Princeton University - Nassau Herald Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

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18 THE NASSAU HERALD. and the sense of parting has crept upon us like a feeling of pain. I. Even as the emigrant leaving his native land looks back from the deck of the ship upon the land of his birth, already beginning to grow dim in the distance, so we look back to-day upon our past, we recall the generous rivalries that have marked it, those kindly struggles where victor and vanquished could both share in the success. We recall the home life of Princeton which clusters about certain pleasant rooms, which are the holy of the holies of 'our college recollections. We recall the manly sympathy which has brightened our joys and lightened half the burden of our sorrows. And we cannot but wish that in the future we may find rivals as generous, victors as kindly, and sympathy as ready, as we have among our classmates of '85, It is quite true that our blessings brighten as they take their iight, and it may be that we exaggerate to-day the joys of the past four years. Exaggerate the honesty of our rivalries, the generosity of our impulses, our good will and the abounding pleasantness of our work here, and quite forget the -selfishness, the bitterness of the past, and the grinding, often apparently useless, toil. These latter have existed, for college life is but mortal life. College friendships are very precious to-day, but there have been times when we have cried out with Emerson, Friends, such as we desire, are dreams and fables. There have been times when we have tired of all this training for life, and have looked with quickened longing onto life itself And so to-day, although there is a feeling of sorrow at part- ing, the absorbing thought for us is the future, and it lies before us misty and vague, suggesting wondrous things to the imagination. A bow of promise is arched over it, at whose ends lie treasures of fame, of gold, of power. I can say truly, we feel like the little child, eager to rush out in the rain, over the Wet fields, through the swollen brooks, to find the fabled pot of gold that lies at the end of the rain- bow's path. Away with thoughtsiof doubt or hesitation.

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THE NASSAU HERALD. 11 Glass Elratiim. BY DUNCAN EDWARDS, N. Y. DEAR CLASSMATES : Amid the emotions of this time and place he who is your Class Orator cannot but feel his duty to be doubly sacred and ditlicult. Amidst the excitement of the day, amidst these joyous ceremonies of Commence- ment, he is to voice for you the rising pangs of sorrow at parting with the beloved scenes and associations of Princeton. Like the ivy upon its walls, our affections have been cling- ing very closely to Nassau Hall, and only now We begin to realize how tightly they have wrapped their tendrils about the time-stained buildings. The campus with its tall trees, as we have seen them in autumn dropping their withered leaves in heaps upon the familiar paths, as we have seen them in winter with their long, thin arms wrapped in white mufrs of snow, as we have seen t-hem in such summer morn- ings as the present, full-leaved, moist with dew, and bathed in sunshine, the campus, with its grand lines of buildings, grand no less in the beauty of the present than in historical perspective, the campus, which has witnessed our enthusi- asm, blazed with our tires, and resounded with our cheers, has become endeared to us as a personal friend. And as we have lately sat together' through the long June evenings on the steps of Old North, with our eyes upon the fair, green, familiar face of that campus, and our voices swell- ing together in the songs of Old Nassau, we have felt our hearts drawn closer to each other, the spirit of our class relationship, the fellowship of common feelings, common experience, common aspirations, has become almost tangible, 2 .

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THE' NASSA U H ERA LD. 19 These plans, these prospects, these fancied achievements are glorious possibilities. The earth is still the garden ofthe Lord! But, alas! the child is in the mire, the rainbow has vanished, and there is no pot of gold to be found. So, at the outset, let us not be dazzled by the prizes of life, for we have looked about us to little purpose if we have not seen that the vast majority of mankind end life in the mire with the sad conviction that they have been pursuing phantoms. There is no great need for me to urge you to action. In the fierce competition of modern life a man is often enough dug in the side by an exhortation to work. Every pulpit preaches energy, every oration implores us to clear the way for men of action. The whirring looms, the throbbing engines, the huge furnaces that night and day pant hot and hungry, all hum in our ears the word tt work. This is the magic key that will open the lock for us, and what a garden of reward is painted to our hopes! We are pointed to a picture of material prosperity. White sails flecking the broad seas, tall masts towering above the busy warehouses, iron steeds running hither and thither over the face of the earth, from where agriculture sits amidst her bursting sacks of grain to all the busy marts where the sooty factories rattle with their clanging, clatter- ing machinery. We are shown man everywhere bending heaven and earth as slaves to his knowledge and pleasure, robbing the 'clouds of their life tp, whisper his words over miles of land and sea, and deeply probing the great heart of the earth for warmth and power. All materials are held out as food for a strenuous hunger for work. The human race are rapidly becoming all nerves that are forever ting- ling. We need not expect that amidst all this rush we can sit with our arms idly folded. The picture the world paints is intended to teach no such lesson. We shall soon enough give way to the incentives to work, and our nerves will tingle in sympathy with those of the restless multitudes around us. But is this all that life is to have for us in the future, work, action, a strenuous endeavor, a feverish beat-