copied the "shiver-my-timbers" swagger, and tried to look the sailor, we placed fair forms-the "celestial poultry" of New Haven-in the stern sheets, and the oars bent by the weight of our cargo; it is "invoiced on my memory now." Often I speculate on the changes of College friendship. Fainter and fainter will the image of each classmate grow, by the scarcely conscious attrition of other faces, and fresh circumstances, as the track of the traveler embedded in the barren waste of the desert, loses its form, and, finally its semblance is extinguished by the winds that take up the dusty mould atom by atom. The forms, the faces that we meet each day in social life, will lose their preeminence in our thoughts, and in years yet in the womb of time, we shall say that have been. Yet ere they leave, and before they are scattered over the surface of this vast Republic, and even in lands beyond the seas, and they abandon forever these classic shades of retirement and rest, I will earnestly pray that their course may be upward, upward, like the eagle's flight. ·W. N. A. Charity. In Faith and Hope the world will disagree, All must be false that thwart this one great end; POPE. THE infelicities of human nature seem to prevent the constant exhibition of any one of its virtues. As a stream is sometimes broad and sunny, and then scarcely visible in the narrow, shaded channel, and anon lost beneath the surface, so as a general truth, flows the current of each human excellence. In one department of life it shines out with a gladdening radiance in another its light and beauty are gone, and perchance the gloom of some ignoble passion is resting there. This is especially true of charity, a virtue which gathers into itself the essence of most of the lovable traits of our nature. Many men, generous enough in material things, are yet strangers to that higher generosity in spiritual things. With willing hands they supply the needs of the way-worn and destitute, but have no charity for a fellow traveler on life's journey, who, in this mysterious pathway, sees not as they see, nor hears the same harmony, or discord. Thus it happens that what is benevolence, when applied to man's physical wants, becomes uncharitableness, when transferred to the necessities of his soul. But such an interception of this virtue is not inevitable. It may be so cherished as to extend through all the life, giving a generous, manly tone to the whole character. The opposite of this virtue is not found in the highest type of manhood. That nobility with which we always invest our ideal man is wide as the poles from the spirit of the bigot. Men cease to be manly in proportion as they permit their lives to be swayed by prejudice. Yet many do this. We meet them in all the walks of life. But such characters are more conspicuons among ultra radicals or stubborn conservatives. In the first class the uncharitable, as a general thing, are those who readily embrace, but do not originate the system of reform. They are, in their own judgment, of extraordinary foresight and comprehension. But in fact, their mental calibres will not admit even one complete sound idea, to say nothing of that "commune vinculum" which ought never to be overlooked. Flushed with that joy which a new thought usually imparts to such minds, and hopeful of the immediate modification of social ills, they are, at first, enthusiastic and vociferous, like noisy brooks which are brawling in proportion to their shallowness. But as the old staid world remains seemingly unaffected, eager hope is succeeded by disappointment. They grow bitter and vituperate. "All men are liars," say they-and "O! judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason!" They forget that very good injunction, "soft words, but hard arguments." Far better for the manhood of such men to be in error with a mag. nanimous heart than to hold the truth in misanthropy. Examples of the second class are more marked. Many of them are men of political and ecclesiastical life. They are the self-appointed conservators of the public weal, and, of course, spare no effort to stay the incoming tide of innovations. With their pens they conditionally dismember society, and scatter truth and justice to the winds. But oft and again as "humanity sweeps onward," are those conditions met; still the consequences predicted do not follow. Yet, despite the false prophecy, their bitterness constantly increases. They anathematize all who wish, in any way, to dispense with party leading-strings. For, with them, forms and creeds are of the highest importance. The words of the Apostle are reversed, and they assert that the spirit killeth but the letter giveth life. If called to "contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints," they do it in a manner which unmistakably proves their active membership in the Church militant. In the discussion of abstruse principles the wants of the individual soul are forgotten. What had given promise of a true man, under this regime has developed nothing but a miserable polemics. Surely such men are to be pitied. The state of mind which they manifest should be regarded as one of the most afflictive dispensations of an inscrutable Providence, and in reference to such a perversion of manhood, were the Saviour and men now upon the earth, doubtless many would ask, “Who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was thus born ?" Objectively considered there are numerous reasons for the constant exercise of a charitable disposition. Many of the questions which agitate mankind, and in relation to which the bitterest opinions are the results of their own free choice, the inference is, that they are not without foundation. It is quite unnatural for men under no restraint, to put their faith in a mere tissue of myths and lies, especially when their own interests and those of society are concerned. And moreover, if, as asserted," there is no error so crooked, but it hath in it some lines of truth,” then, certainly, under all circumstances, charity is demanded by justice to the extent of the truth, while a generous heart will be still more liberal. But magnanimity is truly an essential, would we gain over those who differ from us. Sneers are poorly calculated to convict and persuade. For the insinuation that men are dupes and fools can create only a worthy indignation and a stronger tenacity of belief. The controversies of two centuries ago were characterized more or less by arrogance and bitterness. But whatever of potence this spirit may have had in those times, it is certainly powerless for good in these better days. Now "Gently to hear, kindly to judge," is a dictate of policy, as well as the prompting of a noble heart, and whoever would mould men's minds to his own must so hear, so " judge." But when regarded subjectively this virtue appears especially desirable. For upon its growth is conditioned the activity of cognate attributes, which are the real ornaments of character. When the spirit of charity is vital in the heart, the lesser virtues are drawn up by a "sweet compulsion" to range with it. It requires no nice analysis of ourselves to convince us, that much of our inspiration to be and to do is derived from inward promptings, which we can hardly define. Emotions, impulses, transient affections, and some of these, perchance, too delicate to be embodied in rugged words, do in a great measure control us. And this is right, for these will develop into noble principles. Yet are they now tender plants in need of care and culture. Nothing will so much hasten their growth as the genial sunlight of charity. For love to men, as an abstract principle, is beneficent still. Withdraw this, and selfishness and meanness spring up in the heart, poisonous plants, under whose deadly shade no fair and beautiful things will grow. Above all others, happy is the man who lives in the spirit of this virtue. He is growing in harmony with all that is good and true, and living to "make life, death, and that vast forever, One grand sweet song." It is a strange anomaly, that among the liberally educated, are found the most illiberal men in the world. This fact may be accounted for, in a great measure, on the reasonable supposition, that the education was simply nominal. There was no real development of the mind as a whole. And so, we see men, who have passed through a collegiate course, and formally at last, engaged in all its liberalizing pursuits, having less generosity of thought than the most illiterate. In their case, whatever of knowledge was acquired, only served to intensify some narrow prejudice of early life. And herein we see the truth of that comparison, recently brought before the public, which likens the mind of the bigot to the pupil of the eye, which contracts the more, the more light is poured upon it. But this certainly seems like an abnormal state of things. Study should make us generous in our views, should nullify our prepossessions, should enlarge the heart while it expands the mind. And for men thus developed the age in which we live calls. Scholarship is by no means to be underrated; but more than ever before, to be a potential agent, must be united with "The larger heart, the kindler hand." With this union it is emphatically true that knowledge is power. As a good motto for scholars, or for any class of men who would be strong for the right, perhaps none is better than this, In necessariis, unitas; in non necessariis, libertas; in utrisque, charitas. The Pale Navy. THE boating interest at Yale dates from the purchase of the following-William J. Weeks of '44, purchased a second-hand four-cared Whitehall boat, nineteen feet long and four feet beam, built March, 1837, by Messrs. De La Montagnie & Son, New York, which arrived in New Haven May 24, 1843. Henry W. Buel, John W. Dulles, John McLoud, Virgil M. D. Marcy, John P. Marshall, William Smith and Weeks, who was chosen captain subsequently, formed a club, and called the boat the Pioneer. On the 14th of June following they hoisted thier flag, inscribed "Pioneer, Yale, No. 1." In this boat her crew made various pleasant excursions, among which we may mention that about the middle of June, 1844, they started early one fine morning and rowed over to Long Island, touching opposite Wading River, thence coasted westward, and after a brief stop at Miller's Place, entered the harbor of Mount Sinai, and spent the night. The next morning they returned, but not without being somewhat imperiled off the mouth of the harbor, the Sound having become quite rough from a fresh northerly breeze which had sprung up. On the 12th of August, 1844, the Pioneer was sold to Charles Jones, whose father then kept the toll-bridge, by whom she was let for several subsequent years, until she was wrecked at her moorings under the bridge, in a severe storm. June 20, 1843, Edwin A. Bulkley of '44, bought a four-oared nineteen foot Whitehall boat, nearly new, built by Messrs. De La Montagnie & Son, in New York. That boating was comparatively unexpensive in those days one may see from the bill of sale, which runs thus: 1 Boat, 19 feet, Oars, boat-hook, painter, yoke, &c. $30.00 8.25 $38.25 She was named the Nautilus, and after a little use was handsomely painted and cushioned by the liberality of Henry P. Duncan, who, for a time, was nominally captain. With him and Bulkley were associated, during the summers of '43 and '44, Captain Henry C. Birdseye, Jas. S. Bush, Henry Byne, Chas. H. Meeker, Howard Smith and Hannibal Stanley. This boat was sold, about the time of their graduation, to Brooks & Thatcher. |