Fame, if not double-faced, is double-mouthed,
And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds;
On both his wings, one black, the other white,
Bears greatest names in his wild aëry flight.
Milton, Samson Agonistes, 971-974.
The extremes of glory and of shame,
Like East and West, become the same;
No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.
Butler, Hudibras, Part II. Canto I. 271-274.
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name,
And free from Conscience, is a slave to Fame.
Denham, Cooper's Hill, 129, 130.
The secret pleasure of a generous act
Is the great mind's great bribe.
Dryden, Don Sebastian, Act V. Sc. 1.
On pend un pauvre malheureux pour avoir volé une pistole sur le grand chemin, dans son besoin extrême; et on traite de héros un homme qui fait la conquête, c'est-à-dire qui subjugue injustement les pays d'un état voisin.... Prendre un champ à un particulier est un grand péché; prendre un grand pays à une nation est une action innocente et glorieuse.—Fénelon, Examen de Conscience sur les Devoirs de la Royauté, Direction XXV.
Content thyself to be obscurely good;
When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honor is a private station.
Addison, Cato, Act IV. Sc. 4.
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call;
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
Pope, Temple of Fame, 513, 514.
To glory some advance a lying claim,
Thieves of renown and pilferers of fame.
Young, Sat. III. 87, 88.
Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar?
Beattie, Minstrel, I. 1.
I would wish for immortality on earth for no other reason than for the power of relieving the distressed.—Maria Theresa: Coxe's History of the House of Austria, Vol. II. Ch. 44.
Adieu, mon cher et illustre maître; nous avons fait un beau rêve, mais il a été trop court. Je vais me remettre à la géométrie et à la philosophie. Il est bien froid de ne plus travailler que pour la gloriole, quand on s'est flatté pendant quelque temps de travailler pour le bien public.—Condorcet, à Voltaire, 1776: Œuvres, Tom. I. p. 115.
Un temps peut arriver, où les princes, lassés de l'ambition qui les agite, et de ce retour habituel des mêmes inquiétudes et des mêmes projets, tourneront davantage leurs regards vers les grandes idées d'Humanité; et si les hommes du temps présent ne doivent pas être spectateurs de ces heureuses révolutions, il leur est permis du moins de s'unir par leurs vœux à la perfection des vertus sociales, et aux progrès de la bienfaisance publique.—Necker, De l'Administration des Finances de la France, Part. I. Ch. 13.
Les nations ne doivent porter que le deuil de leurs bienfaiteurs. Les représentans des nations ne doivent recommander à leur hommage que les héros de l'humanité.—Mirabeau, Éloge Funèbre de Franklin.
I have had occasion to know many thousand persons in the course of my travels on this subject [of the Slave-Trade], and I can truly say that the part which these took on this great question was always a true criterion of their moral character.—Clarkson, History of the Abolition of the African Slave-Trade, Vol. II. p. 460.
Not thus the schoolmaster in his peaceful vocation.... His is a progress not to be compared with anything like a march; but it leads to a far more brilliant triumph, and to laurels more imperishable than the destroyer of his species, the scourge of the world, ever won. Such men—men deserving the glorious title of Teachers of Mankind—I have found laboring conscientiously, though perhaps obscurely, in their blessed vocation.... Their calling is high and holy; their fame is the property of nations; their renown will fill the earth in after ages, in proportion as it sounds not far off in their own times.—Lord Brougham, Speech at Liverpool, July 20, 1835.
Lieutenant-Colonel Wheeler, in his despatch (Camp Cudjah, August 24, 1840) to Captain Douglas, describing the storming of an Afghanistan fort, says: "I directed Lieutenant Paterson to concentrate as heavy a volley as he could close to the gate: this had the desired effect, shook the gate, and enabled the Grenadiers of the Forty-Eighth, under that officer, to force it, and carry the fort in beautiful style, bayoneting all within it!"—Haydon, Lectures on Painting and Design, Vol. II. p. 262.
[ORATION.]
The literary festival which we are assembled to commemorate is called Commencement. To an interesting portion of my hearers it is the commencement of a new life. The ingenuous student, having completed his term of years—a classical Olympiad—amidst the restraints of the academy, in the daily pursuits of the lecture-room, observant of forms, obsequious to the college curfew, at length renounces these restraints, heeds no longer the summoning bell, throws off the youthful gown, and now, under the auspices of Alma Mater, assumes the robe of manhood. At such a change, the mind and heart open to impressions which may send an influence through remaining life. A seasonable word to-day may, peradventure, like the acorn dropped into propitious soil, shoot upward its invigorating growth, till its stately trunk, its multitudinous branches, and sheltering foliage become an ornament and protection of unspeakable beauty.
Feeling more than I can express the responsibility of the position in which I am now placed by your partial kindness, I trust that what I shall say may be not unworthy of careful meditation, and that it may ripen in this generous soil with no unwelcome growth. I address the literary societies of Amherst College, and my subject will naturally bear some relation to the occasion and to the assembly. But though addressing literary societies, I feel that I should inadequately perform my duty at this time, if I spoke on any topic of mere literature, without moralizing the theme; nor could I satisfy myself,—I think I should not satisfy you,—if I strove to excite merely a love of knowledge, of study, of books, or even of those classics which, like the ancient Roman roads, the Appian and Flaminian Ways, once trod by returning proconsuls and tributary kings, still continue the thoroughfares of nations. These things I may well leave to the lessons of your able instructors and to the influences of this place; nor, indeed, can I expect to touch upon any topic which, under the mingled teachings of the pulpit and the chair, has not been already impressed upon your minds with more force than I can command. Still, I may not vainly indulge the hope, by singling one special theme, to present it with distinctness and unity, so that it will be connected hereafter, in some humble measure, with the grave and the pleasant memories of this occasion.
To you now standing on the threshold of life, anxious for its honors,—more anxious, I hope, for its duties,—nothing can be more important or interesting than the inquiry, what should be your aims, and what your motives of conduct. The youthful bosom throbbing with historic examples is stirred by the praises lavished upon those who have gone before, and pants for fresh fields. The laurels of Miltiades would not suffer Themistocles to sleep. Perhaps a kindred sleeplessness consumes the early thoughts of our day, and, in those visions which it is said young men shall see, Fame and Glory too often absorb the sight. Turning the attention in this direction, we may, perhaps, ascertain the true nature of these potent attractions, and to what extent they can be justly regarded.