THE PAST AND THE PRESENT. A DISCOURSE, DELIVERED CEFOIIE TEE ra(D)g(D)]FeiI(S §®(GII]Ef ¥ OF THE UNIVERSITY O F ALABAMA. BY BENJAMIN FANEUIL PORTER. " Among themselves all things Have order ; and from hence the form, which makes The universe resemble God. In this The higher creatures see the printed steps Of that eternal vi^orth, which is the end Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean, On this their order, diversely; some more, Some less approaching to their primal source. Thus they to different havens are moved on Through the vast sea of being, and each one With irstinct given, that bears it in its course : This to the lunar sphere directs the fire. This moves the hearts of mortal animals This the brute earth together knits and binds." Dante — Paradise. Canto I. TUSKALOOSA : PRINTED BY M. D. J. SLADE. 1845. THE PAST AND THE PRESENT. BISCOURSE, DELIVERED BEFORE fffllE 11(D§(DIP]EII(G S^OEf Y UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA. By benjamin FANEUIL PORTER. " Among themselves all things Have order ; and from hence the form, which makes The universe resemble God. In this The higher creatures see the printed steps Of that eternal worth, which is the end Whither the line is drawn. All natures lean, on this their order, diversely ; some more. Some less approaching to their primal source. Thus they to different havens are moved on Through the vast sea of being, and each one With instinct given, that bears it in its course : This to the lunar sphere directs the fire. This moves the hearts of mortal animals This the brute earth together knits and binds." Dante — Paradise. Canto L TUSCALOOSA : PRINTED BY M. D. J. SLADE, 184 5. Erosopihc Hall, December 11th, 1845. Dear Sir : We have been appointed a Committee in bclialf of the Erosophic Society of the University of Alabama, to tender you their grateful acknowledg- ments for the very able, appropriate, and deeply instructive Address, delivered bj you before that Association on the occasion of its Fourteenth Anniversary, and to request a copy of the same for publication. Permit us to add to the uja divided wishes of the body we represent, our personal solicitations. We respectfully subscribe ourselves, Your's, «Scc. N. ALFRED AGEE, C. D. GRAHAM, A. H. HOPE, Hon. B. F. Porter. > Com VI i (rentlemen : Your invitation, on the part of the Erosophic Society, to furnish a copy of my Discourse, on the occasion of its Anniversary, for pubHcation, will be iComplied with, as soon as I can have it copicd- Bc pleased to return my tlianks to the Society, for the gracious estimate placed on that effort to serve its high interests; and receive, personally, the assurances of my Devoted respect, BENJAMIN F. PORTER. Tl'scaloosa, 28th December, 1814. (r Limmry* J DISCOURSE. A few facts, simple in ihemselves, but wonderful m their connexion and results, make up the entire history of man, and explain his relation to the planet he inha- bits. The earth, itself, is but a vast tomb of buried matter, man but the rudiment of a future. Both are destined to a more perfect and usefid state. The one to become the base of mighty physical changes, the other the source of moral and intellectual re- forms. If, on the one hand, all is destruction,, so, on the other, all is re-production. Nothing lives or pe- rishes without its purpose. No variation in nature oc- curs in vain. If fires burst forth from the centre of our globe, and heave, and twist, and break into frag- ments, immense beds of rock ; if the fountains of the great deep are broken up, and the winds rushing from their prison house, overturn the barriers between sea and land ; if empires are destroyed ; if whole races of men become extinct, and the records of their sci- ences crumble to dust ; — it is only that new seas and new lands, new races of beings, and new civilization, may rise in their places. All, from the land we stand upon, to the most refined intelligence, is in a state of progression. Each atom of existence forms a part of that great system, which evolves the destiny of man, and advances him nearer and nearer towards his God. There may be discovered in many of the writers and speakers of the day, a disposition to undervalue the times in which we live. They condemn the present, as degenerate, and mourn the future as beset with disas- trous revolutions. Even poetry and eloquence lend their aid to theabuse of every tbins; modern, Tbe orator, a- midst t'le ruins of Rome awakens generous sympalbies for her fate, and recalls the age of her Scipio and Mar- cellus. The Foet, at Marathon, narrates in plaintive verse the beauty oftlie Instituto is of Greece, and utters mournful judgments upon her oppressors. They forget, that the germ of a new being reposes in every perishing husk. The nations, the institutions, tbe men of one age, are but dead bodies to t!ie souls of succeeding times. Death is the sleep from which another exis- tence wakes up. Like the green Ivy, which reaches its utmost height only through time-broken cre^dces, each era lives and advances upon the ruins of the last. The flame which burned so brilhantly on the altars of the Grecian, it is true, is extinguished there ; but it en- liorhtens lands boastino- a more rational and wide- ly diffused liberty. The towers of the nodding Illion, it is true, cannot be traced by the traveler, and the Rome of Augustus is no more ; but the verse of Homer and of Virgil, and the history of the Gracchi and of Socrates survive: The Senate house and the hill of Mars no more sound to the voices of Demos- thenes and Cicero ; but their language still imparts lessons of eloquence, and excites eternal enmity to ty- ranny. The monument of art which once hailed the morning sun in mysterious tones, echoes now but to the labors of a Champollion and Rossellini ; but still it re- cords the vanity of man, and exists as the vindicator of the awful providences of God. It is folly, my friends, to regard as calamities, events, which give impulses tp religion, morals, the arts, and the sciences. In the his- tory of nations and men destroyed and dead, truth stands defined. Each existence as it passes away, is but the precurser of others, constantly throwing off their defects, and assuming nobler capacities^ in the wonderful plan of nature. When it is considered, that all the arrangements of this mighty scheme end, so far as we can judge, in this existence, with man ; that every revolution of mind and matter brincrs about some chanore in the condition of his life; that, as if to seize upon the moment of such change, still further to benefit his race, providence has endowed him with capacities of thought and language, superior to all animals ; it would seem that he would present, in every age, some distinguishing trait of mo- ral beauty. That there would be something apparent in his nature, at all times and under all circumstances, elevating him, in the pride of mental power, above in- animate and brute creation ; tnat his constant occupa- tion w^ould be to cultivate his nobler faculties, refine his intellectual gifts, and raise his moral far beyond the influence of his physical relations. But, alas ! in un-. folding the map of his history, we are humbled at the view of man's varied condition ; sometimes in the height of civilization ; sometimes in the depths of misery. The race, w^hether regarded as societies or individuals, appears to have reached certain eleva- tions, only to decline. From the rudest assemblages of robbers and outcasts, they have advanced to im- proved societies. Again these have become slaves of barbarians or remnants of scattered tribes. We have seen them rise great in the arts of war and peace, a- chieving splendid victories, attaining unlimited power, only to violate the rights of their associates, and waste, in the extravagance of a prodigal ambition, the blood of millions of men. We have seen the mass, at the bid- ding of one, no way their superior, except in fancied station or impudent enterprise, driven, in war, to the slaughter, like herds of unresisting cattle ; in peace, expending the labors of their generation, to sustain the glare aud consequence of a few interested rulers. Why this 1 Is it possible that man is placed on the earth for these purposes only 1 Is war his natural element ; a contest with his fellow men his pleasure ? Are fraud, hypocrisy, sensuality, his chief qualifications ? Surely not. The triumphs of vice and crim^e over virtue, the success of falsehood over truth, the advantage of pow- er over justice, are but convulsions of the moral world, fruitful in the noblest moral reformations. Man, the object of all revolution, constantly improves. In defi- ance of his opposition, nature vindicates her laws. Notwithstanding his destruction, all is life ; independ- ent of his sloth, all is progression. To prove these truths, go with me, if you please, in- to a detail of some of the physical and intellectual pro- cesses, through which the state of Progression, to which I have adverted, is unfolded. 1. The first evidence to which I call attention, is the phenomena presented in the structure of the earth. When we examine the composition and arrange- ment of the materials formincr the mass of matter on which we live, w^e discover rocks, minerals, and, in a popular sense, earths of various qualities. In some places we see a loose, red, brown, and while soil, crum- bled into powder, and forming the general surface- In others we find horizontal masses of rock spread out in strata or beds, one resting upon the other. Again, we see these strata twisted and raised up from their flat position, and cones of harder and chrystallated rock, in which no strata are discoverable, forced up through them. In some of these we notice remains of vegetable matter; in others of animals. In some places we find rocks rolled and.rounded as if by some violent action ; m others we see particles deposited as if by the gentlest motion. Cutting into beds of some rocks, we behold viens of metal injected into fissures. Often the rocks themselves seem melted as if by suppressed fires. When we descend into the interior of the earth, we have a sensation of heat increasing at the rate of one degree for every fifty feet ; when we examine its sur- face we find something like two hundred mouths vomit- ing forth internal fires. But to illustrate these phe- nomena further : — if we see in the bosom of the earth, a body of rock, not spread oat into layers, having the appearance of being once melted by fire; if this rock presents no sign of animal or vegetable remains, it is no strained conclusion, that it was moulded amidst in- tense fires, and surrounded by an atmosphere of too high temperature for the existence of organised life. Again — If we discover rocks of different chemical composition, lying in- strata, having the appearance of the deposits we now see formed from water, if of great thickness, and full of the remains of vegetables, — it is a just conclusion that these also are deposits from wa- ter, the work of ages ; and that heat and moisture, the chief conditions of vegetable life, prevailed. If in the strata of other rocks, we find the remains of organised life, which could not have existed in an atmosphere necessary to the vegetation last consider- ed, it'is but just to believe, that a lower temperature, 10 suited to their habits of life and capacities, must have existed. If coming nearer, in supposition, to our own times, we see evidences of ungovernable floods of water hav- inor rushed in manv directions, rollino^- frao:ments of rocks into globes, again reducing them to gra^^el, again cutting Grooves into granite — if we see remains of ani- mals of vast physical powers, whose existence could be safely subjected to an atmosphere of intense tem- perature, and then, after their races- had becom'e ex- tinct, we see the first proofs of man's appearance on the earth, can it be called a wild mental scheme to assert, that in different times and places, the earth was sub- jected to a deluge of water ; that physical life gradu- ally declined as a cooler atmosphere and other cir- cumstances combined, to prepare the way for a more intellectual being. Lastly, — if reviewing all these- things we find no- thing lost amidst the revolutions of earth ; if* lead, sul- phur, mercury, zinc, volatilized, or rising into vapor and floating in air, through the influence of heat, have on the cooling of the atmosphere, been precipitated on the earth, and by flei-y eruptions ejected in veins throughout the crust of the globe ; if fires or other causes, have raised up the mouths of these veins to ex- hibit their treasures and invite the labor of man ; if gi- gantic vegetation, produced by superabundant heat, and moisture, instead of being suffered to rot and pol- lute the ataiosphere, has been pressed down by super- incumbent masses, and, by the slow action of suppress- ed fires, consumed into coal; if animal matter, instead of sending forth, in dying, putrescent vapors, has been changed to saltpetre, bitumen, and other substances ; if 11 astronomical* calculations show that a mass of burning matter revolving for a succession of ages would assume the shape pf an oblong spher.e, oblate or flattened at the extremities of a presum.ed axis, the very shape of the earth ; if new mountains have risen from seas, and continents disappeared to give place to new seas ; if, in connexion with all these vicissitudes, the physical and the moral condition of nature has improved, what let us ask here, results from these facts and indications? Simply the truths of Geology — one of the most sub- lime, because fehe most natural of sciences; gne whose volume is the great globe itself, unfolding its noble pages of granite and crystal, and metal, as if to dis- close in characters of fire, the awful truths of nature, and reveal to the present age their once incomprehen- sible narrations. Such being the facts of Geology, such its evi^lences, such its conclusions, such its lessons of wisdom, go with me, if you please, through such further enquiries, testing its principles and inferences, as bear upon the plan and object of my discourse. 1. You are told by this Science that in the first epoch of the phenomena, the earth was surrounded by an at- mospihere too dense for animal life. The first enquiry prompted, is, Why should such an atmosphere exist 1 Various substances, such as water, lead, sulphur, mercury, and zinc, are easily reduced to an aeriform state. We have many chernical affinities to prove, that such substances must have existed in connexion with the earth, during the period of its primitive revo- lutions. Apply the chemical law, that the higher the temperature, the more rapid the evaporation, and it is evident, that the greater the heat of the surface of the crust of the earth, the more extensive must have been the volatilization of these substances. Thus was pro- duced the density of the atmosphere. 2. It is said, that the cooling crust, formed by the gradual retreat of the fires to the centre of the earth, continued to augment, as the cooling process advanced. Why should this mass augment 1 If the materials mentioned as producing, by volati- lization, a dense atmosphere, were kept by the high temperature of the earth in a sublimated or aeriform state, it f(il low^s that they w^ould be brought to their ori- ginal condition, through the influence of cold. The w'ater, lead, sulphur, mercury, and zinc, rendered aeri- form, by heat, assumed their first form, when that heat subsided. Too weighty to be kept in the air, they were precipitated on the earth, and thus they aug- mented its volume. When the t*emperature was still further lowered, water, permitted to remain in its liquid state, produced new accessions, by precipitation and crvstalizati-m. The materials thus cast upon the earth, in cooling, assumed various positions. Thus — the water is sepa- rated from land, and poured into permanent basins : the lead, sulphur, mercury, zinc, are branched off into arteries throughout the body of the rocks. Why this? A pressure of fluids, interior contractions, possibly the influence of electricity, induced ruptures of the solid crust of the earth. Thus deep chasms were formed, and the water deposited upon adjacent^parts, rushing to these depressions, formed lakes and seas. Internal fires, breaking forth from the centre of the earth, melt- ed rocks and metals, sent granites violently upwards through superincumbent materials, effused the fluid • 13 mass through various fissures of the reposing super- structure, and ejected the metalHc veins throughout the convulsed body of our planet. 3. It is further spjd, that the first organic develop- ments upon the crust of the earth, were an abundant and. gigantic race of vegetables,, to which w-ere denied, in a great degree, the means of re-production.* Why v^^as this ? We always find present in the atmospltere, a fluid known as carbonic acid. If the atmosphere were mixed with more than eight per cent, of this fluid, it would be unfit, for respiration, and therefore fatal to or- dinary animal life. Still, this fluids so deleterious to animals, is essential to plants, which absorb it by their leaves and roots. Another fluid, oxygen, without which animals cannot live, forms a large portion of the atmosphere. Now this, when vegetables decay, is giv- en to the atmosphere. Thus we see the existence of plants improves the atmosphere by disposing of the carbonic acid, which is fatal to the lives of animals, and renewing oxygen, without which they cannot exist. If we now suppose the presence of an atmosphere too highly impregnated witii carbonic acid for the exist- ence of animal life, and deficient in the necessary oxy- gen, we can perceive that the readiest w^ay of decom- posing th« one, and of supplying the other, would be the production of a race of vegetables. Now carbonic acid exists in the different varieties of limestt)ne, mar- ble, and chalk, and is separated by combustion. When * Cryplogamia, Linneeus — Class, Acotyledonous — Class, Monocoty- ledonous. 14 - • it is remembered that the secondary formations of the crust of the earth, were of rocks of this character, and that the earth's temperature was high, it is seen that an immense quantity of carbonic acid must have^been dis- charged from the earth, and filled the atmosphere with an element well calculated to nourish a numerous and gigantic race of plants. Looking into the remains found among the rocks of this period, we see that such a race was produced ; that it was limited in the capacity of re-production, and not suitable as food for man. This race seems, therefore, to have been formed for the sin-* gle occasion. While nourished by a superabundant carbonic acid, it consumed it, gradually reducing its volume, and thus preparing the way for animal life. 4. If the vegetation of which we have spoken, was designed for the occasion, of course, as the quantity of carbonic acid was thus gradually consumed, the vege- tation became useless. If it had died and rotted, new carbonic acid w^duld have resulted from its slow de- composition, and the end of its consumption been de- feated. How was it disposed of? 1. By Providence calling into existence, as we see by their various remains, a race of gigantic animals,* by their habits and capacities, adapted to the destruc- tion of vegetable matter ; and capable of living in an excess of heat and moisture, unaffected by ihe poiso- nous atmosphere of the period. 2. By producing various convulsions, submerging this vegetation under accumulations of mud and sand, subjecting it to subterraneous heat, and thus giving rise Palajolherium, Anoplothcrium, &;c. 15 to the strata of mineral coal, extending in beds of va- rious thickness throughout our own country and others, and supplying millions with fuel. What a beautiful illustration of the truth, that nature does nothing in vain ; determines that none of her works shall be use- less ; gives even to decaying matter its business and function in that . well organized machinery, which holds a world together in perfect and dependant har- mony. 5. Tt is said that all these phenomena depend, for the most part, on the destruction of rocks, the altera- tion of whole races of vegetables, the immolation of entire classes of animals. Why was this 1 The reply is in the soil, which is but the rotted rock, detached by air and water from the mountain, crum- bled and rolled into the cultivated valley. Again, it is found in the freezing water, which expanding, tears these rocks asunder,^ the better to undergo the pro- cess of decomposition. Again, see the answer in the coal beds, and metalhc. veins whose mouths are raised up and expanded to the view by heat and elec- tricity, and for the convenience of man ; in the salts re- sulting from animal remains, so necessary to the pur- poses of life, so extensively used in chemistry, the trades and sciences of men ; again, see the reply in the beautifully variegated marble of your pallaces and por- tico'B, the streaks and tints of which owe their beauti- ful combination to bitumen, the refuse of animal and Vegetable matter. Will it now be asked why did na- ture destroy all these, that man might live ? Has man, who asks the question, destroyed nothing, he who sin- gles out from the great scheme, a single exception on which to rest his objections to a Providence governing 10 a world of millions of beinos in numberless rela- tions 1 Will the effects of the slaughter of the hosts butchered for pride, ambition, and vengeance, compare with what the Ruler of the universe has brought forth out of his destructions? In the providence of God every thino- is useful. Nature illustrates, 'even in her desolations, the sublime sentiment, " From the tops of the rocks I see Him, and from the hill^ I behold -Him."^ Before leaving this interesting Science, permit me to indulge in a few reflections upon its wonderful adaptations. If the phenomena we have considered, were only partially developed, good grounds of objection to the science would exist. But on the contrary, every part of the world presents striking proofs, that the scheme supposed by its advocates is universal, and runs beau- tifully parallel with'the life and employments of man. Thus — In England, iron ore, coal to reduce it, lime- stone, used to fuse it, clay for the furnace, are found inter-stratified within short distances. The mountains of Sweden and Norway contain extensive beds of mag- netic iron ore : the only fuel fit for its manufacture, wood charcoal, nature supplies in immense forests of pines. All over the earth we find granites. This ar- rangement will not be considered without design, when it is stated on the authority of able chemists, that they are the natural depositories of the alkalies, so essential to the fertility of the soil ; so necessary to the support of both the vegetable and animal economy. Again, between animals and vegetables, there seems to be constantly going on a process, by which certain quali- ties are produced and assimilated. A table of these prepared by an eminent writer, beautifully exhibits 17 this " chain of vital phenomena." Thus— the vegeta*^ ble functions produce neutral azotised substances, fat- ty substances, sugar, starch, and gum : The animal functions consume them. The vegetable functions decompose carbonic acid, water, and ammoniacal salts, the animal functions produce these; the vegetable functions disengage oxygen, the animal absorb it; the first absorb heat and electricity, the last produce them ; the one is the apparatus of reduction, the other of oxi- dation ; the first is stationary, the other locomotive. — Is it more a draft upon the imagination, to assert that all these things were designed to prepare the earth and its materials for the abode of man, than to con- clude from the appearances of the monuments of Egypt or the sculptured walls of Petrse, that they were the work of human beings in a state of high mechanical improvement I II. We have so far traced the physical organiza- tion of nature. We have seen our planet a burning mass cooling gradually, and forming a crust upon its sm'face; we have noticed the first organic formations from the crude plant to the latest form of irrational animal matter. We have seen them produced and perish in their successions, and changed into rocky and mineral substances. Lastly, upon their tombs, we have seen man, an intellectual and moral being, ap- pear. Why does he live; why does he die 1 Man bears the relation to the moral world that the primitive rocks, the foundations of the earth, bear to physical nature. Both have been gradually develop- ed; both have served, in their turn, the eternal pur- poses of truth and justice. In the one case, we have seen the rocks raised up amidst awful convulsions, on- 18 ly to crumble beneath external influences and fertilize the plain ; we will now trace, in the other, the process of mental developments, as they have gradually, but certainly advanced towards perfection and usefulness. In this point of view, we proceed to institute a com- parison of various characteristics of the religion, phi- losophy, laws, scientific improvements, and social man- ners of the human race. • Among .various traits distinguishing the present, from past ages, we may mark, as most appropriate to our subject, the fact that every modern improvement, every new institution, every triumph of mind, indi- cates a remarkable adaptation to the useful purposes of life. We may therefore repeat the trite saying, that the age of chivalry and romance is gone, without mourning its absence. Endowed by nature with a peculiar veneration for antiquity, we all indulge our- selves in a species of poetic frenzy, with regard to the men and institutions of the olden time. This may arise from the fact, that our first conceptions of these are obtained in youth, when the mind, full of warm hope, and brilliant imagination, seizes hold upon the circumstances having a tendency to excite these fa- culties. A simple truth of history, like a single ray of light separated in the phenomena of polarization, thus produces various colors calculated to amuse the fancy. It is reserved for an age, deeply reflective upon the character of events to appreciate- the assertion, that taking the same number of persons, and separating from the history of former times their brilliant pageant- ry — Take from their religion, its superstitious horrors, and gorgeous ceremonies ; from war, its martial music and splendid decorations; from their orators, the oc- 19 casion ; and from their manners, their pleasures ; and' the whole scene in comparison with the habits and in- ventions and institutions of the last fifty years will fade like the evanescent cloud breathed upon a mirror. — We wish not to be understood as depreciating the facts or the men of other ages. On the contrary, we single out exceptions, and say, they furnish examples from whence moderns have derived many, very many of their best lessons, and most valuable principles in eve- ry branch of knowledge. We only say, that as a mass, men of this day as much exceed in mind and morals, those living two hundred years ago, as those living two hundred years hence, will exceed the present generation. For the proof, compare in the first place, the reli- gion of men. 1. That beautiful system of religious duty, so ex- tensively adopted by the civilized world, and so re- markably preserved amidstthe most extraordinary con- vulsions of time, has depended, for its propagation, upon the simplest truths. Unlike every other system, it has been established in peace; without force, and without money. No war, no human sacrifices, no po- litical connexions, lie at the base of its structure. Its promoters have been disinterested ; its sentiments couched in the sublimest simplicity of language. It has interfered with the authority of no government; with no man's social duty : It has taught obedience to the law ; embraced among its commands every regulation necessary in life; enforced benevolence; united the family circle; and even required the slave to obey his master. We are struck as we contemplate its history with two remarkable facts connected with its rise and 1 20 progress. *At first, we see it established in a part of the world, then the centre of civilization, knowledge, and power. We perceive a race selected for its pre- sei'vation separated by peculiar religious tenets and singular nationality from the rest of mankind. We see it preserved through various ages; and every eminent guardian or head of this race, devoting him- self to a propagation of its sentiments. The Jews, the depositories of this system, seem in all their history up to the time of Christ, to be the singular object of God^s providence and guard. If the Phoenicians threaten Palestine ; a Joseph rises in Egypt to give them an asylum; if subjected to persecution and oppression and change of religion there; a Moses comes to lead them to the sight of the promised land. If intercourse with strangers pollute the race, another descendant of the house of Israel appears to rebuild the temple on the simple basis of reason and faith. When, after a series of years, its guardians become corrupt and treacher- ous, again in the centre of population and civilization of that age, a new reformation occurs in Europe ; and when again Europe in her turn, becomes, by reason of her tyrannies, her civil wars, and her crimes, an unsafe depository, translated across the seas by a few deter- mined men, we see it spreading over a western conti- nent, and blessing millions in its progress. Here we may see, rising from the earliest ages, like noble granite formations, primitive truth ; which, through successive generations of men, and events of time, amidst the destruction of millions of human be- ings, the ruin of magnificent empires, aqd the changes of the face of nature herself, has overturned dynasties, outlived persecutions, stood firm over oceans of blood, 21 repelled flames, only to s]:)read upon- the bosom of na- ture the fatilizing mold whence man reaps the bread of life; only to pour the rich treasures of virtue over the whole extent of civilized lands. Now take in connexion with the objects and estab- lishment of this system, any of the ancient religions. View their unmeaning mysteries ; their senseless pa- geantry ; their horrid sacrifices ; their connexion with the most sensual and vicious pleasures. Take, indeed, the strange superstitions and wild opinions of their M^isest men. One declares that nature and chance go- vern the universe, and that all courage to support a renunciation of truth, arises from the excitement of a spacious theatre, and numerous spectators. Some, that matter, by viciousness, occasions evil. Others, that the divine influence extends in its full effect to the sphere of the moon, but acts feebly in inferior re- gions ; and others that God governs matters of conse- quence, but neglects those of small moment. Some deny altogether a God, but say there is a something without beginning or end; a pure spirit; a subtile mat- ter, an intelligent fire, which governs the universe. — Hear the divine Plato reasoning upon the creation. God he says is single, immutable and infinite. He ex- isted in the profundity of eternity : Matter, equally eternal, subsisted in fearful fermentation : At God's command the whole mass Vvas agitated by a fructify- ing motion : To direct the four elements he prepared a soul, partly etherial, partly material. Placed in the centre of the world it assumed a spherical figure, the most perfect of forms. It was well said by one, not supposed very devout, that the relii^^ion of some is in their minds, some in theii' 22 hearts. What clear ideas the ancients had of rehoion, was in their minds. It was reserved for Revelation to touch the heart. 2. Nor is the philosophy of the ancients less a sub- ject of comparison, in view of the question of utilitj^ What idea, w4iat clear conception of truth, what prac- tical benefit, arose from the various opinions of an- cient philosophers — some contending that fire is com- posed of pyramidical, others spherical particles — That the element of earth tended to the centre; the water to rise above earth, air above water, and fire above air. That nature acts by contrary effects ; that when earth loses its frigility it turns to fire; deprived of dryness, it is turned to water. Can any one in his senses contend that such idea^ as these, are entitled to any regard, when placed by the side of the well defined, simple rules of the philo- sophy of the present day ? Will the- vague notions of Aristotle, comjoare with those of a Cuvier, a Herchell, a Watt, or a Franklin? Will the opinions of even Plato, in the scale of human benefits, rank with the systems of Nev^^ton, or Lock 1 Will the idea of one, that man is an untamable beast of prey, compare, in just sentiment, and benevolent feeling, with the mind that animated a Howard? 3. We pass from these enquiries to a consideration of constitutions and laws. Take the case of Egypt — In Egypt all power of government was concentra- ted in a hereditary monarchy, which combined both civil and religious functions. If that country had judges and legislators, they were priests of a false re- ligion, dependant for appointment and compensation 23 on the pleasure of a King. The national tribunal was composed of men drawn from the same caste. It is easy to see that the political institutions of a country will be of the lowest order when administered by men whose station and pay depend on a head, himself the weak issue of hereditary descent; or a bold adven- turer, whose ambition is for conquest, whose pleasure is blood. Egypt, therefore, with all her numerous population, her learning, her resources, was wanting in that widely diffused idea of justice and utility which alone stems the torrent of luxury and arrests national crimes. She therefore declines and makes way for Greece. Greece makes one step in the system of government. She establishes a guard upon the power of public sta- tion. Solon, regarding taxation as the most dangerous of all authority, provided a check in the ratification of the people (Aristot. de. Rhet.) but that people were a lawless rabble, with no check upon themselves. He instituted lawgivers; but they administered the law. (Plut. in Solon.) He forbade the acquisition of lands by purchase or gift, and confined its acquirement to inheritance and marriage: — Thus he encouraged popu- lation, but crippled commerce, a necessary means of its support. The right of citizenship was dependent sometimes on proof of descent through two generations, (Heeren); sometimes on the fact that one was a for- eigner of influence. In this way the most valuable privilege which can be conferred by a State, was in- fluenced by fortune, not public services, or private vir- tues. With respect to representation, .instead of the only safe rule, that a few good and wise men should be selected to represent the mass, that mass itself, with all 24 its ignorance and crime, possessed an equality of voices in the legislative assemblies. Thus, folly and vice neutralized probity and wisdom. Boeotian dullness and Cretan falsehood, stood by the side of a Socrates, and destroj-ed the influence of his justice and intelli- gence. These and other defects, all exhibit alike, the inertness of rules, upon a mass, incapable of moral sentiment. The populace governed through fear, are dangerous subjects. Tt is the free, and virtuous, who can be trusted with power. Rome, during the periods of her kingdom, her re- public, and her empire, was constantly trembling with convulsions and deluged with blood. Still she ad- vanced in the knowledge of government and laws. The times were, however, not yet ripe for that moral developement in the minds of her people, necessary to insure a permanent and happy constitution. The most dreadful, but fruitless revolutions, therefore, soon sprang up in her bosom. If the violation of the chaste Lucretia induced the expulsion of a Tarquin, it was follo^ved by submission to an intollerani democracy: if the w^ronos done a beautiful and artless Viroinia roused the vigilance of sleeping liberty, it was only that it might- slumber, again, on the bosom of luxury and pleasure : if the pride of a plebian's wife induced the elevation of that class to public honors, it was only to exalt ignorance, and corrupt what remained of the innocence of humble life. The state of the laws of ancient times, also forcibly illustrates our position. These, like all human insti- tutions, have varied ; at one time challenging the ad- miration, at an another, the abhorrence of men, fre- quently surrounded with a venerable mystery, into 25 which the unprofessional eye has not dared to ob-^ trude; often displaying unmeaning and useless forms eliciting only the contempt of men. The antiquarian finds much that is curious and interesting, in the histo- ry of courts of justice and their procedure, as well as in the spirit of the laws of those times. The word court, for instance, synonymous among us with events and scenes of such familiar character, owes its name to the enclosed space surrounding the tent first, and af- terwards the castle of the Lord, when his retainers met to settle their controversies. In early times the Semnons held courts in a forest, consecrated by the Augurs; and Under the shade of a venerated oak, the Druids of ancient Britain administered justice. In Germany it was the practice of the peasants to assem- ble under a tree, and settle conflicting rights. "Upon a high place under the beech, a judge ought to hold his sittings." (Origenes du Droit Francais, Michelet.) These sittings were accompanied with singular cere- monies. One tribunal is said to have held its sessions in a boat, two hundred feet from the shore: When the judge pronounced sentence, he caused his right foot to touch the water. Justice was also, often, ad- ministered in caverns, and upon tombs ; still more fre- quently upon a mountain. Thus we derive the terms, "The mountain of right." "The rock of law and jus- tice." In Upland, the jury to decide causes, placed themselves upon twelve stones; often they sat in the court of the church, sometimes in the porch of the mill ; Under the Linden tree in summer, and within a mill or barn in winter. The prayer of a certain petition was, that a count would construct a mansion in such man- ner that neither rain or sun would impede the public 26 justice (Michelet.) In a direction given for build* ing the judge's seat, instructions were given to build up on three sides, with bars in front; lest some rude cavalier should violate the authority of the judge. The Areopagus, truly the most perfect of the courts of for- mer times, is often referred to as an example. But how shall we reconcile its incongruous judgments with the idea of law founded on reason and the rights of men. I will cite a few. A poor bird, from fear, had taken re- fuge in the bosom of a Senator, and was stifled by him. The assembly unanimously decreed his punishment; for said they, he who has his heart shut against pity, should not be allowed to have the lives of citizens at his mercy. A won^an was brought before this court accused of procuring death by poison. The proof was, that loving tenderly an individual, she endeavor- ed to gain his affections by a philter of which he died. She was dismissed without punishment, the court deeming her more unfortunate than culpable. On another occasion, a woman, exasperated at the barbari- ty of a second husband and his son, who slew a youth she had borne a former spouse, determined to poison them both : The Areopagus, after a long advisare, or- dered the prosecutor and accused to appear again be- fore the court, one hundred years from that time. But how shall w^e harmonise the judgments of these cases, in which nature and mercy softened the firmness of the judge, with that which I now relate? A leaf of gold having fallen from the crown of Diana, it was taken by an infant. The child was so very young, that it was necessary to make trial of its discernment. The leaf of gold, some dice €ind other play things, and a piece of money, were presented to it. The child gave 27 the pi'eference to the money, and the judges declar- ing this sufficient proof of capacity for guilt, it was put to death. Trials in the Areopagus were conducted thus: — Parties were placed amid the bleeding mem- bers of the victims, and there they took an oath, con- firmed by awful imprecations on themselves and fami- lies. Three thousand brass tablets were necessary to sus- tain the early statutes of the Senate and popular asseni- blies; some of which embraced a hundred chapters. Marriage was si'lemnised by presenting fire and water. Divorce by delivery of keys. Manumission was de- noted by a blow upon the cheek ; and one was forbid- den to commit a trespass, by the casting of a stone. A pledge or deposit was the clenched fist; a covenant, a broken straw; and possession of lands was made ad- verse by breaking a twig. Coming down later into history, we see not much to boast of, until after the age of Elizabeth. With our glorious Saxon ancestry, murder was not capital, but paid for in money. In 1600, oral testimony was ex- cluded from the trial of persons criminally charged, and even the appeal of battle existed to the year 1818. Jurors were sworn to speak, not to ascertain the truth. Evidence against a prisoner was taken in his absence. He heard the charge against him for the first time, when brought from prison for trial, and was then re- quired instantly to plead. He was not allowed coun- sel, and was frequently put to the rack to compel him to criminate himself Even the learned and virtuous Chief Justice Hale condemned innocent women to death for witchcraft, on proofs furnished by ignorance and superstition. 28 But I cannot expect you to bear with me while I press these illustrations further. Will any man, never- theless, pretend that, so far as stated, they do not fur- nish ample proof of the superiority of our own times, over all that have preceded it. Take a few facts in comparison. 1. With respect to government and laws — The principles of our social compact, our constitu- tion, and our laws are well defined, reduced to plain, unambiguous rules, and administered and checked in such manner, as to give a law and a remedy to every man, whether high or low. Public morals regulate the decision of the judge, and force him, even if a bad man, from his dependence, to decide the law correctly. A jury, of which the citizen cannot be deprived, stands between the judge and the accused, as well as the civil suitor. An appeal court, regulates the errors of infe- rior tribunals, and even the generalities of the law, are corrected by a court of chancery. 2. With respect to philosophy, science and the me- chanic arts. View the rapid strides of discoveries in these, and their application to the means of feeding and clothing men. A philosopher ascertains that sulpher, nitre, and charcoal, form a combustible substance — our ances- tors applied it to murder each other; we to the arts, Gunpowder blasts rocks, cuts through mountains, and excavates tunnels for the use of rail roads, and to sup- ply cities with building materials. Other instances- — one ascertains that steam is expansive, that thrown in^ to a tube in a particular way, it will move a piston rod, and produce action. On this a Fulton applies the principle to machinery, and a Watt builds a steam en- 29 gine. A plant is found bearing a wooly substance. — Whitney invents a machine, which on turnino a crank, separates the seed from the wool. A Hargraves in- vents a spinning jenny; a Cartvvright ihe power loom. What effect have these things had on the population, the wealth, the trade, the coiTxfort of the world? In 1790, one steam engine was erected at Manches- ter in England; in 1824, there were two hundred in operation; and in the British empire in 1837, 668 steam vessels. In 1807, one steam boat, "The North River," built by Fulton, ran on the Hudson m New- York. In 1838, there were 800 steam boats in the United States. The Mississippi valley alone employs now, six hundred steamboats, having an aggregate ton- nage of 130,000 tons, and navigated by 21,000 men. These boats are not worth less than $10,400,000, and are navigated at an annual expense of $12,000,000, while the value of merchandise embarked in them is not less than $200,000,000 annually. In 1831, steam was applied to locomotives on rail roads in this coun- try. In 1838, it was applied to vehicles on 1500 miles of rail way. The power of 501,898 men is now sup- plied by this power. In 1784 eight bales of cotton sent from America were seized at Liverpool, through distrust of their being produced here: in 1837 the Uni- ted States exported 444,211,537 pounds. In 1814 there was not a single power loom at Manchester; in 1824 there were 30,000 — and the total value of cot- tons manufactured in Great Britain now, is 34,000,000 pounds sterling annually; of which 10,000,000 are paid for wages, 4,000,000 for the raw material, and 20,000,- 000 for machinery, edifices, &c. In 1764 the popu- lation of Manchester w^41,032 , in 1831 it was 187,- alUl,63^ 30 0l9. In 1700 Liverpool had a population of 5,145; in 1831 it was 165,175. In 1780 the citv of Glasgow contained a population of 42,832; in 1831 it amount- ed to 203,000. In England tlie cotton manufacture furnishes subsistence to 1,400,000 persons. In the Uni- ted States, directly and indirectly, to 800,000 persons. As a most prominent instance of the improvement of the age, resulting from the influence of steam, let me refer you to one other instance. The town of Birkenhead (England) lies on the shore opposite to Liverpool, occupying the site of the an- cient village of the same name, Woodside, Tramere and Monk's Ferry. A century ago Birkenhead did not contain three houses ; in 1801 the number was sixteen; the next ten years added one more, and the ten that followed three, making the whole number of houses in 1821, twenty. Now there are 2300 houses. The works now in progress include a series of docks, tidal harbor, harbor of refuge, with beaching ground for small craft, a vast floating pool of 130 acres opening out of the tidal harbor, presenting a fine and water level of 800 yards applicable to the purposes of wharfs, yards, landing places, graving docks, warehouses and other incidents of a great mercantile harbor — a noble market and town hall, a railway tunnel, &c. Eight railways are to have their centre in Birkenhead, uni- ting with all parts of the kingdom; and the dock ac- commodation, as laid dftwn in the plans now in pro- gress of execution, exceeds in extent that of the first commercial port of the world. "Enormous streets," it is said, "have been projected, and duly sewered, pre- pared for water, and all the ^xuries that modern re- finement could conceive, More a single house was 31 erected." The sewerage so provided by anticipation, exceeds, it is said, m extent the entire length of sewer- age, contained up to this time in the united towns of'Li- verpool and Manchester; and in the very heart of their rising city, where the value of the ground may be reckoned by the inch — with a noble contempt of econo- my, in providing for the well being of the humble — the commissioners have given it away by the acre, to lay out an extensive park for the recreation of the la- boring man. Thus it is seen that anciently, moral as well as inen-. tal energy, like wealth, confined to a kw, slumbered without producing in the course of centuries, what is now, in the period of a few months, unfolded in the minds and occupations of the great mass. Therefore, industry is awake, because it brings fortune and honor to the laborer; ignorance declines, because education is more general , wealth is more useful because more extensively distributed. This being the state of our conclusions, it is time to ask ourselves, how are we affected, and what work shall we perform, in this state of material and intellec- tual progression? As we have advanced, we have seen nature devel- oped, destroyed, and reproduced. We have traced the progress of man in his government, his laws, his arts, and his philosophy. Shall we, by analogy, de- termine the character and destiny of that race, which stands between us, and the revolutions of a time equal to the whole past ? Observe :-^vegetables decay ; a race of minute animals soon quickens in the dissolving ma«5s. Observe these: — you will find them connected link by link with successive races, until the chain ends ^2 With man. Does man bear the same relation to other more perfect beings above, which he does to those less perfect beneath him? Is there a race yet to appear, whose intellectual and moral developments will as far exceed ours, as ours the Infusoria which our eyes be- hold agitating the putressent mass? Oh awful con- templation—Oh wonderful future. From it, let us turn, and be content to know ourselves — Know that as the rock which dissolves into soil at our feet, and produces the mould whence we reap our daily bread; and the insect that lives its wonted time and dies, to accomplish the work assigned it by their Creator; we have great moral and intellectual offices to per- form. Shall we in view of our high destinies lie dowir and care only for ourselves? Let each man be up and active in his appropriate sphere. Let not the advanc- ing age reproach us, that while the rocks, the minerals, the brutes, are active and busy in the great occupations of nature, man only is slothful, useless, and indifferent. And will any one say, "I am but a small part in the great system of the universe, — Let those who have ta- lents, and influence, and w^ealth, be the actors; I will be a passive spectator while nature advances in her truths, and evolves the destiny of the earth and of man." Nature will vindicate her laws on you who hold these sentiments. The decree will go forth — "cut them down, why cumber they the ground." There is no escaping the dreadful judgments visited upon those, who, having understanding, are sluggards in their times and opportunities. Over such a nation will be heard the wail of outcast freedom; from their women will go forth the shrieks which rose from the burning Isles of Scio ; from their men the lamentations of Persia S3 over her annihilated armies. War will desolate your land ; factions will tear into fragments your govern- ment; rebellion will defy your laws; disease and fa- mine will visit your people. « Crushed beneath the assailing foe Her golden head must Cissia bend, While her pale virgins frantic with despair, Through all her streets awake the voice of woe, And flying with their bosoms bare Their purple stoles in anguish rend ; For all her youth in martial pride, In battle slain, By Cycreas craggy shore forsaken lie All pale and smeared with gore."* But you will say what others have said — 'Our land is safe from this fate — our government, founded on a written constitution, cannot be violated without detec- tion- — our laws, within the control of the people, can always be corrected; our institutions free; our re- sources extensive ; our people intelligent — what shall harm us? This very self confidence will harm, and, if not checked, will ruin us. Free as we are, happy as may be our institutions, well defined as may be the laws, populous as is our country, there are loose and dan- gerous opinions sowing the seeds of dreadfully crimi- nal revolutions in the bosom of our country* They are seen manifested in the doctrine that what the people will, however destructive of constitutions, social com- pacts, private rights, public laws, must be obeyed by a public servant. Public servants owe a higher duty to the law, than they do to the people. "Obedience aFragments of jEschylus— The Persians. 34 is as much a duty, and rebellion as black a sin, when the people have the sovereign sway, as when a single person is King/'^ They are also seen in the opinion, that necessity justifies a violation of law; again, in that odious political maxim, that if to the interest of a par- ty, to support a bad man for office, the scruples of vir- tuous men of the party must yield; in the prostitution of the praise and abuses of the press; and in the vile and forever damned and damning sin and shame of re- pudiation, by a State, of its promises to pay a debt. We now ask, who are to assist in averting these evils, and who are to be looked to as leaders in the glorious work of improving the destinies of men? You, who annually meet to represent the sovereign interests of Alabama, nature calls on you for your part. Shall your time be spent in fruitless disquisitions as to who shall fill this office and who that 1 Shall political success alone distinguish you, the law makers and statesmen of your time? Shall the perfection with which you discipline your parties ; and the prosperity with which you imitate the policy of a Talleyrand, establish alone your title to a page of the State's his- tory? God forbid ! — see — social and individual happi- ness are gradually expanding under the benign influ- ence of knowledge and morality, and all nature be- speakingyouto become the protectors of virtue, of litera- ture, of science, and of the arts. Happy the age which exhibits its utmost strength in the cause of ethicks and mind. Happy the men who are patrons of the efforts producing new developments, in these attributes of hu- aUse and abuse of Parliaments. 35 man nature. Will you leave those who are to become the actors in the great business of the future, to strug- gle without aid, and without means, towards the im- proved condition of their day ? Look at the youth of the land now awaiting the action of the State, provid- ing for the universal education of her sons. Is it ne- cessary, at this day, to remind you, or to enforce by ar- gument, that the foundation of our government is virtue, that virtue springs from education, and that a state of ignorance is the worst of all states, a state successive- ly of superstition, barbarity, despotism, crime? Are there none of you proud of the patronage of the virtue and talent which will issue from the gallaries of this University? Are there none looking forward to the time when your memories will be blest as the consis- tent and popularity, sacrificing friends of an institution which nurtures youthful wisdom, and assists poverty, stricken genius 1 When a long line of illustrious men will claim their al?na mater here ; when a Socrates will die to vindicate truth ; when a Washington will rise to save a bleeding country; when a Franklin will exalt science and philosophy to the portals of the firmanent ; who would not be proud in the reflection, that he bore some part in the glorious patronage of their virtue, their patriotism, and their genius ? When some of these, before us, will prove the Howards of your country's charities, the vindicators of your religion, the martyred advocates of your political liberty. When your chil- dren will stand admiring, while these brilliant lights in the nation's history rise resplendent in their orbits, will they turn blushing from the pageantry of a na- tion's triumphs, and say, my parent did nothing towards all this \ Awake men of a meridian age — arouse states- 30 men and patriots ! A young and noble generation stands ready to receive from you, the trusts of the past age. And you, gentlemen of the Society, by whose com- mand I speak, you, who, at the portals of a new age, curb a generous ambition, and anxiously view the ground of conte&t before you, — Do not your hearts burn at the thought, that you stand one step nigher the future than ourselves? Think of that noble condition which awaits j^ou, when morals and mind shall receive new impulses in your time ; when science shall be pro- moted, the arts advanced, philosophy expanded, and human nature exalted. What part each of you is to act in the scene, may be of great moment to the world. Providence may be reserving you for stations further in advance of this age, than a generation may expect. To each of you nature gives a duty to be performed in the vast business of creation. Then press onward. You cannot stand still. You must either advance or recede, grow wiser and better, or more ignorant and vicious. Exert every nerve to know your part, and then perform it. Be neither ashamed of its humility, nor fearful of its responsibility. Some may get be- fore you — some may reach loftier eminences; but will you in mean jealousy and care-worn envy, retire from the contest of life, and fail in your part? If one is high- er in station, is he not still useful to society 1 Does he not add to that stock of knowledge and morals which blesses you in your generation 1 Reason, gentlemen, as well as the rights of men, alike reject the idea of personal distinction resting on gifts of fortune ; but if allowed so to express the thought, there must be an aristocracy of mind, there will be a nobility of morals, 37 there shall be a triumph of truth and justice ! Continue then, not only to encourage hopes of high stations in these moral and intellectual casts, but to deserve them. Explore, industriously, the mines of knowledge to which your studies here introduce you; and dispense their treasures with patient and generous labors to your fellow men. Gentlemen, I would leave an important part of my task undone, were 1 to close without reminding you, that however valuable may be the knowledge we have been conriidering, integrity is the best of its fruits. — Your pursuits have made you acquainted with many eminent men of ancient and modern times. Among them all we see a kw looming out from the darkness of ages of ignorance and crime, whose memories, men regard with most pious reverence. Are they war- riors, stained with the blood of many conquests; poli' ticians, famous for Machiavellian falsehood and treach- ery ; are they orators who have prostituted eloq^aence to purposes of oppression and injustice; judges who have sold the highest attribute of virtue ; priests, who have cheated religion of its vestments to mask the w^orst practices 1 Not so — they are those, who, like the pious and humble Stilling, have gone about, active in the business of devoting their talents to the good of men, physically and morally ; fearless in doing right, crying Jehovah Jireh — Like Socrates, justly called the most religious, the most virtuous, the most happy of men. I pity the man who can rise from the con- templation of this noble character, and not wish he w^ere a better man. Condemned, as you remember, on the falsehood of Melitus, he left the court for his prison, manifesting no alteration in his countenance or gait. 38 To his friends, who melted into tears, he said, "Why weep, are you ignorant that nature, when she gave me life, condemned me to resign it ?" To Appollodorus, who replied, that he mourned because he would die innocent, he said, "Would you, I should die guilty V Taking the cup fror.i his weeping jailor, he prayed to the Gods, and drank the poison. At the scene, dis- may seized his friends, and their lamentations broke forth. "For shame," said he, without emotion. "We are placed on the earth as soldiers, at a post assigned by their General. We may not quit our stations with- out the permission of the Gods, (but be ready when they call.) Resume your courage my friends. Death should be accompanied with happy omens."* Gentlemen, the period approaches when you will be called upon, under new auspices, to imitate the lives and deaths of such men. Look back a moment at their times and then at your own. Trace the pro- gress of man's mind during the intervening eras, and conjecture what will be its state, when, fifty years hence, you stand on the Pisgah of another age, and view the glorious scene beyond ; when pointing to ano- ther race, whom your talents and virtues have led on- ward in sight of new promised lands of knowledge, you will see the whole world spread out before you, encompassed by a more refined atmosphere, and still nearer, and nearer yet, approximating to the sphere of the Deity ; — Universal peace blessing its happy plains ; Religion resting on calm faith and unclouded reason ; Social life, a rational association of good men ; Poli- a Plato in Phaedon. 39 tics, Patriotism ; the Arts, usefulness ; and Literature, truth 1 Gentlemen, your lot and destiny, as I have said, may be important in the development of the scene. Be ready then to do all, and suffer all, in the cause of virtue and mind. Be superior to poverty, to pride, to indolence. Learn to love labor, it brings the bread that is eaten w^ithout dependence. Encounter ridicule with fortitude ; it schools true courage, and teaches patience. Shrink not from slanders and evil tongues ; they are the lot of merit, and the test of truth. Gentlemen, I take leave of you in the language of Socrates to his disciples — It is time that we should part — We to die — You to live. •\ P3 pss..^ %.J Wi mi i / JL(J„J«*-***1M^^^ / ^-«^.U^.,; \ I ! 1 V'-r-H J (P0n^^