AN ORATION 
 
 WILLIAM I-:L*1)1<:K, Kso., A. M. 
 
 ItKIIVKIM.Ii UV 
 
 I'.KKUKK rilK 
 
 ALUMNI 
 
 UK iiii: 
 
 MOUNT ALLISON \Vi:SLi:VAN COLLIT,!'. 
 
 SACK VILLE, 
 
 OUST THE 1st OF" OrXJISTID, 18SO. 
 
 
 s 
 
 ( 
 
 W 
 
 C' w 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
(•riw.'i'' 
 
 i,is::f ■ 
 
 I , 
 
 U ^!:^>i^ 
 
 :;•■!:! 
 
 I 
 
MELIORA: 
 
 AN ORATION 
 
 DELIVERED BY 
 
 WILLIAM ELDER, Esq., A. M. 
 
 BEFORE THE 
 
 ALUMNI 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MOUNT ALLISON WESLEYAN COLLEGE, 
 
 SACKVILLE, 
 
 OIT THE 1ST OF JTJlSrE, 1880- 
 
 )*^/ 
 
•T. PAVI/S CHrBCB. FMEDBRICTOlf. 
 
 Tho iudnction of the R«t. A. J. Mowatt, as 
 Minister of St. Paul's Church, Krederioton, as 
 recently recorded in our columns, with the , 
 pleasant welcome subs^qMntly cxtendied to 
 him by the cotigregatton^ Is &ii < vent of gen* 
 end importance. As was remarked by I'rofes* 
 ■or Fowler at the rr^-Union, on Friday nigbt, 
 Fredoricton being the capital of the riovince, 
 tho seat of a University and Normal School, aa ; 
 well as a city in which the other denominations \ 
 are well represented, it is im]K>rtant that old 
 St. Paul'a ahould make a creditable appearance, 
 ^e venerable pastor of the church, tho Rev. 
 Dr. Brooke, has, like the venerable Metropoli* 
 i tan of the Church of England, long been doing 
 • good work. Now that the pastor of St. 
 j Paul's is necessarily obliged to withdraw f^m 
 active duties, it is important that his place 
 ahonld be supplied by a minister equal to the 
 situation. 
 
 The record of St. Paul'fi goes back for half a 
 century and its early history is somewhat in- 
 teresting, recalling as it does the names of men 
 who did good work for the church in bye>gone 1 
 days. i 
 
 The first meeting held towards the formation { 
 of this church took place on February 17, 1829. ' 
 Wm. Taylor, Thos. Stewart, Thos. Aitken, j 
 Thoa. C. Everett and James Willox were then I 
 appointed a committee, with James Taylor, 1 
 secretary, and T. R. Robertson, treasurer, to| 
 carry the resolutions of the meeting into effect. ; 
 A lot of land, 70x80 feet, was granted as a 
 site by James Taylor, and the present building 
 wais erected by July, 18S0, at a cost of over 
 j£l,00O, James Dunn being the contractor. 
 
 The church wus opened I y the Rev. Mr. 
 Souter. During the same month, a call was 
 extended to the Rev. Ebenezer Johnston, of 
 Kiroaldy, who, though he did not accept it, 
 came out in June of the following year and \ 
 conducted the aervioes for a few months. He 
 then returned to Scotland. 
 
 The church was incorporated in 1832,and the 
 first trustees elected under the Act of incorpo< 
 ration were :— Wm. Taylor, Thoa. Stewart, 
 Thomas Aitken, Thomas C. Everett, Jamea 
 Willox, T. R. Robertson, James Taylor, Jr., of 
 whom there are now no survivors. The only 
 sTurviving members who signed the call to Mr. 
 Johnston are Wm. McBeath, Francis Beverly 
 and Hugh Dougherty. The first Pastor was the 
 
 J0» 
 
 Hev. J. Birkmyr^ A. M. He was senVoV 
 from Scothind in answer to an applicatiot*'^ 
 the tnuteea to the Rev. Dr. McQill, of OUsg^ 
 He wai inducted on the 4th of Novembvi 
 1882. Thu Rev. R. Wilson, of St. Joht;. 
 preached oi the occasion. Rev. Dr. Blrk* \ 
 myro resigned in April, 1842. Tlie congrega* 
 tionwai without a Pastor till the lllh of July, 
 1848, when the present Pastor, the Rev. John 
 M. Brooke, D.D., formerly of New Richmond, 
 Lower Canada, was inducted. The Rev. Mr. 
 Wishart, of St. John, preached on that oora> 
 sion. Dr. Brooke continued to discharge the ' 
 entire duties of the pastorate till 1868, when 
 the Rev. Wra. Murray, now of New Rich*\ 
 mond, was appointed m assistant. Mr. Mur- 
 ray resigned the charge, after a aervice of about 
 eight months, to accept a call from the Camp- 
 bellton congregation. He was succeeded in 
 turn by the Rev. Messrs. Findlay, McDonald, 
 P. Melville, J. Moffat and S. Halley. On 
 the resignation of Mr. Halley, in September, 
 1874, Dr. Brooke wished to retire from the ac 
 tive duties of the pastorate. The congregation 
 in the meantime endeavored to procure wliat 
 aaaiatanoe they could to relieve the beloved \ 
 pastor of his excessive labor till April, 1876, 
 when Rev. W. Caveo, of Tilsonburg, Ontario, 
 was inducted as his colleague and successor. 
 ; Mr. Caven n«igned in April, 1878, since which 
 time the ccmgregation has been endeavoring 
 to obtain a nuccessor to Mr. Caven, and have 
 now succeeded in obtaining the Rev. A. J. 
 Mowatt, whose induction has just l>een record- 
 ed in our columns. 
 
 The new minister brings with him an ex- 
 cellent reputation in every respect, but minis- 
 ters, like others, are best tested I y years of 
 service; and when congregations or the public 
 at once place the new-comers on the highest 
 pinnacle of fame, it ia evident that they can 
 never get any higher, and the danger is that 
 they may not bo able to keep their position. It 
 is better to leave some room for progress. 
 
 The chief work to be done in St. Paul's 
 will, of course, be of a moral and spiritual na- 
 ture. The life, energy and warmth of the 
 pulpit must be made to overflow into the pews; 
 while the young as well as the old must be 
 attracted by the teachings and the 
 personal intercourse of the new minister. 
 There are, however, some external and inter- 
 nal matters that ought, at an early day, to en- 
 gross the attention of all who take an interest 
 
I ia St. Pftnl't. The pews tn of the old perpea. 
 
 ; dioQlar, high-baokad ityl«, with n«rrow tMti, 
 Romething like thoee which were to he foond 
 io St. Andrew*! Church, St. John, before the 
 greet firf. The gellerict nre high, and the 
 pulpit neceeearily oeeupies » rery elevated 
 position. Anyone who hu Mt an hoor or two 
 
 With a good, lirely, energetic iwetor, whoia 
 sermoiM muflt not be too long, good music, 
 Rood hymna, a modem church, or ut least 
 modem pulpit and pews, aud a rourteeus, 
 united, erdngeliatic and misaionary tburch, 
 on St. Paul'a ought to Uke a new lease of 
 life, and be able to take an honorable part in 
 
 on a narrtw seat, with a high perpendicular promoting the moral and spiritual well being 
 ; back, will appreciate the patience and long- ^f ^^^ people of Fredericton. _ 
 
 I suffering of the members of the church who "" 
 
 j have for so many years sit in St. 
 I Paul's. Some one has written a 
 I book, finding that Christianity must 
 I be tiue, or it would lung since have ceased to i 
 exist owing to the errors and mistakes of those ! 
 who professed it, and we have heard of • 
 beadle who informed a Bishop of the Church of ' 
 EogUnd^that he (the] beadle) felt that he had i 
 much to be gratfiil for, because he had sat in a i 
 certain church in 'Oxford for a great part of a ! 
 
 At the time that the aoebmpanying address was delivered, I promised 
 to many friends of the Mount Allison Institutions that I would put it in 
 print at any early day, not because it contained anything particularly 
 note-worthy, but as a souvenir of a pleasant re-union. I was the more 
 desirous of doing so as, owing to circumstancc^s, tlu^ address was very 
 ineffectively read, and portions of it were not well heard. Many pre- 
 
 me from making a copy for tlie printer at an 
 
 This is now done for the 
 
 occupations prevented 
 
 earlier date, and thus fullilling my promise. 
 
 reasons above stated. 
 
 life time and was still able to thank Ood that 
 he was a Christian. We should say that 
 Presbyterianism must have some sterling 
 merits when it can stand narrow sfats, with 
 high, perpendicular backs, for half a centnry 
 or 8<^ to say nothing of other dt-fective sur* 
 roundings. 
 
 A gentleman, who passed patt of a great 
 many years in Fredericton, once said to ns 
 that wW he went to the Cathedral he found 
 the seats open to all; that when he went to 
 the Mettiodist church, he found several per* 
 OoufT t«ady to show him to a pew, and had, in- 
 deed, invitations to pews in advance, but that 
 when he went to St. PaulV, he found no one 
 to show him to a pew and the seats generally 
 full. If no change has taken plaoe of late for 
 the better, the present may be a good time to 
 turn over a new leaf in regard to the strangers, 
 seeing that thoee who extend hospitality to 
 that class of persons have, before now, enter- 
 tained angela unawares. 
 
 W. E 
 
MELIORA: 
 
 An Oration delivered by William Elder, Esq., A. M., 
 
 before the Alumni of the Mount Allison Wesleyan 
 
 College, Sackville, on the ist of June, 1880, 
 
 Mr. Prcfrident and Memhern of the Alumni Aamciation, — 
 
 I return to you my sincere thanks for your kind and flattering 
 invitation to address you on the present festal occasion. I received 
 it with the greatest pleasure, looking upon it as an indication 
 that you felt that you and I liad c''*-<^aiM sympathies in common, 
 a circumstance which could not be otherwise than a source of 
 gi'atiiication to me. Any regrets that I have had, any misgivings 
 that I still have, on account of accepting the invitation, liave arisen 
 from a realizing sense of my many pre-occupations and a fear that 
 with the limited time at my disposal, I should be unable to put 
 into proper form the few words that I might wish to address to 
 you. This is an anticipation that J fear will be only too fully 
 realized, and I regret the fact the more when I think of the 
 number of able addresses, from prominent men, which you have 
 been accustomed to receive, in this place, from year to year. 
 
 I can truly say, however, that I ha>'e long felt a deep interest 
 in the institutions which are represented here to-day, by so many 
 bright faces and ingenious and ardent natures. These institutions 
 were founded in a spirit of enlightened patriotism and Chri.stian 
 philanthropy, which must ever cast a halo around the name of 
 Charles F. Allison ; they have been sustained in a way that does 
 honor to the Wesleyans of the Maritime Provinces, and have been 
 equipped by a body of Professors and other teachers whose learning, 
 zeal and devotion shed lustre on the profession. The course of 
 studies prescribed is liberal, and in accordance with the spirit of 
 an age which, while it reveres the past, does not overlook the 
 stern utilitarian demands of the present. I am heartily glad that 
 your programme takes in the great domain of art, which has so 
 
6 
 
 givjit a liistory and so ^wai a mission; wlucli oxcrcist's so profound 
 
 an infliience in tlu' formation of taste, tlie nurture of genius and 
 
 the development of nati(mal spirit. 
 
 Since; the inception of your Aca<lemies an«l Collejife, tliey have 
 
 been attended hy Iar/,'e numhers of students throu«^h wliom the 
 
 intellectual, moral and reli.L,'ions benefits; the ameliorations and 
 
 refinements which flow from such scliools of learning, luivo been 
 
 wi<lely diffused. Amon^r the alumni I find the names of senators 
 
 and members of the House of Oommons of Canada and of the 
 
 Provincial Legislatures; prof(!ssors and other teachers; clergymen, 
 
 lawyers, physicians, agriculturists and mechanics — for whom you 
 
 provide a special course — and not a few others. The names of the 
 
 alumnu! would of themselves make a goodly list. The sphere in 
 
 which women usually move in Canada is not such as to bring 
 
 them prominently before the public eye, but its limitations do not 
 
 prevent them from carrying into the social circle, the intellectual 
 
 and moral ac(piisitions; the grace, the gentleness and the goodness 
 
 which result from Christian culture, and which, while they are 
 
 their own great reward, are so much needed to sweeten and 
 
 transfigure the oft monotonous and toilsome rounds of every 
 
 day life. 
 
 Your institutions have alread}' attained to a respectable age, 
 
 for in less than another decade you will have reached your fiftieth 
 
 year, a period comparatively long in the history of a young 
 
 country like this. But your lineage is much more ancient than 
 
 your institutions, and goes back to the far distant past. I see 
 
 in the Mount Allison Wesleyan College a worthy descendant 
 
 of those ancient schools of learning with which Europe became so 
 
 rapidly dotted after the fall of Constantinople, and the diffusion 
 
 and revival of lettei-s, and which had a great and famous history. 
 
 They attracted towards them hundreds of thousands of students, 
 
 developing in them feelings of self-sacrifice of the most ennobling 
 
 character. Many of those students were poor and badly clothed. 
 
 Many of them actually begged their way over half a continent in 
 
 order that they might sit at the feet of some teacher of note in 
 
 Paris, in Bologne, in Oxford. As the plant in the darkling cellar 
 
 stretches .forth its tendrils towards the light; as the bird immured 
 
 in darkness, when it greets the rays of the morning sun, bursts 
 
 into song ; so did those students, welcome the dawn of the new 
 
learninj^, and ho «li«l tlieir tonj^iios iK-coine loud in its praise. Tlioy 
 
 did not indtvid enjoy nmny of tlie advantaj^cs wliich you possess, 
 
 for the con(|Uests of science and letters and discovery, since the 
 
 close of the lOth century, nuirk an rpoch in the history of our race. 
 
 But while you can roam in more ample fields of research, it will 
 
 be well if you an; inspire<l with the same love of learning which 
 
 animated their bosoms, and are prej)ared to make e(|ual sacrifices 
 
 in order ^o obtain it. As one who has participated in the studies 
 
 of the Universities of the Old World, which weie in the true line 
 
 of acadenncal, I had almost said apostolical succession — for the 
 
 University of Gla-sj^ow was founded by Pope Nicholas IV., a 
 
 century before the Reformation — I "gladly bear to you the 
 
 fraternal sympathies of your fellow workers elsewhere, your 
 
 " kin beyond the .sea." I congratulate you on the comparatively 
 
 happy period in which you live, and on the bright prospects of 
 
 the amelioration of men's condition which mark the closing decades 
 
 of the century. It is the great possibilities of our schools in this 
 
 respect ; the men they may produce and the good they may efTect, 
 
 tliat invest all gatherings of youthful alumni with such solemn 
 
 interest. A few centuiies ago, a certain Oerman teacher was 
 
 accustomed to say that he always took of!' his hat in the presence 
 
 of boys — an excellent example to the boys — because, he said, he 
 
 never cea.sed to feel that there might be .some gi'eat man among 
 
 them. One of his pupils was a youth who was afterwards known 
 
 to Germany, and to the world, as Dr. Martin Luther. 
 
 The other day I came across a paragraph which an Eton boy, 
 
 of humble birth and social position, not one who was born with a 
 
 silver spoon in his mouth, had contributed to his College paper a 
 
 good many years ago. I think it is likely to interest you. It 
 
 expresses some hopes and fears that are not peculiar to young 
 
 men at college. It reads as follows : 
 
 In my present imdertaking there is one giilf in which I fear to sink, 
 
 and that gulf is Lethe. There is one stream which I dread my inability 
 
 to stem ; it is the tide of popular opinion. I have ventured, and no 
 
 doubt rashly ventured — 
 
 Like wanton boys that swim on bladders, 
 To try my fortune in a sea of glory, 
 But far beyond iny depth. 
 
 At present it is hope alone that buoys me up ; for more substantial 
 
 support I must be indebted to my own exertions, well knowing that in 
 
 this land of literature, merit never wants its reward. That such merit is 
 
8 
 
 mine I dare not presume to tliink ; but still there is something within 
 me that bids me liope that I may be able to glide prosperously down the 
 stream of public estimation ; or, in the words of Virgil, — 
 
 celare viam nimore secundo. 
 
 The writer was William Ewart Gladstone. 
 
 About the same time another youth, who laboured under still 
 greater disadvantages, was pursuing his studies in another school. 
 Soon he wrote a book to which he prefixed the motto : 
 
 Why then the world's mine oyster, 
 Which I with sword will open. 
 
 The book showed that the sword which the hero intended to 
 use was to be fashioned out of the learning and culture of which 
 he was a devotee, and out of the aspirations that animated his 
 bosom. He soon makes his hero use these words : 
 
 For it was one of the first principles of Mr. Vivian Grey that every 
 thing was possible. Men dul fail in life to be sure, and after all a very 
 little was done by the generality ; but still all these failings and all this 
 inefficiency might be traced to the want of physical and mental courage. 
 Now Vivian Grey was conscious that thei'c was at least one person in 
 the world who was no craven either in body or mind, and so he had long 
 come to the comfortable conclusion that it was impossible that his career 
 could be anything but the most brilliant. 
 
 You are already acquainted with Mr. Vivian Grey and therefore 
 I need not remark on the way in which his case, also, illustrates 
 the possibilities of student life ; or how it adds another to the 
 many proofs that fact is often stranger than fiction. 
 
 But while I quote such cases as these as interesting illustrations 
 of the possibilities of life, and the influence of liberal learning and 
 culture in furnishing mental furniture and equipment fitted to 
 help men to know "how to take occasion by the hand," I hope you 
 will not for one moment suppose that I forget that the great mass 
 of the uncounted millions of the human family must earn their 
 bread by toil ; that the more learned professions and avocations, 
 which however involve no little hard work, are not for the masses, 
 though there is said to be always room enough at the top ; and 
 that the great places of state are for a still more select circle. 
 These are facts never to be forgotten, and I for one do not wish 
 to construct another Utopia. Not only do I bear them in mind, 
 but I realize the blessedness of work, and the happiness of a sphere 
 of activity often vainly sought by large numbers of men, and still 
 more hopelessly by large numbers of women, who are entitled to 
 
9 
 
 a wider field of activity than they have yet been able to obtain. 
 Accepting all these facts, is it not still true that the man is more 
 than his trade, and that he cannot live by bread alone ? Is 
 it not true that knowledge will make labor more productive 
 and more ennobling, seeing that it will thus be made a means of 
 exercising the mind, and cease to be mere manual toil ? A 
 familiar illustration readily presents itself to my min<l. The 
 relations between geology and agriculture are close and intimate. 
 Will not a knowledge of the one invest the study of the other 
 with dignity, as well as be most desirable on the lowest utilitarian 
 grounds ? Then again, do not the laborer and the mechanic need 
 to be emancipated from the control of the appetites and passions 
 even more than those who stand on a hijjher intellectual and 
 social plane, and may we not say of a truly liberal education, 
 affecting the soul as well as the mind, what some one says of 
 philosophy, and which in a higher sense might be said of religion, 
 " it will bake no bread, but it gives us our souls ; it gives us 
 heaven ; it gives us the knowledge of those grand truths which 
 concern us as immortal beings ?" 
 
 I would not have been tempted to indulge in this line of remark 
 at so much length, but for its intimate bearing on the object 
 which I have had in view from the outset ; which is to show \ 
 that the strength, power and freedom of the individual, and his 
 entire mental and moial enfranchisement are promoted and often 
 secured by liberal culture, however imparted; with corresponding 
 advantages to the connnunity, the nation and the race. Among 
 the appliances of culture I include all truth, so far as available, 
 whether human or divine, if indeed, such a distinction be allowable. 
 In regard to culture, I say " however acquired," for I admit that 
 much may be accomplished by personal effort ; much may be 
 derived from books, from observation, from travel, but still I 
 think that there are great advantages in the college and university 
 systems, under which large bodies of students meet together in 
 the same class-rooms, studying under the same professors, mingling 
 in the same debating and literary clubs, and joining in the same 
 sports. In this way feelings of esprit de corps, of brotherhood, of 
 loyal attachment to the alma mater are created, that, nourished 
 by the traditions and associations of the place, often become a 
 source of strength and power; to say nothing of the fact that 
 
10 
 
 students not unfrequently are nearly as much indebted to each 
 other as to their respective professoi's, and to omit all reference to 
 the dear, sacred, disinterested and lasting friendships that are 
 often connected with college life and form a most valuable portion 
 of it. In this respect it is difficult for the so-called paper 
 Colleges which are also doing much good, but which are mere 
 examining bodies, to do a work equal to that which is being done 
 by the teaching Universities. 
 
 Such being the agencies that are at work in our higher schools 
 of learning, I can hardly conceive of any one who would not be a 
 gainer by being subjected to their liberalising, elevating and 
 humanising influences. I have argued that question in the case of 
 the man destined to toil with hand or brain. Does not the pi-inciple 
 apply to the mostjgifted minds of the race ? The poet is said to 
 be born, not made. If any person may be supposed to be able 
 to dispense with such means of mental discipline it would be the 
 poet. But how stands the fact ? Our distinguished poet laureate 
 possesses natural gifts of a high order, but no one can read many 
 of his poems without seeing how greatly Alfred Tennyson is 
 indebted to the learning and thought of his time. Who so naturally 
 gifted as Robert Burns ? His poems will hardly ever cease to be 
 read ; his songs will never cease to be sung, and yet how far short he 
 comes of what he might have been. His great and sympathetic 
 countryman, Thomas Carlyle, points out this fact. In his unique 
 article on the poet, speaking of his poems, he intimates that they 
 were " no more than a poor mutilated fraction of what was in 
 him ; brief, broken glimpses of a genius that could never show 
 itself complete ; that wanted all things for its completeness ; 
 CULTURE, leisure, true effort" Mr. Carlyle enforces his position 
 by an illustration that is striking and by an argument that is 
 unanswerable. He says : 
 
 An educated man stands, as it were, in the midst of a boundless 
 arsenal and magazine, filled with all the weapons which man's skill has 
 been able to devise from the earliest time ; and he works accordingly 
 with a strength borrowetl from all past ages. How different is his state 
 who stands on the outside of that storehouse, and feels that its gates 
 inust be stormed or forever shut against him. His means are the 
 commonest and rudest ; the mere work done is no measure of his strength. 
 A dwaii behind his steam engine may remove mountains ; but no dwarf 
 will hew them down with his pick-axe ; and he must be a Titan that 
 hurls them ahead with liis arms. 
 
11 
 
 Those of you who have read how Riley in the contest with 
 
 Hanlan was thrown out of the race by losing two strokes, in 
 
 consequence of the breaking of a shoe-!>trap, and who have 
 
 noticed that the conflicts of life resolve themselves relentlessly 
 
 into the survival of the fittest, will hardly require such a Titanic 
 
 demonstration as Mr. Garlyle furnishes in support of his position. 
 
 But with what tenderness, truth, beauty and apt discrimination 
 
 does Carlyle estimate the genius of Burns, and the advantages and 
 
 disadvantages of the poet. Doubtless some of you have learned 
 
 by heart the following tribute to his memory : — 
 
 In pitying admiration, he lies enshrined in all our hearts, in a far 
 nobler mausoleum than that one of marble ; neither will his works, even 
 as they are, pass away from the memory of men. While the 8hakespeares 
 and Miltons roll on like mighty rivers in the country of Thought, bearing 
 fleets traffickers and assiduous pearl-fishera on their waves ; this little 
 Valclusa fountain will also arrest our eye ; for this also is Nature's^ own 
 and most cunning workmanship, bursts from the depths of the earth with 
 a full, gushing current, into the light of day ; and often will the traveller 
 turn aside to drink of its clear waters and muse among its rocks and 
 its pines ! 
 
 I did not intend to refer to the great iconoclast of shams, the 
 
 great critic, biographer and historian, as himself an illustration of 
 
 the influence of science and good letters in enlarging, strengthening 
 
 and enfranchising the mind ; but now that his name has been 
 
 incidentally mentioned, I can hardly avoid doing so in passing. 
 
 Great as is the natural grasp and power of Mr. Carlyle's mind, and 
 
 much of it as may have been due to the character of the original 
 
 fibre, you must all feel that the schools and universities did a great 
 
 work for him when they furnished him with such a knowledge 
 
 of language and philosophy as enabled him to extend his studies 
 
 with pleasure, and thus to become what he long has been, a bright 
 
 particular star in the resplendent galaxy of British literature. I 
 
 shall only add that it is pleasing to be able to believe in regard 
 
 to the great Chelsea sage, now in a very green old age, that the 
 
 enfranchisements of education have not deprived him of the 
 
 benefits of the nurture of his youth, when in his Shorter Catechism 
 
 he was taught that " the chief end of man is to glorify God and 
 
 to enjoy him for ever." Carlyle knows and feels more than most 
 
 men that it is not by idle contemplation that God is most glorified 
 
 in this work-a-day world, but in work that ought to be worship. 
 
 We are informed that to-day he feels more than ever the power 
 
12 
 
 of the prayer which he learned at his mother's knee, when with 
 folded hands he was taught to say, " Our Father which art in Heav- 
 en," the first words in religion and the last words in philosophy. 
 
 But I may be asked, leaving particular and perhaps exceptional 
 cases, to furnish evidence of the fact that the liberalising culture 
 which it is claimed has created or stimulated the modern spirit of 
 inquiry, and promoted the enfranchisement of the individual has 
 actually done so and left its impress on the world. The demand 
 is legitimate and easily met, except as to the limitations of time. 
 
 When we cast a glance back at some of the recent centuries 
 that we have left behind us, we come in contact with a great 
 many things which were then accepted as undoubted verities 
 which can hardly be said to have any existence to-day. Where 
 are those magic arts, on account of their alleged devotion to which 
 so m'any truth-seekers were persecuted and imprisoned and the 
 supposed existence and practice of which caused so much terror ? 
 They have not resulted in any thing much worse than the discovery 
 of gunpowder, electricity and some other well known phenomena. 
 What has become of the great science of astrology, which so long 
 dominated over the minds of men; its revelations filling them 
 with terror and alann ? The names and cards of some astrologers, 
 mostly women, and generally spiritualists, so called, may be read in 
 some newspapers of the neighboring Republic. The operations 
 of such persons are rather obscure and subterranean, and do not 
 exercise much influence on society. Zadkiel is still with us, 
 but his prophecies can be read with as little alarm as the predictions 
 of the weather prophets. They are as harmless as the weird 
 utterances of the fortune-telling gypsies, or the guarded and 
 oracular deliverances of the young lady who reveals to us our 
 destiny by manipulating cards. The operation pleases her and 
 does not hurt any one. It was different at one time, for then 
 the movements of the heavenly bodies were supposed to be mainly 
 directed with reference to the actions of men, more especially the 
 greater personages of the world. As the poets noted : 
 
 When beggars die there are no comets seen ; 
 
 The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. 
 
 And again: 
 
 The warrior's fate is blazoned in the skies ; 
 A world is darkened when a hero dies. 
 
 The appearance of comets has led monarchs to abdicate their 
 
13 
 
 thrones. Eclipses, earthquakes, volcanoes, even thunder and 
 lightning, were variously construed as intimations of the wrath of 
 heaven, or as warnings from the realms of lost souls. What a 
 vast literature this absurd yet terrible science, falsely so called, 
 has had, and what enormous, disgusting and enslaving influences 
 it has exercised. 
 
 The science of astrology fell before the rising light of astronomy, 
 and the knowledge of the laws of gravitation. It passed away before 
 the majestic generalizations of the new science, and now nearly all 
 that is left to us of astrology is a few of the personages to whom 
 we have just referred, and some cabalistic astrological symbols, 
 which some persons still like to see printed in their almanacs. 
 We have been emancipated from the dread of threatening stars, 
 unfriendly constellations and unlucky days. If, however, a young 
 lady would positively refuse to be married on Friday, there are 
 several other days on which the ceremony may be performed with 
 entire impunity. I do not know that the virtues of witch-hazel or 
 mineral-rods have become entirely exhausted, but I do not think 
 that they are much used in searching for gold at the Montagu 
 diggings, or for oil or Albertite at Beliveau. The ignoble army of 
 quacks, pretenders and impostors, has not altogether disappeared, 
 but this is rather because their natural prey, the fools, are not all 
 dead, than because there is any vitaility in the effete delusions which 
 over-awed the minds of our ancestors a century or two ago. Their 
 credulity was so great that they believed the kings of France 
 inherited gifts of healing from St. Louis, and the kings of England 
 from Edward the Confessor. That very saintly monarch, Charles 
 II., touched about one hundred thousand persons for the king's evil; 
 proper religious ceremonies accompanied the acts of healing. Even 
 the great queen Elizabeth, and the good queen Anne, practised the 
 same rite. The bettei- knowledge of-pathology, closer examinations 
 of the alleged cures, a better acquaintance with the scope and 
 universality of law have made sad havoc with these gifts of healing. 
 But the most serious thing that happened to them was a change of 
 dynasty. The healing power was clearly influenced by Jacobite 
 leanings, and though it wrought cures even by the blood of king 
 Charles "the martyr," refused to operate among a people that could 
 accept the revolution. The scientific discoveries already referred to, 
 morecareful habits of observation, the more humane spirit produced 
 
14 
 
 by the study of the humanities, the discovery of a hew continent, 
 
 enlarging men's minds, a result which the crusades and the change 
 
 of place and travel they involved also helped to produce, a better 
 
 knowledge of the Scriptures, and a less cruel spirit, caused by the 
 
 influence of the Divine messages which they revealed, bore hardly 
 
 upon the belief in witchcraft. That delusion did, indeed, die 
 
 hard ; it lived long enough to leave its dark stain upon a portion 
 
 of the new world ; over the old it had long dominated. The 
 
 superstition was based on a misapprehension of the meaning of 
 
 certain passages of the sacred Scriptures, a very common cause 
 
 of dangerous error, .seeing that such error assumed the disguise of 
 
 revealed truth and claimed Divine authority. It was owing 
 
 to the misinterpretation of a word in the Rig-veda, or rather the 
 
 alteration of a couple of letters, probably a delilxsrate imposture 
 
 of the priests, that so many hundreds of thousands, perhaps 
 
 millions of widows, were compelled to permit themselves to be 
 
 burned to ashes on the funeral pyres of their husbands. It was 
 
 in the name of the Founder of the Christian religion, and because 
 
 of the erroneous idea that the alleged theological error was of the 
 
 nature of a crime, to be punished by the civil magistrate, at the 
 
 instigation of the ecclesiastical authorities, that so many human 
 
 beings were cruelly put to death on the scaffold, in the flames 
 
 and in many other ways; often with preliminary and excruciating 
 
 tortures. But there was a great difference between the death of 
 
 the martyr-heretic and that of the supposed witch. The one 
 
 marched to the scene of death with firm step and uplifted eye, 
 
 feeling that death was but the gate of life, and that the martyr's 
 
 crown awaited the so-called heretic at the gates of Paradise ; but 
 
 not so the other. A sympathetic chronicler of the fate of those 
 
 unhappy beings thus graphically indicates the contrast to which 
 
 I have just referred : 
 
 Not for the witches the wild fanaticism that nerves the soul again.s^ 
 danger and almost steels the body against torments ; not for them th © 
 assurance of a glorious eternity that has made the martyr look with 
 exultation on the rising flame, as on Elijah's chariot that is to bear the 
 houl to heaven. Not for them the solace of lamenting friends, or the 
 consciousness that their memories would be cherished and honored by 
 posterity. They died alone, hated and unpitied. They were deemed by 
 all mankind the worst of enemies. Their very kinsmen shrank from 
 them ar, hated and accursed. The superstitions they had imbibed in 
 childhood, bh nding with the illusions of the age, and with the horrors 
 
15 
 
 of thoir position, persuaded them in many cases that they were indeed 
 the bond slaves of Satan, and were about to exchange their torments 
 upon earth for an agony that was as excruciating, and that was eternal. 
 
 It was a protul day for science, for culture, for humanity, for 
 religion, when such atrocious practices fell before the more 
 enlightened, enfranchising spirit of an age that would tolerate them 
 no longer. But the facts of the case should teach mankind that in 
 many cases, it is only by questioning authority, and usage, and 
 prescription, and putting them on their defence, arranging fact 
 and reason against them, that any progress can be made, or that 
 the shackles and fetters of centuries can be rem(jved, and the hoary 
 credulities and superstitions, whose history for long ages may be 
 traced in letters of blood, can be scattered to the four winds of 
 heaven. " It was," says a late historian, " between the writings 
 of Bacon and Locke that Chillingworth taught, for the first or 
 almost the first time in England, the absolute innocence of honest 
 error. It was between the writings of Bacon and Locke that that 
 latitudinarian school was formed which was irradiated bv the 
 genius of Taylor, Glanvil and Hales, and which became the very 
 centre and seedplot of religious liberty. It was between the same 
 writings that the writ de hwretico comhurendo was expunged from 
 the Statute book, and the soil of England for the last time stained 
 with the misbelievers' blood !" 
 
 A similar line of remark applies to the criminal code of England, 
 with its enormous list of capital offences — two hundred and twenty 
 three in all, less than a century ago; and to the tyrannical and 
 ignorant restrictions of trade and commerce and so-called usury, 
 most of which have disappeared before the light, the discoveries and 
 the researches of our times ; to which the thinkers and professors 
 of the schools and colleges have been the chief contributors. 
 
 It was owing to ignorance of the advantages of education, and 
 the way that rewards and punishments operate, that England 
 was long disgraced with that bloody code, to which we have just 
 referred. Then it was that what the State refused to spend on 
 education had to be spent on the relief of pauperism and the 
 repression of crime. The pillory, the habit of flogging men and 
 women in public, and finally in private ; wholesale hanging of 
 vagrants, of whom two thousand perished in the reign of Henry 
 VIII. alone, — these were the old English substitutes for the 
 
IG 
 
 modern cheap defence of nations. It was owing to terror, born 
 of icrnorance, that one class of men wanted the most severe and 
 repressive laws enacted against another; that persons were hanged 
 for killing rabbits, mutilating Westminster bridge, cutting down 
 a tree, or stealing five shillings. It is humiliating to hear that up 
 to the time of Burke and Romilly, immortal names, and later still, 
 there were two hundred and twenty-three offencos in the criminal 
 code of England which were punishable with death ; and that 
 death hardly ever took place without superadded cruelties to 
 the living, or superadded indignities to the dead, whether man, 
 woman or child. But what a change has taken place in our 
 criminal code, even since the earlier years of the present centuiy. 
 Here, again, the humane spirit of the age, which had cast away 
 intolerance and the mad craze of belief in witchcraft, under benign 
 educational and Christian influences, asserted itself and performed 
 a great act of emancipation. It was the assumption of Judge 
 Heath that a felon could not be reclaimed. That being the case, 
 and as it was expensive to keep felons, it was considered that the 
 best use that could be made of them was to hang them. Before 
 that was done, however, they were usually farmed out to jailors, 
 who consigned them to dungeons that were such pestilential living 
 graves as to be well calculated to reconcile any man to the scaffold. 
 Occasionally the prisoners were exhibited at a charge of so much a 
 head, the jailor becoming rapidly rich, even though he frequently 
 paid something for the privilege of tormenting, humiliating and 
 plundering his victims, who had to submit to the most rapacious 
 demands for money to purchase the miserable shreds of food on 
 which they subsisted. That dreadful criminal code is gone. A 
 study of the principles of prison discipline ; a study of the effects 
 of public hangings, when the bravado of the condemned was 
 greeted with the applause of the crowd; a study of the principles 
 of jurisprudence; helped to bring about that consummation, which 
 was demanded in the name of humanity, of science and of religion. 
 It came to be known that a cruel and bloody criminal code did 
 not secure the repression of crime, except in so far as it took the 
 life of the criminal ; it came to be understood that the so-called 
 felons might be reclaimed, and that society had a good deal of 
 responsibility for its felons. The experiment was a costly one. 
 As late as the year 1818, when the repression of crime was widely 
 
17 
 
 carried on at great cost, while education continued to be neglected, 
 the sum of $40,000,000 was ineffectually spent in the relief of 
 paupers in England and Wales. It was no wonder that a change 
 for the better was demanded and took place. But the time would 
 fail me to speak of the injuries inflicted ignorantly by strong 
 nations on weak ones, to the destruction of the one, an<l the injury 
 of the other, as history so sadly tells, the general absurd notions 
 relating to trade, commerce ami ustiry that long held their sway. 
 But they were edstroyed by the teachings of the schools, the 
 impulse given to the industrial spirit by the discoveries of 
 modern science, and the increased facilities for inter-communi- 
 cation. These atrocities, these delusions, thesemistakes, in legis- 
 lation, in jurisprudence, in the fiscal policy of the parent nation, 
 had to yield to the ameliorating and emancipating spirit of the 
 education and the nurture that were fast gaining strength in 
 the country. 
 
 The history of such beneficent changes ought to involve a 
 notice of the great part which books have played in the gigantic 
 work of mental emancipation. Cicero pronounces a well known 
 and very happy euiogium on studies and books. He is surpassed 
 in that line by Lord Macaulay in his essay on Bacon, and by Dr. 
 Channing in a paper on another subject. But Cicero never saw 
 or knew such books as the modern spirit of investigation and 
 inquiry has produced, and the free atmosphere of our higher 
 schools of learning has called into being. Even in Macaulay and 
 Channing's time such books were not so plenty as they are now. 
 Every lover of truth and progress would willingly strew flowers 
 on the graves of the great authors who are gone, or crown their 
 statues with chaplets ; while in his heart of hearts he must honor 
 the men who still live, and thank God that authors were raised 
 up to help to drive away the mists of prejudice and ignorance 
 from our country and our age, many of whose books have all the 
 force of an act of emancipation. The class of books to which I 
 refer, are more especially those which deal with criticism, and 
 especially historical criticism ; with history itself, more especially 
 the history, antiquities, philosophies, mythologies and theologies 
 of the great races, the treatment being by the comparative method, 
 which has produced such grand results in other departments of 
 study, and notably in philology. When I think of the kind of 
 
18 
 
 books which so long furnished the pabulum for men's minds ; 
 wlien I think of what long passed for science, for natural philosophy, 
 for history, for tlieology, I find my very soul rising in rebellion 
 against the frauds, the deceptions, the impostures so long practised 
 upon men, and I feel as if such another revolution as that which 
 by one fell swoop destroyed the whole political and social system 
 of France, might have been expected to descend as the fitting 
 judgment of heaven in the utter annihilation of all such literary 
 rubbish. The Germans were the pioneers in this great work, which 
 was fii-st destructive and next constructive. But they were followed 
 by Englishmen in the same fields and now our own writers take a 
 place second to none. Their elucidations of the history of our 
 own country ; their inquiries into the causes which have effected 
 thought, morals, creeds, trade, commerce and civilization, have 
 made them the benefactors not only of their country, but of their 
 age. They have done much to promote the cause of progress, of 
 true liberty and mental and moral enfranchisement. 
 
 Have we, then, reached the goal ? Have our schools, our 
 universities, our free institutions, our discoveries in physical 
 science, our philosophies, our advance in the industrial and in the 
 fine arts ; our trade, our commerce ; our progress in morals and 
 religion produced the desired ameliorations and refinements in 
 life ? Have they settled the knotty problems which invite solution, 
 or threaten destruction ? Have the beneficent agencies at work 
 been so successful, that the moralist and philanthropist find their 
 work done ; and that they must, like Alexander, sit down and 
 weep because there are no more conquests to be made ? Far 
 otherwise. 
 
 In one respect, indeed, we have made great and undoubted 
 progress. It is now evident that privilege cannot maintain itself 
 against right ; that the vested interests of the few, however those 
 few may be indemnified, must not be allowed to stand in the way 
 of the well-being of the many. No aristocracies however powerful ; 
 no oligarchies however privileged; no democracies however strong, 
 can do so. There are no forms of government or administration ; 
 no fiscal, commercial, industrial, sanitary or philanthropic laws 
 or policies which can be allowed to plead immunity from an 
 investigation of their claims and the application of the test of 
 utility. Whatever is good in privilege will be preserved; whatever 
 
19 
 
 is good in Communism will be eliminated, but the onward march 
 of human IxjingH to a higher plane of comfort and intelligence 
 and a higher sphere of inHuence is their manifest destiny. 
 
 There are not a few moral, social and religious questions, 
 matters relating to taste, to tlu; standard of morals as applicable 
 to all individuals without regard to sex ; to the measure of 
 toleration which we have achieved ; to the effect of creeds and 
 articles of faith, if not revised at reasonable periods, in placing 
 fetters on free infjuiry, or stifling conviction by means of authority, 
 to which I should have liked to refer. Tliey are matters in which 
 the humane and liberalising influence of the schools have not had 
 their perfect work: but I cannot possibly touch on them at present, 
 nor on some other kindred topics which naturally arise out of my 
 theme. Two of the questions of greatest moment to England at 
 present, and which scarcely at all touch ourselves, more especiahy 
 one of them, are the land question and the labour question. The 
 former is that, which as yet, troubles us very little, though it 
 already arises in the United States, notwithstanding the great 
 domain of public lands which the government had to dispose of. 
 It appears that already it has been well nigh gobbled up, and not 
 long since a writer in the Atlantic Monthly aflirmed that, owing 
 to the land monoplies that has been created in that country, all the 
 evils of feudalism were already being experienced in it, without 
 of course the old ameliorations accompanying the system. In 
 Canada we will require to be on our guard against the same 
 evil. Some experiences of it in Prince Edward Island were not 
 found to be agreeable. The land question in England is briefly 
 this, that, according to a late historian, one half of the land is 
 owned by a thousand persons, and four-fifths by five or six 
 thousand persons. A great deal of the land owned by some 
 large proprietors, comprises parks, for&sts, sheep-walks. The 
 disposition of the land, especially as regards the forests and parks 
 and the operations of the game laws, revives the memory of the 
 questions which were agitated first between the Normans and the 
 subjugated Saxons, and afterwards between the English people 
 and their monarchs. It specially revives the record of a very 
 disgraceful and tragic chapter in English history. I refer to the 
 history of the game laws. Archimedes required a place whereon 
 to stand in order to move the world. If it appears, and we think 
 
20 
 
 it is pretty Helf-evi«lent, that ownorsliip of a rca.sonable portion of 
 land is necessary in onler to the comfort and well-being of the 
 masses of the people of the country, then there is little doubt that 
 laws of entail, and of primogeniture must give way before that 
 consideration, the changes being effected in such a way as to 
 indemnify the present lords of the soil. 
 
 An agitation on this subject may clearly be expected, more 
 especially in Ireland, where the late famine with all its attendant 
 sufferings, showed the peril to which the country is exposed. I 
 fondly hope that a solution of the difficulty will be found, and 
 hat a new " merrie England," which I use as a short term for the 
 United Kingdom, will be created — one in which the comforts of 
 the people will be high, their spirit great, and the effervescence 
 of genius, valour, enterprise and chivalry equal to that which 
 marked the reign of Elizabeth, when Shakespeare and Bacon and 
 Ben. Johnson lived ; and when Admiral Drake and Sir Walter 
 Raleigh flourished. 
 
 The other is the labor question. Has sufficient light been 
 evolved from any quarter to enable it to be disposed of? Workmen 
 claim that they carmot live upon their wages; women poison their 
 children one after another because there is not food enough to 
 sustain them. The employer will not yield; the employed strike. 
 There is a civil war in a great manufacturing establishment. All 
 parties auffer, and finally the weaker yields to the stronger. Here 
 is a problem for the scholar, the thinker, the statesman, and the 
 moralist. All England once rang with the appeal : 
 
 men with sisters dear ! 
 
 O men with mothers and wives ! 
 It is not the linen you're wearing out, 
 
 But human creatures' lives. 
 
 But here is a much larger question. Are these matters to be 
 left to be dealt with by the Communists or by the Nihilists ? 
 It is to be hoped not. Can co-operation be made to solve the 
 difficulty ? or, if not, how is it to be solved ? I can only touch 
 upon the point. In connexion with it, let me quote what I consider 
 a remarkably suggestive and comprehensive statement, by the Rev. 
 M. Kaufmann,as published in a late number of the Contemporary 
 Revieiv, and which deals with the subject in the spirit of my 
 present remarks : 
 
 Therefore, as we look with sad feelings on the shadows of our industrial 
 
21 
 
 system cast athwart the luminouH path of modem progress, as we watch 
 the misery, the struggles, and the heroisms of the poor who are deprived 
 of the full sunlight of pros(>erity, wo cannot profoss to find consolation 
 in the frigid abstmctions of orthodox Political Economy, aca^rding to 
 which hard and unViending laws of nature condemn millions to p<>ri)etual 
 degradation and indigence. We are equally unwilling to resign oui-solves 
 with the [H)litician and philanthropist to an interminable continuation of 
 state-charities and private l)t;neficence to alleviate, without abrogating, 
 the sufferings of the |)eople. Still less are we prepared to join those social 
 innovator who, in the reckless impatience and ill-considered schemes of 
 social reconstruction, would entirely demolish the framework of society 
 as a prelude to future social architecture, at the expense of untold suffering 
 and distress during the transition period of social anarchy. We can only 
 find comfort and hope in the reflection that the mental, moral, as well as 
 the material elevation of the working-classes, mainly by their own effort, 
 but aided by public and private philanthropy, increased culture, technical 
 training, and a growing consciousness of their own higher destiny will 
 gradually free them from the chains of lower passions forged by themselves, 
 and emancipate them from social disabilities for which others are partly 
 responsible. Thus the laboring people, recognizing the dignity of work, 
 associated in combined effort, guided by a common will, and inspired by 
 the unanimous desire to promote one another's welfare, will regenerate 
 society from below, eliminate noxious elements in the course of peaceful 
 evolution, and help in bringing about a more perfect union among a more 
 peifect race of human beings. 
 
 A charming picture of an ideal, a happy and a possible social 
 condition. May it become a reality. 
 
 But numerous and difficult as are the problems which must be 
 solved by the aid of our l>e.st minds, and most illustrious guides, 
 by the savans in their retirement, and by professors in their chairs, 
 in order to secure the complete emancipation of men, and to enable 
 them to fulfil their high destiny, it is evident that the course of 
 humanity must be onward. 
 
 Before the ice breaks up in our great rivers, they form highways 
 for traffic, and to one who had no experience, it would seem as 
 if the ice-king would never relax his grasp. But the sun gathers 
 strength ; the ice begins to dissolve. It becomes thinner and 
 thinner. It breaks. Little streaks of blue water begin to be 
 seen. They become wider and wider. Lately the water was 
 cribbed, cabined and confined by the ice. Now the water gains 
 the mastery, and sweeps the ic^ fatters onward. They meet 
 obstacles ; they are piled for a time in heaps ; they assume the 
 shape of miniature icebergs, but they are bome on, on to the ocean, 
 to be swallowed up in its depths, leaving the blue, free, sparkling 
 
22 
 
 waters behind, prepared for all the demands of commerce and of 
 life. So was it with the breaking up of the ignorance, the 
 prejudices, the mental and moral fetters by which men were held 
 captive in other centuries. It seemed at one time as if those 
 bonds would last forever. But there were influences at work to 
 destroy them which were too powerful. Those influences were 
 the joint product of the past and the present. They represented 
 many agencies and instrumentalities favorable to the grand result, 
 nature helping man, as the earth in the Apocalypse helped the 
 woman. The everlasting hills, the silent stars and the great 
 oceans, nourished in men's hearts the love of freedom. The 
 discoverers who have used the forces of nature in giving man 
 greater control over matter and aiding him in scattering far and 
 wide the printed page, were pioneers ; and the poets who thrilled 
 men's souls with songs of freedom ; the patriots and warriors who 
 bled and died for it ; the great teachers and thinkers of the race, 
 who vindicated man's right to knowledge, to life, liberty, and the 
 pursuit of happiness ; the statesman who framed instruments of 
 liberty, magna chartas, bills of right, acts of emancipation, deeds 
 of manumission ; declarations of independence ; the preachers of 
 righteousness who gave the sanction of religion to the acts of 
 heroes ; all these have been co-workers in building the temple of 
 freedom, and in carrying on the great and god-like work of human 
 enfranchisement. Nor will the number of these co-workers ever 
 grow less until their voices cease to be heard. The Girondists 
 when they were being put to death began singing hymns of 
 liberty, and their number was so great that the song swelled into 
 a mighty chorus. But as one after another was led forth to death, 
 the chorus waxed fainter and fainter. At last there was but a 
 single voice to chant the hymn, and soon that also ceased and 
 silence reigned. But the reverse will bo the case with the friends 
 and promoters of freedom. The chorus which they raise is ever 
 being increased in volume and power, nor will the work which 
 they have commenced ever go backward. The rivers will again 
 submit to the seductive embraces of the ice-king. Their waters 
 will again be frozen, still and silent, but the river of knowledge 
 and freedom shall never cease to flow, nor shall the fair trees 
 planted near its banks ever cease to yield their goodly fruits, which 
 
23 
 
 shall minister alike to the intellectual and moral transformation 
 of the nations. 
 
 Be it ours — rather be it yours — my dear young friends, you 
 who are just setting out on the journey of life, with reverence 
 for the past and faith in the future, never to retard but always 
 to promote the happy consummation. Hasten happy time, so long 
 desired, so long foretold, when knowledge, truth and righteousness 
 shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea.