Chapter V: Front Matter (5)

But it is said that even if these subjects be of such universal application, they may easily be acquired in after life when we have appeared as actors upon the great stage of the world. Then it is affirmed we may begin the study of morals and politics to most advantage, when theory and experiment may go hand in hand—when we may correct the visions of an overwrought imagination by the plain and palpable realities that exist around us. This opinion is certainly erroneous. The period of youth is the proper time to commence these studies. You have come up here, gentlemen, with minds and feelings not yet hackneyed in the beaten walks of a business life. You are now enlisted in no mere party warfare. Your hopes have not yet been damped by disappointment, nor your energies been deadened by adversity. All your affections and sympathies are warm and generous. Your hearts and heads have not been besieged by cold, inveterate selfishness, or perverted by unreasonable and noxious prejudices. You have as yet set up no false idols in the temple of the mind. Addicti jurare in verba nullius magistri. You stand committed to the cause of truth and justice alone. Under such circumstances you are in the best possible condition for the reception of pure and virtuous principles. Now is the time to imbibe the great lessons of morality and to study the general and elementary doctrines of government and politics. A little time hence you will have entered upon the bustling, busy theatre of the world. Your private interests and party prejudices will then rise up at every step to cloud your minds and pervert your judgments. Your moral and political researches will no longer be conducted with a single eye to truth and justice, but the demon of party will too probably exert an irresistible control over the little republics of the mind and heart.

There are no sciences which require the same full, free, and generous exercise of the feelings of the heart, as morals and politics. In the fixed sciences, it is a matter of very little concern to us what the character of the fact may be; all we aim at is mere truth. We do not care whether a triangle should have two, three, four, or five right angles; all we are in search of, is the mere fact, the real truth. Whilst we are conducting the inquiry, all the passions and active feelings of our nature are laid to rest, and the intellect is left alone and unbiassed to move directly to its results. But when we have reached the region of morals and politics, then do we find that all the passions, propensities and principles of our nature are brought into full play. The whole human being, as he has been made by our Creator, becomes then the important subject of our researches, and we can never arrive at just conclusions without a due consideration of all the forces which are in action. And this is one reason why these are really the most difficult of all sciences.

Hence, gentlemen, the wisest and greatest statesmen have been generally found among those who have directed their minds at an early period of their lives to morals and politics. Such men become deeply imbued with the great principles of those sciences in their youth. They are early taught to worship at the shrine of truth, while the ardent feeling of devoted patriotism banishes {764} from the mind all narrow considerations of selfishness and shields it against the intolerable prejudices of party spirit. A mind thus early and correctly impressed with the great elementary principles of morals and politics, will ever be well balanced and considerate in its conclusions, and rarely surprised into hasty and rash decisions. In looking to the speeches which emanate from our deliberative bodies, I have often been struck with the exemplification which they afford of the truth of this remark.

There is nothing in which our speakers are more defective than in comprehension of view. They seem too often to seize but one single point of a subject; and although they may move with a giant’s strength in that direction, yet the mind remains unsatisfied. One of the principal causes of this defect, is the want of a proper moral and political education in early life. They have not received elementary instruction sufficient to give the proper impulse to the mind. They are capable of taking but one view of a subject, and that is dictated by local and partial interests, or by too intense a consideration of but one set of circumstances. Such politicians, however brilliant they may be in mere detail, are incapable of taking the length, breadth and depth of a great subject; they lack scope and comprehension of idea, and cannot dive down to the bottom—where truth is always found. Such men may be efficient instruments when directed by the genius and the skill of the great politician, but are totally incapable of taking the lead in difficult times, because incapable of forming the conception of great plans and the means by which they are to be executed.[4]

[Footnote 4: Such was Lord Grenville, whose character was so ably sketched by Burke; and such a man was the famous Neckar of France, whose heart was good and whose mind was active, but he was unfortunately deficient in general information and in comprehension of idea. He had been a banker at Geneva and would have managed a great nation like a banking house. It is a curious fact and serves to show the penetration of Dr. A. Smith’s mind, that he always said Neckar would soon fall, though enjoying at first the greatest and most enviable popularity; and he made the prediction altogether from the character of his mind which he had thoroughly studied during a short period of association with him. Turgot may perhaps be given as an example of a really wise and great statesman, a man of an excellent elementary education, and of enlarged and liberal views. He has rarely had an equal in modern times, and may be considered in this respect as well contrasting with the two first mentioned. I could easily adduce similar striking illustrations in our own country, and especially among living statesmen, but it is unnecessary and might be improper.]

Of all the states in the Union, I may perhaps affirm without fear of contradiction, that Virginia has produced the greatest number of able and profound statesmen and of eloquent and efficient debaters. And to this fact, no doubt, has been owing principally that preponderating influence which she has so happily exerted in by-gone times upon the destiny of our confederacy. One great reason of the superiority of our orators and statesmen, is the fact that the mind of the Virginia youth has always been easily directed to the study of politics and morals. Our whole state hitherto has been one great political nursery, and I hesitate not to affirm that our old and venerable Alma Mater has had a powerful agency in the achievement of this result. The law, political and moral departments of this college have always been upon a high and respectable footing, and moral and political subjects have here always received a due consideration. Hence it is that old William and Mary can boast of so astonishing a number of distinguished statesmen in proportion to her alumni—statesmen with whom she might boldly challenge any other institution in this country, or even in the world—statesmen who, whilst they have woven the chaplet of her glory and engraven her name on the page of our country’s history, have illustrated by their eloquence and statesmanship the national legislature and federal government, and carried their pervasive influence into the councils of every state in our wide-spread confederacy. So that we may well say of our Alma Mater in view of these brilliant results, in the language of one of the Trojan wanderers,

Quis jam locus,
Quæ regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?

It is surely then a subject for congratulation, rather than censure, that the governors of our institution, whilst they have enlarged the course of studies in every department, have been particularly attentive to morals and politics, and have prescribed such a course on those subjects as will, I am in hopes, insure advantages never before enjoyed in this institution. The great mass of high intellect in all countries, must be employed in morals and politics, and no mind can have received its greatest enlargement, or be fully prepared for a faithful discharge of the great duties of life, without their study. This applies forcibly to our own country, but particularly to the slave-holding portion of it, and will lead me to make a few remarks on the inducements which should urge you, gentlemen, as Americans and Virginians, to make, whilst here, the greatest possible proficiency in all your studies.

The establishment of our federative system of government, has justly been considered as the commencement of a new era in the history of nations. It is emphatically the great experiment of the age in which we live; to it the eyes of all are directed, and upon its issue must the cause of liberty and republican institutions throughout the world, mainly depend. The great and distinguishing characteristic of our system is, that the sovereignty resides in the people—that they constitute the source of all political power, and the only check on the misconduct of rulers. Where such a system prevails, all must depend on the general intelligence and virtue of the mass. If the mainspring of our system is the sovereignty of the people, then does it follow that the people must be enlightened. In the language of the great author of the Declaration of Independence, “power is always stealing from the many to the few;” and nothing can prevent the gradual decay and final loss of our liberties, but unceasing vigilance on the part of the people. We must ever be upon the watch-tower, ready to give the alarm, not only when the citadel of our liberties is openly and violently attacked by the arm of bold and ruthless usurpation, but when we behold those secret and artful approaches to despotism, which gradually undermine the fabric of our institutions, and give no signs of coming mischief, until we are involved in irremediable ruin.

Every man throughout our wide-spread republic, must take his share of responsibility in the result of the great experiment which is now going forward. There is no privileged class here to rule by the right divine. {765} Far different is our case from the despotisms of the ancient world, or the monarchies of the modern. Sovereignty resided formerly at Babylon, at Thebes, at Persepolis. Now we find it at Paris, Vienna, and London. But in our own more happy country, it pervades our territory like the very air we breathe, reaching the farthest, and binding the most distant together. Politics here is the business of every man, no matter how humble his condition may be. We have it in commission to instruct the world in the science and the art of government. We must, if we succeed, exhibit the extraordinary phenomenon of a well-educated, virtuous, intelligent people, “free without licentiousness—religious without a religious establishment—obedient to laws administered by citizen magistrates, without the show of official lictors or fasces, and without the aid of mercenary legions or janissaries.” As a nation, a glorious charge has devolved upon us. Our condition prescribes to each one the salutary law of Solon, that there shall be no neutrals here. Each one must play his part in the great political drama; and you, gentlemen, who have assembled here for the purpose of receiving a liberal education, must recollect that fortunate circumstances have placed you among the privileged few. Every motive of honor, of patriotism, and a laudable ambition, should stimulate to the utmost exertion. Neglect not the precious opportunity which is afforded you. The _five talents_ are entrusted to your care; beware lest you bury or throw them away. This is the most important era of your life—the very seedtime of your existence; success now may insure you success hereafter.

The age in which you live, and the circumstances by which you are surrounded, as inhabitants of the south, create a special demand for your utmost exertions. The times are indeed interesting and momentous. We seem to have arrived at one of those great periods in the history of man, when fearful and important changes are threatened in the destiny of the world. In the prophetic language of the boldest of philosophers, we may perhaps with truth affirm, that “the crisis of revolutions is at hand.” Never were the opinions of the world more unsettled and more clashing than at this moment. Monarchists and democrats, conservatives and radicals, whigs and tories, agrarians and aristocrats, slaveholders and non-slaveholders, are all now in the great field of contention. What will be the result of this awful conflict, none can say. England’s most eloquent and learned divine tells us, that there now sits an unnatural scowl on the aspect of the population—a resolved sturdiness in their attitude and gait; and whether we look to the profane recklessness of their habits, or to the deep and settled hatred which rankles in their hearts, we cannot but read in these moral characteristics the omens of some great and impending overthrow. The whole continent of Europe is agitated by the conflicts of opinions and principles; and we are far, very far from the calm and quiet condition which betokens the undoubted safety of the republic.

When the times are so interesting and exciting; when clouds are lowering above the political horizon, portending fearful storms; when the lapse of time is every day disclosing great and startling events, can you, gentlemen, fold your arms in inglorious indolence—throw away the opportunity that is now offered you—fail to prepare for the important part which should devolve on you, and add yourselves to the great mass of the unaspiring, illiterate citizens, who have been in all ages and all countries the blind instruments with which despotism has achieved its results. I hope—yes, I know, that at this moment a worthier and a nobler impulse actuates every one of you. And you must recollect too, that you are generally members of that portion of our confederacy whose domestic institutions have been called in question by the meddling spirit of the age. You are slaveholders, or the sons of slaveholders, and as such your duties and responsibilities are greatly increased. He who governs and directs the action of others, needs especially intelligence and virtue. Prepare yourselves, then, for this important relation, so as to be able to discharge its duties with humanity and wisdom. Then can we exhibit to the world the most convincing evidence of the justice of our cause; then may we stand up with boldness and confidence against the frowns of the world; and if the demon of fanaticism shall at last array its thousands of deluded victims against us, threatening to involve us in universal ruin by the overthrow of our institutions, we may rally under our principles undivided and undismayed—firm and resolute as the Spartan band at Thermopylæ; and such a spirit, guided by that intelligence which should be possessed by slaveholders, will ever insure the triumph of our cause. I will not dwell longer at present on the high motives which should urge you to exertion; but let me call your attention to some of the evils and temptations which will beset you in your collegiate career, and against which I must now warn you to be on your guard.

There are many persons opposed to a college education, because it is supposed to subject the youth to strong temptations, and in the end, to lead many into dissipation and vice, who might otherwise pass through life moral and correct citizens. I will not say that temptation does not exist here—that evil may not arise to some from their connection with college. But I do affirm unhesitatingly, that there is no better preparation for the great world into which you are soon to enter, than a proper discharge of your duties in the little one with which you are now about to connect yourselves. The individual who passes through a college life with honor and credit to himself, resisting the little temptations which beset him, has already been tried and tested, and his virtue is of a much more stern and genuine character than that of him who has never gone forth from the paternal roof, and consequently never been disciplined in the school of his equals. You may rest assured that every one of you who shall pass safely through this ordeal, will be a better and a more useful citizen, because of the very temptations which you may have triumphantly resisted whilst here.

Let me then call on each of you to guard against all excesses which may lure you from the path of your duties—remember that one transgression tempts to another, until the individual becomes hardened and reckless in his course. Beware of the very beginnings of vice; a little indulgence at first, believed even to be harmless, may lead to melancholy ruin in the end. Never forget the great purpose for which your parents have sent you here, and never permit, for a moment, any circumstances to divert you from it. Be firm, be determined in your course; listen not to the Syren voice of {766} pleasure and dissipation, but acquire at once that manliness and resolution which will enable you to say NO! when pressed to do wrong; and you may rest assured that you will meet with your recompense not only in after life, but here, even whilst you are students. I may claim to have some experience in this matter. I have been myself a student in this college, and for some years past have been connected with it, and have been no inattentive observer of passing events; and it gives me pleasure to assure you, that the economical, moral, and diligent students have always been the most popular, and the most highly esteemed by their companions. Are there any honors to be conferred?—those are the gentlemen to receive them. Are there any distinguished duties to perform?—those are the individuals invited to discharge them. It is their names which are sounded with praise by their fellow-students, wherever they go in society; and their reputation survives and is cherished, while those who have spent their time in idleness and dissipation are forgotten; or if remembered, remembered to be condemned.

It too often happens that the youth at college imagines that he has rights and interests to defend adverse to those of his instructers. This false impression is pregnant with the most mischievous consequences. It arrays the student against the professor, introduces disorder and idleness into the institution, and in the end becomes, perhaps, the cause of the student’s dismission, and consequently of irreparable injury to himself, and of pain and mortification to his friends and relatives. Now, gentlemen, I beg you to reflect a moment on the absurdity of this opinion. Where can there be any hostility of interest between your instructers and yourselves? Is it not our interest, as well as yours, that you should be diligent in your studies, correct and moral in your deportment? Does not the student who makes the greatest proficiency in his studies, earn the greatest honor for himself, while he reflects the greatest renown upon the college? and I can assure you that we feel proud indeed when we behold those who have received our instruction gracing and adorning the spheres in which they move. Where, then, is the hostility of interest? There is none; the belief is vain and idle. The right for which the student is induced to contend, is often nothing more than the _right_ to do _wrong_, the exercise of which always proves more destructive to himself than detrimental to us. If the student would only take a correct view of this subject, there would be nothing more endearing and harmonious than the relation of professor and pupil. The complexion of his whole future life may depend upon his acquirements and conduct whilst here. It is our duty, and it is his interest, that we should guard and restrain when he would run into excess. It has been my fortune to meet with several in the world who have spent their collegiate lives in reckless dissipation and idleness. I have beheld them while reaping the bitter fruits of their conduct; have heard their confessions of deep regret, and seen them shed the tear of heartfelt repentance; and I have not met with one who did not wish that he could run his race again, that he might avoid the errors of his youth.

But, independently of the motives of interest which should operate on you, there are others, of an elevated character, which must ever stimulate the generous and the virtuous. The friends and relatives, who dwell around the enchanted spot of your nativity and boyhood, and seem associated with your very existence, are looking with interest to your career whilst here, and calling upon you for exertion during this eventful period of your lives. But, most of all, should the anxious, the painful solicitude, which is felt for your welfare by those beloved beings who have guided you along the path of infancy urge you onwards. Never forget the joy with which you may recompense your kind indulgent parents by your assiduity and success while here; nor the sorrow and mortification which you may occasion by your idleness and misconduct. You have, indeed, the happiness of the authors of your existence in your hands, and a generous heart will recoil from the infliction of sorrow. And let me urge you to keep up a frequent and unreserved correspondence with your families; reveal, frankly, all that occurs concerning yourselves, and never neglect the mandate of a father, or spurn the advice of a mother. Perhaps I could not give you better counsel, than to beg you never to forget the example of Marmontel. When you are about to perform a questionable act, let each one pause, and ask himself, “what would my mother say if she knew what I am about to do?”[5]

[Footnote 5: I know of no one thing more essential to the prosperity of any college than the co-operation of the parent or guardian with the discipline of the institution. Such co-operation furnishes a sanction to the laws which can be derived from no other quarter. Hence my anxiety that a constant and frequent correspondence, of the most unreserved character, should be carried on between the students and their families. A timely letter from a father or a mother, has saved many a young man from ruin, by making him pause in his career and reflect on his conduct.]

After having made these general remarks, I must call your attention, particularly, to several vices which the Faculty will be bound to take every means within their power effectually to suppress. These are, _extravagance, drinking and gambling_. The visitors at the last meeting of the convocation were so much impressed with the belief of the great injury which the extravagant habits of southern students have done to the cause of literature, that they passed a regulation requiring the Faculty to obtain, if possible, from each merchant in town, a pledge, that he would, in no case, extend credit to the students unless upon application from the parent or guardian, made known through the President, or some one of the Faculty. I am most happy to say, that every merchant in town has given the pledge with a willingness and promptness which reflect the greatest credit on the mercantile portion of our city, and mark, conclusively a generous disregard of all selfish considerations, when arrayed against the permanent interests of the town and college. In justice to the merchants, I must state to you, that they have subscribed to this pledge with no motives of hostility towards any of your number, or from any dissatisfaction at the conduct of any one of you. Their act has been the result of the most praiseworthy motives.[6]

[Footnote 6: The resolution of the visitors is as follows:

_Resolved_, That it is highly expedient that the practice of students buying on credit should be stopped: and therefore, that the President be directed to endeavor to obtain the consent and a formal pledge from the merchants and dealers of Williamsburg, not to furnish commodities in any case to a student, on credit, unless by the written authority of the parent or guardian, communicated through the Faculty: And it is made the duty of the President, should his application be rendered unsuccessful by {767} the refusal to give such pledge, or a violation of it, if given, to correspond with the guardians or parents of the young men at college, advising them to give explicit instructions to their wards or sons not to deal, either in cash or on credit, with any such merchant or dealer.]

You may suppose, gentlemen, that the conduct of the Visitors and Faculty in this matter has been unwarrantable, and unnecessarily strict; but a moment’s reflection will convince you of your error. This regulation has been made after the maturest consideration of the subject, and past experience not only justified, but absolutely demanded such a step. I know of no one thing more loudly and more universally complained of in all our southern institutions than the unreasonable and absurd extravagance of many of the students who attend them. This evil, in some cases, has been enormous, and I have known many parents to be so much discontented with the conduct of their sons in this respect, as to cut short their education, and to become so disgusted with a college life as to resolve never more to subject a son to the same temptation. Now, the principal cause of this lavish expenditure of money, has been the facility with which credit has been obtained. The facility of obtaining credit has ruined even many a cautious man, by the temptations which have been thrown in his way, and the consequent inducements which have been offered to him to run into debt. During the ardent, and too often thoughtless period of youth, experience has shown that this privilege becomes too dangerous to be trusted to the individual. He adds expense to expense—proceeds from one extravagance to another, until he becomes perfectly reckless in his career. Prices, of course, will be enhanced in proportion to the risk which the creditor runs. Those who are honest are made to pay for those who are not. And thus many a student, before he has had a pausing season for reflection, finds an aggregate of items arrayed against him, which draws down the displeasure of his parent, or materially embarrasses his own little property.

The resolution of the Board of Visitors is intended, if possible, to eradicate this evil. The student’s expenses now must be known to his parents and guardians, or they must give their express consent to his obtaining credit. If he shall be still extravagant, the responsibility must rest with him and his parents; we shall have done our duty. But we hope, most sincerely, that you will keep in view both your own and the college interests in this particular. Strict economy on the part of the student at college is a great virtue. Let each one remember that the money which he spends here has not been wrung from his brow, but from that of another. Liberality with that which is mine may be generous, but with that which is another’s, is often selfish and culpable. I beg you to reflect upon the consequences of extravagance while here: it leads the student into idle, dissipated habits, and defeats the great purposes for which he has entered our institution; it blights his future prospects, and draws down upon him the displeasure of his parents. But, above all, gentlemen, let me bid you remember that which must always move the generous heart of youth. Your extravagance here extends beyond yourselves; it may reach your innocent brothers and sisters—your parents may become disgusted, or their resources may be contracted, and a Bacon or a Newton may be made to follow the plough, because the thoughtless, prodigal son has gone before them. And thus may it be affirmed, but too truly, that every increase of collegiate expense necessarily inflicts an injury on the great cause of science and education. There may be those whose ample resources may place them far above the necessity of strict economy. To them I would say, that it is selfish, or thoughtless at least, to indulge, before those with whom they must associate, in a style of expenditure which they cannot imitate without ruin to themselves and their parents. Liberality, under such circumstances, ceases to be generous—it becomes a species of selfish ostentation, which reflects no credit on him who displays it, and does great injury to his associates. To every one of you, then, let me recommend rigid economy, and you may be sure of reaping your reward in more steady habits, increased diligence, and a more perfect preparation for the great theatre of life on which you expect to enter.

Upon the subject of drinking and gambling, I shall say but a few words; the melancholy consequences of these vices are known to all—how the one stupifies and benumbs the faculties of the mind and the body, while the other reaches the citadel of the heart, and generates a train of the blackest vices which human nature is heir to. Let me beg you to beware of these vices, which have plunged so many families into distress and mourning, and have generated so large a portion of the misery of the world. Take care how far you indulge, lest your ruin come before you are aware of it. Our laws are severe against these vices, and experience has convinced us that we must rigidly execute them. But I hope the propriety of your course here will furnish us with no occasion for the enforcement of our laws.

In conclusion upon this subject, I will say to you, that if the students of William and Mary shall bind themselves, during their residence at college, not to spend more than a certain amount of pocket money, which should be moderate—not to taste ardent spirits any where, nor wine, or any other intoxicating liquor, except in private families, and not to touch a card, or play for money at any game of hazard, and shall strictly conform to these resolutions—then you will indeed have formed a temperance society, of which you may be justly proud—one that will do the greatest honor to yourselves, establish the reputation of our college, and set an example to the world whose benefit may extend throughout our country; and the students of ’36 and ’37 will long be remembered in the College of William and Mary. How far superior will such a reputation as this be to that short-lived notoriety purchased by extravagance and dissipation, and terminating too often in mortification and ruin. The case of the student is a very peculiar one; if he can pass through his short career at college, with all due diligence and propriety, he will have achieved for himself a great result. Full success in his studies during the few brief months that he remains within our college walls, may accomplish more for his future standing, and future happiness, than many years of hard toil and labor in after life, without the advantages which he might have reaped whilst here. It is for this reason that a society of the kind which I have just recommended must succeed here, if it can succeed any where. For you have only to adhere to your temperance vow for a few months, and the benefit is attained. But whether you shall form such a society as this or not, {768} let every one of you endeavor, whilst here, to be economical, temperate and diligent; and such as persevere in this course, whatever may be said to the contrary, are most respected and honored by their fellow-students, make the greatest proficiency in their studies, and turn out at last the most valuable and distinguished members of society.

There are many other subjects to which I would wish to call your attention; but the limits which I have prescribed myself in this address, compel me to be brief. Our laws forbid your entry into taverns, and likewise all drinking parties and suppers among yourselves. Experience has shown these things to be ruinous to the students, and highly pernicious to the interests of the institution. You are to respect the college premises—not to deface or injure the college buildings. Each one of you is to be responsible for the injury done to his room, and to pay for all the injury which he may do to the buildings—always bearing in recollection that you come here not to exercise your knives, but your heads.

I would advise you particularly to be punctual in your attendance on divine service every Sabbath, and to be respectful and attentive whilst in church. He who disturbs a religious congregation, not only manifests a censurable disregard of religion, but exhibits an unfeeling heart, and is guilty of conduct which is not gentlemanly. An enlightened pulpit is not only the source of religious instruction, but of morality and civilization; and a truly pious clergyman merits the respect, the love, and gratitude of the world, for he is one of the greatest of its benefactors. Be always respectful in your conversation towards religion, not only from regard to the feelings of others, but for the sake of your own reputation. Avowed infidelity is now considered by the enlightened portion of the world as a reflection both on the head and heart. The Atheist has long since been overthrown by the light of nature, and the Deist by that of revelation. The Infidel and the Christian have fought the battle, and the latter has won the victory. The Humes and Voltaires have been vanquished from the field, and the Bacons, Lockes, and Newtons have given in their adhesion. The argument is closed forever, and he who now obtrudes on the social circle his infidel notions, manifests the arrogance of a literary coxcomb, or that want of refinement which distinguishes the polished gentleman. If there be among you any ministers of the gospel, or professors of religion studying with a view to the ministry, to them we cheerfully open our lecture-rooms, free of all expense, and shall consider ourselves as highly recompensed, if the instruction which we may communicate shall be made instrumental in promoting virtue and true religion.

A copy of our laws will be placed in the hands of each one of you: read and respect them. On the part of the Faculty, with which I have the honor to be connected, I have to state that the discipline of the college must and will be enforced. The oath of office, the reputation of the institution, your own welfare and success, all demand vigilance and promptness on our part. From your instructers you will always receive kind, affectionate, and parental treatment, and you may well believe it will ever be painful to us to animadvert on your conduct, or to inflict the penalties required by our laws. Nothing but a high sense of duty could lead us to proceed against those for whom the bare relation which subsists between us must generate feelings of the kindest character. The professor, who is kind to the student, and attentive to his interests, while he nerves himself upon all occasions to a discharge of his duty, is always his greatest benefactor; and the student will acknowledge it as soon as he has left the college walls.

Be diligent, be perseveringly attentive to your studies, and you have the antidote against all the evils and temptations to which college life is incident. And let me advise you, particularly in your evening rambles and social gatherings, to direct your thoughts and conversation to subjects of importance, particularly to the subject of your lectures. Enlightened, intelligent conversation is a source of great mental improvement; it brings mind into conflict with mind, sharpens the faculties, gives increased relish for study, and greatly enlarges the stock of information by an interchange of ideas. It is for this reason that a few intelligent men in a county will be found quickly to raise its intellectual level; and a few inquiring, successful students in a college, will in like manner quickly inspire the whole number with ardor and devotion to study. Hence the fact which the statistics of all long established colleges will prove, that great men are not sent out from their walls one by one, from year to year, in regular succession, but they come at longer intervals, and always in little platoons. Thus are we convinced of the interesting fact, that genius is rarely solitary—it delights in company. The example and conversation of the successful student arouse and stimulate his companions, and lead them along with himself to distinction.[7]

[Footnote 7: Our own college furnishes most conclusive proof of the truth of these remarks. I will give only two examples, and comment will be unnecessary. John Randolph, L. W. Tazewell, Robert B. Taylor, and John Thompson, author of the letters signed “Curtius,” were the heavy product of one season; while P. P. Barbour, B. W. Leigh, Chapman Johnson, Henry St. George Tucker, (President of Court of Appeals,) Robert Stanard, J. C. Cabell, and Lewis Harvie were that of another; and during the whole time William and Mary College rarely numbered more than sixty students. I have been informed, on inquiry into this subject, that the northern colleges, especially Yale and Harvard, furnish similar instances. It is said, for example, that the class in which Harrison Gray Otis graduated at Cambridge, yielded a most extraordinary number of great men in proportion to its size.]

Let me advise you by all means to discard at once that absurd notion, which has made an illiterate man of many a vain student—that genius delights not in labor. Very different is the fact; love of study, and unshaken perseverance in the pursuit of its object, is the true characteristic of genius every where. The men of genius who have built up the great systems of philosophy, and laid the foundation of civilization, have all been laborious students, as well as deep thinkers; they have been the true working-men of the world. Such men were Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes and Cicero, of antiquity, and such have been the Luthers, the Bacons, and Newtons of modern times, and such all men are compelled to be, who possess a laudable ambition for distinction and usefulness. In the language of Doctor Johnson we may assert, that “all the performances of human art, at which we look with praise and wonder, are the results of perseverance. It is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united by canals. It is therefore of the utmost importance that those who have any intention of {769} deviating from the beaten track of life, and of acquiring a reputation superior to names hourly swept away by time among the refuse of fame, should add to their reason and their spirit the _power of persisting in their purposes_, acquire the art of sapping what they cannot batter, and the habit of vanquishing obstinate resistance by obstinate attacks.”

There is even a great deal of labor requisite on your part to place yourselves on the intellectual level of the age in which you live. In the beautiful language of one of the ablest writers of our country, we can truly say, “it is not with us as it was in former times, when science belonged to solitary studies, or philosophical ease, or antiquarian curiosity. It has escaped from the closet, and become an habitual accompaniment of every department of life. It accosts us equally in the highways and byways. We meet it in the idle walk, and in the crowded street; in the very atmosphere we breathe, in the earth we tread on, in the ocean we traverse, and on the rivers we navigate. It visits the workshop of the mechanic, the laboratory of the apothecary, the chambers of the engraver, the vats of the dyer, the noisy haunts of the spinning-jenny, and the noiseless retreats of the bleachery. It crosses our paths in the long-winding canal, in the busy rail-road, in the flying steamboat, and in the gay and gallant merchant-ship, wafting its products to every clime. It enters our houses, sits down at our firesides, lights up our conversations and revels at our banquets. One is almost tempted to say that the whole world seems in a blaze, and that the professors in science, and the dealers in the arts surround us by their magical circles, and compel us to remain captives in the spells of their witchcraft.” And can you consent to waste your time in inglorious repose and idleness, while the whole world is blazing with philosophy? No, gentlemen, you cannot. Arouse all your energies, waken up your faculties, enter on your career like the combatant at the Olympic Games, resolved to win the prize, and in advance I tell you, the victory will be yours.

You are here placed amid scenes which may well excite a noble and a laudable ambition, and make the bosom of the patriot throb. You tread on classic soil—a soil connected with associations which carry the imagination back to bygone days, and fix it on the noble achievements of philanthropists, heroes, statesmen, and sages. There is every thing here to excite generous aspirations. On the one side of you is the almost hallowed island where our hardy forefathers made the first lodgment of civilization on our portion of the western world, in face of the wilderness and the savage foe. On another side, not far removed, is the spot where the father of his country wound up the drama of the revolution, by that great and signal victory which gave us peace, and ensured us so important a station among the nations of the earth. You will assemble daily in these classic halls, which have witnessed the collegiate labors of some of the greatest and noblest men who have ever lived in the tide of time; men who have raised up their country’s glory, and gone down to their graves covered with the laurels which their genius and their virtues won. Fronting this building, at the other end of our street, and in full view, stand the interesting remains of the Old Capitol of Virginia, which every true Virginian must gaze on with mingled emotions of pride and pleasure—a building in which the chivalry and talent of our state were assembled during the dark days of the revolution, when Wythe, Pendleton, and Jefferson displayed their wisdom in council, and Lee, Mason and the matchless Henry poured forth those strains of sublime eloquence which animated and cheered the drooping spirit of the land, and warmed the heart and braced up the nerve of the patriot. Looking on such scenes as these—contemplating the great minds that have been nursed in our institution, and the intellectual Titans who have won their trophies on this interesting theatre, can you fail to be inspired with a noble ambition?—an ambition to imitate those mighty men who have gone before you, and whom the genius of the place in silent eloquence summons to your recollection. The author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire tells us, that he first caught the inspiration which gave rise to his great work, while gazing from the modern capitol of Rome on the ruins that lie scattered over the vallies and the seven hills. May we not hope then that many of you will catch a similar inspiration amid the interesting objects which surround you while breathing, in this old and hospitable city, a political atmosphere that still retains all the ardor and patriotism of former days? Again then, gentlemen, I call on you for perseverance and unremitting exertion; and in view of all the circumstances which surround and stimulate you while here, may I not say to you, in conclusion, that your friends, your parents, your instructers, expect every one to do his duty.

THE BRIDEGROOM’S DREAM.

BY MISS C. E. GOOCH, _Of Washington City_.

Come gaze upon the moon, my love,
Upturn thy bonny brow,
And I’ll tell thee a dream I had
Beneath her light just now.

I did not mean to slumber, love,
But gazed into the skies,
Till gentle sleep came softly down,
And clos’d my weary eyes.

I dream’d that I was lying there,
As I before had lain,
Upgazing on the lady moon,
And winking stars again.

Methought, a snowy-feathery cloud
That hover’d round the moon,
Came sailing down toward the earth,
And chang’d its semblance soon.

It was a pinnace—beautiful,
Of silver made and pearl,
And there was seated at the helm
A most entrancing girl.

About her lurk’d some witching spell
The sternest heart could bow, {770}
Nay—look not sad, my own dear girl,
That ladye fair—was thou!

“Come dearest,” softly didst thou cry,
And seated by thy side,
We sprang up in the buoyant boat
Cleaving the airy tide.

Far swifter than the lightning’s flash—
Far swifter than the wind,
Yea—swifter than the viewless thought
We left the world behind!

And smilingly thy dark blue eyes
Were ever fixed on mine,
I felt a thrilling through my veins,
An ecstacy divine!

Upward and upward, onward still,
Until we reach’d the bound
Of that encircling atmosphere
That girdles earth around.

A sudden pause—a giddy whirl,
Lo! we had pass’d the bound,
And quickly as a beam of light,
Sank down on _lunar_ ground!

We two have stray’d through many vales,
Thou well might’st lovely call,
But that fair valley of the moon
Was loveliest of them all!

Soft rippling o’er a silver lake
The wind sang through the trees,
And every thing was gather’d round,
Each dainty sense to please.

Young odorous flowers, of rainbow dye,
Sprang up beneath our feet;
And fruit, that seem’d to tempt our taste,
Was more than earthly sweet.

I thought in that lone valley,
Were none but thou and I,
And we were destined there to live,
To _live_—and _love_—and _die_.

A destiny so calmly blest,
So free from earthly pain,
Say, can you wonder that I griev’d
To wake on earth again?

Yes! thou art _mine_, my beautiful,
And we are happy now;
But sorrow will come to the heart,
And sadness to the brow.

Sickness will come, with pallid hand,
And poverty may press;
Yes, earth with all its earthly cares,
Will mar our happiness.

Yet do not sigh, my own lov’d bride,
I shall be with thee still;
And will we not, by sharing, half
Annihilate each ill?

ESSAYS OF GILCHRIST.[1]

[Footnote 1: See last Messenger.]