ARTICLE IX.-THE LATE PRESIDENT WAYLAND.

PERSONAL power is something which it is often difficult to analyze. Hence it is called magnetism, being thus likened to an unknown, but powerfully acting force that baffles every attempt to lay hold of it and weigh it. This, at least, may be said, that such personal power does not reside in intellect alone. Men of brilliant and versatile talents often lack this peculiar impressiveness. They may, in some cases, even excite a degree of contempt among those who are brought into intercourse with them, because a certain deeper, more subtle power is missing. It is true that the exercise of the kind of sway to which we allude, requires talents above the level of mediocrity; although it should be observed that the very harmony and symmetry of superior powers, where nothing is found in excess, may be taken for mediocrity by a superficial eye, -as in the estimate, made by shallow critics, of Washington. But personal power results from a certain blending of mind and character. Intellectual and moral energy appear to mix in one current. Without doubt, physical superiority, where it is found, sets off this power and gives it an advantage. But that is not essential. Hildebrand, Frederic the Second of Prussia, Napoleon-we mention the examples that first occurwere men whose "bodily presence," if not contemptible, was far from being imposing. They, and many like them, were persons of diminutive stature. An impressive exterior, if the mental part fails to correspond, renders the inward littleness of a man the more conspicuous. An expectation is raised, only to be disappointed. In humanity, as in architecture, mere bigness has not much honor. A man of this sort always seems to be in the way. It is clear that the impression of personal power is attended with the feeling that much is held in reserve. Back of words, back of explicit thoughts, there is a well which has not yet been sounded. It is remarkable that some rather silent persons are still pleasant companions. In reviewing

your intercourse with them, you do not recall much that they have said. Yet they somehow appear to be talking, and you feel yourself in converse with minds of no common order. How true is it that there is far more in a great soul than is coined into distinct expression! Where the forces of a human being are, to a large extent, collected in the character, this impression of reserved power, of a store of unexpended energies, is continually felt. Perhaps he is not doing much now, but wait for the emergency! One, in whose thoughts the highest interests of mankind are habitually uppermost, takes on a serious and lofty type of feeling, which surrounds him like an atmosphere, and without any effort on his sidepartly because no effort is made to this end-moves respect.

The reader may think that we are wandering from the subject. But Dr. Wayland was one of this class of men, whose personal power much exceeded what a mere catalogue of his qualities would indicate. He was unquestionably an able man intellectually. Yet he was not a subtle metaphysician. He had no great relish for the nice distinctions in which the metaphysician takes delight, and which are vital in his science. Nor was he, though generally a sound logician, specially wary in a logical conflict, as was evinced in his controversy with a defender of slavery, Dr. Fuller, who profited by an occasional slip of his stronger adversary. Nor was Dr. Wayland an orator, certainly not in the recognized and conventional use of the term. His intonations and gestures were conformed to no accepted standard, nor would they be considered pleasing. No more was he, properly speaking, a scholar. He did not aim to acquaint himself fully with the literature of any branch of knowledge. His reading was decidedly less extensive than is usual with persons of his ability and standing. Yet, for all this, Dr. Wayland was a great man. So every one felt who knew him. No one could be in the room with him and not be struck with his superiority. With no affectation of dignity, but with manners perfectly simple and even familiar, he commanded respect wherever he was. In the class-room, although he allowed full freedom and was quite willing to have his opinions controverted, he yet cast a spell over the minds of

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his pupils from which it was hard to break loose. As a citizen of the community, he was in the highest degree influential, though he did not seek influence. What was the secret of all this acknowledged power? think that one principal source of Dr. Wayland's personal power, was the fact that his mind seemed to be (and was) in more direct contact with truth than is the case with the minds of most men. He appeared to be seeking for nothing else. Nothing seemed to intervene between his mind and the truth, to warp his vision or bias his judgment. He certainly had little respect for authority. Perhaps he had too little; but he was saved from being cramped by an influence which has often enslaved the human intelligence. The usual forms in which Christian doctrine is stated, he thought open to criticism. He agreed substantially in his theology with the great body of Christians, but the formulas of theology had no sacredness in his eyes. He disdained a yoke of every sort, especially that of subservience to party. One of the chief lessons that he sought to inculcate, was the obligation to break away from any party the moment it required wrong-doing. Individual rights, individual responsibility and liberty, he exalted, in contrast with deference to antiquity, church authority, political party, or public opinion. Another fountain of his power was the depth of his convictions. His mind was less fertile than that of many, but it took a strong and sure hold of the most important truth. He had beliefs that were deeply rooted in his being. He had, also, a simple, profound, reverential love of right. The great, the supreme thing, in his eyes, was righteousness. He left on his pupils the impression that everything else was of minor consequence, compared with doing right. And to do right, especially when there was strong temptation to an opposite course, he felt to be a sublime thing. Examples of fidelity to duty under trying circumstances, thrilled his soul. Dr. Wayland had a strong will. This was an important foundation of his personal power. It was evident that he could be a man of action, and that if he chose to rouse himself, obstacles would be swept from his path. In ordinary intercourse, it was a strong will in repose, carrying with it an im

pression of weight and force. He liked men of will. He was never tired of citing Napoleon's pithy sayings, and of referring to his efficient methods of action. John Foster's Essay on Decision of Character he prized very highly, and frequently recommended.

The whole turn of Dr. Wayland's mind was practical. He measured the value of knowledges by their bearing on human welfare. He looked at philosophical theories in their relation to the conduct of life. And he was broad in his sympathies. He was interested in the common people, and an active promoter of whatever promised them elevation or an increase of happiness. His sense of the value of mechanical inventions is indicated in a half humorous remark that he once made respecting an ingenious instrument for manufacturing screws, that he would rather be the inventor of that machine than be the author of the Iliad. He was a determined advocate of free-trade in a State largely devoted to manufactures. We believe that in earlier days he was a democrat in his party associations; but he hated slavery, and acted with those who resisted its encroachments. With a deep respect for order and law, he still occasionally betrayed, as some would think, a tendency to radical opinions. It was partly from his sympathy with the mass of the people, that he was led in the latter part of his life to advocate an essential modification of the system of college education, in order to open the doors of college to a larger number,-a plan, to say the least, of doubtful expediency.

Able men, who do not read extensively, are apt to have their pet books. This was probably true of Dr. Wayland. We do not count here Shakespeare and Walter Scott, the two authors to whom he most frequently referred,-a homage for whom would be no peculiarity; but we have in mind works of a different stamp. He recommended to the writer of these remarks, on beginning to study theology, Campbell's Dissertations on the Gospels, as not only a capital book, but as the book most deserving the attention of a theological student. Other examples of a like partiality, not, perhaps, entirely warranted, might be mentioned.

As a teacher, Dr. Wayland had preeminent gifts. If he did not, like Socrates, follow up the pupil with a perpetual crossexamination, he set before himself the same end,-that of eliciting the pupil's own mental activity. He aimed to spar him to the work of thinking for himself, and of thinking soundly. He had a spice of humor in his nature, and this lent additional zest to his terse, colloquial expressions in the classroom. The truth that there is nothing new under the sun, as far as the essential traits of man are concerned, he embodied in the saying, that "human nature has very few new tricks." On one occasion he had listened with his usual patience to the persistent questioning of a pupil as to how we know a certain intuitive truth or axiom. At length, his previous answers not having silenced the inquirer, he broke out with the emphatic response :-" how? by our innate, inborn gumption!" In these amicable conflicts with his pupils, he never took an unfair advantage, or contended for victory. On the contrary, he seemed desirous, as he really was, to do full justice to every objection, and, in alluding to writers who differed from him, to speak of them with personal respect. When the class of which the writer was a member took up the introductory part of his Moral Science, he mentioned that his views on the theory of Ethics had been controverted by Dr. N. W. Taylor, who, he added, was the ablest metaphysician in the country; and he told us where to find Dr. Taylor's adverse criticisms. Dr. Wayland exacted work of his pupils. He did not adopt the notion that studies are to be made so easy as not to require exertion. He thought that the mind should be trained to wrestle with a difficult subject. To remove from the intellect its infirmities and distempers,—as it were, with the aid of chloroform, the patient lying passive,-was not a process that accorded with his ideas of education. He demanded of his pupils carefully prepared recitations, and called on them to give, in their own words, an analysis of what they recited.

Dr. Wayland was a plain, thoughtful, solemn preacher. His early discourse on the Moral Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise, is the most famous of his sermons; and it contains very eloquent passages. The whole tenor of it agrees with the