{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7150/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7150","id":"gutenberg_7150","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7150","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Science - Biology","Category: Teaching & Education","Education","Priestley, Joseph, 1733-1804","Science -- Study and teaching"],"text":"Produced by Thomas Berger, Carlo Traverso, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                         SCIENCE & EDUCATION\n\n\n\nESSAYS\n\nBY\n\nTHOMAS H. HUXLEY\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nThe apology offered in the Preface to the first volume of this series\nfor the occurrence of repetitions, is even more needful here I am\nafraid. But it could hardly be otherwise with speeches and essays, on\nthe same topic, addressed at intervals, during more than thirty years,\nto widely distant and different hearers and readers. The oldest piece,\nthat \"On the Educational Value of the Natural History Sciences,\"\ncontains some crudities, which I repudiated when the lecture was first\nreprinted, more than twenty years ago; but it will be seen that much of\nwhat I have had to say, later on in life, is merely a development of\nthe propositions enunciated in this early and sadly-imperfect piece of\nwork.\n\nIn view of the recent attempt to disturb the compromise about the\nteaching of dogmatic theology, solemnly agreed to by the first School\nBoard for London, the fifteenth Essay; and, more particularly, the note\nn. 3, may be found interesting.\n\nT. H. H.\n\nHodeslea, Eastbourne, _September 4th, 1893_.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nI  JOSEPH PRIESTLEY [1874]\n(An Address delivered on the occasion of the presentation of a statue\nof Priestley to the town of Birmingham)\n\n\nII ON THE EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF THE NATURAL HISTORY SCIENCES [1854]\n(An Address delivered in S. Martin's Hall)\n\n\nIII EMANCIPATION--BLACK AND WHITE [1865]\n\n\nIV A LIBERAL EDUCATION; AND WHERE TO FIND IT [1868]\n(An Address to the South London Working Men's College)\n\n\nV SCIENTIFIC EDUCATION: NOTES OF AN AFTER-DINNER SPEECH [1869]\n(Liverpool Philomathic Society)\n\n\nVI SCIENCE AND CULTURE [1880]\n(An Address delivered at the opening of Sir Josiah Mason's Science\nCollege, Birmingham)\n\nVII ON SCIENCE AND ART IN RELATION TO EDUCATION [1882]\n(An Address to the members of the Liverpool Institution)\n\n\nVIII UNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL [1874]\n(Rectorial Address, Aberdeen)\n\n\nIX ADDRESS ON UNIVERSITY EDUCATION [1876]\n(Delivered at the opening of the Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore)\n\n\nX ON THE STUDY OF BIOLOGY [1876]\n(A Lecture in connection with the Loan Collection of Scientific\nApparatus, South Kensington Museum)\n\n\nXI ON ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PHYSIOLOGY [1877]\n\n\nXII ON MEDICAL EDUCATION [1870]\n(An Address to the students of the Faculty of Medicine in University\nCollege, London)\n\n\nXIII THE STATE AND THE MEDICAL PROFESSION [1884]\n\n\nXIV THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE [1881]\n(An Address to the International Medical Congress)\n\n\nXV THE SCHOOL BOARDS: WHAT THEY CAN DO, AND WHAT THEY MAY DO [1870]\n\n\nXVI TECHNICAL EDUCATION [1877]\n\n\nXVII ADDRESS ON BEHALF OF THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE PROMOTION OF\nTECHNICAL EDUCATION [1887]\n\n\n\n\n\nCOLLECTED ESSAYS\n\nVOLUME III\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nJOSEPH PRIESTLEY\n\n[1874]\n\n\nIf the man to perpetuate whose memory we have this day raised a statue\nhad been asked on what part of his busy life's work he set the highest\nvalue, he would undoubtedly have pointed to his voluminous\ncontributions to theology. In season and out of season, he was the\nsteadfast champion of that hypothesis respecting the Divine nature\nwhich is termed Unitarianism by its friends and Socinianism by its\nfoes. Regardless of odds, he was ready to do battle with all comers in\nthat cause; and if no adversaries entered the lists, he would sally\nforth to seek them.\n\nTo this, his highest ideal of duty, Joseph Priestley sacrificed the\nvulgar prizes of life, which, assuredly, were within easy reach of a\nman of his singular energy and varied abilities. For this object he put\naside, as of secondary importance, those scientific investigations\nwhich he loved so well, and in which he showed himself so competent to\nenlarge the boundaries of natural knowledge and to win fame. In this\ncause he not only cheerfully suffered obloquy from the bigoted and the\nunthinking, and came within sight of martyrdom; but bore with that\nwhich is much harder to be borne than all these, the unfeigned\nastonishment and hardly disguised contempt of a brilliant society,\ncomposed of men whose sympathy and esteem must have been most dear to\nhim, and to whom it was simply incomprehensible that a philosopher\nshould seriously occupy himself with any form of Christianity.\n\nIt appears to me that the man who, setting before himself such an ideal\nof life, acted up to it consistently, is worthy of the deepest respect,\nwhatever opinion may be entertained as to the real value of the tenets\nwhich he so zealously propagated and defended.\n\nBut I am sure that I speak not only for myself, but for all this\nassemblage, when I say that our purpose to-day is to do honour, not to\nPriestley, the Unitarian divine, but to Priestley, the fearless\ndefender of rational freedom in thought and in action: to Priestley,\nthe philosophic thinker; to that Priestley who held a foremost place\namong \"the swift runners who hand over the lamp of life,\" [1] and\ntransmit from one generation to another the fire kindled,\nin the childhood of the world, at the Promethean altar of Science.\n\nThe main incidents of Priestley's life are so well known that I need\ndwell upon them at no great length.\n\nBorn in 1733, at Fieldhead, near Leeds, and brought up among Calvinists\nof the straitest orthodoxy, the boy's striking natural ability led to\nhis being devoted to the profession of a minister of religion; and, in\n1752, he was sent to the Dissenting Academy at Daventry--an institution\nwhich authority left undisturbed, though its existence contravened the\nlaw. The teachers under whose instruction and influence the young man\ncame at Daventry, carried out to the letter the injunction to \"try all\nthings: hold fast that which is good,\" and encouraged the discussion of\nevery imaginable proposition with complete freedom, the leading\nprofessors taking opposite sides; a discipline which, admirable as it\nmay be from a purely scientific point of view, would seem to be\ncalculated to make acute, rather than sound, divines. Priestley tells\nus, in his \"Autobiography,\" that he generally found himself on the\nunorthodox side: and, as he grew older, and his faculties attained\ntheir maturity, this native tendency towards heterodoxy grew with his\ngrowth and strengthened with his strength. He passed from Calvinism to\nArianism; and finally, in middle life, landed in that very broad form\nof Unitarianism by which his craving after a credible and consistent\ntheory of things was satisfied.\n\nOn leaving Daventry Priestley became minister of a congregation, first\nat Needham Market, and secondly at Nantwich; but whether on account of\nhis heterodox opinions, or of the stuttering which impeded his\nexpression of them in the pulpit, little success attended his efforts\nin this capacity. In 1761, a career much more suited to his abilities\nbecame open to him. He was appointed \"tutor in the languages\" in the\nDissenting Academy at Warrington, in which capacity, besides giving\nthree courses of lectures, he taught Latin, Greek, French, and Italian,\nand read lectures on the theory of language and universal grammar, on\noratory, philosophical criticism, and civil law. And it is interesting\nto observe that, as a teacher, he encouraged and cherished in those\nwhom he instructed the freedom which he had enjoyed, in his own student\ndays, at Daventry. One of his pupils tells us that,\n\n    \"At the conclusion of his lecture, he always encouraged his\n    students to express their sentiments relative to the subject of it,\n    and to urge any objections to what he had delivered, without\n    reserve. It pleased him when any one commenced such a conversation.\n    In order to excite the freest discussion, he occasionally invited\n    the students to drink tea with him, in order to canvass the\n    subjects of his lectures. I do not recollect that he ever showed\n    the least displeasure at the strongest objections that were made to\n    what he delivered, but I distinctly remember the smile of\n    approbation with which he usually received them: nor did he fail to\n    point out, in a very encouraging manner, the ingenuity or force of\n    any remarks that were made, when they merited these characters. His\n    object, as well as Dr. Aikin's, was to engage the students to\n    examine and decide for themselves, uninfluenced by the sentiments\n    of any other persons.\" [2]\n\nIt would be difficult to give a better description of a model teacher\nthan that conveyed in these words.\n\nFrom his earliest days, Priestley had shown a strong bent towards the\nstudy of nature; and his brother Timothy tells us that the boy put\nspiders into bottles, to see how long they would live in the same\nair--a curious anticipation of the investigations of his later years.\nAt Nantwich, where he set up a school, Priestley informs us that he\nbought an air pump, an electrical machine, and other instruments, in\nthe use of which he instructed his scholars. But he does not seem to\nhave devoted himself seriously to physical science until 1766, when he\nhad the great good fortune to meet Benjamin Franklin, whose friendship\nhe ever afterwards enjoyed. Encouraged by Franklin, he wrote a \"History\nof Electricity,\" which was published in 1767, and appears to have met\nwith considerable success.\n\nIn the same year, Priestley left Warrington to become the minister of a\ncongregation at Leeds; and, here, happening to live next door to a\npublic brewery, as he says,\n\n    \"I, at first, amused myself with making experiments on the fixed\n    air which I found ready-made in the process of fermentation. When I\n    removed from that house I was under the necessity of making fixed\n    air for myself; and one experiment leading to another, as I have\n    distinctly and faithfully noted in my various publications on the\n    subject, I by degrees contrived a convenient apparatus for the\n    purpose, but of the cheapest kind.\n\n    \"When I began these experiments I knew very little of _chemistry_,\n    and had, in a manner, no idea on the subject before I attended a\n    course of chemical lectures, delivered in the Academy at\n    Warrington, by Dr. Turner of Liverpool. But I have often thought\n    that, upon the whole, this circumstance was no disadvantage to me;\n    as, in this situation, I was led to devise an apparatus and\n    processes of my own, adapted to my peculiar views; whereas, if I\n    had been previously accustomed to the usual chemical processes, I\n    should not have so easily thought of any other, and without new\n    modes of operation, I should hardly have discovered anything\n    materially new.\" [3]\n\nThe first outcome of Priestley's chemical work, published in 1772, was\nof a very practical character. He discovered the way of impregnating\nwater with an excess of \"fixed air,\" or carbonic acid, and thereby\nproducing what we now know as \"soda water\"--a service to naturally, and\nstill more to artificially, thirsty souls, which those whose parched\nthroats and hot heads are cooled by morning draughts of that beverage,\ncannot too gratefully acknowledge. In the same year, Priestley\ncommunicated the extensive series of observations which his industry\nand ingenuity had accumulated, in the course of four years, to the\nRoyal Society, under the title of \"Observations on Different Kinds of\nAir\"--a memoir which was justly regarded of so much merit and\nimportance, that the Society at once conferred upon the author the\nhighest distinction in their power, by awarding him the Copley Medal.\n\nIn 1771 a proposal was made to Priestley to accompany Captain Cook in\nhis second voyage to the South Seas. He accepted it, and his\ncongregation agreed to pay an assistant to supply his place during his\nabsence. But the appointment lay in the hands of the Board of\nLongitude, of which certain clergymen were members; and whether these\nworthy ecclesiastics feared that Priestley's presence among the ship's\ncompany might expose His Majesty's sloop _Resolution_ to the fate\nwhich aforetime befell a certain ship that went from Joppa to Tarshish;\nor whether they were alarmed lest a Socinian should undermine that\npiety which, in the days of Commodore Trunnion, so strikingly\ncharacterised sailors, does not appear; but, at any rate, they objected\nto Priestley \"on account of his religious principles,\" and appointed\nthe two Forsters, whose \"religious principles,\" if they had been known\nto these well-meaning but not far-sighted persons, would probably have\nsurprised them.\n\nIn 1772 another proposal was made to Priestley. Lord Shelburne,\ndesiring a \"literary companion,\" had been brought into communication\nwith Priestley by the good offices of a friend of both, Dr. Price; and\noffered him the nominal post of librarian, with a good house and\nappointments, and an annuity in case of the termination of the\nengagement. Priestley accepted the offer, and remained with Lord\nShelburne for seven years, sometimes residing at Calne, sometimes\ntravelling abroad with the Earl.\n\nWhy the connection terminated has never been exactly known; but it is\ncertain that Lord Shelburne behaved with the utmost consideration and\nkindness towards Priestley; that he fulfilled his engagements to the\nletter; and that, at a later period, he expressed a desire that\nPriestley should return to his old footing in his house. Probably\nenough, the politician, aspiring to the highest offices in the State,\nmay have found the position of the protector of a man who was being\ndenounced all over the country as an infidel and an atheist somewhat\nembarrassing. In fact, a passage in Priestley's \"Autobiography\" on the\noccasion of the publication of his \"Disquisitions relating to Matter\nand Spirit,\" which took place in 1777, indicates pretty clearly the\nstate of the case:--\n\n    \"(126) It being probable that this publication would be unpopular,\n    and might be the means of bringing odium on my patron, several\n    attempts were made by his friends, though none by himself, to\n    dissuade me from persisting in it. But being, as I thought, engaged\n    in the cause of important truth, I proceeded without regard to any\n    consequences, assuring them that this publication should not be\n    injurious to his lordship.\"\n\nIt is not unreasonable to suppose that his lordship, as a keen,\npractical man of the world, did not derive much satisfaction from this\nassurance. The \"evident marks of dissatisfaction\" which Priestley says\nhe first perceived in his patron in 1778, may well have arisen from the\npeer's not unnatural uneasiness as to what his domesticated, but not\ntamed, philosopher might write next, and what storm might thereby he\nbrought down on his own head; and it speaks very highly for Lord\nShelburne's delicacy that, in the midst of such perplexities, he made\nnot the least attempt to interfere with Priestley's freedom of action.\nIn 1780, however, he intimated to Dr. Price that he should be glad to\nestablish Priestley on his Irish estates: the suggestion was\ninterpreted, as Lord Shelburne probably intended it should be, and\nPriestley left him, the annuity of \u00a3150 a year, which had been promised\nin view of such a contingency, being punctually paid.\n\nAfter leaving Calne, Priestley spent some little time in London, and\nthen, having settled in Birmingham at the desire of his brother-in-law,\nhe was soon invited to become the minister of a large congregation.\nThis settlement Priestley considered, at the time, to be \"the happiest\nevent of his life.\" And well he might think so; for it gave him\ncompetence and leisure; placed him within reach of the best makers of\napparatus of the day; made him a member of that remarkable \"Lunar\nSociety,\" at whose meetings he could exchange thoughts with such men as\nWatt, Wedgwood, Darwin, and Boulton; and threw open to him the pleasant\nhouse of the Galtons of Barr, where these men, and others of less note,\nformed a society of exceptional charm and intelligence. [4]\n\nBut these halcyon days were ended by a bitter storm. The French\nRevolution broke out. An electric shock ran through the nations;\nwhatever there was of corrupt and retrograde, and, at the same time, a\ngreat deal of what there was of best and noblest, in European society\nshuddered at the outburst of long-pent-up social fires. Men's feelings\nwere excited in a way that we, in this generation, can hardly\ncomprehend. Party wrath and virulence were expressed in a manner\nunparalleled, and it is to be hoped impossible, in our times; and\nPriestley and his friends were held up to public scorn, even in\nParliament, as fomenters of sedition. A \"Church-and-King\" cry was\nraised against the Liberal Dissenters; and, in Birmingham, it was\nintensified and specially directed towards Priestley by a local\ncontroversy, in which he had engaged with his usual vigour. In 1791,\nthe celebration of the second anniversary of the taking of the Bastille\nby a public dinner, with which Priestley had nothing whatever to do,\ngave the signal to the loyal and pious mob, who, unchecked, and indeed\nto some extent encouraged, by those who were responsible for order, had\nthe town at their mercy for three days. The chapels and houses of the\nleading Dissenters were wrecked, and Priestley and his family had to\nfly for their lives, leaving library, apparatus, papers, and all their\npossessions, a prey to the flames.\n\nPriestley never returned to Birmingham. He bore the outrages and losses\ninflicted upon him with extreme patience and sweetness, [5] and betook\nhimself to London. But even his scientific colleagues gave him a cold\nshoulder; and though he was elected minister of a congregation at\nHackney, he felt his position to be insecure, and finally determined on\nemigrating to the United States. He landed in America in 1794; lived\nquietly with his sons at Northumberland, in Pennsylvania, where his\nposterity still flourish; and, clear-headed and busy to the last, died\non the 6th of February 1804.\n\nSuch were the conditions under which Joseph Priestley did the work\nwhich lay before him, and then, as the Norse Sagas say, went out of the\nstory. The work itself was of the most varied kind. No human interest\nwas without its attraction for Priestley, and few men have ever had so\nmany irons in the fire at once; but, though he may have burned his\nfingers a little, very few who have tried that operation have burned\ntheir fingers so little. He made admirable discoveries in science; his\nphilosophical treatises are still well worth reading; his political\nworks are full of insight and replete with the spirit of freedom; and\nwhile all these sparks flew off from his anvil, the controversial\nhammer rained a hail of blows on orthodox priest and bishop. While thus\nengaged, the kindly, cheerful doctor felt no more wrath or\nuncharitableness towards his opponents than a smith does towards his\niron. But if the iron could only speak!--and the priests and bishops\ntook the point of view of the iron.\n\nNo doubt what Priestley's friends repeatedly urged upon him--that he\nwould have escaped the heavier trials of his life and done more for the\nadvancement of knowledge, if he had confined himself to his scientific\npursuits and let his fellow-men go their way--was true. But it seems to\nhave been Priestley's feeling that he was a man and a citizen before he\nwas a philosopher, and that the duties of the two former positions are\nat least as imperative as those of the latter. Moreover, there are men\n(and I think Priestley was one of them) to whom the satisfaction of\nthrowing down a triumphant fallacy is as great as that which attends\nthe discovery of a new truth; who feel better satisfied with the\ngovernment of the world, when they have been helping Providence by\nknocking an imposture on the head; and who care even more for freedom\nof thought than for mere advance of knowledge. These men are the\nCarnots who organise victory for truth, and they are, at least, as\nimportant as the generals who visibly fight her battles in the field.\n\nPriestley's reputation as a man of science rests upon his numerous and\nimportant contributions to the chemistry of gaseous bodies; and to form\na just estimate of the value of his work--of the extent to which it\nadvanced the knowledge of fact and the development of sound theoretical\nviews--we must reflect what chemistry was in the first half of the\neighteenth century.\n\nThe vast science which now passes under that name had no existence.\nAir, water, and fire were still counted among the elemental bodies; and\nthough Van Helmont, a century before, had distinguished different\nkinds of air as _gas ventosum_ and _gas sylvestre_, and Boyle and Hales\nhad experimentally defined the physical properties of air, and\ndiscriminated some of the various kinds of a\u00ebriform bodies, no one\nsuspected the existence of the numerous totally distinct gaseous\nelements which are now known, or dreamed that the air we breathe and\nthe water we drink are compounds of gaseous elements.\n\nBut, in 1754, a young Scotch physician, Dr. Black, made the first\nclearing in this tangled backwood of knowledge. And it gives one a\nwonderful impression of the juvenility of scientific chemistry to think\nthat Lord Brougham, whom so many of us recollect, attended Black's\nlectures when he was a student in Edinburgh. Black's researches gave\nthe world the novel and startling conception of a gas that was a\npermanently elastic fluid like air, but that differed from common air\nin being much heavier, very poisonous, and in having the properties of\nan acid, capable of neutralising the strongest alkalies; and it took\nthe world some time to become accustomed to the notion.\n\nA dozen years later, one of the most sagacious and accurate\ninvestigators who has adorned this, or any other, country, Henry\nCavendish, published a memoir in the \"Philosophical Transactions,\" in\nwhich he deals not only with the \"fixed air\" (now called carbonic acid\nor carbonic anhydride) of Black, but with \"inflammable air,\" or what we\nnow term hydrogen.\n\nBy the rigorous application of weight and measure to all his processes,\nCavendish implied the belief subsequently formulated by Lavoisier,\nthat, in chemical processes, matter is neither created nor destroyed,\nand indicated the path along which all future explorers must travel.\nNor did he himself halt until this path led him, in 1784, to the\nbrilliant and fundamental discovery that water is composed of two gases\nunited in fixed and constant proportions.\n\nIt is a trying ordeal for any man to be compared with Black and\nCavendish, and Priestley cannot be said to stand on their level.\nNevertheless his achievements are not only great in themselves, but\ntruly wonderful, if we consider the disadvantages under which he\nlaboured. Without the careful scientific training of Black, without the\nleisure and appliances secured by the wealth of Cavendish, he scaled\nthe walls of science as so many Englishmen have done before and since\nhis day; and trusting to mother wit to supply the place of training,\nand to ingenuity to create apparatus out of washing tubs, he discovered\nmore new gases than all his predecessors put together had done. He laid\nthe foundations of gas analysis; he discovered the complementary\nactions of animal and vegetable life upon the constituents of the\natmosphere; and, finally, he crowned his work, this day one hundred\nyears ago, by the discovery of that \"pure dephlogisticated air\" to\nwhich the French chemists subsequently gave the name of oxygen. Its\nimportance, as the constituent of the atmosphere which disappears in\nthe processes of respiration and combustion, and is restored by green\nplants growing in sunshine, was proved somewhat later. For these\nbrilliant discoveries, the Royal Society elected Priestley a fellow and\ngave him their medal, while the Academies of Paris and St. Petersburg\nconferred their membership upon him. Edinburgh had made him an honorary\ndoctor of laws at an early period of his career; but, I need hardly\nadd, that a man of Priestley's opinions received no recognition from\nthe universities of his own country.\n\nThat Priestley's contributions to the knowledge of chemical fact were\nof the greatest importance, and that they richly deserve all the praise\nthat has been awarded to them, is unquestionable; but it must, at the\nsame time, be admitted that he had no comprehension of the deeper\nsignificance of his work; and, so far from contributing anything to the\ntheory of the facts which he discovered, or assisting in their rational\nexplanation, his influence to the end of his life was warmly exerted in\nfavour of error. From first to last, he was a stiff adherent of the\nphlogiston doctrine which was prevalent when his studies commenced;\nand, by a curious irony of fate, the man who by the discovery of what\nhe called \"dephlogisticated air\" furnished the essential datum for the\ntrue theory of combustion, of respiration, and of the composition of\nwater, to the end of his days fought against the inevitable corollaries\nfrom his own labours. His last scientific work, published in 1800,\nbears the title, \"The Doctrine of Phlogiston established, and that of\nthe Composition of Water refuted.\"\n\nWhen Priestley commenced his studies, the current belief was, that\natmospheric air, freed from accidental impurities, is a simple\nelementary substance, indestructible and unalterable, as water was\nsupposed to be. When a combustible burned, or when an animal breathed\nin air, it was supposed that a substance, \"phlogiston,\" the matter of\nheat and light, passed from the burning or breathing body into it, and\ndestroyed its powers of supporting life and combustion. Thus, air\ncontained in a vessel in which a lighted candle had gone out, or a\nliving animal had breathed until it could breathe no longer, was called\n\"phlogisticated.\" The same result was supposed to be brought about by\nthe addition of what Priestley called \"nitrous gas\" to common air.\n\nIn the course of his researches, Priestley found that the quantity of\ncommon air which can thus become \"phlogisticated,\" amounts to about\none-fifth the volume of the whole quantity submitted to experiment.\nHence it appeared that common air consists, to the extent of\nfour-fifths of its volume, of air which is already \"phlogisticated\";\nwhile the other fifth is free from phlogiston, or \"dephlogisticated.\"\nOn the other hand, Priestley found that air \"phlogisticated\" by\ncombustion or respiration could be \"dephlogisticated,\" or have the\nproperties of pure common air restored to it, by the action of green\nplants in sunshine. The question, therefore, would naturally arise--as\ncommon air can be wholly phlogisticated by combustion, and converted\ninto a substance which will no longer support combustion, is it\npossible to get air that shall be less phlogisticated than common air,\nand consequently support combustion better than common air does?\n\nNow, Priestley says that, in 1774, the possibility of obtaining air\nless phlogisticated than common air had not occurred to him. [6] But in\npursuing his experiments on the evolution of air from various bodies by\nmeans of heat, it happened that, on the 1st of August 1774, he threw\nthe heat of the sun, by means of a large burning glass which he had\nrecently obtained, upon a substance which was then called _mercurius\ncalcinatus per se_, and which is commonly known as red precipitate.\n\n    \"I presently found that, by means of this lens, air was expelled\n    from it very readily. Having got about three or four times as much\n    as the bulk of my materials, I admitted water to it, and found that\n    it was not imbibed by it. But what surprised me more than I can\n    well express, was that a candle burned in this air with a\n    remarkably vigorous flame, very much like that enlarged flame with\n    which a candle burns in nitrous air, exposed to iron or lime of\n    sulphur; but as I had got nothing like this remarkable appearance\n    from any kind of air besides this particular modification of\n    nitrous air, and I knew no nitrous acid was used in the preparation\n    of _mercurius calcinatus_, I was utterly at a loss how to\n    account for it.\n\n    \"In this case also, though I did not give sufficient attention to\n    the circumstance at that time, the flame of the candle, besides\n    being larger, burned with more splendour and heat than in that\n    species of nitrous air; and a piece of red-hot wood sparkled in it,\n    exactly like paper dipped in a solution of nitre, and it consumed\n    very fast--an experiment which I had never thought of trying with\n    nitrous air.\" [7]\n\nPriestley obtained the same sort of air from red lead, but, as he says\nhimself, he remained in ignorance of the properties of this new kind of\nair for seven months, or until March 1775, when he found that the new\nair behaved with \"nitrous gas\" in the same way as the dephlogisticated\npart of common air does; [8] but that, instead of being diminished to\nfour-fifths, it almost completely vanished, and, therefore, showed\nitself to be \"between five and six times as good as the best common air\nI have ever met with.\" [9] As this new air thus appeared to be\ncompletely free from phlogiston, Priestley called it \"dephlogisticated\nair.\"\n\nWhat was the nature of this air? Priestley found that the same kind of\nair was to be obtained by moistening with the spirit of nitre (which he\nterms nitrous acid) any kind of earth that is free from phlogiston, and\napplying heat; and consequently he says: \"There remained no doubt on my\nmind but that the atmospherical air, or the thing that we breathe,\nconsists of the nitrous acid and earth, with so much phlogiston as is\nnecessary to its elasticity, and likewise so much more as is required\nto bring it from its state of perfect purity to the mean condition in\nwhich we find it.\" [10]\n\nPriestley's view, in fact, is that atmospheric air is a kind of\nsaltpetre, in which the potash is replaced by some unknown earth.\nAnd in speculating on the manner in which saltpetre is formed,\nhe enunciates the hypothesis, \"that nitre is, formed by a real\n_decomposition of the air itself_, the _bases_ that are presented to\nit having, in such circumstances, a nearer affinity with the spirit\nof nitre than that kind of earth with which it is united in the\natmosphere.\" [11]\n\nIt would have been hard for the most ingenious person to have wandered\nfarther from the truth than Priestley does in this hypothesis; and,\nthough Lavoisier undoubtedly treated Priestley very ill, and pretended\nto have discovered dephlogisticated air, or oxygen, as he called it,\nindependently, we can almost forgive him when we reflect how different\nwere the ideas which the great French chemist attached to the body\nwhich Priestley discovered.\n\nThey are like two navigators of whom the first sees a new country, but\ntakes clouds for mountains and mirage for lowlands; while the second\ndetermines its length and breadth, and lays down on a chart its exact\nplace, so that, thenceforth, it serves as a guide to his successors,\nand becomes a secure outpost whence new explorations may be pushed.\n\nNevertheless, as Priestley himself somewhere remarks, the first object\nof physical science is to ascertain facts, and the service which he\nrendered to chemistry by the definite establishment of a large number\nof new and fundamentally important facts, is such as to entitle him to\na very high place among the fathers of chemical science.\n\nIt is difficult to say whether Priestley's philosophical, political,\nor theological views were most responsible for the bitter hatred which\nwas borne to him by a large body of his country-men, [12] and which\nfound its expression in the malignant insinuations in which Burke, to\nhis everlasting shame, indulged in the House of Commons.\n\nWithout containing much that will be new to the readers of Hobbs,\nSpinoza, Collins, Hume, and Hartley, and, indeed, while making no\npretensions to originality, Priestley's \"Disquisitions relating to\nMatter and Spirit,\" and his \"Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity\nIllustrated,\" are among the most powerful, clear, and unflinching\nexpositions of materialism and necessarianism which exist in the\nEnglish language, and are still well worth reading.\n\nPriestley denied the freedom of the will in the sense of its\nself-determination; he denied the existence of a soul distinct from the\nbody; and as a natural consequence, he denied the natural immortality\nof man.\n\nIn relation to these matters English opinion, a century ago, was very\nmuch what it is now.\n\nA man may be a necessarian without incurring graver reproach than that\nimplied in being called a gloomy fanatic, necessarianism, though very\nshocking, having a note of Calvanistic orthodoxy; but, if a man is a\nmaterialist; or, if good authorities say he is and must be so, in spite\nof his assertion to the contrary; or, if he acknowledge himself unable\nto see good reasons for believing in the natural immortality of man,\nrespectable folks look upon him as an unsafe neighbour of a cash-box,\nas an actual or potential sensualist, the more virtuous in outward\nseeming, the more certainly loaded with secret \"grave personal sins.\"\n\nNevertheless, it is as certain as anything can be, that Joseph\nPriestley was no gloomy fanatic, but as cheerful and kindly a soul as\never breathed, the idol of children; a man who was hated only by those\nwho did not know him, and who charmed away the bitterest prejudices in\npersonal intercourse; a man who never lost a friend, and the best\ntestimony to whose worth is the generous and tender warmth with which\nhis many friends vied with one another in rendering him substantial\nhelp, in all the crises of his career.\n\nThe unspotted purity of Priestley's life, the strictness of his\nperformance of every duty, his transparent sincerity, the\nunostentatious and deep-seated piety which breathes through all his\ncorrespondence, are in themselves a sufficient refutation of the\nhypothesis, invented by bigots to cover uncharitableness, that such\nopinions as his must arise from moral defects. And his statue will do\nas good service as the brazen image that was set upon a pole before the\nIsraelites, if those who have been bitten by the fiery serpents of\nsectarian hatred, which still haunt this wilderness of a world, are\nmade whole by looking upon the image of a heretic who was yet a saint.\n\nThough Priestley did not believe in the natural immortality of man, he\nheld with an almost na\u00efve realism that man would be raised from the\ndead by a direct exertion of the power of God, and thenceforward be\nimmortal. And it may be as well for those who may be shocked by this\ndoctrine to know that views, substantially identical with Priestley's,\nhave been advocated, since his time, by two prelates of the Anglican\nChurch: by Dr. Whately, Archbishop of Dublin, in his well-known\n\"Essays\"; [13] and by Dr. Courtenay, Bishop of Kingston in Jamaica,\nthe first edition of whose remarkable book \"On the Future States,\"\ndedicated to Archbishop Whately, was published in 1843 and the second\nin 1857. According to Bishop Courtenay,\n\n    \"The death of the body will cause a cessation of all the activity\n    of the mind by way of natural consequence; to continue for ever\n    UNLESS the Creator should interfere.\"\n\nAnd again:--\n\n    \"The natural end of human existence is the 'first death, the\n    dreamless slumber of the grave, wherein man lies spell-bound, soul\n    and body, under the dominion of sin and death--that whatever modes\n    of conscious existence, whatever future states of 'life' or of\n    'torment' beyond Hades are reserved for man, are results of our\n    blessed Lord's victory over sin and death; that the resurrection of\n    the dead must be preliminary to their entrance into either of the\n    future states, and that the nature and even existence of these\n    states, and even the mere fact that there is a futurity of\n    consciousness, can be known _only_ through God's revelation of\n    Himself in the Person and the Gospel of His Son.\"--P. 389.\n\nAnd now hear Priestley:--\n\n    \"Man, according to this system (of materialism), is no more than we\n    now see of him. His being commences at the time of his conception,\n    or perhaps at an earlier period. The corporeal and mental faculties,\n    in being in the same substance, grow, ripen, and decay together; and\n    whenever the system is dissolved it continues in a state of\n    dissolution till it shall please that Almighty Being who called it\n    into existence to restore it to life again.\"--\"Matter and Spirit,\"\n    p. 49.\n\nAnd again:--\n\n    \"The doctrine of the Scripture is, that God made man of the dust of\n    the ground, and by simply animating this organised matter, made man\n    that living percipient and intelligent being that he is. According\n    to Revelation, _death_ is a state of rest and insensibility,\n    and our only though sure hope of a future life is founded on the\n    doctrine of the resurrection of the whole man at some distant\n    period; this assurance being sufficiently confirmed to us both by\n    the evident tokens of a Divine commission attending the persons who\n    delivered the doctrine, and especially by the actual resurrection of\n    Jesus Christ, which is more authentically attested than any other\n    fact in history.\"--_Ibid_., p. 247.\n\nWe all know that \"a saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn;\" but it is\nnot yet admitted that the views which are consistent with such\nsaintliness in lawn, become diabolical when held by a mere dissenter.\n[14]\n\nI am not here either to defend or to attack Priestley's philosophical\nviews, and I cannot say that I am personally disposed to attach much\nvalue to episcopal authority in philosophical questions; but it seems\nright to call attention to the fact, that those of Priestley's opinions\nwhich have brought most odium upon him have been openly promulgated,\nwithout challenge, by persons occupying the highest positions in the\nState Church.\n\nI must confess that what interests me most about Priestley's\nmaterialism, is the evidence that he saw dimly the seed of destruction\nwhich such materialism carries within its own bosom. In the course of\nhis reading for his \"History of Discoveries relating to Vision, Light,\nand Colours,\" he had come upon the speculations of Boscovich and\nMichell, and had been led to admit the sufficiently obvious truth that\nour knowledge of matter is a knowledge of its properties; and that of\nits substance--if it have a substance--we know nothing. And this led to\nthe further admission that, so far as we can know, there may be no\ndifference between the substance of matter and the substance of spirit\n(\"Disquisitions,\" p. 16). A step farther would have shown Priestley\nthat his materialism was, essentially, very little different from the\nIdealism of his contemporary, the Bishop of Cloyne.\n\nAs Priestley's philosophy is mainly a clear statement of the views of\nthe deeper thinkers of his day, so are his political conceptions based\nupon those of Locke. Locke's aphorism that \"the end of government is\nthe good of mankind,\" is thus expanded by Priestley:--\n\n    \"It must necessarily be understood, therefore, whether it be\n    expressed or not, that all people live in society for their mutual\n    advantage; so that the good and happiness of the members, that is,\n    of the majority of the members, of any state, is the great standard\n    by which everything relating to that state must finally be\n    determined.\" [15]\n\nThe little sentence here interpolated, \"that is, of the majority of the\nmembers of any state,\" appears to be that passage which suggested to\nBentham, according to his own acknowledgment, the famous \"greatest\nhappiness\" formula, which by substituting \"happiness\" for \"good,\" has\nconverted a noble into an ignoble principle. But I do not call to mind\nthat there is any utterance in Locke quite so outspoken as the\nfollowing passage in the \"Essay on the First Principles of\nGovernment.\" After laying down as \"a fundamental maxim in all\nGovernments,\" the proposition that \"kings, senators, and nobles\" are\n\"the servants of the public,\" Priestley goes on to say:--\n\n    \"But in the largest states, if the abuses of the government should\n    at any time be great and manifest; if the servants of the people,\n    forgetting their masters and their masters' interest, should pursue\n    a separate one of their own; if, instead of considering that they\n    are made for the people, they should consider the people as made\n    for them; if the oppressions and violation of right should be\n    great, flagrant, and universally resented; if the tyrannical\n    governors should have no friends but a few sycophants, who had long\n    preyed upon the vitals of their fellow-citizens, and who might be\n    expected to desert a government whenever their interests should be\n    detached from it: if, in consequence of these circumstances, it\n    should become manifest that the risk which would be run in\n    attempting a revolution would be trifling, and the evils which\n    might be apprehended from it were far less than those which\n    were actually suffered and which were daily increasing; in the name\n    of God, I ask, what principles are those which ought to restrain an\n    injured and insulted people from asserting their natural rights,\n    and from changing or even punishing their governors--that is, their\n    servants--who had abused their trust, or from altering the whole\n    form of their government, if it appeared to be of a structure so\n    liable to abuse?\"\n\nAs a Dissenter, subject to the operation of the Corporation and Test\nActs, and as a Unitarian excluded from the benefit of the Toleration\nAct, it is not surprising to find that Priestley had very definite\nopinions about Ecclesiastical Establishments; the only wonder is that\nthese opinions were so moderate as the following passages show them to\nhave been:--\n\n    \"Ecclesiastical authority may have been necessary in the infant\n    state of society, and, for the same reason, it may perhaps continue\n    to be, in some degree, necessary as long as society is imperfect;\n    and therefore may not be entirely abolished till civil governments\n    have arrived at a much greater degree of perfection. If, therefore,\n    I were asked whether I should approve of the immediate dissolution\n    of all the ecclesiastical establishments in Europe, I should\n    answer, No.... Let experiment be first made of _alterations_,\n    or, which is the same thing, of _better establishments_ than\n    the present. Let them be reformed in many essential articles, and\n    then not thrown aside entirely till it be found by experience that\n    no good can be made of them.\"\n\nPriestley goes on to suggest four such reforms of a capital nature:--\n\n    \"1. Let the Articles of Faith to be subscribed by candidates for\n    the ministry be greatly reduced. In the formulary of the Church of\n    England, might not thirty-eight out of the thirty-nine be very well\n    spared? It is a reproach to any Christian establishment if every\n    man cannot claim the benefit of it who can say that he believes\n    in the religion of Jesus Christ as it is set forth in the New\n    Testament. You say the terms are so general that even Deists would\n    quibble and insinuate themselves. I answer that all the articles\n    which are subscribed at present by no means exclude Deists who will\n    prevaricate; and upon this scheme you would at least exclude fewer\n    honest men.\" [16]\n\nThe second reform suggested is the equalisation, in proportion to work\ndone, of the stipends of the clergy; the third, the exclusion of the\nBishops from Parliament; and the fourth, complete toleration, so that\nevery man may enjoy the rights of a citizen, and be qualified to serve\nhis country, whether he belong to the Established Church or not.\n\nOpinions such as those I have quoted, respecting the duties and the\nresponsibilities of governors, are the commonplaces of modern\nLiberalism; and Priestley's views on Ecclesiastical Establishments\nwould, I fear, meet with but a cool reception, as altogether too\nconservative, from a large proportion of the lineal descendants of the\npeople who taught their children to cry \"Damn Priestley;\" and with that\nlove for the practical application of science which is the source of\nthe greatness of Birmingham, tried to set fire to the doctor's house\nwith sparks from his own electrical machine; thereby giving the man\nthey called an incendiary and raiser of sedition against Church and\nKing, an appropriately experimental illustration of the nature of arson\nand riot.\n\nIf I have succeeded in putting before you the main features of\nPriestley's work, its value will become apparent when we compare the\ncondition of the English nation, as he knew it, with its present state.\n\nThe fact that France has been for eighty-five years trying, without\nmuch success, to right herself after the great storm of the Revolution,\nis not unfrequently cited among us as an indication of some inherent\nincapacity for self-government among the French people. I think,\nhowever, that Englishmen who argue thus, forget that, from the meeting\nof the Long Parliament in 1640, to the last Stuart rebellion in 1745,\nis a hundred and five years, and that, in the middle of the last\ncentury, we had but just safely freed ourselves from our Bourbons and\nall that they represented. The corruption of our state was as bad as\nthat of the Second Empire. Bribery was the instrument of government,\nand peculation its reward. Four-fifths of the seats in the House of\nCommons were more or less openly dealt with as property. A minister had\nto consider the state of the vote market, and the sovereign secured a\nsufficiency of \"king's friends\" by payments allotted with retail,\nrather than royal, sagacity.\n\nBarefaced and brutal immorality and intemperance pervaded the land,\nfrom the highest to the lowest classes of society. The Established\nChurch was torpid, as far as it was not a scandal; but those who\ndissented from it came within the meshes of the Act of Uniformity, the\nTest Act, and the Corporation Act. By law, such a man as Priestley,\nbeing a Unitarian, could neither teach nor preach, and was liable to\nruinous fines and long imprisonment. [17] In those days the guns that\nwere pointed by the Church against the Dissenters were shotted. The law\nwas a cesspool of iniquity and cruelty. Adam Smith was a new prophet\nwhom few regarded, and commerce was hampered by idiotic impediments,\nand ruined by still more absurd help, on the part of government.\n\nBirmingham, though already the centre of a considerable industry, was a\nmere village as compared with its present extent. People who travelled\nwent about armed, by reason of the abundance of highwaymen and the\npaucity and inefficiency of the police. Stage coaches had not reached\nBirmingham, and it took three days to get to London. Even canals were a\nrecent and much opposed invention.\n\nNewton had laid the foundation of a mechanical conception of the\nphysical universe: Hartley, putting a modern face upon ancient\nmaterialism, had extended that mechanical conception to psychology;\nLinnaeus and Haller were beginning to introduce method and order into\nthe chaotic accumulation of biological facts. But those parts of\nphysical science which deal with heat, electricity, and magnetism, and\nabove all, chemistry, in the modern sense, can hardly be said to have\nhad an existence. No one knew that two of the old elemental bodies, air\nand water, are compounds, and that a third, fire, is not a substance\nbut a motion. The great industries that have grown out of the\napplications of modern scientific discoveries had no existence, and the\nman who should have foretold their coming into being in the days of his\nson, would have been regarded as a mad enthusiast.\n\nIn common with many other excellent persons, Priestley believed that\nman is capable of reaching, and will eventually attain, perfection. If\nthe temperature of space presented no obstacle, I should be glad to\nentertain the same idea; but judging from the past progress of our\nspecies, I am afraid that the globe will have cooled down so far,\nbefore the advent of this natural millennium, that we shall be, at\nbest, perfected Esquimaux. For all practical purposes, however, it is\nenough that man may visibly improve his condition in the course of a\ncentury or so. And, if the picture of the state of things in\nPriestley's time, which I have just drawn, have any pretence to\naccuracy, I think it must be admitted that there has been a\nconsiderable change for the better.\n\nI need not advert to the well-worn topic of material advancement, in a\nplace in which the very stones testify to that progress--in the town of\nWatt and of Boulton. I will only remark, in passing, that material\nadvancement has its share in moral and intellectual progress. Becky\nSharp's acute remark that it is not difficult to be virtuous on ten\nthousand a year, has its application to nations; and it is futile to\nexpect a hungry and squalid population to be anything but violent and\ngross. But as regards other than material welfare, although perfection\nis not yet in sight--even from the mast-head--it is surely true that\nthings are much better than they were.\n\nTake the upper and middle classes as a whole, and it may be said that\nopen immorality and gross intemperance have vanished. Four and six\nbottle men are as extinct as the dodo. Women of good repute do not\ngamble, and talk modelled upon Dean Swift's \"Art of Polite\nConversation\" would be tolerated in no decent kitchen.\n\nMembers of the legislature are not to be bought; and constituents are\nawakening to the fact that votes must not be sold--even for such\ntrifles as rabbits and tea and cake. Political power has passed into\nthe hands of the masses of the people. Those whom Priestley calls their\nservants have recognised their position, and have requested the master\nto be so good as to go to school and fit himself for the administration\nof his property. In ordinary life, no civil disability attaches to any\none on theological grounds, and high offices of the state are open to\nPapist, Jew, and Secularist.\n\nWhatever men's opinions as to the policy of Establishment, no one can\nhesitate to admit that the clergy of the Church are men of pure life\nand conversation, zealous in the discharge of their duties; and at\npresent, apparently, more bent on prosecuting one another than on\nmeddling with Dissenters. Theology itself has broadened so much, that\nAnglican divines put forward doctrines more liberal than those of\nPriestley; and, in our state-supported churches, one listener may hear\na sermon to which Bossuet might have given his approbation, while\nanother may hear a discourse in which Socrates would find nothing new.\n\nBut great as these changes may be, they sink into insignificance beside\nthe progress of physical science, whether we consider the improvement\nof methods of investigation, or the increase in bulk of solid\nknowledge. Consider that the labours of Laplace, of Young, of Davy, and\nof Faraday; of Cuvier, of Lamarck, and of Robert Brown; of Von Baer,\nand of Schwann; of Smith and of Hutton, have all been carried on since\nPriestley discovered oxygen; and consider that they are now things of\nthe past, concealed by the industry of those who have built upon them,\nas the first founders of a coral reef are hidden beneath the life's\nwork of their successors; consider that the methods of physical science\nare slowly spreading into all investigations, and that proofs as valid\nas those required by her canons of investigation are being demanded of\nall doctrines which ask for men's assent; and you will have a faint\nimage of the astounding difference in this respect between the\nnineteenth century and the eighteenth.\n\nIf we ask what is the deeper meaning of all these vast changes, I think\nthere can be but one reply. They mean that reason has asserted and\nexercised her primacy over all provinces of human activity: that\necclesiastical authority has been relegated to its proper place; that\nthe good of the governed has been finally recognised as the end of\ngovernment, and the complete responsibility of governors to the people\nas its means; and that the dependence of natural phenomena in general\non the laws of action of what we call matter has become an axiom.\n\nBut it was to bring these things about, and to enforce the recognition\nof these truths, that Joseph Priestley laboured. If the nineteenth\ncentury is other and better than the eighteenth, it is, in great\nmeasure, to him, and to such men as he, that we owe the change. If the\ntwentieth century is to be better than the nineteenth, it will be\nbecause there are among us men who walk in Priestley's footsteps.\n\nSuch men are not those whom their own generation delights to honour;\nsuch men, in fact, rarely trouble themselves about honour, but ask, in\nanother spirit than Falstaff's, \"What is honour? Who hath it? He that\ndied o' Wednesday.\" But whether Priestley's lot be theirs, and a future\ngeneration, in justice and in gratitude, set up their statues; or\nwhether their names and fame are blotted out from remembrance, their\nwork will live as long as time endures. To all eternity, the sum of\ntruth and right will have been increased by their means; to all\neternity, falsehood and injustice will be the weaker because they have\nlived.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] \"Quasi cursores, vitai lampada tradunt.\"--LUCR. _De Rerum Nat_. ii.\n78.\n\n[2] _Life and Correspondence of Dr. Priestley_, by J. T. Rutt. Vol. I.\np. 50.\n\n[3] _Autobiography_, \u00a7\u00a7 100, 101.\n\n[4] See _The Life of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck_. Mrs.\nSchimmelpenninck (_n\u00e9e_ Galton) remembered Priestley very well,\nand her description of him is worth quotation:--\"A man of admirable\nsimplicity, gentleness and kindness of heart, united with great\nacuteness of intellect. I can never forget the impression produced on\nme by the serene expression of his countenance. He, indeed, seemed\npresent with God by recollection, and with man by cheerfulness. I\nremember that, in the assembly of these distinguished men, amongst whom\nMr. Boulton, by his noble manner, his fine countenance (which much\nresembled that of Louis XIV.), and princely munificence, stood\npre-eminently as the great Mecaenas; even as a child, I used to feel,\nwhen Dr. Priestley entered after him, that the glory of the one was\nterrestrial, that of the other celestial; and utterly far as I am\nremoved from a belief in the sufficiency of Dr. Priestley's theological\ncreed, I cannot but here record this evidence of the eternal power of\nany portion of the truth held in its vitality.\"\n\n[5] Even Mrs. Priestley, who might be forgiven for regarding the\ndestroyers of her household gods with some asperity, contents herself,\nin writing to Mrs. Barbauld, with the sarcasm that the Birmingham\npeople \"will scarcely find so many respectable characters, a second\ntime, to make a bonfire of.\"\n\n[6] _Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air_, vol.\nii. p. 31.\n\n[7] _Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air_, vol.\nii. pp. 34, 35.\n\n[8] _Ibid_. vol. i. p. 40.\n\n[9] _Experiments and Observations on Different Kinds of Air_, vol. ii.\np. 48.\n\n[10] _Ibid_. p. 55.\n\n[11] _Ibid_. p. 60. The italics are Priestley's own.\n\n[12] \"In all the newspapers and most of the periodical publications I\nwas represented as an unbeliever in Revelation, and no better than an\natheist.\"--_Autobiography_, Rutt, vol i. p. 124. \"On the walls of\nhouses, etc., and especially where I usually went, were to be seen, in\nlarge characters, 'MADAN FOR EVER; DAMN PRIESTLEY; NO PRESBYTERIANISM;\nDAMN THE PRESBYTERIANS,' etc., etc.; and, at one time, I was followed\nby a number of boys, who left their play, repeating what they had seen\non the walls, and shouting out, '_Damn Priestley; damn him, damn\nhim, for ever, for ever,_' etc., etc. This was no doubt a lesson\nwhich they had been taught by their parents, and what they, I fear, had\nlearned from their superiors.\"--_Appeal to the Public on the Subject\nof the Riots at Birmingham_.\n\n[13] First Series. _On Some of the Peculiarities of the Christian\nReligion_. Essay I. \"Revelation of a Future State.\"\n\n[14] Not only is Priestley at one with Bishop Courtenay in this matter,\nbut with Hartley and Bonnet, both of them stout champions of\nChristianity. Moreover, Archbishop Whately's essay is little better\nthan an expansion of the first paragraph of Hume's famous essay on the\nImmortality of the Soul:--\"By the mere light of reason it seems\ndifficult to prove the immortality of the soul; the arguments for it\nare commonly derived either from metaphysical topics, or moral, or\nphysical. But it is in reality the Gospel, and the Gospel alone, that\nhas brought _life and immortality to light_.\" It is impossible to\nimagine that a man of Whately's tastes and acquirements had not read\nHume or Hartley, though he refers to neither.\n\n[15] _Essay on the First Principles of Government_, Second edition,\n1771.\n\n[16] \"Utility of Establishments,\" in _Essay on First Principles of\nGovernment_, 1771.\n\n[17] In 1732 Doddridge was cited for teaching without the Bishop's\nleave, at Northampton.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nON THE EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF THE NATURAL HISTORY SCIENCES\n\n[1854]\n\n\nThe subject to which I have to beg your attention during the ensuing\nhour is \"The Relation of Physiological Science to other branches of\nKnowledge.\"\n\nHad circumstances permitted of the delivery, in their strict logical\norder, of that series of discourses of which the present lecture is a\nmember, I should have preceded my friend and colleague Mr. Henfrey, who\naddressed you on Monday last; but while, for the sake of that order, I\nmust beg you to suppose that this discussion of the Educational\nbearings of Biology in general _does_ precede that of Special\nZoology and Botany, I am rejoiced to be able to take advantage\nof the light thus already thrown upon the tendency and methods of\nPhysiological Science.\n\nRegarding Physiological Science, then, in its widest sense--as the\nequivalent of _Biology_--the Science of Individual Life--we have to\nconsider in succession:\n\n1. Its position and scope as a branch of knowledge.\n\n2. Its value as a means of mental discipline.\n\n3. Its worth as practical information.\n\nAnd lastly,\n\n4. At what period it may best be made a branch of Education.\n\nOur conclusions on the first of these heads must depend, of course,\nupon the nature of the subject-matter of Biology; and I think a few\npreliminary considerations will place before you in a clear light the\nvast difference which exists between the living bodies with which\nPhysiological science is concerned, and the remainder of the\nuniverse;--between the phaenomena of Number and Space, of Physical and\nof Chemical force, on the one hand, and those of Life on the other.\n\nThe mathematician, the physicist, and the chemist contemplate things in\na condition of rest; they look upon a state of equilibrium as that to\nwhich all bodies normally tend.\n\nThe mathematician does not suppose that a quantity will alter, or that\na given point in space will change its direction with regard to another\npoint, spontaneously. And it is the same with the physicist. When\nNewton saw the apple fall, he concluded at once that the act of falling\nwas not the result of any power inherent in the apple, but that it was\nthe result of the action of something else on the apple. In a similar\nmanner, all physical force is regarded as the disturbance of an\nequilibrium to which things tended before its exertion,--to which they\nwill tend again after its cessation.\n\nThe chemist equally regards chemical change in a body as the effect of\nthe action of something external to the body changed. A chemical\ncompound once formed would persist for ever, if no alteration took\nplace in surrounding conditions.\n\nBut to the student of Life the aspect of Nature is reversed. Here,\nincessant, and, so far as we know, spontaneous change is the rule, rest\nthe exception--the anomaly to be accounted for. Living things have no\ninertia, and tend to no equilibrium.\n\nPermit me, however, to give more force and clearness to these somewhat\nabstract considerations by an illustration or two.\n\nImagine a vessel full of water, at the ordinary temperature, in an\natmosphere saturated with vapour. The _quantity_ and the _figure_ of that\nwater will not change, so far as we know, for ever.\n\nSuppose a lump of gold be thrown into the vessel--motion and\ndisturbance of figure exactly proportional to the momentum of the gold\nwill take place. But after a time the effects of this disturbance will\nsubside--equilibrium will be restored, and the water will return to its\npassive state.\n\nExpose the water to cold--it will solidify--and in so doing its\nparticles will arrange themselves in definite crystalline shapes. But\nonce formed, these crystals change no further.\n\nAgain, substitute for the lump of gold some substance capable of\nentering into chemical relations with the water:--say, a mass of that\nsubstance which is called \"protein\"--the substance of flesh:--a very\nconsiderable disturbance of equilibrium will take place--all sorts of\nchemical compositions and decompositions will occur; but in the end, as\nbefore, the result will be the resumption of a condition of rest.\n\nInstead of such a mass of _dead_ protein, however, take a particle of\n_living_ protein--one of those minute microscopic living things which\nthrong our pools, and are known as Infusoria--such a creature, for\ninstance, as an Euglena, and place it in our vessel of water. It is\na round mass provided with a long filament, and except in this\npeculiarity of shape, presents no appreciable physical or chemical\ndifference whereby it might be distinguished from the particle of dead\nprotein.\n\nBut the difference in the phaenomena to which it will give rise is\nimmense: in the first place it will develop a vast quantity of physical\nforce--cleaving the water in all directions with considerable rapidity\nby means of the vibrations of the long filament or cilium.\n\nNor is the amount of chemical energy which the little creature\npossesses less striking. It is a perfect laboratory in itself, and it\nwill act and react upon the water and the matters contained therein;\nconverting them into new compounds resembling its own substance, and at\nthe same time giving up portions of its own substance which have become\neffete.\n\nFurthermore, the Euglena will increase in size; but this increase is by\nno means unlimited, as the increase of a crystal might be. After it has\ngrown to a certain extent it divides, and each portion assumes the form\nof the original, and proceeds to repeat the process of growth and\ndivision.\n\nNor is this all. For after a series of such divisions and subdivisions,\nthese minute points assume a totally new form, lose their long\ntails--round themselves, and secrete a sort of envelope or box, in\nwhich they remain shut up for a time, eventually to resume, directly or\nindirectly, their primitive mode of existence.\n\nNow, so far as we know, there is no natural limit to the existence of\nthe Euglena, or of any other living germ. A living species once\nlaunched into existence tends to live for ever.\n\nConsider how widely different this living particle is from the dead\natoms with which the physicist and chemist have to do!\n\nThe particle of gold falls to the bottom and rests--the particle of\ndead protein decomposes and disappears--it also rests: but the\n_living_ protein mass neither tends to exhaustion of its forces nor\nto any permanency of form, but is essentially distinguished as a\ndisturber of equilibrium so far as force is concerned,--as undergoing\ncontinual metamorphosis and change, in point of form.\n\nTendency to equilibrium of force and to permanency of form, then, are\nthe characters of that portion of the universe which does not live--the\ndomain of the chemist and physicist.\n\nTendency to disturb existing equilibrium--to take on forms which\nsucceed one another in definite cycles--is the character of the living\nworld.\n\nWhat is the cause of this wonderful difference between the dead\nparticle and the living particle of matter appearing in other respects\nidentical? that difference to which we give the name of Life?\n\nI, for one, cannot tell you. It may be that, by and by, philosophers\nwill discover some higher laws of which the facts of life are\nparticular cases--very possibly they will find out some bond between\nphysico-chemical phaenomena on the one hand, and vital phaenomena on\nthe other. At present, however, we assuredly know of none; and I think\nwe shall exercise a wise humility in confessing that, for us at least,\nthis successive assumption of different states--(external conditions\nremaining the same)--this _spontaneity of action_--if I may use a term\nwhich implies more than I would be answerable for--which constitutes\nso vast and plain a practical distinction between living bodies and\nthose which do not live, is an ultimate fact; indicating as such, the\nexistence of a broad line of demarcation between the subject-matter\nof Biological and that of all other sciences.\n\nFor I would have it understood that this simple Euglena is the type of\n_all_ living things, so far as the distinction between these and\ninert matter is concerned. That cycle of changes, which is constituted\nby perhaps not more than two or three steps in the Euglena, is as\nclearly manifested in the multitudinous stages through which the germ\nof an oak or of a man passes. Whatever forms the Living Being may take\non, whether simple or complex, _production, growth, reproduction,_ are\nthe phaenomena which distinguish it from that which does not live.\n\nIf this be true, it is clear that the student, in passing from the\nphysico-chemical to the physiological sciences, enters upon a totally\nnew order of facts; and it will next be for us to consider how far\nthese new facts involve _new_ methods, or require a modification of\nthose with which he is already acquainted. Now a great deal is said\nabout the peculiarity of the scientific method in general, and of the\ndifferent methods which are pursued in the different sciences. The\nMathematics are said to have one special method; Physics another,\nBiology a third, and so forth. For my own part, I must confess that I\ndo not understand this phraseology.\n\nSo far as I can arrive at any clear comprehension of the matter,\nScience is not, as many would seem to suppose, a modification of the\nblack art, suited to the tastes of the nineteenth century, and\nflourishing mainly in consequence of the decay of the Inquisition.\n\nScience is, I believe, nothing but _trained and organised common\nsense_, differing from the latter only as a veteran may differ from\na raw recruit: and its methods differ from those of common sense only\nso far as the guardsman's cut and thrust differ from the manner in\nwhich a savage wields his club. The primary power is the same in each\ncase, and perhaps the untutored savage has the more brawny arm of\nthe two. The _real_ advantage lies in the point and polish of the\nswordsman's weapon; in the trained eye quick to spy out the weakness of\nthe adversary; in the ready hand prompt to follow it on the instant.\nBut, after all, the sword exercise is only the hewing and poking of the\nclubman developed and perfected.\n\nSo, the vast results obtained by Science are won by no mystical\nfaculties, by no mental processes, other than those which are practised\nby every one of us, in the humblest and meanest affairs of life. A\ndetective policeman discovers a burglar from the marks made by his\nshoe, by a mental process identical with that by which Cuvier restored\nthe extinct animals of Montmartre from fragments of their bones. Nor\ndoes that process of induction and deduction by which a lady, finding a\nstain of a peculiar kind upon her dress, concludes that somebody has\nupset the inkstand thereon, differ in any way, in kind, from that by\nwhich Adams and Leverrier discovered a new planet.\n\nThe man of science, in fact, simply uses with scrupulous exactness the\nmethods which we all, habitually and at every moment, use carelessly;\nand the man of business must as much avail himself of the scientific\nmethod--must be as truly a man of science--as the veriest bookworm of\nus all; though I have no doubt that the man of business will find\nhimself out to be a philosopher with as much surprise as M. Jourdain\nexhibited vhen he discovered that he had been all his life talking\nprose. If, however, there be no real difference between the methods of\nscience and those of common life, it would seem, on the face of the\nmatter, highly improbable that there should be any difference between\nthe methods of the different sciences; nevertheless, it is constantly\ntaken for granted that there is a very wide difference between the\nPhysiological and other sciences in point of method.\n\nIn the first place it is said--and I take this point first, because the\nimputation is too frequently admitted by Physiologists themselves--that\nBiology differs from the Physico-chemical and Mathematical sciences in\nbeing \"inexact.\"\n\nNow, this phrase \"inexact\" must refer either to the _methods_ or to\nthe _results_ of Physiological science.\n\nIt cannot be correct to apply it to the methods; for, as I hope to show\nyou by and by, these are identical in all sciences, and whatever is\ntrue of Physiological method is true of Physical and Mathematical\nmethod.\n\nIs it then the _results_ of Biological science which are \"inexact\"?\nI think not. If I say that respiration is performed by the\nlungs; that digestion is effected in the stomach; that the eye is the\norgan of sight; that the jaws of a vertebrated animal never open\nsideways, but always up and down; while those of an annulose animal\nalways open sideways, and never up and down--I am enumerating\npropositions which are as exact as anything in Euclid. How then has\nthis notion of the inexactness of Biological science come about? I\nbelieve from two causes: first, because in consequence of the great\ncomplexity of the science and the multitude of interfering conditions,\nwe are very often only enabled to predict approximately what will occur\nunder given circumstances; and secondly, because, on account of the\ncomparative youth of the Physiological sciences, a great many of their\nlaws are still imperfectly worked out. But, in an educational point of\nview, it is most important to distinguish between the essence of a\nscience and the accidents which surround it; and essentially, the\nmethods and results of Physiology are as exact as those of Physics or\nMathematics.\n\nIt is said that the Physiological method is especially _comparative_;\n[1] and this dictum also finds favour in the eyes of many.\nI should be sorry to suggest that the speculators on scientific\nclassification have been misled by the accident of the name of one\nleading branch of Biology--_Comparative Anatomy_; but I would ask\nwhether _comparison_, and that classification which is the result of\ncomparison, are not the essence of every science whatsoever? How is it\npossible to discover a relation of cause and effect of _any_ kind\nwithout comparing a series of cases together in which the supposed\ncause and effect occur singly, or combined? So far from comparison\nbeing in any way peculiar to Biological science, it is, I think, the\nessence of every science.\n\nA speculative philosopher again tells us that the Biological\nsciences are distinguished by being sciences of observation and not\nof experiment! [2] Of all the strange assertions into which speculation\nwithout practical acquaintance with a subject may lead even an able\nman, I think this is the very strangest. Physiology not an experimental\nscience? Why, there is not a function of a single organ in the body\nwhich has not been determined wholly and solely by experiment? How did\nHarvey determine the nature of the circulation, except by experiment?\nHow did Sir Charles Bell determine the functions of the roots of the\nspinal nerves, save by experiment? How do we know the use of a nerve at\nall, except by experiment? Nay, how do you know even that your eye is\nyour seeing apparatus, unless you make the experiment of shutting it;\nor that your ear is your hearing apparatus, unless you close it up and\nthereby discover that you become deaf?\n\nIt would really be much more true to say that Physiology is _the_\nexperimental science _par excellence_ of all sciences; that in which\nthere is least to be learnt by mere observation, and that which\naffords the greatest field for the exercise of those faculties which\ncharacterise the experimental philosopher. I confess, if any one were\nto ask me for a model application of the logic of experiment, I should\nknow no better work to put into his hands than Bernard's late\nResearches on the Functions of the Liver. [3]\n\nNot to give this lecture a too controversial tone, however, I must\nonly advert to one more doctrine, held by a thinker of our own age\nand country, whose opinions are worthy of all respect. It is, that\nthe Biological sciences differ from all others, inasmuch as in _them_\nclassification takes place by type and not by definition. [4]\n\nIt is said, in short, that a natural-history class is not capable of\nbeing defined--that the class Rosaceae, for instance, or the class of\nFishes, is not accurately and absolutely definable, inasmuch as its\nmembers will present exceptions to every possible definition; and that\nthe members of the class are united together only by the circumstance\nthat they are all more like some imaginary average rose or average\nfish, than they resemble anything else.\n\nBut here, as before, I think the distinction has arisen entirely from\nconfusing a transitory imperfection with an essential character. So\nlong as our information concerning them is imperfect, we class all\nobjects together according to resemblances which we _feel_, but\ncannot _define_; we group them round _types_, in short. Thus\nif you ask an ordinary person what kinds of animals there are, he will\nprobably say, beasts, birds, reptiles, fishes, insects, &c. Ask him to\ndefine a beast from a reptile, and he cannot do it; but he says, things\nlike a cow or a horse are beasts, and things like a frog or a lizard\nare reptiles. You see _he does_ class by type, and not by definition.\nBut how does this classification differ from that of the\nscientific Zoologist? How does the meaning of the scientific class-name\nof \"Mammalia\" differ from the unscientific of \"Beasts\"?\n\nWhy, exactly because the former depends on a definition, the latter on\na type. The class Mammalia is scientifically defined as \"all animals\nwhich have a vertebrated skeleton and suckle their young.\" Here is no\nreference to type, but a definition rigorous enough for a geometrician.\nAnd such is the character which every scientific naturalist recognises\nas that to which his classes must aspire--knowing, as he does, that\nclassification by type is simply an acknowledgment of ignorance and a\ntemporary device.\n\nSo much in the way of negative argument as against the reputed\ndifferences between Biological and other methods. No such differences,\nI believe, really exist. The subject-matter of Biological science is\ndifferent from that of other sciences, but the methods of all are\nidentical; and these methods are--\n\n1. _Observation_ of facts--including under this head that _artificial\nobservation_ which is called _experiment_.\n\n2. That process of tying up similar facts into bundles, ticketed and\nready for use, which is called _Comparison_ and _Classification_,--the\nresults of the process, the ticketed bundles, being named _General\npropositions_.\n\n3. _Deduction_, which takes us from the general proposition to facts\nagain--teaches us, if I may so say, to anticipate from the ticket\nwhat is inside the bundle. And finally--\n\n4. _Verification_, which is the process of ascertaining whether, in\npoint of fact, our anticipation is a correct one.\n\nSuch are the methods of all science whatsoever; but perhaps you will\npermit me to give you an illustration of their employment in the\nscience of Life; and I will take as a special case the establishment of\nthe doctrine of the _Circulation of the Blood_.\n\nIn this case, _simple observation_ yields us a knowledge of the\nexistence of the blood from some accidental haemorrhage, we will say;\nwe may even grant that it informs us of the localisation of this blood\nin particular vessels, the heart, &c., from some accidental cut or the\nlike. It teaches also the existence of a pulse in various parts of the\nbody, and acquaints us with the structure of the heart and vessels.\n\nHere, however, _simple observation_ stops, and we must have recourse\nto _experiment_.\n\nYou tie a vein, and you find that the blood accumulates on the side of\nthe ligature opposite the heart. You tie an artery, and you find that\nthe blood accumulates on the side near the heart. Open the chest, and\nyou see the heart contracting with great force. Make openings into its\nprincipal cavities, and you will find that all the blood flows out, and\nno more pressure is exerted on either side of the arterial or venous\nligature.\n\nNow all these facts, taken together, constitute the evidence that the\nblood is propelled by the heart through the arteries, and returns by\nthe veins--that, in short, the blood circulates.\n\nSuppose our experiments and observations have been made on horses, then\nwe group and ticket them into a general proposition, thus:--_all\nhorses have a circulation of their blood_.\n\nHenceforward a horse is a sort of indication or label, telling us where\nwe shall find a peculiar series of phaenomena called the circulation of\nthe blood.\n\nHere is our _general proposition_, then.\n\nHow, and when, are we justified in making our next step--a _deduction_\nfrom it?\n\nSuppose our physiologist, whose experience is limited to horses, meets\nwith a zebra for the first time,--will he suppose that this\ngeneralisation holds good for zebras also?\n\nThat depends very much on his turn of mind. But we will suppose him to\nbe a bold man. He will say, \"The zebra is certainly not a horse, but it\nis very like one,--so like, that it must be the 'ticket' or mark of a\nblood-circulation also; and, I conclude that the zebra has a\ncirculation.\"\n\nThat is a deduction, a very fair deduction, but by no means to be\nconsidered scientifically secure. This last quality in fact can only be\ngiven by _verification_--that is, by making a zebra the subject of\nall the experiments performed on the horse. Of course, in the present\ncase, the _deduction_ would be _confirmed_ by this process of\nverification, and the result would be, not merely a positive widening\nof knowledge, but a fair increase of confidence in the truth of one's\ngeneralisations in other cases.\n\nThus, having settled the point in the zebra and horse, our philosopher\nwould have great confidence in the existence of a circulation in the\nass. Nay, I fancy most persons would excuse him, if in this case he did\nnot take the trouble to go through the process of verification at all;\nand it would not be without a parallel in the history of the human\nmind, if our imaginary physiologist now maintained that he was\nacquainted with asinine circulation _\u00e0 priori_.\n\nHowever, if I might impress any caution upon your minds, it is, the\nutterly conditional nature of all our knowledge,--the danger of\nneglecting the process of verification under any circumstances; and the\nfilm upon which we rest, the moment our deductions carry us beyond the\nreach of this great process of verification. There is no better\ninstance of this than is afforded by the history of our knowledge of\nthe circulation of the blood in the animal kingdom until the year 1824.\nIn every animal possessing a circulation at all, which had been\nobserved up to that time, the current of the blood was known to take\none definite and invariable direction. Now, there is a class of animals\ncalled _Ascidians_, which possess a heart and a circulation, and\nup to the period of which I speak, no one would have dreamt of\nquestioning the propriety of the deduction, that these creatures have a\ncirculation in one direction; nor would any one have thought it worth\nwhile to verify the point. But, in that year, M. von Hasselt, happening\nto examine a transparent animal of this class, found, to his infinite\nsurprise, that after the heart had beat a certain number of times, it\nstopped, and then began beating the opposite way--so as to reverse the\ncourse of the current, which returned by and by to its original\ndirection.\n\nI have myself timed the heart of these little animals. I found it as\nregular as possible in its periods of reversal: and I know no spectacle\nin the animal kingdom more wonderful than that which it presents--all\nthe more wonderful that to this day it remains an unique fact, peculiar\nto this class among the whole animated world. At the same time I know\nof no more striking case of the necessity of the _verification_ of\neven those deductions which seem founded on the widest and safest\ninductions.\n\nSuch are the methods of Biology--methods which are obviously identical\nwith those of all other sciences, and therefore wholly incompetent to\nform the ground of any distinction between it and them. [5]\n\nBut I shall be asked at once, Do you mean to say that there is no\ndifference between the habit of mind of a mathematician and that of a\nnaturalist? Do you imagine that Laplace might have been put into the\nJardin des Plantes, and Cuvier into the Observatory, with equal\nadvantage to the progress of the sciences they professed?\n\nTo which I would reply, that nothing could be further from my thoughts.\nBut different habits and various special tendencies of two sciences do\nnot imply different methods. The mountaineer and the man of the plains\nhave very different habits of progression, and each would be at a loss\nin the other's place; but the method of progression, by putting one leg\nbefore the other, is the same in each case. Every step of each is a\ncombination of a lift and a push; but the mountaineer lifts more and\nthe lowlander pushes more. And I think the case of two sciences\nresembles this.\n\nI do not question for a moment, that while the Mathematician is busy\nwith deductions _from_ general propositions, the Biologist is more\nespecially occupied with observation, comparison, and those processes\nwhich lead _to_ general propositions. All I wish to insist upon\nis, that this difference depends not on any fundamental distinction in\nthe sciences themselves, but on the accidents of their subject-matter,\nof their relative complexity, and consequent relative perfection.\n\nThe Mathematician deals with two properties of objects only, number and\nextension, and all the inductions he wants have been formed and\nfinished ages ago. He is occupied now with nothing but deduction and\nverification.\n\nThe Biologist deals with a vast number of properties of objects, and\nhis inductions will not be completed, I fear, for ages to come; but\nwhen they are, his science will be as deductive and as exact as the\nMathematics themselves.\n\nSuch is the relation of Biology to those sciences which deal with\nobjects having fewer properties than itself. But as the student, in\nreaching Biology, looks back upon sciences of a less complex and\ntherefore more perfect nature; so, on the other hand, does he look\nforward to other more complex and less perfect branches of knowledge.\nBiology deals only with living beings as isolated things--treats only\nof the life of the individual: but there is a higher division of\nscience still, which considers living beings as aggregates--which deals\nwith the relation of living beings one to another--the science which\n_observes_ men--whose _experiments_ are made by nations one\nupon another, in battlefields--whose _general propositions_ are\nembodied in history, morality, and religion--whose _deductions_\nlead to our happiness or our misery--and whose _verifications_ so\noften come too late, and serve only\n\n  \"To point a moral, or adorn a tale\"--\n\nI mean the science of Society or _Sociology_.\n\nI think it is one of the grandest features of Biology, that it occupies\nthis central position in human knowledge. There is no side of the human\nmind which physiological study leaves uncultivated. Connected by\ninnumerable ties with abstract science, Physiology is yet in the most\nintimate relation with humanity; and by teaching us that law and order,\nand a definite scheme of development, regulate even the strangest and\nwildest manifestations of individual life, she prepares the student to\nlook for a goal even amidst the erratic wanderings of mankind, and to\nbelieve that history offers something more than an entertaining\nchaos--a journal of a toilsome, tragi-comic march no-whither.\n\nThe preceding considerations have, I hope, served to indicate the\nreplies which befit the first two of the questions which I set before\nyou at starting, viz. What is the range and position of Physiological\nScience as a branch of knowledge, and what is its value as a means of\nmental discipline?\n\nIts _subject-matter_ is a large moiety of the universe--its\n_position_ is midway between the physico-chemical and the social\nsciences. Its _value_ as a branch of discipline is partly that\nwhich it has in common with all sciences--the training and\nstrengthening of common sense; partly that which is more peculiar to\nitself--the great exercise which it affords to the faculties of\nobservation and comparison; and, I may add, the _exactness_ of\nknowledge which it requires on the part of those among its votaries who\ndesire to extend its boundaries.\n\nIf what has been said as to the position and scope of Biology be\ncorrect, our third question--What is the practical value of\nphysiological instruction?--might, one would think, be left to answer\nitself.\n\nOn other grounds even, were mankind deserving of the title \"rational,\"\nwhich they arrogate to themselves, there can be no question that they\nwould consider, as the most necessary of all branches of instruction\nfor themselves and for their children, that which professes to acquaint\nthem with the conditions of the existence they prize so highly--which\nteaches them how to avoid disease and to cherish health, in themselves\nand those who are dear to them.\n\nI am addressing, I imagine, an audience of educated persons; and yet I\ndare venture to assert that, with the exception of those of my hearers\nwho may chance to have received a medical education, there is not one\nwho could tell me what is the meaning and use of an act which he\nperforms a score of times every minute, and whose suspension would\ninvolve his immediate death;--I mean the act of breathing--or who could\nstate in precise terms why it is that a confined atmosphere is\ninjurious to health.\n\nThe _practical value_ of Physiological knowledge! Why is it that\neducated men can be found to maintain that a slaughter-house in the\nmidst of a great city is rather a good thing than otherwise?--that\nmothers persist in exposing the largest possible amount of surface of\ntheir children to the cold, by the absurd style of dress they adopt,\nand then marvel at the peculiar dispensation of Providence, which\nremoves their infants by bronchitis and gastric fever? Why is it that\nquackery rides rampant over the land; and that not long ago, one of the\nlargest public rooms in this great city could be filled by an audience\ngravely listening to the reverend expositor of the doctrine--that the\nsimple physiological phaenomena known as spirit-rapping, table-turning,\nphreno-magnetism, and I know not what other absurd and inappropriate\nnames, are due to the direct and personal agency of Satan?\n\nWhy is all this, except from the utter ignorance as to the simplest\nlaws of their own animal life, which prevails among even the most\nhighly educated persons in this country?\n\nBut there are other branches of Biological Science, besides Physiology\nproper, whose practical influence, though less obvious, is not, as I\nbelieve, less certain. I have heard educated men speak with an\nill-disguised contempt of the studies of the naturalist, and ask, not\nwithout a shrug, \"What is the use of knowing all about these miserable\nanimals--what bearing has it on human life?\"\n\nI will endeavour to answer that question. I take it that all will admit\nthere is definite Government of this universe--that its pleasures and\npains are not scattered at random, but are distributed in accordance\nwith orderly and fixed laws, and that it is only in accordance with all\nwe know of the rest of the world, that there should be an agreement\nbetween one portion of the sensitive creation and another in these\nmatters.\n\nSurely then it interests us to know the lot of other animal\ncreatures--however far below us, they are still the sole created things\nwhich share with us the capability of pleasure and the susceptibility\nto pain.\n\nI cannot but think that he who finds a certain proportion of pain and\nevil inseparably woven up in the life of the very worms, will bear his\nown share with more courage and submission; and will, at any rate, view\nwith suspicion those weakly amiable theories of the Divine government,\nwhich would have us believe pain to be an oversight and a mistake,--to\nbe corrected by and by. On the other hand, the predominance of\nhappiness among living things--their lavish beauty--the secret and\nwonderful harmony which pervades them all, from the highest to the\nlowest, are equally striking refutations of that modern Manichean\ndoctrine, which exhibits the world as a slave-mill, worked with many\ntears, for mere utilitarian ends.\n\nThere is yet another way in which natural history may, I am convinced,\ntake a profound hold upon practical life,--and that is, by its\ninfluence over our finer feelings, as the greatest of all sources of\nthat pleasure which is derivable from beauty. I do not pretend that\nnatural-history knowledge, as such, can increase our sense of the\nbeautiful in natural objects. I do not suppose that the dead soul of\nPeter Bell, of whom the great poet of nature says,--\n\n  A primrose by the river's brim,\n  A yellow primrose was to him,--\n  And it was nothing more,--\n\nwould have been a whit roused from its apathy by the information that\nthe primrose is a Dicotyledonous Exogen, with a monopetalous corolla\nand central placentation. But I advocate natural-history knowledge from\nthis point of view, because it would lead us to _seek_ the\nbeauties of natural objects, instead of trusting to chance to force\nthem on our attention. To a person uninstructed in natural history, his\ncountry or sea-side stroll is a walk through a gallery filled with\nwonderful works of art, nine-tenths of which have their faces turned to\nthe wall. Teach him something of natural history, and you place in his\nhands a catalogue of those which are worth turning round. Surely our\ninnocent pleasures are not so abundant in this life, that we can afford\nto despise this or any other source of them. We should fear being\nbanished for our neglect to that limbo, where the great Florentine\ntells us are those who, during this life, \"wept when they might be\njoyful.\"\n\nBut I shall be trespassing unwarrantably on your kindness, if I do not\nproceed at once to my last point--the time at which Physiological\nScience should first form a part of the Curriculum of Education.\n\nThe distinction between the teaching of the facts of a science as\ninstruction, and the teaching it systematically as knowledge, has\nalready been placed before you in a previous lecture: and it appears to\nme that, as with other sciences, the _common facts_ of Biology--the\nuses of parts of the body--the names and habits of the living\ncreatures which surround us--may be taught with advantage to the\nyoungest child. Indeed, the avidity of children for this kind of\nknowledge, and the comparative ease with which they retain it, is\nsomething quite marvellous. I doubt whether any toy would be so\nacceptable to young children as a vivarium of the same kind as, but of\ncourse on a smaller scale than, those admirable devices in the\nZoological Gardens.\n\nOn the other hand, systematic teaching in Biology cannot be attempted\nwith success until the student has attained to a certain knowledge of\nphysics and chemistry: for though the phaenomena of life are dependent\nneither on physical nor on chemical, but on vital forces, yet they\nresult in all sorts of physical and chemical changes, which can only be\njudged by their own laws.\n\nAnd now to sum up in a few words the conclusions to which I hope you\nsee reason to follow me.\n\nBiology needs no apologist when she demands a place--and a prominent\nplace--in any scheme of education worthy of the name. Leave out the\nPhysiological sciences from your curriculum, and you launch the student\ninto the world, undisciplined in that science whose subject-matter\nwould best develop his powers of observation; ignorant of facts of the\ndeepest importance for his own and others' welfare; blind to the\nrichest sources of beauty in God's creation; and unprovided with that\nbelief in a living law, and an order manifesting itself in and through\nendless change and variety, which might serve to check and moderate\nthat phase of despair through which, if he take an earnest interest in\nsocial problems, he will assuredly sooner or later pass.\n\nFinally, one word for myself. I have not hesitated to speak strongly\nwhere I have felt strongly; and I am but too conscious that the\nindicative and imperative moods have too often taken the place of the\nmore becoming subjunctive and conditional. I feel, therefore, how\nnecessary it is to beg you to forget the personality of him who has\nthus ventured to address you, and to consider only the truth or error\nin what has been said.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] \"In the third place, we have to review the method of Comparison,\nwhich is so specially adapted to the study of living bodies, and by\nwhich, above all others, that study must be advanced. In Astronomy,\nthis method is necessarily inapplicable; and it is not till we arrive\nat Chemistry that this third means of investigation can be used, and\nthen only in subordination to the two others. It is in the study, both\nstatical and dynamical, of living bodies that it first acquires its\nfull development; and its use elsewhere can be only through its\napplication here.\"--COMTE'S _Positive Philosophy_, translated by\nMiss Martineau. Vol. i. p. 372.\n\nBy what method does M. Comte suppose that the equality or inequality\nof forces and quantities and the dissimilarity or similarity of\nforms--points of some slight importance not only in Astronomy and\nPhysics, but even in Mathematics--are ascertained, if not by\nComparison?\n\n[2] \"Proceeding to the second class of means,--Experiment cannot but be\nless and less decisive, in proportion to the complexity of the\nphaenomena to be explored; and therefore we saw this resource to be\nless effectual in chemistry than in physics: and we now find that it is\neminently useful in chemistry in comparison with physiology. _In\nfact, the nature of the phenomena seems to offer almost insurmountable\nimpediments to any extensive and prolific application of such a\nprocedure in biology._\"--COMTE, vol. i. p. 367.\n\nM. Comte, as his manner is, contradicts himself two pages further on,\nbut that will hardly relieve him from the responsibility of such a\nparagraph as the above.\n\n[3] _Nouvelle Fonction du Foie consid\u00e9r\u00e9 comme organe producteur de\nmati\u00e8re sucr\u00e9e chez l'Homme et les Animaux, par_ M. Claude Bernard.\n\n[4] \"_Natural Groups given by Type, not by Definition_.... The\nclass is steadily fixed, though not precisely limited; it is given,\nthough not circumscribed; it is determined, not by a boundary-line\nwithout, but by a central point within; not by what it strictly\nexcludes, but what it eminently includes; by an example, not by a\nprecept; in short, instead of Definition we have a _Type_ for our\ndirector. A type is an example of any class, for instance, a species of\na genus, which is considered as eminently possessing the characters of\nthe class. All the species which have a greater affinity with this\ntype-species than with any others, form the genus, and are ranged about\nabout it, deviating from it in various directions and different\ndegrees.\"--WHEWELL, _The Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences_,\nvol. i. pp. 476, 477.\n\n[5] Save for the pleasure of doing so, I need hardly point put my\nobligations to Mr. J. S. Mill's _System of Logic_, in this view of\nscientific method.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nEMANCIPATION--BLACK AND WHITE\n\n[1865.]\n\n\nQuashie's plaintive inquiry, \"Am I not a man and a brother?\" seems at\nlast to have received its final reply--the recent decision of the\nfierce trial by battle on the other side of the Atlantic fully\nconcurring with that long since delivered here in a more peaceful way.\n\nThe question is settled; but even those who are most thoroughly\nconvinced that the doom is just, must see good grounds for repudiating\nhalf the arguments which have been employed by the winning side; and\nfor doubting whether its ultimate results will embody the hopes of the\nvictors, though they may more than realise the fears of the vanquished.\nIt may be quite true that some negroes are better than some white men;\nbut no rational man, cognisant of the facts, believes that the average\nnegro is the equal, still less the superior, of the average white man.\nAnd, if this be true, it is simply incredible that, when all his\ndisabilities are removed, and our prognathous relative has a fair field\nand no favour, as well as no oppressor, he will be able to compete\nsuccessfully with his bigger-brained and smaller-jawed rival, in a\ncontest which is to be carried on by thoughts and not by bites. The\nhighest places in the hierarchy of civilisation will assuredly not be\nwithin the reach of our dusky cousins, though it is by no means\nnecessary that they should be restricted to the lowest. But whatever\nthe position of stable equilibrium into which the laws of social\ngravitation may bring the negro, all responsibility for the result will\nhenceforward lie between Nature and him. The white man may wash his\nhands of it, and the Caucasian conscience be void of reproach for\nevermore. And this, if we look to the bottom of the matter, is the real\njustification for the abolition policy.\n\nThe doctrine of equal natural rights may be an illogical delusion;\nemancipation may convert the slave from a well-fed animal into a\npauperised man; mankind may even have to do without cotton shirts; but\nall these evils must be faced if the moral law, that no human being can\narbitrarily dominate over another without grievous damage to his own\nnature, be, as many think, as readily demonstrable by experiment as any\nphysical truth. If this be true, no slavery can be abolished without a\ndouble emancipation, and the master will benefit by freedom more than\nthe freed-man.\n\nThe like considerations apply to all the other questions of\nemancipation which are at present stirring the world--the multifarious\ndemands that classes of mankind shall be relieved from restrictions\nimposed by the artifice of man, and not by the necessities of Nature.\nOne of the most important, if not the most important, of all these, is\nthat which daily threatens to become the \"irrepressible\" woman\nquestion. What social and political rights have women? What ought they\nto be allowed, or not allowed, to do, be, and suffer? And, as involved\nin, and underlying all these questions, how ought they to be educated?\n\nThere are philogynists as fanatical as any \"misogynists\" who, reversing\nour antiquated notions, bid the man look upon the woman as the higher\ntype of humanity; who ask us to regard the female intellect as the\nclearer and the quicker, if not the stronger; who desire us to look up\nto the feminine moral sense as the purer and the nobler; and bid man\nabdicate his usurped sovereignty over Nature in favour of the female\nline. On the other hand, there are persons not to be outdone in all\nloyalty and just respect for womankind, but by nature hard of head and\nhaters of delusion, however charming, who not only repudiate the new\nwoman-worship which so many sentimentalists and some philosophers are\ndesirous of setting up, but, carrying their audacity further, deny even\nthe natural equality of the sexes. They assert, on the contrary, that\nin every excellent character, whether mental or physical, the average\nwoman is inferior to the average man, in the sense of having that\ncharacter less in quantity and lower in quality. Tell these persons of\nthe rapid perceptions and the instinctive intellectual insight of\nwomen, and they reply that the feminine mental peculiarities, which\npass under these names, are merely the outcome of a greater\nimpressibility to the superficial aspects of things, and of the absence\nof that restraint upon expression which, in men, is imposed by\nreflection and a sense of responsibility. Talk of the passive endurance\nof the weaker sex, and opponents of this kind remind you that Job was a\nman, and that, until quite recent times, patience and long-suffering\nwere not counted among the specially feminine virtues. Claim passionate\ntenderness as especially feminine, and the inquiry is made whether all\nthe best love-poetry in existence (except, perhaps, the \"Sonnets from\nthe Portuguese \") has not been written by men; whether the song which\nembodies the ideal of pure and tender passion--\"Adelaida \"--was\nwritten by _Frau_ Beethoven; whether it was the Fornarina, or\nRaphael, who painted the Sistine Madonna. Nay, we have known one such\nheretic go so far as to lay his hands upon the ark itself, so to speak,\nand to defend the startling paradox that, even in physical beauty, man\nis the superior. He admitted, indeed, that there was a brief period of\nearly youth when it might be hard to say whether the prize should be\nawarded to the graceful undulations of the female figure, or the\nperfect balance and supple vigour of the male frame. But while our new\nParis might hesitate between the youthful Bacchus and the Venus\nemerging from the foam, he averred that, when Venus and Bacchus had\nreached thirty, the point no longer admitted of a doubt; the male form\nhaving then attained its greatest nobility, while the female is far\ngone in decadence; and that, at this epoch, womanly beauty, so far as\nit is independent of grace or expression, is a question of drapery and\naccessories.\n\nSupposing, however, that all these arguments have a certain foundation;\nadmitting, for a moment, that they are comparable to those by which the\ninferiority of the negro to the white man may be demonstrated, are they\nof any value as against woman-emancipation? Do they afford us the\nsmallest ground for refusing to educate women as well as men--to give\nwomen the same civil and political rights as men? No mistake is so\ncommonly made by clever people as that of assuming a cause to be bad\nbecause the arguments of its supporters are, to a great extent,\nnon-sensical. And we conceive that those who may laugh at the arguments\nof the extreme philogynists, may yet feel bound to work heart and soul\ntowards the attainment of their practical ends.\n\nAs regards education, for example. Granting the alleged defects of\nwomen, is it not somewhat absurd to sanction and maintain a system of\neducation which would seem to have been specially contrived to\nexaggerate all these defects?\n\nNaturally not so firmly strung, nor so well balanced as boys, girls are\nin great measure debarred from the sports and physical exercises which\nare justly thought absolutely necessary for the full development of the\nvigour of the more favoured sex. Women are, by nature, more excitable\nthan men--prone to be swept by tides of emotion, proceeding from hidden\nand inward, as well as from obvious and external causes; and female\neducation does its best to weaken every physical counterpoise to this\nnervous mobility--tends in all ways to stimulate the emotional part of\nthe mind and stunt the rest. We find girls naturally timid, inclined to\ndependence, born conservatives; and we teach them that independence is\nunladylike; that blind faith is the right frame of mind; and that\nwhatever we may be permitted, and indeed encouraged, to do to our\nbrother, our sister is to be left to the tyranny of authority and\ntradition. With few insignificant exceptions, girls have been educated\neither to be drudges, or toys, beneath man; or a sort of angels above\nhim; the highest ideal aimed at oscillating between Cl\u00e4rchen and\nBeatrice. The possibility that the ideal of womanhood lies neither in\nthe fair saint, nor in the fair sinner; that the female type of\ncharacter is neither better nor worse than the male, but only weaker;\nthat women are meant neither to be men's guides nor their play-things,\nbut their comrades, their fellows, and their equals, so far as Nature\nputs no bar to that equality, does not seem to have entered into the\nminds of those who have had the conduct of the education of girls.\n\nIf the present system of female education stands self-condemned, as\ninherently absurd; and if that which we have just indicated is the true\nposition of woman, what is the first step towards a better state of\nthings? We reply, emancipate girls. Recognise the fact that they share\nthe senses, perceptions, feelings, reasoning powers, emotions, of boys,\nand that the mind of the average girl is less different from that of\nthe average boy, than the mind of one boy is from that of another; so\nthat whatever argument justifies a given education for all boys,\njustifies its application to girls as well. So far from imposing\nartificial restrictions upon the acquirement of knowledge by women,\nthrow every facility in their way. Let our Faustinas, if they will,\ntoil through the whole round of\n\n  \"Juristerei und Medizin,\n  Und leider! auch Philosophie.\"\n\nLet us have \"sweet girl graduates\" by all means. They will be none the\nless sweet for a little wisdom; and the \"golden hair\" will not curl\nless gracefully outside the head by reason of there being brains\nwithin. Nay, if obvious practical difficulties can be overcome, let\nthose women who feel inclined to do so descend into the gladiatorial\narena of life, not merely in the guise of _retiariae_, as\nheretofore, but as bold _sicariae_, breasting the open fray. Let\nthem, if they so please, become merchants, barristers, politicians. Let\nthem have a fair field, but let them understand, as the necessary\ncorrelative, that they are to have no favour. Let Nature alone sit high\nabove the lists, \"rain influence and judge the prize.\"\n\nAnd the result? For our parts, though loth to prophesy, we believe it\nwill be that of other emancipations. Women will find their place, and\nit will neither be that in which they have been held, nor that to which\nsome of them aspire. Nature's old salique law will not be repealed, and\nno change of dynasty will be effected. The big chests, the massive\nbrains, the vigorous muscles and stout frames of the best men will\ncarry the day, whenever it is worth their while to contest the prizes\nof life with the best women. And the hardship of it is, that the very\nimprovement of the women will lessen their chances. Better mothers will\nbring forth better sons, and the impetus gained by the one sex will be\ntransmitted, in the next generation, to the other. The most Darwinian\nof theorists will not venture to propound the doctrine, that the\nphysical disabilities under which women have hitherto laboured in the\nstruggle for existence with men are likely to be removed by even the\nmost skilfully conducted process of educational selection.\n\nWe are, indeed, fully prepared to believe that the bearing of children\nmay, and ought, to become as free from danger and long disability to\nthe civilised woman as it is to the savage; nor is it improbable that,\nas society advances towards its right organisation, motherhood will\noccupy a less space of woman's life than it has hitherto done. But\nstill, unless the human species is to come to an end altogether--a\nconsummation which can hardly be desired by even the most ardent\nadvocate of \"women's rights\"--somebody must be good enough to take the\ntrouble and responsibility of annually adding to the world exactly as\nmany people as die out of it. In consequence of some domestic\ndifficulties, Sydney Smith is said to have suggested that it would have\nbeen good for the human race had the model offered by the hive been\nfollowed, and had all the working part of the female community been\nneuters. Failing any thorough-going reform of this kind, we see nothing\nfor it but the old division of humanity into men potentially, or\nactually, fathers, and women potentially, if not actually, mothers. And\nwe fear that so long as this potential motherhood is her lot, woman\nwill be found to be fearfully weighted in the race of life.\n\nThe duty of man is to see that not a grain is piled upon that load\nbeyond what Nature imposes; that injustice is not added to inequality.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nA LIBERAL EDUCATION; AND WHERE TO FIND IT\n\n[1868.]\n\n\nThe business which the South London Working Men's College has\nundertaken is a great work; indeed, I might say, that Education, with\nwhich that college proposes to grapple, is the greatest work of all\nthose which lie ready to a man's hand just at present.\n\nAnd, at length, this fact is becoming generally recognised. You cannot\ngo anywhere without hearing a buzz of more or less confused and\ncontradictory talk on this subject--nor can you fail to notice that, in\none point at any rate, there is a very decided advance upon like\ndiscussions in former days. Nobody outside the agricultural interest\nnow dares to say that education is a bad thing. If any representative\nof the once large and powerful party, which, in former days, proclaimed\nthis opinion, still exists in a semi-fossil state, he keeps his\nthoughts to himself. In fact, there is a chorus of voices, almost\ndistressing in their harmony, raised in favour of the doctrine that\neducation is the great panacea for human troubles, and that, if the\ncountry is not shortly to go to the dogs, everybody must be educated.\n\nThe politicians tells us, \"You must educate the masses because they are\ngoing to be masters.\" The clergy join in the cry for education, for\nthey affirm that the people are drifting away from church and chapel\ninto the broadest infidelity. The manufacturers and the capitalists\nswell the chorus lustily. They declare that ignorance makes bad\nworkmen; that England will soon be unable to turn out cotton goods, or\nsteam engines, cheaper than other people; and then, Ichabod! Ichabod!\nthe glory will be departed from us. And a few voices are lifted up in\nfavour of the doctrine that the masses should be educated because they\nare men and women with unlimited capacities of being, doing, and\nsuffering, and that it is as true now, as ever it was, that the people\nperish for lack of knowledge.\n\nThese members of the minority, with whom I confess I have a good deal\nof sympathy, are doubtful whether any of the other reasons urged in\nfavour of the education of the people are of much value--whether,\nindeed, some of them are based upon either wise or noble grounds of\naction. They question if it be wise to tell people that you will do for\nthem, out of fear of their power, what you have left undone, so long as\nyour only motive was compassion for their weakness and their sorrows.\nAnd, if ignorance of everything which it is needful a ruler should know\nis likely to do so much harm in the governing classes of the future,\nwhy is it, they ask reasonably enough, that such ignorance in the\ngoverning classes of the past has not been viewed with equal horror?\n\nCompare the average artisan and the average country squire, and it may\nbe doubted if you will find a pin to choose between the two in point of\nignorance, class feeling, or prejudice. It is true that the ignorance\nis of a different sort--that the class feeling is in favour of a\ndifferent class--and that the prejudice has a distinct savour of\nwrong-headedness in each case--but it is questionable if the one is\neither a bit better, or a bit worse, than the other. The old\nprotectionist theory is the doctrine of trades unions as applied by the\nsquires, and the modern trades unionism is the doctrine of the squires\napplied by the artisans. Why should we be worse off under one _r\u00e9gime_\nthan under the other?\n\nAgain, this sceptical minority asks the clergy to think whether it is\nreally want of education which keeps the masses away from their\nministrations--whether the most completely educated men are not as open\nto reproach on this score as the workmen; and whether, perchance, this\nmay not indicate that it is not education which lies at the bottom of\nthe matter?\n\nOnce more, these people, whom there is no pleasing, venture to doubt\nwhether the glory, which rests upon being able to undersell all the\nrest of the world, is a very safe kind of glory--whether we may not\npurchase it too dear; especially if we allow education, which ought to\nbe directed to the making of men, to be diverted into a process of\nmanufacturing human tools, wonderfully adroit in the exercise of some\ntechnical industry, but good for nothing else.\n\nAnd, finally, these people inquire whether it is the masses alone who\nneed a reformed and improved education. They ask whether the richest of\nour public schools might not well be made to supply knowledge, as well\nas gentlemanly habits, a strong class feeling, and eminent proficiency\nin cricket. They seem to think that the noble foundations of our old\nuniversities are hardly fulfilling their functions in their present\nposture of half-clerical seminaries, half racecourses, where men are\ntrained to win a senior wranglership, or a double-first, as horses\nare trained to win a cup, with as little reference to the needs of\nafter-life in the case of the man as in that of the racer. And, while\nas zealous for education as the rest, they affirm that, if the\neducation of the richer classes were such as to fit them to be the\nleaders and the governors of the poorer; and, if the education of the\npoorer classes were such as to enable them to appreciate really wise\nguidance and good governance, the politicians need not fear mob-law,\nnor the clergy lament their want of flocks, nor the capitalists\nprognosticate the annihilation of the prosperity of the country.\n\nSuch is the diversity of opinion upon the why and the wherefore of\neducation. And my hearers will be prepared to expect that the practical\nrecommendations which are put forward are not less discordant. There is\na loud cry for compulsory education. We English, in spite of constant\nexperience to the contrary, preserve a touching faith in the efficacy\nof acts of Parliament; and I believe we should have compulsory\neducation in the course of next session, if there were the least\nprobability that half a dozen leading statesmen of different parties\nwould agree what that education should be.\n\nSome hold that education without theology is worse than none. Others\nmaintain, quite as strongly, that education with theology is in the\nsame predicament. But this is certain, that those who hold the first\nopinion can by no means agree what theology should be taught; and that\nthose who maintain the second are in a small minority.\n\nAt any rate \"make people learn to read, write, and cipher,\" say a great\nmany; and the advice is undoubtedly sensible as far as it goes. But, as\nhas happened to me in former days, those who, in despair of getting\nanything better, advocate this measure, are met with the objection that\nit is very like making a child practise the use of a knife, fork, and\nspoon, without giving it a particle of meat. I really don't know what\nreply is to be made to such an objection.\n\nBut it would be unprofitable to spend more time in disentangling, or\nrather in showing up the knots in, the ravelled skeins of our\nneighbours. Much more to the purpose is it to ask if we possess any\nclue of our own which may guide us among these entanglements. And by\nway of a beginning, let us ask ourselves--What is education? Above all\nthings, what is our ideal of a thoroughly liberal education?--of that\neducation which, if we could begin life again, we would give\nourselves--of that education which, if we could mould the fates to our\nown will, we would give our children? Well, I know not what may be your\nconceptions upon this matter, but I will tell you mine, and I hope I\nshall find that our views are not very discrepant.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSuppose it were perfectly certain that the life and fortune of every\none of us would, one day or other, depend upon his winning or losing a\ngame at chess. Don't you think that we should all consider it to be a\nprimary duty to learn at least the names and the moves of the pieces;\nto have a notion of a gambit, and a keen eye for all the means of\ngiving and getting out of check? Do you not think that we should look\nwith a disapprobation amounting to scorn, upon the father who allowed\nhis son, or the state which allowed its members, to grow up without\nknowing a pawn from a knight?\n\nYet it is a very plain and elementary truth, that the life, the\nfortune, and the happiness of every one of us, and, more or less, of\nthose who are connected with us, do depend upon our knowing something\nof the rules of a game infinitely more difficult and complicated than\nchess. It is a game which has been played for untold ages, every man\nand woman of us being one of the two players in a game of his or her\nown. The chess-board is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the\nuniverse, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature.\nThe player on the other side is hidden from us. We know that his play\nis always fair, just and patient. But also we know, to our cost, that\nhe never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for\nignorance. To the man who plays well, the highest stakes are paid, with\nthat sort of overflowing generosity with which the strong shows delight\nin strength. And one who plays ill is checkmated--without haste, but\nwithout remorse.\n\nMy metaphor will remind some of you of the famous picture in which\nRetzsch has depicted Satan playing at chess with man for his soul.\nSubstitute for the mocking fiend in that picture a calm, strong angel\nwho is playing for love, as we say, and would rather lose than win--and\nI should accept it us an image of human life.\n\nWell, what I mean by Education is learning the rules of this mighty\ngame. In other words, education is the instruction of the intellect in\nthe laws of Nature, under which name I include not merely things and\ntheir forces, but men and their ways; and the fashioning of the\naffections and of the will into an earnest and loving desire to move in\nharmony with those laws. For me, education means neither more nor less\nthan this. Anything which professes to call itself education must be\ntried by this standard, and if it fails to stand the test, I will not\ncall it education, whatever may be the force of authority, or of\nnumbers, upon the other side.\n\nIt is important to remember that, in strictness, there is no such thing\nas an uneducated man. Take an extreme case. Suppose that an adult man,\nin the full vigour of his faculties, could be suddenly placed in the\nworld, as Adam is said to have been, and then left to do as he best\nmight. How long would he be left uneducated? Not five minutes. Nature\nwould begin to teach him, through the eye, the ear, the touch, the\nproperties of objects. Pain and pleasure would be at his elbow telling\nhim to do this and avoid that; and by slow degrees the man would\nreceive an education which, if narrow, would be thorough, real, and\nadequate to his circumstances, though there would be no extras and very\nfew accomplishments.\n\nAnd if to this solitary man entered a second Adam, or, better still, an\nEve, a new and greater world, that of social and moral phenomena, would\nbe revealed. Joys and woes, compared with which all others might seem\nbut faint shadows, would spring from the new relations. Happiness and\nsorrow would take the place of the coarser monitors, pleasure and pain;\nbut conduct would still be shaped by the observation of the natural\nconsequences of actions; or, in other words, by the laws of the nature\nof man.\n\nTo every one of us the world was once as fresh and new as to Adam. And\nthen, long before we were susceptible of any other mode of instruction,\nNature took us in hand, and every minute of waking life brought its\neducational influence, shaping our actions into rough accordance with\nNature's laws, so that we might not be ended untimely by too gross\ndisobedience. Nor should I speak of this process of education as past\nfor any one, be he as old as he may. For every man the world is as\nfresh as it was at the first day, and as full of untold novelties for\nhim who has the eyes to see them. And Nature is still continuing her\npatient education of us in that great university, the universe, of\nwhich we are all members--Nature having no Test-Acts.\n\nThose who take honours in Nature's university, who learn the laws which\ngovern men and things and obey them, are the really great and\nsuccessful men in this world. The great mass of mankind are the\n\"Poll,\" who pick up just enough to get through without much discredit.\nThose who won't learn at all are plucked; and then you can't come up\nagain. Nature's pluck means extermination.\n\nThus the question of compulsory education is settled so far as Nature\nis concerned. Her bill on that question was framed and passed long ago.\nBut, like all compulsory legislation, that of Nature is harsh and\nwasteful in its operation. Ignorance is visited as sharply as wilful\ndisobedience--incapacity meets with the same punishment as crime.\nNature's discipline is not even a word and a blow, and the blow first;\nbut the blow without the word. It is left to you to find out why your\nears are boxed.\n\nThe object of what we commonly call education--that education in\nwhich man intervenes and which I shall distinguish as artificial\neducation--is to make good these defects in Nature's methods; to\nprepare the child to receive Nature's education, neither incapably nor\nignorantly, nor with wilful disobedience; and to understand the\npreliminary symptoms of her pleasure, without waiting for the box on\nthe ear. In short, all artificial education ought to be an anticipation\nof natural education. And a liberal education is an artificial education\nwhich has not only prepared a man to escape the great evils\nof disobedience to natural laws, but has trained him to appreciate and\nto seize upon the rewards, which Nature scatters with as free a hand as\nher penalties.\n\nThat man, I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained\nin youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, and does with\nease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, it is capable of;\nwhose intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of\nequal strength, and in smooth working order; ready, like a steam\nengine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as\nwell as forge the anchors of the mind; whose mind is stored with a\nknowledge of the great and fundamental truths of Nature and of the laws\nof her operations; one who, no stunted ascetic, is full of life and\nfire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by a vigorous\nwill, the servant of a tender conscience; who has learned to love all\nbeauty, whether of Nature or of art, to hate all vileness, and to\nrespect others as himself.\n\nSuch an one and no other, I conceive, has had a liberal education; for\nhe is, as completely as a man can be, in harmony with Nature. He will\nmake the best of her, and she of him. They will get on together rarely:\nshe as his ever beneficent mother; he as her mouthpiece, her conscious\nself, her minister and interpreter.\n\nWhere is such an education as this to be had? Where is there any\napproximation to it? Has any one tried to found such an education?\nLooking over the length and breadth of these islands, I am afraid that\nall these questions must receive a negative answer. Consider our\nprimary schools and what is taught in them. A child learns:--\n\n1. To read, write, and cipher, more or less well; but in a very large\nproportion of cases not so well as to take pleasure in reading, or to\nbe able to write the commonest letter properly.\n\n2. A quantity of dogmatic theology, of which the child, nine times out\nof ten, understands next to nothing.\n\n3. Mixed up with this, so as to seem to stand or fall with it, a few of\nthe broadest and simplest principles of morality. This, to my mind, is\nmuch as if a man of science should make the story of the fall of the\napple in Newton's garden an integral part of the doctrine of\ngravitation, and teach it as of equal authority with the law of the\ninverse squares.\n\n4. A good deal of Jewish history and Syrian geography, and perhaps a\nlittle something about English history and the geography of the child's\nown country. But I doubt if there is a primary school in England in\nwhich hangs a map of the hundred in which the village lies, so that the\nchildren may be practically taught by it what a map means.\n\n5. A certain amount of regularity, attentive obedience, respect for\nothers: obtained by fear, if the master be incompetent or foolish; by\nlove and reverence, if he be wise.\n\nSo far as this school course embraces a training in the theory and\npractice of obedience to the moral laws of Nature, I gladly admit, not\nonly that it contains a valuable educational element, but that, so far,\nit deals with the most valuable and important part of all education.\nYet, contrast what is done in this direction with what might be done;\nwith the time given to matters of comparatively no importance; with the\nabsence of any attention to things of the highest moment; and one is\ntempted to think of Falstaff's bill and \"the halfpenny worth of bread\nto all that quantity of sack.\"\n\nLet us consider what a child thus \"educated\" knows, and what it does\nnot know. Begin with the most important topic of all--morality, as the\nguide of conduct. The child knows well enough that some acts meet with\napprobation and some with disapprobation. But it has never heard that\nthere lies in the nature of things a reason for every moral law, as\ncogent and as well defined as that which underlies every physical law;\nthat stealing and lying are just as certain to be followed by evil\nconsequences, as putting your hand in the fire, or jumping out of a\ngarret window. Again, though the scholar may have been made acquainted,\nin dogmatic fashion, with the broad laws of morality, he has had no\ntraining in the application of those laws to the difficult problems\nwhich result from the complex conditions of modern civilisation. Would\nit not be very hard to expect any one to solve a problem in conic\nsections who had merely been taught the axioms and definitions of\nmathematical science?\n\nA workman has to bear hard labour, and perhaps privation, while he sees\nothers rolling in wealth, and feeding their dogs with what would keep\nhis children from starvation. Would it not be well to have helped that\nman to calm the natural promptings of discontent by showing him, in his\nyouth, the necessary connection of the moral law which prohibits\nstealing with the stability of society--by proving to him, once for\nall, that it is better for his own people, better for himself, better\nfor future generations, that he should starve than steal? If you have\nno foundation of knowledge, or habit of thought, to work upon, what\nchance have you of persuading a hungry man that a capitalist is not a\nthief \"with a circumbendibus?\" And if he honestly believes that, of\nwhat avail is it to quote the commandment against stealing, when he\nproposes to make the capitalist disgorge?\n\nAgain, the child learns absolutely nothing of the history or the\npolitical organisation of his own country. His general impression is,\nthat everything of much importance happened a very long while ago; and\nthat the Queen and the gentlefolks govern the country much after the\nfashion of King David and the elders and nobles of Israel--his sole\nmodels. Will you give a man with this much information a vote? In easy\ntimes he sells it for a pot of beer. Why should he not? It is of about\nas much use to him as a chignon, and he knows as much what to do with\nit, for any other purpose. In bad times, on the contrary, he applies\nhis simple theory of government, and believes that his rulers are the\ncause of his sufferings--a belief which sometimes bears remarkable\npractical fruits.\n\nLeast of all, does the child gather from this primary \"education\" of\nours a conception of the laws of the physical world, or of the\nrelations of cause and effect therein. And this is the more to be\nlamented, as the poor are especially exposed to physical evils, and are\nmore interested in removing them than any other class of the community.\nIf any one is concerned in knowing the ordinary laws of mechanics one\nwould think it is the hand-labourer, whose daily toil lies among levers\nand pulleys; or among the other implements of artisan work. And if any\none is interested in the laws of health, it is the poor workman, whose\nstrength is wasted by ill-prepared food, whose health is sapped by bad\nventilation and bad drainage, and half whose children are massacred by\ndisorders which might be prevented. Not only does our present primary\neducation carefully abstain from hinting to the workman that some of\nhis greatest evils are traceable to mere physical agencies, which could\nbe removed by energy, patience, and frugality; but it does worse--it\nrenders him, so far as it can, deaf to those who could help him, and\ntries to substitute an Oriental submission to what is falsely declared\nto be the will of God, for his natural tendency to strive after a\nbetter condition.\n\nWhat wonder, then, if very recently an appeal has been made to\nstatistics for the profoundly foolish purpose of showing that education\nis of no good--that it diminishes neither misery nor crime among the\nmasses of mankind? I reply, why should the thing which has been called\neducation do either the one or the other? If I am a knave or a fool,\nteaching me to read and write won't make me less of either one or the\nother--unless somebody shows me how to put my reading and writing to\nwise and good purposes.\n\nSuppose any one were to argue that medicine is of no use, because it\ncould be proved statistically, that the percentage of deaths was just\nthe same among people who had been taught how to open a medicine chest,\nand among those who did not so much as know the key by sight. The\nargument is absurd; but it is not more preposterous than that against\nwhich I am contending. The only medicine for suffering, crime, and all\nthe other woes of mankind, is wisdom. Teach a man to read and write,\nand you have put into his hands the great keys of the wisdom box. But\nit is quite another matter whether he ever opens the box or not. And he\nis as likely to poison as to cure himself, if, without guidance, he\nswallows the first drug that comes to hand. In these times a man may as\nwell be purblind, as unable to read--lame, as unable to write. But I\nprotest that, if I thought the alternative were a necessary one, I\nwould rather that the children of the poor should grow up ignorant of\nboth these mighty arts, than that they should remain ignorant of that\nknowledge to which these arts are means.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt may be said that all these animadversions may apply to primary\nschools, but that the higher schools, at any rate, must be allowed to\ngive a liberal education. In fact they professedly sacrifice everything\nelse to this object.\n\nLet us inquire into this matter. What do the higher schools, those to\nwhich the great middle class of the country sends its children, teach,\nover and above the instruction given in the primary schools? There is a\nlittle more reading and writing of English. But, for all that, every\none knows that it is a rare thing to find a boy of the middle or upper\nclasses who can read aloud decently, or who can put his thoughts on\npaper in clear and grammatical (to say nothing of good or elegant)\nlanguage. The \"ciphering\" of the lower schools expands into elementary\nmathematics in the higher; into arithmetic, with a little algebra, a\nlittle Euclid. But I doubt if one boy in five hundred has ever heard\nthe explanation of a rule of arithmetic, or knows his Euclid otherwise\nthan by rote.\n\nOf theology, the middle class schoolboy gets rather less than poorer\nchildren, less absolutely and less relatively, because there are so\nmany other claims upon his attention. I venture to say that, in the\ngreat majority of cases, his ideas on this subject when he leaves\nschool are of the most shadowy and vague description, and associated\nwith painful impressions of the weary hours spent in learning collects\nand catechism by heart.\n\nModern geography, modern history, modern literature; the English\nlanguage as a language; the whole circle of the sciences, physical,\nmoral and social, are even more completely ignored in the higher than\nin the lower schools. Up till within a few years back, a boy might have\npassed through any one of the great public schools with the greatest\ndistinction and credit, and might never so much as have heard of one of\nthe subjects I have just mentioned. He might never have heard that the\nearth goes round the sun; that England underwent a great revolution in\n1688, and France another in 1789; that there once lived certain notable\nmen called Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Voltaire, Goethe, Schiller.\nThe first might be a German and the last an Englishman for anything he\ncould tell you to the contrary. And as for Science, the only idea the\nword would suggest to his mind would be dexterity in boxing.\n\nI have said that this was the state of things a few years back, for the\nsake of the few righteous who are to be found among the educational\ncities of the plain. But I would not have you too sanguine about the\nresult, if you sound the minds of the existing generation of public\nschoolboys, on such topics as those I have mentioned.\n\nNow let us pause to consider this wonderful state of affairs; for the\ntime will come when Englishmen will quote it as the stock example of\nthe stolid stupidity of their ancestors in the nineteenth century. The\nmost thoroughly commercial people, the greatest voluntary wanderers and\ncolonists the world has ever seen, are precisely the middle classes of\nthis country. If there be a people which has been busy making history\non the great scale for the last three hundred years--and the most\nprofoundly interesting history--history which, if it happened to be\nthat of Greece or Rome, we should study with avidity--it is the\nEnglish. If there be a people which, during the same period, has\ndeveloped a remarkable literature, it is our own. If there be a nation\nwhose prosperity depends absolutely and wholly upon their mastery over\nthe forces of Nature, upon their intelligent apprehension of, and\nobedience to the laws of the creation and distribution of wealth, and\nof the stable equilibrium of the forces of society, it is precisely\nthis nation. And yet this is what these wonderful people tell their\nsons:--\"At the cost of from one to two thousand pounds of our\nhard-earned money, we devote twelve of the most precious years of your\nlives to school. There you shall toil, or be supposed to toil; but\nthere you shall not learn one single thing of all those you will most\nwant to know directly you leave school and enter upon the practical\nbusiness of life. You will in all probability go into business, but you\nshall not know where, or how, any article of commerce is produced, or\nthe difference between an export or an import, or the meaning of the\nword \"capital.\" You will very likely settle in a colony, but you shall\nnot know whether Tasmania is part of New South Wales, or _vice vers\u00e2_.\n\n\"Very probably you may become a manufacturer, but you shall not be\nprovided with the means of understanding the working of one of your own\nsteam-engines, or the nature of the raw products you employ; and, when\nyou are asked to buy a patent, you shall not have the slightest means\nof judging whether the inventor is an impostor who is contravening the\nelementary principles of science, or a man who will make you as rich as\nCroesus.\n\n\"You will very likely get into the House of Commons. You will have to\ntake your share in making laws which may prove a blessing or a curse to\nmillions of men. But you shall not hear one word respecting the\npolitical organisation of your country; the meaning of the controversy\nbetween free-traders and protectionists shall never have been mentioned\nto you; you shall not so much as know that there are such things as\neconomical laws.\n\n\"The mental power which will be of most importance in your daily life\nwill be the power of seeing things as they are without regard to\nauthority; and of drawing accurate general conclusions from particular\nfacts. But at school and at college you shall know of no source of\ntruth but authority; nor exercise your reasoning faculty upon anything\nbut deduction from that which is laid down by authority.\n\n\"You will have to weary your soul with work, and many a time eat your\nbread in sorrow and in bitterness, and you shall not have learned to\ntake refuge in the great source of pleasure without alloy, the serene\nresting-place for worn human nature,--the world of art.\"\n\nSaid I not rightly that we are a wonderful people? I am quite prepared\nto allow, that education entirely devoted to these omitted subjects\nmight not be a completely liberal education. But is an education which\nignores them all a liberal education? Nay, is it too much to say that\nthe education which should embrace these subjects and no others would\nbe a real education, though an incomplete one; while an education which\nomits them is really not an education at all, but a more or less useful\ncourse of intellectual gymnastics?\n\nFor what does the middle-class school put in the place of all these\nthings which are left out? It substitutes what is usually comprised\nunder the compendious title of the \"classics\"--that is to say, the\nlanguages, the literature, and the history of the ancient Greeks and\nRomans, and the geography of so much of the world as was known to these\ntwo great nations of antiquity. Now, do not expect me to depreciate the\nearnest and enlightened pursuit of classical learning. I have not the\nleast desire to speak ill of such occupations, nor any sympathy with\nthose who run them down. On the contrary, if my opportunities had lain\nin that direction, there is no investigation into which I could have\nthrown myself with greater delight than that of antiquity.\n\nWhat science can present greater attractions than philology? How can a\nlover of literary excellence fail to rejoice in the ancient\nmasterpieces? And with what consistency could I, whose business lies so\nmuch in the attempt to decipher the past, and to build up intelligible\nforms out of the scattered fragments of long-extinct beings, fail to\ntake a sympathetic, though an unlearned, interest in the labours of a\nNiebuhr, a Gibbon, or a Grote? Classical history is a great section of\nthe palaeontology of man; and I have the same double respect for it as\nfor other kinds of palaeontology--that is to say, a respect for the\nfacts which it establishes as for all facts, and a still greater\nrespect for it as a preparation for the discovery of a law of progress.\n\nBut if the classics were taught as they might be taught--if boys and\ngirls were instructed in Greek and Latin, not merely as languages, but\nas illustrations of philological science; if a vivid picture of life on\nthe shores of the Mediterranean two thousand years ago were imprinted\non the minds of scholars; if ancient history were taught, not as a\nweary series of feuds and fights, but traced to its causes in such men\nplaced under such conditions; if, lastly, the study of the classical\nbooks were followed in such a manner as to impress boys with their\nbeauties, and with the grand simplicity of their statement of the\neverlasting problems of human life, instead of with their verbal and\ngrammatical peculiarities; I still think it as little proper that they\nshould form the basis of a liberal education for our contemporaries, as\nI should think it fitting to make that sort of palaeontology with which\nI am familiar the back-bone of modern education.\n\nIt is wonderful how close a parallel to classical training could be\nmade out of that palaeontology to which I refer. In the first place I\ncould get up an osteological primer so arid, so pedantic in its\nterminology, so altogether distasteful to the youthful mind, as to beat\nthe recent famous production of the head-masters out of the field in\nall these excellences. Next, I could exercise my boys upon easy\nfossils, and bring out all their powers of memory and all their\ningenuity in the application of my osteo-grammatical rules to the\ninterpretation, or construing, of those fragments. To those who had\nreached the higher classes, I might supply odd bones to be built up\ninto animals, giving great honour and reward to him who succeeded in\nfabricating monsters most entirely in accordance with the rules. That\nwould answer to verse-making and essay-writing in the dead languages.\n\nTo be sure, if a great comparative anatomist were to look at these\nfabrications he might shake his head, or laugh. But what then? Would\nsuch a catastrophe destroy the parallel? What, think you, would Cicero,\nor Horace, say to the production of the best sixth form going? And\nwould not Terence stop his ears and run out if he could be present at\nan English performance of his own plays? Would _Hamlet_, in the\nmouths of a set of French actors, who should insist on pronouncing\nEnglish after the fashion of their own tongue, be more hideously\nridiculous?\n\nBut it will be said that I am forgetting the beauty, and the human\ninterest, which appertain to classical studies. To this I reply that it\nis only a very strong man who can appreciate the charms of a landscape\nas he is toiling up a steep hill, along a bad road. What with\nshort-windedness, stones, ruts, and a pervading sense of the wisdom of\nrest and be thankful, most of us have little enough sense of the\nbeautiful under these circumstances. The ordinary schoolboy is\nprecisely in this case. He finds Parnassus uncommonly steep, and there\nis no chance of his having much time or inclination to look about him\ntill he gets to the top. And nine times out of ten he does not get to\nthe top.\n\nBut if this be a fair picture of the results of classical teaching at\nits best--and I gather from those who have authority to speak on such\nmatters that it is so--what is to be said of classical teaching at its\nworst, or in other words, of the classics of our ordinary middle-class\nschools? [1] I will tell you. It means getting up endless forms and\nrules by heart. It means turning Latin and Greek into English, for the\nmere sake of being able to do it, and without the smallest regard to\nthe worth, or worthlessness, of the author read. It means the learning\nof innumerable, not always decent, fables in such a shape that the\nmeaning they once had is dried up into utter trash; and the only\nimpression left upon a boy's mind is, that the people who believed such\nthings must have been the greatest idiots the world ever saw. And it\nmeans, finally, that after a dozen years spent at this kind of work,\nthe sufferer shall be incompetent to interpret a passage in an author\nhe has not already got up; that he shall loathe the sight of a Greek or\nLatin book; and that he shall never open, or think of, a classical\nwriter again, until, wonderful to relate, he insists upon submitting\nhis sons to the same process.\n\nThese be your gods, O Israel! For the sake of this net result (and\nrespectability) the British father denies his children all the\nknowledge they might turn to account in life, not merely for the\nachievement of vulgar success, but for guidance in the great crises of\nhuman existence. This is the stone he offers to those whom he is bound\nby the strongest and tenderest ties to feed with bread.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIf primary and secondary education are in this unsatisfactory state,\nwhat is to be said to the universities? This is an awful subject, and\none I almost fear to touch with my unhallowed hands; but I can tell you\nwhat those say who have authority to speak.\n\nThe Rector of Lincoln College, in his lately published valuable\n\"Suggestions for Academical Organisation with especial reference to\nOxford,\" tells us (p. 127):--\n\n\"The colleges were, in their origin, endowments, not for the elements\nof a general liberal education, but for the prolonged study of special\nand professional faculties by men of riper age. The universities\nembraced both these objects. The colleges, while they incidentally\naided in elementary education, were specially devoted to the highest\nlearning....\n\n\"This was the theory of the middle-age university and the design of\ncollegiate foundations in their origin. Time and circumstances have\nbrought about a total change. The colleges no longer promote the\nresearches of science, or direct professional study. Here and there\ncollege walls may shelter an occasional student, but not in larger\nproportions than may be found in private life. Elementary teaching of\nyouths under twenty is now the only function performed by the\nuniversity, and almost the only object of college endowments. Colleges\nwere homes for the life-study of the highest and most abstruse parts of\nknowledge. They have become boarding schools in which the elements of\nthe learned languages are taught to youths.\"\n\nIf Mr. Pattison's high position, and his obvious love and respect for\nhis university, be insufficient to convince the outside world that\nlanguage so severe is yet no more than just, the authority of the\nCommissioners who reported on the University of Oxford in 1850 is open\nto no challenge. Yet they write:--\n\n\"It is generally acknowledged that both Oxford and the country at large\nsuffer greatly from the absence of a body of learned men devoting their\nlives to the cultivation of science, and to the direction of academical\neducation.\n\n\"The fact that so few books of profound research emanate from the\nUniversity of Oxford, materially impairs its character as a seat of\nlearning, and consequently its hold on the respect of the nation.\"\n\nCambridge can claim no exemption from the reproaches addressed to\nOxford. And thus there seems no escape from the admission that what we\nfondly call our great seats of learning are simply \"boarding schools\"\nfor bigger boys; that learned men are not more numerous in them than\nout of them; that the advancement of knowledge is not the object of\nfellows of colleges; that, in the philosophic calm and meditative\nstillness of their greenswarded courts, philosophy does not thrive, and\nmeditation bears few fruits.\n\nIt is my great good fortune to reckon amongst my friends resident\nmembers of both universities, who are men of learning and research,\nzealous cultivators of science, keeping before their minds a noble\nideal of a university, and doing their best to make that ideal a\nreality; and, to me, they would necessarily typify the universities,\ndid not the authoritative statements I have quoted compel me to believe\nthat they are exceptional, and not representative men. Indeed, upon\ncalm consideration, several circumstances lead me to think that the\nRector of Lincoln College and the Commissioners cannot be far wrong.\n\nI believe there can be no doubt that the foreigner who should wish to\nbecome acquainted with the scientific, or the literary, activity of\nmodern England, would simply lose his time and his pains if he visited\nour universities with that object.\n\nAnd, as for works of profound research on any subject, and, above all,\nin that classical lore for which the universities profess to sacrifice\nalmost everything else, why, a third-rate, poverty-stricken German\nuniversity turns out more produce of that kind in one year, than our\nvast and wealthy foundations elaborate in ten.\n\nAsk the man who is investigating any question, profoundly and\nthoroughly--be it historical, philosophical, philological, physical,\nliterary, or theological; who is trying to make himself master of any\nabstract subject (except, perhaps, political economy and geology, both\nof which are intensely Anglican sciences), whether he is not compelled\nto read half a dozen times as many German as English books? And\nwhether, of these English books, more than one in ten is the work of a\nfellow of a college, or a professor of an English university?\n\nIs this from any lack of power in the English as compared with the\nGerman mind? The countrymen of Grote and of Mill, of Faraday, of Robert\nBrown, of Lyell, and of Darwin, to go no further back than the\ncontemporaries of men of middle age, can afford to smile at such a\nsuggestion. England can show now, as she has been able to show in every\ngeneration since civilisation spread over the West, individual men who\nhold their own against the world, and keep alive the old tradition of\nher intellectual eminence.\n\nBut, in the majority of cases, these men are what they are in virtue of\ntheir native intellectual force, and of a strength of character which\nwill not recognise impediments. They are not trained in the courts of\nthe Temple of Science, but storm the walls of that edifice in all sorts\nof irregular ways, and with much loss of time and power, in order to\nobtain their legitimate positions.\n\nOur universities not only do not encourage such men; do not offer them\npositions, in which it should be their highest duty to do, thoroughly,\nthat which they are most capable of doing; but, as far as possible,\nuniversity training shuts out of the minds of those among them, who are\nsubjected to it, the prospect that there is anything in the world for\nwhich they are specially fitted. Imagine the success of the attempt to\nstill the intellectual hunger of any of the men I have mentioned, by\nputting before him, as the object of existence, the successful mimicry\nof the measure of a Greek song, or the roll of Ciceronian prose!\nImagine how much success would be likely to attend the attempt to\npersuade such men that the education which leads to perfection in such\nelegances is alone to be called culture; while the facts of history,\nthe process of thought, the conditions of moral and social existence,\nand the laws of physical nature are left to be dealt with as they may\nby outside barbarians!\n\nIt is not thus that the German universities, from being beneath notice\na century ago, have become what they are now--the most intensely\ncultivated and the most productive intellectual corporations the world\nhas ever seen.\n\nThe student who repairs to them sees in the list of classes and of\nprofessors a fair picture of the world of knowledge. Whatever he needs\nto know there is some one ready to teach him, some one competent to\ndiscipline him in the way of learning; whatever his special bent, let\nhim but be able and diligent, and in due time he shall find distinction\nand a career. Among his professors, he sees men whose names are known\nand revered throughout the civilised world; and their living example\ninfects him with a noble ambition, and a love for the spirit of work.\n\nThe Germans dominate the intellectual world by virtue of the same\nsimple secret as that which made Napoleon the master of old Europe.\nThey have declared _la carri\u00e8re ouverte aux talents_, and every\nBursch marches with a professor's gown in his knapsack. Let him become\na great scholar, or man of science, and ministers will compete for his\nservices. In Germany, they do not leave the chance of his holding the\noffice he would render illustrious to the tender mercies of a hot\ncanvass, and the final wisdom of a mob of country parsons.\n\nIn short, in Germany, the universities are exactly what the Rector of\nLincoln and the Commissioners tell us the English universities are not;\nthat is to say, corporations \"of learned men devoting their lives to\nthe cultivation of science, and the direction of academical\neducation.\" They are not \"boarding schools for youths,\" nor clerical\nseminaries; but institutions for the higher culture of men, in which\nthe theological faculty is of no more importance, or prominence, than\nthe rest; and which are truly \"universities,\" since they strive to\nrepresent and embody the totality of human knowledge, and to find room\nfor all forms of intellectual activity.\n\nMay zealous and clear-headed reformers like Mr. Pattison succeed in\ntheir noble endeavours to shape our universities towards some such\nideal as this, without losing what is valuable and distinctive in their\nsocial tone! But until they have succeeded, a liberal education will be\nno more obtainable in our Oxford and Cambridge Universities than in our\npublic schools.\n\nIf I am justified in my conception of the ideal of a liberal education;\nand if what I have said about the existing educational institutions of\nthe country is also true, it is clear that the two have no sort of\nrelation to one another; that the best of our schools and the most\ncomplete of our university trainings give but a narrow, one-sided, and\nessentially illiberal education--while the worst give what is really\nnext to no education at all. The South London Working-Men's College\ncould not copy any of these institutions if it would; I am bold enough\nto express the conviction that it ought not if it could.\n\nFor what is wanted is the reality and not the mere name of a liberal\neducation; and this College must steadily set before itself the\nambition to be able to give that education sooner or later. At present\nwe are but beginning, sharpening our educational tools, as it were,\nand, except a modicum of physical science, we are not able to offer\nmuch more than is to be found in an ordinary school.\n\nMoral and social science--one of the greatest and most fruitful of our\nfuture classes, I hope--at present lacks only one thing in our\nprogramme, and that is a teacher. A considerable want, no doubt; but it\nmust be recollected that it is much better to want a teacher than to\nwant the desire to learn.\n\nFurther, we need what, for want of a better name, I must call\nPhysical Geography. What I mean is that which the Germans call\n\"_Erdkunde_.\" It is a description of the earth, of its place and\nrelation to other bodies; of its general structure, and of its great\nfeatures--winds, tides, mountains, plains: of the chief forms of the\nvegetable and animal worlds, of the varieties of man. It is the peg\nupon which the greatest quantity of useful and entertaining scientific\ninformation can be suspended.\n\nLiterature is not upon the College programme; but I hope some day to\nsee it there. For literature is the greatest of all sources of refined\npleasure, and one of the great uses of a liberal education is to enable\nus to enjoy that pleasure. There is scope enough for the purposes of\nliberal education in the study of the rich treasures of our own\nlanguage alone. All that is needed is direction, and the cultivation of\na refined taste by attention to sound criticism. But there is no reason\nwhy French and German should not be mastered sufficiently to read what\nis worth reading in those languages with pleasure and with profit.\n\nAnd finally, by and by, we must have History; treated not as a\nsuccession of battles and dynasties; not as a series of biographies;\nnot as evidence that Providence has always been on the side of either\nWhigs or Tories; but as the development of man in times past, and in\nother conditions than our own.\n\nBut, as it is one of the principles of our College to be\nself-supporting, the public must lead, and we must follow, in these\nmatters. If my hearers take to heart what I have said about liberal\neducation, they will desire these things, and I doubt not we shall be\nable to supply them. But we must wait till the demand is made.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] For a justification of what is here said about these\nschools, see that valuable book, _Essays on a Liberal Education,\npassim_.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nSCIENTIFIC EDUCATION: NOTES OF AN AFTER-DINNER SPEECH\n\n[1869]\n\n\n    [Mr. Thackeray, talking of after-dinner speeches, has lamented that\n    \"one never can recollect the fine things one thought of in the\n    cab,\" in going to the place of entertainment. I am not aware that\n    there are any \"fine things\" in the following pages, but such as\n    there are stand to a speech which really did get itself spoken, at\n    the hospitable table of the Liverpool Philomathic Society, more or\n    less in the position of what \"one thought of in the cab.\"]\n\n\nThe introduction of scientific training into the general education of\nthe country is a topic upon which I could not have spoken, without some\nmore or less apologetic introduction, a few years ago. But upon this,\nas upon other matters, public opinion has of late undergone a rapid\nmodification. Committees of both Houses of the Legislature have agreed\nthat something must be done in this direction, and have even thrown out\ntimid and faltering suggestions as to what should be done; while at the\nopposite pole of society, committees of working men have expressed\ntheir conviction that scientific training is the one thing needful for\ntheir advancement, whether as men, or as workmen. Only the other day,\nit was my duty to take part in the reception of a deputation of London\nworking men, who desired to learn from Sir Roderick Murchison, the\nDirector of the Royal School of Mines, whether the organisation of the\nInstitution in Jermyn Street could be made available for the supply of\nthat scientific instruction the need of which could not have been\napprehended, or stated, more clearly than it was by them.\n\nThe heads of colleges in our great universities (who have not the\nreputation of being the most mobile of persons) have, in several cases,\nthought it well that, out of the great number of honours and rewards at\ntheir disposal, a few should hereafter be given to the cultivators of\nthe physical sciences. Nay, I hear that some colleges have even gone so\nfar as to appoint one, or, maybe, two special tutors for the purpose of\nputting the facts and principles of physical science before the\nundergraduate mind. And I say it with gratitude and great respect for\nthose eminent persons, that the head masters of our public schools,\nEton, Harrow, Winchester, have addressed themselves to the problem of\nintroducing instruction in physical science among the studies of those\ngreat educational bodies, with much honesty of purpose and\nenlightenment of understanding; and I live in hope that, before long,\nimportant changes in this direction will be carried into effect in\nthose strongholds of ancient prescription. In fact, such changes have\nalready been made, and physical science, even now, constitutes a\nrecognised element of the school curriculum in Harrow and Rugby, whilst\nI understand that ample preparations for such studies are being made at\nEton and elsewhere.\n\nLooking at these facts, I might perhaps spare myself the trouble of\ngiving any reasons for the introduction of physical science into\nelementary education; yet I cannot but think that it may be well if I\nplace before you some considerations which, perhaps, have hardly\nreceived full attention.\n\nAt other times, and in other places, I have endeavoured to state the\nhigher and more abstract arguments, by which the study of physical\nscience may be shown to be indispensable to the complete training of\nthe human mind; but I do not wish it to be supposed that, because I\nhappen to be devoted to more or less abstract and \"unpractical\"\npursuits, I am insensible to the weight which ought to be attached\nto that which has been said to be the English conception of\nParadise--namely, \"getting on.\" I look upon it, that \"getting on\" is a\nvery important matter indeed. I do not mean merely for the sake of the\ncoarse and tangible results of success, but because humanity is so\nconstituted that a vast number of us would never be impelled to those\nstretches of exertion which make, us wiser and more capable men, if it\nwere not for the absolute necessity of putting on our faculties all the\nstrain they will bear, for the purpose of \"getting on\" in the most\npractical sense.\n\nNow the value of a knowledge of physical science as a means of getting\non is indubitable. There are hardly any of our trades, except the\nmerely huckstering ones, in which some knowledge of science may not be\ndirectly profitable to the pursuer of that occupation. As industry\nattains higher stages of its development, as its processes become more\ncomplicated and refined, and competition more keen, the sciences are\ndragged in, one by one, to take their share in the fray; and he who can\nbest avail himself of their help is the man who will come out uppermost\nin that struggle for existence, which goes on as fiercely beneath the\nsmooth surface of modern society, as among the wild inhabitants of the\nwoods.\n\nBut in addition to the bearing of science on ordinary practical life,\nlet me direct your attention to its immense influence on several of the\nprofessions. I ask any one who has adopted the calling of an engineer,\nhow much time he lost when he left school, because he had to devote\nhimself to pursuits which were absolutely novel and strange, and of\nwhich he had not obtained the remotest conception from his instructors?\nHe had to familiarise himself with ideas of the course and powers of\nNature, to which his attention had never been directed during his\nschool-life, and to learn, for the first time, that a world of facts\nlies outside and beyond the world of words. I appeal to those who know\nwhat engineering is, to say how far I am right in respect to that\nprofession; but with regard to another, of no less importance, I shall\nventure to speak of my own knowledge. There is no one of us who may not\nat any moment be thrown, bound hand and foot by physical incapacity,\ninto the hands of a medical practitioner. The chances of life and death\nfor all and each of us may, at any moment, depend on the skill with\nwhich that practitioner is able to make out what is wrong in our bodily\nframes, and on his ability to apply the proper remedy to the defect.\n\nThe necessities of modern life are such, and the class from which the\nmedical profession is chiefly recruited is so situated, that few\nmedical men can hope to spend more than three or four, or it may be\nfive, years in the pursuit of those studies which are immediately\ngermane to physic. How is that all too brief period spent at present? I\nspeak as an old examiner, having served some eleven or twelve years in\nthat capacity in the University of London, and therefore having a\npractical acquaintance with the subject; but I might fortify myself by\nthe authority of the President of the College of Surgeons, Mr. Quain,\nwhom I heard the other day in an admirable address (the Hunterian\nOration) deal fully and wisely with this very topic. [1]\n\nA young man commencing the study of medicine is at once required to\nendeavour to make an acquaintance with a number of sciences, such as\nPhysics, as Chemistry, as Botany, as Physiology, which are absolutely\nand entirely strange to him, however excellent his so-called education\nat school may have been. Not only is he devoid of all apprehension of\nscientific conceptions, not only does he fail to attach any meaning to\nthe words \"matter,\" \"force,\" or \"law\" in their scientific senses, but,\nworse still, he has no notion of what it is to come into contact with\nNature, or to lay his mind alongside of a physical fact, and try to\nconquer it, in the way our great naval hero told his captains to master\ntheir enemies. His whole mind has been given to books, and I am hardly\nexaggerating if I say that they are more real to him than Nature. He\nimagines that all knowledge can be got out of books, and rests upon the\nauthority of some master or other; nor does he entertain any misgiving\nthat the method of learning which led to proficiency in the rules of\ngrammar will suffice to lead him to a mastery of the laws of Nature.\nThe youngster, thus unprepared for serious study, is turned loose among\nhis medical studies, with the result, in nine cases out of ten, that\nthe first year of his curriculum is spent in learning how to learn.\nIndeed, he is lucky if, at the end of the first year, by the exertions\nof his teachers and his own industry, he has acquired even that art of\narts. After which there remain not more than three, or perhaps four,\nyears for the profitable study of such vast sciences as Anatomy,\nPhysiology, Therapeutics, Medicine, Surgery, Obstetrics, and the like,\nupon his knowledge or ignorance of which it depends whether the\npractitioner shall diminish, or increase, the bills of mortality. Now\nwhat is it but the preposterous condition of ordinary school education\nwhich prevents a young man of seventeen, destined for the practice of\nmedicine, from being fully prepared for the study of Nature; and from\ncoming to the medical school, equipped with that preliminary knowledge\nof the principles of Physics, of Chemistry and of Biology, upon which\nhe has now to waste one of the precious years, every moment of which\nought to be given to those studies which bear directly upon the\nknowledge of his profession?\n\nThere is another profession, to the members of which, I think, a\ncertain preliminary knowledge of physical science might be quite as\nvaluable as to the medical man. The practitioner of medicine sets\nbefore himself the noble object of taking care of man's bodily welfare;\nbut the members of this other profession undertake to \"minister to\nminds diseased,\" and, so far as may be, to diminish sin and soften\nsorrow. Like the medical profession, the clerical, of which I now\nspeak, rests its power to heal upon its knowledge of the order of the\nuniverse--upon certain theories of man's relation to that which lies\noutside him. It is not my business to express any opinion about these\ntheories. I merely wish to point out that, like all other theories,\nthey are professedly based upon matters of fact. Thus the clerical\nprofession has to deal with the facts of Nature from a certain point of\nview; and hence it comes into contact with that of the man of science,\nwho has to treat the same facts from another point of view. You know\nhow often that contact is to be described as collision, or violent\nfriction; and how great the heat, how little the light, which commonly\nresults from it.\n\nIn the interests of fair play, to say nothing of those of mankind, I\nask, Why do not the clergy as a body acquire, as a part of their\npreliminary education, some such tincture of physical science as will\nput them in a position to understand the difficulties in the way of\naccepting their theories, which are forced upon the mind of every\nthoughtful and intelligent man, who has taken the trouble to instruct\nhimself in the elements of natural knowledge?\n\nSome time ago I attended a large meeting of the clergy, for the purpose\nof delivering an address which I had been invited to give. I spoke of\nsome of the most elementary facts in physical science, and of the\nmanner in which they directly contradict certain of the ordinary\nteachings of the clergy. The result was, that, after I had finished,\none section of the assembled ecclesiastics attacked me with all the\nintemperance of pious zeal, for stating facts and conclusions which no\ncompetent judge doubts; while, after the first speakers had subsided,\namidst the cheers of the great majority of their colleagues, the more\nrational minority rose to tell me that I had taken wholly superfluous\npains, that they already knew all about what I had told them, and\nperfectly agreed with me. A hard-headed friend of mine, who was\npresent, put the not unnatural question, \"Then why don't you say so in\nyour pulpits?\" to which inquiry I heard no reply.\n\nIn fact the clergy are at present divisible into three sections: an\nimmense body who are ignorant and speak out; a small proportion who\nknow and are silent; and a minute minority who know and speak according\nto their knowledge. By the clergy, I mean especially the Protestant\nclergy. Our great antagonist--I speak as a man of science--the Roman\nCatholic Church, the one great spiritual organisation which is able to\nresist, and must, as a matter of life and death, resist, the progress\nof science and modern civilisation, manages her affairs much better.\n\nIt was my fortune some time ago to pay a visit to one of the most\nimportant of the institutions in which the clergy of the Roman Catholic\nChurch in these islands are trained; and it seemed to me that the\ndifference between these men and the comfortable champions of\nAnglicanism and of Dissent, was comparable to the difference between\nour gallant Volunteers and the trained veterans of Napoleon's Old\nGuard.\n\nThe Catholic priest is trained to know his business, and do it\neffectually. The professors of the college in question, learned,\nzealous, and determined men, permitted me to speak frankly with them.\nWe talked like outposts of opposed armies during a truce--as friendly\nenemies; and when I ventured to point out the difficulties their\nstudents would have to encounter from scientific thought, they replied:\n\"Our Church has lasted many ages, and has passed safely through many\nstorms. The present is but a new gust of the old tempest, and we do not\nturn out our young men less fitted to weather it, than they have been,\nin former times, to cope with the difficulties of those times. The\nheresies of the day are explained to them by their professors of\nphilosophy and science, and they are taught how those heresies are to\nbe met.\"\n\nI heartily respect an organisation which faces its enemies in this way;\nand I wish that all ecclesiastical organisations were in as effective a\ncondition. I think it would be better, not only for them, but for us.\nThe army of liberal thought is, at present, in very loose order; and\nmany a spirited free-thinker makes use of his freedom mainly to vent\nnonsense. We should be the better for a vigorous and watchful enemy to\nhammer us into cohesion and discipline; and I, for one, lament that the\nbench of Bishops cannot show a man of the calibre of Butler of the\n\"Analogy,\" who, if he were alive, would make short work of much of the\ncurrent _\u00e0 priori_ \"infidelity.\"\n\nI hope you will consider that the arguments I have now stated, even if\nthere were no better ones, constitute a sufficient apology for urging\nthe introduction of science into schools. The next question to which I\nhave to address myself is, What sciences ought to be thus taught? And\nthis is one of the most important of questions, because my side (I am\nafraid I am a terribly candid friend) sometimes spoils its cause by\ngoing in for too much. There are other forms of culture beside physical\nscience; and I should be profoundly sorry to see the fact forgotten, or\neven to observe a tendency to starve, or cripple, literary, or\naesthetic, culture for the sake of science. Such a narrow view of the\nnature of education has nothing to do with my firm conviction that a\ncomplete and thorough scientific culture ought to be introduced into\nall schools. By this, however, I do not mean that every schoolboy\nshould be taught everything in science. That would be a very absurd\nthing to conceive, and a very mischievous thing to attempt. What I mean\nis, that no boy nor girl should leave school without possessing a grasp\nof the general character of science, and without having been\ndisciplined, more or less, in the methods of all sciences; so that,\nwhen turned into the world to make their own way, they shall be\nprepared to face scientific problems, not by knowing at once the\nconditions of every problem, or by being able at once to solve it; but\nby being familiar with the general current of scientific thought, and\nby being able to apply the methods of science in the proper way, when\nthey have acquainted themselves with the conditions of the special\nproblem.\n\nThat is what I understand by scientific education. To furnish a boy\nwith such an education, it is by no means necessary that he should\ndevote his whole school existence to physical science: in fact, no one\nwould lament so one-sided a proceeding more than I. Nay more, it is not\nnecessary for him to give up more than a moderate share of his time to\nsuch studies, if they be properly selected and arranged, and if he be\ntrained in them in a fitting manner.\n\nI conceive the proper course to be somewhat as follows. To begin with,\nlet every child be instructed in those general views of the phaenomena\nof Nature for which we have no exact English name. The nearest\napproximation to a name for what I mean, which we possess, is \"physical\ngeography.\" The Germans have a better, \"Erdkunde\" (\"earth knowledge\" or\n\"geology\" in its etymological sense), that is to say, a general\nknowledge of the earth, and what is on it, in it, and about it. If any\none who has had experience of the ways of young children will call to\nmind their questions, he will find that so far as they can be put into\nany scientific category, they come under this head of \"Erdkunde.\" The\nchild asks, \"What is the moon, and why does it shine?\" \"What is this\nwater, and where does it run?\" \"What is the wind?\" \"What makes this\nwaves in the sea?\" \"Where does this animal live, and what is the use of\nthat plant?\" And if not snubbed and stunted by being told not to ask\nfoolish questions, there is no limit to the intellectual craving of a\nyoung child; nor any bounds to the slow, but solid, accretion of\nknowledge and development of the thinking faculty in this way. To all\nsuch questions, answers which are necessarily incomplete, though true\nas far as they go, may be given by any teacher whose ideas represent\nreal knowledge and not mere book learning; and a panoramic view of\nNature, accompanied by a strong infusion of the scientific habit of\nmind, may thus be placed within the reach of every child of nine or\nten.\n\nAfter this preliminary opening of the eyes to the great spectacle\nof the daily progress of Nature, as the reasoning faculties of the\nchild grow, and he becomes familiar with the use of the tools of\nknowledge--reading, writing, and elementary mathematics--he should pass\non to what is, in the more strict sense, physical science. Now there\nare two kinds of physical science: the one regards form and the\nrelation of forms to one another; the other deals with causes and\neffects. In many of what we term sciences, these two kinds are mixed up\ntogether; but systematic botany is a pure example of the former kind,\nand physics of the latter kind, of science. Every educational advantage\nwhich training in physical science can give is obtainable from the\nproper study of these two; and I should be contented, for the present,\nif they, added to our \"Erdkunde,\" furnished the whole of the scientific\ncurriculum of school. Indeed, I conceive it would be one of the\ngreatest boons which could be conferred upon England, if henceforward\nevery child in the country were instructed in the general knowledge of\nthe things about it, in the elements of physics, and of botany. But I\nshould be still better pleased if there could be added somewhat of\nchemistry, and an elementary acquaintance with human physiology.\n\nSo far as school education is concerned, I want to go no further just\nnow; and I believe that such instruction would make an excellent\nintroduction to that preparatory scientific training which, as I have\nindicated, is so essential for the successful pursuit of our most\nimportant professions. But this modicum of instruction must be so given\nas to ensure real knowledge and practical discipline. If scientific\neducation is to be dealt with as mere bookwork, it will be better not\nto attempt it, but to stick to the Latin Grammar which makes no\npretence to be anything but bookwork.\n\nIf the great benefits of scientific training are sought, it is\nessential that such training should be real: that is to say, that the\nmind of the scholar should be brought into direct relation with fact,\nthat he should not merely be told a thing, but made to see by the use\nof his own intellect and ability that the thing is so and no otherwise.\nThe great peculiarity of scientific training, that in virtue of which\nit cannot be replaced by any other discipline whatsoever, is this\nbringing of the mind directly into contact with fact, and practising\nthe intellect in the completest form of induction; that is to say, in\ndrawing conclusions from particular facts made known by immediate\nobservation of Nature.\n\nThe other studies which enter into ordinary education do not discipline\nthe mind in this way. Mathematical training is almost purely deductive.\nThe mathematician starts with a few simple propositions, the proof of\nwhich is so obvious that they are called self-evident, and the rest of\nhis work consists of subtle deductions from them. The teaching of\nlanguages, at any rate as ordinarily practised, is of the same general\nnature,--authority and tradition furnish the data, and the mental\noperations of the scholar are deductive.\n\nAgain: if history be the subject of study, the facts are still taken\nupon the evidence of tradition and authority. You cannot make a boy see\nthe battle of Thermopylae for himself, or know, of his own knowledge,\nthat Cromwell once ruled England. There is no getting into direct\ncontact with natural fact by this road; there is no dispensing with\nauthority, but rather a resting upon it.\n\nIn all these respects, science differs from other educational\ndiscipline, and prepares the scholar for common life. What have we to\ndo in every-day life? Most of the business which demands our attention\nis matter of fact, which needs, in the first place, to be accurately\nobserved or apprehended; in the second, to be interpreted by inductive\nand deductive reasonings, which are altogether similar in their nature\nto those employed in science. In the one case, as in the other,\nwhatever is taken for granted is so taken at one's own peril; fact and\nreason are the ultimate arbiters, and patience and honesty are the\ngreat helpers out of difficulty.\n\nBut if scientific training is to yield its most eminent results, it\nmust, I repeat, be made practical. That is to say, in explaining to a\nchild the general phaenomena of Nature, you must, as far as possible,\ngive reality to your teaching by object-lessons; in teaching him\nbotany, he must handle the plants and dissect the flowers for himself;\nin teaching him physics and chemistry, you must not be solicitous to\nfill him with information, but you must be careful that what he learns\nhe knows of his own knowledge. Don't be satisfied with telling him that\na magnet attracts iron. Let him see that it does; let him feel the pull\nof the one upon the other for himself. And, especially, tell him that\nit is his duty to doubt until he is compelled, by the absolute\nauthority of Nature, to believe that which is written in books. Pursue\nthis discipline carefully and conscientiously, and you may make sure\nthat, however scanty may be the measure of information which you have\npoured into the boy's mind, you have created an intellectual habit of\npriceless value in practical life.\n\nOne is constantly asked, When should this scientific education be\ncommenced? I should say with the dawn of intelligence. As I have\nalready said, a child seeks for information about matters of physical\nscience as soon as it begins to talk. The first teaching it wants is an\nobject-lesson of one sort or another; and as soon as it is fit for\nsystematic instruction of any kind, it is fit for a modicum of science.\n\nPeople talk of the difficulty of teaching young children such matters,\nand in the same breath insist upon their learning their Catechism,\nwhich contains propositions far harder to comprehend than anything in\nthe educational course I have proposed. Again: I am incessantly told\nthat we, who advocate the introduction of science in schools, make no\nallowance for the stupidity of the average boy or girl; but, in my\nbelief, that stupidity, in nine cases out of ten, \"_fit, non\nnascitur_,\" and is developed by a long process of parental and\npedagogic repression of the natural intellectual appetites,\naccompanied by a persistent attempt to create artificial ones for food\nwhich is not only tasteless, but essentially indigestible.\n\nThose who urge the difficulty of instructing young people in\nscience are apt to forget another very important condition of\nsuccess--important in all kinds of teaching, but most essential, I am\ndisposed to think, when the scholars are very young. This condition is,\nthat the teacher should himself really and practically know his\nsubject. If he does, he will be able to speak of it in the easy\nlanguage, and with the completeness of conviction, with which he talks\nof any ordinary every-day matter. If he does not, he will be afraid to\nwander beyond the limits of the technical phraseology which he has got\nup; and a dead dogmatism, which oppresses, or raises opposition, will\ntake the place of the lively confidence, born of personal conviction,\nwhich cheers and encourages the eminently sympathetic mind of\nchildhood.\n\nI have already hinted that such scientific training as we seek for may\nbe given without making any extravagant claim upon the time now devoted\nto education. We ask only for \"a most favoured nation\" clause in our\ntreaty with the schoolmaster; we demand no more than that science shall\nhave as much time given to it as any other single subject--say four\nhours a week in each class of an ordinary school.\n\nFor the present, I think men of science would be well content with such\nan arrangement as this: but speaking for myself, I do not pretend to\nbelieve that such an arrangement can be, or will be, permanent. In\nthese times the educational tree seems to me to have its roots in the\nair, its leaves and flowers in the ground; and, I confess, I should\nvery much like to turn it upside down, so that its roots might be\nsolidly embedded among the facts of Nature, and draw thence a sound\nnutriment for the foliage and fruit of literature and of art. No\neducational system can have a claim to permanence, unless it recognises\nthe truth that education has two great ends to which everything else\nmust be subordinated. The one of these is to increase knowledge; the\nother is to develop the love of right and the hatred of wrong.\n\nWith wisdom and uprightness a nation can make its way worthily, and\nbeauty will follow in the footsteps of the two, even if she be not\nspecially invited; while there is perhaps no sight in the whole world\nmore saddening and revolting than is offered by men sunk in ignorance\nof everything but what other men have written; seemingly devoid of\nmoral belief or guidance; but with the sense of beauty so keen, and the\npower of expression so cultivated, that their sensual caterwauling may\nbe almost mistaken for the music of the spheres.\n\nAt present, education is almost entirely devoted to the cultivation of\nthe power of expression, and of the sense of literary beauty. The\nmatter of having anything to say, beyond a hash of other people's\nopinions, or of possessing any criterion of beauty, so that we may\ndistinguish between the Godlike and the devilish, is left aside as of\nno moment. I think I do not err in saying that if science were made a\nfoundation of education, instead of being, at most, stuck on as cornice\nto the edifice, this state of things could not exist.\n\nIn advocating the introduction of physical science as a leading element\nin education, I by no means refer only to the higher schools. On the\ncontrary, I believe that such a change is even more imperatively called\nfor in those primary schools, in which the children of the poor are\nexpected to turn to the best account the little time they can devote to\nthe acquisition of knowledge. A great step in this direction has\nalready been made by the establishment of science-classes under the\nDepartment of Science and Art,--a measure which came into existence\nunnoticed, but which will, I believe, turn out to be of more importance\nto the welfare of the people than many political changes over which the\nnoise of battle has rent the air.\n\nUnder the regulations to which I refer, a schoolmaster can set up a\nclass in one or more branches of science; his pupils will be examined,\nand the State will pay him, at a certain rate, for all who succeed in\npassing. I have acted as an examiner under this system from the\nbeginning of its establishment, and this year I expect to have not\nfewer than a couple of thousand sets of answers to questions in\nPhysiology, mainly from young people of the artisan class, who have\nbeen taught in the schools which are now scattered all over great\nBritain and Ireland. Some of my colleagues, who have to deal with\nsubjects such as Geometry, for which the present teaching power is\nbetter organised, I understand are likely to have three or four times\nas many papers. So far as my own subjects are concerned, I can\nundertake to say that a great deal of the teaching, the results of\nwhich are before me in these examinations, is very sound and good; and\nI think it is in the power of the examiners, not only to keep up the\npresent standard, but to cause an almost unlimited improvement. Now\nwhat does this mean? It means that by holding out a very moderate\ninducement, the masters of primary schools in many parts of the country\nhave been led to convert them into little foci of scientific\ninstruction; and that they and their pupils have contrived to find, or\nto make, time enough to carry out this object with a very considerable\ndegree of efficiency. That efficiency will, I doubt not, be very much\nincreased as the system becomes known and perfected, even with the very\nlimited leisure left to masters and teachers on week-days. And this\nleads me to ask, Why should scientific teaching be limited to\nweek-days?\n\nEcclesiastically-minded persons are in the habit of calling things they\ndo not like by very hard names, and I should not wonder if they brand\nthe proposition I am about to make as blasphemous, and worse. But, not\nminding this, I venture to ask, Would there really be anything wrong in\nusing part of Sunday for the purpose of instructing those who have no\nother leisure, in a knowledge of the phaenomena of Nature, and of man's\nrelation to Nature?\n\nI should like to see a scientific Sunday-school in every parish, not\nfor the purpose of superseding any existing means of teaching the\npeople the things that are for their good, but side by side with them.\nI cannot but think that there is room for all of us to work in helping\nto bridge over the great abyss of ignorance which lies at our feet.\n\nAnd if any of the ecclesiastical persons to whom I have referred,\nobject that they find it derogatory to the honour of the God whom they\nworship, to awaken the minds of the young to the infinite wonder and\nmajesty of the works which they proclaim His, and to teach them those\nlaws which must needs be His laws, and therefore of all things needful\nfor man to know--I can only recommend them to be let blood and put on\nlow diet. There must be something very wrong going on in the instrument\nof logic if it turns out such conclusions from such premises.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] Mr. Quam's words (_Medical Times and Gazette_, February 20)\nare:--\"A few words as to our special Medical course of instruction\nand the influence upon it of such changes in the elementary schools as\nI have mentioned. The student now enters at once upon several\nsciences--physics, chemistry, anatomy, physiology, botany, pharmacy,\ntherapeutics--all these, the facts and the language and the laws of\neach, to be mastered in eighteen months. Up to the beginning of the\nMedical course many have learned little. We cannot claim anything\nbetter than the Examiner of the University of London and the Cambridge\nLecturer have reported for their Universities. Supposing that at school\nyoung people had acquired some exact elementary knowledge in physics,\nchemistry, and a branch of natural history--say botany--with the\nphysiology connected with it, they would then have gained necessary\nknowledge, with some practice in inductive reasoning. The whole studies\nare processes of observation and induction--the best discipline of the\nmind for the purposes of life--for our purposes not less than any. 'By\nsuch study (says Dr. Whewell) of one or more departments of inductive\nscience the mind may escape from the thraldom of mere words.' By that\nplan the burden of the early Medical course would be much lightened,\nand more time devoted to practical studies, including Sir Thomas\nWatson's 'final and supreme stage' of the knowledge of Medicine.\"\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nSCIENCE AND CULTURE\n\n[1880]\n\n\nSix years ago, as some of my present hearers may remember, I had the\nprivilege of addressing a large assemblage of the inhabitants of this\ncity, who had gathered together to do honour to the memory of their\nfamous townsman, Joseph Priestley; [1] and, if any satisfaction\nattaches to posthumous glory, we may hope that the manes of the\nburnt-out philosopher were then finally appeased.\n\nNo man, however, who is endowed with a fair share of common sense, and\nnot more than a fair share of vanity, will identify either contemporary\nor posthumous fame with the highest good; and Priestley's life leaves\nno doubt that he, at any rate, set a much higher value upon the\nadvancement of knowledge, and the promotion of that freedom of thought\nwhich is at once the cause and the consequence of intellectual\nprogress.\n\nHence I am disposed to think that, if Priestley could be amongst us\nto-day, the occasion of our meeting would afford him even greater\npleasure than the proceedings which celebrated the centenary of his\nchief discovery. The kindly heart would be moved, the high sense of\nsocial duty would be satisfied, by the spectacle of well-earned wealth,\nneither squandered in tawdry luxury and vainglorious show, nor\nscattered with the careless charity which blesses neither him that\ngives nor him that takes, but expended in the execution of a\nwell-considered plan for the aid of present and future generations of\nthose who are willing to help themselves.\n\nWe shall all be of one mind thus far. But it is needful to share\nPriestley's keen interest in physical science; and to have learned, as\nhe had learned, the value of scientific training in fields of inquiry\napparently far remote from physical science; in order to appreciate, as\nhe would have appreciated, the value of the noble gift which Sir Josiah\nMason has bestowed upon the inhabitants of the Midland district.\n\nFor us children of the nineteenth century, however, the establishment\nof a college under the conditions of Sir Josiah Mason's Trust, has a\nsignificance apart from any which it could have possessed a hundred\nyears ago. It appears to be an indication that we are reaching the\ncrisis of the battle, or rather of the long series of battles, which\nhave been fought over education in a campaign which began long before\nPriestley's time, and will probably not be finished just yet.\n\nIn the last century, the combatants were the champions of ancient\nliterature on the one side, and those of modern literature on the\nother; but, some thirty years [2] ago, the contest became complicated\nby the appearance of a third army, ranged round the banner of Physical\nScience.\n\nI am not aware that any one has authority to speak in the name of this\nnew host. For it must be admitted to be somewhat of a guerilla force,\ncomposed largely of irregulars, each of whom fights pretty much for his\nown hand. But the impressions of a full private, who has seen a good\ndeal of service in the ranks, respecting the present position of\naffairs and the conditions of a permanent peace, may not be devoid of\ninterest; and I do not know that I could make a better use of the\npresent opportunity than by laying them before you.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFrom the time that the first suggestion to introduce physical science\ninto ordinary education was timidly whispered, until now, the advocates\nof scientific education have met with opposition of two kinds. On the\none hand, they have been pooh-poohed by the men of business who pride\nthemselves on being the representatives of practicality; while, on the\nother hand, they have been excommunicated by the classical scholars, in\ntheir capacity of Levites in charge of the ark of culture and\nmonopolists of liberal education.\n\nThe practical men believed that the idol whom they worship--rule of\nthumb--has been the source of the past prosperity, and will suffice for\nthe future welfare of the arts and manufactures. They were of opinion\nthat science is speculative rubbish; that theory and practice have\nnothing to do with one another; and that the scientific habit of mind\nis an impediment, rather than an aid, in the conduct of ordinary\naffairs.\n\nI have used the past tense in speaking of the practical men--for\nalthough they were very formidable thirty years ago, I am not sure that\nthe pure species has not been extirpated. In fact, so far as mere\nargument goes, they have been subjected to such a _feu d'enfer_\nthat it is a miracle if any have escaped. But I have remarked that your\ntypical practical man has an unexpected resemblance to one of Milton's\nangels. His spiritual wounds, such as are inflicted by logical weapons,\nmay be as deep as a well and as wide as a church door, but beyond\nshedding a few drops of ichor, celestial or otherwise, he is no whit\nthe worse. So, if any of these opponents be left, I will not waste time\nin vain repetition of the demonstrative evidence of the practical value\nof science; but knowing that a parable will sometimes penetrate where\nsyllogisms fail to effect an entrance, I will offer a story for their\nconsideration.\n\nOnce upon a time, a boy, with nothing to depend upon but his own\nvigorous nature, was thrown into the thick of the struggle for\nexistence in the midst of a great manufacturing population. He seems to\nhave had a hard fight, inasmuch as, by the time he was thirty years of\nage, his total disposable funds amounted to twenty pounds.\nNevertheless, middle life found him giving proof of his comprehension\nof the practical problems he had been roughly called upon to solve, by\na career of remarkable prosperity.\n\nFinally, having reached old age with its well-earned surroundings of\n\"honour, troops of friends,\" the hero of my story bethought himself of\nthose who were making a like start in life, and how he could stretch\nout a helping hand to them.\n\nAfter long and anxious reflection this successful practical man of\nbusiness could devise nothing better than to provide them with the\nmeans of obtaining \"sound, extensive, and practical scientific\nknowledge.\" And he devoted a large part of his wealth and five years of\nincessant work to this end.\n\nI need not point the moral of a tale which, as the solid and spacious\nfabric of the Scientific College assures us, is no fable, nor can\nanything which I could say intensify the force of this practical answer\nto practical objections.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe may take it for granted then, that, in the opinion of those best\nqualified to judge, the diffusion of thorough scientific education is\nan absolutely essential condition of industrial progress; and that the\nCollege which has been opened to-day will confer an inestimable boon\nupon those whose livelihood is to be gained by the practise of the arts\nand manufactures of the district.\n\nThe only question worth discussion is, whether the conditions, under\nwhich the work of the College is to be carried out, are such as to give\nit the best possible chance of achieving permanent success.\n\nSir Josiah Mason, without doubt most wisely, has left very large\nfreedom of action to the trustees, to whom he proposes ultimately to\ncommit the administration of the College, so that they may be able to\nadjust its arrangements in accordance with the changing conditions of\nthe future. But, with respect to three points, he has laid most\nexplicit injunctions upon both administrators and teachers.\n\nParty politics are forbidden to enter into the minds of either, so far\nas the work of the College is concerned; theology is as stonily\nbanished from its precincts; and finally, it is especially declared\nthat the College shall make no provision for \"mere literary instruction\nand education.\"\n\nIt does not concern me at present to dwell upon the first two\ninjunctions any longer than may be needful to express my full\nconviction of their wisdom. But the third prohibition brings us face to\nface with those other opponents of scientific education, who are by no\nmeans in the moribund condition of the practical man, but alive, alert,\nand formidable.\n\nIt is not impossible that we shall hear this express exclusion of\n\"literary instruction and education\" from a College which,\nnevertheless, professes to give a high and efficient education, sharply\ncriticised. Certainly the time was that the Levites of culture would\nhave sounded their trumpets against its walls as against an educational\nJericho.\n\nHow often have we not been told that the study of physical science is\nincompetent to confer culture; that it touches none of the higher\nproblems of life; and, what is worse, that the continual devotion to\nscientific studies tends to generate a narrow and bigoted belief in the\napplicability of scientific methods to the search after truth of all\nkinds? How frequently one has reason to observe that no reply to a\ntroublesome argument tells so well as calling its author a \"mere\nscientific specialist.\" And, as I am afraid it is not permissible to\nspeak of this form of opposition to scientific education in the past\ntense; may we not expect to be told that this, not only omission, but\nprohibition, of \"mere literary instruction and education\" is a patent\nexample of scientific narrow-mindedness?\n\nI am not acquainted with Sir Josiah Mason's reasons for the action\nwhich he has taken; but if, as I apprehend is the case, he refers to\nthe ordinary classical course of our schools and universities by the\nname of \"mere literary instruction and education,\" I venture to offer\nsundry reasons of my own in support of that action.\n\nFor I hold very strongly by two convictions--The first is, that neither\nthe discipline nor the subject-matter of classical education is of such\ndirect value to the student of physical science as to justify the\nexpenditure of valuable time upon either; and the second is, that for\nthe purpose of attaining real culture, an exclusively scientific\neducation is at least as effectual as an exclusively literary\neducation.\n\nI need hardly point out to you that these opinions, especially the\nlatter, are diametrically opposed to those of the great majority of\neducated Englishmen, influenced as they are by school and university\ntraditions. In their belief, culture is obtainable only by a liberal\neducation; and a liberal education is synonymous, not merely with\neducation and instruction in literature, but in one particular form of\nliterature, namely, that of Greek and Roman antiquity. They hold that\nthe man who has learned Latin and Greek, however little, is educated;\nwhile he who is versed in other branches of knowledge, however deeply,\nis a more or less respectable specialist, not admissible into the\ncultured caste. The stamp of the educated man, the University degree,\nis not for him.\n\nI am too well acquainted with the generous catholicity of spirit, the\ntrue sympathy with scientific thought, which pervades the writings of\nour chief apostle of culture to identify him with these opinions; and\nyet one may cull from one and another of those epistles to the\nPhilistines, which so much delight all who do not answer to that name,\nsentences which lend them some support.\n\nMr. Arnold tells us that the meaning of culture is \"to know the best\nthat has been thought and said in the world.\" It is the criticism of\nlife contained in literature. That criticism regards \"Europe as being,\nfor intellectual and spiritual purposes, one great confederation, bound\nto a joint action and working to a common result; and whose members\nhave, for their common outfit, a knowledge of Greek, Roman, and Eastern\nantiquity, and of one another. Special, local, and temporary advantages\nbeing put out of account, that modern nation will in the intellectual\nand spiritual sphere make most progress, which most thoroughly carries\nout this programme. And what is that but saying that we too, all of us,\nas individuals, the more thoroughly we carry it out, shall make the\nmore progress?\" [3]\n\nWe have here to deal with two distinct propositions. The first, that a\ncriticism of life is the essence of culture; the second, that\nliterature contains the materials which suffice for the construction of\nsuch a criticism.\n\nI think that we must all assent to the first proposition. For culture\ncertainly means something quite different from learning or technical\nskill. It implies the possession of an ideal, and the habit of\ncritically estimating the value of things by comparison with a\ntheoretic standard. Perfect culture should supply a complete theory of\nlife, based upon a clear knowledge alike of its possibilities and of\nits limitations.\n\nBut we may agree to all this, and yet strongly dissent from the\nassumption that literature alone is competent to supply this knowledge.\nAfter having learnt all that Greek, Roman, and Eastern antiquity have\nthought and said, and all that modern literatures have to tell us, it\nis not self-evident that we have laid a sufficiently broad and deep\nfoundation for that criticism of life, which constitutes culture.\n\nIndeed, to any one acquainted with the scope of physical science, it is\nnot at all evident. Considering progress only in the \"intellectual and\nspiritual sphere,\" I find myself wholly unable to admit that either\nnations or individuals will really advance, if their common outfit\ndraws nothing from the stores of physical science. I should say that an\narmy, without weapons of precision and with no particular base of\noperations, might more hopefully enter upon a campaign on the Rhine,\nthan a man, devoid of a knowledge of what physical science has done in\nthe last century, upon a criticism of life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen a biologist meets with an anomaly, he instinctively turns to the\nstudy of development to clear it up. The rationale of contradictory\nopinions may with equal confidence be sought in history.\n\nIt is, happily, no new thing that Englishmen should employ their wealth\nin building and endowing institutions for educational purposes. But,\nfive or six hundred years ago, deeds of foundation expressed or implied\nconditions as nearly as possible contrary to those which have been\nthought expedient by Sir Josiah Mason. That is to say, physical science\nwas practically ignored, while a certain literary training was enjoined\nas a means to the acquirement of knowledge which was essentially\ntheological.\n\nThe reason of this singular contradiction between the actions of men\nalike animated by a strong and disinterested desire to promote the\nwelfare of their fellows, is easily discovered.\n\nAt that time, in fact, if any one desired knowledge beyond such as\ncould be obtained by his own observation, or by common conversation,\nhis first necessity was to learn the Latin language, inasmuch as all\nthe higher knowledge of the western world was contained in works\nwritten in that language. Hence, Latin grammar, with logic and\nrhetoric, studied through Latin, were the fundamentals of education.\nWith respect to the substance of the knowledge imparted through this\nchannel, the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, as interpreted and\nsupplemented by the Romish Church, were held to contain a complete and\ninfallibly true body of information.\n\nTheological dicta were, to the thinkers of those days, that which the\naxioms and definitions of Euclid are to the geometers of these. The\nbusiness of the philosophers of the middle ages was to deduce from the\ndata furnished by the theologians, conclusions in accordance with\necclesiastical decrees. They were allowed the high privilege of\nshowing, by logical process, how and why that which the Church said was\ntrue, must be true. And if their demonstrations fell short of or\nexceeded this limit, the Church was maternally ready to check their\naberrations; if need were by the help of the secular arm.\n\nBetween the two, our ancestors were furnished with a compact and\ncomplete criticism of life. They were told how the world began and how\nit would end; they learned that all material existence was but a base\nand insignificant blot upon the fair face of the spiritual world, and\nthat nature was, to all intents and purposes, the play-ground of the\ndevil; they learned that the earth is the centre of the visible\nuniverse, and that man is the cynosure of things terrestrial; and more\nespecially was it inculcated that the course of nature had no fixed\norder, but that it could be, and constantly was, altered by the agency\nof innumerable spiritual beings, good and bad, according as they were\nmoved by the deeds and prayers of men. The sum and substance of the\nwhole doctrine was to produce the conviction that the only thing really\nworth knowing in this world was how to secure that place in a better\nwhich, under certain conditions, the Church promised.\n\nOur ancestors had a living belief in this theory of life, and acted\nupon it in their dealings with education, as in all other matters.\nCulture meant saintliness--after the fashion of the saints of those\ndays; the education that led to it was, of necessity, theological; and\nthe way to theology lay through Latin.\n\nThat the study of nature--further than was requisite for the\nsatisfaction of everyday wants--should have any bearing on human life\nwas far from the thoughts of men thus trained. Indeed, as nature had\nbeen cursed for man's sake, it was an obvious conclusion that those who\nmeddled with nature were likely to come into pretty close contact with\nSatan. And, if any born scientific investigator followed his instincts,\nhe might safely reckon upon earning the reputation, and probably upon\nsuffering the fate, of a sorcerer.\n\nHad the western world been left to itself in Chinese isolation, there\nis no saying how long this state of things might have endured. But,\nhappily, it was not left to itself. Even earlier than the thirteenth\ncentury, the development of Moorish civilisation in Spain and the great\nmovement of the Crusades had introduced the leaven which, from that day\nto this, has never ceased to work. At first, through the intermediation\nof Arabic translations, afterwards by the study of the originals, the\nwestern nations of Europe became acquainted with the writings of the\nancient philosophers and poets, and, in time, with the whole of the\nvast literature of antiquity.\n\nWhatever there was of high intellectual aspiration or dominant capacity\nin Italy, France, Germany, and England, spent itself for centuries in\ntaking possession of the rich inheritance left by the dead\ncivilisations of Greece and Rome. Marvellously aided by the invention\nof printing, classical learning spread and flourished. Those who\npossessed it prided themselves on having attained the highest culture\nthen within the reach of mankind.\n\nAnd justly. For, saving Dante on his solitary pinnacle, there was no\nfigure in modern literature at the time of the Renascence to compare\nwith the men of antiquity; there was no art to compete with their\nsculpture; there was no physical science but that which Greece had\ncreated. Above all, there was no other example of perfect intellectual\nfreedom--of the unhesitating acceptance of reason as the sole guide to\ntruth and the supreme arbiter of conduct.\n\nThe new learning necessarily soon exerted a profound influence upon\neducation. The language of the monks and schoolmen seemed little better\nthan gibberish to scholars fresh from Virgil and Cicero, and the study\nof Latin was placed upon a new foundation. Moreover, Latin itself\nceased to afford the sole key to knowledge. The student who sought the\nhighest thought of antiquity, found only a second-hand reflection of it\nin Roman literature, and turned his face to the full light of the\nGreeks. And after a battle, not altogether dissimilar to that which is\nat present being fought over the teaching of physical science, the\nstudy of Greek was recognised as an essential element of all higher\neducation.\n\nThus the Humanists, as they were called, won the day; and the great\nreform which they effected was of incalculable service to mankind. But\nthe Nemesis of all reformers is finality; and the reformers of\neducation, like those of religion, fell into the profound, however\ncommon, error of mistaking the beginning for the end of the work of\nreformation.\n\nThe representatives of the Humanists, in the nineteenth century, take\ntheir stand upon classical education as the sole avenue to culture, as\nfirmly us if we were still in the age of Renascence. Yet, surely, the\npresent intellectual relations of the modern and the ancient worlds are\nprofoundly different from those which obtained three centuries ago.\nLeaving aside the existence of a great and characteristically modern\nliterature, of modern painting, and, especially, of modern music, there\nis one feature of the present state of the civilised world which\nseparates it more widely from the Renascence, than the Renascence was\nseparated from the middle ages.\n\nThis distinctive character of our own times lies in the vast and\nconstantly increasing part which is played by natural knowledge. Not\nonly is our daily life shaped by it, not only does the prosperity of\nmillions of men depend upon it, but our whole theory of life has long\nbeen influenced, consciously or unconsciously, by the general\nconceptions of the universe, which have been forced upon us by physical\nscience.\n\nIn fact, the most elementary acquaintance with the results of\nscientific investigation shows us that they offer a broad and striking\ncontradiction to the opinion so implicitly credited and taught in the\nmiddle ages.\n\nThe notions of the beginning and the end of the world entertained by\nour forefathers are no longer credible. It is very certain that the\nearth is not the chief body in the material universe, and that the\nworld is not subordinated to man's use. It is even more certain that\nnature is the expression of a definite order with which nothing\ninterferes, and that the chief business of mankind is to learn that\norder and govern themselves accordingly. Moreover this scientific\n\"criticism of life\" presents itself to us with different credentials\nfrom any other. It appeals not to authority, nor to what anybody may\nhave thought or said, but to nature. It admits that all our\ninterpretations of natural fact are more or less imperfect and\nsymbolic, and bids the learner seek for truth not among words but among\nthings. It warns us that the assertion which outstrips evidence is not\nonly a blunder but a crime.\n\nThe purely classical education advocated by the representatives of the\nHumanists in our day, gives no inkling of all this. A man may be a\nbetter scholar than Erasmus, and know no more of the chief causes of\nthe present intellectual fermentation than Erasmus did. Scholarly and\npious persons, worthy of all respect, favour us with allocutions upon\nthe sadness of the antagonism of science to their mediaeval way of\nthinking, which betray an ignorance of the first principles of\nscientific investigation, an incapacity for understanding what a man of\nscience means by veracity, and an unconsciousness of the weight of\nestablished scientific truths, which is almost comical.\n\nThere is no great force in the _tu quoque_ argument, or else the\nadvocates of scientific education might fairly enough retort upon the\nmodern Humanists that they may be learned specialists, but that they\npossess no such sound foundation for a criticism of life as deserves\nthe name of culture. And, indeed, if we were disposed to be cruel, we\nmight urge that the Humanists have brought this reproach upon\nthemselves, not because they are too full of the spirit of the ancient\nGreek, but because they lack it.\n\nThe period of the Renascence is commonly called that of the \"Revival of\nLetters,\" as if the influences then brought to bear upon the mind of\nWestern Europe had been wholly exhausted in the field of literature. I\nthink it is very commonly forgotten that the revival of science,\neffected by the same agency, although less conspicuous, was not less\nmomentous.\n\nIn fact, the few and scattered students of nature of that day picked up\nthe clue to her secrets exactly as it fell from the hands of the Greeks\na thousand years before. The foundations of mathematics were so well\nlaid by them, that our children learn their geometry from a book\nwritten for the schools of Alexandria two thousand years ago. Modern\nastronomy is the natural continuation and development of the work of\nHipparchus and of Ptolemy; modern physics of that of Democritus and of\nArchimedes; it was long before modern biological science outgrew the\nknowledge bequeathed to us by Aristotle, by Theophrastus, and by Galen.\n\nWe cannot know all the best thoughts and sayings of the Greeks unless\nwe know what they thought about natural phaenomena. We cannot fully\napprehend their criticism of life unless we understand the extent to\nwhich that criticism was affected by scientific conceptions. We falsely\npretend to be the inheritors of their culture, unless we are\npenetrated, as the best minds among them were, with an unhesitating\nfaith that the free employment of reason, in accordance with scientific\nmethod, is the sole method of reaching truth.\n\nThus I venture to think that the pretensions of our modern Humanists to\nthe possession of the monopoly of culture and to the exclusive\ninheritance of the spirit of antiquity must be abated, if not\nabandoned. But I should be very sorry that anything I have said should\nbe taken to imply a desire on my part to depreciate the value of\nclassical education, as it might be and as it sometimes is. The native\ncapacities of mankind vary no less than their opportunities; and while\nculture is one, the road by which one man may best reach it is widely\ndifferent from that which is most advantageous to another. Again, while\nscientific education is yet inchoate and tentative, classical education\nis thoroughly well organised upon the practical experience of\ngenerations of teachers. So that, given ample time for learning and\ndestination for ordinary life, or for a literary career, I do not think\nthat a young Englishman in search of culture can do better than follow\nthe course usually marked out for him, supplementing its deficiencies\nby his own efforts.\n\nBut for those who mean to make science their serious occupation; or who\nintend to follow the profession of medicine; or who have to enter early\nupon the business of life; for all these, in my opinion, classical\neducation is a mistake; and it is for this reason that I am glad to see\n\"mere literary education and instruction\" shut out from the curriculum\nof Sir Josiah Mason's College, seeing that its inclusion would probably\nlead to the introduction of the ordinary smattering of Latin and Greek.\n\nNevertheless, I am the last person to question the importance of\ngenuine literary education, or to suppose that intellectual culture can\nbe complete without it. An exclusively scientific training will bring\nabout a mental twist as surely as an exclusively literary training. The\nvalue of the cargo does not compensate for a ship's being out of trim;\nand I should be very sorry to think that the Scientific College would\nturn out none but lop-sided men.\n\nThere is no need, however, that such a catastrophe should happen.\nInstruction in English, French, and German is provided, and thus the\nthree greatest literatures of the modern world are made accessible to\nthe student.\n\nFrench and German, and especially the latter language, are absolutely\nindispensable to those who desire full knowledge in any department of\nscience. But even supposing that the knowledge of these languages\nacquired is not more than sufficient for purely scientific purposes,\nevery Englishman has, in his native tongue, an almost perfect\ninstrument of literary expression; and, in his own literature, models\nof every kind of literary excellence. If an Englishman cannot get\nliterary culture out of his Bible, his Shakespeare, his Milton,\nneither, in my belief, will the profoundest study of Homer and\nSophocles, Virgil and Horace, give it to him.\n\nThus, since the constitution of the College makes sufficient provision\nfor literary as well as for scientific education, and since artistic\ninstruction is also contemplated, it seems to me that a fairly complete\nculture is offered to all who are willing to take advantage of it.\n\nBut I am not sure that at this point the \"practical\" man, scotched but\nnot slain, may ask what all this talk about culture has to do with an\nInstitution, the object of which is defined to be \"to promote the\nprosperity of the manufactures and the industry of the country.\" He may\nsuggest that what is wanted for this end is not culture, nor even a\npurely scientific discipline, but simply a knowledge of applied\nscience.\n\nI often wish that this phrase, \"applied science,\" had never been\ninvented. For it suggests that there is a sort of scientific knowledge\nof direct practical use, which can be studied apart from another sort\nof scientific knowledge, which is of no practical utility, and which is\ntermed \"pure science.\" But there is no more complete fallacy than this.\nWhat people call applied science is nothing but the application of pure\nscience to particular classes of problems. It consists of deductions\nfrom those general principles, established by reasoning and\nobservation, which constitute pure science. No one can safely make\nthese deductions until he has a firm grasp of the principles; and he\ncan obtain that grasp only by personal experience of the operations of\nobservation and of reasoning on which they are founded.\n\nAlmost all the processes employed in the arts and manufactures fall\nwithin the range either of physics or of chemistry. In order to improve\nthem, one must thoroughly understand them; and no one has a chance of\nreally understanding them, unless he has obtained that mastery of\nprinciples and that habit of dealing with facts, which is given by\nlong-continued and well-directed purely scientific training in the\nphysical and the chemical laboratory. So that there really is no\nquestion as to the necessity of purely scientific discipline, even if\nthe work of the College were limited by the narrowest interpretation of\nits stated aims.\n\nAnd, as to the desirableness of a wider culture than that yielded by\nscience alone, it is to be recollected that the improvement of\nmanufacturing processes is only one of the conditions which contribute\nto the prosperity of industry. Industry is a means and not an end; and\nmankind work only to get something which they want. What that something\nis depends partly on their innate, and partly on their acquired,\ndesires.\n\nIf the wealth resulting from prosperous industry is to be spent upon\nthe gratification of unworthy desires, if the increasing perfection of\nmanufacturing processes is to be accompanied by an increasing\ndebasement of those who carry them on, I do not see the good of\nindustry and prosperity.\n\nNow it is perfectly true that men's views of what is desirable depend\nupon their characters; and that the innate proclivities to which we\ngive that name are not touched by any amount of instruction. But it\ndoes not follow that even mere intellectual education may not, to an\nindefinite extent, modify the practical manifestation of the characters\nof men in their actions, by supplying them with motives unknown to the\nignorant. A pleasure-loving character will have pleasure of some sort;\nbut, if you give him the choice, he may prefer pleasures which do not\ndegrade him to those which do. And this choice is offered to every man,\nwho possesses in literary or artistic culture a never-failing source of\npleasures, which are neither withered by age, nor staled by custom, nor\nembittered in the recollection by the pangs of self-reproach.\n\nIf the Institution opened to-day fulfils the intention of its founder,\nthe picked intelligences among all classes of the population of this\ndistrict will pass through it. No child born in Birmingham,\nhenceforward, if he have the capacity to profit by the opportunities\noffered to him, first in the primary and other schools, and afterwards\nin the Scientific College, need fail to obtain, not merely the\ninstruction, but the culture most appropriate to the conditions of his\nlife.\n\nWithin these walls, the future employer and the future artisan may\nsojourn together for a while, and carry, through all their lives, the\nstamp of the influences then brought to bear upon them. Hence, it is\nnot beside the mark to remind you, that the prosperity of industry\ndepends not merely upon the improvement of manufacturing processes, not\nmerely upon the ennobling of the individual character, but upon a third\ncondition, namely, a clear understanding of the conditions of social\nlife, on the part of both the capitalist and the operative, and their\nagreement upon common principles of social action. They must learn that\nsocial phaenomena are as much the expression of natural laws as any\nothers; that no social arrangements can be permanent unless they\nharmonise with the requirements of social statics and dynamics; and\nthat, in the nature of things, there is an arbiter whose decisions\nexecute themselves.\n\nBut this knowledge is only to be obtained by the application of the\nmethods of investigation adopted in physical researches to the\ninvestigation of the phaenomena of society. Hence, I confess, I should\nlike to see one addition made to the excellent scheme of education\npropounded for the College, in the shape of provision for the teaching\nof Sociology. For though we are all agreed that party politics are to\nhave no place in the instruction of the College; yet in this country,\npractically governed as it is now by universal suffrage, every man who\ndoes his duty must exercise political functions. And, if the evils\nwhich are inseparable from the good of political liberty are to be\nchecked, if the perpetual oscillation of nations between anarchy and\ndespotism is to be replaced by the steady march of self-restraining\nfreedom; it will be because men will gradually bring themselves to deal\nwith political, as they now deal with scientific questions; to be as\nashamed of undue haste and partisan prejudice in the one case as in the\nother; and to believe that the machinery of society is at least as\ndelicate as that of a spinning-jenny, and as little likely to be\nimproved by the meddling of those who have not taken the trouble to\nmaster the principles of its action.\n\nIn conclusion, I am sure that I make myself the mouthpiece of all\npresent in offering to the venerable founder of the Institution, which\nnow commences its beneficent career, our congratulations on the\ncompletion of his work; and in expressing the conviction, that the\nremotest posterity will point to it as a crucial instance of the wisdom\nwhich natural piety leads all men to ascribe to their ancestors.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] See the first essay in this volume.\n\n[2] The advocacy of the introduction of physical science into general\neducation by George Combe and others commenced a good deal earlier; but\nthe movement had acquired hardly any practical force before the time to\nwhich I refer.\n\n[3] _Essays in Criticism_, p. 37.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nON SCIENCE AND ART IN RELATION TO EDUCATION\n\n[1882]\n\n\nWhen a man is honoured by such a request as that which reached me from\nthe authorities of your institution some time ago, I think the first\nthing that occurs to him is that which occurred to those who were\nbidden to the feast in the Gospel--to begin to make an excuse; and\nprobably all the excuses suggested on that famous occasion crop up in\nhis mind one after the other, including his \"having married a wife,\" as\nreasons for not doing what he is asked to do. But, in my own case, and\non this particular occasion, there were other difficulties of a sort\npeculiar to the time, and more or less personal to myself; because I\nfelt that, if I came amongst you, I should be expected, and, indeed,\nmorally compelled, to speak upon the subject of Scientific Education.\nAnd then there arose in my mind the recollection of a fact, which\nprobably no one here but myself remembers; namely, that some fourteen\nyears ago I was the guest of a citizen of yours, who bears the honoured\nname of Rathbone, at a very charming and pleasant dinner given by the\nPhilomathic Society; and I there and then, and in this very city, made\na speech upon the topic of Scientific Education. Under these\ncircumstances, you see, one runs two dangers--the first, of repeating\none's self, although I may fairly hope that everybody has forgotten the\nfact I have just now mentioned, except myself; and the second, and even\ngreater difficulty, is the danger of saying something different from\nwhat one said before, because then, however forgotten your previous\nspeech may be, somebody finds out its existence, and there goes on that\nprocess so hateful to members of Parliament, which may be denoted by\nthe term \"Hansardisation.\" Under these circumstances, I came to the\nconclusion that the best thing I could do was to take the bull by the\nhorns, and to \"Hansardise\" myself,--to put before you, in the briefest\npossible way, the three or four propositions which I endeavoured to\nsupport on the occasion of the speech to which I have referred; and\nthen to ask myself, supposing you were asking me, whether I had\nanything to retract, or to modify, in them, in virtue of the increased\nexperience, and, let us charitably hope, the increased wisdom of an\nadded fourteen years.\n\nNow, the points to which I directed particular attention on that\noccasion were these: in the first place, that instruction in physical\nscience supplies information of a character of especial value, both in\na practical and a speculative point of view--information which cannot\nbe obtained otherwise; and, in the second place, that, as educational\ndiscipline, it supplies, in a better form than any other study can\nsupply, exercise in a special form of logic, and a peculiar method of\ntesting the validity of our processes of inquiry. I said further, that,\neven at that time, a great and increasing attention was being paid to\nphysical science in our schools and colleges, and that, most assuredly,\nsuch attention must go on growing and increasing, until education in\nthese matters occupied a very much larger share of the time which is\ngiven to teaching and training, than had been the case heretofore. And\nI threw all the strength of argumentation of which I was possessed into\nthe support of these propositions. But I venture to remind you, also,\nof some other words I used at that time, and which I ask permission to\nread to you. They were these:--\"There are other forms of culture\nbesides physical science, and I should be profoundly sorry to see the\nfact forgotten, or even to observe a tendency to starve or cripple\nliterary or aesthetic culture for the sake of science. Such a narrow\nview of the nature of education has nothing to do with my firm\nconclusion that a complete and thorough scientific culture ought to be\nintroduced into all schools.\"\n\nI say I desire, in commenting upon these various points, and judging\nthem as fairly as I can by the light of increased experience, to\nparticularly emphasise this last, because I am told, although I\nassuredly do not know it of my own knowledge--though I think if the\nfact were so I ought to know it, being tolerably well acquainted with\nthat which goes on in the scientific world, and which has gone on there\nfor the last thirty years--that there is a kind of sect, or horde, of\nscientific Goths and Vandals, who think it would be proper and\ndesirable to sweep away all other forms of culture and instruction,\nexcept those in physical science, and to make them the universal and\nexclusive, or, at any rate, the dominant training of the human mind of\nthe future generation. This is not my view--I do not believe that it is\nanybody's view,--but it is attributed to those who, like myself,\nadvocate scientific education. I therefore dwell strongly upon the\npoint, and I beg you to believe that the words I have just now read\nwere by no means intended by me as a sop to the Cerberus of culture. I\nhave not been in the habit of offering sops to any kind of Cerberus;\nbut it was an expression of profound conviction on my own part--a\nconviction forced upon me not only by my mental constitution, but by\nthe lessons of what is now becoming a somewhat long experience of\nvaried conditions of life.\n\nI am not about to trouble you with my autobiography; the omens are\nhardly favourable, at present, for work of that kind. But I should like\nif I may do so without appearing, what I earnestly desire not to be,\negotistical,--I should like to make it clear to you, that such notions\nas these, which are sometimes attributed to me, are, as I have said,\ninconsistent with my mental constitution, and still more inconsistent\nwith the upshot of the teaching of my experience. For I can certainly\nclaim for myself that sort of mental temperament which can say that\nnothing human comes amiss to it. I have never yet met with any branch\nof human knowledge which I have found unattractive--which it would not\nhave been pleasant to me to follow, so far as I could go; and I have\nyet to meet with any form of art in which it has not been possible for\nme to take as acute a pleasure as, I believe, it is possible for men to\ntake.\n\nAnd with respect to the circumstances of life, it so happens that it\nhas been my fate to know many lands and many climates, and to be\nfamiliar, by personal experience, with almost every form of society,\nfrom the uncivilised savage of Papua and Australia and the civilised\nsavages of the slums and dens of the poverty-stricken parts of\ngreat cities, to those who perhaps, are occasionally the somewhat\nover-civilised members of our upper ten thousand. And I have never\nfound, in any of these conditions of life, a deficiency of something\nwhich was attractive. Savagery has its pleasures, I assure you, as well\nas civilisation, and I may even venture to confess--if you will not let\na whisper of the matter get back to London, where I am known--I am even\nfain to confess, that sometimes in the din and throng of what is called\n\"a brilliant reception\" the vision crosses my mind of waking up from\nthe soft plank which had afforded me satisfactory sleep during the\nhours of the night, in the bright dawn of a tropical morning, when my\ncomrades were yet asleep, when every sound was hushed, except the\nlittle lap-lap of the ripples against the sides of the boat, and the\ndistant twitter of the sea-bird on the reef. And when that vision\ncrosses my mind, I am free to confess I desire to be back in the boat\nagain. So that, if I share with those strange persons to whose\nasserted, but still hypothetical existence I have referred, the want of\nappreciation of forms of culture other than the pursuit of physical\nscience, all I can say is, that it is, in spite of my constitution, and\nin spite of my experience, that such should be my fate.\n\nBut now let me turn to another point, or rather to two other points,\nwith which I propose to occupy myself. How far does the experience of\nthe last fourteen years justify the estimate which I ventured to put\nforward of the value of scientific culture, and of the share--the\nincreasing share--which it must take in ordinary education? Happily, in\nrespect to that matter, you need not rely upon my testimony. In the\nlast half-dozen numbers of the \"Journal of Education,\" you will find a\nseries of very interesting and remarkable papers, by gentlemen who are\npractically engaged in the business of education in our great public\nand other schools, telling us what is doing in these schools, and what\nis their experience of the results of scientific education there, so\nfar as it has gone. I am not going to trouble you with an abstract of\nthose papers, which are well worth your study in their fulness and\ncompleteness, but I have copied out one remarkable passage, because it\nseems to me so entirely to bear out what I have formerly ventured to\nsay about the value of science, both as to its subject-matter and as to\nthe discipline which the learning of science involves. It is from a\npaper by Mr. Worthington--one of the masters at Clifton, the reputation\nof which school you know well, and at the head of which is an old\nfriend of mine, the Rev. Mr. Wilson--to whom much credit is due for\nbeing one of the first, as I can say from my own knowledge, to take up\nthis question and work it into practical shape. What Mr. Worthington\nsays is this:--\n\n    \"It is not easy to exaggerate the importance of the information\n    imparted by certain branches of science; it modifies the\n    whole criticism of life made in maturer years. The study has\n    often, on a mass of boys, a certain influence which, I think, was\n    hardly anticipated, and to which a good deal of value must be\n    attached--an influence as much moral as intellectual, which is\n    shown in the increased and increasing respect for precision of\n    statement, and for that form of veracity which consists in the\n    acknowledgment of difficulties. It produces a real effect to find\n    that Nature cannot be imposed upon, and the attention given\n    to experimental lectures, at first superficial and curious only,\n    soon becomes minute, serious, and practical.\"\n\nLadies and gentlemen, I could not have chosen better words to\nexpress--in fact, I have, in other words, expressed the same conviction\nin former days--what the influence of scientific teaching, if properly\ncarried out, must be.\n\nBut now comes the question of properly carrying it out, because, when I\nhear the value of school teaching in physical science disputed, my\nfirst impulse is to ask the disputer, \"What have you known about it?\"\nand he generally tells me some lamentable case of failure. Then I ask,\n\"What are the circumstances of the case, and how was the teaching\ncarried out?\" I remember, some few years ago, hearing of the head\nmaster of a large school, who had expressed great dissatisfaction with\nthe adoption of the teaching of physical science--and that after\nexperiment. But the experiment consisted in this--in asking one of the\njunior masters in the school to get up science, in order to teach it;\nand the young gentleman went away for a year and got up science and\ntaught it. Well, I have no doubt that the result was as disappointing\nas the head-master said it was, and I have no doubt that it ought to\nhave been as disappointing, and far more disappointing too; for, if\nthis kind of instruction is to be of any good at all, if it is not to\nbe less than no good, if it is to take the place of that which is\nalready of some good, then there are several points which must be\nattended to.\n\nAnd the first of these is the proper selection of topics, the second is\npractical teaching, the third is practical teachers, and the fourth is\nsufficiency of time. If these four points are not carefully attended to\nby anybody who undertakes the teaching of physical science in schools,\nmy advice to him is, to let it alone. I will not dwell at any length\nupon the first point, because there is a general consensus of opinion\nas to the nature of the topics which should be chosen. The second\npoint--practical teaching--is one of great importance, because it\nrequires more capital to set it agoing, demands more time, and, last,\nbut by no means least, it requires much more personal exertion and\ntrouble on the part of those professing to teach, than is the case with\nother kinds of instruction.\n\nWhen I accepted the invitation to be here this evening, your secretary\nwas good enough to send me the addresses which have been given by\ndistinguished persons who have previously occupied this chair. I don't\nknow whether he had a malicious desire to alarm me; but, however that\nmay be, I read the addresses, and derived the greatest pleasure and\nprofit from some of them, and from none more than from the one given by\nthe great historian, Mr. Freeman, which delighted me most of all; and,\nif I had not been ashamed of plagiarising, and if I had not been sure\nof being found out, I should have been glad to have copied very much of\nwhat Mr. Freeman said, simply putting in the word science for history.\nThere was one notable passage,--\"The difference between good and bad\nteaching mainly consists in this, whether the words used are really\nclothed with a meaning or not.\" And Mr. Freeman gives a remarkable\nexample of this. He says, when a little girl was asked where Turkey\nwas, she answered that it was in the yard with the other fowls, and\nthat showed she had a definite idea connected with the word Turkey, and\nwas, so far, worthy of praise. I quite agree with that commendation;\nbut what a curious thing it is that one should now find it necessary to\nurge that this is the be-all and end-all of scientific instruction--the\n_sine qu\u00e2 non_, the absolutely necessary condition,--and yet that\nit was insisted upon more than two hundred years ago by one of the\ngreatest men science ever possessed in this country, William Harvey.\nHarvey wrote, or at least published, only two small books, one of which\nis the well-known treatise on the circulation of the blood. The other,\nthe \"Exercitationes de Generatione,\" is less known, but not less\nremarkable. And not the least valuable part of it is the preface, in\nwhich there occurs this passage: \"Those who, reading the words of\nauthors, do not form sensible images of the things referred to, obtain\nno true ideas, but conceive false imaginations and inane phantasms.\"\nYou see, William Harvey's words are just the same in substance as those\nof Mr. Freeman, only they happen to be rather more than two centuries\nolder. So that what I am now saying has its application elsewhere than\nin science; but assuredly in science the condition of knowing, of your\nown knowledge, things which you talk about, is absolutely imperative.\n\nI remember, in my youth, there were detestable books which ought to\nhave been burned by the hands of the common hangman, for they contained\nquestions and answers to be learned by heart, of this sort, \"What is a\nhorse? The horse is termed _Equus caballus_; belongs to the class\nMammalia; order, Pachydermata; family, Solidungula.\" Was any human\nbeing wiser for learning that magic formula? Was he not more foolish,\ninasmuch as he was deluded into taking words for knowledge? It is that\nkind of teaching that one wants to get rid of, and banished out of\nscience. Make it as little as you like, but, unless that which is\ntaught is based on actual observation and familiarity with facts, it is\nbetter left alone.\n\nThere are a great many people who imagine that elementary teaching\nmight be properly carried out by teachers provided with only elementary\nknowledge. Let me assure you that that is the profoundest mistake in\nthe world. There is nothing so difficult to do as to write a good\nelementary book, and there is nobody so hard to teach properly and well\nas people who know nothing about a subject, and I will tell you why. If\nI address an audience of persons who are occupied in the same line of\nwork as myself, I can assume that they know a vast deal, and that they\ncan find out the blunders I make. If they don't, it is their fault and\nnot mine; but when I appear before a body of people who know nothing\nabout the matter, who take for gospel whatever I say, surely it becomes\nneedful that I consider what I say, make sure that it will bear\nexamination, and that I do not impose upon the credulity of those who\nhave faith in me. In the second place, it involves that difficult\nprocess of knowing what you know so well that you can talk about it as\nyou can talk about your ordinary business. A man can always talk about\nhis own business. He can always make it plain; but, if his knowledge is\nhearsay, he is afraid to go beyond what he has recollected, and put it\nbefore those that are ignorant in such a shape that they shall\ncomprehend it. That is why, to be a good elementary teacher, to teach\nthe elements of any subject, requires most careful consideration, if\nyou are a master of the subject; and, if you are not a master of it, it\nis needful you should familiarise yourself with so much as you are\ncalled upon to teach--soak yourself in it, so to speak--until you know\nit as part of your daily life and daily knowledge, and then you will be\nable to teach anybody. That is what I mean by practical teachers, and,\nalthough the deficiency of such teachers is being remedied to a large\nextent, I think it is one which has long existed, and which has existed\nfrom no fault of those who undertook to teach, but because, until the\nlast score of years, it absolutely was not possible for any one in a\ngreat many branches of science, whatever his desire might be, to get\ninstruction which would enable him to be a good teacher of elementary\nthings. All that is being rapidly altered, and I hope it will soon\nbecome a thing of the past.\n\nThe last point I have referred to is the question of the sufficiency of\ntime. And here comes the rub. The teaching of science needs time, as\nany other subject; but it needs more time proportionally than other\nsubjects, for the amount of work obviously done, if the teaching is to\nbe, as I have said, practical. Work done in a laboratory involves a\ngood deal of expenditure of time without always an obvious result,\nbecause we do not see anything of that quiet process of soaking the\nfacts into the mind, which takes place through the organs of the\nsenses. On this ground there must be ample time given to science\nteaching. What that amount of time should be is a point which I need\nnot discuss now; in fact, it is a point which cannot be settled until\none has made up one's mind about various other questions.\n\nAll, then, that I have to ask for, on behalf of the scientific people,\nif I may venture to speak for more than myself, is that you should put\nscientific teaching into what statesmen call the condition of \"the most\nfavoured nation\"; that is to say, that it shall have as large a share\nof the time given to education as any other principal subject. You may\nsay that that is a very vague statement, because the value of the\nallotment of time, under those circumstances, depends upon the number\nof principal subjects. It is _x_ the time, and an unknown quantity\nof principal subjects dividing that, and science taking shares with the\nrest. That shows that we cannot deal with this question fully until we\nhave made up our minds as to what the principal subjects of education\nought to be.\n\nI know quite well that launching myself into this discussion is a very\ndangerous operation; that it is a very large subject, and one which is\ndifficult to deal with, however much I may trespass upon your patience\nin the time allotted to me. But the discussion is so fundamental, it is\nso completely impossible to make up one's mind on these matters until\none has settled the question, that I will even venture to make the\nexperiment. A great lawyer-statesman and philosopher of a former age--I\nmean Francis Bacon--said that truth came out of error much more rapidly\nthan it came out of confusion. There is a wonderful truth in that\nsaying. Next to being right in this world, the best of all things is to\nbe clearly and definitely wrong, because you will come out somewhere.\nIf you go buzzing about between right and wrong, vibrating and\nfluctuating, you come out nowhere; but if you are absolutely and\nthoroughly and persistently wrong, you must, some of these days, have\nthe extreme good fortune of knocking your head against a fact, and that\nsets you all straight again. So I will not trouble myself as to whether\nI may be right or wrong in what I am about to say, but at any rate I\nhope to be clear and definite; and then you will be able to judge for\nyourselves whether, in following out the train of thought I have to\nintroduce, you knock your heads against facts or not.\n\nI take it that the whole object of education is, in the first place, to\ntrain the faculties of the young in such a manner as to give their\npossessors the best chance of being happy and useful in their\ngeneration; and, in the second place, to furnish them with the most\nimportant portions of that immense capitalised experience of the human\nrace which we call knowledge of various kinds. I am using the term\nknowledge in its widest possible sense; and the question is, what\nsubjects to select by training and discipline, in which the object I\nhave just defined may be best attained.\n\nI must call your attention further to this fact, that all the subjects\nof our thoughts--all feelings and propositions (leaving aside our\nsensations as the mere materials and occasions of thinking and\nfeeling), all our mental furniture--may be classified under one of two\nheads--as either within the province of the intellect, something that\ncan be put into propositions and affirmed or denied; or as within the\nprovince of feeling, or that which, before the name was defiled, was\ncalled the aesthetic side of our nature, and which can neither be\nproved nor disproved, but only felt and known.\n\nAccording to the classification which I have put before you, then, the\nsubjects of all knowledge are divisible into the two groups, matters of\nscience and matters of art; for all things with which the reasoning\nfaculty alone is occupied, come under the province of science; and in\nthe broadest sense, and not in the narrow and technical sense in which\nwe are now accustomed to use the word art, all things feelable, all\nthings which stir our emotions, come under the term of art, in the\nsense of the subject-matter of the aesthetic faculty. So that we are\nshut up to this--that the business of education is, in the first place,\nto provide the young with the means and the habit of observation; and,\nsecondly, to supply the subject-matter of knowledge either in the shape\nof science or of art, or of both combined.\n\nNow, it is a very remarkable fact--but it is true of most things in\nthis world--that there is hardly anything one-sided, or of one nature;\nand it is not immediately obvious what of the things that interest us\nmay be regarded as pure science, and what may be regarded as pure art.\nIt may be that there are some peculiarly constituted persons who,\nbefore they have advanced far into the depths of geometry, find\nartistic beauty about it; but, taking the generality of mankind, I\nthink it may be said that, when they begin to learn mathematics, their\nwhole souls are absorbed in tracing the connection between the\npremisses and the conclusion, and that to them geometry is pure\nscience. So I think it may be said that mechanics and osteology are\npure science. On the other hand, melody in music is pure art. You\ncannot reason about it; there is no proposition involved in it. So,\nagain, in the pictorial art, an arabesque, or a \"harmony in grey,\"\ntouches none but the aesthetic faculty. But a great mathematician, and\neven many persons who are not great mathematicians, will tell you that\nthey derive immense pleasure from geometrical reasonings. Everybody\nknows mathematicians speak of solutions and problems as \"elegant,\" and\nthey tell you that a certain mass of mystic symbols is \"beautiful,\nquite lovely.\" Well, you do not see it. They do see it, because the\nintellectual process, the process of comprehending the reasons\nsymbolised by these figures and these signs, confers upon them a sort\nof pleasure, such as an artist has in visual symmetry. Take a science\nof which I may speak with more confidence, and which is the most\nattractive of those I am concerned with. It is what we call morphology,\nwhich consists in tracing out the unity in variety of the infinitely\ndiversified structures of animals and plants. I cannot give you any\nexample of a thorough aesthetic pleasure more intensely real than a\npleasure of this kind--the pleasure which arises in one's mind when a\nwhole mass of different structures run into one harmony as the\nexpression of a central law. That is where the province of art overlays\nand embraces the province of intellect. And, if I may venture to\nexpress an opinion on such a subject, the great majority of forms of\nart are not in the sense what I just now defined them to be--pure art;\nbut they derive much of their quality from simultaneous and even\nunconscious excitement of the intellect.\n\nWhen I was a boy, I was very fond of music, and I am so now; and it so\nhappened that I had the opportunity of hearing much good music. Among\nother things, I had abundant opportunities of hearing that great old\nmaster, Sebastian Bach. I remember perfectly well--though I knew\nnothing about music then, and, I may add, know nothing whatever about\nit now--the intense satisfaction and delight which I had in listening,\nby the hour together, to Bach's fugues. It is a pleasure which remains\nwith me, I am glad to think; but, of late years, I have tried to find\nout the why and wherefore, and it has often occurred to me that the\npleasure derived from musical compositions of this kind is essentially\nof the same nature as that which is derived from pursuits which are\ncommonly regarded as purely intellectual. I mean, that the source\nof pleasure is exactly the same as in most of my problems in\nmorphology--that you have the theme in one of the old master's works\nfollowed out in all its endless variations, always appearing and always\nreminding you of unity in variety. So in painting; what is called\n\"truth to nature\" is the intellectual element coming in, and truth to\nnature depends entirely upon the intellectual culture of the person to\nwhom art is addressed. If you are in Australia, you may get credit for\nbeing a good artist--I mean among the natives--if you can draw a\nkangaroo after a fashion. But, among men of higher civilisation, the\nintellectual knowledge we possess brings its criticism into our\nappreciation of works of art, and we are obliged to satisfy it, as well\nas the mere sense of beauty in colour and in outline. And so, the\nhigher the culture and information of those whom art addresses, the\nmore exact and precise must be what we call its \"truth to nature.\"\n\nIf we turn to literature, the same thing is true, and you find works of\nliterature which may be said to be pure art. A little song of\nShakespeare or of Goethe is pure art; it is exquisitely beautiful,\nalthough its intellectual content may be nothing. A series of pictures\nis made to pass before your mind by the meaning of words, and the\neffect is a melody of ideas. Nevertheless, the great mass of the\nliterature we esteem is valued, not merely because of having artistic\nform, but because of its intellectual content; and the value is the\nhigher the more precise, distinct, and true is that intellectual\ncontent. And, if you will let me for a moment speak of the very highest\nforms of literature, do we not regard them as highest simply because\nthe more we know the truer they seem, and the more competent we are to\nappreciate beauty the more beautiful they are? No man ever understands\nShakespeare until he is old, though the youngest may admire him, the\nreason being that he satisfies the artistic instinct of the youngest\nand harmonises with the ripest and richest experience of the oldest.\n\nI have said this much to draw your attention to what, to my mind, lies\nat the root of all this matter, and at the understanding of one another\nby the men of science on the one hand, and the men of literature, and\nhistory, and art, on the other. It is not a question whether one order\nof study or another should predominate. It is a question of what topics\nof education you shall select which will combine all the needful\nelements in such due proportion as to give the greatest amount of food,\nsupport, and encouragement to those faculties which enable us to\nappreciate truth, and to profit by those sources of innocent happiness\nwhich are open to us, and, at the same time, to avoid that which is\nbad, and coarse, and ugly, and keep clear of the multitude of pitfalls\nand dangers which beset those who break through the natural or moral\nlaws.\n\nI address myself, in this spirit, to the consideration of the question\nof the value of purely literary education. Is it good and sufficient,\nor is it insufficient and bad? Well, here I venture to say that there\nare literary educations and literary educations. If I am to understand\nby that term the education that was current in the great majority of\nmiddle-class schools, and upper schools too, in this country when I was\na boy, and which consisted absolutely and almost entirely in keeping\nboys for eight or ten years at learning the rules of Latin and Greek\ngrammar, construing certain Latin and Greek authors, and possibly\nmaking verses which, had they been English verses, would have been\ncondemned as abominable doggerel,--if that is what you mean by liberal\neducation, then I say it is scandalously insufficient and almost\nworthless. My reason for saying so is not from the point of view of\nscience at all, but from the point of view of literature. I say the\nthing professes to be literary education that is not a literary\neducation at all. It was not literature at all that was taught, but\nscience in a very bad form. It is quite obvious that grammar is science\nand not literature. The analysis of a text by the help of the rules of\ngrammar is just as much a scientific operation as the analysis of a\nchemical compound by the help of the rules of chemical analysis. There\nis nothing that appeals to the aesthetic faculty in that operation; and\nI ask multitudes of men of my own age, who went through this process,\nwhether they ever had a conception of art or literature until they\nobtained it for themselves after leaving school? Then you may say, \"If\nthat is so, if the education was scientific, why cannot you be\nsatisfied with it?\" I say, because although it is a scientific\ntraining, it is of the most inadequate and inappropriate kind. If there\nis any good at all in scientific education it is that men should be\ntrained, as I said before, to know things for themselves at first hand,\nand that they should understand every step of the reason of that which\nthey do.\n\nI desire to speak with the utmost respect of that science--philology--of\nwhich grammar is a part and parcel; yet everybody knows that\ngrammar, as it is usually learned at school, affords no scientific\ntraining. It is taught just as you would teach the rules of chess or\ndraughts. On the other hand, if I am to understand by a literary\neducation the study of the literatures of either ancient or modern\nnations--but especially those of antiquity, and especially that of\nancient Greece; if this literature is studied, not merely from the\npoint of view of philological science, and its practical application to\nthe interpretation of texts, but as an exemplification of and\ncommentary upon the principles of art; if you look upon the literature\nof a people as a chapter in the development of the human mind, if you\nwork out this in a broad spirit, and with such collateral references to\nmorals and politics, and physical geography, and the like as are\nneedful to make you comprehend what the meaning of ancient literature\nand civilisation is,--then, assuredly, it affords a splendid and noble\neducation. But I still think it is susceptible of improvement, and that\nno man will ever comprehend the real secret of the difference between\nthe ancient world and our present time, unless he has learned to see\nthe difference which the late development of physical science has made\nbetween the thought of this day and the thought of that, and he will\nnever see that difference, unless he has some practical insight into\nsome branches of physical science; and you must remember that a\nliterary education such as that which I have just referred to, is out\nof the reach of those whose school life is cut short at sixteen or\nseventeen.\n\nBut, you will say, all this is fault-finding; let us hear what you have\nin the way of positive suggestion. Then I am bound to tell you that, if\nI could make a clean sweep of everything--I am very glad I cannot\nbecause I might, and probably should, make mistakes,--but if I could\nmake a clean sweep of everything and start afresh, I should, in the\nfirst place, secure that training of the young in reading and writing,\nand in the habit of attention and observation, both to that which is\ntold them, and that which they see, which everybody agrees to. But in\naddition to that, I should make it absolutely necessary for everybody,\nfor a longer or shorter period, to learn to draw. Now, you may say,\nthere are some people who cannot draw, however much they may be taught.\nI deny that _in toto_, because I never yet met with anybody who\ncould not learn to write. Writing is a form of drawing; therefore if\nyou give the same attention and trouble to drawing as you do to\nwriting, depend upon it, there is nobody who cannot be made to draw,\nmore or less well. Do not misapprehend me. I do not say for one moment\nyou would make an artistic draughtsman. Artists are not made; they\ngrow. You may improve the natural faculty in that direction, but you\ncannot make it; but you can teach simple drawing, and you will find it\nan implement of learning of extreme value. I do not think its value can\nbe exaggerated, because it gives you the means of training the young in\nattention and accuracy, which are the two things in which all mankind\nare more deficient than in any other mental quality whatever. The whole\nof my life has been spent in trying to give my proper attention to\nthings and to be accurate, and I have not succeeded as well as I could\nwish; and other people, I am afraid, are not much more fortunate. You\ncannot begin this habit too early, and I consider there is nothing of\nso great a value as the habit of drawing, to secure those two desirable\nends.\n\nThen we come to the subject-matter, whether scientific or aesthetic, of\neducation, and I should naturally have no question at all about\nteaching the elements of physical science of the kind I have sketched,\nin a practical manner; but among scientific topics, using the word\nscientific in the broadest sense, I would also include the elements of\nthe theory of morals and of that of political and social life, which,\nstrangely enough, it never seems to occur to anybody to teach a child.\nI would have the history of our own country, and of all the influences\nwhich have been brought to bear upon it, with incidental geography, not\nas a mere chronicle of reigns and battles, but as a chapter in the\ndevelopment of the race, and the history of civilisation.\n\nThen with respect to aesthetic knowledge and discipline, we have\nhappily in the English language one of the most magnificent storehouses\nof artistic beauty and of models of literary excellence which exists in\nthe world at the present time. I have said before, and I repeat it\nhere, that if a man cannot get literary culture of the highest kind out\nof his Bible, and Chaucer, and Shakespeare, and Milton, and Hobbes, and\nBishop Berkeley, to mention only a few of our illustrious writers--I\nsay, if he cannot get it out of those writers, he cannot get it out of\nanything; and I would assuredly devote a very large portion of the time\nof every English child to the careful study of the models of English\nwriting of such varied and wonderful kind as we possess, and, what is\nstill more important and still more neglected, the habit of using that\nlanguage with precision, with force, and with art. I fancy we are\nalmost the only nation in the world who seem to think that composition\ncomes by nature. The French attend to their own language, the Germans\nstudy theirs; but Englishmen do not seem to think it is worth their\nwhile. Nor would I fail to include, in the course of study I am\nsketching, translations of all the best works of antiquity, or of the\nmodern world. It is a very desirable thing to read Homer in Greek; but\nif you don't happen to know Greek, the next best thing we can do is to\nread as good a translation of it as we have recently been furnished\nwith in prose. You won't get all you would get from the original, but\nyou may get a great deal; and to refuse to know this great deal because\nyou cannot get all, seems to be as sensible as for a hungry man to\nrefuse bread because he cannot get partridge. Finally, I would add\ninstruction in either music or painting, or, if the child should be so\nunhappy, as sometimes happens, as to have no faculty for either of\nthose, and no possibility of doing anything in any artistic sense with\nthem, then I would see what could be done with literature alone; but I\nwould provide, in the fullest sense, for the development of the\naesthetic side of the mind. In my judgment, those are all the\nessentials of education for an English child. With that outfit, such as\nit might be made in the time given to education which is within the\nreach of nine-tenths of the population--with that outfit, an\nEnglishman, within the limits of English life, is fitted to go\nanywhere, to occupy the highest positions, to fill the highest offices\nof the State, and to become distinguished in practical pursuits, in\nscience, or in art. For, if he have the opportunity to learn all those\nthings, and have his mind disciplined in the various directions the\nteaching of those topics would have necessitated, then, assuredly, he\nwill be able to pick up, on his road through life, all the rest of the\nintellectual baggage he wants.\n\nIf the educational time at our disposition were sufficient, there are\none or two things I would add to those I have just now called the\nessentials; and perhaps you will be surprised to hear, though I hope\nyou will not, that I should add, not more science, but one, or, if\npossible, two languages. The knowledge of some other language than\none's own is, in fact, of singular intellectual value. Many of the\nfaults and mistakes of the ancient philosophers are traceable to the\nfact that they knew no language but their own, and were often led into\nconfusing the symbol with the thought which it embodied. I think it is\nLocke who says that one-half of the mistakes of philosophers have\narisen from questions about words; and one of the safest ways of\ndelivering yourself from the bondage of words is, to know how ideas\nlook in words to which you are not accustomed. That is one reason for\nthe study of language; another reason is, that it opens new fields in\nart and in science. Another is the practical value of such knowledge;\nand yet another is this, that if your languages are properly chosen,\nfrom the time of learning the additional languages you will know your\nown language better than ever you did. So, I say, if the time given to\neducation permits, add Latin and German. Latin, because it is the key\nto nearly one-half of English and to all the Romance languages; and\nGerman, because it is the key to almost all the remainder of English,\nand helps you to understand a race from whom most of us have sprung,\nand who have a character and a literature of a fateful force in the\nhistory of the world, such as probably has been allotted to those of no\nother people, except the Jews, the Greeks, and ourselves. Beyond these,\nthe essential and the eminently desirable elements of all education,\nlet each man take up his special line--the historian devote himself to\nhis history, the man of science to his science, the man of letters to\nhis culture of that kind, and the artist to his special pursuit.\n\nBacon has prefaced some of his works with no more than this:\n_Franciscus Bacon sic cogitavit;_ let \"sic cogitavi\" be the epilogue\nto what I have ventured to address to you to-night.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\nUNIVERSITIES: ACTUAL AND IDEAL\n\n[1874]\n\n\nElected by the suffrages of your four Nations Rector of the ancient\nUniversity of which you are scholars, I take the earliest opportunity\nwhich has presented itself since my restoration to health, of\ndelivering the Address which, by long custom, is expected of the holder\nof my office.\n\nMy first duty in opening that Address, is to offer you my most hearty\nthanks for the signal honour you have conferred upon me--an honour of\nwhich, as a man unconnected with you by personal or by national ties,\ndevoid of political distinction, and a plebeian who stands by his\norder, I could not have dreamed. And it was the more surprising to\nme, as the five-and-twenty years which have passed over my head\nsince I reached intellectual manhood, have been largely spent in no\nhalf-hearted advocacy of doctrines which have not yet found favour in\nthe eyes of Academic respectability; so that, when the proposal to\nnominate me for your Rector came, I was almost as much astonished as\nwas Hal o' the Wynd, \"who fought for his own hand,\" by the Black\nDouglas's proffer of knighthood. And I fear that my acceptance must be\ntaken as evidence that, less wise than the Armourer of Perth, I have\nnot yet done with soldiering.\n\nIn fact, if, for a moment, I imagined that your intention was simply,\nin the kindness of your hearts, to do me honour; and that the Rector of\nyour University, like that of some other Universities was one of those\nhappy beings who sit in glory for three years, with nothing to do for\nit save the making of a speech, a conversation with my distinguished\npredecessor soon dispelled the dream. I found that, by the constitution\nof the University of Aberdeen, the incumbent of the Rectorate is, if\nnot a power, at any rate a potential energy; and that, whatever may be\nhis chances of success or failure, it is his duty to convert that\npotential energy into a living force, directed towards such ends as may\nseem to him conducive to the welfare of the corporation of which he is\nthe theoretical head.\n\nI need not tell you that your late Lord Rector took this view of his\nposition, and acted upon it with the comprehensive, far-seeing insight\ninto the actual condition and tendencies, not merely of his own, but of\nother countries, which is his honourable characteristic among\nstatesmen. I have already done my best, and, as long as I hold my\noffice, I shall continue my endeavours, to follow in the path which he\ntrod; to do what in me lies, to bring this University nearer to\nthe ideal--alas, that I should be obliged to say ideal--of all\nUniversities; which, as I conceive, should be places in which thought\nis free from all fetters; and in which all sources of knowledge, and\nall aids to learning, should be accessible to all comers, without\ndistinction of creed or country, riches or poverty.\n\nDo not suppose, however, that I am sanguine enough to expect much to\ncome of any poor efforts of mine. If your annals take any notice of my\nincumbency, I shall probably go down to posterity as the Rector who was\nalways beaten. But if they add, as I think they will, that my defeats\nbecame victories in the hands of my successors, I shall be well\ncontent.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe scenes are shifting in the great theatre of the world. The act\nwhich commenced with the Protestant Reformation is nearly played out,\nand a wider and deeper change than that effected three centuries ago--a\nreformation, or rather a revolution of thought, the extremes of which\nare represented by the intellectual heirs of John of Leyden and of\nIgnatius Loyola, rather than by those of Luther and of Leo--is waiting\nto come on, nay, visible behind the scenes to those who have good eyes.\nMen are beginning, once more, to awake to the fact that matters of\nbelief and of speculation are of absolutely infinite practical\nimportance; and are drawing off from that sunny country \"where it is\nalways afternoon\"--the sleepy hollow of broad indifferentism--to range\nthemselves under their natural banners. Change is in the air. It is\nwhirling feather-heads into all sorts of eccentric orbits, and filling\nthe steadiest with a sense of insecurity. It insists on reopening all\nquestions and asking all institutions, however venerable, by what right\nthey exist, and whether they are, or are not, in harmony with the real\nor supposed wants of mankind. And it is remarkable that these searching\ninquiries are not so much forced on institutions from without, as\ndeveloped from within. Consummate scholars question the value of\nlearning; priests contemn dogma; and women turn their backs upon man's\nideal of perfect womanhood, and seek satisfaction in apocalyptic\nvisions of some, as yet, unrealised epicene reality.\n\nIf there be a type of stability in this world, one would be inclined to\nlook for it in the old Universities of England. But it has been my\nbusiness of late to hear a good deal about what is going on in these\nfamous corporations; and I have been filled with astonishment by the\nevidences of internal fermentation which they exhibit. If Gibbon could\nrevisit the ancient seat of learning of which he has written so\ncavalierly, assuredly he would no longer speak of \"the monks of Oxford\nsunk in prejudice and port.\" There, as elsewhere, port has gone out of\nfashion, and so has prejudice--at least that particular fine, old,\ncrusted sort of prejudice to which the great historian alludes.\n\nIndeed, things are moving so fast in Oxford and Cambridge, that, for my\npart, I rejoiced when the Royal Commission, of which I am a member, had\nfinished and presented the Report which related to these Universities;\nfor we should have looked like mere plagiarists, if, in consequence of\na little longer delay in issuing it, all the measures of reform we\nproposed had been anticipated by the spontaneous action of the\nUniversities themselves.\n\nA month ago I should have gone on to say that one might speedily expect\nchanges of another kind in Oxford and Cambridge. A Commission has been\ninquiring into the revenues of the many wealthy societies, in more or\nless direct connection with the Universities, resident in those towns.\nIt is said that the Commission has reported, and that, for the first\ntime in recorded history, the nation, and perhaps the Colleges\nthemselves, will know what they are worth. And it was announced that a\nstatesman, who, whatever his other merits or defects, has aims above\nthe level of mere party fighting, and a clear vision into the most\ncomplex practical problems, meant to deal with these revenues.\n\nBut, _Bos locutus est_. That mysterious independent variable of\npolitical calculation, Public Opinion--which some whisper is, in the\npresent case, very much the same thing as publican's opinion--has\nwilled otherwise. The Heads may return to their wonted slumbers--at any\nrate for a space.\n\nIs the spirit of change, which is working thus vigorously in the South,\nlikely to affect the Northern Universities, and if so, to what extent?\nThe violence of fermentation depends, not so much on the quantity of\nthe yeast, as on the composition of the wort, and its richness in\nfermentable material; and, as a preliminary to the discussion of this\nquestion, I venture to call to your minds the essential and fundamental\ndifferences between the Scottish and the English type of University.\n\nDo not charge me with anything worse than official egotism, if I say\nthat these differences appear to be largely symbolised by my own\nexistence. There is no Rector in an English University. Now, the\norganisation of the members of a University into Nations, with their\nelective Rector, is the last relic of the primitive constitution of\nUniversities. The Rectorate was the most important of all offices in\nthat University of Paris, upon the model of which the University of\nAberdeen was fashioned; and which was certainly a great and flourishing\ninstitution in the twelfth century.\n\nEnthusiasts for the antiquity of one of the two acknowledged parents of\nall Universities, indeed, do not hesitate to trace the origin of the\n\"Studium Parisiense\" up to that wonderful king of the Franks and\nLombards, Karl, surnamed the Great, whom we all called Charlemagne, and\nbelieved to be a Frenchman, until a learned historian, by beneficent\niteration, taught us better. Karl is said not to have been much of a\nscholar himself, but he had the wisdom of which knowledge is only the\nservitor. And that wisdom enabled him to see that ignorance is one of\nthe roots of all evil.\n\nIn the Capitulary which enjoins the foundation of monasterial and\ncathedral schools, he says: \"Right action is better than knowledge; but\nin order to do what is right, we must know what is right.\" [1] An\nirrefragable truth, I fancy. Acting upon it, the king took pretty full\ncompulsory powers, and carried into effect a really considerable and\neffectual scheme of elementary education through the length and breadth\nof his dominions.\n\nNo doubt the idolaters out by the Elbe, in what is now part of Prussia,\nobjected to the Frankish king's measures; no doubt the priests, who had\nnever hesitated about sacrificing all unbelievers in their fantastic\ndeities and futile conjurations, were the loudest in chanting the\nvirtues of toleration; no doubt they denounced as a cruel persecutor\nthe man who would not allow them, however sincere they might be, to go\non spreading delusions which debased the intellect, as much as they\ndeadened the moral sense, and undermined the bonds of civil allegiance;\nno doubt, if they had lived in these times, they would have been able\nto show, with ease, that the king's proceedings were totally contrary\nto the best liberal principles. But it may be said, in justification of\nthe Teutonic ruler, first, that he was born before those principles,\nand did not suspect that the best way of getting disorder into order\nwas to let it alone; and, secondly, that his rough and questionable\nproceedings did, more or less, bring about the end he had in view. For,\nin a couple of centuries, the schools he sowed broadcast produced their\ncrop of men, thirsting for knowledge and craving for culture. Such men\ngravitating towards Paris, as a light amidst the darkness of evil days,\nfrom Germany, from Spain, from Britain, and from Scandinavia, came\ntogether by natural affinity. By degrees they banded themselves into a\nsociety, which, as its end was the knowledge of all things knowable,\ncalled itself a \"_Studium Generale_;\" and when it had grown into a\nrecognised corporation, acquired the name of \"_Universitas Studii\nGeneralis_,\" which, mark you, means not a \"Useful Knowledge\nSociety,\" but a \"Knowledge-of-things-in-general Society.\"\n\nAnd thus the first \"University,\" at any rate on this side of the Alps,\ncame into being. Originally it had but one Faculty, that of Arts. Its\naim was to be a centre of knowledge and culture; not to be, in any\nsense, a technical school.\n\nThe scholars seem to have studied Grammar, Logic, and Rhetoric;\nArithmetic and Geometry; Astronomy; Theology; and Music. Thus, their\nwork, however imperfect and faulty, judged by modern lights, it may\nhave been, brought them face to face with all the leading aspects of\nthe many-sided mind of man. For these studies did really contain, at\nany rate in embryo--sometimes, it may be, in caricature--what we now\ncall Philosophy, Mathematical and Physical Science, and Art. And I\ndoubt if the curriculum of any modern University shows so clear and\ngenerous a comprehension of what is meant by culture, as this old\nTrivium and Quadrivium does.\n\nThe students who had passed through the University course, and had\nproved themselves competent to teach, became masters and teachers of\ntheir younger brethren. Whence the distinction of Masters and Regents\non the one hand, and Scholars on the other.\n\nRapid growth necessitated organisation. The Masters and Scholars of\nvarious tongues and countries grouped themselves into four Nations; and\nthe Nations, by their own votes at first, and subsequently by those of\ntheir Procurators, or representatives, elected their supreme head and\ngovernor, the Rector--at that time the sole representative of the\nUniversity, and a very real power, who could defy Provosts interfering\nfrom without; or could inflict even corporal punishment on disobedient\nmembers within the University.\n\nSuch was the primitive constitution of the University of Paris. It is\nin reference to this original state of things that I have spoken of the\nRectorate, and all that appertains to it, as the sole relic of that\nconstitution.\n\nBut this original organisation did not last long. Society was not then,\nany more than it is now, patient of culture, as such. It says to\neverything, \"Be useful to me, or away with you.\" And to the learned,\nthe unlearned man said then, as he does now, \"What is the use of all\nyour learning, unless you can tell me what I want to know? I am here\nblindly groping about, and constantly damaging myself by collision with\nthree mighty powers, the power of the invisible God, the power of my\nfellow Man, and the power of brute Nature. Let your learning be turned\nto the study of these powers, that I may know how I am to comport\nmyself with regard to them.\" In answer to this demand, some of the\nMasters of the Faculty of Arts devoted themselves to the study of\nTheology, some to that of Law, and some to that of Medicine; and they\nbecame Doctors--men learned in those technical, or, as we now call\nthem, professional, branches of knowledge. Like cleaving to like, the\nDoctors formed schools, or Faculties, of Theology, Law, and Medicine,\nwhich sometimes assumed airs of superiority over their parent, the\nFaculty of Arts, though the latter always asserted and maintained its\nfundamental supremacy.\n\nThe Faculties arose by process of natural differentiation out of the\nprimitive University. Other constituents, foreign to its nature, were\nspeedily grafted upon it. One of these extraneous elements was forced\ninto it by the Roman Church, which in those days asserted with effect,\nthat which it now asserts, happily without any effect in these realms,\nits right of censorship and control over all teaching. The local\nhabitation of the University lay partly in the lands attached to the\nmonastery of S. Genevi\u00e8ve, partly in the diocese of the Bishop of\nParis; and he who would teach must have the licence of the Abbot, or of\nthe Bishop, as the nearest representative of the Pope, so to do, which\nlicence was granted by the Chancellors of these Ecclesiastics.\n\nThus, if I am what archaeologists call a \"survival\" of the primitive\nhead and ruler of the University, your Chancellor stands in the same\nrelation to the Papacy; and, with all respect for his Grace, I think I\nmay say that we both look terribly shrunken when compared with our\ngreat originals.\n\nNot so is it with a second foreign element, which silently dropped into\nthe soil of Universities, like the grain of mustard-seed in the\nparable; and, like that grain, grew into a tree, in whose branches a\nwhole aviary of fowls took shelter. That element is the element of\nEndowment. It differed from the preceding, in its original design to\nserve as a prop to the young plant, not to be a parasite upon it. The\ncharitable and the humane, blessed with wealth, were very early\npenetrated by the misery of the poor student. And the wise saw that\nintellectual ability is not so common or so unimportant a gift that it\nshould be allowed to run to waste upon mere handicrafts and chares. The\nman who was a blessing to his contemporaries, but who so often has been\nconverted into a curse, by the blind adherence of his posterity to the\nletter, rather than to the spirit, of his wishes--I mean the \"pious\nfounder\"--gave money and lands, that the student, who was rich in brain\nand poor in all else, might be taken from the plough or from the\nstithy, and enabled to devote himself to the higher service of mankind;\nand built colleges and halls in which he might be not only housed and\nfed, but taught.\n\nThe Colleges were very generally placed in strict subordination to the\nUniversity by their founders; but, in many cases, their endowment,\nconsisting of land, has undergone an \"unearned increment,\" which has\ngiven these societies a continually increasing weight and importance as\nagainst the unendowed, or fixedly endowed, University. In Pharaoh's\ndream, the seven lean kine eat up the seven fat ones. In the reality of\nhistorical fact, the fat Colleges have eaten up the lean Universities.\n\nEven here in Aberdeen, though the causes at work may have been somewhat\ndifferent, the effects have been similar; and you see how much more\nsubstantial an entity is the Very Reverend the Principal, analogue, if\nnot homologue, of the Principals of King's College, than the Rector,\nlineal representative of the ancient monarchs of the University, though\nnow, little more than a \"king of shreds and patches.\"\n\nDo not suppose that, in thus briefly tracing the process of University\nmetamorphosis, I have had any intention of quarrelling with its\nresults. Practically, it seems to me that the broad changes effected in\n1858 have given the Scottish Universities a very liberal constitution,\nwith as much real approximation to the primitive state of things as is\nat all desirable. If your fat kine have eaten the lean, they have not\nlain down to chew the cud ever since. The Scottish Universities, like\nthe English, have diverged widely enough from their primitive model;\nbut I cannot help thinking that the northern form has remained more\nfaithful to its original, not only in constitution, but, what is more\nto the purpose, in view of the cry for change, in the practical\napplication of the endowments connected with it.\n\nIn Aberdeen, these endowments are numerous, but so small that, taken\naltogether, they are not equal to the revenue of a single third-rate\nEnglish college. They are scholarships, not fellowships; aids to do\nwork--not rewards for such work as it lies within the reach of an\nordinary, or even an extraordinary, young man to do. You do not think\nthat passing a respectable examination is a fair equivalent for an\nincome, such as many a grey-headed veteran, or clergyman would envy;\nand which is larger than the endowment of many Regius chairs. You do\nnot care to make your University a school of manners for the rich; of\nsports for the athletic; or a hot-bed of high-fed, hypercritical\nrefinement, more destructive to vigour and originality than are\nstarvation and oppression. No; your little Bursaries of ten and twenty\n(I believe even fifty) pounds a year, enabled any boy who has shown\nability in the course of his education in those remarkable primary\nschools, which have made Scotland the power she is, to obtain the\nhighest culture the country can give him; and when he is armed and\nequipped, his Spartan Alma Mater tells him that, so far, he has had his\nwages for his work, and that he may go and earn the rest.\n\nWhen I think of the host of pleasant, moneyed, well-bred young\ngentlemen, who do a little learning and much boating by Cam and Isis,\nthe vision is a pleasant one; and, as a patriot, I rejoice that the\nyouth of the upper and richer classes of the nation receive a wholesome\nand a manly training, however small may be the modicum of knowledge\nthey gather, in the intervals of this, their serious business. I admit,\nto the full, the social and political value of that training. But, when\nI proceed to consider that these young men may be said to represent the\ngreat bulk of what the Colleges have to show for their enormous wealth,\nplus, at least, a hundred and fifty pounds a year apiece which each\nundergraduate costs his parents or guardians, I feel inclined to ask,\nwhether the rate-in-aid of the education of the wealthy and\nprofessional classes, thus levied on the resources of the community, is\nnot, after all, a little heavy? And, still further, I am tempted to\ninquire what has become of the indigent scholars, the sons of the\nmasses of the people whose daily labour just suffices to meet their\ndaily wants, for whose benefit these rich foundations were largely, if\nnot mainly, instituted? It seems as if Pharaoh's dream had been\nrigorously carried out, and that even the fat scholar has eaten the\nlean one. And when I turn from this picture to the no less real vision\nof many a brave and frugal Scotch boy, spending his summer in hard\nmanual labour, that he may have the privilege of wending his way in\nautumn to this University, with a bag of oatmeal, ten pounds in his\npocket, and his own stout heart to depend upon through the northern\nwinter; not bent on seeking\n\n    \"The bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth,\"\n\nbut determined to wring knowledge from the hard hands of penury; when I\nsee him win through all such outward obstacles to positions of wide\nusefulness and well-earned fame; I cannot but think that, in essence,\nAberdeen has departed but little from the primitive intention of the\nfounders of Universities, and that the spirit of reform has so much to\ndo on the other side of the Border, that it may be long before he has\nleisure to look this way.\n\nAs compared with other actual Universities, then, Aberdeen, may,\nperhaps, be well satisfied with itself. But do not think me an\nimpracticable dreamer, if I ask you not to rest and be thankful in this\nstate of satisfaction; if I ask you to consider awhile, how this actual\ngood stands related to that ideal better, towards which both men and\ninstitutions must progress, if they would not retrograde.\n\nIn an ideal University, as I conceive it, a man should be able to\nobtain instruction in all forms of knowledge, and discipline in the use\nof all the methods by which knowledge is obtained. In such a\nUniversity, the force of living example should fire the student with a\nnoble ambition to emulate the learning of learned men, and to follow in\nthe footsteps of the explorers of new fields of knowledge. And the very\nair he breathes should be charged with that enthusiasm for truth, that\nfanaticism of veracity, which is a greater possession than much\nlearning; a nobler gift than the power of increasing knowledge; by so\nmuch greater and nobler than these, as the moral nature of man is\ngreater than the intellectual; for veracity is the heart of morality.\n\nBut the man who is all morality and intellect, although he may be good\nand even great, is, after all, only half a man. There is beauty in the\nmoral world and in the intellectual world; but there is also a beauty\nwhich is neither moral nor intellectual--the beauty of the world of\nArt. There are men who are devoid of the power of seeing it, as there\nare men who are born deaf and blind, and the loss of those, as of\nthese, is simply infinite. There are others in whom it is an\noverpowering passion; happy men, born with the productive, or at\nlowest, the appreciative, genius of the Artist. But, in the mass of\nmankind, the Aesthetic faculty, like the reasoning power and the moral\nsense, needs to be roused, directed, and cultivated; and I know not why\nthe development of that side of his nature, through which man has\naccess to a perennial spring of ennobling pleasure, should be omitted\nfrom any comprehensive scheme of University education.\n\nAll Universities recognise Literature in the sense of the old Rhetoric,\nwhich is art incarnate in words. Some, to their credit, recognise Art\nin its narrower sense, to a certain extent, and confer degrees for\nproficiency in some of its branches. If there are Doctors of Music, why\nshould there be no Masters of painting, of Sculpture, of Architecture?\nI should like to see Professors of the Fine Arts in every University;\nand instruction in some branch of their work made a part of the Arts\ncurriculum.\n\nI just now expressed the opinion that, in our ideal University, a man\nshould be able to obtain instruction in all forms of knowledge. Now, by\n\"forms of knowledge\" I mean the great classes of things knowable; of\nwhich the first, in logical, though not in natural, order is knowledge\nrelating to the scope and limits of the mental faculties of man, a form\nof knowledge which, in its positive aspect, answers pretty much to\nLogic and part of Psychology, while, on its negative and critical side,\nit corresponds with Metaphysics.\n\nA second class comprehends all that knowledge which relates to man's\nwelfare, so far as it is determined by his own acts, or what we call\nhis conduct. It answers to Moral and Religious philosophy. Practically,\nit is the most directly valuable of all forms of knowledge, but\nspeculatively, it is limited and criticised by that which precedes and\nby that which follows it in my order of enumeration.\n\nA third class embraces knowledge of the phaenomena of the Universe, as\nthat which lies about the individual man; and of the rules which those\nphaenomena are observed to follow in the order of their occurrence,\nwhich we term the laws of Nature.\n\nThis is what ought to be called Natural Science, or Physiology, though\nthose terms are hopelessly diverted from such a meaning; and it\nincludes all exact knowledge of natural fact, whether Mathematical,\nPhysical, Biological, or Social.\n\nKant has said that the ultimate object of all knowledge is to give\nreplies to these three questions: What can I do? What ought I to do?\nWhat may I hope for? The forms of knowledge which I have enumerated,\nshould furnish such replies as are within human reach, to the first and\nsecond of these questions. While to the third, perhaps the wisest\nanswer is, \"Do what you can to do what you ought, and leave hoping and\nfearing alone.\"\n\nIf this be a just and an exhaustive classification of the forms of\nknowledge, no question as to their relative importance, or as to the\nsuperiority of one to the other, can be seriously raised.\n\nOn the face of the matter, it is absurd to ask whether it is more\nimportant to know the limits of one's powers; or the ends for which\nthey ought to be exerted; or the conditions under which they must be\nexerted. One may as well inquire which of the terms of a Rule of Three\nsum one ought to know, in order to get a trustworthy result. Practical\nlife is such a sum, in which your duty multiplied into your capacity,\nand divided by your circumstances, gives you the fourth term in the\nproportion, which is your deserts, with great accuracy. All agree, I\ntake it, that men ought to have these three kinds of knowledge. The\nso-called \"conflict of studies\" turns upon the question of how they may\nbest be obtained.\n\nThe founders of Universities held the theory that the Scriptures and\nAristotle taken together, the latter being limited by the former,\ncontained all knowledge worth having, and that the business of\nphilosophy was to interpret and co-ordinate these two. I imagine that\nin the twelfth century this was a very fair conclusion from known\nfacts. Nowhere in the world, in those days, was there such an\nencyclopaedia of knowledge of all three classes, as is to be found in\nthose writings. The scholastic philosophy is a wonderful monument of\nthe patience and ingenuity with which the human mind toiled to build up\na logically consistent theory of the Universe, out of such materials.\nAnd that philosophy is by no means dead and buried, as many vainly\nsuppose. On the contrary, numbers of men of no mean learning and\naccomplishment, and sometimes of rare power and subtlety of thought,\nhold by it as the best theory of things which has yet been stated. And,\nwhat is still more remarkable, men who speak the language of modern\nphilosophy, nevertheless think the thoughts of the schoolmen. \"The\nvoice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.\"\nEvery day I hear \"Cause,\" \"Law,\" \"Force,\" \"Vitality,\" spoken of as\nentities, by people who can enjoy Swift's joke about the meat-roasting\nquality of the smoke-jack, and comfort themselves with the reflection\nthat they are not even as those benighted schoolmen.\n\nWell, this great system had its day, and then it was sapped and mined\nby two influences. The first was the study of classical literature,\nwhich familiarised men with methods of philosophising; with conceptions\nof the highest Good; with ideas of the order of Nature; with notions of\nLiterary and Historical Criticism; and, above all, with visions of Art,\nof a kind which not only would not fit into the scholastic scheme, but\nshowed them a pre-Christian, and indeed altogether un-Christian world,\nof such grandeur and beauty that they ceased to think of any other.\nThey were as men who had kissed the Fairy Queen, and wandering with her\nin the dim loveliness of the under-world, cared not to return to the\nfamiliar ways of home and fatherland, though they lay, at arm's length,\noverhead. Cardinals were more familiar with Virgil than with Isaiah;\nand Popes laboured, with great success, to re-paganise Rome.\n\nThe second influence was the slow, but sure, growth of the physical\nsciences. It was discovered that some results of speculative thought,\nof immense practical and theoretical importance, can be verified by\nobservation; and are always true, however severely they may be tested.\nHere, at any rate, was knowledge, to the certainty of which no\nauthority could add, or take away, one jot or tittle, and to which the\ntradition of a thousand years was as insignificant as the hearsay of\nyesterday. To the scholastic system, the study of classical literature\nmight be inconvenient and distracting, but it was possible to hope that\nit could be kept within bounds. Physical science, on the other hand,\nwas an irreconcilable enemy, to be excluded at all hazards. The College\nof Cardinals has not distinguished itself in Physics or Physiology; and\nno Pope has, as yet, set up public laboratories in the Vatican.\n\nPeople do not always formulate the beliefs on which they act. The\ninstinct of fear and dislike is quicker than the reasoning process; and\nI suspect that, taken in conjunction with some other causes, such\ninstinctive aversion is at the bottom of the long exclusion of any\nserious discipline in the physical sciences from the general curriculum\nof Universities; while, on the other hand, classical literature has\nbeen gradually made the backbone of the Arts course.\n\nI am ashamed to repeat here what I have said elsewhere, in season and\nout of season, respecting the value of Science as knowledge and\ndiscipline. But the other day I met with some passages in the Address\nto another Scottish University, of a great thinker, recently lost to\nus, which express so fully and yet so tersely, the truth in this matter\nthat I am fain to quote them:--\n\n\"To question all things;--never to turn away from any difficulty; to\naccept no doctrine either from ourselves or from other people without a\nrigid scrutiny by negative criticism; letting no fallacy, or\nincoherence, or confusion of thought, step by unperceived; above all,\nto insist upon having the meaning of a word clearly understood before\nusing it, and the meaning of a proposition before assenting to\nit;--these are the lessons we learn\" from workers in Science. \"With all\nthis vigorous management of the negative element, they inspire no\nscepticism about the reality of truth or indifference to its pursuit.\nThe noblest enthusiasm, both for the search after truth and for\napplying it to its highest uses, pervades those writers.\" \"In\ncultivating, therefore,\" science as an essential ingredient in\neducation, \"we are all the while laying an admirable foundation for\nethical and philosophical culture.\" [2]\n\nThe passages I have quoted were uttered by John Stuart Mill; but you\ncannot hear inverted commas, and it is therefore right that I should\nadd, without delay, that I have taken the liberty of substituting\n\"workers in science\" for \"ancient dialecticians,\" and \"Science as an\nessential ingredient in education\" for \"the ancient languages as our\nbest literary education.\" Mill did, in fact, deliver a noble panegyric\nupon classical studies. I do not doubt its justice, nor presume to\nquestion its wisdom. But I venture to maintain that no wise or just\njudge, who has a knowledge of the facts, will hesitate to say that it\napplies with equal force to scientific training.\n\nBut it is only fair to the Scottish Universities to point out that they\nhave long understood the value of Science as a branch of general\neducation. I observe, with the greatest satisfaction, that candidates\nfor the degree of Master of Arts in this University are required to\nhave a knowledge, not only of Mental and Moral Philosophy, and of\nMathematics and Natural Philosophy, but of Natural History, in addition\nto the ordinary Latin and Greek course; and that a candidate may take\nhonours in these subjects and in Chemistry.\n\nI do not know what the requirements of your examiners may be, but I\nsincerely trust they are not satisfied with a mere book knowledge of\nthese matters. For my own part I would not raise a finger, if I could\nthereby introduce mere book work in science into every Arts curriculum\nin the country. Let those who want to study books devote themselves to\nLiterature, in which we have the perfection of books, both as to\nsubstance and as to form. If I may paraphrase Hobbes's well-known\naphorism, I would say that \"books are the money of Literature, but only\nthe counters of Science,\" Science (in the sense in which I now use the\nterm) being the knowledge of fact, of which every verbal description is\nbut an incomplete and symbolic expression. And be assured that no\nteaching of science is worth anything, as a mental discipline, which is\nnot based upon direct perception of the facts, and practical exercise\nof the observing and logical faculties upon them. Even in such a simple\nmatter as the mere comprehension of form, ask the most practised and\nwidely informed anatomist what is the difference between his knowledge\nof a structure which he has read about, and his knowledge of the same\nstructure when he has seen it for himself; and he will tell you that\nthe two things are not comparable--the difference is infinite. Thus I\nam very strongly inclined to agree with some learned schoolmasters who\nsay that, in their experience, the teaching of science is all waste\ntime. As they teach it, I have no doubt it is. But to teach it\notherwise requires an amount of personal labour and a development of\nmeans and appliances, which must strike horror and dismay into a man\naccustomed to mere book work; and who has been in the habit of teaching\na class of fifty without much strain upon his energies. And this is one\nof the real difficulties in the way of the introduction of physical\nscience into the ordinary University course, to which I have alluded.\nIt is a difficulty which will not be overcome, until years of patient\nstudy have organised scientific teaching as well as, or I hope better\nthan, classical teaching has been organised hitherto.\n\nA little while ago, I ventured to hint a doubt as to the perfection of\nsome of the arrangements in the ancient Universities of England; but,\nin their provision for giving instruction in Science as such, and\nwithout direct reference to any of its practical applications, they\nhave set a brilliant example. Within the last twenty years, Oxford\nalone has sunk more than a hundred and twenty thousand pounds in\nbuilding and furnishing Physical, Chemical, and Physiological\nLaboratories, and a magnificent Museum, arranged with an almost\nluxurious regard for the needs of the student. Cambridge, less rich,\nbut aided by the munificence of her Chancellor, is taking the same\ncourse; and in a few years, it will be for no lack of the means and\nappliances of sound teaching, if the mass of English University men\nremain in their present state of barbarous ignorance of even the\nrudiments of scientific culture.\n\nYet another step needs to be made before Science can be said to have\ntaken its proper place in the Universities. That is its recognition as\na Faculty, or branch of study demanding recognition and special\norganisation, on account of its bearing on the wants of mankind. The\nFaculties of Theology, Law, and Medicine, are technical schools,\nintended to equip men who have received general culture, with the\nspecial knowledge which is needed for the proper performance of the\nduties of clergymen, lawyers, and medical practitioners.\n\nWhen the material well-being of the country depended upon rude pasture\nand agriculture, and still ruder mining; in the days when all the\ninnumerable applications of the principles of physical science to\npractical purposes were non-existent even as dreams; days which men\nliving may have heard their fathers speak of; what little physical\nscience could be seen to bear directly upon human life, lay within the\nprovince of Medicine. Medicine was the foster-mother of Chemistry,\nbecause it has to do with the preparation of drugs and the detection of\npoisons; of Botany, because it enabled the physician to recognise\nmedicinal herbs; of Comparative Anatomy and Physiology, because the man\nwho studied Human Anatomy and Physiology for purely medical purposes\nwas led to extend his studies to the rest of the animal world.\n\nWithin my recollection, the only way in which a student could obtain\nanything like a training in Physical Science, was by attending the\nlectures of the Professors of Physical and Natural Science attached to\nthe Medical Schools. But, in the course of the last thirty years, both\nfoster-mother and child have grown so big, that they threaten not only\nto crush one another, but to press the very life out of the unhappy\nstudent who enters the nursery; to the great detriment of all three.\n\nI speak in the presence of those who know practically what medical\neducation is; for I may assume that a large proportion of my hearers\nare more or less advanced students of medicine. I appeal to the most\nindustrious and conscientious among you, to those who are most deeply\npenetrated with a sense of the extremely serious responsibilities which\nattach to the calling of a medical practitioner, when I ask whether,\nout of the four years which you devote to your studies, you ought to\nspare even so much as an hour for any work which does not tend directly\nto fit you for your duties?\n\nConsider what that work is. Its foundation is a sound and practical\nacquaintance with the structure of the human organism, and with the\nmodes and conditions of its action in health. I say a sound and\npractical acquaintance, to guard against the supposition that my\nintention is to suggest that you ought all to be minute anatomists and\naccomplished physiologists. The devotion of your whole four years to\nAnatomy and Physiology alone, would be totally insufficient to attain\nthat end. What I mean is, the sort of practical, familiar, finger-end\nknowledge which a watchmaker has of a watch, and which you expect that\ncraftsman, as an honest man, to have, when you entrust a watch that\ngoes badly, to him. It is a kind of knowledge which is to be acquired,\nnot in the lecture-room, nor in the library, but in the dissecting-room\nand the laboratory. It is to be had not by sharing your attention\nbetween these and sundry other subjects, but by concentrating your\nminds, week after week, and month after month, six or seven hours a\nday, upon all the complexities of organ and function, until each of the\ngreater truths of anatomy and physiology has become an organic part of\nyour minds--until you would know them if you were roused and questioned\nin the middle of the night, as a man knows the geography of his native\nplace and the daily life of his home. That is the sort of knowledge\nwhich, once obtained, is a life-long possession. Other occupations may\nfill your minds--it may grow dim, and seem to be forgotten--but there\nit is, like the inscription on a battered and defaced coin, which comes\nout when you warm it.\n\nIf I had the power to remodel Medical Education, the first two years of\nthe medical curriculum should be devoted to nothing but such thorough\nstudy of Anatomy and Physiology, with Physiological Chemistry and\nPhysics; the student should then pass a real, practical examination in\nthese subjects; and, having gone through that ordeal satisfactorily, he\nshould be troubled no more with them. His whole mind should then be\ngiven with equal intentness to Therapeutics, in its broadest sense, to\nPractical Medicine and to Surgery, with instruction in Hygiene and in\nMedical Jurisprudence; and of these subjects only--surely there are\nenough of them--should he be required to show a knowledge in his final\nexamination.\n\nI cannot claim any special property in this theory of what the medical\ncurriculum should be, for I find that views, more or less closely\napproximating these, are held by all who have seriously considered the\nvery grave and pressing question of Medical Reform; and have, indeed,\nbeen carried into practice, to some extent, by the most enlightened\nExamining Boards. I have heard but two kinds of objections to them.\nThere is first, the objection of vested interests, which I will not\ndeal with here, because I want to make myself as pleasant as I can, and\nno discussions are so unpleasant as those which turn on such points.\nAnd there is, secondly, the much more respectable objection, which\ntakes the general form of the reproach that, in thus limiting the\ncurriculum, we are seeking to narrow it. We are told that the medical\nman ought to be a person of good education and general information, if\nhis profession is to hold its own among other professions; that he\nought to know Botany, or else, if he goes abroad, he will not be able\nto tell poisonous fruits from edible ones; that he ought to know drugs,\nas a druggist knows them, or he will not be able to tell sham bark\nand senna from the real articles; that he ought to know Zoology,\nbecause--well, I really have never been able to learn exactly why he is\nto be expected to know zoology. There is, indeed, a popular\nsuperstition, that doctors know all about things that are queer or\nnasty to the general mind, and may, therefore, be reasonably expected\nto know the \"barbarous binomials\" applicable to snakes, snails, and\nslugs; an amount of information with which the general mind is usually\ncompletely satisfied. And there is a scientific superstition that\nPhysiology is largely aided by Comparative Anatomy--a superstition\nwhich, like most superstitions, once had a grain of truth at bottom;\nbut the grain has become homoeopathic, since Physiology took its modern\nexperimental development, and became what it is now, the application of\nthe principles of Physics and Chemistry to the elucidation of the\nphaenomena of life.\n\nI hold as strongly as any one can do, that the medical practitioner\nought to be a person of education and good general culture; but I also\nhold by the old theory of a Faculty, that a man should have his general\nculture before he devotes himself to the special studies of that\nFaculty; and I venture to maintain, that, if the general culture\nobtained in the Faculty of Arts were what it ought to be, the student\nwould have quite as much knowledge of the fundamental principles of\nPhysics, of Chemistry, and of Biology, as he needs, before he commenced\nhis special medical studies.\n\nMoreover, I would urge, that a thorough study of Human Physiology is,\nin itself, an education broader and more comprehensive than much that\npasses under that name. There is no side of the intellect which it does\nnot call into play, no region of human knowledge into which either its\nroots, or its branches, do not extend; like the Atlantic between the\nOld and the New Worlds, its waves wash the shores of the two worlds of\nmatter and of mind; its tributary streams flow from both; through its\nwaters, as yet unfurrowed by the keel of any Columbus, lies the road,\nif such there be, from the one to the other; far away from that\nNorth-west Passage of mere speculation, in which so many brave souls\nhave been hopelessly frozen up.\n\nBut whether I am right or wrong about all this, the patent fact of the\nlimitation of time remains. As the song runs:--\n\n    \"If a man could be sure\n    That his life would endure\n  For the space of a thousand long years------\"\n\nhe might do a number of things not practicable under present\nconditions. Methuselah might, with much propriety, have taken half a\ncentury to get his doctor's degree; and might, very fairly, have been\nrequired to pass a practical examination upon the contents of the\nBritish Museum, before commencing practice as a promising young fellow\nof two hundred, or thereabouts. But you have four years to do your work\nin, and are turned loose, to save or slay, at two or three and twenty.\n\nNow, I put it to you, whether you think that, when you come down to the\nrealities of life--when you stand by the sick-bed, racking you brains\nfor the principles which shall furnish you with the means of\ninterpreting symptoms, and forming a rational theory of the condition\nof your patient, it will be satisfactory for you to find that those\nprinciples are not there--although, to use the examination slang which\nis unfortunately too familiar to me, you can quite easily \"give an\naccount of the leading peculiarities of the _Marsupialia_,\" or\n\"enumerate the chief characters of the _Compositae_,\" or \"state\nthe class and order of the animal from which Castoreum is obtained.\"\n\nI really do not think that state of things will be satisfactory to\nyou; I am very sure it will not be so to your patient. Indeed, I\nam so narrow-minded myself, that if I had to choose between two\nphysicians--one who did not know whether a whale is a fish or not, and\ncould not tell gentian from ginger, but did understand the applications\nof the institutes of medicine to his art; while the other, like\nTalleyrand's doctor, \"knew everything, even a little physic\"--with all\nmy love for breadth of culture, I should assuredly consult the former.\n\nIt is not pleasant to incur the suspicion of an inclination to injure\nor depreciate particular branches of knowledge. But the fact that one\nof those which I should have no hesitation in excluding from the\nmedical curriculum, is that to which my own life has been specially\ndevoted, should, at any rate, defend me from the suspicion of being\nurged to this course by any but the very gravest considerations of the\npublic welfare.\n\nAnd I should like, further, to call your attention to the important\ncircumstance that, in thus proposing the exclusion of the study of such\nbranches of knowledge as Zoology and Botany, from those compulsory upon\nthe medical student, I am not, for a moment, suggesting their exclusion\nfrom the University. I think that sound and practical instruction in\nthe elementary facts and broad principles of Biology should form part\nof the Arts Curriculum: and here, happily, my theory is in entire\naccordance with your practice. Moreover, as I have already said, I have\nno sort of doubt that, in view of the relation of Physical Science to\nthe practical life of the present day, it has the same right as\nTheology, Law, and Medicine, to a Faculty of its own in which men shall\nbe trained to be professional men of science. It may be doubted whether\nUniversities are the places for technical schools of Engineering or\napplied Chemistry, or Agriculture. But there can surely be little\nquestion, that instruction in the branches of Science which lie at the\nfoundation of these Arts, of a far more advanced and special character\nthan could, with any propriety, be included in the ordinary Arts\nCurriculum, ought to be obtainable by means of a duly organised Faculty\nof Science in every University.\n\nThe establishment of such a Faculty would have the additional advantage\nof providing, in some measure, for one of the greatest wants of our\ntime and country. I mean the proper support and encouragement of\noriginal research.\n\nThe other day, an emphatic friend of mine committed himself to the\nopinion that, in England, it is better for a man's worldly prospects to\nbe a drunkard, than to be smitten with the divine dipsomania of the\noriginal investigator. I am inclined to think he was not far wrong.\nAnd, be it observed, that the question is not, whether such a man shall\nbe able to make as much out of his abilities as his brother, of like\nability, who goes into Law, or Engineering, or Commerce; it is not a\nquestion of \"maintaining a due number of saddle horses,\" as George\nEliot somewhere puts it--it is a question of living or starving.\n\nIf a student of my own subject shows power and originality, I dare not\nadvise him to adopt a scientific career; for, supposing he is able to\nmaintain himself until he has attained distinction, I cannot give him\nthe assurance that any amount of proficiency in the Biological Sciences\nwill be convertible into, even the most modest, bread and cheese. And I\nbelieve that the case is as bad, or perhaps worse, with other branches\nof Science. In this respect Britain, whose immense wealth and\nprosperity hang upon the thread of Applied Science, is far behind\nFrance, and infinitely behind Germany.\n\nAnd the worst of it is, that it is very difficult to see one's way to\nany immediate remedy for this state of affairs which shall be free from\na tendency to become worse than the disease.\n\nGreat schemes for the Endowment of Research have been proposed. It has\nbeen suggested, that Laboratories for all branches of Physical Science,\nprovided with every apparatus needed by the investigator, shall be\nestablished by the State: and shall be accessible, under due conditions\nand regulations, to all properly qualified persons. I see no objection\nto the principle of such a proposal. If it be legitimate to spend great\nsums of money on public Libraries and public collections of Painting\nand Sculpture, in aid of the Man of Letters, or the Artist, or for the\nmere sake of affording pleasure to the general public. I apprehend that\nit cannot be illegitimate to do as much for the promotion of scientific\ninvestigation. To take the lowest ground, as a mere investment of\nmoney, the latter is likely to be much more immediately profitable. To\nmy mind, the difficulty in the way of such schemes is not theoretical,\nbut practical. Given the laboratories, how are the investigators to be\nmaintained? What career is open to those who have been thus encouraged\nto leave bread-winning pursuits? If they are to be provided for by\nendowment, we come back to the College Fellowship system, the results\nof which, for Literature, have not been so brilliant that one would\nwish to see it extended to Science; unless some much better securities\nthan at present exist can be taken that it will foster real work. You\nknow that among the Bees, it depends on the kind of cell in which the\negg is deposited, and the quantity and quality of food which is\nsupplied to the grub, whether it shall turn out a busy little worker or\na big idle queen. And, in the human hive, the cells of the endowed\nlarvae are always tending to enlarge, and their food to improve, until\nwe get queens, beautiful to behold, but which gather no honey and build\nno comb.\n\nI do not say that these difficulties may not be overcome, but their\ngravity is not to be lightly estimated.\n\nIn the meanwhile, there is one step in the direction of the endowment\nof research which is free from such objections. It is possible to place\nthe scientific enquirer in a position in which he shall have ample\nleisure and opportunity for original work, and yet shall give a fair\nand tangible equivalent for those privileges. The establishment of a\nFaculty of Science in every University, implies that of a corresponding\nnumber of Professorial chairs, the incumbents of which need not be so\nburdened with teaching as to deprive them of ample leisure for original\nwork. I do not think that it is any impediment to an original\ninvestigator to have to devote a moderate portion of his time to\nlecturing, or superintending practical instruction. On the contrary, I\nthink it may be, and often is, a benefit to be obliged to take a\ncomprehensive survey of your subject; or to bring your results to a\npoint, and give them, as it were, a tangible objective existence. The\nbesetting sins of the investigator are two: the one is the desire to\nput aside a subject, the general bearings of which he has mastered\nhimself, and pass on to something which has the attraction of novelty;\nand the other, the desire for too much perfection, which leads him to\n\n  \"Add and alter many times,\n  Till all be ripe and rotten;\"\n\nto spend the energies which should be reserved for action in whitening\nthe decks and polishing the guns.\n\nThe obligation to produce results for the instruction of others, seems\nto me to be a more effectual check on these tendencies than even the\nlove of usefulness or the ambition for fame.\n\nBut supposing the Professorial forces of our University to be duly\norganised, there remains an important question, relating to the\nteaching power, to be considered. Is the Professorial system--the\nsystem, I mean, of teaching in the lecture-room alone, and\nleaving the student to find his own way when he is outside the\nlecture-room--adequate to the wants of learners? In answering this\nquestion, I confine myself to my own province, and I venture to reply\nfor Physical Science, assuredly and undoubtedly, No. As I have\nalready intimated, practical work in the Laboratory is absolutely\nindispensable, and that practical work must be guided and superintended\nby a sufficient staff of Demonstrators, who are for Science what Tutors\nare for other branches of study. And there must be a good supply of\nsuch Demonstrators. I doubt if the practical work of more than twenty\nstudents can be properly superintended by one Demonstrator. If we\ntake the working day at six hours, that is less than twenty minutes\napiece--not a very large allowance of time for helping a dull man, for\ncorrecting an inaccurate one, or even for making an intelligent student\nclearly apprehend what he is about. And, no doubt, the supplying of a\nproper amount of this tutorial, practical teaching, is a difficulty in\nthe way of giving proper instruction in Physical Science in such\nUniversities as that of Aberdeen, which are devoid of endowments; and,\nunlike the English Universities, have no moral claim on the funds of\nrichly endowed bodies to supply their wants.\n\nExamination--thorough, searching examination--is an indispensable\naccompaniment of teaching; but I am almost inclined to commit myself to\nthe very heterodox proposition that it is a necessary evil. I am a very\nold Examiner, having, for some twenty years past, been occupied with\nexaminations on a considerable scale, of all sorts and conditions of\nmen, and women too,--from the boys and girls of elementary schools to\nthe candidates for Honours and Fellowships in the Universities. I will\nnot say that, in this case as in so many others, the adage, that\nfamiliarity breeds contempt, holds good; but my admiration for the\nexisting system of examination and its products, does not wax warmer as\nI see more of it. Examination, like fire, is a good servant, but a bad\nmaster; and there seems to me to be some danger of its becoming our\nmaster. I by no means stand alone in this opinion. Experienced friends\nof mine do not hesitate to say that students whose career they watch,\nappear to them to become deteriorated by the constant effort to pass\nthis or that examination, just as we hear of men's brains becoming\naffected by the daily necessity of catching a train. They work to pass,\nnot to know; and outraged Science takes her revenge. They do pass, and\nthey don't know. I have passed sundry examinations in my time, not\nwithout credit, and I confess I am ashamed to think how very little\nreal knowledge underlay the torrent of stuff which I was able to pour\nout on paper. In fact, that which examination, as ordinarily conducted,\ntests, is simply a man's power of work under stimulus, and his capacity\nfor rapidly and clearly producing that which, for the time, he has got\ninto his mind. Now, these faculties are by no means to be despised.\nThey are of great value in practical life, and are the making of many\nan advocate, and of many a so-called statesman. But in the pursuit of\ntruth, scientific or other, they count for very little, unless they are\nsupplemented by that long-continued, patient \"intending of the mind,\"\nas Newton phrased it, which makes very little show in Examinations. I\nimagine that an Examiner who knows his students personally, must not\nunfrequently have found himself in the position of finding A's paper\nbetter than B's, though his own judgment tells him, quite clearly, that\nB is the man who has the larger share of genuine capacity.\n\nAgain, there is a fallacy about Examiners. It is commonly supposed that\nany one who knows a subject is competent to teach it; and no one seems\nto doubt that any one who knows a subject is competent to examine in\nit. I believe both these opinions to be serious mistakes: the latter,\nperhaps, the more serious of the two. In the first place, I do not\nbelieve that any one who is not, or has not been, a teacher is really\nqualified to examine advanced students. And in the second place,\nExamination is an Art, and a difficult one, which has to be learned\nlike all other arts.\n\nBeginners always set too difficult questions--partly because they are\nafraid of being suspected of ignorance if they set easy ones, and\npartly from not understanding their business. Suppose that you want to\ntest the relative physical strength of a score of young men. You do not\nput a hundredweight down before them, and tell each to swing it round.\nIf you do, half of them won't be able to lift it at all, and only one\nor two will be able to perform the task. You must give them half a\nhundredweight, and see how they manoeuvre that, if you want to form any\nestimate of the muscular strength of each. So, a practised Examiner\nwill seek for information respecting the mental vigour and training of\ncandidates from the way in which they deal with questions easy enough\nto let reason, memory, and method have free play.\n\nNo doubt, a great deal is to be done by the careful selection of\nExaminers, and by the copious introduction of practical work, to remove\nthe evils inseparable from examination; but, under the best of\ncircumstances, I believe that examination will remain but an imperfect\ntest of knowledge, and a still more imperfect test of capacity, while\nit tells next to nothing about a man's power as an investigator.\n\nThere is much to be said in favour of restricting the highest degrees\nin each Faculty, to those who have shown evidence of such original\npower, by prosecuting a research under the eye of the Professor in\nwhose province it lies; or, at any rate, under conditions which shall\nafford satisfactory proof that the work is theirs. The notion may sound\nrevolutionary, but it is really very old; for, I take it, that it lies\nat the bottom of that presentation of a thesis by the candidate for a\ndoctorate, which has now, too often, become little better than a matter\nof form.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus far, I have endeavoured to lay before you, in a too brief and\nimperfect manner, my views respecting the teaching half--the Magistri\nand Regentes--of the University of the Future. Now let me turn to the\nlearning half--the Scholares.\n\nIf the Universities are to be the sanctuaries of the highest culture of\nthe country, those who would enter that sanctuary must not come with\nunwashed hands. If the good seed is to yield its hundredfold harvest,\nit must not be scattered amidst the stones of ignorance, or the tares\nof undisciplined indolence and wantonness. On the contrary, the soil\nmust have been carefully prepared, and the Professor should find that\nthe operations of clod-crushing, draining, and weeding, and even a good\ndeal of planting, have been done by the Schoolmaster.\n\nThat is exactly what the Professor does not find in any University in\nthe three Kingdoms that I can hear of--the reason of which state of\nthings lies in the extremely faulty organisation of the majority of\nsecondary schools. Students come to the Universities ill-prepared in\nclassics and mathematics, not at all prepared in anything else; and\nhalf their time is spent in learning that which they ought to have\nknown when they came.\n\nI sometimes hear it said that the Scottish Universities differ from the\nEnglish, in being to a much greater extent places of comparatively\nelementary education for a younger class of students. But it would seem\ndoubtful if any great difference of this kind really exists; for a high\nauthority, himself Head of an English College, has solemnly affirmed\nthat: \"Elementary teaching of youths under twenty is now the only\nfunction performed by the University;\" and that Colleges are \"boarding\nschools in which the elements of the learned languages are taught to\nyouths.\" [3]\n\nThis is not the first time that I have quoted those remarkable\nassertions. I should like to engrave them in public view, for they have\nnot been refuted; and I am convinced that if their import is once\nclearly apprehended, they will play no mean part when the question of\nUniversity reorganisation, with a view to practical measures, comes on\nfor discussion. You are not responsible for this anomalous state of\naffairs now; but, as you pass into active life and acquire the\npolitical influence to which your education and your position should\nentitle you, you will become responsible for it, unless each in his\nsphere does his best to alter it, by insisting on the improvement of\nsecondary schools.\n\nYour present responsibility is of another, though not less serious,\nkind. Institutions do not make men, any more than organisation makes\nlife; and even the ideal University we have been dreaming about will be\nbut a superior piece of mechanism, unless each student strive after the\nideal of the Scholar. And that ideal, it seems to me, has never been\nbetter embodied than by the great Poet, who, though lapped in luxury,\nthe favourite of a Court, and the idol of his countrymen, remained\nthrough all the length of his honoured years a Scholar in Art, in\nScience, and in Life.\n\n\n  \"Wouldst shape a noble life! Then cast\n  No backward glances towards the past:\n  And though somewhat be lost and gone,\n  Yet do thou act as one new-born.\n  What each day needs, that shalt thou ask;\n  Each day will set its proper task.\n  Give others' work just share of praise;\n  Not of thine own the merits raise.\n  Beware no fellow man thou hate:\n  And so in God's hands leave thy fate.\" [4]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] \"Quamvis enim melius sit bene facere quam nosse, prius tamen est\nnosse quam facere.\"--\"Karoli Magni Regis Constitutio de Scholis per\nsingula Episcopia et Monasteria instituendis,\" addressed to the Abbot\nof Fulda. Baluzius, _Capitularia Regum Francorum_, T. i., p. 202.\n\n[2] Inaugural Address delivered to the University of St. Andrew,\nFebruary 1, 1867, by J. S. Mill, Rector of the University (pp. 32, 33).\n\n[3] _Suggestions for Academical Organisation, with Especial Reference\nto Oxford_. By the Rector of Lincoln.\n\n[4] Goethe, _Zahme Xenien, Vierte Abtheilung_. I should be glad to\ntake credit for the close and vigorous English version; but it is my\nwife's, and not mine.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\nADDRESS ON UNIVERSITY EDUCATION [1]\n\n[1876]\n\n\nThe actual work of the University founded in this city by the\nwell-considered munificence of Johns Hopkins commences to-morrow, and\namong the many marks of confidence and good-will which have been\nbestowed upon me in the United States, there is none which I value more\nhighly than that conferred by the authorities of the University when\nthey invited me to deliver an address on such an occasion.\n\nFor the event which has brought us together is, in many respects,\nunique. A vast property is handed over to an administrative body,\nhampered by no conditions save these:--That the principal shall not be\nemployed in building: that the funds shall be appropriated, in equal\nproportions, to the promotion of natural knowledge and to the\nalleviation of the bodily sufferings of mankind; and, finally, that\nneither political nor ecclesiastical sectarianism shall be permitted to\ndisturb the impartial distribution of the testator's benefactions.\n\nIn my experience of life a truth which sounds very much like a paradox\nhas often asserted itself: namely, that a man's worst difficulties\nbegin when he is able to do as he likes. So long as a man is struggling\nwith obstacles he has an excuse for failure or shortcoming; but when\nfortune removes them all and gives him the power of doing as he thinks\nbest, then comes the time of trial. There is but one right, and the\npossibilities of wrong are infinite. I doubt not that the trustees of\nthe Johns Hopkins University felt the full force of this truth when\nthey entered on the administration of their trust a year and a half\nago; and I can but admire the activity and resolution which have\nenabled them, aided by the able president whom they have selected, to\nlay down the great outlines of their plan, and carry it thus far into\nexecution. It is impossible to study that plan without perceiving that\ngreat care, forethought, and sagacity, have been bestowed upon it, and\nthat it demands the most respectful consideration. I have been\nendeavouring to ascertain how far the principles which underlie it are\nin accordance with those which have been established in my own mind by\nmuch and long-continued thought upon educational questions. Permit me\nto place before you the result of my reflections.\n\nUnder one aspect a university is a particular kind of educational\ninstitution, and the views which we may take of the proper nature of a\nuniversity are corollaries from those which we hold respecting\neducation in general. I think it must be admitted that the school\nshould prepare for the university, and that the university should crown\nthe edifice, the foundations of which are laid in the school.\nUniversity education should not be something distinct from elementary\neducation, but should be the natural outgrowth and development of the\nlatter. Now I have a very clear conviction as to what elementary\neducation ought to be; what it really may be, when properly organised;\nand what I think it will be, before many years have passed over our\nheads, in England and in America. Such education should enable an\naverage boy of fifteen or sixteen to read and write his own language\nwith ease and accuracy, and with a sense of literary excellence derived\nfrom the study of our classic writers: to have a general acquaintance\nwith the history of his own country and with the great laws of social\nexistence; to have acquired the rudiments of the physical and\npsychological sciences, and a fair knowledge of elementary arithmetic\nand geometry. He should have obtained an acquaintance with logic rather\nby example than by precept; while the acquirement of the elements of\nmusic and drawing should have been pleasure rather than work.\n\nIt may sound strange to many ears if I venture to maintain the\nproposition that a young person, educated thus far, has had a liberal,\nthough perhaps not a full, education. But it seems to me that such\ntraining as that to which I have referred may be termed liberal, in\nboth the senses in which that word is employed, with perfect accuracy.\nIn the first place, it is liberal in breadth. It extends over the whole\nground of things to be known and of faculties to be trained, and it\ngives equal importance to the two great sides of human activity--art\nand science. In the second place, it is liberal in the sense of being\nan education fitted for free men; for men to whom every career is open,\nand from whom their country may demand that they should be fitted to\nperform the duties of any career. I cannot too strongly impress upon\nyou the fact that, with such a primary education as this, and with no\nmore than is to be obtained by building strictly upon its lines, a man\nof ability may become a great writer or speaker, a statesman, a lawyer,\na man of science, painter, sculptor, architect, or musician. That even\ndevelopment of all a man's faculties, which is what properly\nconstitutes culture, may be effected by such an education, while it\nopens the way for the indefinite strengthening of any special\ncapabilities with which he may be gifted.\n\nIn a country like this, where most men have to carve out their own\nfortunes and devote themselves early to the practical affairs of life,\ncomparatively few can hope to pursue their studies up to, still less\nbeyond, the age of manhood. But it is of vital importance to the\nwelfare of the community that those who are relieved from the need of\nmaking a livelihood, and still more, those who are stirred by the\ndivine impulses of intellectual thirst or artistic genius, should be\nenabled to devote themselves to the higher service of their kind, as\ncentres of intelligence, interpreters of Nature, or creators of new\nforms of beauty. And it is the function of a university to furnish such\nmen with the means of becoming that which it is their privilege and\nduty to be. To this end the university need cover no ground foreign to\nthat occupied by the elementary school. Indeed it cannot; for the\nelementary instruction which I have referred to embraces all the kinds\nof real knowledge and mental activity possible to man. The university\ncan add no new departments of knowledge, can offer no new fields of\nmental activity; but what it can do is to intensify and specialise the\ninstruction in each department. Thus literature and philology,\nrepresented in the elementary school by English alone, in the\nuniversity will extend over the ancient and modern languages. History,\nwhich, like charity, best begins at home, but, like charity, should not\nend there, will ramify into anthropology, archaeology, political\nhistory, and geography, with the history of the growth of the human\nmind and of its products in the shape of philosophy, science, and art.\nAnd the university will present to the student libraries, museums of\nantiquities, collections of coins, and the like, which will efficiently\nsubserve these studies. Instruction in the elements of social economy,\na most essential, but hitherto sadly-neglected part of elementary\neducation, will develop in the university into political economy,\nsociology, and law. Physical science will have its great divisions of\nphysical geography, with geology and astronomy; physics; chemistry and\nbiology; represented not merely by professors and their lectures, but\nby laboratories, in which the students, under guidance of\ndemonstrators, will work out facts for themselves and come into that\ndirect contact with reality which constitutes the fundamental\ndistinction of scientific education. Mathematics will soar into its\nhighest regions; while the high peaks of philosophy may be scaled by\nthose whose aptitude for abstract thought has been awakened by\nelementary logic. Finally, schools of pictorial and plastic art, of\narchitecture, and of music, will offer a thorough discipline in the\nprinciples and practice of art to those in whom lies nascent the rare\nfaculty of aesthetic representation, or the still rarer powers of\ncreative genius.\n\nThe primary school and the university are the alpha and omega of\neducation. Whether institutions intermediate between these (so-called\nsecondary schools) should exist, appears to me to be a question of\npractical convenience. If such schools are established, the important\nthing is that they should be true intermediaries between the primary\nschool and the university, keeping on the wide track of general\nculture, and not sacrificing one branch of knowledge for another.\n\nSuch appear to me to be the broad outlines of the relations which the\nuniversity, regarded as a place of education, ought to bear to the\nschool, but a number of points of detail require some consideration,\nhowever briefly and imperfectly I can deal with them. In the first\nplace, there is the important question of the limitations which should\nbe fixed to the entrance into the university; or, what qualifications\nshould be required of those who propose to take advantage of the higher\ntraining offered by the university. On the one hand, it is obviously\ndesirable that the time and opportunities of the university should not\nbe wasted in conferring such elementary instruction as can be obtained\nelsewhere; while, on the other hand, it is no less desirable that the\nhigher instruction of the university should be made accessible to every\none who can take advantage of it, although he may not have been able to\ngo through any very extended course of education. My own feeling is\ndistinctly against any absolute and defined preliminary examination,\nthe passing of which shall be an essential condition of admission to\nthe university. I would admit to the university any one who could be\nreasonably expected to profit by the instruction offered to him; and I\nshould be inclined, on the whole, to test the fitness of the student,\nnot by examination before he enters the university, but at the end of\nhis first term of study. If, on examination in the branches of\nknowledge to which he has devoted himself, he show himself deficient in\nindustry or in capacity, it will be best for the university and best\nfor himself, to prevent him from pursuing a vocation for which he is\nobviously unfit. And I hardly know of any other method than this by\nwhich his fitness or unfitness can be safely ascertained, though no\ndoubt a good deal may be done, not by formal cut and dried examination,\nbut by judicious questioning, at the outset of his career.\n\nAnother very important and difficult practical question is, whether a\ndefinite course of study shall be laid down for those who enter the\nuniversity; whether a curriculum shall be prescribed; or whether the\nstudent shall be allowed to range at will among the subjects which are\nopen to him. And this question is inseparably connected with another,\nnamely, the conferring of degrees. It is obviously impossible that any\nstudent should pass through the whole of the series of courses of\ninstruction offered by a university. If a degree is to be conferred as\na mark of proficiency in knowledge, it must be given on the ground that\nthe candidate is proficient in a certain fraction of those studies; and\nthen will arise the necessity of insuring an equivalency of degrees, so\nthat the course by which a degree is obtained shall mark approximately\nan equal amount of labour and of acquirements, in all cases. But this\nequivalency can hardly be secured in any other way than by prescribing\na series of definite lines of study. This is a matter which will\nrequire grave consideration. The important points to bear in mind, I\nthink, are that there should not be too many subjects in the\ncurriculum, and that the aim should be the attainment of thorough and\nsound knowledge of each.\n\nOne half of the Johns Hopkins bequest is devoted to the establishment\nof a hospital, and it was the desire of the testator that the\nuniversity and the hospital should co-operate in the promotion of\nmedical education. The trustees will unquestionably take the best\nadvice that is to be had as to the construction and administration of\nthe hospital. In respect to the former point, they will doubtless\nremember that a hospital may be so arranged as to kill more than it\ncures; and, in regard to the latter, that a hospital may spread the\nspirit of pauperism among the well-to-do, as well as relieve the\nsufferings of the destitute. It is not for me to speak on these\ntopics--rather let me confine myself to the one matter on which my\nexperience as a student of medicine, and an examiner of long standing,\nwho has taken a great interest in the subject of medical education, may\nentitle me to a hearing. I mean the nature of medical education itself,\nand the co-operation of the university in its promotion.\n\nWhat is the object of medical education? It is to enable the\npractitioner, on the one hand, to prevent disease by his knowledge of\nhygiene; on the other hand, to divine its nature, and to alleviate or\ncure it, by his knowledge of pathology, therapeutics, and practical\nmedicine. That is his business in life, and if he has not a thorough\nand practical knowledge of the conditions of health, of the causes\nwhich tend to the establishment of disease, of the meaning of symptoms,\nand of the uses of medicines and operative appliances, he is\nincompetent, even if he were the best anatomist, or physiologist, or\nchemist, that ever took a gold medal or won a prize certificate. This\nis one great truth respecting medical education. Another is, that all\npractice in medicine is based upon theory of some sort or other; and\ntherefore, that it is desirable to have such theory in the closest\npossible accordance with fact. The veriest empiric who gives a drug in\none case because he has seen it do good in another of apparently the\nsame sort, acts upon the theory that similarity of superficial symptoms\nmeans similarity of lesions; which, by the way, is perhaps as wild an\nhypothesis as could be invented. To understand the nature of disease we\nmust understand health, and the understanding of the healthy body means\nthe having a knowledge of its structure and of the way in which its\nmanifold actions are performed, which is what is technically termed\nhuman anatomy and human physiology. The physiologist again must needs\npossess an acquaintance with physics and chemistry, inasmuch as\nphysiology is, to a great extent, applied physics and chemistry. For\nordinary purposes a limited amount of such knowledge is all that is\nneedful; but for the pursuit of the higher branches of physiology no\nknowledge of these branches of science can be too extensive, or too\nprofound. Again, what we call therapeutics, which has to do with the\naction of drugs and medicines on the living organism, is, strictly\nspeaking, a branch of experimental physiology, and is daily receiving a\ngreater and greater experimental development.\n\nThe third great fact which is to be taken into consideration in dealing\nwith medical education, is that the practical necessities of life do\nnot, as a rule, allow aspirants to medical practice to give more than\nthree, or it may be four years to their studies. Let us put it at four\nyears, and then reflect that, in the course of this time, a young man\nfresh from school has to acquaint himself with medicine, surgery,\nobstetrics, therapeutics, pathology, hygiene, as well as with the\nanatomy and the physiology of the human body; and that his knowledge\nshould be of such a character that it can be relied upon in any\nemergency, and always ready for practical application. Consider, in\naddition, that the medical practitioner may be called upon, at any\nmoment, to give evidence in a court of justice in a criminal case; and\nthat it is therefore well that he should know something of the laws of\nevidence, and of what we call medical jurisprudence. On a medical\ncertificate, a man may be taken from his home and from his business and\nconfined in a lunatic asylum; surely, therefore, it is desirable that\nthe medical practitioner should have some rational and clear\nconceptions as to the nature and symptoms of mental disease. Bearing in\nmind all these requirements of medical education, you will admit that\nthe burden on the young aspirant for the medical profession is somewhat\nof the heaviest, and that it needs some care to prevent his\nintellectual back from being broken.\n\nThose who are acquainted with the existing systems of medical education\nwill observe that, long as is the catalogue of studies which I have\nenumerated, I have omitted to mention several that enter into the usual\nmedical curriculum of the present day. I have said not a word about\nzoology, comparative anatomy, botany, or materia medica. Assuredly this\nis from no light estimate of the value or importance of such studies in\nthemselves. It may be taken for granted that I should be the last\nperson in the world to object to the teaching of zoology, or\ncomparative anatomy, in themselves; but I have the strongest feeling\nthat, considering the number and the gravity of those studies through\nwhich a medical man must pass, if he is to be competent to discharge\nthe serious duties which devolve upon him, subjects which lie so remote\nas these do from his practical pursuits should be rigorously excluded.\nThe young man, who has enough to do in order to acquire such\nfamiliarity with the structure of the human body as will enable him to\nperform the operations of surgery, ought not, in my judgment, to be\noccupied with investigations into the anatomy of crabs and starfishes.\nUndoubtedly the doctor should know the common poisonous plants of his\nown country when he sees them; but that knowledge may be obtained by a\nfew hours devoted to the examination of specimens of such plants, and\nthe desirableness of such knowledge is no justification, to my mind,\nfor spending three months over the study of systematic botany. Again,\nmateria medica, so far as it is a knowledge of drugs, is the business\nof the druggist. In all other callings the necessity of the division of\nlabour is fully recognised, and it is absurd to require of the medical\nman that he should not avail himself of the special knowledge of those\nwhose business it is to deal in the drugs which he uses. It is all very\nwell that the physician should know that castor oil comes from a plant,\nand castoreum from an animal, and how they are to be prepared; but for\nall the practical purposes of his profession that knowledge is not of\none whit more value, has no more relevancy, than the knowledge of how\nthe steel of his scalpel is made.\n\nAll knowledge is good. It is impossible to say that any fragment of\nknowledge, however insignificant or remote from one's ordinary\npursuits, may not some day be turned to account. But in medical\neducation, above all things, it is to be recollected that, in order to\nknow a little well, one must be content to be ignorant of a great deal.\n\nLet it not be supposed that I am proposing to narrow medical education,\nor, as the cry is, to lower the standard of the profession. Depend upon\nit there is only one way of really ennobling any calling, and that is\nto make those who pursue it real masters of their craft, men who can\ntruly do that which they profess to be able to do, and which they are\ncredited with being able to do by the public. And there is no position\nso ignoble as that of the so-called \"liberally-educated practitioner,\"\nwho may be able to read Galen in the original; who knows all the\nplants, from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop upon the wall; but who\nfinds himself, with the issues of life and death in his hands,\nignorant, blundering, and bewildered, because of his ignorance of the\nessential and fundamental truths upon which practice must be based.\nMoreover, I venture to say, that any man who has seriously studied all\nthe essential branches of medical knowledge; who has the needful\nacquaintance with the elements of physical science; who has been\nbrought by medical jurisprudence into contact with law; whose study of\ninsanity has taken him into the fields of psychology; has _ipso facto_\nreceived a liberal education.\n\nHaving lightened the medical curriculum by culling out of it everything\nwhich is unessential, we may next consider whether something may not be\ndone to aid the medical student toward the acquirement of real\nknowledge by modifying the system of examination. In England, within my\nrecollection, it was the practice to require of the medical student\nattendance on lectures upon the most diverse topics during three years;\nso that it often happened that he would have to listen, in the course\nof a day, to four or five lectures upon totally different subjects, in\naddition to the hours given to dissection and to hospital practice: and\nhe was required to keep all the knowledge he could pick up, in this\ndistracting fashion, at examination point, until, at the end of three\nyears, he was set down to a table and questioned pell-mell upon all the\ndifferent matters with which he had been striving to make acquaintance.\nA worse system and one more calculated to obstruct the acquisition of\nsound knowledge and to give full play to the \"crammer\" and the\n\"grinder\" could hardly have been devised by human ingenuity. Of late\nyears great reforms have taken place. Examinations have been divided so\nas to diminish the number of subjects among which the attention has to\nbe distributed. Practical examination has been largely introduced; but\nthere still remains, even under the present system, too much of the old\nevil inseparable from the contemporaneous pursuit of a multiplicity of\ndiverse studies.\n\nProposals have recently been made to get rid of general examinations\naltogether, to permit the student to be examined in each subject at the\nend of his attendance on the class; and then, in case of the result\nbeing satisfactory, to allow him to have done with it; and I may say\nthat this method has been pursued for many years in the Royal School of\nMines in London, and has been found to work very well. It allows the\nstudent to concentrate his mind upon what he is about for the time\nbeing, and then to dismiss it. Those who are occupied in intellectual\nwork, will, I think, agree with me that it is important, not so much to\nknow a thing, as to have known it, and known it thoroughly. If you have\nonce known a thing in this way it is easy to renew your knowledge when\nyou have forgotten it; and when you begin to take the subject up again,\nit slides back upon the familiar grooves with great facility.\n\nLastly comes the question as to how the university may co-operate in\nadvancing medical education. A medical school is strictly a technical\nschool--a school in which a practical profession is taught--while a\nuniversity ought to be a place in which knowledge is obtained without\ndirect reference to professional purposes. It is clear, therefore, that\na university and its antecedent, the school, may best co-operate with\nthe medical school by making due provision for the study of those\nbranches of knowledge which lie at the foundation of medicine.\n\nAt present, young men come to the medical schools without a conception\nof even the elements of physical science; they learn, for the first\ntime, that there are such sciences as physics, chemistry, and\nphysiology, and are introduced to anatomy as a new thing. It may be\nsafely said that, with a large proportion of medical students, much of\nthe first session is wasted in learning how to learn--in familiarising\nthemselves with utterly strange conceptions, and in awakening their\ndormant and wholly untrained powers of observation and of manipulation.\nIt is difficult to over-estimate the magnitude of the obstacles which\nare thrown in the way of scientific training by the existing system of\nschool education. Not only are men trained in mere book-work, ignorant\nof what observation means, but the habit of learning from books alone\nbegets a disgust of observation. The book-learned student will rather\ntrust to what he sees in a book than to the witness of his own eyes.\n\nThere is not the least reason why this should be so, and, in fact, when\nelementary education becomes that which I have assumed it ought to be,\nthis state of things will no longer exist. There is not the slightest\ndifficulty in giving sound elementary instruction in physics, in\nchemistry, and in the elements of human physiology, in ordinary\nschools. In other words, there is no reason why the student should not\ncome to the medical school, provided with as much knowledge of these\nseveral sciences as he ordinarily picks up in the course of his first\nyear of attendance at the medical school.\n\nI am not saying this without full practical justification for the\nstatement. For the last eighteen years we have had in England a system\nof elementary science teaching carried out under the auspices of the\nScience and Art Department, by which elementary scientific instruction\nis made readily accessible to the scholars of all the elementary\nschools in the country. Commencing with small beginnings, carefully\ndeveloped and improved, that system now brings up for examination as\nmany as seven thousand scholars in the subject of human physiology\nalone. I can say that, out of that number, a large proportion have\nacquired a fair amount of substantial knowledge; and that no\ninconsiderable percentage show as good an acquaintance with human\nphysiology as used to be exhibited by the average candidates for\nmedical degrees in the University of London, when I was first an\nexaminer there twenty years ago; and quite as much knowledge as is\npossessed by the ordinary student of medicine at the present day. I am\njustified, therefore, in looking forward to the time when the student\nwho proposes to devote himself to medicine will come, not absolutely\nraw and inexperienced as he is at present, but in a certain state of\npreparation for further study; and I look to the university to help him\nstill further forward in that stage of preparation, through the\norganisation of its biological department. Here the student will find\nmeans of acquainting himself with the phenomena of life in their\nbroadest acceptation. He will study not botany and zoology, which, as I\nhave said, would take him too far away from his ultimate goal; but, by\nduly arranged instruction, combined with work in the laboratory upon\nthe leading types of animal and vegetable life, he will lay a broad,\nand at the same time solid, foundation of biological knowledge; he will\ncome to his medical studies with a comprehension of the great truths of\nmorphology and of physiology, with his hands trained to dissect and his\neyes taught to see. I have no hesitation in saying that such\npreparation is worth a full year added on to the medical curriculum. In\nother words, it will set free that much time for attention to those\nstudies which bear directly upon the student's most grave and serious\nduties as a medical practitioner.\n\nUp to this point I have considered only the teaching aspect of your\ngreat foundation, that function of the university in virtue of which it\nplays the part of a reservoir of ascertained truth, so far as our\nsymbols can ever interpret nature. All can learn; all can drink of this\nlake. It is given to few to add to the store of knowledge, to strike\nnew springs of thought, or to shape new forms of beauty. But so sure as\nit is that men live not by bread, but by ideas, so sure is it that the\nfuture of the world lies in the hands of those who are able to carry\nthe interpretation of nature a step further than their predecessors; so\ncertain is it that the highest function of a university is to seek out\nthose men, cherish them, and give their ability to serve their kind\nfull play.\n\nI rejoice to observe that the encouragement of research occupies so\nprominent a place in your official documents, and in the wise and\nliberal inaugural address of your president. This subject of the\nencouragement, or, as it is sometimes called, the endowment of\nresearch, has of late years greatly exercised the minds of men in\nEngland. It was one of the main topics of discussion by the members of\nthe Royal Commission of whom I was one, and who not long since issued\ntheir report, after five years' labour. Many seem to think that this\nquestion is mainly one of money; that you can go into the market and\nbuy research, and that supply will follow demand, as in the ordinary\ncourse of commerce. This view does not commend itself to my mind. I\nknow of no more difficult practical problem than the discovery of a\nmethod of encouraging and supporting the original investigator without\nopening the door to nepotism and jobbery. My own conviction is\nadmirably summed up in the passage of your president's address, \"that\nthe best investigators are usually those who have also the\nresponsibilities of instruction, gaining thus the incitement of\ncolleagues, the encouragement of pupils, and the observation of the\npublic.\"\n\nAt the commencement of this address I ventured to assume that I might,\nif I thought fit, criticise the arrangements which have been made by\nthe board of trustees, but I confess that I have little to do but to\napplaud them. Most wise and sagacious seems to me the determination not\nto build for the present. It has been my fate to see great educational\nfunds fossilise into mere bricks and mortar, in the petrifying springs\nof architecture, with nothing left to work the institution they were\nintended to support. A great warrior is said to have made a desert and\ncalled it peace. Administrators of educational funds have sometimes\nmade a palace and called it a university. If I may venture to give\nadvice in a matter which lies out of my proper competency, I would say\nthat whenever you do build, get an honest bricklayer, and make him\nbuild you just such rooms as you really want, leaving ample space for\nexpansion. And a century hence, when the Baltimore and Ohio shares are\nat one thousand premium, and you have endowed all the professors you\nneed, and built all the laboratories that are wanted, and have the best\nmuseum and the finest library that can be imagined; then, if you have a\nfew hundred thousand dollars you don't know what to do with, send for\nan architect and tell him to put up a fa\u00e7ade. If American is similar to\nEnglish experience, any other course will probably lead you into having\nsome stately structure, good for your architect's fame, but not in the\nleast what you want.\n\nIt appears to me that what I have ventured to lay down as the\nprinciples which should govern the relations of a university to\neducation in general, are entirely in accordance with the measures you\nhave adopted. You have set no restrictions upon access to the\ninstruction you propose to give; you have provided that such\ninstruction, either as given by the university or by associated\ninstitutions, should cover the field of human intellectual activity.\nYou have recognised the importance of encouraging research. You propose\nto provide means by which young men, who may be full of zeal for a\nliterary or for a scientific career, but who also may have mistaken\naspiration for inspiration, may bring their capacities to a test, and\ngive their powers a fair trial. If such a one fail, his endowment\nterminates, and there is no harm done. If he succeed, you may give\npower of flight to the genius of a Davy or a Faraday, a Carlyle or a\nLocke, whose influence on the future of his fellow-men shall be\nabsolutely incalculable.\n\nYou have enunciated the principle that \"the glory of the university\nshould rest upon the character of the teachers and scholars, and not\nupon their numbers or buildings constructed for their use.\" And I look\nupon it as an essential and most important feature of your plan that\nthe income of the professors and teachers shall be independent of the\nnumber of students whom they can attract. In this way you provide\nagainst the danger, patent elsewhere, of finding attempts at\nimprovement obstructed by vested interests; and, in the department of\nmedical education especially, you are free of the temptation to set\nloose upon the world men utterly incompetent to perform the serious and\nresponsible duties of their profession.\n\nIt is a delicate matter for a stranger to the practical working of your\ninstitutions, like myself, to pretend to give an opinion as to the\norganisation of your governing power. I can conceive nothing better\nthan that it should remain as it is, if you can secure a succession of\nwise, liberal, honest, and conscientious men to fill the vacancies that\noccur among you. I do not greatly believe in the efficacy of any kind\nof machinery for securing such a result; but I would venture to suggest\nthat the exclusive adoption of the method of co-optation for filling\nthe vacancies which must occur in your body, appears to me to be\nsomewhat like a tempting of Providence. Doubtless there are grave\npractical objections to the appointment of persons outside of your body\nand not directly interested in the welfare of the university; but might\nit not be well if there were an understanding that your academic staff\nshould be officially represented on the board, perhaps even the heads\nof one or two independent learned bodies, so that academic opinion and\nthe views of the outside world might have a certain influence in that\nmost important matter, the appointment of your professors? I throw out\nthese suggestions, as I have said, in ignorance of the practical\ndifficulties that may lie in the way of carrying them into effect, on\nthe general ground that personal and local influences are very subtle,\nand often unconscious, while the future greatness and efficiency of the\nnoble institution which now commences its work must largely depend upon\nits freedom from them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI constantly hear Americans speak of the charm which our old mother\ncountry has for them, of the delight with which they wander through the\nstreets of ancient towns, or climb the battlements of mediaeval\nstrongholds, the names of which are indissolubly associated with the\ngreat epochs of that noble literature which is our common inheritance;\nor with the blood-stained steps of that secular progress, by which the\ndescendants of the savage Britons and of the wild pirates of the North\nSea have become converted into warriors of order and champions of\npeaceful freedom, exhausting what still remains of the old Berserk\nspirit in subduing nature, and turning the wilderness into a garden.\nBut anticipation has no less charm than retrospect, and to an\nEnglishman landing upon your shores for the first time, travelling for\nhundreds of miles through strings of great and well-ordered cities,\nseeing your enormous actual, and almost infinite potential, wealth in\nall commodities, and in the energy and ability which turn wealth to\naccount, there is something sublime in the vista of the future. Do not\nsuppose that I am pandering to what is commonly understood by national\npride. I cannot say that I am in the slightest degree impressed by your\nbigness, or your material resources, as such. Size is not grandeur, and\nterritory does not make a nation. The great issue, about which hangs a\ntrue sublimity, and the terror of overhanging fate, is what are you\ngoing to do with all these things? What is to be the end to which these\nare to be the means? You are making a novel experiment in politics on\nthe greatest scale which the world has yet seen. Forty millions at\nyour first centenary, it is reasonably to be expected that, at the\nsecond, these states will be occupied by two hundred millions of\nEnglish-speaking people, spread over an area as large as that of\nEurope, and with climates and interests as diverse as those of Spain\nand Scandinavia, England and Russia. You and your descendants have to\nascertain whether this great mass will hold together under the forms of\na republic, and the despotic reality of universal suffrage; whether\nstate rights will hold out against centralisation, without separation;\nwhether centralisation will get the better, without actual or disguised\nmonarchy; whether shifting corruption is better than a permanent\nbureaucracy; and as population thickens in your great cities, and the\npressure of want is felt, the gaunt spectre of pauperism will stalk\namong you, and communism and socialism will claim to be heard. Truly\nAmerica has a great future before her; great in toil, in care, and in\nresponsibility; great in true glory if she be guided in wisdom and\nrighteousness; great in shame if she fail. I cannot understand why\nother nations should envy you, or be blind to the fact that it is for\nthe highest interest of mankind that you should succeed; but the one\ncondition of success, your sole safeguard, is the moral worth and\nintellectual clearness of the individual citizen. Education cannot give\nthese, but it may cherish them and bring them to the front in whatever\nstation of society they are to be found; and the universities ought to\nbe, and may be, the fortresses of the higher life of the nation.\n\nMay the university which commences its practical activity to-morrow\nabundantly fulfil its high purpose; may its renown as a seat of true\nlearning, a centre of free inquiry, a focus of intellectual light,\nincrease year by year, until men wander hither from all parts of the\nearth, as of old they sought Bologna, or Paris, or Oxford.\n\nAnd it is pleasant to me to fancy that, among the English students who\nare drawn to you at that time, there may linger a dim tradition that\na countryman of theirs was permitted to address you as he has done\nto-day, and to feel as if your hopes were his hopes and your success\nhis joy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] Delivered at the formal opening of the Johns Hopkins University at\nBaltimore, U.S., September 12. The total amount bequeathed by Johns\nHopkins is more than 7,000,000 dollars. The sum of 3,500,000 dollars is\nappropriated to a university, a like sum to a hospital, and the rest to\nlocal institutions of education and charity.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\nON THE STUDY OF BIOLOGY\n\n[1876]\n\n\nIt is my duty to-night to speak about the study of Biology, and while\nit may be that there are many of my audience who are quite familiar\nwith that study, yet as a lecturer of some standing, it would, I know\nby experience, be very bad policy on my part to suppose such to be\nextensively the case. On the contrary, I must imagine that there are\nmany of you who would like to know what Biology is; that there are\nothers who have that amount of information, but would nevertheless\ngladly hear why it should be worth their while to study Biology; and\nyet others, again, to whom these two points are clear, but who desire\nto learn how they had best study it, and, finally, when they had best\nstudy it.\n\nI shall, therefore, address myself to the endeavour to give you some\nanswer to these four questions--what Biology is; why it should be\nstudied; how it should be studied; and when it should be studied.\n\nIn the first place, in respect to what Biology is, there are, I\nbelieve, some persons who imagine that the term \"Biology\" is simply a\nnew-fangled denomination, a neologism in short, for what used to be\nknown under the title of \"Natural History;\" but I shall try to show\nyou, on the contrary, that the word is the expression of the growth of\nscience during the last 200 years, and came into existence half a\ncentury ago.\n\nAt the revival of learning, knowledge was divided into two kinds--the\nknowledge of nature and the knowledge of man; for it was the current\nidea then (and a great deal of that ancient conception still remains)\nthat there was a sort of essential antithesis, not to say antagonism,\nbetween nature and man; and that the two had not very much to do with\none another, except that the one was oftentimes exceedingly troublesome\nto the other. Though it is one of the salient merits of our great\nphilosophers of the seventeenth century, that they recognised but one\nscientific method, applicable alike to man and to nature, we find this\nnotion of the existence of a broad distinction between nature and man\nin the writings both of Bacon and of Hobbes of Malmesbury; and I have\nbrought with me that famous work which is now so little known, greatly\nas it deserves to be studied, \"The Leviathan,\" in order that I may put\nto you in the wonderfully terse and clear language of Thomas Hobbes,\nwhat was his view of the matter. He says:--\n\n\"The register of knowledge of fact is called history. Whereof there be\ntwo sorts, one called natural history; which is the history of such\nfacts or effects of nature as have no dependence on man's will; such as\nare the histories of metals, plants, animals, regions, and the like.\nThe other is civil history; which is the history of the voluntary\nactions of men in commonwealths.\"\n\nSo that all history of fact was divided into these two great groups of\nnatural and of civil history. The Royal Society was in course of\nfoundation about the time that Hobbes was writing this book, which was\npublished in 1651; and that Society was termed a \"Society for the\nImprovement of Natural Knowledge,\" which was then nearly the same thing\nas a \"Society for the Improvement of Natural History.\" As time went on,\nand the various branches of human knowledge became more distinctly\ndeveloped and separated from one another, it was found that some were\nmuch more susceptible of precise mathematical treatment than others.\nThe publication of the \"Principia\" of Newton, which probably gave a\ngreater stimulus to physical science than any work ever published\nbefore, or which is likely to be published hereafter, showed that\nprecise mathematical methods were applicable to those branches of\nscience such as astronomy, and what we now call physics, which occupy a\nvery large portion of the domain of what the older writers understood\nby natural history. And inasmuch as the partly deductive and partly\nexperimental methods of treatment to which Newton and others subjected\nthese branches of human knowledge, showed that the phenomena of nature\nwhich belonged to them were susceptible of explanation, and thereby\ncame within the reach of what was called \"philosophy\" in those days; so\nmuch of this kind of knowledge as was not included under astronomy came\nto be spoken of as \"natural philosophy\"--a term which Bacon had\nemployed in a much wider sense. Time went on, and yet other branches of\nscience developed themselves. Chemistry took a definite shape; and\nsince all these sciences, such as astronomy, natural philosophy, and\nchemistry, were susceptible either of mathematical treatment or of\nexperimental treatment, or of both, a broad distinction was drawn\nbetween the experimental branches of what had previously been called\nnatural history and the observational branches--those in which\nexperiment was (or appeared to be) of doubtful use, and where, at that\ntime, mathematical methods were inapplicable. Under these circumstances\nthe old name of \"Natural History\" stuck by the residuum, by those\nphenomena which were not, at that time, susceptible of mathematical or\nexperimental treatment; that is to say, those phenomena of nature which\ncome now under the general heads of physical geography, geology,\nmineralogy, the history of plants, and the history of animals. It was\nin this sense that the term was understood by the great writers of the\nmiddle of the last century--Buffon and Linnaeus--by Buffon in his great\nwork, the \"Histoire Naturelle G\u00e9n\u00e9rale,\" and by Linnaeus in his\nsplendid achievement, the \"Systema Naturae.\" The subjects they deal\nwith are spoken of as \"Natural History,\" and they called themselves and\nwere called \"Naturalists.\" But you will observe that this was not the\noriginal meaning of these terms; but that they had, by this time,\nacquired a signification widely different from that which they\npossessed primitively.\n\nThe sense in which \"Natural History\" was used at the time I am now\nspeaking of has, to a certain extent, endured to the present day. There\nare now in existence in some of our northern universities, chairs of\n\"Civil and Natural History,\" in which \"Natural History\" is used to\nindicate exactly what Hobbes and Bacon meant by that term. The unhappy\nincumbent of the chair of Natural History is, or was, supposed to cover\nthe whole ground of geology, mineralogy, and zoology, perhaps even\nbotany, in his lectures.\n\nBut as science made the marvellous progress which it did make at the\nlatter end of the last and the beginning of the present century,\nthinking men began to discern that under this title of \"Natural\nHistory\" there were included very heterogeneous constituents--that, for\nexample, geology and mineralogy were, in many respects, widely\ndifferent from botany and zoology; that a man might obtain an extensive\nknowledge of the structure and functions of plants and animals, without\nhaving need to enter upon the study of geology or mineralogy, and\n_vice vers\u00e2_; and, further as knowledge advanced, it became clear\nthat there was a great analogy, a very close alliance, between those\ntwo sciences, of botany and zoology which deal with human beings, while\nthey are much more widely separated from all other studies. It is due\nto Buffon to remark that he clearly recognised this great fact. He\nsays: \"Ces deux genres d'\u00eatres organis\u00e9s [les animaux et les v\u00e9g\u00e9taux]\nont beaucoup plus de propri\u00e9t\u00e9s communes que de diff\u00e9rences r\u00e9elles.\"\nTherefore, it is not wonderful that, at the beginning of the present\ncentury, in two different countries, and so far as I know, without any\nintercommunication, two famous men clearly conceived the notion of\nuniting the sciences which deal with living matter into one whole, and\nof dealing with them as one discipline. In fact, I may say there were\nthree men to whom this idea occurred contemporaneously, although there\nwere but two who carried it into effect, and only one who worked it out\ncompletely. The persons to whom I refer were the eminent physiologist\nBichat, and the great naturalist Lamarck, in France; and a\ndistinguished German, Treviranus. Bichat [1] assumed the existence of a\nspecial group of \"physiological\" sciences. Lamarck, in a work published\nin 1801, [2] for the first time made use of the name \"Biologie,\" from\nthe two Greek words which signify a discourse upon life and living\nthings. About the same time, it occurred to Treviranus, that all those\nsciences which deal with living matter are essentially and\nfundamentally one, and ought to be treated as a whole; and, in the year\n1802, he published the first volume of what he also called \"Biologie.\"\nTreviranus's great merit lies in this, that he worked out his idea, and\nwrote the very remarkable book to which I refer. It consists of six\nvolumes, and occupied its author for twenty years--from 1802 to 1822.\n\nThat is the origin of the term \"Biology\"; and that is how it has come\nabout that all clear thinkers and lovers of consistent nomenclature\nhave substituted for the old confusing name of \"Natural History,\" which\nhas conveyed so many meanings, the term \"Biology\" which denotes the\nwhole of the sciences which deal with living things, whether they be\nanimals or whether they be plants. Some little time ago--in the course\nof this year, I think--I was favoured by a learned classic, Dr. Field\nof Norwich, with a disquisition, in which he endeavourved to prove\nthat, from a philological point of view, neither Treviranus nor Lamarck\nhad any right to coin this new word \"Biology\" for their purpose; that,\nin fact, the Greek word \"Bios\" had relation only to human life and\nhuman affairs, and that a different word was employed by the Greeks\nwhen they wished to speak of the life of animals and plants. So Dr.\nField tells us we are all wrong in using the term biology, and that we\nought to employ another; only he is not sure about the propriety of\nthat which he proposes as a substitute. It is a somewhat hard\none--\"zootocology.\" I am sorry we are wrong, because we are likely to\ncontinue so. In these matters we must have some sort of \"Statute of\nLimitations.\" When a name has been employed for half a century, persons\nof authority [3] have been using it, and its sense has become well\nunderstood, I am afraid people will go on using it, whatever the weight\nof philological objection.\n\nNow that we have arrived at the origin of this word \"Biology,\" the next\npoint to consider is: What ground does it cover? I have said that in\nits strict technical sense, it denotes all the phenomena which are\nexhibited by living things, as distinguished from those which are not\nliving; but while that is all very well, so long as we confine\nourselves to the lower animals and to plants, it lands us in\nconsiderable difficulties when we reach the higher forms of living\nthings. For whatever view we may entertain about the nature of man, one\nthing is perfectly certain, that he is a living creature. Hence, if our\ndefinition is to be interpreted strictly, we must include man and all\nhis ways and works under the head of Biology; in which case, we should\nfind that psychology, politics, and political economy would be absorbed\ninto the province of Biology. In fact, civil history would be merged in\nnatural history. In strict logic it may be hard to object to this\ncourse, because no one can doubt that the rudiments and outlines of our\nown mental phenomena are traceable among the lower animals. They have\ntheir economy and their polity, and if, as is always admitted, the\npolity of bees and the commonwealth of wolves fall within the purview\nof the biologist proper, it becomes hard to say why we should not\ninclude therein human affairs, which, in so many cases, resemble those\nof the bees in zealous getting, and are not without a certain parity in\nthe proceedings of the wolves. The real fact is that we biologists are\na self-sacrificing people; and inasmuch as, on a moderate estimate,\nthere are about a quarter of a million different species of animals and\nplants to know about already, we feel that we have more than sufficient\nterritory. There has been a sort of practical convention by which we\ngive up to a different branch of science what Bacon and Hobbes would\nhave called \"Civil History.\" That branch of science has constituted\nitself under the head of Sociology. I may use phraseology which, at\npresent, will be well understood and say that we have allowed that\nprovince of Biology to become autonomous; but I should like you to\nrecollect that that is a sacrifice, and that you should not be\nsurprised if it occasionally happens that you see a biologist\napparently trespassing in the region of philosophy or politics; or\nmeddling with human education; because, after all, that is a part of\nhis kingdom which he has only voluntarily forsaken.\n\nHaving now defined the meaning of the word Biology, and having\nindicated the general scope of Biological Science, I turn to my second\nquestion, which is--Why should we study Biology? Possibly the time may\ncome when that will seem a very odd question. That we, living\ncreatures, should not feel a certain amount of interest in what it is\nthat constitutes our life will eventually, under altered ideas of the\nfittest objects of human inquiry, appear to be a singular phenomenon;\nbut at present, judging by the practice of teachers and educators,\nBiology would seem to be a topic that does not concern us at all. I\npropose to put before you a few considerations with which I dare say\nmany will be familiar already, but which will suffice to show--not\nfully, because to demonstrate this point fully would take a great many\nlectures--that there are some very good and substantial reasons why it\nmay be advisable that we should know something about this branch of\nhuman learning.\n\nI myself entirely agree with another sentiment of the philosopher of\nMalmesbury, \"that the scope of all speculation is the performance of\nsome action or thing to be done,\" and I have not any very great respect\nfor, or interest in, mere knowing as such. I judge of the value of\nhuman pursuits by their bearing upon human interests; in other words,\nby their utility; but I should like that we should quite clearly\nunderstand what it is that we mean by this word \"utility.\" In an\nEnglishman's mouth it generally means that by which we get pudding or\npraise, or both. I have no doubt that is one meaning of the word\nutility, but it by no means includes all I mean by utility. I think\nthat knowledge of every kind is useful in proportion as it tends to\ngive people right ideas, which are essential to the foundation of right\npractice, and to remove wrong ideas, which are the no less essential\nfoundations and fertile mothers of every description of error in\npractice. And inasmuch as, whatever practical people may say, this\nworld is, after all, absolutely governed by ideas, and very often by\nthe wildest and most hypothetical ideas, it is a matter of the very\ngreatest importance that our theories of things, and even of things\nthat seem a long way apart from our daily lives, should be as far as\npossible true, and as far as possible removed from error. It is not\nonly in the coarser, practical sense of the word \"utility,\" but in this\nhigher and broader sense, that I measure the value of the study of\nbiology by its utility; and I shall try to point out to you that you\nwill feel the need of some knowledge of biology at a great many turns\nof this present nineteenth century life of ours. For example, most of\nus attach great importance to the conception which we entertain of the\nposition of man in this universe and his relation to the rest of\nnature. We have almost all been told, and most of us hold by the\ntradition, that man occupies an isolated and peculiar position in\nnature; that though he is in the world he is not of the world; that his\nrelations to things about him are of a remote character; that his\norigin is recent, his duration likely to be short, and that he is the\ngreat central figure round which other things in this world revolve.\nBut this is not what the biologist tells us.\n\nAt the present moment you will be kind enough to separate me from them,\nbecause it is in no way essential to my present argument that I should\nadvocate their views. Don't suppose that I am saying this for the\npurpose of escaping the responsibility of their beliefs; indeed, at\nother times and in other places, I do not think that point has been\nleft doubtful; but I want clearly to point out to you that for my\npresent argument they may all be wrong; and, nevertheless, my argument\nwill hold good. The biologists tell us that all this is an entire\nmistake. They turn to the physical organisation of man. They examine\nhis whole structure, his bony frame and all that clothes it. They\nresolve him into the finest particles into which the microscope will\nenable them to break him up. They consider the performance of his\nvarious functions and activities, and they look at the manner in which\nhe occurs on the surface of the world. Then they turn to other animals,\nand taking the first handy domestic animal--say a dog--they profess to\nbe able to demonstrate that the analysis of the dog leads them, in\ngross, to precisely the same results as the analysis of the man; that\nthey find almost identically the same bones, having the same relations;\nthat they can name the muscles of the dog by the names of the muscles\nof the man, and the nerves of the dog by those of the nerves of the\nman, and that, such structures and organs of sense as we find in the\nman such also we find in the dog; they analyse the brain and spinal\ncord and they find that the nomenclature which fits, the one answers\nfor the other. They carry their microscopic inquiries in the case of\nthe dog as far as they can, and they find that his body is resolvable\ninto the same elements as those of the man. Moreover, they trace back\nthe dog's and the man's development, and they find that, at a certain\nstage of their existence, the two creatures are not distinguishable the\none from the other; they find that the dog and his kind have a certain\ndistribution over the surface of the world, comparable in its way to\nthe distribution of the human species. What is true of the dog they\ntell us is true of all the higher animals; and they assert that they\ncan lay down a common plan for the whole of these creatures, and regard\nthe man and the dog, the horse and the ox as minor modifications of one\ngreat fundamental unity. Moreover, the investigations of the last\nthree-quarters of a century have proved, they tell us, that similar\ninquiries, carried out through all the different kinds of animals which\nare met with in nature, will lead us, not in one straight series, but\nby many roads, step by step, gradation by gradation, from man, at the\nsummit, to specks of animated jelly at the bottom of the series. So\nthat the idea of Leibnitz, and of Bonnet, that animals form a great\nscale of being, in which there are a series of gradations from the most\ncomplicated form to the lowest and simplest; that idea, though not\nexactly in the form in which it was propounded by those philosophers,\nturns out to be substantially correct. More than this, when biologists\npursue their investigations into the vegetable world, they find that\nthey can, in the same way, follow out the structure of the plant, from\nthe most gigantic and complicated trees down through a similar series\nof gradations, until they arrive at specks of animated jelly, which\nthey are puzzled to distinguish from those specks which they reached by\nthe animal road.\n\nThus, biologists have arrived at the conclusion that a fundamental\nuniformity of structure pervades the animal and vegetable worlds, and\nthat plants and animals differ from one another simply as diverse\nmodifications of the same great general plan.\n\nAgain, they tell us the same story in regard to the study of function.\nThey admit the large and important interval which, at the present time,\nseparates the manifestations of the mental faculties observable in the\nhigher forms of mankind, and even in the lower forms, such as we know\nthem, from those exhibited by other animals; but, at the same time,\nthey tell us that the foundations, or rudiments, of almost all the\nfaculties of man are to be met with in the lower animals; that there is\na unity of mental faculty as well as of bodily structure, and that,\nhere also, the difference is a difference of degree and not of kind. I\nsaid \"almost all,\" for a reason. Among the many distinctions which have\nbeen drawn between the lower creatures and ourselves, there is one\nwhich is hardly ever insisted on, [4] but which may be very fitly\nspoken of in a place so largely devoted to Art as that in which we are\nassembled. It is this, that while, among various kinds of animals, it\nis possible to discover traces of all the other faculties of man,\nespecially the faculty of mimicry, yet that particular form of mimicry\nwhich shows itself in the imitation of form, either by modelling or by\ndrawing, is not to be met with. As far as I know, there is no sculpture\nor modelling, and decidedly no painting or drawing, of animal origin. I\nmention the fact, in order that such comfort may be derived therefrom\nas artists may feel inclined to take.\n\nIf what the biologists tell us is true, it will be needful to get rid\nof our erroneous conceptions of man, and of his place in nature, and to\nsubstitute right ones for them. But it is impossible to form any\njudgment as to whether the biologists are right or wrong, unless we are\nable to appreciate the nature of the arguments which they have to\noffer.\n\nOne would almost think this to be a self-evident proposition. I wonder\nwhat a scholar would say to the man who should undertake to criticise a\ndifficult passage in a Greek play, but who obviously had not acquainted\nhimself with the rudiments of Greek grammar. And yet, before giving\npositive opinions about these high questions of Biology, people not\nonly do not seem to think it necessary to be acquainted with the\ngrammar of the subject, but they have not even mastered the alphabet.\nYou find criticism and denunciation showered about by persons who not\nonly have not attempted to go through the discipline necessary to\nenable them to be judges, but who have not even reached that stage of\nemergence from ignorance in which the knowledge that such a discipline\nis necessary dawns upon the mind. I have had to watch with some\nattention--in fact I have been favoured with a good deal of it\nmyself--the sort of criticism with which biologists and biological\nteachings are visited. I am told every now and then that there is a\n\"brilliant article\" [5] in so-and-so, in which we are all demolished. I\nused to read these things once, but I am getting old now, and I have\nceased to attend very much to this cry of \"wolf.\" When one does read\nany of these productions, what one finds generally, on the face of it\nis, that the brilliant critic is devoid of even the elements of\nbiological knowledge, and that his brilliancy is like the light given\nout by the crackling of thorns under a pot of which Solomon speaks. So\nfar as I recollect, Solomon makes use of the image for purposes of\ncomparison; but I will not proceed further into that matter.\n\nTwo things must be obvious: in the first place, that every man who has\nthe interests of truth at heart must earnestly desire that every\nwell-founded and just criticism that can be made should be made; but\nthat, in the second place, it is essential to anybody's being able to\nbenefit by criticism, that the critic should know what he is talking\nabout, and be in a position to form a mental image of the facts\nsymbolised by the words he uses. If not, it is as obvious in the case\nof a biological argument, as it is in that of a historical or\nphilological discussion, that such criticism is a mere waste of time on\nthe part of its author, and wholly undeserving of attention on the part\nof those who are criticised. Take it then as an illustration of the\nimportance of biological study, that thereby alone are men able to form\nsomething like a rational conception of what constitutes valuable\ncriticism of the teachings of biologists. [6]\n\nNext, I may mention another bearing of biological knowledge--a more\npractical one in the ordinary sense of the word. Consider the theory of\ninfectious disease. Surely that is of interest to all of us. Now the\ntheory of infectious disease is rapidly being elucidated by biological\nstudy. It is possible to produce, from among the lower animals,\nexamples of devastating diseases which spread in the same manner as our\ninfectious disorders, and which are certainly and unmistakably caused\nby living organisms. This fact renders it possible, at any rate, that\nthat doctrine of the causation of infectious disease which is known\nunder the name of \"the germ theory\" may be well-founded; and, if so, it\nmust needs lead to the most important practical measures in dealing\nwith those terrible visitations. It may be well that the general, as\nwell as the professional, public should have a sufficient knowledge of\nbiological truths to be able to take a rational interest in the\ndiscussion of such problems, and to see, what I think they may hope to\nsee, that, to those who possess a sufficient elementary knowledge of\nBiology, they are not all quite open questions.\n\nLet me mention another important practical illustration of the value of\nbiological study. Within the last forty years the theory of agriculture\nhas been revolutionised. The researches of Liebig, and those of our own\nLawes and Gilbert, have had a bearing upon that branch of industry the\nimportance of which cannot be over-estimated; but the whole of these\nnew views have grown out of the better explanation of certain processes\nwhich go on in plants; and which, of course, form a part of the\nsubject-matter of Biology.\n\nI might go on multiplying these examples, but I see that the clock\nwon't wait for me, and I must therefore pass to the third question to\nwhich I referred:--Granted that Biology is something worth studying,\nwhat is the best way of studying it? Here I must point out that, since\nBiology is a physical science, the method of studying it must needs be\nanalogous to that which is followed in the other physical sciences. It\nhas now long been recognised that, if a man wishes to be a chemist, it\nis not only necessary that he should read chemical books and attend\nchemical lectures, but that he should actually perform the fundamental\nexperiments in the laboratory for himself, and thus learn exactly what\nthe words which he finds in his books and hears from his teachers,\nmean. If he does not do so, he may read till the crack of doom, but he\nwill never know much about chemistry. That is what every chemist will\ntell you, and the physicist will do the same for his branch of science.\nThe great changes and improvements in physical and chemical scientific\neducation, which have taken place of late, have all resulted from the\ncombination of practical teaching with the reading of books and with\nthe hearing of lectures. The same thing is true in Biology. Nobody\nwill ever know anything about Biology except in a dilettante\n\"paper-philosopher\" way, who contents himself with reading books on\nbotany, zoology, and the like; and the reason of this is simple and\neasy to understand. It is that all language is merely symbolical of the\nthings of which it treats; the more complicated the things, the more\nbare is the symbol, and the more its verbal definition requires to be\nsupplemented by the information derived directly from the handling, and\nthe seeing, and the touching of the thing symbolised:--that is really\nwhat is at the bottom of the whole matter. It is plain common sense, as\nall truth, in the long run, is only common sense clarified. If you want\na man to be a tea merchant, you don't tell him to read books about\nChina or about tea, but you put him into a tea-merchant's office where\nhe has the handling, the smelling, and the tasting of tea. Without the\nsort of knowledge which can be gained only in this practical way, his\nexploits as a tea merchant will soon come to a bankrupt termination.\nThe \"paper-philosophers\" are under the delusion that physical science\ncan be mastered as literary accomplishments are acquired, but\nunfortunately it is not so. You may read any quantity of books, and you\nmay be almost as ignorant as you were at starting, if you don't have,\nat the back of your minds, the change for words in definite images\nwhich can only be acquired through the operation of your observing\nfaculties on the phenomena of nature.\n\nIt may be said:--\"That is all very well, but you told us just now that\nthere are probably something like a quarter of a million different\nkinds of living and extinct animals and plants, and a human life could\nnot suffice for the examination of one-fiftieth part of all these.\"\nThat is true, but then comes the great convenience of the way things\nare arranged; which is, that although there are these immense numbers\nof different kinds of living things in existence, yet they are built\nup, after all, upon marvellously few plans.\n\nThere are certainly more than 100,000 species of insects, and yet\nanybody who knows one insect--if a properly chosen one--will be able\nto have a very fair conception of the structure of the whole. I do not\nmean to say he will know that structure thoroughly, or as well as it is\ndesirable he should know it; but he will have enough real knowledge to\nenable him to understand what he reads, to have genuine images in his\nmind of those structures which become so variously modified in all the\nforms of insects he has not seen. In fact, there are such things as\ntypes of form among animals and vegetables, and for the purpose of\ngetting a definite knowledge of what constitutes the leading\nmodifications of animal and plant life, it is not needful to examine\nmore than a comparatively small number of animals and plants.\n\nLet me tell you what we do in the biological laboratory which is lodged\nin a building adjacent to this. There I lecture to a class of students\ndaily for about four-and-a-half months, and my class have, of course,\ntheir text-books; but the essential part of the whole teaching, and\nthat which I regard as really the most important part of it, is a\nlaboratory for practical work, which is simply a room with all the\nappliances needed for ordinary dissection. We have tables properly\narranged in regard to light, microscopes, and dissecting instruments,\nand we work through the structure of a certain number of animals and\nplants. As, for example, among the plants, we take a yeast plant, a\n_Protococcus_, a common mould, a _Chara_, a fern, and some\nflowering plant; among animals we examine such things as an _Amoeba_,\n_a Vorticella_, and a fresh-water polype. We dissect a star-fish,\nan earth-worm, a snail, a squid, and a fresh-water mussel. We\nexamine a lobster and a cray-fish, and a black beetle. We go on to a\ncommon skate, a cod-fish, a frog, a tortoise, a pigeon, and a rabbit,\nand that takes us about all the time we have to give.  The purpose of\nthis course is not to make skilled dissectors, but to give every\nstudent a clear and definite conception, by means of sense-images, of\nthe characteristic structure of each of the leading modifications of\nthe animal kingdom; and that is perfectly possible, by going no further\nthan the length of that list of forms which I have enumerated. If a man\nknows the structure of the animals I have mentioned, he has a clear and\nexact, however limited, apprehension of the essential features of the\norganisation of all those great divisions of the animal and vegetable\nkingdoms to which the forms I have mentioned severally belong. And it\nthen becomes possible for him to read with profit; because every time\nhe meets with the name of a structure, he has a definite image in his\nmind of what the name means in the particular creature he is reading\nabout, and therefore the reading is not mere reading. It is not mere\nrepetition of words; but every term employed in the description, we\nwill say, of a horse, or of an elephant, will call up the image of the\nthings he had seen in the rabbit, and he is able to form a distinct\nconception of that which he has not seen, as a modification of that\nwhich he has seen.\n\nI find this system to yield excellent results; and I have no hesitation\nwhatever in saying, that any one who has gone through such a course,\nattentively, is in a better position to form a conception of the great\ntruths of Biology, especially of morphology (which is what we chiefly\ndeal with), than if he had merely read all the books on that topic put\ntogether.\n\nThe connection of this discourse with the Loan Collection of Scientific\nApparatus arises out of the exhibition in that collection of certain\naids to our laboratory work.  Such of you as have visited that very\ninteresting collection may have noticed a series of diagrams and of\npreparations illustrating the structure of a frog. Those diagrams and\npreparations have been made for the use of the students in the\nbiological laboratory. Similar diagrams and preparations illustrating\nthe structure of all the other forms of life we examine, are either\nmade or in course of preparation. Thus the student has before him,\nfirst, a picture of the structure he ought to see; secondly, the\nstructure itself worked out; and if with these aids, and such needful\nexplanations and practical hints as a demonstrator can supply, he\ncannot make out the facts for himself in the materials supplied to him,\nhe had better take to some other pursuit than that of biological\nscience.\n\nI should have been glad to have said a few words about the use of\nmuseums in the study of Biology, but I see that my time is becoming\nshort, and I have yet another question to answer. Nevertheless, I must,\nat the risk of wearying you, say a word or two upon the important\nsubject of museums. Without doubt there are no helps to the study of\nBiology, or rather to some branches of it, which are, or may be, more\nimportant than natural history museums; but, in order to take this\nplace in regard to Biology, they must be museums of the future. The\nmuseums of the present do not, by any means, do so much for us as they\nmight do. I do not wish to particularise, but I dare say many of you,\nseeking knowledge, or in the laudable desire to employ a holiday\nusefully, have visited some great natural history museum. You have\nwalked through a quarter of a mile of animals, more or less well\nstuffed, with their long names written out underneath them; and, unless\nyour experience is very different from that of most people, the upshot\nof it all is that you leave that splendid pile with sore feet, a bad\nheadache, and a general idea that the animal kingdom is a \"mighty maze\nwithout a plan.\" I do not think that a museum which brings about this\nresult does all that may be reasonably expected from such an\ninstitution. What is needed in a collection of natural history is that\nit should be made as accessible and as useful as possible, on the one\nhand to the general public, and on the other to scientific workers.\nThat need is not met by constructing a sort of happy hunting-ground of\nmiles of glass cases; and, under the pretence of exhibiting everything\nputting the maximum amount of obstacle in the way of those who wish\nproperly to see anything.\n\nWhat the public want is easy and unhindered access to such a collection\nas they can understand and appreciate; and what the men of science want\nis similar access to the materials of science. To this end the\nvast mass of objects of natural history should be divided into two\nparts--one open to the public, the other to men of science, every day.\nThe former division should exemplify all the more important and\ninteresting forms of life. Explanatory tablets should be attached to\nthem, and catalogues containing clearly-written popular expositions of\nthe general significance of the objects exhibited should be provided.\nThe latter should contain, packed into a comparatively small space, in\nrooms adapted for working purposes, the objects of purely scientific\ninterest. For example, we will say I am an ornithologist. I go to\nexamine a collection of birds. It is a positive nuisance to have them\nstuffed. It is not only sheer waste, but I have to reckon with the\nideas of the bird-stuffer, while, if I have the skin and nobody has\ninterfered with it, I can form my own judgment as to what the bird was\nlike. For ornithological purposes, what is needed is not glass cases\nfull of stuffed birds on perches, but convenient drawers into each of\nwhich a great quantity of skins will go. They occupy no great space and\ndo not require any expenditure beyond their original cost. But for the\nedification of the public, who want to learn indeed, but do not seek\nfor minute and technical knowledge, the case is different. What one of\nthe general public walking into a collection of birds desires to see is\nnot all the birds that can be got together. He does not want to compare\na hundred species of the sparrow tribe side by side; but he wishes to\nknow what a bird is, and what are the great modifications of bird\nstructure, and to be able to get at that knowledge easily. What will\nbest serve his purpose is a comparatively small number of birds\ncarefully selected, and artistically, as well as accurately, set up;\nwith their different ages, their nests, their young, their eggs, and\ntheir skeletons side by side; and in accordance with the admirable plan\nwhich is pursued in this museum, a tablet, telling the spectator\nin legible characters what they are and what they mean. For the\ninstruction and recreation of the public such a typical collection\nwould be of far greater value than any many-acred imitation of Noah's\nark.\n\nLastly comes the question as to when biological study may best be\npursued. I do not see any valid reason why it should not be made, to\na certain extent, a part of ordinary school training. I have long\nadvocated this view, and I am perfectly certain that it can be carried\nout with ease, and not only with ease, but with very considerable\nprofit to those who are taught; but then such instruction must be\nadapted to the minds and needs of the scholars. They used to have a\nvery odd way of teaching the classical languages when I was a boy. The\nfirst task set you was to learn the rules of the Latin grammar in the\nLatin language--that being the language you were going to learn! I\nthought then that this was an odd way of learning a language, but\ndid not venture to rebel against the judgment of my superiors. Now,\nperhaps, I am not so modest as I was then, and I allow myself to think\nthat it was a very absurd fashion. But it would be no less absurd, if\nwe were to set about teaching Biology by putting into the hands of\nboys a series of definitions of the classes and orders of the animal\nkingdom, and making them repeat them by heart. That is so very\nfavourite a method of teaching, that I sometimes fancy the spirit of\nthe old classical system has entered into the new scientific system, in\nwhich case I would much rather that any pretence at scientific teaching\nwere abolished altogether. What really has to be done is to get into\nthe young mind some notion of what animal and vegetable life is. In\nthis matter, you have to consider practical convenience as well as\nother things. There are difficulties in the way of a lot of boys making\nmesses with slugs and snails; it might not work in practice. But there\nis a very convenient and handy animal which everybody has at hand, and\nthat is himself; and it is a very easy and simple matter to obtain\ncommon plants. Hence the general truths of anatomy and physiology can\nbe taught to young people in a very real fashion by dealing with the\nbroad facts of human structure. Such viscera as they cannot very well\nexamine in themselves, such as hearts, lungs, and livers, may be\nobtained from the nearest butcher's shop. In respect to teaching\nsomething about the biology of plants, there is no practical\ndifficulty, because almost any of the common plants will do, and plants\ndo not make a mess--at least they do not make an unpleasant mess; so\nthat, in my judgment, the best form of Biology for teaching to very\nyoung people is elementary human physiology on the one hand, and the\nelements of botany on the other; beyond that I do not think it will be\nfeasible to advance for some time to come. But then I see no reason,\nwhy, in secondary schools, and in the Science Classes which are under\nthe control of the Science and Art Department--and which I may say, in\npassing, have in my judgment, done so very much for the diffusion of a\nknowledge of science over the country--we should not hope to see\ninstruction in the elements of Biology carried out, not perhaps to the\nsame extent, but still upon somewhat the same principle as here. There\nis no difficulty, when you have to deal with students of the ages of\nfifteen or sixteen, in practising a little dissection and in getting a\nnotion of, at any rate, the four or five great modifications of the\nanimal form; and the like is true in regard to the higher anatomy of\nplants.\n\nWhile, lastly, to all those who are studying biological science with\na view to their own edification merely, or with the intention of\nbecoming zoologists or botanists; to all those who intend to pursue\nphysiology--and especially to those who propose to employ the working\nyears of their lives in the practice of medicine--I say that there is\nno training so fitted, or which may be of such important service to\nthem, as the discipline in practical biological work which I have\nsketched out as being pursued in the laboratory hard by.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI may add that, beyond all these different classes of persons who may\nprofit by the study of Biology, there is yet one other. I remember, a\nnumber of years ago, that a gentleman who was a vehement opponent of\nMr. Darwin's views and had written some terrible articles against them,\napplied to me to know what was the best way in which he could acquaint\nhimself with the strongest arguments in favour of evolution. I wrote\nback, in all good faith and simplicity, recommending him to go through\na course of comparative anatomy and physiology, and then to study\ndevelopment. I am sorry to say he was very much displeased, as people\noften are with good advice. Notwithstanding this discouraging result, I\nventure, as a parting word, to repeat the suggestion, and to say to all\nthe more or less acute lay and clerical \"paper-philosophers\" [7] who\nventure into the regions of biological controversy--Get a little sound,\nthorough, practical, elementary instruction in biology.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] See the distinction between the \"sciences physiques\" and the\n\"sciences physiologiques\" in the _Anatomie G\u00e9n\u00e9rale_, 1801.\n\n[2] _Hydrog\u00e9ologie_, an. x. (1801).\n\n[3] \"The term _Biology_, which means exactly what we wish to\nexpress, _the Science of Life_, has often been used, and has of\nlate become not uncommon, among good writers.\"--Whewell, _Philosophy\nof the Inductive Sciences_, vol. i. p. 544 (edition of 1847).\n\n[4] I think that my friend, Professor Allman, was the first to draw\nattention to it.\n\n[5] Galileo was troubled by a sort of people whom he called \"paper\nphilosophers,\" because they fancied that the true reading of nature was\nto be detected by the collation of texts. The race is not extinct, but,\nas of old, brings forth its \"winds of doctrine\" by which the\nweathercock heads among us are much exercised.\n\n[6] Some critics do not even take the trouble to read. I have recently\nbeen adjured with much solemnity; to state publicly why I have \"changed\nmy opinion\" as to the value of the palaeontological evidence of the\noccurrence of evolution.\n\nTo this my reply is, Why should I, when that statement was made seven\nyears ago? An address delivered from the Presidential Chair of the\nGeological Society, in 1870, may be said to be a public document,\ninasmuch as it not only appeared in the _Journal_ of that learned\nbody, but was re-published, in 1873, in a volume of _Critiques and\nAddresses_, to which my name is attached. Therein will be found a\npretty full statement of my reasons for enunciating two propositions:\n(1) that \"when we turn to the higher _Vertebrata_, the results of\nrecent investigations, however we may sift and criticise them, seem to\nme to leave a clear balance in favour of the evolution of living forms\none from another;\" and (2) that the case of the horse is one which\n\"will stand rigorous criticism.\" Thus I do not see clearly in what way\nI can be said to have changed my opinion, except in the way of\nintensifying it, when in consequence of the accumulation of similar\nevidence since 1870, I recently spoke of the denial of evolution as not\nworth serious consideration.\n\n[7] Writers of this stamp are fond of talking about the Baconian\nmethod. I beg them therefore to lay to heart these two weighty sayings\nof the herald of Modern Science:--\n\n\"Syllogismus ex propositionibus constat, propositiones ex verbis, verba\nnotionum tesserae sunt. Itaque si notiones ipsae (_id quod basis rei\nest_) confusae sint et temere a rebus abstractae, nihil in iis quae\nsuperstruuntur est firmitudinis.\"--_Novum Organon_, ii. 14.\n\n\"Huic autem vanitati nonnulli ex modernis summa levitate ita\nindulserunt, ut in primo capitulo Geneseos et in libro Job et aliis\nscripturis sacris, philosophiam naturalem fundare conati sint; _inter\nvivos quaerentes mortua_.\"--_Ibid_. 65.\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\nON ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN PHYSIOLOGY\n\n[1877]\n\n\nThe chief ground upon which I venture to recommend that the teaching of\nelementary physiology should form an essential part of any organised\ncourse of instruction in matters pertaining to domestic economy, is,\nthat a knowledge of even the elements of this subject supplies those\nconceptions of the constitution and mode of action of the living body,\nand of the nature of health and disease, which prepare the mind to\nreceive instruction from sanitary science.\n\nIt is, I think, eminently desirable that the hygienist and the\nphysician should find something in the public mind to which they can\nappeal; some little stock of universally acknowledged truths, which may\nserve as a foundation for their warnings, and predispose towards an\nintelligent obedience to their recommendations.\n\nListening to ordinary talk about health, disease, and death, one is\noften led to entertain a doubt whether the speakers believe that the\ncourse of natural causation runs as smoothly in the human body as\nelsewhere. Indications are too often obvious of a strong, though\nperhaps an unavowed and half unconscious, under-current of opinion that\nthe phenomena of life are not only widely different, in their\nsuperficial characters and in their practical importance, from other\nnatural events, but that they do not follow in that definite order\nwhich characterises the succession of all other occurrences, and the\nstatement of which we call a law of nature.\n\nHence, I think, arises the want of heartiness of belief in the value of\nknowledge respecting the laws of health and disease, and of the\nforesight and care to which knowledge is the essential preliminary,\nwhich is so often noticeable; and a corresponding laxity and\ncarelessness in practice, the results of which are too frequently\nlamentable.\n\nIt is said that among the many religious sects of Russia, there is one\nwhich holds that all disease is brought about by the direct and special\ninterference of the Deity, and which, therefore, looks with repugnance\nupon both preventive and curative measures as alike blasphemous\ninterferences with the will of God. Among ourselves, the \"Peculiar\nPeople\" are, I believe, the only persons who hold the like doctrine in\nits integrity, and carry it out with logical rigour. But many of us are\nold enough to recollect that the administration of chloroform in\nassuagement of the pangs of child-birth was, at its introduction,\nstrenuously resisted upon similar grounds.\n\nI am not sure that the feeling, of which the doctrine to which I have\nreferred is the full expression, does not lie at the bottom of the\nminds of a great many people who yet would vigorously object to give a\nverbal assent to the doctrine itself. However this may be, the main\npoint is that sufficient knowledge has now been acquired of vital\nphenomena, to justify the assertion, that the notion, that there is\nanything exceptional about these phenomena, receives not a particle of\nsupport from any known fact. On the contrary, there is a vast and an\nincreasing mass of evidence that birth and death, health and disease,\nare as much parts of the ordinary stream of events as the rising and\nsetting of the sun, or the changes of the moon; and that the living\nbody is a mechanism, the proper working of which we term health; its\ndisturbance, disease; its stoppage, death. The activity of this\nmechanism is dependent upon many and complicated conditions, some of\nwhich are hopelessly beyond our control, while others are readily\naccessible, and are capable of being indefinitely modified by our own\nactions. The business of the hygienist and of the physician is to know\nthe range of these modifiable conditions, and how to influence them\ntowards the maintenance of health and the prolongation of life; the\nbusiness of the general public is to give an intelligent assent, and a\nready obedience based upon that assent, to the rules laid down for\ntheir guidance by such experts. But an intelligent assent is an assent\nbased upon knowledge, and the knowledge which is here in question means\nan acquaintance with the elements of physiology.\n\nIt is not difficult to acquire such knowledge. What is true, to\na certain extent, of all the physical sciences, is eminently\ncharacteristic of physiology--the difficulty of the subject begins\nbeyond the stage of elementary knowledge, and increases with every\nstage of progress. While the most highly trained and the best furnished\nintellect may find all its resources insufficient, when it strives to\nreach the heights and penetrate into the depths of the problems of\nphysiology, the elementary and fundamental truths can be made clear to\na child.\n\nNo one can have any difficulty in comprehending the mechanism of\ncirculation or respiration; or the general mode of operation of the\norgan of vision; though the unravelling of all the minutiae of these\nprocesses, may, for the present, baffle the conjoined attacks of the\nmost accomplished physicists, chemists, and mathematicians. To know the\nanatomy of the human body, with even an approximation to thoroughness,\nis the work of a life; but as much as is needed for a sound\ncomprehension of elementary physiological truths, may be learned in a\nweek.\n\nA knowledge of the elements of physiology is not only easy of\nacquirement, but it may be made a real and practical acquaintance with\nthe facts, as far as it goes. The subject of study is always at hand,\nin one's self. The principal constituents of the skeleton, and the\nchanges of form of contracting muscles, may be felt through one's own\nskin. The beating of one's heart, and its connection with the pulse,\nmay be noted; the influence of the valves of one's own veins may be\nshown; the movements of respiration may be observed; while the\nwonderful phenomena of sensation afford an endless field for curious\nand interesting self-study. The prick of a needle will yield, in a drop\nof one's own blood, material for microscopic observation of phenomena\nwhich lie at the foundation of all biological conceptions; and a cold,\nwith its concomitant coughing and sneezing, may prove the sweet uses of\nadversity by helping one to a clear conception of what is meant by\n\"reflex action.\"\n\nOf course there is a limit to this physiological self-examination. But\nthere is so close a solidarity between ourselves and our poor relations\nof the animal world, that our inaccessible inward parts may be\nsupplemented by theirs. A comparative anatomist knows that a sheep's\nheart and lungs, or eye, must not be confounded with those of a man;\nbut, so far as the comprehension of the elementary facts of the\nphysiology of circulation, of respiration, and of vision goes, the one\nfurnishes the needful anatomical data as well as the other.\n\nThus, it is quite possible to give instruction in elementary physiology\nin such a manner as, not only to confer knowledge, which, for the\nreason I have mentioned, is useful in itself; but to serve the purposes\nof a training in accurate observation, and in the methods of reasoning\nof physical science. But that is an advantage which I mention only\nincidentally, as the present Conference does not deal with education in\nthe ordinary sense of the word.\n\nIt will not be suspected that I wish to make physiologists of all the\nworld. It would be as reasonable to accuse an advocate of the \"three\nR's\" of a desire to make an orator, an author, and a mathematician of\neverybody. A stumbling reader, a pot-hook writer, and an arithmetician\nwho has not got beyond the rule of three, is not a person of brilliant\nacquirements; but the difference between such a member of society and\none who can neither read, write, nor cipher is almost inexpressible;\nand no one nowadays doubts the value of instruction, even if it goes no\nfarther.\n\nThe saying that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing is, to my mind,\na very dangerous adage. If knowledge is real and genuine, I do not\nbelieve that it is other than a very valuable possession, however\ninfinitesimal its quantity may be. Indeed, if a little knowledge is\ndangerous, where is the man who has so much as to be out of danger?\n\nIf William Harvey's life-long labours had revealed to him a tenth part\nof that which may be made sound and real knowledge to our boys and\ngirls, he would not only have been what he was, the greatest\nphysiologist of his age, but he would have loomed upon the seventeenth\ncentury as a sort of intellectual portent. Our \"little knowledge\" would\nhave been to him a great, astounding, unlooked-for vision of scientific\ntruth.\n\nI really see no harm which can come of giving our children a little\nknowledge of physiology. But then, as I have said, the instruction must\nbe real, based upon observation, eked out by good explanatory diagrams\nand models, and conveyed by a teacher whose own knowledge has been\nacquired by a study of the facts; and not the mere catechismal\nparrot-work which too often usurps the place of elementary teaching.\n\nIt is, I hope, unnecessary for me to give a formal contradiction to the\nsilly fiction, which is assiduously circulated by fanatics who not only\nought to know, but do know, that their assertions are untrue, that I\nhave advocated the introduction of that experimental discipline which\nis absolutely indispensable to the professed physiologist, into\nelementary teaching.\n\nBut while I should object to any experimentation which can justly be\ncalled painful, for the purpose of elementary instruction; and, while,\nas a member of a late Royal Commission, I gladly did my best to prevent\nthe infliction of needless pain, for any purpose; I think it is my duty\nto take this opportunity of expressing my regret at a condition of the\nlaw which permits a boy to troll for pike, or set lines with live frog\nbait, for idle amusement; and, at the same time, lays the teacher of\nthat boy open to the penalty of fine and imprisonment, if he uses the\nsame animal for the purpose of exhibiting one of the most beautiful and\ninstructive of physiological spectacles, the circulation in the web of\nthe foot. No one could undertake to affirm that a frog is not\ninconvenienced by being wrapped up in a wet rag, and having his toes\ntied out; and it cannot be denied that inconvenience is a sort of pain.\nBut you must not inflict the least pain on a vertebrated animal for\nscientific purposes (though you may do a good deal in that way for gain\nor for sport) without due licence of the Secretary of State for the\nHome Department, granted under the authority of the Vivisection Act.\n\nSo it comes about, that, in this present year of grace 1877, two\npersons may be charged with cruelty to animals. One has impaled a frog,\nand suffered the creature to writhe about in that condition for hours;\nthe other has pained the animal no more than one of us would be pained\nby tying strings round his fingers, and keeping him in the position of\na hydropathic patient. The first offender says \"I did it because I find\nfishing very amusing,\" and the magistrate bids him depart in peace;\nnay, probably wishes him good sport. The second pleads, \"I wanted to\nimpress a scientific truth, with a distinctness attainable in no other\nway, on the minds of my scholars,\" and the magistrate fines him five\npounds.\n\nI cannot but think that this is an anomalous and not wholly creditable\nstate of things.\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\nON MEDICAL EDUCATION\n\n[1870]\n\n\nIt has given me sincere pleasure to be here today, at the desire of\nyour highly respected President and the Council of the College. In\nlooking back upon my own past, I am sorry to say that I have found that\nit is a quarter of a century since I took part in those hopes and in\nthose fears by which you have all recently been agitated, and which now\nare at an end. But, although so long a time has elapsed since I was\nmoved by the same feelings, I beg leave to assure you that my sympathy\nwith both victors and vanquished remains fresh--so fresh, indeed, that\nI could almost try to persuade myself that, after all, it cannot be so\nvery long ago. My business during the last hour, however, has been to\nshow that sympathy with one side only, and I assure you I have done my\nbest to play my part heartily, and to rejoice in the success of those\nwho have succeeded. Still, I should like to remind you at the end of it\nall, that success on an occasion of this kind, valuable and important\nas it is, is in reality only putting the foot upon one rung of the\nladder which leads upwards; and that the rung of a ladder was never\nmeant to rest upon, but only to hold a man's foot long enough to enable\nhim to put the other somewhat higher. I trust that you will all regard\nthese successes as simply reminders that your next business is, having\nenjoyed the success of the day, no longer to look at that success, but\nto look forward to the next difficulty that is to be conquered. And\nnow, having had so much to say to the successful candidates, you must\nforgive me if I add that a sort of under-current of sympathy has been\ngoing on in my mind all the time for those who have not been\nsuccessful, for those valiant knights who have been overthrown in your\ntourney, and have not made their appearance in public. I trust that, in\naccordance with old custom, they, wounded and bleeding, have been\ncarried off to their tents, to be carefully tended by the fairest of\nmaidens; and in these days, when the chances are that every one of such\nmaidens will be a qualified practitioner, I have no doubt that all the\nsplinters will have been carefully extracted, and that they are now\nphysically healed. But there may remain some little fragment of moral\nor intellectual discouragement, and therefore I will take the liberty\nto remark that your chairman to-day, if he occupied his proper place,\nwould be among them. Your chairman, in virtue of his position, and for\nthe brief hour that he occupies that position, is a person of\nimportance; and it may be some consolation to those who have failed if\nI say, that the quarter of a century which I have been speaking of,\ntakes me back to the time when I was up at the University of London, a\ncandidate for honours in anatomy and physiology, and when I was\nexceedingly well beaten by my excellent friend, Dr. Ransom, of\nNottingham. There is a person here who recollects that circumstance\nvery well. I refer to your venerated teacher and mine, Dr. Sharpey. He\nwas at that time one of the examiners in anatomy and physiology, and\nyou may be quite sure that, as he was one of the examiners, there\nremained not the smallest doubt in my mind of the propriety of his\njudgment, and I accepted my defeat with the most comfortable assurance\nthat I had thoroughly well earned it. But, gentlemen, the competitor\nhaving been a worthy one, and the examination a fair one, I cannot say\nthat I found in that circumstance anything very discouraging. I said to\nmyself, \"Never mind; what's the next thing to be done?\" And I found\nthat policy of \"never minding\" and going on to the next thing to be\ndone, to be the most important of all policies in the conduct of\npractical life. It does not matter how many tumbles you have in this\nlife, so long as you do not get dirty when you tumble; it is only the\npeople who have to stop to be washed and made clean, who must\nnecessarily lose the race. And I can assure you that there is the\ngreatest practical benefit in making a few failures early in life. You\nlearn that which is of inestimable importance--that there are a great\nmany people in the world who are just as clever as you are. You learn\nto put your trust, by and by, in an economy and frugality of the\nexercise of your powers, both moral and intellectual; and you very soon\nfind out, if you have not found it out before, that patience and\ntenacity of purpose are worth more than twice their weight of\ncleverness. In fact, if I were to go on discoursing on this subject, I\nshould become almost eloquent in praise of non-success; but, lest so\ndoing should seem, in any way, to wither well-earned laurels, I\nwill turn from that topic, and ask you to accompany me in some\nconsiderations touching another subject which has a very profound\ninterest for me, and which I think ought to have an equally profound\ninterest for you.\n\nI presume that the great majority of those whom I address propose to\ndevote themselves to the profession of medicine; and I do not doubt,\nfrom the evidences of ability which have been given to-day, that I have\nbefore me a number of men who will rise to eminence in that profession,\nand who will exert a great and deserved influence upon its future. That\nin which I am interested, and about which I wish to speak, is the\nsubject of medical education, and I venture to speak about it for the\npurpose, if I can, of influencing you, who may have the power of\ninfluencing the medical education of the future. You may ask, by what\nauthority do I venture, being a person not concerned in the practice of\nmedicine, to meddle with that subject? I can only tell you it is a\nfact, of which a number of you I dare say are aware by experience (and\nI trust the experience has no painful associations), that I have been\nfor a considerable number of years (twelve or thirteen years to the\nbest of my recollection) one of the examiners in the University of\nLondon. You are further aware that the men who come up to the\nUniversity of London are the picked men of the medical schools of\nLondon, and therefore such observations as I may have to make upon the\nstate of knowledge of these gentlemen, if they be justified, in regard\nto any faults I may have to find, cannot be held to indicate defects in\nthe capacity, or in the power of application of those gentlemen, but\nmust be laid, more or less, to the account of the prevalent system of\nmedical education. I will tell you what has struck me--but in speaking\nin this frank way, as one always does about the defects of one's\nfriends, I must beg you to disabuse your minds of the notion that I am\nalluding to any particular school, or to any particular college, or to\nany particular person; and to believe that if I am silent when I should\nbe glad to speak with high praise, it is because that praise would come\ntoo close to this locality. What has struck me, then, in this long\nexperience of the men best instructed in physiology from the medical\nschools of London is (with the many and brilliant exceptions to which I\nhave referred), taking it as a whole, and broadly, the singular\nunreality of their knowledge of physiology. Now, I use that word\n\"unreality\" advisedly. I do not say \"scanty;\" on the contrary, there is\nplenty of it--a great deal too much of it--but it is the quality, the\nnature of the knowledge, which I quarrel with. I know I used to have--I\ndon't know whether I have now, but I had once upon a time--a bad\nreputation among students for setting up a very high standard of\nacquirement, and I dare say you may think that the standard of this old\nexaminer, who happily is now very nearly an extinct examiner, has been\npitched too high. Nothing of the kind, I assure you. The defects I have\nnoticed, and the faults I have to find, arise entirely from the\ncircumstance that my standard is pitched too low. This is no paradox,\ngentlemen, but quite simply the fact. The knowledge I have looked for\nwas a real, precise, thorough, and practical knowledge of fundamentals;\nwhereas that which the best of the candidates, in a large proportion of\ncases, have had to give me was a large, extensive, and inaccurate\nknowledge of superstructure; and that is what I mean by saying that my\ndemands went too low and not too high. What I have had to complain of\nis, that a large proportion of the gentlemen who come up for physiology\nto the University of London do not know it as they know their anatomy,\nand have not been taught it as they have been taught their anatomy.\nNow, I should not wonder at all if I heard a great many \"No, noes\"\nhere; but I am not talking about University College; as I have told you\nbefore, I am talking about the average education of medical schools.\nWhat I have found, and found so much reason to lament, is, that while\nanatomy has been taught as a science ought to be taught, as a matter of\nautopsy, and observation, and strict discipline; in a very large number\nof cases, physiology has been taught as if it were a mere matter of\nbooks and of hearsay. I declare to you, gentlemen, that I have often\nexpected to be told, when I have asked a question about the circulation\nof the blood, that Professor Breitkopf is of opinion that it\ncirculates, but that the whole thing is an open question. I assure you\nthat I am hardly exaggerating the state of mind on matters of\nfundamental importance which I have found over and over again to obtain\namong gentlemen coming up to that picked examination of the University\nof London. Now, I do not think that is a desirable state of things. I\ncannot understand why physiology should not be taught--in fact, you\nhave here abundant evidence that it can be taught--with the same\ndefiniteness and the same precision as anatomy is taught. And you may\ndepend upon this, that the only physiology which is to be of any good\nwhatever in medical practice, or in its application to the study of\nmedicine, is that physiology which a man knows of his own knowledge;\njust as the only anatomy which would be of any good to the surgeon is\nthe anatomy which he knows of his own knowledge. Another peculiarity I\nhave found in the physiology which has been current, and that is, that\nin the minds of a great many gentlemen it has been supplanted by\nhistology. They have learnt a great deal of histology, and they have\nfancied that histology and physiology are the same things. I have asked\nfor some knowledge of the physics and the mechanics and the chemistry\nof the human body, and I have been met by talk about cells. I declare\nto you I believe it will take me two years, at least, of absolute rest\nfrom the business of an examiner to hear the word \"cell,\" \"germinal\nmatter,\" or \"carmine,\" without a sort of inward shudder.\n\nWell, now, gentlemen, I am sure my colleagues in this examination will\nbear me out in saying that I have not been exaggerating the evils and\ndefects which are current--have been current--in a large quantity of\nthe physiological teaching the results of which come before examiners.\nAnd it becomes a very interesting question to know how all this comes\nabout, and in what way it can be remedied. How it comes about will be\nperfectly obvious to any one who has considered the growth of medicine.\nI suppose that medicine and surgery first began by some savage more\nintelligent than the rest, discovering that a certain herb was good for\na certain pain, and that a certain pull, somehow or other, set a\ndislocated joint right. I suppose all things had their humble\nbeginnings, and medicine and surgery were in the same condition. People\nwho wear watches know nothing about watchmaking. A watch goes wrong and\nit stops; you see the owner giving it a shake, or, if he is very bold,\nhe opens the case, and gives the balance-wheel a push. Gentlemen, that\nis empirical practice, and you know what are the results upon the\nwatch. I should think you can divine what are the results of analogous\noperations upon the human body. And because men of sense very soon\nfound that such were the effects of meddling with very complicated\nmachinery they did not understand, I suppose the first thing, as being\nthe easiest, was to study the nature of the works of the human watch,\nand the next thing was to study the way the parts worked together, and\nthe way the watch worked. Thus, by degrees, we have had growing up our\nbody of anatomists, or knowers of the construction of the human watch,\nand our physiologists, who know how the machine works. And just as any\nsensible man, who has a valuable watch, does not meddle with it\nhimself, but goes to some one who has studied watchmaking, and\nunderstands what the effect of doing this or that may be; so, I\nsuppose, the man who, having charge of that valuable machine, his own\nbody, wants to have it kept in good order, comes to a professor of the\nmedical art for the purpose of having it set right, believing that, by\ndeduction from the facts of structure and from the facts of function,\nthe physician will divine what may be the matter with his bodily watch\nat that particular time, and what may be the best means of setting it\nright. If that may be taken as a just representation of the relation of\nthe theoretical branches of medicine--what we may call the institutes\nof medicine, to use an old term--to the practical branches, I think it\nwill be obvious to you that they are of prime and fundamental\nimportance. Whatever tends to affect the teaching of them injuriously\nmust tend to destroy and to disorganise the whole fabric of the medical\nart. I think every sensible man has seen this long ago; but the\ndifficulties in the way of attaining good teaching in the different\nbranches of the theory, or institutes, of medicine are very serious. It\nis a comparatively easy matter--pray mark that I use the word\n\"comparatively \"--it is a comparatively easy matter to learn anatomy\nand to teach it; it is a very difficult matter to learn physiology and\nto teach it. It is a very difficult matter to know and to teach those\nbranches of physics and those branches of chemistry which bear directly\nupon physiology; and hence it is that, as a matter of fact, the\nteaching of physiology, and the teaching of the physics and the\nchemistry which bear upon it, must necessarily be in a state of\nrelative imperfection; and there is nothing to be grumbled at in the\nfact that this relative imperfection exists. But is the relative\nimperfection which exists only such as is necessary, or is it made\nworse by our practical arrangements? I believe--and if I did not so\nbelieve I should not have troubled you with these observations--I\nbelieve it is made infinitely worse by our practical arrangements, or\nrather, I ought to say, our very unpractical arrangements. Some very\nwise man long ago affirmed that every question, in the long run, was a\nquestion of finance; and there is a good deal to be said for that view.\nMost assuredly the question of medical teaching is, in a very large and\nbroad sense, a question of finance. What I mean is this: that in London\nthe arrangements of the medical schools, and the number of them, are\nsuch as to render it almost impossible that men who confine themselves\nto the teaching of the theoretical branches of the profession should be\nable to make their bread by that operation; and, you know, if a man\ncannot make his bread he cannot teach--at least his teaching comes to a\nspeedy end. That is a matter of physiology. Anatomy is fairly well\ntaught, because it lies in the direction of practice, and a man is all\nthe better surgeon for being a good anatomist. It does not absolutely\ninterfere with the pursuits of a practical surgeon if he should hold a\nChair of Anatomy--though I do not for one moment say that he would not\nbe a better teacher if he did not devote himself to practice.\n(Applause.) Yes, I know exactly what that cheer means, but I am keeping\nas carefully as possible from any sort of allusion to Professor Ellis.\nBut the fact is, that even human anatomy has now grown to be so large a\nmatter, that it takes the whole devotion of a man's life to put the\ngreat mass of knowledge upon that subject into such a shape that it can\nbe teachable to the mind of the ordinary student. What the student\nwants in a professor is a man who shall stand between him and the\ninfinite diversity and variety of human knowledge, and who shall gather\nall that together, and extract from it that which is capable of being\nassimilated by the mind. That function is a vast and an important one,\nand unless, in such subjects as anatomy, a man is wholly free from\nother cares, it is almost impossible that he can perform it thoroughly\nand well. But if it be hardly possible for a man to pursue anatomy\nwithout actually breaking with his profession, how is it possible for\nhim to pursue physiology?\n\nI get every year those very elaborate reports of Henle and\nMeissner--volumes of, I suppose, 400 pages altogether--and they consist\nmerely of abstracts of the memoirs and works which have been written on\nAnatomy and Physiology--only abstracts of them! How is a man to keep up\nhis acquaintance with all that is doing in the physiological world--in\na world advancing with enormous strides every day and every hour--if he\nhas to be distracted with the cares of practice? You know very well it\nmust be impracticable to do so. Our men of ability join our medical\nschools with an eye to the future. They take the Chairs of Anatomy or\nof Physiology; and by and by they leave those Chairs for the more\nprofitable pursuits into which they have drifted by professional\nsuccess, and so they become clothed, and physiology is bare. The result\nis, that in those schools in which physiology is thus left to the\nbenevolence, so to speak, of those who have no time to look to it, the\neffect of such teaching comes out obviously, and is made manifest in\nwhat I spoke of just now--the unreality, the bookishness of the\nknowledge of the taught. And if this is the case in physiology, still\nmore must it be the case in those branches of physics which are the\nfoundation of physiology; although it may be less the case in\nchemistry, because for an able chemist a certain honourable and\nindependent career lies in the direction of his work, and he is able,\nlike the anatomist, to look upon what he may teach to the student as\nnot absolutely taking him away from his bread-winning pursuits.\n\nBut it is of no use to grumble about this state of things unless one is\nprepared to indicate some sort of practical remedy. And I believe--and\nI venture to make the statement because I am wholly independent of all\nsorts of medical schools, and may, therefore, say what I believe\nwithout being supposed to be affected by any personal interest--but I\nsay I believe that the remedy for this state of things, for that\nimperfection of our theoretical knowledge which keeps down the ability\nof England at the present time in medical matters, is a mere affair of\nmechanical arrangement; that so long as you have a dozen medical\nschools scattered about in different parts of the metropolis, and\ndividing the students among them, so long, in all the smaller schools\nat any rate, it is impossible that any other state of things than that\nwhich I have been depicting should obtain. Professors must live; to\nlive they must occupy themselves with practice, and if they occupy\nthemselves with practice, the pursuit of the abstract branches of\nscience must go to the wall. All this is a plain and obvious matter of\ncommon-sense reasoning. I believe you will never alter this state of\nthings until, either by consent or by _force majeure_--and I\nshould be very sorry to see the latter applied--but until there is some\nnew arrangement, and until all the theoretical branches of the\nprofession, the institutes of medicine, are taught in London in not\nmore than one or two, or at the outside three, central institutions, no\ngood will be effected. If that large body of men, the medical students\nof London, were obliged in the first place to get a knowledge of the\ntheoretical branches of their profession in two or three central\nschools, there would be abundant means for maintaining able\nprofessors--not, indeed, for enriching them, as they would be able to\nenrich themselves by practice--but for enabling them to make that\nchoice which such men are so willing to make; namely, the choice\nbetween wealth and a modest competency, when that modest competency is\nto be combined with a scientific career, and the means of advancing\nknowledge. I do not believe that all the talking about, and tinkering\nof, medical education will do the slightest good until the fact is\nclearly recognised, that men must be thoroughly grounded in the\ntheoretical branches of their profession, and that to this end the\nteaching of those theoretical branches must be confined to two or three\ncentres.\n\nNow let me add one other word, and that is, that if I were a despot, I\nwould cut down these branches to a very considerable extent. The next\nthing to be done beyond that which I mentioned just now, is to go back\nto primary education. The great step towards a thorough medical\neducation is to insist upon the teaching of the elements of the\nphysical sciences in all schools, so that medical students shall not go\nup to the medical colleges utterly ignorant of that with which they\nhave to deal; to insist on the elements of chemistry, the elements of\nbotany, and the elements of physics being taught in our ordinary and\ncommon schools, so that there shall be some preparation for the\ndiscipline of medical colleges. And, if this reform were once effected,\nyou might confine the \"Institutes of Medicine\" to physics as applied to\nphysiology--to chemistry as applied to physiology--to physiology\nitself, and to anatomy. Afterwards, the student, thoroughly grounded in\nthese matters, might go to any hospital he pleased for the purpose of\nstudying the practical branches of his profession. The practical\nteaching might be made as local as you like; and you might use to\nadvantage the opportunities afforded by all these local institutions\nfor acquiring a knowledge of the practice of the profession. But you\nmay say: \"This is abolishing a great deal; you are getting rid of\nbotany and zoology to begin with.\" I have not a doubt that they ought\nto be got rid of, as branches of special medical education; they ought\nto be put back to an earlier stage, and made branches of general\neducation. Let me say, by way of self-denying ordinance, for which you\nwill, I am sure, give me credit, that I believe that comparative\nanatomy ought to be absolutely abolished. I say so, not without a\ncertain fear of the Vice-Chancellor of the University of London who\nsits upon my left. But I do not think the charter gives him very much\npower over me; moreover, I shall soon come to an end of my\nexaminership, and therefore I am not afraid, but shall go on to say\nwhat I was going to say, and that is, that in my belief it is a\ndownright cruelty--I have no other word for it--to require from\ngentlemen who are engaged in medical studies, the pretence--for it is\nnothing else, and can be nothing else, than a pretence--of a knowledge\nof comparative anatomy as part of their medical curriculum. Make it\npart of their Arts teaching if you like, make it part of their general\neducation if you like, make it part of their qualification for the\nscientific degree by all means--that is its proper place; but to\nrequire that gentlemen whose whole faculties should be bent upon the\nacquirement of a real knowledge of human physiology should worry\nthemselves with getting up hearsay about the alternation of generations\nin the Salpae is really monstrous. I cannot characterise it in any\nother way. And having sacrificed my own pursuit, I am sure I may\nsacrifice other people's; and I make this remark with all the more\nwillingness because I discovered, on reading the names of your\nProfessors just now, that the Professor of Materia Medica is not\npresent. I must confess, if I had my way I should abolish Materia\nMedica [1] altogether. I recollect, when I was first under examination\nat the University of London, Dr. Pereira was the examiner, and you know\nthat Pereira's \"Materia Medica\" was a book _de omnibus rebus_. I\nrecollect my struggles with that book late at night and early in the\nmorning (I worked very hard in those days), and I do believe that I got\nthat book into my head somehow or other, but then I will undertake to\nsay that I forgot it all a week afterwards. Not one trace of a\nknowledge of drugs has remained in my memory from that time to this;\nand really, as a matter of common sense, I cannot understand the\narguments for obliging a medical man to know all about drugs and where\nthey come from. Why not make him belong to the Iron and Steel\nInstitute, and learn something about cutlery, because he uses knives?\n\nBut do not suppose that, after all these deductions, there would not be\nample room for your activity. Let us count up what we have left. I\nsuppose all the time for medical education that can be hoped for is, at\nthe outside, about four years. Well, what have you to master in those\nfour years upon my supposition? Physics applied to physiology;\nchemistry applied to physiology; physiology; anatomy; surgery; medicine\n(including therapeutics); obstetrics; hygiene; and medical\njurisprudence--nine subjects for four years! And when you consider what\nthose subjects are, and that the acquisition of anything beyond the\nrudiments of any one of them may tax the energies of a lifetime, I\nthink that even those energies which you young gentlemen have been\ndisplaying for the last hour or two might be taxed to keep you\nthoroughly up to what is wanted for your medical career.\n\nI entertain a very strong conviction that any one who adds to medical\neducation one iota or tittle beyond what is absolutely necessary, is\nguilty of a very grave offence. Gentlemen, it will depend upon the\nknowledge that you happen to possess,--upon your means of applying it\nwithin your own field of action,--whether the bills of mortality of\nyour district are increased or diminished; and that, gentlemen, is a\nvery serious consideration indeed. And, under those circumstances, the\nsubjects with which you have to deal being so difficult, their extent\nso enormous, and the time at your disposal so limited, I could not feel\nmy conscience easy if I did not, on such an occasion as this, raise a\nprotest against employing your energies upon the acquisition of any\nknowledge which may not be absolutely needed in your future career.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[1] It will, I hope, be understood that I do not include Therapeutics\nunder this head.\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\nTHE STATE AND THE MEDICAL PROFESSION\n\n[1884]\n\n\nAt intervals during the last quarter of a century committees of the\nHouses of the Legislature and specially appointed commissions have\noccupied themselves with the affairs of the medical profession. Much\nevidence has been taken, much wrangling has gone on over the reports of\nthese bodies; and sometimes much trouble has been taken to get measures\nbased upon all this work through Parliament, but very little has been\nachieved.\n\nThe Bill introduced last session was not more fortunate than several\npredecessors. I suppose that it is not right to rejoice in the\nmisfortunes of anything, even a Bill; but I confess that this event\nafforded me lively satisfaction, for I was a member of the Royal\nCommission on the report of which the Bill was founded, and I did my\nbest to oppose and nullify that report.\n\nThat the question must be taken up again and finally dealt with by the\nLegislature before long cannot be doubted; but in the meanwhile there\nis time for reflection, and I think that the non-medical public would\nbe wise if they paid a little attention to a subject which is really of\nconsiderable importance to them.\n\nThe first question which a plain man is disposed to ask himself is, Why\nshould the State interfere with the profession of medicine any more\nthan it does, say, with the profession of engineering? Anybody who\npleases may call himself an engineer, and may practice as such. The\nState confers no title upon engineers, and does not profess to tell the\npublic that one man is a qualified engineer and that another is not so.\n\nThe answers which are given to the question are various, and most of\nthem, I think, are bad. A large number of persons seem to be of opinion\nthat the State is bound no less to take care of the general public,\nthan to see that it is protected against incompetent persons, against\nquacks and medical impostors in general. I do not take that view of the\ncase. I think it is very much wholesomer for the public to take care of\nitself in this as in all other matters; and although I am not such a\nfanatic for the liberty of the subject as to plead that interfering\nwith the way in which a man may choose to be killed is a violation of\nthat liberty, yet I do think that it is far better to let everybody do\nas he likes. Whether that be so or not, I am perfectly certain that, as\na matter of practice, it is absolutely impossible to prohibit the\npractice of medicine by people who have no special qualification for\nit. Consider the terrible consequences of attempting to prohibit\npractice by a very large class of persons who are certainly not\ntechnically qualified--I am far from saying a word as to whether\nthey are otherwise qualified or not. The number of Ladies\nBountiful--grandmothers, aunts, and mothers-in-law--whose chief delight\nlies in the administration of their cherished provision of domestic\nmedicine, is past computation, and one shudders to think of what might\nhappen if their energies were turned from this innocuous, if not\nbeneficent channel, by the strong arm of the law. But the thing is\nimpracticable.\n\nAnother reason for intervention is propounded, I am sorry to say, by\nsome, though not many, members of the medical profession, and is simply\nan expression of that trades unionism which tends to infest professions\nno less than trades.\n\nThe general practitioner trying to make both ends meet on a poor\npractice, whose medical training has cost him a good deal of time and\nmoney, finds that many potential patients, whose small fees would be\nwelcome as the little that helps, prefer to go and get their shilling's\nworth of \"doctor's stuff\" and advice from the chemist and druggist\nround the corner, who has not paid sixpence for his medical training,\nbecause he has never had any.\n\nThe general practitioner thinks this is very hard upon him and ought to\nbe stopped. It is perhaps natural that he should think so, though it\nwould be very difficult for him to justify his opinion on any ground of\npublic policy. But the question is really not worth discussion, as it\nis obvious that it would be utterly impracticable to stop the practice\n\"over the counter\" even it it were desirable.\n\nIs a man who has a sudden attack of pain in tooth or stomach not to be\npermitted to go to the nearest druggist's shop and ask for something\nthat will relieve him? The notion is preposterous. But if this is to be\nlegal, the whole principle of the permissibility of counter practice is\ngranted.\n\nIn my judgment the intervention of the State in the affairs of the\nmedical profession can be justified not upon any pretence of protecting\nthe public, and still less upon that of protecting the medical\nprofession, but simply and solely upon the fact that the State employs\nmedical men for certain purposes, and, as employer, has a right to\ndefine the conditions on which it will accept service. It is for the\ninterest of the community that no person shall die without there being\nsome official recognition of the cause of his death. It is a matter of\nthe highest importance to the community that, in civil and criminal\ncases, the law shall be able to have recourse to persons whose evidence\nmay be taken as that of experts; and it will not be doubted that the\nState has a right to dictate the conditions under which it will appoint\npersons to the vast number of naval, military, and civil medical\noffices held directly or indirectly under the Government. Here, and\nhere only, it appears to me, lies the justification for the\nintervention of the State in medical affairs. It says, or, in my\njudgment, should say, to the public, \"Practice medicine if you like--go\nto be practised upon by anybody;\" and to the medical practitioner,\n\"Have a qualification, or do not have a qualification if people don't\nmind it; but if the State is to receive your certificate of death, if\nthe State is to take your evidence as that of an expert, if the State\nis to give you any kind of civil, or military, or naval appointment,\nthen we can call upon you to comply with our conditions, and to produce\nevidence that you are, in our sense of the word, qualified. Without\nthat we will not place you in that position.\" As a matter of fact, that\nis the relation of the State to the medical profession in this country.\nFor my part, I think it an extremely healthy relation; and it is one\nthat I should be very sorry to see altered, except in so far that it\nwould certainly be better if greater facilities were given for the\nswift and sharp punishment of those who profess to have the State\nqualification when, in point of fact, they do not possess it. They are\nsimply cheats and swindlers, like other people who profess to be what\nthey are not, and should be punished as such.\n\nBut supposing we are agreed about the justification of State\nintervention in medical affairs, new questions arise as to the manner\nin which that intervention should take place and the extent to which it\nshould go, on which the divergence of opinion is even greater than it\nis on the general question of intervention.\n\nIt is now, I am sorry to say, something over forty years since I began\nmy medical studies; and, at that time, the state of affairs was\nextremely singular. I should think it hardly possible that it could\nhave obtained anywhere but in such a country as England, which\ncherishes a fine old crusted abuse as much as it does its port wine. At\nthat time there were twenty-one licensing bodies--that is to say,\nbodies whose certificate was received by the State as evidence that the\npersons who possessed that certificate were medical experts. How these\nbodies came to possess these powers is a very curious chapter in\nhistory, in which it would be out of place to enlarge. They were partly\nuniversities, partly medical guilds and corporations, partly the\nArchbishop of Canterbury. Those were the three sources from which the\nlicence to practice came in that day. There was no central authority,\nthere was nothing to prevent any one of those licensing authorities\nfrom granting a licence to any one upon any conditions it thought fit.\nThe examination might be a sham, the curriculum might be a sham, the\ncertificate might be bought and sold like anything in a shop; or, on\nthe other hand, the examination might be fairly good and the diploma\ncorrespondingly valuable; but there was not the smallest guarantee,\nexcept the personal character of the people who composed the\nadministration of each of these licensing bodies, as to what might\nhappen. It was possible for a young man to come to London and to spend\ntwo years and six months of the time of his compulsory three years\n\"walking the hospitals\" in idleness or worse; he could then, by putting\nhimself in the hands of a judicious \"grinder\" for the remaining six\nmonths, pass triumphantly through the ordeal of one hour's _viv\u00e2 voce_\nexamination, which was all that was absolutely necessary, to\nenable him to be turned loose upon the public, like death on the pale\nhorse, \"conquering and to conquer,\" with the full sanction of the law,\nas a \"qualified practitioner.\"\n\nIt is difficult to imagine, at present, such a state of things, still\nmore difficult to depict the consequences of it, because they would\nappear like a gross and malignant caricature; but it may be said that\nthere was never a system, or want of system, which was better\ncalculated to ruin the students who came under it, or to degrade the\nprofession as a whole. My memory goes back to a time when models from\nwhom the Bob Sawyer of the _Pickwick Papers_ might have been drawn\nwere anything but rare.\n\nShortly before my student days, however, the dawn of a better state of\nthings in England began to be visible, in consequence of the\nestablishment of the University of London, and the comparatively very\nhigh standard which it placed before its medical graduates.\n\nI say comparatively high standard, for the requirements of the\nUniversity in those days, and even during the twelve years at a later\nperiod, when I was one of the examiners of the medical faculty, were\nsuch as would not now be thought more than respectable, and indeed were\nin many respects very imperfect. But, relatively to the means of\nlearning, the standard was high, and none but the more able and\nambitious of the students dreamed of passing the University.\nNevertheless, the fact that many men of this stamp did succeed in\nobtaining their degrees, led others to follow in their steps, and\nslowly but surely reacted upon the standard of teaching in the better\nmedical schools. Then came the Medical Act of 1858. That Act introduced\ntwo immense improvements: one of them was the institution of what is\ncalled the Medical Register, upon which the names of all persons\nrecognised by the State as medical practitioners are entered: and the\nother was the establishment of the Medical Council, which is a kind of\nMedical Parliament, composed of representatives of the licensing bodies\nand of leading men in the medical profession nominated by the Crown.\nThe powers given by the Legislature to the Medical Council were found\npractically to be very limited, but I think that no fair observer of\nthe work will doubt that this much attacked body has excited no small\ninfluence in bringing about the great change for the better, which has\nbeen effected in the training of men for the medical profession within\nmy recollection.\n\nAnother source of improvement must be recognised in the Scottish\nUniversities, and especially in the medical faculty of the University\nof Edinburgh. The medical education and examinations of this body were\nfor many years the best of their kind in these islands, and I doubt if,\nat the present moment, the three kingdoms can show a better school of\nmedicine than that of Edinburgh. The vast number of medical students at\nthat University is sufficient evidence of the opinion of those most\ninterested in this subject.\n\nOwing to all those influences, and to the revolution which has taken\nplace in the course of the last twenty years in our conceptions of the\nproper method of teaching physical science, the training of the medical\nstudent in a good school, and the examination test applied by the great\nmajority of the present licensing bodies, reduced now to nineteen, in\nconsequence of the retirement of the Archbishop and the fusion of two\nof the other licensing bodies, are totally different from what they\nwere even twenty years ago.\n\nI was perfectly astonished, upon one of my sons commencing his medical\ncareer the other day, when I contrasted the carefully-watched courses\nof theoretical and practical instruction, which he is expected to\nfollow with regularity and industry, and the number and nature of the\nexaminations which he will have to pass before he can receive his\nlicence, not only with the monstrous laxity of my own student days, but\neven with the state of things which obtained when my term of office as\nexaminer in the University of London expired some sixteen years ago.\n\nI have no hesitation in expressing the opinion, which is fully borne\nout by the evidence taken before the late Royal Commission, that a\nlarge proportion of the existing licensing bodies grant their licence\non conditions which ensure quite as high a standard as it is\npracticable or advisable to exact under present circumstances, and that\nthey show every desire to keep pace with the improvements of the times.\nAnd I think there can be no doubt that the great majority have so much\nimproved their ways, that their standard is far above that of the\nordinary qualification thirty years ago, and I cannot see what excuse\nthere would be for meddling with them if it were not for two other\ndefects which have to be remedied.\n\nUnfortunately there remain two or three black sheep--licensing bodies\nwhich simply trade upon their privilege, and sell the cheapest wares\nthey can for shame's sake supply to the bidder. Another defect in the\nexisting system, even where the examination has been so greatly\nimproved as to be good of its kind, is that there are certain licensing\nbodies which give a qualification for an acquaintance with either\nmedicine or surgery alone, and which more or less ignore obstetrics.\nThis is a revival of the archaic condition of the profession when\nsurgical operations were mostly left to the barbers and obstetrics to\nthe mid-wives, and when the physicians thought themselves, and were\nconsidered by the world, the \"superior persons\" of the profession. I\nremember a story was current in my young days of a great court\nphysician who was travelling with a friend, like himself, bound on a\nvisit to a country house. The friend fell down in an apoplectic fit,\nand the physician refused to bleed him because it was contrary to\nprofessional etiquette for a physician to perform that operation.\nWhether the friend died or whether he got better because he was not\nbled I do not remember, but the moral of the story is the same. On the\nother hand, a famous surgeon was asked whether he meant to bring up his\nson to his own calling, \"No,\" he said, \"he is such a fool, I mean to\nmake a physician of him.\"\n\nNowadays, it is happily recognised that medicine is one and\nindivisible, and that no one can properly practice one branch who is\nnot familiar with at any rate the principles of all. Thus the two great\nthings that are wanted now are, in the first place, some means of\nenforcing such a degree of uniformity upon all the examining bodies\nthat none should present a disgracefully low minimum or pass\nexamination; and the second point is that some body or other shall have\nthe power of enforcing upon every candidate for the licence to practice\nthe study of the three branches, what is called the tripartite\nqualification. All the members of the late commission were agreed that\nthese were the main points to be attended to in any proposals for the\nfurther improvement of medical training and qualification.\n\nBut such being the ends in view, our notions as to the best way of\nattaining them were singularly divergent; so that it came about that\neleven commissioners made seven reports. There was one main majority\nreport and six minor reports, which differed more or less from it,\nchiefly as to the best method of attaining these two objects.\n\nThe majority report recommended the adoption of what is known as the\nconjoint scheme. According to this plan the power of granting a licence\nto practise is to be taken away from all the existing bodies, whether\nthey have done well or ill, and to be placed in the hands of a body of\ndelegates (divisional boards), one for each of the three kingdoms. The\nlicence to practise is to be conferred by passing the delegate\nexamination. The licensee may afterwards, if he pleases, go before any\nof the existing bodies and indulge in the luxury of another examination\nand the payment of another fee in order to obtain a title, which does\nnot legally place him in any better position than that which he would\noccupy without it.\n\nUnder these circumstances, of course, the only motive for obtaining the\ndegree of a University or the licence of a medical corporation would be\nthe prestige of these bodies. Hence the \"black sheep\" would certainly\nbe deserted, while those bodies which have acquired a reputation by\ndoing their duty would suffer less.\n\nBut, as the majority report proposes that the existing bodies should be\ncompensated for any loss they might suffer out of the fees of the\nexaminers for the State licence, the curious result would be brought\nabout that the profession of the future would be taxed, for all time,\nfor the purpose of handing over to wholly irresponsible bodies a sum,\nthe amount of which would be large for those who had failed in their\nduty and small for those who had done it.\n\nThe scheme in fact involved a perpetual endowment of the \"black\nsheep,\" calculated on the maximum of their ill-gained profits. [1] I\nconfess that I found myself unable to assent to a plan which, in\naddition to the rewarding the evil doers, proposed to take away the\nprivileges of a number of examining bodies which confessedly were doing\ntheir duty well, for the sake of getting rid of a few who had failed.\nIt was too much like the Chinaman's device of burning down his house to\nobtain a poor dish of roast pig--uncertain whether in the end he might\nnot find a mere mass of cinders. What we do know is that the great\nmajority of the existing licensing bodies have marvellously improved in\nthe course of the last twenty years, and are improving. What we do not\nknow is that the complicated scheme of the divisional boards will ever\nbe got to work at all.\n\nMy own belief is that every necessary reform may be effected, without\nany interference with vested interests, without any unjust interference\nwith the prestige of institutions which have been, and still are,\nextremely valuable, without any question of compensation arising, and\nby an extremely simple operation. It is only necessary in fact to add a\ncouple of clauses to the Medical Act to this effect: (1) That from and\nafter such a date no person shall be placed upon the Medical Register\nunless he possesses the threefold qualification. (2) That from and\nafter this date no examination shall be accepted as satisfactory\nfrom any licensing body except such as has been carried on in part\nby examiners appointed by the licensing body, and in part by\ncoadjutor-examiners of equal authority appointed by the Medical Council\nor other central authority, and acting under their instructions.\n\nIn laying down a rule of this kind the State confiscates nothing, and\nmeddles with nobody, but simply acts within its undoubted right of\nlaying down the conditions under which it will confer certain\nprivileges upon medical practitioners. No one can say that the State\nhas not the right to do this; no one can say that the State interferes\nwith any private enterprise or corporate interest unjustly, in laying\ndown its own conditions for its own service. The plan would have the\nfurther advantage that all those corporate bodies which have obtained\n(as many of them have) a great and just prestige by the admirable way\nin which they have done their work, would reap their just reward in the\nthronging of students, thenceforward as formerly, to obtain their\nqualifications; while those who have neglected their duties, who have\nin some one or two cases, I am sorry to say, absolutely disgraced\nthemselves, would sink into oblivion, and come to a happy and natural\neuthanasia, in which their misdeeds and themselves would be entirely\nforgotten.\n\nTwo of my colleagues, Professor Turner and Mr. Bryce, M.P., whose\npractical familiarity with examinations gave their opinions a high\nvalue, expressed their substantial approval of this scheme, and I am\nunable to see the weight of the objections urged against it. It is\nurged that the difficulty and expense of adequately inspecting so many\nexaminations and of guaranteeing their efficiency would be great, and\nthe difficulty in the way of a fair adjustment of the representation of\nexisting interests and of the representation of new interests upon the\ngeneral Medical Council would be almost insuperable.\n\nThe latter objection is unintelligible to me. I am not aware that any\nattempt at such adjustment has been fairly discussed, and until that\nhas been done it may be well not to talk about insuperable\ndifficulties. As to the notion that there is any difficulty in getting\nthe coadjutor-examiners, or that the expense will be overwhelming, we\nhave the experience of Scotland, in which every University does, at the\npresent time, appoint its coadjutor-examiners, who do their work just\nin the way proposed.\n\nWhether in the way I have proposed, or by the Conjoint Scheme, however,\nthis is perfectly certain: the two things I refer to have to be done:\nyou must have the threefold qualification; you must have the limitation\nof the minimum qualification also; and any scheme for the improvement\nof the relations of the State to medicine which does not profess to do\nthese two things thoroughly and well, has no chance of finality.\n\nBut when these reforms are witnessed, when there is a Medical Council\narmed with a more real authority than it at present possesses; when a\nlicense to practice cannot be obtained without the threefold\nqualification; and when an even minimum of qualification is exacted for\nevery licence, is there anything else that remains that any one\nseriously interested in the welfare of the medical profession, as I may\nmost conscientiously declare myself to be, would like to see done? I\nthink there are three things.\n\nIn the first place, even now, when a four years' curriculum is\nrequired, the time allotted for medical education is too brief. A young\nman of eighteen beginning to study medicine is probably absolutely\nignorant of the existence of such a thing as anatomy, or physiology, or\nindeed of any branch of physical science. He comes into an entirely new\nworld; he addresses himself to a kind of work of which he has not the\nsmallest experience. Up to that time his work has been with books; he\nrushes suddenly into work with things, which is as different from work\nwith books as anything can well be. I am quite sure that a very\nconsiderable number of young men spend a very large portion of their\nfirst session in simply learning how to learn subjects which are\nentirely new to them. And yet recollect that in this period of four\nyears they have to acquire a knowledge of all the branches of a great\nand responsible practical calling of medicine, surgery, obstetrics,\ngeneral pathology, medical jurisprudence, and so forth. Anybody who\nknows what these things are, and who knows what is the kind of work\nwhich is necessary to give a man the confidence which will enable him\nto stand at the bedside and say to the satisfaction of his own\nconscience what shall be done, and what shall not be done, must be\naware that if a man has only four years to do all that in he will not\nhave much time to spare. But that is not all. As I have said, the young\nman comes up, probably ignorant of the existence of science; he has\nnever heard a word of chemistry, he has never heard a word of physics,\nhe has not the smallest conception of the outlines of biological\nscience; and all these things have to be learned as well and crammed\ninto the time which in itself is barely sufficient to acquire a fair\namount of that knowledge which is requisite for the satisfactory\ndischarge of his professional duties.\n\nTherefore it is quite clear to me that, somehow or other, the\ncurriculum must be lightened. It is not that any of the subjects which\nI have mentioned need not to be studied, and may be eliminated. The\nonly alternative therefore is to lengthen the time given to study.\nEverybody will agree with me that the practical necessities of life in\nthis country are such that, for the average medical practitioner at any\nrate, it is hopeless to think of extending the period of professional\nstudy beyond the age of twenty-two. So that as the period of study\ncannot be extended forwards, the only thing to be done is to extend it\nbackwards.\n\nThe question is how this can be done. My own belief is that if the\nMedical Council, instead of insisting upon that examination in general\neducation which I am sorry to say I believe to be entirely futile, were\nto insist upon a knowledge of elementary physics, and chemistry, and\nbiology, they would be taking one of the greatest steps which at\npresent can be made for the improvement of medical education. And the\nimprovement would be this. The great majority of the young men who are\ngoing into the profession have practically completed their general\neducation--or they might very well have done so--by the age of sixteen\nor seventeen. If the interval between this age and that at which they\ncommence their purely medical studies were employed in obtaining a\npractical acquaintance with elementary physics, chemistry, and biology,\nin my judgment it would be as good as two years added to the course of\nmedical study. And for two reasons: in the first place, because the\nsubject-matter of that which they would learn is germane to their\nfuture studies, and is so much gained; in the second place, because you\nmight clear out of the course of their professional study a great deal\nwhich at present occupies time and attention; and last, but not\nleast--probably most--they would then come to their medical studies\nprepared for that learning from Nature which is what they have to do in\nthe course of becoming skilful medical men, and for which at present\nthey are not in the slightest degree prepared by their previous\neducation.\n\nThe second wish I have to express concerns London especially, and I may\nspeak of it briefly as a more economical use of the teaching power in\nthe medical schools. At this present time every great hospital in\nLondon--and there are ten or eleven of them--has its complete medical\nschool, in which not only are the branches of practical medicine\ntaught, but also those studies in general science, such as chemistry,\nelementary physics, general anatomy, and a variety of other topics\nwhich are what used to be called (and the term was an extremely useful\none) the institutes of medicine. That was all very well half a century\nago; it is all very ill now, simply because those general branches of\nscience, such as anatomy, physiology, chemistry, physiological\nchemistry, physiological physics, and so forth, have now become so\nlarge, and the mode of teaching them is so completely altered, that it\nis absolutely impossible for any man to be a thoroughly competent\nteacher of them, or for any student to be effectually taught without\nthe devotion of the whole time of the person who is engaged in\nteaching. I undertake to say that it is hopelessly impossible for any\nman at the present time to keep abreast with the progress of physiology\nunless he gives his whole mind to it; and the bigger the mind is, the\nmore scope he will find for its employment. Again, teaching has become,\nand must become still more, practical, and that also involves a large\nexpenditure of time. But if a man is to give his whole time to my\nbusiness he must live by it, and the resources of the schools do not\npermit them to maintain ten or eleven physiological specialists.\n\nIf the students in their first one or two years were taught the\ninstitutes of medicine, in two or three central institutions, it would\nbe perfectly easy to have those subjects taught thoroughly and\neffectually by persons who gave their whole mind and attention to the\nsubject; while at the same time the medical schools at the hospitals\nwould remain what they ought to be--great institutions in which the\nlargest possible opportunities are laid open for acquiring practical\nacquaintance with the phenomena of disease. So that the preliminary or\nearlier half of medical education would take place in the central\ninstitutions, and the final half would be devoted altogether to\npractical studies in the hospitals.\n\nI happen to know that this conception has been entertained, not only by\nmyself, but by a great many of those persons who are most interested in\nthe improvement of medical study for a considerable number of years. I\ndo not know whether anything will come of it this half-century or not;\nbut the thing has to be done. It is not a speculative notion; it lies\npatent to everybody who is accustomed to teaching, and knows what the\nnecessities of teaching are; and I should very much like to see the\nfirst step taken--people making up their minds that it has to be done\nsomehow or other.\n\nThe last point to which I may advert is one which concerns the action\nof the profession itself more than anything else. We have arrangements\nfor teaching, we have arrangements for the testing of qualifications,\nwe have marvellous aids and appliances for the treatment of disease in\nall sorts of ways; but I do not find in London at the present time, in\nthis little place of four or five million inhabitants which supports so\nmany things, any organisation or any arrangement for advancing the\nscience of medicine, considered as a pure science. I am quite aware\nthat there are medical societies of various kinds; I am not ignorant of\nthe lectureships at the College of Physicians and the College of\nSurgeons; there is the Brown Institute; and there is the Society for\nthe Advancement of Medicine by Research, but there is no means, so far\nas I know, by which any person who has the inborn gifts of the\ninvestigator and discoverer of new truth, and who desires to apply that\nto the improvement of medical science, can carry out his intention. In\nParis there is the University of Paris, which gives degrees; but there\nare also the Sorbonne and the Coll\u00e9ge de France, places in which\nprofessoriates are established for the express purpose of enabling men\nwho have the power of investigation, the power of advancing knowledge\nand thereby reacting on practice, to do that which it is their special\nmission to do. I do not know of anything of the kind in London; and if\nit should so happen that a Claude Bernard or a Ludwig should turn up in\nLondon, I really have not the slightest notion of what we could do with\nhim. We could not turn him to account, and I think we should have to\nexport him to Germany or France. I doubt whether that is a good or a\nwise condition of things. I do not think it is a condition of things\nwhich can exist for any great length of time, now that people are every\nday becoming more and more awake to the importance of scientific\ninvestigation and to the astounding and unexpected manner in which it\neverywhere reacts upon practical pursuits. I should look upon the\nestablishment of some institution of that kind as a recognition on the\npart of the medical profession in general, that if their great and\nbeneficent work is to be carried on, they must, like other people who\nhave great and beneficent work to do, contribute to the advancement of\nknowledge in the only way in which experience shows that it can be\nadvanced.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1]The fees to be paid by candidates for admission to the examinations\nof the Divisional Board should be of such an amount as will be\nsufficient to cover the cost of the examinations and the other expenses\nof the Divisional Board, _and also to provide the sum required to\ncompensate the medical authorities, or such of them as may be entitled\nto compensation, for any pecuniary losses they may hereafter sustain by\nreason of the abolition of their privilege of conferring a licence to\npractise. Report_ 50, p. xii.\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\nTHE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE\n\n[1881]\n\n\nThe great body of theoretical and practical knowledge which has been\naccumulated by the labours of some eighty generations, since the dawn\nof scientific thought in Europe, has no collective English name to\nwhich an objection may not be raised; and I use the term \"medicine\" as\nthat which is least likely to be misunderstood; though, as every one\nknows, the name is commonly applied, in a narrower sense, to one of the\nchief divisions of the totality of medical science.\n\nTaken in this broad sense, \"medicine\" not merely denotes a kind of\nknowledge, but it comprehends the various applications of that\nknowledge to the alleviation of the sufferings, the repair of the\ninjuries, and the conservation of the health, of living beings. In\nfact, the practical aspect of medicine so far dominates over every\nother, that the \"Healing Art\" is one of its most widely-received\nsynonyms. It is so difficult to think of medicine otherwise than as\nsomething which is necessarily connected with curative treatment, that\nwe are apt to forget that there must be, and is, such a thing as a pure\nscience of medicine--a \"pathology\" which has no more necessary\nsubservience to practical ends than has zoology or botany.\n\nThe logical connection between this purely scientific doctrine of\ndisease, or pathology, and ordinary biology, is easily traced. Living\nmatter is characterised by its innate tendency to exhibit a definite\nseries of the morphological and physiological phenomena which\nconstitute organisation and life. Given a certain range of conditions,\nand these phenomena remain the same, within narrow limits, for each\nkind of living thing. They furnish the normal and typical character of\nthe species, and, as such, they are the subject-matter of ordinary\nbiology.\n\nOutside the range of these conditions, the normal course of the cycle\nof vital phenomena is disturbed; abnormal structure makes its\nappearance, or the proper character and mutual adjustment of the\nfunctions cease to be preserved. The extent and the importance of these\ndeviations from the typical life may vary indefinitely. They may have\nno noticeable influence on the general well-being of the economy, or\nthey may favour it. On the other hand, they may be of such a nature as\nto impede the activities of the organism, or even to involve its\ndestruction.\n\nIn the first case, these perturbations are ranged under the wide and\nsomewhat vague category of \"variations\"; in the second, they are called\nlesions, states of poisoning, or diseases; and, as morbid states, they\nlie within the province of pathology. No sharp line of demarcation can\nbe drawn between the two classes of phenomena. No one can say where\nanatomical variations end and tumours begin, nor where modification of\nfunction, which may at first promote health, passes into disease. All\nthat can be said is, that whatever change of structure or function is\nhurtful belongs to pathology. Hence it is obvious that pathology is a\nbranch of biology; it is the morphology, the physiology, the\ndistribution, the aetiology of abnormal life.\n\nHowever obvious this conclusion may be now, it was nowise apparent in\nthe infancy of medicine. For it is a peculiarity of the physical\nsciences that they are independent in proportion as they are imperfect;\nand it is only as they advance that the bonds which really unite them\nall become apparent. Astronomy had no manifest connection with\nterrestrial physics before the publication of the \"Principia\"; that of\nchemistry with physics is of still more modern revelation; that of\nphysics and chemistry with physiology, has been stoutly denied within\nthe recollection of most of us, and perhaps still may be.\n\n\nOr, to take a case which affords a closer parallel with that of\nmedicine. Agriculture has been cultivated from the earliest times, and,\nfrom a remote antiquity, men have attained considerable practical skill\nin the cultivation of the useful plants, and have empirically\nestablished many scientific truths concerning the conditions under\nwhich they flourish. But, it is within the memory of many of us, that\nchemistry on the one hand, and vegetable physiology on the other,\nattained a stage of development such that they were able to furnish a\nsound basis for scientific agriculture. Similarly, medicine took its\nrise in the practical needs of mankind. At first, studied without\nreference to any other branch of knowledge, it long maintained, indeed\nstill to some extent maintains, that independence. Historically, its\nconnection with the biological sciences has been slowly established,\nand the full extent and intimacy of that connection are only now\nbeginning to be apparent. I trust I have not been mistaken in supposing\nthat an attempt to give a brief sketch of the steps by which a\nphilosophical necessity has become an historical reality, may not be\ndevoid of interest, possibly of instruction, to the members of this\ngreat Congress, profoundly interested as all are in the scientific\ndevelopment of medicine.\n\nThe history of medicine is more complete and fuller than that of any\nother science, except, perhaps, astronomy; and, if we follow back the\nlong record as far as clear evidence lights us, we find ourselves taken\nto the early stages of the civilisation of Greece. The oldest hospitals\nwere the temples of Aesculapius; to these Asclepeia, always erected on\nhealthy sites, hard by fresh springs and surrounded by shady groves,\nthe sick and the maimed resorted to seek the aid of the god of health.\nVotive tablets or inscriptions recorded the symptoms, no less than the\ngratitude, of those who were healed; and, from these primitive clinical\nrecords, the half-priestly, half-philosophic caste of the Asclepiads\ncompiled the data upon which the earliest generalisations of medicine,\nas an inductive science, were based.\n\nIn this state, pathology, like all the inductive sciences at their\norigin, was merely natural history; it registered the phenomena of\ndisease, classified them, and ventured upon a prognosis, wherever the\nobservation of constant co-existences and sequences suggested a\nrational expectation of the like recurrence under similar\ncircumstances.\n\nFurther than this it hardly went. In fact, in the then state of\nknowledge, and in the condition of philosophical speculation at that\ntime, neither the causes of the morbid state, nor the _rationale_\nof treatment, were likely to be sought for as we seek for them now. The\nanger of a god was a sufficient reason for the existence of a malady,\nand a dream ample warranty for therapeutic measures; that a physical\nphenomenon must needs have a physical cause was not the implied or\nexpressed axiom that it is to us moderns.\n\nThe great man whose name is inseparably connected with the foundation\nof medicine, Hippocrates, certainly knew very little, indeed\npractically nothing, of anatomy or physiology; and he would, probably,\nhave been perplexed even to imagine the possibility of a connection\nbetween the zoological studies of his contemporary Democritus and\nmedicine. Nevertheless, in so far as he, and those who worked before\nand after him, in the same spirit, ascertained, as matters of\nexperience, that a wound, or a luxation, or a fever, presented such and\nsuch symptoms, and that the return of the patient to health was\nfacilitated by such and such measures, they established laws of nature,\nand began the construction of the science of pathology. All true\nscience begins with empiricism--though all true science is such\nexactly, in so far as it strives to pass out of the empirical stage\ninto that of the deduction of empirical from more general truths. Thus,\nit is not wonderful, that the early physicians had little or nothing to\ndo with the development of biological science; and, on the other hand,\nthat the early biologists did not much concern themselves with\nmedicine. There is nothing to show that the Asclepiads took any\nprominent share in the work of founding anatomy, physiology, zoology,\nand botany. Rather do these seem to have sprung from the early\nphilosophers, who were essentially natural philosophers, animated by\nthe characteristically Greek thirst for knowledge as such. Pythagoras,\nAlcmeon, Democritus, Diogenes of Apollonia, are all credited with\nanatomical and physiological investigations; and, though Aristotle is\nsaid to have belonged to an Asclepiad family, and not improbably owed\nhis taste for anatomical and zoological inquiries to the teachings of\nhis father, the physician Nicomachus, the \"Historia Animalium,\" and the\ntreatise \"De Partibus Animalium,\" are as free from any allusion to\nmedicine as if they had issued from a modern biological laboratory.\n\nIt may be added, that it is not easy to see in what way it could have\nbenefited a physician of Alexander's time to know all that Aristotle\nknew on these subjects. His human anatomy was too rough to avail much\nin diagnosis; his physiology was too erroneous to supply data for\npathological reasoning. But when the Alexandrian school, with\nErasistratus and Herophilus at their head, turned to account the\nopportunities of studying human structure, afforded to them by the\nPtolemies, the value of the large amount of accurate knowledge thus\nobtained to the surgeon for his operations, and to the physician for\nhis diagnosis of internal disorders, became obvious, and a connection\nwas established between anatomy and medicine, which has ever become\ncloser and closer. Since the revival of learning, surgery, medical\ndiagnosis, and anatomy have gone hand in hand. Morgagni called his\ngreat work, \"De sedibus et causis morborum per anatomen indagatis,\" and\nnot only showed the way to search out the localities and the causes of\ndisease by anatomy, but himself travelled wonderfully far upon the\nroad. Bichat, discriminating the grosser constituents of the organs and\nparts of the body, one from another, pointed out the direction which\nmodern research must take; until, at length, histology, a science of\nyesterday, as it seems to many of us, has carried the work of Morgagni\nas far as the microscope can take us, and has extended the realm of\npathological anatomy to the limits of the invisible world.\n\nThanks to the intimate alliance of morphology with medicine, the\nnatural history of disease has, at the present day, attained a high\ndegree of perfection. Accurate regional anatomy has rendered\npracticable the exploration of the most hidden parts of the organism,\nand the determination, during life, of morbid changes in them;\nanatomical and histological post-mortem investigations have supplied\nphysicians with a clear basis upon which to rest the classification, of\ndiseases, and with unerring tests of the accuracy or inaccuracy of\ntheir diagnoses.\n\nIf men could be satisfied with pure knowledge, the extreme precision\nwith which, in these days, a sufferer may be told what is happening,\nand what is likely to happen, even in the most recondite parts of his\nbodily frame, should be as satisfactory to the patient as it is to\nthe scientific pathologist who gives him the information. But I am\nafraid it is not; and even the practising physician, while nowise\nunder-estimating the regulative value of accurate diagnosis, must often\nlament that so much of his knowledge rather prevents him from doing\nwrong than helps him to do right.\n\nA scorner of physic once said that nature and disease may be compared\nto two men fighting, the doctor to a blind man with a club, who strikes\ninto the _m\u00eal\u00e9e_, sometimes hitting the disease, and sometimes\nhitting nature. The matter is not mended if you suppose the blind man's\nhearing to be so acute that he can register every stage of the\nstruggle, and pretty clearly predict how it will end. He had better not\nmeddle at all, until his eyes are opened, until he can see the exact\nposition of the antagonists, and make sure of the effect of his blows.\nBut that which it behoves the physician to see, not, indeed, with his\nbodily eye, but with clear, intellectual vision, is a process, and the\nchain of causation involved in that process. Disease, as we have seen,\nis a perturbation of the normal activities of a living body, and it is,\nand must remain, unintelligible, so long as we are ignorant of the\nnature of these normal activities. In other words, there could be no\nreal science of pathology until the science of physiology had reached a\ndegree of perfection unattained, and indeed unattainable, until quite\nrecent times.\n\nSo far as medicine is concerned, I am not sure that physiology, such as\nit was down to the time of Harvey, might as well not have existed. Nay,\nit is perhaps no exaggeration to say that, within the memory of living\nmen, justly renowned practitioners of medicine and surgery knew\nless physiology than is now to be learned from the most elementary\ntext-book; and, beyond a few broad facts, regarded what they did know\nas of extremely little practical importance. Nor am I disposed to blame\nthem for this conclusion; physiology must be useless, or worse than\nuseless, to pathology, so long as its fundamental conceptions are\nerroneous.\n\nHarvey is often said to be the founder of modern physiology; and there\ncan be no question that the elucidations of the function of the heart,\nof the nature of the pulse, and of the course of the blood, put forth\nin the ever-memorable little essay, \"De motu cordis,\" directly worked a\nrevolution in men's views of the nature and of the concatenation of\nsome of the most important physiological processes among the higher\nanimals; while, indirectly, their influence was perhaps even more\nremarkable.\n\nBut, though Harvey made this signal and perennially important\ncontribution to the physiology of the moderns, his general conception\nof vital processes was essentially identical with that of the ancients;\nand, in the \"Exercitationes de generatione,\" and notably in the\nsingular chapter \"De calido innato,\" he shows himself a true son of\nGalen and of Aristotle.\n\nFor Harvey, the blood possesses powers superior to those of the\nelements; it is the seat of a soul which is not only vegetative, but\nalso sensitive and motor. The blood maintains and fashions all parts of\nthe body, \"idque summ\u00e2 cum providenti\u00e2 et intellectu in finem certum\nagens, quasi ratiocinio quodam uteretur.\"\n\nHere is the doctrine of the \"pneuma,\" the product of the philosophical\nmould into which the animism of primitive men ran in Greece, in full\nforce. Nor did its strength abate for long after Harvey's time. The\nsame ingrained tendency of the human mind to suppose that a process is\nexplained when it is ascribed to a power of which nothing is known\nexcept that it is the hypothetical agent of the process, gave rise, in\nthe next century, to the animism of Stahl; and, later, to the doctrine\nof a vital principle, that \"asylum ignorantiae\" of physiologists, which\nhas so easily accounted for everything and explained nothing, down to\nour own times.\n\nNow the essence of modern, as contrasted with ancient, physiological\nscience appears to me to lie in its antagonism to animistic hypotheses\nand animistic phraseology. It offers physical explanations of vital\nphenomena, or frankly confesses that it has none to offer. And, so far\nas I know, the first person who gave expression to this modern view of\nphysiology, who was bold enough to enunciate the proposition that vital\nphenomena, like all the other phenomena of the physical world, are, in\nultimate analysis, resolvable into matter and motion, was Ren\u00e9\nDescartes.\n\nThe fifty-four years of life of this most original and powerful thinker\nare widely overlapped, on both sides, by the eighty of Harvey, who\nsurvived his younger contemporary by seven years, and takes pleasure in\nacknowledging the French philosopher's appreciation of his great\ndiscovery.\n\nIn fact, Descartes accepted the doctrine of the circulation as\npropounded by \"Harvaeus m\u00e9decin d'Angleterre,\" and gave a full account\nof it in his first work, the famous \"Discours de la M\u00e9thode,\" which was\npublished in 1637, only nine years after the exercitation \"De motu\ncordis\"; and, though differing from Harvey on some important points (in\nwhich it may be noted, in passing, Descartes was wrong and Harvey\nright), he always speaks of him with great respect. And so important\ndoes the subject seem to Descartes, that he returns to it in the\n\"Trait\u00e9 des Passions,\" and in the \"Trait\u00e9 de l'Homme.\"\n\nIt is easy to see that Harvey's work must have had a peculiar\nsignificance for the subtle thinker, to whom we owe both the\nspiritualistic and the materialistic philosophies of modern times. It\nwas in the very year of its publication, 1628, that Descartes withdrew\ninto that life of solitary investigation and meditation of which his\nphilosophy was the fruit. And, as the course of his speculations led\nhim to establish an absolute distinction of nature between the material\nand the mental worlds, he was logically compelled to seek for the\nexplanation of the phenomena of the material world within itself; and\nhaving allotted the realm of thought to the soul, to see nothing but\nextension and motion in the rest of nature. Descartes uses \"thought\" as\nthe equivalent of our modern term \"consciousness.\" Thought is the\nfunction of the soul, and its only function. Our natural heat and all\nthe movements of the body, says he, do not depend on the soul. Death\ndoes not take place from any fault of the soul, but only because some\nof the principal parts of the body become corrupted. The body of a\nliving man differs from that of a dead man in the same way as a watch\nor other automaton (that is to say, a machine which moves of itself)\nwhen it is wound up and has, in itself, the physical principle of the\nmovements which the mechanism is adapted to perform, differs from the\nsame watch, or other machine, when it is broken, and the physical\nprinciple of its movement no longer exists. All the actions which are\ncommon to us and the lower animals depend only on the conformation of\nour organs, and the course which the animal spirits take in the brain,\nthe nerves, and the muscles; in the same way as the movement of a watch\nis produced by nothing but the force of its spring and the figure of\nits wheels and other parts.\n\nDescartes' \"Treatise on Man\" is a sketch of human physiology, in which\na bold attempt is made to explain all the phenomena of life, except\nthose of consciousness, by physical reasonings. To a mind turned in\nthis direction, Harvey's exposition of the heart and vessels as a\nhydraulic mechanism must have been supremely welcome.\n\nDescartes was not a mere philosophical theorist, but a hardworking\ndissector and experimenter, and he held the strongest opinion\nrespecting the practical value of the new conception which he was\nintroducing. He speaks of the importance of preserving health, and of\nthe dependence of the mind on the body being so close that, perhaps,\nthe only way of making men wiser and better than they are, is to be\nsought in medical science. \"It is true,\" says he, \"that as medicine is\nnow practised it contains little that is very useful; but without any\ndesire to depreciate, I am sure that there is no one, even among\nprofessional men, who will not declare that all we know is very little\nas compared with that which remains to be known; and that we might\nescape an infinity of diseases of the mind, no less than of the body,\nand even perhaps from the weakness of old age, if we had sufficient\nknowledge of their causes, and of all the remedies with which nature\nhas provided us.\" [1] So strongly impressed was Descartes with this,\nthat he resolved to spend the rest of his life in trying to acquire\nsuch a knowledge of nature as would lead to the construction of a\nbetter medical doctrine. [2] The anti-Cartesians found material for\ncheap ridicule in these aspirations of the philosopher; and it is\nalmost needless to say that, in the thirteen years which elapsed\nbetween the publication of the \"Discours\" and the death of Descartes,\nhe did not contribute much to their realisation. But, for the next\ncentury, all progress in physiology took place along the lines which\nDescartes laid down.\n\nThe greatest physiological and pathological work of the seventeenth\ncentury, Borelli's treatise \"De Motu Animalium,\" is, to all intents and\npurposes, a development of Descartes' fundamental conception; and the\nsame may be said of the physiology and pathology of Boerhaave, whose\nauthority dominated in the medical world of the first half of the\neighteenth century.\n\nWith the origin of modern chemistry, and of electrical science, in the\nlatter half of the eighteenth century, aids in the analysis of the\nphenomena of life, of which Descartes could not have dreamed, were\noffered to the physiologist. And the greater part of the gigantic\nprogress which has been made in the present century is a justification\nof the prevision of Descartes. For it consists, essentially, in a more\nand more complete resolution of the grosser organs of the living body\ninto physicochemical mechanisms.\n\n\"I shall try to explain our whole bodily machinery in such a way, that\nit will be no more necessary for us to suppose that the soul produces\nsuch movements as are not voluntary, than it is to think that there is\nin a clock a soul which causes it to show the hours.\" [3] These words\nof Descartes might be appropriately taken as a motto by the author of\nany modern treatise on physiology.\n\nBut though, as I think, there is no doubt that Descartes was the first\nto propound the fundamental conception of the living body as a physical\nmechanism, which is the distinctive feature of modern, as contrasted\nwith ancient physiology, he was misled by the natural temptation to\ncarry out, in all its details, a parallel between the machines with\nwhich he was familiar, such as clocks and pieces of hydraulic\napparatus, and the living machine. In all such machines there is a\ncentral source of power, and the parts of the machine are merely\npassive distributors of that power. The Cartesian school conceived of\nthe living body as a machine of this kind; and herein they might have\nlearned from Galen, who, whatever ill use he may have made of the\ndoctrine of \"natural faculties,\" nevertheless had the great merit of\nperceiving that local forces play a great part in physiology.\n\nThe same truth was recognised by Glisson, but it was first prominently\nbrought forward in the Hallerian doctrine of the \"vis insita\" of\nmuscles. If muscle can contract without nerve, there is an end of the\nCartesian mechanical explanation of its contraction by the influx of\nanimal spirits.\n\nThe discoveries of Trembley tended in the same direction. In the\nfreshwater _Hydra_, no trace was to be found of that complicated\nmachinery upon which the performance of the functions in the higher\nanimals was supposed to depend. And yet the hydra moved, fed, grew,\nmultiplied, and its fragments exhibited all the powers of the whole.\nAnd, finally, the work of Caspar F. Wolff, [4] by demonstrating the\nfact that the growth and development of both plants and animals take\nplace antecedently to the existence of their grosser organs, and are,\nin fact, the causes and not the consequences of organisation (as then\nunderstood), sapped the foundations of the Cartesian physiology as a\ncomplete expression of vital phenomena.\n\nFor Wolff, the physical basis of life is a fluid, possessed of a \"vis\nessentialis\" and a \"solidescibilitas,\" in virtue of which it gives rise\nto organisation; and, as he points out, this conclusion strikes at the\nroot of the whole iatro-mechanical system.\n\nIn this country, the great authority of John Hunter exerted a similar\ninfluence; though it must be admitted that the too sibylline utterances\nwhich are the outcome of Hunter's struggles to define his conceptions\nare often susceptible of more than one interpretation. Nevertheless, on\nsome points Hunter is clear enough. For example, he is of opinion that\n\"Spirit is only a property of matter\" (\"Introduction to Natural\nHistory,\" p. 6), he is prepared to renounce animism, (_l.c._ p.\n8), and his conception of life is so completely physical that he thinks\nof it as something which can exist in a state of combination in the\nfood. \"The aliment we take in has in it, in a fixed state, the real\nlife; and this does not become active until it has got into the lungs;\nfor there it is freed from its prison\" (\"Observations on Physiology,\"\np. 113). He also thinks that \"It is more in accord with the general\nprinciples of the animal machine to suppose that none of its effects\nare produced from any mechanical principle whatever; and that every\neffect is produced from an action in the part; which action is produced\nby a stimulus upon the part which acts, or upon some other part with\nwhich this part sympathises so as to take up the whole action\" (_l.c._\np. 152).\n\nAnd Hunter is as clear as Wolff, with whose work he was probably\nunacquainted, that \"whatever life is, it most certainly does not depend\nupon structure or organisation\" (_l.c._ p. 114).\n\nOf course it is impossible that Hunter could have intended to deny the\nexistence of purely mechanical operations in the animal body. But\nwhile, with Borelli and Boerhaave, he looked upon absorption,\nnutrition, and secretion as operations effected by means of the small\nvessels, he differed from the mechanical physiologists, who regarded\nthese operations as the result of the mechanical properties of the\nsmall vessels, such as the size, form, and disposition of their canals\nand apertures. Hunter, on the contrary, considers them to be the effect\nof properties of these vessels which are not mechanical but vital. \"The\nvessels,\" says he, \"have more of the polypus in them than any other\npart of the body,\" and he talks of the \"living and sensitive principles\nof the arteries,\" and even of the \"dispositions or feelings of the\narteries.\" \"When the blood is good and genuine the sensations of the\narteries, or the dispositions for sensation, are agreeable.... It is\nthen they dispose of the blood to the best advantage, increasing the\ngrowth of the whole, supplying any losses, keeping up a due succession,\netc.\" (_l.c._ p. 133).\n\nIf we follow Hunter's conceptions to their logical issue, the life of\none of the higher animals is essentially the sum of the lives of all\nthe vessels, each of which is a sort of physiological unit, answering\nto a polype; and, as health is the result of the normal \"action of the\nvessels,\" so is disease an effect of their abnormal action. Hunter thus\nstands in thought, as in time, midway between Borelli on the one hand,\nand Bichat on the other.\n\nThe acute founder of general anatomy, in fact, outdoes Hunter in his\ndesire to exclude physical reasonings from the realm of life. Except in\nthe interpretation of the action of the sense organs, he will not allow\nphysics to have anything to do with physiology.\n\n\"To apply the physical sciences to physiology is to explain the\nphenomena of living bodies by the laws of inert bodies. Now this is a\nfalse principle, hence all its consequences are marked with the same\nstamp. Let us leave to chemistry its affinity; to physics, its\nelasticity and its gravity. Let us invoke for physiology only\nsensibility and contractility.\" [5]\n\nOf all the unfortunate dicta of men of eminent ability this seems one\nof the most unhappy, when we think of what the application of the\nmethods and the data of physics and chemistry has done towards bringing\nphysiology into its present state. It is not too much to say that\none-half of a modern text-book of physiology consists of applied\nphysics and chemistry; and that it is exactly in the exploration of the\nphenomena of sensibility and contractility that physics and chemistry\nhave exerted the most potent influence.\n\nNevertheless, Bichat rendered a solid service to physiological progress\nby insisting upon the fact that what we call life, in one of the higher\nanimals, is not an indivisible unitary archaeus dominating, from its\ncentral seat, the parts of the organism, but a compound result of the\nsynthesis of the separate lives of those parts.\n\n\"All animals,\" says he, \"are assemblages of different organs, each of\nwhich performs its function and concurs, after its fashion, in the\npreservation of the whole. They are so many special machines in the\ngeneral machine which constitutes the individual. But each of these\nspecial machines is itself compounded of many tissues of very different\nnatures, which in truth constitute the elements of those organs\"\n(_l.c._ lxxix.). \"The conception of a proper vitality is applicable\nonly to these simple tissues, and not to the organs themselves\"\n(_l.c._ lxxxiv.).\n\nAnd Bichat proceeds to make the obvious application of this doctrine of\nsynthetic life, if I may so call it, to pathology. Since diseases are\nonly alterations of vital properties, and the properties of each tissue\nare distinct from those of the rest, it is evident that the diseases of\neach tissue must be different from those of the rest. Therefore, in any\norgan composed of different tissues, one may be diseased and the other\nremain healthy; and this is what happens in most cases (_l.c._ lxxxv.).\n\nIn a spirit of true prophecy, Bichat says, \"We have arrived at an epoch\nin which pathological anatomy should start afresh.\" For, as the\nanalysis of the organs had led him to the tissues as the physiological\nunits of the organism; so, in a succeeding generation, the analysis of\nthe tissues led to the cell as the physiological element of the\ntissues. The contemporaneous study of development brought out the same\nresult; and the zoologists and botanists, exploring the simplest and\nthe lowest forms of animated beings, confirmed the great induction of\nthe cell theory. Thus the apparently opposed views, which have been\nbattling with one another ever since the middle of the last century,\nhave proved to be each half the truth.\n\nThe proposition of Descartes that the body of a living man is a\nmachine, the actions of which are explicable by the known laws of\nmatter and motion, is unquestionably largely true. But it is also true,\nthat the living body is a synthesis of innumerable physiological\nelements, each of which may nearly be described, in Wolff's words, as a\nfluid possessed of a \"vis essentialis\" and a \"solidescibilitas\"; or, in\nmodern phrase, as protoplasm susceptible of structural metamorphosis\nand functional metabolism: and that the only machinery, in the precise\nsense in which the Cartesian school understood mechanism, is, that\nwhich co-ordinates and regulates these physiological units into an\norganic whole.\n\nIn fact, the body is a machine of the nature of an army, not of that of\na watch or of a hydraulic apparatus. Of this army each cell is a\nsoldier, an organ a brigade, the central nervous system headquarters\nand field telegraph, the alimentary and circulatory system the\ncommissariat. Losses are made good by recruits born in camp, and the\nlife of the individual is a campaign, conducted successfully for a\nnumber of years, but with certain defeat in the long run.\n\nThe efficacy of an army, at any given moment, depends on the health of\nthe individual soldier, and on the perfection of the machinery by which\nhe is led and brought into action at the proper time; and, therefore,\nif the analogy holds good, there can be only two kinds of diseases, the\none dependent on abnormal states of the physiological units, the other\non perturbations of their co-ordinating and alimentative machinery.\n\nHence, the establishment of the cell theory, in normal biology, was\nswiftly followed by a \"cellular pathology,\" as its logical counterpart.\nI need not remind you how great an instrument of investigation this\ndoctrine has proved in the hands of the man of genius to whom its\ndevelopment is due, and who would probably be the last to forget that\nabnormal conditions of the co-ordinative and distributive machinery of\nthe body are no less important factors of disease.\n\nHenceforward, as it appears to me, the connection of medicine with the\nbiological sciences is clearly indicated. Pure pathology is that branch\nof biology which defines the particular perturbation of cell-life, or\nof the co-ordinating machinery, or of both, on which the phenomena of\ndisease depend.\n\nThose who are conversant with the present state of biology will hardly\nhesitate to admit that the conception of the life of one of the higher\nanimals as the summation of the lives of a cell aggregate, brought into\nharmonious action by a co-ordinative machinery formed by some of these\ncells, constitutes a permanent acquisition of physiological science.\nBut the last form of the battle between the animistic and the physical\nviews of life is seen in the contention whether the physical analysis\nof vital phenomena can be carried beyond this point or not.\n\nThere are some to whom living protoplasm is a substance, even such as\nHarvey conceived the blood to be, \"summ\u00e2 cum providenti\u00e2 et intellectu\nin finem certum agens, quasi ratiocinio quodam;\" and who look with as\nlittle favour as Bichat did, upon any attempt to apply the principles\nand the methods of physics and chemistry to the investigation of the\nvital processes of growth, metabolism, and contractility. They stand\nupon the ancient ways; only, in accordance with that progress towards\ndemocracy, which a great political writer has declared to be the fatal\ncharacteristic of modern times, they substitute a republic formed by a\nfew billion of \"animulae\" for the monarchy of the all-pervading\n\"anima.\"\n\nOthers, on the contrary, supported by a robust faith in the universal\napplicability of the principles laid down by Descartes, and seeing that\nthe actions called \"vital\" are, so far as we have any means of knowing,\nnothing but changes of place of particles of matter, look to molecular\nphysics to achieve the analysis of the living protoplasm itself into a\nmolecular mechanism. If there is any truth in the received doctrines of\nphysics, that contrast between living and inert matter, on which Bichat\nlays so much stress, does not exist. In nature, nothing is at rest,\nnothing is amorphous; the simplest particle of that which men in their\nblindness are pleased to call \"brute matter\" is a vast aggregate of\nmolecular mechanisms performing complicated movements of immense\nrapidity, and sensitively adjusting themselves to every change in the\nsurrounding world. Living matter differs from other matter in degree\nand not in kind; the microcosm repeats the macrocosm; and one chain of\ncausation connects the nebulous original of suns and planetary systems\nwith the protoplasmic foundation of life and organisation.\n\nFrom this point of view, pathology is the analogue of the theory of\nperturbations in astronomy; and therapeutics resolves itself into the\ndiscovery of the means by which a system of forces competent to\neliminate any given perturbation may be introduced into the economy.\nAnd, as pathology bases itself upon normal physiology, so therapeutics\nrests upon pharmacology; which is, strictly speaking, a part of the\ngreat biological topic of the influence of conditions on the living\norganism, and has no scientific foundation apart from physiology.\n\nIt appears to me that there is no more hopeful indication of the\nprogress of medicine towards the ideal of Descartes than is to be\nderived from a comparison of the state of pharmacology, at the present\nday, with that which existed forty years ago. If we consider the\nknowledge positively acquired, in this short time, of the _modus\noperandi_ of urari, of atropia, of physostigmin, of veratria, of\ncasca, of strychnia, of bromide of potassium, of phosphorus, there can\nsurely be no ground for doubting that, sooner or later, the\npharmacologist will supply the physician with the means of affecting,\nin any desired sense, the functions of any physiological element of the\nbody. It will, in short, become possible to introduce into the economy\na molecular mechanism which, like a very cunningly-contrived torpedo,\nshall find its way to some particular group of living elements, and\ncause an explosion among them, leaving the rest untouched.\n\nThe search for the explanation of diseased states in modified\ncell-life; the discovery of the important part played by parasitic\norganisms in the aetiology of disease; the elucidation of the action of\nmedicaments by the methods and the data of experimental physiology;\nappear to me to be the greatest steps which have ever been made towards\nthe establishment of medicine on a scientific basis. I need hardly say\nthey could not have been made except for the advance of normal biology.\n\nThere can be no question, then, as to the nature or the value of the\nconnection between medicine and the biological sciences. There can be\nno doubt that the future of pathology and of therapeutics, and,\ntherefore, that of practical medicine, depends upon the extent to which\nthose who occupy themselves with these subjects are trained in the\nmethods and impregnated with the fundamental truths of biology.\n\nAnd, in conclusion, I venture to suggest that the collective sagacity\nof this congress could occupy itself with no more important question\nthan with this: How is medical education to be arranged, so that,\nwithout entangling the student in those details of the systematist\nwhich are valueless to him, he may be enabled to obtain a firm grasp of\nthe great truths respecting animal and vegetable life, without which,\nnotwithstanding all the progress of scientific medicine, he will still\nfind himself an empiric?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] _Discours de la M\u00e9thode_, 6e partie, Ed. Cousin, p. 193.\n\n[2] _Ibid_. pp. 193 and 211.\n\n[3] _De la Formation du Foetus_.\n\n[4] _Theoria Generationis_, 1759.\n\n[5] _Anatomie g\u00e9n\u00e9rale_, i. p. liv.\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\nTHE SCHOOL BOARDS: WHAT THEY CAN DO, AND WHAT THEY MAY DO.\n\n[1870]\n\n\nAn electioneering manifesto would be out of place in the pages of this\nReview; but any suspicion that may arise in the mind of the reader that\nthe following pages partake of that nature, will be dispelled, if he\nreflect that they cannot be published [1] until after the day on which\nthe ratepayers of the metropolis will have decided which candidates for\nseats upon the Metropolitan School Board they will take, and which they\nwill leave.\n\nAs one of those candidates, I may be permitted to say, that I feel much\nin the frame of mind of the Irish bricklayer's labourer, who bet\nanother that he could not carry him to the top of the ladder in his\nhod. The challenged hodman won his wager, but as the stakes were handed\nover, the challenger wistfully remarked, \"I'd great hopes of falling at\nthe third round from the top.\" And, in view of the work and the worry\nwhich awaits the members of the School Boards, I must confess to an\noccasional ungrateful hope that the friends who are toiling upwards\nwith me in their hod, may, when they reach \"the third round from the\ntop,\" let me fall back into peace and quietness.\n\nBut whether fortune befriend me in this rough method, or not, I should\nlike to submit to those of whom I am potential, but of whom I may not\nbe an actual, colleague, and to others who may be interested in this\nmost important problem--how to get the Education Act to work\nefficiently--some considerations as to what are the duties of the\nmembers of the School Boards, and what are the limits of their power.\n\nI suppose no one will be disposed to dispute the proposition, that the\nprime duty of every member of such a Board is to endeavour to\nadminister the Act honestly; or in accordance, not only with its\nletter, but with its spirit. And if so, it would seem that the first\nstep towards this very desirable end is, to obtain a clear notion of\nwhat that letter signifies, and what that spirit implies; or, in other\nwords, what the clauses of the Act are intended to enjoin and to\nforbid. So that it is really not admissible, except for factious and\nabusive purposes, to assume that any one who endeavours to get at this\nclear meaning is desirous only of raising quibbles and making\ndifficulties.\n\nReading the Act with this desire to understand it, I find that its\nprovisions may be classified, as might naturally be expected, under two\nheads: the one set relating to the subject-matter of education; the\nother to the establishment, maintenance, and administration of the\nschools in which that education is to be conducted.\n\nNow it is a most important circumstance, that all the sections of the\nAct, except four, belong to the latter division; that is, they refer to\nmere matters of administration. The four sections in question are the\nseventh, the fourteenth, the sixteenth, and the ninety-seventh. Of\nthese, the seventh, the fourteenth, and the ninety-seventh deal with\nthe subject-matter of education, while the sixteenth defines the nature\nof the relations which are to exist between the \"Education Department\"\n(an euphemism for the future Minister of Education) and the School\nBoards. It is the sixteenth clause which is the most important, and, in\nsome respects, the most remarkable of all. It runs thus:--\n\n    \"If the School Board do, or permit, any act in contravention of, or\n    fail to comply with, the regulations, according to which a school\n    provided by them is required by this Act to be conducted, the\n    Education Department may declare the School Board to be, and such\n    Board shall accordingly be deemed to be, a Board in default, and\n    the Education Department may proceed accordingly; and every act, or\n    omission, of any member of the School Board, or manager appointed\n    by them, or any person under the control of the Board, shall be\n    deemed to be permitted by the Board, unless the contrary be proved.\n\n    \"If any dispute arises as to whether the School Board have done, or\n    permitted, any act in contravention of, or have failed to comply\n    with, the said regulations, _the matter shall be referred to the\n    Education Department, whose decision thereon shall be final_.\"\n\nIt will be observed that this clause gives the Minister of Education\nabsolute power over the doings of the School Boards. He is not only the\nadministrator of the Act, but he is its interpreter. I had imagined\nthat on the occurrence of a dispute, not as regards a question of pure\nadministration, but as to the meaning of a clause of the Act, a case\nmight be taken and referred to a court of justice. But I am led to\nbelieve that the Legislature has, in the present instance, deliberately\ntaken this power out of the hands of the judges and lodged it in those\nof the Minister of Education, who, in accordance with our method of\nmaking Ministers, will necessarily be a political partisan, and who may\nbe a strong theological sectary into the bargain. And I am informed by\nmembers of Parliament who watched the progress of the Act, that the\nresponsibility for this unusual state of things rests, not with the\nGovernment, but with the Legislature, which exhibited a singular\ndisposition to accumulate power in the hands of the future Minister of\nEducation, and to evade the more troublesome difficulties of the\neducation question by leaving them to be settled between that Minister\nand the School Boards.\n\nI express no opinion whether it is, or is not, desirable that such\npowers of controlling all the School Boards in the country should be\npossessed by a person who may be, like Mr. Forster, eminently likely to\nuse these powers justly and wisely, but who also may be quite the\nreverse. I merely wish to draw attention to the fact that such powers\nare given to the Minister, whether he be fit or unfit. The extent of\nthese powers becomes apparent when the other sections of the Act\nreferred to are considered. The fourth clause of the seventh section\nsays:--\n\n    \"The school shall be conducted in accordance with the conditions\n    required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in order to obtain\n    an annual Parliamentary grant.\"\n\nWhat these conditions are appears from the following clauses of the\nninety-seventh section:--\n\n    \"The conditions required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in\n    order to obtain an annual Parliamentary grant shall be those\n    contained in the minutes of the Education Department in force for\n    the time being.... Provided that no such minute of the Education\n    Department, not in force at the time of the passing of this Act,\n    shall be deemed to be in force until it has lain for not less than\n    one month on the table of both Houses of Parliament.\"\n\nLet us consider how this will work in practice. A school established by\na School Board may receive support from three sources--from the rates,\nthe school fees, and the Parliamentary grant. The latter may be as\ngreat as the two former taken together; and as it may be assumed,\nwithout much risk of error, that a constant pressure will be exerted by\nthe ratepayers on the members who represent them to get as much out of\nthe Government, and as little out of the rates, as possible, the School\nBoards will have a very strong motive for shaping the education they\ngive, as nearly as may be, on the model which the Education Minister\noffers for their imitation, and for the copying of which he is prepared\nto pay.\n\nThe Revised Code did not compel any schoolmaster to leave off teaching\nanything; but, by the very simple process of refusing to pay for many\nkinds of teaching, it has practically put an end to them. Mr. Forster\nis said to be engaged in revising the Revised Code; a successor of his\nmay re-revise it--and there will be no sort of check upon these\nrevisions and counter revisions, except the possibility of a\nParliamentary debate, when the revised, or added, minutes are laid upon\nthe table. What chance is there that any such debate will take place on\na matter of detail relating to elementary education--a subject with\nwhich members of the Legislature, having been, for the most part, sent\nto our public schools thirty years ago, have not the least practical\nacquaintance, and for which they care nothing, unless it derives a\npolitical value from its connection with sectarian politics?\n\nI cannot but think, then, that the School Boards will have the\nappearance, but not the reality, of freedom of action, in regard to the\nsubject-matter of what is commonly called \"secular\" education.\n\nAs respects what is commonly called \"religious\" education, the power of\nthe Minister of Education is even more despotic. An interest, almost\namounting to pathos, attaches itself, in my mind, to the frantic\nexertions which are at present going on in almost every school\ndivision, to elect certain candidates whose names have never before\nbeen heard of in connection with education, and who are either\nsectarian partisans, or nothing. In my own particular division, a body\norganised _ad hoc_ is moving heaven and earth to get the seven\nseats filled by seven gentlemen, four of whom are good Churchmen, and\nthree no less good Dissenters. But why should this seven times heated\nfiery furnace of theological zeal be so desirous to shed its genial\nwarmth over the London School Board? Can it be that these zealous\nsectaries mean to evade the solemn pledge given in the Act?\n\n    \"No religious catechism or religious formulary which is distinctive\n    of any particular denomination shall be taught in the school.\"\n\nI confess I should have thought it my duty to reject any such\nsuggestion, as dishonouring to a number of worthy persons, if it had\nnot been for a leading article and some correspondence which appeared\nin the _Guardian_ of November 9th, 1870.\n\nThe _Guardian_ is, as everybody knows, one of the best of the\n\"religious\" newspapers; and, personally, I have every reason to speak\nhighly of the fairness, and indeed kindness, with which the editor is\ngood enough to deal with a writer who must, in many ways, be so\nobjectionable to him as myself. I quote the following passages from a\nleading article on a letter of mine, therefore, with all respect, and\nwith a genuine conviction that the course of conduct advocated by the\nwriter must appear to him in a very different light from that under\nwhich I see it:--\n\n    \"The first of these points is the interpretation which Professor\n    Huxley puts on the 'Cowper-Temple clause.' It is, in fact, that\n    which we foretold some time ago as likely to be forced upon it by\n    those who think with him. The clause itself was one of those\n    compromises which it is very difficult to define or to maintain\n    logically. On the one side was the simple freedom to School Boards\n    to establish what schools they pleased, which Mr. Forster\n    originally gave, but against which the Nonconformists lifted up\n    their voices, because they conceived it likely to give too much\n    power to the Church. On the other side there was the proposition to\n    make the schools secular--intelligible enough, but in the\n    consideration of public opinion simply impossible--and there was\n    the vague impracticable idea, which Mr. Gladstone thoroughly tore\n    to pieces, of enacting that the teaching of all school-masters in\n    the new schools should be strictly 'undenominational.' The\n    Cowper-Temple clause was, we repeat, proposed simply to tide over\n    the difficulty. It was to satisfy the Nonconformists and the\n    'unsectarian,' as distinct from the secular party of the League, by\n    forbidding all distinctive 'catechisms and formularies,' which\n    might have the effect of openly assigning the schools to this or\n    that religious body. It refused, at the same time, to attempt the\n    impossible task of defining what was undenominational; and its\n    author even contended, if we understood him correctly, that it\n    would in no way, even indirectly, interfere with the substantial\n    teaching of any master in any school. This assertion we always\n    believed to be untenable; we could not see how, in the face of this\n    clause, a distinctly denominational tone could be honestly given to\n    schools nominally general. But beyond this mere suggestion of\n    an attempt at a general tone of comprehensiveness in religious\n    teaching it was not intended to go, and only because such was its\n    limitation was it accepted by the Government and by the House.\n\n    \"But now we are told that it is to be construed as doing precisely\n    that which it refused to do. A 'formulary,' it seems, is a\n    collection of formulas, and formulas are simply propositions of\n    whatever kind touching religious faith. All such propositions, if\n    they cannot be accepted by all Christian denominations, are to be\n    proscribed; and it is added significantly that the Jews also are a\n    denomination, and so that any teaching distinctively Christian is\n    perhaps to be excluded, lest it should interfere with their freedom\n    and rights. Are we then to fall back on the simple reading of the\n    letter of the Bible? No! this, it is granted, would be an 'unworthy\n    pretence.' The teacher is to give 'grammatical, geographical, or\n    historical explanations;' but he is to keep clear of 'theology\n    proper,' because, as Professor Huxley takes great pains to prove,\n    there is no theological teaching which is not opposed by some sect\n    or other, from Roman Catholicism on the one hand to Unitarianism on\n    the other. It was not, perhaps, hard to see that this difficulty\n    would be started; and to those who, like Professor Huxley look at\n    it theoretically, without much practical experience of schools, it\n    may appear serious or unanswerable. But there is very little in it\n    practically; when it is faced determinately and handled firmly, it\n    will soon shrink into its true dimensions. The class who are least\n    frightened at it are the school teachers, simply because they know\n    most about it. It is quite clear that the school managers must be\n    cautioned against allowing their schools to be made places of\n    proselytism: but when this is done, the case is simple enough.\n    Leave the masters under this general understanding to teach freely;\n    if there in ground of complaint, let it be made, but leave the\n    _onus probandi_ on the objectors. For extreme peculiarities of\n    belief or unbelief there is the Conscience Clause; as to the mass\n    of parents, they will be more anxious to have religion taught than\n    afraid of its assuming this or that particular shade. They will\n    trust the school managers and teachers till they have reason to\n    distrust them, and experience has shown that they may trust them\n    safely enough. Any attempt to throw the burden of making the\n    teaching undenominational upon the managers must be sternly\n    resisted: it is simply evading the intentions of the Act in an\n    elaborate attempt to carry them out. We thank Professor Huxley for\n    the warning. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.\"\n\nA good deal of light seems to me to be thrown on the practical\nsignificance of the opinions expressed in the foregoing extract by the\nfollowing interesting letter, which appeared in the same paper:--\n\n    \"Sir,--I venture to send to you the substance of a correspondence\n    with the Education Department upon the question of the lawfulness\n    of religious teaching in rate schools under section 14 (2) of the\n    Act. I asked whether the words 'which is distinctive,' &c., taken\n    grammatically as limiting the prohibition of any religious\n    formulary, might be construed as allowing (subject, however, to the\n    other provisions of the Act) any religious formulary common to any\n    two denominations anywhere in England to be taught in such schools;\n    and if practically the limit could not be so extended, but would\n    have to be fixed according to the special circumstances of each\n    district, then what degree of general acceptance in a district\n    would exempt such a formulary from the prohibition? The answer to\n    this was as follows:--'It was understood, when clause 14 of the\n    Education Act was discussed in the House of Commons, that,\n    according to a well-known rule of interpreting Acts of Parliament,\n    \"denomination\" must be held to include \"denominations.\" When any\n    dispute is referred to the Education Department under the last\n    paragraph of section 16, it will be dealt with according to the\n    circumstances of the case.'\n\n    \"Upon my asking further if I might hence infer that the lawfulness\n    of teaching any religious formulary in a rate school would thus\n    depend _exclusively_ on local circumstances, and would\n    accordingly be so decided by the Education Department in case of\n    dispute, I was informed in explanation that 'their lordships''\n    letter was intended to convey to me that no general rule, beyond\n    that stated in the first paragraph of their letter, could at\n    present be laid down by them; and that their decision in each\n    particular case must depend on the special circumstances\n    accompanying it.\n\n    \"I think it would appear from this that it may yet be in many cases\n    both lawful and expedient to teach religious formularies in rate\n    schools. H. I.\n\n    \"Steyning, _November_ 5, 1870.\"\n\nOf course I do not mean to suggest that the editor of the _Guardian_\nis bound by the opinions of his correspondent; but I cannot help\nthinking that I do not misrepresent him, when I say that he also thinks\n\"that it may yet be, in many cases, both lawful and expedient to teach\nreligious formularies in rate schools under these circumstances.\"\n\nIt is not uncharitable, therefore, to assume that, the express words of\nthe Act of Parliament notwithstanding, all the sectaries who are\ntoiling so hard for seats in the London School Board have the lively\nhope of the gentleman from Steyning, that it may be \"both lawful and\nexpedient to teach religious formularies in rate schools;\" and that\nthey mean to do their utmost to bring this happy consummation about. [2]\n\nNow the pathetic emotion to which I have referred, as accompanying my\ncontemplations of the violent struggles of so many excellent persons,\nis caused by the circumstance that, so far as I can judge, their labour\nis in vain.\n\nSupposing that the London School Board contains, as it probably will\ndo, a majority of sectaries; and that they carry over the heads of a\nminority, a resolution that certain theological formulas, about which\nthey all happen to agree,--say, for example, the doctrine of the\nTrinity,--shall be taught in the schools. Do they fondly imagine that\nthe minority will not at once dispute their interpretation of the Act,\nand appeal to the Education Department to settle that dispute? And if\nso, do they suppose that any Minister of Education, who wants to keep\nhis place, will tighten boundaries which the Legislature has left\nloose; and will give a \"final decision\" which shall be offensive to\nevery Unitarian and to every Jew in the House of Commons, besides\ncreating a precedent which will afterwards be used to the injury of\nevery Nonconformist? The editor of the _Guardian_ tells his\nfriends sternly to resist every attempt to throw the burden of making\nthe teaching undenominational on the managers, and thanks me for the\nwarning I have given him. I return the thanks, with interest, for\n_his_ warning, as to the course the party he represents intends to\npursue, and for enabling me thus to draw public attention to a\nperfectly constitutional and effectual mode of checkmating them.\n\nAnd, in truth, it is wonderful to note the surprising entanglement into\nwhich our able editor gets himself in the struggle between his native\nhonesty and judgment and the necessities of his party. \"We could not\nsee,\" says he, \"in the face of this clause how a distinct\ndenominational tone could be honestly given to schools nominally\ngeneral.\" There speaks the honest and clear-headed man. \"Any attempt to\nthrow the burden of making the teaching undenominational must be\nsternly resisted.\" There speaks the advocate holding a brief for his\nparty. \"Verily,\" as Trinculo says, \"the monster hath two mouths:\" the\none, the forward mouth, tells us very justly that the teaching cannot\n\"honestly\" be \"distinctly denominational;\" but the other, the\nbackward mouth, asserts that it must by no manner of means be\n\"undenominational.\" Putting the two utterances together, I can only\ninterpret them to mean that the teaching is to be \"indistinctly\ndenominational.\" If the editor of the _Guardian_ had not shown\nsigns of anger at my use of the term \"theological fog,\" I should have\nbeen tempted to suppose it must have been what he had in his mind,\nunder the name of \"indistinct denominationalism.\" But this reading\nbeing plainly inadmissible, I can only imagine that he inculcates the\nteaching of formulas common to a number of denominations.\n\nBut the Education Department has already told the gentleman from\nSteyning that any such proceeding will be illegal. \"According to a\nwell-known rule of interpreting Acts of Parliament, 'denomination'\nwould be held to include 'denominations.'\" In other words, we must read\nthe Act thus:--\n\n\"No religious catechism or religious formulary which is distinctive of\nany particular _denominations_ shall be taught.\"\n\nThus we are really very much indebted to the editor of the _Guardian_\nand his correspondent. The one has shown us that the sectaries\nmean to try to get as much denominational teaching as they can agree\nupon among themselves, forced into the elementary schools; while the\nother has obtained a formal declaration from the Educational Department\nthat any such attempt will contravene the Act of Parliament, and that,\ntherefore, the unsectarian, law-abiding members of the School Boards\nmay safely reckon upon bringing down upon their opponents the heavy\nhand of the Minister of Education. [3]\n\nSo much for the powers of the School Boards. Limited as they seem to\nbe, it by no means follows that such Boards, if they are composed of\nintelligent and practical men, really more in earnest about education\nthan about sectarian squabbles, may not exert a very great amount of\ninfluence. And, from many circumstances, this is especially likely to\nbe the case with the London School Board, which, if it conducts itself\nwisely, may become a true educational parliaments as subordinate in\nauthority to the Minister of Education, theoretically, as the\nLegislature is to the Crown, and yet, like the Legislature, possessed\nof great practical authority. And I suppose that no Minister of\nEducation would be other than glad to have the aid of the deliberations\nof such a body, or fail to pay careful attention to its\nrecommendations.\n\nWhat, then, ought to be the nature and scope of the education which a\nSchool Board should endeavour to give to every child under its\ninfluence, and for which it should try to obtain the aid of the\nParliamentary grants? In my judgment it should include at least the\nfollowing kinds of instruction and of discipline:--\n\n1. Physical training and drill, as part of the regular business of the\nschool.\n\nIt is impossible to insist too much on the importance of this part\nof education for the children of the poor of great towns. All the\nconditions of their lives are unfavourable to their physical\nwell-being. They are badly lodged, badly housed, badly fed, and live\nfrom one year's end to another in bad air, without chance of a change.\nThey have no play-grounds; they amuse themselves with marbles and\nchuck-farthing, instead of cricket or hare-and-hounds; and if it were\nnot for the wonderful instinct which leads all poor children of tender\nyears to run under the feet of cab-horses whenever they can, I know not\nhow they would learn to use their limbs with agility.\n\nNow there is no real difficulty about teaching drill and the simpler\nkinds of gymnastics. It is done admirably well, for example, in the\nNorth Surrey Union schools; and a year or two ago when I had an\nopportunity of inspecting these schools, I was greatly struck with the\neffect of such training upon the poor little waifs and strays of\nhumanity, mostly picked out of the gutter, who are being made into\ncleanly, healthy, and useful members of society in that excellent\ninstitution.\n\nWhatever doubts people may entertain about the efficacy of natural\nselection, there can be none about artificial selection; and the\nbreeder who should attempt to make, or keep up, a fine stock of pigs,\nor sheep, under the conditions to which the children of the poor are\nexposed, would be the laughing-stock even of the bucolic mind.\nParliament has already done something in this direction by declining to\nbe an accomplice in the asphyxiation of school children. It refuses\nto make any grant to a school in which the cubical contents of the\nschool-room are inadequate to allow of proper respiration. I should\nlike to see it make another step in the same direction, and either\nrefuse to give a grant to a school in which physical training is not\na part of the programme, or, at any rate, offer to pay upon such\ntraining. If something of the kind is not done, the English physique,\nwhich has been, and is still, on the whole, a grand one, will become as\nextinct as the dodo in the great towns.\n\nAnd then the moral and intellectual effect of drill, as an introduction\nto, and aid of, all other sorts of training, must not be overlooked. If\nyou want to break in a colt, surely the first thing to do is to catch\nhim and get him quietly to face his trainer; to know his voice and bear\nhis hand; to learn that colts have something else to do with their\nheels than to kick them up whenever they feel so inclined; and to\ndiscover that the dreadful human figure has no desire to devour, or\neven to beat him, but that, in case of attention and obedience, he may\nhope for patting and even a sieve of oats.\n\nBut, your \"street Arabs,\" and other neglected poor children, are rather\nworse and wilder than colts; for the reason that the horse-colt has\nonly his animal instincts in him, and his mother, the mare, has been\nalways tender over him, and never came home drunk and kicked him in her\nlife; while the man-colt is inspired by that very real devil, perverted\nmanhood, and _his_ mother may have done all that and more. So, on\nthe whole, it may probably be even more expedient to begin your attempt\nto get at the higher nature of the child, than at that of the colt,\nfrom the physical side.\n\n2. Next in order to physical training I put the instruction of\nchildren, and especially of girls, in the elements of household work\nand of domestic economy; in the first place for their own sakes, and in\nthe second for that of their future employers.\n\nEvery one who knows anything of the life of the English poor is aware\nof the misery and waste caused by their want of knowledge of domestic\neconomy, and by their lack of habits of frugality and method. I suppose\nit is no exaggeration to say that a poor Frenchwoman would make the\nmoney which the wife of a poor Englishman spends in food go twice as\nfar, and at the same time turn out twice as palatable a dinner. Why\nEnglishmen, who are so notoriously fond of good living, should be so\nhelplessly incompetent in the art of cookery, is one of the great\nmysteries of nature; but from the varied abominations of the railway\nrefreshment-rooms to the monotonous dinners of the poor, English\nfeeding is either wasteful or nasty, or both.\n\nAnd as to domestic service, the groans of the housewives of England\nascend to heaven! In five cases out of six the girl who takes a\n\"place\" has to be trained by her mistress in the first rudiments of\ndecency and order; and it is a mercy if she does not turn up her nose\nat anything like the mention of an honest and proper economy. Thousands\nof young girls are said to starve, or worse, yearly in London; and at\nthe same time thousands of mistresses of households are ready to pay\nhigh wages for a decent housemaid, or cook, or a fair workwoman; and\ncan by no means get what they want.\n\nSurely, if the elementary schools are worth anything, they may put an\nend to a state of things which is demoralising the poor, while it is\nwasting the lives of those better off in small worries and annoyances.\n\n3. But the boys and girls for whose education the School Boards have to\nprovide, have not merely to discharge domestic duties, but each of them\nis a member of a social and political organisation of great complexity,\nand has, in future life, to fit himself into that organisation, or be\ncrushed by it. To this end it is surely needful, not only that they\nshould be made acquainted with the elementary laws of conduct, but that\ntheir affections should be trained, so as to love with all their hearts\nthat conduct which tends to the attainment of the highest good for\nthemselves and their fellow men, and to hate with all their hearts that\nopposite course of action which is fraught with evil.\n\nSo far as the laws of conduct are determined by the intellect, I\napprehend that they belong to science, and to that part of science\nwhich is called morality. But the engagement of the affections in\nfavour of that particular kind of conduct which we call good, seems to\nme to be something quite beyond mere science. And I cannot but think\nthat it, together with the awe and reverence, which have no kinship\nwith base fear, but arise whenever one tries to pierce below the\nsurface of things, whether they be material or spiritual, constitutes\nall that has any unchangeable reality in religion.\n\nAnd just as I think it would be a mistake to confound the science,\nmorality, with the affection, religion; so do I conceive it to be a\nmost lamentable and mischievous error, that the science, theology, is\nso confounded in the minds of many--indeed, I might say, of the\nmajority of men.\n\nI do not express any opinion as to whether theology is a true science,\nor whether it does not come under the apostolic definition of \"science\nfalsely so called;\" though I may be permitted to express the belief\nthat if the Apostle to whom that much misapplied phrase is due could\nmake the acquaintance of much of modern theology, he would not hesitate\na moment in declaring that it is exactly what he meant the words to\ndenote.\n\nBut it is at any rate conceivable, that the nature of the Deity, and\nhis relations to the universe, and more especially to mankind, are\ncapable of being ascertained, either inductively or deductively, or by\nboth processes. And, if they have been ascertained, then a body of\nscience has been formed which is very properly called theology.\n\nFurther, there can be no doubt that affection for the Being thus\ndefined and described by theologic science would be properly termed\nreligion; but it would not be the whole of religion. The affection for\nthe ethical ideal defined by moral science would claim equal if not\nsuperior rights. For suppose theology established the existence of an\nevil deity--and some theologies, even Christian ones, have come very\nnear this,--is the religious affection to be transferred from the\nethical ideal to any such omnipotent demon? I trow not. Better a\nthousand times that the human race should perish under his thunderbolts\nthan it should say, \"Evil, be thou my good.\"\n\nThere is nothing new, that I know of, in this statement of the\nrelations of religion with the science of morality on the one hand and\nthat of theology on the other. But I believe it to be altogether true,\nand very needful, at this time, to be clearly and emphatically\nrecognised as such, by those who have to deal with the education\nquestion.\n\nWe are divided into two parties--the advocates of so-called\n\"religious\" teaching on the one hand, and those of so-called \"secular\"\nteaching on the other. And both parties seem to me to be not only\nhopelessly wrong, but in such a position that if either succeeded\ncompletely, it would discover, before many years were over, that it had\nmade a great mistake and done serious evil to the cause of education.\n\nFor, leaving aside the more far-seeing minority on each side, what\nthe \"religious\" party is crying for is mere theology, under the name\nof religion; while the \"secularists\" have unwisely and wrongfully\nadmitted the assumption of their opponents, and demand the abolition\nof all \"religious\" teaching, when they only want to be free\nof theology--Burning your ship to get rid of the cockroaches!\n\nBut my belief is, that no human being, and no society composed of human\nbeings, ever did, or ever will, come to much, unless their conduct was\ngoverned and guided by the love of some ethical ideal. Undoubtedly,\nyour gutter child may be converted by mere intellectual drill into \"the\nsubtlest of all the beasts of the field;\" but we know what has become\nof the original of that description, and there is no need to increase\nthe number of those who imitate him successfully without being aided by\nthe rates. And if I were compelled to choose for one of my own\nchildren, between a school in which real religious instruction is\ngiven, and one without it, I should prefer the former, even though the\nchild might have to take a good deal of theology with it. Nine-tenths\nof a dose of bark is mere half-rotten wood; but one swallows it for the\nsake of the particles of quinine, the beneficial effect of which may be\nweakened, but is not destroyed, by the wooden dilution, unless in a few\ncases of exceptionally tender stomachs.\n\nHence, when the great mass of the English people declare that they want\nto have the children in the elementary schools taught the Bible, and\nwhen it is plain from the terms of the Act, the debates in and out\nof Parliament, and especially the emphatic declarations of the\nVice-President of the Council, that it was intended that such\nBible-reading should be permitted, unless good cause for prohibiting it\ncould be shown, I do not see what reason there is for opposing that\nwish. Certainly, I, individually, could with no shadow of consistency\noppose the teaching of the children of other people to do that which my\nown children are taught to do. And, even if the reading the Bible were\nnot, as I think it is, consonant with political reason and justice, and\nwith a desire to act in the spirit of the education measure, I am\ndisposed to think it might still be well to read that book in the\nelementary schools.\n\nI have always been strongly in favour of secular education, in the\nsense of education without theology; but I must confess I have been no\nless seriously perplexed to know by what practical measures the\nreligious feeling, which is the essential basis of conduct, was to be\nkept up, in the present utterly chaotic state of opinion on these\nmatters, without the use of the Bible. The Pagan moralists lack life\nand colour, and even the noble Stoic, Marcus Antonius, is too high and\nrefined for an ordinary child. Take the Bible as a whole; make the\nseverest deductions which fair criticism can dictate for shortcomings\nand positive errors; eliminate, as a sensible lay-teacher would do, if\nleft to himself, all that it is not desirable for children to occupy\nthemselves with; and there still remains in this old literature a vast\nresiduum of moral beauty and grandeur. And then consider the great\nhistorical fact that, for three centuries, this book has been woven\ninto the life of all that is best and noblest in English history; that\nit has become the national epic of Britain, and is as familiar to noble\nand simple, from John-o'-Groat's House to Land's End, as Dante and\nTasso once were to the Italians; that it is written in the noblest and\npurest English, and abounds in exquisite beauties of mere literary\nform; and, finally, that it forbids the veriest hind who never left his\nvillage to be ignorant of the existence of other countries and other\ncivilisations, and of a great past, stretching back to the furthest\nlimits of the oldest nations in the world. By the study of what other\nbook could children be so much humanised and made to feel that each\nfigure in that vast historical procession fills, like themselves, but a\nmomentary space in the interval between two eternities; and earns the\nblessings or the curses of all time, according to its effort to do good\nand hate evil, even as they also are earning their payment for their\nwork?\n\nOn the whole, then, I am in favour of reading the Bible, with such\ngrammatical, geographical, and historical explanations by a lay-teacher\nas may be needful, with rigid exclusion of any further theological\nteaching than that contained in the Bible itself. And in stating what\nthis is, the teacher would do well not to go beyond the precise words\nof the Bible; for if he does, he will, in the first place, undertake a\ntask beyond his strength, seeing that all the Jewish and Christian\nsects have been at work upon that subject for more than two thousand\nyears, and have not yet arrived, and are not in the least likely to\narrive, at an agreement; and, in the second place, he will certainly\nbegin to teach something distinctively denominational, and thereby come\ninto violent collision with the Act of Parliament.\n\n4. The intellectual training to be given in the elementary schools must\nof course, in the first place, consist in learning to use the means of\nacquiring knowledge, or reading, writing, and arithmetic; and it will\nbe a great matter to teach reading so completely that the act shall\nhave become easy and pleasant. If reading remains \"hard,\" that\naccomplishment will not be much resorted to for instruction, and still\nless for amusement--which last is one of its most valuable uses to\nhard-worked people. But along with a due proficiency in the use of the\nmeans of learning, a certain amount of knowledge, of intellectual\ndiscipline, and of artistic training should be conveyed in the\nelementary schools; and in this direction--for reasons which I am\nafraid to repeat, having urged them so often--I can conceive no\nsubject-matter of education so appropriate and so important as the\nrudiments of physical science, with drawing, modelling, and singing.\nNot only would such teaching afford the best possible preparation for\nthe technical schools about which so much is now said, but the\norganisation for carrying it into effect already exists. The Science\nand Art Department, the operations of which have already attained\nconsiderable magnitude, not only offers to examine and pay the results\nof such examination in elementary science and art, but it provides what\nis still more important, viz. a means of giving children of high\nnatural ability, who are just as abundant among the poor as among the\nrich, a helping hand. A good old proverb tells us that \"One should not\ntake a razor to cut a block:\" the razor is soon spoiled, and the block\nis not so well cut as it would be with a hatchet. But it is worse\neconomy to prevent a possible Watt from being anything but a stoker, or\nto give a possible Faraday no chance of doing anything but to bind\nbooks. Indeed, the loss in such cases of mistaken vocation has no\nmeasure; it is absolutely infinite and irreparable. And among the\narguments in favour of the interference of the State in education, none\nseems to be stronger than this--that it is the interest of every one\nthat ability should be neither wasted, nor misapplied, by any one: and,\ntherefore, that every one's representative, the State, is necessarily\nfulfilling the wishes of its constituents when it is helping the\ncapacities to reach their proper places.\n\nIt may be said that the scheme of education here sketched is too large\nto be effected in the time during which the children will remain at\nschool; and, secondly, that even if this objection did not exist, it\nwould cost too much.\n\nI attach no importance whatever to the first objection until the\nexperiment has been fairly tried. Considering how much catechism, lists\nof the kings of Israel, geography of Palestine, and the like, children\nare made to swallow now, I cannot believe there will be any difficulty\nin inducing them to go through the physical training, which is more\nthan half play; or the instruction in household work, or in those\nduties to one another and to themselves, which have a daily and hourly\npractical interest. That children take kindly to elementary science and\nart no one can doubt who has tried the experiment properly. And if\nBible-reading is not accompanied by constraint and solemnity, as if it\nwere a sacramental operation, I do not believe there is anything in\nwhich children take more pleasure. At least I know that some of the\npleasantest recollections of my childhood are connected with the\nvoluntary study of an ancient Bible which belonged to my grandmother.\nThere were splendid pictures in it, to be sure; but I recollect little\nor nothing about them save a portrait of the high priest in his\nvestments. What come vividly back on my mind are remembrances of my\ndelight in the histories of Joseph and of David; and of my keen\nappreciation of the chivalrous kindness of Abraham in his dealing with\nLot. Like a sudden flash there returns back upon me, my utter scorn of\nthe pettifogging meanness of Jacob, and my sympathetic grief over the\nheartbreaking lamentation of the cheated Esau, \"Hast thou not a\nblessing for me also, O my father?\" And I see, as in a cloud, pictures\nof the grand phantasmagoria of the Book of Revelation.\n\nI enumerate, as they issue, the childish impressions which come\ncrowding out of the pigeon-holes in my brain, in which they have lain\nalmost undisturbed for forty years. I prize them as an evidence that a\nchild of five or six years old, left to his own devices, may be deeply\ninterested in the Bible, and draw sound moral sustenance from it. And I\nrejoice that I was left to deal with the Bible alone; for if I had had\nsome theological \"explainer\" at my side, he might have tried, as such\ndo, to lessen my indignation against Jacob, and thereby have warped my\nmoral sense for ever; while the great apocalyptic spectacle of the\nultimate triumph of right and justice might have been turned to the\nbase purposes of a pious lampooner of the Papacy.\n\nAnd as to the second objection--costliness--the reply is, first, that\nthe rate and the Parliamentary grant together ought to be enough,\nconsidering that science and art teaching is already provided for; and,\nsecondly, that if they are not, it may be well for the educational\nparliament to consider what has become of those endowments which were\noriginally intended to be devoted, more or less largely, to the\neducation of the poor.\n\nWhen the monasteries were spoiled, some of their endowments were\napplied to the foundation of cathedrals; and in all such cases it was\nordered that a certain portion of the endowment should be applied to\nthe purposes of education. How much is so applied? Is that which may be\nso applied given to help the poor, who cannot pay for education, or\ndoes it virtually subsidise the comparatively rich, who can? How are\nChrist's Hospital and Alleyn's foundation securing their right\npurposes, or how far are they perverted into contrivances for affording\nrelief to the classes who can afford to pay for education? How-- But\nthis paper is already too long, and, if I begin, I may find it hard to\nstop asking questions of this kind, which after all are worthy only of\nthe lowest of Radicals.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] Notwithstanding Mr. Huxley's intentions, the Editor took upon\nhimself, in what seemed to him to be the public interest, to send an\nextract from this article to the newspapers--before the day of the\nelection of the School Board.--EDITOR of the _Contemporary Review_.\n\n[2] A passage in an article on the \"Working of the Education Act,\" in\nthe _Saturday Review_ for Nov. 19, 1870, completely justifies this\nanticipation of the line of action which the sectaries mean to take.\nAfter commending the Liverpool compromise, the writer goes on to say:--\n\n\"If this plan is fairly adopted in Liverpool, the fourteenth clause of\nthe Act will in effect be restored to its original form, and the\nmajority of the ratepayers in each district be permitted to decide to\nwhat denomination the school shall belong.\"\n\nIn a previous paragraph the writer speaks of a possible \"mistrust\" of\none another by the members of the Board, and seems to anticipate\n\"accusations of dishonesty.\" If any of the members of the Board adopt\nhis views, I think it highly probable that he may turn out to be a true\nprophet.\n\n[3] Since this paragraph was written, Mr. Forster, in speaking at the\nBirkbeck Institution, has removed all doubt as to what his \"final\ndecision\" will be in the case of such disputes being referred to\nhim:--\"I have the fullest confidence that in the reading and explaining\nof the Bible, what the children will be taught will be the great truths\nof Christian life and conduct, which all of us desire they should know,\nand that no effort will be made to cram into their poor little minds,\ntheological dogmas which their tender age prevents them from\nunderstanding.\"\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\nTECHNICAL EDUCATION\n\n[1877]\n\n\nAny candid observer of the phenomena of modern society will readily\nadmit that bores must be classed among the enemies of the human race;\nand a little consideration will probably lead him to the further\nadmission, that no species of that extensive genus of noxious creatures\nis more objectionable than the educational bore. Convinced as I am of\nthe truth of this great social generalisation, it is not without a\ncertain trepidation that I venture to address you on an educational\ntopic. For, in the course of the last ten years, to go back no farther,\nI am afraid to say how often I have ventured to speak of education,\nfrom that given in the primary schools to that which is to be had in\nthe universities and medical colleges; indeed, the only part of this\nwide region into which, as yet, I have not adventured is that into\nwhich I propose to intrude to-day.\n\nThus, I cannot but be aware that I am dangerously near becoming the\nthing which all men fear and fly. But I have deliberately elected to\nrun the risk. For when you did me the honour to ask me to address you,\nan unexpected circumstance had led me to occupy myself seriously with\nthe question of technical education; and I had acquired the conviction\nthat there are few subjects respecting which it is more important for\nall classes of the community to have clear and just ideas than this;\nwhile, certainly, there is none which is more deserving of attention by\nthe Working Men's Club and Institute Union.\n\nIt is not for me to express an opinion whether the considerations,\nwhich I am about to submit to you, will be proved by experience to be\njust or not, but I will do my best to make them clear. Among the many\ngood things to be found in Lord Bacon's works, none is more full of\nwisdom than the saying that \"truth more easily comes out of error than\nout of confusion.\" Clear and consecutive wrong-thinking is the next\nbest thing to right-thinking; so that, if I succeed in clearing your\nideas on this topic, I shall have wasted neither your time nor my own.\n\n\"Technical education,\" in the sense in which the term is ordinarily\nused, and in which I am now employing it, means that sort of education\nwhich is specially adapted to the needs of men whose business in life\nit is to pursue some kind of handicraft; it is, in fact, a fine\nGreco-Latin equivalent for what in good vernacular English would be\ncalled \"the teaching of handicrafts.\" And probably, at this stage of\nour progress, it may occur to many of you to think of the story of the\ncobbler and his last, and to say to yourselves, though you will be too\npolite to put the question openly to me, What does the speaker know\npractically about this matter? What is his handicraft? I think the\nquestion is a very proper one, and unless I were prepared to answer it,\nI hope satisfactorily, I should have chosen some other theme.\n\nThe fact is, I am, and have been, any time these thirty years, a man\nwho works with his hands--a handicraftsman. I do not say this in the\nbroadly metaphorical sense in which fine gentlemen, with all the\ndelicacy of Agag about them, trip to the hustings about election time,\nand protest that they too are working men. I really mean my words to be\ntaken in their direct, literal, and straightforward sense. In fact, if\nthe most nimble-fingered watchmaker among you will come to my workshop,\nhe may set me to put a watch together, and I will set him to dissect,\nsay, a blackbeetle's nerves. I do not wish to vaunt, but I am inclined\nto think that I shall manage my job to his satisfaction sooner than he\nwill do his piece of work to mine.\n\nIn truth, anatomy, which is my handicraft, is one of the most difficult\nkinds of mechanical labour, involving, as it does, not only lightness\nand dexterity of hand, but sharp eyes and endless patience. And you\nmust not suppose that my particular branch of science is especially\ndistinguished for the demand it makes upon skill in manipulation. A\nsimilar requirement is made upon all students of physical science. The\nastronomer, the electrician, the chemist, the mineralogist, the\nbotanist, are constantly called upon to perform manual operations of\nexceeding delicacy. The progress of all branches of physical science\ndepends upon observation, or on that artificial observation which is\ntermed experiment, of one kind or another; and, the farther we advance,\nthe more practical difficulties surround the investigation of the\nconditions of the problems offered to us; so that mobile and yet steady\nhands, guided by clear vision, are more and more in request in the\nworkshops of science.\n\nIndeed, it has struck me that one of the grounds of that sympathy\nbetween the handicraftsmen of this country and the men of science, by\nwhich it has so often been my good fortune to profit, may, perhaps, lie\nhere. You feel and we feel that, among the so-called learned folks, we\nalone are brought into contact with tangible facts in the way that you\nare. You know well enough that it is one thing to write a history of\nchairs in general, or to address a poem to a throne, or to speculate\nabout the occult powers of the chair of St. Peter; and quite another\nthing to make with your own hands a veritable chair, that will stand\nfair and square, and afford a safe and satisfactory resting-place to a\nframe of sensitiveness and solidity.\n\nSo it is with us, when we look out from our scientific handicrafts upon\nthe doings of our learned brethren, whose work is untrammelled by\nanything \"base and mechanical,\" as handicrafts used to be called when\nthe world was younger, and, in some respects, less wise than now. We\ntake the greatest interest in their pursuits; we are edified by their\nhistories and are charmed with their poems, which sometimes illustrate\nso remarkably the powers of man's imagination; some of us admire and\neven humbly try to follow them in their high philosophical excursions,\nthough we know the risk of being snubbed by the inquiry whether\ngrovelling dissectors of monkeys and blackbeetles can hope to enter\ninto the empyreal kingdom of speculation. But still we feel that our\nbusiness is different; humbler if you will, though the diminution of\ndignity is, perhaps, compensated by the increase of reality; and that\nwe, like you, have to get our work done in a region where little\navails, if the power of dealing with practical tangible facts is\nwanting. You know that clever talk touching joinery will not make a\nchair; and I know that it is of about as much value in the physical\nsciences. Mother Nature is serenely obdurate to honeyed words; only\nthose who understand the ways of things, and can silently and\neffectually handle them, get any good out of her.\n\nAnd now, having, as I hope, justified my assumption of a place among\nhandicraftsmen, and put myself right with you as to my qualification,\nfrom practical knowledge, to speak about technical education, I will\nproceed to lay before you the results of my experience as a teacher of\na handicraft, and tell you what sort of education I should think best\nadapted for a boy whom one wanted to make a professional anatomist.\n\nI should say, in the first place, let him have a good English\nelementary education. I do not mean that he shall be able to pass in\nsuch and such a standard--that may or may not be an equivalent\nexpression--but that his teaching shall have been such as to have given\nhim command of the common implements of learning and to have created a\ndesire for the things of the understanding.\n\nFurther, I should like him to know the elements of physical science,\nand especially of physics and chemistry, and I should take care that\nthis elementary knowledge was real. I should like my aspirant to be\nable to read a scientific treatise in Latin, French, or German, because\nan enormous amount of anatomical knowledge is locked up in those\nlanguages. And especially, I should require some ability to draw--I do\nnot mean artistically, for that is a gift which may be cultivated but\ncannot be learned, but with fair accuracy. I will not say that\neverybody can learn, even this; for the negative development of the\nfaculty of drawing in some people is almost miraculous. Still\neverybody, or almost everybody, can learn to write; and, as writing is\na kind of drawing, I suppose that the majority of the people who say\nthey cannot draw, and give copious evidence of the accuracy of their\nassertion, could draw, after a fashion, if they tried. And that \"after\na fashion\" would be better than nothing for my purposes.\n\nAbove all things, let my imaginary pupil have preserved the freshness\nand vigour of youth in his mind as well as his body. The educational\nabomination of desolation of the present day is the stimulation of\nyoung people to work at high pressure by incessant competitive\nexaminations. Some wise man (who probably was not an early riser) has\nsaid of early risers in general, that they are conceited all the\nforenoon and stupid all the afternoon. Now whether this is true of\nearly risers in the common acceptation of the word or not, I will not\npretend to say; but it is too often true of the unhappy children who\nare forced to rise too early in their classes. They are conceited all\nthe forenoon of life, and stupid all its afternoon. The vigour and\nfreshness, which should have been stored up for the purposes of the\nhard struggle for existence in practical life, have been washed out of\nthem by precocious mental debauchery--by book gluttony and lesson\nbibbing. Their faculties are worn out by the strain put upon their\ncallow brains, and they are demoralised by worthless childish triumphs\nbefore the real work of life begins. I have no compassion for sloth,\nbut youth has more need for intellectual rest than age; and the\ncheerfulness, the tenacity of purpose, the power of work which make\nmany a successful man what he is, must often be placed to the credit,\nnot of his hours of industry, but to that of his hours of idleness, in\nboyhood. Even the hardest worker of us all, if he has to deal with\nanything above mere details, will do well, now and again, to let his\nbrain lie fallow for a space. The next crop of thought will certainly\nbe all the fuller in the ear and the weeds fewer.\n\nThis is the sort of education which I should like any one who was going\nto devote himself to my handicraft to undergo. As to knowing anything\nabout anatomy itself, on the whole I would rather he left that alone\nuntil he took it up seriously in my laboratory. It is hard work enough\nto teach, and I should not like to have superadded to that the possible\nneed of un-teaching.\n\nWell, but, you will say, this is Hamlet with the Prince of Denmark left\nout; your \"technical education\" is simply a good education, with more\nattention to physical science, to drawing, and to modern languages than\nis common, and there is nothing specially technical about it.\n\nExactly so; that remark takes us straight to the heart of what I have\nto say; which is, that, in my judgment, the preparatory education of\nthe handicraftsman ought to have nothing of what is ordinarily\nunderstood by \"technical\" about it.\n\nThe workshop is the only real school for a handicraft. The education\nwhich precedes that of the workshop should be entirely devoted to the\nstrengthening of the body, the elevation of the moral faculties, and\nthe cultivation of the intelligence; and, especially, to the imbuing\nthe mind with a broad and clear view of the laws of that natural world\nwith the components of which the handicraftsman will have to deal. And,\nthe earlier the period of life at which the handicraftsman has to enter\ninto actual practice of his craft, the more important is it that he\nshould devote the precious hours of preliminary education to things of\nthe mind, which have no direct and immediate bearing on his branch of\nindustry, though they lie at the foundation of all realities.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow let me apply the lessons I have learned from my handicraft to\nyours. If any of you were obliged to take an apprentice, I suppose you\nwould like to get a good healthy lad, ready and willing to learn,\nhandy, and with his fingers not all thumbs, as the saying goes. You\nwould like that he should read, write, and cipher well; and, if you\nwere an intelligent master, and your trade involved the application of\nscientific principles, as so many trades do, you would like him to know\nenough of the elementary principles of science to understand what was\ngoing on. I suppose that, in nine trades out of ten, it would be useful\nif he could draw; and many of you must have lamented your inability to\nfind out for yourselves what foreigners are doing or have done. So that\nsome knowledge of French and German might, in many cases, be very\ndesirable.\n\nSo it appears to me that what you want is pretty much what I want; and\nthe practical question is, How you are to get what you need, under the\nactual limitations and conditions of life of handicraftsmen in this\ncountry?\n\nI think I shall have the assent both of the employers of labour and of\nthe employed as to one of these limitations; which is, that no scheme\nof technical education is likely to be seriously entertained which will\ndelay the entrance of boys into working life, or prevent them from\ncontributing towards their own support, as early as they do at present.\nNot only do I believe that any such scheme could not be carried out,\nbut I doubt its desirableness, even if it were practicable.\n\nThe period between childhood and manhood is full of difficulties and\ndangers, under the most favourable circumstances; and, even among the\nwell-to-do, who can afford to surround their children with the most\nfavourable conditions, examples of a career ruined, before it has well\nbegun, are but too frequent. Moreover, those who have to live by labour\nmust be shaped to labour early. The colt that is left at grass too long\nmakes but a sorry draught-horse, though his way of life does not bring\nhim within the reach of artificial temptations. Perhaps the most\nvaluable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the\nthing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or\nnot; it is the first lesson that ought to be learned; and, however\nearly a man's training begins, it is probably the last lesson that he\nlearns thoroughly.\n\nThere is another reason, to which I have already adverted, and which I\nwould reiterate, why any extension of the time devoted to ordinary\nschoolwork is undesirable. In the newly-awakened zeal for education, we\nrun some risk of forgetting the truth that while under-instruction is a\nbad thing, over-instruction may possibly be a worse.\n\nSuccess in any kind of practical life is not dependent solely, or\nindeed chiefly, upon knowledge. Even in the learned professions,\nknowledge alone, is of less consequence than people are apt to suppose.\nAnd, if much expenditure of bodily energy is involved in the day's\nwork, mere knowledge is of still less importance when weighed against\nthe probable cost of its acquirement. To do a fair day's work with his\nhands, a man needs, above all things, health, strength, and the\npatience and cheerfulness which, if they do not always accompany these\nblessings, can hardly in the nature of things exist without them; to\nwhich we must add honesty of purpose and a pride in doing what is done\nwell.\n\nA good handicraftsman can get on very well without genius, but he will\nfare badly without a reasonable share of that which is a more useful\npossession for workaday life, namely, mother-wit; and he will be all\nthe better for a real knowledge, however limited, of the ordinary laws\nof nature, and especially of those which apply to his own business.\n\nInstruction carried so far as to help the scholar to turn his store of\nmother-wit to account, to acquire a fair amount of sound elementary\nknowledge, and to use his hands and eyes; while leaving him fresh,\nvigorous, and with a sense of the dignity of his own calling, whatever\nit may be, if fairly and honestly pursued, cannot fail to be of\ninvaluable service to all those who come under its influence.\n\nBut, on the other hand, if school instruction is carried so far as to\nencourage bookishness; if the ambition of the scholar is directed, not\nto the gaining of knowledge, but to the being able to pass examinations\nsuccessfully; especially if encouragement is given to the mischievous\ndelusion that brainwork is, in itself, and apart from its quality, a\nnobler or more respectable thing than handiwork--such education may be\na deadly mischief to the workman, and lead to the rapid ruin of the\nindustries it is intended to serve.\n\nI know that I am expressing the opinion of some of the largest as well\nas the most enlightened employers of labour, when I say that there is a\nreal danger that, from the extreme of no education, we may run to the\nother extreme of over-education of handicraftsmen. And I apprehend that\nwhat is true for the ordinary hand-worker is true for the foreman.\nActivity, probity, knowledge of men, ready mother-wit, supplemented by\na good knowledge of the general principles involved in his business,\nare the making of a good foreman. If he possess these qualities, no\namount of learning will fit him better for his position; while the\ncourse of life and the habit of mind required for the attainment of\nsuch learning may, in various direct and indirect ways, act as direct\ndisqualifications for it.\n\nKeeping in mind, then, that the two things to be avoided are, the delay\nof the entrance of boys into practical life, and the substitution of\nexhausted bookworms for shrewd, handy men, in our works and factories,\nlet us consider what may be wisely and safely attempted in the way of\nimproving the education of the handicraftsman.\n\nFirst, I look to the elementary schools now happily established all\nover the country. I am not going to criticise or find fault with them;\non the contrary, their establishment seems to me to be the most\nimportant and the most beneficial result of the corporate action of the\npeople in our day. A great deal is said of British interests just now,\nbut, depend upon it, that no Eastern difficulty needs our intervention\nas a nation so seriously, as the putting down both the Bashi-Bazouks of\nignorance and the Cossacks of sectarianism at home. What has already\nbeen achieved in these directions is a great thing; you must have lived\nsome time to know how great. An education, better in its processes,\nbetter in its substance, than that which was accessible to the great\nmajority of well-to-do Britons a quarter of a century ago, is now\nobtainable by every child in the land. Let any man of my age go into an\nordinary elementary school, and unless he was unusually fortunate in\nhis youth, he will tell you that the educational method, the\nintelligence, patience, and good temper on the teacher's part, which\nare now at the disposal of the veriest waifs and wastrels of society,\nare things of which he had no experience in those costly, middle-class\nschools, which were so ingeniously contrived as to combine all the\nevils and shortcomings of the great public schools with none of their\nadvantages. Many a man, whose so-called education cost a good deal of\nvaluable money and occupied many a year of invaluable time, leaves the\ninspection of a well-ordered elementary school devoutly wishing that,\nin his young days, he had had the chance of being as well taught as\nthese boys and girls are.\n\nBut while in view of such an advance in general education, I willingly\nobey the natural impulse to be thankful, I am not willing altogether to\nrest. I want to see instruction in elementary science and in art more\nthoroughly incorporated in the educational system. At present, it is\nbeing administered by driblets, as if it were a potent medicine, \"a few\ndrops to be taken occasionally in a teaspoon.\" Every year I notice that\nthat earnest and untiring friend of yours and of mine, Sir John\nLubbock, stirs up the Government of the day in the House of Commons on\nthis subject; and also that, every year, he, and the few members of the\nHouse of Commons, such as Dr. Playfair, who sympathise with him, are\nmet with expressions of warm admiration for science in general, and\nreasons at large for doing nothing in particular. But now that Mr.\nForster, to whom the education of the country owes so much, has\nannounced his conversion to the right faith, I begin to hope that,\nsooner or later, things will mend.\n\nI have given what I believe to be a good reason for the assumption,\nthat the keeping at school of boys, who are to be handicraftsmen,\nbeyond the age of thirteen or fourteen is neither practicable nor\ndesirable; and, as it is quite certain, that, with justice to other and\nno less important branches of education, nothing more than the\nrudiments of science and art teaching can be introduced into elementary\nschools, we must seek elsewhere for a supplementary training in these\nsubjects, and, if need be, in foreign languages, which may go on after\nthe workman's life has begun.\n\nThe means of acquiring the scientific and artistic part of this\ntraining already exists in full working order, in the first place, in\nthe classes of the Science and Art Department, which are, for the most\npart, held in the evening, so as to be accessible to all who choose to\navail themselves of them after working hours. The great advantage of\nthese classes is that they bring the means of instruction to the doors\nof the factories and workshops; that they are no artificial creations,\nbut by their very existence prove the desire of the people for them;\nand finally, that they admit of indefinite development in proportion as\nthey are wanted. I have often expressed the opinion, and I repeat it\nhere, that, during the eighteen years they have been in existence these\nclasses have done incalculable good; and I can say, of my own\nknowledge, that the Department spares no pains and trouble in trying to\nincrease their usefulness and ensure the soundness of their work.\n\nNo one knows better than my friend Colonel Donnelly, to whose clear\nviews and great administrative abilities so much of the successful\nworking of the science classes is due, that there is much to be done\nbefore the system can be said to be thoroughly satisfactory. The\ninstruction given needs to be made more systematic and especially more\npractical; the teachers are of very unequal excellence, and not a few\nstand much in need of instruction themselves, not only in the subject\nwhich they teach, but in the objects for which they teach. I dare say\nyou have heard of that proceeding, reprobated by all true sportsmen,\nwhich is called \"shooting for the pot.\" Well, there is such a thing as\n\"teaching for the pot\"--teaching, that is, not that your scholar may\nknow, but that he may count for payment among those who pass the\nexamination; and there are some teachers, happily not many, who have\nyet to learn that the examiners of the Department regard them as\npoachers of the worst description.\n\nWithout presuming in any way to speak in the name of the Department, I\nthink I may say, as a matter which has come under my own observation,\nthat it is doing its best to meet all these difficulties. It\nsystematically promotes practical instruction in the classes; it\naffords facilities to teachers who desire to learn their business\nthoroughly; and it is always ready to aid in the suppression of\npot-teaching.\n\nAll this is, as you may imagine, highly satisfactory to me. I see that\nspread of scientific education, about which I have so often permitted\nmyself to worry the public, become, for all practical purposes, an\naccomplished fact. Grateful as I am for all that is now being done, in\nthe same direction, in our higher schools and universities, I have\nceased to have any anxiety about the wealthier classes. Scientific\nknowledge is spreading by what the alchemists called a \"distillatio per\nascensum;\" and nothing now can prevent it from continuing to distil\nupwards and permeate English society, until, in the remote future,\nthere shall be no member of the legislature who does not know as much\nof science as an elementary school-boy; and even the heads of houses in\nour venerable seats of learning shall acknowledge that natural science\nis not merely a sort of University back-door through which inferior men\nmay get at their degrees. Perhaps this apocalyptic vision is a little\nwild; and I feel I ought to ask pardon for an outbreak of enthusiasm,\nwhich, I assure you, is not my commonest failing.\n\nI have said that the Government is already doing a great deal in aid of\nthat kind of technical education for handicraftsmen which, to my mind,\nis alone worth seeking. Perhaps it is doing as much as it ought to do,\neven in this direction. Certainly there is another kind of help of the\nmost important character, for which we may look elsewhere than to the\nGovernment. The great mass of mankind have neither the liking, nor the\naptitude, for either literary, or scientific, or artistic pursuits;\nnor, indeed, for excellence of any sort. Their ambition is to go\nthrough life with moderate exertion and a fair share of ease, doing\ncommon things in a common way. And a great blessing and comfort it is\nthat the majority of men are of this mind; for the majority of things\nto be done are common things, and are quite well enough done when\ncommonly done. The great end of life is not knowledge but action. What\nmen need is, as much knowledge as they can assimilate and organise into\na basis for action; give them more and it may become injurious. One\nknows people who are as heavy and stupid from undigested learning as\nothers are from over-fulness of meat and drink. But a small percentage\nof the population is born with that most excellent quality, a desire\nfor excellence, or with special aptitudes of some sort or another; Mr.\nGalton tells us that not more than one in four thousand may be expected\nto attain distinction, and not more than one in a million some share of\nthat intensity of instinctive aptitude, that burning thirst for\nexcellence, which is called genius.\n\nNow, the most important object of all educational schemes is to catch\nthese exceptional people, and turn them to account for the good of\nsociety. No man can say where they will crop up; like their opposites,\nthe fools and knaves, they appear sometimes in the palace, and\nsometimes in the hovel; but the great thing to be aimed at, I was\nalmost going to say the most important end of all social arrangements,\nis to keep these glorious sports of Nature from being either corrupted\nby luxury or starved by poverty, and to put them into the position in\nwhich they can do the work for which they are especially fitted.\n\nThus, if a lad in an elementary school showed signs of special\ncapacity, I would try to provide him with the means of continuing his\neducation after his daily working life had begun; if in the evening\nclasses he developed special capabilities in the direction of science\nor of drawing, I would try to secure him an apprenticeship to some\ntrade in which those powers would have applicability. Or, if he chose\nto become a teacher, he should have the chance of so doing. Finally, to\nthe lad of genius, the one in a million, I would make accessible the\nhighest and most complete training the country could afford. Whatever\nthat might cost, depend upon it the investment would be a good one. I\nweigh my words when I say that if the nation could purchase a potential\nWatt, or Davy, or Faraday, at the cost of a hundred thousand pounds\ndown, he would be dirt-cheap at the money. It is a mere commonplace and\neveryday piece of knowledge, that what these three men did has produced\nuntold millions of wealth, in the narrowest economical sense of the\nword.\n\nTherefore, as the sum and crown of what is to be done for technical\neducation, I look to the provision of a machinery for winnowing out the\ncapacities and giving them scope. When I was a member of the London\nSchool Board, I said, in the course of a speech, that our business was\nto provide a ladder, reaching from the gutter to the university, along\nwhich every child in the three kingdoms should have the chance of\nclimbing as far as he was fit to go. This phrase was so much bandied\nabout at the time, that, to say truth, I am rather tired of it; but I\nknow of no other which so fully expresses my belief, not only about\neducation in general, but about technical education in particular.\n\nThe essential foundation of all the organisation needed for the\npromotion of education among handicraftsmen will, I believe, exist in\nthis country, when every working lad can feel that society has done as\nmuch as lies in its power to remove all needless and artificial\nobstacles from his path; that there is no barrier, except such as\nexists in the nature of things, between himself and whatever place in\nthe social organisation he is fitted to fill; and, more than this,\nthat, if he has capacity and industry, a hand is held out to help him\nalong any path which is wisely and honestly chosen.\n\nI have endeavoured to point out to you that a great deal of such an\norganisation already exists; and I am glad to be able to add that there\nis a good prospect that what is wanting will, before long, be\nsupplemented.\n\nThose powerful and wealthy societies, the livery companies of the City\nof London, remembering that they are the heirs and representatives of\nthe trade guilds of the Middle Ages, are interesting themselves in the\nquestion. So far back as 1872 the Society of Arts organised a system of\ninstruction in the technology of arts and manufactures, for persons\nactually employed in factories and workshops, who desired to extend and\nimprove their knowledge of the theory and practice of their particular\navocations; [1] and a considerable subsidy, in aid of the efforts of\nthe Society, was liberally granted by the Clothworkers' Company. We\nhave here the hopeful commencement of a rational organisation for the\npromotion of excellence among handicraftsmen. Quite recently, other of\nthe livery companies have determined upon giving their powerful, and,\nindeed, almost boundless, aid to the improvement of the teaching of\nhandicrafts. They have already gone so far as to appoint a committee to\nact for them; and I betray no confidence in adding that, some time\nsince, the committee sought the advice and assistance of several\npersons, myself among the number.\n\nOf course I cannot tell you what may be the result of the deliberations\nof the committee; but we may all fairly hope that, before long, steps\nwhich will have a weighty and a lasting influence on the growth and\nspread of sound and thorough teaching among the handicraftsmen [2] of\nthis country will be taken by the livery companies of London.\n\n[This hope has been fully justified by the establishment of the Cowper\nStreet Schools, and that of the Central Institution of the City and\nGuilds of London Institute, September, 1881.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFootnotes:\n\n[1] See the _Programme_ for 1878, issued by the Society of Arts,\np. 14.\n\n[2] It is perhaps advisable to remark that the important question of\nthe professional education of managers of industrial works is not\ntouched in the foregoing remarks.\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nADDRESS ON BEHALF OF THE NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE PROMOTION OF\nTECHNICAL EDUCATION\n\n[1887.]\n\n\nMr. Mayor and Gentlemen,--It must be a matter of sincere satisfaction\nto those who, like myself, have for many years past been convinced of\nthe vital importance of technical education to this country to see that\nthat subject is now being taken up by some of the most important of our\nmanufacturing towns. The evidence which is afforded of the public\ninterest in the matter by such meetings as those at Liverpool and\nNewcastle, and, last but not least, by that at which I have the honour\nto be present to-day, may convince us all, I think, that the question\nhas passed out of the region of speculation into that of action. I need\nhardly say to any one here that the task which our Association\ncontemplates is not only one of primary importance--I may say of vital\nimportance--to the welfare of the country; but that it is one of great\nextent and of vast difficulty. There is a well-worn adage that those\nwho set out upon a great enterprise would do well to count the cost. I\nam not sure that this is always true. I think that some of the very\ngreatest enterprises in this world have been carried out successfully\nsimply because the people who undertook them did not count the cost;\nand I am much of opinion that, in this very case, the most instructive\nconsideration for us is the cost of doing nothing. But there is one\nthing that is perfectly certain, and it is that, in undertaking all\nenterprises, one of the most important conditions of success is to have\na perfectly clear comprehension of what you want to do--to have that\nbefore your minds before you set out, and from that point of view to\nconsider carefully the measures which are best adapted to the end.\n\nMr. Acland has just given you an excellent account of what is properly\nand strictly understood by technical education; but I venture to think\nthat the purpose of this Association may be stated in somewhat broader\nterms, and that the object we have in view is the development of the\nindustrial productivity of the country to the uttermost limits\nconsistent with social welfare. And you will observe that, in thus\nwidening the definition of our object, I have gone no further than the\nMayor in his speech, when he not obscurely hinted--and most justly\nhinted--that in dealing with this question there are other matters than\ntechnical education, in the strict sense, to be considered.\n\nIt would be extreme presumption on my part if I were to attempt to tell\nan audience of gentlemen intimately acquainted with all branches of\nindustry and commerce, such as I see before me, in what manner the\npractical details of the operations that we propose are to be carried\nout. I am absolutely ignorant both of trade and of commerce, and upon\nsuch matters I cannot venture to say a solitary word. But there is one\ndirection in which I think it possible I may be of service--not much\nperhaps, but still of some,--because this matter, in the first place,\ninvolves the consideration of methods of education with which it has\nbeen my business to occupy myself during the greater part of my life;\nand, in the second place, it involves attention to some of those broad\nfacts and laws of nature with which it has been my business to acquaint\nmyself to the best of my ability. And what I think may be possible is\nthis, that if I succeed in putting before you--as briefly as I can, but\nin clear and connected shape--what strikes me as the programme that we\nhave eventually to carry out, and what are the indispensable conditions\nof success, that that proceeding, whether the conclusions at which I\narrive be such as you approve or as you disapprove, will nevertheless\nhelp to clear the course. In this and in all complicated matters we\nmust remember a saying of Bacon, which may be freely translated thus:\n\"Consistent error is very often vastly more useful than muddle-headed\ntruth.\" At any rate, if there be any error in the conclusions I shall\nput before you, I will do my best to make the error perfectly clear and\nplain.\n\nNow, looking at the question of what we want to do in this broad and\ngeneral way, it appears to me that it is necessary for us, in the first\nplace, to amend and improve our system of primary education in such a\nfashion as will make it a proper preparation for the business of life.\nIn the second place, I think we have to consider what measures may best\nbe adopted for the development to its uttermost of that which may be\ncalled technical skill; and, in the third place, I think we have to\nconsider what other matters there are for us to attend to, what other\narrangements have to be kept carefully in sight in order that, while\npursuing these ends, we do not forget that which is the end of civil\nexistence, I mean a stable social state without which all other\nmeasures are merely futile, and, in effect, modes of going faster to\nruin.\n\nYou are aware--no people should know the fact better than Manchester\npeople--that, within the last seventeen years, a vast system of primary\neducation has been created and extended over the whole country. I had\nsome part in the original organisation of this system in London, and I\nam glad to think that, after all these years, I can look back upon that\nperiod of my life as perhaps the part of it least wasted.\n\nNo one can doubt that this system of primary education has done wonders\nfor our population; but, from our point of view, I do not think anybody\ncan doubt that it still has very considerable defects. It has the\ndefect which is common to all the educational systems which we have\ninherited--it is too bookish, too little practical. The child is\nbrought too little into contact with actual facts and things, and as\nthe system stands at present it constitutes next to no education of\nthose particular faculties which are of the utmost importance to\nindustrial life--I mean the faculty of observation, the faculty of\nworking accurately, of dealing with things instead of with words. I do\nnot propose to enlarge upon this topic, but I would venture to suggest\nthat there are one or two remedial measures which are imperatively\nneeded; indeed, they have already been alluded to by Mr. Acland. Those\nwhich strike me as of the greatest importance are two, and the first of\nthem is the teaching of drawing. In my judgment, there is no mode of\nexercising the faculty of observation and the faculty of accurate\nreproduction of that which is observed, no discipline which so readily\ntests error in these matters, as drawing properly taught. And by that I\ndo not mean artistic drawing; I mean figuring natural objects: making\nplans and sections, approaching geometrical rather than artistic\ndrawing. I do not wish to exaggerate, but I declare to you that, in my\njudgment, the child who has been taught to make an accurate elevation,\nplan and section of a pint pot has had an admirable training in\naccuracy of eye and hand. I am not talking about artistic education.\nThat is not the question. Accuracy is the foundation of everything\nelse, and instruction in artistic drawing is something which may be put\noff till a later stage. Nothing has struck me more in the course of my\nlife than the loss which persons, who are pursuing scientific knowledge\nof any kind, sustain from the difficulties which arise because they\nnever have been taught elementary drawing; and I am glad to say that in\nEton, a school of whose governing body I have the honour of being a\nmember, we some years ago made drawing imperative on the whole school.\n\nThe other matter in which we want some systematic and good teaching is\nwhat I have hardly a name for, but which may best be explained as a\nsort of developed object lessons such as Mr. Acland adverted to.\nAnybody who knows his business in science can make anything subservient\nto that purpose. You know it was said of Dean Swift that he could write\nan admirable poem upon a broomstick, and the man who has a real\nknowledge of science can make the commonest object in the world\nsubservient to an introduction to the principles and greater truths of\nnatural knowledge. It is in that way that your science must be taught\nif it is to be of real service. Do not suppose any amount of book work,\nany repetition by rote of catechisms and other abominations of that\nkind are of value for our object. That is mere wasting of time. But\ntake the commonest object and lead the child from that foundation to\nsuch truths of a higher order as may be within his grasp. With regard\nto drawing, I do not think there is any practical difficulty; but in\nrespect to the scientific object lessons you want teachers trained in a\nmanner different from that which now prevails.\n\nIf it is found practicable to add further training of the hand and eye\nby instruction in modelling or in simple carpentry, well and good. But\nI should stop at this point. The elementary schools are already charged\nwith quite as much as they can do properly; and I do not believe that\nany good can come of burdening them with special technical instruction.\nOut of that, I think, harm would come.\n\nNow let me pass to my second point, which is the development of\ntechnical skill. Everybody here is aware that at this present moment\nthere is hardly a branch of trade or of commerce which does not depend,\nmore or less directly, upon some department or other of physical\nscience, which does not involve, for its successful pursuit, reasoning\nfrom scientific data. Our machinery, our chemical processes or\ndyeworks, and a thousand operations which it is not necessary to\nmention, are all directly and immediately connected with science. You\nhave to look among your workmen and foremen for persons who shall\nintelligently grasp the modifications, based upon science, which are\nconstantly being introduced into these industrial processes. I do not\nmean that you want professional chemists, or physicists, or\nmathematicians, or the like, but you want people sufficiently familiar\nwith the broad principles which underlie industrial operations to be\nable to adapt themselves to new conditions. Such qualifications can\nonly be secured by a sort of scientific instruction which occupies a\nmidway place between those primary notions given in the elementary\nschools and those more advanced studies which would be carried out in\nthe technical schools.\n\nYou are aware that, at present, a very large machinery is in operation\nfor the purpose of giving this instruction. I don't refer merely to\nsuch work as is being done at Owens College here, for example, or at\nother local colleges. I allude to the larger operations of the Science\nand Art Department, with which I have been connected for a great many\nyears. I constantly hear a great many objections raised to the work of\nthe Science and Art Department. If you will allow me to say so, my\nconnection with that department--which, I am happy to say, remains, and\nwhich I am very proud of--is purely honorary; and, if it appeared to me\nto be right to criticise that department with merciless severity, the\nLord President, if he were inclined to resent my proceedings, could do\nnothing more than dismiss me. Therefore you may believe that I speak\nwith absolute impartiality. My impression is this, not that it is\nfaultless, nor that it has not various defects, nor that there are not\nsundry _lacunae_ which want filling up; but that, if we consider\nthe conditions under which the department works, we shall see that\ncertain defects are inseparable from those conditions. People talk of\nthe want of flexibility of the Department, of its being bound by strict\nrules. Now, will any man of common sense who has had anything to do\nwith the administration of public funds or knows the humour of the\nHouse of Commons on these matters--will any man who is in the smallest\ndegree acquainted with the practical working of State departments of\nany kind, imagine that such a department could be other than bound by\nminutely defined regulations? Can he imagine that the work of the\ndepartment should go on fairly and in such a manner as to be free from\njust criticism, unless it were bound by certain definite and fixed\nrules? I cannot imagine it.\n\nThe next objection of importance that I have heard commonly repeated is\nthat the teaching is too theoretical, that there is insufficient\npractical teaching. I venture to say that there is no one who has taken\nmore pains to insist upon the comparative uselessness of scientific\nteaching without practical work than I have; I venture to say that\nthere are no persons who are more cognisant of these defects in the\nwork of the Science and Art Department than those who administer it.\nBut those who talk in this way should acquaint themselves with the fact\nthat proper practical instruction is a matter of no small difficulty in\nthe present scarcity of properly taught teachers, that it is very\ncostly, and that, in some branches of science, there are other\ndifficulties which I won't allude to. But it is a matter of fact that,\nwherever it has been possible, practical teaching has been introduced,\nand has been made an essential element in examination; and no doubt if\nthe House of Commons would grant unlimited means, and if proper\nteachers were to hand, as thick as blackberries, there would not be\nmuch difficulty in organising a complete system of practical\ninstruction and examination ancillary to the present science classes.\nThose who quarrel with the present state of affairs would be better\nadvised if, instead of groaning over the shortcomings of the present\nsystem, they would put before themselves these two questions--Is it\npossible under the conditions to invent any better system? Is it\npossible under the conditions to enlarge the work of practical teaching\nand practical examination which is the one desire of those who\nadminister the department? That is all I have to say upon that subject.\n\nSupposing we have this teaching of what I may call intermediate\nscience, what we want next is technical instruction, in the strict\nsense of the word technical; I mean instruction in that kind of\nknowledge which is essential to the successful prosecution of the\nseveral branches of trade and industry. Now, the best way of obtaining\nthis end is a matter about which the most experienced persons entertain\nvery diverse opinions. I do not for one moment pretend to dogmatise\nabout it; I can only tell you what the opinion is that I have formed\nfrom hearing the views of those who are certainly best qualified to\njudge, from those who have tested the various methods of conveying this\ninstruction. I think we have before us three possibilities. We have, in\nthe first place, trade schools--I mean schools in which branches of\ntrade are taught. We have, in the next place, schools attached to\nfactories for the purpose of instructing young apprentices and others\nwho go there, and who aim at becoming intelligent workmen and capable\nforemen. We have, lastly, the system of day classes and evening\nclasses. With regard to the first there is this objection, that they\ncan be attended only by those who are not obliged to earn their bread,\nand consequently that they will reach only a very small fraction of the\npopulation. Moreover, the expense of trade schools is enormous, and\nthose who are best able to judge assure me that, inasmuch as the work\nwhich they do is not done under conditions of pecuniary success or\nfailure, it is apt to be too amateurish and speculative, and that it\ndoes not prepare the worker for the real conditions under which he will\nhave to carry out his work. In any case, the fact that the schools are\nvery expensive, and the fact that they are accessible only to a small\nportion of the population, seem to me to constitute a very serious\nobjection to them. I suppose the best of all possible organisations is\nthat of a school attached to a factory, where the employer has an\ninterest in seeing that the instruction given is of a thoroughly\npractical kind, and where the pupils pass gradually by successive\nstages to the position of actual workmen. Schools of this kind exist in\nvarious parts of the country, but it is obvious that they are not\nlikely to be reached by any large part of the population; so that it\nappears to me we are shut up practically to schools accessible to those\nwho are earning their bread, and in such cases they must be essentially\nevening classes. I am strongly of opinion that classes of this kind do\nan immense amount of good; that they have this admirable quality, that\nthey involve voluntary attendance, take no man out of his position, but\nenable any who chooses, to make the best of the position he happens to\noccupy.\n\nSuppose that all these things are desirable, what is the best way of\nobtaining them? I must confess that I have a strong prejudice in favour\nof carrying out undertakings of this kind, which at first, at any rate,\nmust be to a great extent tentative and experimental, by private\neffort. I don't believe that the man lives at this present time who is\ncompetent to organise a final system of technical education. I believe\nthat all attempts made in that direction must for many years to come be\nexperimental, and that we must get to success through a series of\nblunders. Now that work is far better performed by private enterprise\nthan in any other way. But there is another method which I think is\npermissible, and not only permissible but highly recommendable in this\ncase, and that is the method of allowing the locality itself in which\nany branch of industry is pursued to be its own judge of its own wants,\nand to tax itself under certain conditions for the purpose of carrying\nout any scheme of technical education adapted to its needs. I am aware\nthat there are many extreme theorists of the individualist school who\nhold that all this is very wicked and very wrong, and that by leaving\nthings to themselves they will get right. Well, my experience of the\nworld is that things left to themselves don't get right. I believe it\nto be sound doctrine that a municipality--and the State itself for that\nmatter--is a corporation existing for the benefit of its members, and\nthat here, as in all other cases, it is for the majority to determine\nthat which is for the good of the whole, and to act upon that. That is\nthe principle which underlies the whole theory of government in this\ncountry, and if it is wrong we shall have to go back a long way. But\nyou may ask me, \"This process of local taxation can only be carried out\nunder the authority of an Act of Parliament, and do you propose to let\nany municipality or any local authority have _carte blanche_ in\nthese matters; is the Legislature to allow it to tax the whole body of\nits members to any extent it pleases and for any purposes it pleases?\"\nI should reply, certainly not.\n\nLet me point out to you that at this present moment it passes the wit\nof man, so far as I know, to give a legal definition of technical\neducation. If you expect to have an Act of Parliament with a definition\nwhich shall include all that ought to be included, and exclude all that\nought to be excluded, I think you will have to wait a very long time. I\nimagine the whole matter is in a tentative state. You don't know what\nyou will be called upon to do, and so you must try and you must\nblunder. Under these circumstances it is obvious that there are two\nalternatives. One of these is to give a free hand to each locality.\nWell, it is within my knowledge that there are a good many people with\nwonderful, strange, and wild notions as to what ought to be done in\ntechnical education, and it is quite possible that in some places, and\nespecially in small places, where there are few persons who take an\ninterest in these things, you will have very remarkable projects put\nforth, and in that case the sole court of appeal for those taxpayers,\nwho did not approve of such projects, would be a court of law. I\nsuppose the judges would have to settle what is technical education.\nThat would not be an edifying process, I think, and certainly it would\nbe a very costly one. The other alternative is the principle adopted in\nthe bill of last year now abandoned. I don't say whether the bill was\nright or wrong in detail. I am dealing now only with the principle of\nthe bill, which appears to me to have been very often misunderstood. It\nhas been said that it gave the whole of technical education into the\nhands of the Science and Art Department. It appears to me nothing could\nbe more unfounded than that assertion. All I understand the Government\nproposed to do was to provide some authority who should have power to\nsay in case any scheme was proposed, \"Well, this comes within the four\ncorners of the Act of Parliament, work it as you like;\" or if it was an\nobviously questionable project, should take upon itself the\nresponsibility of saying, \"No, that is not what the Legislature\nintended; amend your scheme.\" There was no initiative, no control;\nthere was simply this power of giving authority to decide upon the\nmeaning of the Act of Parliament to a particular department of the\nState, whichever it might be; and it seems to me that that is a very\nmuch simpler and better process than relegating the whole question to\nthe law courts. I think that here, or anywhere else, people must be\nextremely sanguine if they suppose that the House of Commons and the\nHouse of Lords will ever dream of giving any local authority unlimited\npower to tax the inhabitants of a district for any object it pleases. I\nshould say that was not in the range of practical politics. Well, I put\nthat before you as a matter for your consideration.\n\nAnother very important point in this connection is the question of the\nsupply of teachers. I should say that is one of the greatest\ndifficulties which beset the whole problem before us. I do not wish in\nthe slightest degree to criticise the existing system of preparing\nteachers for ordinary school work. I have nothing to say about it. But\nwhat I do wish to say, and what I trust I may impress on your minds\nfirmly is this, that for the purpose of obtaining persons competent to\nteach science or to act as technical teachers, a different system must\nbe adopted. For this purpose a man must know what he is about\nthoroughly, and be able to deal with his subject as if it were the\nbusiness of his ordinary life. For this purpose, for the obtaining of\nteachers of science and of technical classes, the system of catching a\nboy or girl young, making a pupil teacher of him, compelling the poor\nlittle mortal to pour from his little bucket, into a still smaller\nbucket, that which has just been poured into it out of a big bucket;\nand passing him afterwards through the training college, where his life\nis devoted to filling the bucket from the pump from morning till night,\nwithout time for thought or reflection, is a system which should not\ncontinue. Let me assure you that it will not do for us, that you had\nbetter give the attempt up than try that system. I remember somewhere\nreading of an interview between the poet Southey and a good Quaker.\nSouthey was a man of marvellous powers of work. He had a habit of\ndividing his time into little parts each of which was filled up, and he\ntold the Quaker what he did in this hour and that, and so on through\nthe day until far into the night. The Quaker listened, and at the close\nsaid, \"Well, but, friend Southey, when dost thee think?\" The system\nwhich I am now adverting to is arraigned and condemned by putting that\nquestion to it. When does the unhappy pupil teacher, or over-drilled\nstudent of a training college, find any time to think? I am sure if I\nwere in their place I could not. I repeat, that kind of thing will not\ndo for science teachers. For science teachers must have knowledge, and\nknowledge is not to be acquired on these terms. The power of repetition\nis, but that is not knowledge. The knowledge which is absolutely\nrequisite in dealing with young children is the knowledge you possess,\nas you would know your own business, and which you can just turn about\nas if you were explaining to a boy a matter of everyday life.\n\nSo far as science teaching and technical education are concerned, the\nmost important of all things is to provide the machinery for training\nproper teachers. The Department of Science and Art has been at that\nwork for years and years, and though unable under present conditions to\ndo so much as could be wished, it has, I believe, already begun to\nleaven the lump to a very considerable extent. If technical education\nis to be carried out on the scale at present contemplated, this\nparticular necessity must be specially and most seriously provided for.\nAnd there is another difficulty, namely, that when you have got your\nscience or technical teacher it may not be easy to keep him. You have\neducated a man--a clever fellow very likely--on the understanding that\nhe is to be a teacher. But the business of teaching is not a very\nlucrative and not a very attractive one, and an able man who has had a\ngood training is under extreme temptations to carry his knowledge and\nhis skill to a better market, in which case you have had all your\ntrouble for nothing. It has often occurred to me that probably nothing\nwould be of more service in this matter than the creation of a number\nof not very large bursaries or exhibitions, to be gained by persons\nnominated by the authorities of the various science colleges and\nschools of the country--persons such as they thought to be well\nqualified for the teaching business--and to be held for a certain term\nof years, during which the holders should be bound to teach. I believe\nthat some measure of this kind would do more to secure a good supply of\nteachers than anything else. Pray note that I do not suggest that you\nshould try to get hold of good teachers by competitive examination.\nThat is not the best way of getting men of that special qualification.\nAn effectual method would be to ask professors and teachers of any\ninstitution to recommend men who, to their own knowledge, are worthy of\nsuch support, and are likely to turn it to good account.\n\nI trust I am not detaining you too long; but there remains yet one\nother matter which I think is of profound importance, perhaps of more\nimportance than all the rest, on which I earnestly beg to be permitted\nto say some few words. It is the need, while doing all these things, of\nkeeping an eye, and an anxious eye, upon those measures which are\nnecessary for the preservation of that stable and sound condition of\nthe whole social organism which is the essential condition of real\nprogress, and a chief end of all education. You will all recollect that\nsome time ago there was a scandal and a great outcry about certain\ncutlasses and bayonets which had been supplied to our troops and\nsailors. These warlike implements were polished as bright as rubbing\ncould make them; they were very well sharpened; they looked lovely. But\nwhen they were applied to the test of the work of war they broke and\nthey bent, and proved more likely to hurt the hand of him that used\nthem than to do any harm to the enemy. Let me apply that analogy to the\neffect of education, which is a sharpening and polishing of the mind.\nYou may develop the intellectual side of people as far as you like, and\nyou may confer upon them all the skill that training and instruction\ncan give; but, if there is not, underneath all that outside form and\nsuperficial polish, the firm fibre of healthy manhood and earnest\ndesire to do well, your labour is absolutely in vain.\n\nLet me further call your attention to the fact that the terrible battle\nof competition between the different nations of the world is no\ntransitory phenomenon, and does not depend upon this or that\nfluctuation of the market, or upon any condition that is likely to pass\naway. It is the inevitable result of that which takes place throughout\nnature and affects man's part of nature as much as any other--namely,\nthe struggle for existence, arising out of the constant tendency of all\ncreatures in the animated world to multiply indefinitely. It is that,\nif you look at it, which is at the bottom of all the great movements of\nhistory. It is that inherent tendency of the social organism to\ngenerate the causes of its own destruction, never yet counteracted,\nwhich has been at the bottom of half the catastrophes which have ruined\nStates. We are at present in the swim of one of those vast movements in\nwhich, with a population far in excess of that which we can feed, we\nare saved from a catastrophe, through the impossibility of feeding\nthem, solely by our possession of a fair share of the markets of the\nworld. And in order that that fair share may be retained, it is\nabsolutely necessary that we should be able to produce commodities\nwhich we can exchange with food-growing people, and which they will\ntake, rather than those of our rivals, on the ground of their greater\ncheapness or of their greater excellence. That is the whole story. And\nour course, let me say, is not actuated by mere motives of ambition or\nby mere motives of greed. Those doubtless are visible enough on the\nsurface of these great movements, but the movements themselves have far\ndeeper sources. If there were no such things as ambition and greed in\nthis world, the struggle for existence would arise from the same\ncauses.\n\nOur sole chance of succeeding in a competition, which must constantly\nbecome more and more severe, is that our people shall not only have the\nknowledge and the skill which are required, but that they shall have\nthe will and the energy and the honesty, without which neither\nknowledge nor skill can be of any permanent avail. This is what I mean\nby a stable social condition, because any other condition than this,\nany social condition in which the development of wealth involves the\nmisery, the physical weakness, and the degradation of the worker, is\nabsolutely and infallibly doomed to collapse. Your bayonets and\ncutlasses will break under your hand, and there will go on accumulating\nin society a mass of hopeless, physically incompetent, and morally\ndegraded people, who are, as it were, a sort of dynamite which, sooner\nor later, when its accumulation becomes sufficient and its tension\nintolerable, will burst the whole fabric.\n\nI am quite aware that the problem which I have put before you and which\nyou know as much about as I do, and a great deal more probably, is one\nextremely difficult to solve. I am fully aware that one great factor in\nindustrial success is reasonable cheapness of labour. That has been\npointed out over and over again, and is in itself an axiomatic\nproposition. And it seems to me that of all the social questions which\nface us at this present time, the most serious is how to steer a clear\ncourse between the two horns of an obvious dilemma. One of these is the\nconstant tendency of competition to lower wages beyond a point at which\nman can remain man--below a point at which decency and cleanliness and\norder and habits of morality and justice can reasonably be expected to\nexist. And the other horn of the dilemma is the difficulty of\nmaintaining wages above this point consistently with success in\nindustrial competition. I have not the remotest conception how this\nproblem will eventually work itself out; but of this I am perfectly\nconvinced, that the sole course compatible with safety lies between the\ntwo extremes; between the Scylla of successful industrial production\nwith a degraded population, on the one side, and the Charybdis of a\npopulation, maintained in a reasonable and decent state, with failure\nin industrial competition, on the other side. Having this strong\nconviction, which, indeed, I imagine must be that of every person who\nhas ever thought seriously about these great problems, I have ventured\nto put it before you in this bare and almost cynical fashion because it\nwill justify the strong appeal, which I make to all concerned in this\nwork of promoting industrial education, to have a care, at the same\ntime, that the conditions of industrial life remain those in which the\nphysical energies of the population may be maintained at a proper\nlevel; in which their moral state may be cared for; in which there may\nbe some rays of hope and pleasure in their lives; and in which the sole\nprospect of a life of labour may not be an old age of penury.\n\nThese are the chief suggestions I have to offer to you, though I have\nomitted much that I should like to have said, had time permitted. It\nmay be that some of you feel inclined to look upon them as the Utopian\ndreams of a student. If there be such, let me tell you that there are,\nto my knowledge, manufacturing towns in this country, not one-tenth the\nsize, or boasting one-hundredth part of the wealth, of Manchester, in\nwhich I do not say that the programme that I have put before you is\ncompletely carried out, but in which, at any rate, a wise and\nintelligent effort had been made to realise it, and in which the main\nparts of the programme are in course of being worked out. This is not\nthe first time that I have had the privilege and pleasure of addressing\na Manchester audience. I have often enough, before now, thrown myself\nwith entire confidence upon the hard-headed intelligence and the very\nsoft-hearted kindness of Manchester people, when I have had a difficult\nand complicated scientific argument to put before them. If, after the\nconsiderations which I have put before you--and which, pray be it\nunderstood, I by no means claim particularly for myself, for I presume\nthey must be in the minds of a large number of people who have thought\nabout this matter--if it be that these ideas commend themselves to your\nmature reflection, then I am perfectly certain that my appeal to you to\ncarry them into practice, with that abundant energy and will which have\nled you to take a foremost part in the great social movements of our\ncountry many a time beforehand, will not be made in vain. I therefore\nconfidently appeal to you to let those impulses once more have full\nsway, and not to rest until you have done something better and greater\nthan has yet been done in this country in the direction in which we are\nnow going. I heartily thank you for the attention which you have been\nkind enough to bestow upon me. The practice of public speaking is one I\nmust soon think of leaving off, and I count it a special and peculiar\nhonour to have had the opportunity of speaking to you on this subject\nto-day.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE END OF VOL. III","title":"Science & Education: Essays","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":108817}