ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING CLASS.
By S. Brownsberger
BATTLE CREEK COLLEGE COMMENCEMENT EXERCISES. BY PROF. S. BROWNSBERGER. My dear friends of the graduating class: In behalf of the Faculty and Board of Trustees I am requested to say a few words to you. On such an occasion as this, as you stand at the close of your college life and look forward into the uncertain future, it is highly befitting that a few words be offered for your consideration. It seems to me that now, if ever, the heart should be susceptible to impressions, and the mind open to wise counsel. But I shall not enter much into advising to-night, for there is among men a great deal of advising and but little faithful performing, so that advice to-day amounts to but little with most people. I would not be too serious; on the other hand you would not have me say that which is intended only to please you. Were I competent to do this, I fear that I might not then say what would be most likely to benefit you. My chief concern is that I may speak the truth, and only that best suited to do you good; and if in attempting this I should say one word that would sadden your hearts or lessen your courage, you may rest assured that you have misinterpreted my meaning, or possibly there is something in your expectations or views that might well be reconsidered. You say that your school life has been a happy one. I am glad that it has been so. Indeed, early life is usually the happiest part of our existence. But it is not always so easy to be happy in after years. Yet to be happy and of good courage is not only a privilege, but a duty which a wise Providence has enjoined upon every one of his creatures. What I may say, I trust, may aid you somewhat in the pursuit of true happiness and success in coming years. But it will not do to close our eyes to truth and blindly follow the multitude in what they call pleasure, for truth and what the world calls pleasure do not usually walk side by side; their pathways are often widely separated. Strange as it may seem, truth does not long, if ever, attract the multitude. Truth's golden chain, let down from Heaven to lift us up to God, looks beautiful only while we look upward and trace it, link by link, until we see it twined around the eternal throne. There we behold it crowned with a halo of glory; here we see it covered with the mildew of error, and trampled in the dust, while the multitude that cries Hosanna to-day, and strews the pathway of truth with palms, to-morrow cries, “Away with it from the earth.” Truth is the voice of God speaking to man. It is speaking to you and to me, and it becomes us to hearken and obey. It may not always lead us to such triumphs as the world applauds, for the world is short-sighted and seldom looks upward. It may indeed lead through darkness, over rough and thorny pathways; yet if the eye is upward, we discern that each weary step is bringing us nearer the paradise of God. We are compelled to admire the zeal with which some men pursue the investigation of truth in certain fields of thought and action. Regardless of what the world terms pleasure, the philosopher shuts himself up to his experiments, to discover some new truth or to test some projected theory. Nothing is too hard for the astronomer to venture upon or suffer, provided only he may observe an eclipse or transit, to gain additional data from which to correct or verify previous calculations. These men often find it necessary to modify conclusions previously adopted. Theories that were supposed to be well sustained by long and repeated observations, have at last fallen to the earth forever. Indeed, in all these fields of investigation there is, comparatively speaking, but little positive knowledge. At the present day, “We have the lunar theory,” says Dr. Hall, “in a very discouraging condition, and the theories of Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune and Uranus, are all in need of revision, as the tables of these planets already begin to differ from the more recent observations.” But there are truths of far more vital importance to the world than these, concerning which all are more liable to make mistakes than the scientist in his special field of investigation. How much more zealously should we pursue that golden chain of truth which lifts our earth to God, and upon which we must rest our hopes for happiness, and virtue, and eternal life, than those which serve the world chiefly in this life, and fail to prepare it for the eternity of God. Is it strange that men and women in a world that measures success by appearances and not by principle, that lacks moral courage to proclaim the truth when it is revealed, in a world of passion, and strife, and hatred, is it strange, I ask, that men and women under such circumstances, have misinterpreted the voice of reason and truth, and consequently have very erroneous views of life and duty? Is it not a fact that men are always more ready, and likely too, to believe what they desire to be true? And thus many of our views of life are fanciful, and they are indeed sweet because they accord with our tastes and desires. And, oh, hard it is, sometimes, to divest our reason of their charms! But Time, the stern judge of all deception, can alone prove to us that they are illusory. Most people have acted upon the supposition that wealth, worldly pleasure, and honors are the three great objects to be desired, and that without these life is a failure. Some have started in life with a fixed impression that they were called to some great mission that would bring them into marked prominence among mankind. Now I would caution all young men and women against supposing that they have some special mission to the world, for time will show this also to be a delusion and a snare. No truly great man in all the history of the world has ever contemplated fame or a special mission among men. Moses, Luther, Washington, and others who have filled the most important missions the world has ever seen, had no thought of fame or special mission. It may save us many a disappointment to understand early that the world can get along very well without us, and that it does not greatly need us. But above all, do not plan greatness. The truly great and wise have never planned to attain to any distinction. Indeed, they know not that they are great. With amazement they view the applauding multitude, and wonder at its folly. How modestly the great man wears his gifts and virtues! He asks, What have I done that they should applaud? I have done only a little service in the nearest walks of life; and along the seashore of knowledge I have now and then picked up a little pebble, and have shown it to the world. The stimulus to true greatness is not within the gift of man; it comes down from Heaven along the chain of truth. To stand up alone and battle for truth with a fair prospect of falling long before it is recognized by men, this is true greatness. It is not, indeed, intellectual power alone that constitutes greatness; it is rather the moral courage displayed in defense of the principles of truth to which that power is devoted, whether it be great or small. Duty will then be made the chief concern, and pleasure will be kept waiting upon her. And now as we sever to-night our relations as teachers and pupils, let us not think to change our relations as fellow-servants and co-laborers in the service of truth and duty. Though certain relations with your fellow-men may change according to circumstances, yet no change of circumstances or place can relieve you from that service. Many think that this is a hard and exacting service. In some respects it is; but after all you may rest assured that it is the only service in this world that really pays. The pleasure to which so many sell themselves is a cheat. It keeps the word of promise to our ear, and breaks it to our hope; but duty never did and never will betray the heart that loves her. Indeed, the only happiness and pleasure in this world's gift that is really worth the having, is the happiness that springs up free and un-sought by the wayside of duty. What if its pathway is betimes rough and thorny? What if deep sorrow and grief are sometimes your portion? Are not the clouds and the rain as necessary as the sunshine? All the while bear in mind that you are the servants of your fellow-men, sent to do your Master's work; that you are not sent into his vineyard to sit idly down and partake of the fruits, while you employ none of your time in dressing the vine. There is work, hard work, on every side, and there are but few who have the moral courage to undertake it. The world is rushing on in its own path, and you will often feel, perhaps, as though it were an obstruction in your progress; but this you will find to be because it is traveling in a different direction from yours. You will have to bear with the failings of those about you, with their want of appreciation, with their neglect and ingratitude when you expected thanks. But do not be offended or discouraged. You will indeed get good and evil as you go on, and finally have the success that has been appointed to you. There will be no need for you to be anxious for applause and the appreciation of men. The fragrance of your good deeds will rise as incense to a far holier shrine. We need not fret ourselves to make our power felt with noise and bluster. “The best forces in man, as in nature, do their work silently and unobserved. We hear the blowing of the wind; the sunshine we hear not. And God works more powerfully in the growing of the grass than in the hurricane or the earthquake.” All that you need care for is to walk as becomes the children of light, and to receive at last the “well done, good and faithful servant,” as your glorious reward. And now as you leave the scenes and associations of your college life, we shall miss you. You have done what you could to lighten our labors as teachers. We have learned to trust you. When the battle was hardest, your fidelity to the right was the strongest. You leave a record of which you may well be proud. It shall live in our memories, with no dark blot to mar its beauty. May this be a type of your after life as representatives of your alma mater. Wherein we have dealt unfaithfully by you I trust that you will forgive us. May God forgive us; and may he bless you abundantly.—Farewell.