ADDRESS BEFORE THE PHOENIX LITERARY SOCIETY OF THE * COLLEGE OF WILLIAM AND MARY, IN DEDICATION OF THEIR NEW HALL, ON THE STH OF DECEMBER, 1859. BY EDWARD S. JOYNES, A. M., Professor of Greek in William and Mary College. Published by Request of the Society. RI C II M ONI): MACFARLANE & FERGUSSON. 1860. ADDRESS. Mr. President and Gentlemen Of the Phoenix Literary Society, Of William and Mary College : I thank you for the honor you have done me, in inviting me to address you on this occasion. Although reluctant always to appear unnecessarily before the public, and although fully con- scious of my inability to do justice to this occasion, or under the circumstances to meet perhaps even your just expectations, I have felt that this occasion had an appropriateness in itself, and a peculiar significance for us, which gave to your invitation a claim upon me, as a Professor in William and Mary College, and as an honorary member of your Society, which I could not disregard. If I have interpreted this invitation aright, it has a meaning beyond that of a mere personal compliment to me, however grateful to myself that may be. You have meant thereby to designate this occasion as one which might worthily unite the Faculty with the students of William and Mary for its appropriate celebration, and, by your choice of one of us to rep- resent you, to give expression to that community of interest and of feeling between you and us, which this occasion so eminently suggests, and which, I trust, it may serve to strengthen and per- petuate among us all. A few months ago, the Faculty and the students of William and Mary were mingled in a common sorrow; to night, we are here to participate in a common joy.. Together we have borne the privations which our desolation had brought upon us; to- gether we celebrate that finished work which restores our loss. That great calamity which laid our ancient temple in ashes, and brought affliction far and wide upon all who loved William and Mary, only served to bind still closer that sympathy of feeling, and that community of interests, which have ever united our Faculty and our students. Together we have passed through trial, and learned by it our mutual dependence. When we were driven, naked and houseless, into the world, to find, where we 4 ADDRESS. could, a resting-place for our exiled Penates, the students of William and Mary, with a spirit worthy of their predecessors in the most glorious days of her history, rallied to a man around us, and assuring us of their sympathy and. approval, clung to us without flinching to the end; and the Faculty still remember, for they could not forget, those gloomy days, when, our buildings in ashes, our apparatus of every kind destroyed, your very rooms and furniture consumed, we met together in a building, not lathed, not plastered, nor even completely floored, and there, without benches, without tables, without comfortable fires in the dead of winter, still tried mutually to do our duty. This con- stitutes a claim upon our gratitude which we cannot forget; and as you stood by us in our troubles, sharing cheerfully every pri- vation through the darkness of the night, so it is right that we should join with you to hail the dawning of another day, bright in promise to us all, which restores to us our College, to you your halls, to William and Mary a local habitation, wherein the hearts of all her sons may dwell. And it is especially appro- priate that this celebration should take place first in the hall of the Phoenix Literary Society; for that conflagration which buried all in common ruin, spent its last consuming fury upon your hall. We saved something, however little, yet enough at least to serve as memorials of what we had lost, and to preserve unbroken the record of the glorious history of William and Mary ; you lost everything, your furniture, your library, the very records of your past existence. Ere help could reach the spot, your library, the collected treasures of years, with that monumental library of William and Mary, which history can never cease to mourn, were mingled in one common sacrifice- a precious hecatomb to the consuming God, while the flames leaped and laughed to heaven, as if exulting in triumph over the destruction, in an hour, of the treasured monuments of hu- man genius, which centuries had contributed to fame. In organizing your society, accepting as their motto the spirit of that Egyptian myth which, dimly foreshadowing what science has since revealed, symbolized in the beautiful fable of the Phoe- nix, the reproductive powers of nature, and that undying recrea- tive energy which brings new life out of the elements of disso- lution, your founders named it the Phoenix Society. Little did ADDRESS. 5 they then think that that name was destined to be not only the watchword of its life, but the presage of its doom. Little did you think, when last you met in that old hall, that you would so soon be called upon to test your title to the name, and, by the display in moral action of that undying energy which the Egyp- tians typified in the world of nature, to convert fable into fact, and martyred upon the blazing pyre, to rise yourselves " Phoe- nix-like from your ashes." And you have done so. This night, arisen to new life, you rebaptize yourselves "The Phoenix." You assemble to-night in a hall not unworthy of your past his- tory, to enter, like your fabled bird, upon a new career of youth- ful life, renewed and purified by fire. Not without embarrass- ments in the present, you are yet ready, with hope and courage, to encounter and conquer every difficulty. "Perplexed," it may be, you are not " in despair." " Cast down," you are not " destroyed." If you have lost your perishable possessions, you possess unbroken that moral power by which you may replace them; if you have lost your records, it only enables you to en- shrine your history in your memory, and to perpetuate in the glowing colors of tradition, more fond than history, those recol- lections which fire cannot destroy ; if you have lost your treas- ured library, that gives you a claim upon your honorary mem- bers, your Alumni and friends, which they cannot disregard, and which will more than enable you to replace your losses. With this session you enter upon a new era in your history; let it be not unworthy of your past fame, not unworthy of the inspiring name you bear, not unworthy of William and Mary, your Alma Mater, whose glorious Alumni are your elder brothers. But we do not forget, that in congratulating you upon the opening of your new hall, we all congratulate each other and ourselves. And, indeed, we have cause for congratulation. This finished building, in which we now stand, whatever its im- perfections, is a triumph. In a few short months, against many obstacles, under every embarrassment, beyond the hopes of our friends, contrary to the expectations of the public, this building has arisen from a heap of smoking ruins into its present form; and, whatever may be said of its architecture, to-day it is fin- ished, and we are in it. Burnt out in the middle of one session, we hold the first lecture of the next in a completed edifice, 6 ADDRESS. which, in all its accommodations and appliances, is second to no College building in the State, and this without a single day lost from our lectures, or a cent squandered from our treasury. This, I say, is a triumph, and a cause for congratulation. If the Faculty have not done all which they might have done under better' auspices, they have done all which could have been done under the circumstances; and for the promptitude and faithful- ness with which we have endeavored to do our duty, we confi- dently challenge criticism. And as a member of the Faculty, speaking in this presence, I should be insensible to the dictates of justice, if I did not signalize especially the ability and fidelity with which our President* has discharged his trying duties, and, ever ready at his post, in council or in action, has guarded the interests of the College through every emergency. To him, more than to any other human agency, is due, I sincerely believe, the early completion of this building. In seeking to do our duty, one thing we have not done. We have not ' removed this ancient landmark we have not torn down those old walls, and we rejoice in that when we remember our work. The traces of that antiquity which rendered the old build- ing so venerable, and so valuable as an historical monument, we have preserved in the foundations of the present; and for these in- tact we willingly surrender all the ornaments of modern architec- ture, These old walls arc sacred to the patriotic heart. They pre- serve unbroken a visible link, binding William and Mary to the glorious past of her history. The Ebenezer of a new epoch under the dominion of a mightier race, they rose here more than one hundred and fifty years ago, shedding the first light of science in the midst of an untutored wilderness, and heralding to a new world the conquering march of mind. Within them gathered the Indians, and here, under the sanction of the Chris- tian religion, the son of the forest was permitted to learn from the white man those lessons which might solace, it they could not avert, his own inevitable doom. They are connected with all the associations of our colonial history, when Williamsburg was the seat of the colonial government, and the centre of the colonial society, and when William and Mary was the royal Seminary, and as yet the only College in Virginia. They * Prof. Benj. S. Ewell. ADDRESS. 7 witnessed all the dark but glorious days of the Revolution. Within sight of them were enacted some of the noblest deeds, within sound of them were uttered some of the noblest words, that distinguished that glorious period. Within them had gath- ered, as students, some of the noblest of those heroes of the Revolution, whose names are now immortal as the Alumni of William and Mary. Here, in youth, they had nursed those noble inspirations which consecrated their manhood to liberty ; and William and Mary, proud of their perfected fame, still like a fond mother, remembers the days when she taught them to be men, while they were hers alone, ere fame had yet claimed them for immortality and mankind. These old walls are not only walls, but monuments ! The associations of centuries cluster around them. The spirit of the past, instinct with mute eloquence, dwells enshrined within them ; upon them arc hung, as in the ancient temples, invisible memo- rial tablets of glorious names, and the memories of kindred heroes hang like clustering pearls around them. So let them stand forever, the firm foundation of William and Mary,-sym- bol of her patriotic service, of her unshaken faith, of her con- servative history ; linking all the glories of her past with all her hopes of the future, and speaking to those who look upon them now the inspiration of an age of which we are the heirs, to exalt us by the memory of glorious examples, and to frown down upon us, if need be. the rebuke of a history of which it were a shame to be unworthy. In this building, thus worthy alike in the past and in the present, we are assembled to-night, to dedicate to its appropriate uses the hall of the Phoenix Literary Society. In assigning to the literary societies the largest and hand- somest rooms in the new building, the Faculty have intended not only to express their respect for these bodies, but to testify their deep conviction of the inestimable importance of such institutions as par^of a right system of education. As such they cannot be too highly prized. A voluntary, free asso- ciation of young men, for any worthy purpose, is always an in- teresting and animating spectacle. Youth, health, ambition, emulation, the ardor and hopefulness of youth, so beautiful to behold, are springs of power which, when associated and com- 8 ADDRESS. bined into an organized machinery, and brought to bear upon a common object, must always produce effective results, for good or for evil, according to the law of their operation. Associated for such noble purposes as these, controlled and directed into healthy and harmonious action by the wise principles which govern your society, an organization combining such elements, constitutes an engine of intellectual and moral power beyond any other which can be brought to bear upon the education of young men. Such a society, self-constituted, self-governed, trains to true liberty, and the highest manhood, and develops every faculty into highest and most independent action, while it disciplines them all to the most harmonious co-operation. Such a society is yours. In their highest conception, below which I hope you will never be content to rest, the exercises and ends of the literary society may be said to comprehend all knowledge, and every department of learning may bo made sub- servient to its high purposes. In a most important aspect, such societies mediate between the school and the world of life, rest- ing upon the one, and stretching forth into the other ; and the deep influence which they exert upon the student is perpetuated in the mind and character of the man, and eminently realised in the practical discipline of life. They at once inform the mind and form the character. They not only develop the indi- vidual powers, but they adapt them to the relations of social and public life, Rescuing scholarship from the forms of scholasti- cism, and pouring its treasures into the channels of life, adapting knowledge to action, and informing action with the spirit of knowl- edge, they teach the student to be not only a scholar, profound in the learning of the schools, but a man, trained to the high duties of manhood and of citizenship. They represent, indeed, the very spirit of true education, which seeks in the universality of knowledge always the unity of a consistent and practical dis- cipline as the end of all study. As a theatre for such educa- tion, this hall is not only the peer of any lecture room in this College, but it is above and beyond any one of them, for in- deed, in its high exercises and its varied discipline, it compre- hends them all. Do the mathematics train the mind to deep analysis, and drill the powers to the serried march of logic?- do the languages develop the faculties of analogy and compar- ADDRESS. 9 ison, by varied and many-sided discipline endow the mind with quick perception and versatile adaptation, or by the loftiest models form the taste, and train to precision of thought and power of expression ;-do the physical sciences reveal the world of nature, in its infinite relations and subtle forces, unfolding the beautiful harmony of Nature's laws, and the divine power that dwells in all;-do the intellectual and moral sciences reveal that still more wonderful subjective world, that inner temple of the divine creation, wherein reason sits enthroned, realizing to man the mystery of self;-does history unfold the past, and make the buried dead instinct with the ever-living voice of wis- dom and experience ; does political economy trace the univer- sal law's that determine the wealth of nations and of individuals, and sound the deep lunar tides that ever fluctuate beneath the bubbling current of human affairs; does constitutional law define the theory of government, or explain the machinery of that system under which wre live ; does rhetoric crown the intellect with the graces of aesthetic culture, and open the beauties of literature to the perceptions of a refined and critical taste ;- above all this, does your own reading, ranging far beyond the limits of College text-books, and gathering treasure wherever genius may have strewed its jewels, store your mind with varied knowledge, or does your own thought and daily observation add to knowledge, which is property, that wisdom which is power: still, I repeat it, this Society, in its high objects, if rightly con- ceived, comprehends all knowledge and every discipline. These exercises, the debates, the essays, the extemporaneous discus- sions, call for the exercise of every faculty, and demand the results of the highest training of each in every department. They tax every power of reason, every artifice of logic; they compass every range of thought, and demand in language every resource of power, precision, beauty for their adequate and artistic expression. In their broad range, embracing every in- quiry and every discussion, they comprehend all knowledge; they sweep the circle of the sciences, natural and moral, for illustration, argument and metaphor, and appeal to all history for precept and example. For there is not a truth in the whole domain of knowledge which does not bear relation to other truth, and may not be made to serve its illustration ; not a link of any 10 ADDRESS. discipline which may not be welded into the consistent chain of reasoning; not a flower culled from any field of beauty which may not be woven into the wreath of eloquence. And here " you have taken all knowledge to be your provinceyou em- brace within your exercises every subject of interest, curiosity or speculation, taxing every power and exhausting every re- source at your command. If this be true, and it is true, if you will only realize in your- selves the dignity of this conception, am I not right in calling this hall the peer of any lecture-room of science ? Am I not right in calling the Literary Society an epitome of every department of collegiate instruction? Nay, more-it interprets them all in their practical relations to universal truth; and by adapting them all to the service of independent thought, for every purpose of illustration or argument, it makes them a part of the permanent life and property of the mind, and the instru- ments of its power. It is a reservoir into which they may be said to converge, through which they are made to flow back into the streams of life, bearing the treasures of knowledge through every channel of thought into every field of speculation or of inquiry. As the exercises of the Literary Society are thus high and varied, alike in the objects they embrace and in the discipline they afford, so, too, are its ends high and comprehensive, beyond the range of any single science or any single art. The attainment of eloquence and the cultivation of literature, are the objects which if proposes; and these objects, rightly conceived, are, in dignity and far-reaching influence, the high- est earthly to which the human mind can aspire. Eloquence is, in one word, the power and the beauty of the human intellect, the very flower of all the faculties in their highest energy, and in their most perfect harmony. It is not a science, thotigh its laws rest upon the deepest principles of our common human nature; it is not an art, though its expression is artistic in the highest conception of the beautiful; it is not in thought, though the grandest thoughts are its instruments; nor in language, though it is the very majesty of human speech; nor in feeling, though ^the deepest symyathies are its medium and its touchstone. It is more than all these-in them all, yet above them all. It is action, energy, power; the human intellect ADDRESS. 11 in its grandest expression; the human heart in its deepest emotions; science and art transfused and transfigured into speech: thought, language, gesture: intellect, imagination, pas- sion: reason and persuasion; all combined into one mighty engine of power, which inspiration alone can move, which genius alone can wield. No analysis can define it; for its essence is a spirit and a power which defies analysis, and can be understood only when realized in its perfect and immediate action. A great occasion, appealing to the interests and sym- pathies of men; grand thoughts, apt to the subject, and fitly clothed in earnest words-above all, truth in thought and word and purpose; deep conviction and earnest feeling springing in the very soul, expressed in tone, in look, in action, and working by sympathy upon the minds and hearts of men, convincing the reason, persuading the will, inspiring the imagination, and lead- ing the whole soul captive to the enthusiasm of a master-mind-- all these belong to Eloquence, yet all these do not define it. Its only measure is its power ; and to this human nature every- where and all history bear concurrent testimony. It is through Eloquence that in all ages great minds have acted most powerfully upon the mass of men; through eloquence that individual character has wrought its deepest impress upon the history of nations. Eloquence, the power of speech, work- ing upon men through the leaven of human sympathy all perva- sive and all powerful, has won triumphs which swords could not win; has controlled multitudes where law was powerless; has animated enthusiasm where patriotism was dead, and has led men to great deeds and heroic sacrifices when every other motive was paralysed. It is a great moral agency, working through man upon men; and, as a power in history, could its influence be traced, it would be found to have wrought effects scarcely inferior in magnitude and permanency to the combined results both of arms and diplomacy. Better than these, it is a moral power; for while force may constrain the will, and com- pel to a reluctant obedience, Eloquence, appealing to the moral nature, moving and exalting the will, elevates the man into a freeman, and imparts itself the power which it evokes into action. A moral power, its influence is not limited by the occa- sion that calls it forth, nor are its triumphs exhausted by any 12 ADDRESS. single trophy. Its empire is as enduring as truth, and as wide as universal sympathy. Its voice may be silenced, or its influ- ence for the present defeated, by the force of arms, or the hand of power; but the truths it utters arc eternal, and its appeals, addressed to our common human nature, speak even to future generations the voice of its power. Demosthenes went down before Philip-the Athenian orator before the armed king, whose Extraordinary power he had denounced in vain; the Philippics were silenced before victorious arms at Cheronma. But now, Macedonia is a conquered province; her very boundaries are erased from the map of Europe; the grave of Philip is trodden under barbarian heels, and the sceptre has de- parted from his house; while Demosthenes reigns, a king upon an eternal throne, and those Philippics, clothed in the immortal power of truth, enduring as the love of liberty itself, still thun- der against every tyrant, and inspire the hearts of patriots in every land. Cicero was beheaded upon the lonely sea-shore at Caieta, and the very hands that had penned his orations were cut off, by the minions of Mark Antony, who vainly dreamed that now the voice of Boman liberty was hushed; yet he and his Cleopatra, with all their pearls, have mouldered into forgot- ten dust, while Cicero, through his orations, preserved in the hands of every student, of every statesman, the revered model of the purest eloquence, speaks to us to-day in tones which no leagued triumvirate can hush, wielding an empire wider than ever Caesar swayed. If this is so, if such be its power, am I not right in saying that true eloquence is above every science and every art; and that it is a more worthy object of human effort, as it is a higher expression of individual power, than any one or all of them; and that an institution which has for its object the cultivation of this power is more important in the education of young men than any department of collegiate instruction ? It is true, that Eloquence is not a mere art. It cannot be learned. Its faculty is inborn. Its highest type is a revelation from heaven, which no study can attain where the divine afflatus is wanting; but it is equally true that its expression rests upon artistic principles, and that its means may be cultivated and improved. The greatest orators have always realized this truth, ADDRESS. 13 and the consciousness of inborn power did not lead them to despise those aids of discipline by which their faculties might be brought into most perfect expression. There is no man of ordinary capacity who may not, by study and self-discipline, attain to some degree of force and freedom as a p iblic speaker. The triumphs of the actor show how much may be effected by the cultivation of the merely external forms, the person, the voice, the look, the gesture, the habit of self-command, of bold and deliberate utterance; but all these are only outward forms, powerful, indeed, as aids to expression, but not the essence of eloquence. He who would attain to true eloquence, must pene- trate to its fountain, which is within himself, and there open up its living sources. To sincerity of conviction and enthusiasm of purpose, moral qualities, which only moral culture can develop, must be added the power of clear, strong thought, and the mas- tery of forcible, apt, and adequate language. And here I can- not too strongly emphasize the intimate connection between thought and language. They are as soul and body, as substance and form, intimate and essential; and there can be no true development or excellence in the one without a corresponding development and excellence in the other. Language is the immediate sign and essential form of thought; thought finds in language its immediate and only adequate expression. He who thinks clearly and strongly, will be sure to speak clearly and strongly. Confusion and weakness of language spring from confusion and superficiality of thought, however vanity may seek to veil the truth from ourselves; and that com- mand of language, clear, apt, forcible, which is the gift of eloquence and the charm of every society, can be attained only as the expression of thoughts themselves clear, simple, forcible. A ready tongue may beguile the ear and charm the senses for the moment with superficial phrases and well- turned periods; but that language which convinces and per- suades, which instructs and delights, can be the gift only of a mind habituated to exact thought, and trained to the mastery of its powers. And herein, gentlemen, simplicity is the chief virtue. Simplicity is the secret of strength, in thought, as in language; simplicity is clearness; simplicity is force; simplicity is truth. Without simplicity there can be no true 14 ADDRESS. eloquence. Every great thought is simple, and the simplest language is its natural and most adequate expression; while the meretricious ornaments of a false rhetoric, obscuring the thought and confusing the language, are alike abhorrent to truth and offensive to good taste. Let him, then, who would open within himself the deep source of true eloquence, cultivate habits of simple and exact thought. Let him seek to attain clear and decided convictions upon every subject which he studies, and accustom himself, even in ordinary conversation, to the right use of the purest and simplest lan- guage. Disciplined to these habits, if called upon to speak, his mind will be ready to think at once, clearly and rapidly, and to the purpose; and such thoughts will be sure to find their easy expression in apt and forcible language. That embarrassment, which is the offspring of confused thoughts, will vanish before the clear perceptions and the strong purpose of a well-trained mind. Self-control, the result of habitual discipline, will secure dignity of manner and ease of delivery, and the ready command of language will give eloquent expression even to the plainest thoughts. Thus, if we cannot attain to the highest eloquence, we may at least master its elements. And there is no one, however humble his aspirations, who does not need to do so. In this country, every man, whether he seeks it or not, may be called upon to address assemblies of his fellow-citizens, in deliberation or in debate, in public meetings, or even at the festive-board. Our love for speech-making is proverbial, and few educated men can escape the inexorable call. On such occasions, every man should be prepared to acquit himself as becomes his posi- tion; and for this purpose, every man, whatever his native powers, needs to have trained himself by habitual discipline in thought and in language, which alone can give the power of ready and forcible speech. But in public life, at the forum, upon the hustings, in the legislative hall, not to trench upon the sacred precincts of the pulpit, public speaking is the chief means of influence, and eloquence is the passport to power. For those, then, who cherish public aspirations, the attainment of eloquence becomes the chief object of ambition; for it is the great lever of popular ADDRESS. 15 favor, and its mighty influence upon the opinions and passions of the people opens at once the highroad of honor and power to the successful orator. This is peculiarly true in this country, under our democratic government. The power of eloquence has ever been most conspicuous where men have been most free, for only freemen are free to listen to its appeals, or to obey its motives, and only freemen are capable of conceiving its spirit, oi- free to speak out its inspirations. It is itself free thought and free speech, in their most perfect energy. Eloquence is, indeed, the very voice of liberty; and the freest countries have ever produced the most and the greatest orators. Every epoch in the constitutional history of Great Britain has been signal- ized by the eloquence of illustrious British orators; and in our own country especially, under the impulse of democratic institu- tions, oratory has surpassed every other form of literature. The highest models of modern eloquence are to be found in our language; and by that subtle law of action and reaction, which adapts a language to the wants and uses of a people, and makes its development characteristic of theii' history, our English lan- guage has developed a power for spoken eloquence confessedly beyond any other ever spoken, the Greek alone, perhaps, ex- cepted. So that the young American who would attain to true eloquence, has at once the best models for its study, the fittest language for its expression, the widest field for its exercise, and the highest rewards as the prize of its attainment. Let those of you, young gentlemen, who possess or may acquire that gift, remember, that in this country especially, where it works so mightily upon the public mind, eloquence is the patriot's highest trust; that it is a talent, lent for his coun- try's good, a divine seed implanted within him, to be reared for the eternal harvest of truth and justice, and not alone for the perishing food of personal ambition. Here, freed from all con- straint, and under every impulse to its freest exercise, public oratory has become a mighty,engine of power-mighty indeed for good, but equally mighty for evil, according to the moral purpose which inspires and directs it. May you here, in this society, aspire to that true moral eloquence which is virtue as well as power. May you cultivate here principles and sentiments of character, as well as habits of thought and language, which 16 ADDRESS. shall elevate you in public life above the base arts of the dema- gogue, who perverts the divine gift of eloquence to dazzle and mislead the popular mind; to disguise falsehood and selfishness under the deceitful form of plausible words; to arouse blind prejudice and mad passions, that he may ride to power, reckless of consequences, upon the surging billows of party; and which shall raise you to that true ideal of the orator, who teaches the people the right, the true, and the just; who, speaking from a noble soul, appeals only to the nobler nature ; who, revering humanity, shall speak to the intelligence that constitutes a people, and not to the base passions that make a mob; who, pleading for right, perverts not the truth by cunning sweetness of the tongue; who, swearing by liberty, takes not her name in vain, as though she were a harlot; who, claiming to serve his country for his country's good, remembers the moral foundations upon which her prosperity must rest, and holds the public weal, and those enduring principles of truth, justice, patriotism, in whose august name he speaks, as higher than any triumphs of eloquence, dearer than any personal ambition. Such an orator is indeed the apostle of a mission divine; the demagogue is a demon, whose arts are devilish! Such an eloquence is worthy of an angel; to attain such a power were the very transfigura- tion of human ambition. But mightier even than the power of Eloquence, because more enduring, is the influence of the Pen. This has been suggested, and is, indeed, partly included, in what has been already said; for it is only by the aid of the Pen that Eloquence itself can be rescued from oblivion. Eloquence speaks upon the inspiration of an occasion-it springs from a definite purpose, and aims at a definite result ; and when its immediate object has been attained, its tones, un- less embalmed by the pen, die away with the occasion which in- spired them, or live only in fond tradition which seeks in vain to perpetuate their echoes. But the Pen constructs monuments which survive the lapse of time, and speak to all ages with a voice as universal as human language itself. Dynasties may change, nationalities may be obliterated, languages themselves may perish from the earth, but literature survives in perpetual possession ; for it is a part of the common property of the ADDRESS. 17 universal mind. The influence of the warrior or the statesman, if it be not spent, will at least be lost to sight in the vanishing labyrinth of ultimate causation, which no human eye can trace ; but the work of the pen remains itself an enduring monument to fame, and its influence survives as a moral pewer, which time only consecrates and extends. Alexander perished in the midst of his victories ; time has wrested back his conquests; the thrones he established are fallen forever ; the very language which he bore in triumph to the ends of the world has ceased to be spoken upon the earth ; yet Aristotle, the philosopher, who trained him to greatness, the herald of a progress mightier than the march of a Macedonian phalanx, still survives in his written works, extending the empire of his mind through every language, in every land. Pisistratus, however unjustly, is known as a statesman only by the title of "the Tyrant," who rose to power upon the ruins of liberty; but that Homer, whose precious poems he rescued from oblivion, will, carry his name on the sweet music of the Iliad and the Odyssey to the latest breath of posterity, immortal as the " wrath of Achilles." There is nothing so immortal, which we mortals can produce, as enduring works in literature and in art; there is nothing- mortal, so like immortality itself, as that fame and that influ- ence which follow upon great achievements in the world of letters. That which an individual or a nation has conceived of truth, and incorporated into forms of beauty, whether in writ- ten language or in the plastic arts-for all art is literature in the highest sense-cannot die, because it is the property of univer- sal humanity. It belongs to the domain of truth and beauty, whose empire is universal and eternal, so long as men can think and feel and aspire ; and becomes henceforth the common her- itage and treasure of every tongue and nation and kindred, wherever there is intellect to understand, and sensibility to ap- preciate. The noblest work of any nation is its literature ; for this is the very life of its mind, wrought into enduring form. A nation's literature is its history, the history of its spiritual being ; and the works in .literature and art which it has produced are the highest monuments it can leave of itself, the truest expression of its intellectual character, its best con- tribution to universal history, and its noblest gift to posterity. 18 ADDRESS. To enjoy this fame, to wield this influence, is the highest achievement. Though less rapturous than the triumph of the orator, in the moment of exulting inspiration, the triumph of the writer is more satisfactory in the consciousness of a wrnrk done which shall endure forever ; though less transported upon the applause of the moment, he wins more of the meed tf true fame ; though less mighty in immediate and apparent effect upon a few, his influence is wider and more enduring, for his audience is the world, and his words live forever. And as the empire of the pen is thus more universal than that of the tongue, so it is more democratic in its suffrages; as its prizes are more enduring, so it is more impartial in the distribution of its honours. The highest attainments of eloquence pre-suppose gifts of person, voice, manner, temperament, from which many are by nature precluded; but the kingdom of the pen is a spir- itual kingdom, whose high places are closed against no physical infirmities. Kant was a curiosity in appearance, a very bear in personal habits; Neander looked like an idiot, and dressed like a heathen; yet the " Philosophy of Reason," and the " History of the Church," have made these men immortal, as the instructors and benefactors of mankind, and only the pic- ture upon the title page betrays their infirmities. Prescott was bhnd, Byron was lame and morbidly diffident, Coleridge was the paralyzed victim of opium, Goldsmith " talked like poor Poll,"yet he "wrote like a God," and the Vicar of Wakefield is in every house. The arena of letters is open to every competitor, how- ever weak in worldly power, and its prizes may be won by any hand that is strong enough to hold a pen. But not the less therefore docs it require intellectual and moral qualities, both of endowment and of discipline, of the highest character to en- sure suqcess with the pen; nay, rather the more because the writer is devoid of those external effects, and those personal sympathies, which so mightily aid the orator. Original thoughts and noble sentiments, expressed in strong and noble language, can alone entitle a writer to the attention of his contemporaries; and the very highest endowments, both of intellect and of tempera- ment, are essential to that authorship " which shall live forever upon the lettered page." But besides those natural endowments, which indeed no effort ADDRESS. 19 can supply, there is much that discipline can, in a great meas- ure, effect. That continuity of thought, that symmetry of form, that witchery of language, that winning sweetness and grace of expression, which give to thought new dignity and beauty, and which, in some authors, throw a charm inexpressible around the simplest subjects ; these are qualities which, in a great measure certainly, may be obtained by discipline and effort. This is an art, and the highest art. This is style ; not a mere trick of words, nor the flow of rhythm in graceful periods. Its secret and source is in that discipline of the mind to order, that har- monious development of the faculties, that educated sensibility to beauty, which shall give to every thought order, unity, sym- metry ; to language, fitness, grace, music ; to style, in a word, a soul of truth, and a form of beauty, which is the summit of all rhetoric, the spiritual type of the highest art. This art can be cultivated ; and, as in every art, it is the study of the highest models in every department of excellence, which at once educates the taste to the appreciation of their beauty, and trains the mind to the mastery of those principles by which they are conceived and perfected. Not for the servile imita- tion of any master; but such a study of the highest models in literature, such a communion with the great masters of thought and language, that the soul itself shall become instinct with their spirit, and the mind shall be moulded by their contact. A mind thus habituated to beautiful forms, in thought and in language, will adapt itself spontaneously to such forms as the natural law of its own operations. Trained to perceive the Beautiful everywhere, it will instinctively, as it were, reproduce its images. Formed by such standards, Order will be the law of its own conception, Beauty the natural form of its expression. This is not imitation; it is transfusion and appropriation. It aims at the highest development of all the powers by sub- jecting them to that perfect law of order, which is the condi- tion of the highest development of each; and the boldest originality need not be ashamed of such a reverent study. But even for those who do not aspire to authorship, nor propose an exclusive devotion to literary pursuits, the culti- vation of style and the habitual exercise of the pen cannot be neglected. As a discipline merely for the mind, this exercise 20 ADDRESS. is of the highest value. He who writes well will speak well; and he who writes most and best, will speak best and most easily. The pen is the touchstone of thought. It is easy enough to think superficially and hastily upon any subject, but the effort to reduce one's thoughts to writing will compel us to think deliberately and accurately, to mark well the connec- tion of ideas in the effort to construct them into consecu- tive sentences or harmonious periods- In order to clothe our thoughts in appropriate forms of language, we must give to the thoughts themselves order, form, unity ; to be clear and com- pact in style, we must be clear and compact in thought; and for this no test is so infallible as the pen. No study in litera- ture, no practice in speech, can impart that power and ease of expression, which is the touchstone of strong thought and the highest mark of true discipline, without the frequent and inde- pendent exercise of the pen. This is the highest discipline, for it is self-education both in thought and in language- Added to this, the conscientious criticism of our own writings, by the highest standards of style will give that due estimate of our own powers which is the measure of true knowledge, and keep alive that true humility which is the spring of true am- bition and the best guarantee of success. But the ambition of authorship, and the aspiration for lite- rary fame, are not the only pursuits which consecrate the pen. Though the heritage of mankind is in the past, and its hopes are garnered in the future, yet its most vital interests are in the present, which is at once the heir of all the past and the embryo of all the future. That Prayer, the Liturgy of lips divine, which reaches from eternity to eternity, compassing every mortal want and every immortal aspiration, does not for- get the petition for " this day our daily bread." In the pres- ent we live, a series of ever present moments constitute that life which shall bring us into an eternity, itself ever present; a succession of epochs and events, ever present to their actors, make that history which writes the destiny of the world. The present moment is the measure of moral accountability; for it alone is ours. All else is memory, in joy, regret, or remorse- anticipation, in hope, purpose, or fear. " Act ! act I in the living present," is the voice of Philosophy and Religion, as ADDRESS. 21 well as of poetry; and the pen has its present uses, not less noble, if less ambitious, than the highest aspirations of au- thorship. There is an ephemeral literature, which, born of the present and aiming to work only in the present, is not less noble in its mission, nor less mighty in its influence, than the most treas- ured monuments of genius which the applause of centuries may have consecrated. The newspaper press has become the mightiest moral engine in the world. It is the universal me- dium for the dissemination of intelligence, for the interchange .of opinion, for the public discussion of the most vital questions of human interest, foi' the instruction of the public mind, and for the expression and the control of public opinion. The editor of a public journal stands at the very centre of moral influence, and " wields from its fulcrum a lever that is bound- less in its sweep." In our own country especially, where that liberty of unlicensed printing, for which Milton plead so elo- quently, is assured as the inalienable right of freemen; where the issues of party politics furnish such abundant material for public discussion ; where the manifold interests of a vast and growing country expand and stimulate the public mind to thought and inquiry; where public opinion, ever awake to every question, is ever seeking public expression, newspapers have multiplied in numbers and increased in influence, beyond all parallel in history. The newspaper is the great lever of the popular mind, universal and powerful beyond any other; and this ephemeral press supplies reading, thought, instruction, and opinion, for thousands of busy men who never open a book. Daguerreotyping thought upon paper by the magic machinery of the type, reproducing its impressions with a rapidity which would paralyze Cyclopean arms, by engines instinct with a power more cunning than Vulcan, the daily press plies its cease- less batteries, and spreading the wires of its spiritual telegraph into every household, it sends its magnetic messages from mind to mind, charging the whole body of society, and flooding the land with the unseen but mighty wave of its influence. Already the press has acquired a fearful power-a power mighty for good, but no less terrible for evil; mighty to instruct, to exalt, to educate-to knowledge, patriotism, peace ; terrible to mis- 22 ADDRESS. lead, to beguile by false show, to arouse prejudice and passion, and to furnish food for those consuming excitements, which burn out the heart of a people. And it is much to be feared lest, in this country, this mighty organ has been in too many cases perverted to abuses, which, unless corrected by a whole- some public opinion, may well cause the patriot already to tremble before the consequences. Instead of being the organ of a wise and enlightened public opinion, the instructor of the public mind, disseminating true knowledge, and educating to a conservative love of liberty, the press has become, in a great measure, the tool of party, the servile mouthpiece of selfish in- terests, feeding the excited passions of party strife, and de- grading the issues of principle to the selfish struggle for power. The observant reader of newspapers has not failed to perceive the proofs of this degeneracy ; and in the signs of the times there is reason to fear lest this evil, already so great, should become still more terrible; lest the press, from being the voice of the people, which is the voice of God, should become alto- gether the clamor of faction, which is the howl of a demon ; lest that power into whose hands we have entrusted the beacon lights of liberty, should bear aloft the torch of the incendiary; lest that mighty agency to which we had looked as the sword and bulwark of our free government, should be turned against ourselves, to undermine our institutions, and to hasten on that day-Deus avertat omen-when the public mind, beguiled by a false philosophy, and blinded by excited passions ; the public confidence lost; the truth distorted ; justice and moderation ban- ished from the public councils as from the public press ; pat- riotism itself confused, blinded, staggered, by the false lights and raging fires of party ; the poisoned fountains shall at last burst forth, and the nation rent by anarchy, shall be driven to seek refuge from its horrors beneath the power of a despot. And if the worst must come to the worst, if ignorance is to be deluded with a deceitful confidence of knowledge, and taught the watchword of principle for the service of party; if brute force is to be armed with the weapons of destruction, and urged on to the work of ruin; if passion is to be exalted to the throne of reason, patronage to be substituted for patriotism, liberty to be prostituted to the harlotry of license-then God deliver us ! ADDRESS. 23 for if there is any tyranny that is monstrous and intolerable, without remedy and without appeal, it is the tyranny of the many-the tyranny of a multitude, beguiled by false leaders, and mad with misguided passions ; for this tyrant is irresponsible and nameless, without reason and without feeling; a Protean mon- ster whose heart no patriot dagger can reach ; a hydra, whose multitudinous heads no Hercules can sear. How far this is so, how far this tendency has wrought already in our country; how far our party press represents the sentiments of the majority of intelligent and patriotic men, or how far rather the interests of the unprincipled demagogue, or self-seeking partizan ; how far it speaks for country, or' rather how far it clamors for party, how for it instructs, elevates, and confirms the public mind, or rather how far it misleads, inflames, excites it; how far indeed that excited temper which too often distinguishes our people ; those intemperate opinions which characterize party discussion, that lawlessness which runs riot in oui' cities, turning to mock- ery the very name of liberty, and trampling in blood its most sacred institutions ; those crimes in frequency unparalleled and increasing, which bring disgrace upon our laws ; that impa- tience under restraint, which can brook no authority ; that ma- terialism which knows no reverence ; that discontent ever seek- ing after change ; that disregard of human life, which commits wholesale slaughter upon our public highways; that recklessness in speculation, which again and again brings on first the crisis and then the crash, unsettling property, destroying credit and shaking the very foundations of society; that spirit of aggres- sion and rebellion which deluges our borders in blood, and hoists the red banner of insurrection ; that wild fanaticism which at- tacks every institution human and divine, prostituting philan- thropy to abolitionism, matrimony to the disgusting orgies of free love, and preaching, even from the pulpit, doctrines and superstitions repugnant alike to religion and to humanity;-how far all this (and who has not seen all this somewhere or other in this wide country ?) is due to causes which the false teach- ings and degrading influence of an immortal press have helped to excite and to inflame; a press which, uniting the spirit of the partizan to the arts of the demagogue, conspires with these to urge on the strife of party, reckless of ruin ; a press, which, 24 ADDRESS enslaved to the passions of the hour, makes heroes of agitators and martyrs of traitors ; a press, which in matter and style ever seeking to make a sensation, applauds all novelty, and exagger- ates all excitement; and which, to feed the depraved appetite which it excites, panders to the basest instincts of men, by pub- lishing abroad novels and tales which stimulate the suggestions of an impure imagination, accounts of prize fights with humam pictures of inhuman brutality, and by parading before the public eye details of lust and crime, which cast shame upon humanity and bring the blush to every virtuous cheek; how far such ef- fects are due to the influence of such causes, I do not under- take to say-but I do ask, and it behooves every man to con- sider before it be too late. Folly and recklessness unheeded may arm the demon off ruin, and light the fires of hell; but where is then the wisdom that shall quench the burning, or the physician that shall " minister to the mind" of a people infected and diseased ? To correct this evil, to stay this mighty tempest of moral ruin that is sweeping over our land, we must look alone to the influence of a wholesome public sentiment, which, educated to truth, moderation, patriotism, shall frown down these appeals to ignorance, prejudice and passion ; to an enlightened, purified public taste, which, true to the instincts of virtue, shall reject these offerings to Moloch, and cast this putrid offal to the dogs. By all the agencies of morality, good taste, education, religion, we must fight against these things ; but especially, and most directly, through the counter influence of a virtuous press, which, meeting them on their own ground, shall anticipate and beat back their pernicious influence, and which, fulfilling its own high mission, as the vested guardian of truth and liberty, of purity and religion, shall by its high ministry exalt the public mind above all sympathy with what is'false and vile and filthy, so that the public appetite shall no longer crave such carrion food; such a press as, I am proud to say, Virginia still, in great measure, possesses.. What a grand field is here open for the ambition of the youthful patriot; what a noble effort this, to elevate the tone of our public press, to check its degeneracy, and resist its cor- ruption ; to exalt it by the teachings of a sound philosophy into ADDRESS. 25 a noble organ of truth and light, fit io instruct, and by the standards of a pure taste, to a chaste literature, worthy to form and to exalt the sentiments and sympathies of a great and free people. Whether as an editor, in its true conception one of the highest offices that can dignify a freeman,-a profession to which Hugh Miller was proud to belong,-or as a contributor to columns which are ever open to those who, by good sense and pertinent thought, can prove their right to address the public, or simply as an individual, bringing to bear by a clear judgment,an^ enlightened criticism, and a discriminating pat- ronage, the weight of your own influence in disseminating what is good, and resisting what is evil, every educated man can con- tribute more or less to this great end. But to do even this, you must have that disciplined mind and that educated taste which shall make you a competent judge; as a writer, to instruct others, you must have that power of thought, that wealth of know- ledge, and that command of language, in a word, that excellence of style which shall first attract and secure their attention. These powers, the right use of your Library, with the constant exercise of your Pen, can alone develope ; and this discipline your Literary Society by its exercises at once demands, encour- ages, and facilitates. Yet this is not all. To this high office, to these noble ends of patriotism and virtue, belongs a moral as well as an intel- lectual discipline, which your literary society may indeed assist but cannot entirely supply. For this you must look to the moral power within yourselves, and, without and above your- selves, to other and higher sources of influence. But of this, I must not speak here. But not for these purposes alone, however noble in themselves, would I commend you to your Library and to your Pen. The pursuit of literature has its own self-sufficient value, independ- ent of all the great ends to which it may be made subservient; and in its own pure pleasures, exalted and inexhaustible beyond all the pleasures of sense; in its ennobling and refining influ- ences upon the mind and the soul, it has its own reward and self-sufficient end. A cultivated taste is a moral sensibility- a spiritual attribute of infinite value as a moral power. As there is a "beauty of holiness," so there is a holiness in beauty 26 ADDRESS to him who understands aright its divine spirit. He who preached from the Lilies of the Valley, recognized Beauty as the handmaid of Truth, and appealed to the taste to interpret the teachings of divine wisdom. He who created the world so full of beauty- '•The air So living with its spirit, and the waves All dancing to the music of its melody, And sparkling in its brightness"- meant to consecrate the Beautiful for His creatures by the seal of His own love. Beauty is in all truth, as truth is in all beauty ; and indeed in their highest type and most perfect conception, in the divine mind, as even in the last aspirations of the human soul, they are one-beauty and truth, the moral harmony of the divine perfections. The love of truth and the love of beauty are the two things that are divine yet in the human soul-perennial flowers of Paradise, blooming in the wilderness of sin, links that bind us to our primeval Eden, at once the memorials of our fall, and the instincts of our aspira- tion after better things. The sense of the beautiful mediates between our sensuous and moral nature, imparting to the soul as do the bodily senses to the mind, the impulses of its life, and exalting the senses to the perception of spiritual things. The man who has retained this instinct pure and uncorrupted can never be wholly lost to noble motives, and many a time in minds closed against every appeal to reason, and hardened against every touch of conscience, the appeal of the Beautiful, through sense or through memory, has raised a swell of deep emotion in the soul, arousing conscience from its sleep, and awakening to new life the moral powers. It was the sound of music sacred from the associations of childhood, that dashed the poisoned cup from the lips of Faust. This divine instinct is in its very nature pure and exalting. It has no sympathy with evil, no fellowship with impurity. Corrupted it is lost; then the soul is poisoned at the very source of its purest emotions ; the senses and the imagination are made to pander to its depraved appetites, and the ordained ministers of its glory become the polluted instruments of its ADDRESS. 27 shame. This instinct of the beautiful, this divine sympathy- needs then to be guarded as the very eye of the soul, to be shielded from every corrupting influence, to be trained and per- fected by exalted standards and pure associations, lest like every moral instinct, it becomes, when perverted, a curse to that soul which it was given to bless ; for " if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness." Its culture, therefore, and right development is for those who, whether as parents or as teachers, have the training of others, or for you and for all, who, in the universal school of life, are engaged in the endless work of self-education, a matter of the last impor- tance, and of the highest moral responsibility. Without this the highest development is impossible, the purest joys are un- attainable. Yet how much neglected, nay, even ignored is this divine instinct of our nature, by those who profess to educate the noblest powers, as if the soul had no spiritual sympathies, and the senses no nobler use than to minister to the service of the body. With this sense of the Beautiful, disciplined and developed by the highest standards of Beauty in literature and art, with this love of the Beautiful chastened and exalted by right teachings and pure associations, the soul would be in sympathy only with what is beautiful and pure and good ; the imagina- tion would roam enchanted only in the pure fields of innocence and beauty; the senses would delight only in objects of chaste enjoyment; the mind would attain clearer perceptions, and be inspired with a nobler love for truth; the conscience, enlight- ened and purified by such exalted communion, would mould the will into harmony with those pure impulses, and the whole character, transfigured into the image of its own ideal, would mirror forth that beauty which was treasured in the soul. A pure and cultivated taste affords to the mind at once its highest enjoyments, and its own best protection against evil; for where there is no sympathy there can be no contact and no contami- nation. Such a taste in literature would lead the mind to de- light only in the pure and healthful streams that flow from the perennial fountains of Truth and Beauty, and would banish for- ever from your libraries, and from your eyes, all that is false, unnatural, or degrading, in matter or in style, however her- 28 ADDRESS. aided by high titles, or sanctioned even by responsible names. How much of that light literature, which now fills our book- stores, would cease to be read, and therefore to be written, if the taste of the reading public were only educated and exalted by worthy standards to the appreciation of what is really noble, beautiful and good. To cultivate such a taste, to furnish you with the standards for its discipline, and with the food for its enjoyment, your lit- erary society offers you its library and demands of you those exercises which shall test, discipline, and perfect your own in- dependent powers of thought and of criticism. Ara I not right, then, in exalting this institution ? Am I not right in saying that it is, for your true education, not only the peer of any de- partment of science, but that it is above and beyond them all, as comprehending all knowledge and every discipline ? Am I not right in saying that when it is known that your library has been consumed by fire, this appeal will give you a claim upon your Alumni, your friends and the public, which cannot and will not be resisted. Eloquence, literature, the discipline of thought and language, and the cultivation of the taste, for all the ends of ambition, for all the services of patriotism and vir- tue, for all the pure enjoyments and exalting influences of liter- ature and art, how noble these objects ; these powers, how magnificent! Yet these arc the objects which your literary so- ciety sets before you ; these are the powers which, by appro- priate exercises, it proposes to develop within you. Were not this enough, if I should say no more ? But this is not all, nor yet the greatest. Eloquence, literature, knowledge, the utmost discipline of mind, with the utmost perfection of taste, do not yet compass humanity, nor make a man. To be a Man is, af- ter all, the best thing, that which most becomes a Man: to be a Man in the moral image of his Maker ; a Man with all the noble attributes of a Man, developed and trained to the high purposes of life; a Man in character and in action ; a Man in thought and in word ; a Man in all the strength and truth and gentleness of ft'ue manhood. This is the highest, this is the best, this is the end of every discipline, and includes every am- bition. Whatever may be your especial pursuit in life, whatever stand you may take in your own profession, you are at least ADDRESS. 29 called upon to be a man ; to bear a man's part in life's great battle ; to acquit yourself as becomes a man, in all the sacred relations which you shall sustain to your fellow men, and in all the responsibilities which shall be imposed upon you. And to be a man means, in this country, to be a man with high pre- rogatives and great privileges ; to be a citizen of a free coun- try, vested with all the rights, and entrusted with all the interests of liberty ; an individual, constituent member of a free society, in all the dignity, and sovereignty, and responsi- bility of a freeman. Whatever may be our several vocations, this one includes us all. Whatever- our individual interests, in this we all meet; and no man can, without treason, turn his back upon it. This true manhood, gentleman, this true citizenship compre- hends everything ; it is above every profession and every ac- complishment. It is the development of all the powers, moral as well as intellectual; of all the sentiments, of virtue as well as of taste; the exercise of all the noblest attributes ; the ex- emplification of every virtue, in all the relations of life; at home and abroad: in public and in private. This is the true object of life, above all the aspirations of fame. This is the true ambition, the ambition to be, and not to seem; the ambition to deserve, not to enjoy. Honor, fame, wealth-all these are the ornaments and the instruments of life; but manhood is the soul and end, without which all these are but as the ornaments that gild the whited sepulchre. With this the humblest man is a hero ; without this the highest position has no nobleness. This is the true virtus. This alone gives a man true value; for it is not in your power, not in your wealth, not in your learning, but in your manhood, in your truth, in your purity, in your af- fection that are garnered the hopes of those that shall love you, and the sacred interests of society and of country that shall be entrusted to your keeping. To this manhood, gentlemen, to this citizenship no teacher can instruct you. It is included in no science, in no pursuit, and no Faculty of Professors can confer its high diploma. To this you must train yourselves. This is the work of self-educa- tion, which is indeed the great work of life. This is the highest discipline, for it comprehends all discipline; the discipline not 30 ADDRESS. only of the intellect, but of the will; not only of the taste, hut of the conscience and of the heart; not only of all those pow- ers which give strength to the man, but of those courtesies which distinguish the gentleman, and of those virtues which adorn the Christian. And it is as an aid in this work of self-education, in this dis- cipline to manhood and to citizenship, that the literary society plays its most important part. Of all its objects, this is that one to which it is most peculiarly adapted, and which gives to it for you its pre-eminent value. While yet young men in the youth and health of all your powers, untrammelled by the obli- gations of society, unrestricted by those especial interests which engross the thoughts and often narrow down the development of men, you meet here upon the arena of a mimic life. Con- stituted into a sovereign society, self-organized, self-governed, you come here freed from every restraint, to bear your parts upon an experimental stage of action. Everywhere else you are under constraint; at home, by the obligations of relation- ship, and by that reverence for authority which is the best les- son of parental discipline;-in the lecture room, by that defer- ence for your professor, which is due to one who is appointed to be your teacher, and whose teachings, in his own sphere at least, have for you the weight of authority; in society, by that modesty which is the ornament of youth, and which teaches the young man to listen with deference to the opinion of his elders, that he may hereafter be able himself to deserve that respect which is due to a man; everywhere else you feel the restraint of authority, of form, or of public opinion, and this restraint itself is discipline. But here you are free ; here you are among your equals ; here you acknowledge no higher power, and bow before the presence of no authority. The motto of the Literary Society is, " in nullius verba jurare." Under no re- strictions except the self-imposed forms of parliamentary law; under no constraint except the presence of your fellows; with no one to molest or make you afraid, you here take your place in council and in action, as members of an independent society, with all the rights and duties of sovereigns. You are here called upon to bear your part on the arena of debate ; eye to eye, and face to face, to measure your strength in fair and ADDRESS. 31 open combat, and to take that place in the estimaton of your fellow-members, the " public opinion" of your Society, to which your own ability and your own merit may entitle you. As men and equals in your own strength alone, you stand in fair competition before a jury of your peers, whose impartial decision shall award to you victory or defeat, and whose opinion is your law. In this school, by these contests, hand to hand, besides all the discipline of intellect, you acquire that due estimate of your own powers, which is the measure of real strength, and learn that deference for the opinions of others, which is itself the test of sincere conviction. The formalities of debate educate to that courtesy of mutual intercourse, to that dignity and propriety in speech and in action which mark the educated gentleman ; and the practice of these imparts that self-control, that self- possession and ease, in language and in manner, which are at once the accomplishments of life and the instruments of power. The conduct of parliamentary forms-themselves valuable even as a mere routine-instructs you in that precision, that atten- tion to the minutiae of form, that order and system, in plan and in detail, that facility and accuracy in the despatch of business, w'hich are the true economy of the mind. The various questions which arise in the administration of your affairs, the decisions which you must make, whether officially or for the guidance of your own opinions, the discharge of your several duties, in de- bate, in office, in committee; all these discipline the power of independent thought and action, and develop those qualities of self-reliance, tact, and experimental common sense, which are so essential to success in the practical business of life. The very constitution of your society is a school for liberty and sovereignty. It is founded upon that principle of free as- sociation, which, in society and in governments, is the basis at once of individuality and of union. You constitute a republican government, by the authority and under the limitations of a written constitution; representing at once all the functions of legislative, judicial, and executive government you make, inter- pret, and administer your own laws. You participate, as leg- islators and as actors, in those conflicts of opinion and of policy which free government calls forth, and which test the strength 32 ADDRESS. of principles and of men. One after another you fill high offices of dignity and trust, to which the suffrages of your fel- lows have elected you, and for which they hold you responsible to themselves. Clothed with all the privileges of freemen in society, you sit yourselves in parliamentary sovereignty, exer- cising the highest functions of self-government, and training yourself, by the discipline of parlimentary forms, for the highest duties of the legislator and the statesman. From this point of view ; as a school for life, for the discip- line of those qualities and powers which make the free man and the good citizen, the literary society is supremely important. It is above every other school. Its honors are higher than any we can confer. Its discipline is moral as well as intellectual; social as well as personal. Its lessons are practical and expe- rimental ; it stands in immediate contact with life, and is the very threshold and try sting-place of that great arena of action whereon you are so soon to stand, alone in your own strength or in your own weakness, cither to bear away the prizes of honor, or to be soiled with the inglorious dust of defeat. This pre-eminent moral value of the literary society is uni- versally, though it may be unconsciously, recognized by young men. The literary society, as the freest arena of college life, gives tone to, and in a great measure controls, the public opin- ion of the students. I have observed that the relative stand- ing of individuals in the estimation of their fellowr-students is generally determined by their standing in the literary society; and that that controlling influence which one student some- times exerts over his fellows, is generally the acknowledgment of that superiority of mind and character which the literary society haj tested and confirmed. The honors most anxiously coveted are those which th? literary society confers by its free suffrages. The hero of the lecture-room, who passes his exam- inations, and bears away the college honors, has, it is true, his merit, and receives his reward ; but it is the-dteir of the deba- ting society upon whom his fellow-students look with most ad- miration, and of whom they most confidently predict success and fame. And why? Because they recognize the literary society as the arena of independent thought, and of personal action, which tests the manhood as well as the memory, and ADDRESS. 33 which developes not only those talents which make the success- ful learner, but those moral and intellectual powers also which make the strong man, and ensure success in every sphere of ac- tion. Such is the institution which we here celebrate, such its high objects, such its profound and varied discipline. Let me hope that you will yourselves rise to this worthy conception of the dignity and value of your literary society; that according to this high standard, you will be true in your relations to it; so that you may be worthy of its privileges, and reap for your- selves the fruits of its high discipline, in all the varied accom- plishments of intellect, and in all the qualities of true and noble manhood. In view, then, of these high considerations, in the name of these high objects, to these noble purposes, now delegated by your authority, I dedicate this Hall. I dedicate it to those pursuits which form the youthful mind, and fit the man for the duties of life. I dedicate it to Eloquence, to Literature, to Patriotism, to Brotherhood, and the fellowship of noble Emula- tion ; not only to the discipline of those faculties which make the man, and arm him in the panoply of his powers, but to the cultivation of those sweet courtesies which adorn his life, and of those pure sensibilities which beautify and exalt his soul. Let it be a temple, sacred to the Virtues and the Grraces. Let Minerva, calm goddess of wisdom, sit enthroned upon its shrine, symbol of that sleepless virtue which is proof against every im- pulse of passion, and of that wise moderation in all things which triumphs over every temptation to excess. Beneath her calm and watchful eyes let Apollo, god of Eloquence and the Arts, lead the choir of attendant Muses, each in her sphere, while the triple sisterhood of Graces attend to charm the lin- gering hours. Better still, by a sanction unknown to the im- aginations of heathen mythology, let the " blessed Spirit of Peace" rule within its walls. Let brotherly love prevail. Let your moderation be known to all men. Let the high standard of Christian manhood control all your proceedings and direct all bj your aspirations. Then, indeed, shall this Hall be not a temple only, but a sanctuary, where the indwelling of a Christian Spirit shall consecrate every noble pursuit and every 34 ADDRESS. manly ambition ; wherein " whatsoever things are true, what- soever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, if there be any praise," they shall all dwell and work together, spiritual min- isters, ordained to that noble discipline for life, which is itself a discipline for eternity.