,%.^a. ^5^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) % 1.0 I.I !^ y£ III 2.0 ^ His Lil i U 116 72 45* >> ^r '/ Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREEt WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 87il.4503 '^ V iV ^\ '^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for IHistorical IVIicrorept eductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Tachnical and Bibliographic Notaa/Notaa tachniquas at bibliographiquaa Tha inatituta has anamptad to obtain tha baat original copy availabia for filming. Faaturaa of thia copy which may ba bibliographically uniqua. which may altar any of tha imagaa in tha raproduction, or which may significantly changa tha usual mathod of filming, ara chackad balow. □ Colourad covara/ Couvartura da coulaur r~| Covara damagad/ Couvartura andommagia □ Covara raatorad and/or laminatad/ Couvartura raataurte at/ou pallicul4a D n n D Covar titia miaaing/ La titra da couvartura manqua r~| Colourad mapa/ Cartaa gAographiquaa t* coulaur Colourad Ink (i.a. othar than blua or black)/ Encra da coulaur (i.a. autra qua blaua ou noira) r~n Colourad plataa and/or illuatrationa/ D Planchaa at/ou illuatrationa •$% coulaur Bound with othar matarial/ Rali* avac d'autraa documonts Tight binding may cauaa shadowa or diatortion along intarior margin/ La r0 liura sarrAa paut cauaar da I'ombra ou da la diatoraion la long da la marga intAiiaura Blank laavaa addad during raatoration may appaar within tha taxt. Whanavar posaibia, thasa hava baan omlttad from filming/ II sa paut qua cartainaa pagaa blanchas ajoutias lors d'una raa^auration apparaiaaant dana la taxta. mala, lorsqua cala Malt poaaibla. caa pagaa n'ont paa At* filmAaa. Additional commants:/ Commantairas suppiimantairaa: TN to L'Inatitut a microfilm* la maillaur axamplaira qu'il lui a it* poaaibla da sa procurar. Las d*tails da cat axamplaira qui sont paut-*tra uniquas du point da vua bibliographiqua. qui pauvant modif iar una imaga raproduita. ou qui pauvant axigar una modification dana la m*thoda normala da filmaga sont indiqu*s ci*daaaoua. □ Colourad pagaa/ Pagaa n Pagaa da coulaur Pagaa damagad/ Pagaa andommag*aa Pagaa raatorad and/oi Pagaa raataur*as at/ou palllcui*as Pagaa discolourad. stainad or foxai Pagaa d*coior*as. tachat*as ou piqu*as Pagaa datachad/ Pagaa d*tach*as Showthroughy Transparanca Quality of prin Qualit* ln*gala da I'imprassion Includaa suppiamantary matarii Comprand du mat*rial suppi*mantaira Only adition availabia/ Sauia *dition disponibia r~~1 Pagaa damagad/ r~~| Pagaa raatorad and/or laminatad/ r~7] Pagaa discolourad. stainad or foxad/ rn Pagaa datachad/ r~7| Showthrough/ n~| Quality of print variaa/ r~1 Includaa suppiamantary matarial/ I — I Only adition availabia/ Pagaa wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., hava been refilmed to eneure the best possible image/ Lea pagaa totalament ou partiellement obacurciaa par un fauillet d'errata. una pelure. etc., ont *t* film*es * nouveau da fa?on * obtanir la mailleure image possible. Th po of fill Or ba th( sia oti fin sio or Th shi Til w» Ml dif an bai rig rac m« This Item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film* au taux da r*duction indiqu* ci-deasous. 10X 14X im 22X 26X 30X J 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X man Tha copy fllm«d h«r« hm b««n r«produe«d thanks to tha ganaroaity of: Douglas Library Quaan's Univarsity L'axamplaira filmA fut raproduit grica i la gAnAroalt* da: Douglas Library Quaan's Univarsity Tha imagas appaaring hara ara tha baat quality poaalbia consldaring tha condition and laglblllty of tha original copy and In kaaping with tha filming contract spaclflcatlons. Las imagas suhrantas ont Ati raprodultas avac la plua grand soin, compta tanu da la condition at da la nattatA da l'axamplaira film*, at an conformM avac las conditions du contrat da filmaga. Original coplas In printad papar covara ara filmad baglnning with tha front covar and anding on tha last paga with a printad or illustratad impras- sion, or tha back covar whan approprlata. All othar original copiaa ara filmad baglnning on tha first paga with a printad or illuatratad impraa- sion, and anding on tha last paga with a printad or illustratad imprassion. Tha last racordad frama on aach microficha shall contain tha symbol — »• (moaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol V (moaning "END"), whichavar appiias. Laa axamplalraa originaux dont la couvartura an papiar aat Imprlmte sont filmis an commandant par la pramiar plat at an tarminant salt par la darnlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'Impraaslon ou d'illustration, soit par la sacond plat, aalon la caa. Tous laa autras axamplairas originaux sont fllmte an commandant par la pramlAra paga qui comporta una amprainta d'Impraaslon ou d'illustration at an tarminant par la darnlAra paga qui comporta una taila ampfralnta. Un daa symbolas suivants apparaftra sur la darniAra imaga da chaqua microficha, salon' la cas: la symbols — »- ^ignifia "A SUIVRE", la symbols ▼ signifia "HN". Maps, platas, charts, ate, may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratios. Thosa too larga to ba antiraly includad in ona axposura ara filmad baglnning in tha uppar laft hand cornar, laft to right and top to bottom, as many framas as raquirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha mathod: Las cartas, planchas, tablaaux, ate. pauvant Atra filmAs A das taux da rAduction diff Arants. Lorsqua la documant aat trap grand pour Atra raproduit an un saul clichA, II aat filmA A partir da I'angia supAriaur gaucha, da gaucha A droita, at da haut an bas, an pranant la nombra d'imagas nAcassa^ra. Las diagrammas suivants illustrant la mAthoda. 1 2 3 1 2 9 • • _ - .y ijtki:ai:v and scikxtific mxiktv INAIKM RAI. Am>HESS y V- The EDITH and LORNE PIERCE COLLECTION o/CANADIANA Slueen's University at Kingston ^ J ":i^ ,1 r C INAUGURAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BKFOriE THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE EiteyM^ mi ^dtvMlt ^uki^f BY THE PRESIDENT, ^Y. H. RENNELSON, M.A., OCTOBER 27TII, 1871, THE REV. JOHN McCAUL, LL.D., IN THE CHAIK. PRINTED FOR THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETY. SD|e Sliubmitg College LITERAIIY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETY. •«««- 'L ■%/ ^patrons : Bev. J. McGAUL, LL.D., M.R.I.A. Pie.si-hMjt of UuiviMsity Colloge. H. H. CROFT, Esq. ,D. C. L. , F. C. S. OEORGK BUCKLAND, Enq. J. B. CHERRIMAX, Esq., M.A., F.C.P.S. DANIEL WILSOX, Knq., LL D., F.S.A. Scot. E. J. CHAPMAN', Esq , Ph. D. LL D. G. T. KINGSTON, E^q., M.A. H. A. NICHOLSON, Esq., MIX, D. S(., M.A., Ph.D., F.G.S.E. Rev. G. p. YOUNG. M.A. W. H. RENNELSON, M.A. 0ia-Urtsitrfut;i : J. FLETCHER. J, D. CHRISTIE. J. II. LONii. C0rrrspouuiug <^rn'ctar|r : J. WHITK. J. CRERAR. L. A. Mcpherson. Curator : A. Q. MILLER. Couuxilldrs : A. C. KILLAM. I W. BARWICK. A. A. McDonald. I r. t. mcbeth. A. DAWSON. Zc3^\UO^ INAUGURAL ADI)T1E8S. To ike MfDhherti of the UnivGralhj ('olhujc Lhf>irnr]i uvd Scidnfifij' Sorii'fjf. <)rfc:NTLKMEX, — We ftio met together to-iiii^lit jmlilicly to inaiigniate tlio seveiiteeiitli year (»t" tlie existence of this Society. It wouhl he a pleasin^f duty to me to review it.s history during those yc-ars that are i)ast, noting .some of its earlier ditticulties, — an account of which would he seen to reflect much honor on those who were its guardians dining the period of its infancy, — and contrasting them witli some of its successes of Liter times, — successes which indicate tlie vigorous vitality of which it is i)os essed, and which show that it has already hecome an integral part of University College, and one of which that institution could ill afford to he deprived. But as this task has heeu very satisfactorily performed hy several of my predecessors, it is the less desirahle that I should undertake it now, especially as there are many other suhjects e^^ually calling for our attention, some of which I am unwilling altogether to omit from my remarks to-night. 6 INAUGURAL ADDRESS. My first duty is to tender you my sincere thaaiks for the confidence you have reposed in me, in deeming me worthy to occupy a position- so lionorable and respon- sible as tliat I now do. I say the confidence, for I consider the mere honor of the position, great as that is,, of very small moment in comparison with, tlie con- fidence which has led to its bestowal. I hope it is imnecessary to make any promises with regard to the manner in which I shall aim at discharging my duties ; suffice it to say that I enter upon the responsibilities of my office with a most thankful appreciation of the benefits I have myself received at the hands of this Society, with the profoundest confidence in what it is able to do for such of its members as faithfully perform the duties it imposes and embrace the privileges it offers, and with a settled conviction that the young man who completes his collegiate training and thrusts him- self upon the world as an educated man, and who is still wanting in those qualifications which it is the design of this Society to bestow, is unworthy of his Alma Mater, unfitted for the age in which he lives, and likely to. prove a failure in life. A custom, already time-honoured, has established, as one of the duties of my office, the delivering of an Inaugural Address at the first Public Meeting of the College Session. I need not deny that in obedience to this demand I find myself beset with grave difficulties. A path may be all the more easy to tread that it has been trodden before ; but that circumstance will render it all the more difficult always to find something new. The path I am to tread to-night has been frequently trodden before, and I fear ';hat the way-side flowers also. I ic 1^ * % INAUGURAL ADDRESS. I * i have Leen well gathered. It is nf)t wonderful that this should he the case, for the verv names of those who have preceded me in the journey are a guarantee that the observations which have heen made have been of the most careful character. I do not need to inform you that the position I now hold has heen occupied by men who bid fair for a fame which will not be circuni-' scribed by the limits of either their own age or country. I |>ropo.e, however, to offer for your consideration to- night some thoughts on The Literature in Relation TO the Progress of the Age. What is the end of my existence? — What is my nature? — What is my destiny? — are questions which deeply concern every one of us, and which philosophers from the time of T hales, and moralists from the time of Moses, have urged upon our attention. Whither are we drifting? — On what principles of right have Wg founded our national constitution? — Is our prosperity real or only imaginary ? — Are we keeping abreast of the wave of national advancement ? are questions that press themselves upon the attention of any community or people. But there are questions which concern mankind of wdder scope and more philanthropic view than even these. The speculations of the true philo- sopher are not national only, though perhaps they are so in their more immediate relations. Thev must em- brace those universal and enduring princii)les which are common to humanity at large, and on ^v•^Iich are laid the foundations of universal progress. It is on this account that I would rather treat of human than of national progress ; because, as I con- ceive, the time is past for tlie investigation of facts and s INAUUUllAL ADDRESS. ^ principles wliicli belong only to indivieen great enough. National folly and vice have, if possible, l)een ijreater still. There is something in tlie excitement of companionship that adds enthusiasm to folly, and an attractiveness even to the loathsomeness of vice. There have been times in the history of our race, when, with exceptions that scarcely call for notice, self was the paramount object of interest to the individual, when the proudest boast of the nation was the numl>ers of the enemv it had slain, and its highest ambition to slay as many more. Nor have we so far escaped fivnn the great INAUiiURAL ADDRESS. 9 A f^loiigli of selfi4iiie8s in which humanity has floundered *io long, as that we can afford either to sneer at, or con- descendingly to pity, tliose who have gone before us, even although many of them appear to have sounded that slough to its very deptlis. Bui we hope that we have at least escaped, and stand on surer footing. Very much of the past existence of mankind has heen a dark valley into which the light of truth has hut dimly shone. AVe are prone to think, and certainly we think rightly, that we, of these later ages, have heen favoured with clearer revelations with regard to the momentous quest ions of the destiny of our race, the true iimhition of the heart, the means of attaining to the proper relationship between nation and nation, and the true exaltation of man. We have little ground vet for ^nssuming that we have reached the summit of the hill, where the light is clear and these revelations are ])er- feet. But no one can denv that we have more light than many of our fellow-men have jiossessed, that we have made at least some progress, that we stand some- where hetwet'u the valle}' and the mountain top. From this position, it becomes us carefully to view the past, to mark the steps by which we have ri>^en, if we have risen at all, and assure ourselves whether or not these steps have been wisely taken. For it does not ibilow, simply because Ave have cast off some of the follies that have proved fatal to others, that we have not replaced them by others, just as certain to prove fatal to us. While we have lost some of the vices of the an- cients, we may have lost some of their virtues also. We may be possessed of more wisdom than they, but even that mav not be sufficient to save us from failure. With ] 10 INAUGURAL ADDRESS. all our hopes, we can scarcely look for peilect success. W hether, however, our existence is to he a partial suc- cess or a great failure, the light of futurity only will reveal. Bat, whatever he the sentence that future age* may pass upon ours, we are certainly not too severe when we say, that the failures of humanity in most of those that are past have been of the most complete and melancholy character. What is the whole history of the world but one of tyranny and bloodshed ? Kings have lived by the death of kings, sovereigns have ruled and subjects have obeyed, on the principle that opposition to the one was the highest interest of the other. Nations have risen to power on the ruins of nations. Might has been the test of right. Race after race has made a vigorous start in the race of progress. This has been done only with sufficient force for a sufficient length of time to show the measureless powers of the human mind. The flagging time has come, and the light, which burst so auspiciously, has gone out again in barbaric darkness, llius, again and again, it has been demon- strated, that the most gorgeous structure that mind can erect, must crumble away if its foundations have been laid in error. Ages of men have followed one another like the waves of ocean, one rising as the other sank, sometimes swelling into the most splendid proportions, and then subsiding into moral and intellectual death. If, as we all believe, man is capable of indefinite im- provement, then, viewing the race in relation to such a contemplated state, its history is undoubtedly a record of failures. There is, however, an evident gradation in these fail- ures. National existence has realized a higher ideal in INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 11 success, ial suc- ily will re ages severe Tiost of ite and r of the s's liave ed and ositiou Nations jht has lade a 5 been length luman which rbaric 3nion- d can been Lother sank, tions, ieath. i im- ich a 2cord fail- i\ ilk modern than in ancient times. And when failure has- followed, as the result of false elements in that ideal, the disaster lias not been so complete and demoralizing.. Those lands, in which were cradled the growing ele- ments of Babylonian splendour, Persian greatness, and Egyptian enlightenment, now exist only as moral and intellectual deserts ; while the shivered monuments remain only here and there, which testify of a power that once boasted itself to be eternal. Lovely Athens, the birthplace of refinement, is now a sacred mausoleuia on which nations, to the end of time, will not cease to> strew the richest flowers of poesy, as upon the grave of ii departed sister. Those Attic skies, under which beauty was born, have wept over its deathbed also. But that beautv and that refinement are embalmed in a litera- ture, which has ever since supplied the models in poetry,, in rhetoric, and in philosophy. The mighty empire of the Csesars has been a failure also. But its failure has not been so complete as that of Greece. If, in its rise, it never rose so high, in its downfall it never fell so low. If it fell short of Greece's standard in its exaltation of the intellectual, it grasped an element of truth, which Greece had missed, in its greater regard for the material.. It never reached as high a standard in poetry or in elo- quence, but it reached one much higher in national ambition and the government of its people. How very far it fell short of the true standard of human govern- ment, is only too clearly indicated by the greatness of its fall. But, though that fall was great, it was not com- plete. The smouldering embers of its civilization, which were well nigh extinguished by the torrent of barbarism that was poured upon them, when fanned by the breatk 12 INAUOL'RAL ADDRESS. IP f ! t of younger and more vigorous nations, Lurst into a flame tliat has illuminated tliree-fourtlis of Europe with its light. This is the last downfall of a great empire that the world has seen or is likelv ever to see. A longer period has elapsed since the downfall of Rome than had elapsed between that date and the downfall of Greece ; yet it can scarcely he said that a great nation has fallen during the interval. And with few, if any exceptions, no important nation is now seriously threatened with dissolution. When dissatisfied demagogvuis prophesy the decay of a great monarchy, or the bursting asunder of a great republic, it wouhl not, perha])s, be offering a very absurd objection to remind them of the great Baby- lonian's dream. That dream has been literally fulfilled in the destruction of the fourth great empire, which was to be partly strong and partly broken. May we not infer, unless facts render the inference impossible, that the stone, by which that great destruction was to be accomplished, contained in it the wanting element in the civilization of man, and was destined to introduce an era, when, in order to the achievement of great suc- cesses, great failures would no longer be necessary ? This may not be arriving at truth by a philosophical method, but, if we only reach the truth, we need not perplex ourselves about the method. At all events, the time has arrived when might has, for the most part, ceased to be the test of right, and when nations, as well as men, have recognized a great and governing motive to action other than their own aggrandizement. Now- a-days it is not necessary for the settlement of a point in international law, that one of the disputants be exter- minated or enslaved. This wonderful enlightenment in !; i INAUGURAL ADDRESS 13 Uig a the science of government is the special glory of our own age. Cnly a century has passed since, by her blunder- ing misrule, England drove from filial attachment into bitter hostility a portion of hei own subjects, and so deprived herself of the wealth of half a continent, and the lustre which its glories would have added to her name. Then, the world learned wisdom from her foll3^ Only a year ago, her government dared to assert, and succeeded in proving, that it was possible for England's sword to rust in its scabbard and her glory remain still undimmed. This time, the world has drawn its lessons from her wisdom. There is anotner respect in which our age shows a great improvement over any that has preceded it. Not only have we managed to bring together those elements of true civilization which will generally turn the balance in favor of success, but we have learned also to submit both successes and failures to philosophical analysis; so that, now, we are enabled to remove from our principles of action whatever error they contain, before the disaster to which it tends comes upon us. It is not likelv that the Persian, who lived to watch the waning glories of his nation, reflected that there had been causes at work which could not possibly have Veen followed by any other result. Nor is it likely that even the refined Greek, in whose religious creed the doctrine of late held a considerable place, would believe that there was any other reason for the extinction of Grecian greatness than the invincible strength of the Macedonian phalanx, or that he traced the changing honors of nice to any other cause than the fickleness of fortune. In marke 1 contrast to that want of philo- 14 INAUGURAL ADDRE88. ^ophy which plunged men into utter darkne.ss, and to that philosophy, also, which resigned itself to fate, the sphere of the modern statesman is, reasoning from the past, to anticipate the future, and the province of ^'ovemment is the prevention, rather than the remed}'- ing, of evils that threaten the national prosperity. This philosophical scrutiny of the events of history is fast revealing to us the principles of progress, and, in so far as it is successful in arrivmg at truth, it is a sure guarantee that the interruptions to human progress in the future will be both fewer and less alarming than they have been in the past. But how are we to unlock the secrets of the human mind, and disclose to view the wealth of by-gone thought I Literature must be our key. Perha])s we must grant that, among the agencies of progress, literature has only held a secondary [)lace. What influence it has exerted has been rather indirect than direct. It wouhl be difticult to show that, in the days of Greece and Rome, literature was productive of any very marked improvements. Owing to the complete severance of the thinking from the unthinking classes, and the impossibility of the literary productions of the former class falling, to any great extent, within the reach of the latter, the literature was rather an appendage to the civilization of these countries than part of it. It is quite probable that the Homeric poems exert a greater influence over the minds of cultured men in our own day than they ever did over the nation in whose language they were written. Nor is it clear that our own magnificent literature has acted in any very direct way towards the improvement of INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 15 the conditions of the race. It was a growing ain lose sidit of that exalted destiny which is in store for humanity, and which is, even now, opening up to its view. It has been called the mould in which the knowledge of a country is cast. But it gives us more than the mere material of knowledge. It reveals to us the very processes by which that knowledge was reached. We may read in it, also, the character of the times in which we live, and from it prognosticate much that is to come. It is at once the record of the past, the exponent of the present, and the index of the w 16 INAT'iUHAL AIMHIKSS. li! ,'• future. Yiewiij;^' it in this light, I wouhl suggest — iiiul only suggest — «'i lew thoughts on the literature of our own age. As, however, literature is to be tuken as the index, of progress, we niu?t know what the elements of progress are, and these we will find in the analysis of the human mind. When we know in what respects a truly noble man differs from a savage, we know what progress means. AVlieii we say that man is endowed with intel- lectual and moral faculties, we have enumerated all the capacititfs which place him on a higher level than the brute creation. In order to progress, both thuse elements must be progressive. It is possible for the intellectual to advance while the moral is stationary or almost altogether wanting', as history and experience alike will testify. But tlie moral cannot advance while the intellectual is retrogressive, for the former will depend for its activity on a knowledge of relationships; which the latter must understand and recognize. In order to true progress and enduring achievements, both must be progressive. A comparison of Grecian with modern European and American civilization, in its best forms, will show this to be true. In the former case, the intellectual develop- ment, though great, was limited and exclusive; in the latter, it is national and diffusive. Among the Greeks generally, the most essential elements of morality were utterly unknown as governing principles in life, simply because the relationships out of which they arise were not understood. Little was known of the beauty of love or the sacredness of affection. And when the leaders in morals, as well as in knowledge, ignore all INAU( JURAL APDUKSS. 17 — tiiul L)t' our dex, of 'Oarer's UllUilU ijol)le I'ogres.s I intel- iill the an the thi se ['or the lary or L'rience i while fcr will )ii.'shii)Hi ^e. In , both an and )w this [•velop- in the Greeks iy were jimply le were lutv of en the ore all i those heaven-knit ties which bind the family together in sacred and indissoluble union, alas for the morality of the nation ! There are already within the national heart the seeds of conuption and decay ; and if, in the absence of a generally diffused kn(»wledge, and of tho^e moral sentiments which bind man to man, and jL^ive at once indepeuilence to the individual and unity to the natian, we can see the causes which led to the over- throw of a nation which only waided Christianity to complete its enlightenment, what rooui was there left for hope in the case of those other nalions which robbed their subjects, not only of instructiou, but also oi' liberty of thought and a'l that independence which is essential to manhood i Our civilization is vet far from having reached the standard of moral perfection ; but we have at least learned that the thing most essential to the well-being of any people is the jiossession of a relined and active nu)ral sentiment. It is the greatest power in liunuin nature. But, while the last three centuries have been striving to bring it into action, confidence in its operations, as o])i)osed to those of a material force, is the characteristic and the glory of an age which has scarcely nu)re than begun to be. If these are the elements of all healthful progress, how far does our littirature show them to be living and ]»rogressive now ( This is an age of bo(d;s. It is an ajjre when everv- body reads. Jbit the fonuc'r statement does not prove tiie present to be an Augustine age in literature, nor does the hitter that all men are duly instructetl. It is to be feared that our literature is remarkable rather for its quantity than its quality ; and it is quite certain 2 18 iXArurnAr addrrhm. that, wliilc all iiu'ii iiwl, \n\i very I'uw liavu learned to tliiiik, and to make men think h the tnie aim of all edueation. That end luu not yet heen reacluMl, l»nt it can already lu; deseric^d in the distance. In onler that it may he reat'he<], we must have, on the one hand, a ilesiie lor knowled;^'e on the t>art ol' the peoi»le> and, on the other, instruction .suit»'d to their wants,— a literature they can untlerstand. Our a<^e is I'uUillinq hoth of these conditions. One of the most striking' characleristli's (»f our litera- ture, ,<;en(;rally, is that it comes close to the heart. It is ])ermeate(l with a real human feelinj^s it is^ frau^'ht with (iuotions intensely interesting' to all who call themselves uuni ; in it, life is a reality. The destiny of man is its all-al)sor)>ing prohh-ni. The harshness and pedantry of old writers have been laid aside; the ]>eople will not hrook ohscurities. Philosophy must make itself clear, for all classes are willing to understautl it. It must ])e a philosophy which comes into relation to every-day life, for the hearts of all are open to its influences. Ahove all, it must he true, for they are willing to he subject to its rule. Science is fast coming up to the recpiired conditions. The arcana of nature are being compelled to nnfold their mysteries, and instruct men in the laws of life and in the grand simplicity of the Creator's ])lan. Popular science is a thing almost of yesterday ; and, even now, its discoveries come almost too fast to be chronicled. It would be useless withont inquiring nunds ; but the incpiiring minds are leady to receive it, and by it they are drawn, as by magnetic force, into the very midst of the most sublime of intellectual problems. Here, in IN.\l'(a HAI, AI)|»Hi;s.S, 19 full incfisuH', is the iiiti'llt'ctUJil rlciiU'lit ol' )H(>;;i<'Ss ; lure luaii liii! nature the iiliilo^ojihy of tiiiiid has iutt kept pace, 'i'he majority of men have s('ai'('» ■Iv 1 leen so much as inh)rnie(l that the mind is ?> fov«'ined hv laws, while manv ^A' those wlio have O' it';^arliere than the intellectual alone. 'J'here are the moral and emotional elements, which chiim a plact; e<|Ually hijj;h. What does science do for them ( \\ is true that knowlcdj^e, even of sciontiMc subjects, should alh)rd a nn)re comprehensive view of the ohligatiims of mankind; it is true that there is somethinj^' ennohlin;^' in the grandi-ur of the thoughts to which science intro- hut, it must he uiJinted, that it alone would es us plied hy literature aud art. The two great branches of literature in which we must find the ]>roper nourishment for the moral and 20 INAUGURAL ADDllESS. i ■ A i 6 restlietic fiiouUies are fiction and poetry. The streams of fiction that fh)0(l tlie ^'iiul are more astounding in the vohinie and tlio rapidity of their currents than even those of popuhir science. Those who rack their brains with ])hilosophy devote their leisure hours to the read- ing of liction ; those who consider science dry and ])oetrv dull rea«l liction. What claim has it that it should afford the entire mental food of persons wlio have not learned to think, and the greater part of the supplies of many of tliose who have ? It gives us no intellectual culture, and it woidd not he read if it did. It does not, in its loftiest i>urposes, pretend to expose those evils that are iiati^mal or local, or to instruct us in history or in the art of government; and it is de- parting from its true sphere when it does. It cannot, therefore, he used as a vehicle for the diffusion of knowleilire. It does and should induct us into a closer scrutiny of our hearts, and the secret springs of action which work themselves out in the innumerahle intricacies of life. It teaches us to admire the nohility and laugh at the foibles of Immanity. But in order to accomplish this exalted purpose, it must be the work of a master- hand — it must be the w<)rk of one who is able to trace the emotions of the heait in the actions of the life, and image them bei'ore us in a mirror that neither exagge- rates nor deforms. We have fiction belonging to our own day of the highest order, but a vast amount of th.it which is eagerly devoured Ity readers not only falls infinitely l)elow the highest rank, but absolutely fails to ]>resent the truth in its portraiture of life. Expe- rience is all that it pretends to give, and, with most readers, the interest which attaches to it ib just in proportion as that experience is false, iNAUCiURAL ADDRESS. SI But tiie piopei' classification of fiction is, with poetiy, under tlie head of art. Its cliief aim is the culture of the a3sthetic faculty, and when we apply to it the rules of art, the very same works will fall short of the standard as when juro])er limits, I must omit the remarks whicli I had intended to make upon the Satiiv and the Criticism, the Wit and the Humour, as they an; develo])ed in our literature, and also upon the literature that deals with Art. We would prol)al)ly tind from a study ( f the subject, that there is almost a total ahsence of woiks that deal with Art, as a study, and that there is, in our educational system, almost a comrtlete want of anvthiuii that ministers directly to the improvement of mail's aesthetic nature. 'I he reason, however, is, tliat thei'e has been no demand for such culture. Now that demand is just l)eginniug to he made, and, ilouhtless, it will ])roduce as great a revolutitm in that r its worthlessness, and that the satiie, if there is any renl satire, is not much better. These things are, perhaps, necessities in an age that is ])re-eipinent for its restless utilitarianism. It has no time for elal)orate witicism, nor leisure to dip into the deeper streams of humour. Fun must be on the V(^iv surface of life ; our mirth must be made to order. We have nut time to sit down and dream of life, until its ludicrousness flows in upon the heart and tills it with laughter. Few of our humourists ever draw laughter from the heart ; they only make us smile, ^gain, ours is an age of ceaseless 24 INAUGURAL ADDRESS. eagerness. This may account for the ahsence of satire ; for there is no lack of the proper suhjects for its hxsh. Men are in earnest about mighty purposes. The delibe- rate satirist must be a man who can separate himself from the bustle of life, and view it with a calmness that ajjproaches indilference. This is an age of many greatnesses and of many little- nesses also, — littlenesses which appear all the meaner from the contiast in whicli we see them. It is an age of extremes and extravagances. But we need not fear extravagances. The activity of life, even though it be distigured by inconsistencies, is infinitely better than the stupor of death ; and the opposing interests of extremes is at least an indication that it is the golden mean of which we nre in search. Progress is a chain of many links. Each link is a chain of itself, and its tendency will always be towards exaggeration. Tut the chain of progress is a unit still. (Jentlemen, we are links in that mighty chain. Its streugth will depend on the manner in which we act our scvei-al parts. Cur meeting to-night marks the begin- ning of another year, — the opening of another scene in the drama of life. It reminds us that new duties are pressing upon us. While I speak of the duties of the <'oming year, I am reminded that the year that is past has l)een an eventful one in the historv of Universitv ( 'ollege. T'liis Society has had the honor of alined in the use of them. Ihe question of success or failure lies with yourselves. Your chances of victory will be in porportion to the skill you acquire here ; it will depend entirely on how you spend your time now, whether you will look back on your college l