KS1 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library LF509 .K59 ' y The historically received conception of olin 3 1924 030 614 915 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tile Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924030614915 ^ THE HISTORICALLY RECEIVED CONCEPTION OF THE UNIYERSITY CONSIDERED WITH ESPECIAL EEFERENCE TO OXFORD. T BY EDWARD KIRKPATRICK, M. "aT oxon. 'Ai.ij9'es slvtti Sst TO as/ivov, ov v.svov. WILLIAMS AND NORGATE, 14, HENRIETTA STREET, CO VENT GARDEN, LONDON; AND 20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. 1857. LF If 51 S^ ^ LEIPZIG, PRIHTEDBY E. G. TECEKER. nn4' PREFACE. The following treatise was originally intend- ed to appear in one of the magazines, and has grown to its present dimensions in conse- quence of the additions found necessary to give completeness to the general design. This cir- cumstance will, it is hoped, explain a certain irregularity in point of form, and account for, if it does not altogether excuse an apparent want of sequ.ence between the several parts of which the work is composed. Although the writer has not failed to take advantage of every means within his reach, he is most painfully aware that every page of that portion of his work in which he has attempted IV PREFACE. to give a sketch of the leading events in the history of academic study will exhibit glaring evidence of a most imperfect acquaintance with the learned labours of German scholars on the same and kindred subjects. Owing however to the extremely defective condition of the public libraries as far as works of this kind are con- cerned the production of a complete, not to say exhaustive work of erudition is little less than an utter impossibility to any one living in the part of the kingdom in which he resides. Such an attempt involves not merely the cost of purchasing a very considerable library with every fresh undertaking of the kind , but a still more intolerable waste of time. No one who has not himself made the trial can be thoroughly aware of the infinite difficulties and wearisome delays experienced in hunting together 'mono- graphs ' published in remote corners of the con- tinent, often out of print, always too trifling in price to repay the bookseller for the trouble of procuring them, and yet possibly contain- ing what no one treating of a similar topic PREFACE. V can venture to neglect with impunity. In the present instance some additional expenditure of time might not have been without its advan- tages in aifording an opportunity of supplying the deficiencies already mentioned, and also of correcting faults which it would be less easy to palliate. Scanty however as may be the evidence adduced, and unskillfully as it may often have been urged, the writer feels assured that these shortcomings on his part will be more than compensated by the intrinsic excellence of the case which he advocates. He deemed it advisable therefore to bring the work before the public in its present somewhat im- perfect condition , rather than to risk the chance of postponing its appearance until a time when irrevocable action might have rendered all fur- ther suggestions on the subject unavailing. An affection of the eyes with which the author has been much troubled during the printing of the following pages has rendered it impossible for him to inspect the proofs in every instance with the requisite degree of minuteness and VI PREFACE. care. Occasional errors of punctuation and or- thography were under these circumstances una- voidable. The writer is led to make this re- mark less on his own account than on that of the printer, who, it is but justice to add, has performed his portion of the task with unusual intelligence and accuracy. EoiNEnKGH, March 1857. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. Oxford from tlie ll"" century to the middle of the 14"" p. 1—43. §. 1. Circumstances which must be taken iuto ac- count in every comparison of earlier with later stages of historical development. §. 3. Celebrity and material greatness of Oxford in the earlier middle ages. §. 4. Its influence upon the scientific speculation of that epoch. §. 6. Character and spirit of the scholastic philosophy. §. 9. Nominalism and Eealism. §. 11. In- fluence of Oxford upon the early political life of Eng- land. §. 12. The benefits of University instruction widely differ throughout the upper classes during this period. §. 13. The political opinions of the University and the popular party of that day the very reverse of those of modern sansculottism. Simon de Montfort. §. 15. Robert Grosseteste. §. 19. Results of the move- ment headed by the Barons and the University. §. 20. Extent to which the University contributed to the political advancement of the nation at this period. §• 22. Relation in which Oxford stood to the church. §. 24. Suppression of the Wycklytfe party leads to the decline of Oxford. VIII CONTENTS. / II. The distinctive principle of University in in- struction P- 43 — 93. a'§. 1. The University an essential organ of Europeaiu enlightenment and progress. §. 2. The University de- signed to systematize and prolong the impulse originat- ing with individual genius. §. 4. Erroneous impressions prevalent on the subject of University study. §. 5. Ob- jections to the principle of a curriculum of general study. §. 8. Its historical origin. §. 11. The Univers- ity a school for manly and adult intellect. §. 12. The student of the University a man in point of physical constitution. §. 14. The characteristic peculiarity of manhood consists in the capacity for higher speculation. §. 15. The power can alone be exercised through the medium of those sciences which correspond with the peculiar inclinations and mental gifts of the individual, §. 16. The Idea of science attains real existence only in a miiltitude of cognate forms. §. 17. True specula- tive power always accompanied with a decided bias in the direction of some particular study. §. 18. The cul- tivation of particular branches of science the only con- dition under which productivity is conceivable. §. 22. This principle necessarily adopted as the law and basis of University study. III. The Historical origin and progress of University study p. 93 — 241. §. 1. Higher education in the earlier periods of Greek history. §. 3. Oratory and public life possess the cha- CONTENTS. IX raoter of a regular profession in the states of antiquity. §. 4. The Sophists. Secret of their influence and im- portance. §.*7. Inherent vices of the sophistic system. §. 9. Difference between the earlier and later Sophists. §. 10. Redeeming element in the character of the So- phists. §. 11. Attic oratory. §. 12. Rise of Attic phi-~ losophy. §. 13. Schools of Plato and Isocrates. §. 15. Aristotle. §. 17. Museum of Alexandria. Schools of Athens and Rhodes. §. 19. Class of persons who fre- quented these schools. Duties and emoluments of Gram- marians and Rhetoricians. §. 21. The iynviihci fitt'S-jj- liara. §. 23. Peculiar importance assigned to the study of philosophy amongst the ancients. §. 25. Rapid dege- neracy of the philosophy after Aristotle. §. 26. Higher education amongst the Roman.?. §. 29. Influence exercised by Cicero upon the youth of his time. §. 31. Endowment of learning by the emperors. Athenaeum of the Capitol- University of Athens established by Marcus Aurelius. §. 32. Mode of appointing professors. §. 33. Amount of salary. §. 34. Classes of Sophists. §. 35. Position and character of the Sophists in this period. §. 37. Mode of instruction. §. 38. Principle of University study as understood at this period. §. 39. Classes into which the students were divided. Lecture rooms , &c. §. 40. Chancellor of the University. §. 42. Effects of these schools upon the literature of the age. §. 43. Debasing effects of the rhetorical propensities of that period upon higher education. §. 44. Influence of Chris- tianity upon the academic study of antiquity. §. 46. Earliest theological schools. §. 47. Tetradision of Con- .stantinople. §. 48. Legal schools of Rome and Berytus. §. 49. Rule of the Ostrogoths in Italy. Its effects upon learning. §■ 50. Differences between the academic X CONTENTS. schools of antiquity and those of the middle ages. §. 53. Origin and organization of the various Faculties in the mediaeval Universities. §. 54. Each of the Universities of this period devotes its chief attention to the prosecu- tion of some one particular study. §. 55. Influence of the Byzantine schools upoii those of Western Europe. §. 57. Resemblances in point of corporate organization, academic dress, matriculation, mode of instruction! &c. between the Universities of antiquity and those of the middle ages. §. 58. Existence of a curriculum of ge- neral study in both. §. 59. Explanation of this circum- stance. §. 60. The Faculty of Arts long regarded as inferior in dignity to those of Medicine, Law and Theo- logy- §■ 61. It first assumes academic rank and conse- quence at the revival of letters in the ISih century. IV. Practical inferences from the foregoing re- ™aAs p. 241—279. §. 1. The peculiar office which Oxford is called upon to fulfil. §. 21. Radical changes not required. §. 4. Ancient Halls of Oxford. §. 7. Popular character of the government of the University at this period. §. 8. Orii^ gin of the collegiate system. §. 10. Colleges at Paris./* §. 11. Period in which such endowments particularly abound. §. 12. In Oxford the colleges ultimately con- stitute the University. §. 13. Breaking up of the system of academic Faculties. §. 14. Colleges designed with/ reference to religious purposes rather than to those of instrnction. §. 18. This circumstance furnishes a clue to the reforms especially called for. §. 19. Distribution I of subjects of instruction amongst the tutors of each CONTENTS. XI college. §. 20. Original plan of Christ Church. §. -.'l. Inhibits an attempt to combine collegiate with profes- sorial teaching. §. 22. Part which should be assigned to each in accomplishing the ends of academic instruction. §. 23. The University properly intended to afford a pre- paration for the Masters degree only. The course of study preparative to the degree of Bachelor of Arts should be completed in a much shorter time than at present. §. 24. Class of subjects which should be em- braced in this course. V. The leading excellencies and defects of the Ger- man Universities p. 279 — ^291. §. 1. The present eminence of the German Universities mainly owing to ftieir adoption of the principle of study which we advocate. §. 2. In point of general design the academic system of Germany identical with our own. §. 3. The German Universities faulty as regards purposes of instruction. §. (5. Their great merit con- sists in an admirably conceived method of prosecuting scientific inquiry. §. 7. The learned inquiry of Ger- many distinguished by the search after ultimate causes. §. 8. By a religious reverence for scientific truth as such. §. 9. By a judicious division of academic study. VI. G-eneral advantages whicli may be anticipated from a reform of the Universities . p. 291 — 309- §. 1. Faults of the English character as exhibiting itself XII CONTENTS. at the present day. §. 2. Classes of society in which these objectionable qualities are most conspicuously seM|, §. 6. The University in its various modes of efficacy especially and essentially qualified to countei'act these faults. ERRATA. Page viii. line 1, for TJniTersity in instruction read University instruction. ix. line ]8,_/ot' Athens established read. Athens as estab- lished. 20, omit the second note. 29, line 4,/flr victoirie read, victorie. 35, line 4,/or hi rear! hii. 60, line I'i.^for what those reai those which. 95, first note,ybr Alexis Meinecke read Alexis in Mei- necke. 104, second notc./br Nimerii reatl. Himerii. 109, third note./or however read here. 126, line \l,,for forms read form. 131, note,/or the philosopher read that philosopher. 139, line \1,for hundred sesterces read hundred thousand sesterces. 140, line 10, for introduced of assigning redd introduced under the Ptolemies of assigning. 143, line 16,, /br that a later read that at a later. 144, line 1 0. insert the following sentence : The subordinate position assigned to the subjects included in the course above mentioned is evident from a passage in Plutarch already cited (p. 61 .) 180, line 3, for with study read with the study. 198, line 23, for drawn together read were drawn together. 213, line 15,/ot' existence of faculties is read existence of faculties at Paris is. 264, line 15, dele account. 280, line 16, /or than read as. 298, line l,for moral read morale. 299, line 18,./or state read scale. 300, line i,for initiation read initiative, line \7,for garded read regarded. 301, line 26, for wildness read wilderness. 306, line 11, for and ansuch read ani has inspired such an. I. INTRODUCTION. XFORD FROM THE IITH CENTURY TO THE MIDDLE OP THE 14TH. §. 1. No small share of the extraordinary circumstai avour with which Mr. Macaulay's recent work Jtekln'i as been popularly received is due, we believe, account i every com an attempt on the part of its author to com- risonofea line the functions of the antiquarian with those'" ^'"Vl ^ stages or I f the historian, and to blend the description of torkai de onditions with the statesmanlike interpretation °'"''"'^" f events. Felicitous and well judged as is the onception of applying to English history the lethod which Niebuhr has so grandly exempli- ed in his treatment of that of Kome we cannot ut take some exception to the manner in rhich this design is occasionally carried out. n spite of the declamatory, and somewhat over oloured manner of depicting characters and acidents by which the work is distinguished one will have failed to notice the frequent eference to the vices and barbarism of earlier eriods of English history, and the somewhat ndue complacency with which the writer is 1 — 2 — in the habit of contrasting the coarseness and prevalent immorality of former times with the decorum and respectability of our own. With- out being altogether prepared to join issue with the historian upon the general conclusion at which he has arrived we cannot help thinking that he takes too little into account the homeliness of manners, and ruder nature necessarily aris- ing out of the smaller population, and simpler relations of every more youthful period of human society.*) The life and comfort of a small provincial townj even though calamities now and then occur which when considered en masse, would give an ugly appearance to its annals, is never so intolerably distui-bed and disorgan- ised in consequence of the absence of an effi- cient police as that of London would be under similar circumstances. Mr. Macaulay seems to forget ihoreover that the existence of 'a certain degree of positive moral and intellectual great- ness in a community more than counterbalances *) For example when we read that Joseph sent his brother Benjamin a mess five times greater th3n that of any of tlie rest of the company we are not to imagine both parties tq the transaction as fearfully unsentimental as we should conclude them to be from a similar love token at the present day. — 3 — almost any amount of mere irregularity and disorder in detail. The presence of a single character like Blake's or Milton's would even at the present day amply compensate for the ex- istence of a score of caterans in the Highlands or footpads on Hounslow heath. — Had the work above referred to been composed after, instead of before, the events of the last two years we suspect that the author would have drawn a more austere and practically fruitful moral from the teachings of the past. He would at all events have taken occasion in a manner more pointed to bring home to his readers one salut- ary warning, namely that the vices and abuses of an earlier period when permitted to prop- agate themselves into a more advanced stage of national existence necessarily become pro- ductive of tenfold greater detriment and disgrace. §. 2. ^ut whatever be the merits of the view adopted by Mr. Macaulay when considered with reference to England generally there can be little doubt that as regards the most eminent of those institutions which exist for the purpose of promoting the noblest life of the nation and the individual the student of English History is likely to arrive at a widely different con- clusion. The present condition of the most 1 * — 4 — ancient and celebrated of our schools of learn- ing, its inertness and insignificance, except in so far as the social momentum of mere wealth is concerned, when contrasted with its sing- ularly distinguished position and powerful in- fluence in times far less favourable to the dom- inion of knowledge, is little calculated to suggest reflections of a vainglorious or selflaudatory nature. — Facts in this instance speak so distinctly, and point to conclusions so unavoid- able, that little of the nice discrimination, and delicate balance of minuter circumstances gener- ally requisite in deciding upon historical ques- tions is here needed to interpret their evidence. A brief and simple statement of the leading events in the earlier history of Oxford presents so utter a contrast to all which could now be recorded that we may be spared the necessity of exposing the poverty and nakedness of an institution deeply impaired in its usefulness yet abounding in great possibilities, and in spite of manifold deficiences still wearing an aspect singularly hallowed and impressive. — The existing state of things is so completely and finally condemned that we may be permitted to pass from a rapid sketch of what Oxford has been to a consideration of what it, and every — 5 — University ought to be, leaving it to eacli individ- ual to determine how much remains to be done in order to revive in present times something analogous to so magnificent a past. It is diffi- cult to discover any reason in the nature of things why in all that redounds to the true dignity and public usefulness of a learned in- stitution Oxford in the nineteenth century should exhibit the very contradictory of what it was in the twelfth. §. 3. During the whole of that period which celebrity and hibits in their highest energy and perfection the ^^^^^^of peculiar institutions of mediaeval Europe Ox- Oxford iu the ford stood high and conspicuous, if not foremost, ^g-es. among the intellectual lights of mankind. — It was one of the chief sources of scientific guidance and certainty during a series of ages rich in vigorous vitality, and abounding in the noble promise of the most healthful and genial adolesc'ence. From the Norman conquest to the middle of the fourteenth century Oxford as- serted a power over the scientific and moral convictions of the leading nations of Christen- dom little if at all inferior to that of Paris, the old,est and most important of the continental Universities. Nay on reckoning up the names of the European celebrities of that period, and — 6 — comparing the dates which mark the order of the internal changes successively introduced in each, it appears that in point of mental enlight- enment, and corporate organisation the balance of obligation is far less exclusively on the side of the English University than is commonly imag- ined. So intimate indeed were the ties by which both were united that they may almost be regarded as distinct portions of the same academic whole rather than as different Univer- sities. The most eminent Doctors of Oxford acted at the same time as regent masters in Paris, and nothing was more frequent than for students of one University to complete their studies at the other. *) The material greatness *) A. Wood History and Antiquities of Oxford, ed. Gntch. I, page 207. See Huber History of the English Universities I, page 66. In this number were no douht. comprehended, not only the numerous attendants who formed the retinue of students belonging to the nobility, but all those trades- men , who , from the fact of their ministering more immediately to the wants of the academic population, were regarded as clients of the University, In Bologna a large number of scriveners bookbinders bedmakers etc. were enrolled amongst the suppositos Universitati, and swore obedience to the rector. See Savigny Ge- schichte des Eomischen Eechts im Mittelalter. — 7 — of Oxford during a large part of this period was perfectly prodigious. The number of schol- ars, according to well authenticated documents, amounted to thirty thousand distributed through- out three hundred halls , and this enormous ac- ademic population included not only students from all the British races, but a very consider- able number from the nations of the continent. Frenchmen, Spaniards, Germans, Bohemians and Italians flocked in crowds to the teachings of the English University. *) — " Those Schol- ars ', says Wood, 'that could compass Oxford and Paris to see the fashions there, converse with clerks of most countries, and obtain but a specimen of their literature were accounted worthy in their generation". Oxford exerted a weight and authority in England and Europe generally to which no existing institution furn- ishes the slightest parallel or analogon. In con- junction with Paris it contained the concentrated intelligence of the Church, then in the highest ascendancy of spiritual power, and asserting an *) See A. Wood History and antiquities of Oxford I, P. 4. — The extent to which Oxford was frequented hy students from Italy, is evident from the existence of the aula Romana in the parish of All saints. (A. Wood Hist, and antiq. of Oxford I, p. 206.) , almost equal universality of temporal dominion. Ancient writers vie with each other in the joy and pride with which they allude to the part which Oxford then played in the nation , and in the times. They speak of it as 'one of Englands stays nay as the sun eye and soul thereof. — Matthew of Paris in 1256 describes Oxford as 'the second school of the Church, yea the fundamental base thereof'.*) An old historian quoted by Huber in his work on the English Universities waxes even more eloquent in his enthusiasm. — "This bright sun", he tells us, "gave light to the whole kingdom, the beams of our wisdom spred the whole world. All schools took counsel and example from this, all kingdoms honoured it : as far as God heth londe Oxford had a name". Us influence g. 4. HyperboHcal as these expressions may scientiftcspe-seem to those who only know Oxford from Tarepoch. *^® intellectual torpor, and Sibthorpian con- servatism (minus its kindliness) by which it is now chiefly distinguished, a single glance at the leading events of those times will show that they contain something more trust- worthy than quaint rhetoric. Oxford then *) A. Wood Hist, ^d antiq. of Oxford p. 75 and 76. — 9 — attested its utility and renown by the noblest fruits, by 'books and men'. Its weight and importance amongst the learned institutions of Europe is evident from the distinguished part borne by its fostersons in all the great Church Councils of thi§ period, and from the extraordinary proportion of the most illustrious individuals of the time whom she could then claim as l*er own. Roger Bacon, a name more highly venerated out of England than that of Bacon of Verulam *), Wycklyffe, the forerunner of the Reformation, Alexander Hales (Doctor irrefragabilis) , Duns Scotus, the perfector of scholastic philosophy, and Ockham, the most acute and ingenious advocate of Nominalism^ are only samples of a long series of great and gifted men who taught in Oxford during this aera of its history. — '-Without doubt", says Wood, in speaking of Oxford, "all impartial men may receive it for an undeniable truth that the most subtle arguing in school divinity did take its beginning in England, and from English men ; and that also from thence it went to Paris and other parts of France, and at length into *) Heeren , Geschichte der classischen Literatur im Mittelalter I, p. 300. — 10 — Italy, Spain, and other nations ".*J Of the lit- erary fertility of the university we have evi- dence in the fact recorded by Pitsius**), that Oxford produced no less than one hundred and forty authors between the twelfth and the middle of the fourteenth centuries. §. 5. In order to form a due estimate of the comparative importance of the circumstances ab- ove mentioned we must bear in mind,ciot merely the extremely primitive condition of the times of which we are now treating, but the additional fact, that the illustrious individuals whose names shed honour on the records of Oxford during this period were in an incomparably greater de- gree the genuine product of its peculiar method of education than the political and literary celebrities who might now be adduced amongst the graduates of the university. The entire life of the great men of that epoch was spent in connection with what were then the sole re- positories of learning and enlightenment. Even when elevated to posts of political distinction, or ecclesiastic dignity such individuals remained *) Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I , p. 100. **) See Huber History of the English Universities I, Note 14. — 11 — united to the University by relations and sym- pathies of the strongest and most intimate na- ture. Oxford was not then compelled to de- fend the utility of its instruction by reference to a heterogeneous list of notorieties, whose after- eminence can as little be traced to their re- sidence at the University as the legal ability of Sir Frederick Thesiger can be refei'red to the indifferent dinners consumed at the Inns of Court, or the Chambers he may have rented in Chancery Lane. The extent to which the alumni of Oxford were indebted to her teaching for their intellectual configuration was evident in the permanence and strength of the ties which continued to unite them to the University when all external connection had been severed. She proved her claims to her offspring by the in- delible family likeness they bore her. §. 6. With reference to the scientific and True cha- positive value of a productivity so astonishing as 's^hojJtlc'' that above mentioned, it is hardly necessary to iiwiosophy. remind the reader that the once fashionable method of flippantly disposing of the philoso- phic labours of the scholastic period as mere disputatious quibbling, or as exhibiting at best the eccentricities of a perverted ingenuity has long since befe discovered to be one of — 12 — the shallowest of vulgar errors, and is now clas- sed with the stupendous ignorance and incapa- ; city of appreciation which with equal confidence pronounced our Gothic minsters on a level with the monstrosities of Mexico or Otaheite, and, recognised in Macbeth and Hamleth only the ravings of 'ah inebriated savage'. That there was a period in which the spirit and power of scientific enquiry had utterly fled from the mediaeval systems, leaving a jargon quite as barbarous as that into which the termino- logy of Kant and Hegel has become perverted in the hands of their followers , is most unques- tionably true, and the readers of Erasmus need not to be reminded that the absurdity and emptiness of this uncouth logomachy had been exposed and ridiculed long before the time of those who have the credit of having first opened the eyes of mankind to its deficiencies*). The scholastic philosophy had begun to verge towards decay even in the days of Scotus , and *) See amongst other passages Ep. II, 10 and VI, 39. where Erasmus describes its adherents as theologastros, quorum cerebellis nihil pntidius, lingua nihil barba- rius , ingenio nihil stupidius , doctrina nihil spinosinSj j moribus nihil asperins , vita nihil fucatius , oratioue nihil viruleutius, pectore nihil nigrius. — 13 — Roger Bacon himself pointed out to his con- temporaries the unhealthy tendencies into which it was beginning to degenerate. At the period of which we are now treating however the schools of Oxford and Paris stood in the highest bloom and vigour of existence. Inquiry was still prosecuted with all the hope and kindling ardour of triumphantly advancing speculation. To be rightly appreciated the Scholastic philo- sophy is but the dialectic form, the basis and frame work of that powerful and passionate yearning after an utter absorption of the earthly nature into the spiritual and immortal which lay at the root of all the leading phaenomena of the brighter epochs of mediaeval life. It was the universal prevalence of this ardent, and — ■ at that youthful period — far from ignoble striving after an entire triumph over the gros- ser elements of existence which gave the Church its boundless power over the minds of men, and which in the mysteriously imaginative cha- racter of cathedral architecture has found an expression so lofty and suggestive of its own infinite aspirations after the highest object of human desire. §. 7. Visionary and extravagant as were the aims of the crusading period, theirs was not that / — 14 — morbid and puerile sentimentalism, which is ex- posed in all its pitiable absurdity when brought into collision with the reality of action or sub- jected to the rigid scrutiny of the dispassionate understanding. Their religious enthusiasm was no feverish delirium, but the glow and exhi- laration of redundant health. It seized, not upon the weak minded — ■ yvvatxug xal yvvair' xadsig Kvdpag,*) as an ancient writer fitly terms them, but upon precisely the sternest and most powerful natures. The Gregories and Hildebrands, who appear as the spiritual At- tilas of that era, and whose inflexibility of purpose, and energy of character were matcli- ed with administrative powers scarcely less gigantic, were in many cases summoned to the Chair of St. Peter from the desert and the convent. The so called mysticism of that age exhibits even a preponderance of the dialectic element. The writings of all the most eminent thinkers of the scholastic period , Albertus Mag- nus, Raymond Lull, Anselm of Canterbury, and especially the productions of the school of Hugo de St. Victor, are remarkable not more for a spirit of deep devotion , and an earnest *) Lobeck Aglaopham. p. 629. — 15 — upward tendency of contemplation , than for the closeness of reasoning , and the vigour and ability with which the question is handled. With the most thorough adoption of the old Pythagorean maxim , (pUoa6q)si, trov ovQavov GKOTCav , they take care never to lose their connection with the solid basis of earth. No assertion is advanced without the strictest proof, and an entire system of the most elevating conceptions is riveted together with the com- pactness and irresistible force of a mathema- tical demonstration. §. 9. The controversy between Nominalism Nominaiis and Realism, in which Oxford bore so signal a part dui'ing the best ages of its history, seems to have rested far more upon a generic difference of intellectual constitution, than upon the slighter and more incidental grou.nds of a purely specu- lative disagreement. Each of the contending parties here asserted what was subjectively true, and thoroughly in accordance with fact when considered with reference to their respective moods of cognition. The Realists with the vast majority of ancient philosophers maintained that thoughts are preeminently things, and do not merely possess a being of their own, but constitute the ground of existence to the exter- — 16 — nals with which we are conversant by means of 'the senses. The Nominalists, on the con- trary, regarded the objects of sensuous per- ception as constituting the only vei'itable re- alities. Thought they looked upon as a mere principle of classification, an arbitrary memo- ria technica, and means of mentally grasping a certain amount of the infinite phaenomena of nature. Under the common name of thought, or idea, each of the disputants understood some- thing essentially different. The Realist refer- red the term to the Platonic conception of those highest norms and principles of being, which a faculty and perception of inherent necessity far more certain than bodily sense, and more cogent than logical sequence as- sured him must be eternal, and consequently anterior to all finite and material existence. The Nominalist, on the other hand, as being virtually destitute of any such organ of men- tal inttiition, applied the same term to those abstractions of the generalizing faculty, which constituted the highest form of knowledge of which his nature was capable. These of course he triumphantly demonstrated to be secondary, and subsequent to our experience of outward things. With so utter a discre- — 17 — pancy of nature on the part of all who come to the consideration of the subject matter, and where the whole question hinges upon the re- lative correctness of the powers of higher in- tellectual cognition in each, the most summary, and perhaps not the least satisfactory method of determining upon the point at issue is ob- tained by carrying the contest from the world of subjective thought into the more universally accessible region of objective reality. Impos- sible as it may be to reduce either of the con- tending parties to silence, where the arguments of the one side at least are based upon data utterly ignored by the other, it is not so hope- less an attempt to discover which of these two great diversities of intellect may be regarded as representing the most complete and perfect type of humanity, and as having been product- ive of the largest amount of light, wisdom, and elevated happiness to mankind. On which side are to be found the mightiest poets, the most beneficent lawgivers, the chiefest and most in- spired apostles? Which tendency has strongly predominated openly announced, or tacitly im- plied, in the most fertile, active; and he- roic ages of history ? By their fruits ye shall know them, is a maxim quite as appKcable — 18 — to philosophic, as to religious doctrine. That system is sure to be the soundest, and most thoroughly in accordance with scientific truth,, which proves most eminently productive of mo- ral advancement, and practically living thought. §. 9. That this far famed controversy by no means originated in the times at which the names of Nominalism and Realism are first ' heard of, but is in reality coeval with the ear- liest essays of philosophical inquiry, is evident from a remarkable passage in the Sophistes of Plato where the latter speaks of the eternal yiyavTOii,a%iu between those who regard voi^ta ■ atta, xal d&ci(iata ai'dfj as the ground of Being, and those who seek reality and truth in the corporeal only*). S. 10. A circumstance which contributed not i *) Sophistes p. 346. We are aware that Schleier- maoher (see Indroduction to the Sophistes) understands this passage as referring exclusively to the controver- sies of the Megareau school with the materialistic fol- lowers of Deraooritus. We cannot hfelp thinking how- ever that this is a, somewhat needless restriction of wide and general expressions. The words iv fisam tcsqI tavxa li.d)f,ri Tig anXsrog asl ^wsBn^iisv seem rather to show that Plato is here speaking of a lasting divergency of philosophic belief including as one of its manifestations that of the schools above referred to. — 19 — a little to render this controversy additionally- barren and protracted was the loose and inac- curate manner in which the word idea seems to have been employed by the Realists them- selves. Even Plato in many cases applies the terms sidog and idea to denote the merely univer- sal (to xad-olov), though not without clearly es- tablishing in other passages the essential and dis- tinctive features of the Absolute (ro xaO"' avro)*). §. 11. Great however as was the influence of Oxford upon the studious world of Europe, influence of the part which it enacted in English history at a O'''''"'' »i'°" i D t/ the early po- crisis of political developement unspeakably liucai ufe of momentous and decisive was even more signally beneficial and important. It was not so much in dexterously dealing with dialectic subtleties^ or in awakening abstruse yet pregnant ques- tions of ontologic science as in the region of moral action, and practical usefulness that the schools of Oxford have achieved their most in- disputable claim to the respect and gratitude of after men. Throughout the whole of what may be termed its heroic age Oxford is distin- guished by the warmth and intensity of inter- *) Such was also the case with Aristotle. See Bran- dis Aristoteles. p. 347. 2 + — 20 — est with which it followed the cours'e of public events, and it is more than to be surmised that to this source more especially the history of that epoch is indebted for the political interest, and incipient statesmanship which set it so far above all the preceding and many of the sub- sequent periods. Of the two nations, into which the academic population was divided, the north- ern English (Angli Boreales, clercs Nourrois), who in philosophy adhered to the more Plato- nic and imaginative doctrines of the Realists, and in politics constituted the party of pro- gress,*) seem at this time to have had a de- cided preponderance in the councils of the. uni- versity. The weight of the whole learned class was thus thrown on the side of the baronial party in that memorable struggle with the crown**) in which the germs of English law and English liberty were quickened into intenser life and activity. Simon de Montfort, the head and soul of the English people at this most impor- tant juncture of their history, who by the addi- tion of the gentry and wealthier burgesses to *) Huber, Hist, of the English Universities I p. 86. **) The vei-y reverse of what took place during the Civil Wars. temp. Cac. I. — 21 — the former assembly of the barons and prelates became the author of the political power of the commonalty, found his most vigorous suppor- ters in the ranks of the clerisy, and established at Oxford the headquarters of the baronial party*). That the support of the academic population was not confined to m^re sympathy is evident from their bold and spirited conduct at the defence of Northampton. On this oc- casion they fought under their own banner, and according to old Walter Hemingford '' dealt the soldiers of the king more harm than did all the barons"**). Their stout defence so irritated Henry that on entering the town he was with difficulty dissuaded from putting them all to the sword. Such a gathering together of lite- rally myriads of ardent and highly susceptible natures into one focus of intelligence and sympathy could not but exercise a powerful influence upon the sentiments and destinies of the entire nation. A rude rhyme which has come down to us from that period bears wit- ness to the fact that Oxford was then to the *) Huber, Hist, of the Engl. Univ. I p. 95. **) Huber. I Note 24, See also Pauli, Geschichte von England III p. 642. — 22 — rest of England almost as much a centre of impulse and action as Paris at the present day is to France, though, it need hardly be obser- ved, that in the former instance this relation was based upon grounds, and exercised in a manner far more honourable to each*). Benefits of §• 'IS. This remarkable Community of senti- jniversiiyiii'jjjgj^^ between the body of the nation and its structionwi- "^ deiy diffused schools of learning was the result at once of the thTaristo- unwcakencd connection which all who had ever :racy of those ^een adopted into the mental aristocracy con- ag^es. tinued to maintain Tvith the university, and of the singularly large proportion of the best clas- ses of the country over whom the elevating ' influences of an academic education were then extended. The nobility of that day seem far less frequently than at present to have neglec- ted to take advantage of the peculiar opportu- nities furnished by wealth and social position for possessing themselves of the highest cul- ture which the age could furnish by passing *) Chronica si penses Cum pugnaut Oxonienses Post paueos menses Volat ira per Angligenenses. A. Wood. Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I p. 258. — 23 — through a regular course of university study*). Even king John is known to have been by no means destitute of literary attainments.**) Henry the first (Beauclerc) is known to have been educated at one of the universities, most probably Oxford. Wood tells us ***) that this ac- complished monarch was wont to declare "that he would esteem himself but "a crowngdasse" *) "For at this time our mother was in its vigour, and esteemed by all as great a, school of learning and virtue as in the whole world, and therefore as the com- mon nursery of the chief nobility in England." A. Wood. Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford, I p. 221. The very large number of men of rank who studied at Oxford in the earlier period of its history is attested by another cir- cumstance recorded by the same writer (I p. 267). At the storming at Northampton when Henry the Second had resolved to send to the scaffold all the scholars of Oxford who had taken part in the defence of the town, his own friends earnestly dissuaded him from carrying his design into effect, representing to him that the university comprised a very large portion of the sons of the first families in the realm, and that any undue se- verity towards them would infalliblycause the defection of many who had hitherto espoused the royal cause. **) Pauli Gesch. von Engl. Ill p. 48(3. The works of Pliny and Peter Lombardus are mentioned as amongst the books in his library. ***) Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I p. 131- — 24 — without literature, and was always ready to declaim against the condition of those princes that had not naturally, or did not take pains to obtain such humane gifts that might render them prudent and discerning in the eyes and judgment of the people". Even in the com- parative decline of the English universities at the close of the fifteenth century John Major writes that there were in each "from four to five thousand scholars, all grown up, carrying swords, and bows, and mostly gentry".*) Of the swarms of zealous disciples who followed Abelard, and other great teachers of that age, from city to city until the whole countryside was often unable to supply food for their countless mul- titudes, it is expressly mentioned that a very large proportion was composed of the noblest born, and most affluent of the land**). The warlike and adventurous spirit of the crusades, no less than of the time of Elisabeth arose from something better than an excess of ani- mal spirits, or the incontrollable redundancy of mere physical vigour. Their chivalrous gallan- *) Quoted by Sir W. Hamilton, Discussions on Philo- sophy &c. p. 414. **) Neander Church History Vol. VIII, pp. 427, 40, 95, 96. — 25 — try was but the simplest and most primitive ex- pression of a naturally noble and aspiring temper, which was almost as much in its ele- ment in the high speculations of the schools, as when enacting deeds of valour and romance.*) §. 13. We should be doing a grievous injustice Thopoiuicai to Oxford of the olden time if we imagined for °p'°'0"s "f ° the Univers- an instant that in their influence upon the poli-iiyand popu- tical events of the thirteenth century the scho- thauiaVhart lars of that day bore the slightest resemblance """^'"S' ='■'"' 1 . 1 ^ • 1 . ^° modern to the insane school boys whose mischievous sanscuiottism. puerilities during the late disturbances on the *) An analogy, and in some respects a confirmation, of the view here taken of the spirit of the chivalrous ages will he found in the twofold character of the gym- nastic training of the ancients. The latter was designed to harden and invigorate the hody, in order by a sort of indefinable sympathy to fortify, and give a heroic temper to the soul. (See Lucian's beautiful dialogue de gymna- siis.) The gymnasia were schools of philosophic , quite as much as of bodily, exercise and their twofold tendency is indicated by the divinities to whom they were dedica- ted, Apollo cpi'Xad-Xog (Lucian de Gymn., P. 887 Hemster- hus. Plut. Symposiac. P. 724) and Hermes, the god of intellectual, and bodily dexterity (Miiller, Archaeologie derKunst §.380, Hor. Carm. 1, 10, init.), amongst the later Romans the Thermae held relatively to literature and phi- losophy a position in many respects analogous to that of the Greek gymnasia. Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Paris I, p. 367. — 26 — continent have done so much to bring German universities into contempt and disgrace. Plutarch would as soon have thought of drawing a parallel between Tiberius Gracchus and Mr. Cuffey*) as of comparing the academic adherents of de Montfort and Grosseteste with the be- muddled Burschen who vapoured in 1848 'at the barricades of Berlin and Vienna. The scholars of Oxford are not seen associated with the spirits of anarchy, absurdity, and black- guardism, but with the powers of Duty, intel- ligence and order. The resolute yet modest watchword of their party ' nolumus leges Ang- liae mutari' plainly demonstrates that they were in arms to defend the ayQccTCta vofii^cc, the primeval law of the land, and to resist not create, revolution. Their conception of the liberties of Englishmen was suggested by na- tional institutions inherent in the praehistoric organisation of their own peculiar type of social life, and springing essentially from that living principle of personal honour, and mutual self- respect, which had given its very name to the Germanic race. **) The leaders of the party to *) The impertinent 'nigg-er', who diverted the public a few years since in the capacity of a Chartist orator. **) Tlie name Germani is, according to Savigny, equi- — 27 — which they attached themselves consisted not of mischievous madmen, or ' seedy ' patriots, but of those who were confessedly the most vir- tuous, and nobly gifted men of their time. valeut to Ehrenmauuer (men of honour, itoUtai, cives Optimo jure) and denoted the collective body of freemen. The principle which" animated this body was believed to consist in the personal dignity of a commoner and a gentleman , as distinguished from the more exclusive pride of rank belonging to a nobleman. The honour of a free man constituted .the caput civis amongst the Germanic nations. This notion of freedom, Savigny goes on to observe, was not as at present purely negative, but contains something [far more positively character- istic than we now commonly associate with the word. As in the case of the dominium ex jure Quiritium am- ongst the Eomans, the possession of property was re- garded as a necessary condition to the enjoyment of the rights of the Germani. In point of etymology Savigny connects the Germani with the AUemanni, the proper name Herrmannus, and the Ahrimanni of the Lombards. Analogies of meaning he adduces in the case of the Franken, or freemen, also called Kachinburgii , a term derived either from rechtbiirgen , or from rek, noble. The Kachinburgii are also designated as boni homines, where of course the word plainly corresponds to the Goths i. e. die Guteu, or, as we should say, the good men and true. The ordinary derivation of Germani from Heermanner, or warriors Savigny shows to be inadmissible from the fact that even women were designated as Ahrimannae. — 28 — Simon de Miich of the poetic interest which attaches to Montfort. ^jjg history of Simon de Montfort arises from the manly tolie of religious faith, which gave elevation, earnestness and pregnancy of las- ting results to the actions of that heroic and farsighted man.*) A ballad quoted in Pauli's excellent history of England **) strikingly illus- trates the pride and enthusiastic confidence of his followers in their chief, as well as the strong assurance, and conscious power which the presence of an ethical and. absolute prin- ciple imparted even in that primitive period. II est apele de Montfort. II est el mond, et si est fort, Si ad grand chevalerie. Ce voir e je m'acort. II eime droit, et het le tort, Si avera le mestrie. §. 14. Simon de Montfort continued to be revered after his death as a saint and martyi* by the people. Pilgrimages were performed to his tomb, where miracles of healing were de- voutly believed to be wrought. This popular *) Pauli, Gesch. von England III, p. **) III , p. 749. — 29 — canonization of the hero is alluded to in a lament of the same period: Mas par sa mort le cuens Mountfort Conquist la victoirie. • Come ly martyr de Canterbyr Finist sa vie &c. — *) §. 15. Qualities no less admirable were con- i^»bert • , , I' -r> 1 Grosselesle. spicuous in the personal character of Robert Grosseteste, the friend of Simon de Montfort **), who seems to have exercised a sort of Nestorlike authority and guidance over the academic section of the adherents of the latter. Though fearlessly espousing the cause of the nation in church and state, and expressing his views on the subject of ecclesiastical abuses with a plain spoken energy which falls not far behind the language of the reformers themselves, the extreme benig- nity^ and wisdom of his nature seems to have led him to avoid any positive breach with those whom he felt it his duty to oppose. He was thus enabled on one occasion more especially to intercede on behalf of the university whose wilder spirits had well nigh dra-«Ti down upon Oxford the fulminations of the Papacy at a *) Pauli, Geseh. von England III, p. p. 795, 796. **) Pauli, Gesch. von England III, p. 685.. — 30 — time when Kings and Kaisars had learned in good earnest to respect its anathema. Grrosseteste was an intimate friend of Roger Bacon who had even been educated under his influence. He is known to have possessed an acquaintance with Greek and Hebrew and is described by Neander as holding a very high rank among the scholastic divines of the day. That his acquirements were not of that general nature which imparts mere liberality of sen- timent and comprehensiveness of view is evident from the fact that he taught with distinction as a Doctor of the university.*) Roger Bacon speaks in the strongest and most enthusiastic terms of his intellectual attainments. "Solum dominus Robertus dictus Grossum caput novit scientias."**) The belief in his knowledge of the mysterious ground of things caused him to be invested with an awful and half unearthly character. Like Roger Bacon he was popu- larly regarded as a magician. ***) §. 17. Throughout the whole of his public career Grosseteste was distinguished for the *) Pauli, Gesch. von England III, p. 644. ■ **) Neander, Church History VIII., p. 98 Note. ***) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I, p. 200. — 31 — affectionate warmth and interest with which he entered into all questions connected with the welfare of the university. ' Doctor Grosseteste', says the old annalist, 'was always a loving father to the scholars.'*) He was attached to the university not only from the genial love of youth characteristic of all finally susceptible natures but from a profound recognition of the elevated spirit and influences it embodies. At the head of the bishops of England he declared Oxford to be 'the second church' (secunda ec- clesia).**) After his death when the king clergy and people of England publicly petitioned the pope to ratify the judgment of their hearts and consciences by enrolling 'holy Robert of Lin- coln ' amongst the saints of the church, the uni- versity bore witness that " he never omitted any good act pertaining to his cure for fear of any man, but that he was always provided to undergo martyrdom whenever the sword of the persecu- tor should appear". A noble instance at once of his intrepid resolution, and enlightened intellect is recorded by Wood. On the elevation of Frederick de Lavonia, a mere boy, and a *) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. I, p. 233. **) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. I, p. 228. — 32 — soidisant nephew of the Pope, to one of the highest ecclesiastical dignities in England, Grosseteste resisted the appointment : and when excommunicated for his contumacy declared that 'he appealed from the sentence of the Pope to the tribunal of Christ.'*) §.18. It is a pleasing characteristic of this genuine worthy of English History that he had a true Lutheran appreciation an^d love of music. He always kept a minstrel in an adjoining apart- ment in order, as he expressed it 'to dispel the fiends.' **) lesuitsofthe §. 19. Such wcro the men who with the zea- moVement ^^^^ support of the uuivcrsity and learned clas-- eadedbyihe ges Conducted a political movement which has so Barons and r» n -it tiie Uni- poweriully contributed to render the history of ■versity. England grandly fruitful, beyond that of all other modern nations, in lessons of noblest interest and lasting meaning to mankind. Cast as they have been into comparative obscurity by the occurrences of times more generally acces- sible, and bearing more immediately upon the questions of the present they gave distinctness and form to a living principle of political life. *) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I, p. 202. **) Pauli, Gesch. von England III, p. 855. — 33 — which, though slumbering for ages, in sus- pended vitality, never afterwards became wholly lost to the national consciousness. The fruits of their efforts are to be found in the existence of a united English nationality, in the intro- duction of ministerial government, in the begin- ning of the representative system, in the employ- ment of parliament as a medium for the re- dress of grievances, and finally in the enact- ment of laws , which by providing for the con- vocation of the estates of the realm at regularly recurring, and not distant intervals, effectually rendered the sanction and formal assent of the nation an indispensable element in all future government. *) §. 20. That the details , and special results of Exiem to the policy pursued by the Baronial party are to be attributed rather to the native good sense, and comri practical sagacity of the men of action, than adv^ncemeM to the cloistered lucubrations of scholastic Ox- accomplished in Ihis period. ford is too thoroughly in accordance with the primitive simplicity and healthy nature of those times to admit of the slightest uncertainty. We must however bear in mind that the Ba- wllicli llle Universily ibuled *) Pauli, Gesch. vou England, p. p. 391, 624, 676, 719. 3 — 34 — , rons themselves were probably to a man alumni of the university; and that the alliance which thus existed with that institution was rendered closer and more intense through the parish clergy, by whom they were most vigorously supported. *) The presence of an element of high political speculation is moreover distinctly visible in the literature of the day, a circumstance which can only be attributed to the active cooperation of a far more metaphysical and thoughtful class of intellects than could have been met with in any number amongst the mailed barons of Runymede. The following extract from a poem of that period strikingly shows the extreme enlightenment, precision and clearness of ulti- mate principle imparted by the learned body to the movements of the popular party. Nee omnis arctatio privat libertatem. Nee omnis districtio tollit potestatem. Ad quid vult libera lex reges arctari? Ne possint adultera lege maeulari. Et haec coarctatio non est servitutis; Sed est ampliatio regiae virtutis. Igitur communitas regni eonsulatur; Et quid imiversitas sentiat seiatur. *) Pauli, Gesch. von England HI, p. 725. — 35 — Cui leges propriae maxime sunt notae Nee cuncti provinciae sic sint idiotae. Quin sciant plus ceteris regni sui mores, *) Quos relinquunt posteris hi qui sunt priores. §. 21. In the wonderful accuracy of distinc- tion, and philosophic comprehensiveness of spi- rit with which the great problem of the times is here treated it is scarcely possible to avoid recognising an immediate utterance of the Uni- versity. The same conclusion is still further favoured by the language in which this extra- ordinary document is composed, and the traces of Aristotelian doctrine which it not obscurely exhibits. §. 22. That the literature of England which Eeiaiionin began to appear above the surface at the same '^''"'l °'''^°'''' ° ■■■ -^ stood to Ihe vigorous and prolific epoch was, indirectly at church. least, not a little indebted to the general stir and activity set in motion by the University appears all the more probable when we consider how deep- ly the art of those ages reechoes the sublime faith, and speculative mysticism, which were the prevailing characteristics of the leading schools *) Quoted by Pauli, see Geschiohte von England III, p. 727. 3' — 36 — of mediaeval philosophy *). To this circum- stance however, as well as to the still more signal benefit conferred on England by Oxford in not indistinctly heralding the advent of re- ligious reformation, we can only allude most briefly. Oxford appears to have been from the very first far less immediately dependent upon the church than almost any of the other trans- alpine Universities. The researches of Professor : Huber render it evident that the English Uni- versity developed itself, not from the cathedral, or abbey school, as was the case with that of Paris, but from the court school established by Alfred at Oxford in imitation of a similar in- stitution founded by Charlemagne. This pe- culiarity in the origin of the University of Oxford seems to have exercised a deci- sive influence upon the whole tenour of its relations to the ecclesiastic power. It main- tained indeed the most intimate connection with the church, and derived all the advan- tages which would naturally be afforded by the favour and fostering protection of that *) A series of English painters is mentioned by Pauli (Gesch. von England III p. 843) as having arisen in the reign of Henry the third (1216—1272). — 37 — sovereign hierarchy *) which then occupied a position so astonishingly elevated and impos- ing, but never failed at the same time to main- tain a distinct, though subordinate individuality, and to give proof of a possible independance of action. While zealously cooperating with the church , as the loftiest expression of holy order, and the concentrated form of all the highest tendencies of human nature, Oxford seems ne- ver to have been so far carried away by its appreciation of what the Church was meant to be as to become blind to the knowledge of what it often actually was. The Papacy at that period seems not only to have presented a spectacle inexpressibly impressive and sublime, but to have exercised an influence on the whole eminently civilizing and salutary. ' The crowned priest' in whose hand were all en- terprises, and at whose feet the fealty of Chris- tendom was offered, was often the soul and direction of the very best aims and efforts of *) The Pope supported the University in its quarrel with the town aided hy king John in 1210. In another controversy of the same nature in 1228 the Pope de- cided in favour of the University, and appointed the Masters judges in such cases without appeal from their verdict (Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I p. 18.) — 38 — the period. The church existed as the origin, and element of all highest impulses in know- ledge, in art, and in practical life ; and through the closely knit organization of one vast sys- tem gave form, consistency, and discipline, to their expressions. The institutions of Popery, which in the more advanced sta.ges of social existence are ever found pernicious to mo- rality, and inimical to political freedom, ap- pear to have been productive of many very happy effects in an age so simple, and so sus- ceptible of boyish enthusiasm ; just as many of the loveliest and holiest virtues of the feminine character seem even now to attain their most exquisite perfection amidst the graceful super- stitions, the highwrought sentiment, and the un- questioning, selfabandoning faith of Catholicism. The darker and more subtle tendencies of Popery remained comparatively harmless in the primitive childhood of European life, and we find that the protests of Oxford are far more di- rected against the appointment of foreign priests to the highest offices of the English church, the scandalous extortion of Eomish officials, and other corruptions and abuses, than against the essentials of the Popish system. On more than one occasion we find the University staunchly — 39 — supporting the cause of the Pope *), and Anselm of Canterbury, one of the brightest characters, and finest intellects of the whole mediaeval epoch, is found among the zealous adherents of Hildebrand**). There appears notwithstanding to have been all along a leaven of something decidedly akin to Protestantism in the Northern clerks and Realists, from whom Wyclyffe him- self ultimately proceeded***). The opinions of the Waldenses are known to have found decid- ed sympathy in Oxford f). So determined and energetic was the spirit of resistance to t^je abuses and scandals flowing out of the Popish system that there were times when the entire University seemed on the point of assuming a position of open hostility to the Romish church. We read that when Gregory the second sent out a bull in condemnation of the doctrines of Wyclyffe "the proctors and certain Masters joining together stood along in doubt with themselves whether they should receive the said bull with honour, or refuse and reject it with dis- *) Huber. Hist, of the English University I p. 8! **) Neander Church History VHI p. 14. ***) Huber. Hist, of the English Univ. I p. 85. t) A. Wood Hist, of the English Univ. I p. 158. - 40 - . grace"*). "Wyclyffe," we are further informed, " proceeded very boldly, not without the applause and wellwishes of many persons in the Univer- sity"**). In the details of the tumults, which were of somewhat frequent occurrence with the bold and turbulent academic plebs of the period, we find many traces of a national spirit of re- sistance to the aggressions of a foreign priest- hood. This is especially discernable in the account given by Mathew of Paris of the riot of 1238, in which the' Papal legate narrowly e^aped with his life.***) *) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I p. 494. **) Id. I p. 498. ***) About this time (1238) the lord legate Otho (who had been sent to England to remedy multifarious abuses in the church) came to Oxford also, where he was re- ceived with all becoming honours. He took up his abode in the Abbey of Osuey, the clerks of the Univer- sity, however, sent him a goodly present of welcome of meats and various drinks for his dinner , and after the hour of the meal repaired to his abode to greet him, and to do him honour. Then so it was that a certain Italian, a doorkeeper of the legate with less perchance of courtesy towards visitors than was becoming called out to them with loud voice after the Eomish fashion, and keeping the door ajar: 'What seek ye?' Where upon they answered, 'the lord legate, that we may — 41 — §.23. In commenting upon this occurrence Huber draws attention to the fact that the re- greet him. ' And they thought within themselves assur- edly that hpnour would be requited by honour. But when the doorkeeper with violent and unseemly words refused them entrance they pressed with force into the house regardless of the clubs and swords of the Eomans, who sought to keep them back. — Now it came to pass also that during this tumult a certain poor Irish clerk went to the door of the kitchen, and begged earnestly for Gods sake, as a hungry and needy man, that they would give him a portion of the good things. The master cook however (the legate's own brother, it is said, who filled this place for fear of poison) drove him back with hard words, and at last with great wrath flung hot broth from out of a pot into his face. ' Fie for shame ! ' cries a scholar fromWelshland, who witnessed the affront , 'shall we bear this?' and then bending a bow , which he held in his hand , for during the turmoil some had laid hands upon such weapons as they found within reach , he shot the cook , whom the scholars in derision named Nebuzaradau, the prince of cooks, with a bolt through the body, so that he fell dead to the earth. Then was raised a loud cry, and the legate himself in great fear disguised in the garment of a canonist fled into the tower of the church , and shut to the gates. And there remained he hidden until nighti and only when the tumult wa^ quite laid he came forth, mounted a horse, and hastened through byways, and not without danger , led by trusty guides to the spot where the king held his court: and there he sought protection. — 42 — proaches with which the scholars assailed the legate " were the expression of public opinion in England, and do but state more correctly and plainly the sentiments then held by many of the best English .divines " (vol. I p. 93). uppression §. 24. So deeply seated was this reformatory yff! mHy tendency in Oxford, and so radically interwoven eartstothe iff{t\x the vcry principle of its existence that the iclineofOx- ^ , . p t -r-rr i rv i • i ford. final suppression oi the Wyciytte party in the middle of the fourteenth century gave at once the deathblow to its ancient prosperity*). The academic population rapidly dwindled to an in- considerable remnant of literary mendicants, and nothing can be more lamentably graphic than the descriptions given by contemporary writers of the feeble and shrunken existence through which it continued to languish until with the revival of classical learning in the fifteenth century it regained a faint resemblance of its former renown**). To this period in the history The enraged scholars however stayed not for a long time seeking the legate with loud cries in all corners of the house saying : ' Where is the usurer , the simonist, the plunderer of our goods, who thirsts after our gold and silver, who leads the king astray, and upsetting the kingdom enriches strangers with our spoils?' *) Huher. Hist, of the English Universities p. 157. **) In an extract from an academic petition quoted — 43 of Oxford as that in which the existing form of the University had its origin we shall here- after have occasion to recur. II. THE DISTINCTIVE PRINCIPLE OF UNIVERSITY IN- ( STKUCTION. §. 1. We are well aware that any at- The Univer- tempt to claim for the University at the",i^i^",.^^„°°f present day the same absolute and uncon- European enlig:hten- troUed ascendancy which it maintained at a mcnt and pro- period when in possession of a positive mo- ^'^^^^' nopoly of knowledge would justly be dismis- sed as a mere freak of literary Quixotism. Much no doubt which it then laboured to bring about has now finally been accomplished. The by Huber. I p. 163. it is mentioned that "out of so many thousand students, which are reported to have been here at a former time, not one thousand now remaiue to us." See also Sir W. Hamilton, Discussions on Philosophy &c. p. 414. — 44 — grain of mustard seed has expanded into a life incomparably vaster than that from which it proceeded. The leaven of intelligence has indeed so far permeated the mass that the re- lative positions of the University and the world without have actually been reversed, and so- ciety at large is now bestirring itself to carry onwards, and spiritually invigorate those very institutions to which it is itself indebted for the liveliest and most dynainic elements in its own existence. An anomaly so glaring and disgrace- ful can however have no permanent place in the natural course of things. The University can hardly be regarded as an institution of merely transient utility, whose part, like that of Venice or Nuremberg , has been already played, and which must henceforth subside into a re- spected, but comparatively common place and insignificant existence. As involving a distinct principle of study and education, and adapted to aparticular stage of mental growth, the office and position of the University is no less abiding than the condition it is intended to meet. The vast changes which have taken place in the social and intellectual condition of the com- munity generally ought not of themselves to operate exclusively, or even importantly, to its — 45 — disadvantage. Its intrinsic claims to authority and influence should on the contrary only be- come more urgent and irresistible with every wi- der extension of knowledge. Far from being di- minished, its opportunities of acquiring mental dominion are immeasurably augmented with every circumstance which conduces to awaken a spirit of intelligence, and quicken the capacity for nobler pursuits over a vaster circle of the community. In place of a learned few the most thoughtful and politically important por- tion of an entire people are thus more and more brought within the range of its influence. Nor need this more amply extended sphere of operations be purchased at the cost of any diminution of the central energy. The proper action of the University should become the more intense and forcible from the vigorous reaction by which its impulse will be reciprocated. Its utterance should be rendered all the more deep and powerful by the wider compass of vibra- ting sympathy from which its tones will be re-echoed. The University of the present day, like the church, has sacrificed only an unnatu- ral and extravagant species of predominance, while invited to aspire to a position far more grandly important as well as infinitely more — 46 — permanent and secure. Controlled, and to a cer- tain extent counterbalanced, as it hencefor- ward must be by the intelligence of the upper classes, and the existence of a numerous and highly cultivated extramural clerisy,*) the Uni- versity is none the less bound to assert its ancient priority over the learned institutions of the land, and to maintain an undoubted supre- macy over those less strictly disciplined auxi- liaries who have gradually assumed so large a share of its functions. Its design is conceived with reference to education in a form so lofty and absolute as to aim at aiding onwards and upwards not merely the student, but science *) For the derivation of this' word see Neander Church History I, p. 271. We are there informed that it was originally suggested by the analogy supposed to exist between the ancient Levites and the Christian priesthood. In the same manner as the former were assigned no share in the promised land, but had the Lord for their inheri- tance (nl'^Qog) , the latter were looked upon as a class having no participation in the world and its concerns, and living and labouring solely with reference to spiritual and eternal interests. By a further extension of the same analogy the term xlrjQmog , clericus, was ulti- mately applied to all who devoted themselves to a life of thought and speculation. Huher Hist, of the Engl. Univ. I, p. 39. — 47 — itself. The efficiency with which the Univer- sity discharges this its proper function is an indispensible condition to the progress of that severely scientific investigation without which the office of the dispensers of information would of itself speedily come to an end. It is pre- cisely to this element of ever advancing science- guided developement thai the intelligence of Europe is indebted for its distinctive and in- variable superiority over the monotonously re- curring, and unprogressive, or rather successive- ly retrograding, civilization of the orientals. Progress in the highest speculation is essen- tially identified with the very existence of the European state, and the means of ensuring its furtherance becomes a question of imperative necessity. Even if no motives more manly and resolute than those of self preservation, and the maintenance of inherited" advantages be taken into account, interests so momentous dare not, of course, be staked, upon a concur- rence of accidents so improbable as the spon- taneous appearance of a series of gifted indivi- duals, each arriving exactly at the moment when his services are required, and enabled by the unaided force of natural ability at once to enter upon the career of a discoverer. Neither in — 48 — actual nor ideal life does the deus ex machina ever descend to save from disaster and disgrace those who from slowness of heart , and secret unbelief in everything beyond physical enjoy- ment neglect to' take to heart the plainest con- clusions of reason, and the most terrible war- nings of history. An ever present and lofty necessity can be only met by an activity no less permanent and elevated. Without the existence in full practical efficiency of a scien- tific body politic resting its foreknowledge of the future upon the most genial mastery of the past, and blended by organisation into one comprehensive individuality, activity of intellect not uhfrequently becomes a curse instead of a blessing to society. Restless eddying assumes the place of onward movement, and, as is so often seen in the unedifying excentricities of English sectarianism, the very mental fertility of a people gives birth to mere abortions and monstrosities. Men of no mean natural endow^ ments, and eminently gifted with that sense for the unseen which is the life of human devel- opement, from the absence of sound scientific discipline have become the apostles of mischie- vous delusions, or at best introduced a new element of confusion and uncertainty. — 49 — §. 2. The supei-human agencies of genius- can never, it is true, be conjured within the limits of any institution, however admirably conceived, or wisely and judiciously organ- ised. The powers • of mightiest influence in human history seem to come and go mysteri- ously, in obedience to a will, which seems, with Heraclitus,*) to disport itself in the rhyth- mical freedom of its own spontaneity. — ■ But though all incapable of commanding the gift of the Q'sCa (lotQa legislative wisdom and fore- thought is paramount over all the ordinary and permanent constituents of human grandeur and felicity. ■ It is enabled to provide con- ditions which will almost infallibly ensure on the part of the community that genuine sym- pathy and lively susceptibility for high thoughts which is the vital element of genius.. It has given existence to learned institutions of an intent so high and noble as never to be wholly obscured by the selfish meanness of their administrators, and calculated of them- selves to foster in the nation a spirit of intelli- gence and aspiration, which whenever heaven *) See Fragments of Heraclitus, collected by Sohleier- macher. Museum d. Alterthumswissenschaft I, p. 429. 4 — 50 — •Sent prophets and judges do appear, will per- mit none of their words to fall to the ground in vain. It is the province of the University to warrant an Originality only secondary to ■that of miraculous and creative intuition. It claims to possess that scientific method whose first suggestion is the noblest fruit of genius, and without the establishment of which that divine faculty would have appeared amongst men in vain. Men simply remarkable for learned industry and intelligent inquiry united .with a reverential and imaginative temper,' when trained and organised as the several members of one scientific whole are abund- antly qualified to maintain the steady devel- opement of forms of knowledge which origin- ally emanated from a generically distinct, and far more marvellously gifted class of intellects. Revelations of highest truth otherwise unveil- ed only to those who quite transcend the con- ditions of ordinary humanity are through the instrumentality of the University brought within the ken of all who through earnest endeavour and persevering energy strive to awaken with- in them that germ of the divine which exists in every uncorrupted and well constituted na- ture. The original movement of genius is — 51 — thus endlessly propagated. Its inspiration and power purified from all subjective imperfection become exalted into principles of moral order and ideal beauty, which penetrate and trans- form into their own likeness the entire life of society. §. 3. In proceeding from these somewhat ge- neral and preliminary remarks to a closer in- vestigation of the subject we propose to consider, our first endeavour must be to arrive at that distinct conception of the immediate and special usefulness of the University which can alone enable us to unravel the intricacies of the testimony of the past. The University is, of course, preeminently a training school for the intellect. It exists for the purpose of calling into action the highest order of mental facult- ies, and aims at invigorating those powers which most completely sum up the scientific capabilities of the man. Though consequently embracing within the sphere of its operations the moral, as well as the intellectual nature, or rather having reference to that higher mode of cognition in which both are inseparably combined, its influences are necessarily intended to bear far more immediately and powerfully upon the latter. Strictly speaking the moral — 52 — nature, vast and incalculable as is the im- portance it ever assumes, must here be regarded as of secondary moment. It is included, less in its own right, than as necessary to complete the conditions of the general design. Study and instruction, the communication and living reception of knowledge, must ever constitute the chief end of the University, and a clear and definite conception of the principle of Un- iversity study is accordingly the primary con- dition of every well matured scheme of Un- iversity reform. Erroneous §.4. The extreme pcrplcxity and Uncertainty •ovaient on which sccms to havc been felt in dealing with e subject of ^]jjg question is to be attributed to the absence on Jnivers^ty ■*■ study, the one hand of any exact and clearly under- stood principle, and to the prevalence on the other of imperfect and erroneous notions, whose adoption fortunately has been attended with insuperable difficulties. Much as the learned institutions of this country have suffered from the general apathy of the English people to all questions of higher import, they are now threat- ened with risks infinitely more serious from those paroxysms of precipitate legislation which regularly alternate with long intervals of total indifference. Among the many weak and shah — 53 — low fancies now current on the subject of University education, there is one which seems to have found wonderful favour in the eyes of that numerically imposing, and now indeed absolutely dominant section of the community which so instinctively sympathises with what- ever is mediocre and trivial, or where the essen- tial poverty of the scheme is 'thinly covered over with a few equally common place, but vaguely high sounding phrases. The theory to which we allude is too familiarly known from a con- spicuous practical illustration to need any. minutely detailed description of its peculiar- ities. [The characteristic feature of institutions formed upon this model is to be seen in the fact that the results of academic teaching are sought to be obtained by means of a system of stu-dies so selected as to compose a small encylopaedia of those branches of knowledge which are considered peculiarly essential to a liberal education. Their aims are especially directed towards comprehensiveness of know^ ledge in a somewhat popular acceptation of the phrase, and those subjects consequently which lie most widely distant towards the leading points of the compass of science are peculiarly preferred. The studies of the .University ac- — 54 — cording to this view of the subject are purely introductory in their nature. The knowledge imparted in academic education is not regarded as constituting an end in itself, and as not less inseparably one with wisdom and mental culture than form is with substance, body with soul, but simply as the means and instrument to an end external to itself, and consequently as destined to become comparatively valueless whenever the mental discipline for the sake of which such studies were prosecuted has been finally attained. The chief utility of the Un- iversity is here believed to consist in en- abling the student to direct his glance as wide- ly as possible over the whole field of science, and thus to enter upon a future course of specific study with all the intelligence and catholicity of spirit which a general acquaint- ance with a variety of subjects widely differing in character is likely to impart. Objections to §. 5, That a system of higher education found- the principle - _ . , , i r» n of a curricn-Cd upon such a principle stands latally open on lum of gene- gyery gidc to the severest criticism is immedi- ral study. "^ atily apparent. We will not dwell upon the difficulty of coming to any real and decided agreement with reference to the studies which — 55 — so unmistakably and preeminently deserve a place in a system of liberal education. What clear and absolute canon is there by which we can know what subjects to exclude? Are no studies to be represented in the University beyond the very limited number which can find place in such a curriculum? Or if nom- inally admitted by the creation of supplement- ary professorships are the individuals who hold appointments of this nature — constitut- ing as they soon would the vast majority of academic teachers — to remain without virtual influence or share in the life and workings of system by depending for a class upon those very exceptional instances where students could aiford time from the imposed labours of the University course for the thousand and one subjects which it did not embrace? The dif- ficulties in the way of such a plan are not at all diminished if we take into account the in- finite diversity of tastes and mental idiosyn- crasies which have already definitely manifested themselves in early manhood. Every decen- nium in advancing existing sciences farther on the way to perfection, and in calling new forms of knowledge into existence is furnish- ing a new means by which a corresponding — 56 — class of intellects can alone arrive at the de- velopement of their characteristic excellencies. §. 6. These however are but trifling cavils di- rected against mere external inconveniences in comparison with those objections which become apparent upon a closer examination of the essen- tials of the system. It is unnecessary to point out the extreme superficiality which must be an inherent characteristic of instruction communicated upon such a principle. Not only is the scattering of the attention over an in- definite number of heterogeneous subjects pro- verbially unfavourable to excellence in any, but the very circumstance that those branches of knowledge are prosecuted only for a brief period, and destined eventually to be cast aside for studies of an utterly different , nature is even more incompatible with that zeal and earnestness which is the indispensible condition of all depth and originality. §. 7. In spite moreover of the high sounding phrases which its advocates lavish upon the end they propose to attain, no one can fail to discern how immeasurably the University would sink below its high traditional office and its even yet vaguely recognised position if the utmost aims of academic teaching were merely — 57 — directed towards serving as the prelude to a still higher course of instruction. The function here assigned to the University is in fact that property belonging to the collegiate school, which is compelled to resort- to an education by means of generalities in consequence of the immaturity of the intellects with which it is called upon to deal. As an essentially practical art, education necessarily adapts itself to the nature and permanent conditions of the subject whose faculties it is intended to cul- tivate and develop. It is compelled to direct its efforts to the attainment, not of the most admirable end under all conditions whatsoever, but of the most excellent of those ends which are attainable under certain given circum- stances. It must advance and enlarge itself in accordance with the same law of unity of character combined with successively expand- ing diversity of form which regulates the growth of the individual mind. The type and order of its various metamorphoses must cor- respond throughout with those through which the individual passes in his progress to matur- ity. The strongly marked and essential dif- ference between the mental constitution of the boy and the man demands a distinction equally — 58 - broad and definite between the mode of edu- cation designed for each. The peculiar mental characteristics of boyhood all spring from the fact that it is merely the basis, so to say, of the intellectual faculties which is then existent. Memory, a lower form of imagination, and a certain ready receptivity are almost the only forms of intellect which appear with any pro- minence in a normally constituted boyish nature. Reason, and all power of originating are either utterly not existent or little more than foretold in embryo. The system of instruction adapted to meet the wants of such a period must lie similarly at the basis of all education and of all mental acquirements. It must be laid in the lower sphere of the intellect, which is pos- sessed by all healthy and properly organised-' natures, and not in that higher consciousness which even at manhood is vouchsafed to but few. Its chief aims will be to store the memory with those data which will serve as the materials of all positive knowledge*), to fill the imagination with noble images, and in the absence of any very decided indication of power in the di- *) ■navxav Ss iidliata ttjv iivi]jn]v rmv naCSav dcKSiv ■ual avvi^C^uv. Plut. de lib. educand. §. 13. — 59 — rection of one particular department to give that general discipline of the faculties which is sure to be useful in all. The highest excellence attainable at this stage of education consists in an unpretending solidity and thoroughness of acquirements. In consequence of the utterly undeveloped state of the reflective faculties, and the inability to look beyond facts to prin- ciples normally characteristic of this period, the highest form under which knowledge can as yet be communicated is that of rule. The most efficient schoolmaster is he who can best succeed, in imparting to his pupils a sound and thorough routine, the meaning and reason of which they will hereafter be in a condition to appreciate. All attempts to convey instruction by higher methods at a stage of developement when in accordance with the wise and unchan- ging design of nature, nothing beyond the merest rudiments of the intellect are existent, invari- ably result in verbosity, feebleness and dis- appointment. 'Der gute Schulmeister' says Lessing, 'soil seine Schiiler tuchtig einiiben und nicht mit ihnen prahlen'. It is a remark- able circumstance, and one most characteristic of the confusion and perversity prevalent on those subjects, that while public opinion is — 60 — setting strongly towards a scheme of study which would degrade the University into an unmeaning repetition of the school, demands not less clamorous are being made for a revol- ution in the mode of imparting preliminary education which would lead to a most abortive attempt on the part of the school to invade the province of the University. Us ori=-ii]. §• 8- That the plan of conveying the mental culture by means of a combination of various branches of knowledge belongs to the instruc* tion of the school, and has no connection with the principle of academic study is further ev- ident from a consideration of its origin. The entire conception is identical in principle , and in all probability historically derived from the syKVxha ^ad"i^L(,aTa of the Greeks, and the Trivium and Quadrivium of the later Eoman empire*). This course of instruction was con- fined in the times of antiquity to the higher' class of schools, and regarded as completely subordinate to what those hold the place of University study. We shall hereafter have *) The former consisted of Grammar, Dialectics, Rhe- toric, the latter of Arithmetic, Music, Geometry and Astronomy. — 61 — occasion to illustrate this point more fully. For the present we will merely refer the reader to p. 11 of Plutarch's life of Alexander (ed. Reiske), where the inferior position of the teachers of the syxvxhu is distinctly indicated, and also to §. 10 in the treatise by the same author de liberis educandis. In this last pf.s- sage Plutarch lays down the principle that a li- berally educated person should content himself with a general notion of such subjects, ax a;«- QadQO[i'^S [''CiQ'stv , coensQsl yEVficcTog svexsv, kv ccTtaGi yccQ to xbXelov advvaxov. The channel through which this plan of instruction has arri- ved at its present popularity is doubtless to be recognised in the original studies of the Faculty of Arts. This department of the University in the purely preliminary character which it con- tinued to maintain until the revival of letters is well known to have been entirely based upon the old Trivium and Quadrivium. §. 9. In one word such a scheme of academic study amounts to a mere compromise between the requirements of two essentially distinct forms of education, in which, as usual in such cases, the solid substance of the one and the boundless power of the other are equally sacri- ficed. Every step towards consistency forces — 62 — those who adopt this theory in still more un- comfortable proximity to one or other of the horns of an unrelenting dilemma. If they aim at propounding a plan of study which shall simply and strictly serve the purposes of general mental discipline they are compelled to fall back within the narrow limits of schoolboy education, while any attempt at an acquaint- ance however cursory with even the leading subjects of the cycle of liberal arts and sciences is physically incompatible with the time allot- ted to the entire course. §. 10. We are far from being disposed abso- lutely to condemn this system of education when considered simply by itself, and not forced into comparison with the infinitely higher tend- encies of the discipline whose name it usurps. In spite of the adage to the contrary even the most superficial acquaintance with science is not without its elevating and salutary influ- ence. Troublesome as is the spirit of talkat- iveness encouraged by debating societies, me- chanics institutes and other literary associations of a popular cast, their effects take them for all in all are we believe wholesomely stimul- ative and beneficial. The seminaries founded on the principle we have hitherto been dis- — 63 — cussing amount to a much more strict and permanently organised variety of the same class of institutions with results proportionably higher and more important. Their ill effects proceed not so much from themselves as from the virtual non-existence of a nobler and more masculine type of education, the very pres- ence of which would suffice to keep them in their proper place. Here as elsewhere it is quite possible for a first rate specimen of a lower class to be productive of much more practical good than an utterly degraded and enfeebled instance of a higher genus. Pupils formed under such a system may be expected to manifest a very considerable degree of that quickness and fluency which even the perseve- ring perusal of newspapers suffices to impart. Few topics can be stated respecting which they are altogether in the dark, and they are enabled to bear their part in a conversation somewhat above small talk with respectability and credit. As far as any decided results can well arise from a theory which contains so little that is either mentally or morally fruct- ifying, such institutions would seem to give promise of a plentiful crop of platform orators, ' able editors ' , and occasionally might even be — 64 — adorned with a tenth rate literateur. The highest results however attainable under such a system are ever found to be a large amount of merely general information, a smattering of many subjects but the mastery of none. IIov-' ^Vfiad'irj voov ov diddexsi, a delusive semi -edu- cation and in too many instances that know- ledge which puffeth up without edifying is all that can be anticipated from a scheme of ed- ucation so radically feeble and common place. Amongst our livelier and more exact allies on the other side of the channel, with whom causes hurry on to their legitimate effects far more rapidly and consistently than with us, the characteristic tendencies of this system of study are made apparent in the fact that learned ladies are we are told already beginning to compose an alarmingly considerable portion of the audiences of the college de France. The Univer- §.11. Excellent, nay absolutely necessary, as is formatui°e°d ^^^^ systom of imparting mental culture by means and manly ^f gubjects the most widc and general in their bearings during the mere prelude of the educa- tional process it is evident that a mode of in- struction which answers admirably with refe- rence to a mental constitution so simple and uniform as that of boyhood will no longer prove — 65 — applicable at a period when original thought, the reasoning powers, the productive imagina- tion — ^ in a word all that constitutes a well deiiiied individuality — is daily becoming pro- nounced with greater distinctness and energy. So infinite is the diversity of tendencies at this stage of mental developement, so manifold the methods which instinct and nature have point- ed out to each individual, as the means of at- taining to moral strength, and intellectual vi- sion, "that the curriculum of study had need be as wide as the universe itself in order to have any definite pertinency of application to the requirements of subjects so various. It is not by following after knowledge discursively through- out the endless multiplicity of its forms, still less by so -impotent an attempt at polymathia as that which we have been hitherto considering, but by mastering science as a power and a function that the mind and character can be trained for entering the lists of life with high hopes and steadfast assurance of success. Paltry and puer- ile as is the conception of the university enter- tained by those who would sweep away the significant forms and boundless capabilities of our ancient schools of learning for some of the patent educational humbugs of the canting — 66 — liberalism of the day, utterly incapable as they seem of establishing its operations upon any principle which would raise them into different category from those designed to drill the un- reasoning and half animal schoolboy, the terms which even they employ when speaking rather of the general aims of academic study than of the means by which they propose their attainment, prove how deeply seated is the notion that the instruction of the university should be regarded from no lower standing point than that which suggests itself on inquiring what is the fittest and worthiest mental training for men. Mistaken indeed is the notion which would cause education to cease at the very point where it begins to exhibit itself in its full per- ection and energy. Manhood evinces the ple- nitude of its power , and practically asserts the culmination of its faculties, in the inten- sified ability and earnestness with which it addresses itself to the search after that know- ledge and wisdom which constitutes the comple- tion of its being. No one more completely gave the tenour of a perfect life, or more tho- roughly read the riddle of human existence than the Athenian sage who tells us that as — .67 — an aged man he found himself none the less a student*). S. 12. Nor is that estimate of the University Tiie unWer- " _ ■' sity student which claims that its studies shouldbe in thorough a man in accordance with the tone of manly intellect a* s "'JJ* °c„n5^". all at variance with existing circumstances. t«'ion. Few individuals become members of an English University greatly below the age at which in countries more military than our own they would be called upon to do the first duty of an adult citizen by serving the state in arms. In the two great nations of antiquity the siprj- Poi stood first upon the muster roll of the state, and the same age seems afterwards to have been regarded as the fit period for entering upon the life of the University**). In mental *) yriQciaiim S' del itolla SiSadnoiisvog Solon. Fr. 19. See also Plato Laches p. 188—201. Amatores p. 133. Euthydem. p. 272—278. Erasmi Ad. p. 258. **) insiSav e^sto ^.Tjltapjjtxoi' ygaftfiatstov iyygaqpcofft, xat k'lprj^oi ysvcovtai. Lycnrg. adv. Leocr. c. 18. cited by Meineke Fragm. Com. Ill p. 528. The registration on the list of the lexiaroh was identical in point of time ■with entrance into the military service of the state. See Wachsmuth Hellen. Alterthum I p. 477. Respect- ing the university age in the school of Athens during the 2°* and 4* centuries see Philostrat. II p. 564. Morell. Eunap. pp. 126', 102, 82. Schott. 5* — 68 — no less than in bodily organisation the class who compose the bulk of University students have to all intents and purposes arrived at man's estate. Their frames are not yet filled out to their complete proportions , and still lack the compactness and solidity of manly prime, but these deficiencies are more than compen- sated by the freshness and eletsticity of youth. §.13. In perfect accordance therefore with this entire developement of the highest faculties of his nature the student in entering upon the stu- dies of the University has arrived at a stage of edu- cational culture not less essentially distinguished from those through which he has hitherto pas- sed than the mind and sphere of action assigned to the noblest and most admirably gifted man rise above the widest opportunities and capa- cities of a child. "He has entered upon the noblest heritage , and is henceforth called upon in self advancement to enjoy the magnificent faculties and means of higher being with which he has been entrusted. OsCav aQirjV ■^'p§«ro anavGtov xal e(i tains real ing agency the One must at the same time be existence on- many*). The Idea must exhibit the unbound- gnitude of ed fullness of the Being it comprehends through "^o^n^'e myriad fold forms of existence, each a perfect image bf the one common prototype. The in- tensity of its unity is not diminished by infi- nite distribution. Like the soul it is all and entire in every part. To suppose that the principle of highest Being is restricted to a single mode of manifestation would in effect contradict one of primary laws of its nature, which consists in the assertion of a triumphant superiority over the limitations of finite exis- stence. Absolute knowledge therefore as the counterpart of absolute being can exist in energy**) — as Aristotle phrases it — only by- means of a corresponding multiplicity of forms. Though one in spirit, and in the abstract, it will be many in actuality and the concrete ; one as a viewless and wholly indeterminable potency, *) Parmenides p. 142. omovv ansiqov av to TtXrjd-os ovxta TO £v dv £171; **) 6 vovg 6 KO!T ivsQyiiav ra ndvra voav. — 72 — many as far as all practical and educational purposes are concerned. True specula- §. 17. Nor is this view of the subject alone aiway^ir supportcd upou grouuds of theory and abstract companied spcculation. In cvcry instance of genuine ori- bias in ihe giuality a powerful mental bias in the direction direction of (j£ gQjQg q^q particular subject never fails to some particu- ■*■ ^ "^ lar study, manifest itself along with that activity of the reasoning faculties which constitutes the essen- tial characteristic of intellectual maturity. The most marked and striking peculiarity in the practical education of manhood when compar- ed with that of an earlier period is perceived in the fact of its being accomplished by means of specific and definite studies, instead of mere generalities. The strengthening and determin- ing of those tendencies whose harmoniously toned predominance gives character, and, so to say, expression to existence, nay the direct training of the more purely intellectual facul- ties is with the great majority of mankind the result of the mental habits and requirements arising out of the peculiar pursuit upon which the individual has been directed either from bent of natural , genius , or the concurrence of external circumstances. Such is unmistakeably the fact, nor is the ratio at all a matter of uu- — 73 — certainty. The fulness of time has arrived for the application in the sphere of the particular, and practical of those faculties which have hitherto only been exercised, or rather sought af- ter, in the region of the general. Action, which guided by design is, of course, preeminently the vocation of the man, deals always, accord- ing to Ai'istotle*), with the individual instance. The accompanying energies of the intellect are in like manner therefore collected in undi- vided force and intensity upon the mastery of that one particular subject under which these individuals are embraced. Universality, on the other hand, and comprehensiveness of mind are to be obtained, not by the mechanical method of cramming the rudiments of as many different sciences as the memory will contain, but by searching into one subject in its depth and fulness, by penetrating to the cognition of the fundamental truth in all its self neces- sity, and endless capacity of application. In a far more profound and pregnant accepta- tion is the culture of the intellect here un- derstood than in the crude and ill conceived *) Metaphys. A. 1. 981 a. at Sh n^d^sig v.al at ysvs- astg Jtacai Jieql to Ka9' 'iv-aexov sIblv. — 74 — attempts at its attainment perceived in the schemes of education of which we have previous- ly treated. Every true and perfect science, nay to go farther every entire and ideal thought holds potentially involved within itself the whole universe of truth. It furnishes a norm and keynote of harmony, in accordance with which every further discovery will, if genuine, neces- sarily be attuned. Not only therefore does it ingraft within the subject a germ of that in- finite productivity of the Idea which Bacon speaks of, but even in the lower region of his every day consciousness it foreshadows and re- veals an image of the totality of knowledge*). It is not therefore by the sacrifice, but by the zealous encouragement of that individual capa- city and genius which betrays the instinctive striving after the comprehensive mastery of the special that the University, standing, as it does, on the threshold of the intellectual career of manhood will impart the form and method by which breadth of views, and totality of con- templation, with its attendant humanizing in- fluences on the moral character are most surely to be attained. *) See Schelling Acaderaische Vorlesungen p. 44. — 75 — §. 18. Nor is it merely an infinitely more sound The cuuwa- and genuinely liberal tone of sentiment wliichj!°„iJ i^^^Ii! results from this pursuit of the Absolute in and "•'=^°f «"''"' 1 11 .1 X • 1 *''^ only con- through the particular. It constitutes the only anion under condition under which powers and qualities the '"'""'^ ^'°' ^ ^ duclivuy is most mighty and commanding, the existence of conceivable. which is in itself the sum of human felicity and greatness, can possibly be manifested. The godlike p^iwer of productivity, whether evinced in the purely ' intellectual efforts of the philo- sophical and artistic imagination, or in the less infrequent, but not less thought-directed forms of practical originality and moral purpose, is alone conceivable where all the energies are concentrated upon the entire and signal ful- filment of one high end, and the mastery of one comprehensive subject. The highest ex- cellence — and no lower object can be propos- ed by him who is destined to accomplish what is even creditable — is alone to be attained by one who does not disperse, but gathers his powers of perception into a piercing intensity and sin- gleness of view, enabling him to reach beyond the facile and common place into the dim and distant region of the undiscovered. The law of genial precognition in the subject is in the highest degree analogous with that of — 76 — life aud beauty in the object, Intensest uni- ty*) is the soul of contemplation, and ideal action no less than of creative organisation. §. 19. Progress in any particular science is the result of the thorough mastery of those highest principles which involve not merely endless re- sults when subjected to the process of logical deduction, but furnish the starting point for an infinite variety of synthesis to the mind which can look beyond the necessary imperfection of the proposition in which they are conveyed to the unfathomable mystery of their proper Being. So thorough an insight into any department of knowledge demands of course the most absolute command of all its details superinduced upon a profoundly meditative and suggestive intel- lect. The whole subject must have been ren- dered so familiar, that all the phaenomena it embraces become transparent media for the sug- gestion of the principle which lies beyond them. The entire mass of facts in the science great and small must have so completely formed a part of the instinctive, and half unconscious operations of his mind , that they rise sponta- *) Philolaus ed. Boeckh. p. 61. Ttolvfiiyiiav evaais. — 77 — neously and without effort to his recollection*). Scientific advance is so frequently furthered by questions suggested to a thoughtful mind by ex- ternal phaenomena, and hitherto unobserved ano- malies, that the smallest fact, the most appa- rently trifling minutiae, are precious to the stu- dent who has within him the gift of discovery. Neither of the requisites so essential to fertil- ity and advance in knowledge, neither the grasp of particulars, nor the more transcendent faculty of divining from hitherto neglected phaenomena the deeper truths to which they point, is at all possible without a concentrated energy of thought and observation utterly in- compatible with the simultaneous prosecution of a medley of literary and scientific subjects. §. 20. Could no other objection be brought against the polytechnic, polyhistoric seminaries now so much the rage their evident inadequacy to impart that profundity of acquirements which is the ground of all genuine independence of thought would essentially and utterly disqualify them from furnishing the pattern of University *) The details of the subject must have been posses- ed with what the schoolmen call a cognitio in actu ct in habitu. See also Dial, de Orator. 8, 33. — 78 — study. The words of Schelling: ' Lerne urn pro- ductiv zu werden', learn in order to produce, should be indelibly engraven on the memory and attention of every University student. The advancement of science according to Savigny constitutes the specific feature of difference which distinguishes the University from the humbler stages of the educational system. The Professor is called upon to teach science inthe very process of expanding its developement, and by the encouragement of his example to sti- mulate and evoke a similar faculty in his pupils. §. 21 . Nor is this all. The sacred enthusiasm of Love, which Christianity has so profoundly brought to light as the vital element of -that spi- ritual Being which is all consciousness , and all action, demands as the very condition of its es- sence the notion of the distinctest preference. That this divinest sentiment of our nature finds its true and natural object in the eternal verities of science, no less than in the reciprocating consciousness of another personality, none who are capable of appreciating either will be dis- posed to doubt for an instant. The devotion felt by noble and self sufficing natures even for the individual has far more reference to perfection and beauty of character, to the truth — 79 — and meaning conveyed in every act and word, than to the mere naked human unit. In asserting that no eminent example which gave heart and inspiration to all uncorrupted natures, no invention or discovery in phy- sics, no revelation in mind, has ever been ac- complished without a zeal for the particular de- partment in which the faculty was exercised which amounted to an absorbing passion, we are simply bearing witness to the existence of a law which history small and great, declares to be without exception. Nor let it be ima- gined that those remarks apply only to the highest products of intellectual greatness, where few, we imagine, will be inclined to dispute their justice. The most humble and ordinary mode of usefulness and efficiency in life demands a lower, but not less decided, bent of heart, and mind, and soul, and strength, in one direction, and upon one well selected object. §. 22. The University therefore, as being no The same wholesale manufactory of female pedants, or ^^l"^f."^^"^^_ schoolboy prodigies, but a training school for he- ' cessariiy , 1 j_ r TT 1 adopted as the roic men , a palaestra tor Jlerculean natures, basis and law must, and practically does, enforce the same truth °' ^'"■'^"■^"y in adopting, as the fundamental law of its or- ganisation, the sternest concentration of labour — 80 - and study upon one field of exertion. In accordance with the very simplest, and most general regulations of its original form — as will hereafter be seen more fully — every one who attached himself to a community of this description was at once directed to enrol himself amongst the members of some particular Fa- culty, or division of University instruction. At the very outset of his academic career he was thus called upon to devote himself to one de- partment of knowledge, the prosecution of which became from henceforth .associated with the essential elements of his individual existence. The subject to which the student was thus for- mally apprenticed by the University was selected not merely with the view of assigning a direc- tion to scientific industry, but of furnishing the future means of bodily support. The Univer- sity, in consistency with what we have above laid down as the strictest law of its nature, is designed quite as much to ensure the subsis- tence of the outer, as the glorified renewal of the inner man. In one word concentrated' study necessarily implies professional study. Such a condition was necessarily attached, not only from the fact that otherwise the favourite study would soon have found a most formidable — 81 — rival in the occupation upon which the individual was obliged to depend for his daily bread, but as a means of supplementing the scientiiic in- struction of the University with the subtlety of observation, and thorough command of the subject, which practical familiarity so peculi- arly affords. In qualifying himself to come before society in the character of a Professor of learning or science in some of its specific forms the student enriched his whole nature with a new function, he becamed gifted with a scien- tific organ, the possession of which was not only a mode of thought, and form of inward devel- opement, but at the same time constituted the leading and mos.t- prominent feature of his so- cial life. This subject he declared to be his forte , the ground of his personal efficiency. Here he took his stand in the struggle of life, and on this point he professed himself ready, and competent, to meet any demands at all in accordance with the existing stage of scientific advancement. The character and qualities with which the University invested him were not those of a well informed man, or of general culture in the form of a shadowy and empty abstraction. Its arrangements were so contrived as to impart the most sublime and elevated 6 — 82 — wisdom, the. most noble and comprehensive humanity, in a form the most distinct and tangible. It is ever thus with those thoughts whose greatness lies rather in the concep- tion than in the statement. The more genu- ine and universal the principle the more marked and characteristic the individuality of form. §. 23. In speaking of professional study as the basis of the University system there is no dan- ger, we would fain hope, of our being so ut- terly misunderstood as to be supposed desirous of restricting the educational usefulness of academic institutions to instruction in those departments which in common parlance are de- signated as such. Far from being limited to a sphere so narrow it is, we hold it, the especial aim and office of the University to exalt every noble and liberal study to the scientific per- fection and exactness of discipline which is included in the very name of Profession. Any and every subject has a right to this desig- nation which admits of being prosecuted as a science, and practised as an art ; which can be intellectually summed up in formula of absolute truth on the one hand , and employed as a means, and mode of individual action on the — 83 — other. Learned and philosophical studies in ever increasing multiplicity become through the instrumentality of the University peculiarly and preeminently professional. It affords to "the scholar and scientific investigator that precision and severity of intellectual training which makes him perfect in his department, and furnishes at the same time a field of action in whichto give practical scope and effect to his acquirements. Opportunities of professional usefulness on the part of the regularly trained teachers of learning and science would not, of course, be confined to those afforded in the sphere of purely academic life. The University is itself only the highest and most conspicuous instance of a socially organised body in which erudition and scientific enquiry constitute the chief business, and instruction the sole profes- sion of life. The example thus set forth is re- flected in numberless other learned institutions of minor dignity and importance, which are meant to carry the influences of the central life into the remotest corners of the system. In supplying schools and colleges throughout the nation with a class of highly educated and scholarly intel- lects the university maintains a living circu- lation of the noblest agencies. The ordinary — 84 — professions, we may finally remark, arise out of the imperative and unavoidable wants of every community, that of learning is maintained by the ideal aims and free intellectual activity of a mentally energetic and highly cultivated community. §. 24. The immediate and primary result of this plan of university study was that of arming the whole man to meet the emergencies of his coming life, under the two great forms in which they were certain to present themselves. The purposes of such a mode of education were in the highest degree practical and soberminded, without thereby becoming mean, or utilitarian. It strove to insure to the individual the most ho- nourable avraQxeoa. Intheinstruction wherewith ' he was furnished by the University the student had put into his hands a two - edged weapon ul- timately indeed intended to enable him to do good service in a far nobler cause than that of self, but at the same time not too delicate to admit of being brought to bear most efficiently against all that stood in his way in the ruder contest of every day life. Its objects were far more earnest and severely practical than those of the mere elegant and enervated dilettantiism of a cloistered and unproductive contemplation • — 85 — utterly dissevered from those homely occasions of physical life which keep us in such close and constant relation with wholesome reality, and the refreshing, life maintaining bosom of mother earth. It can never be sufficiently remembered that in the University, as in every institution social and political which has within itself the grounds of a permanent and extensive utility, the guiding principle of its arrangements must be an endeavour to meet the loftiest' aspirations of the spirit, while professing little more than to pro- vide for the necessities of the body. It is even so with nature, who in her masterpiece of creative design has established the physical constitution and instincts of an animal as the starting point for the hopes and faculties of a demigod. The selfsame principle lies deep at the rootof the'collective humanity of the state, which the greatest of philosophers has described as yty- vo^EV7]v [lev tov ^ijv avsxsv, ovGccv Ss rov av i,'fjv.*). Art again, the quintessence of life and nature, is never so perfect as when in ostensibly promising to meet only the homeliest require- ments of physical necessity it surprises with the free gift, and unanticipated presence of ideal dig- *) Aristotle Pol. I, 2. — 86 — nity. In a manner precisely similar did the University enlist in its service that lower exis- tence which it is called upon to hold in sub- jection, and drew from the cravings of daily life the occasion for its noblest and most ele- vated influences. To the forgetfulness of this principle, and to the consequent substitution of a system of academic study ignoring so deep and powerful a trait of human character the Universities are iindoubtedly in no small de- gree indebted for the comparative insignificance into which they have since fallen. No graver or more fatal mistake can be made by those who find themselves called upon to perform the grandest office of a statesman in calling in- stitutions into existence than by forgetting the permanent preponderance of the animal and external nature in the vast majority of man- kind. The celibacy of the priesthood, and numberless other pernicious peculiarities of the Romish system furnish instances of the fright- ful effects to which attempts to ignore this cir- cumstance inevitably lead. A system of acad- emic study which has no direct and pal- pable reference to the wordly advantage of its pupils, which does not in the plainest and most unmistakeable manner conduce to success — 87 — in their several callings, can -reckon upon no decisive weight, or commanding influence, in an age and country like that in which we live. An institution which stakes its whole credit and power in society upon refinement and in- telligence not evinced in any one particular form of efficiency, will inevitably disappear more and more from connexion with the world of flesh and blood into a kindred cloudland of unrealities and abstractions. Nothing, we are convinced, but the sacred name of the Uni- versity, the memory of what it has been in an eventful past, and a lurking consciousness of what it ought yet to be, has prevented such a consummation from having long since taken place. That such a result cannot always be deferred but little reflection is required to make evident. With the progress of civilisation, and the consequent widening extent, and incre- asing complexity of human action, life is daily becoming more feverish, anxious, and difficult. Time is more precious to all, and especially to theprofessional classes, who, it may be remarked, are far from profiting to the same extent with the commercial and labouring population in the openings afforded by the growth of ■colonial prosperity, and the prodigious material devel- opement of tbe age. Under such circumstances it is a grave question whether it will always be possible for that higher middle class upon which the University must mainly depend for its support to bestow so large a portion of the best years of life, together with a heavy pe- cuniary outlay, upon what the vast majority will regard as the mere luxuries of education. Even the more sensible of the body we refer to will be inclined to question whether mental training, and general intelligence will not be attained far more thoroughly and surely in acquiring the knowledge requisite for the pe- culiar avocation of the individual, if not in the practical schooling of life. The many, it has often been remarked, are the patrons of the present d^y; and their support will in the long run only be bestowed upon such educational institutions as approve their usefulness in advancing material success. We are far from thinking lightly or irreverently of the soul which resides in the organised masses of the community. The ultimate tendencies of public institutions can never be made too noble or exalted. Their immediate purpose, on the other hand, cannot be too strictly directed to the plainest utility. The broader the basis — 89 — of the University in the wants and inter- est of actual human nature, the higher will it be enabled to culminate into the atmo- sphere of ideal humanity, the nQog o of his- tory,*) which, though by no means to be cal- culated on, is yet mysteriously present as the very mightiest power in political existence. §. 25. How completely this by no means distant- ly threatening danger is averted by the principle of concentrated, and professional instruction we need not stop to explain. By founding the whole system of academic training upon the zealous prosecution of one favourite study, eminence' in which is equivalent to no small measure of worlly prosperity, it is easy to perceive that the very carnal minded, and material spirit of the times, which has been so slowly and surely sapping at the founda- tions of the University will contribute to give them additional massiveness^ and solidity, without in the slightest degree detracting from the elevated character of the end proposed. In imparting fitly, and thoroughly, the theore- tical knowledge required for the practice of a learned profession, the purest and loftiest mental *) Plut. de placitis philosophor. p. 882. ed. Eeisk. — 90 — culture will of necessity be involved. The blessings of high and absolute intellectual activity will thus spread theinselves throughout the entire social organization, reaching hundreds who neither can nor will sacrifice time and money to the attainment of an object to them so vague and visionary as general refinement and humanity. Apart however from all con- siderations of expediency the influence of uni- versity study would be lamed and paralysed to the extent of one half of its usefulness, were its operations confined to the mens divinior in man, even supposing that the difficult problem of reaching the higher nature otherwise than through the medium of, and in conjunction with, the lower had been satisfactorily accomplished. §. 26. It is hardly necessary to remind the rea- der that while thus regarding the essential pecu- liarity of academical education as founded upon the sel^ption of one subject, upon the acquisition of which the university student is directed to bend the undivided energies of his nature, with the distinct purpose of hereafter becoming an instructor orpractitoner in the same department we are far from wishing to be un- derstood as recommending an entire and literal exclusion from his notice of all other learned, — 91 — or scientific topics. All that wei -would advocate is the necessity of definitely establishing some one form of knowledge around which all other requirements should group and arrange themsel- ves as the centre of a mental organisation. The more extensive the multiplicity of detail consistent with strongly expressed, and predominant unity, the richer, of course, and ampler will be the hafmony of the whole. Mere unity, unbalanced by the presence of it correlative, shrivels up into the nothingness of a mathematical point. Paradoxical however as in some respectsthe as- sertion may appear, it is nevertheless most im- portantly true that, though in existence unity and multiplicity ever hold each other in equilibrio, the preponderance and centre of igravity in the highest, and most powerful forms of life, is al- ways to be found on the side of unity. While forming the widest acquaintance with science in all its varieties — while feeling the liveliest interest in every shape and manifestation of the godlike striving after knowledge — the study for the mastery of which every force and fa- culty has mustered its utmost energies will only be heightened thereby in its prominent and so- vereign importance. He acquaints himself lar- gely with other subjects, but solely in oder to — 92 — illustrate, enrich, and confirm, his knowledge of his own. §. 27. But, it is not merely when considered on grounds of abstract psychology that the plan of imparting wisdom and power by means of the most severely expressed and pregnant unity of study approves itself in accordance with the genuine aims and character of the schools of manly education. The same conclusion is not less forcibly suggested upon an investigation into the origin and developement of the exis- ting system of academic instruction, as exhibi- ted in the most eminent and important | Univer- sities ef our own, and former ages. Even in the case of those which have deflected farthest from the originally controlling influence the possession of this principle supplies the secret of their an- cient greatness, and the clue to the aberrations and anomalies of their subsequent decline. The history of this ennobling form of educational culture is throughout consistent and conclusive, furnishing as it advances more and more vivid instances of one ever present law of mental action, and leaving, we are presuaded, little doubt that the principle, which, we have seen, has reason so decidedly on its side, is not less equivocally supported by fact also. m. THE HISTORICAL ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OP UNI- VERSITY STUDY. §. 1. The paramount importance assigned Higiier eciu- to the subject of education in all the noblest "g^^uerpe-" states of antiquity, and the earnestness with""'** "*''''''''' ^ •' ' . history. which their most celebrated lawgivers exerted themselves to carry outthe principle of mental and moral advancement to the utmost con- ceivable perfection, are every- where cons- picuous ^ at the earliest period at which Hel- lenic genius and culture assume their distinct historic character. The existence of a com- plete, and minutely organised system of edu- cational arrangements, is from the first ob- servable in those communities which exhibit the most strongly expressed, and consistent ex- amples of the Greek conception of the state. The education of the youth of the country was — 94 — considered as the basis of all the future in- fluences of the state, the ground and warrant of its best anticipations from the citizen*). Far from abandoning this subject to the pos- sible inattention, or excentric fancies of individ- uals, the state conceived that, as the common parent, its most sacred duty, and most vital interests, would be equally neglected, if the highest mind of the whole community were not directly, and constantly, brought to bear upon a question of such inconceivable importance to the individual, and the nation. In Sparta the workings of the whole educational machinery were placed under the supervision of an espe- cial minister of state, the itaidovo^os, and the individual appointed to this office was selected from amongst those who had previously been invested with the highest political dignities**). A similar degree of attention was directed to this subject by the Pythagorean statesmen of the Greek cities in Italy, and even in Athens as we learn from Plato, parents were compel- led to provide for the instruction of their *) This sentiment is most emphatically expressed in Plato's Euthyphron p. 2. See also Legg. VI, p. 765 ete. **) Xenoph. de Eep. Lac. 11, 2. — 95 — children*) in gymnastics, and fiovGix'^ — a sub- ject including what we should now call the ru- diments of polite literature, and even the first elements of ethical doctrine**). ^ §. 2. From the very primitive and unformed condition in which science of every kind contin- ued to exist Until shortly before the time of Plato and Aristotle, to say nothing of the scanty and limited extent to which the materials for lear- ned study were then extant, it is evident that, all interesting , and invaluable as are the institu- tions and precepts of the philosophers and legislators of earlier Greece, from the light they throw upon the nature and ultimate aims of education, they can supply at the utmost but distant, and general analogies with reference to the peculiar and distinctive functions of the several parts of a system of instruction pro- vided in accordance with requirements of which that age had not as yet become conscious. Xe- *) Crito p. 50, cited by Graefenhahn, Geschichte der Class. Litterat. im Alterthum. See also passage from the Comic Poet Alexis Meinecke, Fragm. Com. LXXXI. "Qui Athenienses aitideo oportere laudari, quod omnium Graeeorum legea cogunt parentes ali a liberis , Athe- niensium non omues, nisi qui liberos artibns erudissent." **) See Plato Protag. p. 328. — 96 — nophon, or whoever else is the author of the treatise derepublica Lacedaemoniorum, informs us that the state of Lycurgus regarded the education of the ri^avtes as infinitely transcend- ing in importance and dignity that of a period' less mentally and physically developed, and less capable of moral good and evil. Notwith- standing this general conviction of the necessity for a more advanced form of instruction the -training of those who had advanced beyond childhood partook even more strongly of the character of a practical discipline than the educational stages by which it had been pre- ceded. Vigour and manly dignity of character, as exhibited in deeds of positive morality {aQsvri, avdqaytt&Cu) , still constituted the high- est form of excellence placed before the com- ing man, just as obedience {nBi&aQ%ia) , moral purity {amfpQoevviq) ^ and reverence (at'drag), had been almost exclusively inculcated in child- hood. — It was reserved for a later period, and for a more intellectually progressive portion of the Hellenic race to recognise in knowledge and mental power the highest condition, and absolute end of human existence.*) The en- *) yuQ loyoq ruiiv v.al 6 vovg trjs (ptiascos tilog. Aritsotle. — 97 — tire scientific attainments of the times in which the Dorian commonwealths had their period of pertinency were expended in the pregnant apophthegms, *) the heroic ballads, and the mas- culine, Handelian music, which formed the prin- cipal components of the mental training of boy- hood. Positive instruction had herein reached its farthest limits. The man was henceforth called upon to enact deeds similar in spirit to those which he had been taught to remember, and revere. The only higher school into which he now passed was that of the public service. The grandly suggestive forms, and sublime tendencies of the state were designed to set before the man a still loftier, more serious, and more impressive manifestation of the principle of the nobly beautiful {xa^ov)**) which had been throughout the keynote of his previous edu- cation. This notion that the state is the *) These brief and sententious aphorisms were not in reality peculiar to the Spartans , but simply a remnant of the pithy and proverblike form in which the most ancient philosophy of the Greeks was embodied. Sec the celebrated passage in the Protagoras of Plato p. 342 — 444. **) The phrase tk KciXd was the regular expression for a refined and liberal education. See Xen. Hellen. V, 3, 9. Cyr. I, 2, 15. Compare also Aristoph. Ean. 729. school- for men, noUg avdga didaOxst,, thougl most emphatically expressed amongst the Dori ans, who were, indeed little more than the strict est and straitest sect of the practical politieianf of Greece, was scarcely less adhered to in the antagonistic element of the common race.*) — In the magnificently eloquent harangue ir which Pericles has idealised the excellence! of the state he had exalted to a grandeur of supra macy so nobly contrasting with its diminutivf extent, and insignificance in point of materia resources, he sums up all the glories of th( Athenian people in the fact that their com monwealth was not only the most 9,dmirabl] perfect training school of its own citizens, bu served at the same time as the means o education (natdEvSis) to the entire civilize( world. **) Oratory and §. 3. At the period hcrc referred to the prin hoM iho rink ciplss of poHtical existence which lived in thi and position Hellenic race whilst remaining substantially thi of a reg-ular i i i i profession in samo, had nevertheless entered upon a newpnasi the states of . antiquity. ^^ g^^ pj^^^ Protag. p. 32 b. insiSav S' h SiSamd Xcav cntaXlaycoBiv r] noXig av rovg ts voiJtovg dvay^id^s fiav9av£LV -Aal naxa xovrovg ^yv ^ara TtccqdSeiyiia n T. k. Compare also Gorg. p. 517. **) Thucyd. II, 4.1. — 99 — of development. The glory of the Dorian citizen had consisted in becoming the organ of the state, that of the Athenian was sought for in the ac- quisition of an intellectual dominion in , and over the state. The example of the extra - ordinary man to whom we have already re- ferred had given the most striking and con- spicuous proof of the more than regal authority which the itQatog avrjQ could wield in a government where scarcely the slighest check, or balance to the popular will had been suf- fered to exist. On the other hand the utter sweeping away of the support afforded by forms of state, and positive institutions, had driven the nation when deprived of the masterly in- tellect, and steadfast will, which had hitherto supplied the place of governmental organi- zation, to throw itself in utter' helplessness into the arms of the I first bold and confident ad- venturer who undertook the responsibility of command. Honour and emolument in profusion, . unlimited power, the more fascinating to a quick witted and aspiring people , from the ac- knowledgment of intellectual superiority which it involved, all contributed to render the as- cendancy over the Athenian demos scarcely less alluring to every ardent and ambitious — 100 — spirit during the era of the great Peloponnesian contest than the occupancy of the throne itself had proved in the earlier periods of Grecian history. — le Sophists. §.4. The eager emulation which arose between icret of their ^]^g numerous competitors for the sovereignty muuence, ^ 01/ over the popular will, as well as the refined fas- tidiousness and intellectual subtlety of the au- dience before- whom their claims were to be approved , soon rendered the necessity for theo- retical attainments and scientific training im- perative upon all who aspired to distinction and success in the one great field of enterprise and activity for every Athenian. Public life had developed itself into a systematic and le- gitimate career, in which the correspondence of means to ends had become thoroughly un- derstood; and the simple and purely general education of former ages was no longer found sufficient to satisfy the requirements of a mode of activity as refined and complicated in its workings as the professional industry of mo- dern times. — To meet these demands, and to furnish to the noblest born, and most intelligent portion of the Athenian youth that scientific method which should serve at once as the ca- non for action, and the nucleus of future ex- — 101 — perience a new class of instructors, the So- phists, or professores artium, were called into existence. *) The limits of the present treatise do not permit us to enter into any detailed ac- count of the history and doctrines of those re- markable men, respecting whose influence and importance opinions so various and conflicting have been entertained. Suffice it to say that- in the circumstances above referred to many of the most singular and otherwise inexplicable peculiarities in their history and character find their full interpretation. In the fact that an ac- tual profession — and one too of the highest order — had for the first time arisen in the social horizon, that new educational wants had pre- ceded, and loudly called for their appearance we obtain a far more satisfactory explanation of the marvellous success which attended their teaching, the princely fortunes they amassed, and the rapturous enthusiasm with which they were welcomed, than can be discovered in any *) 7]V (S8iv6rrjTa noXitmiiv %al Sqaetriqiov avvsaiv) ot fista tavta (li'laj'TEg Tsxvaig iiai fisTayayovtsg atto rav ^gd^scov trjv aaxTjaiv iTcl rois i.6yovg aotpLaral Ttqoai^yo- Qsvd-rjaav. Plut. vit. Themistocl. cited by CresoU. Theatr. Ehet. I. 4. — 102 — fragmentary specimens of their literary produc- tions which have comedown to later ages.*) • — §. 5. The Sophists peculiarly addressed them- selves to that thirst for intellectual supremacy, as expressed in the forms of political power, which was the master passion of that period. **) They declared themselves absolutely competent to afford a mastery of the secrets of power so complete as to enable its possessor to command the implicit obedience of his countrymen, and by able administration to derive the fullest ad- vantage from the position to which he had thus attained. That an insight into causes, and an acquaintance with scientific method can have no other effect upon practical experience than that of endlessly increasing its precision and efficien- cy was a deeply rooted, and, characteristic con- viction of the best era of Athenian ***) history. *) 266. Roller, die Gr. Sophisten p. 2. Cresoll. Tlieatr. Eliet. V. 5. **) Plato Gorg. pp. 452—454. ***) Tliuc. II. 40. ov xovq loyovg toig k'^yotg ^kd^riv rj. yovfisvoi , aXXa fit] nqoSiSax&ftvai [laXXov Xoyca n^otsqov rj sm, 5 Sst tQyo} ^l&eCv. See also Menauder Fr. 267- "ElXrjvsg statv ccvSqss ov% ayvcofiovsg, %a), fista Xoyiafiov mivra TtQartovai'v zivog. — 103 — The very earliest orators endeavour to base their art upon certain theoretic principles, and the Sophists, as the sole possessors of the learning and systematic knowledge of that period, were long the instructors of the statesmen and ad- vocates ((Swi^yoQai,) who composed the higher world in the leading people of Greece. Not only do we read that men like Thucydides, Alcibiades and Theramenes were trained in the schools of the Sophists*), but even the most turbulent and contemptible demagogues are said to have found it expedient to adopt a similar course. **) §. 6. That the existence of the Sophists is dis- tinctly to be referred to the rise of the various professions connected with public life is evident from the fact that Protagoras, the most acute, and speculatively important amongst the apost- les of the sect expressly describes himself in Plato as a teacher of political science. ***) At a later period the chair assigned to this subject in the school of Athens was regularly held by a sophist. The elder sophists, it is *) Euhnken. Dissertatio de Antiplioute. **) Aristoph. Nub. 875. cited in Bernhardy. Grundriss der Gr. Litt. I. p. 335. ***) Plato Protag. p. 168. — 104 — well known, were often employed in embassies and public missions in which the gravest public interests were concerned. The same connection between Sophistry and the grander forms of prac- tical life is further attested in the frequency with which we find individuals of this class appointed to civil offices of a more than usually responsible and important nature. Isocrates himself is said to have acted as private secretary to Conon,*) and numerous instances of a similar nature are mentioned in the historians and biographers of the third and fourth centuries after Christ. As the most finished and highly cultivated form of ora- tory sophistry naturally stood in the closest rela- tion with jurisprudence. Professors of the art are frequently described as acting both in the capaci- ty of teachers and advocates Those of the number who confined themselves exclusively to legal prac- tice (ot fisx^l rdv Gavidav aal tov /JjjftaTOg) are said to have been held in lower estimation [eme- ^sSTSQoi)**). The forensic sophists (oi dixccvixol QTjroQEg), ***) though often described as coming *) Photius Bibl. Cod. 260. **) Werusdorf Vit. Nimerii p. 47. ***) Philostr. II. p. 509. Morell. The term ?'ijT(op as compared with aocpLGfrjg, is employed to denote the Pro- fessor of legal and political oratory, in contradistinc- — 105 — off the worse in their encounters with the har- der headed and more knowing ayo^atoi , seem on the whole to have been regarded as the more educated and gentlemanly portion of the juristic body , and to have maintained with reference to the former a position analogous to that which the advocate as compared to the solicitor holds with us. Libanius in his epistles refers moreover to no- table instances where Sophists had achieved a greater amount of success as lawyers than had fallen to the lot of their more practically trained antagonists. §, 7. Born as it was out of a condition of rnherem T .1 . - T .1 vices of the daily increasing and ever more, aggravated system social disorder the vocation of the Sophist could not be otherwise than deeply tainted with the profligate and unprincipled character of the times in which it originated. The entire system furnish- ed a complete reflex of the utter unbelief which had taken possession of the minds of men in the period intervening between the departure of tion to those who taught the art in its more gene- ral bearings and power of application. Amongst the Romans the expression rhetor was used with reference to the teacher of Latin literature while aocpiarrig denote one who publicly professed that of Greece. See CresoU Theatr. Ehet. I. 1. 2. — 106 — the simple and ancestral faith of the nation, and the rise of the clear and steadfast convictions hy which its place was ultimately destined to be supplied. Far from seeking to give the inward strength of truth and solid knowledge the Sophists made the denial of both the very keystone of their system of instruction. Objective reality of every kind they utterly impugned , maintaining that intellectual superiority simply consists in the power of producing a vividness of subjective impression in the minds of others. The baser and more paltry [tendencies of sophistic educa- tion are conspicuously seen in the regular train- ing which it furnished to the class of profes- sional demagogues. Oratorical persuasiveness and power were of course recognised as the one great engine for working upon the passions of the populace. Fluency on a vairety of topics, and dexterity in the use of that simpler logic which, as Aristotle tells us, the many are com- petent to appreciate and enjoy, also suggested themselves as well adopted to dazzle and aston- ish, even where more important results could not be secured. The instruction of the Sophists aimed accordingly at imparting an acquaintance with a system of political artifices, highly coloured and declamatory rhetoric, multifarious infer- — 107 — mation, and skill of fence in gladiatorial dia- lectics.*) — §. 8. The apologists of this class of pseudo politicians have been fond of dwelling upon the fact that all the accounts we possesss of the Sophists are derived from their avowed an- tagonists forgetting ^themselves to notice who these antagonists after all are. Unfortunately for those whose cause they espouse they hap- pen to be in every instance precisely the most virtuous, most healthy minded, and most discerning men of the time. The entire age in the person of those who constitute its history has pronounced its unerring, and unalterable verdict upon the character and tendencies of the sophistic system. In spite of the un- questionably great abilities of the leading So- phists, their doctrine and plan of instruction was essentially antiphilosophic,**) and carried in its bosom the seeds of its own speedy dis- solution. The shameless avowal of systematic *) Aristoph. Nub. 267. 316. 444. sqq. Wachsmuth, Hellen. Alterthumskunde I. §. 62. **) Compare the favourite , and characteristic dogma of Protagoras Svo loyovg slvcci ^sqI navtos nqayiiaioq dvrmsi^svovg dXX'^XoLg Diogen. Laert. quoted by Brandis Handbuch der Gesoh. der Gr. Philos. I. p. 529. — 108 — selfishness, and the denial of the possibility o absolute knowledge,*) which formed the be ginning and end of their creed was of cours diametrically at variance with the scientific uni versality of all professional study, and thus cor tradicted the very first requirements of th education they were called upon to impart. - Difference §-9. The great and Striking difference betwBe: between ear- ^j^^ earlier and latter professors of the sophisti her and la- ^ ^ ter Sophists, art must not however be forgotten. Protagora by no means disclaimed the intention of imparl ing a morally elevating mental culture to hi pupils,**) and in all that concerns persons conduct and demeanour his character, like tha of Gorgias andProdicus, is invariably depicts by Plato in a spirit of marked admiration ani respect. The elder Sophists seem never to hav gone further than a dallying with scepticisn while Polus, Thrasymachus, Diagoras, and othe younger representatives of the school gloried i *) Brandis Handbuch der Gesch. der 6r. Philosophi I. p. 525 sqq. Roller die Gr. Sophisten. p. 21. **) Plato Protag. p. 328. The liberality of spirit exl bited by Protagoras in all pecuniary transactions with i pupils is borne witness to by Plato in the same pa sage. — 109 — figuring as the advocates of the coarsest pro- fligacy and atheism.*) — §. 10. Thoroughly possessed as were even the Redeeming element in the most eminent and accomplished of the Sophists sophistic with the delusive notion of cultivating the in- ^y^'^™- tellect as a mere mechanical force capable of being turned indifferently to the accomplishment of good or evil,**) instead of recognising in the noblest element of humanity a faculty insepar- ably, and essentially associated with its own highest objects, ***) the effects of their teaching *) Brandis , Handbuch der Gr. Phil. I. pp. 543. 544. **) Aristoph. Nub. 98. ovvoi SiSaav.ova , dgyvQiov ijv tig SiStp, Xsyovta.viv.av Kcsi Siv,aiav.' aSiv.a. According to Isocrates the art of the sophists consisted in rendering ra fisv fjiSyaXa fitK^a, m Ss (itxpa jisydXa. Cresoll. Theatr. Ehet. I. c. 11. ***) That Thought and Being are, so to say, antistro- phio conceptions, that each plays over into, and reci- procally produces the tfther is a fundamental conviction of all the leading schools of Greek philosophy. — This belief, though tacitly involved in numberless other speculations of earlier and more recent date , is perhaps nowhere so distinctly announced as in the well known passage of Parmenides 93. sqq. Tiarroi' S' iatl vosCv ts Kal ovi'eksi' ^'eti vorjfia' ov yciQ avsv tovsovtos, sv coTcsipatiBfisvov tatlv, ivqi^aeig to vosiv. The original doctrine is however further amplified to the — 110 — could not fail to be most withering to the intellectual fertility, no less than to the honesty extent of regarding Thought (to vostv) as the living principle , and origin of Being, while Being on the other hand is declared to be the living product, and perfected reality of Thought (ev m Ttstpaxi(jyi,svov sariv). The one stands related to the other very much as in Aristotle the conception of the evSQysia does to that of the svtsXsxiia. (See Biese Philosophie des Aristoteles I. p. 497 Note 4.) Without going farther into the consideration of so in- teresting and all comprehensive a question we may men- tion that the simplest and most popular ground upon which this doctrine is based is no doubt to be discovered in the axiom common to all the earlier schools that like can only be deeply -discerned in its essentials by a sympathetic, and kindred like (similia similibus cognos- cuntur). The Being of the thing known was believed to be not simply reflected , but to attain its own proper perfection , and to arrive at conscious existence in the knowledge of a sentient subject. — Hence the conclusion on the part of the Pythagoreans more especially that in discovering a permanency in cognition (the absolutely ne. cessary in number and its relations) they had reached a permanent Being in Nature also (Brandis Rheinisches Museum. II. p. 215.). The Idea was regarded as the foun- tain alike of Thought and Being , constituting as it did the ovToig'Ov (Clemens Alexandrin. p. 453. Potter) on the one hand, and the ground of intelligibility on the other (Philolaus ed. Boeckh p. 49). — Intimately connected with this belief of the antients in the essential affinity of the Ov and the Nosiv is their doctrine that SvvaiJbig and — Ill — and moral vigour of the generation upon which they exercised an influence so extensive and so powerful. At the same time is hardly ne- cessary to say that we thoroughly agree with the general conclusion to which modern inves- tigations on this subject seem gradually to have arrived. The magnitude and importance of the results produced by the Sophists upon the mental developement of their own people, and that of after times were unquestionably such as it would not be easy to overestimate. The healthful and vitally quickening influences inherent in all knowledge and 'active minded- ness' seem in their case finally to have triumph- ed over the antisocial and disorganising ten- dencies which entered so largely into the theory of their system. Their invaluable services to the cause of letters as the orginators of philo- logy, criticism, and systematic erudition of every kind, are too well known to require mention in detail. Of far more importance, doubtless, than any positive results attained to in those subjects was the stimulative effect ovai'a necessarily imply each other also (Plut. de Fato p. 570. Iambi, vit. Pyth. §. 139. ovta S' ^Ssi Kal rorBjiacs (6 JIv^ayoQag) va avla , «at dtSta , Kal jj,6va Sgaati^a.) — 112 — produced by their eristic and disputatious mode of instruction in every department of enquiry. Above all the sophists have the high merit of having called into existence a higher form of educational culture, which rapidly widening beyond its first narrow aims soon embraced within the compass of its influence maiiy of those sciences which still rank amongst the most prominent subjects of professional study, We have already seen that oratory both poH- tical and forensic had received at their hands the regularity and consistency of an art practised in unison with ultimate principles of form, and subject matter. The statesman, the advocate, and the instructor by whom they were trained to the duties of their respective callings constituted in the states of antiquity the first rudimentary form of that upper middle order in society whose admitted equality with the noblest , rests, whol- ly irrespective of wealth or external advan- tages , upon the intelligence and refined liber- ality of nature arising from the peculiar type of education inseparably associated with the existence of such a body. An even more im- portant step towards the beginning of academic life was taken in the public adoption of know- ledge in some one of its varieties, no longer .— 113 — as a mere dignified pastime, but as strenuous occupation and means of livelihood, as the one engrossing object of all the hopes, purposes, and energies of existence. The Sophists thus dis- covered for learning a solid ground of support, and established the activity and aims of higher and more spiritual being in the definite posi- tion, and recognised importance of one of the leading and -permanent avocations of social life. The appearance of an entire class of individ- uals who not only derived support, but rose into fame, and princely affluence, simply by means of the knowledge they were enabled to convey, formed an epoch of the most momentous nature in the history of Greece, and of mankind. From the aptitude for a life of speculation pe- culiar to a race unparalleled for ingenuity and refinement of intellect, the calling of a teacher of learniifg soon became the favorite and most frequent pursuit of the entire people. The vast numbers who in the later ages of the empire devoted themselves to the profession of letters afforded a subject for many ' sarcasms to the satirical writers of the times. Lucian*) tells us that it would be an easier matter for one *) Bis accusatus p. 798. Hemsterhus. — 114 — who was suddenly precipitated into a ship to avoid coming in contact with timber than to es- cape meeting a philosopher in a Greek city. Plu- tarch, in his treatise de fraterno amore*), quotes a saying of Aristarchus to the effect that, whereas in former times there had been only seven sages ((joqoKjTat) in all Greece, at the time at which he wrote it would be difficult to find as many individuals who were anything else. An un- mistakeable evidence of the prominence and ex- tent to which philosophers and Sophists figuied in the eyes of the public is to be seen in the fact of their furnishing one of the most familiar characters, and standing subjects to the poets of middle and later comedy. **) §.11. The first fruits of the labours of the Sophists , in so far as the progress of education is concerned, are to be seen in the rise of dis- tinct schools of Attic oratory. Eloquence had been embraced and studied as a separate profes- sion even when the sophistical movement was still at its height. Antiphon***) and Lysias, both of whom had gone forth from the instruction *) p. 478. **) See Meineoke Hist. Com. p. 288. ***) Euhnk. opusc. De Antiphonte orat. Dietr. — 115 — of the Sophists, while regularly practising as advocates , laboured to discover the ratio of li- terary excellence, and officiated as teachers of eloquence in accordance with a systematic theory of the art. Antiphon was regarded as the inven- tor of the Attic type of forensic and political ora- tory, and in Lysias, according ot an ancient cri- tic*) that which seems most unstudied is in re- ality most artistic. We thus perceive that the higher education of the Greeks, although origin- ating very much as among the Romans, and in the middle ages also, in the personal inter- course and oral instruction of eminent individuals, is distinguished from the first by the presence of that scientific and absolute character which, in conjunction with strictly defined speciality of application, constitutes the essential peculi- arity of University instruction. §. 12. The ancient conception of academic Rise of Attic study, in which the former of these twin factors '' ' ''^°'' ^' naturally predominated, received its final con- summation from the vast and mighty reaction called forth by the Sophists against the most repulsive, and most dangerous tendencies of *) Quoted by Gregor. Nazianz. Ep. 121. Kal to ars^vot avtov XCav 8vtsx'''6v iariv. — 116 — their system. The elements of a sound and noble temper were as yet too deeply rooted iij the Hellenic, and, above all, in the Athenian tem- per, not to rest in rebellion against a scheme of doctrine which insulted the stern search after knowledge with the paltry contrivances of a jugg- ling imposture , and prostituted the most godlike faculties of our nature to objects the vilest and most sinister.*) The vision of the Absolute darkened for a time in the minds of men re- vealed itself in Plato**) with a splendour and certainty hitherto undreamt of, affording the grandest refutation in point of fact to those traffickers in lying and deceit whose refinements in dishonesty all started from the notion that Truth could not be known, or,, if known, could not possibly be communicated. Schools of §. 13. The schools of Plato and Isocrates at Plalo andlso- . _ craies. the period at which we have now arrived com- pletely discharged the functions , of a University in Athens. The most distinguished individuals of the times with scarcely an exception received their mental training in one, or other of these *) Clemens Alexandr. Str. I. p. 339. Potter. **) Compare the words of Lucian Nigrin. p. 57, Hemsterhus. avxii t\ ^ikococpia, «ai Uldnav, xai. 'Alri&sCa. — 117 — seminaries. Isocrates is described, and as- suredly with good reason by later writers , as occupying the chair of Sophistry in Athens (^d'Qovov rmv A&rjvabcov)')*) and rising preemin- ent from amidst a crowd of similar teachers. His school, like that of Plato, embraced students from the most distant Greek colonies**); and many youths of noble , and even royal blood are said to have belonged to their number.***) As a professor of political science and rhetoric, the instruction of Isocrates was attended not only by those who , like Timotheus , Lycurgus, Demosthenes, Hyperides , Aeschines &c. f), de- sired to prepare themselves for a career of practical efficiency, and distinction in the state, but by the historians Theopompus and Ephorus, and the tragedians Asclepiades and Theo- *) Himerius orat. 32. §. 1 et 2. CresoU Theatr. Ehetr. I. 2. **) Cic. Brut! §. 8. ***) e. g. Nicocles the son of Euagoras king of Cyprus, t) Dionys. Hal. srspi 'laotiQ. §§. 2 et 5. Plut. X. orat. vit. p. 836. Phot. Biblioth. cod. 260. Cic. de orat. II. 22. Ecce tibi exortus est Isocrates, magister istorum omnium, cujus e ludo, tanquam ex equo Trojano, meri principes extiteruut. See also Euhnken Hist. crit. orat. where the same circumstance is recorded of other worthies of this j)eriod. — 118 — dectes. If the example of Clearchus, the sub- sequent tyrant of Heraclea*), may be regarded as establishing the rule, the term of study oc- cupied four years, and the fee for the entire course amounted to a thousand drachmae.**) Many of the above mentioned personages are mentioned as having attended the teaching of Plato likewise. Demosthenes more especially is related upon good authority to have been an earnest and attentive listener to the discourses of the loftiest of thinkers.***) In the case of the students of oratory such a course was no doubt adopted with the view of giving greater ampli- tude and depth of thought to the political instruc- tion of Isocrates, and also from a desire to per- fect themselves in acumen pf reasoning and argumentative power. §. 14. The beginnings of even the external organisation of the University date from the same period in the history of Athenian culture. In their intimacy of relation to each other, and the distinct , yet kindred manner in which they *) Memnon tcsqI 'HQUKlsiag Muller Fr. Historicor. IL p. 876. **) Photius Bibl. p. 793. Hosch. ***) Cic. Brutus. C. 31. Dial, de orat. §. 32. Plut. X. orat. vit. p. 844. — 119 — respectively laboured to accomplish the great ends of educational discipline the schools of Isocrates and Plato distinctly represent an ear- lier form of the Faculties of modern academic instruction. So marked and characteristically important was the position they maintained that, with the vitality inherent in every arrangement resting upon something beyond mere individual efficiency, they not only survived their original founders, but, by means of a series of regularly appointed successors {diadoxoi), gradually ripen- ed into permanently established, and, so to say, national institutions.*) §. 15. The appearance of a philosophy un- ^rfsioiie. equalled, then, or since, for sublimity of con- templation, moral vitality, and rigorous acu- teness of dialectic produced the usual lifegiving effects of such a phenomenon upon knowledge and education in all its forms. The learned and philological subjects discussed by Hippias and Prodicus grew under the hands of Aristotle into a precision and substantiality which, when com- pared with the capricious and popular character they had hitherto maintained, presented a contrast even more decided than that existing between *) Dion. Halicarn. de struct, orat. §. 79. — 120 — the ontology of Plato, and the shifting no- tionalism of the Sophists. In Aristotle, more especially, the science and educational culture of the ancient world reached its highest con- summation. Knowledge and instruction puriiied and exalted above all anxiety respecting appea- rances commenced in thoughtful observation, and yearned upwards through steadfast toil and en- ergy of intellectual effort towards the ideal trans- formation*) (to aTto&avKTL^Eiv) , of humanity. Discovery and advance, we are everywhere gi- ven to understand, is the result, neither of a priori nor a posteriori investigation exclusively, but of a combination of both, or rather of a prophetic foreboding and preoccupancy of ul- timate principles brought into living union with the most thorough mastery of individual par- ticulars. **) §.16. The admirably just and accurate concep- tion of the norm of scientific progress brought to light by Aristotle could not fail to give a pro- digious impulse to that freer education in which, as we have seen, knowledge is imparted dynami- cally, and in the very act and process of its *) Eth. Nicom. X, 7. **) Brandis Aristoteles. p. 45. — 121 _ own productivity. The general outlines marked out in the instruction of the Sophists became only the starting point for a mode of study equally direct and practical, while rising im- measurably in dignity, power, and amplitude, in consequence its more' intimate conjunction with the elements of higher speculation, and phi- losophic certainty. No slight approximation to the essentials of the principle of conveying the widest and most elevated wisdom in and through a liberal training for the forms of definite action is observable in those learned institutions which everywhere started into existence in the most popvdous and flourishing cities of the vast em- pire embraced by the language and civilization of Greece under the successors of Alexander. §.17. The Museum,*) or academic corporation Maseum of Alexandria, and schools *) For an account of the Museum see Strabo XVII, 9. of Athens. Fr. Gronov. De Museo Alexandriuo Thesaur. Antiq. Gr. VIII, 2741—60. and L. Neocor. d. M. A. ib. 2767—78. The building was situated in the quarter of Alexandria called the Brychion, and formed together with the library a part of the Royal Palace. That these appointments possessed something of the snug and luxurious character attaching to collegiate appointments in England may be concluded from the words of Timon , the sceptic and sil- lograph (Athenaeus I, 41.), where he describes the mem- bers of this society as ' fed in the fattening cage of the — 122 — of Alexandria, which with its Rector (iSQSvg) *), its dining hall {6v00itiov), cloisters (e'lf^pa), and grounds (jjteQiaatog), presents so singular acoun- Muses.' {BoBKOvxai, Movascov iv xaXaQco.) The Museum was thoroughly regarded in the light of an important institution of the state, and after the subjugation of Egypt by the Romans continued to be maintained by the Emperors. Poets also , as well as scholars and men of science, were attached to the KVKlog , or society of the Mu- seum , though probably more as a species of literary pensioners than as constituting a part of the regular staff of the institution. — In Boeckh (Corpus Inscr. Gr. Pars XXIX. Sect. III. 47. 48.) an '0(i,rjQiv,6g irotTjiiys h Movasiov is mentioned. Under the later Emperors per- sons who did not reside in Alexandria were also appointed members. Grafenhahn G. d. CI. Litt. III. p. 51. Zumpt uber den Bestand der philosoph. Schulen in Athen. p. 20, Anm. 4. — Certain learned festivals were regularly celebrated in the Museum, and bore apparently some analogy to the Commemorations of the English Uniyersities. It was on some annually recurring occasion of this kind that the writings of the Emperor Claudius were publicly read. Suet. vit. Claud, c. 42. Celebrations of this nature seem, indeed, not to have been unusual in the academic life of the ancients. Even the sniSsi^sLg of the Sophists were succeeded by a half holiday. See Liban. nqog rag Tov naiSaycoyov piaatprjfiiag p. 281. *) So called from the fact that this official was at the same time the priest, either of Apollo and the Muses, — 123 — • terpart to the external forms of English collegiate life, was entirely organised in accordance with a system of professorial Faculties. The teachers of this institution, and of course the students also, were distributed amongst the several departments of Philosophy Medicine and Philology, a classi- fication almost literally corresponding with the traditional arrangements of modem Universities, That this form and principle of higher educa- tion was at all peculiar to the University of the Ptolemies, except in so far as it exhibited the most complete, and richly furnished institution of the kind with which the world was then ac- quainted, is the more improbable from the fact that in all other respects, and especially in the social and collegiate arrangements just re- ferred to, the Museum of Alexandria was, we find, a perfect copy of the principal schools in or of the contiguous •mple of Serapis. It affords some confirmation to the latter view of the suhject that the vsmKOQOs of the temple of Serapis is expressly mentioned in inscriptions as a member of this association (rdv bv Movaeiat aix&b^ivcov azsXav Boeckh Corpus Inscr. XXIX. §. 3. No. 4724.). The Eector of the Museum was pro- bably invested with this sacerdotal office very much in the same way as deaneries, and other ecclesiastical dig- nities are at present attached to college appointments in England; and possibly also for the pui-pose of sur- — 124 — Athens. We have it on the clearest evidence that the Peripatetics and philosophers of the Academy had gradually assumed the consistency of distinctly organised and corporate bodies. The will of Theophrastes preserved in Diogenes Laertius*) bequeathes to the sect over which he presided the buildings in which he taught {(iov0Eiov), (also called diaxQi^ri), with adjacent grounds (tov xiJTtov xkI rov TCEQiTtatov), The former is described as furnished with a library, maps &c. and adorned, like the chapel (CeQov) of the society, with a statue of the founderof the sect, and those of certain tutelary divinities.**) The individuals attached to each schools in the capacity of teachers and disciples were in the rounding him with a, certain nimbus of sanctity in the eyes of the Orientals. *) V. 51. sqq. **) Those doubtless of Apolldi| the Muses and the Graces , which by a custom derived apparently , like many other peculiarities of the academic life of the ancients , from the Pythagoreans, formed a regular part of the furniture of the lecture rooms of philosophers and Sophists. The circumstance that the number of tutelary divinities was thus not unfrequently larger than that of the audience is often alluded to in the bou mots and epigrams of antiquity. See Jacobs Anthol. III. p. 279. 602. — 125 — practice of dining together*) 'on certain regular and stated occasions, a part of the arrangements of the sect which Aristotle considered of so much importance as himself to draw up a code of "laws *) The avvodoi, avfinoaia and avaai'tia of the phi- losophers like those politically established in certain states of Greece arose out of the conception of the most perfect and entire intimacy of friendship amongst the individuals of whom they were composed. In the words of Plutarch, such an association was regarded as a Siccycoy^ sCs i the yQttfiiiatixri fiixQ«), whose condition md social status seems to have heen even more jheerless and unfortunate than that of our own elementary and parish schoolmasters. Persons )f this class taught in the market place and mder awnings (pergulae).**) The story, of Virginia shows that girls also attended schools It an early period of antiquity. ***) They were most probably of the same rudimentary des- cription, though we learn from Martial t) that a later aera grown up maidens were instructed in the higher branches of elegant literature. The vocation of the yQanfiKtMol consisted in giving finish and completion to that propaedeutic course of study which the Greeks denoted as the iy- *) Zonaras. rqafijiaTLafijg • 6 xa nQwta aroixsta Si- Sdanav. Compare Snid. s. v. and Eittershus. ad P orphyr. p. 7a. **) Grafenhahn Gesch. der class. Phil. IV. p. 26. ***) Perizon. ad Aeliau. III. 21. t) Epigr. VIII. 3. XI. 4. xvxha (i,a9")]^ara, and which in the later ages of the Roman empire was known under the name of the Trivium and Quadrivium. Pas, sages in. proof of this assertion are perpetually met with in all ancient writers who touch upon the subject of education. We will at present mierely refer to Photius Biblioth., p. 563 extr. Hoesch., where Pamprepius, the grammarian, is described as teaching the nQoaaidsCa, in so far as grammar and poetry were concerned. In the same manner Clemens Alexandrinus desr cribes the iyxvxkiu as simply preparatory in their nature.*) §. 22. Before possing from this portiou of the subject it may not be without interest to remark that Quinctilian, one of the ablest and most sagacious writers who has ever treated of education, strenuously and pointedly insists that the study of Greek should precede that of Latin. **) Even during the more cultivated *) See also Suid. s. ilafutgejitog and 'Sl^iysvrig. **) Institut. orat. I, 1, 12. A sermone Graeco puerum incipere malo, quia Latinus, qui pluribus in usu est, vel nobis nolentibus se praebest, simul quia disciplinis quoque Graecis prius instituendus est, unde et nostrae fluxerunt. Quoted by Grafenhahn Geach. der class. Phi- lol. IV. p. 29. periods of the republic ■ — at least in that aera which Cicero describes as the golden age of Latin eloquence — all higher and more liberal minded instruction in the one language was held to be concomitant, and, in a manner synony.- mous with a similar acquaintance with the other. . The most profound and enlightened apprecia- tion of the peculiar excellencies of ihe national literature was thought to be alone attainable when the study of Roman authors was blended in a perfectly balanced and indissoluble union with a knowledge of the most admirable pro- ductions of those of Greece. *) §. 23. With the more clearly defined and strictT ly systematic arrangement which the different portions of the educational cursus began to assume shortly after the age of Aristotle we find that the subjects of highest mental train- ing, when considered soniewhatin the abstract, and with reference to their general character and tendency, are all embraced under the com- mon name of philosophy. That this department of knowledge was not unreasonably , regarded as preeminently in accordance with the aims and spirit of University study will be suf- *) Mommseu's BQmische Geschichte Band II. p. 400. 10 — 146 -s ficiently evident from what has been previously pointed out as the essential attributes of the latter. We are not however to imagine (though the vague and declamatory language of the writers on these subjects would undoubtedly favour such a conclusion) that mere metaphysics ' — itself a separate and particular branch of , inquiry — was intended to monopolize the un- divided attention of those who frequented the highest schools of intellect. Such an inference is at variance with the fact that totally different subjects, such as grammar, rhetoric, and med- icine were actually taught in the schools of the time; and, though nothing can be more natural or likely than that those who mainly devoted themselves to one of these subjects may have at- tended instruction in another also, we know from the testimony of Aulus Gellius the jealous vigi- lance with which the distinct limits of the several faculties were guarded. *) Philosophy therefore, in passages such as these above alluded to, can only be intended .to denote that absolute and elevated form which every branch of knowledge assumes when studied in a com- prehensive spirit, and carried to the ideal per- ^) Noct. Att. X.19. jction of its own proper nature. As bearing loreover immediately upon questions deeply ssociated with all that is most momentous to le individual and the state, the science of lind not unnaturally became the 'solar' study ) all those who attended the teaching of the ncient Universities not with a view to qualify lemselves for any particular learned profes- Lon, but simply in order to obtain that clearness f intellect, and confirmed mastery of the noblest rinciples of thought and action which would nable them to enter upon the grander use- ilness of public life with at least the condi- ons of forethought and design. *) This class ; must be further borne in mind was precisely le one which comprised those individuals from 'hose biographies our acquaintance with the etails of ancient Universities is mainly derived. *) Dial, de orator. §. 30. The author of the same work ills us in another passage (§. 32.) that the eloquence f Cicero was due far more to the speculations of the cademythan to the instruction of professional rhetorians. lutarch (vit. Cic. p. 475.) informs us that such was icero's own opinion {■A.ahoi noXXaing ri^Cov fir] ^tjtoqa xXeiv aixov aXXa tpiloGoipov • cpvloaocpiav yccQ cog SQyov jjjff'O'at, QTjTOQLK^ S' oqyavcp jjg^ff'S'at iioXi,%Bvoii,svog tl tag xqslag.) Compare also Cic. Brutus c. 97. 10* — 148 — §. 24. We must also bear in mind that from the mental idiosyncrasy, and many peculiarities in the social condition of the nations of clas- sical antiquity the study of philosophy was far from possessing with them that vague, and purely abstract character now generally as- sociated with the name. The frugal habits and simple wants which to this day continue a lead- ing feature in the common life of the nations of the south of Europe were united in the case of the Greeks with a passiongite desire for know- ledge, and d, mobility of intellect which enabled them during many ages of their history to ex- hibit beyond all other nations the dignity of that free and noble ™'- Emperor, though they appear generally to have been bestowed in accordance with the recommen- dation of the University and the town. In a de- cree of Julian cited by Bernhardy**) the electoral bodies are specified as consisting of the Ordo, or philosophic sect, the Curiales, or municipal senate, and the Optimi, or timocratic ecclesia established according to Roman usage in the provinces , ***) with an ultimate reference to the Emperor. In the case of the philosophic pro- fessorships .the initiative, and most decisive stage of the process was doubtless that en- trusted to the first of these associations. Pho- tiusf) accordingly speaks of Isidore as at once appointed to the Platonic chair by the iptjcpiGfiu See also a similar passage in the Antaeus of Antiphanes (Meineeke Fr. Com. III. p. 17.) *) Wyttenbach ad Eunap. p. 28. **) Grundri^s der Geschichte der 6r. Litt. p. 415. The same mode of election existed at Rome also. See CresoU. Theatr. Ehet. IV. I. ***) Hermann Gr. Alterthumer. t) Biblioth. Cod. 242. 11 — 162 — rrjs diuSoxfjg. Nor does the influence of the University in the bestowal of rhetorical pro- fessorships appear to have been greatly in- ferior. Gregory of Nazianzus when desirous of departing from Athens was detained almost by main force on the part of his admirers (an^l^ xarstxov). Masters and scholars are described as directly offering him the gift of a professional chair (cos ^i? Xoycav dcoSovtsg h T^jj'^ot; xQarog). Amount of §. 33. In cvery such election, whether of Sophists or philosophers, a formal examination {do-Mu,aaCa) was held before the most important and influential inhabitants , on which occasion the different candidates gave a public specimen of their ability, and at the same time underwent a scrutiny into their moral character.*) The amount of income enjoyed by each of the above mentioned principal professors is stated by Lu- cian at ten thousand drachmae, or about i 400 a year. Philostratus **) however speaks of the sophist Apollonius as receiving a talent annually while occupying the chair of political oratory.***) salaries. *) Philostr. II. pp. 566. 567. — Morell. Luc. Eun. p. 352. Herasterhus. 'Wjttenbach ad Eunap. p. 79. **) Vit. Sophist. II. p. 597. Morell. ***) Zumpt supposes that the Tiolixiv.og ^qovoq is to — 163 — Tatian on the other hand speaks of the payment of the leading appointments as amounting to twelve thousand drachmae per annum, a state- ment considered by commentators as in all probability more strictly correct than the sum mentioned in round numbers by Lucian. *) §. 34. The solid nucleus formed by the tenAssisiantpro- endowed professorships seems gradually to have '^^^"^ ' collected around it a multitude of philosophers and academic teachers of every description. At a later period Himerius**) speaks of parents who had accompanied their sons to Athens as perfect- ly bewildered by the number of sophists in that city. Many of these were no doubt attached to the University in the capacity of assistants to the occupants of the principal chairs, a class of teachers who are found in existence at the be understood of a ehaii' tlie appointment to wticli vested witli the town, as opposed to the ^aailiKog Q'qovos, which was in the gift of the Crown. (See iiber den Be- stand der philosoph. Schulen in Athen. p. 25. Anm. 3.) The arguments adduced in favour of this opinion do not, however , appear very convincing. *) See Lucian Eunuch, p. 352. Hemster. CresoU. Theatr. Ehet. II. 3. **) Orat. XXXIII. §. 2. 11* — 164 — ' earliest period of academic history,*) while the majority, it may be conjectured, held a po- sition not unlike that of the professores extra- ordinarii and privatim docentes of continental Universities at the present day. In the case of the Sophists a broad line of distinction is. throughout observable between the junior in- structors and those holding the salaried ap- pointments of the University. The latter glo- ried in the high sounding titles of dvvarmTEQoi,, koycav TVQccvvoi, fiSL^ovg, (leyakofiiGd'Oi, , drj^io- TfAfts,**) eminentissimi &c. , the latter ***) on the other hand are designated as ot lAar- rovg, svtskatg, minores. Meaning at- §■ 35. The term Sophist always employed some- lached to the ^jjg^^ ya^„^gj„ and at time s bestowed upon those term Sophist . . ■'^ ■ at this period, philosophers who aimed at combining literary elegance of expression with scientific accuracy of thought, t) is henceforward used with refe- rence to a class of teachers exhibiting many *) Zumpt fiber den Bestand der philosoph. Schulen in Atheu p. 6. Bernhardy Gr. der 6r. Litt. I. p. 415. **) See Luoian Ehet. Praecept. quoted iuCresoU. IV. II. BaaiXsvg iv zotg Xoyoig , tec zi&QinTia iXavvcov Toi; idyov. ***) Cresoll. Tbeatr. Ehet. IV. II. ■j-) Schol. Aristoph. Nub. 330. eoiaral in Sui- das) but that even at an earlier period those learned Soyers of antiquity whose artistic enthusiasm is such a favourite subject with the poets of later comedy are known in Athenaeus as coquaral jucySLqiKoi. (Athen. III. c. 60. Compare also Clemens Alexandr. Strom. I. p. 329. Potter.) _ 166 — rank. External honours of every kind, statues, the citizenship, imperial edicts, honorary pse- phismata, were lavishly bestowed upon dis- tinguished Sophists. Their calling was regarded as the steppingstone to the highest dignities of state , and conferred by a codex of Theodosius the social position of Vicarius, a grade equi- valent to the rank of Duke or Count.*) In accordance with this estimate of the dignity of their office we find that the instructors of higher schools regularly appeared amongst the nobility and magistrates who went forth to wel- come a viceroy on his arrival at the seat of provincial government. **) Every circumstance in short goes to prove that this expression was employed at that period with precisely the same eminently honourable meaning which at- taches to the name of professor at the present day. In the fourth century we read of the public appointment at Athens of four sophists***) (probably only the most eminent of the entire body) in a manner precisely similar to that of the philosophers previously mentioned. *) Cresoll. Theatr. Ehet. I. 8. **) Reisk. ad Libanii Orat. n^og 'Ava^Cvtiov p. 190. ***) Liban. Tcqog xoitg ^agiiv avzov %aXovvtas p. 176. — 167 — §. 36. The minor arrangements of the school of Athens at this stage of its history no doubt cor- responded in most respects -with those of the lear- ned institutions of Antioch concerning which such frequent and detailed accounts are furni- shed in the orations and epistles of Libanius. In the latter city, which is described as being at that period the academic counterpart of Athens in the east, the professors of rhetoric not only re- ceived an annual salary (avvza^ig) from the magistrates of the town,*) but were also paid by fees from the class , and Libanius in pleading for an increase of allowance to his colleagues points to the fact that Zenobius, a teacher of eminence, had received an augmentation of his salary from the proceeds of the public flo- main.**) The sum paid for admission to each class appears to have varied greatly, and poorer students seem frequently to have been permitted to attend free of expence. ***) Phi- lostratus, a writer of the third century, informs us that inxthe school of Proclus the payment of one hundred drachmae entitled the student *) Liban. 'Avxioxtitog. p. 333. **) Liban. vtisq xa>v QTjTOQav. pp. 211. 212. 213. ***) Philostr. vit. Soph. II. p. 602. — 168 — to attendance upon the course as long as he thought proper, besides giving access to the use of the library.*) The fee for admission was paid on the first of every month, and could be recovered at law ; the salary on the other hand was received annually. In this manner many of the Sophists are said to have amassed considerable fortunes. The lectures of Chrestus were attended by one hundred efifiie&oi kxqou- tai, **) and Heraclides purchased an estate of ten talents from the accumulated earnings of tui- tion in rhetoric. The desire to secure for them- selves the glory and the profit resulting from a numerously attended class naturally gave rise to the most furious competition on the part of this class of instructors, a fact significantly at- tested in the terms Xtt%"ri0%'aL and avti,xtt9"^0&ai, employed with reference to Sophists professing the same subject.***) Every contrivance offeree and fraud was unsparingly employed on these occasions, and the whole machinery of a con- tested election in England of the olden time was actively set in play to secure for themselves *) Vit. Soph. II. p. 600. Morell. **) Philostr. vit. Soph. II. p. 588. Morell. ***) See also Liban. jrfpi r^g savrov rvjcris i-oyog, p. 137. — 169 — the attendance of the new comers to the Uni- versity. *) Students were induced to pledge themselves before matriculation, and agencies formally established for that purpose in foreign countries. The fiercest part of the struggle commenced upon their arrival in Attica. No expense seems to have been- spared by the prin- cipals in the contest. A fictitious appearance of popularity was sought to be obtained by paying students to attend and applaud at lecture?**) (cJvjj tmv VEcov). Bands of academic partizans scoured the country in every direction, for the purpose of intercepting all who entered Athens by land;***) and all the mischievous activity of the commissionaires and hotel touters of the continent at the present day was indefa- *) Business of this description seems to have been transacted by a species of committee (xOQog} composed of partizans of the respective Sophists under the gui- dance of a senior {itQOazaTTjg, ajtpojfitTTjg). Photius Bibl. cod. 80. CresoU. Theatr. Rhet. IV. 10. extr. Bernhardy Gr. der Gr. Litt. I. p. 450. • **) Liban. tccqI ttjs iavrov tvxrig >.6yog. p. 45. ***) bqSv aKQce, nsSi.a, icxazi'ai, ovSiv otl fiij rrjg 'Attl- v.rig fiiqog, r, trjg lomrjg 'ElXdSog, ctircov rav oCv-rftoqaiv 01 nlsicxoi, Kal yaQ xovzovg (tsfiSQiafisvovg TuCg anovSaig iyovaiv. Gregor. Nazianz. — 170 — tigably set in operation , in order to mislead and bewilder the inexperienced student on his first landing at the Piraeus. Libanius in describ- ing his own adventures mentions that he was locked up'by adherents of the opposition, and not released from captivity until he had bound himself by oath to attend the lectures of the professor whose cause they had espoused.*) The feuds between the rival candidates for po- pular favour and support were zealously, entered into by their respective disciples — a result the more readily brought about from the fact that each of the leading Sophists officiated as proctor of one of the four Nations,**) into which the University was divided — and the writers of the day gave a most animated picture of the academic combats which raged between the admirers of the contending rhetoricians. ***) *) '^ijs BTiiovBrjq T£ ijr saniQug , Kai iv xiQo'i'V ovx lov ^(iovX6fi7]V • fnma rrjs vaxsqa^ag iv hiQcov av %s^Biv, av ovSs rovtcov i^ovlofi-qv. Liban. ■nsql T^g savtov %v%7ii Xoyog. p. 13. Compare also another passage in the same speech: s^omjisv Ss Scearrjitozsg, o cogptorijs f'S'' ^lioii, iv,sCvov Si iyo) arSQOfisvog , zoig t^ovai Si Xoyog ovSslg rrjg ^o^g. **) For an account of the Nations at Athens see §.57. ***) Liban. nrspl iijg savrov rvxrig Xoyog p. 16. rovgtav XOQ those who attended the school of Antioch as looking forward to becoming occupants of municipal offices (jSor- Aat), appointments in the imperial service {8ioi- X1J0EIS jtolscDv) , chairs in some of the various *) Liban. tcqoq rovg roi' naiSaycoyov ^XaaiprniCug. p. 273. **) Liban. n^og TOvg ^a^i'v avxov KaP.oiJj'ras p. 179. , — 173 — Universities (■9'povot), and to the practice of juris- prudence, Roman or provincial (•9'£|U.iS , dLxai).*) The general principle of all higher study is no where more clearly announced than in the words of Gregor of Nazianzus,**) who describes it as a prosecution of all subjects as one, and of each as equivalent to all (ta ndvxtt mg ev a^u0x'}q6ttg, xccl avxl navtmv £xa0tov.) §. 39. By a practice dating from the times of Two "blisses A • 1 \ 1 1 1 1 ' 1 °^ Students. Aristotle,***) and borrowed apparently in the first instance from the Pythagoreans , f) the undergraduate population of the Uni^versity, in addition to the distinctions arising out of national origin, and subjects of study, was di- vided into two classes, one of which was en- titled to the full rights of studentship, while the other was regarded as merely preparing for entrance into the academic body. The latter, who are designated as belonging to the ftov- eftov,tt) were taught in the earlier part of the day, and subjected to all the coercive dis- *) nsgl rf,g iavzov rvxrjg. p. 102. **) Orat. X. ***) Aul. Gell. Noct. Att. XX. 5. t) Aul. GeU. Noct. Att. I. 9. ft) Liban. Ep. 407. 1019. — 174 — cipline of an inferior school,*) though the vicious indulgences and outrageous feats of physical force **) ascribed to them hy Libanius prove that they must have attained to the age of the ^nskXifpri^oi, at least. Both classes of students are mentioned as being present at the public orations {jiskarai,, aTCiSsi^aig) of the So- phists.***) Lectures seem to have been delivered in a public building, either wholly set apart, or simply granted for the temporary use of the University, t) Instruction was also given at the residence of the professors (t« idiaum &iaxQa).'\^) This however was probably only the case with those who wished to add the advantages of private tuition to the ordinary teaching of the University. At Antioch Liba- nius gave instruction in the senate house, in the temple of Calliope, or in that of Apollo which was situated in the suburbs of the city, fft) *) Liban. nsql zov ranrjTog. pp.' 255 256. **) Such as blanketing pedagogues, a performance magniloqueutly described by Libanius in his oration niql rov xdmriTOi. ***) Philostr. vit. soph. II. p. 600. f) Liban. vitsq twv qrjxOQCav. p. 216. tt) Eunap. p. 96. ttt) Liban. rospi rijg mvzov tvxrig. p. 71. argog Evard- &1.0V. p. 165. — 175 — At Athens in the siege of the city by Sylla during the Mithridatic war (A. C. n. 80.) the Academy and Lyceum were laid waste in com- mon with the other suburbs ; and, though doubt- less restored afterwards as far as possible to their original condition , were never again regu- larly employed for purposes of instruction; in consequence, as Zumpt*) supposes, of the ad- vance of malaria occasioned by the declining population. Henceforward philosophers deliver- ed lectures in the town. The Odeum was used for purely epideictic purposes. §. 40. Of the mutual coordination between chancciioi- the various parts of which the school of uq?,°j,5jJ " Athens was composed little is known with certainty. The Praeses of Achaia**) is des- cribed by Eunapius and Libanius as in a man- ner discharging the functions of the Chancel- lor of the University, though mainly, it would appear , with a view to the maintenance of pub- lic order , which had been disturbed beyond endurance by the factions into which the aca- *) Zumpt fiber den Bestand der phil. Schulen in Athen. pp. 12. 15. **) Eunap. vit. Julian, p. 97. Liban. nsQl rrjs savzov ZVX1S Hoyog. p. 19. Bernhardy Gr. der Gr. Litt. I. p. 450. — 176 — demic world was divided. The Proconsul Car- bonius is extolled by Himerius for having res- tored the discipline of the University , and sup- pressed the tumults for which it had at one time been so notorious. The individual appointed by the emperors to the Proconsulate was him- self in many cases a cidevant Sophist (uTto rav Gog)i6rav) , and therefore abundantly quali- fied by personal acquaintance with its circum- stances and conditions to superintend the go- vernment of the University.*) At Antioch Libanius speaks of himself as presiding over four professors of rhetoric without specifying his relation to those who gave instruction on other subjects.**) §. 41. Hopelessly as the graceful and elegant thought of antiquity had fled from amongst the generation of which we are now speaking it was but natural that many instances of yoiith- ful attachment and friendship in its purest and most beautiful form should arise even in such an aspect of the University as then existed. Grregory of Nazianzus finely describes his own relation to St. Basil as based upon an utter *) Orat. IV. §. 9. **) VTtiq rav QrjtOQaiv Koyog. — 177 — absence of all mean emulation, and a devotion on both sides to what was morally enobling and associated with honourable hopes and pur- poses for the future*). §. 42. The munificent liberality of the Ro- Beneficial ef- r\ 1 . 1 1 1 • 1 , , feels oflhese man Uaesars which had given such ' extent instimuons and completeness to the academic system "P"" "'= ''"=- ralure of ihe of the ancient world was not without many ag-e. happy effects upon literature and learning in the declining ages of the Empire. Athens, which about the birth of Christ' had grievous- ly fallen into decay, from the withdrawal of the wealthiest and noblest class of students to the schools of Marseilles, Milan, Apollonia, and other thriving provincial towns **) be- came the chief University town of the world for all who were desirous of obtaining the most exact and thorough training in the study of *) k'qyov d' rjv afupovSQOig ov% oaziq avzog to irgra- TSiov S%oi,, alX o-TCtog rm srSQCo tovxov TcaqaxcoQi^asiBV — s'gyov d diicporsQOig rj dqszij v.cil to ^rjv TiQog tag fisi.- Xovaag kl-wiSag. Orat. XX. p. 330. **) sv if T6) Tia^ovxi xal zovg yvcoqi\>,caxaTOvg xav Pco- fHixLcov TtSTCSMSv (17 MaBBccXCu) dvxX xTJg slg 'A&rjpag e.Tto- S7]fiiccg iKuas ipoixdv tpLXofi,a.&eig hvxag. Strabo IV. p. 248. See also Zumpt iiber die philosoph. Sch. zii Athen. p. 19. Bernhardy Gr. der Eoem. Litt. p. 58. 12 — 178 — eloquence, political science and philosophy.*) In the fourth century, though labouring under the disadvantage of notoriously heathen predi- lections, it continued to assert a species of priority over the contemporary schools of Con- stantinople Antioch and Berytus,**) and the superior dignity of its professors is admitted even by those of rival Universities. ***) Athens became again the focus of learned activity in an age , which , marred , as it was , by increas- ing tendency to pedantry and affectation, still succeeded in reviving some reminiscences of the nobler past, and exhibited what has not inappropriately been described as the after sum- mer of Greek genius, f) Evils and de- §• 42. It is not to bc denied that not only fectsof ihe j^^ ^j^^ Ordinary class of publicly endowed academic *^ i. */ education ofschools which during the reign of Marcus Au- peno -j-gij^g j^jj^ j.]jg succeeding Emperors multiplied *) Grafenhahn Gesch. der class. Phil. IV. p. 29. **) Bernhardy Gr. dcr Gr. Litt. I. p. 442. ***) Liban. Ep. 1440. 1511. f ) Bernhardy Gr. der Gr. Litt. I. p. 406 sqq. Lucian, Longinus, and the philosophers Hermogenes, Sextus Em- piricus, Plotimis, Aruobius and Lactantius may be men- tioned as specimens of the writers and thinkers of this period. — 179 — to such an extent throughout the provinces of the Roman Enapire, but even in those institu- tions which assumed academic rank and con- sequence , the instruction imparted had in a great measure lost that direction of the depth and fulness of philosophic principle into the forms and channels furnished by the avoca- tions of after life which we have pointed out as the essential feature in the University study of the best ages of antiquity. Even at an earlier period the author of the Dialogus de Oratoribus laments over the change that had taken place in this respect, and does not hes- itate to prefer the somewhat meagre and nar- row utilitarianism of Eoman education in the ruder stages of their national developement to the unsubstantial generalities which in his day were communicated under the name of higher intellectual culture. This however was no solitary or accidental occurrence, but a phae- nomenon radically in harmony with the men- tal condition of that entire epoch. We have already alluded to the fact that the ancient world in general only conceived of the Abso- lute as beheld in its most general and prima facie aspect. Few besides Aristotle seem to have been enabled to discern that the fruitful 12* — 180 — and advancing knowledge of the highest Entity must ever take place, by means of, or at least in conjunction with study of its self utterances and exponents in the individual *) and concrete. The contemplation of truest Being after having shown itself with astonishing brilliancy and power had been so speedily withdrawn that the world had only become assured of the reality of the latter without having time, as it were, to discern and distinguish the specialities of its es- sence. The utter degeneracy which had taken possession of all philosophic enquiry during the declining ages of the empire could not but exer- cise a peculiarly baneful influence upon that no- bler form of educational discipline which in an- cient times more especially had its keystone and *) That man can discern the living truth only by what it affirms of itself, and not by his own intellectual scru- tiny is a principle common to all the highest forms of religious belief. "With the Greeks Zens was only known to mortals through his self manifestation in Apollo (see Hesiod. Melampod. Fr. IX. in Diinzers Fragmente der epischeu Poesie der Gr. p. 55.) and in the writings of the apostle whose mind and character are described as peculiarly congenial with the spirit of the founder of Christianity we are told that "no man hath seen God at any time. The only begotten, who is in- the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him." — 181 — centre in that science. The spirit of philosophy had so completely evaporated leaving behind a mere caput mortuum of phraseology, negations, and truisms that the whole serious labour of aca- demic instruction eventually concentrated itself upon rhetorical exercises, whose aim was di- rected towards giving a certain manual dexter- ity in dealing with the conventional expressions for a life and efficiency which had long since utterly departed.*) The inherent falsity of a plan of education founded upon a system of contemptible pedantry, which, bad as it was, was probably the only method by which the commonest rules and technical routine of ancient . civilization could then be preserved, might well cause a Roman like the author of the dialogue referred to to sigh after any manifestation of nature however coarse and illiberal.**) §. 44. Much indeed as was accomplished dur- Effects of ing the better and nobler ages of the nations of „p„",hraca- classical antiquity in awakening just and fitting''™'" .^'"''y conceptions of the general character and aims of that life of science and thought which it is the purpose of the University to organize and *) Dial, de Orat. §. 32. **J Dial, de Orat. §. 35. — 182 — perpetuate, the actual existence of academic in- stitutions in the distinct and specific form they historically assume is emphatically due to the political ascendancy finally achieved by Chris- tianity. Full of interest and lasting instruc- tion as are the records of the learned life of antiquity the intellectual .culture of that period depended for its existence far more upon the impulse communicated by individuals, and had not within itself those seeds of endless progress and unfading youth which a heavendescended doctrine has implanted in the civilization of mo- dern Europe. The profoundly ethical spirit of the new creed — the deeper and more vital grounds upon which it based all the special duties of life caused the truths of Christianity to become inseparably intwined with the roots of politi- cal and social organization. Again, in virtue of its character as a system of religious Ideas va- riously revealed in history, in sacred text books, and in the lives and writings of a long succession of semi-inspired men, speculation and learning became the twin pillars of the faith so essen- tially bound up with all social order. The acknow- ledgement of Christianity as the religion of the state in creating a demand for knowledge ab- solute and historical far more vast and constant than had arisen from the spontaneous striving after enlightenment of a noble and intellectual- ly gifted people established the existence of the institutions intended to meet those higher wants upon a basis infinitely broader and more enduring than they had ever previously occupied. From being the luxury and charm of existence, the 'liberalis oblectatio' of an elegant social circle, scientific study assumed more and more the character of an imperative national necessity. A permanent organization was at once required in order to maintain and advance the higher intellectual culture necessary to the compre- hension of a form of doctrine with which the best interests of the state and the individual were immediately involved ; and we find accord- ingly that even in the failing energies of the empire a degree of earnest attention was de- voted by the state to the endowment and man- agement of the schools of learning almost ex- ceeding what we have noticed as recorded of more prosperous times. Imperial edicts are still extant regulating the minutest details of the internal economy of the school of the Ca- pitol,*) and symptoms of something even like *) L. I. Cod. Theod. de stud. lib. tJrbis Eomae et — I>S4 — • progress, at least in the comprehension of the subject, are to be seen in a more decided dis- position to give weight and emphasis to the prin- ciple of professional study. In short the Uni- versity, whose origin, as we have already seen, was simultaneous with that of the pro- fessional class, was amplified and confirmed in its existence by the rise of the Christian priesthood, and the more scientific character assumed by legal, study in the later ages of the Roman empire. §. 45. Students before leaving the provinces for Rome were obliged to obtain a written per- mission from a magistrate in which their names, ages, birthplaces &c. were distinctly specified. On their arrival at Rome this paper was given to the praefectus urbis, and afterwards to the magister census. The latter enrolled the names Constantinopol. quoted byHeerenGtesch. der class. Litt.ira Mittelalter. I. p. 24. These enactments are considered by Bernhardy (Grundriss der Rom. Litt. p. 91.) as hav- ing originated quite as much in a spirit of despotic jealousy, and an apprehension of academic tumults, as in a paternal sollicitude for the welfare of the institution. This conjecture receives some colour of probability from the fact that students were strictly prohibited from re- maining at this University beyond their twentieth year. of the various applicants in the album of the University, and assigned to them their several departments of study. To there they were henceforward compelled strictly to adhere. *) We are also informed that a record of the proficiency of each student was sent in to the government, in order that the latter might thereby be guided in the selection of fit indi- viduals for the public service.**) §. 46. In the so-called Octagon or Tetradision Earliest the founded by Constantino in the capital to which s'^oou' he gave his name Theology received a preemin- ence completely equivalent to that formerly ac- corded to philosophy. Up to this period all professional acquaintance with this most im- portant subject had been obtained by means the most scanty and irregular. Eminent fathers and teachers of the church, by a practice re- sembling that of the earlier philosophers of *) Ut in primo statim profiteantur introitu quibus potissimum studiis opeiam navare proponaut. Edict quoted by Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. I. p. 75. **) Simile.s autem breves ad seriuia mansuetudinis nostrae annis singulis dirigantur quo meritis siugulorura institutionibusque compertis utrum quandoque sint ne- cessarii iudicemus. Edict quoted by Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. I. p. 76. — 18b — Greece, were wont to assemble around them a small number of zealous and sympathising dis- ciples to whom they communicated their con- victions on the principles of Christian faith and duty. Origen is especially mentioned as one in whose case this mode of activity consti- tuted the principal direction in which his ec- clesiastical usefulness was manifested — and Pamphilus of Caesarea, his adherent and per- sonal friend, is said to have been the first who established a regular theological school. *) The bishops of the earlier church were in the prac- tice of attaching to their persons a number of youthful assistants, who thus served a species of apprenticeship to the duties of the priest- hood ; and this clerus, as it was technically call- ed, became in many cases the training school for aJi entire province. **) All the greatest fathers of the church, Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysostom, and Augustine strenuously and vehemently insisted upon the necessity of a learned preparation for the duties of the sacer- dotal office.***) In the course of time theolo- *) Neander Ch. Hist. 11. 497. **) Neander Ch. Hist. III. p. 213. ***) Neander Ch. Hist. III. p. 211. gical seminaries seem to have grown up in the neighbourhood of the chief learned institutions of the day. The first of which mention is made is that of Alexandria. It is a remarkahle, and significant circumstance that the same city which had first given form and exactness to critical philology, and which at a subsequent period had been distinguished as thp home and centre of Neoplatonic philosophy became in a similar man- ner the birth place of Christian theology. *) In consequence of the high tone of intelligence generally diffused throughout the population of Alexandria by means of the learned institutions for which the place was celebrated it was found necessary in appointing the catechist, or per- son designed to instruct converts, and prepare the young for full admission to the church, to select an individual of cultivated mind, and high literary attainments.**) Clemens Alexan- drinus, the instructor of Origen,***) is de- scribed by Neander as being the first who in a deep conviction of its necessity conceived the design of investing Christian doctrine with the *) Neander Ch. Hist. II. p. 227. **) Neander Ch. Hist. II. p. 225. ***) Photius Biblioth. — 188 — conclusiveness and precision of a strictly scien- tific study.*) *) Biblical criticism was soon felt to be the basis of all sound and scientific theology. The absolute ne- cessity of the profoundest erudition to every one who aims at an intellectual apprehension of Christian doe- trine is emphatically dwelt upon by all the most eminent fathers of the church. St. Basil recommends the study of the ancient classics as the best introduction to' the spirit and meaning of Christianity ( Grafenhahn Gesch. der class. Phil. III. p. 16.). Clemens Alexan- drinus not only maintained opinions identically the same with reference to their general utility in this respect (Strom. I. p. 360. Potter) , but regards the philo- sophy of the ancients as furnishing a dialectic panoply against the attacks of sophists and cavillers (id. p. 377.). He maintains moreover that moral goodness is hardly conceivable unless in conjunction with some degree of intellectual insight (p. 343.): that knowledge is neces- sary for the interpretation of the sacred word; (p. 342.) and that any deficiency in this respect proportionally paralyzes the power of Christianity (p. 453.). He further insists that all. wisdom is from God; that the infinitely varied forms of science all tend to the one highest knowledge; (ibid.) and that the wisdom of the heathens, though di6fering in form from Christianity, coincides with it in spirit and in truth (si ncei dXlijloig dvofioioi, slvai So-KOvdiv , Tip ysvst ys %al oij? Tji dXTj^Bia ofioXoyovvrat ■ rj yocQ ag jjbiXog, rj mg ftf'goff ij' aig sISog rj ag yhog dg £» evvsnstav • tjStj ds iial rj vtcccttj svavxia rf/ vedty ovoa, §. 47. The University established by Con- xetradision of stautine was mainly instituted with a view to ""opU. ' theological study,*) though enjoying also the highest reputation for eminence in philosophy and jurisprudence.**) Here also as in the acade- mic schools of earlier antiquity instruction was communicated in the usual propaedeutic sub- jects composing the Trivium and Quadrivium. The body of teachers consisted of twelve regular- ly ordained priests {oIkov^evi,koi) under the su- al)! afitpca ccqiiovlk fiLa' svtsixql&iiolso aQViog rm nSQixta Siatfiqstai, oiioXoyovai S' a/^cpca zij ccQi&jiriTLKfi - >- - ciraQ %ai iv T

century had entered upon the stimy of Latin litterature with lively activity ..and interest. Grammar and Rhetoric had been .jealously cultivated in conjunction with dia- lectics, and the productions of these authors ,give evidence of a by no means unsuccessful attempt at combining some degree of elegance and correctness of expression with accuracy and fullness of thought. In the century of .which we are now treating the divorce between substance and the form of Philosophy was complete. The writers of the period in which the mendicant orders were supreme exhibit in its harshest form that barbarous and uninviting mode of exposition to which the scholastic philosophy has been mainly indebted for the neglect and oblivion into which it has subse- quently fallen. Again, as representing the monastic principle in its utmost force and in- tensity, the mendicant monks were inevitably — 216 — lead to aim at asserting a complete inSepeii' dence of the jurisdiction of the University, and to regard the welfare of this institution as wholly subordinate 'to the interests of their own order. The establishment of such an im- perium in imperio called forth the most deter- mined opposition on the part of the academic body, which saw its own authority and the in- terests of learning equally imperilled by the aggressions of these restless and unscrupulous precursors of the Jesuits. The long and violent controversies which ensued seem merely to have established by definite statutory enactments what had all along been the tendency, if not the actual usage of the University. The doc- tors of theology were in the first place allowed to form a distinct portion of the University. Their example was soon followed by those of Medecine and Canon law. Ultimately the Na- tions recognized the same principle, and or- ganized themselves as the Faculty of Arts. *) The origin of this title is traced by Bulaeus *) Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 357. Crevier Histoire de I'Universit^ de Paris I. p. 466. 11. p. 55. Savigny Gesch. dee R. R. III. p. 326. Baehringer die Vorrefprmatoren des 14. und 15. Jahrh. p. 26. Eitter Gesch. der Christl. Phil. III. — 217 — to the circumstance that this department of the University included an endless variety of sub- jects, instead of being confined to professors of a single study (ars), as was the case with the other faculties.*) §. 54. One of the earliest, . and most frequent- The univer- •Tp- 1 "jji sities of the ly recurring forms ot academic liie m the middle jij^idie ^^^^ affes no less than in the times of classical an- 'i^voted their o chief atten- tiquity is that in which Universities ■ were tion to parti- founded for the prosecution of some one par- ™^" J^^^^■'"'^ ticular department of professional knowledge. In the tenth century, or before the Norman con- quest of England , Salerno was instituted solely with reference to the cultivation of medical science, and such was afterwards the case with Montpellier also. Paris became peculiarly dis- tinguished as the European metropolis of theo- logical study. Bologna and the majority of the Italian Universities enjoyed a corresponding celebrity for profound acquaintance with th« civil law. The Artistae, or members of the fa- culty of Arts in Bologna, including in their *) Propterea quod non unam Artem, itt caeterae fa- cultates, quae uni duutaxat professioni addictae sunt, sed ornnes indiscriminatim docendi et profitendi ius re- tiuuerunt. (De Patronis 4. Nat. Univ. Par. p. 2.) — 218. — number the Philosophi and Medici, or Physici, were long not permitted to form a corporate body (Universitas), and were always regarded as subordinate to the jurists. In Padua on the other hand the Medici predominated amongst the Artistae, and the rector of the latter was always a Medicus. *) Towards 'the end of the fourteenth century the original system of in- struction in Bologna was augmented by the addition of a theological school. The extra- neous and foreign nature of this adjunct was attested in the fact of its being in all its de- tails an exact copy of the University of Paris, and forming an utter contrast to the admini- strative arrangements of the institution to which it was attached.**) Influence of §. 55. So marked a predominance of the prin- Greeks^^upon ^ipl® of profcssional study as we everywhere the learning QQtice jq the Universities of early Christendom of Vfestern . • i i • ii i ' -i Europe. IS Unquestionably m no small degree to be at- tributed to the influence and example of the learned institutions of that fragment of the Eoman empire which continued to keep alive something of the traditions of antiquity until *) Savigny Gesch. des R. E. im Mittelalter. III. p. ' ■■*) Savigny Gesch. des E. E. III. p. 164. — 219 — long after the mental life of modern times had safely passed the ■worst perils of infantine existence. Knowing, as we do, the extent to which the art of western Europe received its forms and bias from that of Byzantium, it is difficult to believe that the Universities of the Eastern empire did not equally serve as models for institutions which were felt to bear upon interests so vastly more important. Nor does this conclusion rest upon grounds of probability alone. In Hadrian and Theodore we have instances of native Greeks appointed to English archbishoprics*), and assembling around them a body of disciples who doubt- less perpetuated not merely the learning, but also the forms and the method of instruction preserved in the schools of the Byzantines. Theodore, we are told, was a native of Tarsus,**) and in all likelihood a graduate of the acade- mic schools for which that city was so famous. He is spoken of as one of the most learned men of the age, and it is not, impossible that *) Hallam hist, of the Litt. of Europe during the middle ages pp. 88. 91. **) Heeren Geschichte der class. Litt. im Mittelalter, I. p. 88. — 220 — the eminence in this respect which England is subsequently described as maintaining was print cipally due to bis exertions. England and Ita* ly are mentioned as the only countries in the western empire in which schools of higher learning (universitates, studia generalia,*) aca- demiae) existed before the time of Charlemagne, The instruction communicated in the English schools appears to have consisted of a com- *) The term Universitas, according to Savigny, denoted not the school as such, but in the true Eoman sense of the word, the corporation to which the existence of the school had given occasion. That this expression had no reference whatever to instruction in the collective hody of scientific subjects is evident from the fact that in the schools of those times a universitas juristarum and a universitas artistarum are repeatedly found existing side by side. As little is any such meaning to be be recognized in the term studium generale often employed as an honou- rable designation of the higher schools of learning. This expression is found directly applied to a single faculty (that of theology, for instance in the Bull of 1363.) and merely had reference to the extensive aims and influence of the University, as. an institution designed to receive not only native but foreign scholars, and pos- sessed of the right of creating doctors , whose character and position would be every where recognized. (Ge- schichte des E. E. im M. III. p. 380 sq.) — 221 — bination of philological studies with theology. In the institution established by Alfred at Ox- ford three buildings were erected, one for twen- ty grammarians, another for^ the like number of philosophers , and a third for as many theo- logians. So zealously was the study of Greek prosecuted that Bede speaks of having met with several of the disciples of Hadrian and Theodore who spoke that language no less fluently than English.*) §. 56. That Roman law* was taught in the schools afterwards met with in England is evident from testimony already . adduced. Ad- ditional proofs of the influence exerted by the eastern empire upon the earlier mental culture of modern Europe are fumisked in the history of many of the most eminent individuals of that period. John Scotus Erigena whose specula- tions as expounded by Ritter and Neander sound like a forecast of scholastic depth and inge- nuity, and whose personal influence with Charle- magne enabled him to give a decisive bent to *) Heeren Gesoh. der class. Litt. im Mittelalt. I. p. 167. See also A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxfdl-d I. p. 34. where the number of each is stated at twen- ty six. — 222 — the nascent educational institutions o£ the Trans- alpine continent is represented by tradition as having studied in Grreece.*) Even so late as the thirteenth century the same circumstance is recorded of John of Basingstoke -the friend of Glrosseteste. **) - The frequent fluctuations and essays at intellectual progress which mani- fest themselves in the history of an aera once regarded as an homogeneous period of un- broken spiritual night are at length beginning! to be generally rec^nised. In the reigns of Alfred, Charlemagne, and the German Othos, the church gave tokens of a spirit not a little resembling that which afterwards showed itself in matured and irresistible vigour at the re- formation. ***) True intellectual activity is *) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. Cof Oxford I. p. 40. Heereu Gesch. der class. Litt. im M. I. p. 170. **) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I. p. 168. Pauli Gesoli. von England HI. p. 854. ***) Heeren Gesch. der class. Litt. im Mittelalt. I. p. 123. The same period is remarkable as exhibiting a powerful tendency to political organization. It is saga- ciously observed by a German writer that, had the suces- sors of Charlemagne been possessed of the ability re- quisite for carrying out the traditional policy of their dynasty, the world would in all probability have beheld the rise of a sort of Caliphate of the west. — 223 — ever accompanied by the liveliest susceptibili-t ty to kindred influences from without, and the temper of periods such as those headed by the great princes above mentioned was peculiarly favourable to an intelligent reception and study of whatever remnants of ancient wisdom and educational method still survived in the keeping of the Byzantine Greeks. We read according- ly that at this epoch, as at the revival of letters in the fifteenth century, copies, of the writings of ancient authors ('genuine or spurious) were considered peculiarly acceptable presents from the rulers of Constantinople to the so- vereigns of the German empire. The Platonic element, which, contrary to the notions prevalent on the subject, so decidedly predominates in the earlier philosophy of the schoolmen, is well known to have been derived through the channel of the Greek church.*) So ardent indeed was the *) The Tiraaeus of Plato in the translation of Chal- cidius was especially studied, and long continued the main source from which the thinkers of the middle ages derived their knowledge of Platonic philosophy. Abe- lard seems to have been chiefly indebted to Macrobius for such acquaintance as he possessed with this subject, Traces of certain treatises of Plutarch are also met with at this period. The writings of many of the Greek — 224 — thirst for learning in the periods above mention- ed that distance, national prejudice, and even the fiercest animosity of religious fanatism were made light of whenever a step in intellectual advancement was to be gained. Irish and Scottish monks were eagerly welcomed as the instructors and civilizers of Germany and France.*) The celebrated Gerbert, who after having acted as the friend and tutor of the emperor Otho the third was elevated to the Papal chair (A. D. 999.) under the name of Syl- vester the Second, spent a considerable portion fathers were diligently studied; those more especially of Origeu, Athanasius, Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, Basilius, and in the 12tli century, the dogma- tic system of Johannes Damasceuus. Amongst the Latin fathers Augustin seems to have been the chief favourite. The only portion of Aristotle's works with which the schoolmen seem to have heen acquainted before the middle of the 12"! century was that contained in the two first books of the Organon, both of which they posses- sed in translations. The knowledge of dialectics ob- tained from this source was supplemented from Boethius. In the beginning of the 13"i century the remaining writ- ings of Aristotle became known, chiefly by means of translations from the Arabic. Jews were employed in preparing this versions. (Eitter Geschichte der Christ- lichen Philosophic III.) *) Neander church Hist. V. pp. 38. 58. 151. — 225 — of his youth amongst the Moors in Spain,*) whither he had betaken himself for the pur- pose of obtaining an acquaintance with physi- cal science, a branch of Aristotle's system to which the Arabians had devoted an atten- tion as exclusive as that which the schoolmen bestowed upon his logical writings.**) Daniel Morley or Merlac,***) a Master of Oxford, is also recorded to have undertaken a pilgrimage amongst the infidels in the latter half of the twelfth century with the same object. The knowledge thus acquired was at once caught ip throughout Christendom, and made the basis jf the studies of the faculty of medicine in the University system. Not to dwell upon the re- sults of individual zeal and activity, a constant ■nterchange of opinion and feeling was main- ;ained by the vast pilgrimages which formed so *) Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 334. Heeren Jesob. der class. Litt. im Mittelalt. I. p. 115. **) See Eitter Geschichte der christlichen Pliilosopliie II. p. 95. A school of Medicine, Philosophy and Mathe- aatics existed in Bagdad, and according to Leo Africanus fas attended by upwards of 6000 students. Similar in- titntions flourished in Alexandria , and other cities of he Saracen empire. Heeren I, p. 150. 154. ***) A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford. I. p. 151. 15 — 226 — remarkable a feature in the religious life of those times, and, in so far ,as intellectual interests were concerned, a still more important channel of communication kept open by the Recessions which all along took place from the Greek comr munion to that of the Latin church. *) In con- sequence of the lasting and furious controversies which raged throughout the Eastern section of the Christian world on the subject of image worship, monasteries of Greek monks were per- petually maintained at Rome, and similar as- sociations of religious refugees are met with even as far north as Lothringia. **) Augustine, the apostle of England, was selected by Gre- gory the Great from a monastery of this des- cription at Rome. §. 57. The theory of an organic unity of suc- cession in the various forms of academic life from its first appearance in the times of classical an- tiquity down to that period of the middle ages in which it had developed its peculiarities in their fullest integrity is further borne out by *) Heeren Gesch. der class. Litt. im Mittelalt. I. p. 349. **) Heeren Gesch. der class. Litt. im Mittelalt. I. p. 203. — 227 — le extreme and minute coincidence observable etween the internal economy of the Universi- es of the eleventh and twelfth centuries with lat which prevailed in the learned communities f Athens and Alexandria. We have already oticed how completely the features of collegiate fe met with in the most perfect specimens of le modern University are to be recognised in le Museum of the Lagidae, itself doubtless an xact and careful copy of the Academic and 'eripatetic societies in Athens. From the more linutely detailed accounts which we possess f the schools of Athens under the emperors 7e discover that the body of students as in 'aris, Oxford, and Bologna was distributed imongst a certain number of nations,*) each *) 'H (liv yccQ 'E(pa, Ka&daeQ ri yiqag, SitifpavCm eaiphg lijgjjio • TTj* ds 'A^a^Cav dlrix^ diorpavxog, 'Hcpaietiav IE KaxaSsiaag ilpoatpfetor aitijX&tv s| A9rjV(Sv zb v.ai '.v&^amav. IJgoaiQeaio) Si^ d Tlovzog Slog kuI ra ixsivrj tpoffoiHc Tovg biiiXriTocg aliinsfinsv , meiiiq ol%stov aya- (■ov Tov avSqa '9'ofufiajoj^sg. TCQoacTB&Ti Se nal Bi,9vvia cdea Kai 'EXltjanovTog, oaa vtcbq AvSi'ag Si.d trjg v.alov- ihrig '"'"'" ■^''''''S f't' -ffKet""' ««' AvKLav TSivovra Tt^og laficpvXiav Ktti tov Tavqov dtpOQt^STai,- Ai'yvitzog rs tdna TTJs inl rotg Xoyoig dgx^g ^al kItjqov rjv oCusiog tvzai, Kccl ooa vTcig Alyinxov iial itqhg Ai^vrjv avqoiiEva 15* — 228 — TO T£ ayvmatov rsJ.og ?xsi y.al to olKijaifiov. Eunap. vita Proaeresii. The ordinary number of nations ap- pears from this passage to have been four, though two seem occasionally to have been combined under a single head. In the same manner the Jectures of Himerius are said to have been attended by the Bithynians , Mysians, Pergameans, Galatians and Egyptians (Orat. XXII.). The four nations of the University of Athens are supposed by Bulaeus to have been instituted in accordance with the four praetorian praefectures into which the empire was divided by Constantine (Hist. Univ. Par. I. p 251.). The academic population of Paris was divided into four nations, the French, English, Normans andPicards. Under the French were included Spaniards, Italians and Greeks.. Under the English were comprehended not only all the nations of the British Isles but also Germans and Scandinavians. Each nation had its own examiners, beadles , register offices , archives, chapels, in short every thing pertaining to the complete organization of a po- litical body (Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 560.). The scholars of Bologna were arranged according to the two great divisions of Citramoutani and Ultramontani. The former were distributed amongst seventeen, the latter amongst eighteen nations. The number and names of these divisions often varied according to the number of students in each. Birth, not residence was considered in making this distinction. The Germans enjoyed peculiar privileges , on the other hand the natives of Bologna in consequence of their connection with the antagonistic element of the town were not permitted to form a nation (Savigny Gesch. des Eom. Eechts im Mittelalter. III. p. 170.) — 229 — ruled and publicly represented by a proctor of its own.*) A numerous body of sophists in teaching the infinitely multifarious branches of knowledge which were supposed to be required by the perfect orator discharged functions in the highest degree analogous, as we have alrea- dy seen, to those of the magistri and doctores of mediaeval Universities. The admission of the student into the academic body took place in both cases by means of a ceremony of ma- triculation (TfAeTij),** which conferred the right to the title of oxola6Ti%os ^ and the privilege of assuming, as its symbol, the philosophic pal- lium (tQC^cav) , or gown. By an usage followed even now in many Universities , this dress was modified by various diversities of shape and colour, in order to mark the minor divisions of the academic world. The gown of the Aca- demicians is said to have been of a dark gray *) The proctor^ acted first as the representatives of the Kation to the world without , secondly as judges in all cases of internal litigation, and lastly as the hankers and trustees of those belonging to their respective na- tions. (Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Paris I. p. 252.) The proc- tors of Oxford were invested with authority over masters and scholars alike. **) Phot. Biblioth. p. 110. Hoesch. — 230 — or russet colour (cpatog), resembling probably that of the mantle worne by the Capucines of the present day, the sophists on the other hand were clad in robes of crimson, while the Stoics and Cynics were distinguished by a double gown of white possibly not unlike that after- wards assumed by the order of Dominicans. Contrary to the practice which at present pre- vails in English Universities the academic dress was worne not only during residence , but even while absent in the provinces.*) The act of matriculation consisted in a species, of lustral bath, a form not improbably suggested in the first instance by the religiously mystical mean- ing associated with that ceremony. At its con- clusion a fee of considerable amount was paid to the principal sophists, who were herein said to receive the price of the gown (dB%t0&ai t^v row TQipavos a^iav) and the student was form- ally enrolled (sviyQci^d'T]) in the books of the University. **) A ceremony of initiation, though differing in outward form from that of the period we are now describing, seems from its travesty in Aristophanes to have been known at the very *) Liban. £^s Evard9iov rov Kccqcc. init. **) Cresoll. Theatr. Ehet. III. 16. — 231 — earliest times of sophistic history.*) The mode of instruction in the Universities of Mediaeval Europe seems to have been almost identical with that which prevailed in all the learned institutions of antiquity. The (is^srai, diaie- ^sig, (ix£[JL(iara, i,v6£ts and imdsi^eiS) hy means of which the sophists , grammarians , and philo' sophers of classical times were trained to their respective callings, find an exact counterpart in the theses , exercises , and disputations of the schools of the middle ages. §. 58. We may farther remark before taking leave of this portion of the subject that the two great typical forms of the academic life of earlier European history are exemplified in Bologna and Paris, the one the fountain and headquarters of legal knowledge, the other maintaining a similar position with reference to theology and philosophy. The former of those institutions served as the model for the *) Aristoph. Nub. 263 sijq.. **) To the coincidences in externals above mentioned we may add the hat or symbol of the masters degree the origin of'which is no doubt indicated in the epigram •where a grammarian dedicates the azsyavav v.QCCtbs (Jacobs e conj. atiCTiavov) amongst other insignia of his office (Anthol. II. p. 52. 2. Jacobs.) — 232 — Universities of Italy, Spain, and France (with the exception of Paris), the latter for those of England and Germany.*) The Italian Uni- versities approximated far more closely to the external form and constitution of the Byzantine schools, in so far as existing records enable us to discover the peculiarities of the corporate ar- rangements of the latter. This resemblance is especially to be recognised in the fact that the University of Athens seems like Bologna to have been mainly an Universitas scholarium, and not magistrorum as was the case with Paris. In the last mentioned University the corporation consisted simply of the order of teachers, and the students were only noticed as the subjects of the body politic. In Bologna on the other hand the sovereign power was entirely vested in the rector and consiliari, or representatives of the Nations. The professors were regarded merely as individuals hired for the purpose of giving instruction to such of the students as thought fit to combine for this pur- pose. The former had no vote in the meetings of the University, except in those cases where they had previously held the office of rector, and *) Savigny Gesch. des R. E. im Mittelalter. III. p. 124 — 233 — were not even allowed to absent themselves from the town without the permission of the academic authorities.*) In Athens both forms of government seem in a measure to have existed along side of each other. The appointments in philosophy were filled up principally by the vote of the diado%ri, a body apparently corre- sponding to the masters of Oxford and Paris. **) The sophistical chairs on the other hand are invariably described as disposed of by the av- ■d-Qtanoi xal vaoi, that is to say the citizens of the town, and the students of the Univer- *) The object of this apparently singular restriction was to prevent popular and possibly restless professors from betaking themselves to some of the other great schools of the time, and attracting thither the floating and unsettled portion of the learned body, a part of the population of the ancient Universities which was peculiarly large. **) It is hardly necessary to observe that 'we are here speaking of the usage of the philosophic sects When they had already assumed the character of regularly organized and permanently established corporations. In the earlier stages of their history the head of the school named at his own discretion the person whom he considered best qualified to succeed in his stead. Compare with reference to this point a very pleasing story in Aulus Gellius Noct. Att. XIII. 5. — 234 — sity.*) An eminent instance of this circumstance we have already alluded to in the case of the celebrated Gregory of Nazianzus upon whom the scholars of sophistry are said to have con- ferred the professorship of this subject.**) A curriculum §. 59. Plain and unmistakeable as is the study^!xuredP™™i'^®^*^® assigned in the best ages of Uni- in the ancient yersity history to philosophic study exhibiting Universities . , ^ • i i and in tiioseitseli as a practical and creative energy m the of iiie Middle ^g^j,jQ^g fo^mg gf professional life some difficulty ag-es. ^ •/ may be occasioned by the circumstance that the plan of instruction which we have hitherto im- pugned as essentially unacademic, that namely in which the highest mental culture is sought to be attained by means of a course of general sub- jects, appears almost invariably associated with the educational arrangements of such institutions. The presence of the iyxvxha (itt&TJfiKta in con- nexion with all the highest teaching of ancient Greece, the Trivium and Quadrivium in the schools of the later empire, and the studies of the Faculty of Arts in the Universities of more modern times may appear somewhat iiTeconcile- *) Eimap. vit. Proaeresii. **) Gregor. Presbyter. See also Gregor Nazianz. de vita sua carmen p. 4. ed. MorelU, — 235 — able with the historical claims of an exclusive- ly professional scheme of University instruction. §.60. The answer to this objection is suf- Explanation ficiently obvious. Passing over the learned in- °^ "^'^ "'" _ ^ ' cumstance, stitutions of classical antiquity, whose looser organization and less strictly defined precision of outline has been already alluded to, we must remember that in the earlier periods of Euro- pean history the University did not, as at pres- ent, denote merely the culmination of a system of educational institutions. It comprehended nothing less than the entire literary and scienti- fic life of those ages from the humblest elements of rudimentary study to the loftiest flights of philosophic speculation, and united the functions of the preparatory school with the activity and influence which alone deserve to be regarded as properly its own. An irresistible argument in favour of thus engrafting upon the Univer- sity a mode of education not strictly in ac- cordance with its nature was no doubt derived from the circumstance that even when schools capable of affording the necessary amount of preliminary instruction had began to come into existence their connexion with the University was too slight and ill defined for the purposes of mutual cooperation. The advanced age more- — 236 — over of a very large proportion of those who became candidates for matriculation*) strongly urged the necessity of a preparatory course in immediate conjunction with the University. The number of those who from poverty or other unfavourable circumstances had been prevented from obtaining in early life the requisite ac- quaintance with elementary subjects, and had subsequently embraced the resolution of quali- fying themselves for a learned profession would then be peculiarly large, while the want of books constituted an insuperable obstacle in the way of any attempt at making good their deficiencies by means of private study. Such persons even in acquiring the rudiments of scientific knowledge required to be taught upon a principle totally different from that which is applied in imparting instruction to children, and the University, which could not afford to shut its doors upon the entire body of indigent scholars, was obliged to retain permanently much of the furniture of those inferior and collegiate schools out of which it had in so many in- stances itself originally grown. ♦ *) Savigny Gesch. des E. B. III. p. 1S8. — 237 — §. 61. In strict accordance with the prepar- Facuiiy or atory and unacademic character of the instruc- ^'■''.^°"= •^ subordinate to tion it proposed to convey the Faculty of ArtsH'oseofTheo- ■was not recognized as coordinate with those of °Medicinr Theology, Medicine, and Law until the fifteenth century, at which, period its studies began to assume a character essentially different from that which they had hitherto maintained. Thus we find that the classes of this portion of the University were commonly known as the scho- lae minores, to distinguish them from the scho- lae majores of Law, Medicine, and Divinity.*) The subject of critical philology remained so completely in its infancy until shortly before the Reformation that the corresponding depart- ment of the University could not possibly furnish scope for any higher teaching than that of elementary institution. So long as clas- sical learning and genei'ai erudition were con- fined to the knowledge of a few ancient au- *) Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. I. p. 97. See also Huter Hist, of the Englisli Universities I. pp. 34. sqq. In Paris only those Masters of Arts who lectured on Logic, Physics and Metaphysics in the Kue de la Fouarre were recognised as true regents. Those who taught grammar were not considered as possessing this character. (Cre- vier Hist, de TUniversite de Paris IV. p. 248.). — 238 — thors, and a facility in reading and speaking the ecclesiastical Latin of the period it was im- possible to build up a system of professional teaching with materials so scanty, and so little susceptible of scientific method. The Bachelors' degree , which marked the termination of this preliminary course denoted, according to Hu- ber*), simply a step in the school in which it was taken, and held no further reference to the University than as denoting the threshold of legitimate academic study. At Bologna in like manner the term Bachalarius designated no University degree. It was conferred upon a student who had lectured upon a book of Canon or Civil Law, or who had formally ex- pounded a passage in either. **) Of the system of preparatory study which existed in connexion with the academic institutions of antiquity we have already spoken. We may further men- tion that Olympiodorus alludes to a class of students who were not yet • admitted to wear the gown. ***) That this portion of the acade- mic body was the same as the ax^rjtoi, spoken *) Hist, of the English Universities I. p. 31. **) Savigny Gesch. des E. E. im Mittelalter. III. p. 220. *) Photius Bibl. p. 110. Hoesch. — 239 — of by; Philostratus is clear from a passage in the oration of Libanius vjcsq xmv Qrjxoqcav. Tbey were no doubt utterly distinct from the pupils of those inferior schools mentioned by Himerius, ■which were designed to serve as the first preparation for the teaching of the sophists. Soldiers , old men, and merchants are specified amongst those who attended the instruction of Libanius particularly in those initiatory classes which were taught in private. *) In individuals of this description natives of North Britain will not fail to recognize the historical prototype of those Celtic Catos who may be seen commencing Greek at fourscore in the junior classes of a Scotch University. §. 62. This subordinate position of the Facul- when was 1 J 1 J 1 J. this state of ty of Arts was not only put an end to, but com- ^^ing-s pletely reversed in the changes which took place *ang-ed. in the University system at the great revival of letters in the 15* century. The zeal for the new world of learned research opened by the discovery of the remains of the choicest and most fruitful period of the past caused al- most every other department of academic study to be thrown into temporary oblivion and *) Eeisk. ad Orat. Jtpos noXvv.X. init. — 240 — neglect. Learning, whicH, in a merely po- lyhistoric and 'accumulative form, it is true, shewed itself most strongly in the declining glories of the old world, has ever been the inseparable accompaniment of the highest ge- nius, and the most fruitful originality in the new. The age of Charlemagne, of Petrarca, and of Lessing abound in memorable examples of the truth of this assertion. At each of these epochs the remains of antiquity were searched into with an indescribable fervour of enthusiasm, not merely for the information they contained, in which case their utility would soon have been exhausted, but as suggesting eternal principles of thought and action ■ — as a revelation for the noblest life of intellect. In the days of Eras- mus and the Eeformation the profession of the scholar was either openly embraced, or virtual- ly followed by all the most richly endowed and masterly intellects of the time; and the chairs of philology became in fact the most important portions of the whole University course of in- struction. The more elevated and academical character assumed by this subject, together with the greater perfection to which the lower stages of the educational system were gradually brought caused throughout the continent the removal — 241 — from the University of the entire preparatory course, which was henceforward completed with- in the collegiate schools.*) Classical learning, as the most comprehensive and rigidly exact of all the sciences which deal with the results of time, became the very left arm of philo- sophy and academic instruction, but its study in the University was confined to those who intended to embrace philology as a profession. IV. PRACTICAL INFERENCES PROM THE FOREGOING REMARKS. §.1. A single glance at the general character PecuUav pur- and economy of Oxford is sufficient to enable o^fo,;,. the most ordinary observer to recognize in that University the most richly furnished and hap- *) See Discussions &c. by Sir/William Hamilton p. 410. 16 — 242 — pily organized institution for the efficient train- ing of the Clergy and Clerisy of the nation which an auspicious concurrence of circum- stances ever called into life. In accordance with the clearly defined purpose of its exis- tence Oxford is in an especial manner designed to qualify for the ennobling duties of their of- fice the scholar, the divine, and the thinker, as severally exemplifying the three great divisions of the class -which is destined to promote the highest education of the country. We are now speaking not merely of what might, and should he, but of what in a great measure actually is. No one who knows the University need be reminded that nineteen twentieths of those who matriculate at Oxford do so with the intention of entering holy orders, or else of preparing themselves for acting as University tutors, or as masters in collegiate schools. An Oxford degree is recognized by all bishops as qualify- ing candidates for ordination, and, though a further examination takes place before actual investure with the sacred office , the practice is, we believe, of comparatively recent date, and has originated mainly in the failure of those entrusted with the direction of the studies of the University clearly and consistently to — 243 — carry out the principle they involve. For al- though a tendency towards the three highest professions is unmistakeably to be inferred from the provisions of the existing plan of academic education in Oxford, the intention of the scheme is rather hinted at, than distinctly announced — the design is sketched in faint and shadowy outlines, not elaborated in detail. §, 2. No violent or revolutionary changes No radical are needed in Oxford, no alterations of the '''""5^* ^ needed. type of existence either in parts or whole, in the colleges or in the common life of the Uni- versity. Little is demanded beyond a prodi- gious expansion of the existing method of in- struction, a result which can be easily ac- complished by simply making use of the ma- terials which lie ready to our hands. Every requisite for the organization of study on the grandest scale, and in a form eminently noble and expressive is present in prodigal profusion. The mutual aptitude and affinity of the several parts and elements is so decided that it needs but a commencement — a point of chemical unity in order to set in motion a process of life and concretion which will speedily radiate through- out the entire mass. The regeneration of Ox- ford is to be accomplished, we believe, by 16* — 244 — rendering it a thorough and efficient school of all the leading departments of that mental science which, in contradistinction to the sister University, it has become the peculiar province of Oxford to impart. The means of instruction in theology, philosophy, and philology need only be advanced from their present half indicated and uncertain existence to the completeness and systematic form of regular professional train- ing in order to enable Oxford to renew its youth, and rise per saltum to a condition worthily maintaining its ancient eminence and renown. Orig-in ot the §. 3. The Origin and the remedy of many of the most serious evils in the present condi- tion of Oxford are equally made apparent upon a consideration of the rise and developement of the existing collegiate system. As this form of corporate existence constitutes a most inter- esting peculiarity of the English Universities, and is one moreover upon which erroneous im- pressions are especially prevalent, a rapid sketch of the leading events in the history of these institutions may not be regarded as whol- ly irrelevant. §. 4. The practice of living in common in houses rented from the burghers, and desig- nated as hospitia, or Halls is known to have collegiate system. Ancient Halls. — 245 — been the chief, if not the only point of differ- ence between Oxford and Paris, the great centre and model of the academic life of the contin- ent. *) Then, as in the earlier periods of classical antiquity, instruction was in a great measure orally communicated, and the scholars of the English University were led to coalesce in these minor divisions of the entire learned body, partly with a view of adding to the public instruction of a favourite teacher the ad- vantages of his private and familiar intercourse, and partly also from a desire to draw more closely the bonds of friendship and fellow feel- ing amongst themselves. Although the authority of the body of Masters was**) unquestionably extended over these Halls, there is every reason to believe that a very considerable degree of *) Huber Hist, of the Engl. Univ. I. pp. 52. 54. 599. **) Maiden Hist, of Universities and academic degrees p. 81. Even the earlier colleges of Paris exhibit a decided leaning towards the characteristic distinctives of po- pular government. The piior , or head of these institu- tions was annually appointed by the theological students who belonged to the foundation from amongst their own number. Crevier Hist, de I'Universit^ de Paris II. pp. 161. 164. 168. — 246 — personal liberty was enjoyed by the individual students of wliom they were composed. That discipline in its minor details was principally maintained by agreement among the scholars themselves, and not by authority from above, is rendered not improbable from a circumstance which has come down to our notice. We are informed that the Masters publicly desired to be relieved from the necessity of attending to the domestic economy of the Halls. They de- clined being troubled with a mass of paltry detail, and formally made over all care for matters, of this description to the students themselves. The latter appear from all accounts to have by no means neglected the due consideration of all that pertained to the class of creature comforts. Petitions are still extant in which they ener- getically complain of fraudulent practices on the part of tradesmen not a little analogous to those which have come to light at the pre- sent day, and solemnly implore the king that improper materials should not be employed in the preparation of their bread and beer, and, above all, that their wine should not be diluted with water.*) *) The Oxonians of that period seem to have been — 247 — §. 5. The portion of the English University system of which we are now treating is to be regarded as furnishing on the one hand a re- markable instance of the fertility of political genius inherent in the race, and as constituting at the same time a powerful engine for accom- plishing the grandest and best of purposes. As so many common homes, the halls established in every instance a focus of sympathy and at- tachment, producing an incredibly greater in- tensity of public consciousness than was pos- sible in the feebler social life of the Universi- ties of the continent. The rich and eventful history of Oxford at this period — the healthy and vigorous relation of action and reaction in which it stood to Church and State are unques- tionably to be attributed in a peculiar manner to this circumstance. rather noted for their jovial propensities. (See A. Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford I. pp. 164. 440.) A peculiar fatality seems to have attached to the vintages of those times. Somehow or other we find that the wine was invariably either too dear,, or too cheap, or too bad, or too good. The consequences to their ancient adversaries of the town were in any case very much the same. — 248 — Bursao of §. 6. The nearest approach elsewhere Germ!o "uni- f^ii'iiishecl to the ancicnt Halls of Oxford is versiiies. apparently to be found in some of the Bursae of the earliest German Universities. Each of these institutions was placed under the super- vision of a master designated as the rector, or conventor. Wherever the number of residents became too large to be conveniently overlooked by a single individual, a depute (conrector), or adequate number of assistants was also added. The duties of the rector were chiefly limited to a general supervision over the dili- gence and moral conduct of the inmates of the institution. Assistance in their studies was af- forded, and a certain amount of domestic in- struction introduced, but in subordination to the public teaching of the University. The Bursae derived their name from the common fund J or purse (bursae), to which all who became members contributed.*) Government §. 7, The entire organization of the English "V'"'^"?-'*'' Universities at this stage of their developement originally po- presents a far closer approximation to the forms nular in its -, . . . « , , . spirit and and Spirit 01 popular government than is ap- character, *) Discussions on philosophy by Sir William Hamilton, p. 407. 599. — 249 — parent in the character which they subsequent- ly assume. The supreme power appears to have been lodged with the Masters, or con- gregated body of teachers of all Faculties. The mass of the students was distributed, as has been already mentioned, into the two Na- tions of Northmen and Southmen (clercs Nourrois at clercs Sourrois), each under a procurator, or proctor of its own. The union between Masters and scholars was rendered more perfect through the medium of the seniors of the latter, a class belonging in a manner to both, and outwardly forming a part of the undergraduate popula- tion of the University, while attached by every consideration of future interest to the Masters amongst whom they were soon to be promoted. Foundations, fellowships, and the whole machin- ery of the collegiate system exhibited as yet scarcely the feeblest rudiments of existence. §. 8. The decline of the ecclesiastic domin- ion in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries sketched forth by Ranke in outlines so striking and effective, and the simultaneous decay of scholastic philosophy told heavily upon the learned institutions of all Christendom. In Ox- ford this ' darkening of the powers ■ of heaven ' was attended with a variety of calamitous cir- — 250 — cumstances which speedily entailed the uttef ruin of the state of things we have above at- tempted to describe. The immense diminution which at once took place in the attendance upon the University cut off the Masters from their previous means of support, while by nar- rowing the prospect of future employment it operated no less disadvantageously upon the interests of the junior portion of the academic .-^ / world. All classes con^cted with Oxford were reduced to a condition of hopeless penury and distress which attracted the attention of noble and benevolent individuals who had themselves doubtless been attached to the University in some capacity or other during the season of its prosperity. Houses were thus purchased and funds assigned for the relief of the most pres- sing bodily necessities of the poorest class of scholars. The students who became recipients of such charitable bequests were designated as socii, or fellows, in consequence of their par- ticipating in the benefits of the common fund, and belonged for the most part to certain specie fied Faculties. The design of the founders in disposing of the sums bequeathed was evident- *) Huber Hist, of the Eng. Univ. I. p. 177. — 251 — ly to maintain as many as possible, and the support thus furnished was originally intended to last only throughout the continuance of the course of University study. Inasmuch however as the students who frequented the University during this period generally belonged to the ec- clesiastic order, and possessed no means of support beyond the assistance above described, it gradually became a tacitly understood ar- rangement that the maintenance afforded by the college should not be withdrawn from persons of this description until such . time as * they should have succeeded, in obtaining a benefice. §. 9. Charitable institutions of this nature Earnest coi- had begun to come into existence even wheUf^^^^ \hose the Universitv was at the height of its grandeur "f *^ u^^i^n •' ° ° _ Universities. and renown. Merton, University, and Oriel (the two first more especially) date from the period when Oxford stood at the very zenith of its an- cient glory and influence. They occupied how- ever a position which was no doubt very subor- dinate when compared with that of the Halls, and *) According to Wood provision had been made for supplying th? wants of poor scholars so early as the time of Alfred. Hist, and An.tiq. of Oxford I. pp. 42. 184. 185. — 252 — were probably established in imitation of the col- leges already existing in Paris and Bologna. The account given by Savigny of these institutions as they existed in the Italian Universities thor- oughly corresponds with the original character of the colleges in Oxford. He describes them as societies of poor students living in common under a superintendent, and supported by en- dowments. Origin of col- §.10. At Paris in consequence of the high prices occasioned by the prodigious concourse of students, charitable endowments to meet the necessities of the most indigent portion of the academic population had existed from very early times. *) In the eleventh century we read that king Robert instituted a college for the main- tenance of one hundred poor clerks. **) In the middle of the thirteenth century the college of the Sorbonne was founded by Robert of Sorbonne in Champagne for sixteen poor students in theo- logy, four from each of the nations into which the academic world of Paris was divided.***) leg^es atParis. *) Sir W. Hamilton Discussions p. 403. **) Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 392. ***) Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 224. Crevier Hist, de rUuiversite de Paris I. p. 495. — 253 — The Dominicans, Franciscans and otiier religious orders early provided free lodgings for those of their number who resorted to the University, furnishing at the same time small stipends for defraying their other most necessary expenses.*) These establishments were known as Inns, Entries, Hostels, Halls or Colleges, the latter term being generally restricted to endowments which provided for the support of a number of graduates. The arrangements for the main- tenance of discipline in those institutions gene- rally resembled those of the Bursaries of the German Universities as above described. §. 11. The fourteenth century seems every- Founded in where to have been peculiarly prolific in simi- ^^Xrl'dm- lar endowments. At Paris the celebrated col-ing' ^^^ i** . , cenlury. leges of Navarre and du Plessis date their origin from this period. Duboullay not inaptly compares the zeal and munificence directed towards the maintenance of declining learning by means of the endowment of colleges from the middle of the thirteenth to the end of the fifteenth centuries with that which had led to *) Crevier Hist, de I'Universite de Paris I. p. 487. — 254 — the founding of monasteries in more ancient times.*) Extinciion of §. 12. In Oxford the relief thus furnished ^'^'offord '"'"^^s ^0 striking and so urgently called for that bequests of the same kind increased in number and importance, until, with the gradual disap- pearance of the other constituents of the former academic state, the fellowships and colleges alone remained as the skeleton and frame work of University existence.**) During the reigns of Henry the seventh and Henry the eighth the Halls which had formerly composed the basis of the whole social organization of the University fell into utter decay, and became little more than a supplement of the colleges. ***) With the extinction of the Halls there arose a practice of augmenting the revenues of the various colleges by receiving wealthier students as boarders; and the existence of the class of students known under the name of 'commoners' was thus originated. In the fifteenth century *) Haec igitur fuit pietas hujus seculi non monaste- ria fundare ut superioribus seculis factitatum est , sed collegia pauperum scholarum. Hist. Univ. Par. III. p. 659. **) Huber Hist, of the Eng. Univ. I. p. 177. ***) Wood Hist, and Antiq. of Oxford, — 255 — fellowships were no longer endowed for the purpose of assisting mere stu'dents through their respective courses of study, but as a permanent means of subsistence to poor young men of the clerical order who had evinced a taste for learned pursuits, and the degree of Master was henceforth made a necessary condition for hold- ing such appointments.*) §. 13. So radical an alteration in the con- chang-eofthe dition and social constitution of the academic ''^^"0°^^^^'"/ body was not of course unattended by cor- responding changes in the system of that scientific education whose furtherance con- stitutes the primary and essential purpose — the one chief end of University existence. A thorough dissolution of the professional Faculties at once ensued. **) The legal Inns of court were at an early period transferred to London. Phi- losophy had long since become a barren contest of words ; ***) in fine nothing of the former plan of study remained in existence beyond the preparatory course, and such a meagre outline *) Huber Hist, of the Eng. Univ. I. p. 204. **) Huber Hist, of the Eng. Univ. I. p. 158. ***) Ritter Geschichte, der christlichen Philosophie III. p. 63. — 256 — of the rudiments of theological doctrine as would continue to survive among the ignorant and slothful residents of a decayed religious town. Eng-iami and §. 14. Everj circumstance recorded of this *Univer°sme!'P^"°^ of the history of Oxford goes to prove in the ag-e of that the coUegcs were not* originally instituted with any of that reference to intellectual culture which held in union the members of the ancient Halls. *) They were simple endowed charitable institutions attached to the University, and their whole internal economy was far more strongly tinged with a religious than with an academic character. The principals of these societies were chosen, then as now,**) with no reference to intellectual qualifications, and though certain exercises were enjoined upon the fellows while yet in the preparatory stage of scholars , or learners , they appear to have been of infrequent occurrence, and of an extreme- ly insignificant nature. During the earlier pe- riods of the collegiate system the scholars be- longing to these associations pursued their *) Huber Hist, of the Engl. Univ. I. p. 207. Sir W. Hamilton discussions &c. p. 442. **) Sir W. Hamilton discussions &c. p. 443. — 257 — studies. in the lecture rooms of the University. Even at that later stage of the history of Ox- ford when fellowships began to assume more of the character which they exhibit at the present day the duties connected with these appointments appear to have been entirely re- ligious, or rather sacerdotal in their nature. Tuition, wherever it was afforded, appears to have proceeded wholly from the impulses of individual inclination.*) The active intercourse opened up between England and Italy in the time of the reformation, and the powerful stimulus imparted to all the functions of higher humanity by the revival of classical learning seems to have nowhere exercised an influence more happy and lifegiving than in Oxford. Many exquisitely refined and highly cultivated intellects appeared to resuscitate the half for- gotten fame of the learned metropolis of Eng- land, and the letters of Erasmus abound in ex- pressions of wonder and delight at the pro- found erudition, elegant tastes, and noble human- ity which he discovered in the Universities, and at the court of the Tudors.**) We finding him *) Huber Hist, of the Engl. Univ. I. p. 215. **) Tantum humanitatis atque eruditionis hie offendi, 17 — 258 — giving utterance to these sentiments, not merely in his correspondence with Englishmen, but in communications with friends on the continent, in which of course he was less likely to be led into hyperbole from motives of courtesy. In a letter to Jacobus Banisius (Brussels 1519.) he goes so far as to say that the court exhibited a larger number of scholarly men than any University (aula regis plus habet hominum eruditorum quam uUa academia), and in another epistle of the same date addressed to the arch- bishop of Mens we read that "apud Anglos triumphant bona litera. Rex ipse cum sua re- gina Cardinales ambo, Episcopi ferme omnes toto pectore tuentur, favent, alunt ornantque." Want of space does not permit us to adduce many other .passages in which he expresses him- non illius protritae ac trivialis, sed reconditae, exactae, antiquae, Latinae Graecaeque, ut iam Italiam, nisi vi- sendi gratia , baud multmn desiderem. Coletum meuin quiim audio Platonem ipsum mihi videor audire. In Groeino quis ilium absolutum discipliuarum orbem non miretur? Linacri judicio quid acutius, quid altius, quid emunctius? Thomae Mori ingeuio quid unquam finxit natura vel moUius, vel dulcius, vel felicius? Iam quid ego reliquum catalogum recenseam? Mirum est dicta quam hie passim, quam dense veterum literarum seges efflorescat. Ep, ad. Eobertum Piscatorem. (V. 2.) — 259 — self with equal warmth and emphasis. When- ever he recurs to the subject of his residence in England, which is very frequently the case, he descants with enthusiasm upon the accom- plishments and personal character of those with whom he had there become acquainted. *) *) The impartial severity of historic truth compels us to add however that subtler and more sediictive in- fluences appear to have contributed to that deliciously roseate hue with which everything in England is in- vested in the eyes of Erasmus. This sprightliest and most delightful of scholars and reformers seems from his own admission to have been caressed amongst the fe- minine portion of English society in a style, and to an extent which would send a thrill of hatred through the bosom of the most envied pet parson of existing times. A quiet and confidential note to a poetic friend , Eaustus Andrelinus , gives us a glimpse into the small life of the day , and fully accounts for those rapturous associa- tions which caused even our climate to come in for a share of his eulogy. "Tu quoque si sapis hue advolabis. Quid ita te juvat hominem tam uasutum inter merdas Gallicas consenescere? Sed retinet te tua podagra. Ut ea, te salvo, pereat male! Quanquam si Britannia dotes satis pernosses, Eauste, nae tu alatis pedibus hue ac- curreres ; et , si podagra tua non sineret , Daedalum te fieri optares. Nam, ut e plurimis unum quiddam attiugam, sunt hie nymphae divinis vultibus , blandae, faciles , et quas tu tuis Camenis facile anteponas; est praeterea mps nunquam satis laudatus. Sive quo venias, omnium 17* — 260 — Amongst the European celebrities of this period we find the, names of many Oxonians, and it may well be doubted whether the peculiarly poe- tic spirit which breaths around the events and personages of the Elizabethan period, as well as the antique elevation of character and gran- deur of resolve which distinguished the men of the commonwealth is not more to be at- tributed to the influences direct and indirect of the Universities, as the twin fountain heads of English philology, and of that nobler life to which the knowledge of classical antiquity has ever been the chief, if not the only highway*) than historians have commonly recorded. osculis exciperis; sire discedas aliquo, osculis dimitteris: redis? redduntursuavia; venituradte? propinantur suavia ; disceditur a te? dividuntur basia; occurritur alicubi? ba- siatur affatim ; denique quocumqiie te moveas suaviorum plena sunt omnia. Quae si' tu, Fauste, gustasses semel quam sint moUicula, quam fragrantia, profecto cuperes non decennium .solum, lit Solon fecit, sed ad mortem us- que in Anglia peregrinari. Caetera coram jooabimur." Erasmus cunningly attempts to pass off what he had experienced as merely the general custom of the country. This however is evidently a mere blind , and adopted in order to avoid the egotism of recounting- a most in- vidious instance of personal good fortune. *) Der Weg zum hohereu Leben, der uur durch das Alterthum fiihrt. Niebuhr an den Freiherrn von Stein. — 261 — §. 15. Eminent however as were the attain- No improve- ments of these individuals , inspiring- and in- '"™* '". *''° ' jr o collegiate vigorating as their example and personal in-sysum then fluence can hardly fail to have proved, the forms and spirit of the semimonastic institutions which composed all that remained of the old academic organization of Oxford was intrinsical- ly too unfavourable to learned industry and free- research to admit of any permanent or extensive triumph over the torpor and sterility which seems finally to have taken possession of the University. No radical change was ef- fected in the character and purposes of the col- leges. The relation between scholar and teacher continued to be extremely lax and undefined. Tuition, with the exception of the nugatory exercises prescribed by the college authorities, was, in the mass of the fellows at least, aban- doned to the accidents of individual fancy. Enthusiastic admirers of the newly discovered lore for a time gathered around them assem- blages of kindred spirits from amongst the younger members of the University, but no abiding traces seem to have been left in the shape of new institutions, or even of any very decided modification of the collegiate system. §. 16. In the learned and ably developed ex- — 262 — position of this subject from which the above account has in a great measure been compiled no graduate of Oxford will fail to discover the fullest explanation of the abuses and anomalies which at present so completely overload and obscure the groundform of academic life in that University. "With the exception of the change from abject poverty to a plethora of wealth every other feature of the picture above given remains unaltered. The absence of any strict and well defined principle of connection between collegiate and University study,' the scanty extent to which the resources in men possessed by all the colleges are taken advan- tage of for the purpose of supplying adequate and efficient tuition, the monstrously absurd and unmeaning restrictions upon the competition for fellowships, and the generally puerile an'd imperfect character of the instruction imparted, all at this day give distinctest evidence of an institution founded with no direct reference to learning, and which, though supplemented with a tutorial element, has never yet been so far diverted from its original character as thorough- ly and skillfully to serve the purposes of higher intellectual ti'aining. — 263 — §, 17. That a searching revision and reform Portions of of many portions of such a system is impera-*^y°,'/J_^'J^'^'i'; tively called for the bare statement of its lead- ■■'='1''''''= to be ing pecularities will suffice to show. Every '^''uumiy"'^ portion of the collegiate economy which is '>''°''sii''ti- based upon the original design of a religious j poorhouse should at once be done away with, or at best only suffered to exist in the emptiest of commemorative forms. Historical antecedents arising out of such a conception can possess no intrinsic value or dignity whatsoever, while seriously interfering with interests for too mo- mentous to be sacrificed in the smallest par- ticular to mere antiquarian sentiment. They spring from a condition of the University which can only be regarded as abnormal, if not posi- tively degrading. The period of the academic past to which they refer furnishes no examples of action beyond the munificence of their humane and venerable founders. The charitable pur- poses which the collegiate system was original- ly intended to serve are now, of course, not only not fulfilled, but directly reserved. From being semiliterary asylums for ecclesiastic paupers they have become so luxurious and expensive as to exclude all below the wealthiest portion of the professional classes. A persistance in sta- — 264 — tutary regulations whicli derive their whole pertinency from such a design is therefore simply nonsensical. Far mote respect would be rendered to the memory of founders and benefactors by interpreting their intentions in such a manner as to meet the permanent require- ments of the University, and to accomplish high patriotic ends, than by a slavish adherence to the letter of their injunctions which can at the utmost amount to a keeping of the promise to the ear, while flagrantly breaking it to the sense. §. 18. In proceeding to consider the practical measures suggested by the foregoing inquiry no one will of course expect us to furnish any thing approaching to an elaborate exposition iiccount of the particulars of a scheme of col- lege reform. All that can be required is a clear and well defined statement of the guid- ing principles which in any and every move- ment in this direction should rigidly be ad- hered to. While preserving, and, if possible, even deponing individual differences the col- leges of Oxford should be iransformed sing- ly and collectively in accordance with one common design, that of serving as the most perfect and .admirably instituted schools of learning and higher mental science which ex- — 265 — ifiting circumstances admit of. The remark may sound truistic, but past experience shows that it is not wholly superfluous. All the ar- rangements of these societies should be remo- delled with the view of accomplishing the greatest amount of 'work' attainable by the strictest economy of labour, and the most scien- tific application of all the resources they can respectively command. The social organization of college life should not only be retained, but even more widely extended by the forma- tion of offshoots in the form of halls, under the superintendence of one or more of the col- lege tutors, a plan which we are happy to learn has already in some instances been adopted. Mean and uninteresting as may have been the origin of the collegiate system, the general form of its social arrangements not only coincides with, but completes that life in community which ranks so high as a means, and an end — as an essential agency, and ultimate purpose of all education. The college with its appointments thrown open to the widest competition, with distinct departments of learning and science assigned to its several officials, and relieved from that incubus of oligarchical administration which an ancient .writer justly describes as — 266 — peculiarly at enmity with all good*) would simp^ ly become a vastly expanded, and more perfect: variety of the ancient Hall. As such, it would furnish a most admirably calculated system of means and appliances for conveying' that mo- ral discipline which the English schools of learning even in the rudest and most primitive periods of their existence wisely recognised as constituting one of the two. leading objects of all University instruction.**) Assig-nment §• 19- ^0 chaugo in the present system is, or disiinct ^g conccive , more loudly called for than that subjects of T 1 . . r\ study to the methodical reorganisation of College study to ~lhToi- which we have previously alluded. The fellow- '■^so- ships of every college should be distributed among the different divisions of Theology, Scholarship, and Philosophy in a manner pro- portionate to the relative importance of each. In the subject with which the writer happens to be more immediately conversant two ap- *) Thuc. III. 62. 07CSQ Ss iari vofioig v.al rm acocp^o- vsarata ivavTicotccxov, dvvdaxiia oXiycav avd^mv sixs ta nQccyfiara, **) 'AvayKaiov zov tsXslov avSqa iial &s(aQT]ziv,ov stvai rmv ovTcov, y.al tcqcckzi-v.ov rmv Ssovrmv. Plat, de placitiS philosophor. p. 874. Eeiske. — 267 — pointments of this nature might in each of the colleges be assigned to Greek criticism, and as many to a similarly exact acquaintance with the laws of grammatical expression in Latin. A fifth and sixth might in the same manner he given to individuals whose especial office it should be to impart skill in composition, and a practical acquaintance with both the learned languages. The history of Greece would serve as the subject professed by a seventh, with a corresponding tutor for that of Rome. Archaeology, and the interpretation of the monumental remains of the two great nations of the past would in the same manner furnish an ample field for the exertions of an addi- tional instructor. Prodigal and visionary as such a portioning out of the means of educa- tion in a single department is, we fear, likely to seem, so large is the number of fellowships in all the principal Colleges that were an ana- logous method of distribution applied in the case of Divinity and Philosophy there would in most cases still remain a large surplus for which it would be difficult to find University employment. The immense resources of Ox- ford in this respect will be apparent to every one who gives a glance at the Calendar for the — 268 — year. St. Johns it will be seen contains not less than fifty fellowships, New College se- venty, Magdalen thirty, Exeter twenty five, Merton twenty four, Brasenose, Pembroke and Corpus each possess twenty, Worcester nine- teen, Oriel and Jesus eighteen, Wadham fifteen, Balliol, Trinity, Lincoln, and University twelve respectively. In a word there is scarcely one of these institutions which does not contain within itself means more than sufficient for affording instruction in every subdivision of that class of sciences which Oxford is more especially designed to represent. Orig-inai con- §• 20. It is a circumstance worthy of remark siituiion of ^jjg^^ -jj ^jjg collee-iate establishment founded by Christ Cliiirch. ° •' Wolsey on a scale of such characteristic mag- nificence and splendour we perceive an entire abandonment of the almshouse prototype, and a thorough adaptation of collegiate forms to the purposes of an almost purely intellectual culture. Christ church, according to the original design, was intended to comprise the educational furniture of an entire University. The college here stood to the University in very much the same relation which the family holds to the state. It exhibited in miniature the great out- — 269 — lines of the principal institutions, and. leading tendencies of its sublimer counterpart, and thus brought home to the individual in concentrated and tangible form the most universal and es- sential influences of the vast and magnificent whole into the complex of which he would other- wise have entered as a mere unconscious atom. §. 21. The course of instruction enjoined by the original statutes was strictly professional with the usual adjunct of a preparatory course. A body of professores puhlici were appointed in Divinity, the Civil and Canon Law, Medicine, the Liberal Arts, and Humanity, who, though, especially attached to Christ Church, were bound to read publicly before the students of the entire University. In correspondence with the above Wolsey also created a class of professores domesiici, whose duty it was to give private instruction to undergraduate members of the college in Philosophy, Logic, Sophistry, and Humanity.*) *) Many of the most remarkable features in the scheme of Wolsey are evidently suggested by the collegiate system which had then developed itself with such re- markable perfection and success at Paris. The colleges of Paris were , as Christ church was meant to be, Uui- — 270 — Reiaiiou §. 22. The design of this institution derives which profes- ^(j^jg^j, interest from the attempt which it sonal should ■*■ ^ bear to tutor- exhibits to comblne a scheme of collegiate with "'University teaching. In this , as in every other instance of wise political adjustment; harmonious coexistence ; and community of action can re- sult from no rude approximation to a mere arithmetical mean. It can only spring from that judicious distribution of the suum cuique which is founded upon a delicate and acutely versities in miniature. They were all devoted to par- ticular Faculties , or departments of Faculties. The Sorhonue, for example, comprised the whole instruction, acts, and excercises of the theological school, and thus became convertible with the theological Faculty of Paris. Eegent masters nominated and controlled by their Fa- culties were appointed as lecturers in each of the several colleges. These lectures were ultimately thrown open to members of other colleges, and to those University students who belonged to no college at all. In the lat- ter half of the fifteenth century the colleges de plein exercise in the Faculty of Arts amounted to eighteen in number. ' There were about eighty smaller colleges (pe- tits colleges) which provided their scholars with food and lodging, but only taught them the elements of philo- logy, sending them to the greater colleges for all higher learning. (Discussions on philosophy etc. by Sir W. Hamilton, p. 402.) — 271 — discerned discrimination*) of the essential pe- culiarities and distinctive virtues of each. Were more thought and study expended upon the endeavour closely and accurately to determine the respective provinces of the University and the college, the result would be that, instead of producing, as at present, a dead lock on the way to all improvement, they would be found to lend each other the most energetic and im- portant aid in accomplishing the high ends of that education which each calculated so es- sentially to promote. Collegiate appointments are evidently meant to furnish a class of tutorial professors corresponding to the professores do- mestici above mentioned, and bearing some re- semblance to the privatim docentes of contin- ental Universities, though far more vitally one with the University, and occupying a station of infinitely greater honour and responsibility. Offices of this nature would naturally serve as an apprenticeship and stepping stone to the more commanding position, and ampler influence of the professor publicus, or University lecturer. •The latter again, should be to the learned body *) Aristot. Eth. Nic. V. t. 8. Plut. Symposiac. p. 718. Beisk. — 272 — of the University generally very much, what bishops are to the church. They should be called upon to exercise a leadership and super- vision over the Masters and scholars who belong to the Faculties they respectively represent. Appointments of this description should be re- garded as the prizes of the University, and as such would be filled up from the foremost and most conspicuously useful of the whole tu- torial body. §. 23. The real, every day work of the Uni- versity should, we believe, now as heretofore be accomplished within the college walls, and under the more individually applied and search- ing examination of tutorial teaching. Wider general views, new revolutions of systems of truth , broad aspects of the future of science would remain the especial province of the pro- fessor. Detail is invariably irksome, if not wholly thrown away upon a large audience however composed, and for this reason public lectures can never be made the basis of a severe and thorough system of academic educa- tion. The office of professor in this more re- stricted acceptation of the term is one which few are capable of supporting with dignity and real usefulness. Few are enabled to turn the — 273 — cathedra to any higher end than that of exciting talkativeness, instead of awakening Ideas. The farthest range of observation had need be sought through before we can hope to find one ■Whose eloquence and greatness of personal character gives promise of that grand oratorical power of permanently impressing the masses — who can evoke, direct, and embody those vast and incalculable potencies which live latent in all the nobler specimens of collective hu- manity. §. 24. We have already seen that the actual The Umver- requirements of higher study, and the uniform ^''^^^^J'^pre^ practice of the most instructive periods of thep^i^e for the 1 1 T • ^ 1 XT ■ M'^sters de- past demonstrate that the education oi the Uni- gree. vfirsity is properly concerned with the masters dkqree alone. That part of its teaching which is intended to qualify candidates for the degree oi Bachelor of Arts has ever been an excrescence upon the system, a departure from the prin- ciple of academic instruction, in condescension to the educational imperfections of earlier times. Without being prepared to advocate the ex- pediency of entirely abolishing this portion of the existing course we cannot but think that a much closer approximation to the rigour of academic study is both possible and desirable 18 — 274 — at a time when all preparatory instruction can be, and in a great measure is imparted in col- legiate schools. At the same time with a ques- tion so grave aud momentous as that of sb: iecting the occupation of after life it may wfill be doubted whether a species of academic no- viciate would not under all circumstances be advisable. Every good purpose however which could possibly be answered by retaining 'the studies of such a preparatory course would be quite as well attained in one half the period now assigned to it. That in so doing we should in reality return to the principle of former times is moreover evident from the extremely childish age at which this part of education was then completed. The statutes of the Uni- versity, and the biography of distinguished men show that in the earlier epochs of English history the degree of Bachelor of Arts was commonly taken about the same age as that at which matriculation occurs at present.*) *) Thus we find it enacted in the University of Paris that every determining Bachelor, or candidate after pre- paration for the degree of Bachelor of Arts , must be at least twelve years of age. Bulaeus Hist. Univ. Par. II. p. 677. — 275 — §. 25. The subjects taught in this introduc- Subjects tion to the intellectual life of the University '''''''' ''^""l'' J be required should be exactly those which are most uni-from cancu- versal in their bearings, and lead most com- ' y/che"™-? ° jiletely as the prelude and portals to the entire degree. universe of scientific culture. In other words the stjidies of this period should remain very much what they actually are. Classical Philology, Mathematics, and Logic are, it is almost need- lessi to say, the very threshold and access to all learned study whatsoever. In Mathematics we behold of course the great Organon of phy- sical science in all its departments. Logic again in a' manner no less universal furnishes the student with a canon of thought and utterance on every topic. An exact acquaintance with the learned languages may be regarded as equally indispensable were it only from the fact that the text books and masterpieces in Theo- logy, Philosophy, History, and Eloquence, that is to say in all the most momentous subjects of human meditation: and inquiry are con- tained in those tongues. Opportunities and inducements which would not be wanting would amply suffice to fill up and adorn tl^e existing frame work with many ligh- ter accomplishments, and much general infor- 18* — 276 — mation. All this however would be wisely- abandoned to the tastes and interests of the in- dividual student. The requirements of the University, even where bare admission intp the lists of citizenship is concerned, should bear the same stamp of austere simplicity and simple minded adherence to essentials which charac- terises her own proper teaching. §. 26. We may here take an opportunity of considering a practical difficulty which may seem to place no trifling limit to the applica- tion of that plan of study for which we have claimed the widest and most unconditional va- lidity. A system of instruction so entirely based upon the strongest determination of ail the powers of will and intellect upon subjects destined to maintain their paramount import- ance throughout the whole duration of suc- ceeding life, may not appear in accordance with the requirements of that numerically small, but politically and socially most import- ant body, who from circumstances of wealth and station are relieved from all anxiety on the score of a future maintenance, and conse- quently are under no immediate necessity of acquiring an acquaintance with a single de- partment of knowledge so exact as to enable — 277 — them to find therein the one and only means of maintaining existence bodily as well as spi- ritual. Admitting that a considerable deviation from the strict rule of academic instruction seems all along to have been conceded in the case of students of the class here referred to we cannot help more than doubting whether a decided departure from a principle so uni- versally human, and so essentially associated with the life and the efficiency of the Univers- ity can in any instance be either necessary or desirable. Life with the higher classes, if possessed of either dignity or character, must exhibit the same statuelike firmness of outline, and be directed with equal accuracy upon clearly comprehended, and heartily embraced objects as in the case of the more ontwardly restricted, and less fortunefavoured portion of mankind. The certainty and distinctness of design elsewhere imparted to existence by the unyielding data of external circumstances will be all the more strongly asserted in those who cherish the sentiments naturally sug^ gested by illustrious birth and dignified social station, as resulting from the free choice of a position essentially distinguished from all that is mean and common place, and evincing a — 278 — spontaneous recognition of the noblest and iittest uses of the factors of worldly power and influence. Political life and action, to which persons of this class are more especially invit- ed, exhibits itself in the greatest variety of individual types , each mentally reflected and summed up in a corresponding system of scien- tific study. The student who looks forward to a parliamentary career as the occupation of his future life need be no more embarrassed in selecting the branches of knowledge to which he should devote especial attention while a member of the University than his academic associate who makes choice of the vocation of the scholar or the divine. Nature, and the nisus of mental growth, as exhibited in the form of personal preference, will guide indivi- duals of the class first mentioned, as it dots all others, to the studies corresponding with the form of public usefulness in which they likely to shine hereafter. Political science, Mo- ral Philosophy, History, or some other of the infinite multiplicity of topics embraced und^r the general category of 'Arts, at once suggest themselves as indicating the class of studies to which such persons would naturally devote their attention, while the Masters degree in — 279 — one or other of these subjects would give pub- lic testimony to the legitimate completion of their academic career. V. UNlrERSITY SYSTEM OF GERMANY. ITS LEADING EXCELLENCIES AND DEFECTS. i'§. 1. As regards the general type and caaracter of academic study we should discard me of the most weighty and convincing argu- ments in favor of that strict unity of aim T:pon which we so earnestly insist as the vital pinciple of education in its noblest and most prfect form if we did not draw attention to tie fact that it is precisely to the presence of tiis principle that the learned institutions of (rermany are indebted for their unrivalled •minence in the academic world of the existing aera. It is not however without many misgiv- ings that we point to [this example of the — 280 — workings of the plan we advocate, striking and incontrovertable as it is, well knowing how fatal such an allusion is likely to prove to its practical success with the people of this^ country. It is in vain we fear to urge upoji those who are so much the slaves of names, and so determined to be deceived that of ill countries in the civilized world Germany flr- nishes the richest field of observation in iall that relates to learning and learned institutims, and that, at all events, there would be jess discredit in discovering and adapting a prinaple than in shamelessly plundering its results. 'For it is not a little remarkable that one nowleip hears so many silly sneers at the great fam of our continental kinsfolk than in the countr where scarcely any thing above a newspap€ has appeared for half a century which does nc owe its reputation to the most wholesale, an often most impudent appropriation of tb learned labours of the Germans. German §• 2. We are, we trust, far from being ii Universities discriminate admirers of everything Teutonic Iramed upon j ^d the same ge- In the lajid of Luthor at the present day, al in the best and brightest ages of ancient' story, there are multi thyrsigeri, pauci Bacchi. At the neral design as our own _ 281 — same time jicijidod'ai, qaov rj (iLneMd-m. It is easier to pick holes in a great character indivi- dual or national than to imitate one tithe of its excellence. A man, a people, and a tendency, are to be estimated, not by incidental frailties, and occasional, or even frequent mistakes , but by the amount and character of the good they ultimately leave behind them. The chaff is scattered to the winds, the grain is garnered up by the Fates for ever. As regards our- selves, if we studied the Germans more, and stole from them less, it would fare all the bet- ter with the interests of mental enlightenment, arid none the worse with those of our own originality. It is a poor and feeble counterfeit of independence which dares not venture to learn from the experience of others, and whose only chance of intellectual fertility depends upon the abandonment of every attempt at as- similation from without. 'Vicini quo pacto niteant in id animum advertito. Caveto alienam disciplinam temere contemnas ', is the advice of one of the most originalminded and strongly defined characters in a people whose place in history has been preeminently won by force of intellect, and grandeur of practical — 282 — power.*) "The man/' says Schelling, "who most in a condition to produce is the pars of all others from whom learning and studio receptivity demands the smallest amount self sacrifice."**) No where is this ohstins refusal to study and profit by the example other European nations so peculiarly sensele as when exhibiting itself in the shape of o jection to reforms suggested by the Germ Universities. In point of general economy the institutions present throughout the greatest ; finity to our own, with which, as we have : ready seen, they are identical in point of o ginal design, the model in both instances ha ing been derived from the University of Par Defective as §'3. The acadcmic system of Germany wi regards pi^r- ^escrves our most thoughtful consideration, le poses of in- *-■ ' • siruction. howcvor as regards external form , or the pi of instruction pursued, both of which are sing larly bald and meagre, than with reference the method of prosecuting learned and scie *) Cato de re rustiea c. 1. Compare also Polyb. '' 25 extr. 'Aya&ol yag, si ■x.aC xivsg BtBQOt, fisraXaP f'9'jj, v-al ^Tjlcoaai to ^sXtiov v.a\ 'PcoiiaCoi. **) Gerade dem, der am ehesten zu produciren Stande ist, das Lernen am wehigsten VerlSugnu'ng kosi kann. Schelling Acad. Vorles. p. 50. — 283 — tific inquiry. It sheds more light on those functions of the schools of learning which re- late to the advancement of science, and the dissemination of general enlightenment, than on those which are designed to promote the moral elevation, and intellectual progress of the individual student. No one can have formed any practical acquaintance with the academic institutions of Germany without having his at- tention drawn to the extremely secondary im- portance which the class and its duties occupy in the eyes of the professor. As to the indi- vidual student no steps whatever are taken to ascertain whether he in any degree benefits from, or even comprehends the import of what he listens to — a circumstance which must ren- der professorial prelections almost utterly useless to a large portion of the audience, especially in those subjects where the loss of a single step involves the sacrifice of all that follows. Nor is this deficiency on the part of the instructor at all remedied by any peculiarity in the mode of reception by his hearers. Of these all the most industrious are far too much engros- sed in the mere drudgery of transcribing the lecture word for word as it falls from/ the lips of the professor to have a moments leisure for — 284 — estimating the truth and import of what ha been propounded to them. Even in those cassE and they are any thing but few and far between where the lecture is not a mere excerpt o treatises long since published, upon which th professor bases his fame and position, am where of course a sum far less in amoim than the entrance fee would put the studeu in complete possession of the entire course there is something so clumsy and unskilfu as well as mindless in this mechanical quil] driving that in a country more fertile in es pedients for economizing time and labour w are positive the whole system would long ag have been superseded by some simple com bination of steam and machinery. A few oi dinary lawyers clerks, for that matter, or single newspaper reporter would accomplish a that could be desired with a saving of wee and tear on the part of more refined and cu tivated intellects for which the world woul have reason to be grateful. §. 4. Perhaps the greatest objection to th: system of academic instruction is to be foun however in the dreary, formless formalism in! which it infallibly degenerates. The fact : that the professorships in German Universiti( — .285 — have gradually settled down into something not unlike what fellowships of Oxford and Cambridge would become with the condition of delivering a course of lectures in each session attached to their tenure, and are vir- tually little more than a provision by the state for the maintenance of a number of eminent individuals in circumstances favourable to the prosecution of learned and scientific investiga- tion. The tie which under this system con- nects the professor with the University is ex- tremely slight and nominal. By far the greatest share of his time and attention is given to bookmaking. He is an instructor, not so much of academic youth, as of the world at large. Whether this may or may not be the far higher function of the two, we will not attempt to determine. It is quite enough for our pre- sent purpose that the University, in its closer connexion with the immediate and daily edu- cational wants of the nation, is something quite distinct from the scientific institute; and that in a system where all that relates to instruction is thrown so completely into the back ground the essential objects of the former can not be said to be properly attained. §. 5. That the professor of the University — 286 — is in an especial manner called upon to bea himself conspicuously in the van of discover; none are more deeply persuaded than oiirselveE Not only does this lie in the very notion o the University, as the fountain and centre o speculative life, from which the highest though of the nation proceeds, and to which it returns but even with reference to mere educationa efficiency it is evident that nothing will giv( the professor so powerful a hold upon the mindi of his class as when he approves himself ii advance, not merely of their transient im maturity, but of the scientific attainments o: the entire age. At the same time there cai be little doubt that by entirely sinking th( character and functions of the instructor i: those of the solitary investigator a most im portant duty is left unfulfilled with little or n( proportionate advantage to the cause of know ledge. Nay farther there is every reason to con elude that the portion of time withdrawn fron private study would be amply compensated b] the healthier tone and mental freshness whici could not fail to be derived from contact undei circumstances peculiarly favourable with th( most intelligent and generous portion of th( youth of the country. No one who has hac — 287 — any experience of oral tuition even in its humblest and most uninviting form can have failed to discover the deep meaning of the old adage docendo disces. On these occasions in- finite as may be the advantage derived by the pupil the balance of gain will, we believe, always be found on the side of the instructor. §. 6. Negative and imperfect as is the Admirably system of the German Universities in its mode ,rj,^'ot°ing.°h of dealing with the student, in its method of advance of ,,. ., . . ^ -1 • 1.. /. science. dealing with science it exhibits qualities oi a very different order. The ultimate and essential principle of that organon of scientific research which has been applied by the Germans with such signal success in the region of ontologic and historic knowledge, we will not take upon us to define. The discovery and analysis of such a principle would demand an intellect scarcely less profound and capacious than that of him who possesses it. A brief notice of its more external and striking peculiarities may not however be altogether without interest. §. 7. First and foremost is to be reckoned that eminently philosophical sjfiving after the cause and absolute ground of the individual instance which is so honourably distinctive of the historians and critics of Germany. This — 288 — circumstance has been justly noticed by tl celebrated Hermann, who in contrasting th labours of one of the most eminent and illui trious of English scholars with those of hi own countrymen remarks that while th Englishman is generally contented with poin ing out the fact, the G-erman is never satisfie until he has discovered the reason. In all th most highly trained and thoughtful intellects th presence of an unexplained and isolated phenc menon operates as a stimulus to internal act vity. There is a sense of insufficiency an self contradiction as it were in the existene of a fact not viewed as suggestive of a un: vei'sal truth. §. 8. Closely connected with this powerfi bias, towards the establishment of philosophi ratio we also notice in German scholars a pi culiarly deep sense of the intrinsic dignity c science irrespective of any ulterior advantagf to be derived from its pursuit. AVith thei knowledge is valued, not in proportion as may prove available as the handmaid to mechai ical inventions , or as enabling us to compas other material ends, but as itself constituting i' own exceeding great reward. So reverentii is their worship of science that the honoi — 289 — and majesty of the Idea is recognized in the meanest and most .insignificant of its genuine phaenomena. Every thing which properly and fitly becomes the object of scientific inquiry, how- ever minute and seemingly trivial it may be, is to them invested with a worth and importance identical in kind, though, of course, inferior in degree with that which attaches to objects the most vast and imposing. Its nature and pro- perties are studied with a degree of interest and enthusiasm scarcely inferior to that awa- kened by the loftiest objects of human specu- lation. In no other country, and scarcely at any other period in the history of human cul- ture do we meet with so admirable' a combina- tion of judicious caution with masterly freedom and daring, of laborious and infinitesimal ac- curacy with the highest sweep of imaginative eloquence. The correspondance is still extant in which the great Wilhelm von Humboldt, another Aristotle in the range and luminous sagacity of his scientific insight, keenly discusses with F. A. Wolf the most microscopic details of Homeric criticism*), and exhibits the live- liest and most indefatigable ardour in hunt- *) Gesammelte Werke von W. v. Humboldt. V. 19 — 290 — ing out from the dreary prolixity of schoHastt and lexicographers the evidence for the ac centuation of a word, or the direction in whicl a breathing should be turned. On this subjec Humboldt most justly remarks that in scienc( nothing is insignificant ; and that the small onlj then becomes contemptible when the great ii neglected. §. 9. An immediate result of this earnesi and intense practical worship of knowledge ii to be seen in the organised division and syste matic prosecution of science which forms s( peculiar and striking a feature in the learnec world of Germany. No where are the mani fold advantages of an orderly arrangement o: study so powerfully exemplified. The scholar! of ihsit country secure to themselves and t( the cause to which they devote themselvei with a zeal and enthusiasm so genuine no merely the dexterity afforded by the mechani cal division of labour, but the power and in splration of the soundest and most lofty concep tion of the central Truth carried into eael and all of its departments. This creative blend ing of the universal with the particular, an( silent , it may be, but none the less ever presen carrying up of the individual and special to thdsi — 291 — deeper realities from which it derives life and significance gives to their learned labours a genial comprehensiveness of view founded upon a vigour and accuracy of detail which will render the Germans like the Greeks before them a lasting lesson and pattern to all who have 'eyes to see or heart to understand'. VI. GENERAL ADVANTAGES TO BE ANTICIPATED FEOM A REFORM OF THE UNIVERSITIES. §. 1. There are few signs of the times we Faults o:th live in which augiir' worse for the future his-^,^"f^'^.'''^,°ji^ tory of this country than the proverbial indif- present day. ference with which we are in the habit of con- templating our own manifest inferiority to other countries, and to our own former selves in matters vitally associated with the very worth- iest ends of existence without making an effort to do away with a state of things so discre- 19* — 292 — ditable. This utter dq>L?.oxalia , and deadnessti honourable ambition is deeply connected wit] the ascendancy which the maxims and spiri of trade have attained over the present ge neration of Englishmen. The low opinioi entertained of a purely and solely mercantili community by all the greatest statesmen of anti quity, and the still more sacred authority whic] tells us that 'we can not serve God and Mam mon' is day by day more strongly confirmee in the debasing effects of such a policy upoi one of the most magnanimous and magnificen types of national character which history hai ever exhibited. Properly §. 2. This vulgarmindcd insensibility ti speaking- p^" jjjnrjjgj, ^nd morc lasting considerations thai culiar to one o o portion of the those which relate Jo the lowest individua y. gjjJQyjjjgj^^. g^jj^ advantage points to a temporar relaxing of the nobler springs of action, am an ebb of national spirit, less however as it exist in the masses of the community, whose natur must ever be somewhat animal and thoughl less, than in those higher regions of societ; where leisure and education have been confer red with the evident intent of enabling thei possessors to keep before the nation the in tense reality of interests which would othei — 293 — wise remain mere moonshine to the majority of those of whom it is composed. §.3. Take them for all in all the character of the English at the present day is, we are firmly persuaded, the most estimable and amiable the world has ever seen. The com- mon people are, to say the least, more un- affectedly truthful and righthearted , more easy to deal with, as well as better behav- ed, and of infinitely better capacity, than the same class of any other country in existence. The general type of character met with in every day life is not only preeminently healthy and wholesome, but abounds to no ordinary extent in elements of a peculiarly choice and felicitous description. The delight of all classes of Englishmen in manly sports, the heartiness and relish with which each individual enters into the avocations of life, the perfection of sterling worth, and finish of substantial solidity which characterizes every article of English workmanship are each of them in their way no mean evidences of that freshness of feeling, and genuine enjoyment of activity which lie at the root of every genial and truly poetic tem- perament. Nature certainly has not been nig- gard of her best bounties to the race. Rich - 294 — Yeins run brightly intermingling with a broad and massive substratum of solidly useful vir- tues, It is not till looking beyond generally auspicious circumstances, and the mechanical round of ordinary life we seek for evidence of that higher excellence which is the result of personal conviction, and independent resolution, which cannot be inherited , but must be indivi- dually won that grounds for disappointment and criticism become apparent. The English character in the. phase upon which it seems now to have entered certainly exhibits an ex- traordinary deficiency in all those aims and faculties which constitute mans proper human- ity, and in virtue of which he is something more than merely the most perfectly organised specimen of the genus mammalia. As com- pared with the great nations of the past, and those which stand foremost in the world of the present*) they evince little capacity for se- *) "With all the frivolity and profligacy of the French character it is impossible to be long in that country without detecting in the social atmosphere the distinct presence of something more essentially entitled to re- spect, and more worthy of an European people than ought that comes within the circle in which the domin- ant portion of the English are well content to live, and — 295 — riovis or elevated thought, an irresistible pre- dilection for odd, and at the same time un- move, and have their being. A rare and penetrating intelligence, scieutifio precision and consistency, a magna- nimous ability and vastness of scale in all undertakings of public interest, together with the liveliest suscepti- bility on the point of honour are powerfully determin- ing principles in the present no less than in the past existence of the French nation. No one will long rule in France whose policy does not eminently fultil one or other of these requirements. In England on the other hand , if we except such feelings and faculties as are called into play in 'business', that is to say, in buying, and selling, and bookkeeping, a distorted and trumpery sentimentality is almost the only impulse of general action which is worth speaking of, or which a prudent and practical politician could at all venture to recognise. Even when regarded individually how purely exceptional a case is it when we meet with an Englishman who ex- hibits any thing of that homage for mind so Universal in France or gives trace of the faintest conception of a higher culture than that exemplified in the mannerism and conventionalities of the fashionable class. We are the more unreserved on this subject from the conviction that the faults and deficiencies here alluded to are vitally connected with the abeyance into which university education has practically fallen in England — a result attributable partly to the imperfect nature of the instruction imparted in those institutions which hold academic rank and consequence, and still more to the small portion of the community which partakes of — 296 — speakably humdrum and shallow delusions, an ignoble indifference for reputation, with a cor- responding absence of any desire to excel*). In short the prevailing mode of thinking is to say the least unaspiring and commonminded to excess. The expression of mental physio- nomy, without being coarse or sordid, is es- sentially ordinary and unimpressive. With in- the benefits of such education as even they afford. We do not helieye that Englishmen are naturally at all less open than other nations to generous emotions or enlarged and highminded modes of thought. The very reverse is the fact. The inanity of head and heart so prevalent in the upper classes arises from a want of education thoroughly corresponding with that which is the acknow- ledged cause of the degradation of the lower. Ignorance, and an utter want of that mental culture which leads in the profoundeet sense to the homo sum humani nihil a me alienum puto lie at the root of the narrow minded finality and unmeaning exclusiveness which so strikingly and completely separates the majority of the English from the sympathies of mankind. On the other hand the graver faults of the nation all spring from the ab- sence of any ideal , and the consequent acceptance of a poor, capricious, and external standard in place of those eternal principles of Truth and Duty which it is one of the leading objects of the University to awaken and establish. *) contemptu famae contemnuntur virtutes. Tacitus. Ann. IV. 38. — 297 — finite cleverness and an overflowing measure of honest good feeling, and zealous, though somewhat bustling benevolence, that finer re- verence, and those higher gifts of intellect which lend interest and dignity to character are absent, and uncared for. In few Christian countries is that type of human nature where, in the words of Niebuhr, Nichts bleibt als ein gewinn- und genusssuchendes Thier, und der Geist verschwindet *) , so completely in the ascendant, and those who represent it so little rebuked by the life and conversation of their betters. The miserable littleness of our par- liamentary history in the war just conluded, and the corruption and injustice which seem inveterately rooted in so many of the most important branches of the public service are obvious, though by no means solitary instances, of an incompetency adequately to appreciate high duties, and of the absence of even a re- spectable admixture of the ingredient furnished by that prouder and more powerful form of character, without which good intentions on the part of the community generally will avail *) where man becomes a mere pleasure and profit- seeking animal, and the soul has departed. — 298 — as little in promoting the welfare of the. nation as , divines tell us , they accomplish in securing the salvation of the sinner. ■ho very re- §. 4. There js a notion commonly abroad — iiXricdcht-^°*^°'^^ strikingly illustrative of the inglorious acter of the style of thinking now prevalent in England — peo°pic. *^^^ ^^^^ deficiency in high moral and willing- ness to be inferior in all that constitutes Gods image in man is originally and essen- tially English. Elsewhere, to be sure, the 'his- tory of nations has ever been the judgment of nations'. Every other people which has risen to permanent victory and dominion, whose triumphs have been any thing more than a passing scourge of the sins of their neighbours has achieved a positive claim to authority, or has at all events been conspicuous for qualities which awaken respect and admiration rather than aversion and disgust. With us however it is quite the reverse. We are, and have been from first to last utterly unconscious of, and unconcerned about any thing beyond the ledger and the shop board, possessing no mental accomplishment of a higher order than mere acquisitiveness, or the Thersites like talent for buffoonery and carricature, 'We have all along blundered into greatness,' and there is — 299 — consequently no reason for desiring any change in qualities which have practically worked so well. *) This impression rests upon an entire mis- take in point of fact. The blunders and baseness of the past have contributed marvellously little to the greatness, such as it is, of the present. That in the most glorious ages of English his- tory the character of the actual numerical ma- jority considered simply by itself was every whit as much limited to physical instinct as it now is, and perhaps even more so, is a remark which amounts no more than the truism that in all times, places, and circumstances whatsoever the great outlines of human nature and com- ponents of human society remain substantially the same. Making all due allowances for this sympathetic bond of identity in kind an in- finitely varied state of individual diversities in ascending and descending degrees of excellence, according to the spirit and temper prevalent in the small tonegiving circles of society, is un- *) Compare the following by way of contrast: riji' tijs Tiolscas Svvajiiv ■xa&' rjiis^av iQyo) ■S'ScoftSKous, ■xal i^a- amg yiyvo^svovg ctvT-^g, v.cd, ovav vfiiv fisyaXrj So^ri ilvai sv&vjioviisvovg, on. tolficovtsg , iial yvyvcaaKOvvsg TC SsovTCC, Tial iv roig SQyoig alaxvvofisvoi avSqsg avxa hrrjaavTO. Thuc. II. 43. — 300 — mistakeably evident. The annals of England unfold an endlessly varying series of the rich- est pictures , in which the most vigorous mental initiation is swayed and guided by a profoundly generous humanity, and a peculiarly exquisite beauty of thought and feeling. The age of Elizabeth, which perhaps more than any other gave the impulse that has borne us onward ever since, exhibits a most interesting union of the gravest wisdom with all the grace and charm of poetic inspiration, while the still greater epoch which succeeded abounds in characters who have become the very types and symbols of the cpo^sQov xaXlog of austere decision of will, and masterly ability of intellect. Even in periods less signally renowned, and garded by the rest of mankind with less un- mingled wonder and respect the orators and statesmen who set their stamp on the baser and more sluggish material of the times ex- hibit a character very different from that of the stockjobbing, tradesmanhearted 'Anglo- saxon' of the present generation, who in the midst of unexampled prosperity has so rapidly succeeded in demolishing the great name that they left behind them. Nor was this merely the case with the guiding intellects of the — 301. — nation. The immediate agents in establishing our name and empire, the Nelsons and Olives of our history, have almost invariably exhib- ited in word and deed the most impassioned and imaginative type of practical genius. §. 5. Individuals of the same high mental order, and with aims not less serious and noble continue to exist in England in numbers, or the road downwards would assuredly have been more brief and sudden than it has hitherto proved. *) Their presence however is unknoM'n *) Though the mention of examples may be somewhat superfluous we cannot resist the temptation of confirm- ing the above assertion by reference to what we con- sider as emphatically the gem of the literature of the day. We allude to 'The Saints Tragedy', a work which, after all, no other country but England could have produced. Nothing in any recent literature with which we are acquainted can approach this singularly beautiful poem in that glorified sanctification of human suffering {iid9aQai,s rmv Tia^rnidxcov), and that vivid ear- nestness without which art becomes an effeminate pas- time , and the poet a somewhat more presentable species of fiddler. The appearance from time to time of a book of this description is really needed to prevent one from rushing out into the wildness — ultra Sauromatas — from the miscreant hero worship, peace societies , Uncle Tomfoolery, and other mental epidemies to which the — 302 — and unfelt in the freskening energy and eleva- tion of sentiment which suclr minds are meant to communicate to the ordinary life of the na- tion. The opposite and more ignoble tendencies remain in undisputed mastery of 'the situation/ from the fact that they alone are fully organiz- ed and distinctly represented, while the most precious elements of national felicity and pro- gress lie dispersed and comparatively power- less. Those who impersonate such principles are, with few exceptions, driven into literary cliques when living , and only recognized when dead in order to be pilloried in the paltriest of statues. Moral and §• 6. No moasurcs Can be conceived more ■ public iniiii- -yyjgely calculated to renew that temper of high ence which •' . jr o properly falls rcsolvo which cnablcs a nation to enact his- "versiiy!" ^^^7 ! ^^^ ^^ which England is in an especial manner indebted for its greatness than such a reform of our University system as would enable those institutions signally and thorough- ly to perform the part allotted to them in the workings of the state. The fruits of the Uni- vulgar and weakminded of all countries, and those of our own in particular seem so strangely and inveterately subject. — 303 — versity are to be found not only in a more re- fined humanity, but in a more severely mas- culine type of will and intellect, and the rees- tablishment of our schools of higher learning upon a sound basis of academic study may be regarded as one of the surest means of reviv- ing and keeping alive in the leading classes of the country those absolute principles of- thought and action the consciousness and re- verence for which seems so greatly to have abandoned us. §. 7. The momentous political results which would necessarily be produced by an institution gathering around itself on all more important emergencies the scattered elements of highest intelligence, and lending a collective voice and individuality to the choicest portion of the pro- fessional body are too obvious to require mention in detail. An immediate effect of the more positive and external reality thus given to the learned class would be felt in the fact that the wisdom and education of the country would bring to . bear upon government some- thing of that external pressure which is at present the exclusive prerogative of its fanaticism and cupidity. It is surely not too much to hope — 304 — that the presence in the councils of the nation thus accorded to a section of the community whose distinguishing characteristic is that per- ception of essentials which is the ground and condition of all design would lend guidance and precision to the consideration of a most important class of public measures. Questions, like that of education, are perpetually forcing themselves upon the notice of the country, where a deeper philosophy, and an appreciation of interests stretching too far into the Unseen and eternal ever to be apprehended by Parlia- ment or constituencies is absolutely needed to meet urgent and immediate national require- ments. The rude shocks of experience are causing us to open our eyes to the real value of that unreasoning empiricism which consti- tuted the sole ground of our fancied practical superiority. We are beginning to discover that unless accompanied by a corresponding measure of intellectual insight and forethought any at- tempt at action leans simply to a scuffle in the dark. There is consequently a chance that the influence of such a body as .that above men- tioned would in some degree be permitted to remedy that utter absence of thought and prin- — 305 — ciple whicL. lies at the bottom of so much of the political blundering in England.* §. 8. Most of the later attempts at general legislation which have proceeded from the fami- ly of nations to which we belong seem, when viewed in the light of history, to labour under one serious defect , that viz. of being framed *) "Sir, it is not a pleasant consideration, but nothing in the world can read so awful and instructive a lesson, as the conduct of ministers in this business, upon the mischief of not having large and liberal ideas in the management of great affairs. Never have the servants of the state looked at the whole of your complicated in- terests in one connected view. They have taken things by bits and scraps , some at one time and one pretence, and some at another just as they pressed without any Sort of regard to theii- relations and dependencies. They never had any kind of system right or wrong, but only invented occasionally some miserable tale for the day, in order meanly to sneak out of difficulties into which they had proudly strutted. By such management, by the irresistible operation of feeble councils , so paltry a sum as three pence in the eyes of a financier, so iu- siguificaut an article as tea in the eyes of a philosopher have shaken the pillars of a commercial empire that circled the whole globe." Burke, speech on American taxation. There could scarcely be a more graphic pic- ture than the above of English legislation at the present day on all points save those of commercial policy. 20 — 306 — upon too low an estimate of the ends of po- litical existence. Public questions and interests have long been dealt with in accordance with a view of the state which utterly ignores the truest and most essential objects for which it is instituted. The grandest expression of hu- man existence and action, the support and subject of the loftiest tendencies and most sacred emotions, the personality above self, which is instinctively regarded as the highest object of devotion and duty, and an such anthem as 'God save the Queen' is in practice and principle regarded simply as a joint stock association for the mutual insurance of life and property. It is with reference to these mean and inadequate notions of the social polity, and the errors which naturally spring from so tame and unworthy a conception of the state) that the University, as a convocation and per- manent committee of the clerisy, would prove especially valuable, and do good patriotic service to the nation. Opinions of the kind above al- luded to are in one form or other too congenial and too deeply engrained in the habits of thinking which characterize the industrious and respect-; able, but not high minded class who are now the possessors of power to be ever directly eradicated. — 307 — The only means of securing the due ascendancy in the nation of higher tendencies and interests than those which minds of this order can ever be made to comprehend would be by modify- ing, and to a certain extent counterbalancing the preponderance of the coarser and commercial elements by the concentrated influence of a more intelligent, and more nobly thinking por- tion of the community. It is hardly necessary to mention how utterly improbable it is that in this country such a class would exhibit any of ■ that disorderly and revolutionary spirit by which the academic institutions of the continent have foolishly made shipwreck of great opportunities of public benefit. On taxes and imposts, and all those matters of minor detail which form the topics of ordinary legislation their common and united opinion would rarely, if ever, be expressed. They would naturally ascend into the position of the chorus in the drama confirm- ing the absolute truths imperilled by the pas- sionate vehemence of the personages more pro- minent, an the stage, and thus giving as it were a back ground of eternity to the picture, but seldom actively -interfering in the action of the piece. The analogy of the past history of the University, and the characteristic soberminded- . 20* -^ 308 — ness of educated Englishmen gives every war- ranty that the prevailing tone of their political sentiments would have the strongest bias towards enlightened conservatism, and that the organ- ization of the learned class would have the ef- fect, not only of enriching public life with a new type of corporate existence, but of furnish- ing an additional safeguard of political order. Actual and bona fide democracy has ever from the days of Plato until now been an object of unmingled disgust and contempt to all wise and scholarly natures; 'Ev itdSf] yij to ^il- • xiOtov ivdvriov ttj dfjiioxQatia was the re- mark of one who spoke not without some ex- perience of the subject, and in this country we are tod well, and often made acquainted with its inherent folly aiid blackguardism ever to become enamoured of a scheme of government which so inevitably drags into the kennel that sacred form of common Unity in which the very humblest was meant to recognise an image and a consummation of the dignity and limit- less power of the nature in which he particit pates. §. 9. The vast and manifold ends which the University is destined to serve are not less signally conspicuous in the more general re- — 309 — lations to the state here briefly touched upon than in those directly educational purposes which formed the subject of an earlier portion of this treatise. Schools of this order are meant not only to unfold the highest of human faculties in the individual, but to collect and lead irresistibly upon common objects the most cultivated intelligence of the times. Their office is in every way an eternal one, and in the grossminded utilitarianism of this age and nation, they are called upon to encounter a form of barbarism infinitely more hateful and essentially inimical to all hightoned ex- cellence of mind and character, than the honest , undisguised ruffianism which at a more youthful epoch of their existence they so nobly succeeded in humanising. THE END. B. G. TEUElfEK, PKINTEK , LEIPSIC.' W O E K S PUBLISHED BY WILLIAMS AND NOEGATE. Just PuUUhed, 8«o. cloth, price Ten Shillings, CHEISTIAN OETHODOXT reconciled with the CON- CLUSIONS of MODEEN BIBLICAL LEAEHING; a Theo. logical Essay, witli Critical and Controversial Supplements. By John William Donaldson, D.D., late EeUow of Trinity College, Cam- bridge. " This volume deserves to be read with great attention. The views stated in it are, as to doctrine, those of the Church of England most distinctly Coming as it does from a Cambridge Doctor of Divinity, who stands high among the scholars in the English Church, it will, no doubt, be received with respect, and read with candour and deliberation by those members of the Church who do not think the Pro- testant faith likely to be honoured or assisted by imperfect freedom of inquiry." — Examiner, Eeb. 28. " Dr. Donaldson has, by the publication of this volume, forced into prominence a question of more immediate practical interest than any of the special critical and speculative questions he has hitherto applied his learning and his vigorous intellect to settle."— Spectator, Eeb. 21. Prioe Eighteen Shillings, royal ivo. cloth hoards, BENGELII (Db. Joh. Aib.) GNOMON NOVI TES- TAMENTI in quo ex nativa verboram vi simplicitas, profunditas, concinnitas, salubritas sensuum coelestium indicatur. Edit. III. per filium superstitem E. Bengel quondam cnrata quarto recusa adjuvante J. Steudel. N B. As an inferior reprint of an Early Edition, without the later corrections and additions, has been recently produced on the Continent, purchasers not sending their orders direct should insist that the title bear as publishers, Williams and Nokgate, and D. Nutt, London, and Messrs. Macmillan, Cambridge, who are the only authorized publishers of the New Edition in this country. Price Eight Shillings, Svo. cloth, JASHAE. Pragmenta Archetypa Carminuin Hebraicorum in Masorethico Veteris Testamenti Textn passim tessellata collegit, restituit ordinavit, in unum corpus redegit, Latine exhibuit, commen- tario instruxit Joannes Gtjilelmus Donaldson, S. Theologise Doctor, CoUegii SS. Trinitatis apud Cantabrigienses quondam Socius. 2 Williams and Norffate's Publications. Published at £3. 7s %d, now qffffredfor £2. 2s cash, BOPP'S COMPAEATIVE GEAMMAE of the SAN- SKRIT, ZEND, GREEK, LATIN, LITHUANIAN, GOTHIC, GERMAN, and SLAVONIC LANGUAGES. Translated by Pko- FESSOR Eastwick, and Edited by Propessob H. H. Wilson. 3 vols, royal 8vo. Second Edition, clotli boards. Messrs. Williams and Noegate having purchased the entire stock of this important Work, are induced to offer an opportunity of purchasing it at a moderate price. The published price of the Book is not perma- nently reduced, and an early application is therefore recommended. MAX MUELLER'S SURVEY OF LANGUAGES. Price Five Shillings, 8vo. cloth, THE LANGUAGES OF THE SEAT OP WAE IN THE EAST; with a Survey of the Three Eamilies of Language, Semitic, Aelait, and Tueanian. By Max Mueller, M.A., Ph.D., Professor of European Languages and Literature at the University of Oxford. Second Edition, with an Appendix on the Missionary Alpha- bet, and an Ethnological Map, drawn by A. Petermann. Price Fifteen Shillings, imp. ito. handsomely hound in cloth gilt, SOHNOEE'S BIBLE PICTUEES. SCEIPTUEB HIS- TORY Illustrated in a Series of Sixty Engravings on Wood, from OriginalDesigos by Jtrntrs Schnoee. (WithEnglish Texts.) N.B. A Second Series is now in course of publication, in Part's at 2s each, containing Twelve Plates. A Specimen maybe had gratis on application. Priee Seven Shillings and, Sixpence, 8vo. cloth boards, THE BOOK of JONAH, in Chaldee, Syriae, ^fcliiopic, and Arabic. With Glossaries, by W. Weight. "This volume presents to the student one of the shortest and simplest of the Biblical books in four of the old Oriental versions, accompanied by Glossaries, which give not only the meaning of every word in each of the texts, but also the principal cognate vocables in the other dialects; so that a careful study of the work will enable the reader to arrive at a tolerably accurate comprehension of. some of the principal points of resemblance and difference in the Semitic languages." — Pr^ace. BECKER AST) FRAEDBRSDORFFS GERMAN GRAMMAR. Price Five Shillings, \2mo. cloth boards, AGEAMMAE OP THE GEEMAN LANGUAGE. By Dr. K. F. Bbckbb. Third Edition, carefully revised and adapted to the use of the English Student, by Dr. J. W. Fkaedeks» DOKFF, of the Taylor Institution, Oxford. Williams and Norgate's jPuhlications, 3 "WUNDER'S SOPHOCLES, WITH ENGLISH NOTES. _._TT/-v P'''^"^ One Chtinea, 2 vols. 8vo. cloth boards, O0PH0CLE8. The Greek text, with Annotations, lu- yj troduotion, etc. by Edwakd WnNDEE. A new Edition, with the notes hterally translated into EngUsh, and a collation of Dindokf's text. *** The Plays may be also had separately, price Three SUllinns each, Btitched. APEL'S GERMAN GRAMMAR, NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION. Prwe Six Shillings, l2mo. cloth, A SCHOOL GEAMMAE OP THE GEEMAJST LAN- GUAGE, according to Dr. Becker's Views; with a complete Course of Exercises, by H. Apel, German Master at King Edward's School, Birmingham. Fourth Edition, thoroughly revised, and embody- ing a new method. Price Ten Shillings and Sixpenccfcap. 8vo. cloth, THE FALL OP THE NIBELUNGEES, otherwise the Book of Kriemhild. An English Translation of the Nibelun- GENNOT, or NiBELUNGENiiBD ; with an Introductory Preface, and copious Notes. By William Nanson Lettsom. SCHEERER AND BLANFORD ON THE BLOWPIPE. Price Three Shillings and Sixpence, 12mo. cloth boards, TNTEODTJCTIOK TO THE USE OP THE MOUTH- J_ BLOWPIPE, with a Description of the Blowpipe Characters of the more important Minerals. Translated and compiled from the works of Scheerer, Plattner, and others, by H. F. Blanford. " The various tests, re-agents, &c. are detailed, together with the form and behaviour of the metal before the blowpipe. Not only will this work be of considerable aid to those studying the chemistry of metals, but the miner, by using a few simple tests, wBl be enabled, with a little practice, to determine the metals to be found in the ores which he is working." — Mining Journal, Aug. 9, 1856. A SAUERWEIN'S TITRKISH DICTIONARY. Price Five Shillings, \2mo. cloth, DICTIONAET OP THE ENGLISH AND TUEK- ISH LANGUAGES. By G. Saubrweist. 8vo. about Six Shillings, ASTEIAC GEAMMAE, founded on that of Dr. Hoff- mann. With Additions and Exercises. By B. Harris Cowper. (Zn the press.) 4 Williams and Norgate's Publications. Price Six Shillings, post 8vo. cloth, PATEICK HAMILTON, the first Preacher and, Martyr of the SCOTTISH REFOEMATION, an Historical Biography, colleptedfrom original sources. By the Eer. Petek Lokimek. Priae Eight Shillings, 8vo. cloth boards, WILLIAMS' NEW ZEALAND DICTIONAET AND GEAMMAE. Dictionary of the New Zealand or Maori Lan- guage. Two Parts. With a Grammar and Colloquial Phrases. By the Ven. Dr. W. Williams, Archdeacon of Waiapu. Second Edition. Price Four Shillings, post 8vo. cloth, EXPEEIENCES IN EASTEEN MILITAET HOS- PITALS, with Ohservations on the English, French, and other Medical Departments, the Organization of Military Medical Schools and Hospitals. By Petek PiNcoprs, M.D., late Civil Physician to the Scutari Hospitals. With a Map of the Bosphoms, shewing the sites of the Military Hospitals in 1855. VICAE OP WAKEFIELD— ENGLISH AND GERMAN. Price is 6rf, square 8«o. clotJi boards eastra, GOLDSMITH'S VICAE OE WAKEEIELD, with a close German teanslation on the same page. Illustrated with 50 Woodcuts by L. Eichter. Price Two Shillings and Sixpence, 12mo. cloth, THE FIVE LATTEE BOOKS OE THE PIEST DEC AD of LIVY. Edited by Weissenborn, with English Pre- face and Notes by James Pillans, E.E.S.B., Professor of Humanity in the University of Edinburgh. In the Press {nearly ready), I vol. POLITICAL PEOGEESS not necessarUj Democratic, or Eelative Equality the True Foundation of Civil Liberty, By James Lorimee, Advocate, author of THE TNIVEESITIES OF SCOTLAND, PAST, PEESENT, AND POSSIBLE. With an Appendix of Docu- ments relating to the Higher Instruction. (Second edition, Svo. Price 2* 6d.) WILLIAMS AND NOEGATE, 14, HENEIETXA STREET, COVENT GAKDEN, LONDON; AND 20, SOUTH