The Sun.
London, England, 1860-05-21 00:00:00

By order.

V. BURLS, Secretary.

INVESTMENT of SAVINGS and CAPITAL.--
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per annum, payable half-yearly, on the Ist of May and Ist of
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CHARLES LEWIS GRUNEISEN, Secy.
Offices : 33, Norfolk-street, Strand, W.C.

EDINBURGH UNIVERSI7I.

INSTALLATION OF LORD BROUGHAM.

The installation of Lord Brougham as Chancellor of the
University of Edinburgh, the first elected by the graduates
to that office, created by the Scottish Universities Act of
1858, took place in the Music-hall, Edinburgh, on Friday
afternoon. The Rector elected by the students, Mr. W. E.
Gladstone, had been installed into office on the 16th of
April last ; but the noble and learned lord chosen to the
higher office of Chancellor had been unable to attend at the
same time, and the two ceremonies were therefore not si-
multaneous, as originallyintended. The demand for tickets
bn the occasion was immensely greater than the accommo-
dation afforded by the largest public hall in the city,
but an audience of about 1,800 persons were assembled to
witness the ceremony and hear the noble lord's inaugural
address. The supreme courts of the three leading denomi-
nations in Scotland—the Established Church, the Free
Church, and the United Presbyterian Church—happened
to be all sitting in Edinburgh at that time, and several hun-
dred of the clerical and lay members of these ecclesiastical
courts were present at the ceremony in their capacity of
graduates, the sittings of the assemblies having been sus-
pended for the time. The accommodation conceded to the
ladies was limited to 150 seats in the front gallery. The
platform was set apart for the academic officials and for
distinguished strangers. There were first conducted to the
platform the following noblemen and gentlemen not in
academic costume :—The Earl of Selkirk, Lord Deas, Lord
Ardmillan, Sir Wm. Jardine, Sir William Gibson Craig,
Bishop Spencer, Principal Tulloch, St. Andrew's, Principal
Barclay, Glasgow ; the Rev. Dr. Maitland, Moderator of
the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland ; the Rev.
Dr. Buchanan, Moderator of the General Assembly of the
I Free Church ; the Rev. Dr. Harper, Moderator of the United
Presbyterian Synod ; General Cameron, C. 8., Bailie John-
ston, Messrs. Fyfe, Peat, and Mood (the municipal cura-
tors of the patronage), Mr. Brougham, Mr. Erskine of
Linlathen, and Mr. Robt. Berry, Secretary to the Univer-
sity Commissioners. The academic processsion then entered
the hall, preceded by the janitor bearing the mace. The
Chancellor, Lord Brougham and Vaux, was, on entering
the hall, received with tremendous cheering. He wore a
magnificent flowered satin robe, with rich gold embroidery,
and a black square cap with golden tassel. The noble lord
walked up the passage to the platform arm in arm with Sir
David Brewster, Principal and Vice-Chancellor of the
University, who wore various academic distinctions. Then
followed the members of the University Court—namely, the
Lord Provost, the Solicitor-General, Professor Christison,
Bailie Grieve, Dr. Alexander Wood, and Dr. John Brown,
in their robes of office. The honorary graduates came next
in succession—namely, the Lord Justice Clerk, Lord Neaves,
Principal Forbes, St. Andrew's ; Dean Ramsay and Pro-
fessor Ferrier, St. Andrew's, Doctors of Laws Land the Lord
Justice General, the Rev. Dr. Reeve, Trinity College, Dub-
lin ; Dr. Stokes, Trinity College, Dublin ; Dr. Sharpoy,
University College, London; Dr. Miller, King's College,
London; John Foster, Esq., and Wm. Fairbairn, Esq.,
Doctors of Law, elect, ull with gowns and hoods proper to
that degree. The members of the Senatus Academicus
followed, and closed the procession.
The Principal and Vice-Chancellor having taken the
chair, the Professor of; Divinity (Dr. Crawford) offered up
prayer .

The proceedings of the *were commenced by tha Soli-
citor-General, the Chancellor's Assessor, presenting the
Chancellor to the Principal.
The SOLICITOR-GENERAL came forward and said,—The
duty has devolved upon me of introduci g to this meeting
the Right Hon. Lord Brougham—(loud cheers)—whom this
University, through its General Council, has elected to be
its Chancellor. (Cheers.) Such an introduction must, in this
case at least, be eminently formal. The University has chosen
Lord Brougham for reasons and upon considerations which
have been recognised and accepted by the whole world.
(Cheers.) You have asked him to become your Chancellor
as a man pre-eminently great in statesmanship and in phi-
losophy, as a great scholar and writer, and, not least, as a
great philanthropist—(cheers)—as a man whom you know
that if the love of knowledge has not through life been his
strongest passion, it is only because he has loved yet more
truly those best fruits of knowledge which consist in the
advancement and improvement of his kind. (Loud cheers.)
He has now left those pressing duties as a statesman which,
in the course of his very busy life, continually weigh upon
him, to return, after his long and illus rious career, to the
scene of his first manly studies, to receive at your hands the
highest honour which it is fh your power to confer upon him
—the first gift of the chancellorship of this University.
(Cheers.) As a man so chosen, so accepted, and so recog-
nised by all the world, it is that I have now the honour to
introduce to the University the Chancellor whom it has
elected. (Loud cheers.)
The Principal then vacated the chair, which was taken
by the Chancellor amid enthusiastic applause.
Professor CAMPBELL SWINTON, as Dean of the Faculty
of Laws, then presented the following distinguished per-
sons to the Chancellor for the honour of LL.D.—namely,
the Right Hon. Duncan M'Neill, Lord Justice-General and
Lord President of the Court of Session ; William Stokes,
M.D. Regius Professor of Physic in the University of
Dublin; John Foster, author of the " Life of Goldsmith,"
" Statesmen of the Commonwealth," &c ; William Shar-
pey, M.D., Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in Uni-
versity College, London, and secretary of the Royal Society;
William Reeves, Bachelor of Medicine, D.D., of Trinity
College, Dublin, and member of the Royal Irish Academy ;
William Allen Miller, M.D., Professor of Chemistry in
King's College, London, and one of the Vice-Presidents of
the Royal Society ; and William Fairbaim, President of
the Manchester Philosophical Society and corresponding
member of the Institute of France. The learned Profes
sor, in each presentation, made a brief recital of the merits
and distinctions of the doctors elect, and the Chancellor
conferred the degree.
Lord BROUGHAM, on presenting himself to deliver his
inaugural address, was received with most enthusiastic
cheering. He said,—Great as is the pleasure of meeting
you on this occasion—great beyond my power of expression
—there unavoidably mingle with these feelings others of a
painful nature. All that surrounds us recalls the memory
of those whom we have lost—the teachers of other days ;
Dalzell, whose learned and useful labours contributed so
much to revive the taste for Greek literature, wbich he was
wont in somewhat irreverent terms to charge the Solemn
League and Covenant with having extinguished, at least
with having banished prosody from the native country of
Buchanan; Dunbar, who most ably and effectually im-
proved upon his master; Playfair, deeply imbued with
mathematical and physical science, possessing in the highest
degree the talent so often wanting in its cultivators, of con-
veying instruction to others ; Robison, master of the same
science in all its branches, teaching it by his invaluable
writings, and whose errors on subjects into which he made
digressions, those who most differed from him were prone
to excuse, almost to admire, from his perfect sincerity and
honesty of purpose ; Stewart, illustrating the great geome-
trician's
delicacy
of
taname,st e wa
nh
di c
ah
bheew
nr igt eedl
owq
ui tehn
che i s
so greanrieulys, f
obuyn
da
in alliance with such severe studies, and enabling him
powerfully to inculcate the truths of the moral and politi-
cal science which he bore so ample a part in founding.
While the voice of these men seems yet to fill the ears, the
form of one yet more illustrious rises before me in all the
grace of his venerable aspect, the father of modern chemis-
try, to whom we owe our acquaintance with the nature of
the bodies that compose our planet nearly as much as from
Newton we derive our knowledge of its relation to the uni-
verse. Yes I within these walls I enjoyed the happiness of
sitting with his numerous class, in breathless silence and
rivetted attention, while Black recounted the history of his
immortal discoveries, and with his own hands performed the
experiments by which they had been made, perhaps with
the instruments he then used, acting over again before our
eyes the same part which had changed the face of science, lay.
ing the deep and broad foundations of his imperishable re •
nown. But there are other sad recollections that now force
themselves on the mind—recollections of tlLf..dlow-st..dentts

I can dwell no longer on the retrospect. It is our duty, in-
stead of indulging in unavailing regrets over the past, to
cast our eye forwards and bestir ourselves that we may be-
Atne the worthy successors of those who have gone before
us. My revered kinsman, our great Principal, the last time
the silver tones of that voice were heard on a public occa-
sion, when the foundation of the new building was laid,
justly extolled the University as attracting students, net
- only from all parts of the British dominions, but almost
from every country in Europe, and from every State in Ame-
rica. Long may this intercourse continue, so advantageous
to all parties. While we gather hints for our improvement
from others, we greatly benefit them, and the interests, the
blessed interests of pease are promoted, not only by the in-
terchange of benefits, but by the natural tendency of men's
feelings to look back with satisfaction, even with tenderness,
upon the residence of their early years, and to cherish the
remembrance of the lessons then taught. Thus, upon the
memory of our nearest neighbonis in Europe, there will
remain impressed the great truths that popular rights can
exist and be respected without the tyranny of the populace;
that liberty does not necessarily degenerate into licentious-
ness, and that abject slavery is not the only refuge from
anarchy. Our kinsfolk of the New World may, in after
life, recollect having known a community in which a church
is established without the existence of a single civil disquali-
fication attached to religious belief, a community in which
the most enlightened and respectable citizens do not abstain
from taking their share in public proceedings, in which the
interference of the multitude with the administration of
justice is a thing unheard of, nay, regarded as incredible ;
and in which the irresponsible mob .tyrant, the instant that
one of his many heads appears, is at once put down by the
ordinary action of the law ; above all, our American friends
may reflect with satisfaction on having been educated in a
city famous for being the first to declare, by its judges,
the great law that a slave's fetters fall from him the mo-
ment he touches British ground. The natives of Southern
Europe—but none such will be suffered by the despot to re-
sort hither; and they must learn without our instruction,
if experience has not already taught them, the nature of a
tyrant—" Non ullum monstrum, nec fcedius, nec tetrius,
neque dis hominibusque magis invisum terra genult, quam
qui, forma hominis, tamen immanitate morum vastissimas
vincit belluas." But even our English neighbours may profit
not only by our teaching but by the principles upon which our
sr tern is founded. The question of extramural instruction
(on which, however, I agree entirely with our Lord Rector)
may be left untouched ; and the vexed question between the
tutorial and the professional methods may also be put on one
side; but it is subject to one observation, which whoever
considers the matter without the exclusive partiality arising
from local prejudice is pretty sure to make, that the blending
together of the two methods is preferable to the adoption of
either alone. But the great benefits that attend our plan of
home instead of college residence can hardly be doubted ; and
it should always be kept in mind that the English plan
originated entirely in the accidental circumstance of Oxford
and Cambridge being mere villages when the Universities
were founded, and all tho pupils being strangers come from
remote districts. It can hardly be doubted that had either
been founded in a great town that plan would not have been
followed. In a small place good reasons may certainly be
given for it; but in such cities as Edinburgh and Glasgow
the residence of students under the paternal roof is a great
benefit accessible to at least the whole inhabitants. When
the London University was established (now called Univer-
sity College) this important consideration entered into our
views quite as much as the bringing the advantages of an
academical education within the reach of those who could
not afford the expense of the old Universities. Taught in
this school, and trained to the capacity whether for specu-
lation or for pursuits of active life, strangers from other
lands as well as our fellow-subjects have made our Univer-
sity worthily known by its fruits ; nor can there be a doubt
that it will continue under its new constitutionrto prefer the
same claims to general respect and gratitude. But I should
not discharge the duties of the high office to which the
kindness of the body has raised me if I did not avail my-
self of this occasion for offering such suggestions and advice
as I deem of useful tendency to those by whom I have the
honour of being surrounded. They may be of little value,
and may possess no other merit than that they result from
the reflection of many long years and of a somewhat various
experience ; but they are delivered with feelings of respect
only surpassed by those of affectionate kindness. First of
all it is to be observed, though the acquisition of general
knowledge is a primary' duty, and the confining our study
within the narrow limits of one or two branches enfeebles
the mind, impairing its powers, and even preventing an
entire mastery of the selected branches, yet it is on every
account highly expedient, indeed all but absolutely neces-
sary, to single out one branch as the main object of atten•
tion. This selection is required by 'the impossibility of
thoroughly mastering different unconnected kinds of know-
ledge, and the risk of distraction whichpassing from ore sub-
ject to another occasions, the danger even of the greatest
evil occurring, that of superficial learning, the rule being
inflexible that no one subject or part of a subject must be
studied without going to the very bottom, fully and
accurately, of what he would learn—not proposing to our-
selves, it may be, to go beyond a certain length, but as far
as we profess and purpose to go, becoming thorSughly master
of the subject. There is, however, another reason for select-
ing one especial branch ; we thus draw as it were a meridian
line to which all our steps in other directions may be re-
ferred. The acquisitions thus made derive additional in-
terest from their connection with the principal and prevail-
ing pursuits; the attention to these is kept awake, and the
memory in proportion retentive of the accessory or subor-
dinate matters, while they lend help and illustration to the
main object of our study. That object is of engrossing
though not exclusive interest ; it does not preclude a mo-
derate attention to others ; but this selection, this single-
ness of entire absorption, is absolutely necessary to avoid
this dispersion of the faculties caused by intemperate devo-
tion to several subjects, whereof the certain tendency is to
produce mediocrity in all, making ordinary capacity, even
when united to great industry, yield but little return of
value, and from the rarest endowments, which temperately,
and judiciously used might render the most important ser-
vice, only obtaining the exhibition of varieties more won-
derful than useful, like the displays of the mocking-bird,
which can warble all the notes that make the grove vocal,
but has no song of her own. That genius is of universal
application cannot be denied ; but the interests of science,
and generally of mankind, as well as of the individual, re-
quire that it should not be so applied. The great lights
of the world afford few, if any, exceptions to this rule.
Had Barrow's professional studies and his attention to the
eloquence of the pulpit not interfered with his mathemati-
cal pursuits, he would probably—Fermal, but for his offi-
cial duties and his general speculations, would certainly—
have made the great discovery of the caldulus, to which both
had so nearly approached. What might not have been ex-
pected from the bold and happy conjectures of Franklin
under the guidance of the inductive method, so familiar to
him in all its rigour, had he not devoted his life to the more
important cause of his country and her liberties ? Priestley's
discoveries, all but accidental, however important, were con-
fined in their extent and perversely misapprehended in their
results by the controversies, religious and political, which
engrossed his attention through life. Descartes, instead of
the one great step which the mathematics owe him, was de-
stined to make vast progress in physical science, and not to
leave his name known by a mere baseless hypothesis, had he
not been seduced by metaphysical speculation; and Lieb-
nitz, but for the same seduction, joined to his legal labours,
would assuredly have come near the Newtonian system in
dynamics, as he had preferred a just claim to share in its
analytical renown. On the other hand, mark the happy re-
sults of concentrated power in Bacon wisely abstaining from
the application of his own philosophy when he found that
previous study had not fitted him for physical inquiries;
Newton, avoiding all distraction, save when he deemed his
highest duties required Borne intermission of his habitual
labours ; nay, had Leonardo da Vinci indulged in the inves-
tigations of natural sciences, for which he possessed so re-
markable a talent and has left such felicitous anticipations,
his name as one of the first of artists would have been un-
known; and had Voltaire prosecuted the study of chemis-
try, in which he was so near making two of the greatest
discoveries, we should never have had the tragedies, the ro-
mances, andi the general history, the foundations of his
fame. But the same principle applies as well to active
life as to the pursuits of science and letters. Every one
should have a special occupation, the main object of his
attention, to which all others are subordinate, and all
more or less referable. With most men this is inevi-
table, because they are engaged in some professional em-
ployment ;but all ought to single out some pursuit, whe-
ther speculative or active, as the chief occupa-
tion of life. Nothing conduces more to comfort and happi-
ness—nothing is a greater safeguard against the seductions
of indolence, or of less innocent, perhaps not less hurtful
indulgence. Nothing gives a greater relish and zest to the
subordinate pursuits. He who has professional duties has
no right to call any hour not earned by the discharge of
those duties his own, for other occupations whether of re-
laxation or even of mental improvement. His business is
his master ; but where there is no such servitude I strongly
recommend the voluntary forming of the relation between
master and slave by the choice of a pursuit, and submitting
to its claims upon our time and our attention as paramount.
After the ery general advice which I have offered, it may
be thought that there are some particular subjects desery •
ing consideration; but these may safely be left to the care
of the learned and excellent persons who, in various depart-
ments, are charged with the duties of this University. On
one or two matters I would ask their and your permission
to dwell, and but for a few minutes; not that I can sup-
pose these subjects to be neglected by the teachers, but that
I would earnestly join my voice to theirs, and inculcate the
closest attention to them. The study of Attic oratory is
one matter which cannot be too strongly pressed upon the
pupil; that of the ancient analysis is another. The ten-
dency of mathematical studies in the present day is to dis-
regard the Greek geometry ; that of classical studies is
well to cultivate Greek learning, but rather to exalt the
poe s above the orators, The immeasurable superiority of
the Greek to the Roman oratory is not only evinced by the
devotion of the greatest master of the latter to the Attic
models, by his constant study of them, by his not ceasing,
even in advanced life, to practise Greek declamation, by his
imitating—nay, translating from them, in his finest passages,
but one consideration is decisive on this head—the Greek
oratory is incomparably better adapted to our modern
debating, business-like habits ; and while it may be truly
affirmed that, with all this excellence, hardly one of Cicero's
orations could even in parts ever be borne either by the
senate or the forum in our times, there is hardly one of the
Greek which might not is circumetauces like those for which

the, were composed, with a few alterations, be delivered be-
fore our tribunals or our public asseniblVs. Souse of De-
mosthenes' very finest orations wore th se in private causes,
and composed to be delivered by the parties, one of themby
nimself. They are very little studied now, but they ell
deserve ample attention both for the matter and the corns
position. The example of the ancient masters is ever to be
kept before you in one important particular, t heir Extreme
care in preparing t heir speeches. 01 this the clearest proofs
remain. Cicero having a book of passages to be used on
occasions is Well known ; indeed, we have his own account
of it and of the mistake he on e made in using it (Ad At t
xxi. 6), but the book of inyrmia which Dem t.thel,es had
has come down to us, the only doubt being raised (though I
hardly think there can be any), whether they were,
.like
Cicero's passages, kept ready for use, or passages prepared
of speeches the preparation of which on the whole he had
not time to finish.. One thing is certain, that he was
very averse to extempore speaking, and most reluctantly,
es he expressed it, " trusted his success to fortune ," and
his orations abound, in passages, and even parts of pas-
sages, again and again used by him with such improve-
ments as their reception en delivery or subsequent reflec-
tion suggested. There is even seen great parsimonyin pre-
serving small portions unchanged whin the right cornpo
sition had been attained. I have examined this subject
very fully on different occasions, and I find the views takev
are approached by Attic scholats• both in England and
France. But I dwell upon the subject at present in order
to illustrate the necessity of full prepartion and of written
compo ition to those who would attain real excellence-in
the rhetorical art. In truth, a certain proficiency in public
speaking may be acquired by any one who chooses often to
try it, and can'harden himself against the pain of frequent
failures. If he is a person of no capacity his speeches will
be very bad ; but even though he be a man of genius they
will not be eloquent. A sensible remark or a fine image may
occur; but the loose, and slovenly, and poor diction, the
want of art in combining and disposing of his ideas, the ina-
bility to bring out many of his thoughts, and the incom-
petency to present any of them in the best and most effi-
cient form, will reduce the speaker to the level of an ordi-
nary talker. His diction is sure to be clumsy, incorrect, un-
limited in quantity, and of no value. Such a speaker is
worth hearing, "Sine lace guidon conseientia" (says Quin-
tilian, speaking of written composition) "/pea ilia extem-
pore dicendi facultas inamen modo loquacitatem debit et
verba in labris naseentia" (xliii.) It is a common error
to call this natural eloquence; it is the reverse; it is
neither natural nor eloquent. A person under the influence
of strong feelings or passions, pouring forth all that fills his
mind, produces a powerful effect upon his hearers, and often
attains without 'any art the highest beauties of rhetoric.
The language of the passion flows eas ly, but is concise
and simple, and the very opposite of the wordiness just de-
scribed. The untrained speaker who is also unpractised,
and utters according to the dictates of his feelings, now
and then succeeds perfectly ; but in these rare instances
he would not be the less successful for having studied
the art, while that study would enable him to succeed
equally in all he delivers and wou d give him the same
control over the feelings of others whatever might be the
state of his own. Herein indeed consists the
value of the study ; it enables him to do at all times
what nature -teaches on rare occasions Nor is there a
better corrective of the faults complained of in the
eloquence of moder times than the habitual contemplation
of the ancient models, more especially the chaste beauties of
the Greek compositions, and the diligent practice of severe
written preparation. It is the greatest of all mistakes to
fancy that even a carefully prepared passage cannot be de-
livered before a modern assembly. 1 once contended on this
point with an accomplished classical scholar, and no incon-
siderable speaker himself, Lord Melbourne, who at once un-
dertook to point out the passages which had been prepared
and those which were given offhand and at the inspiration
of the moment. He was wrong in almost every guess he
made. Lord Denman on a more remarkable occasion, at the
bar of the House of Lords, in the Queen's case, made the
same mistake upon thepassage delivered before the adjourn-
ment in the middle of the first day of the defence. The ob-
jection made that prepared passages are artificial and dis-
close the preparation is wholly groundless. In the first place
nothing can be more artificial than a speech must in almost
all cases necessarily be that is anything beyond mere con-
versation. Next it is the manner, not the substance which
is prepared; and, finally, if the art used is shown and not
concealed the artist alone is in fault. The ancient analysis
or Greek geometry the other subject specified, well deserves
diligent attention. The preference of the modern analysis,
justified by its far greater power, has been found not.
only to supersede, but unnecessarily to exclude all study
of the ancient. This is very unfortunate ; for the Greek
geometry has eminent and in some respects peculiar
merits. Its elegance is the object of admiration even
with those most devoted to the methods that have sup-
planted it.' The exercise which it gives to the reasoning
faculties is as peculiar to its investigations as the ele-
gance by which they are distinguished. At each step the
preceding steps are kept present to the mind ; and the result
is arrived at, not by a mechanical operation, but by a sus-
tained chain of reasoning. That it is incomparably less
powerful than the algebraic geometry, which we owe to the
happy suggestions of Descartes and the subsequent disco-
very of Newton and Liebnitz, cannot be denied. .But that
its powers have been much underrated is manifest from the
extraordinary success of Matthew Stewart in solving pro •
blems before deemed beyond its reach—Kepler's problem
and the inverse problem of centripetal forces—although it
may well be questioned if he could by mere geometrical ,
analysis have pursued these investigations' had Newton's
demonstration not been known to him. In one respect,
however, the ancient analysis has a singular motif, the, die
cussion of limits. Its careful exhaustive process of examin-
ing all the cases in which any solution is possible, and thus
preventing any oversight, is invaluable, and might furnish
suggestions of importance to the modern analyst., The re •
mailable error into which Newton fell in his solution of
the problem justly termed by him love ornnium
(of .finding the comet's trajectory from three observa-
tions) could never have occurred under the ancient method,
for in discussing the limits it would have been found that
the 16th Lemma has a prismatic case, and that it is the case
of the comet—a matter never cobserved until V. Bascovitch
hit upon it in 1739, all which was before known being that
the Newtonian solution must be erroneous, because it threw
the comet of that year on the wrong side of the sun.
Though these merits unquestionably belong to the ancient
analysis, nothing can be more inaccurate than the view
sometimes taken by its admirers, that it is more strict in its
demonstration than the modern. There can be no degrees
of certainty, and the proofs are absolutely certain in both.
When the study of the Greek geometry is recommended to
those whose rule must be with the Principle, nocturne ver-
sate menu, versate diurna, it should be borne in mind how
highly the author of that immortal work prized the ancient
method of investigation, as we learn both from the internal
evidence of the book itself, and from the statement of his
friend end follower Haley, himself a diligent student of
the Greek geometry. Let the high authority of Mr.
Chasles be added, himself a great master of the most recent
improvements of the calculus ; and in this place it would be
.wrong to pass over the distinguished names of Wallace and
Ivey, both deeply imbued with the principles of the modern
analysis and expert in their application, but diligently cul-
tivating the ancient also. They were great analysts rn all
respects, and the latter the mast eminent mathematician
that has appeared in This country since Sir Isaac Newton.
But these studies are less connected with the business of
active life than others; the Greek geometry not at all, and
the Attic oratory only important as refining the taste and
being subservient to the perfection of our own. Eloquence,
however, can only in these times be worthily employed in
furthering objects little known to, and if dimly perceived
little cared for, by the masters of the art in ancient days—
the rights of the people, the improvement of their condition
their advancement in knowledge and refinement—above all,
in maintaining the cause, the sacred cause, of peace at home
and abroad. Suffer me to dwell somewhat upon the intimate
connection of this last-mentioned important subject with the
education of youth, the formation of their opinions, the che-
rishing of right feelings, upon the merits of those whose
history is taught, or who are known as contemporaries, at
least as having flourished intimesnear our own. Historians
and political reasoners, the instructors of the people, have
ill-discharged their duty in this most important respect; par-
taking largely of the illusions of the vulgar which they were
bound to dispel, dazzled by the spectacle of great abilities,
and still more of their successful exertion, they have held
up to admiration the worst enemies of mankind, the usur-
pers who destroyed their liberties, the conquerors who shed
their blood—men who in the pursuit of power or fame made
no
,account of the greatest sufferings they could'inflict on
their fellow creatures. The worst cruelty, the vilest falsehood
has not prevented the teachers of the world from bestowing
the name of great upon these scourges, as if themselves be-
longed either to the class of ambitious warriors and intrigu-
ing statesmen, or to the head of ordinary men whom suc-
cessful crimes defrauded at once of their rights and their
praises ; and to this must be ascribed by far the greater part
of the encouragement held out to unprincipled, profligate
conduct in those who have the destinies of nations in their
hands. It is not, however, by merely abstaining from in-
discriminate praise, and by dwelling with disproportionate
earnestness upon the great qualities and passing over the
bad ones of eminent men, and thus leaving a false general
Impression of them, that historians err and pervert the feel-
ings and opinions of mankind. Even if they were to give a
careful estimate of each character, and pronounce just judg-
ment upon the whole, they would still leave by far the most
important part of their duty unperformed, unless they also
framed their narrative so as to excite an interest in the
worthies of past times; to make us dwell with delight on
the scenes of human improvement, to lessen the pleasure
too naturally felt in contemplating successful courage or
skill, whensoever these are directed to the injury of man-
kind ; to call forth our scorn of perfidious designs, however
successful, our. detestation of cruel and lsloood-thirsty pro-
pensities, however powerful the talents by which their in-
dulgence was secured. Instead of holding up to our ad-
miration the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious
war," it is the historian's duty to make us regard with un-
ceasing delight the ease, worth, and happiness of blessed
peace. He must remember that

" Peace hath her victories
No less renowned than war's ;

and to celebrate these triumphs, the progress of science and
of art, the extension and security of freedom, the improve-
ment of national institutions, the diffusion of general . pro-
sperity—exhausting on such pure and wholesome themes
all the resources of his philosophy, all the gi aces of his
style, giving honour to whom honour is due, withholding
all incentives to misplaced interest and vicious admiration,
and not merely by general remarks on men and events, but
by the manner of describing the one and recording the
other, causing us to entertain the proper sentiments, whether
of respect or interest, or of aversion or indifference, for the
various subjects of the narrative. Consider for a moment
what the perpetrators of the greatest crimes that afflict
humanity propose to themselves as their reward for over-
running other countries and oppressing their own. It is the
enjoy meat of power, or of fame, or of both.
" He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That cull fame in such martial acts as these,
And he can spread thy name on lands and seas,
Whatever clime the sun's broad circle warms."
Unquestionably the renown of their deeds, their names being
illustrious in their own day, and living after them in future
ages, is, if not the uppermost thought, yet one that fills a
large place in their minds. Surely if they were well assured
that every writer of genius, or even of such merit as secured
his page from oblivion, and every teacher of youth would
honestly hold up to hatred and contempt acts of injustice,
cruelty, treachery, whatever talents they might display,
whatever success they might achieve, and that the opinions
and the feelings of the world would join in thus detesting,
and thus scorning, it is not romantic to indulge-a hope that
some practical discoursgentent might be given, to the worst

enemies of our species. That in this as in everything else
there is actionand reaction cannot be doubted. The exist-
ence of the popular feeling in its strength beguiles the his-
torian, an instead of endeavouring to reclaim, he panders
to it. Sounder and better sentiments might gradually be
diffused, and the bulk of mankind be weaned from 'this fatal
error, of which the heavy price is paid by themselves in the
end. his not to be d snied that the degree of reprobatioti due ,
to such crimes must prectically depend upon the age in
which they have been committed and the nation to which
the offender belongs. m It, would be a gross exaggeration of
feelings' right in themselves were the stoic blame attached
to usurpation or conquest among eastern nations as
:1,11011 Europeans, or anieng, Europeans in the dark eges
as all, when calmly considerine, their conduct, without
lenitation prunounee upon tyrants and conquerors in the
present day. Lint one consideration oftentimes referred
is mever to be admitted as an extenuation, much lest a
defence of unjust hostilities —the propensity of man to
War, called tire incurable propensity by those who
make no attempt to apply a remedy. This is the very
worst .and most vulgar form of necessity,' or denying
nian's free-will, end impiously making Heaven the author
of inr guilt. But the absurdity is equal tn the wickedness
of the pretext. The self-same topic might be used in excuse
or in palliation of the ordinary crimes of pillage an I murder
—nay, might be applied as well to physical as moral evil,
and given as a reason against using the lightning rod to
protect us from the storm, or against taking precautions to
escape the venom of the snake when his rattle warns us,
or the fury of the tiger when he howls in the forest. Yet
what but the- proneness of man to succumb under great
genius, wickedly used, can be urged in extenuation of
Napoleon's usurpation, by which he made France pay for
her delivery from the anarchy and bloodshed of the Repub-
lic by the utter loss of her freedom, and in extenuation of
his dreadful wars waged to gratify an almost insane ambi-
tion at the cost of the people's misery, and the massacre
and pillage of her neighbours ? From the height to which
his crimes had raised him of all but Emperor of the West,
and from the eminence so dearly purchased by the French,
of having dictated terms to all the Sovereigns in their own
capitals, he and they were hurled. Twice they had the
bitter mortification of receiving the law in their own capital
from those whom they had trampled upon; and his fate and
their humiliation were the work of headstrong passions
blinding his reason after extinguishing his human feelings.
The latest and best historian of his reign (M.Thiers), though
filled with admiration of his genius, and, as if natural to
human weakness, leaning towards the hero of his tale, has
been compelled to account for his downfall by six capital
errors committed through a lust of dominion which no con •
quest could satiate, and through the caprices which sooner
or later are sure to spring up in the soil of despotic power
uncontrolled. Of these six errors any one would have
sufficed to shake, almost to subvert, his power ; and
every one of them had caused the destruction of thou-
sands, the wretchedness of millions. It would only be
by a pervision of all right feelings that the spectacle of his
fate could excite our pity, or that we should regard his ex-
pulsion from France amid the execrations of the people
whom he had plunged into slavery, misery, and discomfi-
ture, his attempt at self destruction, his wretched end, a
solitary prisoner in a remote island, as other than the just
retribution by unexampled suffering for unexampled crimes ;
by the pride which had for self-indulgence humbled all
others being laid prostrate in its turn; by that wretched-
ness falling at length on himself which whensover he had
a purpose to serve he had never hesitated to make others
undergo. Let it be remembered that in every war which he
waged, from his assumption of supreme power until his
banishment to Elba, he was the aggressor ; that each one
was taken for his personal aggrandisement, with a thin
disguise of national glory--the glory of France, of which
he was not a native—and we have the measure of his guilt.
The death of Enghien, the sufferings of Wright, the
punishment of Palm proceeding from the excess of
cruelty which fear is so apt to engender in a violent tem-
per), and the tortures of Toussaint, are often dwelt upon
because the fortunes of individuals, presenting a more de-
finite object to the mind, strike our imagination and rouse
our feelings more than wretchedness in large masses less
distinctly perceived. The outrage upon religion by his de-
claring himself a Mahometan to further his views in Egypt,
and the equal outrage upon morality by the mingled force
and fraud in his circumvention of the Spanish princes,
'have in like manner been singled out as peculiar subjects of
reproach. But to the eye of calm reflection the undertaking
an unjustifiable war for a selfish purpose, or the persisting a
day longer than is necessary in a contest which was begun
on right grounds, presents a more grievous object of con-
templation, implies a disposition more pernicious to the
world, and is fitted to call down a reprobation far more se-
vere. The history of later times, indeed of our own country,
affords a contrast to the failings and the vices which we
have been viewing, and the contemplation of which may
well excite sorrow for the great genius which they perverted
and abhorrence of the mischievous uses to which they turned
it. Of our own illustrious captain and statesman, who de-
feated all Napoleon's Marshals in the cause of his country
and her allies, and who ended by overcoming Napoleon him-
self, it might not be fit to speak in this way ; because,
though no one can have the least doubt how he would have
acted in a like position, yet he never had the opportunity of
declining an assumption of power bey easl the law. But iu
Washington we may contemplate everf leecellence, military
and civil, applied to the service of his country and of man •
kind—a triumphant warrior, unshaken in confidence when
the most sanguine had a right to despair, a successful ruler in
all the difficulties of a course wholly untried—directing the
formation of a new government for a great people, the first
time so vast an experiment had ever been tried by man—
voluntarily and unostentationlsly reeiring from supreme
power with the veneration of all parties, of all milieus, of all
mankind, that_the rights of men might be conserved, and
that his example might never be appealed to by vulgar
tyrants. Itkill be the duty of the historian and the sage,
in all ages, to omit no occasion of commemorating this
illustrious man ; and until time shall be no more will a
test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom
and in virtue be derined from the veneration paid to
,the
immortal name of tea [Clinton. But though the offence is
great of par sin;; over the crimes of eminent men without
duly expressing the abhorrence or contempt which they raise
in ail rational and virtuous minds, care must be taken to
describe fully their merits, to set forth their great qualities,
and to admit those good ones which are sometimes found
even in wicked and wholly unprincipled men, and much
more in those whose crimes are an exception to their
general character. The interests of justice and the truth
of history require this candid statement; but it must
be added that the benefits are not inconsiderable which re-
sult from dwelling on these better parts, and pressing them
on men's minds with the authority of great names which
may influence some, while their example must arrest the
attention of all.. Thus the wickedness of Henry V.'s wars
of mere plunder; and his feebleness in sacrificing Oldcastle,
the most distinguished person of the age, to the fury of bigots
whom he was courting, must ever be related with a full ad-
mission, not indeed of the benefits which our Constitution
derived from the cost of his expeditions requiring the popu-
lar consent to his supplies, but of his great capacity as a
commander, his general sincerity and frankness, so rare in
princes and statesmen of these times, and his freedom at least
from such a stain of cruelty as attaches to the memory oT his
uncle, the Black Prince, whom Mr. Hume describes as a per-
fect character, to the hour of his death " unstained by any
blamable action," suppressing the massacre of 3000 persons
of both sexes and all ages at Limoges before his face in his
last illness. So the unjust and sanguinary wars of Edward
111. with Scotland and France must not shut our eyes to his
great talents both in the field and in government, to the
mildness of his administration, and to the improvements he
effected both in our jurisprudence and in our Constitution.
When we describe the political fraud and ' falsehood of
Elizabeth, her maltreatment of Mary, and her covert at-
tempts to take her off by assassination, her sacrifice of
Davidson for obeying her commands for the execution, in
order to support her false denial of those commands, we must
at the same time commemorate her great qualities for govern-
ment, by which she preserved the peace of her dominions in
a season of extreme difficulty from relieious as well as poli-
' tical
,dissensions, and her allowing no influence whatever in
the management of public affairs to those favourites with
whom indeed she led a life of indulgence little sanctioned
by most Protestant historians. But far w rse princes,
while justly held up to reprobation for their tyranny, and to
contempt for their sordid schemes carried into execution at
the public expense, in fact by the plunder of their subjects,
deserve just connnendation for their encouragement of the
arts and advancing the improvement of their country. In-
stead of denying all merit to Lorenzo de Medici, or ascribing
his munificence to vanity, we are only to lament that his
accomplishments and his patronage of genius should have
dazzled good men; friends of liberty as well as of letters, and
blinded them to the conduct of one who enslaved his coun-
try, directed its resources by a serious of fraudulent devices
to his own profit, treacherously intrigued to subvert the
power of his neighbours, shed the blood of his adversaries
at home, sometimes by his official tools, sometimes by
delivering them over to the mob, when their atrocious
offences against him might have been surely visited by
the law. Take even the worst of rulers, those whose
cruelty and profligacy are the detestation of all man-
kind, our own Richard 111. and the Borgias. The for-
mer is believed upon light evidence to have committed
many crimes besides those of which there can be nd
doubt, while just praise is not given to his capacity, his
courage, his improvement of our jurisprudence, and the
mildness of his government to all but the nobles ; and the
latter (the Borgias) have not been generally noted as they
deserved for their talents in government, their protection
of learning, and especially their promotion of the important
study of jurisprudence. The caprice of historians in some
sort resembles that of the vulgar, either struck by signal
turpitude and regarding it as prevailing generally, and ex-
cluding all exceptions, or only securing the exception, and
in
capable
of it the rule of decision. A Borgia is held
of any good of any kind ; a Lorenzo incapable of evil. No-
thing can tend more to keep men in ignorance than such.
exaggerations ; and they have the hurtful effect of intercept-
ing the instruction which a contemplation of the real state
of the facts in each case is fitted to impart. The ills that
have proceeded from the great scourge of later days have
been adverted to, as well as the mischievous effects of the
admiration which he excited, and which unhappily has not
ceased to inspire the people whom ho most injured. But
some of his great qualities it would be impossible to admire
too much ; and though his genius may be pronounced in-
imitable, in some things his example may be followed, and
it is therefore fit that these should be recorded. There is,
indeed, an obvious expediency in dwelling rather upon qua-
lities the example of which may lead to imitation, than upon
genius however calculated to command admiration—genius
which consists in the rare gifts of rich fancy, perception of
resemblance and differences not app rent to ordinary minds
but admitted by all as soon as suggested, quick and sure
judgment, and the power of not only abstracting the atten-
tion from all objects save one, but of directing and concen-
trating it upon that one. This is what we call genius, the
gift of very few, and the works of which ate to be admired
at an awful distance. The ordinary qualities which diligent
study and a fixed desire to excel ma.y place more or less
within the reach of all are most fit to be recommended by-
the example and the success of distinguished individuals.
Of these Napoleon possessed two in an eminent degree ;
the can never be sufficiently kept in mind, and
they are of universal application the strict eco-
nomy of time, in compliance with the maxim, " Take
care of the' minutes, the hours will take care of
themselves ;" and the habit of invariably mastering, the
whole of whatever subject or part of a subject he considered
himself interested in being acquainted with. The captain
who conveyed him to Elba expressed to me his astonishment
at his precise and, as it were, familiar knowledge of all the
minute details connected with the ship. I heard from one
connected with the great Helvetic mediation (1802) that,
though the deputies soon found how hopeless they were of
succeeding with the First Consul, yet they felt themeelves

defeated in the long discussion by one more
master of all the details of the complicated q
they-could have believed it possible for any f,
bedome. My illustripus friend the Duke of Welling, jl
a like consummate acquaintance with whatever subject he
wa called upon to consider practically ; among others may
be nentioned his regimental economy and discipline, which
18•Teipoleon did not so well know, because he cared not so
Lich for the comforts of his men, nor was at all sparing of
their lives (a principal object at all times with the Duke) ;
but he had a knowledge almost p eternatural of the place
where each corps, or even company of his vast armies, was
to be found at any given time, because this was ultimately
connected with the use ho might make of what he some-
what unfeelingly termed " the raw material." These ex •
antples cited of the rule which forbids superficial know-
ledge absolutely, and prescribes going to the bottom of
every subject, or part of any subject, we intend to 1 urn,
give it the sanction of the exantple of both those
eminent men, -and show that it is a cause of
their invariable success. The effect of action and
re, etion upon the hi eorian ant the multitude.
Las been adverted to. As regards the actors in the affairs of
the world it is not to be overlooked, and it may even afford
seine extenuation of their faults. The multitude are in a
measure the accomplices, if not the instigators, of those who
for selfish objects betray their interests and work their
misery or their ruin. Seduced by the spectacle of triumphant
force, stricken with wonder at the mere exercise of great fa-
culties with great success, men withdraw their eyes flout
the means by which the ends are attained, and lose their
natural hatred of wickedness in their admiration of genius
and their sense of power. It is truly a disinterested admira-
tion, for they themselves pay the price and their oppression
with ever) suffering that misgovernment can inflict, is the
result of the cruelty which they did not abhor, the meanness
which they did not scorn, when dazzled with the false lustre
shed over detestable or despicable deeds by brilliant capacity
crowned with victory. Napoleon knew how safely he might
rely on their delusion, and he knew that the people whom he
enslaved and ruined were intoxicated with the glory which
he gained and for which they so heavily paid. In one re-
spect at least he was less to blame than they ; he faced the
danger, if he witnessed the miseries of war ; while they in
tweed safety upheld him in his course to make their coun-
try unprofitably powerful by the slaughter of thousands
and the misery of millions. Surely a most sacred duty is
imposed upon the teachers of mankind, whether historians
who record or reasoners who comment upon events, to
exert all their powers for weaning them from this fatal de-
lusion ; to mark as their worst enemies those who
would cherish the feelings of mutual aversion or jealousy
between nations connected by near neighbourhood, which
makes hostility most pernicious, and friendly intercourse
most beneficial ; and, above all, unceasingly to impress upon
their minds the contrast between the empty renown of war,
with its unspeakable horrors, and the solid glory of peace, as
real as its blessings are substantial. It is said that the pre-
sent ruler of France returned from his successful campaign
impressed with a deep sense of its horrors, and that his
wise devotion to the peaceful improvement of the country
has been stimulated by the recollection of the scenes he
had witnessed. Let us hope and trust that no vile flat-
terer will ever succeed iii tempting him to abandon his
course, and that he will join all virtuous and rational
men in discountenancing the feelings which, under his
predecessor, were productive of such misery to France and
to the world—feelings which imposed and still impose upon
all neighbouring nations the heavy cost of unceasing watch-
fulness and preparation. It is not enough, however, that
the instructors of the people, and especially of youth, avoid
propagating dangerous errors, and implanting or encourag-
ing in their growth feelings hostile to the best interests of
mankind. Their duty is to inculcate principles and cherish
sentiments having the direct tendency to promote human
happiness. Now, the wisdom of ancient times, though it
dealt largely with the subject of our passions, and gene-
rally with the nature of man in the abstract, never stopped
to regard as worthy of consideration the rights, the com-
forts, and the improvement of the community at large. Th e
people were appealed to when advantage could be taken of
their prejudices, or their feelings could be excited for a par-
ticular purpose; their advancement in knowledge and re-
finement was little regarded, and he who devoted himself
to render them real service was v ewed as going out of the
ordinary path and seeking glory in a singular and fan-
tastic way. " Vide queaso," says Cicero, addressing Julius
Caesar, " ne tua divine virtus admirationis plus sit habitura
quam glories ; si quiden gloria est illustris et 1)11-vegeta
multorum et magnorum vel in suos, vel in patriam, vel
in omne genus hominum fama meritorum." (Pro liar•
cello, viii.) The space was supposed impassable that sepa-
rates the vulgar from the philosopher and the statesman ;
they were not even regarded as much above the brutes
which perish. "Si ut sapientibus placet," says Tacitus,
" non cum corpore extinguuntur magma aninue." A
sounder philosophy and a purer religion have in modern
times entirely abolished all such distinctions; and to con-
sult the interests and promote the improvement in every
way of the great body of the people is not only the object of
all rational men's efforts, but the best title to public respect
and the direct road to fame. The instructors of youth have-
thus devolved upon them the duty of directing the minds
of their pupils towards the most important purposes which
their acquirements can serve to promote, the diffusion of
knowledge among the people, and their general improve -
ment, inculcating the grand lesson of morals as well as of
wisdom, that whatever they learn, of whatever accomplish-
ments they become possessed, in a word, all their acquired
talents as much as their natural gifts are a trust held for
the benefit not more of themselves than of their fellow-crea-
tures, and of the use whereof they will one day have to ren-
der a strict account. The impressions left on the mind in
early years are so lively that they last through life; and
even when partially affected by other studies, or
by the cares of the world, they still exert some
influence, and may often be found fur more than is
supposed to modify the counteracting and neutralizing
influences which they cannot resist. This nadoubted truth
is not the less important for being often admit ed,
though there is reason to fear oftener admitted than acted
upon in practice. The diffeteence between ancient ammo
and modern in one great particular cannot be too con-
stantly kept before the eyes of youth—the difference aris-
ing from the art of printing, and its important effect, the
discussion of all questions by written addresses to lunch
greater numbers than can attend public meetings. The
orator has thus a fellow-labourer, it may be a supporter or
an opponent, but certainly a rival, in the author, who no
longer, as of old, eddresses a select few at a different time,
perhaps long after the occasion of the discussion, but ad-
dresees the same persons who form the orator's audience,
and vast numbers besides, nearly at the same time and in
the same circumstances. It is needless to observe how
incalculably this increases the importance of the literary
class of the community; and this never can bo too deeply
impressed upon the student. All the heavy responsibility
which rests on this class should be unceasingly dwelt
upon; nor can there be a more ,fit thing than to cite the
words of Mirabcau, who held the literary character in the
highest estimation, glorying in the name of author, proud
and not ashamed of receiving the wages of his labour ne-
cessary for his support, albeit of a house more under the
dominion of family pride than any in France, to the excess
of denying their relationship to the great engineer who
belonged to their race (Regueti), and conferred more real
glery on them than all its other members. Mirabeau thus
apostrophizes literary men : " Oh I would they but devote
themselves honestly to the noble art of being useful 1 if
their indomitable vanity would compound with itself
and sacrifice fame to dignity if, instead of villifying one
another, and tearing one another in pieces, and mutually
destroying their influence, they would combine their exer-
tions and their labours to overthrow the ambitious who
usurps, the impostor who deceives, the base who sells him-
self ; if, scorning the vile vocation of literary gladiators, they
banded themselves like true brethren in arms against pre-
judice, falsehood, quackery, tyranny of whatever descrip-
tion, in less than a century the whole face of the earthwould
be changed I" It is pleasing, it is also useful, to reflect upon
the tendency of academical studies to pierce beyond our
walls, and by means of popular assemblies and the press to
spread over the people the knowledge here acquired. Not
only have the lectures occasionally delivered by our Profes-
sors beyond the precincts had the happiest effect on the
middle classes, but they have extended to the working
men. It was, indeed, a pupil of this University (Birk-
beck), afterwards transferred to a quasi-collegiate chair at
Glasgow, who 60 years ago made the great step of lecturing
upon scientific subjects to the working classes. In the
town where Watt in his workshop applied in philosophic
principle the knowledge he had learned from Black to the
construction of the great engine which has almost changed
the face of She world, the attempt was most appropriately
made, and with complete success, to demonstrate that the
highest intellectual cultivation, and a keen relish for the
sublime truths of science, is compatible with the
daily toils and cares of our humbler brethren. A further
encouragement to the spread of such studies has been
recently given by the English Universities in bestowing
honours of a class subordinate to academical, after due ex-
amination. Ther' can be no doubt that we shall follow so
admirable an example. - The instructors of youth have no
more important duty than to inculcate the great truth—even
through life worthy of a large share in the guidance of our
conduct—that it is beneficence rather than benevolence, at
least, benevolence shown in beneficence, which can be re-
garded as a virtue, and entitled to confidence and respect.
Mere good disposition, unless guided by good judgment,
may be admired as amiable, but must be barren of good fruit,
and may even produce evil. Charity ill bestowed may prove
more hurtful than selfishness and they who have impove-
rished themselves or their heirs may find others yet more
injured by their ignorance or errors, as gifts bestowed with
the best intentions have been found to promote the immora-
lity and propagate the disease which they were desirous to
prevent. Foundling and small-pox hospitals, both in Eng-
land and Ireland and on the continent, are the proofs. kut
where the will to serve mankind unites with the knowledge
how to serve them—where the will is followed by the deed,
and the desire to do good is gratified at a personal sacrifice,
there can be no greater merit in the eyes of a man, nor any,
let us humbly affirm, more fitted to obtain the approval of
Heaven. It is bountifully ordered that such conduct shall
even in this life be rewarded both by an approving conscience
and by the delight which the reflection affords. But gene-
rous acts are limited by our means, and we can only in a
few instances have this enjoyment. I have known a small
circle of persons who made a point of doing some act of
kindness to individuals daily—that is, daily on an average,
keeping what was termed a " Titus account,, from the Ro-
man Emperor, who deemed every day lost in which some
deed of mercy or favour had not been done. But such indul-
gences are confined by our circumstances or our necessuy
avocations. Then let us compound by acts which have a
beneficial tendency on a larger scale and give whole classes
of our fellow-creatures cause to bless our names. Such is
the duty, and such ought to be the pleasure of all men, each
in his station, and at every age, from the entrance into
active life down to its close, even of those whose years make
it necessary to relax, though by no means to give up their
labours. From an entire discontinuance of work they
would vainly seek repose--
"The want of occupation is not rest,
A mind quite vacant is a mind dill rest."
Tu former times it was very useful for those whose liven
had passed in camps or courts, wearied with the turmoil
and anxieties of war, or the busy restlessness of intrigue,
to seek repose in the cloister,
" In the deep solitudes and awful cells,"
where they,fancied that
" Heavenly pensive meditation dwells ;"
and fondly hoped by superstitious observances to efface
their own memory of evil deeds, or to propitiate Heaven by
mortifications which tormented themselves and benefited
no one. Even many whose course had been blameless and
who had only to lament the advance of age unfitting them
for active life, sought the cloisteren shade with the same
design of enjoying rest and seeking the Divine favour by
unprofitable service. In our day a wins and more virtuous
course is taken by those who are no longer able to perform
all the duties which exhausted the strength of their youth.
They still feel able to contribute .their share, though far
less than they could wish, to The service of mankind.
They trust that their solacing themselves with classical re-
miniscences may be pardoned to their period of life, as well
as the prolixity of speech which attends it ; and at any rate
they can abstain from hurtful and degrading indulger:wee,