with the college that to sit under his mild empire is like
resting beneath one of these wide-branching elms the breadth of whose
shade is only a measure of the hold its roots have taken in the soil. In
the midst of civil strife we, the children of this our common mother,
have come together in peace. And surely there never was a time when we
more needed a brief respite in some chosen place of refuge, some
unviolated sanctuary, from the cares and anxieties of our daily
existence than at this very hour. Our life has grown haggard with
excitement. The rattle of drums, the march of regiments, the gallop of
squadrons, the roar of artillery, seem to have been continually sounding
in our ears day and night, sleeping and waking, for two long years and
more. How few of us have not trembled and shuddered with fear over and
over again for those whom we love. Alas! how many that hear me have
mourned over the lost--lost to earthly sight, but immortal in our love
and their country's honor! We need a little breathing-space to rest from
our anxious thoughts, and, as we look back to the tranquil days we
passed in this still retreat, to dream of that future when in God's good
time, and after his wise purpose is fulfilled, the fair angel who has so
long left us shall lay her hand upon the leaping heart of this embattled
nation and whisper, "Peace! be still!"

Here of all places in the world we may best hope to find the peace we
seek for. It seems as if nothing were left undisturbed in New England
except here and there an old graveyard, and these dear old College
buildings, with the trees in which they are embowered. The old State
House is filled with those that sell oxen and sheep and doves, and the
changers of money. The Hancock house, the umbilical scar of the cord
that held our city to the past, is vanishing like a dimple from the
water.

But Massachusetts, venerable old Massachusetts, stands as firm as ever;
Hollis, this very year a centenarian, is waiting with its honest red
face in a glow of cordiality to welcome its hundredth set of inmates;
Holden Chapel, with the skulls of its Doric frieze and the unpunishable
cherub over its portals, looks serenely to the sunsets; Harvard, within
whose ancient walls we are gathered, and whose morning bell has murdered
sleep for so many generations of drowsy adolescents, is at its post,
ready to startle the new-fledged freshmen from their first uneasy
slumbers. All these venerable edifices stand