The address was well received. The tide was then turning. Since then the lecture-room has been free. The condition of the public mind was noticed at the time. One newspaper said, that "a Boston audience of the kind then and there present would not have listened to it with patience four years ago,"—that, "valuable as the lecture is on account of its literary merits, its real importance consists in marking an era in Boston opinion." Another paper says, with enthusiasm, "That Mr. Sumner should have delivered such a lecture before 'the solid men of Boston' is a great, a sublime fact in American history," and, after proceeding in this strain, concludes with the remark, that "it is one of the most striking examples of whipping one set of people over the backs of another that we ever heard of."
[ADDRESS.]
Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Mercantile Library Association:—
I have been honored by an invitation to deliver an address, introductory to the annual course of lectures which your Association bountifully contributes to the pastime, instruction, and elevation of our community. You know, Sir, something of the reluctance with which, embarrassed by other cares, I undertook this service,—yielding to kindly and persistent pressure, which only a nature sterner than mine could resist. And now I am here to perform what I promised.
I am to address the Mercantile Library Association of Boston, numbering, according to your last Report, two thousand and seventy-eight members, and possessing a library of more than fifteen thousand volumes. With so many members and so many books, yours is an institution of positive power. Two distinct features appear in its name. It is, primarily, an association of persons in mercantile pursuits; and it is, next, an association for the improvement of its members, particularly through books. In either particular it is entitled to regard. But it possesses yet another feature, more interesting still, which does not appear in its name. It is an association of YOUNG MEN, with hearts yet hospitable to generous words, and with resolves not yet vanquished by the trials and temptations of life. Especially does this last consideration fill me with a deep sense of the privilege and responsibility to which you have summoned me. I am aware, that, according to usage, the whole circle of knowledge, thought, and aspiration is open to the speaker; but, as often as I have revolved the occasion in my mind, I have been brought back to the peculiar character of your Association, and have found myself unwilling to touch any theme not addressed to you especially as merchants.
I might fitly speak to you of books; and here, while considering principles to govern the student in his reading, it would be pleasant to dwell on the profitable delights, better than a "shower of cent per cent," on the society, better than fashion or dissipation, and on that completeness of satisfaction, outvying the possessions of wealth, and making the "library dukedom large enough,"—all of which are found in books. But I leave this theme. I might also fitly speak to you of young men, their claims and duties; and here again, while enforcing the precious advantages of Occupation, it would be pleasant to unfold and vindicate that reverence which Antiquity wisely accorded to youth, as the season of promise and hope, pregnant with an unknown future, and therefore to be watched with tenderness and care,—to show how in every young man the uncertain measure of capacities yet undeveloped gives scope to magnificence of anticipation beyond any reality,—and to inquire what must be done, that all this anticipation may not wholly die while the young man lives. But there are other things which beckon me away. Not on books, not on youth must I speak, but on yet another topic, suggested directly by the name of your Association.