IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I m £f m :s u& 12.0 23 2.2 IL25 iU ). ..> HiotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 4^ ■1>^ <^ 23 weST MAIN STMliT WIBSTM.N.Y. 145M (71«)t72-4S03 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/iCIVIH Collection de microfiches. Cn.<«.n ln.tltu» for Hi.t.ric.l Micr.,.productlon. / .n.tltut «..«<««. d. micro«pr«luctl.n. h.«.rt,u« vV Technical and Bibliographic Notaa/Notaa tachniquaa at bibiiographiquas Tha inatituta haa attamptad to obtain tha baat original copy avallabia for filming. Faaturaa of thia copy which may ba bibliographlcally unlqua. which may altar any of tha Imagaa in tha raproductlon, or which may aignificantly changa tha uaual mathod of filming, ara ehackad balow. □ Colourad covara/ Couvartura da coulaur p~| Covara damaged/ D n Couvartura andommag^a Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurte et/ou pelliculAe I — I Cover title miaaing/ La titre de couverture manque I I Coloured mapa/ Cartes gtegraphiquas en couleur □ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noirei □ Coloured plataa and/or illustrations/ Planchea et/ou illustrations an couleur r~T1 Bound with other material/ Iv ' RaiiA avac d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La re liura serrAe peut ceuser de Tombre om de la distortion la long de la marge inttrieure D Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever poaaibia, theae have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certainaa pages blanches aJoutAea lore d'une restauration apparaissent dans la texte, mais, lorsque cela ttait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t4 filmAes. Additional comments:/ Commentaires supplimentaires; L'Institut a microf llmA la meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 4tA poaaibia da se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui aont paut-Atre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite. ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mAthoda normale de f ilmage aont indiquAa ci-dassous. I I Colourad pages/ D Pagea da couleur Pagea damaged/ Pagea andommagAas Pages restored and/oi Pages reataurias et/ou pelliculAes Pages discoloured, stained or foxei Pages dAcolorAes. tachettes ou piquAes Pages detached/ Pages ditachies Showthrough/ Transparence Quality of prin Qualit^ inAgala de I'impression Includes supplementary matarit Comprend du materiel supplimentaire Only edition available/ Seule Edition disponible I — I Pagea damaged/ I I Pages restored and/or laminated/ r~n Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ I I Pages detached/ FT] Showthrough/ rri Quality of print varies/ |~~1 Includes supplementary material/ rn Only edition available/ The tot The poa of film! Ori( beg the aioi othi firal aion or Tha ahal TINl whii Map diff« antii begl right requ metl Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc.. have beon refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc.. ont M filmies A nouveau de fapon A obtenir la meilleure image possible. This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est filmA au taux de rMuction indiquA ci-dessous. 10X 14X 18X 22X MX 30X s/ 12X 16X 20X , 24X 28X 32X Th« copy film«d hmn ham b—n r«produc«d thanks to th« a«n«rotity of: Univanfty off SMkatchmvan Sailcatoon L'oxomplairo film* fut roproduit grico k la 04nirosit4 do: Univwtity of Saikatchcwan SMkaloon Tho imaflot appoaring horo aro tho boat qualKy potaiblo conaidorlng tho condition and logibility of tho original copy and in Icooping with tho filming contract spaciflcations. Original copiot in printed |>apor covora ara filmad beginning with tho front covor and anding on tho last pago with a printod or illustratad impras- sion, or tho bacic covor whon approprlata. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impression. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol — ^> (meaning "CON- TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), whichever applies. Las images suivantes ont titi reproduites avec is plus grand soin, compto tenu de ia condition at do la nettet* de I'exemplaire film«, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de fllmage. Les exemplaires originaux dont ia couvsrture en papier est ImprimAe sent filmfo en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par ia dornlAro page qui comporte une empreinte d'Impresslon ou d'illustration. soit par is second plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmAs en commenpant par la premlAre page qui comporte une empreinte d'Impresslon ou d'illustration et en terminant par la derni#re page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dornlAre image de cheque microfiche, salon le cas: le symbols -^> signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Los cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre filmte A des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsqus ie document est trop grand pour Atre roproduit en un soul clich*, ii est fiimA A partir de I'angie supArieur gauche, de gauche it droite. et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent ia mAthode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 S 6 Delivi /. EDUCATIOIf AND LIFE. ^,. i AN ADDRESS Delivered at the Opening of tlie Thirty-second Session of Queen's University, Kingston, Canada, BY ^^ JOHN WATSON, M.A. LJBf.fUlY Profetsor qf Logic and Ethics. .N^!^ ■i^i^O ' ^/At^dl^&h<^ Published by the Alma Mater Society of Queen's Univej U^!!V::^S!TY S'S'.CATOON ^ y li t i t : .' t \ A 'ItolenibH -jliotaiiy .niuro dl lion-pro| -affairs '^ by the I u; ■ ■ > > ■ ' 1 Ml ■>, .J ■ . ■: Lir.MRY ^^^S^slT^ .■:yy> ADDRESS. r . I that It is an opinion somewliat widely diffused in tliis country he higher education, which it is tlie special object of sucli an Institution as this to give, is only useful to those who are about o enter uj^on a professional career. It muy be of importance o those who are to be placed in a sphere of life which demands t least a moderate amount of scholarship, to spend a number ,§i)f years at a university, but for those who are to be engaged ^n the j)ract'cal work of life such a training is unnecessary ; it ^anks at best no higher than a graceful accomplishment, and ay therefore — perhaps advantageously — be dispensed with, t may be fit and proper that the clergy should have a classical iducation, so that they may be enabled to avail themselves of hatever new light the original documents shed upon the criptures, and to consult those early Christian writers who lade the Latin tongue the vehicle of their thoughts ; it may e advisable for students of law to study that wonderful system f jurisprudence, which was won for us by the experience and agacity of ancient Home, in the language in which it was |written ; medical men may find it of advantage to have a olerable actpiaintance with Liatin, and some knowledge of 3otany and Chemistry, as well as of those subjects which are ^lore directly connected with their common duties ; but for ■;:iion-professional men, who have to deal with the practical latiairs of lite, such a training is quite superfluous. A good fcommercial education, in fine — such an education as is supplied f by the public schools — is the best preparation for an active life l:. 4 AN ADDRESS ON of business, and no other is requisite or bonolicial. That this is substantially the tlioory held by a largo number, cither tacitly or openly, is evidenced by the conspicuous absence from our universities of all, or almost all, except those who are destined fur one of the learned professions. Tlie assumption that underlies this way of thinking is, that the proper discharge of a particular office is all that can be demanded or expected of any one, and, as a consequence, that no education other than what is required for this end is needed. l^ut, in the first place, is not this presupposition incompatible with the conditions of life as they exist in a civilized commu- nity ? And is not the theory of education based upon it there- fore untenable ? If it can be shown that society, as at present constituted, would fall to pieces if we granted the validity of this view, we cannot but suspect that the conception of life it involves is fundamentally iinj)crfect, and the superstructure raised upon it weak and unsafe. If it is im})ossible to exist in a state without being more than a mere instrument of business, and therefore without some extra-technical knowledge, wo must conclude either that modern society is based upon an essentially false pflnciple, or that the theory is itself radically unsound. And, secondly, even if such a theory is capable of being practically carried out, we must still ask whether the fulfilment of its conditions is really desirable and fitted to Becure the highest good of mankind. Is it possible, then, let us ask, for men living under the complex civilization of modern times to limit themselves entirely to their practical avocation in life ? The very asking of this question is almost suflicient to show that only a negative answer can be given. I shall not insist upon the evident fact that the existence of the family and the responsibilities it entails is an essential condition of modern society, and that this of itself involves relations distinct from those of bus! toss. It is of more importance for our present purpose to point out that there are social and political duties from which we can only escape by giving up life itself. As citizens we must interest EDUCATION AKD LIFE. i loursolvos, directl}' or indirectly, in the weltUre of the cominu- liiity to which we belong. Aa memborB of the Btotie wo are neccBBarily, from the very nature of our rcprosentative goverw- jment, immediately interested in the prosperity of our country. [And, as no civilized nation can now live the isolated life which was poBdible in ancient times and under a simpler ordor of society, we mu&t enlarge our field of view so as to take in the I condition of mankind at large. A thousand questions of the (Utmost importance, and of a character so intricate as to require [the most cautious consideration and the most finely balanced [judgment, are thus continually pressing themselves upon our notice and demanding a rational answer. It is true that we may throw our individual responsibility upon others, but in so > doing we act in a way that, if univereally carried out, would either lead to a despotic form of government or to the direst anarchy [and confusion. It is evident, therefore, that modern society could not exist if the assumption that man's duties are bounded by his peculiar avocation were consistently acted upon. And if the progress of civilization has entailed upon all the respon- sibility of taking a pereonal interest in those subjects which affect the common weal, the importunce S correct views on such topics is clearly undeniable. In a country in which government is practically vested in the people, whose repre- sentatives act in accordance with their wishes, the only moans of securing a thoroughly wise legislation is by the possession and exorcise of a high intelligence by the people. Let states- men bo over so wise, they cannot act in direct violation of the will of their constituents. They may, and often do, take the lead in the reform of abuses, but only those of them who take pains to make themselves acquauitcd with the prevalent opinions of the country, or who have the faculty of foreseeing the point towards which public feeling is insensibly drifting, can hope to bring forward measures which will find general acceptance and be productive of beneficial results. Tlie pros- perity of a country, therefore, it may be stated broadly, is measurable by the collective wisdom of its people. If they are I ||, ) I # AN ADDRESS ON apathetic and indiiferent in regard to (inestiona of public importance, the nation Binks into a contemptible obscurity ; whereas a strong and healthy interest in such questions is tit once the evidence and the cause of over-increasing prosperity. Now, can a high public intelligence be produced by a merely technical training ? Evidently not. As a matter of fact, an exclusively technical training is inevitably hostile to wide and liberal views ; tending as it does to superinduce a host of per- sonal or class prejudices. This distortion of judgment clearly requires to be counterbalanced by a kind of education, which, by widening the field of observation, will generate the habit of considering, in all cases, not merely what seems most beneticiHl to one's self, or even one's country, but what will conduce to the elevation of the race. Wliat is the best mode of providing this antidote to narrowness of judgiucnt I shall afterwards enquire. Enough has been said to show that ])urcly technical knowledge is impossible M'ithout an entire revolution of the present order of society. Men are compelled to form judg- ments upon questions that have no evident connection with their ordinary work in life ; and unless we are prepared to say that, while it requires a special training to form correct judg- ments in regard to business matters, the decision of the still more complicated questions of social and political life may be safely left to chance, we must admit that some kind of liberal education is essential for the fit discharge of those duties which a man owes to his fellow-citizens, to his country, and to the world. The choice ibrccd upon us really io, whether the settling of grave and important questions is to be left to acci- dent and caprice, or wlicthcr wi^fdom does not counsel us to adopt the more rational course of so developing the intelligence of the country as to i-endcr habitual a liberal and far-reaching method of thought. Which of these alternatives it is right to accept, no one can for a mument doubt. j ■ ^ s . Starting from tlie assumption that modern society rests upon sound principles, wc have seen that a training other than tech- nical is essential to the general welfare: and I shall now f public ibscurit)' ; Ition^ ifl nt rosperity. a merely f fact, an wide and iRt of per- il t elejirly n, whic'li ic liiibit of beneticiHl oiuluce to providing' iiftcrwardri / technical ion of till' brin judg- ction with ired to say *rect jndg- of the still ife may be : of liberal ities which ind to the lether the ft to acci- nsel us to itiilligence r-icaehing is right to rests upon than tech- shall now EDUCATION AND LIFE. 7 idoavour to show, by a closer investigation into the relation education to life, that the theory, which aaeumes that the ily object of education is to fit each man for best disobarging is peculiar avocation, implies a totally false conception of inuin existence. It is an indisputable fact that all those char- sturistics which go to make up an advanced civilization — jfganized industry, liberal institutions, high intellectual and )ral life — are displayed in their greatest perfection by the jutonic races. We might almost conclude, therefore, without Irthor investigation, that the zealous cultivation of trade and )nmierce naturally dcvelopes the various powers of man to a pgh degree of perfection. Wo do not, however, require to mtent ourselves with this rough ge leralization, which might fter all be lalhicious ; wo can discover the reason as well as »e fact. A comparison of modern society with the t ndition man in his lowest stage shows that in the former there is a Mnarkablc degree of complexity as compared with the latter, [en are now drawn into much closer relations, and are more jpendent upon each other, than in a more primitive mode of f(9. The savage who lived by hunting and fishing was almost itiroly independent of othera. He was only moved to activity the cravings of natural appetite, and as soon as these were Mnporurily allayed ho relapsed into a state of apathy and tdolence. His wants being almost purely animal, and his 2sire8 of the simplest kind, he was able to unite in his own irson those numerous occupation? which are now required to ipply the necessities of life for even a single person. It is rue that even at this earliest stage absolute independence was |npo8siblo. Children had to be nourished until they were papable of providing for their own wants, and thus the germ Iff the family relation was implanted ; while the necessity of viBeking the help of blood-relations for defence against enemies inded to knit men together into tribes. But, with these mceptions, the savage M'as independent of others. This simple %ode of life is now completely altered. We are dependent in ^ thousand ways upon others for our daily sustenance, as well ( I 8 AN ADDRE88 ON as for tliose inany comforts and rcqniromonts, witliout which we can hardlj conceive of life aa even tolerable. Is this state of things more truly l)enoficial than that simple mode of life which partially survives amongst existing savage tribes ) It undoubtedly is ; nor is the reason far to seek. It is only by mutual dopcndenrc ujxjn each other that the lK58t powers of men are called forth into exercise. Wide-spread industry tends to eliminate purely self-referent interests ; by bringing men into more intimate relations with each other, it generates that mutual trust and confidence which result in a healthy tone of public morality. Tlio individual freely contributes his share of labour for the good of the whole, and is rewarded by finding that }i€ has himself unexpectedly gaineortcnlli8, its men-at-arms and sentinels ; while he haini^ of serfs. And yet the peer of to- day is more secure, without any defensive appliances, than tho liaron with his embattled tower, and better served by free labourers than he would be by the enforced toil of serfs. With the development of social industry has grown up mutual trust- fulness between all ranks and classes ; with the liberation of the masses, greater energy, industry and unselfishness. Carlylc. indeed, has said that the i»rinciple of modern society is "freedoiti. without bond or connection except cash payment," while in feudal times men were united by the "bond of honour." ErUOATIOW AlfD UTR. 9 8 ; while lie llgainst this implied intbriority of these, ns compared with jt times, I emi)h»iticftliy })rotcRt. The Ho-cHlled '* bond of )n()ur" wjw in reftlity a bond ai force. The feudal lord was )rpetually at war with his neighbonrg, and had to guard con- lually against the treachery of inferiore ; his vassals were for rer ([uarroiling amongst themselves. Nor is it one whit truer it cash payment is now the only bond of connection ; the d nexm is commercial honesty and trustworthiness — a kind "honour" infinitely higher than the sulky submission of a iron to his suzerain, or the stupid obedience of a serf to his ^ndal lord. It is true that this mutual trust, which is the very >ndition of an industrial system, opens nj) the way for a vio- Uion of faith: but this is tiie exception and not the rule, or nety could not exist for a single hour. It took the world kme thousands of years to learn the lesson that the good of all isses is best secured by the freedom of each. The principle ancient as of medieval society was that the forcible subjec- )n of the lower classes is essential to the well-being of the )per ; the industrial system of to-day assumes that higher }ults are attained by free contract and voluntary labour. So ig as the lawful claim of every man to be fiec was denied Id set at naught, human nature was cramped and impeded in natural development; with the recognition of tlie inalienable fht of freedom, a new state i)f things was inaugurated, which, though to this day it admits of inthingness. Let it be shown that the simpler life of primitive sofMcty produced more ])erfe('t men, and it would be our dutv to sot about det.trovin'; tlie i)'-oducts of lonff centuries and of tJK! toil of millions — our skill'ully constructed machinery, our nol lo buildings, our wide-reaching connnercial arrange- ments, and to return to the huts and rude life of savages. Wo cannot. Iiowever, thrust back the tide of civilization to its source : and that not morel v because we are too indolent to throw ort' the habits of modern life, but because, having emerged into a ]>urcr atmosi)here and a clearer light, we cannot go back to the rude and stiHing abodes of our forefathers. The industrial life of modern times, with all its imperfections, is more littod to nourish and develop the intellectual and spritual life of tiie indi\idual, and to Ibstcr a high tone of public morality, than any other; and in this alone lies its right to exist. The j)rinciplc which we have discovered to be the true end of practical life — the princii)]e that society, in its industrial aspect, exists for the purpose of evolving the mei.tal and moral and R])ritual powers latent in human nature — is also the key to a true cnnception t>f education. One of the greatest of .incient 1 )hilosophers, with that wonderful insight into human life for which h(! was distinguished, sketched an ideal State, the ruling idea of which was that all its energies should be directed towards the physical, intellectual and moral training of its members. And not only did IMato rightly view the state as one vast educational estaltlishment ; he also saw that, if it is to be at nearly i)erfect as the inevitable failings of humanity rill a retica Tor V )eing leave! 3nds latur )erfe( pespe( In the for ite [it wil [evanc [educii lis exc [variet (those the k the dl again has to sclf-i other bias, sup class ^ will dj to h 5 prop fro II com sy 1 1 1 hoiii not nial justification pleasures ; tern, which, iiiinister to e lower and Is full iiitol- b'st ; all else h and drop )pler life of it would be ng centuries d niac'hinerv, •ial arrauge- avages, "VVe zation to its indolent to ause, having ht, we cannot fathers. The )erfections, is 1 and sp ritual ne of })ublic s its right to the true end its industrial tal and moral Iso the key to est of ancient unian life for ite, the ruling be directed •aining of its ' the state as r that, if it is of humanity EDUCATION AND LIFE. 11 rill allow, there is required some special training of a theo- lietical kind, in addition to that atforded by a life of industry. iFor while practical life is undoubtedly essential to the well- Mbeing, at once of the individual, of society and of the race, it Peaves much of our nature undeveloped ; and in so doing really Itends to its deterioration. The mind of man is of such a lature that the absence of what is essential to its highest )erfection produces a proportionate degradation in other respects. What is not for it is against it. If it is not trained ^n the proper direction, it inevitably seeks a downward path [for itself Tf it is not tilled with great and ennobling thoughts, [it will seek to find satisfaction in what is mean, and petty and 'evanescent. The fundamental mistake of a purely technical [education is, that it tends to concentrate the mind upon what lis exclusively personal, and thus to warp the judgment by a variety of prejudices. And this is especially the case with those who are engaged in commercial affairs. The members of the learned professions, while they are by no means freed from the danger of narrowness of thought, find a certain safeguard against it in that breadth of view which all intellectual labour has a tendencv to foster. It is otherwise with those devoted to business, where the temptations to indulge in inordinate self-interest are peculiarly strong ; and hence they, above all others, require such a training as will counteract this unhappy bias. What is needed is an education other than practical life I supplies, which, by raising the mind above purely personal or cliiss interests, and fixing it upon more im})ersonal subjects, will generate a love of all that is fitted to elevate mankind, and to hasten on the progress of humanity. Men, if we will properly consider it, fall into errors of juerficial progress ii jan, who ^ible moo )sse6sed in not fai ^e are m le univ(>| i^osom of do nc Ire indisi: |nd maj Son of t| seling al litters il •o vast (way fr(| autifu] >ye of the sterl lystem EDUCATION AND LIFE. 13 best. But liBhonestv [it is ponie- |y to foster lit foolish society as tween the tly made, Inseparably fttj iinpei- tion in the ifusion and ) order and IS altliough no riglit- Jut the real 3t promoted lid iced and idy seen, to those many ; and when opics are to y^ or left to sitate for a cept ? ^h it is the ' calculated nctical life, human life the studies abundantly I from the 3n, and to subjects by those who , arc natur- lly divided into three classes — natural science, philosophy and ^liiloloojy. Very little need be said in regard to the importance |f physical science. However much so-called "practical" men lay be disposed to undervalue other departments of knowledge, lere at least the immenso advantages are too palpable to be Overlooked. Without the apparatus which science has placed our disposal — our ships, railroads, machinery, telegraphs — (vilization would have stopped centuries ago. What a wide kterval i;: there between the feeble powers of reckoning of [rimeval man and the intricate demonstrations of Euclid ! N'oin Euclid and Archimedes to our own times — nay, from !!epler and Newton to Herschel and Faraday — what brilliant liscoveries have testified to the nobility of the human intellect, \(\ opened up worlds of beauty and grandeur, beside which ^le first vague imaginations of an earlier time are flimsy and iperticial ! A contemplation of the gradual but steady kogress made from the first crude notions of the untutored lan, who cowered in fear .ind trembling before the unintelli- |ible moods of Nature, to the calm, reverential knowledge now )st^essed of the inner necessities which regulate her aspects, innot fail to afford a perennial source of wonder and delight. '^e are sometimes called upon to bow before the sublimity of le universe as shown in the countless worlds that lie on the |osom of illimitable space ; but, awe-inspiring as this spectacle I, do not the changeless laws by which those mighty orbs Ire itidissolubly linked together and move in ordered harmony ind majesty, teach a lesson nobler st'll ? Can any considera- pon of tlie mere number of the stars awaken such an exalted joling as the perception that the tiniest globule of dew that flitters in the sunlight is the centre ot a circumference of forces )o vast to be limited or imagined ? Although science turns Iway from the infinite variety of form and colour, and tiie jautiful play of light and shade, which nature presents to the lye of sense, it reveals a beauty of another and highcM- kind — Pie stern beauty of thought, of order and law, of harmony and lystem amidst seeming disorder and incoherence. And, as the m W;: / ! if. n n 14 AN ADDRESS ON houndiiries of science are puslied ever t'urtlier and fiirtlier back, | ■with what new delijj;ht does tlio stndent of nature discover that Bciences, believed to be disconnected, cotnidenient and harmonize ■with cadi other, and tliat laws which seemed at first distinct, are but divergent instances of a hiji^her law! Nor are the advantages of the study of nature intellectual merely. Science not only impresses upon \i8 how M'ondcrfully all nature hangs- together, and thus eidargos our view beyond our own petty domain, but it assists in teaching us the all-important lesson of self-sacrifice. The scientific discoveries that have made man the lord, instead of the slave, of nature, are the result of no fortunate stumbling u])on truth, but of the most painstakinj; 1 and sedulous in<[uiiics ; for only those wliose unswerving devo- tion luis proved them to be worthy are })orniitted to lift the veil of nature. The illuslrious discoverers, who have done so much to benefit their race, had to give up repose and ease for Bcvere mental toil, and — what is much more difficult — to sur- render lonpr-cherished opinions and ])reposse8sions at the demand of truth. lie who seeks, with singleness of purpose, to discover the secrets of nature, must throw aside all fancies and guesses that will not harnumizo with fact, however long and fondly he has cherished them. He may ''scorn delights and live laborious days" in the eager desire to verify a favourite hypothesis, and, finding after all that he has not seized the right clue, be compelled to begin his labours afre.sh. If we consider all the sacrifices which have thus been juade by meii who so yearned for truth tliat no false glare could induce them to swerve from their direct path, surely we at once gain high views of life, purity our minds by conta(!t with genuine nobility, and learn the moral lesson that "we are made perfect through suft'eritig!" The study of the outer world is one great means of developing and strengthening the intellectual and moral pov.-ers ; but, marvellous as are the wonders it discloses, it is insufiicient to satisfy all the cravings of the Inmian mind. The progress of natural science is at the same time the development of thought. KDUCATION AND LIFE. ^, interpi'etirif«; visible tliiii^rp, we reason by certain processes, ^d niiikc use of cortjiiii intellectual forms; and the time jvitiibly conies wlicn these processes and Ibrnjs are nmde the jgoct of special investigation. Man is to himself the centre of things. Within him is a norhl of thought tliat mirrors the |rnis and huvs of external luiturc, .and a world of fuelings and ^sires, that join him h\ spiritual bonds to his kind, and aspira- >ns that iinitc and tem|)oral things are insuflicient to satisfy. [e cannot search into the nuture of thought without finding lat ho is more closely related to the outer world than he at i'st su})posed ; he cannot study his social sympathies without IprceiviMg that deej) in his spiritual nature lie the impulses lhi(;h give rise tu society, and lead to the consciousness of loral obligations; nor can he adecpiately exj)lain Ins noblest )ngings without tracing them U]) to their source in the Infinite. [he origin of philosophy lies in the felt necessity of obtaining )me solution of the problems thus opened up. "The Philo- )j)her," as Goethe rennu'ks, "is he who stands in the centre ; him the lowest must ascend, and the highest come down." [!ho rudiments of those fertile studies, whose end is to discover le relation of nnin to the world, of the individual to society, id of the finite to the inlinite, are dimly perceptible at a very |arly stage of civilization. And as the physical wants come engross less attention, the feeble consciousness of man ^wakens to higher life, and his nnture, duties and destiny become ill-absorbing topics^ In the oldest written documents of the face we iiiid deep glimpses into truth curiously interblended Ikith fantastic Imagery and puerile superstitions. But at length thought begins to predominate over fancy, reason to usurp the lace of imagination ; and henceforth philosophy, having learned her true mission, advances without interruption on her )nward course. Here, also, as in the realm of natural science, \e learn how one generation of thinkers prepares the way for the next. The history of successive systems is not, as is soine- Itimes averred, a record of repeated failures; contemporaneously [with the progress of the race, philosophy makes ever nearer K^ ADDRESS ON .pp.„ach» to t™th, ^"^JTXZIZZX'^^) Z zeal ""'l^lr"""?/'::*,;. ;; men- elevated views o but has f->"'i;'""f ',:,ti'„ee, and hnV.ued «.«• Ld.,n..,a.,d .itU ...0 ^e;*;;;;' : :' 'ae«nitc„e., de,.t,. ti"" g«-.""' ""^CXy t?X.«..a,e «.■ u people .^J^ and luxnnai.ee. ^ "-"."/,,„ thongl.ts, feelings and n.ot.v" tl,o same time a study t *'- "^ ^ ^^__^^ ,,„.„ase are « that oway and govern .t lor t o ^ ,,„, W.thont intimately conneeted a. to 1 e aUr^ J ^^ ^,^^,„,^ ^, ,„„ faculty of -"''"f/'^S;":,; and sounds of nature to unable to rise above »'- ^'^^ J^f,. Thought is the sonl eon,preheusivc v.ews f '' "*" ^^.^u,, to the evolution ot language the body; ;"'<' 'f .^^A, eivili.ation iuereases, the vewers latent u. l'"^"" ^'^^ delinite, language become. .« thougbt b -comes "'" « ^^J™ ,,„^ that at first bung m a ever more precise »<"l.''l'«'=™f; . ' ,,,^pe. and the symbols o ..avering,neb,do«s.mst -tt-uto;J^ ,^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^_ , those ideas also obtem B"^»"=; J^ , j^,, constitutes its essential i. this symbolical 1-ver ol s^"-;^. «1- ^,^^_ ,;,„ ,„ uhuU value as an instruinent "f l;"'""" [,; j^ ^ eculiar danger. It h of Byinbolism, languug >>""f» ;' ''^ ,:„\ has once eome int. a characteristic of t'-/>X''^ ^^^'jus of life i so much so that ,t existence, it is ««"»'''"«',, '"he tW"? i* "•'=1'"^"="" ''"' ''""''1 clings to existence --^ "^f , t L'ues a hindrance instead away. Wben tb.s takes P »^^ ^^ j.,^, „„.„age is peeubarly of an aid. »'*" '^'"V,, Certain distinctions, of great liable to this "'l-'-''^';.''" ■.,„rJxprcssi.,g the highest intel- i„„,„rtance at a given ';"-• . ' ,^ ,^,,„., > «ords; and hence, lectual advance then '- - \, ^"^ ,„ uieas conveyed by those lortli it is practically ''-" "^ ",.^,,,„„ ot doubt and criticism. [eld with (inspires, (views of [led with [l civilizu 2S9, depth )plc is lit luotivc't; kgo iire Pu Without sh.ould be nature to , the soul, k^olution of 1 increases, src becomes hung in a gymbols of liteness. It ; its essential ike all kinds anger. It is 2(i come into leh so that it ts lias passed ance instead is peculiarly IS, of great liiihest intel- , ; and hence- ived by those nd c-riticism. t those ideas notions that : be made to EDUCATION AND LIFE. 17 Understand, or only with the greatest difficulty, that distine- lops which have become imbedded in popular language may squire to be surrendered at the bidding of maturer reflection. Phis tyranny of language needs to be guarded against ; and in rhat better way can this be done than by studying the speech peoples of a past age, who are so far removed from the MJeral habits, modes of thought and principlesof judgment of ir own time that we are compelled to re-think, at every step, le ideas their language was intended to convey. Nor is this rakening of earnest, critical thoguht, the only advantage jrivablo from the study of language. Philology unites with jience and philosophy in pointing to the essential unity of all lankind, showing how nations dwelling far apart, and the ^ost diverse in habits, customs and ideas, are bound to each fcher by the ties of kinship, and how the influences of the jmote past are working themselves out in the private and ^cial life of to-day. It is of no mean importance to be enabled reproduce, with vividness and clearness, the ideas and jlings and deeds of long-vanished generations, who have ^Iped us onward to all of good we now possess. It was by It of hard toil that they won for themselves those principles practice, polity and social justice, which to us seem self- Kdent because of our familiarity with them. This is especially le in regard to those two nations of antiquity which, more m any other, have made us what we are. What science or is there whose origin or improvement is not due to Hellenic Jlture 'i What system of legislation which does not owe its Irfection to the basis laid by imperial Rome ? To estimate ight the great men of our own land, we must study the aterpieces of poetry, oratory and history saved from the lendid wreck of ancient Greece and Rome. The study of iguage is, therefore, of the utmost importance ; and the ^nderful discoveries in philology, made within the present jeration, render it doubly so. Recent investigations have )wn that the languages spoken in the larger portion of irope are traceable to the East. Jt is becoming more and nil 18 AN ADDBE88 ON evident tliat the unity of man may be traced to iip;oB the most remote. Languages which liad apparently dropped into eternal silence liave again become vocal, and disclosed the doings, thoughts and aspirations of men who sank ti> rt^st five thousand years ago. In the light of these facts who shall deny that the history of language, like the discoveries of science and the speculations of philosophy, are eminently fitted to strengthen the intellect, expand the sympathies, and elevate the moral nature of man ? The inference to which the foregoing considerations legiti- mately lead will have already suggested itself to you. The notion that man must he regarded solely a« an instrument for the discharge of a particular ofiice has been shown to bo incom- patible with the true dignity of human life. In addition to this narrow and limited side of man's existence, there is a niore comprehentdve and universal aspect under which ho must be viewed. lie is not only a memher of the state, who has a peculiar work to perform ; there is also a nide of his nature which belongs to him simply as a member of the human race. The various appliances of life appeal either to the particular or the universal side of hif< nature; practical life more to the former, theoretical more to the latter. Both are indispensable for the education of man's complex nature, for the evolution of those intellectual, moral and spiritual qualities which it is the aim of human existence to raise to their highest excellence. In view of this wide and comprehensive view of human thought ajid action, there is no distinction of persons ; and nothing would more tend to the higher elevation of the individual, and the quickened advance of the race, than the participation of all men in liher.al as well as technical education, 1 see no pros- pect of a speedy fulfilment of this desirable object. Until there is some readjustment of the relations of capital and labour, or until the right ot' every member of the State, whatever his rank or condition may be, to the advantages of the highest existing education is recognized, we must content ourselves with an approximation to the ideal of society I have attempted EDTJOATTON AlO> LTF2. 19 set before yon. But 8nrely wo iniglit, even in the neces- sarily imftcrfect state of society tliiit now exists, come nearer to tliifl ideftl than m'o liavo hitlierto done. Many are exchided [t'roni the advaiitan^es that a liberal training is fitted to impart, md which ahnost nothing can afterwards counterbalance or Ireplace, because public opinion has not yot risen to a conviction lof the importance of the ])roblem. That this state of hings Iwill pass away, and with it much of that immaturity of opinion on great (juestions wln'ch it were vain to deny, I confidently [anticipate. You, gentlemen, to whom glimpsoe into subjects of great [interest and importance are opened up by the range of studies hero placed at your disposal, may well feel grateful for the privileges you enjoy ; and it remains with you to decide whether they shall be the source of perennial satisfaction to yourselves, and of blessing to others, or whether at the end of your course y(»u shall look back to misspent time with vain regret. You have the option of leading a life of self-indulgence and inertne=^<. the result of whieh will be a permanent loss of self command and a gi-adual deterioration in character, or of manfully facing tiiose unwelcome difficulties which lie in your path, but the overthrow of which will instil into you increased strength and vigour. One of the greatest writers of this century has said that in all (iod's universe there is no room for a single idle man ; and (►f this ymi may be assured that, whatever your future walk in life mav l)e, zealous and conscientious toil will bring with it its own ex(^eedirig great reward. Be not misled by the stupid fallacy that y(»nr failure in duty will be hurtful only to yourself No man livetli to himself— no man dieth to himself. The intlueiKH' for good or evil which each of you may Overt uj)on others is incalculable. You are at an age when you may, in great measure, choose what your future life will l)e — whether it will be the noble life of a Christian and a man of culture, or the purposeless existence of the self-indul- st,: gent and ignorant ; whether you will be enlightened guides art^ « 1^ counsellors of others, or blind leadere of the blind. n taV Ak. -js«*- 1 ' i 't ' i ' I i #■ >1 w . ^lilpy'^'ff 20 ..,4-' ^.« AN ADDRESS ON IDUOATION AND LIFK. "The future hidea in it Gladness and sorrow ; We press still thorough, Nought that abides in it D&unting ns,— onward. And Holonin before ut, Veiled, the darlt Portal, Goal of all mortal : ' Stars silent o'er us, ' -^ ^ Graves under us silent I SiVi ■stirtt While earnest thou gazest ^i^.V(i, 1> ?)%'4'1>'> Comes boding of terror, ■ f^' ;■'(»,/:-•'"• 'V'it. Comes phantasm and error, ?< it ./* «f? "t'l 'V> . V Peq)lexe» the bravest - •- .. With doubt and misgiving. '^•1,^J;firyi.'. r-1 rort- <■' ;•-, /( But heard are the Voices,^ HU i ■ ■ ■: % '''*(■>■■-■ i:/'"-''!/ Heard are the Sages, The world* and the Ages : 'Choose well, your choice is Brief and yet endless : Here eyes do regard you In eternity's stillness; Here is all fulness, Ye brave to reward you ; Work, and despair not." i :;'■?-■ ; ' •'• - f;--!or; ■' ;■ f|v;^^!^' \v:■■>^■ . '■' . \\\ f ".- ■;.4i« -roil' "-!{{l-V - ■,.:■■{ .\-' :■.,,; I; -■ ■ -v:"j ■ r.' . ^- ir I ;''^ ... ;;., ""ft,*}* 'mi-V'. -■ • ■<■■ ■ sfif jsi :.!i;>'"f ■;'?■;• * p' '' 'tin i f ^ ■ i .' • .;■'-•• '♦■'V "t -n :-■. -"^ ■ ] '■ ■ " '••' ' i\ I ' ■'.- ■■yi\^i-\. ;■■!, r irft