make his daughter a mere scholar, there are
other institutions where this can be eifected as well as here.
But if a man wishes to see his daughter develop her powers
in the line of a true woman's life — if he covets foi- her the
crown of an earnest-minded woman, inspired with lofty aims,
conscious of power for good, and determined to use it aright
— a woman whose disciplined head, and heart, and hand, are
all prepared for a life of ennobled Christian action, in any
and every field that she may properly call her own, then let
him send her here. In this institution she is to be no longer
a passive recipient or a jiartially-developed flower, but part
of the active forces which work for a grand end. Here she is
something ; a giver as well as receiver ; a steady, joyous, on-
ward thinker and actor. She is the coefficient of a family
where all is life, thought, labor, recreation, praise. She
helps sustain this family ; she contributes to its efficiency,
its economy, its order, its usefulness ; she is one of the living
wheels within the great wheel, that inspires, that moves it
onward. She drops at the door of this seminary the idea that
her father pays so much money for which she is to receive so
much knowledge. She enters here as herself a vital element
of this household. At once she begins to occupy the position
which every true woman is to hold in after life — the position
of a power for good, for self-support, for the progress and
elevation of society and domestic life. This gives digjiity to
her step. Her very air proclaims that she has a purpose in
life — that she is not a plaything nor a loiterer, but a noble
Christian lady, with high aims and power to realize them.
Her office may be seemingly unimportant ; she may perform
the lightest part of the household duties ; but such as it is,
she knows that it is something essential to the economy of
the family, and one of the wheels that if clogged must de-
range the whole machinery. Entering into this mutually
helpful society, how soon will its spirit penetrate her ? She
comes here trembling, doubtful, fearful, dreading almost

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 407

what is before her. But soon her fears depart. She breathes
a new atmosphere ; she feels its inspiring influence ; she
learns to love order, to rejoice in being an helper and a
worker, to feel the dignity of action directed to a good pur-
pose. Who can estimate the value of the discipline of order,
of economy, of intelligent action she daily receives ? Mean-
while the head is clearer for thought, the body grows more
symmetrical, graceful, and beautiful, while the heart is more
sensitive to the realities of this life and the claims of the life
to come. She who came here immature and almost helpless,
goes forth after the prescribed curriculum, an intelligent, re-
fined, self-trusting, earnest, well-developed lady. She is pre-
pared to nurture and to bless a race of noble freemen. Place
her where you please, her spirit will bless, her intelligence
illumine, her accomplishments adorn, and her active life en-
noble and stimulate the whole circle within which she moves.

In such a family as this, it follows of necessity that there
must be limitations as to age and mental attainments. It is
neither a nursery, nor a preparatory school for mere girls.
There must be some ripeness of body and mind in the pupil
who would profit herself by the thorough study, and profit
others by fulfilling the domestic avocations of such an insti-
tution. It holds, in respect to other schools of more ambi-
tious names, the relation of a university to the academy. It
disciplines minds in the direction of life's great duties and
woman's peculiar work, just as the university trains minds
for distinct professions.

Of course, its discipline must be strict, its order must be
perfect. This is not the place for young minds to amuse
themselves. These young ladies have a higher mission just
now, than to waste their time with those who are too lazy to
improve the golden hours of youth themselves, or too silly not
to appreciate the position and objects of those who assemble
here. Even a parent, in his mistaken fondness, may forget
the necessity that exists here, that his child should not be
jostled out of her place in the beautiful and orderly system
of this family arrangement. I say even a parent may need

408 HISTOEICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

to be reminded that the success of this plan depends abso-
lutely upon the promptness and regularity with which every
pupil, and his daughter among the rest, is in her place and
fulfills her duty. In this our free land, where, alas ! too
often the children rule the parents, where in many a family
domestic discipline is unknown, it seems almost a perilous
experiment to plant an institution which embodies and car-
ries out the purest idea of family order. Here, there, every-
where, it seems as if it would impinge upon the disorderly
freedom of the girl, or the ca^jtious indulgence of the girl's
parents. But after all, I do not sympathize with — I never
have from the beginning sympathized with the tremors, the
evil auguries of those who deem that on this rock our noble
ship will strilce a shattered wreck : for I know that beneath
this superficial looseness of our life, there is a great and a
noble heart, a sound and a practical common sense ; and I
have never doubted but that when once this institution comes
to be thoroughly understood, and is permitted to make its
appeal direct to this clear-sighted judgment, and this right
royal spirit of our western life, that we shall all take it to our
bosoms as one of our most useful friends ; and that then, in-
stead of waiting for pupils, we shall find its doors besieged
by a crowd eager to enjoy its high advantages.

For where on the surface of this globe, in all lands and
climes, can you find as thoroughly earnest and intelligently
j)ractical a class of men and women as dwell on these western
hills and prairies ? We have dug up forests' that flourished
in a green old age when the Norman conquered old Saxon
England. We have built cities and towns, and adorned them
with schools and colleges, faster than any nation before us.
We have spread the sails of a more numerous and a richer
commerce in half a century than the East has done in two
centuries. We have laid down more railroads and achieved
greater material triumphs, and done more to bind this vast
valley together in the chains of a true civilization, in a few
years, than all the world besides in centuries. The western
heart will trust and follow a hard-working, intelligent man,

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 409

wherever it finds liim. It will love and rejoice in, and almost
worship, a pure-minded, earnest, intelligent woman, wherever
it sees her. And if there be a place on all the continents of
earth, that is just the place to plant such an institution as
this, and gather round it deep sympathies, and fervent prayers,
and strong hands, it is surely here in this great western valley,
among this practical people. Aye ! and have we not found
it so even in our short experience ? Whence comes this deep
interest, this quiet enthusiasm, these numerous applicants
that to-day greet us ? Whence is it that, in a single year, so
many hearts were opened to respond to our appeal for funds
to rear these lofty walls and prepare this goodly spot for the
inauguration of this institution ? Yes ! these old oaks that
tower around us rejoice to-day that while beneath their shade
the Indian tomahawk gleams no more, and the Indian squaw
wears out her life no more in the hard labors which her proud
lord forced upon her, the daughters of a fairer race, in the
bloom of their opening beauty, here circle in merry sports,
and develop a lofty and noble character, and prepare them-
selves to live the life of true Christian women. And from
this spot, this jewel on the fair brow of our State, richer far
than those which flame in kingly coronets, there is to go
forth in widening circles an influence that is to accumulate
in power until it spreads its holy benedictions over all this
western world,

Mr. President,* I feel that before this address is concluded,
it belongs to me to discharge a most grateful office toward
yourself and the teachers and pupils of this seminary. Here,
on this 17th of July, 1856, on this the first anniversary of an
institution in the inception and establishment of which you
have borne the chief part ; in the presence of this multitude of
sympathizing friends, I tender to you my warai congi'atula-
tions. Little did I anticipate, when first you suggested this
project, that its completion in such grand proportions would
so soon stand forth a visible fact. To-day the enthusiasm,

* Rev. Daniel Tenuey, President of the Board of Trustees.

410 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

the indomitable purpose, the tireless energy, the habitual
recognition of a high, a holy end, which animated you, wins
the crown. Looking down upon this lovely scene, and up at
yonder lofty edifice, did you possess the spirit of an old Koman,
you might exclaim, ^^Hoc monumentum cere perennius exegil"
But you have drank inspiration from another fountain ; you
have learned wisdom from another and a better teacher ; you
have felt that, " except the Lord build the house, they labor
in vain that .build it ; except the Lord keep the city, the
watchman waketh but in vain." You will be among the first
to recognize that divine benediction, without which our might-
iest and wisest efforts are utterly powerless. We thank God
that he inspired the idea and the purpose to realize this idea ;
that he gave you resolution and wisdom to lay these founda-
tions so firm and broad ; and that he gives us this day so aus-
picious a commencement of what, we doubt not, is to be a
most noble future. May you live to see many classes of
graduates passing from this place to shed abroad the influ-
ence of refined, intelligent Christian women, and then in a
better world see the full and happy results of this gi'eat
undertaking !

Pemiit me also, in behalf of the Board of Trustees, on
this occasion, to tender to you, our respected principal,"* and
your excellent associates in the instruction and management
of this institution, our w\armest congratulations. You came
here a stranger in novel circumstances — circumstances which
led some to anticipate a failure — to organize and set in motion
heterogeneous elements, and give to this western world an
illustration of that peculiar discipline which in other circum-
stances and under special influences had challenged our ad-
miration. A few months have passed. You are no more a
stranger. Aided by your faithful and intelligent associates,
you have successfully organized this institution, and this week
we have begun to gather in its first ripe fruits. We congrat-
ulate you on the success of this great experiment. You have

* Miss Helen Peabody.

JOHN CALVIN AND JOHN WESLEY. 411

amply vindicated the wisdom of the policy which led to its
establishment ; you have earned a high plac(3 in onr esteem.
We trust that this day will be the type of many anniversa-
ries in which you shall send forth class after class disciplined
in mind and heart for the labors of life.

Young ladies, I can not take leave of this audience with-
out addressing a parting word to you. I have spoken of your
teachers as those who have successfully organized this seminary;
but I would be doing you wrong not to recognize your share
in this success. Your sisterly affection ; your womanly honor,
mutually reliant and trustful ; your intelligent alacrity in sus-
taining the interests of this your novel family organization ;
your obedient, free-hearted life ; your quick perception of the
necessity and advantage of that discipline which constitutes
the organic power of this seminary, and more than all, your
deep interest in that practical Christianity which is here the
centraHziug, vitalizing energy that puts the whole of these
activities in motion, and concentrates them to their high end:
these things constitute you, with your teachers, the founders
of this beneficent institution.

The future will have its color from this young past and
present. When years have rolled away, and your daughters
come up hither with you to sit as you now sit, beneath the
shade of these venerable trees, as you meet each other again,
how will you point back with pride to this year past — live
o'er again the healthful excitements of this period, and speak
of those who here are with you now, then off on missions of
love all over the land, or gathered lovingly around the throne
on high. Yes ! gathered there ; some, perhaps many of you,
ere that day shall come, with those already gone, will be in
another world. But if now ye love Jesus, then ye will not
cease to thank and praise him for what these instructors here
did, when in this your opening womanhood you listened to
their words of love and peace and light. In a few days, I
hope, with your beloved principal, to visit another, the only
other such institution as this. I hope to stand where Mount
Holyoke flings his morning, and Mount Tom his evening shad-

412 HISTO EPICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

ows across the quiet stream and lovely intervals of the Con-
necticut. There, beside the grave of her whose intellect shaped
this beautiful and beneficent organism, and whose Christian
spirit breathed it into life, we will bear to the daughters of
the East the greetings of these young daughters of the free,
the boundless, the hopeful, and the mighty West. We will
tell them of the light which, kindled at their altar, and borne
hither by vestals from their honored shrine, now flames so
brightly amid our milder skies. And as of old the cannon
roared, and the loud huzzas of millions echoed from hill to
vale across a continent when New York's noble son, her great-
est Clinton, mingled the waters of our Lake Erie with the
waters of the Hudson, so will we begin the anthem of praise,
that as it rolls above the Alleghanies, and stays not till it
mingles with the roar of the surges of the broad Pacific, shall
celebrate the mingling together of the streams of holy influ-
ence from the East and the West in one tide of love and light
and power for ever.

I

XII.

. HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OF GOD'S
PROVIDENCE.*

" Give ear, 0 my people, to my law ; incliae your ears to the words of my
mouth. I will open my mouth in a parable ; I wUl utter dark sayings of old ;
which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us. We will not
hide them from their children, showing to the generation to come, the praises of
the Lord, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done. For he
estabhshed a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he com-
manded our fathers that they should make them known to the children ; that the
generation to come might know them, even the children which should be bom,
who should arise and declare them to their children ; that they might set tlieir
hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments." —
PsALir Ixxviii. 1-7.

The preservation of their history was among the sacred
obligations of the children of Israel. To them had been com-
mitted in trust the only authentic records of the race from
Adam to Abraham. In Abraham, the Church, as sej^arate
in form from the rest of the world, had its origin. Previously
spread abroad, and manifesting itself in here and there an in-
dividual, it now entered into special relations with a single
family. Along the line of their descent, the divine ministra-
tions for their preservation shone forth luminously. Victories,
miracles, and wonderful providences distinguished their his-
tory. God, who was indeed present with all nations, and
wrought among them all, yet here exhibited most powerfully
his spiritual presence, and disj)layed the clearest light of his
truth. It was incumbent on the fathers of each generation to
see to it, that a history so full of instruction should be asso-
ciated vviih the thoughts, and vividly impressed upon the

* A discourse occasioned by the death of the Hon, Jacob Burnet, LL.D., of
Cincinnati, Ohio. Delivered May 29, 1853.

414 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

memory of every cliild as it gi-ew to raanliood. It was for
them to see to it, tliat from tlie earliest dawn of intelligence,
the events of this grand history should begin to enter the
mind, color the imagiDation, awaken emotions of reverence
toward God and patriotism toward the land and race over
which this God thus gloriously ruled. And if you would seek
for one cause more powerful than any other, which has con-
tributed to maintain the distinctiveness of Israel, in all his
wanderings, and the pertinacious adherence to the faith of his
fathers, amid the perils of persecution and the seductions of-
pleasure, for more than eighteen hundred years, you will find it
in his early familiarity with this, the most wonderful among all
written and unwritten histories, and the complete possession
which, from childhood upward, the past gloiy of his nation
obtained of his entire soul. It is the consciousness of belong-
ing to such a race that clothes his spirit with dignity, while
his body is covered with meanness, and that makes him look
down upon kings, while he seems timidly to crouch at their
feet. Though the sun of his glory has long since gone down
in darkness — though century drags along century, protracting
the weary vigils of his Kabbis, and mocking the interpreta-
tions of his doctors — yet the very sky which to others is ob-
scured by clouds, wild and gloomy, is illuminated to him in
colors of beauty and hope, by the backward beams of his
sunken luminary. So early did he learn the past, so soon
were its glories poured around his being, that even the awful
chill and blackness of the present can not wholly take from
him the influence of its brilliant hopes and prophetic grand-
eur. For purposes like these, God obliged the Israelite to
teach his children the history of his State and Church — so
mighty a weapon is this in hands skillful to wield it over the
opening minds of youth.

Nor is this a singular case. The history of any State —
even where that State has been degraded, but especially if it
be glorious and in harmony with its institutions — is an in-
strument of vast influence in the education of men. It will
act as a plastic presence, subtle, ethereal, stealing into the

HISTOKY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE. 415

mind, and unconsciously molding the heart. Silently, as
thoughts of the past come to dwell in the soul, will the young
mind unconsciously drink in the powerful inspiration ; silently,
the memory receives impressions never to be effaced; silently,
the imagination, seizing hold of the facts of the past, repro-
duces them in vivid and glowing pictures, while the reason
joyfully submits to follow in the path of so amiable a prej-
udice. The history of our own land, early taught to our sons, is
a great bulwark of liberty. Its influence in perpetuating' that
American spirit which has created it, is beyond measure pow-
erful. The history of Scotland and of England is reproduc-
ing itself continually, as the planted acorn brings forth the
oak. An instrument for the education of the human mind
like this, is surely too precious to be neglected — too mighty
to be despised.

History has been divided into sacred and profane. But
the division, although convenient, is apt to associate with
history a false idea. There is no history profane in the sense
of being atheistic or without Grod. Profane it may be from
the sin and folly it records, but profane it is not from the ab-
sence of a providence that runs through and works through
it all. The race of man is still one — descended from one
parent, subject to one law, exposed to one death, to be saved
by one Saviour. The history of the world is not a series of
disjointed fragments, without concinnity, order, purpose and
unity. The world, with its oceans, continents, saharas, frozen
regions, burning tropics, forms but a single globe, every part
of which bears a just relation to every other part. The oceans
have a settled and necessary proportion to the continents, the
streams to the land, the plains to the mountains, the deserts
to the gardens, the ever green to the ever frozen. The met-
als, the coal beds, the forests, are in due proportion to the
size of the planet and the wants of its inhabitants. Its posi-
tion toward the sun and moon is precisely the best arrange-
ment for the gi-eater number of its people ; and thus all its
parts form a whole, arranged by the single mind of Jehovah,

416 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

admirably adapted from their peculiar combination to answer
one grand end.

It is thus with the race itself. Divided into nations,
tribes, families, scattered over all parts of the world, subject
to various conditions, each part has still a place in the his-
tory of man ; and the providence of God has a lesson to
teach the universe, from each one of these sejiarate and seem-
ingly disjointed members of the human family, that shall
contribute something absolutely essential to the final com-
pleteness of the illustration of God's excellence, for which the
world was created. The providence of God runs through
each separate branch of human history as 'the sap pervades
the outermost branches of a tree, and gives to the whole a
unity of form and life. The purpose of God in the creation
of man could not be answered without this vast variety in the
illustration of great principles, without subjecting intelligent
moral natures to all conditions, and permitting them to work
out their appropriate results. There are some streams that
occasionally disappear from sight, running underground for a
time, then reappearing on the surface ; so the providential
government of God seems to be lost from the sight, in refer-
ence to some nations, until at length it suddenly reveals its
presence and its purpose. The stream of that overflowing
government penetrates all climes and nations. It is not with-
out a design worthy of the Infinite, that one part of the de-
scendants of Noah were impelled into Ethiopia, where, isolated
from the rest of men, and blackened by the sun, they gi-ew
into so strange a variety of the race. Not in vain has China
submitted to other conditions, and illustrated the operation
of other princij)les. Not a tribe, however far they may have
wandered, on whatever isle of the ocean they may have been
blown, like sea-weed, from other shores ; not a nation, or
series of nations ; not a battle, an invention, a single condi-
tion in the lives of men, that fulfills not some important mis-
sion in the government of Jehovah.

To a full appreciation of this grand scheme, running as it
does through all history, there are two obstacles ; the one is

HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE 417

the position of the heart, the other the limited power of the
mind. No man can at all enter into this amazing providence
whose heart is not in sympathy with it. Such men as Hume,
Gibbon, Voltaire, may chronicle facts, in most pure and elo-
quent language ; but the s})iritual bigotry, the narrowness
and falsity of their religious conceptions, unfit them for ap-
preciating the remarkable thread of divine providence that
runs through the events they record. To them, those facts
are merely isolated events tending to no grand result ; while
to the Christian there is a singular coherence in them, a life
of God that runs through them as a complete whole, illus-
trating sublime and excellent principles. We must believe
if we would know the truth. A soul involved in the meshes
of skepticism sees all things confused and entangled; his very
philosophy is nothing but confusion worse confounded —
trains of events springing from nothing, leading nowhere !
But when the believer, with only the same intellectual power,
begins to survey them, he beholds a thousand lessons of wis-
dom revealed in the sunlight; and where he can not trace out
the full purpose, he may yet discover some of the subordinate
designs.

This leads me to say that the other obstacle to the full
comijrehension of the providence of God in history is the im-
becility of the mind. We can not here reach a position suffi-
ciently high to take in the entire field of the divine operations.
This providence is so minute and so extensive — ^reaching to
all events of the humblest character, and comprehending the
entire history of the race — that no single mind can here fully
know all the facts, far less arrange them according to the
natural order which they assume in the divine mind. Be-
sides, the history of the race is incomplete. Experiments
and illustrations are yet in progress. Much of the present is
linked on to the future, and we must wait for that to unfold
its real character ; we hold one end of the thread, but where
it will lead us, we can not yet fully tell. Now, when, at
length, these two obstacles shall be removed — when, taking
our stand where the mind can gradually look all over the

27

418 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS,

workings of divine providence through the history of men, we
shall be able to appreciate its various character — what a
scene of grandeur and glory will burst upon us ! It will be
more sublime than the vision of the universe of stars and
suns, moving in silent, solemn march around the central
palace of the King of kings ! When the mind of man shall
reach that position he will behold an order, a wisdom and a
glory, where now he sees only confusion, folly and darkness.
The forcible declaration of Jesus will then be magnificently
illustrated, " My Father worketh hitherto and I work," and
the product will be so grand, so glorious, so affecting, as to
compel adoration and wonder for ever !

But I hasten to say a word on the history of the Church
of Christ. The religious history of the world is the real trunk
of all history. The relation of man to God takes j)recedence
of, as it is infinitely more important than, the relations of
men to each other, and the physical world. The civil and
social developments of society are to the religious, what the
outward life is to the heart ; what the leaves and branches
are to the trunk of the tree. And the great trunk with which
the religious history of all men is to be connected, and from
which it will derive its unity, is the Church of Christ. All
the developments of national character — the workings of gov-
ernment, of popular systems of faith, of errors, and partial
truths, of forms and traditions, of art and science, of lan-
guage and eloquence, of revolutions and wars — are but parts
of a wondrous scheme, in which the truth shall be made lu-
minous by the failures of errors ; and the redemption of
Christ, with the influence associated with it, be demonstrated
by experiments of vast reach and prodigious power, to be the
only thing that can save, and bless, and exalt a fallen race.
It is necessary to the perfect exhibition of the transcendent
power and glory of the scheme of salvation by the cross, to
permit the training and trial of men under all other forms of
belief and kinds of influence. If some one form of State gov-
ernment will make men holy and happy, why, then, the cross
of Christ is unnecessary. If some form of error, systematized

HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE 419

and wrought into efficiency and beauty, will do as well to
train men for the skies, then the wisdom of God in Christ is
not declared. If the simple plan of salvation may be amended,
on the one hand, by striking down some of its strongest pil-
lars, or on the other, by superadding a mass of human forms
and superstitious observances, so as to be a better instrument
for the deliverance of men from guilt and pollution, and their
preparation for immortality, then is Grod's truth in that scheme
of redemption, in part, useless or insufficient ; and the In-
finite must divide with the finite, the glory of human salva-
tion. But if, after ages of trial, in all forms, under all cir-
cumstances, by all sorts of human inventions, in all stages of
the progress of society — it is seen that every thing is a failure
but the original, incorrupt and simple scheme of redemption ;
that this alone can reclaim men from the ways of sin ; that
this alone can assure the parent of his own salvation, or that
of his child ; that this alone can make a healthful state of
society, in which peace, and temperance, purity, intelligence
and true courtesy, physical comfort, and liberty of conscience,
shall most perfectly reign ; that this alone can bind up the
broken heart, assuage the pains of disease, and light up the
bed of death with an unfading glory ; then, indeed, will the
wisdom of Jehovah be vindicated, and that truth which he
hath declared to be " the power of God to salvation," will be
exalted before angels. Then will He whose life has flowed
through the Church from its institution in Eden down to the
conflagration, gather around himself a glory most astonishing
and unique, while all the heavens shall shout, " Worthy art
thou to reign, for thou hast prevailed to unloose the seals of
this great mystery, and unfold in thy blood the scheme of life
eternal." What a scene will then be spread out before the
universe, in which the permission of all these errors will be
understood, and the redemption of Christ shall rise over one
and all triumphant ! How shallow and mean the intellect
of the wisest errorist ! How transcendent and glorious the
wisdom of Immanuel ! Thus the history of the Church is
interwoven with that of the world, in all its forms ; and thus,

420 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

when Grod proceeds to unravel the long series of its events,
and i^lace them in order before us, shall we learn to admire
and adore. Oh ! amazing wisdom, that penetrates all things,
compasses the operation of all causes, and institutes a plan
of redemption on which innumerable failures of men will shed
the brilliancy of final and complete success !

Sucli, in brief, is the true character of the history of the
Church and of the religion of Christ. It combines in itself
all that' is most sublime in both the providence, and word,
and works of God. It is a larger mirror, reflecting with more
perfection and power, over a wider circle of mind, the char-
acter of God in Christ, as the Kedeemer of man, than it is at
all probable will be found anywhere else in the universe.

I have spoken of history in general. But history is made
up of elements ; and the richest elements, the most precious
materials of which it is composed, are contained in the biog-
raphies of individuals. Biography constitutes the fountains
and the minor streams, which in their confluence form the
history of the world. There are some individual lives that
illustrate the domestic life, the social state, and customs of
the mass of the people. There are others that reveal to us
the religious character and sacred science of a nation. There
are others still, that connect themselves with art and law,
with medicine, commerce and mechanics. There are others
that are associated with the doings of the State ; with the
formation and transformation or continuance of government ;
with the progress or decay of national aggrandizement and
national power. Now, if we are careful thus to preserve the
individual history of a few men in each department of life ;
if we are vigilant in rescuing from oblivion the biographies
which best illustrate the state and progress or decline of so-
ciety, then we shall have gathered up the materials out of
which to form at length a true and most useful history of the
providence of God in his dealings with men. It is not, in-
deed, every man's history that deserves thus to be recorded.
Some men just appear upon the stage of action, and are seen
no more. And while every human life, if faithfully written,

HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE. 421

would have something vahiable as an encouragement or a
warning, yet it is only from here and there a few, that we can
gather the best materials for the final history of man.

It has been the peculiar fortune of the eminent man who
has just departed from us, to have lived through so long a
series of years — to have been associated with such men and
such scenes from early childhood — to have borne such a part
in measures of far-reaching influence upon society — to have
been connected with the State and with the Church, in such
a variety of ways, and through so protracted a life — that a
faithful biography of his one life would present some of the
most deeply interesting and marked features and characteris-
tics of our age, of our land, and of the early history and
progress of our western world. It would embrace the stirring
scenes and illustrious actors of our revolutionary struggle ;
the conflicts through which our present Constitution gradually
assumed shape and authoiity ; the struggles of ambition and
local interests for disunion ; the early educational institutions
of the nation ; the pioneer life of this great North-west ;
the steps by which States were formed, and law and civiliza-
tion spread themselves over lands once trodden only by the
Indian and his prey ; the feeble infancy of our churches and
schools, and the influences against which the truth of God
has prevailed, and the religion of Jesus has rooted itself in
the hearts of millions ; the change from the roughness and
the privations of the woods to the refinements and opulence
of beautiful towns and populous cities, where men from every
clime assemble on these sacred days to worship the living
God, in temples such as would dishonor no nation, however
high its civiHzation. These fourscore years and more have
been pregnant with the mightiest changes in the history of the
whole human race. Revolutions, arts and sciences, religious
progress, the earth opening all her ports to the missionary of
the cross, stamp a character upon these years among the most
remarkable in the annals of time ; while at our firesides, in
our own land, they measure the life of our nation, the con-
stitutional history of our Union, the progress and expansion

422 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

of our population and territoiy, and the rise of great religious
societies, as the instruments of the Church in the spread of
Christianity.

In the brief limits allotted to me, I can hut touch uj^on a
few points in the life of this aged patriarch.

Jacob Burnet was born in Newark, New Jersey, on the
22d of February, 1770. His father. Dr. William Burnet, of
Scotch descent, was a member of the second class that grad-
uated at the College of New Jersey, in 1749 ; was elected a
member of Congress under the Confederation in the fall of
1776 ; the next winter was appointed physician and surgeon
general for the Eastern District of the United States — an
appointment he held to the close of the M^ar.

Judge Burnet received his collegiate education at Nassau
Hall, Princeton, N, J., where he graduated with honor in
September, 1791. After a year spent there as a resident
graduate, he entered the office of Judge Boudinot, of Newark,
as a student of law, and under that distinguished lawyer, laid
the foundation for his future attainments in his profes.sion.
During the year 1795, his health having failed, he traveled
extensively, visited the West for the first time, and made
choice of Cincinnati as his field of future labor. In May,
1796, he was admitted to the bar by the Supreme Court of
New Jersey, and immediately removed to this then frontier
village. He entered at once upon the practice of his profes-
sion, was admitted to the bar on his arrival, and soon obtained
that foremost position as an advocate which he maintained
until his retirement from the active duties of his profession.
In 1799 he was nominated to the Senate of the United States,
and with their advice and consent appointed by the Presi-
dent, John Adams, one of the legislative council of the second
grade of Territorial government. He continued a very active
member of this body until the establishment of a State gov-
ernment in the winter of 1802-3. During the war in 1812,
and subsequently, until he declined a reelection, he was elected
to the State Legislature. Retiring from the practice of the
law in 1816-17, he was, in 1821, appointed to the Bench of

HISTOKY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE. 423

the Supreme Court, and subsequently elected to the same
office by the Legislature. In 1828, he was transferred from
the Bench to the Senate of the United States. At the ex-
piration of his term of office, he refused to be a candidate for
reelection, and ever since rigidly adhered to his purpose of
remaining in private life. In 1847, he published his " Notes
on the North-western Territory," as his contribution to the
history of the West. He departed this life. May 10th, in the
84th year of his age.

This lifQ, thus marked out, naturally falls into four divis-
ions. The first embraces his youth and education ; the second,
his professional career ; the third, his more public service on
the Bench and in the Senate ; and the fourth, the period of re-
tirement in which he spends the last twenty years of his life.

The parentage, the early domestic life, and the future
educational influences under which the youth ripens into the
man, each contribute their part in the formation of character.
Parentage imparts temperament and capacity ; the early do-
mestic life impresses upon childhood, in its most susceptible
state, a thousand unseen and silent plastic influences, w^hich
subtilly insinuate themselves into the very bones and ir arrow
of the young life, and abide with it for ever ; the subsequent
associations with men, and the discipline of a preparation for
public life, confirm and enlarge, or impair and contract the
power of previous training. Now in all these respects Judge
Burnet was highly favored. He sprang from a God-fearing
ancestry — from those who had left their native Scotland to
enjoy in this land those rights and that freedom wliich they
could not obtain at home. Newark, Elizabethtown, and a
number of adjacent towns in that section of New Jersey, were
originally settled by men of the same stamp as those who
emigrated to New England. They brought with them the
word of God and the ministry. Their first concern was to
rear a church and a school-house. The earliest house of wor-
ship built at Newark was of such a size that all the inhabit-
ants of the place could have sat at the same time upon its
foundation wall. They built then' church and their academy

424 HISTORICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

for the future. There Nassau Hall had its origin, and it was
while still at Newark that the father of Judge Burnet com-
pleted his studies in it, under the presidency of the Reverend
Aaron Burr. His father, a physician of eminence, the asso-
ciate of Washington, and an actor in the scenes of the Eevo-
lution, was a man of great decision and liigh moral character.
His own mother died while he was yet a youth, yet not before
she had left the impress of her pious teachings and example
upon his heart. These domestic influences were here most
hajjpy. Rarely is it that you see an entire family of sons and
daughters, embodying more moral worth than that of which
our departed friend was a member. The benediction of Je-
hovah rested upon them in life ; it descended upon them at
the domestic fireside ; the dead have left behind them a frag-
rant memory. Of the living, but one remains, and that one
loved and honored by all who are able to appreciate Christian
excellence.

The First church in Newark, during this period of Judge
Burnet's life, was filled by the Rev. Dr. WcWhorter. He
^vas a man not distinguished for gi-eat brilliancy — not at all
the equal of his successor. Dr. Griffin, in richness and power
of thought and eloquence — yet of such fine scholarship, of
such consistent Christian character, of such rare wisdom, effi-
ciency and ministerial dignity, as to hold his position for half
a century, with the increasing regard and confidence of his
people to the close. To him Judge Burnet looked back with
the greatest respect and reverence. He never mentioned his
name without some epithet of regard. He could repeat some
of his expressions and passages of his sermons when himself
fourscore years old ; and it was easy enough to see that im-
pressions had been made on his mind and heart by the minis-
try of this venerable minister of Christ, that must have con-
tributed vitally to the formation of his character. It is not
every man that can tell, or is willing to acknowledge, how
much he owes to the power of the Christian ministry over his
early years. This appointed influence of Heaven, associated
with that of the parent, and confirmed by it, often sinks deep

HISTORY, THE UNFOLDING OF PROVIDENCE. 425

into the soul, and greatly assists in preparing the soil for the
rich fruits of maturer life ; and that parent is both wicked
and foolish who fails to second the ftiithful efforts of a minis-
ter of Christ for the religious w^ell-being of his children.
With Judge Burnet all these influences were in harmony,
and thus we find him, when fourscore years had passed over
him, looking back to the faithful servant of God, to whom
he listened in youth, as the instrument of the deepest and
most salutary impressions evej' made on his heart.

He entered Nassau Hall shortly after the termination of
our great revolutionary struggle. The storm of war that
had burst with such force upon Princeton had passed away.
The college buildings, which had been converted into bar-
racks for British soldiers, were again the peaceful retreat of
science. He passed through his college course with distinc-
tion and honor, and subsequently spent a year there as a res-
ident graduate. He there formed that taste for the classics
which remained strong in him to the day of his death. His
scholarship was accurate, and his acquaintance with some of
the leading authors familiar and extensive. He was accus-
tomed through life to read the New Testament in the orig-
inal, and his occasional quotations from Latin authors, when
near the close of life, have often surprised and delighted
me.

Among the men at Princeton, during his college career,
there was one who exercised great influence in forming his
character. Dr. Witherspoon was then the presiding officer.
His commanding sense, clear logic. Christian simplicity, de-
cision and purity, as it gave him a wide influence in the con-
vention that framed our national Constitution, so it secured
for him the respect and the deference of the students of Nas-
sau Hall. He was a man of strong, sterling character. Stiff
and erect as the granite mountains, but like those mountains
on which the earliest sunlight played, around which the
clouds gathered and condensed the fertilizing shoAvers, he
stood firm amidst the most trying scenes, shedding light and
refreshing influence upon the quickened minds that resorted

426 HISTOKICAL DISCOURSES AND ESSAYS.

to him for instruction. A powerful mind, when it meets with
another powerful mind, j^oung, susceptible, and of somewhat
congenial temperament, will often give to the younger a form
and impression that will characterize all its future. Wither-
spoon, with his strong, clear intellect, and Christian spirit,
found in young Burnet elements of power worthy his mold-
ing hand ; and he gave to them an imjDress that no after
struggles and toils in the broad battle-field of frontier life
availed to efface. To the dajj of his death, Judge Burnet
cherished an exalted opinion of his venerable teacher, spoke
of him with the deepest enthusiasm, and acknowledged the
influence that had blessed his life and vitally aftected his
character.

In rightly estimating the influences that formed the char-
acter of the deceased for usefulness in the pioneer life to which
he was destined, and the early molding of State institutions
in which he was to bear so large and important a part, you
will not fail to notice the times of his youth, and the men
with whom he was early associated. The period that elapsed
between his birth and his entrance upon jjrofessional life, em-
braced the whole of our revolutionaiy struggle, the formation
of our national Constitution, and the discussions that preceded
it ; the launching of the nation upon the ocean of existence,
as an organized and united government, and the administra-
tion of Washington, consequent upon the adoption of the
Constitution. Central New Jersey was the fiercest battle-
ground of the Kevolution. There the grandsires of some of
us fell in the struggle for religious and civil freedom, and
there their dust will abide till the trump of judgment. His
father. Dr. Burnet, took an early and a decid