to cope with all the difficulties of life. The whole world speaks to him with moral lessons. When he meets with apparent discrepancies they do not shake his faith but stimulate his wonder and inquiring love. The duties of society which he has to perform assume more than a passing interest. He feels his own position as a responsible unit but not a separate one. Nay, he knows himself to be bound up with all that are around him, all that were before, all that shall be after. History does not feed his theories only, but it provides him with examples. Science is no longer the mere purveyor to his conveniences. It is the exhaustless library of multiform wisdom in which he beholds the impress of his FATHER'S will. He goes forth trained in morals and intellect so as to find happiness in the path of duty wheresoever it may please GOD to call him. This we conceive to be the aim of the higher education, the happiness of individuals ministering to the welfare of society.

II. What are the means employed in the education? They are partly internal and partly external. By internal we mean those which are inherent in the University system, as that is an organized living whole. By external we mean such as the appliances of the age, and the circumstances of the time can supply.

The great internal instrument of education is the intellectual activity of the place. It is well described by Mr. Patteson, (p. 253,)

"The first and indispensable condition of the efficiency of the higher education is an intellectual activity, general, pervading, sustained, and that this activity be directed upon the central and proper object of human knowledge."

Intellect without activity cannot be healthy. The University cannot be in a healthy state if its life-blood do not circulate. The members of a University are not living there for themselves alone. They belong to a body, and must perform the functions which belong to them in that body. Even the junior members are not there only for themselves; they are bound, as stated in the oath upon admission to foundations, "ad promovendam gloriam,” to promote the common glory. They are there to exercise influence upon their fellow students, to carry forth a leavening principle into the world at large, to nurture energies in themselves for the good of their successors. The University must always feel itself one with the future and with the present, as well as with the past. Its work is the same in all times, and under all circumstances. It is not merely the home of learned men, but the home of learning. Learning and teaching are the communication of mind to mind.

This activity must be general, comprising all subjects, and pervading, comprising all individuals. În a large body there must be great diversity of ability, but the University is not the place for the display of the greater minds, but for the exercise, training, and

combined utilization of all. Subjects which would be of little value, perhaps mere pastimes if pursued by themselves, are admitted as subsidiary to the more arduous efforts of intellectual investigation. Minds which in separation would exercise no influence upon the world around them find their duties in the University, and the subordinate work which falls to their lot is not to be done as mere mechanical drudgery, but as a result of sympathy and participation in the common object.

We require a sustained activity. There cannot now conceivably be a famine of that food which the University requires. The University must therefore be self-sustaining. Its life must retain an equable vigour, nourished by the continually augmenting stores which it has to dispense.

This activity, associated activity, is the basis of that sympathy which is the instrument of the higher education. In earlier education the mind of the learner had to bring itself into connection with material objects, or external facts, now it has to go further, and enter into combination with the mind of others, by which these objects and facts have been discovered, appropriated, regulated, and made useful. The teacher's mind must be active if it is to work upon the mind of the learner. A lecture delivered impressively is a certain though a trifling exercise of the lecturer's mind, and therefore it is better than a book; but catechesis is the real work of the University, hearing and asking questions, eliciting questions by questions, and especially such questions as will require investigation before they can be answered, so that teacher and pupil may work together in the discovery of truth. The tutor is not to be an oracle, leaving at the door of the shrine answers cut and dried to every question, but he is to be a guardian and companion, able to give help to his pupil, not by superior knowledge so much as by superior aptitude and experience, in the application of what is known, and the discovery of what is concealed.

"As the contemners of classical scholarship, (vide p. 256,) would be right if scholarships stopt with the rudiments of language-with grammar, syntax, and prosody, with the laws of construction and accentstopt in short where with the majority of school-educated Englishmen it does stop, then it would be true that the spending six or eight years in painfully acquiring two languages is an egregious folly. Just so it is with logic. The logic of the schools, a certain more or less arbitrary collection of formal laws of reasoning, is the grammar of the higher moral and physical sciences. But the whole utility of this grammar is annihilated if it be not followed up by an advance into those sciences. Logic is indispensable as the preliminary of philosophy; it is useless if philosophy be not contemplated as the apex of the education which logic inaugurates. As the grammar school system by which the rudiments of Greek and Latin were painfully inflicted through eight barren years, was a monstrous and truncated phenomenon, when its proper complement, the higher philology, was cut off by the incapacity of the

college tutor, so the school logic has been in a preposterous situation since the University schools ceased to afford the higher philosophical teaching in which alone the art of logic found its use and application."

The mind of teacher and learner must, therefore, be in continual energy, and sympathetic action, continually conversant with those external objects, facts, doctrines, principles, which are inculcated by the elementary education as a mere external tradition. This is the case, as it is said, p. 258, "equally in the highest generalizations of moral, political and economic science, where it is indispensable that the constant testing of the principle by its inductive base should be maintained." There is no indefiniteness about this work. The difference is that in the elementary education we see the terminus ad quem, in the higher education the terminus a quo. Vagueness arises from losing sight of the starting point. Scepticism consists in doubting about the reality of what is known. Philosophy is the energy by which we speculate from certain premises, and investigate the consequences involved in that knowledge which we already possess. So far, then, if we have rightly interpreted Mr. Patteson's language we are at one with him. The sympathetic action of mind upon mind in the work of philosophical investigation is the great instrument of University education. There is no reality, and consequently, no power of self-sustainment in second-hand knowledge. It is not enough to know about nature, we must be conversant with nature. Theories of morals avail us not, we must learn morals in practice. Philosophic views are not of the least use, we must realise the position and intentions of those who have enuntiated them. The acceptance of theological statements is not living faith, we must learn their bearing upon ourselves by communion with GOD. To catch at other people's results is a most deceptive snare, the narrowness of what is called liberalism exactly consists in wide views being adopted without being realized or appreciated. Nothing tends to narrow men's perceptions more than to embrace and reflect greatness which they cannot make their own, it is like the reflection of a vast constellation in a pool of water.

The external instruments of learning are, therefore, necessary to the higher education. The University is not merely a thinking, speculative corporation, living upon theories, it is a society investigating that deposit of truth which it has received or acquired; consequently, as we have seen, all knowledge finds a place here. The objects external to ourselves which we have to investigate are -Man, Nature, and GOD.

The first and the last of these have been hitherto the chief object of University study. We are now becoming better acquainted with nature than men were of old. We must be careful that we do not allow it to assume too great an importance in our curriculum, not because it is unimportant, but because it is not of

the same importance as the other two. The knowledge of nature may have vast results, but only temporary ones. GOD and man are eternal objects of contemplation, and the knowledge of GoD and man is knit up with our eternal interests. Above all, we must not let the study of man's speculations upon himself and nature take the place of revelation which comes from GOD. The break up of the scholastic theology had a tendency to throw men away from God's teaching to their own fancies and speculations. The reason why Mr. Patteson is able to contrast "the mutually anathematizing sects" of modern times with "the calmer dissensions of the schools," is, that the scholastic theologians held so much more closely to the terminus a quo. It is self-love in the love of self-chosen formula which embitters the pious spirit of Divine philosophy. The more of self there is in our theory, and the less there is of GOD, so much the more will there be of strife and vainglorious division. The natural tendency of these divisions, in which revelation was gradually lost sight of, has been manifested in the decline of theological study in the University. Hitherto the study of man has taken the lead. Now, the study of nature is getting into prominence.

The study of man has been carried on chiefly under the forms of philology and ethics. Language and morals are united together in a mysterious manner. This is the reason why language is so excellent a form of training. The study of language makes a man conversant with himself. It unfolds the secrets of his own thoughts, "the higher speech," as it is called. The study of accurate expression is intimately connected with accurate modes of thinking, and this again with definite principles of action. Language, therefore, and logic, train men to appreciate moral arguments in a manner which other disciplinal studies do not.

However, besides the immediate advantage derivable to the mind from the continuance of disciplinal study along with philosophical training in the University, there is a special use in the bringing all pursuits together into one focus. A University must be engaged in the study of all the knowledge of the time. The object of this is not simply that the various University students may be so far aided in their several businesses for after-life, but that an atmosphere may be created suitable to liberalize all the minds which come within its influence. It may be that such and such studies are not pursued by many, but the mere fact of their recognition creates a sympathy. Intercourse with those who are engaged in the study, produces a certain amount of acquaintance, an acquaintance, too, which will be quite different in kind from the smattering of knowledge obtained through reading a book, although both may be superficial. What we may perhaps call a sympathetic acquaintance with subjects which lie beyond our own beaten track, may be of the greatest service in opening the mind to the reality of truths and the force of arguments in connexion with them.

Besides this, it is of importance that we should know our own subject in its proper place. We must know about other truths in order to know our own fully. Comparative philology and comparative anatomy are striking instances of the way in which subordinate studies run up into one head. So all science runs up into the "Universality," as Bacon calls it, which is the pursuit of the University. The following remarks are very just.

"The liberal education which it is the office of the University to supply, being this enlargement or illumination of mind; this mental breadth what Bacon calls Universality,' it is necessary that it be real : i.e., that it be based on knowledge, that it be a comprehensive view of science, and not a mere acquaintance with the terminology of science. On the other hand an education in facts, in some one or more special art or science is not a liberal education at all; on the other, the mere habit or power of taking general views, universal notions, as learnt from literature, is a hollow and spurious liberalizing of the mind.

An education of literature does in some measure liberalize the mind, but it is at second hand, through other men's thoughts, and in the way of tradition; it is a fallacious fabric, a sophistical power of words rather than an eternal possession of truth and reality."-P. 267.

Just previously to these are some remarks upon French education, which may be quoted.

"Liberal education in France is not yet considered worth having, for its own sake, or as a qualification for life. It is wholly subordinate to the purpose of shining in society; only so much of it is obtained as shall serve as a qualification for conversation; and no accomplishment is so showy and dazzling as the easy and habitual use of the language of philosophical culture. . . . But it is a mistake to suppose, as is sometimes done, that this superficiality of French secondary education is owing to its not being conducted as our own is, on the basis of the ancient languages; to a want, in short, of the grounding in Greek which our grammar schools give. On the contrary, its superficiality is owing to its being exclusively a language training instead of a science training; the difference being that they employ a modern literature, and the terminology of the philosophy of the day, while we employ an ancient language and literature."

Subjects which are treated of in a bulky literature are for this reason above all others likely to engender showiness and superficiality. Let us take history, for example. Dates, and treaties, and laws are dry truths. General theories about these are brilliant and attractive, even when they are falsehoods. There is all the difference which there would be between architectural drawings of S. Peter's, and a gorgeous, expressive handling of the subject by such a master as Claude. People's notions of history are in the highest degree profitless and superficial, because they are not formed on facts themselves, but are hashings up of other people's views of what those facts were.