Address delivered before the alumni and the senior class of the University of North Carolina : in Gerard Hall: on the day preceding the annual commencement, in June, 1838. Under the appointment of the Dialectic Society

              THE LIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF
NORTH CAROLINA
THE COLLECTION OF
NORTH CAROLINIANA
ENDOWED BY
JOHN SPRUNT HILL
CLASS OF 1889
G378
UK3
I838M
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL
00036720922
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DELIVERBD BEFORK THE
ALOHVI A:\^D the SE.^IOR Cf.Af§S,
flMVERSTTY OF NORTH CAROIJNA :
I2T O-SP.AP.D HALL:
ON TRK DAY PRECEDING THE
r.NDER THE APPOINTMENT OF THE
2> 12 i^. 2£> 12 ^ ^ S ^ ^<£>^E2St?^a
By CHARLES MANLY, EsauiRE.
PUBLISHED BY ORDER OF SAID SOCIETY. -f'
RALEIGH, x\. C.
Printed by T. Loring, at tho Office of the North Carolina Standard.
1838. .
'
•• <«
.-t '
r- '
Unlvcrsihj of North Carolina.
Dear Sir:
An agreement has been lately entered into by the two
Societies, for the purpose of electing a member annually, and al-ternately
from each body, to deliver an address before the Senior
Class and the Alumni of the University, on Wednesday after-noon
preceding Commencement. As president of the Dialectic
Society, I have the pleasure to inform you that you have been
chosen to deliver the address, alluded to above. This being a
new, and, we think, an important addition to the exercises of the
Commencement, we feel very anxious that it should succeed.
—
Permit me, therefore, individually and in behalf of the Society,
to beg that you will give it the sanction of your name, and re-commend
it, by your acceptance, to those who may he hereafter
selected; for we feel assured that the Society could not have se-lected
an individual, more able to give to the exercise dignity and
importance, and place it on a level with the oration delivered bo-fore
the two Societies, on Wednesday morning.
You will please to let me hear from you as soon as you cau
with convenience.
'V- ' / • I am, sir, yonr ob't servant,
CHARLES J. CRADDOCK. "
To Ch.\rle3 Manly, "Esq.
^
• ' •• Chapel Hill, 2&lh June, ISoS.
Dear Sir:
Wc tender to you the ilianks of the Dialectic Society, for
the excellent address delivered by you on the 27th inst., to the
Senior Class and Alumni of the University, and respectfully re-quest
of you a copy for publication.
Yours, with the hiijhest respect,
JOHN N. BARKSDALE,
P. E. BRADLEY,
W. F. BROWN.
To Char).ks MadlV, Esq'r.
Raleigh, \st July, 1838.
Young Gentlemen: '
•
I yield my assent to the publication of the desultory ad-dress
delivered by me, during the last Commencement exercises
—not from a consciousness of its possessing any intrinsic merit,
or of its deserving a place in your archives—but in obedience to
custom, and from a desire to gratify the wishes of the Society
you represent, whose request you have so politely communicated.
With sentiments of the highest
respect, I am, gentlemen,
Your ob't serv't,
CHAS. MANLY.
To Messrs. J. N. Barksdale,
)
P. E. Bradley, > Committee.
W. F. Brown. \
IlelUcred ill Gerard Hall, ISilS.
Gentlemen Alumni of the University:—
The pious Pilgrim who wanders many
thousand miles to visit the Holy Land, feels, as he treads
the liallowed ground, invigorated and refreshed in his
Christian warfare.
The voluntary exile from his oative home, who ranges
o'er the world in pursuit of its happiness, its honors, or
Its riches, revisits with gladsome lieart the place where
"Once in life's gay spring he used to roam."
The Alunmi of our Alma Mater, witli khidrcd sym-pathies,
have come hither on this joyous anniversary.
—
They have come to rekindle at her altar their early at-tachments,
the flame of sacred friendship. To catch fresh
inspiration of that spirit which once glowed in their bo-soms,
when, amidst these peaceful retreats, unshackled
by the cares, and unvexed by the duplicity of the world,
they contended in the noble strife of generous emulation.
Our Classic Jubilee, is indeed, full of sublime attrac-tions.
The sober alfections of the aged, the ardent hearts
of the young, and the thrice welcome plaudits of the soft-er
sex, without whose inspiring influence, fancy languish-es,
and genius dies, have all come up to this Temple of
science, to pay their homage at her shrine, and to reward
with their presence and their smiles her youthful votaries.
When we contemplate the scenes which surround
us, the edifices erected, the Professorships established, the
standard of classical instruction and of intellectual philo-sophy
now prevail hig in our University, and revert to the
6.
rarly j'Kjnod of her hi.'itory, our nunds are tilled witjj
wonder at her advaiiceinent. We have seen tier strug-gling
for existence, against the false imputations and un-just
prejudices of the public, of her being a sectarian
Seminary, a nursery for the sons of the wealthy alone.
—
We have seen her languishing under pecuniary embar-rassments—
her energies paralyzed by a load of debt, and
her rightful guardians and protectors abandoning her to
swift destruction. And we have seen her Trustees nak-ed
fiduciaries, unmoved by interest, unarmed by power,
and unclothed with patronage, sustaining her with un-flinching
steadiness. We have seen them disencumber-ing
her of her embarrassments, animating her hopes, and
under the most discouraging circumstances, and with the
most precarious means, placing her beyond the reach of
her unnnatural enemies ; investing her with liberal en-dowments,
and offering gratuitously the waters of her
Pierian fountain, to all who will come and drink.*
The genius of this mighty republic, which has urg-ed
our country on, with the eagle's flight in the race of
nations, has likewise kept her sacred vigils here. We see
our Alma Mater keeping pace with the progress of science
and literature ; and from the humble pretensions of a
grammar school, elevated and dignified to the rank of the
most distinguished seminaries of the Land.
In this proud retrospect of the past, and these bright
anticipations of her future destiny, still, our hearts are
here filled with mournful contemplations of the utter niu-
* By an Ordinance of the Board of Trustees: "Any na-tive
of the State, desirous of prosecuting his studies in the Uni-versity,
who shall furnish satisfactory evidence of good talents,
studious habits and exemplary morals, and who shall be unable
to defray the expense of tuition and room rent, mav at the dis-cretion
of the Faculty, be admitted io all the recitations oi the
Classes, free of any demand therefor."'
7.
fability ol' all things. We look around on this .«;oquester-ed
spot, and recognize the same venerable otiks, under
whose umbrageous foliage we have so oft reclined. We
walk abroad upon the hills ; revisit our former haunts and
retrace the inscription we have rudely carved, on some
ancient beach, or listen to the murmurings of the same
.stream, along whose quiet banks we have so often stray-ed,
and recall our golden visions and romantic dreams :
but, where are our companions ? AVhere the wild laugh
that used to re-echo through these solitudes? Where
that kind look, that gentle spirit, that kindred .soul, which
won our confidence and love ?
" Alas I we miss him on die accustomed hill, • '
>'' Along the heath and near his favorite tree " •
We look in vain, nor yet beside the rill
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood is he."
Here too, as with lingering step we pace these Halls,
we meet, in imagination, at every pass, the genius of this
place. But 'tis fancy's uiterview.
Where is now that venerable form, that dignified
brow, that parental voice, that once pervaded this whole
community? He, who in early life came into the Insti-tution,
nourished her infancy, invigorated her manhood,
and who adhered to her with unfaultering tenderness and
fidelity, in the darkest hour of her penury and affliction?
Where is now that great Apostle, who illuminated the
sacred fires of science, and adorned her beauties ?—
•
Where the revered and faithful instructer, whose zealous
and untiring care it was, to instil into our minds the wis-dom
of this world, and to teach us the way to Heaven?
The nothingness of this world's gi'eatness, points to yon-der
monument, l)eneath whose Inmible piles his venera-ted
bones.repose. Clo there, and barn from the djslinc-
8.
tive lines, of the character of Joseph Caldwell ; to
Ufiitate his energy, his quickness of decision, his prompti.
tude in action, his perseverance in duty, his devoted pa-triotism,
and exalted piety.
Thither let us all repair and bedew his ashes with
the tear of affection. Green be the sod and unfading its
verdure, that rests upon that consecrated spot
:
" Si quid ad fainam valent
Mens omnigenffi doctriiiec capax
Variis artibus ingenuis valde ornata
*^ Animus-que pius, liberalis, benignus,
Nee non vita liceris provehendis confecta %
Et laboribus assiduis in commodura publicum ' •
Mortui baud cito delebitur memoria."
You, into whose laps the treasures of knowledge
have been poured, and who have gone forth into the busy-walks
of life, stand, before God and posterity, in a post of
high responsibility to your country. She needs the aid
of enlightened patriotism. Guard well her honor.
The loss of it, is the sure precursor to her destruction,
f/ook at the history of other republics. Behold the once
proud fabric of the Roman empire. Once the acknowl-edged
mistress of the world, in arts, and genius, and arms,
Rome is now an inferior city, known only by the solemn
ruins of its ancient splendor.
Where is now her glory ? her civilians, her philoso-phers,
her military heroes J Departed ; gone forever.
—
The intrepid virtue of that Republic, sunk into the timid
slavishness of despotism. Her character gone, her national
pride subdued, vandalism soon desolated her classic fields.
Let us take instruction from her example, and be wise
without suffering the ills of her experience. Extend over
our people the shield of an honorable national character,
and tlipy will confide in and respect the government.—
m
Teach them ihat the ejaculation " I am an American cit-izen,"
covers them with honor, and encircles them as with
panoply throughont the world, and they will be ready to
rnsh to her rescne and defence against assaults from with-out,
and the corruptions of demagogues and ambitious
leaders within. I charge you, as you value your coun-try's
glory and national existence, strive to check her
spirit of avarice and thirst for plunder. The restless spi-rit
of our people is bent alone on wealth. Tlie vast re-gions
of our unexplored territory invite cupidity. Where
do you find a man who regards himself as permanently
settled ? How few do you see occupying the homes and
places of their fathers. Seduced by this passion, falsely
called enterprizc, you behold, on all sides, neighborhoods
and families dispersed, the parental roof abfindoned by
our offspring ere they arrive at maturity ; men cutting
loose the tenderest associations
; quitting the houses they
have built, the trees which they have planted, the fields
which have nourished them, and which contain the ashes
of their forefathers. These habits may impart vigor and
boldness to the character of our people, but they are not
calculated to give stability to public virtue.
When wealth comes to be regarded as the chief good,
and virtuous poverty to be despised, the moral sense of the
community is infected, and they soon become the prey of
their own licentiousness and vice. What but this thirst
for plunder and contempt of national character, inipels
our government in her Indian policy 1 Why are these poor
houseless savages hunted down like wild beasts, butcher-ed
in their hammocks, or driven by the unrighteous arm
of power from their home and their countiy? Com-pelled
to submit to arbitrary stipulations, falsely called
treaties, on the one hand, and on the other, betrayed and
, / 10.
kidnapped hy violations of the nation^sfiag. See their
Osceolas, too proud to submit, too brave to be conquered,
'entrapped by the perfidious display of a Flag of Truce,
and doomed to languisli and die ; not in chivalrous strife,
with steel to steel, but the tardy and ignominious death of
captive slaves. Who will not blush when he dispassion-ately
reads this dark page of his country's degradation.
—
Who would not see the lagoons and morasses and swamps
of the Seminoles, struck from creation's map, rather tlian
behold the ^^ star spangled banner^^'' our national aegis,
thus tarnished and desecrated ? And why all this ? Be-cause
the white man wants their land. Look to the
Cherokees. For many years the benevolent policy of this
government, pursuing the suggestions of our illustrious
W^ashington, was employed in the laudable and pious
task of civilizing these savages. Implements of husbandry
and of the mechanic arts were furnished them ; schools
established, and the blessings of christian light and truth
patronized and sent to them : and now, amidst the suc-cessful
tide of these experiments, their institutions are to
be broken up, their fields and altars sacked, the cup of
civilization, as soon as tasted, snatched from their lips,
and they doomed to lapse again into hordes of wandering
barbarians :
" The spirit stirring drum, the ear piercing fife,
" The pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war"
liave lately burst upon the astonished head of our own
quiet State. Yes : Even old North Carolina snuffs the
tainted breeze. And although living with this people in
unbroken amity, she, too, is called upon by the General
Government to pollute her hands with this unhallowed
work of robbery and murder. They have long lived with-iti
our borders, imfelt and unseen. Our citizens, east of
11.
the Allcgluuiy, barely knew. uiiUl recently, tluil we even
possessed such a population.
One of their chiefs, being lately asked by the humane
and gallant officer of our army, charged with the execu-tion
of this order, whether they intended to resist then-removal,
replied : " We shall interpose no barrier. We
will shed not one drop of blood. But not a Cherokee will
go unless tied and dragged by cords and chains." What
a spectacle do we exhibit to the civilized world ? A great
and powerhd nation ; the boasted asylum of the persecu-ted
and distressed, the niu'sing mother of law and of
equal rights^ pourmg out her treasures and her armies,
to expatriate this poor remnant of the children of the forest.
And for what ? Bex^ause we want their land.
Well may they swear eternal vengeance ; and even
the stones of their deserted wigwams rise and mutiny.
—
'Tis a national sui ; a stain upon our country's honor.
The Almighty possesses no attribute that can take part
with us in such a controversy ; the Great Spirit, without
whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground, and
who feeds the hungry ravens when they cry, will, it is to
be feared, avenge the wrongs of these oppressed people, and
sooner or later, hurl his heaviest thunderbolts
"****** Against
" The deep damnation of their taking off—
"
I make no allusion here to party politics. These
remarks cannot be legitimately applied to either of the
great political parties of this nation. They are not divi-ded
by this question.
' ., Stand forth, then, my friends, and rebuke this spirit
of avarice and rapine.
Strive to preserve our national character ; to fill our
councils with enhghtened patriotism, and our public offi-ces
with <yentlemcn. . . • . .
13.
Despise the demagogue, whether he call himself
democrat or federalist, whig or tory, conservative or loco
foco. Let talent and virtue, and merit, be the passport to
power and place and not boisterous huzzahs, in praise
of some successful party Chief
Know that freedom is bliss, and that honor is strength.
" What constitutes a State ?
" Not higli raised battlement or labored mound,
'' Thick wall or moated gate,
"Not cities proud "with spires of beauty crowned}
" Not bays and broad armed ports
" Where laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ;
" Nor starred and spangled courts,
"Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride.
" No—men—high minded men,
" These constitute a State." ' .• .-i. •
•
Young Gentlemen of the Philanthropic and Di-alectic
iSociETiEs:
Were I a candidate for literary fame, seeking to se-cure
a niche in her fair temple, 1 should have denied my-self
the honor of this Address. - ^
Having entered at an early age, upon the busy and
varied employments of an active life ; accustomed to the
impromptu suggestions of the moment, without regard to
the elegance of classic diction or set forms of speech, and
having received a very short notice of your demand up-on
me, duty and self-respect, would have compelled me
to have retired from the task of appearing before this dig-nified
and enlightened assembly. Regarding, however,
the important relation which your Societies bear to the
prosperity of the college, and as an humble member of
tlie Board of Trustees, desirous of sustaining your regu-
13.
latioiis; and fearing the want of time for prcpuralion,
might in hke manner deter others, and yoin- wishes be
thus entirely frustrated, I determined at once to accept
your invitation. I was impelled to this decision by a-nother
reflection. From a long and intimate acquaint-ance
with the cliaracter of the young men of this col-lege,
I felt a consciousness that the humblest production
would be sustained, when ofl:ered in obedience to your
call ; and that I should find in your sympathetic and in-genuous
bosoms, a generous glow of satisfaction, even
with the imperfections and poverty of the eftbrt.
Tlie history of the Institutions under whose auspi-ces
we are now dissembled, is replete with lessons of prac-tical
wisdom.
In the year 1795 a voluntary association of the
young men of the college was formed, under the name
and style of the Dialectic Society, for the cultivation of
science and the social virtues ; laws ordained ; a govern-ment
in miniature established. In the year 1798, some of
the members of this Society, not in a spirit of restless op-position
and rebellion, but with the laudable motive of
stimulating virtuous ambition in scholastic attainments,
at the suofjrestion of the late venerable President Cald-
WELL, then professor of mathematics, peaceably with-drew,
and established the Philanthropic Society.
For nearly half a centiny, these Institutions have
pursued the even tenor of their way, having no otiier
guarantee for their existence, than their own intrinsic ex-cellence.
Claiming no perpetuity from chartered rights, un-protected
by the laws, they have lived and flourished in
the unsophisticated virtue of their members.
While the thousand associations of the day, havedi^-
14.
solved and pjisscd off with the ephenierul ebullitions that
gave them birth ; while within the period of your exist-.
ence, republics, kingdoms, and empires have arisen, and
in the mighty mutations of human affairs, are now known
only as things that have been—your Societies stand as
a great beacon lights teaching by that living motto, em-blazoned
on their escutcheons, that human Institutions
can only be stable, when fixed upon the immutable basis
of virtue. Amid the revolutions that distract the world,
let the spirit of laction and of mad ambition, stand re-buked
at the majestic example of your constancy and love
of order. Let the genius of emulation, as she wends her
toilsome way up the the rugged steeps of fame, take fresh
energy and courage, at the contemplation of the high
achievements secured by steady perseverance.
Little did the framers of your constitutions suppose,
when they were penning those instruments, that they
were giving to the deeds the impress of immortality, and
registering their names for posterity, high as the founders
of a race : little did they think, that the few old school
books and cheap novels, and odd volumes of history,
which, first were cast into common stock, and which, e-ven
within my rememberance, were kept in a few old
trunks, was the nucleus, around which would arise those
ma^ificent collections. Libraries, which regarded for
the costliness of their materials, for the range and taste
and variety of their selection, or the splendid drapery of
their exterior, need not blush at a comparison with any in
our country. Read in the sympathetic countenances of
many here, the feelings of exultation, with which their bo-soms
glow, when, after a long absence they come back to
your halls, and witness your advancement. Long may.
your Societies flourish, the nursery of science and know-
»
15.
. ledge, and of the kind affections and sympathies of life
;
the patrons of social order and decornm ; the cradle of
high-souled honor ; the scourge of indolence ; the bane
of seltishness, and meanness.
Your Societies, young Gentlemen, are identified with
this University. They have become great arteries in the
system, indispensable to its vitality. Without your active
co-operation, the laws of the college are impotent, and
nugatory. The dread of your displeasure carries more
terror than all the majesty of the laws and the authority
of the Faculty and Trustees combined ; you are emphat-ically
an ^^imperiwn im «//;.y?erio;" "a po\i^ei' behind the
throne greater than the throne itself." There is not an
individual in this assembly, acquainted with this place,
who does not know that what I say is true. Occupying
then, as you do, this high ground ; in the name of the
Trustees and Faculty of the University, I invoke your
powerful aid, in sustaining its discipline, in encouraging
industry and good manners, and in suppressing vice.
',' Gentlemen of the Senior Class:
The present is the most interesting period of
your lives. You are about to separate from each other,
after a close union of four years, to mingle in the wide
world before you, and to leave forever those Academic re-treats,
which must be consecrated by so many affecting re-collections.
Standing on the threshold of manhood, ready to
launch forth on the ocean of life, and fondly dreaming
each wind and star your friend, it is fit that you should
pause, and arm yourselves against her tempestuous bil-lows,
and the seductive serenity of her surface ;—to pro-vide
yourselves with charts for this perilous voyage, and
^ 10.
to keop an eye steadfast on those great lights, sot up to
conduct and save the mariner from her shoals and whirl-pools.
At such a crisis, when you are about to cast away
the pillars on which your dependant lives have leaned,
and to assume the responsibility of your own destiny, I
will not flatter you by the vain illusion that the eyes of
the world are upon you and rejoicing to see you
" Climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar."
Nor will I damp the ardor of your course, by pour-traying
the world as full of fraud and treachery, by teach-ing
you that friendship is but an empty name, and besetting
your path with the apprehension of assassins. It is not
my purpose to invite your attention to any theme drawn
from the depths of abstraction, demanding for its illustra-tion
the resources of learning, or for its embellishment,
the inspiration of poetry. But surrounded as you are,
on the one hand, by friends, who. full of anxiety, are con-gratulating
you on your entrance upon this great theatre,
and on the other, by associates, who, with heavy hearts
are bidding you an affectionate adieu ; suffer me to avail
myself of the tender sensibility which such a moment a-'
wakens, to impress upon your hearts the value of filial
PIETY. To you, the topic may be trite and common.—
To your assiduity in your studies, submission to author!-'
ty, and gentlemanly intercourse, the President and Facul-ty
of the college bear ample testimony, and the pos-session
of these virtues is a faithful presage of your hav-ing
fulfilled these high behests. Placing it, however, at
the head of the social duties, and regarding, as I do, the
value of its holy influence on our lives and actions, the
subject cannot, in my estimation, be too often pressed upr
on thf memory of the young. .
' •
• ' .
17.
Tlip oontomphition of tins siiliipr.t arises irresistibly
on au occasion liko the present.
It is impossible to look upon this assembly of young
men, collected here, from various quarters of our coun-try,
to thiuk of the purpose for which you have been thus
assembled, and the different circumstances under whicli
you have come together, without bestowing a thought on
those dear friends you liave left behind. When your
condition, young gentlemen, is contrasted with that of
the thousands of the youth around you, who, chilled by
jienury, or given up by parental abandonment to sloth
and indolence, have never turned their faces towards the
goal whither you are aiming, and are doomed to perish,
like tile beasts aroimd them ; when we regard yoiu" fa-vored
position in life, the facilities that have been here af-forded
you, of elevating your future destiny, of identify-ing
yourselves with yom* country's glory, and of learn-ing
the way to God, how should your bosoms burn with
gratitude and love for the authors of such signal privi-leges.
The kindness and solicitude of your parents, present
to you the most powerful incentives to your future exer-tion.
With what tenderness have they administered to
your wants in helpless infancy-—with what patience borne
your indiscretions in wayward childhood—with what
anxiety watched your steps in erring youth. No care has
been too severe, no self-denial too painful, no sacrifices too
great which would contribute to yoiu' felicity. To you
the meridian of life has been constantly devoted ; on you
their treasures expended. Treasures ! There may be
some, whose collegiate course has been sustained by the
daily toil of a parent's own hand : Aye ; some perhaps
from the scanty savings of a widowed mother ! A mo-
18/ '
llicr cncoiiiitcnng tlic chilling ills ol" penury, shut uul.
voluntarily, from the enjoyments of social life ; herself
the tenant of a garret, that her narrow income might
meet the expenses of your education here. For all this
affection and kindness and toil, the only reward they cx-l>
ect, the only requital they ask, is, that when you enter
upon the world you will act worthy of yourselves, and
not dishonor diem. And shall this requital be denied
them / Will yon, by your folly disturb the tranquility
of age, rob declining life of its few remaining pleasures,
and snatcli away from the hands of your doting parents
the last cup of earthly consolation ? The chord that vi-brates
from your generous hearts yields, I feel assured, the
^ ready res^>onse.
• •' You will never know, till the bitterness of ingratitude
shall teach you. the extent of your duties towards them,
nor learn the depth of the abiding, unchanging affection
which they bear towards you. Neither loss of character,
nor abandoned life, nor even black ingratitude itself can
eradicate this feeling from the parent's bosom. What
beautiful illustrations of this truth are furnished in the
Holy Scriptures. That volume, which, in the language
of the greatest philosopher and jurist that ever lived,
contains '-more true sublimity, more exquisite beauty,
more pure morality, more important history, and finer
strains both of poetry and eloquence, than can be collected
from all other Books, in whatever age or language they
may have been composed." • ,.. /
fjct us pause and contemplate its sublime pages, in
the history of one of the Jewish Princes.
He was a tall and comely youth, we are told, and
his father loved him exceedingly.
Heir of the throne oi IsraeK reared m the Inp of luxu- ,
. 19.
ry and case, all the wishcsof his heart were indulged with
alacrity hv liis Royal Father, and his aherrations covered
by tlie mantle of affection. AV'hen urged by the direful
spirit of malice and revenge, he becomes the murderer of
his brother, and is compelled to flee his country, the of-fended
majesty of the laws is made to yield to the demands
of parental tenderness, and the wandering exile is brought
back and restored to his father's confidence and protection.
Sullied by the corruptions of his own heart, and stimula-ted
by wicked counsellors and corrupt associates, this atro-cious
youth advances from one degree of enormity to
another, till, by the blandishments of flattery and the se-ductive
wiles of intrigue, he corrupts the fealty of his
father's subjects, and plots a deep and dark conspiracy to
rob him of his throne and kingdom. Impatient of the tar-dy
development of his treason and reljellion, fired with
tlie lust of rioting unchecked in the voluptuousness of the
palace, he approves the horrible counsel of a confederate,
and raises his parricidal arm to imbue it in his father's
]:)lood. A king, the greatest monarch of the earth, vene-rable
for his years and victories, sacred in his character,
both for piety and prophecy, renowned for prowess and
revered for wisdom, is reduced to the condition of a fu-gitive—
to a sudden and extreme necessity of flying for his
life from the presence of his own son ! Witli a heavy heart,
and a covered head, and a weeping eye, and bare feet,
David, we are told, went away from Jerusalem ; driven
by the insurrection of his own son from his house and
from his throne. Yet when the victorious hosts of Israel
were issuing from their gates, to rescue their great leader
from such unnatural peril, and to blast the machinations
of this ruthless Bandit, the illustrious Patriarch remem-bers
tliat he is his son. Rp^ardins: him with unbroken
20. ^
affection, and apologizing for his crimes as the wayward
vagaries of youth, he charges his captains that "they deal
gently with the young man for his sake." And when
arrested in his traitorous warfare hy the vengeance of the
Almighty, and suddenly overwhelmed in awful destruc-tion,
tliis incestuous murderer and parricide is ibund sus-pended
between the heavens and the earth, in token of his
being an unfit inhabitant of either ; and when the intelli-gence
of his death is announced ; instead of exulting in
his own rescue and in his restoration to his estates and
crown, the father is only overwhehncd with still deeper
affliction in his bereavement of a child. Forgetting the
wrongs and insults that liad been heaped upon him, re-gardless
of his own existence and strangled with grief, in
the plenitude of a heart bursting with the pangs of paren-tal
anguish, he exclaims, in the resistless eloquence of wo :
" Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom,
" Would to God I had died for thee !
'• Oh Absalom, my son, my son !
!"
The Almighty regards with favorable eye the efibrts
of filial duty. The first promise in the Decalogue is to
him that honoreth his father and mother. It is the primal
bond of society which the world, depraved and corrupt as
it may be, respects with deferential homage.
Who is there that does not admire the filial love of
the great Epaminondas, who declared that the greatest
pleasure which the renowned victory of Leuctra had af-forded
him, consisted in the reflection that his aged parents
had lived to rejoice in his fortune ? It was a noble spec-tacle,
amidst the flames that were consuming Troj', iwA
while the eager multitude were intent only on rescuing
their paltry treasure, to seethe dutiful Eneas bearing on
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his slioulder the venerable Aiiehises, his jtged father, to a
place of safety.
We can scarcely contemplate a sublimer spectacle
than that of a virtuous youth urged on in his struggle for
knowledge, not only by the love of science and by a sense
of its importance, but burning with the lioly purpose of
making, by his mental triumphs, a father's heart beat
with delight, and a mother's breast glow with rapture;
sacrificing, with manly energy, the customary lollies of
his age, yielding liis soul to the effort, and, like a suc-cessful
competitor in a mighty race, pressing onward to
the goal of honors, fame, and wealth. If the bosom of a
parent ever burn with joy, it is in witnessing the eflbrta
of such a son.
If when contemplating the possibility of his own pre-mature
dismissal from the M'orld, his soul can advert with
comfort to any anchor for the shattered vessel which he
leaves behind, it is v^'hen revolving in the recesses of his
burdened mind the prospects and fortunes of his bereaved
family, he augurs from the energy, die decision, the dili-gence,
the character of a son^ that his wife and children
will yet have one around wlioni they may cling with
hope ; one arm to stay them in distress ; one pillar to
support them ; one shield to ward from them the perils of
desolate \vidowhood and of orphan helplessness.
Take, then, young gentlemen, a retrospect of your
past lives ; and when, from the giddy thoughtlessness of
youth, your consciences shall reproach and chide you
witii neglect and disobedience, hasten to ask forgiveness,
and renew your vows of veneration and fidelity.
And be assured, my dear young friends, that when
the progress of time or the casualties of life, or the inva-sions
of disease shall bring on that painfid moment in
^3.
which you are to take a last look of the parent who has
watched and worked for you, the remembrance of your
efforts to gratify him, will send throu^^h your hearts a
thrill of satisfaction, which monarchs on a throne might
envy.
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