Yale Collegi Library, through Dan. O. Gilma ・(Vol XII. No.1, 3.6.)

THE

LITTLE dreams the student, and less knows he, after having performed his silent and unvarying round of duties as an academician for years, of the difficulties which he must encounter, the trials which he must undergo, and the temptations which he must withstand or shun, or by which he must fall, when he shall be drawn from the still waters of college life, into the dashing and roaring whirlpool of a busy and selfish world-and little recks he. The trained war-horse is not more impatient at the sound of the trumpet, when he smelleth the battle afar off, than is the eager student to be one in the world's warfare, and feel the stern realities of the world's life. The one is as regardless as the other, of the fearful battle-shock which awaits him. Yet could he understand the advantages of his situation-of the Eden in which he dwells-he would not hunger for the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil which the world presents to his view. He would rest content with his lot, or regret rather to be torn from so enviable a retirement.

But the eager and inquiring human spirit was not extinguished, when died the first Adam. The train of mortality which was fired in him, flaming on through long centuries of its scorched It is pathway, now blazes in the bosoms of his younger sons. not therefore strange that it should be the wish of the student, when he has covered himself with the linked-mail of knowledge,

when he has bound his brow with the burnished helmet of thought, when he has firmly grasped the two-edged and glittering sword of truth, to rush forth upon the battle-plain of life, and prove himself a true knight in the cause which he may have espoused. It is natural; it is right. It is a spirit of noble daring which magnifies the advantages of success, and diminishes the magnitude of dangers to be encountered in the conflict. It is a spectacle of self-sacrificing philanthropy, where the one wearies out a life of labor and anxiety and care to alleviate in some measure the burdens of the many. To aid the mass, may not be his immediate object-but the result is the same, whatever may be his motive.

It may be, that most often the student is prompted by no higher motive than a wish for change. He is worn by the irksomeness of an unproductive study-he begins to loathe the unfruitfulness. of a constant seed-time. He sees too all the bright allurements which pleasure and society and ambition present to his view;those meteor lights which blaze, attract, and expire in the narrow atmosphere of the world alone-whose wild and eccentric bursts and flashes too often win his admiration and determine his pursuit;-while to the eye of wisdom, far away in the blue ether, beyond the influence of cloud or storm, burn on unquenchable the constant rays of goodness and charity and truth. But he sees not these; they are noiseless and unchanging, yet nevertheless giving such a soft and balmy light as hath healing in it, and swelling up such tides of philanthropy as shall deluge the world. He follows unwarily after those ignes fatui

"Which lead to bewilder, and dazzle to blind."

He has not yet learned that the unquiet spirit of man goes about seeking happiness and finding none; he has not proved the stern truth of the declaration, that man walketh in a vain shadow and disquieteth himself in vain. He has not schooled himself to bear misfortune, and steeled his heart against disappointment. He has not submitted himself to the apathy of a worldly philosophy. In a word, he knows neither the world nor himself. He is impatient of the discipline which demands an earnest diligence in the business of life. Hence his expectation accomplishes nothing, being unaided by a corresponding well-directed action.

Experience then is what the student needs. He must learn the folly of vain pursuits, not from the experience of others, but from his own. It is true he may learn much theoretically from the experience of others, but it is what he learns practically from his own that establishes belief. All, it is true, do not require this personal experience. Many minds seem to possess a sort of intuitive wisdom, which penetrates all the dis