In this undoubted psychological fact is found the hidden cause of the infidelity of many young men. They do wrong, and passion seeks to justify their conduct to their intelligence, which becomes the tool of the perverted will.
Or, if you prefer to take another view of the subject, I will say that what the French call l'interiorité—the habitual dwelling with one's own thoughts—is an essential condition of mental growth. But this is painful to the sensual man, who has violated the sanctuary of his soul, and can consequently no longer dwell there in peace.
What pleasure can the father find in the bosom of his family, when he has betrayed the wife whom he swore to love, and has brought shame upon the name which his children have received from him?
To him, then, who wishes to begin the life-work of self-improvement I would say: Seek to have a large mind, from which no narrowing prejudice shuts out the full light of truth; have a pure heart, with the strength to love all that is right.
Then, I ask of him the will to work and to persevere in labor. Labor is the great law of progress, the necessary condition of all improvement. He who wishes to be an educated man must have courage; he must consent to see himself forgotten for a time, overshadowed by the easy-won reputations of those of his own age, who will wear their honors full-blushing, whilst all his life is still concentred in the bud that wraps it close and nurtures it.
Is it easy, in the fresh-blown flower of manhood, in the enthusiasm of a newly-found liberty, when fair hands hold out the cup of pleasure, when bright eyes and smiling lips woo [pg 203] to indulgence—is it easy, then, to choose rather silence and solitude, a life of toil more earnest and not less regular than the enforced labor of the college? And yet this must be. There is no royal road to science.
“A king of feasts and flowers, and wine and revel,
And love and mirth, was never king of glory.”
I have heard the question—you have asked it yourselves—Where are the young men who go forth year after year from our colleges? What becomes of them? We never hear of them. Is not something wrong? They cease to study, they cease to grow, and are lost in the crowd.
But your presence, young gentlemen, assures me that you have not ceased to labor, and that you do not intend to cease to grow.