Life and letters of John Howard Raymond

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CHAPTER II. An Autobiographical Sketch 3a

Z8Z4 — Boyish Days — Birth in New York — Summers on Long Island Sound, and in Norwalk, Conn. — School Life — Entering Columbia College — College Life — Instructors — Disorderly Conduct among Students — Expulsion — Entering Union College— Graduation — Law-reading in New York — Religious Experience— A Winter in New Haven — Dr. Leonard Bacon — Prof. Hitchcock— The Reasonableness of Religion — Conversion.

CHAPTER III. Hamilton Days 6E

1834 — New Aims — Entering Hamilton Baptist Theological Seminary — Missionary Projects — Revival Preaching in New Brunswick, N. J. — Professorship at Hamilton — Calls to Albany and Philadelphia — Decision to remain — Absorbing Nature of his Duties — Teaching, preparing Courses and Subjects for Study, Preaching, etc. — Friends — Social Pleasures — Love of Nature — " Fanny Forrester" — Dr. Adoniram Judson — Descriptions of Hamilton — Dr. Edward Lathrop — Letter of Recollections from him — Letter of Recollections from Dr. Thomas J. Conant — Letter, with Verses descriptive of Hamilton Summer Joys — Letter of Recollections from Mrs. J. T. Howard.

CHAPTER IV. Early Married Life Z33

Bachelor Life — Falling in Love — Intercourse and Letters- Marriage — A Glimpse into the New Home — Studies in Literary History — Projected English Grammar — Letter to Dr. G. R. Bliss— "D. D."— Letter to Rev. R. R Raymond— Various Letters describing the Work and Interests of the Period — Catholic Union of Christians — Question of the Removal to Rochester — Various Letters — Rev. H. W. Beecher — Foundation of Plymouth Church — Letter from Mr. Beecher — Legal Complications on the Removal Question — Albany — Ira and Hamilton Harris.

Vl CONTENTS.

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CHAPTER V. Father and Children 181

His Relations with his Children — Amusement and Instruction— Fairy Tales — Drawing Pictures — Mending Toys — Christmas Trees — Songs — Letter — Discipline — The Im ossible Handkerchief— First Bereavement — Death of Second Son — Letters of Consolation, to his Brothers and Sisters in their Affliction- Further Bereavements among his own Children — "The Happy Land Letter" — Letters to his Children — Stories — To a young Daughter on becoming a Christian — On the Duty of Christian Giving — On Amusements — His Belief in Christian Liberty, but not Lawlessness — Teaching his Children to think and judge for Themselves — Table Talk — Instruction in Natural Beauty, Art, Music, etc.

CHAPTER VI. Rochester 245

1850— A New University started at Rochester — Raising Funds —Dr. Edward Bright— William Sage— S. D. Porter— John N. Wilder — Drs. Cutting, Lathrop, and Anderson — Visit to New York and Brooklyn — Dr. Lyman Beecher — Thomas K. Bcecher — Preaching by Dr. Welch, Dr. Storrs, and H. W. Beecher — Jenny Lind — Work again — Opening of the University — He and his Family live at Miss Maria Porter's House — Its Inmates and Visitors — Emerson, Starr King, Curtis, Higginson, Beecher, Evarts, Giddings, Cassius M. Clay, Horace Mann, Sumner, Phillips, Garrison, Fred. Douglass, etc. — Dr. Kendrick — W. H. Channing — The Antislavery Movement — Fugitive Slave Law — Daniel Webster — Politics — Kossuth — Letter of Recollections from Frederick Douglass — A Plea for Free Speech — Letter of Recollections from Miss Elizabeth Peabody.

CHAPTER VII. Rochester (Continued) 279

Warm-heartedness of the People — Tranquil Duties and Restful Vacations — Angelica — Returns to the City — Prof. Richardson — Death of Mr. John N. Wilder— Letter to Mrs. Wilder— Letter of Recollections from Prof. A. C. Kendrick — Notes on a Hymnbook — A new Enterprise in Brooklyn — Close of Connection with the University of Rochester.

CHAPTER VIII. Brooklyn— The Polytechnic 307

1855— Acceptance of its Presidency — Ideas concerning the new Institution — Gathering of Instructors and Organization of details — Letter of Recollections from Prof. Robert R. Raymond—Another from Profs. Robert Foster, George W. Collord,

CONTENTSt vu

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Edward C. Seymour— Shadow of Home Affliction — Illness of his Eldest Son — Letters.

CHAPTER IX. Brooklyn— Domestic Life and Vacation Hours 336

Family Circle of Relatives — Busy Days — Summer Letters of Work and Rest.

CHAPTER X. Brooklyn — A Chapter of Sorrow 359

1859 — Death of his Eldest Son — Departure of his Sister's Family for Europe — Depression of Health and Spirits — Letters — Death of his Sister's Eldest Daughter in Europe — Letters to the Traveling Party and to Friends at Home — •' Agnes of Sorrento"— Letter from Mrs. H. B. Stowe — Letters from Mrs. E. • B. Browning — Poem by Mrs. T. J. Conant — Death of Prof. R. R. Raymond's Youngest Son in the Adirondacks — Letters.

CHAPTER XI. Trip to Europe 397

1863 — Decline of Dr. Raymond's Health — Mr. Beecher's Proposed Trip Abroad — They go Together — Letter of Recollections from Mr. Beecher — Letters — Raymond's Description of the Trip — At Sea-^ Liverpool — Chester — Wales — Warwick — York — Chatsworth — Stratford — London — Oxford — Winchester — Salisbury — Southampton — Paris — Switzerland — Berne — Fribourg — Mountain Climbing — Glaciers — The Italian Lakes — Turin — Milan — Venice — Austrian Tyrol — Munich — Nuremberg— Dresden — Berlin — Frankfort — Heidelberg — The Rhine — Cologne— Brussels — Ghent — Interview with King Leopold — London — Home.

CHAPTER XII. Vassar College — Preliminary 498

1 861 — Appointment as a Member of First Board of Trustees of Vassar College — First Meeting — Mr. Vassar's Transfer of the Property to the Board — 1864 — Dr. Raymond called to the Presidency — Hesitation on Ground of Health and Provision for his Family — Letter to Board — Final Acceptance — Preparatory Labors — Traveling in Search of Instructors — Letters — Work at Vassar — Multitude of Details — Miss Hannah W. Lyman sought as Lady Principal — Correspondence — Plans and Principles — Opening of the College, September 20, 1865.

CHAPTER XIII. Vassar College — Formative Years .... 561 1864 — The Course of Study, History of its Development — The

"Vienna Pamphlet" — Classification of Students — Regulation of

Departments and Teachers — Special Courses — Code of Laws

—Commitment of the College to High Standard — Particular

VU1 CONTENTS.

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Notice of Departments — Extracts from President's Annual Reports for First Four Years.

CHAPTER XIV. Vassar College— First Decade 595

1875 — Completion of New Museum — Social Reunion — Review of First Decade by Dr. Raymond : Educational Tendencies, New Problems, Position of Vassar, Advance of the College in Numbers, Standard of Scholarship, Library, Art Gallery, i

Museum, Self-Support — Appeal for Scholarships for Poor Young Women — Wisdom of the President's Policy — Letters from Dr. Benson J. Lossing and William Allen Butler — University Convocation — Commemorative Address by Prest. M. B. Anderson — Vassar Thoroughness — Letters— Attacks upon Vassar — A Reply from Dr. Raymond — Letter from Dr. M. P. Jewett — Endowments for Scholarships — Letters.

CHAPTER XV. Vassar College — Correspondence 634

Vacation Labors — Search for Teachers — Letters — Gail Hamilton— Hartford — Brooklyn — New Haven — A Commencement at Yale — Dr. Porter — Eugene Schuyler — Prof. Robert of West Point — New York and a Professor of Music — Poughkeepsie — Death of Matthew Vassar — Death of Miss Lyman.

CHAPTER XVI. College Reminiscences 658

The Secret of Dr. Raymond's Influence on his Students — Letter from a Graduate — Extract from Sermon by Dr. Lyman Abbott — Letters of Reminiscence from Instructors and Graduates of Vassar — Extracts from Valedictory Addresses — " In Memoriam" from Vassar Miscellany,

CHAPTER XVII. Closing Days 695

lgy8 — Engrossments of Last Three Years — Fruition of his Labors — The Vassar Commencement of 1878 — His Enjoyment of it, and Immediate Illness thereafter — Letter from Dr. George R. Bliss concerning his Life, Last Illness, Death, and Burial,

CHAPTER XVIII. Friendly Tributes 70a

Funeral Address by Dr. Edward Lathrop — Memorial from Vassar Board of Trustees — Article by Prof. T. J. Backus — Resolution from Polytechnic Board of Trustees — Article by Dr. Rossiter W. Raymond — Letters from Dr. S. S. Cutting and Rev. H. W. Beecher.

APPENDIX. Sermon on "The Mission of Educated

Women" ; 725

Chapter I. Introductory

SIXTY-FIVE years ago this seventh day of March began the life, whose gentle current bore blessings to all who came within its influence. A beloved sister said of it, " I used to tell dear John that he was the only good thing that this blustering March ever brought." And surely it was a good and gracious gift to this rough world — a life that brought the very calm of heaven into the storms of earth, the sweetness of a divine charity into human strifes ; that possessed itself in patience amid perplexities and vexing cares, — disturbed in its calm poise only by the injustice or meanness which it scorned, intolerant only of intolerance ; a life that, traced to its most secret springs, was clear as crystal, pure from the mingling of worldly aim or passion ; a life which has become, to use the word of one who honored it, an "ideal" to hundreds who felt its quiet power, and owned the debt of inspiration and of guidance.

No day in all the year brings back so vividly this life of our departed father. For the first time within the memory of his children, it is a day of mourning — the day which was ever bright with greetings and festivities, sweet with the fragrance of flowers and of the friendship which they symbolized. For the first time, the offerings fail which children and friends delighted to bring to him. The birthday wishes are unspoken, the birthday letters unwritten ; the birthday flowers bloom only in that Land whose odors reach us in far-off dreams. Is this the " happy return" of that day which other years have brought to us so joyfully? And what is its return to him who loved our greetings? Does he listen for them on that distant shore ? Does he remember the day rich in the treasures that he so prized ? What has he found in the country whither he has gone ? Oh that the answer might come to us in his voice, which ever comforted and gave us counsel ! When did we ever turn to him with doubt or eager question without an answer?

To his own words we may come, the blessed words left by him in the letters, that, with the life of which they are the only written record, are our priceless inheritance. From this rich legacy we draw forth our first precious stores. On this day which marks the beginning of the life so dear to us, and which brings to us the question, " Has it ceased forever?" let us turn to his own expressions of steadfast faith, and " comfort one another with these words :"

TO HIS ELDEST SISTER.

Thanks, my dear Sister, for your benediction on my new year. It begins, as many of its predecessors have, under a leaden sky and with anything but balm in its breath ; but like them, I doubt not, it will bring its share of Spring blossoms, and Summer flowers, and golden Autumn fruits, — and even its Winter days shall not want a beauty and cheer of their own ;— its clouds and storms, its frosts and chills, its disappointments and griefs, shall they not all work out the Father's will, and work together for our good ?

Sixty years ago this bleak but blessed March morning ! What a picture it looked in upon, in that little " seven-bynine " bedroom in Vandewater Street. The happy, seriousthoughted young mother, shedding smiles and tears by turns on the little red-faced new-comer, that nestled in her bosom and "chortled" and smacked his tongue like good old " Father

W ," and the radiant father, whose eyes were wet only

with love and joy, bringing in his arms little fair-faced Twoyear-old to welcome the baby brother. Then, all this long, weary, changeful, sad-and-merry '* threescore years" on which we look back, my dear S. — the checkered scene of our pilgrimage, our all of memory and of life — was noty save as it lay dimly adumbrated in those wistful parent-hearts : he, doubtless seeing nothing but the sunshine; she, feeling, even in the depth of her joy, the shadow of the griefs that were so sure and so soon to come. Ten years later, and she had passed through and beyond the shadow, which rested so long and so heavily on the faithful heart she left behind. That first ten years of our life, how like nothing it appears to us now, and yet how much did really occur within the time, how many of the germ-thoughts and birth-experiences which have produced the growths and fruits of after-life were there ! And, as memory summons up and passes in review the five succeeding decades, one by one, I feel as I am not accustomed to, how full life is — what worlds of experience, what a library of history, it contains — even our life, comparatively obscure and uneventful as it seems.

And are we to be told that all this rich and wonderful past, now that it is gone, is nothing ? that those joys and sorrows, those dear ones (oh how many !) passed beyond the veil, our good deeds and bad, our struggles and our successes, were not and are not realities, but were mere phenomena, transient nature-changes, the product of electrical forces playing in the brain, that came and went, beautiful phantoms, like images across the mirror of the mind (itself a shadow like themselves), but left behind nothing permanent, nothing enduring, nothing to be a " possession forever" ?

Thank God, we have not so learned, and cannot so believe, while our wits last. The past is a reality, and the future is a reality ; and most real and precious of realities is the resurrection of the past which the future is to bring, when not only we shall come forth from our graves, but with us all that we have done in the body, whether it be good or bad, into the dear presence of Him who will cover the bad with His righteousness and glorify the good with His smile. He will restore to us all that we "have loved long since and lost awhile" — the angel-faces, the ties of friendship rudely strained but never sundered, the studies just begun, the plans full of beneficent promise to which earth had denied the opportunity or the means of execution. All of this life that we prize, and would have again, will (who can doubt, as God is good ?) be given to us again, the treasures of perfected remembrance and purified love, our capital stock on which to begin the business of a heavenly life.

Another ten years, and, more than likely, it will all be ended here with us. We shall have found our chambers under the green sod, and be sleeping by the side of dear ones gone and by each other's side " in hope of the resurrection of the just." Or if either of us lag with here and there another of our contemporaries " superfluous on the stage," we shall feel that our work is ended, and wait impatient for our summons. How like a shadow it seems in itself! how full of inspiring significance it really is in its relations to the future — this swift-speeding, dream-like life of ours, that holds eternity in its bosom like the oak in an acorn's cup. . . .

His prophetic words were realized when scarcely more than four of the ten years had passed. The conviction was quietly deepening in his mind that his days were numbered. Although in the full vigor of plans for his work, he more than once expressed the belief that it would soon be done, declaring that his utmost expectation was to reach sixty-three, man's " grand climacteric." But a short time before his sixtieth birthday, he had confessed to an absent daughter his first surprise at finding how soon his " threescore years" would overtake him. He adds a postscript to the Christmas letter which, since her marriage, he had never failed to send as his holiday greeting :

Vassar College, Dec. 21, 1873.

. . . Monday morning, and I must close my screed. My own health has seemed unusually good this fall. Yet I feel the necessity of constant care to prevent my infirmities from taking a more disagreeable name. Do you know that in less than three months I shall be sixty years old! It seems very natural to you, no doubt; but the discovery has almost petrified me with amazement. I could not have thought it possible, and I feeling so youthful and immature, and so much of my life's work "in prospectu"! Only four years younger than my father was when he died, as I then thought, at a good old age! But I am more and more satisfied that we need not grow old to ourselves; for, as we advance, the future extends more rapidly and more invitingly before us, and we certainly should be growing not. less but more capable of improving and enjoying it. Our hope, thank God, is an immortal one, and a change of worlds only a change of fields and an enlargement of opportunity.

And so, with a love as fresh and warm as ever, I wish you and yours a merry Christmas and a happy new year, and remain, Your unchanging Father.

Where can we find a surer pledge of all that we long to know than in these words, so strangely like the last that he spoke on earth, that last precious testimony to which we cling ? With those words falling on our ears in sweet and solemn cadence, these come as a refrain, and our doubts are silenced. " How easy — how easy — to glide from the work here to the work There," was the experience of a soul that, in a life of ceaseless activity, could believe " a change of worlds only a change of fields and an enlargement of opportunity." The latest utterance of his dying hour had been the familiar language of his life, and we may follow it back from year to year in the expressions which he has left to us :

TO DR. GEORGE A. BLISS.

Vassar College, April 24, 1873.

• . . I am glad to see that you are still able to carry heavy burdens, though I confess I regret the necessity. Yet why regret? This is not our place of rest, and when we reach the end of our earthly labors the least of our regrets will be their abundance. For myself, I think I can honestly say, the more the better, if only what is devolved upon me can be truly and well done. But every year the sense of inadequacy grows upon me; the responsibility steadily increasing, and my vigor, elasticity, and hopefulness beginning noticeably to wane. If I had no refuge in the faith of a personal God, sympathizing and ready to help — a Divine Master, full of pity and having all power in heaven and earth — if I felt shut up to inexorable natural law and inexorable moral law, and knew no Christ who is above law, I should give out and give up at once. But, thank God, that confidence does not fail me yet; nor do I see that any of the developments of modern science, wonderful and bewildering as they certainly are, nor any of the subtle suggestions of modern unbelief, reach to the disturbing of the foundation on which we have built. I think it will abide our time at least — and I pray that our children may not lose it, unless a better is given them in its place — if that be possible.

Have you examined Calderwood's " Moral Philosophy " ? I rather hastily adopted it as a text-book this year. It has the advantage of distinctly recognizing the most recent phases of ethical heresy, and is, I think, essentially sound in theory. But the treatment is confused and unsatisfactory, particularly for the tyro in such discussions, and my seniors have not had a happy time with it. Is there any text-book of ethics which does not hinder more than it helps ?

We are all well, and the whole house send love and greeting.

How I wish that we could meet! But patience! the

time is short.

Your loving brother John.

My darling Daughter: Your letter did reach me on the 7th, and added a very peculiar gratification to the many which contributed to make the day happy. I am not at all sure that the swift recurrence of these significant anniversaries, with their sharp reminder that one is fast growing old, would bring much pleasure, to one of my age at least, were it not for the accompanying expression of loves and friendships which grow riper and sweeter with every passing year. I suppose I have hardly a right, at only fifty-six, to assume the airs and claim the honors of an old man. But spite of myself, I

IS JOHN H. RA YMOSD.

find my glance drawn forward, and cannot help suspecting a decided declivity in the path before me, and though the necessity of work, not only, but something. I trust, of its inspiration, keeps me going, I am afraid that I detect some growth of inertness, an increasing sense of the luxury of repose, belonging rather to the second than to the first half-century of life. Dii aztrtite cmtmf

Your mother has written you of all the pleasant things that marked the day. But I should not have left it for her to do had not an »p«— ai crowd of business made the writing of love-letters a thing out of the question. And since then, what changes have come over our sky ! The illness of ** Grandma*' filled us with anxiety, and your mother would not have been surprised to have been called at any moment to her bedside. And the very mail which relieved us of that apprehension brought the sad tidings of an unfavorable turn in Judge Lloyd's sickness. We are disappointed of a letter to-day, and, if we dared, would draw a little hope from that fact. Indeed, it is hard to believe the worst, so slow are we, after all our experience of this changing, sad, and dying world, to anticipate occurrences which make up so large a part of its daily experience. We are children of a larger growth, and our views of life are childish to the last. When we are come of age, and look back from heaven's maturity upon these scenes, how we shall smile at the dullness of our understanding and the slow growth of our faith, and only wonder that, with all the light of experience and revelation, we did not see things more nearly as they are —did not habitually anticipate such changes, and habitually rejoice in them, when, as in the case of your father I-loyd. they were but the crowning of a Christian life, the fruition of a sure and happy hope.

It would be too much, I suppose, to expect such views to be habitual with a bride of months only, living in a crystal palace with a faultless husband, and so much to fill her earthly present and future with the realities and the visions of delight. But in the scenes in which you are now moving, they will certainly seem fitting. Nor would our relish of earthly blessings be less if we would mingle more of heaven in our estimate and enjoyment of them.

We shall wait with much solicitude for the next tidings, hoping that they may be favorable to your wishes, but praying that in any event the presence of the Master may be with you, and the supports of grace be given to the dying and living alike.

TO A FRIEND OF MANY YEARS.

My dear old Friend : I think you will not object to an epithet from which none but the shallow shrink, which to the wise is significant of the most precious, if not the fairest and most admired, things this world (" this poor world " I should say but for the precious old things in it) has to offer. So at least one may be allowed to think who has passed his fifty-fifth birthday ! And, of all things that time tries and ripeness improves, what is like an old friendship ? It was so like you, dear E., to remember my birthday in that far country (I should have forgotten it even here, had I not been reminded), and so like you to utter your thought in just this way. Nothing short of your personal apparition in the flesh could have brought you so vividly before me, to my " mind's eye " and my heart's. It has been a day brimful of happiness to me, for it brought so many palpable and beautiful expressions of the love which I have done so little to deserve, but which delights me none the less because I cannot explain it. Among them all, dear E., none touched a deeper chord or thrilled me with a truer joy than yours. It assured me that years of separation and silence — silence for which I know that I am not blameless — have not estranged us. Your love, of course, I knew had not failed, nor, I trust, has your confidence in mine. So, at least, I interpreted the jessamines and roselets, and was comforted. The flowers had suffered some for their long journey, but there was enough of their original beauty left to suggest the whole, and memories of the true heart that sent them more than supplied the loss.

God has blessed me indeed with the love of many hearts, and many close about me, whose kindly expressions keep my cup constantly full. But the new ones do not displace the old ones, though they may engross my time and thoughts more perhaps than I ought to allow them to ; yet, when memory gets a chance to recall the absent faces and the former times, I find the old affection all unchanged, and, like some rare and rich old wine, brought out to honor some choice occasion, all the riper and more precious for the lapse of years. Is it not a cheering promise of the day of resurrection, when sleeping friendships shall also awake with the freshness of immortality upon them, and the truth of God be vindicated, that " love never faileth "? I believe it. If there is anything immortal, it is love, for surely nothing is more worthy of immortality.

TO MISS HANNAH W. LYMAN. [Then Lady-Principal of the College.']

My dear Miss Lyman: Many, many thanks for the lovely flowers which you sent to smile upon my birthday morning. All day yesterday and again to-day they have stood by my side, a presence of beauty, a ministry of consolation. How often, when perplexed and wearied with my work, have I lifted my eyes to them, so calm, so sweet, so exquisitely delicate, so unearthly in their perfection, and drunk in balm and healing with the glance. What a touch they have for a sore mind! How like a living thought of God, filling the room with light ! How they breathe and whisper of His love ! And it is not profanation to say that I prize them all the more that they assure me of a human as well as a divine affection. Of this, dear Miss Lyman, be sure, that your friendship — so lately found, so highly prized — is one of the things that reconcile me to the possibility of " many returns " of this day, here, so far from Home, — and also that I am ever gratefully and affectionately

Your friend and brother,

J. H. Raymond.

TO A DAUGHTER.

Vassar College, Dec. 18, 1870.

My darling Child : Your letters are like cold water to a thirsty soul. It is an inexpressible comfort to know how much you find that is congenial and happifying in your new home and its surroundings, of which your detailed descriptions give us such vivid pictures. And you may be sure the constant prayer of our hearts is that the sun may continue to shine long, long — if I dared say it, ever. But alas! such is not the lot of man. "The days of darkness" will come, and be " many," and the wiser prayer is that we may be so filled with the light divine that outward darkness and light shall be both alike to us. Is that a melancholy key to strike in these holiday times? I think you will not so regard it. For why should it dull our appreciation and enjoyment of inferior and transient blessings to think that we are not dependent on them, to remember that we possess treasures which would abide though they should be snatched away, the thought of which will exalt and. brighten them even while they last?

In his frequent reference to the "abiding treasures" we find a part of his very Confession of Faith. Many years before, he had gloried in these possessions, in writing to one whose friendship was indeed one of the enduring treasures :

University of Rochester, Nov., 1852.

My dear E. : Your last letter was doubly welcome, as you. may suppose, first because of the good news with which it was freighted, and then because it came from one we so much love. For, naughty as we confessedly are, dearest E., in this article of letter- writing, our hearts fail not to " indite good matter" toward you whenever your loved name is mentioned in our circle, or memory recalls your image amid the pleasing and mournful visions of the past. Sweet recollections! Yet why need we cling to them as a chief treasure, or reluctantly yield them as inexorable time bears them ever farther away ? Is not " our life" in the hope-lighted realm of the future? Yea, is it not " hid with Christ in God "? The real value of our experiences in the past is this, that they are to be elements of our higher experience in the coming. I feel an assured faith of this, that there is to be no wreck of any of our affections, that there will be resurrections of heart-joys which we thought utterly lost and buried, and never to be renewed save in memories as tearful as they are tender. Oh no ! it is not so. Our confidence is in Him that doeth all things well, who saw the end from the beginning, who is educating us, and has been all along, for our immortal being, and who has had a meaning in all those myriad experiences of ours, which as yet seem to have been arrested in their unfolding, and sadly cut off, immature and fruitless, — a meaning which Heaven will declare. Then why regret? If all that is dear in the past is to be reproduced in the future, matured, exalted, glorified; and if this our hope is not the cloud-pile which fancy gilds into seeming " Islands of the Blest," even as its beams are passing, to fade while we gaze into a gray and chill and drear reality of shadows and coming storms, but the serene discovery of faith under a broad noon-light, definite, steady, ever brightening and strengthening as we near it — why shall we not " forget the things behind," or use them but as stand-points whence to " reach towards those before" ?