Conclusion by the Editor. Tokens of Love from Many. Keeps Writing.
Controversy with the _Standard_. Last Meeting with His Mother. Visited
by Professors McGarvey and Graham. Commits His Writings to the Latter.
Visits Eminence and Lexington. Many Brethren Come to See Him. Meeting
at Mt. Byrd. Estimate of His Character. The Closing Scenes. Farewell to
His Family. Dies. Funeral Services.
The foregoing autobiography closes with June 13, 1885, while the life
of the author was prolonged till January 6, 1887, and it remains for
the editor to record a few of the incidents transpiring in the
interval; and to bring this remarkable recital to a close.
Midsummer found Bro. Allen in his "Cottage Home," at Mt. Byrd, growing
weaker in body day by day, but with no very acute suffering. Everything
that devoted love on the part of his family and church could suggest
for his comfort was done; and there were not wanting from abroad many
tokens of undying affection, as it became generally known that he was
gradually but surely passing away. Many of his friends, and especially
preachers, came to Mt. Byrd as to a Mecca, to find their pilgrimage
repaid in the fresh inspiration received by communing with this saintly
man. The company of his brethren did not weary him; on the contrary, it
seemed to have a favorable effect on both his body and mind; he greatly
desired the visits of his friends, and found comfort in them. Still
many were deterred from going to see him for fear it might disturb the
quiet which they hoped would contribute to lengthen out his days.
Meanwhile he kept writing with a diligence and persistence marvelous to
those who witnessed it, and incredible to others; so much so, that many
at a distance could not understand how one so near the grave could
continue to write so much and so well; hence the hope entertained that
he might survive for years to bless the church and the world. It must
be remembered that his disease never affected his mind, and that, like
most persons who die of consumption, he retained the full possession of
his mental faculties even unto the end. Besides, he was sustained by an
indomitable will that hesitated at nothing that stood in the way of
duty; added to which was an unfaltering trust in God and a joyous
resignation to His will, causing him to cease praying for longer life.
Propped up in an invalid chair with a convenience of his own invention,
he continued his weekly editorials to the _Guide_ as regularly as ever,
and developed abilities as an editor that none suspected he possessed
till the last years of his life.
It was at this time that the unfortunate controversy began between the
_Guide_ and the _Standard_ about our work in London, England, causing
so much regret on the part of many friends of both papers. It was
feared by some that this controversy would work irreparable injury to
our mission enterprises, not only in England, but in other lands, for
we all realized that Titans were engaged in the conflict; men, not like
those of old, giants in physical strength and daring, but of
intellectual power intensified by the love of God and his cause. Of
course the disputants viewed the matter from different angles, and
both, we must think, were equally sincere in their convictions. The
present writer was not of those who thought upon the whole harm would
come of this dispute, though he deeply regretted the asperity with
which it was conducted. In our present imperfect state we need, I doubt
not, these conflicts to remind us of our frailty, and if only we have
grace to profit by them, God will turn them to our good and to His own
glory. It is a source of devout thankfulness to those who knew Bro.
Allen's unselfish purpose, that many who censured his course united
with multitudes who approved it in paying honor to his memory, when the
messenger who ends all earthly strifes called him to his final account.
In July, 1885, his aged and revered mother made him a visit, and
remained some time; it was their last meeting; and now that her gifted
son has gone to his reward, she waits in joyous hope for the day that
shall reunite them forever.
A few weeks later it was the pleasure of the writer, in company with
Prof. McGarvey, to spend two days at Mt. Byrd, in delightful fellowship
with this grand man. He had been apprised of our coming, and was
prepared for it. Truly, to him and to us it was a foretaste of the joys
of the future world, and we left him the same resolute, confiding
servant of Christ he had ever been, wholly resigned to the will of God
and rejoicing in assured hope of eternal rest.
It pleased his Master to protract his life and usefulness a little
longer, and so 1885 closed, and we find him still with his family,
receiving many tokens of love from them and from brethren far away.
Spring comes, and birds and flowers; the bright sunshine beams into his
chamber, and now and then he is barely able to walk out to see and feel
his Father's goodness bathing all things in quiet beauty. He repines
not, knowing that "our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."
He continues to write, and with the rest the preceding chapter of
"Reflections on his Fiftieth Birthday." He commits it, his diary, and
other writings to me, with the request that I do with them as I think
best, for now he is sure that this unequal contest with mortality can
not last much longer.
Summer comes, and with it increasing weakness, but no diminution of his
trust in God. He wishes to visit Eminence once more, and to see his two
younger daughters graduate from the college that had helped himself in
former years. He attends, and then, unable to walk without help, he
comes on to Lexington, to spend commencement week among his friends and
brethren; this done, he returns to his beloved Mt. Byrd, to leave it no
more till he goes to stand with the redeemed on the Mount of God.
During the fall of this year hardly a week passed that several of his
relatives and Christian brethren were not found at his home; and did
not the limit of this chapter forbid, we would like to record their
names, for in love they came to testify their admiration for him and
their sympathy with his sorrowing family. For one and all he had a word
of cheer, and none came away without being deeply impressed with the
conviction that he had been with one of the purest and best of men--one
who lived in daily communion with his Maker. His one theme of
conversation was religion, and if we may judge from his increasing
delight in it, to no one was death a more gentle transition from faith
to sight. Narrow, indeed, to him was the bourn that divides the seen
from the unseen, the temporal from the eternal, and the labors of earth
from the felicities of heaven. He daily lived upon the boundary of two
worlds.
In October, Bro. J. K. P. South held a meeting with the Mt. Byrd
church, and, though feeble beyond measure, Bro. Allen made out to
attend a few times, and even to take part in prayer and exhortation,
sitting in his chair. Only twice after this was he able to be carried
to the Lord's house, but on neither occasion could he take an active
part in the worship.
In all the relations of life Bro. Allen was a model of all that is
lovable in human character--kind, gentle, considerate of the feelings
of others, even the least, and always cheerful. A refined and delicate
humor pervaded his conversation, which was always chaste and
instructive. There was in him a moderation that always attends reserved
power, and a candor that was transparent; these qualities, united with
an equipoise of intellectual and moral strength, harmony of emotions,
and hatred of everything mean or unfair, made him revered by his
friends, and an idol in his household. Wife, children, servants, all
who came into that charmed circle, were attached to him in a love that
bordered on idolatry. To draw a portraiture of this remarkable man
would indeed be a pleasing task did space allow--his logical
penetration, depth of feeling, strength of will, energy, industry,
unwavering faith in God and goodness, and, crowning all, his fidelity
to the gospel of Christ--but it is unnecessary. To us who knew him
these virtues were conspicuous; by others, they may be gathered from
the unvarnished story of his life as it is told in the foregoing pages.
We must hasten to the closing scene.
On New Year's day, 1887, he laid down his pen to resume it again no
more. He was forced to this by sheer exhaustion; his body was wasted to
a skeleton, and it was clear to all that the end was near. Having
suffered much for several days, but without a murmur, on the evening of
Jan. 5 he requested all his family to come to his bedside, and while
their hearts were breaking for grief and all eyes were blinded with
tears, he spoke to them for the last time.
"My dear children," said he, "I want to say a few things to you while I
can. I may not be able to do it if I put it off longer. I will soon
leave you, and I know you will miss me. It is hard for you to give me
up, but it is the will of God, and you must bear up as best you can. I
am sure I have always had your love, and you have always obeyed me; and
now I want you to always love and obey your mother. Remember, wherever
you may be, that you are all of one household. Live in peace, and let
no strife or discord spring up among you." Taking the hand of each of
his daughters, he asked them to meet him in heaven, and then kissed
them good-bye.
Laying his hand upon Frank's head, he said, "My dear son, papa has to
leave you." "O papa," said the lad, "pray not to die." "We have prayed,
my dear boy, but it is God's will to take me home, and He knows best.
You must love your mamma and obey her; be good to your sisters. I want
you to grow up and become a minister of the gospel. Try to make a
better preacher than your papa has been. Be studious and industrious,
and live so that you may at last meet me in heaven. May God bless you,
my son, and keep you in His care. Kiss me good-bye."
Throwing one arm around his wife, he said, "My dear, my affliction has
been a blessing to me in having you near me all the time. You have been
everything on earth that a good wife could be. I have loved you even
more in my affliction than I ever did before. I want to thank you for
all your kindness to me and loving care of me. If I have ever done or
said anything I should not, I want you to forgive me now. I can say on
my dying bed that I have always been a true husband to you. I have made
the best provision I could for you and the children, and if there
should appear any mistakes they have not been of my heart." He then
bade her a long and last farewell.
He then blessed his three little grandchildren and kissed them;
expressed a desire to see his "dear old mother," brother and sisters
once more, and spoke of some business matters a moment, then said,
"This is too sacred for that."
For two or three days before this he had been able to speak only a few
words at a time; but throughout this interview with his family, his
voice was as strong and clear as it had ever been. After this his
breathing became difficult, and he could gasp only a single word now
and then. He seemed to have no wish to be occupied with this world. The
weary traveler had at last reached the goal; and about nine o'clock
Thursday night, January 6, 1887, his pure spirit left its frail
tenement to suffer no more.
The following account of his funeral, written by his devoted friend and
Christian brother, W. K. Azbill, may well close the biography of Frank
Gibbs Allen:
"IT IS FINISHED."
It is finished. The struggle with his fatal malady is over at last,
and F. G. Allen is at rest. He sank into a quiet sleep last
Thursday night, Jan. 6, 1887.
A few friends were notified of the end by telegrams, and that the
burial would take place from Mt. Byrd Church on Sunday, but the
condition of the Ohio River rendered it extremely difficult to
reach "Cottage Home." However, in spite of the difficulties and
dangers in crossing the river, and the extreme cold weather, there
were seven ministers and a very large audience present at the
burial. The people came over the snow and through the snow, in
sleighs and sleds and buggies, afoot and on horseback, till the
large country audience-room was well filled. The presence of such
an assembly on such a day evinced the truth of what is now widely
known, that Frank Allen was loved best where he has lived and
labored for the past sixteen years.
The services were begun by Bro. A. W. Kokendoffer, who lead in an
invocation of divine blessing and strength and guidance. The
congregation then sang "Nearer, My God, to Thee." The writer read
the following Scriptures; John xiv. 1-4, 27, 28; I. Cor. xv. 51-58;
I. Thess. iv. 13-18; II. Sam, iii. 31-39, repeating 38.
He felt that he should not, because he could not speak on the
occasion. He had followed the inclinations of his own grief, and
had come as a mourner and not as a comforter. We had not met to
tell how much we esteemed our departed brother, or how much we
loved him, or how much we should miss him, now that he has gone.
The gap is a wide one he has left in the family, in the
congregation of his love, and in the larger church; and it will
seem wider and wider as the days go by. We had come as his brothers
and sisters--as those who loved him--to lay him away in the grave,
and to ask God's help and blessing in this time of loss and sorrow.
He then led in worship, thanking God for His gift to the church of
the precious life that had just been surrendered at His call;
praising God for His love of brave and true men like him;
expressing the loving confidence of all that the heavenly Father
would deal tenderly with our widowed sister and her children;
asking especially that the little boy might live to honor the name
of his beloved father, and praying that the dear church, that has
borne him on their hearts through all this anxious time of weakness
and suffering, might forever be blessed by the memory of his godly
life in it.
The song, "Asleep in Jesus," was then sung, after which President
R. Graham, of the College of the Bible, addressed the audience on
the life and character of the deceased.
He had thought of how truly it might be said of him, that "There is
a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel." He had felt
inclined to derive comfort for the church, and to those to whom he
was doubly dear, from the passage in the Apocalypse, "I heard a
voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which
die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they
may rest from their labors: and their works do follow them." He did
not know whether others would be present to take part in the
services. But Bro. Kurfees was here from the churches in
Louisville, and, as a representative of the _Guide_, Bro.
McDiarmid, from Cincinnati, to represent his associates in our
other publishing interests, and Bro. Azbill, from Indianapolis,
connected with our missionary interests, while he himself brought
the sympathies of those in the College of the Bible. He felt there
was a suitableness in all this, for all these things were dear to
the heart of our brother.
He then proceeded to give a sketch of his life and career. There
were several distinct periods in his history. The first was from
his birth, March 7, 1836, to his marriage in 1856, a period of
about twenty years. Here he spoke of his early struggles for an
education, and of the signs of a useful life manifested even then.
The second, from the time of his marriage till his entry upon
general evangelistic work, about 1866. During this decade he became
a Christian, resolved to preach the gospel, and entered and passed
through a course of collegiate studies in Eminence College. The
third period began with his evangelistic labors. During this time
he became a pastor of the Mt. Byrd church. During this period most
of his public discussions were held. It was through these labors
that he was revealed to his brethren as a man who was greater than
we knew.
The last period began with his editorial career, and closed with
his death. He became first a contributing editor of _The Apostolic
Times_, and afterwards co-editor. Then he became the proprietor and
editor of _The Old-Path Guide_, which, in the course of events, was
consolidated with the _Times_, and became _The Apostolic Guide_.
President Graham then spoke of his character and his characteristic
abilities. He was a sincere man, he was a conscientious man, he was
a brave, true man; he was a pure-minded man, he was a godly man.
His ability was not that of the great scholar, but of the logician
of keen, accurate perceptions. He was not an encyclopedia, but a
compact volume of naked logic. He was capable of the very nicest
discriminations; and he had the faculty of pointing out a fallacy
with marvelous clearness, and of turning an objection to his
position into an argument in its favor.
He was sometimes misunderstood; but he was always true to his
convictions, and there was no honorable thing he would not do for
the truth's sake. He believed in the gospel as the power of God
unto salvation; and he made no compromises with doctrines in
conflict with his conviction that the gospel must be believed and
obeyed by those who would be saved.
The speaker said many tender and fatherly things to the bereaved
family and to the church, one of which was that we who knew of our
brother's sufferings, could have had but the one motive of
selfishness for detaining him an hour longer than he lingered with
us.
Bro. M. C. Kurfees followed the remarks of President Graham with
some comforting reflections on Bro. Allen's views of death and of
the future life. He spoke of his willingness "to depart and to be
with Christ, which is far better." Heaven is not a far off place,
but an actual spiritual presence with God. He spoke of the
blessedness of being always ready for this change from our life in
the body to our life with God in the invisible world.
Bro. McDiarmid closed the services with suitable remarks and an
earnest prayer. After the singing of the song, "Jesus, Lover of my
Soul," came the final leave-taking, and the departure from the
church to the grave. Not the least touching of these scenes was the
breaking down in grief of the sturdy yeomen of the congregation as
they stood around the bier of their dear brother and former pastor,
and looked on that manly face and form for the last time.
Finally we laid him to rest in the burying-place near by. At the
grave the closing prayer was offered by Bro. Wm. Buchanan, who
referred tenderly to his aged mother and absent relatives. And thus
the final scenes closed.
His resting-place is a lovely spot, overlooking the city of
Madison, commanding an extended view of the river valley, and in
sight of the stream and of all the vessels that go by. It is near
to his "Cottage Home" and to the church he so much loved; and the
spot will be all the dearer now that he sleeps in it.
Only four days ago the writer said in a letter to the family: "I
linger on the eve of taking a long voyage, and he may soon go on a
very short one; but which of these shall be made the occasion of
saying 'good-bye,' I hardly know." Even then the solitary voyager
was on his way. The breakers dashed about him as he launched; the
great billows roared beneath and around him as he went out; the
waves broke over each other in ripples as he passed on; and the
ripples hushed into whispers as he neared the other shore. At last
he took the adorable divine Guide by the hand, and passed beyond
our view.
PART II.--ADDRESSES.
I.--CULTURE AND CHRISTIANITY: THEIR RELATION AND NECESSITY.
[An Address Delivered Before Eminence College, June 8, 1877.]
There are periods in our history which form the oases in the desert of
life. In one of these our spirits are to-day refreshed. Its dark shade
and cooling fountain strengthen us for the onward pilgrimage. From its
green sward we pluck bright flowers, whose fragrance will linger with
us till the end of life's journey. From these let us to-day weave fresh
garlands, which shall ever exhale the sweetness of these associations.
This is ever a proud day for Eminence College. Annually on these
festive occasions do the hearts of the many thousands who have gone out
from these classic halls turn to them again with longing. Memory,
unfettered by space, walks again amid these lovely bowers and responds
unconsciously to the greetings of other days. Though separated far, and
mingling in the busy scenes of life, how their souls revel in these
delights! These college associations are the golden links which bind
many hearts in an unbroken chain. The chords so exquisitely touched in
our hearts to-day will vibrate for an age. Ere these sweet strains die
away on the distant air they will be caught up by responsive hearts and
reëchoed round the earth. These are times in our college life that must
ever be linked with the future. Memory will ever delight to lift the
heavy curtain of material life, and behold again these visions of
beauty, and paint in fancy these rose tints of youth. Then let this day
be one whose brightness shall shed a ray of celestial light along the
path of life. Let our spirits bathe in the fountain of living waters,
while the chords of our hearts are swept with entrancing melodies.
"Then th' inexpressive strain
Diffuses its enchantment. Fancy dreams
Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves,
And vales of bliss; the intellectual power
Bends from his awful throne a wandering ear,
And smiles."
As a theme worthy of your consideration to-day, I have selected
"_Culture and Christianity: Their Relation and Necessity_."
The Greek word for man, [Greek: anthropos], signifies etymologically to
_look upward_. Man is the only terrestrial being capable of looking
inward and upward. In this there lies between him and the animal
creation an impassable gulf. Man alone can look into his inner nature,
and thereby make his very failures the stepping-stones to a higher
life. God designed that man's progress should be upward; hence his high
destiny is attained, not by creation, but by development. The ladder at
whose foot he begins his immortal career rests upon the eternal throne.
This is not a development _into_ man, but a development _of_ man. The
theory of development into man is of the flesh; but the development of
man is of the spirit. Since man is destined for eternity, it is not
befitting that he should attain perfection in time. Hence he does not
develop as the beast of the field, or the fowl of the air. They soon
learn all that they ever know. They soon enjoy all they are capable of
enjoying. They soon attain to the perfection of their being, and
fulfill the end of their creation. The swallow builds her nest and the
beaver his dam precisely as they did in the days before the flood. Nor
can it ever be otherwise. But it is not so with man. This life is too
short and this world too small for his development. He but begins to
live in this world. This life is simply a state of probation. Our
faculties but begin to unfold on the things of time when we are called
hence. This unfolding of our faculties, this development of our inner
self, is the result of culture--a culture not of the flesh, but of the
spirit; not of the outer, but of the inner man.
Culture and Christianity, properly considered, are inseparable. He who
relies on culture apart from Christianity misconceives the end of his
being. He appreciates not his high destiny. Animals have minds
susceptible of a high degree of cultivation, but not of a culture which
reaches beyond time. Their culture is wholly a thing of this life; but
not more so than is the culture of men unsanctified by the religion of
Christ. A culture that terminates with death is in harmony with the
nature of a horse, but contrary to the nature of a man. What is
culture? This is a question on whose solution man's eternal destiny is
largely suspended. Our age prides itself on being an age of culture;
but do we know in what true culture really consists? As a whole, I
think not. A smattering of sentimental literature, a superficial
refinement of manners, a few borrowed phrases and appropriated customs
of "society," the rendering of a few pieces by rote, and fashionable
dress, constitute with, alas! too many the standard of culture. How
unworthy of their race are those who entertain the thought! All this
may be but the gilding of barbarism; beneath this external glitter
there may be a heart and character steeped in moral rudeness and
degradation.
True culture consists not in the cultivation of outward accomplishments.
It consists not in intellectual acquirements. It consists in the
development of the triune man--body, soul and spirit--in their divine
harmony. Without a cultivation of the spirit in harmony with its
immortal destiny, all that this world calls culture is but the gilded
tinsel that bedecks the putrefaction of death. The truly cultured man
is developed in harmony with the laws of his being. This being is
compound, having a fleshly and a spiritual side. Hence, to cultivate
one to the neglect of the other is to disproportion him whom God
created in His own image. As we exist first in time and next in
eternity, that culture which loses sight of either state misconceives
the full mission of man. Man's conception of his present mission and
ultimate destiny determines his standard of culture. He must have an
ideal, and if that ideal be low, his life will be correspondingly low.
Nothing but Christianity can furnish man an ideal worthy of himself;
and nothing but Christian culture can develop him in the direction of
that ideal.
Classical antiquity never conceived a destiny worthy of man. It never
contemplated him in that relation of Christ-likeness to his God, which
the Bible reveals. Even Aristotle, the most cultivated of all heathen
philosophers, thought that only a part of mankind possessed a rational
soul. With such a conception man is incapable of the highest culture.
It is degrading to his dignity. All culture based on such a hypothesis
must be a culture of the flesh, and not of the spirit. It is the
culture of materialism, not of Christianity. Between modern materialism
and the cultivated heathenism of the ancient Greeks the difference is
not worth the naming. "To assume the existence of a soul," says Vogt,
"which uses the brain as an instrument with which to work as it
pleases, is utter nonsense. Physiology distinctly and categorically
pronounces against any individual immortality, and against all ideas
which are connected with a figment of a separate existence of the
soul." "Man," says Moleschott, "is produced from wind and ashes. The
action of vegetable life called him into existence.... Thought consists
in the motion of matter, it is a translocation of the cerebral
substance; without phosphorus there can be no thought; and consciousness
itself is nothing but an attribute of matter." This deification of the
flesh, this "gospel of dirt," makes man consist simply of what he eats.
The missionaries of this heathen gospel have no need to address the
reason of men; only feed them on the right kind of food and their
regeneration is accomplished! Materialism is a religion of the flesh, a
deification of matter; its laver of regeneration is the chemist's
retort; its new birth, phosphorus! Give the brain plenty of phosphorus
by high living, and you develop the _soul_ of materialism! Yet the
heralds of this soulless gospel talk flippantly about culture!
Man's fall was due to an attempt to acquire knowledge at the expense of
heart culture. Here, amid the bowers of "paradise lost" is found the
root of all false culture, and from that root the world has ever been
filled with a noxious growth. True culture consists in a correction of
the process which
"Brought death into the world,
And all our woe."
Man in his spiritual nature must be educated back to the divine image
from which he fell. No culture comprehending less than this has ever
proved a permanent blessing to the race. The highest culture hitherto
attained apart from Christianity was incapable of saving its devotees
from ruin. Greece and Rome were never more cultured, in a popular
sense, than when they began to go down in death. Materialistic culture
was their winding-sheet, and "A Religion of the Flesh" should be their
epitaph. As Christlieb has truly said: "Wherever civilization is not
made to rest on the basis of moral and religious truth it can not
attain to any permanent existence, and is incapable of preserving the
nations possessed of it from spiritual starvation, to say nothing of
political death."
It is idle to boast of Liberty when the foundations of her temples are
not laid in divine truth. Of this, Greece and Rome have furnished the
world examples. In Greece freedom had a field peculiarly her own; she
breathed her inspiration into the people, and her spirit into their
literature; she lived in the deeds of their youth, and was sung by the
muse of their bards. This spirit was diffused in Rome. Plato, Aristotle
and Homer were transplanted to the Rhine, the Seine, and the Thames.
Their land was full of liberty and culture, but not the liberty nor the
culture of the soul. When we learn from Tacitus that "in the first
century, in a time of famine, all the teachers of youth were banished
from the city, and six thousand dancers were retained," we have an
example of that culture which made Rome a sink of iniquity. It is not
impossible that the fatal mistake of Greece and Rome should be repeated
in our own country. We are venturing to some extent on the slippery
places from which they fell. The evil star of their national ruin is
that on which the eyes of many of our political leaders are fixed. The
godless spirit that animated the Roman senate is being nursed into new
life in American politics, and this nursing is not simply in the halls
of legislation, but in the homes of the people. Here lies the trouble.
If the American republic ever goes down in ruin, the power that hurls
it from its high position will be enthroned in the family circle.
We complain that those in authority have not the fear of God before
their eyes. We lift our hands in holy horror at the public corruption
which brings our nation into dishonor before the world. But who is to
blame? One political party is ever ready to ascribe all the corruption
of the country to its political rival. But this godless disregard of
national honor and national interest is confined to no party. Neither
is it confined to party leaders; but it controls the people on whom the
leaders rely for support. Here is the seat of the disease which is
gnawing at the vitals of the republic. The man who now refuses to cater
to the depraved tastes of the masses, can not, as a rule, be promoted
to office. How many men can sit in the halls of legislation, or even on
our benches of justice, who persistently refuse to influence men's
votes by money, or inflame their passions and sway their judgment with
strong drink? When a man of a high sense of moral honor seeks promotion
by the suffrage of his fellow-citizens, he soon learns that he must
come down from his "stilted dignity" or be defeated. In the excitement
of the canvass he yields to base motives to prevent defeat. He
compromises his high sense of honor, deadens his conscience, and sells
out his manhood to secure an honorable (?) position. We should not
expect men to manifest a high sense of honor in public places as long
as we require them to compromise their honor in order to secure such
places. The thing is both unreasonable and unjust. As well expect sweet
water to flow from a fountain which we have made bitter!
Party spirit is hostile to moral purity. As one becomes filled with the
spirit of party, to that extent does he surrender the freedom of a man.
He can neither think nor speak impartially. He stifles the convictions
of conscience and shouts the shibboleth of party. With him the triumph
of party is infinitely dearer than the maintenance of principle. Hence
the conflict becomes a struggle, not for principle, but for victory.
The people are distracted and the nation brought to the verge of ruin
over the most trivial matters. The Eastern empire was once shaken to
its foundation by parties which differed only about the merits of
charioteers at the amphitheater.
This ruinous party spirit is fostered by ignorance. The masses who are
controlled at the ballot-box by the basest influences, because they
will not be controlled by any other; and who in turn control the
ballots of our country, are, as a rule, the uncultured part of society.
The better class of citizens are not approached with the influences
which control the ignorant. Therefore, the remedy is in the _correct_
education of the masses. The emphasis is correctly made; for any kind
of education will not accomplish this end. Only as people are _truly_
cultured do they cease to be tools of politicians. Then their
intelligence, not their passions, must be addressed. When the masses
are thus cultured they will refine instead of demoralize our public
men.
As a remedy, then, for the demoralization of all classes we need a
better system of education. We must have a free education if we would
have a free people. Our children must be educated in just principles,
if we would perpetuate a just government. To make this remedy
effectual, when the means of education are provided for the ignorant,
they should be required to appropriate them, or forfeit their right of
suffrage. No man should have a voice in determining the destiny of our
nation, who rejects the means of that culture which alone can qualify
him to act intelligently. A man who has not spirit enough to avail
himself of the benefits of an elementary education, when placed within
his reach, is not worthy of being a citizen of a free government.
Not only must the ballot-box be elevated by culture, if this government
would number its centennials, but it must be purified by Christianity.
We need to erect a high standard of moral qualification for positions
of trust and honor. Those in authority will ever be about what the
people require of them. When ungodliness and moral corruption are at a
discount among the people, and party spirit can not atone for the
darkest crimes, then may we expect more purity in high places; not
before. This standard must be erected at the ballot-box or our
liberties will find an untimely grave.
This government was established on a false idea--the idea that man is
capable of self-government. God never intended that man should govern
himself. Consequently, in the strictest sense of the word, he is
incapable, both individually and collectively, of self-government.
Since, by his own wisdom, man is incapable of governing himself he is
likewise incapable of governing others. The men and the nations, in the
ages of the past, that attempted this, failed of the high destiny for
which God gave them being. The ultimate prosperity of men and nations
depends on the government of God. Only He who created man fully
understands his ultimate destiny and the laws of his being to attain to
that end. Therefore, only when man is thus governed is his life a
success. All sacred history shows that God rules in the governments of
men; and only when this fact is practically acknowledged may nations
expect permanent prosperity. That nation whose laws are framed and
executed regardless of the law of God will eventually fall under the
divine chastisement. No more can the statesmanship of this world,
unsanctified by divine wisdom, save a nation from the wrath of God,
than the wisdom of man can save a soul from eternal death, regardless
of Him, "who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption." For the disregard of God's will,
nations are punished here, because as nations they do not exist
hereafter. On this the Lord has clearly spoken: "At what instant I
shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up,
and to pull down, and to destroy it: If that nation against whom I have
pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I
thought to do unto them. And at what instant I shall speak concerning a
nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it: If it do
evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the
good, wherewith I said I would benefit them." Thus it is that nations
are in the hands of God as clay in the hands of the potter. Only,
therefore, when they purge themselves from ungodly legislation, will
they become "vessels unto honor, sanctified and meet for the Master's
use."
The voice of God, then, must be heard and heeded in our nation, and if
the people rule, and the nation prosper, the voice of God must become
the voice of the people. _In this sense, and this only, are any people
capable of self-government._ To this end we need more extended culture,
and that of a higher order. Our politics must be purified by our
religion, and our religion must be a religion of the spirit, not of the
flesh. We need more religion in our politics, and less politics in our
religion. The history of other nations fully confirms the language of
Goethe: "All epochs," says he, "in which faith prevailed have been the
most heart-stirring and fruitful, both as regards contemporaries and
posterity; whereas, on the other hand, all epochs in which unbelief
obtains its miserable triumphs, even when they boast of some apparent
brilliancy, are not less surely doomed to speedy oblivion." Liberty is
the twin sister of Faith. In the language of Seneca: "To obey God is
freedom. A nation that desires to be free must believe, and a nation
that will not believe must be in servitude; only despotism can dispense
with faith, but not liberty."
History clearly proves that national prosperity depends on an
appreciation of the intimate relation existing between culture and
Christianity. Of this relation Christlieb truly speaks: "No one,
indeed," says he, "will wish to deny that in our modern culture there
is much that is false, egotistic, and selfish; much that is misleading
and exaggerated, and consequently opposed to true culture. Against
these untrue elements of culture, Christianity will and must always
take the field; it must not oppose progress, although it is at all
times bound to show itself hostile to the _sins_ of progress, just as
from its very commencement it has always testified and striven against
such sins. Between Christless culture and Christianity a bridge of
accommodation can no more be built than between light and darkness, and
woe to him who undertakes this! But whatever in our modern culture is
thoroughly _Christless_, and therefore Godless, is unworthy of the
name and can, therefore, claim from us no further consideration; it is
mere naked rudeness and selfishness, ill-disguised by the gaudy rays of
outward decency; a mere cherishing of the sensual nature which, left to
itself, would soon degenerate into monstrous barbarism, of which we
already see many indications."
Intellectual, at the expense of moral, culture is one of the curses of
this age. By such culture man acquires power without the principles
which alone can make that power a blessing. Intellect is deified; but
intellect unsubdued by Christianity is a remorseless god. True culture
would lift man above this low conception of his own nature. It would
give him a more comprehensive view of himself; of the infinite
development of which he is susceptible; of the rulings of an all-wise
Providence, whose loving care
"From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression."
True culture consists not in an accumulation of facts or ideas, but in
developing a force of thought that is ever a ready and willing servant.
To educate is to lead out and develop the faculties, not to break them
down with the endless rubbish of other minds. The collection of facts
amounts to but little unless with those facts we build towers from
which to take higher and wider views of truth. Thus it is that culture
demands them as a means, not as an end. To build up the mental and
moral faculties, so as to comprehend and appreciate the great
principles which control the life that now is, and that which is to
come, is the highest culture in our probationary state. This can be
accomplished only by an education in which the Bible and the _authority
of Christ_ are made paramount. On this, as we have seen, our free
institutions and the perpetuity of religious liberty depend. This is
the secret of Roman Catholic opposition to the Bible in our public
schools. And it is not simply the Bible in the public schools that Rome
opposes; she is opposed to the existence of the schools themselves; to
the system of free education. No people understand better than the
Catholics the power of religious teaching in connection with education.
Hence they are the foe to all religion in connection with education
that is not Catholic. Rome is the friend of education and religion when
that education is priestly and that religion Romish; otherwise she is
the enemy of both. Hence those who support Catholic schools foster the
deadliest foe of our religious liberties. There will ever be,
therefore, an irrepressible conflict between Roman Catholicism and
Christian culture. Let him who doubts this study impartially the
history of Catholic countries. We ask no more.
The idea is fast passing away, and it can not pass too rapidly, that
the mass of the people need no other culture than that which fits them
for their various vocations. The world is beginning to learn that
culture is due to our _nature_, not to our _calling_. It is not the
calling nor the place of residence that makes the man. It is what a man
_is_, not what he does, that makes him great. True greatness is in the
man, not in circumstances. True greatness and worldly fame are two
widely different things. The greatest men of earth may be but little
known. As force of thought measures intellectual, so force of principle
measures moral, greatness. There is more true greatness in the huts of
poverty than in the palaces of kings, only it is undeveloped. Here,
therefore, is where we need true Christian culture. I can not better
express my appreciation of obscure greatness, which culture should
develop, than by repeating the words of Dr. Channing: "The greatest
man," says he, "is he who chooses the right with invincible resolution,
who resists the sorest temptation from within and without, who bears
the heaviest burdens cheerfully, who is calmest in storms and most
fearless under menace and frowns, whose reliance on truth, on virtue,
on God, is most unfaltering; and is this a greatness which is apt to
make a show, or which is most likely to abound in conspicuous stations?
The solemn conflicts of reason with passion; the victories of moral and
religious principles over urgent and almost irresistible solicitations
to self-indulgence; the hardest sacrifices of duty, those of
deep-seated affection and of the heart's fondest hopes; the
consolations, hopes, joys, and peace, of disappointed, persecuted,
scorned, deserted virtue; these are of course unseen, so that the true
greatness of human life is almost wholly out of sight. Perhaps in our
presence the most heroic deed on earth is done in some silent spirit,
the loftiest purpose cherished, the most generous sacrifices made, and
we do not suspect it. I believe this greatness to be most common among
the multitude, whose names are never heard." Most beautifully has the
poet expressed the same fine thought:
"Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
These pure gems need to be discovered and polished, and these sweet
flowers cultivated and utilized by Christian culture. It is idle to
talk of developing these hidden resources of intellectual and moral
wealth but by true culture, and this can never exist apart from
Christianity. Christianity is the spiritual power that vitalizes the
culture of our age. So evident is this that even a Fichte was compelled
to confess that, "We and our whole age are rooted in the soil of
Christianity, and have sprung from it; it has exercised its influence
in the most manifold ways on the whole of our culture, and we should be
absolutely nothing of all that we are, if this mighty principle had not
preceded us." Culture and Christianity can not now be divorced. Those
who would array culture against Christianity are themselves under the
influence of that which they oppose. The very imagined imperfections of
Christianity must be discovered by the light of Christianity, "just as
he who seeks to discover spots in the sun, must for this purpose borrow
the light of the sun itself." Culture and Christianity are so
interwoven that we may never expect either, separate from the other, as
a blessing to the world. The very fact that the Protestant nations of
the earth, where God is honored by a free Bible, are the chief
exponents of true culture, attests this connection. So vital is this
relation that, "United they stand; divided they fall."
Another important end to be attained in the culture of the masses is
independence of thought. We need to cast off the yoke of human opinion
and cultivate the individual judgment. We are too much the slaves of
fashion. We are disposed to dress our minds as well as our bodies,
after the fashion of the times. This destroys originality and
independence of thought, and renders our lives tame and insipid. We
need connection with other minds to excite our own, not to enslave
them. We want the thoughts of others that we may think; and without
correct modes of thinking, all efforts at education and culture are
failures.
But it may be argued, the masses are denied the privilege of
association with the cultivated. This is not true. They may deprive
themselves, but they are not denied. This is peculiarly an age of
printing. The best of literature may now find its way into the most
humble homes. There is not a roof in the land under which the prophets
and apostles of God will not enter with the glad message containing the
promise of the life that is and that which is to come; not one under
which the poets will not come to sing to us of that far-off land; not
one too holy for the habitation of the great minds of earth which
inspire us
"With thoughts that breathe,
And words that burn."
With these for our companions, we may have the best society that this
world affords, and, by such association, fit ourselves for the
companionship of the cultivated.
Is it argued that the poor have not time for self-culture? This is one
of the greatest mistakes of life. It is not _time_ that we want; it is
_inclination_. Generally, those who have most time profit by it least.
An earnest purpose will either find time or make time. Nor is it
necessary that much time should be taken. The spare moments, the mere
fragments of time, often worse than wasted, will, if carefully
improved, make both mind and heart a store-house of the most precious
treasure. It is said that Spurgeon read the whole of Macaulay's History
of England between the courses at dinner. I would not advise that these
golden opportunities for social culture be devoted to reading; but the
circumstance shows how much may be accomplished by gathering up the
crumbs which fall from the table of time. When Martin Luther was asked
how, amid all his other labors, he found time to translate the Holy
Scriptures, he replied, "One verse a day." A small amount of daily
reading, of the right kind, will furnish food for thought; and it is
thought, after all, that enriches the soul.
A proper improvement of the most slender opportunities for self-culture
creates new capacities for enjoyment, and saves the leisure moments
from being dull and wearisome. More than this; it saves them from being
devoted to ruinous indulgence. The soul-culture for which these
fragments of time provide, lifts humanity above mere brutal enjoyments,
and implants pleasures worthy of their race. Christian culture is
essential to the subduing of sensuality, and the subduing of sensuality
is essential to the permanent prosperity of both individuals and
nations.
But, it may be said, any considerable degree of culture will lift the
masses above their vocations, and cause them to become dissatisfied
with their lot; that the cultured mind despises drudgery. The very
reverse of this is true. Culture dignifies labor and destroys drudgery.
The man determines the dignity of the calling; not the calling the
dignity of the man. Let men of culture carry their culture into their
vocations, and their vocations will become honorable. Let cultured men
plow and reap, and plowing and reaping will become as dignified as the
"learned professions." Because a man can not wear as fine a garb at the
forge as he can at the desk, it does not follow that his thoughts may
not be as fine. A man may wear a polished intellect and a cultivated
soul under a coarse garb as well as under a fine one; and he should be
respected the more, if circumstances have compelled him to develop his
intellectual and moral forces; if at all, under a rough exterior.
While in these thoughts I have spoken of men, I have used the term
generically. The principles apply with equal force to the women of this
country. One of the great evils of our land is, that among the ladies,
domestic labor is not sufficiently dignified. The number of mothers in
the ordinary walks of life, silly enough to think that ignorance of
domestic duties is an accomplishment for their daughters, is by no
means small. This results from a want of true culture and common sense.
There is no just reason why a young lady should not knead her dough and
conjugate a Greek verb at the same time with equal skill. True culture
will dignify domestic labor among women of all classes, and this will
result in more domestic prosperity, and more domestic happiness. The
rich and the poor will be brought into closer sympathy, unnecessary
distinctions will be broken down, and the people will become one in the
essential elements of good government and pure religion.
Young ladies, you above all others should appreciate the blending of
culture and Christianity. One glance at the history of the world must
convince you that the highest culture, unsanctified by Christianity,
has never elevated your sex above disgraceful servitude. Certainly you
can not entertain the thought, that the culture which does not elevate
woman can ever bless the world. Only Christianity has exalted the
gentler sex to that position in the esteem and affections of men that
God designed she should occupy. Hence, of all the friends of ancient
Christianity, woman should be the truest and most lasting; and of all
the enemies of modern Rationalism, she should be the most bitter and
unrelenting.
In conclusion, allow me to repeat the thought of the beginning, that it
is the nature of man to _look upward_, and he who does not look upward
is untrue to his nature. But in the flesh, we can only begin to ascend
the heights of God. Here we are weighed down with infirmity, with our
frail, decaying bodies; but our souls long for the power of incessant,
never-wearying, glorious activity, awaiting us in the upper world. One
of my highest conceptions of Heaven; one that thrills me to
contemplate, is a life of no more prostration from labor; no more
weariness of over-wrought brain; no aching head nor pain-racked body;
but incessant labor, unincumbered by frail mortality; growth,
development, expanding visions of God, among pure intelligences, and
amid the celestial splendor of eternal worlds. But in the flesh, I can
not bathe in those fountains of celestial light. Then let me leave this
frail tenement of clay, as one steps out of the vehicle that can take
him no farther, and leaving it behind, ascends the lofty mountain to
gaze upon the unfolding wonders of God. Let my liberated spirit not
only look upward, but mount upward, as on eagles' wings, till rising
above the Pleiades, and leaving the Milky-way to fade out in the
receding distance, it walks with God on the ever-ascending plain,
reached only by culture and Christianity.
II.--SELF CULTURE.
[An Address Delivered Before Columbia Christian College, June 7, 1878.]
_Ladies and Gentlemen:_--I am happy in the privilege of again
addressing you in the interests of the great work in which you are so
nobly engaged. To-day many of you go out from under the fostering care
of this institution, to engage in the ceaseless battle of life. That
you have been well panoplied for the conflict is not questioned. And,
if I can second, in some degree, the efforts of your faithful and
worthy Faculty in directing and encouraging you to that success that
should crown their efforts and yours, I shall feel that I have labored
to no trifling purpose. The theme selected for your consideration is
"_Self-Culture_."
Man, though fallen, is in his ruins grand. His powers of development
are little less than infinite. They begin with the cradle, but do not
end with the grave. No other being begins so low and ascends so high.
In his beginning, he is "crushed before the moth;" in the fullness of
his power he shall "judge angels." In this world he scarcely begins to
live. This life is too short and this world too small for the
development of his God-given faculties. Here he scarcely learns the
alphabet preparatory to God's grand university from which he is never
to graduate. He simply begins the study of an unending book. He but
gathers a few pebbles on the shores of the river of time, then sinks
beneath its wave.
But while in this world we scarcely make a beginning, yet everything
depends on the character of that beginning. As is the beginning, so
will be the conclusion. In the direction taken in time will we progress
in eternity. We may repent of our mistakes here and correct them, but
there is no repentance beyond the grave. There are no mistakes
corrected in eternity. Hence the necessity of a proper use of time.
I have selected the word culture to express the idea which I wish to
convey, and yet I must confess that it does not express it as happily
as I should desire. Where the Greeks had their _paideia_, the Romans
their _humanitas_, we have the more elastic and accommodating word
culture. I use it in this address in the sense of drawing out and
developing the nobler powers that are potentially in fallen humanity.
It is not so much the development of all the faculties in man to their
highest extent, as the directing and training of the better ones to
their true end. We are dealing here with beginnings, not endings. The
perfection of man in all his capacities is not a thing of time. In
time, the character must receive its mold; in eternity, its highest
polish.
By self-culture I mean, of course, the power that one has, and ought to
use, of cultivating himself. "To cultivate anything," says Dr.
Channing, "be it a plant, an animal, a mind, is to make grow. Growth,
expansion is the end. Nothing admits culture but that which has a
principle of life, capable of being expanded. He, therefore, who does
what he can to unfold all his powers and capacities, especially his
nobler ones, so as to become a well proportioned, vigorous, happy
being, practices self-culture." This may apply to those who have not
the advantages of schools and colleges, and to the after education of
those who have.
We hear much in this age about a "finished education at college." There
is, alas! too much truth in the expression. Generally, the more
superficial our collegiate education, the more completely is it
"finished" on the day of graduation. How few young ladies and gentlemen
meet the expectations raised by their educational advantages! How few
years sadden loving hearts with disappointed hopes! How many stars
shine brilliantly within college walls, then go out to be seen no more!
And all this the result of a "finished education!"
Most of these failures are the result of wrong views of education. Our
school days are but a beginning of our earthly education, as this is
but the beginning of that which is to come. It is not what we learn in
school, but what we learn after leaving it, that determines our success
or failure. These advantages are but for the purpose of laying the
foundation; the building is the work of after years. And he who does
not build, does not even preserve the foundation. Alas! how many
well-laid foundations have moldered into ruin! No sooner does the plant
cease to grow than it begins to decay. Therefore, he who would live
must grow, and he who would grow must be active. There is no success to
him who stands with his hands in his pockets. This is an age of intense
activity. Competition in every calling is sharp; the professions are
crowded, and there is room only at the top. Therefore, the path to
success is not strewed with flowers and tinted with the rainbow's hue.
As Carlyle truly says: "The race of life has become intense; the
runners are treading upon each other's heels, woe be to him who stops
to tie his shoestrings."
Many a young man fails because he thinks himself a genius, and
therefore does not need to study. The sooner you get rid of the idea
that you are a genius the better. The old idea of a genius that never
has to study is the pet of laziness and the ruin of manliness. Sidney
Smith truly says: "There is but one method of attaining to excellence,
and that is hard labor; and a man who will not pay that price for
distinction had better at once dedicate himself to the pursuit of the
fox, or sport with the tangles of Neæra's hair, or talk of bullocks and
glory in the goad! There are many modes of being frivolous, and not a
few of being useful; there is but one mode of being intellectually
great."
It is common for those who have not the wealth to afford them a
luxurious college course to bemoan their misfortune and content
themselves with being nothing. If culture were attained by complaining
of misfortune, many would soon reach perfection. To some, extreme
poverty is doubtless a misfortune, but to many others it is a blessing.
The world's grandest heroes and benefactors have struggled with
poverty; and, but for this, they would have died unwept and unhonored.
The great men and women of earth were not dandled in the lap of luxury.
Lord Thurlow, Chancellor of England, when asked by a wealthy friend
what course his son should pursue to secure success at the bar, is said
to have thus replied: "Let your son spend his fortune, marry and spend
his wife's, and then go to the bar; there will be little fear of his
failure." The Chancellor well knew that, with his wealth, the young man
would not do the work that success demanded. How many men, and women,
too, were never anything till they lost their fortune! Then the world
felt their power. What a fortune, then, to have no fortune to lose!
True, poverty brings difficulties, but difficulties develop men. They
show the material out of which one is composed. While they dishearten
the irresolute, they stimulate the brave. The wind that extinguishes
the taper only intensifies the heat of the stronger flame. Gnats are
blown with the wind, but kites rise only against it.
All culture is, in a large degree, self-culture. Our teachers are only
helps. They can teach us, but they can not learn us. We must do our own
learning. Wealth can not buy it, nor luxurious surroundings impart it;
it must be made ours by personal application.
I am not contending that all may or should be scholars in the proper
sense of that word. There is a difference between culture and
scholarship. A man of culture may or may not be a scholar. I plead more
especially for the training of the mind, for the development of the
nobler faculties of our nature, that we may fulfill the true end of our
being.
I do not mean that all should be great, in the popular acceptation of
that term. This is neither desirable nor possible. If all were great,
then none were great. But God has designed us all for positions of
usefulness and happiness; some in one direction, some in another. These
positions we should seek and fill to the full extent of our ability.
And it is with reference to this ability that I am making the plea for
self-culture. It is not simply preparation for a position, but
development in it, for which I plead. There is much said in this age
about education for a position, and this education is all right; the
more thorough the better. But the trouble is, too many seem to think
that this is all. Here is the ruinous mistake. There is a world of
difference between being educated _for_ a calling, and being educated
_in_ it. That may be obtained in schools and colleges; this is a
work of subsequent life. That is important; this is indispensable.
Without that, this may be a grand success; without this, that is next
to worthless. Many men are highly educated in their calling who were
never educated for it. This is self-culture in its true sense.
Nor is the culture for which I plead derived simply from books. These
we need, but we need them simply as helps. We should make them our
servants, not our masters. A "bookworm" is sometimes a very inferior
kind of a worm. Some men that the schools call highly educated rely so
much on books that they are nothing in themselves. They have no mind of
their own. They deal altogether in second-hand goods. We need to lay
aside our books, and study men and things--commence with God and
nature. We must learn to _think_. To think much. To think accurately.
To do our own thinking, not have it done for us. Without this, we shall
make but little of our advantages; with it, we rise superior to
advantages.
Neither am I contending that we should all strive for the "learned
professions." It is just the reverse. We want to elevate and ennoble
the _un_learned professions. The American people, at least, should
learn that the calling does not make the man. We need to dignify all
the honest and legitimate vocations by intellectual and moral culture.
We not only need to dignify labor by culture, but, by so doing, we need
to dignify the mass of our common humanity. Personal worth consists not
in what one does, but in what one is. Better be a good barber than a
poor doctor, a good shoemaker than a poor lawyer.
I would not be understood as claiming that men and women in all the
vocations in life should be cultured in all directions. In this age of
short and intense life this is not practicable. It might have done
before the flood, when men lived a thousand years, but it is not
adapted to the nineteenth century. Remember I am speaking with
reference to the masses. Men can not know everything, neither can they
do everything, and do it well. All knowledge may be made useful, and I
would urge the obtaining of all possible; but it is a mistake to try to
do too much, and do nothing. A few things well understood are of more
value than a smattering of much. By all means avoid being
"Jack-of-all-trades." Decide what you want to do and do it. I would
urge the training of mind and heart and hand as a specialty in that
which you select as a life work, embellished and perfected by all the
general knowledge that a life of intense application will enable you to
possess. Difference in occupation demands a difference in special
culture, but not in general. This is culture, not of the schools,
simply, but of life.
But the difficulties and the means of self-culture need now to be
considered. In doing this, the first essential element to success to
which your attention is called, is
SELF-RELIANCE.
No man ever amounted to much who did not rely on God and himself. The
young man who whines around, waiting for some one to help him, instead
of helping himself, ought to be sent back to the nursery, clothed in
enlarged baby-gowns, and fed with a spoon. Men of independence are the
men that move the world. The living rarely walk well in the shoes of
the dead, and he who waits for them ought to go barefooted all his
life. God helps those who help themselves. Self-reliance toughens our
sinews and develops our manhood. "It is not in the sheltered garden or
the hothouse, but on the rugged Alpine cliffs where the storm bursts
most violently, that the toughest plants are reared." The man who does
not rely on self, soon ceases to have any self. He becomes a zoological
parasite, instead of a man. He is a lobster that waits for the sea to
come to him, instead of going to it, though its waves may be dashing at
his feet. Should the sea accommodate him in time, well enough;
otherwise he dies. These men make the subjunctive heroes of the world.
They always "might," "could," "would" or "should" do some great thing;
but they never get into the imperative mood to do it. They have never
learned self-reliance; and, the result is, they never learned anything
worth knowing. They can never appreciate this saying of the immortal
Burke: "I was not rocked and swaddled and dandled into a legislator.
_Nitor in adversum_ is the motto for a man like me."
Those who are afraid to move without the arms of a rich ancestry around
them, will never learn to walk erect. They will never have a firm,
elastic step, nor make the world feel the weight of their tread. The
man who thus shrinks from difficulties and responsibilities, refuses to
be a pupil of the best teacher the world affords. They should learn
that repeated failure, if wisely used, is but a means to grand success.
As Dr. Mathews truly says: "Great statesmen in all countries have owed
their sagacity, tact and foresight more to their failures than to their
successes. The diplomatist becomes master of his art by being baffled,
thwarted, defeated, quite as much as by winning his points. Every time
he is checkmated he acquires a profounder knowledge of the political
game, and makes his next combination with increased skill and increased
chances of success." Ease and luxury may make the butterflies of
society, but difficulties make men and women. That was a wise saying of
Pythagoras, that, "ability and necessity dwell near each other." It is
astonishing how difficulties will yield to one who will not yield to
them. They tip their plumed caps to his dominant will, and politely bow
themselves out of sight. They not only clear the way for self-reliance,
but give him the encouragement of their parting salute.
"Every person," says Gibbon, "has two educations--one which he receives
from others, and one, more important, which he gives himself."
Archimedes said, "Give me a standing-place and I will move the world."
But Goethe more happily says, "Make good thy standing-place and move
the world." Circumstances may afford a standing-place, but
self-reliance alone can give the leverage power. We must learn that
character and worth consists in doing, not in possessing. Not resting,
not having, not being simply, but growing and becoming, is the true
character of self-culture. This thought is most beautifully expressed
by Rogers--
"Our reward
Is in the race we run, not in the prize,
Those few, to whom is given what they ne'er earned,
Having by favor or inheritance
The dangerous gifts placed in their hands,
Know not, nor ever can, the generous pride
That glows in him who on himself relies,
Entering the lists of life. He speeds beyond
Them all, and foremost in the race succeeds.
His joy is not that he has got his crown,
But that the power to win the crown is his."
Another important item in the attainment of self-culture is the
ECONOMY OF TIME.
Time is a divine inheritance that no man has a right to squander. The
antediluvians might have afforded to be a little profligate in this
direction, but the man who would fulfill his high destiny in this age
has no time to lose. Lost time is forever lost. There is much useless
complaint in the world of a want of time. It is not more time we need,
so much as a better use of that we have. I do not mean that we should
deprive ourselves of requisite sleep and rest. On the contrary, the
regulation of these constitutes a part of the economy of which I speak.
Rest is necessary; but all rest is not idleness. We should learn to
rest by changing our employment, not by its abandonment. The man whose
mind becomes weary in his study, finds the most invigorating rest in
manual labor. The physical and intellectual have a happy reflective
influence on each other. The moments wisely taken for intellectual and
moral culture by the laboring man are fountains whose refreshing
stream, like that from Horeb, follows him through his daily toil. They
are a ceaseless pleasure, both in remembrance and anticipation. Those,
also whose lives are disconnected with manual labor should have such a
variety of work that one kind prepares the way for the enjoyment of
another. There are both pleasure and health in a change of diet. To
happily manage this variety requires a training of the mind essential
to self-culture. We must learn to do the right thing at the right time.
The happy influence of one thing upon another depends on their
arrangement and the manner of their execution. It may not be well to
have too many irons in the fire, but it is certainly best to have
enough for some to be heating while others are cooling.
In order to do the right thing at the right time, and do it well, we
must learn to think about the right thing at the right time. This is
one of the most important features in mental training. We can think
well on but one thing at a time. Therefore, the mind that is filled
with various kinds of thoughts can prosecute none of them successfully.
We must learn to select the guests that we would have sit at our
intellectual banquets, summon or exclude them at will, and never permit
the intrusion of a promiscuous crowd. When our work is arranged for the
day, the week, the month, the year, we should set apart the time to be
devoted to each item, both in work and in thought; and then never allow
the thoughts of one to encroach upon the time allotted to another. We
should so train the mind that we can think about the thing only of
which we wish to think, concentrate our whole mind upon it till the
time comes to put it away; then dismiss it in a moment, turn to
something else, and think no more about it, till its proper time. The
mind is soon trained to pass from one subject to another in a moment,
with all its powers of concentration. This mastery of the mind, once
attained, will enable us to study at all times and places regardless of
circumstances. The man who can not study amid the wild shouts of the
excited multitude is not his own master. He who can command his time
and his talents only when no surging billows beat against his quiet
retreat, has necessarily to spend much of life in which he has neither
time nor talents which he can call his own. A very important item,
then, in the economy of time, is to learn to labor under difficulties,
till we rise superior to external surroundings. To keep the reins of
the mind well in hand when there is a stampede all around us, is
absolutely essential in the great crises of life. This is attained only
by training the mind to instantaneous concentration under all
circumstances. This, then, I would urge you to persist in until it is
accomplished. Without this you will lose much time in acquiring
information, and, what is of vastly more importance, you will be
unprepared to use what you have at the very time, it may be, when it is
most needed.
Another important element in the economy of time we learn from the
great Teacher who said, "Gather up the fragments, that nothing be
lost." If He who had the power to create as well as to preserve, was
such an economist of the remnants of loaves and fishes, how much more
should we save the fragments of time, which we can not lengthen out a
span?
Many people seem to think they can make garments only out of whole
cloth. If they have not an abundance of uninterrupted time in which to
accomplish a thing, they think they can not accomplish it at all. Such
men accomplish but little, not for want of time, but for want of its
economy. To avoid this waste, we must learn to weave whole garments out
of the mere ravelings of the fabric of time. But some complain that
they can not "get up steam" for intellectual labor in these fractions
of time. We don't need to "get up steam." The "steam" should be already
up. We only need to change the gearing. "There is a momentum in the
active man," says Mathews, "which of itself almost carries him to the
mark, just as a very light stroke will keep a hoop going, when a smart
one was required to set it in motion. While others are yawning and
stretching themselves to overcome the _vis inertiae_, he has his eyes
wide open, his faculties keyed up for action, and is thoroughly alive
in every fiber. He walks through the world with his hands unmuffled and
ready by his side, and so can sometimes do more by a single touch in
passing than a vacant man is likely to do by strenuous effort."
Let no one conclude that nothing important can be accomplished by these
scattered fragments. It is said that "Hugh Miller found time while
pursuing his trade as a stone-mason, not only to read but to write,
cultivating his style till he became one of the most facile and
brilliant authors of the day." Also, that Elihu Burritt "acquired a
mastery of eighteen languages and twenty-two dialects, not by rare
genius, which he disclaimed, but by improving the bits and fragments of
time which he could steal from his occupation as a blacksmith."
With these examples before us, then, let no one conclude that he can
not get time from his daily vocation, whatever it may be, to cultivate
his mind, and develop his moral and intellectual faculties. Another
essential element in self-culture is
SINGLENESS OF PURPOSE.
"A man," says Emerson, "is like a bit of Labrador spar, which has no
lustre as you turn it in your hand until you come to a particular
angle; then it shows deep and beautiful colors." There is no adaptation
or universal applicability in man; but each has his special talent; and
the mastery of successful men consists in adroitly keeping themselves
where and when that turn shall need oftenest to be practiced. The
successful man in every calling, whether literary, scientific or
business, is he who is _totus in illo_--who can say with Paul, this one
thing I do! With the exception of a few great creative minds, the men
whose names are historic are identified with some one achievement, upon
which all their life force is spent. "Whatever I have tried to do in my
life," says Dickens, "I have tried with all my heart to do well. What I
have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely. Never to
put one hand to a thing on which I would not throw my whole self, and
never to affect depreciation of my work, whatever it was, I find now to
have been golden rules." The fact is, the range of human knowledge has
become so extensive that the man who would know some things well must
have the courage to be ignorant of many others. There are many things
for which one is wholly incapacitated; for which he has no talent, and,
as a rule, time spent in this direction is time lost. Goethe justly
says: "We should guard against a talent which we can not hope to
practice in perfection. Improve it as we may, we shall always, in the
end, when the merit of the master has become apparent to us, painfully
lament the loss of time and strength devoted to such botching." Sidney
Smith condemns what he calls the "foppery of _universality_--of knowing
all sciences and excelling in all arts." "Now _my_ advice," he says,
"on the contrary, is to have the courage to be ignorant of a great
number of things, in order to avoid the calamity of being ignorant of
everything."
I do not mean that you should try to learn but one thing, or be a man
or woman of one idea; far from it. I simply mean that you must be
select. Select your calling, and then bend all your energies in that
direction. Let those branches of knowledge that bear most directly on
your vocation be mastered first, then widen the circle as opportunity
affords. Do not scatter your powers over so much territory that they
are felt nowhere. It is only when the sun's rays are brought to a focus
that they burn. The man who is one thing this year, another next;
studies medicine a while, then law, is next a school-teacher, and then
an insurance agent, will, in the end, be nothing. Men who are always
changing, never learn enough about anything to make it of any value.
Men who are eminent in their professions have stuck to them with a
singleness of purpose. Men talk much about genius, when, generally, the
genius of which they speak is but the result of unremitting
application. The genius that blesses this world is simply a talent for
hard work. They are men who have the resolution to try, and the courage
to persevere. Idle men of the most eminent natural ability are soon
distanced in the race by the mediocre who sticks to his purpose and
plods. Then, I repeat, if you would succeed in life, in whatever
calling you may select, divest yourself of the idea that you are a
genius and do not need the application demanded by common mortality;
rely not on the caprices of fickle fortune; but rely on God and
yourself, economize your time, apply yourself with diligence and with
singleness of purpose. With these you will be a blessing to the world,
and fulfill the high and holy purposes of God in giving you being.
Self-culture looks not simply to time, but to eternity. No man is truly
cultured who is not cultured for eternity. His culture is but
one-sided, and that the most inferior side. The well-rounded and
perfected culture, though it may be only partial so far as the culture
of this world is concerned, is the culture that prepares one to
matriculate in the great university over which God presides, and sit
forever in delightful appreciation at the feet of the great Teacher.
Let this, then, be the ultimatum of all your efforts.
It is for this reason that you should so highly appreciate this
institution from which you go out to-day as honored students. While the
various branches of the arts and sciences that pertain to this life,
have been carefully and accurately taught you, the great Science of
eternal life, if I may so term it, has been, I trust, indelibly
engraved on your every heart. A college whose faculty is composed
exclusively of Christian men and women, and in which the systematic
study of the Bible by both ladies and gentlemen is made one of its most
prominent features, will ever be most highly appreciated by those who
appreciate true culture, and know in what it consists. I think I
appreciate a high standard of education, and I want, if possible, to
give my children its advantages; but I should infinitely prefer their
never going beyond the common school than to be graduated with the
first honors from the most renowned colleges or universities of Europe
or America, in which the authority of Jesus is not held as supreme, and
the Bible honored as our only divine guide. Other things being equal,
we should always honor those institutions most that honor God's word
most. For this reason, then, as well as for many others, we delight to
honor this institution from whose fostering care you this day go forth.
In conclusion, let me entreat you to be what this world now most
needs--MEN and WOMEN. The world is now burdened with "gentlemen and
ladies;" but it is perishing for the want of MEN and WOMEN. The world
needs men and women that are true to themselves, true to each other,
and true to God--men and women who know what manliness is, and what
womanly virtues are; who delight in the real, and scorn the
counterfeit; who have the courage to do right because it is right; who
would rather stand alone on the side of truth, than with the world on
the side of error; who are governed by high and holy principle, not by
selfish policy. We need men and women that will create a healthier
public sentiment, rather than to float on that which exists; who will
frown out of countenance the fraud, dishonesty and meanness that now
lifts high its head in society; who will not live in fine palaces,
drive fast horses, and occupy the first pews in the sanctuary, at ten
cents on the dollar. The world needs men and women who have hearts and
consciences, as well as brains; who realize that they have a soul as
well as a body; who live for eternity rather than for time.
God grant that you may all make such men and women. That you may not
only be a blessing to the age and generation in which you live; but
that your influence for the "true, the beautiful and the good," may be
felt like the gentle dews of heaven upon the earth, generations after
you are gathered to your fathers! May you be diligent and faithful in
the cultivation of your nobler powers of mind and heart till the world
shall bless God that you have lived in it; then laying aside the body,
in which you have fought the grand fight for righteousness and truth--a
fight on which God and angels have looked with interest and delight--as
you would lay aside a worn-out garment, and passing through "the gates
ajar," enter on a higher plane of culture, where you will not have to
rely upon self, and struggle against adversity as here; but where you
will have all the facilities of Heaven, and be forever pupils of the
great Teacher!
III.--PLUS ULTRA VS. NE PLUS ULTRA.
[An Address Delivered Before Eminence College, June 10, 1881.]
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF EMINENCE COLLEGE:--It has ever been a delight
to me to meet with the faculty and students of Eminence College on
these festive occasions. It is but natural that the hearts of those who
have gone out from these classic halls should turn on these gala days,
and in feeling if not in fact, renew the fond associations of the past.
They are oases in the desert; well-springs to the thirsty soul in the
journey of life. I should, therefore, be untrue to myself, and unjust
to you, were I not to confess to a pardonable pride in the privilege of
addressing for the second time one of the graduating classes of this
renowned institution. The subject on which I shall to-day address you
is
"_Plus Ultra vs. Ne Plus Ultra._"
Spain is the great southwestern peninsula of Europe. It juts out
between two seas as does no other country of that continent. Before the
discovery of America by Columbus, the Spaniards prided themselves on
the supposed fact that their country was the last point of solid land
on the earth westward. Beyond them, they thought, there was nothing but
a vast expanse of water--a shoreless ocean--a mystery never to be
solved. Consequently the early coins of that country, in order to give
prominence to this idea, were indented with a picture of the pillars of
Hercules, the two great sentries on each side of the straits of
Gibraltar. Encircling these pillars on their coins was the inscription,
_ne plus ultra_--nothing beyond. They imagined, therefore, that they
constituted the limits of creation; that beyond them there was nothing.
Consequently, as in creation the last is the best, they gave to
themselves the preëminence. In this proud idea they rested and praised
the Lord. In their own estimation, therefore, they constituted the _ne
plus ultra_ of God's favored people. Thus they constituted another
proud monument of man's folly and ignorance, from which it is well to
take warning. In course of time, however, Columbus conceived the idea
of another world west of Spain. After long years of discouragement,
sufficient to crush the spirit of all but those of noble impulses and
high resolves, he was permitted, with a small fleet, utterly
insignificant in this age, to sail westward. He thus discovered the
_new world_ whose existence, if ever known before, had faded from the
memory of man. On his return, when the Spaniards became convinced that
a great continent lay to the west of them, they were compelled,
humiliating as it was, to change the inscription on their coins,
encircling the pillars of Hercules, to _plus ultra_--more beyond. This
the demonstrated truth demanded. Thus the discovery of America took the
_ne_ off of their proud motto, thus teaching them a lesson which should
be a lesson to the world. Their negation was changed to an affirmation.
Their boasted limit of creation was changed to an acknowledgment of the
unknown beyond. Thus it has ever been in man's proud history. Thus it
will doubtless continue to be till we know as we are known. "Whether
there be knowledge, it shall vanish away; for now we know only in part,
but then shall we know even also as we are known."
The first thought with which I would impress your minds to-day,
especially the minds of those who go out from this institution with the
honors of graduation, is that there is something beyond--the _plus
ultra_ of a collegiate education. One of the most fatal mistakes in
securing a collegiate education is, that this is all. If one of you
entertains the idea to-day that your education is "finished," you will
be a failure. We hear much in this age about a "finished education" in
college. Alas! there is too much truth in it. The education of many is
thus "finished," and their progress in life is also _finished_. A
college course is not the end, but simply the means, of an education.
This is simply the foundation, not the structure. On this you are to
hereafter build; otherwise the foundation will be worthless. Without
the after building the foundation itself will decay. This is alike the
teaching of the history of man and the Son of God. On this foundation,
therefore, I would urge you to build, not for time only, but for
eternity. On it you should erect a noble structure, at once an ornament
and a blessing to your race. This can not be done in a day. Patience
and perseverance are the price of success. You must learn to "labor and
to wait."
How often do we see the scintillations of genius within college walls,
of which we see or hear nothing after the day of graduation? On that
day the sun of their brilliancy seems to set forever. Why is this?
Simply because they think their graduation is the _ne plus ultra_ of
their literary life.
It is not what we learn in college, but what we learn after leaving it,
that makes us what we are in after life. The value of a collegiate
education consists not in the amount of information it imparts, but in
a preparation for the accumulation and use of information. Not simply
the best minds, but the best students are those who win the prize in
the end. Not the best students in college, but the best students after
leaving it, are those who make the world feel their power. Many study
hard for the honors of graduation, and beyond this seem to have no
aspirations. If this is their _ne plus ultra_, then it is worthless.
This institution does not educate you for graduation; it graduates you
for education. Without this end in view, its labors would better cease.
An institution is honored not by what its students know on the day of
commencement, but by what they know and do ere they matriculate in the
great university of worlds. It is, therefore, young ladies and
gentlemen, to this end and not to this hour, that your teachers have
faithfully labored to bring you. Without this in view, you will miss
the grand purpose of your education thus far.
Doubtless many of us know men and women who have not grown an inch
since the day that they went out from these or other halls of learning.
They may have promised much at the beginning. On their success high
hopes were built. Loving hands were impatient to wreathe their brows
with the garlands of victory. But, alas! those hopes have been blighted
and those garlands have withered. We see them in the pulpit, at the
bar, and in all the other vocations of life. They are failures, not for
want of mind, but for want of application. They have not followed up
their victories, and their victories have turned to defeat. They have
been resting on the honor of faded laurels, that in their freshness so
become you to-day. To gather these was the _ne plus ultra_ of their
efforts, and hence the end of their success. Therefore, if any of you
to-day look upon your graduation as the consummation of your literary
struggles, let me exhort you to change your motto, and, like the
Spaniards, on the birth of the new world, discard the idea of a
possessed _ultimatum_, and imprint upon your banner _plus ultra_--more
beyond.
As most of the graduating class are ladies, I feel the necessity of
speaking especially of their hopes and prospects. Till recently, the
hindrances of woman's education and literary position have been great
and discouraging. But, thanks to the religion of Jesus, her
disabilities have in Christian lands been removed. Woman was the
crowning workmanship of God, and she has received the crowning
blessings of Christianity. By the blessing of Christianity, the
intellectual and spiritual powers of woman are encouraged. The world is
often dazzled by her genius, astonished at her resources, and subdued
by her spirit. She has stood in the halls of learning, walked in the
groves of science, and gathered laurels on the mountains of fame. She
has stimulated the world's genius, soothed its passion, and strewed her
pathway through it with the sweetest flowers. Women have ever been the
world's brightest angels of mercy--
"Whose company has harmonized mankind,
Soften'd the rude and calmed the boisterous mind."
There are positions in the world for which woman was not made. The
finishing touches of creation's wondrous works were too delicate to fit
her for the political arena, the command of armies, or the founding of
empires. She was made for higher and holier ends than these. She is
adapted to a work more noble and more enduring. Her empire is in the
heart, and her scepter one of spiritual dominion. Here she is a queen,
and reigns without a rival. While there is a limit to her appropriate
field of action, there is no limit to her power. Some one has said:
"The current of female existence runs more within the embankments of
home." This is true, but her influence overflows those banks and
inundates the world. Her influence may be compared to the sparkling
rivulet that bursts from the mountain peak, then winding its way to the
valley below, it flows gently onward for thousands of miles, through
rugged hills and fertile plains, bathing the feet of great cities and
slaking the thirst of great countries, augmented by its tributaries,
till, bearing upon its bosom the commerce of a nation, it pours its
flood of waters into the world's great ocean. As our grand Mississippi
will readily yield to an infant's touch, and yet bear upon its bosom
the proudest vessels of man's invention, so is the tenderness and the
power of woman's influence.
I have spoken of woman being the "last of creation." This expression is
generally used in a false sense. She was last because God created on an
ascending scale. She was, therefore, last in creation and first in
redemption. She gave to the world its Saviour, and first proclaimed His
birth from the dead. She was His best friend while He was here, and has
been most devoted to His cause during His absence. Hence where
Christianity goes woman's power is felt. The extent to which woman is
honored marks to-day with unerring certainty the extent of a nation's
civilization.
Young ladies, you have before you a field of golden opportunities. Only
thrust in your sickles and reap. In this age and country there are
great potentialities to every young lady of a good mind and a pure
heart. Let no one, therefore, be discouraged. Remember that there is
something beyond--the _plus ultra_ of a well-begun life.
Having urged the necessity of _plus ultra_ as your motto, as against
_ne plus ultra_, I may drop some profitable hints as to the
attainment of success. You know that one may give good advice, though
he may not have profited by it himself.
In the first place, everything depends on work. Intense application is
the price of success. The world's benefactors are the world's hard
workers. "Tickle the earth with a hoe, and it will laugh at you with a
harvest." But it closes its fists against those who extend to it an
idle hand. Many people contend that the world owes them a living, and
grumble that it does not pay the debt. What have they done for the
world to bring it into their debt? The world owes every man a living
when he earns it by honest toil, and not before. Those who sow with a
stingy hand may expect to reap a scanty harvest. You should, therefore,
in whatever vocation you may elect, strive to succeed on this
principle; otherwise you will not deserve success.
You should not be discouraged because surroundings are not favorable,
and hope seems long deferred. Be not impatient of results. Do your
whole duty, and leave the consequences with the Lord. Never strive to
be great. Few men become great this way, and they never deserve it.
True greatness comes as a result of devotion to principle and duty. The
highest and noblest success comes through a spirit of
self-forgetfulness.
Learn to be indifferent to surroundings. You need not catch the "spirit
of the age" unless the "spirit of the age" is worth catching. When you
contemplate Marquis de Condorcet, in the dark days of the French
Revolution, hiding in a lonely room in the city of Paris, while its
streets ran red with noble and innocent blood, quietly writing a book
whose subject was, "_Man's Certain Progress to Liberty, Virtue, and
Happiness_," you will understand what I mean.
You must learn to _think_; to think regardless of surroundings; to
think only of the thing of which you wish to think; and on this to
concentrate the whole power of your mind. This requires careful
training; but this only is _education_. With this you have full command
of all your resources; without this they avail but little. The great
motive power of the world is thought. Information without thought is
simply a peddler burdened with stale wares on a dead market. It is not
what one knows, but what he can produce, that makes the world feel his
power. Hence one must be a producer as well as a receiver. The world's
thought must be regenerated in his own mind. He should turn the world's
dead facts into living thoughts--"Thoughts that breathe, and words that
burn."
Avoid fickleness of purpose. Decide to do something in harmony with
your endowments and the will of God, _and do it_. Many people of fine
attainments and intellectual powers are spending their lives trying to
decide for what purpose the Lord made them. Before they determine what
they are good for, the world is certain to decide that they are good
for nothing. Life is too precious to be spent in hesitation. He who
vacillates will do nothing. Concentration is power. The rays of the sun
that would hardly warm an infant's hand will, when concentrated by a
lens, blister the palms of the hardiest sons of toil.
If we would make life a success, we must live for a purpose. He who
lives simply for the sake of living, has no just conception of life.
Those who live for the gratification of the flesh should remember that
the goat lives for the same purpose. How humiliating the thought, that
so many of the cultured, as well as the ignorant; the rich as well as
the poor; the "cream of society" as well as its dregs, are thus living
on the low plane of animal life! The grand distinction between man and
the brute creation is in his _spirit_ nature. Without spiritual
culture, every thought, every aspiration, every gratification, is of
the earth earthy. How sad, then, to see the gaudy "butterflies of
society" spending their lives without a thought above that which alone
can lift them forever above the plane of animal life! It is sad thus to
think, but sadder still 'tis true. The enjoyment of "society,"
therefore, must not be your _ne plus ultra_, else life will be a
failure.
In order to the highest success, you should live fast, but not in the
world's bad sense of that word. I simply mean that your life should be
intense. Mere existence is not life. Life is action. Life is not
measured by time, but by experience. It is our duty, therefore, to live
all we can in the time allotted us. The patriarchs lived longer than
we, but we may live more than they. This is a grand age in which we
live. We may now live more in fifty years than Methuselah did before
the flood. The time is short. Hence if we would live much we must live
fast.
But here I anticipate an objection. You say, "We shall shorten our days
by fast living." Not by _this kind_ of fast living. The world will
never be troubled for burying ground for those who kill themselves
simply by hard work. It is not work, but worry, that wears men out. We
have too much friction in our lives. This must be stopped. An hour's
passion will tell more on the constitution than a week's work. The
largest amount of action, with the smallest amount of friction, is the
problem before you; and he is the wisest philosopher who gives to us
its best practical solution.
I wish now to invite your attention to mistakes that men have made in
supposing that their knowledge was the _ne plus ultra_ of human wisdom.
Time was when the alchemists thought they possessed the _ne plus ultra_
of human knowledge, and that wisdom would die with them; yet their
knowledge is now to chemistry what astrology is to astronomy. It is a
superstition on whose claims no scientist would dare to risk his
reputation. Now chemistry is the _ne plus ultra_ of human wisdom, and
every man is a fool who does not hold the key to the secret chambers of
its hidden treasures! But how long till we shall have a new chemistry
that will render the old a bundle of laughable folly? The fact is, by
the advancement of human knowledge we demonstrate that our ancestors
were a set of fools, and our posterity will doubtless pay us the same
compliment! The philosophy of history should teach us to be modest, and
to keep as our motto _plus ultra versus ne plus ultra_.
Modern science has demonstrated that of all unreliable things, ancient
science is the most unreliable. We should, therefore, expect to
eventually see modern science remanded to the same category. One of the
greatest inventors of the age, Mr. Edison, whose inventions have had to
do wholly with modern science, tells us that he has been constantly
thrown off the track and misled by the frauds of science. He thus
expresses his estimate of the authorities in modern science:
"They [the text-books] are mostly misleading. I get mad with myself
when I think I have believed what was so learnedly set out in them.
_There are more frauds in science than anywhere else_.... Take a
whole pile of them and you will find uncertainty, if _not
imposition_, in half of what they state as scientific truth. They
have time and again set down _experiments as done by them_,
curious, out-of-the-way experiments, _that they never did_, and
upon which they have founded so-called scientific truths. I have
been thrown off my track often by them, and for months at a time.
You see a great name, and you believe it. Try the experiment
yourself, and you find the result altogether different.... I tell
you I'd rather know nothing about a thing in science, nine times
out of ten, than what the books would tell me--for practical
purposes, for applied science, the best science, the only science,
I'd rather take the thing up and go through with it myself. I'd
find out more about it than any one could tell me, and I'd be sure
of what I know. That's the thing. Professor this or that will
controvert you out of the books, and prove out of the books it
can't be so, though you have it right in the hollow of your hand
all the time and could break his spectacles with it."
Thus it is that these authorities have been weighed in the balances and
found wanting. This is a marvelous age, an age of unsurpassed invention
and discovery of truth, but it is not the _ne plus ultra_ of human
wisdom--if we are to take any lessons from the past ages.
The wave theory of sound, which has been regarded as a settled
scientific fact since the days of Pythagorean, is now vigorously
attacked, and the adherents to the orthodox ground will have to rally
their forces and reconsider their proofs, if they save the theory from
slumbering among the follies of the past.
In the past few years the world has been startled by the bold theory of
evolution, as advocated by Darwin, Haeckel, Huxley and others. Many
have felt uneasy about the foundations of our faith. But such alarm is
all premature. The glaring contradictions of one another of these
modern apostles of a "gospel of dirt," and their self-stultification,
are enough to convince any thoughtful reader, that if the race has not
developed from apes, a few of them bear marks of descent from asses!
The credulity of this class of men is simply marvelous. They can
believe that a moneron can be developed into a man, but can not believe
in a miracle! Their wonderful development of a moneron into a man
terminates with the boundary line of time, and thus the _ne plus ultra_
is reached of their "infinite progression!"
In order to a proper appreciation of the present life, we must be
deeply impressed with the nature of that which lies beyond. No one can
well spend the present life who does not spend it in view of the life
to come. Man must properly appreciate himself before he can live in
harmonious relations with his being. No man can have that appreciation
of himself essential to a true life, who believes that his ancestors
were monerons and mud-turtles!
While there are many striking resemblances between animals and man,
just such as we should expect to find from the hand of the same
Creator, who began farthest from himself and worked to his own divine
model, yet there are striking differentiae which demand profound
consideration. Animals come into the world with the knowledge of their
ancestors. The beaver knows just what its ancestors knew before the
flood. It is born into the world with that transmitted knowledge. Its
posterity will know no more during the millennium. On the contrary, man
is born into the world an intellectual blank. However wise his parents,
he inherits not one idea. He knows absolutely nothing except what he
learns--learns from teachers and by experience. It would be
incomprehensibly strange if man in his development from a mollusk,
should accumulate inherited knowledge till he reaches the _ne plus
ultra_ of terrestrial life, and then by a sudden break in the chain of
nature lose it all, and come into the world a born fool!! This would be
"development," "natural selection," and the "survival of the fittest,"
with a vengeance! Here is a chasm between man and the lower animals,
made by the hand of God, that human wisdom can never bridge.
In his intellectual, moral and spiritual development, man starts from
zero. God has thus ordained it. He is dependent on progression for all
that he is and all that he is to be. God simply gives him a start in
this world, with the numberless ages of eternity before him for
infinite advancement. The idea, therefore, that "death ends all" nips
in the bud this grand conception of man's greatness, and blights
forever that which is noblest and truest in his nature. To regard this
life as the _ne plus ultra_ of man's development, is to charge nature
with a freak of folly, and an abortion in her best works. Men may laud
human virtue for human virtue's sake; but if man is but the moth of a
day, the fire-fly whose phosphorescent light flashes for a moment and
then goes out in eternal night, his virtues are but the tales of the
hour that have their value in the telling. If this life is all there is
of man, then he is the most unmeaning portion of the creation of God.
There is for him no perfection, no satisfying of his inherent wants,
and the whole of his existence is a sham and a fraud. As Young has
beautifully said:
"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful, is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such!
Who centered in our make such strange extremes,
From different natures marvelously mixed,
Connection exquisite of distant worlds!
Distinguished link in being's endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorbed!
Though sullied and dishonored, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!
Helpless immortal! insect infinite!
A worm! a God!--I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost. At home, a stranger.
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast,
And wondering at her own. How reason reels!
O, what a miracle to man is man!
Triumphantly distressed! What joy! what dread!
Alternately transported and alarmed!
What can preserve my life? or what destroy?
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave;
Legions of angels can't confine me there."
It is only when we thus look beyond this life, and contemplate his
relation to the Deity, that we realize the true dignity of man.
It is natural that you should desire power--power to bless the race and
bring it nearer to God. Do not be discouraged if you do not find this
power clothed in the world's pomp and parade. The most God-like power
comes not in this way. God works by quiet forces that man may scorn but
can not equal. Behold that mountain of ice in the polar sea held by the
relentless grip of a winter's frost. All the engineering power of man
could not shake it upon its throne. All the locomotives in the world
could not move it an inch. But nature unveils her smiling face when the
springtime comes, the sun sheds upon it his gentle rays, noiseless as
the grave, too mild to hurt an infant's flesh, and soon these mountains
of ice relax their grip and glide away into the great deep! This is
power. This power you may possess, and should strive to possess,
through the gentle forces of a regenerated nature, till the quiet
influences you exert for God will pass beyond the bounds of time and be
expended on a shoreless eternity.
In conclusion, then, let me urge you to live for eternity, and let the
life that now is be with reference to that which is to come. Then will
you progress from the low plane of our terrestrial sphere to
association with God, and eternity alone will mark the _ne plus ultra_
in intellectual and spiritual development toward the Divine Being.
PART III.--SELECTIONS.
NEW TESTAMENT VIEWS OF CHRIST.
I.--CHRIST THE LAMB OF GOD.
"Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world"
(John i. 29)
The New Testament presents a many-sided view of Christ. From each point
of view he appears in a new relation, and we study him in a different
character. We can see but one side of a mountain by approaching it from
only one direction. We must view it from every point from which it
presents a different aspect, before we have seen it as it is. So we
should study Christ in the many characters in which He is introduced
upon the sacred page, that we may understand more of the many dear
relations He sustains to us. The more we know of Him in His various
relations, the more we will love Him and the better we will serve Him.