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 L5U I ur v./\Liir"ORN! 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 AN 
 
 INAUGURAL DLSCOUUSE, 
 
 BY 
 
 SIDNEY H. MARSH, 
 
 PIUiSIDENT OF PACIFIC UNIVERSITY, OREGON. 
 
 BURLINGTON : 
 
 FREE P 1! K S S OFFICE. 
 
 1856.
 
 
 DISCOURSE. 
 
 Felloio Citizens : 
 
 To-day, Pacific Universitj commences its formal and public 
 organization, accepts publicly and solemnly its responsibilities, 
 and assumes a position from which there is no honorable retreat 
 After five years of preparation, of painful and strenuous effort? 
 this institution takes a step in advance ; the idea of education 
 has taken a higher form of development ; the Academy has 
 become the College. 
 
 This occasion, and these exercises, therefore, in some sense 
 inaugurate the Institution, and are of more importance than as 
 concerning an individual, or an individual's usefulness. To 
 speak, then, befittingly to the circumstances, to give utterance 
 to the thoughts and feelings becoming the hour, one should bear 
 all the joy for triumphs over past difficulties and for present 
 prosperity, all the hopes and fears for the future, in his mind 
 and upon his tongue ; joys, and fears, and hopes, great in pro 
 portion to the interests of education and learning concerned. 
 
 2722S0
 
 He must express the exultation of those who, looking back to 
 the childhood and youth of Tualatin Academy, rejoice at the 
 promise of its opening manhood, as public hopes give place to 
 public confidence ; while, in harmony with this feeling, he should 
 also express the desires and hopes of those, who, aware of the 
 difficulties and dangers that beset not so much its existence as 
 its usefulness, w"Ould temper ardent wishes with prudent fears 
 and cautious consideration. 
 
 And in such a strain of uttered feeling I would choose to ad- 
 dress you, gentlemen, and as rejoicing upon a festival, let the 
 feelings rule the hour, and find their most appropriate expres- 
 sion. 
 
 And what better suits our feelings for the past — in what fitter 
 mode can a considerate and thoughtful joy express itself, what 
 will give hope a loftier confidence, what nerve for more firm 
 and resolute endeavor, than a consideration of what it is, that 
 this and similar Institutions are established to realize, — what 
 learning and liberal culture are, and what the value of their 
 attainment. Let us then, with confidence in our convictions, 
 and sure of our experience of what knowledge is and does, re- 
 volve before our minds, the facts that we believe, the truth we 
 are acting upon, and leave to greater leisure and maturer de- 
 liberation to prove the one, or verify the other. I need to 
 invoke a muse but seldom called to venture thus to become 
 the oracle of the occasion. I need the confidence that strong 
 convictions can alone give ; and believe me, I would not ven- 
 ture to give utterance to the idea, out of which this and similar 
 Colleges grow as a tree from its root ; I would not attempt to 
 define the character of an undertaking in which the public are 
 so greatly concerned, if I believed that I were about to offer in-
 
 dividual opinions and not demonstrable truth, — truth which the 
 occasion makes appropriate, and which it is ^Yell to consider. 
 
 On the ground of the common want, which has led men to 
 seek knowledge and establish Institutions of learning, and from 
 the experience of the worth of the one and the benefits of the 
 other to individuals and communities, I should be wiUing to rest 
 all proof of the importance of learning, and of the means to sup- 
 port and advance it. Nor is this a feeble evidence. There is a 
 sure knowledge, compared with which all logical conclusions, all 
 theoretical statements are unsatisfactory and obscure. There 
 are truths that we believe and act upon, that in the extent of 
 their circuit can be touched only bj the constantly moving 
 radius of experience — experience defines by touching them — 
 truths which in their entire unity and completeness we never 
 comprehend, that like the circuit of the horizon are never ob- 
 scure, but nevertheless cannot be all at one time seen. There 
 are duties that we have found most advantageous, the reasons 
 for which we do not know ; fields of action most productive, 
 which we have inherited and cultivate as our Fathers did, we 
 know not why our lot is cast there. There is a wisdom that we 
 all have, that we cannot understand, that like a public fountain 
 supplies the can of every villager, and has enough even for the 
 thirsty traveller. There is a public and common stock of truth, 
 that like the common all sustaining air, we gladly and unques- 
 tioningly use, and never gainsay ; there are rich experiences, 
 of which each individual partakes ; there are deep convictions 
 of real and substantial good, which like the poet's inspiration, 
 we cannot all express, nor all conceal, which are all-powerful 
 with us, that control not merely momentary action, but life's 
 labors, and without which all our life would be even more help- 
 less and unproductive than it is.
 
 6 
 
 What could we unassisted effect, were we thrown into the 
 world without the guidance of those living ideas^ those strong 
 convictions of what is best, derived from former generations, 
 from the race to which vre belong, that direct our eftbrts and 
 control our plans, — ideas and convictions, whether imbibed with 
 our mothers' milk or developed bj external influences, that we 
 feel to be obligatory upon us — that, however originating, cer- 
 tainly owe their influence to our nature, and that we should be 
 unnatural not to acknowledge. Such is the truth of the worth 
 of learning. An undeniable impulse has driven man to seek 
 it, and there is an innate respect for it. "Whatever we may 
 define it to be ; whatever particular advantage we may ascer- 
 tain to accrue from it ; whatever power it may exert over the 
 affairs of men ; however its importance may seem to vary, and 
 its mere popularity wane or increase ; we still as scholars know 
 its real unappreciable value, that " its price is above rubies, 
 and that it is to be sought for more than hid treasures" ; and 
 all men still respect and desire it. And on such grounds alone, 
 satisfied with it for its own sake, and willing to labor for it for 
 its own reward, we would rebuke all impertinent questionings, 
 whether arising from the pride of ignorance, or the malignity 
 of that leveling equality -loving spirit that would bring all supe. 
 riority to its own level, especially the superiority of the good. 
 Surely wisdom should be justified of her children. 
 
 For after all, the essential of true learning is wisdom. For 
 the right love of knowledge originates in an innate striving, and 
 earnest aspiration after excellence, — through increased know- 
 ledge of the circumstances in which we are placed, and of our 
 own nature and end — a striving often manifested in all man's his- 
 tory. For from experience, felt within himself or observed in 
 others, the scholar, the true one, knows that its importance can-
 
 not be measured by all the aids that science has furnished iw 
 dustry ; that it is not proportioned to the pleasure that literature 
 and poetry afford ; nor to be valued by the consolations of 
 Philosophy. 
 
 There is a necessity which neither proSts nor pleasure can 
 satisfy, and for \Yhich all art and science are inadequate. It is 
 this want that true and genuine learning would seek to satisfy. 
 We need, as rational and accountable beings, surrounded by the 
 fogs of sinful ignorance, a light that shall dispel darkness. 
 Lost like a traveller amid the tangled jungles of tropical re- 
 gions, we need a guide to the mountain summits and the open 
 ways. AVe need a knowledge of ourselves and our circum- 
 stances, of men and things. We need the light that investiga- 
 tions into the laws of language and laws of thought may per. 
 chance give us. We need to know what principles, and whence, 
 have governed men in divers countries and different ages, and 
 under varied circumstances ; perhaps from such a study of Ms- 
 tort/ we may better know ourselves. These studies are indeed 
 valuable for other ends, but chiefly because they tend to satisfy 
 the craving thirst for knowledge, which our souls demand, not 
 for their pleasure, or temporary happiness, but for their per- 
 manent well-being. I know that there is much thought and 
 intellectual activity which does not, and cannot satisfy these 
 spiritual cravings, which is a wandering of the intellect to and 
 fro in the earth without any ascension above it. There is much 
 acquisition that is not true Jcnoivledge, much theorising that does 
 not really increase the insight. The history of literary men is 
 full of evidence of misspent power, power misspent for the 
 great purposes of thought, though not unfruitful perhaps in 
 inferior, temporary, and temporal good. We have painful evi-
 
 dences of the unsatisfactoriness of thought not rightly directed 
 in minds delicately organized, where the cause of need was 
 perhaps obscurely felt, where the insufficiency of all their efforts 
 wrung tears and groans, clothed tho' they were in the most lovely 
 garb of imagination and poetry. Such spirits have felt the in- 
 aptness of their own theories as an increase of their sufferings 
 and want. Their own thoughts have thus returned to sting 
 them, and driven like the daughter of Inachus, they have 
 sought in vain during a life of flight, a Prometheus to reveal a 
 future release from their sufferings. Such have been many 
 among the Germans, who have spent a life in theorising, and, 
 althou2:h ever unsatisfied with their own efforts, have still been 
 compelled to theorise right on. Such have been many among 
 the English, such, many among our own people, who like Shelly 
 and Keats, most sad examples, were " pard-like spirits, beauti- 
 ful and swift," who, " Actseon-like fled far astray, and as they 
 wandered o'er the world's wilderness, their own thoughts along 
 the rugged way pursued like raging hounds their father and 
 their prey." But such misdirections of power, such consequent 
 uselessness of knowledge for all its higher ends, far from dis- 
 proving its spiritual purpose, indicate rather the connection, 
 the dependance upon, the subservience of the intellect, consid- 
 ered as a faculty, to the spirit and its wants. For without somQ 
 spiritual initiative, all thought in the higher departments has 
 been ineffectual, and a life spent in theorising has produced no 
 enduring results. 
 
 The intellect as a faculty has a power of its own, and by itg 
 power over nature and the affinity of its laws with the Divine 
 Intelligence, proves the dignity of its possessor, and teaches us 
 to infer, what every man imtinctively believes, that the longings,
 
 the Instincts, and the wants of man himself, give the noblest 
 the only proper employment, for each and every faculty. Yes ! 
 the purest, the loftiest, the most stirring purpose, that which, 
 excites every faculty most fully, is to make ourselves better, 
 more divine ; — and in doing this, can we separate from us the 
 pov/er of intelligence ? or is the faculty of thought to be set 
 aside to perform some unessential function, or pursue some object 
 outside the soul, to be employed for some economical or second- 
 ary end — to reduce nature in its varied phenomena to scien. 
 tific laws — to write history to gratify our curiosity, or poetry 
 to delight us ? 
 
 There is an opinion that would sever thought from spiritual- 
 ity, knowing from being, and that consequently would confine 
 the intellect to certain duties of arranging and systematizing, 
 or limit it to what is called practical science. An opinion, the 
 offspring of modern infidelity and materialism, that, — while ig- 
 noring the spiritual divine calling and destiny of man, and 
 making him but little better than the brutes, — would degrade 
 the intellect to its service by a few flattering words, such as 
 practical utility, human comfort and happiness — words well 
 enough in their vray, — and the intellect, like a strong slave 
 galled by the rem-embrance of lost nobility and freedom, even 
 under these circumstances, asserting its higher dignity, has 
 astonished the v^orld by the vastness of its Herculean labors ; 
 by the glittering and gorgeous systems it has erected; by 
 the extent of its scientific excursions and discoveries. But in 
 all this display it has never been, in reality, half so august and 
 grand, as when employed in its proper sphere, and engaged in 
 subordination to, in harmony with, as constituent of, the rational 
 common sense, the religious sense of the race. True learning 
 2
 
 10 
 
 is far more than such intellectual activity, and the true power 
 of the intellect far more than such strength of mind. True 
 learning implies more than discipline of talents. It implies a 
 culture of the rational and more inaccessible powers of the soul* 
 It must affect the judgment, and the powers of imagination and 
 feeling, and the moral sense. It would more nearly conform 
 .0 Sir Philip Sidney's definition : That learning enlarges the 
 memory, enlivens conceit, and strengthens the judgment. It 
 is not the cultivation of a single faculty, but enlarges the being 
 and powers of the whole man. It pre-supposes the great essen- 
 tials of humanity, the religious nature of man, as well as the 
 faculties of the understanding. There is not a power that it 
 does not call into exercise and develope, and yet further, there 
 is no growth and development without it. It subordinates all 
 faculties and gifts. It is not therefore mere erudition, mere 
 acquisition, that we would call learning. It is by study, bi/ the 
 use of books, in which are recorded principles, either formally 
 expressed, or embodied in the varied forms of art. But the 
 end is the perfection of the man. 
 
 No ! It is for no low servile needs, much less for the lower 
 ends of pleasure or profit that the true scholar labors . Led by 
 purer impulses, he aims for the one the only end that is worthy 
 of human effort, that truth which, elevates by its possession, 
 which enlarges the being of the man, and makes him more con- 
 scious of what he is and what he may become, which makes 
 him truly conscious of himself. The true scholar, whether he 
 wanders amid the exuberant growths of [literature, or travels 
 along the strait, steep, rough road of pure science, or risks life 
 and health among the unhealthy bogs and treacherous quick- 
 sands of Philosophy and Metaphysics, has still the same high
 
 11 
 
 end in view — the lofty summits bathed in perpetual light— where, 
 as under some polar skj, he can see the sun go round and 
 round in undiminished unclouded splendor, and never set. 
 
 Such a view of learning, as having a spiritual, a religious 
 purpose, is verified bj the fact, that the great teachers among 
 men have always made the investigation of moral and ethical 
 questions, the great object of their teaching. Among the 
 heathen even, we find this religious aim of thought acknowledged 
 more or less consciously. The heaven-descended gnothi seauion 
 was accepted as the great end of study — and Plato, " the 
 Attic bird, that in the olive groves of Academe, trilled his 
 thick warbled notes the Summer long" — Plato after years 
 spent in visiting the most famous resorts of learning, returned 
 to Athens to instruct her sons in moral truth, and by a logic 
 quickened and guided by exalted ideas in the master's mind, 
 to aid them both to discern " the true, the beautiful and the 
 good," and also to detect the sophistry and lies of those false 
 guides, who would increase the power of evil passions, and of 
 the evil heart, by false theories, and obscure the true beauty of 
 virtue, by setting up the false splendor of their sophistical and 
 inconclusive reasonings. In the middle ages and at more 
 recent periods, the revival of letters has been contemporaneous 
 with a deeper religious fervor, and, in all times, those learned 
 men have been esteemed the greatest, — not perhaps the most 
 erudite, but the greatest, — who have carried into all their studies 
 such an exalted religious purpose, and have made it the con- 
 trolling power in their lives and labors as scholars, as well as in 
 the ordinary walks of life, ever keeping in view truth as their 
 end. 
 
 It would be wrong to infer that such a controlling, pervading
 
 12 
 
 feeling, such a sincere and earnest seeking of truth, is at vari- 
 ance with anything intrinsically beautiful or really strong and 
 excellent, or opposed to any true and legitimate impulse of 
 undepraved humanity. No : it could hardly be, that that 
 which improves the general health, should be unfavorable to 
 the health of any function, that the whole man should be aroused 
 to the greatest exertion, and any faculty be lethargic. None 
 are so quick to perceive, so apt to appreciate all that is beauti- 
 ful in Art, or elegant in Literature, or profound and accurate 
 in Science and Philosophy, as those who seek knowledge in its 
 highest and purest sources, who are most imbued with the true 
 spirit of the genuine scholar. 
 
 I know that in thus representing learning, I am speaking of the 
 ideal rather than the actual, of vrhat sJiould he, rather than of 
 what is. I do so, because the ideal r,iust alivays control the 
 actual, if there is to he any right acting. There are no schol- 
 ars that are entirely actuated by such pure motives and im- 
 pulses ; there are none of whom it can be said, that all their 
 knowledge has increased toisdom, and in whom all acquisition 
 goes to the building up of the symmetrical man ; very few of 
 whom it can be said, that all their knowledge tends to edifica- 
 tion. And yet, all will admit that it is only as knowledge, (as 
 was said of Chief Justice Story,) has descended from the memo- 
 ry to the judgment, that it is of real value. All that is truly 
 valuable in what is called learning, is really so, only as it be- 
 comes in the soul practical wisdom. It is this ideal of excel- 
 lence as the reward of labor, that in all the really great, who 
 have been benefactors of the race, — this ideal, as an " aliquid 
 immetisum infinitumque,'" that has impelled them to become 
 such.
 
 13 
 
 The depravity and -wickedness of man lias always led the 
 many to turn away from the excellent. Yet what should be the 
 great purpose of man as man, is still the means of, an instru- 
 ment in the scheme for, his restoration. Our fall and the 
 curse of sin did not extend to a degradation below the human, 
 and the acts and exercises that become the undegenerate, and 
 the spirits of the just made perfect, are still the acts and exer- 
 cises that become man even as he is. It is only as we look at 
 all human purposes and modes of action in the light of man's 
 proper humanity, that -we can determine them at all. We are 
 otherwise as unsettled in our principles as we are deficient in 
 our lives. There is no progress without true knowledge, and 
 on the other hand, thore is no true knowledge without progress. 
 
 Such views of knowledge are not mere abstractions. Fxcuse 
 me, if I have seemed to refine statements too far, and to have 
 darkened truth with words. My purpose has only been to 
 limit and define it. For it is not a theory but a practical truth, 
 that works out into most important and strictly consequential 
 results. However dark the root, the flower opens to the day. 
 For, while it affects at once all our modes — our whole system 
 of instruction, — it gives a dignity and excellency, a deep im- 
 portance, to the whole subject of education, and exalts it at 
 once to the highest position. It affects our system and our 
 modes both positively and negatively, by making some things 
 necessary and rejecting others as inexpedient to the end de- 
 sired. It affects positively by requiring that the studies shall 
 be truly educational, that is drawing out and not cramming in, 
 as is too frequently the case. That the whole tenor of them shall 
 be especially to make thoughtful men ; men who will seek to 
 find the principles that govern and the laws that control ; that
 
 14 
 
 cannot act from impressions, or be unmoored from all tlieir 
 fastenings by excitement, and carried away by an opinion 
 framed for temporary convenience. It requires a system that 
 shall make men of liberal views, and at the same time of decided 
 and established character. It would make our Colleges and 
 Schools subservient not merely to the State, to a party or sect, 
 but first of all to truth and to God. In our country its influence is 
 especially needed. Here where are so many parties, and where 
 the contest for party power is terrible in its effects, upon even 
 the highest and most sacred interests ; where party rage like 
 the Titans of old, seems ready to scale heaven itself; where 
 every institution is liable to its depredations, and nothing is so 
 sacred that it can hope entire exemption from the pollution of 
 its touch ; where the best men are dragged into p)arty measnres 
 even against their will ; any system or institution will be seized 
 upon, even though the last hope of the Church or State, if for 
 one instant it is severed from, not protected by the active and 
 vigorous life and strength of the principles on which, and for 
 which, it was established ; if there are not intelligent friends 
 who understand its true character, and will exert efficient 
 energy in preserving that life and strength healthful and un- 
 impaired. To-day in many of our States, this idea seems to 
 have left the guardians of the common schools, while a new in- 
 terpretation of their purpose is presented and urged by a pow- 
 erful sect, sustained by others for party ends, — that schools are 
 to educate citizens, and that consequently all that does not fit 
 a man for what are commonly considered citizen's duties, to 
 pursue the common avocations, and fill his place in a particular 
 sphere, is unnecessary and to be rejected. As if such a partial 
 education could be given without detriment to the State — which
 
 15 
 
 demands vjJiole men, fully gro^yn, of the full stature of all manli- 
 ness and virtue, as her citizens, that she may unfold all the ex- 
 cellence and glory of a perfect common^Yealth. And the first 
 step in furtherance of this view is to banish the Bible and 
 prayer : both of which, in the view of wisdom and experience, 
 have been deemed essential to a school system. For no book 
 is better fitted than the Bible to exert the highest educational 
 influence ; and so far from being rejected, should rather be 
 more intimately used in the details of an educational system — • 
 " Since no book contains more profound history, more sublime 
 poetry, more accurate and discriminating biography, than the 
 
 But it is when these ideas of learning are carried out fully 
 in instruction, — when applied by the discreet and experienced 
 teacher, not only to afiect a limited system, adapted to or re- 
 strained by external necessities, as is the case with our common 
 schools ; but to give life and character to a system, Avhich aims 
 at the realization in others of all that true learning can bestow ; 
 when applied in the education of the choice spirits, " Who in 
 the prime of early youth, wisely have shunned the broad way 
 and the green, and labor up the hill of heavenly truth," — it is 
 then that we should expect to find in the results, an evidence 
 of the intrinsic worth of learning. 
 
 The University and College systems are avowedly for the 
 accomplishment of this object. They are to advance true learn- 
 ing — they acknowledge no other end. Still they do not in any 
 case fully meet the requirements of the ideal, which neverthe- 
 less pervades them. In this country they are cramped with 
 poverty, and in the hurry and rush of men for the spoils of 
 wealth and power, they find few who will heed their counsel, and
 
 16 
 
 follow far enough in the pursuit of knowledge. And in Europe 
 the systems, though grand and well nigh perfect in their design, 
 have fallen in too many cases into the hands of false friends, or 
 false enemies — and been turned hke a destructive engine 
 against the cause they were designed to aid. But imperfect 
 as they have been, their influence has been vast enough to 
 justify our judgment of their importance. 
 
 In every age, instruction given by the wise and good has 
 been productive of most beneficial results, sometimes staying by 
 its warnings even the downward heedless course of a sensual and 
 headstrong people, — and gilding with the splendors of philoso- 
 phy the rough iron of a tyrannous period, or as its greatest 
 blessing, leaving the truth either grafted into" the minds of a 
 silent few, to " grow there and to bear," or deposited in books 
 a most precious legacy to future generations. But in modern 
 Europe, for the first time, systems were established having in 
 view this religious, this Christian end of learning — that, adopt- 
 ing whatever of value was left from more ancient times and 
 systems of mere discipline, still kept in view the higher pur- 
 poses of knowledge. 
 
 And what is there of value in modern society and civiliza- 
 ation, in Church or State that does not owe much of its excel- 
 lence to them ? The great principles of civil liberty originated 
 in the thoughtful minds of the scholars of Europe. It was in 
 those same resorts of learning too, that not only the true prin- 
 ciples originated, but there, in contact with the wisdom, experi- 
 ence and recorded greatness of the past, men learned to love 
 the truth so as to live by it, and when called upon, nobly to die 
 for it. The first great martyrs of truth in the middle ages, 
 men whose burning kindled a fire that all the blood shed by
 
 IT 
 
 tyrants has not been able to extinguish — men graduates ot 
 European Universities. There too the same love of truth oris- 
 inated and maintained in spite of persecution, the importance 
 of free discussion and the right and duty of independence in 
 thought and opinion. 
 
 Literature, Science, Government, Philosophy and Theology, 
 all acknowledge in Institutions of learning their fostering 
 mother. And not these departments of study alone — but the 
 society itself in which, as in their soil, they grow, owes its char- 
 acter and constitution to the practical truths which have thus 
 been placed in it, as the suitable elements to support the growth 
 of virtue and public civility. And how was this done ? By 
 rules published authoritatively ? by written statements or learn- 
 ed discussions ? So in part — but mainly by living examples, 
 living oracles : by meii exhibiting the results of a noble and 
 manly culture. By men, who, trained in the retirement of a 
 College, during the period when their character and principles 
 were forming, went down into the active scenes and affairs of 
 common life, to the Senate and the Bar ; into the pulpit, and 
 to the walks and pursuits of science, and to the common sta- 
 tions of usefulness, armed with truth and equipped with j;n'na- 
 ples in the intellect and the heart. Men quick to perceive, 
 wise to judge, prompt to act, patient and resolute to endure. 
 Whoever else may have been distinguished — whatever other 
 characters may have acquired in those celebrated institutions 
 power for mischief instead of good — still history will confirm 
 the /act — the exceptions at least do not disprove the rule, — 
 that true men and their influence have far exceeded the evil. 
 Who shall measure the influence of such profound and cul- 
 tured minds, through a long life vigorously active upon other 
 3
 
 18 
 
 minds ; what fields are not now blooming, or growing golden 
 for the harvest, of which the original seed came from some good 
 man's hand, it may be, ages since. For any truth, any princi- 
 ple once expressed, has an abiding ceaseless power whose con- 
 sequences shall extend to the end of time — and beyond it. 
 
 In our country the results of the college system have not 
 been different. Indeed our Colleges have been more entirely 
 imbued with the idea that has been expressed, than the Uni- 
 versities of Europe. The great object of fitting men for prac- 
 tical duty has been more definitely avowed. The call for men 
 to the work of life has been indeed so great, that it has been 
 difl&cult to restrain the young long enough to prepare them for 
 the responsibilities that here more than elsewhere press upon 
 active laborers. But where, after all, have there been men in 
 whom learning has more completely perfected its design .'' 
 Where, those in whom there has been such complete harmony 
 between acquirements and gifts, between exalted power of mind 
 and simplicity of character ; where, men imbued with more real 
 practical wisdom, whose real greatness as far exceeds in splendor 
 the flashy smartness of mere talents, as does the light of the 
 Sun the star that shrinks at its approach ? So universal and all 
 prevalent with us is this influence of Institutions of learning, 
 that we are hardly aware of its extent and power. But the 
 watchful observer from the facts around him, and the philosophic 
 thinker from the operation of known laws, would rightly infer 
 that all that we most value in the present, and are most proud 
 of in the past, and all that furnishes a rational ground of hope 
 for the continuance of our blessings, and the future progress o^ 
 our people — that all this has been, and must be, more than 
 to any other instrumentality, due to our American Colleges*
 
 19 
 
 And how can it be otherwise, if they are the nurseries of know- 
 ledge and wisdom as we have supposed ; — is not wisdom to be 
 esteemed pre-eminently the stability of our times, and must 
 not such an influence be felt from the hundreds of young men, 
 who yearly go from college to the utmost corners of our land ? 
 They carry principles and truths, which by contact merely 
 would be felt, acknowledged, adopted and applied, and would 
 become operative for permanent good. But when enforced 
 from the pulpit, sustained by the courts, taught in our schools, 
 and disseminated by the press, they become the controlling 
 principles of society 
 
 In this Institution we humbly hope, that this idea of a true 
 and manly culture may be realized. It is a purpose which 
 calls for all our energy, a design large enough to employ all 
 our philanthropy. Were it merely to teach the sciences and 
 formal knowledge — to lead the young and susceptive mind along 
 flowery walks to the grander and more sublime aspects of liter- 
 ature, poetry and science, its establishment would be of interest 
 and importance. But when we consider that the design in- 
 volves not only the discipline of talents, but the evolution of 
 character, — when it is remembered that young men, the choice 
 spirits of the land, the hope of the country, are to receive both 
 the preparation that shall make them good soldiers in the battle 
 of life, and the skill to manage the evolutions, and control the 
 movements in the conflict — that to make MEir, and not mere 
 scholars is our purpose — that this is not with reference to this 
 class or the next, but is to be a continued influence when the 
 grave shall have received all of us — when we think of the 
 place, the time, and the circumstances — that we, here, almost 
 within hearing of the roar of the Pacific, in this land so recently 
 
 272280
 
 20 
 
 a wilderness ; tbat wc, ilie first, not in liaste, but with delibera- 
 ation, and to meet the exigencies of the country ; not heedless" 
 ]y, but prayerfully, are publicly organizing a College — wc 
 feel that neither energy nor philanthropy nor any human 
 power can suffice to accomplish Avhat is undertaken. We feel 
 it a privilege as well as a duty to be able to commit tbis Institu- 
 tion, consecrated in its infancy, now, in the first flush and 
 vigor of manhood, to that God who has guarded and guided, 
 and who will, we hope and pray, yet crown it with his praise. 
 
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