< f^vv-. w .^.v ♦* > Although the speaker has prefixed a scriptural quotation to these few closing and desultory thoughts, he has not the ambition or the presumption to assume the office of a scrip- tural preacher, or to affect the port and bearing of a religious sermonizer. Such an assumption would neither befit his own position, nor be appropriate to the occasion which has called them forth. He has but adopted part of a broken text, in cor- respondence with, and conformity to the few broken hints and suggestions which he may throw out, flowing fitfully and irre- gularly, as they have, from a broken and frail cistern of nearly exhausted and troubled waters. Public duties, and objects of personal, ambition and tursuit. — Every man, young or old, has, of course} an opin- 34 ion to mako up and a duty to perform, touching the public concerns and interests of his country, which he is not at liberty to omit or to disregard ; and when called upon by its condition or the dangers which may threaten it, he is bound to examine from his best lights the questions presented to him, form his deliberate judgment thereon, and act according to its results, and as guided by the dictates of a well informed conscience in the premises. But there is always much false show of mock patriotism. put forth by the zealous and interested partisans of the day to cover their sinister designs and self-seeking, and which is but too often successful with their unsuspecting and uninitiated followers and supporters. Let all young men, however, who hope to establish for themselves in future life permanent and safe reliances of fortune, of character, and of tranquility, be cautioned against setting their hearts, or making their main dependencies upon political pursuits, objects and promotions, or the supposed benefits and emoluments ex- pected to flow to them from those unreliable and generally utterly delusive sources. Political ambition, and the promotion calculated upon from its pursuit, is a chase which when closely pursued, more often than otherwise perverts the high and honorable principles of the engrossed, impatient, and aspiring mind, which engages in it, and unfits it for the cool, patient and successful pursuit of better, more reliable, but less exciting objects. In our country, no man can travel all lengths with any party, without sometimes crossing the tracks of the straight path of duty and of conscience. And yet such are too often and too much its requirements as a condition on which to entitle its anxious and sedulous followers to their due share of the honors and emoluments which it may have to bestow upon its favorite votaries. " The madness of many for the gain of a few," is but too just an epitome of party ethics. Very few indeed, compared with the whole, are they of those who crowd its bustling and jostling ranks, who draw any of its beneficial and permanent prizes ; and those few, often through the leger- demain of some sly trick, dishonorable compromise of princi- 35 pie, or by the unfair turning and twisting of the great political wheel. This, every observing and disinterested spectator cannot fail to see, who looks but slightly at tho game which is going on and the shifting political phantasmagoria which are constantly and yearly passing before him. How ill-advised and short-sighted must it then be for a young man of correct sentiments, elevated views and high aims, to sacrifice better and more enduring objects, that he may fit himself to become one of the dancing, wire-moved puppets in such an inglorious exhibition ? Let him rather wait patiently and firmly in his own fast and well-anchored boat of principle and of honor, for the favoring tide to ap- proach and buoy him upward and onward, if it will, without striving to accommodate his course to its shifting and muddy surges, (and if it so happen that it never does reach him, it will be of little matter to him in the end ;) rather submit to this result, than to be forever following its various ebbs and flows, to the evident danger of his shipwreck at last, the loss of his « household gods," and his more valuable and honestly gained possessions and enjoyments. This is one of the allur- ing but dangerous rocks, which all young aspiring naviga- tors will do well to avoid. There are a thousand others of a more private and personal nature some of which may here be briefly hinted at. Personal habits aivd indulgencies. — It is probable that young men pretty universally esteem it a fortunate circum- stance, and a desirable object, that they now are, or soon may be enabled to command and enjoy the many personal gratifi- cations, indulgencies, and allurements of life, which fortune may have placed within their reach, or the means of which they fondly hope at no distant day to acquire and possess. This is a sadly false and delusive use and estimation of the true sources and means of the long continued and highest en- joyment of the good things of this life ; even of those which are too often esteemed as its summum bonum, the gratifica- tions of sense. With his plain and wholesome fare and health giving habits, the active and temperate farmer or mechanic en- 36 joys more in the long run, even of the pleasures of sensual appetite, than does the fastidious and feasting epicure and gormand, with his complicated and surfeiting viands. Besides this, that a continued course of selfish sensual gratification is inevitably followed up and confirmed into a fixed habit, utterly fatal to those higher, safer, and ever increasing enjoyments which grow out of the exercise of the intellectual, moral, and imaginative powers of the mind, its benevolent affections, and its lively interest in the beauties and harmonies of nature and of art, in all their admirable and inspiring works. Man was not created to yield everything to the suggestions of his present ease, or to the growing calls of his sensual cravings ; much less to be ever engaged in pampering and inflating them by gratuitous and needless provocatives. — From the time when our first parents were placed in the garden, his duty and his permanent well being has required of him, that he should resist manfully the proffered tempta- tion of the fair but treacherous fruit which is plucked and presented to him by the insidious hands of a thousand de- lusive charmers, "charming ever so wisely;" that he should maintain a constant and vigorous struggle, with the secretly armed adversaries " whose name is legion," and who in many cheating forms are ever watching for his annoyance and destruction. " Of comely form she was, and fair of face, And underneath her eyelids sat a kind Of witching sorcery, that nearer drew Whoever with unguarded looks beheld." To these he must ever be ready to give battle with all his forces, and not flatter himself that he can safely repose upon his downy couch in a state of easy quietude, or pampered and enervating indulgence. And woe be to him, as it cer- tainly will be, who mistakes this his irreversible and unwel- come destiny, and suffers himself to fall into the alluring lap of the Circean tempter who will soon bind him with her Phi- listine cords, when no Sampson's arm wherewith to burst them shall be left to him. Even the healthful fruits of the delight- 37 ful gardens of the Hesperides may be over used to the loath- ing and disgust of their imprudent partakers ; let them beware then of indulging themselves too largely or too frequently in their refreshing bowers, and of lingering too long in their seductive retreats. There are few more effective preachers than an academical or college catalogue, when its silent, but effective moral and practical teachings are seriously listened to by a contempla- tive observer, as he looks upon their thick starred columns after a few years' absence from his youthful classic retreats. How much the after usefulness, enjoyment, and respectability of future life, and even the long continuance of life itself in the ordinary course of providential dealings, depends upon the manner in which its early forming years may have been passed, will be made evident from the fact which such obser- vation will indicate, that but a very few, comparatively, of those young men who, when pursuing their collegiate or aca- demical course were distinguished for their idle, self-indulgent, and dissipated habits, will be found to have arrived in after life to a state of enviable reputation, or high distinction in any department of worldly honor or fame ; and a very large share of such will be found to have been quite short-lived, and to have passed early "ad astra" to a premature and inglo- rious grave. And any one who will make such examination of the fate of his classmates and cotemporaries in his acade- mical life, will find, perhaps to his surprise, that such is the almost invariable result. So true is it in the proverbial lan- guage of the wise man of old, that, " Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding." " Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches and honor." While of the froward and perverse it is at the same time and with equal truth, affirmed, " The man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead ;" and "Shame shall be the promotion of fools." It was amidst the musing contemplations suggested by lis- tening to such a silent preacher, that the following reflections were a short time since elicited. 38 LINES On $eeing a Catalogue of the Graduates of Yale College, after forty- eight years graduation there. Those deceased marked by stars. " Sic itur ad astra." As on my dim and fading sight, These thick starr'd columns rise, Sad thoughts my troubled heart o'erflow, And tears my weeping eyes. Fond memory now with vision strong, Surveys those ancient walls, Beneath whose calm and friendly shado, We trod Yale's classic halls. It tells, alas ! of other years, Of friends and follies past ; And ah! it tells of summer skies, By wintry clouds o'ercast. And still those ancient walls remain, Those pleasant halls are there ; But oh ! ye friends of other days, Where have ye vanished — where 1 This star marked chronicle, it speaks How frail is life's fond dream ; How many gay and joyous hearts Have sunk beneath its stream. As ships upon the stormy main, By wasting tempests driven, Or by the winged lightning's shock, The verdant oak is riven. So launching on life's boisterous sea, Youth leaves his peaceful shore, Spreads all his canvass to the gale, And parts to meet no more. One sinks beneath the whelming wave, In manhood's ardent prime; Another floats through care-worn years, Down the dark tide of time. Oh ! is there not some tranquil port, Where storm-tossed barques shall ride, Beyond the swelling of life's sea, Above time's wasting tide ? Some calm retreat, some classic ground, In heavenly verdure drest, Where long lost friends shall meet again, And weary wanderers rest ? 39 It is impossible for the young, aspiring and glowing mind, with its bursting storehouse of full health, animal spirits, and fond anticipations, to realize the possibility of those changes of health, fortune, or condition, some of which inevitably await all whom " flesh is heir to ;" at some period of their mortal existence, although indeed in quite unequal degrees. And yet an occasional contemplation of this aspect of human life may not be useless in checking those undue expectations, and chastening those riotous exultations of the inexperienced heart, to which all such are prone : — it may furnish too, an additional inducement to inquire for, and to avoid some of the shoals of life by which many of those changes may have been prematurely brought about, or greatly aggravated in their degree and intensity. Now in life's bright and rising morning, and to the young, healthful, and unchastened heart, all is joy, serenity and peace in the present moment, and confident hope and expectation for the future one. But in its appointed season — " A change comes o'er the spirit of its dream ;" a sad and sorrowing change ! — the rough hand of time, age, disease or adversity, or all combined, perhaps is laid upon its confident and self satisfied possessor ; he is driven, like the pampered monarch of old, from the busy scenes which once occupied him, and from the many enjoyments in which he once delighted to participate, to linger out a cheerless and unblesssed existence, and to " eat grass like oxen." In this condition, no untried subject can at all realize, delineate or conceive the vivid and absorbing sensations, under the force of which the otherwise listless and unemployed mind falls hack as it were upon itself, and forever calls up the shadows (now dark and sombre ones) of departed days, scenes and associations, which although once deeply interesting and de- lightful, had nearly vanished from the reccollection, or lain dormant, amidst the active and absorbing scenes of life's va- ried occupations, recreations, or amusements. Now in his secluded retreats, how brightly and intensely, and yet how sadly, hover over and around him — 40 " Those rainbow dreams, So Innocent and fair, that withered age, Ev'n at the grave cheer'd up his dusty eye ; And passing all between, look'd fondly baek To see them once again ere he departed." And yet how little were those days, scenes, associations and opportunities realized, and their intrinsic charms and value estimated, as they were in possession or passing, com- pared with those new estimates of them, which are elicited when viewed through the magnifying, retrospective telescope of their passed and vanished shadows ; and for the lamented loss of which the stagnated and exhausted fountains of life can afford no substitute or compensation ; for most certain it is, that — " We cannot from the dregs of life receive, That which its fresher runnings failed to give." Happy those who can fill this fearful vacuum by drawing refreshing waters from a deeper and more exhaustless foun- tain elsewhere ! The best partial preventative or palliative for most of these destined and some of them unavoidable af- flictions of humanity, whether constitutional or acquired, will be found in self denying temperate habits of life, an active and engaged scene of employment of all the bodily and men- tal powers ; and an habitual interest, association and sympa- thy in the well being, the wants and enjoyments of our fellow men ; and never forgetting amongst all the appointed means and requisites for assured happiness here below, that " From purity of heart all pleasure springs, And from a quiet conscience all our peace." But after all is done or attempted, we may adjust the parts, regulate the movements and oil the springs of this mysteri- ously complicated physical and spiritual machine as we may, the saddening view of its disjointed and decayed ruins, is a spectacle sure, near and fast approaching to all of them. And what a spectacle, indeed is that ! Look upon its earthly re- mains whilst yet left lingering here in its frail and perishing 41 tenement, upon its low and last couch, not much more uncon- scious perhaps of the joys and the beauties of the existence in and around it, than is the weary and worn burden, which it a little longer sustains. The once active, bounding, and elastic limbs, now torpid, stiff, and paralysed ; the intelligent, brilliant, and darting eye, sunk, glazed, and wandering ; the perception, once quick and penetrating, slow and obtuse ; the affections once ardent and glowing, cold and indifferent ; the imagination once revelling in a world redolent of life and beauty, plunging through a struggling morass of death, defor- mity and decay ; the aspirations once lofty and ennobling, crushed, degraded, and self abasing ; the senile tear and the deep-drawn groan fill up and finish the gasping and vanishing portrait ; and there, even there, upon that lorn and restless couch lies mayhap all that remains here of the hero, the statesman, the sage, the orator, or the minstrel. What a self humbling and abasing spectacle is that ! and how does its near contemplation sink into almost utter worthlesness, the most lofty capacities, the proudest attainments, and the widest domains of the most envied possessor of them all ? And yet in the humble semblance of this dark and forlorn portrait must all fie sh, with some slight variation of its distin- guishing "lights and shades," be at last sketched and presen- ted to our averted and unwilling gaze ; and in this struggling and " parting strife" must each and every one, with somewhat greater or less degrees of prominence, act or bear his final part and character. Why or wherefore thus constituted and thus destined by a benevolent and all-wise architect, " We know not ; but we soon shall know " When life's sore conflicts cease." And happy and fortunate, is he whom " wisdom's great teacher" has not only instructed how to live usefully to his fellow beings, and happily to himself here in this transient vale of disappointment and of trouble, — " * * # * * * But ah ! too high For human knowledge, taught him how to die !" 42 POSTSCRIPT. We omitted to notice in its proper place with the distinct, ness and prominence which it is entitled to, as evidence of the highly advancing and progressive state of our country for the last fifty years in the great cause of humanity and of so- cial improvement, the contrasted state of the charitable and benevolent institutions and associations existing within it at these different periods. At the former one, no associations for the promotion of Temperance, or for moral improvement as such, existed, it is believed, through the whole extent of the land ; no Asylums for the insane, no retreats for the mute and the blind, no general hospitals for the infirm, reared by the hands of benevolence and charity, opened their hospita- ble doors for the relief and consolation of suffering humanity ; if we except perhaps the one at an early day erected by the hand, and dictated by the enlarged spirit of William Penn, and sustained by the active piety of his admirable and phi. lanthropic Christian sect, the society of Friends. What these institutions and associations are now, and how diffusive in their effects upon human improvement, comfort and happiness it were superfluous to recount. The story is more emphati- cally told in the words of an intelligent and observing foreign, er who has lately visited our country, and whose national feelings would certainly not prompt him in this or any other respect to do it more than justice at any rate. Says Mr. Dickens in his « Notes on America." « Above all I sincerely believe that the public institutions and charities of this capital of Massachusetts, are as nearly perfect as the most considerate wisdom, benevolence and hu- manity can make them." The same credit, though in a less 43 perfect and lower degree may justly be awarded to most of the other states and portions of our country, whose territories are dotted over with these noble trophies of humanity and practical piety. We have no space or time to do more than to allude merely to the great advances we have made in the same time in ameliorating the sanguinary penal code of for. mer times ; the almost entire abrogation of capital punish- ment, soon it is hoped to be sought for only amongst the M lost things of the earth ;" and the admirable systems of state pri- son discipline and employment which have taken the abhorred places of the " gallows and the whipping post," those nearly discarded relics of a barbarous and bloody age. 23 W ■^ ^ : \. 4 *v-i. r\» * • • » ■» ■