114 SEMINARY COURSE AT ANDOV£R. TO 11-IRS. HARDY. ANDOVER, N ouember 7, 1871. I believe I have not written to you since I saw you at Salem. I suppose you know what some old-school men say in regard to their trying to be perfect. They say we shall be perfect to-morrow or some fut.ure time. '\\Then to-morrow comes they will say the same and will never be perfect. So I have been deferring my writing to you thus far, saying, "I will do it to­morrow." When the next day comes I said, "I must read up Edwards on the Will, and also write an essay for our discussion," and deferred my writing to some future time. I have been attending Profes­sor Park's lectures, and have got theory enough to be a new-school man, and have made up my mind to do or to be as I believe, that is to say : " I will do it now, tkis moment j I will no longer defer it till to­morrow." Though I have nothing particular to say, yet I should like to inform you something about my study. I am attending Professor Park's lectures and reading along with them. It may be the hardest year in the seminary, because it requires so much close attention and thinking. My study reminds me my trip to White Mountains. It was rather hard for me to climb up the mountains, but the grandeur of sur­rounding scene excited my ambition and aspiration to go up still higher so that I might get better view of wondrous nature. So I have just begun to take my most del~ghtful trip in the intellectual and spirit­ual fields. It is not my question how far my destiny may be,· but simply go as far as I can and do as much my strength permits, leaving all my future in the hand o£ Him who sees all the affairs of the universe from the endless to the endless.