r ^r \&-f 1 ADDRESS HDEIDia^^TIOlSr OF THE SECOND HALL OF THE FRANKLIN AND MARSHALL COLLEGE LAX CAST KIJ, PA . . JULY 28, 1857, l;Y ^^ I^EWIS M. STEINER. A. M., M^I>.- (Graduate Member of the Society ;) rf v^UJ^ PROFESf*OR OF CHEMISTRY, MARYLAND COLLEOB OF THARMACT ; LECTFUER OX '^^ niYSJCS AND CHEMISTRY, COLLEGE OF ST. JAMES; &C. (UIAMBERSBURG. V.\ P 1{ T X T R 1 > T? Y M . K T E F F I is:,7. AN ADDRESS IDEr)IC-A.TI03Sr / ^^ I ^ /. '^ A OF THE SECOND HALL OF THE V;VsTrrvr^' ^0et|an Ifiterarj §0cietg, OF FRANKLIN AND MARSHALL COLLEGE J/ LANCASTEE, PA., / JULY 28, 1857, LEWIS H. STEINER. A. M., M. D., (Graduate Meniljer of the Society;) PKOFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY, MARYLAND COLLEGE OF PHARMACY ; LECTURER ON PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY, COLLEGE OF ST. JAMES ; &C. CHAMBERSBURG, PA: PRINTED BY M. KIEFEER & CO 4 1857. Franklin and Marshall College, > Lancaster City, Pa., July 28th, 1857. J L. H. Steiner, a. M., M. D., Dear Sir — We, in behalf of the Goethean Liter- ary Society, tender you our ■warmest thanks for the able, eloquent, and in- structive address delivered at the dedication of our Second Hall, and respect- fully ask the favor of a copy for publication. Yours truly, CHARLES G. FISHER, THOxMAS C. LEINBACH, SAMUEL TRANSU, Committee of G. L. Society. To Dr. L. H. Steiner, A. M. Lancaster, July 29th, 1857. Gentlemen . — In reply to your letter of yesterday, requesting a copy of the address I had the honor of delivering at the dedication of your Hall, I have only to say, that it is at the disposal of the Society, although it is re- gretted by me that it was not worthier of the occasion. With best wishes for the future prosperity of the Goethean Literary Socie- ty, I have the honor, gentlemen, to be most truly Yours, LEWIS H. STEINER To Charles G. Fisher, T. C. Leinbach, Samuel Transu, Committee. ADDRESS. Gentlemen of the Gcethean Literary Society : — Eleven years ago, the friends and well-wishers of our common Society, being assembled within the walls of a noble building that had been erected through the energy and enthusiastic zeal of your pre- decessors, witnessed the services of a dedication. The manly undertaking of erecting an edifice, which should be the receptacle for a large and valuable Library, and an attractive collection of objects of scientific interest and which, at the same time, should answer as a place for the regular meetings of the So- ciety, had been accomplished after large expendi- ture, and months of toil. The honored and beloved President of Marshall College,"^ with due ceremonial, dedicated that edifice to " the highpurjDOses for which it had been erected," and then exhorted its owners to be true to their noble calling as students of Chris- tian philosophy and Christian science. The incum- bent of the chair of Aesthetics and German Litera- ture,f — the echo of whose fame had reached our coun- try from his distant home in the Prussian Capitol, and who had been induced, by the hope of doing true service to the cause of religion and science, to leave the attractive temptations of the great metropolis and to take up his abode among us, — on that occasion, addressed the Society on the beauties of the Divina Comedia, and the pleasing numbers of the mystic poet seemed, in some way, to associate themselves * Rev. J. W. Nevin, D. D. f Rev. P. Scliaff, D. D. 6 witji the occasion. Each Groethean felt that the Soci- ety was Ms Beatrice, and that if he should prove true to the obligations of religion, patriotism and mental culture imposed by his attachment to her, his future would abound in works such as no man need despise. It was a proud and happy day ! A new era had been inaugurated for the Society. Joy beamed on every countenance, and youthful hearts beat tumul- tuously as bright visions of an useful and prosperous Future presented themselves in Fancy's magic mir- ror. The dreams of three long, anxious, toilsome years were realized, and each laborer exulted that he had been permitted to aid in the realization and per- fection of such an embodiment of those attractive dreams. The Hall, however, which was then dedicated to such noble objects, and within whose walls there had afterwards been collected much that was valuable in Literature and Science, was not destined to be the permanent home of the Society. A wider and more attractive sphere of operations was offered to the Col- lege, and alma mater left her retirement to take up her abode nearer the busy haunts of man, — where the pulsations of energy and progress should directly react upon her children and incite them to such at- tainments in study as would most assuredly fit them for manly work in the world. She had been enticed from the shady groves, the verdant meadows inter- sected by gay rivulets that babbled as they flowed along, of happiness and peace, — from the old home with its every nook and corner full of joyous incident and endeared by some fond memory, connected with the past history of those of her children, who were doing honor to her instructions though absent from the home circle, — from the grand old hills that proudly lifted their heads, in the distance, above the picturesque landscapes which surrounded her home, and that seemed to guard the happy retirement from all intrusion of the world without. Tliere^ she had found delight in imparting such counsel as should fit each son with armor, stronger than that made of triple brass, against the assaults of the enemies they should meet when their pupilage w^as over ; and there, as the time for parting arrived and band after band went forth to take its place amid their breth- ren, she bid them God-speed with an anxious and yet a confident belief that His blessing would rest upon their paths, if these should be those of virtue and truth. Duty required her to sacrifice old scenes and old associations. With a pang of regret for the Past, but with high hopes of a brilliant Future, she followed the dictates of duty, and took up her abode amid the enterprize and industr}' of another commu- nity, Avhere strong hands were ready to aid her weak- ness and where the benefits of her teachings could irradiate fi^om so advantageous a position that the land throughout its extent might enjoy them. There was many a sad heart in the Goethean So- ciety when the necessity arose which made them re- sign their first home — consecrated by the labor of toiling years and endeared by the most agreeable recollections of the Past. Every stone, removed in the preparation of the ground for its foundation, could have told a tale concerning the self-denial and labor of its owners. The future, which mostly Avears a bright aspect to the eyes of youth, here seemed dark and forbidding. Clouds of forbidding omen obscured the visions that the eye of Hope might have depicted 8 in attractive colors. ^Notwithstanding all this, filial affection required that every connection with the old home should be severed. The parent's welfare de- manded this sacrifice, — why should the child debate a question which human impulse authoritatively and at once decides ? With noble self-denial, and laud- able sacrifice of its own, the Society relinquished the home so dear for its past history and present benefits, and hastened to find another, where alma mater would be surrounded with friends, stronger yet than those of her youth and more desirous of making her benign influence co-extensive with the spread of our own great country. Here, collected in a new land, as it were, the mem- bers of the Goethean Society quietly assumed the du- ties and the toils, which always accompany the com- mencement of an undertaking. They possessed a past experience, which was rich in bright examples of untiring perseverance and its results, in a knowl- edge of the rewards that attend youthful vigor when regulated by prudent forethought, and in a due appreciation of the dangers and disasters that follow unwise counsels and rash designs. They longed for a home, which they could call their own, and anxious- ly awaited the time, when they could demonstrate, to the satisfaction of their predecessors, that the old spirit still animated the sons of the beloved Society. Meanwhile, their energies being carefully husband- ed, they nerved themselves for the task, counted well the cost, and took prudent counsel of those who had been most efficient in the past history of the Society. The time at length arrived, and with proper ceremo- nies they laid the corner-stone of that building, the top-stone of which, so to speak, we have been assem- 9 bled this day to lay in the presence of a general re- union of the brethren of the Society. While we gaze upon this work of youthful energy, — this temple that the noble enthusiasm of American youth has erected for the cultivation of Literature and Science, we feel proud to declare that the Goetheans of the present day are no degenerate successors of their Society's founders. They deserve the thanks of the latter, for developing the germ of enterprize that had been carefully implanted at the time of the Society's first establishment, and they claim, from the friends of the College, the Church, and the citizens of this thriv- ing business community, active assistance and co- operation in all their future works, ofifering this as an earnest of their ability to accomplish any thing they undertake. To the Trustees of the College a pledge has been given, in the erection of this building, that its stu- dents are worthy of all the care and attention they can possibly bestow upon the Institution under their charge. Wherever manly feelings prompt manly deeds, — there all encouragement is due, — there the Future holds out most brilliant prospects of greater and greater triumphs. If such a work can be ac- complished during the pupilage of youth, what may not be expected when the full developed man, pos- sessing mens sana in corpore sano shall take upon himself the cares and duties of citizenship in our great Republic. Every thing is teeming with life and energy throughout the land, and the College, that sends forth its graduates w^ith cultivated minds and active habits, — with correct views of duties both so- cial and political, demands the most careful attention at the hands of its legal guardians. The more they 10 can aid it by prudent superintendence or by full en- dowments of professorships, the greater aid will they bring towards securing on an immovable basis the peculiar institutions and blessings of our country. To the citizens of Lancaster, however, the success of these Literary Societies is a subject of special con- gratulation. It has given them two Halls, which will open rich stores of knowledge for the whole com- munity, — where the rising generation may not only have access to the treasures of knowledge, which are laid up in books, but where the youthful soldier can learn the use of the armor required afterwards to withstand the hostile attacks of opposition, as well as of those weapons which he must himself employ in the great battle of life. The bold step taken by these students in erecting, on either side of the Col- lege edifice, structures which exhibit the strength of the sons, while they reflect so much credit on the College itself, should afford cause for pride with eve- ry citizen of this community. It forms a guarantee as to the permanent location of the College here, which could not have been given so well in any oth- er way, and it must prove a stimulus to active exer- tions in behalf of the Institution itself. Let not then the citizens of Lancaster, amid their enterprising ac- tivity and large accumulations, — amid their efforts to develop the great resources of the Keystone stone State, — let them not be forgetful of the institu- tions and social organizations in their midst which have been established for the education of the moral and mental faculties of the young, — for the uprear- ing of minds that may do honor to their native place, making its wealth a blessing through means of the intelligence and liberality that shall control its ap- 11 plication in the construction of works of utility and taste. Wealth, wiiliout such culture, is like the un- hewn marble, — although an accidental cleavage may exhibit a clean and smooth surface, yet its misshapen and rude form excites no admiration in the soul, nor does it elevate the mind to a contemplation of the beau- tiful. It is valuable only as material^ which must, however, receive the inijDress of mind before it can effectively attract the attention of man and develop aesthetic feeling. But wealth witli culture is like the marble, after the sculptor has endued it with the glowing form that his artistic soul has created. It excites the admiration of man, produces a refining effect upon his feelings, proves to be the means of an union between the useful and the beautiful, and thus brings into harmonious relation that which will pro- mote the development of the practical as well as the aesthetic portion of man's nature. It is culture, men- tal and moral, that will transform wealth from a curse into one of the greatest temporal blessings which a beneficent Creator could confer upon his creatures. Do not neglect the important object which looks toward you for support, and while your portion of this great State is hailed as its garden sjDot, whose riches delight the traveller's eye, and whose fertile fields and busy manufactories are the envy of less favored counties, only apply the mme vigor that has made you so pre-eminent in business successes to the support of your institutions of learn- ing, and your reputation for mental advancement will soon be equal to that of any portion of our coun- try. On all sides I perceive the indications of what you have already done for this special object, and while the student's thanks are yours for the Past, 12 let him feel that he will be supported, in the Future, by an appreciating community. But the responsibilities incurred by the Society, on account of this enterprize, are far greater than those which devolve either upon the Trustees or the Patrons of the College. It has shown abilities that are capable of producing important effects in the cause of Letters, and the world has a right to expect that the fruits of its future labors will be neither small nor unimportant. Having grown to man's estate, it must no longer consider its duties as cir- cumscribed as these were during its infancy. The tasks assigned to the child are proportionate to his physical and mental vigor ; but the full-grown man is expected to undertake tasks of far greater magnitude, which shall afford full room for the ex- ercise of all his faculties. The importance of the Society must increase from year to year, and among the chief inducements that shall attract ambitious students to the walls of the College will be the ad- vantages so freely offered by the Societies that have grown up under its fostering care. These will at- tract generation after generation of students, and the benefits that will thus result to the youth of our land will form a chaplet, to grace the interior of these Halls, more beautiful than those artistic decorations, which, pleasing the eye and gratifying the taste, show the wondrous skill of both architect and pain- ter. My brethren ! a great and important trust has been confided to you, — show yourselves worthy of it. Much has been given and much will be required. If you grow weary and neglect those labors that will henceforth constitute your mission as members of a Society, which this day publicly gives a pledge that 13 it will labor in the cause of letters, — if you neglect your duties, the Ycrclict of public opinion will declare you guilty of doing detriment to Literature and Science, and instead of being honored as true men, you will receive the traitor's brand from your brethren. Be strong and show yourselves worthy of your vocation. Be true and the rewards of truth will be yours. Be faithful, and the present prosper- ity of your society will be small as compared with the abundant harvests that the autumn of its exis- tence shall furnish for its garners, and in green old age it will be honored for its past good deeds and its promise of ever-increasing usefulness. Let this Hall be dedicated, with all due solemnity and reverence, to the cause of Beligion and Christiani- ty/, Whatever is great and good and true must ne- cessarily have its origin in these ideas. Without some religion, some acknowledgment of a supreme Law which imposes certain duties on man with pen- alties for their neglect, — some acknowledgment of a ground or basis of authority, vaster than any which finite beings could possibly form, upon which the superstructure of moral accountability shall rest, — without this, all the brilliant accomplishments of man are as mere whited sepulchres, covering naught but the efPete and putrescent remains of a Grod-given soul. Without the recoo-nition of somethino' more binding and authoritative than the will of man, — all his acts become those of mere animal instinct or, what is still worse, of fiendish instigation. To the father of our country is attributed the sentiment that we must " indulge with, caution the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion ;" but we need not hesitate to declare that it cannot exist with- 14 out sucli a basis. Grreece and Rome, in all their glory, felt that " the father of gods and men " had to be respected and adored by all their citizens, and that all good works and noble deeds were only exe- cuted by those who feared his just vengeance. An English writer,* with much truth, says it would be against '' evidence to say that there ever was a time, when a divine fatherhood did not make itself mani- fest to the Romans as tlie object of their confidence and their devotion through the different objects which were reverenced at the private and public altar." So long as this idea existed supreme and absolute, free from all attempts to exhibit it under the form of a thousand different abstractions— each supposed to act as a sub-divinity over a separate de- partment of the universe and to control distinct por- tions without necessary association with the others, — so long as they remained true to this parental idea, did Roman greatness last. The attributes of the su- preme Father were supposed, in some degree, to be conferred upon the Roman lawgivers, by virtue of their position, and the reverential title of Patres Con- scrijoti was applied to them ; and the idea descended still further to the family circle, where the wishes of the father were considered as all-powerful commands to his own children. Fius ^neas was pious because he was aifectionate and dutiful to his aged father An- chises, and he was aflPectionate because he recognized the authority which one, in such a position, had the right to exercise over a son. Home, government, religion, — all were connected together as possessing laws based upon something outside of the individual, and yet which had implanted in his breast an image • Maurice's Learning and Working, 230. 15 of itself too necessary for his existence to be torn from that resting-phtce without doing injury to his whole being. Here was a Religion, whose followers were honest and faithful, — guiding their steps by the dim light with which they were visited. So long as this was preserved, the glory of Rome was great and overwhelming, — the honor of being a Roman citi- zen was more impressive and protective than any mere gaudy insignia of power. But when all this lost its earnestness and, in consequence, its reality, — when Jove was looked upon as one of an immense number of gods who were actuated with passions like men, then all became hollow show, and a merry Ovid could hold his nation's gods up to derision. Then began the downfall of Roman greatness. Its citizens had lost all love of truth, had ceased to be honest, and their strenoih was turned into weakness. The pages of History devoted to other nations ex- hibit, on careful inspection, the same results. 'No nation has ever been great which has not had a deep reverence for the Supreme Being. It is true that this, with pagan nations w^as a hlind reverence ; it was not, however, the fear of slaves but the worship which a great mind is always ready to offer up at the shrine of God. When the light of Christianity was poured upon the world in all its glory, and the veil, which had obscured the vision of paganism was removed, then the religion of fear was supplanted by that of Love. But this did not remove the necessity of reverence; nay ! it rather increased it, since we learn to rever- ence those whom we love in proportion as the feeling of love grows stronger within our breasts. It was calculated to infuse its principles into the whole be- 16 ing of man, — to cause a subordination of all tlie sen- sual imj^ulses of his nature to the dictates of the highest of all laws, and to make him more anaxious to obey those which human authority — permitted by the divine to exercise command over him — had im- posed as necessary for the governance of himself and brethren when bound together by social or business ties. His moral nature was constrained, if it would be true, to cultivate the duties, that this truest form of religion taught him, he owed to his God, his fel- low-man and himself. If he proved recreant to these instructions, his course through life was bound up in lies and hypocrisies, and his own obedience, even to human laws, degenerated into that which was con- trolled by fear of punishment for their infraction. Where the whole tenor of life is controlled by the rules of Christianity, or rather where the spirit of the latter enters into and influences all the actions of man, there will the best citizen ever be found. This cannot clog or hinder his freedom of thought as a man of letters or science. The latter are but differ- ent forms of Truth. They cannot contradict the Su- preme Truth, of which they are but manifestations in various forms. Their greatest merit lies in their subordination to religion's laws. He that would cultivate them with the greatest benefit, must never bring them into collision with its commands. Let the buddings of Philosophy, Literature and Science, which may be developed within this Hall, be enticed from their resting place under the favor- ing auspices of the rich nurture of the Gospel, the dews of Heaven, and the glorious warmth of that Sun, whose rising and setting are not comprehended within the limits of time. Let no infidel doubts, with 17 regard to the reality of tlie most precious treasures with which man has been blessed, ever be uttered here ; ever frown down all attempts to treat holy and sacred things in a light and careless manner, as the first fiaiits of a spirit that is antichristian and irreli- gious in its character. The basis of all education is morality — Christian morality — and in all your plans for the education of the powers God has given you, be not unmindful of this great fact. In the words which were uttered by my respected friend (Dr. J. W. Xevin) at the dedication of your first Hall, per- mit me to express the hope that " your motto, Feveoda) 0co^, be made to encircle the cross, that holy symbol of the Christian faith, and so let it be inscribed as a wreath of celestial light" around every gothic win- dow of this temple of letters ; " and so let it float perpetually as a sacred laharum^ in every literary enterprise, above your heads, the clear index at once of the course you are called to pursue, and the divine pledge of your success in the end." ]S"ext let this Hall, which the sons of a mighty Republic have erected for the use of themselves and their successors, be dedicated to tlie spirit of -irue Patriotism, Our duties towards our fellow-men de- mand our attention next after those we owe to God. The two can never conflict. The Christian religion was not introduced with the design of establishing difibrent outward relations among men as such. The Master himself conformed to existing laws, and bade the hypocritical Pharisees and Herodians, who en- deavored to obtain an opinion on the question of tribute, to render to Ccesar the things that are Ccesar'^s, and to God the things that are God^s. The Apostle Paul found that his Christianity did not prohibit 2 18 him from claiming tlie great rights which were in- herent with him as a Roman citizen. The establish- ment of Christianity involved not the overtmming of existing laws, but rather the inculcation of obedience to these, and, through the christianization of the ru- lers themselves, the after production of such altera- tions as would make them more endurable. The true Christian is never found violating Law. If then the duties of the Patriot and the Christian do not conflict with each other, it must be necessary to cultivate the true spirit of the former while we cherish that of the latter. And, now, probably more than at any previous period of our existence, the ne- cessity is urgent that the rising generation shall be endued with the spirit of true Patriotism. We have a noble and goodly land left us, as a her- itage, by our forefathers. At the time of its settle- ment, there were collected on its shores, men who were mostly actuated by a desire to find a home where God could be served in accordance with the promptings of their own religious belief. They left homes that had been endeared to them by the recol- lections of centuries, — ^the graves of their sires, and all the associations that can make a country precious to the heart of its sons, — ^with trust in the superin- tending care of the Almighty, they sought these shores to form a government, on the sound basis of mutual concessions and freedom of action to all who were recognized as contracting parties in its forma- tion, and also to all such as might place themselves, in good faith, under the protection of its laws. It was no mere love of conquest, — no low desire of earth- ly possessions that prompted these noble spirits. Their love of enterprize was controlled and modified 19 by a firm faith and a noble Christian spirit. But as their nationalities differed, so did the various forms of the Christian faith they professed, differ. It was a question pregnant with importance — " How shall the varying views and beliefs of the people be recon- ciled, — how can all be made to harmonize, and one great nation be formed of so many discordant ele- ments ?" The key to this was obtained in the idea of an Union, based upon a just and sound Constitu- tion, guaranteeing to each the preservation of those rights, throughout the ivhole confederacy, which his own particular State recognized as rights. Our fore- fathers pledged to the preservation of this ''their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honors," and did not hesitate to sacrifice the first two by way of showing the truth of the pledge as involved in the last. Wliat has resulted from all this ? We have grown up to be a mighty nation — known and respected for our worth and Avorks over the entire earth. Our commerce visits all nations, and our discoveries in the Arts and Sciences are adopted by those, whose age makes them veterans in the history of the w^orld, in comparison with our few years. United we have thus far stood together, — the convincing illustration of the truth of the old maxim, that " in union there is strength." Our beautiful flag extends its protection to our citizens, wherever they may go, and to be an American citizen, in this age, is as strong a protec- tion against imposition and tyranny as ever citizen- ship of Rome was in its palmiest days. To preserve all these benefits and advantages, we must preserve the Union intact and inviohite. Sick- ly sentimentalism has loudly proclaimed, that if its 20 own peculiar views do not prevail among our law- givers, — if all the patriotic spirits in our land do not agree to look at facts through the miserably refract- ing media which it presents for the purpose,— then it were better that this Union should be dissevered. Fanatics have also joined in this declaration, and be- cause the Church itself has determined to keep clear of all taint produced by interference with that which is outside of its province,— it has been branded as a den of hypocrites, and a meagre, vapid religionism, breathing destruction and death to its opponents, is now brought forth in place of that pure spirit of Christianity which teaches that the greatest of all the graces is charity. When attacks of this kind are made against our glorious Union and our religious belief, it behooves every true citizen to arm himself for the fray, and, by a bold and determined manifes- tation of resistance, to show that his highest ambition, as a patriot, is to contend for the principles laid down by the father of our country, and that he will not permit them to be wrested from that country through the machinations of silly, deluded visionaries or de- signing traitors. My brethren ! let the spirit of true patriotism pre- side over every act of your Society in this Hall ! Let an Union -loving disposition be cultivated in the early years of your life! Under no circumstances even permit yourselves to discuss the probable future of our Country, in case the Union should be dissolved. Recognize the right of decision, that the Constitution gives to the Supreme Judicature of your Country, as necessarily supreme and final, — in this, imitating the example of the distinguished person who has been honored with the chief office in the nation's gift, and 21 who presides over the destinies of your College. You have been taught that, where self-will establishes itself in opposition to the commands of Law, there is not, and cannot be Freedom. JN'o man can assume to himself the glorious title of Free, unless he lives in the element of Law, obeys its commands, respects its prohibitions, and honors it for the protection it affords. He who condemns every thing, that does not please his pampered fancy, or conform with his warped judgment, or satisfy his vitiated senses, is not Free. His slavery is more complete, — more op- pressive and soul- degrading than any man could im- pose. It is a slavery that implies the resignation of the whole man to the dominion of self-wdll, and from that time, Law loses its force over him unless it hap- pens to chime in with the dictates of this will. Banish from your company the traitor who talks of his country and its blessings as of small impor- tance in comparison with the establishment of cer- tain abstract principles which he views as right. Foenum licibet in cornii, — avoid him — a lad citizen is at heart a had man, — and he that touches pitch is defiled. Let your ranks ever be filled with those who shall rejoice in the success of our whole land, bound down to no petty local prejudices ; and who, wdiile respecting the spirit that animated our ances- tors in the establishment of the Union, are deter- mined that it shall, in good faith, be preserved through future time. Then will the graduate mem- bers sen£ forth from your Society be an honor to your history, shining as bright stars that can be proudly emblazoned on the shield of the Society's glory, and their names will be inscribed high up in that niche which contains the names of those whose 2f patriotism has been pure and undefiled. The love of his Fatherland nerves the German student's arm with super-human energy, when the time for action arrives, and finds appropriate expression in the glow- ing words of Arndt's poetry :* Das ist der Deutschen Vaterland, Wo Eide schwort der Druck der Hand, Wo Treue hell vom Auge blitet Und Lielbe warm im Herzen sitzt, ■x- « -x- * * Wo jeder Frevel heiszet Feind, Wo jeder Edie heiszet Freund. Das ganze Deutschland soil es seyn, Gott vom Himmel, sieh darein, Und gieb uns achten, deutschen Muth, Dasz "wir es lieben treu und gut. Is it not the privilege of the American student to rival his brethren of the German Universities in the cultivation of patriotic sentiments, and will he not join with one of our own Poets in cheering on the Ship of State, shouting in loud acclaim with his brethren — " In spite of rock and tempest roar In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee, — are allvdth thee." ^ "That is the German's Fatherland, Where oaths are sworn by grasp of hand ; Where in all eyes clear truth doth shine ; Where in warm hearts sits love benign. •X- * -H- 3fr * * Where all that's base 'neath hate must bend ; ' Where all that's noble name Ave Friend. That whole, the German land shall be God of Heaven ! hither see ! And give us genuine German soul. That we may love it high and whole." lllou-itfs Translation, 23 Lastly, let this Hall be dedicated to the purposes of Literature and Science. The Society has, for twenty-two years, been known by the name of one of Germany's greatest sons, — one, whose vast ac- quirements have excited the astonishment and ad- miration of the world, and whose strength of mind and true genius furnished many contributions to the highest departments of Science and Letters. It was a happy thought — ^to give Goethe's name to an Asso- ciation, which looked forward to the improvement of its youthful members in mental culture. The name was synonymous with labor, high resolves and great success. It implied that those who bore it should be no idlers in the world, but be ever diligent in ac- quiring the ability to employ knowledge of all kinds, — that the true motto for each one should be, Wie das Gestim, Ohne Hast Aber ohne Rast, Drehe sich jeder Urn die eigne Last.* Your duties as Christians and Patriots will be all the better performed, as your knowledge of the pleas- ant paths of letters is increased ; and each day will make you a stronger defender of your Religion and your Country, if it notes some progress in the study of the writings of the great and the good. Your reading, however, must not be one sided. While Philosophy, in its various departments, is needed that the superstructure of mental acquirement may have a firm basis, and History, Biography and Trav- els must be perused that a familiar acquaintance may be had of other ages and other lands, despise not * Like a star, -unLasting, unresting, be eacli one fulfilling his God-given hQst— Lewes' Life of Goethe, II., 44G. 24 the more graceful paths of Polite Literature, where Poetry and artistic Romance shall contribute the grace of ornament, the polish of style and every thing that will tend to refine and adorn the mind — ^thus forming the aesthetic portion of culture. Here, in those literary exercises, which the rules of your So- ciety may require of its members, all that you can read and digest may be directly employed, and the mind will thus be trained to rely on itself. Strength of thought, ease of expression and readiness are the results, in a greater or less degree, of such training. It is an important point in your College life that these Society literary exercises should be performed with great care and assiduity. They embody the practical employment of what is otherwise mere learning, but which, in this way, may in fact become wisdom. Consecrate then this Hall to the faithful cultivation of knowledge as embodied in the wide idea of Literature, and let nothing unworthy of an association with this idea ever be permitted to enter its walls. But we have said that the Hall is dedicated to Literature and Science^ and this age will not permit the two to be divorced without detriment. The time was when the former could exist without the latter, but now the immense applications of modern discove- ries — all force the study of science itself upon the educated mind. May its claims here receive the respect which Gcethe loved to give it, and which re- sulted in such profound contributions to the science of Optics and JM'atural History. Let not the idle twaddle of those ignorant of Science induce you to believe, for a moment, that it is hostile to Religion. Acquire a love for it here, — study its teachings with 25 diligence and care, and then you will recognize how grand are the claims of Science upon man's time and attention, — how great the necessity even now to avoid that which the Apostle bid Timothy to avoid — " the oppositions of Science falsely so calledJ^ On an occasion like this, I trust the discussion of a subject connected with the purposes for wdiich this building has thus publicly been dedicated, will not be considered as out of place ; and in the selection of one, I have avoided any thing connected with Liter- ature proper, as this whole field will be brought be- fore you in the regular exercises of the Society, and have chosen one which, while it accords with the character of my special studies, is not often brought before the public in its entirety and truth. Permit me to present a few reilections connected with " the Mission of Science," truly so called, wherein we may find that the subject is quite as charming as Milton considered " divine philosophy," " Not harsli and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets Where no crude surfeit reigns." \_CoTnus. The student of Science takes truth herself as his guide towards her home in the hidden mysteries of nature, and finds that nature's works " are travelling on the same road with him," — that the mountains and the valleys will open their hidden mysteries unto him, that the clouds will teach him the origin and cause of their glorious colorings, while the stars in the broad expanse of heaven will hail with joy the laborer on his way. We are told that the diamond, after having been exposed to the sun's light, may be 26 invested with a thick covering of vfax and carried into a dungeon of deepest darkness, and yet when the covering is removed, the rays of light which it had lovingly embraced, surround it with a lustre that makes it conspicuous even in obscurity. And in the same way, the coruscations of truth, which are caught up by the student of Science, in his on- ward progress, — which are lovingly absorbed into his soul, become brilliant starlights to mark his path through the world. The term Science has been sadly misapplied in our days. It has been made not only as broad as its etymology would justify, — not only to include what is known in the material or immaterial world, but whatever is pretended to be known, and thus by a singular misuse of a term, which is possessed of definite meaning, learning and ignorance, modest genius and impudent arrogance have in fact all been thrown together. The pugilist boasts of his Science, and demands as much respect from the world for it, as the latter is prepared to give to the attainments of a Himibolt or a JSTewton. The term is employed to dignify almost every art, from those of as little utility or respectability as boot-blacking and pugil- ism, upv\^ards through various grades of such useful or ornamental arts as the present state of civilization is constantly employing. JN'ow, the useful arts are based on principles which have been derived from Science, but it is, in the highest degree, derogatory to the latter, that the former should be designated as Sciences ; — their highest aim is merely to j^racti- calize the truths which are furnished them, — ^to act as machines, through which great principles, — the truths of nature may be externalized and made useful 27 to man. Science acts in the case of such arts as the mind, — the vitalizing agent, — the idea which, al- though mechanical appliances may be required for its adaptation to utilitarian wants, still though those should be absent for centuries, is not one particle the less attractive or beautiful, even in its existence as a mere abstraction devoid of sensual externalization, — remaining then proudly real though ideal, — grandly beautiful because an emanation from Truth itself. When the idea becomes, through means of Talent, the basis of an useful process or art, then the Avorld, which judges alone by results, welcomes it as an use- ful adjunct to man. Science is the mother of the useful arts, and not the older sister, as some would have us believe. Her children, under the nursing care of the man of talent, become ministers to the wants of man, aid him in controlling the mighty for- ces of nature, and even in making these willing and submissive slaves to man's behests. But if, in every instance, wdiere Science had announced the discovery of a new principle, the value of the latter were con- sidered as dependent on our ability to apply it to practical use, history would show us many most im- portant truths rejected because of the ignorance of man. Fortunately the value of a principle is deter- mined by its truth, and not by its immediate ap- plicability, — just as the axioms of Geometry, and all its propositions, are valuable, because they are abstractly true, even though it is found impossible to demonstrate their absolute truth in a material way. It may be stated as an axiom, that " the discovery of no scientific j^rinciple is to be considered of minor import, although ages may intervene before its utili- 28 ty can be demonstrated to the world." What then is Science, if it is not necessarily connected with the useful arts, although they are dependent on it for their very existence ? What position does it occu.py in the range of studies, that the Creator has proposed for the attention, the respect and the ardent admira- tion of man ? Is there any connection between the beautiful ideals of the im-agination, — those aesthetic realities of the poet's mind, though unknown to the rest of the world — and Science ? Are we to look for Science as some Goddess, who veils her fair face from the rude gaze of man ? Does she dwell in the em- pyrean regions above, only deigning to visit her vo- taries, at periods like those which fable ascribes to angels' visits ? Is her home in the deep blue vault of heaven, where the starry host light U23, with their mild rays, the hidden recesses of her palace ? Or must we dive to the depths of old JN'eptune's domains, to find her there, amid the uncouth monsters of the deep, the Amphitrite of those vast domains ? Let us know what she is, where is her abode — ^Avhat her mission, and how we can best honor her for the latter. Science is that form of knowledge which seeks out the fundamental principles of things, collects the leading truths that underlie all other knowledge, and thus constitutes the basis or substratum on which all the useful arts are permitted to rear their graceful forms. Her home is — everywhere. '' The whole boundless continent is hers." She is, to a certain extent, identical with Truth herself, or, as Ave should rather say, she is one of the forms with which truth invests herself when she partly unveils her face to man. Philosophy — which applies the principles an- 29 nounced by Science to the strict regimen and discip- line of abstract reasoning — is another form of Truth, in which her unveiled face shines with ever increas- ing lustre on the disciple. Poetry — the third form in which Truth presents herself, is removed from the sphere of abstract reasoning and has to do alone with the feelings, the imagination and the inmost soul of man. These three forms of Truth are, strictly speak- ing, not practical fer se, but are peculiarly adapted for producing immensely important practical results : Poetr}" — acting on the feelings, has a tendency to re- fine what is gross and sensual into something more beautiful, chaste and etherial, to incite to deeds of courage by inflaming the sluggish blood of the indo- lent and fanning the flames of valor in the bosoms of the brave, to bring sweet contentment to the rest- less soul, and to sing the deeds of those who have been great in conquering nations, mighty warriors, or, what is indicative of still greater heroism, their own evil passions : Philosophy — acting on the in- tellect, dealing with man's reasoning faculties, has the sterner duty of proving the existence of abstract truths and of demonstrating what is the value of that image of Himself, which the Creator has implanted in man. Science, however, being the most practical of the three, wdiile she avails herself of philosophy to support her reasoning, and poetry to surround her revelation with all the varied tropes and figures that can be draw^n so plenteously from her own store- house, does not hesitate to extend, as from a supera- bundant cornucopia, to her votaries, those rich and useful principles, whereon the useful arts can build themselves up, so as to become the monuments that man erects as indications of his advancement in the scale of civilization. m The three are different forms of truth, and, like that singular pantheistic idea of Brahma, which runs through the Hindoo Mythology, they are different manifestations of the same grand unity. We find in the Yedas,* that " Brahma is said to be the light of the sun, of the moon and of the fire, the Vedas are the breath of his nostrils ; the primitive elements are his eyes. In various forms he enlivens his creatures : in the form of fire he digests their nourishment ; in the form of air he preserves their lives ; as water he quenches their thirst ; as the sun, he ripens the fruits ; as the moon he gives refreshing sleep." In the course of his different incarnations the hosts of ani- mated beings, which people the earth, were created. Such is the relation which Truth bears to Philosophy, Poetry and Science,— these are actualizations of her existence through different agencies ; they are her incarnations (if I may be allowed to employ the word in the absence of a better to convey the idea) , and though each is subordinate to Religion — ^the purest form of truth, yet each has a specific mission to accomplish on earth. Of these three. Science is the most practical. She is most attractive on account of this practical ten- dency, and in consequence of her fitness for satifying the inquisitive longings of the human mind, and be- cause she often opens the way for the diligent culti- vation of the other members of this glorious triad. The human mind is ever desirous of prosecuting those studies that will enable it to accomplish some result, — that can be at once applied to the demands of the arts or the wants of life, — ^that will aid in the * Wright's India, 242. 31 subjection of the forces of nature and in making them the obedient servants to man's wishes. The gener- ality of mankind at the present time are averse to investigations which will not result in practical ben- efit. The age is decidedly utilitarian and hence most anxious to favor every thing that bears directly on the increase of wealth among its children. This utilitarian longing is perfectly satisfied by Science. Every trade and every profession exhibits, in every step forward that it takes, cogent illustrations of the practical benefits Avhich spring from the matronly kindness of Science. They are all dependent on the very abstract principles, which, at first, present no other claim to respect than that which arises from their being, subjectively and j^er se, true. The attractions, which arise, when we contemplate the beautiful operations of the laws of Science, are of no ordinary kind, — they claim no ordinary amount of admiration when once fully understood. Aye ! when we find that the laws which regulate the movements of countless worlds through space, so that astron- omers can calculate their paths for thousands of years to come, and define their position at any re- quired period of time with unerring accuracy, — when we find that these are so universal in their application that even the fall of the acorn from its parent oak is regulated by them, — is not such a discovery calcu- lated to excite our wonder and prove peculiarly at- tractive to an investigating mind ? But the attrac- tion grows more delightful when we look upon those treasures which Science presents in every quarter to which our observation may be directed ; when we learn how the seemingly lawless and irregular blasts of the winds, as they play over old JS'eptune's waves, are brougiit under something like system by Science and our vessels are even directed how to avail them- selves of the contradictions of the winds with the re- sult of shortening, by weeks, their tedious voyages ; - — how the electricity of the heavens — the symbol of Jove's own mighty power to the ancients — is made to move lambently and innocentlv along the magic rod of the Philosopher and thus deprived of near- ly all its power, is not only restrained from doing injury, but is actually forced to be the servant of man's commands^ — and made to carry his messages of grief or joy from land to land ; — how the grateful changes of the seasons are but illustrations of laws now well understood ;■ — how the clouds of heaven adorn themselves with sombre drapery of woe, or put on that gaudy attire of gold and purple, com- mingled with violet and hyacinth, which makes the setting of the orb of day " a thing of beauty, a joy forever " to the soul of man, and which invests the sky of Italy with a grandeur that painter and poet alike lament the inefficacy of material colors or words to portray, though they feel its wondrous effects in their inmost soul ; — how the bright bow of promise in the clouds resolves the light of the sun into its sevenfold component parts, and, while existing as a sacrament that Grod will never again cause the waters to cover the face of the earth, is also a brilliant exhi- bition of the primal constitution of light itself ; — how the remains of animals, that have passed through their fitful careers thousands of years since, may be adroitly fitted together, their forms depicted and their habits announced by an Owen or an Agassiz with a certainty that could not be surpassed, were they, living at the present time ; — how the changes, 33 which ruQ;i!red and adamantine rocks undergo, owing,- to tlie wasting influences of time and climate, are shown to be the necessary preparation for the forma- tion of soil, whereon afterwards " the grass, the herb yielding seed and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth," may grow in rich luxuriance ; — how the life of the plant may be followed from its first appropriation of the necessary chemical principles, from the atmos- phere and the soil, on to the development of the fi'uit, and then how the latter is converted into flesh and blood and bone in the living animal which consumes it for sustenance, while its own being, notwithstand- ing its freedom to accomplish certain tasks circum- scribed by its own strength and powers, is also sub- ject to such physical laws as are indispensable ac- companiments of vitality ; — how man himself — the master-piece of creation — exhibits in his mortal fi-ame a series of actions and powers which are subject to laws similar to those that are the moving causes of all inanimate nature, though they are restrained by the conditions of vitality and ennobled and refined by the indwelling of an immortal soul ; and lastly, how^ Science'*' teaches us, that " the heart is the one true con- jurer's bottle, pouring forth, aye, and at the same time, liquids the most unlike to satisfy thirsts as strange ; saliva to wet the lips, tears to relieve the eye, milk to swell the mother's breast, and oil to make supple the wrestler's limbs, and the whole organism is, as the older writers loved to call it, a Microcosm^ or world in little, where in one land they are rejoicing and in another weeping ; where on this shore they are * Edinburg Essays for 1856, 316. 3 34 singing Te Deum, and on that shore Miserere ; where at the same moment it is a time to love, and a time to hate, a time of war and a time of peace." These, I say, are the attractions offered by Science, not only to the few who cultivate truth for its own sake, but also to those who will not acknowledge truth as val- uable, unless its practical value at once be made ap- parent to their eyes, — and who judge of her mani- festations by the amount of wealth these would bring into their coffers. But Science is also attractive on account of her being specially fitted for satisfying the inquisitive longings of the human mind after the solution of such mysteries as surround man in nature. He is living now under the countless disadvantages which appertain to a fallen condition. A restless spirit in- duced him to break the divine injunction that he should avoid "the tree of knowledge of good and evil," and he is suffering under the heavy penalty of death in consequence of this act of disobedience. Along with the penalty there was imposed the com- mand " to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow," which proves, however, to be a divine blessing, since if he were on earth surrounded by all the agonizing consequences of his fatal act, without the necessity of work to employ either body or mind, his punish- ment would be greater than his feeble nature could endure, and instead of heaven -directed countenance and heaven-directed aspirations, his body, soul and mind would rapidly sink below their present condi- tion, down even to the low and gTovelling nature of the brute. But the urgent command to work, taken in connection with the effects of that fruit which he ate, at the instigation of the Evil one, under the im- 35 pression that he should thenceforth be as one of the Gods, — these conjointly have made man's disposition a restless one, his mind ever eager for inquiry into the hidden nature of things, and his very existence dull and uninteresting unless it is continually occu- pied with novelty. And this necessity of work, I repeat, is a divine blessing. Labor is the highest blessing to fallen man ; indolence is his greatest curse. This labor is of a threefold character. In one as- pect it relates to his soul ; he has to study the varied and wonderful character of the sins that have accu- mulated on his moral nature like so many volcanoes throwdno- forth on the world around devastatino- tor- rents of wickedness and crime ; he has to work out, through the aid of infinite power, the solemn and mystic problem w^hich involves the removal of this weight of evil and his final attainment of eternal bliss. In another aspect it relates to the wants of his body ; he must continually supply it with proper food so that it shall have sufficient strength to en- dure the labors of his lot and to eke out his existence through the few years granted on earth. The body which encloses the wonderful mysteries of the human mind and the immortal soul must be kept in repair so that the latter can perform their proper functions. But in a third aspect, this labor relates to the mind. " It is tasked," to use the words of another, "with the physical earth as a problem, which, within the limits of a life, it must struggle to solve." The grasp of each human mind is wonder- fully comprehensive, but not sufficiently so to under- take the solution of this problem in its many forms. To effect this, the ^Derfection of mind would be re- quired ; the Deity Himself is alone able to appre- 36 hend tlie full extent of this problem, because it lias all proceeded from Himself, with whom to will and to execute are one and the same. Each human mind, however, can perform a portion of the task which has been assigned to humanity, and yet the sum total of the work of successive generations,— though a beau- tiful exhibit of the victories which can be gained by indefatigable labor, — will present many glaring in- accuracies and gross defects that shall mar the sym- metry of the temple of scientific knowledge ;■ — here there will be a column standing obliquely instead of vertical, — a capital in unharmonious proportions, — and there a portico too small to be architecturally adapted for such a superstructure, — here a moulding or a carving executed in too much haste to bring out clearly the idea of the designer, and there a spire or turret misplaced ; — and yet, with all its faults when examined by the Omniscient eye of the Architect of the universe, presenting itself to our eyes like some old Gothic cathedral, where pointed window and tower and turret and spire directed heavenwards seem to lead one's thoughts in the same direction, when standing in dreamy admiration at the base of the sacred structure. To assist in the accumulation of the material, wherewith this building is being erected, is one of the longings of the mind ; — in the works of the visible creation it finds attractions in proportion as the scientific principles which pervade the whole become clear. It can here use its command over the knowl- edge of that which is good^ so as to counteract the physical penalties appertaining to that which is evil. Inquiry can be indulged and nature interrogated from the first blush which tinges the cheek of Aurora 37 as the god of clay peers over the eastern horizon, until when with floods of light and gorgeous drapery he encouches himself behind the AM^stern hills. JN'or need man stojD there. The sable mantle of night does not check the x^rogress of inquiry and investigation. The student may strive faithfully and lovingly to en- gratiate himself into the favor of science, knowing that his reward is sure, although many days or even months of toil shall pass away before the victory shall be won. ]N"o season is unfitted for his pursuits. Even the chilling snows qf winter, its ice-bound riv- ers, wild stormy blasts of wind, and lifeless vegeta- tion, are all attractive, because they are the results of unerring laws, the enunciation of which is the pe- culiar province of science. When the genial rays of the sun bring on bright, smiling Spring, warm-heart- ed, affectionate womanly Summer, or matronly Au- tumn, man's powers are still more taxed to admire these three daugnters of the year with their manifold combinations of the beautiful. Whatever complaint can be brought, against oth- er branches of study, on the score of variety for in- teresting minds fond of novelty, it is evident that nothino; of the kind can be brouo-ht a^'ainst science. Every day its students are allowed to raise the veil somewhat higher than their predecessors, and to see a little more of the charming and attractive m^^ste- ries which are enshrouded by it. Although the por- tion revealed is small, still we dare not complain; for what is seen and understood is so much brighter than the cheerless view without, that we shudder to think of the veil of ignorance being again dropped, and each one, active in his sphere, labors to raise it higher and higher, nay ! — if the thing were possible 38 — to tear it down, so tliat there might be no means of concealing what is so lovely and attractive. Like the fair maiden, in whom her lover, each day, finds some new object for his admiration ; at first, the rosy cheek, the dark lustrous eye, the symmet- rical form, the graceful walk, — then, the bewitching sweetness of her womanly eloquence, and the joy- ous warblings of her voice in merry song, — then, the modesty of manner, the gentleness of disposition, the chasteness of thought and feeling, the enraptur- ing loveliness of soul, — he knows not which to ad- mire most, but submissively throws himself at her feet and owns his most ardent and devoted love : so Science becomes each day more charming to her de- votee, — each 23oint of view presents the beauteous charms with which her fair form is invested more impressively to his mind, and her lover finds him- self a ready, willing and submissive follower. Science also opens the way for the cultivation of Philosophy and Poetry. It furnishes the former those facts, from which Induction selects the prevail- ing spirit, — the generality that pervades them — and shaping it into a finished and perfected form, thus rounds oif our knowledge with the symmetry of truth. Indeed the two are as handmaidens in the train of Truth ; tAvin stars with such combined brilliancy that it is impossible accurately to tell where the light of the one begins or that of the other ends, but each, gradually and imperceptibly blending with the other, contributes to the formation of a pure dazzling light, which shall increase in brilliancy until the end of time. When Polytheism had begun to run riot with the religious feelings of Greece and Rome, we find that 39 their meagre glimpses at science induced the philos- ophers to investigate the nature of its principles, and from these slight buddings of kno^vledge they form- ed a number of deities, each one of whom was sup- posed to be the impersonation of a power of nature. The modern philosopher needs no such refuge. The nature of these j^owers is becoming better known and their laws more thoroughly understood. He can rise, from their contemplation, to the sublimest heights of reasoning as to *' man's first disobedience and the fruit of that forbidden tree, which brought death in- to the world and all our wo." The mere barren narrative of science, stri]3ped of its tendency to ex- cite philosophical reasoning and continued reflection on the origin of all its laws, can only please those whose blind adherence to pure materialism makes them fit every thing to their procrustean bed, but wdth the true thinker a vitality of thought will be excited that shall urge him onwards to the deepest and most satisfactory solutions of the physical prob- lem w^hich has been mysteriously conjoined wdth his spiritual existence. But what influence has Science on Poetry ? Have they not been also intertwined as far back as man's earliest knowledge of the former? Have not, in many instances, the very impersonations, which Poetry has adopted to rej^resent the forces of nature, been shown by Science afterwards to dimly adum- brate the true laws which govern them ? When the advance of knowledge has placed us in a position to examine these laws, and to understand the phe- nomena produced by them, has not Poetry seized the later reading of nature's book, given her by Science, and, clad with a more glorious and bedazzling garb 40 of trope and figure, has slie not become all the more attractive to the world? When in ignorance, all forces were deified, how could the idea of many gods, each ruling over his own speciality and fighting with deadliest hate against his peers, compare in sublimi- ty with that which arises from a consideration of Science, under the reverential influence of true reli- gion. Do not Eeligion and Science necessarily in- vest each other with a peculiar sublimity, when each shows, independent of the other, that there exists but one Grod, consistent and true, — ^the controller of nature and its forces, and that the laws of nature itself are as fixed and unchangeable as the fiat of such an existence could make them ? Were the trivial and even contemptible causes given for continued wars between the fabled deities of the worst days of Pagan- ism, half so incitive to poetic feelings as the contem- plation of a thunder-storm under the guidance of modern Science, — no longer to be viewed as the evi- dence of angry and warring deities, but as the result of laws which may be comprehended by the school boy and yet are prolific in scenes that may make the stoutest tremble, if not assured that he is under the protection of One, who "Plants his footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm." Does not Science even enable us to appreciate the sublimity of the Poetry which breathes in every word of such grand descriptions of a storm, written by the Hebrew poet in his hour of inspiration, as the fol- lowing : " The voice of the Lord is upon the water ; the God of glory thundereth ; the Lord is upon many waters ; the voice of the Lord is powerful ; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. He maketh light- 41 nings with rain. He destroyed their vines with hail. He smote with hail in all the labors of the harvest. The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars, yea, the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon." But waiving additional interrogatories, let us ex- amine for a moment, a few instances of the draughts that Poetry can and does imbibe from the fount of Science, and, as I take it, there will be little difficul- ty in readily perceiving their value ! Hunt has well said, on this subject — " The sylph moistening a lilly is a sweet dream ; but the thoughts which rise when we first learn that its broad and beautiful dark-green leaves, and its pure and delicate flavor, are the re- sults of the alchemy which changes gross particles of matter into symmetric forms, — are, after our incre- dulity has passed away, of an exalting character." And the true poet of the present day rejects the old similes and ]3ersonifications of classic periods and employs those which Science furnishes, since they are more suited to the poetic feeling, being more beautiful and true. He comprehends that, " Theses in flowers and men are more than seeming; Workings are they of the self-same powers, "Which the poet in no idle dreaming, Seeth in himself and in the flowers." As the true relations of the different parts of J^a- ture are being unfolded, the wonderful beauty of the whole is more appreciated by the poet, whose exis- tence seems to depend on the beautiful. Science ex- hibits the harmonious adaptation of the various I)arts, — its beauty affords him a new view of nature which is real and true. It is no idle dream that the beautiful is true. If this were not the case, both morally and physically, we might find truth in the 42 moral and natural world associated with that which is its antipode — glaring falsehood. But see the beauties which nature exhibits when Science is our guide. The little flower-bud gradu- ally unfolds its charms under the enticing influences of the dew and the sun of the spring morning ; its bright corolla greets the orb of day, with an array of beauty that art despairs of imitating, and ex- hales matchless odors, — all this strikes a responsive chord in the sympathetic heart of the poet, which vibrates in unison with the key-note of the grand anthem nature is hymning forth in honor of its Cre- ator. The aged trees join in this song of praise, — and merry birds warble their sweet accompaniment to the mighty melody ; — all material creation, with its Maker's greatness — mysterious yet not all-incom- prehensible — clearly impressed on its surface, swells the chorus, while the cataract, with its thundering roar, produces the full and sonorous bass. What similes, borrowed from mythology with re- gard to the source and nature of Light, can compare in grandeur with the truths, which modern Science has furnished poetry ? The time required for the passage of light from one fixed star to another is so great, that hundreds and thousands of years are ne- cessary, in some cases, for its passage. If it were possible to command instruments of power sufficient to see objects on such stars, the mind may well won- der at the striking efl^ects that could be thus jDrodu- ced. The wonders of _2J(2S^ centuries in such spheres, would be the living deeds of the present time with us ; and could an inhabitant of a distant sphere look through such instruments at the Earth, the incidents of OUT present history would be discerned in the far 43 distant fuiure of his abode. An anonymous writer suggests that Luther at the council of Worms coukl be seen if we were located on one of the fixed stars, where three hundred years is required for the pas- sage of light to the earth ; and " to the view of an observer from another fixed star, our Saviour ap- pears noiv upon earth performing his miracles and ascending into heaven." " The universe incloses the pictures of the past, like an indestructible and incor- ruptible record containing the purest and clearest truth. * ^ '^ The pictures of every occurrence propagate themselves into the distant ether, upon the wings of the ray of light ; and, although they be- come weaker and smaller, yet in immeasurable dis- tance they still have color and form ; and as every thing possessing color and form is visible, so must these ]Dictures also be said to be visible, however im- possible it may be for the human e^^e to perceive it with the hitherto discovered optical apparatus." What a world of wonders in this dream, nay, let us call it, this reality of Science ; and poets must ex- haust language in vain efibrts to portray it for the contemplation of man ! But are there no poetic realities to be found, when we look at the machines art has constructed in ac- cordance with the principles advanced by Science ? Has not even the steam-engine, with its smoke-be- grimmed chimney, its roaring furnace, its regular monotonous puff of steam, and its continued rising and falling of piston rods, — has it not a spirit capable of evoking poetical expressions from the lover of the beautiful ? Does it not speak of might, unequalled b}^ that of any other mechanical agency, conjoined with gentleness ? — and exhibit a fit emblem of an 44 age which is fast hurling superstition back to that oblivion, in whose dark waters it should find its home ? Is it not a better representation of strength and energy than the old conception of the Titans ? If Science be as already described, and these, the attractions with which she surrounds herself, what is the nature of her mission to man ? Has she any spe- cial mission assigned her ? If she has to do with the leading truths that underlie the phenomena of nature, she must certainly be specially interested in, what has been called, " the plastic expression of the divine creation," and her mission must be something greater, more extensive, more comprehensive than that which is ordinarily recognized when she is con- sidered simply as the fosterer of the useful arts. She has a duty to perform, that is not limited to a provision for man's physical wants, but which in- cludes ministrations to his mental and even moral nature. Her laws point out, with exactness, the ne- cessary existence of only One Lawgiver, whose infin- ite knowledge and power enabled him to frame them free from the clashing contradictions, with which human laws ever abound. They show that, since the human mind pants after a full acquaintance with their action, and only attains, at most, to a glimpse of their beauty, there must be a condition hereafter in which it shall embrace a fuller and more satisfac- tory view of the whole. And, indeed, as the blessed Apostle, the philosophic Paul, so beautifully sug- gested in his Epistle to the Corinthians, they adum- brate the resurrection of the body, after this life of toil and sorrow, in that they show the plant repro- duced from the seed in its own specific form, after the original has undergone decay and death, and the 45 seed itself is not quickened to life except it die. A knoAvledge of the greatness of tlie Deity is not only furnislied, but Plis goodness is set forth in the exhi- bition of means contrived for supplying the animal creation with proper sustenance to sustain its mem- bers in their daily duties. A great man once said, " the undevout astronomer is mad." We may go further, and claim madness as the only excuse for want of true devotion in the case of any man of Science. " True natural philosophy conducts to God, and contempt of nature fi'om Him. A spirit striving against new discoveries in n^iture, from its slavish attachment to the letter of the past, '-' * * * such a spirit leads directly, through the darkening of the unintellectual eye, from Grod to the idols of superstition, that is, to hecithenism."* The mission of Science is to act as an aid to man in solving the physical problem, which is connected with his relations to the world, and as an assistant to religion by substantiating and confirming the great truths that are embodied in the revealed word. We have seen how man is allowed by Science to enter, as it were, into the very arcana of IS'ature, She answers as the clue which will guide him through the labyrinthine mazes of superstition and ignorance into the broad light of day. If this clue be held in firm grasp, never relinquished for a mo- ment, his course will be inevitably towards the light ; but, if lost, he wanders through the mazes of base- less speculation and becomes involved in wondrous darkness. The utilitarian value of scientific research is by no * Ennemoser's Hist, of Magic, 11, 16. 46 means the prominent idea in the accomplishment of its mission. The former is an incidental advantage springing up by the way side. The practical results of Science in this way furnish material with which the wants of the animal body can be supplied. If the mind, however, rests content wdth such results, it has failed to comprehend the true end and design of Science. It is true that we have just shown that it is often attractive to man on accoimt of such utili- tarian results, but these are, by no means, the real attractions to which we wish to draw attention. The physical problem includes something infinitely great- er than the mere satisfaction of animal wants, — something more worthy of the student's profound veneration and deepest study. Its investigation must be carried on with a child-like faith in the truths of religion, ^ — with a firm belief in the perfect accordance of the Laws of God, as operating by ma- terial means, and as laid down in the Revealed Word. Such investigation will enable the student to appreciate the mission of Science in its widest and most catholic sense. PMlosoj^Jiia oUter libata ahducit a Deo^ penitus hausta reducit ad eundem. The present period in the history of Science abounds with instances illustra- tive of this idea ; and the history of each particular Science exhibits its truth. Whenever separate truths are caught up by minds not able to discuss them, they are subject to false and illogical combi- nations, which result in the assumption of unsound premises. Should the latter be taken as the basis of syllogistic reasoning, nothing but ridiculous and false conclusions will be the result. Conclusions, obtained by such means, in the beginning of investi- 47 gations, have often attacked the very foundations of our belief in Religion, Revelation and, sometimes, alas ! in the very existence of God himself. Reli- gious men have recoiled with the holiest liorrur from such attacks, — ^liave shuddered to think that the blest foundations, on which they had raised all their hopes for the future, should be thus rudely unsettled, and that the very corner-stone should be removed from the structure of their faith so as to throw it prostrate on the ground. Religious fanaticism then, as ever, blind to the true nature of causes, has branded Science as opposed to Christianity and infidel in its character, — as a something that might do very well for supplying one with the necessities of life, but which must be treated as the malefactor who has been doomed by the Law to work for the benefit of the State, being at the same time enshackled and enfettered by heavy irons so as to prevent him doing- mischief to its citizens . But the prudent and thought- ful have doubted whether, after all this excitement, the conflict between Science and Religion might not be more apparent than real. If investigations, how- ever, are merely made into the legitimacy of conclu- sions as seqidtiirs from such premises, but little pro- gress is effected towards removing the seeming op- position. The premises must be examined and care- fully tested with regard to tlieir claims as stable, well- tried truths. When such labor is undertaken under the stimulus of a genuine thirst for knowledge, error after error will be revealed, and the true relations of the facts, from which the premises have been con- structed, will be understood. Truths shall thus be obtained, which will unfold or develope themselves into systems, that, instead of contradicting Religion, 48 will stand by it on the battle-field of this earth, clad in the panoply of war and eager to do battle in its cause. If the infancy of a Science is apparently hos- tile to Religion, — ^this must be ascribed to our igno- rance of its principles. Further knowledge will show us where the error lies and will demonstrate the perfect accordance of the two, Science and Reli- gion, i. Geology, when first introduced, met with the cool- est reception on the part of the Christian. There was such apparent contradiction between the state- ments of Geology and those of the sacred historian Moses, that the believer, clinging with great affection to the Revealed Word, hurled aside the Science as a delusion, and the geologist stood ready to sacrifice eVen his belief in the truth of the sacred narrative, rather than give up what seemed so clearly demon- strated to his mind. In the progress, however, of geological investigation and of scriptural exegesis, it was found that this contradiction was only apparent, and thus huge stumbling blocks were removed from the path of the student. The clear light of Truth began to beam brightly on his labors. Instead of an opponent, Geology changed her position and she is now to be found foremost among those sciences which are executing their great mission in substantiating and confirming the great truths which are embodied in the revealed word, l^o longer does she stray from the paths of devotion, but returns, in the beautiful lan- guage of the learned Cardinal Wiseman,* "no long- er as she first went forth, a willful, dreamy, empty- handed child, but with a matronly dignity and a Connection between Science and Revealed Religion, I, 307. 49 priest-like step, and a bosom full of well-earned gifts to pile upon its sacred hearth." In the progress of some of the sciences, a similar anti-religious position may be assumed, which, be- ing seized by the artful and sophistic, is used to pre- pare the way for latitudinarian views that eventuate in the baldest infidelity. The deliverer always comes. Science is too jealous of her own integrity and puri- ty of purpose, to suffer herself to rest under imputa- tions of being forgetful of such high duties as rever- ence to religion. She raises up one of her sons, whom she supplies wdth proper weapons to extermi- nate the traitors in her camp. Whence he shall come is a matter of perfect indifference; it may be from the upper walks of life, but most likely fro»m the humblest station, even from the quarry, as a Hugh Miller of Cromarty, a gallant knight to do battle for Science in her glorious mission on earth. By such means she strips infidelity of the robes it has stolen from her own abode, and leaves it expos- ed in its true and naked deformity to the world. "The feeMe sea-birds, blinded in the storms, On some tall light-house dash their little forms, And the rude granite scatters for their pains Those small deposits that -were meant for brains. Yet the proud fabric, in the morning's sun, Stands all unconscious of the mischief done ; Still the red beacon pours its evening rays For the lost pilot with as full a blaze, Nay, shines, all radiance, o'er the scattered fleet Of gulls and boobies brainless at its feet. I tell their fate, though courtesy disclaims To call our kind by such ungentle names ; Yet, if your rashness bids you vainly dare, Think of their doom, ye simple, and beware."* The mission of Science will now be granted, we * Holme's Stability of Science. 4 50 trust, to be of such a character as to elicit our high- est admiration. But liow does it, in any way, sub- stantiate or confirm the truths of Revelation ? This is a query relevant to our discussion. Are not these truths to be received because they are of divine ori- gin, and because we have internal assurance as proof of their authenticity ? While replying affirm- atively to this interrogatory, we can also say that truth will never contradict itself, — that it must be perfect in all its minutiae, — harmonious and sys- tematic in all its parts, and if a contradiction could be found even in the smallest particular it would be an argument cogent and all powerful against the whole. Consistency must be exhibited by truth under whatever garb we find it, and hence we have the right to expect that all the references in Revelation to physical matters should be fully con- firmed and substantiated by the various departments of Science. And we may enter upon the most search- ing comparison of the two, and if, at first glance, ap- parent contradictions present themselves, these must not induce us either to reject the one or the other. Efibrts then must be redoubled to acquire the fullest knowledge of the apparent contradiction. The dross, which has been mixed with the jDure gold in conse- quence of the ignorance or wickedness of the refiner, must be removed, and when the assay is completed there will be obtained the noble metal freed from all impurities, which will exhibit the utmost uniform- ity of properties with the gold that is found in the revealed word. It is a ivant of thorough scientific knowledge that makes the skeptic. The religious subjects, which can be elucidated and substantiated by Science, are neither few nor unim- 51 portant in their character. The range is quite ex- tensive, — from the formation of the earth itself, the wonderful account of a deluge which involved the land and all its inhabitants, the dispersion of the na- tions, the destruction of the wicked cities of the plain, the interesting incidents in the history of the favored nation, — the varied descriptions of climate and coun- try and productions, and manners and customs — even to the physical causes of His death, in whom all Science and knowledge are united, and where they find their grandest apotheosis. The most posi- tive confirmation of all these is afforded from the storehouse of Science. Scriptural exegesis itself has been greatly aided by the interpretations of Science. We need only refer to the beautiful explanation given by the Eng- lish Chemist of the passage, " If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in so do- ing thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head.'^ This has been often quoted to show how refined a species of revenge can be obtained by returning good for evil, as though the Scriptures really advised such a plan as a most excellent mode of retaliation to- wards an enemy. But Chemistry teaches us,"^ that this is a " beautiful metaphor, taken from the ob- servance of the ancient practice of smelting ores with carbonaceous fuel, and meaning, to soften and sub- due the enemy by kindness, as metals are melted and reduced by fire." Again, the statements presented in the Mosaic ac- count of the Creation, are confirmed and substantia- ted by such evidence as this : geological truths im- * Griffith's Chemistry of Four Seasons, 290. 52 pressed in lithographs which have withstood the wearing effects of time, — strata filled with priceless treasures to the zealous naturalist, — the bodies or impressions of the bodies of living beings that have been locked up for centuries since their death in the rocky embrace of the earth,— lofty mountains pierc- ing the heavens with their cloud-capped summits and deep valleys shut out from the light of the sun, —beds of coal disentombed after an interment of a thousand years. A love of Truth has induced the scientific man to investigate the nature of each sep- arately, without reference to any supposed con- nection between them and the Scripture record. But Science, true to its mission, has gradually made known a more thorough knowledge of these subjects, and then has exhibited their importance as proof most irrefragable of the statements of Revelation. Many of her votaries have been led to such conclu- sions, although their studies had been directed to- wards the disproving of Revelation. And now again when a blow is aimed at the truths of religion, by the announcement that the varied forms of organic matter have been produced through the agency of a principle or law of development, — thus doing away with the idea of the necessary su- X)erintendence of the Deity, — ^when experiments, badly conceived and carelessly made, are brought forward as affording presumptive proof of the nature of the first generation of living beings, — (I refer to the experiments of the late Mr. Crosse of England, who alleged that he obtained, by exposing pulverized flints for a long time to the action of Electricity, a small insect, and thence concluded that he had de- tected the mode by which the germs of organic life, 53 although themselves inorganic, were quickened into life and being, and these afterwards by a series of gradual developments were elevated in the scale of being until the complete development was reached in the formation of man himself:) — even here Science has come forth and demonstrated the ridiculous character of the deductions made from experiments, the results of which could be explained in many other ways, and hurling aside such rash and ill- formed conclusions, has given strength to the idea — obtained from Eevelation — that there is no pro- ductive force in existence that can evoke life fi^om inanimate matter, save " the Spirit of God which first moved upon the face of the waters." Have we not the right to expect, in view of these facts in the past history of Science, that any apparent anti-religious character it may possess, will always be removed as a knowledge of its principles becomes more complete and thorough ? The young science of Ethnology, which is now loud in assertions that appear to strike at the truth of the Mosaic account of creation, as it grows up to the stature of manhood must show that it is also true to the mission of Science, and bring confirmation to the scriptural ac- count, rather than be recreant to this mission as at the present time, by leading the human mind off into disquisitions, which, although resulting in legit- imate conclusions, yet possess premises that are most loose and unscientific. With an abiding confidence in the nature of the mission of Science, religion may, here as elsewhere, fear nothing when Ethnology is better understood by its cultivators. The whole biblical history has been confirmed with wonderful exactness by the sciences which take spe- 54 cial cognizance of the natural history of countries, in which its personages have lived and died. The zeal- ous labors of a gallant officer of the American ISTavy have demonstrated how true, even to the very letter, was the devastation alleged to have been produced when the cities of the plain were destroyed for their wickedness. An indefatigable English traveller has disentombed from Nineveh the strongest corrobora- tions of its past history, — and has even detected such records on its monuments as have fully sustained the account of the miracle which was performed in the case of the prophet Jonah. The records of Geology bear signal testimony, not only to the mighty revo- lutions which must have taken place in the forma- tion of the earth, but also to others produced by a flood of waters which fully substantiate the deluge of Noah. When G-erman skepticism attacked the account of the crucifixion and death of Christ, German science came forth and showed how true it must be, from the very physical circumstances connected with the crucifix- ion as narrated by the Evangelists, and as compared with other cases on record and the facts of Physiolo- gy. Science, as we have already remarked, fights her own battles, with deep devotion to her mission, and, with a widely unfurled banner, bearing the in- scription, " Let there be light," goes forth conquer- ing all error, breaking up the resting places of igno- rance and superstition, bringing light to dark places, and adding fuel to those flames which are burn- ing with such pure lustre and brilliance on the altar of Religion. Her mission must thus eventuate, in the presentation of a higher and truer appreciation of the physical problem to every human mind, — and in a preparation, with all due reverence be it said, 55 for the proper understanding of the spiritual prob- lem, which it is man's duty to solve under the guid- ance of Religion's laws. We can honor this mission by lovingly cultivating Science, — each, in his own sphere, adding something to the sum of human knowledge. By means of ex- periment those principles, which are propounded for our credence can be tested, — the experimentation being effected either by the mechanical appliances which art has furnished, or by that mental alchemy which can extract pure gold from any possible alloy. Thus we shall not dishonor Science, by the employ- ment of principles wrested from their true uses and warped by our own mental obliquity, but place her in the proud position of being the hand-maiden of Religion. Good and true men must learn to bear with her, w^hen distortions of her principles are flaunted be- fore them as truths. They must learn not to reject truth, because of the errors, with which she is envel- oped by man's own inventions ; but rather learn how the coverings thus employed can be torn off and the true nature of the figure exhibited. Let them exer- cise an honest faith in her own ability to throw off excrescences and morbid growths, iind to put on a healthy vital action, even in those parts where dis- ease seems most to cripple her energies. When truth and error are arrayed against each other, the issue of the combat can be predicted with- out any great prophetic skill. It will be in accord- ance with the Law which was established when this world and its sister spheres were planned in the coun- cil-chambers of eternity — the Right shall ultimately conquer, and Truth must ever be victorious over the oppositions and assaults of Error. 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