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AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE SOCIETY OF ALUMNI(CB0049), OF THE University of Virginia(CB0001), AT ITS ANNUAL MEETING, HELD IN THE PUBLIC HALL(PL9107), JUNE 29, 1853. BY JAMES P. HOLCOMBE(P43718). PUBLISHED BY ORDER OF THE SOCIETY. RICHMOND(PL5273), MACFARLANE & FERGUSSON(CB1046), PRINTERS, 1853.

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CORRESPONDENCE.

University of Va.(PL4214)
, 29th June, 1853.

JAMES P. HOLCOMBE, ESQ.(P43718)

Dear Sir;—The Society of Alumni of the University of Virginia(CB0049) have imposed upon me, as their Secretary, the very pleasing duty of requesting of you, for publication, a copy of the eloquent and able address which you this day delivered before them.

In performing this duty, allow me, Sir, to add the assurance of my own high appreciation of its merits, and to express for myself as well as for the Society, the confident hope that you will not permit any engagement to prevent you from furnishing us with a copy of the address.

Believe me, Sir, with assurance of high regard, Your obedient servant,

N. H. MASSIE(P43729).

Charlottesville(PL4204)
, July 1st, 1853.

N. H. MASSIE, ESQ.(P43729)

Dear Sir:—In compliance with the request of the Society of Alumni(CB0049), I transmit you a copy of my address delivered before them on the 29th, for publication. A strong conviction of its many sins of omission and commission, warns me to withhold it, but this and all other personal considerations have yielded to my earnest desire to promote those great interests which it aims to uphold.

Permit me to express my obligations for the very kind manner in which you have communicated the wishes of the Society, and to assure you of the high regard with which I remain,

Your obedient servant,

JAMES P. HOLCOMBE(P43718). N. H. MASSIE, ESQ.(), Cor. Sec'ry of the Society of Alumni.

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ADDRESS.

Mr. President, and Gentlemen of the Society of Alumni(CB0049);

The social and festive purposes of this day do not exhaust the ends for which it was set apart. We have assembled from every quarter of the commonwealth(PL4507), upon this spot, not only to weave anew the scattered and broken threads of early friendships, but to catch from communion with the genius of the place, a glow of that lettered enthusiasm, which once warmed our bosoms. This society was founded upon a recognition of the duties and responsibilities growing out of that priesthood of letters, to which we have been consecrated by the ordaining hand of knowledge. It clothes us, a brotherhood of scholars, in the very livery of learning: it introduces us, by visible badges of fellowship, into communion with her grand catholic body; it associates us, in bonds of kindred sympathies, with her universal fortunes; it keeps fresh in recollection her claims upon our reverential love; and it commits us, as by a public sacrament, to bring to every exigency of her service, the blended lights of mutual experience, and the collected strength of united influence.

The Society, in entire harmony with this conception of its character and objects, has expressed a wish for the selection of some topic of discourse, by the annual orator, connected with the cause of letters. Fully acknowledging the appropriateness of such a theme to the occasion, I lament the extent to which professional pursuits have disqualified me for its satisfactory treatment. Where the mind has been long occupied with uncongenial studies, the original inclinations of taste must yield to the force of habit, for "Our nature is subdued To that it works in, like the dyer's hand."

It is the part of wisdom in the speaker, under such circumstances, to look around for a subject, which by reason of its na

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tive interest and importance, can dispense with the borrowed charms of rhetoric. It has occurred to me that a discussion of the general scope and functions of a University(CB1047), pointed with a specific application to the condition and wants of our Alma Mater(CB0001), and the bearing of the latter upon the glory of our Southern country, and the perpetuity of its institutions, would possess a mute eloquence of its own, which in your willing years at least, might fill out the faltering accents of the orator. I do not design by this suggestion to impute any narrow or sectional charity to a body of scholars. I know that the spirit of learning is too expansive, to be confined within any pent-up locality; that it worships in a metropolitan temple; and that it will allow no repose to its energies, so long as any outlying region of darkness, however remote, shall skirt with shadow the empire of light. But without reversing the universal constitution of human nature, we cannot contemplate with equal emotion all the objects which claim our solicitude and regard. No circle of human interests can be traced, so comprehensive, that the sympathies of the scholar will not run out along all its lines, and embrace its utmost circumference; but it is only around the hearths and altars of home, that they glow with the heat of central fires.

I invite you then to a consideration of the true ends of a great University(CB1047), of the means possessed by our Alma Mater(CB0001) to realize them, and of the best modes of supplying any deficiencies which may be found to exist in her scheme of studies and facilities for instruction. The practical results I have in view can only be accomplished through the action of the Board of Visitors(CB0042), but I know of no method more likely to induce that action than to secure your co-operation. This Society(CB0049), from its numbers, intelligence and diffusion over every part of the State(PL4507), is rapidly becoming an exponent of public sentiment. So competent is it to the investigation of any question connected with the interests of the University(CB1047), such moral weight must attach to its conclusions, that its deliberately recorded opinion may be regarded as an expression of public will, which sooner or later must clothe itself in the form of law. I speak then under the cheering conviction, that the seed which I now sow in weakness, although it may long germinate in silence and darkness, will be finally raised by you, in power.

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Before proceeding to a discussion of the topics, which will constitute the burden of this discourse, permit me to exchange felicitations with you(CB0049) upon the happy auspices of this meeting; upon the enlarged accommodations of the University(CB0001); upon the increased measure of public patronage which it now enjoys, and the unmistakeable evidences of wide and growing popularity which surround us. All the elements of permanent public favour are at its command. In England() or on the continent of Europe(PL8625), and in many of our American(PL8624) colleges, students are attracted by the reputation of professors who have little more than a nominal connection with the institutions which are supported by their fame. The peculiar organization of the University renders it impossible for any of her professors, thus to evade his duties, or shift his responsibilities. No Castle of Indolence is embowered amid our academic shades to court the feet of lettered Sybarites, with its promises of repose. His portion of work is duly meted out to each teacher, (nor is the tale a light one) and it can be neglected only in the presence of the public and with the eye of that great Task-master on him. It is not surprising, that under these circumstances, the several chairs are filled with a laborious diligence, (it might not become me to say more,) which places the fidelity of the incumbents, not only beyond question, but above suspicion. Looking then at the various phases in the history of the University(CB0001), as well as at it its present condition, at the order, temperance and industry which have prevailed amongst the body of its students(CB0865), at their large and increasing numbers, at the additions which have been already made to its course of study and staff of instruction, nothing seems wanting to secure for it a splendid and unbroken career of usefulness, but a wise internal administration and a generous public support.

A University(CB1047), in the most limited signification which is ever attached to the term, is the last and crowning appliance, in a graduated scale of the means of instruction. Throwing out of view all consideration of its character as a collection of professional schools, its functions are literary as well as educational. If I have comprehended them aright, they may be reduced to these four; first, to furnish a constantly increasing body of young men, taken from the mass of society, with that degree of gen

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eral culture which we denominate a liberal education; second, by superadding extended instruction in special departments, to serve the more important purposes of a Normal school, and thus to supply the State with a thoroughly educated and efficient corps of teachers; third, to provide such libraries, apparatus and collections as will afford to every class of students, the undergraduate, the professor, and the man of letters and science, all the means and facilities for original research: fourth, by the combined operation of these influences, to raise up a learned class, to stimulate the progress of inventive art and scientific discovery, to quicken into life and feed with perpetual aliment the creative spirit of a national literature. This circle of ends, if it does not exhaust the objects of a great University, is sufficiently comprehensive for our present purposes. So intimate is their connexion, so constant their action and reaction, that a University which is not in itself, or by means of kindred and supplementary institutions, equal to the discharge of all of these functions, will be found in time incompetent to the perfect performance of any of them. An institution which aims at nothing more than to satisfy the actual wants of the undergraduate student, will soon sink below that level. Non progredi est regredi, is a maxim, universal in its application to the life of learning. Unless the teachers of a University are provided with opportunities and inducements to the highest intellectual culture, they must fall behind the growing requirements of the age, and bring into public contempt the vocation of the scholar.

The primary purpose of a University(CB1047) is to dispense a liberal education to all its students. The multiplication of arts, and extension of the different branches of knowledge have rendered it impracticable for any individual scholar, although possessed of the abilities of Admirable Crichton(P48072), and endowed with the term of an antediluvian life, to realize Milton's(P48069) grand conception of a generous education by fitting himself to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously all the offices both of peace and war; a complete and finished excellence to which no man ever approached more closely than Milton himself. But no University(CB1047) should pitch its conception of the sum of instruction, to be distributed through the aggregate of its schools, at any lower standard than will ensure the performance by the collective body of

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its alumni, of all offices either of ornament or necessity to the commonwealth. The object of our present inquiry is, however, to determine the elements of a liberal as distinguished from a servile or mechanical education. The solution of this problem requires us to look both to the mode and the subjects of study. The acquisition of knowledge does not constitute the exclusive, or even the primary purpose of academic culture. The young man is not the best educated who leaves college in possession of the greatest amount of acquired information, but he who by the discipline of appropriate studies, has most completely awakened his moral and æsthetic sensibilities, cultivated his taste, and developed and invigorated the whole circle of his intellectual faculties. The number of facts and ideas which have been accumulated is not so much to be regarded as the degree of mental activity which has been excited in the course of their acquisition, and the evolution and perfection of the various capacities of our nature which has thereby been attained.* The art of education consists in selecting those branches of learning, and imparting them to the youthful mind in that manner which will be most likely to secure at once the highest degree of mental discipline, and the largest amount of useful knowledge. It is the combination of a judicious method with a judicious scheme of study. The importance of a wise eclecticism in the selection of the subjects of collegiate study, is apparent from the double consideration, that it is not the purpose of education to impart encyclopedic knowledge, and that if so visionary an enterprise was essayed, the ever-growing accumulations of human learning would render it impracticable. The Latin and Greek languages, and the science of mathematics, come recommended to us by all experience, signed and countersigned, as it were, by the testimony of ages, as the basis of every system of liberal culture. They furnish a grateful vicissitude of genial and severe studies, exactly fitted to answer Aristotle's(P48070) definition of education, as a system of training which should prepare us to pursue business honourably, and to enjoy leisure creditably. Whilst the one awakens the sensibilities, refines the taste, enlarges the conception, enriches the memory, and invigorates the power of moral judgment, the *

This idea is most ably developed by Sir William Hamilton(P48073) in his discussions on Education.

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other, by a course of mental gymnastics, as rigid as it is perfect, developes to the utmost the great faculties of attention, analysis, and generalization. The one cannot supply the place of the other, but under a system which combines both, all the powers and emotions of our moral and intellectual nature may be so touched, quickened, directed, exercised, and informed, as to attain their largest measure of capacity. There is no disposition in our country to depreciate the importance of mathematical culture in a scheme of instruction. The material civilization which we so highly value, lies along the line of mathematical and scientific pursuits, and they will no doubt always absorb a full share of any intellectual activity which may exist. We are much more likely to have occasion for the admonition of Goethe(P48071)— Let us encourage the beautiful, the useful will take care of itself. The utility of classical learning is not so easily made apparent to popular comprehension. No scholar, however, can doubt that it must always form an indispensable element of liberal culture; not only by reason of its intrinsic excellence, but by virtue of the relation which it sustains to the languages and literature of modern Europe(PL8625). No mere English scholar can ever fully comprehend the great poets and essayists of his own tongue. He will be like Æneas(), on receiving from his mother the divine shield on which Vulcan() had carved, in mysterious imagery, the future glories of his race, "dona parentis, Miratur, rerumque ignarus, imagine gaudet." Indeed, it may be said of all modern literature, that unless read in the light of antiquity, it becomes an unintelligible hieroglyph. In the elevated regions of Thibet(PL9415) and Cashmere(PL9416), there is a great table land, a central plateau which ingenious philosophers have supposed to be the cradle of the human race. They have been led to this conclusion, not only by the balminess of the climate and the fertility of the soil, but by its peculiar topographical formation, sloping on all sides towards every point of the compass, and thus feeding from opposite sources an extensive system of rivers, which connect it with all the oceans and regions of the earth. If we could suppose the continuity of human knowledge to be interrupted, and even the traditional evi

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dence of our obligations to antiquity destroyed, the scholar, by a far more satisfactory course of reasoning, might gather up the broken links of history and forge an adamantine chain, to bind anew the ages of civilization. On discovering that ancient literature points to whatever is most beautiful and comprehensive in the expression of modern mind, as an expansion of rudimental germs contained within its own bosom, he would be led by the existence of relations so universal to refer the civilization of modern Europe(PL8625) to that of antiquity as its well-head.

The Alumni of a University are not the only men who are profited by the education which it imparts. Much of the benefit is enjoyed by those, upon whom it has not been directly conferred. Campbell() has shown in one of his finest pieces of criticism, how largely the poet, without being a man of erudition, may be indebted to the learning and philosophy of his age, and that many of the most precious gems scattered through the pages of Shakspeare(P48074), might have been lost to the world but for the revival of classical study in England(PL6183). Common schools are not the only instruments of popular education. Books, newspapers, educated men in the different walks of life; are efficient auxiliaries. How great was the influence of the ancient drama on popular taste, sentiment and opinion? How vast that of the modern pulpit? Contrast England() and China(). In no country in the world is a certain degree of education so general as in China(); but for want of a life-giving element of mental activity in her higher classes, the stand-point of civilization has not advanced for centuries. In few Protestant countries is popular ignorance so gross and extensive as in England(). In 1815, one third of her adult population had not been taught to read, and the proportion would not be much less now; yet with how much sound sentiment and just opinion have the spirit and culture of her more favoured classes penetrated and imbued the masses of her people.

The presence in any community of a thoroughly educated citizen, mingling in the business of active life, and bringing to its pursuits the knowledge and wisdom derived from recluse studies, is equal in value to a public school. Wherever he goes he carries with him a floating atmosphere of knowledge. The pages of Boswell(P48075) still attest how fruitful conversation may be made of delight and instruction. Who amongst us would

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not have exchanged the reading of many volumes, for that half hour's accidental conversation with Burke(P48076) under the arch of a gateway, during a shower of rain, which Dr. Johnson(P48077) tells us was sufficient to convince any one, that he had met with the greatest man in England(PL6183)? Who of his contemporaries exercised more influence upon the opinions of their age by writing than Coleridge(P48078) did by conversation? When, therefore, a University sends a man of learning into society, it confers a public, and not merely a personal blessing. Knowledge is incapable of selfish appropriation. Like its great material symbol, the very law of its existence is to shine.

The second function of the University(CB1047) is to raise up a body of erudite teachers by means of the facilities it affords for exact and extensive culture. Teaching is a distinct profession, and like Law, Medicine, and Theology, must be pursued as an end in itself, and cultivated as an independent subject of study. These views have led to the establishment of Normal schools, both in Europe(PL8625) and the United States(PL8624), for the special instruction of teachers. It would seem as necessary to constitute a complete University, that it should be provided with this department as with the faculties of Law and Medicine. It is by virtue of this function that the University sustains its most important relations to popular education. No delusion could be more mischievous than one which overlooking the natural alliance and reciprocal dependence of the University and the common school, should place their interests in antagonism. Whatever efficiency and value the common school possesses, it owes to the University from which it receives a supply of teachers. The prosperity of the University, and the thoroughness of its instruction, will be found an unerring index of the dignity and importance attached to the mission of the teacher. Indeed no system of popular education could perpetuate itself without a parallel course of liberal and extended culture. The very idea of popular education is to communicate to the masses as much as they can receive of the knowledge of the few. Knowledge is diffused in expanding circles, whose lines become fainter as they recede from the point of original impulse, and unless that impulse is perpetually renewed, will finally become indistinct. If I may be permitted to change the figure, to the University is assigned,

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in the economy of education, the double functions of the two great organs of the human body; it must not only propel the warm and sustaining stream of knowledge to the most distant extremities of the social system, but must recruit its languid force and feed its wasted channels with a perpetual supply of fresh life.

The third function of the University(CB1047) is to provide such libraries, apparatus and collections as will furnish every class of students with the means of original research. As these facilities are not intended simply for the undergraduate, they are not to be measured by the extent of his wants. I shall not maintain that in a community like our own, where so many objects of public importance call for the application of the public resources, we should attempt to build up a vast library, such as can be found now only in Europe(PL8625). I admit that those magnificent collections are crowded with volumes on subjects wholly obsolete, such as ancient medicine, alchemy, astrology, scholastic divinity and canon law; that they realize Milton's(P48069) description of the Fathers, whatsoever either time or the heedless hand of blind chance has drawn down to this present, whether fish or sea weed, shells or shrubs, unpicked, unchosen. I would freely exchange all the particles of gold to be found amid the barren sands of medieval literature for a lost book of Tacitus(P48079) or Pliny() . But the more nearly we approach these vast Pantheons of learning, the most splendid and durable monuments of the civilization of the old world, the larger will be the number of scholars attracted to our halls, the greater and more diffusive the spirit of literary ambition and activity excited amongst our people. The possession of a noble library is a standing attraction to a University(CB1047). Indeed such a library may be regarded as in itself a University. The voice of living instruction might be mute, but the dead would still utter their noblest thoughts, their richest learning, their profoundest speculation. This embodiment and perpetuation of the wisdom and sentiment of all ages, in the library, recalls that fine passage from Milton's(P48069) description of creation; "Of light, by far the greater part he took, Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed In the sun's orb, made porous to receive And drink the liquid light firm to retain

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Her gathered beams, great palace now of light, Hither, as to their fountain, other stars, Repairing, in their golden urns draw light."

It would be a fit subject of public congratulation if our law givers, guided by that providence of the future, which is the essence of all true statemanship, and by an enlightened estimate of the uses of books, could be inspired with something of that passion for their accumulation which prevailed during the middle ages; a period when princes were known to anticipate their revenue for the purpose of saving a fragment of antiquity from destruction, and when the discovery of a manuscript was deemed equivalent in dignity and importance to the conquest of a kingdom. All must admit that the minimum of acquisition, with which the authorities of any University(CB1047) ought to be satisfied, should be such a number of volumes, and extent of apparatus, as will enable its teachers to keep pace with the progress of thought and investigation in their respective departments, so as to protect the student from the errors of the past, and inform him of the latest results of modern inquiry.

The fourth and last function of the University(CB1047) is, by the complex, as it were, of these influences, to raise up a learned class, to keep alive the intellectual activity of a people, to quicken invention, to extend the boundaries of knowledge, to create and nourish a native literature. Nothing contributes more to the progress of civilization in a community than the existence in its bosom of a class of men devoted exclusively to the pursuits of letters. It is only through the medium of such a body, that the great truths which are the results of learned research can be communicated to the masses of the people. The general level of popular intelligence will remain stationary, unless it is constantly supplied from the overflowing knowledge of a learned class. No learning can be sound which is not derived from the highest culture. The wiser therefore the few of one generation, the wiser will be the multitude of the next. A learned class is as necessary for the creation as the diffusion of learning. "They feed the spring heads," says Professor Vaughan(), "by which the main sea of the world's knowledge is deepened." They make it the business of life to elucidate the unsettled points of history, science and speculation, and thus enlarge by their con

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tributions the progressive mass of human knowledge. This task can be successfully accomplished only amid the mutually reflected light of a great University. It would, for example, have been impossible for the Cosmos of Humboldt(), drawing as it does upon universal literature and universal science, to have been produced any where else than at a great centre of learning. It was an apothegm of Bacon() that from one truth all other truths might be inferred. There is certainly such a nexus or mutual dependence subsisting between the different branches of learning, each belonging to all and all belonging to each, that they must be brought into close affinity, before it is possible fully to appreciate the spirit, or exactly define the boundaries of any one. This unity of truth which has been demonstrated by modern research, was prefigured by the prophetic fancy of antiquity in its representation of the Muses() dancing in chorus.

A learned class only can furnish the authors to create and sustain a national literature. No nation can retain its character in the scale of history without a distinct and original literature, The literature which would express the spirit or supply the wants of a people, must not be filtered through the strata of a foreign society, but draw fresh from the wells of the native soil. Noble sentiments, beautiful imagery, profound thoughts, lives of heroism or beauty, speak to us from what region or in what tone they may, must always inform, delight and elevate the soul. But when embodied in a foreign language, and tinctured with the colours of a social and political atmosphere remote from our own, they do not possess the power that belongs to a literature which can thrill the heart with the echoes of its mother tongue, I fully subscribe to the remark, made by one of Virginia's() most gifted sons, whose taste, learning and genius would have placed him, but for an untimely death, by the side of Legaré(),* that the practical loss to mankind, if arithmetic was reduced to counting on the fingers, would be less, than if the department of fancy was blotted out of our libraries; for practical to all intents and purposes must that knowledge be, which raises or keeps alive any feeling touched to fine issues." Yes, sir, far beyond the horison of a sense-bound existence, in the sacred regions of poe*

I refer to the late Jesse B. Harrison().

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try and philosophy, lie those eternal springs which alone can keep fresh and warm the inner life of a people. A literature which draws its aliment from the materials that surround their daily walk, which embellishes with its forms of grace and images of beauty their world of home, which takes up the gross body of popular sentiment and opinion, and by the transfiguring power of genius, converts its muddy vesture of decay into a luminous mantle of immortality, such a literature must be fruitful of results upon the character and destiny of a people. It cannot but infuse into their bosoms such a sense of the dignity of human nature, and the true ends of human life, as will either work its way through all difficulties to freedom and civilization, or invest the adverse fortunes of the nation with a glory which, like the beauty of Juliet, shall make the grave itself a feasting presence, bright with light.

It is impossible to determine the elements which must conspire to form a national literature, with the exactness of a scientific problem. It bloweth where it listeth, and none can tell whence it cometh, or whither it goeth. It is a mystery which speculation has not yet solved to the satisfaction of scholars, why it should have put forth so early and transitory a bloom in Italy(PL8622); why it should have ripened so late in Scotland(PL8669) and Germany(PL4689); why in England(PL6183) alone, it should endure no vicissitude of seasons, but smile in eternal spring. We may, however, be assured that a people to whom Providence has given a stirring history, a land abounding in landscapes of beauty and grandeur, and a high degree of mental activity, cannot long remain destitute of a national literature, without some grievous fault of their own. Let knowledge be diffused amongst all classes—let the vocations of agriculture and commerce, as well as the professions of Law; Medicine and Theology, be filled with educated men—let a corps of accomplished teachers and a learned class be brought into existence, and ere long some genial May of letters shall call forth from the torpid ground of national sentiment and tradition its sleeping fragrance.

If I have not unduly magnified the functions of a University(CB1047) it must be apparent that it is a necessity of modern civilization, essential alike to the spread of popular education, the growth of a native literature, and the prosperity of those enduring and uni

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versal interests which hang upon the fortunes of letters. The order marked out for the development of my subject, brings me to an application of the principles which have been discussed, to our own University(CB0001). I have not undertaken this delicate and difficult task, without the most deliberate survey of the ground, and the most diligent exercise of all the opportunities in my power for conference, observation, and research bearing upon the subject. This examination has forced me to believe, that the University as at present organized, is, notwithstanding its apparent prosperity, unequal to some of the most important ends of a great institution of learning. Entirely satisfied that those, to whose care its interests are committed, if sustained by the cooperating influence of this society, may introduce such changes as will fill up the measure of its usefulness, and thinking that the worst enemies of any institution are its undiscriminating friends, and that the first condition of improvement is the sense of deficiency, I could not suppress my convictions without being false to a sense of public duty. As I have no criticism to offer which is capable of a personal or invidious application, as I have no interest or feeling which is not equally shared by every friend of learning, I am entitled to claim without stint, all the freedom of grave and earnest discussion. But I can indulge no hope of accomplishing any useful result, unless you are prepared to meet me in a congenial temper of liberal inquiry; for from the limits imposed by the occasion itself, the suggestions I shall offer will not, in the language of Burke(P48076), be armed at all points for battle, but simply dressed to visit those who are willing to give peaceful entrance to truth.

The University has been in existence long enough for its history to shed light upon the subject of our inquiry. What so far as we can read them, are the results of its experience, during the quarter of a century in which its halls have been well filled with students? It has supplied the State(PL4507) with a corps of teachers, in every respect superior to those whose place they have taken, and if it has accomplished nothing more, it would have been a noble and productive investment of public money. It has filled the learned professions, and the walks of agriculture and commerce, with a body of Alumni, eminently distinguished for intellectual activity, and scientific and practical attainments.

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It has elevated the general standard of collegiate education, by refusing to accept any short measure of qualification in candidates for its degrees, and thus imparting their original dignity and lustre to the honours of learning. But in literary spirit and culture, in classical taste and enthusiasm, in that love of letters which, when once awakened, fills up all the after years of life, in knowledge of the literature of their native tongue, and ability to speak and write its language with ease, grace and spirit, it seems to me impossible to claim for the graduates of the University(CB0001), that corresponding degree of excellence, which is demanded by its comparative position among sister colleges. It is a proposition almost axiomatic, that a high degree of literary taste and activity can not exist in any community, without finding some form of expression. But with the exception of a few brilliant fugitive essays, mostly scattered through the pages of the Messenger, I can recall no contribution whatever by an Alumnus of the University, purely to literature. Virginia(PL4507) will suffer from a comparison on this point, with the much smaller State of South Carolina(PL4249). I have no means of keeping myself accurately informed of what is doing in South Carolina in the way of literature; but I know that besides supporting several literary journals, including a Quarterly Review, her sons have made valuable contributions during the last twelve months to the drama, to prose fiction, to historical criticism, and to the philosophy of jurisprudence. What have the Alumni of the University accomplished for letters during the same period, or who has caught any note of preparation for the future?

A slight examination of our scheme of studies, will lead, (as I think) to an explanation of this state of facts, by discovering in them a broad want of adaptation to the purposes for which they are chiefly used. The University is adapted to the wants of two classes of young men; of those whose means do not allow them to aim at a complete education, and who are therefore satisfied with facilities for pursuing the more important branches of knowledge; and of those who having finished an ordinary collegiate course, are desirous of prosecuting more elaborately particular departments of learning. According to the prevailing impression, these were the purposes for which it was originally established. In fact, however, the body of our students always

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have been, are now, and always will be drawn immediately from the grammar schools. It can reflect no discredit upon the founders of the University, that it does not answer an end for which it was not ordained, or, regarding the supplementary character it was intended to hold towards other institutions, that it is not provided with all the means of a complete education within its own walls.

The deficiency to which I attribute the results that have been described, is the want of any adequate provision for aesthetic culture. We teach science, mathematics, ethics, criticism and philology; but these constitute only what Lord Bacon(P48080) calls the lumen siccum, or dry light of knowledge. We bring the mind of the student into contact with no body of literature, ancient or modern. And it is literature only, yet warm with the breath of genius, which can kindle the imagination and chasten the taste, elicit the power of expression, enrich the memory with the wisdom and sentiment of past ages, and like a moral divining rod, reveal the fountains of inspiration which are hidden within the depths of our being.

We do indeed provide for the study of the Latin and Greek languages, literature and history, but under the working of our peculiar system many of the most important benefits of classic culture can not be derived from this study. It is obviously impossible that any single teacher, (or with a class of one hundred and fifty students, and two teachers,) in little more than eight months, can have time to unfold the philosophy and laws of these languages with that fullness and accuracy of critical exposition, which is required by the advanced state of philological science, and is essential to their thorough comprehension, and to carry his class concurrently through an extensive course of reading in ancient literature. But to the same professor we commit the great and important department of ancient history, as well as the Hebrew language. In the best Northern colleges, where much less attention is paid to the scientific study of the languages than with us, and certainly not more than it deserves to the literature, one professor and two tutors are allotted to the Latin language, and the same number of teachers to the Greek. As our professor is compelled to compress the whole amount of instruction in his school within the term of nine months, no alter

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native seems left to him but to neglect to some extent in the class room, either the literary or the philological element of the subject. A thorough course of instruction in the philosophy and criticism of the language being essential to the production of finished scholars, or efficient teachers, public opinion would no doubt sustain the eminent gentleman who now occupies that chair, in making such instruction the primary object of his school. It ought not, therefore, to excite our surprise, that a very small portion of ancient literature is read to the professor, and this for the purpose, chiefly, of serving as the text for a philological commentary. The books which it is impracticable to read in the class, for want of time, the student is recommended to read in his room. This course, although the best which the circumstances of the case admit of, is attended with serious disadvantages. In the first place, the great body of every class pretermit altogether the private reading, and derive no other benefit from the course than the mental discipline of the philological exercises. In the second place, those who honestly attempt to go through the prescribed amount of reading, are unable to do it with advantage. They lose the powerful stimulus which is furnished by the presence of associates, and the great benefit to be derived from the instruction of the teacher, in correcting the errors of the student, and putting him as it were in mesmeric rapport with the author. There is an old proverb which says, to read a good book is much, to listen to a great man is more. To do both at once is a felicitous climax, which ought to be the privilege of every student of ancient literature at this University(CB0001). When the precepts of truth and taste come commended to us by the eloquence of living lips, hopeless stolidity alone can insulate itself from the electric current of enthusiasm, with which they carry away the soul.

There is no more important benefit to be derived from classical study, than the culture of style and taste in the practice of translation. This is an exercise level to the humblest capacity, but not to be exhausted by the finest genius. The peculiarities of the ancient languages as to flexion and conjugation, are such that it is frequently impossible to preserve the spirit and meaning of the original author in a literal translation. Cowley(P48081) has said that if a man should render the odes of Pindar word for word, it would

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be thought that one madman had translated another. Hence the difficulty of finding an exact equivalent in English, for what has been expressed by an ancient writer. It is by working out this problem, not in the slovenly manner which must always distinguish translations made in private reading, but with the spirit which would attend the effort in the presence of classmates, ready to appreciate and reward success, and a teacher able to expose and correct mistakes, that translation becomes an intellectual exercise of the highest order. The great masters of English eloquence, Bolingbroke(P47132), Fox() , Pitt(), Burke(P48076), Wyndham() and Brougham(P48089), men of whose ordinary conversation it has been said, that if taken down as it fell from their lips, and committed to print, it would possess the elegance, precision and idiomatic grace of finished productions, have delivered their unbroken suffrages in its favour. Dr. Arnold(P48090), whose opinions on education carry with them a more commanding weight of authority than those of any other person, went so far as to require his class, in the choice of words and style of sentences, to follow the analogy demanded by the age and character of the writer whom they were translating. Thus, in rendering Homer(), no words were to be used except Saxon, and the oldest and simplest of Norman() origin. Another serious disadvantage which attends the operation of our system, results from the tendency which it must impart to the best students, of regarding ancient literature only in its philological aspect. Philology has been defined, as the science which discusses both the origin and formation of words, and also their arrangement in sentences. The vocation of the scientific philologist, therefore, is to study language irrespective of literature. He approaches a language, not for the purpose of inwardly digesting and incorporating with his spiritual nature the thought which it embodies, but to comprehend it, as a piece of curious and elaborate mechanism, by means of which thought may be expressed. It was with this view, that Professor Turner() recently recommended the Smithsonian Institute(CB1049) to publish a grammar and dictionary of the Dakota language, that of a small and obscure Indian tribe. I am not disposed to undervalue philology; I admit its indispensable importance to the teacher, and its consequent right to the place which it now fills in our course; I concede its interest and utility to the scholar, as affording a val

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uable mental discipline, as facilitating the acquisition and complete comprehension of ancient literature, as shedding light upon the kindred sciences which discuss the laws of mind, the principles of criticism, and the elements and progress of civilization. But I contend it should never be forgotten, that for the purposes of the general student, philological instruction is a means, and not an end; that its object is, to introduce him to an acquaintance with those master-pieces of ancient genius, which Macaulay(P48082) tells us the highest minds contemplate, and will long contemplate in admiring despair; to bring his mind into such close contact with those great orators, sages and poets of antiquity, of whom it may be said, "Igneus vigor ollis, et celestis origo," that like the face of the Hebrew prophet, returning from the Holy Mount, it may continue radiant with the lingering light of their inspiration.

I wish to offer no strange fire upon our altars; I do not propose to diminish an iota the amount of philological instruction now given, and given, as we all know so well, but to provide for the professor of ancient languages(CB1048) such a staff of assistance, as will make it practicable to take the student through a full course of reading in ancient literature. I plead for an object which I know to be dear to the heart of the gentleman who presides over this department; I plead for the revival in our midst of the study of classical literature; I ask you to take Thucydides(P48083) and Livy(P48084), Plato(P48085) and Cicero(P48086), Homer(P48087) and Sophocles(P48088), from the obscurity in which, like sepulchral lamps, they now waste their splendour, and install them in their proper places as our classical professors. I am satisfied that without some provision of this kind, the noblest school in the University(CB0001), filled by scholarship which leaves us nothing to wish for, will be cursed with perpetual sterility, and the study of antiquity become the hortus siccus of learning.

Is the addition impracticable? No objection has occurred to my mind, which may not be urged with equal force against the feasibility of combining a course of private reading, with the exercise conducted at present under the supervision of the professor. If the student has time or ability to read classical liter

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ature in his room, he may read it to his teacher and with much more profit. As to the want of time, if the views which have been presented are correct, he should be required to take time. Antiquity protracted the season of youth too long; let us not commit the opposite error of terminating it too soon. The objection of a want of ability, arising from insufficient grammatical training, appears to be more serious, but I think I can cover my protest against its validity with an ample shield of authority. Without disparaging the great benefit of philological study, the proposition that no one but a scientific philologist can read the classics to advantage, may be affirmed to be at war with reason and experience. The great and striking beauties of Milton(P48069) and Shakspeare(P48074) are appreciated by thousands who have no critical knowledge, (desirable as this would be,) of the laws and structure of the English language. So, that imperfect acquaintance with the grammar of the ancient languages, (imperfect because based upon arbitrary rules, and not philosophical principles,) possessed by the majority of young men entering our college, is sufficient to enable an attentive student to catch a large portion of the beauty and spirit of their literature. It is certain that in England(PL6183) and the United States(PL8624), until a very late period, all our scholars were taught to interpret the classics empirically. Sir William Hamilton(P48073) informs us, that until recently England(PL6183) remained centuries behind the rest of Europe(PL8625) in philological science. If there was any principle in her pedagogical practice, 'gaudent sudoribus artes' must have been the rule, and applied it was with a vengeance. The English school-boy was treated like the Russian pack-horse; the load in one panier was balanced by a counterweight of stones in the other. George the III(P48091) sent a collection of school books to Heyne() , and amongst others, the Eton(CB1050) and Westminster(CB1051) grammars, which astonished, as well they might, the great scholar. All the philological monstrosities, confusions and perversions, which in the manuals of other countries had been long thrown out, were there embalmed. The unhappy tyro was initiated into Latin, through a Latin book; and the ten declensions and the thirteen conjugations, remained amid a mass of other abominations to complicate the study of Greek. And yet, the authors of England(PL6183), raised up under this wretched system of grammatical training, became so imbued with the spirit

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of antiquity, that they have baptized their native literature in its fountains. Nor can I suppose that any disciple of Bopp() , or Grimm(P48092), or Buttman() , will be hardy enough to affirm that Milton(P48069) and Gray(P48093), Dryden(P48094) and Addison(P48095), Taylor() and Johnson(P48077), every page of whose writings is redolent of the inspiring air of ancient letters, derived little benefit from classic culture.

The necessity of a school of the English language, literature and history has been long acknowledged by the friends of the University(CB0001). In other American institutions, the entire course of study is so distributed over the period of four years, that a diligent student with adequate preparation and good capacity, can find leisure during the collegiate term for the exercises of the literary societies, and a large amount of general reading. These societies are so far from being mere debating clubs, that discussion generally holds a subordinate place in them to the essay, the poem, and the prepared oration. Moreover, the reading and writing of composition forms no inconsiderable part of the regular college exercises, and enters as a large element into their distribution of honors. The combined operation of these causes produces the happiest results. A love of literature, a refinement of taste, a command of language, an affluence of imagery, sentiment and opinion are imparted to the student, frequently of more practical value to him than all the rest of his acquisitions. The societies attain a degree of prosperity, evidenced by their splendid halls, extensive libraries, and the generous emulation of their members, unknown in other countries, but amply deserved by the solid benefits they bestow. Amid these scenes of ennobling rivalry, these Attic nights spent "Not in toys, or lust, or wine, But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence, and poetry," friendship itself encloses the heart of youth in a net-work of pleasing associations, by which, in after life, he is drawn with each returning season, to those great infairs, at which Alma Mater(CB0001) periodically gathers her family of letters.

Under systems like this, demanding a small amount of collegiate attainment, but allowing ample opportunities for general reading, those revolutionary statesmen were trained, to whom

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the world is indebted for that series of masterly State papers, which constitute the crown jewels of political literature.

When I affirm that the original of the bright picture which has been drawn, is not to be found in the experience of the University(CB001), it is with no view of recommending an abandonment of our peculiar system for that which has produced these golden results. They were purchased at the expense of exact and finished scholarship. But whilst avoiding the defects of the old collegiate system, I desire to retain its admitted excellencies. It is difficult to see how any man, who has read the luminous report of Dr. Wayland(P48096) on College Education, can resist a conviction of the decided superiority of the principle upon which the University was established. It is the only one which, when perfected and developed, can reconcile the wants and interests of all classes; dispensing a complete and liberal education to those whose opportunities allow of it, but not withholding from young men of more limited means that modicum of knowledge which their avocations require. I contend that by filling a blank, which now exists in our scheme in respect to the English language and literature, we would in a great measure remove the cause of this unfavorable comparison. We have no provision whatever for any direct instruction on this subject. The Professor of Rhetoric, to illustrate the rules and principles of criticism, requires the class to read a certain amount, more or less, of English poetry, but it would be wholly foreign to the objects of his school, as well as impracticable from want of time, to give any systematic instruction in the language. Not only in the first class American colleges, but in the universities of continental Europe(PL8625), English literature is more elaborately studied than in this University(CB0001). One of the best manuals we possess consists of a course of lectures, delivered on this subject, before the Alexander Lyceum() of St. Petersburg(PL9418). Besides the want of regular instruction, there is another reason for our deficiency in this department. The whole spirit of our system is averse to that general reading of the best English authors, without which it is impossible to write the language with ease, grace and precision. Indeed it offers a premium for their neglect. No limitation of time is, or ought to be imposed by the different schools on the acquisition of a degree. The natural tendency of youth to

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abridge the season of preparation for manhood, is thus quickened: and the most promising students emulous to attain the goal in the shortest time, are unwilling to pause and secure the advantages which might be derived from a parallel course of general reading and attendance upon the exercises of the literary societies. And unless the laws of human nature can be reversed, it will be found impossible, under the present system, to induce any extensive culture of the English language and literature among our students, without the creation of a distinct chair expressly devoted to that object.

This reproach has been so long pointed at the University, it would be so easy with the present large number of students to remove it, that I trust to be pardoned for a fuller exposition of the feasibility and desirableness of the scheme which has been suggested. To disturb as little as possible the prevailing order of studies, the instruction to be given in the proposed school might be distributed over three years. The junior class might be occupied with a study of the grammar, history and idiomatic peculiarities of the language for which the labours of Tooke(), Harrison(P25515), Latham() and Fowler() have furnished copious materials. The intermediate student might be engaged in the critical reading of those authors in prose and verse, whose writings constitute landmarks in the language; the primary object of this reading being a philological exercise in the grammar of the language, and in the history, meaning and derivation of words. The senior year might be devoted to exercises in composition, analysis of select authors and study of English and American history. Books which would facilitate critical and elaborate study in this department have recently accumulated upon us, such as Cleveland's() admirable edition of Milton(), containing a perfect verbal index, and Richardson's(P48097) Dictionary, exhibiting the history of every word by an example of its use in the different stages of the languages, No man, without making the trial, has any idea of the amount of verbal investigation, necessary to the comprehension of our elder poets. To borrow an illustration of Campbell(P48098), like paintings on glass, they must be seen in a strong light to give forth the full radiance of their coloring. Dr. Murray() , the celebrated philologist, declared that he met with more difficulty in the critical reading of Paradise Lost than in Illiad. The history of

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words, embracing the changes of signification which they have undergone during the long period of time in which they have been used by a great nation to express its thoughts and feelings, furnish inexhaustible sources of entertainment and instruction. There are cases, says Coleridge(P48078), in which more knowledge of more value may be conveyed by the history of a word than the history of a campaign. When Dr. Johnson(P48077) declared that he was not so lost in Lexicography as to forget that words were the daughters of earth, and things the sons of heaven, he lost sight of the truth apparent to the keener vision of Mirabeau(P48099), that words and things are inseparable: a truth which the further we go back into antiquity, the more distinctly we find recognized, until in the ancient Hebrew the same term is employed to express both words and things. The language of a nation reflects as in a mirror, its character and history. Trench(P48100), in his entertaining treatise on words, describes them as a species of fossil literature; just as in the fossil the curious and beautiful forms of vegetable life, such as may have been extinct for thousands of years, are permanently bound up with the stone, and preserved from that destruction which would otherwise have overtaken them, so beautiful thoughts and images, the imaginations and feelings and judgments of past ages are preserved in words and made safe for ever. The critical study of words is necessary to preserve the mind from that narcotic re-action of language upon the understanding which arises from the power of habit in concealing the ideas which familiar phrases are intended to convey. There is nothing, says the same author, in which we can employ ourselves better than in seeking to remove the veil which custom has thus thrown over the hidden treasures of our English tongue; "there is nothing which will more help to form in us an English heart. We could scarcely have a single lesson on the growth of our English language; we could scarcely follow up one of its significant words, without having unawares a lesson in English history as well, without not merely falling on some curious fact illustrative of our national life, but learning also how the great heart which is beating at the centre of that life was gradually shaped and moulded.

The English language has been enriched by so many contributions in every department of thought, that the exclusive ap

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plication of years would be requisite to appropriate even its spolia opima. The scheme which has been suggested does not contemplate such extensive acquisitions. It simply aims to connect with that liberalizing and aesthetic influence which could not fail to be imparted by a perusal of the classic authors of the language, such a knowledge of its grammar, composition, idioms and history, as will enable the student to make the best use of it as an instrument for carrying on the operations of his own mind, and a medium for imparting them to others. These objects might be attained without requiring an expenditure of time inconsistent with the claims of other schools. Dr. Johnson(P48077) after compiling his Dictionary, expressed the opinion, that if the language of theology was extracted from Hooker and the Bible, the terms of natural knowledge from Bacon(P48080), the phrases of policy, war, and navigation from Raleigh(P48101), the dialect of poetry and fiction from Spencer() and Sydney() , and the diction of common life from Shakespeare(P48074), few ideas would be lost to the world for want of English words in which to express them. We are also told by Watts() that there is scarcely a happy combination of words, or a phrase poetically elegant in the language, which Pope(P48102) has not inserted in his version of Homer(P48087). These statements were not accurate when made, much less so now, but they sufficiently approximate the truth to show the feasibility of bringing English literature within the compass of a collegiate course, and making it the subject of academic study.

There is a simplicity, a freshness, a poetical diction about a language which is yet in the dew of its youth, not to be found in the later authors, into whose vocabulary a larger number of abstract terms have found their way. They should always constitute the patterns or integers of style. In the English language, the primitive or Saxon() element is also far more musical and expressive than the Norman(). No man can doubt this who will contrast the liturgy of the English church, that unbroken effusion of celestial harmonies with any modern composition. He, therefore, who would sound to its depths the powers of the English tongue, must study its early as well as recent literature. And yet into what oblivion is the former rapidly falling? Sharon Turner(P48103) supposes that one-fifth of the Anglo-Saxon element of the language has become obsolete. Not to speak of Chaucer(P48104), who

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now reads Spenser(P48105), or Cowley(P48081), or those twins of poesy, Beaumont(P48106) and Fletcher(P48107), or rare Ben Johnson(P48108)! De Quincey() tells us, in one of his essays, that no man now reads the Spectator. Who that is familiar with the wit, the humour, the satire, the beautiful pictures of old English manners, feelings and opinions, the good sense, the pure morality, the felicitous application to modern life of the finest precepts of ancient philosophy, embalmed in those simple but racy pages, can help mourning over the degeneracy of taste which can consign them to neglect. The spirit of the age, the temper and habits of our people render it impossible for the young man who has entered upon the business of life, to redeem time enough from its engrossing avocations for the critical study of our early writers. The most ambitious and industrious amongst us can hardly keep pace with the current of contemporary opinion and discovery. Scarcely a week passes without some volume of history, poetry or philosophy, emanating from the press, which invokes our attention by its bearing upon questions of immediate and vital interest. Such is the crowd of living authors, so numerous the candidates, and so brief the term of reputation, that the house of Fame has become an inn, where the great public realize Shakespeare's(P48074) description of the landlord "Who with light hand, shakes the parting guest, And turns with arms outstretched, as if he would fly, To grasp the new comer."

The creation of this school would render it practicable to extend some of the most important benefits of college culture, to large classes who, without such a provision, can never enjoy them. The love of letters does constitute the peculium of any privileged circle. There is no occupation in life which literature may not contribute to cheer, embellish and adorn. Comprehensive and prophetic as was the genius of Bacon(P48080), it never seems to have occurred to him that the art of printing could accomplish more than facilitate the intercourse, and perpetuate the acquisitions of men of learning. But the multiplication and cheapening of books have brought knowledge home to every man's door, not only in the ephemeral form of the newspaper, but in the best volumes of poetry, history and philosophy. The wheel of this

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great revolution has not completed its circuit. The active and producing classes may never find time to drink at the fountains of classical learning, but they may derive from the study of their own language, all the humanizing influences of polite literature, and men like Rogers() may rise up to ennoble the pursuits of commerce by a successful culture, as well as a generous patronage of letters.

There is no point in the whole compass of human sentiment and speculation, on which a light does not stream from English literature. It expresses the thoughts, feelings and history, the mind and heart of the foremost race which has yet illustrated the annals of time. It is, next to the christian religion, the most precious possession of humanity. Mighty agencies of Providence are at work, incorporating whole nations at a stroke with the Anglo-Saxon family. Our mission as scholars and patriots brings with it no higher duty than so to cherish and diffuse the study of English literature as to keep unbroken that mediation of language by which the present is brought into communion with the past, to preserve our noble tongue from a degrading intermixture with all the dialects of the world, and to prevent the melancholy prophecy of Pope(P48102) from being turned into still and mournful history. "Our sons their father's failing language see, And such as Chaucer(P48104) is, must Dryden(P48094) be."

Let us accomplish the work to which these persuasive considerations impel us, and we may hope that the corruptible forms of human speech will put on immortality; that our Father's, like a spiritual presence, will forever continue to hang around our pathway, and that in the remotest ages of the Future, the bright belt of civilization will be spanned by the language of Bacon(P48080) and Burke(P48076), of Milton(P48069) and Shakspeare(P48074).

The exigencies of our position demand something more than an increase in the subjects of instruction. We want some extraneous power to quicken the feeble springs of emulation, and attract to a life of letters a portion of the genius and energy which are now absorbed by the active pursuits of society. There is no opening amongst us for a young man whose tastes incline him to literary avocations; no apprenticeship which he can

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serve to make himself a master workman. All who know any thing of the occupation of the school-teacher must be satisfied that it should constitute an exclusive pursuit, and that no man, unless he is one of those iron sons of health in whose favour nature seems to suspend her ordinary laws, can go from the school-room at night, with the freshness and elasticity of mind essential to the success of original investigation. The institution, as the funds of the University would justify it, of lectureships, to be filled by Alumni, on special and limited subjects outside the ordinary course of instruction, with a small fixed salary, and the privilege of charging a moderate fee for admission, could not fail to produce results of inappreciable value. It would raise the general standard of attainment amongst the undergraduates. It would open a vista of distinction sufficently attractive to secure a succession of competent lecturers. Without interfering with the subjects of the regular schools, the province of the lecturer would lie so contiguous that in place of the waveless calm which naturally follows a monopoly of instruction, an active and perpetual emulation would be excited amongst our professors, such as exists in the Universities of continental Europe(PL8625), without the odium academicum which there almost neutralizes its benefits. It would constitute a nursery of professors. Relying less upon text books and more upon the expositions of the teacher, than in other institutions, the interests of the University are put in jeopardy, on every selection of a new professor. How desirable to have scattered through the country a class of men, whose native ability, acquired qualification, experience in the art of instruction, and experience of the modus operandi of our peculiar system may give an earnest of their fitness to discharge these important trusts. By means of this provision we might reap without abatement all the advantages of those fellowships to which England(PL6183) owes her race of great scholars. Detur digniori is not the rule upon which honours are bestowed under these English foundations. The fellowships have been established by individual bounty, and are trammelled by every variety of mischievous condition which can be dictated by individual caprice. They have too often served as a retiring list for indolent scholars, who, reposing on their early laurels, have shrunk from farther service in the cause of learning. Nothing is more natural than

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that this hive of drones should have provoked public odium. The lectureship by the duties which it imposed would forbid the indulgence of any such barren contemplation, such dreamlike and unproductive leisure.

The crowning recommendation of this scheme arises from its tendency to form a class of authors, and thus to prove the nursery of a native literature. It has been shown by ancient as well as modern experience that nothing qualifies a man to write upon a subject like teaching it. Adam Smith(P48109) tells us that except a few poets, orators and historians, the greater part of the men of letters of Greece(PL9279) and Rome(PL4685) were public or private teachers, and that this was true from the days of Lysias(P48110) and Isocrates(P48111), Plato(P48085) and Aristotle(P48070), down to those of Plutarch() and Epictetus(P48112), Suetonius(P48113) and Quinctillian(). The lectureship would secure in addition that degree of leisure, without which it is impossible to pursue the precept "nulla dies sine linea," a precept which embodies, as it were, the organic law of all great compositions. Without such leisure, the fruit of public or private patronage, one half of the literature of England() would never have seen the light. Even in our own century, Wordsworth(), Southey(), and Coleridge() could never have given themselves to letters without the aid of private generosity. We may calculate the positive gain which has been derived to literature from these sources, but what arithmetic can compute the loss from their not having been more abundant? We know that Adam Smith(), because he could find no other support for his declining years than in a custom house, was unable to finish a projected work on Jurisprudence, which, by combining the distinct excellencies of the "Theory of Moral Sentiments" and "The Wealth of Nations," might have eclipsed the fame of both. Who that is familiar with the yearning aspirations constantly breaking forth in the letters of Bacon() for a contemplative life, from which he was only deterred by the res angusta domi, does not regret that amid the shades of some great University, those energies were not given to mankind, which he wasted on the frivolous intrigues of a corrupt court? How irreparable the loss of any essays like those on which even the sober genius of Mackintosh() could lavish the splendid encomium that they embodied the re

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sults of all human study, and the consummation of all uninspired wisdom.

We have no Oxford(PL9286) or Halifax(), gentlemen, of princely fortune, to atone by their private munificence, for the want of public patronage. An author of established reputation, in certain lines of composition, may obtain a steady and liberal support from the sales of his works; but how many men of genius are deterred by the hazard to be encountered in the pursuit of such reputation; how many from being attracted to fields of labour, in which the popular taste would not remunerate the toil. Native genius only can create a native literature. Government may provide for its culture and expression, but at that point must leave it in despair. But from all the antecedents of Virginia(PL4507) , we have every reason to think that if her talent and energy could be directed to the pursuits of letters, she would be primus interpares. A public is in existence able to appreciate, and anxious to welcome the advent of a native literature. The elements which must enter into its composition are ready to the hand of the artist. The unconscious genius which must achieve the task, is only waiting like the disguised Achilles(), for the blast of some revealing trumpet.

A very large addition is urgently demanded to the library of the University(CB0001). Whilst the whole circumference of human thought has been blazing with the fires of investigation and discovery, our library has remained almost stationary. It is not only far inferior in numbers and value to the libraries of Harvard(PL8564), Yale(CB0007), Dartmouth(CB0703), Brown(CB1052), Bowdoin(CB1053), and Georgetown(CB0028), but as a working library, that is one furnished with books adapted to the wants of those who are to use them, there are few respectable institutions in our country which cannot boast a better. This humiliating disparity is increasing with every year. No opportunity presents itself at home or abroad to purchase scarce and valuable books which is not embraced by some public institution or private gentleman of the North. It was but yesterday that the select library of the great ecclesiastical historian Neander(), consisting of five thousand volumes, was bought by an obscure college in the interior of New York(PL4614). You may form some conception of the extent of our wants from the admitted deficiencies of the best libraries in the country. It has been repeat

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edly stated that there is not one from which the references in Gibbon's() History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire could be verified. The remark might be applied with equal truth to Humboldt's Cosmos(). Professor Jewett() of the Smithsonian Institute, says, that of the books cited by Wheaton() in his International Law, 39 could not be found in the United States(PL8624); of 251 books cited by Hoefer(), in his History of Chemistry, 125 could not be found in the United States(); of 204 referred to by Bartlett() in his Progress of Ethnology, 105 could not be found in the United States(PL8624). Without consuming your time with the details of our deficiencies, I speak advisedly when I say, (and I wish my voice could reach every man within the borders of the commonwealth, whose heart throbs with one pulse of State pride,) that there is no single branch of learning in which the Library of the University of Virginia(CB0001) enables its professor to keep abreast of the age. There is no year in which half a dozen costly volumes do not appear eminently desirable from their value and rarity to place on our shelves, but which it would exhaust the entire sum appropriated to our library to procure. And yet it is estimated that twenty thousand volumes, including periodicals and pamphlets, purporting to be additions to human knowledge, are published annually. Without a great and systematic enlargement of the library, and a far more liberal provision to meet its current wants, the time is rapidly approaching when the professors of the University must be content to receive and impart, at second hand, the conclusions of other scholars and thinkers, or to make periodical pilgrimages to our sister colleges, for the purposes of research, that they may dispense on their return, the streams of learning drawn from these eleemosynary fountains.

Are we willing to surrender the grand but rational expectations of the founders of the University(CB0001), as to the place it would fill in the republic of letters? Has our ambition stooped so low, that to reach the level of the second rate institutions of the country, in the appliances and facilities of learning, seems a lofty flight? What a centre of intellectual activity has New England(PL9419) become by reason of her great libraries. She has produced a dictionary of the English language, which, notwithstanding a legion of faults, has taken its place on the shelf of the English and American scholar, along side that of Johnson(P48077). She has

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given to the world, works on public law, which are cited with grateful appreciation by the great jurists of England(PL6183), France(PL8588) and Germany(PL4689). She has invaded provinces hitherto deemed sacred to the feet of European learning, and inscribed on the most lasting monuments of Spanish glory, the enduring memorials of her own fame. She has put her golden sickle into the fields of American history, and reaped their virgin harvests. One of her sons, equally eminent as a scholar and a statesman, has planned and announced a work on International law, which, if the execution shall realize the promise given by his taste, genius, erudition and extraordinary opportunities of preparation will forever blend the name of Everett() with that of Grotius().

Let a liberal public policy make that provision for the Southern scholar which will enable him to divide the yet ungathered honours of learning. The past can wake no sigh of envy by the trophies which mark its narrow span, so long as the horizon of the future opens a limitless expanse to generous ambition. Much as has been accomplished, much more remains to be done. In history, philosophy, criticism, in all departments of inquiry, and in all forms of fiction, the progressive spirit and more enlightened views of our age call for fresh labourers. In the first edition of Bacon's Novum Organon(P48080), the frontispiece was a ship sailing beyond the pillars of Hercules(), those impassable barriers which the superstition of antiquity had fixed to the voyage of the navigator. This lofty symbol may teach us an eternal and inspiring lesson. Every age thinks itself within sight as it were of the ultimate boundaries of human knowledge, but it will be forever found that beyond these imaginary limits, lie oceans of undiscovered truth.

I trust I must have satisfied you, that without an extension of its course of instruction and an increase of its means and facilities for research, the University can never accomplish the great ends of its foundation. I can not doubt that animated by the noble sentiment, so expressive of the spirit of letters, "Nil actum reputavi, dum quid superesset agendum."

You will respond to this appeal in behalf of our Alma Mater(CB0001), in the form which your riper judgment may consider best calculated to secure its substantial objects. I trust that it will at

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least quicken your sense of the extent and urgency of our wants, and lead to an increased zeal in your efforts to disabuse the public mind of its ancient prejudices, and keep it properly informed of the relation which must ever subsist between the fame, the power and even the safety of the commonwealth, and the prosperity of its institutions of learning. There is no subject which could more worthily engage the attention of the statesmen of Virginia(PL4507), than the means of making this University a great centre of literary activity, a fountain light of letters, if not for the whole Union, at least for that portion of it to which Virginia(PL4507) is bound by the strong links of nature, and the indissoluble ties of kindred sympathies, glories and fortunes. Not that I would check the mighty impulse which has gone abroad, inciting us to develope the physical resources of the commonwealth, and increase the elements of her material civilization. Let the earth in motherly profusion, yield her heaviest harvests to the hand of industry; let the mountains open to their base and surrender their ancient treasures: let the cataract cease to blow its trumpet from the steep, to charm the ear of listening poets and become the porter of commerce; above all, let steam with iron key unbar the rocky gates which have kept apart the East and the West, and the long divided sisters be forever locked in a loving embrace. But these are not the noblest triumphs of a nation. There is something grander than to subdue external nature, and bind her mysterious elements and powers, in chains held by human hands. To develope the native mind of a people, to call forth the genius and sentiment of her sons and preserve them in some enduring form, safe from the wrong of time, to pour through every avenue, into the popular mind, the rays of knowledge, until the faint dawn of general intelligence shall kindle upwards to a perfect day, these are the objects which should claim the earliest and the latest thoughts of a statesman who would fill the eye of future time. Even in an economical view, this would be the policy of wisdom—Watt(), Arkwright() and Fulton(P48115) have been supposed to be worth to the world, more than a permanent working population of three millions. During the period of our existence as an independent commonwealth, how many minds capable of enlarging the boundaries of knowledge by research, or adding to the sum of human comforts by dis

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covery, have slumbered through life as unconscious of their powers as the flint of its fire or the rock of its gem! May we not borrow the beautiful sentiment of Cowley(), in his elegy on the death of young Harvey(), and exclaim— "We have lost in them, arts, which not yet are found."

When the philosopher misses a star from the Heavens, he is cheered by the hope, that it has passed merely beyond the range of his telescope, and that after wandering awhile in other regions of the universe, it will re-visit his eyes with light. It is as those who sorrow without hope, that we mournfully gaze into the vacant depths of the past, for the lost Pleiads() of mind which under a more enlightened policy might have glittered forever in the firmament of letters.

I have endeavoured to point out the mode by which an expansion of the University(CB0001) as a school of liberal arts might operate to develope and foster a native literature. The considerations which at all times have induced the wisest statemen to encourage literature, apply to our condition with singular emphasis. Literature being the only form in which the finest sentiment and opinion of the state can reach the masses, which wield its political power, may be regarded as the most important of the conservative elements of the future. It is eminently fitted to cure the peculiar infirmities of democratic society, to introduce a train of benignant arts, and rings in as it were the golden age of humanity. American literature is charged with an independent but sublime mission. It belongs to her, to mediate between the angry passions of opposing parties, to heal the wounds of sectional strife, to cement by a cohesion stronger than laws, a distracted people, to preserve the integrity of national history, and to hold up in its true light, both before our own time and future ages, the character and condition of that great region of the confederacy, around which ignorance, prejudice and fanaticism have spread their darkening mists. Domestic slavery has impressed such distinct and peculiar features upon Southern society, that it can never be comprehended or appreciated by the rest of the world, without a class of native authors, Southern born and Southern bred, to interpret between us and them. Northern

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men of the most enlarged patriotism, seldom visiting us at home, and then in a ceremonious way, looking at us through imperfect light, and judging us by false standards, catch only the sharp points which rise up above the face of our institutions, and are unable to form a fair and intelligent estimate of our character. Hence our history, our moral and social habits, our opinions, all the circumstances of our condition, are discoloured by the partial and broken medium of that Northern literature, through which only they are now exhibited to the world. It will be idle to look for the pure light of truth, until the rays of knowledge, sentiment and opinion, reflected from the diversified surface of our whole country shall intermingle and melt in a comprehensive and truly national literature.

We want a native literature to vindicate the integrity of history, and preserve from oblivion the fame of our fathers. Every year is adding to the number of those writers who have no wish to do us justice, and by destroying the materials of history, is substracting from the ability of such as are animated by a more Catholic spirit. The great picture of the revolutionary struggle, even as it now stands in the gallery of the past, does not produce the impression which it did at the beginning of this century. No figure or incident has been stricken from the canvass, but the painting has been placed in a somewhat different light, and thus the relative prominence of the actors in the drama, has been in a measure altered. Every character and transaction which could shed lustre on New England(PL9419), has been brought into full relief, whilst those which might be claimed as the glory of our warmer latitudes, have been thrown into corresponding shadow. Diligent effort has not been wanting to rob us of our interest in the great fame of Washington(P44390), by representing him as a man of Northern character. The falsifications of history of which I complain, commenced, so far as I have traced them, with anniversary orators; but fiction comes in time to believe its own fables, and they have been transferred to soberer pages. The most elaborate history which has yet appeared of the United States(PL8624), (for Mr. Bancroft(P44323) has just broken revolutionary ground,) is that of Hildreth(P48116). I shall be excused from citing any passages to show the character of this book, when I remind you that the historian is the author of the White Slave : for the mind from

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which such ferocious fanaticism could emanate is incapable of doing justice to the great slaveholders of the nation. But our fathers have suffered no less from ungrateful forgetfulness, than from envy and obloquy. "Great men have lived amongst us, heads that planned, And tongues that uttered wisdom, better none."

Otis(P47698), Quincy() , and Adams(P47831), Hamilton(P48117), Jay(P48118), and Clinton(P48119), Ellworth() , Morris(P48120), and Read(P48121), have found worthy chroniclers. But the scattered memorials which illustrate the equally eminent careers, of Rutledge(P48122) and Pinckney() , of Mason(P48123) and Pendleton() , of Randolph() and Giles(), of Madison() and Marshall() are left to perish. Shall the reflected lustres of this heroic age which yet surround us, go out in night? Let Virginia(PL4507) cease to be a spendthrift of glory. Let the pious hands of her sons renew the fading colours of her great Revolutionary picture. Let native genius bend its listening ear, to catch those broken words, in which the faint breathing of dying tradition is yet murmuring the fame of our fathers, and utter them in the living and imperishable voice of History.

But there is another office for which we want a native literature. The statesman of this day can not say, Let me make the ballads of a people, and I care not who makes her laws, but he may say, Let me give tone to her literature, to the ephemeral issue of the daily press, as well as the volume which takes its permanent place in the library, and I will either defeat the execution of your laws, or deprive the law-giver of any other function, than to register my edicts. The power of the pen now exceeds that of the sword, the purse, and the tongue. It has advanced in an accummulating ratio with the diffusion of knowledge. Even in periods, when it could act only on a much smaller number of minds, its bloodless conquests surpassed in grandeur and extent, the triumphs of war. The empire of Aristotle(P48070) survived that of Alexander(P48124). Napoleon(P48125) did not alter the face of Europe(PL8625), more than Bacon(P48080). The order of Jesuits(CB1054) has recovered more easily from the blows aimed at them by kings and councils, than from the terrible strokes of Pascal(P48126). A more striking example is yet within the period of human memory.

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When society was first convulsed by the upheaving of that awful revolution, with which the heart of Europe(PL8625) still palpitates, when a generous but mistaken sympathy with new-born freedom disguised from the wisest and noblest spirits, the full extent of the crisis, England(PL6183) was saved from the torrent of wild and disorganizing opinion which swept towards her shores, by that moral break-water which the genius of Burke(P48076) interposed in those immortal papers, which form his most precious contribution to letters. Truth, freedom and civilization, never laid out a greater work to be accomplished by literature, than at this day. The expansion of our territory, and the increase of our population all the signs of the times foreshadow the growth of a republican Rome(PL4685) in the West, whose dominion shall be more enduring and universal than that of its prototype of antiquity. It is the forming hand of letters alone which can impress these mighty elements of power, that yet sleep in the womb of the morning with a truly American spirit.

The fact that literature has been recently brought to bear upon the institution of slavery, ought not to be dismissed, by us, who know how lasting, diffusive, and almost omnipotent, is its influence, without the gravest consideration. The success of Uncle Tom's Cabin discloses the most formidable danger which crosses our line of future march. Moral delusions can not be resisted by physical resources. They can subdue the power of fleets and armies, treasures, fortifications and natural bulwarks. We have no cause to fear lest a breach be made in the constitution by the bloody hand of violence lest "Some dread Nemesis, Break from the darkened future, crowned with fire, To tread us out forever;" lest our people be called to fall in despairing files around their violated hearth-stones, and amid the horrors of national fratricide the gates of mercy be shut upon mankind. We are threatened by a policy more insidious in its approaches, but not less fatal in its results. The native and foreign organs of fanaticism have expressly avowed it as their object, so to corrupt the moral sentiment of the North, that it will be ready to sanction either an open violation of the constitution, or a dishonest per

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version of its meaning, and so to divide the public opinion and weaken the public spirit of the South, that when legislation is invoked to consummate the last act of injustice, it will be impossible to rally her people in that unbroken phalanx, which might bid defiance to aggression.

We can no longer cover the salient points of our institutions, through the halls of Congress(CB0089). The voice of the statesman and the orator can not reach the masses, with whom lie the issues of life and death. Literature alone can dispossess the demon of fanaticism by its sweet compulsion.. Let us appeal to her varied forms, of poem, drama, novel, history, and essay, to enter every cottage in the land, and disperse the delusions which invest this whole subject of domestic slavery. Let them vindicate it before the reason and conscience of our people, and hallow it as a great instrumentality of Providence, in their affections. Let them declare, how earnestly we resisted its original imposition, how consistently we have laboured for its subsequent amelioration, how uniformly we have sustained every measure of policy which promised for it a peace euthanasia, and how fiercely those who still roll in the unblessed wealth of that bloody commerce from which it sprang, have sought to close every avenue for its gradual extinction, and hem it in, to perish amid social and national convulsion. Let them point out in characters of light, which all who run may read, that human wisdom has yet devised no scheme for its abolition, which does not call upon a great and enlightened people to sacrifice all the civilization which makes life valuable for the mockery of conferring an empty freedom upon a race unfit for its enjoyment. Let them show that although the same imperious necessity which suspends ordinary laws in times of peril, forbids us to banish from the statute book, the provisions which uphold the power of the master over his slave, yet that all human laws receive their form and pressure from the spirit of a people, and like the atmosphere we breathe, although possessing a weight more crushing than iron, may be made to bear lightly as the gossamer film of summer. Let them exhibit the mighty though noiseless features of public opinion, in softening the harsher features of slavery, and converting its elements of danger and suffering into springs of refinement and virtue. Let them deliver to an immortality of

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honest scorn, the libeller who has raked through the prison records of a nation, that she might hold up the isolated and exceptional cases of cruelty to be found scattered over the tract of half a century, among its millions of population, as types of a whole people, and generalizations of their character. Let them rid us of the superstition, that slavery is a cleaving mischief, and by contrasting the general comfort, content, and virtue of our people, with the pictures of English life, that have been drawn to our hands by her favourite poets and novelists, with the fierce confederate storm of sorrow, barricaded evermore in her great cities, with the solitary anguish, piped by humanity, amid her groves and fields, with the visions of crime and despair, which welter through the pages of Dickens(P44333), and Thackeray() , and Jerrold(P48127), bring conviction home to the most unbelieving and desponding amongst us, that the age of gold was not more unlike the age of iron, than is our primitive society remote from the vice and suffering which mark the civilization of the old world, and which are beginning to draw miniature lines of their darkest features around the free States of the North.

Let us Southern scholars but be true to the responsibilities of our time and place, and the darkness will no longer dare affront the light. We shall divide the public opinion of the world, break the force of its sympathy, and by pouring through the bosoms of our people the living tide of hope, strengthen their hearts for the day of trial, and cover our land and its institutions with a shield of fire.

I would raise up a native literature, if it could perform no other function than to be our witness before posterity. Whether as Milton(P48069) has suggested, the love of posthumous fame, that after life in the breath of others, be an infirmity, which the individual spirit should shake off, certain I am, that a people indifferent of the reputation which they shall transmit to their children, solicitous as to the elements of physical strength and material enjoyment which they shall leave behind them, but careless of preserving that nobler estate of glory, which might sustain the sinking virtue of remote generations, content that the period in which they live, amid the interspace of ages, should be like the picture of Marino Faliero(), at Venice(PL9421), the solitary image in the ancestral gallery of a nation, shrouded in shame, certain

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I am, that such a people, although born to an inheritance of fame and freedom, can only burrow amid the monuments of their fathers.

If our institutions are ever to be overthrown, let no interposing cloud of fanaticism cover the truth from the view of future ages. Let us catch the inspiration of that sublime prayer, which the Father of poetry puts into the mouth of Ajax(), in the very extremity of Grecian distress, when hostile deities had shifted the fortunes of war; a prayer instinct with the spirit which gives immortality to the dying hero; "If Greece() must perish, we thy will obey, But let us perish in the face of day."

On yonder mountain sleeps the dust of the great apostle(P43611) of human liberty, but here breathes his living spirit. All around us, wherever the eye can turn, survive, as I trust, in imperishable forms, his(P43611) comprehensive views, his elegant tastes, his liberal opinions, his expansive sympathies. His very fame overshadows these walls, as their tutelary genius. I would invoke the mute eloquence of that immortal presence, to plead with you the cause of letters, bound up for us in the fortunes of this University. Let it, in a communion too deep for words, animate you so to multiply the schools, increase the libraries, and develope the means of education here planted, that long as the circling seasons endure, the golden quiver of our Alma Mater(CB0001) maybe full of arrows, to track their rolling years with light. May the aspiration ascend from every heart, that long as the heights of Monticello(PL8532) shall lift themselves to Heaven, so long may the domes and spires of this University, rise up in all the majesty of proportion to greet them; forever to dwell together kindred points in the natural landscape, and no less kindred points in the American heart, typifying as they stretch forth their arms towards each other, the inseparable connection between knowledge and freedom, and proclaiming to all after ages, that the patriot who would hallow liberty, should build its altars amid the bowers of learning, and the scholar who would raise to letters an enduring temple, should lay its foundations amid the shrines of freedom.