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VI.

THE SIXTH ADDRESS

* TO THE GRADUATING CLASS AT ST. MARY'S HALL.

THE CROSS, THE ONLY HOPE.

BELOVED CHILDREN:-Your feet have reached the line, to which your eyes have looked so long. A moment, more; and it is passed. Another step; and you are in the world. It is a world of trial. It is a world of trouble. It is a world of sin. It is a world of death. Have you laid hold of that, which can alone support you in it? Have you embraced the Cross?

I. It is a world of trial. Oh, how soon, you are to find it so! It will try your feelings. You have been sheltered here. It is a little, peaceful haven, where the winds of life are scarcely felt. Once, out at sea, and they will beat upon you, with relentless fury. Winds of unkindness. Winds of disappointment. Winds of adversity. Winds of destruction. Shoals. Sunken rocks. Breakers. A lee shore. No canvass, but will

*March, A. D. 1850.

split. No plank, that will not yawn. No anchor that will hold. Or, only one, that blessed, bleeding Cross. It will try your tempers. Here, few conflicting interests. Here, few disturbing forces. Here, scarce the thought of rivalry. There, fiercest competition. There, unrelenting opposition. There, "war unto the knife." To enter that arena, with natures, wild, ungoverned, and unsancti fied, is to go, a wild beast, among wild beasts; to strife, to struggle, and to death. Only the lamb-like can have peace. Only the Cross can yield the lamb. It will try your principles. Here, you have lived by rule. Here, you have stood, with help. Here, you have walked with guides. There, you must be a rule unto yourselves. You must stand, in your own strength. You must walk, in your own light. What, but the Cross, can guide, support, direct? Have you embraced

the Cross?

II. It is a world of trouble. It has found you, even here. For we are born, to trouble, "as the sparks fly upward." We breathe it, as we breathe the air. But, in the world, and as the way of life grows longer, troubles will multiply and thicken; as, in the summer noon, the clouds are blackest and most frequent, and the bolts most fierce and fatal. In what shape, they may come, God knows. Sickness, poverty, persecution. The eye of envy, the tongue of slander, the hand of violence. Loneliness, dependence, destitution. Hopes deferred. Peace invaded. Love betrayed. The failure of plans, the disappointment of purposes, the death of

friends. Have you secured a shelter, my beloved? Have you embraced the Cross?

III. It is a world of sin. We have, always, sinful hearts; and, everywhere. And, even here, the struggle, for the mastery, is sharp and fierce. But, in the world, temptations multiply. In the world, evil examples throng. In the world, the opportunities of prayers, the means of grace, the helps of holiness, are few and far between. It is a downward, slippery, path. You walk alone in it. Or, you are urged forward, by the impulse of the crowd. Or, you are jostled, by the struggling. Or, you are overthrown by the falling, or the fallen. The eye has come to look on sinful practices, till they lose half their ugliness. The heart has been in contact with evil influences, till it has ceased to shudder. Familiarity takes the grossness from impurity. Company lends confidence to impiety. The attraction of the earthly increases. The charm of the heavenly is lost. The whispers of conscience grow faint. The memories of childhood are faded. The Heavenly Dove has been resisted; till It wings Itself, for flight. God has been disregarded, till His mercy is kindling into wrath. There is but a single refuge. In a moment more, the hope of rescue may be lost. Have you an advocate, with the Father? Have you laid hold of the sole hope for sinners? Have you embraced the Cross?

IV. It is a world of death. Not an instant, that some do not fall. The knell is never silent. The funeral train is never out of sight. The ground is full of graves.

VOL. IV.-8

The place, for yours, is marked.

Already, the green

sod is broken. The third day's sun may shine upon your tomb. Can you see, through it, to the Saviour? Will you lie down, in it, with Him? Is His blood upon you, as the sign of your salvation? Have you embraced

His Cross?

Beloved children, let these questions sink into your heart. Give yourselves no rest, till you can answer them, as, at the day of judgment, you will be glad you did. Do not rise from off your knees, now, for the last time, in this sacred place, without the fervent prayer, that God will make you His, by a true, living, penitential faith, in Jesus Christ, His Son. Believe me, if the seeds, sown here, have made no root, there must be fearful hardness in your hearts. Believe me, if the dews, shed here, have had no power to soften it, it must be rent with fire. Believe me, in the hour of trial, in the hour of trouble, in the hour of sin, in the hour of death, the memories, which shall cling most closely to your nature, with the keenest pang of sorrow, or the most exulting thrill of joy, will be the memories of these scenes of your childhood; will be the memory of this peaceful parting hour; will be the memory of that pale and pleading Cross.

As I gaze, to-day, with touched and trembling heart, upon your fond, familiar forms, endeared to me, by years of watchfulness and prayer, there stand, with. you, the shrouded and sepulchral shapes of daughters, dear to me, in other years, as you are, now, whom death has garnered in the grave. Hear, what a poor,

heart-broken father writes to me, of one of them; and pray, that, whether you go, young, to join her; or wait longer, on God's will, her last end may be "You yours. will doubtless remember, that my beloved and dear daughter,* was, for some years, a pupil of yours, at St. Mary's Hall. I presume, ere this, you have learned, that she is no more. She departed from this world, on the 9th of December last; in the calm hope of a better life, and in sweet reliance on our risen Redeemer. I am sure, you have already dropped tears, to her memory; and sympathized with me, in my irreparable bereavement. You know much of her history. How dear to me. How lovely at school. How caressed at home. The Diploma, which she received, at your hands, hung always in her bedroom; and was among the last objects which she saw, before her eyes closed forever. She always spoke of your excellent Institution, as a happy home to her; and her prayers were fervent, for the prosperity of St. Mary's Hall." "I can say, most truly, though I do it most reverently, that my heart is broken. I cannot stop my tears." "And I write this chiefly to say, that I think she was mainly indebted to your Institution, for those Heavenward influences, in which she participated, to the last moment of her life."

Beloved children, shall it not be so with you? She had embraced the Cross. Have you? Or, will you not? Will you not embrace His Cross, who tore His loving heart, wide open, that it might take you in?

Mrs. Agnes Matilda Reed, wife of William C. Reed, Esq., and daughter of the Hon. Aaron Clark, late Mayor of New York. She graduated at St. Mary's Hall, in September, 1845.

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