The Sun.
London, England, 1860-04-18 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING CAPRIL :IS, i 60.


INSTJLLATION OF MR. GLADSTONE

AT EDINBURGH.

,
Theiastallation of Mr. Gladstnne as rector of the
Edinbuxgh University took place on Monday in the
Music Hall of that city, with considerable cere-
mony, and in presence of a large body of students,
together with such of the general public as were
fortunate enough to secure tickets of admission.
Vice-Chancellor and Principal Sir David Brewster,
by virtue of his office, prelided on the occasion, and
the Divinity ProfeMor opened the proceedings by
prayer.

In accordance with a resolution agreed to by the
Senatus, the honorary degree of LL.D. was then
conferred on the following gentlemen distinguished
in science and literature .—The Right Hon. W. E.
Gladstone, the Right Hon. the LoK4 Justice-Gene-
ral, the Hon. Lord Neaves, the Solicitor-General,
the Very Rev. Dean Ramsay, Principal Forbes, and
the Rev. H. L, Mansel, Professor of Moral and
Metaphysical Philosophy, Oxford.
Mr. David Hall, who represented the students,
then formally presented the newly installed rector
to-the Vice-Chancellor.

Mr. GLADSTONE then came forward to deliver
his inaugural address. The ladies in the gal-
leries waved their handkerchiefs, while the
whole audience rose
.and cheered with the utmost ;
enthusiasm. On the subsiding of these demonstra-
tions, Mr. Gladstone proceeded as follows :-4,-Prin-
cipal, Professors, and Students of the University of
Edinburgh—l cannot estimate lightly the occasion
on which I meet you, especially as it regards the
younger and the larger part of my academical au-
dience. The franchise which you have exercised
in my favour is itself of a nature to draw attention:
for the legislature of our own day has by a new,-
deliberative act, invested you, the youngest mem-
bers of the university, with a definite and not in-
considerable influence in the formation of that
court which is to exercise, upon appeal, the highest
control over its proceedings. This is a measure
which would hardly have been adopted in any land-
other than our own. Yet it is also one in the best
sense agreeable to the .spirit of our own country
and of its institutions ; for I think it is eminently
British to admit the voice of the governed in the
choice of governors—to seek, through diversity of
elements, for unity and harmony of result, and to
train men for the discharge of manly duties by let-
ting them begin their exercise betimes. You have
chosen, gentlemen, as your representative in the
University Court, one widely enough separated
from you in the scale of years ; one to whom
much of that is past which to you is as yet future.
It is fitting then that he should speak to you on
such an occasion of that which unites us together,
namely, the work of the university, as a great
organ of preparation for after life, and that in treat-
ing of what constitutes the great bond between us,
he should desire and endeavour to assist in arming
you, as far as he may, for the efforts and trials of
your career. Subject to certain cycles of partial
revolution, it is true that, as in the material so in
the moral world, every generation of man is a la-
bourer
for that which succeeds it, and makes an
addition to that great sum total of achieved results,
which may, in commercial phrase, be called the ca-
pital
of the race. Of all the conditions of :exist-
ence in which man differs from the brutes there
is not one of greater moment than this, that each
one of them commences life as if he were the first
of a species, whereas man inherits largely from
those who have gone before, How largely none of
us can say ; but my belief is that, as years gather
more and more upon you, you will estimate more
and more highly your debt to preceding ages. If,
on the one hand, that debt is capable of being ex-
aggerated or misapprehended, if arguments are
sometimes strangely used which would imply that
because they bad done much we ought to do no-
thing more, yet, on the other hand, it is no less true
that the obligation is one so vast and manifold that
it can never as a whole be adequately measured.
It is not only in possessions, available for use, en-
joyment, and security ; it is not only in language,
laws, institutions, arts, religion ; it is not only in
what we have, but in what we are. For, as cha-
racter is formed by the action and reaction of the
human being and the circumstances in which he
lives, it follows-that, as those circumstances vary,
he alters too, and he transmits a modified—it ought
to 1:16 also an enlarged and expanding—nature on-
wards in his turn to his posterity, under that mys-
terious law which establishes between every gene-
ratidn and its predecessors a moral as well as phy-
sical association. In what degree this process is
marred, on the one hand, by the perversity and by
the infirmity of man, or restored and extended, on
the other, by the remedial provisions of the Divine
mercy-, this is not the place to inquire. The pro-
gress of mankind is upon the whole a chequered
and an-intercepted progress, and even where it is
full-formed, still, just as in the individual youth has
charms that.maturity under an inexorable lavemust
lose,- so the earlier ages of the world will ever con-
tinue to delight and. instruct us by beauties that
are exclusively or peculiarly their own. Again, it
would seem as though this progress—and here is a
darkening and a humbling thought—were a
_pro-
gress of mankind and-not- of the individual man ;
for it seems to be quite clear that whatever be the
comparative greatnaSof the race now anti in its infant
or early stages, wia4May leQcalled the normal specie
mees,so far aeithey have been made' known to us either ,
through external ilirm -or through the-works of the
intellect, lia4e tended rather to-dwindle, or at least
to than to grow in the highest elements of
greatness. ".13a.the exceptions at which these re-
markz, have; 4lanced neither destroy or materially
weaken the profound moment of the broad and•uni-
vc,rsal canon, that every generation of men, as
,they
traverse the vale of, Ilk, are bound to accumulate,
and in-di-4114"ai1t6.,1 necumulate,newlrensures
• " _;"1 5Li .
f°1.t.••141.?-ailef..• '‘'IMI• • ,lavPl-11c. world ii:ther on their de-
fPillshe advantage of their descendants, than -
oD llitiletntrance they themselves had found it. Ot
the enental portion of this treasnre no small. part le
stored, and of the continuous horde I have described'
no small part is performed by universities, which
have been, I venture to say, entitled to rank among
the greater • lights and glories of Christendom.
(Applause.) It. is, 1 believe, a fact, and if so it is a
fact highly, instructive and suggestive, that the
university as such is ,a Chrietian institution. The:
Greeks, indeed, had the very largest ideas upon the
trai%ing of man, and. produced specimens of our
kind with gifts than have never been surpassed.
But the nature of man, such as they knew it, was
scarcely at nil developed; nay it-was maimed, in its
supreme rapacity—in its relations. towards God.
iTcnce, as in the visimis of the Prophet, so-upon the
roll of history, the imposing fabrics of ancient tivi-
lisetion never endured. (Applause.) Greece
has bequeathed to usher ever-living tongue and the
immortal- productions of her intellect ; Rome made
ready for Christendom the elements of polity 111-411.,
.buf the brilliant assemblage of endewrnents
which constitutes civilisation, having no root in
itself, could not brook the shocks of time and vicis-
situde-; it came and it-went; it was seen and it Wil.t3
gone—
•

" Rune tantwn terris ostendeut fata; neque ultra
Esse sineut."

We now watch, gentlemen, with a treirnbling hope,
the'course of. that later and Christian civilisation
niiiol arose of
.the ashes of :the old heathen.
vcnrlcl, and ask ourselves whether, like the C -
helEitgelr; lbat• whieli= the Ihr-Tel ht( as -r• •-) lit
byond itself •in the manners arts, -e_nd in-
htitutions of men is in such manner. and.degree
salted with perpetual life that the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it ? Will the civilisation,
which was springing upwards from the- -days of
Charlemagne, and which now; over the 'face of
Europe and America, seems to proscnt to us in be-
wildering conflict the mingled signs of decrepitude
andiof.vigour,Terish like its older types, and like
thew, be known thereafter only in its: fragments;
or does it bear a charmed lire, and will it give shade
froth-the heat and slicdter from the _storm to all
In. any -ans•.ver o such a
generations of man ?
question it would perhaps be. - easier !to say what
q_veived. sou*
„n - 41,13 rhal,•,:srouei •
things we may ohlerve, which 717_1 among-fife
materials cf a replf: The arts of war aronoty scr
allitd with those of peace that barbarism, tinge so
terrible, is' reduced to physical impotence ; and
what civilised man has had the wit to create, be

cox
rti

has also the strength to defend. Thus one grand
destructive agency is. paralysed. Time, indeed, is
the great destioyer—but his power, too, is greatly
neutralised by printing, by commerce, *l'ch lays
the foundations of friendship among nations, by
the ease of communication,,which binds men to-
gether, by that diffusion of intelligence which mul-
tiplies the-natural guardians of civilisation. These
are perhaps not merely isolated phenomena. Per-
' haps they are but witnesses, and but a few among
many witnesses, to the vast flange which has been
wrought since the advent of our Lord in the state
lof man. Perhaps they re-echo to us the truth that,
apart from saund and sure relations to his Maker,
the fitful efforts of mankind must needs be worsted
in the conflict with chance and change; but that,
when:by the dispensation of Christianity the order
of our moral nature was restored, when the rightful
King
throne,h had
then,once
indeed, more
civilisation
leins a t
i_hiso n
have a meaning and a vitality place upon his
might come to
such as had before

been denied it. Then at length it had obtained the
key to all the mysteries of the nature of man, to
all the anomalies of its condition. Then it had
obtained the greund-plan of that nature in all
its fulness, which before had been known only
in remnants or in fragments—fragments of which,
even -as now in the • toppling remains of
some ancient church or castle—the true grandeur
and the ethereal beauty were even the more con-
spicuous because of the surrounding ruins—(ap-
plause)—but fragments still, and fragments only,
until, by the bringing of life and immortality to
light, the parts of our nature were reunited, its har-
mony was re-established, the riddle of life, hereto-
fore unsolved, was at length read as a discipline,
and so obtained its just intefpretation. All that had
before seemed idle conflict, wasted energy, barren
effort, was seen to be but the preparation for a
glorious future ; and death itself, instead of extin-
guishing the last hopes of man, became the means
and the pledge of his perfection. (Applause.)' It
was surely meet that a religious aiming at so much

on our behalf should, in its historical development,
provide an apparatus of subsidiary means for the
attainment of its noble end far beyond what man
in earlier days. had dreamed of. To some of the
particular organs formed in this apparatus for car-
rying man upwards and onwards to the source of
his being, I have already adverted. Read in the
light of these ideas the appearance of the_university
among the great institutions of Christian civilisa-
tion is Et phenomenon of'no common interest. Let

us see whether, itself among the historical results
of Christianity, it does not vindicate its origin, and
repay, so to speak, the debt of its birth, by the ser-
vice that it renders to the gfeat work of human
cultivation. (Applause.) I do not enter into the
question from what source the university etymolo-
gically derives its name. At the very least, it is a
name most aptly symbolising the purpose for which
the thing itself exists. For the work of the uni-
versity as such covers the whole field of know-
ledge, human and divine ; the whole field of time,
in binding together successive generations as they
pass in the prosecution of their common destiny; aid-
ing each to sow its proper seed and to reap its proper
harvest from what has been sown before; storing up
into its own treasure-house the spoils of every new
venture in the domain of mental enterprise, and ever
/binding the present to pay over to the future
an acknowledgment at least of the debt which
for itself it owes the past. If the work of
improvement in human society under Christian in-
fluences be a continuous and progrgssive work, then
we can well conceive why the king's daughter, fore-
shadowed in Holy Writ, has counted the university
among her handmaids. If, apart from what may be
the counsels of Providence as to ultiMate success, it
lay essentially in the nature of Christianity that it
should aim at nothing less than the 'entire regene-
ration of human nature and society, such a concep-
tion as that of the university was surely her appro-
priate ally. Think as we will upon the movement
of man's life and the course of his destiny, there is a
fit association, and a noble and lofty harmony, be.
tween the greatest gift of the Almighty to our race
on the one hand, and the subordinate but momen
t9us ministries of those chief institutions of learn-
ing and education, the business of one among which
has gathered us to-day. (Applause.) The idea of the
university, as we find it historically presented to us
in the middle age, was to methodise, perpetuate, and
apply-all knowledge which existed, and to adopt
and take up unto itself every new branch as it came
successively into existence. These various kinds of
knowledge were applied for the various uses of life,
"such as the time apprehended them. But the great
truth was always held, and always kept in the centre
of the system, that Man himself is the crowning
wonder of creation; that the study of his nature is
the noblest study that the world affords; and that
to his advancement and improvement all undertak-
ings; all professions, all arts, all knowledge, all in-
stitutions are subordinated, as means and instru-
ments to their end. The old and established prin.-
ciple was that the university had its base in the
faculty of arts--s-Universitasfundata est in artibus.
It was not meant by this maxim that the faculty of
arts was to have precedence over all other faculties,
for this honour was naturally and justly accorded
to theology; both, we may suppose, because of the
dignity of its subject-matter, which well may place
it at the head of all human knowledge, and because
it was, so to speak, in possession of the ground, and
in the exercise of very powerful influence, at the
pt riod when the less organised institutions for
teaching began.to develop themselves into tlitir final
form of universities. But the university was founded
in the principle of universal culture, and the name
Arts was -intended to embrace every description of
knowledgethat, rising above mere handicraft, could
contribute to train the mind mid faculiies of man.
To say, then, that the university was founded in
arta. Was to assert the universality of its work. The
:;_-:ertic,n was not less true, nor less far-sighted, be-

cause those who first Made it mRy not have beer

coneicus of its comprehending more than.
ch the studies
of the trivium and quad/iv/um —whi
gram Mar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music, geo-
metry, and astronomy.. This catclogueis indeed a
brietone, as compared with the countless branches
of modern study ; yet within its narrow bounds it
contains in principle, at the least, the philosopby of
speech, the philosophy of. the mind, the mathetua-
tiedl-sciences, pure and mixed, and the fine arts.
It is both more easy and more rational, all,circum-
stances taken into view, to admire the vastness of
the conception of the University, than to wonder
that it was at first but partially unfolded a.,ia ap-
, OA. The 'sincerity, the sagacity, the energy of
we dc-
re
iiurpo.3.o with which the old
}univer6itier,
sigr,ed o:nd organised may be discerned,
as in other
voys, so by the progressive expression of. their-
seudics. The Roman after remaining long
alinost forgotten; becafne known anew to Europe ;.
and, as it grew to be a study, the university pro-
with their faiterualtyptooffelsasNovis.s:
wainxidchwith
those call
pro-
vided
deges, for
rie principalt . .

this , day for •My grateful appreciation. (Cheers.)
. Again, when the final triumph of barbarism-at Con.
stantiuople compelled Greek learning to seek a home
in the west, provision began to be made forthwith in
univo sities for its reception. I; think my distill-.
gniAied brother, if I may presume to call him so
(Profssor'Mansel), could tell us that one of the first
,of it hese foundations was made in tho very college at
(1' fora whioll ho himsol f adorns. (A Pplan'-: ) And
'O-4, ,fi,(l7:,- or wilieh_Greek lemming. is the main and
,
,o-t I,uicro, as well - £1.51- the most arduous part,
n,; {l^ its way under the. well. deserved name of
h ',linen ity, to the very head of the faculty of arts.
Olen in all physical science man, guided; in no
small degree by our own illustrious Bacon, became
tent.(in Bacon's language) to acknowledge him-
pipillie servant and interpreter of nature, and'
't:lli:,-ite the paths of , patient Observation, the
tail was
„laid for that faculty of medicine which
rittained in the University of Edinburgh to a
oetion destined I hope to be as lung 'Nel as it
ithott dou 61extraordinary. (Applf., n,.e.) AVe can
i,I,Y tqxdile et that human institutto u shotrl4'iVith-.
/1014 i of tinto,'retain tlle-ffe.kilile and eia4tie tis.
01 their vont}, ; nuil 11ni-;;r9ities in pqrtieular,
110 Y havg-rown oicl and great, have come to in
e-T
eat many point with the interests and. con-
Y9l that outer world wl-114i has but little syth-
with their proper woilcl
)layed at, this day. an prganrs• or they might have
~ ay. to the present .4.t. a 4. 4
Ili 1 , ation as complete,
knowledge and
„.. 1. i , tT.::i _,O iiit., ~, .

inquiry, as was that which they possessed some
centuries ago. ,The, older history of the universities
Of Europe not only _presents many features of the
utmost interest, but upon the whole. inspires satis-
faction, and challenges praise from the impartial
observer. I might detain you long upon the various
kinds of. good they did, and I might search long
without discovering any characteristic evils to set
down against it. What the castle was to the feudal
baron, what the guild was to the infant middle
class, they were to knowledge and to mental free-
dom, nor was it only that from them local culture
received local shelter, and enjoyed through them an
immunity from the assaults of barbarism in its vici-
nity, they established, so to speak, a telegraph for
the mind ; and all the elements of intellectual cul-
ture scattered throughout Europe were brought by
them into near communion. Without a visible head
or a coercive law, or a perilous tendency to aggres-
sion, they did for the mind of man what the unity
of the Roman Church aimed at doing for his soul.
They did it by the strong sympathy of an inward
life, and by a common interest and impulse, almost
from their nature incapable of being directed to
perverse or dangerous ends. Indeed, it was not in
their nature to supply the materials of any
combination formidable to other social powers act-
ing each in its proper sphere, for they were on
every side watched by jealous interests, and kept at
once in.check and in activity by competition. I he
monasteries for the church, and the legal and medi-
cal professions, with their special establishments of
education, as they were matured in after times,
prevented tin undue ascendancy; while in these
seats alone there was supplied that good preserva-
tion against excess and disorder that human know-
ledge was in them regarded as a whole, and its
various branches had, from this very neighbour-
hood, better dispositions of their proper provinces
and of their mutual relations. In whatever light
we view them, there was a completeness in the idea
and work of universities, in proportion as their
proper development was attained, which may well
excite our wonder, They aimed alike, as we have
seen, at the preservation of all old learning, and at
the appropriation of all new. They bound them-
selves to prosecute alike those studies which fit
men for the professions and the daily needs of life,
and those which terminate upon man himself, whe-
ther by the investigation of truth or by the pursuit
of refinement. They bore, and indeed they still
bear, a character at once conservative and progres-
sive. If not uniformly, yet in general, their influ-
ence tended to mitigate extreme opinions. The
Papal power, for example, knew no more formid-
able curb than the great University of Paris, and
in England it was, the special privilege of Oxford
to rear up many centuries ago very eminent men of
the class who have been well described by a German
writer as Reformers before the Reformation. I
speak now of men of action ; but in both of the
universities I have named—and they are, I think,
the two placed by Huber at the head of all the
northern universities there were also reared
many men of the first order in Ilbwer of thought,
Who discussed, even, the highest subjects with a'
freedom as well as a force much beyond what has
been tolerated in the Latin Church since the alarm
and shock of the Reformation. Of all these, the best
known name to modern ears is Abelard ; for it is
associated with a romantic tale of passion, which some
and even some famous writers have not thought it
beneath them to degrade. But quite apart from the
profound and sad interest and the warning lessons
of his history, he was in= that gave to the human
mind one of those enduring impulses whose effects
remain long after their 'source has been forgotten,
and influence the bourse of thought, and through
Thought of action, after many generations. Univer-
sities were, in, truth, a great mediating power be-
tween the high and the low, between the old and
the new, between speculation and action, between
authority and freedom. Of these last words; in
their application to the political sphere, modern
history, and the experience of our own time, afford
abundant exemplification. -In countries which enjoy
political liberty the universities are usually firm
supportsrof the established order of things ; but in
countries under absolute government they acquire
a bias towards innovation. Some excess may be
noted in these tendencies, but in the main they bear
witness against greater and more pernicious ex-
eesses. To take instances—the University of Edin-
burgh did not very easily accommodate itself to the
Revolution of 1688 ; it was long in the eighteenth
century before Cambridge returned Whig represen-
tatives to Parliament; and I believe the very latest
of the Jacobite risings and riots occurred in Oxford.'
On the other hand, in some continental countries it
has been the practice during the present century,
when the political horizon threatened at once to
close the universities as the probable centres of agi-
tation—a proceeding so strange, according to our
ideas and experience, that the fact may sound hardly
credible ; and within the last few weeks we may all
have seen notices in the public journals of move-
ments in the University of Rome itself adverse to
the Pontifical Government. It is in itself deeply
interesting, and it should augment our thankfulness
-for the ample liberties we now enjoy, to trace them
back to their cradle.. At one time we find nobles,
at another country gentlemen, at another bur-
gesses, engaged in the struggle against arbitrary
power s but nowhere in the ancient history of
this country is more deeply engraven her uncon-
querable love of freedom than in the constitution
and history of her universities. Each of them, as a
brotherhood, bound together by the noble bonds of
learning, was a standing and living protest against
the domination of mere wealth and of force in all
their forms ; and they strengthened themselves for
their conflict by. the freedom of their arrangements,
both of teaching and of discipline.. As respects
teachings I neither define nor dispute the changes
that the altered conditions of modern society may
lieve required; but lethink there is no doubt that in
proportion as we can give a just freedom to teach-
ing, by introducing into it the element of a whole-
, some competition, do we approach more closely to
the primitive spirit and system of universities. As
to discipline, we may read the aversion of our fore-
fethers to all slavish formalism in the personal free-
dom .which has been allowe'T to students—in that
curious distribution of them into nations which ap-
pears to have aimed at a system of self-government
combined with pupilage—in the occasional dangers..
sornetimee for the moment serious enough, to the
public peace—(leud cheers)—which occurred from
time to time—and lastly, let me say in those suf-
frages which have so long been enjoyed in Scotland,
and which have been extended to you by authority
of Parliament. It is indeed a fashion with some to
ridicule that method of disputation which was used
for testing talents and acquirements.' I demur to
the propriety of the proceeding.. It might be as just
to ridicule the clumsiness of their weapons or their
tools. These disputations were clumsy weapons;
but the question after all is, how did the men use
them ; let us eonfess, the defect was more than made
gOod- by the zeal with which in those times learn-
ing was pursued ; their true test is in the capacity
and vigour which they gave to the mind, and this,
trial they can well abide. The sketch which I
likve endeavonted to give, though longer than I
could wish, yet, touching as it does, a subject of
vast and varied interest' is, I admit, both slight
general, and would require mueli adaptation
lel detail to make it (exactly suit each case, But
it is essentially a picture of the past. Jion
nova- progenies ecelo dernittiti* alto. The simple
fOrms into which society was cast at the time when
universities were equal to their work, have given
Plue to a more extended and elaborate organisa-
tion, with greatly multiplied wants ; and the very
ly
csa, at,
tiniaeregtstettitdietaedteiocm,tl.
las
nioi c(alisse toiyti
IkNievt
,hhs
anrboel sdivsuhmeme ace ns ettsisi
eoi
nimeettaernni ssi
jez
ise
of
supp
energy, and
aftolt.:het Una: fur those prizes of talent and
7wpi,,,ohrtwunhiitciici
f
life now abound, have
nbai dl .edlorsnv.n
opportunities of
attainingout er w walks kesveol
to
the modest
Ign
en,
at
nh
ing tone of mind with respect
meats which science, natfic;
oeneorwlll'el
preciecti or 'universities, have (Tied the prevail-
, have disposed the overwhelming
seek for education, to seek it not for
faosls.of those who
but for the sake simply or 'its bearin'ltsoiTtvin sake;
pro-
fessions and pursuits of life. Amidstga warm glow
of , reverence, gratitude, and attachment there is
discontent with the existing universities, and a sense
that they do not perform all their work. Part of
this discontent is exacting and unreasonable; ano-
ther part of it is justified by a comparison of luaus,
which all or sonic of them • possess, with their pee_
formances, and ought to be met, and to be removed,
nut besides the two forms of discontent I have
named, there is a third, which is neither irrational
like the' first, nor yet,seinteliable like the second,
There-Ml.lst always he, especially in the most lumi-
sions and the Mast energetic minds, a senss of dell-,
eieney which we may . properly call discontent in
repeird to the shortcomings of universities when
they are put to the test of measurement beside the
'abstract and lofty standard supplied by their con-
ception, their aim, and their older history. The
truth is that that standard is one which surpasses
human wit to reach, especially in a period
marked, as is' this of ours, by a restless activity
of the huinen spirit For let .us
emembrr that

is the proper work of universities, could, they
'but perform it, while, they guard and cultivate
all ancient truth, to keep themselves in
the foremost rank of modern -discoveiy, to har-
moniEe continually the inherited with the ac-

quired wealth or mankind, and t'ogi;e
a char-
ter to freedom of discussion, while they maintain
the reasonable limits of the domain of tradition and
of authority. The question how far endowments
:for education are to be derived is beset with pecu-
liar difficulty. When they are small and remote
from public observation they tend rapidly to tor-
por. They are admirable where they come in aid
of a good will already existing, but whore the good
will does not exist beforehand they are as likely to
stifle as to stimulate its growth. They make a high
cultivation accessible to the youth who deserves it,
and who could not otherwise attain his worthy and
noble end; on the other hand, they remove the
spur by which Providence neutralises the indolence
of man, and moves him to supply his wants. If the
teacher, when unendowed, may be constrained to
forego all high training for students, and to pro-
vide only for their lower and more immediate de-

mands ;on the other hand, the teacher, when en-
dowed, and in so far as he is endowed, is deprived
of the aid which personal interest and private ne-
cessities can lend to the sense of duty, and he ma 3
be tempted to neglect or to minister but feebly to
the culture of his pupils, either in its higher or in
its lower sense. And it is never to be forgotten
that amidst all the kinds of exertion incident to our
human state, there is none more arduous, none more
exhausting, than the work of teaching worthily
Some Men, indeed, possess in this de-
partment ta princely gift, which operates like a
charm upon the young, and they follow suvh an pne
as soldiers follow their leader when he faxes the
banner of their native land before their eyes.
(Cheers.) But such men are rare; they are not less
rare than are great men in any other work of life.
Speaking generally, the work of teaching is,
even when putsued with the whole heart, even
when felt to be an absorbing work, but moderately
successful ; while he who teaches with half his
keart does not really teach at all. There are,
however, considerations which tell on the other
side. The solidity of establishments founded
on old endowments supplies a basis on
which there are gradually formed a mass of
continuous traditions, always powerful and gene-
rally noble ; and the very name of them, as it is
handed on from generation to generation, becomes
a watchword at once of affectionate remembrances
and of lofty aspirations.. They lay hold of the
young by those properties which are the finest
characteristics of youth ; and in our happy country
the boy, when he is enrolled as a member of one of
these institutions, feels that ho is admitted to a
share in a great inheritance, and instinctively burns
to be worthy of the badge helms assumed. (Cheers.)
Again, in a country like this, which is both free
and wealthy, all endowed establishments are open
to the competition of the unendowed, and few esta-
blishments are as amply endowed as not to leave
much room for the operation on the teacher of those
ordinary motives which prompt him to better his
condition. This remark is, I think, eminently ap-
plicable to the Universities in Scotland. (Cheers.)
It is indeed alleged, and I think with truth, that
the ancient-universities of England, with their mag-
nificent endowments, do net effect so much as they
ought on behalf either of education or of learning ;
but -with the spirit of improvement which now rules
in them, and with the powerful aid which the Le-
gislature has given for the more free and efficacious
, use of their property, I believe that they will both
further enlarge their field and plough it more deeply.
countries. w with those
It
wi
But when all has been done that we can reasonably
hope I believe the result will still seem small when
compared
producedllsti
ll give
in otherrise to times
other
disappoint-
ment ; let it not on that account be concluded that
it would be desirable to strip these great and ancient
foundations of their trappings. The real merits,
the real performances of universities cannot be
fairly judged exceptby fairly measuring the strength
of the competing power, that of the outer world,
in all its busy spheres• The fact that a huuclred
pounds will not bring as much learning in England,
or even in Scotland, as in Germany, is no more con-
clusive of the case than the fact that neither will the
same sum buy as many eggs ; not because eggs are
more scarce, but because money is more abundant. It
may be, though I will not presume to assert posi-
tively it is,that the endowments of learning in our own
pantry do but redress, and that partially, the rela-
tive disadvantages at which, but for them, learning
itself must have been placed by the increased at-
tractions and multiplied openings which the exte-
rior spheres of modern life supply. This, however,
we must all feel, that now is the time when every
student and teacher connected with all these great
and venerable institutions should bestir himself to
refute at least in his own person the charge that an
endowment gravitates towards torpor as its natural
consummation, if we desire in a critical and not un-
kindly age that universities should still enjoy that
• intelligent respect which has been paid them by so
many generations. I have been assuming all along
that all universities are united by a harmonious
bond of common interest and purpose, and I have
therefore discussed them at large. If, however, we
contract our view to' the universities of Seotland—if
yet we bring it nearer home, and look at Edinburgh
alone, we have the consolation of thinking that envy
herself can scarcely charge eitheilthe whole of them,
or this one in partieularr-with an abuse of wealth.
(Laughter and cheers.) In the history of the Uni-
versity of Edinburgh we may clearly trace the na-
tional character of Seotland--(cheers)—we find
there all that hardy energy, that gift of extracting
much from little—(laughter and cheers)—of hus•
banding every available provision-of supplying
the defect of external means and appliances within
their walls by the augmented effort and courage of
man, we find that power to make an iingenial cli-
mate smile, and a hungy soil teem with all the
bounties of. Providence, which have given to Scot-
land a name and a place among men so far beyond
what were due to her geographical extent or to her
natural resources. (Applause.) But the progress of
this university during: the last century—l strive to
speak impartially—is truly wonderful ; from the
days of Carstairs, Pitcairn, Monro; and Sibbald, at
its, beginning, to those of Brown and Stewart, of
nebeetson and Blair, of Cullen, the second Munro,
of Black, of I?layfaireof Robertson, and of Sir Wm.
imilton —(eheers)—and many others both b. fore
and since its close. But, gentlemen, it would be most
unjust in any review of: the fortunes of this uni
versify not to notice that great peculiarity in its
condition—its subjection to the local municipal au•
thorities. (Loud hisses and some laughter.)', I speak.
gentlemen, of what history tells. (Loud cheers.) 1
have stated that it is the business of universities to

give a charter to freedom of discussion—(laughter)
—and I am sum, you will allow me to say whst,
without. prejudice, is the impression that a perusal
of the ancient history of Edinburgh, in the days of
her poverty and weakness, could in general look
no- further and no higher than to the council of the
good town- itself. (Laughter and cheers.) That
relation, which was originally.intended for a great
secondary school, survived that stage of the career
of the institution, and continued to influence its
affairri=evhen it was to all intents and purposes a
university; and I must say. that the history,ef this
relation-appears to me to have been hOneurable to
all parties concerned:-" (Loud cheers.) On the side
of the teaching body we commonly find deference
and trust. On the side of the superintendingeor-
peration in generations-gone by—for the present is
not within the sphere of my discussion (loud cheers)
we find patronage effectively and intelligently
exercised—(cheers)--and the most assiduous and
friendly care bestowed in improving and enlarging
the organisation, so that it will indeed be easier for
the Town Council of our own day, in the discharge
of the important share of governing duties that arc
still lodged in its hands, to fall below • than to rise
above the level of those who preceded it in the-cri-
tical times that preceded and followed the Legisla-
tive Union. And now, my younger friends--;-you
to whom I owe the distinction • of the office which
enables and requires me to address you, if I have
dwelt thus at length upon the character and scope
of universities and their place in the scheme of Chris-
fiats civilisation, it is in order that, setting before
you the dignity that belongs to them, and that is
reflected on their members, and the_greatopportu-
nities which they Offer both -of advancement and
of improvement, .1 might chiefly suggest and im-
press by facts, Which- May be more eloquent than
precepts, the responsibilities that arc laid upon you
by • the. enjoyment of these gifts and blessings.
Much, however, Might be said to you on the acqui-
sition of the knowledge which wilt be 'directly ser-
vie:,uble to-you iu your several professions—much
on the immense value of that kind of training in
which the subjects learned have for their chief aim
not to inure the hand (so to speak) to the use of its
tools in some particular art, but to operate on the
mind itself, and, by making it flexible, manifold,
and strong, to endow it with a genial aptitude for
the duties and exigenoi6 of life,--,-,mrtch, lastly, on
the frame of mind in which you should pursue your
work. Of these thre,-1 branches the topics belong-
ing to the first are the must obVious and simple,-for
it reqnires no argument to persuade the workman
that he must be duly furnished with his tools and
tmi,,t know how to use them. The reasons are
less dirctily palpable. which have made it the
habit of our • country to . spend, where means
permit, many precious years. upon studies
void in a great den Tee of immediate bearing
mity, ; are mere
upon the intended occupations of our after 'life.
There may, however, be 'the means of showing first,
that even the direct uses of the'studies which you
include . under the' general designation of
Fli
.c.onsidero,ble, when they are
colleCied into One view, than might have been.tatp-

posed ; and, secondly, that the most distinguished
professional men bear witness with an overwhelm-
ing authority in favour of a course of education in
which to train the mind shall be the first object,
and to stock it the second. Man i§ to be trained
chiefly by study and by knowing man ; and we are
prepared for knowing man in life by learning him
first in books, much as we are taught to draw from
drawings before we draw from nature. But if man
is to be studied in books, he will best be studied in
such books as present him to us in the largest,
strongest, simplest--in a word, the most typical
forms. These forms are principally found among
the ancients. Nor can the study of the ancients be
disassociated from the study of their languages.
There is a profound relation between thought and
the investiture which it chooses for itself; and it is
as a general rule most true that we cannot know
Bien or nations unless we know their tongue.
Diversity of langnage was, like labour, a temporal
penalty inflicted on our race for sin ; but, bein&
like labour originally penal, like labour it becomes
by the ordinance of God a fertile source of blessing
to those who use it aright. It is the instrument of
thought, but it is not a blind or dead instrument ;
it is like the works in metal that Daedalus and
Vulcan were fabled to produce ; and even as the
limping deity was supported in his walk by his
nymphs of so called brass, in like manner language
reacts upon and bears up the thoughts from which
it springs, and comes to take rank among the most
effective powers for the discipline of the mind.
But more important than the quest of professional
knowledge, more vital than the most effective in-
tellectual training, is the remaining question of the
temper and aim with which the youth prosecutes
his work.. It is-my-privilege to be the first person
who has ever thus addressed you in the capacity of
Rector. But without doubt your ears have Caught
the echo of those affectionate and weighty counsels
which the most eminent men of the age have not
thought it beneath them to address to the students
of a sister Scottish university. Let me remind
you how one of European fame, who is now
your and my academical superior—how the great
jurist, orator, philosopher, and legislator who is
our Chancellor—(cheers)—how Lord Brougham be-
sought the youth of Glasgow, as I in his words
would more feebly, but not less earnestly, pray you
" to believe how incomparably the present season 'is
verily and indeed the most precious of your whole
lives," and how " every hour you squander here
will," in other days, " rise up against you and be
paid for by years of bitter but unavailing regrets!'
Let me recal to you how another Lord Rector of
Glasgow, whose strong sagacity, vast range of ex-
perience, and energy of will were not one whit more
eminent than the tenderness of his conscience, and

his ever-watchful and wearing sense of public duty
me recal to you how Sir Robert Peel—(cheers)
—choosing from his quiver with a congenial fore•
thought that shaft which was, most likely to strike
home, averred before the same academic audience
what may as safely be declared to you, that `4 there
is a presumption amounting almost to certainty that
if any one of you will determine to be eminent in
whatever profesSion you may choose, and will act
with unvarying steadiness in pursuance of that de-
termination, you will, if health and strength be
given to you, infallibly succeed." The mountain
tops of Scotland behold on every side of them the
witness, and many a one of what were once her
morasses and her moorlands, now blossoming'as the
rose, carries on its face the proof that it is in man
and not in his circumstances that the secret of his
destiny resides. For most of you that destiny will
take its final bent towards evil or towards good,
not from the information you imbibe, but from the
habits of mind, thought, and life that you shall ac-
quire during your academical career. Could you with
the bodily eye see the moments of it as they fly, you
would see them all pass by you, as the bee that has
rifled the heather bears its honey through the air,
charged with the promise, or it may be the menace of
the future. In many things it is wise to believe before
experience until you can know, and in order that
you may know ; and believe me when I tell you
that the thrift of time will repay you in after
life with an usury of profit beyond your
most sanguine dreams, and that the waste of it will
make you dwindle, alike in intellectual and in mo-
ral stature, beyond your darkest reckonings. lam
Scotchman enough to know that anfong you there
are always many who are already, even in their ten-
der years, fighting with a mature and manful cou-
rage the battle of life.. (Cheers.) When they feel
themselves lonely amidst the crowd, when they are-
for a moment disheartened by that difficulty which
is the rude .rocking-cradle of every kind of excel-
knee—when they are conscious of the pinch of po-
verty and self-denial, let them be conscious, too,
that a sleepless eye is watching them from above,
that their honest efforts are assisted, their humble
prayers are heard, and all things are working toge-
ther for their good.. Is not this the life of faith,
which walks by your side from your risinr, in the
morning to your-lying down at-night—which lights
up for you the cheerless world, and transfigures all
that you encounter, whatever be its outward form,
with huessbrought down from heaven ? These con-
siderations are applicable to all of you. You are all
in training here for educated life, for the. higher
forms of mental experience, for circles, limited,per-
haps, but yet circles of social influence and leader-
ship. Some of you may be chosen to greater distin-
. tions and heavier trials, and may enter into that
class of which each member while he lives is envied
and admired—
" And when ho dies lie bears a lofty name,
A light, a landmark, on the cliffs of fame."
(Cheers.) And, gentlemen, the hope of an enduring
fame is without doubt a powerful incentive to vir-
tuous action, anciyoumay sufferit to float before you
as a vision of refreshment,, second always and second:
with long interval to your conscience and the will
of God. For an enduring fame is one stamped by the
judgment of the future, that future which dispels
illusions and smashes idols into dust. Little of
what is criminal, little of what is idle, can endure
even the first touch of the ordeal; it seems as
though this purging power, following at the heels
of man and trying his work, were a witness
and a -harbinger of the great and final account.
So then the thirst of an enduring fame is near akin
to the love of true: excellence. But the fame Of the
moment is a dangerous possession and a bastard
motive; and he who does his acts. in order that the
echo of them may come back as a soft music in his
ears, lays false to- his noble destiny as a Christian
man.,Thla.ces himself in continued danger of chillying
with wrong, and taints even his virtuous actions at
their source.. Not the sublime words alone of the
Son of God and His apostles, Mit heathenism, too,
even while its vision is limited to this passing scene,
testifies with an. hundred tongues that the passing
scene, itself presents to us virtue as an object, and
a moral law, graven deeply in our whole nature as-
a guide. (Applause.) But now, when the screens
that so bounded hnman vision have been removed,
it were sad indaed,.and not mote*Sid and shameful,
if that being should be- content to live for the
opinion of tile moment who has immortality for his
inheritance. He that never dies, can he not afford
to wait patiently a while ? And can lie not let
faith, which interprets thupresent, also guarantee
the future ? Nor are thereUny two habits of mind
more distinct than that which chooses success for

its aim and covets after popularity, and that, on the
other hand, whichvalues and defers to the judg-
ments of our fellOw-rnen, as helps in the attainment
of truth. But I would not confound with the sor-
did worship of popularity in after life, the graceful
and instinctive love of praise in the uncritical pe-
riod of youth. 'On the contrary, I say, avail your-
selves of that stimulus to good deeds, and when it

proceeds from worthy sources and lights upon
worthy conduet,„yield yourselves to the warm satis-
faction it inspires.; but-yet, even while young, and
even amidst the glow or that delight, keep a vigi-
lant eye upon yourselves, refer the honour to Him
from whom all honobr comes, and ever be in-
wardly ashamed for • not being worthier of His
gifts. lint, gentlemen, if 'you let. yourselves en-
joy the praise of your teachers, let me beseech
you to repay their care, and to help their ardu-
ous work, by entering into it with them, and
showingothat -you meet their exertions neither
with a churlish mistrust, nor with a passive
indifference, 'but with free and ready gratitude.
(Cheers.) Rely -upon it they require your sym-
pathy ; and They require it more in proportion as
they are worthy. of their work. The faithful and
able teacher, says an
,old adage, is in loco pqrentis.
His charge eertainly.resembles the mother's care in
this, that if he be devoted to his task you can mea-
sure what is the cost to him of the efforts which he
makes, and the debt of gratitudcyou owe him. The
great poet of Italy—the profound and lofty Dante
—hail had for an instructor one whom, for a mise-
rable vice, his poems places in the regions of the
damned ; and yet this lord of song—this prophet
of all the knowledge of his time—this master of
every gift that can adorn the human mind—when
in those dreary regions he sees the known image of
his tutor, avows. in language of a magnificence all
his own thh he cannot even now withhold his sym-
pathy and his sorrow from his unhappy teacher,
toe he recollects how, in the upper world, with a
father's tender care, that teacher had pointed to him
the way by which.. man becomes immortal. Gen-
tlemen, I have detained you long. (Applause.) Per-
haps I have not had time. to be. brief;. certainly I
could havo7wished -for-much larger opportunities of
maturing and verifying what I have addressed to
you upon subjects which have always possessed a
hold on my, heart, and have long had public and
palpable claims on my attention. Suck as I have I
give. (Applause.) And now finally in bidding
you farewell, let me invoke every bleSsing upon
your venerable university in its new career • upon
g
the, youth .by: whom itS halls are laddeneCl, and
Ida and'able teachers by
upon the distinguished