21

it as one does what he is glad to do; he did it fully and unreservedly.
And then he indulged himself in being kind, benevolent and
useful, to a degree in which if I were to speak from my own
experience or observation, I should say he was surpassed by no man.
There was another point in his character, in which it seemed to me he
While he exacted prompt and full obedi-
was somewhat remarkable.
ence from all those from whom he was entitled to expect it, I never saw
in him the slightest approach to a demand of submission from any
who did not stand in relations which gave him or seemed to give him
a right to it. If I may again refer to myself, I should say that no one
more perfectly respected my freedom of thought, utterance, or act,
than he did through the whole of our long intimacy. On many points
we differed greatly; but he never, in the slightest degree, presumed
upon our friendship or upon his kindness, to play the master. Still,
in any case and in any degree in which he thought he should be
master, he would be.

Of his public relations you knew more than I did. Of his con-
stant endeavors to promote whatever seemed to him the interests of
sound learning; and of his sagacious and generous aid to the great.
cause of education, you will speak fully.

He was not himself eminent as a scholar. But he was well edu-
cated, and read a good deal; and read thoughtfully, and with wise
selection; and profited by what he read; and many pleasant conver-
sations have I had with him on topics which his reading suggested.
But he was not a scholar; and no man was ever further from a false
pretense of scholarship.

During many years, he was the man whom I most consulted when
I wanted advice on almost any subject, especially if of a practical
character. More than any other person whom I have known he
seemed to me to reconcile the antagonistic qualities of boldness and
I said to one who was intimate with both of us,
caution. Years ago
that Mr. Dwight was a living proof that phrenology-as I understood
it was entirely mistaken in identifying fear with caution, by ascrib-
ing both to the same organ. Be that as it may, (and I am no phrenolo-
gist,) I never knew a man who was more cautious than he appeared
to be at all times and on all occasions; but I never knew him to
manifest any thing like fear. I mean that he decided slowly, and af-
ter a careful weighing of all the reasons which a very wide and far-
reaching view of the subject could suggest. But fear never came in
to cloud his insight, or disturb his conclusións, or obstruct the execu-
tion of his plans. How he was to others in this respect, I can not
say. I knew him but in few and limited relations, although I knew

1

him so long and so well; and can only say that to me he seemed eminently, a man who did not make mistakes. And I have supposed that his great success in life was built up, step by step, by the same combination of caution and courage, of sagacity and executive force, which I thought I saw him constantly manifest.

If I speak of him with what may appear to you or others undue commendation, let me at least assert, by way of apology if one is needed, that during a very long period he had been kind to me always; and as kind to me as was possible; had never exacted from me or seemed to desire any other return than that of an equal friendship; and that in all this I am describing, not a day, nor an incident, but thirty years.

I am, Dear Sir, your friend and obedient servant,
THEOPHILUS PARSONS.

As I was

P. S. I wrote the above this morning in my office. writing the last words, my friend and colleague ex-governor Washburn came in, and I read the letter to him, because I knew that he too was intimately acquainted with Mr. Dwight.

"I am delighted," said he, "that you have written just that. It is all of it his due. I knew him well more than a quarter of a century; and was in the habit of frequent and confidential intercourse on many topics, and especially on many of a public or legislative character; and to the extent of my own knowledge and belief, I fully indorse every word you have said of him.”

NOTE.

"A DEBT OF GRATITUDE.—About seventeen years ago, two graduates of Harvard College, who had resolved to enter the Christian ministry were at a loss for the requisite pecuniary means, and had decided to delay joining the theological school, until they had, by their own earnings from teaching, or some other occupation, procured the needed amount. An offer from a secret source was made them of a sufficient sum to meet the expenses of the school, if they would immediately enter upon its duties. The offer was accepted, and exerting themselves all they could to aid themselves and lessen the burden upon their secret benefactor, they found always a sum adequate to their needs, ready for them at stated intervals. They completed their studies, and have now been for many years in the ministry, happy in its labors, and grateful for its privileges.

The writer of this note, one of the two, was long wholly ignorant of the source of the opportune bounty; and when the name of the giver was accidentally discovered, it was under such circumstances as forbade even a word of gratitude, as the communication was made to the informer on condition of secrecy, and this condition, though not rigidly observed by him, could not but be respected by the party thus informed of the kindness of a benefactor who insisted on remaining unknown.

Death has now removed this condition.

Deprived of every other opportunity of expressing his feeling, a Christian minister who has enjoyed much in his profession, takes this method of paying something of his debt of gratitude, and thus adds his humble offering to the numberless tributes due to the memory of Edmund Dwight."

[This letter was written by Rev. Samuel Osgood, D. D., of the Church of the Messiah. Ed.]

II. PUBLIC PRAYERS IN COLLEGES

BY PROF. F. D. HUNTINGTON.

IN all the principal seats of learning in the United States there is a daily social service of devotion for the students. We are not aware of a single exception to this religious usage. There is doubtless an extensive and spreading impatience of religious forms; there are tendencies in American society and in our political institutions which operate to heighten this jealousy; there are habits of speculation which foster distrust of everything like constraint or fixed ceremony in the concerns of faith; even among some avowed Christian believers, and in the name of a special spirituality, there exists a theory that every exercise of worship is false which is not strictly spontaneous, and accordingly that to compel attendance on a prayer is both an absurdity in administration and an affront to piety. But, thus far, these views have not, where our knowledge extends, organized any considerable seminary, for either sex, in which the inmates are not regularly assembled to own their daily dependence on the Almighty Father, to confess Christ, and to implore the gifts of the Spirit. Whatever the notions or doubts of educators may be, it seems to be practically felt that some sort of moral power is lodged in such an observance. An indistinct sense lingers in the mind that somehow the interests most sacred and most prized, in these assemblies of youths, are at least safer with it than without it. Whether its essential spiritual comeliness and dignity are generally recognized or not, the venerable traditions of Christendom sustain it and demand it. To a literary institution wholly renouncing it, the community would find a grave difficulty in continuing its confidence.

With the right-minded guardians and officers of education it becomes a vital and important question, how to conduct these exercises so that they shall fulfil the manifest purpose of their appointment; have a spirit as well as a shape; bring a devout sacrifice as well as a bodily attendance; diffuse a hallowing influence over the restless and eager life congregated there; awaken strong resolves and pure aspirationa, call down the answer and benediction of Heaven. In many

instances, as we have abundant reason to believe, the method is far from satisfactory either to those that listen or those that lead. Sometimes the whole performance appears like a performance merely, — a mechanical repetition, a lifeless routine, negative at best, a scenic exhibition, too familiar to be interesting, and too bare to be beautiful, -a simulacrum. But it is instantly known that it cannot be that, without being something worse than that. Professing to be communion with God, the highest and holiest of all acts of which man is capable, the moment it degenerates into a heartless function it falls below respectability into profanity, becoming as offensive to the Omniscient Majesty as it is irksome to the compelled participators. Sometimes the occasion is one of listlessness. Sometimes it is a scene of positive disorder. So many are the elements to be reconciled, in fact, and so delicate the conditions of a sacred success, that it may be said, we presume, without hazard, that the result is very rarely all that is desired.

Perhaps the first condition of any adequate benefit from the service is that it be treated by all that are responsible for it as a reality; as what it pretends to be; as real prayer. After all, to a striking degree, the tone and manner of a whole institution will insensibly take their character from the manifest spirit and bearing of its principal conductors. Let it be plain to every hearer and witness that in these gatherings there is more than a pretence of praying. Let it be seen that in one at least, in him who is speaking, and in as many as do truly accompany him, man is verily speaking to his Maker, and speaking in an humble expectation that he shall be heard ;-telling his real wants, acknowledging sins that he really deplores, breathing requests for helps and blessings that he really desires. A nameless power and impres sion will inevitably go with such devotions. Artifice will be driven out. The ingenuities of invention, in thought or phrase, will never so pass the line of simplicity as to trespass on the awful sanctity of the Ineffable Presence invoked. Excess of human elaboration and indolent neglect are equally alien from a veritable intercourse with the Father of spirits. And nowhere is either error more likely to be seen through and despised than in an auditory of young men. Their quick moral instincts, and their yet unperverted habit of judging without the bias of a mere current and institutional propriety, render them accurate and searching critics of sincerity.

Were the modern naturalistic theory of prayer and its effects to be generally accepted, our suggestions would, of course, be impertinent. That theory, making all devotion not only dramatic, but illusory, and ascribing all its apparent effects to a reäctionary excitement of

the worshipper's own faculties, turns the idea of reality into ridicule. We are to go through the genuflexion, the mumbling, the expectant posture, the use of the vocative case, the solemn tone and pleading cadence, and measured form of stately language, just as if God heard and might answer, but with a perfectly cool private understanding of the philosophical mind, all the while, that the display is purely scenic, the Deity himself being as much removed from the transaction as he is from the praying-machine of the Eastern idolater. Indeed, is there a Deity left? Where is he? What is his care for his creatures? Of what nature are those affections that enjoin prayer as a duty, under a promise that it shall be heard, only to cheat first the credulous intellect, and then mock the disappointed heart? This cannot be the God and Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who was so wonderfully and tenderly revealed to his children, when it was affirmed of him that he numbers the hairs of their heads, and notices the fall of the sparrow, and who has compressed the whole mystery and rationale of prayer into the one gracious and eternal pledge, "Whatsoever ye shall ask, believing, that shall ye receive." Nothing can more effectually dissipate veneration and explode worship, whether among the young or the old, than this superficial and impious interpretation, which is offered by some nominal teachers of the Bible to their pupils. It justifies the worst sneers that recklessness and infidelity have thrown at a histrionic, hypocritical priesthood. It is as short-sighted and self-contradictory as it is insulting to our manhood. If we are to pray only to warm our emotions, kindle our energies, elevate our mood, under the delusion that we are heard, as by a fetch, while He to whom the offering professes to ascend sits with sublime unconcern in a distant chamber of the universe, or slumbers like Brahm, then it is obvious only they will pray who have not yet found out the secret of the trick; and to explain the nature of the exercise, or to offer a reason for it, will be to dispel the charm and abolish the practice! Probably the notion was broached to protect the uniformity of what are called the laws of nature, and is a part of the qualified Pantheism that is so apt to attend certain stages of an immature and conceited science. But Nature's reputation is not to be saved by limiting the freedom or power of God. We shall not vindicate creation by binding the Creator. How it is that the free-will of God plays into the order of his works, and yet that he heareth and considereth the faint cry of the least of his poor offspring, is a wonder that science will not solve, at least till it passes over from its acknowledged province of analyzing, classifying and discovering facts, to define and exhibit the essence of being. No: Education, from its very beginnings, must